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adventureofblue · 11 months

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for the books | jeon wonwoo

summary | wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with. genre | fluff, teacher!au warnings | none, i think let me know! word count | 2.2k words pairing | jeon wonwoo x fem!reader min | lowercase intended i literally put off my other works to write this! delulu era to the max! i advocate for women in stem!!! also! this is like an american high school-level setting. lily is so out of pocket LOL (believe it or not there is a girl just like her at my school). this was 100% self-indulgent

"mr. jeon!" his student lily called. "so you're telling me that after all that, she still hasn't kissed him?" he looked up from his desk and looked over to his obviously distraught student. "lily! i didn't even finish it yet!" her friend mina yelled at her.

"i'm sorry! it's just so crazy how they didn't even kiss! even after they made up and he said all of that to her!" lily huffed.

"what did he say to her? i haven't gotten there yet either," daniel piped in.

"just read it! i'm sorry i brought it up in the first place," lily sighed and pulled out the worksheets she was supposed to complete after reading the book. he shook his head and went back to inputting grades into his computer. it was silly to think lily was just going to do her work. "mr. jeon, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked putting her pencil down. he paused momentarily, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "dude, that's so not cool for you to ask mr. jeon," daniel complained.

"what? we're reading this romantic novel, is it not fair to ask our english teacher if he's in a relationship?" lily replied, crossing her arms. "i mean we have to be reading this book for some reason."

"maybe it's just a part of the curriculum," mina rolled her eyes.

"do you seriously think mr. jeon is sending us subminimal signals about his love life through the books we're reading?" daniel asked.

"i don't know! maybe!" lily said. the three of them continued to argue back and forth at their table. wonwoo should probably stop this before the other students get irritated with the trio. "guys, i can assure you, i am not sending any messages about my love life. please get back to your work," wonwoo cleared his throat. he heard a disappointed noise, but pencils went back to scratching and pages started flipping again. soon it was the end of the class period and everyone was packing up. it was just lily. "next time, please refrain from asking personal questions in class," he asked.

"yes, of course. i'm sorry mr. jeon," lily bowed her head.

"it's alright. it can just be a bit distracting for your classmates. let's try to be more considerate."

"will do," she said, turning on her heel.

"oh and lily, just between me and you," wonwoo paused. "i don't have a girlfriend."

"he said he wasn't in a relationship!" lily cheered. daniel stared at her baffled, "didn't he say not to tell anyone?"

"yeah, but i mean, he must know that i'm going to tell you guys. you guys don't seem as nearly as excited about this as i do."

"why would we be? he's single, it's not like you have a chance with him or something," mina commented.

"no! ew! i would never try to go after a teacher, are you crazy? i'm saying that this is a perfect opportunity for us to get mr. jeon a date!" lily practically squealed.

"a date? with who?"

"with miss ___, of course! who else? haven't you guys ever noticed that they spend almost every lunch period with each other? they're so cute together!"

"maybe they're just planning classes or something," daniel shrugged.

"um, hello? mr. jeon teachers english literature and miss ___ teaches physics b. what would they planning together?"

"touché."

"i think it's time to enact a master plan."

"so everyone understands this equation, right?" you said, turning back to face the class. "tell me now, so i can help. this equation is the very foundation to magnetism, if you don't get it now i can't promise you'll do well in this unit."

no one put their hand up. you smiled, "oh well, i guess we just have a bunch of physic masters in this class. but seriously, let me know if you need help. you can start working on your homework packet now, this way if you have questions you can ask them now. i don't need your frantic emails at midnight."

you returned to your desk and flipped through some lesson plans. you didn't get to finish eating lunch today, so you took out your lunch bag. a small slip of paper fell out of it and onto the ground. you smiled to yourself and reached down to pick it up. "miss ___!" your student lily said, she was standing at the foot of your desk.

"yes, lily?" you answered.

"i have a question about something."

"have at it."

"it isn't physics related though." you looked up, slipping the slip into your pocket. "then, what's it about? do you need to go to the nurse?" you frowned.

"no it's nothing like that, but i was told by another teacher not to ask questions like this in front of the whole class. he said it was inconsiderate," she shrugged.

"oh, um, well i guess you can go ahead."

"are you friends with mr. jeon?"

you froze. mr. jeon? as in english literature teacher mr. jeon? mr. jeon you eat lunch with him every day mr. jeon? maybe they started picking up on something. "well, yeah, i guess you could say that," you coughed. "why are you asking this all a sudden?"

"well, i came by mr. jeon's class before lunch to ask him about an assignment and i saw you there. i didn't want to interrupt, but i didn't know you guys were friends," she shrugged, averting her eyes.

"oh well, yes. mr. jeon started at his position around the same time i did a few years ago. so we got close because of that."

"that's so- i mean, i'm sorry to pry. i was just curious. i mean usually i don't see english teachers and physics teachers talk that much. thanks!"

the whole exchange left you a little baffled.

lily seemed determined to get you and wonwoo together. she began to pry more often and she was getting bolder one question at a time. she even asked if you were in a relationship and if you got you cute gifts for birthdays and holidays from your boyfriend. sometimes she got very bold and mentioned mr. jeon by name. "miss ___, don't you think mr. jeon is cute? you two would be so cute together." you had replied, "i don't think this is time or the place to talk about this, lily. please do your practice problems." you rolled your eyes, "i don't feel like i'm at liberty to answer that."

you couldn't bring yourself to actually discipline her or her friends (who had seemingly joined in on the deep dive about your love life). they were curious teenagers looking for gossip. hell, you were like that too. you felt it would be unfair to punish them for that, as long as it didn't get too inappropriate, you didn't mind. it was a bit endearing too.

you just had to push the thought out of your mind. it was time to go to lunch anyway. it was the perfect time to clear your head.

"has lily been asking you some personal questions lately?" wonwoo asked, leaning back in his chair. god, he looked so handsome today. his glasses, pressed shirt, and ironed pants. "yes, has she been causing a raucous here too?" you asked, taking a seat at one of the desks.

"well, she asked me if i think you're beautiful," he chuckled.

you paused. you would be lying if you said you didn't feel anything for the man sitting in front of you. he was smart and kind.

"of course, i told her you are a lovely human being inside and out, and to get back to doing her project."

"funny, she was telling me that she and her friends thought we'd make a cute couple." he laughed at that, and it made your chest flutter. you loved his laugh. "cute couple, that's so cute," he gasped.

"yeah i know right. who knew our students would start trying to set us up," you joked. he nodded in agreement getting up after his microwave went off from the other side of the room. "it would be so funny if they actually succeeded, but it does seem a bit pointless at this point, right?" he noted.

"yeah, totally pointless," you agreed.

you and wonwoo, being set up, by your students of all people. it sure would be for the books if it happened like that.

what an absurd idea.

the rest of the week went as usual, uneventful, but you did get to see wonwoo on the way out of the building and into the parking lot. he held his leather bag in his right hand. "on the way out today?" he asked. "don't you usually do tutoring sessions after school on fridays?"

"we just started a unit, and no one showed up after the fifteen-minute window. i'm out of here," you laughed. he smiled. you loved it when he smiled. "want to walk out together then?" he offered and pushed the door open for you. something about him was so calming and comforting. you smiled and averted your gaze to the floor. even after all these years, he made you a little nervous. you did miss the way he grinned when he caught your shy smile. he loved the way you smiled too. he couldn't wait to see it again, he needed to see it again as soon as possible. he was too lost in thought about the way you smile and the way your voice sounds, that he fell far behind you. "___, wait up," he called as you made your way through the faculty parking lot. he jogged to catch up to you and reached out to grab your hand.

"i swear i saw him kiss her out in the parking lot," daniel insisted. "they were holding hands too!" at this point, lily was totally unmotivated to get her two favorite teachers together. not after miss ___ shut her down on numerous occasions and mr. jeon was just as friendly but unbothered as ever giving his most PG answers. "whatever, daniel," lily huffed. "they would be so perfect together."

"he's literally telling you that they're together, he saw them kissing!" mina exclaimed. lily rolled her eyes. they were all hallucinating just to make themselves feel better that it was wishful thinking. "true love isn't real!" she cried.

"it's time to wake up, sweetheart," he mumbled. "you said you had lots of work to do today."

"yeah, well it's my day off too. i'll get to work later," his fiancé groaned.

"oh come on, i know you're desperate to do all that paperwork," he teased. he tugged on the warm body text to him to pull it closer to him. he loved waking up with his wonderful, beautiful, smart fiancé next to him.

he loved waking up next to you.

he knew the kids were asking about him and his love life. kids would be kids of course. "lily won't stop asking about my love life. it's funny since we both teach her," he said.

"i guess, she's never noticed the necklace with the ring hanging around my neck," you chuckled, nuzzling your face into wonwoo's neck. his arms easily wrapped around your body. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "you know, lily asked me if i had a girlfriend the other week," wonwoo murmured.

"she asked me if i had a boyfriend too," you hummed. "i just told her that it wasn't appropriate to ask that in class."

"i said something similar, but i did tell her i didn't have a girlfriend."

you paused. why would he say that? he was very obviously in a relationship, well obvious to the two of you. he even gave you a ring and a nice dinner to cement your relationship. "i obviously couldn't tell that i didn't have a girlfriend because i have a wonderful, smart fiancé," he laughed. you breathed an internal sigh of relief, but you still hit him in the chest. "that's so stupid," you groaned. "you're catching everyone on a technicality." he thought he was so clever and funny, ever the wordsmith.

"it's so hard not telling the students," wonwoo whispered, and you nodded your head in agreement. he didn't know why the two of you didn't tell the students yet, but the relationship started a bit secretively, almost right after the both of you were onboarded. he guessed the two of you never got out of the whole secret relationship. it was a bit exhilarating keeping the secret between you and him, and the admin. he felt like a teenager again. "maybe we should ease them into it, but let's not let them think it was all them," you said.

"maybe it's time for you to start wearing the ring on your finger then," he commented pulling away to get a better look at you. "i can't wait for you to become mrs. jeon," he smiled.

"yuck, so corny," you rolled your eyes with a smile. "you need to stop with these cheesy sayings early in the morning." nevertheless, you leaned forward and kissed him. he kissed back easily, "come on, i know you like the little notes i leave in your lunch."

"i do, now be quiet and just kiss me."

"gladly."

he did have the whole weekend until he had to go back to school. at least you made the day a little better.

min | im just in a silly goofy mood LOL. my poor attempt at humor and portraying what high schoolers are like. wonwoo being an english teacher just makes sense!!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! not proofread at the moment (it's 1 in the morning)

tagging: @a-wandering-stay

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adventureofblue · 1 year

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Summer Vacation with JOSHUA & VERNON of SEVENTEEN (Episode 1)

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adventureofblue · 1 year

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Closed Doors (Part 3, Final)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Genre: Hoshi x female!reader. Regency!AU. Your title is the Duchess of Graham but your first name is not mentioned.

Warnings: Not even remotely historically accurate. Much like Bridgerton, this is all about the aesthetic.

Word Count: 8.1k+

Part 1 Part 2

Series Masterlist [This is not the first installment in this series- it is strongly recommended to visit the Masterlist and read the installments in order as they are all interlinked and the timeline can be confusing.]

You awoke with the morning sun shining brightly in your eyes.

One of the maids had opened the curtains and cracked the window. There was a gentle breeze and you could hear birds chirping; the sounds and fresh smells of the countryside estate were much more pleasing than the smoke and noise of London.

You relaxed instinctively, knowing that you were home. It was warm under the covers and you sleepily sat up in bed and blinked at the maid.

“What time is it?” you asked her.

“It’s a quarter to eight, Your Grace. I thought perhaps you might want to sleep in, but since the Duke was already awake…” she trailed off with a giggle.

The drowsiness cleared and you suddenly remembered where you were. Not in your usual bedchambers, but in the bedchambers of your newly wedded husband, now the Duke of Graham. Your face grew hot as you remembered the events of the previous night. Soonyoung had surprised you many times since your first meeting, but the events of the previous night had perhaps been the most pleasurable surprise of all.

“Do you require anything, Your Grace?” the maid asked you, concerned. “If you are in any pain…”

You wrapped the bedsheets around you tightly and tried not to show your embarrassment.

“No- I… just help me dress, please. Where is the Duke?”

“In the master study downstairs, Your Grace. He has been there all morning.”

“All morning?”

“Yes, Your Grace. He was awake long before most of the servants had arisen.”

You were confused but kept your questions to yourself. You allowed the maid to help you dress and then went downstairs to the master study. This had been your late father’s favourite haunt, and although it was not as large as the grand library upstairs, it was still a luxurious room where your father had conducted most of his business meetings and matters of the estate.

The study door was slightly ajar. You could hear familiar male voices: Soonyoung, Mr. Johnson the estate manager, and one of his assistant bookkeepers.

“There are separate ledgers for the household and for the estate?” Soonyoung was saying in a slightly confused voice. “If I wanted to see a consolidated view of the overall finances-”

Mr. Johnson spoke up. “We reconcile everything on a quarterly basis, Your Grace. Those records are kept here. I would recommend viewing them separately, however, as the household ledgers only track expenses and outgoings and we report them here as a percentage of the gross income.”

Soonyoung sighed. There was a hint of frustration in his voice. “But that gross income is before you’ve provided for taxes?”

“Which taxes, Your Grace? The ones payable to the duchy or the ones payable to the Crown?” the bookkeeper asked patiently.

“Those are separate taxes?”

You knocked gently on the study door and pushed it open. Soonyoung was sitting behind the large mahogany desk, while various ledgers and volumes were open on the table before him. He was startled when he looked up and saw you. His ears promptly turned red and he jumped to his feet.

“Your Grace!”

The bookkeeper and Mr. Johnson also rose to greet you.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greeted them with a small smile. “Isn’t it rather early to be going through these tedious ledgers?”

Soonyoung rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “My apologies, Your Grace. I-I asked for Mr. Johnson to come. I wanted his help to better understand the matters of the estate.”

It was certainly unusual behaviour, but as with everything Soonyoung did, you could see his innocence and good intentions shining through. His eyes were bloodshot. If the maid was to be believed, Soonyoung had been here grappling with the ledgers since half past five in the morning. The new Duke of Graham evidently did not shy away from hard work. You felt a sudden rush of affection for this man, your husband, and his dedication to his new role.

“Perhaps we might adjourn for breakfast?” you suggested lightly.

Soonyoung nodded and hastily closed the ledgers before coming over to you. “Yes, yes, of course.”

“Shall we eat in the gardens?” you asked Soonyoung, who gave you a sudden handsome smile that made your heart skip a beat. You bit your lip and turned to the other gentlemen. “Thank you for coming on the Duke’s request, Mr. Johnson. I will ask the staff to arrange breakfast for you and your assistant in the parlour.”

Mr. Johnson nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Soonyoung offered you his arm and you took it before leaning closer to him. It was a strange and thrilling feeling to be so near him. While there was little reason to feel shy after the events of last night, you still enjoyed the subtle contact of your hand resting on his elbow. It was an innocent gesture, but now that Soonyoung was your husband, it felt far more meaningful.

The sight of his soft smile left a strange but pleasant feeling in your stomach.

The servants had set out your breakfast in the garden and Soonyoung blinked, squinting in the bright morning sunlight as you both stepped outdoors. The gardens were large and beautifully maintained with flower beds, water fountains, and artfully shaped hedges.

“This estate is even more beautiful by day,” Soonyoung said honestly.

You bit your lip. “Something you might have discovered sooner if you had not shut yourself in the study on your very first morning here,” you replied.

Soonyoung looked apologetic until he noticed the soft smile on your face. You did not appear angry, so he relaxed.

"I apologise if I worried you, Your Grace."

“I was only surprised. Was going through the estate ledgers so much more exciting than having breakfast with your wife?”

