💞 Trope: Fuckboy Falls First, Grumpy x Sunshine (but she's the grump), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining
📚 Genre: College AU, Romance, Angst, Fluff
🌟 Featuring: All ATEEZ members, Original Character (Jisoo – reader’s childhood friend)
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📖 Summary:
Reserved, logical, and emotionally guarded, Y/N never expected the campus heartbreaker to take interest in her. San wasn’t looking for anything real—until she became the one girl he couldn’t charm.
Masterlist
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Y/N never understood why people insisted that college was the best time of your life.
To her, university was something to survive — a meticulously calculated path to a stable career, free of distractions, social drama, and especially men who wore cologne strong enough to make your neurons short-circuit. That last category happened to fill most of her general education electives.
She wasn’t there to thrive. She was there to get through it.
The hallways of Seoul National’s pharmacy department were her sanctuary — organized, quiet, logical. Here, her obsession with structure and predictability wasn’t weird. It was respected or at least she had hoped that.
But the school required a handful of non-major classes to “round out” students’ education, which is how Y/N found herself in Interpersonal Communication 101, stuck in the back of a lecture hall with a half-dead highlighter, desperately trying to ignore the group of guys laughing near the front.
Loud guys.
Obnoxiously attractive guys.
“Bro, I swear she winked at you,” one of them said — the one with dimples and way too much energy for 9:00 a.m.
The one beside him, black baseball cap turned backward, just chuckled. “She winks at everyone.”
That voice.
Even without looking, Y/N knew exactly who it belonged to.
Choi San.
Campus heartthrob. Known for switching majors as often as he changed hair color. Rumored to have kissed a senior in the middle of a sociology presentation and gotten a B+ on the same project. Women loved him. Professors were charmed by him. Guys wanted to be him. And he never sat in the same seat twice.
Y/N had learned that by accident.
It wasn’t that she cared.
She just liked routine. And unfortunately, he was allergic to it.
Today, he slid into the empty chair two seats beside her with a loud yawn, stretching his arms overhead like he hadn’t kept half the dorm awake with late-night karaoke.
Y/N flipped her page and pretended not to notice.
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The professor cleared his throat. “All right, class. We’re starting our semester project today. Everyone’s going to work in pairs.”
Y/N blinked.
Pairs?
The word made her stomach twist.
She was used to working alone — methodical, precise, efficient. Group work meant compromise. Delay. Stress.
The professor continued. “You’ll be randomly assigned. This isn’t optional — part of the point is learning to navigate different personalities.”
Y/N groaned inwardly. She could already feel the migraine forming.
“Your names are on the sheet here,” he added, holding up a printed list before handing it off to a TA.
She tried not to panic. She really did.
But the universe clearly hated her today, because two minutes later, the girl sitting beside her peeked over and whispered, “Hey, you’re with… San?”
Y/N froze. “San?”
“Choi San,” the girl confirmed. “Lucky you.”
She blinked, slowly turning toward the front.
San was already looking at her — and smirking.
She gathered her things quickly and approached him at the front of the room. The professor was still talking, but her heart was pounding too loudly to hear it.
San looked up as she neared, tilting his head. “Y/N, right?”
Her throat caught. “How do you…?”
“I remember names.” His voice was smooth. Teasing. He leaned back in his seat like this was just another game. “You always sit two rows behind me. Except Wednesdays, when you come in late and grab the aisle.”
She stared.
Was he serious?
“You... notice where I sit?”
“You have that giant navy-blue backpack with the anime pins. Hard to miss.”
Her face flushed. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
He smiled. “Didn’t say it did.”
Y/N glanced around. Students were pairing up, chatting, laughing.
She turned back to him. “Look, let’s just agree on a schedule, get the project done, and stay out of each other’s way.”
San raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Wow. You don’t like me already, huh?”
“I don’t know you,” she corrected sharply. “And I don’t need to.”
Instead of being offended, San grinned. “You’re interesting.”
“I’m not.”
“See? That’s the kind of thing interesting people say.”
They exchanged contact info — her notes were neatly bullet-pointed in her planner, while San handed her his phone already open to a blank contact screen.
She typed in her number carefully. No emojis. No nickname.
“Do you always look like you’re solving a math equation when you type?” he asked.
“I like precision.”
“You’re a pharmacy major, right?”
She paused. “…How do you know that?”
San gave her a look. “I might’ve asked around.”
She stared at him.
He didn’t blink.
“Why?” she asked.
He shrugged, eyes crinkling. “You seemed interesting.”
She was beginning to really hate that word.
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That night, she got a text.
[Unknown Number]: “Hi, partner 😊 This is San. Let me know when you’re free to meet — I promise I can be focused. Kind of.”
Y/N stared at it for a full minute.
Then replied.
[You]: “Tomorrow at 4 in the library. No distractions.”
[San]: “So serious. I’ll bring snacks 🍪”
She didn’t respond.
But she didn’t delete the message either.
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The next afternoon, San actually showed up.
On time.
With snacks.
Y/N had expected him to flake, or worse — flirt. But instead, he sat down across from her and looked almost like a real student.
She laid out her notes. San pulled out a notebook that had maybe four words written in it.
“You don’t take notes?” she asked.
“I take pictures of the slides,” he said. “My brain doesn’t like bullet points.”
She sighed. “We’ll start from the top. I already outlined the assignment objectives.”
He watched her carefully, chin resting in his palm.
“You talk like a textbook,” he said after a while.
“You act like one never touched you,” she shot back without looking up.
San laughed. Loudly.
A few students turned to stare.
Y/N’s ears went red. “Can you not?”
“That was the most savage thing anyone’s ever said to me in a library.”
“Then your friends must be too nice.”
He leaned in, voice dropping a little. “You think about me often?”
She looked up, narrowing her eyes. “I think about finishing this project. You just happen to be the obstacle.”
San whistled lowly. “You’re good.”
“I’m efficient.”
He smirked. “You’re cute when you’re irritated.”
Y/N opened her mouth, then closed it again.
She hated how flustered she felt.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
“Tomorrow? Same time?” he asked, already packing up his untouched notebook.
She exhaled slowly. “…Fine.”
San paused. “Hey.”
She glanced up.
He smiled — soft this time. “Thanks for not judging me.”
She blinked, caught off guard.
“I’m not here to judge,” she said.
He winked. “We’ll see about that.”
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The sound of the dorm door slamming behind San echoed through the hallway.
“Bro,” Wooyoung called from the kitchen, “you’re actually back before midnight? Who are you and what have you done with our roommate?”
San dropped his backpack onto the couch. “I had a study session.”
Yeosang peered over the back of the couch. “You? Studying? That’s a plot twist.”
“Did you get her number too?” Seonghwa asked, barely looking up from the book he was annotating.
San raised an eyebrow. “We’re literally project partners.”
“Doesn’t answer the question,” Yunho said with a grin, throwing a chip at him.
San caught it in mid-air and ate it. “She gave me her number… professionally.”
“Ohhh,” the others chorused.
“It’s not like that,” San muttered, walking past them toward the fridge.
“So it’s not like the last three ‘study sessions’ you had this semester?” Jongho called.
San paused, bottle of water in hand. “Y/N’s different.”
They all looked up.
That was a word San didn’t use lightly.
“She’s… like, really smart. Organized. Kinda blunt,” he added. “She doesn’t care about social stuff. Or me.”
“That last one’s gotta sting,” Wooyoung smirked.
“It’s weird. Everyone else plays the game. She doesn’t,” San said, more to himself.
Hongjoong, who’d just walked in from his room, threw his bag down and narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Y/N? Like… the one everyone says is scary?”
San blinked. “She’s not scary.”
“Just quiet,” Seonghwa offered.
“And kind of intense,” Yeosang added.
“And maybe a little judgy,” Wooyoung grinned.
San shook his head. “She’s just focused. People don’t get her.”
“But you do?” Yunho asked, half-teasing.
“I want to,” San admitted before realizing how it sounded.
Everyone stared.
He cleared his throat. “We have another session tomorrow. So… yeah.”
The next afternoon, Y/N sat under a tree outside the library, a large pharmacology textbook open in her lap. San spotted her from a distance — headphones on, hoodie up, pen tapping lightly against her page.
She didn’t notice him until his shadow blocked the sun.
Her head tilted up, brows furrowing. “You’re early.”
San grinned. “Didn’t want to be late.”
Y/N pulled out her planner. “I bookmarked the sections we need to review. I’ve also outlined possible project frameworks.”
