Wonwoo's Tasty Cereal (And Milk)

Wonwoo's Tasty Cereal (And Milk)

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synopsis: You've been eating cereal wrong your entire life. Wonwoo and your niece are going to fix that.

Genre: Fluff, crack, pseudo-dilf!Wonwoo (ie. "Uncle Woo"), hints of dilf!Jeonghan

Warnings: Mentions of food, they watch Land Before Time, mentions of Wonwoo dressing up as Naruto as a kid (low-key felt like this was more a Jihoon thing, but I left it for humor - please laugh :') )

WC: ~1.6K

Permanent taglist: @nanamioo @bibinnieposts @woozarts @wonuziex @rockwidthyou @sleeplessdawn @jeonghanniehae95 @sadkidwarexpert

A/N: Based of off this tweet. For shits and giggles only - I don't really care how Wonwoo eats his cereal lol. Nobody's perfect and whatever makes him happy, I guess 🙄😂 jk jk jk.

Title is a play on Jeonghan's 'Warm Glass of Milk' - yes, despite this being about Wonwoo, Jeonghan still found way to seep into it. I would also like to credit @aceofvernons for helping me build up this trope a while ago . . . Initially, we thought Vernon would be the type to do this, but we were both wrong lol.

It's not my best work since I do not dabble in fluff . . . but I tried! Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it - this one's especially for you and your weird (affectionate) man's @wisteria-woo💙

“Do not corrupt that little girl when she comes over, okay?” you warned him, arms folded across your chest. 

Wonwoo paused in his chewing, the Cheerio in between his thumb and his index finger, holding it just inches away from his chapped lip as he peered at you innocently, through the tops of his black-wired spectacles – or at least he tried. Without the corrective lenses, you were all but a beautiful blur to him. 

Your older sister was dropping your niece off in a few hours, while she and her husband, Jeonghan, went for a date night – one that was long overdue. They needed some alone time and you volunteered to babysit. Nina would be spending the night at yours and Wonwoo’s shared apartment as well. 

Pushing the piece between his lips, he crunched down on it mechanically, shrugging nonchalantly. “Corrupt her over what?”

You pointed to the glass of milk in his hand and the dry bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios sitting in front of him. “That.”

The right corner of his lip curled up, spreading his lips into a thin, crooked smile. Doing his best to hide his humor from you, his eyes fell from your gaze as he loudly cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He choked back a laugh, hiding behind the rim of his glass of milk. 

Curse him and his good looks. That stupid shy smile that stretched across his face and puffed up his cheeks, never failed to make your heart flutter despite being annoyed by the way he eats cereal. 

Seriously? Who the hell eats cereal and drinks milk separately?

You’ve heard of people who put milk first (which he also did much to your horror as you found out after the first morning you spent over at his old apartment), but this . . . this was another level of strange. 

“C’mon,” he let out an exasperated breath, trying to calm himself down. He placed his glass of milk down on the table with a loud ‘clunk.’ “It’s not that bad – Honey Nut Cheerios dry taste good!”

“Then eat it dry! Don’t . . . drink milk on the side with it!” you exclaimed. You pressed your lips into a tight line, fighting the grin that was about to spread from ear-to-ear across your face. 

You knew it was a stupid and childish argument – food was food, and he could eat cereal, however he wanted. Nonetheless, it has become an ongoing joke between the two of you for a few years now. You couldn’t let him live it down just yet – he was your boyfriend after all, and what’s a love without a little banter?

Tilting your head towards him, a knowing look on your face, you noted, “Jeonghan will never forgive you if you set Nina up.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, tossing another piece into his mouth. He reached for his milk, purposely took a long sip to make a point. 

“You are insufferable, Mr. Jeon,” you frowned playfully. 

He winked at you teasingly. “When it’s our kids though –”

You blushed profusely, reaching for the nearest towel in the kitchen and tossing at his face to cut him off. 

“It’s cereal before the milk!” you called before running out of the kitchen, trying your best to ignore the way your heart pounded against your rib cage, blood rushing through your ears. 

Jeon Wonwoo was something else. 

The night with Nina went rather well. 

Dressed to the nines, your sister and Jeonghan had dropped her off with specific instructions about her nightly routine. Nina was heading on five, able to tolerate a little longer of an evening now. Dinner at 6PM, bath at 7PM, and bedtime was at 830PM. The rest of the evening was yours and Wonwoo’s to spend together. 

Not having been around kids for a while, it was all just . . . a little overwhelming for Wonwoo. He was not naturally gifted with the power of being good with kids, that was more your thing, but he didn’t mind them. Nina was fun, a little too energetic for his liking, but fun nonetheless. For some reason, Jeonghan let her come over dressed in a neon green dinosaur onesie and a backpack full of dinosaur figurines and a cartoon called Land Before Time. Wonwoo would find her on all fours, crawling around the apartment every now and then. 

He figured, maybe, she was going through a phase – like he did with Naruto when he was nine. He shook off the embarrassing memories of showing up to school in a bright orange jumpsuit and the Leaf Village headband tied around his forehead (upside down too).  

Wonwoo had never grown up watching it, but Land Before Time wasn’t that bad of a show – though, Sara, the yellow triceratops, was kind of annoying. Looking over at Nina, it was the innocent curiosity in her eyes every time she saw something she didn't understand, like Littlefoot's parents knocking their necks together or if she could swallow cherries whole like Perry, that made him melt a little. A smile curled on his face unknowingly while he watched her, his insides feeling warm and at ease. He hadn’t seen that look in a while – it was nostalgic.

"Can you stay for a little bit, Uncle Woo?" Nina had asked him wide-eyed when he put her to bed. You had a small cot set up for her in the corner of your shared office. "Daddy always hums a song about warm milk before I go to sleep."

Wonwoo tucked his hands into his pants, letting out a small huff. "Um . . . I'm afraid I don't know any songs about milk, kid."

"That's okay," she kicked her feet underneath her blue blanket. "Can you just stay? Hold my hand?” she wriggled her chubby fingers at him. “Until I sleep?"

She was certainly her dad’s daughter: big, shiny brown eyes with pretty long lashes. She was still innocent, but Wonwoo could feel it in his spine – she was going to be a menace of a trickster before anyone knew it. She could guilt anyone into doing what she wanted – including Wonwoo. 

At least, for now.

"Sure," Wonwoo replied, settling on the floor beside her. He let out a soft hum, slipping his large hands into her smaller ones. 

