Midnight Kiss

Midnight Kiss

pairing: non-idol!Wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: angst / smut (minors GET BACK 🤺) / non-idol au

words: 10.1k (whoopsie)

rating: strictly 18+, stay in school kids

warnings: so much angst, heavy alcohol consumption, cursing, brief nosebleed, break-up and commitment issues, fem-bodied reader, more angst, making out, hair pulling, choking, wonwoo is hung, rough sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, pet names (baby), maybe a sprinkle of masochism idk, edging and orgasm denial, dom wonwoo, sub reader, dry humping, unprotected sex, spanking (just one, to be exact), overstimulation, creampie, brief fainting, aftercare, some more angst and a little bit of fluff to top it off, sorry if I forgot anything!

a/n: HAPPYYYYYYY NEW YEARS!!!!! here's to hoping 2023 is better than 2022 lol. I'm finally back to writing for seventeen, it's been wayyyy too long. I hope everyone enjoys reading, please leave a like and/or reblog if you do!

Sometimes you wonder what would have happened if you’d never gotten into that taxi.

What if it hadn’t been raining? Or the cab driver had been different—one who had the path across the city memorized, rather than getting lost after making a wrong turn onto 32nd street? After clambering onto the slick sidewalk, still a little drunk and wishing you weren’t wearing heels, what if you had turned right to head toward Main instead of left toward Adams? What if you had remembered to charge your phone before going out with friends so it wouldn’t have died in the middle of the night? If you had chosen a different bar in your search for a payphone, would you still have met him?

All these questions were pointless, of course. Because you had met him that night, a night which you would later recognize had irrevocably changed your life.

You’d stumbled into the bar at 2:57 AM—you only remembered because it was three minutes before closing and the bartender had given you the look. The I-wish-you-were-never-born look. You hadn’t minded, not really. Even now, you remembered the warm brown color of his eyes as he blankly stared down at you, apparently confused by your half-drunken request to use the store’s phone.

We don’t have one, he’d said.

How do you not have a phone?

The bartender had raised an eyebrow, and it was around this moment you realized he was very, very tall. Almost comically so. Well, I have a phone. You just can’t use it.

Why not?

Because I said so.

You recalled the acute urge to strangle this tall, rude bartender. If you don’t let me borrow your phone I’m going to order one of every single drink on the menu, you’d declared.

The stranger just stared. He’d stared at you like he could see directly through your skin and into your soul, and though you’d itched with the urge to blink, you refused to do so first. A long moment passed, during which your drunken mind was struck by the perfect idea to persuade him.

I’ll fuck you for it.

He’d released a loud, startled laugh, sounding almost as if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. The bartender had laughed and laughed, unable to stop unless he was turned completely away from you. In all honesty, it had hurt your pride.

Once the stranger had mastered himself, he reached into the pocket of his apron and fished out a small, rectangular object. His cellphone, mercifully, and damn you if the sight didn’t make your shoulders slump with relief.

He’d reached a muscular arm across the bar to hand it to you, his shoulders still shaking with barely-restrained laughter. Even shivering with the cold rain in your hair and a hangover already pounding at your temples, you had offered him a genuine, warm smile.

The bartender had smiled back, for the first time looking like he didn’t want to squash you under his shoe.

I’m Wonwoo.

~~~

Three years had passed since the night you first met Jeon Wonwoo.

You couldn’t recall every moment of those years with perfect clarity, but you always remembered that first night. He had let you use his personal cellphone so you could call your roommate for a ride, though it had turned out to be pointless when he didn’t answer. Since you were effectively stranded, you’d sat at the bar alone while Wonwoo closed up, asking him a plethora of questions that he sometimes answered, sometimes didn’t. After that initial smile he’d gone back to treating your presence like a thorn in his side, but he never kicked you out. And much like your abrupt realization that he was tall, you realized sometime around then that Wonwoo was intimidatingly handsome.

When he offered you a ride home himself, you were mostly sober and still very much stranded. It surprised you when he asked his own round of questions during the drive to your apartment, but what surprised you more was that you were honest in your answers. It wasn’t particularly in your nature to open up to a stranger, but what did it matter when he would find out where you lived, anyway?

Wonwoo had parallel parked in front of your apartment building and you’d scribbled your phone number on a napkin before he could argue otherwise. That was also out of character for you, but you had known then that Wonwoo was different. Someone worth getting to know.

You’d been right.

It started as a not-quite friendship. You would have, on a good day, referred to Wonwoo as an acquaintance, only really spending time with him when you needed a ride home after a night out partying. It was the only excuse you could think of to justify seeking him out, especially when he never used the phone number you’d impulsively left for him. He never seemed particularly bothered when you showed up at the bar, though, and he always gave you a ride home.

Then, after about six months of this, you had gotten a text message from an unknown number:

Come out. We’re going to dinner.

Wonwoo’s car had been in its usual spot outside your apartment building, a sight which nearly made your heart fall out of your ass. But you’d done it. You’d gone to dinner with Jeon Wonwoo.

And it was fun. Ridiculously, unexpectedly fun. He was carefree and confident in a way you deeply admired, never seeming to be bothered by anyone or anything. He’d asked you to be his girlfriend two weeks after your first date and you had said yes without a second thought.

You’d loved him. Wonwoo kept the napkin with your hastily scrawled phone number on it stuck to his fridge. He laughed with you and cried with you and kissed you until your lips were swollen and bruised. You frequently wondered what would have happened if you’d gotten in a different cab that first night, then decided it didn’t matter. He made love to you at every available opportunity and worshipped you like you were the sun personified. He was your entire world.

Until six months ago.

You hadn’t heard from him. Not for a while now. As far as you knew, he’d skipped town. You supposed that was normal considering the way you’d blown him off. The second you had seen him sitting on that park bench, fidgeting anxiously with that goddamned velvet ring box in his hand—

Nope. Nope nope nope.

Wonwoo had loved you. Maybe as much as you’d loved him. Enough to ask you to marry him.

But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Regardless, you still loved Jeon Wonwoo almost as much as he hated you.

~~~

You woke up on New Year’s Eve with a nosebleed. Never a good way to start your day but not exactly something that could be helped. You just hoped it wasn’t a bad omen. You stared at your bleary-eyed reflection in the mirror as you stemmed the bleeding and cleaned your face.

Not even ten seconds had passed before someone banged on your bedroom door so hard it rattled in its frame. You rolled your eyes as you crossed your room and yanked it open, still holding a tissue to your nose.

“Mingyu, you realize that I will still answer the door if you knock normally.”

The origin of the incessant banging, your roommate Mingyu, gifted you with a shit-eating grin.

“I was making sure you were up. You don’t pay me to let you sleep until noon.”

“I don’t pay you at all.”

“Still. What happened to your face?”

You shrugged. “Who knows. I just woke up and my nose was bleeding.”

“That’s got to be a bad omen or something.”

You socked him on the shoulder and strode further into your room, catching sight of the sparkly dress hanging off your closet door. “Are you sure this is appropriate for tonight? They’re predicting snow.”

“Are you kidding?” Mingyu plopped onto your bed and punched your pillow until it was an acceptable shape for him to lean on. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party, I think it’s perfect. Maybe you can pick up a hot date or something.”

The last part of his statement was pointed, you both knew it. You shot him a dubious glare and sat next to him on the bed, throwing away your bloody tissue as you did.

“I told you I don’t care about dating right now.”

“I’m not talking about dating. What would be so bad about a hookup?”

You grimaced. “Not interested in that, either.”

Mingyu groaned. You didn’t hold it against him, his attempts to push you back out into the dating pool. He was obviously worried about you, though you hadn’t told him exactly what had gone down with Wonwoo all those months ago. And though he tried to hide it, you knew Mingyu missed Wonwoo just as much as you did. Those two had been partners in crime, once upon a time, but you’d inadvertently ruined that, too.

“I’m not letting you flake out on going with me, you know,” Mingyu said.

You had no intention of doing so. You’d been a bad enough friend to your roommate during the months you’d spent moping in Wonwoo’s absence—ditching your so-called “date” to Chan’s New Year’s party wasn’t an option. Especially when he had stuck by your side through everything.

Mingyu had been your randomly-assigned roommate in college. There had been some glitch in your University’s housing system, hence why you’d wound up with a male roommate, but you didn’t mind. The dorm was at full capacity, anyway, so it wasn’t like you had the option to move.

You weren’t sure when Mingyu became your best friend, though he considered you his after the time you kicked out your blind date for eating Mingyu’s emergency stash of Hot Cheetos. You had been inseparable ever since, opting to live together even after college graduation.

You realized you had never responded to Mingyu’s statement and cleared your throat. “Of course I’m going with you. No one throws parties like Chan.”

Mingyu snorted. “Hopefully no one winds up passed out in the pool this year.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”

Chan threw a New Year’s party every year. In college there had always been a few hundred people there throughout the night, though in your adulthood that group had shrunk to a few dozen. But regardless of the size of the party, something ridiculous always happened. A few years ago Soonyoung had drunkenly fainted into the pool after a particularly cutthroat game of strip poker. Last year Wonwoo had sprained his wrist when he decided it was a good idea to jump onto the trampoline from the second-story veranda.

It was the first New Year’s in two years you wouldn’t spend with him. Your heart squeezed at the thought.

As if he could read your mind, Mingyu offered casually, “I’ll kiss you at midnight, if you want.”

You wrinkled your nose. “No thanks, hotshot.”

“Hey now,” he raised his palms defensively, “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“I know. Thank you.” You meant it. Mingyu was arguably the one person in the world you knew would have your back no matter what.

He groaned as he stood and strode across your room. “Whatever. You only wish you could get some of this.” Mingyu hesitated as he started to close your bedroom door behind him, poking his head through the crack between the door and frame. “Definitely wear that dress. It makes your ass look great.”

