#woozi reader insert

You didn’t question it, though. You spent most of your working hours actually at your job nowadays, so the apartment was left entirely to him then anyway. But it did mean that you made sure you knocked and stepped away if you needed an extra pair of hands for any reason—whether that be to help you fold laundry or with dinner or just moving the couch back an inch or so whenever you expected company like mister long-legged Kim Mingyu. He’d always sheepishly apologized for taking up so much room when he came over for game nights, but you’d waved him off. Mingyu could just help you move it back, but you liked having it pushed back before your friends arrived.

Until now. Jihoon had held out a blindfold to you when you came home. “Happy birthday,” he said quietly. “I want to show you something.” Then a quiet pause. “Two somethings, actually.”  

Jihoon simply didn’t do surprises often. That was something you always appreciated about him: the most he ever really did was surprise you with a little trinket or treat he picked up while he was out, or sometimes with dinner on the nights you were supposed to cook but needed the break instead. Jihoon’s surprises were always something subtle, something that told you he was listening and paying attention to you. So you donned the blindfold, ready to see what he had waiting for you.

You knew the layout of your apartment well enough to know he’d brought you straight to his office. He rolled his chair back, gently guiding you down to sit in it before he reached past you to mess around on his computer.

“I wrote you a song.” He said, plain as day. “Since I’ve been able to make more music lately… I finally finished it last night.”

Jihoon had told you that he was writing you a song over a year ago. It’d been a casual little remark, just something to tell you about while eating lunch together one day. Every so often, you’d ask about it, just to see if he made progress on it. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t: work got in the way, as did everything else in life in different ways. But he always promised that he would show it to you as soon as he could. Holding out almost an entire day, though, surprised you. He’d always been excited to show you his work, to show off the songs he composed and either sung himself or brought one of his very talented friends in to record for it.

He clamped the headphones over your ears, and tapped a key, and you were met with this soft, sweet melody before the warm voice of Jihoon. All you did for the next few minutes was listen to the tender lyrics as he sang about his love for you, how you were his happiness. His baby. All of the things that you were sure Jihoon would turn red if he had to say out loud, especially if anyone else was around to hear it, but the things he would always want you to hear. 

You slowly removed the headphones, still blindfolded as you turned to hopefully find Jihoon. Your hand bumped into his side, and he took it within his own. “That was beautiful, Jihoon” you said. “I… might need a minute to pull my thoughts together.” A second later, you tacked on, “... And the other thing?”

“Hold on.” He let go of your hand, rolling your chair a little forward and turning you away from where his computer was sitting. “You can take it off.” 

So you did. And immediately, Jihoon’s project became apparent. He’d moved things around, setting up a workspace for you on the opposite side of the room. A desk, your work laptop, and anything and everything you would need to work comfortably. Where did he find the time to buy you a desk and put it together…? Or the nice desk chair he’d bought you. You set aside his headphones, walking over to pull the chair out and sit in it. It provided you far better back support than the chair you had at work, and that was something the company prided itself on paying for. 

“How did you—”

“I got a promotion,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But… They gave me an actual office, so I don’t have to keep some of my work documents here anymore—and, um, a nicer desk, so I could put some of the things you bought me on it…” He scratched his cheek nervously. “I was going to tell you,  but… I was talking to Seungcheol, and I mentioned I wanted to give you space here, and he said he’d help me keep it a secret so I could surprise you.” 

The urge to cry welled up within your chest, and you stood, making your way over to pull him into your arms. You hugged him tight, shutting your eyes for a moment. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“I—I, um…” He was blushing, and you could feel that heat radiating off of his face. “I like our dinner table, but… I think you deserve something better for you if you have to sit. Cheol helped me compare chairs, and…”

You just kissed him instead. “I love it. I love you.” You blinked back tears. When was the last time someone went through so much effort for you…?

“Happy birthday,” he said quietly. “I’m glad you like it.” 

All you could do was just kiss him one more time. If you were his happiness… then he was yours, too.

He opened his mouth, finding himself at a loss for words because, honestly, he couldn't even explain what was going on in his head if he wanted to. He shook his head, moving his chair a little further from you and turning back to the track he'd been working on.

"Nothing, just tired."

"You should rest, we've been here all day. Take a nap, I'll order some food," You said, standing up to nudge him towards the couch. He shook his head, shrugging your hand off his shoulder. You pouted, grabbing his chair instead and spinning him around. He felt a wave of panic wash through him, fully aware of how achingly hard he was now that he was exposed to you.

"Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry so much. Let's just finish this." He said, face beginning to warm. You narrowed your eyes at him, scanning his face. "Y/N,"

"What?" 

"Stop looking at me like that." He said, voice tight and dropping lower than you'd heard it. You suppressed a shiver.

"Like what?" You asked him, but of course you knew. You'd been trying to push him to stop staring at you and actually make a move for months now, but he was so goddamn respectful, so absolutely devoted to being kind that he was willing to overlook every blatantly flirty remark and too-intimate touch.

