I'm on my shy Gyuvin agenda again uuuggghhh he doesn't know how to express himself!! Like he's so shy and blushy, even if you manage to get him on the couch and he seems fine for a while, hands on your hips and lips connected to yours, as soon as your mouths part and you try to look at him he'll hide his face!! Turning tomato red! Like sir you were making out with me two seconds ago???? And if you tell him exactly that, he's so embarrassed, punching your arm and mumbling excuses... It's a struggle cause you're literally so horny for him but you're worried that he doesn't want it as much as you do. Which of course isn't the case omg that man is feral for you he's just shy!!!
And I know Gyuv doesn't drink but this is for art so let's just pretend that you're somewhere together and since he has no alcohol tolerance he gets a lil tipsy... So when you get back to your apartment where the both of you are staying for the night he sits down and just stares at you. And listen, he often does but he never lets you catch him doing it cause he hates eye contact, but now he just continues to stare even when you look back at him. And now it's your turn to feel a little shy... But you muster up the courage and ask him what he's looking at, to which he answers by gripping your waist and pulls you down next to him. "I think I'm a bit drunk" Think????? You giggle at that but he just looks at you and plays with the rings on your fingers. You lean in to kiss him and his hands start to roam your body and when you have to break the kiss cause breathing is quite important actually he doesn't shy away but instead almost whimpers at the lack of contact, "You're so hot, I -shit, I really need you I think".
⌖ summary: you get stuck with your crush several feet above the ground
“Oh, look at that! You two are matching today,” Your friend teased, pointing out the similarity between your and Euijoo's blue outfits.
"It's just a coincidence that we're both wearing blue," You shrugged, discreetly stealing a glance at Euijoo's outfit. "I mean, it's just a blue cardigan and a white shirt," you added, downplaying the resemblance between your outfits.
Your friend had been playing matchmaker for a while now, insisting that Euijoo was your perfect match. Although you tried to brush it off as ridiculous, you couldn't deny that he seemed like your ideal choice both physically and in terms of personality.
However, determined to prove your friend wrong, you began to avoid Euijoo altogether. But to add to your dismay, it seemed that fate had other plans. Your friend had begun dating one of Euijoo's friends, Maki, so there was no escaping his presence, no matter what. Now, it felt like you were cursed to encounter Euijoo everywhere you went.
You were being reminded of his presence constantly, making it increasingly difficult to forget the fact that you were starting to develop feelings for him. The more you tried to avoid him, the more you found yourself drawn to him.
"It's about time! We've been waiting in line for ages!" Maki exclaimed as the six of you finally reached the front of the Ferris wheel queue.
"Maki and I can go in one. Yuma and Jo can take the second one, and-" Your friend began to assign seating arrangements, but you quickly froze in your tracks, realizing their trap.
"No, I-" You started to protest, but it was too late.
"Great idea!" Maki chimed in enthusiastically. "You and Euijoo can go into the third one together.”
You tried to hide your panic as you cast a subtle glance at Euijoo, who seemed oblivious to the situation. The thought of being alone with him in a small, enclosed space made your heart race with both excitement and dread.
"Why don't I go with Jo or Yuma?," Your attempts to escape the situation were unsuccessful as Maki playfully pushed you into the Ferris wheel cart with Euijoo.
"Nope, you and Euijoo are going together," He said cheerfully, ignoring your protests.
As the door closed with a click, sealing you and Euijoo inside the small Ferris wheel cart. You shot your friends a final glare as you silently cursed them with your eyes.
You were now trapped in the confined space with Euijoo, your heart racing as the cart started to move, slowly lifting you off the ground and bringing you higher and higher. You avoided eye contact with him as he gave you a small smile.
Euijoo's voice broke the silence, his gaze falling on your outfit. "Looks like you're a fan of blue, huh?," He commented, his eyes lingering on your blue cardigan, bag, and shoes.
"I guess so,” You responded, your eyes falling on his outfit as you noticed the blue tones in his clothes as well.
Just as you were hoping for the ride to end swiftly, the Ferris wheel abruptly came to a halt, leaving you suspended high in the air. Euijoo seemed unbothered by the sudden stop, his gaze fixed outside.
"Looks like we're stuck," He said casually.
You attempted to turn your attention away from Euijoo and look outside, only to immediately freeze as you realized just how high above ground you were. Your heart raced with fear as your mind filled with worst-case scenarios. The thought of being stranded in a small Ferris wheel cart, several feet above the ground, terrified you.
"Hey, are you alright?," He asked gently, moving closer as he leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your face. His proximity made your heart flutter even more, but his gentle tone calmed your nerves a bit.
"Um, yeah, I'm fine," You replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but your trembling voice betrayed you.
"You don't look fine," He noted, his tone gentle yet firm. "You're shaking.”
"What if we're stuck here forever?," You blurted out, your anxiety getting the better of you.
"Don't worry," Euijoo reassured you. "They'll repair the ride soon. We won't be stranded up here for long.”
Euijoo attempted to reach for your trembling hands, but you quickly withdrew them, putting distance between you and him. The gesture stung a little, but he tried to hide it.
"I-I was just trying to help. I am sorry. I forgot that you hated me," He explained, trying not to sound too hurt.
You felt guilty as Euijoo apologized, realizing he had misunderstood the reason for your rejection. "I-I don't hate you," you stuttered, feeling terrible for making him think that. "I just-”
You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. Your eyes met his, and you saw the hurt in them. "It's not that I hate you. It's just-”
Euijoo waited for you to finish with a slight frown now. "Just what?"
"It is just that all our friends have been constantly teasing us about liking each other, and I have been denying it! But now, I have realized that I actually have feelings for you, and it is so embarrassing! I don't know what to do because if I confess, they will all tease me!" You rambled on, feeling both flustered and frustrated by the entire situation.
Euijoo's jaw dropped slightly at your words. "Hold on a moment," he said, trying to process everything you just said. "Did you just say you like me?”
You fidgeted with your hands, nervously twisting the hem of your cardigan, trying to avoid eye contact with him.
"Uh, yeah," You admitted, your cheeks turning a bright shade of red. "I have been trying to hide it, but it's true. I like you.”
Euijoo stared at you for a moment, taking in the sight of your flushed face and the shy way you were avoiding his gaze. He couldn't help but find your flustered state endearing. It was a side of you that he had never seen before, and he found it adorable. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief.
"So, all this time, you have been denying your feelings and avoiding me because you didn't want our friends to tease you?," He asked with an amused smile.
"Yeah, I didn't want them to know. You know how they are. They would never let me live it down. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction,” You nodded, feeling dumb about your actions.
"You know they would have eventually figured it out, right?,” He chuckled at your admission.
"Yeah, I know," You admitted with a sheepish grin.
Euijoo couldn't help but smile at your expression. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, “I thought you hated me.”
"What? Hate you? No, not at all," You quickly denied, shaking your head. Euijoo let out a soft laugh, seeing your reaction.
"Really? Because you sure acted like it," He said with a small chuckle. "You avoided me, ignored me, and barely even spoke to me. I thought you couldn't stand me.”
You felt guilty as he pointed out your past behavior. It was true, you had been distant with him, pretending that you didn't care about him in hopes of hiding your true feelings.
"Yeah, I know I haven't been exactly warm towards you," You admitted, your voice quiet. "But it wasn't because I hated you. It was quite the opposite, actually. You don't have to like me back or anything. I would totally understand if you don't because of the way I treated you.”
“Are you kidding? I've been pining after you for months, and you think I'd just stop liking you just because you were a bit cold to me?,” He chuckled softly and shook his head.
“Wait, what do you mea-,” Your words were cut off as Euijoo cupped your cheeks and gently pressed his lips against yours, catching you completely off guard.
The kiss was soft and tender, sending a shiver down your spine. You froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the unexpected gesture. But as his lips lingered on yours, you found yourself unable to pull away, melting into the kiss.
The moment you broke apart, both of you were snapped back to reality as the Ferris wheel began to move again. The sudden jolt startled you, and you instinctively grabbed onto Euijoo's arm, steadying yourself. Euijoo let out a soft laugh, his hand still resting on your cheek.
"Looks like we're moving again," He said, his voice slightly breathless.
"Seems like the Ferris wheel was waiting for us to get our act together," You joked, still feeling a little dazed from the kiss.
As you and Euijoo exited the cart, holding hands, you heard your friends cheer.