He sat beside her. “Do you ever just… chill?”
She blinked. “This is me chilling.”
He laughed, fully leaning back in the grass beside her.
“You’re gonna crease your notes,” he warned.
“I made a copy,” she replied without missing a beat.
San turned his head to look at her. “Do you always assume people underestimate you?”
“No,” she said quietly. “I assume they don’t care enough to try.”
He was silent.
She glanced up. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Just… that was honest.”
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“Don’t be.” His voice was softer than usual. “I liked it.”
Inside the library, they sat in a tucked-away study corner. San kept glancing at her over the edge of his laptop, watching the way she chewed on her pen cap when she concentrated.
The way she didn’t fidget when things went quiet.
The way she spoke so clearly — like every word had been edited in her head before being said.
She caught him staring.
“What?”
He shrugged. “You really don’t care what people think, huh?”
Y/N hesitated. “People already think what they want. Trying to change that takes too much energy.”
He tilted his head. “People say you’re cold.”
“People say you’re a slut.”
Her words hit him square in the chest.
She immediately looked down. “Sorry. That was harsh.”
San just… blinked.
Then he laughed — full and real.
“Okay, ouch, but also fair.”
Y/N looked up, confused.
“You’re not wrong,” he said, still chuckling. “But you didn’t say it like an insult. Just… fact.”
“It is,” she said. “And mine’s a fact too. You think I don’t hear what people say about me?”
He looked at her, suddenly serious. “They’re wrong.”
“I don’t care.”
“I think you do.”
Y/N didn’t reply.
San leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Why do you pretend to be colder than you are?”
She met his eyes. “Why do you pretend to be less serious than you are?”
He froze.
No smile. No teasing comeback.
Just a heartbeat of shared stillness.
Then someone across the aisle hissed, “Look, that’s her. The one who never talks to anyone.”
San looked over.
A group of girls were whispering.
“She’s so rude. She ignored me in lab last week.”
“She acts like she’s better than everyone.”
San frowned.
Y/N’s expression didn’t change, but her hands clenched in her lap.
He stood up.
“Hey,” he said to the group. “Keep it down. Some of us are trying to study.”
The girls blinked.
San turned back to Y/N, grabbing his backpack. “Let’s go.”
She followed without a word.
Outside the library, she finally spoke.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
“I’m used to it.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s okay.”
She looked down. “People judge what they don’t understand.”
San exhaled. “Yeah. They do.”
They walked in silence.
Until she asked, “Why did you defend me?”
He gave a small smile. “Because I’m starting to understand you.”
She stopped walking.
San stopped too.
Y/N stared at him. “You don’t even know me.”
“I’m trying,” he said, voice low. “Isn’t that more than most?”
She didn’t answer. But her silence wasn’t cold — just uncertain.
San smiled. “I’ll text you later?”
She gave a small nod.
As she turned away, he called, “Hey.”
She looked back.
“You’re not cold,” he said. “You’re just… hard to read. And some of us like a challenge.”
She rolled her eyes.
But this time, she was smiling.
That night, San lay on his bed, phone open to their message thread.
No new texts. But the old ones made him grin.
His door creaked open. Yeosang poked his head in. “So? How’d it go with your ice queen?”
San threw a pillow at him.
“She’s not cold,” he said.
“No?” Wooyoung said from the hallway. “Then why are you suddenly warm all the time?”
San ignored them, flipping back to the photo he’d secretly taken of their notes side-by-side.
One line from her planner stood out.
“Control what you can. Accept what you can’t.”
He stared at it for a long time.
And for the first time in months, San wasn’t interested in chasing anyone else.
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San wasn’t used to feeling… second.
He wasn’t even sure that was the right word. But whatever it was, it didn’t feel good.
From the edge of the courtyard, he spotted Y/N standing by the fountain, talking to someone he didn’t recognize — tall, broad-shouldered, sharp jawline. The guy was dressed in athletic gear, logo of the Seoul Tigers stitched onto his jacket sleeve. San recognized it instantly: professional volleyball team. Big deal.
But what really caught San’s attention wasn’t the team logo.
It was the way Y/N smiled.
Not the tight-lipped, polite smile she usually gave in class. Not the quick, practiced smirk she used when San made a joke.
This smile was effortless.
Real.
He hadn’t seen that one before.
San stayed in the shade of the trees, watching without meaning to.
The guy leaned in and said something that made Y/N laugh. Her hand came up to lightly tap his chest — casual, familiar. He flicked her forehead, and she rolled her eyes, still smiling.
It hit San harder than he expected.
“You okay?”
San blinked. Yunho had come up beside him, holding a bag of convenience store snacks and raising a curious brow.
“Yeah,” San muttered, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket.
“You’re staring.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are. Hard.”
San looked away. “She’s just with someone.”
“Jisoo?” Yunho asked. “The volleyball guy?”
San’s jaw tensed.
Yunho whistled under his breath. “Damn. He’s, like, model-tier.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” San said flatly.
Yunho laughed, unwrapping a rice cake. “Well, I did. Your girl’s got taste.”
“She’s not my girl.”
“Right,” Yunho said, not bothering to hide the grin.
San watched a moment longer, then muttered, “I’m going back to the dorm.”
Yunho raised a brow. “You’re not gonna say hi?”
“No point,” San said. “She already looks happy.”
Later, at the dorm, San flopped onto the couch and pulled a blanket over his head.
“Drama queen,” Wooyoung said, poking his leg with a water bottle. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“He’s sulking,” Yeosang said from the kitchen. “Like a kicked puppy.”
“I’m fine,” San grumbled under the blanket.
Hongjoong looked up from his laptop. “Is this about Y/N?”
No answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.
“She was with Jisoo,” Yunho explained, dropping onto the couch. “They seemed… close.”
“Who’s Jisoo?” Seonghwa asked.
“Childhood friend,” Yunho replied. “Pro athlete. Basically a K-drama male lead.”
“Ohhh,” the room chorused.
Wooyoung smirked. “So our San is… jealous?”
San groaned from under the blanket. “I’m not jealous.”
“Then why’d you come back early?” Seonghwa asked.
“I didn’t feel like being there.”
“You were literally hiding behind a tree,” Yunho said.
San sat up, hair messy and face flushed. “Shut up.”
Wooyoung leaned in. “Aw, look at him. Flustered.”
“Stop teasing him,” Seonghwa said gently. “Feelings are weird.”
“I don’t have feelings,” San said too quickly.
Silence.
Then Yeosang, deadpan: “Liar.”
San sank back into the cushions with a defeated sigh.
At their next scheduled study session, Y/N was already at the table when San arrived.
She greeted him with a quiet nod and didn’t mention Jisoo.
San sat across from her, pulling out his notebook.
The silence stretched a little longer than usual.
He glanced up.
Y/N looked tired — not in the dark-circle way, but like someone carrying something heavy internally.
“You okay?” he asked before he could stop himself.
She blinked. “I’m fine.”
He nodded. “Cool.”
Back to silence.
They worked without talking for a while — pages turned, pens scratched, screens glowed, until San closed his notebook and glanced over at her.
“So… that guy yesterday,” he said casually, pretending to stretch. “The one by the fountain.”
Y/N looked up. “Jisoo?”
San nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “You two seemed close.”
She blinked. “He’s a childhood friend.”
San hummed, tapping his pen on the table. “Is he studying here now?”
“No. He’s just visiting. He plays for the Seoul Tigers.”
San gave a low whistle. “Big deal.”
Y/N tilted her head slightly. “Why are you asking?”
He shrugged, eyes still on his pen. “Just curious.”
There was a pause.
“Do you always ask about people I talk to?” she asked, not in a defensive tone — just genuinely puzzled.
San froze for a split second, then recovered. “No. I just hadn’t seen you smile like that before.”
Her brows drew together. “Like what?”
“Like you were… comfortable.”
Y/N sat back in her chair. “We grew up together. That’s all it is.”
San didn’t respond right away. Then quietly: “Right.”
She watched him for a moment, but when it was clear he wasn’t going to say more, she returned to her notes.
He stared at the corner of his page, pen motionless in his hand, wondering what the hell he was feeling — and why it wouldn’t go away.
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San didn’t even want to go to the party.
But Wooyoung had dragged him out anyway — practically pulled him out of his hoodie and shoved him into a nicer shirt.
“It’ll get your mind off her,” Wooyoung had said, handing him a soda as they stepped into the neon-hazed chaos of the house party.