"Like you want me to do something we'll both regret." He said, clenching his jaw. You leaned closer, one of yours hands moving slowly up the length of his arm, over the muscle of his shoulder, down the slope of his chest. So, so slowly that every second felt like it was a hundred heartbeats long when that's all that Jihoon could hear rushing in his ears.

"Who says I'll regret anything?" You asked, voice hardly above a whisper, and your eyes baring down on his. He fought the urge to kiss you, to pull you closer to him and say fuck all the rules and regulations. He choked back the burning desire that you were so willingly stoking.

"Y/N,"

"Would you regret it?" You asked him, reaching up to tip his chin up, dipping your head closer until you could feel his shaky breath against your cheek. "Tell me you don't want to touch me. Say it and we act like this never happened."

You gave him a beat, and then another. The tension drew tight as neither of you said anything. He watched you as you watched the slow parting of his lips, then watched them press back together in silence. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his and melting into the taste of him.

Instantly his hands found your waist, pulling you down onto his lap. You didn't break the kiss as you adjusted to straddle him in the chair, pressing yourself firmly against him as he pulled you closer. His tongue prodded against the seam of your lips, eagerly being welcomed inside. He tasted of soda and chewing gum, and you were addicted to it. Your hands found his hair, long enough now for him to tie up - not that he usually did unless he was deep in a track.

"Jihoon," You whined when he pulled away, bottom lip jutting out in a dramatic pout at the loss of his kiss. He hummed in response, mouth finding your jaw and leaving slow, warm kisses down the curve of it. You inhaled softly, your complaints dying on your tongue. He nipped at your pulsepoint, dragging his tongue over it before moving on to mark your skin just above the neckline of your shirt.

You pulled away, tugging the fabric over your head and tossing it onto your chair. He sighed at the sight of you bared for him, hands moving up your sides, higher to cup your breasts over the thin fabric of your bra. He swore he could look at you like this all day, memorize every scar and stretch mark and dip of your body. You, on the other hand, weren't half as patient. You reached behind you, unhooking your bra and letting it slide down your arms. Jihoon took it upon himself to discard the useless piece of fabric, dipping his head to kiss along the curve of your tits.

"Take these off, too." He said, pushing at the waistband of your sweatpants. You stood up, pushing them down your legs and kicking them aside before settling yourself on his lap again. He shifted your weight, settling you over one of his thighs, his shorts exposing enough skin that the only thing keeping him from the warmth of your core was the flimsy pair of panties you had on.

Jihoon cursed, feeling the way your hole leaked over his leg, soaking the fabric of your underwear.

"Need me so bad, don't you?" He asked, returning diligently to his self-appointed task of kissing over every inch of your chest. You nodded, words lost when his warm mouth wrapped around one of your nipples. Your hips rocked into the firm muscle of his thigh, desperate for any ounce of stimulation other than helplessly clenching your walls around nothing.

He gripped your hips tight, and you assumed it was to stop you from seeking your pleasure, but instead he pressed you harder into his thigh, tensing the muscles underneath you to perfectly drag against your clit. He teased his teeth over your nipple at the same time, and you closed your eyes. One of your hands returned to his hair, the other gripping at his shoulder to keep your balance.

With a steady, demanding hand, he guided you to grind against his thigh. You chewed on your lip, trying to keep your wits about you as you fucked yourself on his thigh. You didn't want to seem as desperate as your body was, but your dripping hole was giving you away, leaving a puddle of your arousal on his skin that he was a little bit addicted to.

"Let me hear you," He demanded, pulling his head away from your tits, and looking up into your eyes. Your stomach twisted and fluttered at the depth of his voice. You shook your head a little, nervous to be too loud despite the studio being soundproofed for production purposes. But Jihoon was having none of it.

He tugged your lip from between your teeth, hooking his thumb into your mouth and holding your face steady, eyes on him and body feeling too warm under his attention. His other hand didn't let up, still pushing and pulling you against him and rutting you down against him like a bitch in heat.

You whined, the sound coming out loud and clear and earning a satisfied look from Jihoon underneath you.

"Good girl," He praised, and your walls crumbled around you, every inhibition slipping out of your mind as you gave him more of what he wanted. He watched the way you followed his lead, half sucking on his thumb and half moaning around it as he got you off without hardly touching you at all.

"Please, need more." You mumbled, words slurred around his digit. He pulled it out, a trail of saliva smearing against your chin.

"No you don't, baby. You can cum like this. Try harder." He pushed you, using his spit-slicked thumb to play with your hardened nipples, circling over each one slowly, then the other, then back again while you chased your high. The burn in your thighs was getting to you, and your clit was throbbing with the desperate need to cum, to be full of him, but instead all you were getting was the grating stimulation of his leg against your clothed cunt.

You dropped your head against his shoulder, clinging to him and chasing the feeling of relief. He hummed, kissing the side of your head and bouncing his leg up against you, watching the way you shuddered in his arms at the stimulation.

"C'mon, know you can do it. Cum on my thigh like this and I'll fuck you. That's what you want, right? Just gotta cum first." He coaxed in your ear, and the sound of his voice sent you spiraling. You weren't even sure if it was his words or the way you were humping him, but your orgasm hit you like a train, knocking your breath out of you with a broken moan.

