[lcvejjoong]

better

pairing : school mate! san x fem! reader

synopsis : In the quiet of the school library, he notices the little things about you. Between shared silences and subtle gestures, warmth grows, and ordinary moments become unforgettable.

genre : slice of life, fluff, slow burn, contemporary romance, college library au

warnings : none

author’s note : i feel like im using library aus too much but the vibe is just so right 😭🤌

word count : 3.1k

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The library has always been your sanctuary.

There’s something about its silence that feels like a protective shield against the chaos of everything outside—the way whispers stay low, the way the steady hum of the air conditioning blends with the faint rustle of turning pages. 

Every time you step inside, it feels like pressing pause on the world, like giving yourself permission to breathe.

That’s why you’re there so often. That’s why you’ve memorized the rhythm of this place—the golden light that filters through tall windows in the late afternoon, the way the tables are scattered like islands of concentration, the faint scent of paper that clings to the air. 

It’s all yours.

At least, it used to be.

Because lately, there’s been someone else.

You first noticed him sitting near the back, where the tall stacks hide the view from the front desk. 

He didn’t stand out immediately—not until you realized how still he was. 

Everyone else shifts, taps their pens, sighs when they get stuck on a question. 

But him? He sits with the posture of someone who has all the time in the world. A quiet storm bottled up in a broad-shouldered frame.

He’s hard to ignore once you notice.

Not just because of his build, though it’s impossible not to notice how he fills out the hoodie he always wears, sleeves straining slightly against his arms when he stretches. 

But because of the way he seems carved out of focus itself. While others come and go, whisper and drift, he sits unmoving, eyes sharp on whatever book lies in front of him.

It should be intimidating. And at first, it is.

But then you catch small things.

Like the way he chews on the inside of his cheek when he’s stuck. Or the way his fingers tap soundlessly against the table when he’s calculating something in his head. 

Once, you even saw him stifle a yawn, immediately straightening his back like he didn’t want to appear less than composed.

It makes you curious.

It makes you watch, even when you tell yourself you shouldn’t.

And one day, he notices.

His eyes lift from the page, dark and sharp as they land on you across the room. It only lasts a second, but it’s enough to make your stomach flip. 

You look down at your notes immediately, heat crawling up your neck.

When you dare to glance back, he hasn’t looked away.

Instead, he tilts his head slightly, as if to say caught you. Then, like nothing happened, he turns back to his book.

You don’t know it yet, but that’s only the beginning.

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The second time you notice him is different.

It’s a late afternoon, the kind where golden light streams through the tall windows and lands in soft squares on the floor. 

You’re already settled into your usual spot, textbooks spread out in front of you, pen in hand. You’re halfway through scribbling notes when a shadow falls across your table.

You look up.

It’s him.

Up close, he’s even taller than you realized, shoulders broad, hoodie hanging loose but doing nothing to hide the sheer strength in his build. He holds himself with quiet confidence—not arrogance, but an ease that makes him seem untouchable. 

His eyes, though, are sharp. Calculating. 

The kind that takes everything in without giving much away.

“Do you need this?” he asks, his voice low but even. He gestures with a pen to the empty chair across from you.

You blink. “The chair?”

He nods.

You shake your head quickly. “No, go ahead.”

He thanks you with a short dip of his head, sliding the chair away to carry it back to his own table. It should end there—just a fleeting interaction. 

But then, a moment later, he returns.

This time, he holds out a pen.

“You dropped this,” he says.

You glance down at your table. Your pen is there, right where you left it. Which means…

You look back up. “That’s… yours, isn’t it?”

A corner of his mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

There’s something teasing in the way he says it, but so subtle you almost miss it. He sets the pen down on your table anyway, like a quiet offering, before retreating back to his seat.

And just like that, a pattern begins.

Sometimes it’s small, him lending you an eraser when yours runs out, you returning a stapler he’d left behind. Other times, it’s nothing but a nod across the room, an acknowledgment that you’ve both somehow started existing in each other’s orbits.

You learn quickly that he’s not the type to waste words. 

His silences are intentional, heavy with thought rather than absence. But you also notice how present he always is—watchful, focused, always a step ahead of the room.

It fascinates you. 

The way he seems so still, yet you can tell his mind is always moving. Like he’s building entire worlds behind those sharp eyes.

And though he doesn’t speak much, when he does…

“Your notes are messy.”

It’s the first time he comments on your work. 

You look up, startled to find him standing beside your table, gaze flicking over the scribbles in your notebook.

“They’re not messy,” you argue automatically. “They’re… free-form.”

He raises a brow, unimpressed. “They’re chaos.”

You huff. “Well, it works for me.”

For the first time, you catch a smile tugging at his lips—small, restrained, but genuine enough to make your chest tighten.

“Fair enough,” he says simply, before returning to his seat.

You don’t realize it then, but the library doesn’t feel like just your quiet place anymore.

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It was a few days before your finals.

You’ve been buried in assignments for hours, head pounding from trying to memorize endless information. You tell yourself you’ll just rest your eyes for a minute—just sixty seconds, then back to studying.

But your body betrays you.

Your head sinks onto your folded arms. The steady hum of the air conditioning lulls you deeper. The silence wraps around you like a blanket. 

And before you know it, you’re drifting.

When you wake, the library is quieter. Sunlight has dimmed, painting everything in softer shades. You shift groggily, blinking as your surroundings come back into focus—only to realize there’s something draped over your shoulders.

A hoodie. Not yours.

It’s warm. It smells faintly of detergent and something else—clean, a little musky, unmistakably him.

You sit up slowly, heart thudding as you scan the room.

There he is.

San. 

Sitting across the table now, book open in front of him. Except his eyes aren’t on the page. 

They’re on you.

The moment your gaze meets his, he stiffens slightly, like he’s been caught. He clears his throat, glances down at his book as if to pretend he wasn’t watching.

You tug at the sleeve of the hoodie. “This is yours, isn’t it?”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

You hesitate. “Why…?”

“You were shivering,” he says simply. His tone is even, matter-of-fact, like it’s the most logical thing in the world. Then, quieter: “And you looked tired.”

Your chest warms. He didn’t tease you for falling asleep in public. Didn’t make it awkward. 

Instead, he just… noticed. Cared enough to act without needing thanks.

You study him for a moment. His posture is relaxed, but you notice the slight tension in his jaw, the way he avoids looking directly at you now. Like he’s not sure how you’ll take it.

“Were you studying this whole time?” you ask softly.

“Trying to,” he admits, still not looking up. “But it was hard when—” He stops, biting down on the rest of his words.

“When what?” you press, tilting your head.

He finally glances at you then, eyes sharp but vulnerable in a way you haven’t seen before. 

There’s a pause, then he exhales slowly, like surrender.

“When you looked that cute sleeping.”

Your breath catches.

For a moment, the silence between you feels different—charged, warm, fragile. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, holding it tighter around your shoulders.

“Then maybe,” you say, voice lighter than you feel, “I should fall asleep in the library more often.”

His eyes widened. Then, unexpectedly, he laughs—low and quiet, but unguarded in a way that makes your chest ache.

And just like that, the library doesn’t feel like just a library anymore.

It feels like the start of something else.

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After the hoodie incident, something shifts.

It’s subtle at first. A glance when you enter, the ghost of a smile when your eyes meet across the rows of tables. 

But then it grows into something undeniable.

One day, you walk in to find him already there. And instead of settling into your usual spot on the opposite side of the room, you pause.

So does he.

San lifts his gaze from his book, head tilting ever so slightly, like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do.

Your feet carry you before your brain can stop them. The chair across from him scrapes softly against the floor as you pull it out. His brow lifts, just a fraction, but he doesn’t protest.

“You don’t mind, do you?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He shakes his head. “No.”

That’s it. No fuss, no hesitation. Just quiet acceptance.

And so it begins.

From then on, you find yourself gravitating toward that same seat. Across from him, your notes spread out, his textbooks lined with neat annotations. You work in silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward. In fact, it feels easier. Like his presence is an anchor, grounding you.

You learn quickly that San is a creature of habit.

He always organizes his materials before starting—pen lined up perfectly parallel to his notebook, water bottle placed exactly within reach. He studies with ruthless focus, eyes narrowing as he works through problems. 

Sometimes, he scribbles formulas so quickly you can barely follow; other times, he stares at a single page for ages, lost deep in thought.

“Do you ever take breaks?” you ask one day, stretching your arms overhead.

He glances at you, unimpressed. “Breaks are inefficient.”

You laugh. “So is burning out.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but a few minutes later, he sets his pen down with a sigh and leans back in his chair. “Happy?”

You grin. “Very.”

These little exchanges become routine. 

You tease him about being too serious; he counters with dry remarks about your messy notes or your tendency to get distracted. 

But beneath it all, there’s something softer. Something that builds in the spaces between words.

One evening, when the library is almost empty, you catch him watching you again. His expression is unreadable, but his gaze lingers a second too long.

“What is it?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

But the corner of his mouth curves ever so slightly, betraying him.

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The thing about San is that he doesn’t give much away.

He’s not loud. He doesn’t seek attention. He keeps his emotions tucked neatly beneath the surface, revealed only in the smallest of gestures. 

But the more time you spend with him, the more you begin to notice those cracks in his carefully built armor.

Like the way he always pushes the chair out a little farther for you before you sit down. Or how he subtly shifts his books closer to make more room on the table.

One night, you forget your highlighter. Without a word, he slides his across the table.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Don’t mention it.”

It’s so natural, so seamless, that you almost miss the way his hand lingers for a fraction of a second too long, fingers brushing against yours.

Another time, you’re shivering slightly in the overzealous blast of the air conditioning. San doesn’t say anything. But a few minutes later, he nudges his water bottle toward you.

“Drink,” he says.

You frown. “That won’t make me warmer.”

“You’re dehydrated,” he counters flatly.

“How do you know?”

His eyes flick up, sharp as ever. “You rub your temples when you’re low on water. You’ve been doing it for the last ten minutes.”

You blink, surprised. “You noticed that?”

“Of course.” His tone is matter-of-fact, but his ears are faintly pink.

Moments like these pile up, each one layering over the last until you can’t deny it anymore—he’s not just observant. 

He’s watching you. Always.

And not in a distant, calculating way. But in a way that feels… personal.

Protective.

You test it one evening.

“I’m starving,” you groan, closing your notebook with a dramatic sigh.

He glances at the clock. “It’s almost eight.”

“Exactly,” you say. “Which means we’ve been here forever.”

“Not forever.” He smirks faintly. “Just six hours.”

You gape. “You’ve been keeping track?”

“Of course,” he says again, as if it’s obvious.

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

But when you pack up your things and stand to leave, he stands too.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“With you,” he replies simply.

Your heart stumbles. “You don’t have to.”

“I know.” His eyes meet yours, steady and unyielding. “But it’s late.”

You don’t argue after that.

Walking out of the library side by side, you realize something important. San may not say much. But every action, every small detail, every quiet gesture—it all adds up to the same truth.

He cares.

Maybe more than he’s ready to admit.

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It happens on a day when you’re running late.

You’re halfway across campus, juggling a mess of notebooks, when you remember—you left your favorite pen at the library last night. The one with the little charm on the end that jingles softly when you write.

So you rush back, hoping it’s still there.

When you step inside, the library is quiet as usual, but it isn’t empty. Voices carry from the back corner—the same corner San always claims. You pause when you recognize one of them.

San.

But he isn’t alone.

Two guys sit at the table with him, their laughter filling the usually hushed space. They look comfortable, familiar with him in a way that tells you they’re close. Friends.

“You’ve been here every day lately,” one of them teases, nudging him with his elbow. “Don’t tell me you’re actually turning into a nerd.”

San rolls his eyes, flipping a page in his book. “I’ve always studied.”

“Not like this,” the other friend says, smirking. “You stay longer now. Even skip out on games with us sometimes. So what’s really keeping you here?”

San doesn’t answer right away. He sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. His expression is calm, but you can see the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

The first friend gasps dramatically. “Oh my god. There’s someone, isn’t there?”

San’s silence is damning.

The second friend leans in, grinning. “Who?”

For a moment, you think he won’t say anything. That he’ll brush it off with one of his usual short, clipped answers. But his answer catches you off guard.

“She sits across from me,” he admits quietly, almost reluctant. His gaze drops to the table, fingers drumming once against the surface before stilling. “Messy notes. Always sighs when she gets stuck. Falls asleep sometimes.”

Your breath catches. He’s talking about you.

His friends exchange knowing looks, grinning wide. “So you do watch her,” one says.

San scoffs, but his ears are pink. “I notice things. That’s all.”

“Sure,” the first one says. “Not because you like her or anything.”

There’s a long pause. You hold your breath, waiting.

And then San says, almost too softly to hear: “She makes the library… better.”

Something flutters in your chest, warm and fragile.

You don’t wait to hear more—you retreat quietly before they can spot you, clutching your forgotten pen in your hand. Your heart pounds from the realization settling in your bones.

San doesn’t just care in silence.

He notices. He thinks about you.

And when you’re not around, he talks about you too.

You’re careful on your way out—quiet steps, holding your breath.

But in your rush to leave, the little charm dangling from it jingles faintly.

The sound is small. Barely noticeable. But not to him.

“Wait.”

His voice cuts through the air—low, steady, unshakable. You freeze.

The chair legs scrape against the floor as San pushes back and stands. When you turn, he’s already a few steps away from the table, his friends exchanging wide-eyed looks behind him.

Your heart stutters. “I—I was just—” You lift your pen, flustered. “I forgot this.”

San’s eyes flick to the pen, then back to your face. He doesn’t look angry. If anything, his expression is unreadable—blank in the way that makes it impossible to tell what he’s thinking.