“I’m not thinking about anyone,” San had mumbled in return.
Now, thirty minutes in, San stood in the corner of a sweaty living room, clutching a lukewarm drink, eyes scanning the room like he was looking for a fire escape. Music thumped through the floorboards, lights pulsed red and blue, and people pressed too close, laughing and spilling drinks.
He felt out of place. Restless.
Not because the party was bad — it was the same as always. Same crowd. Same playlist. Same Wooyoung dancing in the middle of the room like he owned it.
No, San felt wrong because she wasn’t here.
And worse — she wouldn’t have come, even if he’d asked.
He didn’t notice the girl until she stepped into his line of sight.
Cute. Wavy hair. Confident smile. The kind of person who knew how to own her space.
“Hey,” she said, tipping her cup toward him. “You’re San, right?”
He nodded.
“Pharmacy building’s pretty far from music,” she continued. “But I’ve seen you around.”
He blinked. “How would you—”
“You’re the guy who always brings cold brew into 8 a.m. classes.”
Ah. That tracked.
She smiled again. “Want to dance?”
He hesitated.
But then something bitter bubbled up inside him — frustration, jealousy, the ache of being ignored, overlooked, unwanted.
He nodded and followed her onto the makeshift dance floor.
The music was loud, bodies swaying close.
The girl danced easily, drawing him in with playful glances and brushes of her fingers against his sleeve.
San moved with her, distracted and distant, his mind a hundred miles away. Every time she laughed, he thought of Y/N’s quieter chuckle. When she tugged him closer, he remembered how Y/N always sat just out of reach, even when they were alone.
He didn’t want this girl.
But he let her pull him into a quieter hallway anyway.
Her lips brushed against his.
They were warm. Soft.
But wrong.
So wrong.
San froze.
The girl leaned in again, but this time he gently caught her wrist and stepped back.
“Sorry,” he said, voice rough. “I… can’t.”
She looked surprised. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head, guilt already weighing heavy in his chest. “No. You’re great. It’s not you.”
“Then what is it?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then sighed. “I just can’t stop thinking about someone else.”
She gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his chest. “Fair enough.”
San walked home alone in the cold night air.
The streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional passing car. His jacket wasn’t thick enough, and the wind stung his face, but he barely noticed.
All he could think about was how miserable it had felt to kiss someone who wasn’t her.
Back at the dorm, the lights were low. Most of the others had either gone to sleep or stayed out later. Only Seonghwa was awake, sitting in the kitchen, flipping through a book.
San dropped onto a chair across from him and buried his face in his arms.
“Didn’t go well?” Seonghwa asked softly.
San groaned. “It was a disaster.”
Seonghwa waited.
“I kissed someone,” San mumbled.
Silence.
“Okay,” Seonghwa said slowly. “And? Isn’t that like normal for you?”
“And I couldn’t do it,” San admitted. “I stopped. I walked out.”
Seonghwa set his book down. “Because of Y/N?”
San didn’t answer, which was an answer.
Seonghwa nodded. “You like her.”
“I don’t even know what that means anymore,” San muttered.
“It means you like her.”
“But she’s… She’s quiet. She doesn’t let anyone in.”
“She let you in.”
San hesitated.
“You’ve been the only one who’s seen her, really seen her,” Seonghwa said gently. “You think that’s nothing?”
San stared at the table.
“I don’t know if she feels the same,” he whispered.
“Then talk to her,” Seonghwa replied. “Or don’t. But don’t pretend this is casual anymore.”
Meanwhile, across the city, Y/N sat in a quiet café with Jisoo.
He’d found her after her pharmacy lab, insisting on catching up before he returned to training.
They sipped tea in silence for a while. Jisoo was always like that — unhurried, content to sit with the quiet.
Then, out of nowhere, he said, “You seem distracted lately.”
She blinked. “Do I?“
Jisoo just looked at her.
She bit her lip. “I guess I’m just tired.”
Jisoo tilted his head. “Is it about someone?”
Y/N hesitated.
“Your study partner, maybe?”
She shot him a startled glance.
Jisoo laughed. “You talk about him. Not often. But when you do, your voice changes.”
Y/N flushed. “It’s not like that.”
“I didn’t say it was,” Jisoo said kindly. “But you seem… unsure. Like you’re afraid to want something.”
She looked down at her cup. “He’s not like me.”
“Meaning?”
“He’s loud. Confident. People like him.”
Jisoo smiled softly. “So?”
“So I’m not that kind of person.”
He took a sip of tea. “You’re kind. Smart. Funny, even if no one sees it. If he doesn’t see that, he’s the one who’s not enough.”
Y/N looked up at him.
“Do you like him?” he asked.
She didn’t answer.
Jisoo didn’t push. He just smiled and said, “I hope you find someone who makes you feel like being yourself is enough. And I hope you will let that person in.”
Back at the dorm, San sat on his bed, headphones in, scrolling through old photos on his phone.
He had a few saved from group study sessions. A blurry one of Y/N tucking her hair behind her ear. Another of her glancing up with wide eyes mid-note.
He’d never had the courage to send them to her.
He didn’t even know why he’d taken them.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Wooyoung: “You alive?”
San typed back: “Barely.”
Then paused.
And added: “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
The typing bubble appeared.
“100%. But a love-sick one.”
San groaned.
Then typed a new message.
To her.
[San]: Are you free tomorrow?
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Y/N stared at the message when it came in.
She’d been curled in bed, reading over her chemistry notes, trying to block out the conversation she’d had with Jisoo.
She reread it twice.
It was simple.
Still, she didn’t answer right away.
Not because she didn’t want to.
But because she didn’t know if it would be really okay to hang out with him.
Y/N wasn’t sure why she agreed to hang out.
San had framed it vaguely. Something about relaxing. Something about a reward for finishing their latest round of project drafts early. Her initial instinct was to decline, as usual, but San had asked with that persistent glint in his eyes. The one that told her he wasn’t going to beg, but would probably annoy her about it until she said yes.
„Just a few hours,“ he’d said. „You need fresh air. You’re starting to look like a locked-in alchemist.“
That line alone had made her snort.
Now she stood stiffly outside a noisy arcade and convenience plaza in Hongdae, watching San jog over, hands shoved in his hoodie, looking a little too pleased with himself.
„You didn’t tell me this would involve other people,“ she said flatly.
San grinned, unbothered. „Surprise.“
„I don’t like surprises.“
„Yeah, I figured,“ he said. „But I think you’ll like them. My friends are cool. Loud. But cool.“
Before she could protest, a cluster of guys waved from across the pavement. Seven of them, to be precise.
San gestured. „Come on. You’re already here.“
She rolled her eyes but followed.
„So *this* is the mysterious pharmacy major,“ said Wooyoung, eyeing her with a teasing smirk.
„She’s got a vibe,“ Yeosang added, nudging his glasses up.
„I didn’t know San knew how to be friends with someone so quiet,“ Hongjoong remarked, genuinely curious.
Y/N crossed her arms. „I didn’t know San knew how to be friends with women, period.“
The table of guys burst out laughing. Even Jongho let out a low chuckle.
San looked slightly betrayed. „I’ll have you know I’m very supportive of women.“
„You’re supportive of flirting with them,“ Y/N deadpanned.
„She’s blunt as hell,“ Yunho muttered, watching her curiously.
Y/N didn’t try to soften the impression she gave. They could take her or leave her. She wasn’t here to charm anyone. She was here because San wouldn’t shut up until she agreed.
Still, she found the group dynamic surprisingly tolerable. Even… interesting. There was a natural rhythm between them. Chaos, sure, but grounded chaos. They all treated San like he was both their favorite and most exhausting sibling.
And San, in return, was… different around them.
A little softer. A little less performative. Less flirt, more friend.
It unsettled her in a way she couldn’t articulate.
They ended up playing a few arcade games. Y/N didn’t care for the noise, but there was a certain joy in watching Wooyoung yell in disbelief as she casually beat him at a rhythm game on her first try.
„You’re a menace,“ he gasped.
„You just suck,“ she replied simply.
San was laughing behind her, head tilted back, eyes crinkled.
„I told you she’d humble you,“ he said, nudging Wooyoung.
„I didn’t know she’d eviscerate me.“
„She’s like that all the time,“ San replied, fondly.
Y/N glanced at him. That tone again. Like he wasn’t talking about a classmate. Like she was something… closer.
She looked away.
Later, they all sat near the street food vendors, eating snacks and talking over one another.