“Thank you,” she sang, settling back into her pillow. “Ni-ni, Uncle Woo.”

The corner of his lip twitched into a lopsided smile. He reached over with his free hand, brushing the stray locks away from her cherubic face. His index finger lingered a while on her soft cheek. “Good night, Nina,” he whispered. 

Later that night when you came to check on her, your heart swelled at the sight of Wonwoo still by your niece’s side. He had fallen asleep somewhere along the way, his head resting on the ledge of Nina's cot. His glasses were crooked though, threatening to slip and crack on the floor any minute. You took the liberty of taking them off and placing them on his desk. Throwing back one last glance, you let them be. His back would hurt in the morning, but they looked peaceful.

You could get used to this.

. . . .

Or not.

Your feet stuttered to a stop in the hallway, when you heard Wonwoo’s deep laughter bellowing throughout the apartment from the kitchen, Nina’s cute giggle joining his not shortly after.  

“Yeah,” you assumed he was talking to your niece, “You just take a piece here,” you heard a crunch, “And then – drink milk from your glass.”

“Uncle Woo! That’s so neat!” Nina exclaimed excitedly. 

He nodded and leaned across the table to meet the little girl’s gaze, “It’s nice too because you don’t end up spilling any milk trying to pour it into the bowl.”

“Oohh,” she marveled as if Wonwoo had just said the most genius thing ever, “That’s good! Mommy always scolds me if I splash milk on the counter.”

“Mmhm,” Wonwoo grabbed a handful of cereal. 

“And then I have to clean it up!” Nina complained, she wrinkled her nose at the all too painful memory. 

“That’s terrible,” Wonwoo gasped. 

“Right,” she pouted. 

“Jeon Wonwoo,” you revealed yourself from your hiding spot, hands crossed over your chest already. 

Hair disheveled, a strand sticking up on the side, he grinned widely, scrunching his nose ever so slightly. “Morning.”

“I told you not to corrupt her!” you scolded. 

“I’m not,” he pointed at Nina, “She thinks I’m the coolest person in the entire world.” He nudged Nina gently, “Don’t ya, squirt?”

“Uncle Woo taught me how to eat cereal the right way!” she told you proudly. 

“You know,” he faked a disappointed tone, “Auntie Y/N eats cereal wrong – cereal before the milk.”

“Wonwoo,” you warned. 

“Oh,” Nina crumpled her lips into a pout. Much too similar to Wonwoo already, she grasped the short plastic cup with both hands and sloppily slurped the white liquid inside. When she placed the cup back down, there was a little milk-stache lining her upper lip. You couldn’t hold back your laughter – Wonwoo likewise. He chuckled, reaching for a napkin to wipe her face. 

“Auntie Y/N, you should listen to Uncle Woo more,” Nina berated when he finished, “He’s got some good stuff.”

You were too late – the little girl was whipped. 

“Yeah,” he raised his eyebrows teasingly at you, “Don’t I?”

If you can’t beat them, join them, right?

Rolling your eyes, you made your way over, swiping at the cereal and stealing Wonwoo’s milk as you sat down. You caught Wonwoo’s gaze chomping down on the small, hard grain.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he bumped your shoulder with his own, “You love it.”

“No, but I love you, so –”

He pecked you on the cheek chastely. “Glad we could come to a mutual understanding.”

. . .

Read about Jeonghan feels here!

LEE KNOW "★★★★★ (5-STAR)" Recording Scene｜2023 STAYweeK

The (Cat)Parent Trap

Alternatively: Rocket, Mango, and the Idiots in Love

Vernon Chwe x Reader (gender not specified i think? i hope?)

Genre: fluff (figurative & literal)

Word Count: 8.3k

Wanings: some cursing / adult language. alcohol & drunk decisions. some mild jealousy. there are so many cats.

[Series: Serenity Street 17] You start feeding what appears to be a pair of neighbourhood cats. Turns out they belong to the cute guy living in the rooftop apartment.

Note: is this a Vernon romance fic or a typed-out version of my never-ending dreams of getting a cat with Vernon? no clue.

“Hello there, little guys.”

Your melodious greeting was met with an equally musical chorus of meows, purrs and chirps. The otherwise empty hallway filled with the soft patting of tiny feet, the footsteps getting louder as they rushed to greet you, never once forgetting to let out another chirp to tell you they missed you.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the way the smaller black one rubbed itself against your leg, jumping up a little to reach the tips of your fingers for affection. The other, white cat was more passive, merely meowing at you impatiently as she sat down barely a metre from you.

Though you expected no proper answer, you still asked them if they were hungry and how their days had been as you made your way over to the door. The apartment door – a proud golden number 4B shining on it – came unlocked with ease, even with the cats pressing against your calves and bumping against the door frame. 

“Give me a moment,” you told them and opened the door. 

The sight of the two cats running in like it was their home to begin with greatly amused you. Before you could even blink, the black cat had settled down on your couch, snuggling into your cushion. The other one jumped onto your kitchen chair, expectantly staring at you. 

You couldn’t help but wonder where they really lived. Were they just stray cats from the neighbourhood that one of the inhabitants had let in out of pity? Or did they have an owner somewhere in this building? Maybe it was the new couple upstairs: Wonwoo did seem rather fond of cats. Or perhaps they belonged to the grumpy guy from 1B – he seemed to rather adore animals as well.

Whoever their owner was or was not, you did not have the heart to turn these cats away when they asked for snacks so sweetly. 

At this point, it was second nature to toe off your shoes and head to the kitchen cabinet to pull out a small bag of treats and a bigger bag of dry food for cats. 

All it took was just the sound of the bags being taken out and both cats were once again circling you as if you deserved all the worship in the world. They only calmed down once you had placed the food in the little bowl you had bought for them a few weeks back. 

“Eat well,” you sang, and got started on your evening routine. You liked having these cats around – the two-bedroom apartment seemed less empty when the cats visited for an evening. 

Sometimes they stayed the night, with the white one happily curled up on your window sill as the black one in a comfy spot at the foot of the bed. You deeply cherished these nights and once again a thought came to mind: who was the one that got to enjoy their cuddles on most night – on the nights when they weren’t with you?

But even with these thoughts plaguing you, you felt a little selfish. You liked these cats. Asking around for their owner could lead to never seeing them again. And then what? You’d have to get a cat or two of your own. 

