୨୧⸝⸝﹕if you call me a fool, then i’ll be a fool.
SUMMARY! you’ve been in love with park wonbin since the day the two of you met and never found the courage to tell him. why is it that you find yourself yearning to confess the moment someone else comes into the picture?
PAIRING! park wonbin x fem!reader
GENRE! college!au, slice of life, fluff, angst (an attempt was made), friends to lovers, IDIOTS to lovers omg WC 8.1k
WARNING! swearing, jealousy, y/n likes wonbin an insane amount girl get up, insecurity, anton instigates like it’s his job and he’s up for a promotion, random female idol is mentioned many times (nothing against her!!), not proofread
NOTE! do u guys know what song the title is from lol.. LOL also i had another wonbin fic i wanted to post and deleted it bc it sucked so actually im posting this one as a coping mechanism
you don’t realize the way you’re staring at the back of wonbin’s head until a voice snaps you out of your trance. “do you know what you want?” shotaro asks you, waving a hand in front of your face.
currently, the two of you, along with wonbin, seunghan, and anton, are standing in line at a beverage kiosk. the latter, having already received his drink, stands to your right while shotaro stands to your left. seunghan recites his order to the employee while wonbin stands idly behind him.
“don’t even bother asking,” anton chortles, lips still wrapped around his straw. “she’s probably gonna have wonbin order for her, like always.” you lightly slap him in the arm after the words leave his mouth, eyes darting to the aforementioned boy standing merely 2 inches in front of you, hoping he hadn’t heard anton’s teasing.
“i didn’t even say anything wrong! he orders for you all the time!” the boy whines, jokingly rubbing his arm where you had hit him.
shotaro lets out a curt laugh at the interaction, knowing that anton’s words held truth to them, whether you liked to admit it or not. “it’s because she’s shy. right, y/n?” he turns to you, attempting to diffuse your embarrassment. one look at the smile on his face and anyone would be able to tell that his words were complete bullshit. the two of you knew that the real reason you liked having wonbin order for you was because you liked him.
however, for your own sake, you sigh and choose to agree with shotaro’s statement, only offering a small nod. “whatever,” anton mutters under his breath, walking over to seunghan who has his own beverage in hand.
now that you, shotaro and wonbin were the only people in line, shotaro grabs your sleeve and gently pulls you backwards, putting more distance between the two of you and the boy who was now placing his order. before shotaro says anything, you know what the topic of conversation is going to be.
“do you ever plan on telling him?” is all he inquires, his voice lowering to a whisper. you avoid his piercing gaze, instead turning to look at anton and seunghan, laughing in between sips of their respective drinks. anton is already nearly finished with his, you note.
when you’re done observing them, you shift your attention to wonbin, who has his arms crossed as he points at one of the cup sizes the kiosk has on display, indicating that it’s the one he wants.
you’re unable to see his face but you’re able to picture it better than anything. the way his lip quirks upwards in an attempt to be polite to the employee. the furrow of his brow as he asks a question.
shotaro sighs at your silence and finds it astonishing how you’re able to ogle wonbin without even looking at his face. that very sigh brings you back into reality, finally meeting the gaze of the boy currently interrogating you.
“he… doesn’t think of me that way,” you slowly tell him, as if the words would physically pain you if you uttered them too quickly. shotaro lets out a noise you can only assume was meant to be a scoff, but being passive aggressive simply doesn’t run in his blood.
“are you kiddi-“ shotaro is interrupted by wonbin holding a drink in front of your face, thus putting a barrier between the two of you. “here, y/n,” the long haired boy hums, not moving from his spot until you take the beverage filled plastic cup. if you didn’t have park wonbin tunnel vision, as shotaro likes to call it, you’d see the way anton is shaking his head and letting out a short laugh in disbelief upon witnessing the interaction. “called it,” he tells seunghan, who only blinks in confusion.
“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, but i remembered that time we went to that other drink place and you said you really liked the strawberry one, so i got you that,” wonbin explains, holding his own straw up to his mouth. he says it nonchalantly, as if you could either finish the drink in about 5 seconds before proclaiming how much you enjoyed it, or you could throw it to the ground and curse at him for assuming the flavor you wanted, and he wouldn’t flinch either way.
“um— yes— yeah, i..” you stutter, and shotaro swears it takes everything in him not to slap his own forehead at your sudden jumpiness. “i like it, thank you. you didn’t have to, wonbin,” you exhale, holding your drink with both hands.
“yeah, well, force of habit, you know?” the boy laughs. “since i’m always ordering for you anyway.” his words cause you to tense and you can just picture anton’s shit-eating grin after he heard what wonbin said. “right, yeah,” you nod, wanting the conversation to be over with. the 5 of you continue walking throughout the mall, seunghan complaining about what a ridiculous amount of time you had all just spent at that beverage kiosk.
“force of habit is crazy,” anton decides to tease you again, earning another slap on the arm. “stop hitting me!”
besides ordering drinks for you when you hadn’t requested for him to do so, anton has noticed that wonbin also tends to subconsciously let you get away with… a lot.
he doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he rolls his eyes when he walks into the living room and sees none other than you and wonbin, the latter seated on the carpeted floor while you’re situated on the couch behind him, playing with his hair.
“i shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters, barely audible. he’s unsure if he wanted you and wonbin to hear him, but your head snaps in his direction nonetheless. “hey, anton,” you greet him despite knowing that he’d have a lot to say about your current position. he nods his head in acknowledgement before pursing his lips. you brace yourself for whatever comment he’ll inevitably make next, morphing your lips into a straight line.
“you know,” anton starts, and you’re already holding back the urge to groan. “wonbin never lets any of us touch his hair like that.”
“right, because you guys are always so eager to play with my hair, huh?” wonbin quips sarcastically. anton shrugs, although wonbin isn’t looking at him. “so you’re saying if we wanted to, we could?” anton questions, moving across the living room to grab his phone charger, finally remembering why he had walked into the room in the first place.
“nah,” wonbin replies, “not sure why you’d want to, anyway.”
“i don’t see you questioning why y/n wants to do it,” anton insists, already making his way out of the room, pausing momentarily to hear wonbin’s response.
“she doesn’t need a reason,” his older friend says, “she’s y/n.” anton shakes his head and continues on his way. you resume treading your hand through wonbin’s hair as if nothing had happened, but unbeknownst to the boy sitting in front of you, your heart rate had increased at his words.
“he’s just jealous,” wonbin jokes. you only let out a short laugh in response. you wonder how he would react if you informed him that anton had actually sprung up that conversation because he knows about your tremendous crush on the raven haired boy.
“do you think you’d ever go blonde?” you inquire, changing the subject. he lets out a snort and tilts his head to look back at you. you’re grinning, trying to ignore the way your heart does somersaults in your chest.
“i don’t think the world is ready for that,” he laughs.
“what are we laughing about in here?” a voice sings from the door way, ripping your attention away from wonbin. you turn to the perpetrator and lock eyes with sungchan, who sends you a smile. you wave at him and he takes it as an invitation to sit himself down on the couch beside you.
“nothing much,” wonbin answers. your hands finally retreat from his hair and you miss the way his shoulders slump in response.
“right,” sungchan nods, turning his attention to whatever you and wonbin are watching on tv. in actuality, neither you nor him have been paying the television any mind for at least an hour, and only now do you realize that some sort of ocean documentary has been playing this whole time.
a few minutes of silence proceed before sungchan clasps his hands together and stands up from the couch abruptly, startling you.
“man, this has been boring,” he announces, eyes darting between the two of you, seated in the same positions as when he first entered the room. “do you guys even talk?”
“we were, actually, before you walked in,” wonbin mutters, not meaning for his words to come out as sourly as they do. sungchan raises his hands in the air in defense. “hey, my bad. i didn’t realize the two of you were having an ocean documentary date,” he retorts.
“we’re not having-“ you’re about to correct him, only for him to cut you off.
“but, you know, bin,” he says, “i’m not sure how sangah would feel about you having a movie date with another girl.”
you feel like your entire world freezes over the moment you hear those words leave sungchan’s mouth. you quickly rid your face of your crestfallen expression, not wanting to give yourself away.
“who?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, and sungchan just stares at you. wonbin waves his hand dismissively, shaking his head in annoyance. “shut up, dude.”
“wait, y/n doesn’t know about sangah?” sungchan asks, a genuinely confused look crossing over his features. “i thought you guys told each other everything.”
wonbin groans in irritation. “i haven’t told anyone, actually, because it doesn’t matter. you only know because you’re nosy as fuck.”
sungchan chuckles, and you would attempt to let out a halfhearted laugh if you didn’t feel like your chest was aching. you lick your lips and stare questioningly at the side of wonbin’s head.
