#like jokes are jokes and i get them. we all joke that way. but when it happens in literally EVERY SINGLE conversation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarletwinterxx · 3 days ago

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maybe maybe - jeon wonwoo imagine

hellooooo ~ i need to give myself a pat in the back for this bcs OH MY GOSH EVEN I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING THIS. the slooooow burn on this🫠 we love a nonchalant and oa combo (if u know u know)

also i was listening to maybe maybe by lola amour while writing this. give it a listen to get the maximum feels😅

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve liked Jeon Wonwoo for as long as you can remember. It’s not a fleeting crush or some shallow infatuation—it’s the kind of feeling that lingers, like a persistent shadow. He knows it; everyone does. But as much as your friends tease you about your obvious affection for him, Wonwoo has never acknowledged it.

Not once.

Wonwoo is the epitome of calm indifference. He’s polite, sure, but he never goes out of his way to engage with anyone outside of his tight-knit circle of friends, Vernon and Minghao. They’re always together, laughing at inside jokes and radiating an air of effortless cool that only makes him seem more unreachable.

And yet, you can’t help yourself. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even though he treats you no differently than anyone else.

Sometimes you wonder if he even notices the little things you do for him—the way you save him a seat in class when he’s running late, or how you always bring an extra drink to study group just in case he wants one. You tell yourself you’re just being nice, but Mimi, your best friend, sees right through you.

“This is ridiculous,” she tells you one afternoon, leaning back in her chair with an exasperated sigh.

The two of you are sitting outside on the campus lawn, the warm sunlight doing little to ease the frustration in her voice. “You’re bending over backward for a guy who can’t even spare you a second glance.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue weakly, though even you know it’s a poor defense. Mimi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Not that bad? Y/N, he’s like a brick wall with glasses. Sure, he’s good-looking, but you can’t build a relationship on eye contact alone.”

“I’m not trying to build a relationship!” you protest, though your cheeks heat at the lie. “I just… I like being around him, that’s all.”

Mimi rolls her eyes. “You like torturing yourself, is what you mean. Honestly, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you enjoy the challenge.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a part of you that holds onto this unrequited crush because it’s safer than the alternative. If you never confess, you can never be rejected. And as much as Wonwoo’s aloofness stings, it’s still better than the thought of him outright telling you he doesn’t feel the same.

But then there are moments—rare, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath his exterior. Like the time you lent him your notes for a class he missed, and he returned them with a quiet “Thanks” and a small, almost imperceptible smile. Or the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than usual when you bumped into him at the library last week.

It’s those moments that keep you hanging on, no matter how much Mimi scolds you for it.

“You’re hopeless,” she says with a shake of her head. But there’s no real malice in her words, just the weary affection of someone who’s watched you pine for too long. “I swear, one day you’re going to look back on this and laugh.”

You doubt it, but you don’t say that out loud. Instead, you change the subject, steering the conversation toward something less painful.

Later that day, you find yourself crossing paths with Wonwoo outside the campus café. He’s with Vernon and Minghao, as usual, but when he sees you, he slows his pace, letting his friends walk ahead without him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice as steady and unreadable as ever.

“Hi,” you manage, your heart doing its usual somersault at the sight of him.

For a moment, you stand there, unsure of what to say. But before the silence can stretch too long, Wonwoo speaks again.

“Thanks for the notes,” he says simply.

It’s not much, just two words, but the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard. For once, it feels like he’s really looking at you, not just through you. And in that moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, there’s hope after all.

It’s a small step, but it’s enough to keep you going.

Mimi is relentless, as she always is when it comes to your love life—or lack thereof. She’s leaning against your desk chair in your dorm room, scrolling through her phone with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, this guy is perfect for you. He’s into photography, loves indie films, and he’s even in your lit class. Plus, he doesn’t act like he’s living in a perpetual state of indifference.” She shoves her phone in your face, showing you a photo of a guy you vaguely recognize from class. He’s cute, objectively speaking, with a kind smile and a soft, approachable vibe.

But you shake your head before Mimi can even finish her pitch. “I’m not interested.”

Mimi groans, tossing her phone onto your bed. “Why do you do this to yourself? It’s not like you’re dating Wonwoo, or that he’s even trying to date you. You’re wasting your time on a guy who can’t even bother to hold a real conversation with you.”

Her words hit harder than she probably intended, and for a moment, you feel the weight of the truth behind them. She’s right—nothing about your feelings for Wonwoo makes sense. You know it’s a losing game, but every time you even consider the idea of moving on, it feels wrong. Like you’d be betraying something you’ve held onto for so long.

“It’s not that simple,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

Mimi softens at your tone, sinking onto the edge of your bed. “Then make it simple, Y/N. I get it—you like him. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve someone who actually sees you.”

“I don’t know if I want someone else to see me,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

It’s frustrating—you’re frustrated with yourself.

Every time you see Wonwoo, it’s like all the logic and advice you’ve been given evaporates into thin air. All you see is him: the way his glasses slide down his nose when he’s reading, or the rare laugh that lights up his face when Vernon says something ridiculous. It’s like he’s carved a permanent space in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make him leave.

Mimi looks at you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not even ready to like someone else, are you?”

You shake your head, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think so. It’s stupid, right? Holding onto feelings for someone who probably doesn’t even think about me.”

“It’s not stupid,” she says, surprising you. “It’s just… hard to watch. You’re one of the best people I know, Y/N, and it sucks to see you stuck on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”

You’re about to respond when your phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a notification from the group chat for your literature project, and your heart skips a beat when you see Wonwoo’s name among the participants.

“Speak of the devil,” Mimi mutters when she notices your expression. She doesn’t need to ask who the message is from.

You open the chat to find a simple message from Wonwoo: I have some extra notes from class if anyone needs them. Just let me know.

It’s not directed at you specifically, but your heart still flutters at the thought of him offering to help. Mimi catches the way your lips twitch into a faint smile and groans dramatically, flopping back onto your bed.

“You’re hopeless,” she declares, though her tone is more resigned than annoyed.

You don’t argue with her this time. Maybe you are hopeless, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. Because even though it doesn’t make sense, even though it’s frustrating and irrational and probably a little pathetic, a part of you still believes there’s something worth holding onto.

The next day, you’re determined to take a small step forward.

Wonwoo’s message about the notes keeps replaying in your mind, like a sign you can’t ignore. It’s a flimsy excuse to talk to him, sure, but it’s enough to make you gather your courage and head toward the study hall where you know he likes to hang out.

You spot him right away, sitting at his usual corner table. His laptop is open, and a notebook lies beside it, his familiar neat handwriting filling the pages. But before you can take another step, you see her.

She’s sitting across from him, her dark hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. She’s gorgeous in a natural, effortless way that makes you want to disappear on the spot. And the way Wonwoo looks at her—it’s like someone punched you in the stomach. His smile is soft, easy, like he’s known her forever. He’s speaking to her with a comfort and warmth that he’s never shown you.

You freeze in place, your confidence evaporating in an instant. All the what-ifs and maybes that have kept you going suddenly feel childish and naive. You turn on your heel and leave before either of them can notice you.

The rest of the week feels like a blur. You don’t have the energy to pretend everything is fine, and Mimi is quick to notice.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” she asks on Thursday, her eyes narrowing in concern as she sits across from you in the campus café. “You’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog.”

You shrug, poking at your untouched sandwich. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar,” she says immediately. “Come on, spill.”

When you hesitate, she leans in closer, her voice softening. “Is it Wonwoo?”

The look on your face is answer enough.

Mimi lets out a groan, rubbing her temples. “Y/N, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. If he’s making you feel like this—”

“It’s not his fault,” you cut in quickly. “He doesn’t even know how I feel.”

“Exactly,” she says, exasperated. “You’re tearing yourself apart over a guy who doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you.”

You don’t respond, and Mimi sighs. After a moment of silence, she leans forward with a determined look in her eyes.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m not letting you mope around all weekend. There’s a party on Saturday, and you’re coming with me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

“No excuses. You need a distraction, and I’m going to make sure you have fun whether you like it or not.”

True to her word, Saturday evening finds you standing in front of the mirror, dressed in an outfit Mimi picked out for you. It’s a little more daring than your usual style—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugs your figure in all the right places—but Mimi insists it’s perfect.

“You look hot,” she declares, grinning as she adjusts the necklace around your neck. “Wonwoo who?”

You laugh despite yourself, though the sound feels hollow. Mimi doesn’t miss the way your smile falters, and she grabs your hands, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“Listen, Y/N. Tonight is about you. Forget about Wonwoo, forget about everything else, and just have fun. You deserve to feel good about yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, even though you’re not sure you believe it.

But as Mimi drags you out the door and toward the party, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Maybe it’s time to let go, even if just for one night.

The bass from the speakers reverberates through your chest the moment you step inside the party venue. It’s dimly lit, with neon lights flashing and a sea of people crowded around the dance floor and bar.

You feel out of place immediately, but Mimi, ever the extrovert, is in her element. She practically radiates confidence as she scans the room, her hand firmly gripping your wrist.

“This is going to be fun,” she says with a grin, already pulling you toward the bar.

“Mimi, wait—” you start to protest, but she’s not listening. Within moments, she’s ordering shots, her energy infectiously bold.

“Two tequila shots, please!” she calls out over the noise, turning to you with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Come on, Y/N. You said you’d let loose tonight!”

“I didn’t say I’d drink,” you mumble, eyeing the small glasses as they’re placed in front of you.

Mimi rolls her eyes. “One shot won’t kill you. It’s called liquid courage. You’ll thank me later.”

Before you can object again, she’s shoving one of the glasses into your hand. Everything feels like it’s happening too fast—the music, the lights, the crowd, and now this. You glance down at the clear liquid and then at Mimi, who’s already downed hers like a pro.

“Cheers to forgetting about all your worries!” she declares, clinking her empty glass against yours.

You sigh, realizing you have no way out, and tip the shot back. The alcohol burns as it goes down, and you cough slightly, grimacing at the taste. Mimi laughs and pats your back.

“There you go! See? That wasn’t so bad,” she says, already signaling for another round.

As Mimi orders more drinks, you glance around the room, trying to get your bearings.

You don’t notice the way heads turn in your direction, but Wonwoo does.

From his spot in the corner of the room, he’s watching you.

He’d seen you the moment you walked in, though he wasn’t the only one. It’s hard not to notice you tonight. You look stunning, completely different from your usual casual, understated style. The black dress you’re wearing accentuates your figure, and there’s a confidence in the way you carry yourself—even if you don’t feel it.

Vernon nudges him lightly, leaning in to murmur, “Isn’t that Y/N?”

Wonwoo doesn’t reply, his gaze fixed on you as you stand at the bar with Mimi. He’s used to seeing you in hoodies and jeans, always looking comfortable and approachable. But tonight, you’re turning heads left and right, and it’s clear you��re out of your element.

“She cleans up well,” Minghao comments casually, sipping his drink.

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly. He watches as Mimi drags you further into the chaos of the party, her energy pulling you along like a whirlwind. You seem hesitant, your eyes wide as you take in the unfamiliar environment, but there’s something endearing about it.

For a moment, Wonwoo feels a strange pang in his chest, though he can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to seeing you like this, so far removed from the quiet kindness you usually exude. Or maybe it’s the way other people are looking at you—the guys whose eyes linger a little too long, the girls whispering behind their hands.

“Dude,” Vernon says, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You good?”

Wonwoo blinks, finally tearing his gaze away. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his voice lacks conviction.

But even as his friends return to their conversation, Wonwoo can’t help but glance back at you. There’s something about tonight that feels different, and for the first time in a long time, he wonders if he’s the one being left behind.

The alcohol was starting to buzz in your veins, making the room feel warmer and the noise more distant. Mimi was in her element, laughing and chatting with a group of students you vaguely recognized from campus. Somehow, you’d gotten swept up in their drinking games, and before you knew it, one shot had turned into two, then three.

Now, you were standing in a loose circle, your nerves on edge as you watched the current game unfold. Someone had explained it a moment ago: take the shot, then grab the lemon wedge held between another person’s lips. It was bold, far outside your comfort zone, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out.

“Your turn, Y/N!” someone called, handing you a small shot glass filled with tequila.

Your hands felt clammy as you accepted it, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t even look at the person who was supposed to hold the lemon for you—your nerves wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was how awkward this was going to be, and how much you wished you could disappear into the floor.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly as you downed the shot in one go.

The burn of the alcohol hit first, followed by a rush of heat in your chest. When you opened your eyes and turned your head to face whoever had volunteered to hold the lemon, you froze.

Wonwoo didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but there you were, standing at the bar with a shot in hand, the challenge in your eyes as you glanced at the person next to you holding a lemon.

And then—before he even realized what he was doing—he found himself walking over.

You blinked, wondering if the tequila was playing tricks on you. But no—he was standing right in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The room seemed to fall away, the noise and chaos fading into the background.

The lemon wedge was between his lips, his sharp gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch was warm, steady, grounding you even as your mind spiraled.

Every nerve in your body was on high alert, the proximity making your head spin even more than the alcohol.

The way you looked at him when you saw him standing there, so close, made something stir in his chest. He was used to seeing you in passing, in casual greetings, but never like this.

Never with this... spark in your eyes, the nervous energy swirling between you two as if the whole room had faded into the background.

His hand found its way to your face without him thinking about it. It was like instinct, like he was meant to touch you, to make the moment real, to ground you in the present. He could feel your breath against his lips as he held the lemon between his teeth, his own heartbeat quickening as he leaned in. The closeness was intoxicating, and even though everything around you was chaotic, there was a stillness between you two—something unspoken that hummed in the air.

His lips brushed against yours, and for a split second, the world stopped moving. The taste of tequila, the sharpness of the lemon, it all blurred together, leaving just the feeling of your presence, warm and electric. It was over in an instant, but the memory lingered like an echo in his mind.

When he pulled away, he noticed the slight tremble in your breath, the flush creeping up your cheeks. His fingers lingered on your skin, just for a moment, before he let go and took a step back. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else that made him act on impulse, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“Careful with those shots,” he said, his voice steady as he turned to leave, wanting to disappear into the crowd before he did something even more foolish.

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.

You stood there, your heart racing and your mind spinning, wondering if what had just happened was real—or if it was just another tequila-induced dream.

The morning light is harsh, seeping through the blinds and hitting you like a freight train.

Your head pounds, your mouth is dry, and you feel like your body is made of lead. Every movement feels like a chore, and the only thing you want is to pull the covers over your head and pretend like the world doesn't exist.

But then you remember last night. Bits and pieces of the party flash through your foggy mind—Mimi dragging you into the chaos, the shots, the people... and then, the moment with Wonwoo.

You sit up, your stomach flipping at the thought of it.

What had happened? Was it real? Or just a tequila-fueled dream? Your heart sinks into your stomach as the hangover makes itself known in full force. You groan, leaning back against your pillow.

Mimi, ever the morning person, bursts into your room without knocking, as if she doesn’t notice the state you’re in.

“Morning!” she says brightly, a little too brightly, given your current condition. She’s holding a water bottle and some aspirin in her hand. “Here, drink this. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, taking the bottle gratefully, but your eyes are still squinting against the harsh light. “Mimi... what happened last night? What... what did I do?”

Mimi plops down on the edge of your bed, clearly already recovered from whatever wildness the night had thrown her way. She grins, almost too smugly for your current state.

“Let me think,” she says, tapping her chin like she’s in deep contemplation. “Well, first you got a little tipsy, then you got a lot tipsy... You were a little shy at first, but after a few shots, you really started to loosen up!”

You wince, already imagining how embarrassing you must have been. “And…?”

“Then,” she continues, barely able to contain her laughter, “you and Wonwoo had a moment.”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimi says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You two were definitely the talk of the night. You guys played that game, and then...” She pauses for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. “...Well, let’s just say the lemon wedge wasn’t the only thing shared.”

Your brain stumbles over the words as the memory floods back. You and Wonwoo, so close, his hands on your face, the taste of tequila and lemon... And then the kiss, the soft brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a heartbeat.

You feel your cheeks heat up, even as you cringe internally. “That wasn’t a kiss, was it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, it definitely was,” Mimi says with a teasing grin, clearly delighted by the reaction she’s getting from you. “A very brief one, but yeah. It happened.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”

“No, no, no.” Mimi leans in, trying to comfort you—though her laughter is a little too apparent. “It wasn’t a big deal! You didn’t embarrass yourself too badly. Besides, from what I saw, he didn’t look like he minded.”

You look up at her, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Did he say anything?”

Mimi shrugs, her grin turning a little more thoughtful. “He didn’t say much”

Your heart skips a beat. You hadn’t even considered that. Did he... stay because he was just being polite? Or was there something else there?

"Did anything else happen after that?" you ask cautiously.

Mimi shakes her head. "No, you two went your separate ways pretty quickly after that. I mean, you were a little tipsy, so I didn't want to push you too much. But trust me, you're not imagining it. Something happened, even if you're too hungover to remember all the details.”

You lean back against the pillows, the weight of her words settling in your chest. Wonwoo. That moment. Had he really felt something too? Or was it just the alcohol making you think there was more to it than there actually was?

"Mimi..." you trail off, unsure how to even phrase your next question. "What do I do now?"

Mimi's expression softens slightly, though she still has that mischievous glint in her eye. "You let it play out. Don't overthink it. If something’s meant to happen, it will. If not, then at least you got a pretty wild story to tell."

You nod slowly, still unsure about everything. The hangover isn’t making things any easier, and your head feels like it’s full of unanswered questions.

But as you drink the water and swallow the aspirin she handed you, you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the beginning of something you’ve been waiting for. Even if you don’t have all the answers yet.

The next few days felt like an emotional rollercoaster, and you were stuck somewhere near the top, trying to keep your balance.

After last night’s chaos, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Wonwoo. You avoided him like the plague, keeping your distance whenever you saw him around campus. It wasn’t because you regretted what happened, but because... well, it felt like you were the only one who cared about it, and that made everything awkward.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge you or the kiss. He acted like it was nothing, like it was just some silly game, just like the other shots and the other people. But the longer you avoided him, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of it—aware of you. And that only made it worse.

His friends had caught on, too. Vernon had laughed it off, saying it was cute how you were avoiding Wonwoo. Minghao seemed amused. They didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t ignore the tension that built up every time you crossed paths with them.

But it wasn’t just them noticing. Wonwoo was noticing too. You could feel his eyes on you whenever you went to class or sat in the library. His usual nonchalant demeanor didn’t give anything away, but there was something in the way he lingered a little longer, just enough to make you feel seen, even when you wanted to disappear.

Then, one afternoon, when you thought you were finally in the clear, it happened.

You were walking home, head down, lost in your thoughts as the weight of the last few days pressed heavily on your shoulders. You should’ve stayed in and avoided the outside world. But, no, you were out here, walking alone, hoping the fresh air would clear your head.

And then, you heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching. You looked up just in time to see Wonwoo’s car slowing beside you. Your heart skipped, and for a moment, everything inside you screamed to turn around and run. You were already panicking, your steps quickening, but before you could escape, the car came to a stop beside you.

Wonwoo rolled down the window, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his voice—his voice was what made you freeze.

“Y/N,” he called out, and your pulse quickened. You turn slowly to face him

"Hey, Wonwoo. Uh what's up?" you casually, trying to hide the fact that your face is burning because of him and not the cold winds

"Just got out of class, are you walking home?"

"Yea, on my way home too. Anyways, I better get going. See you... around" you wave goodbye and started to walk again.

You hear the car door open and steps behind you, "Are you avoiding me?" his question makes you stop on your tracks. Turning around to see him leaning against the passenger side of his car

“Uh... I... It’s just—” you stutter, and then you realize you can’t lie about it anymore. “It’s because of... the kiss.”

His face doesn’t shift, no surprise or confusion. He just looks at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours for a moment too long. And then, as if it’s nothing at all, he shrugs.

“It wasn’t even a kiss, Y/N,” he says coolly, as though it’s no big deal. “It was just... part of the game. Nothing to worry about.”

The words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You’re disappointed, though you try not to show it. You wanted something more. You wanted him to acknowledge the tension, the fact that there was something between you two, something real.

But of course, that was just how Wonwoo was—nonchalant, distant, and always acting like everything was just nothing.

You couldn’t help the slight sinking feeling in your chest. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Right. Of course,” you mutter, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the disappointment you feel.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You feel awkward, standing there on the sidewalk, his car still idling beside you. But then he speaks again, his tone softening just slightly, though still with that signature aloofness.

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” he opens the passenger door, waiting for you.

You hesitate. You should just say no, continue walking, put some distance between you. But you’re tired, emotionally drained, and there's something about his voice—something about the way he’s offering that makes it hard to refuse. You sigh, not knowing what to say but not wanting to make things worse. You step toward the car, sliding into the passenger seat without another word.

As he pulls away, the silence in the car is thick, and you can’t stop the thoughts that swirl in your head. You want to ask him, want to know if that kiss meant anything to him, or if he really did feel nothing about it.

But that’s just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Always distant, always playing it cool, never letting anyone get too close.

The drive to your place feels like an eternity, but in the back of your mind, you know this silence between you two is only going to build the tension more. You just wish he would break it.

It wasn’t easy, but you were getting better at avoiding him. The subtle things you used to do for him—saving him a seat in the library, offering him drinks or homemade cookies—had all stopped. You still couldn’t bring yourself to fully confront your feelings for him, and honestly, it felt like the only way to protect yourself was to distance yourself from him as much as possible.

You told yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that the space you were creating would help you get over him. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much time passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always noticing.

And, of course, he noticed. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he was observant, maybe more so than he let on. He noticed that you stopped going out of your way to be kind to him. He noticed the absence of the small, thoughtful gestures you used to offer. At first, he didn’t say anything, uncertain of what was going on, or whether he even had the right to ask you about it.

But eventually, he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

It was late in the afternoon when you were walking alone on campus, heading toward the library to meet up with Mimi. The cool breeze made your hair dance around your face, and the noise of the campus life seemed distant, as if you were in your own little bubble.

As you passed by the gym, you saw him. Wonwoo. He had just finished his workout, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his T-shirt sticking to his body in that way it always did after a session. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly turned your attention elsewhere, pretending you hadn’t seen him.

But he saw you. Of course, he did.

“Y/N,” Wonwoo called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, his footsteps quickening to match yours. You tried not to flinch as you heard him approaching, but your pulse was racing.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the nervousness bubbling up inside you. “Wonwoo?” you said, keeping your voice steady even though it felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest.

He stopped in front of you, looking at you for a beat too long, like he was sizing you up. The look on his face was unreadable, but you could see the confusion in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed slightly as he took you in.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

"Stop?" You repeated, confused by his question. What was he even talking about?

"Yeah," he continued, his voice casual, but there was something different in it now. Something that made you feel like you were under a microscope. "You stopped... saving me seats, or bringing me stuff. You used to do that all the time."

You didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to lie, to say it was no big deal, that you were just too busy or distracted with school, but something in his eyes made you hesitate. The truth, the real reason you were avoiding him, was too complicated. You couldn’t say it outright.

“I just… I guess I’ve been busy,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “Things just… changed, I guess.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, as though trying to understand, but he didn’t push. There was no challenge in his voice, no annoyance. It was just curiosity, genuine and unassuming.

"Okay," he said after a beat, his eyes still locked on you. “I just thought you were mad at me or something.”

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, but you brushed it aside. “I’m not mad, Wonwoo. I’m just... I don’t know." You shook your head, unsure of how to explain your feelings without making things even more awkward. “I guess I just needed space.”

There was a pause, and then, for the first time in a while, he looked almost... vulnerable. "Space? For what?"

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You could hear the underlying question in his voice, even if he wasn’t asking it directly. Why had you pulled away from him? Why had you stopped the small things that used to come so naturally?

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo let out a small sigh, and though his expression was still unreadable, there was something softer in his tone. “Alright. I just wanted to know.”

Without waiting for you to respond, he turned to leave, his steps slow but purposeful. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him walk away, the weight of his question lingering in the air between you.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were disappointed in. Was it because he hadn’t pushed you to explain? Or was it because, deep down, you were still waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel like your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all?

But that was just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Detached, distant, and never quite giving you the answers you needed.

And yet, even as you watched him disappear into the distance, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder—maybe he did want to know.

The cool breeze of the evening felt nice against your skin as you walked through the quiet neighborhood, sipping on your banana milk. The streets were relatively empty, the soft hum of the evening a welcome relief after a busy week. You didn’t have a particular destination in mind—just wanted to clear your head and enjoy the peace for a while.

As you walked past the familiar basketball court, you spotted a figure out of the corner of your eye. At first, you didn’t think much of it, but then the silhouette registered in your mind. It was Wonwoo.

You stopped in your tracks, unsure whether to approach him or just keep walking. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too focused on dribbling the ball and taking shots at the hoop. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the court, and for a moment, you found yourself just watching him. There was something about his movements that seemed different, something tight in the way he played—like he was working through something that was bothering him.

Maybe it was the way his jaw was clenched or the way his shoulders were hunched. He looked almost frustrated, the usual nonchalance replaced by something more intense. You stood there, quietly sipping your drink, lost in thought as you watched him.

You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn’t see the ball coming toward you. It hit you squarely on the head before you could react.

"Ouch!" you exclaimed, wincing as you staggered back a step.

Wonwoo’s head snapped toward you immediately, his eyes wide with concern. He jogged over, his long legs covering the distance quickly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with worry. He stood in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of injury.

