junplusone

[junplusone]

awful awful awful

Of course I am requesting emidiatly...

What kind of future by Woozi... with Woozi 🫡

I apologize in advance. Feel like this one is gonna be an agaty one.

although i don't wanna see you, i miss you although i hate you, i miss you i don't understand myself so well

wc <1k. warnings angst, cursing, missed chances, childhood friends to lovers to ??? jay’s musings (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) …

You’ve been avoiding your phone all day.

You saw the notifications from high school friends, got the pings on various social medias. Twitter has been going particularly insane about the news, SEVENTEEN’s producer trending with edits of his raw vocals turning into a fully furnished song.

After what felt like the hundredth message from your best friend, telling you to just listen to the goddamn lyrics damnit, you promptly put your ringer on silent and slipped your phone into your bag without a backwards glance.

Trudging into your apartment bedroom, you fall onto your comforter, tears caught in the back of your throat. You hated how you instantly knew what the song was about when you saw the title.

Like, come on—What kind of future? Could he be anymore obvious?

Your eyes subconsciously trail to the sticker-decorated headphones lying on your desk. They taunt you, promising secrets that only you would be allowed to unlock via the key of childhood memories. You huff and sit up.

Fine. You’ll listen to the damn song.

You don’t even realize your body is shaking until the cold settles into your bones, making your teeth chatter with goosebumps prickling your arms. There’s a tense silence that envelopes you in your room.

You’ve done everything you could to stay off his radar: moved cities, started new social media accounts, hell, even gone as far as to block some of the official accounts when you spontaneously gained the courage to. You can’t bear to look at any of them, even when you promised yourself you’d do your best to be happy for him.

Well, you wouldn’t be the only one breaking promises, you think bitterly, sliding your headphones on and connecting them to your phone.

You hit play on the new single before you can convince yourself to do otherwise.

In another world, you like to imagine that things between you and Lee Jihoon would have worked out. That at the end of the day, you’d be the one he’d come home to after a long day at the studio, wired and in need of comforting cuddles and a relaxing evening.

He was your everything, and you were his. You still remember his shy, lingering glances growing up; his small smiles whenever you praised his ever-flourishing musical skills; the feeling of his lips at your shoulder, quick and gentle, before tugging you along to wherever your next adventure was.

Before he belonged to stress, before he was SEVENTEEN’s, Jihoon was yours.

You couldn’t tell if the selfishness you hated was yours or his.

The song is on its second run of the chorus now. You’re caught in place, feeling trapped in a wide open room, biting your lip with so much force your teeth cut into your gums and draw blood.

It’s breathtakingly heartbreaking, his voice.

When Jihoon told you he was being recruited to potentially become an idol, you were ecstatic. You knew deep down this is what he was made for; to create for those he loved, perusing his dreams with no end in sight. You had hugged him tight, peppering kisses to his cheeks and the beauty mark underneath his eye, showering him in good wishes.

What you weren’t ready for, however, was the news that you wouldn’t be able to continue seeing him. The exact words were lost to you, too tuned out to remember entirely. Something about the company being incredibly strict. Something about passing tests, about having incredible self-control and appeal to the media.

“What’s going to happen to us?” high-school you whispered hoarsely; you have the feeling of being held in his arms etched into your brain so effortlessly.

The post-chorus lyrics catch your attention and you choke back a cry. What kind of future comes before us?

“Wait for me,” he had promised. “I’ll become someone you can be proud of. You’re my future.”

You wanted to scream at him back then that you were already proud, that if no one in the world knew and saw and loved Lee Jihoon, it would mean you were wiped from existence. But you were young, and foolish, and you only nodded at him, hope shining in your eyes.

Jihoon left the next day, and you haven’t seen him since.

The headphones are ripped off your head the second the music stops and his voice fades. You furiously dab at your face, clutching your chest with your other hand like you could physically grasp at your heart to stop the bleeding.

But really, what’s there to do when the organ that pumps blood and love to the other parts of your body fails itself, baring your soul to the entire world in the process?

A tear hits the blanket. Then another. And another.

And then, so many more that you’re wiping ugly, thick snot away with your fingers, sobbing violently into your hands.

You hate him.

And fuck, you miss him.

When did the two become the same word?

wanna queue a song?

[junplusone]

WAHHHH I LOVE THIS SONG JAY

kwon soonyoung and i like me better by lauv :D

midnight into morning coffee burning through the hours talking damn, i like me better when i'm with you

wc <1k. warnings unedited as hell i’m so sorry, can be read as platonic or romantic! jay's musings where is MY late night highway drive with kwon soonyoung to who knows where, giggling about life and getting instant coffee from a convenience store??? (sorry i get very emotional about ksy he means so so much to me)

It is way too late for Kwon Soonyoung to be pulling up in front of your apartment, a crooked smile playing on his face and bass boosted RNB leaking from his car windows—but then again, the man never seemed one for being predictable during after hours.

You hop into the passenger seat with no hesitation, grinning. The worn out hoodie you had carelessly thrown on barely five minutes before is comfortable against your skin. It’s a little half past two in the morning, a yawn passing your lips, and Soonyoung annoyingly revs his engine before speeding out of your quaint neighborhood.

“Anywhere in mind?”

The roar of the car engine, coupled with the beat of the current Lauv song on, has you vibrating in your seat. You tug on the strings of your hoodie. “Let’s get coffee. I’m sleepy.”

He laughs as he pulls onto the highway. The night sky stretches out before you two, stars glittering through the horrid light pollution. The concept of cosmic beings still radiating their energy through humanity’s mistakes reminds you a little of you and Soonyoung’s relationship. It puts a smile on your face.

“Oh?” Soonyoung’s tone is teasing. “If we get coffee, you’ll be up until 8am and won’t wake until 5pm. Who’s supposed to go to the gym with me then?”

Crossing your arms, you lean back into the cushioned leather chair with a huff.

“Gym rat,” comes your affectionate jeer. “I’ll go to the gym with you tomorrow night. Easy solution.”

He laughs again, pressing on the gas, and your chest feels lighter.

The convenience store lights are bright; you have to squint a little when opening the doors. Soonyoung trails behind you, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a soft hum. He didn’t take the two of you to your usual convenience store, musing it would be a ‘fun adventure’ to go somewhere random instead.

It’s almost comical, how the two of you sidestep and move about each other as if in a dance only the other knows. You peruse the aisles with no destination in mind, twirling around to show Soonyoung your latest discoveries like a kid in a candy store, and he excitedly receives each one with little taps of his sneakers on the floor.

There’s a clerk in the row containing the instant coffee. They glance at the pair of you, under eyes prominent, nodding once before disappearing off to who knows where. Soonyoung tugs you along by the sleeve of your hoodie to gawk at the different brands of caffeine goodiness.

“Do you really think it matters which one we get?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

He gives you an incredulous look. “Do you or do you not want to experience a good caffeine high?”

You drink him in, standing underneath the fluorescent convenience store lights, hood up and baggy on his head. His eyes, the color of rich dark chocolate, are shining and leave you a little breathless. Soonyoung appears so… naturally here, as if he wouldn’t even dare to want to be anywhere else except beside you, arguing over what type of instant coffee to get at three in the morning.

“I’m entrusting my fate to you, Mr. Coffee Expert!”

Soonyoung giggles at your dedicated salute, returning the gesture with a determined look in his eyes. You watch as he pours over the different colorful packagings before delicately picking two off the shelf—they’re green and have iconography of tiny coffee mugs on them.

He dramatically bows, showcasing them to you in the palms of his hands. “My pick, your liege.”

You stifle a chuckle and swat him away. “I’ll have your head if this doesn’t suit my tastes.”

The man whips his head up, his lips forming a small ‘o’ before hastily turning around and making his way to the counter. You follow closely behind, this time doing nothing to hide your laugh.

You aren’t really sure how long you spend at the convenience store. At one point, after the purchases had been made, the two of you moved from inside the building to sitting in the front of Soonyoung’s car.

The styrofoam cup filled with convenience store water and instant coffee powder is still hot to the touch—even after allowing it to cool off for awhile—forcing you to give your hands relief by carefully balancing the scalding cup in your lap. Soonyoung, on the other hand, is sipping away like it’s a glass of cold water in the desert.

“You’re going to end up having more of a crash than I am,” you scoff, eying the way he now has to tilt his head back to finish off the drink. “What happened to gym plans later?”

He only shrugs. “We can always go later tonight like you said. Become night owls or something, like Jihoon.”

You hum in thought. The sky is taking on a lightened shade of blue, indicating the sun was due for its arrival soon in the next hour or so. Soonyoung cranks up the volume of the music to hear the chorus better; it’s the song from earlier, Lauv’s voice cutting through the comfortable lull.

As long as it’s with you, you want to say, I’m cool with anything. I feel better when I’m with you.

You take a long sip of your drink. The taste burns your tongue, but you barely feel it, too overrun by late-night emotions.

“As long as you don’t fall asleep on me,” is what you end up saying in substitute.

wanna queue a song?

[junplusone]

THIS IS PERFECT DOR DINO I ALWAYS LOVE HIM IN RIYALTY AUS AHHHHH

hiii! congrats on 100 followers!!! i have so many song ideas it was hard to narrow it down 😭 but can i request call it what you want by taylor swift with dino?

holding my breath, slowly i said you don't need to save me but would you run away with me?

wc <1k. warnings cursing, descriptions of death, war, attempts of assassination, allusions to religion. jay’s musings hihi lovely :) sorry this is so late ☹️ i totally get u LOL !! its so hard to choose ;_; songs are so inspiring! thank u for requesting smth hehe this event was for u bubs <33 hope u enjoy!

Your kingdom has fallen.

Sweat laces your skin. You had awoken only a little bit ago to a blade at your neck, the tip pointed and shining in the gleaming moonlight. Startled, you barely had a moment’s time to process the situation before the whizz of an arrow kisses the nip of your ear and hits its target dead on. The assassin falls to a heap on your bed without another sound.

Your head snaps to look behind you, and of course—

Chan.

He rushes to your side, the hood on his head falling down from his haste to reveal messy platinum hair and a scar etched into his temple. Chan runs his hands along your night robes with worry.

“We must hurry,” his voice is hushed, terrified. “That man may be the first to intrude, but certainly will not be the last.”

You stumble to your feet, the man’s fingers steadying you as you catch your breath. Chan wraps a coat around your shivering figure before peeking his head out the door of your lavished room.

Your stomach churns as you stare at him. “Chan, what is the meaning of this?”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye. Instead of answering, he beckons you forth with a flick of his fingers, and you find yourself tucked into his embrace within the next second.

“My liege,” Chan breathes into your ear; it’s warm and brings a shaky sigh to your lips. “Your father, he’s been assassinated in his sleep. The whereabouts of your mother are unknown. Your uncle—he has—”

Your gasp stops him in his explanation. Chan barely hesitates in pushing you behind him as another man bursts in through the open door, wielding daggers in both hands.

“You—” the way the unknown man snarls with so much venom has you pressing your fingers against your mouth to withhold a whimper. “You damned traitor. Look at you, protecting the blood you vowed to shed.”