He slammed the door shut before you could find something to throw at him.

~~~

            When you got to Chan’s house in the suburbs it was a little past 9:30. Mingyu parked the car on the street, one of many other vehicles here for the same reason you were. You adjusted your dress around your hips as you stepped onto the curb.

It really was pretty. The material was a deep, shimmering gold that hugged your curves in all the right places, scooping low across your back with the skirt stopping just above midthigh. It wasn’t particularly practical for the cold weather but you had faith it would be warm enough inside.

Mingyu bounded up the front steps with the grace of a deer learning to walk, drawing an unbidden smile from you. By the time you reached his side he was banging repeatedly on the front door, the sound nearly drowned out by the chatter of the drunk crowd on the other side.

Your joked, “Maybe no one’s home,” was immediately disregarded when Chan wrenched open the door. Deafening music and party noise filled your ears like a warm wave the second the barrier was removed. Chan’s face was splashed with rosy color, his eyes a little glassy as he grinned. Most definitely drunk, probably had been for a while.

“You made it, thank god,” Chan grabbed yours and Mingyu’s elbows and yanked you inside the house.

“Hell yeah, man, I wasn’t going to miss this.” Mingyu and Chan fist-bumped, laughing in that ridiculous way they only did with each other. You closed the front door behind you as Chan dragged Mingyu off into the crowd, no doubt to ply him with alcohol. You grinned to yourself. Mingyu was so hard-working all the time, he deserved to have fun more than just about anyone.

You didn’t mind that you were left alone. You had been to dozens of parties like this in the past, some of which made the scene before you look tame. It helped, of course, that you already knew almost everyone here. People at Chan’s parties tended to run in the same circles and there were very seldom new additions to the guest list.

You pushed your way towards the kitchen, hunting for alcohol. You waved hello to your friends as you passed them, your warm smile so broad you almost convinced yourself of its authenticity. Just because you were moping didn’t mean anyone else had to share in your post-breakup blues.

Minghao waved at you from beneath the red-haired girl sitting in his lap, his face visibly softening when he saw you. He had been your lab partner in o-chem junior year of college—there were many fond memories of almost setting things on fire between the two of you. Despite your affection for your friend, you pretended not to see his hand beckoning to sit in the living room with him. You needed a shot, fast.

Soonyoung and Jun were having some manner of odd dance-off in the dining room, a sight which made you giggle. Seungcheol was pressing some girl firmly against the wall, kissing her with such passion it seemed as though he wished to swallow her whole. You looked away from that as fast as humanly possible.

By the time you reached the kitchen, Mingyu had a line of four empty shot glasses in front of him and was working on a fifth. The small crowd which had gathered to cheer him on was too distracted to notice when you swiped a bottle of tequila off the counter and took several deep swigs. The burn was glorious as it went down, warming your chest and fingers and toes simultaneously. It was exactly what you needed.

You wiped a trickle of alcohol off your chin with the back of your hand at the same moment Mingyu clapped you on the back.

“Drinking your sorrows?” He shouted over the music. His face was already tinged pink, his smile too wide and a little blurry. Or maybe that was just you.

“Always,” you laughed. You passed Mingyu the tequila bottle as Joshua offered you a glass of whiskey, a single pink feather from the boa around his neck floating in it. You took it anyway.

You reveled in the noise and chaos around you for what could have been minutes or hours. You weren’t much for partying nowadays, but it was nearly impossible not to have fun at one thrown by Chan. It was somehow already 10:45 and people were still showing up.

You kept to the kitchen most of the time, occasionally flitting into the living or dining rooms when you felt motivated to do so. Seokmin had produced a karaoke machine from somewhere and was shouting into the mic with Joshua, his feather boa now around both of their necks.

You took another shot—you had lost count of how many you’d taken, though it was enough to not taste the alcohol as it went down—and spun around, intent to join in on the karaoke. You’d had Careless Whisper stuck in your head for the better part of an hour, anyway. You strode for the doorway that led to the living room, your smile wide and feeling more genuine than it had in weeks—

You froze.

No.

No no no

You cursed the alcohol clouding your mind as you stared at Wonwoo, standing in the center of the living room with a red solo cup in his hand. Even if you hoped he hadn’t seen you, it was already too late. He was staring directly at you, his jaw clenched hard.

Seeing him again like this, when you couldn’t prepare yourself for it, took your goddamn breath away. His hair was longer now, curling into the collar of his shirt. He was as ridiculously tall and handsome as ever, though your memory of him did not do him justice. Wonwoo was beautiful in every sense of the word.

The lights and music dimmed as time slowed. Your vision darkened until all you could see was Wonwoo’s face. A thousand emotions flashed through his eyes, passing too quickly for your drunken mind to focus on one.

Your breaths turned shallow. Panicky. You could only see the image of that ring box in his hands, stuck behind your eyelids like some sick still from a movie.

You did the smartest thing you could think of in the moment.

You turned and ran.

Mingyu was nowhere to be found, his car keys with him, though both of you were certainly too drunk to drive his car anyway. You hardly felt the cold pricking your bare legs and arms as you tore open the front door and shot through it. If anything, the sensation was a welcome one to help clear your mind.

You willed the alcohol to process through your body faster. The shock of seeing Wonwoo already had you half-sober, but your movements were still jerky and uncoordinated as you stumbled onto the sidewalk.

A loud gasp tumbled from your lips when a strong hand grasped your elbow. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. His hand was distractingly warm as he yanked you around to face him, forcing you to stop.

You stared up at Wonwoo, petrified. He glared down at you, his gaze setting your entire body alight.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He no doubt tried to sound cold, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his voice that ruined it. A painful twinge sparked in your chest at the sound of his voice. You’d somehow forgotten the magnitude of his presence in your time apart. The tone which had once whispered sweet praises in your ear and professed his love for you was nowhere to be found now.

“Uhm… home?”

“You’re drunk.”

Despite your panic, you grinned. “Astute observation.”

Wonwoo released your elbow like you’d burned him. You swayed, abruptly dizzy as you mourned the loss of contact. “Go back in the house,” he bit out. “You’re too drunk to walk home and it’s freezing outside.”

You stared for a moment, at a loss for words. You finally settled on, “I’m sorry. If I’d known you’d be here I wouldn’t have come.”

Wonwoo’s gaze darkened. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why wouldn’t you have come?”

It seemed so obvious to you. This was no longer a world where you and Wonwoo fit in the same room. Rather than answer his question, you took a wary step back.

“I should go home.”

“Absolutely not.” Wonwoo’s tone was firm. A bolt of indignation speared through you at his assumption you would still listen to anything he said. He seemed to notice the rebellion in your eyes because he insisted slowly, “You’re obviously drunk. Even if it wasn’t freezing outside you’re in no condition to walk yourself home.”

He was right, though you had no intention of telling him so. “Mingyu is waiting for me at the convenience store down the street,” you lied.

Wonwoo crossed his muscled arms over his chest, a slight smile quirking his lips. God, you’d forgotten how big he was. “Mingyu is playing spin the bottle in the living room with the others. If I’m not mistaken, he was trying to bargain his way out of kissing Jeonghan when I left.”

You just stared. What could you possibly say to that? He obviously knew you were lying.

Wonwoo sighed abruptly, his arms falling back to his sides in a fake show of nonchalance. You would have believed it if not for his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his hips. “Just go back to the party, okay? If you’re that uncomfortable with seeing me then I’ll leave.”

He turned to walk back towards the house and you surged forward before you could stop yourself. Your brain was still fogged with alcohol, but you were all too aware of your hand clasped around his forearm to stop him.

Wonwoo’s nostrils flared as he looked down at your point of contact, almost like he couldn’t believe you were willingly touching him. Or maybe he was disgusted by it, you couldn’t really tell.

“You don’t have to leave,” you insisted quickly, not completely sure why you bothered. “I’ll go. I’ll just call an Uber or something.” You offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. Perhaps it was the drunkenness still obvious on your face, but Wonwoo didn’t seem to believe you in the slightest.

It was at that moment the sky chose to release a very poorly-timed clap of thunder, the sound close enough to make your bones sing. You groaned inwardly. Thunder during a snowstorm was rare enough on its own—your nosebleed this morning had definitely been a bad omen.

Wonwoo’s face shuttered, suddenly resolute in whatever silent choice he’d made in his head. “That’s it.” He used the grip you still had on his arm to tug you back towards Chan’s house. “If you’re so dead-set on leaving, I’m driving you home.”

Panic closed your throat, tight and fast. “No.”

Something akin to hurt flashed across Wonwoo’s face. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not going to let you corner me in the car for some sort of stupid interrogation.”

Wonwoo wrenched his arm from your grasp quickly enough that you stumbled. He spun to face you, a muscle feathering erratically in his jaw. “Have you stopped to think that maybe I just want to drive you home because it’s cold and about to snow and you’re wearing fucking lingerie as clothing?”

That brought you up short. Fury crackled in Wonwoo’s eyes, the heat of it matched only by the fire in your own.

“Feeling possessive, are we?” You spat. “You have no right—”

“I guess I don’t, do I? You decided that all on your own.” Wonwoo’s words had lost some of their bite. You stared at him, your rapidly-sobering mind reeling as you tried to decipher his expression.

Sadness. That was sadness in his eyes. The fact that you were the cause of it made your heart swoop into your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo.” You hadn’t meant to say the words, but there they were. His jaw flexed again at the sound of his name on your lips. “You… you deserve better than me. You always did.”

He shook his head before you’d even finished speaking. “No, I don’t.”

This time, when he took hold of your wrist to lead you back to Chan’s house, his touch was gentle. Somehow, it was a thousand times worse than the bruising grip he’d had on you earlier.

You walked together in careful silence, each of you too afraid to shatter the illusion of peace which had temporarily settled between you. One wrong move, wrong look, risked sending you into a screaming match.

You were only half surprised when Wonwoo strode past the walkway that led to Chan’s house, instead making for his car parked down the street. It was directly behind Mingyu’s. Your eyes flickered to the back of Wonwoo’s head where he walked a step in front of you. That would mean… he knew you were here when he arrived. He’d known you were inside and still chose to go in.

“I need to tell Mingyu that I’m leaving. He’ll throw a hissy-fit if—”

“I already did.” Wonwoo opened the passenger door for you, pointedly looking anywhere other than your face as you lowered yourself into the car. “I texted him the second you ran.”

Ran. Yeah, that little episode was going to be embarrassing tomorrow.

Wonwoo’s car smelled exactly as you remembered it. Woody and masculine, an undercurrent of your perfume staining the leather seats, even after all these months. Yet another sensory detail to break your heart.

You didn’t have to direct him back to your apartment building. He drove in silence, his fingers clenched so hard around the wheel his knuckles paled under the strain. You very deliberately ignored the way his forearms flexed as he drove, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

It was all too easy to pretend it was six months ago. The dark car, the scent of Wonwoo invading your nostrils, the careful silence; if you tried hard enough, you could convince yourself nothing had happened. It was just like old times—you had spent the night bothering Wonwoo at the bar, now he was driving you home and sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye. There were no painful emotions save the secret yearning for one another neither of you wanted to express.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as Wonwoo pulled the car to a stop in front of your building. He leaned forward in his seat so he could peer through the windshield, his hands still clasped on the wheel.

“It looks the same,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “I don’t know why I expected it to be different.”

You swallowed thickly. “Do you… want to come up?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I shouldn’t. I thought seeing you would help, but… fuck, I don’t know.” Wonwoo rubbed a hand over his jaw and glanced over at you, a strange glint of amusement in his eyes. “I was hoping that you were doing poorly, you know.”

“You were?”

“I thought it would make me feel better, to see you suffering. Turns out that backfired.”

You felt like a broken record, your only available words coming in the form of questions. “Why?”

“Because you aren’t suffering. You aren’t sick or ugly or depressed. You’re just…” You felt the stricken expression on your face without having to see it. “You’re still as beautiful as the day you left me.”

You closed your eyes. You were no longer tipsy enough to feel numb and with each passing second you questioned how you had managed to find yourself in this situation.

“Come up, Wonwoo. We can talk.”

He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking. “Just go. Please.” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, his knuckles a glaring white. “I’ll let Mingyu know you got home safely.”

Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. Your muscles locked, your hands folded tightly in your lap. Perhaps you subconsciously wished to prolong this stolen moment with Wonwoo as long as you could.

“If there were anything I could say to take your pain away, I would.” You could feel the scalding heat of Wonwoo’s gaze on your face without looking at him. “Just know that I’m sorry. I think I will be for the rest of my life.”

“Did you even have a reason?” His tone was abruptly harsher than before and you flinched. “We were doing fine. Better than fine, I thought. We had breakfast like normal, you went to work like normal, we were supposed to meet in the park for lunch, then–nothing. I got home and all your stuff was gone.”

Hearing it aloud like that, especially from his perspective… guilt gripped your throat like a vise. What you’d said a moment ago was all too true: there was no way to explain your commitment issues in a way that would make him feel better.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated weakly. There was a distant throbbing in your temples, a sure sign of your approaching hangover. You mercifully regained control of your muscles and shouldered the door open, frigid winter air prickling your bare skin. The scent of snow hung heavy in the air.

You had barely reached your full height on the curb when the sound of Wonwoo’s door opening and slamming nearly made you jump out of your skin. For what had to be the third time tonight, he grabbed your elbow and spun you around to face him. You tried not to cower at the way he towered over you, his expression nothing short of seething.

“Tell me why,” he hissed, his tone half pleading and half a curse. You opened and closed your mouth several times, unable to speak. What did he expect you to say? You could hardly think around the proximity of his face to yours—it had been over six months since the last time you were within kissing distance of Wonwoo. Now, the possibility was so dizzying you were struck dumb.

You stared up at him, wide-eyed. His face was a conundrum of sharp angles and delicate features, made harsher by the passion written across it. Maybe you were still a little drunk, because you lifted a hand to drift your fingertips across his cheekbone before you could stop yourself. You hadn’t realized how much you missed his glasses until this moment.

Almost like it was on instinct, Wonwoo’s eyes fluttered closed at your touch. His skin was fire-hot beneath the pads of your fingers. You were certain the two of you would look ridiculous to any random passerby but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At some point one of his broad arms had encircled your waist, his forearm trapping you to his chest as you timidly explored his features.

Heaven. Touching Wonwoo was nothing short of heaven. And by some miracle, despite his fury with you, his hurt, he was allowing you to continue.

“I saw the ring,” you whispered, hardly more than a breath of air moving.

Wonwoo’s eyes snapped open. “What did you say?”

You swallowed. “That day at the park. I was walking up from behind you and… I saw the box in your hands.” His face further paled with each word that left your mouth. “You looked terrified and I… I couldn’t let you down like that.”

Wonwoo’s fingers curled around your wrist and pulled your hand away from his face, though he didn’t release you. And to your intense surprise, he began to laugh. It was a sharp sound, like he didn’t really find it funny at all, but you had no time to process the sound before Wonwoo crushed his lips to yours.

For a moment, you were simply frozen. Wonwoo’s mouth was starkly warm compared to the winter air around you, the feel of it as familiar to you as your own. Snowflakes had just begun to drift in the air around you, getting caught in his dark hair and eyelashes before turning to slush.

His hands moved so they gripped your hip bones, pulling you further into his heat. His jeans scratched against your upper thighs, and it was that sensation that made you realize you were kissing Wonwoo back. Your lips moved demandingly against his, your mouths and teeth and tongues dancing together. He kissed you like you were the cure he’d been searching for, you returning the fervor as if he were the very air you breathed.

Completely by accident, a whimper escaped your throat. The sound was tight and breathless, one you hadn’t made for anyone or anything since Wonwoo. He groaned low in his chest and it sent warmth pooling straight to your core.

You raked your cold fingers through his hair at the base of his neck. You enjoyed its length far more than you thought you would—like this, it was long enough to tug at the root and draw more pretty moans from him. You clenched around nothing each time he did so, your mind laser-focused on the hard length you felt pressing insistently into your lower stomach. It was another thing you’d failed to recall about Wonwoo—after six months of his absence, you severely doubted he would fit. It had taken months to adjust you to his size the first time.

Wonwoo bit down on your lower lip and roughly sucked, forcing another moan from you. It was intoxicating, kissing him. His large hands groped your ass, your lower back, your ribcage; no matter where he touched you, it was never enough for him. He kissed you with the desperation of a man starved.

Which was why when he abruptly pulled away, his lips kiss-bitten and expression wild, you unabashedly whined. Wonwoo stared down at you, his chest heaving. His hair was spiked in strange directions where you had run your hands through it, the top three buttons of his shirt somehow undone.

He averted his eyes at the same moment you did. You feared one wrong look would send you both back into the frenzy and a snowy sidewalk was not the place for it. Wonwoo met your eyes again, some unspoken words contained within them that you couldn’t begin to decipher. He looked like he wanted to throttle you as much as he wanted to kiss you again and, if you were being completely honest, you weren’t sure which you’d prefer.

Without another word, Wonwoo spun on his heel and marched back to the other side of his car. You silently begged him to hesitate—to turn back and pounce on you again. The part of your brain crazed by lust wanted him to take his anger out on your body more than you wanted to breathe.

He did no such thing. Wonwoo didn’t spare you another glance before he slammed the driver’s side door shut behind him and sped off, the car almost instantly consumed by exhaust and snowfall.

Later, you would not be able to recall how long you stood there, frozen on the sidewalk. You stared after him, your breaths shallow, until painful chills rose on your skin and your teeth began to chatter.

What the hell had you done?