You rubbed your head, trying to play it off as no big deal. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention,” you muttered, but you could tell by the way Wonwoo was looking at you that he wasn’t convinced.

“Are you sure?” He reached up to gently touch the spot where the ball had hit you, his fingers lightly brushing the area. His touch was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest despite the situation.

“Really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, pulling back slightly. The last thing you needed was to be caught up in another one of these awkward moments with him.

But before you could brush it off entirely, something in you gave way. The distance you’d been trying to maintain, the walls you’d carefully built to protect yourself—suddenly, it felt so fragile. Maybe it was the way Wonwoo was looking at you so intently, or maybe it was the fact that it had been days since you last spoke. Whatever it was, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I just thought I was being too much," you murmured, your gaze dropping to the ground. "And it’s not like you liked it."

Wonwoo froze, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the awkwardness of the situation now mixed with something more vulnerable. You could feel your heart beating faster, the confession hanging in the air like a weight.

You regretted saying it the moment it left your lips, but it felt like the truth—no matter how painful it was. You didn’t want to keep putting yourself out there, offering him small gestures and favors if he wasn’t interested in them, or in you.

For a long moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything. His gaze softened, and he seemed to be carefully considering his next words. It wasn’t the detached, nonchalant Wonwoo you were used to.

This time, he seemed almost... human.

"You’re not being too much," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual coldness. He met your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you saw something different in his gaze—something that wasn’t easy to define. "And I didn’t think it was annoying or anything."

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but the sincerity in his voice made you hesitate. Was he really saying that? Did he mean it?

“I thought you wouldn’t want me to keep doing those things for you if you didn’t care.”

Wonwoo’s expression softened even more, and he let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that was far more human than the usual composed Wonwoo you knew.

“You’re not being too much, and I guess I see why you think I didn't care. I never said I didn't” he says, this time with more conviction. “I just…” He trailed off, like he was searching for the right words. “I just didn’t know what to make of it. You were doing all these things, and I didn’t know how to react.”

There it was. The reason for his distance. The reason for his coldness. He hadn’t known how to handle your kindness. He hadn’t known what to do with the way you made him feel, and so he had kept his distance, just as you had.

“I’m sorry,” he added after a beat, looking slightly embarrassed, as though the admission was a little difficult for him.

You didn’t know what to say, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. Had you really been wrong all along? Had he cared, but just not known how to show it?

You were so taken aback by his answer that your mind couldn't keep up. The words he had said, so simple, yet so unexpected, rattled your thoughts. I never said I didn’t care. Had you misread everything? Had all your attempts to keep your distance been for nothing?

"But then the kiss..."

"That was me being stupid, I should've apologized for invading your space like that and you look really bothered by it. I was being dumb"

"Well you did say it was just a game" you mumble

"Like I said, I was being dumb and I apologize" he shoots you a quick apologetic smile

Before you could process anything more, your face heated up with embarrassment. You felt suddenly shy, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.

“I—” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt a nervous energy surge through you, a mix of confusion and the rush of emotions you were trying to keep hidden.

“I’m fine, really.” You managed to give him a small, flustered smile, hoping it would make him stop worrying about you.

But Wonwoo wasn’t convinced. He stepped a little closer, eyes scanning you with concern. “You don’t seem fine,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked you over. “You sure you’re not concussed or something? You hit your head pretty hard.”

Your heart raced at the proximity, and you could feel the overwhelming urge to escape before you made a bigger fool of yourself. He was too close.

“No, really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words coming out in a rush as you took a step back. You were panicking, trying to make sense of everything, but all you wanted in that moment was to get away from him. To breathe. To process what had just happened.

Before you knew it, your feet were already moving, backing away from him at a faster pace. You didn’t even think about it—your body just reacted, the instinct to escape taking over.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo called after you, his voice filled with concern, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with him standing there, looking so sincere and worried, when you were still trying to understand everything that had just happened.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go!” you shouted over your shoulder, not daring to look back.

You could hear him calling your name again, but you didn’t stop. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned down the nearby street, running as fast as you could without looking back.

You kept running, trying to outrun the mess of emotions that swirled inside you. The awkwardness, the guilt, the confusion—it was all too much. And you couldn’t deal with it now.

As you finally slowed down, your breath coming in heavy gasps, you leaned against a nearby wall, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your heartbeat. You’d never done anything like that before—just ran away from a conversation like it was nothing. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing you could do.

What had just happened? Why did his words make you feel like everything inside you was unraveling?

You were doing well—at least, you thought you were.

For the past few days, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with Wonwoo. You kept your distance, keeping your head down whenever he was around, avoiding his gaze, and hiding whenever you could. It was easier that way. You convinced yourself it was better this way.

But then, on this particular day, as you were gathering your things at the end of class, preparing to leave, you felt a tug on the hood of your jacket. You froze, instinctively jerking away from the sudden contact.

"Y/N," a calm voice spoke, and you looked up to find Wonwoo standing there, looking down at you with a slightly amused, yet nonchalant expression. He didn’t seem angry, just... observing.

You felt your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, your cheeks began to heat up. His gaze was steady, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as if he was asking you, Are you really doing this?

You didn’t know how to respond. Every part of you wanted to turn away and just leave before things got any worse, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.

“I... I wasn’t... trying to hide,” you stammered, but your voice came out weaker than you’d intended.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, not saying anything at first. He didn’t need to. His gaze alone spoke volumes. He was just waiting for you to admit what was going on.

You shifted uncomfortably, biting your lower lip as you awkwardly tried to avoid his gaze. “I... didn’t know how to talk to you,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been... confusing. And I thought... maybe it was better to just keep my distance.”

Wonwoo didn’t seem angry. In fact, the amused look on his face lingered, but there was something else there, something softer that you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now,” he said in that same calm tone, his voice unbothered. “But running away won’t make this go away, you know.”

You winced at his words, feeling the weight of them more than you wanted to admit. But you couldn’t deny that he was right. It wasn’t going to disappear just because you ran away from it.

“I... I don’t know what to say to you,” you confessed, feeling all your anxiety bubbling up again. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just...”

“Just what?” Wonwoo asked, his expression unreadable now, his voice still quiet but insistent. “You think I won’t understand?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know if you will,” you murmured, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I thought maybe... maybe it was easier to just pretend it didn’t matter.”

Wonwoo studied you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “You think it doesn’t matter?” he asked, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “You’re the one who’s been giving me things, doing things for me. It matters.”

You felt your heart beat faster, unsure of how to handle this newfound vulnerability in his voice. It was unlike him, and it was making everything even more complicated.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said quietly, your hands still fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket. “I thought... maybe I was just being annoying.”

Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Y/N... you weren’t being annoying. I just didn’t know how to respond to you, okay?” His voice softened further, a hint of frustration in it now, but not at you—at himself, maybe. "I didn't know what you wanted from me."

You stared at him, unsure what to say. His words were hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected, and the confusion that had been gnawing at you for so long started to ebb, replaced by a different kind of uncertainty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by his own admission, but then his gaze returned to yours. “I didn’t know how to. It’s easier for me to just... not talk about these things." He paused, then gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "But I’m trying, okay?”

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but at the same time, it was replaced by something new—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

“So... what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.

Wonwoo stepped closer, a subtle movement that somehow felt like the most intimate thing. His expression was still calm, but there was a softness in it now that made your heart race. “Now, we talk. No more running away.”

You didn’t know what that would mean for you, for him, for whatever this was between you. But right now, it felt like you might finally be able to stop avoiding the truth.

You find yourself sitting across him at a diner outside campus. The booth was cozy, the dim lighting giving the place a warm, inviting atmosphere. But despite the warmth of the surroundings, you felt cold. The walls you’d carefully built around yourself seemed to be crumbling, and the closer you got to Wonwoo, the more vulnerable you felt.

You hadn’t said much since you’d arrived, your gaze bouncing around the diner, avoiding his eyes whenever they found yours.

Wonwoo, however, was watching you with quiet amusement, his gaze flickering between you and the menu in his hands. He could tell you were uncomfortable, restlessly fiddling with your hands, your eyes constantly darting away whenever he caught you looking at him.

"Hey," he finally said, his voice calm but carrying a teasing edge. "You seem a little... tense."

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, but before you could say anything, you noticed your own body language—a slight fidget, your shoulders stiff, your legs crossed tightly. You shifted in your seat, trying to make yourself comfortable, but it wasn’t working. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on you.

“I... I just don’t like sitting across from people,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze still averted. “It’s too much pressure, I guess.”

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate. Without saying a word, he slid out of the booth, shifting to the side next to you. The movement was casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. He wasn’t judging you for your discomfort. Instead, he was meeting you halfway, making you feel... seen.

He settled beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned back against the booth, a relaxed smile spreading across his face. He was so close now, and you felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from the unexpected comfort of his presence.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low and surprisingly gentle, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of unease.

You nodded, but this time, you didn’t shy away from meeting his gaze. The proximity made everything feel a little more real, a little more grounded. And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel the need to run away.

“Yeah,” you murmured, still a little flustered, but this time, the smile on your lips was more genuine, more relaxed. “This feels better.”

Wonwoo smirked, clearly pleased with your response, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me.”

“So…” You hesitated for a moment, still unsure of how to navigate this new dynamic between you. “What now?”

Wonwoo’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though his eyes held a certain sincerity. “Now, we eat, and we talk. You don’t have to worry about running away anymore.” He paused, then added with a small smile, “And no more avoiding me, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start figuring things out—with him, and with yourself.

You nodded slowly, the silence between you wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t easy, either. It felt like there were a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air, and neither of you knew how to address them.

Then, Wonwoo spoke, his voice calm and steady. “What’s your go-to drink order?”

You blinked, startled by the question. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, that wasn’t what you expected. “Uh…” You hesitated, glancing at him briefly before looking back down at your hands. “Probably... iced vanilla latte. Or banana milk,” you added with a nervous laugh, gesturing to the nearly empty carton in front of you, you pulled it out of your bag a few minutes ago.

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you liked banana milk. I see you drinking it a lot.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation, and you ducked your head, suddenly very aware of how closely he paid attention to you. “Yeah, it’s kind of a comfort drink,” you admitted softly. “What about you?”

“Americano,” he replied easily. “No sugar.”

You scrunched your nose at that, and Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your reaction. “What?” he teased. “Not a fan of bitter drinks?”

“Not really,” you admitted, daring a quick glance at him before looking away again. “I like sweet things.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving you. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

You bit your lip, trying to think. The way he was watching you so intently made your brain feel foggy, and it was hard to focus. “Probably... cheesecake,” you finally said. “Strawberry cheesecake.”

He hummed thoughtfully, as if filing that piece of information away. “Strawberry cheesecake,” he repeated, his voice soft. “Noted.”

“Why are you asking me this?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Wonwoo shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just trying to get to know you better.”

That answer caught you off guard. You looked down at your lap, your hands twisting nervously. “But... why?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you found him watching you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache. “Because I want to,” he said simply, his voice quiet but certain.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away again, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Wonwoo didn’t push you to say anything else. He let the silence settle again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. It felt... different. Like he was giving you space to process, to breathe.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe he wasn’t as far out of reach as you’d always thought.

It's suppose to be another normal day. You're in class, sitting next to MImi still feeling sleepy but then something slides infront of you.

You stared at the banana milk on your desk like it had suddenly sprouted wings. Slowly, you turned back to look at Wonwoo, who was casually flipping through his notebook like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Mimi, sitting to your right, nudged your arm, her expression a mix of confusion and barely-contained glee. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes darting between you and Wonwoo like she was trying to piece together a crime scene.

“I have no idea,” you whispered back

You leaned slightly toward Wonwoo, lowering your voice as much as possible. “What are you doing?”

“Attending class,” he replied, not even looking up from his notebook. His tone was so calm, so casual, that for a moment you thought you’d imagined him moving seats altogether.

“Here?” you pressed, glancing over your shoulder again to see his friends Vernon and Minghao, who were both watching the two of you with poorly hidden smirks. Minghao even gave you a small wave, which only made you more flustered.

Wonwoo finally looked at you, his expression as neutral as ever. “Why not?”

Before you could respond, he nudged the banana milk closer to you. “You like this, right?”

You blinked down at the carton, your brain short-circuiting. “I... yeah, but—”

“Then drink it.” His tone was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

Beside you, Mimi’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Okay, what is going on here?” she hissed under her breath, leaning closer to you. “Did you bribe him? Threaten him? Sell your soul to some matchmaking demon?”

“I don’t know!” you whispered back, your voice frantic as you stared at the banana milk like it held all the answers to life’s mysteries.

Wonwoo, clearly aware of the hushed conversation happening beside him, leaned back in his chair and glanced at Mimi. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his calm demeanor never faltering.

Mimi froze, her eyes wide as she realized he was addressing her directly. “Uh, no? Nothing’s wrong,” she stammered, clearly trying to play it cool. “Just... curious, that’s all.”

Wonwoo nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned his attention back to his notebook, leaving you and Mimi to exchange bewildered looks.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. You were hyper-aware of Wonwoo’s presence beside you, the subtle sound of him turning pages, the occasional shift in his seat, even the faint scent of his cologne. You couldn’t focus on the lecture to save your life, and every time you caught Mimi looking at you, she wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made you want to crawl under the desk.

When the class finally ended, you quickly packed up your things, eager to escape before your brain completely melted. But as you stood up, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Walk with me,” he said, his tone more of a statement than a question.

You glanced at Mimi, who was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and a grin that was far too smug for your liking. “Go ahead,” she said, waving you off. “I’ll meet you later.”

Before you could argue, Wonwoo gently tugged your wrist, guiding you toward the door. You followed him, your heart racing as you wondered what on earth he was up to now.

You were half jogging to keep up with Wonwoo’s long strides, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist as he led you through the campus. It wasn’t like he was walking that fast—it was just that his legs were ridiculously long compared to yours.

Your steps were hurried, almost clumsy, as you tried to keep up. “Wonwoo,” you huffed, glancing at his back, “can you slow down? Not all of us have tree trunks for legs, you know.”

He glanced back at you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We’ll be late if I slow down,” he said simply, but his pace did ease up slightly.

It was almost cute—too cute, honestly. The height difference, the way you had to trudge along behind him like a kid trying to keep up. And then there was him: calm, composed, and acting like dragging you to your next class was just a normal, everyday occurrence.

By the time you reached the door of your classroom, you were slightly out of breath. Wonwoo, of course, looked as unbothered as ever. He gently let go of your wrist and gestured for you to go in.

“Go,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To my class,” he replied, as though it was obvious.

You frowned, gesturing vaguely in the direction you had just come from. “Your class isn’t here?”

“Nope,” he said, already turning on his heel to walk away. “It’s on the other side of campus.”

You stared at him, your jaw dropping. “The opposite side?”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder to meet your incredulous gaze. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then why did you—” You cut yourself off, not even sure how to finish the sentence.

Wonwoo just shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Felt like walking you,” he said simply, as though it was no big deal.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing at the door of your classroom, completely flustered and at a loss for words.

What is he doing to me? you thought, burying your face in your hands. Whatever game Wonwoo was playing, it was definitely working.

This new routine had become so normal that you almost stopped questioning it—not that you were any less flustered every time Wonwoo waited for you after class or walked you across campus. It was just easier to let it happen, even if your heart constantly felt like it was doing somersaults. Mimi teased you endlessly about it, of course, but you’d stopped trying to defend yourself. What could you even say?

One afternoon, just as class was ending, Wonwoo approached you while you were packing up your things. You were expecting him to grab his bag and lead you out of the room like usual, but instead, he hesitated.

“I have something to do after class today,” he said, his voice soft yet direct, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. “I can’t drive you home.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Oh, that’s okay. I can just—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, giving you a look that made you freeze. “Are you going to walk home alone?”

You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I mean, it’s not that far...”

He frowned at that, clearly not liking your response. “I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s really fine, Wonwoo. I’ve walked home alone before.”

“Not anymore,” he said firmly, pulling out his phone.

You raised an eyebrow as he started dialing, wondering what on earth he was doing. “What are you—”

“Hey,” he said into the phone, cutting you off. “Where are you right now? Can you drive someone home for me?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he really calling someone just to make sure you didn’t walk home alone?

A few moments later, he hung up and turned back to you. “Vernon and Minghao are nearby. They’ll drive you home.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“I already did,” he said simply, grabbing his bag. “They’ll meet you outside in five minutes. Just wait for them, okay?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t stern, exactly, but it was... serious. Protective. Like he genuinely wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you.

You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. “Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He softened at that, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good. I’ll text you later.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind reeling.

When you made your way outside, Vernon and Minghao were waiting by Vernon’s car, both of them looking far too amused for your liking.

“So,” Vernon said, leaning casually against the hood of the car, “you’re the one Wonwoo’s been babying lately.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Can we not talk about this?”

Minghao chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. “Don’t worry, we won’t tease you too much. Wonwoo’s been... different lately, though. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”

“Different how?” you asked, sliding into the car and buckling your seatbelt.

Vernon smirked as he started the engine. “Let’s just say you bring out a side of him we didn’t know existed.”

You couldn’t decide if that made you feel flattered or even more flustered. Either way, as they drove you home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the lengths Wonwoo had gone to just to make sure you were safe. And even though it was embarrassing, a small, shy smile found its way to your lips.

Later that night, just as you were about to settle into bed, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You blinked at the screen, momentarily stunned when you saw the name.

Wonwoo.

Your heart immediately started racing. He had texted you before, sure, but calling? This was new. Hesitantly, you picked up, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a certain warmth that made you grip your phone a little tighter. “Did you get home okay?”

You felt your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself. “Yeah, Vernon and Minghao dropped me off. You really didn’t have to go that far, you know.”

“I did,” he said simply. “I told you, I don’t like you walking alone.”

There was something about the way he said it—calm, steady, certain—that made your chest feel warm. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the giddy feeling bubbling inside you.

Instead, you changed the subject. “How was your thing after class? You never said what it was.”

“Just something for a group project,” he answered. “It took longer than I expected.”

You hummed in understanding. “That sucks.”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Anyway, how was your day?”

At that, you perked up, launching into a detailed retelling of everything that had happened since class. You told him about Mimi’s latest antics, how she nearly got into an argument with a professor because she was convinced she turned in her assignment when she actually hadn’t. You talked about how Vernon and Minghao teased you the whole car ride home, about the new café you wanted to try, and even the silly little things that made you laugh that day.

Somewhere along the way, you noticed he had gone quiet.

“Wonwoo?” you called, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Are you still there?”

There was a pause, then his voice came through the speaker—soft, almost gentle.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

There was something different about the way he said it. He wasn’t just saying it to fill the silence. He meant it. He liked listening to you.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but you pushed forward, finishing your story despite how shy you suddenly felt.

When you finally ran out of things to say, he let out a contented hum. “You should get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your heart melted at how soft his voice was. “Okay,” you said quietly.

“Goodnight,” he added, and you swore you could hear the smallest smile in his voice.

“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”

The call ended, and for a moment, you just sat there, staring at your phone. Then, all at once, the emotions hit you like a tidal wave.

You let out a loud groan, grabbed your pillow, and screamed into it.

“What are you doing to me, Jeon Wonwoo?!”

Your pillow, of course, had no answers. But one thing was clear—you were so doomed.

It's a few weeks later, you're at the cafe you frequently hang out when you have free time. The usual, you're on your yapping mode while Wonwoo listens. But then you said something you didn't mean to tell him.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze.

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It was just one of those things you only ever admitted to Mimi—how you were so confused about what was going on between you and Wonwoo.

But now, you had just said it. Right in front of him.

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, hesitantly, you turned to look at him.

Wonwoo was already staring at you, that small, amused smile still lingering on his lips—but his eyes held something else. Something unreadable.

For the first time, he didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t tease you, didn’t brush it off. He just watched you, as if he was carefully thinking about what to say.

You scrambled to fix it. “I-I mean—” you let out a nervous laugh, waving your hands. “Forget I said that! It was just, um, something stupid I told Mimi—”

Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze still locked on you. “You’re confused?” he asked, his voice calm.

You swallowed. “I mean... yeah?”

Silence.

The tension was unbearable. Your heart was practically screaming in your chest.

Finally, he leaned back, eyes flickering to the coffee in front of him. Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.

“What do you want us to be?”

Your breath hitched.

You stared at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. Your mind raced, completely unprepared for the question.

“I—” you fumbled, gripping the edge of your sleeves. “I don’t know...”

Another pause. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Liar.”

Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”

Wonwoo met your gaze again, eyes knowing, almost too knowing. He didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked fond—like he had already figured out the answer before you even realized it yourself.

Your face burned. “I’m not lying—”

“You’ve liked me for a long time.” His voice was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that it left you speechless.

Your entire body tensed.

Oh my god.

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

Everyone knew. You knew he knew. But hearing him say it so bluntly, with no hesitation—it made your stomach flip.

You wanted to disappear.

“I—” You swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. “Okay, so maybe that’s true, but—”

“But?” He was still watching you, waiting.

“But I don’t know what you want.” The words came out smaller than you intended, but they were honest. “You... you’re always around now, Wonwoo. You drive me home, you wait for me after class, you listen to me ramble all the time. I just—” You bit your lip. “I don’t know what that means to you.”

Another silence.

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he reached for his coffee, taking a slow sip. Then, with the same infuriatingly calm expression, he set it back down, resting his chin against his palm as he gazed at you.

And then—

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands clenched under the table, heart pounding in your ears. You knew what he was implying, you felt what he was saying without words, but you still couldn’t believe it.

And Wonwoo—knowing you so well—could see that.

So, he leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time.

“I wouldn’t do all of this if you weren’t special to me.”

Your brain short-circuited.

You felt like your heart had stopped entirely, like you had forgotten how to breathe.

Jeon Wonwoo—who had spent years acting nonchalant toward you—was now sitting here, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You didn’t know what to say.

So, naturally, you panicked.

“I—um—I need to go to the bathroom!” you blurted out, shoving your chair back as you stood up abruptly.

Wonwoo blinked, a bit startled, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re running away?”

“I am not running away!”

“You’re literally running away.”

“I need to pee!” you lied, voice high-pitched as you quickly turned toward the restroom.

Behind you, you heard Wonwoo laugh—actually laugh—before calling out, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

You groaned, covering your face as you rushed away.

This was too much.

Jeon Wonwoo was too much.

When you finally gathered the courage to come back, your heart was still hammering in your chest. You had taken extra minutes in the restroom just to stare at yourself in the mirror, mentally screaming and trying to convince yourself to act normal.

Except—how could you act normal after what just happened?

You cautiously made your way back to the booth, and there he was—Wonwoo, sitting comfortably with one arm draped over the back of the seat, sipping his drink as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb on you.

And then, when he noticed you, his lips curled into that teasing smile.

“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Took you a while.”

Your face heated.

“I had to—um, you know—actually pee.” You sat down stiffly, eyes fixed on the table.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced at all.

You fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Now that you knew he felt something for you, you had no idea how to act around him. You weren’t prepared for this. You had spent so long assuming your feelings were one-sided that the moment he admitted otherwise, your brain completely shut down.

And Wonwoo—of course—noticed.

He watched you with that quiet amusement, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, after a beat, he spoke again.

“Are you still confused?”

Your breath caught.

You looked up at him—finally meeting his gaze—and you regretted it immediately because he was already staring at you.

His dark eyes, calm and steady, held a kind of certainty that made your stomach flip.

“I—” You swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Wonwoo hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “I see.”

You thought that would be the end of it, that he would back off and give you time to process—but no.

Instead, he leaned in.

Not dramatically, not forcefully. Just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, enough that your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists in your lap.

Then, in a voice so quiet that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,

“Then tell me…”

His eyes flickered to your lips before locking back onto yours.

“What do you want me to be?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Your body went completely still.

The weight of the question—the meaning behind it—hit you all at once, and suddenly, everything felt too real.

Wonwoo was still watching you, waiting, his face unfairly close to yours. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He wasn’t joking. He was giving you the choice—asking you to decide what this was between you.

And you…

You had no idea how to answer.

Because for the first time ever—

You realized that your silly little crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

What did you want him to be?

For so long, you had thought the answer was simple—you wanted him, you always had. But now that he was actually asking you, the words caught in your throat.

You were frozen, caught between the overwhelming weight of your long-time feelings and the terrifying reality of facing them head-on.

Wonwoo didn’t move. He was still leaning close, his dark eyes fixed on yours, waiting patiently. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing you to answer, but that only made it worse.

You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a small, breathless,

“I—”

And then you panicked.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up—you quickly grabbed your drink and took the biggest gulp imaginable, as if that would somehow wash away the moment.

It didn’t.

Instead, Wonwoo let out a quiet chuckle, finally leaning back, giving you space.

“You’re cute when you panic.”

You almost choked.

“I’m not panicking,” you sputtered, setting your drink down with a little too much force.

His lips twitched, clearly not believing you. “So, what’s your answer?”

“I—” You exhaled, gripping the hem of your shirt. “This is a lot, okay? You just—you never made it seem like you liked me before, and now you’re—” You gestured vaguely at him. “—doing all this and it’s messing with my brain.”

Wonwoo tilted his head, looking at you with quiet curiosity. “I never made it seem like I liked you?”

You gave him a look.

He hummed, gaze flickering downward for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “That’s not true.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“I just… don’t show it the way you do.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact, as if it was something you should’ve known all along.

You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words.

And then, as if to prove his point, Wonwoo reached out—his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment before he grabbed your wrist, gently pulling your hand closer to him.