Soonyoung flushed. "No, I only…"

You smiled at him gently. "Yes?"

"As a second son I never took an interest in matters of the estate or business in my own family. Now I find myself the Duke of a duchy with a history and genealogy that goes back hundreds of years…" Soonyoung paused and bit his lip as he looked down at his teacup with a heavy sigh. "I only hope I can be what the title requires me to be."

You felt a sudden burst of affection for the man and you reached across the table to place your hand on top of his.

"Soonyoung."

"Yes?"

"I want you to know that you are not alone. I am genuinely grateful for the effort you are putting in," you told him honestly.

Soonyoung smiled in relief. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Shall we eat?"

It was a pleasant breakfast in the fresh morning air. Soonyoung seemed in awe of everything; from the breakfast spread to the perfectly maintained flower beds. Soonyoung polished off his meal enthusiastically while telling you about the childhood he spent in the countryside.

"I'm sure our estate wasn't even a quarter of this size," he admitted. "I don't remember much about it. I was sent off to boarding school and then the Royal Naval Academy fairly young, and I spent my summer breaks in London."

You blinked at him. "But the Viscount said he first met you in Oxford?"

He coughed, looking rather embarrassed. "Yes- I attended Oxford for about a year. It was fun; I made friends but I was bottom of the class and it was quite evident by the end of the first year that I was not about to become a barrister or a doctor. I thought I had best cut my losses, and transfer to the Royal Naval Academy."

"Were you drawn to the navy by a sense of adventure?" you asked with a smile.

Soonyoung chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "A boyish sense of adventure? I suppose so. I was certainly more motivated by the thought of defeating enemy warships than being called to the bar. I wanted to do something exciting, so I will not pretend that I was pleased to learn sailors are more likely to die from scurvy or drowning than at the edge of an enemy combatant's sword."

"Is there much sword-fighting in the Navy?"

He grinned at you sheepishly. "There was plenty in my fantasies."

You could not help but smile back at him. "It seems I must apologise, then, for depriving the Crown of a potentially heroic naval captain to defend our stormy seas."

"Considering the number of times I had to retake the lesson on using a sextant to navigate at sea, I am sure the Crown is quite grateful to you for keeping me on solid land, Your Grace," Soonyoung replied humbly.

"Oh- I have always wanted to learn how to use a sextant," you said brightly. "It's a funny little contraption, is it not?"

Soonyoung chuckled as he sipped his tea. "Fiddly little things and awful to use. I was horrified when I went to the academy and learned that ships did not just sail blindly into the vast unknown, and marine navigation involved an overwhelming amount of mathematics and nautical charting," he admitted.

"You expected more sword fighting?"

"I expected less calculating."

"Well," you said with a smile as you sipped your tea, "I am sorry that you are forced to do some calculating here. I noticed that you were going through the ledgers this morning. What prompted you to rise at daybreak on your first day and undertake that particularly painful task?"

Soonyoung blushed. "You will laugh if I tell you."

"Only if you say something funny."

“I- I woke at dawn and I could not sleep,” he admitted. His ears were slightly red. “I went out for a drink of water, but I wandered down the wrong hallway and found myself in what I now understand to be the ancestral gallery? It was a long hallway filled with portraits of your ancestors who all stared down at me disapprovingly from the walls. It struck me that I was responsible for continuing their legacy, and I did not relish the idea of having to face them if I hadn’t done everything in my power to uphold the glory of their duchy. I became quite anxious, so once I had escaped the gallery, I asked to meet the estate manager immediately.”

The corner of your lips twitched noticeably.

Soonyoung pouted at you. “You promised that you would not laugh, Your Grace!”

“I promised no such thing,” you replied, but you could not help but let out a giggle at the thought of the poor Duke wandering around the manor at dawn. “But I will not laugh at you. I will only make one observation.”

“That is?”

“Many of these ancestors you saw in the portrait gallery were drunkards, gamblers, and adulterers. I assure you that there is nothing particularly grand or glorious about most of them. They were simply rich men. I do not think you shall find it incredibly difficult to outshine them, Your Grace,” you told him. “Honestly- the only prerequisite to be added to that gallery is to stay alive long enough to produce an heir that will put up your portrait once you are gone.”

Soonyoung almost choked on his tea. “Yes- an heir, of course.”

You bit your lip and avoided his gaze. “There is… no particular urgency on that front.”

“Right.”

“Shall we take a tour of the manor, then, to prevent Your Grace from losing your way and encountering more anxiety-inducing portraits?”

Soonyoung smiled. “Yes, let’s.”

Over the course of your first day as Soonyoung's wife, you were surprised by how pleasurable you found his company. Soonyoung was not suave or charming in the style of men like Viscount Hong, nor did he possess the bold confidence or pride that were often considered desirable among the male sex.

No. Soonyoung was different. He was kind, he was honest, and he was humble. You had never met a man quite like him. You had never met a man that you wanted, more than anything in the world, to love and trust with all your heart.

It was a long day but time spent with Soonyoung went by in a flash. You showed him around the manor, the gardens and the creek and told him about your family and childhood and the estate. Soonyoung listened to you intently. He hung onto your every word and although you had always been a quiet and reserved person, you found yourself speaking more than you usually did, opening up to him, and even laughing.

Your maid, Rosie, noticed the lingering smile on your face as she helped you dress for bed later that night.

"If I may say something, Your Grace…" Rosie began shyly as she combed through your hair.

You blinked up at her in the mirror. "Yes?"

"We were all quite worried, Your Grace, when we heard that you had married in London so suddenly- and to a man with no fortune, even Mr Johnson thought perhaps Your Grace was being taken advantage of…"

You looked up at her defensively. "I may be a woman but I am not an idiot, Rosie."

Rosie flushed. "Of course not, Your Grace! I see that now… I think we all understand why you married the Duke."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Well… pardon me, Your Grace, but you haven't been yourself since the late Duke passed. You've become so quiet and withdrawn and we were rather worried. But since yesterday… well, old Mrs. Minnie in the gardens was saying that she couldn't remember the last time she saw you smiling so brightly."

You pursued your lips in embarrassment. Was it so obvious, even to the servants? You had always been careful not to reveal your true feelings too much, to mask your emotions behind a practised smile. But if even the servants could see that Soonyoung had such an effect on you…

The thought was strangely both comforting and scary.

There was a knock on your door. One of the servants opened the door and poked her head in. She seemed to be stifling a smile.

"Your Grace? The Duke is here for you. We found him wandering the upstairs hallways."

"Of course, please let him in. Are you done, Rosie?"

Rosie released your hair with a smile. "Of course, Your Grace. Good night."

The servants left while hiding their giggles, and Soonyoung entered your room with flushed cheeks. He was holding a bottle of wine- the same bottle, you realised, that you had brought to his room the previous night and left unfinished. He glanced awkwardly at the door that the servants exited from.

"That is the second time one of the servants caught me lost in the manor," he said, embarrassed. "I think they are all laughing at me. I had forgotten where your bedchambers were."

You smiled at him. "Shall I draw you a map?"

"I would probably lose the map as well," Soonyoung joked. He stepped closer to you and revealed the bottle in his hand. "Can I tempt you with a glass of wine before bed? We never finished this one last night."

You nodded. "Of course."

It was a strange sort of intimacy; comfortable and yet still exciting, to crawl under the covers with Soonyoung as he poured you a glass of wine. He lit a cigar with your permission. You ordinarily disliked the smell of tobacco, but oddly, you did not mind anything much when you were with Soonyoung.

Sipping the wine, you patiently answered his questions about the estate and the dukedom. You had been handling most of the important matters yourself for many months now; particularly since your father's illness had him bedridden.

"It must have been very difficult," Soonyoung said gently, "taking care of the estate while you were worried about your father's health."

You looked down at his fingers entwined with yours and sighed. His touch was warm and comforting.

"It was not easy," you confessed. "I lost my mother very young and my father was all I had. I was never a very social person. Without a mother or a sister to chaperone me I… I never even spent much time in society or at balls."

Soonyoung was quiet, but you could tell that he was listening.

"I had always felt alone, but it wasn't until my father passed that I realised how alone I really was," you continued. "He had wanted me to marry before he died but his health became worse suddenly…"

Soonyoung squeezed your hand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

You bit your lip. You had never spoken to anyone about this before and it felt almost cathartic to confess it all to Soonyoung.

"The day after my father died, all the vultures descended."

"Vultures?" Soonyoung asked, confused.

"One of my father's oldest friends- a nobleman more than twice my age- proposed marriage to me before my father had even been properly buried. When I refused him, he was furious. Another came to the funeral and told me that as a lady I couldn't possibly manage the duchy and that if I signed it over to him, he would take care of it for me and give me an allowance."

Soonyoung stared at you in disbelief.

"Monsters," he mumbled.

Your lower lip trembled. "There were more offers… some cruder than others. I began to realise that as long as I remained unmarried, I would continue to have a painted target on my forehead. But I had nobody to trust. That was when I finally reached out to Viscount Hong."

Soonyoung blinked. "But he is happily married."

You nodded. "That made it easier to trust him. I knew the Viscount from my youth, of course, but plenty of people that I knew from my youth had since revealed themselves to be untrustworthy. Viscount Hong was the only person who did not want anything from me and genuinely treated me as a friend. That is why I could confide in him. I sought his help to find a husband."

Soonyoung finished his glass of wine and then turned to look at you- his gaze was a little unfocused and you realised that he had drunk too much of the wine. The bottle lay empty on the bedside table.

"Wouldn't you rather have married him instead?"

Your eyes widened. "Soonyoung!"

His lower lip stuck out, almost in a pout as he leaned his head against one of the pillows lazily. His tone was contemplative. "It's hardly outrageous. Viscount Hong is rich, handsome, very charming…"

"And as you pointed out yourself, quite happily married," you protested.

"But you must have considered it?"

You blinked down at your husband. He did not seem angry; his eyelids seemed heavy but he forced them open to look up at you. It was genuine curiosity in his eyes and you felt obligated to answer him with honesty.

You sighed. "I will admit that I considered Viscount Hong quite handsome when we were younger- although I dare you to find a young lady in the ton, married or single, who did not feel the same way about him at some point. He is quite attractive but no, I do not think I ever seriously considered marrying him."

"Why not?"

"I am not sure we would have suited each other."

"But you thought I suited you?"

You looked down at Soonyoung. His cheek was pressed against the pillow and his face was flushed. It had been a long day; he was clearly struggling to stay awake and his voice was beginning to sound slurred.

"I did," you replied quietly.

"Why-why did you marry me?" he mumbled.

You took a deep breath. Frankly, you were surprised that Soonyoung had not asked you this question much, much sooner. It had quite clearly been on his mind. Stranger yet was that you dreaded being asked this question- it forced you to confront feelings that you were not sure you were ready to face.

"I-"

There was a soft snore from the pillow. You looked down in surprise- Soonyoung had fallen asleep. His mouth was still slightly open and his face flushed. You giggled and leaned down to kiss his soft cheek.

"Good night, Your Grace."

—----------------------------------------------

The first few weeks of your 'honeymoon period', as many called it, with Soonyoung were perhaps some of the happiest days you had ever spent. The Graham manor (a place that had never been a source of much happiness for you, and had become a source of misery since your father's death) was suddenly lit up by Soonyoung's mere presence.

He resolved to learn about the estate. You discovered that, despite his seeming lack of confidence, Kwon Soonyoung could do anything if he set his mind to it. There was a steely determination that seemed to overtake him when it came to matters of the estate and dukedom.

Even Mr. Johnson, the stiff and difficult-to-please estate manager, admitted to you that he was impressed with the way Soonyoung had taken charge of the dukedom.

"His Grace insisted upon meeting the peasants himself," Mr. Johnson told you in confidence. "I assumed it was a vanity trip; some of the noblemen like to lord their wealth before the commoners. But His Grace actually walked through the fields instead of taking his carriage and spoke to each of the peasants individually to understand their troubles."

You blinked in surprise. "Did my father ever do that?"

Mr. Johnson chuckled. "No. The late Duke would make the peasants travel up to the manor if they had complaints and to submit their taxes. It took them all day- and meant that they couldn't tend to the fields."

"This way is better, then."

"Personally, I think some distance between the common folk and nobility should be maintained," Mr. Johnson said stiffly. "Yet I cannot find it in me to fault His Grace's methods. The other day, he resolved a land dispute that some of the peasants have been having for years… I wish I had been there to see it, but I was not at the site. It seems he convinced them to come to a mutual settlement."

You blinked. "How?"

"I wish I knew. He mediated it himself- they have come to accept His Grace's authority even in such a short time."

You were surprised as well. As the Duchess, you were hardly disliked but it had been ingrained in you from a young age to keep your distance from the peasants and be and be wary of everyone and everything.

You were respected- but Soonyoung was beloved. He had such an amiable nature that in a matter of months, almost everyone in the duchy had fallen in love with him.

You were no exception.

From the peasants, to the villagers, to the servants at the manor… everyone agreed that the new Duke of Graham was nothing short of a bright ray of sunshine.

Soonyoung's dedication to his new role as Duke did not mean that he was any less dedicated to his role as a husband. He spent his evenings solely with you. You shared long walks in the gardens and often indulged in some wine before bed. Separate bed-chambers were not uncommon among married couples of the nobility, but you and Soonyoung had never felt the need for them.

"We shall have to return to London soon," you told him one morning over breakfast as you both perused the post. "Her Majesty has specifically asked me to join her court now that I am married, and you will need to take your place in court among the other Dukes as well…"

Soonyoung blinked at you in surprise. "Has the Queen really written to you personally?"

You bit your lip. "She has always taken a personal interest in me. My mother was quite close to the Queen; she would not have issued the decree which allowed me to keep the title otherwise. I cannot risk offending Her Majesty."

Soonyoung nodded. "Then we shall return as Her Majesty commands."

You suddenly felt anxious. "Maybe it was foolish of me, but I did not invite many Dukes and Earls to our wedding. At least not the vultures. They are certainly upset at my decision not to marry any of them, and I am worried they may be unpleasant upon our return-"

Soonyoung reached across the table and placed his hand on yours gently.

"It will be fine. We will handle it together."

You smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you, Soonyoung."

"When do we leave?"

"In two days."

—----------------------------------------------------

You were miserable as the carriage approached your London manor and you felt the familiar thickness of the city air.

The court, the ton, and the intricate politics and pettiness of elite society had never been to your taste. You were by no means bad at it. Putting on a fake smile and pandering to society was a skill you had mastered early on in life, but it gave you almost no pleasure.

You would have stayed at the estate with Soonyoung forever, if only it was possible.

"Your Grace!" the butler greeted you politely as you stepped into the familiar luxurious manor and the servants rushed to carry your belongings inside. You turned- but the butler was addressing your husband. "There are a number of letters here for you."

Soonyoung took them and frowned as he rifled.

"Letters already?" you wondered.

"I wrote ahead to some of my friends that I was returning to London," Soonyoung admitted shyly. "Mr. Kim wishes to know when I will come by the gentleman's club for a game of cards. Viscount and Viscountess Hong have invited us to a dinner party on Saturday. And this is from… who is the Duke of Kent?"

You winced. "A disgusting old fellow."

"He invites me to join him on a hunting trip tomorrow with some other gentlemen," Soonyoung replied. He looked at you sheepishly. "I… am not particularly good at hunting."

You waved a hand dismissively. "Neither is the Duke of Kent."

"I suppose I should accept his invitation then. Perhaps Mr. Yoon will give me some tips about using a shotgun beforehand…" Soonyoung muttered thoughtfully, as he walked away to find an ink and pen to answer the invitations.

You felt a strange anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

"Soonyoung…"

He paused. "Yes, dear?"