~~~

You couldn’t sleep.

You tossed and turned for hours, met with the image of Wonwoo kissing you every time you dared close your eyes. The taste of him still lingered in your mouth, the feel of his skin tingling on the tips of your fingers. The new year came and went, and you realized that Wonwoo had wound up being your midnight kiss, after all.

It was close to 3:30 in the morning when you decided you couldn’t stand it anymore. Mingyu still wasn’t home—he likely wouldn’t be until after dawn, and you doubted you could take another second of the silence without him. You’d walked into your apartment alone and stone-cold sober, a fact which didn’t help with the empty ache in the center of your chest.

After finally managing to pull your feet free of the sidewalk, you hadn’t bothered to remove your party dress before you fell into bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable sleepwear in the world, but you’d been too dejected to mess with it.

You rolled out of bed, annoyance prickling the backs of your eyes. You knew you had no right to be frustrated, not after what you did to him, but you couldn’t understand how Wonwoo could just leave like that. The second he’d pulled away from you he looked as though he’d seen a ghost.

You left a living room lamp on for Mingyu and shoved your feet into a pair of tennis shoes, running your fingers through your hair by way of brushing it. You didn’t dare look at your reflection in the mirror as you shrugged on a coat—looking a bit unhinged was probably appropriate for what you were about to do, anyway.

The drive was quiet, only the sound of your car and the drifting snowflakes outside to keep you company. The roads were mercifully empty, for the most part, save a few stragglers making their way home after their own New Year’s Eve celebrations.

When you arrived at Wonwoo’s apartment, you sat in your car for what felt like an eternity, contemplating if you should risk going up or not. He probably wouldn’t be happy to see you—hell, you wouldn’t be happy to see you.

“Fuck it,” you whispered to yourself. You had to try. You’d regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t. The walk to Wonwoo’s front door was mechanical, your body running on pure muscle memory. An odd sort of nerves quickened your heartbeat as you stopped on the mat. He hadn’t gotten a new one since you left. You had bought his welcome mat as a joke a year and a half ago, an ugly monstrosity that read I’ll only answer for Girl Scouts that he insisted wasn’t funny.

You knocked twice and stepped back, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. You should just go home. He didn’t want to see you again, that much was obvious from the way he left you earlier. Yet for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to walk away.

You waited for long enough that you thought he wouldn’t open the door. Maybe he was asleep—the thought he wasn’t kept awake by the memory of kissing you the way you were sent embarrassment flooding your veins. You had just turned to leave when the door swung open, and all you could do was stare.

Wonwoo didn’t react to your presence, seemingly unsurprised to find you on his doorstep. His gaze was hard, faint shadows staining his undereyes behind his glasses. His hair stuck up straight on one side, a sure sign he had been tossing and turning the same way you had been. All the words that had been building in your throat during the drive here dissipated into nothing at the sight of him.

He wordlessly stepped aside to let you in and damn you if your expression didn’t crumple with relief. His scent enveloped you as you entered and your heart lurched. You stopped in the open kitchen and turned to face him, your arms still protectively crossed over your chest. He mirrored your stance, his gray sleep shirt pulled tight across his shoulders.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” you choked out at last. It wasn’t exactly a lie, you realized. You weren’t really sure why you had bothered to come here—the only thing you knew was that being in his absence felt akin to dying at the moment.

“You shouldn’t be,” he said flatly. The expression on his face was very carefully neutral, a sort of coldness that didn’t suit him at all.

Your heart sank. “I know. I’m sorry, I just… I’m so sorry.” You weren’t making any sense, but it didn’t really matter.

Wonwoo released a deep sigh and sank into a bar stool at his kitchen island. He massaged his jaw with a hand, his eyes flickering between your face and a point over your head.

“When you didn’t show up to the park, I thought the worst had happened.” His voice was tense and he hesitated. You held your breath while he collected his thoughts, trying your best to allow him room to think. “What if you had gotten into an accident? Or there was an emergency with Mingyu or your family and you couldn’t contact me? I had already started thinking about what my hobby would be in prison if someone had hurt you.” He smiled bitterly to himself.

“I got home and everything you had left here over the years was gone. I would’ve thought you were a dream if it weren’t for the smell of your damn perfume all over everything. Two weeks later I saw you walking downtown with Mingyu and Hao.” Your breath caught. You knew exactly which night he was referring to. Your friends had forced you out of the apartment when they tired of watching Dirty Dancing on repeat. “You looked… fine.” Wonwoo’s voice dripped with disbelief. “You laughed at something Minghao said and followed him into a bar. Why were you fine? How did you manage it so quickly?”

When you spoke, your voice was hoarse. “I didn’t. I was pretending, even tonight at the party.”

Wonwoo nodded distantly. “Me too. The second I saw Mingyu’s car I thought I was going to go insane. If you had brought someone else to Chan’s…” he cleared his throat. “I still can’t think about it. When I saw you inside I thought my heart would fall out of my ass.”

Despite yourself, you giggled. Wonwoo tossed a dirty look in your direction which you returned with a small smile. If only he knew.

“Anyway, I…” Wonwoo trailed off and reached into his pocket. Your heart ceased beating completely as he set a small velvet box on the counter between you. “Open it.” When you remained frozen, he urged softly, “Go on.”

After a moment of hesitation, you reached out. The crushed velvet was soft beneath your fingertips, warm from being in Wonwoo’s pocket for so long. You took a deep breath, held it, and at last opened the box.

Inside was a key.

You would have sworn in that moment the entire world came crashing down around you. The key was small and a burnished gold, Wonwoo’s apartment number engraved on the rectangular handle.

God, you were a fucking idiot.

Wonwoo cleared his throat. “Since you didn’t respond to any of my attempts to reach you, I couldn’t ask you what happened. I would have been able to explain myself to you.” He stood and approached you slowly, moving as if he wished not to frighten you. You only became aware your cheeks were glistening when Wonwoo took your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“I’m not ready to get married, baby. And I’d like to think I know you well enough by now to know you aren’t either.” Wonwoo took another deep breath, his eyes unreadable. “I was going to ask you to move in with me that day. I had no idea it would drive you to break up with me, though.”

Your teeth chattered, likely with nerves as much as the cold. You couldn’t believe what a fool you were. Even more than that, an ass.

Ever so slowly, Wonwoo kissed each corner of your lips, his hands still braced on your jaw. Gradually, beneath the heat of his touch, your jaw ceased its chattering. You remained perfectly still, not completely sure what you were supposed to do.

“Tell me,” he began lowly. “Are you really sorry?”

You nodded hastily. You wished there were a way to express it so that he would never doubt its truth. “I’ve never been so sorry in my life.”

“Do you even know how much you hurt me, baby?” Wonwoo breathed, his tongue ghosting over a tear that had escaped your eye before it could fall. A shudder worked through your body. “Mind if I return the favor?”

You froze. You had no idea what he meant, but you still didn’t move when Wonwoo’s lips pressed gently against yours. He kissed you softly, delicately, like you were something he would break if he wasn’t careful. If your kiss earlier had been fire, this was frost.

You kissed him back, allowing your arms to rest over his shoulders as you rose onto your toes for better access. Wonwoo watched you through hooded eyes as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and tasting as if he hadn’t done it a thousand times before.

He pried the key from your cold fingers and set it gently on the counter without removing his lips from yours. You hardly noticed. Though Wonwoo was moving at an excruciatingly slow pace, there was a heat building in your stomach that demanded your complete attention.

Each time you tried to kiss him more intensely or grind your hips against his, he drew away. It was infuriating, this game he played, and after several minutes you released a shameless whine into his mouth. Your hands drifted from his shoulders and down his chest until your fingers found the hem of his shirt. He shivered when your fingertips ghosted across the muscled strip of skin below his navel.

Enough playing.

Your lips curled into a smile against his at the same moment you palmed his impressive length through his pants, already half-hard. It snapped whatever internal leash he’d been holding on himself.

In one swift movement, Wonwoo grabbed your ass hard enough to bruise and yanked you off the ground. You gasped sharply, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he used one arm to sweep everything off the island behind you. He didn’t give you a chance to collect yourself before his lips crashed against yours again, far more demanding than before.

His tongue invaded your mouth with an urgency that drew short pants from your throat. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. You barely noticed when he ripped his glasses off and tossed them onto the counter beside you. His hands were everywhere. In your hair, on your face, your throat—he shoved his fingers beneath your coat and yanked it off your shoulders, nearly popping a button in the process.

He groaned, the sound a near growl, when he saw your dress beneath it. He pulled away to admire you and you gasped shallow breaths, the sudden access to oxygen making your head spin. His long fingers toyed with one of the straps, simultaneously undressing you with his eyes.

“This fucking thing,” he muttered roughly. “Who did you wear this slutty thing for?”

God, you were so wet you could feel your slick halfway down your thighs. If Wonwoo pulled the hem of your dress any higher he would see. You breathed at last, “You, baby. Only you.”

Wonwoo made an appreciative noise and allowed his mouth to drift over yours, his lips parted just enough to allow your tongue past them. He gave you no warning before his hand dove beneath your dress. His fingertips pushed against your entrance over your panties and you writhed, not caring how desperate you seemed.

He took his time, much to your dismay. His fingers trailed over your slit, flimsy lace still separating skin from skin, and down your inner thighs. Wonwoo released a shaky sigh when he discovered how drenched you were, your only sign that he was exerting an insane amount of self-control not to fuck you. His thumb pressed down briefly on your clit and you jolted at the bolt of heat that speared through you.

His other hand lifted to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as you squirmed. “God, I missed this,” he said into your mouth. “You think this pussy still remembers me?” You were so hyper-focused on his hand between your legs that you couldn’t manage to respond.

At last, his fingers nudged your panties to the side. Your body locked as his middle finger circled your soaked entrance once, then sank inside. You loosed a shuddering breath of relief at the sensation, your pussy tensing and unintentionally sucking his finger deeper. Wonwoo hissed with approval.

His eyes burned with lust as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, watching every micro-change in your expression through half-closed lids. You moaned readily for him, not only to motivate him to continue, but because after six months of celibacy your body felt like a live wire.

He smoothly inserted another finger with the first and you whimpered softly.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice so laden with desire he hardly sounded like himself. “You haven’t fucked anyone else, have you?”

You clasped the back of his neck in a hand, mostly to keep your shaking body from falling off the counter. “Never, no one else.”

Despite the show he was putting on for you, you felt Wonwoo’s body marginally relax at that.

Wonwoo moved his hand that was on your neck to your chest and forced your body down until you laid flat on the counter. His fingers increased their pace inside of you and curled, each thrust bumping your g-spot and drawing lewd moans from your throat.

He bent over you and tugged at the roots of your hair until you had no choice but to look at him. It was a monumental effort to keep your eyes open, especially when his thumb began moving over your clit in time with his fingers. “You will not cum, do you hear me?” He commanded softly. You clenched hard around his fingers. “Say it.”

“I won’t cum,” you gasped out. “I won’t cum, I swear it.”

Wonwoo’s answering smile made you whimper. “That’s my girl.”

He pulled his fingers out of you and shoved your dress up your body, barely giving you time to help him in getting it all the way off. You only half noticed the sound of lace tearing as he ripped your panties off you and, since your dress didn’t allow you to wear a bra, you laid on the counter completely bare to him in less than ten seconds flat.

Wonwoo pressed his hard length against your pussy, the roughness of his pants against your overheated skin making your eyes roll back into your head. His fingers curled around your throat and squeezed at the same moment he tapped your lower lip with the ones that had just been inside you. Your lips parted immediately and you fought the urge to gag when his fingers sank into your throat to the knuckle.

You sucked greedily, reveling in the deep flush that crept up Wonwoo’s throat and onto his cheeks at the sight. He was teetering on the edge of a cliff, you could tell. One wrong move and he would dive off of it.

You moaned softly as he sank to his knees and roughly tugged your hips further off the edge of the counter.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. “You’re going to take what I give you, do you understand?”

You knew better than to respond nonverbally. “Yes, sir.”

Wonwoo groaned deep in his throat and dragged his tongue up the inside of your thigh. He repeated the action on your other leg, eagerly cleaning any of your slick that remained there. You were quivering with tension, your body so tightly wound that you worried your muscles would snap.

When Wonwoo’s full lips at last closed around your clit you thought you would pass out. Your hand immediately shot into his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp as you wantonly moaned. He made expert work of you, his tongue licking several stripes up your slit and circling around your fluttering entrance.