Your breath hitched.

“Do you really think I would’ve let just anyone take care of me the way you did?” His voice was lower now, softer, as his thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles against the back of your hand. “I noticed, you know. Every time you saved me a seat, every time you gave me something without expecting anything in return.”

You swallowed thickly.

Wonwoo glanced down at your intertwined hands, as if realizing he was still holding you. But instead of letting go, he gave your fingers a small, almost hesitant squeeze.

“I didn’t ignore it because I didn’t care,” he admitted. “I just… didn’t know how to respond.”

The confession made something in your chest tighten.

Wonwoo had always been unreadable to you—his quiet, nonchalant demeanor making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. But now, sitting here with him, listening to him actually talk about his feelings, you realized that he wasn’t cold at all. He was just careful.

He let out a quiet sigh. “But when you stopped…” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I didn’t like that.”

You blinked. “You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “No.”

It was such a simple response, yet it made your heart race all over again.

There was a small beat of silence before he spoke again, quieter this time.

“I missed you.”

Your chest ached.

All this time, you had thought your feelings were a burden to him—that he barely noticed you, let alone missed you. But here he was, telling you otherwise, proving you wrong in the gentlest way possible.

Your fingers curled around his, gripping back.

“…I missed you too.”

Wonwoo smiled, the kind of small, rare smile that made your stomach flip.

“So,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, “are you still confused?”

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “…Maybe.”

He chuckled. “Then should I make it clearer?”

You sucked in a breath when he leaned in again, just close enough that you could see the soft curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes.

His gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

“What do you want me to be?” he asked again, voice barely above a whisper.

"Do I have to answer now?"

Wonwoo just smiled at your question. That soft, knowing kind of smile that made your stomach do flips.

“Take your time,” he said simply, "You waited for me, without expecting anything. It's my turn now" he tells you.

You could barely meet his eyes, your fingers twitching against his. “I just—this is a lot, okay?”

“I know.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a soothing motion. “That’s why I’m letting you decide.”

That didn’t help at all.

You groaned internally, dropping your forehead onto the table in defeat. “You’re making this so much worse, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He chuckled, and you could feel his amusement. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the one blushing like crazy.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed again, and you hated how much you loved the sound.

After a moment, you hesitantly lifted your head, still unable to look at him directly. “…So, you’re not gonna, like, be weird about this?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not gonna pressure me?”

“No.”

“You’re just gonna… wait?”

Wonwoo leaned back against the booth, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours. “As long as you need me to, as long as you want me here”

Your breath hitched.

Oh.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze at his words.

“…Okay,” you mumbled.

“Okay?”

You nodded shyly, finally—finally—glancing up at him. “I’ll think about it.”

His lips twitched, amused. “Good.”

And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, Wonwoo lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the lightest, softest kiss against your knuckles.

Your brain completely shut down.

“You—” You squeaked, yanking your hand back as if you had just been electrocuted.

Wonwoo just smirked.

“Take your time,” he repeated, looking way too satisfied with himself. “I’ll wait.”

And you knew—you knew—that no matter how much you tried to think about it, your heart had already decided.

#fic #au #fluff #svt #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen fluff #svt imagine #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt fluff #svt slowburn #svt x readers #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo x reader

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ckret2 · 3 days ago

Text

Chapter 84 of human Bill Cipher getting a day pass out of being the Mystery Shack's prisoner: so it turns out Bill and Pacifica have a lot in common! And it's not weird at all! It's—it's very normal. Their childhoods were so normal.

(Since this entire chapter is from the point of view of a character who doesn't know the person she's talking to is Bill, a PSA for those of y'all who missed it. Thanks.)

####

"Okay, that's as much as I can do to help your hair without deep conditioning it," Pacifica said. "Now let's talk about styling it."

They were back in Pacifica's office, with Goldie seated in his folding chair and Mabel sitting in Pacifica's desk chair (slowly spinning it back and forth) as Pacifica lectured them. Pacifica had given Goldie a spare t-shirt to dry his hair with (you could never have too much spare clothing on hand when you were dealing with farm animals), but he'd just loosely wrapped it around his hair and promptly ignored it.

Pacifica said, "You've got this issue where the weight of your curls pulls the top of your hair down and makes it flatten out near your scalp—but your hair's all the same length, so it really flares out near your shoulders. It's called triangle hair and it is not a cute look."

Goldie and Mabel bit their lips and exchanged a look, and Pacifica got the distinct impression that she'd accidentally reminded them about some inside joke she wasn't part of.

Trying to ignore the feeling that she was being left out of something, Pacifica cleared her throat and went on. "So, uh—you can fix it with like, layering your haircut and stuff? But. I don't actually... know how to do that." All her knowledge of curly hair and its care—much less fashionable haircuts—came from fashion and beauty magazines, which covered things like shampoo and flattering styles but assumed you'd leave the actual hair-cutting to the professionals. "So. I can get your curls presentable, and I guess we can figure out a way to pin it that looks nice? But that's the best I can do without an emergency salon trip."

"You sure we can't leave the triangle hair?" Goldie asked innocently. "I think it's cute. It really feels like me." Mabel clapped a hand over her mouth and snorted.

Pacifica raised her brows. "Do you want to feel like you, or do you want to get the guy?"

"Right, of course," Goldie said. "I almost forgot what's really important!"

Pacifica passed Goldie her phone. "Here—I wasn't sure what kind of look you were going for so I saved a few pictures of curly hair styles, let me know if you like any of these." She searched through the collection of makeup on her desk for the bobby pins and hair ties she'd picked up earlier. "The trend this year is for slicked-back styles, braids, and buns—but your curls are so pretty, I'd hate to hide them."

Mabel leaned halfway across the desk to try to see the pictures too; Goldie's held out the phone to meet her halfway as as he scrolled—and scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled. He said, "Good job narrowing down the list to a modest two hundred pictures."

Pacifica said, "Excuse me for wanting you to have options."

Mabel pointed. "Awww, look at that one with all the little butterfly hair clips!"

"It's like butterflies are eating her brain."

"And they look adorable doing it."

"Too juvenile for me. It looks like something Prisma the fairy would wear," Goldie said. "You should wear it."

Mabel's eyes lit up. "You've got to help me make fifty butterfly hair clips."

"You got it." He closed out of Pacifica's pictures, opened up the browser, and awkwardly typed in a search. "Hey, Alpaca, look at this one."

That was the second time he'd called her that. "Do you actually know my name?"

"Rapunzel." He held up a picture of some seventies movie star with thick, feathery hair that fluffed out around her face like the wings of a panicked swan trying to take off. "Think you can pull this one off?"

Pacifica grimaced. "You'd look like my mom." Except even worse and more old fashioned. (She kept that part to herself.)

Flatly, he said, "Oh no, how will I ever convince a male that I'm a prize worth winning if I literally look like a trophy wife."

That would be just about the only part of Goldie that looked like a trophy wife. (She kept that part to herself too.) "And we'd have to give you bangs."

As she suspected, Goldie grimaced and flipped to another image. At least he knew bang weren't for him. "How 'bout this one?"

It looked like a solid helmet of hair, with the ends uniformly curled outward like the embarrassing forced-whimsical hairstyle of the minions of an insane chocolatier. "Ew. That's about the only thing that could make you look even worse than you already do."

"Pacifica," Mabel said sharply. "Be nice!"

"Sorry!" She'd kept so many parts to herself that she didn't have any spare room to keep that part. "I can't do it, anyway. It would need a flat iron and a curling iron, and I don't have either."

"Can't we get some?" Goldie asked. "Any drug store should have 'em, it's a fifteen minute walk to—"

"I don't use them," Pacifica said sharply.

Goldie's stare was like a heat lamp—or maybe that was just self-consciousness heating up Pacifica's face as he scrutinized her. But after several long seconds, Goldie's gaze turned off her face. She quietly sighed in relief.

"Okay," he said. "Then this one." He showed her another picture. It had curly shoulder-length bangs, which wasn't really in style but fine, but behind them was a bouffant shaped like a deflating basketball with a wilting palm tree sprouting out of it.

Pacifica cringed. It was, unfortunately, doable. A note of pleading in her voice, she asked, "Are you really into this look? Really?"

("I think it's pretty," Mabel muttered.)

"Oh, no way!" Goldie said. "Look at that mess! That's way too much effort for a 'do that looks like she did it drunk in the dark in under two minutes."

(Mabel looked at Goldie like he'd personally betrayed her.)

"But," he went on, "it's what our guy is into, and that's what matters here. Right?"

Pacifica studied the picture dubiously. "You're sure?"

"He went through puberty in the 70s! When his libido opened its eyes for the first time, this is what it imprinted on."

Pacifica bit her lip. Well. At least Goldie didn't think it looked good, but. "Can I at least improve it a little?"

"Oh, please!"

She picked up the comb again and grabbed a couple of bobby pins. "No promises, but I'll do what I can."

Pacifica talked a big game, but in truth, she knew a lot more about the theory of hairstyles than she did about actually styling hair. You don't have to film a blockbuster to be a film critic. So at that point, all she could do was experiment with Goldie's hair as she attempted to approximate the picture he'd shown her. She circled around him as she worked—putting in pins, taking them out, occasionally asking him his opinion.

But although Goldie had previously been a non-stop chatterer, the moment she'd started working on his hair, he'd fallen silent.

He only glanced in the hand mirror she'd given him when she prompted him, and then only to give one-word answers—usually "fine." His shoulders were as tense and his mouth as tight as Pacifica's had been the first time she had to wash alpaca poop off the bottom of a boot. And Pacifica had nearly vommed, so, that was pretty serious.

Why? It couldn't be pain. Pacifica had gotten all the knots out of his hair earlier—and even when she wasn't using the comb, it was like she couldn't even move a lock of his hair without him wincing. She kept wanting to apologize even though she was just doing what he wanted her to.

There was something going on here. It wasn't just how uncomfortable he was with being touched. There was also the way he did an awful job of washing his hair even though he knew how to perfectly well. And how he'd rather let Mabel brush his hair into a frizzy mess than comb it out himself. And beyond all that, the first thing Pacifica had ever learned about him was that he'd gotten his hair melted off and needed emergency help to grow it back. "You... really don't like your hair, do you?"

"I like it fine. It's gorgeous." He was speaking through gritted teeth, and he had his legs crossed with his feet under his thighs, palms up in lap, eyes fixed on the blanket Mabel had made, as though having a staring contest with the triangle creep would help him endure the torture without flinching. "I just—don't like messing with it."

"Which is fine," Mabel cut in. "Because I like brushing it!" She quickly amended herself: "Combing it. We've got like a symbiotic relationship going on."

"Yeah! Star girl's my personal stylist! She does my hair and makeup. I wouldn't deprive her of that honor!"

Pacifica nodded slowly. Right—all that, and he was defensive about not taking care of it.

Not embarrassed because he didn't take care of it, it dawned on her; embarrassed because he couldn't take care of it. She had a sense for those sorts of things—a middle school queen bee had to develop that sense—because that was what you targeted if you really wanted to humiliate someone: something that they couldn't help. That was it, wasn't it? He'd said he was apathetic about his body; he didn't care that his hair was messy. Because if he did care that it was messy, he would have done something about it. Unless he couldn't. Like, a mental block.

As she tried for the eighth time to gather the bulk of his hair into an updo that looked sorta fun and casual without looking stupid, she turned over everything she knew about him—about his hair, his apathy, his shame... the things he'd said to her the moment they met, before they even got started.

It wasn't a logical deduction so much as it was an instinct, and just looking at Goldie it seemed impossible; but still she said, hesitantly, "Your mom made you do pageants as a kid, didn't she?"

Mabel sat up a little straighter, confused; but Goldie turned around to stare at her, dumbfounded. "How— What—makes you think that?"

Oh please. He wasn't fooling anyone, it was all over his face. "You're so weird about your hair. It's obviously trauma from your mom."

Beneath his sunburn, Goldie's burned cheeks somehow managed to flush even darker. He gaped at her, wide-eyed and terrified, like she was a psychic who had just told him how his own parents had died. He croaked, "What?"

Pacifica burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh, you should see your face! Listen, you're clearly familiar with pageant life. And I saw so many curly girls getting their hair mauled by their moms half an hour before going on stage. I don't blame you for being weird about touching it! I had it easy—" she flipped her naturally straight hair, "—but even at that, I can't stand using a flat iron to this day."

Goldie relaxed, apparently reassured that Pacifica hadn't read his mind. He settled back in his seat. "Oh, I dunno, I find the smell of burning hair comforting! It reminds me of home!"

"Ha! Okay, yeah, you do get used to it after a while." She started attempt number nine to gather up his curls. "I wouldn't have guessed when you came in. You don't look like a... I mean... you know. No offense."

"Well, duh, you can't tell now." He gestured at himself, "I lost my good looks. What I wouldn't give to have my old body back..." He sighed wistfully.

Pacifica held back a snort. Oh yeah. More than anything else he'd said so far, that convinced her he really was a former pageant kid. In her experience, every single pageant mom trying to relive her own beauty queen glory days through her daughter said things exactly like that.

Mabel said, "Aww..." She stretched a hand out toward Goldie, couldn't reach him across Pacifica's enormous desk, and with a grunt heaved herself up to lay across the top—knocking over a couple of the cosmetic supplies Pacifica had set up in the process—so she could pat his shoulder. "There, there."

"Thanks."

She slid back into her seat. "Did you really do pageants? You didn't tell me that." A note of betrayal crept into her voice.

"I didn't tell her either—" he jabbed a thumb at Pacifica, "—but here we are!" (Pacifica shrugged unapologetically.) "I've got a lotta backstory you're still catching up on."

"Well, yeah, but—you said you just did..." She grasped for the right words, and settled on, "build-y stuff with pageants."

"I didn't say that," he said breezily. Mabel scowled at him; but shot a look at Pacifica, and just sat back without saying anything, arms crossed, her feet audibly kicking at the inside of the desk.

He didn't seem as stressed about his hair while he was talking, Pacifica noticed. (Maybe that was why hairdressers were so chatty? Or maybe just because it was kind of weird to stick your hands in someone's hair for an hour in total silence.) She asked, "Which pageant systems did you compete in?"

"None you'd have heard about," Goldie said. "They weren't on this continent and it was like a trillion years ago." Before Pacifica could pry about which continent, he added, "Hey, fun fact! Didja know that the first beauty contest in Oregon was established here in Gravity Falls?"

"Pff, duh, of course I know that," Pacifica said. "It was established by the town founder, my great-great grandpa."

"Close, but no," he said gleefully. "It was established by the real town founder."

Pacifica grimaced. "Him? The crazy undead guy without pants? Ugh, no wonder we're the only pageant with a mandatory bird calls category."

"The first three competitions were actually won by birds! They only added a fashion category to balance out the birds' unfair advantage at birdsong. Quentin resigned from the judges' panel in protest."

"He should've taken the dumb birdsong requirement with him," Pacifica muttered. "They make the kids pageant do it too. I had to get a private tutor to learn how to whistle."

"That sounds fun, though," Mabel said. "I can do bird song! Grunkle Ford taught me some. Listen to this!" She let out an admittedly impressive moo.

"Not a bad cowl call," Goldie said. "You woulda killed it at the accompanying bird costume requirement."

Mabel gasped. "I can make feather wings. Hey, do you think I could compete?"

"Not unless you move to Oregon."

"Aww."

"We can still make wings, though," Goldie said.

Pacifica had never had to deal with the dumb bird costume requirement, thank goodness. That only started in the teen brackets. Which made her wonder—"How old were you when you quit? Pretty young, right? Like, no offense, but if you need teenagers to do your makeup..." If Goldie was living as a guy now, it'd make sense if he didn't wear makeup day-to-day; but if he'd stuck with pageants past like age ten, he would have at least learned how to do his own makeup.

"Ha! You're right. I started when I was young enough that my mom could dust glitter on my butt without getting weird looks! I quit around... equivalent to third or fourth grade in the States? She wanted me to keep going—so I said, 'You want me to perform? Fine then—I'll put on the best performance you've ever seen.' And that's exactly what I did!" Thoughtfully, he added, "But for some reason I didn't win the talent portion. I guess the judges weren't impressed that I could play the piano and set it on fire at the same time."

Pacifica cracked up. "Okay wow—I retired during the talent portion too, but how you did it is way more exciting. The year I was aging out of the 9-11 bracket, I kinda had a meltdown on stage over losing to some girl with a hula hoop? Yeah, I did not win supreme that year."

"You shoulda won talent just for that scream! You hit some impressively high notes." At Pacifica's odd look, Goldie said, "Saw it online."

Figured. That was probably coming back to haunt her in ten years. "It's weird. There's like... two ways pageant girls go—er, girls or guys or... whatever."

"Whatever," Goldie agreed.

"Yeah. Either they make it part of their identity? And keep up the makeup and fashion and everything, sometimes stick with pageants as teens or start modeling professionally? Which is what I did. Or they totally burn out, don't want anythingto do with the beauty industry, and just, like, wear sweats forever."

With a faint air of wounded pride, Goldie said, "It's the bedsheet sarong, isn't it."

"No offense! I'm just saying."

"I'll have you know it's laundry day and Jesús stole my clean clothes instead of my dirty laundry." (Pacifica decided to forgive him for the weird fish smell.) "You're looking at me at a low point, kid. I was actually a pretty snappy dresser up until... lllast summer."

Hearing Goldie call her kid gave Pacifica a little jolt of surprise. For a moment, she'd forgotten she was talking to somebody with an age; she'd started to feel like she was being visited by the immortal Spirit of Washed-Up Former Pageant Children. As if he'd died and stopped aging the same time he retired. "What happened last summer?"

Goldie looked at Mabel. "Yeah, what did happen last summer?"

"Um." Mabel froze. "He... lost it all in a... um... overseas parrot circus venture! Yeah—all the trained parrots escaped before the opening night of the circus and he lost all his money."

Goldie let out a shrill cackle. "I like that, I'm keeping that."

Okay, got it, it wasn't any of Pacifica's business. "I think... this is the best I can do with your hair." She stepped back. "Unless you want to pick a style that doesn't suck."

He gave himself a cursory glance in the hand mirror, immediately lowered it, and said, "Sucky style's fine!"

"Don't say that, you look so beautiful," Mabel said. "You look like a babysitter!"

"Well, it doesn't get much better than that." He dropped the mirror on the desk. "What's next?"

####

Next—finally—was the part they'd actually come here for: the makeup.

"Okay, I tried to get around the eyepatch while I was doing your hair, but you've got to take it off for this part," Pacifica said.

He groaned, but muttered, "Fine, I've put up with this tyranny so far," removed it, and looked at her with his previously-covered eye squinted against the light—which was the point at which Pacifica realized that he had eyepatch tan lines... around his other eye. How???

There was no fixing that before tomorrow. She bit her lips, shut her eyes, pressed her hands together, and took in a deep breath. Okay. She could handle this.

"Why do you even wear this?" She tossed the eyepatch to Mabel—it was one of those cheap costume pirate-y looking patches. "Is this one of the Mystery Shack's gimmicky touristy things? Both your eyes work! And wearing an eyepatch when you obviously don't need it is just tacky."

"I've got a neurological condition! Seeing through two eyes messes up my depth perception," Goldie said. "I get migraines if I don't keep one covered! Which is admittedly the most fun thing you can do to your brain without involving narcotics, but it makes it hard to keep down lunch!"

"Oh," Pacifica mumbled. Maybe she should just get to work before she shoved her foot any deeper in her mouth.

She started by slapping aloe vera on as much sunburned skin as she could reach, handed over the jar with strict instructions to apply more in the morning, and gave him an emphatic lecture on sunburns and sunscreen and skin damage that petered out when he cheerfully started telling her about skin cancer statistics. She changed the topic when he started listing his favorite kinds of skin cancer.

She stripped off the nail polish that Goldie had apparently gotten during one of Mabel's sleepovers, and repainted it with, at Pacifica's insistence, something more "mature." (She vetoed Mabel's suggestion to paint little hearts. She vetoed Goldie's request for gold. She gave him the choice between white French tips, pale pink, or solid red. He chose red.)

She hadn't anticipated that her customer would be in such dire straits that she'd need to shave him, so she didn't have any supplies for that; but she also ordered him to get his legs as smooth as the surface of a balloon as soon as he got home—"And do you think there's any chance this guy you're after will see your pits?" "He already has!" "Hm. Okay. Yeah, uh, get those anyway."—and informed him that she would report him to the police for vandalism if he "shaved" using whatever depilatory cream he'd previously used on his hair.

As she finished plucking his brows, she said, "Okay, I think you're finally in decent enough condition for actual makeup." She stepped back, took in his face, and said, "Barely." She grimaced. "I wish I'd bought a concealer with better coverage. I didn't know the situation was so bad."

To his credit, Goldie had taken her criticism (and occasional looks of horror) like a champ. He simply drawled, amused, "The body rituals of the Nacirema are as elaborate as they are bizarre."

She picked up a couple of the foundations she'd bought and held them up next to the eye that had been protected by the eyepatch tan line, trying to determine which one was a closer match for whatever his skin tone was when he wasn't burned. "Who're the Nacirema? One of the tribes that used to live around here?"

"They're still in the area. Look 'em up."

Pacifica thought the darker foundation was closer; she tested it on his inner arm to be sure. "So, how much makeup do you already know how to apply? Any?"

"I can do mascara, eyeliner, and mascara."

"Riiight. Okay, both of you pay attention to what I'm doing." She evicted Mabel from her desk chair and dragged it around in front of Goldie's folding chair. "Because I will not be coming over to do this tomorrow, so the two of you will have to repeat this yourself. Here." She handed Goldie a mirror so he could watch her work.

Mabel hopped up to sit on the desk next to Goldie. "You have one hundred percent of my attention!" She immediately looked away from Pacifica at the makeup brushes laid out on the desk, picked up a fan brush curiously, and started dragging it up and down her arm. "Ooh. Tickly."

"Emphasize my eyes," Goldie said. "They're my best feature. You can forget about everything else, but my eyes have to look good."

Pacifica looked at his eyes. Pacifica really looked at his eyes.

There was something wrong with his eyes.

She decided to stop looking at his eyes. "Okaaay, great great great, you've got suuuper long lashes, that's fantastic. We can totally draw attention there. You don't even need fake lashes. And you've got nice big prominent eyes. Kinda bulgy, but that should be easy to hide with eyeshadow. I'm thinking maybe a smokey eye?"

"What about metallics? Like gold?" Goldie asked innocently. "Kind of a retro 'secret agent villainess' look, don't you think! It'd bring out the yellow in my eyes!"

Pacifica said, "You do not want to bring out your jaundice."

"Don't tell me what I want."

"No gold eyeshadow," Pacifica said. "Period. If you want to experiment with color, we can try a smoky eye in burgundy. Burgundy is hot this year."

Goldie muttered something about welcoming a bottle of burgundy right now, then said, "Fine! Burgundy."

(As Pacifica looked through her makeup palettes for the burgundy, Bill leaned over to Mabel and whispered, "Do we have any leftover gold eyeshadow?" Mabel nodded and winked. Bill winked back.)

"What about the rest of your face?"

"Skip it."

"I'm not letting you go bare-faced aside from your eyes," Pacifica said. "But we can do a natural makeup look."

"That's so boring," Mabel said. She was dragging the fan brush over her lips now. "If it looks natural why's he wearing any makeup at all?"

Goldie said, "Because humans are insane about the most uninteresting things."

As Pacifica worked her way through the foundation, concealer—she decided his sunburned skin had enough of a sun-kissed glow that she could skip bronzer—and contouring, she said, "You are... really good at holding still when you try." He'd gone completely still, like a statue. A statue that was making direct eye contact with her soul. She felt a bead of sweat slide down her neck. She wasn't sure he was breathing.

"He's super good," Mabel agreed. "It's kinda creepy."

"Thanks!" And just like that, he was smiling and alive again. "I do a lot of meditating! Gimme a focal point to watch and I can go like two billion years!"

"You didn't learn from...?"

"Pageants? Ha! No way, I was the wiggliest little demon you've ever seen. It drove my mom nuts when she was trying to do my lashes. She used to say 'If you love me, hold still' to keep me in place—but you know how contrary kids are when they're mad! Eventually I got fed up and said, 'Well then, maybe I don't love you!' And she didn't speak to me for three days." Goldie laughed. "Ahh, I had the most dramatic mom."

"Wow, my mom would kill me if I ever tried something like that—especially if it was in public where people could see us," Pacifica said. "She hired makeup artists so I'd struggle against them instead of her. Your mom did your makeup? Did she ever hire anyone?"

"Nooo way. We ran our operation on a razor-thin budget to maximize the profits from my winnings. The name of the game was efficiency!"

"My mom's sure wasn't," Pacifica said. "(Shut your right eye, I've got to get your eyeshadow.) We went through like, fifty makeup artists or something. Sometimes more than one while prepping for the same pageant." She lowered her voice a tad, "A couple times when the makeup artist was a creep, I messed up my own makeup just so Mom would fire them."

"Ha! Suckers. Yeah, that's probably how it woulda gone if my mom had handed me off to a makeup artist. I was not afraid to sic her on adults! We didn't have any hired help when I was that age, but the principal was terrified of her. And if another kid at a competition was getting on my nerves, I'd go crying to her that they pushed me and oh, man, she'd come down on their parents like the asteroid on Chicxulub."

"Me too! There was this girl in third grade who was so... I don't know, just—" she pulled a face, "eugh, you know? I complained to mom about her and got her family blacklisted by the whole town. They had to move out of the state just to get a job."

