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pairing: ot8!skz, bf!skz x fem!reader
tags: swearing, hurtful messages, mentions of eating + drinking, heavy angst, no comfort, established relationship
part 1 | part 2
skz masterlist
⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼 author's note - i feel bad for making them mean assholes but oh well. suffer !!
timestamp drabble in which ... it's lunchtime but your husband, seungcheol, is a bit distracted.
𐙚pairing: husband!scoups x wife!reader
𐙚content: fluff, established relationship, gamer scoups, use of pet names (babe, love, baby)
𐙚word count: 1k
a/n: not beta-read. please excuse typos & inconsistencies of verb tenses. ty
you were resting in your self-appointed assigned seat — a large chaise in the corner of the office, adjacent to a window, bathing you in the soft warm of the winter sun -- with your feet tucked under your thighs. it was one of your favorite spots in the house, perfect for mid-day naps or for spectating as your husband play video games across the room or catching up with a good book.
your eyes flit across paragraphs of the contemporary romance on your e-reader. a funny, lighthearted, easy read for a saturday afternoon.
only a few feet away, you could hear the clicks of seungcheol's keyboard and mumbled communication with teammates. over the years of sharing a home and a life, the sounds of his gaming had become an odd comfort for you. even when he got like this, so focused that you weren’t sure if he was aware you were still in the room, you enjoyed your husband’s company.
if you looked up, you would see his back to you, angled to give you a perfect view of his monitor’s screen. he was playing another shooting game that you didn’t remember the name of. his player sprinted across the field, collecting weapons and armor while shots rang in the distance. seungcheol's fingers moved deftly across his keyboard and mouse. his target aimed and zoomed as he tried to eliminate members of the opposing team.
when a sudden grumble left your stomach, you glanced at the time. you’d been splitting your attention between reading and watching seungcheol for nearly two hours. your fur baby, a tonkinese kitten, purred in your lap while pawing at the hem of your yoga pants. her favorite pastime was falling asleep in your or seungcheol’s lap while being pet and doted on.
you hadn’t eaten since breakfast earlier in the day. seungcheol had surprised with food and a warm mug of tea when you came down to the kitchen. you ate together while sharing jokes and catching up on each other’s past week, having been too busy lately to spend time together. some days, you left for work before he’d woken up. others, you’d fallen asleep waiting for him to shower and join you for a movie.
now, in the early afternoon, your body groaned for its next meal. despite how comfortable you’d become in your chair, you knew you’d have to leave to eat again soon. you could feel a slight wave of nausea creeping up the longer you went without eating. images of lunch options flashed in your mind — hamburgers, tofu soup, fried chicken, bbibimbap.
“babe?” you called. though seungcheol’s headset was on, only one ear was covered. a few seconds later, after the sound of your voice had registered to him, he responded with a distracted grunt.
"eh?"
slowly, you pushed yourself up from your seat, sliding your feet into plush blue slippers and leaving your e-reader behind. you tiptoed across the room until your hips met the back of his gaming chair. you exhaled softly as you bent over, just enough to be able to wrap your arms around his neck and rest your chin on top of his head.
“cheollie, are you almost done with this round?” you asked softly, almost a whisper.
“it just started, but it’ll be a short round. what’s up?” his fingers never stopped clicking as his brown eyes bounced from corner to corner of his monitor.
you sighed loudly, as dramatically as you could muster. seungcheol, expecting a conversation, muted his microphone. “i’m about to perish, babe. i’m nearing complete depletion of sustenance,” you drone. seungcheol, who is very used to his wife’s hyperbolic statements, says nothing. after a few seconds with no response, you try again. “we should go out for lunch.”
“okay, love. just give me a few more minutes and i’m all yours.” promises of food and uninterrupted quality time with your husband settled warmly in your stomach, giving you a buzzing feeling. or maybe that was the hunger.
“by the time you’re finished, i’ll be ready. i’m going to go get dressed.” but you made no effort to step away from him. instead, you leaned down further and began to pepper the side of his face with wet and loud kisses.
“ngh,” he groaned before a chuckle slipped out. “baby, you’re distracting me!” he scrunched his nose and tried to shrink away from your affections. but you noticed the blush creeping across his cheeks and ears.
“and you’re distracting me,” you counter, dropping your hands to his chest then his biceps, fingertips meeting skin past the hem of his cut-off sleeves. “have you been lifting more at the gym?”
you feel him flex his muscles beneath your fingertips, entertaining your ogling, before he’s encouraging you to leave and get ready for your lunch outing. seungcheol unmuted his headset as you walked away, yelling commands that floated down the hall.
—
no less than twenty minutes later, you settle your sunglasses on your head and double-check that you’ve grabbed your phone before leaving your bedroom.
seungcheol is already waiting by the door, perched on the back of the couch. “ready?” he extends his right hand toward you, clasping his palm against yours. he pulls you to stand between his thighs and on instinct, you wrap your arms around his neck. your husband’s large hands find your waist and settle there with a familiar grip.
seungcheol leans in and places a soft kiss against your lips. you savor the warmth of his rosy lips on yours only for a moment. when you pull away, his lips chase yours, never satisfied with just one kiss. “i love you,” he mumbled, his breath mingling with your own.
“i love you, to-“ your stomach grumbled again, louder than earlier, interrupting your affections. seungcheol’s eyes shone with amusement as he barked out a laugh. quickly, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, quieting to giggles.
“can we go now?” you roll your eyes. “since my aching hunger is so funny to you,” you tease, “a large bowl of bbibimbap is calling my name.”
“lead the way.”
✎ᝰ.
a/n 2: finally something to upload!! HAPPY COUPSIE MONTH! i got this idea back in april, watching the 260414 couplay (10/10 bday present for me) and finally took time to realize it.
if even one person enjoys this, then it was worth posting. thank you for reading ♡
your boyfriend has never given you a reason to doubt him. but, lately, things have just been a little bit... off? (commissioned!!!)
this was commissioned as part of donations made to philippine typhoon relief efforts!!! › scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
the familiar weverse live countdown faded away almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a slightly crooked view of a cream-colored sofa and the edge of a coffee table. the phone had clearly been balanced in a hurry.
for a few seconds, nobody was in frame. muted voices drifted in from somewhere nearby.
“…is it already on?”
“i don’t know.”
“you don’t know?”
“i pressed the button it should be on.”
“…han.”
“what?”
“you were supposed to check.”
“i thought you were checking.”
a second later, jeonghan leaned into view first. his face filled almost the entire screen as he squinted at the phone, brows pinched together in concentration. he looked unusually casual, dressed in a loose charcoal hoodie with his hair falling naturally over his forehead. there wasn’t a trace of styling left from whatever schedules he had finished earlier that day. his expression remained serious for exactly three seconds before he noticed the comments already flooding the screen.
“oh.” a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “i think we’re live.”
behind him, luna let out an incredulous laugh. “you think?”
she walked into frame carrying a large mug with both hands, still wearing fuzzy cream-colored slippers that shuffled softly across the wooden floor. her oversized beige knit cardigan hung loosely over a white tank top and gray lounge shorts, her hair gathered into a messy bun that looked like it had been tied up without much thought. a few loose strands framed her face, making her look more like she’d just gotten comfortable for the evening than someone about to appear in front of hundreds of thousands of viewers.
“you really started it without checking.”
“i wanted it to start authentically.”
she stared at him. “…authentically confusing?”
“i think it’s charming.”
she couldn’t help smiling. “you always say that after doing something questionable.”
jeonghan laughed quietly. “it works every time.”
by now, the viewer count was climbing so quickly that neither of them bothered trying to read the number anymore. the comments were moving too fast.
“oh my god they’re live?!!?!!?” “mom and dad are live together again!!” “everyone wake up.” “hello! my loves, i miss you two so much” “they look like my parents.”
luna finally sat down beside him, carefully setting her mug onto the coffee table before pulling one leg underneath herself. she glanced at the screen and immediately laughed. “there’s already so many of you.” she gave the camera a little wave. “hi.”
jeonghan mirrored the gesture. “hello.”
luna looked between the comments and the camera, smiling wider with every passing second.“it’s been a while.”
“it has,” jeonghan agreed softly.
“we honestly weren’t planning to go live tonight,” luna admitted. “we were just… we were just having some tea and thought it might be nice to say hello.”
luna leaned back, her shoulder pressing against jeonghan’s. “actually, he insisted,” she added, glancing at him. “he said the fans were probably wondering if i’d finally gotten tired of him after he came back from service.”
jeonghan tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “i didn’t say that. i said they were wondering if you’d managed to keep the house in one piece without me.”
“you’re the one who breaks things, hannie.”
“i don’t break things. i explore the limits of their durability.”
luna rolled her eyes, but her hand found his, their fingers interlocking naturally on the sofa. she turned back to the screen, squinting at the rapid-fire text.
“someone is asking where we’ve been,” luna read. “‘where did you guys go? you disappeared for a few weeks!’”
jeonghan hummed, a small, secretive smile playing on his lips. he squeezed her hand. “we just needed some quiet. you know how it is. a little bit of something... refreshing.”
“refreshing?” luna laughed, the sound light and airy. “is that what we’re calling it?”
“it was very refreshing,” he murmured, leaning closer until his temple rested against hers.
“hope you guys are well rested and refreshed!” “they have the same smile help” “look at the way he’s holding her hand i’m actually sobbing” “stop being cute i have a heart condition” “where were you, besties spill the tea”
“we were just... around,” jeonghan said, his voice smooth and maddeningly vague. “visiting family. taking walks. sleeping in.”
“he slept a lot,” luna told the camera. “i think he tried to make up for all the sleep he missed in his service in one single month.”
“it’s called recovery, nana-ya. my body needed to recalibrate.”
“you’re a drama queen. you didn’t even do the regular service.”
“but i’m your drama queen, right?”
luna let out a soft huff and shifted, leaning her head on his shoulder. “anyway, we really missed you all. how have you been? are you eating well? please tell me you’re not staying up until 4 am scrolling through tiktok.”
“someone said they’re eating ramen for the third night in a row,” jeonghan noted, pointing at a comment. “see? this is why we have to do these lives. to monitor your health.”
“you’re the last person who should be giving health advice,” luna countered. “i remember a certain someone who lived on iced americanos and sheer willpower for three years.”
“it’s a lifestyle choice. you wouldn’t understand. you don’t have style.”
“i had to take a break from coffee for almost a year. it gave me heart palpitations.”
jeonghan chuckled, the vibration echoing through luna’s shoulder. he shifted his gaze back to the screen, his expression softening as he read a few more messages. “‘jeonghan-ah, i still cannot believe you’re back! we missed your chaos!’” he beamed. “i missed you too. did you think it would be too quiet without me? i bet you all were bored.”
“‘we were actually peaceful until you came back’,” luna read aloud, laughing.
“ouch,” jeonghan gasped, clutching his chest. “right here in front of my carats. do you see this, guys? the lack of loyalty.”
luna giggled, her eyes curving into crescents. “they have a point.”
“i can’t believe this. i’m being bullied in my own home.”
“it’s not your home, it’s our home,” she corrected gently.
jeonghan paused, his gaze drifting from the phone to luna. the playfulness didn't vanish, but it deepened into something more intense, more grounded. he leaned in and pressed a quick, lingering kiss to her temple.
“true. my mistake.”
“i used to pray for times like this” “i am actually screaming into my pillow” “the chemistry is literally radiating through the screen” “luna’s face 🥺🥺🥺” “are they even aware we are here or are we just third wheeling a date?”
“you guys are so loud,” luna said, though she was smiling. “we can feel the energy from here.”
“let’s see... ‘jeonghan-ah, what’s the most random thing you’ve done since you’ve been back?’” jeonghan read. he looked at luna. “tell them about the toaster.”
luna froze, her eyes widening. “no. we are not talking about the toaster.”
“why not? it was a very educational experience.”
“you tried to toast a marshmallow in a toaster, yoon jeonghan!”
“i wanted to see if it would work faster.”
“you almost burned the kitchen down!”
“but did it?” jeonghan asked innocently. “the marshmallow was perfectly caramelized. a bit of smoke is a small price to pay for culinary innovation.”
“he’s a menace,” luna told the fans, shaking her head. “a complete and utter menace. i spent two hours scrubbing my marble countertop.”
“and you loved every second of it because it gave you an excuse to yell at me.” jeonghan said smirking at her.
“i don’t need an excuse to yell at you.”
“you love it when i let you.”
luna rolled her eyes, but she didn't pull away when he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side.
“someone is asking,” luna said, trying to steer the conversation back, “‘who is the better cook?’”
jeonghan didn't even hesitate. “me. definitely me.”
luna burst out laughing. “in what universe? you can barely boil water without a manual.”
“i make an excellent omelet.”
“you make a burnt omelet.”
“it’s a rustic style. very trendy in europe.”
“since when did you become an expert on european trends?”
“since i spent a lot of time... appreciating it more recently,” he replied, his voice dropping an octave. he glanced at her, a secret shared between them.
luna cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing a faint pink. “anyway! let’s move on. ‘what’s your favorite thing about traveling together?’”
jeonghan’s expression shifted instantly. the mischief vanished, replaced by a quiet, raw sincerity. he didn't look at the camera; he looked at luna.
“this,” he whispered. “just... this. not having to count down days on a calendar. not having to rely on video calls with bad connections. just being able to reach over and touch her whenever i want.”
luna stared at him, her breath hitching. she reached up, her fingers brushing the hair away from his forehead. “you’re being too sweet. you’re going to make them think you’ve changed.”
“i have changed,” he murmured, leaning into her touch. “i’m much more clingy now.”
“you were always clingy.”
“i’m professionally clingy now. it’s in my résumé.”
meanwhile, the fans were in shambles.
“i can’t birth 😭” “stop it right now” “this is too much wholesome content for one day” “the way he looks at her... he’s so gone” “slay, clingy king!”
“okay, okay,” luna said, blinking back a few tears of laughter. “let’s read more. ‘do you have any new hobbies?’”
“i’ve taken up the art of annoying our jiyeonie here,” jeonghan answered immediately.
“he’s very talented at it. a true virtuoso.” luna nodded her head.
“see? she recognizes my genius.”
“‘do you guys still argue about the laundry?’” luna sighed. “yes. he thinks 'sorting' is a suggestion, not a rule.”
“colors and whites are just social constructs, my baby.”
“they are not social constructs! you turned my favorite white sweater pink!”
“it looked better in pink. it matched your blush… and now my pants.”
luna hit his arm lightly, and he caught her hand, kissing her knuckles.
“someone is asking something... oh.” luna paused, her eyes scanning a recurring question. “‘are the wedding bells ringing soon? any updates on the date?’”
the atmosphere shifted. it wasn't a tense shift, but a playful one. jeonghan and luna looked at each other. a slow, synchronized smile spread across both their faces. they didn't speak for a few seconds, just staring into each other's eyes, giggling softly as if they were sharing a joke that the rest of the world wasn't privy to.
“wedding bells,” jeonghan repeated, his voice teasing. “that’s a very specific sound.”
“very melodic,” luna added, her voice airy.
“‘tell us!’” luna read a comment. “‘the rumors say you’re already married!’”
jeonghan leaned back, humming thoughtfully. he tapped his chin. “married, huh? that sounds like a lot of work.”
“a lot of commitment,” luna agreed, her eyes twinkling.
“do we look married? isn’t being just engaged better?” jeonghan asked the camera, leaning in close. “do i have the vibe of a married man?”
“yes” “you look like a husband who would do the dishes only if asked three times” “luna looks like a wife who is tired of his nonsense” “they’re messing with us” “the way they’re reacting… i think the rumors are true”
“i think i look like a bachelor in his prime,” jeonghan joked, winking at the camera.
“in your dreams,” luna muttered.
“wait, here’s another one,” luna read. “‘is the italy rumor true?’”
jeonghan’s eyes flickered to luna. he didn't answer. instead, he reached over and pinched her cheek.
“italy has great pasta,” he said simply.
“and great wine,” luna added.
“and beautiful architecture.”
“and very romantic sunsets,” jeonghan whispered, his voice trailing off as he looked at her.
“what’s the italy rumor anyway?” luna said with a chuckle before reading another comment. “‘stop teasing us! give us a yes or a no!’”
“life is more exciting with a little mystery, don’t you think?” jeonghan asked. “if we told you everything, you’d have nothing to speculate about on the internet. we’re doing this for your entertainment.”
“he’s literally a troll,” luna said, though she was leaning into him, her hand resting on his chest.
“a handsome troll,” he corrected.
“unfortunately, yes.”
“‘what’s the most romantic thing jeonghan has done since coming back?’” jeonghan read for luna to answer which caught her off guard.
luna paused, her expression softening. “um... he actually remembered that i wanted a specific kind of tea from a small shop in a city he visited during his leave. he traveled two hours out of his way just to get a box of it for me.”
jeonghan shrugged, looking slightly bashful. “it was on the way.”
“it was absolutely not on the way. it was in the opposite direction.”
“i took a detour. i wanted to see the scenery.”
“the scenery of a tea shop.”
“it was a very scenic tea shop.”
luna smiled, her heart clearly visible in her eyes. “it was really sweet. he’s actually very thoughtful when he’s not trying to start a fire in the kitchen.”
“i only try to start fires when i’m inspired.”
“‘what about luna? what’s the most romantic thing she’s done?’”
jeonghan looked at the camera, his expression turning smug. “she let me sleep on her lap for four hours straight without complaining that my head was too heavy.”
“that’s so dumb,” luna complained. “my legs were asleep for an hour after you moved.”
“true love requires sacrifice, nana-ya.” Jeonghan winked at her.
“i gave such a thoughtful answer for you and that was your answer for me! you make it seem like i don’t do anything romantic for you.” luna continued complaining with a pout and a frown on her face.
“your existence is romantic enough for me.”
“fucking sweet talker,” she whispered, so softly it was almost lost to the microphone, but the fans caught it.
“i’m crying” “they are so in love it hurts” “i can’t deal with this level of love” “screaming, crying, throwing up, ripping my hair out” “they’re literally the blueprint”
“let’s see... ‘did one of you ever forget an anniversary?’”
“hannie,” luna said instantly.
“ya!”
“you forgot our three-year anniversary because you were too focused on a video game.”
“i didn't forget it! i was just... building up the anticipation for a delayed celebration.”
“you forgot it.”
“i was strategically delaying it.”
“he’s lucky he’s cute,” luna told the fans.
“i’m not just cute. i’m charming, talented, and an excellent conversationalist.”
“and a liar,” she added.
jeonghan laughed, a rich, genuine sound, and suddenly pulled her into a hug, burying his face in the crook of her neck. luna gasped, laughing and trying to push him away, but she didn't really try.
“get off! we’re on live!” luna struggled to push him off her.
“i’m still at 40%. i need more.” he nuzzled her neck, and luna’s laughter turned into a soft, breathless giggle. she reached back, rubbing his shoulder.
“someone is asking,” luna managed to say, her voice a bit shaky, “‘oppa, what’s the first thing you ate to celebrate finishing your service?’”
jeonghan didn't move from her neck for a second before speaking. “jiyeonie made me tteokbokki. she makes amazing tteokbokki. hers is the only one that doesn't taste like cardboard.”
“i’m offended that you think other people’s tteokbokki tastes like cardboard.” luna tilted her head back chuckling.
“i’m a connoisseur of your cooking. my standards have been raised too high for the rest of the world.”
“stop flirting with me,” luna whispered, though she was beaming.
“i’m not flirting. i’m stating facts.”
“you’re always flirting.”
“that’s because you’re always flirt-able.” jeonghan lifted his head only to playfully wink at her.
luna groaned and pushed his face away, but she was smiling so wide her cheeks were flushed.
suddenly, a small, grey blur leaped onto the sofa. a tiny, fluffy bunny with long ears and a twitching nose landed right in the middle of them, hopping frantically before settling on luna’s lap.
“oh! bugs!” luna exclaimed, her voice turning high and sweet. she immediately began petting the bunny, her fingers sinking into the soft fur. “where did you come from, my baby?”
jeonghan looked at the bunny and then at the camera. “look at him. he’s trying to steal the spotlight. he’s just like me.”
“he’s nothing like you,” luna said, kissing the top of the bunny’s head. “he’s well-behaved and quiet.”
“i’m quiet!”
“you are the loudest person i know, even when you’re not speaking.”
“it’s called having a presence,” jeonghan defended.
“bugs the goat 🤩” “oh my god he’s so tiny” “bugs is the main character now” “the most wholesome family photo ever” “i want to be that bunny”
jeonghan watched luna pet the bunny, his gaze softening. he reached out, not for the bunny, but for luna’s cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin with an intimacy that felt almost too private for a public broadcast.
“you look happy,” he murmured.
luna paused, looking up at him. the noise of the comments, the glow of the screen, the presence of hundreds of thousands of people, it all seemed to fade away. for a moment, it was just them.
“i am,” she whispered. “very happy.”
jeonghan leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. the chemistry was thick, heavy, and undeniable. he lingered there, his breath warm against her lips. he didn't kiss her, but he was so close that the tension was electric.
“they forgot we are here” “i am literally screaming!! wtahfackkmkkk!!” “the tension is tensioning” “they are going to kiss they are going to kiss” “someone call the police because this is too hot for me”
jeonghan eventually pulled back, just an inch, a smirk returning to his face as he noticed the comments. “oh, look at that. we’ve broken the internet again.”
luna blinked, suddenly remembering the camera. she sat up straight, her face turning bright red. “we... we were just... bugs was being cute!”
“sure, bugs was the reason you were looking at my lips like that,” jeonghan teased.
“i was not!”
“you totally were. you were practically begging for it.”
“jeonghan!”