You couldn’t even look at him for fear of cumming. The one time you did, you nearly plummeted off the edge. His eyes were closed, that same pretty blush staining his cheeks and climbing to his hairline. Wonwoo couldn’t stop moaning into you, the vibrations shooting up your spine and curling white-hot in your belly.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he cooed, his condescending tone completely at odds with his praise. “Even better than I remember.”

Your hips ground against his face, desperately seeking your orgasm even though he’d instructed you not to cum. Wonwoo plunged two of his fingers into your heat without easing you into it this time and you released a tight cry. The burn of the stretch was glorious; you had the thought that if he removed his fingers you might very well die. He scissored you opened roughly, any gentleness now out the window as lust clouded his brain completely.

You rocketed higher, your body shaking and pulsing completely out of your control. Wonwoo suckled your clit in tandem with his fingers pumping in and out of you, his pace so brutal that stars flickered behind your eyelids.

“Please, Wonwoo---pleasepleaseplease,” you babbled senselessly. “So good, baby, you—ah—I’m gonna cum—”

All at once, Wonwoo stopped.

You whined defiantly, your eyes snapping open as he pulled his fingers out of you. His hand grasped your jaw hard, forcing you to meet his gaze. He met your furious expression with a saccharine smile.

“Be a good girl, now,” he said sweetly. He licked every bit of you off his fingers, obviously enjoying the way you panted at the action. Wonwoo pressed his lips to yours and pulled away before you could deepen the kiss. “You don’t cum until I say you can.”

Your head fell back onto the counter, your denied orgasm still thrumming through your veins. You saw now what he intended to do. You had hurt him, so he would hurt you. Wonwoo planned to draw this out as long as he possibly could, no matter how you begged.

You snapped back to attention at the sensation of his clothed cock on your center. Your eyes fell to your point of contact, both of you completely enraptured by the sight as your slick stained his pants. When you risked looking at his face, Wonwoo was biting his lower lip so hard you were surprised he didn’t draw blood.

He thrust against you gently, ever-so-slowly forcing you back up the climb to your orgasm. Wonwoo braced his hands on either side of your waist, the veins in his forearms bulging as his arms shook.

“You look so damn pretty like this,” he muttered, almost to himself. His cock strained against his pants, practically begging to be freed as he ground against you. If he wasn’t inside of you soon you were very sure you’d go insane.

You rolled your hips on him and he’d finally reached his breaking point. Anticipation thrummed through you as he yanked his t-shirt over his head, at last revealing his perfect torso. Even after all this time, you couldn’t believe the way he was built. His skin glistened with a light sheet of sweat, only accentuating his muscled pecs and abs.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked hard while he shoved his pants down his legs. Your fingers tangled in his hair again at the sensation, offering him whispered praises while he left a smattering of love-bites across your chest.

Wonwoo paid no mind to his hard cock as it rested on your pelvic bone, instead kneading your breasts in his large hands and showing your other nipple the same attention as the first. His hips thrusted, pushing his dick through your folds, almost as if the action was unintentional. The friction was driving you wild and you moaned for him, your orgasm just barely out of reach.

He continued sucking your nipple as one of his hands snaked between you, his fingers resuming their earlier effort to prep you. The thought made your mouth go dry. Not for the first time tonight, you wondered how your body would respond to his impressive size.

Just the scissoring of his fingers made you squirm, adrenaline and endorphins making your vision go hazy. This time, his denial of your orgasm was likely unintentional as he extracted his fingers from you.

He lined the head of his cock up with your entrance, stopping once it had fitted itself inside just enough to stay there. Your tight ring of muscle pulsed, desperate to have him inside. Still, he didn’t move, just staring at you as if he worried you would vanish into thin air.

Then he began to push in. And in. And in. You both gritted your teeth, pain and pleasure seamlessly mixing as he attempted to fit his cock into you. The months without him had not done well for your ability to accommodate him.

Tears stung behind your eyes and you released a half moan, half cry. “It hurts, Wonwoo.” Your fingers clasped the back of his neck, pulling him down until his face was just over yours.

He grimaced but didn’t look away from your face, seemingly enamored by your pained, blissed out expression.

“You can take it.” He pressed a swift kiss to the corner of your eye. So slowly, Wonwoo continued to work himself into you, thrusting gently and barely gaining any depth on each pass. You panted into one another’s mouths, both of your lips parted as pleasure consumed your bodies. It hurt like fucking hell, but you would be damned if he tried to stop.

All at once your walls gave way.

Wonwoo sank into you to the hilt, your hips pressed flush against each other. You released simultaneous sighs of relief at the pressure that was immediately eased. His forehead fell against yours and he let out a shaky, quiet laugh, obviously pleased at the way you managed to take all of him.

“Atta girl,” he whispered and rewarded you with another kiss.

He began to thrust and immediately that tight ball began to form again in your stomach. You moaned senselessly, recklessly, begging him to go deeper and faster and not to stop all in the same breath.

Wonwoo grunted with each thrust, the head of his cock knocking into your g-spot over and over again.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned in your ear. You clenched around him and he released his first true moan of the night. He had to be careful—the tight, wet heat of you had driven him to the edge of orgasm so fast he genuinely feared he would cum before you. It was obvious to you that he wouldn’t last long; his gaze was laser-focused on the spot he drove into you, that same muscle in his jaw spasming repeatedly.

“Wonwoo, please—” you raked your fingernails across his shoulders as you whined, if only as a way to ground yourself. “I want to cum on your cock, please let me—”

“Desperate, baby?” Whatever tone he’d tried to achieve in his taunt was lost by the pleasure laced through his voice. He increased his pace, thrusting into you hard enough that he pushed you further onto the counter. Wonwoo grabbed your ankles and threw your legs on his shoulders—he somehow reached even deeper in this position, deep enough you thought you might be split in half—

Your high began to crest out of nowhere—

Wonwoo pulled out.

You let out a terse cry, your walls fluttering around nothing as you mourned the loss of yet another orgasm.

“You fucking asshole—”

Wonwoo cut you off when he literally threw you over his shoulder and smacked your ass hard enough to sting. You protested the entire way to his bedroom, both pleased and a little concerned when you saw angry red lines where you’d scratched his back earlier.

He tossed you onto the bed and wasted no time positioning himself behind you. “When you cum—” he pulled you up by your throat so you were both on your knees, your back pressed tight to his chest “—I want you to land somewhere soft when you pass out.”

He entered you again in one smooth thrust, your walls now so drenched and plush that he sank in easily. Wonwoo thrust mercilessly, his pace brutal and hard and perfect. You ground your hips back into him, your hand rising to cover his where his fingers squeezed the sides of your throat with expert pressure. Your head felt light as a cloud, your vision swimming in and out of focus at the lack of oxygen.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder and his fingers found your clit, rubbing quick, precise circles onto the bundle of nerves. Your orgasm rose and rose and rose—surely you couldn’t last much longer.

Wonwoo pressed a fierce kiss to your brow and moaned in your ear as his thrusts became more erratic. “Cum,” he commanded.

And you were gone. Your orgasm streaked through you like a lightning bolt, your vision failing completely as your pussy clenched so hard that Wonwoo was forced to stop thrusting. He loosed a shuddering moan into your ear, raising goosebumps on your scalp, as he too found his release. He came inside of you in thick, hot spurts, his cum trapped inside your walls by the sheer girth of his cock.

Between your walls and his cock pulsing in response to the other, both of your orgasms were drawn out to the point of pain. Each time you began to come down, his dick twitched against your g-spot and started the process all over again. At some point, much to your embarrassment, you proved Wonwoo right when you slumped against him for several seconds, completely oblivious. He held you through it, whispering sweet praises in your ear and tracing gentle shapes over your bare abdomen.

At last, you both came back to earth. He pulled his softening cock out of you and you both whimpered at the sudden loss. For a long moment though, you just remained like that—both on your knees, his arms wrapped protectively around you as you caught your breath.

You turned your head and smiled softly into the kiss Wonwoo gave you. “Stay here,” he murmured. He was only gone for a moment, during which time you laid completely on the bed and basked in the post-orgasm bliss and the ache between your thighs. When he returned, it was with a warm wash-cloth and glass of water in hand.

He cleaned you up quietly as you drank the water he gave you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him even if you wanted to. You were so completely enamored by the sight of him—surely there was no man more perfect in the world than this one.

“I truly am sorry, Wonwoo. There’s no excuse—”

“I get it,” he said, cutting you off. You swallowed thickly. “I just wish you would have talked to me. We could have avoided this whole mess in the first place.”

“I know. I want—I mean, if you want… Fuck.” You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands, frustrated with your inability to speak. “That is, if you’ll still have me—”

Wonwoo cut you off again, this time with a harsh kiss to your lips that almost left you moaning and ready for him again. He stared intensely into your eyes, the warm brown color of his bathing you in comfort.

“You’re mine, baby,” he said confidently. “That didn’t change when you ran away and it certainly doesn’t change now.”

You nearly slumped with relief. You shared an abruptly shy smile with Wonwoo which he returned, one only meant for one another. He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand that read 5:15.

He shrugged lightly, the muscles in his powerful shoulders shifting. “I think some people would consider this a good time for breakfast. Hungry?” You nodded lightly, unable to rid yourself of the smile on your face. “I think I have pancake mix around here somewhere.”

You greedily watched his bare ass as Wonwoo pulled on a pair of sweatpants and left his bedroom. When he returned, it was with your phone and his gray t-shirt from earlier. You gratefully pulled on the latter and accepted the thousandth affectionate kiss Wonwoo had given you tonight.

He left again to cook breakfast, leaving you to smile at the empty doorway like a lovesick idiot. You shook your head to clear it as you turned on your phone, waiting for it to boot back up.

You knew it would take time and patience with Wonwoo. You had hurt him in a way that many wouldn’t forgive, yet somehow you were lucky enough that he understood and loved you anyway. You truly hoped that when the day came for Wonwoo to actually propose, you wouldn’t react like such a goddamn coward.

The smell of pancakes filled the apartment as your phone finally lit up, among the living once again. Immediately, a string of texts filled your screen, all of which were from Mingyu. They varied in subject and capitalization, but the most recent three made you laugh out loud.

U so got laid, didn’t u?

So much for ur nosebleed being a bad omen

Fuck u for getting laid when I didn’t

“What are you laughing at?” Wonwoo called from the kitchen. You sighed contentedly and rolled over, tossing your phone to the other side of the bed.

“Nothing,” you responded cheerily. “I guess Jeonghan is a bad kisser.”

thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this angsty wonwoo moment to start off your 2023, please leave a like or reblog to show support!

masterlist here :)

© minghaoyoudoin 2022 - all rights reserved. reposts/translations not allowed. I do not assume to know the personal lives of the idol(s) depicted in this fic, this is for entertainment purposes only!

10:20 am － lee chan (f)

you woke up feeling a heavy weight on your chest. with his arms wrapped securely around your waist, legs tangled with yours, you didn’t have to look down to know it was dino who had stolen your sleep. instead, you glanced towards the window, sighing in dismay at the brightness that peeked from behind the closed blinds. it was probably too late to go back to sleep anyways. 

somehow, in the middle of the night, you had gravitated from your side of the bed to the middle. now, with dino on top of you, your phone that was charging on the night stand was far from your reach, leaving you with no way to check the time. thankfully though, you had nowhere to be today. both you and dino had a day off from work, perhaps why he was sleeping more comfortably than usual. 

the deep breaths coming from his parted lips were warm against your skin. your fingers absentmindedly combed through his tousled hair, eliciting a relaxed hum from him. now that you were awake, your senses had come back to you. you were used to dino laying on top of you all the time, but your legs were starting to tingle under his weight because of the position you both were in. 

wiggling your toes, you attempted to resume some minuscule amount of circulation so that they wouldn’t go numb. you didn’t want to wake dino up. he needed his sleep. but just as the sensation in your legs began to come back, your stomach rumbled awkwardly, making you cringe. it wasn’t everyday that you woke up feeling hungry. but it seemed today, your stomach wanted food worse than it previously ever had. 

you prayed the sound hadn’t woken dino up. his ears were closer to your stomach than yours were. you held your breath, laying completely still for a minute. seeing as to how he didn’t budge, you could rest assured that he hadn’t been disturbed.

you enjoyed being held by him like this. it made you feel safe and protected. not to mention the way your heart felt all fuzzy too. you sighed and continued massaging his scalp, disregarding your desperate need for breakfast or a good stretch. 

dino smacked his lips together, raising his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck. his quiet breaths tickled your skin, making you squirm a bit. dino’s arms tightened around you, a smile tugging at his lips. “how long have you been up?” he mumbled, voice deep and groggy. snickering, you pressed your cheek to his forehead. “for a while now.” 

he snuggled into you, craving your warmth. “your stomach keeps grumbling. you should’ve fixed yourself some breakfast,” he shared, biting his lip to stifle a chuckle. “you’re so silly y/n.” 

heat rose to your face. well that sure was embarrassing. “i didn’t want to wake you up,” you defended, turning in his arms so that you were now facing him. he grinned at you, eyes barely open. “well i’m up now. so you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” 

© 0423s | tumblr

Darling: Joshua Hong

happy birthday joshua !! ❤️

word count: 791

song: Darl+ing by Seventeen

the sun came through the windows, shining right on your face. your alarm was going insane, making you groan as you reached to shut it off. when you grabbed your phone, you checked your notifcations and even noticed the date. "December 30" was on your lockscreen; joshua's birthday... and you completely forgot. with everything that was happening this month, you were forgetting everything.

you jumped out of bed, going down to the kitchen to see if joshua was still home, but thankfully he was gone. you walked to the counter, seeing a note left by joshua.

good morning darlling,

i left to go to the building for a view hours and i'll be home later for dinner. i love you. -shua

you sighed in relief; that gave you time to at least try to out something together. with that, you went back up to your room to get dressed. once you were dressed, you went back down to go to your car; heading to the nearest store first. you walked up and down the isles, trying to find that one thing that screamed joshua, but all you could find was a bottle of wine you both enjoyed. you didn't find anything that you knew joshua would love, even though every year he always said that having you in his life was the greatest present. you wanted to do more than just that.

after you checked out, you headed to the next store, still looking, finding a few things that joshua could use, but yet still you couldn't find that one present. you ran through present ideas in your head but they weren't enough. once you checked out, you just went home. shopping was getting stressful, and you already had a pretty good set up; even though you wanted more.

you put a bouquet of flowers on the kitchen island, with all the small presents around the base of the pot; the bottle of wine next to it. you looked at it over and over, unhappy with the outcome. you wanted to do so much more, but you had no idea what to do. you sat at the kitchen island feeling defeated. you sat in silence until your phone went off; a message from dokyeom asking about joshua's birthday. you told him you had nothing planned because you forgot. with that, dokyeom was on his way over.

within ten minutes, dokyeom was walking in. "there is no way that you forgot your own boyfriend's birthday." he said right when he walked in.