“Did you…” He hesitates, the faintest crease forming between his brows. “…hear that?”

You swallow hard. “Some of it.”

His jaw tightens. He glances over his shoulder, muttering something to his friends too low for you to catch. 

They take the hint, packing their things quickly before slipping out, not without a few mischievous grins in your direction.

And then it’s just the two of you.

The silence stretches. Heavy.

San exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

Your chest twists. “Why not?”

“Because.” His eyes finally meet yours, sharp and unyielding, but beneath the steel there’s a flicker of vulnerability. “I don’t… usually say things like that out loud.”

There’s a beat of quiet, and then you soften, taking a step closer. “But you meant it.”

It isn’t a question.

He doesn’t answer right away. His gaze drops to the floor, his shoulders tense. You can almost see the war in his head—the careful calculation of someone who hates losing control, who hates being exposed.

Finally, his voice comes out, low and rough around the edges. “Yeah. I meant it.”

Your heart flips.

For a moment, you just stand there, your pen clutched in your hand, his hoodie memory heavy on your shoulders even though you’re not wearing it. 

And then, before you can overthink it, you smile.

“I’m glad,” you whisper.

That makes him look up again. Really look. 

And this time, there’s no mask, no careful composure—just San, caught off guard but soft in a way you rarely get to see.

“You are?” he asks quietly.

You nod. “Because… you make the library better too.”

The silence that follows isn’t heavy anymore. 

It’s warm. Full.

For once, San doesn’t hide behind his usual restraint. The corner of his mouth lifts—not a smirk, not a twitch, but a real smile. Small, rare, but breathtaking in its sincerity.

And in that moment, you know. 

Whatever this is, you know it will get better.

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© lcvejjoong, 2025

[restlessmaknae]

a case of rising heart rate (beside you) // koga yudai (k)

The San Fransokyo Institute of Technology teams up with the Institute of Medicine for a project which involves you helping Yudai work on a healthcare assistant robot called Baymax. Little do you know, this is going to be about so much more than just the project...

➳ Characters: tech uni student!K x med uni student!female reader/you

➳ Genre: baymax au, canonical urban sci-fi, fluuuuuuuff, comedy

➳ Note on the AU: K is supposed to be Tadashi in this story and Taki is his little brother (Hamada), but I'm saying that it's a Baymax AU rather than a Big Hero 6 one is because K is alive and well in this, and there is no connection to the BH6 movie except that Taki gets into the Institute of Technology. But we do have Mochi (the cat) and aunt Cass from the original storyline!

➳ Words: 7.3k

➳ Warning: mentions of being on period and cramps, food, drinks, reader's ex is a douchebag, reader has peanut allergy and non-allergic rhinitis

➳ A/N: Happiest birthday my dearest @dat-town❤️ You guessed Baymax right, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless. ;)

The grand towers of the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology grazed the bright blue sky on this fine spring day. A sight you thought you would never see again welcomed you, and the flashback of your last visit here squeezed your heart.

Surely, he would not be here today. The university was big enough to not bump into him. Besides, what were you afraid of? He was the one who called it quits, and the one who put an end to your relationship on such a sour note. You weren’t supposed to feel scared, let alone guilty.

The gawking feeling didn’t leave you though, and while you were asking for a visitor card at the reception, crossing the corridor and getting into the lift to get to the fifth floor, you kept looking around yourself. Surprisingly, there were quite a lot of girls, something that you didn’t expect, especially after how your ex claimed that most girls weren’t smart enough to get into SFIT.

While most students walked around in lab coats at the San Fransokyo Institute of Medicine, here, most of the students wore casual clothes, but held different objects in their hands, under their armpits or over their heads. There was even one guy who had an object dancing above his fingers (in protective gloves) seemingly in the air. Another one managed to set something on fire on one of the benches but immediately managed to put it out with a hairdryer-like thing.

You shook your head and averted your eyes from the fire guy’s innovation, walking towards the lecture hall that you were supposed to go to. It was named after a professor who taught here according to the badge by the door, but you couldn’t tell who he was, even with the introductory lines. You really didn’t want anything to do with this school after your break-up, alas, here you were again.

You let out an aghast sigh before walking into the lecture hall. There was a group of students sitting close to each other and conversing between themselves in the third row, so you had a feeling that they were all from SFIT. You chose an empty seat for yourself in the fifth row, suddenly all too aware that you were an outsider here. Never mind, this initiative between the two schools seemed like a great opportunity to put yourself out there, to boost your CV and to make you stand out, and maybe even to prove to your ex that your medical knowledge could come in handy even in his field.

This initiative brought together students from the Institute of Technology and the Institute of Medicine who volunteered to be a part of a project - an innovation on the technology students’ side and the relevant medical knowledge to make the innovation work on the med students’ side. This was the third year the two institutions worked together in order to accelerate the healthcare system of San Fransokyo, to merge robotics, AI and big data with the relevant medical fields. Anyone from any year could apply, and based on the applicants’ expertise and ideas, the professors paired students with those who seemed most relevant to their innovations. Maybe that’s why you had to come to the Institute of Technology instead of the other way round.

Thankfully, you only had to suffer a few minutes wondering why you even applied in the first place before a line of professors showed up, and started introducing themselves. Afterwards, they started introducing the technology students’ ideas, and then called forward the pairs.

You were starting to get worried that maybe there was a slip-up, and your application didn’t go through because you weren’t called for a long time, but in the end, you were called last alongside a certain Koga Yudai.

You walked towards the podium, and shook hands with one of the professors who gave you a certificate for participating. Then, you stood to the side and turned around just in time to see your project partner do the same.

Immediately, you were bewitched by the sight of him. Models would be jealous of his height and proportions, not to mention his features. He was wearing dark high-waisted loose pants, a mixture of casual and formal, his slim waist highlighted by a belt. He wore a baby blue shirt that was tucked into his pants, its flowy design accentuating his broad shoulders. He looked more like a business student going for his internship at a multinational company than a tech one, but still, he looked the most stylish out of everyone here.

When he caught you watching him take his certificate, his lips curled into a gentle, friendly smile. Even his button-like eyes seemed to be smiling, and his whole face changed from solemn to soft within a matter of seconds. His whole demeanour radiated elegance and a kind of composed aura that you didn’t think anyone could possess, but he still seemed approachable and kind as he halted beside you and mouthed a simple ‘hi’, his hand raised for a little wave.

“Hi,” you whispered back to him, aware of the hustle-bustle around you two including the professors instructing everyone to stand closer to each other for a group photo.

“Can we have some students crouch down in front, so everyone could get into the frame?” One of the professors inquired, and a few students who were in the front started doing so. You were about to do the same in your knee-length dress when Yudai stopped you.

“No, no, no! I’ll do it. You don’t have to crouch down!” He objected fervently as if his life depended on it and helped steady you as you straightened your back. His touch and his words lingered longer on your skin even after he let go of you and crouched down in front of you. You could see that a few more of the other SFIT guys followed suit, and soon enough, you could all fit into the frame.

After the photos, the ceremony ended, so you had no obligation to stay longer. However, when Yudai turned to you to officially introduce himself and ask if you wanted to see his invention, you didn’t have the heart to say no. Especially after seeing how enthusiastic he was.

“It’s a robot, but not your everyday robot. I specifically want it to be a healthcare assistant robot, but obviously, I don’t have the knowledge for the healthcare part, so that’s where this project comes into play,” he admitted with a giggle as you followed him corridor after corridor. “His name is Baymax, and he’s an inflatable computerized robot made from vinyl which makes him this cute, soft and huggable companion. Baymax’s AI is based on a transcription chip that I’m currently working on, this guarantees that he’s used for the purpose I want him to be and not for something else. He can be programmed for multiple things at a time because you can insert up to four cartridge chips to contain his initial programming and any additional ones.”

He was honestly so pumped up about Baymax, it was endearing to see. You just listened to him talk and talk about what Baymax could do so far, what Yudai was currently stuck on, and what he thought the robot might be able to do with your help. At this point, he asked about your studies and what you liked researching about, and why you applied for this project.

So you told him that you were in your second year of your science training programme for immunology, and your interests lied in allergies and autoimmune diseases. He was equally as enthusiastic about your studies as he was about Baymax, and kept asking questions about how long this specialty training would last, and how you got to this point. His curiosity was understandable since the Institute of Medicine did offer a lot of different programs with varying lengths, and immunology was one of the longest ones but still shorter than most at other universities since in San Fransokyo, you already started clinical rotations from second year of your undergraduate studies.

You actually left the building you were previously in to get to the Ito Ishioka Robotics Lab where Baymax would be. On your way there, you kept bumping into other students, even the fire guy with his hairdryer-like extinguisher.

“That’s Nicholas,” Yudai explained after he fistbumped the guy. “He’s working on a foldable, easily accessible fire extinguisher that anyone can use anywhere and it can fit into anyone’s bag,” he added with a smile before turning a corner.

You were definitely impressed by what was going on around here, but nothing could compare to the moment you met Baymax for the first time in Yudai’s lab room. As he pushed a button, the charging case of the robot started expanding until you were face-to-face with a huge white - indeed cute and indeed huggable - creature that was at least two heads taller than you. Yudai pushed another button, and its eyes started blinking.

“Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion,” it introduced itself with a little wave of his hand, and your hand flew to your mouth in amazement. “What may I help you with today?” Baymax asked as you stepped closer to it, your fingers itching to reach out to it.

“Go on. Try out a scenario with him,” Yudai prompted you as he leaned against the nearby table, his arms folded over his chest. He wore a laid-back, yet intrigued smile, something that made you feel a bit bashful.

“Uhmm… I have a headache.”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?” Baymax responded immediately as part of its chest turned into a touch screen with different emojis signalling the different levels of pain. You looked over to Yudai, and he nodded gently.

“Maybe a 7?” You half-said, half-asked as you turned back to the robot.

“I will now scan you for any injuries that might have caused your headache,” it instructed before a beeping sound was heard. “No injuries detected,” it announced as soon as the beeping sound was over. “Downloading database on headaches… Download progressing… Download complete. Things you can do to ease your headache include drinking plenty of water, getting plenty of rest, trying to relax, taking a painkiller and avoiding contact with others if you also have a high temperature or feel sick. Do you want me to locate the nearest pharmacy?”

Your jaw dropped when he started listing out tips to combat a headache. Sure, it did download a database on the said condition, but still. It even offered to help you find the closest pharmacy. It was even approachable and friendly, something that kids and the elderly would also appreciate.

“This is amazing!” You turned to Yudai who was fighting a proud smile seeing your perplexed state.

“I’m still working on a few things, but with your help, I believe we can make it even better,” he announced excitedly, pushing himself off the table and walking towards you. He stopped in front of you, and all you could do was to smile up at him, totally speechless.

“Do you want me to locate the nearest pharmacy?” Baymax repeated, waking you from your stupor. You shook your head and turned back to the robot.

“Oh no, thank you.”

“You need to say that you are satisfied with your service for Baymax to shut down,” Yudai helped you out, and you did as he asked. Then, Baymax walked back to its charging case and deflated itself until it fit into the structure.

“Wow, this is absolutely amazing!” You noted once again, and this time, the technology student didn’t refute.

“Well… thank you,” he replied, a shy smile tinting his lips.

Afterwards, you exchanged contacts, so you could decide on your next meeting and how you would approach this project. Needless to say, you went back home from the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology with completely different feelings than when you had arrived.

The next time you met, Yudai came to the reception to pick you up and guide you to the lab, and you were thankful for his assistance because the whole place was like a maze for you, and you didn’t memorise your route from last time.

While you were heading towards his own lab room, you bumped into a lot of students who seemed to be on good terms with Yudai because he kept introducing you to them. There was Megan who was showing you a pair of glasses that could improve dyslexia through a circular structure around the head that helped to change the brain functions while reading - a condition that she also had herself -, Euijoo who was working on therapy animal robots for the elderly that didn’t need care unlike a real pet but could be used to boost well-being and combat feelings of loneliness; Jake who was working on an additional part for wheelchairs that would help the patients get into the structure with the efficiency of real human hands, so they wouldn’t have to do anything themselves and wouldn’t need to be afraid of falling down.

It was amazing to see how many different things they could come up with that actually aligned with real-life problems, but of course, you were most excited to work on Baymax.

That day, you ran through a few more scenarios with Baymax, adding pointers as to what could be improved - such as blood pressure and pulse monitors and healthcare products like antiseptic and plasters already installed inside the robot -, and brainstormed about your direction of further research. You suggested that Baymax could be used for different areas such as immunology by  detecting allergies, intolerances without a patient having to go through immense, faulty testing, and not being able to pinpoint what triggered their rise in histamine when so many things could point to them, plus inserting an Epipen inside the robot could potentially save lives combined with Baymax’s improved sensors; diabetics by tracking blood sugar levels, storing insulin and helping to use insulin especially on kids who couldn’t do it themselves or who had to do it at school, and even in dementia patients.

You ended up choosing immunology as this was your area of expertise either way, and you also had allergic and non-allergic rhinitis too, so you could use your own experience and symptoms to track the progress of Baymax’s work.

You were just about to suggest that you should have a break when an unexpectedly painful cramp rippled through your abdomen, and you had to gasp loudly. Baymax was immediately alerted, and started checking you for injuries before you admitted:

“I’m fine. I’m just on my period.”

You were used to awkward looks when you announced something like that, but Baymax could obviously not show any sign of awkwardness, and Yudai also didn’t seem fazed. He stepped up to his computer, and manually started downloading a database on periods, so Baymax could list out a few things that might help. Obviously, lying down, resting or having a hot water bottle weren’t your options given your circumstances, but when Baymax mentioned peppermint tea, Yudai immediately got to his feet.