“what? it’s the truth. you’ve been deprived of my charms for too long.”
luna hid her face in her hands, laughing. “i can’t believe i’m doing this live. i can’t believe you’re like this.”
“it’s part of the package,” he said, wrapping his arm around her again and pulling her close. “now, let’s see what else they want to know.”
“there’s a lot of questions,” luna said, trying to regain her composure. “‘what’s one thing you’ve learned about each other since living together?’”
jeonghan hummed. “i’ve learned that jiyeonie if i try to talk to her first thing in the morning, she looks at me like she’s contemplating where to hide my body.”
“it’s a very dangerous time of day,” luna admitted. “and i’ve learned that hannie has a very specific way of organizing the fridge. if i move the milk two inches to the left, he notices immediately.”
“‘do you guys plan on getting a dog eventually?’”
luna looked at bugs, who was now chewing on the edge of her cardigan. “i think bugs might be jealous if we got a dog.”
“bugs is a king,” jeonghan agreed. “he doesn't share his kingdom.”
“but a husky would be so cute,” luna mused.
“as long as the dog doesn't try to steal my spot on the bed,” jeonghan added.
“you already steal all the space!”
“i’m a tall man, jiyeonie. i require a certain amount of space.”
“you’re not even that tall!” luna pointed out which earned her an offended gasp from her fiancé.
“i am tall enough to reach the things you can’t!”
“and you use that power for evil, like putting the cereal on the top shelf so i have to ask you for help.”
“it’s called 'encouraging communication' in the relationship.”
luna laughed and leaned her head back, looking at him with an expression of pure adoration. “i can’t believe i’m in love with this man.”
“i can. i’m a delight.”
“a delight. right. stop that.”
the comments were moving so fast they were almost a blur of white text.
“they are literally married in spirit” “look at her looking at him” “i’m literally screaming into my pillow right now” “they are the definition of soulmates” “why are they so cute i hate it here (i love it here)”
“stop what? being honest?” he nipped lightly at her earlobe, causing her to jump and giggle.
“han!” luna scolded him before bugs thumped his legs on her lap, earning her attention.
“see? bugs is the real boss of the house,” jeonghan said. “he decided he needed attention. he decides eveeything! he decides where we sit, what we eat, and probably when we’re allowed to go to sleep.”
“he really does,” luna agreed. “he tried to eat my charger yesterday. i had to chase him around the living room for ten minutes.”
“you’re not very fast, you know?” jeonghan joked.
“i am fast! you’re just... unnaturally athletic.”
“i’m perfection. i know,” he bragged, puffing out his chest slightly.
luna let out a soft, melodic laugh. “i have my doubts, but sure.”
jeonghan gasped, looking offended. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“lmao the bickering” “speak on it” “they crack me up 😂
jeonghan’s eyes caught the last end of a comment ‘…they’re officially married.’ he stopped scrolling. he didn’t say anything, but he looked at luna. a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. he didn't confirm or deny; he simply raised an eyebrow and looked back at the camera, his expression a perfect blend of innocence and mischief.
luna felt the heat rise in her cheeks. she quickly looked away from the camera, focusing on a different set of comments.
“someone is asking if we’ve traveled anywhere recently,” she said, her voice slightly higher than usual.
“hmm,” jeonghan hummed, his voice vibrating against her shoulder. “i don’t know. do we travel? do we go places?”
luna elbowed him in the ribs. “behave.”
“i am behaving! i’m being a perfect angel,” he said, pouting.
“he is literally teasing us” “they know the rumors”
“okay…? next question,” luna said, trying to steer the conversation away from the wedding frenzy. “here’s one: ‘what’s the first thing you did when jeonghan came home from service?’"
jeonghan’s expression softened. the mischief faded, replaced by something raw and tender. he tightened his grip on her waist. “i didn’t say a word,” he whispered. “i just walked through the door, saw her standing there, and i hugged her for about ten minutes. i think i actually squeezed the air out of her.”
“you did,” luna said, her voice softening. “i remember thinking, ‘i love him, but i really need to breathe.’”
“you smelled like vanilla,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a second. “it was the first time i felt like i was actually home. i know that i go home every night after my shift, but at that moment i felt relief because it’s actually over.”
the comments slowed for a moment, the fans collectively swooning.
“my heart 🥹” “this is too wholesome” “i’m not crying you are” “they are the standard!”
“okay, enough of the sap!” luna said, though her eyes were shimmering.
jeonghan hummed as he scrolled further, his eyes lighting up. “oh, look at this one. ‘do you guys have any secrets you’re keeping from each other?’”
jeonghan looked at luna with a smug expression.
“no,” luna said firmly. “none.”
“really?” jeonghan asked, his voice dripping with playfulness. “are you sure? because i have a secret.”
luna narrowed her eyes. “han, don’t.”
“i’m just saying... some people might be interested to know that our jiyeonie wrote a song for me. again.”
luna froze. her jaw dropped, and she immediately turned to smack his chest. “you jerk! i was keeping that a secret!”
jeonghan burst into laughter, dodging her hand and pulling her back into his chest. he looked at the camera, sticking his tongue out triumphantly.
“a song?!” “what song?!! ” “drop the track now” “jeonghan you lucky man”
jeonghan beamed, looking incredibly proud of himself. “it’s beautiful. truly. i’m the only person in the world who gets to hear it. it’s my private treasure.”
luna groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “i can’t believe you. i spent weeks on that, and i specifically told you not to mention it.”
“i couldn't help it,” he said, his voice softening as he kissed the side of her head. “i wanted them to know how talented my girl is. and how much she loves me.”
“i do love you, but i hate you right now,” she mumbled through her fingers.
“you love me more,” he countered.
“maybe. a little.”
“a lot.”
“fine. a lot.”
“they are literally going to kill me with cuteness” “the way he brags about her 🩷” “i am literally vibrating” “luna please release the song i will pay
“no release!” luna shouted, looking at the camera. “there are no plans to release it! it’s for his ears only. he’s the only one who gets to be this spoiled.”
“i like being spoiled,” jeonghan said, leaning back and pulling her with him so they were both lounging across the sofa. “it suits me.”
“it really does,” luna sighed, finally relaxing.
they spent the next hour drifting through topics. they talked about their favorite movies—luna’s love for psychological thrillers that left jeonghan stressed for days, while jeonghan preferred old romantic comedies that luna claimed to hate but secretly watched when he wasn't looking only because it reminded her of him.
then jeonghan shifted his gaze to the screen again, and his expression shifted. he slowed down his scrolling. he stopped on a comment.
“there are articles and insiders saying that ya’ll already married.”
the air in the room seemed to shift. jeonghan didn't look away. he didn't skip the comment. instead, he turned to luna. he didn't say a word, but his eyes were searching hers. he reached down and took her hand, interlacing their fingers.
luna looked at their joined hands, then back at the camera. she didn't smile, but she didn't look away either. she just squeezed his hand.
“insiders, huh?” jeonghan said, his voice dropping an octave. “they say a lot of things.”
“they do,” luna agreed, her voice a whisper.
“some things are true,” he continued, his thumb rubbing circles over her knuckles. “and some things are just... well-kept secrets.”
he leaned in and kissed her, not a quick peck, but a slow, lingering kiss on the lips that lasted just a few seconds too long.
“oh my god” “i am screaming” “we’ve reached the point where they just be making out on live 😫”
“you’re so bad,” luna whispered, though she was beaming.
“i’m the best actually,” he replied.
“whatever…. someone is asking if we’ve picked out a cake,” luna read, her voice trembling with a suppressed giggle.
jeonghan looked at the ceiling, thinking. “hmm. cake. i like chocolate. luna likes something... lighter. maybe something with lemon?”
“i don't like lemon for the wedding cake. remember our last cake?” she corrected.
“what last cake?!!”
jeonghan froze. he blinked. then he burst into a fit of laughter, burying his face in luna’s neck.
“got caught…” he muffled into her skin.
“you idiot. no i didn’t.” luna laughed, trying to push him off, though she was hugging him back. “shut up. we can’t say anything,” luna said, looking at the camera with a playful, mysterious expression. “a lady must keep some secrets.”
“and a gentleman must protect those secrets,” jeonghan added, regaining his composure. he looked smug again. “but let’s just say... we’re very happy.”
“very happy,” luna echoed.
the conversation drifted back to safer waters. they talked about jeonghan and joshua’s upcoming unit comeback, the grueling hours of dance practice, and how they managed to keep their relationship a secret for five years before they got outed.
“the hardest part was the bathrooms,” jeonghan admitted. “we used to meet in the dressing room bathrooms for like, two minutes, just to hold hands and make sure the other person was okay. most times it’s the only place without cameras.”
“i remember once we almost got caught because you forgot to lock the door,” luna recalled.
“i didn't forget! the lock was broken!” jeonghan retorted, defending himself.
“you forgot.”
“okay, okay,” luna said, rolling her for the umpteenth time. she glanced at the time in the corner of the screen before letting out a surprised laugh. “oh… we’ve been talking for a lot longer than we thought.” she looked over at jeonghan, who nodded in agreement with an amused smile. “i think we should probably go now,” she continued, looking back at the camera.
“nooooooo!” “see you guys again soon 🥹” “congratulations in advance”
“thank you for spending your evening with us. we honestly didn’t plan anything for this live, we just wanted to hang out for a little while.” jeonghan gave the phone a small wave. “thank you for always supporting us,” he said warmly.
“please eat well, sleep well, stay healthy, and take care of yourselves.” luna smiled, gently resting her hand over his before adding, “and thank you for being excited for this new chapter with us. we’ll share everything when the time is right.”
together, they lifted their hands and waved at the camera as the comments flooded with goodbyes and heart emojis.
“we’ll go live again soon,” luna promised with a bright smile.
“hopefully sooner this time.” jeonghan laughed quietly beside her. “we’ll see you again before you know it.”
luna nodded enthusiastically. “goodnight, everyone. we love you. bye!”
“bye, carats,” jeonghan echoed, giving one last salute before reaching toward the phone.
they exchanged one final smile with each other, waved once more, and with a tap of the screen, the live came to an end.
ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)
( 애인 ) when you get dating rumors with seungmin because you both love pochacco. thank twitter. or don't.
💭 :: 28ss fluff illit member!rea changbin being a freak no one thinks seungy/n can pull one (1) tadc reference
𑣲⋆ note ⸝⸝ @kloversung & @yawwni cameo in there #girlfriends
EVERYONE KNOWS WONWOO as the most nonchalant member of the notable e-sports team — "GAM3BO1", however, they also know that Wonwoo only loses his cool with a particular hotshot member of the e-sports team, 'ST4RL1GHT'. You. When a variety game show brings the two teams together and expects you two to work together, there may be more to this rivalry that meets the normal viewer's eye.
PAIRING: rival e-sports player!wonwoo x rival e-sports player! fem! reader
GENRE: Rivals to ???, Angst, Rivalry, Fluff
AU: E-Sports AU
TOTAL WC: 5.7K
WARNINGS: swearing, some mean comments thrown here and there, their teams are lowkey (read: highkey) done with their shit
PLAYLIST: for icy, you're good i guess ~ wonwoo
LIV'S NOTES...
hi! this is my first fic for the love letter collab that @orbitondgtl and i are doing for 200 followers! thank you to my wifey kay for beta-reading this and doing this fun collab with me! i hope you all enjoy this fic hehe and also a happy late birthday to wonwoo <3 i miss him so much and i know a lot of others do too so i hope this helps to ease the longing a little bit! he will be back soon <3
for my izzy...
honestly a fic for you has been long overdue! i love you so much and i'm so thankful that we got to meet through the blockbuster collab in march! these last couple of months of just getting to know you and be your friend have been amazing! to many more years of writing and fangirling about our boys as well as freaking out over them together <3 i love you loads and i hope you love this fic that is undoubtedly, dedicated to you and our love for horror games <3
LOVE LETTER EVENT M.LIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | NAVI
THE INSTANT LOVE AND HATE
Wonwoo likes and dislikes things at a gradual pace.
Like the first video game that made an impact on his life.
Spyro, the game about the little dragon who goes on many different adventures. He didn't know what it was about it but he only liked it when he first played it. However, by the end of the game series, he loved it. It was a gradual change. He found himself talking about it more and more with his family whenever his mother had asked him what he was up to, then he talked about it more with his friends at school and then to anyone that he had met in his IT club.
His first dislike was also gradual. There were some guys in his class that were into some games that required a lot of hours and a lot of grinding. He found it annoying at first but the more he tried to play them — in a fear of not fitting in with his classmates — the more annoyed he felt by it. Hence, he stopped after three weeks and never sought out grindy games again.
However, there are two instances in Wonwoo's life where he distinctively remembers loving or hating something.
The instant love? When he was introduced to League of Legends through a friends birthday at a gaming cafe. The minute Wonwoo's fingers touched that keyboard, he knew this game would be one that he would be playing forever. He instantly loved it. He loved how fast-paced it was, how much strategy it required and what he loved most of all? He was fucking incredible at it.
It was as if he had been playing this game for years, even the friend that had introduced it to him, commended him on it and jokingly told Wonwoo that if there was a way to make a career out of this, Wonwoo should instantly go for it.
Wonwoo had laughed it off that day and shoved his friend but when he went home that day, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Could he really make a career out of this?
He tossed and turned in bed, unable to shake that feeling in his chest before he gave in and searched it up. After an immense amount of research, he found himself staring at the entryway to GOSE HQ, a company that not only developed fast paced strategy games, but also had open auditions for an e-sports team that they were trying to put together.
Wonwoo's parents thought he was crazy. Hell, even Wonwoo thought he was crazy but the second his fingers that keyboard, all his doubts instantly cleared from his mind. It was as if he had blacked out because the next moment, 'VICTORY' had shown up on his screen in giant letters.
He blinked at the screen for a few moments before he clicked next and saw his username there, top of the leaderboard.
Safe to say, life was never the same for Wonwoo after that. He joined the GAM3BOIs with seven others who had made it through the audition and had instantly clicked with all of them upon the first meeting.
It was a fun filled decade after that, they went on to win competition after competition and Wonwoo swore that his life couldn't get better than that.
Well, there is one thing that could make it better.
"You gotta be fucking kidding."
Jeonghan, the vice captain, gives a tight smile at Wonwoo's dry outburst before the latter turns to Seungcheol, his nonchalant look cracking when he meets Seungcheol's serious face. "He's kidding right, Cheol?"
Seungcheol heaves out a heavy sigh at Wonwoo's words, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head, feeling a migraine coming on.
"Does it look like he's kidding, Wonwoo?" He asks, a tired edge to his words as he leans against the console behind him.
Wonwoo resists the urge to say an instant 'yes' when he sees his teammates looking at him with a knowing look on their faces.
"We can't be going onto the same program show as the ST4RL1GHTs." Wonwoo repeats, in slight disbelief. "Aren't they on some promotional tour for their new game that's coming out?"
The two captains share a look. "They are." Jeonghan starts, a small smile on his face as he crosses his arms. "But this promotional program is in two weeks. It was a request from the host of the program so both our management and their management thought it was a good idea and good publicity for the top two teams to be seen together. Hence," Jeonghan casts a quick glance towards Seungcheol as he gnaws on his bottom lip before continuing. "They rearranged our schedule with the ST4RL1GHTs so that we can all make the program on the same day."
Wonwoo feels dread crawling through his veins. "Is there any way for us to skip the program?" He finds himself asking.
Jeonghan tongues his cheek before sending Seungcheol a look. Seungcheol, however, fixes Wonwoo with an unreadable look as he scans him, as if calculating what to say next.
"And why." Seungcheol asks, his eyebrows raising. "Would you need to know that, Jeon?"
A little fear surges through Wonwoo's veins at Seungcheol's use of his last name.
Wonwoo should have taken that as a cue to say, 'just wondering' and let the rest of the promotional content meeting continue but his mind is plagued by the amount of dread in his veins.
"I refuse to be on the same program as her." Wonwoo says bluntly, crossing his arms as he stares at the team captain. The room becomes eerily quiet as the tension rises slightly. Wonwoo feels his teammates eyes burning at the back of his head but he didn't care. There is no way that he can be civil with you in the same room.
Soonyoung — codename: Hoshi, lets out an awkward laugh as he senses the tension in the room. He reaches over to sling an arm around Wonwoo's shoulders making the man grunt as he pats him, a little too happily.
"Wonwoo~" Soonyoung coos, trying to ease the tension. "It's just a few hours, besides they might not make the two of you interact! You can be on the other side of the room and—"
Wonwoo lets out a stubborn scoff before shaking his head. "No." He interrupts. "I can't and won't be in the same room as Icy. I refuse."
"Wonwoo—" Soonyoung tries again before Seungcheol cuts him off by clearing his throat and waving the younger man off. Soonyoung looks between the two before he sighs and removes his arm away from Wonwoo. He purses his lips and rolls his chair back.
Seungcheol lets out a slow exhale before pushing himself off of the console behind him in favour of leaning against the table.
"I think that's more of a 'you' issue, Jeon." The team captain says sternly, his eyes filled with a stubborn fire. "I know the two of you can't get along but this program means something to all of us." Seungcheol gestures to the rest of the team members. "So, I need you to put this stupid rivalry with Icy away for just three to four hours while we record the program and the two of you can go back to hating each other's guts right after. If not," Seungcheol stares Wonwoo down as his voice lowers by two octaves. "I will make sure that you're benched for the season."
Wonwoo's eyes widen upon hearing Seungcheol's words. "You can't—"
Seungcheol cuts him off. "I can and I will if you screw up this opportunity for the team, Jeon. This is one of the biggest programs that we've been invited— requested to be on. It will bring a lot of publicity for the team and frankly, I think this rivalry between you and Icy has gone a little too far behind just the screen."
Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek before he looks down, feeling a slight bit of rage in his veins. Seungcheol lets out a sigh before massaging his temple, unsure if he took it too far. He lowers his leader persona, running a hand through his hair before levelling Wonwoo wth another gaze that's softer than before.
"I know you can be better than this, Wonwoo." The older man softly says, watching Wonwoo's unreadable expression. "You've also been wanting to go onto this program so please. It's just for three hours."
Silence envelops the room after Seungcheol breathes out the last few words. The team members exchange looks with each other.
Wonwoo lets his eyes move from Seungcheol's genuine expression to Jeonghan's cautious one before he takes a quick glance at his team members.
He lets out a ragged sigh. "Fine." He softly says, the disdain in his voice a little evident. He sees Seungcheol's shoulders slump a little in relief before standing up.
"I need some air." He says, not bothering to look up from the floor. "I'll find out the rest of the promotional calendar after this."
Wonwoo speeds out of the room without so much as another word as the glass door violently swings close behind him. The rest of the team collectively heave out a breath as they relax more into their chairs, the tension easing.
Jihoon — codename: Woozi — scoffs at the blonde's statement. "It could've also gone a lot better." He says without an ounce of remorse. "It was like we were killing him slowly."
"We might as well have been." Minghao — codename: The8 — mutters, swaying in his chair.
Seungcheol lets out a sigh as he pushes himself off of the table. "He'll get over it."
"You sure?" Jeonghan asks, raising an eyebrow as he crosses his arms. "We basically just told him that if he doesn't 'behave', we're benching him for the first half of the season." He tilts his head to the side. "Are you going to actually follow through with that if he screws up the program?"
Seungcheol internally curses himself, he knows he needs to set an example for his teammates. They may be a close knit group but they also had a job to do and Seungcheol's the team leader. The responsibility of leading this group to be the best they can be, depends on him.
"He won't." Seungcheol answers easily, his voice wavering a little that lets the rest of his team members know that he isn't quite sure of the answer himself. "Let's just get back to the rest of the promotional calendar."
The rest of the team share a look with each other as Seungcheol spares a quick glance towards where Wonwoo had exited from before he sighs, he really hopes his words will be true.
Because the one thing that Wonwoo had instantly hated, was you.
TABOO WORDS
You shuffle uncomfortably in your makeup chair as your stylist fixes a few strands of your hair. You know you shouldn't be nervous. You've done promotional reality content shows with the rest of your team before and being the witty and sarcastic person you were, you're the perfect guest for these kind of shows.
Not to mention that you've actually been dreaming on appearing on this particular reality show for the longest time. However, all you can think about is the annoyingly handsome guy that you need to be civil with for the next few hours.
You didn't know what sparked this rivalry between the two of you, but the hate was instant. It was probably the way he always had this cocky aura around him and he was not as nonchalant as he wanted to be. It was just a little insufferable.
You probably wouldn't have been so pressed about it if he was just a good sport. It was one of the first few matches of the season, a friendly tournament that didn't affect your placing for the overall season, just something to get the players warmed up.
You were bright-eyed and new and ecstatic to be playing against some of the players you watched during your free time. You've always been good at League, multiple of your friends trying to encourage you to get into the e-sports world but you were always scared to do so and it irked your friends till the end of time.
Hence, they made you attend an open audition without your knowledge and the next thing you knew, you were one of the newest recruits for ST4RL1GHT.
So, during that first friendly competition, you were actually excited to meet the stellar players, especially said handsome guy in glasses. However, you were also really good at League and when you had beat that star-studded player, you had heard him mutter 'beginners luck' under his breath and that made your heart instantly drop into your throat.
I guess it was true that you should never meet your heroes.
"Ready?" Jihyo, your team captain asks which jolts you out of your thoughts. You sit up straighter and send her a smile through the mirror as she stands behind you.
"Yeah." You mutter out, dusting off your leather outfit that the stylist has put you in. "I think so at least."
Jihyo sends you an empathetic smile as she helps you off the high chair. "Well, just remember what we all told you in the hotel room the other day. Just don't make eye contact with him, only interact with him when you need to and smile as if seeing him doesn't make you want to jump out of the building."