Wide-eyed, you paused in the middle of washing your teeth and stared at your reflection. “That’s not a bad idea.”

A small accusatory meow came from the bathtub, where the white cat had somehow settled down for the evening. You took that as a firm ‘no’ and continued your routine. 

Once you were settled in bed, the black cat joined you. Her paws immediately got busy kneading your blanket. You concluded that she either had no sense of loyalty or she really liked you.

You now found that sleep came easier with the cats in your apartment.

The next morning, you did your routine and let the cats out as you stepped out of the apartment. Their little chirps accusing you of abandoning them for the day just about broke your heart. But the show must go on, and they weren’t your cats to begin with. You sighed and began turning the key.

“Wait…” a low voice echoed in the hallway. 

Your head whipped around to face towards the staircase. A guy stood there, eyes wide as saucers.

It took you a moment to figure out what he was looking at so intently. It wasn’t you – unless he had a thing for feet –, so it must have been the two cats standing next to you.

To your surprise, the cats seemed equally baffled to see the guy there, their chirps ending momentarily as they stared right back at him as if they’d seen a shadow of their dark past.

“This is where you guys were the whole night?” the guy finally spoke, finally relaxing his posture and frown. 

As your eyes adjusted to the light, you found yourself in awe. This man looked like someone straight off a coming of age film poster. Did someone this good-looking really live in this complex?

No. There was no way. You would remember this face. He must have been visiting someone on the 6th floor. 

But then… why would he care about the cats?

“Do you live here?” you blurted out without much thinking, barely able to keep yourself from slapping a hand over your mouth right after. “Sorry, that was kind of rude. I–”

He chuckled. “I live upstairs, in 6A.” Your knees almost buckled when he walked over to you, picking up one of the cats. “And these guys, they live with me.”

Your mouth felt incredibly dry. “They’re your cats then?”

“Yep,” he nodded and fondly scratched the black cat under the chin, “raised this one myself. Her name is Rocket.”

You really didn’t mean to snort at the name. “Your cat’s name is Rocket?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered by your evident judgement. “I like it, she likes it, … my roommate likes it a bit too much.”

“Roommate?” 

Now you put the two and two together: the elusive pair of guys in the rooftop apartment, 6A. The guys that were rarely seen outside the apartment because they – or so it was rumoured by Seungkwan and Mingyu – were unapologetic introverts. That would explain why you had never seen this guy in all your months of living here.

“What were you guys doing here?” he asked the cats so softly you barely heard it. He never once ceased to scratch them. “I was all worried the whole night and here you guys are, cozying up to the pretty neighbour.”

You wondered if it was always this hot in the hallway. When was the last time somebody opened a window here? Maybe you needed to go out and get some fresh air. 

“Oh, right!” You slapped your own forehead and locked the door, giving it one last tug to check if you had really finished the task, before dashing down the stairs. 

“It was nice to meet you!” you called over your shoulder all the while running. You’d be damned if you were late to work because of a man and his cats. 

Once you were out of his line of sight and out of the building, you paused for a moment. The moment replayed in your head like a broken record and you slapped your cheeks to wake yourself. Why did you have to be so damn awkward?

You couldn’t help but sulk as the reality sank in on your way to work. 

“I didn’t even ask for his name.”

A week passed without the two cats. An uncharacteristically depressing and boring and long week. 

You had grown so used to their chirps and meows every other day. You had even bought a new bag of treats for them like you always did on Thursdays – even though the old one was still half-full.

When you made your way home after a walk on Saturday and saw a lump on your doorstep, you froze. Anxious hope filled you as you inspected it from afar. One step, two steps… On the third step, your anxiety turned into joy. 

“Rocket!” you called out to her sweetly and rushed over to pet her head. She purred at your touch. “I was starting to fear you moved or something.”

She only meowed in explanation and stretched while you unlocked the door. She was in before you could even fully open the door – you laughed at the familiarity of it all. Even if it was just Rocket with no sign of the other cat, you were glad to have this moment.

You gave her treats and food before bringing your soft blanket to the sofa so you could commence your favourite Saturday activity: cuddling your neighbour’s cats while watching whichever TV show called to you the most. 

It seemed that Rocket was just as glad to partake in the routine. She jumped into your lap before you could even turn the TV on, already purring and kneading the fabric. Maybe she missed you as much as you missed her.

Would her owner be mad if you stole her from him?

You shook the thought out of your head and pressed play on your show. The familiar atmosphere and routine were exactly what you needed to relax after a long week.

Then, just as you reached the halfway point of the first episode, a knock sounded on your door. You decided to ignore it at first – the show was just getting good – but then a second knock sounded, a little louder.

With a sigh, you gently lifted Rocket off you – not before she could accusingly meow at you – and headed for the door. The door opened to reveal her handsome owner.

“Hi,” he started somewhat awkwardly, lifting a hand to give you something similar to a wave, “is my cat here?”

You didn’t really want to give Rocket back, honestly. But you reminded yourself that you were a law-abiding citizen and nodded. Still – maybe you could use this situation to fix a different mistake.

“I’ll give you your cat if you give me your name,” you told him. 

His eyes widened at those words. “I– What?” He laughed in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

You nodded. “You can’t expect me to give Rocket to a stranger, can you?”

He seemed to contemplate for a moment, his brows furrowing in thought. “You… don’t know my name?” Seeing you shake your head, his frown deepened. “How? We’ve been neighbours for months.”

“I know almost everyone in this block,” you informed him, “so, it’s clearly not my fault. Maybe you’re just too introverted.”

“... Fair.” He straightened his back and turned his frown into a smile. “Hi, I’m Vernon from 6A. 

You smiled back brightly. “Hi, I’m–”

“(Y/n) from 5D, I know,” he finished for you before even realising what he said. When the realisation hit, he matched your wide eyes and began spouting apologies: “Oh, I don’t mean like I’m a stalker or anything– I just– I swear I don’t–”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his awkward ramblings. Without another word, you opened the door wider and invited him in with a small gesture of your hand. He breathed out in relief and wandered inside, almost immediately zeroing in on the black ball of fur on your sofa. 

“Rocket,” he called to her. The cat’s ear twitched but she made no move to look at him. He sighed. “Rocket!” Still nothing. He turned to you with an apologetic look. “She’s usually more cooperative.”

“I’m sure she’s just very comfy,” you told him with a chuckle. “Her belly’s full and the blanket’s soft, so she’s probably just being lazy.”