"yeah i know, but a lot has happened this month and my days just jumbled together." you explained, your shoulders dropping in disappointment.

"well i am here to help then." dokyeom said, with a smile on his face.

you and dokyeom got things ready, and prepared dinner for when joshua came home. you still felt like it wasn't enough. you always loved when the other members helped you out, but this time you felt guilty. you sat at the kitchen island once again, you head in your hands. "you seem upset." dokyeom said, sitting in the chair beside you.

"this is one of the few birthdays he's able to be at home for and i- it feels like it isn't enough." you explained.

"yn, joshua loves you beyond anything. even if you just breathed he would be so happy just because you're alive. i promise you that you have nothing to worry about. he is going to love this either way. now, i need to go pick him up anyway." dokyeom replied, going to the door.

with that he left, going to pick up joshua. you were still nervous even thought dokyeom was right.

you could hear the car pull into the driveway, and the garage door opening. the entry door to the kitchen opened, and joshua walked in, "i'm home." he called into house.

joshua walked to the kitchen, seeing you sit at the island, clearly stressed out. "yn? love, why do you look so stressed?" joshua asked, setting his phone down and going over to you.

"i completely forgot about your birthday, and i wasn't able to get anything ready for you." you explained, turning you head to look at him.

"yn, you don't have to worry about anything. you didn't even have to do anything today and i'd still appreciate that you are home to celebrate with me. i am so happy that you're here with me, that's all i could ask for." joshua told you.

"you always say that. i just want to- i don't know. you're so hard to shop for." you joked.

joshua sighed with a smil, "yn, i promise you, you don't have to worry about this." he told you one more time.

lavender haze ♡ vernon

You and your flatmate, Vernon, are moving to Switzerland for a year abroad at university, together. A short story of freedom, nights out, and most importantly, peanut butter cups.

pairing: vernon x female!reader (feat. mingyu) word count: 9.1k genre: romance, friends to lover, angst, college/uni AU, sorta unrequited love, slow-burn warnings: none (wow surprising for me!)

masterlist

Got the name from Taylor Swift's new album, Midnights—I've been looping Lavender Haze SO MUCH. And, I've been getting into SVT a lot recently and couldn't stop myself writing something about Vernon. I guess that's clear, since this is so long and self-indulgent. Who wouldn't, though, he's lovely. Enjoy!

Edit: I'm aware Vernon has a peanut allergy ;) I just added it in for irony's sake. Lol. Thought why not and stuck with it.

It’s funny how plain some things look.

The door to Vernon’s room is a single shade of blue. A strange colour, but every door in your flat is the same colour. The university architect must have loved blue.

As pretty as it is, it’s misleading, you think. You’re a firm believer that outward appearances usually should reflect the inside. In this case, though, it doesn’t apply. The boy inside this room is far from plain, far from monotone, far from… boring. He’s the exact opposite. 

He proves your little appearance, theory, too—he’s a pretty boy, and his personality reflects that. He’s gentle, somewhat shy, and very, very calm. You love everything about him. Vernon, certainly, is not plain. 

You go over to his room at around noon, soon after your meeting has finished. He meets you with a grin, sitting in his chair, looking identical to the boy you had known for what feels like forever. His eyes seem to glitter a little as he sees your face after opening the door. He asks how you are.

“Amazing, Vernon. Appreciate how you didn’t pick up my calls.”

His smile grows a little at the sarcastic response. Previously, he was pretty bad with your snarky comments. Over the past few years, though, he’s gotten a lot better at it.

“I know you’re lazy, but really, all you have to do is knock on your room. We share a wall, damn it. I can hear you through it.” Rolling his eyes, he closes the room behind you before you settle on his bed. Vernon is still packing up his stuff, so his room is a bit of a mess.

That comment, though, is a little embarrassing. You’ve lived next-door to one another for over two years, but it was only a few months ago that you discovered how thin the walls really were. You had assumed it was soundproof, since you almost never heard a peep out of Vernon when you were both in your rooms. Nope. He just happened to be very quiet on his own. That would’ve been good information to hear years ago. Did he not notice the kind of noise you made?

Feeling yourself warm up a little, you smile. “Sure, whatever. You’re busy though, didn’t wanna disturb. I don’t like turning up unannounced.” 

“I’ve always thought that was one of your strangest, but best, qualities. Thanks, honestly.” The grin on Vernon’s face is a genuine one, as sweet as always. He tosses you a bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups off his bed. “I’m stuffed right now. Have them.”

Those little sweets are a little pastime of yours, a part of your friendship no one else understands. 

It all started in the middle of your lecture, a few years ago. It was the first time you had sat next to Vernon during class, meaning it was also the first occasion you’d spent a prolonged period of time with him. Strange, because you were right next to each other on a floor of four flatmates. 

You had opened a pack of peanut butter cups. In the blink of an eye, his eyes were on you, squinting. You couldn’t even tell if it was anger or desire. But, regardless, you offered out the little pouch to him. With a few questionable looks back and forth between your eyes and the packet, he hesitantly took one and ate it.

For the rest of the lecture, no words were exchanged. After class, though, while getting ready for a Freshers’ week party, you came across him again while leaving your room. 

“Peanut butter girl. Got any more? I like them.”

You took the packet out of your bag, handing it to him. He smiled, a wide, almost gummy smile. With a meditative chew, he chucked one peanut butter cup into his mouth. “I think we’re gonna get on quite nicely.”

And that brought you to nearly two years later. University, so far, has been a rollercoaster. A lot of laughs, tears at the workload, but most importantly, Vernon being by your side. How you can stand being near him so much, not even you can understand—but that’s alright. What matters is that he’s with you.

“Do you think there are peanut butter cups in Switzerland?” Vernon asks, out of the blue. Before you can scornfully laugh at him, he stands up, hands reached out, blocking you. “That was a stupid question. Of course they do.”

You’re going to be one angry person if they don’t. Maybe it’s worth packing a suitcase full of a year’s worth of them.

The International Law course at your university offers a year abroad to study law in that country. Naturally, being as close as you are, you decided to go together. Being in another country on your own seems scary, and what better than to have your most trusted friend with you?

“Vernon, if it means anything, I’ll personally beat up the Reese’s owners if they don’t export this shit to the Swiss. Are you happy now?” You chuckle.

Vernon’s nodding, before taking one out of the pouch you’re holding, tossing it into your mouth. You catch it easily. It’s practically a calculated sport between the two of you now. “Very,” he snickers, “very happy.”

***

It’s a shame that nuts aren’t allowed on the plane. You had taken a pack with you to the airport before remembering someone could be allergic, so with reluctance, you placed them in your hold luggage before checking in. Shame.

Vernon is currently sat to your right, on the window seat. You’re flying first-class. Not that you had the money to buy those seats, but you and Vernon both happened to be people who had saved up a lot of miles from previous flights. Given that this was a one-way, special occasion, you used them up.

First class was beautiful. The screens were large, and the privacy was amazing. Complete with long beds to sleep on, you felt nothing less than utter peace. The plane was quiet, too—after all, how many people were flying to Geneva in the middle of October?

Vernon jolts awake, with a look of bewilderment on his face. “Where am I?” he splutters, before turning to his left, and relaxing a little at the sight of you by his side. “Ah, thank god, okay.” He shakes himself off a little, like a dog soaked by the rain.

“The hell happened?” you ask, slightly worried at his sudden change in demeanour. 

“Had a weird dream, that’s all,” he chuckles to himself, staring at his shoes before shaking his head. “I’m gonna go grab a drink, you want anything?” Vernon asks, putting his sliders on and standing up. “Come with me, actually.”

“Sure,” you shrug, pausing Captain America: Civil War and taking your headphones off. You follow him to the minibar not far from your seats, and ask the bartender what he’s got.

“We don’t serve any heavy-duty alcohol on short flights,” the man said, with a thick German accent, “but you can get beer and wine, or some mixers right now.” 

Vernon looks at you with a questioning look. You meet his gaze with a fond smile, and he grins back at you. “We’ll have two glasses of wine, please.” 

“Good choice, my liege,” you quip, linking your arm in his, suddenly speaking in a mockingly posh tone. Noticing this, he squints at you, raising his eyebrows in feigned surprise.

“I thought it to be suitable,” Vernon replies with a pointedness in his voice as he pulls on your linked arm a bit. The bartender chuckles at the interaction before pushing forward two wine glasses half-full of wine. You mutter a small ‘thank you’ before returning to your seats.

It’s quiet, for a few moments. You’re both dwelling in mutual, comfortable silence, letting the flavours of the wine settle in a little, not missing the way it makes your shoulders feel weak and head heat up. Wine doesn’t get you drunk, but it has a weird habit of having random, subtle effects. 

Vernon sets the glass down, after gulping down the last drops. “I can’t believe we’re actually moving to Switzerland,” he mumbles dreamily, “that’s actually crazy. Fifteen-year-old me would be shocked.”

“Me too,” you frown in thought. “We’re gonna make the best of this year, Vernon. You already know I’m gonna be photographing everything. I can’t wait for, you know, landing and stuff, and moving in, and going to the shops, and studying, and eating more peanut butter cups. Don’t you think it’s crazy?”

“Absolutely mad.” With a shrug, Vernon stands up and joins you on your little bed. There’s not much room length-wise, so once you’ve settled in properly, you’re very much squeezed up together. 

With a giggle, you hiss, “Why are you sitting with me?” Playfully poking him in the thigh with your fingertip, you can’t help but settle into his warmth a little. It’s nice to have someone close. “Outta here.”

“Why can’t I? You’re my best friend, after all,” Vernon chuckles before plugging in his headphones to your screen and resuming the movie. Your shoulders tingle a little. Just the alcohol. You shake it off before putting on your headphones and hitting ‘Resume’ on the remote.

“Fair point,” is all you return, a comfortable hush ending the conversation as the movie continues.

***

It’s six in the morning. You and Vernon have decided to wake early and see the sunrise.

Moving away is a fickle thing. Adjusting to the timezones, to the routines, language differences. But you’ve mutually decided to take a chilled approach to the year, maintaining a nice schedule. Waking early, going for a walk, doing any shopping. Returning. Getting ready for class, attending, walking back home. Studying and doing self-care for the night, before going to sleep.

It’s a nice life.

Lectures haven’t started yet. Turns out, you’re not the only international students studying in Switzerland. There’s two from China, one from California, and nine from South Korea. So, you’re not going to be alone, which is a relief. What isn’t a relief, though, is the fact that they’re all guys. 

The boy named Minghao has turned up at your apartment, expressing his desire to join you and Vernon on the morning walk. He thinks it’ll be good for him. Joining Minghao is a boy named Mingyu. Admittedly, they’re both quite handsome boys. Seeing them show up in otherwise thin clothes has you in a state of awe—just how are they surviving the morning cold? 

You open the door, followed by a slightly cranky Vernon. He’s not happy with the idea of getting up so early. The boy likes his sleep. But, regardless, he had forced himself out of bed, knowing he’ll enjoy the walk once he actually gets up. 

Vernon is shivering as he leaves. From experience, he often shivers when he’s nervous, along with the obvious low temperature. In this case, your best guess is that he’s feeling a little reluctant to meet two new people. They seem like nice guys, though, so neither of you are worried.

“Morning!” Hao smiles, chuckling at the sight of Vernon looking so sleepy. “Someone didn’t want to get up.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small Twix bar, tossing it at Vernon, who plucks it out of the air with two fingers. You choke a little at the sight. 

