#LITERALLY CRYING IN THE CLUB | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

euphoricsunflowers · 2 years

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his favorite color is blue - jeon wonwoo

a/n: based on a prompt i sent @pusoatbuwan that she wrote a little bit about. hope you like it starie !!

word count: 3.1k

content: a bit of angst, mostly fluff, mentions of food, college au, non idol au, not proofread lmao

summary: there’s this guy in your history class who is so attractive, but he’s cold and closed off. guess you gotta fix that.

the first time you spoke to jeon wonwoo did not go as well as you intended.

he’s comfortably sitting by himself near the bookshelves at the college’s library and he looks up from his book at the person tapping his shoulder, not exactly annoyed but he thinks he probably looks it, “can i help you?” he asks.

“yeah, actually, i actually really need help with something,” you say, taking the seat next to him without even asking. it’s not like he owns the place but you are kind of in his space for being in a mostly empty library, “you’re in my history 12 class right?”

“i think so,” he says cautiously, closing his book because he’s assuming he’s not going to be able to get back to it for at least a couple minutes.

“do you know how the professor wants us to write this paper? because i swear i have no idea how he wants us to write a paper on reconstruction when the only sources he’s letting us use are completely unrelated. also, have you even done it yet? because it was assigned like a week ago and i haven’t even opened a google doc yet,” you just seem to go on and on, “plus i don’t even take notes in class because he’s just so boring so i barely know what’s going on.”

wonwoo, while now a bit annoyed, tries to not be rude in his response. he feels it in his bones that you’re going to ask to copy his notes and probably plagiarize his paper too, but he doesn’t do that. not for anyone, “i’m sorry,” no he’s not, “but can you ask someone else?”

he sees you visibly deflate, your voice going from bursting with energy to dead and flat in seconds, “oh, uhm, yeah sure. i was just-” you start, but stop yourself, “nevermind. sorry for bothering you, wonwoo.”

he feels this sinking feeling in his stomach like he just made the wrong move. like all his life he had been making choices like a character in a game, and this moment felt like choosing the wrong one. he almost sees a ‘they will remember that’ over your head, as you get your stuff together enough to get up and find a different seat.

“wait,” he says, almost instinctively. he doesn’t even know why he said it, but now you’re looking at him expectantly and he now he has to say something, “what were you gonna say?”

you pause for a moment, debating on whether or not he was worth answering, before chuckling to yourself, “i just wanted to be friends, maybe complain a bit about my overwhelming classes. sorry for bothering.”

you’re looking at him sharply now, as if you could see through his skull and read his every thought like words on paper. you nailed exactly what he was thinking without you even saying it. i wasn’t trying to use you, i just wanted a friend and he almost felt embarrassed, “oh.” was the only thing he said.

you chuckle again before walking off.

he feels his heart pounding in his chest.

—

the second time, it was him who approached.

he figures that he was, indeed, the asshole last time, so when he walks into the library to find you sitting by yourself, ironically reading just like he was, it’s him that sits next to you.

he has no grand introduction, just sitting at the seat next to you as he pulls out his laptop to type his assignment for another class. you pull out an earbud as you notice him, “hey there?” you say awkwardly.

“it was a stupid paper,” he admits, looking over at you, “the sources were completely unrelated and i honestly wrote a good four pages of nonsense.”

it leaves you stunned, but you take the victory where you see it. and you see it just on the corner of his lip. he’s smiling at you.

it makes you smile too, “i can do you one better,” you say, leaning in closer to add some suspense, “i wrote a good five pages of nonsense.”

you sit in a much more comfortable silence than before, working on your own stuff together for a good 30 minutes. he’s typing away on his laptop while you’re reading a book for a class that is so boring that you spend the whole time thinking about him. the really cute guy from your history class. he’s super quiet and a little bit closed off, but somehow you got him coming to you. you turn to look at him, waiting for him to look back, before you say anything.

“i’ve actually gotta get going. i told nayeon i’d meet her for starbucks after her lecture on the different classifications of bones. you know, as like a treat for sitting through something so painful,” you chuckle at your own words.

“yeah, that’s fine,” he says, going back to looking at his computer, “i’ll see you later.”

“actually-” you start to say, catching his attention again, “could i have your phone number? maybe we could plan to meet up next time.”

he doesn’t know why but his heart is pounding the same way it did when you first walked away from him, but this time you’re still here staring into his soul.

he worries his silence is an answer you’ll take as a no, so he remembers to get out of his head, “sure.”

another win for you.