Y/N picked at her tteokbokki quietly. Listening. Letting their energy pass over her like a tide.
„Y/N?“
She looked up to see a tall figure approaching.
„Jisoo?“
He grinned. „Wow. Didn’t think I would see you here.“
She stood up slightly. „Didn’t know you were on this side of town.“
„Practice let out early. And I’m starving.“
The guys fell into a subtle hush, observing the interaction.
„You can sit if you want,“ Y/N said.
San blinked.
Jisoo sat beside her with a nod to the others. „I’m Jisoo. Old friend.“
„We’re San’s friends,“ Mingi offered. „Well, technically his babysitters.“
That got a few chuckles.
„Y/N and I used to live down the street from each other,“ Jisoo explained. „She was always reading manga under the slide while everyone else played soccer.“
Y/N nodded. „Still do. Just indoors now.“
Jisoo smirked. „She used to threaten to hex people with her chemistry kits.“
„Only you,“ she corrected.
„Still counts.“
San was quiet. Watching. An unfamiliar tension pulled at his jaw.
The ease between them grated on him. That Jisoo had known her first. That he could talk about her like a permanent fixture. That she smiled more during this ten-minute exchange than she had all afternoon.
He hated how much it bothered him.
When Jisoo left, the dynamic shifted.
Y/N went back to quiet, but it was a thoughtful quiet.
San, for once, didn’t speak much. He kept his hands in his hoodie pocket. Kept glancing at her when she wasn’t looking.
Hongjoong noticed. Raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Later, when the group dispersed and it was just the two of them walking back toward the station, Y/N finally broke the silence.
„You’re weird today.“
San didn’t look at her. „Am I?“
„You keep sulking. You didn’t even make fun of Wooyoung’s reaction time.“
„Maybe I’m just tired.“
„Or jealous.“
He stopped.
She turned to face him. Calm. Unbothered. But her eyes searched his face.
He swallowed. „Of what?“
„I don’t know,“ she said plainly. „You tell me.“
He held her gaze for a beat longer, then looked away.
They stood like that for a few seconds too long.
Then she started walking again.
He followed.
That night, Y/N lay awake, staring at her ceiling.
She wasn’t sure what to make of today.
The guys weren’t awful. San was… weird. Not in a bad way. Just less obnoxious than usual. Quieter.
Maybe she threw him off. Maybe Jisoo did.
Either way, she couldn’t stop thinking about the look on his face when she’d teased him about being jealous.
He hadn’t denied it.
Not really.
At the same time, San was pacing his room.
Wooyoung, stretched on the bed, was scrolling through his phone lazily.
„You gonna say something or just walk holes into the floor?“
„She invited him to sit.“
„Who?“
„That guy. Jisoo. The one who knows her manga preferences.“
Wooyoung looked up. „Oh, you’re spiraling.“
„I’m not spiraling.“
„You’re emotionally imploding. Which is cute, honestly.“
San groaned.
„Dude. Just admit it. You like her. A lot.“
„She doesn’t even like people.“
„Yeah, and yet she spent all day with us for *you.* That means something.“
San sat on the edge of the bed.
„I think I messed up.“
„Nah. You’re just not used to having feelings that aren’t ego-driven.“
San threw a pillow at him.
Wooyoung ducked. „Text her.“
San considered it.
Then didn’t.
°•°°°••••°°♡•••°°°°°°°•••••♡°°•°°•°°°°°♡•••
Y/N hated rain.
Not for the poetic reasons most people did. Not because it was lonely or moody or reflected some deep metaphor about emotion.
She just hated being wet. She hated soggy clothes, squeaky shoes, and the way her hoodie clung to her arms like a soggy second skin. And she especially hated that she’d stayed late in the lab, missed the last bus, and was now standing under a flickering awning as the Seoul sky dumped buckets of cold water. And to top it all she lost her keys and her grandparents are out of town.
Miserable didn’t begin to cover it.
Her fingers were pale and stiff as she tried to text her grandparents that she was fine. She was used to doing everything alone — the commute, the workload, the errands — but today had pushed her limits.
Then she heard the umbrella.
“Seriously?” a voice called out through the downpour. “You don’t own a single raincoat?”
Y/N turned her head.
Choi San. Hoodie, joggers, sneakers soaked at the toes. Holding an umbrella large enough for two.
“I’m fine,” she said flatly.
“You look like a drowned cat.”
“Again. Fine.”
He ignored that and stepped closer, tilting the umbrella over her without asking.
“I saw you leaving the building while I was walking Wooyoung’s laundry over,” he explained. “He’s too good for wet socks, apparently.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, cheerful despite the cold.
Twenty minutes later, she was at his dorm.
His room was neater than expected — spare, with soft lighting and a few posters, a desk piled with unread textbooks, and one rogue dumbbell by the bed. He handed her an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, then pointed her toward the small attached bathroom.
“Dryer’s on already,” he said.
Y/N changed in silence, grateful for the warm fabric. The hoodie swallowed her frame. It smelled like citrus shampoo and something deeper — like cedarwood and warmth. She tried not to think about it.
When she came out, San was toweling his hair dry. Shirtless.
She blinked. Once. Then turned and made a beeline for the bed, sitting stiffly on the edge. Not trying to think about his abs.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“You’re very ‘fine’ today.”
She folded her arms.
He tossed the towel aside, sat on the floor, and leaned against the bed with a heavy extrying. I tried not to stare at his bare stomache. “It was kind of cool seeing you lose your composure, you know.”
I blinked. “I didn’t lose composure.”
“You were frozen. You looked like you’d slap me if I touched you.”
“You looked… distractingly shirtless.”
That made him pause.
“You think I’m distracting?” he grinned, tilting his head.
“I think I was cold and tired and not in the mood for your abs,” she said, perfectly deadpan.
He snorted. “You are seriously something else.”
Elsewhere, the dorm was alive with noise.
“Where’s San?” Yunho asked, carrying snacks into the living room.
“Probably still sulking,” Mingi offered.
“Or trying to impress pharmacy girl,” Yeosang muttered, not looking up from his laptop.
“Y/N,” Wooyoung corrected. “She has a name.”
“She also scares you.”
“She beat me at rhythm games and roasted my ego. That’s fair.”
“I like her,” Seonghwa added. “She’s straightforward.”
“I think San’s in trouble,” Hongjoong said, voice thoughtful.
Jongho raised a brow. “Why?”
“Because I’ve never seen him act like this about anyone.”
San stretched out on the floor, eyes on the ceiling.
“I was thinking,” he said quietly.
“Dangerous.”
“Do you always deflect when people care about you?”
Y/N tensed.
He didn’t push. Just waited.
Finally, she said, “I don’t like assuming people mean things they don’t.”
“Do you think I’m pretending to care?”
“You don’t even know me.”
He sat up slowly. “I know you read medical case studies for fun. I know you pretend to hate everyone, but you stayed the whole day with my friends even though it drained you. I know you eat strawberry pocky when you’re anxious and you triple-check every experiment before you start. I know you’re lonely, and you don’t know how to let people in.”
Silence.
“You’re wrong about the pocky,” she said quietly.
He smiled.
°•°°°••••°°♡•••°°°°°°°•••••♡°°•°°•°°°°°♡•••
The next day, she met Jisoo for coffee.
He raised an eyebrow when he saw her. “You look different.”
“I got caught in the rain,” she said. “San helped.”
“San,” he repeated. “That the guy from the arcade, your study partner ?”
“He’s irritating,” she muttered, stirring her tea.
“Irritating?”
“He doesn’t give up. Most people would.”
Jisoo leaned back. “And that bothers you?”
“I don’t know what he wants.”
“Maybe he just wants you to stop pushing him away.”
She was quiet for a long moment.
“I don’t get him,” she said finally.
“Maybe you’re not supposed to. Maybe you’re supposed to accept his feelings.”
“That’s worse.”
Jisoo laughed.
Later that night, San stood in the dorm kitchen, fiddling with the water kettle. His mind had been racing since Y/N left that afternoon — she’d smiled a little more. Teased him a little more. Still blunt, still unreadable… but somehow different.
He didn’t notice Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong walk in.
“You good?” Seonghwa asked.
San blinked. “Yeah. No. I don’t know.”
“Spit it out.”
San turned, towel slung over his shoulder, eyes distant.
“I think I’m falling for her.”
Wooyoung choked on his soda. “What?”
“I’m serious.”