“I’ll get some tea from the café. Stay here! I’ll be right back.”

“I’m really fine, you don’t-”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t be fine if I could do something to help you feel better at least a little bit, and I didn’t end up doing it,” he shared gently, his lips curling into a kind smile. You were so touched by his gesture that you could only nod in agreement, no words coming out of your mouth.

Baymax didn’t leave it at that either, and asked all about your pain levels and even if you had enough pads/tampons on you or he could search for the nearest store where you could buy one. You had rarely felt so cared for during your period, and when Yudai came back with a cup of peppermint tea, you also voiced it out to him.

“It’s only natural, at least for me. Me and my brother, we live with our aunt who’s everything but quiet, so we kind of got used to the period talk at home,” he admitted with a little bit of a giggle, and as if on cue, he was reminded that he didn’t even tell you about his genius little brother, Taki.

So he started sharing stories and pictures of Taki, and how proud he was that he was also studying at SFIT despite his young age. His eyes were twinkling with glee, and despite the fact that he seemed upset that his little brother even got into illegal underground robot fighting - something you should never tell anyone, much less their aunt, of course -, you could tell that it came from worry rather than hurt. It was very heart-warming to see, especially because you had no siblings.

After the little chat about your families, you went back to work, and started writing down bullet points for the written report that you were supposed to hand in at the end of the project. It was the most boring part of the whole thing, but it had to be done, and Yudai didn’t complain either. He added notes for the technical part, and you added your part regarding the healthcare aspect.

When you called it a day, Baymax asked again if you needed him to check nearby shops for period products, and you thanked him for his services with a smile. Yudai told you to take it easy for the rest of the day, and you obliged. Your mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of him and your session either way.

The more time you spent with Yudai, the more you enjoyed the project.

You fell into a routine of meeting on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, often staying at the lab late into the night, late enough to have dinner delivered to you and for Yudai to walk you back to the metro station. You tested and retested scenarios, real and fake, to see how Baymax would react. Yudai implemented new sensors to check for vital signals, neurological aspects (such as reflexes, mental status and sensory perception), body temperature and histamine production. The latter came into handy when you were testing what triggered your rhinitis at a given moment, so more often than not, you were testing environmental factors such as strong odors, changes in temperature and humidity, eating certain foods (both hot and cold, spicy and bland), and even hormonal changes.

The condition you had was pretty rare; you were allergic to peanuts, but you could contain it quite well, so it didn’t usually pose a risk. However, you also had non-allergic rhinitis with eosinophilia syndrome (also called NARES) which was the trickier one.

“Eosinophils are a type of blood cell which are produced to combat infections, but research says that those who have this condition, have an elevated level in their nasal tissues, supposedly because the body mistakenly produces too much. Kind of how allergies work by the body releasing more histamine. However, with NARES, allergy tests always come back negative. There is limited research on the condition, but it’s said to be chronic and might have an autoimmune component to it,” you explained to Yudai when he asked you why it was so difficult to say what you were triggered by.

That is why you were testing out so many different things. Since research was limited, you could only rely on the list of triggers that were mentioned in those papers, but even those were quite difficult to reproduce and track, that’s why Yudai implemented more precise and more sensitive sensors on Baymax, making sure that both your body’s functions and your environment could be monitored.

He always told you to tell him if you were growing tired of the examinations or you felt uncomfortable, but to be honest, you were glad to contribute to something that will help those with this condition, not only you. You knew that it didn’t mean that Baymax would be mass-produced to help detect and monitor NARES, but if you could finish up on this project successfully, so many other conditions could be assisted and improved.

Apart from the project itself, you also became acquainted with those who studied here. Euijoo, Nicholas, Jake and Megan were only just a handful of the students who dropped by to have a chat with Yudai. His little brother, Taki, also visited a few times, and you found it adorable how the younger one always tried to dodge the older one’s headpats and cheek kisses.

“I’m not a kid!” Taki would object at times like this, and Yudai would always say the same thing.

“To me, you’re still my baby brother, and you will always be!”

“Eww, gross,” Taki would then leave with a frown and you would just shake your head seeing their interaction.

You knew that Taki graduated high school early and got into the institute through their technology showcase fair and square, but you were glad that the new environment didn’t make him grow up too fast. It probably helped that his brother was always around, something that you wished you could have had when you had started med school. You even shared the same with your project partner, reminiscing about the time you had been too afraid to raise your hand in class and to go out and make friends. He listened to you attentively, never making you feel bad for sharing such things about your life.

Maybe that’s why you also dared to admit that your ex studied at SFIT, but when he heard Akira’s name, it didn’t ring a bell for him. At least, they didn’t know each other, that was good. In the sense that you were getting closer to Yudai, and the last thing you wanted was to bump into Akira with him by your side. Not that you thought that Yudai wouldn’t be the best boy that he already was if he ever met your ex, but because things were finally going well, and you really didn’t want this to ruin whatever that was going on between you two.

You were starting to get hopeful that maybe it wasn’t just you who felt this way. At first, you believed that Yudai was like this around everyone, and whilst he was kind with others too, he didn’t act the same way around others - especially girls - as he did with you.

Walking you to the metro station at night even when you insisted that it was a safe area? Always getting you something to drink from the café even before you arrived at the lab? Looking up things you mentioned the previous time, so he could understand the medical terms and conditions better? Making sure that anything he explained wasn’t too technical, even going as far as drawing on his trusty little clipboard and using Pokémon characters to explain concepts? Giving you stickers when you passed a round of testing, so that you could feel better even if the outcome wasn’t as good as you wanted? Tucking your hair behind your ear when it fell into your face while typing on your laptop? Holding your hand when you were checking your mailbox to see if you got into the clinic that you wanted for your next rotation?

He also probably didn’t share glances with others across the Periodic CaFé while he was waiting for his order, didn’t share his umbrella with others when walking home, didn’t help tie their hair up when it got stuck to their temple as the weather got warmer, didn’t celebrate their birthdays with an impromptu karaoke night and their favourite matcha pancakes when he got to know that their birthday was on the day they met up for their project.

So many big and little things alike, and yet, you tried your best to focus on your project instead of overanalysing every single thing because that’s what you were here for, right? On the other hand, sometimes you couldn’t hide the blush creeping to your cheeks or your legs turning to jelly when Yudai was close to you, and unfortunately, someone like Baymax whose job was to track your vital signals took note of it.

You were merely working on your written report that day, and forgot to turn the robot off, so when Yudai leaned closer to your typing self to check what you wanted to show him on your laptop screen, you felt your heartbeat pick up its pace.

Baymax did too.

“Y/N, there has been a sudden spike in your heart rate. It might be due to-”

The announced it in its usual neutral voice, but you immediately felt like the ground should swallow you up whole because that would be less painful than being told that your heart rate suddenly increased when the boy got close to you.

“That’s enough, Baymax,” Yudai cut the robot off with a knowing smile before he straightened his back.

“But this could signal some underlying problem such as…”

“I am satisfied with my service for today, Baymax. Thank you,” you tried to save yourself, but there was no use. Even after Baymax deflated back into its charging case, you felt your face flush and you needed to excuse yourself to use the bathroom before you could go back and concentrate on your report.

It was fine until you called it a day, and as always, Yudai left the laboratory with you. You had flashbacks to your close proximity and the way Baymax literally called you out on your project partner making your heart race, and you felt a wave of heat hit you yet again.

“Can I walk you back home today?” Yudai broke the silence, his voice quiet and gentle in the sunset-filled scenery. Even though the usual buzz of the early summer night could be heard, everything seemed to quiet down in that moment.

“W-why would you do that?” You stuttered, unable to meet his eyes to see his reaction. You were afraid that he would be able to see yours, too.

“I would like to spend more time with you. If you don’t mind, of course. If you feel uncomfortable, that’s fine, you can tell me,” he confessed, making sure that you could say no which you appreciated as always.

“No, no, that’s fine, really. I feel the most comfortable around you,” you objected, and you looked up at him, only to catch a beautiful, kind of coy smile reaching a full bloom on his lips. He seemed to be dazzling in the burgundy-orange shades of the setting sun, his eyes twinkling like little fireflies. You allowed yourself a smile in return before you had to look away because your heart just couldn’t take the sight anymore.

Thankfully, you managed to pacify your heartbeat for the rest of your trip back home, chatting about everything that came to your mind both on the metro and while walking towards your house. Yudai was an excellent company; he was chatty, but also listened attentively when you spoke up, and he was super curious and enthusiastic about everything he wasn’t familiar with. Which you appreciated because you used to feel so bad for not knowing what Akira had been talking about and he had never gone out of his way to explain them to you either, so you had just stayed quiet after a few attempts at asking questions that only ended in one thing: “that you wouldn’t understand either way.” So his willingness to learn instead of being ashamed of his lack of knowledge made you feel better about yourself when you didn’t know something either.

You halted in front of your house, shyly tugging on your light cardigan as you looked up at him. He looked down at you as if you were something precious, something that he wanted to protect, and you wouldn’t dare to question him if he said the same thing.

“You know…” He started, an amused smile playing along the curves of his lips. You had a hard time concentrating on his eyes instead of his lips when the words rolled off his tongue like that, but you had to look up to save the last of your dignity.

“Hmm?”

“I purposefully didn’t want to say anything when Baymax noticed the spike in your heart rate because we were working on the project, and I didn’t want to disturb the atmosphere,” he remarked, that smile not leaving his lips. You immediately gulped at the mention of the incident, your face suddenly feeling hot. “But I have to tell you that you weren’t the only one whose heart raced,” he admitted, reaching back to scratch the back of his neck as a light-hearted giggle escaped his mouth.

Oh.

Oh.

You froze in your stance even though your heart was hammering away rapidly as if you had been running around the house for a while now. You blinked up at him, unable to utter anything because you were trying to wrap your head around the fact that it meant that Yudai was feeling the same way.

That. He. Was. Feeling. The. Same. Way.

If it was even possible, your heart beat against your ribcage even more fervently as he leaned forward, leaning closer to your face. You could see the miniature version of yourself in his deep, dark, but warm eyes, see the creases on his forehead and the slight blemishes on his skin. You could see the lines his smiles left behind and the way his pupils dilated ever so slightly when he noticed that you didn’t back away or push him away.

Then, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead. Quiet, gentle, yet ever so consuming, you felt warm from the place of his forehead kiss to the tip of your toes. Not just warm, electrified would be a better word. As if you were charged, feelings exploding.

“Good night, Y/N!” Yudai whispered into the warmth of the summer night, a different kind of smile propped up in the corner of his lips. This time, it was a somewhat bewitched one.

“Good night, Yudai!” You wished as you smiled at him with the same kind of expression that stayed on your face long after he left.

Next week, he didn’t just walk you back home, you were holding hands while doing so. The week after, you finished earlier than usual to celebrate the end of the semester, and went out for dinner together instead of getting takeaway. It was a date. Slow but sure steps towards something that made you feel all giddy inside like a teenager in love.

With Akira, it felt like you had loved the idea of being noticed because you had been a quiet, studious girl whom boys had not really approached. You had tried so hard to stay the same, to not argue with him, to not stand out. With Yudai, it was more about loving spending time with him, and loving the way you could be yourself beside him without wanting to hide any part of yourself. You didn’t need to try to be someone else, and this kind of freedom was something that you would never take for granted again.

With the semester ending, you started your summer rotation, so you could naturally spend less time together - both by working on the project and spending time outside of it. However, you only worked in the morning on Fridays, so you had the afternoons to the project.

Yudai went from waiting for you in the lab to waiting for you in front of the clinic, so you could get lunch together before heading to the Ito Ishioka Robotics Lab together. The last thing you expected to happen during one of these cosy Friday afternoons was to bump into your ex in the corridor when you were leaving Baymax behind for the day, holding hands with Yudai.

However, there he was, Akira in all his glory, his eyes narrowing at the sight of you. Judged by the way he halted at the same time as you, you knew that he also recognised you. 

“Y/N… What are you doing here?”

“I’m working on a project with Yudai,” you explained, keeping your voice neutral. Yudai squeezed your hands a little tighter, signalling that he was there for you. He didn’t need to be told who was in front of you; you had already talked about your ex and how he had made you feel.

“But you don’t go to this university… right?” Akira furrowed his eyebrows, insufferable until the end. You wished you could have rubbed it in his face that you did go here after how he had claimed that you weren’t smart enough to date him. Alas, this was not the kind of news you could bring him.

“No. My med school has an initiative with your school where we look at the healthcare aspect of technological advancements,” you concluded indignantly. Even though you were nowhere near offensive, your tone was more chipped than usual, and the guy who was used to your shy self who wouldn’t go against anything he said appeared appalled.

“Woah, I was just curious. No need to be so rude to me.”

Maybe that’s why it hurt you so much that he called you rude when you just stated facts. He had said way worse things in way worse tones, he had no right to get offended. Or maybe it was because you had gotten used to the opposite beside Yudai; of being heard, seen and cared for, of being able to be loud and disagree and still not feel bad about it.

“That’s rich coming from someone who dumped me right in front of this institute because I’m not smart enough to be with him,” you dropped the bomb on him, but before your ex could speak up, you turned to your boyfriend, and told him that you should go. Yudai looked at you like he would get the stars just for you, and the thought broke your heart a little but mended it right after.

Akira must have been too shocked by the way you talked back to him because he just stood there, frozen, watching you two leave, but before you could get out of his sight, Yudai halted, and turned towards your ex. You had never seen him so stern, he was usually bubbly and kind to everyone, but now, his jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed on Akira.

“She’s the smartest girl I’ve worked with, and just because she excels in a different field than you doesn’t mean that she isn’t smart,” he defended you, but didn’t leave time for Akira to come back at him, he already turned around.