Goldie laughed loudly. "Now that is impressive!"

Pacifica's gut shifted uncomfortably. Was it? "Other eye now." She didn't speak for a moment as she tried to get both eyes matching. "Actually... it was... kinda scary?"

She'd asked her mom if she could puh-lease get this girl out of Pacifica's class. She'd just expected the girl to be switched to another teacher.

Instead, over the next few weeks, she heard about the girl's mother losing her job, then her father. Her older brother got kicked out of the local Future Lumberjacks of America chapter. One day the girl came to school in tears after being cut from the softball team. A couple months later, the girl's friends—the two that hadn't drifted away from her as her family became pariahs—threw her a tearful goodbye party during lunch with a mall-bought cookie cake; and the next day, she was gone forever.

After that first time Pacifica had complained about her classmate, her mom had never once mentioned the girl or her family. She never asked if Pacifica had any more trouble with her. Not even when they left town. It was as though, after her mom ground them under her heel, they were beneath her notice. Just four crushed ants.

But Goldie was staring at her, frowning in confusion, like she didn't make any sense. "What—scary for the other kid?" he asked. "Sure. It's supposed to be, isn't it?"

Pacifica didn't reply for a second. I'm afraid of how good she was at doing exactly what I asked her to do without realizing I was asking for it—that sounded stupid. Finally, she said, "Don't wrinkle your face like that, I haven't set your foundation yet. It'll make it cake up."

"Your moms sound insane," Mabel said. While they'd been swapping stories about their childhoods, she'd been staring at them, chin in one hand, chewing on the fan brush's bristles. "Were you guys tortured growing up?"

"Pfff, what? No, of course not!" Pacifica said. "My parents would never. You've only seen my mom's worst side, she's not really that bad. I mean—not to me. She's horrible to poor people, but that's different."

Goldie said, "Yeah, my mom was my biggest defender! If anyone tried to hold me back, she'd rip them a new one."

"But—forcing you to do pageants until you have a breakdown?" Mabel said, glancing between Goldie and Pacifica, mouth twisting up like the words tasted sour. "Guilting you into wearing makeup and attacking other parents and stuff? That's nuts."

"It's not like that," Pacifica said automatically, then tried to figure out what it was like.

"Now we're calling a kid's temper tantrum a breakdown? You've got a future career in propaganda, star girl," Goldie said wryly. "It's a mom's job to bring out a kid's potential, right? Sure, it drove me nuts at the time—but kids don't want their potential brought out, kids are lazy!" He shrugged, "Yeah, my parents weren't perfect—they didn't really 'get' me, they held me back from reaching my full potential because they couldn't see what it was—but I'd never have gotten on the road to unlocking my potential myself if they hadn't put me on the right path as a kid."

Pacifica nodded. "Totally! That's just normal mom stuff! My parents are exactly the same—they don't get my alpaca business at all—but there's no way I'd be running a business at thirteen if my mom hadn't pushed me to be the best I can be. Or supporting my alpacas through modeling if I hadn't learned how to present myself in the pageant system. Even mini-golf was just a hobby until my parents got me a coach and started taking me to competitions."

"And I wouldn't be the huge success I am today without those early lessons in public speaking!"

Mabel shot Goldie a meaningful look. He pointed at her. "Don't say a word. I've had a bad year, you can't judge me by that. Anyone could've lost their parrots in a freak accident."

"And some kids had it way worse," Pacifica said. "Some parents would hit their kids or scream at them for messing up their routines or getting distracted? Those girls never lasted long, you can tell if a contestant's just going through the motions because she's scared. I was never treated like that. My pageant coach taught my parents to use a 'warning bell,' when they rang it that was my warning to stop goofing off and focus on practicing or listen to them or whatever. They'd pay me in chocolate if I got back in line."

"Ha!" Goldie smacked the desk, "Oh wow, that's hilarious! Pageant coach Pavlov. My parents would have loved that when I was in the toddler competitions."

"Right?!" Pacifica laughed. "Now I'm like, wow, I used to be bribable with a piece of chocolate? Kids are sooo easy to manipulate."

"But hey, it's a good life lesson: the occasional reward and the fear of punishment is a lot more effective at keeping people in line than actual punishments."

Pacifica nodded thoughtfully. "Wow. That's so insightful."

"See?" Goldie beamed at Mabel. "Pageants teach kids all kinds of useful things! Ambition, poise, charisma, self-confidence, social skills..."

She grimaced. "Yeah, but... all the restrictions and pressure and trauma and stuff? That really sounds bad."

"I think you're just bitter that you can't enter the birdsong contest."

She kicked his arm. "I'm serious!"

He pushed back her shoe and waved her off dismissively. "It only sounds bad to you because you were never in the pageant world! It's got its own rituals and expectations, of course it looks weird to outsiders."

"And everyone judges pageants so much more harshly than other competitive sports—which is what pageants basically are," Pacifica said. "Like, pageants and competitive mini-golf took just as much practice, just as much coaching, just as much time and money—but in real life, knowing how to make myself look presentable and talk to adults has helped me way more often than knowing how to knock a ball into a hole. Mini-golf only saved my life once."

"Charisma will get you everywhere," Goldie agreed. "It's the most effective form of mind-control you can do without psychically rewiring someone's neurons."

"Basically! But getting a medal at the Sportlympics has everyone talk about how skilled and hard-working and dedicated you are, and getting a tiara in a national pageant gets people who have never even watched a pageant calling you a bimbo. Like, what?"

"Blatant double standards!" To Mabel, Goldie said, "Both your parents work in Silicon Valley. Their priority is intelligence and grades instead of looks and charisma, so that's why you and your brother get pushed in school—but it's all the same! Parents push their kids to be successful whatever way they know how."

Mabel stared into space. "Huh." She fell silent, gnawing on the fan brush's handle—pondering whether her parents worrying about her so-so grades was comparable to the pageant moms desperate for their daughters' straight hair to be straighter and curly hair to be curlier.

Smugly, Goldie went on, "If anything, the pageant circuit was more useful than school. I—"

"(Stop moving around, I've got to do your other eye.)"

Goldie obediently leaned forward and shut his other eye. "I went from pageants straight into public speaking. I had an entire career before I was out of school. Everyone loved me! I was a natural in the spotlight!"

"Really?" Pacifica said dubiously. She could buy that he might have been a competitor as a kid, but honestly, he seemed pretty creepy to her. Enough confidence could carry you pretty far, but...

He rolled his open eye. "Don't take that tone with me. It was before you were born! And like I said—I've lost my looks. I used to be..."

He trailed off, staring down at his nail polished hands like he didn't recognize them.

He muttered, "I used to be so much better than this."

Mabel reached out and rubbed his upper arm comfortingly.

Sometimes Pacifica caught her mom staring in a mirror, studying her face with an expression somewhere between nervous and depressed, gently touching her fingertips to the thin lines beginning to appear around her eyes and mouth as though she were examining gruesome wounds. Her mother had always said that looks are everything; and even though she didn't talk about her feelings directly, from the way she sometimes snapped at Pacifica to keep up her skincare—moisturizer, sunscreen, hydration, don't frown too hard—Pacifica thought maybe she wasn't worried about Pacifica's face so much as her own.

Goldie only had the faintest traces of the start of wrinkles, unnoticeable if Pacifica hadn't just spent the past few minutes plastering foundation on his face. She wondered how old he was. She wondered whether he had the same fear her mother did: that his body was letting him down, slowly dying all around him.

You don't go through the child pageant world without learning two things: everyone wants you to look and act older than you are; and the older you get, the less anyone wants you.

"I've got to do your lips," Pacifica said, picking out a couple of options: a red so bright it was nearly orange (totally in this year), a nice glossy nude that ought to be a close match to Goldie's natural lip color. "Did you want to stick with the natural look, or...?"

He glanced up from his hands at the offered lipsticks. "What the heck," he sighed. "Let's make it red."

Pacifica nodded. "Pooch your lips out for me, like this." And that was the last they spoke for a while.

####

(Here's your regular TBOB report: no actual plot was changed due to TBOB. I added in a few lines referencing it: the imagery of Priscilla grinding normal people beneath her heel is meant to be reminiscent of Pacifica's giant nightmare on TINAWDC; the "meditating" for specifically two billion years is a direct reference to the barber pole, although I'd already headcanoned that Bill can meditate/dissociate for absolutely vast quantities of time; I already had dialogue where he goes on the importance of charisma and how much everyone adored him as a kid, but I tossed in another sentence or two about charisma just because of how strongly he emphasizes it in TBOB; and originally I had dialogue where Bill went on about what big supporters his parents were, even though he privately feels like they didn't get him—all I changed was deciding to make him admit to some of those feelings out loud, since it's something he says outright in TBOB. I've imagined that he tends to swing between "they were the best/they were the worst" based on how he's feeling at the time with no neutral ground in between—whiiich lines up pretty well with what TBOB gave us.

And unrelated but I spent way too long researching makeup & hair trends in the 70s and in 2013. I had no idea orange lipstick was hot for a while. My idea of doing makeup is painting my nails once every six years.

Hope y'all enjoyed, and I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts! I've been eager to dive into this aspect of Bill's backstory and Pacifica's POV for a while.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #pacifica northwest #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(god i hate the chapters from the POV of characters who don't know they're interacting with Bill)#(calling him the wrong name the whole chapter is torture. I kept having to correct his name. ... un-correct his name?)

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theodorenmyth · 3 days ago

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Hey in love w you page!!! Sooo my request is kind of a song I think it's from Selena gomez " and what hurts the most is people can go from people you know to people you dont" fiction for Theodore and Mattheo maybe like they change and become distant after getting popular.sorry for any grammar mistakes it's not my first language.thank you in advance:)))

People you know.

Pairings : Mattheo x G/N!Reader x Theodore

Summary : Mattheo and Theodore were once your closest friends—until they weren’t. Slowly, they grew distant, leaving you behind without explanation. When you finally confront them, their indifference cuts deeper than any excuse. The worst part? They didn’t even try to hold on.

A/n ; Heeyy!! Did you miss me? I sure missed all of you. Happy late New year's for all of you mythies :3

Warnings ; ANGST, LITERAL ANGST.

Word count ; 900+

At first, it’s nothing.

Mattheo doesn’t sling his arm over your shoulder anymore, doesn’t ruffle your hair when you’re sitting too focused in class, doesn’t smirk at you like you share a secret no one else could understand.

Theodore stops waiting for you after lessons, doesn’t save you a seat in the library, doesn’t tilt his head with that soft, knowing look when you’re too tired to speak.

It’s fine, you tell yourself. They’re busy. Everyone is busy.

They’ll come around.

But then it gets worse.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

You walk into the Great Hall one morning, still groggy from sleep, expecting to find them at your usual spot at the Slytherin table. It’s routine—something you’ve done a hundred times. You’ll sit between them, Theo will shove a book at you and tell you to read something he finds interesting, and Mattheo will steal half your food off your plate and act offended when you try to take it back.

But today, your seat is taken.

Not just occupied—claimed.

Mattheo is leaning in close to some girl, laughing at something she’s saying, his hand brushing against hers on the table. Theodore is across from him, muttering something under his breath to a group of students you barely recognize, his sharp, intelligent eyes focused intently on whatever conversation he’s involved in.

They don’t look up when you approach.

You hesitate for a second, your heart stuttering.

It’s fine. Maybe they just didn’t see you.

“Hey,” you greet, sliding your hands into your pockets to ground yourself.

Mattheo glances up, his expression blank for a second before something flickers over his face—like he wasn’t expecting you.

“Oh. Hey.”

There’s something cold in the way he says it, something distant that sinks deep into your ribs.

You glance at Theo, expecting him to say something, anything, but he barely acknowledges you. Just gives the smallest nod, like you’re just another face in the crowd.

Like you’re not you.

You wet your lips, trying to keep your voice steady. “Are we still studying later?”

Mattheo scratches the back of his neck, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Uh. Probably not. Got plans.”

Plans.

You wait for him to elaborate. To say something about catching up later, about rescheduling, about anything.

But he doesn’t.

Neither does Theodore.

Something tightens in your throat. You nod once, quickly, and step back. “Right.”

No one stops you as you walk away.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Days pass. Then weeks.

And soon, you realize they aren’t just busy. They aren’t just distracted.

They’re gone.

Not physically. No, they’re still there, in the same places, sitting at the same tables, walking down the same halls. But they aren’t your Theo and Mattheo.

Not anymore.

You’re not sure when exactly it happens—the moment they stop waiting for you after lessons, the moment they stop saving you a seat at the table, the moment your inside jokes stop landing because you aren’t included in them anymore.

But the distance is undeniable now.

One night, you’re in the common room, staring blankly at the fire, your mind tangled in memories you don’t want to let go of. You’re tired. Tired of feeling like you’re chasing ghosts, of grasping at something that keeps slipping through your fingers.

And then they walk in.

Laughing.

Not just laughing—carefree.

Mattheo is grinning as he shoves Theo’s shoulder, murmuring something that makes Theo chuckle under his breath. They move easily, in sync, the way they always have—except this time, you’re not a part of it.

And what makes it worse—so much worse—is that they don’t even see you.

Not until you make them.

You push yourself up from the couch, crossing the room with steady, deliberate steps.

“We need to talk.”

Mattheo sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Now?”

You swallow hard. “Yes. Now.”

Theodore exhales sharply, looking tired already. “What’s this about?”

You almost laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Mattheo raises a brow. “What’s your problem?”

Your problem.

Anger flares in your chest, sudden and sharp. “My problem is that you two have been acting like I don’t fucking exist.”

Mattheo shifts, crossing his arms. “You’re being dramatic.”

You feel like the air is sucked out of your lungs. “Dramatic?”

Theodore sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Things change.”

You stare at him, disbelief curling in your stomach. “And I guess I just wasn’t part of those changes?”

Silence.

You let out a sharp breath, your hands balling into fists. “Did I do something?”

Mattheo looks away.

Theodore doesn’t say anything.

And that’s when you know.

That’s when it hits you—really hits you—that this isn’t something you can fix. This isn’t some fight you can smooth over, some misunderstanding that can be cleared up with the right words.

You’ve already lost them.

And the worst part?

They don’t even care.

Your throat feels tight, like you’re holding back something too painful to name. “I thought we were—” You inhale sharply, shaking your head. “I thought we were more than this.”

Mattheo doesn’t look at you.

Theodore stays silent.

And that? That fucking silence is worse than any excuse they could have given.

You nod slowly, stepping back. “I guess I just didn’t realize how easy it was for you both.” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. “To go from people I knew to people I don’t.”

For a split second—just a second—Theo’s expression flickers. Like maybe there’s something left.

But it’s gone too fast.

Mattheo looks away first.

Theodore follows.

And neither of them stop you as you walk away.

And that’s what hurts the most. And maybe, just maybe, that’s where the story of you, Mattheo, and Theodore truly ends.

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eeboyysworld · 2 days ago

Note

Hello! Hope you're having a nice day. If you're taking requests, could i ask for Dae-Ho x male reader? Thank you! :)

“ I know you wanna kiss me-“

—⋆. 𐙚⋆.˚

Genre: Smut

Kang Dae-ho X Male!Reader

Cautions/Warnings: Praise kink, Enemies to (not) lovers, Teasing, Hair pulling, hand job, Dae-ho pops a boner and you’re the most decent person to help.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Pain swirled inside your ankle, a purple mark forming there. You just had to twist it , didn’t you.

the previous game left a huge mark on you, a large turning compartment in the middle of the room.

Mingle, that’s what it was called.

People fighting for their life’s, shoving and pushing innocent (or not) people into the ground, that includes you. Getting slammed to the hard ground froze you on the spot, the pain coming in waves.

You would had died. If it wasn’t for the man , whom you had bothered the past days of being in this hell hole, saved you.

Getting out of his own way to drag your limp body into the blood covered room.

Dae-ho, Cheery despite the situation, cracking jokes but remains serious when needed. You didn’t know him outside these games, but being divided into two groups, ‘x and o’ , you had no choice but to dislike them.

You voted to stay inside the games, the debt and reality of the outside world crashing down on you. It was stupid , voting for your own death.

You had every reason to thank him endlessly for giving you another chance at life, bowing towards him.

Despite the brawls the two of you got in, he shook the past aside , reassuring that ‘you would do the same for him.’

———

The bed you resided on was comfortable enough to rest on, the metal underneath the thin material digging into you.

The state your foot was left in wasn’t half bad , considering it had been a couple hours since then.

The bruise still contrast to your skin.

Rice mushing around your mouth, the flavour dull as you could taste the fork more than the food.

Swashing it down with a bottle of milk.

Your bottom became sore after sitting on it for the past hours , during the time passing you had been accept into this little group.

Diverse people combined into one alliance, to stop the games. The new faces marking a memory in your head.

A few of them offering their bread and milk towards you and another young girl.

Flustered under their gazes, smiling accepting the offer with a thanks.

Sluggishly nibbling the crust, zoning in and out of conversations. You tried your best to not get attached to them, dreadfully knowing sooner or later you’ll all die.

Despite the Traumatic scenes that unfolded Infront of all of you, one person lifted the mood.

The smiling marine kept making advances towards you, keeping you company.It was sweet, the two of you talking about the past and hopes for whatever future you could get.

Guilt crept at you, apologizing for the harm you caused.

“This place can make a person crazy.” Patting your upper thigh as he spoke,” I don’t blame you, we were on different sides only trying to survive.” His gaze felt heavy, lowering your own head, attention drifting to the ,used to be, white shoes.

“If I could..” stammering the words out,” In any way- I would repay you.” Your leg involuntary bouncing.

He paid no response, staring off into the distance, eyes glinting with uncertainty.

The silence between you guys hadn’t flatter, even with the voices and shouts in the background.

You guys sat like that until an announcement rang, lights dimming as the hallway lights shined through, casting a glow just enough to navigate.

Having the need to stay up, you accepted the challenge of fighting sleep to keep watch. Nestling yourself in between two bunk beds.

The night rolling on , countless snores and conversations could be heard.

An hour in of keeping guard, flinching when a hand slapped your shoulder, suddenly becoming aware of your surroundings.

Dramatically exhaling as the familiar face appeared before you. “Ah..you scared me.”

A nervous chuckle left him, slotting himself beside you. He felt off, energy leeching off of him.

You had notice the way he slumped, eyes twitching to get a glimpse of you, fingers digging into his pants.

Neither of you spoke, stealing ‘risky’ glances towards each other. It went on like that , before he finally got the courage to voice his thoughts.

“I .. have a problem..” concern adorned you, had he been hurt last game? , whispering your question.

Getting a shake of a head left you wondering what happened. “I was just thinking..you were the only one who could help.”

Biting his lip, gulping as he muttered.

Barely hearing it, kindly asking him to speak up a bit.

Locking his eyes onto you, “ It’s.. uhm-“ cutting himself off, licking his lips as a habit.

Letting the quietness settle before speaking, “ D-down..theree.” Dragging the ‘e’ to a halt.

Huh.. taking a peak downwards, curiosity getting the better of you. Eyes slightly widening, catching the bulge between his legs. Wow.

Now..what would a rational person do in this situation. Kindly turn down the offer. But you were not rational.

Turning your body to the side, bringing your gaze to his face, making eye contact.

It had suddenly become too hot in this place. Feeling your face tingling from his attention.

“Oh..” there was practically butterflies swooning inside you, he wants you to help him.

He was quick to apologize for making you uncomfortable, steadily getting up, bowing towards you. He knew he shouldn’t have asked..

But before he could get away , a hand grabbed onto his loose shirt, pulling the other closer to you.

The feeling of arousal pooling inside you, whispering so that no one but you two could hear.

“I would love to help you.” Was it the fact you pitted him for popping a boner out of all places, maybe , he was rather cute, a perfect face to be ruined by you.

He was shocked to say the least, trying to regain composure only to be pushed to the bed farthest away.

You kept on your feet , despite just recovering from the injury you endured,while he was seated.

Greedy hands exploring his body, flushed face inches away from you. He was so close to your lips he can feel your breath.

It was awkward in the moment, as he never was this close to you, he shyly thanked you for doing this for him.

You could only smile, the soft lights shining both of you, silhouettes dancing on the walls.

muttering , “I told you I would repay you..” eyes wandering across his face, noticing every detail you could drink up.

Becoming shy under such gaze, the other melted into the comfort of the bed.

Trailing your hands downwards, ruffling the stained tracksuit. Your body moving with your hands, dropping to your knees.

The soft thud bouncing off the arena, the rough floor digging into the your flesh.

He was like jelly under your touch, folding as skilled hands gripped his waist, every touch riling him up more.

Breathe fawning his clothed bulge, it was like you were examining him. He peered at you, mouth agape.

He nearly yelped as you lunged frontwards, throwing his palm to silence the sounds.

You sat there knees spread slightly aprat, mouthing the fabric, saliva seeping through the material, the warm wetness lubricating himself.

His other hand shakily made its way to your head, softly resting on the head of hair. You didn’t want it just sitting there.

Roughly grabbing his fingers to thread the locks, swapping your tongue out to cause a reaction out of him, the sensation made his fingers grip.

Muffled apologies hidden behind his palm, neck tense from how he contained himself.

You continued to torment the poor guy, keeping his junk in his pants. He was frustrated and sensitive to the touch.

Mouth kept working towards him, pants dark from the amount of spit on it, outlining his length.

He couldn’t even do anything about it, he couldn’t scream and beg you to touch him, that would end bad.

Left to squirm and whine in his seat.

After you felt decent about your work, pulling yourself away, admiring him.

“Try to be quiet, ay?” It was a statement, you couldn’t have him moaning into the air, not when you knew the other people now.

Shoving your hand into the tracksuit, slipping through the others boxers,

Feeling the pre-cum drip down along with your spit, creating the perfect natural lube.

Steadily dragging downwards and up, purring sweet nothings, “ Aw, hold on a little longer..” slipping up and down, fastening the pace. “You’re doing so good for me.”

Your words went straight to his head, not the one on-top his shoulders.

The hand he chose to mouth on had a red mark, the other settled into your locks of hair, tightening and letting loose.

Sounds of desperation could be heard if someone listened too intently.

It was too much , the soft padding of your hand left him a mess. You kept reducing the speed before fastening it up, the stimulation was overbearing.

Finger playing with his angry tip, the touch as light as a feather, yet it had him stuttering. “Mm- m-more..”

He was heavy in your hand, was practically throbbing.

“ You deserve it ..don’t you?” You were playing with him, watching the desperate head nods.

Continuing to stoke him, leading him to Chase his high , thrusting into your hand.

Bed ever so slightly squeaking with the weight of his body moving up and down.

You let him rut into you like a dog, his hair tie loosening up, hair pieces flowing out.

You let him rock his hips in your hold, only choosing to add pressure back and forth.

Dick twitching, incoherent words stammering into the air. “Please.. I’m so c-close..”

Taking pity, you began to move with him, lining the timing perfectly.

He basically humped your hand, gripping your hair , moving you along with him. Letting him to use your body.

His stomach held a pit that kept growing, throwing his head backwards, biting his hand to keep silent.

The body movement he made told you he was close, moving your hand the fastest you can, the sounds encouraging you onward.

He spoke your name like a prayer, face flushed with the amount of heat he felt, the urge to just say fuck it and throw you onto the bed.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wanna do that, despite all the people. Images flashed through him, he didn’t think he could imagine such things.

Your mouth on him as he fucked your face, he would be the one setting the pace, not you.

He could feel himself twitch.

Breathe ragged as he let himself spill into you, pulsing in your hand, body becoming limp in the hold.

Sitting there before slowly moving, long breaths leaving him.

The feeling of your hand leaving, taking the warmth with you. He whimpered from lost of contact like a kicked puppy.

Instead of wiping the evidence away, you decided to lick at it, swirling the liquid away into your warm mouth.

He was left agape , eyes focused on the way your tongue came out to lap it up, head tilted towards him, fluttering your eyes at him.

That’s one way to get rid of it.

The saltiness was bittersweet.

Latching off with a pop, moving to your feet, legs sore from sitting down. Guiding the other into you, lips finding his.

Nipping at him, slotting your tongue inside , letting the taste of bitterness sweep all over.

Moans vibrated through the both of you, hands finding what it can to ground into.

A shout had you yanking away, fearing you had hurt the other man.

“I didn’t see anything.” Slowly turning to the side, making eye contact you didn’t want to make with the most nonchalant man you ever met.

Greeting him with a ,”Good morning Young-il..”

You didn’t expect that scream to lead to that face.

———

I did not finish this when i said i would ❤️

#squid game x male reader #kang dae ho #dae ho x reader #dae ho x you #male reader #smut #don’t like don’t read #young il #it’s all over the screen #gay #squid game

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pinkyqily · 2 days ago

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TWO HOOLIGANS INLOVE | JuJu watkins x teammate!reader

Summary: Just you and juju acting foolishly in front of the press

Warning: fluff, use of yn a few times

A/n: This isn't accurate to the actually games so don't bite me, fic is apart of my new series called hooligans inlove this isn't the first part so watch out for that, if you have any juju requests send em my way if you have any feedbacks feel free to leave them happy reading readers 🌹

Usc had just won the game against uconn. You, juju, and Ray had been called for media. After a phenomenal performance from the three of you.

coach knew it was going to be crazy having you and juju up there, but with Ray too, she could only hope y'all would be on your best behavior.