“look, bro,” sungchan gestures towards you, causing wonbin to turn around and meet your disheartened eyes. his face drops slightly, and you’re not in the correct headspace to try and pinpoint why. “she’s upset because you didn’t tell her!” his friend chimes.
wonbin shakes his head, still looking at you. “she’s just some girl,” he huffs. “i don’t even know her that well.”
you scoff before plastering a wobbly smile onto your face. “i’m not upset,” your voice quivers and you hope that wonbin doesn’t notice it. you’re not sure why he decides to reassure you about sangah— whoever that is— but you pray that it’s not because he’s known about your pathetic crush on him all this time and is now feeling bad for you because he’s currently seeing someone.
of course, only your cruel mind could formulate such a sickening thought.
“i’m just.. surprised,” you conclude with an unconvincing nod. wonbin closes his eyes in annoyance, and you know it’s because of his intrusive friend standing in the doorway. “sungchan, just stop spreading shit around, alright?” he gives him a tired look, finally getting up from the floor. as wonbin makes his way past sungchan in the doorway, the taller boy gives him a playful slap on the shoulder. with wonbin having left the room, you find yourself looking to sungchan with urgency.
“who is sangah?” you plead, trying to keep your emotions at bay. the boy furrows his eyebrows, confusion settling into his features once more. “why do you care, y/n?” he asks. you know that his question doesn’t come from a place of mockery, but rather genuine interest. it hits you in that moment that sungchan, as smart as he is, happens to be absolutely terrible at taking a hint.
somehow, when it came to the long lasting feelings you harbored for one of his closest friends, sungchan was none the wiser. you surmise that he wouldn’t have teased wonbin so openly about another girl had he known about your feelings for the long haired boy.
that, you suppose, you can’t really blame him for.
“um,” you start, “he’s one of my closest friends.” your words are spoken through gritted teeth and clenched fists. “i’m just curious, you know?” the lie comes out easier than you think it should’ve.
sungchan hums, crossing his arms and giving you a curt nod. “just some girl,” sungchan tells you, repeating wonbin’s words from a few minutes ago. “yoon sangah. she’s in our music fundamentals class. like, 2 days ago, i think, she wrote her instagram handle on a slip of paper and gave it to wonbin right in front of me.” your face falls for what seems like the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. you can only offer the tall boy a nearly inaudible hum in response.
“do you think it’ll lead to anything? you know, between her and wonbin?” again, you can’t stop yourself from asking. you feel sick at the thought of playing into the role of ‘jealous, overthinking girlfriend’, and even sicker at the fact that you and wonbin aren’t even dating. what right do you have to be inquisitive about his love life?
still, you can’t help it. when sungchan takes a bit longer to respond to your question you fear you’re treading on dangerous territory, afraid that even the dense boy you’re conversing with may have cracked the code. the grin that he aims at you a few seconds later serves as reassurance that, no, he still doesn’t know anything.
“that’s a good question, y/n dearest,” he pats your shoulder lightly. “i guess only time will tell.”
you hate yourself for what you’re doing right now.
looking back on the conversation you had with sungchan hours prior to this moment, you recalled him mentioning that sangah had given wonbin her instagram. thus, like any normal person would do in your situation, you took it upon yourself to go through wonbin’s following list in an attempt to find her.
you scroll past your own account, past the accounts of your mutual friends, and a few people who you presume are some of wonbin’s classmates.
when you finally stumble across sangah’s account, your body fills with dread before you even see a proper photo of her.
judging by her profile picture alone, you can tell that she’s pretty. you’re fully looking at her profile now, and your frown only deepens. she’s beautiful.
you shake your head as if it would help ease your racing mind. she’s beautiful, yes, you think, but looks aren’t everything. you find yourself childishly crossing your fingers that sangah had the personality of an evil witch, so that even if wonbin fell victim to her physical charm, he’d be pushed away by her true nature.
you let out a quiet scoff. you can’t believe you’re sitting here thinking badly about another girl just because she might have a crush on the same man you’ve been in love with since the day you met him. in the same sense, you can’t believe that when you say that sentence out loud, it actually sounds a bit reasonable. you blame sungchan, for a moment, drawing the inference that you wouldn’t feel so insecure right now if it hadn’t been for his previous teasing.
you can’t stop yourself when you click on one of sangah’s posts. she doesn’t have many, but the few that she has have seemed to gather thousands of likes. despite this, you take note of the fact that wonbin doesn’t have any of them liked— thank god, you think to yourself. you start to analyze her photos, the faces she makes at the camera, the outfits she wears, the way her hair is styled. when studying her facial expressions, you wonder if she’s made those same faces while looking at wonbin. when taking her outfits into consideration, you wonder if wonbin has seen her wearing any of them and thought she looked particularly nice. whilst examining her hair, you resist the urge to rip out your own. it’s perfect. she’s perfect.
she’s perfect, and from what you can tell, you aren’t anything like her. so what does that make you?
you move to close the app, feeling filled to the brim with self doubt when you suddenly freeze as your phone vibrates. you hesitantly open your dms and your eyes widen as they fall upon the newest message.
[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: why are u awake
your heart races and you momentarily contemplate if wonbin had somehow set up a security camera in your bedroom without your knowledge because how on earth did he know?
you don’t ponder on the matter for long, the aforementioned boy sending another message merely a few seconds later.
[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: u have ur activity status turned on btw
exhaling a breath of relief, you type a response to him.
[3:03 AM] you: why are U awake park wonbin
[3:03 AM] 1bin_02: i just woke up like 5 minutes ago. my y/n senses were tingling and my unconscious body felt a disturbance
[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: kiddinggg
[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: but fr why are u awake
you hold your breath as you type out your next response, choosing to be daring. you decide that, even if it’s only for a few seconds, you’re no longer going to be a coward.
[3:06 AM] you: i was thinking about u
[3:06 AM] 1bin_02: ditto
[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: i know im amazing and everything but don’t let me stop u from getting ur beauty rest 🙄 jk
[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: gn dummy
you decide against saying anything else, shutting off your phone with a sigh. you are a dummy, you think, and the boy who had just given you that title has no idea that it’s all because of him.
you’re exhausted the next day, concluding that being awake at 3 in the morning despite knowing that you had a class at 8AM was not the best idea.
wonbin is quick to take note of this, poking you on your side as the two of you follow your usual route to your next lecture of the day. “i bet someone regrets staying up until 3AM, hm?” he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as you swat his hand away. “like you weren’t up at 3AM, too,” you mutter. he clicks his tongue in response. “that was only for a few minutes,” he says, “who knows how long you were awake for, though.”
before you’re forced to dignify wonbin with a response, anton and seunghan walk up to the two of you, the latter offering a wave while the former only smiles.
“where are we headed, guys?” seunghan asks, throwing an arm around wonbin. the boy attempts to shrug him off to no avail. “anton and i wanted to go get drinks and we were wondering if you guys wanted to come with,” he grins before quietly adding, “and maybe also pay for them.”
you laugh and wonbin turns to you upon hearing it, letting out a playful scoff of his own. “can’t, y/n has class in 10 minutes or so,” he turns to the two boys who now have their eyebrows raised in apprehension. “that’s where we were headed,” he finishes.
“and you’re walking her there,” anton nods, his words posing as more of a statement than a question. you can only dramatically roll your eyes. wonbin doesn’t seem to pick up any undertones, only nodding in response. “i might be able to tag along afterwards, though. no promises.”
“well, anton,” seunghan sighs, turning to his friend, “we’ll just have to take shotaro inste-“
the boy is cut off by the sound of a girlish voice calling out wonbin’s name. all 4 of you turn around in unison, and you feel like your heart has physically sunken into the floor. sangah.
wonbin’s at a loss for words for a moment and you want to run away more than anything. you’re not prepared to see the two of them interact, especially after looking at her instagram page last night. “hey, sangah,” is all he says, a smile plastered on his face that pains you to look at.
the girl is practically beaming. “what are you up to?” she grins, her eyes not daring to look anywhere but him. his eyes flicker to you momentarily, who is struggling to breathe.
“i’m walking her—” he gestures to you and sangah finally looks away from him, eyes now trained on yours, “to class. well, i was, before these two showed up.” wonbin waves a hand in anton and seunghan’s direction, the two boys adorning matching confused expressions on their faces. nobody moves a muscle for a few seconds and you’re afraid that your rapid heartbeat can be heard atop of the pin-drop silence.
“oh! my bad,” wonbin clears his throat, “guys, this is sangah,” he gestures towards the girl, “sangah, this is… guys.” he gestures towards his friends. “and y/n,” he gestures towards you for the second time, giving you a tap on the shoulder for good measure. sangah’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and she reaches out to shake your hand. you’re positive that if it weren’t for the freezing hallways of your university, your hands would be sweating, so you silently thank whoever’s in charge of the ac for seemingly always having it cranked up to the max. you and the girl shake hands, her smile noticably brighter than yours.
“nice to meet you, y/n,” she says. “you, too,” is all you’re able to respond with, smile tight.