You followed him out of the building, occasionally glancing at him, but he stayed quiet until you got outside, and he made sure that you were far away from your ex. He started going on about how Akira was out of line, so you shouldn’t listen to him, and how glad he was that you stood up for yourself because he deserved to be called out like that.

You just listened to him, your heart full with gratitude towards this boy who showed you how you deserved more and better. He didn’t even fight or shout when defending you, he let his words register in Akira, cool and composed. You truly admired him.

“I wish Baymax could be here to give you a hug,” he ended his monologue, his lips curling into a slight pout. You tugged on your intertwined hands, shaking your head.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted, and took a step closer to be the one to hug you instead of Baymax. You melted into his embrace, inhaling in his woody scent, your heartbeat slowing down with each second passing by. You lost count of how many times Yudai just knew what to say, what to do to comfort you, to make you feel better, and at times like this, it was easy to forget that you were ever made to feel otherwise.

“Thank you,” you murmured into the crook of his neck, quiet but sincere. There was so much loaded into those two words, and he knew it for he hugged you tighter, closer to his chest, closer to his heart.

Your relationship with Yudai bloomed into a beautiful, trusting, attentive one. A space where you could be yourself, and you could be loved for that. You were eternally grateful each and every day that you were assigned to such a smart, talented student for the project, because though you were taking steps together to deepen your relationship, the project was still something that you both took seriously.

During the summer, you could naturally spend less time on the project due to your clinical rotation, but Yudai used your Friday sessions to take note of any possible improvement points, and worked on them during the week. With the summer ending, your summer rotation ended as well, and you were back on track with the project. You had some more intensive weeks before you could hand in your final written report, and you could present your project in front of the panel of professors.

“No matter what they say, we’ve done our best, and that’s what matters. There’s no one else I would have rather worked on Baymax with than you,” Yudai reassured you before the presentation, and you hugged him as an answer.

In the end, the feedback was very positive. The professors were very impressed with the way you tested Baymax real-time in front of them, and the implications of further research in both your area of studies - immunology - and other areas. They were also super impressed with the technological aspects, and even pointed out some human-like approachable features that you purposefully implemented like Baymax giving out a lollipop after an examination or telling you that you did a good job before retreating back to its case for the day.

To celebrate the success, Yudai invited you to his aunt’s café called the ‘Lucky Cat Café’. On your way there, he was chatting about the origin of the café - it was named after their cat, Mochi -, and his aunt, and that you should be prepared for many questions from her because she was dying to meet you. Though you were official by this point, with the project and your rotations and his aunt working seven days a week, it was difficult to arrange a meet-up, but now was the perfect time to meet her.

You were immediately welcomed by a colourful and cosy interior, a lazy cat lounging on a beanbag, and Taki working on his laptop when you stepped inside the café. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even notice your arrival. There was a middle-aged man making an order at the counter, so you halted behind him, your hands in Yudai’s.

As you stepped up to the counter, his aunt was about to say her usual cheery “Welcome”, but it turned into something like:

“Welco- Oh my gosh, you’re here! You’re so pretty! Oh wow, we finally meet, I’m so happy!” She greeted you beamingly and ran around the counter to be able to hug you before going back again, taking your order.

“I’ve always thought Yudai would die as a bachelor because he’s always been working on some kind of project ever since he was young. Back in the days, he just glued together seemingly irrelevant pieces, and then, he spent all day every day on his computer, and now he’s working on robots. He grew up so fast,” she chirped, a reminiscing smile playing on her lips, while you were looking at the options on the chalkboard behind her.

“Oh come on, aunt Cass!” Yudai rolled his eyes in an affectionate way.

“Don’t give me that look! You say the same about Taki!”

“But he’s really grown up so fast.”

“You guys are so dramatic!” Taki grumbled with a slightly judgemental stare before he put on his noise-cancelling headphones and averted his eyes back to his laptop’s screen.

You watched the scene unfold with an amused smile, and after a bit more family teasing, aunt Cass took your order and handed you your matcha latte and cinnamon bun, prompting you to check out their flat upstairs instead of just sitting here with the other guests. Yudai also said that he wanted to show you around, so he took the tray of your orders and brought you upstairs.

This was the first time you were actually inside the other’s house because though the boy always walked you back home, he never wanted to come inside because it was already late by the time you reached your house. So you took the time to look around, smiling at the childhood photos of the boys and the mess of Taki’s room that you saw en route to Yudai’s room.

Your boyfriend’s place was very much like him: a bit nerdy with sketches of early Baymax designs glued to a clipboard, soft with soft coloured walls, scented candles and a used journal sitting on his bed, and social with pictures of friends and family scattered around every surface from his desk to his monitor and windowsill. And then, your eyes caught sight of a bunch of photos with you.

“You printed them out?” You inquired, remembering each and every photo like it was yesterday that you went on your first date or you sang at the karaoke bar on your birthday or you went to the theme park.

“Yes. I prefer to print them out instead of only having them on my phone,” he answered, a tad bit shy, before he came up to you to hug you from behind. He then rested his chin on your shoulder, while you were looking through the printed pictures. You occasionally giggled at the ones he chose because they were so silly or you made funny faces, but all of them showed that he cared, and you were very touched by this little carousel of shared memories.

When you finished looking through the pictures, you turned around to face him. He adjusted his arms to hold you yet again, and looked down at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. You swore you could get lost in those eyes, in his care, in his love. No matter how much time passed by since the first time he let you know about his feelings, you still felt electrified from head to toe when you looked at him.

“I love you,” you confessed gently, your heart so full of your feelings towards him, you felt like you could combust any minute now.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, his lips pulling into a smile before he reached out to cup your cheeks. Then, he leaned forward for a long, soft, gentle kiss, something that melted you on the spot.

You had nowhere to rush, nowhere to go, you were home. Safe and sound in his arms, and you could not ask for anything else.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

The condition reader has (NARES) is not very well researched and understood for now, but I've tried to explain it as much as I could. This year, I was diagnosed with this condition myself, so I've incorporated my own experience as well.

Header taken from the 'Aoarashi' MV

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for &TEAM or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[slytherinshua]

　　❛ TAKE UP SPACE ❜　𓋰　古賀祐大

❪ 雪明かり ❫　　fluff hurt/comfort period comfort est. rs　yudai x f!reader　1196　cw ノ period cramps, crying, food cravings, brief mention of pregnancy/becoming parents, reader struggles with feeling like a burden to people, not proofread 〃 @1009high　⸝⸝⸝　for my first fic switching from google docs to ellipsus im so happy w the writing experience it was so nice to write ehehe. for my lovely mani pls feel better :( or ill be in ur walls >:)　/　𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

You're curled up in a fetal position on the couch, head resting on your knees, eyes closed, cramps hitting you in waves as you fight back the building tears. Yudai only got home a few minutes ago, but he's already sitting with you and rubbing your back. It's slow and calming, a simple distraction from the pain. But it's not enough, not really.

He has half his attention on you—still on the phone with his manager about some scheduling conflict. You hate to interrupt his work, even if he's supposed to be off hours now. But you need him. Need him to hug you tight, need him to whisper in your ear that the worst of the pain will be over soon and he wishes he could take it all away from you, need him to kiss you till you forget about everything else. But, even though you want it so badly, you'll be patient. Somehow, interrupting him still feels worse than the thrumming pain.

Yudai is impatient for this phone call to finish. It's stupid, really, and an issue that does not need even an ounce of his attention to get resolved. Off work hours are supposed to be down-time, precious moments with you that he doesn't get enough of. He works a lot, and balancing a relationship on top of it all is overwhelming at times. But he's never doubted you, or your ability to make things work despite his busy schedule. You're it for him. He'd choose you in a room of a million people. He would follow you to the farthest corners of the Earth. And in a few months, he knows that he'll be looking at the ring on your finger with a lovesick smile knowing you agreed to be with him forever.

Yudai wants to give the world to you, but you would never ask him to.

You're selfless, and sometimes, it frustrates your boyfriend. It's unfair that he can't give you as much time and attention as he wants, or as much as you deserve. You always say that it's more than enough for you, that being with him is all you need. But Yudai thinks otherwise.

He's caring and thoughtful and full of affection for you, but sometimes, Yudai thinks he doesn't give you enough attention. And it bothers him like an itch that won't go away—how unfair the situation is. After hours of not seeing him on a day where your cramps have not left you alone for even a second, he's still stuck on the phone.

Yudai has half a mind to hang up on his manager, silence all notifications, and finally be able to give you the full comfort you need. But he knows he'd get an earful for it the next day, and you would be horrified at the decision. You hate "getting in the way" of his work much more than you hate distance between you, and you've told him enough times that the thought is always stuck in his head. He hates that you think like that. What bothers him more is that he knows you would already be in his arms without hesitation if he wasn't still busy with work-related things.

"Book it on my day off—that's fine. I understand that it's an important brand deal, just, do we really have to discuss this right now?" Yudai mutters. You can hear the annoyance in his tone. Yudai doesn't even care if his manager picks up on it too—anything to get off this stupid phone call. After some more pushing, he finally hangs up.

"I'm sorry about that. I don't know why he's calling me so late. He should've just texted," Yudai sighs.

You lift your head from your curled up position, eyes meeting Yudai's. He mirrors your pout and pulls you fully into his arms without another word. He knows what you want right now. He's done this enough times to read you with a single glance—been with you through all the painful moments to know how to apply the bandages.

He doesn't think of it as a burden or a hassle, but more of a privilege. You think he's insane for it—acting as if it's his duty to be your personal butler on your period—but Yudai won't have it any other way. In his mind, it is his duty. He gets to be the one to hug you tightly and ward off your pain. Him, out of all people. He's the one you go to for comfort in the most vulnerable times. He's proud of it. You, who hate to be a bother so much, know that you can take up space around your boyfriend.

It wasn't always like this. Yudai still remembers the times when you were too embarrassed to complain about the pain, even when it was something as natural as period cramps. He holds you even tighter at the thought, pressing a little on your lower stomach, right where it hurts the most. You whimper a little and curl into him more. He kisses the top of your head.

"Did you eat dinner? Craving anything? I can order something to be delivered," Yudai offers with a kiss to your lips.

"Something spicy. And some chocolate?"

Your boyfriend has it done within the next minute. You're not even sure how he keeps track of all the food delivery apps on his phone. He seems to have one for every cuisine on the planet. Yudai has always been a big foodie, and he usually tries your period cravings with you. They are never too outlandish, but he does like to slip jokes about what your future pregnancy cravings might be, making sure you know that he will also try those without hesitation.

Those comments always make you blush when they slip out. Starting a family with Yudai is… a decision for farther in the future. You both want it. It's always been a matter of when not if, but neither of you are fully ready for that responsibility yet. You let your mind wander a bit further down that road. With the way Yudai is holding you tightly and pressing kisses to every inch of skin he can get his hands on, you can only imagine how loving he will be to his future kids. How worried he'll get if they ever got sick. How protective he'll be of them…

You shake the thoughts off before they have a chance to bring your tears back for a different reason. The image of your boyfriend as a dad is too much for your mood swings to handle, so instead, you focus yourself on something else. Yudai's lips are soft and plush as they graze the skin of your neck and then a bit lower. He's taking his time mapping out the dips and curves of your collarbones, but you want something else. You tug gently on the collar of his shirt. The action is more than enough for him to know what you want.

His lips tangle with yours faster than you can blink, and at last, you have what you wanted.

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[jyuugyoza]

Little Things Like This

pairing: Koga Yudai x Y/N

genre: Office Romance, Fluff, Slice-of-Life

wc: 7,632

She thought she didn’t need help. He gave it anyway—with an umbrella, a quiet smile, and a slice of bread that changed everything.

CHAPTER I: Where the Rain Found Us

It starts raining just as the office clock blinks to 8:00 PM

She’s the last one out of the building, aside from the cleaning staff wheeling their carts down the hall. Her ankle still hasn’t fully healed from the accident last week, twisted it during a company dinner when she missed a step in her chunky platform shoes. The same pair she’s wearing now.

Probably not the best choice for a rainy night, but they were the only shoes that didn’t put pressure on the bandaged part of her foot.

She grips her umbrella in one hand and balances her laptop bag in the other, careful as her crutch taps gently on the wet pavement. The street glistens under soft orange lights, rain painting the city in slow, glimmering strokes.

“You’re seriously walking like that?” a voice says behind her.

She turns.

Koga Yudai—shirt sleeves rolled, tie loosened, hair slightly damp as if he’s been outside a while. He holds a convenience store umbrella in one hand and a can of hot coffee in the other. Somehow, he looks more relaxed after a full workday than most people do on weekends.

“You scared me,” she mutters.

“And you’re scaring me,” he replies. “Crutch, rain, slippery sidewalks, platform shoes. what is this? A survival game?”

She exhales, amused. “It’s fine. I’ve got balance.”

“Barely,” he says, stepping closer and gently tugging her bag from her shoulder before she can protest. “Let me walk you.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to.”

He shifts the umbrella to cover more of her than him, and they start walking. His pace is slow, careful. The city hums around them, passing headlights, distant footsteps, but under the umbrella it feels quiet. Almost private.

“You always wait around for coworkers limping into the night?” she asks softly.

“Only the ones I like,” he says without missing a beat.

She glances at him, startled, but he just offers a small, lopsided smile, like he didn’t just drop that line so casually.

They walk in silence for a moment, the soft tapping of rain above them, their shoulders nearly brushing. Every now and then, his fingers graze hers.

“I’m not used to this,” she finally admits. “Having someone notice. Stay. Carry things for me.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “I kind of figured.”

“Does it make me difficult?”

“No,” he says, then glances at her. “It makes you strong. But maybe you don’t always have to be.”