"Finally! The lovebirds are together!" Your friend exclaimed cheerfully, making you hide behind Euijoo before they could fully start teasing you about your denial era.
Maki chuckled in agreement, nudging Euijoo playfully. "Took you two long enough," He teased.
You lock the paintball gun in place as your feet make a crunchy sound on the dry leaves and you try to go behind the wall as quietly as possible. You look around to see all your friends scattered and some are already out as you had heard from the walkie-talkie.
You knew it was a bad idea as soon as you and your friends decided to play against Ni-ki’s group, especially when he had Lee Heeseung, probably the most competitive man on the planet.
But one taunting from Ni-ki was all it had taken for you to say yes to this. You and Ni-ki have an interesting relationship. You are both competitive and you two personally get some satisfaction in beating each other, in literally everything.
So here you are, knowing that Ni-ki is somewhere out there, cursing Jungwon for missing a clean shot at you. It isn’t Jungwon’s fault, though. You are just too good and Ni-ki should just accept it.
You suddenly hear a low noise from the room you are hiding outside of and slowly crouch down and get in. You look around before entering through the door. The room is empty and you are a bit confused because you are sure you heard something.
You walk towards the wall at the heap of sacks and look beside but don’t find anything. But you feel it too soon, the shift in the air and before you can run, you turn around and are immediately cornered by Ni-ki, who gets a hold of your wrist.
“Looking for me?” he tilts his head and you back against the corner, heart thumping in your chest. He is too close, and you can feel the heat radiating off his body in this already hot room.
Ni-ki pulls off his mask, hair falling over his sweaty forehead and you whisper, “What are you doing?”
He chuckles slightly, pulling up your mask, only to expose your lips and watches your breath fall apart.
He leans in, his breath fanning your exposed face as he says, “You are winning, I don’t like you winning.” You visibly gulp at the proximity and eye his face once. You know you should push him away and run, by some chance you won’t be shot.
Instead, your mind gets the better of you as you clutch his shirt and pull him towards you, saying, “I am, because I am better than you.” A satisfaction blooms in your chest as you see his face fall at your words.
“I don’t like this,” he whispers and you shrug, feeling the victory in the mind games through and through. Although you cannot deny the tension that has built up in all these months, but this was probably the best, him being putty in your hands.
A chuckle leaves your lips but before you get to reply, he pushes you against the wall and kisses you. Your mouth catches up before your brain can and you instinctively clutch his vest for support.
The kiss is hot, messy and all tongue as months of unspoken feelings pass through it. Ni-ki kisses you like there is no tomorrow as his hands press against your waist and you tilt your head to get better access as your lips move in fervour. You whine lightly when he pulls away, chasing after him for more but he pushes your helmet back down.
“Wha-“ you stare in confusion as he backs up and shoots you point-blank in the chest.
“Out,” he adds cheerfully, a series of whistles and hoots leaving his walkie-talkie as you stand there fuming and watch a smug smile break over his face. How did he distract you this well?
“I look forward to seeing you outside the field,” he pats your arms while you pant lightly, seething in anger and to fuel it he adds, “when my team is getting the first-place prize.”
He walks out, whistling, and all you can think of is how to take revenge, and maybe the taste of his lips on yours.
ARCHV ⌗⠀، first time writing for riki, he is just a cutie patootie omg. the prompt is something i saw on a random reel but well as usual i had to tweak it a little
˃ ᵕ ˂ ⠀⠀ enha shelf ⠀navi ⠀,⠀taglist . fill this / comment / ask
The kiss is hot, messy and all tongue as months of unspoken feelings pass through it. Ni-ki kisses you like there is no tomorrow as his hands press against your waist and you tilt your head to get better access as your lips move in fervour.
You whine lightly when he pulls away, chasing after him for more but he pushes your helmet back down.
“I look forward to seeing you outside the field,” he pats your arms while you pant lightly, seething in anger and to fuel it he adds, “when my team is getting the first-place prize.”
⌖ summary: you decided to test how transfer proof your lipstick actually is on your boyfriend
Nicholas looked at you skeptically as you beamed at your new lipstick, "Sweetheart, are you sure this isn't just another scam?”.
You rolled your eyes at his concern and retorted, "I've done my research this time. I read the reviews, and everything sounds legitimate.”
"Yeah, because online reviews are always so trustworthy. One kiss and it would be gone," He teased as he crossed his arms over his chest.
You spun around to face him, giving him a playful glare as a sly thought crossed your mind.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow, sensing that something was brewing in your mind, "Oh no, I know that look. What are you plotting?”
You walked towards him on the bed, an evil yet innocent smile playing on your lips.
"You know what," You began, twirling the lipstick in your hand. "I think I have a way to put your skepticism to rest.”
Nicholas leaned back against the pillows, his gaze flickering between you and the lipstick in your hand.
"Oh, really? And how exactly do you plan to do that?", He asked with an amused look.
You crawled onto the bed, straddling him as you sat down on his lap. His hands instinctively went to your hips, holding you in place as he looked up at you with a smirk.
His breath hitched slightly as you leaned in close, the sly smile still playing on your lips. One hand rested on his chest, fingers toying with the fabric of his shirt as you held up the lipstick in front of his face.
"Simple," You replied, your voice low. "I will show you just how transfer-proof this lipstick is.”
“Alright then, show it to me,” He challenged.
"Close your eyes," You whispered as you watched his eyelids flutter shut.
A stifled giggle escaped your lips as you watched him eagerly pucker his lips, clearly expecting a kiss. But instead of giving him what he wanted, you playfully pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain there. He huffed in mock disappointment, his eyes snapping open in surprise.
“Hey! That's not fair!”, He sulked.
With an evil smile, you proceeded to shower his face with kisses, avoiding his lips at every turn. You left a trail of red lipstick marks all over his cheeks, forehead, nose and chin.
"You're leaving lipstick marks everywhere but where I want them the most!”, He protested, letting out a chuckle at your behaviour.
"And where do you want them?", You teased with an innocent smile, making him roll his eyes at your antics.
“You know exactly where I want them," He huffed, gesturing towards his lips.
"Oh, here?", You teased, deliberately planting a kiss on the corner of his lips, just barely missing the mark.
Your teasing was cut short when Nicholas suddenly took control, grabbing your face in his hands and crashing his lips against yours. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer against him as his mouth moved hungrily against yours, and the lipstick that once adorned your mouth now left a messy, smudged trace on his own.
He leaned back against the pillows, pulling you with him as his hands roamed over your body. You were both breathless when you finally pulled away, and your lips were slick with smeared lipstick.
"Still think it's transfer proof?", He taunted, his fingers reaching out to wipe away the smeared lipstick at the corner of your mouth.
“Maybe, we can try it on another canvas?", You suggested, your fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt as you continued to press small kisses along his jawline.
plot- a study date. sure that sounds normal when you have a project worth 50% of your grade and you are paired with your bsf, whom you have a teeny tiny crush on and coincidently so does he....
pairing- bsf!sanghyeon!×bsf!fem!reader!
genre and cw- 3.8k words, bestfriends, college au, crushes, sanghyeon is our smiley boy, sarcasm, fluff, reader is flustered very easily, project completion, lots of business talk....
note- finally a cute fic for sanghyeon.... sorry it took a while, i had to brainstorm a lot to make this fic....
Professor Kang’s voice, a low rumble even through the lecture hall’s robust sound system, sliced through the last vestiges of your Friday afternoon haze. “This project, as I’ve iterated throughout the semester, comprises fifty percent of your final grade. Choose your partners wisely. Or, in this case,” he paused, a thin smile stretching his lips, “I’ve chosen for you.” A ripple of groans swept through the room, quickly stifled by his unwavering stare. Your stomach dipped. Fifty percent. Your entire academic future, or at least your GPA, hinged on this.
He began listing names, a monotonous rhythm. “kim minji and park joon. lee hana and choi daesung.” Each pairing felt like a hammer blow to your carefully constructed academic plans. You needed someone reliable, someone smart, someone who wouldn’t just stare blankly when you suggested a multivariate analysis.
“y/n, and chung sanghyeon.”
Your head snapped up, eyes darting to the seat a few rows ahead. sanghyeon, already turning, a wide grin breaking across his face. Relief, bright and dizzying, washed over you. sanghyeon. Your best friend. The human embodiment of a sunbeam. This wasn’t just good, it was perfect. You could practically hear your GPA breathing a sigh of relief.