Vernon’s brows furrowed again. “You fed her?”

“I always do.” You shrugged. “It’s either that or she steals the cheese off my sandwiches. I chose the lesser evil.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement. “Clever.”

With that, he toed off his shoes and walked over to the cat, picking her up. The cat didn’t seem to like the handling much, lowly growling before settling against his chest. Vernon made a show of bouncing her before looking at you somewhat accusingly, “So that’s why she’s been getting so heavy.”

You had no excuses. 

He laughed again. “It’s fine. It’s not like I’ve been saving on treats either.” As he put on his shoes again, his cat in his arms, he told you, “I’m sorry she got out again, by the way. I thought I cat-proofed our apartment, but she’s clearly smarter than I am. I’ll try to figure something out. Sorry again, for the inconvenience.” 

Then, with a friendly “goodnight!”, Vernon was gone again, and Rocket with him. Back to lonely weekend depression you fell.

When another week passed without a cat nor a boyfriend, you reached a conclusion: it was time for a pet. 

On your day off, you walked to the pet store and headed straight for the rodent cages and fish aquariums. The small animals scurried and swam around in their enclosures, perhaps hoping you’d choose them. 

But you were hesitating. After ten minutes of just watching them, contemplating if you were more of a hamster or a rat girl, you sighed and gave up. Sure, a rodent would be a good beginner pet, but, god, you missed the cat.

With a defeated frown, you turned around to leave. Without looking at where you were going, you walked into a warm body. Stumbling back in surprise, you began rambling apologies. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” a familiar laugh sounded. You looked up from the floor to sigh in relief when you recognised Vernon. He offered a wave and a smile. “You okay? You seemed pretty deep in thought.” 

You shrugged. “Just contemplating my options, I guess.”

“Options?” Vernon wondered and adjusted the bag of cat food in his arms. He glanced at the cages behind you before understanding dawned on him. “Are you thinking of getting a hamster?”

“Or maybe a chinchilla,” you half-joked. “They seem pretty cuddly too.”

“Oh.” His smile dropped as realisation hit him hard. “You liked having Rocket visit you, didn’t you? I stole your cuddle buddy. I’m sorry.”

For someone who you had formally only known for a week, Vernon was awfully good at reading your mind. You decided to ignore the thought and nodded, trying to seem as playful as you could. “I’m a little mad at you, actually.”

“Can I…make it up to you?” he wondered after a moment, eyes sparkling. 

For a moment, you contemplated telling him a date would be a great compensation. It wouldn’t hurt to shoot your shot, right? And then you could maybe have both: a boyfriend and a cat to cure your loneliness. A double win!

But before you could find the courage to even jokingly ask your handsome neighbour out, Vernon came up with his own idea: “You know, I volunteer at a cat shelter in the city. I’m going there tomorrow, actually. Maybe you’d like to come along? Sort of like a date, if you want.” He mistook your silent processing for hesitation, short of rejection, and quickly added, “Maybe you’ll even a find yourself a cat there. Who knows? Doesn’t hurt to try, right?”

You couldn’t have said yes fast enough.

“Ta-da!” Vernon cheered somewhat monotonously as you stepped into the shelter after him. “Welcome to Kiki’s Cat House.”

As he led you further into the lobby, he continued, “I’ve been volunteering here for years. It’s like a second family, honestly.”

“So, where are all the cats?” You looked around the empty room: only a counter, some shelves, a houseplant and beanbags. 

He chuckled at your impatience before taking your hand – you tried really hard to not think about the gesture – and leading you into a hallway. There, he opened a door, revealing a room full of spacious cages. 

“This is where we keep the spicy, the grumpy, the horny and the antisocial,” he explained as you walked into the room. “They’re gonna take some socialising before we can let them hang out with the other cats, but we’re trying our best. Some of them are just plain assholes, though. This one—” he accusingly pointed at a scruffy orange one-eyed cat, “tried to take my hand off last month. I had to get stitches.”

“Sounds painful.” 

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sure he’s had to go through a worse life than I. I forgave him this time.” 

After letting you wander and look around for a while, he nudged you. “Do you want to go see where the fun happens?”

“And by ‘fun’ you mean…?”

He chuckled, took your hand again and led you to a room across the hall. Your jaw dropped at the sheer amount of cats wandering around the cosy room. Some were napping on a sofa. Others were climbing on carefully crafted carpeted shelves on the walls. A fluffy grey cat rushed to meet the two of you – or just Vernon, most likely – and chirped cheerfully as your companion crouched down to give her endless head pats. 

“Hello there, June,” he greeted with a smile and picked up the cat, straightening back to his full height while holding her to his chest. “She’s kind of new here but she’s a cuddly one.”

When he leaned a little closer to you, you took the invitation to raise your hand and scratch under the cat’s chin. She let out a loud purr at your actions, all the while kneading the fabric of Vernon’s grey hoodie.

“Who knows,” he mumbled, “maybe you’ll want to take her home at the end of the day?”

You chuckled. “It sounds like you have an agenda.”

“Yeah – I need you to stop overfeeding my and my roommate’s cats,” he joked. “They’re chubby as it is.”

“They’re the perfect cuddle size,” you argued. 

Vernon offered you a playful glare. “Do you want to tell that to my vet the next time I’m taking them for a check-up? I got scolded last time.”

You laughed. “Alright. Fair. I’ll try to give them less treats the next time they visit. Is the white cat your roommate’s then?”

While waiting for his answer, you crouched down to offer your hand to a black-and-white cat passing by. He gave your fingers a sniff, did a little twirl before pressing his head against your palm for a moment, and then continued on his journey to the food bowls. 

Vernon watched him closely, probably already making a list of tasks to accomplish before leaving, and answered absent-mindedly, “Yeah. Snowflake. Jun got him from this shelter. I got Rocket from here too. That’s Kiki, by the way. He’s the shelter’s mascot.”

“And here I was hoping he could be the one,” you joked, already reaching out to another curious cat. 

Vernon smiled at you before placing June down onto the floor again. “I’m sure we’ll find your perfect cat. Don’t worry.” As he was crouching next to you, his eyes searched the room for familiar faces. His eyes lit up all of a sudden. “Mango!”

“Mango?” you wondered.