He slowed your hips down, letting you ride out your high and feeling the way you were literally dripping against him, warm and wet where your core was still fluttering against his thigh. He turned your head to press a kiss to your lips, this one much more gentle than the last.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He cooed, a proud glint in his eyes. You made it damn hard to be a respectable man when you looked so easy to ruin in his arms. But luckily for him, you didn't care about him being respectable, you just wanted him to take you the way you both wanted. The way you both would definitely not be regretting.

The only things holding Jihoon together right now was both Soonyoung and Vernon’s presence right now. But he hadn’t stopped staring at where your birthday cake had been dropped onto the floor, smashed into a mess of blue and white icing. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to clean up the mess in Soonyoung’s apartment. Soonyoung was on his knees now, tossing it into a bag to be disposed of properly once it was all done. It had all happened too quickly. One minute he’d been moving it to a different space on the counter, and the next he’d been lying on the floor, body aching from his slip, and the cake was destroyed. The little party he’d planned was hours away, and he’d ordered this cake specifically for you…

“I think grocery stores do plain buttercream cakes,” Vernon said, fingers covered in blue as he dropped another chunk of cake into the trash. “It’s not as special, but we can get them to write her name on it.”

“She likes those cakes,” Soonyoung nodded. “That’s what we did for my birthday last year.” 

Right, but those weren’t made for you. Jihoon had gone out of his way to slowly figure out what you’d love the most. He sighed, and moved to get paper towels to wet and clean up the remaining icing. “I don’t know. I wanted to get her something special…”

Vernon looked up. “It’s just her birthday. I know she’s special, but—”

Immediately, Soonyoung started to smack his arm. He shook his head, and Vernon slowly connected the dots.

“Oh.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Dude—Today?”

Jihoon quietly nodded, then stopped. “I mean—Not technically?” He sighed, leaning back. “I was going to ask her when we went home. It’ll be after midnight, so it’d be tomorrow, and—”

Vernon nodded. “Alright. Look,” he pushed himself off the floor. “I know some people. Maybe one of ‘em could help do us a favor.” 

Something inside of him seemed to crumple like tissue paper at how easily Vernon seemed to take charge right now.  That should be what he was doing. You were his girlfriend, his love, and yet he couldn’t seem to drag himself out of the spiralling thoughts that he’d fucked this all up. He knew what you would say now, though: that it was fine. That you didn’t need a birthday cake to be happy. But today needed to be perfect for you. You treated him with so much kindness, always so gentle but clear with how much you loved him. Jihoon wasn’t always the loudest with how much he loved the people in his life, but he hoped that his love was clear, too. This was supposed to be part of his big gesture, the thing that screamed to the skyline that he loved you wholeheartedly. The other part was the box still tucked away in his pants pocket, even now. He carried it with him most days, just in case he ever felt the inclination to forego his plans…

Maybe he should have. Then he wouldn’t be so stressed right now making sure everything went right. 

Vernon had already stepped away, calling someone to see what they could do on such short notice. Soonyoung, on the other hand, had helped him wipe up the remaining icing. The floor needed to be mopped soon anyway, and then the scene of the crime would be entirely taken care of. By the time it was all taken care of, Vernon already had a name and a place to go—which led to Soonyoung pushing Jihoon toward him, saying he could handle setting up the rest. 

He’d described as basic a cake as he could: vanilla, decorated with buttercream in blue and white, with maybe some flowers on it if the baker could swing it. All it needed to say was ‘Happy birthday’ and your name. The easiest thing that they could make, he would accept as long as it tasted good. With the order placed and a time given to pick it up, Jihoon stepped back out onto the street with Vernon at his heels.

“So…” He’d soon fallen into step beside him. “It’s not just about the cake, is it?”

Jihoon slowly nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. Anything to look more casual instead of the nervous storm he was inside. “If I don’t make it right… Then I’m going to feel like I failed her.”

“You could literally show up with just a thing of Oreos and she’ll love you.” Vernon looked over. “It’s fine to be nervous, but I don’t think there’s anything you could do that could upset her.” 

“I know, but…”

Vernon bumped into him, just to get his attention back on him. “You two love each other a lot, dude. It’s gonna be alright.” 

Jihoon could only hope that it would be.

Hours passed quicker than Jihoon expected them to. He and Vernon had returned to Soonyoung’s apartment and helped him set up for your little birthday party. Seungcheol had thankfully agreed to drive the cake over, careful as he could be, while Jihoon had to return home to you. He’d fed you this plan to go out for a movie and then dinner, hand hovering over his pocket. The box was right there. Maybe it’d be better for him to leave it somewhere safe here, but he felt better carrying it on him. 

“Jihoony?” You had turned from where you were putting on an earring—one of the ones he bought you last year for Christmas. There’s a playful lift to your voice, smiling at him. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, making his way over to you. “Everything’s perfect,” he said. Yet the pit in his stomach didn’t seem to shrink at all. He had hoped that saying it aloud would do something, and yet…

You fastened the earring into place, and then reached forward to cup his face. “Jihoony.” You let out a long sigh. “I know.”