He waited for you by the exit, leaning against the doorframe, that familiar smile already in place. His eyes, crinkling at the corners, met yours.
“Kang, huh?” he said, pushing off the wall, falling into step beside you. The late afternoon sun caught the slight wave in his dark hair.
“The one and only,” you replied, a smile tugging at your own lips. “Fifty percent, sanghyeon. This is it. Our magnum opus.”
He chuckled, a warm, easy sound. “No pressure, right? So, y/n, when are we making this academic magic happen?”
You considered it, your mind already sifting through your schedule. Your house was quiet, your parents out for the weekend. Perfect. No distractions. Well, fewer distractions.
“My place?” you offered, glancing at him. “Parents are gone. Total peace and quiet. We can tackle this beast head-on.”
His smile widened, a genuine, delighted flash that made something flutter in your chest. It always did. His smile was like a physical entity, capable of brightening even the gloomiest of days. You didn’t just like his smile; you loved it. It was a secret, quiet thing, tucked away in a corner of your heart, a tiny, persistent hum.
“Your place? Even better,” he said, his voice light. “I’ll bring snacks. Brain food. We’ll need it. When works?”
“How about tomorrow? Around two? We can aim for four hours. Get a solid chunk done.”
“Two it is,” he confirmed, giving you a quick, enthusiastic nod. “See you then, y/n. Don’t start without me.”
You waved him off, a lightness in your step that had nothing to do with the looming project and everything to do with the prospect of spending four uninterrupted hours with him.
The next day, you meticulously tidied your living room, arranging cushions, clearing the coffee table of stray magazines. You even brewed a fresh pot of herbal tea, something you rarely did. The doorbell chimed precisely at two. You took a deep breath, smoothing the front of your sweater, and pulled it open.
sanghyeon stood there, a paper bag clutched in one hand, a wide grin already in place. He wore a faded band t-shirt and jeans, looking effortlessly comfortable. The afternoon sun, streaming through the open door, seemed to halo him.
“Hey, y/n,” he said, stepping inside, a faint scent of something sweet trailing after him. “Punctuality is key, right? Especially when fifty percent of our grade is at stake.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you agreed, closing the door behind him. “Come in, come in. The academic sanctuary awaits.” You gestured grandly towards the living room. “I even made tea. Fancy, right?”
He peered into the living room, eyes sweeping over the tidied space. “Wow, y/n. This is… pristine. Did you vacuum for me?” His voice held a playful lilt.
“Of course not,” you scoffed, though a faint blush warmed your cheeks. “This is my natural state of being. Neat, organized, ready for intellectual discourse.” You gestured to the coffee table. “Project space. Let’s get our brains in gear.”
He set the paper bag down, a crinkle of cellophane audible. “Snack delivery. Essential for prolonged brain activity. I’ve got honey butter chips, some fruit jellies, and… ta-da!” He pulled out a small, colorful box. “Pocky. The classic study aid.”
“Pocky? sanghyeon, you’re a genius,” you said, picking up the box, a genuine laugh escaping you. “My brain cells are already feeling more motivated.” You met his gaze, and for a beat, the air felt a little thicker, a little warmer. His smile, as always, was disarmingly bright.
“Alright, Professor Kang’s ‘Ethical Dilemmas in Post-Industrial Societies’,” you announced, clapping your hands together. “Where do we even begin with this existential crisis?” You pulled out your laptop, opening it to a blank document.
He settled onto the couch, pulling his own laptop from his backpack. “Well, he did say we needed to pick a contemporary ethical dilemma. Something… juicy.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, a thoughtful expression on his face. “What’s the juiciest ethical dilemma you can think of right now, y/n?”
You tapped your pen against your chin, pretending to ponder deeply. “Hmm. Is it ethically sound for me to consume this entire box of Pocky before we’ve even written a single sentence?” You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in your eye.
He threw his head back, a loud, clear laugh filling the room. “That, y/n, is a dilemma for the ages. I say, yes. Absolutely. Fuel the brain, then conquer the world.” He pushed the bag of chips towards you. “Chips, too. Don’t be shy.”
“You’re a bad influence, sanghyeon,” you accused, though you were already reaching for the chips. The salty crunch filled the brief silence. “Okay, seriously. AI ethics? Climate change responsibility? Data privacy?”
“All good, all very… academic,” he mused, picking up a Pocky stick. He chewed thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the ceiling. “But what about something a little less… textbook? Something that makes you actually feel the dilemma?”
You considered his words, a small frown creasing your forehead. “Feel the dilemma? Like, emotionally? Are we writing a paper or a tragic play?”
He grinned. “Why not both? Imagine the impact. Professor Kang would be floored. He’d probably give us extra credit just for the sheer audacity.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “What about… the ethics of a best friend secretly harboring a crush on another best friend?”
Your breath hitched. The chip in your hand suddenly felt like a lead weight. Your cheeks flushed, a heat spreading across your face. You stared at him, your mind a blank canvas. Did he know? Could he possibly know?
He watched your reaction, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, then he laughed, a loud, boisterous sound that broke the spell.
“Kidding! Mostly. Though that is a brainrot thought, isn’t it? The sheer awkwardness. The internal turmoil. Imagine the paper.”
You let out a shaky laugh, forcing it out. “Oh, right. Brainrot. Definitely brainrot. For a second there, I thought you were proposing we write a romantic comedy script.” You tried to sound casual, but your heart hammered against your ribs. The relief was immense, but a pang of something else, something akin to disappointment, followed close behind.
“A rom-com paper? Now that’s an idea,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. “But I think Professor Kang might prefer something a little more… academic. Unless,” he paused, leaning back, a thoughtful expression on his face, “unless the ethical dilemma is whether to act on the crush, knowing it could ruin a perfectly good friendship?”
You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. He was looking at you, really looking, and for a moment, you felt completely exposed. “That’s… that’s a heavy one, sanghyeon,” you managed, your voice a little breathy. “Very heavy. Perhaps too heavy for a Friday afternoon.” You quickly changed the subject. “What about the ethics of online anonymity leading to unchecked cyberbullying? That’s pretty contemporary.”
He tilted his head, considering. “Hmm, good point. Anonymity. The digital veil. It’s got layers. We could talk about the responsibility of platforms, the psychological impact on victims, the blurred lines between free speech and harm.” He picked up a pen, twirling it between his fingers. “Okay, I like it. We’ll call it: ‘The Digital Shadow: Unmasking the Ethics of Online Anonymity and Its Consequences’.”
“Catchy,” you conceded, a genuine smile returning to your face, the earlier awkwardness slowly dissipating. “You’re good at titles, sanghyeon. My titles usually sound like a robot wrote them.”
“It’s a gift,” he said, puffing out his chest dramatically. “A gift I generously bestow upon our joint academic endeavors.” He leaned forward, tapping his pen against his laptop screen. “So, for an intro, we need to hook Professor Kang. Something that makes him sit up and pay attention.”
“What about starting with a hypothetical scenario?” you suggested, feeling more grounded now that you were back on solid academic footing. “Imagine a world where words have no faces, where identities are cloaked, and consequences… are merely a distant echo.”
He snapped his fingers. “Ooh, I like that. Very dramatic. Very you, y/n. Always with the flair.” He started typing, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “Okay, so we set the scene. Then we introduce the core dilemma: the tension between freedom of expression and the potential for harm in anonymous online spaces.”
You watched him type, the focused line of his jaw, the way his brow furrowed slightly when he concentrated. A small, familiar warmth spread through your chest. He was smart, articulate, and he made even Professor Kang’s most daunting assignments feel… manageable. And he had that smile. Always that smile.
“And we need to bring in some philosophical frameworks,” you added, pulling out a notebook. “Deontology, utilitarianism, virtue ethics… how do each of these lenses view the responsibility of online actors?”
“Right, the heavy hitters,” he agreed, pausing his typing to look at you. “You’re the expert on the philosophical jargon, y/n. I’m more of a… conceptualizer. I lay the groundwork, you build the intricate intellectual scaffolding.” He winked.
“Oh, is that how we’re defining our roles?” you teased, a playful glint in your eye. “I’m the architect, you’re the… idea guy who brings snacks?”
He laughed, a rich, full sound. “Precisely! A crucial role, mind you. Without snacks, the architect falters. The scaffolding crumbles. It’s a symbiotic relationship, really.” He reached for a fruit jelly. “Want one? They’re strangely addictive.”
