𝓹airing ꒱ ˒˓ Hyunjin x gn!reader ˒˓ established relationship. 𝓰enre/extreme fluff, domestic softness, tooth-rotting sweetness, No real plot. (These are fun)
[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — another not so common fluff fic for the timeline! Having a lazy weekend doing nothing sounds amazing right about now! This fic is sponsored by Anon! Let me know what u think! <3
The dorm was quiet in a way that didn’t happen often.
The kind of quiet where you could hear the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of the A/C turning on. Most weekends were filled with footsteps, laughter, the sound of video games or music playing from different rooms. But not this one.
The others had all left in different directions, visiting family, or camping adventures. Hyunjin had been invited to join a few times. He’d declined every single one.
“Let’s just… not do anything,” he’d told you on Friday night, his voice muffled as he pulled his hoodie over his head. “No schedules. No going anywhere. Just… here.”
You’d smiled at him over the kitchen counter. “Not doing anything with you sounds great.”
Saturday morning came in soft and slow, sunlight spilling across the floor in pale streaks.
You were the first one up, padding into the kitchen in your socks to make coffee. The air smelled like freshly ground beans by the time Hyunjin appeared, hair sticking up wildly in every direction. His eyes were barely open as you slid a mug toward him.
He sat at the table in his baggiest black tee and plaid pants, sipping quietly while you leaned against the counter. No rush. No need for conversation just yet.
By midday, you were sprawled on the couch, scrolling idly on your phone when Hyunjin reappeared from his room holding two sheet masks.
“Pick one,” he said, holding them up like a card trick.
You pointed to the one with strawberries on the packaging. “This one.”
“That’s mine,” he deadpanned, before breaking into a grin.
You both ended up wearing the masks, your laughter echoing in the bathroom when his clay mask cracked across his cheeks as he tried not to smile.
Afterward, he insisted on painting your nails, not only because he was particularly good at it, but because he liked the excuse to also hold your hands. You retaliated by painting his nails a pastel blue, the two of you hunched over the coffee table with your tongues poking out in concentration.
“You’re terrible at this,” he muttered as you wobbled with the brush.
“And yet,” you said, blowing on your handiwork, “I am an artiste.”
By evening, you were tucked into a blanket fort in the living room. The fairy lights draped across the top glowed softly, casting the space in gold. Hyunjin had insisted on making it “architecturally sound,” which really just meant it was held together with couch cushions and a prayer.
You lay side by side, scrolling through food delivery apps.
“Tteokbokki,” he suggested.
“Fried chicken,” you countered.
“Both?” he said after a moment, like it was the most reasonable compromise in the world.
The food arrived an hour later, and you ate in the fort, passing bites back and forth until you were both too full to move. Somewhere between finishing the chicken and starting a second episode of the drama you’d been watching, you fell asleep in his arms, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you deeper into rest.
Sunday morning came with the steady patter of rain.
Hyunjin was already on the couch when you woke up, wrapped in a blanket like a human burrito. He opened his arms for you to crawl in, and eventually you ended up with his head in your lap, your fingers idly combing through the short black strands of his hair.
The world felt muted, just the rain against the windows, the occasional sigh as he drifted in and out of sleep. Every time his breathing evened out, you thought he’d gone under completely, only for him to murmur something soft you couldn’t quite catch.
Later, you migrated to his bedroom.
He set up his easel by the window, pulling out paints while you claimed your usual spot on his bed with your book. Time passed in that comfortable way it does when you don’t need to fill it. The sound of his brush against canvas became the background to your page-turning.
Every so often, you’d glance up to find him looking at you, not saying anything, just smiling a little before turning back to his work.
That night, the rain hadn’t stopped. You slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake him, padding into the kitchen for a bottle of water. The apartment was dim, lit only by the muted glow of the streetlights outside.
You’d just grabbed the bottle when you felt his arms sliding around your waist from behind, pulling you back into his chest.
Neither of you said anything.
His cheek rested against the top of your head, his breathing slow and even, the faint scent of his shampoo mixing with the crisp smell of rain drifting through a cracked window. You let your free hand settle over his, feeling the warmth radiating from him.
For a while, you just stood like that, gently swaying to a rhythm that didn’t need music.
Then, with a quiet motion, Hyunjin turned you around in his arms. His hands found the small of your back, drawing you close until your forehead rested against his collarbone. You dipped your head, closing your eyes listening to the soft beating of his heart, as you moved together in slow, unhurried steps.
not really dancing, just letting your bodies stay connected, swaying in the stillness of the kitchen. The world could have stopped right there and you wouldn’t have minded.
With you both back under the covers, his arm snug around your waist as he held you from behind, Hyunjin murmured into the dark, “This was the best weekend.”
You smiled against the pillow. “We didn’t even do anything.”
“Exactly,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Nothing is my favorite when it’s with you.”
And you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other.
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