She nearly slips when they pass a puddle. Before she can react, his arm slides around her waist, steady and certain.

“Told you,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

Her breath catches. She doesn’t know what to say, so she just nods, her heart fluttering louder than the rain.

When they reach the station, he hands her the cup of hot coffee. It’s warm against her fingers, warmer than the air between them.

“Something to hold onto,” he says. “Until I see you tomorrow.”

She looks up. “You assume I’ll want to see you again?”

He smiles—wide, boyish, teasing. “I don’t assume. I just hope.”

The train arrives with a soft hiss. As she steps inside, she glances back.

He’s still standing there in the rain, umbrella tilted slightly to the side, hair messy, expression soft.

And somehow, the weight of everything—her bag, her ankle, her day—feels easier to carry.

Chapter II: The Softest Piece

The next day, the sun is out again, but the air still smells like rain. The office buzzes quietly, keyboard clicks, paper rustles, a phone ringing somewhere in the back. She walks in just after nine, her crutch steady beneath her arm, her ankle wrapped switched out for her now-familiar platform shoes.

She's still not used to moving slowly, but she’s getting used to being noticed.

Especially by him.

Koga Yudai isn’t at his desk when she arrives. His tie is draped over the back of his chair, two half-empty coffee cups stand beside a forgotten notebook, and the air feels faintly like citrus and cologne. But the man himself?

Nowhere.

She doesn’t need to wonder long. Behind the conference room glass, he's in the middle of a call, headset on, sleeves rolled up, voice low and fast as he clicks between charts and spreadsheets. The screen shows a sea of unfamiliar faces and time stamps from London and New York.

Overseas branch, quarterly review.

It's nearly noon. Most of the team is filing down to the canteen, laughing and chatting, lunch trays clattering in the distance.

He’s not with them.

That’s what strikes her most.

Yudai always eats at the canteen.

He’s the kind of guy who shows up early to beat the line, who insists the beef teriyaki is best on Friday, who teases the interns for skipping meals and steals their ebi furai when they leave it untouched.

But today, his food tray is missing. His soup is cold. And he’s been talking for hours.

She glances at the small bag in her hand, just a slice of soft milk bread she bought on the way in. She’d planned to eat it quietly at her desk, but… it feels like it’s meant for something else now.

A gentle knock on the glass.

He turns, surprised. And when he sees her, the tension leaves his shoulders just a little.

Sliding the door open, he pulls off one side of his headset and leans toward her.

“You okay?” he asks first, out of habit.

“You usually ask that when I’m limping,” she says, smiling.

“You are limping.”

She lifts the slice of bread in a pack.

His expression softens immediately. “Is this… for me?”

“You haven’t left the room. I figured if I waited, you'd pass out and I'd have to carry you.”

He chuckles, takes the bread gently, and murmurs, “That would be embarrassing.”

“Extremely,” she says, then pauses. “But I would.”

He looks at her then, really looks—like she’s the only still thing in his spinning day.

“You brought me milk bread?”

“Hm.” She nodded.

“Because I thought maybe you needed someone to.”

There’s a beat.

He bites into the bread. His eyes flutter shut for a second, like he’s tasting something more than flour and butter.

“I’m ruined,” he says.

She huffs a soft laugh. “It’s just bread, Yudai.”

“It’s not. Not when it’s from you.”

His voice is quieter now. The glass behind them reflects the soft noon light, and for a moment it’s just the two of them in the center of the world.

He opens the door wider.

“Stay for a sec?”

She nods. Leans against the frame. Doesn’t say anything more.

He goes back to the call, finishing the last ten minutes in rapid-fire Japanese and English, but his eyes flick to her often—like he’s checking she’s still there, like that matters more than anything on his screen.

When the meeting ends, he pulls off his headset with a groan, spinning slowly in his chair to face her.

“That was brutal.”

“Bread helped, though?”

“Saved me.”

She steps closer. “You owe me a real meal now. One that’s not made of carbs and pity.”

“I’ll do you one better,” he says. “Dinner. Tonight. Just you and me. No conference calls. No crutches. Just us.”

She blinks. “You’re serious?”

He grins. “I’m always serious when I’m starving and emotionally fragile.”

She tries not to smile. She fails.

“Fine. But only if you promise not to steal my ebi furai.”

“No promises.”

He stands, slinging his jacket over one shoulder, already moving toward the elevators.

“Wait,” she calls. “You’re leaving now?”

“Early Dinner. With you. Consider it me catching up.”

“Catching up to what?”

“To you,” he says, pressing the elevator button. “Because you’re already three steps ahead, and I’m kind of hoping you’ll wait for me.”

She steps in beside him, crutch tucked beneath her arm, heart fluttering louder than the elevator chime.

“I’ll wait,” she says. “As long as you don’t forget to eat.”

“I won’t,” he replies. “Not if you’re the one feeding me.”

END.

[blissfullsvn]

wish you were sober

pairing. kim leehan x reader genre. best friends to lovers (?), fluff, a sprinkle of angst, mutual pining word count. 1.8k warnings. reader is drunk and attempts to kiss leehan in this state (+ reader is shorter than leehan and wears makeup) masterlist

all it takes is one call from you, calling out his name with a voice that’s poutier than normal, before leehan’s striding out the door with his car keys in his hands.

when he sees you, you’re leaning against an electric pole, hugging it like it’s your lifeline. your other friends are around you, trying to pry you off, but you only push them away. from where he parks, he vaguely catches his name falling from your lips before he marches towards you and calls out your name himself.

you look up, eyes widened like saucers. instantly, as if you’re electrocuted, you pull away from the pole and glare at it, reprimanding. “you’re not leehan.”

the group around you bursts into laughter, and leehan can’t help the small chuckle that escapes him either. when he walks closer to you, you immediately cling onto him the same way you did to the pole, your cheek squished against his chest.

“my leehan is here,” you mumble.

he would have melted—no, dissolved—if not for the fact that he’s wholly supporting your weight and that all your friends are eyeing the two of you giddily. hence, his legs are forced to hold up straight, even though his heart is nothing but putty in your hands. he translates this through his expression instead, softening as he looks down at you and gently pats your head.

after thanking your friends for taking care of you, he walks off with you in tow. with one hand placed securely on the small of your back, he opens the car door with the other and attempts to seat you in the passenger’s seat. it takes a bit, because you’re reluctant to leave your hold on him, but he eventually gets you inside the car.

still leaning over, he easily fastens your seatbelt with a click. when he tries to pull away, however, you immediately snake your arms around his neck, holding him in place. it’s so sudden that he drops his hand onto your thigh for balance, but he quickly moves it before the touch can linger.

you’re staring at him, eyelashes fluttering. unlike your previous demeanour, your eyes seem to have more clarity in them now. you’re looking at him as if you’re searching for something beyond, while he’s looking at you as if he’s searching for a way out.

it’s too much. the blasting music down the street, the whirs of engines on the road, the mix of breaths between you, the ghost of your fingers on his nape, the weight of your eyes on him, the beat of his heart against his chest.

he feels too much, and yet, he can’t take his eyes off you.

slowly, you drag one hand from his nape, your fingers brushing past his ears and sending shivers down his spine, until it settles on his jaw. you cradle it gently, your thumb caressing his cheek. then, for a sliver of a moment, you drop your gaze.

it’s just a split second, but he catches it all the same. without realising, he finds himself flickering his eyes as well, and it’s all the indication you need to pull him closer.

that’s when leehan smiles, and then removes your arms around him easily. “get some rest. i’ll wake you up when we arrive.” he pats your head before shutting the car door.

when he climbs in the car from the opposite side, you’re facing the front and blinking blankly as if you’ve been slapped. he resists the urge to hold your hand like he always does on car rides, and forces his eyes to the front before driving off.

you do end up falling asleep, and when he gets you out of the car, he has to hoist you up against him snugly because you’re leaning your entire weight on him again. he doesn't mind, never when it comes to you, so he keeps his arm around your waist the entire time he’s bringing you up to your apartment. even when he reaches your door and has to fish out the spare key you gave him from his bag, he makes sure his hold on you is secure and that you’re resting your head on him.

when he unlocks the door, it seems to have briefly snapped you out of your delirium, because you’re removing yourself from him and staggering towards the sofa, much to his concern. he swiftly moves next to you, guiding you to the soft cushions and gently laying you down.

you immediately shut your eyes, quick to fall asleep again. at this, leehan sighs as he brushes the hair away from your face. “don’t wanna wash up first?” he asks softly. when you scrunch your nose in displeasure, he lets out a small smile. “not even your makeup?” he prods, and you respond with a quiet groan before you fall silent again.

his smile increases and he nods. “okay. just rest.”

truth be told, the alcohol in your system has already started to dissipate bit by bit, so even if you wanted to sleep—and never wake up again after what happened in the car—you couldn’t help but register all the stimuli around you, effectively reconnecting your consciousness to the world. this includes the ruffles of leehan’s clothes as he stands up and the fading of his footsteps as he opens the door to a room, prompting a series of noises from within, before the footsteps are fading back in until they cease right next to you.

the shuffles are heard again as he sits down, then the light sound of bottles hitting the floor. you furrow your eyebrows, finally opening your eyes just in time to see leehan place a soaked cotton pad on your face.

leehan immediately smiles when he meets your gaze, and he wordlessly prompts you to close your eyes so he can place two cotton pads on them. you do so without a fight, though your insides are practically fighting.

“let me know if i’m too rough,” he says, then begins swiping a cotton pad across your skin. he lets the ones on your eyes sit for just a little longer before he gently wipes off your eye makeup. “i’m sorry,” he lets out meekly when he has to apply more pressure on a stubborn area.

you remain silent the entire time, but you open your eyes again when you feel a warm towel on your face. he meets your eyes and smiles, as softly as how he’s dabbing the towel on your skin, wiping away the residue of your makeup remover. he does this a few times; washing the towel in the bowl of water and squeezing out the excess; and you keep your eyes on him all the while.

when he thinks he’s successfully cleaned your makeup, he adjusts his position, ready to stand up, but your voice immediately halts him.

“leehan,” you call, quiet and almost vulnerable.

he places your skincare back on the floor and faces you completely. “yeah?” he responds, round eyes staring at you softly… and fondly.

“you just took off my makeup,” you state matter-of-factly, ignoring your astute observation which has only added to the whirlwind inside you.

leehan blinks, then nods. “did i do it wrong?” he asks. “but i did it like this last time too… and the youtube videos….” he trails off, talking more to himself than anything.

“leehan,” you begin, your eyebrows furrowing. “do you do this for your other friends?”

he looks almost scandalized at your question. “no?” he lets out in incredulity. “you know i only do this for you.”

recollections of all the times you had been drunk and all the times he had taken care of you without any complaints, including taking off your makeup, flash across your head.

you suck in a sharp breath, looking him in the eyes directly. “then why?”

leehan tilts his head. “what do you mean?”

you avert your gaze, suddenly feeling too seen by him. silence encompasses you for a while and he allows it, waiting for you but not urging you—it’s little things like this that made you realise you never stood a chance against the line that threatens to be crossed in your friendship.

you hope he feels the same when you ask, “why did you reject me?”

the air feels heavy when you drop the question, and the silence that follows is even more so. you don’t dare to look at him, especially after the prolonged hesitance from him. still, you wait, even though you’re already close to withering inside. but when he finally speaks, the last bit of hope you’ve futilely held onto escapes like a droplet of water from a broken pipe.

“you’re drunk,” he says, but he instantly realises the gravity of his words when he sees the way you falter, the way he can hear a crack from you—and he feels himself shatter as well.

“no, y/n, i didn’t mean it like that,” he coaxes, getting up on his knees and placing a hand on your arm when you turn away from him.

“what other meaning is there?”

he pats your arm, prompting you to turn around. “look at me, y/n, please,” his tone is so sincere that you waver, glancing back at him.

“i said you’re drunk not because i’m trying to dismiss what you said,” he says firmly, needing to be as clear as possible. “but because it’s just not right for me to accept any gesture like that in your state,” he starts, then adds softly; hesitantly, “as much as i wanted to.”

the tears prickling at your eyes had been so close to falling until you caught what he said at the end. suddenly, your tears are gone and all you’re left with is confusion.

“hold on,” you turn to face him fully, momentarily surprised by the lack of proximity between you before you focus again. “did i hear that correctly?”

leehan’s ears turn an evident cerise, but he doesn’t move his eyes that are blinking up at you roundly. “i don’t want to talk about this when you’re drunk,” he laments, almost petulantly.

“i’m not drunk,” you refute firmly, and while you know it’s not entirely false, you also know your best friend wouldn’t fall for it.

“i’d rather spill my heart out when you’re not seconds away from passing out.” he attempts a joke, one corner of his lips quirking weakly, even though he feels like his heart is actually about to spill out his chest with the way it’s rattling his rib cage in anxiety.

you don’t have the energy to entertain him, so you remain tight-lipped as you stare at him.

leehan breathes out, deflating as he opens his mouth again. “instead,” he says, all traces of playfulness gone. “please… remember this moment.” he looks at you through his lashes, suddenly seeming so small, and his tone is too solemn, too desperate. “i’m not sure if i can handle another seven years.”

a/n. i just wanted to write abt leehan taking off ur makeup when ure drunk idk why it turned into a word vomit 😭 but i hope it was enjoyable to read!

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

[4ranghaes]

obligatory leehan req :3 for the song thing

song fic!💋

now playing… wake me up by ed sheeran

kim leehan x reader [fluff, gender neutral!reader]

a/n - the playlist in question is my one where i add a song every day of 2024 so there are some really questionable ones on there and im so glad this was my pick😭

19:36 - “y/n!” donghyun’s voice carried through your apartment, “y/n?”

the lack of reply made your boyfriend furrow his eyebrows, taking his shoes off and walking into your living room. a goofy smile spread across his face, seeing you asleep on the sofa, shrek playing quietly on your tv in the background as your face was smushed into your hand.

donghyun continued to giggle, walking over to the sofa and perching quietly next to you. he paused the tv and removed the rubbish that had accumulated from around you.

you whined slowly, groaning as you stretched out your body.