You let out a snort at her words. "I'll do my best." You reply dryly, your eyebrows furrowing at the thought of having to be nice to the guy who basically said your win was luck based.
You think you would rather go into a League game blindfolded.
Jihyo sends you one last smile before she rounds up the rest of the girls on the team. You smile as they all assemble in a line, Yunjin immediately taking the spot next to you as she hooks her arm through yours. Chaewon, Kazuha, Eun Chae and Sakura all stand facing Jihyo as well as the vice captain, Tzuyu, awaiting the quick briefing before the eight of you get called for standby.
"Alright, we aren't sure what the program is for today but knowing the history of this show, they will most likely make us play a few games with the GAM3BOIs, it will be a competitive time but," Jihyo sends you all a look of unwavering confidence. "I'm sure we will be able to beat them."
A few murmurs of agreements rise from the rest of you.
"And the whole line-up is here today?" Yunjin asks, flashing you a quick glance. Jihyo's eyes flit to you for a moment before nodding.
"Yeah." Jihyo easily answers. "Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Soonyoung, Jihoon, Vernon, Minghao, Jun and…" Her tongue wets her lips. "Wonwoo."
His name immediately makes your expression sour and everyone's gaze falls onto you, as if his name was some taboo word that sets you off immediately. Instead, you shrug, silently willing for this day to be over.
"I'm fine." You mutter, trying your best to assure them as you give them a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "What's the worse that could happen?"
THE CONFESSION
You want to curse whatever possessed you to say those words an hour ago.
It started off civil, you managed to avoid him till you had to force a smile onto your face as you greeted him and the rest of his members, the handshake that the two of you exchanged as stiff as it could've been. But it was fine.
The hosts asked the two of you questions, there was a little bit of teasing here and there but it was fine.
Until they announced the games that you and the rest would be playing.
"Next up!" The male host announces, making you sit up straighter. "After the break, we're moving onto our game section for the day which is the 'Horror Lineup'!"
At his words, you feel your heart drop in your stomach and your face pale.
Yunjin also freezes beside you after she hears the words and shoots you a small glance. You try to keep your expression neutral, an easy smile on your face but internally, you think you regret your words a little bit.
The hosts turn to you and the rest with a tantalizing smile on their faces. "However, this event comes with a twist!" The male host looks towards your team, eyeing you specifically. "We will be pairing you up with members on the other team so!" He looks back towards the cameras with a shifty expression and a big smirk, "Let's see the pairings!"
You feel your blood run cold at his words as the female host starts exaggeratedly clapping at his words. You feel Yunjin's eyes on you but you couldn't bring yourself to look at her as your eyes lock with the man across the room.
Yeah, you seriously regret uttering those words.
"This can't be happening." You think aloud as you collapse onto the couch in the dressing room. "A horror game and he's my fucking partner?!" You want to run a hand down your face in distress. "The world has got to be against me."
Your teammates stare at you, unsure of how to comfort you when Eun Chae speaks up.
"Maybe he will be civil this time!" She supplies, a little nervously.
"Maybe over my dead body." You bluntly mutter, sinking in deeper into the couch.
"How about one of us request to switch partners?" Tzuyu offers. Jihyo, however, shakes her head as she silently paces while Yunjin takes a seat beside you.
"I don't think they'd agree to it." Jihyo says softly. "They know all about the famous rivalry between Jeon and Icy. They might just want to do it more if we protest it or suggest the member switch." She shakes her head. "It's probably been their goal from the start when they wanted all of us to be on this show."
"Those assholes." Yunjin mutters, her fists clenching a little. If it was any other scenario, you would've barked out a laugh at her swearing, however all you can do is stare upwards at the ceiling and let your thoughts run wild.
The room falls suffocatingly silent as you feel your nerves spike, your heart hammering fast in the confinements of your chest as you feel your member's eyes on you. Your restlessness gets the better of you making you shoot out of your seat which makes a few of your members jump in surprise.
You shoot them an apologetic look before excusing yourself. "I need some air."
With that, you take off. You push the dressing room door, speedwalking down the hallway. You aren't sure where you're going but you just knew you needed to get out of there before the walls completely swallow you whole.
Your prayers are answered as you push open a firm white door which leads you to the roof of the building. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with fresh air as you feel the weight on your shoulders start to lift. You eye the skyline as you watch the sun start to dip below the horizon, feeling your worries start to dissipate from inside your veins as you walk closer to the railing. You lean against it as a gust of wind washes over you, increasing the serenity of the scenery.
"Enjoying the scenery?"
You jolt, jumping a little before you whip your head to see Wonwoo stood behind you, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.
"Are you the fucking devil, Jeon?!" You ask, your hand on your chest as you will your heart to calm down. "You're going to give someone a heart attack if you make yourself known like that."
You see a ghost of a smirk tug at the corners of Wonwoo's mouth. "Didn't answer my question, Icy."
You roll your eyes as you cross your own arms. "I enjoyed it a lot more before you made yourself known to me."
Wonwoo barks out a bitter laugh as he pushes himself off of the wall. He takes a few steps towards you, "Have a problem with horror games, Icy?"
You blink in surprise at his question before quickly schooling your expression. "What's it to you?"
He shrugs. "You just looked like you were going to pass out when they mentioned it." A snarky smirk appears on his face as he fixes you with a mocking pout and a condescending head tilt. "Do you need me to hold your hand later so that the scary monsters don't get you?"
Your jaw clenches as you resist the urge to slap the annoying expression off of his face. "You're such an asshole." You bite out, your tone laced with venom as you glare at the taller man. "What is your problem with me?"
Wonwoo's eyebrows furrow as his expression does a 180 and he's glaring at you. "I should be asking you that." He mutters lowly, taking another step towards you. "You're the one walking into every room glaring at me with the power of a thousand suns. I was willing to let it go the first few times but when you suddenly started making it your personal mission to get me out first in all the League games, that's where I draw the line."
You feel your blood boil more. "Are you saying that this fucking rivalry is my fault?"
"If the shoe fits!"
A sarcastic laugh escapes you as you shake your head. "You're such an asshole, Jeon." You mutter out, trying to push past the man.
"No." Wonwoo sternly says, blocking your path. "You started this. Tell me what your fucking problem with me is."
Your jaw clenches more. "Jeon—"
"No, we're settling this here and now because if I have to play nice later in-front of everyone. I have to at least know what I did for you to act as if I took a shit in your goddamn cheerios."
If you weren't so pissed off with the man standing in-front of you, you would have found that joke funny but all you see is red as you jab a finger into Wonwoo's chest.
"You wanna know what my goddamn problem with you is?!" You hiss, nudging him hard with your finger. "Fine! It's the fact that you always think you're the fucking smartest in the room and God forbid a rookie tries to beat you at your own stupid game because you're such a sore ass loser — and the rookie actually fucking looked up to you by the way. And don't even get me started on—"
"What?" Wonwoo says, interrupting you before you can continue your ramble, his eyebrows scrunching. "What the fuck was that?"
"What the fuck was what?"
"That rookie example that you used."
You feel your heart stop as you realize what you had just told this godforsaken man.
"Was that you?" He asks, his voice dropping a few decibels, barely above the breath of a whisper.
"No." You quickly reply as you refuse the meet the man's gaze.
"Oh my god. It was you." Wonwoo says softly, taking a step backwards to fully see your expression.
"No—"
"Icy."
You feel a little vulnerable in-front of the man, knowing that you just exposed something that you should've taken to your grave.
"Drop it, Jeon." You mutter out, unsure of what to do now that your adrenaline of your ramble had died. "You called me lucky during my debut match when all I did was look up to you." You chuckle lowly. "Maybe that was a petty ass reason to kinda hate your guts but that match meant everything to me and I worked hard to get to where I was. And for you to just say that it was fucking luck…" You cut yourself off with a soft scoff as you fix your eyes on his shoes. "That fucking sucked."
Wonwoo is silent for the first time, your words rendering him absolutely speechless which makes you shift uncomfortably.
"I'll see you later, Jeon." You mutter, pushing past the man. You stop in-front of the door that leads back inside. "I promise I won't be too much of a bother later. So just…" You hesitate, chewing nervously on the inside of your cheek. "Just fucking forget whatever I said."
With that, you pull the door open and leave Wonwoo standing there with his thoughts.
DO YOU HATE THE PLAYER?
"Wow!" The host announces, wiping a stray tear from his eye from how much he was laughing. "That was a fantastic combination of wit and whimsy from our two team captains!" Seungcheol helps Jihyo step off the platform before giving her a smile which she returns with ease as they walk back to their seats. "They really show their stellar leadership skills in switching between being team players and leaders through this game show."
The female host flashes a smile as she nods at the male host's words. "You said it!" She turns back to the cameras, her eyes glinting. "Now, for our final pair. The feistiest set of rivals in all of E-Sport history. Wonwoo and Icy!"
You slide out of your chair, a fake smile plastered on your lips as you 'confidently' walk up to the steps of the platform. You refuse to look at Wonwoo as he settles beside you, even though you can feel his eyes on you.
"Now," The male host says, turning to the two of you. "As said before, one of you would need to put on the VR headset and go through one of the two rooms of your choice. The other will be guiding you through the maze that is set in that room but beware of the dangers lurking in between the turns." He eyes the two of you with a mischievous grin. "Got it?"
You nod as Wonwoo grunts in acknowledgement.
The host turns to you, a glint in his eyes that makes your skin crawl as he holds out the headset to you. "Seeing as you're known as the most confident member in ST4RL1GHT, I assume you would be taking the headset and doing the maze!"
The action stuns you, rendering you a little dumbfounded as you stare at the white headset in his hands. For the rest of the pairs, they just left the headset on the pedestal in-front and let the pair discuss who would be taking the challenge.
You open your mouth, about to accept your fate and take the headset when Wonwoo stops you.
"I'll do it." He answers, making you blink in surprise as he glances at you. "I've seen Icy's comms and I think she would do a better job of guiding me through the maze than I would. I also know that my navigational skills are pretty good so I will be able to follow her instructions."
The male host falters slightly as he stares at Wonwoo's outstretched hand. "Really?" The guy hesitantly says. "I feel that Icy might be better at going through the maze because—"
"Because you planned this around the fact that you heard that she hated horror games and wanted to personally humiliate her on the show?" Wonwoo finishes, raising an eyebrow.
At those words, the host pales as his jaw drops open. "H-how—"
Wonwoo shrugs. "The hallways are pretty echoey, don't you think." He bluntly states. "I just so happened to be in the hallway where you were laughing at what a misfortune it would be when the Ice Queen of ST4RL1GHT falters and screams at this pathetic horror game."
You jolt a little feeling a hand linking with yours making you peer to your side to see Jihyo standing there with her leader face on. "I think it's time for us to take our leave." She says, plastering on a fake but serious smile. "I don't think we will be coming back to this show but we thank you for inviting us."
You feel a few other people line up beside you making you look to your left and right to see the rest of the girls stepping into line with you and Jihyo. Their faces are filled with unamused expressions as Yunjin takes a glance at you, giving you a warm smile before squeezing your shoulder in a firm reassurance that says 'We got you.'
"I think it's the same for us as well." You hear Seungcheol say as you see the GAM3BOIs stand up as well, moving towards the front. "Thank you for having us as well but," he locks eyes with you, sending you a small reassuring smile before it disappears as he turns back to the hosts. "We can't be on a show where the hosts have a secret vendetta against their guests and want to humiliate them."
With that, the sixteen of you leave the room, leaving the hosts blinking owlishly at all of you, unsure of what to do. You giggle at their reaction as you hear the producers start to chastise the two of them, wondering how their ratings were going to do. In any other situation, you probably would've felt bad for how badly they were getting told off but you can't bring yourself to care after they tried to use one of your biggest weaknesses against you.
You hear a soft breath of your name being called making you stop in your tracks and turn to face the individual. There stands a nervous Wonwoo who looks almost as if he was silently cursing himself for calling your name.
Jihyo looks between you and the man before detaching herself from you. "We'll see you inside." She whispers to you, giving your shoulder a quick squeeze before pushing the rest of the girls towards the dressing room.
"You think he's going to confess to her—"
"Shut up Eun Chae!" Chaewon hisses. "He's right there!"
"But—"
You shake your head as their voice trail off down the hallway, leaving you with a very awkward Wonwoo.
"What can I do for you, Jeon?" You ask, an attempt to break the ice when it becomes clear that the man was not going to do it himself.
The man shuffles uncomfortably in place before he opens his mouth. "I wanted to apologize for being an asshole when we first met." He softly says, fiddling with his hands. "I'm also sorry that it took you telling me to realize what I had done wrong and I have no excuse for saying that it was luck based." He clicks his tongue before he continues his ramble. "I actually remember that first friendly match. I was upset with something one of my teammates did and I took it out on you by calling you lucky because I wasn't thinking clearly that day. I know it's not a good excuse but for what it's worth, I thought you were one of the best players I saw that day. You made quite the impression."
His apology and words make a warmth spread through your chest. You clear your throat as you cross your arms in-front of your chest.
"Thank you." You softly say. "For the apology and also for doing what you did just now."
Wonwoo shakes his head. "Small matter." He mutters. "Someone needed to put those assholes in their place."
His words make a small smile tug at the corner of your mouth.
"They really were assholes, huh." You say as you watch a ghost of a grin appear on Wonwoo's face. He lets out a low chuckle as he scratches the back of his nape.
"Yeah, they were." He assures you, his voice rumbles making a shiver run down your spine. "Kinda upsetting to be honest." He admits, chewing the inside of his cheek. "I'm actually a really big fan of their content."
Your eyes widen at his confession. "So am I."
Wonwoo looks at you with a surprised look before a devastating smile appears on his face. "Looks like we might have more in common than we thought."
You feel your heart start to race as a flush erupts up your neck. "Yeah." You honestly say. "We might."
You feel a comfortable silence envelope the two of you before you hear loud noises down the hallway, recognizing them as Wonwoo's teammates. You see him realize it as well as his eyes flit from you to the hallway behind you.
"You should go." You say, taking a step to the side. "I probably need to get going too."
Wonwoo hesitates for a second, glancing between you and the hallway before nodding. He starts to take a few steps towards the hallway behind you before he turns and faces you.
"Does this mean we're friends now?" He asks making you blink at him.
You raise an eyebrow at the man before feigning a ponder when you realize how nervous he's being. "I don't know." You softly tease. "Might need a rematch of that friendly so that I can make you eat those words."
Wonwoo blinks before he lets out a soft breath of a laugh, shaking his head before he looks back up at you. "Deal." He says, holding out his hand for you to shake. "Till the rematch then."
You bite back a smile as you shake his hand. "Till the rematch." You repeat. You feel him tilt both your hands so that his is on top before he slips something into your hand. You quizzically look at him as he pulls his hand out of your grasps before closing your knuckles around the object in your hand.
All he does is give you another devastating smile before he takes off down the hallway without another word.
You glance at your hand, unclenching it slowly to see a folded piece of paper. Your eyebrows furrow as you open it before a small smile appears on your face as you read the words on it.
xxx-xxx-xxxx, hope I can continue to make it up to you.
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thinking about idol!jeongin falling in love at first sight meeting fan!reader. . .
first time he saw you wasn't when it was your turn to sit in front of him. the airtime before the fan sign had started, everyone was already seated, the staff just double checking if everything was good to go.
jeongin's eyes wandered through the crowd in front of the him, not looking for anyone in particular, merely just looking at their groups' fans to have something to do.
he was simply just browsing through the blur of faces, a few signs here and there, until he saw you.
jeongin didn't know what was different. only that he could feel some kind of aura around you that the other fans couldn't see or sense near you, a luminous ambience that only he could see.
you weren't looking at him. you seemed busy in your own world, trying to breath in properly 'cause you were nervous. he smiled when you turned and saw him staring back at you.
your face loaded for a second, before smiling back, waving calmly. he waved back. your grin was a little bit wider when he did it.
the fan sign continued, none of the fans here not knowing—not even his hyungs—that their maknae had a secret agenda now when he saw you, which was to get connected with you.
no matter how risky it was.
when you were finally sat on the table, he was itching to meet you.
he had been reviewing all the ways he could possibly flirt. that wouldn't be too obvious, right? it would just be him doing his duty as an idol to entertain their fans with fanservice.
except when it came to you, the fanservice was teetering a little bit to crossing over to real flirting.
"h-hi, jeongin." you bowed before sitting down.
"hi, there." his gaze followed your every move, smirking. "what's your name?"
you told him your name as you hand out your album to sign, jeongin making sure to graze your fingers a little, the sight of you visually short-circuiting when it happened forever ingrained in his memory for when he wants to smile.
"you have a really pretty face," he signed your album with practiced ease, opening the photobook to sign his photo in there as well, "pretty name too. you're lucky."
"i- hah. . .!" you chuckled awkwardly, flattered as you blinked and thanked him.
"what made you like our group, hm?" he asked, leaning in elbows on the table as he splayed his hands out for you. you stared at them a little confused, before you answer his question.
"i really liked your guys' music. it's pretty alternative to modern pop, so— oh."
feeling a sense of boldness run through him (and slight impatience that you didn't get the hint), he took both your hands in his. jeongin hummed, like this was normal.
jeongin had a sneaking suspicion that his hyung, seungmin, next to him was quite taken aback at his sudden love for skin ship, but he didn't pay him no mind.
not for the remainder of the fan sign, at least.
you held eye contact with him, but only for short periods of time. his smile and sharp gaze making it almost impossible for you to focus when it just made your brain all mushy.
he hummed at your unfinished reply, before asking another question. "you must have a bias then, right?"
"ah, yeah i do!" you say happily, unaware that you were waving your intertwined hands from the positive question.
"is it me?" his fingers squeezed yours a little, anticipating a 'yes'.
"ah, no. . ." you say sheepishly, jeongin letting out a dramatic sigh.
"it's actually bangchan, haha," you say, "sorry, innie-ah."
"too bad. . ." he pouted.
"it's 'cause i have a thing for older guys, yknow?" you try joking, but then he answers you with something you didn't know how to reply to.
"so you wouldn't date a younger guy?"
jeongin's thumbs started to caress the sides of your hands, the action turning your head all fuzzy. if you were calm enough (which you weren't until the end of the fan sign), you would have noticed his sly smirk, obviously flirting with you now.
"i— ha. . . i didn't say that," you smile, tilting your head down as he tries to catch you sight.
"would you not mind long distance relationships too?"
"uhm," you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze for a little while, more confused than shy, "n-not really, why?"
'you look really pretty flustered like this, y'know?', is jeongin really wants to say, but with seungmin (who you were talking to before him) starting to look really suspicious, he settles for:
"that's good, then we'd be perfect together."
the timer goes off, and with jeongin being the last member on the end of the table, you're forced to bow your goodbye and walk off, with jeongin's eyes following you until he's forced to interact with the fan in front of him, his smugness from the interaction still lingering.
you, who just exited the venue, had let out a sigh of relief? exhilaration? you aren't sure, but you know damn well your hearts beating really fast.
the hours pass after that, and once you make it home, you wind down and get ready for bed, the signed album and photobook still splayed out on your duvet.
you smile at the event, remembering all of the happenings with the other members, before recalling the last one. your fingers trace jeongin's signature.
looking at the photobook, you open it up and flip through it, looking at the messages that the members left you, you grin at each one, some telling you to eat while the others saying they'd love to see you again.
then, you see jeongins message for you, and your grin drops.
' you don't mind younger guys if it was me, right? call me soon, okay? ~ XXXX - XXX - XXX
— y.j ❤︎ '
it was messily written, giving you the impression that he did it quickly, so that no one could see in the photobook that fast. you scoffed in disbelief.
your heart jumped a few beats faster. there it was again. that feeling in your stomach. the odd pull.
you caress your thumb on the ink of the page, lost in thought.
the big question is; will you message, or will you ghost?
ugh skz not having mnl in their tour destinations is making my heart break 💔🥀anyways have some delusional jeongin imagine because i dont see enough about him being written ;D
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≔ ⋆⟢ pairing : (boyfriend) yang jeongin x (girlfriend) female reader
◟ genre : fluff
◟ word count : 258
⬩➤「 warning 」 ᝰ. not proofread
“Okay, will the next fan please come over?” The staff member kindly asked as you then moved on to meet the next member, also your loving boyfriend who you haven’t seen in a long week.
“Hello there?” You chimed out with a smile only to be met with a wide eyed grin from Jeongin who’s utterly speechless.
“How are you here?!”
“Wow! I came all the way here and that’s all you have to say to your fan?” You teased. “Now tell me, Jeongin, what have you been up to?”
“I’ve been doing well. I’ve been missing a certain someone though.” He sighs out, almost wanting to sulk on the spot.
“Really? And who would that be?”
“You.” He boldly announced causing the fans behind you to scream in disbelief, just thought to be average fan service when it had so much meaning under those words.
“Are you happy to see me?”
“More than happy. I sure hope you come to every fan sign from now on.”
“Wanna hold hands?” You playfully remarked.
“Yes!” He answered a little too quickly.
You held hands. His grip on yours was very firm but gentle. He never took his eyes off of you, unwilling to pay attention to the fan’s recording him.
“I’m afraid your time is up, please move on so the other fans can have their turn.”
“I see. Hope to see you again, Jeongin.”
Before you left, he whispered something only you could hear.
“Please call me.”
And you nodded, making a silent promise to do exactly that.
Summary: you can’t stay too mad at your boyfriend, especially when he orders flowers that fill up every surface of your kitchen.
Wc: 1,808
Warnings: not proofread 🥲
MASTERLIST
-
The disagreement itself had been stupid.
Not serious enough to become a real argument, but just annoying enough to leave you in a bad mood.
