SOMETHING BETTER THAN FIRST
a jeon jeongguk fanfiction.
ᝰ.ᐟ chapter 2: established rivals.
summary: at seoul central university, jeongguk and y/n are legendary for their brutal academic rivalry. two years of endless bickering, sharp comebacks, and unspoken tension. but when y/n suddenly goes quiet, the game completely changes. what starts as irritation turns into something deeper, messier, and far more dangerous than losing first place.
genre: kind of slow burn romance · college au · enemies to lovers · heavy emotional angst · hurt comfort · fluff
chapter warnings: academic rivals to lovers, slow burn, banter, verbal sparring, emotional tension, light angst, fluff, unresolved feelings, academic pressure, burnout, financial hardship, scholarship concerns, family struggles, subtle class differences.
☕︎ chapter index:
#1. #2. #3. #4. #5. #6. #7. #8. #9. #10.
disclaimer: this is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. i do not own jeon jungkook, bts, or any real-life individuals mentioned in this story. all characters, events, relationships, personalities, and situations portrayed are fictional and do not reflect reality or the real people they are inspired by. any resemblance to actual events beyond the use of public figures is purely fictional.
the student council room smelled faintly of instant coffee and the vanilla air freshener someone had sprayed a little too generously earlier that day. late afternoon sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting warm golden patches across the long wooden table and highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. y/n sat in her usual spot near the middle, laptop open, fingers tapping steadily as she reviewed the agenda for the third time. two years into this vice president role and the routine had become both comforting and exhausting at the same time.
jeongguk lounged at the head of the table like he belonged there, which, as president, he technically did. his fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of his chair, a habit he had whenever he was thinking or pretending to listen. seokjin, the outgoing senior everyone affectionately called “perfect face hyung” when they wanted to tease him about his dramatic flair, was speaking.
“we need to finalize the budget for the fall festival,” seokjin said, flipping through his neatly organized notes. “hoseok already has the entertainment lineup ready. namjoon’s handling the literary corner. we just need to make sure we don’t blow everything on fancy lights again like last year.”
hoseok, sitting cross-legged in his chair with boundless energy, grinned brightly. “the lights were iconic though! people are still talking about how magical the courtyard looked at night.”
“people are also still complaining about the electricity bill that followed,” yoongi muttered dryly from his usual corner seat, barely looking up from his phone. as a music production major, he only spoke when something actually mattered to him.
y/n glanced up from her screen, voice calm but firm. “i agree with yoongi. we should prioritize practical improvements this time. the study lounge renovation and more scholarship student grants. not just pretty lights that last one night.”
jeongguk’s eyes flicked to her immediately, that familiar competitive spark lighting up in them. “always the practical one, y/n. where’s your sense of fun? students need memories too, not just another boring study space.”
“students also need functioning resources that actually help them succeed,” she shot back smoothly. “not everything can be solved with charm and good lighting, jeon.”
a few chuckles rippled around the table. this was their rhythm now. predictable, charged, and strangely comforting to the rest of the council. seokjin leaned back with an amused smile, watching them like it was his favorite ongoing drama. namjoon, ever the calm literature major, simply adjusted his glasses and waited patiently for the inevitable debate to settle.
“charm happens to be very effective,” jeongguk replied, leaning forward with that trademark half-smirk. “last year’s festival brought in record donations. your grant proposals are solid, but they’re… safe. almost too careful.”
“safe keeps people from dropping out when life gets hard,” y/n countered, her tone sharpening just enough. “boring pays the bills and keeps scholarships intact. or do you not have to worry about those kinds of things?”
the room went a little quieter. the jab landed heavier than usual. jeongguk’s jaw tightened for half a second, but he recovered with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “low blow again. you really wake up every morning thinking of new ways to call me spoiled, y/n?”
“only when you act like it,” she replied, not backing down.
taehyung, who had wandered in late as usual, dropped into the seat next to jeongguk with a dramatic sigh. “you two need to chill. one day someone’s going to record these fights and make a compilation video.”
“mind your business, taehyung,” jeongguk said, but his voice softened with genuine affection when he added quietly, “taetae hyung, seriously, not helping right now.”
y/n felt her cheeks warm slightly but refused to show it. after the meeting finally ended and everyone started packing up, jeongguk lingered behind like he always did.
“you didn’t have to go for the throat in there,” he said once the room had mostly cleared.
y/n zipped her bag a little harder than necessary. “you didn’t have to dismiss the grant proposals like they don’t matter to real students.”
“i didn’t dismiss them. i just—” he ran a hand through his hair, looking momentarily frustrated. “never mind. truce?”
“temporary truce,” she replied. “until the next thing.”
“deal.”
they walked out together, the tension easing into their usual charged silence.
the next morning in advanced economics, the tension carried over naturally. halfway through the lecture, jeongguk turned in his seat and flicked a folded paper airplane toward yn’s desk. it landed perfectly on target.