You took a jelly, the sweet, chewy burst of flavor a welcome distraction. “Okay, architect and snack-provider. I can work with that.” You chewed thoughtfully. “So, for the utilitarian perspective, it would be about maximizing overall well-being, right? Does anonymity truly serve the greater good, or does it enable more harm than benefit?”
“Exactly,” he affirmed, nodding vigorously. “And deontology would focus on the inherent moral duties. Do we have a duty to reveal our identities, or a duty to protect our privacy? It gets messy.” He leaned back, stretching his arms above his head, his t-shirt riding up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned stomach. You quickly averted your gaze, feeling that familiar blush creep up your neck again.
“Messy is good,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly. “Messy means there’s a lot to unpack. Lots of words. Lots of… fifty percent of our grade.”
He lowered his arms, a small smile playing on his lips. He hadn’t seemed to notice your momentary fluster. “You’re right. Messy means depth. Professor Kang loves depth. He thrives on it.” He picked up his phone, checking the time. “We’ve been at this for, what, an hour? We’re flying. This is good, y/n.”
“We are,” you agreed, feeling a genuine sense of accomplishment. “Teamwork makes the dream work, sanghyeon.”
He chuckled. “Such a cliché, y/n. I thought we were avoiding those?”
“It’s a classic for a reason!” you defended, playfully nudging his arm.
“Besides, sometimes the clichés are true. We actually make a really good team.” You meant it. You always felt a unique synergy when you worked with him, a comfortable rhythm that made even the most daunting tasks seem enjoyable.
“We do,” he said, his voice softer now, his eyes meeting yours. “We really do.” The air thickened again, a quiet hum settling between you. His smile was still there, but it was different now, less boisterous, more gentle. And for a moment, you swore you saw something in his eyes, a mirroring of the secret flutter in your own chest.
“Okay, back to the grind,” you said, breaking the gaze, a nervous energy making you reach for your laptop. “Let’s outline the main body paragraphs. We need a strong argument for each philosophical perspective.”
He nodded, but his eyes lingered on you for another beat before he turned back to his screen. “Right. Main body. The meat of the argument.” He typed for a moment, then paused, looking at his screen. “You know, I was thinking. For the conclusion, we can’t just summarize. We need to leave Professor Kang with something to chew on.”
“A call to action?” you suggested. “Or a new, even more complex ethical dilemma that arises from our solution?”
“Even better,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “What if we propose a ‘digital citizenship’ framework? A set of ethical guidelines for online interaction, almost like a social contract for the internet.”
“sanghyeon, that’s brilliant!” you exclaimed, genuinely impressed. “That elevates it beyond just analysis. It’s a proactive solution. Professor Kang would eat that up.” You leaned forward, excitement bubbling. “We could even suggest a multi-stakeholder approach – individuals, tech companies, governments – all playing a role.”
He beamed, his smile reaching his eyes, crinkling them at the corners. “See? This is why we’re a good team. You take my half-baked ideas and turn them into gourmet meals.”
“And you provide the delicious ingredients,” you countered, a warmth spreading through you. Being praised by him always felt particularly good. You found yourself staring at his smile again, that easy, open expression that always seemed to invite you in.
“Speaking of gourmet meals,” he said, reaching for the Pocky box again, “I think our brains need another sugar infusion. We’ve been intensely ethical for over an hour now.”
You laughed, taking a stick from him. “Intensely ethical. I like that. It sounds exhausting.”
“It is,” he agreed, munching on his Pocky. “All this moral wrestling. It takes a toll.” He leaned back against the couch, his arm brushing yours. A jolt, small but unmistakable, went through you. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the rhythmic crunch of your snack.
“So, what’s your take on the ultimate ethical dilemma, sanghyeon?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, to shift the focus away from the sudden proximity. “If you had to pick one, the single most challenging ethical problem facing humanity right now, what would it be?”
He thought for a moment, his gaze distant, his expression serious. “Hmm. That’s a tough one. Probably… finding a way to truly understand and empathize with people who hold fundamentally different worldviews. Without that, all other ethical dilemmas just devolve into shouting matches.” He looked at you, his eyes earnest. “What about you, y/n?”
You considered his answer, a thoughtful hum escaping you. It was a profound answer, one that reflected his inherent kindness. “Mine… probably balancing individual freedom with collective responsibility. Where do you draw the line? When does my right to do X infringe on the well-being of everyone else?” You paused, then added, a little softer, “It’s a line we struggle with every day, isn’t it?”
He nodded slowly. “Every single day. Especially online.” He looked at his watch again. “Wow, time flies when you’re solving the world’s problems. We’ve hit the two-hour mark already.”
“Seriously?” you said, surprised. It really had flown by. The initial awkwardness had faded, replaced by the comfortable, easy camaraderie you usually shared. And something more, something unspoken, a current running just beneath the surface.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Maybe we should take a quick break. Stretch our legs. Recharge the brain batteries.” He pushed himself up, offering you a hand.
You took it, his fingers warm and strong around yours. The contact lingered for a moment longer than necessary. “Good idea,” you said, pulling yourself up, a faint blush returning. “My brain cells are starting to feel a little… over-ethicized.”
He chuckled, releasing your hand. “Mine too. I think I’ve reached my daily quota of moral quandaries.” He walked over to your bookshelf, scanning the titles. “You have some interesting books here, y/n. ‘The Phenomenology of Perception’? You actually read this?” He pulled out a thick, intimidating volume.
“Of course,” you said, trying to sound casual, though you had only ever skimmed it for a philosophy class. “A classic. You should try it sometime. Really gets the neurons firing.”
He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his face. “Oh, I’m sure. But I think my neurons are currently firing exclusively for honey butter chips.” He gestured to the open bag on the coffee table.
You laughed, a genuine, unrestrained sound. “Fair enough. I think mine are too.” You walked into the kitchen, reaching for the kettle. “More tea? Or water, if you’ve had enough of my fancy herbal concoctions.”
“Water sounds good,” he called from the living room. “My brain needs to hydrate after all that deep thinking.”
You filled two glasses with water, the clinking of ice cubes a small, domestic sound. You carried them back into the living room. Sang-hyeon was still by the bookshelf, his back to you, silently reading the spine of a book.
“Here you go,” you said, handing him a glass.
He turned, taking the glass, his fingers brushing yours again. This time, the contact felt less like a jolt and more like a gentle current, a quiet acknowledgment of the space between you. He smiled, a soft, almost tender expression.
“Thanks, y/n,” he said, his voice a little lower than before. He took a long drink, his gaze still on you over the rim of the glass.
You felt your cheeks warm again. You took a sip of your own water, trying to compose yourself. This was your best friend. This was just a study date. A very high-stakes study date.
“We’ve got about two hours left,” you said, forcing yourself to sound business-like. “We should probably nail down the structure for the body paragraphs and assign who’s writing what.”
He nodded, setting his glass down. “Good plan. Let’s get back to it. The future of online ethics awaits.” He sat back down on the couch, pulling his laptop closer.
The next hour passed in a blur of intense discussion, outlining, and rapid-fire idea generation. You debated the nuances of digital responsibility, the limits of platform accountability, and the ever-shifting landscape of online identity. You found yourselves finishing each other’s sentences, bouncing ideas off one another with an easy synchronicity. It was exhilarating, challenging, and deeply satisfying.
“Okay, so I’ll take the utilitarian and deontological sections,” you declared, stretching your arms above your head. “And you can handle the virtue ethics and the proposed digital citizenship framework. How does that sound?”
He leaned back, a triumphant grin on his face. “Sounds like a solid plan, y/n. We’re going to crush this. Professor Kang won’t know what hit him.” He checked his watch again. “And just like that, four hours. Right on schedule. We’re productivity machines.”
“We are,” you agreed, a sense of accomplishment swelling within you. You had done it. You had made significant progress on a terrifyingly important project. And you had spent four hours with sanghyeon, navigating the delicate dance of friendship and unspoken feelings.
He started packing up his laptop, tucking it carefully into his backpack. “Thanks for having me over, y/n. And for the fancy tea. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Anytime, sanghyeon,” you said, a genuine warmth in your voice. “Seriously. We should do this again for the next phase.”
He paused, his backpack half-zipped, and looked at you. His smile was back, that bright, infectious grin that always made your heart do a little flip. But there was something else in his eyes too, a glint of something shy, something hopeful.
“I’d like that,” he said, his voice softer than before. “A lot, actually.” He finished zipping his bag, then picked up the empty Pocky box. “I’ll take the trash out.”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you protested, but he was already heading for the kitchen.