“Thanks. I actually love Twixes.” Vernon seems to loosen up a little, shooting a thankful glance at Minghao, who just smiles coyly in response. Mingyu laughs quietly, too. You’re starting to think that none of you are actually morning people. All four of you just look insanely tired. Maybe it’s just the university life getting to you all.

Mingyu finally speaks. It’s the first time you’re hearing him speak—you’ve only met Minghao before, who then introduced you and Vernon to all of his friends. “I honestly can’t get over this view. The Faculty of Law weren’t kidding when they said we’d have nothing to complain about.”

You take a long look over the waters of Lac Leman, a massive lake shared by both France and Switzerland. The university is right by it, maybe a ten-minute walk, and even better, your apartment has a beautiful view over the lake. It’s stunning. The waters are clear, calm, and it overlooks the Alps. You decide it’s an appropriate time to snap a photo. You take a second one, and just before you hit the capture button, Vernon photobombs it. You giggle a little before looking at the photo. His eyes are opened wide, with a gaping smile, and his hands are positioned towards the camera, fingers bent in little claws.

As ironic as it was intended, it’s a cute photo, you decide. Despite Vernon’s protests, you keep it. He reluctantly agrees.

Hao leans over your shoulder to take a look. With an amused chuckle, he zooms in a little. “Vernon, you are an absolute chick magnet,” Minghao remarks, grinning, “the ladies here are gonna love you.”

Vernon looks up slowly, mouth stuffed full of Twix. He frowns thoughtfully, waiting to swallow before he responds. “Look at you. Tall, and you have clear skin. I’d be surprised if there’s a girl who doesn’t like you.” Regardless of his response, you can tell Vernon is a little flustered by the compliment. He receives them quite often; after all, he is an attractive man. But it seems to you that a compliment from a man equally as handsome matters just a little more.

“Just take a compliment, will you?” Mingyu’s laugh is a kind one, a laugh that makes his eyes close and mouth open wide, letting out hearty chortles. It’s a nice laugh. You feel a little more at ease. “I should show that photo to my friend, Hoshi. You guys would love him. He acts like a tiger, for some reason. Lowkey looks like one. Love him for it, though.” 

“He sounds interesting,” you grin, putting the phone away. Linking arms with Vernon, you continue to walk. He’s trembling a little, and you know for sure it’s the cold getting to him. You decide, once you’ve warmed up a little, you’ll give him your little beanie.

Mingyu shoots you a questioning glance, but you decide not to follow it up if he’s not speaking on it. He has something he wants to say, you can tell. But that’s alright. He can say it in his own time. 

As you walk, you notice that all is quiet. There’s the occasional buzz of cars revving up to go to work, and that dog passing by, who affectionately wags his tail at you. It’s a lot better than home, you think. Switzerland really was a good choice.

The sun is just beginning to peek through the crevices of the mountains, golden rays cast down gently over your sleepy city. It’s not like anything you’ve seen before. If an angel were to descend from heaven right now, you know it would be in the midst of the clouds and rays of sunshine. Calling it divine is an understatement.

In a matter of time, you’ve warmed up a little, accustomed to the somewhat cold atmosphere. Unlinking your arm from Vernon’s, you slip off the long, thick trench coat, handing it to the boy, along with the beanie you’re wearing. He glances at them for a moment, then at you, muttering a little ‘thank you’ with a smile. After he slips it on, you sneak your arm back in with his, and you see the little grin widen slightly.

Part of the reason you do small things like that is because you know Vernon likes it. He would never admit it, but you just know he feels warm and fuzzy inside when you’re close to him. Why that is, you’re unsure, but you’ve concluded it’s because you’re basically his only close friend. Everyone needs some closeness in their life. They’d be lonely without it.

It’s not long before you stop at a grocery store. Mingyu says he needs to buy something, so you all decide to join him, because why not? It wasn’t like you had anything specific planned for this little outing of yours, so it would be nice.

The air inside the store is warm, and it’s welcoming. You instantly feel Vernon’s muscles relax a little at the rise in temperature, and that spreads a bit of relief into you, too. Strange, because you weren’t really feeling cold. Regardless, you welcome the warmth.

Vernon’s eyes light up at something distant. He dashes forward, tugging you along with him, so fast that you almost trip. He stops at a little kiosk, picking up a familiar, vibrant orange packet.

“Peanut butter cups.” The look on Vernon’s face is one of unconstrained joy, and you wish that you’d been able to snap a photo on time. It was a priceless sight; a bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups, held up by his face, and that familiar, gummy smile to accompany it. You grin at him in response, fishing out your change. It’s just one franc a pack, so you decide to buy five. Between you and Vernon, you tear through the little sweets surprisingly quickly.

Mingyu and Minghao have long disappeared to another end of the store. Something about looking for toilet paper. But, they’re back in a matter of time just as you approach the tills.

“It’s alright, I’ll pay,” Vernon says, fishing in his trousers for his wallet. He finds it eventually and adds up his change.

You scowl at him. “No. I’ve already got the money. It’ll be easier if I do.”

“You know what— we’re not having this argument again. Also, you paid last time, the hell? I’m paying. Shut up. I’m not having it if I owe you.” 

“This is futile,” you remark, “stop. I don’t care if you owe me.” The argument screeches to a halt when you finally hear Minghao snickering behind you. He’s practically hunched over. 

In the moment you spend looking at Minghao and Mingyu, Vernon has swiped his phone onto the card reader. Sneaky asshole. You had forgotten that was even an option. He smirks at you, smug, before snatching the peanut butter cup packets into a small paper bag and stuffing them in his—your—trench coat pocket. 

“Sometimes, Vernon. Sometimes.” That’s all you grumble before meeting his eyes again, and you find yourself smiling at him. That beautiful, toothy grin is on his face, how could you not? He tears open the first of the five packs and offers you one, and you chew on them meditatively as Mingyu scans and pays for his toilet tissue.

In the blink of an eye, Mingyu is done, and you’ve left the shop, beginning to walk again. You know the route pretty well by now, you’ve walked it two-or-so times with Vernon at sunset in the past few days. It’s crazy, you think, how you’ve been here for under a week, yet everything seems to feel like home.

Vernon’s beginning to warm up to Minghao, and the pair begin to walk ahead, discussing something to do with their old dance careers before entering higher education. They’re so absorbed in the conversation they don’t notice that you and Mingyu are slowly falling behind. That’s alright with you. If Vernon is making a new friend, you won’t disturb him, since it seems to take him a while to get to feel comfortable with someone new. Similar to you, you think. As a matter of fact, you can’t even tell what exact point marked the transition between passive acquaintances to close friends. 

The silence between you and Mingyu is only slightly awkward. There’s no tension, but just more anticipation on who was to say the first word. You notice that his steps have fallen in sync with yours—something you’re only used to seeing with Vernon—and you chuckle slightly at the immediate reminder of the guy.

“So, uh—”

“I was meaning to—”

You break out into a fit of laughter, and so does Mingyu; he’s bent over, creasing in loud laughs. It’s the most noise he’s made all morning, and you’re glad. Part of you was wondering if he was comfortable. 

“Go on. You go first,” you chuckle, gesturing your hands out in front of your chest to get him to speak. As he calms down, he shakes his head, letting out a final laugh.

“Nah. Ladies first.” What a ladies’ man. You’re smiling, wide, staring at the ground as you mutually pick up the pace a little to catch up to Vernon and Minghao.

You hands find their place in your pockets. “I was gonna ask what brings you to Switzerland. It feels a little crazy that there’s fourteen international students, all studying law, in this city, so, y’know.” 

“Ah.” Mingyu considers the question with a nod, face sincere and thoughtful. He’s quite handsome, you note, significantly more handsome than a lot of people you’ve met. Not all, but it’s still something. “I just think law is interesting. And, Switzerland, because, well… rich country, I guess? The culture here is somewhat different from Korean culture, so, I liked the idea. Plus, the other guys in my law course were coming here, so that’s another thing— wow, I’ve been talking for ages. Oops.” 

“Aw, don’t worry about that.” His little apology is sweet, and you feel bad that someone or something out there has made him feel bad for just talking. “What’s it like, in Korea? I’ve never been there, neither do I know much about it, so…” you trail off.

He’s chuckling again. It’s the type of laugh where his teeth show, little laugh lines on either side of his mouth, and it’s one that makes you feel warm. “That’s a broad question. There’s a lot to say. I guess, compared to here, the food’s really, really different. I wouldn’t compare them, taste-wise, but they’re both quite unique. And nice. I like it.” You notice he’s shivering a little bit as he walks, and you’re dumbfounded—how are you the only one who isn’t struggling? If you had any more suitable layers on, you’d have given them to him. But you’ve given them to Vernon.

“You know, I’ve tried— wow, you must be freezing. Give me your hands, for a sec, I think I’m pretty warm.” You extend your hands out for a moment, and Mingyu stops, facing you. Hao and Vernon haven’t noticed, and they continue to walk. After a glance at his pockets, then looking up at you, he grins, taking out his own hands from the jacket pockets and letting you warm them up for him. You’ve encased his hands in your own, rubbing them quickly, hoping the friction will help him a little. The moment your hands touch him, you notice his shoulders unclench and shivering halt abruptly. It makes sense, because his hands are as cold as ice, so there’s got to be a massive difference in the temperatures.

Mingyu clears his throat. “I don’t get how your hands are that warm.” 

“Me either. I guess I’m a warm person.” 

You weren’t used to being around such cold people. Back at home, they all seemed fairly accustomed to the climate, but it’s become apparent maybe you’re just different. That’s alright, though, it’s in your favour.

“Can I… can I take you on a date?” 

The question is so sudden, so out of the blue that it takes you a few seconds to register it. You’re so focused on warming his hands that you almost ignore the words.

You’re not sure why you’re so surprised. Maybe it’s the fact that such an attractive guy wants to take you on a date. Maybe it’s the fact that Vernon and Minghao, in the corner of your eye, are waiting for you, watching. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re inadvertently flirting with Mingyu. It wasn’t your intention, you’re sure, but it’s brought you to this stage.

You say yes.

There’s no particular reason you do. Why should you refuse? Mingyu is a handsome guy, and he seems like a kind person, so there’s no valid reason you have to say no. As you feel his hands warm a little under yours, you smile wryly. 

Looking up, you’re met with the face of a grinning Mingyu. “Tomorrow, six?” he asks. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Yeah,” you reply, letting go of his hands. You can’t help but smile in return. “Tomorrow at six.”

***

“Did you know you’re one of my favourite people?” 

You stumble up the stairs, and Vernon is behind you, doing his best to hold you up. It’s a difficult task, for someone of size equal to him, and more so when you are drunk out of your mind. 

The night has been spent out partying. Well, not necessarily partying—you’ve both been over to the apartment of Minghao, who was hosting a watch-party of sorts, with his other friends from university. There was a boy named Dokyeom, Seungkwan, the tiger guy named Hoshi, and another one called Seungcheol. You were surprised at how good-looking they all were, but not surprised at how much they liked to party.

It didn’t take many shots for you to lose yourself. Vernon, who is a lightweight, was a different story. Every time you’ve been out drinking together, it’s naturally fallen upon his shoulders to look after you, and this case is no exception.

“Is that so?” he replies almost absentmindedly, trying to get you up the stairs back to your own apartment. Then, what you’ve said settles in. Quietly, he enjoys your sudden sentimentality, choosing not to respond since you probably don’t mean a lot of it.

“But, like, really, though,” you ramble. “I think I’m the luckiest girl in the world to be able to travel to a different country and live with a guy as amazing as you.” Maybe you’re just flattering him now. “Have I ever told you you’re sooo pretty?” That one is going straight to his ego. “Like for real. You’re so real. Sometimes I struggle to believe you’re real. Actually for real so pretty. Like, god damn, leave some for the other guys.” Fuck the other guys. “Vernon, have you ever told a white lie?”

That’s a sudden change. He decides not to respond and allows you to continue, since you’re barely even acknowledging his presence as he unlocks the apartment door. “I think I have.” You enter the apartment, heading straight for your room and plopping on the bed. The sheets are cold, and it’s nice on your otherwise warm face. 

Vernon tilts your body until you’re laying on your side, and you continue to talk. “I feel bad. I actually can’t tell if it was a white lie but I think I told one.” For some unbeknownst reason, you begin to cry. “Is it bad to lie, Vernon? Is it?” 

“I don’t think so, not all the time,” he says, taking his shirt off and quickly putting a hoodie on. 

“Oooh,” you coo at him, choking a laugh out through strained sobs, throwing a spare pillow on the bed at his figure. He side-eyes you before breaking out into an amused laugh. “See what I mean when I say you’re pretty. Damn.” 

Vernon has no response to that, but instead he stares at you briefly like a child who’s just been caught breaking something. Shaking it off, he grabs some sheets from his own room and lays them down on the floor by you. 

It’s normal for Vernon to do that after you’ve drank a lot. While it’s never happened, he’s always been worried that you could end up throwing up in your sleep and choking on it, so he sleeps near you on nights like these so he can keep an eye on you. It’s nice.

“I don’t think I want to admit it, but can I let you in on a secret?” you giggle, hands reaching down to plonk and mess up his hair. He seems mildly taken aback by the gesture but settles into it, curling into his sheets a little to find warmth. 

“Go on,” he replies.

“I often get drunk like this because I like being close to you. Shh! Don’t tell Vernon, though!” 