“You… know?”

“One,” you said, “Cheol accidentally let the party secret slip when I asked him if he wanted to join us for dinner. And two…” You shut your eyes for a moment. “Remember the other week when you came home exhausted from work? You changed, ate dinner, and then went straight to bed…”

Oh no. Oh no. He swore he had tucked the ring box into his bag after he drove home. “So, you…”

With a soft kiss against his lips, you leaned back. Your chapstick tasted like birthday cake, all too fitting for today. “Whenever you ask, I’m going to say yes.” 

Jihoon met your eyes. “Even if it’s tonight?”

“Maybe wait until we’re alone,” you said, as if he hadn’t always planned for that. “But yes,” you giggled. “Tonight included.”

Jihoon reached for your hands, taking them into his own. The words already started to pour out of him before he could even think twice, “I dropped your birthday cake earlier. We got a replacement, but it isn’t the one I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” 

Instead of saying anything else, all you did was step back as you laughed. He’d fallen in love with your laugh long ago, but hearing it now he swore he was falling in love with the sound all over again. When you faced him again, you were smiling harder than before, even more radiant this time.

“As long as I get to enjoy it with you,” you said, “I’m going to be happy.” 

All at once, his anxieties disappeared. He leaned in, lips brushing against yours for just a few seconds. He knew he would kiss you properly once the two of you were home again. But for now, he’d leave you with something fleeting, just to leave both of you wanting more. “Happy birthday,” he said for the second time today, hands resting at your waist. “I love you so much.”

It wasn’t that Jihoon worried about you. He did, but that wasn’t the point. He’d heard the rumble of thunder and seen how hard the rain was coming down when he looked out at the tiny balcony your apartment had. He’d already dragged in the laundry that had been hung up there, and now he kept looking outside to see if the rain had grown any lighter. He let out a sigh, leaning against the wall, and looked back at his phone. No text from you, no calls… Surely, you’d be home soon, right? You should have left work half an hour ago, and he was sure the buses would be running a little later than usual… Maybe he should have asked Seungcheol to pick you up. He’d already offered, and you didn’t mind the ride if he was already in the area, but Jihoon knew what you would say. He doesn’t have to go out of his way for me, Jihoonie, I’ll be okay. As if that mattered to Seungcheol: Jihoon knew as well as anyone else did that Seungcheol cared about people, and that extended to their partners. Going out of his way was a love language for Seungcheol, a sign to Jihoon that he cared about him and therefore he cared about you. 

His ears perked at the sound of the door opening, and he turned back to see it opening up. With two heavy footsteps, you’d finally appeared before him. Relief hit him as heavy as your bag hit the floor, and Jihoon already set out to start taking care of you. He’d started the hot water in the shower, grabbing a towel for you in the process. He threw it over your head as you bent down to untie your shoes, already trying to dry you off some.

“Why didn’t you let Cheol bring you home?”

Your voice had been muffled by the towel, but he knew it was just confirmation. “Don’t wanna bother him,” he thought you said. It felt like something you would say. He could practically hear your pouty cadence. 

He let out a sigh. What was he going to do with you…? He walked away long enough to draw the blinds, returning to you to usher you to the bathroom. He watched as you stripped off soaking wet clothing, and he gathered it up to throw it into the washing machine—he’d start it later once he gathered a couple other things that needed to be washed. 

“Did you eat?” He asked after he came back from getting you a change of clothing, already pulling out his phone. The two of you just went grocery shopping yesterday. He’d find something to make to warm you up and hopefully keep you from getting sick.

You groaned. Jihoon fought back a smile. Work must have been a lot today.

“You want something in particular?”

Another groan. “Just… Food. Hungry.”

He paused, looking up. “Should I stay here to make sure you don’t pass out…?”

“I’m okay,” you said after a longer sigh. “Just tired, Jihoonie.”

“I’ll leave the door cracked,” he said. “Call me if you feel lightheaded.”

Thankfully, you never did. Jihoon had found a recipe (with a little help from Jun—he texted asking for advice, and Jun simply linked him to a soup he apparently made whenever someone was sick), and he worked with what the two of you had on hand. He listened out for the sound of the sound of the shower handles squeaking as you shut off the water. A few minutes later, he listened to the sounds of your footsteps as you left the bathroom, and then heard the impact of you flopping onto the couch.

“Better?” He called over his shoulder.

“Mmhm.” A moment passed. “What are you making? It smells good.” 

“Jun gave me a recipe for soup.” 

He heard your satisfied hum. You always did like Jun’s cooking. Before the two of you moved in together, you’d always come around when Jun invited you, both to see your Jihoon (your words, not his) and to get to sample whatever meal Jun made. It was kind of the reason why Jihoon asked Jun for tips every now and then, always trying to improve a bit more. He liked to see you happy, after all.

A few minutes later, he heard you stand up. The blinds getting drawn. “Oh, wow, it’s really coming down, huh?”

“You were in it!” 

“It’s not that bad when you’re in it,” you hummed. A few moments later, he felt your arms wrap around him as you leaned around to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for looking after me, Jihoonie.”