"I know I have said this before, but some of these Dukes can be very unpleasant and manipulative, and I…" you trailed off, not sure how to explain yourself.

You were worried for him. You were worried at the thought of your kind, caring husband alone with those manipulative noblemen who had decades of experience in the art of politics and under-handedness. Soonyoung's expression softened as he came back to you and leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Do not worry, Your Grace," he said gently.

"I will not be able to join you hunting, I am required to meet with the Queen tomorrow," you reminded him.

"As you must."

Soonyoung seemed more confident. Perhaps his success at managing the duchy and popularity with the peasants had left him feeling more comfortable about his position as a Duke. Yet, you could not help but feel that your husband was about to be thrown in the lion's den unprepared.

You had supper together before going to bed. As was common, the enormous London manor had separate bedrooms for the Duke and Duchess but Soonyoung always found his way to your bedroom after dark. On your first night in London, he arrived much later than usual, after you had already settled under the covers.

"I got lost," Soonyoung mumbled to you in apology as he blew out your candle and slid under the covers beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as you giggled.

"Lost, again?"

He huffed, pressing his cheek to your shoulder. "This is my first night at the London manor. It took me over a month to find my way around the manor at the estate. Now I must acquaint myself with a completely new building full of winding corridors."

You giggled. "I'll have the butler draw you a map in the morning. Good night, Your Grace."

"Good night."

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Soonyoung left for his hunting trip at dawn and you had to leave soon afterwards for your engagement with the Queen. Her Majesty received you warmly in her tea parlour with some of the other ladies-in-waiting, and her sharp eyes scanned you as soon as you had taken your seat.

"You look different, Duchess," the Queen told you bluntly.

You bowed politely. "Do I, Your Majesty?"

"Yes. Marriage suits you. I can't be the first person to have told you this. I have seen excellent young ladies destroyed by entering into the wrong marriage, and it pleases me to see that this does not seem to be the case with you. Tell me; are you happy?"

You bit your lip and nodded. "I am, Your Majesty."

"We could have found you a Prince, you know."

You smiled at her graciously. "I am very grateful, Your Majesty. But I have a responsibility to my dukedom and my title- I could not abandon my family heritage to become a Princess."

The Queen nodded and sipped her tea. One of the other court ladies- the Countess Harrison- took the opportunity to speak.

"Our dear Duchess is, as always, thinking about responsibilities that are not hers to bear," the Countess Harrison said with a titter. "Perhaps it is time you left your dukedom to the men and learned something from the other ladies about womanly responsibilities."

You sighed. You had long learned to pick your battles carefully with the court ladies.

"And what are these womanly responsibilities, Countess?" you wondered.

The Countess giggled. "Why, of course; bearing sons to continue the noble bloodline! Surely your family will not petition Her Majesty again to allow you to pass the title onto someone else, simply because you did not bear enough sons?"

"Enough sons?" you asked. You were not taking her conversation seriously at all- frankly, you were more interested in the lemon cakes being served than anything the Countess had to say.

"But of course! You must have enough sons. Children sometimes die prematurely, it is an unfortunate reality."

You stirred some sugar into your tea. "So fear of your children dying is the reason your husband has sired so many bastards? If little Jonathan should die of fever, then at least your maid's bastard son can take over the Earldom. The continuation of the noble Harrison bloodline may depend upon it," you remarked coolly.

The Countess flushed a furious shade of red. Some of the other court ladies giggled. They were no friends of yours, but they also did not have much loyalty to each other.

The Queen looked at you with a friendly twinkle in her eye.

"Now, now, Duchess. We are all delighted to see you happily married, but you must not be so mean to our Countess here," the Queen said lightly. Her tone was playful.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," you said half-heartedly.

The Queen rose. "I wish to step outside onto the balcony. Accompany me, Duchess."

It was a statement and one that silenced the other court ladies immediately. The Queen had never been shy about the fact that you were her favourite court lady. Your mother had been her close personal friend, and despite their best efforts, none of the other court ladies had been able to wriggle their way into the Queen's good books quite like your family.

You offered your arm to the Queen, who led you outside to the balcony and called for her snuffbox. Then she turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you remember what I told you when you arrived in London a few months ago- after your father's death?" the Queen asked.

You bit your lip. "Of course, Your Majesty. You told me that as a Duchess, nothing could come before my duty to the title and my dukedom, and that I would have to make my decisions carefully."

The Queen nodded. "Do you think it was sound advice?"

"I do, Your Majesty."

"Have you followed it?"

You hesitated and the Queen's sharp eyes did not miss the look on your face. She glanced back at the parlour where the court ladies were still having tea and then raised an eyebrow at you.

"I-I have tried, Your Majesty," you replied.

"Then you should have no problem telling me why you chose to put your entire family's legacy in the hands of a poor second son without a penny to his name."

You swallowed.

"Well?" the Queen asked. "Can you?"

"... I cannot."

—-------------------------------------------------------

You were drained of energy by the time you returned to the manor. The butler informed you that your husband had still not returned from his hunting trip, and that he had sent word for you to have supper without him.

You ate and went to bed but somehow, you could not sleep alone. You had become too used to Soonyoung's warm body against yours. He always tucked you in close to him with an arm around you and his soft and steady breathing was what helped you sleep. Without him, the room was too silent.

You waited for Soonyoung to return, but the clock struck midnight and he was still not back. You wrapped a robe around yourself and went downstairs.

The butler ran to you."Do you require anything, Your Grace-"

"Had the Duke still not returned from the hunting trip?" you demanded.

The butler looked confused.

"His Grace returned a few hours ago. He was tired and went straight to his bedchambers."

You blinked and nodded before dismissing the butler. Perhaps Soonyoung was too tired to risk getting lost in the manor in search of your room, and had gone to sleep in his own bedchambers. You went back upstairs and hurried to the bedchamber that you knew to be your husband’s.

You knocked on the door. "Soonyoung?"

There was no response. You turned the handle.

It was locked.

An unsettling feeling came across you. You could not think of why Soonyoung would lock the door to his bedchamber. You often had to remind him even to just close the door- he had a careless habit of leaving doors completely ajar.

There were footsteps on the stairs. Some of the servants were awake, and you decided to return to your own bedchambers instead of causing a scene.

—----------------------------------------------------

You awoke to find Soonyoung had already left the manor. The butler informed you that the Duke had gone to visit his friends Mr. Kim Mingyu and Mr. Lee Seokmin, and would be back in time to accompany you to the dinner party at Viscount Hong's.

You tried not to read too much into it. Soonyoung had lived in London for a long time, and his friends were undoubtedly eager to meet him upon his return.

You wondered if you would have had an easier time making friends if it had not been for your title.

You kept yourself occupied for most of the day with your correspondence and answering invitations that flooded in from members of the ton who had learned you were back in London. The social season was drawing to a close and there were plenty of balls and events crammed into the next week. You could not possibly attend them all, nor did you wish to.

Soonyoung finally returned in the evening. The carriage waited outside to take you both to the Viscount's home, and you smiled in relief at the sight of your husband.

"Soonyoung!" you greeted him warmly. "I did not see you last night. How did the hunting trip go?"

Soonyoung grimaced as he helped you into the carriage. "I couldn't shoot anything," he told you honestly. "But neither did the Duke of Kent so at least I was not the worst hunter there. The Viscount shot a rather plump pheasant."

"Viscount Hong was there?"

"Yes, thankfully," Soonyoung muttered. You eyed your husband anxiously as the carriage took off. He was quiet, but it was not entirely unusual for Soonyoung to sometimes be more quiet and withdrawn. He often did it when he was focusing, or thinking deeply about something.

"Did you enjoy your morning with Mr. Kim and Mr. Lee?" you asked lightly.

Soonyoung nodded. "Oh-yes."

"What did you do?"

"We only played cards and talked about how they've been during the last few months. I didn't bet much money on the cards," he added quickly.

You blinked, confused. "I am not worried about you gambling, Soonyoung."

He flushed. "Yes- of course."

The carriage arrived at the Viscount's grand manor and you both descended. Soonyoung offered you his arm and you took it.

The Viscount and Viscountess were waiting to greet you at the entrance. Viscount Hong smiled, while his wife embraced you and congratulated you and Soonyoung warmly on your marriage. They guided you to the drawing room where about ten or eleven other guests were already gathered. You saw the Earl Harrison, the Duke of Kent and some of the other unpleasant old noblemen along with their wives.

"Perhaps we should have looked more closely at the guest list before accepting this particular invitation," you mumbled to your husband. Soonyoung did not smile or agree with you. His expression was grim and he seemed uncomfortable. .

"Ah; the new Duke and Duchess of Graham!" the Earl Harrison greeted you loudly. You forced a smile. He was a disgusting man with a reputation for sleeping with his servants, and you had no respect for him.

"Earl Harrison," you replied politely.

"We had the pleasure of hunting with your husband just yesterday. Rather unfortunate that you did not enquire whether he could handle a shotgun before you married him!"

You felt Soonyoung stiffen beside you and gave the Earl a sharp look.

"I did not consider proficiency with a shotgun to be one of my primary requirements in a husband, sir," you replied coolly.

The Earl raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? Well, it leaves one to wonder…"

"Wonder what, exactly?" you demanded.

"Why you married him, of course."

You felt a burst of irritation. You were normally much better at controlling your anger and keeping calm, but the Earl's snide remarks about Soonyoung wound you up more than they should have. Your jaw clenched but before you could respond, the Viscount and Viscountess inserted themselves into the conversation.

"Earl Harrison!" the Viscountess said with a kind smile. "You must allow the Viscount to show you his new hunting rifles in the gallery. Perhaps you would be interested as well, Your Grace?"

You were furious but the Viscountess was the master of smoothing things over. She quickly ushered the gentlemen into the gallery to look at the rifles, and then took your arm and pulled you aside.

"Are you all right?" the Viscountess asked you gently.

You nodded. "Thank you."

She sighed. "I am afraid Earl Harrison forcefully wrested an invitation to tonight's dinner from Joshua yesterday. I did not want to invite him at all, especially after I heard what he was saying about you and the Duke during the hunting trip."

You stiffened. "What has he been saying about myself and the Duke?"

The Viscountess looked upset. "Nothing of any substance, only some nasty remarks about why you might have married the Duke. It's all baseless, really, everyone knows that-"

"Has he been saying these things in front of the Duke?"

The Viscountess bit her lip. "I do not know."

"I want to know what he is saying."

She sighed. "I am really not sure that you do…"

The Viscountess was a lovely woman, and the last thing you wanted was to create a scene in her home. But you were angry; you needed to know what this foolish Earl was running his mouth about. You had tolerated his insults long enough, and you would not allow him to insult your husband as well.

You went into the gallery where a number of gentlemen were gathered looking at the Viscount's new hunting rifles. Earl Harrison was standing a short distance away and talking to the Duke of Kent. He made no attempt to even lower his voice.

"-women have too much power these days, I tell you. Outrageous that the Duchess should have been given a title at all. That calculating wench knew that if she married one of us, she would be put in her rightful place immediately. So what does she do? Marries a poor man without connections or a fortune so that she can control him like a puppet!"

The Duke of Kent laughed. "Naturally, naturally. She wanted a young man she could keep under her thumb. The poor Duke does not realise she is emasculating him entirely. Pathetic excuse for a man."

You saw red.

How dare they? How dare these disgusting men stand there and say these vile things about you and your husband in public? Had they said similar things within earshot of Soonyoung?The thought made your blood boil

"Would you like to repeat that so that I can be sure what you are saying?" you demanded loudly.

The room fell silent. All conversation ceased.

Soonyoung and the Viscount Hong were standing a few feet away, and you saw your husband watching you with wide eyes.

"W-what?" Earl Harrison sputtered.

"I asked if you would like to repeat yourself," you said coldly. "Surely I must have misheard you. Surely you could not have been standing here and openly insulting the Duke and Duchess of Graham, who outrank you in every possible way. That would be a very foolish thing to do, don't you agree?"

The Duke of Kent smiled abominably. "My dear Duchess, you must not go into hysterics-"

"Then perhaps your and the Earl should avoid giving me reason to go into hysterics, Your Grace. Or have you forgotten who is the Queen's close confidante? Who receives letters and invitations to tea from Her Majesty personally? Allow me to refresh your memory, Earl Harrison. It is certainly not you or your stupid wife."

The Earl paled. "I have never had a woman dare to speak to me this way-'

"You do not want to make an enemy of me, Earl Harrison. I will not waste my time with backhanded gossip and failed petitions to the Crown. One word from me can persuade Her Majesty to strip you of your entire title and estate in a heartbeat. I will undo your generations-long lineage in an instant. Do not test me."

The Duke of Kent frowned. "That is quite enough!"

"I agree," you replied sharply. "I have had quite enough. My husband is a hundred times the man you will ever be, and the next time you worry about anyone being emasculated, you would do well to remember that a woman is in charge of the Crown and your life."

Soonyoung was staring at you with wide eyes, as you walked over to him and took his arm.

"We are leaving," you said firmly. The rest of the room watched in stunned silence. "I apologise for the intrusion, Viscount and Viscountess Hong. Thank you for your hospitality."

You took your husband's arm and walked out.

—----------------------------------------------

Soonyoung said nothing in the carriage ride home.

You could not speak either; the adrenaline was still pumping in your veins. You had never addressed anyone in that manner, much less an Earl and a Duke. They had said worse things about you in the past, you were sure, and it had not made you angry. But the idea of them saying these things about Soonyoung made your blood boil.

"Perhaps we should go to bed early," Soonyoung mumbled as he left straight for his bedchambers. You had never seen him look so tired and withdrawn.

You followed him upstairs to his bedchamber and called out to him just as he was about to slip inside and close the door behind him.

"Soonyoung, wait."

"I'm tired-"

"Please don't close the door."

There was a long pause and he finally opened the door again, allowing you inside. You took a deep breath and entered, sitting on the edge of his bed as you thought about what to say to him. Soonyoung stood patiently near the door and watched you for a long moment before finally speaking.

"It's all right," he said quietly. "You don't need to worry, Your Grace."

You blinked at him. "What?"

"I knew this was a marriage of convenience. You were always honest with me. I would be a fool if I resented you for it just because some Earl said it aloud. I knew perfectly well what this marriage was when I agreed to it."

Your heart dropped.

"Soonyoung, no-"

"I know you were in a difficult position, and you needed to marry someone who would not dare to exercise power over you or the dukedom. It is a rational decision to make."

Your throat felt tight.

"Don't call it that-"

"I am saying it is perfectly understandable and rational-"

"But it's not!" you cried. You rose and stood in front of him, grabbing his cold hands. For some reason you suddenly, desperately needed Soonyoung to understand what you were telling him. "Rational? Choosing you was not a rational decision, Soonyoung. Far from it; it was possibly the least rational thing I have ever done in my life."

Soonyoung's hands were limp in yours but his dark eyes flashed.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

You took a deep breath and looked up at your husband. You had not expected to open up to him, or to reveal your vulnerabilities to him tonight, but it was now or never.

"It was an impulse, pure impulse. I was so tired of always doing the right thing, the expected thing. If I was being rational then I would have married a Baron or a Lord. Heaven knows there are plenty of them to be had."

Soonyoung was quiet. "Why didn't you?'

"The night we met- at the ball when we danced- I know it was only a few moments but you made me smile. I felt happy with you. For the first time in my life, I felt something that wasn’t just duty or obligation or responsibility. I felt like this nightmare of a life might be bearable if I could share it with someone like you," you confessed quietly.

Soonyoung's expression had softened and his dark eyes looked down at you with a sudden gentleness and vulnerability.

"But we hardly knew each other-"

"Which is why it wasn't a rational or calculated decision. The decision to marry you wasn't made for the good of the dukedom or the title. I made it for the most selfish of reasons- my own happiness. It was worse than irrational. It was a rebellion against everything my father expected from me."