—

the third time, the fourth time, and the fifth time all kind of blend together. maybe it had something to do with they were all in the span of 72 hours, but every it seemed you would text him that you were in the library and he could come sit with you if he wanted. every day, almost like clockwork, he popped into the library maybe 20 minutes after you messaged him, scanning the building for you and taking a seat beside you once he found you. he would either work on his assignments or read his book, while you would do something similar.

it wasn’t until meeting #6 that anything had really happened. of course your conversations were getting less and less awkward as you settled into a pattern of you talking a lot and him talking a little bit until one of you had to go.

this time, though, you had brought something for him, “here,” you said, already rushing to explain before he even had a chance to ask what and why, “you’ve been telling me you’re tired for 3 days straight, or at least agreeing with me when i say it. you like iced americanos, right? i even got you an extra shot.”

he doesn’t say anything but his nod along with the small smile on his face as he sips the straw says he most definitely does like it. he drinks it slowly, so much so that by the time he’s halfway done all the ice had melted; you had been finished with yours for at least 10 minutes at that point. the caffeine hits him after about 20, though, and the energy is really what he needs. he sits there, sipping his coffee, as you casually talk about your classes and the like, as usual.

“oh and i have to fill out this philosophy study guide with some arguments that socrates made. i don’t even know what’s going on and all i know is that socrates just goes around making annoying men feel dumb and i love that for him,” you say.

normally he’d just chuckle and that would be the end of it, but this time he thinks about it more. he takes philosophy, he had to do the argument study guide, in fact, he did it last night. he doesn’t need to do anything about your problem though. there’s plenty of time until it’s due tonight, and unless you ask for it he won’t even mention he’s done it.

“not to mention that i haven’t even been sleeping well, but i mean, does any college student? do you sleep well?” you ask, nodding your head at him to indicate you were asking him specifically if he sleeps well.

and yet he can’t think about himself for a moment. the second you started speaking he noticed all the things that said you haven’t been sleeping well before you did. your quad shot latte, the bags under your eyes, your slouching posture. you looked exhausted, frankly.

so he doesn’t even answer your question, instead saying, “you should go home and take a nap then.”

you just can’t seem to stop laughing at him, like what he’s saying is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard, “were you even listening to me? or are you just in your own little world?”

he caved when he sees that exasperated smile. looking back on it, this was the moment he realized that it would become his job, his responsibility, to care for you if you couldn’t care for yourself.

he pulls the philosophy study guide out of his backpack, handing it to you, “take a picture of it and just copy it down. i can’t memorize them all for you but call me if you’re confused.” he can tell you’re a bit stunned, but eventually cave and take a picture of it, front and back, and then hand it back to him.

“thank you, wonwoo, i really appreciate it. i owe you one.”

no, you don’t owe him anything.

—

the semester ends faster than he wants it to. he’s enjoying meeting up with you at the library a couple times a week, and even though the coffee was a one time thing on your part, he starts to bring stuff for you too. he starts carrying a charger because you complain that your phone is always dying or an extra sweater because they keep it so cold in there. every time he sees that relief and gratitude on your face he feels a sense of inner pride. he’s grown to really love doing all this for you.

especially because his boundaries with letting people copy his homework have been, in all honestly, eroded when it comes to you. even in your classes he doesn’t take, he’s somehow doing your homework for you, disguising it as him being done with his (he’s not he has literally so much to do) and wanting to be helpful somehow.

he never complains though because now you come to the library more refreshed and energized than before and he’s thriving off of seeing you do well. the complaining about stress turns into passionate rants about hobbies and interests, until he feels like he could ace a test about you.

but the semester ends with you going right back to being a stressed disaster as finals overtake your life. he helps where he can, but he’s also overwhelmed and he barely has enough time in the day to stay afloat in his classes.

—

january is cold. it’s also a sad time for him, the seasonal depression hitting him harder when he realizes the happiness of his last semester is coming to a quick end. he hasn’t gotten a text from you in two weeks and it feels like, now that you’ve gotten what you needed out of him, you’ve left him to drown.

he wonders how he could have been so naive to think that you weren’t going to use him. he thinks back with an outsider perspective to your relationship, one of one-sided conversations and history quiz answers. he wonder if you even knew anything about him.

he knows your favorite color, do you know his?

—

“blue,” you said, when he confronted you about his feelings, about feelings invisible and used. he didn’t even mention the favorite color thing. you just knew, “your favorite color is blue,” his eyes soften, and you continue to list things off about him, like they were on a top 10 fun facts list, “you’re afraid of dogs and you don’t like seafood and you like sad music before you go to bed.”

“i never told you those things, how do you know?”