He smiled to himself, cheeks growing warmer. “Someone has to,” he said.

Usually, you’d mock offense. This time, you just kissed his cheek again. “I’m glad it’s you.”

The blanket fell from where it’d been left tucked up underneath his chin (no doubt that was your doing when you climbed out of bed) as he pushed himself up, rubbing at his eyes. He’d slept in today, but it was fine: the weekend was always a fine time to sleep in. Last night had been the first time you’d slept over, and he’d already begun to miss you cuddling close to him (although he’d never admit it out loud—you could cuddle with him anytime and he’d be happy). He couldn’t smell breakfast from where he was sitting, which thankfully meant you hadn’t tried to surprise him again. You’d done it before and succeeded, sure, but he always felt a little guilty over it… especially if he woke up and saw Soonyoung sitting with you, gossiping about Jihoon as though he weren’t a room away. 

The sound of a soft knock at his door pulled his attention, and before he could speak, Soonyoung had poked his head in. 

“Hey,” he called out before Jihoon could greet him. eyes twinkling. “You should come see this.” 

Kicking off his blankets and slipping into his house slippers, Jihoon crossed the room and stepped out. Soonyoung guided him slowly toward where Jihoon could finally see you standing at the sliding door that led out to the balcony, attention pinned directly to where the first snow of the year had begun to fall. Soonyoung stole a glance back at him, smiling widely. He didn’t know, but Jihoon did: you’d never actually seen snow before. The two of you had met after all of the snow had melted, and it’d taken forever for the two of you to actually confess your feelings and start dating. And, sure, maybe it felt a little fast for you to sleep over at his place… but this was different. Your apartment’s plumbing had broken, and Jihoon offered to let you sleep over. 

(And though he’d also never admit it, it was Soonyoung who talked Jihoon into sharing a bed with you. He didn’t have to do anything he wasn’t ready for, and you’d been understanding… although Jihoon knew you cuddling up to him in your sleep had not been planned in the slightest, no matter how okay with it he was.)

Soonyoung nudged Jihoon forward, sinking back to give the two of you some privacy. When Jihoon glanced back at him, Soonyoung just nodded toward you…. and then immediately shoved him further before ducking back into his room. Before Jihoon could say or do anything, you had looked up, snapped out of whatever trance you were in.

“Good morning,” you said. “Sorry—The window in your room doesn’t have the best view of the city.” 

It was the polite way of saying ‘all I can see are the bricks of the building next door,’ but Jihoon didn’t mind. “Did you sleep well?”

With a nod, you turned back to the window. “I did. Did you?”

“Have you really never seen snow before?” Jihoon spoke aloud, already kicking himself. Why would you lie about it? You told him about it forever ago.

Yet he heard you laugh softly. “Is it that obvious?”

Jihoon made his way across the room, slowing to a stop once he was next to you. “Do you want to go out?”

“Maybe in a little bit.” Your hand brushed against his, only to take it a moment later. He felt the way your fingers flexed a little before intertwining with his own. “I just want to admire it a little more.” 

Was snow really that special? Then again… Jihoon liked the soft look on your face, so endeared to something so natural. His thumb ran across the back of your hand as he savored this moment with you. 

After what felt like an eternity of standing with him, just admiring the snowfall, you spoke aloud, “I just think… It’s beautiful, you know?” 

Jihoon didn’t take his eyes off you. “I know.” 

Stealing a glance at him, you let out a soft laugh. “Someone’s a romantic today,” you said, slipping your hand out of his. “Let’s go get breakfast. My treat.” 

If it meant he could see that same tender look in your eyes, Jihoon would follow you anywhere. All you had to do was say the word.

To paint the scene, you and Jihoon had been dating for almost two years now. The two of you met through work, eventually you worked up the courage to ask him out once it become apparent (no thanks to the meddling of Soonyoung and Seungcheol) that your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all, and the two of you had been going pretty strong ever since. Your relationship was technically out in the open to everyone you worked with (you’d filed things with HR once you went official, and you still remembered how red Jihoon’s face when at Jeonghan’s gentle teasing), either because of the genuinely sweet look Jihoon had on his face whenever he looked at you... Or because the two of you left and came to work together, with him holding your hand because he knew you liked it (always outside of the building, never in, lest he wanted more teasing from your coworkers).

Despite his gentle nudging for you to maybe try to take your birthday off, you decided to go in anyway. You wanted to save your vacation time for later on so that the two of you could maybe try and do something special for your anniversary. And, somehow, your birthday just... happened to be noted around the office. Most of it was a casual little “happy birthday!” from your coworkers, and then there was Kim Mingyu, who apparently felt the need to go a little bit beyond that.

“Happy birthday,” he had said after setting a chocolate cupcake on your desk. Curse the office’s common knowledge that you loved chocolate. “I stopped by somewhere during my lunch break and thought I would surprise you.”

