Early Bird | Han Jisung X Reader | 517 W.

early bird | han jisung x reader | 517 w.

Han was never the early bird type of person. That is until he walked in on you sleeping peacefully, one autumn morning.

The night before, you had invited everyone for a barbeque night. You have taken your final exam of the semester, and even if the results are yet to be announced, what matters the most is that you passed. That alone deserves a celebration party. You also welcome whoever wants to crash the night. But everyone ended up playing games until 3 in the morning when one by one, they fell asleep in the space of your apartments.

You were the last one standing, tidying up the room a bit before you passed out on the couch. You were too tired to move to your own room, despite it being unoccupied.

Han wakes up a little after 7 with a congested nose. The combination of autumn air and the air conditioner is fatal, especially when he accidentally falls asleep on the floor of the guest room with nothing but the stolen bed cover under him.

He walks out of the room to see the aftermath of last night's party, feeling a headache just by seeing the state of your apartment. He walks past the mess to boil some water. The basic remedy for a congested nose. The pot was starting to boil when he turned and leaned on the kitchen counter. His eyes caught your figure, all curled up on the couch. He smiles to himself. Thinking about how cute you look, with your nose scrunched, just like a little kid during one of those sleepovers.

You stir in your sleep, dragging Han back to reality.

On another occasion, Han came in early to the studio, wanting to finish one of his songs. Chan informed him the night before that you might be around early too, since you're working on a project.

However, he didn't expect to walk in on you sleeping on the couch of the recording room. This time you're wearing a much more warm attire, sweatpants, and a black hoodie. You even have a fabric draped on you as a makeshift blanket.

He doesn't have it in him to wake you up, so you asked the staff if he could borrow another recording room. He watches you sleep as he waits for the staff to prepare another room. Wondering what kind of dream are you having.

Fast forward many coincidences later where he gets to see you in your most peaceful state, only to realize that it's not normal to watch your friend as they sleeps and feel your heart ache with such longing.

"Hi," you spoke softly as you slowly awaken. "You're staring again."

"Good morning, love," he said, pressing a kiss on your forehead, smiling. "How's your sleep?"

"Better now that you're here," you answer. Your smile blooms quicker than your eyes fully open.

Han was never the early bird type of person, but even if he wakes up 5 minutes earlier than you, it's enough for him to get all the energy he needs for the rest of the day.

a/n. written while being sleep-deprived:')

cat cafe | lee minho x reader | 721 w.

Co-owning a cat cafe has been a successful attempt to make a side income for Minho. Plus point because he gets to see them more frequently than his actual cats.

Another plus point because you're his co-owner.

"We really need to talk about the interior design. I feel like it's too dull and need more color or something," you said on the phone. You admit the location of this cafe is a bit... secluded. But with the power of social media, you believe this place can thrive.

On the other line, Minho was looking through his laptop screen. Scrolling through countless pictures about "Cat cafe interior designs." He knows absolutely nothing about interior design, but if you say so, he'll find a way to make it work. You talk more about changing this and that, what's the most important thing to do according to you and the internet.

"I hope you're actually listening," you said quietly. You realize that he hasn't spoken any words since he picked up the phone 5 minutes ago.

"I am!" Minho assured. He had already texted his friends for recommendations.

"M'kay, well, let's talk about this more when you have free time," you proposed.

"How about tomorrow?" he asks. "I'll make appointments with an interior designer so we can talk about it."

You open your mouth to protest, Minho is a responsible co-owner. Sometimes too responsible that he immediately agrees to everything you say. Of course, you're not complaining, but it never failed to fluster you.

"Are you free around lunch?" Minho asks again. You confirmed your free schedule for tomorrow before writing down some of your ideas.

"How did you even find an interior designer that quick?" you asked Minho when he walked into the cafe the next morning. He decided that it would be best if both of you talked first and sort out some things.

"Let's say I have... friends... who have connections..." he drawled. Your eyes widen at the confession. "It'll be great, trust me," Minho adds.

Around lunch, a middle-aged woman walked inside the cafe, looking around the place. You quickly notice this and nudge Minho's elbow. He stood up instantly, approaching the woman before guiding her to where you were sitting.

After exchanging names, she took out a catalog. Colors drained from Minho's face, a grave mistake that prompted you to look at him in confusion.

"Sorry," you said softly, "uh... I think there's a misunderstanding here." You smiled thinly. The words on the cover of the catalog look both funny and scary at the same time.

"Newlyweds Home: Interior Strategies"

Minho gulps down, mentally cursing himself.

"Oh?" the designer questioned. Looking as confused as you are. "Well, yesterday Minho said he and his partner need a consultation for a co-owned space, wouldn't that be your new home?" she continues.

