heartsfromia - Tumblr blog

heartsfromia · 11 months

Text

while i still love you — w. junhui

pairing: non-idol! junhui x f!reader

word count: 5,695

genre: angst, established relationship

warnings: major character death, cursing

author's notes: i apologize in advance, please put down your metaphorical pitch forks T__T also, i realized during writing this that i have a hard time writing angst so don't expect a lot of angst from me T________T

Something was wrong, and you hadn't a clue what it was.

Was it the oddly high humidity in your room, causing you to wake up in a pool of your own sweat? Or was that your boyfriend, Junhui, hadn't replied to your text since yesterday afternoon? Which you thought was odd because even if there wasn't nothing to continue the conversation, Jun would usually send an emoji (specifically the cat smirking emoji), if not, a meme of some sort—he never wanted you to be left on read.

Your concern was obvious, evident in your furrowed brows and slightly pouted lips as you stared at your text messages with Jun, the last text sent around 2PM yesterday and it hasn't even been read yet by your boyfriend. Minghao, the mutual friend between you and your boyfriend, stared at you in confusion, absentmindedly eating his food as the two of you were seated in the campus cafeteria.

"What's wrong with you?" Minghao asked, shoving his now empty plate to the side.

"Jun," you muttered, resting your chin on the table to exaggerate your obvious despair from not being contacted by your boyfriend.

"Maybe he's busy with prepping for his internship," he tried to reason, but you only released a heavy sigh, your shoulders rising and falling dramatically. "You guys are okay, though, right? Have you guys got a plan when he graduates next semester?"

Your head lifted, eyes bright. “We’ve talked about it, and if all works out, then we’ll most likely still be together. Jun and I haven’t discussed on serious terms, but so far, we’re both willing to commit to the relationship.” Minghao mirrored your smile, relieved that his two friends are still riding strong on the relationship.

Yeah, we’ll work it out, you thought, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling at the back of your head, urging you to see the red flags you weren’t aware were being waved in front of you. You couldn’t pinpoint why you were feeling uneasy when talking about your relationship, but you didn’t want to worry or have Minghao meddle in with your business—he’s always been understanding as an outside observer, and he knew you never liked it when people made opinions about your relationship. So despite noticing the crease between your eyebrows and the way you absentmindedly chewed at a hang nail anxiously, he didn’t ask. He knew you wouldn’t answer.

Nevertheless, you continued to ignore it. As you drive back to your apartment, rain began pouring from the dark sky, the heavy drops of water blurring your windshield as you maneuvered through the chaos carefully, breathing a sigh of relief when parked in front of your building. You hurried up to your apartment, hair strands sticking to your skin when you spotted Jun seated by your door, staring blankly at the space in front of him.

“Jun?” You called out, but he didn’t seem to hear. You stepped closer, a smile pulled at your lips before you utter his name again, softer, “Jun?”

His head shoots up, eyes wide in surprise before it softens at the sight of you and then… darkens? Why was he glaring at you all of a sudden?

You dismissed the thought, asking, “How long were you waiting for?” He didn’t answer your question, pushing himself up and taking a step back to keep his distance from you as he looked down on you—literally, and figuratively. “W-what’s wrong?”

“Y/N,” he finally speaks, his voice low and stern—a tone you had never heard from him, and it caused a chill to run up your spine. Please, please, you begged in your heart, please don’t let the uneasy feeling come true.

“Yes?” You tried to hide the shakiness in your voice, but you failed.

“We need to talk.” The air felt tight around you, whatever bad feeling you had earlier were now showing its light, mocking you for ignoring them when you should’ve said something, anything. With his tone and his stance, you knew that what he wanted to talk about had nothing with the future you hoped for, how after he graduated, he’d wait for you, work a steady paying job, and maybe, when the time feels right, he’d propose. He’d express his never-ending devotion towards you, how he can only ever envision a future with you, that he loves you.

Everything in this very moment were pointing in the opposite direction of everything you’d hoped for.

“Do you want tea? It’s raining—”

“I won’t be here long.” Jun struck you down, his tone colder than the chilling rain. He stayed standing close the door, as if when the moment is given, he has an escape out. You kept your distance, though, despite everything in you urging you to reach for him—if it’s going where you think it’s going, then shouldn’t you hold onto for the last time?

“What… what is it you want to talk about, Jun?” You asked, the corners of your lips tilted upwards in a wry smile, trying to cover up the fact that you’re slowly crumbling inside.

You watch his jaw clench, and unclench, huffing through his noise as he closed his eyes for brief second. When they opened, it was as if a light had been switched—what was dim earlier, had now flickered to black and Jun’s entire demeanor darkened as he stared at you. “Let’s end it here, Y/N.”

You blinked. Then, you blinked again, and again, confused. Your mouth opened, then closed, eyes flickering from Jun’s face to his hands to all around your grey-washed apartment. Why was everything feeling so much duller? Where did everything go wrong? “Why?”

“How long have we been dating, Y/N?” He asked, raising a sharp brow towards you, but nothing else changed. Everything was cold.

“A year…”

“Exactly,” he uttered with a shrug, “I’m done.”

The look of anxiousness had shifted to confusion after his statement. “What do you mean?”

“Did you seriously never realize?” He asked, the corner of his lip twitched upwards, his tone condescending. You shook your head, the bile rising in your throat as you watched him scoff at you, his eyes glaring back at you as if you were a joke to him. “It was all just a bet, Y/N. I was given a year to be with you, and now the deal’s done, it’s over.”

You hadn’t crumbled yet. You were a car window, and Jun was the rock, lodged in you, but you felt the slightest touch against all you were trying to keep together, you would collapse into millions of pieces.

You hoped that touch would never come.

“I—” You choked, pursing your lips to keep from whimpering. A hand combed through your hair in frustration as you tried to compose yourself, to try to keep yourself together to at least get an explanation out of him. But what explanation would you need when what he said had said it all—that he never loved, that all of it wasn’t real.

“S-so when you said you loved me?” You asked, staring back at him with glossy eyes, the tears piling at the brim and threatening to fall.

“I love you, Y/N,” Jun whispered, his head resting against your stomach as the two of you lied on the grass, staring up at the cloudless night sky, a bit drunk from the cheap wine you bought. “I love you, Y/N, to the stars and back.”

You smiled at the sky, your stomach rumbling in a fit of giggles, drunk off of the wine and his love. “I love you, too, Jun, to the moon and back. Ha! I’m further than you.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes, “Only you would make loving each other a competition.”

“What was that, Jun?” You asked, anger slowly seeping into your veins and traveling to drown your heart and soul as you glared at him, waiting for his response.

He only stares at you blankly, void of the love and care that once adorned his smile, his eyes, and his words. His shoulders rose, then dropped, a sigh leaving his lips. “I was only pretending.”

And that was all it took for you to collapse—your heart, mind and soul, all shattering into millions of pieces, falling apart right in front of him and all he does is walk away, leaving you there to pick up the pieces alone.

Heavy, angry knocks echoed throughout Jun’s apartment, waking him up from his slumber. Grabbing his phone, he tapped the screen and eyes practically bulged out of his eyes. Who was knocking like a maniac at 4 in the damn morning? Jun drug his feet against the floor, rubbing the sleep from his eyes to see who was disturbing him at an ungodly hour. His eyes peeked through the peephole, and his eyes widened, spotting a seething Minghao on the other side.

Shit, Y/N must’ve told him.

His hand flew to smack his forehead gently, afraid that if he was too loud then Minghao would realize he was home, awake and in front of the door.

It’s been less than three hours since he broke things off with you, and even though he never did show it then, he, too, was in shambles.

He never wanted to end things, but…

“Open the fucking door, Jun, I know you’re there!” Minghao, who was almost always calm and collected, never one to raise his voice, had his voice booming throughout the hallway, practically shaking the walls as his fist pounded against the door. Inhaling a deep breath, Jun tried to calm his racing heart—who knows what Minghao could do once the door opens, he cares about you as much as Jun does.

“If you’re going to punch me, save your energy and leave, Hao,” he called out, keeping his voice level despite his heart aching. He already had to lie to the person he loved, now he has to lie to one of his closest friends. It felt like torture.

“Open the fucking door, Jun.” Exhaling a heavy breath, Jun took his time to unlock his door. The second the door opened barely an inch, Minghao kicked it open, taking Jun aback as he stumbled, only to almost fall when Minghao shoved his shoulders aggressively back. Jun backed into the wall, and only then, with Minghao seething in front of him, did he see the damage that he had done. Eyes red with anger, Jun’s collar crumpled in his fists as his jaw clenches and unclenches—Jun had not only hurt you, but Minghao—his best friend—as well.

“How could do that to her, Jun?” Minghao seethed, pulling Jun and slamming him back against the wall. Minghao’s fist clenched harder onto his shirt, the anger was mixed with confusion. “Why is it that she called me fucking crying, and telling me that everything was fake?”

Jun stayed silent. He couldn’t find it in him to put up a fight, only because he felt that he didn’t have the right to do so—he hurt you, and he hurt Minghao, for what? He justified his actions as an act to protect the two of you.

But he still needed keep on the act—the only way to make things easier at the end is if everyone around him hated him enough.

“Since when did you become such an asshole?”

“I’m a great pretender, if you didn’t realize, Hao.” A strong thud echoed throughout the apartment as Minghao’s fist landed against Jun’s left cheek, throbbing immediately after as it glows red. A heavy silence hung in the air, tension lingering so thick in the air, Jun found it difficult to breathe in that moment. He knew this was going to happen, that you’d confide with Minghao, and he’d look for Jun. You were never one for violence, but Minghao was, and if you weren’t going to be angry at Jun, then he’ll deliver the message for you.

“You made her cry, Jun,” Minghao fumed, eyes wide in anger and glossed over. “You made her cry, you played her, and you broke her fucking heart—how could you do, Jun? What is wrong with you?!”

“So, she told you everything?” Jun asked, his tone didn’t waiver a bit. He didn’t want to show Minghao that the break up affected him as well, he didn’t want to come off as if the decision was hard to make, that he regrets it. That would foil his plan.

“Obviously, you dipshit.”

Jun’s jaw clenched, turning away from his best friend as he asks, “Does she hate me?”

“What do you think, Jun? You disappear, appear at her front door to break up with her because it was apparently all a fucking bet?” Minghao didn’t expect to get a call from you late at night, barely able to get a word out as you were a blubbering mess from the tears and heartache. He found you on the floor, the door to your apartment unlocked because you never bothered to get up from where Jun had left you to pick up the pieces he carelessly shattered.

You told him everything that happened earlier in the day, while the rain continued to pound against your windows, no lights were turned on and you could barely get yourself up, too weak, too much in pain to even stand.

”I just don’t get it, Hao,” he remembered you wept, the bile rising up your throat. “We were fine what happened?”

“A year, Jun. You and Y/N were together for a damn year,” he reiterated, shoving a finger in his face as he seethed. “How could you let it get this far, huh? How could be with her, let her fall in love with you, knowing that it was all fake?”

Jun stayed silent. He couldn’t defend himself—he had no defense. He knew that if he said anything, he would break, he’d confess everything and all his efforts would be in vain. He couldn’t allow that, so he bit his tongue.

“Did you even love her, Jun?” Minghao asked, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even for the briefest moment, did you love her?”

I still do, his heart echoed, clenching his fist as his jaw locked. If Minghao never confronted him, maybe he’d be able to keep himself up, keep this act going on without having to utter another lie. Everything he told you was enough, it was all he could handle, he didn’t want anymore piling on.

“No, Hao,” he lied, “I never did.”

He rubbed his face, hoping it’d calm the anger that was present beneath his skin, corrupting his brain to hurt Jun as much as he had hurt you. “Fine. Can I, at least ask—as your friend and as hers—why, Jun? She’s too hurt to face at this point, so the least you could do is explain it to me since you can’t explain it to her.”

“There’s nothing to explain.” This was a lie.

“Bullshit,” Minghao spat. “You expect me to believe that not even for one second that you didn’t love her? That you didn’t feel any remorse knowing how it would’ve ended? Really, Jun? Do you think I was born last night?

“You played her for a year, Jun. And because you hurt her, you’ve hurt me to as someone that has been there for both of you since the beginning.”

“I’m sorry, Hao.” This wasn’t a lie. It was the first crack in Jun, and if he doesn’t push Minghao away, he’ll break entirely.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, Jun,” he sneered. “Y/N told me that you weren’t responding to her texts, and when I asked a bunch of your friends, you were supposed to be meeting with them, but you didn’t show, so tell me, Jun—” Minghao’s hovered closer to his face, voice threatening as his brow rose, “—was the bet a lie to cover up the fact that you’re cheating on Y/N?”

“Are you serious? You’re accusing me of that?” Jun scoffed, rolling his eyes in disbelief. “I might be the biggest asshole in the room right now, but I’d never stoop as low to cheat on anyone. Especially Y/N.”

“Especially? Does that mean she’s special to you?” A suspicious brow was raised in his direction as Minghao continued to egg him on. “I thought you said you never loved her, you don’t care to hurt her, why would it matter if you cheated?”

“It matters, Hao, I’d never cheat on anyone.”

“Okay, so where did you go?”

“I can’t tell you.”

A dry laugh slipped past Minghao’s slips, lips curled up in disbelief at the words Jun had just uttered. “You can’t tell me? We’ve been friends for over three years, Jun and you’d always confide with me about anything—Y/N, class, the most random things. And yet, you’ve changed so fucking much, what the hell happened that made you lose your trust in me?”

“I can’t tell you, Hao.”

“You can’t or you won’t, Jun?” he challenged, “because there’s a clear difference between the two, but either way, there is a reason, isn’t there? It’s not a bet, that’s why you “can’t” tell me? Because the Jun I know would never fucking do this, he would never hurt Y/N the way you are right now.

“He would never hurt the girl he told he’d loved to the stars and back.”

That was it. That was the trigger that shot the bullet into Jun’s shield—the shield he kept up, hoping it would protect him from breaking his act, and allowing for everything to spill out into the open. Jun shot Minghao a glare before he took large strides to his room to retrieve a report, shoving the paper into his friend’s chest.

“There, you want to know what’s going on? Read that.”

Jun watched Minghao as he read the report, eyes focused on what was written and brows pulled together, his expression darkening the farther he read.

“W-when was this?” Minghao asked, lifting the report.

“Yesterday,” Jun answered, “I was having a lot of painful headaches and decided to go to the hospital for some pills, but I got that—” he gestured to the sheet of paper, almost bitter that it existed, “—instead.”

“This still doesn’t explain why you’d lie to Y/N, Jun.”

“I need her to hate me, Hao, I can’t—” He inhaled a shaky breath, eyes stinging. “If the worst case happens, then it’d be easier for her to move on if she hates me.”

“That’s such a stupid conclusion, what do you mean you need her to hate you?” Hao criticized, tossing the paper to the ground. “You have cancer, Jun. You’re sick, and instead of telling Y/N the truth, you chose to lie and hurt her, and you’re here trying to justify it as if you’re doing it for her sake?”

“I don’t want her to be with me and anxiously wait for when the time comes, Hao, that’s killing her slowly, as much as the cancer is killing me right now,” he protested, “I cannot have her be with me, and be on edge the entire time.”

An exasperated sigh escaped Minghao’s lips as his fingers ran through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

“You can’t tell her.” Minghao’s neck almost snapped at Jun’s demand.

“What do you mean I can’t tell her? She needs to know.”

“Promise me you won’t tell her, Hao!” Jun demanded, his tone raised an octave higher—higher than it was during this entire conversation, causing Minghao to take a step back in shock. “You can’t tell her. I don’t want her to worry about me.”

Hao’s eyes flickered all over Jun’s face. “When does your treatment start?”

“Next week.”

“Is there a chance you can survive this?” According to the report, they caught onto it early, and if Jun is willing to cooperate, treatment could shrink the tumor and prevent any chances of it worsening.

“Yes, there’s a chance.”

A pregnant pause. Jun watched anxiously as Minghao processed everything before he looked up, locking eyes with his best friend, tears collected at the brim of his eyes. “I won’t tell her. I promise, but promise me, Jun—” he placed a hand on his shoulder, the tears falling, “—you’ll get through this.”

“I promise.”

—5 months later.

“Hey, Y/N, do you want to grab dinner tonight? A celebration dinner for the end of finals?”

“I’d love to Seokmin,” you grinned, the smile that appeared on your lips stretched upwards at the sight of him.

He mirrored your grin, eyes turned to crescent moons. “Great, I’ll pick you up at six? Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.” He nodded, spotting his friend over your shoulder before bidding goodbye. You watched his back with a faint smile on your lips, before a sigh escaped and you turned to walk to your car. You liked Seokmin, he was patient and sweet, and was aware of your past relationship with Jun, but you couldn’t feel that connection—you didn’t react to his touch the way you should’ve, his invite to dinner didn’t feel special, it felt like a regular hangout between classmates.

You hated the hollow feeling that Jun had left behind. He’d broken your heart, and instead of leaving it on the floor, he kept it with him, the spot that was once filled, still void even after all these months.

Jun was busy with his internship, and so for the past few months, you were lucky enough to not have to run into him anymore. It made it easier to forget about him—out of sight, out of mind, but unfortunately, even he was out of sight, he’s been occupying your mind since that night.

The days that followed the break up felt like hell for you. A part of you was ripped open, torn apart and you were left alone for hours, crying until your throat was raw and your eyes could barely open from how puffy they were. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from where he left you, you crouched and hugged yourself, cried your heart out before you were able to muster any bit of strength to call Minghao. You shouldn’t be left alone, you realized that.

The anger you could feel radiate off of your best friend, you knew that when you were fast asleep, he’d run off to where Jun was and teach him a lesson. You woke up the next morning in a panic, afraid that you missed a call from Minghao from the police station, but woke up to nothing but a sore throat and swollen eyes. Minghao didn’t seem as angry as he did when you saw him later in class. You remember asking him if he ran off to Jun to beat him up, but he shook his head, uttering some excuse you couldn’t remember before cutting the conversation off completely. It was odd, but you were too much in your feels to really care that time so you brushed it off.

You hadn’t heard from Jun since that day; you blocked his number, blocked everything about him, and focused on getting yourself together. There was nothing worse than letting yourself crumble over a guy that never loved you in the first place. The bet made you believe that.

Now, you were better—if you exclude the fact you couldn’t open your heart to anyone. You don’t cry yourself to sleep, you don’t catch yourself in a daze, thinking of the what if’s of what could’ve been if you were smarter, more carefully, and didn’t fall for his sweet smile, and bright eyes. If you didn’t get caught in the rain with him by the bus stop a year ago, allowing for the two of you to get to know each other as you waited for the rain to stop. If you didn’t kiss him that morning when he was about to leave your apartment after staying over since he got locked out by his roommates.

“I’m better.” You would often find yourself saying when you get caught in your thoughts. You were better than Jun because you wouldn’t have done this to him—you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to keep a relationship based off of a lie going for so long.

You are better than him.

The thought echoes in your head as you get ready for the dinner, the time was forty-five minutes before when Seokmin promised to pick you up. As you clasped the chain of your necklace, knocks sounded at your door and your brows furrowed, eyes glancing at your phone. He was early, there was still twenty minutes left.

Walking towards the door, you swung it open to find a frantic Minghao, hair a mess and in a hoodie and sweatpants, seemingly out of breath.

“Hao, what’s wrong?”

“Come with me, Y/N, it’s an emergency,” he rushed out in a panic.

“What? Where?”

“The hospital?”

Your eyes widened. “Why? Who’s at the hospital?”

Minghao spared you a glance filled with guilt as he uttered, “Jun."

The steady beat of his heart echoed in the hospital room, wires strewn all across his body, on his arms, over his mouth, over his heart. Tears welled up in your eyes at the sight, the only semblance of peace you could find in this situation was his steady breath as it fogged up his oxygen mask.

“He has cancer, Y/N.”

A whimper escaped your lips, a hand clasped over your mouth to stay quiet. He’s been sick all this time, and you’re only finding out now. Anger fueled your veins at that second, and exited the room, finding Minghao seated by the door with his face in his hands. “How long did you know?”

Minghao stood. “Y/N—”

“How long did you know, Minghao?” You pressed, your teeth clenched as you fumed. “How long did you know he was sick, and why didn’t you tell me?”

His head dropped, focused on his fidgeting fingers as he uttered, “The night after he broke up with you.” A gasp of disbelief escaped your lips, and you had to reach for the wall to prevent yourself from collapsing.

“You knew all this time? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I couldn’t, Y/N, I promised him I wouldn’t,” he mumbled, knowing well enough how stupid it was. “I couldn’t break the promise.”

You scoffed, a crease formed between your eyebrows as you stared at him. “If you promise to not eat your friend’s pizza, then that’s understandable if you couldn’t break it—this isn’t a fucking pizza, this is Jun and he is sick! Did you not think to tell me? Did that idea ever cross your mind?”

“It did, Y/N, but Jun—”

“Is this why he broke up with me? Was it a lie?” Minghao was silenced, afraid to look at you as his head slowly nodded, and when you thought you were finally better, you felt yourself crumble once again—for the same guy, for the same reasons. Because Jun lied.

“He wanted to tell you when he got better, Y/N, you have to believe me,” Minghao pleaded.

“Is he?” you asked, “is he getting better?”

It felt like your world had completely been brought to ruins the second Minghao shook his head, uttering, “He’s gotten worse.”

For the past five months, it had been a back and forth from the hospital, then back home. The long hours, the pain, the headaches, the sleep and weight he'd loss in the past few months had become a constant routine, and no matter how long it has been, he has yet to get used to it. He couldn't protest though, despite all of it, he still cooperated, he stayed resilient, he was adamant on getting better. Getting better physically, and mentally, all because he wanted to return back to you.

Jun was grateful that he told Minghao in the long run, he knew his sanity would thin if he were to go through this alone. Hao kept his promise to him as well, which he was relieved to know he didn't regret telling him. But it still had its cost. Minghao would be there during treatments, hospital visits, everything, and Jun noticed how much of a toll it was on his best friend, guilt clouding his mind whenever he found Minghao asleep on the stiff hospital chairs, or the dark circles around his eyes as he slaves over an assignment he brought to the hospital.

Jun would often find himself thinking if it were you there. Holding his hands as you waited for the call into treatment, wiping the tears from his cheeks when he feels too overwhelmed by the pain, staying his side throughout the entire process—being his anchor that keeps him steady during the storm.