“nice to meet you guys, too,” she waves at anton and seunghan with both hands and they wave back, offering their own respective greetings in return. awkward.
you cough, attempting to break the silence. “this has been fun,” you press your lips together for a second, “but i’ve gotta get to class. hope you guys have fun at that drink place later, or whatever,” you trail off, the last part of your sentence aimed towards anton and seunghan. “and it was nice meeting you, again,” you add, making eye contact with sangah. she smiles. you don’t say anything to wonbin as you attempt to squeeze past him, but he grabs your arm. “i’m walking with you, remember?” he says. you resist the urge to look at sangah or anyone else in your vicinity for that matter, surprised at his words. this random girl who’s obviously into him is standing only a few inches away and wonbin still insists on walking you to class.
“it’s okay,” you shake your head, unsure. wonbin can tell that you’re beginning to feel upset and he desperately wishes that sangah and even seunghan and anton were anywhere but here. “y/n-“ he starts, you cut him off. “it’s fine, wonbin,” you reaffirm. it isn’t, though.
you begin to walk in the direction of your class and release a breath that you hadn’t known you were holding. deep down, you wanted wonbin to disregard your words and resume walking with you, leaving sangah and his friends standing in the hallway. but wonbin was too polite for that, and you couldn’t even turn around to see if he had continued to engage in conversation with the 3 of them because you felt tears forming in your eyes. stupid, stupid, stupid, you think to yourself.
unbeknownst to you, sangah was able to sense the tension in the atmosphere before anyone had even said anything to her. she kisses her teeth, scratching the side of her head. “i should probably go, too,” she tells wonbin. the boy can tell that she would’ve liked to talk more, but he wasn’t looking to become friends or even acquaintances with her. doing that would only give her the wrong idea, and he didn’t want to have any bad blood with someone he’d be forced to see nearly everyday in class. the boy nods in understanding, giving her a wave. “nice.. talking to you,” he bids her farewell, unsure of what to say, because whatever had just transpired definitely did not qualify as a conversation. the girl waves back with an unwavering smile, walking in the opposite direction you had gone.
“oh, man,” seunghan lets out a laugh he had been holding in, “that was the worst. please don’t ever put me through anything like that again.” anton silently agrees, cringing.
“is it just me,” wonbin starts, ignoring his friend’s remark, “or did y/n seem kind of upset before she left?”
anton stretches his arms slightly, eyes looking anywhere but at his dark haired friend. “wonder why that might be,” he muses under his breath, but wonbin catches it. “what do you mean?” he pushes, looking his younger friend in the eye. anton puts his hands in the air in mock surrender.
“anton, what the hell do you mean?” wonbin asks again, voice tinged with annoyance. anton shakes his head, “figure it out.”
seunghan watches his friends go back and forth, a bit confused himself. much like sungchan, he seems to be completely oblivious when it comes to the way you feel about wonbin.
you’re currently sitting in class wondering why you even bothered to show up.
you knew before you even sat down that you wouldn’t be able to process a single word of the lecture, your mind thinking over your first official encounter with sangah.
ever since last night, you’ve started to dread moments like these— none of your friends being around to distract you, leaving you alone with your own miserable thoughts. it feels as though each minuscule moment of silence is filled with your insecurities being pushed to the forefront of your mind.
what did they talk about after you had left? did seunghan and anton decide to leave shortly after, leaving wonbin and sangah alone? did they grow closer in the small amount of time they were left together? even worse, what if the amount of time they spent together wasn’t small at all? oh god, what if they’re still together right now?
had anton, seunghan or, worst of all, wonbin decided to invite sangah to their aforementioned drink hangout? your mind drifts to the image of wonbin ordering a drink for sangah, the same way he always does for you, and you feel like bursting into tears similarly to the way you had almost done so on your way to class.
and sangah— god, you wanted to hate her so bad. your prayers that she had the personality of a wicked witch were thrown out the window the second she opened her mouth. she was so nice to you. the guy that she likes had openly expressed that he wanted to walk you to class and she still smiled at you. she’s got the most perfect appearance and most perfect attitude and you feel like you can’t compete with any of it.
you check your phone for the first time in approximately 30 minutes, eager for a distraction. you’re dismayed to see only 3 notifications, one from the boy who seems the root of every current problem in your life, and two from sungchan.
[10:04 AM] bin 🫶: everything ok??
[10:16 AM] sungchani: hey
[10:16 AM] sungchani: we’re all gonna hang out on friday night (as decided by me just now) and u will be coming! (also decided by me just now)
you open your phone, typing a quick response to wonbin about how everything is fine (lie) and sending another short message in hopes of steering the conversation in a different direction. you open the two messages from sungchan, shaking your head as if he’d be able to sense your attitude through the screen.
[10:48 AM] you: who’s “we” exactly…. and what will “we” be doing
[10:50 AM] sungchani: don’t act dumb girl… me, you, taro, seunghan, anton and wonbin obviously. was gonna see if eunseok and sohee could make it but i doubt eunseok would wanna and i think sohee’s doing some group assignment lolol
[10:51 AM] sungchani: as for your other question i was thinking about going to the movies yay or nay? (say yay)
[10:51 AM] you: pass
[10:52 AM] sungchani: perfect see u there!
you don’t bother responding to sungchan’s final message, knowing that no amount of opposition from you would deter him. he’d probably drag you all the way to the theater himself if he had to. but you really don’t want to go, feeling drained from the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind ever since sungchan mentioned sangah for the first time. you’d much rather spent your friday night in bed, trying to give your brain a much needed break. maybe if you really felt like torturing yourself, you’d pull up sangah’s instagram once more.
when class ends, you’re shocked to find anton waiting for you outside of the lecture hall. he’s holding a plastic cup filled with chai tea, leaning against the wall leisurely as he sips through an orange straw. he doesn’t look in your direction, which confuses you, because you’re undoubtedly the reason he’s currently standing outside of your classroom.
“lee anto-“ the boy in question cuts you off by lifting his index finger in front of your face, still not looking at you. you scoff in irritation, not wanting to deal with his antics in your current state.
“you’re coming on friday, yes?” he questions, his voice slightly above a whisper. “not if i don’t have to,” you say, your voice at a normal volume. anton, finally looking you in the eyes, presses his index finger to his lips as if to indicate that you need to be quieter. “you do have to,” he nods.
you pinch the bridge of your nose. “why the hell are you whispering?” you scowl, and he keeps his index finger on his lips. you groan before reluctantly lowering your voice to match his, despite the fact that you still don’t know why he wants you to do so. “what’s going on?” you inquire.
“you have to come on friday,” he repeats quietly, “and you’re gonna tell dark star that you’re in love with him.”
you blink. “who?” anton leans his head back in annoyance before mouthing, “PARK WONBIN.” you recoil for a myriad of reasons. “first of all, i’m not coming on friday,” your voice slightly increases in volume, “and even if i was, i most definitely would not use it as an opportunity to confess to wonbin. and why in the world did you just call him that?” you finish, exasperated.
anton only sips his drink, his aura calm and collected. “you’re going,” he answers pointedly, “because if you don’t, dark star is gonna find out either way.”
your eyes widen and you feel like all of the air has left your lungs. “what do you mean by that? you wouldn’t actually-“
“i would, though. if telling dark star about your crush on him would get you to stop pining after him like a fool, why wouldn’t i? and, in addition,” anton fully turns to you, his voice raising to a light mumble, “i saw the way you reacted when sarah started talking to him earlier.”
“it’s sangah,” you deadpan. anton waves his hand dismissively. “not the point. with the way you acted earlier, you would’ve thought they were getting married right in the middle of that hallway,” he sounds concerned as he speaks the words, not looking anywhere but at you.
“i’m not saying that wonbin— dark star, i mean, has a thing for sandra right now. frankly, i don’t think he cares about her at all,” anton continues, “but if you’re that worried about some random girl taking him away from you when they’ve known each other for like, a week, i think that’s a sign that it might be a good idea to tell him how you’re feeling.”
you look down, letting his words settle into your mind. “i’ll come on friday,” you nod, and the boy in front of you smiles at your words, “but i have to give the whole confessing to wonbin thing a bit more thought. i mean, it’s kind of sudden.” anton’s advice actually made sense, you think, but you’re not sure if you’re ready to tell the boy you’ve been harboring feelings for all this time that you’re in love with him on a random friday night.
“sudden?” anton asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “i think it’s long overdue. fire tornado hector thinks so, too,” he tells you.
you turn to him, dumbfounded. “where the hell are you getting these names from?!”
friday night comes in the blink of an eye and you’re standing in the lobby of the theater with shotaro, anton, seunghan, and sungchan. wonbin is nowhere to be seen.
“i told him 7PM sharp,” sungchan murmurs impatiently, checking his watch. shotaro turns to anton, jokingly hitting the younger boy on the arm with a laugh. “imagine he just decided to stay home,” he chuckles, “i bet y/n would be relieved.”