"Now, before you guys head up there, I need you to be on your best behaviors. She told all three of you, "Come on, coach me and yn are good, juju just the problem here." Ray told coach while sending diggers towards juju way

"There's no way I'm getting blamed right now." JuJu yelled, losing her so-called nonchalant chil.

"Can we get going already? No one has time for you two idoits arguing." You told the two girls as you make your way to the conference room." Bro, hold on." You didn't have to turn your head around hearing your annoying girlfriend and teammate calling you, bro.

"Who are you calling bro Judea?". You said out as you stopped in your tracks, staring at juju with your arms crossed around your chest. Ray voice Intervene swinging her arms around you and juju.

"Come on guys, let's not argue."

"If she calls me bro one more time, it gonna end up with more than an argument." You told them both. JuJu, who knew what was best for her, stopped calling you bro but couldn't wipe away the stupid smirk on her face as you guys sat down.

The press was going well Juju and Ray made a few jokes here and there when answering questions until it was your turn to answer some Juju had decided now was the perfect time to be distracting you.

Anytime you got a question she would turn her whole head and body towards you as she looked deep in your eyes not taking off contact.

"So what do you think about this win against uconn and how we're you guys able to come back from previous games?" A reporter asked directing the question to you.

"Um the win was definitely a hard fought and we definitely brought in our all I think we're able to learn from our previous game against,

them on what to do and not to do-.you stopped mid sentence to say, "ju can you stop staring at me like your life depends on it." You told the girl as you guys secretly held hands under the table.

"I'm doing no such thing." She said after looking away.

"Whatever." You told her, but this time yanking your hand away from hers under the table only for her to grab it back

"Can y'all stop wasting the people's time?" Ray spoke up with a slight teasing tone, she was stuck sitting in the middle of two drunk inlove players while it was entertaining she didn't want to be no 3rd wheel

"Um, sorry for that interruption." cough cough as you did that while side eying juju.

"One last question for juju, what did you think of yn performance today and how she contributed to the team performance wise".

"I think that her performance today was topnotch, probably one of her best, she contributed a lot by getting really involved with defense and offensive if I can say so myself she brings a lot to the team when she can".

You found yourself starring back into juju eyes as she spoke there was always something about her that made you feel all warm inside you couldn't tell if it was because you haven't let her hand go or something else.

It felt like only you two were in the room, and that's until Ray voice brought you back to earth. "I think you both got staring problems at this point." She told you as the room erupt with laughter.

Anyone in there could sense the growing tension between you and juju. From the way you both spoke about each other to the not so subtle touches, anyone could tell you're both madly in love.

You guys got up heading back to the rest of them, team.

"Ugh, I can already see the edits coming about you two so nasty." Ray told y'all as she made a gaging sound.

"Oh please, they aren't that bad". You told her

"Not bad, juju was basically undressing you with her eyes, and you sat there eating it up."

"Not my fault that my girl a baddie." JuJu said as her hand brushed against yours. It was little things like this that got you worked up, and she knew it.

"At least I've been promoted from bro to my girl." You told both girls making them laugh.

Before you knew it, clips from the press were already going viral.

Some people called juju whipped sum saying, "You we're complaining even though you were down bad for juju too, people fighting about you guys being gf while others disagree and say you're a couple."

#juju watkins #juju watkins x reader #juju watkins x teammate reader #juju watkins imagine #wbb #usc women’s basketball #usc wbb x reader #wbb x reader #wbb fic #wcbb x reader #wcbb fanfics #wbb imagine #ncaa wbb #usc trojans #usc wbb #wbb oneshot #wbb fanfiction #wbb fluff #juju watkins fanfics

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grendil9 · 3 days ago

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"removing the constitution from the website" it's stuff like this that gives hints to goy, just enough to keep the smarter ones quiet and uninterested, that all of the insane "reactions" are indeed the true and sole purpose of "the government" otherwise known as polslop.

You're supposed to say "Uh, actually, they were just taking the constitution down for maintenance". You're supposed to say that. They need you to say that, you dumb slave. The purpose of people talking about how they did that is to make you comment. The purpose of them removing the constitution for a few hours or whatever, and then drawing attention to it in every post by every liberal-team bot on social media, is to make you comment. There was no maintenance, they need your comments. They need your belief. There are no teams, one single entity decides on which funny things to do to keep you commenting, and this is just one of them.

Every "event" like this, is just, quite literally, just a dumb show. Browbeating the weak and innocent into insane beliefs, culminating in self-castration (trans), and demoralizing the intelligent and capable into submission. Making the more perceptive goy say: "Maybe we deserve this dumb show that hurts people and conquers peoples minds, after all look how effective it is on my foolish brothers and sisters."

Polslop's existence renders the masses incapable of unity. There's no chance people who actually believe the dumb polslop, and all the stupid cartoon characters like trump and michelle and biden and shit, and people who don't believe in any of it, could ever really get along outside of immediate necessity. And of course they're so easily mislead already.

The "trump will save us" people are a damned people. Anyone who believes that government is real is going to be left behind by God. It's idolatry. It's a gay drag show with trump making gay drag queen insults for Adult Men to lap up. It just fucking sucks, way worse now that all the pageantry disappeared with Obama. It's just so gay and hopeless and demoralizing. How could you still believe government is real? How can you believe that that wailing shemale bag makes any important decisions at all. What a joke!

As far as I'm concerned if you believe that any single actor or group of actors in any government in the world makes any decision at all, you're defeated. You're ruled by evil. Every politician on earth is a golem with a round golem-male body or stick-thin emaciated golem-female body. They just exist to zombie-walk around on stages with their flabby soulless conscienceless corpses, and beautiful expensive masonic suits, and shoulder-pads, and colorful occult-meaning ties. Sometimes they'll read off a script, written by an AI and approved by a Skeksis boy, to keep you talking and confused and angry.

That is their sole purpose. They take your energy and torment you when you're in the shower or in bed, with their dumb meaningless plotlines that never go anywhere. Distracting and misleading the people. No "news story" they show you publicly isn't planned years and sometimes decades in advance. Or otherwise is just some spur-of-the-moment oneoff joke by some rabbi. That's all there is to it.

If it's on "the news" you can believe without a doubt that it's a planned hoax. There are no exceptions. If it actually happens, it doesn't go on the news. Real events that genuinely happen aren't spread to the public, because real events have too many unknowns. A real event could wake people up, so real events are smothered. Likewise real "leaders" of any kind are hunted down, gangstalked, electronically tortured, and driven to low-energy lifestyles, effectively "removing them from play".

I suppose I can't blame people who suffer the false belief that politics and democracy are real. After all the Skeksis are constantly poisoning the water supply. But it's still an evil thing, and it dominates so many minds, and there's really nothing more to it than just a dumb show.

As an observer from outside of America I'm genuinely quite astounded at how quickly things seem to be ramping up. I don't know why but I believed they would have a cold period where they'd just act like everything is normal before going full with their ideas.

But nope. Straight in to removing the constitution from the website; talking about raiding the homes of immigrant families; removal of the reproductive rights page; saying there are only 2 genders and now it seems they have the intention to make it so women can only get birth control with the permission of their husbands, fathers or a priest.

Thereby completely destroying years of good work for, not only reproductive rights, but women's health care as a whole.

This is only day 2 of the Presidency.

We are in for a long, painful, ride.

#writings

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sad-girl-hours23 · 2 days ago

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This Is Not a Temporary Love

For @bucktommyfluffebruary Day 1: Non-sexual Intimacy

Tommy trails calloused fingertips across Evan’s skin, followed by feather light kisses, mapping the landmarks of ink and scar tissue.

Evan runs a hand through Tommy’s curls. “What are you doing?”

“Exploring,” Tommy says between kisses. “Admiring the artwork. Committing you to memory.”

Evan hums and his eyes flutter shut as Tommy ends his journey at Evan’s birthmark, peppering kisses along his brow.

∗∗∗

A few nights later, Evan turns the tables of affection on him. Under Evan’s steady gaze, Tommy feels as if he’s been put under a microscope. His skin heats from Evan’s careful touches and the thought of being on display.

“What are you doing?”

Evan smirks, a playful shine reflected in his eyes. “Admiring the artwork.”

“What artwork?”

Evan smiles as he traces invisible lines across Tommy’s skin. He takes Tommy’s words for the joke they are, not the self-deprecating dig they might have once been.

“Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”

“Thought about it, yeah.”

“But…you haven’t wanted anything enough to make it permanent?”

Tommy hesitates. “Are we still talking about tattoos?”

Evan laughs. “I promise it’s not a leading question.”

Tommy looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t like needles.” When he looks at Evan, there’s a soft smile on his face.

“Hey, thank you for sharing that with me.”

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Evan—still tracing the contours of Tommy’s body—asks, “what would you get if you could?”

∗∗∗

A week later, Tommy shows up at Evan’s loft with takeout for their date night in.

He also gives Evan several packs of tattoo markers and blanket permission to use his skin as his personal canvas.

Evan’s face lights up like Tommy has given him the directions to the Lost City of Atlantis.

Between bites of Lo mein, Evan draws a fortune cookie on Tommy’s shoulder.

“What’s my fortune?”

Evan looks into his eyes and says, “you have a love that will last a lifetime.”

Tommy admires the way the words fall so effortlessly from Evan’s lips. It’s not casual or flippant, but confident and sure—like he’s practiced the thought so many times, mouthing the words until his tongue memorized the shape of them.

Tommy kisses Evan, pouring all the words he doesn’t know how to express into Evan’s open, eager mouth. When they part, Tommy swipes his thumb over the sweet and sour sauce lingering on Evan’s lips.

“Lucky me.”

∗∗∗

After that night, Evan takes every opportunity to mark Tommy’s skin.

And it’s never mindless scribbling. It’s always deliberate, if not reverent, the way Evan moves the markers over his skin. It makes Tommy feel appreciated in a way he hadn’t expected.

When they’re watching movies together on the couch, Tommy’s feet in Evan’s lap, Evan keeps himself busy drawing comic book characters on his legs and thighs.

At the bar, surrounded by their friends and family, who watch with various expressions of confusion and amusement as Evan adds a rainbow of colors to Tommy’s skin. Maddie fondly compares it to giving Jee crayons at a restaurant to keep her entertained. Evan blushes and Tommy laughs, even if the observation misses the mark. Tommy actually likes having a language that only they understand and he thinks Evan feels the same.

In the kitchen, while waiting for dinner to be done, Evan sits him down at the island and asks him about his day, hanging onto every word Tommy says as he inks a new animal onto a different part of Tommy’s arm. First, it’s a penguin. Then a swan, a puffin, a crow.

Evan asks him one night, “do you know what they have in common?”

Tommy looks at the black bird on his bicep. “They all have wings?”

Evan gives him a look that says Tommy’s being deliberately obtuse. He’s listened to enough of Evan’s animal facts to know they’re all animals that mate for life.

Evan draws a wolf on Tommy’s forearm next, a challenging look in his eyes.

In between grueling shifts and the exhausting work of moving in together, Evan continues his artwork.

∗∗∗

Evan holds Tommy’s hand, even though he knows it can’t be comfortable given how cold and clammy it is.

“You don’t have to do this,” Evan says. “We can buy tattoo markers. I can draw on you again if you want.”

Tommy winces at the sound of the tattoo machine coming from the back room of the shop, but he’s determined to see it through. “No, I want this. When I have to take off my wedding ring for work, it always feels like I’m missing a part of me.”

Evan ducks his head and blushes. “If you’re sure.”

Tommy squeezes his hand. “I’m sure.”

Also on AO3

My Fluffebruary works collected here

#bucktommy fluffebruary #bucktommy fic #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #sad-girl-hours23 does fluffebruary

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absolutefilthimsosorry · 3 days ago

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The waist touch photo got to me last night and I just need to be sappy for a moment.

The thing about the thEY toUcHed!1!111!!! thing for me is that it’s like queer representation in tv and film. It shouldn’t be a big deal to see queer characters portrayed on screen but it still is, it gets to me every. single. time, because I lived through a time when I could count the queer representation I’d seen on screen on one hand. Likewise it shouldn’t be a big deal to see Dan and Phil touch but it is because I lived through a time when they were so afraid of being outed that they avoided touching each other to a degree that was abnormal for even a purely platonic relationship.

In a time where we have mainstream shows like heartstopper, having queer representation in bridgerton shouldn’t affect me but it did. In a time when dnp are making explicit gay sex jokes, them touching shouldn’t affect me but it did.

So sure, it shouldn’t be a big deal but the context makes it a symbol of progress, a sign of something in the world getting better for queer people, an indicator of wider acceptance. And that is something worth getting excited about. Something to celebrate. A light in the darkness. So dnp can tease us about it all they like, seeing them relaxed and feeling safe enough to touch in these casual ways is still going to give me a tiny burst of joy every damn time. In the same way getting queer rep in mainstream shows still makes me kick my feet and grin like an idiot.

And I suspect deep down they understand this because they, like me, grew up queer in a time when it was less accepted and much less talked about. I’m sorry that their relationship has become so tied to the defiance of societal heteronormativity, that must be so weird for them, but it has and that means that their current actions mean so much more than they would in a vacuum.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #phan #dan and phil #dnp

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anyalovesu · 3 days ago

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𝓷ever recover

idol!Heeseung x lsf member!reader

— get over the tv show and live life like you used to. that’s what you promised yourself when your members chose you to participate in the tv show your group was selected to star in. it was never your intention to fall for heeseung in real life, but you’re here anyway.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

genre : fluff/angst w comfort (?)

pairings : heeseung x fem!reader

wc : 14.2k+ words

cw :

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ idol!au ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ reader has eating issues (tw!!) ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ yunjin and yeonjun being in a rs mentioned ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ reader is a member of le sserafim, '03 liner ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ (ft. beomgyu from txt, lsf members, and en- members ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ heavily inspired by joy and sungjae from when they were in we got married ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ slight smut (?) very suggestive ending ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ mentions of sasaengs, obsessive fans, death threats ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ lmk if i missed something hehe ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ not proofread (yet hehe)

playlist : i'll never recover જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“It’s going to be an amazing opportunity for you to actually give people some perspective!” Chaewon pleads with you in the common room while you sit there with the rest of the girls, just arriving from your dinner with your managers where you found out that Le Sserafim was offered to participate in a tv show.

Arguably, this would definitely make or break your group's long standing record of hate trains. You’ve gotten used to it at this point. This would assuredly bring some of those back in a bigger surge most probably, but the rest of them were arguing that it would be a good opportunity to show them a side of you that they have not before—especially since you were always branded as the man-repellant of the group ever since your debut with your playful show of disinterest in dating.

“And if the perspective doesn’t turn out to be what you think it is?” You sighed, fiddling with the strings of your hoodie. You wished you could banter about this the way you normally do, but by the way you were hyper aware of the camera clipped on your table, you knew it would probably not be the best idea to do right now.

“Then you did it for the plot!” Yunjin playfully jokes, making you snort quietly. “If it doesn’t turn out well, then we can just laugh at it and say that you did it for the plot!”

You’ve always done that. You were never one to have inhibitions to do whatever you pleased, which also meant you were a big pain in the ass for your managers and PR associates. This was a huge step in the box on what you usually do, but you’re not going to argue that the seemingly impulsivity of it all seemed very on-brand for your fearless and playful persona.

“It would’ve been you most probably if you stayed in the US with your parents. I’m pretty sure those American boys would’ve been head over heels for you!” Yunjin egged on even more.

“When am I going to find out who it is?” you asked your manager who was sitting on one end of the coffee table in the common room.

“Once you’re in the show, they’re going to surprise you on who it is?”

“Is he going to be in a different company or the same?” You bombarded your manager with questions which ultimately made your group laugh with how persistent you are with milking your manager for answers. Most of you knew that he probably already knows who it is by the way he tried to avoid your gaze while actively deflecting your questions.

“You have to wait!” he says finally. “I just want to know if you are really sure about this. You know we can always decline the offer.”

“Crazy shit like this doesn't come everyday,” you laughed. You knew it was unreasonable and the arguments you have to defend your claim on why you should actually do the show would probably not stand well in court but you are you. You’re always going to say yes to the most outrageous shit that offers itself to you. You were fearless after all.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You paced around to try and calm your nerves when the production staff from the tv show began to set up in your practice room where you and your members would meet your virtual “husband” for the first time through a mystery zoom call. You were oriented that they would have you message each other first and try to get as much information from each other before finally going to the meet up place tomorrow so that you could formally meet. As the call time drew closer and closer, you couldn’t help but feel your feet turn cold, finding yourself in deeper waters than you would usually dare to go to. Besides, who even has an absolutely insanity of a mind to agree with this outrageous show? You were starting to delude yourself that this was a prank and that your manager wasn’t actually going to have you marry for the next 30 days. You have a busy schedule! You are already going insane as it is, is he really going to let you do this?

“Honey, come back here,” Yunjin laughed as she pulled you to plop on the couch next to her and the girls. “You know I can’t tell if you're anxious or you're excited?”

“I don’t know either,” you chuckle at her. It was true. The thrill of being out of the dorms and living with a complete stranger for an entire month was exciting. In a game of most likely to, the girls would’ve pointed at you the same way they did when the offer was discussed with your group in that dinner. This really was something you would most likely do compared to the other girls but whoever you were going to be paired with will determine how this is going to go. You have a massive ten-wheeler truck of hate waiting to crush you and leave you for dead without an active career in entertainment. You were worried this was not the amazing opportunity they made you think it was.

“Okay, we’re starting in 2,” the producer smiled at you girls as he held up a hand to get your attention.

You couldn’t help but stare at your phone on the table showing your lock screen, watching the numbers turn from the displayed time before the director finally calls everyone’s attention by handing your leader white box adorned with a bright red ribbon around it, holding it securely.

“Oh!” Chaewon giggles excitedly, “I can't believe my baby Y/N is going to be the first to get married! My baby!”

You were only 3 years younger than Chaewon and a few months younger than Kazuha, but you were always referred to as Chaewon’s baby because of the doting nature that the leader had for you and your group’s youngest member, Eunchae.

Chaewon happily helps herself in opening the gift box, finding an envelope and a phone in the box.

“Oh, you have a mission card! And a phone!” Sakura chimes.

“Is it your invitation? Am I invited to your wedding? What is the phone for?” Eunchae bombards you with questions, excitement practically bursting through her seams.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married before your Unnies!” Yunjin adds.

Chaewon opens the envelope to find a mission card which read in wedding-esque lettering,

“To Y/N, your virtual marriage starts tomorrow but first you must get to know your virtual husband through a special couple app that we have made especially for you.”

“Do you think your husband will be younger or older?” Yunjin asked.

“I hope he is older or the same age,” you replied politely. “I don’t want him to be younger. It would feel wrong. My grandpa is older than my grandma, and my dad is also oppa to my mom. I also have a little brother who is only younger than me by exactly a year. That would feel really weird.”

“I think older would also be fitting for you,” Sakura replied. “ I think you need someone who will take care of you and you tend to be a little stubborn towards your peers that are your age.”

“She literally does not eat unless it’s the unnies that tell her to eat,” Kazuha complained. “She would literally just watch me eat!”

“I am taught to not eat before my elders do!” you argued, remembering that because you were raised in a traditional household before you moved in with your grandparents, who also upheld necessary traditional values, in Uiwang-si when you told your parents you wanted to be a musician in Korea, you were very connected to what you were taught to be disrespectful and what not.

“Girl, you are just a picky eater and are always looking for an excuse to skip meals,” Yunjin chuckled. “I hope your husband makes you eat different things.”

“I’m going to eat ramyeon.” you joked.

“I hope my brother-in-law does not make you eat ramyeon,” Eunchae laughed. “You need to eat healthy, too much ramyeon cannot be good for you.”

“Brother-in-law?!” Chaewon sounded appalled upon hearing Eunchae call the mystery man as such already.

“They are virtually married, are they not?” Sakura laughed at Chaewon, poking fun at the excessive reaction from the leader. “I agree that we should call him brother-in-law from now on.”

“Tomorrow! The virtual marriage starts tomorrow!”

After the yap session, which you were very sure was going to be in fast forward once the episode airs, you finally decided to open the app to find your virtual husband already sent you a message.

“He sent me a message already!” You laughed dryly, trying not to make you seem too excited before you deadpanned, “oh I already feel like the prettiest person in the world.”

Hello. Do you play video games?

“Oh! He asked if she plays video games!” Kazuha happily jumps as soon as she sees the message.

“Oh no!” Chaewon jokingly whines. “They are going to play video games all day!”

Yes. I play Valorant.

“I have a feeling that they will bond very well!” Yunjin announces. “The vibes are vibing right now and they have a total of 2 messages to each other!”

The next few messages were responded to very quickly, both parties seemingly anticipating the response of the other. You could help but start to wonder who your virtual husband was or was this some elaborate prank to get you to break and show a new character that the media hasn’t seem to unlock yet. It was a crazy idea after all.

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“Hi guys,” you chuckled towards your little camera mounted on a small tripod, even though cameramen surrounded the HYBE Cafe to capture the scene. “Good afternoon!” You made sure to bow and greet everyone from the production staff and the cafe staff before making your way to the seat that you were oriented to sit in.

“I was told that I had to prepare a gift,” you started after propping your mini camera on the table. “So, my gift is in here…” you made sure to let them see the little brown box that you and Kazuha decorated in your dorm last night after you had packed your things to move for a month with the mystery virtual husband that you will meet today.

You were told that while the two of you will be living together, given that company would not fully allow you sleeping next to someone remotely close to tempting you to ruin your own career, you were assured that after filming you are allowed to sleep in the other room in the apartment they were going to make you stay in for the next 4 weeks.

“I’m just going to spoil it,” you yap while waiting to be signalled that your on-screen partner is there already. “It’s a gaming keyboard since he mentioned that he plays video games. I thought maybe I should get him an xbox controller but I’m not sure if he plays games that use that. So a keyboard would be more generic to give. I promise to give better gifts to my virtual husband when I get to know him better.”

As if on cue, right after you talked to your little camera about your gift, you were asked to put on a blindfold because your virtual partner has arrived and they want you to have a first look at each other at the same time.

“You may now take off your blindfold,” the producer instructed before you tugged on the lace of the blindfold behind your head.

Your eyes had to take a good few seconds before it could adjust and recognize the person sitting across you.

“Oh shit.”

You immediately slapped a hand over your mouth in surprise that you actually said it out loud. You only meant to keep it in your thoughts, but it’s Lee Heeseung from Enhypen.

His fans are going to hunt you down, you were so sure of it but the assuring look on his face as surprise wore off of it as he got used to looking at you made you seem more comfortable.

You’ve interacted with him a couple of times before. Maybe made a tik tok with him once or twice. The ship was very unlikely, you weren’t very sure why your managers agreed to this, whereas if they had placed Kazuha or Yunjin in your place, considering the amount of manips he has with your other members, they would’ve gone more viral.

“Hello,” he bowed to you politely, even getting up in his seat again to do a full 90 degree bow. You found yourself mirroring his actions almost immediately.

“Lee Heeseung,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out.

“L/N Y/N,” you replied in the same tone before accepting his hand to shake.

“Did you have a hunch on who your virtual partner would be?”

You both looked at each other, trying to recall from the conversation last week before shaking your head. There were a couple of other idols that played video games—it could've been your best friend, Beomgyu for all you cared.

Oh shit. Beomgyu. He is going to crash out when he finds out you're married to his other bestie for the next month and you haven't even told him you're doing this.

“How are you feeling then? Now that you already know who your partner is for the next few weeks?” The production staff was giddy. They were through the roof with squeals from behind the camera every now and then.

“Choi Beomgyu is going to kill me for virtually marrying his other bestie,” you replied frankly, holding back your laughter as you looked at the director. “Ya! He's going to lecture me for hours about marrying him!”

“I think he will kill me first—”

“We made sure Beomgyu will not burst through the door,” your director announces.

“Unless he is tied up in the basement for the next 30 days, we are never sure if he's not going to burst into our apartment instead,” Heeseung jokes, leaning back against his chair.

You take a good look at him. If you were to be honest, you've never looked at him for this long. By some fucked up standard, you have trained yourself not to look at people for too long, at least not long enough for unsuspected cameras to capture. You've never had a dating rumor since debut which was honestly a big deal for you—and now this. But that's besides the point.

Heeseung reeked of charisma. He had this good aura around him that made you feel comfortable. He was undeniably handsome and lean. God. He seemed like his parents carefully crafted him with handpicked good genes from their body and took their absolute time of their lives creating him with love—he definitely did not looked like he was made from a fuck and go situation. He was a masterpiece himself—god what are you even thinking?

“Y/N, Heeseung asked for your coffee order,” your manager repeated, snapping you back to reality.

Heeseung chuckled at your previous zoned-out state. He daresay you looked adorable with your pupil blown out and seemingly in deep thought to not recognize that you were being instructed to do something.

“Oh it’s just a Spanish Latte, thank you so much,” you replied to him. He grinned at you as he nodded before you hid your face in embarrassment.

The crimson in your face began spreading to your ears which made the production team squeal in delight at your sudden shyness. Even your manager and Heeseung’s manager who sat closely to the director could not hide the stupid grin on their faces as the cameramen tried to capture the obvious blush on your face.

“This should be illegal, why does he smile like that?” you playfully talked to your small camera on the table. “He looks like he knows everything about me but not in a creepy way!”

“Really?”

Oh sweet babybel cheese. He heard that.

“No! It was a joke!” You panicked, hiding your face with your hands as you kept your head low on the table to avoid looking at him again.