Chan is silent. Though you can only see the back of his head, partially obscured by the hood of his coat, you can picture his eyes: narrowed to slits, tracking the man with utmost precision.

“Cat got your tongue, Dino?”

Before your eyes can flutter close to save you from the sight, Chan has the man’s own daggers dug deep into his chest, twisting the handles as if he was merely opening a bottle of rum. The man groans in pain.

Chan’s voice is sharp and cuttingly cold. “Do not refer to me as that vermin name ever again. That title is dead to me,” he spits; it lands on the dying man’s cheek harshly.

You wretch your eyes away, cowering behind your fingers and feeling your breathing grow heavier by the second. It isn’t until Chan’s hands are gently rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder blades that you open your eyes.

“Chan,” you sob. “Chan, what will I do? What will we do?”

The man leaves you to deadbolt the door to your room, returning after a moment to firmly grasp you by your shoulders. He begins to speak, sweet and soft, kissing your knuckles and murmuring what sounds like prayers. You realize that he is instead repeating your name.

“My liege,” Chan whispers; his lips are plush against your skin, such a contrast to the dried and bloodied callouses along his palms. “Forgive me for my past sins. I swear by the gods that you are the one I now pledge forever loyalty to.”

A tear slips past you. Chan watches it fall to the silk carpet, eyes glinting in the dim moonlight.

“Come away with me,” he murmurs. “Let us run free. We will leave this place for now—regroup with the others I truly call brothers and grow stronger until we can return you to your rightful throne.”

As he talks, he brings you to the doorway of your balcony, moving you so that you do not have to see the dead men that litter your room. The ceiling to floor curtains sway with the breeze.

Chan leaves you at the doorway to jump on the railing of your balcony. There’s an unsteadiness to his steps, looking at you with a plead that has you weak in the legs, your chest heaving with great effort.

His arm is outstretched, dark coat gently blowing in the wind. The moonlight encases him in a halo-like glow. You feel the pull in your knees, strong like the tide at the peak of a full moon, itching to sink to the ground and worship him.

“Shall we?”

It isn’t a question—it’s a promise. Shall we take back what they’ve stolen from you?

Your fingers brush his as your bare feet land on the cool paving of the railing. Chan’s hand tightens its grip on yours.

“I do not require a prince, nor a savior,” you answer shakily. “But I do require a god to believe in during this dark period ahead.”

He lets out a breath full of reverence.

“Then let us forgive our sins, and find peace within one another.”

wanna queue a song?

[junplusone]

your honor i’m seriously in love with him

19 found dead, hundreds in critical condition.

[junplusone]

I LOVE THAT THIS IS WHAT I WOKE UP TO this is so freaking adorable ugh i want to be loved like this

[ot13] 13 ways to say three little words

synopsis. | the words that seventeen use to say i love you.

♯ pairing(s). | seventeen x gn!reader (all separate) ♯ genre(s). | fluff, established relationships ♯ wc. | 1.5k ♯ warnings. | cursing (k.sy), eating habits (j.ww), insecure thoughts (l.jh), crying (x.mh), food mentions (k.mg, c.hs)

jay’s musings. | 🎧 my heart it beats for you - grent perez

001 — 🍒. Before you can even unfasten your seat belt, Seungcheol's door clicks shut and he's on your side of the car, his smile warming you up through the window. You immediately make a noise of protest, seeing the numerous grocery bags lining his arms. He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head as he opens the door for you. "Let me handle it." He knows you’re able to do it yourself, but why should you when he’s there, ready to help in less than a moment’s notice? (That, and he takes pride in the way your eyes savor his biceps.) You can pout all you want, sure, yet the man will just kiss your forehead, telling you that you can help him by unlocking the front door and making yourself comfortable inside.

002 — 🪽. “Come over here, please,” isn't as uncommon of a phase as you think it would be from Jeonghan. He's not one to beg—and would never admit to doing so in front of someone other than you—but there’s something about the way you bundle into the bedroom, dressed in nothing but his sweater, that makes his heart squeeze. His stomach does a cartwheel at your sleepy smile and the words tumble out of his mouth in a soft, lethally desirous whine. When you glance over at his request, the man’s lips are pursed, displeased at the fact that you aren’t currently curled into his side. Unfortunately for you, he won’t say anything more until you giggle and relent to his wishes, falling into his arms as he tells you just how much he’s missed you.

003 — 🦌. Joshua’s beaming smile greets you in your kitchen, his shining eyes drinking in the tiredness of your own. You must’ve woken up from a nap. “I was just thinking about you,” the man says while turning away from the stove with a mug in hand. It’s your favorite hot drink, still steaming with heat. You graciously thank him and soak in the warmth of the beverage. The patter of rain outside does nothing to help you wake up for productivity, and you know for a fact this won’t contribute anything to it, either. Even more so when he’s already guiding you to your cozy living room, his arm circling around your waist and asking what show you want to put on.

004 — 🐈. As the two of you hop into the taxi, hand in hand, Jun’s quiet question reaches your ears. “Sit next to me?” You still don’t really understand why he asks every single time, especially when it’s only you two traveling. But of course, you agree, and he sacrifices the window seat to sit in the middle, head already falling to your shoulder with a sleepy drawl. Your cheek rests against the man’s hairline as you gaze out the window. You’ll wake him up when you reach your destination, huffing that that’s the last time you’ll let him pull a dirty trick like that, but not before you press a soft kiss to his temple and intertwine your fingers with his.

005 — 🐯. When Soonyoung asks you if you had recently switched the brand of shampoo and conditioner you use, you have half the mind to tell him straight up how weird it is that he’s smelling your hair. He barks out a laugh at your comment, saying that it’s not his fault you have a certain aura, scent, and vibe to you that he would notice even the slightest amount of change. His laugh quickly fades when you ask just what the hell he could possibly mean. Face slowly warming at the incredulous way he stares at you, as if you had asked why the sky was blue, the man’s next words make you melt. “What are you talking about? I notice you all the time.”

006 — 🦊. It’s almost two in the afternoon when a takeout bag is placed down on the table next to you, the smell wafting from it suspiciously similar to your favorite food. “Have you eaten today?” Wonwoo’s question has you flinching, eyes blinking up and away from your computer for the first time in what feels like hours. His own eyes soften at your demeanor, pulling out the chair next to you and settling in before beginning to take the food and utensils out. The man doesn't say anything more about the topic, instead opting to give you little updates about his day. As you two eat together, he lets his thigh press against yours, and you indulge yourself—just this once. (Until he, like always, shows up again.)

007 — 🍚. The poem is short and sweet. You had wracked your brain all night trying to find the perfect words to encapsulate how you feel, but as you stand before Jihoon now, your nerves are on fire. You watch as his eyes take in the curves of your handwriting, silent. He probably thought these simple words were unoriginal. Boring. Cheesy. Meaningless. You’re snapped out of your self-deprecating thoughts when the man suddenly coughs loudly, hiding his reddening face beneath his hands. His tone is meek. “Ah, you’re really something, aren’t you?” But he’s grinning, and then his lips crash into yours with a desperation you’ve never felt from him until now.

008 — 🐸. Your vision is blurry, and you aren’t really sure where you are until Minghao’s soft, reassuring voice and soothing hand at your back are processed by your brain. “I’m here, I’m here,” he murmurs. You hiccup and cling to him, your sobs slowly subsiding. It’s a little hard to breathe for a while, but with his help you’re able to lean back against your cushioned couch without feeling like the world is crumbling around you. When the man goes to make you a cup of tea you beg him to stay with you, but he merely shakes his head, wiping away the tears on your streak-stained cheeks. “I’ll be right back, okay? Stay strong now. I believe in you.”

009 — 🐶. Rows of stocked shelves with various yummy foods do nothing to distract you from your goal. You tug on Mingyu’s sleeve and ask him if you two could have a certain food you’ve been craving lately for dinner. An apology is ready to spill right after, knowing he probably already had prior plans for what to cook, but he doesn’t even hesitate before turning into a different aisle where he knows the ingredients lie. You let out a little cheer that confuses and amuses the man all at once. Why are you even entertaining the idea of him saying no? It’s your world, and he’s just living in it. “Of course,” he hums when you thank him profusely. “Whatever you want.”

010 — ⚔️. In the dead of winter, Seoul’s city air is, quite frankly, freezing. The scarf covering your face, along with your mittens and thick winter coat, all feel like thin notebook paper against the biting winter wind. Seokmin, on the other hand, is snugly encased around your arm and giggling all the while during your walk. “You’re so warm!” he laughs, the man’s gloved hands digging into your clothes like you’ll float away if he isn’t careful. He doesn’t even have a hood on, and you scold him for this, to which he just hugs you tighter. A particularly harsh gust of wind threatens to topple you two over and he presses his face to yours, skin surprisingly toasty. “No, I’m okay, really. I mean, how can I be cold when I’m with you like this?”

011 — 🍊. Seungkwan fiddles with the photograph in his hands. “We knew each other too late.” His gaze is almost mournful, and it tears at your heart, resting your head on the man’s shoulder as you murmur that fate has its reasons. He huffs as he slides the photo—one of you and him from an outing, smiling with cheeks pressed against each other—into its placeholder that’s colorfully decorated with stickers and annotations in pen. Closing your shared scrapbook of memories, he lays his head on yours and speaks softly into the silence. “You don’t understand. I wish I could’ve known you longer. I wish I could’ve made more memories with you. I wish I had known you sooner.”

012 — 🐢. Your hand is already on the doorknob when you call out to Hansol that you’ll be going to run some errands. To your delight, the man is at your side immediately. “Okay. I’ll go with you.” He helps you pick out some bright red strawberries for the shortcake you want to try making tomorrow. He gives his opinion on what flowers would look best on your dining room table (spoiler alert: they’re white tulips). He even goes with you to the post office, standing in line for a whopping thirty seconds as you drop off your return package. On the way back to the car, you ask him what he wants to do next. He shrugs with an easy smile. “S’long as it's with you, I’m cool with whatever.”

013 — 🦦. “I knew you could do it!” Chan cheers, strong arms grabbing your waist to lift you up and spin you around. Your laughter is contagious, infecting him with your symptoms of pure adoration and a lightened heart. He places you gently on the ground, letting go for only a moment before his arms are enveloping you again in a hug. His comforting cologne fills your senses and you relax against his hold. Your body feels weightless, somehow, and any heaviness settled on your shoulders is gone as the man’s lips find the crown of your head. All the hard work, all the sleepless, worrisome nights led up to this moment—and you know you’d do it a thousand times over if given the chance to hear his euphoric words again.

#s — @etherealyoungk, @ylangelegy, @shinysobi, @heartepub, @junplusone, @fallminlove, @wheeboo. if you’d like to be notified when new releases drop, don’t hesitate to send in an ask! <3

[junplusone]

im literally screeching ok let me lose my mind in tags

what is love? | chs

Pairing: Chwe Vernon x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: What is love? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that it’s what you feel for Vernon Chwe. Unfortunately for you, you really didn’t know any better. It’s been 2 days since you confessed to your best friend that you love him, and it’s been 2 days since you’ve talked to him. Now you're hiding in the bridal suite of your friend's wedding, avoiding him.