He nodded enthusiastically before practically crawling over to a cardboard box with a door hole on its side. Curious, you followed after him, your heart melting when you saw exactly what had caught your neighbour’s attention: a calico cat lying in the box, on a yellow fleece blanket, nursing two adorable kittens – a black one with white socks and a fluffy orange one. The mother let out a little purr when Vernon reached over to pet her head. 

“She had kittens last month,” he whispered as if to not disturb her peace. He glanced around. “I guess the other cats aren’t troubling them too much, otherwise the staff wouldn’t have let her back here.”

“They’re so tiny,” you whispered, eyes sparkling at the sight. “I didn’t realise kittens could be so small.”

“They’re already pretty big, actually,” he chuckled. “You should’ve seen them when they were born. I could’ve fit both of them in my palm.” After another minute of watching the mother and her children, Vernon nudged your side. “Come on, we have work to do. If you do your chores, maybe she’ll let you play with them.”

“Yes, dad,” you joked and joined him in the tasks. But even as you busied yourself, you couldn’t stop looking back towards the box. You had fallen in love with the sweet Mango. 

As if, once again, reading your mind, Vernon smiled at you empathetically. “If you want to adopt Mango, you’ll have to take the kittens too. Or wait a little. They should be old enough to be adopted in less than two months.”

You pouted; you weren’t sure you could handle three cats. For the rest of the little date, even Vernon’s blatant flirting and adorable smiles couldn’t cheer you up and bring you out of your thoughts. And so, you left the shelter with a regretful heart. 

“You know,” Vernon tried to cheer you up on the way back, “if you want, you can adopt all three of them. Kittens aren’t too difficult to raise. She’ll do most of the work.”

“But I don’t know if I’m ready for that responsibility,” you whispered dejectedly as you slumped into the seat of the bus. “Three cats is a lot more than one.”

“Well,” he sighed softly and reached over to hold your hand, “if you change your mind, I’d be happy to help you bring them home.”

Little did he know the feeling of his hand in yours, fingers interlocked, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, was enough to distract you from your thoughts. 

The gnawing regret in your heart did not go away until Wonwoo and Eunmi drove you to the shelter three days later. The engaged couple was more than enthusiastic to help you bring Mango and her kittens home.

You had planned on calling Vernon and inviting him along too, but in the excitement of this new step, you completely forgot. Instead of him, you had turned to Wonwoo, Eunmi and Jihoon (the grumpy guy from 1B) who had all pitched in to help you get your apartment cat-ready. It was the three of them that had encouraged you to take this step anyway – it was only fair that they help.

And now, on this Saturday evening, you could cuddle with your very own cat as a drama played on the TV. You couldn’t stop smiling at the fact that she already trusted you enough to snuggle with you under the blanket, hidden from view, and let her kittens wander around your bedroom without supervision. Who knows, you thought, maybe she’s trying to rest from the responsibilities of motherhood. You couldn’t blame her.

Then, like déjà-vu, a knock sounded on your front door in the midway point of the first episode. Unwilling to leave your comfortable spot, you tried to ignore it. A second knock sounded louder, this time followed by Vernon’s voice, “Hey, can I come in?”

You sighed and called out, “The door’s unlocked.”

“Is it?” he wondered and tried the knob. To his surprise, the door opened immediately. He frowned. “Dude, I don’t think that’s safe. Do you always leave your door unlocked like this?”

He closed the door behind himself and walked into the apartment, keeping his eyes down. 

You chuckled. “No, do you think I’m stupid? Wonwoo and Eunmi only left a little while ago – I didn’t get around to locking the door after them. Was a little preoccupied.”

He hummed, still not looking at you as he untied his shoes. 

“So,” your eyes narrowed at him, “what brings you to my humble abode?”

“Uh,” he sighed deeply and looked up, “I came to tell you something. I… I got a call from the shelter. They said that…” His frown deepened at the way your eyes sparkled with what he assumed must have been hope. “They said that Mango and her kittens got adopted today. I’m sorry," he breathed out, eyes sad as he cautiously watched you, as if afraid of your reaction. When you only shrugged and nodded, his brows furrowed even more. “Aren’t you upset? I thought you wanted to adopt her yourself…”

It was only then that you realised you had, in fact, forgotten to call him and tell him your plan. He must have thought you'd be heartbroken at the news. Maybe he had even asked the people at the shelter to keep Mango for you. Suddenly, your heart ached at the sight of his sorrowful expression. “Vernon…”

“It’s okay, though,” he quickly interrupted. “We can always go and see if you like any of the other cats." You couldn't find the words to say and once again he took your silence for sadness and rushed to comfort you. "Actually, there’s this girl called Citrus. I’m sure you would like her too. We could go see her tomorrow, if you wanted.” You remained silent, trying to figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry at his thoughtfulness. “(Y/n)?”

You couldn’t take it any more. Instead of saying anything, you gestured for him to come over to you on the sofa. Obediently, he followed your orders and approached you, sitting down next to you. 

Once he was seated, you took his hand and led it over to where your cat was snuggled into your stomach under the yellow blanket. Vernon’s brows shot up in surprise.

“Is Rocket here again? I swear she was at home…”

You laughed and rolled down the blanket to reveal two pointy ears, one grey and one orange. His jaw dropped as he reached over to pet her head. Eyes shining, he asked, “You got a cat?”

“Not just any cat,” you told him in a conspiratorial whisper and rolled the blanket down even further until he recognised her calico pattern. 

He gasped. “Mango!”

You giggled at his reaction and the way he immediately leaned down to coo at her, her purrs getting louder by the second. 

“So,” he realised, smiling brightly, “it was you who adopted her!”

You nodded proudly and gave her a little scratch on the back. “I couldn’t stand the thought of just leaving her there. So, Wonwoo drove me to the shelter and we brought her to her new home. She seems pretty happy to be here.”

“She’s already cuddling with you,” he mused. “It took me weeks to get Rocket to even let me pet her.”

“Maybe she was waiting for me,” you whispered, happy at the thought. 

“And the kittens?” he suddenly wondered, sitting up straight. You pointed to your bedroom door. 

“Jihoon and I spent the entire morning kitten-proofing my room so we could let them loose there. But I’m sure they’ve gotten to some trouble already.”

Vernon frowned, seeming almost offended. “You called Jihoon but not me?”

“I was going to call you,” you swore, “but it’s been an exciting day so I just–”

“Have you named the kittens yet?” he changed the subject suddenly, as if the previous topic bothered him too much to even consider talking about it. “I don’t think the shelter staff gave them names yet.”