Jihoon could see the polite, albeit slightly forced, smile on your face as you thanked him for it. You said you’d eat it later after work to avoid getting any icing or crumbs on your desk, and he seemed to buy it with ease. Jihoon took a little pride in knowing you. For all of your love of chocolate, chocolate cake was one thing you couldn’t have. You’d told him it once, although he couldn’t exactly remember how the two of you got on the subject; the taste was far too rich for you to actually enjoy, and it’d end up hurting your mouth too much. He merely filed it away as a little fact about you that he’d keep in mind for cakes and whatnot. Hell, if Mingyu had so much as asked him what you liked, he would have warned him that a chocolate cupcake was a no-go (”It makes her mouth hurt,” he would have said, “maybe salted caramel? Or just plain vanilla is fine...”)

After work, he had waited out by your car, leaning against the passenger’s side for you. You had hung back to collect your things and talk to Seungcheol for a moment (likely to ask when the hell did he or Soonyoung mentioned your birthday to the others), which meant he’d be stuck waiting for you. But when you showed up, he lit up a little, already composing a song in his head about the way you looked when bathed in orange hues. Maybe one day he’d actually write it and sing it to you. You always loved when he sang to you, and you supported every composition he made. You unlocked your car so that he could get in, and climbed in, carefully holding the cupcake up.

So he did something... admittedly a little impulsive. He reached out, taking it from you, and ate half of it in one go. Only to be met with your surprised face, stopping in your action to set your things into the back.

“Jihoon--”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Mingyu already left.” He saw the relief wash over you immediately. Of course you’d be thinking of Mingyu and his feelings now. “This way, it doesn’t go to waste.”

So you continued to put your light jacket in the back, too. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want it.”

“It’s okay,” he reiterated again. “I’ll find a way to tell him you don’t like chocolate cake before next year.”

You sighed. “I feel bad. He looked so excited to surprise me...”

“It’s Mingyu,” he said. “He likes doing things like that. Speaking of...” He reached for your hand. “I made reservations tonight at the fondue restaurant you like...”

Immediately, you let out a whine as you looked at him. “You’re too much sometimes...”

He smiled, though, happy that he could dote on you like this. He didn’t know that part of love would be eating the things your partner doesn’t like, but if it meant he could care for you, then he’d do it as much as he could. “I just like appreciating you,” he said. “Is that okay? I can still cancel them, I don’t mind paying a fee--”

“No, it’s okay,” you said. “I just... I really love you, you know?”

He did. But even after being together for a few years, your words managed to fluster him. Your relationship had started slow, but you’d always made it clear that you cared about him--even without saying the big ‘L’ word at first. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that you were really there in his life, loving and patient and kind with him. Maybe that was why he needed you to know how much he cared through things like eating a chocolate cupcake to spare you from having to throw it out.

“I love you, too,” he said, softer as he squeezed your hand. “Happy birthday. Let’s go have dinner.” He raised your palm to his lips so that he could press a tiny kiss against it. “And maybe... I can show you how much I love you when we get home, too.”

he knocked. you opened the door, and jihoon found himself at a loss for words for a moment. how was he supposed to say i miss you and not turn red?

he pulled a scarf (his own, and you knew it) from his bag instead. “you forgot this,” he said as he met your eyes. “i thought i’d bring it back. i don’t want you to get sick because you weren’t staying warm, so...”

you simply smiled and invited him inside. he could smell spices in the air from whatever you were cooking, and it felt like home. he shut the door behind him, and soon enough curled up on your couch with his bag left in the entryway. you went back to cooking, and jihoon shut his eyes, letting himself rest as he idly bobbed his head to the song he was listening to.

your soft touch roused him from a state of near-sleep, and he looked up to see you standing behind the couch.

“everything okay?”

yes. don’t worry about me. i’m okay. but he reached up, fingers curling around your hand. “i just needed to see your face,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering shut again.

you leaned down to press a kiss to his temple, slightly dislodging his baseball cap. he could hear you giggle a little as you readjusted it. “have you eaten yet?”

he shook his head. he changed after work and came straight here, after all.

“okay,” you said. “i’ll make extra rice, then.”

“you don’t have to--”

“i want to,” you stepped away from the couch, warm touch slipping away from him. “let me take care of you, okay? you can rest now, jihoonie.”

jihoon nodded, uncertainty seeping in. he was used to his friends caring for him, but this still felt... new with you. but he sank down, arms hugging himself as he readjusted his cap again to block out the light. he felt himself drifting off again, awoken only by you draping a blanket over him before going back to cooking.

maybe one day he’d have the courage to say those three little words he was feeling in every beat of his heart. but for now, he would thank you and say those words in the hugs that lingered a little longer than usual.

They initially had tried to tell him that soulmates were overrated--Soonyoung later ended up confiding in him that he hadn’t shown any signs, and neither did Vernon or Seokmin--and that plenty of people didn’t have a soulmate and were fine on their own. Jihoon shouldn’t feel incomplete (which, actually, Jihoon never said?) or alone because he wasn’t: he had his friends, and he could always date later on if he chose to. Maybe the comfort was a little misguided and something he hadn’t asked for, but he could appreciate it. That conversation happened long before three members of their friend circle found their soulmates, the most recent having been two months ago. That led to questions, and listening to those questions led to other people (namely the ones without signs) to get a little too caught up in thoughts.