It hasn’t been an hour and you’ve already embarrassed yourself for about more times than your hands could count. Everything Sakura just taught you about flirting before you came here was suddenly out the window. You were a huge bag of disappointment and embarrassment right now and you don’t even know how you managed to do that much in such a short span of time.

“I’m just really flustered, I’m sorry,” you apologized before coming up with another yap topic, “I have been training since I was 14 and was homeschooled before that. My social skills had to be developed in training.”

“My manager only told me, my partner was from Uiwang-si,” he told you. “My manager hasn’t told me anything after that.”

“He's right! I am from Uiwang-si! My grandparents live there!” You replied happily. “I have lived there since I was 14.”

“I was born there!”

“We should visit there before our marriage ends! My grandpa is going to have a heart attack if he finds that I came there with a husband!” You laughed. “I brought my friends there one time, and then Beomgyu was there! He told me after that if Beomgyu hadn't been the way he is, he would've assumed he was my boyfriend and his blood pressure would have shot up.”

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“How would you describe your childhood?” you asked, reading the cue cards they had given you as your “get to know each other activity”.

“Hard,” he jokingly laughed. “Looking back at it now, half of my childhood was training and worrying if I'll ever debut.”

He made it sound light and funny but it was a reality for many people, especially in the kpop industry. Once upon a time, you also thought about whether you should've just continued pursuing your ballet career in the US because your dream of the kpop scene did not seem to go anywhere. You were lucky your grandmother insisted that you continue your ballet lessons on top of training with Source back then so that you'd always had that safety net if ever you ended up not pursuing your kpop career.

“You debuted though,” you reminded him, his face softening at your tone and your statement. “Arguably one of the best performers of our generation also. So I guess, the hard work paid off, huh?”

Heeseung was stunned. He's always reminded of how far he's come by many of his peers but somehow, hearing it from someone who trained for a year longer than he did, validated something in him. He knew you would be able to understand what it felt like to hold your career so dearly after working day in and day out for it.

“It did. Yours too.”

Heeseung knew about you. He would be lying if he said he didn't have a tiny crush on you. You were highly regarded as Source's golden child. You were their secret weapon trainee and he's always known that whenever it may be, when you debut, you were going to make it big—international, even. And now you are sitting in front of him, after you did make it international with your Coachella stint, which you and your members did well in his opinion despite the criticisms. Maybe you could give him a couple of tips on what he can do better for their turn next year..

“I remember seeing you in the Hybe building,” you smiled at him. “Source was just acquired by Hybe and I was relatively a new recruit. I think you and some of your other members were preparing to go to I-land back then. I had a short conversation with Jay because he heard that there was another American in the building.”

You were a spectacle to Heeseung from the get go. He knew Jay spoke to you but he couldn’t do the same after he got intimidated by the rapid English words that made your conversation with him seem so enjoyable for the both of you. He didn’t want to insert himself into a situation he didn’t know how to sustain, so he stayed back.

“That’s why he knows you!” he laughs. “You did very well in your training too. We were really happy when we heard the news that you were going to debut!”

“He was really a good brother figure to me,” you explained. “Him and Yunjin always made me feel close to home.”

“I am looking forward to making you feel at home too then,” he replied, making you cackle at his pick-up line.

“To be fair, Uiwang-si is my home too, so I am looking forward to that!”

“You haven’t answered the question yet, though,” he reminds you, pointing at your cue card, reminding you once again that you have lost yourself in a stream of thought.

You look at your cue card to check the question once again as you laughed at yourself, trying very hard to focus on what you were actually doing.

You thought of your childhood but it seemed that it wasn’t any different than his. You were dancing the moment you were able to balance yourself on your own. You’ve been doing ballet since you were three, did full time training as soon as you were old enough to be in a pre-professional program before you were recruited by Source Music in a ballet recital when you were 14. That somehow awakened a dream in you that you didn’t know you had. You wanted to resist it at first. Ballet has been your whole life—you are leaving an entire career of continuous conditioning, training and dance competitions for a chance to be in the spotlight in your home country. It seemed far-fetched to leave an entire life behind for what could be but it was what your heart desired and being the ever so impulse-driven person that you are—it brought you here.

“Ballet has been my entire childhood. I was on my toes for half of it, and crying for the half because I feel like I will never be good enough or because something hurts,” you explained to him while holding back a laugh. “I think I will still be doing that if I didn't debut but you know, I don't think I'll be as happy.”

Heeseung could watch you talk all day. It seems all too surreal to even fathom that he will be virtually married to the girl he had a tiny crush on before he went to I-Land. You were still a sight to see, even years after the last time he was in close proximity.

The day eventually ended and you were in the living room of your home for the next month. All the cameras were either shut off or taken home by the production staff at last so you were able to sit comfortably on the living room couch watching your favorite show on the TV.

“I'm making ramyeon,” Heeseung calls from the kitchen connecting to the living room. “Do you want some?”

“Yes, oppa!” you replied to him, raising a thumbs up just in case he didn't hear you properly.

You have decided to drop the honorifics for the camera and just let me gradually lose it as time goes after the cameras are out during one of your a while ago.

It didn't feel like you were going to have a hard time working and living with Heeseung. He was a gentleman after all and has a nurturing nature in him. You know Chaewon wishes he's not going to feed you ramyeon right now just like they had predicted but it could be worse. You and Heeseung didn't have any interactions personally other than for the tiktoks prior to today so it's a huge step already to have him cook for you.

“We should go buy groceries tomorrow with unnies,” you tell him quietly as you both enjoyed your own bowl of ramyeon and some spam. “They will not be very happy if we eat this for the rest of the month.”

He did not object to it, nodded before asking, “Did you really want to do this?”

You look at him, curious as to why he would ask that suddenly. Was he expecting someone else? Did he not want you to be here?

You shook your head, trying to deflect, even though deep down inside of you, you wanted to do this just to see how it would turn out.

“You?”

“Just wanted to know how it would turn out,” he snorted. “Jake didn't want to do it. He would be a mess the entire show too. My guy is too nervous and too hormonal for his own good.”

“Could've turned it down?”

“I barely had a girlfriend when I was in highschool and right now, our fans would quite literally destroy anyone remotely close to seemingly dating me.” He chuckled. “I don't think I'll ever be with someone anyway in my 20’s. So I just went for it.”

The utter ingenuity of his explanation somehow got you because you did feel the same. Yunjin was blasted when she got the dating rumor with Yeonjun. The world seemed to close on her when it happened because it seemed like everyone was trying to end our career because of it. It never stopped though, people trying to end your group. You just started to learn not to give a damn what they have to tell you.

“What about you?”

“I don't really care what happens,” you reply. “I don't even know how I feel about it right now. But I'm glad it's you.”

“I'm glad it's you too,” he chuckled before going back to just sitting there in comfortable silence while you watched Grey's Anatomy on the TV.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“You look unwell,” Heeseung points out, concern laced in his voice as he watches you come out of your room to get ready for the day. “Can you still go grocery shopping today? I don’t mind going by myself if you’re not feeling well.”

You shrugged. You hated flaking out of plans, besides when you survived practice with a mild fever before, grocery shopping isn’t something you were afraid of doing while a little hot. You were sure that you were okay.

“We can do it tomorrow. You really look like you’re going to faint,” he explained before rising up from his seat from the dining table to help you walk to the other end of the table from where he sat. “It’s totally okay, Y/N.”

“Oppa, I’m okay.”

“Jay can do the grocery for us!” he announced.

“The producers will kill us,” you forced out a laugh. “I’m okay, Heeseung. I’ll just take an Aspirin and I’ll be fine for the rest of the day.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, opening the fridge to take the microwavable bibimbap he got this morning. “Do you want this, or cereal?”

“You got us breakfast?” You looked surprised that he did. You always woke up with food on the table because Sakura hated not seeing you and Kazuha have breakfast. So she always made you two foods before you could even wake up.

“I wanted to make something better than anything that goes in the microwave but this would do,” he replied, shyly scratching the back of his head as he avoided your gaze.

He woke up earlier than he usually would that morning to take a walk outside of the apartment building to check for food stalls or convenience stores he can get you breakfast from. He contemplated if he was going to get bibimbap or something that he thought was more your thing as an American. So he ended up buying a ready-made bibimbap that he could easily microwave at home and a box of cereal and milk. He really was hoping for a more thought of breakfast for the both of them since it was their first time eating breakfast together but upon thinking of it last night, which honestly was the first time he was up that late that wasn’t because of practice or League, he realized that he’s not confident about cooking anything besides spam and ramyeon.

And the thing was Heeseung wanted to impress you. Everyone knew you were a lazy eater, and he wanted to make sure that with him, despite all that, you were being fed very well. So, giving you options was the most doable effort he has for now. He took a mental note on his way home that he will make sure to message Jay or one of your members later this dinner to teach him how to cook anything you might want to eat tonight.

“That bibimbap looks nice actually,” you replied. Heeseung nodded before placing the food container in the microwave to heat it up for you.

“Are you really sure you can film today?”

“I have a mild fever, oppa,” you laughed at him. “I’m not going to die.”

“I don’t want to be accused of neglecting my wife, excuse me!” he playfully argued. “If you really want to go, the production team will be here in about 2 hours, so we better start getting ready after this. Take your time though, two hours is still a long time.”

You were fortunate enough to be with people who always took care of you. That being said, you never had to look for anywhere to fulfill the desire to be loved, because you were loved in every home you went to. Dating never interested you before, to be frank. Besides the fact that your manager would more or less kill you if you ended up in a dating scandal, you were too busy to meet anyone. You didn't know many people outside of Le Sserafim. You barely had any friends predebut because you were homeschooled and your ballet class friends weren't exactly friendly with you after they found out that you were training to be a kpop idol and were not too focused on the same goal as them.

It made your heart race that someone who barely knew you managed to show you kindness. The things that years of struggling to make genuine connections taught you somehow vanished into thin air as Heeseung gently places the back of his hand against your forehead to check if you were still hot before nodding when he felt that you didn’t feel very warm anymore.

“Just tell me if you don’t feel well along the way… yeah?” His bending down to be at eye-level with you was the cherry on top of it all.

Who is this man and why does he know how to make your knees feel weak?

“Okay,” you replied shortly, smiling at him, your eyes crinkling on the sides which was a feature Heeseung was sure he’s never seen before and he’s only noticed now that his face is so close to yours.

You were… beautiful.

He knew that all along, long before you were this close to him. But it was like seeing what beautiful is in 4K—like all of a sudden being this close to you gave him a whole new definition of beautiful, because even the texture of your face makes him wonder how long it took for God to craft you… it must’ve taken them a lot of time.

And you would’ve fully fallen for it, if you just kept your eyes on him—if the corner of your eye didn’t catch the cameraman hauling this huge filming equipment to capture the moment because now you have this pit in your stomach as if your heart has sunken into it.

It’s for the show. You have to remind yourself as Heeseung offers his hand for you to hold as you make your way out of the apartment that you shared.

“My grandma used to always bring me with her to the market,” you smiled at him. “I went home to them on the weekends. It sort of just became a normal thing for us to go to the market really early every Saturday morning.”

“Are you closer to your grandparents or your actual parents?”

“Well, my grandparents took care of me from the moment I landed here. So maybe now, I’m closer to them. I still have a very good relationship with my parents and my little brother. With my little brother, it’s a little better now than before, because we always used to fight but whenever I can take breaks and I could go home to New York, we bond a little better now,” You explained to him as you browsed through the meat section of the supermarket. “I suppose you and your brother are close too? I saw that clip from I-Land.”

“We are close,” he chuckled. “Every now and then we meet up to play basketball when we’re both free since he is in University.”

“I wish me and my brother still lived in the same country,” you laughed. “While I do treat Beomgyu like my brother, that idiot would pick fights with me and our entire day out would’ve been just us bantering about random things that don’t matter.”

The two of you kept on going around the supermarket trying to find novel things to make your apartment a little more interesting. So, by the end of it all, you had funky shaped coffee cups, mismatched plates and a couple other cutlery that you both picked for each other.

It really did seem that you and Heeseung were building a home for each other as you talked about each other’s upbringing over what color of plate the other should get. And while he thought he’d never be the type to enjoy those kinds of things, he figured that maybe hearing about the tiniest and the most mundane things about someone could be interesting if it was you that’s talking. He found out that you and Yunjin were family friends long before you were kpop trainees and actually flew to Korea together and how devastated you were when Yunjin went home to New York after PD48 and how somehow, you became HYBE’s way of convincing Yunjin to come back and join the girl group even though it did not take her a lot to say yes. And even in the things he would usually not enjoy getting done, like picking out meat for the upcoming days as he would rather just order take out—he seemed to enjoy it now that he’s with you.

And you didn’t feel any different. You don't have to feel anxious whenever you have to talk to a vendor as Heeseung would beat you to it every time. Oh and you had to pretend you didn’t notice how hard he blushed when an old lady told you that your boyfriend was a dream to have and how you playfully corrected that he is your husband. You enjoyed seeing Heeseung flustered.

“Today was a lot, right?” Heeseung laughed, throwing himself on the sofa, already showered and dressed in his pajamas. Which consisted of his grey sweatpants and a Hybe shirt that you were sure everyone from the company had.

“I hope I didn’t talk your ears out,” you replied at him, raising your head from your phone to look at him.

“I like listening to you talk,” he smiled.

And you couldn’t help it. Before you could even cover your face, you were already blushing and Heeseung is basking in his glory once again that he’s finally got his revenge from you flustering him a while ago in front of the production staff and the old lady.

“It is actually refreshing to hear someone else that isn’t one of my members,” he laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. I love those idiots, but I am enjoying hearing you talk. It’s like I have this personal podcast playing live all the time.”

Before you knew it, you were asleep on Heeseung’s shoulder. You were out all day after all running errands like a married couple should, it must’ve tired you. But in Heeseung’s opinion, you did not look tired at all.

Heeseung couldn’t help but feel his heart race as he watched your sleeping figure. It was too early to fall in love with you, but it did feel like that. You were so easy to love and he was all in for it like he has been doing it for a long time already. The way you would innocently explain things to him around the marketplace that he would ask you about somehow made him feel at ease that you weren’t going to judge him for not being as knowledgeable in life as you were. It was as if you were okay with helping him learn the things he should’ve known a long time ago. You were a breath of fresh air and it made him feel like he was free from the bounds of being perfect for the next few weeks while he’s with you.

He carefully lifted your head from your shoulder before picking you up and bringing you to your room. You are a heavy sleeper, he takes note in his mind as he pulls the covers over your resting body.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“Don’t forget to eat lunch, okay?” Heeseung reminds you as he drops you off of your practice room with your members.

“Hi oppa!” Eunchae happily skips towards you to give you a hug as she smiles at your husband brightly. “How is unnie adjusting at home with you! Is she eating well? I hope you’re not staying up too late playing video games!”

Heeseung could tell that you were so well taken care of by your members. You were their second youngest after all. He was so glad that so far, Eunchae’s inquiries were all being met. He’s managed to make at least a decent breakfast for the both of you this morning with the help of Jay from facetime. Was Jay excited about waking up at 5 in the morning to teach his brother how to cook? No. But did he do it anyway for the sake of giving his darling virtual sister-in-law the breakfast that she deserves? Oh yes.

“Of course, I am feeding Y/N! Right, jagiya?”

Eunchae screamed in excitement as soon as the nickname slipped out of Heeseung. She was ecstatic, running over to the other girls to tell them what she just heard. The other girls screamed as well. The both of you couldn’t help but laugh at their reactions.

“Jagiya…” you trailed. “That’s new.”

“I’m sorry, was it too much?” Heeseung peed, immediately going into panic mode, thinking that you weren’t comfortable with it. “It just slipped, I promise!”

“It’s cute,” you answered, chuckling at his panicked state before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek as you let him go. “Go now. Your members must be looking for you. You’d be late.”

You hurriedly closed the door before you ran towards your girls, leaving Heeseung a blushing mess at what you just did.

“Did you just kiss that poor boy?” Yunjin screamed, grasping your arm as she made you look at her.

“He is my husband, unnie!” You explained, making it sound as it was a matter of fact that she should have already known. “What did you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe show some decency because there is a kid in the room?!” Yunjin dramatically retorted as she pointed at Eunchae who was still buzzing in exhilaration from witnessing that.

“Is he treating you alright, at least?” Sakura asked softly as she wrapped her arms around your waist. “Are you eating dinner every night? Eating is always your problem, Y/N. He should be feeding you alright.”

“He is feeding me alright,” you sighed. “I heard him talking to Jay this morning. He asked Jay how to make a proper breakfast. Is that enough evidence that I am eating alright?”

“You're smiling a little differently,” Chaewon teased. “The show got you good, no?”

“What the hell do you mean I’m smiling differently?” you voiced, brows furrowing as you turned to Chaewon, whose face expression you couldn’t quite figure out if it was happy or scared. She was smiling but her eyes told you something else.

“Let’s just say you do end up falling in love with him,” your leader mumbled. “You do know the managers are never going to let you do it, right?”

She said it so calmly and nicely that you almost forgot how harsh that truth was. The worst part was realizing she was right. The few days that you have spent living with Heeseung really had you smiling differently and you’ve only realized now that she pointed it out. You were starting to like him. But for what? You were never going to be with him in real life after the show. You don’t even know if he likes you that way outside of the show.

You looked around for anyone familiar from the production staff of the show to see if anyone was filming it. Relief washed over you as soon as you confirmed that they stuck with their terms and did not film your activities when you are separated.

“Y/N,” Sakura cooed as soon as she realized how Chaewon’s words affected you. “It’s okay! You’re going to be okay! I mean it’s a normal thing to fall for people like Heeseung! He is so kind and generous to you!”

“Right! I would fall in love too if someone made that much of an effort to feed me!” Kazuha added.

“I don’t want you to see falling in love with Heeseung as a bad thing,” Chaewon sighed, moving closer to you as she reached for your hand. “We’re not even sure how long we’re going to do this for and if we’ll ever have the chance to fall in love with anyone with the schedule that we have!” She squeezed your hand before lifting your chin up to make you look at her. “I’m just saying that it’s going to be hard but I cannot blame you for feeling that way. You’re still a human person, Y/N and falling in love with someone who is kind to you is a human experience. That is okay to have.”

While she did have a point, you did realize how sad and unfortunate it was to be in a situation like that.

“You still have 2 and a half weeks to enjoy his company,” she reminded. “After that we’ll ask you how you feel about it and then decide our course of action from then on.”

“What's important is, whatever your decision is,” Yunjin smirked. “Whether or not it’s going to get us in trouble, we are going to support you! Even if it meant all of us would have to sign an NDA again to keep your future relationship with Heeseung a secret.”

2 weeks and 2 more days. After this, you can just live your life like you never knew him and maybe then your accumulating feelings for him would fade.

“What do you want for dinner?” Heeseung asked, standing by the door frame of your room, watching you stare at your laptop that you brought with you since your normal gaming set-up was too much of a hassle to transfer just to bring back after a month.

The production team had already left a good half an hour ago after the both of you were briefed about tomorrow’s agenda which was hanging out with his members for half the day and with yours for the remaining half. You felt lethargic after all the practice you had to do for your upcoming promotions as your EP was waiting to be released by the approaching month, around the same time this show will go on air. On top of that, your conversation with Chaewon still clung to you, and you were so desperately trying to get your head out of it by playing Valorant. But your trusty game to replace your worries with anger did not seem to work at all for you tonight. Heeseung standing by your door frame was not helping either.

“I don’t really feel like eating dinner tonight, Hee. I’m fine tonight,” you replied at him politely, glancing back at him to acknowledge his presence.

Heeseung clicked his tongue before walking over to see your game. He sat on your bed watching you play.

He’s never really entered your room before. You’ve entered his room a lot of times before when you watched him play League and when he taught you how to play his favorite game. Nothing malicious ever happened when you were in there so you weren’t expecting anything here either.

“Chaewon explicitly told me before the show started to never let you sleep without eating dinner,” he stated as soon as you died for the round. “So, I’m sticking with that. What do you want for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry,” you repeat, a sigh following as you avoided his gaze. “You can just not tell unnie that I didn’t eat dinner tonight.”

“Okay,” Heeseung shrugged before getting up and leaving your room. You let out a sigh of relief when he does, thinking that he finally left you alone.

Or so you thought. As soon as your door was shut once again, Heeseung was dialing Yunjin’s number in hopes that she can suggest anything he can cook up to make you eat dinner.

“Heeseung! Is everything okay?” Yunjin asked immediately as soon as she answered on the 3rd ring.

“Y/N doesn’t want to eat,” he confesses. “She just sounds upset and I don’t know if it was anything I did or something just upset her before coming here.”

“Oh,” Yunjin sighed from the other line. “Well, I don’t know if I can tell you what might be the reason why she’s like that but ramyeon should do the job of feeding her for the night. We don’t usually let her have it for dinner, but when she’s especially resistant to eating, which usually happens when she’s upset, we just let her have it.”

“So ramyeon is the solution to all of this?” he asked, a chuckle following his inquiry.

“Yes,” Yunjin laughed from the other line. “She will inhale that shit so fast and the dinner problem is done before you know it.”

“Would it be so bad to tell me what upset her?” he asked once again. “If it’s something I did, I want to know. I don’t want to keep on doing something that upsets her, Yunjin.”

“I'm afraid it’s something all of us have little to no control of, Heeseung.” Yunjin dejectedly replies. “If there was anything I could do about it, I would’ve done it myself. But it’s out of our hands. But it isn't anything in particular that you did, don’t worry about that anymore.”

As soon as the call was dropped, Heeseung got to work making your dinner.

On the other hand, Yunjin turns to Chaewon and Eunchae who’s looking at her in shock that Heeseung called her.

“What did he say?” Eunchae inquiries immediately.

“I really think the conversation about her and Hee not being able to be together even if they do end up falling for each other got to her,” Yunjin starts. “She doesn’t want to eat dinner. Heeseung called to ask if there’s anything he could do to somehow just not make her skip dinner.”

“And you didn’t tell him that he’s partly the reason why she’s upset?” Chaewon added.

“Of course I didn’t!” Yunjin sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t want to upset them both. They seem into each other and it’s just sad that it’s supposed to end. I wouldn’t have wanted it to end if that was me.”

Eunchae gave her a weird look, “Not because I like Heeseung. I’m just saying if that was me and someone else and I’m getting treated like a proper girl in love, I wouldn’t have wanted it to end. I don’t even know if I’ll ever get to experience anything remotely close to that ever again!” Yunjin explained right away.

“I just feel bad for Y/N,” Yunjin continues. “You know she’s all that uninterested in the idea of dating and all before but you know she’s a hopeless romantic.”

–

“I made you something,” Heeseung knocked on the door once again, holding up a bowl as he stood by the slightly open door.

“Heeseung—”

“Before you complain it’s ramyeon and Yunjin is going to lecture you tomorrow for not eating dinner if you don’t eat this because I asked her if there’s anything you would eat so she knows that you’re being hard right now,” Heeseung cuts you off before barging inside of your room and placing the bowl in front of you.

If Heeseung wasn’t fast enough, he wouldn’t have noticed that you weren’t playing anymore and was instead doing something with your digital audio workstation software open in your laptop but you managed to change the window before he could check the song title.

“Eat up,” Heeseung demands, as he picks up the chopsticks and puts them in your hands. “Can you do it or do I have to chew it for you.”

“You are a disgusting rat, Heeseung,” you rolled your eyes at him before letting out a chuckle. “Where’s yours?”

“They’re outside, I’ll eat when you’re done.”

“Get a chair and eat here,” you ordered. “It’s sad to eat alone.”

Without any objections, Heeseung does what you asked him to do. Which in reality made your heart skip at how willing he was to make sure you weren’t feeling lonely. He had to take in consideration that you never ate alone when you were with your girls. And whenever you did go in your solo activities alone, either one of the girls ate with you through facetime or your manager ate with you.

“You didn’t have to do this, Hee,” you mumbled at him as you devoured your bowl. Heeseung couldn’t help but smile fondly at you. Yunjin was right, you were going to inhale it.

“I wanted to do it,” he replied shortly.

You hummed in response, looking at your laptop screen where you watched your favorite show while you ate. You were half watching and half lost in thought on whether or not you should tell him or if it was too much information. There was a reason why your members rarely ever let you eat alone and it was a reason only a specific group of people knew.

“You wanna know why they always make sure someone is always with me whenever I eat?”

Heeseung raised his eyebrows, looking at you with intent before he asked, “why?”

“The people in my school used to bully the fuck out of me during lunch,” you recalled. “I was in second grade when these kids started to make fun of me for bringing Korean food for lunch. I used to hate lunch breaks because it would mean that my favorite food in the world would get picked on for another day yet. Until people just started avoiding me at lunch tables and they would sometimes shoo me away from their table. It was too much for me back then so I just stopped eating lunch to avoid it. I would throw my food in the trash before getting on the bus because my mom would kill me if she found out that I wasn’t eating the food she prepared.”

“And the principal caught me throwing my food away one time and told my mom, and of course she was furious but then she heard why I didn’t eat lunch. Even if she switched up the food she gave me it still would’ve been unappetizing to eat and the kids still would bully me for ‘wanting to fit in’. I mean to be fair, maybe I really wasn’t the prettiest girl when I was a kid, and it probably was the reason they didn’t stop the bullying even after my food was switched. But you know… kids will be kids… I just wished someone would stop them and tell them it was wrong, you know? Because one thing led to another and the next thing I knew I switched to homeschooling and food was just a bad memory to me because I blamed it so much for not having any friends.”