You smiled. “Well, the black one is called Socks.”

“... Because of his white socks?”

“Obviously,” you nodded. “And the ginger one's called Peaches – I guess Jihoon wanted to keep her name on theme.”

“Jihoon named her?” Vernon seemed surprised before nodding. “They’re both very cute names.”

“You can go and play with them, if you want,” you offered with a smile, hoping to cheer him up because he still seemed a little out of it. “Or you can bring them here for a cuddle. I don’t mind.”

“Nah,” he sighed and reached over to pet Mango again, “I’m sure they’re sleeping already. Wouldn’t want to bother them.”

Your lips pouted at his dejected tone. “Do you… want to watch a movie with me? We can cuddle Mango together.”

He lips curled into a half-smile at the idea. “I’d love that.”

“Great,” you cheered, “you can pick the movie.”

(And perhaps he wasn’t as good at picking out movies as he would’ve liked to think: you were leaning against his shoulder in a sleepy haze half-way through the movie. 

Still, he couldn’t be mad at you – not when he’d been waiting for a moment like this ever since he saw you step into the building on a Monday ten months ago. He’d been smitten ever since he saw your smile for the first time – even if the smile had been directed at Jihoon giving you the apartment key instead of him hiding behind Mingyu in the hallway.

Even though he’d wanted to watch this movie for weeks, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering over to you instead: resting against his side, curled up in your blanket with Mango spread over your lap, a dazed smile on your face as you stared at the screen.

Feeling his gaze on you, you twisted your neck to look up at him from your position that made you seem impossibly smaller than him – even if your height difference was minimal to none in reality. Your smile never faded as you looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Your new position had your nose brush against his ever so slightly, but it didn’t seem to affect you as much as it did him – at least not in your sleepy daze. He wasn’t sure how you could look so peacefully cheerful while he worried his heart might break out of his rib cage at your proximity.

His eyes flitted between your eyes and your lips; he was hesitating. Just one lean and he could cross another dream off his list. Less than an inch. 

He gulped and tore his gaze away, forcing it to focus back on the screen. You soon settled back into your previous position, your head on his shoulder, cheek pressed against his collarbone. He closed his eyes and willed his heart to slow down before it betrayed him.)

Your blissfully calm day was once again interrupted by a knock on the door. You sighed and made your way to the source of the sound. 

“Coming, coming,” you called out to the person on the other side. When you unlocked the door and finally saw him, you couldn’t help but smile. “Why is it always you?”

Vernon could only offer a shrug and a hopeless smile. “You don’t seem too bothered by it though.”

“Don’t tell Rocket, but,” you leaned in closer to whisper, “you’re my favourite visitor.”

He grinned wider at that, his ears taking on a red shade, before he cleared his throat. “Um, so, speaking of Rocket…”

He didn’t need to speak another word because you knew exactly where this was going. You sighed. “Did she get out again?” He nodded. “Do you need help finding her?”

“No, I just assumed she’d be here,” he answered, smile dropping into a worried frown. “She isn’t?”

“I definitely haven’t seen her today.”

“Can you check?” he asked, looking nervous all of a sudden. Sensing your confusion, he quickly added, “Just in case? She’s good at hiding so maybe she’s snuck past you or something.”

You agreed and let him inside – if nothing else, it was at least an excuse to spend time with him. He only made it barely halfway through your apartment before letting out an excited cheer: “There you are!”

You blinked in surprise. “Found her?”

“Found her and you’re gonna want to see this,” he called back before just about running (or, really, speed walking) over to you. 

As you watched him with wide eyes, he took your hand and practically dragged you over to your bedroom. And there, low and behold, cosily snuggled up on the bed with your own cats was Rocket. 

You sighed and offered Vernon a half-accusatory glare. “Is she your cat or mine?”

He shrugged. “I’d like to think she’s mine but– Aw, she’s cleaning the kittens!”

You watched the four cats snuggle even closer together, like a little family: the adults cleaning the kittens who let out accusatory meows and happy purrs. It made you almost jealous in a way. 

“How did she even get in?” you wondered to distract yourself from the fact that you were clearly severely touch-starved.

“How did she get out?” Vernon mumbled in similar disbelief before sighing. His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Now I feel bad about bringing her home.”

You nodded. “They’re getting along so well. It’s weird, almost.”

“Yeah,” his brows furrowed in thought, “I thought they’d for sure get in a fight the first time they met. Are you sure this is her first time here since Mango came?”

“If it isn’t, I certainly was not aware of the other times.”

Vernon breathed out a little huff before nudging you. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No, why?”

A shy smile appeared. “We could eat together. I mean, Rocket doesn’t seem to have any plans for leaving, and I’m not leaving without her, so…”

“Well, if Mingyu’s words are anything to go by, I am not letting you into my kitchen,” you declared with a chuckle as his face morphed into a grimace of offended disbelief. “I’m serious. I heard you almost burnt down his apartment once.”

“In my defence–!” he loudly started before sighing and nodding. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

You laughed and nudged his side. “Come on, you can help me make cookies.”

Dumbfounded, he raised a brow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed in your kitchen.”

“Consider it a trial period. Besides, it’s not like you have anything better to do right now.” 

(He didn’t have the heart to tell you he had a whole report due by the next day that he hadn’t even started yet. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make if it meant more time with you.)

[hey, do u have a cat tree yet?]

[this is vernon btw]

[i’ll take ur silence as a no]

You didn’t get around to answering his messages before he appeared at your door once again, this time carrying a giant IKEA bag on his shoulder. His trusty (but clearly not very loyal) companion Rocket stood at his feet also and greeted you with a meow, which Vernon was quick to mimic with a smile.

“Hello, you two,” you greeted with a laugh. “What’s with the IKEA bag?”

“Child support,” he told you simply and walked inside like he owned the place. He placed the giant bag in your kitchen and turned to smile at you brightly, proud of his work. When you only offered him a quizzical smile, he explained, “Food. A lot of cat food.”

You continued staring at him, absolutely confused. “But they’re not your kittens?”

He gestured towards Rocket who had jumped onto one of the kitchen chairs, patiently waiting for her treats. “Well, she seems to disagree, so here: at least a month’s worth of cat food.”

“I’m guessing you don’t accept returns?” He shook his head no. “Money?” He shook his head again, more aggressively, and you sighed. “Thank you, then. I’ll be sure to put the food to good use.”