You'd been sitting at the kitchen island that morning wrapped in one of Mingyu's oversized button-down shirts, absently stirring your coffee while watching him get ready for work.
The penthouse was already buzzing with activity around him. Assistants were sending messages, his phone kept lighting up with emails, and somewhere in the background his schedule for the day was being finalised.
Meanwhile, you were focused on one thing. The fact that he had promised to take you shopping.
"You promised you'd come with me today." Your voice broke through the silence as you watched him adjust the cuff of his watch.
Mingyu didn't even look up at first. "I know."
The dry response only irritated you further. Your eyes narrowed as you set your mug down onto the marble countertop with a quiet clink.
"You literally told me you'd clear your afternoon."
"I did."
"And?"
Finally, Mingyu glanced over his shoulder. "And a board meeting got moved."
You stared at him in disbelief before letting out a long sigh. "Oh, a board meeting." The sarcasm dripping from your voice was impossible to miss. "Of course."
A smile threatened to pull at the corner of his mouth. "You knew I wasn't going to cancel a meeting worth millions of dollars."
You folded your arms across your chest. "Maybe I wanted you to."
That finally earned a proper reaction. A quiet laugh escaped him as he shook his head. "You're unbelievable."
"And you're a liar."
The fact that he laughed again only made your annoyance worse. Because he wasn't taking you seriously, at all.
By the time Mingyu was ready to leave, briefcase in hand and suit jacket perfectly pressed, you were still determined to maintain your grudge.
Which was exactly why you were now leaning dramatically over the upstairs railing overlooking the foyer instead of walking him to the door like you usually did.
Your chin rested in the palm of your hand as you watched him from above. Mingyu slipped his phone into his pocket before glancing up. The second he spotted you, his expression softened.
It always did. No matter how busy he was. No matter how many meetings he had. No matter how irritated you were pretending to be. For a moment he simply looked at you.
Then he tilted his head. "That's it?"
You blinked down at him innocently. "What?"
His eyebrows lifted. "You're really going to let me leave like this?"
You shrugged one shoulder. "Looks like it."
Mingyu stared at you for a second before shoving both hands into his pockets. The action was familiar enough that you immediately knew he was about to start negotiating.
"Where's my goodbye kiss?"
The audacity. You nearly laughed. Instead, you simply looked down at him while he looked right back up at you. Waiting.
Like it was the most reasonable question in the world. Like he wasn't the reason you were annoyed in the first place.
Slowly, you tapped a finger against your cheek as though genuinely considering it. "Hmm."
His eyes narrowed immediately. "Hmm?"
You pretended to think harder. "I don't know." A pause. "I don't know if you deserve one."
Mingyu's eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared beneath his fringe. For a second, he simply stared up at you as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard.
Then a disbelieving laugh escaped him. "You don't know if I deserve one?"
You smiled sweetly. The same smile that usually meant you were about to become a problem. "You made me mad."
"Oh, did I?"
"Mhm."
The hum was accompanied by a small nod, as though there was absolutely no room for debate on the matter. Mingyu let out a slow breath through his nose, clearly trying not to smile.
The worst part was that he looked completely amused by the situation.
As if your attitude was somehow entertaining. As if watching you sulk was one of his favourite hobbies. Which, knowing him, it probably was.
"Baby."
"No."
"Come here."
You immediately shook your head. "No."
His grin widened. The sight alone should have annoyed you. Instead, it made your stomach do that stupid little flip it always did.
"Come kiss me goodbye."
You pretended to think about it. Again.
Your finger tapped thoughtfully against your cheek while Mingyu watched from below with the patience of a man who already knew exactly how this was going to end.
"Hmm..."
The sound of his laughter filled the foyer. Rich and warm and entirely too pleased with itself. "You're acting like a child."
You gasped. "I'm acting like a woman who was abandoned."
Mingyu barked out another laugh. "Abandoned."
"Yes."
"I'll be gone for eight hours."
"Exactly."
His smile only grew. God. You wanted to be annoyed. You really did.
Unfortunately Mingyu looked unfairly handsome standing there in his charcoal suit, one hand resting on the handle of his briefcase while he looked up at you like you were the most entertaining part of his morning.
"You know," he said casually, glancing at his watch, "I have exactly thirty seconds before I need to leave."
You rested your chin deeper into your palm. "Sounds like a you problem, Gyu."
"Twenty-nine."
"Twenty-eight."
You pressed your lips together. Because he was smiling now. It made staying mad significantly harder than it should have been. Which was incredibly irritating.
With a dramatic sigh, you finally pushed yourself away from the railing. "Fine."
His grin became immediate. Victorious. "Thought so."
"Don't be smug."
"I'm always smug."
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. Mingyu's laughter followed you as you made your way downstairs. The entire time you could feel his eyes on you.
By the time you reached the bottom step, he was already standing there.
Like he assumed you'd walk straight into them. His arms opened automatically. Which was exactly why you didn't.
Instead, you ignored the invitation entirely and walked right up to him. Mingyu watched suspiciously. You rose onto your toes. Pressed a quick kiss against his cheek. Then immediately stepped back.
"There." You dusted your hands together dramatically. "Goodbye kiss."
Problem solved. At least in your opinion. Apparently not in Mingyu's.
Because the second you tried to walk away, warm fingers wrapped around your wrist. You barely managed two steps before being pulled back.
"What now?"
The look on Mingyu's face was almost offensive. Like he had personally been wronged.
"That's what I get?"
You blinked innocently. "You asked for a goodbye kiss."
"That was not a goodbye kiss."
"It absolutely was."
You laughed. "Mingyu—"
The protest died instantly when his free hand slid to your jaw. Not rough. Just enough to stop you talking. Just enough to tilt your face up towards him.
Your breath caught. Because the teasing expression slowly disappeared from his face. And suddenly the atmosphere felt very different. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes.
The look there made your stomach flip. "You think you're funny." You tried to maintain your composure. Failed. A little.
"I am funny."
"Mhm." His thumb brushed slowly across your cheek. "You've been giving me attitude all morning."
"You deserved it."
"Did I?"
"Yes."
The answer came so quickly that it made him smile. His head dipped slightly as he shook it. Then, before you could say anything else, he stepped closer.
One arm slid around your waist, pulling you flush against the front of his suit. Immediately surrounding you with his familiar scent.
"Still mad at me?"
His voice was quieter now. You looked away for a second.
"A little."
"That's unfortunate."
Your eyes lifted back to his. "Why?"
"Because I hate leaving when you're mad at me."
And just like that, your annoyance cracked. The stupid thing was that he knew it would. He knew exactly what those words would do to you. You opened your mouth to respond.
But Mingyu kissed you before you got the chance. The moment his lips touched yours, every argument you'd been determined to continue immediately lost its momentum.
Not because he was trying to distract you. Well, maybe a little. But mostly because there was something unfairly effective about the way Mingyu looked at you when he was trying to make things right.
Like you were the only thing on his mind. Like the board meeting, the investors, the endless calls waiting for him the second he stepped into the office didn't matter nearly as much as making sure you weren't upset with him.
His hand remained against your cheek while his other arm stayed securely around your waist, holding you close enough that you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
When he eventually pulled back, it wasn't very far. Just enough to look at you. His forehead almost brushed yours.
Your hands smoothed down the front of his suit jacket absentmindedly. Immediately his eyes dropped to the movement.
Then softened. That expression again. The one that always made your chest squeeze. The one reserved entirely for you.
"You know," he murmured, "most people would be impressed by how hard I work."
You scoffed. "Most people aren't dating you."
"Good."
The answer came far too quickly. You laughed. "Babe."
"I'm serious." His arm tightened slightly around your waist. "I don't want most people."
The warmth that spread through your chest was immediate. This was exactly how he won. Every single time. You'd start the day determined to hold onto a grudge and somehow end up staring at him like he'd hung the moon.
It was deeply annoying. And completely his fault. "You're laying it on thick."
"I'm being honest."
"You're manipulating me."
"I'm apologising."
"You bought your way out of trouble."
His mouth twitched. "Maybe a little."
You pointed a finger at his chest. "See? That's not apologising."
"No?"
Mingyu caught your hand before you could pull it away, lacing his fingers through yours. "Then let me try again."
The playfulness in his expression softened. "I know I cancelled our plans."
You stayed quiet.
"And I know you're disappointed."
"I am."
"I know."
He lifted your joined hands and pressed a brief kiss against your knuckles. "And I still hate leaving when you're upset with me."
Before you could think of a comeback, Mingyu leaned down and kissed you again.
Slow. Unhurried. Like he was deliberately taking a moment for just the two of you before the rest of his day pulled him away. One hand settled against your jaw while the other remained secure around your waist.
Your fingers curled into the front of his suit jacket. Immediately he looked pleased with himself. Which made you want to roll your eyes. When he finally pulled back, your cheeks felt warm. Mingyu looked entirely too satisfied.
"There." His thumb brushed across your cheek. "That's a proper goodbye kiss."
You narrowed your eyes. "You're still in trouble."
"I know."
His grin widened. "But you love me."
Unfortunately, you did. And judging by the way Mingyu looked at you, as though you were already the best part of his day before he'd even left the house, he knew it too.
"Go to work."
Mingyu laughed before finally grabbing his briefcase.
"You better be home early."
"Yes, princess."
"You said that yesterday."
He backed towards the door, still smiling. "I mean it this time."
You pointed at him. "Said every liar ever."
Mingyu's laughter followed him out the door. And just before it closed, he shot you one final grin.
"Love you."
Then he was gone. Leaving you standing in the foyer trying very hard not to smile. And failing completely.
~
A couple of hours had passed since Mingyu had left. The penthouse was quiet. Too quiet.
You'd spent most of the afternoon sprawled across the living room couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, still pretending you were annoyed with him.
Pretending. Because the truth was that your little argument this morning had barely lasted five minutes before he'd kissed the attitude right out of you.
Still. You weren't about to let him off that easily. Your shopping trip had been cancelled. You had standards.
A soft chime suddenly echoed through the penthouse. The doorbell. You frowned. Turning off your phone. Sitting upright.
You weren't expecting anyone. No deliveries. No friends. Nothing. You heard footsteps from the foyer before one of the house staff answered the door.
Muffled voices drifted through the space. Then more footsteps. More voices. The sound of something being carried inside.
Your confusion deepened. You pushed yourself off the couch and began walking towards the foyer.
Halfway there, you stopped. Because you saw colour. A lot of colour. Your eyes widened.
Flowers. Everywhere. The kitchen island had disappeared beneath enormous bouquets. The marble countertops were covered. The dining table was covered.
There were flowers being carried through the front door by multiple delivery people while your staff attempted to find places to put them all.
Pink. White. Cream. Soft peach. Every single arrangement was filled with your favourite flowers.
Your mouth actually fell open. "What's going on?"
One of the servants laughed. "All from Mr. Kim, Miss Y/N."
You stared. Then another bouquet came through the door. Then another. Then another. "How many did he send?"
The servant looked down at a clipboard. Then back at you. "A lot."
"A lot isn't a number."
"I stopped counting after twenty-seven."
Your jaw dropped. "TWENTY-SEVEN?"
A second servant walked in carrying another arrangement almost as big as she was. "Twenty-eight."
You couldn't stop smiling. Your cheeks already hurt. The entire penthouse smelled like fresh flowers. It looked like a florist had exploded. You knew exactly who was responsible.
A small cream envelope poking out from the biggest bouquet caught your attention. Immediately you reached for it. The elegant black handwriting was unmistakable.
Your smile somehow widened even further. You opened it. Inside was a simple handwritten card.
I'm sorry for making your pretty head annoyed this morning.
Love, Mingyu.
You stared at it. Then laughed. Actually laughed. Because of course he wrote that. Of course he couldn't just apologise like a normal person.
No. He had apparently decided to purchase half of Seoul's flower supply instead. Your phone suddenly buzzed.
You didn't even need to check who it was.
Mingyu ❤️
"Flowers delivered?"
You rolled your eyes. Immediately typing back.
"You're crazy."
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
"Did you like them?"
"There's enough flowers here to start my own business."
"That's not an answer."
You looked around your kitchen. At the ridiculous number of bouquets. At your favourite flowers. At the handwritten note still sitting in your hand. Your heart softened despite yourself.
"Maybe."
A response arrived immediately.
"Liar."
You laughed.
"Maybe I liked them a little."
"Only a little?"
"Mhm."
"Interesting."
"Why?"
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then appeared again.
"Look out the window."
Your eyebrows furrowed.
You walked towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
"What now..."
Then you saw it. Far below. Parked outside the building. A familiar black luxury sedan. Your eyes widened. No way. Absolutely not.
Your phone rang before you could even think. You answered immediately. "What did you do?"
His laughter filled your ear. God. You could practically hear the grin.
"Go downstairs."
"Mingyu."
"Go downstairs."
"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
"I was."
"Was?"
"Then I started thinking about how cute you looked pouting this morning."
You covered your face.
"And?"
"And I missed you."
Your heart melted instantly. Traitor.
"So." You could hear him smiling. "Come downstairs."
You looked back at the mountains of flowers filling the penthouse. Then at the note still clutched in your hand. Then at the black car waiting below. A grin spread across your face.
"Mingyu."
"Yeah, baby?"
"You are so sweet." His laugh echoed through the phone.
genre: fluff, est. relationship. vernon is a mechanic because fuck yes.
wc: 1.6k
a/n: muhehehehheh. i hope the hansol nation enjoys this one 🫡 💋gonna tag eia @noniesgummysmile because she listened to me yap about this idea two days ago and enabling me. ily <333
It's a little past noon when you arrive at the downtown garage owned by your boyfriend. Sunlight spills through the trees shades, casting long shadows on the concrete pathway. Vernon is hunched over a car hood, his sleeves are folded upwards, highlighting the strain on his muscles as his veins bulge over while he puts pressure into tightening some screws. Sweat glistens on his forehead as he seems totally engrossed in work.
Vernon looks up as he notices footsteps approaching, a grin forms on his face, smiling as he sees you coming close, "hey baby" Vernon says as you walk in. You beam up at him, dangling a bag of snacks in the air.
"Look who's here." You smile walking over, leaning in as Vernon gives you a half hug.
"Sorry, got some mess over here." He says sheepishly as you look around the garage. There are tools and papers scattered all over. Not that you mind, the garage has always been like this whenever you come over.
"How long till you're done?" You ask your boyfriend leaning your weight against a pillar.
"Around 20 more minutes and I'm done?" Vernon shrugs as he spins the ranch in his hands, sending a wink your way.
You make a goofy face in return, flipping your hair off. Vernon laughs in response, the same familiar grin forming on his face.
"I'll be waiting for you over there then." You say as you walk to sit on a sofa at the corner. The fan is turned on and you sprawl yourself on the sofa deciding to wait for Vernon to complete his work before he can join you.
You've been scrolling through your phone, looking at your boyfriend working from time to time, the way his brows furrow as he fixes the broken car engine. Occasionally you talk to him, telling him about your day, and he's listening, humming as you go on. Today, it's taking him slightly longer to finish his work.
"And then…I was just petting the stray kitten but she decided to jump on my lap!!" You tell him excitedly about the little cat that comes visit you sometimes.
"Nonnie? Are you even listening? You ask when he doesn't respond.
"Oh uh yeah, what were you saying? He asks as he pops up from the other side of the car, where he was probably crouching down. Putting away his tools, vernon dusts off his clothes and stretches his arms, the movement accentuating his muscles. He looks over to you with questioning eyes, waiting for you to respond.
The words however die in your throat. You visibly gulp as you look over at him. Why is he looking so attractive when his hair is a mess and grease covers the front of his shirt. Even after dating him for so long, you still can't get over how handsome vernon actually is.
"Baby, why did you get quite suddenly?" Vernon says as he walks over to you. He takes his dirty t-shirt off and stands under the fan. His muscles and abs on direct display.
You look away when vernon notices you staring, the familiar smirk places on his lips.
"Nothing." You voice out, a little too quickly. "I was just saying you hate me because you kept me waiting for so long." You grumble folding your arms over your chest as you get comfortable lying on the sofa, suddenly very interested in noticing the scraping paint on the roof of the garage.
Your view however is obstructed rather quickly, and you find yourself caged between the sofa and your very handsome, very cocky boyfriend.
"Hmm." He murmurs. "Is that so?" Vernon asks you, his voice low and teasing as he tilts his head a little. He is too close to you. You can feel his breath, mingling with yours. You can feel him lowering himself on top of you. His lips brush lightly against your neck, as he places a feather light kiss over there. Feeling fluster by the sudden contact, you push him to the side. Standing up.
"Yeah. Totally. You were ignoring me right now. You definitely hate me." You say as you look back at him. You know you're just pulling his leg. Or trying to save face from how flustered you feel. By the looks of it, Vernon knows it too. He leans against the sofa head, legs stretched wide as he looks at your cheeks taking a slightly pink hue. Cute. He thinks to himself.
You walk over to one of the cars parked in the garage, standing there as you push a pebble to the side. "See that? oh how it feels to be ignored by my own beloved boyfriend" you all but pout up at him.
You're really cute like this, Vernon thinks to himself. Trying to act normal after seeing him shirtless as if it's not something you've been waking up to for ages.
"Okay." Vernon says humming to himself as he pretends to ponder. He discards his shirt to the side and walks over to you. Before you can even think, he is caging you between his body and the car.
"So I hate you huh?" He asks, looking directly at you. Hair strands cover his eyes, you can see the sheen of sweat on his forehead.
Once again you're rendered speechless as you stare at him, not being able to take looking at his eyes anymore, you look to the side. You can feel your ears running hot.
"Eyes on me babygirl." Vernon grabbing your chin and tilting your head so you look at him. His touch is surprisingly gentle despite the fact that his hands are calloused from working in the garage for hours. You look up at him, your eyes meeting each other, and Vernon can see the way your mind tries to hide your fluster behind that fake little frown.
"What" you grumble, though there is no fight in it.
"My girl just told me she thinks I hate her." Vernon says leaning impossibly close to you. His hand sneaks from your side to your back, moving under your tee shirt as he pulls you forward.
"Well," he drawls. "I can't have you going around thinking like that now, can I?" He asks with the familiar tease in his tone.
"Yeah, maybe you should kiss me to prove you actually care about me." You frown, lips down turned as you look at him.
"Maybe you're right. I should actually do that." Vernon hums, nipping at the skin your neck. He bites the skin as he leaves soft kisses to smooth the area. You're sure he's going to leave hickeys on you. Vernon's nose brushes against yours. He leans in, catching your lower lips between his own. He sucks on them softly. Your hands move from holding his back to grabbing his hair as you pull him down. A whine escapes your lips when you feel his hands trail lower and lower on your back, as you're pressed between his body and the car.
"Wait. What if someone sees us?" You asks breaking the kiss.
"Then let's give them a show baby." Vernon says catching you in another heated kiss.
Vernon kisses you like he is possessed. Like a man starved. Like you are the first meal he's had in days. Your lips move in rhythm, your lips part and his tongue finds it's way in, playing with yours in the same familiar rhythm. He continues to kiss you as his mouth swallows the little whines that escape you.
Your lips detach from his as you suck in a breath, but he's over you again, lips taking your own in another kiss, it's like he's conveying all of his love to you in the kiss. He leaves wet trails down your neck, pecking your cheeks. Rubbing circles around your back. He holds you close, his bare torso flush against your body. You pull him into another kiss, and he lest you take control. You kiss each other until that's all you can taste.
Vernon has his eyes closed as he holds you to him. His breath fans against your neck.
"Whoa. Ummm." You step back, looking at your boyfriend, his already tousled hair are somehow even more messy. His dark eyes look at you with the same emotion of love that he always carries for you.
"What is it, babygirl?" Vernon asks tilting his head. There is a teasing edge to his tone that tells that he has been enjoying your suffering.
"Can you not stare at me like that." You look at him with the best frown you can muster but your ears and cheeks are flushed. He's making you flustered. Damn him.
"Stare like what hmm?" Vernon asks but you're already just whining as you bury your face in his bare chest, holding your arms against his waist. "Ughhhhh. You're the worst."
Vernon has a cocky grin as he ruffles your hair, pressing his face against your head. "Keep saying that love. But we both know who's the flustered one here, he teases back." You try to stub your toe over his but he's fast, moving his feet to the side laughing at your attempt to hide how flustered you really are.
"Lest get you back home yeah?" He asks, as you lookup at him, still flushed, still pouting at him.
Vernon can't help but place his lips over yours, giving you another kiss. He loves you. He loves the way you act like you hate his touch, when it's the one thing you seem to crave. He loves kissing the shyness away from your lips. He's a man in love. And he won't have it any other way.
Everyone knows Seungcheol flirts his way through life. You’ve brushed him off so many times it's practically routine. He never pushes, so you've always taken it as harmless fun -- until something shifts, and you realise he's not as simple as you've convinced yourself he is.
⇢ pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader
⇢ genre: fluff, angst, idiots to lovers
⇢ wc: approx. 10k
⇢ warnings: daycare worker reader, firefighter!cheol, alcohol consumption, mentions of fire, miscommunication, reader is a little mean 😭
⇢ a/n: this is well WELL overdue because of. many reasons. so thank you so so soo much to the hosts of this collab for being so kind and understanding w extensions. it’s been a loooong time since ive been able to write but im so glad this is finally going out into the world 💗
⇢ as part of the carat’s ridge collab hosted by @imnotshua @starlightkyeom @100vern
YOU’VE WORKED AT Little Pines for just under three years now, long enough that you don't flinch anymore when a four-year-old screams directly into your ear for reasons that will never be explained to you, long enough that you've got a favourite chair in the break room and a mug that says WORLD'S OKAYEST TEACHER that your coworker Jiwon got you as a joke two Christmases ago and that you now use every single day out of spite.