“why would she be relieved?” seunghan intrudes curiously. anton shrugs. “i told her she had to confess to wonbin tonight,” he says casually, as if he hadn’t just revealed your not-so-secret secret to an unsuspecting seunghan. the older boy’s eyebrows raise at anton’s words, his lips parting.
“you like wonbin?” he questions you eagerly. “dude, i can’t believe you didn’t know by now,” anton answers in your place as you press your lips together. “and we won’t be using the name wonbin when he arrives. he’s dark star. the codename helps when you’re trying to be discreet,” he finishes.
“yeah, because you know all about being discreet, right?” you reply, voice laced with sarcasm. anton knows that you’re referring to the way he had exposed your feelings for wonbin merely 30 seconds ago, avoiding your gaze as he whistles idly.
“sorry i’m late, guys,” the man of the hour exhales as he walks up to the 5 of you. sungchan studies wonbin, unimpressed. the latter can sense his older friend’s agitation, clicking his tongue. “you’ll forgive me once you find out why i’m late,” he assures, “look who i brought with me.”
you can’t prevent the way your heartbeat escalates, both at the mere presence of wonbin and the words that have just left his mouth. you’re unsure if you even want to find out who he’s brought with him, fearing the worst.
“sohee! eunseok!” you hear sungchan exclaim, excitedly making his way over to the two figures that have just entered the theater. he wraps his lengthy arms around both of them simultaneously.
“guess our invitations got lost in the mail, huh?” eunseok muses, returning his friend’s embrace. the three of them return to where you and the others are standing and sungchan scratches the back of his neck. “my bad, man,” he utters bashfully, “the movie we’re watching is pretty lame. didn’t think you’d be into it.”
“still, it’s an excuse to see you guys,” eunseok shrugs, turning to greet everyone else. sohee does the same, wrapping his arms around you before anyone else.
“y/n! it’s been forever,” he grins, you return it. “it’s been… 2 weeks,” you tell him, hugging him back nonetheless. “i still missed you, though,” you hum. “stop hogging him, y/n!” seunghan teases, “we haven’t seen him in weeks either!”
the two of you release each other, and when you turn, wonbin is at your side. he taps your arm. “why don’t you greet me like that?” he feigns jealousy, pursing his lips. you smile at him, hoping to mask your nervousness, “i see you everyday.”
he rolls his eyes. “that doesn’t mean you can’t miss me.”
“i always do,” you say absentmindedly. by the time your words register, wonbin is already grinning. “ditto,” he mutters, his words meant for only you to hear.
he turns away before you can comment, and eunseok takes his place beside you. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, greeting you. you think nothing of his actions before he leans down, angling his head so that it’s directly next to your ear. “i heard about healing michael’s plan,” he whispers, “the one about getting you to confess to dark star.”
“please don’t start this,” you plead, “i cannot deal with these nicknames right now. and how do you know about that?”
“um,” he starts, moving his head away from yours, “obviously healing michael filled me in on everything. just because we don’t physically see each other everyday doesn’t mean we don’t have a group chat.” he moves back to the previous topic, “he threatened to tell dark star about how you’re madly in love with him, right? he’s bluffing,” eunseok explains, “if you confess to dark star tonight, it should be because you really love him. not because anton frightened you into doing it.”
you nod at eunseok’s words, unsure. “and,” he continues, “it shouldn’t be about some other girl that might like him, either.” he takes note of the way your eyes widen a fraction. “yeah, anton told me about that, too,” he nods as you make a mental reminder to yell at anton later for airing out your business.
“what i’m saying, y/n, is make sure that you’re telling him how you feel, not for anyone else, but for you. well, and for him. and for you and him, together,” eunseok concludes, “don’t let healing michael or sandy get in the way of it.”
“it’s sangah,” you sigh, in awe of the fact that you’ve had to correct both him and anton. sungchan appears to have heard your final words, perking up at the mention of wonbin’s classmate.
“sangah? we’re talking about sangah?” he blurts out, turning to wonbin with a smile. “bro, we totally should’ve invited her,” he jokes, slapping his friend on the arm, “seeing her and wonbin interact in the theater would’ve been hilarious.” everyone grows tense at sungchan’s teasing— he was somehow still the only one unaware of your feelings for wonbin.
wonbin only shakes his head in response, his first instinct being to look over at you. you’re wearing that same disheartened look on your face as the first time you found out about sangah, and he can hardly breathe. his eyes narrow at the sight of eunseok’s arm still hanging off your shoulders.
“sungchan, when does the movie start? we’ve been standing here for a while,” shotaro states, attempting to alleviate the situation. “oh, we still have about,” sungchan checks the time on his watch, “ten minutes before the trailers even start playing,” he responds.
shotaro ushers the group over to the concession counter, quickly making some excuse about everyone needing to choose their snacks for the movie. “amateurs,” sungchan mutters, “who doesn’t bring their own snacks to the movies?”
wonbin finds his place beside you again, briefly studying your features. he notices the way you stand stiffly in your spot and the slight wrinkle between your brows. “hey,” he tries to get your attention. your eyes soften as they meet his that are flooded with worry. “i’m sorry,” he frowns, “about what happened back there. i don’t know why he keeps mentioning her.”
you’re puzzled and, yet again, asking yourself if he’s apologizing because he knows that you have feelings for him or if it’s because he still thinks you’re upset that he didn’t tell you about sangah sooner.
you prayed that he wasn’t apologizing due to the former, but why would he even need to apologize if it was the latter? if nothing was going on between wonbin and sangah, he had no reason to tell you about her. you press your lips into a tight line. maybe that was it— something was going on between them. that’s why he’s saying sorry to you right now, because he regrets not telling you before when you’re supposed to be one of his closest friends.
and that’s all you’ll ever be to him, because you were too much of a coward to confess to him when you had the chance. you think about how disappointed your friends are going to be once you break the news to them that you wouldn’t be confessing to wonbin tonight, or ever.
“don’t apologize, wonbin,” you quietly tell him, and he wonders why it seems as though you’re about to cry. he shakes his head, getting the sense that you misunderstood his words. he looks back at your mutual friend group, seeing that they’re all preoccupied. wonbin seizes the opportunity, grabbing your hand and taking you to a secluded area of the theater.
“please don’t tell me not to apologize,” he breathes, “because i have so much to apologize to you for.”
you’re confused and concerned, your lips parting slightly. you don’t have the chance to savor the feeling of wonbin’s hand still holding yours because you’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever words he’s about to say. this is it, you tell yourself. you stare at the ground, anticipating the feeling of disappointment and rejection.
“i like you so much.”
you stop breathing as the words leave wonbin’s mouth. you’re terrified to look up, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly. he responds to your unvoiced worries by repeating the statement.
“i like you so much, and i’m sorry for holding it in this long,” he says breathlessly, “i’m sorry for letting sungchan talk about sangah all the time, because i didn’t want you to think that i could ever like anyone else.”
he continues despite your silence. “and i’m sorry for telling you all of this in a movie theater, of all places. i’ve been psyching myself up for weeks, but i couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing any longer. i’m tired of misunderstandings.”
he finally takes a deep breath, and you look up at him for the first time. “are you serious?” is all you’re able to say. you want to be 100% sure that your mind isn’t being as cruel as it normally is when it comes to park wonbin.
he nods, appearing to be just as nervous as you are, and you think that’s good enough of an indicator that he’s not joking.
“you fool,” you breath out in utter disbelief, not knowing if your words are directed at wonbin or yourself. the boy looks troubled for a moment before he hears a noise similar to a sob leave your mouth.
you hide your face with your hands. “i was supposed to be the one to confess to you.”
it’s wonbin’s turn to be silent now, listening to you rant. “it was this whole thing— healing michael, dark star.. eunseok knew about it, and shotaro..” you trail off. your words don’t even make sense to yourself, and you doubt they make any sense to the boy in front of you. “my god, wonbin— i’ve liked you since the day i met you!” you cry, hands still obstructing your vision.
wonbin hesitantly takes it upon himself to grab your wrists, removing your hands from your face. “do you mean that?” he asks, trying to meet your gaze.
you don’t look him in the eye as you continue rambling. “i was so scared,” you tell him, “sungchan mentioned her out of nowhere that day and i was so scared. i thought she was your secret girlfriend, or something.” you feel stupid for telling him all of this, finally admitting to your jealousy.