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers

Tags: bridesmaid!reader, groomsman!vernon, insecure reader, jihyo appears, dino's getting married in this one lolz, intense pining, lots of internal spiraling, vernon's facial expressions get flamed, 2 kdrama fall moments, a little konglish w/ translations, a kiss, no "y/n"

Word Count: 6.3K

What is love? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that it’s what you feel for Chwe Vernon. Unfortunately for you, though, you really didn’t know any better, and now you’re facing the consequences of your actions. 

It’s been two days since you confessed to your best friend that you love him, and it’s been two days since you’ve talked to the man. Honestly, you have no one to blame but yourself, but you’ve convinced yourself that it’s everyone else’s fault for encouraging you. Maybe, if they hadn’t kept pushing you to confess to him—insisting that he definitely was into you—then you wouldn’t be in this position. 

Said position involves taking turns hiding in the bridal suite and bathroom of this wedding venue. In fact, you’re so committed to your act that you’ve practically become one with the shadows.

If anything, Vernon should be grateful that you’re going out of your way to avoid him. That way, he wouldn’t get bombarded with the secondhand embarrassment from remembering that horrible day. 

The only reason you’re here right now is because both Chan and his bride are close friends of yours, and you wouldn’t want to miss their wedding for the world. Plus, you’re also a bridesmaid. 

It was on you for blurting a disastrous confession to Vernon a few hours after the wedding rehearsal. 

But the bride and groom don’t even know that things have changed between the two of you. Given the chaos of wedding preparations, you withheld the fact that you and Vernon are going through a rough patch right now—if not the end of the friendship entirely. You didn’t want to add to their stress, but now you feel like you’re on fire. 

After all, Vernon is one of the groomsmen. What’s worse is, the wedding plans involve bridesmaids and groomsmen walking down the aisle in pairs, and you’d been placed with Vernon without a second thought. 

In other words, you’re completely screwed. 

“T-minus 20,” your friend and fellow bridesmaid Jihyo says, nudging your side. “We should go now.”

You feel a faint pulsing at the forefront of your head, a headache creeping up on you. God, what if when he sees you, he shakes his head and makes an X or something with his hands, insisting that he won’t walk down with you? What if he finds you physically embarrassing to be around, and just walks away? You’ve been running away from him all day, so it might not be a stretch to consider that he might have been trying to get away from you, too. 

You groan, scrunching the root of your hair, somewhat messing up your carefully curled hair. No, he wouldn’t just leave, that would ruin the wedding. He has too much love for Chan to do that to him. If he protests, he’d either do it subtly right before or confront you after it’s all over. 

You shut your eyes and take a deep breath. No one knows about your falling out except for you. And, well, Vernon, of course, but that’s not who you have to keep this secret from. You have to do your best to act normal and not at all like your heart is on the verge of bursting. 

“Has anyone ever died of embarrassment?” you suddenly ask, fingers dancing to find something to channel your nervous energy into. You fist a bit of the dress you’re wearing, then release it when you realize you can’t wrinkle the pretty material. “Shit.” You smooth over the fabric with shaky, sweaty hands.

“What is going on with you?” Jihyo’s eyes narrow as she looks you over. 

“I’ll tell you later,” you manage, bouncing your leg up and down. 

“Later, as in when?” 

“After the wedding,” you grit. You want to bury your face in your hands, but the expensive makeup gives you pause. You settle for lowering your head, staring listlessly at the white tiles on the ground. 

“Is this about what happened with Vernon?” 

You whip your head up. “You know?”

Jihyo slowly blinks, then deadpans, “Uh, yeah? A, both of you have been weird. The last time I saw you two not together was like, five years ago. And B, you’re literally the least subtle person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh,” you squeak, then quickly ask, “Wait, what do you think happened with Vernon?”

She stares blankly at you, as if the answer is obvious. “You confessed. He said nothing. You ran away.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, eyes growing comically large. Then, a frown replaces your shock. You don’t need to ask her how she knows. If anything, it just adds to the notion that even your other friends knew that he would’ve rejected you.

Jihyo sighs, coming over to the loveseat to sit next to you. She gives you a warm side hug, rubbing your back. “He’s a massive idiot. It’s gonna be okay. Let’s just get it together for the wedding, hmm?”

You swallow roughly, then nod. 

She continues, “Seriously, though. I’ve known Vernon for almost as long as you have. He’s not great at talking when he’s caught off guard—you know that, too.”

You blink at her words, the tiniest spark of hope igniting in your chest. But you quickly stamp it out, remembering the face he had made when you blurted out that you loved him.

Brows furrowed, open-mouthed, eyes wide, dead silent—he had to have been looking at you with disgust. That was the only way any sane person could decipher that look, really! There was no way that that face was the look of a man who was in love with you, as your friends have claimed.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say, wrinkling your mouth into a smile that anyone could tell was faked. “I’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, it’s not that deep. Just walk down the aisle with him. It’ll take 10 seconds, tops.”

You’re very sure she’s exaggerating, but you wave it off. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” she says dryly.

You glare at her. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good, that’s the right mentality,” she says, clasping your shoulders, shaking your upper body. “파이팅! [Fighting!]”

“해야지, [gotta do it,]” you mutter. 

Jihyo’s right. You’ll have to see Vernon anyway, so you might as well do it with as much dignity as you can scrap together. 

Except, the little dignity you have left demands some more time to procrastinate and linger in your regret.

Jihyo stands up from the couch, but you don’t. Your limbs feel impossibly heavy, as if they’ve been held down by a massive boulder.

You groan, “Just go without me, I’ll leave soon. I wanna go as late as possible.” 

Jihyo looks at you with what you can only describe as immense pity. “Okay. I’ll see you in five?” 

You nod numbly, watching her walk away to open the doors of the bridal suite. 

Vaguely, you can hear some absentminded chatter across the room from the hair and makeup artists, mother of the bride, and maid of honor, all crowded over the bride. It’s all but a buzz in the back of your mind, though, since you’re preoccupied with trying to convince yourself that you have it in you to face Vernon. Knowing you only have five minutes before needing to walk down the aisle with him, your mouth feels dry—too dry. 

At that realization, you force your heavy limbs to get up, then walk over the fancy rug to the table where a myriad of miscellaneous objects have been strewn about. You reach for your bag to take out your water bottle, but your hands falter when you look at the little keychain attached to the bag. 

It’s a silver charm bracelet you’ve repurposed as a bag charm. It has a turtle and retriever puppy on it, representing the animals you’ve viewed each other as being. Seeing the charms causes a pang of longing to cut deep into you, reminding you of how much you’ve missed him in the last two days. 

Could you ever forgive yourself for ruining your precious friendship? For getting too greedy, for asking for too much? 

Your hands grip the edge of the table roughly, searching for something to stabilize your body, which is dangerously teetering in the high heels you had convinced yourself you’d be able to walk properly in. You’d bought it because the color of the shoe perfectly matches your dress, but the razor thin heel is proving to be an issue. 

Subconsciously, your hand reaches out from the table corner to your bag, gently rubbing the golden retriever charm Vernon always said looked like you, and you’re hit with a sudden intense wave of sadness—but not for the confession. 

No, instead, you turn your regret to the insecure internal ramblings that have ravaged you lately. 

The earnest, bright eyes of the little puppy charm makes you conscious of the hollow ache spreading throughout your body. How could you have been so mean to your poor, fragile heart? 

Alright, maybe you and Vernon wouldn’t be friends anymore. Maybe you would have to live without seeing him ever again. 

But you’d have to live with yourself, and it wasn’t right to treat yourself like this. 

Technically, Vernon didn’t even say anything to you. He didn’t outright reject you just yet, and he certainly didn’t say you weren’t someone worthy of love. So it was completely unfair for you to jump to those conclusions yourself, putting words in his mouth. 

And most of all, it would be even more unfair to you, represented by this adorable puppy charm, to lose yourself to heartbreak. 

Straightening your back, your other hand reaches into your bag for your water bottle. Upon chugging the remainder of the water, you close your eyes, concentrating on making your pulse slow down. It works, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

You might have to live with the fallout of this confession, but you could also live with the truth. Loving Vernon wasn't a mistake, and it wouldn't feel like one, no matter how he responded. He deserved honesty, and you deserved to stand by it. Even if this was the end, you wanted to leave this part of your story knowing you'd done right by both of you. 

You nod to no one in particular, having made your mind up. After the wedding, you’ll go to him and be upfront about it all, bearing your soul to his response. 

For now, though, you’ll help him enjoy the wedding by continuing to stay out of his sight. If he can’t see you, he can’t get reminded of his need to reject you—which is important, of course, because you don’t want his memories of this wedding to be of you crying after he lets you down. 

With this renewed clarity, you steady yourself. Vernon doesn’t love you, and that’s okay. You’d do enough loving for the both of you.

────୨ৎ────

Vernon steps into the bridal suite, a thrum of nerves coursing through his veins. He’s spent the past half-hour searching for you in every nook and cranny of the venue, dodging curious glances and knowing jokes from the other groomsmen about his obvious distraction. Jihyo’s the one who finally pointed him in the right direction, murmuring something about how it’s been over five minutes, and how he’s the only one who can get you to show up.

When he sees you standing by the table, shoulders tense, your hands gripping the edge like it’s the only thing keeping you upright, his breath catches. There you are, beautiful and strong and fragile all at once, lost in your thoughts. His chest constricts. How did it come to this? How did the best thing in his life become the one thing he feels he’s on the verge of losing?

“Hey,” he says softly, taking a step forward, calling your name softly.

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice, and the sudden movement sends you teetering in your high heels. Eyes wide, you twist toward him, your balance faltering. “Vernon?”

It happens in a split second. One of your heels trips on the edge of the rug, and you stumble forward. Vernon darts forward instinctively, grabbing you just before you hit the ground. His arms wrap around you tightly, steadying you.

For a moment, everything stops. Leaning against his chest, you can hear his heartbeat, a frantic rhythm that matches your own. God, your near face plant must have scared him a lot?

But just as you start to regain your footing, your heel accidentally digs into his foot, and he lets out a yelp of pain. 

The abrupt shift in weight sends him off balance, and the two of you tumble onto the floor in a tangled heap.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Vernon’s crazy seagull call of a laugh cuts through the tension. 

It’s infectious, and before you know it, you’re both laughing, the sound filling the room. It’s ridiculous, it’s messy, and it’s the most alive you’ve felt in days.

When your body relaxes all of its tension, you realize that you’ve missed him with every fiber of your being. That something in you has been waiting for him, like you’ve been in withdrawal without hearing his laughter in the last two days. 

You’d planned on continuing to avoid him until the end of the wedding, so that he could enjoy his night without you, but that idea is crumbling right before your eyes. You might not be able to bring yourself to stay away from him any longer. 

And then, oh, then—the laughter fades, and you realize how close you are. 

Vernon’s face is inches from yours, his warm breath fanning across your skin. His eyes, dark and soft, hold a depth of emotion that makes your stomach twist. And for a fleeting moment, you think you see something raw and unguarded in his gaze—something that looks a lot like love.

Your chest tightens, and your thoughts spiral. No—it can’t be. What about his nauseated reaction the other day? 