“You're doing the thing again,” Jiwon says, not looking up from where she's cutting a stack of construction paper into slightly uneven ovals that will eventually become, God willing, eggs.
“What thing?”
“You've been staring at the door since 7:40. It's currently 8:05. Taehyun's mom's going to walk through it any minute now and you're going to jump like she caught you doing something illegal.”
“I wasn't staring at the door.” You absolutely were staring at the door.
“Okay.“ Jiwon holds up an oval that's more of a rhombus. “Do these look like chicken eggs to you?”
“They look like abstract art.”
She sticks her tongue out at you. “Okay, well, they're chicken eggs.”
Across the room, Soyeon — who technically works the front desk and has no real business in the classroom during the day, but wanders in anyway whenever she's got a free ten minutes — is refereeing a dispute over a single yellow crayon that has somehow become the most coveted object in the building. Two kids stand on either side of her, red-faced and furious, both absolutely certain of their claim.
“I had it first.”
“I had it first first.”
“There's no such thing as first first,” Soyeon says, with the weary patience of someone who's negotiated with cranky four year olds before breakfast and will again after lunch. “There are, however, eleven other yellow crayons in that bin. I checked.”
Neither kid finds this persuasive. You've learned, over three years, that most classroom diplomacy comes down to waiting people out rather than winning any actual argument, and sure enough, within ninety seconds both of them have abandoned the crayon entirely in favor of a much more interesting pile of dolls in the corner. Soyeon catches your eye over their heads and mouths good luck, and you give her a thumbs up you don't entirely feel yet as she disappears back to the office.
The door opens. It's Taehyun's mother, harried and talking rapidly about a meeting she's clearly already late for, depositing her son and his bag and a granola bar all in one motion before disappearing again in a cloud of strong perfume. Taehyun toddles toward the block corner without acknowledging either of you, which is, frankly, the daycare equivalent of a warm greeting.
You've got four kids in by 8:15, seven by 8:30, and by nine the whole room has that low hum of chaos that means the day's properly begun — someone building a tower, someone destroying a tower, someone crying about the tower's destruction with a passion. Chaewon, three going on forty, sits very seriously at the reading corner turning the pages of a picture book upside down and narrating it with complete confidence.
“That's not what it says,” you tell her, crouching down.
“I know,“ Chaewon says. “I made it better.”
You don't have a response to that, so you let her keep going.
By ten you've got the whole room moving through the usual currents — circle time, then centres, then the slow inevitable descent into midday crankiness over minor grievances that means it's almost snack time. You hand out orange slices and listen to a passionate, incoherent argument between two five-year-olds about whether dogs could, in principle, become doctors, a debate that resolves itself only when someone knocks over the entire bin of blocks and both parties get called away to help clean it up, already having forgotten what they were arguing about in the first place.
This is the shape of your days, mostly. Small disasters, smaller triumphs, a lot of glitter you'll find in your hair for a week afterward. You do like it — the specific way you like something you didn't expect to love. You'd taken the job out of necessity two summers after a psychology degree that hadn't led anywhere near where you'd planned it would; you'd pictured a clinic, or a research post, or at the very least something with your name on a door, not a room full of glue sticks and orange peels. But somewhere in the middle of your first year you'd looked up from tying somebody's shoe and realised you weren't counting down to anything anymore. You like the kids, you like listening to their absolutely nonsensical debates, and okay, maybe the tantrums aren’t exactly a plus, but when they hand you a badly coloured apple or give the sweetest compliments about your outfit on any given day, your whole heart melts. You think about it sometimes — grad school, or moving away, but never with any real intensity. It could happen, someday, but for now, you’re happy exactly where you are.
Sunday dinner at your mom's is a fixed institution, always at the same table, same mismatched chairs, same argument, most weeks, about whether the good tablecloth is really necessary for a meal that will inevitably involve your younger sister spilling something on it. Agreeing to dinner once a week was one of your mother’s few stipulations when you decided to move out. And now Yuna's twenty-two and home for the summer between the end of her graphic design degree in another city and the beginning of whatever comes next, and she's currently interrogating you about your love life with the particular shamelessness only a younger sibling can manage.
“So nothing's happening with anyone,” she says, not a question.
You roll your eyes. “Correct.”
“Nothing at all. Zero activity.”
“I have a very rich inner life, Yuna, it doesn't all have to be romantic. Hobbies. Friends.”
“I didn't ask about your inner life, I asked if you're seeing anyone.“ Yuna reaches across the table for the rice without asking, which your mother allows only from her, a fact that has been a point of argument for roughly twenty years. “You have like, two friends anyway.”
Unfortunately, your younger sister is entirely correct.
“I saw that lovely Choi boy last week, actually,” your mom says, entirely too casual about it, spooning more food onto your plate — which is her way of forcing you to stay in your seat. “He asked how you were doing. Very polite about it. He's always been polite, hasn’t he?”
You scoff. “He's flirting with the whole town, Mom, that's just what he does.”
“Mm,“ your mother says, which is not agreement, and also not disagreement, and is in fact the single most infuriating sound a mother can make. “He's been doing it a long time, though, hasn't he? Since you two were teenagers.”
“He asked her to proooom,” Yuna chips in, sing-song, and you promptly kick her under the table. “Ow! Mom!”
“That doesn't mean anything,” you say, over Yuna’s complaint.
“I didn't say it meant anything.” Your mother says it lightly, the way she says most things she actually means incredibly pointedly, a skill you're fairly sure you inherited directly from her and have spent years turning against her at this exact table. “I just think it's interesting that a man can ask about a woman for ten years and it doesn't mean anything, and a woman can turn him down for ten years and that doesn't mean anything either. Sounds like a lot of nothing happening for a very long time.”
“Can we talk about literally anything else,” you groan, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “In fact! We can talk about how Yuna still hasn't found a job,” you offer, and Yuna kicks you back under the table hard enough that you yelp, and your mother laughs, and the conversation moves on, mercifully, to safer ground — Yuna's job search, the neighbour's renovation, whether it's finally time to replace the good tablecloth — but you catch your mom looking at you once more over the course of the meal with an expression you don't examine too closely.
Here's the truth of it, if you're being honest, which you try not to be too often on this particular subject: Seungcheol's been flirting with you since roughly the ninth grade, in the low-grade, no-stakes way he’s never grown out of. But he also flirts with the guy at the post office. He flirts with Ms. Oh, who's sixty-one and unmarried and thinks he's a delight. He flirts with the bartender at the one good bar in town, who's engaged and finds it hilarious. It's not a thing you take personally, mostly, because it so clearly isn't personal — it's just the way it is with him, constant.
Except it's always felt a little more personal directed at you, and you've spent a lot of energy over the years making sure it never gets anywhere near landing.
You remember the prom thing specifically, with a clarity that time hasn't done much to soften — him leaning against your locker two weeks before, hands in his pockets, asking with a shrug that was trying so hard to look like it didn't matter, and you turning him down before he'd even finished the sentence, because Kim Daeun had told you the week before that he'd asked three other girls the exact same way, and you weren't about to be a fourth. You'd found out later that wasn't true, that you'd actually been the only one he'd asked, but by then the pattern was already set, the reflex already built, and reflexes, you've learned, are a lot harder to unlearn than they are to learn in the first place. He hadn't argued, hadn't sulked, had just said “your loss” and grinned and gone off to ask someone else's opinion on which tie to wear instead, and you remember watching him walk away and feeling, underneath the relief, something that took you another decade to correctly identify as disappointment.
There was something else, too, that came later, and you think about it more than you'd like to admit, because by then you weren't the same girl who'd turned him down at a locker. You were two years into a psychology degree, home for a fortnight over the winter break, feeling like a slightly different person in your own hometown, the way you always did those first few days back, still half in seminar-mode, still analysing everything, including, apparently, yourself. You'd been walking back from your mum's when the sky opened properly, no warning, the kind of rain that soaks through in under a minute, and a car had pulled up alongside you with its window already rolling down before you'd even registered whose it was. Seungcheol in his brother's beat-up sedan, hair already damp from getting out to jog around and open the passenger door for you before you could say anything.
“Get in,” he'd said, entirely reasonable, entirely obvious, and you'd stood there on the curb, drenched, freezing, genuinely unable to think of a single sensible reason to say no, and said no anyway. You'd told him you didn't mind the walk, which was a lie so transparent you'd half expected him to call it, and he hadn't, had just looked at you for a second too long, rain running down from his long fringe onto his cheeks, before he'd said, “Alright,” and driven off slowly.
You'd spent the rest of that walk soaked through and furious with yourself in a way you didn't have language for yet, turning it over with the same detached, clinical curiosity you were being trained to turn on everything else that year — why did you say no, what did you think accepting would cost you — and never quite landing on an answer you liked. You remember thinking, absurdly, that you'd learned more about avoidant attachment that semester than you'd ever wanted to know, and that none of it had stopped you doing exactly what the textbook said you would.
You remember the coffee, more recently, and the movie, and the wedding — Soonyoung's cousin's wedding, the one he'd asked you to as a plus-one with an actual paper invitation he'd apparently gone to the trouble of getting an extra copy of, which you'd found both sweet and alarming in equal measure and you had turned down within about four seconds of seeing it, before you could think too hard about why your hands had gone a little unsteady holding it.
You expect it now. Seungcheol borderline flirts every time he sees you; occasionally he pushes his luck and asks you out, with enough time in between that you can’t call him insistent.
Each time, you refuse it with the specific lightness of someone slamming a door gently enough that it doesn't look like she's slamming it. And each time he's taken it exactly the way he takes everything — with a grin, a shrug, a “your loss” tossed over his shoulder as he walks away completely unbothered, already on to the next joke, the next call, the next whatever.
So you do the same — you don't examine it. You put it in the same drawer where you keep most things you don't want to look at directly, close it, and go back to your life.
The same week you have that pointed dinner with your mom, you see him at the grocery store — or rather, he sees you. It's a Wednesday, nothing special about it, and you're standing in the cereal aisle trying to decide whether you actually need a box of the good granola or whether that's just a symptom of grocery shopping hungry, when a voice behind you says, “You're gonna want the other kind.”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, not even bothering to turn around. “I didn’t ask you, Seungcheol.”
“You didn't have to. You've been standing there for a full minute looking at that box.” Seungcheol's got a basket hooked over one arm, and the basket, when you glance at it, contains a box of protein bars, a carton of orange juice (with pulp, which, ew), and a single lime, which tells you absolutely nothing about what he's planning to cook tonight. “The one with the honey clusters. Trust me.”
“I don't take grocery advice from a man whose entire cart is a lime and protein bars.”
“It's a basket, not a cart, and I resent the implication that I don’t know how to grocery shop.” He leans against the shelf, unbothered, like he's got nowhere else to be — which, this being a Wednesday evening and him apparently off shift, he probably doesn't. “You still owe me an answer on Seokmin’s barbecue thing, by the way.”
“That was two years ago, Seungcheol.”
“I have a long memory.”
“You have a selective memory. You don't remember owing Soonyoung forty dollars, but you remember a barbecue invitation from two summers ago.”
“Different category of memory. One's debt. The other's an open wound.” He says it with a hand pressed dramatically to his chest, grinning, and you roll your eyes and put the honey clusters in your cart anyway, which he looks entirely too pleased about.
“Don't,” you say.
“Didn't say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was going to say I'm always right about cereal, but sure, put words in my mouth.“ He falls into step beside you as you push toward the dairy section, not because he needs anything there, you're fairly sure, but because this is also just how it goes, has gone, for as long as you can remember: running into each other in the produce aisle or outside the post office or at the one gas station, falling into the same easy rhythm you've had since you were teenagers — like the conversation never really stops, just pauses between sightings. “How's the daycare? Still winning?”
“Every day's a battle, but yes.”
“You could come to Seokmin’s barbecue this year. Renewing my invitation.”
“I'll think about it,” you say, which is what you always say, and he laughs like he already knows what that means, because he does, because you've been having some version of this exact exchange for the better part of a decade — him asking, lightly, for something, you deflecting, lightly, in return. Neither of you ever quite landing anywhere, both of you apparently fine with that. You part ways at the register, him with his lime and his orange juice and his protein bars, you with a cart full of things that will mostly go uneaten, and you don't think about it again until you're halfway through unpacking your groceries at home and realise you're smiling for no reason you can name.
It isn't all banter, though, and it would be doing the whole thing a disservice to pretend it is. There's a version of you two that has nothing to do with the game at all, that surfaces every so often, and you think about one particular evening more than you'd probably admit to anyone, including yourself.
You'd run into him at the diner on the edge of town, the one that's open too late and serves coffee that's either too strong or too watery. He'd been alone in a booth looking like a man who'd had a longer day than usual, sleeves shoved up, staring at a mug he wasn't drinking from. You'd almost kept walking.
“You look like you got hit by that truck of yours,”you'd said, sliding into the booth across from him without being invited, and his look of surprise when he saw you mirrored exactly how you’d felt at your own actions.
“Feels about right.” He hadn't tried to make a joke of it, which was how you knew it was serious. Seungcheol without a joke ready was rare. “There was a house fire. We got everyone out,” he adds quickly, “It’s just — the house. It’s fucked up. Like, it was a couple and their kids, and their dog, and they were — you know. Gutted. Crying and shit. The kids, especially.”
You hadn't said anything clever, because there wasn't anything clever to say, and you'd known enough not to try, from years of watching adults fumble around children in crisis and from a psychology degree that had, in fact, occasionally been useful.
“You did everything you could,” you'd said eventually, quiet, as he rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I know that's going to sound like nothing to you right now, but it’s true.”
He'd looked up at you properly then, something unguarded in his face that had nothing to do with flirting, nothing to do with the bit — just a kind of tired gratitude that made you want to reach across the table and grab his hand. “They teach you that in your psych degree or what?” he'd asked, attempting for a smile.
You mirror the smile, with a small shrug of your own. “Turns out it's good for something besides making me insufferable at dinner parties.”
That had got a real laugh out of him, short and surprised, and the two of you had sat there for another hour talking about nothing that mattered and everything that did — his brother, your sister,the particular dread of watching a four-year-old take a deep breath right before they’re about to scream the place down. He'd asked you, at one point, about college and your degree — he’d never been to college, of course, and he’d listened to the whole thing like it was the most interesting thing anyone had said to him all week.
You remember thinking, driving home that night, that you liked him best like this, unshowy, unarmoured, asking real questions and actually waiting for the answers — and you remember being immediately furious with yourself for thinking it, and filing the whole evening away in the same drawer as everything else.
Minji's been your friend since third grade, and she's the one person you still talk to who's known you both — you and Seungcheol — long enough to have a real opinion on the whole situation, which she airs freely and often. Today it's as she’s doing her nails, a shade of red she's had you hold the bottle for while she does the other hand, sitting cross-legged on her grandmother's back porch with two iced coffees sweating rings onto the railing between you.
“I saw Seungcheol at the gas station Tuesday,” Minji says without preamble, not looking up from her hand. “He asked if I'd talked to you lately. Very smooth about it. Very casual.“
“He's like that with—”
“If you say 'he's like that with everyone' I'm going to put this nail polish in your hair.“ She caps the bottle, finally looks at you, and there's none of your mother's careful lightness in it, just Minji's usual bluntness, worn soft by nearly twenty years of friendship. “I've watched this specific bit for ten years. I watched it in high school, I watched it through your entire early twenties,and at some point, as your best friend, I have to ask: what exactly are you so afraid of?”
You don’t answer straight away, dropping your gaze to the coffee. You take a sip, fiddle with the straw between your teeth before you sigh, tilt your head back towards the clouds. “He’s not serious. It’s like a game to him.”
“Did someone tell you that or are you just making up your own conclusions?” She arches a perfectly shaped brow. “It’s been years, ___.”
“Yeah, years of playful flirting. There’s literally nothing serious behind it — I turn him down and he laughs, Minji. It’s a joke. We both know it’s a joke.”
“Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like he’s been stuck on you since high school, and you’re too scared of yourself to even give him a chance.”
She always knows how to hit where it hurts, exactly when you need to be hit. Your mouth opens for a second, and then closes as you flounder for something to say. “He’s not stuck on me,” you say finally. “Seriously. We’ve both dated other people, in high school and after.”
“Don’t be purposefully obtuse, you know what I mean. He likes you.”
“Well, he’s never actually said that!”
“Purposefully. Obtuse.” She pokes your forehead after each word. “What are you protecting yourself from here?”
You close your mouth, silenced and sulking about it.
“Because it's not him,” she continues. “He'd catch you. He's been standing there with his arms out for a decade.”
“It's not that simple.”
“It's exactly that simple, you've just made it complicated on purpose because complicated is easier to dismiss than simple.“ She blows on her nails. “He likes you. You like him. It’s the simplest fucking thing ever.”
You don’t say anything, just scowl and sip your coffee. Your best friend is harsh on the best of days, and usually you like it — today, she’s said everything you don’t want to hear.
“Anyway. How's Chaewon? Is she still doing her pirate princess story?”
“She's added a supervillain.”
“Of course she has.” Minji grins, and the conversation slides, mercifully, sideways — into Minji's own things, a promotion she's up for, a guy she's seeing who she's not sure about — and you're grateful for it, for the reminder that your life has edges that don't touch Seungcheol at all, whole rooms of it that are just yours, just Minji's, just the ordinary unremarkable texture of having a friend since you were eight years old. But underneath the rest of the afternoon, everything Minji said keeps surfacing, quiet and insistently plaguing your thoughts.
It's a Tuesday, unremarkable in every way, when Ms. Oh — who owns and runs Little Pines — gathers the staff in the break room after the kids have gone home to go over the calendar for the next month.
“Also,“ she says, near the end, flipping a laminated sheet, “Fire Safety Day's the fourteenth. The station's sending a few of the firemen out to do the usual — stop, drop, roll, let the kids sit in the truck, the whole bit.”
“Cute,“ Soyeon says, refilling her coffee. “The kids’ll love it.”
“Who's coming?” Jiwon asks, because Jiwon asks things you'd rather she didn't, and you’re pretty sure she has a crush on one of Seungcheol’s coworkers, Wonwoo.
“Didn't say. Whoever's on rotation, I'd assume.” Ms. Oh moves on to the field trip permission slips, and you let out a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, and tell yourself, very firmly, that it doesn't matter who's coming. It's a fire station. There are, by your count, eleven firefighters in this town. The odds are fine. The odds are completely fine.
You avoid thinking about Choi Seungcheol for the rest of the day. Which is to say, you think about him constantly for the rest of the day.
The morning of the fourteenth arrives, and the kids are beyond excited. They’ve talking about it for a week — Chaewon's drawn what she insists is a fire truck and what everyone else agrees looks more like a very angry snail, and Taehyun's informed you three separate times, with the grave authority of a man delivering breaking news, that firemen have “actual axes.” You've got the kids lined up in the yard by ten, sunscreen reapplied, hats on, when the truck rolls up the gravel drive with the low satisfying rumble that makes every single child under the age of six lose their entire mind at once.
You see him before the truck's even fully stopped. Of course you do. He's hanging half out of the passenger side before it brakes, waving at the kids (who are adorably excited), and something in your chest does the thing it always does — a small, private, entirely inconvenient drop, like missing a stair in the dark.
Choi Seungcheol climbs down in his full gear, helmet under one arm, and crouches immediately to be at eye level with a cluster of four- and five-year-olds who are looking at him like he's personally invented fire trucks. “Who wants to sit in the driver's seat?” he sings, and the resulting scream from twelve small children could probably be heard three towns over.
He's good at this. You'll give him that, freely, the way you give him most things freely except the one thing he actually asks for. He crouches and jokes and lets Chaewon try on his helmet, which swallows her entire head, and gets down on the ground to show a rapt little semicircle of children how the hose attaches, and doesn't once break character even when Taehyun asks him, with total sincerity, whether he's ever fought a dragon. (“Couple times,” Seungcheol says. “Rough guys, dragons. Mostly it's the smoke.”)
The other two firefighters who've come with him, an older woman named Yerin and Soonyoung, who you’d also gone to high school with, do their parts fine, competent and pleasant and funny, but the kids gravitate to Seungcheol easily and instinctively.
You've managed, for a solid twenty minutes, to stay on the opposite side of the gaggle of kids, ostensibly ensuring Beomgyu keeps his hat on. It doesn't last. Around the time the kids are being herded toward the truck to take turns sitting behind the wheel, he peels off from the group and ambles over, helmet tucked under his arm, looking entirely too good for someone who's just spent twenty minutes being climbed on by preschoolers.
“You've got glitter on your face,” he says, by way of hello.
“I always have glitter on my face. It's basically work uniform at this point.”
“It's a good look on you.” He says it easily, the same way he says everything, but his eyes do a quick pass over you before landing back on your face with that brief dimpled smile, and you hate — hate — the small flicker of warmth that swells in your stomach.
“You didn't have to come,” you say, which isn't true, since he clearly did have to come, it's his job, but it's the fastest thing you can think to say that isn't I hoped you wouldn't and also knew you would.
“Somebody's gotta protect this town's youth from the dangers of unattended candles,“ he says solemnly. “It's a calling.“
“Right. Noble.” You pause. “They’re four, by the way.”
“Extremely noble. You should be nicer to me. I'm basically a public servant.”
“I'm always nice to you.”
“You're the meanest person I know,“ he says, delighted, “and I mean that as a compliment to your commitment.”
“Anyway,” he says, looking over to the truck. “The kids are gonna want to come to the station. We usually do that — let them see where the trucks live and everything. I can set it up with your boss if that's alright with you.”