“You sure?” Seonghwa said gently.
“I know enough. She’s different. She’s not trying to impress anyone. She doesn’t care who I am. She’s blunt and kind and… intriguing.”
Hongjoong leaned against the counter. “Do you think she likes you back?”
“I don’t know,” San admitted. “She looks at me like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.”
The room was silent for a moment.
“Then don’t rush it,” Seonghwa said. “Let it grow.”
Meanwhile, Y/N lay in bed replaying every second of the day.
San in the rain. San offering his hoodie. San shirtless and smiling like he had nothing to hide.
Her pulse jumped just remembering it.
And the way he looked at her — not like a challenge, not like someone to conquer, but like someone worth knowing.
She hated how much it made her ache. So she decided to distract herself.
Y/N had never been good at parties.
The noise, the forced conversations, the social expectations—it was all exhausting. She had only agreed to join Jisoo and a few of his teammates because he practically begged her after their midterms. „Come on, just one night. You deserve a break,“ he had said, nudging her phone out of her hands.
Now, sitting stiffly at a round table in a private room of a barbecue place near campus, she regretted every decision that led to this point.
Beer bottles clinked. Laughter roared around her. Someone was shouting about chicken gizzards and sauce ratios. She stared at the amber liquid in her cup like it held the secrets of the universe.
„Y/N, you’ve barely touched your drink,“ Jisoo said, nudging her arm. He was already flushed, his easy smile a little looser than usual.
„It tastes like regret,“ she muttered.
Jisoo snorted. „One more sip. If you’re not having fun in fifteen minutes, we leave. Deal?“
She nodded. Deal.
A few sips turned into a few cups, and the buzz came on slowly. Warmth unfurling in her chest, dissolving the walls she usually kept so carefully built.
„Y/N, any romance in your life?“ one of Jisoo’s teammates called out, teasing.
She blinked. „What?“
„You’re always so serious. There’s gotta be someone making you blush.“
A few eyes turned to her, amused and curious. Y/N, still reserved but looser with alcohol, let out a small laugh.
„There might be… an idiot.“
„Oooh,“ they chorused. „Tell us!“
She swirled her drink. „He’s annoying. Always teasing. Never shuts up.“
„Sounds awful.“
„He’s also kind. Way too kind. And he doesn’t know how to give up. He keeps showing up.“
Her cheeks were flushed now, but it wasn’t just the alcohol. She didn’t see Jisoo watching her carefully.
„Y/N,“ Jisoo said gently a few minutes later, after pulling her aside near the entrance. „Do you mean San?“
She groaned, hiding her face in her hands. „I don’t know what I mean. He’s like… some virus that won’t leave my system.“
„So you like him.“
„I think I do. I think I hate that I do.“
She hiccupped.
„Okay, that’s enough soju for you,“ Jisoo said.
A few minutes later, when she couldn’t find her keys, Jisoo did the only thing he could think of: he called San.
San showed up ten minutes later in joggers and a hoodie, hair still damp from a shower.
„She’s a little out of it,“ Jisoo explained.
„What happened?“
„Midterm stress. She needed to blow off steam. I didn’t think she’d drink that much.“
San nodded, then turned to Y/N. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, hood up, eyes sleepy but sharp when they found his face.
„I lost my keys,“ she muttered.
„I’ve got you,“ he said softly.
The ride to the dorm was quiet. Y/N’s head leaned against the window, her breath fogging up the glass.
San stole glances when the lights turned red. Her lashes fluttered. Her hands were tucked into his hoodie sleeves.
She looked small. And kind of heartbreakingly beautiful.
Back at the dorm, he guided her to his room, where she flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.
„You’re weird,“ she mumbled.
He laughed. „You’re one to talk.“
She sat up suddenly, eyes focused on him like a laser.
„Why are you so nice to me?“
He blinked. „What do you mean?“
„You keep… trying. And I keep pushing. You’re a flirt. Everyone knows it. But you look at me like… like I matter. Why?“
Her voice cracked on the last word.
„Because you do,“ he said quietly.
Y/N stared at him for a long moment. Then she stood, wobbling slightly.
„I shouldn’t say this,“ she whispered, voice slurred, „but you make it really hard to hate you.“
And then she kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle. It was clumsy and uncoordinated and sudden. Her hands curled into his hoodie. Her lips were soft but demanding.
For a second, San kissed back. His mind went blank. Just her, her scent, her warmth.
Then he pulled back.
„Y/N,“ he said, breathless. „We can’t. Not like this.“
She blinked slowly, confused. „Why not?“
„Because you won’t remember. Because I want this to mean something.“
She swayed, and he caught her, gently guiding her back onto the bed.
„Sleep,“ he whispered.
She closed her eyes.
„San…“
He froze. But she didn’t say anything else. Just curled into his hoodie and drifted off.
Later that night, San sat in the kitchen, staring into a mug of tea.
Wooyoung padded in, rubbing his eyes. „You look like you’ve seen a ghost.“
„Y/N kissed me.“
That woke Woo up fast.
„She what?“
„She was drunk. I brought her back. She kissed me. And I stopped it.“
„Wow.“
„I think I’m in trouble.“
„Do you want her to kiss you when she’s sober?“
San looked down at the steam curling from the mug.
„Yeah.“
„Then wait for her.“
„I’m trying.“
In the morning, Y/N would wake up with a headache, a faint memory of warmth, and the scent of citrus and cedar still clinging to her.
Y/N pretended she didn’t remember.
When she woke up in San’s dorm the next morning, her head was pounding and her mouth tasted like regret. He had already left the room. The blanket over her had been neatly tucked, a water bottle placed beside her, and her phone charged. But she didn’t ask what happened.
And he didn’t tell her.
She just stood in the doorway with the borrowed hoodie still on her back and mumbled, “Thanks,” before slipping out of the dorm and out of the moment.
Like it had never happened.
Three days later, and San still hadn’t heard from her.
He’d waited for a message. A knock on his door. A sarcastic jab. Anything.
But there was nothing.
It was driving him insane.
“You’re pacing again,” Wooyoung said, tossing a chip into his mouth. “Stop before you wear out the floor.”
“She kissed me, Woo.”
“I know.”
“And now she’s pretending it didn’t happen.”
“Because she’s scared,” Seonghwa said, entering the living room. “She probably thinks it was a mistake.”
San scoffed. “It wasn’t a mistake.”
“You sure?” Yeosang quipped from the kitchen. “You’ve kissed half the campus.”
San turned. “And I’ve never once stopped a kiss before.”
Silence.
“Fair,” Jongho muttereDd.
The next morning, Y/N walked into class like nothing had happened.
She took her usual seat three rows from the front, opened her notes, and stared straight ahead. Her posture was perfect. Her hair was pinned back. Her expression was unreadable.
San sat two rows behind her, struggling to breathe.
He watched her scribble down formulas, the same way she always did — left margin, bullet points, perfect loops. Not even a glance in his direction.
When class ended, he stood quickly.
“Y/N,” he called, catching up to her outside the lecture hall.
She didn’t slow.
“Y/N.”
She turned. Her eyes were tired, sharp. “What?”
“We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“You kissed me.”
“I was drunk.”
“So you do remember.”
Silence.
“I don’t see how it matters,” she said, voice clipped.
San’s jaw tightened. “It matters to me.”
She scoffed and took a step back. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because—” he stopped. “Because I do.”
“That’s not a reason, San. You care about everyone. You flirt with everyone. I’m not special.”
“Don’t say that.”
She looked at him then — really looked — and something flickered in her expression.
“I don’t belong in your world,” she said, loud enough for others to start turning their heads. “So stop acting like I do.”
Students paused as they walked by. A few slowed, sensing the tension.
San didn’t care.
“You think I care about that?” he said, his voice rising. “You think this is some game to me?”
Y/N stayed silent.
“I’ve never felt like this before, Y/N!” he shouted, hands clenching. “Not for anyone.”
People were definitely staring now.
“I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight, I can’t even kiss someone else without seeing your face!”
Her mouth parted slightly. Her cheeks flushed.
“I don’t care that you’re quiet, or blunt, or awkward, or that you pretend you don’t feel anything,” he said, softer now. “I see you. I like you. All of you.”
The air felt heavy.
Y/N blinked.
“I never wanted to fall for you,” he said. “But I did. And you can pretend you forgot, but I know you didn’t.”
And then he turned — and walked away, leaving everyone stunned.