“oh!” donghyun exclaimed, “your highness is finally awake.”

you set your eyes on your boyfriend, groaning, “oh god, when did i fall asleep?! how long have you been here?!”

donghyun giggled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before kissing your cheek, “not long, don’t worry.”

you sighed in relief, donghyun sitting back against your sofa and opening his arm for you to sink into his hold. you did as he expected, cuddling close to him before shutting your eyes again. donghyun laughed, forcing them open again as you moved to glance up at him.

“nothing,” he smiled, forcing your head back against his body as you closed your eyes again. donghyun could tell, feeling the brush of your eyelashes on the side of his cheek.

his arm wrapped around your body, his other intertwined with your left hand. he held it up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back before beginning to admire it.

“go away,” you spoke, voice slurring as you already fell back into sleep as he circled the bottom of your third finger with the tip of his.

he looked at the tan lines surrounding the finger where you always wore the ring bought for you on your 18th birthday. he smiled, could do with one on your ring finger too.

letting go of your hand, donghyun placed his own against his pocket, feeling the square box in its rightful place. soon.

“play with my hand again,” you mumbled, shoving your hand into his.

donghyun laughed, doing as you said, “yes, your highness.”

[4ranghaes]

leehan as hearthrob????

drop that leehan x f! reader! angst/fluff reader kind of running after leehan 😝

kim leehan x reader [fluff, fem!reader]

a/n - this may be a bit different to my usual blurb structures but i had an idea IMMEDIATELY after reading this and i had to see it through…

warnings - use of real name, mentions of reader getting bullied

16:08 - “y/n.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, turning around, “donghyun?”

he smiled, “wait up.”

you looked around for anyone else around you who might’ve had the same one - there was no one at all, let alone name twins. you paused, watching the boy jog slightly until he reached your side, “are you walking home? i’ll walk with you.”

“uh..” you faltered, donghyun smiling kindly as he placed his hand out, indicating you to walk. “look, if this is some sort of prank, or if your friends are waiting round the corner to laugh at me just save it - i’ve had a really long day.”

now it was donghyun’s turn to be confused, furrowing his eyebrows and grabbing your arm as you brushed past him. “what? no. my friends all went home hours ago. i was at dance practise. it runs the same hours as your club,” he explained, beginning to walk along side you, “and no this isn’t a… a prank? i just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

“why?” you scoffed, looking up at him. god he’s handsome.

i mean, of course, that’s why he was as popular as he was. that and the air of mystery he had about him. the way he never spoke to anyone except his very select few friends, even in class, despite getting the top grades. he kept to himself even though he was part of several extra curricular activities, and showed little to no emotion for any of them. you supposed that’s why the girls were obsessed with him - with the idea of him. why they fawned over him at break or secretly filmed him in p.e. or even confessed by giving him extra desserts at lunch or leaving chocolate and letters in his locker.

“because i like you.”

you choked on air, stopping in your tracks, “wh-what?! donghyun – we don’t even know each other!”

he smiled, stopping after a few paces and turning around to face you, “i know, but we’re in the same classes, right? and i’m always watching you… that sounds creepy, but– i just mean that you’ve always intrigued me. i love watching when you fall asleep during the teachers explanation o-or when you bitch to your friends about the teacher or even other students. and when you chew on your pen when you don’t understand!”

you were still confused, but there was sincerity behind donghyun’s eyes, and a glimpse at a personality you’d never seen coming from him before.

“it’s like–” donghyun continued rambling, “corydoras. in their natural habitat they have to come to the surface to breath in oxygen because it’s so murky where they live along the bottom. for me, school is like the bottom of the river, and whenever i need oxygen i look… at… at you.”

“what?” you breathed, shocked at his sudden confession and confused at his sentiment, “what’s corydoras?”

donghyun’s mouth dropped open, as he contemplated his whole speech, “it’s a– uh… a fish.”

you bit back a smile, “a fish?”

he nodded, “can i at least walk you home? i’m sorry for taking up your time, i just wanted to let you know how i felt.”

you nodded, beginning to walk again, remaining close to donghyun’s side.

“i… i don’t know you very well,” you started, “but you’re lovely, donghyun. and i’m willing to get to know you.”

“really?” he asked, breaking out in a smile as he looked down at you, nodding in response, “well then, let’s do that. i’ll– we can eat lunch together.”

you thought suddenly of the crowds of girls, eyes on only him in the cafeteria. you hummed, “o-or, outside of school!”

“you don’t have to mind them, really,” he smiled, slightly saddened, “i don’t.”

you sighed, the realisation suddenly dawning on you that maybe it was better to live your high school years in the shadow of anonymity like you did, than be the one who everyone threw themselves at constantly, “so tell me about these corydoras, then. surely it’s counterproductive to live on the bottom if they can’t breath.”

“well no, because they play a very active role in the ecosystem! even in a tank. i have ten in my fish tank at home if you want to meet them one day.”

extra? ->

the next day, 12:13 - you clutched the lunch tray tightly as you turned around, scanning the hall. all you had to do was follow the eyeline of most people. lunch had only began not even 15 minutes ago and he already had three trays on the table beside him, fruit and yogurts left over as though given as offerings.

“y/n!” he smiled, standing up and smiling. you smiled at the action, you don’t think you’d ever seen him displaying that much personality in school.

now, though, all the eyes turned to you. you took a breath, smiling politely as you started to weave through the tables, reaching donghyun’s when he finally sat back down.

you sat opposite, putting your tray down and climbing onto the seat. the angry and confused stares of the majority of the school - same age, younger, older, girls and boys was on you, but donghyun just continued to stare at you and smile.

“you’re seriously pretty,” he murmured, reaching out and tucking some stray hair behind your ear.

you blushed, smiling. he knew just how to get your attention back on him.

“donghyun!” you suddenly exclaimed, looking at his tray, “you barely have any food!”

he shrugged, “don’t eat much.”

“please,” you exclaimed, exasperated as you picked up some of the noodles you had on your tray, passing them over to his.

he smiled at your caring face, “thank you.”

“and don’t eat any of the desserts,” you said, sudden jealousy passing through you as another one got put on the table with a hair flick and a ‘hi donghyun’, “you can have mine.”

donghyun chuckled, picking up and holding your hand as it rested on the table, “yes, princess.”

[icyminghao]

knocking on heaven’s (your) door

pairing: leehan x gn!reader genre: fluff, some angst, neighbours!au, highschool!au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, leehan is so whipped it hurts word count: 3.5k

summary: leehan has been by your side your entire life. but when you start seeing him in a different light, will your friendship with him still stay the same?

bonus: in leehan’s eyes

Leehan has always been your constant. 

From the moment you showed up to his neighbourhood at six years old knowing absolutely no one other than your parents, he was the one person who accompanied and played with you even though you knew he clearly had other preferences for games. You heard him grumbling to his mother sometimes when he thought you couldn’t hear them, but you were always silently grateful that he never stopped playing with you.

When middle school came around, you were worried about what was going to happen to your friendship with Leehan. See, Leehan was an extremely extroverted and easygoing person, who just seemed to get along with everyone without much difficulty. You, however, had to try a little harder to make friends with people due to your shyness. Leehan had made so many new friends just from the first day of middle school, and you found yourself hanging out with him less and less during school as the weeks went by, making you grow increasingly worried that he would abandon you for someone “cooler”. 

“Han, you know you don’t always have to walk home with me, right?” you asked one day as the both of you were walking home from school. Although Leehan hung out with you less while you were in school, he’d always wait for you after school to go home together, and you didn’t know what to make of it. Were the both of you still friends? Or just people who lived next to each other?

“What do you mean? We’re literally neighbours,” Leehan raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Like, you can always go hang out with your friends, I know they usually hang out after school. I can always go home by myself, you know.” you explained, turning to look at his reaction. 

Leehan suddenly stopped, and you didn't realise until you were quite a few steps ahead of him. Jogging back to stand in front of him, your heart beat faster in anticipation (or dread?) at his reply. 

“y/n,” he started, looking into your eyes with so much intensity you found yourself looking down at your feet to avoid eye contact instead, “you’re my best friend. Those people you’re talking about don’t know me better than you do, or longer than you have, so why bother?” 

You looked up to face him. You didn't know why, but the title of 'best friend' somehow warmed your heart and made you feel sick to your stomach both at the same time. “I mean, you could always choose to hang out with them, let them get to know you better, you know?”

“You’re so silly. I’m not bailing on our daily routine just to hang out with mere acquaintances, y/n. Let’s go home now, yeah? I’m starving,” Leehan let out a laugh so melodic your breath hitched for a second, and reached out to ruffle your hair before turning to continue walking down the street like nothing had happened. 

You remained rooted to the ground, mind reeling. Why was your heart beating faster than usual? 

“Hey, stupid! Are you coming or not?” Leehan shouts from a distance away, snapping you out of your trance. 

“I am, I am!” you shouted in reply, running after him.

Whatever this was, you were glad Leehan was still by your side.

“Are you thinking about loverboy again?” an exasperated sigh snaps you out of your daze, and you look up to see Hikaru looking at you with her eyebrow raised, Jungwon sitting beside her looking unbothered.

“I wasn’t, and who said anything about him being loverboy?” you reply defensively, sitting up to face your friends. Leehan wasn’t the only one expanding his social circle as the two of you grew older, as you found yourself becoming fast friends with Jungwon and Hikaru during middle school, your friendship lasting all the way to high school now. 

“So you were thinking about Leehan,” Hikaru giggles with the kind of satisfaction someone would get after finally getting a math question right after an hour, shaking Jungwon’s shoulders in delight. "you guys are so in love it physically pains me to watch."

"I was not thinking about Leehan! And we are not in love, Hika, don't say that so loudly!" you shush Hikaru desperately, looking to Jungwon for help.

Jungwon simply shrugs, deadpanning, "She's right. You guys are stupidly in love with each other it makes me want to die."

"We aren't! I am not in love with him, and he is not in love with me. We've been neighbours for nearly our entire lives. We’ve seen each other in our awkward phases. There's no way he'd ever be interested in me in that way, ever." you defend yourself passionately, unsure why this topic is even eliciting such a huge reaction from you. The truth is, you have thought about being in a relationship with Leehan, but he seemed so out of your league that you gave up on it early.

"Oh, yeah? Then tell me why he's looking over at you with heart eyes right now." Hikaru glances behind you nonchalantly, and you turn around only to lock eyes with Leehan from across the cafeteria, sitting with five other guys, one of whom you recognise to be Taesan from your Calculus class.

Leehan brightens visibly upon meeting eyes with you, waving animatedly at you like he was seeing you for the first time in a long time. Endeared, you beam back at him before turning back to see both Hikaru and Jungwon looking at you with an 'I-told-you-so' face.

You sigh. "He's just friendly like that, okay? He would have done the same to any other friend of his."

"Who would've?" an ever-familiar voice pipes up, and you jump in shock at the sound as Leehan slides into the seat beside you, greeting your friends as he settles down. You don’t miss the hint of bitterness laced in his voice, but you choose to ignore it in case you were being delusional.

“You scared me, Han! What are you doing here, anyway?” you grumble, trying your best not to make eye contact with Leehan.

“Aw, can’t I pay a visit to my favourite person and their friends just because? Your conversation seemed more interesting than whatever the guys were talking about, anyway,” Leehan teases, his signature smile creeping up his face. You can’t help but stare at him in awe, and Hikaru definitely notices.

“Oh, really?” Hikaru pipes up, raising her eyebrows at you. “What were they talking about?”

“Jaehyun has been trying really hard to set me up with someone, and it was getting annoying, so I figured whatever you guys were talking about had to be more interesting than the pure torture I’d have to go through if I stayed there,” Leehan explains, looking at you the entire time to gauge your reaction. “So, who were you guys talking about before I came here?”

“trying really hard to set me up with someone” you turn over the words over and over again in your head. Of course someone as handsome as him would be looking for love, and of course it wouldn’t be with you. His appearance had completely changed when highschool started, his facial features more defined and his build becoming larger in general. And his nose, his nose. You would spend hours looking at it if you could, that was just how beautiful he was. And his eyes, they always seemed to light up the entire world everytime he smiled, it’s no wonder that he suddenly became so popular in highschool, girls and boys flocking to him like he was free real estate. Why, then, would he ever be interested in a nobody like you?

“y/n? y/n!” you snap out of your stupor to see Jungwon snapping his fingers in front of you, “What were you thinking about? It’s like you went to another dimension or something!”

You glance to your left and lock eyes with Leehan, who is looking at you with such a worried gaze in his eyes one would think something serious happened to you. The thought of Leehan going on a date with someone else creeps up your throat again, and you start to feel suffocated.

“I- I’m sorry, I have to go, I just remembered that I have a Calculus assignment due in thirty minutes! I’m really sorry guys, I’ll see you!” you make up a flimsy excuse hurriedly, standing up and bolting out of the cafeteria before you break down in front of everyone.

“Wait! y/n, is everything okay?” Leehan asks from behind you, but you’re too upset to bother, missing the way he watches you leave with a pained expression.

You don’t talk to Leehan for the rest of the day.

Well, you didn’t exactly have the opportunity to, considering that you had no shared classes with him that day.

Which is why you had quite the shock walking out of your Calculus class with Taesan only to see Leehan waiting for you by the door, your classmates walking by nonchalantly like it was a regular occurence (well, it was, but you just didn’t expect him to be waiting for you considering what happened earlier).