“Good, because I’d honestly be a little upset if you didn’t,” he confessed before walking back out of your apartment, leaving the door open. 

You looked after him in wonder before turning to Rocket. “Should I be worried?”

Before the cat could give you a conclusive answer aside from a tired blink, you heard a grunt in your hallway. 

When you went to look, you found Vernon carrying an enormous cardboard box your way. He placed it down with a tired gasp and gave it an affectionate pat. “Your cat tree, Your Highness.”

“You–” Your jaw dropped. Not a single thought in sight; only a laugh of disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” He smirked. “You didn’t get my messages?”

“Oh, I got your messages,” you argued, “but I didn’t think you meant this. Where did you even get this thing? It looks like it’s going to be huge.”

He shrugged. “I have a friend.”

“A friend who gives out free giant cat trees?” you wondered. 

He nodded somewhat hesitantly, his eyes narrowed in thought. “He does that sometimes, yeah. So,” he gave the box another pat, “shall we assemble it?”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” you mumbled and opened the box, already eyeing the pieces of furniture in horror. “Please tell me you’ll help put this together?”

He scoffed. “You don’t trust me in the kitchen and I don’t trust you with a screwdriver. So, yeah, I’m gonna stick around and build this for you.”

Just ten minutes later, all of the pieces of the cat tree were out of the box and waiting on your floor. The box itself had already been turned onto its side and occupied by a quartet of fluffy cats, only their eyes shining out of the darkness as they scrutinised Vernon slowly assembling their new home. 

“So,” you started, while (much like your cats) watching him in fascination, “what’s the real reason?”

He glanced up, eyes wide. “For what?”

You gestured vaguely.

“I’m just trying to be nice,” he shrugged and turned back to his task. 

“No one’s just this nice.”

“Maybe I am,” he mumbled.

“Vernon,” you tried again, reaching over to place your hand on his own, effectively pausing his movements, “why did you get me a cat tree? There’s no way you got this giant thing for free either, so the least you could do is at least tell me the truth.”

"I just–" Shoulders slumping, he took a deep breath before confessing, “Hearing you talk about how Wonwoo and Jihoon helped you bring the cats home and kitten-proof the bedroom and how they named the kittens– I just want to help too.” He frowned and sighed. “I just want you to be able to gush about me the way you talked about Wonwoo and Jihoon. Is that weird?” He grimaced before you could say anything. “Yeah, it’s weird. Very weird. But… I don’t know. That’s just how I feel.”

He forced a smile onto his face and finally looked you in the eyes. “Let me put it this way: I want to be an active part of your life and of this journey of yours. So, please, just… Just let me do this.”

Without another word, he turned back to his project. As if he hadn’t just spoken words that would leave you speechless for hours. But despite not finding anything to say to him, a squeeze to his hand still resting under yours had to be enough until you could give him the world. 

Just like you, he barely said another word until he left the apartment, leaving behind a finished black cat tree. You wouldn’t hear from him again for days.

Vernon knew alcohol didn’t fix problems: it didn’t make anything disappear, it didn’t make anyone less upset, and it certainly wouldn’t magically give him the confidence to confess. But that knowledge didn’t stop him from going over to Chan’s apartment for a Friday night drink after three days of acting like you didn’t exist. 

It’s not like he wanted to ignore you – really, he wanted to do anything but that. He watched enviously as Rocket slipped out of the door and down the stairs, headed straight for your apartment. He watched from afar as the black cat scratched at your door and meowed insistently before you opened the door and happily greeted her. He watched as you glanced around after, as if hoping to get a glance at him who had hidden behind the corner, afraid that he’d say something stupid if your eyes did meet. 

He tried to tell himself that perhaps the silence that had followed his kind-of-sort-of confession three days ago hadn’t been one of disgust but rather of endearment. He didn’t dare to hope though. It was easier to just act like none of it happened. 

After all, how embarrassing is it to buy a girl a cat tree and assemble it out of jealousy for your neighbours? 

So, he drank. Shot after shot. Enough so that Chan and Seungkwan worriedly wrapped him in his jacket and gently led him back up the stairs. He vaguely remembered the latter sweetly reminding him that his apartment is on the 6th floor; not that he’d ever make it there.

Instead, to his own surprise (and the chagrin of his formerly sober self), he found himself standing in front of the door of 5D. 

Without even acknowledging his actions, he raised his hand to knock on the door. Following a rhythm like always – just so you’d know it was him and not a stranger – he kept knocking until he heard your footsteps on the other side of the wall. 

You opened the door and he blinked. Why was he here again?

“Vern?” you wondered, yawning. You glanced back at the clock on your living room wall before turning to him. “It’s like 2 am. What’s up?”

He wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. His eyes were fully focused on your lips, so pouty and so, so soft. He suddenly remembered what had brought him to your door.

Growing worried as his silence, you waved a hand in front of his eyes to catch his attention. “Hey, did something hap–?”

Before you could finish your sentence, he leaned forward. Perhaps alcohol had, in fact, given him the courage he needed because he didn’t hesitate this time. He just leaned forward. It was so easy: one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, the other lifting to hold your cheek as he pressed his lips against yours just like he’d imagined for so many weeks now. 

It was as if the touch of your lips alone sobered him up and he leaned back almost immediately, eyes wide in panic. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

But you weren’t mad – a little annoyed, perhaps, but mad at him? You didn’t have it in you to do that. You only laughed a little as he rambled apologies, his hands still in position because he wasn’t yet sober enough to realise, and then you took the leap. 

You lifted a hand to grab the material of his shirt just below the collar and pulled him back towards you, all the way until his lips were against yours again. He melted into your affection, only pulling you closer as each second passed, unwilling to let this moment end.

When you finally pulled back, he was wearing a dopey smile, his half-lidded eyes sparkling with joy. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Mad at you?” you wondered and scoffed out a laugh. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I’m a dumb jealous–” He cut himself off mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as something behind you caught his attention. “Is that Rocket?”

You followed his line of sight before humming in confirmation. “Yeah, I thought you let her out in the evening.”

“I never–” he began to argue before pausing. “Oh, I did. I did let her out. I watched you let her in. Oh.”

You stared at him. “On a scale from one to ten, how drunk are you right now?”

He frowned before whining. “I’m not drunk!”