°•°°°••••°°♡•••°°°°°°°•••••♡°°•°°•°°°°°♡•••
Later that evening, Y/N sat on the floor of her room, her notebook forgotten beside her.
She couldn’t get his voice out of her head.
I’ve never felt like this before.
I can’t sleep.
I see you.
He had said it in front of everyone. No hesitation. No fear.
And she had stood there like an idiot, letting him spill his heart while she said nothing.
Why?
Because she didn’t believe she deserved it?
Because she thought he’d grow bored?
Because she was terrified of being vulnerable?
Her hands trembled.
She had spent her whole life protecting herself. Avoiding emotion. Hiding behind logic and structure and silence.
But San hadn’t just seen through that — he’d embraced it.
Back at the dorm, San sat slouched on the couch, hoodie pulled over his head.
“You okay?” Wooyoung asked.
“No.”
“That was… a bold move.”
San sighed. “She’s going to hate me.”
“Or,” Seonghwa said, “she’s going to finally admit what she’s feeling.”
“Or she’s going to block me and change Cities.”
“You did what you had to,” Jongho offered. “No one else would’ve gotten through to her.”
That night, Y/N stared at her ceiling for hours.
And in the deepest, quietest part of her chest, something cracked.
Because maybe she hadn’t forgotten the kiss.
And maybe she didn’t want to.
°•°°°••••°°♡•••°°°°°°°•••••♡°°•°°•°°°°°♡•••
It had been almost a full day since San’s confession, and Y/N still hadn’t moved past the overwhelming ache in her chest.
She had done what she always did. Pretended nothing happened. Built her wall higher. Said nothing. And he, of all people, had laid himself bare in front of everyone.
„I’ve never felt like this before, Y/N.”
His voice kept replaying in her head like a broken record.
She wanted to run away from it. From the weight of his feelings. From the terrifying possibility that he meant it.
So when Jisoo texted her „You alive?“, she asked if they could talk. Really talk.
They sat on a low bench at their usual spot in a quiet corner of the university courtyard. It was overcast, the kind of gray sky that dulled the noise of the world.
Y/N hunched over, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands.
„You heard of it, didn’t you?“
Jisoo tilted his head. „You mean the part where Choi San poured his entire heart out in front of the chemistry department? Yeah, I caught it.“
She groaned and buried her face in her hands. „It was a mess.“
„Only for you. He looked like a drama lead having his main character moment.“
Y/N shot him a look. „Not helping.“
Jisoo softened. „Sorry. But what’s really going on?“
She was quiet for a long time. Then: „I don’t know how to do this.“
„Do what?“
„Open up. Let someone care about me. Especially someone like him.“
Jisoo exhaled. „Y/N, you’re one of the kindest people I know. So what if you’re quiet? So what if you don’t say things easily? You’re not broken. You’re just scared.“
„He kissed me. Or I kissed him. I don’t even know.“
„And?“
„And it felt real. Too real. So I pretended I didn’t remember.“
He gave her a flat look. „That’s cruel.“
„I know.“
„You need to talk to him.“
„He deserves better.“
„Maybe. But he chose you.“
That shut her up.
„And for what it’s worth,“ Jisoo added, nudging her shoulder, „I’ve never seen anyone get under your skin like this.“
She gave him a sideways glance. „You mean besides you.“
„Yeah, but I’m family. He’s… something else.“
Y/N looked down at her lap. Something else. That was exactly the problem.
San had been slamming weights harder than necessary for a full thirty minutes when he noticed someone enter the gym.
Jisoo.
He was in full warm-up gear, towel around his neck, earbuds in.
San tried to ignore him. Focus on his reps. Channel the chaos in his head.
But Jisoo approached anyway.
„You trying to break your back or something?“
San gave him a look. „Not now, man.“
„Tough day?“
San dropped the barbell and sat up. „Let me guess. You’re here to tell me to back off.“
Jisoo blinked. „Why would I do that?“
„ I know you and Y/N are close.“
Jisoo snorted. „Dude. She’s basically my sister.“
San hesitated. „Really?“
„Yes. Always has been. You think I’d let just anyone embarrass her in front of half the campus without punching them?“
San blinked. „So… you’re not mad?“
„I’m protective, not possessive. There’s a difference.“
San let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. „She’s been ignoring me.“
„She’s scared. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.“
San nodded slowly. „I just… don’t know what else to do.“
„You already did it. You told her. Now you wait. And trust her to come to you.“
That night, Y/N sat curled up in bed, clutching her phone.
She scrolled back through old messages.
San: don’t forget to eat
San: this professor is trying to kill us
San: don’t let them make you feel small
The texts had always seemed like noise at the time. Friendly check-ins. Annoying persistence.
But now, each one felt like a thread in a tapestry she had never bothered to look at closely.
She opened her photo gallery. Found the selfie he’d taken on her phone when she wasn’t looking. Cross-eyed, grinning. A stupid peace sign.
She smiled.
Her thumb hovered over the call button. Then dropped.
Instead, she stood. Changed. Grabbed her coat.
And walked.
When she reached the dorm, her heart was in her throat.
She hesitated in front of the building. The windows glowed softly against the night. Her fingers trembled as she rang the bell.
It took a minute, but the door opened.
Hongjoong blinked at her, surprised. „Y/N?“
She tried to smile. „Is San home?“
He nodded slowly. „Yeah. Come in.“
The dorm was quiet. A soft murmur of music came from one of the rooms.
Hongjoong gestured. „Second door on the right.“
She knocked.
Inside, San called, „Not now, Woo. I’m not in the mood.“
Y/N opened the door anyway.
San sat up in bed, hair messy, hoodie loose. His eyes widened.
„Y/N.“
She took a deep breath.
„I remember everything.“
San stared at her like he couldn’t believe she was real.
Y/N stood just inside his room, the door still slightly ajar behind her. Her voice lingered in the air: „I remember everything.“
She looked nervous, but not unsure. Her fingers fidgeted at her sides, but her eyes didn’t leave his.
„You do?“ he asked, voice soft.
She nodded. „All of it. The kiss. The way you looked at me. How you put me to bed and didn’t take advantage of the moment.“
San let out a shaky breath. „Then why have you been acting like it didn’t happen?“
Y/N stepped further in, closing the door gently behind her. „Because I was scared.“
„Of what?“
She swallowed hard. „Of what it means to fall for someone like you.“
San blinked. His heart kicked against his ribs.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands in her lap.
„I’ve never been in a relationship before,“ she admitted. „I always thought… it wasn’t for me. That I was too quiet. Too awkward. Too reserved.“
„You’re not too anything,“ he said immediately.
She smiled, just barely. „But you’re everything I thought I could never have. You’re loud and open and charismatic. Everyone notices you.“
She looked up at him. „And you noticed me.“
San didn’t say anything. He sat next to her instead, close but not touching.
Y/N exhaled. „I don’t know why you would fall for someone like me. I say the wrong things. I overthink. I push people away.“
„And you’re kind,“ he said quietly. „You listen. You care more than you let on. You’re honest when it counts, and you have this quiet strength that makes people underestimate you. But I see it. I see you.“
She blinked back something suspiciously wet in her eyes.
San reached over, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. „I fell for you because you’re real. Because you didn’t pretend to be anyone else around me. And because for the first time in my life, someone saw me too. Not Choi San, the flirt. Not the guy everyone expects things from. Just me.“
The silence between them pulsed with energy.
Then she leaned in.
And so did he.
When their lips met, it wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t experimental.
It was inevitable.
The kiss started soft. A breath shared, a heartbeat held.
San cupped her cheek like she might vanish if he didn’t hold her steady.
But Y/N’s hands curled into his hoodie, pulling him closer.
His lips parted, letting the kiss deepen, and a quiet sound escaped him—a low, unintentional moan that made her shiver.
He pulled back just slightly. „We don’t have to rush this.“
Her fingers tugged at the hem of his hoodie.
„I know,“ she whispered. „But I want to. With you.“
His eyes searched hers. „Are you sure?“
She nodded.
San kissed her again, slower now, savoring it. „I just want to do this right.“
„Then stop thinking,“ she murmured against his mouth. „And stay.“
That was all the permission he needed.
Clothes were shed between breathless kisses. Her skin felt like warmth and want beneath his fingertips. He touched her like she mattered. Like she was precious.
Because she was.
Y/N had never done this before, but it didn’t feel foreign. It felt like trust. Like discovery.
San took his time, even as she guided him with quiet urgency. The air between them was charged but gentle, desire wrapped in reverence.