“when i saw her for the first time, i thought it was over,” you shake your head, “someone so pretty having a crush on you? i felt like nothing next to her. sungchan even told me that she wrote down her instagram and casually handed it to you— i’d kill to be that confident in myself,” you’re not even paying attention to the words leaving your mouth anymore, wanting to get everything you’ve been holding in out of your system.
when you finally look at wonbin’s face, he looks sad, which startles you. you’re afraid that you’ve just killed his mood with your venting. “i’m sorry— i didn’t me-“ you’re interrupted by wonbin pulling you to his chest, shaking his head at your words. “you fool,” he repeats your words from minutes ago. “i can’t believe you’ve been feeling that way about yourself.”
he keeps you in his embrace as if you’d run away if he were to let go. “i can’t think of anyone prettier than you,” he mutters, “or nicer, or funnier. or anything, really, because i think of you more than anyone else. i guess it’s my fault, kind of. i could’ve expressed it in ways other than walking you to class and ordering dumb overpriced drinks for you.” you let out a quiet laugh at his last sentence and he smiles, pulling away slightly so he’s able to see your face.
“i guess we’re both kind of stupid,” you conclude, earning a nod from the dark haired boy. “only when it comes to you,” he says, “i happen to think i’m very intelligent on every other occasion.”
when you finally regroup with everyone, they’re all wearing looks of disappointment on their faces. upon asking what happened, eunseok shoves a thumb in sungchan’s direction, the brown haired boy adorning a sheepish expression. “this fucker got the time wrong. the movie was at 6:15, not 7:15,” eunseok grimaces, “i better get a refund for my ticket.”
“you didn’t even pay for it,” wonbin says, “i did. sohee’s, too.”
anton, having been the first one to notice both yours and wonbin’s disappearance from the group, narrows his eyes at the boy. “and where were you?” he raises a brow, attempting to look intimidating. wonbin dismisses him with the wave of a hand.
before you and wonbin decided to rejoin your friends, you had to tell him not to hold your hand, much to his dismay. only after discovering the reason why, did he reluctantly agree.
you stand as far away from wonbin as possible, putting on a melancholy act. shotaro is the first to take notice of this, putting a hand on your shoulder. “did you tell him?” he questions, your silence serving as an answer in itself. eunseok overhears, looking at you with pity in his eyes.
when anton finally sees the distance put between you and wonbin, he concludes that you weren’t able to tell him about your feelings. he sighs, shaking his head.
as if on cue, you look at wonbin with determination burning in your eyes, beginning to advance towards him. the group is silent as they watch the two of you curiously.
“dark star,” you begin straightforwardly, “i’m in love with you.” wonbin tries concealing his laughter as he swiftly takes in the reactions of his friends. eunseok smiles knowingly while anton and shotaro are wide-eyed. seunghan wears an amused expression, sohee’s eyebrows are raised, and on top of it all, sungchan looks incredibly confused.
wonbin, keeping up the act, covers his mouth in mock astonishment. “did you guys hear that?” he turns to his friends, who are now all aware that they’re being pranked. “my girlfriend is in love with me!” wonbin beams, “metal blaze, i accept your confession.”
eunseok clicks his tongue, nodding. “metal blaze, that’s a good one,” he notes under his breath.
“alright, we get it,” anton groans, “it took you guys long enough.” he turns to you, unable to stop a smile from forming. “i hope you know i was never actually going to tell him myself. i only said that in hopes of scaring you into telling him.”
you nod, “eunseok told me that already. and it wasn’t me that confessed to wonbin— he confessed to me.” everyone is shocked at your comment, seunghan walking behind wonbin and giving him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. you purposefully skip over the fact that you all but cried to wonbin immediately after said confession about how much you liked him in return, and he pinches your side.
“you know, when you guys disappeared, i made a bet with shotaro that you guys were probably making out somewhere,” eunseok adds, “he said you guys were probably just in the middle of the whole confessing thing. i owe him seven bucks now.” shotaro pats him on the back with false sympathy.
as the topic of conversation shifts to something else, sungchan’s jaw is still practically on the floor. he looks at the way wonbin has his arm around your shoulders, head practically buried in your neck. he can’t stop himself from blurting out his next words.
“has y/n had a crush on wonbin this entire time?!”
AUTHOR’S NOTE! congrats to u if u survived reading all that ohhh lord i promise i’ll make y/n less unbearable next time but for now u guys are just gonna have to find it in ur hearts to forgive me… also it’s 5am rn and idk if i hate this fic umm we’ll see if i regret posting this when i wake up tmr
synopsis: you and mark have a crying, upset toddler on your hands, and it seems there are only a few things that can make her happy, — like spending time with her daddy, and watching the grinch.
pairing: girl dad!mark x female!reader
genre: fluff, domesticity, established relationship
word count: 2.4k
contains: very loving husband and father mark. very patient mark. christmas themes, santa talk. daughter doesn't have a name, but he calls her "cookie". fluff galore.
author's note: christmas is around the corner so some of the future drabbles im planning to put out will be about christmas <3 meelings (mark feelings) are open (always) (so feel free to discuss anything mark related with me <3)
©️ kongjjen 2024. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.
Mark’s keys jingle in his hand before he opens the front door, the delicious smell of dinner hitting his nose as soon as he steps foot inside the house. He knows this smell, the spices, the veggies, the sauces. You’re making a roasting — a dish he loves, that you cook very often during winters, because you know it’s one of his favourites.
He thinks he could kiss you, if only he could find you. Where are you?
He thinks you’re in the kitchen, but the roast is sitting perfectly inside the oven, the pan with veggies still cooking on the stove on a small flame, and the bowls with sauces and chutneys sitting on the kitchen counter far away from the edge, that you both know your daughter can reach to steal her mom’s delicious chutney — just to eat with her fingers stealthily by herself.
He throws the keys in the bowl by the entrance, finally taking his jacket off. He wanted to see you so badly that he didn’t even bother to do his routine when he came home, immediately going to look for you.
There’s something odd going on, he thinks, because your daughter is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and she’s usually at the door the moment she hears the jingling of his keys right before he tries to open the door. Not seeing you and your daughter makes him unsettled just a tiny bit, considering there’s the stove that’s still on and he can’t find you.
He drags his slippers on the hardwood floor towards the living room, and his heart skips a bit seeing you looking through the boxes full of Christmas decorations.
You and Mark love celebrating Christmas, and ever since you two got married you started establishing family traditions. And now you also have your daughter to pass everything on to. You’ve never skipped decorating the house, putting up a tree, Christmas films and singing carols and Christmas songs while baking cookies or cooking meals, and now you have your daughter to join in on the fun. And thankfully, when it comes to Christmas season, she’s just as enthusiastic as both you and Mark — and she’s a big Santa believer.
“Hi, baby,” Mark rasps from behind you, and you flinch, clutching a few Christmas lights to your chest. You turn around to look at him, your eyes big with what Mark thinks is fear by being taken by surprise, and he giggles. “I’m so sorry, did I scare you?”
You nod, putting the lights down carefully, and then wrapping your arms tightly around him.
“I didn’t hear your keys at all!” You sigh, your head falling in the crook of his neck. You inhale his scent, and you sigh once again. You always wondered how’s it possible for your husband to always smell so good, even after a busy and tiring work day.
“Maybe that’s why cookie didn’t come running to the door,” he laughs, pinching your back to make you raise your head from his shoulder. You know that’s his silent sign that he wants you to kiss him.
You giggle, grabbing his cheeks and bringing him in for a soft kiss. His lips are soft as always, and his nose feels cold while touching yours. You peck his lips repeatedly a few more times, before letting go of him.
“I think cookie is upset, that’s why she didn’t come down from her room,” you finally respond, and Mark takes a seat on the armchair between the many boxes full of decorations.
“Why?” Mark asks worried, and he picks up a few Christmas lights to untangle them.
“She wouldn’t tell me, but I’m guessing she’ll open up when her tummy is full,” you chuckle, and Mark laughs knowing that you’re right. You both know your daughter will forget about what made her so upset after she’ll eat something.
“What colour you wanna make it this year, baby?” He rasps, looking at the different boxes full with Christmas globes, while his fingers are fast at work untangling the strings full of lights. He really liked the white ones, but he knows you’ve always made it work no matter the colour. The year you found out you were having a baby girl you decorated the Christmas tree with soft pink globes and ornaments, and he loved it, even if he’s never thought pink could ever be a fit for Christmas.
You point at the blue ones, various tones of blue filling the huge box, but then you point your finger at the box containing the white ones, his favourites, and you let him know you’re indecisive. Blue is his favourite colour, but he really, really likes the white ones.
“You can choose what-” you’re interrupted by someone trying the front door handle, and Mark looks worried towards the from door, his neck lurching in its direction immediately.
Both you and Mark see your daughter wearing her warm hello kitty hat, open jacket around her small figure and her pink backpack hanging off her shoulders.
“Cookie? Where are you going?” Mark asks, still stretching his neck to look towards the front door.
Thank god Mark has the habit of locking the door as soon as he comes home.
“Bye bye mommy!” She blurts out, “Bye bye daddy!” She tries the door handle once again, but the door doesn’t open, so she’s left standing helpless in front of it.
Mark throws you a look, just to find you already looking back at him. You both look at her, and she doesn’t move for ten good seconds, before she turns around with tears in her eyes.