You scramble to put distance between you, pushing yourself off him and stepping back hastily. Too hastily, really.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, smoothing down the fabric of your dress as if that will somehow restore your composure. “I didn’t mean to, I swear—”

“It’s okay,” Vernon says gently, sitting up. 

He reaches an arm out for you, but you’ve already retreated several steps, an apologetic smile plastered on your face.

“We should get going,” you say, your tone overly formal. “It’s almost time.” Without waiting for his response, you turn on your heel and stride toward the door, your movements stiff and hurried.

Vernon watches you go, his hand stiffly dropping to his side. He flexes it, then exhales sharply, frustration bubbling beneath the surface of his calm exterior. 

You’re running again, and he’s running out of time to fix this. 

Pushing himself to his feet, he follows you out of the suite, his long strides easily catching up to you.

The two of you arrive at the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen just as the coordinator starts organizing everyone into pairs. You avoid Vernon’s gaze, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. 

But when it’s your turn to step forward, he’s there, holding out his hand to you. 

It shakes a little, and your breath hitches when you notice a flash of silver on his wrist. It’s a charm bracelet, and it’s unmistakably the same one you’ve kept on your bag for years, the little turtle and retriever puppy charms glinting under the soft light. 

Surely not? 

Surely, he doesn’t?

Tentatively, you place your hand in his, your fingers trembling. His grip is familiar, warm, and steady, grounding you even as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you. 

As you walk toward the aisle together, you don't look at whoever you're supposed to be looking at, whether it's the officiant or the people clapping in the crowd. Instead, your eyes are trained on the jewelry peeking out of his sleeve, and how his hand feels so soft and warm and dependable against yours. 

Then, it suddenly occurs to you that maybe, just maybe, you saw it wrong that day. Maybe he wasn’t looking at you like he was appalled by your audacity to tell him your feelings. He might have actually really been confused, allowing for you to misinterpret his surprise for rejection. 

But as soon as the thought enters your mind, you dismiss it. False hope definitely wouldn’t do anything for your precious feelings. Especially when the hope was that Vernon, of all people, would love you as much as you love him.

Desperately avoiding eye contact with the man in question, you stare straight at the bridesmaid-groomsman pair in front of you. 

If Vernon loved you back, then he’d say it. He’d show it somehow, some day. Today wasn’t that day, and that’s okay. 

You’d be alright without him, eventually. Probably. Hopefully?

With that rationale, you do your best to ignore your trembling legs, burning ears, and constricting chest. The bride and groom deserve a perfect procession, and you would play your role well. 

────୨ৎ────

It was a beautiful ceremony. And, three hours into the reception, you’re proud to say that you’ve survived. Promptly after the procession, you separated from Vernon, finding refuge within the bridesmaid group. Ever since, you’ve flitted around different tables, dancing with random people, all in the name of protecting him from seeing you. 

You’re actually incredible at avoiding people, if you do say so yourself. Every time you’ve seen Vernon within 50 feet of your vicinity, you’ve grabbed someone new to dance with or talk to. And for especially close calls, you’ve dragged Jihyo into the bathroom. 

This time, though, you’re hiding in the bathroom without her. She’d finally refused to go with you for the nth time. The brat had thrown you to the wolves, essentially. No girl code—the nerve of her!

Patting down the roots and length of your hair, which had gotten a bit frizzy, you stare at yourself blankly in the mirror, watching a shiver run down your spine from the cold air-conditioning blasting in the small space. 

Despite your efforts to calm down, a heavy sigh escapes your mouth, your shoulders feeling far too heavy. What are you doing, hiding?

God, you love him so much. So much that you’re willing to dance around him so he doesn’t get reminded of you, so that he doesn’t worry about how to reject you all night, so that he can just enjoy the wedding. 

What even is love? 

You’ve heard that love is sacrifice, and if what you feel is really love, then, well. You’ll have to try not to love anyone but yourself from now on, because unrequited love is somewhat horrible. 

You’ll get over him someday, right? 

Right?

Before you can psych yourself out of leaving the freezing but rather safe haven that is the restroom, you march over to the door with a new mantra. You shake your shoulders and roll your neck, cracking the joints in your fingers. 

“I’ll get over it,” you murmur. “I’m over it. I’m over it! Over, over, over.” 

Pushing the door open, you continue rambling to yourself. “I’ll get over it. Over, over, over, over...”

“Over what?” comes a familiar voice.

Oh, shit.

Wide-eyed, you look up to see Vernon blocking your way past the bathroom and back into the hallway leading to the reception. 

“Oh,” you gasp, limbs frozen. your eyes flit back to the door to the women’s restroom again, contemplating ditching him cheaply (again). 

Vernon steps closer, his gaze softening as he notices your hesitation. His voice is low and gentle���too gentle—when he speaks, almost as if he’s unsure how to break the silence.

"Hey," he says softly, his hand reaching out, fingers brushing against your arm. "You don't have to hide from me, y’know."

You glance up at him, your adrenaline flowing through your veins. You want to back away, to keep putting distance between you, but something about his insistent stare makes your legs freeze.

"I know it's been awkward," Vernon continues, his words more measured now. "But I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just—I just want to talk." He brings his right hand up to his chest, like he’s swearing that he speaks the truth. 

You shake your head, your voice trembling. "You don’t have to. I don’t want to make things worse."

Vernon furrows his brows, stepping closer, as if he can’t bear to see you pull away from him again. "You think that running away will fix it? You think I want you to hide from me?"

You swallow hard, avoiding his eyes. "I don't know. This is all new to me."

"Then let me say it.” Vernon’s voice is strangled. "I don’t want to lose you, okay? I didn’t want it to happen like this, I…” His voice trails off as he clenches his fists, shutting his eyes tightly before opening them again. “Please don’t think I shut you down, I just—I needed some time to process everything. I care about you a lot—so much more than I know how to show, sometimes. Or,” he huffs with red-rimmed eyes, “a lot of the time."

A silence settles between you, thick and heavy, but Vernon doesn’t seem to notice. He looks at you with downturned, shining eyes, and you feel your defenses slowly start to crumble. 

You’ve never seen him so devastated. 

"Come here," Vernon says softly, his arm reaching out to tug you closer, now fully clinging to your side. "Please don’t keep running. Please?” He says the last word like it’s a prayer—and, oh, is it a powerful one.

Every part of your body stiffens, caught off guard by how warm he is, then immediately relaxes at how gently he’s holding you, as if you would break if he held on any tighter.

"Please don’t run from me anymore," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You think you could melt into his arms, and it takes everything within you to trust him, to not back away like you have for the past two days. With each passing second, you feel your spine relaxing and leaning into his touch. Then, in the midst of your relaxation, it occurs to you that he’s awaiting your reply.

But before you can answer his pleas, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes through the hallway. Jumping apart like fugitives before the law, you both turn to see Jihyo skidding around the corner, her face flushed with panic.

“There you are!” she exclaims, eyes wide. “The bouquet toss is about to happen! Get over here!” 

Before you can even blink, Jihyo grabs your wrist, pulling you away from the delicate warmth of Vernon’s embrace. 

“Now!” she shouts. 

You twist your back around to send him a helpless look, and all he gives you is an encouraging nod and the cutest, awkward little wave. You see the sincerity in his boyish smile, which makes your chest feel tight, as if all the air had been sucked from the room. It’s bad enough for your delicate heart. But then, most wickedly, you catch the adorable, anxious eagerness in his crinkled, watery eyes—and, oh, it really is all over for you, isn’t it?

You really won’t be able to love anyone else, will you? 

There is no “getting over” Chwe Vernon.

The last threads of your resolve crumble as you follow Jihyo. You barely register the steps that lead you back into the grand reception hall. She has a vice grip on your wrist, tugging you along with such urgency that your shoes almost trip you on the way inside. The room hums with energy, and you can’t help but feel out of place in the frenzy of people excitedly whispering and glancing toward the front.

Everyone has gathered in a semi-circle, eager faces all pointed at the bride, who is holding the bouquet high above her head. Your pulse is speeding up by the second, but it’s not for the reason the other single women are likely nervous for. All you can think about is how you’ve been dragged here with nothing but the love you have for Vernon—a deep, endless kind that threatens to burst out of you in a wildly embarrassing public display of affection.

"You're gonna be fine," Jihyo says with a grin, though it’s a little too wide, too bright. You’re not sure if she’s referring to the Vernon fiasco or the bouquet toss, but you force a smile back at her anyway.

"Sure I am," you mumble under your breath. 

She doesn’t hear you, or if she does, she doesn’t acknowledge that she heard it. She’s already turned her attention back to the bride, her arm brushing yours as she steps forward, positioning herself with the other women who are trying to catch the bouquet.

You stand awkwardly behind her at the edge of the crowd of single women, feet shuffling, heart still pounding from your conversation with Vernon.

Then, the live orchestral music shifts, and you feel a slight weight in your stomach, despite knowing the chances of the bouquet toss heading your way is slim to none. Still, it’s happening now, and you’re now on the single ladies floor, so there’s no backing out.

When you shift your back to brush away some of the hair obscuring your vision, you make eye contact with the very man who has been occupying your every thought this evening. Vernon had probably followed you and Jihyo as she pulled you away, since he’s now standing near you. And, oh, he’s close—only an arm’s distance or so away from you, standing at the front of the larger crowd. 

The closer the moment of the throw gets, the harder it is to ignore his burning presence. He’s standing with a group of other men who are watching the floor full of gorgeous, single women, but his attention is entirely on you. 

A subtle smile plays at the corners of his mouth, and the air between the two of you suddenly feels too thick. You have so much to say to him, and you don’t know how to get it all out in an eloquent way. 

But your deliberation of what to say to him is cut short by the screams announcing that the bouquet has launched into the air. 

You lift your chin up, squinting as the light of the chandeliers temporarily blinds you. By the time you blink away the flashing spots in your vision, you see the trajectory of the bouquet. 

It arcs high above the crowd of waiting women, catching the light as it spins toward the back—toward you! If you don’t move, the bouquet will crash into your face. 

Your arms instinctively reach for the flowers, reaching beyond what you’d thought was capable for yourself. But the second after your back stretches and feet jump to accommodate the move, your left heel completely gives out, sending your balance completely off-kilter.

Your arms flail uselessly as your ankle sharply twists, and the world tips sideways. The air rushes past your face, cold and sharp, and you brace yourself for impact—ready to collide utterly gracelessly with the hard floor. But before gravity can win, a pair of strong hands clamps around your waist, arresting your fall with a jarring yet steady pull.

The warmth of his touch spreads like wildfire through the thin fabric of your dress, grounding you in an instant. Vernon’s hands are firm, almost possessive, his grip both steady and urgent, like he’s afraid to let go.

Your chest presses against his, the faint thud of his heartbeat syncing with the chaotic rhythm of your own. His scent hits you next—a subtle mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him, crisp and comforting all at once. The tension in your body melts slightly as his arms secure you closer, your trembling legs finding balance in his hold.

“Hey,” he says, his breath fanning across the shell of your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine, his words calming and electrifying in equal measure.

Your fingers instinctively clutch at the lapels of his jacket, the soft fabric brushing against your palms, anchoring you to reality. His thumb brushes lightly against your side, the touch barely noticeable yet searing, and the warmth from his body radiates into yours like a shield against the world.