He wanted it to be a miracle, that having you be the reason he kept going, that the universe would grant it.

It was wishful thinking, and despite the treatments, it had spread further. Before he knew it, his immune was failing, the cells weren’t reacting to the treatment and he has been bedridden for the past three days.

The steady beat of his EKG rang through his ears as he awoke; the familiar scent of medicine, and the fluorescent lights reminded him of where he was, where he had always been, where he will stay. However, an unfamiliar warmth encompassed his hand, the soft and tenderness of what enveloped his fingertips caused his brows to knit together, turning his head to where he felt it.

You were there; head rested against the bed and hand gripped loosely onto Jun’s. Amidst the noise of the beeping, the air conditioning, and steps of nurses and doctors running around outside the room, he could hear your steady breathing as you continue your slumber. Your fingers twitched in his hands, and he instinctively squeezed your hand, the action causing you to stir awake.

“Jun…” You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, blinking away the exhaustion that took over you earlier. “You’re awake.”

A tight smile adorned his lips, and although he was trying his best to look strong, his eyes spoke a different story. “Hey, Y/N. I’m guessing Minghao brought you here?” You only nodded.

You wanted to be angry. You had this entire rant prepared while he was sleeping, a rant filled with questions of why would he lie? Why would he keep this from you? Why is it that she was the only one to not know? Why, why, why? But all that anger simmered when you fell asleep clasping his hand, and all that pent up frustration disintegrated when seeing him awake and up close—tired, dark circles and hollow cheeks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Y/N, I thought… I thought I’d get better,” he uttered, words caught in his throat as tears stung in his eyes. “I was hoping to meet you again when I was well…”

Tears stung in yours as you glared at him, lips pouted and shaking as your brows knitted together. “You’re an idiot,” you managed to utter, the bile in your throat causing your words to crack. Jun couldn’t help but smile, his heart imploding from how much missed you, missed your touch. Pulling you up, he scooted over on the bed, giving you space to lie beside him, hands intertwined as you rest your cheek against his shoulder.

“When did you find out?” You asked, eyes closed as you listened to his heartbeat.

“The day before I broke up with you,” he began, inhaling a deep breath, “I was having a lot of really bad headaches, and decided to go to the hospital to see what was happening… I got diagnosed, but they told me it was detected early, so there was a high chance of treating it, but… but it worsened.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I truly tried to get better.” You lifted yourself, brows furrowed as you found Jun teary-eyed.

“You don’t have to apologize for trying, Jun, some things are out of your control.” Fully sitting up now, your expression shifted to that of confusion, “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why would you hurt yourself more by suffering on your own? Why—” Your voice came out as a whisper, “—why did you let me hate you all this time?”

“I thought if you hated me, then it would be easier to let me go if… if I failed…”

“Oh, Jun…” You held onto his hands, a pained smile etched on your lips as the crease between your eyebrows deepened. “I can never understand your thought process, and no offense—” you chuckled lightly, causing the corner of his lips to quirk up slightly, “—that’s the dumbest assumption you’ve ever had.

“I would much rather let you go, while I still love you, than hate you… You should’ve known that.”

You reached over, swiping at the tear that escaped his eyes. “Y/N, I’m sorry for all the pain that I caused you—I never stopped loving you, I wished I’d thought things through rather than make irrational decisions, but… but I’m grateful that to this day, my love for you never changed… And when the time comes, I’m grateful to have loved you to my last breath.”

“Not when, if,” you corrected, “keep trying, Jun… Please. If the worst case scenario happens, don’t hate yourself because you failed. Don’t call yourself weak, don’t call yourself a failure or a burden.

“You’re strong to have faced this all this time, and you should be proud that you kept fighting.” He smiled, squeezing your hands. “But please… Keep fighting, alright? Not for me, but for yourself. Can you do that?”

Jun was silent for a second, hesitant to answer, but when he felt your hands squeeze his, he nodded. “Yes, Y/N. I promise.”

His promise couldn’t be kept, and later that week, he passed away while surrounded by you, Minghao, and his family. Although you were angry at the world for taking him a breath too quick, you felt a sense of relief, knowing that he left the world while being surrounded by people he loved—that you were able to have a last goodbye, hand-in-hand, while you still loved him.

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #wen junhui #jun seventeen #junhui fluff #junhui scenarios #junhui imagines #junhui angst #junhui x reader #junhui x you #junhui x y/n #heartsfromia writes

98 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 11 months

Text

be my date — h. joshua

pairing: non-idol! joshua x f! reader

word count: 3,961

genre: fluff, minor angst

warnings: reader has social anxiety

author's note: reader is 18 ! dont call the cops on poor joshy, they have a two year difference too in this ;__; THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS BTW 🤍🤍🤍

It was that wretched time of the year, the time where you dreaded throughout your entire high school journey. As the winter air clears, flowers begin to bloom and April showers pass by, finals were ending soon and in a month, you’ll be receiving your diploma as a mark to the end of one chapter in your life.

However, it meant one thing, and this thing you hoped would pass by without your attendance.

Yes, it is Prom season. Capitalized for emphasis.

Dress shopping, various incidents of “promposals” taking place within the two weeks between finals and the date of the dance, you dreaded this time of your high school journey because of one thing: the dance.

You understood the appeal of prom. It was the one time when a lot of peers felt was a special closing before they enter adulthood, and college. It was the perfect occasion for everyone to go all out without worrying of whether they’re overdressed for the party, it was an event where couples could take this time to take a further step into their relationship, using the slow dancing portion of the party as a commemorative dance to a hopefully long-term relationship. Everyone would be there as a last hurrah with their high school friends, the same people that watched you glow up through your teens, and eventually bloom and flower on that one single night. It was special.

Unfortunately, you didn’t care. You got the appeal of prom, doesn’t mean you had to like it.

To you, prom is a nightmare. Your school isn’t exactly small, so imagining your entire year being in one, closed off space (albeit, the gym is spacious) sounded like a disaster. A clump of sweaty bodies, dancing to the DJ’s mix of school-friendly songs with lackluster beats—overcrowded, smelly, and just completely unappealing. Don’t get started on the huge possibility that someone would spike the fruit punch when the teacher chaperones weren’t looking.

Sweaty, drunk, overcrowded, you shiver at the thought.

Alas, your distaste and overall reluctance to join prom would be futile because you’re an introvert that, unfortunately, was adopted by a renown extrovert and party-goer.

“Have you bought your ticket to prom?” Yunjin asked, moving to sit on the empty seat beside you. You both had just finished the last exam of the day, and while everyone were packing to leave, you were waiting for Yunjin who was in the class next to you.

“I’m not going,” you uttered, grabbing your bag. “I thought I told you I don’t plan on going, dude”

She looked at you bewildered, eyes wide and mouth agape. “You can’t not go, Y/N. It’s prom.”

You glanced to the side, raising a brow. “So?”

She gasped dramatically, and you rolled your eyes. You anticipated Yunjin pestering you about prom. Ever since your senior year started, prom was the only thing she ever talked about. She raved about the dress she had been eyeing at one the most popular dress boutiques in town, you’d spot her by her desk, scrolling through Pinterest photos for makeup looks to go with her dress, and she even ranted about how her boyfriend had asked her to prom before finals began, just so she’d be at a peace of mind to study.

“Why don’t you want to go, Y/N?”

“I just don’t… like them,” you answered a bit unconvincing and it was evident with the way she rose her eyebrow at you. “I’m not a party person, Yunjin.”

“You don’t have to party, you can sit by the table and people watch,” she offered, causing you to snort. “Hey, people watching at prom is fun, and when I’m tired of dancing, I can join you and we can predict who will end up as what in the future after leaving high school.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” you began, pressing your lips together and shrugging, “I seriously just want to stay home, dude.”

“But it’s our last night together,” she pouted, her big eyes pleading. “It’s our only prom, Y/N.”

“It’s just prom, and it’s not like it’ll be the last time we see each other,” you reminded, “we’re still going to the same campus.”

“Come on, Y/N,” she whined, following behind you as the two of you made your ways to your car, planning to head over to Yunjin’s for a girl’s night. “Be honest with me, because I just don’t believe that that’s your reason.”

Yeah, because the real reason is because I have terrible social anxiety and an overcrowded prom doesn’t seem the most ideal situation to be in.

You wanted to tell her, hell, she’s your best friend, but you knew deep inside that the reason wouldn’t be enough to keep Yunjin from dragging you to the prom. It’s not that she wouldn’t understand, it’s just that she’ll find a way to accommodate to you to ensure you won’t have a panic attack, and by doing so, she’ll be more focused on you, rather than having fun and you knew Yunjin only went to parties because she wants to have fun, not babysit her friend.

So, you uttered the first thing in your head. “I don’t have a date. It seems pathetic to go to prom without a date.”

“Seriously? No one has asked you out?” You only shrugged. Unbeknownst to her, there were a few, but none extravagant—mainly through letters or asking you casually, but you declined, you seriously did not consider going to the end-of-school-year event. Her brows furrowed, the conversation seeming to end there as she scrolled through her phone, replying to messages from her boyfriend as you drove to her house.

“Is someone else home?” you asked as you pulled into her driveway, a car you didn’t recognize it being either of her parents parked in front of the house. Yunjin looked just as confused, shaking her head as the two of you climbed out and headed in. A new pair of shoes were at the front of the door, and from the looks of it, you assumed it to be owned by a guy. “Visitors?”

“Maybe,” she responded, kicking off her shoes and you sighed, arranging your shoes neatly. “Eomma, I’m home!”

“Yunjin, how were your exams?” Mrs. Huh appeared by the doorway of the kitchen, wiping her hands dry. “Y/N, hello to you, too. Did you guys do well?”

“We’ll know when the grades come out,” you responded with a warm smile.

“We didn’t recognize the car in front, is someone here?” Yunjin asked, and her mother’s eyes widened, nodding.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot.” She smacked her forehead gently. “Your cousin is staying here for two weeks, your cousin Joshua.”

“Joshua’s here?” Yunjin exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Yes, he’s upstairs, but he’s tired from the flight here, so you can say hi when he comes down.” Yunjin nodded in understanding, turning to face you, a metaphoric light bulb brightly lit atop her head as she grins at you.

“You’re going to prom with my cousin.”

What?! “What?” It came out less shocked than you anticipated; your tone dead, but as you stare back at her with uncertainty, it was clear you were taken aback, as if you didn’t hear her correctly.

“You’re going to prom with Joshua.”

You glanced around the room, no one but the two of you present in her living room. “Is the Joshua in the room with us?”

“He will be,” she gleamed, sparing a glance at the stairway that led upstairs. “He’s awesome, Y/N, a true gentleman and he can be your date to prom.”

It was your turn to stare at her in bewilderment. “You are talking as if he’s already agreed, Yunjin.”

“He will, trust me,” she began, heading towards the stairs and you following. “He’s a part of the pandemic generation of students, so he never got a prom, and our school is his alma mater.”

“And how does that matter?”

“Because, I know a few other people asking our seniors to prom, some going with their older sibling because they want to have an experience they missed out during their time,” Yunjin explained, plopping down on her bed. “Joshua’s also told me how much he wished he went to his prom.”

“And how are you sure he’ll agree to this?” As if on cue, the sound of the door adjacent to Yunjin’s creaked open and she grinned mischievously at you.

“Joshua!”

“Yeah!” Your heart dropped at the deeper voice on the other side of the door, Yunjin is seriously not backing out this plan of hers.

“Can you come into my room for a sec?” A beat passed and the door to her room swung open, a head peeking through. Light brown, floppy hair was the first thing you noticed from Joshua. Your eyes moved down to his doe-like eyes to his uniquely pursed lips as he looks to his cousin before acknowledging your existence, his pouted lips stretched into a warm smile. “Come in, please.”

Waving a nonchalant hand to you as he entered, he turned to Yunjin, raising his brows. “What’s up?”

“This is my best friend, Y/N,” she began, putting an arm around you. “And she doesn’t have a date to prom.”

“Oh… that’s sucks,” he responded, sounding a bit unsure which caused you to chuckle lightly and Yunjin to smack her forehead.

“You never got to go to your prom, right?” Joshua nodded, Yunjin’s plan finally clicking. “And a bunch of your friends are going to mine, right?”

“Yeah, a couple of them—I think Jeonghan is going with his little sister, and Seungcheol also has a cousin that goes to your school,” he explained. “Don’t you have a date already?”

“Yes, but this is not about me, it’s about—“ she held onto both your shoulders from behind, leaning into you, “—her.”

“I don’t mind taking you to prom, Y/N.” You could only muster a smile. It’s not about taking me to prom, Joshua, it’s about me not wanting to go, with a date or not.

“We’ll be preparing for prom starting tomorrow, you’re free to be our chaffeur for the week,” Yunjin jokingly offered, to which Joshua threw his head back in laughter, his laugh echoing through your head. The way he smiled, his entire demeanor—admittedly, you didn’t mind having him as a date to prom, he’s attractive and the way he so easily clicks with your best friend, it’s clear his intentions are pure, nothing to fear. You wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t have a nagging feeling at the back of your head, a feeling that comes in a tightly packed gift bag with your social anxiety.

When Joshua left the room, you turned to your best friend, staring deep into her eyes as you deadpanned, “I regret sitting beside you when we were freshmen.”

This ensued a fit of laughter from your friend as she pulls you into a hug.

The following week was busy, Joshua had obliged to Yunjin’s request of being your chaffeur for the week as he drove you all around town to clothing boutiques, makeup stores, and cafes as both Yunjin and you occupied yourselves with prom preparations.

You used the excessive time spent together to get to know Joshua a little bit more than just his name, the fact that he’s a sophomore in university, and that he was two years older than you.

Your conversations never lasted too long because of your duties as Yunjin’s prom advisor, and you had to focus on making sure you advise the best clothing to adorn your best friend on one of her most awaited nights—second to her wedding, of course.

There was an opening for a conversation to occur between you and Joshua when Yunjin and her boyfriend were busy getting their measurements in for a few altercations on their outfits, both Joshua and you seated in the front, watching as the seamstress wraps a measuring tape around your friends.

“You’re going to same campus as Yunjin, right?” Joshua strikes up conversation, expecting that the two of you will be for a while as your friends get their measurements in.

“Yeah, both of us are taking business administration,” you told him, and he nodded. “What are you taking?”

“Economics,” he answers, his lips pressed in a straight line—a habit you found that he does every so often when he’s unsure of how to continue the conversation.

“I’m really sorry, by the way, I don’t think I got the chance to apologize,” you began, your face contorted in guilt as you looked at him. “I didn’t plan on going to prom, but Yunjin’s very… convincing.”

His laughter shook his body slightly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, she can be that way.” Both your eyes focused on the girl of the conversation, laughing as she jokingly smacks her boyfriend’s chest. “But I seriously don’t mind, since a couple of my other friends are going as well, I thought it would be fun to, you know, make up for lost times.”

“Yeah… it must’ve sucked to have a lot of traditions be taken away because of the pandemic,” you uttered absentmindedly, “but that means we were in school together around the same time, no?”

“Yeah, but because of the pandemic we never got to meet,” he explains, “but Yunjin has told me a lot about you.”

“That’s nice to hear, I’m sorry I can’t say the same for you.”

“She probably referred to me more often as her ‘cousin’ to you, since after high school I lived near college and rarely came here.” You nod in understanding.

“I just feel bad because you probably planned on spending your semester break doing something else, but you’re here… babysitting us,” you apologized once again, an endearing smile breaking out on Joshua’s face—a smile that caused heat to spread to your cheeks, and your stomach to turn.

“I really don’t mind, I’m enjoying myself here,” he answers honestly, the sincerity clear in his tone and you couldn’t help to mirror his smile, finally feeling at peace with this whole fiasco that Yunjin had brought onto you.

Maybe having Joshua as your date would make prom more enjoyable then.

Joshua did make your prom more enjoyable, that is, until you arrived at the venue.

Apparently word that a lot of former students were joining through their own insiders had spread throughout the school, the representative from each year reaching out to the school and eventually, a bigger venue was rented out for the prom.

If you heard correctly, there were at least three different batches, including yours, joining prom this year, and the venue would accomodate the estimated 350 students. The venue they had chosen was a hotel ballroom, that specified in big events like international conferences, and weddings, but either way to you, the place was big, meaning that there will be a lot more people than you had anticipated.

You thought that having yourself get ready with Yunjin, songs blasting from her bluetooth speaker as the two of you did each other’s hair and makeup would be enough time to calm yourself down. It did help ease the anxiety that was slowly crawling up your throat, but only temporarily.

At some point before arriving, the dress felt light and wavy as it encompassed your body, and the makeup felt almost nonexistent, bringing out your features in the most natural way, while emphasizing the depth of your beauty. But, as you arrived at the hotel venue, all of it changed immediately the second your heart dropped to the base of your stomach.

All of a sudden, the dress felt too tight, clinging to you in the most uncomfortable way possible, sweat began forming at the palm of your hands and the pits of your arm, and the makeup felt too much, overcrowding your face and accentuating the flaws beneath. All of a sudden the room felt too small, and the people too many.

“Hey, are you okay, Y/N?” You didn’t know who was talking to you, but you felt their hand clasp onto your elbow gently upon seeing your paling face.

“I… I can’t…” Breathe, I can’t breathe, you wanted to scream, but the air felt thin as your heart raced against your chest. It felt as if everyone’s eyes were on you at that very second, their stares filled with judgement, looking you up and down as if you were some clown for showing up to this event. You knew if you stayed there another second, you’d either faint, cry, throw up or all of the above.

“Bathroom,” you forced out as you turned on your heels and maneuvered your way through the crowd and towards the ladies’ rest room, where more girls were found, staring at you in shock before you disappeared into one of the stalls.

I can’t cry. I can’t cry. I’ll ruin Yunjin’s $40 mascara if I cry. But it was futile, and tears began streaming down your face as you tried your best to inhale and exhale at a normal rate.

“God, you’re so stupid,” you cursed yourself through gritted teeth. You were sure Yunjin would be too worried to have fun, but Joshua, who wanted to make up for lost times with his old friends, can’t have fun, too because you’re having a panic attack.

“Y/N?” You sit up straight at the familiar, deep voice. “Y/N, I saw you run in here. It’s Joshua.”

You wanted to call out for him, reassure you’re fine but the bile in your throat kept your words from leaving your lips.

“I’m coming in.” Your eyes practically bulged out of your head when hearing his statement before you quickly stepped out of your stall to make sure no other girl was in there, before Joshua entered. Luckily enough, it was completely empty and Joshua stood there, staring at you, worry written all over his face when he sees you.

“Y/N, oh my gosh,” he approached you, not thinking as he holds your face in his hand, his thumb swiping at the black-tinted tears staining your cheeks.

The weight of the night returned and your breath was caught in your throat. Joshua’s eyes widened, pulling you into his arms, pressing your face into his shoulder in hopes it’ll calm you down.

A gentle hand stroked your back, as he cooed, “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay, Y/N. Just breathe.” Once you had calmed down enough, you pulled away and a tender smile adorning his lips as he wiped your cheeks. “Do you want to step out for some fresh air?” Wordlessly, you nodded and he clasped your hand, pulling you out the rest room, and out the hotel.

The hotel had a small convenient store near the lobby, and the two of you ventured in that direction, Joshua allowing you to sit on the available chairs as he bought you water and a snack, since you hadn’t had the chance to feast on the food provided inside.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately apologized when he sat beside you, placing a bottle of water and a melon bread in front of you. “You’re supposed to be in there having fun with your friends, but I’m ruining it.”

“It’s not your fault you had a panic attack, Y/N,” he reassured, placing his hand on top of your head in an endearing gesture.

Stunned, you stuttered, “H-how did you know?”

“I know a panic attack when I see one, and from how pale you were, it was clear you were going through it,” he explained, his eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay? What triggered it?”

“Prom,” you answered, scoffing slightly at how ridiculous you must’ve looked earlier.

“Is that why you didn’t plan on going?” You nodded. “Then why did you pushed yourself?” His tone wasn’t accusing, he sounded genuinely curious to why you would purposefully put yourself in a situation that you’re uncomfortable with.

“Like I said a few days ago, Yunjin can be very convincing,” you sighed, tearing open the bread’s casing.

“Still, though, you didn’t tell her?”

“I didn’t want to make her feel like she had to watch over me,” you answered truthfully, chewing on the insides of your cheek. “I thought—if I told her—then she’d go out of her way to make sure I was okay, and couldn’t focus on having fun, like…” You glanced up at him, “like you right now. I’m sorry… again.”

“I really don’t mind, Y/N, I feel a part of being your date is to make sure you’re okay,” he reassures, reaching over to open the bottle for you. You mutter a ‘thank you’ taking a big gulp, the cool water refreshing against the heat from your crying session in the bathroom.

“She was worried about you earlier, Y/N,” he informed, his brows pulled together slightly, “when you feel comfortable, it’s alright to tell her about your anxiety.”

“I don’t want her to feel terrible for putting me in that situation, though, at the end of the day, I still went along with it.”

“Knowing Yunjin, yes, I agree she might feel guilty,” he begins, nodding in agreement, “but we’re still not responsible over how people because, I mean, what they’re feeling is their thing to deal with. What we shouldn’t do is allow ourselves to be put in situations that make us uncomfortable just because you don’t want someone else to feel bad.”

“It feels like I’m listening to myself whenever Yunjin gets herself into trouble,” you muttered, hoping it would ease the tension you felt.

“I’m just saying, Y/N, it’s alright to tell Yunjin about this, I’m sure she’ll be understanding next time.”

You only smiled, nodding before taking another bite of the bread. A beat of silence, and you swallowed your bite to talk again. “If it means anything, I had fun despite what happened.”

He chuckled lightly. “I did, too, Y/N.” Another beat of silence. “Although I can’t say so for right now, I’m a bit… disappointed.”

“Disappointed how?”

“I had a lot of fun with you the past week with your prom preparations,” he began, followed with a sigh, “it just sucks that we never got to do one significant thing for prom.”

Your brows furrowed. “Which is?”

“The promposal.” Your lips formed an ‘o’ as you nodded. “We just suddenly became each other’s dates.”

“That is true.”

“What if I proposed something else to you, though?”