“Vernon,” you said sternly, watching him in amusement as his frown softened into a tired pout and he nodded before confessing that he’d probably had a shot or two too many. You chuckled. “Do you want to stay over?

“I don’t want to intrude…”

“You woke me up at 2 am to kiss me dumb,” you reminded him, “I think we’re past the whole intruding debate. So, yes or no?”

He didn’t say another word, instead opting to lean closer to rest his head against your shoulder and hold you tight. You took that as the answer and led him inside.

For the first time in heavens-know-how-long, it’s the smell of waffles that wakes him up instead of Junhui’s shower singing. To his mild confusion, Vernon realises he’s woken up in your bed. Then, after a quick attempt of taming his bed hair, he stumbles out of your bedroom and over to the kitchen.

“Welcome back to life, Sunshine,” you joked at the sight of him as he slumped in your kitchen chair. The clock on the wall read 1:25 pm.

“Did I–” He frowned in confusion. “Did I sleep over?”

“You also got drunk, woke me up at 2 am, and kissed me,” you informed him with a teasing smile. His face flushed red immediately and he let out a whine before hiding his face in his hands. 

It was a whole minute later that he dared to finally look at you again. “I’m sorry… Do you hate me?”

“Nope,” you said and placed a plate full of waffles in front of him before placing your finger under his chin and tilting it to affectionately kiss his lips. His eyes fluttered closed at the contact and  memories of the previous night flooded his brain: the shared kisses, the hushed promises of real confessions, cuddles in your bed with Rocket and Mango trying to separate the two of you in a selfish pursuit of extra warmth.

When he opened his eyes again, stars seemed to be swimming in them as you confessed, “I quite like you actually.”

“I… I like you too,” he whispered back a fondly kept secret. “I’ve liked you since you first moved in – when you smiled at me because I helped Joshua carry your sofa up.”

It was your turn to feel a flustered burn on your cheeks. 

The two of you spoke no more, basking in the blissful moment of acknowledgement, trying to wrap your heads around the implications of it all as you ate brunch together, side by side. 

Rocket soon joined the two of you, yawning as she jumped onto her owner’s lap before looking at you with a look you knew all too well. You scoffed out a laugh and got up to fill her bowl. “I swear she’s going to eat me poor.”

Vernon chuckled. “You know, I think she’s here more than at home these days.” He smiled fondly at the sight of you petting Rocket’s head. When you finally joined him at the table again, he added, “ It’s like she’s decided she’s yours now.”

You saw the opportunity and took it. “You could be mine too.”

He could only smile and hide his burning cheeks. A laugh bubbled in his chest and before long he burst into joyous giggles: “This is the best morning of my entire life.”

“So, is that a no?” you teased, leaning closer to him. Tempting him.

Vernon was done hesitating. “I’d love to be yours.”

BONUS!

“I’m going to miss them so much,” you whispered, holding Peaches to your chest protectively. The orange kitten, like her brother, had grown big enough to go to a new home. 

Vernon could only sigh as he watched you cuddle the kittens. “Baby, you will still have Mango.” An accusatory meow sounded from his side. He quickly added, “And Rocket is here too!”

“But the kittens won’t be,” you whined and pouted at him as if he was the person you’d have to convince to keep them. “It’s not the same.”

Vernon fought the urge to roll his eyes. “They’re going to be living in the same building as us, baby. You can visit them whenever you want.”

“No offence but I’m not climbing all the way to the 6th floor to see Socks,” you argued with a scoff. “I’m not even doing that for you.”

Vernon felt a little flattered at the implication that he was still more important to you than Socks.

“Maybe if you ask Wonwoo and Eunmi nice enough, they’ll bring Socks over for a play date every once in a while.”

But it was as if you hadn't heard him. “And the first floor is so far away too…”

“You can drop by Jihoon’s place any time you come home from work,” Vernon reminded you. “Please. Come on.”

“But–”

“Baby,” he spoke sternly, resting a hand on your shoulder to keep you grounded, “the kittens are going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. Mango’s going to be very happy to be freed from the shackles of motherhood – I mean, she’s been practically avoiding them all week.”

“But I’m going to miss them,” you whispered, “and the apartment’s going to feel so empty without them.”

“Well, you still have me and Rocket,” he tried to comfort you.

You frowned. “Yeah, but it’s not the same. You only visit.”

“I could… move in… with you and Rocket,” he suggested after a pause of thought. “I mean, we’re here almost all the time anyways.”

Vernon swore his knees felt weak all of a sudden when you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. “You’d do that?”

“Is that a serious question?” he joked and patted your head. “Your apartment’s, like, way better than mine. I’d be dumb not to.”

“Oh.” You seemed dejected, on purpose – not that he’d know that. 

Eyes widening, he panicked. “I didn’t mean it like that! That was a joke! It was a joke and a very bad joke at that. I just meant that I– Why are you laughing?” He frowned before whining. “Don’t laugh at me!”

[SKZ VLOG] Lee Know Log 10

DLC (2023)

warnings! talks of wanting marriage.

“seungcheol, my love, my darling, my angel —”

your boyfriend opens one eye from where he’s lying on the couch, speaking in half a grunt and half a whine. “what do you want from me?”

he’s had the longest day at work, and he’s making sure you know it — so you, biting back a smile, bend over and cup his cheek lovingly. “it’s your turn to do the dishes.”

seungcheol opens his eyes slowly, and stares at you beseechingly. you stare back, unwavering.

“let’s get a divorce,” he declares finally, throwing a dramatic arm over his eyes.

“we’re not married, cheollie,” you laugh, as you kiss his forehead.

“yet,” he corrects automatically — and both of you freeze. he slides his arm ever so slightly to the side, gauging your reaction with one peeking eye.

a thousand words are said in the glance you two share, but you only need to say one. “yet,” you agree, softly.

he does try his best, but seungcheol can’t quite hide the delighted beam that spreads across his face, curving those lips you know so well. his whole body shifts towards you, rolling on the couch so he’s on his side; you have already given up on bending over him, and are sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the sofa instead.

he looks at you for a long time, reaching out a hand to trace the bridge of your nose suddenly, smiling when you blink in surprise. “i love you,” he murmurs. “i really don’t want to do the dishes.”

you lean into his touch, kissing the tip of his finger. “i love you too. i’ve already done them.”

an / me, ignoring all the requests in my inbox to write seungcheol fluff instead. prompt from this prompt list by the way!!

taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin