#wonbin riize

the game has barely started and you’re already sitting forward on the couch, eyes locked on the screen with one hand gripping a throw pillow so tightly it looks like you’re trying to strangle it. wonbin is sitting on the floor with sunshine in his lap. she’s perfectly content, chewing on one of her toys while bunny colors beside them.

for a while, everything is peaceful.

then the knicks miss an easy shot.

you immediately throw your hands into the air and shoot up. “what are you doing?” you demand at the television. bunny’s head snaps up from her coloring book. she looks from you to the television and then back to you again. “who are you talking to?” she asks with complete sincerity.

“the knicks,” you answer without taking your eyes off the game.

bunny frowns. “can they hear you?”

“they better.”

wonbin lets out a quiet laugh from the floor, adjusting sunshine when she starts kicking excitedly at the sudden yelling. “they definitely can’t hear her,” he tells bunny in an amused voice. “then why is mama yelling?” bunny asks, looking confused. “because she’s a fan,” wonbin explains patiently. bunny considers that answer for a moment before looking back toward the television.

unfortunately, the game gets worse and the worse the game gets, the louder you become.

you start pacing.

then sitting.

then standing again.

at one point you end up directly in front of the television with your hands on your hips. “no, no, no,” you mutter under your breath as a player dribbles. a second later you groan loudly and drop your head back. “why would you do that?” sunshine startles slightly at the sudden volume and turns immediately toward you. wonbin catches her little body before she can launch herself sideways trying to see what’s happening.

“don’t look at her,” he says to sunshine as he bounces her lightly. “mama is not being sane right now.”

“i’m being perfectly sane,” you argue immediately without looking away from the game.

“you keep yelling at the TV."

“because it was a bad pass.”

wonbin exchanges a look with bunny. bunny shrugs helplessly. by halftime wonbin has changed and fed sunshine, given bunny a snack and got her ready for bed, and folded a basket of laundry. you have not moved from your spot on the couch. at some point wonbin walks over and places a plate of food next to you. you don’t even notice.

a full minute passes before he points at it. “eat,” he says firmly, nudging your knee with his. “i can’t,” you answer immediately, still staring at the television.

“why?”

“they’re down twenty nine wonbin.”

wonbin closes his eyes briefly. bunny climbs onto the couch beside you and studies your face carefully. “is that bad?” she asks quietly. “very bad,” you answer dramatically. “oh.” now bunny looks concerned too.

the fourth quarter the game gets close which somehow makes everything worse. every possession suddenly feels life threatening to you. wonbin swears you stop blinking. he has sunshine asleep against his chest by now, her tiny face pressed into his shirt while he rubs slow circles against her back. even he starts paying attention because your reactions are becoming impossible to ignore. the knicks start coming back little by little and you freeze. “wonbin,” you whisper. he immediately looks up, “what?”

“don’t talk.”

“i didn’t-"

“don’t.”

bunny looks between both of you. “what’s happening?" “something,” you whisper. the game gets closer.

and closer.

and closer. now theyre only 3 behind.

you’re standing again with your hands clasped together. every possession of the ball feels like it lasts ten years. wonbin has stopped pretending not to care. even bunny is watching now because your reactions are making this seem like the most important event in human history.

the final minute is agony. you pace then you sit and then you stand again. by the final seconds you have to sit because your legs feel like they're going to give out. wonbin is laughing at you now, “i think you’ve walked a mile.”

“stop talking to me.”

“okay," wonbin stood up to go put sunshine in her crib.

“actually no, stay.”

“okay," wonbin slowly sat back down.

“but stop talking.”

“right.”

then the buzzer finally sounds. for a second you just stare. the celebration starts on the screen. there's players jumping, confetti falling and the crowd losing their minds.

you stare.

and stare.

and stare.

and then it hits you.

“THEY WON!” the scream that comes out of you is so loud that sunshine startles awake immediately. “THEY WON! OH MY GOD THEY WON!” you jump straight off the couch. “WONBIN THEY WON!”

“i can see that,” he says, already laughing. “THEY WON!” you look seconds away from passing out. bunny is staring at you in complete shock “mama?”

“THEY WON THE FINALS!” you're hand is over your mouth in shock as you stare at the celebration on the screen. bunny immediately starts jumping too because she sees your excitement. “THEY WON!” she repeats enthusiastically despite having absolutely no idea what they won or who even won. “THEY DID!” you shout with a smile, grabbing her and spinning her around for a second before pulling her into a huge hug. sunshine is fully awake now, blinking in confusion while wonbin bounces her and laughs so hard he’s struggling to keep a straight face. “i’ve never seen you this excited over anything,” he admits.

you point dramatically at the television where the team is celebrating, “LOOK AT THEM!”

“i am looking.”

“NO LOOK!”

“i’m looking!”

Doubting Online Love. Park Wonbin

Part 1: Reader's POV

onlinebestfriend!wonbin x onlinebestfriend!reader, reader is neutral gender. Story based on a real situation.

the screen glows in the dim light of your room, casting a soft blue hue over your face. It's 2am, and your fingers are hovering over the keyboard, but your attention is entirely on the past messages you had with Wonbin. the man of your dreams. ​you've known each other for a year now and that friendship somehow feels more tangible than the people you usually know. A man being sweet, funny, comforting, and handsome as well, is everything that weakens you, that makes you head over heels.

​wonbin is everything you typically avoid in a person. He is loud in his enthusiasm, he loves to yap about his day, his frustrations, the details of his life that he insists on sharing with you. he is social, surrounded by a constellation of friends, yet he always orbits back to you. you've got your own world, your own circle, but in the hierarchy of your heart, he occupies the throne. He is your priority, the person you check for first thing in the morning and the last thought before you drift off to sleep.

​your feelings are a tide. they pull back, leaving you content in the safety of just being "best friends," only to surge forward a few months later, making your heart stutter every time his name pops up on your lock screen. It's a cycle you've come to accept. You tell yourself it’s just the comfort of the connection, that natural, invisible thread that binds you two across the distance.

​but deep down, in the spaces between the jokes, the disagreements, the late night calls, you know the truth: he is your anchor. he is the last man you ever imagine needing, the only one who has managed to dismantle your defenses without even trying.

​wonbin is no longer just a friend, he is the atmosphere you breathe. He follows you in your mind when you're walking in the school hallways, echoing in your mind during lectures, his presence a constant hum beneath every task you perform. While your classmates are discussing about exams or weekend plans, you are elsewhere, living in the space between his latest message and the next one.

​It’s become a ritual of devotion. When he drops a comment in your group chat and the others scroll past it, leaving him hanging, you are the first to strike. You swoop in to acknowledge him, your thumb hovering over the screen like a loyal sentry. You are his only witness, the only one keeping a tally of his thoughts. Sometimes, you wonder if the others notice the speed of your replies, the way your attention is solely tethered to his digital footprint. Does the way you mirror his online activity, popping up the second his status turns green, give you away? You don’t care. You're too obsessed to worry about optics.

​your physical world has grown quiet, almost desolate. your real life friends have become background noise, their faces hazy and unimportant compared to the crisp, glowing clarity of wonbin's texts. why bother building bridges with people who are physically present but emotionally distant, when you have the love of your life right there in your hands, 24/7?

​it’s an intoxicating kind of isolation. you've traded the tangible for the virtual, convincing yourself that this specific, hyper focused connection is superior to anything else. after all, who wouldn't be addicted? who could walk away from the feeling of being the only person who truly sees him?

You get outside in your balcony to get some air after finishing watching the new episode of your series of the moment, as you get a notification of Wonbin's Instagram close friends story update. He’s sent a mirror selfie from the gym. captioning about how he "finally" lost weight, that has been his goal for months and that makes you smile. "Fuck, he's so fine..." You mutter under your breath. That would be very awkward if you told him word by word what you think of this photo. You and Wonbin barely say compliments to each other. But he already liked two of your selfies, which means already a lot: He finds you pretty. So you liked his story as well, to return the favor.

You decided to open your DMs with him now that you noticed that he's online. The screen light is harsh against your face, but you barely notice. Your thumb moves up and down, flicking upward, watching the blur of months of conversation fly by.

​Then, you stop.

​There it is. Three words, simple and unadorned, sitting in a bubble sent three months ago: "I love you."

​Back then, those words didn't land. They were muffled, drowned out by the noise of a relationship that was already rotting from the inside. You were so occupied with your cheating ex, wasting your tears on someone who didn't deserve your attention, that you treated Wonbin’s confession like a casual, platonic sentiment. You had brushed it off, and even chuckled at his dramatic nature.

​But tonight, the air in the balcony feels heavy with the weight of it. ​Read now, in the silence of your solitude, those words hit with the force of a physical blow. You wonder if he still thinks like this way until this day.

Does he? You've never get to know what he truly feels about you. ​​the frustration is a bitter, cold knot in your stomach. You look at your DMs with him, and the imbalance is glaring. it's a ledger of your own desperation: screen after screen where you are the one reaching out, you are the one starting the conversation, you are the one trying to bridge the gap. you feel like a ghost haunting his inbox, pulling strings to make a puppet dance, praying for a sign that he's actually there.

"​what am I to him?"

​the question circles your mind. are you just a convenient echo chamber for his boredom?

​you scroll back to the "i love you" text from three months ago. Did it even mean anything, or was it just a casualty of his fleeting moods? the paranoia begins to bloom, dark and invasive. You start to dissect every interaction, wondering if you were ever truly the priority you convinced yourself you were.

​and then, the worst thought of all takes root, sharper and more painful than any other: What if there is someone else?

​what if while you are sitting in the dark, tethered to the glow of your phone and losing touch with everyone around you, he is out there giving his attention, his real, tangible presence, to someone who doesn't have to wait a day for a reply?

​the fantasy of your "natural connection" begins to fray at the edges. you realize you’ve been building a temple for a god who might not even be listening. you are the only one worshipping, the only one keeping the candles lit, and suddenly, the fear that he might never answer your questions, that he might never let you past the walls of his digital charm, feels like an impending, inevitable truth.

You updated your Instagram note, targeted to him: "Stop giving me mixed signals." You go back inside your room and drop your phone onto the bed as if it's suddenly burned you. The silence of your room feels heavier now, amplified by your own audacity. ​part of you, the part that is still so dangerously obsessed, is holding its breath, waiting for a DM, a reply, anything to prove that he noticed, that he cares enough to ask what’s wrong. But the voice of your experience is louder, colder. You know the pattern: he only cares when it’s convenient. He is a master of selective affection, appearing in your life like a warm sun only to eclipse himself whenever he grows bored or distracted by the real world. ​You lay back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the familiar, acidic sting of frustration. You've signaled your pain, and yet, the needle on the compass remains stuck, pointing toward his indifference.

It's all because of that lack of communication. You need to catch yourself up. He's the man of your dreams and you can't miss that. So you broke the silence again and sent him a text.

"Hello, how are you? Have you eaten? I know we haven't talked in a day but I still think about you, and I miss you a lot. do you even miss me?"

You turned off the phone and immediately went to sleep. Not wanting to regret, because you've got one life. And If you wanted to reach for what you craved for so long, You had to do it.

crack bf texts / wonbin ;

PAIRING(S) wonbin x reader

GENRE silly bf texts

NOTE(S) wonbin is so sexy ngh

WARNING(S) swearing, very suggestive, pet names (love, babe, baby)

NSFW audio! requested!

wonbin loves letting you ride him.

you spend the morning bouncing between both girls nonstop. sunshine refuses to nap unless she’s being held. bunny needs help finding a specific toy she somehow lost inside the house. wonbin is running on maybe four hours of sleep, hair sticking up everywhere while he makes bunny breakfast with sunshine balanced against his shoulder.

“where’s her other sock?” bunny asks.

“i don’t know,” he answers honestly.

“mama usually knows.” you’re standing at the sink reheating cold coffee for the second time. “mama has given up right now. we'll find it later.”

wonbin laughs tiredly.

nobody checks the date. not you. not wonbin.

the day passes fast and in pieces.

you have laundry to do. wonbin helps set up bunny's cartoons since the remote vanished. sunshine is teething and crying. bunny asking seventeen questions in a row while you try to put sunshine to bed. wonbin trying to vacuum while the baby screams at the sound of it. by nighttime all of you are exhausted. bunny is already half-asleep curled against your side on the couch while sunshine finally dozes off on wonbin’s chest. the tv is on but nobody’s really watching it.

you’re just sitting there in silence for the first time all day. wonbin suddenly freezes, “… oh my god.”

you blink slowly. “what?” his eyes widen in horror. “what day is it?” you stare at him then reach for your phone.

“… oh my god,” you repeat. wonbin sits up too fast, nearly waking sunshine. “happy mother’s day.” you start laughing immediately. “we forgot mother’s day?” “completely,” he says, sounding devastated.

bunny wakes up slightly at the noise, squinting up at both of you. “what happened?” “we forgot mother’s day,” wonbin says. she gasps dramatically. “MAMA!” “it’s okay,” you laugh. “no it’s not!” bunny says, suddenly very awake now. she scrambles off the couch. “wait here!” she disappears down the hallway. “we have a baby,” you remind him. “still.”

sunshine squirms against his chest with a sleepy little noise. he automatically rubs her back, calming her again without even thinking about it. you watch him for a second, smiling softer now “honestly?” you murmur. “this feels pretty accurate for where we’re at right now.”

he looks over at you, guilty written all over his face. “you deserved better.” you shake your head immediately. “wonbin, i spent all day with my favorite people. i’m okay i promise.”