“I hung around with Minji a lot when I was scouted,” you continued. “But she got transferred to Ador and I was alone once again. Then, Beomgyu found me eating alone in the practice hallway and the little shit just sat with me and ate his sandwich next to me, outyapping me because I got really shy when an idol approached me out of pity.”

“You didn’t bring it up to him at all?” He asked curiously.

You shrugged, “Boy, I was already struggling to debut. My friends were one by one getting chosen to be in survival shows and getting placed in debut lineups. I was starting to delude myself if I really lived up to my secret weapon trainee title because they really showed no interest in putting me in a debut lineup any time soon and only wanted me to help produce songs for the meantime. I did not want them to think that I am barely improving and I still had the audacity to demand having an eating buddy?”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he sighed, obviously brought down by the sudden lore being spilled.

“It’s no problem anymore,” you told him. “Beomgyu actually managed to toughen me up and lectured me for hours on end whenever he found out that I didn’t eat which was honestly absurd because we’re not even related and he keeps saying he’s doing it out of pity. But that idiot did manage to tell my manager and my members about the eating situation when I debuted and they kept their word. I’m surprised he wasn’t the person you called a while ago.”

“I have no prior knowledge that Beomgyu had that kind of power over you,” he laughed.

“He doesn’t,” you snorted. “He just never gets tired of saying the same thing over and over and I don’t always have the braincells to listen to him. So it’s ramyeon first, if it doesn’t work, call Beomgyu.”

“You and Gyu are really close, no?”

“He’s like my older brother that I never had,” you tell him. “We like to joke that he only acts like such because it makes him feel responsible without doing much. We’re also really close in personality so the friendship works.”

“I’ll know when to call him then,” he smirked playfully.

“I’ll know when to decline his call then,” you retort.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“Are you hot?” Heeseung asked as he reached for the mini fan that the staff was handing him as you and his members walked through the busy street trying to look for the restaurant that Jungwon found online.

“Not really—”

“Noona, we found it!” Ni-ki happily jumped as he ran back towards you and Heeseung, taking your hand quickly to bring you to the restaurant that was just a few stores away from where you and the rest of the older members were walking. Ni-ki reminded you so much of Eunchae. He started all shy and serious but did end up opening up to you and talking a lot once he got the hang of you.

“Your youngest really just stole your wife like that,” Jake teased as they watched Ni-ki open the door for you and get inside of the restaurant. “He looks like a kid excited to have his mom around.”

“She looks like she’s enjoying his company anyway,” Heeseung chuckled fondly, watching you and Ni-ki laugh at something as they entered the restaurant themselves. “Just let him be,” he tells them. He watches as you throw your head back like a kid while you laugh over something he’s yet to ask the context of, but he might just watch you laugh like this instead. You were adorable interacting with his youngest member like that.

“Have you ordered already?” Heeseung asked you.

“Oh, Jungwon handled all of the orders. I just told him to surprise me,” you replied, turning over to him as he reached for your hand. The weather outside was still very cold and it was a wonder how your hands stayed warm with that cold wind outside as if you had a personal heater inside of your body.

“Your usual food isn't on the menu though,” Heeseung replied, brows furrowing as his eyes trail back to Jungwon and Sunoo who were still finishing up the orders with the menu in their hands. “What if you don’t like it?”

“Then I’ll make you finish the rest of it,” you playfully squeezed his hand, making him shrug.

“And if I don’t like it?”

“We’ll pack it to-go and I’ll force myself to eat it at home,” you chuckled. “I wanted to see what your members would feed me, Heeseung. Chill. It’s not like I cannot go out of my usual food selection!”

–

“He's the laziest cook in the dorms,” Jay chuckled as he sat back with you while you two watched the other members play foot volleyball. “I was about to crash out on him when he called me that early but then he asked me how to make fucking curry at 4AM in the morning.”

“And you want to tell me what?”

“That I'm pretty sure Heeseung likes you—in love maybe,” he replied quietly, hoping that the mics won't be able to catch it as the smaller production team that went with you today only had one boom mic with them and it was being used towards the guys who were playing. “I heard he's been calling your members too to ask them how to make your favorite meals.”

“Jay, are you hearing yourself?” you ask, holding back a laugh as Heeseung tries to catch a falling Ni-ki before he lands on his butt after the younger attempted to kick a ball too early.

“Heeseung is a lovesick fool,” he laughed. “And you are a little dense to not notice that.”

You thought about it well. You'd be lying to say that you didn't notice that he was really kind to you and no friend would've gone the lengths of bringing you food in the practice room if you were too busy to grab food for yourself. Regardless of whether or not cameras were seeing what his efforts were, he did it anyway. But you've never been involved with anyone romantically—what do you know?

“Noona, join us!” Jungwon happily calls as he jumps. “Jay-hyung! Get up!”

You couldn't help but adore the cat-like leader. Jay helped you get up from your seat on the mat they laid down for you on the grass.

“Noona! Is in our team!” Jungwon declares that he and Ni-ki stood in front of you when Heeseung tried to take you.

“That is my wife!” Heeseung argued, trying to go around them to take you but the two were persistent.

“And we are around the same age, so she's ours!” Sunoo joined in, creating another wall on your side to close you away from Heeseung. “You guys are old!”

“You're not even 7 months older than Sunghoon!” Heeseung retorts. “Y/N! You're supposed to be on my side!”

“The kids want me on their team,” you laughed, reaching for Ni-ki's shoulder, which definitely was higher than you anticipated.

“The kids will always get their mom,” Jay shrugged jokingly, pulling Heeseung away so the round could start. “Even the court would agree.”

–

“Please give my gifts to the other boys, okay?” You told Jay as you got into the van, preparing to go to your afternoon schedule with your members this time.

“I'll make sure they thank you for it, Y/N,” he chuckled. “Don't worry about it.”

“They seem to love you very much,” Heeseung told you as soon as the van started moving.

You nodded. You noticed how they would make an effort to include you, even toning down their energy just to make sure they weren't tiring you out too much considering you still have things in your agenda after your time with them. Especially their younger members, they seemed pretty close to her despite only hanging out today.

Although you couldn't quite forget what Riki told you when you got to the park earlier, “I'm going to miss having you around when you and Hyung finish filming this show,” he told you.

You started to wonder how complicated it would be to maintain a good relationship with Enhypen after this show ends. You truly wanted to be friends with them after this. They were really a very friendly bunch after all. But if Jay is telling the truth, wouldn't that make it complicated? To remain friends with all of them but one because he had feelings for you before and the feeling is possibly mutual?

“Especially Ni-ki,” he chuckled. “That kid did not want to let go of you!”

“He's like Eunchae,” you chuckled at him. “Really shy at first, you would only get giggles from that poor girl. Then when she gets to know you she turns into yapperton 3000.”

“It's hard to comprehend that you're the second youngest in your group,” he shrugged.

“Still 3 years older than Eunchae though,” you smiled at him. “She is like everyone's little sister, then me and Zuha are twins. Yunjin is our big sister. Chaewon is our mom and Kkura is our fun gay aunt.”

“Do you think they'll like me?”

You were taken aback. Since when did Heeseung worry about being liked by anyone? Everyone likes Heeseung from the get go. The moment they lay eyes on him, he's already got this good aura around him and then he opens his mouth to sing and it's over for everyone. He has the qualities of a person that is likeable.

“You've met plenty of women in your life, Hee,” you laughed. “Especially being a male idol. You have a huge audience and the majority of them are women. I'm pretty sure you know that you are one of the very likeable men out there.”

“I appreciate that you think I'm likeable, but I can't just flirt with your sisters to make them like me!” He argued playfully. “Jagiya, do you think I annoy them?”

“For what?”

“For calling them all the time to teach me how to cook your dinner,” he explained. “Oh my god! What if noona thinks I'm annoying?”

“I'm pretty sure that's cute to them,” you chuckled, patting his knee to calm him down. “They like you, Hee. There's nothing to sweat about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

–

“Hello, my baby!” Chaewon happily goes over to you to hug you before stepping aside to let Kahuza and Eunchae literally pounce into you to give you a hug, Yunjin follows suit before greeting Heeseung. Sakura does not give you anything less than that before fist bumping Heeseung. By this time, you’ve already gone back to your apartment to freshen up and get ready for your next agenda.

“We already ordered, by the way,” Yunjin declares. “Oh, Heeseung, I asked Y/N, your order. I hope she got it right?”

“I'll eat anything,” he replies shyly.

“Please order anything you like if I got your order wrong. I asked all your members a while ago about your food preferences because you never told me anything and you always just ate exactly the same thing I usually eat.”

Yunjin watched the conversation intently. Heeseung always looked at you with eyes no one could dim and good Lord. If that isn't love, then she does not know what is.

“You ate an unfamiliar order a while ago,” he reminds you. “I'll do the same to return the favor.”

“Stop being cute, I might throw up,” Sakura joked across from you. “Is she being hard to live with, Heeseung?”

“Aside from the fact that she takes her sweet time getting ready and does not like getting up early,” Heeseung started. “I think she's okay to live with.”

“Do you like unnie?” Eunchae blurts out, chin resting on her hands as she smiles at Heeseung innocently.

“Eunchae!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, Eunchae seemed to know that already that’s why she bursted out laughing at everybody’s reaction because there was a lasting shocked face in Sakura’s face while Kazuha was laughing along with her, implying that she was in on the joke. Chaewon who was sitting next to Eunchae managed to playfully slap the younger’s arm in shock. And Yunjin… the ever so theatrical member, managed to choke on her water, when she heard Eunchae’s question.

“I don’t have a good enough reason not to like someone like Y/N,” Heeseung replied confidently. His chin even lifted a bit as he maintained eye contact with Eunchae as if convincing her to believe him.

The next thing you knew your heart was skipping beats as you watched him and Eunchae banter. You didn’t want to believe it because ultimately, the cameras are on and the mic can hear everything he’s saying right now… but he’s sounding a little too convincing and you don’t know how to feel about it.

“You didn’t have to go through all that banter with Manchae,” you whispered to him as soon as you felt him reach for your hand from under the table. “You don’t have to convince them.”

“I wanted to,” he replied coolly, fiddling with the rings on your fingers. “I want to convince them.”

“What for?” You asked as you watched him slide off the silver band from your middle finger to your ring finger. Your eyes followed the tiny little diamond encrusted on the top of your grandmother’s silver wedding band that she’s given you as a gift for your birthday a few months back.

To say that your heart was exploding was an understatement. You felt everything and anything all at once. You had to hold your breath and blink a couple of times to hold back your tears as he aligned it properly before he glanced at you.

“Because a husband must always prove that he is in love with his wife,” he replies before poking your cheek.

—

Somehow the conversation with Heeseung during that dinner never left you. You never got confirmation if he meant what he said or if he only did that because he knew the cameras were watching. In all honesty, you just want to believe it because it would hurt so much to hear that it isn’t real.

You liked Heeseung.

You were tired of denying it and sitting in front of your desk trying to get your little passion project song done has never felt more real as you try to justify that it's a normal thing to fall in love with people like Heeseung. It's his day job to make girls fall in love with him and you were a willing victim to his charm. Weirdly enough, you wouldn't have it in any other way.

You only have seven more days with Heeseung before you go back home and only go to the studio to film the confessionals. You're not even sure if you'll see him there but you want to. You don't want this to end.

You still want someone to reach for when the movie gets too sad. You still want someone to hold your hand when you're tired. You still want someone to care for you whenever you don't feel like eating or when you're sick—but the thing is, you've had all of these before Heeseung.

Heeseung has done a great job making it comfortable for both of you and you especially by providing everything that you're used to when you're in your dorms. He mimicked everything he could just to make sure that you were comfortable with him. But now that the end is near, you suppose you were too comfortable.

So now you're texting Yunjin, while holding back tears as you send her the demo version of your song after a long dreadful writer's block.

—

“Are you ready to meet them?” You asked Heeseung as he entered the car after you.

“Can you guys stop being cute, it’s gross,” Beomgyu rolled his eyes before crawling inside the car and squeezing himself between the both of you. “You have to ask the hand of her older brother first, Heeseung. Have you got no manners?”

“You are so annoying,” Heeseung rolled his eyes at him, holding back a laugh at how unserious his best friend was.

“You married my other best friend, imagine how that feels for me!” Beomgyu argued. “And if you’re going to argue about how this shouldn’t be that big of a deal for me, I’m here to tell you that it is. Because it’s gross to see the both of you together and we’ve been friends for long enough to guarantee my invitation to her wedding and I was not even informed that it’s going to be with you!”

“Calm down, oh my god!” You slapped his shoulder to hold him back from nagging Heeseung any more.

Your actions might not seem like it but you were grateful the production staff agreed that it was a great idea to bring Beomgyu along since, essentially, this whole man-child has treated you like family and your family did the same to him. And if they really wanted to sell the ‘meeting the family’ fantasy that they’ve been conceptualizing as your marriage soon reaches its conclusion, they must go all the way. Alas, Beomgyu is here. Lodged in between you and Heeseung because apparently, it’s gross to see your two best friends get married for a tv show.

“You are an entire challenge to get through,” Heeseung murmured as he poked on Beomgyu’s side to annoy him even more.

“Imagine the interrogation I can put you through if you keep acting up, Heeseung!” Beomgyu threatened him, eyes widening as he jokingly peered over Heeseung. “I am the favorite friend and there’s no topping that. I can put you through hours of interrogation with just one bad mouth.”

“I swear to everything good, if the both of you don’t shut up the entire ride I’m throwing you off this car.”

The both of them seemed to get the message when they looked back at you before quietly tugging on the seat belt to fit them before the car started. The car ride was relatively quiet, aside from the occasional banter that you had no problems whatsoever breaking up immediately before it got too serious, it was peaceful. Even the driver insisted on putting on some music just so it wouldn’t be too quiet whenever the two had to shut up for the sake of your sanity.

You can't help but put out a huge sigh when you reach your grandparents home. You had explained to your grandmother last night the arrangements with Heeseung and that it was only for the tv show and you wouldn't have married someone you don't know beforehand. Contrary to what you formerly believed, your grandmother had a good laugh last night about the concept of the show and found it funny to keep it a secret from your grandfather for the meantime and surprise him about your marriage when you arrive.

“Y/N!” Your grandfather happily waddles to your car as soon as you step out of the vehicle, your grandmother slowly following him. The old man happily pulls you into a hug doing a little dance as he turns you around before he notices Beomgyu and does the same with him. “Beomgyu!”

“Who is this fine gentleman, Y/N!” Your grandmother smirked as soon as he noticed Heeseung smiling at the both of them shyly. It was so weird seeing him look so shy. He looked like he was screaming for help and he had to wipe his palms that began sweaty profusely the moment he heard your grandfather's voice.

“Good morning, Sir Y/G/N and Ma’am Y/GM/N, I am Lee Heeseung from Enhypen. I come from the same company as your granddaughter and we're filming a show today which…” Oh dear heavens. Heeseung had it all practiced before he even got in the car. He practiced it in the mirror this morning, even practiced his speech with you before leaving the apartment but now he couldn't remember anything. Not a single thing on how he can properly break it to your grandfather that you got married for a variety show.

“Grandpa, Heeseung is my husband—”

“Excuse me?” Your grandfather looked like he was about to have a heart attack with the sudden news. “Does your mother know? Did any of your parents know? How could your company let you do this? Y/N! You're only 21!”

Your grandmother was taking it all in her to hold back from bursting out in laughter, holding on to Beomgyu as he does the same. Heeseung on the other hand, didn't look any better than your grandfather. He looked like he was going to pass out in fear with how your grandfather is reacting to all of this right now.

“Eomma knew it,” you joked. “Jen told her.”

“Yunjin told your mother? You couldn't even tell your mother yourself?”

“It's for the tv show only, grandpa,” Beomgyu bursted out in laughter as soon as your grandma signalled him to tell him already. She knew you were going to play it for as long as you could because the mischievous child that you are.

“It's not real? You did not sign anything?”

“Just the contract for the show and an NDA that I'm not going to talk about until it's aired,” you laughed at him as the old dog let out a sigh of relief.

“Why do you always do this to me?” he huffed as you looked back at your grandma, who planned it all. “Of course it was your idea!”

“Well, Mr. Heeseung,” he smiled at the younger. “I am glad that you wanted to meet us even if this marriage is not for real.”

“I am actually from Uiwang-si too,” Heeseung replies politely before he finally comes out of the car to bow down to your grandparents. “I am very honored to get to meet you, sir.”

You all gasped in surprise when Heeseung, in his light brown pants, went down on the grass to kneel and bow to your grandparents. “Thank you for bringing Y/N mother into this world, without her the world would’ve never seen how talented of a person she is.”

“Please get up there, son,” your grandfather laughed, helping him get up and dust the specks of dirt on his clothes. “Come inside.”

You laughed as you approached Heeseung, Beomgyu managing to distract your grandparents with his excitement for your grandmother’s food.

“Your hands are very sweaty,” you laughed at him, as you grabbed his hand to walk him in your grandparents’ home. “Were you that nervous?”

“I think I lost my heartbeat for a good 30 seconds when you broke it out like that,” he whined. “Good graces, I thought he was going to kill me!”

“He’s a cool grandpa,” you laughed. “Even if we did get married for real, he still would’ve accepted you. He has no room for resentment.”

“Heeseung, come here! We have Y/N middle school pictures, come look!” Beomgyu laughed from the door, holding up an old photo album that you recognize to be yours and your little brother’s that your grandmother made from the pictures that your mom sent them when you were back in New York.

“Those are horrendous, put it back, idiot!” You yelled at him, dragging Heeseung inside before you ran towards Beomgyu to take the photobook away. “You are an insufferable little bitch, Beomgyu, oh my God, put it back!”

Heeseung took a look at the place while you and Beomgyu quarrel over the photobook.

“Come here, Heeseung,” your grandfather called him over the piano on the corner of the living room. It was no secret that your family did have a wealthy background. After all, after a little more research under his belt, your family did own a successful business in the engineering field both in the country and in the US. It was sort of surprising to find that out, considering your modest way of living in the apartment with him. “Loosen up, kid. I’m not going to bite you.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled nervously still. “It’s the first time I’m meeting someone’s family.”

“You’ve met your members’ families, I’m sure,” your grandfather quips. “What’s the difference now? Y/N is your colleague just as much as they are.”

Heeseung thought of it well and hard even though it came out hard with you and Beomgyu still running around the house fighting over the photobook. His eye caught a picture of you dancing in a ballet tutu with a tambourine in one hand.

“That’s La Esmeralda,” your grandfather tells him when he notices the younger one staring at it. “She’s been dancing that variation since before she could wear pointe shoes. On her first birthday, her grandma put those ballet slippers in front of her at the last minute because Y/N’s mother used to dance ballet too. It used to be her whole life. She did nothing but dance but then decided that she was done and went straight into managing the family business. Y/N eyed those slippers before she was allowed to even pick and the moment she’s allowed, she grabbed onto it so fast and refused to give back that singular slipper.”

“She’s never looked back since. She would sleep in those ballet slippers as a baby. She was obsessed with it. Then one day this recruitment woman came to her after her dance recital and then it clicked something in her the same way engineering switched inside of her mother. In a blink of an eye, our Y/N didn’t want to be a ballerina anymore. She wanted to sing and you would think that four fruitless years of training would bring her back—but that kid never knows when to give up. The moment she decides something—call it a done deal, she will find a way to have that no matter what. When she loves, she loves it wholly and with everything that she has, even if it takes a lot of time to get there.”

Heeseung couldn’t admire the determination that you had as she looked at the years of ballet pictures that you had since you were in diapers. Some were even photos of you dancing with your mother. You really were a woman of your words… which… well… if weeks ago he wasn’t sure if he was in love with you… now he’s sure of it.

“Now, I don’t know your intentions with my granddaughter,” your grandfather continues, reaching for Heeseung’s shoulder as he pats it. “But whatever you do, I hope you don’t break something in her that will lose that determination, especially her ability to give as much love as she can. Because I don’t know who my granddaughter would still be if she loses that.”

Heeseung had no intention of hurting you. If he has to stay away from you just to make sure that it doesn’t reach the point of breaking you in that case, then he will even if it would feel like burning him alive. He’s never met anyone quite like you before—someone so open but so mysterious at the same time. It’s like he knew everything about you because you had no problem sharing it but still, there’s always more to you than what you’d tell.

“Yeobo, Heeseung, food is ready!” Your grandmother calls, making the both of you turn towards the entrance to the kitchen.

You and Beomgyu were busy placing the food and the plates on the table. You were like a kid again, arguing with your brother and then making up the next moment to get ready for food. You looked so relaxed and carefree around here than when you were in Seoul.

Heeseung was convinced he’s never seen you eat this much before. He just knows you’ll complain about how you’ll need to go to the gym first before going home just to burn everything you consumed today or your trainer would be a bitchy bunch when she notices your sudden weight gain. He hated that it’s the way that it is, but after a few arguments about her over worrying about it, he’s finally come into the acceptance that it’s the price they all pay for their dreams and no matter how fucked up that is—while someone has to go and change that ideal—it’s how it is right now.

It’s like watching you be another version of yourself that’s still you. Because everything you are is still the same, but more alive… and if he hasn’t admitted to himself, yet. Holy shit, he is in love and his heart skips eight beats every time you look at him with your pretty eyes that look like you’re convincing him to treat you like a baby every time you do. And for the longest time, he thought love looked like something else… he’s not quite sure what they’re supposed to look like but he definitely did not expect love to look… exactly like you.

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Beomgyu shrugs as he tosses Heeseung the can of beer as they sit on the rooftop of the apartment building that they sent you and Heeseung in.

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Heeseung shrugged.

“Everyone can see it, idiot,” Beomgyu laughed, hitting the back of his head. “Everyone knows you guys actually fell in love but none of you care enough to admit it.”

“Like it’s even possible to admit that,” Heeseung chuckled bitterly, opening the can before chugging down on the alcohol. “Can you imagine the amount of protest trucks they’re going to send in front of the building if they find out? They’re going to block the streets. Worse case scenario they’re going to send Y/N death threats. I don’t think I have the stomach to instigate that.”

“So you care about her?” Beomgyu pressed.

“You care about Y/N and I don’t question you like this!”

“Because when the topic of protest trucks being sent to the building came when she debuted and everyone was planning on the PR to make sure that our image does not get perceived as a threat to the fans, Y/N and I just laughed it out and called bullshit,” Beomgyu explained. “Even the idea of getting death threats did not faze her. We never cared if people called our friendship something else. But you seem to care more than that, so it’s different.”

Heeseung fell silent. What’s the point of hiding it from Beomgyu anyway? He’s known him and you since before you and Y/N even met. If there’s anyone that will sense it, it’s going to be him.

“I’ve signed more NDAs than brand deals, to be honest,” Beomgyu continued. “I don’t mind signing another if it means you guys are going to stop acting like fools about this. Even the Le Sserafim girls are literally okay with it. It’s possible. You just have to want it.”

“Do you know how far fetched it is to say that I actually had the chance to actually fall in love with Y/N?” Heeseung started. “I literally liked her since the day I laid eyes on her to the point that I used to get so jealous that you get to have that relationship with her and I don’t.”

“It sounds stupid, really,” Beomgyu laughed before taking a sip of his beer.

“It doesn’t even feel real that I said okay to this fucking show without knowing that she’ll be my wife for 30 days! Are you getting this? It’s like the universe just gave me a chance and I don’t even know how to go about it now! I’m not even sure if she feels the same way!”

“Oh trust me, she does.”

“God. It’s like the world is asking me to give up on everything I ever worked so hard for to be able to actually experience being in love!” He cried. “And it fucking knows that I will but I don’t want to hurt her like that.”

“That sounds to me like you’re the only one here that’s afraid of the hate,” Beomgyu shrugged. “Because knowing Y/N, she would walk in front of those protest trucks and would possibly take a selfie with it if she’s feeling like it. She knows her worth so much that she’d bring coffee for the protesters because it’s hot outside.”

“That woman has loose screws in her head, she turns absolutely unhinged once she’s put her mind into something,” He continued. “I know it’s weird that a girl with eating schedule problems can be that tough, but she is.”

Heeseung lets out a big sigh as he watches Beomgyu stand in front of him.

“So now, I should ask you,” he trails off. “Are you willing to love my best friend with everything that you have inside you and nothing less? Because if no, you should really just stop being so damn unnecessarily romantic with her when the cameras are not on. That woman is going to love you wholly and nothing else if she decides that she does, and you have to make it clear if you’re going to meet her halfway or not because you’re not going to like what you’re going to hear from me and Yunjin if you lead her on, Heeseung.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Heeseung asked to diffuse the tension but Beomgyu, so serious all of sudden, did not back down.

“Because it is a threat, Hee,” he quips before going back to his seat. “You have 5 more days to tell her how you feel before the show ends. When you’re clear on where the both of you stand, tell us. And we’ll take whatever steps we must take.”

—

“Jagiya?” Heeseung called as he stumbled inside of the apartment. “Jagiya?”

You turn to look at Heeseung’s miserable state, leaning against the wall next to the door, shocked that he even managed to get this wasted after he fully refused to drink with you and Beomgyu when you were in your grandparents’ house.

“I thought you only had beer when you went up?” You asked as you scurried over him, immediately helping the poor boy get back up on his feet and into the dining room chair. “Where’s Beomgyu?”

“Manager… picked him up…” He drawled as he rested his head on his hands while his elbows were on the table, smiling stupidly at you as he watched you scramble in the kitchen to get him anything that might help his state.