“your last presentation slides were prettier than your argument. thoughts?”
y/n scribbled a reply quickly and flicked it back harder than necessary.
“at least my arguments don’t rely on pretty smiles to get approval.”
he read it, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. the class had long grown used to their antics. sometimes the jabs were light and playful. sometimes they cut deeper than either intended. last week she had called his ideas surface-level in front of everyone. he had fired back that she was too rigid to adapt. they hadn’t spoken properly for two days after that one. yet here they were again, unable to stay away from each other’s orbit.
after class, y/n was walking briskly toward the library when she spotted jeongguk ahead on the path. he was casually holding her favorite mechanical pencil—the limited edition one daeun had given her for her birthday. he must have swiped it from her desk during the council meeting.
“jeongguk!” she called out, speeding up.
he glanced over his shoulder and broke into a grin when he saw her expression. “what? this? finders keepers, y/nie.”
“give it back, you absolute child.”
instead of stopping, he started jogging lightly, holding the pencil up like a trophy. y/n broke into a run after him, backpack bouncing against her shoulder, skirt fluttering. students on the path turned to stare, some laughing openly at the sight. this kind of ridiculous physical chase had become part of their chaos lately, different from their usual verbal sparring in class.
“you’re so petty!” she shouted, weaving around a group of freshmen.
“says the one chasing me across campus for a pencil!” he laughed, dodging playfully around a bench.
she finally caught up near the library steps, grabbing his sleeve and yanking him to a stop. they were both breathing hard, faces close, hearts racing from more than just the run.
“give. it. back,” she demanded, reaching for the pencil.
jeongguk held it higher for a moment, eyes sparkling with mischief. “say please.”
“i will actually end you, jeongguk.”
“so dramatic.” he finally lowered his arm and dropped the pencil into her waiting hand. their fingers brushed warmly. the playfulness faded into something heavier, more aware. for a second neither of them moved. then he stepped back, clearing his throat.
“you run fast for someone who claims she only lives in the library,” he teased, but his voice was noticeably gentler now.
“and you steal things like a five-year-old for someone who’s supposed to be the mature president.” she tucked the pencil safely away. “we’re even now.”
“we’re never even,” he replied, giving her that look again — the one that always made her stomach flip unexpectedly. “see you later, sweets.”
he walked away, leaving her standing on the steps catching her breath.
that afternoon at the café, the atmosphere was peaceful. y/n worked behind the counter, eyes drifting again and again to the big oak tree outside. the leaves had turned a deeper, richer gold, drifting down slowly in the shaded area around the café. it had become her quiet anchor through every season at seoul central university. no matter how heavy the pressure felt, the tree kept its steady, patient rhythm.
jeongguk and taehyung came in later. taehyung immediately started chatting with daeun, who had stopped by for a quick visit.
“usual order?” y/n asked jeongguk before he could speak.
“you know me too well.” he leaned on the counter, watching her work with that familiar intensity. “the tree looks especially nice today.”
“it does,” she said softly, glancing outside. “i’ve been watching it change since freshman year. kind of grounding when everything else feels chaotic.”
they talked for a few minutes without fighting — about upcoming midterms, a funny story from taehyung’s arts class, and a recent council drama. underneath all the rivalry was a real, quiet comfort. after two years, they knew each other better than most people did. the bickering, the chases, the notes, the occasional quiet help… it was messy, unhinged, sometimes genuinely hurtful, but undeniably deep.
as they left, jeongguk lingered at the door for a moment. “don’t study too hard tonight, y/n. you’ll burn out.”
“says the guy who’ll probably pull an all-nighter on his secret photography project,” she replied.
he smiled, soft and real this time. “touché.”
evening found y/n in the library again, surrounded by books and notes. jeongguk showed up an hour later and claimed the seat across from her like it was reserved. they studied in charged silence for a while, trading occasional light jabs about each other’s note-taking habits, but mostly focusing. when y/n’s attention drifted, lost in thoughts about the situation in busan, jeongguk quietly slid a perfectly organized summary sheet toward her without comment. she accepted it with a small nod of thanks.
their bond was complicated. silly chases across campus. sharp words in meetings. quiet acts of care they never fully acknowledged. two years of this push and pull had created something neither of them wanted to name out loud.
outside the library window, the big oak tree stood tall in the growing dark, its leaves continuing their slow, inevitable descent. seasons were shifting again. pressures were building.
y/n kept working, but the cracks in her armor were starting to form, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
author’s note: idk TvT so here’s chapter 2.
just so y’all know, i don’t really write lengthy chapters—or at least the length is pretty inconsistent :’) i mostly just write whatever comes to mind in the moment, so i kind of just let the story decide how long each chapter ends up being.
i’d love to know what you think about this chapter! if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment and a heart. it really means a lot.
stay safe, beautiful people.
and remember, it costs you nothing to be kind.
- d. ♡