“Sure,” you say, half-listening, half-watching the kids. You’re pretty sure Beomgyu and Yeonjun are going to trip, chasing each other like that. “Whatever's easiest.”
“You'll come too, right? Chaperone duty?”
“That's generally how field trips work, yes.”
“Good.” He says it satisfied, like it matters, and for just a second something honest surfaces under the joking — you catch it before he tucks it away again, the way you sometimes do, a flash of something steadier than the bit usually allows.
And then, before you can examine that, Chaewon comes sprinting over demanding to know if the truck can go faster than a police car, and he's gone again, crouched down explaining horsepower to a three-year-old with the same total sincerity he used on the dragon question, and you stand there for a second longer than you mean to, watching him, before you make yourself go help Yerin with the hose demonstration instead.
By the time the truck pulls away an hour later, every single kid in the yard is talking about the fire station visit like it's the moon landing. You've got a feeling you won't hear the end of it for a while.
You don't hear the end of it for a while.
For the better part of two weeks, the fire station visit's the single principle of every conversation the four-year-olds have. Taehyun draws the truck again, several times, with increasing and alarming detail about the axes. Chaewon stages an elaborate reenactment during free play in which she plays “the fireman” and assigns you the role of “the person who has to be saved,” which you accept with as much dignity as you can muster while lying on the carpet pretending to be unconscious as a group of kids tug at your legs. Jiwon, of course, finds the whole thing extremely funny.
The days have a way of absorbing whatever's going on with you and continuing regardless, which is, most of the time, a mercy. Circle time happens. Snack time happens. A minor crisis occurs when it's discovered that the class hamster, Mr. Biscuit, has gotten loose sometime overnight, and he's eventually located, after forty tense minutes and one very dramatic search party. Chaewon had refused to take part in said search party, and had instead spent the entire time in the reading corner, insisting Mr. Biscuit would “come back when he was ready,” which, infuriatingly, turns out to be correct.
You also go back to your evenings, which have nothing to do with any of it — a phone call with Yuna where she vents about her job search, an afternoon spent helping Minji repaint her spare room, a Sunday at your mom's where the subject of Seungcheol does not come up even once, a small mercy you're grateful for and slightly suspicious of. Life, in other words, keeps being a whole life, most of which has nothing to do with him at all, which is the thing you keep having to remind yourself of whenever it starts to feel otherwise.
Friday nights, when you're not too wrecked from the week, you go to the bar with Minji and Jimin and a few other friends, because it's the only bar in town worth it. It's not a big fancy place, with its low light, jukebox, and pool table with a wobble in one of the left legs, but it’s the only place to go, really, unless you want to make the drive into the city.
Minji drags you along after a week of promotion nerves and you go willingly enough. The place is familiar enough to be comfortable even after the tiring week you’ve had, but you’re not really looking to drink too much tonight.
You've had a few sips of a cocktail by the time the door opens and a loud group of off-duty firefighters spills in, mid-laugh, and naturally, Seungcheol's in the middle of it. He’s saying something that's got Soonyoung doubled over, and you feel the familiar lurch of oh, here we go before you've even fully processed that he's clocked you across the room.
“Oh, this'll be good,” Minji murmurs into her drink, and you kick her under the table, which only makes her grin wider.
You run into him often, at this bar, so seeing him isn’t really a surprise in itself. He grins at you as he and his friends make their way first to the pool table, and you return the gesture with an awkward nod, and somehow almost drop your drink in the process.
It’s maybe forty five minutes later that he actually comes over to you. He always does, at least once when you run into each other like this, always comes to say hi, which usually leads into some kind of line.
He waves Dohyun, the bartender, over and orders a whiskey on the rocks, and for a while you just talk, as the ice in his drink melts. Easy, unimportant things, the kind of conversation that happens naturally between two people who've known each other long enough that silence isn't awkward, just comfortable. He tells you about a call they had that week, a cat stuck in a drainpipe that took forty-five minutes and drew a crowd. You tell him about Chaewon's ongoing crusade against the concept of naptime, which makes him laugh so hard he has to put his drink down, not that he’s drank much of it. Somewhere in there Minji peels off to go play pool with Jiwon and Soonyoung, throwing you one loaded look over her shoulder on the way that you very deliberately ignore.
Somehow, the two of you have drifted from the bar itself to a booth in the back corner, and Jiwon's gone home with a wave you barely registered, and Minji's deep in a game of pool she's losing badly and loudly to Soonyoung, and you're sitting closer to him than you were an hour ago without being able to say exactly when that happened. He's telling you something about his brother’s wedding, some story about a groomsman and a dropped ring you're only half following because you've gotten distracted by the way he laughs at his own joke before he even finishes it, the way his hand's landed, at some point, loosely on the back of the booth behind your shoulders, close enough that you can feel the warmth of it without him actually touching you.
“You're not listening,” he says, not offended, just observing.
“I'm listening.”
“What'd I just say?”
“Something about a ring.“
“Close enough.“ He's looking at you in a way that feels different from the usual — like he's forgotten, for a second, to be charming about it. “You've got that look.“
“What look?”
“You’re totally zoning out. That look.”
You snort, aiming for humour. “I'm always zoning out around you.“
“I know,” he says, and there's something in his voice, something almost fond and almost sad at once, so much that it makes your levity fall flat and for a moment neither of you says anything at all. Then he smiles, “You always zone out anyway, though. I remember from school.”
“Please.”
“It’s true! I remember it happening in history class and Miss Lee had to snap her fingers in front of your face!”
Heat crawls up your face. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you remember that! That was in my first week, too, I nearly cried.”
“I remember,” he smiles. “Everyone was talking about the new girl who just moved to town and that was the first time I saw you.”
It's strange, the way ten years can gather themselves into a single quiet second like that — all of it sitting there in the space between his face and yours, close enough now that you can count his eyelashes if you wanted to, which you don't let yourself do, except you do anyway. You think, distantly, of Minji on the porch — he's been standing there with his arms out for a decade — and your mother at the dinner table — sounds like a lot of nothing happening for a very long time — and something in you that's held itself very carefully closed for a very long time simply, without your permission, stops holding.
He leans in, slow enough that you have every opportunity to move. You don't take it.
The kiss, when it happens, isn't clumsy at all, not at first — it's slow, almost unbearably so, like he's been waiting so long for it he's decided to actually take his time now that he's got it, one hand coming up to your jaw so lightly it's almost a question, and you answer it by leaning further in, by letting your hand find the front of his shirt and hold on, and you kiss him back like you mean it, because you do. Then his other hand finds your waist and yours finds the back of his neck and the two of you shift closer in the booth and it turns into something hungrier, less careful.
Somewhere in the bar, distantly, you hear Minji whoop, and you don't even have it in you to be embarrassed.
Then your brain catches up with the rest of you, the way it always eventually does, and you pull back, breathing hard like you've run somewhere. Seungcheol looks a little wrecked, the same way you feel, his hair mussed and his lips a little swollen, and you guess you must look something similar.
“I—” you start, and don't finish, because you don't actually know what comes next.
“Hey,” he says, low, steady, not moving away, his thumb still resting at your jaw like he’s catching up to the fact that you're pulling out of it. “It's okay, just — ”
“I shouldn't have — ” You're already reaching for your bag, your keys, anything to hold onto that isn't him. “I think I had too much to drink.“
“You didn’t even finish your cocktail,” he says, and he's not smiling now, which is somehow worse than if he had been. “Can we just — talk for a second? I've been wanting to say something for a while, and I know the timing's not— ”
“Cheol, I’m sorry — I — I really think I should go,” you’re fumbling with your bag and your words at the same time.
“I'm not trying to freak you out.” He says it gently, both hands visible now, like he's talking someone down off a ledge, which, you suppose, isn't entirely inaccurate. And his voice speeds up a little, because you’re still gathering your things and avoiding his gaze and it’s his turn to trip over his words: “I just — I like you. Like, actually. I know it's always been the bit, with us, and that's fine, that's — I get why. But I'm not messing around right now. I want you to know that. Can we just talk for a se—?” And he cuts himself off, because you’re standing up.
It's the most honest he's ever been with you, stripped clean of the performance, and it terrifies you in a way you don't have language for at eleven-thirty on a Friday with your pulse still loud in your ears. “Please,” he says, softly, so softly, and his hand brushes against yours, feather-soft. You make the mistake of looking, and he’s gazing up at you from the booth, his eyes pleading and brown and warm and serious.
“I have work in the morning,“ you say, which is a lie, and you both know it's a lie, it’s a fuckin Saturday, but he lets you have it anyway, some tired resignation moving through his face.
“Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay. Get home safe.”
Minji catches you by the door, pool cue still in hand, all the teasing gone out of her face the second she sees yours. “Hey,” she says, softer than you've heard her all night. “You good?”
“I don't know,” you say honestly, and she doesn't push, just squeezes your arm once and tells you she'll call a cab for both of you, and you let her, grateful, not for the first time, that she's known you long enough to know exactly when not to push.
You don't remember much of the ride home. Your hands are shaking slightly as you find your keys at your own front door, and you don't look back toward the bar even once, and you lie awake for a long time afterward turning the whole thing over and over in your head like a stone you can't put down, unable to decide which part scares you more — that he said it, or that some traitorous, long-buried part of you wanted to say something back.
You don't see him again for eleven days, which you know because you count, which you're furious with yourself for doing.
Life continues in the meantime, because it does that, indifferent to the small personal catastrophes you're nursing. There are snacks to portion out and scraped knees to bandage and an entire day on the letter Q that takes far longer than it has any right to. Chaewon's fireman reenactments continue unabated, blessedly innocent of the fact that you now flinch slightly every time she mentions the word. Jiwon notices you're off but, for once, has the mercy not to push, which you appreciate more than you tell her.
Sunday dinner happens in the middle of the eleven days, and you spend most of it pushing rice around your plate while your mother and Yuna talk around you, until your mother, halfway through clearing the table, pauses behind your chair and rests a hand briefly on your shoulder. Not asking anything, just letting you know she's noticed, which somehow makes it harder to hold together than if she'd asked directly. Minji calls twice and you let both calls go to voicemail, not because you don't want to talk to her but because you know exactly what she'll say, and you're not ready yet to hear it out loud, even though some louder part of you already knows she'd be right.
The field trip to the fire station is scheduled for the Thursday of that second week, and you've spent a genuinely humiliating amount of effort trying to get out of it. You ask Jiwon, with what you hope is believable casualness, if there’s any possible way Ms Oh would let you skip it and take a parent chaperone instead. She looks at you like you've suggested trading a kidney.
“Absolutely not. Do you know Ms Oh? No. You're going.”
You haven't been able to think of a version of the truth small enough to hand her, so you let it drop, and here you are on Thursday morning, herding twelve overexcited kids onto a rented minibus with the specific dread of someone walking toward a conversation she's been dodging for a week and a half.
The station's a squat brick building on the edge of downtown, garage doors up, two trucks gleaming in the shade, and the kids lose their minds the second the bus door opens. You busy yourself with headcounts and hand-holding, buying yourself as much time as you reasonably can before you have to actually look at him.
When you do, it isn't what you expect, and somehow that's worse.
Seungcheol is polite. That's the word for it, the only word, and it lands like a slap precisely because it's so foreign coming from him. He greets the kids with the same warmth as before — you'll give him that, he never once lets it touch them — crouching down, letting them climb the truck, patiently explaining the same things he explained a month ago in the daycare yard.
There's one second, early on, when he glances up and catches your eye across the garage and something almost warm flickers there on instinct, old habit, ten years of muscle memory — before he seems to remember, visibly, and shuts it down, his face resetting into something careful before he looks away again. You watch it happen and wish, immediately, that you hadn't seen it. But mostly, for the rest of the hour, there's none of the usual spark in his eyes when they pass over you, none of the teasing, none of the warmth that's always, always been there even when you were actively trying to shut it down. He nods at you once, says “morning,“ in a tone you've never heard him use on you before and then turns his attention fully to the kids and doesn't look at you again for the better part of an hour.
It should be a relief. Instead, it fucking stings.
Yerin gives the group tour of the trucks. Soonyoung lets three kids at a time try on a real helmet. Seungcheol does his part competently, kindly, and entirely at arm's length from you, and when the visit wraps up and the kids are being herded back toward the bus in a loose, sunscreen-smelling parade, you find yourself hanging back at the garage door while Jiwon does the headcount, because you can't make yourself walk away without saying something, even though you have no idea what the something is.
“Hey,” you say, inadequately.
He's coiling a length of hose that doesn't especially need coiling. “Hey,” he says, not looking up. “Kids have a good time?”
“They loved it. You're good with them.”
“Yeah, well.” He sets the hose down, finally looks at you, and his face is doing the thing it's been doing all morning — pleasant and closed-off.
“Seungcheol—”
“You should get back to the bus,” he says, not unkindly, which somehow makes it land harder than if he'd been sharp about it. “Don't want to lose a kid on my watch.”
It's a joke, technically, the shape of one, but it comes out flat, missing the thing that always makes his jokes land — that easy, unbothered warmth. You realise, standing there in the wide mouth of the garage with the smell of diesel and rubber hose around you, that you've finally managed it.
“Okay,” you say, because you can't think of anything else, and you turn and walk back to the bus, and don't let yourself look back at the garage until you're sure the kids can't see your face. You spend the entire drive back with a thick lump in your throat and something burning behind your eyes.
You don't sleep well that night, or the two after it. Your brain keeps circling back to the same three minutes in a garage no matter what you try to distract it with. You go through the motions of your days competently enough — nobody at Little Pines seems to notice anything beyond your slightly quieter mood, which you blame on being tired — but underneath the surface you're doing the thing you've always been careful never to do where he's concerned: you're actually thinking about it.
You skip Friday at the bar that week, and the one after, telling Jiwon and Soyeon you're just tired, which is half true. Minji shows up at your apartment uninvited the same night with a bag of takeout and an expression that says she's done waiting for you to call her back, and you let her in because you don't have it in you to pretend anymore, not to her.
“Okay,” Minji says, setting the containers out on your coffee table like she's settling in for a long negotiation, which, you suspect, she is. “Talk. All of it. I already know something happened at the bar, I was there for the whoop-worthy part, I just don't know the rest.”
So you tell her. All of it — the kiss, what he said after, the eleven days, the garage, the way his face had gone so carefully closed you almost hadn't recognised him. Minji listens without interrupting, which for Minji is its own kind of remarkable, and when you finally run out of words she doesn't say I told you so, which you'd braced for, and which you almost wish she had, because instead she just looks at you, steady and a little sad on your behalf, and says, “You know what you have to do.”
“I know what I have to do.”
“So why haven't you done it yet.”
“Because I've never actually done this before,” you admit, and it's the truest thing you've said out loud in two weeks. “Turning him down, that I know how to do. That's years of practice. I don't know how to do the other thing.“
“Nobody knows how to do the other thing,” Minji says, not unkindly. “You just do it anyway.”
You think about the ten years of it, after she leaves, sitting alone with the takeout containers cooling on your table — the prom, the rain, the coffee you never got, the wedding you didn't go to as anyone's plus-one, every single time you took the easy warm shape of his affection and handed it back to him like something you couldn't use.
You think about how none of it ever once made him flinch, how you told yourself that meant it didn't matter to him, when really (you can see it now, uncomfortably clearly) it probably meant the opposite. It meant he’d turned the flirting into a joke on purpose, so a no from you never actually cost him anything. But then — keeping it up, over and over, for years, because some idiotic, hopeful part of him had apparently decided you were worth that particular patience.
And you'd spent that same decade telling yourself it was nothing more than a bit, because the alternative — that it wasn't nothing, that it never had been, and that you might actually want it back — was a door you weren't ready to open.
By Sunday you’ve waded into your thoughts deep enough that you can't ignore it anymore. You sit on your kitchen counter with a cup of tea you're not drinking and you make yourself actually look at the thing you've kept in the drawer for ten years, and what you find, when you finally look, isn't complicated at all. It never was. You'd just been very good at making it look that way.
It occurs to you, sitting there with your tea going cold, that obviously, you’ve dated other people since the ninth grade, even been serious with one or two, and none of them ever tied you up in knots the way this has.
It’s not that they mattered less. It’s that none of them were Choi Seungcheol, who’d been the easiest person in your entire year to like, who’d had half the school a little bit in love with him since he was fifteen, and you’d been so sure back then that a boy like that leaning against your locker was a joke because the alternative — that he meant it, about you, specifically — just didn’t make sense.
It had been simpler, safer, to decide it was just Seungcheol being Seungcheol, the same warmth he handed out to the woman at the post office and the bartender at and anyone else unlucky enough to be standing in front of him, and to file yourself in with all of them instead of letting yourself be the one exception.
You call Jiwon, because you've run out of ways to have the conversation only with yourself, and because Minji's already said her piece and you want, this once, a second voice saying the same thing back to you before you trust it.
“Okay,” Jiwon says, once you've gotten through the whole thing, sitting cross-legged on your kitchen floor with your phone on speaker and a second cup of tea gone cold beside you. “So let me get this straight. You've liked him since — what, ninth grade?”
“I didn't say I liked him since ninth grade.”
“You basically said that.”
“I said I'd been turning him down since ninth grade, that's a different thing. I think it started as something silly. I haven’t been, you know, pining around for him for a decade straight, and neither has he.”
You can hear her moving around her own kitchen, a cupboard opening and closing. “Yeah, well. It seems like he’s been waiting for a chance for a decade, though.”
You don’t have anything to say to that. Jiwon continues anyway, so you don’t have a chance. “I genuinely thought you two just had a bit going. A little routine. I didn't realise that it was unresolved feelings the entire time, and I consider myself a fairly perceptive person, so, congratulations, you've out-repressed even me.”
“That's not a compliment.”
“It's not not a compliment.” A pause. “You're going to go find him, right? Not just think about it for another week.”
Your nose scrunches. “I might.”
“Don't. Go tonight. Or tomorrow. Just — don't let this be a thing you circle for another decade, you've circled it long enough.”
You laugh, the first real laugh you've managed in days, and it loosens something in your chest that's been sitting there, tight and small, since the fire station garage. “Tomorrow,” you say. “I'll go tomorrow.”
“Good. And tell me everything after. I mean everything.”
“I'm not going to tell you everything.“
“You're going to tell me everything,” Jiwon says, with total confidence, and hangs up before you can argue, which, you have to admit, is probably the correct read of the situation.
You find him on Tuesday evening, off shift, at the little park two streets from the station where you know — because everyone in a town this size knows everyone's habits eventually, whether they mean to or not — he sometimes goes to shoot free throws alone on the cracked half-court when he's got something on his mind.
Your hands are unsteady the whole drive over, and twice you nearly turn around, and both times you think of Minji on your couch, of your mother's hand on your shoulder, of Jiwon's voice on the phone, and you keep driving.
He sees you before you reach the fence, ball tucked under one arm, and for a second his face does something complicated — surprise, then that same careful, contained politeness from the fire station, sliding down over it like a shade.
“Hey,“ he says. “Everything okay? Kids alright?”
“The kids are fine. I'm not here about the kids.” Your voice sounds horribly strained. If he notices, he doesn’t comment, just waits, bouncing the ball once against the cracked asphalt like he needs something to do with his hands.
“I've been an idiot,“ you say, which isn't how you'd planned to start, but it's true, at least. “For, honestly, a really long time. I don't know how to say the rest of it in a way that doesn't sound like I practised it in my car on the way here, so I'm just going to tell you I practised it in my car on the way here and say it anyway.“
That gets the smallest flicker of something across his face — not quite a smile, but the ghost of one.
“I think I started off thinking you were teasing me, back in school. I thought it was a joke when you asked me to prom. And then after that I just needed you to be joking, because to me it didn’t make sense for you to be serious. And because the alternative meant I had to admit I wanted it too, and I didn't know what to do with that, so I kept handing it back to you instead.”
He sets the ball down against his hip, quiet, still watching you with an expression you can't fully read.
“And at the bar,” you say, “I panicked because I think I realised you meant it, and I realised I did too, and then, I don’t know, I just totally freaked. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously and I kept brushing you off and I was mean when you didn’t deserve it, and I’m really, really sorry.”
He's quiet for a moment, turning the ball slowly in his hands, and when he speaks again some of the careful politeness has gone out of his voice, replaced by something rawer, more tired. “I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t mean it. It was just — in high school, yeah, I had a crush on you. And then after, there would be whole stretches where I wouldn’t even think about it. I mean, you went to college and I went to the academy, and — then you’d show up again and, I don’t know. Especially when you moved back.” He pauses — the ball slips out of his hands, and you both watch it bounce to a stop. “You were always worth asking,” he says, finally. “I wanted the chance again, every time, even if you wouldn’t take me seriously.”
“I'm really sorry,” you say, and you mean it.
“Okay,” he says, soft, and something in his shoulders loosens. “Practised in your car,” he repeats, and there — there it is, the corner of his lips turning up, small and a little disbelieving, like he isn't sure yet whether to trust it.
“Don't gloat.”
“I'm not gloating. I'm saving this for later. I'm going to bring it up constantly.”
“There he is,” you say, and your own eyes are stinging in a way you choose to blame on the wind, and he crosses the distance between you, slower than at the bar, giving you every chance to step back, and you don't, and this time when he kisses you, there's nothing careless in it at all.
an: i did not intend for this to be so complicated i rewrote this three times with different plots and editing took way way longer than intended. idk. it’s nearly 4am and i need to sleep.
thinking about bf!seokmin who always doodles on your skin. stars, swirls, flowers, you name it. he always has a pen to your skin when your mind is elsewhere.
and it was no different when you came to him with faded red semicircles dotting your arms and a matching crease in your brow. it wasn't anything serious, you'd said, just gripped yourself a little too hard and your nails had left indents. that didn't explain your reclusive demeanor, though.
seokmin didn't pry. not now, there'd be time for that later. he just picked up a pen again and pulled you closer, rolling up your sleeve to see the whole canvas.
he started placing little dots along the concave sides of the indents. when he didn't seem satisfied with that look, he started drawing two parallel lines and little circles instead. soon each of the angry red crescents had a pair of pen marks to match.
you studied your new ink. "smiley faces...?"
he nodded, his eyes disappearing into crescents themselves as he smiled. "first thing that came to mind, and besides--" He rotated your arm a bit to draw a small heart on an open patch of skin. "--now you've got a little bit of happiness to carry with you wherever."