Soonyoung's lower lip trembled. "You must have regretted it, then."

"I thought I might," you admitted shakily. "For the first few weeks after I proposed to you, I was terrified that I was making a mistake. But Soonyoung… you never gave me a single chance to regret it. At every turn, you only showed me, over and over again, that I made the right choice."

"Do you mean that?"

You lifted your hand to cup his cheek.

"I love you," you told him firmly and honestly.

Soonyoung kissed you. It was a soft, gentle, loving kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you into his warm embrace. You gasped against his lips and he slowly pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours.

"I love you too," he whispered.

Your heart swelled with happiness. "Do you mean it?" you asked him softly. "Just moments ago, you were calling this a marriage of convenience-"

Soonyoung's lips curved into a smile as he cupped your cheeks.

"Because I thought you felt that way. How could I not love you? You are a divine angel that came into my life. Some days I wake up and look at you beside me and think that I must be in some kind of dream, because I don't know what I did to deserve your love and trust."

Your lower lip trembled. "That's not true-"

"It is. I love you."

You wrapped your arms around his neck tightly and buried your face into his shoulders. Soonyoung embraced you and you breathed in your husband's warm, familiar scent.

"Then don't ever close that door again."”

"I won't," he promised. "I won't."

—------------------------------------------------------

#kicking both my feet around #punching the air #giggling the fucc out #WTF #I LOVE THIS SOO MUCHH #WHY THIS HAS TO END

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adventureofblue · 1 year

Text

regular ascot-loving-mystery-solving family

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adventureofblue · 1 year

Text

you’re not for everyone. so what. literally so what. you still have people who will always love you & whom you mean the world to. and you also have yourself. you’re not missing out, they are

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adventureofblue · 1 year

Text

Nameless

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synopsis: Perhaps you were both fonder of one another than you thought - it only took one night in the city founded on two forbidden lovers for the two of you to realize.

Alternatively, Romeo and Juliet, but make it ATLA :P

Genre: Fluff, crack, some angst, atla!au, Of Flames and Fate!couple, firebender!wonwoo (he bends blue fire!!!), bounty hunter!wonwoo, former general!wonwoo, waterbender!reader, southern water tribe princess!reader, earthbender!jeonghan, old man!jeonghan (jeonghan is oc’s caretaker), my cabbages guy!mingyu, they’re in Omashu

Warnings: Mentions of war/weapons/violence, profanity, food, injury with a cabbage cart, one sexual innuendo at the end, unedited (I wrote most of this at like 3AM 😭💀 I will go back and fix this so it flows better some day–)

WC: ~6k

A/N: For my biggest firebender!wonwoo agenda supporter, @wisteria-woo . She be knew from the beginning ✊

Loosely inspired by ATLA, Love Between Fairy and Devil, and Hotarubi no Mori e.

read the original drabble here :)

. . . .

The screen door slid open abruptly, the bright light of the morning sun spilling into the small room, taking Wonwoo by surprise. A basket of damp clothes in hand, you grumpily pushed past Wonwoo, without a care for the firebender. You bumped his shoulder roughly on your way inside, though it was hard to tell if it was purposeful or out of ignorance. The young man watched you curiously for a moment as you lugged the heavy hamper towards the backdoor.

He figured you must’ve gone to the Common to do laundry at the fountain today and were just making your way back to hang the clothes in the courtyard of the hostel. Wonwoo did find it strange, however; you usually never went to town on your own without him (Jeonghan’s rules – not that he always wanted to nor did he mind these days) and as of late, he had been attempting to be more helpful – washing clothes being one of them.

That said, it was clear to him that you were bitter today – and Wonwoo had an inkling as to why.

Rushing to your side as you stepped over the threshold and onto the porch, he lifted the basket from the bottom to take some of the weight off your shoulders. Immediately, you stopped in your tracks and shot him a scowl.

“Can I help?” he offered you a small smile.

You only scoffed, though not refusing his help. You let go of your side, Wonwoo nearly stumbling forward with the additional weight.

Quietly, the two of you picked the damp clothing and flung them over the free space along one of the wires towards the end of the courtyard. Despite pretending to be interested in the worn beige blanket he had just pinned up, Wonwoo watched you carefully out of the corner of his eye. You were rather efficient today; like a robot only programmed to move from the drying line to the basket, furiously shaking out the clothes and blankets and clipping them to the wire. Your usual gentle and bright expression was replaced with a hardened look, the space between your brows creased. It worried Wonwoo that if you kept scowling for that long, your face might get stuck like that.

Admittedly, it wasn’t a cute look on you.

Silence ensued – only the slight breeze rustling the leaves of the tree overhanging the hostel and the occasional chirp of spring birds in the distance. The hostel was empty for the most part – the innkeeper and his wife were busy at the front calculating last night’s profits and cooking lunch. Most travelers had already taken off in the early hours of dawn and the few guests who extended their stay seemed to have business elsewhere during the day.

When enough was enough, Wonwoo parted an opening past what he thought was Jeonghan’s trousers and one of your overshirts, invading your side of the barrier.

“Can you at least acknowledge my existence?” Wonwoo asked.

Face still stoic, you slumped your shoulders and let out a long, heavy breath.

“Good morning, Wonwoo,” you said monotonously before marching off to your chore.

“You’re still upset,” he noted.

“And what’s it to you, bounty hunter?” you shot back.

“It’s just a silly festival –”

“Stop.”

Your face hardened as you continued to stare at him. As the seconds pass, the corner of your lips downturned into a tight frown, the rage from yesterday clearly still fresh in your heart.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried, leaning over the table, nearly knocking over your bowl of soup. It was fortunate Jeonghan was sitting next to you, the elder earthbender having impeccable reflexes for his age. His hand flew up immediately to slide the bowl back towards the center, sending you a warning look.

While entering Omashu today, Wonwoo had noted the decorations going up around town. The marketplace was bustling, with several merchants selling rich fabric, gold-encrusted pendants, and treats – a rare sight for such exquisite and exclusive items to be sold in such a place. In particular, Wonwoo had noticed the massive array of animal masks hanging in various stalls, some clearly representing animals in the surrounding area, others more artistic and painted with bright shades of blues and reds.

When he had asked about it, Jeonghan had explained the city was preparing for the Festival of the Badger Moles: an annual celebration of the birth of earthbending. Traditionally, people wore masks of the badger mole, but for the sake of festivities, within recent decades it has extended to other animals as well – mostly worn by children. There would be steam carts, live music, dancing, and goods being sold.

To you, however, the Festival of the Badger Moles was merely a legend Jeonghan would tell you stories about for the both of you were never in Omashu whenever it happened. With the nature of Jeonghan’s profession as a freelance welder, the two of you moved around frequently. This would be the first time you were in the city during the festivities and you were eager to experience it.

Though . . . that came Jeonghan’s condition that Wonwoo had to go with you.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Wonwoo shrank back at your suggestion.

“Why not?” you pouted. “It’ll be a nice break from . . . everything. Time to breathe.”

“It’s . . . dangerous to be around a person like me,” Wonwoo tried to explain.

“You’re with us, right now?” you frowned, not quite understanding where he was coming from.

“No,” Wonwoo huffed in frustration. “Like out in public – in the masses. If you forgot,” he peered around to check for any listening ears and leaned in closer, lowering his volume. “I’m a bounty hunter, discarded son of the Fire Nation general . . . I’m a wanted man.”

You sat back on your heels, finally starting to understand – though, there was a tinge of selfishness in you that night.

“We’ll be wearing masks?” you tried.

Wonwoo only shook his head firmly. “It’s not safe – for me and you.”

You nodded in disappointment, though moments later turning to Jeonghan excitedly, a new compromise on the tip of your tongue.

“No,” Jeonghan shot you down before you could even try. His tone was harsh, but his expression was serene as he sipped on his soup.

“But–”

“My condition was that you’d go with Wonwoo, but Wonwoo doesn’t want to go,” Jeonghan laid out his rationale. “End of discussion.”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo tried. He took a step closer to you, but you took another one back.

“It might just be a silly festival to you, but it’s important to me,” you muttered. You inhaled sharply and squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “I don’t expect anyone to understand, but it’s whatever,” you waved him off. “I know, Wonwoo – I understand. I’m just . . . upset at the situation, not at you.”

Wonwoo’s footing stuttered again as he extended a hand towards you. He was quick to stop in his tracks, his long fingers curling into a fist. His arm hung in the air a moment longer before he drew it to his side, muttering a quiet apology.

“I just need some space for now,” you mumbled, taking your leave.

There it was again: the sudden urge to chase after you and pull you into an embrace and comfort you. The look of disappointment etching into your features made his heart ache because he knew none of this was your fault, yet you silently suffered the brunt of it. You were kind and carefree – admittedly a little naive at times, but your intentions were good. It was unfortunate out of all people, it had to be you. He only complicated the situation.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure when he grew soft for you, but before he knew it, he was.

However, he knew better than to grow attached.

You were the hidden daughter of the Southern Water Tribe Chief.

He was the renounced son of the Fire Nation General – without a country and title. He was basically demoted to a righteous nomad at best.

At least, nomads had a group of people to call home.

Your lives weren’t supposed to cross; they were meant to run in parallel. Only this once where you needed one another would fate allow it for what seemed like a second in the infinite stream of time.

. . . .

You couldn’t sleep well that night.

You tossed and turned, the mat suddenly seemingly too thin and your mid-back ached from the floor boards. The early summer breeze whistled too loudly through the slits of the walls and did nothing to calm the sweltering heat of your room. It especially didn’t help that you could hear the festivities from the city – the occasional outburst of giggles of groups of girls passing by the inn, sparklers crackling in the distance.

Giving into every little thing making you miserable tonight, you threw off your covers and pushed yourself up in bed and leaned against the wall between yours and Wonwoo and Jeonghan’s room. You twisted the base of your lamp, the flame inside flicking on instantly as you let out a long breath and rested your head up against the wall.

It could’ve been you out there tonight.

Alas, society had bigger plans for you, in which you couldn’t even enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

It wasn’t always like this.

In fact, it was only a few weeks ago when life was still simple: metalworker Jeonghan and his clumsy kid apprentice against the world – or more precisely, most of the Earth Nation. There just happened to be a quiet, but emotional, young man who followed the two of you around for a bit.

You had yet to see the world.

Though it was mundane, on days like this, you preferred it that way.

There was no title of “chief’s long-lost daughter” or “princess” hanging over your head like a market sign painted red; no need to second guess everything you said or did in fear of revealing who you were. You kept your lips sealed and your thoughts locked away in your heart.

The scariest part?

A heavy thud outside your window startled you from your late night musing – it almost sounded like someone threw a sack of potatoes on the wooden porch leading into your quarters. Your thoughts and unanswered questions long forgotten, you spun around to face the screen door and reached for your dagger in the wool knapsack at the foot of your bed.

A silhouette of a man crouched on his knees fanned across your screen door. Jeonghan was always cautious. From a young age, he trained you for moments like this – “surprises” he called them, but not the good kind. How to attack, signals to send if he wasn’t there, where to meet him if they parted ways, etc.

Though you knew it was for your own safety, not until recently, did it occur to you that it was because Jeonghan’s mission was to keep you alive as the Southern Water Tribe chief’s daughter. You begged to differ, but some viewed your life more worthy of gold than others.

Just as you were about to knock against the wall to signal to Wonwoo and Jeonghan, the figure moved swiftly. The door slid open, his figure a blur. You blinked and Wonwoo was in front of you, one finger against his thin lips, and the other resting atop yours that was wrapped around the dagger.

“Wonwoo?” you whispered, your heart sank. Relieved, you sat back on your heels.

“Keep quiet,” he replied. He turned slightly to the room next door.

“You scared me!”

He smiled sheepishly. Realizing just how close the two of you were, he shuffled back to create some space.

“Sorry.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, eyes scanning his figure. His hair was matted against forehead, his usual form-fitting faded red suit and threadbare brown cloak traded for something a little more . . . familiar. “In Jeonghan’s clothes?”

You stared at him incredulously, the pitch of your voice going up with the end of the question.

Wonwoo peered down at his (or rather Jeonghan’s) outfit, a beige undershirt and loose green vest, and tugged at the front.

“Looks classy, doesn’t it?” he asked cheesily.

You scoffed and looked away.

“I don’t want to waste any time since it’s already late so I’ll cut to it,” Wonwoo stood up, his long legs stretching high above you. Extending a hand in your direction, he tilted his head coyly and smirked. “Wanna go to town with me? For a silly festival?”

. . . .

Despite the festival being half over, Wonwoo had insisted on both of you wearing masks – for safety of your collective identities, of course, not for childish celebratory reasons.

What would society think of the Southern Water Tribe princess running wild with the former lieutenant general of the Fire Nation military?

With the few coins in your silk pouch, you had hastily bought two at the first stall along the dirt road that came into view as you arrived in town: a white fox antelope one with red whiskers for him and a classic brown black badger mole one for you.

Admittedly, however, it was probably a bad decision on Wonwoo’s part as you were impossible to keep track of. The design of your mask was rather unoriginal – it seemed as if every other person was wearing the same one. Not to mention, the straps of his own were thin and slippery, the knot undoing itself in the all the commotion of trying to keep up with you.

You happily bounced from stall to stall in the marketplace, refusing to buy anything since you only had a few coins left, but mouth watering over steam buns and your eyes were wide with desire at colorful silk fabrics – the dye a rare deep shade of green. Over the drums and shouts, He thought he heard you muttering something about it being nice for making a new coat for Jeonghan.

It was cute, but tiresome. Wonwoo wasn’t sure how you had so much energy at such hours of the night. Then again, you had been waiting for this moment your entire life it seemed.

You had taken off again and disappeared into the crowd, just as Wonwoo felt his fox antelope mask slipping off for what felt like the tenth time in the last hour. Annoyed, he pulled it off, holding it by the tails of the ties and ran in the same general direction he had seen you go. He whipped his head back and forth, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of you. The streak of white in your hair that framed your face was hard to miss most days, but you had tucked it all into a bun and again, that damn badger mole mask.

He grew anxious the longer he couldn’t find you. Each minute that passed meant another meter between him and you. Each meter made it harder to protect you if anything happened. Indeed you were supposedly destined to be a power waterbender, but currently, you were a very bad one. Your powers had been suppressed until recently and even then, you lacked the right scrolls and a competent instructor to harness your abilities to your best potential. Jeonghan shouting, "It's okay – just try again!" was rather not ideal.

Just as he was about to lose it, heat coursing down his arms, threatening to set the square aflame to just clear a way to find you, someone's hands wrap around his wrist. Wonwoo wondered just what beggar had the audacity to bother him now when he was busy.

Turning around furiously, a short but impactful (and loud) lecture prepared on the tip of his tongue, he was met with a person in a badger mole mask. This couldn’t quell his worry nonetheless – he had a fifty-fifty chance it could’ve been you or some annoying kid who lost their parents.

“Wonwoo?” the familiar sound of your voice echoed through the mask. You lifted it to get a better look at him. The sight of your plush lips, immediately bringing him relief. “Why aren’t you – oh!”

The firebender quickly pulled you into a tight hug. His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a breath against the exposed skin between your shoulder and your neck. Goosebumps rose along your spine at the gesture and you stiffened, too stunned to speak. Wonwoo never initiated skinship with you, let alone attempted to get close to you physically and emotionally. During dinner, he always made a point to sit across the table. If you were camping out in the forest, you both slept on either side of Jeonghan. When conversations got too deep into his past, his replies grew curt or he’d politely ask you to change the subject.

When walking up to him earlier, he seemed frazzled . . . maybe he was claustrophobic? Slowly and awkwardly, you raised a hand to pat his back in an effort to comfort him. You tried to look at him to get a better gauge of his mood to no avail.