You both know not to panic, knowing that your daughter can be a little drama queen sometimes.
“Bye bye mommy and daddy? Where are you off to?” He asks her, seeing as she’s still standing there.
“The North Pole,” she explains, her voice trembling a bit.
“The North Pole?” You ask, and you and Mark look at each other once again. He raises his eyebrows at you, asking you what’s going on, but unfortunately for him, you don’t have any idea either. “That’s where Santa lives,”
“Yes,” she blurts out, tears streaming down her puffy cheeks, “I’m bringing him my letter,”
“Your letter? But it’s too early, cookie,” Mark intervenes, and it’s one of those times he doesn’t know where this conversation is going — and one of those very few times when he doesn’t know what’s going on inside his daughter’s head.
“It’s not! Yuka and Soo already sent theirs!” She speaks clearly this time, but she’s still full of rage, you can see it in her big expressive eyes, that she took from Mark.
It all clicks in your and Mark’s heads. It’s not the first time your four year old is influenced by her kindergarten friends, and it doesn’t matter how many times you and Mark tried telling her that she doesn’t have to do what everyone else is doing, she’s still a four year old child at the end of the day.
“Cookie, but you’re not Yuka, or Soo!” You explain, preparing your big Christmas traditions speech, hoping for Mark to jump in at some point, because she always listens to him and understands things best when he’s the one doing the explaining, or nagging. Even though the nagging part is almost never happening, coming from him.
“Mommy’s right, cookie,” Mark moves a bit in his seat, making eye contact with her, “We didn’t even set the tree up! We send the letter to Santa when we’re done with the tree here,” he points at the spot where you usually put the tree up. “But if you want to go to Santa’s house you can go, we’ll see you in January,”
She stays still for a bit, before she registers what her dad just said.
“January? But Christmas is in December!” She freaks out, eyes already brimming with tears.
“Yes, but Santa lives far away, by the time you'll come back me and mommy will have the tree already put back in the box,” he talks to her like he would to a grown up, and that’s what you love about Mark.
He’s such a good father, he always treats her as a human first, and child second. He’ll try to explain to her why some things are good, why some things are bad, he always challenges her development and skills by treating her like a grown up. You and Mark always encourage her to speak her mind, express her feelings and what’s going on inside her mind, to tell you all her worries and fears. As a writer, Mark always challenges her imagination and creativity, making her come up with stories and all sorts of plots that he sometimes uses in his own books, discussing things with her like he would with his editor.
And most importantly, as parents, you always work hard to make her understand that she doesn’t have to do everything her friends do. She’s still a baby, your baby, but neither you nor Mark would ever forgive yourselves if you knew something happened to her because you weren’t cautious enough and good parents.
“So you better go now, if you want to reach his house before Christmas,” Mark encourages, falsely busying himself with the Christmas lights in his lap.
“But I can’t miss Christmas!” She throws a fit, panicking at the same time. She looks desperately at you, asking for help, but you know better than crossing Mark’s words and tactics. Parenting 101.
“Maybe you should wait a bit, cookie,” Mark turns to her once again, “Mommy is making some roasting, you should bring a bit to Santa as well, as a gift,”
“We have roasting?” She freaks out once again. The idea of missing the sauce and chutney brings her to the breaking point, and hearing her father instructing her to leave soon makes her cry immediately.
She starts sobbing, unconsoled and alone in the entry hallway, holding her white teddy bear, Sugar, tightly. Your heart breaks for her, but you know she needs to learn not to sneak out of the house in the future, and to always come to you or Mark if she needs help.
“Why are you crying?” Mark asks, finally putting the lights away, still as tangled as before. “Come to daddy, cookie,” he instructs, opening his arms, and the crying girl launches towards him.
The moment she feels her daddy engulfing her in a warm embrace, she starts sobbing uncontrollably, holding his grey sweater tight in her small fist. He pats her back, kissing her forehead trying to comfort her.
“I don’t wanna go!” She screams, snot already reaching her mouth, and between screams she licks her lips. You try your best to hold your laugh in, not wanting to distress her even more, but you know you and Mark will have the best talk later tonight after putting her to bed.
“Then you don’t have to go, cookie,” you reassure her, crouching down at Mark’s feet to get a better view of your daughter. “But what were you thinking? Sneaking out without telling me and daddy?”
“Sorry,” she sobs, feeling ashamed.
“Daddy will help you with the letter, but we always do it after the tree is up, yeah?” He reassures her, “Let’s do things the good way, cookie, the way we usually do, not the way others tell us to do, alright?”
“So you didn’t forget?” She whispers, fearing her father’s response.
“Forget writing to Santa? Never!” He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand, scoffing, all while looking at you. “Daddy will help you, like I always do!”
She stops crying, already sweating from wearing the big fluffy hat on her head, and Mark takes it off immediately, smoothing her hair with his gentle touch.
“Can daddy see the letter you wrote?” Mark pats her on the back to have her attention, gesture that’s the equivalent of the pinch he gives you when he wants your attention.
She separates herself from her daddy, sniffing briefly before reaching behind herself for her backpack. She takes a crumpled piece of paper out, handing it to Mark, who opens it so you can see as well.
Vertical, horizontal lines fill the otherwise blank page, only god knows what she meant when she wrote them. There are a few drawings at the bottom of the page, made hurriedly — you and Mark both recognise she hurried and wasn’t as careful as she usually is, desperate to finish it fast and leave to personally take it to Santa’s. A cat, a bunny, a bike, a few princesses scattered around, wearing all sorts of coloured gowns.
You and Mark already know what to get her for Christmas, but writing the letter for her will give you the confirmation of her wishes. You already smile thinking of Mark’s pretty handwriting filling the flimsy page.
“Can we watch the Grinch, daddy?” You daughter asks, licking the snot above her lip away.
You look at Mark, who’s already looking at you, and he makes a small movement with his head, pointing towards the kitchen, clearly giving you a way out before it’s too late. You’re very lucky to have your daughter obsessed with your husband, and you’re even more lucky to have a patient husband who loves your daughter incredibly much, she’s his whole world.
You take the opportunity to leave them alone, going back to the kitchen to keep an eye on the roasting and the veggies still cooking slowly on the stove, hearing your daughter from the other room, and how she’s chewing her daddy’s ears off talking about scenes from the Grinch.
And Mark, poor soul, he has to sit on the couch with his little girl, watching the cartoon as if he hasn’t already watched it thirty thousand times. He knows the jokes, the lines, it’s like he wrote the thing himself. And he wonders how his little girl doesn’t get tired of it, ever.
But hopefully, you’ll save him soon enough like you always do, bringing some lame excuse up just to save him. Hopefully, tonight you’ll need someone to stir your veggies.
summary | a series of routines between you and your boyfriend, renjun, shortly after moving in with each other.
genre | huang renjun x fem!reader. non-idol! au. angst with a cute ending, renjun is a bit protective
warnings | a lot of self doubt, jaemin’s girlfriend is awful and mean, y/n and renjun overset boundaries (if that’s a thing)
wc | 3.7k
a/n: renjun is the love of my life and i would do anything for him even w the military cut amen thank you god also suhyun isn’t based off anyone
TO BE HONEST, it would be a lie to say you weren’t expecting this. Despite that, there was a glimmer of hope, an all-consuming glimmer, that made you believe your moving into Renjun’s apartment would be more than it actually was.
Renjun values his alone time, and you know that. You’ve respected it for your whole relationship, and, honestly, it wouldn’t be too far off to say you held the same sentiments. You would even say that was half the reason you both fit together so well.
When you first brought up moving in together, you’d suggested separate bedrooms, claiming it might be better for both of you. It was Renjun who rejected the idea, saying it would just drive a wedge between you two and how much you hung out.
You were overjoyed then, but not so much now.
Glancing at your clock, which read 1:03 am, you were upset that you couldn’t fall asleep. You were exhausted, with your eyes hurting at every movement and your limbs stuck to the mattress, but closing your eyes and letting your mind run made everything worse.
You were on the left corner of the bed, and Renjun had squared himself all the way to the right. He hadn’t so much as touched you, only offering you a small “good night” and a smile. He’d fallen asleep quickly, too, as he always did, not giving you a second thought.
Renjun wasn’t very touchy (and, once again, you weren’t either). Still, a part of you had also hoped that he’d initiate even the slightest bit of skinship, whether it be hand-holding or even the slightest bit of proximity between you two. But, no, he was at least a foot away from you, maybe more, tucked into himself.
As you were realizing, it felt…bad. Even if he normally slept like this, even if you both weren't big into skinship, it felt awful. It felt like he was afraid to touch you, uncomfortable with touching you, even though you lived together.
You’d get over it, soon enough. You knew Renjun loved you—he’d let you move into his apartment, for free no less, for god’s sake—but, in little moments like these, it’s hard to wrap your mind around.
-
Usually, you like hanging out with Renjun’s friends. They’re a fun group of people, always having something to bicker over or joke about, and you never leave without laughing until your cheeks hurt.