Your eyes widened with shock, leaning a bit back to create distance between the two of you. “No offence, but I just finished high school, Joshua. If this is marriage—”

“No, no, no, what?” He quickly denied, his cheeks reddening as a nervous laugh escaped his lips. “I’m barely through college, and I’m surviving off of ramen, I don’t think either of us are ready for that.”

The two of you laughed at that. You then asked, “Then what do you mean?”

“I was thinking of a less… life-time commitment requiring proposal, Y/N.”

“That is…?”

“I have tickets to the festival downtown,” he starts, eyes bright with anticipation, awaiting your answer. “Would you like to be my date again?”

Your cheeks flushed upon hearing his question, a smile adorning your features as you began to fee giddy. Joshua chuckled along with you, rubbing the side of his neck, “I’m sorry it’s nothing grand.”

“No, it’s not that, I… I’d love to be your date to the festival, Joshua,” you accepted, and his grin only widened. You then added, “But does that mean it’ll be our last date, though?”

His eyes gleamed beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, shaking his head, uttering, “Not unless you say otherwise, Y/N."

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #joshua hong #hong joshua #joshua x you #joshua scenario #joshua fluff #joshua svt #joshua x reader #joshua imagines #heartsfromia writes

363 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 11 months

Text

someone like you — y. jeonghan

pairing: non-idol! jeonghan x f!reader

word count: 4,836

genre: angst, fluff, workplace romance

warnings: mentions of death, dealing with loss

author's notes: i have returned from the dead. not proofread, and idk why but i struggled writing this ;__;

Jeonghan never believed in ghosts—nor, anything that existed in the spirit world. He never believed in ghosts, superstitions, or heaven or hell. He was just that kind of guy.

Today, however, as he crouches over someone that fell to their butt after colliding with him, he began to question everything he ever believed in.

Did he accidentally summon someone without him realizing? Was someone pulling a joke, and so his—what he thought—dead ex-girlfriend came back to life? Or did the accident that happened seven years ago never took place, and so his ex-girlfriend was alive and well, and now stood—well, fell—in front of him?

Answer: none of that.

It wasn’t his (dead) ex-girlfriend that collided with him in the lobby. It was you, someone that was the spitting image of said girlfriend.

“Ow,” you winced, looking up to profusely apologize to whoever it was you bumped into, only to be driven to silence upon eye-contact with Jeonghan. Your eyes locked for what felt like an eternity, your mouth dropped open, stunned that someone that looks like him exists on this Earth, and you had the audacity to cause a ruckus, and most likely, ruin his day completely because of your clumsiness. “I—”

But, before you could utter an apology, Jeonghan turned on his heels sharply and headed in whatever direction he came from, leaving you on the ground and your butt throbbing in pain from the impact.

As you were mending your aching butt, Jeonghan was mending his racing heart. There was no way she came back, just— she couldn’t, it’s impossible. There has never been a true phenomenon that proved someone is capable of coming back from the dead, especially, those gone after seven years ago. They should be ridden to bones by now, but there you were, in the flesh, and healthy, and alive.

Of course Jeonghan didn’t believe that his ex-girlfriend had come back to life, but when you come face-to-face with someone that looks like a significant person from the past, logic just doesn’t function.

It’s just… he can’t fathom how similar you both look. The strands of hair that gently fell over your eyes, the way your lips parted, wincing from the fall, and your voice—your God damn voice. It was as if Jeonghan was brought back to eight years ago when he first met her, and coincidentally, he, too, had crashed into her.

This is all one coincidence—one sick coincidence.

Turning the corner, he headed towards his office, realizing the morning brief will start soon with Seungcheol (the head of the division) and a crease present between his eyebrows, because there was always something bothering the man. Reaching his office, everyone was gathered in the main room, Seungcheol seated across from everyone that were facing him, but when Jeonghan counted the heads across from his boss, he counted one extra.

Did someone get lost? Jeonghan thought, staring at the back of your head. Only when did he approach the group, did he realize who it was and you did, too. Both your eyes locked, but where you blushed profusely, turning away and breaking eye contact, Jeonghan’s eyebrows scrunched together, jaw clenching.

“Oh, Jeonghan, you’re here,” Seungcheol noted, nodding to his employee, “we can start now.”

Prying eyes from the person that just entered the room, you faced your employer, noticing that he was looking at you with expecting eyes, to which you returned with a warm smile. Seungcheol begins, “Well, as you can see, we have a new face in our division—Y/N will be joining our team, and I hope everyone will be welcoming and help her out in anything she might need to adjust.” As eyes glanced towards you, you nodded your head, bowing slightly as you greeted them all—save introductions for later when the brief is completely. However, when your eyes turned to the guy you had collided with earlier, he wasn’t looking your way, instead, he was focused on the window at the end of the room.

You didn’t want to think too much into his actions, understanding that your initial meeting with your new co-worker wasn’t exactly ideal. Therefore, you tore your eyes from his indifference towards you, focusing on the brief at hand, not wanting to give a terrible impression to your boss and your other co-workers on the first day.

The brief ended with Seungcheol having to rush off to a meeting on the other side of town, leaving you at the hands of everyone else. Within the first five minutes of your manager’s departure, you were able to get to know your co-workers. The Financial Planning & Budgeting division comprised of three other people, excluding you. There was only one other woman, while the others were men—the other woman in the department introduced herself as Wendy to you, reassuring you that she can be as much help as she can, whether it be work-related or not.

Joshua was one of the two men that graciously introduced himself to you, however, you found out the one you had collided with was named Jeonghan through your male co-worker. “He’s usually not this… quiet,” Joshua had stated while talking to you, his eyes on his co-worker, who was dead set on completing an excel sheet.

“Oi, Jeonghan!” Joshua called, Jeonghan’s head lifting slightly with a blank stare. “Introduce yourself to Y/N.”

Jeonghan’s eyes glanced at you for a second before returning to his friend, then down to his computer, he uttered lowly, “Already did.”

Joshua was taken aback by his behaviour, sending you an apologetic look before going over to Jeonghan, allowing you to get settled by your desk. Was the collision really that bad? you couldn’t help but think, chewing on your inner cheeks, guilt beginning to flow through your veins. You wanted to stand up and apologize, but you didn’t want to make it seem like what you did was completely out of line, either. It was an accident—despite it being your fault for running in the first place, but you really didn’t think that Jeonghan would hold it against you.

I’m sure he’ll get over it, you thought, shaking your head to rid of the guilt, focusing your eyes on the computer screen.

He, unfortunately, did not get over it.

Or so, you think.

It’s finally been a full week since you had joined the division, the weekend at the tips of your fingers, and the only words you had exchanged with your closed-off co-worker were regarding a file you needed for reference. Other than that, communication between you and Jeonghan had been radio silent. Joshua and Wendy noticed; you had confided with your seniors every once in a while, Wendy would often point out how the two of you were acting as if you worked on opposite sides, and Jeonghan would get an earful from Joshua, claiming Jeonghan to be rude because he doesn’t want to talk to you, even about mundane things like the weather.

“I just don’t have anything to say to her,” Jeonghan muttered, moving his mouse aimlessly. He was done with his tasks, and until Seungcheol returns from his meeting with other managers, he’s stuck at the office, staring at nothing on his computer screen.

“That, too,” Joshua pointed out, his eyebrows furrowing, a crease of displeasure between, “I don’t think you’ve ever referred to her with her name, Han. Do you even remember her name?”

“I do.”

“What is it?”

It sounds too much like hers, I don’t want to say it, Jeonghan thought. Instead, he rose a brow to his colleague, “Don’t you have a report to make?”

“You’re dodging questions again,” Joshua sighed, rolling his eyes, before pushing himself up, “fine, I’ll leave you alone. You obviously don’t want to cooperate and work as a team.” Ignoring the snide comment, Jeonghan waved him off, returning to his black screen, the reflection staring back at him. He admits, he’s immature to avoid you at all cost over something you have absolutely no control of. It’s not your fault that you looked scarily similar to his deceased ex-girlfriend from years ago, sharing a name that sounds so similar to hers—hell, you didn’t even know this. Jeonghan’s behaviour—avoiding interactions with you, ignoring you whenever you entered the office with a smile and a cup of coffee in your hand, it was all unnecessary, and he had no right to treat you that way, he knew it.

He couldn’t, though. Not when the weight of his loss remains heavy on his chest.

As Jeonghan lost himself in a daze, you were caught in one as you frequently glanced at his direction. You weren’t staring at him for anything in particular, except the incomplete report for one of the company’s client on your desk that you needed help with. Since Seungcheol wasn’t in his office, he had appointed Jeonghan as manager adjacent.

“Just go, Y/N, what’s the worst that can happen?” you whispered to yourself, pursing your lips as you inhaled a deep breath and released it as you stood up, your feel clacking against the ceramic towards Jeonghan. However, the hypothetical heavy lead in your heels made the walk feel like miles away, and you began rethinking your choices.

What if he makes fun of you for not understanding the report? What if he deems you so unprofessional and incompetent that he tells Seungcheol and then you get fired? Then you’ll be jobless, broke, single, and sad in this capitalist world, leaving you alone to fend for yourself.

That might’ve been a stretch, but that’s not the point. The point is, maybe you should just half-ass it and then have Seungcheol yell at you—

“Did you need something?” Jeonghan asked, breaking you from your internal spiral of despair. His tone was dry, flat and clearly uninterested, matching the deadpan look he had as his eyes never looking away from his computer screen,

“Uh…” Come on, Y/N, say something! Your fingers gripped the report in your hand, and the crumpling noise caused Jeonghan to turn to you—well, your nervous hands.

“Just put it down, I’ll check over it.” He stated, his stern tone leaving no room for you to ask anything further. You only nodded, placing the report down and returning your desk, sneaking a glance to your standoffish co-worker. The report laid haphazardly by the corner of his desk, and you watched as he lifted it up, reading through with a pen in hand, marking it with revisions and corrections. The sight looked as if Jeonghan was one of your college professors, marking a half-ass essay and you cringe at the thought of fixing your mistakes, printing it and handing it back to him.

“Hey, Y/N, do you want to grab dinner after we get off?” Wendy asked, approaching your desk. “We can use my car, and I can drop you off home.”

“I’d love that,” you gleamed, “you can drop me off at a bus stop and I’ll just use that, though.”

“No, it’s completely fine—” Wendy stopped mid-sentence when Jeonghan appeared from behind her, muttering something you couldn’t hear before he handed a file to her. Her brows furrowed as she tried to call after him, but he just walked away without sparing a glance back. “Is this your report?”

She placed the file on your desk, and you nodded, seeing the familiar title. “Ah… Thanks.” Damn, he must really hate you for not having the basic decency of handing it to you.

“Are you and Jeonghan alright?”

“I’m not even sure,” you answered honestly. “I really don’t know what I did.”

“Yeah, it’s unusual for me to see him like this,” she responded, adding, “he’s usually very hyper in office, and he’s just been so quiet since you got in…” She glanced over at you, a look of guilt adorning your features. “I’m sure you had nothing to do with it, though…”

A beat passed. “Would it be too quick to submit my resignation letter?”

Wendy only laughed, ruffling your hair, leaving you to wallow in self pity.

The weight of the week felt heavy on Jeonghan’s chest, and he found himself in an environment he hadn’t been in for years. The sun shone above his head, casting warmth against his skin on the bright spring day as he carried his feet through the cobble-stone path, eyes glancing left and right until he arrived where he needed to be.

With a sigh, he smiles slightly, “Hey… It’s been a while since I visited you. I wish I could visit you more—I do. i’ve just been really… busy.” He places the bouquet he had brought in front of her headstone, her name written in cursive with the years she lived beneath, ‘loved as a daughter, a sister, a friend’.

“And a lover,” Jeonghan whispered into the crisp air, regretting never being open about their relationship when she was still there beside him. The memory of them had faded throughout the years, but the love and care he had for her will forever linger within him. Their relationship was unexpectedly short-lived, but he cherished them, to the point he was reluctant to move on and find new love.

Grief had always been odd to deal with, Jeonghan had thought. At one point that person was a constant presence, and then suddenly, they weren’t.

“I’m not sure if you’re watching over me, but if you were, then you probably know what happened the past week,” Jeonghan began, crossing his legs and picking absentmindedly at the grass surrounding him. He didn’t care if his pants got dirty or if bugs began crawling onto him, he needed to talk and she felt like the safest option.

“You might call me immature for acting the way I did to her, but she just… she just looks so much like you,” he began to go off on a ramble, tears stinging in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. “Then… then, as I worked with her… I don’t know, I just malfunctioned because I couldn’t process the fact that there was someone like you that existed…”

You were too much like her—you were spontaneous and hard-working. Despite Jeonghan’s attempt at distancing himself, he always caught himself glancing at you, observing you from a distance you wouldn’t notice. He was drawn to you, whether because of your similarity to his past lover, or because that was just your affect on people, he wasn’t sure. He knew he cared, even if he didn’t want to.

And he felt bad, it didn’t take any criticism from Joshua or Wendy to make him notice, he already knew that his behaviour towards you was unwarranted and unfair to you.

“Drop a coconut on my head if you think I’m being irrational,” he asked, a chuckle following. There weren’t any trees around him, let alone a coconut tree that was fruiting at this time of the year. “I’m kidding, I obviously am being irrational.”

A breezes passes by, Jeonghan exhaling a heavy sigh before looking up, finding the sky beginning to darken with heavy clouds. “You always said you liked the rain, are you going to rain on me to make me realize it’s time?” As if answering him, a rumble of thunder echoed throughout the cemetery, shaking the ground beneath him lightly.

“I’ll work on it,” he muttered, “it’s not an overnight thing, but considering how much time has passed already, I also think it’s time.” Pushing himself off the ground, he brushed off the dead grass and dirt, heaving another sigh as he looked down at her.

“Look out for me from up there, yeah? It’s the least you could do after abandoning me during finals,” he joked with a light chuckle, before turning away and walking back to his car.

The weekend went by in a blink of an eye and the excitement you expected to come Sunday night never did. You weren’t excited to return to work, Mondays were prevalent because of that feeling of dread that comes for a lot of people, but you weren’t dreading the workload, or having to wake up in the morning after sleeping in, you were dreading meeting Jeonghan.

Wendy and Joshua have tried to console you, assuring you that Jeonghan was probably just having an off-week or something, resulting in the cold shoulder he gave you. Nevertheless, you were reluctant on coming in, you even debated on sending a message to Seungcheol, asking him to let you have a day off but decided against it. It’s not as easy to ask as it was back in college.

Alas, you trudged your feet into your office, dropping your bag on the floor and turning on your computer. It was quite early, and the office didn’t have a strict policy on when to clock in, but you had to finish up the report from last week in accordance to the corrections Jeonghan had made. You flipped through the pages, a pained smile on your face as your eyes skim through the red markings of corrections, question marks and crosses.

If he didn't hate you, then he'd be lying because if he tolerated you enough as a person, he wouldn't have put a question mark at how spelt “labour”, followed up by writing “it's labor” underneath your mistake.

You heaved a heavy sigh as you slumped into your seat, opening the Word document of your report and proceeding to correct all that Jeonghan had marked.

Glancing at the clock, it was the usual time when people started clocking in. Soon enough, Joshua, Wendy and Jeonghan entered the office in that order. Seungcheol excusing himself from coming in because of a meeting across town, leaving the four of you with no briefing for today's agenda. This usually meant one thing: nothing. You had nothing to do because all tasks given were done, and since it's a new week, you needed a briefing for new tasks.

You didn't complain though, you knew with Seungcheol out of office, no new tasks on your to-do list, it meant that there's a higher chance for you to go home early today.

That is until…

Seungcheol (FP&B Mgr.) Y/N, can you please create a PowerPoint presentation using the materials I have emailed you. No need to rush, you can finish tomorrow.

It was around thirty minutes before the working hour ends, and Seungcheol had just sent you the text. You sent a quick response, opening your email to find the one he sent and clicked on the attached file.

It was only ten-pages worth of material, and considering the usual basis of PowerPoint presentation, you knew that you wouldn't need to put everything. So, you decided to work on it immediately. Even if you worked a bit overtime, you didn't really have a problem with that either.

When the clock struck five, Joshua and Wendy were gone already—choosing to clock off earlier, leaving you in the office and Jeonghan had gone out to the bathroom. When he returned, his brows furrowed at the sight of you still seated by your desk, eyes focused on your screen. He knocked gently on the dividers of your cubicle, “What are you still doing here?”

You jumped slightly at the sight of him, momentarily forgotten that he was still here. “Oh, I wanted to finish the presentation Mr. Choi asked me—”

“You're working overtime, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know—”

“How will you get home?”

“I usually take the bus—”

“I'm dropping you off, just tell me when you're done.” And with that, he returned to his desk, leaving you at yours with your mouth agape in shock. He didn't even let you finish any of your sentences and all of a sudden, after a week of practically treating you like you were below him, he's offering to drop you off? Is this guy alright? Did some alien abduct him over the weekend and probe him into being (questionably) nice?

Either way, you didn't want to dwell on the thought too much. You didn't decline the notion for a free ride, but having it be offered (insisted, more like) by Jeonghan made you skeptical. Nothing about him raised any red flags, according to your co-workers at least, so there is a high possibility that he's doing this out of guilt for how he treated you last week.

Nonetheless, a free ride is a free ride.

Once you felt the presentation was informative without overexplaining, you saved and shut your computer down. Gathering your things, you walked to Jeonghan’s desk, only to find him with his head in his arms, eyes closed and asleep.

You paused, debating on whether you should wake him up, but you didn't want him falling asleep and spending the night in the office either. While contemplating, your head cocked to the side, enamoured by how peaceful and less… grunchy he looked when asleep. Long lashes brushed against his cheeks, lips slightly parted as he breathes steadily and—

Oh my God, Y/N, you're staring at him as he sleeps, you're being creepy! Shaking your head slightly to return back to reality, you reached over and shook his shoulder lightly, watching as he stirs awake, and looks at you through half-opened eyes and…

What did he just call you?

“I'm done with presentation, Jeonghan,” you told him softly, scared if you rose your voice that he'd be startled by the sudden noise.

“Ah, alright, come on we should head down to my car.” You nodded, the incident pushed to the back of your head as you followed him, turning off the lights and closing the office door.

You weren't sure whether he should drive, having just woken up from a nap, but by the time you arrived to the parking basement, Jeonghan looked like his usual self—standoffish, and deadpanned.

The drive was silent, save for the music playing from his stereo and when he asked for your address. You didn't know what to talk about, but seeing that Jeonghan wasn't actively trying to have a conversation, you didn't bother and allowed for the quiet to take over the space between you two.

“Yeah, you can park here,” you told him as he pulled into your apartment building. “Thank you, Jeonghan, I appreciate it.”

A tight lipped smile etched across his face as he nodded, lifting a hand to wave slightly, “I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“Oh, you remember my name,” you spoke without thinking, your statement causing his eyebrows to pull together.

“What do you mean?”

So, you told him what he called you, and his face paled, mouth dry and your eyebrows pulled together, confused over his reaction. “Are you ok—”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I… I must’ve thought you were someone else,” he apologizes profusely, guilt clear in his features.

Your heart tugged, a small smile appearing on your lips. “Is it an ex-girlfriend?” You tried to lighten the mood, causing his lips tilt upwards, but it didn’t reach his eyes—sullen, he might’ve been smiling everso slightly, but his eyes told a different story.

“You could say that,” he utters, his voice distant, “she passed away a long time ago, though.”

If the earth beneath you cracked open, revealing the depths of hell at that very moment, you would’ve swan-dived into it—probably even doing a flip.

You couldn’t muster up a response, only nodding before you bidded goodbye, ducking into your apartment. Your body was filled with chills from the genuine embarrassment that took over you. It was one thing to say something, despite you not having a relationship—let alone, a friendship close enough with Jeonghan to joke that way, but it was another to joke that way.

“God, Y/N, you’re so embarrassing,” you whined.

As you were busy hitting your head repeatedly against your door, Jeonghan was busy hitting his head repeatedly against his steering wheel, having driven far enough that it wouldn’t look like he was still in front of your apartment.

“Why did I say that?” Jeonghan cursed himself, hitting his head against wheel after each word. No one at the office knows about his ex-girlfriend, and he has spent almost three years with them, so why is it that he just told you with only a week of knowing you?

“Because I’m stupid,” he muttered, answering himself.

Both of thought the same thing: how am I going to face you tomorrow?

Jeonghan didn’t need to worry about how he was going to face you because the second you stepped into the company building, it became your mission to avoid him at all cost. The embarrassment from your insensitive joke last night is lasting a lot longer than you hoped for, and you found yourself wincing at the memory every singe time, like a hot flash.

Luckily for you, Jeonghan was occupied, accompanying Seungcheol with meetings throughout the day that you were able to make it until your lunch break without seeing him. Knowing that Jeonghan usually has lunch with Seungcheol and Joshua in the company’s food court, you chose to stay put in your cubicle, hoping the bread and milk you bought in the morning would keep you full until the end of the day.

While you were busy mindlessly chewing on your bread, a YouTube video playing on screen and earphones in, you didn’t hear the door to the office open. Jeonghan, who had just finished his lunch break, had returned to retrieve a file, but to also see if you were in so he could talk to you. With your mind and eyes occupied, you didn’t notice his presence by your cubicle. Jeonghan chuckled lightly at the sight of you so focused, your cheeks stuffed with bread. Gently knocking against your desk, you jumped and almost squealed, eyes wide as you stared Jeonghan.

“Y/N, can we talk?” he asked, but before you could answer, he pulled a chair and sat beside you, keeping a good distance between the two of you.

“Jeonghan, I want to apologize for what I said last—”

“No, don’t apologize,” he cut you off, “you didn’t know.”

You stayed quiet, unsure of what to say, so he continued. “I should be apologizing to you for how I treated you last week, it was unprofessional and unnecessary, and I shouldn’t have projected whatever I was going through onto you.

“You… you remind me a lot of her, so I just found it difficult to accept the fact that you’re… well, you.”

“I’m… sorry…?”

“No, I mean, it’s… It was hard to come to the realization that she’s truly gone, and didn’t come back in the form of… you,” he tried to explain, cringing at how little sense he made. “It’s been years, but it was shocking and I was taken aback by how much you resemble her, and I don’t know, I let my emotions get the best of me—mixing it with work, and eventually, giving you a hard time to adapt here.”