“Hey,” you said softly in his ear. “You okay?”

Immediately, Wonwoo separated from you and pulled his arms back to his side. That seemed to have been effective enough to stun him back into reality. You noted how his fox antelope mask is sitting in his hand rather than on his face.

“Wonwoo?” you tried again. You took a step towards him.

For the third time tonight, Wonwoo took you by surprise again. He reached for your hand, slipping his fingers in between your own and giving you a tight squeeze. His touch full of affection and reassurance, but his surly expression suggested otherwise.

“Don’t do that again,” he said harshly. He was quick to change his tone when he noticed the frown forming on your face, however. “Just . . . running off and around. I don’t want to hold you back tonight, but I just need to be able to be close to you in case anything happens. Okay?”

You nodded, mumbling a small apology.

“I-I’m sorry for startling you,” Wonwoo stuttered in reply. He wasn’t used to apologizing, let alone for something so seemingly miniscule. “I was just . . . worried.”

It was out of concern, duty, and promise to Jeonghan, yet there was something about the way he held your hand and the tone of his voice that made your heart skip a beat when it shouldn’t have. Your face grew warm realizing he was still holding your hand. You wondered if he could feel the slick of your sweat forming on your palms.

A beat passed with bated breaths, the moment seemed to last an hour though it was fleeting for the life of the party that surrounded the both of you.

Realizing that he was still holding on, you quickly found an excuse to pull your hand away from him. It was nerve-wracking and not good for your heart.

“Let me help you with your mask,” you announced. You peered up at him briefly, offering him a tight smile, then reaching down to take it from him.

Wonwoo complied, nodding slowly and leaned over so you would have better access to his face. You didn’t expect him to come so close; you shrank back on instinct, eyes instantly flying to his lips sitting fingers-width away from yours. You silently scolded yourself for having such a reaction – letting your mind go there. Unconsciously pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you lifted the mask to his face, making sure the parts aligned with his face. Your hands reached behind and twisted the strings together. Without much choice, your fingers carded through his hair as you tied off the bow, the tips of his hairs at the nape of his neck grazing against your skin.

“Done,” you announced as you tightened the knot.

He whispered a soft ‘thank you’ and stood up straight again. He reached over and pulled down your badger mole mask over your face. Though you couldn’t see his eyes through his mask, you’d like to imagine his eyes were narrowed in concentration as he adjusted it to better fit your face.

“Shall we?” Wonwoo extended his hand once more.

Your eyes flickered to his hand and then back to him; silently wondering if he was sure about all this hand holding thing.

As if he read your mind, he chuckled heartily and grabbed your hand. He didn’t say anything else; Wonwoo just turned around and gave you a sight tug, urging you to start walking next to him. Your footing stuttered a bit, knocking into his back slightly. You were quick to straighten yourself out and regain your footing to walk properly again.

This wasn’t the night at the Festival of the Badger Moles you were expecting – it was better (though you’d never voice that aloud).

. . . .

“You should wear this one,” Wonwoo said, gently shaking your interlocked hands.

You spun around from the display you were looking at to see him holding a gold encrusted pin with a jade crystal at the end. It was simple, but elegant. He handed it over to you, the accessory much heavier than you expected as you turned it in your palm.

You shook your head. “It’s nice, but I can’t.” You handed it back to him to place it back where he got it from.

“Why not?” he asked.

“It looks expensive,” you chortled. You leaned over and gestured for him to come closer. In a hushed voice you mumbled, “Let alone, would it make sense for a water tribe girl to be wearing a treasured piece from the Earth Kingdom?”

“Nonsense,” Wonwoo insisted. He lifted the pin into the air and admired it himself, a fleeting thought in his mind of how nice it would look in your hair. “You’re basically an Earth Kingdom citizen with how long you’ve lived with Jeonghan.”

“No,” you waved him off. You were growing uncomfortable, your eyes darting to find another attraction to attend to. You spotted a cart of steam buns and took a few steps away from Wonwoo. “C’mon, let’s go get some food.”

Wonwoo pulled you back and slipped the pin into your bun. He was glad you secured the fox antelope mask well. For once, he didn’t have to hold back the stupid grin on his face that seemed to only be reserved for you. He could only imagine how nicely it complimented your complexion. The decoration was subtle, but when the flames of the torch crackled when the heat became too much, the jade glowed prettily and illuminated the gold handle.

He wondered what it would look like under his blue flame.

“Wear it for me then?” Wonwoo asked.

As the minutes ticked by, the longer your hands were interlocked, the deeper you went into the city, the more your masks didn’t seem to be for the sake of privacy and safety, but to shield the feelings that painted both of your faces that neither of you could hold back that night.

Surprise, embarrassment, nervousness, happiness . . . what did these feelings mean altogether?

His words were apparent, yet seemingly cryptic. Each simple gesture and small request felt exponential.

By no means was he getting on one knee and asking you to marry him, but wearing a hairpin by his request felt burdensome – a promise that couldn’t be kept.

Once you left here, you weren’t simply a girl who roamed the Earth Kingdom anymore, but the Southern Water Tribe princess.

When you didn’t reply, Wonwoo plucked it out of your hair and handed it to the stall owner. He pulled out a few coins to pay for it.

“Wonwoo!” you exclaimed, a hand outstretched to stop the exchange from happening. The elderly woman running the shop halted and looked from Wonwoo to you, then to Wonwoo again.

“It’s okay, I’d like to buy it,” Wonwoo explained. When the woman handed it back, Wonwoo perched it in your hair again. “At least for tonight, wear it. It makes it easier to keep track of you.”

Your shoulders slumped over, your heart slowing down for the first time tonight.

So . . . it wasn’t out of affection. Bold of you to think it was.

“I’ll give it back at the end of the night,” you muttered awkwardly.

“No need,” he chirped as you crossed the street.

“But–”

“Consider it a souvenir,” he explained matter-of-factly, though little did you know there was a gentle smile dancing on his lips behind the mask. “A keepsake from a firebender you once knew.”

It was only in the Earth Kingdom where Wonwoo and you could exist just as you are and together after all.

Simply, a firebender and a waterbender.

. . . .

You were a waterbender by birth, but an earthbender by heart.

Wonwoo came to this conclusion as he stood to the side and watched you dance happily with the little boy in the town square. Stepping to the beat of the drums, you held onto the skirt of your tunic and placed your palm gently against the little boy and the two of you stepped counterclockwise. Though there was a lightness to your step, the way you moved your limbs were stiff and poignant, contrary to the fluidity of other waterbenders he has met.

Had he met you under different circumstances, he would’ve never guessed you were one. It must’ve been from years of watching and combat training with Jeonghan, he figured.

As the symbols clanged together, announcing the end of song, you bid the little boy goodbye. Giggling, you ran over to Wonwoo and took him by the crook of his arm and dragged him towards the center.

“Join me,” you told him.

“Y/N, I can’t – I don’t know this routine,” Wonwoo protested. He pulled his arm back, though you didn’t let go.

“It’s simple,” you declared, “I’ll teach you.”

Wonwoo stood stiff and unmoving, pausing. The drum master began to beat his mallet against the canvas of the instrument again, announcing the next song again. You didn’t seem to be in a rush, however. You pulled him closer to the edge of the dance floor, undoing the knot of your mask and pulling it off to reveal shining, hopeful eyes.

“Never heard of a firebender who can’t dance,” you teased.

His eyebrow quirked, shocked that you even remembered.

“If earthbending is about listening to your opponent, firebending is like dancing with the enemy,” Wonwoo explained as he stood next to you, angrily staring at the river – as if you stared hard enough, you could lift a droplet. It was shortly after Jeonghan had revealed the truth of your identity. Though there was still an element of disbelief, part of you wanted to put his word to the test.

“Don’t you have anything you could compare waterbending to?” Wonwoo asked.

“Not when I’ve never met another waterbender,” you grumbled.

“Is that a challenge, princess?” Wonwoo asked in a low voice.

You smirked and took two steps back. Following the other women in the crowd, you curtsied towards Wonwoo and extended a hand for him to take.

And he accepted.

Facing the opposite direction, you stepped in line with him. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you circled around each other, following the rhythm of the song.

Two steps away, then three steps toward each other. You reached for Wonwoo’s hand, gently settling it in the small of your back in preparation for a spin.

Like a light of a flame, however, the firebender seemed to have other plans.

He pulled you close until your chests were flushed. He leaned in, trying to better see you through the slits of the mask. It was a full moon tonight – he could see the pearl-like orb reflecting off the corners of your own eyes. There was confusion, perhaps fear as well, that glistened in your wide gaze.

Wonwoo didn’t like the way the mask limited his view. Without a thought, he tugged one end of the bow you secured earlier and the mask clattered to the concrete beside the both of you. A sense of satisfaction filled his chest, knowing that tonight, there was nothing in between him and you.

His eyes traced along the bridge of your nose and rested on your plush lips that were held agape. Reaching up, he slowly traced your bottom lip with his thumb, then tapering off to the corner and following the curve of your cheeks.

He smiled – they were warm like his own.

Wonwoo felt the press of your hand against his chest, your throat bobbing up as you swallowed harshly.

“It’s your turn to spin,” you stammered.

He didn’t seem to be listening, mesmerized by something else – or rather someone, though you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Wonwoo wasn’t holding on very tightly to you; rather, it was more of you who let yourself stay within his embrace, unwavering. When the flute reached its climactic note, you pushed him roughly and stepped away.

He was supposed to twirl in the opposite direction, but his position was less than optimal for the move. His feet stumbled over one another and he sailed backwards as he started losing his center of gravity.

The music ceased as everyone watched on in terror.

There was a sickening crack of a crate, but thankfully, the landing was cushioned. Wonwoo wasn't sure by what, but it was better than landing on the concrete.

"My cabbages!" a husky voice shrieked behind him. It was followed by a string of cursing. Wonwoo could make out the sound of your laughter nearby.

He peeled open his eyes to find himself amidst a pile of wood and well, cabbages.

That would make sense. Cabbage were dense enough to hold his weight, but still soft enough to land a blow.

Wonwoo was rubbing the back of his neck when you suddenly came jogging over and grabbed his wrist.

"Run!" you hissed at him. A grin graced your face, tears from laughter steaming in the corner of your eyes.

For the first time in a long time, Wonwoo was happy.

. . . .

“Try it – they’re tasty,” you explained. You handed him the skewer with the last candied fruit.

He stared at it suspiciously to tease you, before peering up at you again.

“Try,” you giggled, pushing his hand towards his mouth.

After the cabbage cart accident, the two of you had decided to call it a night, purchasing some late night snacks at the edge of the festival and seeking refuge on a hill that oversaw the city. Though the celebration had come to an end, neither of you wanted to go back to the hostel just yet, hoping to hold onto the last few pieces of freedom and whatever was blooming between him and you.

Since then the teasing and the laughter hadn’t stopped; Wonwoo even found himself chuckling along every now and then. The jokes cracked weren’t even funny, perhaps it was the sugar from all the candied fruit you bought, but at some point neither of you really knew what you were laughing about.

Without knowing it, you both were running on giddiness, and just maybe, love.

If Wonwoo could describe it, it was that same fluttery happiness and breathtaking feeling he had when he was seven and had a crush on his friend. She was a blurry memory, he couldn’t even remember what she looked like, but the emotions associated with her were timeless.

“Thank you.”

Wonwoo looked up to find you settling against the root of the tree next to him. You let out a long breath and rested your head against his shoulder. As if it was already second nature, Wonwoo shifted to better accommodate you and lifted his arm to wrap around your shoulder. You snuggled into his hold, molding yourself into his side.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replied. He pressed his lips into your temple. You tensed at the act, though quick to relax, eyes fluttering shut.

“What are you thanking me for?” you mumbled. “You’re the one who snuck me out.”

Wonwoo hummed softly and looked off into the distance. The torches and lanterns around Omashu made it glow gold, reminding him of the hairpin in your bun. The mailing system was even lined with colorful fabric, he could see. If he was quiet enough, he could still hear the lingering slivers of children shouting and hearty laughters in the distance.

“Just . . . because,” Wonwoo replied. He paused. “I’m happy.”

He felt you snaking your arms around his waist, hands clasping together at his hip.

“Can we just stay like this for a while?” you asked, lazily. “Happy?”

Closing his own eyes, he gave your shoulder a squeeze of reassurance. He relaxed against the tree and huffed.

“Just for a little while.”

. . . .

Bonus:

“A little while” turned into the rest of the evening into the early morning.

You woke first with sun shining through the leaves of the oak tree hanging overhead and blinding your sleepy vision. As you returned to reality, the birds chirping and shouts from the marketplace entering your ears, you slowly started to realize your current predicament.

Wonwoo and you snuck out.

Wonwoo and you spent the whole night together.

Wonwoo and you fell asleep on the hill.

Wonwoo and you didn’t go home.

Jeonghan.

The two of you were so screwed.

“Wonwoo!” you shook the said male, “Wonwoo! Wake up!”

He groaned, raising his limbs to stretch over his head, though his eyes remained sealed shut.

“Wonwoo, we have to go,” you urged, “Jeonghan’s gonna murder us!”

It seemed as if the elderly earthbender’s named held some sort of deadly edge to it as Wonwoo’s eyes shot open and he too began scrambling.

“Not a word about this to Jeonghan,” you warned him as you laced your hands together and took off in a run. “I’m never hearing the end of it if he knew I spent the night with you.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing?” Wonwoo teased.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

. . . .

“So,” Jeonghan stroked his beard. He paced back and forth in his and Wonwoo’s quarters while the two of you kneeled before him in apology. “You’re telling me that you woke up at the crack of dawn to go to town for soup ingredients, but you forgot your money pouch?”

“Yes,” you replied curtly. You nodded once, keeping your eyes trained on the floorboard.

“Interesting,” Jeonghan noted and turned to Wonwoo. “You don’t have anything to add, Mr. General?”

“I do not, sir,” Wonwoo answered.

Jeonghan whipped out his wooden cane and pointed it in between your eyes. You startled, though you remained in your kneeling position. In the corner of your eye, you could see that Wonwoo was looking on anxiously. Jeonghan never resorted to corporal punishment with you . . . he wouldn’t now right?

Jeonghan extended his cane a little further and poked at your hip, causing a jingling sound.

Not of bells that decorated your outfit, but rather . . . coins.

“Your pouch is full of money here,” Jeonghan said matter-of-factly.

“Uh, she didn’t have enough,” Wonwoo added.

Jeonghan cocked an eyebrow at the younger man and walked over, poking his hip as well. “And you didn’t think of lending her some? Also, why are you wearing my clothes? I admit, my sense of fashion is impeccable, but flame boy, this doesn’t really suit you.”

The both of you were running out of excuses as Jeonghan waited for a response. Per usual, it didn’t take much for you to crack under Jeonghan’s pressure – even when it was your idea to lie to him that Wonwoo and you went to town in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Jeonghan!” you exclaimed. Your forehead was planted on the ground now. “Wonwoo and I went to the festival without telling you and then we fell asleep on the way home and are just coming home now. I’m sorry!”

There was a long pause before Jeonghan answered, or rather, he laughed at you.

Slowly, you sat up, confused. Wonwoo looked equally as puzzled.

The old man was hacking up a cough now, clutching his stomach in humor.

“D-did I miss something?” you sank back on your heels.

“No, silly girl!” Jeonghan managed to say in between breaths. He did his best to quell his laugh, though his shoulders still bounced happily. Wiping the corners of his eyes, he continued, “I told you were allowed to go if Wonwoo agreed to go with you, didn’t I? I was just pulling at your leg when I made you kneel.”

“Yoon Jeonghan,” you growled, preparing to launch yourself at the old man.