There was comfort in knowing they weren’t alone, though. Soonyoung had confessed to Jihoon that he was glad that, if he didn’t have a soulmate, that maybe the other people in the circle would help him feel more normal. It wasn’t as lonely an existence if you had other people with the same circumstance. It hurt, though: Jihoon could see how starry-eyed Soonyoung would get over the idea of a soulmate.

And, honestly, Jihoon couldn’t lie: he knew he spent too much time checking his skin for words, for a name, or pinching himself and hoping to feel someone else pinch back or to taste what they’re eating or to start missing colors. Maybe he was a late bloomer. He never voiced those things to anyone, and he never planned on it. If the others believed he didn’t care about having a soulmate, then it was fine. He could be fine like that. The idea of someone being built-in to love you was... hard to swallow, after all. Love took time. Despite the way that Seungkwan seemed to claim that he and his soulmate were getting along perfectly from day one (Vernon had given him a weird look that quickly disproved that statement), Jihoon knew that you had to fall in love with someone slowly, the way Wonwoo and his soulmate seemed to be moving. So he had focused his energy elsewhere in the meantime, working on his music throughout his entire life.

It gave him something to do. He never heard anyone sing back when he sang, though, so mark that one off the list. He sang often enough to himself that his soulmate should have sung something back so he knew they were alive. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Are you sure you want to do this?“ Joshua asked for the third time that night, mixing up developer with the lightener.

It wasn’t as if he could go back now, products already open and mixed, but Jihoon could appreciate the check-in.

“I can always just bleach someone else’s hair,” he said, pulling the gloves on. “I’m sure Mingyu would be okay with it. He’s been wanting to go blonde for a while--”

“It’s fine,” Jihoon said, looking at the box of bright pink dye in his hands. One lost bet against Soonyoung and of course it’d be the one that’d result in him dyeing his hair. He’d already donned one of Joshua’s old shirts just to keep from ruining his own clothes. “Just do it.”

Joshua nodded, and began to section out parts of his hair. “You really got unlucky with this one,” he hummed, already beginning to apply the bleach to the end of his hairs. “But you’re also really lucky that I’ve done this enough times for Jeonghan that I won’t fry your hair.”

He resisted the urge to nod, just humming in acknowledgement as Joshua continued to work carefully. Loser had to dye their hair the color of the winner’s choice, and Soonyoung had spent approximately half a second before grabbing cotton candy pink off the shelf when he saw it. The bet was stupid, but it was.. whatever at this point. No point in dwelling on it. All of their friends were sitting out in the living room, waiting as Soonyoung likely entertained the crowd while Jihoon sat through this bleaching process. Joshua sang softly under his breath the same lyrics that he had been working on with Jihoon for the past few weeks whenever Joshua wasn’t busy with work.

“You went too high,” Jihoon said offhandedly, trying to distract himself from the box dye in his hands. He left his phone out in the other room, and he already knew that Soonyoung was probably filling it with silly dumb selfies that Jihoon would delete half of before filing the rest away for blackmail (and maybe a little bit because that was his best friend, too--he’d made one dumb rap song with Soonyoung before just to tease Seungcheol, after all).

Joshua merely chuckled as he continued to work, finishing the application at his roots. “So... Do you wanna go back out while it’s setting--”

“No.”

Joshua laughed. “I’ll grab your phone so you can do something,” he said, setting aside everything. “Then we’ll go pink, alright?”

He just nodded, watching Joshua disappear from the bathroom before he let out a sigh. The bleach burned and smelled like shit, but there was no going back at this point. He could already see the way his hair was lightening. Soonyoung better watch his ass if the pink looked awful on him. Jihoon could hear someone laughing--Junhui’s laugh, Jihoon was positive that he knew it anywhere--in the other room. He could hear the muffled sound of Joshua calling out for someone to give him Jihoon’s phone, someone else laughing (Seungcheol, Jihoon thought, but he wasn’t positive because whoever it was was farther away from the bathroom than Jun and it was harder to hear). The door opened a moment later.

“He’s not coming out until it’s done,” Joshua called back over his shoulder, before stepping back in. He handed over Jihoon’s phone before sinking down to sit on the floor, pulling out his own. “Soonyoung had it,” he said. “Just so you know.”

Jihoon set his contact photo to the stupidest selfie that Soonyoung took. “You don’t have to stay in here.”

“It’s fine,” Joshua said. “I’ve gotta keep an eye on it anyway. For what it’s worth... I think it’ll look good,” he said. Jihoon glanced up to see Joshua already smiling at him, eyes lit up with that mischievous look he’d get whenever he was around Jeonghan. “Pink might be your color.”

The next half hour was spent in relative quiet, aside from the occasional talk of the song they were working on. Lyrical changes Jihoon wanted to make to make things flow smoother, the guiding track he was almost done working on. Joshua could come up any time and get in the booth and get his part of the work over with, and Jihoon was happy to work with him. It’d come soon enough. The bleach was washed out soon enough, Joshua humming to himself again.

Joshua knew this process well enough, apparently. Soon enough they’d dried his hair completely and Jihoon was watching him mix up the pink dye. His hair was covered in it again, and he stared at the pink stains along his skin as Joshua started to clean them up.