He returned a moment later, pausing by the front door. “So, for the digital citizenship framework,” he began, a thoughtful expression on his face, “we should probably include a section on the ethics of honesty. Like, the moral obligation to be transparent, even when it’s uncomfortable.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden philosophical tangent. “Honesty? Even when it’s… uncomfortable?”
He nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Especially then, I think. Because sometimes, the truth, even an awkward one, is better than unspoken feelings that just… linger.” He held your gaze, and the air crackled with a new, intense energy. His smile was still there, but it was different now, a question in its curve.
You swallowed, your heart thumping a frantic rhythm against your ribs. He was talking about the project. He had to be. And yet… the way he was looking at you, the intensity in his eyes…
“Right,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “Honesty. Transparency. Good points. We’ll definitely add that.” You took a deep breath. “So, I guess I’ll see you Monday, then? To compare our written sections?”
He nodded, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, by your front door, that enigmatic smile on his face, his eyes still holding yours. The afternoon light, softer now, cast a warm glow around him.
“See you Monday, y/n,” he said, his voice a low, warm rumble. He hesitated for another beat, then, with a final, lingering smile that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words, he turned and opened the door.
He stepped out, and the door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet living room, the scent of honey butter chips and Pocky faintly lingering in the air. You stood there for a long moment, your heart still racing, a slow, dawning realization spreading through you. He had been talking about the project. Of course, he had. But he had also been talking about something else entirely. And for the first time, you wondered if that secret, quiet hum in your chest wasn’t quite as secret as you thought. And maybe, just maybe, he felt it too.
You can swear you are the definition of bad luck, even if you start the day by knocking on wood. Or maybe you are just a hopeless romantic. If you ask Maki, he will laugh at your face and probably say both.
Your bad luck proves itself when you trip over literal air while walking to the kitchen. A curse leaves your lips as you hold the doorframe to steady yourself and you look around to see the apartment being empty.
As if on cue, the door opens and Maki comes in with a bag of groceries in his hand. “What’s up? Did you trip on air again?” he laughs as he opens his jacket and you scoff at him, not answering, hence proving him correct.
“I have told you to be careful,” he says lightly as he places the bag down at the kitchen counter and you roll your eyes at him and shrug. You have never told him this but you genuinely believe that him being around removes all your bad luck.
You weren’t all too superstitious but him being around just made your day better in general. You might also be a little in love with him but that is a door you refuse to even approach.
Which is why later, when he retires to his room, you find yourself quietly counting the already dried-up petals of the daisies he brought home the other day. He came in and handed it straight to you and claimed it was just for decoration, completely ignoring how stupidly that made your heart beat.
You make sure he is inside when you start counting. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me-
And to your immense bad luck, it ends at a ‘he loves me not.’ You shrug but do end up throwing the daisies in the bin, a little harder than necessary. You walk away and step on something that immediately makes you lose your balance and it sends a sharp pain through your leg.
“What the fuck?” you screech and maybe it is comedic timing how Maki instantly opens his room door and comes running towards you. His hands grip your elbows in order to steady you, even though you weren’t falling and you look down to see the culprit- a Lego piece.
“Lego?” you ask in pure confusion as you look back at him, his arms still holding you and a sheepish laugh leaves his throat.
“I was making something last night and one of the pieces might have gotten away, sorry,” he says, genuinely sorry for it, so you just nod lightly, muttering a ‘fine’ under your breath.
“With my luck, even if you weren’t playing, it would still somehow be under my feet,” you murmur as he slowly releases your arms. He slaps your shoulder gently and you look up and ask, “What?”
“You are not bad luck, I have told you that many times,” he says as he bends down to pick up the Lego piece. When he gets up his face is suddenly inches away from yours and he is also hyper-aware of the proximity.
You, on the other hand, are oblivious as you continue without even looking at him, “I literally found this apartment vacancy because the flyer flew to my face and I almost got run over by a bicycle.”
The words fly past his ears as he just stares at you, not even trying to hide that he is. From this distance, he can see your lashes, the colour of your eyes, and the dramatic movement of your lips as you explain the day it happened.
“Otherwise, you wouldn’t have found the apartment,” he does reply, still hearing every word you say, although his mind is completely on your face now and how adorable you look when you complain.
“That too,” you pause for a moment thinking and then continue, “but you cannot deny how I tripped over my shoelaces when I came to see it, oh my god that was beyond embarrassing, having your new roommate catch you.”
Maki smiles, his dimples showing as he finally straightens a little and he speaks before he thinks, “Yeah, I think I fell in love with you then and there.” His smile disappears as soon as the sentence leaves his lips and your head whips around at alarming speed as you stare at him, eyes wide open.
"I mean-" he starts but the words die on his throat when he sees your eyes locked into his and your lips parted in shock and the only thought that enters his mind is to kiss you.
After a painfully awkward moment, you croak out, “You love me?” There is no way that he loves you because that is crazy. Maki is attractive and capable of getting much smarter and better partners; he would never fall for someone who trips over their own feet every day.
“Forget I said that, please, I don’t know what I was thinking, I even had an elaborate plan to confess properly,” he squeaks, unable to look at you now that the realisation finally sets in on him.
“You wanted to confess to me?” you ask, voice higher-pitched than you would like and Maki groans into his hands, nodding aggressively. This was not the plan; the plan was to take you out on a date, spoil you and then probably say something along the lines of ‘like.’
Not ‘love’. You will probably move out tomorrow and block him everywhere while he dies single because he couldn’t control his stupid mouth and was too busy admiring you.
You giggle a little when you see him still not removing his hands from his face. You wrap your fingers around his wrists and gently pry them down. It is your turn to laugh as you see how red he is. He groans lightly but makes no attempt to actually fight you as he murmurs, “Stop laughing, okay.”
“Okay,” you actually laugh now as you interlock your fingers with his. You smile wider when you feel his fingers tightening around yours and a small gasp leaves his lips when you lean and press a kiss on his cheek. He opens one eye to look at you and you say, “What? Okay, fine, maybe I fell in love with you too.”
His eyes open properly now as he lightly bounces in happiness and he asks, “Wait for real?” You nod in answer and he hugs you almost immediately, holding you tightly as you wrap your arms around his neck.
You part after a while as he shamelessly checks out your lips and you roll your eyes and say, “Yes!” Maki presses his lips to yours, soft lips engulfing yours in a second and you kiss him back in fervour as your fingers thread through his hair lightly. Your lips move against each other and you sigh when you feel him smile into the kiss. This is your first kiss, but you love how it feels as if you have done it a thousand times already.
When you part, you both laugh again as you poke his dimple and press a kiss to it. Maki shuts his eyes together as his head falls into the crook of your neck, and you laugh at how shy he is, and you wonder how you got so lucky.
Maybe you two just make your own luck!
ARCHV ⠀ ⌗⠀، ok maybe, i like maki a little too much can we please not stay at the point. he is the cutest omg i love him i love him i love himmm. also this was the song that originally got me to write the series so i was pretty excited for it to end it with.
´ ᵕ ` ⠀⠀ &team shelf ⠀navi ⠀,⠀taglist . fill this / comment / ask
Anxin, Geonwoo and Arno as spiderman. I mean all of ald1 but THOSE 3
what an insanely cool concept!! i only watched a single spiderman movie and saw him in infinity war & endgame so i hope this isnt off but i try to go for the youthful, charming & funny image spiderman displays.