“I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n! Have fun,” Taesan greets, nodding at Leehan on his way out of school.

“Hi,” Leehan steps forward, shooting you his signature smile, and you forget how to breathe momentarily. “are you okay? You seemed a bit… out of it, earlier.”

The way his eyes soften as he speaks has your heart threatening to jump right out of your chest. You’ve been friends forever. Why does he have this effect on you?

“y/n! There it is again,” Leehan chuckles for a bit, before turning serious, “what’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“It’s- it’s nothing serious, Han. I’m just tired from school and all the exams coming up. Let’s just go home, hm?” You don’t give him the chance to call out your avoidance, walking ahead of him instead.

The walk home is silent, an unusual occurence considering that the usual routine was one filled with laughter and endless chatter all the way back home. You can tell that something’s on Leehan’s mind, but you decide not to probe further and wait for him to talk instead.

"So," Leehan starts as the both of you turn and walk down the street you both live in, "who were you guys talking about at lunch earlier? Do you like someone?"

"We were just talking about some friend of mine, Han, it wasn't anything important. What about you? How's the whole matchmaking thing going?" you change the topic, looking everywhere but in Leehan's direction.

Leehan hesitates. "I... actually wanted to talk to you about this. I'm supposed to go on a date with someone they picked out for me tomorrow, and I wanted to ask whether you'd be okay with it."

You stop in your tracks abruptly, and Leehan continues walking at first, then realises your absence and jogs back to you. You feel a sense of deja vu at the scene unfolding in front of you.

Your heart feels like it'd been shattered against the wall. You break out into a small smile to mask your disappointment. "Han, why do you have to ask me for permission? You're your own person. You can do whatever you want."

Leehan’s shakes his head, eyes softening. He looks like he’s withholding something. “I just thought I should ask you first, since… since we’re supposed to go home together. If I go on that date, I’ll be bailing on our routine.”

You try your hardest to let out a chuckle that doesn’t sound too fake, hoping Leehan doesn’t pick up on it. He doesn’t say anything, and you take it as a sign to continue. “Hannie, why am I standing in the way of you and a potential partner? Go.”

Don’t go, you so badly want to say, but restrain yourself. Why should he sacrifice his love life for someone like you? Compared to him, whose very existence brings so much joy to so many people’s lives, you’re… nothing.

Leehan looks at you with what you make out to be a longing look on his face, like he’s expecting you to say more.

“But y/n, we’ve never not gone home from school together, ever. Even on days where our schedule didn’t line up, we’d wait for each other. If I go on this date, it’d be the first time our routine is broken,” Leehan strangely sounds like he’s pleading with you.

“Are you trying to get me to say no? You can do whatever you want, Han, but I think this is a good opportunity.” you retort, your words laced with a hint of bitterness that you don’t bother masking.

“Who knows if this would be the beginning of the end of our routine if I go? y/n, is this not important to you? This is one of the only moments I get to spend time with you, one-on-one, and I cherish it. A lot. But it looks like it doesn’t go both ways,” Leehan’s brows furrow together as he gets agitated by the second.

You don’t know why you’re being so avoidant, and the next few words come out of your mouth before you can react to stop them, “You think I don’t cherish this? Why are you so worked up about this, anyway? It’s not like we’re dating or anything-”

“And that’s the problem!” Leehan interrupts, raising his voice a little in frustration. He’s never gotten frustrated with you before, and you look on the situation with worry.

“Every second that passes whenever I’m with you pains me more than you can believe because I know my feelings are unrequited. Do you know how hard it is to be standing here in front of you and not be able to reach out and hold you anytime I want, not be able to call you mine, and not be able to put a label on our relationship instead of this infuriating ‘best-friendship’? I was hoping you’d stop me from going on that date, y/n. But you didn’t. I guess that’s enough evidence for how stupid I am to have fallen so, so deeply in love with you.

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop. I’ve loved you ever since we were dumb six-year-olds playing house in your front yard, and I still love you now.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Leehan is looking at you with such an intense gaze in his eyes you feel small.

Say something! Your heart screams, but your brain refuses to listen.

Leehan scoffs at your silence and looks down at his feet. “Goodbye, y/n.”

At that, he turns around and walks towards his house, and you’re just now realising that you’d already reached your front porch.

You stay rooted to the ground as you watch his slumped figure enter his house, internally screaming for you to say something while nothing comes out of your mouth.

Leehan isn’t at his usual spot outside your Calculus class the next day, and you can’t hide your disappointment.

Earlier this morning, you were turned away by Leehan’s lovely mom as she told you apologetically that Leehan had already left for school by the time you knocked on his door, and he wasn’t with his group of friends at his usual spot at the cafeteria today. Even Hikaru and Jungwon noticed the change in your behaviour, opting to rub your back comfortingly and say nothing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Taesan offers, picking up on your sorry state. “There’s a new cafe that recently opened nearby, we could go there and talk.”

And that’s how you end up sitting across from Taesan in the newly-opened cafe a few blocks away from school, with cups of iced matcha lattes in front of you.

Taesan listens attentively as you recount what happened yesterday, though he seems unfazed, like he’d heard about the situation beforehand.

You pause. “Did he tell you this already?”

“Well, yeah. I just wanted to get your perspective on the whole situation,” Taesan explains, shrugging. “So, how do you feel about him?”

You sigh. You’d had time to think it over yesterday, but your feelings are still as confusing as ever.

“I don’t want to lose him.” you state. “He’s been there for me my entire life, and I have been there for him, too. I just, I can’t imagine having to live on without having him by my side. To be honest, I can’t even imagine sitting here on a date with some other person, because somehow, I always thought-”

Your eyes widen. Taesan smiles.

“God, I’m so stupid. It’s probably too late, right? I messed up so bad, Taesan.” you chastise yourself, burying your face in your hands.

“No, y/n. That guy would probably wait multiple lifetimes for you if he had to.” Taesan smiles reassuringly.

You look up at him, slightly unconvinced.

“As much as he was upset at you yesterday, did you really think he was going to leave you here alone? He asked me to accompany you today,” Taesan explains, “well, that is not to say that I wouldn’t have hung out with you if he didn’t ask, y/n, I think you’re pretty cool. I guess there just weren’t really many opportunities, since your time after school has always been reserved for each other.”

You’ve never run back home faster than you just did before.

After Taesan’s revelation, you got up abruptly, thanked him, and bolted out of the cafe and all the way to Leehan’s front porch. Bracing yourself, you knock on his door. You can only hope he’s home this time.

You hear some shuffling from inside the house, and the door opens soon after. You come face to face with Leehan, clad in a dark blue hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that just made him look so domestic.

“Hey,” you start, albeit a little awkwardly, “the date ended so fast?”

“I didn’t go on that date, y/n.” Leehan states in a matter-of-fact tone. Oh, you think, chastising yourself internally.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

The both of you apologise at the same time. After a beat of silence, you and Leehan break out into a fit of giggles, and for a moment, you think everything is fine again. Just like before this all happened.

“Leehan, I wanted to apologise for my behaviour yesterday. Our daily routines mean everything to me, and not having you walking beside me today showed me that.”

Leehan opens his mouth to say something, and you speak first before he does.

“I’m in love with you, Leehan, I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’m so in love with you, I can’t bear to imagine what it would be like if you’re not going to be by my side anymore-”

“It’s Han,” Leehan interrupts, not saying anything else.

“Huh?”

“You’ve always called me Han,” Leehan’s eyes soften as he looks at you so fondly you think your heart is going to explode, “I’m sorry I said being in love with you was stupid, because it isn’t. I’m in love with you too, y/n. What took you so long?”

Leehan slowly leans closer until your noses touch, and his eyes wander from your lips to your eyes. You give him a small nod.

You don’t know who initiates it, but soon his lips are on yours, and you feel like your whole body is being lit on fire. Leehan’s lips felt like home, and you’re left wondering what really took you so long as you smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You pull away for breath and Leehan’s lips chases after yours, eliciting giggles from you. You lean forward to give him a peck on the lips.

“Hi,” you beam at Leehan. “I’m in love with you.”

“Hi,” Leehan looks so in love you think you might die. “I’m in love with you, too.”

“Are you staring at loverboy again? Come on, y/n, do something already!” Hikaru sighs in exasperation, looking on the whole situation with frustration.

Jungwon perks up. “Hey, he’s coming over.”

“Hey, guys, what are you talking about?” Leehan comes to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Nothing much, just about how Woonhak led the basketball team to win the season last week. He’s really cool, I’d love to talk to him someday,” you make up an excuse, preferring to die than to admit that you had been staring at him.

“Woonhak?” Leehan scoffs, “I can beat him in a one-on-one anyday, y/n, I’ll show you.”

You look over at Hikaru to see her face scrunched up in very, very obvious frustration, and you almost feel sorry for her.

“Hey, Leehan! We gotta roll,” you hear Taesan from behind you, and you turn around to give him a smile in greeting.

“Well, I gotta go. I’ll see you later, baby,” Leehan ruffles your hair, standing up and turning around to leave before stopping and turning back.

“I’m leaving my partner in your care, guys! See you around,” Leehan smiles before turning to leave for real.

“y/n…” Hikaru looks at you with the most hardened glare you’ve ever seen, and you sigh. You’re dead.

a/n: andddddddd knocking on heaven’s (your) door is finally here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope you guys enjoyed this fic, i tried my best hehe

taglist: @luvistqrzzz

masterlist

[hancorys]

k.lh — fruit punch and stomach bugs

genre: its leehan, ofc its FLUFF, friends to lovers trope, loud leehan !! attempt on golden retriever x black cat trope pairing: friend!leehan x afab!reader wc: 3950 warning: chaotic, lame jokes, hmm lmk if i forgot anything !! listen: apple cider — beabadoobee, perfect pair — beabadoobee

you never really noticed leehan before.

sure, you knew he was part of your friend group. you knew he was the loud one, the one who somehow had endless energy no matter how late you all stayed out. you knew he had a laugh that made everyone else laugh with him, even if they had no idea what was funny. but beyond that? nothing. you never had a reason to talk to him, and you never thought about changing that.

it wasn’t like you were avoiding him—there was just never a need. every gathering, every hangout, every chaotic group chat interaction, leehan was just there. always talking to someone else, always laughing at something stupid, always moving from one conversation to another like he physically couldn’t sit still.

and you? you preferred to stay on the sidelines. observing, commenting only when necessary, giving rei and eunchae unimpressed looks whenever leehan did something particularly dumb, which was often.

like the time he tried to balance three cups of bubble tea in one hand while dramatically reenacting some anime fight scene with woonhak. predictably, all three drinks ended up on the floor.

“dude,” jaehyun had sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “this is why we can’t take you anywhere.”

“no regrets,” leehan had declared, completely unbothered as he wiped milk tea off his sleeve. “the scene was worth it.”

or the time he climbed onto a shopping cart in the middle of a parking lot, insisting that sungho push him at full speed.

“this is a terrible idea,” you had muttered to rei.

“he’s going to break something,” rei had agreed.

both of you had been correct. he crashed into a curb ten seconds later, and you had simply stepped over his sprawled-out form on the pavement, unimpressed.

“so dramatic,” you had muttered as you passed.

“so heartless,” he had groaned in response.

but despite all of that, you had never actually spoken to him. not directly. not one-on-one. you existed in the same space, floated around the same conversations, but your worlds never really collided.

and you thought that was how it would always be.

until tonight.

it started with a simple realization—both of you were leaving jaehyun’s house at the same time. you wouldn’t have thought much of it, except that when you turned the corner, leehan was still there. walking in the same direction. with you.

but before that, the night had been nothing short of chaos.

jaehyun’s parties were always like this—loud, messy, and somehow both the best and worst decision at the same time. the living room was packed, music loud enough to shake the floors, and the friend group was scattered across the house, each involved in their own brand of mayhem.

wonyoung and eunchae were doing dramatic reenactments of k-drama confession scenes on the couch, taking turns being the heartbroken lead. rei was recording them, hyping up their performances while sungho kept yelling, “oscar-worthy! pure art!”

meanwhile, taesan and woonhak had somehow started an impromptu dance battle, with jaehyun acting as the referee. leehan, true to his nature, was right in the middle of it all—hyping them up, throwing in ridiculous dance moves of his own, and laughing so hard he nearly fell over.

“i don’t know whether to be amazed or horrified,” you muttered, watching as leehan attempted to moonwalk but somehow ended up looking like a malfunctioning robot.

rei, standing next to you, snorted. “knowing him? both.”

at some point, someone suggested a game of truth or dare, which quickly devolved into chaos. woonhak ended up wearing a ridiculous hat made out of plastic cups, jaehyun was dared to text his professor something absolutely unhinged (thankfully unsent at the last second), and leehan?

leehan, of course, had to take things up a notch.

“i dare you to confess to the person you find most attractive here,” woonhak smirked, clearly expecting chaos.

leehan didn’t even hesitate.

he turned, dramatically sweeping his hair back, and locked eyes with you.

“you,” he declared, pointing directly at you.

silence.

then, laughter exploded around the room as everyone hooted and cheered, assuming it was a joke. you, however, just blinked at him, unimpressed.

“you’re not funny.”

“no, but i am committed to the bit,” he shot back, grinning. “also, you should feel honored.”

“oh, so honored,” you deadpanned.

somehow, between all the chaos and ridiculousness, time flew by, and soon enough, people started heading out. and that’s when you found yourself in this situation—leaving at the exact same time as leehan. you wouldn’t have thought much of it, except that when you turned the corner, leehan was still there. walking in the same direction. with you.

and then he kept walking. and walking. through the same streets. past the same convenience stores. down the same subway stairs.

you eyed him suspiciously as you both tapped your train cards in sync. leehan, however, just looked amused.