“It’ll look good,” he promised again.

Jihoon shut his eyes as Joshua helped wash out that second round of dye. He was never taking stupid bets again. Even if the sound of the group losing their shit at his new hair color, dried and styled with the help of Joshua, was amusing to hear. Even Seungcheol, who couldn’t see the exact color (and started shouting for people to take pictures because he wanted to see it, and he would), made Jihoon laugh.

Maybe he’d keep it until his roots started coming back in. He promised at least a full week with it. He’d have to steal Soonyoung’s color-safe shampoo, but it’d be fine. Soonyoung owed him that at least.

The two returned home after a night of drinks and games with their friends, and Jihoon took one last look at himself after running through his nightly routine before he started to fiddle with his hair. It looked good. He honestly kind of liked it, if he was being honest. He ruffled his hair a little more, and resolved to find away to make it look better in the morning.

And then he woke up to his hair dyed a completely different color--a more natural shade than the bright ass pink he’d had--and Jihoon suddenly realized that he had a soulmate. 

He grabbed Soonyoung and made an appointment at whatever place would take him that same day to dye his hair another color. Fuck waiting. It might be a dick move, especially if you went out and spend good money erasing the aftermath of a lost bet on his end, but you could be mad at him once you found each other. A place took the appointment, and soon enough he was sitting in a chair listening to Soonyoung joke that Jihoon should thank him with dinner that night since he wouldn’t have discovered his sign without him.

(He’d do that, in the end, because Soonyoung... did deserve something. Jihoon was fully ready to go his entire life with his natural color, and unless you decided to dye your hair, he’d never find out you were out there.)

He went bleach blonde again, and then bright red. He could stand out in crowds like that, if he was lucky enough that you were in the city. When it was dyed back days later, he went bright purple. Again, and he kept it bright yellow. Any loud and proud sign that he was right there and looking for you. Someone joked that all it took was one bet with Soonyoung for Jihoon to decide he liked dyeing his hair. They shut up immediately when he made it clear that his soulmate would have the same shade and to stop whoever they had to for him. Everyone promised to keep a look out, and he was more than thankful. Someone had thought they found you, but the shades of green were too far off: his was neon, the other person’s was a little too dark.

He did meet her, though, and wished her well. She told him to keep looking. They’d find their soulmates eventually. Jihoon let himself hold onto that hope for once.

Before his appointments, he started going to beauty stores in order to get ideas on what color to go next. It felt silly to repeat colors so soon, and he was torn between maybe bright orange to replace the pastel blue he’d settled on before. You hadn’t dyed your hair again, but Jihoon was waiting for it. He was thankful for soulmate discounts, the documented pictures of his hair being dyed back too quick while his hair stayed healthy enough to prove that this was a soulmate thing, otherwise his bank account would be hurting too hard for him to keep doing this.

He pulled up his phone, snapping a picture of the oranges he was debating between. He’d send it into the group chat to get a second opinion. He could hear the door to the store chime from where he stood, and he started typing out his message.

“YOU.”

Jihoon looked to see... you. You, standing there at the end of the aisle with the same bright blue hair, were fuming. He could see the cashier already nervous, leaning forward enough to see him as you made your approach.

“You absolute fucking dick. Do you know how mortifying it is to be in the middle of a meeting when your hair starts turning platinum blonde?! My coworkers wouldn’t stop laughing because I got stuck with the schmuck who has a weird thing for dyeing his hair! They keep looking at me weird because I tried to cover it up the first few times before my boss told me to stop killing my hair!” You balled your fists, and Jihoon could say nothing as you let out a groan. “It’s bullshit! I mean, okay, cool, we found each other because of this, but I can’t keep going to work like this!” You motioned toward your hair. “I need people to take me seriously!”

Jihoon gaped at you, unsure of what to say. “Sorry,” he settled on. “I just wanted to find you.”

“So did I, asshole,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “We’re getting that shit removed right now even if I have to pay for it.”

“I really think you should just dye your hair,” Jihoon said. “I don’t think mine can handle it.”

He watched the anger slowly drain from your face as it suddenly dawned on you that... you found him. Even if you’d been pissed before, his bright colors had led you to him in the end, just as they were supposed to. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You let out a sigh, “and that one of my friends was in the area. He tipped me off and swore the colors matched.” You looked at him and then smiled, introducing yourself. “Your soulmate, I guess.”

“Jihoon,” he said. “Do you wanna... talk more?”

You laughed softly. “Yeah,” you said, taking a step back. “I think that’d be good. Just... no more hair dye after this, yeah? I’m sure the pink looked way better on you than it did me.” You stared at him for a moment, noticing the way that color had begun flooding into his face. “It definitely does now, at least.”

This would be a fun story in the future, at least. He erased his text to his friends, deleting the picture off the message, and replaced it with a “I found them. I’ll update you guys later.” before Jihoon made a call to his usual stylist. He’d sit with you the entire time while you were getting your hair fixed, already deciding that he liked you. The hair dye he could promise to avoid, but the way you were already turning his face red? That one he couldn’t.