Slowly, he adjusts his grip, one hand sliding to the small of your back, the other ghosting against your shoulder as he steadies you on your feet. The gentleness of his movements is stark against the adrenaline roaring in your ears.

When you finally look up, your breath catches. His face is so close—closer than you were when you fell in the bridal suite, closer than you’ve ever been before. Close enough to see the individual strands of his long lashes, to see the beautiful shimmer in his brown eyes. His eyes, wide and searching, lock onto yours, the emotions swirling in their dark depths rendering you speechless.

“I’ve got you,” Vernon says, his voice barely more than a whisper, but the words reverberate through you like an earthquake. “다친데 없어? [You’re not hurt, are you?]”

You shake your head without much thought, the back of your neck and your ears burning up at how tender his touch is. 

His fingers linger at your waist, the subtle pressure of his touch still burning against your skin. Even as he pulls away just enough to give you space, the absence of his warmth feels like a loss you’re not ready to accept. Without thinking, your hand darts out, fingertips brushing against the sleeve covering the charm bracelet you saw during the procession.

And that’s when you notice the bouquet—clutched awkwardly in your other hand, its delicate petals trembling just as much as you are. The flowers are slightly askew from the near disaster, and it all comes crashing down on you. 

You wince at the ridiculous public scene you’ve made, but the smile that spreads across Vernon’s face is enough to make you forget about everything, humiliation be damned.

“Perfect,” he says softly, though you can hear the teasing edge in his voice. “You got it, princess.” 

Princess, the joke he started calling you after Disney movie marathons in which you mocked the main characters always needing men to save them—you were definitely having a princess moment right now.

Vernon reaches to brush a strand of hair out of your face, and you feel your cheeks heat from the decidedly intimate nature of his touch. 

And that’s when the room erupts. 

Cheers fill the space as the guests begin clapping, laughing, and shouting in celebration. You see Chan whistle, while his newlywed wife shouts, “Finally!” The noise surges around you, but you can’t focus on anything except the way Vernon is looking at you.

He’s looking at you like you’re the only one in the room, like you’re the only one he can see.

He’s looking at you in the same way you look at him.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare past his shoulders to see the waiting eyes of the entire room. It’s as though they’ve known all along, most having been there to see the constant teasing, the not-so-secret glances exchanged, and the tension that’s been building for what feels like ages. Everyone knew before you two did, really.

The realization hits you all at once, and a nervous laugh escapes you. You’re caught in the act—the act of love—and there’s no denying it. 

You exchange an uncertain look with Vernon, and something flickers in his eyes. It’s something deeper, like the three words you told him two days ago, only to be met with silence.

“Looks like it’s fate, huh?” you joke weakly, shaking the bouquet, trying to regain some control over the situation. 

But Vernon doesn’t laugh. His expression just softens, and his voice is so, so deep when he speaks, it’s barely audible over the noise of the guests. “Y’know, you don’t have to joke your way out of this.”

You swallow hard, but before you can respond, he steps closer to you, his gaze unwavering, presence overwhelming. He reaches for your hand, gently pulling it into his, where it fits just so, and the warmth of his touch sends a wave of electricity through you.

“You know I’ve been looking for you, right?” Vernon continues, his voice slightly choked, making your chest tighten. “All day. All day, yesterday and today. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything that day. It wasn’t because I didn’t care, I do,” he pauses, tightening his grasp on you. “It’s because I care too much, really.”

Your breath hitches. What is he saying? Your brain is practically numb from the excessive overthinking you’ve been doing for the past two days. He needs to just spell it out.

“What?”

Vernon exhales a short laugh, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands, buried deep in his coat pockets, tense visibly as his shoulders lift slightly. “I feel like you don’t get it,” he says softly, the words teetering on the edge of vulnerability.

Your heart skips a beat. “Get what?”

He looks at you—really looks at you, staring intensely into your eyes, weighing whether or not to say the next part. His jaw tightens for a brief second, the muscle flexing as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He pulls a hand out of his pocket, raking it through his hair. His fingers linger at the nape of his neck before dropping back to his side, curling loosely as though they’re bracing for impact.

“That I’m here for you,” Vernon says, his voice barely above a whisper. He steps closer, not quite closing the distance but close enough that you can feel the addictive heat radiating off of him. “That I’ve always been here for you. And not…” He clenches and unclenches his fists. “Not just as a friend.”

Your breath hitches, and you feel his gaze flicker to your lips for the briefest moment before darting back to your eyes. His own are wide, filled with uncertainty but also a quiet kind of determination.

He shifts again, this time slipping his other hand out of his pocket and holding it out, palm up, like an offering. His fingers twitch slightly, betraying his nerves, and you notice a faint redness creeping up his neck, the telltale signs of his composure cracking.

“I didn’t say anything sooner because…” His voice trails as he bites the inside of his cheek, eyes dropping to the ground. When he looks up again, his expression is raw and completely unguarded. “Because I didn’t want to mess things up. But I can’t keep telling myself I don’t feel this way. I’m sorry I’m so late.”  

Your chest tightens as his words settle over you, finally registering the weight of them.

“Please don’t get over me,” he says all at once, breathlessly. His eyes are shining, his gaze ever so hopeful.

His hand lingers in the space between you, waiting, hoping.

“Please?”

You stare at his outstretched hand in disbelief, limbs locked by pure shock. Is this real? 

You can feel the effort it’s taking for him to stay still, his thumb twitching every few seconds like he’s fighting the urge to pull away and retreat.

When you don’t immediately respond, Vernon exhales shakily and starts to pull his hand back, his lips parting as if to apologize. 

But before he can, your fingers move instinctively, brushing against his.

The contact is brief, but it’s enough to make him freeze. His eyes snap to yours, widening as if he doesn’t quite believe what just happened. Slowly, hesitantly, his fingers curl around yours, the warmth of his touch steadying you as much as it does him.

“I mean it. I don’t want you to move on, because I love you,” he says shakily. “I’m in love with you, and I don’t know if you still feel that way for me, but… I need you to know how I feel.”

In the depths of his eyes, you see the vulnerability he’s always tried to hide, the intensity of the emotions he’s been holding back for so long.

And it’s as if the whole room vanishes, leaving just the two of you standing there. The bouquet is forgotten, and so are the guests, their cheers having long faded into the background.

Your heart feels as though it’s about to explode from your chest, but the words spill out before you can think. “I love you, too.”

Vernon brightens, eyes lighting up his, his grin stretching from ear to ear, and you fold. He’s handsome and sweet and a little awkward and brilliant—and yours.

Before your next breath, he’s leaning forward, closing the distance between you. 

His lips meet yours in a kiss so soft, so gentle, that you barely feel it at all. Impatient, you eagerly lift your chin up for more of him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss—oh, is it something to live for. You never want to let go. He tastes like chocolate and feels both firm and tender. He’s a dream come true—your very own prince, if you’re the princess. 

It feels like the world has finally clicked into place. You and Vernon are on the same page, and it’s indescribable, really.

When the roaring in your ears subsides, you hear some wolf whistles, and you suddenly realize where you are. You barely bring yourself to pull a few inches away from him, laughing softly, and he smiles, his eyes sparkling with so, so much warmth and love. It’s all for you. And you realize that here, in his arms, you feel full. You feel so warm, so cared for.

This, this is love. 

Author's Note: he's a bit of a loser in this, but i think he made up for it

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone

[junplusone]

— grieving someone who is still breathes is a tragic fate for a relationship

at times i think of you; your hands and the way they held mine. your smile and your laugh and how it would be never ending (mine, too) when we were together. your voice and the way it said my name.

and these things still exist. you still exist.

but you are gone. i can no longer reach you.

sometimes, its my fault; my voice sings, high and lonely on its own in the practice room, aching for the melody of your piano that used to accompany it until late in the early morning. other times it is yours; the tapping of your pen on the library table, hushed whispers and giggles from us as you teach me math, you not paying attention and the pen inevitably rolls off the table from neglect.

but worst of all is when it is both you and i who are at fault.

that night, after seven months of not talking (seven is supposed to be a lucky number, you know) we laid bare before each other in an unfamiliar way. you were used to the sharp edges of my brain and the soft curves of my waist; i was used to the firm weight of your chest and the comforting sound of your voice.

but that night the honesty dripped from our words, raw and fresh from the honeycombs. the concepts we talked about were triggering, scary, brutal. laid between us as obstacles to face together after fighting alone for so long. at the end you dropped your sword and i let my bow clatter to the floor and we embraced and i had never felt safer.

and i am scared.

i am scared of opening up my heart back up to you (our chat screen is always open) i am hopeful of what this means for the future (my stomach churns at the thought of being near you) i am scared of us. i am scared of us. i am scared of us.

but am i scared of grieving more?

[junplusone]

seventeen as engineering majors

notes: hi i have nothing to say for myself except this is partially @imujings's fault and also my self indulgence so here we go (can you tell what my major is..... lol)

warnings: ehh swearing, i namedrop companies, eng jargon

-

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - civil engineering

if you know, you know

is very proud of his program despite all the jokes (he shouldn't be) sorry im biased

"we're better than the meches"

never had to take dynamics in his LIFE omg

100% has a poster of the golden gate bridge on his wall and gets made fun of for it

is convinced one day when he's making bank and jeonghan is jobless he'll finally be vindicated

YOON JEONGHAN - mechanical engineering

did have to take dynamics & almost failed it

(he's smart, he was just too lazy to submit any of the homework that was also worth 60% of his grade)

gets salty at career fairs when most of the employers are construction companies

competing with the 24853874534 other meches for class sections

leaning into the "jack of all trades master of ????"

has a superiority complex over the aeros

HONG JOSHUA - computer engineering

should have just been a cs major tbh

compe is the bottom of the engineering food chain

but nobody has the heart to tell him that bc he's too kind

hangs out with the likes of yoon jeonghan but still never skips class

wants to create his own video game

probably got an internship at a fortune 100 company

has hella connections and WILL ask them to nepo you too bc he's that nice

WEN JUNHUI - aerospace engineering

has had enough of the lockheed martin jokes

does NOT !!! wanna work in defense he's a sustainable fuel guy

spacecraft development companies pleaseeee hire him

lets the meches have beef w him bc he dgaf what they think, but gets annoyed when they start competing w him for jobs

sidequest king (double minor in math & ecology AND he wants to try his hand at law school???? wtf)

locks in so freaking hard when he has to but is just silly otherwise - he's that student you never see studying but then they ace the exam