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anxin
he‘d adapt to this new life very quick and once he gets the hang of his abilities, it‘ll seem like he was born to save people. while keeping up with his responsibilities, he just can‘t help but allow himself to do some cool stuff it. whether that is swinging through the city for a "patrol", absolutely not enjoying the gasps of females when he passes by and their flustered faces when he gives them a cool nod of acknowledgement. or hanging up side down from the wall, surprising his crush whom he shares this secret with. flirting just seems to work even better when you can blame the blood rushing to your head for the blush on your cheeks. anxin would be the ideal super hero with his calm demenor, his brain always making out the fastest solution to help on spot. however, the fastest solution isn‘t always the safest, causing him to occasionally wreck entire streets to save a cat.
geonwoo
geonwoo had always had a strong sense of aiding people in need. so being a super hero in disguise is something he takes very seriously from the day of realization. even when he‘s sitting at a café, in the middle of reading a new book his body just seems to have developed a separate intuition for danger. amongst the crowd of busy people crossing the street, his eyes easily spot the pick-pocket, walking suspiciously close to an elder woman who he obviously didn‘t know. the thief could only brush his finger on the woman‘s wallet before geonwoo spiderman had his wrists wrapped in a tie of sticky webs. people around them started clapping and the shy hero was about to leave the scene as soon as possible when the grandma‘s grandchild came up beside her, thanking geonwoo with the most sincere smile that had his heart skipping a beat underneath his costume.
arno
just like geonwoo, arno is not fond of boasting his skills. he always makes sure to leave the crime scene clean and quietly, only leaving his signature pattern of web on the next wall nearby behind. arno may not be a show-off but he takes pride in his work and he wouldn‘t want to be discredited for his duties that were characterized by the least bloodshed, just a quick and non-dramatic solving of problems. there was only one person that could get his temper up. resting on the roof of a building, arno took a quick rest before making his way back home. only then he spotted them. his special someone, being harassed by a person in the middle of the night. he moved before he could even think, a string of the nastiest, stickiest spiderwebs wrapping around the predators neck as he pulled them close to his face. "lay one more hand on this person and i‘ll tighten this up." he hissed, the victim sank to their knees. arno immediately turned around but his crush stood in the way the second he intended to leave. "thank you! you‘re truly amazing, spiderman." yeah, spiderman was indeed amazing.
younger bf headcanons for sanghyeon plz 😞 (no nsfw ofc) i feel like he'd be soooo playful to be around And he gets easily sulky when you tease him for being cute
there's almost little to none content for my baby goat im dy!ng of thirst 🤡
sanghyeon my most favorite big baby ㅠㅠ i have the softest spot for him 🤍
thank you so much for requesting! i hope you enjoy <3 (we really do need more sanghyeon content !! ive probably been through all on this platform already..)
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younger boyfriend sanghyeon - literally the picture book of boyfriend for the noonas/hyungs.
sanghyeon would never ever ever lose the spark for his partner. every date with him would feel like the first. he‘s always the one to show up first (a dream for me - i hate people who are late), probably bringing flowers to every second one. the butterflies in his stomach cannot be hidden. whenever he looks up, spotting you in the crowd of people, walking up to him and waving to him, he waves back excitingly, the widest, cutest smile plastered on his face. he can‘t stop beaming in your presence.
it doesn‘t really matter if you had your firsts taken already or if he had his firsts taken already. your first hand-holding, cuddle session, sleep-over and kiss would hold the most meaning to sanghyeon and are the only things that matter. the type of anniversary gift he‘d prepare is a photoalbum with pictures of his most favorite moments (he had a hard time dedicing and got 5 mental break downs bc everything did not fit inside the album). whether it is the receipt to your first dinner that he bought you, tickets to the ferris wheel you rode together, hell even the box of the cake you bought him for his birthday. sanghyeon will treasure it all and junk-journal it into the photoalbum.
sanghyeon is a very clingy person. if you watched b2p or the tons of ald1 content that is being released, you can easily tell so. saying goodbye after a day together was already hard enough. whenever you try to walk off, he will not let go of your hand, instead pulling you back and whining "i just can‘t let you go. it seems like our hands are glued together!". and once he managed to magically remove the glue because he‘ll miss his last busride home , not even 10 minutes pass till your phone rings and the caller id says "baby 🍮💛".
sleep-overs with boyfriend sanghyeon would be the funniest, softest, lovliest & warmest experienced ever and your most favorite thing to do (also his .. bc he doesn‘t have to say goodbye after dinner). you‘d spend the evening playing board games, switching to video games with you nestled in his embrace between his legs, his hearty laughers ringing through your ear, sending waves of happiness through your body as youre pressed against him. sanghyeon would always insist on another round, one more movie or one more cup of hot chocolate but once you return from your toilet break after giving in, you will most likely find him asleep, sprawled across your own bed.
he lies diagonally across the whole mattress. but his arm is always spread, marking the space for you to lay on - just where you belong to.
i could honestly go on forever. i‘d love to write a more specific one too, so if you have any ideas lmk. <3
⌖ pairing: chung sanghyeon as your regular customer who has a crush on you
⌖ word count: 878
⌖ summary: you realise that your cute regular customer might have a crush on you
Your sister smirked beside you, teasingly elbowing you in the side, “Your number one fan is back.”
"Or maybe he is just a customer who happens to really love sweets. That's all," You rolled your eyes at her as you glanced over your shoulder to see the boy sitting down at the usual seat near the window. You quickly looked away, pretending not to care.
“His mom owns a café, you know. If he truly had a sweet tooth, he could go to his mom's place instead of coming here every day,” She pointed out, leaning against the counter as she stared at him from across the room.
Your sister's words made you freeze in your tracks for a moment as you processed the information. "Wait, his mom owns a café?", You asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.
Your sister nodded, her grin growing even wider, “Yeah, apparently they're quite famous for their desserts. But for some reason, your fan boy prefers to come here to see you instead.”
You knew she was right. There was a perfectly good café owned by his mom just down the street. So why did he keep coming here instead?
Your curiosity piqued, but you tried to play it off casually. "Maybe he just likes our desserts better," You said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.
Despite your attempt to feign indifference, your eyes betrayed your interest, and you couldn't help but steal another glance in his direction. Your heart fluttered as the thought crossed your mind.
Your sister shook her head, clearly not buying it, "Or maybe he just likes admiring the pretty girl behind the counter.”
"You are delusional. He's just a regul—"
Your sister rolled her eyes, cutting you off, "Just go and take his order. He is probably waiting for you to grace him with your presence.”
Your heartbeat quickened as you realized that you would have to approach him and take his order. Trying to keep a casual expression on your face, you turned to your sister and sighed, "Fine, I'll go take his order.”
You felt your defenses weakening the moment you saw his endearing c-type smile and sparkling eyes. As you met his gaze, you plastered on a friendly smile, trying to steady your racing heart, "Hi there, what can I get for you today?”
His bright expression only widened as he looked up at you like he had been waiting all day just to see you, "A blueberry lemonade and pistachio cheesecake, please.”
"Okay, one blueberry lemonade and pistachio cheesecake coming right up," You said, scribbling down his order. "Anything else?”
Your sister's voice piped up from behind you, causing both you and your fan boy to freeze. "Perhaps her number?", She suggested slyly, making you whip your head towards her in mortification as you plead with your eyes for her to shut up.
You shot her a subtle glare, silently warning her to behave. "Ignore her," you muttered to him apologetically, "She is delusional and has no filter.”
Just when you thought the awkwardness had peaked, he leaned in slightly and added, "Can I have that too?”
His head tilted just enough to make your breath hitch. Your mind short-circuited for a solid three seconds as you stared at him, trying to process his words.
"You... you want what exactly?", You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden racing of your heart.
He chuckled at your flustered reaction, his playful smile widening. "Your number," He admitted boldly, "Along with the lemonade and cheesecake, of course.”
He was really asking for your number?
"My number?", You repeated dumbly, still holding the notepad close like a shield. The way he looked at you, the way he casually asked for your number. It felt too much. He had no right to be this effortlessly attractive while you were actively malfunctioning.
He chuckled at your silence, his amusement only growing at your flustered reaction. "Your number," He reiterated slowly, enunciating the word as if you somehow missed the initial request.
He snatched your notepad with ease, scribbling down his number before you could even open your mouth to speak. You tried to hide your flustered expression, but it was a lost cause.
He looked down at the page, where you had written "Puppy" next to his order, and crossed it out as he gave you a small grin that screamed, “I saw that,” before replacing it with his name, “Sanghyeon.”
He handed the notebook back to you, his smile softening into something more shy as his eyes met yours.
"Here you go," He said quietly, pushing it toward your hands. "You can have my number instead. I am Chung Sanghyeon, and I really like you.”
“It is really nice to meet you, Sanghyeon,” You finally let out a coherent response as you tried to pull yourself together.
Your sister chose that very moment to stroll up with his order, complete with a puppy-shaped cookie on the side.
"I'll take that as you will be practically living at this café from now on?", She teased as Sanghyeon chuckled shyly at her words.
“If it means I get to see her again, then of course,” He replied smoothly as he picked up the cookie.
You and Nakakita Yuma were A-list actors who always headbutt one way or another. It was a famous rivalry, the celebrity enemies, as everyone loved to call it. Some called it a PR stunt but in reality, it was a PR headache.