When it happened, it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real.
And when he held her afterward, bodies tangled in soft sheets and half-whispers, she buried her face into his chest and sighed.
„I think I was falling for you from the beginning,“ she said.
San kissed the top of her head. „Then I’m glad I caught you.“
San lay awake, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting gently on Y/N’s bare shoulder. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a pale glow across her features.
She looked peaceful. Vulnerable. Real.
And his.
He couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop memorizing every detail. The way her lashes brushed her cheeks. The slight part in her lips. The steady rise and fall of her breathing.
He reached out and brushed his fingers gently along her jaw.
“You’re the one,” he whispered, barely audible. “I want to build something real with you.”
Then, ever so softly, he leaned in and kissed her forehead.
Careful not to wake her, he slid out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, and padded quietly into the hallway.
He made his way to the kitchen, intending to grab two glasses of water, but was greeted by all seven of his friends sitting at the table, wide awake.
„Well, well, well,“ Wooyoung said, wiggling his eyebrows.
„Look who finally emerged from the love cave,“ Jongho teased, sipping his coffee.
San blinked. „What are you guys even doing up?“
„You weren’t exactly subtle last night,“ Mingi muttered into his cereal.
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. „So? What happened?“
San grinned, cheeks red but smile unstoppable. „She’s my girlfriend . Officially.“
A round of groans and claps echoed across the table.
„Gross,“ Yeosang said, mock gagging.
Just then, a soft voice drifted down the hallway. „San…?“
San turned just as Y/N appeared at the edge of the kitchen entrance, one of his oversized t-shirts draped down to her thighs, bare legs peeking beneath. Her hair was tousled, eyes still sleepy.
All seven boys froze.
San’s eyes widened. He moved fast, practically lunging to block her from their view.
„Hey, hey, hey! No peeking! Go back to bed, I’ll bring you water,“ he said, flustered.
Y/N blinked. „Why is everyone awake?“
„Because fate is cruel,“ Seonghwa said, shielding his eyes.
San wrapped his arms around her protectively, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her cheek, then her temple, then her forehead. „Ignore them. You look perfect.“
„Oh my God,“ Wooyoung groaned. „Make it stop.“
„Seriously, can’t you wait until we’re not in the same room?“ Jongho muttered.
But San just smiled and kissed her again.
Y/N rolled her eyes but leaned into him, hiding her red face against his chest.
And for the first time in a long time, San felt completely, irreversibly happy.
── .✦ content ; san x gn! reader, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff | tw ; mentions of food
a soft breeze of air caresses his hair, unmaking the effort he put into it. the sun sets slowly behind him, leaving behind a mix of oranges and pinks in the sky.
the day is almost over. san walks home to you, exhaustion clinging to his bones.
he enters the aging building—history seeping off the walls of the apartment, filling the space with a strange tranquility that you both love. with heavy feet, he trudges up the stairs. he securely holds a bag of your favorite food which sways with his movements.
fatigue washes down his back when he reaches the apartment door, unlocking it with familiar ease. a smile grows on his face when he hears your footsteps against the creaking wood.
this is what love is, he thinks.
this home that smells like you, and the beautiful smile on your face when you greet him. your arms naturally find their way around him despite his protests of being ‘dirty and sweaty.’
love is the tight hug and the gentle kiss you gift him each time he returns home from work. even if the sun is to fall on the face of the earth, san knows he'll be okay as long as he can return to you and your adamant ways of showing affection.
he hands you the bag of your favorite food, smiling at your gasp and the small ‘thank you.’ you press a kiss to his cheek followed by another and another one till he pats your butt with a scolding ‘hmm.’ but of course, you kiss his lips one more time before scurrying to plate the food.
the warmth of your lips linger on his skin and he stands there for a while with an ever-present smile on his face. the clash of a vessel with the floor brings him out of his trance. he hears your sweet voice singing a ‘sorry’ right after. with a chuckle, he goes off to freshen up and wash away the day’s exhaustion.
[ ... ]
the dining table you bought after searching and sorting through every store lies unused as both of you sit on the floor near the balcony.
the sound of silverware clanking against the dish gets lost in your shared laughter and fervent stories collected throughout the day's passing. love is asking about each other's day and listening to mundane activities and the occasional hot gossip with curious eyes and ears.
the chatter dies down by the time, the dishes are scrapped clean. a serene silence fills the air, only the occasional car honk accompanied by the whistle of the cold breeze present.
his hand naturally finds its way around your shoulders, pulling you close against him. the warmth of your body calms him down, and so does your pulse. and san swears that your hearts beat in sync.
you rest your head on his broad shoulder, silently staring up at the sky. the passing dark clouds conceal the moon and momentarily, the moonlight manages to seep through before being swallowed up again.
if san is ever asked the question ‘what is love?’ he knows that his mind will race back to you. back to this moonless night that is now etched into his mind. the steady sound of your breathing and the feeling of your pulse against his hand that holds you closely.
love is returning to a home where he doesn't feel the need to perform and be himself unapologetically. love is looking into your eyes before sharing a kiss, so ardent that it makes the moon hide behind the clouds shyly.
Genre: Established relationship, fluff, a bit suggestive but no smut.
Pairing: Sober bf!San x Drunk gf!reader (No y/n)
Wordcount: 1.8k
Warnings: Alcohol consumption mentioned, drunkeness, brief nudity but not described, San is a helicopter boyfriend.
A/N: Inspired by that live where San said he'd never let his wife lift a finger... yeah...
“Hello, Ladies. Need a ride?” San winks at you and your friends from his car window. You essentially cackle in response, unable to control your volume. You’d been out with a few girlfriends, celebrating one of their promotions. Your boyfriend, San, being the sweetheart that he is had offered to drive everyone home once you were done. Although by the state of you and your friends drunkenly laughing, shouting and tripping over each other, he was starting to have second thoughts.
“Hi baby!” You shout, stumbling towards him. He quickly got out of the car, catching you before you ended up on the pavement. He can’t help himself but to laugh at how cute you were, throwing yourself into his arms and looking up at him with wide, loving eyes. “Did you miss me, Sannie?”
“Of course, I always miss you.” He places a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose, causing you to snort with laughter. Seeing just how far gone you are, he decides to take immediate action and opens the car door. “Get in, ladies. You all look like you need a good night’s sleep.”
You and your friends all clamber in, still shouting and giggling when San pulls away. He takes his time to drop you friends off home one by one, waiting to watch them get inside safely. Eventually it’s just you and him left in the front seats.
“Tell me the truth, love, how much did you drink tonight?” He asks somewhat sternly, although you know he’s just trying to take care of you. You take a moment to attempt to consider exactly how much you had drunk, but give up pretty easily. The fatigue is finally setting in.
“I dunno Sannie. I did have this cool cocktail, though! It was purple and glittery.”
“Sounds good, love. Now, when we get home, we’re going to drink some water, eat a snack, wash up and go to bed, yeah?” San’s gentle parenting approach to taking care of you when you’re like this always makes your heart flutter. Unable to control your joy, you swivel slightly in your seat to be able to stare at his side profile. He’s focused on the road, but the gentle frown on his face makes you swoon.
“Okay Sannie.” You giggle, mainly to yourself, as he sends you a sideways glance. You notice his fingers tapping against the steering wheel, the silver bracelet you gave him for his birthday glinting under the streetlight. Endeared, and tired, you begin to drift off to sleep.
“My love?” You jolt awake to San stood at the car door, patting your leg softly. Realising you’ve arrived home, you whine and stretch out as San reaches over to undo your seatbelt and grab your handbag. He takes your hand and helps you to stand up. When you stumble a little, he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you upright. Whilst concerned, he still smiles warmly at your cute drunken state. “Oh, baby. You’re a mess, aren’t you?”
“M'sorry Sannie. I didn’t mean to.”
“You’re okay, love. Just let me take care of you, yeah?” He guides you inside, slowly as to keep you on your feet. Closing the front door behind you, he wastes no time in kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. Wobbling slightly, you lean your hands onto his broad shoulders. Once he puts your shoes aside, he stands back up to his full height, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and press a sloppy kiss onto his lips. He chuckles into it, before gently cupping your cheeks to push you back, knowing you’re too far gone to know your limits. “That’s enough, baby. Let’s get ready for bed.”
He pats you softly on the butt, and you know it’s a warning that he’s going to pick you up. He scoops you up under your thighs, allowing you to wrap your legs around him too. He carries you into the kitchen, placing you down onto the counter. After giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, he reaches into the fridge to hand you a cold bottle of water.