KWON SOONYOUNG - chemical engineering

is the one making lockheed martin jokes in front of junhui

but definitely picked cheme because someone told him he can make bombs

had to retake orgo twice but then passed inorganic chemistry with flying colors

academic wild card #1

always ends up with 8:30s bc he never wakes up on time for class registration

#1 merck worshipper pls hire him omg

LEE JIHOON - computer engineering

is at the bottom of the engineering food chain, but unlike joshua he knows & owns it

is a cs minor so it's slightly more excusable

probably has hella shit on github

definitely following more companies on linkedin than he has connections

double major in music production & plays clarinet in the pep band

you will never see him without his headphones on

JEON WONWOO - electrical engineering

actually very strongly dislikes that electrical & comp are grouped together as ece

likes the versatility of his major

probably never had a single morning class in his life

def came into college proficient in a bunch of programming languages

sits at the back of the lecture hall

never ever studies outside of his dorm bc he likes using his huge desk monitor

KIM MINGYU - biomedical engineering

so sick of every single person he meets assuming he's a premed student

has definitely accidentally broken flasks in his bio lab

was so elated when he found out orgo isn't a graduation requirement

always ALWAYS studies w a whiteboard

is one of the only guys in bme

you can always find him cooking up some food in the dorm's communal kitchen, he's always down for a conversation

LEE SEOKMIN - environmental engineering

minor in sustainability, he's an environmentally conscious sweetie pie!

the dream project groupmate

is one of like 15 people in his graduating class

wants to research water treatment technologies

"did you know using chatgpt is harmful to the environment?"

and he's right !!!!

took organic chemistry for fun and aced it even though mingyu warned him it would tank his gpa

XU MINGHAO - chemical engineering

really wants to work in the fragrance industry

always smells good, you'll never catch him lacking

another one of those people where you don't see them study ever but they still coast through classes

gets distracted when he's drawing out chemical compounds bc he tries too hard to get the lines perfect

and then starts sketching something else

second most nastiest side eye

BOO SEUNGKWAN - industrial & systems engineering

y'all know this man did not wanna do any work (jk i love my ise majors)

business admin double major & he's reaaaally good at it

everyone's jealous of the way he charms all the employers at the career fair how do u even do that like???

very intelligent but hated every calc class he had to take

always studies in the business building

nastiest side eye EVERRRRRR do not say anything stupid in front of him please he will vaporize you

CHWE HANSOL - materials science & engineering

walter white in the making

declared a chemistry minor and then never took the required classes

really enjoyed crystal chem

profs have a hard time grading his hw cause his handwriting lowkey looks like chicken scratches

the absolute chillest during finals week but nobody knows if it's because he studied way in advance or because he didn't study at all

academic wild card #2

such an 'it is what it is' guy tbh...

LEE CHAN - packaging engineering

ppl look confused when he tells them his major

is in it for the near 100% job placement

has a great time in all of his classes because they're so fun and the class size is like 8 kids

doesn't fully know what he wants to do later in life but he'll figure it out later

carpe diem kinda guy

wants to intern at a cosmetics company really really bad so he can take sample products home to his mom

let me know if u enjoyed this hehe :)

[junplusone]

bro i fell asleep before this was posted like absolutely KNOCKED tf out my roommate thought i was dead

Of course I am requesting emidiatly...

What kind of future by Woozi... with Woozi 🫡

I apologize in advance. Feel like this one is gonna be an agaty one.

although i don't wanna see you, i miss you although i hate you, i miss you i don't understand myself so well

wc <1k. warnings angst, cursing, missed chances, childhood friends to lovers to ??? jay’s musings (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) …

You’ve been avoiding your phone all day.

You saw the notifications from high school friends, got the pings on various social medias. Twitter has been going particularly insane about the news, SEVENTEEN’s producer trending with edits of his raw vocals turning into a fully furnished song.

After what felt like the hundredth message from your best friend, telling you to just listen to the goddamn lyrics damnit, you promptly put your ringer on silent and slipped your phone into your bag without a backwards glance.

Trudging into your apartment bedroom, you fall onto your comforter, tears caught in the back of your throat. You hated how you instantly knew what the song was about when you saw the title.

Like, come on—What kind of future? Could he be anymore obvious?

Your eyes subconsciously trail to the sticker-decorated headphones lying on your desk. They taunt you, promising secrets that only you would be allowed to unlock via the key of childhood memories. You huff and sit up.

Fine. You’ll listen to the damn song.

You don’t even realize your body is shaking until the cold settles into your bones, making your teeth chatter with goosebumps prickling your arms. There’s a tense silence that envelopes you in your room.

You’ve done everything you could to stay off his radar: moved cities, started new social media accounts, hell, even gone as far as to block some of the official accounts when you spontaneously gained the courage to. You can’t bear to look at any of them, even when you promised yourself you’d do your best to be happy for him.

Well, you wouldn’t be the only one breaking promises, you think bitterly, sliding your headphones on and connecting them to your phone.

You hit play on the new single before you can convince yourself to do otherwise.

In another world, you like to imagine that things between you and Lee Jihoon would have worked out. That at the end of the day, you’d be the one he’d come home to after a long day at the studio, wired and in need of comforting cuddles and a relaxing evening.

He was your everything, and you were his. You still remember his shy, lingering glances growing up; his small smiles whenever you praised his ever-flourishing musical skills; the feeling of his lips at your shoulder, quick and gentle, before tugging you along to wherever your next adventure was.

Before he belonged to stress, before he was SEVENTEEN’s, Jihoon was yours.

You couldn’t tell if the selfishness you hated was yours or his.

The song is on its second run of the chorus now. You’re caught in place, feeling trapped in a wide open room, biting your lip with so much force your teeth cut into your gums and draw blood.

It’s breathtakingly heartbreaking, his voice.

When Jihoon told you he was being recruited to potentially become an idol, you were ecstatic. You knew deep down this is what he was made for; to create for those he loved, perusing his dreams with no end in sight. You had hugged him tight, peppering kisses to his cheeks and the beauty mark underneath his eye, showering him in good wishes.

What you weren’t ready for, however, was the news that you wouldn’t be able to continue seeing him. The exact words were lost to you, too tuned out to remember entirely. Something about the company being incredibly strict. Something about passing tests, about having incredible self-control and appeal to the media.

“What’s going to happen to us?” high-school you whispered hoarsely; you have the feeling of being held in his arms etched into your brain so effortlessly.

The post-chorus lyrics catch your attention and you choke back a cry. What kind of future comes before us?

“Wait for me,” he had promised. “I’ll become someone you can be proud of. You’re my future.”

You wanted to scream at him back then that you were already proud, that if no one in the world knew and saw and loved Lee Jihoon, it would mean you were wiped from existence. But you were young, and foolish, and you only nodded at him, hope shining in your eyes.

Jihoon left the next day, and you haven’t seen him since.

The headphones are ripped off your head the second the music stops and his voice fades. You furiously dab at your face, clutching your chest with your other hand like you could physically grasp at your heart to stop the bleeding.

But really, what’s there to do when the organ that pumps blood and love to the other parts of your body fails itself, baring your soul to the entire world in the process?

A tear hits the blanket. Then another. And another.

And then, so many more that you’re wiping ugly, thick snot away with your fingers, sobbing violently into your hands.

You hate him.

And fuck, you miss him.

When did the two become the same word?

wanna queue a song?

[junplusone]

wow i need to be loved like it’s as easy as breathing when is it my turn im screaming

you make my dreams hall & oates and seungkwan :)))

what i've got's full stock of thoughts and dreams that scatter then you pull them all together, and how i can't explain

wc <1k. warnings cursing, talk about Growing UpTM. jay’s musings i’m going to rip my hair out this req is so CUTE pls and it fits boo so well :(( also just gives vibes of growing up in love :( also. this is a Formal Apology to everyone who read my bsk birthday angst. please receive it well LOL

“You only got one?”

Seungkwan juts his bottom lip out in a pout when you plop down next to him on the scorching hot patio. The mango Melona you unwrapped inside is already melting, sticking to your fingers with sweet syrupy goodness.

“I only have one, dumbass. Told you this before I went in to get it.”

A cicada buzzes somewhere in the vicinity behind Seungkwan and he yelps, hands flying to your arm for security. You scoff as the cream popsicle almost tumbles off its stick.

“Yah, be careful of where you’re putting your hands, ‘Kwan,” you complain.

The boy mumbles a sorry, slowly releasing your forearm. Even though a heatwave’s currently raging on in your city, there’s a slight pang in your heart at his touch disappearing, like you’ve lost part of him you can’t get back.

To compensate for the loss, you offer him the rest of the Melona, watching in amusement as he side eyes you before taking it in his nimble fingers.

The unbearable high temperatures have left you and your bestfriend bored, to say the least. Air conditioning in your area only worked so well, leaving the two of you having to escape outside as a last resort and hope the breeze was enough to fan your faces. You’re sporting your thinnest tee; Seungkwan his most revealing tank.

You lazily crack a smile at him when he finishes the popsicle without needing to be told twice. Silence swallows you two, not unlike the summer heat—but in contrast, the lull is tolerable. Welcomed, even.

As much as you adored talking about senseless things and the boy next to you adored shaming you for said senseless things, these comfortable moments of quiet were some of your favorites. It was incredibly (albeit surprisingly) easy to relax around Seungkwan. While others might preach that it’s hard to let walls down once built, you aren’t even sure if you laid down a foundation for your bestfriend, letting him into your life like it was second nature.

Sometimes, people squeeze into your life to take up space in the missing cracks that leak emptiness. Other times, they slot in perfectly like the space was personally hand-crafted for them to take up.

You like to think Seungkwan fits the latter description pretty nicely.

The sun beats down mercilessly on your face. You close your eyes, praying to whatever higher up power there is for even a hint of wind.

“How many more times d’ya think we’re gonna get to do this?” Seungkwan suddenly asks.

His question has your eyes fluttering open to look at him. Seungkwan’s hair sticks to his forehead, his cheeks rosy from the humidity. His lips, slightly shiny from ice cream residue, are pursed in thought. The briefest, fleeting idea of swiping the glossiness away with your thumb takes root in your mind.

You dig it up and throw the seedling away.

Your name being said startles you, and you blink hurriedly. “Hm?”

“Were you even listening to me?” Seungkwan whines in exasperation. “You’re such a fake friend.”

“Excuse me, who just shared their last mango Melona with you?”

“That’s besides the point!”

Your laughter is as bright as the beaming sun. Seungkwan’s breath hitches from beside you and you bump his shoulder with a giggle.

“Why’re you asking that like we’re gonna die in the next few days?” you tease. “It’s not like the world is ending or something.”

Your bestfriend hesitates. Inches his fingers closer to yours on the patio. “I mean like, college is starting soon. We’re going to different universities. We won’t have time for each other anymore. How many more moments are we gonna get like this where the only thing we’re worried about is feeling cool?”

“I’m always cool,” you wryly grin. Seungkwan hits your shoulder and you fake a wail.

“You are so childish.”

Ah. There it is. The underlying, nervous chatter in his voice that makes you want to swaddle him in your arms until his breath steadies. Sitting up straighter, you rest your hands in your lap, picking at a scab you had gotten a few days back from wandering in the woods with Seungkwan. A soft hum escapes you.

“I don’t think anything will change,” you reassure solemnly.

You can tell the boy is biting the inside of his cheek from how the side of his face slightly sucks in on itself. “How can you tell?”

“Easy,” you reach over and tap the threaded bracelet Seungkwan wears on his right wrist; it’s woven together with little glass beads that remind you of his eyes in the light. “Does your bracelet break every time you wear it out?”

He looks at you weirdly. You only smile.

“I’m with you, no matter if I’m a little damp from a shower or a little worn out from a harsh outing. It’s like how water is wet and grass is green. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west and I’m your bestfriend.”