Just as he was about to step out of the room, Jeonghan quickly added, “That said, neither of you are still allowed to sleep with each other as long as I am alive. I’ve never been a third wheel in my life and I’m certainly not starting now.”

"Hey!"

"Yah!"

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adventureofblue · 1 year

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the crushing guilt of being unproductive vs the exhaustion of being burned out. fight.

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adventureofblue · 1 year

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breakfastless behavior

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adventureofblue · 1 year

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13 ways to propose | j.wonwoo

# genres & pairings: best friends to lovers to getting engaged, wonu calls reader “love”, lots and lots of fluff bc i love this couple sm, a little plot twist toward the end

# warnings: there’s a brief misunderstanding where reader thinks wonwoo is cheating (which is absolutely not the case) but it gets resolved quickly # word count: 4.1k

# author’s note: this is the sequel to 19 signs you’re unofficially dating but it can be read on its own !! also in case no one actually knew . . . yes both of the titles are based on real wikiHow links lol

# a glimpse: the one where wonwoo wants to propose but things don’t always go according to plan

It’s one of those rare restless nights where Wonwoo’s in bed by your side yet somehow can’t quite fall asleep. Your head on his chest with an arm wrapped around him, your eyes closed and he wants nothing more than to just lay here forever. Wonwoo sees your left hand devoid of any jewelry and there’s a question that’s been on his mind for far, far, far too long now.

“Soon,” he thinks to himself with a smile, “Soon there’ll be a weight resting on that hand of yours and a question for him to ask.”

You see, Jeon Wonwoo is a well-organized man who prides himself on rationality and logic. He’s got it all planned down to the minute, the manner in which he’ll ask that four-worded question to you the way that you deserve. However, life and love have a tendency to throw obstacles in the way, and perhaps it’s inevitable—the changes of time, a lack of control, a sudden burst of spontaneity. Jeon Wonwoo doesn’t know it tonight (not just yet, but he’ll find out soon enough) things don’t always go according to plan.

He’s been planning this proposal for months now. Making the effort to keep a carefully written itinerary updated on his phone. There’s a whole process to this, a way to do this right, and Wonwoo’s well aware that you deserve the best proposal he has to offer. There’s a guide of sorts that’s helped him out—an article titled “13 ways to propose” on wikiHow.

NUMBER ONE: CHOOSE A MEANINGFUL LOCATION

Perhaps planning the location was what stumped Wonwoo the most. There are a lot of places that come to mind like the cafe where you both had your first date or perhaps on the trail you two often go for a walk on. But there’s just something about the locations, they don’t quite feel right. The cafe feels a little too casual with too many people and the trail feels too empty. Special days between you two are typically spent dressing up and going out and with an important date coming up, Wonwoo plans to go all out to woo you.

Mingyu’s opened up a new restaurant lately and the two of you have yet to visit.

With a little help from friends and family, Wonwoo could very well get it decorated to his standards and surprise you.

NUMBER TWO: PICK THE RIGHT TIME

Is there ever truly a right time for things?

There’s a day Wonwoo thinks fondly about, the day the both of you finally acknowledged your feelings and confessed. With your anniversary coming up soon, it’s an opportunity that can’t be missed.

NUMBER THREE: KEEP YOUR PARTNER’S PREFERENCES IN MIND

A public proposal isn’t entirely either of your vibes and Wonwoo doesn’t want the proposal to happen in front of a bunch of strangers. If he had things his way, he’d much rather it just be the two of you but knowing you the way that he does, it’d be good to have your family around. A more private setting with a few chosen people is a good compromise and he makes a mental note to get everyone’s help once everything has been finalized.

NUMBER FOUR: DON’T BE AFRAID TO CHALLENGE EXPECTATIONS

It’s not that Wonwoo is afraid to challenge expectations but rather, love and impulsivity challenge his own.

NUMBER FIVE: FOLLOW CULTURAL TRADITIONS

Wonwoo’s well aware that he technically already does have your family’s permission to marry you but if he’s going to do this, he’s going to do this properly and officially ask for permission. Though he’s known your parents his entire life, there’s still that sense of nervousness coursing through his veins. He’s dressed nice enough he figures with a pair of trousers and a dress shirt. It’s not the first time he’s stood in front of your parent’s house given that the place has always served as a second home for him during his younger years—well, perhaps third? Yes, third would be a more fitting place as to where this house stands in his heart now. There’s his own parent’s house taking second place. Within those walls are laughter and loss and a story for another day—Home, his real home. The one full of love and safety and silly little arguments is where- it’s not a place, Wonwoo realizes. It’s not a place because home is you. Regardless of whether the place you both inhabit is a two-bedroom apartment or a house for your future children to inherit, his home rests wherever you are.

“Wonwoo-ah?” The familiar voice draws Wonwoo out of his thoughts and he’s faced with your mother by the door. “Come in!” she says with a smile.

Asking your parents for permission to marry you goes by smoother than he expects. There’s nothing for them to object with how Wonwoo has been by your side for most of your life and they’re well aware that he’s a good man.

When he enters the apartment that night, he hears the sound of music playing, and the scent of something good cooking in the air. He heads to the kitchen after taking off his shoes and there he sees you wearing one of his shirts. It’s a sight he comes home to, often, and one he deems a privilege he’s lucky enough to witness.

“Love,” he calls out, the familiar nickname leaving him with ease.

“Where have you been?” you ask. Wonwoo’s not entirely sure how to respond to the question. He doesn’t mean to lie, truly he doesn’t. After all, your relationship has been built on the basis of trust and honesty. But a part of him knows that if he were to reveal he was with your parents then that would raise suspicion on your end and he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“I was with the guys.”

You feel Wonwoo’s hands make their home on your waist, your boyfriend completely unaware of the thoughts running through your head. You’re not entirely sure how to take in Wonwoo’s statement—it’s not true, he wasn’t “with the guys” because just a few minutes ago... Seungcheol called to ask if you knew where your boyfriend was.

“Did you eat dinner?”

“Nah, I wanted to eat with you. I’m gonna get changed first.” Wonwoo leans in to kiss you once, twice, then three times. It’s a habit he’s formed lately, one of the ways he utters “I love you” without actually speaking the words out loud.

NUMBER SIX: PICK A RING IF YOUR PARTNER WOULD LIKE ONE

“Wonwoo-ah, it’s perfect!” your mom says excitedly. There’s a sigh of relief that escapes him at your mother’s approval for the ring.

“Really, you think so?” The ring was entirely customized and designed by him on the more simplistic side, however, not entirely traditional. In the center rests your birthstone and branching out from the center is a combination of small diamonds and his own birthstone.

“You did good, trust me.” He’s glad that your mother has been so supportive of this whole process and journey given that his own couldn’t be here. For as long as he could remember, your mother has been a second mom to him.

Once home after picking up the ring, he realizes that there isn’t really a good place to hide it. Keeping it in your shared bedroom would be too much of a risk given that you could easily find it yet keeping it in his car feels a little too unsafe. The ideal place for its safekeeping is somewhere within his reach yet out of yours and he decides on keeping it in the office. It’s more of a shared office space between you two where he completes work from home at times and you’ve got the items for your hobbies as well as a shelf full of books. However, Wonwoo uses the office the most and you don’t often come in. Banking on that, Wonwoo disguises the engagement ring in a cardboard box to disguise it as a package near his desk.

It started off as a nice day when it happens—the argument blows out of proportion between you and Wonwoo that is. You’ve decided to do some much-needed spring cleaning around the apartment and have done every part of the apartment save for the office.

“I can clean the office on my own, love,” Wonwoo says. It’s entirely unlike your boyfriend to say such a thing when he typically prefers that you do things together.

“What, why? We always clean it together.”

“It’s a lot of work and most of the mess is mine anyway.”

“We’re a team, we’re supposed to do things together.”

“I use it more than you do, love. I can clean it on my own,” There’s a sense of panic that fills Wonwoo at the thought of you finding the engagement ring he’s kept in the office but he realizes that he’s taken things too far when he utters the words, “It’s my office.”

“Fine have it your way!”

“Love, that’s not- I didn’t mean it that way, I’m sorry.” Wonwoo goes after you as you head into the bedroom.

“What the hell are you hiding?”

“Nothing?” Even Wonwoo doesn’t seem so sure about his statement.

“You lied. Last week when you told me you were out with the guys, you lied.”

“What? Wait- how did you find that out?”

“It doesn’t matter! With the way you’ve been acting lately, I know you’re hiding something!” Wonwoo grows quiet and suddenly, there’s a realization that draws upon you. “Are you- are you cheating on me?”

“What? No, would you think that?”

“Then where were you that night?”

“I can’t say.”

“Then I can’t sleep in the same bed as you tonight.”

“Love, I-”

“I’m sleeping in the living room.” You’re off to grab some blankets and a pillow but Wonwoo takes your hand before you can.

“Lo-” he stops himself from speaking the nickname because, in this moment, he doesn’t have the right to use the nickname. You watch as Wonwoo’s features soften, an apologetic look settling on his face. “Let me sleep in the living room, take the bed please.”

You decide not to argue with your boyfriend about this, simply squeezing his hand once, twice, then three times in a silent reassurance that you’ll get through this together if not right now then soon enough.

The hours go by a little unsettling—you can’t sleep without Wonwoo’s warmth. You know that he’d never cheat on you the fact that you even said it out loud has you regretting how things went down. It’s nearing 2 am when you finally decide to get out of bed and head over to your boyfriend. Wrapping yourself in a blanket and bringing it with you, it comes as a surprise when you see that Wonwoo is still awake.

“You’re still up?” you ask.

“I- yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Can we cuddle?”

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Ok.” You both settle on the couch and with Wonwoo on top of you, it’s silent. It isn’t until a few moments later that you feel him trembling in your arms, head resting in the crook of your neck.

“I’m not cheating, love, I am so, so, so sorry if I did or said anything that would make you think such a thing. You can do anything, go through the office, look through my phone, anything that’ll ease your worries. Please, I just- I’m sorry.” You take in the sight of your boyfriend with messy hair, a red nose, and tears falling from his eyes. You try your best to gently pat the tears away.

“I don’t want to look through your things, hon. I respect your privacy. But we need to talk this out.”

“I went over to your parent’s house that night,” he admits. He goes through his phone and shows you the screen, revealing a selfie of him and your parents and sure enough, the date lines up. There’s a sigh of relief that escapes you at the truth Wonwoo tells.

“I’m sorry that I jumped to conclusions.” Wonwoo shakes his head in response and clears his throat.

“It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have lied in the first place.”

“Can I ask why you went there without me?”

“I wanted to talk to them to ask for permission to marry you.” It takes a moment for the weight of Wonwoo’s words to register in your head.

“You wanna marry me?”

“Of course I do.” Wonwoo leans in to kiss you.

Once.

Twice.

Then three times.

And it feels like everything will be alright.

NUMBER SEVEN: ASK OR HIRE SOMEONE TO TAKE PICTURES

The proposal is set to happen over dinner, the two of you seated in a private corner of the restaurant but your friends and family at tables around you for it to be a surprise. With the number of people enlisted to be present, there’ll be enough people to record the moment. He’s a little nervous, thinking about all of the eyes that’ll be watching. Granted it is friends and family and he knows they won’t judge him but still- to bare all of his feelings out in the open for everyone to witness feels frightening.

Regardless, he’ll push through.

NUMBER EIGHT: PLAN TO SPEND QUALITY TIME TOGETHER AFTER THE PROPOSAL

After the proposal, there are a number of ways that things could go. Of course, you’ll end up spending time with your friends and family there for the proposal but he plans for when it’s just the two of you. He does some research and books a night at a nice hotel for that extra romance.

NUMBER NINE: PRACTICE WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY

It’s a little hard for Wonwoo to find the proper time and place to practice what it is that he wants to say during the proposal. After all, he can’t just openly practice his speech during work hours nor he can’t say it at home when you’re within earshot. Sometimes he’ll practice on the drive to work—trying his best to recount each and every word.

Though, if he’s being honest with himself there aren’t any words worthy of conveying the love you’ve offered throughout the years.

He’s in the bathroom one night, having just gotten out of the shower and wearing a pair of sweatpants while rehearsing (read: mumbling out) his speech. There’s a knock on the door that draws him out of his thoughts, the sound of your familiar voice greeting his ears.

“Wonu?” you call out.

Did you hear?

At the sudden intrusion, he drops his phone and in an attempt to catch it accidentally hits his arm on the counter. A string of curses escapes his mouth as he brings a hand to his arm and the door opens.

“I’m ok!” he manages to say.

“Stay here, I’ll get you something to ice it!” Once you’ve got a package of frozen vegetables wrapped in a towel, you tell Wonwoo to sit on the counter.

“Love, I’m not gonna sit on the counter,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“Sit on the counter, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, you don’t have to-”

“Wonwoo, sit on the damn counter.” Your boyfriend can tell that there’s no changing your mind and eventually does as you say. He’s even taller than usual with him seated on the bathroom sink counter but it’s not very often you get the chance of fuss over him. You place the makeshift ice pack on his arm, having to hold back a laugh at the way he pouts a little. “Does it hurt?”

“Kind of,” he admits. You’re standing in between Wonwoo’s legs, a sigh leaving your lips.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Is everything ok? You’ve been weird lately,” you mumble as you lean up to offer Wonwoo a kiss.

“Our anniversary’s coming up, love,” he comments.

“What do you wanna do?”

“I was thinking we could go shopping during the day and head to that cat cafe you’ve been wanting to visit. We could end off with dinner at Gyu’s restaurant and spend the night in a hotel.” While you are thankful for your boyfriend’s thoughtfulness, it’s not fair for you two just be doing things that you like.

“Why don’t we stay in for the day?” you offer. “We can have a lazy day together and relax.”

“It’s our anniversary, we should do something.”

“Spending time with you is something that I want.”

“I wanna go out for a change.” Though you’re not entirely convinced, you decide to go along with it.

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

NUMBER TEN: PICK A NICE OUTFIT

The outfit Wonwoo has planned to wear for your anniversary isn’t entirely a very fancy one. Wearing a full-on suit would be a bit of a giveaway but a white turtleneck and some trousers feels classy enough. It’s a special occasion—as is any anniversary—and he even has a bouquet of flowers reserved for pickup for the morning to surprise you with along with some other gifts.

NUMBER ELEVEN: ENJOY THE MOMENT INSTEAD OF WORRYING

When it comes the night before your anniversary, Wonwoo finds himself less nervous than he thought. There’s just something about you—perhaps it’s the familiarity of your presence or the entirety of your being that has Wonwoo feeling a sense of safety with you.

NUMBER TWELVE: POP THE QUESTION

The question that’s been lingering on Wonwoo’s mind isn’t asked the way he planned. You’re both in bed, doing your own little thing next to each other and he happens to be reading a book while you’re on your laptop. It’s a common occurrence for the two of you to stay up together and today seems to be no different.

“Wonu,” you call out. Immediately, his attention turns away from the book and settles on you.

“Mhm?”

“Happy anniversary,” you say with a smile. Wonwoo glances at his phone realizing that it’s midnight and there’s a smile that makes its way on his own face. He leans in to kiss you.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

“Happy anniversary, my love.”

“I wanna show you something, look.” You shift your laptop toward him and what he sees is a little unexpected. Printed on a canvas is the title “Recipe for a Happy Marriage” and the list includes things like:

“4 cups of love.”

“Add forgiveness and patience as needed.”

“Garnish with a kiss.”

What really gets to Wonwoo is the way it states “Cook for a lifetime” toward the end. It truly is cheesy, something so trivial and almost endearingly stupid yet it only has his heart racing at the thought of it all.

Going furniture shopping and decorating a house with you.

Eventually starting a family should the time comes.

To be fully and completely yours the way he’s always longed to be.

And oh…

“It’s so cheesy isn’t it?” you ask.