"It's the cafe," Minho answered. Although his hands are itchy to snatch the catalog and look at the details of each page. He's looking at your expression, wondering if you're interested. Like he is.

"Oh!" she exclaims. Laughing awkwardly. "Well, you see, I'm actually specialized in residential interior design, not commercial ones, though I can do it as well, but I'd rather refer you to someone I know if that's okay..."

Minho inhales sharply, a smile formed on his lips. "That would be amazing, thanks!"

And just like that, the woman quickly put back the catalog in her bag, took out a name card, and slid it over to Minho. All three of you talk for a moment before Minho escorts her out.

For a split second, you were actually thinking about what it's like to actually have your own home. Build your own family. With Minho.

"Well that was awkward," Minho said when he came back in. You punched his shoulder playfully. Unable to get over the silliness. "How would I know if residential and commercial interior design is different?" he tried to defend himself. Following you to the back room.

"Well, maybe next time we'll do the research together, dummy," you said, taking a glass of water. Your cheeks feel hot for no particular reason.

"Agree," Minho answered.

Maybe next time, both of you will still consider the residential interior design too. Maybe when both of you had the courage to actually let the heart lead for once.

a/n. minho is such a "whatever you say, beautiful" typa person i just know it in my heart. also mutual pining!! isn't it frustrating to read? ((bcs it is frustrating to write...)) my reader self was like "kiss already!" but no... for this one you get to decide what happens next ((or should i make a second installation? lmk heheh<3))

stray kids masterlist.

dir. 🩷— fluff, 🖤—angst, 🩵—hurt/comfort, 💚—humor/crack all works are sfw unless stated otherwise.

★ slow morning — 🩷

having a newborn sure has its ups and downs, on one of those days, chan helps you take care of the baby, letting you sleep a bit longer.

★ us in fairytale — 🩷

in the verge of sleep, you offered chan to stay forever.

★ listen — 🩷

you need a nap, and a date with chan afterward.

★ cat cafe — 🩷

co-owning a cat cafe with a cat lover minho is fun until it gets technical... and apparently a bit personal...

★ noise — slight enemies to lovers<3

there are two sides to changbin; 1) the life of the party, and 2) his gentle self. you find yourself falling for him anyway.

★ pet names — 🩷💚

when you don't use the assigned pet names, hyunjin takes it as a war declaration.

★ colors — 🩷

you offer to be hyunjin's muse for a day.

★ early bird — 🩷

han finds himself falling in love while watching you sleep ((he swears it's not weird, just very endearing that you look calmer)).

★ revenge —🩵

han founds out about your breakup and offer to help with revenge.

★ chocolate-covered love — 🩷

what's better than spending your weekend, cooking meals and having dinner with felix?

★ lullaby — 🩵

when sleep refuses to come for days, you have seungmin to trade a favor and you know just what you want to ask.

★ sparks fly — 🩷 friends to lovers

being best friends with jeongin also comes with delivering stuff from his secret admirer. until it gets annoying.

all rights reserved. my writings are not to be plagiarized, translated, or reposted on other platforms. ©️ arcanesea last update 29/05/24

hellooo😭 why is this so soft i need this so bad😭

one to ten | jww

summary: your roommate may not know how to help you feel better, but that won’t stop him from trying. pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader au: roommates to ?, pining, sick fic type: drabble (hurt/comfort, fluff) rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact with my content. cw: gn!spoonie!reader; downbad!best boi!super shy!roommate!wonu; chronic illness/pain is implied but no diagnosis is specified; hand-holding 👁️👄👁️; barely proofread because brain fog, lol. a/n: this is super self-indulgent and based on my own personal experience with chronic illness (fibromyalgia), so it may be different than yours!! wc: 1k

Wonwoo isn’t psychic, but he knows that something is up the second he gets home from work.

Walking through the door of your shared apartment, he moves immediately to deposit his keys on the nearby hook and finds that yours are already there. Odd, he thinks, given your habit of imposing your own overtime. Your commute is shorter than his, and you still never beat him back here.

He looks down as he toes off his shoes, carefully maneuvering them across the mat to avoid both your heels and your sneakers, which don’t seem to have budged since this morning. Wonwoo frowns. It’s rare for you to skip out on the gym at the end of the day, but it’s unheard of for you to miss work — even when you should, in his non-expert opinion.

That’s a bit of a red flag, he’ll admit.

Wonwoo locks the door behind him, pads off across the kitchen and through the adjoining living room, and eventually stops at your bedroom door. It’s cracked open — a secret code of yours, he’s learned. One that means you don’t want to be alone, but you feel the need to warn him about what’s on the other side. Usually, it’s you, deflated in your bed in a way that you find embarrassing. Still, even on your worst days, he’s never seen you look bad. 