“What else did you drink?” You asked as you slid a glass of water in front of him, urging him to drink.

“Beomgyu… that sneaky little bitch… brought… um… that green—”

“Soju?”

“Yes! You’re so smart!” He laughed, clapping his hands happily. You couldn’t help but laugh at his stupid state. How can he even drink this much without thinking of the consequences after?

“Well, finish this already,” you told him, picking up the glass of water to help him drink.

And just after he’s steady enough to stand up with your help, he bolts to the bathroom and hurls.

“I’m pretty sure, you’re not going to be drinking a lot more often after this, no?” you asked him as you helped him sit up against the tile wall after he was done. “Come on, let’s clean you up.”

You got up and found a wash cloth that you drenched in warm water from the tap before ringing it. You managed to clean most of his limbs up, but there was some vomit on his shirt that you had to clean up before you let him sleep because that would be awfully disgusting.

“Can you clean yourself?” you asked, trying to see if he was functional enough to at least change his clothes.

“I actually like having my wife take care of me like this,” he giggled giddily. “So nice and so caring.”

You shrugged at his drunken state before getting up.

“Noooo…” He whined, grabbing onto your ankle to keep you from going. “Don’t leave me!”

“I’m just going to get you a new shirt, Heeseung,” you laughed at him, bending down to take his hand off your ankle. “Wait here.”

You went up to his room to retrieve a shirt when you found his phone ringing. A number you recognized to be your grandfather’s. You didn’t want to invade his privacy so instead you took it and allowed it to ring until you were back in the bathroom where Heeseung sat with his long legs straight in front of him, lazily leaning against the tile wall.

“Who is it?”

“Grandpa,” you replied nervously. “Why is he calling you at this time of the day? Shouldn’t he be asleep?”

“I don’t know!” he claims before you answer the phone and put it on a loudspeaker.

“Heeseung, son?”

“Yes, Grandpa?” he answered politely, trying his best to sound normal.

“I just realized that I forgot to tell you that I think you are good for Y/N,” your grandpa exhaled. “And wherever your relationship goes after your tv show, I hope you guys stay good friends. You are good for Y/N. And I can also tell that you like her because no one gets that nervous when meeting your friend’s grandparents. I hope you stop denying that.”

“Umm…” Heeseung trailed off, not knowing what to say. He looked up at you to ask for help but you seemed to be in a panic too.

“Just say thank you!” you mouthed at him in a panic, not wanting to reveal that you have been hearing the conversation all along.

“Thank you, grandpa,” he says, following exactly what you told him to.

“Well, it’s getting late. I should rest. Please tell Y/N I said good night and good night to you too, Heeseung. Please take care of my granddaughter.”

“Good night, grandpa,” he said before the call was dropped. “Oh my god, I think that just sobered me up!” he laughed slightly before wincing, making him lean back down on the tile wall to support his head.

“No, it didn’t,” you shrugged at him before kneeling next to him. “Can you take your shirt off, so you can change?”

He carefully tugs on his shirt to pull it off before handing it to you. In exchange, you gave him the fresh shirt that you got from his room. It was surprising that he didn’t fuss about it so you decided to take advantage of his compliant state and went over to the kitchen to grab a chair and put it next to his sink. You weren’t sure if he had anything on his agenda tomorrow, but are you really going to let him out tomorrow looking like a dehydrated piece of vegetable after all he drank with your best friend? Maybe you cared enough about Heeseung to not let him do that to himself.

“What’s that for?”

“Get up, I’m not letting you skip your skincare,” you replied in a duh tone while you helped him get up from the floor to his seat on the chair. “Sit properly.”

“You are crazy,” he laughed, as he patiently does what you tell him.

“You like me though,” you replied condescendingly.

He chuckled before responding, “I actually do.”

“Tell me that again when you’re sober, alright?” you tell him before squirting some of his cleanser on your hands and lathering it on his face.

“Come here,” he chuckled smugly as he gently placed both his hands on either of your sides to pull you closer to him, making you sit on his lap. “You heard it from your grandpa, jagiya.”

“But you’re only admitting it now that you’re off your face,” you replied to him patiently, as you kept on rubbing the cleanser over his face. “If you really mean it, you won’t have a problem saying it again when you’re not intoxicated.”

You continued doing his skincare sitting on his lap in silence.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m only doing this because I’m drunk because I am willing to tell you the same thing over and over again tomorrow when I’m not in this state.” He tells you. “Saying that I like you is an understatement because doing this show with you really just intensified what I already had for you years ago. I can’t explain to anyone enough how I almost passed out when I found out that it was going to be you to do this show with me.”

“You can ask Jay and everyone else. Because they knew—well, they sensed it because I couldn’t get myself to admit it for the longest time. But right now? I don’t think that I can let you go anymore now that I’ve got to experience all these with you.” Heeseung added.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, bringing a hand over to your face to wipe the tears that you didn’t know had already escaped your eye. “I’m so in love with you and it sucks that they put people in situations like this to fall in love and separate them after—but I’m going to work hard to turn this to our favor once it’s over, okay?”

“Please keep your word, Hee,” you mumbled quietly. “I need you to keep your word because I don’t mind doing the same.”

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You were up bright and early the next morning to get Heeseung a hangover drink and some soup because it wouldn’t be logical to buy any more stocks when you’ll be moving out less than 5 days from now. The camera crew will be there in a few hours so you really had to wake Heeseung up as soon as you get home or he’ll run late for filming if he doesn’t

“You didn’t have to do this, Y/N.” He mumbled as soon as he was down on the table enjoying his soup.

You don’t know why it did, but it stung to hear him call you by your name after confessing last night and getting you used to being called jagiya. You shouldn’t have let yourself fall for it, he was off his face after all. Why did you even consider believing it in the first place?

“I had to,” you mumbled quietly. “You looked helpless last night. It’s actually surprising you still woke up this early.”

“Y/N?”

“What?” You lamented. Hearing it the first time was stung, for the second time? You wanted to cry in humiliation for assuming that he meant what he said. God it felt like the same way Minji broke it to you that she was moving to Ador after promising you that she’ll always stick around—and you couldn’t blame her. You couldn’t blame anyone because at the end of the day you both had dreams and you can’t demand anyone to stay for your comfort. Not in that competitive environment.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asked. “I’m sorry for the bother last night.”

“I wish you weren’t sorry about it though,” you replied honestly. “That makes me feel like everything you said was a mistake.”

“Oh!” He almost spins after you jog his memory. “Jagiya, I meant everything I said!”

“Then why are you calling me by my name all of a sudden? God, if this is a joke to you, Heeseung, I might as well walk away right now, because I can’t let you do that to me,” you rambled.

“Okay, let’s calm down first,” Heeseung sighs heavily.

“Don’t sigh like that!” you snapped at him, making him break into a soft chuckle.

“I was waiting until you’re done with your coffee before I tell you,” he laughed softly, before walking over to your side of the table. “You’re a little snappy before your coffee. So I was waiting for you to finish that first and then I will tell you how you are the most beautiful person in the world and I am so in love with you, I’ll fight Bang PD-nim even for a slight chance to hold your hand on camera after this show is over.”

You couldn’t help but cry even more after you realized that you have overreacted over the situation.

“I hate you,” you sobbed as Heeseung tried to contain his laughter out of awe as he wrapped his arms around you.

“And I am so in love with you for it,” he continued laughing.

–

“What’s on the agenda today?” you asked the production manager as they set up the cameras inside of your home.

“Well,” the production manager smiled at you, “We have a surprise for the both of you today.”

“Oh?” Heeseung quips, head peeking through the bathroom door while he was brushing his teeth.

“We have your members with us today,” they tell you before the door bursts open and your groups’ members enter the home one by one, crowding your living room faster than you’ve ever seen before.

“Hi!” You jumped happily, throwing yourself over to Yunjin when she entered the room, wrapping your legs around her as you happily squealed.

“Well, they’re reunited,” Jay laughed as the camera panned over to you and Yunjin, still screaming happily.

“What? What’s on the schedule today?”

“Well, you will have a virtual marriage ceremony in Everland,” they announced. “When you were in the cafe when you guys first met, we asked you to draw your dream fairytale wedding. We were quite impressed with the design that Y/N made that we started questioning if we could do it. But we managed! So, we're all going to the Hybe building today, get everyone ready and we'll be on our way for the big event.”

You couldn't contain your excitement as they handed you an iPad with a picture of a fully realized version of your dress sketch from that day that they asked you to. You didn't think too much of it back then and really just drew your fantasy, you didn't expect that they'd actually use that in real life.

–

Soon enough the parade was in full swing, people were starting to gather around as soon as they noticed who was sitting on the huge carousel float and the convertible cars behind. Your members were dressed as princesses too, Heeseung's were dressed as knights.

People were squealing as they watched you and Heeseung interact with the kids in the crowd. You were dancing and playing with the bubble machines they gave you early on.

To be frank, it made you feel like a kid again. You didn't get to experience a lot of it when you were a kid because you were always busy with dancing and even when you became an adult, you still barely had time to go. You couldn't believe that you were there on the carriage, being looked up to by the babies and kids that were probably there for the first time. You hoped that they were getting the fun that they were meant to experience being in a theme park.

“Y/N!” The crowd cheered your name as you turned to them and gave them a little dance.

Heeseung watched you fondly from the side. He couldn't help but notice how natural your presence were, especially around kids. You looked so happy, your smile was brighter than he's ever seen.

“Lee Heeseung! Is she beautiful?” A kid yelled from his direction, making you look over the kid and then to your partner. You thought he'd deflect it, anything he would say or do right now will be held against him by his begrudging fans. You would understand if he did.

But instead Heeseung crossed his arms at the kid and asked him back, “Have you seen a woman more beautiful than her?”

You couldn't stop yourself from blushing, even attempting to hide your face in one of the posts, making the crowd laugh at your cute reaction.

“Aigoo,” he cooed, walking over you and hugging you from behind, once again making the crowd roar as he laughed at how shy you were getting.

Just then, the float started moving again. By then you were too shy to even move from your position, leaving Heeseung with no choice but to take your hands off the post and use it to do a little cute dance infront of everyone.

You were laughing uncontrollably, you face was crimson through the make up on your face and you were sure your face would be all over the internet when you go home later but you couldn’t seem to be worried about that right now. All your mind was on trying to stabilize yourself in front of the people once again.

“Are you okay now?” he asked, fixing a stray hair that slipped out of your perfectly pinned hair. “You're not very red anymore.” He points it out, carefully dabbing a paper towel that the staff handed him moments ago on your forehead while chuckling lightly.

“You're saying it like it wasn't your fault,” you rolled your eyes at him playfully, softly hitting his shoulder.

“Come dance with me,” he grinned, reaching for both of your hands and interlocking them behind his neck before placing his on your waist. The both of you pranced around the lively music as the float moved to it's next spot.

Asking you to dance was Heeseung's way of concealing the fact that he was about to drop dead out of nervousness for what he's about to do. In the briefing a while ago, while they were getting ready to go to Everland, he was asked if he wanted to do something special, considering that the two of you only have less than a week before the filming of the show is over. After being egged on by his members to do a cute proposal, he agreed that it would be cute and would make the experience more special for you.

“You're having so much fun, no?” he asked, as he spun you around, your dress flowing around you. You can hear the faint coos of your members from the next car, even laughs from Heeseung's teammates.

“So much,” you replied as you attempted to do the same thing for him but the height difference made it much more difficult for him, bending his back more than he would usually do.

He laughed at himself before grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around.

Soon enough the float stops again and you notice everything starts to slow down a bit from what it used to. You looked around curiously, trying to figure out what was going on with the sudden change of tempo, but instead you find Heeseung down on one knee with a silver ring presented before you, before he proudly shouts out, just so everyone can hear it, “Y/L/N Y/N, will you marry me?”

The crowd roars all so suddenly after Heeseung says it, making you jump a bit from how loud it was. You could even hear Sunoo, Kazuha and Eunchae screaming a few feet away. You looked around, once again, and it was a fairytale. You don’t even know why no one has climbed up your float and grabbed you by the neck after seeing this unfold. The girls were out of the car now, they were happily jumping while Heeseung’s younger members cheered as loud as they could, even chanting some ship name you’ve only heard for the first time.

Looking back at Heeseung, his eyes never looked so clear and so happy before. His smile made his face so insanely handsome, you began questioning if it was possible to fall in love with the same face twice and feel just as gobsmacked with how beautiful he was made.

“Yes,” you laughed, awkwardly going down on your knees too. You don’t even know why you did but it felt right to just be there, on the same eye level with him. He laughed at your actions as he slipped the ring on your finger, next to your grandmother’s ring that you still kept to where he moved it.

“Kiss her!” a kid yelled from the crowd, following an uproar of requests to do so. Of course it was not going to happen, but Heeseung did manage to sneak a soft kiss on the side of your head as the both of you posed for the people taking photos.

You don’t even know how you’re going to recover from this. You were smiling and dancing all throughout the rest of the parade, but deep inside, you were hoping that Heeseung stays true to his word because there is no way that you were going to be able to live normally after this. There was no way that after filming this show, you would be able to show up in the same music shows acting like this man never made you question your capabilities for love.

You were in too deep, you don’t even know how you’ll manage to ever be the same after this. And it wasn’t like you. You were resilient. You knew how to withstand the adversities that came in your life.

But what if it’s not so much of an adversity? What if it was love? How were you ever going to endure that?

After all of you were worn down by excitement and thrill from hopping from one ride to another in the park, you were later informed to rest early after the group dinner, as you will be back in the studio to record your special performance song for the music show that will be aired once the variety show airs. The song would be yet to be decided but you were pretty sure it would be heavily discussed over dinner. So you just decided to go with what everyone thinks would sell the most.

You weren’t quite sure how to feel by then. You were tired and your thoughts plagued you over and over whenever you had your silent moments. You couldn’t believe it. In 4 more days, you will be separated from Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asked, as he reached for your hand. “You’re very quiet.”

“Just tired,” you replied shortly. “I’m okay.”

Heeseung didn’t buy your excuse, but he held onto your hand still, hoping that it would give you some sense of comfort to whatever might be bothering you. You had a long day and tomorrow and the following days would be as well considering that they are now asking you to record and perform a song for the last episode, which he hasn’t even experienced, but is already breaking him inside to think about.

He doesn’t even want to think about what song he would perform, in high hopes that he could avoid it that way despite knowing the inevitability of it. But what’s wrong with a little blind hope, no?

જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You sat there inside of the studio as you watched Heeseung record his part of the song, Accidentally In Love.

It didn't feel real that you and Heeseung have to get this all done in a matter of 3 days. It only feels like yesterday when your girls were only convincing you to do this—now, you're four days away from parting ways. And you managed to fall in love with someone you barely knew for less than a month, and him likewise.

Do it for the plot they said.

No matter where this road may take you and Heeseung, things will never be the same for you. You can never tell how it will be for him—but for you? A piece of you will never recover from this. A piece of you will always remember the shape of his body next to you or the way his perfume smells or the way the palm of his hands molds perfectly into yours. Nothing can make you not remember those things now. And if it doesn't end well… then you guess the only comfort left is that you'll see him around. You can pretend that things are okay—and that it's all a performance because that's what you do, you perform.

It's one sick and twisted performance. But at least… you got to experience it, no?

“Jagiya, it's your turn!” Heeseung happily exits the booth and reaches for the notebook in front of you where you had taken notes from your vocal coach earlier.

He was actually surprised how detailed your notes were. At this age, he wouldn't think someone would still be this serious about taking coaching, especially since you've been a trainee and an idol for years now. Somehow, even though it wasn't a question before, it made sense that you were your company's golden child—you were dedicated to your craft and was always open to improving anything, and you always come through with the best results. Years ago, Heeseung thought it was not worth his dreams to pursue any girl. But you're Y/N. You are way out of his league. And you are in love with him. It would be blasphemous to not take the risk for his dream girl. He doesn't have it in him to waste that.

“You two are really comfortable,” your coach chuckled at the both of you. “Young love.”

You and Heeseung looked at each other, shocked at what your coach just said. The woman laughed payfully at your surprised faces, “It would take a person to be braindead to not notice how in love the both of you are. I can hear it, even if you don’t say it directly. I can see it, just by the mere look in your young faces. And the air got disgustingly sweet the moment you two stepped in this studio.”

You glanced at the camera, but the man behind shook his head to tell you that he wasn’t recording. You don’t wish to ruin your career, as much as you love Heeseung but you were going to take the risk and believe the cameraman that he wasn’t recording when you said it, “You think so?”

“My husband looked at me like that when we were younger,” she smiled, grabbing her phone from the soundboard and unlocking her phone to show you her screensaver. It was a photo of her and her husband, with their two sons. One was a little over three years old and the other looked like he was just a year old. “Now he’s taught our boys to look at me the same way. It pays to marry men who truly make you happy and would do anything to keep you that way.”

Heeseung wondered if he did that to you—if he made you happy. Because he wants to do that. He wants to be the person that you’ll think of wanting to come home to or at least for where they are right now, someone you’ll be excited to call after a busy day. He wants to be the person that you’ll want to reach for when things get heavy or if you want to celebrate even the tiniest things. He wants to be your person. He wants to be present for you.

“I must be lucky then,” you joked. Half-meant though.

“Only one of the very few who are,” she chuckled, reaching for your arm to give you a little squeeze. “If they tell you to enjoy your youth first, tell them it’s even more enjoyable to do it together. Don’t let them get to you, okay?”

–

“Tired?” Heeseung asked as soon as you rest your head on his shoulder only seconds after he’s settled next to you inside the car.

“Yeah,” you respond quietly, trying to get a few minutes of rest before you are home. “We had to polish the choreography for the comeback next week after our rehearsals. The steps were pretty fast and detailed.”

“I know you’ll do great next week.”

“We’re not going home to the same place, next week,” you mumbled sadly.

“I’ll watch you still,” he reassures, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I will always watch you and think you’re doing great.”

–

“The two of you are going to be allowed to start packing up your things tonight,�� they told you as you tried to hold your breath to keep yourself from breaking down.

You were exhausted. After your performance in MBC’s music show, you had to follow through your original schedule with your group to rehearse for your comeback show which was draining with the amount of criticism you had to receive from how distracted you seemed the entire time.

Judging from how quiet Heeseung was being, you knew he had a long day too and you didn’t want to add up to it by telling him and allowing it to weigh him down even more.

“I need to talk to you, Y/N, before you go,” your manager called before you could stand up and gather your things from the green room.

You nodded and followed her outside to the other makeup room so that you may be able to speak in private.

“Are you and Lee Heeseung together?” she asked sternly as soon as you shut the door after you.

You looked at her in shock, wondering if you were too obvious about it or if she could read your mind.

“What do you mean?”

“I need you to not play dumb with me, Y/N.” She tells you, the atmosphere getting thicker around the both of you, making your heart pound against your chest.

“I don’t know…”

The older woman seemed to notice the fear in your energy, making her regret the harsh tone she used on you almost immediately. The woman softened as soon as she noticed your eyes glossing as you looked at her.

“Y/N,” she sighed. “I need to know it if you want me to help you.”

You let out a deep breath that you didn’t notice you were holding. Along with it, came with the rest of your tears as you slid down on the floor, crying.

You don’t even know why you started to cry. Was it a relief? Was it because you knew this was going to bring trouble to your group? What is because you could put Heeseung’s career in jeopardy? God, a few days ago you were so sure that you were going to power through this with Heeseung? Yesterday, you were so sure that you could do this—but now? You don’t know where it all went. You don’t know how to feel.

It was the first time you felt as such. It was the first time that you had to admit that you were not sure how to go about something that you wanted so badly because this time, it wasn’t just you. It’s Heeseung’s career and his life that’s on the line too. And you don’t know if you can do that to him.

“Y/N,” your manager called softly, helping you up and ushering you to sit on one of the chairs. “Are you and Heeseung together? I’m not going to be mad at you or him. I just need to know. I want you to be happy.”

“I don’t know what we are,” you confessed. “We’ve only established liking each other, but other than that, I don’t even know where we stand.”

“Thank you for telling me, darling,” she tells you while squeezing your hand to calm you down. “After this, I’m going to sit you and the girls down on how to go about this behind the media, okay?”

She helped you look less miserable when you went out by giving you your baseball cap and a facemask before exiting the building to get to your ride home.

“Please eat dinner and pack your things, okay?” she reminds you one last time before closing the door after you.

—

“Hee,” you called Heeseung as soon as you saw him exit the bathroom, freshly showered.

“Yes?”

“Watch this with me,” you tell him, reaching for him to pull him faster next to the empty seat next to you.

“What movie is it?”

“Serendipity,” you replied. “It’s my parents’ favorite movie.”

“Serendipity,” He sounded it out like a kid learning a new word for the first time. “What does it mean?”

“It’s destiny’s big fat joke to humankind,” you replied. “It’s when it gives you something really good you refuse to believe it’s real or you deserve it. But no matter how far the chances will take you, it will always find you.”

“I hope that’s what we’re experiencing right now,” he tells you before scooching closer to where you sat.

“What if it’s not?”

“It wouldn’t change anything.” He smiles softly at you, face inching closer to yours. “Having to experience being this close to you, someone that I liked for years now—it’s something I would never get tired of bragging about to my members. And if it is and life goes well for the both of us, I’ll tell the story of the luckiest man alive whose chance presented itself in front of him to be in love with the most beautiful woman in the world. I’ll tell it as a bedtime story to our kids.”

“I don’t want this to end, Hee,” you hummed quietly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not losing me,” he smiles at you as he rests his forehead against yours. “Or I’m going to lose my mind.”

Tears began falling from your eyes again before you could even stop yourself. You’ve already cried so many times today, you don’t even know where it’s coming from at this point. You thought by now, you’ve already cried every tear you had in your system but it doesn’t stop coming.

This time, Heesueng couldn’t help but feel his heart clench at the sight of you being so anxious and broken over the thought of the both of them having to separate. He’s been having a hard time trying to brush it off because he didn’t want to show you how much it affected him out of fear that it would bear more weight on you. Jungwon has been trying to listen to him these past few nights, trying to comfort him that everything will eventually fall into place—Yeonjun and Yunjin made it work. He believes that you and him could work just as well.

“What can I do to help you, jagiya?” he asked, running his knuckle softly across your face to wipe down the tears that stained your cheeks already.

“Kiss me.”

You don’t know why you said it. You don’t even know what made you say it, but it felt right to ask him that. Somehow, you felt like being that close to him would make you feel comfortable.

And Heeseung did not hesitate. The kiss was hot and heavy… and wet and sloppy. Your stomach began to tingle a bit, then even with the both of you sitting down, your knees felt like wobbling jelly. His open mouth, moving against yours made you weak. You were melting at the hot touch of the palm of his hands snaking its way from your cheek to the back of your head to pull you closer to him as if it was still humanly possible. It’s like you were floating and you don’t know when you started to feel weightless because moments ago, you felt like the weight of the world was weighing down on you. So weightless, you didn’t even notice Heeseung moved you to sit on his lap already.

“I’m so in love with you, jagiya,” he says, as soon as you pull away to breathe. “I’m so in love with you I can’t even explain how it feels to hold back.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you replied, pushing his chin up with your index finger to make him look up at you. “I don’t want you to hold back, Hee. Even just for tonight.”

“Jagiya,” he breathes heavily, physically restraining himself from bringing it any further but also failing as he chases your lips every time he feels like you are moving away. “You know it’s not that easy.”

“Please,” You pleaded, hands moving to reach for his hand before guiding it under your shirt and over the soft mound on your chest. He looked surprised at first that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. God, he couldn’t help but feel himself get hard underneath you—he was almost embarrassed but you seemed to not mind, pressing yourself harder on him.

“Are you sure you want this, jagi?” he asks one more time.

You nod.

“I need to hear you say it, jagi,” he tells you, his free hand moving to your face to move the stray hair on your face. “Say it to me, please?”

“Ruin me,” you tell him firmly, as you rest your forehead against him. “For everyone. I want you to make sure I’ll never be able to love anyone else but you.”

Something snapped inside of Heeseung. He cannot believe he’s hearing all these right now but he’s not complaining. He doesn’t have it in him—he’s just a man. Someone craving for closeness with someone he never thought he’d even come close with.

He doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do right now, but it didn’t bother him one bit. You could be gone tomorrow and he’ll never get the chance to be this close to anyone. You could be just a mere memory to him before he notices it—would it be so bad to keep you this sweet in his memory?

“I love you, Y/N.” He says before pressing a passionate kiss on yours once again.

For once, you let yourself go. You let the feeling consume you—the lust and love. You let it hug you like it never has before.

And if this is destiny’s sense of humor playing its trick on you. The joke is on them. Because you were not known to give up. You never wanted someone as much as you wanted Heeseung and you were going to have him—even if it meant looking at sasaengs dead in the eye while they wished for your untimely death.

—

a/n:

I got carried away???? Omg???? It literally started when I saw a tiktok abt We Got Married when Joy and Sungjae were there and watched it and got inspired and the next thing I knew I was pushing to 40 pages into my google docs file 😃 Anyway!!! I have been very absent recently… due to a lot of causes (lol i got into another situationship and it didn’t end well again and i took it to heart even if it was my fault—also i’m in my last year of college I'm literally 😃😃 even finding time to rest is hard)

Anyway~ I hope you guys liked this one!!! Tell what you think here and if you want me to make blurbs from this fic in the future.

Thank you for making it this far in the story hehe

xo, anya ୨୧