“It’d be good for our kitchen when we get married.”

“Will you marry me?” you utter the question so casually. As if you’re asking him what place to order takeout from for dinner or what new colored blanket to buy. The question doesn’t quite fully process in his mind yet the following words instinctively come out.

“Of course, I will.” The last thing he expects is the little velvet box you reveal, a ring settled inside.

“Give me your hand.” Wonwoo freezes, eyes darting from the black box to your eyes not quite sure what to think.

“You’re proposing to me?”

“Mhm.”

“No!” He doesn’t intend for the word to come out the way that it does—all rude as if marrying you is something he doesn’t want to do. The saddened and surprised look on your face breaks his heart and he’s quick to try and rectify the situation. He exhales a deep breath, taking your hand in his. “I didn’t mean no as in no I won’t marry you. I just- it’s, I had a plan for today.”

“A plan?”

The thought of “THIS ISN’T THE RIGHT TIME!” echoes in Wonwoo’s head. It’s supposed to happen approximately 19 hours from now according to his plan—Wonwoo expected this all to enact according to plan. During a time when all of your friends and family are present to capture the moment in a place with a view that’s supposed to make you swoon. It’s not supposed to happen at ass o’clock in the morning when you’re both far too sleep deprived and dressed in PJs and mismatched fluffy socks.

Maybe there’s never really a right time for anything is there?

And things don’t always go as expected, right?

He opens the nightstand drawer, taking out the ring box.

The weight of a promised lifetime feels just a tad bit heavier than Wonwoo remembers but perhaps that’s the nerves getting to him.

“I had a whole proposal planned for tomorrow… well? Technically later at Mingyu’s restaurant,” he admits. “There was a whole speech I’ve been practicing but- I just, I can’t even remember most of it now because I’m nervous. But I love you. I have always loved you to a point where I can’t remember a time when I didn’t. We’ve been together our entire lives and this ring… the ring just, it kinda makes things a little more official. I still wanna propose later and show you the ring then but it’s- hell yeah, I’ll marry you.” There’s a rush of emotions coursing through you, words unable to fully convey what it is that you’re feeling so you lean in to kiss your boyfriend (read: fiancé). When you look up at Wonwoo, you realize that tears have started to fall from his eyes so you lightly pat them away with your sleeve.

“I love you, Wonu.” He leans in to kiss you.

Once.

Twice.

Three times after you place the ring on his finger.

“I can’t believe you proposed to me.”

“I thought it was kinda dumb that guys don’t usually get an engagement ring. It’s kinda unfair that I get to wear a wedding ring and an engagement ring but you’d only be wearing one. I was thinking of changing things up and planning to propose to you because my man deserves to be proposed to on our anniversary. I felt like you’d be shy if there were people around us so here we are.” Wonwoo wraps his arms around you tighter, a warmth settling over his heart at how thoughtful you are.

“When I propose later please pretend to be surprised,” he mumbles out. There’s a pout on his face you just want to kiss away but you settle for placing a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t think you won the woo-ing just yet, love,” he adds.

NUMBER THIRTEEN: TALK ABOUT THE FUTURE WITH YOUR PARTNER

It’s your anniversary night and the wave of excitement is still settled over you and Wonwoo as you enter the hotel room he’s reserved. Admittedly, things don’t really feel much different—you’ve known each other for so long and have been together your entire lives that the ring only confirms what it is that you hope for the future.

“How many kids do you wanna have?” you find yourself asking out of curiosity.

“However many you want,” comes Wonwoo’s genuine response.

“What if I didn’t want any?”

“Then I’d get a vasectomy.” It’s a genuine statement on Wonwoo’s end and you can’t help but smile, resting your face in the crook of his neck.

“I want at least two kids. It’d be a shame not to pass down your genes. So at least one human child and then we could adopt a cat or a dog, I don’t know yet.” There’s a chuckle that leaves Wonwoo and the rumble of his chest is an all too comforting feeling.

“Sounds good to me, love.”

# author’s note: thinking ab writing the wedding day of this couple . . . there’s already a scene in my drafts for it but i make no promises. there’s also a wikihow titled something similar to 12 steps on how to find a home which would make a cute addition but again . . . no promises 😭

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adventureofblue · 1 year

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Kinda crazy how my first cellphone didn't have a camera or internet and 17 years later this thing knows more about me than I do and gives people brand new mental ilnesses.

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adventureofblue · 1 year

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close as strangers | wen junhui

ミ★ synopsis: in a world where everyone forgot who wen junhui is—you remembered. [ based on spiderman: no way home ]

ミ★ genre: spiderman!jun, strangers to lovers!au (kinda?), angst, some humor, some fluff

ミ★ warnings: brief mentions of violence, contains some spoilers from nwh so if you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read until you watch !! ^^

ミ★ word count: 7,650

ミ★ pairings: junhui x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys !! long time no oneshot </3 i got this idea after i watched spiderman no way home and was like :000 let me write what i literally want to happen LMAO this was actually for my own self indulgence, and i got the grand idea that jun would be such a cute spiderman ?!? anyways… i hope you guys like this one ! make sure to give jun lots of love <333

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adventureofblue · 1 year

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good things from bad days

✧ jun x reader

✧ summary: jun returns to the apartment after you've texted him that you've had a bad day. seeing you drunk, jun decides to take care of you like you've taken care of him. only you are much more honest with your feelings when you're not sober.

✧ wc is approx 5.6k

✧ genre: roommates-to-lovers; fluff, comedy; pining when you know the person you're pining for also loves you; basically in an relationship and the only ones who don't know are you two; extreme domesticity; knowing someone; drunken confessions; grumpy reader x sunshine jun, but only hints of it; jun is a huge fucking simp

✧ notes: this is not edited. despite jun being sober while reader is drunk, he doesn't do anything that takes advantage of this. this is ultimately: we've loved each other for five years and you admitting you're in love with him while drunk gives jun the push he needs. drink responsibily, kiddos.

✧ drabble sequel here!!!!!

When you had texted Jun that you were having a bad day, Jun didn’t quite know what to expect. You had your fair share of bad days, unfortunately; Jun wished every day was filled with nothing but happiness and contentment for you, but he was just one man and couldn’t fight the whole world.

(Once, when you were having a bad day, a barista had nearly made you cry. She had given you a once-over, looking you up and down after you gave your order. Then she gave a little huff, irritated, before turning around and walking away.

Jun didn’t throw a punch at the barista because 1) she was, at the most, eighteen, and 2) it just wasn’t in his personality to do so. But he did leave a negative review and said he found a hair in his drink.)

Today had started out good, he had thought. But then around noon he got a message about your boss, and then twenty minutes later you were saying that you just wanted to be home, that you couldn't take another minute at work. His heart had broken, reading that.

But Jun did what he did whenever he noticed you were looking particularly sad. He went out and bought a bouquet of flowers, stopped at the little Chinese place that knew the both of you by name. Left a fiver at the little shrine in the back of the restaurant, placed his palms together, asked for your health and happiness, just as he always did whenever the two of you stopped.

“Say hi to your lover for me!” Auntie Meilan waved, grinning at him. “Bring them in next time!”

“I will!” Jun called back, saluting and neglecting to correct the Auntie that no, you weren’t his lover, you were just his longtime roommate that he had been in love with for far too long.

That was all.

Night had long fallen on the city, street lights dim and headlights bright. Jun hated getting off this late. He hated it because it meant he missed out on the normal mealtime for the both of you, and he knew that instead of you just making food for yourself or even making a meal and saving some of it in the fridge for him to have later, you would hold off on eating altogether until he got home so the two of you could share dinner and talk about your day.

Which was why he volunteered to grab food.

Jun’s stomach grumbled as he walked to the car, and if he was a lesser man he would’ve torn open the takeout box and ate his portion right then and there. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. No matter how hungry he was.

“You wouldn’t be so hungry if you actually ate a meal at lunch instead of just eating those shrimp chips you like so much.” You had said once, watching as Jun tore open a container of cherry tomatoes and began eating them whole as soon as he walked through the apartment door.

He had gasped dramatically, and still chewing the cherry tomatoes, scolding you. “How dare you talk about my precious chips as if they’re nothing more than a mere snack! They’re in a league of their own, they deserve an entire meal dedicated to them --”

“Okay, shrimp boy,” you had amended, your brow furrowing in adorable concern. You had rounded the island and went to the cupboard, withdrawing with a box of pasta. “Hold your horses and I’ll whip up some pasta. Don’t make yourself sick on those.”

The smell of takeout permeated the car, to the point where Jun couldn’t even smell it over the vanilla scentsy you had gotten him. It took far too long for Jun to get to the apartment, and every time the light switched to red Jun wanted to just slam his foot down on the pedal and speed through the intersection.

But he didn’t.

The man with the french bulldog was walking the dog around the parking lot when he pulled in, and gave Jun a short wave in greeting. Spotting the takeout bags in Jun’s hands, he called out, “Must be your night to make supper!”

Ignoring how misogynistic that seemed and how Jun was the one to primarily make your meals, Jun gave the man a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, haha. Nothing like takeout on a Friday night!”

“Tell your sweetheart I said hi!”

Again neglecting to correct the man, Jun made his way into the building. He greeted the old woman who always sat in the foyer because you always greeted her, remembering how you once commented on how she must live alone or feel lonely, to spend her entire day in the front watching people come and go.

Jun took the elevator on the right, despite knowing that you didn’t trust that particular elevator and all the squeaking and moaning it did. He felt bad for the next person who would use the elevator, knowing they would smell nothing but delicious Chinese food.

As Jun shoved his key into the hole to unlock your apartment door, he got the distinct feeling that something was off. He didn’t know how he knew, but Jun knew without even stepping foot into the apartment that something was wrong.

This didn’t dissuade him; instead he hurried in, calling out for you as soon as the door was open.

“I’m home! Food is acquired and ready for consumption as soon as you are!”

He kicked off his shoes, ignoring the shoe rack you had insisted on buying, and made his way to the kitchen. He set the takeout on the island, peering around the apartment for you.

As it was Friday, the apartment was slightly a mess. Socks littered the floor, and Jun spotted your pants near the corner of the couch. He entered the space, noting the nearly-empty bottles of vodka and pineapple juice. There was an empty bag of chips -- his shrimp chips.

He called out your name again, rounding the couch. The living room blankets were in complete disarray, and your laptop was propped up on the coffee table. There were a few crumbs on the couch, and Jun spotted a muffin wrapper on the floor.

“Wen Junhui!”

Arms were suddenly around his middle, pulling him back and squeezing. Jun immediately knew it was you, and turned in your arms. You were already grinning up at him, slightly too-wide and with eyes that glittered brighter than usual.

“Junnie,” you whined, pitching forward and burrowing your face into his chest. Bewildered, but slowly coming to a realization, Jun wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you to him. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” he agreed. You tightened your grip around his waist, leading him into a swaying motion. “Are you okay?”

You pouted, resting your chin on his chest in order to look up at him. “No. I had a bad day. And I’m drunk.”

You may be drunk, Jun acknowledged, but you were no less beautiful than when he left you. You were smiling at him like he was your favorite person on the planet, as if he was the person most dear to you, as if he was someone you treasured and loved, and Jun couldn’t help but giggle and bend down to press a swift kiss to your forehead.

“Yes,” he laughed a little. “You are drunk. I brought food home.”

You gasped, mouth gaping and eyes widening dramatically. “For me?”

“For you!”

Squealing, you burrowed your face into his chest. He hoped you couldn’t hear the way his heart was threatening to leap from it. “You’re amazing! You’re the bestest!”

Squeezing you one last time, Jun reluctantly pulled himself away. While he loved hugging and loving you, and would gladly do nothing but that for days on end, you were drunk and vulnerable. “No, you’re the bestest.”

You frowned at him as he untangled himself, whining. Jun couldn’t help but coo at you, reaching out and pressing your cheeks together. You were so fucking cute.

“Noooo,” you protested, hands reaching up to cover his. “Youuuuuu!”

“I greatly disagree,” Jun said. He pressed another kiss to your forehead and pulled away. He rounded you, hands going to your shoulders, and began guiding you towards the kitchen.

Jun was careful to make sure you didn’t hit a hand or foot on the couch leg, gentle and slow enough to ensure you weren’t going to stumble. All the while you were chattering to him, telling Jun about a show you had watched as a child.

“I don’t know that show,” he admitted, guiding you to sit down at the island. He left your side to return to the takeout, pulling the boxes out of the bag and setting them on the counter. He then went to the dishwasher and pulled out chopsticks. “I grew up in China, remember?”

“Ooh,” you said, eyes wide. It reminded him of Bambi, almost, how innocent and sweet you seemed like this. You were always sweet, he knew, but there was something especially child-like about you when you were like this. “I forgot.”

Jun set your chopsticks in front of you. He then went to the cupboard and withdrew two cups, quickly filling them with water and setting them down on the island. “It’s okay. We can always watch that show later.”

You nodded somberly, puffing out your cheeks. He couldn’t help but grin at how intently you were watching him open up the takeout boxes, your eyes taking in his every move. Jun picked up his chopsticks and clicked them at you once, watching your eyes focus, before reaching for the box of noodles.

“Hey!” You snapped, reaching out and smacking his hand. Jun startled, dropping a blob of noodles on the counter. “Where did you grow up! In a barn? We use plates when eating in this apartment, young man!”

“Yessir!” Jun returned, roughly saluting at you. He stood up and went to the dishwasher, and when he set down two plates you gave him a sharp nod of approval.

“Good.” You glanced down at the mess of noodles. Frowning, you hopped down from the barstool.

“Where are you going?”

“To clean up your mess, Mr. Junhui,” you slurred, rounding the island to grab paper towels. He couldn’t help but laugh at the serious look on your face, as if he had committed a serious wrong.

He was going to clean it, of course, after your meal. But he said nothing as you walked to his elbow and leaned against his arm, reaching and collecting the fallen noodles. “Dirty boy.”

Jun nodded, still smiling. “Yes, I’m a dirty boy, aren’t I?”

You returned his nod, still serious. “But you’re my dirty boy.”

Suddenly feeling his heart warm with affection and adoration, Jun inclined his head. “Yes. I’m your boy.”

Satisfied, you tossed the noodles and paper towel into the sink and returned to your seat. You brought the plate between yourself and the boxes, and Jun watched as you, very carefully, lifted your chopsticks and grabbed the box of sesame chicken.

Even as the two of you ate, you were speaking. Jun listened as you talked about this woman at work who did nothing but complain about her children and husband, but then also said she was trying for a fourth, and how you didn’t think she had ever said a single nice thing about her family since you’ve met her.

Then you were frowning seriously at Jun, pointing at him with your chopsticks. “We won’t end like that no matter what, right, Junnie?”

“Right, darling.”

You set your chopsticks down on the table, reaching out with your other hand. Your hand wrapped around Jun’s cup and brought it to your lips. “Wait -- that’s my cup, I’ve already drank from it, it has my cooties.”

Jun watched you pause for a few seconds, eyeing him over the rim of the cup. And then you raised it to your lips and gulped it.

“There,” you said, sighing in satisfaction. “Now I have your cooties.”

You then opened up the steamed vegetables, delight taking over your features. Jun continued eating as you shifted through the vegetables, picking out the broccoli and placing each piece on his plate. Jun ate them dutifully, shoving each piece into his mouth.

“Careful,” you scolded, “you’ll choke.”

Jun watched as you then set down your chopsticks on the counter, the metal clinking against the surface. You pointed at him, peering at him with an extremely serious look on your face that didn’t really suit the situation and had Jun fighting to keep his smile off of his face.

“Listen here, Wen Junhui,” you slowly began, brows furrowing. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you to not stuff your mouth. But I’m serious. Choking is not a joke. It’s not fun. Have you ever been choked before?”