When he didn’t say anything else, you let his words process before responding. “I understand, Jeonghan, grief can be… complex. If it makes anything better, I didn’t take anything to heart.”

Jeonghan scoffed, the tension melting, “Didn’t you tell Wendy you wanted to submit your letter of resignation?”

Your cheeks flushed bright red. “I was only kidding.” Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered you got, and instead of feeling offended, you laughed with him, glad that your embarrassment was able to ease the tension.

“I’m really sorry, again, Y/N, if it’s alright with you, can we start over?” His brows pulled together, shoulders tensing as he waits for your response, and this time, you laughed at him, finding his question endearing.

You smiled, straightening up before extending your hand towards him, "Hi, I'm new here. Call me Y/N."

His smile widened, reaching out to hold your hand, "I'm Jeonghan, welcome to the team."

[8 Months Later]

“Are we almost there?” You asked, Jeonghan’s hands not moving from over your eyes as he leads you through the field, still unsure where the two of you are.

“Just another… step.” He guided you forward before removing his hands from your eyes, then assuring, “You can open your eyes.” The sight in front of you drove you to complete silence, the headstone with a familiar name carved into the limestone, a bouquet placed in front of it.

“Jeonghan…” You’ve talked about wanting to pay her a visit, but didn’t think he’d actually bring you to her. It felt right to you, to pay your respects, and somewhat, ask for her blessing as well. Still, despite you having rehearsed what to say, your mouth stayed shut.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” Jeonghan spoke up, looking to the headstone, before glancing at you with a small smile, and placing an arm around your shoulder. “I wanted you to meet someone.”

You stared at Jeonghan with awaiting eyes, and as he nodded, you turned to her, smiling, “Hi… I’m Y/N… Jeonghan has told me so much about you.”

#seventeen #seventeen jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan svt #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x y/n #heartsfromia writes

501 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Text

thank u for including me here ^__^

⋆ ✩‧₊˚ ᴡᴇɴ ᴊᴜɴʜᴜɪ ʀᴇᴄꜱ ˚₊‧✩༘⋆

LEGEND:

⇒ 『✓』 - 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔡 (𝔞𝔩𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔞 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰) ⇒ 『📱』 - 𝔰𝔪𝔞𝔲, 𝔰𝔬𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔞 𝔞𝔲 ⇒ 『 ☁ 』 - 𝔣𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣 ⇒ 『 🗣 』 - 𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔶, 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔬𝔲𝔯 ⇒ 『 ⚠︎ 』 - 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱 ⇒ 『 ❣︎ 』 - 𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰 ⇒ 『 18+ 』 - 𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 ⇒ 『 ➳ 』 - 𝔬𝔫𝔢-𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰 / 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔰 ⇒ 『 🕰 』 - 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞��𝔭𝔰 ⇒ 『 ⚛ 』 - 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰

𖠋 do remember to read the warnings before continuing to read the fanfics!!

--⪼ ♚ JUN ♚ ⪻--

one-shots/time stamps

hui's moving castle - by @junkissed {➳, ☁, 🗣} toasted pumpkin seeds - by @junkissed {➳, ☁} 𝖡 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖡𝗂𝖺𝗌- 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 - by @mieohmy {➳, ☁, 🗣} when we're not acting - by @heartsfromia {➳, ☁, ❣︎}

𖠋 to be regularly updated!

do check out part 1 of my svt recs here, and part 2 here !

14 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Text

a helping hand — c. seungcheol

pairing: non-idol! seungcheol x f!reader

word count: 4,872

genre: minor angst, fluff, workplace romance

warnings: reader experiences sleep deprivation, curse words, reader is a b*tch to cheol cuz of sleep deprivation and an annoying manager

author's notes: i have returned with more (not proofread) writing !

Your eyes were practically filled with lead as you stared at your computer screen, the design you had opened on Photoshop blurring as consciousness continues to slip past your fingers. Whatever you had planned on fixing with the design in front of you was long gone with your sanity and will to stay awake. As darkness surrounds you, all you could hear is the clicking of your mouse and keyboard, your department completely empty aside from you.

Your eyes flickered to the bottom corner of your screen; 08:24 PM, it read. Everyone else in the department had gone home, at six, but because your annoying, and cutthroat new team manager was giving you so much crap for the designs you submitted for next quarter’s social media, you were forced to work later to fix the mistakes she had pointed out.

It wasn’t unusual for the design team to stay later in the office to finish up projects, but your former team manager never allowed anyone to stay past seven. Safe to say, your new team manager didn’t care—all she cared about was that you work quick, and efficient. If it requires staying overnight at the office, then better bring out your neck pillow.

“Hello? Is someone still here?” Jumping in your chair, you looked over the dividers of your cubicle, spotting Seungcheol, an employee in the Marketing division, standing by the door.

Raising your hand, you announced, “I am.”

Seungcheol’s eyes squinted, trying to spot you through the dark before his eyebrows knitted together in confusion upon seeing you in the empty room. “Y/N? What are you still doing here?” His footsteps echoed throughout the empty room, approaching you and seating himself in the cubicle beside you. “Working on something?”

You weakly nodded, sleep returning to fog your brain. “I have revisions from Hyunhee.”

“Hyunhee?”

“Our new team manager,” you grumbled, just thinking about the woman made your head ache in annoyance. “Since Jiha is on maternal leave, I have to handle both hers and my own projects, and Hyunhee—safe to say—” you motioned to the empty room “—she’s a pain in my ass.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “And this?” He nodded his head towards your computer.

“It’s for next quarter’s Instagram feed, but Hyunhee has a completely different idea to what my former team manager had, so she hates every single thing that I’ve given her.”

“Really? She’s that bad?”

You nod, your lips jutting out slightly as you recall how terrible Hyunhee was to you since she became the team manager. “I don’t get it, though—don’t get me wrong, she’s a nightmare to everyone, but it feels especially bad when it comes to me.”

“How come?”

“It might be because on her first day, I had a septum piercing, and she called me out on that saying it’s unprofessional and that I should remove it,” you explained, the design on your computer long forgotten as you shifted in your chair to face Seungcheol. Your brows furrowed upon a realization, “Wait, why are you still here?”

“I left at six, but came back because I forgot my phone charger,” he explained, “and since the janitor was mopping up the area in front of the lift, I chose to go down the stairs and walked past here and noticed the light in your cubicle.”

“It must be nice having an overbearing manager,” you mumbled, adding, “you can leave once work hours are over.”

“Why don’t you continue it tomorrow, Y/N?” He takes a gander at your work. “It looks good, too, you can do finishing touches tomorrow morning.”

“Because Hyunhee wants it tomorrow, before she comes in,” you responded, the urge to cry out of frustration growing stronger. “And this design is the one that she rejected, all of it.” You couldn’t but chuckle at Seungcheol when he stares at you with widened eyes, shocked.

“Is this even allowed? I get staying an hour after work hours end, but it’s almost nine, Y/N.”

“She doesn’t really care, just cares that the project is complete and placed on her desk when she asked for it,” you informed him, and immediately looked away as he stares at you in pity. It’s pathetic, really, to feel obligated to invest so much time and energy for something you knew could be completed within working hours. Maybe you were scared of Hyunhee. Rumors say that she got the job as team manager because she is indirectly connected to the Chief of Operation in your company, and you didn’t want to find out what would happen if you crossed the line.

Or in this case, submit a late project.

“Do you want me to accompany you while you work on this? I don’t mind staying in late,” Seungcheol offered, and your heart couldn’t help but melt at his offer. You couldn’t lie that being accompanied by an attractive guy as the hours grow late wasn’t a bad thing—it could help keep you awake, too, but you felt bad. This wasn’t Seungcheol’s project to complete, it was (unfortunately) yours.

So, you shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile, “No need, Cheol. I might go home in twenty minutes, and continue then.”

“I’ll accompany you until then, Y/N,” he states, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest to indicate he wasn’t going to move.

“Seriously, Cheol, you can go home, I’ll be fine.”

He only shakes his head, standing (or sitting) his ground. He then nods his head towards your abandoned project. “Go on, Y/N, move it to your USB.”

As you move the files to your flash drive, Seungcheol stood from the chair, eyes wandering around your cubicle space, noticing the little pictures you had all around the walls of the divider—there were a few of you with your friends and family, none that came off to be anything more than platonic.

Why was he even looking to see if you had a partner or not? His cheeks heated at the realization when his heart raced at the possibility of you being single.

“Seungcheol?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, what?” You couldn’t help but chuckle seeing his flustered face beneath the dim lighting of your cubicle. Your interactions with Seungcheol aren’t daily, but they’re enough to have you form an interest towards the Marketing division employee. He’s also the only one from the Marketing division that doesn’t give ridiculous deadlines like the rest of his team.

“I’m ready,” you repeated, and he nodded, taking a step back to allow you to walk ahead of him after turning off your desk lamp and the two of you left the office.

“Do you usually stay at the office this long?” Seungcheol asks as the two of you stepped into the elevator, and you shake your head no before answering, leaning your back against the metal walls.

“Not really, I get really bad headaches if I stay up too long, so safe to say I’m going to have a blast tomorrow at work,” you answered with a bitter chuckle. “It wouldn’t be a problem if right when I get home, I sleep, but I still have a lot to fix before tomorrow morning, so…” You trailed off with a shrug, Seungcheol’s look of concern not going unnoticed, causing you to chuckle. “It’s fine, Cheol… I’ll be fine.”

He only nodded, not convinced enough but didn’t press on. “Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, I did.” He nodded, and that was the end of your conversation as the two of you bid goodbye before climbing into your cars and driving separate directions towards your homes. As you had told him, the moment you stepped into your apartment, you didn’t directly fall into the soft covers of your bed, knowing well enough that the second your head touches your fluffed up pillow, you’d be out like a light.

So, you placed your work laptop onto your coffee table, arranging your pillows in a way that allowed you to sit on your wooden floor without flattening your butt. You brewed up a shot of espresso, ordering something to snack on as you turned on your personal laptop for an ambience. Once you felt that you could comfortably continue the project, you put on your headphones and got to work, eyes flickering between the laptop and the sheet of paper that Hyunhee had revised, making sure that all details she demanded of were there.

It was 4:52 AM when you finally finished everything, double checking and adjusting all elements before saving and resting your head on your arms that were folded on the coffee table. Despite downing two cups of iced coffee, the caffeine could not completely erase your exhaustion and soon enough, you awoke to your alarm, indicating that it was already eight in the morning, and you needed to be in the office before nine-thirty.

As you pushed yourself up, your head immediately spun, your vision blurring and for a couple seconds, an aching feeling pierced through your skull, forcing you to have to sit for a minute to let it pass. Damn it, today was going to be difficult to get through with your obvious sleep deprivation. Not even taking an ibuprofen could aid the headache that was going to worsen the longer you stayed awake, but you couldn’t call in sick, especially an hour before the day starts. Hyunhee has always nagged about last-minute excuses, asking (demanding) all of you to inform her 24 hours before, and anything after would not be allowed.

Pushing yourself, you quickly showered, deciding to grab breakfast on the way and within twenty minutes, you were out of your apartment and on the way to the office. Upon arrival, you practically sprinted to your office, eyes locking with your co-workers as they stare at you and shake their heads, indicating that Hyunhee hasn’t arrived yet. With a sigh of relief, you tip-toe into your supervisor’s office, placing the printed results and found your cubicle, practically falling onto your chair.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” You glance over at Yeeun, finding her staring at you with a look of concern. “You look really pale, Y/N, how much sleep did you get last night?”

“Barely any,” you answered with a pout, grabbing your phone to see your face. Although, you couldn’t really tell the difference. You did feel terrible, but safe to say, work isn’t that fun for you to put on so much effort for a job that doesn’t pay you enough. “I finished the Youngbok project just this morning.”

“Seriously? You’re still working on that?”

Before you could answer, Hyunhee bid everyone a good morning as she entered the department, her heels clicking against the ceramic floor as she walks into her office. You could only share a knowing look with your co-worker as you sunk into your chair.

It was good twenty minutes of peace in the Graphic Designs department, the clicking of keyboard and mice, and soft murmuring of the employees filling the air before a shrill yell emerged from Hyunhee’s office, a shiver running up your spine as you realized in your sleep deprived state that she had called you.

Yeeun shared the same look of genuine fear with you, as everyone stared at you with wide-eyes. You stood from your chair, the steps you took to Hyunhee’s office felt heavy, as if the soles of your shoes were filled with lead. Dread began to fill your body to the tips of your hair as you gently knock on your superior’s door, her eyes glaring at you before staring at the sheets of printed out designs you had laid out. You entered her office after excusing yourself in a tone nothing higher than a whisper, and she glances between the door and you, signaling you to close the door.

This isn’t going to end well, you couldn’t help but think as you push the door, the clicking of the lock practically echoing throughout the department, everyone outside of where you were, were sat at the edge of their seat, fearing for what was about to happen.

There was a deafening silence as you stood in front of her desk, watching as she flips through your designs, and you felt yourself disassociating for a second, in a daze as your eyes gloss over while staring at her crossing out everything with her wretched red marker.

A slam of the compiled prints against the ceramic floor broke your daze, and you found your designs by your feet, on the floor.

If you were pale from sleep deprivation then, you were now pale from pure fear.

“What the hell is that?”

“I-it’s the revised designs you asked of me,” you stutter, internally beating yourself up for sounding so scared.

“Are you sure? Because I asked for designs, not pure rubbish, Y/N,” she insults, her words laced purely with venom as she stares you down. Not knowing what to say, you stayed quiet and she took that opportunity to berate you even more. “I don’t understand what Mr. Kim had saw in you, but it sure as well wasn’t anything good, because how is that you have worked in this department for so long, and yet, are incapable of providing compelling designs, hm?”

“I’m sorry, Hyunhee, I will work on it and fix everything I did wrong,” you quickly apologized, kneeling down to pick up the papers.

She leans forward, resting her chin atop her hands, as she glares at you. “I want them today, before you leave the office—even if that means you have to spend the night here, I don’t care.”

“I-I understand,” you muttered, ducking your head.

“Leave.” She didn’t have to tell you twice before you dipped out of her office, tossing the paper onto your desk and slumped into your seat. You wanted to cry. You wanted to cry and scream, but you didn’t want to give Hyunhee the satisfaction that she actually broke you apart. All eyes were on you, however, everyone knew better than to bother or ask someone after they had faced the devil incarnate. Yeeun found it difficult to turn a blind eye on your obvious disoriented state, from both sleep deprivation and having faced Hyunhee so early in the morning, but she knew you’d snap if she even poked you.

You wanted to leave, walk out of the office because you believed you didn’t deserve to be treated like that unwarranted, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring your feet to stand up and walk out that door knowing well enough that you can never come back in. You would have lost your job—all the work that you put into this job for the past year would be thrown out the window because a woman that has barely sat in that office feels that she has power over you, and your future. In a way, she did. Her words will always go against yours, and hers—backed by the connections that got her this job with minimal experience in graphic design—would always prevail.

So, all you could was listen and work on the revisions she had given. No word had left your lips since you had left Hyunhee’s office, and no one bothered you as you put on earphones and focused on the project opened. Your break times consisted of staying seated in your chair, opening YouTube to watch some video that you couldn’t pay attention to, watching it for five minutes before closing and continuing the project.

Before you knew it, shades of orange had begun to bleed through the blinds of the office, people were packing up and sparing pitiful glances as they bid each other goodbye, their wary gaze not unnoticed by you. Nonetheless, you paid them no mind, completely set on finishing everything before the day ends. You were lucky enough to gain at least thirty minutes of sleep because Hyunhee had left the office early, allowing for you to close your eyes with no fear of being woken up by the she-demon.

You were tempted on sleeping, anyway, knowing well enough you’d wake up with an ache in your neck and an unfinished assignment. Your eyes were closing slowly, your screen blurring as you felt sleep take over you, only to jump, a scream exiting your lips when you felt a hand grasp your shoulder.

“Oh my—I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Seungcheol profusely apologized when he noticed the tears brimming at your eyes from the genuine scare. “I called you earlier, but I didn’t see you wearing earphones.”

Too tired, too angry, you couldn’t muster up a comment, only shrugging off his hand as you turned your head to your computer, the jolt from Seungcheol giving you a bit of energy to work off of.

“Hey, I heard, by the way, from everyone that Hyunhee gave you an earful,” he stated, sitting besides you.

You couldn’t help but scoff, “An earful? That’s an understatement.”

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

Aggravated, you removed both earbuds from your ears, spinning with a sharp turn on your chair to face Seungcheol, your brows furrowed and fury running through your veins. All you ask is to not be disturbed until you get this stupid, cursed project done, was that so much? “Do I look okay, Seungcheol?”

Noticing your hostile behaviour, his expression mirrored yours, with a touch of worry found in the glint of his eyes. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, Y/N. I don’t mean to be rude, if that’s how I come off right now.”

“Well, you do, alright?” You lifted your earphones, waving it in front of him. “If I have these on, it’s a universal sign that I don’t want to talk to anyone—you noticed them, why are you bothering me right now?”

Taken aback by your words, he was stunned—his mouth opened then closed, unsure on how to react to your sudden behaviour. He has never seen you this angry, not even when ranting about Hyunhee. You watched as his jaw clenched, momentarily looking away as if that would allow him to cool down, before he clapped his hands on his knees and stood from his chair.

“You’re obviously exhausted, Y/N, Yeeun told me you barely slept that might be why you’re being the way you are right now,” Seungcheol pointed out, “I’ll leave you alone, alright? I’m so sorry that I actually give a shit about you, and wanted to make sure you were okay.” Before you could take back all you had said, Seungcheol was out the door, leaving you in your office alone, the darkness encompassing you, seeping deep within to your bones.

The one person that genuinely was there for you, only ever cared for you, and put him on the receiving end of your shitty day. Way to go, Y/N.

Rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palm, whatever energy you had to work on the project was thrown out the window, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to continue clicking the mouse or tapping the keyboard, not with the guilt from how you spoke to Seungcheol still plaguing your thoughts. You weren’t going to get anything done at this point.

Packing your things, you quickly rushed out to your car, praying that he didn’t completely hate you as you drove to his apartment. You weren’t sure what you were going to do once you got there, but what you were sure was that you’ll grovel, and hope he forgives you for being such an ass, unwarranted. Upon arrival, you practically jumped out of your car, rushing up the evacuation steps to his floor, and reached up to knock, but paused.

What if he doesn’t forgive you? It’s not like your friendship with him was more than as acquaintances. He didn’t have anything to lose with losing you, but you felt you had everything to lose with losing him. He was the first person you got to know in this stupid company—as he mentored you during your internship in the company. Then, after you graduated college, you reached out again, and applied for the Graphic Design division. Seungcheol guided you ever since, and admittedly, you’ve grown fond of him—you admired him as a role model, and more.

He’s not obligated to forgive you, but you already came this far, might as well give it a try?

Taking a deep breath, you gently knocked on his door a few times, hearing rustling on the other side before the door swung open, revealing Seungcheol already out of his work clothes, and in a plain white tee and grey sweatpants. “I thought I said just leave it by the— Y/N?”

“Sorry, I forgot your delivery at the restaurant,” you improved, causing Seungcheol’s thick brows to furrow before he chuckled, your joke successfully amusing him.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s definitely not to deliver your food, that’s for sure,” you awkwardly smiled, feeling your heart race from seeing him in such a laid-back outfit. You had never seen Seungcheol wear anything other than the button-ups and slacks you were used to seeing at the work, so seeing him look so… cozy, was a sight you wish to never grow tired of.

The corner of Seungcheol’s lips tilted upwards, but he didn’t laugh. Leaning against the frame of his door, he crossed his (muscular) arms over his chest, waiting for an explanation as to why you suddenly appeared at his front door.

“Look, Seungcheol—”

“Delivery for Choi Seungcheol.” A new voice caused you to jump, both your heads turning to see the delivery boy appear from the turn, his eyes looking questioningly at both you and your acquaintance. “Choi Seungcheol?”

“That’s me, thanks,” Seungcheol uttered, reaching out and taking the plastic bags from the delivery boy, the latter leaving with a tilt of his hat towards you and disappearing past the corner.

“As I was—” You turn to face Seungcheol again, but he, too, disappeared. You peeked into his apartment to find him pulling out his order, arranging them on his coffee table before sitting on the floor. He glances up at you, wordlessly waving for you to come in, and unsure what else to do, you obliged, closing the door behind you and slipping your feet out your shoes.

“I didn’t expect company, but dig in if you want,” he uttered, handing you a pair of chopsticks. It was only then did you realize that you barely ate today, too occupied with the stupid project. “If it’s not enough, we can always order more.”

“Seungcheol, I’m trying to apologize to you,” you spoke up, head tilted down at your knees. “I’m really sorry for taking my anger out on you… You of all people didn’t deserve it…”

When Seungcheol didn’t respond, you looked up to find him slurping up jjajangmyeon, eyes trained on his TV. “Are you serious?”

He glanced over at you, stifling a laugh before wiping his mouth with tissue, “I thought you were going to go on a full rant, at least three paragraphs.”

You pouted, “Me coming here was on a whim, I didn’t really prepare anything.”

He found your defeated expression adorable, couldn’t help but chuckle as he pushes a bowl towards you, adding the noodles onto the empty space before tapping the rim, gesturing for you to eat. “You’re really pale, Y/N, did you eat anything today?”

“Probably cup noodles,” you mumbled, eyes glimmering at the sight of the thickly coated noodles. “I couldn’t really do anything other than work on that stupid project.”

“Hyunhee made you stay late again?” You nodded, your cheeks full of the noodles. “Look, Y/N, I know you love being a graphic designer, but do you really think it’s alright to work under someone like her? This seems like she’s abusing her power as team manager, and overworking you.” As he spoke, he reached out with a tissue in hand, wiping the corner of your lips. Why did he look so nonchalant about it, too?

“I don’t want to quit, though, I’ve been here longer than she has, why do I have to leave?” You complained once you swallowed the noodles. “I just… I hate it, you know? I’ve just been trying so damn hard, yet nothing ever works out… Especially since she came into the picture.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

“How about transferring divisions?” Seungcheol quipped, continuing, “I’m sure if you make a letter of intent to the department manager, you could be moved to a different division where Hyunhee doesn’t exist.”

“Is that possible?”