He’s almost sure, at this point, that you’re more sober than you let on—surely, there’s no way you genuinely didn’t realise he is Vernon? Regardless, he lets that truth sink in a little. You actually enjoy how he cares for you. You trust him so much that you actually let yourself be that vulnerable around him.

Vernon smiles.

His face is heating up, a lot. The exact reason, he can’t pinpoint. Whether it’s the fact that your cold hands are playing with his hair, or it’s that you’ve just admitted such a deep secret to him, or it’s how your shirt is riding down a little bit. Or, it could be a combination of all three. 

“Mingyu asked me out on a date, yesterday,” you blurt. You weren’t meaning to tell him that, not right now, at least. He was obviously going to know, but closer to the occasion would’ve been more fitting. 

“He did?” Vernon feels his heart sink a little at that. He can’t blame Mingyu. It’s not like he’s known any of the guys for very long, and vice versa, so it’s not like they know that Vernon’s eyes are for you, and to give him some space. It’s unfair, though. Maybe, just maybe, if he did things differently in the past, it’d be him taking you on a date, holding you in bed as you throw up, being able to kiss you. Now, most likely, it’s Mingyu who does that.

Vernon has no choice but to accept it. He breathes deeply, pushing any surge of strong emotion backwards in his mind. Neutrality is key, he thinks.

“He did.” Your sobs have slowed a little, and you’re speaking even quieter now, as if you’ve actually acknowledged it’s just you two in the apartment, barely even a ruler’s length away from each other. “I— I said yes, but. In my head— something told me not to. But I didn’t know what. So I just. I just said yes, because I have no valid reason not to. Do I have a valid reason, dude?”

Yet again, he chooses to avoid responding. This dramatic monologue of yours will continue, and in a matter of minutes, you’ll probably find your own answer. 

Your hand stills in his hair, and you eventually pull it away. He lets out a pent-up breath he never knew he was holding following the loss of contact, and part of him wishes you kept your hand there.

“I dunno. I’m just. I’m just gonna go on that date. If it goes well, it goes well. Hopefully I’ll figure myself out so I don’t feel like a fucking dumbass anymore.” Your voice is low, and you sound quite miserable now.

“You’re not a dumbass,” Vernon whispers softly.

You snap your head in his direction, glaring at him. “Just ‘cause you care for me doesn’t mean you have to sugarcoat everything. I don’t actually mind if you call me a dumbass.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m not, because you’re not a dumbass. Now go to sleep. It’s two in the morning and we’ve got shopping to do tomorrow. Not letting you skip out just because you drank too much,” Vernon says. He decides to try shutting off the conversation so you don’t say much more to make him overthink it all too much. Or, even worse, say something you don’t mean to say. As much as he hates to think it, he prefers dealing with the sober you.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll sleep. Gooooodnight. Sleep well. Don’t leave me, aha! I might choke on my vomit and die. No one wants that.” 

“Don’t worry. When have I ever left you? Silly,” Vernon snickers.

“Good point.” You beam at him, and he’s looking on fondly. “You have never left me.”

***

As you walk, it’s only just occurring to you just how many bougie shops there are around. You’re not used to seeing this many—the only time you had, it was in an airport, with all of the designer brands in one place. But, nope, now, ten minutes from your place, was a Louis Vuitton shop, a Dior shop, a Rolex shop, and you’re sure you’ll end up seeing more.

Part of you is tempted to go in. After all, what’s the harm in looking at some fancy clothes? None, you decide. But you’ve got stuff to do, so you walk along, vowing you’ll come back another time. 

Joining you this time is Vernon, and Hao tags along. He’s not really with you guys, since he’s going off on his own occasionally to different shops, but he’s decided he’ll meet up again later at a pizza place for lunch.

Yet again, you and Vernon are alone.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you begin, unsure of whether the question is worth continuing, “what did I say last night? I feel like I’m remembering stuff, but it’s kinda embarrassing, so I’m praying that’s just my dreams or something.” Your face heats up a little at the ‘memories’ playing over and over in your head. Whether or not they were just dreams you’ve remembered are way beyond you, and that’s probably the most frustrating part—there’s a very real possibility you’ve said something stupid to Vernon.

“Like what?” he asks. It’s a simple question, and you’re sure he’s just trying to squeeze information out of you.

You nudge his shoulder. “I’m not saying that. If I give you examples, I may have not actually said that, then ended up revealing something I shouldn’t have. Oh, Vernon, you’ve known me so long, but apparently not long enough to realise I’d see straight through it.” 

He gestures at an H&M shop, and you shrug, following him inside. You recall him saying he wanted to buy a new coat. “You know, I’m not trying to trick you. I was being genuine when I asked. I don’t see what’s so strange about you being honest,” he replies, pawing weakly at a beige-coloured trench coat. You can tell he likes the feel of the material, but quickly frowns upon seeing the ugly colour of it. 

“Being honest?” you raise an eyebrow, grasping his forearm. “What do you mean, being honest?”

“You must be hiding some dark secrets, huh? I mean exactly what I said, don’t worry, you didn’t say anything too deep. You really read into my words when you’re nervous.” By the look on Vernon’s face, you can tell he’s mocking you a little, but by the way he says it all, you believe it’ll be alright to trust his words. He’s telling the truth. Or so, you hope.

“Okay.” You nod. “Okay, I believe you.” 

“Good,” Vernon says simply, before lifting up a light blue hoodie and lifting it to your torso. “This would look good on you. Try it.” Before you can respond, he excitedly runs over to the other side of the cloth-hanging stand, picking up a long, dark, blue trench coat. “I just know you’d rock this. Try this, too.”

“I would, but I don’t need to buy anything. It is cute, though.”

“If you’re not buying it, I’ll buy it for you. Now, go. Go, try it on,” Vernon laughs, pointing you off in the direction of the changing rooms. 

“What about you?” you protest, “I thought we’re here to buy you stuff!”

“We are. But that doesn’t mean I can’t buy you stuff, too.” 

You’re about to argue, but there’s no opposing Vernon. He may not seem like it, but he can be pretty firm when he wants to be, especially when it comes to money. Worse for you, since you hate owing people. 

He doesn’t even give you an opportunity to pay him back, either. No bank transfer, no nothing. Vernon says he doesn’t believe in owing people, and that if you want to do something for someone, you should do it for free without expecting a reward. His exact words were, “if you do something expecting a reward, you’re an ass. End of.” A part of you envies that philosophy, wishing you could uphold that yourself, but you simply can’t bring yourself to. 

What he doesn’t notice, though, is you slipping money into his wallet. 

It’s not a large sum at once. But usually it’s just small notes, peppered into his wallet throughout a few days so he doesn’t notice. Vernon has noticed once or twice, swearing he spent “that money” earlier, but you’re sure he doesn’t realise it’s you.

Nowadays, it’s a fun little mind game you like to play with him.

As you get changed, you can hear Vernon shuffling in the cubicle next to you. He’s picked up a few different pullover hoodies, jeans, four beanies, and two different trench coats to go with it. He’s been meaning to buy clothes for a few days, since he was looking to revamp his wardrobe, and moving to Switzerland would be the best opportunity, since he could pack less when moving.

In a matter of time, he’s out, asking if you’re done. You’ve been done for a while, but just sat in the cubicle, staring in the mirror. Why not. Sometimes staring at your own reflection is fun, and somehow, it had kept you occupied for five minutes as Vernon changed his outfit completely. As you open the curtain to leave, you open your mouth in shock.

Vernon does not look the same. The little blue beanie leaves a little bit of the front floppy locks hanging out, and it perfectly matches the dull blue of his jeans; under the black, felt trench coat is an oversized jumper which goes well past his waist. It’s the best outfit he’s put together in a long time, and you can’t help having that sharp intake of air at the sight. He does a little 360-degree turn so you can see all of it, lifting his arms in the air for some reason.

“How do I look?” he asks. 

“Stunning.” 

Arms falling to his sides, Vernon’s gaze seems to soften a little. You watch the soft blush seep through his skin like an indolent sigh. He looks at the floor for a moment before glancing at you and smiling, uttering a simple, “thank you.” 

You think it’s cute how simple compliments get to him so much. Maybe it’s sad, but it makes him very easy to please, and above all, it makes you feel happy knowing that he gets shy from this stuff. There’s a fine line between teasing and sincerity, but you know you’re bordering on the former. 

“Are you gonna buy it?” you ask, copping a feel of his jacket for a moment. You’re not sure why, but it’s just fun to think you’re a professional by rubbing the fabric between your fingers a little. It’s alright, though. 

“Of course I am, with that reaction,” Vernon chuckles, “what about that hoodie? That green suits you really well.” 

The compliment isn’t much, you think, but you still find the corners of your mouth upturning at the words. You know green suits you, anything does. But something about the honey-like sweetness in his voice makes you want to lay down on dry tufts of grass, water a hypothetical garden of beautiful bright plants, and roll around in the colour just about any way possible. 

“You know what? I might just buy it.” Maybe it’s not all just about how good it looks on you. Part of it is about sentimental value—Vernon recommended you try it on. He was responsible for your discovery of the article of clothing. When you see it in the future, and whenever you wear it, you’ll be reminded of his grinning face. That’s a lovely thing.

Tilting his head slightly, Vernon looks surprised. “Wow. Really?” he asks, to which you nod, and he smiles. With a chuckle, he pulls off the coat and disappears momentarily into the fitting room to change back into his normal outfit. It’s only a matter of time before he returns, back into his old clothes, and you’re feeling a little deflated at the sudden change. On the bright side, once he’s bought a bunch of new clothes, you’ll be able to regularly see this new, suddenly self-aware Vernon a lot more. 

Once you’ve paid at the counter and carefully packed it all into paper carrier bags, you’re out of the store, and walking down a maze of streets to the pizza place you’ve promised to meet Minghao at. It takes a while, but you eventually find it, and a smiling Minghao is already sat at a table, beckoning you both over. 

When you consider it, eating out isn’t something you really miss. The quiet nights back at university ordering delivery food or making five-minute noodles were peaceful, especially when you’d sit with Vernon in comfortable silence, perhaps watching a show, or exchanging the occasional giggle when someone got a droplet of spicy broth on their cheek.

One time, in a moment of shared stupidity, you were both in the flat kitchen, and decided to bake random things in the oven. While the criminally unseasoned chicken breast turned out dry and tasteless, and the grilled cake was nothing short of disgusting, you had come up with a new concoction. Fat, large marshmallows in the bottom of a cake pan, followed by chocolate chips, and crushed cookies of your choice. That, once baked, was like heaven on earth, and Vernon was so proud of the combination he didn’t stop talking about it for a week. While you were sure it was mainly to your credit, you decided to let him have that victory, since he was just so excited. 

Good times, you think.

“What did you buy?” Minghao asks, cheerful. He’s got a wide smile on his face, and you spend a moment pondering how you were in the presence of such a good-looking guy. He definitely has a girlfriend back home.

“Mainly clothes,” Vernon answers. His responses flow a lot easier now, it seems that the long chat about God-knows-what on that morning walk did wonders for their blossoming friendship. “Convinced this difficult person to actually buy something for herself,” he quips, sounding proud and somewhat full of himself. It’s rare that he makes snarky comments like that, but when he does, you adore it.

Sometimes, you feel like you’re so difficult like that because it makes it more satisfying for him when he finally ‘persuades’ you to do something. How could you not? When he gets excited, smiling wide, cheering, lording it over you, there’s no way you can’t set him up like that.

“Difficult? How’s she difficult?” Hao returns, sounding genuinely interested. He adjusts his glasses, glancing at you before turning his attention back to Vernon.

“Many ways,” Vernon laughs, and you notice a doting smile on his face, “she hates spending money, mainly. But, no, when it comes to one-upping me, she’s suddenly ready to spend. You are a real wonder.” 

“I pride myself on it,” you declare with glee, looking at him dreamily. It’s true. At first, it was just a funny inside joke, but so many layers of irony have been piled on, you’re not sure what’s ironic anymore. That’s alright, though. 

The three of you remain in comfortable silence for a few minutes as you study the menu for dishes you might like. After stealing a look at other customers’ pizzas, you determine that they are absolutely huge and can’t finish one on your own. So, you order two between you, agreeing to have one-third from each pizza, as with the other pizzas.

Everyone’s just quite hungry from a morning out, so no one’s talking very much as you order. The pizza doesn’t take too long to arrive, since the dough’s already made and bakes in a fiery hot oven for five-ish minutes with its toppings. All of a sudden, the pizzas are being delivered to your table, and the smell of cheese and herby tomato wafts into your noses, and you are overtaken with bliss.

Leaning in a little, you sniff the fumes from the bubbling-hot pizza. It’s a brilliant smell. “Vernon…” you swallow, “it smells so good. Why didn’t we come to Switzerland sooner?” 

“Because… we’re third-year students, and this is our international year?” Vernon smiles at your irony. He knows you’re joking. His favourite way, however, to tease you, is to act like an oblivious idiot. You’re over it. All of that aside, you enjoy it.

“No shit,” you jibe, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. Turning your head back, you watch in awe as the server cuts through the thin, crispy pizza with ease.

A part of you feels like it’s burning. You can’t put your finger on it. Chances are, it’s just the steam from the pizza, but that’s just supposed to make your skin feel warm, not like it’s on fire as though you’re being touched in all of the right places.