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hellloooo~ its been a while🫣 im going to let you in on a secret... this has been in my drafts since last year😅 it was suppposed to be the bday special last year but i ended up writing another one, then i thought why not post it now. just full of cuteness and fluffs, hope you like it!
to my luckiest charm, my buldak loving, my jeon wonwoo, i hope all good things come to you. be happy always, happy birthday uno🤍
A space filled with glowing monitors, neatly arranged figurines, and the soft hum of his gaming setup. You’ve always loved how focused he looks when he’s streaming, the way his glasses slightly slide down his nose as he leans toward the screen, completely engrossed in the game.
He’s live right now, his calm voice carrying through the slightly ajar door, chatting with his viewers. You tiptoe inside, careful not to disrupt his flow, a small tray of snacks in your hands. His viewers know about you but have never seen you. he’s protective that way. But you love these little interruptions, these secret moments that are yours alone to witness.
You place the tray quietly on his desk, just out of view of the camera. Wonwoo notices immediately, his lips twitching into a subtle smile as he mutes his mic for a moment. “Thanks, love,” he murmurs, his tone so soft it makes your heart flutter.
Before he can unmute, you lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His ears turn red instantly, but he plays it off like a pro, his fingers never leaving the keyboard
The chat, though, picks up on everything
“Did he just smile?!”
“The girlfriend energy is real.”
“He’s blushing. We saw that.”
You giggle silently, watching as Wonwoo clears his throat and tries to focus. But you’re not done yet. Looping your arms around his shoulders, you press a feather-light kiss to the corner of his lips this time.
He freezes for half a second, his character taking a hit in the game, and you stifle a laugh
“Y/N…” he whispers, a mix of exasperation and affection in his voice
You just grin, slipping out of the room before he can say more.
Curiosity gets the best of you as you cozy up on the couch with your phone. Wonwoo’s stream is still going, but you’ve tuned in now not for the gameplay, but for the aftermath of your little interruption.
The chat is in full-blown chaos
“He’s so soft when he talks about her. We’re all just third-wheeling.”
“SHE BROUGHT HIM SNACKS?? Marriage material. Period.”
“Did anyone else see him freeze for like half a second? That kiss hit DIFFERENT.”
“WONWOO BLUSHING IS MY NEW FAVORITE THING.”
You can’t help but laugh softly, biting your lip as you scroll through. Wonwoo’s viewers are sharp—they don’t miss a single detail. Some are spamming heart emojis, while others are typing theories about how you must’ve kissed him again since he looked extra flustered for a few moments.
You spot one comment that makes you snort
“Legend says she’s the reason he can’t aim today.”
Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the stream, his tone steady but tinged with a softness only you can detect. “You guys are imagining things,” he says, adjusting his glasses like it’ll somehow hide the faint blush still dusting his cheeks.
The chat erupts:
“WE SAW IT, WONWOO. DON’T LIE.”
“Man’s trying to act cool, but we all know he’s whipped.”
“Can you blame him? She seems perfect.”
You feel your heart swell at the kindness of his community. They’ve always been so respectful, never prying too much, but it’s clear they adore seeing this softer side of him.
Still smiling, you type a quick comment from your anonymous account:
“He’s lucky to have her, but I bet she feels just as lucky.”
The chat agrees instantly, flooding the stream with affirmations. Wonwoo chuckles, as if he’s seen your comment and knows it’s you. “Yeah,” he murmurs, almost too quietly for the mic to pick up, “I really am lucky.”
And just like that, you’re blushing too.
=
GAMEBOI EP.18
You didn’t realize Wonwoo was streaming when you wandered into his gaming room. He’d been spending more time at his desk lately, and you missed having him to yourself. So, without much thought, you pushed open the door, spotting him seated comfortably in his chair, headset on, fingers flying across the keyboard.
He looked so effortlessly handsome that you couldn’t resist. You padded over quietly, and before he could react, you slid onto his lap, straddling him, your arms draping around his shoulders. His hands faltered on the keyboard for half a second before they steadied again.
“Hey,” you murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, not noticing the faint red light of his camera indicating he was live
Wonwoo’s lips quirked into a small smile, his gaze darting between you and his monitor. He moved his mic slightly to the side, speaking low enough so only you could hear.
“I’m streaming right now.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could scramble off, he rested a hand lightly on your waist, holding you in place
“It’s fine,” he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring
The chat, of course, noticed immediately
“Did someone just sit on his lap?!”
“Wonwoo is too calm for this. I’d be losing my mind.”
You buried your face in his shoulder, embarrassed, as he adjusted his glasses and continued playing
“Just my girlfriend,” he said smoothly, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather “She’s comfy, so she’s staying.”
The chat exploded
“Just his girlfriend??? SIR??”
“We’re all just gonna pretend that didn’t happen???”
“HE REALLY SAID SHE’S STAYING. DEAD.”
You peeked over your shoulder at the chat, your back still to the camera, and stifled a laugh. Wonwoo caught the sound and smiled, one hand subtly rubbing soothing circles against your side.
“What? She’s cute,” he added, his voice nonchalant but laced with affection “Can’t exactly say no.”
The chat was a mix of chaos and adoration
“They’re too cute. I’m crying.”
“Wonwoo’s girlfriend is living the dream.”
“He’s too calm for this. WHIPPED.”
You whispered against his neck “You’re gonna regret letting me stay here.”
Wonwoo tilted his head slightly to look at you, his expression soft
“Never,” he murmured, loud enough for only you to hear
And so, you stayed, perfectly content in his lap, while his chat buzzed with endless speculation and envy over how effortlessly lucky the two of you seemed.
As you stay nestled comfortably on Wonwoo’s lap, his calm demeanor makes you almost forget that he’s still live. That is, until his eyes flicker to the chat, and a faint smirk begins to tug at his lips.
“They’re having a field day,” he murmurs, his voice low and amused as he scrolls through the comments
You lean slightly to the side to sneak a glance at the chat, still careful to keep your back to the camera. What you see makes you stifle a laugh.
“He’s literally the calmest man alive. HOW??”
“Wonwoo’s girlfriend is living rent-free in my dreams right now.”
“She’s not even on camera, and they’re this cute. I can’t take it.”
“Sir, please blink twice if you’re okay.”
“Blink twice, huh?” Wonwoo says, reading that one out loud with a small chuckle. He glances at the camera and, for dramatic effect, blinks twice. “There. Satisfied?”
The chat goes wild.
You press your forehead against his shoulder, laughing quietly. “They’re obsessed,” you whisper, teasing him.
“You think?” he replies, his hand resting lightly on your waist as he continues to read “They’ve got good taste.”
You swat at his chest playfully, but he doesn’t miss a beat “Someone said you’re living rent-free in their dreams,” he says, his tone laced with humor. “Should I be jealous?”
“Oh, absolutely,” you quip back, matching his energy
He smirks, glancing down at you briefly “I’ll allow it—for now.”
The chat catches on immediately
“WHY IS HE SO SMUG?!”
“Wonwoo, don’t act like you’re not living the dream too.”
“This is relationship goals to the max.”
Wonwoo leans closer to the mic, his tone teasing as he addresses his audience “You guys really want hints, huh? Well, here’s one: she’s cuter than all of you combined.”
Your jaw drops at his boldness, and you lightly smack his shoulder, your cheeks burning. The chat explodes.
“STOP, I CAN’T HANDLE THIS.”
“HE’S SO WHIPPED. I LOVE THIS FOR HIM.”
“Wonwoo, PLEASE teach me your ways.”
You laugh against his shoulder, shaking your head at how effortlessly he handles everything. “You’re impossible,” you whisper, but there’s no real bite to your words
“And you’re stuck with me,” he murmurs back, his voice warm and steady, as the chat continues its collective meltdown.
=
GAMEBOI EP.19
Wonwoo leans back in his chair, adjusting his headset as he addresses the chat. “Alright, we’re doing a short Q&A today,” he announces, his calm voice carrying a faint hint of amusement
“But judging by the chat already, I think I know where this is going.”
The messages flooding in confirm his suspicion
“TELL US ABOUT HER!”
“What’s your favorite thing about your girlfriend?”
“How did you meet her?”
“When is she making her debut?”
Wonwoo chuckles, pushing his glasses up
“You guys are really persistent, huh? Fine, I’ll answer a few questions about her but don’t expect too much. Gotta keep some things private.”
The chat erupts with excitement.
The first question he picks catches him off guard
“How did we meet?” he reads aloud. He smiles softly, clearly fond of the memory
“We met through mutual friends. She wasn’t really into gaming at the time, but somehow, we ended up talking about it anyway. I think I managed to convince her I was interesting.”
You’re watching the stream from the other room, smiling to yourself as you hear his calm and collected tone.
Another question pops up, and Wonwoo reads it with a faint blush. “‘What’s your favorite thing about her?’” He hesitates for a moment, his gaze dropping to his desk before he smiles. “That’s hard to answer because there’s too much to choose from. But if I had to pick one… it’s probably how she makes everything feel easy. Like, no matter how stressful the day is, she has this way of making me feel calm.”
The chat immediately floods with heart emojis
“OMG STOP, THAT’S SO SWEET.”
“Wonwoo is too soft for this world.”
“They’re definitely soulmates. I’m crying.”
He clears his throat, clearly a little shy from how emotional he’s getting
“Next question.”
“‘Will she ever show up on stream?’” He smirks at this one
“Probably not. She likes keeping things private, and I respect that. But who knows? Maybe you’ll get another random cameo like last time.”
The final question he picks makes him laugh outright “‘Does she game with you?’”
He shakes his head “Not really. She says I’m too competitive, but she’ll sit next to me and give commentary. It’s entertaining, even if she doesn’t realize it.”
The chat loves it.
“She’s a queen, clearly.”
“The way he talks about her is so soft.”
“We need her commentary one day, please.”
Wonwoo glances at the camera, his expression warm “Alright, that’s enough about her for now. She’ll get a big head if she knows how much I talk about her.”
You roll your eyes, watching as the chat explodes in protests. He ends the Q&A with a knowing smile, saying, “Thanks for indulging me, though. I’m glad you guys like her as much as I do.”
And just like that, the chat turns into a mix of swooning and playful jealousy, but all you can do is grin, feeling incredibly lucky to have someone who loves you so openly, even if it’s mostly behind the scenes.
=
GAMEBOI EP. 20
The idea caught you off guard when Wonwoo asked, “Wanna play with me on stream?” His tone was casual, but you could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes.
You hesitated for a moment before agreeing, on one condition: you wouldn’t be on camera
“Deal,” he said, a soft smile tugging at his lips “But you better carry the team.”
You laughed at that “You know I’m terrible at this game, right?”
Now, sitting beside him in his gaming room, you had a controller in hand, your nerves barely contained as his stream began. Wonwoo was in his usual calm, composed mode, greeting his viewers like he always did.
“Alright, we’re doing something different today,” he announced, his voice steady “I’ve got a special guest playing with me.”
The chat immediately picked up on it
“Wait, is it HER???”
“OMG, SHE’S PLAYING?”
“We’ve been blessed. The queen has arrived.”
You could feel your face heating up, even though no one could see you. “Do they always hype things up this much?” you whispered
Wonwoo chuckled, muting his mic for a second to glance at you. “Get used to it. They’re like this every time I mention you.”
Once the game started, you tried your best to keep up, but your clumsy movements and inability to aim properly became painfully obvious. It didn’t help that the chat was fully invested in your gameplay.
“She’s adorable, I just know it.”
“Is she new to the game? Wonwoo, help her out!”
“THIS IS THE CUTEST STREAM EVER.”
Wonwoo was the perfect balance of supportive and teasing. “You’ve got this,” he said whenever you struggled. And when you accidentally ran straight into an enemy, he couldn’t help but laugh softly “Well, that’s… one strategy, I guess.”
“Hey!” you protested, pouting as you respawned. “I’m trying!”
Eventually, you managed to get a single kill, and Wonwoo clapped softly, genuinely impressed. “Look at you,” he teased. “A natural-born gamer.”
You rolled your eyes. “I think I just got lucky.”
“You mean we got lucky,” he said smoothly, glancing at the chat as it collectively melted
By the end of the stream, you were exhausted but couldn’t stop smiling.
As Wonwoo wrapped up, he leaned into the mic “Thanks for being nice to her, guys. She did great, didn’t she?”
The chat agreed wholeheartedly
“She’s amazing! Bring her back!”
“Stream of the year. We need more.”
“Wonwoo and his girlfriend are goals.”
He muted the mic for a moment, turning to you with a proud smile “Told you they’d love you.”
You grinned, leaning your head against his shoulder “I guess I’ll play with you again sometime… but don’t expect miracles.”
“Don’t worry,” he said softly, his voice just for you. “You’re my favorite teammate, no matter what.”
=
GAMEBOI EP. 21
It started as a simple task—helping Wonwoo reorganize his game room. The two of you spent hours sorting through cables, lining up monitors, and adjusting shelves. It was fun in its own way, especially since he’d sneak in a kiss or two every time you passed by him.
While rummaging through a box of his old gear, you pulled out a sleek mechanical keyboard. The pastel-colored keycaps immediately caught your eye, but what hooked you was the sound. As soon as you pressed one of the keys, a soft, melodic “click” echoed, and your face lit up.
“This is so cute!” you exclaimed, pressing a few more keys just to hear the satisfying sound
Wonwoo looked up from where he was sorting controllers, a small smile playing on his lips “You like that one?”
“I love it,” you said, grinning as you continued typing nonsense, the sounds filling the room “It’s so fun to press.”
He chuckled, walking over to take a closer look “That one’s been sitting in storage for a while. I didn’t know you’d like it so much.”
You pouted at him playfully “Why don’t you use it anymore?”
“It doesn’t match my current setup,” he explained, but his expression softened as he watched you happily tapping away “You can use it if you want, though.”
You waved him off “It’s fine! I don’t need a keyboard—I don’t even have a setup to use it with. But this one’s adorable.”
Wonwoo didn’t say much after that, just smiled knowingly and went back to organizing.
A few days later, he called you into the gaming room. You stepped inside to find a brand-new keyboard sitting on the desk, nearly identical to the one you’d fallen in love with, but customized just for you. The keycaps were a mix of soft pastel shades, and the switches made that same delightful click you adored.
Your jaw dropped “Baby, did you…?”
“I figured you should have your own,” he said casually, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed but the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed his nonchalant tone
“You kept talking about how cute it was, so… here.”
You rushed over, wrapping your arms around him tightly “This is the sweetest thing ever. Thank you!”
He laughed, returning your embrace “You’re welcome. Now you can pretend to game with me whenever you want.”
You pulled back, grinning “Who says I’m pretending? This keyboard’s going to make me a pro.”
The chat during his next stream couldn’t stop talking about the faint sound of your keyboard clicks in the background, further solidifying your place as their favorite off-camera addition to Wonwoo’s world.
Wonwoo was in the middle of one of his usual chill streams, chatting with his viewers while casually clicking through his game’s menus.
You were sitting beside him, happily typing away on your new pastel mechanical keyboard. Every now and then, he’d glance at you, a small smile tugging at his lips whenever he heard the familiar clicks.
At some point, you nudged him gently, grinning
“Hey,” you whispered, leaning closer “Can I show them my new keyboard?”
He raised an eyebrow, amused “You want to?”
You nodded enthusiastically, and he chuckled, turning back to his mic “Alright, so… she wants to show you something.”
The chat immediately erupted
“WAIT, SHE’S HERE??”
“SHOW US, QUEEN!”
“WE FINALLY GET TO HEAR HER???”
Wonwoo muted his mic for a second and turned to you, his expression soft “You can stay off camera. Just hold it up in front of mine, okay?”
“Got it,” you said, your voice full of excitement
He unmuted, and you carefully leaned over, holding your new keyboard up so it appeared on his screen, just above his handcam. The pastel colors gleamed under the soft lighting, and your fingers tapped a few keys, letting the viewers hear the satisfying clicks.
“OMG IT’S SO CUTE!!!”
“SHE HAS THE SAME VIBES AS HIM, I SWEAR.”
“THOSE CLICKS. I NEED THAT KEYBOARD.”
Wonwoo smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction “Yeah, I got that for her. She’s been obsessed with it ever since.”
You laughed softly, your voice reaching his mic “How could I not? It’s perfect!”
Your hands lingered in the frame for a moment longer before you pulled the keyboard back to your lap, laughing as the comments kept flooding in. “They’re so dramatic,” you whispered to Wonwoo.
“They always are,” he replied, his tone fond. Turning back to the stream, he added “Alright, that’s all you get. She’s shy.”
You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully, but the warmth in his tone made your heart swell.
As he continued chatting with his viewers, you stayed by his side, quietly typing away, your keyboard’s clicks filling the background. And if he occasionally glanced at you with the softest smile? Well, that was just for you.
=
GAMEBOI EP.22
The moment you walked into the computer parts store with Wonwoo, your eyes lit up at the sheer number of shiny, colorful gadgets around you. It was like stepping into a candy store but for tech you didn’t understand.
Wonwoo had come prepared with a list and a clear purpose, but it was quickly derailed the moment you started wandering off “Ooh, look at this!” you exclaimed, holding up a pastel pink mouse from one of the shelves.
He glanced at you, amused “That’s a gaming mouse. Do you even know what DPI is?”
“Not a clue,” you said proudly, “but it’s cute, right?”
He laughed, shaking his head “Yeah, it’s cute.”
You put the mouse in the cart with zero hesitation, earning another chuckle from him “You know we’re here to buy parts for my setup, not to make yours prettier, right?”
“But what’s the point of a setup if it’s not cute?” you countered, already wandering off to another aisle
Every few minutes, you’d come back to him holding something pastel or RGB-lit “Babe, look at this fan! It lights up!” you said, spinning the blades
“That’s an RGB fan,” he explained patiently, trying not to laugh at how excited you looked
“Do you need it?”
“I already have better ones,” he said, gently taking it from your hands. But you’re adorable for trying.”
Not long after, you found a pastel purple keyboard and rushed over to him “This matches my mouse! Can I—”
“Yes,” he said before you could even finish, grinning “Just put it in the cart.”
You blinked “You’re not even going to argue?”
“Why would I? You’re clearly having the time of your life.”
The rest of the trip continued in the same way, with you picking up random items like cute cable organizers, a pastel monitor stand, and even a mousepad with tiny hearts on it. Wonwoo didn’t complain once, just followed you around with the cart, his smile growing wider every time you lit up at something new.
By the time you reached the checkout, the cart was a mix of his practical parts and your colorful additions
“You’re really letting me get all this?” you asked, slightly guilty but mostly excited
He shrugged, his tone casual but affectionate
“It’s worth it to see you this happy.”
As you leaned up to kiss his cheek, Wonwoo couldn’t help but think how easy it was to spoil you. Sure, his gaming setup wasn’t going to match with all the pastel you’d picked out, but he didn’t care. Seeing you this excited? That was worth more than any high-tech upgrade.
Wonwoo’s next stream started like any otherhis calm voice greeting the chat as he settled into his chair, adjusting his headset. Except this time, you were sitting beside him, just out of the camera’s view, quietly unboxing all the cute, pastel-colored items you’d convinced him to buy during your trip to the computer store.
About fifteen minutes in, the chat picked up on something.
He glanced at you, smirking “They’re already asking about you,” he said softly, leaning closer to his mic “Wanna show them what you bought?”
You hesitated for a second before grinning “Only if you introduce it properly,” you teased, nudging his arm
Wonwoo chuckled, shaking his head “Alright, guys. She went on a pastel shopping spree, and she’s way too excited to show it off. But she’s staying off-camera, so don’t get your hopes up.”
Sliding into the frame, you held up the pastel pink mouse first “Ta-da! Isn’t it cute?” you said, your voice light with excitement as you turned it so the camera caught all the angles
Next, you grabbed the pastel purple keyboard and tapped a few keys, letting the soft, satisfying clicks echo through his mic
“This is my favorite,” you said proudly “It matches the mouse!”
The chat was eating it up.
“THE KEYBOARD IS PERFECT.”
“She really went full pastel gamer, huh?”
“Wonwoo, you’re gonna have to build her a whole setup now.”
One by one, you showed off the rest of your haul: the pastel monitor stand, the tiny heart-patterned mousepad, and even the cute cable organizers. Every time you held something up, the chat flooded with compliments and playful comments.
At one point, someone asked: “Wonwoo, how much of this trip was her idea?”
“All of it,” he replied immediately, smiling as he glanced at you “But I didn’t mind. She was like a kid in a candy store. How could I say no?”
You playfully elbowed him, making him laugh even harder “You’re making me sound so dramatic!”
“Because you were,” he teased. “But it was adorable.”
By the time you finished showing off everything, the chat was begging for more appearances from you. You shook your head, laughing
“This is Wonwoo’s stream, not mine!”
He leaned into his mic, his tone soft but playful
“Maybe for now. But if she keeps this up, she’s gonna have a better setup than me.”
The chat exploded with laughter and agreement, and as you sat back beside him, quietly typing on your new keyboard, Wonwoo couldn’t stop smiling. It was a simple, silly moment, but to him—and his viewers—it was perfect.