You reach over again, this time taking a hold of his hand. He entwines your fingers together with no hesitation.

“I guess you’re right,” Seungkwan swings your hands back and forth to the beat in his head—his fingers are a little clammy from the heat, but you don’t mind. “But bracelets can still be broken if tugged on hard enough.”

His hand slides downwards, taking interest in the matching bracelet that wraps around your own wrist. You grin at him once more.

“Well, they can always be remade, yeah? Who says you can’t create something all over again, as long as you put equal parts effort and love into it?”

The sun’s rays catch the glass beads just right, twinkling like stars, and Seungkwan’s lips twitch upwards into a wide smile.

wanna queue a song?

[junplusone]

ARE YOU SERIOUS i am such a sucker for this kind of trope you have no idea dude

[teaser] what is love? | chs

Pairing: Chwe Vernon x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: What is love? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that it’s what you feel for Vernon Chwe. Unfortunately for you, you really didn’t know any better. It’s been 2 days since you confessed to your best friend that you love him, and it’s been 2 days since you’ve talked to him. Now you're hiding in the bridal suite of your friend's wedding, avoiding him.

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers

Tags: bridesmaid!reader, groomsman!vernon, insecure reader, jihyo appears, dino's getting married in this one lolz, intense pining, lots of internal spiraling, 2 kdrama fall moments, a little konglish w/ translations, no "y/n"

Word Count: 4.8K (full)

Full Version: January 25

What is love? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that it’s what you feel for Vernon Chwe. Unfortunately for you, though, you really didn’t know any better, and now you’re facing the consequences of your actions. 

It’s been two days since you confessed to your best friend that you love him, and it’s been two days since you’ve talked to the man. Honestly, you have no one to blame but yourself, but you’ve convinced yourself that it’s everyone else’s fault for encouraging you. Maybe, if they hadn’t kept pushing you to confess to him—insisting that he definitely was into you—then you wouldn’t be in this position. 

Said position involves taking turns hiding in the bridal suite and behind the extravagant display tables your friends have scattered throughout their wedding venue. In fact, you’re so committed to your act that you’ve practically become one with the shadows.

If anything, Vernon should be grateful that you’re going out of your way to avoid him. That way, he wouldn’t get bombarded with the secondhand embarrassment from remembering that horrible day. 

The only reason you’re here right now is because both Chan and his bride are close friends of yours, and you wouldn’t want to miss their wedding for the world. Plus, you’re also a bridesmaid. 

It was on you for blurting a disastrous confession to Vernon a few hours after the wedding rehearsal. 

What’s worse is that the bride and groom don’t even know that things have changed between the two of you. Given the chaos of wedding preparations, you withheld the fact that you and Vernon are going through a rough patch right now—if not the end of the friendship entirely. You didn’t want to add to their stress, but now you feel like you’re on fire. 

After all, it just so happens that Vernon is one of the groomsmen. Worse, the wedding plans involve bridesmaids and groomsmen walking down the aisle in pairs, and you’d been placed with Vernon without a second thought. In other words, you’re completely screwed. 

“T-minus 20,” your friend and fellow bridesmaid Jihyo says, nudging your side. “We should go now.”

You feel faint. God, what if when he sees you, he shakes his head and makes an X or something with his hands, insisting that he won’t walk down with you? What if he finds you physically embarrassing to be around, and just walks away? You’ve been running away from him the whole day, so it might not be a stretch to consider that he might have been trying to get away from you, too. 

You groan, scrunching the root of your hair, somewhat messing up your carefully curled hair. No, he wouldn’t just leave, that would ruin the wedding. He has too much love for Chan to do that to him. If he protests, he’d either do it subtly right before or confront you after it’s all over. 

You shut your eyes and take a deep breath. No one knows about your falling out except for you. And, well, Vernon, of course, but that’s not who you have to keep this secret from. You have to do your best to act normal and not at all like your heart is on the verge of bursting. 

“Has anyone ever died of embarrassment?” you suddenly ask, fingers dancing to find something to channel your nervous energy into. You fist a bit of the dress you’re wearing, then release it when you realize you can’t wrinkle the pretty material. “Shit.” You smooth over the fabric with shaky, sweaty hands.

“What is going on with you?” Jihyo’s eyes narrow as she looks you over. 

“I’ll tell you later,” you manage, bouncing your leg up and down. 

“Later, as in when?” 

“After the wedding,” you grit. You want to bury your face in your hands, but the expensive makeup gives you pause. You settle for lowering your head, staring listlessly at the white tiles on the ground. 

“Is this about what happened with Vernon?” 

You whip your head up. “You know?”

Jihyo slowly blinks, then deadpans, “Uh, A, both of you have been weird. The last time I saw you two not together was like, five years ago. And B, you’re literally the least subtle person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh,” you squeak. “Wait, what do you think happened with Vernon?”

She stares blankly at you. “You confessed. He said nothing. You ran away.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, eyes growing comically large. Then, a frown replaces your shock. You don’t need to ask her how she knows. 

Jihyo sighs, coming over to the loveseat to sit next to you. She gives you a warm side hug, rubbing your back. “He’s a massive idiot. It’s gonna be okay. Let’s just get it together for the wedding, hmm?”

You swallow roughly, then nod. 

She continues, “Seriously, though. I’ve known Vernon for almost as long as you have. He’s not great at talking when he’s caught off guard. You know that, too.”

You blink at her words, the tiniest spark of hope igniting in your chest. But you quickly stamp it out, remembering the disgusted face he had when you blurted out that you loved him. “It doesn’t matter, you say,” forcing a small, unconvincing smile. “I’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, it’s not that deep. Just walk down the aisle with him. It’ll take 10 seconds, tops.”

You’re very sure she’s exaggerating, but you wave it off. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” she says dryly.

You glare at her. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good, that’s the right mentality,” she says, clasping your shoulders, shaking your upper body. “파이팅! [Fighting!]”

“해야지, [gotta do it,]” you mutter. 

Jihyo’s right. You’ll have to see Vernon anyway, so you might as well do it with as much dignity as you can scrap together. 

Except, the little dignity you have left demands some more time to procrastinate and linger in your regret.

Jihyo stands up from the couch, but you don’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it just yet.

You groan, “Just go without me, I’ll leave soon. I wanna go as late as possible.” 

Jihyo looks at you with what you can only describe as immense pity. “Okay. I’ll see you in five?” 

You nod, watching her walk to and open the doors of the bridal suite. 

Vaguely, you can hear some absentminded chatter across the room from the hair and makeup artists, mother of the bride, and maid of honor, all crowded over the bride. It’s all but a buzz in the back of your mind, though, since you’re preoccupied with trying to convince yourself that you have it in you to face Vernon. Knowing you only have five minutes before needing to walk down the aisle with him, your mouth feels dry—too dry. 

At that realization, you force your heavy limbs to get up, then walk over to the table where a myriad of miscellaneous objects have been strewn about. You reach for your bag to take out your water bottle, but your hands falter when you look at the little keychain attached to the bag. 

It’s a silver charm bracelet you’ve repurposed as a bag charm. It has a turtle and retriever puppy on it, representing the animals you’ve viewed each other as being. Seeing the charms makes your heart clench, reminding you of how much you’ve missed him in the last two days. 

Could you ever forgive yourself for ruining your precious friendship? For getting too greedy, for asking for too much? 

Your hands grip the edge of the table roughly, searching for something to stabilize your body, which is dangerously teetering in the high heels you had convinced yourself you’d be able to walk properly in. 

Subconsciously, your hand reaches out from the table corner to your bag, gently rubbing the golden retriever charm Vernon always said looked like you, and you’re hit with a sudden intense wave of sadness and regret—but not for the confession. 

No, now, you regret your insecure internal ramblings. Sure, maybe you and Vernon wouldn’t be friends anymore. Maybe you would have to live without seeing him ever again. 

But you’d have to live with yourself, and it wasn’t right to treat yourself like this. 

Technically, Vernon didn’t even say anything to you. He didn’t call you pathetic, he didn’t say you weren’t someone worthy of love. So it was completely unfair for you to jump to those conclusions yourself, conclusions that he hadn’t said to you in the first place. It would be unfair to him to put words in his mouth. 

And it was even more unfair to you, represented by this adorable puppy charm, to lose yourself to heartbreak. 

Straightening your back, your other hand reaches into your bag for your water bottle. Upon chugging the remainder of the water, you close your eyes, concentrating on making your heart rate slow down. It works, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

You might have to live with the fallout of this confession, but you could also live with the truth. Loving Vernon wasn't a mistake, and it wouldn't feel like one, no matter how he responded. He deserved honesty, and you deserved to stand by it. Even if this was the end, you wanted to leave this part of your story knowing you'd done right by both of you.

With this renewed clarity, you steady yourself. Vernon doesn’t love you, and that’s okay. You’d do enough loving for the both of you, but this time, you’d leave room for loving yourself, too.

────୨ৎ────

Vernon steps into the bridal suite, his heartbeat thundering in his chest. He’s spent the past half-hour searching for you in every nook and cranny of the venue, dodging curious glances and half-hearted jokes from the other groomsmen about his obvious distraction. Jihyo’s the one who finally points him in the right direction, murmuring something about how it’s been over five minutes, and maybe he’s the only one who can get you to show up.

When he sees you standing by the table, shoulders tense, your hands gripping the edge like it’s the only thing keeping you upright, his breath catches. There you are, beautiful and fragile all at once, lost in your thoughts. His heart twists. How did it come to this? How did the best thing in his life become the one thing he feels he’s on the verge of losing?

“Hey,” he says softly, taking a step forward, calling your name softly.

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice, and the sudden movement sends you teetering in your high heels. Eyes wide, you twist toward him, your balance faltering. “Vernon?”

It happens in a split second. One of your heels catches on the edge of the rug, and you stumble forward. Vernon darts forward instinctively, catching you just before you hit the ground. His arms wrap around you tightly, steadying you against his chest.

For a moment, everything stops. You’re so close you can hear his heartbeat, a frantic rhythm that matches your own. But just as you start to regain your footing, your heel accidentally digs into his foot, and he lets out a yelp of pain. The abrupt shift in weight sends him off balance, and the two of you tumble onto the floor in a tangled heap.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Vernon’s crazy seagull call of a laugh cuts through the tension. 

It’s infectious, and before you know it, you’re both laughing, the sound filling the room. It’s ridiculous, it’s messy, and it’s the most alive you’ve felt in days.

When your body relaxes all of its tension, you realize that you’ve missed him with every fiber of your being. That something in you has been waiting for him, like you’ve been in withdrawal without hearing his laughter in the last two days. That you might not be able to bring yourself to stay away from him any longer. 

Author's Note: hi more to come soon :)

Tags: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone

[junplusone]

someone get me out of diffeq

[junplusone]

i’m sorry that tongue thing he did in the first gif took me OUTTTT oh my god

JUN GOING SEVENTEEN, EP.121

[junplusone]

first of all hard agree with caption and second of all after i watch this none of you will see me alive again i will simply fall off the face of the earth guys im SOOOoooo serious i cant be normal abt him i

HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE I’M GOING TO FAINT

WHY WASN’T I AWARE THIS WAS HAPPENING??? WHAT IS DKEODNIRNDD UGH HE LOOKS SO MHMBNENSJSSN

(lowkey need him to take me by the throat and slam me against a wall guys like idk)

[junplusone]

seventeen as engineering majors

notes: hi i have nothing to say for myself except this is partially @imujings's fault and also my self indulgence so here we go (can you tell what my major is..... lol)

warnings: ehh swearing, i namedrop companies, eng jargon

-

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - civil engineering

if you know, you know

is very proud of his program despite all the jokes (he shouldn't be) sorry im biased

"we're better than the meches"

never had to take dynamics in his LIFE omg

100% has a poster of the golden gate bridge on his wall and gets made fun of for it

is convinced one day when he's making bank and jeonghan is jobless he'll finally be vindicated

YOON JEONGHAN - mechanical engineering

did have to take dynamics & almost failed it

(he's smart, he was just too lazy to submit any of the homework that was also worth 60% of his grade)

gets salty at career fairs when most of the employers are construction companies

competing with the 24853874534 other meches for class sections

leaning into the "jack of all trades master of ????"

has a superiority complex over the aeros

HONG JOSHUA - computer engineering

should have just been a cs major tbh

compe is the bottom of the engineering food chain

but nobody has the heart to tell him that bc he's too kind

hangs out with the likes of yoon jeonghan but still never skips class

wants to create his own video game

probably got an internship at a fortune 100 company

has hella connections and WILL ask them to nepo you too bc he's that nice

WEN JUNHUI - aerospace engineering

has had enough of the lockheed martin jokes

does NOT !!! wanna work in defense he's a sustainable fuel guy

spacecraft development companies pleaseeee hire him

lets the meches have beef w him bc he dgaf what they think, but gets annoyed when they start competing w him for jobs

sidequest king (double minor in math & ecology AND he wants to try his hand at law school???? wtf)

locks in so freaking hard when he has to but is just silly otherwise - he's that student you never see studying but then they ace the exam

KWON SOONYOUNG - chemical engineering

is the one making lockheed martin jokes in front of junhui

but definitely picked cheme because someone told him he can make bombs

had to retake orgo twice but then passed inorganic chemistry with flying colors

academic wild card #1

always ends up with 8:30s bc he never wakes up on time for class registration

#1 merck worshipper pls hire him omg

LEE JIHOON - computer engineering

is at the bottom of the engineering food chain, but unlike joshua he knows & owns it

is a cs minor so it's slightly more excusable

probably has hella shit on github

definitely following more companies on linkedin than he has connections

double major in music production & plays clarinet in the pep band

you will never see him without his headphones on

JEON WONWOO - electrical engineering

actually very strongly dislikes that electrical & comp are grouped together as ece

likes the versatility of his major

probably never had a single morning class in his life

def came into college proficient in a bunch of programming languages

sits at the back of the lecture hall

never ever studies outside of his dorm bc he likes using his huge desk monitor

KIM MINGYU - biomedical engineering

so sick of every single person he meets assuming he's a premed student

has definitely accidentally broken flasks in his bio lab

was so elated when he found out orgo isn't a graduation requirement

always ALWAYS studies w a whiteboard

is one of the only guys in bme

you can always find him cooking up some food in the dorm's communal kitchen, he's always down for a conversation

LEE SEOKMIN - environmental engineering

minor in sustainability, he's an environmentally conscious sweetie pie!

the dream project groupmate

is one of like 15 people in his graduating class

wants to research water treatment technologies

"did you know using chatgpt is harmful to the environment?"

and he's right !!!!

took organic chemistry for fun and aced it even though mingyu warned him it would tank his gpa

XU MINGHAO - chemical engineering

really wants to work in the fragrance industry

always smells good, you'll never catch him lacking

another one of those people where you don't see them study ever but they still coast through classes

gets distracted when he's drawing out chemical compounds bc he tries too hard to get the lines perfect

and then starts sketching something else

second most nastiest side eye

BOO SEUNGKWAN - industrial & systems engineering

y'all know this man did not wanna do any work (jk i love my ise majors)

business admin double major & he's reaaaally good at it

everyone's jealous of the way he charms all the employers at the career fair how do u even do that like???

very intelligent but hated every calc class he had to take

always studies in the business building

nastiest side eye EVERRRRRR do not say anything stupid in front of him please he will vaporize you

CHWE HANSOL - materials science & engineering

walter white in the making

declared a chemistry minor and then never took the required classes

really enjoyed crystal chem

profs have a hard time grading his hw cause his handwriting lowkey looks like chicken scratches

the absolute chillest during finals week but nobody knows if it's because he studied way in advance or because he didn't study at all

academic wild card #2

such an 'it is what it is' guy tbh...

LEE CHAN - packaging engineering

ppl look confused when he tells them his major

is in it for the near 100% job placement

has a great time in all of his classes because they're so fun and the class size is like 8 kids

doesn't fully know what he wants to do later in life but he'll figure it out later

carpe diem kinda guy

wants to intern at a cosmetics company really really bad so he can take sample products home to his mom

let me know if u enjoyed this hehe :)

[junplusone]

WHDJKSKKS this is what i needed first thing in the morning

[j.ww] say my name

synopsis. | a snowstorm has hit your city, the surprising cold front making it hard for anyone to go anywhere. good thing you and wonwoo are already busy with… other things.

♯ pairing(s). | jeon wonwoo x gn!reader ♯ genre(s). | suggestive (MDNI) & fluff ♯ wc. | 1.1k ♯ warnings. | making out, cursing, wonu calls gn!reader pretty, handsy!wonu, lil bit of sub!reader, lil hair pulling, some grinding, lip biting, pet names (baby)

jay's musings. | m.. making out w wonu during a snowstorm mfqwkdjfjf,,, ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) … (ty @wheeboo for beta reading <3)

Outside is the picture perfect shot of a winter wonderland. Snow blankets the streets of the city, your high-rise apartment giving a breath-taking view of the twinkling lights as people begin to wind down from the day’s escapades.

A snowstorm had taken your area hostage in the middle of the day, and shivering figures could be seen frigidly walking along the sidewalks in a hurry to get home, clearly eager to get out of the cold and uninviting environment.

Inside your cozy space, however, is an entirely different atmosphere.

The only light on is the Himalayan salt lamp sitting on a shelf some ways away, its warm orange lighting draping the room in a rich honey glow. Music drifts in from your bluetooth speaker atop the kitchen island; a NIKI song, no doubt queued by Wonwoo from your shared playlist. There’s a buzz in the air, thick and heavy, like a weighted blanket.

It started out innocent enough, cuddling on the couch and absentmindedly watching the snow outside fall. In moments like these, there was no need for words between you and Wonwoo; you both were simply content with the comfortable silence, finding the presence of the other enough of a joy in life. Sometimes, though, the two of you would mumble quiet reassurances to each other, words of affection passed between the two of you like cherished high school notes, your lips idly finding their way to the other’s.

As the flurries turned into a curtain of white flakes, you and Wonwoo were in the middle of a particularly… heated kiss, with you breaking it to breathlessly (and teasingly) ask if he’d like some tea. His eyes, half-lidded and dark behind his fogged-up glasses, followed you out of the living room area. Your taunting gaze didn’t miss the tent in his grey sweatpants.

When you came back from turning on the stovetop, a shit-eating grin on your face, you were greeted with silence. Biting your lip to hide your smile at his obvious irritation, you open your mouth—only for Wonwoo to drag you into his lap, taking his glasses off and fumbling to place them on the side table, before kissing you fiercely.

That was all some time ago. You aren’t too sure how long it's been since then, but a part of you doesn’t really care anymore, too preoccupied with other matters. Such as the man whose lap you’re sitting in.

Your thighs straddle Wonwoo’s, him having gone back to kissing you lazily, as if he had all the time in the world. You suppose he did, given that his early morning schedule tomorrow was cancelled. Your thoughts drifted to profusely thanking the inclement weather for this pop-up opportunity to get lost in him, lips slowing against his. He seems to notice your attention leaving him, the grip of his fingers on your chin tightening, and any coherent thoughts immediately leave your mind as he softly bites your bottom lip.

You whine, cheeks flaming at his touch. “Wonu…”

“Hm?” is his only reply, hands sliding down to rest underneath your hoodie, teasing the waistband of your sweatpants.

A soft, hushed moan falls off of your lips. Your eyes flutter close and you hide your face in his neck, the rumbling of his laugh only making the fire in your lower stomach burn hotter. Wonwoo’s hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek and brings your mouth back to his.

Kissing Jeon Wonwoo was as easy as breathing. If you could have this as a full-time job, you would take it, no hesitation, and become the richest person in the world. His lips are soft and plump against yours, tasting sweetly of the peach-flavored lip balm you keep in your nightstand. Every time one of you pulled back in the slightest, the other’s lips chased after, shiny and bitten and longing for more.

His other hand is still running along the waistline of your pants, sometimes dipping underneath to snap the hem of your underwear against your skin. You yelp, but he only smiles against your lips, squeezing the fat of your hip gently.

“Relax, baby,” Wonwoo murmurs. “Let me take care of you.”

And you let him, your fingers desperately scrambling to find purchase in the hairs at the base of his neck as he gains control. His hand on your cheek disappears again, grabbing onto your hips as he helps you grind into him. The man’s head tilts back a bit, a groan spilling from his lips from the friction, and you trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pulling you closer until you’re somehow flushed even more against him.

Even through the layers of clothing, you feel the warmth of his skin, your fingers further tangling themselves in strands of his hair. His breath is hot against your skin, pressing a sweet kiss to the apple of your cheek. You melt into him with a sigh leaving you. He knows exactly what buttons of yours to push. You adore him for it. Mind quickly turning into mush, he plants another kiss to your other cheek, a saccharine promise, before tugging your bottom lip between his teeth yet again and biting. Hard.

“Wonwoo!” your voice, high and needy, seems to invigorate him; he moans, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. “Wonu, please…”

“Sounds so pretty, saying my name,” he sighs, tone low and gravelly. “Keep going, baby. Feels so good.”

He’s everywhere. All at once. His hands are traveling up and down your sides, fingers making your skin tingle and burn with the brightest fires. Your brain is foggy, unable to think of anything other than the feel of his tongue swiping against yours and his hips bucking up right where you need him, hard and heavy in just the right way. Something in your stomach starts to burn, coiling with a pressure you know all too well, your telling whimpers being muffled again and again by his lips. One particular and delicious drag of his hips against yours awards him with a beautifully choked sob. If he keeps going, just like that—

The wail of the kettle startles away the fog in your brain.

You pull away, panting, lips swollen and hair disheveled. The blue throw that’s been teetering on the edge of the couch finally falls to the floor in a heap from the sudden movement. Your eyes are wide with alarm, but Jeon Wonwoo just stares at you as if you’ve gone and hung up every star in the damn sky.

“Wonwoo! The tea!”

[junplusone]

YES JAY OF COURSE !!!!

would anyone be interested in a silly little 100 followers event !!! i hit 100 followers and want to celebrate <33 thank u guys sm for all the love ive received on my fics so far :3