Tonight, though, was terrible.
Jaemin had invited his girlfriend—a rare occurrence from him, as they’d only started dating recently—and he had no issue with any sort of affection, even in front of so many people. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, practically dragged her onto his lap, and hugged her for nearly the entire night, all of which were things you would hate to happen to you.
Still, you couldn’t help but compare them to how you felt now.
Meanwhile, the rest of Renjun’s friends were going on and on about your new living situation, poking fun at how you came in the same car and left in the same one. Haechan particularly teased you both, referring to you as the first married couple in the relationship. At one point, he assumed a mocking old-lady voice, asking “when are you planning to have kids?” which drew a long sigh from both you and Renjun.
Unfortunately, the lovey-dovey jokes on top of Jaemin and Suhyun made you want to drive a drill into your skull more than ever.
You were particularly quiet on the ride home, staring at the moon from the car window. You wondered if the moon felt lonely orbiting the Earth, in the way you somehow managed to feel lonely in the most loving relationship you’d experienced in your whole life.
Of course, Renjun picked up on your quietness almost immediately. “Are you feeling okay?” he had asked, linking your pinkies together as he drove. The touch, as simple and as common as it was in your relationship, sent an uncomfortable sensation down your arm.
“I’m okay,” you replied, trying to sound as chipper as possible. “They tire me out.”
He didn’t press more, humming in response. You knew he didn’t believe you, but Renjun also trusted that, if something was wrong and you didn’t share, you would know how to handle it.
When you got home, you practically slid into bed almost immediately. Your skincare routine was cut short and you put on your warmest pajamas, mostly in hopes that they’d make you feel more loved at night than Renjun did.
You were in bed before him, but, once again, you couldn’t sleep. Instead, you kept your eyes closed, even when Renjun was talking on the phone with Mark in a hushed voice, even when he pressed his hand to your forehead and told Mark “no, she doesn’t have a fever,” even when he crawled into bed next to you (yet still so far away) and whispered a quiet “good night,” even though he thought you were sleeping.
-
You thought things wouldn’t get worse than they already were. You convinced yourself this was temporary, this was okay, that you’d get over it soon enough.
Renjun’s friends had other plans, though.
Living with him meant seeing them a lot more. Renjun held a lot of importance to making sure his friends knew you, and that you knew his friends. Skipping out on their get-togethers often would make him upset, and you didn’t want to make him upset.
Hanging out with his friends, however, was starting to make you upset, ironically enough.
Somehow, Mark had come upon a large amount of very illegal fireworks (his friend Johnny had given them to him, which upset Haechan a fair amount, for some reason). Now, you were sitting in Chenle’s backyard—his huge, multi-acre backyard—lighting them off.
The only issue was Jaemin inviting his girlfriend again, and them being all over each other, as per usual. You and Renjun were sitting next to each other, sure, but you were about half a foot apart and hadn’t touched each other since Renjun helped you onto the ledge you both sat on.
The moment Jaemin and Suhyun arrived, she was sitting in his lap, and he was whispering stuff in her ear, and she was marveling at the colors, and Jaemin was looking at her like she was the world. The only issue was that you knew that you’d hate it, once again, but you couldn’t help but yearn for what they had, what she had.
Mark dropped his phone onto the grass once a big group of fireworks went off, evidently done recording that round. He looked at Chenle, saying something to him (which you couldn’t hear), just before running off towards where the rest of the fireworks were.
As silence overtook the group, Suhyun turned towards your ledge, suddenly staring you down. It made you more anxious, and it took everything in you to stand your ground and not twiddle your thumbs in discomfort.
You began to open your mouth to comment on the fireworks, but Suhyun filled the silence before you could.
“So you two are dating?” she asked, looking between you and Renjun. He looked over at her, giving her a wary look you could only describe as his signature just-shut-up look.
“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, wondering if she’d miraculously forgotten that you both were introduced to her as a couple. She hummed in recognition, nodding and biting her lip. She looked as though she was plotting something, a certain emotion you couldn’t pinpoint flashing behind her eyes.
With the small upturn of her lips, she asked, “For how long?”
You weren’t looking at him directly, but you could’ve sworn Renjun rolled his eyes at her question. He looked annoyed that she even decided to speak to you, hell, he just looked annoyed.
“Three years,” he replied. Usually, when someone asked how long you’d been together, he was excited to answer, as if he was proud of the length of time. Now, he looked unhappy and angry, like he wanted nothing more than for Suhyun to shut up.
“Really?” she suddenly replied, her eyes widened and her brows lifted. This whole situation was off-putting; more often than not, when people responded to “three years” with “really?” their tone of voice was impressed, but hers felt surprised in a not-so-kind way.
You heard Haechan, who sat next to you, suck in a breath, like he was going to start speaking, but he never got the chance.
“Sorry, it just doesn’t look like you guys even like each other.”
The words were nails screeching on a chalkboard, a violin’s strings violently snapping in the middle of the song, a hammer flying through a glass door.
Your stomach tightened, and you tensed immediately. Without skipping a beat, Renjun said, “Excuse me?” with the most malicious tone you’d heard out of him in a while. She shrugged, looking back towards Mark and Chenle. Jeno hopped off the ledge instantly, looking back at Renjun and Haechan before jogging out towards the two stragglers.
“Hey,” Jisung suddenly piped in from his blanket on the grass, face contorting into one of apprehension. “Maybe let's talk about something else.”
Jaemin looked a bit shocked, his eyes widened and his mouth slightly ajar, but he didn’t try to say anything. In the tense silence, Haechan let out a loud scoff, drawing you to look at him. He had the same expression as Renjun—intense dislike, maybe even hatred—and you felt like you were missing something.
“What the fuck do you know?” Haechan spat, crossing his arms. “Just because they aren’t making out every second of the day doesn’t mean they don’t like each other.”
“What I want to know,” Renjun began with a tight voice, and, suddenly, you were scrambling, realizing he was very upset by the question, and Renjun was not easy to deal with when angry. You put your hand over his, cringing at the unconsented touch, but still hoping it would help in the slightest. “Is why you think you know anything about my relationship when you’ve met my girlfriend once before today? I suppose I’m not following.”
The sort of politeness in his voice was one you were accustomed to. When he was especially upset, he took on a sort of condescension, yet he lowered his chin to look up at whoever he was talking to. Jaemin, definitely not thinking straight, jumped to Suhyun’s defense at the sight of Renjun’s offense.
“Dude, chill out,” he said, visibly tightening his arms around Suhyun’s stomach. “She didn’t mean it like you think she did.”
Suhyun looked towards the speed-walking Mark, Chenle, and Jeno, puffing her lips out into an unassuming pout.
“No, I think she did mean it like that. Just like she’s meant everything else,” Renjun replied, and then the blame had shifted.
“Renjun,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s fine. Just ignore it.”
Instead, he ignored you. Haechan did too, apparently, coming to Renjun’s defense.
“I guess she didn’t mean it, though, huh? When she called Mark a loser, or when she told me to go waste my time pining over another one of my friends.” He laughed dryly, rolling his neck in a circle. “Get a grip, Jaemin. Holy shit.”
“Guys.” Mark “the mediator” Lee appeared, but he’d shown up all too late. Renjun returned your hand-holding, but he did so to pull you off the ledge with him. Abruptly, you were exiting the firework hang-out, Haechan following close behind.
“Guys!” Mark called out once again, but Renjun didn’t look back, not until you were in the car.
-
Upset Renjun had made things worse at home.
When you’d gone to bed, he opted to stay up with Haechan in the living room. You’d never seen him so worked up, not like this. Part of it made you feel good, feel loved, but the other part of it made you feel worse than before.
You knew the reason she’d said that was your lack of couple-presenting activities, or, more simply, PDA. She hadn’t heard an ‘I love you’ or anything similar once, and, if you had to guess, the first time she’d seen you touch Renjun was when you were trying to calm him down.
In a way, she was right. It was bad to even consider it, but she was kind of right.
The sound of your front door opening and closing was loud, but you were glad Haechan was gone and Renjun was coming to bed. Taking one last look at the moon, you squeezed your eyes shut, curling into yourself. If you were lucky, sleep would come easy tonight, but this was one of the unluckiest nights of your life, so far.
Renjun opened the door to your bedroom a little too roughly, but he closed it very gently, so as not to disturb your fake sleep. There was the sound of clothes rustling, of belts being taken off and sweatpants being put on, but it seemed like he would be bypassing his usual, extensive nighttime routine.
Instead, he got under the covers right beside you, tugging you into his chest. Your eyes flew open, followed by a small “Renjun?” that escaped from your throat.
“Go back to sleep,” he mumbled into your neck, causing goosebumps to sprout down your arms. “I love you. Good night.”
And, for the first time in about two weeks, you fell asleep with ease.