He nodded. “Did you think I was always in the Marketing division?”

“I honestly thought you’d be a finance guy.”

“I was.” Your widened eyes caused him to laugh. “Then I moved, it was a few months before you came in as an intern.”

“Really?” He nods, and you thought about it. “You think I’d be allowed to move divisions?”

“Yeah, why not? If you give a good reason to why you should be moved, then it’s possible.” You pondered over the suggestion, the two of you letting a few minutes of silence pass while eating before you spoke up again.

“But I don’t want to leave the department.”

“Then ask to be transferred to a different division.”

“What about your division?” Seungcheol stares at you with bewildered eyes, genuinely surprised at your suggestion. “I mean, it’s less work for you since I already have experience working with you, and I won’t need a mentor—I already know the head, so that’s also less work.”

“No, not mine, Y/N,”

“Why not?”

“It’s a violation of our code of conducts, Y/N, don’t you know?”

“What about me moving to your division violates the code of conducts?”

“Employees from the same division are not allowed to fraternize with one another,” he explains, “if you move to my division, we’ll be co-workers.”

“So? It’s not like we’re dating.”

“Not yet.”

“Sure—” You froze, the chopsticks you raised to your lips dropping back into the bowl. “—What?”

“What?” Seungcheol asked, nonchalant. His tone might’ve been nonchalant and unbothered, but you could see from his cheeks to the points of his ears were flushed a bright red under the warm lighting of his living room.

“You like me?”

He shrugged, “Why do you think I walk by your office every day?”

“I thought you only did that because the janitor was cleaning the floor.”

He inhaled a deep breath, releasing the heavy sigh before standing to grab water from the kitchen, ruffling your hair on the way. “You’re very oblivious, Y/N.”

“S-so, all this time?”

“Not all this time, Y/N, I just know that I see you more than just an acquaintance,” he explains, tossing you a bottle of water. “But that’s not important right now. Right now we need to get you out of Hyunhee’s team.”

How… How is he able to continue this conversation after admitting to having feelings for you? How is he so calm?

He wasn’t. If you looked closer, the only reason why he tossed you the bottle was because if he handed it to you, then you’d most likely notice his shaking hands. The only reason why he changed the topic was because the longer you talk about him and his feelings, the redder he’ll be and to be honest, he likes to come off calm and collected to you, despite being the complete opposite when it comes to being near you.

“You’ll help me with that?”

Seungcheol nods. “Of course I would—just think of me as a helping hand now, Y/N. I help you, and you can help me when the time comes.”

“And what would you need help with, Choi Seungcheol?”

“I have two tickets to movie Saturday night, I’ll need help to make sure the other ticket doesn’t go to waste, Y/N,” he proposed, causing your cheeks to ache from the smile on your face. “But right now, I need help finishing this food. Are you up for it?”

You chuckled, nodding, “I’ll gladly give you a helping hand.”

805 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Note

AAA thank you for including me here 🫶

do you have any svt fluff recs? the more sickeningly sweet the better! ty! <3

helloo!! so sorry for the late reply! work has been kicking my ass lately because i need to go to yoongis concert 🤡

but these fics are the fluffy fics that i fully enjoy!

if anyone would love to recommend some more sickeningly sweet fluff fics for svt, please do let us know!🥺

SEUNGCHEOL

6:29AM || @ksywoo

Best Birthday Ever || @svtnctimagines-blog

Live Stream || @pileofwords

What's Mine Is Yours || @meowonwoos

You've Got Something On Your Face || @ravixen

WONWOO

06:17 || @wonwoonlight

8:23AM || @blue-jisungs

Complete || @wonlouvre

Forgive Me || @playmetheclassics

Hoodie Szn || @heartsforwoo

Midnight Surprise || @etherealyoungk

My Way To You || @wonwoonlight (series)

One Call Away || @astraeakira

String You Along || @heartsfromia

This Love || @wonlouvre

JUNHUI

00:23 || @yv17

SOONYOUNG

Love Hard || @wondernus (smau)

MINGYU

Burnt Bread || @ahyeah-ahyeah

Mayo Sandwiches || @junkissed

SEUNGKWAN

Mission Possible || @thepixelelf

#brb im a mess gonna cry lolz

97 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Text

omgg thank you for including me here <333

everything below is sfw and or suggestive. last updated: 02.10.2022 [rec masterlist!]

OCTOBER 2022 READS!

study dates with nct dream. @moonjella

your city gives me asthma. mark x reader @rrxnjun

NOVEMBER 2022 READS!

annoying (derogatory). haechan x reader @rrxnjun

hot summer nights. mark x reader @xosimo

swiper no swiping. haechan x reader @xosimo

7pm. haechan x reader @kisstuals

au revoir. jisung x reader @kisstuals

flowers in your hair. taeyong x reader @solarune

heart is lost and lonely, but with you there’s forever only. jaehyun x reader @purinpeach

recharge. taeil x reader @lunena

chapstick. vernon x reader @dokcheol

untitled. joshua x reader @shuatm

boy, you write your name (i can do the same). scoups x reader @97-liners

DECEMBER 2022 READS!

jeonghan’s guide to insurance fraud and falling in love. jeonghan x reader @starsstuddedsky

wanna be yours. wonwoo x reader @viastro

until you. the8 x reader @heartsfromia

svt boyfriend habits @odxrilove

hardcover. wonwoo x reader @markberries

feelings. wonwoo x reader @markberries

if you call me. dk x reader @starsstuddedsky

my christmas wish come true. mark x reader @sehunniepotwrites

some guy. mark x reader @gyu-xiao

the love lottery. doyoung x reader @loeycity

the happened unhappended. jaemin x reader @rouiyan

you say i’m in love. xiaojun x reader @rouiyan

growing pains. mark x reader @basicallywhiterice

the closing remarks. mark x reader @basicallywhiterice

rewind. play. mark x reader @chittapornswife

pop tarts. haechan x reader @naexity

break your heart right back. jay x reader @ddeonuism

the damsel in distress initiative. sunoo x reader @ddeonuism

moments like these. jay x reader @koishua

heesung as your programmer bf. heesung x reader @soov

worth saving. jake x reader @mxxndreams

i failed. vernon @userjuyo

untitled. jaehyun x reader @haepii

#brb crying part 2445655

81 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Text

third times the charm — l. chan

pairing: non-idol! chan x f!reader

word count: 2,485

genre: fluff, crack-ish

warnings: chan gives secondhand embarrassment

author's notes: this is the last for my oneshots pt. 1, and i'll be continuing w more, and a heads up that they'll be angst since yk gotta widen my range lol

It was as if the heavens had descended upon Chan the second he stepped into the café; the sight of you behind the counter, eyes trained on the porter filter as you pressed the espresso grinds before locking it in the espresso machine, focused on ensuring the contents of the caffeinated liquid were sufficient for the drink you were working on.

Normally he wouldn’t be fazed, it’s not like he’s never met a girl before. He just never met a girl as beautiful as you.

“Morning, how can I help you?” Even your voice was angelic. You were caught-off guard by Chan as he stood in front of you, not stating your order—as if he was caught in a daze. You blinked in confusion, before raising your hand and waving it over his face, “Hello?”

It worked, and he jumped, shaking his head slightly to return back to reality. He was totally not thinking about how you two would live in an apartment uptown, own a Siamese cat, and a Golden Retriever. “Oh, sorry… what did you say?”

You chuckled awkwardly, “What would you like to order?”

“Uhm, an iced Americano, and two caramel latte—” His eyes darted towards the name-tag by your collar. “—Y/N.”

You nodded, punching in his order, before asking, “Take out?”

“Yes, please.” It felt as if he couldn’t take his eyes off you as you informed him the total, and he hurriedly reached in his pocket and handing you a twenty. “You can keep the change.”

This is almost a ten dollar tip, you thought.

“And the order will be under what name?”

There was a momentary pause before he jumped, stammering, “Uh, Chan! Chan, under… Chan.”

“Okay, it'll be ready in a few minutes.” You quickly turned, not wanting to witness him as he awkwardly nods, mouth opening to respond but nothing coming out.

You weren’t going to lie, and act like you didn’t notice his staring—to say the least, you were used to it. Not in a all-too-vain way, but you were aware when guys found you attractive—their dazed looks would eventually lead them to asking for your number, and then you’d be disappointed because all of them expected you to cave and agree to their proposals to go on a date.

You hated that pattern.

Within this year alone, you’ve had two guys approach you—star-struck from meeting you, and asked you out on a date, with no intentions with getting to know you first. Sure, you knew dates were a place where people can get to know each other, but dates were also places that led to a relationship, and to be honest, you never wanted to jump right into one with just anyone. You loathed the idea of constantly going on dates, just to become someone’s girlfriend. What about being friends first?

Nonetheless, knowing this, you’d put those guys through a test, and if they don’t pass then mission: ghost them until they get the hint and leave you alone, is commenced.

You knew Chan would fall on that list of failures, so you didn’t pay him too much mind as you worked on his order.

“Have a great day,” you uttered, and Chan smiled, wishing the same for you before walking out of the café. A happy sigh escaped his lips—the sun was kissing the highest points of his face, a new feeling during this gloomy month, it seemed such a perfect day to meet such a perfect girl, he thought.

That is until he glanced at his wristwatch, remembering why he was at the café in the first place before his heart dropped to his feet, and they hurriedly carried him to the class he was already running late to.

Pushing the door to class, he peeked his head through the small gap, relieved to see the professor’s table empty and quickly rushed in, finding his seat between Seungkwan and Vernon—the former glaring at him for taking a long time to bring him his iced americano. “What took you so long?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologized, placing the drinks in front of his friends. “Where’s the professor?”

“At the bathroom, you’re lucky,” Vernon chirped, thanking quietly for the drink. “How come it took you so long?”

“Well, besides getting your coffees, I had already woken up later than usual,” he complained, “there was also a line in the café—not that long, but I was already running late and you guys told me to go buy coffee, which added on to the fact I was running late, making me even more late—”

“Still, it doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes,” Seungkwan cut him off, causing Chan to glare at him.

Then he remembered you, a dazed smile appearing on his face. His thoughts became flooded by you, your pretty name, your pretty voice, your pretty face, your pretty everything. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you were an angel sent to make him fall in love with you.

“What’s with that face—oh my God, stop that, it’s actually creepy,” Seungkwan cringed, covering his eyes.

“Do you guys know Y/N? She’s the barista at Seventeen Café,” Chan asked, looking hopeful between his two friends.

“I know of her,” Seungkwan states, sipping his coffee. “Is that why you were taking so long? Busy drooling over her?”

“I wasn't drooling over—” Chan's attempt at defending himself were cut short when the professor returned from the bathroom, an look of exasperation written all over his face.

“My apologies class, I might have gotten food poisoning so the class is dismissed for the rest of today, see you next—” Poor man wasn't able to finish his sentence before hurling in the nearest trash can.

“Sucks for Professor Jang, but great for us… I guess,” Seungkwan says out loud, earning agreeable nods from both Chan and Vernon. “What do we do now?”

As the three approach the entrance of the college building, Chan's eyes immediately lock towards the small coffee shop right across from campus, the tense of shoulders noticeable by his two friends.

“We're not going—”

“Why not?” He couldn't help but whine, “I really want to get to know her, she seems really cool.”

“And you want us to be there to witness you failing completely?”

“Come on, Kwan, cut the guy some slack,” Vernon chimes in, “who knows? He might actually know how to flirt with a girl.”

“So, you come here often?” Your eyes glanced at Chan's two friends; one pursing his lips to hold in his laugh, as the other audibly smacks his forehead, the slap echoing throughout the fairly empty café interior.

You stood by their table, grasping onto the note and pen, eyes darting around the place before answering, “Well, considering I work here, yes.”

You could see the firsthand embarrassment register into him, his jaw stiffening before he rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“I'm so sorry,” one of his friends, the blonde one sipping an iced americano, interjected, “we'll have two slices of carrot cake and a tiramisu.”

“Sure, I'll be right back.” You really wished you weren't. After placing their orders on the table, you quickly ducked your head, seeking refuge in the back room for staff only, finding your senior and former trainer, Joshua, chewing on a chocolate chip cookie.

“Why do you look distressed?”

“There's another one of those guys out there.”

“Those guys?” Joshua repeated, eyebrows knitting together before they rose in realization. “Oh, the ones that are trying to get your number?”

You frowned, nodding and sunk to the floor beside your senior, extending your hand for half of his cookie. He split it in half, placing it on your hand and chuckled as you stuffed the entire thing in your mouth. “But this one, he's so awkward.”

“Aren't they all?”

“I mean, yeah—”

“Stop talking with your mouth full,” Joshua scolded, and you closed your mouth, chewing and swallowing the cookie crumbs. “Who is it, anyway? Do you know them?”

You shook your head. “His name is Chan.”

“Which Chan? Bang Chan, Lee Chan, Heo Chan?” You shrugged. Joshua then stood up, peeking his head through the door to catch a glimpse of who you were talking about. “The only Chan I see out there is Lee Chan—he's great, Y/N.”

“You say that to every guy.”

“Because they are,” Joshua emphasizes, “they're great until they don't pass your test.”

You only rolled your eyes, your mouth craving for more sugary goods.

“Have you put him through your test?” Joshua asked, returning to his initial position.

You shook your head, “It was too awkward already, and his friends are there, and he asked me do I come here often—here as in the place I work in, like of course I do, dude.”

Laughter echoed throughout the staff room, Joshua's head thrown back from hearing the little anecdote about your new admirer. Being your co-worker for the past year, he's the first guy you go to after one of those guys attempt to make a move on you. He's the first to advise to give them a chance, but also the first guy you gloat to when none of the guys pass your test.

“Go give it try, Y/N, what is he, the third guy now?” You nod. “You know what they say, third times the charm.”

“I don't think I have much luck with men, Josh,” you admitted, pouting bitterly. Your senior only rolled his eyes, shoving you gently towards the door. Begrudgingly, you stood up, headed towards the door, but turned, “If it doesn't work out, then you need to stop encouraging me to give these guys a chance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You couldn't help but flip him off, eliciting more laughter. Your eyes darted to where Chan and his friends were sitting, their plates of cake already empty and you weren’t sure as to why they were still even here.

From where you stood, you cocked your head to the side, thinking, if Chan doesn’t say dumb things, he’s actually pretty cute. The way his eyes closed as he smiled widely, a smile you found contagious as one appeared on your face as well.

Obviously you hoped at least one guy would pass your test, it wasn’t that hard of a test—at least, you thought so.

“Hey, I wanted to pay for the cakes.” You looked up from where you stood behind the counter, Chan standing in front of you and it seemed he had a bit more confidence than he did when you first saw him earlier, and twenty minutes ago.

“Sure, let me just ring you up.”

“Y/N, was it?” You glanced up at him and nodded. “I was wondering if you wanted to join my friends and I, we’re planning to watch that new Avatar movie in theatres tonight.”

Oh, no asking for my number… That’s new.

But still, you had to put him to the test. “Oh, I already watched that movie with my boyfriend.” The thing is, you didn’t have a boyfriend. This was step one to your three step test, and every other guy before had messed up right here.

Chan looked visibly shocked, although you never knew that was more disappointed in himself—of course you’d already have a boyfriend. It was too good to be true.

“Oh… is it good?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” you responded, using the most basic adjectives because you did not, in fact, watch it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go—Chan was supposed to look annoyed, angry at you for leading him on, despite the fact that you had a boyfriend. He wasn’t supposed to keep a normal person-to-person conversation with once he knew you weren’t available.

Then, what surprised you most was what came out of your mouth afterwards. “Is it okay if I come along?”

Chan's eyes widened, before he nodded, “Sure, is that okay with you?”

Next step. A dry chuckle escaped your lips as you asked snidely, “Don't you mean is it okay with my boyfriend?”

Chan looked genuinely in thought before shaking his head. “No, I mean, you're grown adult—I'm sure you're able to make your own decisions.”

Odd. You always found that guys were immediate to step back when you state that you had a boyfriend, rather than you were purely not interested. It seemed that a lot of guys respect the boyfriend rather than the girl they bothered.

“I mean, if I'm coming off a bit too forward with the invitation and it might stir trouble in your relationship, I also understand if you're not okay with it,” Chan added, and you nodded.

“No, it's fine, Chan.”

His eyes widened completely, shocked. “You know my name?”

You laughed, nodding, “I took your order, remember?”

Red began to dot his cheeks as he realized, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh yeah…” Seeing his flustered self, you were glad he was still somewhat embarrassing.

“Can I ask, Chan?” Final step. He nodded, not trusting his mouth. “If I didn't mention my boyfriend, would you still want to hang out with me?”

Without hesitation, he nodded. “Of course—I mean, sure you're really pretty, but you seem really cool and I'd like to get to know you, you know? I don't know—” he shrugged, “—I never wanted to jump into a relationship, I'm sorry if it came off as if I was too forward, really, Y/N. But I do want us to get to know each other as friends, I feel like we'd click a lot.”

A smile etched across your features, eyes creasing at the edge as you reached for your notepad, jotting down your number before ripping the sheet and handing it to him. “Just text me, and I'll meet you at the theatre.”

His eyes glazed over your number, a genuine smile appearing on his lip before he reassures you that he will, and you excuse yourself to head to the back.

You push the door open, stepping in and quickly pressing your back against the door. Joshua watches you intently, before asking, “So, did he pass the test?”

You nodded, still a bit dazed by the interaction. “Yeah, he did… With flying colors.”

Joshua smirked, stuffing his umpteenth cookie into his mouth. “Told you third times the charm.”

193 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Text

stuck with me ⁠— c. vernon

pairing: non-idol! vernon x f! reader

word count: 4,071

genre: fluff, slight crack, friends to lovers

warnings: reader is attracted gag men (note: men that are not vernon (or any one from seventeen) uwu ilysm my bbys<3), curse words (shit)

author's notes: some childhood fluff for y'all and thank you for 300 followers btw it's long overdue <3

You might be wondering how your childhood best friend and neighbor, Vernon, ended up right beside you—although it should be added that you were inside the warm restaurant, waiting for your date to return from the bathroom, and Vernon was hidden behind the bush outside of the restaurant, a pane of glass separating you both.

Well, it began on Wednesday afternoon when you were finishing up classes for the day and the guy you were talking to for the past couple of weeks had approached you outside of your class. Looking past Youngwoo’s shoulder, you spotted Vernon at the end of the corridor, watching your exchange with your “crush” with raised eyebrows. You promised Vernon you would head home with him, so he must’ve been waiting for you before Youngwoo came.

“Hey, Y/N,” Youngwoo greeted, earning your attention and you smiled, greeting back. “Just finished class?”

You nodded, “Yeah, are you headed to class?”

“No, I have a meeting for an event,” he explained, and you nodded. “I was just heading there, and I saw you come out of class… I wanted to save this conversation when I had more time, but I’m not sure when that’ll be.”

“What is it?” You honestly grew to like Youngwoo during the past few weeks of talking and texting. You had met him when you were a liaison officer for a campus event, where he was logistics, and things clicked. He’s sweet, and your conversations could last for hours into the night. On campus, he’s well-known, too, as a hard-working student, and oddly enough, his car. A black 2022 BMW X6 (you know this because it has come up in conversations a few times). His car reflected his wealth, and although you’d like to think you weren’t shallow, as a burn-out architecture student that requires a lot of supplies, some financial stability wouldn’t hurt.

“Are you free Friday night?” Oh my God, he’s finally asking you out on a date.

“I think so, why?”

His grin only grew. “I found this cool new restaurant uptown, and I wanted ask you if you were interested to join me for dinner there.”

Your cheeks immediately blushed at his invite, nodding almost a second too fast. “I’d love to!”

“Great! I’ll send you the address of the place and we can meet there.”

… What? He wasn’t going to offer to pick you up? Stunned, you could only muster an unsure nod and awkward smile before he ruffles your hair and heads towards where his meeting is. Still stunned, Vernon approached you with a look of suspicion—an eyebrow raised pointedly at you, before asking, “Who was that?”

“Young… Woo…”

“Youngwoo?” You nodded slowly. “What did he want from you?”

“He… he wanted to ask me out on a date,” you responded, a forced smile etched around your lips. You watched as Vernon’s raised brow lowers and a crease appears between them. His hazel eyes glanced back to where Youngwoo had disappeared before shifting back to yours, trying to find any indication that you were joking.

“And you said yes?” You only nodded. Vernon shifts on his other leg, adjusting the strap of his bag as he continues to eye you. “Where’s he taking you?”

See? Even Vernon believes that Youngwoo will pick me up, you bitterly thought. You couldn’t tell Vernon that Youngwoo is someone you, to some extent, were interested in. Especially the fact that Youngwoo had asked that you two meet at the restaurant instead of him picking you up.

Maybe he doesn’t want you contaminating his car? That would be so rude if that was the case.

Still waiting for you response, your grin only widened before you teasingly wagged your finger in his face. “None of your business.”

Other than the embarrassing aspect of the invite, you didn’t want Vernon to know about the guys you were interested in, or had a crush on. You’ve known him practically all your life, and in some shape or form, Vernon mimics an overbearing, older brother than when seeing you be in close proximity with anyone of the opposite gender, he’d go haywire.

Why? Because he’s that annoying.

And Vernon, of course, knew that.

Not the annoying part, he likes to believe that he’s protective over you. Granted, you somehow always attracted the weirdest men to enter your life (not him included, obviously). Vernon knew you were withholding information regarding your date, with how jumpy you were the entire ride back home, and how you were quick to end interactions with him, quickly running off into your house and leaving him in the car.

He was well aware that he… had an interesting way of dealing with the guys that were interested in you. Whether it be blackmailing them with embarrassing anecdotes that he somehow found, or gently telling to back off. He never wanted you to experience heartbreak by a man, let alone a loser. And again, most of the guys you met were either weird or a loser.

However, he didn’t know anything about this Youngwoo guy, and it bothered him.

Luckily for your neighbour, he had his sources.

“Chan, give me info about a guy named Youngwoo.”

Chan could only sigh. He’s at it again, your honor, Chan couldn’t help but think. “You need to specific.”

“I only know his name is Youngwoo.”

“Is he another guy interested with Y/N?” Vernon nodded. “Oh, it must be Jung Youngwoo, then.”

“Who?”