Yuma has always been annoying but it was one particular night at an afterparty where he found it was especially amusing to rub it in your face that you had lost an award. You had been quieter than usual, trying to ignore him but he could not take a hint even if it was thrown at his face.
So, you snapped and told him to shut up. That was it, two words, and how it should have ended. How it should not have ended is when he smiled right back and said, “Make me.” You had found yourself tangled in the sheets with him, hands in his hair, kissing him and him marking your body.
At least it effectively shut him up!
That is how the vicious cycle started: you two attend the same parties, whether after an award or by mutual friends, and you end up tangled in the sheets of some high-end hotel or in the back of a car. It was scandalous for both of your careers, but Yuma had always been known for not giving a fuck and somehow that had rubbed off on you.
You only went along because the sex was great, right after the argument. At least that is what you keep telling yourself every time. You know you shouldn’t do this, you shouldn’t be lying to your managers and you shouldn’t be sneaking out like teenagers but the idea of having some private moment away from the public eye felt so satisfying.
Also, Yuma was a great company when he actually shut up and focused on something, that something being you! He doesn’t forget to argue, though, even in the middle, and you argue back, because that is who you are, definitely still enemies.
Enemies who are sleeping with each other. For three months now. It is a miracle you two haven’t been exposed by the media.
Tonight is no exception, as you see his wandering eyes from across the room. You do not feel great tonight; you just came because the host, Nicholas, would full-on sulk if you didn’t. You down your drink, hoping the feeling will go away.
Across the room, Yuma scrunches his nose just a little, carefully observing your features. You are tense, more than usual and you are giving your service smile to every single person talking to you. He sees your fingers twitch around the glass when your manager gives you a look of confusion.
In long strides, Yuma crosses the room and swiftly snatches the drink out of your hand before downing it. “Excuse me?” you glare at him and he just shrugs as he puts the glass down.
“The grapes would have fermented again by the time you were taking to drink that,” he smirks lightly, his snaggletooth evilly peeking out of his lips. You take a deep breath before reminding yourself that strangling someone is, in fact, illegal.
Yuma doesn’t let you speak, though, as he instantly says, “Want to ditch and get some of the night air?” You visibly roll your eyes as you shake your head to a ‘No.’ The evening was already tiring and the last thing you need right now is him being cocky while eating you out.
Yuma’s face contorts for half a second before he catches himself and continues, “No, I actually meant getting some fresh air.”
“When did you become so nice?” you reply without missing a beat and he snickers as his fingers wrap around your wrists and slightly guide you through the crowd.
“Won’t people notice we are gone?” you hesitantly ask as you stand in front of the elevator. You take in for a moment how Yuma’s fingers are interlaced with yours and how warm his palms are against your cold skin. This is the first time you are so nervous when sneaking out is all you two have been doing these past months.
“There are no cameras here to care enough about that, also, Nicholas has like a dozen balconies in here, so they wouldn’t be able to find us either,” he replies, voice softer than he intends it to be.
You two climb up to the top floor rooms, reserved for Nicholas’s friends and family only and enter the balcony of the extra room around the corner. The night air hits your face and for a moment, you let yourself forget the world and just focus on the cold air and Yuma’s hand in yours.
“What nostalgia moment are you waiting to hit?” The moment is instantly ruined by his lame remark and you smile at him sweetly, shoving the middle finger up his face with your free hand. Yuma just giggles, his fingers tightening around yours. For a long time, you two just stand there before he asks again, “No, seriously, are you okay?”
“I am fine, I am just tired,” you murmur, which technically wasn’t a lie.
“So tired that you don’t have any counter-arguments? Oh my god, have I finally won?” he dramatically puts a hand over his chest and gasps and your lips break into a smile, a genuine one, for the first time in the night.
You take a deep breath and reply, “I have this new co-worker who is so annoying and refuses to listen to the director’s orders, and we were stuck filming one small scene fifty times because he kept messing up.” You cut off short, not knowing how to continue. You never had deep conversations with Yuma; heck, you barely had conversations that didn’t start and end with arguing.
His fingers rub the back of your hand and you look towards the city skyline and the glittering lights spread across. “The city is pretty,” you whisper and he hums in agreement and you chuckle. It was rare of you and Yuma to actually agree on something.
“It is so pretty,” he murmurs, looking straight at your face while you are blissfully unaware of the fact. Yuma takes a deep breath, knowing what is about to come, what was always evident to come. He is not the type of person whose hands you would put your heart in nor is he the person who can hold you anytime he wants.
Because you are both celebrities, and celebrities cannot afford to live normally. If you two go out together tomorrow, there will be a billion cameras flashing at your faces. Would you ever give someone who invites all that a chance?
“I think I love you,” he says before he can stop himself and your eyes widen in shock. Before you can say anything, he continues, “I hadn’t planned on it, I just think I fell in love with you, which is weird because you are so fucking insufferable, but if I go one day without seeing that angry face of yours when I hit your nerves, it drives me crazy. It drives me crazy thinking you might be mad at someone else, just not me and it drives me crazy thinking you actually found someone who will treat you right, which isn’t me.”
He finally stops rambling and you stare at him; words stuck in your throat. When you finally realise what he just said, you whisper, “You are so stupid, Nakakita.” You don’t give him time to retort as you pull him by his collar and press your lips to his. You had kissed Yuma so many times before this and yet it still hit so different every time. Yuma’s fingers tighten around yours as he tilts his head and you thread your fingers through his hair.
You two part for just one second as you whisper to his lips, “Fuck I love you too, Nakakita,” and he smirks, pressing his lips to yours again as you groan from the taste of his lips alone. His hand tightens around your waist as you both smile into the kiss.
Yuma doesn’t know he stays sane at your lips moving against his in a way that is so wholly new. All he knows is the midnight driving and giggles were worth it, and so was pestering you from day one.
ARCHV ⠀ ⌗⠀، brat yuma agenda be taking over my mind omg, because that man is just so infuriatingly cute ugh. ilhsm
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【 爱情 】 ────── he is too late, you are aware, but you still want to let him in
𝐂𝐇𝒪𝐑𝐃⠀ ⌗⠀، nicholas & reader⠀ ✦ ◞ ⠀exes to lovers⠀ angst ⠀ 1179 ⠀ ੭ꢆ ⠀ warns ⠀ kiss⠀ alcohol ⠀ ´ ᵕ ` ⠀ LIB? ⠀ series
Your first mistake was falling in love with Nicholas, and your second mistake was thinking he loved you back. It had slipped past your tongue accidentally- the three-word sentence- in one of your late-night conversations.
You don’t remember much after that; it was a blur, you remember your ears ringing lightly as he coaxed you to sleep. You remember ghosting him the next day and when he asked if you were okay, you said you were fine without a tremble in your voice.
You remember breaking up with him the next day!
You remember blocking him instantly and not wanting to do anything but move on from Wang Yixiang. And you did it, successfully, for a whole month.
But life seemed to have other plans when you started taking your way back home through the block his house is on. You told yourself it was just convenience and nothing more. You would be lying if you didn’t glance at his house everyday but it is very normal because he is a person you used to know, nothing more.
By the second month, you heard from some of your friends that he found someone new. You were happy for him, you definitely were. You were happy when you scoffed and thought how he was sleeping well now, knowing you were hurting. You were happy when you sat down on the couch and downed the drink, ignoring the burning sensation in your throat.
You lay down on the same couch you two once cuddled on, hoping you were dizzy enough to forget him.
By the third month, the ache had dulled down to a numbing scar that you choose to ignore. Your occasional thoughts about where you were lacking have become a dim memory that comes back sometimes.
Today is one of those lucky nights where they do, and you keep thinking how stupid you are, thinking that giving him your all was never enough for him. You scroll mindlessly, the beer glass forming a ring on the table, which, any other time, would bother you a lot.
But tonight, you keep thinking- what if he lets you back in? Will you make it better by breaking every habit, pulling yourselves together and letting it happen? Or will he never go through it again?
A small knock on your door jolts you out of your trance and you scrunch your eyebrows because you are not expecting any visitors. You get up lightly and walk towards the door and as soon as you see who it is, you decide not to open it at all. You look back once more and a sigh leaves your lips as you open the door and ask, “What?”
Yixiang looks just as surprised as you as he pants lightly and gulps, trying to meet your eyes. You look at him once, the slightly drenched hair and leather jacket, the light tinge of red on his cheeks that only happens when he is tipsy.