-
Nothing had changed. You were hopeful it had, after that night, but once Renjun calmed down, everything was the same, and you were back to feeling the sinking feeling in your stomach all too soon.
There was something that had shifted, though, and that is how you ended up sitting across from Mark at a small cafe in the city. He was nervous, you could easily tell from the way he spoke to the way he walked. When he texted you, he was sure to inform you that this was about Renjun and Jaemin, nothing more, nothing less.
“I don’t know what to do,” he sighed, putting his head in his hands. “They’re at each other’s throats, even though this should be something they get over easily. Hyuck is taking Renjun’s side, and so is Jeno, but the rest of us are pretty much neutral. It’s causing a lot of drama. I don’t know.”
“In the kindest way possible,” you began to respond, taking a big gulp of your coffee. “The problem here seems to be Suhyun and not Jaemin or Renjun.”
“I guess so, but…was the comment really that bad?”
In a burst of sudden discontent, you frowned. “I think…I think the issue is that she was a little too right.”
Mark furrowed his brows, suddenly confused. “I mean, right about what? You and Renjun orbit each other like…like two colliding stars, or something—god, that was a little cringy of me. But, seriously, I can’t see how she was right.”
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you decided, at the moment, Mark was someone you could trust. He would know how to drag you out of the situation you were in, you were sure of it. “Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“Renjun and I, like, barely even touch each other. The last time we even kissed was three days ago, and it was only because he was going to be gone for a long while. It’s like…moving in with each other made us afraid of each other,” you lamented, looking down at your hands. “We share a bed, but he sleeps as far as he possibly could from me. Like, the other night, I felt uncomfortable even holding his hand. We are stepping over boundaries we had set like two weeks into our relationship. I guess Suhyun must’ve picked that up somehow, but…I don’t know.”
Mark was quiet for a minute, and, when you looked up, he seemed to be deliberating something. “That’s why you’ve been so out of it, then? Not because you're feeling bad or something is going on at work?”
“…Yeah, that would be why.”
“I get it. It makes sense now, why he got that angry and why things have been weird. I’m not saying I like Suhyun, she seriously is awful, but it makes sense.”
“What—what should I do?”
Mark thought for a minute more, tapping his chin. “Okay, here’s our plan. I break Jaemin and Suhyun up using Jeno, and you ask Renjun for a hug. How about that?”
-
You and Renjun used to ask each other for hugs a lot. Back in the first year of your relationship, it was commonplace for you both, and the answer was always yes. Then, during your second year, there was less asking and more just-doing. The third year brought a weird type of hesitation that came with living with someone else for the first time, not in the way of a roommate, but in the way of a lover.
You didn’t expect to be nervous to ask Renjun for a hug ever.
You were coming home from a movie you’d planned on seeing in the Cinema weeks in advance. You were quick to shed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the hooks next to your front door. Your shoes came off and you stretched your arms out, glad to be inside your warm apartment and no longer out in the rainy cold.
This was when you decided you’d ask Renjun for a hug. Even if you were so nervous you could die, you would ask him for that hug, no matter what.
When you put your purse down, you began hyping yourself up internally, screaming at yourself to just go for it, that he was your boyfriend, and you’d done much worse than a hug before. So, with a brave pivot, you stared at Renjun with conviction, and he stared back with confusion.
“Yes?” he asked, dropping the keys in the little bowl you had for them.
“Can I have a hug?” you forced out, ignoring how your throat tightened and you oddly felt like crying. He stared at you for a moment, before his mouth turned up into a big smile.
“What? You don’t have to ask me for a hug, loser,” he said, approaching you. He drew you into the allotted hug, rocking you back and forth with him. “We stopped asking so long ago. What prompted that?”
“I don’t know,” you lied, squeezing his waist as hard as you could. You couldn’t lie—Renjun gave very good, very warm hugs. He smelled of wood and the ocean, like the quiet beach town you’d both fantasized about living in. His sweaters were always warm and soft, engulfing you into a blanket-like embrace.
“You could…hug me more, you now. Maybe at night, and stuff. Like couples in a movie,” you suggested, burying your face into his neck. Renjun suddenly went quiet as you rocked around the room.
“Oh,” he finally erupted, squeezing you back. “Oh, I get it now. That was it.”
You didn’t say anything, even as Renjun erupted into a fit of little giggles. Through his chuckles, he said, “God, we are so stupid. I thought you were about to break up with me. I thought I’d done something. No, we were just being dumb. I have to tell Mark.”
“We aren’t dumb, we just respect each other too much. Isn’t that a good thing?”
Renjun unwrapped his arms from your waist, taking your face into his hands. “I guess, but not when it was driving us severely apart,” he mused.
Gently, Renjun pulled you into a kiss. It was reminiscent of the first few kisses you’d both shared, all of which were well-timed and disgustingly romantic. It was slow and soft, with no ill-intent behind either of your actions. It was filled with unspoken love and minty undertones, the softness of his lips and the warm feeling of his hands on your cheeks.
When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit blue. You’d unknowingly deprived yourself of your boyfriend for so long under the guise of “respecting his boundaries,” and now you just wanted to spend your time with him eternally.
“I love you,” he spoke in a sing-songy voice. It was much happier than the last time he’d told you he loved you.
“I love you too,” you replied with the same tune, smiling like an idiot. “Also, Mark is going to try to break Suhyun and Jaemin up.”
“Thank god,” Renjun breathed out, leaning his forehead against yours. “Did you know she practically harassed Chenle to set them up? She’s seriously awful. But, I’m going to text him to wait, so I can make out with you in front of her right before Jaemin leaves her for good.”
“I’d hate that,” you laughed. “Maybe we can hold hands or something.”
“No, she’s going to have to sit and watch. Just to prove a point.” Renjun planted another short kiss on your lips, pulling away for good this time. You followed after him, realizing he was just going to start dinner and wasn’t going to do anything special. “You can have a hug whenever you like, my dear. Just say the word, and I’m there.
thank you for reading!
I need a fic of reader going to bruno mars concert with woozi 😳
same energy
✮ ⋆˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩👾
doing ‘we listen and we dont judge’ with jisung !!
a/n: i hope yall have seen this trend, or else i just look stupid 😞
fake text m.list ☁︎⋅
━━ ENDGAME.
❛ You know when Jungkook says ‘give me five minutes’ you have to take matters into your own hands. ❜
━ REQUESTED: yes.
━ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader.
━ RATING: 18+
━ GENRE: smut, fluff (not that noticeable but they’re in love).
━ AU: idol, established relationship, pwp.
━ CONTENT: cock-warming, unprotected sex (your life isn’t a fanfic, take care of yourself), nipple play basically boob worshipping, spanking (just once, really).
━ CONTENT WARNING: spanking (again, just once), domestic boyfriend!koo cause that needs to be a warning.
━ TRIGGER WARNINGS: none.
━ WORD COUNT: 2,1k.
━ NOTE: gamer domestic boyfriend!koo, i missed youuuu~ this is the first of many things that i’ll repost here. i tried to make it less yucky, but you know my english isn’t all that great, so… if there are any mistakes PLEASE let me know, mmkay? thank you, i love you<3
check out my masterlist here.
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i’m a simple girl i see a man with big arms and a kind heart and i get a little stupid
17 seventeen memes guys
mingyu x reader genre: fluff word count: 2.5K
a/n: Well, this is my first svt piece so be kind lol. (I will not be writing svt super regularly but I wanted to write this one so here we are.) Mingyu and reader are at a wedding and I mean, is there anything sweeter than wedding vibes? I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading :))
Outside on the warmly lit patio, you observed the flushed cheeks of couples dancing and listened to the laughter flowing from groups of friends. When the breeze picked up, your senses were flooded with the sweet scent of the white hydrangeas that sat upon each table as a centerpiece. You loved outdoor weddings. Nature had a way of heightening beauty.
The man who caught your attention from across the dance floor was proof of that as the wind brushed through his dark fringe and ruffled his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt, pushing the material open just a bit more. Just enough for your eyes to find his collarbones. You imagined the valley between his built pectorals that hid just underneath the buttons. The golden hue of the setting sun shined on his equally golden skin, the man glowing as he stood with his shirt sleeves slightly pulled up over his forearms as he leaned against the bar. Looking at him, you realized even forearms could be stunning.
His body filled in his clothing perfectly, the slacks hugging his strong thighs. The way the shirt was tucked into his pants accentuated his slim waist, and you knew he was hiding his toned stomach beneath the material. So much unfortunate hiding, though you were thankful not just anyone in the venue could see every inch of his skin. This man had the power to make you greedy.
Rather carelessly, indulgently, you allowed your eyes to take in his tall frame. A modern-day Adonis. He tapped his index finger against the bar as he waited for the bartender to return with his drinks. Seemingly in his own world, he tilted his head slightly as his eyes looked down at the bar top. That is until he glanced up, directing his gaze across the venue without hesitation, finding you.
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