“you say you’re the only one listening, but i’m clearly the only one looking,” you say, “i bring up how i like the color blue, and your smile gives away how you like it too. i recount my childhood dog and the scar i have from him biting my hand and you got pale. i tell you all about this new sushi place i went to that was incredible, and your face told me you were disgusted. i say how i like listening to love songs while i’m winding down before bed, and you nod your head like you do something similar, plus i’ve seen your spotify.”

his heart is aching as he wants to hold your hands and he wants to stop you from talking because god he can’t bare to listen to you pour your heart out like this.

“wonwoo, you’ve always had my attention, i was never just going to up and leave,” he berates himself for even thinking something so preposterous, “i am always grateful for you, i don’t take for granted how graciously you help me, and i have no intentions to sweet talk you into doing my homework for me while i forget about you. i want you to stop thinking like that.”

he supposes he’s truly an idiot.

—

he can tell you’re still a bit shaken by his confrontation, but you still agree to go out for coffee with him. he’s known your order for months now, but he puts less espresso in it than you used to, hoping that you don’t really notice (you do) in hopes that it helps you sleep better (it does).

you made him promise to believe you when you said you valued him as a friend. friend. besides his buddies he had his whole childhood, he doesn’t make many of those.

he keeps his promise. when he looks at you, he believes you. he sees genuine care and love he doesn’t see from anyone else.

this next semester you only share one class, yet he still finds a way to get you homework answers for anything you ask for. he’ll search the whole internet for answer keys or even just straight up do things himself. he’ll drop off lunch for you on days he knows you don’t have time to go get food.

yeah, basically he’s down bad, and only now realizing it.

—

he finds you asleep next to your computer at 9:33pm one random tuesday at some seating outside the library after you left when it closed for the night. he sees that you were about to click submit for an assignment that was due at 11:59, but must have passed out before you could.

he submits it for you, and then packs your back for you, only waking you up when he’s done. those extra seconds of beauty sleep matter, “hey, sleeping beauty. time to go home.” he says.

you groans, standing up and stretch, before slouching and leaning up against him once he stands up too. he gets flustered when you wrap your arms around him and give him the longest hug of his life. he feels like he’s suffocating but in the best way.

“you need to go home and go to bed,” he says, getting another groan from you, “do you want to be carried to your car? i’ll drive you home. we’ll figure out what to do with mine in the morning.”

you nod at everything he says, which is just the cutest thing to him. he picks you up piggyback style and carries you the half-mile walk it is from the library to the parking lot. he spots your car immediately.

he’s driving you home, and you’re practically asleep, but still manage to invite him in. it’s not like he can go anywhere. how are you going to leave in the morning if you didn’t have your car? it makes him think he really could have just taken his to drive you home, but in the moment he wasn’t thinking too well and he really just wanted to get you home and safe.

he crashes on your couch, even after incessant pleading on your part to just sleep in your bed with you, it’s not that weird, it’s the least you could do for him. it’s not that it is weird, but he’s shy and will definitely not get any sleep.

—

you get up in the middle of the night to see him up as well. he was restless and you just wanted some water. you end up talking a little bit, low and quiet voices, as you drink your water.

“can i tell you something?” he asks.

“always,” you say. tell me anything and everything about you, “what is it?”

“im really grateful for you,” he says with his heart on his sleeve. he’s not intoxicated in the slightest but the exhaustion may be having a similar effect on his decision making, “you make my life so much better.”

“how so?” you ask. tell me you love me, please.

“i think i didn’t realize what i was missing out on when i was living my ‘never make any friends’ life, but you make my life so much brighter. i feel so happy and content when i’m with you.”

“i am too,” you say, “i can’t help but adore you every time you rush to try and help me with any problem i have.”

he’s blushing so badly, thank god for the lack of light, “and i can’t help but want to be that person that you rely on to help you. i want to be there bringing you coffee and meals and homework answers every day. i want to do that for you for the rest of our lives.”

say it, he says to himself, say it now.

“i am so badly in love with you,” he says.

he searches for a response in just your eyes, refusing to trust your lips when your verbal replay comes. he sees nothing but adoration in your eyes, and, just like he promised to, he makes himself believe it.

you smile at him, except this one is different. it’s less youthful and less from laughter than before. your smile is so warm and inviting that he feels like he could tell you his deepest secrets without question, that’s how comfortable it makes him.

you press your forehead to his as he smiles back. you whisper, “i’m in love with you too.” it feels like a scream with how powerful it is, but it was nothing more than a whisper, “stay with me forever.”

you already know the answer.

#seventeen #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #yes i am now a carat #love wonu tho he’s literally so cute and for what #crying in the club

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