It feels as though an icy finger is being dragged down your spine. With a shiver, you turn to Vernon, who is smiling fondly at you, and you smile back. It’s impossible not to. Without a thought, your hand finds his under the table, and you squeeze it lightly. 

He squeezes back.

Hao dishes out the slices of pizza, four each, two of each pizza type. One is a simple margherita pizza, and the other is a pepperoni pizza complete with basil and thyme. They’re gorgeous, you’re aware, so you waste no time in digging in.

After finishing a bite, Minghao finally speaks. It feels like ages since he’s said something. “I forgot to ask, when’s your date with Mingyu? He said he asked you out, I’m a little… You know, excited. He is my friend, after all, I’m curious.” 

You freeze upon hearing him say that out loud. You hadn’t got around to mentioning it to Vernon yet. There wasn’t any particular reason you didn’t, you’re sure. Just a lack of the right opportunity. Yet again, your face burns, but in the kind of way you’re not a fan of.

“Right, I forgot to mention,” you quickly clarify to a confused-looking Vernon. “Mingyu asked me on a date. We’re supposed to be going… soon. Something like that.” Chuckling nervously, you take another bite. You’re not sure why it makes you feel so… disgusted to say that out loud. Almost as though the words rolling off your tongue are coming right back to bite you in the ass. Guilt washes over you slightly—Mingyu is a lovely guy, so why are you having second thoughts all of a sudden?

“Sounds great. So, uh, what do you like about him?” Vernon asks, clearing his throat as he wipes his mouth clean.

The words don’t come to your mind easily. You’re so lost that it becomes agitating—it should be way easier than this. But it’s not. If only you could kick yourself.

“He’s… he’s cute.” This feels wrong. “I mean, I don’t know much yet, but he seems nice.” True, but does that even matter? “Could be fun.” 

Could. Not ‘will.’

***

With a shaky laugh, Mingyu leads you to the taxi, unlocking it as you approach. His smile is wide. As you enter through one door, he meets you on the other side, and it’s all shy giggles once you’re sitting in the car together, the driver bringing you back. 

“You’ve had too much to drink,” Mingyu states matter-of-factly. It’s true, though, your face feels abnormally warm and you just can’t seem to stop giggling. 

The date was nice. He took you out for dinner at a local Italian restaurant, drank with you, and went karaoking afterwards. Your throat feels sore from all of the screaming. It’s a nice kind of sore, though, the kind of sore that’s associated with good memories, so you like it.

You couldn’t help the overwhelming weight of guilt that seemed to push you into the deep end. It was odd. What had you feeling so iffy was unbeknownst to you, and that was probably the worst part: you had no reason to feel so… wrong for going on a date with Mingyu. 

The cab ride back is quite short. The streets are clear in the night, just the occasional person walking around. While Geneva has a vibrant nightlife, people appear to know their limits and don't cause too much noise avoiding using cars where possible. What a dream.

Zoning out, your eyes fixate on a random point of the window. You’re not even sure what it is you’re so fixated on. Maybe it’s the beautiful stars out in the sky, maybe it’s the little girl on the street feeding her father ice-cream, or the young couple going at it in an alleyway. That was a first occurrence in your first week in Switzerland. If anything, you had no right to judge—if you had a boyfriend, you would’ve been in their place.

Before you realise, the cab ride is over, and Mingyu pays for it. You feel a pang of guilt. Deep down, you know you can’t let this go any further, yet he’s still paid for it all. That’s alright. You can transfer him the money back.

Mingyu exits the cab quickly, opening the door for you. With a stumble, you’re out, and he’s thanking the driver for the ride, leading you to the door of your apartment. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll walk you up there, then get going. I’ve got to go see human resources tomorrow, need my sleep,” Mingyu states, smiling. He seems sad that he can’t stay for much longer, but, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re glad.

His hand cups your cheek. Your breathing stills slightly, and you look up at him.

“I… I’m sorry. I have feelings for Vernon.” 

The words come out faster than you register, a sequence of letters that rush out with more fervour than you thought you were capable of. The realisation is equally as shocking, but you know deep down, it’s been there all along. That’s what’s been nagging at you. As lovely as Mingyu is, it’s Vernon you want.

Vernon, who has been there for you for as long as you can remember. Vernon, who helps you with whatever you need. Vernon, who cares for you and keeps you company when you’re sick or sad. 

It’s always been him.

You look on at Mingyu’s face, guilty, but he doesn’t seem too mad. He exhales slowly and flashes you a sad smile. “I kind of wish you’d told me that earlier before I took you on this date,” he scratches his head sheepishly, “but, I understand. You seem nice. I know you didn’t do this on purpose.”

“I really didn’t… I’m so sorry.” 

“I know. I know. Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I’m in love or anything; let’s just put this behind us, like a one-time date. Got to know each other quite nicely, if anything.”

Mingyu’s casual attitude to your words is quite shocking, but you figure you should be grateful. It’s not every day you meet a guy who doesn’t flip after you turn him down following a date. Guys like that are worth keeping around, and you know, even after this, you want to be friends.

“I hope things work out with Vernon,” he adds, nodding. He kisses your cheek softly before breaking away, leaving for the night. 

***

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Minghao’s apology is sincere, and Vernon knows he can’t blame him for something that was out of his control. He sighs, but quickly shakes it off and goes to grab himself a drink.

“I don’t blame you. You didn’t know anything, so… can’t expect you to have stopped Mingyu.” 

Vernon is sure you’re not coming home for the night. Hell, you left eight hours ago—if you were coming back, you’d have returned by now. For all of ten minutes, he was on the verge of tears, but, as usual, he sucked it up and stuffed it in the back of his mind.

Weeks after you and Vernon had met, he had sworn to himself he wasn’t trying anything with you. As pretty as you were, as kind, as funny as you were, the distraction wasn’t worth it. Maybe you would be a good type of distraction. University was hard enough as is, though, did he really have time to care for someone in his life? 

The decision is one he regrets. Sometime, a long time ago, maybe you’d have reciprocated his feelings. But, not any more. 

That is all Vernon’s fault.

There’s no resentment in his decision. It’s impossible to be angry at someone who has done no wrong. Part of him, though, wishes you never said yes to Mingyu, that you never went on that date, wishes you weren’t spending the night with him.

“It’s alright,” Vernon breathes. “If she’s happy, I’m happy. Can’t ask for much more than that.” The hot, salty tear racing down his cheek betrays his words, and he quickly wipes it away.

That’s not true. He could definitely ask for more.

The door to the apartment unlocks with a few clicks, and the heads of Vernon and Minghao shoot in the door’s direction simultaneously.

“Hey,” you say, smiling.

You didn’t spend the night with him.

Vernon smiles weakly. “Hey, how—”

“Are you free for dinner tomorrow?”

Hao’s still watching, and in the corner of your eye, you can see his eyebrows shoot up in shock. You cough awkwardly, dusting away the nonexistent dirt on your clothes.

“Yes. I am,” Vernon responds. He’s pouring himself hot water into a mug, but doesn’t notice that it’s started to overfill. With a shock, he quickly plops it down, deciding not to immediately go to clean it.

Shaking, your fingers tear open a pack of Reese’s mini peanut butter cups. For no good reason, you throw one perfectly in Vernon’s direction, and he leaps to catch it with his mouth, smiling once he begins to chew it.

“Great,” you smile, biting your lip. “Then, it’s a date.” 

You don’t stick around longer, heading to your room quickly to get changed, showered and dressed.

Hao smiles at Vernon. Vernon smiles back.

“That— god, that girl.”

A Nighttime Routine

Summary: Vernon successfully ropes you into helping him take off his makeup and ends up doing it for him anyways because you're weak for him and you both know it. Freckle appreciation ensues.

WC: 800

Established relationship, this is just pure fluff

A/N: This was written in one sitting and is very unedited. You have been warned. This is based on one of the photos released for Vernon's TTT preview cuts!

Thank you to @multi-kpop-fanfics and @wonwussy for witnessing me sob over this on Discord you're both real ones <3

“Hold still for me, please.”

Vernon hummed quietly as he followed your request, relishing in the delicate way your fingers skimmed over his face as you took his makeup off for him. His eyelashes fluttered as he peered up at you, admiring the look of concentration you had adopted. He told you before that you didn’t need to focus so much when you removed his makeup, but you were insistent in trying to avoid harming him as much as you could. Knowing how stubborn you could be, he let it slide and chose to take the chance to stare at you to his heart’s content. That didn’t last for long when you went to get another cotton pad, noticing the way Vernon stared at you and flushing at the adoration in his eyes. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You grumbled lightheartedly, turning around to busy yourself with the rest of his skincare products to avoid showing how embarrassed you were.

“Is it wrong for me to want to appreciate the work that my lovely partner is doing for me? And is it wrong to want to admire them either?” He asked, a slight pout on his face. 

You rolled your eyes at him, noting the sparkle in his eye as he continued to theatrically pout at you. “You can stare at me all you want after I take your eye makeup off. Now, close your eyes please.”

“Has anyone told you that you would be a good makeup artist before? I think you would be fantastic at it.”

“Only for removing makeup, apparently. But sorry, my clientele only includes my goofy boyfriend who won’t stop giving me looks until I agree to help him take his makeup off. Or take it off for him while he sits in our bathroom looking pretty. 

Venron laughs lightly at that, smiling widely at you even with a pair of cotton pads on his eyes. “Your boyfriend must be very lucky to get exclusive treatment like this, and I know he knows he’s lucky too.” 

You flush again, scrunching your nose at him while he still can’t look at you and you don’t say anything, diligently removing the last of his eye makeup.

He blinks slightly as he opens his eyes again, and only smiles more at the embarrassed look on your face. “All joking aside, thank you for indulging in me and thank you for being so wonderful to me. I know I can take my own makeup off by myself, and I’ve been doing it for years, but it’s just better when you do it, y’know?” 

You sighed lightly, fighting to keep the smile off your face and failing to do so while you ushered Vernon to get up and put lotion on. It was your turn to admire him as he diligently worked to keep his skin healthy, something he noticed as he smiled at your reflection in the mirror. 

Vernon turned around, a question on his lips but was cut off by you gently cupping his face in your hands. You smiled softly at him, thumbs brushing over the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose. 

“This is my favorite part of taking off your makeup, getting to see your freckles without anything covering them up.” You murmured softly. “Your makeup artists should stop covering them up so much, y’know. They’re so pretty, why would anyone want to hide them?” 

Vernon snorted at that, but leaned more into your touch. “If I didn’t know any better, I would've thought that you liked my freckles more than you like me.” 

You shook your head fondly, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips as you stared into his eyes. “I loved you before I knew you had freckles. I just love you more now because of them.” 

Stunned at your honesty, Vernon flushed and hid your face in your neck while you laughed softly and petted the hair on the back of his head. He began to softly rock you back and forth as you held each other, a soothing silence taking over the bathroom. 

When Vernon was finally able to look up at you again, you stunned him yet again by kissing the freckle on his nose and continuing to kiss the rest of his freckles as he whined at you to stop. 

Once you had your fun though, Vernon swept you up in a tight hug, murmuring thanks into your ear as you settled into the hug. 

Whatever you were going to say next was cut off by a quiet yawn, prompting Vernon to chuckle at you slightly. 

“Come on, let’s put everything away so we can go to bed, and if you’re not completely out of it by the time we get there we can just cuddle instead. How does that sound?”

You nodded quickly, helping Vernon put everything back in their designated spot before taking him by the hand and leading him out of the bathroom to your shared bed. Satisfied with a job well done and basking in each other's presence, you both slowly drifted to sleep. 

l.jihoon (2:44 am)

Summary: uji being tired and your comfort brings him at ease

Pairing: lee jihoon x gn!reader

Note/s: he/him for woozi's pronouns, no specified pronouns for reader | time stamp | short fic

"hi love." you greeted your beloved boyfriend for 2 years and a half as he walked towards your shared bedroom. work was stressing woozi out these days but luckily, their company was considerate enough to give them 1 week off and they'll start their promotion for their new song, 'darl+ing' after their break. (stream 'darl+ing' darling. -chwe vernon)

"hey." he replied with a tired tone as he sat down on his side of the bed. you glanced at the clock and it read, '2:44 am.' "how was work?"

"shit." you chuckled at his reply and he stood up on his feet before giving you a peck and went to the bathroom to change his clothes.

you patiently waited for your boyfriend as you scroll through your phone some more. after a few minutes, he went out wearing pajamas. he looked at you with worry in his eyes. "you don't have to wait for me everytime, you know."

"i know but i wanted to. besides, you've been busy with work these past few days and we hardly see each other because of our busy schedules so i think waiting for you to get home is the only way i can see you." you replied as he climbed on the bed and lay beside you.

"sorry.." he mumbled and hugged you. you let his head rest on your chest as you returned his hug. you can only see this clingy side of woozi when he's super tired.

"it's alright love." you said and silence fell upon you two.

minutes pass and you slowly started to get sleepy. "hey love?" woozi called out your name. "hm?"

"thank you, for staying by my side always. i don't tell you this everyday but i love you so much." you smiled when you heard his words and you peck his forehead. "i love you too, jihoon."

do you want to go back?

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