“Drink that, baby. I’ll make you some toast to soak up all that booze.” You laugh faintly, but are ultimately more consumed with trying to open the water bottle. Leaning your head back against the cabinet, you watch San skirt around the kitchen to make your toast, taking occasional sips of water as per his instructions. You’d learned before that it’s best to obey him when he’s in caretaker mode, mainly to avoid the silent treatment the next day. As much as he loves physical touch, his main love language has always been acts of service. He loves taking care of you, drunk or sober, and he doesn’t take kindly to you ignoring his efforts.
He turns back to you briefly, mouth open like he’s about to say something when he freezes, eyes fixing on your lower half. Confused you follow his gaze downwards, to see that the skirt of your dress had flipped up, exposing your underwear. Instantly, you fall into fits of giggles, while San stalks over, shaking his head. He yanks it down firmly, before cupping your rosy cheeks once again. His intense eye contact silences you instantaneously.
“What am I going to do with you?” He murmurs, before breaking into a smirk. Another kiss to the forehead and he’s back to work. After a few more moments, he’s turning to you plate in hand. He doesn’t even offer it to you, just lifts the toast to your mouth and stands there expecting you to eat. With another light giggle, you accept, taking a messy bite with a smile. San grins back warmly at you, pushing your hair behind your ear. You chew lazily while he hovers around you, silent except your occasional bites. When you’re done eating, San just puts the plate in the sink – he can do the dishes tomorrow when you inevitably sleep in.
Noticing you falling asleep again, San gives you another pat to the leg before lifting you off the counter. He moves slower this time, knowing you’re close to being completely gone. When he drops you down onto the bathroom’s toilet seat, you can barely keep your head up.
“Just need to wash up a little and then I’ll put you to bed, okay?” San half-whispers. You nod weakly in response, yawning deeply and closing your eyes. You hear him rustling for a second, but are almost completely lulled back to sleep. When San presses a wet cotton pad to your cheek, you flinch and whine. He coos at you, wiping away your makeup gently. “Stay still, love.”
“It’s cold, Sannie.” You weakly grab onto his wrist, but it has no effect on his diligent efforts.
“You’ll live. Anyway, won’t you be mad in the morning if you don’t take your makeup off?” You groan, knowing he’s completely right. After a few more moments, he finally pulls away. You go to stand up, but he stops you with a hand on the shoulder. “You need to brush your teeth too.”
He hands you the brush, toothpaste already spread. You get started straightaway, watching San walk out of the bathroom silently. After just 10 minutes at home, you already feel a lot fresher, even if you’re still dead tired. Taking initiative, you finally walk on your own to the sink. San still hasn’t reappeared after a few minutes, so you spit and rinse quickly with the anticipation of making the journey to your bedroom to find him. When you lift your head up, however, he’s already silently standing behind you, catching your eye in the mirror. When you jump slightly, he quickly tries to put you at ease with arms wrapping around your waist.
“I got you some pyjamas.” By pyjamas, he means a pair of loose shorts and one of his t-shirts. Resting your head back on his shoulder, you allow him to remove your dress and underwear, replacing them with his comfies. It’s a bit of a wrestle as your need for his physical touch doesn’t allow him to move easily, but he manages eventually. He throws your clothes into the laundry basket before turning you to face him. “If you need to pee, go now.”
“I’m fine, just want to go to bed.” With that, San lifts you up a final time, taking you to the bedroom. He’d already pulled back the duvet, and placed another bottle of water on your bedside table. He really thinks of every detail. Your head meets your pillow finally, and you instantly yawn again. But when San walks away, you whine at his absence.
“Give me a minute, my love. I need to get changed too.” With that, San disappears back to the bathroom. You lie for a few minutes, tossing and turning. Eventually he returns, looking fresher himself. When you whip the duvet back for him, grinning softly up at him, he can’t help himself but to dive into your bed and pull you into a tight hug.
“Thank you, Sannie.” He hums, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at you properly.
“You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’m just doing my job as your boyfriend.” You chuff at his sudden seriousness. He really means what he says.
“I know. You’re just so good. The best thing that ever happened to me.” You manage to stroke his cheek with your finger, although your energy is failing you. San can’t help himself but to press a firm kiss to your lips, pleased that he had fulfilled his self-appointed role.
“Okay, sappy. Go to sleep now.”
“M’kay Sannie. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.” He nuzzles his cheek to the top of your head, holding you tight in his arms. Despite the fuzziness of the alcohol and fatigue, you feel grounded and safe in his embrace. For a few minutes that is. Then an uncomfortable feeling in your lower stomach sets in. Hoping San had already fallen asleep, you try to escape his grasp, only for him to tighten his hold.
“Where are you going?” San mutters, sleep tinging his voice.
“I need to pee.”
“Baby, I told yo- fine.” He starts to get out of bed, but you just frown at him.
“You don’t need to help me; I can go on my own.” He frowns back, but ultimately lets you go. “I’ll literally be ten seconds.”
“Promise?” He holds out his pinky finger. Taking it in your own with a giggle, you then start wobbling back to the bathroom. True to your word, you’re quick. But when you get back to the bedroom, you’re greeted by San sitting up straight against the headboard, arms folded. “I told you to go earlier, now the bed’s getting cold.”
“Go to sleep, Sannie.” You flop back down onto the mattress, bringing him down into another cuddle. He lightens up instantly and relaxes against you. Within moments you’re both asleep, tangled tightly with one another.
you barely make it halfway onto the bed before SAN collapses on top of you like a wwe wrestler. “san—” you gasp, trying to fight for air as his weight sinks into you, arms already wrapping snugly around your waist.
“i missed you.” his voice is muffled against your chest, his broad shoulders nearly swallowing your frame whole as he burrows deeper like a sleepy little kitten. “couldn’t sleep right last night, because my shoulders hurt again.”
you sigh upon hearing this, threading your fingers through his dark hair, it’s not the first time he is telling you this, but you are the only person that makes it comfortable enough to endure the pain. “i told you to try sleeping on your back, or stomach.”
“i can’t,” he groans, nuzzling against your collarbone. “my shoulders are too wide, and i just keep rolling over… i almost fell from the bed.”
he’s ridiculous, like literally utterly ridiculous, but at the same you can’t really blame him for not getting a decent sleep. “so what, i’m your pillow now?”
“the best pillow,” he murmurs, pulling you closer somehow. “so soft and warm, smells like strawberry chocolate cake, and you scratch my scalp just right—ah, there, like that…” he practically purrs under your touch, muscles relaxing beneath your fingertips as you gently massage his head. his biceps flex slightly as he shifts, dragging your leg over his hip like a possessive little monster. clingy, much?
you raise a brow, not because you are not used to this, simply because it comes out of nowhere, and very abruptly. “sannie, you’re being needy today.”
“i’m always needy,” he says without shame, cuddling into your warmth, smiling against your exposed skin. “especially with you.”
rolling your eyes, pretending to be annoyed, however, your hand doesn’t stop moving through his hair, and your fingers trail down his bare arm, tracing the lines of his muscle with just enough pressure to make him twitch.
“also, i’d like to file a complaint.”
“hmm?”
“you’re making it really hard to focus on your face when your arms are out here lookin’ illegal.”
he lifts his head, a grin that reaches his eyes, even making his dimples come out of hiding. “oh? baby, do you mean these?” he flexes, just slightly, watching your eyes follow the movement.
you swat him, not hard enough, but just enough to make him stop teasing you. “san, stop that! you’re too pretty and you know it.” he laughs, before ducking back down to kiss the side of your neck: gentle, lingering, stupidly in love. “i love you, you know?”
you pause, fingers threading through his hair again. “yeah, i know, and i love you too.”
but it still hits you like it’s the first time every time. when san says those three words, you forget about everything, when you look at him, he is the only one you think about. he may be a lovesick idiot, but you are crazy in love. “and i love your stupidly wide shoulders,” you murmur into his hair. “even if they’re the reason i wake up squished half the time.”
at that moment, you felt him relax, and yes, he was asleep. san always falls asleep quickly when you are here next to him, can’t blame him, you do smell like strawberry chocolate fresh cream cake, oddly specific but that’s just san for you.
I just know that when Romeo and Juliet premiered two ye olde girlies in the pit at intermission were like didst thou see the sparks betwixt Tybalt and mercutio… aye and not from their swords alone!
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