He’s not convinced that you could if you tried.

Softly, Wonwoo raps his knuckles against the doorframe to warn you. In response, he gets a muffled, “Hello?” It wraps around his heart and squeezes just a little. He loves that about you; how gentle your voice is when everything else you’re experiencing feels the opposite.

You lift your head up just enough to make eye contact with him as he slips through the doorway, and you smile. If it aches to do so, you pretend like it doesn’t.

He clears his throat awkwardly. “Hey.”

Admittedly, this is the part that Wonwoo feels he’s worst at. He’s never quite sure what to ask or what he can do to help, always simultaneously afraid of being patronizing or too hands-off. It’s a balancing act; his equilibrium is off.

And, god, he’s so shy when it comes to you. He can’t make himself act on any of the comforting impulses he absolutely has, so he simply pauses at the end of your bed and sweeps his eyes over your frame. A triage of sorts, he supposes.

You’re on your right side, hugging a hot water bottle, and there’s a Munchlax plush between your knees to keep them separated. Your left hip hurts, he guesses. It’s probably safe to assume that the rest of you does, too. Crinkling his nose as he thinks, he asks, “One to ten?”

Another code. 

Wonwoo has to adjust the scale when you answer — three — because your three is his eleven. The good news isn’t lost on him, though: Your pain was a six during the last flare. Things may not be great, but they’ve definitely been worse.

“Mostly just tired,” you sigh, as if you can hear the calculations he’s running in his head. “I was this close —” You lift an arm and pull your thumb and index finger in so that they’re almost touching. “— to making it out the door this morning.” 

Dropping your arm again slowly, you pat the space next to you in silent invitation. Wonwoo’s body hesitates, even though his pulse doesn’t. It’s par for the course, unfortunately for him.

He wonders how many moments like this need to pass before his palms don’t sweat anymore. Will filling the spot next to you on your bed, on the couch, or even in your passenger seat ever not affect him like this?

Maybe not.

He’s okay with that, so long as you keep giving him the opportunity.

You laugh, and it single-handedly diffuses the tension in his posture. “I think the side of the bathtub got taller. I almost had to yell for you to haul me out of there, but I managed.”

“Proud of you.” He’s chuckling now, too, but that doesn’t undermine how much he means it. Getting your body to cooperate with you is always hardest in the mornings.

For what it’s worth, he would’ve come running if you’d called.

Carefully, Wonwoo sits down on the vacant side of your bed and scoots closer to you, knowing you’ll call him out for leaving distance and anticipating how badly he'll blush if you do. It’s so much easier for you to be close to people than it is for him, but he’s trying. 

He hopes you see that.

There’s a microscopic wince when you wiggle your way towards him. It’s replaced quickly by a satisfied little grin once you settle, your body curving around his bent knee like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

“You always run warm,” you muse. “I’m jealous.”

Wonwoo blinks, a little dumbfounded that you’ve noticed — not that he should be, really. He’s obviously picked up on a lot of trivia about you since you took over his former roommate’s lease several months back. If he knows the order of your skin care routine, it’s not weird for you to know that he can’t sleep without a fan on.

Should he have noticed this about you by now?

Curiosity makes him bold, apparently. He pulls his palm off the mattress and touches his fingertips to the back of your hand. “Goddamn,” he whistles. 

His hypothesis is proven the second he touches you — you’re freezing — but Wonwoo admittedly gets a kick out of the temperature disparity. He can’t help but run the pads of his fingers absentmindedly over your skin, tracing nonsense patterns. You can’t help the pleased hum that slips out of you as you watch his ministrations; or the way your heavy eyelids start to interrupt your view. 

Even when he’s sure you’ve been lulled to sleep, Wonwoo keeps doodling. It’s got to be exhausting to exist in a body that always aches, and you deserve whatever rest you can get. Truth be told, he could probably stay like this for hours if that would help. He’d be doing the same thing at his PC, anyways, holding a mouse instead of your hand.

Yeah, he thinks, this is a much better set-up.

HEARTS + STARS | pattern 01.

──────── ⵌ NEUTRALS ...

──────── ⵌ RAINBOW ...

thinner lines because I’m experimenting ! I kinda dig it; I might change the rest of my line dividers to thinner lines. anyway, more post dividers and other patterns coming soon. :3

patterns : 001 / 002 / 003 / 004 / 005

feel free to use; please like, reblog, and credit〜

more dividers →

this is nancy drew/george fan and bess marvin coded!!

Dialogue prompt, 11/29/2023

Persona A: Well, go on. Tell them. Persona B: I’m sorry. Persona A: And? Persona B: And I won’t do it again. Persona A: AND? Persona B: And I’ll reverse all the resurrections I did and rebury everyone where they belong.