“Our senior, active in his major’s association, and he owns a BMW,” Chan explains, pulling out his phone as he searched for the person of interest’s Instagram account, handing it to Vernon who scrolled through the guy’s feed. “He pays the security at the parking lot to make sure he gets the best spot, under the trees but far from any birds to shit on his car.”

“Anything else?”

“He’s super rich, like, son of CEO rich—he’s taking International Business, so he can continue his dad’s business.”

“Anything weird?”

Chan looked up thoughtfully, tapping his chin before shaking his head, “Probably just his borderline obsession with his car. My sources say his car is the only thing he bought with his own money.”

“Your sources?” Vernon stared at his friend skeptically.

Chan rolled his eyes, admitting, “I follow his Twitter, it’s his pinned post.”

Vernon returned Chan’s phone. “Y/N is apparently going on a date with him tonight, but she won’t tell me where.”

“Aw, are you sad that you can’t come with?” Chan teased, feigning a look of sympathy with his bottom lip jutted out in a pout. Vernon only glared at him. “So, what? Y/N’s an adult, I’m sure she can handle things herself.”

“Nah, I feel like there’s something she’s not telling me,” Vernon stated, shaking his head slightly. “Besides where they’re going.”

Chan chuckled, uttering a suggestion he never thought he’d regret in hindsight. “Maybe you should follow her and spy on them.” Despite Chan’s joking tone, Vernon stared at him, an expression over his face that seemed that he was actually considering it, driving Chan to silence. “I was joking.”

“Yeah,” Vernon uttered unconvincingly, “I know.”

No, he didn’t.

Later that evening, Vernon had watched you from his bedroom window as you climbed into a car that parked itself in front of your driveway. That’s rude, he thought. If Youngwoo truly was interested in you, wouldn’t have the common decency of introducing himself to your parents? And why is it that you entered his car, and not him accompanying you from your front door—

Wait. Vernon stood from where he was crouched, squinting his eyes as if that would make his vision better as he observed the car. Silver Toyota sedan. He thought back to when Chan showed him Youngwoo’s Instagram, and remembered a concerning amount of posts he had with only his car, and could specifically remember Chan stating that the guy had a BMW, and not a Toyota.

Then he saw it. An Uber sticker.

Unless Youngwoo is damn bored that he decided to work part-time as an uber driver, Vernon was sure that he did not pick you up.

Maybe you should follow her and spy on them, Chan’s words echoed throughout his head, and with the known fact that you weren’t picked up by your date, and instead, made to meet him at the restaurant, Vernon felt that he had no other choice but to do as Chan said.

And drag Chan along the way because he didn’t want to vent to no one.

“Can you believe it? The guy is rich, owns a BMW and doesn’t have the common decency of picking her up!” Vernon gripped the steering wheel in anger until his knuckles turned white. “Don’t lose sight of the car, Chan.” Vernon reached over to smack Chan’s arm, causing his friend to stir as he was about to fall asleep.

“I was joking about following them, dude,” Chan complained, glaring at him as he crossed his arms over his chest. “And why are you dragging me into this? I had things to do.”

Vernon glanced over, eyeing him from head to toe. “What things acquire you to wear Power Rangers pajamas?”

“Important Friday night things,” Chan sneered, causing Vernon to chuckle. “Just admit you’re jealous, dude.”

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Because each guy that takes an interest in Y/N, is another missed opportunity for you to ask her out.” Chan was grateful that they were at a red light or else Vernon would’ve swerved them off the highway from hearing that statement. Vernon didn’t directly acknowledge his friend’s claim, too focused on the silver sedan that was going further and further as they were stuck at the traffic light. Thus, Chan continued. “You’ve been in denial this entire time, and the only way that you can compromise with your feelings for Y/N is by pushing away every single guy that tries to get with her.”

“It’s for good reason, the guys that try to get with Y/N are weird.” Then he remembered Youngwoo. “And rude. She deserves better.”

“And you think that’s you, don’t you?” If Vernon wasn’t so dead set on following you, he might even push Chan out of the car from how much gibberish he’s speaking. “They took a left, I think it’s that— holy shit.”

Both Vernon and Chan stare in awe as they come closer to a luxurious restaurant, floor-to-ceiling glass panes surrounding the entire building, and everyone that goes in and out of the restaurant are clad in luxury brands, as if eating there would raise their social status. Vernon chose to park across the restaurant, camouflaged with other cars as the two of them watch you step out of the car in a black dress you wore at your junior prom—the only prom that Vernon was your date to throughout your friendship.

Fine, I am jealous, Vernon internally admitted, not wanting to utter the words out loud or else Chan would never let it go. Your long term friendship with Vernon was enough for feelings to emerge, and Vernon knew that, but always believed that he loved you platonically, and the anger he felt when seeing you with other guys was because he was protective over you. Whenever the consideration of it being jealousy came up in his thoughts, he’d always dismiss it. He felt he couldn’t like you, there would be too much at stake—your friendship, primarily.

Hell, he wasn’t even sure you would feel the same way. You never showcased any emotions that proved you’d possibly have romantic feelings towards him, and he didn’t want to make sure of it. In fear that things would get awkward, and you’d both eventually stray away from one another.

But seeing you in the same dress that accompanied him at junior prom, being the same dress you’re wearing on a date with another guy made Vernon want to not care about risking everything.

“You sneak in the right, I’ll go to the left, text me if you spot them,” Vernon ordered Chan, before crouching and surveying the place, trying to find a place to hide and watch over you without you knowing.

Upon spotting a thick bush, Vernon grinned widely, carefully sneaking in and squeezing through the thick leaves as he settled close to the window, eyes darting throughout the restaurant trying to spot you and your date. He glanced up to find Chan in the same position across from him on the other side, the latter signaling with his hands towards Vernon’s direction where a table was pressed against the glass pane, and you, seated at said table.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Youngwoo excuses himself, “the garlic bread had too much gluten in it.” Mustering a giggle, you nodded and watched Youngwoo stand from his seat, heading towards the bathroom. As your eyes looked around the restaurant, an interesting sight of someone familiar hidden within the bushels outside of the restaurant caught your attention, and you could see Chan visibly panic as the two of you make eye contact.

“What are you doing?” You mouthed, and although there was significant distance between the two of you, with the help of your contacts, you swear you saw Chan’s eyes dart past you, prompting you to turn your head and almost let out a scream when you saw Vernon’s face right next to yours.

“What are you doing?” You mouthed again, but this time, your teeth were clenched and your eyebrows were furrowed in anger.

Vernon smiled innocently, “What’s up?” You could only roll your eyes as you let out a frustrated sigh then glanced to the bathroom. There was no sign that Youngwoo was leaving the bathroom yet, and upon realization, a light bulb lit in your head and you quickly grabbed your purse, standing from your seat and heading out to where Vernon was.

Your best friend watched in a panic as you stood up, quick strides leading you towards him, and he was fully prepared on you slapping him, or scolding him for being childish and following you to your date, but what came out of your mouth surprised him completely.

“Help me, Vernon, I want to go home.”

“What, why?”

You didn’t answer immediately, turning your head to look inside the restaurant and spotted Youngwoo leaving the men’s bathroom, before striking up a conversation with a waitress. You quickly grabbed onto Vernon’s sleeve, tugging him, “Quick, we don’t have time! You brought your car, right?” Vernon nodded. “Please, hurry, before he sees.”

Unsure as to what warranted you to become this adamant on leaving, but seeing the clear distress on your face, he didn’t bother trying to ask anymore questions, and the two of you quickly rushed over to where his car park, climbing in and driving off, at least, to put distance between you and Youngwoo.

He watched as you glanced back to the direction of the restaurant, falling back into your seat as you sighed in relief. “Do you want McDonald’s?”

“What?” Too focused on getting away, you didn’t hear him.

“McDonald’s? Considering you were only there for fifteen minutes, so I don’t know if you ate anything,” he explained, and you smiled, nodding.

“I’d like that, Vernon.”

It was a comical sight for other customers coming to the fast food restaurant, finding you in your dress, and Vernon dressed in sweats and a plain t-shirt, sitting across from one another with a burger and fries in front of you. You felt that you needed to be embarrassed, but you were more embarrassed with sitting in front of Youngwoo at the restaurant, rather than with Vernon.

“Slow down, Y/N, you’re going to choke.”

“I only got a slice of bread and an iced tea in before Youngwoo had to go to the bathroom,” you complained, taking a sip of your soda.

“Are you okay, though? You were in a panic when we wanted to leave,” Vernon pointed out.

“Well, yeah, I didn’t want Youngwoo to see his date leave him behind,” you exclaimed, “but I seriously could not sit there for any longer.”

Vernon’s brows knitted together, “What did he do?”

“More like what he didn’t do,” you grumbled with a sneer, rolling your eyes. “If you did follow me, then you must have seen that I was in a different car, right?”

“An uber.”

“How did you know?” You asked genuinely surprised. Prior to your disaster of a date, you thought Vernon would call you or text you, asking who’s car you’re in because everyone on campus knows Youngwoo doesn’t own a regular Toyota sedan. He holds his pride for his car on his cheek, like an emblem of his hard work. So, you prepared an inner monologue that you’d lie to Vernon, saying that Youngwoo didn’t want to dirty his car or something, that’s why he’s borrowing another car.

Which, in retrospect, sounds just as rude as him not picking you up entirely.

But, unless Vernon was in close proximity with you and heard the uber driver call for you, then he wouldn’t have known you called for a ride.

“There was a sticker on the back.”

Well.

“He didn’t pick you up, Y/N?” You pouted, shaking her head no. “Douche.”

“It’s not just that, though,” you began, “I mean, sure, it’s rude for him to not offer to pick me up—like, he seriously didn’t offer when he asked me, he just immediately said he’ll send the location and we can meet there, can you believe it?”

“Why did you still go?”

“Well… because I thought it’d still go great,” you mumbled honestly, “I was wrong, obviously.” There was a moment of silence before you looked up, brows pulled together in confusion. "Why were there in the first place?"

Vernon visibly looked guilty, eyes darting to the sides to avoid your sharp gaze as he rose his shoulders, answering non-chalantly. "I just wanted to be there for you."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, stating, "I get we've been together since we were in diapers, but we don't have to always be together." He only chuckled as a response.

“Why did you want to leave early, Y/N?”

You glanced up at him, the events of the date reoccurring in your head and your face immediately cringed at the memory, the sudden urge to cry. “God, why do I always the worst guys?” You cried out loud as you hid your face in your arms, causing a few people around the two of you to glance over in worry, Vernon looking visibly panicked.

“What’s wrong?”

“’What’s wrong?’” You repeated, flabbergasted. “His obsession with his car is what’s wrong, Vernon.”

Vernon stayed quiet as you went on a full-blown rant about what took place during your date, your hands going all over the place in grand gestures, and your eyes popping out of your head. “I get it when people care a lot about their car, you know? Like, maintenance and all of that, making sure it doesn’t break down in the middle of the road. Youngwoo also told me that his car was the first thing he bought with his own money, and that, I admit, is quite admirable.”

“It also might indicate he’s responsible.”

“Yes, I also thought that, too,” you agreed, a shiver running up your spine as you thought of the reason why you didn’t want to sit through the whole date. “Do you have a name for your car?”

“Not really, because its not mine?” Vernon answers. “But, I usually just call it by its brand name, you know?”

He then rose his eyebrow towards you. “Why? Did he name his car?”

You grimaced, nodding. “He named it Beatrix—with an ‘x’.” Vernon couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head, but you weren’t done. “Not just that, though.” He watched as you glanced around and leaned forward, cupping your mouth so he would be the only one to hear it.

“He kisses his car goodnight.”

Lucky for Vernon to not have been drinking or else his drink would’ve been spit out, and he’d cause a huge mess because the new information you gave him caused him to explode into laughter, other patrons glaring at him for the sudden ruckus, and you looked around apologetically. “Be quiet!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, that’s just hilarious to me.” You glared at him, tossing a fry into your mouth. Once he cooled down, he stated, “Well, at least now you don’t have to worry about a second date.”

Your shoulders immediately dropped with that reality check, clearly disheartened. “When will I have a chance at a second date at all, then?”

Vernon regretted his words in an instant upon seeing your saddened features. “Hey, come on. I’ll drive us home.”

Twenty minutes of silence, you both arrived at your driveway, but you didn’t make a move to leave the car and head into your room to wallow in self-pity. There was a few minutes of unmoving silence between the two of you, before you sighed, uttering, “I guess I have to come to terms with the fact that I will never be loved by anyone.”

A look of genuine offence appeared on Vernon’s face as he stated matter-of-factly, “I love you, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not romantically.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“No, you don’t—” You froze, eyes widening as you turned to him. “What?”

Vernon shrugged, as if what he said did not sound like a confession to him, that you should’ve known all along that he’s always loved you. You knew he did, you always thought he loved you platonically though.

“Of course I’ve always loved you, Y/N. You’re my best friend, you’ve been there with me through thick and thin,” he explains, “whether my feelings towards are purely platonic or romantic, even I’m unsure of, but I know that you’re the only person I can picture being a constant presence in my life.”

“Yeah, we’ve been together for a long time, huh?” You couldn’t deny that fact. The two of you are practically joint at the hip.

“And plus, our families already know each other, we’ve gone through our awkward phase of puberty together,” he continues, “nothing would really change if you and I were to date.”

“What if it doesn’t work out? I can’t lose you, Vernon.”

He smiles fondly, reaching up to place his hand over your head. “That’s something for us to work out later,” he reassures, before ruffling your hair.

“Can I think about it?”

Vernon nodded. “Of course, whatever your answer is it won’t change anything, Y/N, I can assure you that because whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

You couldn’t help but snort, “Yeah, unfortunately.”

This time he feigned offence. “How dare you.” You threw your head back in laughter, Vernon’s expression changing to that of relief, glad that he was able to make you laugh.

“Thank you, Vernon. It means a lot.”

“No problem, Y/N, what are friends for.” You reached over the console, pulling him close as you rest your cheek against his shoulder.

A moment after, you furrowed your brows as you pulled away. “Wasn’t Chan at the restaurant as well?”

Vernon’s eyes shifted from confusion to realization, before uttering, “Oh shit—”

“Are you going to eat that?” Chan asked Youngwoo who looked just as unamused by the sudden change of plans for the evening.

“Why are you here?”

Chan merely shrugged, “My existence only mattered when I was needed.” He picked up the roasted brussel sprouts, cringing at the taste. Youngwoo stared at the guy in front of him, before caving in and deciding to eat together anyway because he had already paid for the meal beforehand, might as well not have it go to waste.

“So, can we go on a drive with—”

“Just shut up and eat your food, Chan.”

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #vernon #vernon chwe #chwe hansol #vernon fluff #seventeen vernon #vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #vernon x you #vernon x y/n #vernon x reader #heartsfromia writes

365 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Text

AAK I just noticed, thank you for 1k notes on this. This was one of the more difficult imagines to write cuz I wasn't sure how to approach the plot, but I'm so relieved you guys enjoyed it a lott <333

all thanks to you — y. jeonghan

pairing: non-idol! jeonghan x introvert! reader

word count: 3,746

genre: fluff, workplace romance

warnings: nothing really, it's sickeningly fluffy

author's notes: jeonghan is the clumsy one for once, and the reader just finds it endearing and runs along with his plans :3

Jeonghan has been an employee in the Research and Development division of the Marketing department for almost three years now, it is safe to say that he knows everyone in the Marketing department, from his seniors and superiors, to his juniors and interns.

However, during a company dinner for the Marketing department, he spotted a face that didn't seem familiar to him. You.

When you had arrived at the Korean Barbeque place in downtown, you were accompanied by three other colleagues. The three he recognized as Sowon, Eunha and Eunbi of the Public Relations division, but when your appeared from behind Sowon, his eyebrows furrowed.

Who is that? He thought, assuming you were a newer addition to the team. Jeonghan wasn't necessarily a curious person, and if he met someone new, he wouldn't think too much into it. He already uses up a lot of his brain power in improving the quality of the company's products, along with researching on how to beat competitors in the same field. Having to satisfy his curiosity over someone that he barely knew wasn't his thing.

Despite that, when Sowon seated herself beside him, he couldn't help but lean over and ask, "Who did you come here with?"

Sowon glanced over at him with furrowed brows, before turning to look over the three others that she came with, "Eunha, Eunbi and Y/N."

"Y/N?" She nodded. Your name was foreign to his ears. "New addition?"

Her brows only furrowed deeper, creating a wrinkle in her forehead, as she shook her head. "No, Y/N has been working here for the past year and a half."

Now Jeonghan was really curious. How is it that he's been working in this department, and yet, never seen you. "Really?"

"Yeah," Sowon uttered, taking a bit of kimchi with her chopsticks before eating it.

Jeonghan proceeded to ask, "How come this is the first time I'm hearing of "Y/N"." He uttered your name as if you were some mythical creature, only being spotted after years of mere folklores.

"Because they don't join these dinners often, I had to drag them for this one," she explained, "and they don't try to stand out—they prefer to just work behind the scenes." He understood now, nodding with parted lips. His eyes glanced past the girl beside him, to where you were seated. You weren't engaging with those around you, however, your eyes watched those talking, listening intently with no intention to join in the conversation.

He could tell your social battery was running out fast, with how your eyes would droop slowly as you tried to keep up with the topic of discussion, and how you'd occasionally purse your lips, as if holding back a yawn.

It has just been forty-five minutes since you've arrived, and you already want to go home.

As you listened to the hearty laughter of your superior as he retold the story of how he almost got the company's director to fall in a puddle of wet cement, you could feel another yawn rise up your throat and tried to clench your teeth to suppress it.

You didn't hate going to company dinners, you just hated going to the dinners where the entire department is invited. You didn't mind when it was only the Public Relations division, as it was a team of less than ten people, and most of them, you were close with, so you don't tire out too quickly. However, tonight was for the Marketing department, including the five divisions under said-department, which consisted of over thirty people cramped up in a local Korean Barbeque restaurant.

To make matters worse, you didn't arrive alone and Sowon had offered to drive you all the way to your apartment, an offer you couldn't deny because you'd be too exhausted to take the bus anyway.

You knew you couldn't find a way out because Mr. Jung, your superior, would notice your absence. All you had to do was hold on and not yawn for another hour or two, however long the middle-aged man can handle is alcohol at least.

"Hey, Y/N." You turned your head to Eunbi, who was beside you, her eyes filled with concern. She was one of the few that can tell when you were beginning to feel drained. "Do you want to step out for some fresh air with me?" You almost cried out in relief, nodding wordlessly as she excused you both to Mr. Jung. Luckily for you, he was beginning to get a little too drunk to pay any mind and waved you guys off.

As you walked towards the exit of the restaurant, you'd pass the free refill table, where Jeonghan was refilling his strawberry juice from the dispensers, only to turn right when you were walking past him, the two of you colliding and cold liquid spilling over your shirt.

"Oh my go—" Jeonghan gasped in surprise, quicky turning to grab the tissues provided, apologies spilling past his lips just as past as the red juice was sinking into the fabric of your white shirt. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine," you uttered, but since you hadn't spoken much since the night started, your voice came out barely above a whisper.

"Jeonghan, what the hell?" Eunbi yelled, garnering the attention of others to your exchange, and your cheeks turned as red as your once-white, now stained shirt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see!"

"It's fine," you try to say louder, but both individuals near your were in a panic, your presence only visible as a victim from the collision.

"Come, let's go to the bathroom, Y/N." Eunbi quickly linked your arms, dragging you to the rest rooms, leaving Jeonghan to stare at the two of you in guilt, the tissue in his hands unused because wasn't sure if he was allowed to clean you up.

"For once, it's not me." Jeonghan's head snapped to the six-foot junior, Mingyu, who approached him, a satisfied grin on his face that dropped the moment he saw his senior throwing daggers at him. "Too soon?"

Jeonghan could only muster a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced up at the direction to where you rushed off to, the guilt settling deep.

"Are you okay?" Eunbi asked for the sixth time since you entered the bathroom, and you'd always nod, followed by a soft, "yes."

"You should ask him to pay your dry cleaning, Y/N, strawberry stains are stubborn."

"It's fine, Eunbi, really," you tried to reassure her, but you knew it wasn't your co-worker you needed to reassure. You couldn't get rid of the complete look of defeat in Jeonghan's eyes as he stood there, unsure on whether to help wipe off the juice from your shirt or not. He didn't want to touch you without your permission, but he also didn't want you to suffer from the sticky residue of the fruity drink.

"Do you want me to take you home? I'll borrow Sowon's car, and I can drop you off," she offers, and you smile, nodding, liking the idea to finally escape an exhausting night.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, was hoping to apologize properly when you got out of the bathroom. He stood up as he saw your figure exit the restroom, but paused as he watched you and Eunbi approach your superior, whispering. A firm nod and pat on your shoulder was enough to tell him that you weren't staying any longer, and he slumped back into his seat as you exited the building with your colleague.

"You can apologize to her next week," Sowon reassured him, taking a sip of her craft beer, "her cubicle is besides mine, and I'm confident she'll be there whenever you want to talk to her during work hours."

Sowon's were etched throughout his head as the weekend passed; he'd remind himself on what to do, but wondered: why did he feel so guilty over what happened to you? Granted, he should be because the drink had left a stubborn stain, and even after dry cleaning it, there was a faint pink outline you could make out if you looked closely. However, it wasn't his fault. He didn't see you, you didn't think he'd turn at that exact moment, and he had already apologized. You already forgave him the same night.

But why was the guilt gnawing at him like a hungry rat against a piece of plywood. Was it because he already felt bad for you on the get-go? When he saw you were having a hard time socializing when the dinner started? Or was it because he felt that the incident had worsened your night, adding an extra chore for you to deal with?

Whatever the reason behind the long-lasting guilt was beyond him, and all he wanted to was let it rest by apologizing to you properly.

Jeonghan sought out the Public Relations division, a floor below his, and stood by the door frame, his eyes scanning the area to find Sowon. And where he finds Sowon, he will find you.

Finding his same-age friend, he walked towards her desk, nodding at those passed him before he stood on his toes to see if you were, as Sowon had said, by your desk.

You were, much to his relief; head down, eyes locked on the screen of your computer, and occasionally glancing at the printed out report by your keyboard.

Sowon noticed his presence, nodding towards the clueless you, and he sent her a close-lipped smile before approaching your desk. He didn't want to startle you, since you were so focused, so he gently knocked on the wooden partition wall of your cubicle.