“You'd better start speaking before I close this door,” an exasperated sigh leaves your lips when his eyes widen and he puts his hand on the door, shaking his head vigorously.
“I miss you,” he whispers, a broken breath following right after and you reconsider slamming the door to his face.
Instead, you reply, “You are drunk, Yixiang, go home.” Now you will definitely close the door and continue your night like it was originally planned.
“No, I got drenched in the rain, I’m sober now,” he loosely replies and you scoff at the dumbest logic ever and you shake your head at him. His eyes never leave you, a pleading smile taking place and you feel like it is your cue to stop all this.
“It doesn’t work that way,” you grit your teeth as you say it, refusing to meet his eyes. You know you won’t be able to resist once you do.
“I don’t know what works how, I miss you, I miss your everything and every day for the seventy-four days we weren’t together and I thought I could move on and I tried but you just consume every single part of my brain to the point where I am unable to think of anyone or anything else, so please just come back,” he replies, hands clutching on the doorknob, determined to keep it open and for a moment you feel your ears ring again.
You take one breath and say, “You don’t get to do this,” you pause and look at him but his confused eyes infuriate you more as you continue, “You don’t get to be drenched and drunk and declare a great confession, hoping I would come back when you wanted me to leave in the first place.”
“I never wanted you to leave,” he whispers, voice smaller than before and your eyes sting as a sarcastic laugh leaves your throat.
“Did you only show up because you couldn’t handle missing me?” you laugh at him, shaking your head. You should have closed the door in the first place and left him out.
“I love you; I loved you back then and I love you now and I never got a chance to tell you until I realised, I was too late,” he takes a breath and continues, “And I just need you to know this, that is all.”
He lets go of the doorknob while you stand there, unable to move. You are sure you heard wrong and you are sure this is a hallucination but when he takes a step back, your voice calls him out, “Wait!”
His eyes widen, hope sparkling just a little and you sigh, saying, “You are drenched, come inside.” Yixiang obeys you quietly as he steps in and you close the door quietly.
The night feels quieter again, with the rain forming a melodramatic backdrop. Nicholas stands there quietly, facing you as you turn around and whisper, “We are not fixed but I am willing to give this a chance again.”
Relief floods his veins as he slowly intertwines your fingers and you let him. You let him when he presses your foreheads together and replies, “Thank you and I am sorry for everything.”
You nod lightly and close your eyes, taking in his scent, his lightly rough hands against your palms and his everything. Your breath mingles and you let him press a kiss on your lips as you kiss back slowly. The kiss was everything you needed in the past month- the reassurance, the mending and him. Only him.
When you part, you say lightly, “I will bring you a towel.”
His fingers clutch around yours tighter and he replies, “I know where it is, how about you just help me dry my hair?” You look up, a small smile on your face as you nod and drag him inside. Nicholas smiles at the old habit as he looks around, taking it all in.
And for the first time in months, you both don’t feel like it is starting over. It just feels like coming home.
ARCHV ⠀ ⌗⠀، totally didn't write this for yearner yixiang agenda omg. god to have a man like him he is too perfect . . . beta @sxmmerberries and an irl frnd who i forced to read
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⌖ pairing: chung sanghyeon as your regular customer who has a crush on you
⌖ word count: 878
⌖ summary: you realise that your cute regular customer might have a crush on you
Your sister smirked beside you, teasingly elbowing you in the side, “Your number one fan is back.”
"Or maybe he is just a customer who happens to really love sweets. That's all," You rolled your eyes at her as you glanced over your shoulder to see the boy sitting down at the usual seat near the window. You quickly looked away, pretending not to care.
“His mom owns a café, you know. If he truly had a sweet tooth, he could go to his mom's place instead of coming here every day,” She pointed out, leaning against the counter as she stared at him from across the room.
Your sister's words made you freeze in your tracks for a moment as you processed the information. "Wait, his mom owns a café?", You asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.
Your sister nodded, her grin growing even wider, “Yeah, apparently they're quite famous for their desserts. But for some reason, your fan boy prefers to come here to see you instead.”
You knew she was right. There was a perfectly good café owned by his mom just down the street. So why did he keep coming here instead?
Your curiosity piqued, but you tried to play it off casually. "Maybe he just likes our desserts better," You said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.
Despite your attempt to feign indifference, your eyes betrayed your interest, and you couldn't help but steal another glance in his direction. Your heart fluttered as the thought crossed your mind.
Your sister shook her head, clearly not buying it, "Or maybe he just likes admiring the pretty girl behind the counter.”
"You are delusional. He's just a regul—"
Your sister rolled her eyes, cutting you off, "Just go and take his order. He is probably waiting for you to grace him with your presence.”
Your heartbeat quickened as you realized that you would have to approach him and take his order. Trying to keep a casual expression on your face, you turned to your sister and sighed, "Fine, I'll go take his order.”
You felt your defenses weakening the moment you saw his endearing c-type smile and sparkling eyes. As you met his gaze, you plastered on a friendly smile, trying to steady your racing heart, "Hi there, what can I get for you today?”
His bright expression only widened as he looked up at you like he had been waiting all day just to see you, "A blueberry lemonade and pistachio cheesecake, please.”
"Okay, one blueberry lemonade and pistachio cheesecake coming right up," You said, scribbling down his order. "Anything else?”
Your sister's voice piped up from behind you, causing both you and your fan boy to freeze. "Perhaps her number?", She suggested slyly, making you whip your head towards her in mortification as you plead with your eyes for her to shut up.
You shot her a subtle glare, silently warning her to behave. "Ignore her," you muttered to him apologetically, "She is delusional and has no filter.”
Just when you thought the awkwardness had peaked, he leaned in slightly and added, "Can I have that too?”
His head tilted just enough to make your breath hitch. Your mind short-circuited for a solid three seconds as you stared at him, trying to process his words.
"You... you want what exactly?", You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden racing of your heart.
He chuckled at your flustered reaction, his playful smile widening. "Your number," He admitted boldly, "Along with the lemonade and cheesecake, of course.”
He was really asking for your number?
"My number?", You repeated dumbly, still holding the notepad close like a shield. The way he looked at you, the way he casually asked for your number. It felt too much. He had no right to be this effortlessly attractive while you were actively malfunctioning.
He chuckled at your silence, his amusement only growing at your flustered reaction. "Your number," He reiterated slowly, enunciating the word as if you somehow missed the initial request.
He snatched your notepad with ease, scribbling down his number before you could even open your mouth to speak. You tried to hide your flustered expression, but it was a lost cause.
He looked down at the page, where you had written "Puppy" next to his order, and crossed it out as he gave you a small grin that screamed, “I saw that,” before replacing it with his name, “Sanghyeon.”
He handed the notebook back to you, his smile softening into something more shy as his eyes met yours.
"Here you go," He said quietly, pushing it toward your hands. "You can have my number instead. I am Chung Sanghyeon, and I really like you.”
“It is really nice to meet you, Sanghyeon,” You finally let out a coherent response as you tried to pull yourself together.
Your sister chose that very moment to stroll up with his order, complete with a puppy-shaped cookie on the side.
"I'll take that as you will be practically living at this café from now on?", She teased as Sanghyeon chuckled shyly at her words.
“If it means I get to see her again, then of course,” He replied smoothly as he picked up the cookie.
sangwon brainrot ugh i can't help but think he'd be the most soft spoken, most loving and cutieful bf ever
like imagine the two of you get paired in a diss battle and this man can't utter a single word of spite, even jokingly, to you, let alone keep eye contact. he racks his brain for any of your minus points, but he ends up with nothing. but he has to say something, right? so what does he say? he ends up weakly accusing you for stealing his hoodies and jackets, and not giving them back to him. a moment of silence is followed by the boys leting out collective deep sighs. geonwoo and sanghyeon 'boo!' at the same time at their friend's inability to properly diss you, with leo and junseo chiming in about how it's actually really cute and endearing.
meanwhile, when it's your turn, you're on the other side going at it (all in light heartedness ofc), with all sorts of gestures and animated expressions, looking straight at him. and what does he do?
he takes everything with the biggest grin on his face like the loser in love he is. i kid you not, i don't think this man even hears anything you say. goes through one ear and out the other. the only thing in his mind is how pretty you look right now, how animated you are, how cute you look with your eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up, as exaggerate the amount of books he has at home on his shelf labelled 'to read'. he cannot look at you without bursting into laughter, his eyes as wide as saucers and mouth open in an 'o' shape with each admission from you in fun.
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