=
GAMEBOI EP. 23
During one of Wonwoo’s chill streams, he suddenly leaned back in his chair, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “So, I found something funny the other day,” he began, glancing at the chat
“Do you guys want to see a video of my girlfriend struggling to help me set up this chair?”
“YESSS PLEASE!”
“We love her content already.”
“Wonwoo, don’t expose her like this!”
He chuckled, reaching for his mouse “Don’t worry, her face isn’t in it—just her voice. But trust me, it’s worth it.”
As he clicked play, the video popped up on stream. The camera was propped up on a desk, capturing the scene of a partially assembled gaming chair and your hands fumbling with a screwdriver.
In the clip, your voice rang out, frustrated but determined
“Wait, wait—what do I do with this screw? It doesn’t fit! Are you sure this is the right one?”
Wonwoo’s voice came from behind the camera, calm and amused “Yes, it’s the right one. You just need to turn it the other way.”
“I am turning it the other way!” you huffed, the sound of the screwdriver slipping making him laugh behind the camera
“You’re turning it the same way,” he corrected, his tone dripping with laughter
“Wonwoo, I swear, if you’re filming this right now—”
The clip ended with you groaning dramatically while he laughed, and the chat absolutely exploded
“SHE’S SO CUTE OMG.”
“The frustration in her voice is sending me LOL.”
“Wonwoo, you’re a menace for recording this.”
Wonwoo leaned back, grinning as he read the comments
“Yeah, she was so mad when she realized I filmed it,” he admitted, his voice fond “But she eventually got the screw in. She just… needed a little extra guidance.”
You yelled from the other room, loud enough for the mic to pick up: “I got it in all by myself, thank you very much!”
Wonwoo laughed, turning his head slightly toward where you were sitting off-camera “Do you want to defend yourself, or are you going to let me keep telling my version of the story?”
“I don’t need to defend myself,” you called back “The chair’s standing, isn’t it?”
He turned back to the camera, shaking his head but smiling warmly
“She’s not wrong. The chair’s perfect. But man, that setup process was something else.”
The chat kept teasing both of you for the rest of the stream, and Wonwoo couldn’t stop grinning. He didn’t even care if they joked at his expense. it was worth it, just to share a little piece of your chaotic, everyday moments with his viewers.
=
GAMEBOI EP.24
Wonwoo was mid-stream, fully immersed in his game, when the chat suddenly noticed something. His posture stiffened slightly, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips—a telltale sign that something was happening off-camera.
The viewers were quick to pick up on it.
“SHE’S THERE AGAIN, ISN’T SHE?”
“It’s koala time, guys.”
“Wonwoo looks like he’s bracing for something LOL.”
And sure enough, a moment later, you appeared in the frame, just slightly out of view, your arms looping around his shoulders as you leaned into him
“Baby” you murmured, your voice soft and sleepy
He glanced at you briefly before returning his focus to the screen “You okay?” he asked, though his tone was already filled with fondness
“Mhm. Just wanted cuddles,” you mumbled, wrapping yourself around him like a koala. Your legs dangled over the side of his chair as you clung to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck.
Wonwoo smiled slightly, his free arm instinctively wrapping around your waist to steady you. “You’re gonna make me lose this match,” he teased, though there was no real complaint in his voice
“I don’t mind,” you replied, your voice muffled against his shoulder
He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Chat, this is my life now. I’m trying to carry a team, and she’s over here trying to turn me into a human pillow.”
“Pillow privileges only for her!”
“She’s living the dream.”
“Wonwoo’s so whipped, it’s adorable.”
Eventually, the game ended, and he leaned back slightly, giving you a chance to reposition. “You good now?” he asked, looking at you with a playful smile
You shook your head, clinging tighter “Nope. Still need more cuddles.”
He sighed dramatically, though the grin on his face gave him away. “Guess I’m not going anywhere then,” he said, turning back to the chat
“Sorry, guys, looks like I’m stuck here.”
The chat erupted with laughter and affection, fully entertained by your antics. And as Wonwoo continued his stream, your arms stayed securely around him, your presence as comforting to him as it was chaotic.
=
GAMEBOI EP.25
Wonwoo decided to do something special for his birthday stream—a long, cozy session until midnight. His viewers were thrilled, and the chat was buzzing with excitement, sending him birthday wishes and teasing him about how he was spending his special day with them instead of celebrating offline.
As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Wonwoo glanced at the time with a subtle smile, clearly anticipating something. "Alright, guys," he said, leaning back in his chair
"I think it's about time to wrap things up soon. But before we go, I have a little surprise for you."
The chat erupted.
“WHAT SURPRISE???”
“Don’t play with us, Wonwoo!”
“You’re really gonna make this stream legendary, aren’t you?”
Just as the clock struck 12, you appeared from behind him, holding a small cupcake with a single candle lit.
"Happy birthday, Wonwoo!" you said softly, your voice warm and full of love.
Wonwoo turned his chair slightly, giving the viewers a brief glimpse of you as you leaned down to give him a quick kiss. The moment was fleeting—your smile, the cupcake, and your kiss—but it was enough to send the chat into a frenzy
“SHE’S REAL OMG.”
“The mystery girlfriend REVEALED!”
“Happy birthday, Wonwoo, but also WE LOVE HER!”
You set the cupcake down on his desk, grinning as you stepped back out of frame. "Alright, I’m out of here—don’t let them roast me too much," you joked, your voice teasing
Wonwoo chuckled, his ears turning pink as he adjusted his headset
"Thanks, love," he said softly, his tone full of affection. Turning back to his stream, he faced the camera with a shy but happy smile
"So… that’s my girlfriend. She wanted to wish me happy birthday."
“We’re simping for both of you now.”
“Wonwoo blushing is everything.”
“That was the CUTEST moment ever.”
He spent the next few minutes reading the flood of comments, thanking everyone for their birthday wishes, and promising not to turn his stream into a full-on romantic comedy.
But the way his smile lingered even after you left the room made it clear just how much that little moment meant to him and to everyone watching.
=
GAMEBOI EP. 26
Wonwoo decided to dedicate a stream to reading fan letters from his email, something he hadn't done in a while. You sat beside him, off-camera as always, but he had asked you to join in. "It’s more fun reading these with you," he had said earlier, convincing you.
As the stream began, he adjusted his mic and addressed his viewers
“So, today’s stream is a little different. I’m going to be reading some of the fan letters you guys sent to my email. And, uh… she’s here to help me.” He motioned toward you off-frame
“SHE’S BACK???”
“COUPLE STREAM PART 2 LET’S GO!”
“Read her the cute ones, Wonwoo!”
You laughed softly “Hi, everyone. Thanks for letting me crash your stream again.”
Wonwoo opened the first email, smiling as he scanned the words
“Okay, this one’s sweet. They said they started watching me during a tough time, and my streams helped them feel less alone.” He paused, his voice warm “That’s… really nice to hear.”
You leaned closer to read over his shoulder. “Aww, that’s so touching. Whoever wrote this, you’re amazing for sharing that,” you said sincerely
As the stream went on, Wonwoo read a mix of funny and heartfelt letters.
One fan shared how they accidentally spilled coffee on their keyboard while watching his gameplay, prompting you to laugh.
“See? That’s why I don’t keep drinks near my setup"
He shot you a playful look “That’s because you spill everything.”
“Hey!” you protested, lightly nudging him, which only made the chat explode
Finally, Wonwoo opened an email that made both of you pause. The fan had written a long message thanking him for being so genuine and mentioning how they admired the love and support they could sense between the two of you.
He glanced at you, a soft smile on his face “That’s… really sweet.”
You nodded, your voice gentle “It’s nice knowing people notice the little things. Whoever wrote this, thank you.”
“THEY’RE SO IN LOVE HELP.”
“This stream is making me believe in love again.”
“We need more streams like this!”
As the stream wrapped up, Wonwoo thanked his viewers, his voice filled with gratitude
“Thanks for all your letters and for always supporting me. And thanks to her for joining me. You make this even better.”
You smiled, nudging him again playfully. “Alright, don’t get too mushy on stream.”
As Wonwoo wrapped up the main part of reading fan letters, you couldn’t help but notice a recurring theme in the chat. Fans were flooding the comments with questions about your relationship. You glanced at him, raising a brow. “You seeing these?”
He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I see them. Do you want to answer a few?”
“YES PLEASE!”
“Tell us the love story!”
“This is what we’ve been waiting for!”
You hesitated for a moment before shrugging
“Okay, just a few. Keep it simple, though.”
Wonwoo smirked, scrolling through the chat “Alright, here’s a classic one: ‘How did you two meet?’”
You chuckled "We met through mutual friends at a small get-together. I didn’t even know who he was at first.just thought he was the quiet guy sitting in the corner with a really nice smile.”
He grinned, glancing at you “And I thought she was the most interesting person in the room. She kept asking me random questions, and I couldn’t stop talking to her.”
Wonwoo picked another question. “Okay, next: ‘Where was your first date?’”
You smiled at the memory
“It was this little bookstore café. He said he wanted somewhere quiet where we could talk, and we ended up staying there for hours. I think the staff thought we were moving in”
Wonwoo chuckled “Yeah, we didn’t even notice the time. I remember she was so excited about the book sections, and she kept showing me things like, ‘Look at this! Isn’t it cool?’”
“I want a bookstore date now…”
“Wonwoo, you’re setting unrealistic standards!”
“Did you buy her a book that day?”
Wonwoo smirked at the last comment “Actually, I did. I still remember the title"
You laughed “And I still have it, thank you very much.”
He scanned the chat again “Last one: ‘What’s your favorite thing to do together?’”
You thought for a moment before answering
“Honestly? Just spending time together doing random things—like this. Whether it’s customizing keyboards, trying out games, or just sitting around talking, it’s always fun.”
Wonwoo nodded in agreement “Yeah, same. I don’t think it matters what we’re doing as long as it’s with her.”
The chat erupted with heart emojis and comments
“Get you a love like this.”
“The way they talk about each other is everything.”
“This is why we stan Wonwoo AND his girlfriend.”
After answering a few more light questions, you decided to let Wonwoo take over again. “Okay, that’s enough about us. Back to your regularly scheduled programming,” you joked, waving off-camera
Wonwoo smiled at the camera. “Thanks for letting her join in, guys. I think she liked it more than she’ll admit.”
You playfully swatted his arm as the chat filled with laughter and love for both of you.
=
GAMEBOI EP.27
The stream starts with a soft, familiar hum of music and the sound of Wonwoo adjusting his mic. The chat immediately lights up with excitement as he finally appears on screen, his signature calm smile gracing his face.
“HE’S BACK!!”
“Wonwoo we missed you so much!!”
“IT’S BEEN TOO LONG!!”
Wonwoo waves at the camera, his voice warm but slightly shy
“Hey, everyone. It’s been a while, huh? I missed you all too.”
He leans back in his chair, taking a deep breath. “First of all, thank you for being so patient. A lot happened over the past couple of months, and I wanted to take some time to just focus on life… and on someone really special”
His smile grows, and his eyes flicker off-camera for a second, as if acknowledging your presence.
“IS SHE THERE?!”
“OMG ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT HER??”
“LIFE UPDATE PLEASE.”
Wonwoo chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Okay, okay, so… some of you might’ve guessed, but yes, she’s been a big part of what’s been happening. We went on a little vacation recently,a much-needed one. And, well…” He pauses, then you suddenly popped up from the side, well... your hand did to show the faintest glint of a ring
“WAIT WHAT?!”
“OMG OMG OMG!!!”
“ARE YOU SAYING WHAT I THINK YOU’RE SAYING?!”
He laughs, his cheeks slightly pink “Yeah, I proposed. And she said yes.”
Even though you're off-camera, the faint sound of your laugh can be heard, and it makes the chat lose their minds even more
“CONGRATS OMG!!!”
“WE KNEW IT!!”
“This is the best comeback ever.”
Wonwoo looks genuinely touched by the overwhelming support.
“Thank you, really. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect before I came back. The past few months have been some of the happiest of my life, and I’m really grateful I got to spend that time with her.”
He glances off-camera again, this time with a small smirk
“She’s here, by the way. But don’t worry, she’s staying off-camera today… unless she wants to say hi?”
You laugh softly before leaning closer to the mic
"Hi, everyone. Thanks for being so sweet to him and to us. And yes, the ring is very pretty.”
“SHE’S HERE!!!”
“WE NEED A RING CAM!”
“Wonwoo you’re one lucky guy.”
Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head
“Alright, enough about me. Let’s get back to what we’re here for: gaming. But seriously, thank you all for your support—it means a lot to both of us.”
As the stream goes on, the mood stays light and happy, with occasional comments from you off-camera and the chat constantly celebrating your engagement. It’s the perfect comeback, full of love, laughter, and warmth.
As Wonwoo continues chatting with his viewers, you can’t resist chiming in from the background. Your voice rings out in a playful, teasing tone
“I finally said yes, guys. Took him long enough.”
Wonwoo lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes
“She’s not gonna let me live this down, huh?”
The chat explodes with laughter
“SHE’S SO FUNNY.”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE SHE SAID YES TO HIM AFTER ALL THAT TIME.”
“Honestly, I would’ve made him work harder for it.”
You lean in a little closer to the mic, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, he had to earn it. I mean, the ring’s nice, but the real question is...did he pass the ‘How to Survive My Cooking’ test?”
Wonwoo laughs, holding up his hands in mock defense “Alright, I’m just gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Her cooking is that bad?”
“The real test of love.”
“Wonwoo deserves an award for surviving that.”
You smirk from off-camera “I’m just saying, if he survived the spicy noodle incident, he deserves a medal.”
Wonwoo shakes his head, smiling fondly at the camera. “Okay, okay, that’s enough teasing for one stream. We’ve got a game to play, but I’m just really happy to be back with you all. And to be with her… even if she makes fun of me all the time.”
You can’t help but laugh softly in the background
“What can I say? I’m the best part of this comeback.”
The chat is in full celebration mode now, with messages of congratulations mixed with requests for more jokes and stories from you
“I love their dynamic so much!”
“They’re a power couple. Period.”
“Please never stop teasing each other.”
Wonwoo glances at you again with a soft smile “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
PAGE 17 . for someone whose career has been built under an endless spotlight, luna wears white with surprising ease.
the singer graces the cover of vogue korea’s annual bridal issue in a story that feels less like a fashion editorial and more like a quiet celebration of the woman she has become. across the spread, luna moves effortlessly through an enviable collection of couture, wearing custom dior, archival chanel haute couture, vivienne westwood bridal, elie saab, giambattista valli haute couture, oscar de la renta, schiaparelli, and miss sohee, each gown capturing a different interpretation of modern romance. one moment she’s wrapped in layers of delicate tulle beneath the afternoon sun, the next she’s standing barefoot inside an old european-style estate, dressed in structured vivienne westwood corsetry with a cathedral-length veil trailing behind her. rather than feeling like she’s trying on dresses, it almost feels as though the dresses were waiting for her.
“it’s funny,” luna laughs during the interview. “i’ve worn wedding dresses for photoshoots, music videos and other projects before, but this one felt… different.”
q. different how?
“i don’t know if it’s because of where i am in life now, but i caught myself smiling between takes without realizing it. everyone kept asking me what i was thinking about.” she pauses. “i guess i was just excited.”
naturally, the conversation turns toward the next chapter of her life.
the timing of the feature has only fueled speculation, especially with her long-awaited wedding to band member seventeen’s jeonghan drawing closer following his military discharge earlier this year. although luna carefully avoids confirming any specific details, she doesn’t exactly deny that the coming months will be busy.
“the next few months are going to be really special,” she admits with a grin. “there are a lot of things we’ve been looking forward to for a long time.”
when asked whether wedding preparations have finally become real after nearly two years of waiting, luna lets out another laugh.
“i think we’ve been preparing in different ways for almost two years already. military service changes your timeline a little. you learn to be patient without really having a choice. so when he came home, it wasn’t like we were starting from zero. it felt like we were finally allowed to continue.”
she quickly catches herself before saying too much.
“i have to stop talking before i spoil something.”
one thing she has no problem discussing, however, is fiancé jeonghan’s involvement.
despite his notoriously relaxed image, luna reveals that her fiancé has been unexpectedly hands-on throughout the planning process.
“he’s very opinionated,” she says, laughing. “people think he just nods and lets me decide everything, but that’s absolutely not true. he notices tiny details i would’ve missed. sometimes he’ll send me pictures of flowers or table settings out of nowhere and ask, ‘what about this?’”
she smiles before adding, “he’s having just as much fun as i am.”
according to luna, the process has never felt stressful.
“i think that’s because we’re doing everything together. whenever one of us gets overwhelmed, the other reminds us why we’re doing it in the first place.”
when asked whether she has a favorite part of planning with her soon-to-be husband, luna thinks quietly before answering.
“i like the small moments the most. the conversations after meetings. driving home together. looking at ideas on the couch until one of us falls asleep. those are probably the memories i’ll treasure the most.”
of course, no bridal interview would be complete without asking about the dress.
or, more accurately…
the dress.
luna immediately shakes her head. “i knew you were going to ask that.”
q. can you tell us anything?
“only that i stopped changing my mind.”
q. so you’ve already chosen?
she smiles without answering. “let’s just say… i’m very happy.”
throughout the interview, luna remains careful not to reveal too much, often catching herself just before giving away another detail. more than once, she laughs and says, “you’ll know soon,” before steering the conversation somewhere safer. it’s enough to satisfy vogue, but just vague enough to leave everyone else guessing.
as the afternoon comes to a close and the final veil is carefully lifted away, luna takes one last look at herself in the mirror.
“i’ve always believed weddings are about more than one day,” she says softly. “they’re about everything that brought you there. every year. every sacrifice. every ordinary moment that quietly became part of your forever.”
she smiles again. “i think we’re finally getting there.”
whether that “there” is weeks away or months away remains anyone’s guess. if luna knows the answer, she’s keeping it to herself.
for now.
PAGE 18 . ever since completing his military service, jeonghan has quietly settled back into public life in the most jeonghan way possible: slowly, casually, and just often enough to keep fans guessing.
from surprise instagram uploads to spontaneous weverse posts and relaxed late-night lives, he’s been noticeably more active online, dropping in whenever he feels like it rather than following any sort of schedule. his most recent weverse live on july 15 was no different. lasting just under an hour, the broadcast felt less like a planned event and more like a conversation between old friends, with jeonghan chatting comfortably about his daily routine, life after enlistment, recent meals, catching up with the members, and adjusting to being back in the spotlight.
naturally, it didn’t take long before the questions everyone wanted answered began flooding the comments.
q. “have you been busy lately?”
jeonghan smiled before nodding. “very busy.” he laughed almost immediately afterward, as if realizing how suspicious that sounded. “i’ve been going out a lot more recently. there are a lot of appointments these days.”
q. “what kind?”
“i don’t think i can say.”
cue the comments moving approximately one hundred miles per hour.
reading them aloud, jeonghan could only laugh. “you guys really connect everything. i mean…” he paused, smiling to himself. “you wouldn’t be wrong to think the next few months are going to be busy.”
although he carefully avoided saying the word “wedding” even once, fans were quick to notice how often his answers naturally drifted toward the future. every time someone asked about travel plans, schedules, or upcoming projects, jeonghan answered in broad strokes, never revealing enough to confirm anything, but never quite shutting the conversation down either.
“we’ve been preparing for a long time,” he admitted at one point. “it feels nice that everything is finally happening.”
when another fan jokingly asked if he was talking about music, jeonghan simply grinned. “maybe.”
the conversation softened when viewers began asking about luna.
jeonghan’s expression immediately changed as he quietly answered, “she’s good.” he could have left it there, but instead added, “she’s been happier lately. i think waiting for two years teaches you to appreciate the little things.”
it was one of the most sincere moments of the evening, and fans immediately connected it to the nearly two years the couple spent waiting through his military service before finally being able to continue planning their future together. almost realizing he’d become a little too sentimental, jeonghan laughed to himself and covered his face for a moment. “i’ve already said too much.”
naturally, the comments only became more relentless. asked whether luna had been just as busy as he was, he nodded without hesitation. “very.” when fans pressed further, asking what exactly she’d been doing, all he would offer was a mischievous smile and a simple, “things.” even after hundreds of comments begged him for a hint, he refused to budge, laughing as he repeated, “i really can’t tell you… you’ll know soon.”
later in the broadcast, another fan pointed out that both he and luna seemed to be disappearing from the public more often lately.
jeonghan chuckled at the observation before clarifying, “we’re not disappearing.” after a small pause, he smiled and corrected himself. “we’re just… occupied.” naturally, the chat immediately demanded to know with what, but he only laughed again and replied, “i knew someone was going to ask that. i’ll let jiyeonie tell you when she’s ready.”
it was a simple sentence, but one that immediately reignited speculation online. coming just days after luna’s vogue korea bridal issue, where she similarly described the coming months as “very special” while carefully avoiding specifics, fans couldn’t help but notice how perfectly the two stories lined up. neither confirmed anything outright, yet somehow both managed to hint at exactly the same thing.
toward the end of the live, one final question caught his attention. someone asked whether he was excited for whatever was coming next in terms with his future with luna.
jeonghan didn’t answer immediately. instead, he smiled the kind of smile fans know all too well, the one that usually means he’s about to dodge the question. after letting the silence linger for just a moment, he quietly admitted, “i’ve waited a long time.” then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “so has she.”
with that, he thanked everyone for spending the evening with him, wished fans a good night, and ended the broadcast before anyone could squeeze another answer out of him.
he said plenty and he confirmed nothing.
naturally, the internet is calling it his most suspicious live yet.