Despite not wanting to startle you, you still jumped from the sudden noise, not expecting anyone to approach you. You locked eyes with Jeonghan, briefly confused as to why he was here, but then realized; Sowon had given you a head's up when you clocked in this morning.

"Hi… Y/N?" Jeonghan greeted, an unsure tone when he said your name, as if he was testing it, making sure he was talking to the same person he bumped to a couple nights ago.

You nodded, "Yes, how can I help you?"

Jeonghan glanced around the office, seeing how everyone seemed busy with their own things, but that does not erase the probability of them eavesdropping. "Is it okay if we talk out in the hallway?"

You looked over at Sowon, as if asking for guidance, and she subtly nodded, an assuring smile on her face. Looking back at Jeonghan, with a stiff smile, you nodded and followed him out in the hallway. With only a step out of the office, you stopped and Jeonghan turned to face you.

"I'm sorry for what happened Friday night, Y/N," he began, brows stitched together, genuine remorse in his eyes and you were taken aback. This was what he wanted to talk to you about? "I'll pay for your dry cleaning."

It took you a second to find your voice. "N-no, it's okay, Jeonghan, it wasn't your fault. It was just bad timing, is all."

"I know, but I still feel really bad over what happened."

"You don't need to," you tried to assure him, but his guilty expression only deepened. You sighed, "You won't give up until you appease your guilty conscience, huh?"

Jeonghan couldn't help the grin that appeared, nodding meekly.

You shrug, feeling bad yourself. "I'm not sure how I can help you with that."

Placing his hands on his waist, shifting his weight, he looked around in thought, trying to think of a way to pay you back, and, as you said, appease his guilty conscience. As if a lightbuld lit up atop his head, he snapped his head towards you with wide eyes, "What about I treat you to lunch? Today?"

"Today?" You repeated, and he nodded. You didn't know how to deny him; you're not one to eat lunch outside of the office, in fear that your boss would suddenly drop work in your cubicle. Also, you usually ate lunch with your colleagues.

Jeonghan could tell you wanted to decline his offer. "Or, tomorrow? Whenever you like really, Y/N."

A huge part of you wanted to decline his offer, and try to convince he doesn't have to go through so many lengths in order to appease the guilt he feels over something that was (to you) miniscule. But, upon seeing the sincerity in his eyes, this seemed like an offer you can't miss out on.

With a small nod, you uttered, "Sure, Jeonghan, tomorrow afternoon is alright."

Thus, you found yourself seated across from him in a cafe across from the office. He offered whether you wanted to eat something heavy and filling, or light, and you preferred the lighter meal, you had snacked on a few things earlier because work was slower than usual.

"Can I ask?" The two of you had talked a bit about work, mostly Jeonghan asking about you since he hadn't seen you prior to the dinner last week. It was silent between the two of you for a minute until Jeonghan asked. You nodded, taking a sip of your matcha latte.

"Are you an introvert?"

You blinked a few times, slightly taken aback, but nodded, "It's a bit obvious, no?" He nodded in agreement. "Why do you ask?"

He only shrugged. "Do you not usually join the company outings?"

You shook your head no. "I join a few, mainly those that involve only the PR team, but last week was because Sowon wanted me to come, and also Mr. Jung pointed out that I should be there, and so, it felt like I had no choice but to show up." Your explanation was followed by a soft chuckle, finding the situation funny.

"So, last week's was the first time you joined that kind of dinner?" You nodded. "Is it the crowd? The reason why you don't join?"

You hummed in response. "There's that. I also just don't necessarily enjoy them…? If that makes sense, I don't know everyone in the company, nor do I follow along with the latest gossip, so whenever I meet them, I'm mostly lost and just listen—most likely, twenty minutes after I arrive, I already want to leave."

Jeonghan couldn't help but laugh at that, relating to your statement. He was quite the same; if he could get out of company dinners, he would, but there was an element of stress relief during them. The sound of beer glasses clinking together in a cheers, the carefree laughters of his colleagues as they rant and make fun of their higher ups with no care of the consequences. He enjoys them because he enjoys the people he encounters during those dinners. He, once again, felt bad that you couldn't experience the same.

"What do you usually do to relieve stress after a long week of work, Y/N?" He decided to ask, looking over at you pass the rim of his coffee cup.

There, you froze. What do I do? you couldn't help but think to yourself. Ever since joining the company, diving into a new environment and new position, all you ever focused on for the past year and a half was to make sure you were doing a good job. You wouldn't like think of yourself as a workaholic, but you did think you prioritized work over yourself more than you should've.

"I don't really do anything," you stated honestly, "going home helps me relieve stress." Which wasn't entirely a lie, but you just chose to not add the fact that you review a lot of your work once you step into your humble abode.

His lips were pressed a small smile. "Sowon tells me that you're quite the employee." You cock your head to the side, unsure what he meant. "I mean, you're drowning in your work, Y/N."

"You know Sowon?"

He nodded. "She and I were in the same university before we both got hired."

Your lips parted, nodding in understanding, before you acknowledged his previous statement. "It's just… I don't know, I never liked feeling like I wasn't doing anything productive, and anything work related feels productive to me."

"You can feel productive without having it be work related, though," he began, "I've been in your shoes before when I first started here, because I wanted to make sure I was doing the most, so the probability of me being fired was reduced—do you take up offers for extra hours or have trouble saying no when asked for something."

You didn't have to answer, your flustered face was enough to tell him.

"I can assure you that some point, you'll feel immense burn out," he informed, leaning back into his chair, "that's why people talk about a work-life balance."

"Work has always been my life though, Jeonghan," you spoke up, and he waited for your explanation. "I interned when I was in my third year of college, then continued at the same place as a part-time employee while I finished my degree, and became a full-time employee once I graduated.

"After a while, I decided to leave that place and seek out a new environment, and so, I came here. But since it was a new environment and a different position from my previous role, I couldn't risk having this not work out—that's why I take up the offers for overtime or extra work to bring home, but after a while, that became the norm for me and I can't find myself not doing anything work related."

"So… what you're saying is…" He pursed his lips in thought, and then grinned at you. "We should go on a journey to find you a hobby!"

How he twisted your words and reached that conclusion was honestly deserving of an applause, because how that one conversation had led you to an adventure, featuring Jeonghan, in finding you a hobby.

It started with baking. Jeonghan took the initiative in signing the two of you up for these classes, ensuring that the people behind the classes only accept ten to fifteen people each session.

Baking was fine, up until pouring the flour and Jeonghan seemed to be a bit out of focus, and poured the flour while the mixer was still on, causing most of it to go flying. Other than that, you found it difficult because of the numerous things you had to take note of to ensure a successful recipe. The eggs had to room temperature. You had to wait until the mix was fluffy. There was a lot of waiting, and being someone that wanted things to be done quickly, it was taking a toll on you—the waiting game.

So, baking was thrown out the window for potential hobbies.

Next was pottery. Prior to the pottery class, Jeonghan brought you to a new cafe, since he told you that they had great ratings for their matcha latte.

"You like matcha, right?" You nodded. "I thought so since you bought it when we had lunch together." Warmth enveloped your cheeks after his statement, finding it endearing how he remembered.

Despite that, the pottery class didn't provide any possibilities of you taking up the clay-shaping activity as a hobby. Shaping the wet, yet solid mixture was a pain and again, a waiting game. What was supposed to be a mug, came out a distorted bowl with a lopsided handle and you couldn't help but laugh when the instructor handed it to you with a look of pity.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, cringed at the two of yours creation. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, I thought we'd be better at this."

"Me too," you added, chuckling. The two of you climbed into his car, as he promised to drop you off at your place, but when he reached to turn the ignition, you stopped him.

"Is there something wrong?"

You locked eyes with him. "I think we can stop finding me a hobby." The color drained from his face upon hearing it. Did he fail in helping you? Waste your time? Did you feel forced to do so just because you couldn't say no? So many thoughts were running through his head, so many and none of which were good.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll find a hobby at some point of my life, I'm sure, it's just not now," you stated, the corner of your lips tilted up in a small smile, "but thank you, for wanting to help me find one, Jeonghan. I truly appreciate it."

Your statement was that of a goodbye. He knew that after this, you and him might not meet as much as you recently have been, and he didn't want that. He didn't want the two of you to become just co-workers again, or worse, strangers that work in the same building.

"But." He froze.

"But?"

"But is it okay if we keep hanging out?" you asked, and he took note on how your cheeks turned a bright red and your eyes seemed to shimmer more even under the dim lighting of the car in the basement parking lot. "I didn't notice it at first, but Sowon told me that I looked… happier? Yeah, she said that I looked like I was in a better mood than usual after our baking class."

"Really?" The corner of his lips twitched upwards into a smirk.

"It's all thanks to you." If anyone saw the smile that appeared on Jeonghan's face after your statement, people would think he had just won the lottery. He felt like he did.

"I… I think you make me a better person," you say above a whisper, "at least, you make me think there is more to life than working until your retirement."

Jeonghan chuckled, finding your entire being at this very moment endearing. "Sure, Y/N, we can keep hanging out—I like being around you as well."

The two of you mirrored each other's bright smiles, a laugh igniting between you two to fill the silence before Jeonghan turned the ignition and you were both on your way.

"Maybe we could go cafe hopping, and you can accompany me on my journey on finding the best matcha latte," you suggested jokingly, causing Jeonghan to throw his head back in a hearty laugh.

"I'd be honored, Y/N."

#heartsfromia 1k post #to more posts reaching this milestone 🥂

1K notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Note

i really need something like this but with vernon🥹🥹

You're in luck, i have something queued up already w vernon, but I'll keep this in mind since I feel like you guys enjoyed domestic content a lot <33

#heartsfromia ask #domestic svt content indeed >>>>

1 note · View note

heartsfromia · 1 year

Note

can we please get a part 2 of its a deal fic? 🥺

apologies in advance but that wont be happening :( i dont like making a ton of parts for my oneshots/imagines (honestly bcuz idk how to extend it) i hope you guys understand 🙏

#heartsfromia ask #im sorry idk im allergic to writing sequels/pt 2 :"#pls understand n dont ask for part 2s ;___;

0 notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Text

it's a deal — b. seungkwan

pairing: non-idol! seungkwan x reader

word count: 4,409

genre: fluff, high school, rivals to lovers, minor angst

warnings: reader faints

author's notes: they're both high school students in their final year, joining a singing competition.

“And… the four that will be making it to the finals of this year’s Performing Arts Competion; Singing division are… Jang Nayeon, Boo Seungkwan, Lim Soojin, and L/N Y/N.” You had zoned out the rest of what the emcee had explained, your head focused on the second name announced as you turn your head to look at your classmate and rival, Seungkwan, who was smiling gleefully towards the crowd.

Despite the small on your face, it never reached your eyes as panic began overflowing within you. You were to compete against three other amazing singers, however, one of them is your lifelong (if you count the beginning of high school as your life) rival, Boo Seungkwan—a musical prodigy and social butterfly, who, since your freshman year, had competed against you and won since you had met him in at the high school orientation program.

Noticing the daggers you were sending to him, Seungkwan leaned on his side so you could hear what he spoke through his smile, “I hope you’re ready to win runner-up again.”

You had to hold yourself back from stomping his feet right there, in front of the crowd gathered in the assembly hall.

“We’ll see about that,” you responded through gritted teeth, the chuckle that rumbled from beside you only fueled the blood in your system.

Your “friendly” high school rivalry with Seungkwan started off during orientation week, when you both started out high school. The seniors were curious as to who had talents amongst the new students, and your student supervisor, Jun, pushed you to the front because he remembered you singing randomly during group discussions and thought your voice was beautiful. Despite your protest, Jun successfully got you to stand in front of everyone, with five other students, Seungkwan amongst the bunch.

There were two students that showed their talent in dance and rap, and one choosing to do a skit with a few of their friends, leaving both you and Seungkwan with singing. The seniors said it wasn’t a competition, until one of your peers quipped that it should be—it makes up for the lack of drama during this session (whatever that meant, you remember thinking). So, you and Seungkwan were given a few minutes to decide which song you wanted to sing to out best one another, and thus, the impromptu singing competition, and beginning to your rivalry with him.

You had decided to go with a safe choice, something you had practiced in the comfort of your bedroom—Hello by Adele. Whereas, Seungkwan chose a bold choice, an option that showcases his vocal capabilities but also gives him a chance to interact with the crowd, giving him plus points for his charisma—Juice by Lizzo.

Safe to say, you lost.

Did it hurt your ego? Not really, you admitted that he was great and he deserved to win because it was genuinely fun to watch. But did it hurt your pride? Yes, very much. Maybe it was because of the brief validation from your senior, acknowledging that you had talent that gave you a boost in your confidence, but to know that the lack of charisma became your downfall, it did hurt. A bit.

Just enough.

Just enough that when you both joined competitions upon competitions, that the damage to your pride began to pile atop one another. Every single competition that you had joined and Seungkwan did, too, you’d always fall second when it came to being put up against him. Despite the compliments you get from judges, they weren’t enough because at the end of the day, you’d be standing a step shorter below Seungkwan, a silver trophy in your hand as a gold shimmers within his.

You wondered how it felt to hold a gold trophy with your name on it, and you’d look down beside yours to see Seungkwan holding your usual silver trophy.

You were able to achieve it, although, only the first half of that fantasy. The one time you held a gold trophy with your name engraved in the plaque

You were able to achieve it, although, only the first half of that fantasy. The one time you held a gold trophy with your name engraved in the plaque was during sophomore year. Unfortunately, Seungkwan wasn’t able to join that competition because he was busy when another high school had asked him to come to their school festival as a guest star. It wouldn’t have hurt, to be honest, you were finally holding a gold trophy for heaven’s sake. However, when no one came to support you from your school (granted, the sign-up was from your own accord and you didn’t tell anyone besides your vocal coach and Yeri), that was when the realization hit.

It didn’t matter if you won first place in a high school singing competition. It didn’t matter because you didn’t matter—not the way that Seungkwan matters.

You weren’t sociable. You had one friend, Yeri, but she’s your friend from middle school and now goes to a different high school to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to socialize with your school friends because during school, you were focused on studies, and after, you were at the studio, practicing with your vocal coach, Coach Wendy. Even when there were group discussions or assignments, you didn’t engage with them too much, not because you didn’t want to, but because they didn’t. All your classmates are so used to seeing you sitting alone during lunch, or cooped up in the music room, that they barely know anything about you besides the fact that you hate Seungkwan and you love singing.

And no one hates Seungkwan—no one, but you.

“Why do you hate him so much?” Yeri asked you, as she lied on her stomach on top of your bed. You had just finished your usual rant after being announced to enter the finale with Seungkwan—your rant consisting of various curse words, gosh I just want to wipe that stupid, smug look on his face, and repeatedly stating how you were finally going to hold that gold trophy and flaunt it in front of his face. Yeri couldn’t help but mimic your exact words when you weren’t looking.

“I thought we went through this already?”

Yeri rolled her eyes, pushing herself up and hugging your pillow to her chest. “We have, but…” She merely shrugs. “I still don’t get it—it’s not like he pulls stunts and cheats and bribes to get his wins, right?”

She had a point, you were lucky to still have some common sense in you to think that, but not enough to admit it. So, you just utter awkwardly, “We don’t know that.”

“Y/N,” Yeri sighs, before shaking her hand, deciding to drop the conversation since there was no way you’d retake your statements. “Whatever, what song are you going to sing?”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, thinking. Coach Wendy had already provided with a total of five choices, to which you asked for more time and you can weigh in between two options. “I’m still deciding between All I Ask by Adele, and The Power of Love by Celine Dion.” Yeri’s eyes immediately widened when she heard the latter. “What?”

“Celine Dion, she’s hard, no?”

With pursed lips, you nodded. “Kind of… that’s why the safest option is Adele because I’ve already practiced that song so many times.”

“Didn’t you sing that in a different competition?”

You shook your head, “It was during an internal thing—my senior’s festival, I think.”

“Ah…” She nodded in understanding. “But, do you really want to take the safe route? Knowing who your competition is?” Yeri regrets saying that; she knew well enough that her statement was a push against your competitive side, and having known you for over five years, your competitive side was… damaging.

The last time she remembers you being overly competitive was during the last year of middle school, and it was the last time you’d be having a competition between classes. You were so adamant to win, since your class had a history of being last place, but because of that obsession, you almost broke your arm when you lost your momentum and tripped over a hurdle. You managed to get out of there with a sprained wrist and scabs where your hands and knees made contact with the hard ground.

“I’ll… I’ll have to consult it with my coach, though. The competition is next week and I have to submit the song I’m singing by Wednesday.” Safe might be good if your competition wasn't Seungkwan, Y/N.

“I'll be there, by the way,” Yeri spoke up, breaking you away from your thoughts. She then looked conflicted for a second, unsure whether to ask, but decided to ask anyway, “Have you told your parents?”

Your face dropped, a heavy weight pressing against your chest as you allowed yourself to fall back into your bed, besides Yeri. A heavy sigh left your lips, an enough answer to her question.

Your parents weren't exactly supportive of this dream of yours—to be known as an amazing singer, and to hopefully achieve more than winning second place (and one first place) in high school competitions. They believed all your efforts were in vain, and that you should just focus on your studies, enter a prestigious university and a conventional major before obtaining a boring nine-to-five job in some corporate business.

They've never attended any of your competitions, and you know they never will—especially when your parents are the type to think that second place is equivalent to not winning anything at all, that it's first place or nothing.

You remembered showing them your first place trophy after Coach Wendy dropped you off. Any parent would be proud to see their children achieve something, anything really, except your parents. Instead of praise, you were berated. They scolded you for joining something so useless when you could've used your time and effort to get better grades than your B+ average. Despite their protests and being against this dream of yours, you were persistent on proving to them that you deserve to chase this career path. Thus, your obsession with joining competition after competition, in hopes to collect more first places, more recognition to finally get the praise and validation that you deserve.

That's why you hated Seungkwan. He was in the way.

And that is also why you were adamant on singing The Power of Love, despite Coach Wendy's worries that you weren't ready.

“Then make me ready, Coach,” you pleaded, desperation laced around your voice as you locked eyes with your coach, the obvious hesitancy as she stares back at you. “I'm– I'm sure with enough practice, I can perfect the song.”

“It's not about just perfecting the song, Y/N,” she begins, pushing past you towards the piano in the studio. “Besides vocal range, they judge you for your skill to play along with notes without making it sound forced—you can't just sing it note-by-note, but allow things to flow and mesh together to make everything sound natural, as if it's just another song.”

“And you don't think I'm capable of doing that?” You were growing too sensitive. This happens when your competitive juices are above its average level.

“Y/N, that's not what I'm saying—”

“I bet you think Seungkwan could pull this off.” You childishly crossed your arms over your chest, earning an eye roll from your coach.

“First of all, don't cut me off,” she warns, holding up her pointer finger, “and second, Seungkwan is not my student, so I don't know what he's capable of.”

“But you've heard him, you've watched him and I've seen how you look at him when he sings—as if you wished he was your student.” Guilt tripping. Wendy knew that was your tactic in getting what you want, and after the two years she's become your coach, she knew that there was no way of escaping when you get this desperate.

With a heavy sigh, Wendy gives in. “We'll have to spend the next week every day, after school practicing, leading up to the competiton—we’ll practice vocal warm-ups for thirty minutes before running through the song, until our session ends.

“Also, pace yourself, Y/N, this isn't a national competition, you don't need to push yourself over your limit,” she warns, “I want you to do your best, but I don't want you to overdo it—make sure you're healthy on the day of, and I only want you practicing when we're in the studio. Pacing yourself will give you room to adapt, and you won't risk injuring yourself.”

You might've nodded, but you didn't understand—you didn't listen.

Practicing only when you're in the studio? Nope, you practiced in your school's music room and also, at home when you knew your parents were still working.

Pacing yourself? Not that either, you found yourself singing for almost three hours straight trying to get the bridge perfect. You were lucky you didn't lose your voice on the day of the competition.

Healthy on the day of? With a pounding headache from lack of sleep, and only having eaten a slice of bread and a cup of orange juice in the morning (the competition was in the evening), you knew you were screwed.

Thankfully, Coach knew of you didn't like being approached before the competition started, allowing for alone time and to put yourself in the zone.

You couldn't put yourself in the zone because of your sleep deprivation, the zone was your bed and dreamland.

“So, what song did you decide to go with, Y/N?” Great, just what your headache needed—a pain in your ass.

“I'm not in the mood to deal with you, Seungkwan,” you grumbled, grabbing a water bottle provided and downing it. You had approached a committee if they could go buy you a pain killer, or ibuprofen for your headache, and they have yet to come.

A witty response was sitting at the tip of Seungkwan’s tongue, waiting to release but when he caught sight of your eyebags, pale skin and chapped lips, worry took place instead. “Y/N, are you okay?”

With furrowed brows, you faced him, “Why do you care? You're hoping I back out? Forfeit? You wish.”

He raised his arms up in feign surrender. “I just asked what song you decided to sing.”

Again, your suspicions towards him didn't subside. “Why? So, you can steal it from me?”

He couldn't help but laugh at your outrageous claims. “If you didn't notice, it's competition day and the final day for song submission was two days ago, I couldn't even if I wanted.”

“Aha!” You exclaimed, causing him to wince at your sudden yell. “So, you admit, you do have intentions to cheat.”

The look he gave you proved that what you needed right now was sleep because whatever you just said did not make any sense.

“No, Y/N, I don't,” he begins, moving forward to stand beside you to utter something so only you can hear, “Why would I need to cheat at something I'm good at?”

Anger reached the points of your ears and you turned around, finding Seungkwan making small talk with the committee member that you had asked for help. With a tight smile, you took the ibuprofen and headed to the waiting room, downing one with a chug of water.

Unfortunately for you, it barely helped subdue the pounding in your head, and the anger in your veins. Talking to Seungkwan in general was an already bad idea, you weren't sure as to why you still interacted with him. Trying to find a distraction, you headed out to see the audience, finding Yeri and Coach Wendy seated besides each other in the second row, and Yeri spotted you, waving happily at you.

“My parents?” You mouthed towards her and she stood up, looking around the already crowded audience, before sending you a lok of pity, brows furrowed in worry. Despite the bile rising in your throat, you forced a smile and shook your head, trying to reassure her it was alright.