You had begun gesturing with your hands during your little speech, and at the end of your statement you waved your hand and sent your cup tumbling.

Jun jumped up, rushing for the paper towels and rounding the island. You were blinking at the water even as it dripped into your lap, and Jun shoved away the cuteness of how you looked, confused and taken aback, and ushered you off the stoll.

“Oh,” you mumbled, moving.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, “we just have a small ocean in our kitchen. I’ll clean it up while you get changed out of your pants.”

He spun a few too many towels from the roll, focusing on turning the cup upright and wiping down the counter before moving onto the mess on the floor. You were still muttering to yourself, and it wasn’t until you made a small “oh” sound, followed by the sound of something hitting the wall, did Jun turn around.

You were standing in front of him, legs completely bare and leggings sitting sadly on the floor from where you had thrown them against the wall. For a moment Jun couldn’t help but look -- look at your thighs and take in the shape of them, the color; his eyes trailed down over your knee and to your legs, taking in the spots where you had attempting waxing and given up halfway through, leaving bald patches on your leg surrounded by hair.

But fuck, if he didn’t want to wrap his hand around your leg and guide it around his waist, pull you tight against him and feel your body pressed against his.

“Staring is rude,” you said, flapping your hand towards Jun.

“Mm,” he hummed, turning his back to you. Jun dropped to the floor, beginning on the small puddle that had formed. “I won’t mention all the staring you do at me when I get out of the shower, then.”

“That’s not fair, though,” you argued. Jun stood, knees cracking, and watched as you stomped your foot. The fat of your thighs jiggled at the movement, and he wanted to dig his fingers into your flesh and see how it molded around his digits. “You know what you look like.”

“I do?”

“Irresistible,” you said matter-of-factly.

He echoed you, the word and its implications not really registering with him until he said it himself. And then the little light in Jun’s head flicked on, and he squinted at you.

It wasn’t like you made it a habit to be drunk; you didn’t. In the years Jun’s known you, in the years he’s been your roommate, he’s only seen you properly drunk a handful of times. But he knows what you’re like when you’re drunk: you’re giggly, silly, and honest.

“Alcohol is like a truth serum for me,” you had told him after a few weeks of meeting. “Get me drunk and I’ll tell you anything. It’s why I can’t be President: I’d reveal all the State secrets.”

And sure enough, Jun found out that when you were drunk, you were incredibly honest. He could ask you any question he wanted and you would answer. He had once tested this by asking you if you had ever lied to your grandma before. Sober you had frowned at him and shook your head, saying you had nothing to really lie about; drunk you had bursted into tears, sobbing about how you had lied to her about your whereabouts on your 21st birthday by saying you had been safely drinking with your friends at their apartment instead of being out at clubs.

So: drunk you was as honest as you could get. You weren’t inherently dishonest, but all of the little things you were ashamed of or kept secret bubbled out.

Irresistible.

Truthfully, Jun wanted to poke at this some more. He wanted to ask you to elaborate, and he knew that if he was quiet for much longer you would elaborate yourself.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

It felt wrong doing that. You trusted him. You trusted him when you were sick, when you were drunk, when you were in tears; you trusted Jun when you were at your most vulnerable, and taking advantage of you in this state, even to just question you about your feelings towards him, was wrong.

Jun instead began talking, filling up the empty space with his own chatter in order to get your mind off of him in the shower. He narrated what he was doing as he did it, loudly, speaking everything as it appeared in his mind.

“I’m going to throw away these towels. I know you don’t mind it when I leave wrappers around, because you do it too, but I know you hate it when dirty things are left. Like I remember you scolding Seungcheol for leaving his sweaty undershirt in our bathroom.

“Gosh, I’m going to have to take the trash down next time I leave the apartment. I know you don’t mind doing it, but I also know you don’t like it particularly either. I’m okay with that. You do enough for me, I don’t mind doing this.”

Jun rounded the counter once more, reaching out for you. You went easily, hugging yourself close to him. Despite the alcohol you had drank, you still smelled like you: fresh linen, oranges and lemons, the sort of things that reminded Jun of home. His favorite smells in the world.

He swooped down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, smoothing your hair away from your face. You blinked up at him lazily at the gesture, eyes taking just a moment too long to open. “Ooh, are you my tired baby?”

You hummed, nodding sleepily. Then you opened your eyes, your arms going over Jun’s to wrap around him in return. “Yes. Your baby.”

Jun tapped his hands against your lower back, leading you into a sway. You complied easily, grinning and rocking back and forth. Your warmth was pressed against his front, your weight in his arms a comforting one.

Sometimes he felt selfish for having you like this. Like he was keeping you from someone, like he was wrong for keeping you a secret from the world, keeping you up here in your shared apartment.

Sometimes it felt wrong, leading you into a dance during the late evening, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your forehead. But the thing was, Jun wasn’t stupid.

You didn’t share an apartment with someone for nearly five years without there being something. You didn’t settle into a routine for five years, didn’t spend hundreds of nights pressed together on the couch watching television; didn’t wait up until late in the night for him to return, didn’t welcome his mother and little brother into the apartment with welcoming smiles and hugs.

He didn’t remember the last time you went on a date.

Or: Jun didn’t remember the last time you went on a date that wasn’t with him.

Yes: Jun wasn’t stupid.

He saw it. He saw how you took care of him, how you always made sure his favorite snacks were in the cupboard; how you went out and bought new soles for his shoes when he complained about his back hurting too much; how you looked at him when he wasn’t looking, how your voice always took this gentle tone with him, as if he was someone precious, someone you treasured.

He knew you were in love with him.

Just like he was in love with you.

But actually saying it, actually bridging the gap?

Jun sighed, pulling away. He looked down at you, his darling sweetheart with sparkling eyes. He brushed your hair back away from your forehead. “Let’s go find you some pants, baby.”

You blinked up at him, seemingly unable to process. Then you pouted, lips poking out and eyes furrowing.

Oh, how cute you were --

“‘m not cute,” you childishly protested. You blinked again, and Jun felt his heart plummet when your eyes took on a red hue and tears began to swell.

“Baby!” He gasped, hands moving to hold your cheeks. Jun brushed away the tears that began to drop with the tip of his fingers, feeling concern bubble up within him. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“You just --” A little sob left you, and you threw yourself forward and into his arms. Jun stumbled back at the sudden addition of your weight, his arms wrapping tightly around you. You nuzzled into him. “You just take such good care of me, Junnie.”

Jun chuckled, squeezing your shoulder. “I’m just returning --”

You shook your head against his chest. He reached up and brushed your hair back again, revealing a single red eye and tear tracks on your cheeks. “You don’t understand, Junnie! You -- you’re so good and handsome and sweet and silly, and I love you so much.”

His heart thudded against his ribcage; he was scared it was going to burst from his chest entirely.

Jun smiled down at you nonetheless, cupping your cheek in one of his hands. “And I love you.”

“No,” you shook your head again. “You don’t understand. I love you. Like. Like Captain Ri loves Seri.”

Jun’s heart flew out of his chest and left the building. It fucking flew away, soared through the sky and and rounded the earth. As a matter of fact, it took his brain with him, and the two decided to fly up to the moon and wave at the stars.

“You -- like. Like marry me levels of like?”

“Yes,” you sighed, as if he was dull. “We’re gonna move out of the apartment because we can’t have cats and then move into a little townhouse and adopt two of them so they don’t get lonely, and I’m gonna buy you a ring to match mine and we’ll share a bed and I love you so much.”

Jun’s heart returned to his chest and was fluttering and acting as if it were a butterfly trapped within his ribcage; his brain, however, was still up with the moon and sun.

Then you grinned up at him, tear tracks still visible against your cheeks. “Dude, we should adopt like, twelve cats.”

And he remembered the bottle of nearly-empty vodka, the spilled water, and his sensibilities. You were drunk, and while you were an honest drunk, it wasn’t fair of him to do this.

It wasn’t fair of Jun to pester you further, to make you unravel all your secrets; not when you were vulnerable like this. No matter how much he wanted to, how much he yearned to know about the sincerity of your words, he couldn’t.

Jun pressed a kiss to your forehead again, closing his eyes and exhaling. He felt you mirror him, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his chest.

“Love it when you give me kissies,” you mumbled against him.

“Well, I love kissing you.”

You blinked owlishly up at him, mouth agape. “Really?”

He laughed, both hands going to cup your cheeks and hold your face so he could press another kiss to your forehead. “Really, darling.”

Your smile was brighter than any star or sun in the universe. If you were sober, Jun would swoop down and press a kiss to your lips, but alas.

Instead he began guiding you towards your room. “I think we should get some pants on, don’t you? Wouldn’t want you getting cold. I heard that if you get too cold you turn into a penguin, no joke.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” Jun returned, reaching over to turn on the light of your room. Your room was messy, proof of how hard of a time you’ve been having lately. Clothes were strewn about, and your blankets were in a tangled mess. One of your pillows was on the foot of your bed, and your precious stuffed koala Jun had gotten you during one of his and Joshua’s dates to the fair was on the floor.

“People don’t turn into penguins, Junnie,” you said.

“They do if they’re cold,” Jun said. He left you standing in the doorway, moving to your dresser and pulling out a pair of sweats. “That’s how we got penguins. They’re just evolved from cold people.”

You were squinting at him when he returned. Jun held out your pants for a few moments, but you made no move to grab them from him. Finally you took your pants, holding out your hand; he offered his arm, and you held onto Jun as you slowly stepped into your pants one foot at a time.

“I want you to know that I know you’re making this up,” you told Jun.

Jun laughed, shoulders shaking. He ducked his head, blonde bangs obscuring his vision. Your grip on his arm eased, and your other hand was smoothing back his bangs and revealing his eyes once more.

“There you are,” you cooed at him, “my pretty boy.”

Then you yawned, wide enough to where Jun swore he saw down your throat. Despite seeing that, Jun still felt nothing but love for you as you blinked up at him sleepily, smiling like a dope.

“Okay, why don’t you lay down in your bed?” Jun pulled away, capturing your hand and pressing a kiss to your fingers. “I’m going to go get you some water, and then I’ll be back. All right?”

Jun returned to your room a few minutes later, cold cup of water in one hand and headache pills in the other for the morning. Despite the overhead light being on you were splayed out on your bed, face down and limbs going in every direction.

He paused for a second, worried. Then he saw your back slowly move up and down. Assured he hadn’t walked in on a crime scene, Jun continued his way into your room. He set the cup and pills on your bedside table before leaning down and yanking the blankets out from under you.

Grumbling, you rolled over on the bed and allowed Jun to gather the blankets. He took a few seconds to unravel them, and when he did he laid each one over your body.

You hummed in approval as he tucked the blankets around your body, patting your arm and legs as he did so. “All snug?”

“Snug,” you agreed.

Jun grabbed your koala off the ground. He hugged it to his chest, breathing in your scent that had rubbed off on the stuffie. Jun pressed a kiss to the koala’s forehead before setting it on the bed next to you.

Your breathing was completely evened out as he smoothed your hair away from your face. He traced his fingers alongside your temple, your cheek. He ran his pointer finger over your nose, feeling the decline of it. Your lips, feeling the plush flesh give beneath his finger, watching as you subconsciously licked your lips.

God, Jun was a fucking creep.

Jun pressed a kiss to your forehead, finally retreating. He made his way from your bedroom, only pausing when he got to the doorway. Jun hovered his hand over the light switch for a moment, hesitating. And then:

“I love you.”

And the light was switched off.

You were conscious for only a handful of seconds before you were fleeing from the warmth of your bed and sprinting to the bathroom, the pressure of your bladder too great to wait a moment longer.

Jun was laughing loudly through the bathroom door, and you opened it once you were finished washing your hands. Glaring at him, you flicked your still-damp hands at him, splashing him with droplets of water.

“Hey!” He laughed, reeling back a little. His eyes were sparkling, and his pretty pink lips were parted to reveal his grin. “Stop bullying me!”

“You’re the bully,” you mumbled, reaching up and shielding your eyes. Natural sunlight shined through the windows of your living room, reaching into the bathroom and offending your sensitive eyes. You shot Jun a glare as he laughed some more, flicking off the bathroom light and retreating to your room once more.

The sound of footsteps followed you. “I left some medicine by your bed for your headache.”

“Don’t have much of one,” you replied.

“Probably because you’ve slept until three in the afternoon,” Jun returned.

You spun around, eyes wide. Jun was leaning against your door frame, arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his grey t-shirt were rolled up to reveal his biceps, which were constantly gaining size as he increased his visits to the gym. His blonde bangs brushed against his eyes, and you couldn’t help but follow their movement as he flicked his head to get them out of his eyes.

“Three?”

“In the afternoon,” Jun finished. You sat down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs. Jun sat down next to you, though he laid back and let his arms fall above his head. “Should’ve woken me up.”

“I tried, Grumpy,” Jun said. He reached out and tapped you, and you fell back to lay beside him. “Several times.”

“Evidently not hard enough.”

“Next time I’ll play the trumpet, if you want.”

“I guess that’ll work.” You stretched your arms over your head, and when you rested them your pinkie was brushing Jun’s. You tried not to think about it, but every time your fingers brushed it was as if every nerve in your body was concentrated on that one point. “I wasn’t horrible for you last night, was I?”

Jun shook his head. You turned your head slightly to see him already staring at you; when your eyes met, he smiled. “You’re never horrible for me when you’re drunk. Now when you’re sober --”

“Oh, hush,” you said, reaching out and slapping his arm. He let out a small noise of pain, but you ignored it. You shifted onto your side, leaning down and looking at him. “I really didn’t do anything bad?”

Humming, he tilted his head. He moved one hand to rest behind his head, and the other reached up for you. Your eyes fluttered as his hand brushed over your forehead, fingers gliding through your hair. “Nothing bad, but you said some interesting things.”

Fuck.

“Fuck,” you hissed. Your heart began to pick up speed, as if you were standing in front of a thousand people getting ready to perform a song you’d only heard once before. “Fuck.”

“Don’t worry!” Jun assured you, his fingers tracing over the shell of your ear. He pinched the lobe of your ear, causing you to wince. “You only confessed that you found me irresistible. And that you love me like Captain Ri and Yoo Seri love each other.”

You furrowed your brow, watching Jun. He stared up at you, eyes half-lidded, lips twisting into a little grin. He looked perfectly at ease, but at the same time, there wasn’t a single hint of true mischief on his face.

“Did I really?” You asked, voice small.

Jun nodded. His fingers dipped underneath your ear and traced your jaw. “Really. It was cute.”

“And?”

His fingers rested on your chin. He shifted his hand, and then his fingers were brushing against your lips. You let Jun trace your mouth, still leaning over him, heart beginning to calm. Jun’s touch was easing your nerves, and his apparent acceptance and serenity soothed you into following suit.

This was what often happened, you knew. Jun and you were both introverts; you didn’t like new situations. You hated crowds, hated the loudness of them and how close everyone stood together; you hated the unknown. But then when Jun was beside you, his features neutral and seemingly unbothered, it did something to you. It was as if his tranquility tricked your anxiousness, leaked into your soul and tamed the rough seas.

“And,” Jun murmured, “I love you.”

It was like when you found a blanket at the store and sunk your fingers into it, the feeling of smooth softness encompassing your digits completely. But instead of just your fingers it was your entire soul.

It wasn’t a big revelation, you thought; not a huge unknown that needed to be answered.

It was just another fact of life, you figured as you lowered your head to Jun’s. He shifted, elbows pressing into your mattress, raising himself to you. It was just another fact. The sun was yellow, the moon was white, the ocean is big and Wen Junhui loves you.

With your lips pressed to his, you had one last fleeting thought before his mouth consumed yours entirely: now you didn’t have to feel bad about not correcting the Aunties at the restaurant about him being your boyfriend.

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