You had sent them an invitation consisting of the finale poster, but there was zero response.

“Y/N? Where's Y/N?” Upon hearing your name, you turned to find the Event Organizer, holding a clipboard with the rundown as he looked around for you.

“That's me.”

“You'll be performing first, alright?” Though your eyes weighed a ton, you tried keeping them open, but because you were so focused on looking like you're awake, you could barely make out the words coming out of the EO’s mouth. “… Be on standby when the speech is being delivered.” What speech? Who's delivering it? Before you could ask again, he was pulled away to deal with a different issue assuming you had gotten everything down.

You didn't, but because you didn't want to risk not being on standby at the right moment, you were already standing close to where you'd head out through from the beginning of the event, until the principal of the school stepped out to deliver the opening speech. You thought for sure, you'd come on after this, but turns out there was a speech from not only the principal, but also the head of the Music department and also the Project Manager for the competition.

You found yourself standing by the entryway towards the stage for almost forty minutes, and when you were about to go sit for a second, the same EO hushed for you to get ready, gesturing that you'll be on after this.

At this point, the headache was causing your vision to blur, and with every step you took, your sight was hazy and a tunnel began to form, slowly inching towards completing blacking out your vision. However, you repeatedly pinched yourself, trying to keep yourself awake as you heard the intro to the song you chose, your stomach grumbling at the same time, indicating your lack of nutritions to keep you up.

You barely got through the first verse before your vision goes completely black, and you found yourself backstage on a blow-up mattress, a piece of warm cloth on your forehead.

Coach Wendy and Yeri were there with you, but only Yeri kneeled besides you, her hand clasped over yours.

“She's awake—Coach, she's awake,” Yeri exclaimed, causing Wendy to approach you with an unreadable look on her face.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?”

“What happened?” Wendy sighed heavily when you ignored her question, turning her back towards you before uttering that she's going to talk with the committee. “Comm– the competition!”

You say up, but Yeri held you back. “Y/N, you fainted—the competition is currently still on break, but it'll proceed with the next contestant in a few minutes.”

“… I fainted?”

“Yeah, do you not—”

She was cut off by the door of the room being pushed open, revealing a distraught Seungwan, worry etched all over his features as he locks eyes with you, observing your situation.

“I knew something was wrong,” he claims, his loud voice causing a stabbing pain to crack through your skull. Realizing his mistake, he winced, genuinely worried.

“The medic said she might've overexerted herself,” he explains to Yeri, who just nodded. Seungkwan’s eyes returned to you, now set in a frown. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“How is that any of your concern?” He couldn't help but scoff, rolling his eyes. Sensing the obvious tension between you two, Yeri stood up, pursing her lips.

“I'm going to the convenience store across here, I'll bring back something for you to eat and drink, alright, Y/N?” Not giving you a chance to protest, she turns and gives Seungkwan a look, as if to tell him to go easy on you, you just fainted, before she slipped out the room.

The heavy air lingered as Seungkwan took a seat on an available chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares– no, glares at you. “So, do you mind explaining how you fainted?”

“I think I lost consciousness,” you deadpanned, causing him to release an annoyed sigh.

His face then contorted to that of disbelief. “Is it really that serious, Y/N? To the point you're willing to put your health at risk? It’s just a high school competition.”

“Maybe to you,” you couldn't help but snap. “Maybe to you it's just a high school competition, that it doesn't matter because this is just another gold trophy to add to your collection, Seungkwan.”

“You've already made it to the final, Y/N, either way, you're leaving with a prize.”

You stared at him as if he grew three heads. “You think I'm doing this for just a prize? No, Seungkwan, I'm doing this for the prize—I'm doing this for first place.”

“Seriously? And you're willing to put yourself at risk for that? For a trophy you can get made?”

You gritted your teeth, feeling your patience reach its limit. “Look, maybe to you it's insignificant, maybe to you that this is just another damn competition to add to your overflowing achievements, but it isn't to me.

“This is my chance to prove a point, that this career path is worth taking all these risks, alright? Because, newsflash! Not everyone has the support system to assure you that you're doing well, that what you're doing is right. So call me shallow for basing my dreams of off high school achievements and validations.

“I don't have anyone—I have my coach and I have Yeri, but even they can't give enough support. You– you have the entire school out there supporting you, not met. You have your parents, you have your friends, and you even have complete strangers out there supporting you, Seungkwan. I don't have that luxury.

“So, yeah, I'd say that putting my health at risk is worth it if I win first place.” You finally take in a deep breath, all that you were waiting to say, finally said out loud. “But… but I fainted and screwed everything up anyway, so… early congratulations on your win.” The finally statement tasted bitter as it left your lips.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence between the two before Seungkwan spoke. “If it's that important to you, Y/N, then I'll step out of the competition.”

A deafening silence hung in the air before you scoffed. Then you chuckled. Then you were laughing.

“You… You might as well spit in my face and step all over me if you'd let me win by default, Seungkwan.”

“You're going to be disqualified because you couldn't finish the song, at least with me backing out, you'd get third place because you got to start your song.”

Again, you scoffed. “Then I wouldn't be held accountable for my actions—my disqualification would be the result of my carelessness to my health, and I'm already coming to terms with that. And you said it yourself, it's a high school competition.

“I can accept the fact that I'm disqualified because I wasn't able to finish the song, but I will not accept you stepping out just because you pity me, Seungkwan.”

Before he could say anything, you slipped in one more statement. “If you did that, Seungkwan, I'll actually, truly hate you forever.”

He couldn't help but smirk, chuckling at your statement. “Don't you already hate me?”

You sighed, knowing that if you didn't come clean, that he'd actually go to a committee member and inform them of his departute from the competition. “I don't hate you—I'm envious of you, Seungkwan, and that envy just translates to anger.”

He doesn't say anything, but sits up, resting his chin on his hand, waiting for you to elaborate.

You rolled your eyes before continuing. “You're everything I could've wanted and more; you have a versatile and amazing voice, you're an extrovert that's known and liked by everyone you meet, you have a vast support system… I'm sorry I hate you because I'm jealous.”

There was a moment of silence from him as he processes what you said, before a knowing grin appeared on his lips. “I'm everything you wanted… and more?”

The realization that you really need to sleep struck you, as you quickly tried to correct yourself. Your sleep deprivation has you speaking absolute nonsense. “You're everything I could've wanted to be.” The look on his face showed that he wasn't convinced, but he didn't pry.

“What more could you want to?”

“Nothing.” He only raised his eyebrows towards you, causing you to roll your eyes. “You need to go out there, you have to be on standby.”

He spared a glance at the door, finally standing up. “Fine,” He says with a sigh, “I'll go out there and perform—I won't back out.”

“Good—”

“Under one condition, Y/N.”

You squinted suspiciously at him. “What?”

“There's a vocal contest next month, but it's for duos only,” he explains, “you become my duo, then I'll go out there right now and let you lose fair and square.”

You sneered at his last statement, thinking about the duet contest. Seeing that you were conflicted, Seungkwan quickly quipped, “You'll finally get another first place—I just hope you don't mind sharing.”

After a beat, you sighed. “Fine. It's a deal.” He smiles widely, reaching out to shake your hand, but you shook your head. “We're not that close.”

“Fine.” He turns on his heels to head out the door, but stops before he could leave. Looking back at you, his face had changed to that of more serious, yet… gentle. “And it's not true that no one from our school supports you, Y/N. I do, I've always supported you. Maybe you were too blinded by your hate for me that you never realized, but…

“The reason why I kept joining competitions alongside with you was to give support so that you'd finally beat me with your own efforts, because I know you're more than capable of you'd pace yourself and give yourself time,” he explains, “Just because I compete against you, doesn't mean that I never want you to win against me—so, Y/N, get better, then after our duet, we can go back to competing with each other and maybe, you'll finally be able to flaunt that gold trophy over my face.”

You didn't realize tears were stinging at your eyes as he finished his vent. You couldn't help but chuckle, shaking your head, before looking back at him in determination.

“You're on.”

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #x reader #seungkwan #boo seungkwan #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #heartsfromia writes

137 notes · View notes

heartsfromia · 1 year

Text

until you — x. minghao

pairing: non-idol! minghao x reader

word count: 3,130

genre: minor angst, fluff, college au

warnings: mentions of drinking

author's notes: i tried to keep the reader gender neutral, so apologies if some parts are a bit confusing. Also, thank you for 300 followers !! you guys are the reason why i can never escape my delusions (affectionate) <3

“Y/N, get up, we’re going to be late.”

The incessant knocking at the door of your apartment pulled you out of your slumber, your eyelids peeling open slowly as you blinked at the door, your lips pouted slightly as you tried to collect all functioning braincells to gather.

“Y/N, I know you’re awake.” You sat straight up when you recognized the voice of Minghao. Groggily, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you walked towards your door, pulling it open to find Minghao already fully dressed for class today.

“Good morning,” he grinned, eyeing you from your disheveled hair, to your bare feet. “We’re going to be late.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes before showing the time on your phone screen to your friend. 08:52. “Class doesn’t start until eleven-thirty.” You expected Minghao would be flustered because you looked past through his empty threat, but instead, the man in front of you scoffed, as if expecting your reaction.

“You promised we’d get breakfast together.’

“I did?” You queried, stilling.

“Yeah, we reserved a table earlier in the week and we have to be there before nine-thirty.” Oh yeah, you thought, guilt rushing to heat the apples of your cheeks before you wordlessly turned on your heels and grabbed a towel by your door, entering your bathroom. Minghao’s laughter didn’t go unnoticed as you closed the door with a slam.

“What were you doing last night? You don’t usually wake up this late in the day even if your class was in the afternoon,” Minghao asked when you were done showering, and dressed.

“What do you think?” You countered, pulling on a jacket since the weather was getting colder by the hour. “Are you done with Park’s assignment?” Minghao only shook his head. “I wanted to do little-by-little but last night, I had a sudden boost in motivation and am now three-quarters done with it.”

He gave you a look, as if shocked that you were able to do so much in one night, especially for an assignment that isn’t due until next week. “So, you were up until what time?”

“Two,” you answered a sigh. Grabbing your wallet and phone, you stuffed the items into your bag before slinging over your shoulder, “I’m ready, let’s go.” With a satisfied grin, Minghao pushed himself off of your couch before you followed him towards his car, the scent of his cologne wafting in the air as he walked past you. You tried to ignore how the sweet, citrus scent tugged at your heart, by shaking your head.

A little back story of how you and Minghao became friends? Well, he likes you. A lot. He even had the guts to confess his feelings for you, but once again, you decided against having a relationship with him. With anyone really.

You could vividly remember when he confessed to liking you in a romantic way. How nonchalant he spoke as the two of you sat beside one another at the local café you both frequent after classes, how after he spoke the five words; “I really like you, Y/N”, he simply took a sip of the jasmine tea he ordered, not realizing how you were staring at him as if you were a deer caught in headlights. A confession was not your Tuesday afternoon bingo, especially not from Minghao.

Nonetheless, he was understanding when you told him you weren't looking to be in a relationship any time soon. He was respectful, and for some reason, you hated that. You hated how he understood, told you that he wanted the weight off his chest, and continued his day as if nothing happened. You tried to do the same, you really did. You kept talking to him that day like you usually do—complaining about your professors, and how your next door neighbor has the worst sleep schedule on earth. You thought you were able to stay neutral with the situation after Minghao’s confession.

Unfortunately, your brain kept telling you no to having a normal friendship with Minghao. A little voice in the back of your head kept echoing throughout your thoughts how having feelings involved in a friendship is just a recipe for disaster.

So, you did the best thing you could do. You avoided Minghao. However, your efforts were fruitless, Minghao was a persistant guy—not in the way that he’d force you to be in relationship with him, but in the way that if you showcase obvious signs that you’re trying to pull away, he’d at least want you to explain. He’s not the type to leave things undone, especially with someone he obviously cares for.

He looked for you—from classes to your apartment, hoping to finally catch you so the both of you could talk things through. You meant a lot to Minghao, and he didn’t want his uncontrollable feelings to get in the way of a potential friendship that could last if you both tried. College was a tough journey, and having to deal with it alone is a one-way ticket to insanity.

When he finally caught you off guard at your apartment, you caved and let him in, explaining the best you could as to why you distanced yourself from it. You weren’t sure whether you’d be able to have a friendship with him, knowing well enough that by keeping him by your side as simply a friend would hurt him somehow because you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. You expressed to him that you weren’t looking to have any romantic relationship, joking about how you were dating your major because of how much time and energy you’re already placing onto it.

Minghao, as always, understood. He wouldn’t have stayed by your side if he didn’t understand that feelings are out of our own control.

You smiled at him when he reached out, wrapping his arms around you as he hugged you tight, reassuring you that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and that you can’t get rid of him. Not until you both held your diplomas, but he was sure even after that, he’d want to stay in contact with you. You were one of the few people he genuinely enjoyed being around, and you could say the same to him.

Thus, it only took time until the inevitable happened.

Either, you were to start liking him, or he starts unliking you.

“I think it’s happened already but you’re too in denial to realize it,” Jieqiong once told you after you explained about your situation with Minghao. She’s a good friend to you, but you knew she couldn’t be how Minghao is to you. She’s always been supportive of your friendship with him, and although you tell her the possibilities of you and Minghao dating was slim, she lowkey thought you two look good together.

“What?” You asked, glancing back from where you were laying down in her room.

“What you said—either, he’s already stopped liking you or you’re beginning to like him, Y/N,” she points out, and proceeded to ask about an assignment in one of your shared classes, the topic immediately changed.

Her words echoed throughout your head. You hated how easily it had become something you were worried about—if you didn’t care about Minghao that way, why would you worry if his feelings began to fade? If you didn’t see him as more than a friend, why did the thought of having romantic feelings towards him cause an immense fear within you?

Minghao noticed your lack of focus when you were both in class and you barely registered anything the professor had explained, panic enveloping you as a test was announced to take place next meeting.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked while packing his things, noticing you frantically flip through the pages of your binder, trying to find any notes you had mindlessly written down. You found none.

You sent him a weak smile, “Barely got any sleep last night finishing up Park’s assignment, I didn’t focus today.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, since you did finish up the assignment but you didn’t get enough sleep because of the assignment, it was all Jieqiong’s words that kept you up.

“You can borrow my notes, you know?” He offered and you smiled gratefully. “By the way, Y/N—” you turned to him, throwing the strap of your bag over your shoulder, your attention towards your friend. “Mingyu and Seokmin are planning to go to a bar tomorrow night, do you want to join so we can carpool together?”

A night out felt like something you need, and alcohol might be a good idea to let your nerves loose for one evening.

“Are you drinking?” Minghao shook his head, answering, “D-and-D.” Designated driver.

You only nodded, “I’d like that.”

Little did you know the night would’ve ended in a dark blur, and you woke up in your bed, a raging headache stirring you awake as the memories of last night began to flood into your head.

“I like you, too, Minghao, I’ve liked you for a while, but I wasn’t sure how to tell you.” The words echoed throughout your head as you groaned, massaging your aching temples as you could envision yourself hanging onto Minghao’s shoulders as he helped you into his car, deciding that you had enough last night.

“I like you, too, Minghao.”

Fuck, did you really confess your feelings to him under the influence? The blood completely drained from your face, your heart racing as you hoped to whatever entity was out there that you were dreaming—that those words were uttered in your dream and not in reality. You hoped—you prayed that you didn’t just screw up your friendship with the one and only guy you truly cared for in your life, that you didn’t just mess everything up because you allowed yourself to fall for him. You can’t like him, what if he doesn’t like you anymore? What will you do when he slowly starts pulling away, like you did when he first confessed? And what if this time, you don’t chase after him and allow him to leave, just like every other unrequited crush?

You never perceived yourself as a selfish person, but with Minghao, you didn’t want him to leave you.

A knock broke you from your spiral into despair, but when you heard the familiar voice, cold nerves rushed through your veins. “Y/N, are you awake?”

Begrudgingly, you stood up and stalked towards your door, looking through the peephole and seeing Minghao dressed in a hoodie, something in a plastic bag in his hand as the other was stuffed into his pocket, waiting for you to open the door. You took repeated deep breaths, hoping it'll calm your racing heart, but to no avail.

“Hey,” you greeted weakly as you pulled your door open enough to show your face, but give the message that you didn't intend to have him come in.

“Hey, how's your head?” Gosh, can he please not care for once? It's making things harder.

“Hurts, but I'll manage.” Your eyes glanced at the plastic bag by his side. “What's that?”

“I stole hangover soup from Mingyu’s fridge, you'll just need to warm it up in the microwave or stove.” He reached out, waiting for you to take it from his hand. You only stared at it with a hard look, chewing mindlessly on your inner lip. Minghao notices your conflicted expression, his arm slowly returning back to his side. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

You didn't look up. You started blankly at the floor as you uttered, “Forget what I said last night, Hao.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“You remember?”

“Just… forget anything happened, anything I said.” The heavy sigh that left his lip caused you to look up at him, finding an irritated look etched across his face.

He closed his eyes briefly, a crease appearing between his knitted brows as he reaches up at pinched the bridge of his nose. You're doing it again, he couldn't help but think.

“You expect me to forget, Y/N? You expect me to act like you didn't just admit to liking me, when all this time, I still like you as well?” He asked you, almost dumbfounded that you had the audacity to ask him to do such a thing. “Why?”

“Because…” Don't say it, don't— “Because I regret it, Hao. I regret telling you that.”

“Bullshit.” His harsh tone caused you to wince, closing your eyes briefly to avoid the glare he sent you. “You're doing it again, Y/N. You're running away.”

“I'm not—” You exhaled heavily. “I'm not running away, I'm telling you—”

“You're lying to me, Y/N! To yourself, most of all.” You clenched your jaw. You shouldn't have answered the door, you should've acted like you were still asleep. “Let me in, so we can talk about this.”

“There's nothing for us to talk about—”

“Talking about what happened last night is better than either of us acting like it never happened,” he interjected, “at least then, we'd know what we think about it—what I think about because right now, Y/N, you're making all decisions.”

Knowing that he won't back down, with a sigh, you stepped to the side, and Minghao stepped in after taking his shoes off. Without saying a word, you poured the hangover soup into a bowl and placed it in the microwave, and pressed the reheat setting.

“What do you remember from last night?” He leaned against your counter, arms crossed over his chest as he started at you from the across the room.

“I remember everything up until my sixth shot, and everything after that was blurry, but I know that I confessed to you in the car after you helped me in,” you explained, fidgeting with your fingers and avoiding his sharp gaze. “After that I fell asleep… I think.”

He was silent for a moment, eyes locked on the number counting down on the screen of your microwave.

“You forgot one thing,” he said after a while. You cocked your head to side in confusion, waiting for him to tell you. “I asked you something after your confession. Do you remember?”

You racked through the memories of last night, most of which were lost in a drunken haze. You can't remember—the most significant part of last night besides Mingyu doing the robot on the bar counter, was your confession.

You shook your head, and Minghao nodded, understanding. “I asked you why you didn't tell me sooner because you said you've liked me for a while. Do you know what you said?”

Again, you shook your head.

“You said you were scared. You didn't say why because as you said, you fell asleep before I could get more answers.” You froze upon hearing that. You seriously need to rethink choosing drinking as a stress reliever.

Your eyes then widened as you watched him take a step forward, eyes locked with yours. “So, Y/N, tell me—” He was now in front of you “—why are you scared of loving?”

You stared at his deep brown eyes; his gaze was not accusing you of being incapable of love. It was full of sincerity, genuine curiosity, trying to break the wall you've so clearly built all these years, to protect something—and Minghao wanted to know what that something was. What he knew was that whatever it was, it was preventing you from allowing yourself to explore more.

“A lot,” you said, your words barely above a whisper and you weren't sure if he heard, but when his eyes softened, you knew he did. “I'm… I'm scared that by allowing myself to… to love and be loved, that I'm allowing myself to be vulnerable to heartbreak and disappointment, that I'm willing to put myself at risk of emotional turmoil—to get hurt… And, I don't know if I'll be able to get through that alone.”

Your words processed through Minghao’s head, before he sighed softly, and pulled you into him, his hand rubbing reassuringly on your back. The familiar warmth that naturally radiated from him wrapped itself around you, and your arms lifted, returning his hug as you closed you eyes, breathing in his sweet cologne.

The ding of the microwave broke the atmosphere, and Minghao sent you a sheepish smile before retrieving the bowl and gesturing for you to sit. He watched you silently as you took sips of the broth, sighing in content as the flavors danced on your taste buds, the headache fading with each spoonful.

He still hasn't said anything, you noted, and you were almost finished.

“You're not going to say anything?” You finally asked, only the broth left in your bowl.

“I was waiting for you to finish eating first.” You only nodded, pushing the bowl away from you, and then leaned back, staring at him as you waited for him to respond to what you said earlier.

“You wouldn't be alone, Y/N,” he started, drawing random doodles with his fingertip on the surface of the table. “The thing about relationships is that you're not alone. You can talk to me about anything, whatever is going on, all your worries—communication is key in keeping a relationship strong,” he explained,

“Can I guarantee that you'll never experience heartbreak or disappointment? No, I can't, but allowing yourself to be vulnerable to face them is a part of the journey, to allow yourself to grow from those low points, and being in a relationship, it just means you won't face them alone.

“The thing is, there can be a dark cloud hovering over us on a sunny day, but even within that dark cloud, there's a silver lining—bad things are going to happen anyway, but they're never permanent, there will always be a solution and you'll always make it through.” He reaches out placing his hand over yours. “Relationships will make sure you're never alone facing them.”

“I know that… it's just, I'm not sure if I'd be able to commit to one when all I can focus on right now is this stupid fegree

“Take things slow, Y/N, I'm not forcing you to jump right into one,” he reassured, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the skin of your hand.

You returned his smile, eyes glancing affectionately at his hand atop yours before a light chuckle escaped your lips.

“What?”

“It's just… you're the first guy I've ever liked that likes me back,” you told him, locking eyes. “Kind of the reason why I'm so scared of relationships—I never want to have one if the feelings aren't mutual.”

“So, you've never been in a relationship before?” You shook your head and Minghao smiled fondly, enveloping your hand with his, the warmth from his palm radiating onto yours.

“Thank you, Y/N, it's an honour.”

359 notes · View notes