“are you following me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“i could say the same thing to you.”

he let out a laugh, light and easy. “guess we just have the same route home.”

you hummed, unconvinced. but then, as the train arrived and you both stepped into the same car—then sat in the same row—your skepticism turned into sheer disbelief.

“you have got to be kidding me.”

leehan grinned, resting his chin in his hand. “this is kinda funny, though.”

“no, it’s weird,” you deadpanned.

“or maybe it’s fate.”

“don’t push it.”

but then it got weirder. because when you both got off at the same stop and started walking again—this time in perfect sync—it became undeniable. when you reached your apartment building, you could only stare as leehan casually pulled out his key.

“wait. you live here?”

leehan laughed, unlocking the front door. “you sound so horrified. yeah, i live here.”

“since when?”

“for, like, a year?”

you groaned, running a hand through your hair. “this is insane. i have never—not once—seen you here.”

leehan just shrugged. “guess we were never meant to meet. until now.”

“that’s actually creepy.”

he shot you a playful glare. “you’re ruining the moment.”

and just like that, it started. what was supposed to be a one-time coincidence turned into an unspoken routine. you and leehan started walking home together. started taking the train together. started stopping by the convenience store for late-night snacks, where he’d insist on paying even when you threatened to strangle him with a pack of ramen.

“leehan, put the card down.”

“why? i like treating my friends.”

“okay, but i don’t like being treated.”

“that sounds like a you problem,” he said, successfully tapping his card before you could stop him.

you huffed, grabbing your drink from the counter and stomping out of the store. leehan followed, barely suppressing a laugh.

“you’re so dramatic.”

“and you’re an idiot.”

“an idiot who just paid for your snacks.”

somehow, someway, you became friends.

which, apparently, was the most shocking thing to everyone else.

“you and leehan?” wonyoung had stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “you guys are friends now?”

rei had been even more dramatic, clutching her chest like she was about to faint. “the walking golden retriever and the resident black cat? unbelievable.”

“it’s not that weird,” you muttered, stabbing at your lunch with your chopsticks.

“no, it is,” taesan confirmed, shoving a chip into his mouth. “leehan gets along with everyone, but you? you don’t just ‘get along’ with people. you tolerate them.”

“thanks for that.”

“anytime.”

sungho narrowed his eyes. “wait, so you guys really hang out? like, outside of group stuff?”

rei gasped. “wait, wait, wait. have you ever laughed at his jokes?”

you rolled your eyes. “i’m not heartless.”

“so that’s a yes,” woonhak smirked. “wow. history is being made.”

leehan, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered. “you guys act like i tamed a wild animal or something.”

jaehyun nodded. “because you kind of did.”

“seriously, though,” eunchae piped up, eyes gleaming with interest. “do you guys ever, like, talk? or is it just comfortable silence?”

“both,” leehan answered easily, nudging your side. “sometimes she lets me ramble about random stuff. sometimes we just exist in peace.”

rei leaned forward. “and you actually enjoy that?”

leehan just grinned. “it’s okay. i like black cats.”

“it’s okay. i like black cats.”

.

.

.

“it’s okay. i like black cats.”....

.

.

.

“it’s okay. i like black cats.”

this shouldn't bother you, right? at least, that's what you’ve been telling yourself for the past 10 minutes… no, 20 minutes, as you stared at yourself in the mirror. face flushed, red as a tomato.

it was stupid. it was just leehan being leehan—annoyingly charming without even trying. he probably forgot he even said it. meanwhile, you were standing here, gripping the edges of the sink like it had personally wronged you.

“this is stupid. get yourself together,” you muttered, lightly smacking your own cheeks before splashing cold water on your cheeks, as if that would help. 

except it didn’t. because the moment you stepped out of your room, your phone buzzed with a message from leehan.

[leehan]: convenience store run?

you stared at the text for a solid five seconds. you could ignore him. pretend you were already in bed. but your feet were already moving before you could think twice.

[you]: fine. be outside in 5.

when you got downstairs, leehan was already there, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, a familiar grin on his face. “you’re five minutes early.”

“i like to be efficient,” you mumbled, walking past him toward the store.

he fell into step beside you, chuckling. “so efficient that you took twenty minutes to text me back?”

“i was busy.”

“busy staring at yourself in the mirror?”

you stopped in your tracks, whipping around. “excuse me?”

leehan blinked innocently. “what? i just figured, you know, considering how red you were earlier—”

“shut up.” you picked up your pace, pretending your face wasn’t burning again.

leehan laughed, easily catching up. “you’re fun to tease.”

“i hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

unfortunately, he was right.

at the store, you went straight for the snack aisle, grabbing a bag of chips and your usual drink. leehan, as always, hovered behind you, dramatically inspecting his options.

“hmm,” he mused, holding up two different ice cream flavors. “do i want strawberry or mint choco?”

“strawberry.”

he gasped. “wow, no hesitation.”

“because mint choco is disgusting.”

he clutched the mint choco to his chest, looking genuinely wounded. “you wound me.”

“good.”

leehan pouted before tossing both ice creams into the basket. “guess i’ll have to get both, then.”

“or you could just make a better life choice.”

“this is a personal attack.”

the next day, the unspoken routine continued as if nothing had changed. but you swore leehan was watching you a little too closely when you met at the station.

“you look extra grumpy today,” he commented, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. as usual.

“thanks,” you deadpanned.

he grinned but didn’t push further. instead, he just walked beside you, the easy rhythm of your steps falling into sync like always.

as usual, you stopped by the convenience store. but this time, something felt different. you blamed it on last night’s stupid moment, on the way your brain kept replaying his words like a broken record. because suddenly, standing next to leehan under the fluorescent lights, everything felt… hyper-aware.

“what do you want?” he asked, already reaching for his wallet.

“i can pay for myself,” you said, shooting him a glare.

“yeah, yeah.” he waved you off and grabbed a basket, throwing in his usual snacks. then, without thinking, he plucked a carton of banana milk from the shelf and tossed it in too.

you blinked. “why are you getting that?”

he looked at you like you were asking something obvious. “because you always get banana milk.”

you opened your mouth, but nothing came out. because—oh. he noticed?

“stop looking at me like that,” he teased, nudging you with his elbow. “it’s just banana milk.”

except it wasn’t. not really. it was something small, something dumb, but it still sent your heart into a quiet little panic.

this was bad.

this was really, really bad.

because of the fact that you kind of liked it.

which was a problem.

—

jaehyun’s house was packed again, music thrumming through the walls, the air thick with the scent of food, alcohol, and too many people crammed into one space. you weren’t even sure what the occasion was this time. knowing jaehyun, he probably just felt like throwing a party for no reason.

you had just arrived, barely setting foot in the living room, when wonyoung and rei ambushed you.

“oh my god, look who finally decided to show up!” wonyoung beamed, linking her arm with yours. “and here i thought you’d become too busy with your new best friend to hang out with us.”

rei snickered. “right? they’re practically attached at the hip now.”

you rolled your eyes, shaking them off. “not this again.”

“you’re not denying it, though,” taesan said, popping up from behind you with a knowing grin.

before you could snap at him, your eyes caught sight of leehan on the other side of the room, laughing at something jaehyun had said.

your stomach did something weird. you ignored it.

jaehyun noticed you staring and smirked. “hey, look who’s here.”

leehan turned his head, his eyes immediately finding yours.

and then—he winked.

you nearly choked on air.

rei and wonyoung let out a synchronized ooooh.

“okay, you guys are insufferable,” you muttered, heading straight for the kitchen, desperate for something—anything—to distract yourself.

but leehan was fast. before you could grab a drink, he was suddenly beside you, leaning against the counter like he hadn’t just almost made you collapse five seconds ago.

“you’re late,” he said.

“and you’re annoying,” you replied, popping open a soda.

leehan just grinned, stealing the drink right from your hand and taking a sip.

“hey—”

“mmm, refreshing,” he sighed dramatically, handing it back to you with an infuriatingly smug look.

you narrowed your eyes. “i should poison you.”

“aww, you’d miss me.”

“debatable.”

you took a sip from the same can, too caught up in glaring at him to realize what you’d done. but the second you did—when you felt the ghost of his lips on the rim—you nearly dropped it.

leehan saw your reaction, and that stupid grin of his widened.

“oh?” he teased. “flustered?”

“shut up.”

“you totally are.”

you needed to get out of here. fast.

but as the night went on, escaping leehan became impossible. somehow, he was everywhere—pulling you into games, making sure you were on his team during random challenges, always finding some way to be in your space.

it didn’t help that the others were having the time of their lives watching it unfold.

“oh, come on, just admit it,” jaehyun said at one point, slinging an arm around leehan’s shoulder. “you two have something going on.”

“yeah, it’s called friendship,” you deadpanned.

“nah,” taesan interjected. “i’ve never seen leehan act this way with anyone else.”

rei nodded enthusiastically. “he literally follows you around like a puppy.”

wonyoung gasped. “oh my god, he’s a golden retriever boyfriend in the making.”

leehan, unbothered, just nudged you playfully. “see? i told you i like black cats.”

you ignored the way your face burned.

—

later that night, after hours of pretending everything was fine, you finally managed to slip away from the chaos. you grabbed your jacket, heading for the door.

and then, right on cue, leehan appeared beside you.

“leaving already?”

“yeah,” you muttered.

“i’ll walk with you.”

you frowned. “aren’t you staying over at jaehyun’s?”

he shrugged. “changed my mind.”

you eyed him suspiciously but didn’t argue. and so, just like last time, you left together.

and this time, as you stepped out into the quiet night, something had shifted.

the walk back to your building was different this time. quieter. more charged.

a few months ago, leehan had been just another name in the friend group, a background character in your life who never had any real reason to cross paths with you. but now? now he was walking beside you like he had always belonged there, his presence as familiar as the crisp night air wrapping around your skin.

and maybe he did belong there.

you weren’t sure when it had happened—when he’d started showing up in your thoughts even when he wasn’t around, when the stupid things he said began lingering in your head longer than they should. you weren’t even sure when the sound of his laugh had become something you liked hearing, or when the way he looked at you started making your chest feel too tight.

but it had happened. somewhere between the teasing, the ridiculous dares, the way he always seemed to be near you even when he didn’t have to be—it had happened.

and now you were here, walking home together, fingers grazing every few steps.

you pretended not to notice. he pretended not to, either.

but you both did.

the city hummed around you, neon signs flickering in the distance, the occasional car passing by. it was late enough that the usual bustle of the streets had quieted down, leaving just the two of you and the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the pavement.

you reached your building, stepping toward the entrance, but then—

leehan stopped walking.

you turned to him, brow raised. “what?”

he looked... different. not in the usual smug, teasing way. he was shifting his weight slightly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, his gaze flickering between you and the ground like he was debating something.

and then—

“…do you want to come over?”

you blinked.

“…huh?”

his ears were turning red. red.

he cleared his throat. “w-we can, uh… eat? and have a movie marathon?” his words came out rushed, like he was afraid he’d forget them if he didn’t say them fast enough. “o-or, uh… i don’t know, whatever you’d love to do. online games?”

your lips parted slightly, caught off guard. leehan—confident, annoying, always-has-a-snarky-response leehan—was nervous.

nervous about you.

his fingers curled inside his sleeves, his usual teasing grin nowhere to be found.

and that was when it hit you. the way he always found you in a room. the way his insults had softened into something closer to fondness. the way he never actually seemed to mind when you called him annoying.

he had been holding back.

and maybe, just maybe—you had been, too.

you took a step closer, tilting your head. “leehan.”

his throat bobbed. “yeah?”

your lips twitched into a smirk. “silly, of course i’d love to come over.”

before he could fully process your words, you grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the entrance of the building.

“and while we’re at it, we’ll talk about how we don’t like each other that much.”

leehan let out a strangled noise. “huh—wait—”

you ignored him, swiftly entering his passcode like it was your apartment, pushing open the door. “hurry up, we’re wasting time.”

he stood frozen for a second, blinking at you, before breaking into a wide grin, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re unbelievable.”

“unfortunately.”

you plopped onto his couch like you lived there, grabbing the remote, already scrolling through movie options. leehan sat beside you, close—closer than usual.

and this time, neither of you pretended to ignore it.

the movie played in the background, its soft glow casting flickering shadows across the dimly lit room. but neither of you were watching. not really.

leehan sat beside you, slightly tense, like he was aware—of the space between you, of the way your knees brushed when you shifted, of the fact that this wasn’t just another night hanging out. this was something else.

you, on the other hand, acted as if everything was normal. because if you thought too much, if you acknowledged the weight in the air, you weren’t sure what you’d do.

but leehan was staring. you could feel it.

“if you keep looking at me like that, i might start thinking you actually like me,” you muttered, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between you.

leehan didn’t even flinch. “what if i do?”

you paused mid-chew.

slowly, you turned to him, raising a brow. “what?”

his expression was unreadable, but his fingers tapped absently against his knee, a nervous habit you’d only recently started noticing.

he inhaled, exhaled, then shrugged. “just saying. maybe i do.”

you stared at him, waiting for the punchline. some stupid joke, a teasing smirk—something to make it feel less like he was turning your entire world upside down.

but nothing came.

he just looked at you, quiet and steady, like he’d already made peace with whatever was about to happen next.

and suddenly, all those months of playful arguments, of lingering glances, of almost-but-not-quite moments came rushing back at once.

you hated him. except, you didn’t.

“you’re messing with me,” you said finally, but your voice lacked the usual bite.

leehan shook his head. “nope.”

“…seriously?”

“seriously.”

your heart was doing something weird. like a stuttering engine, skipping beats it wasn’t supposed to.

you scoffed, trying to mask it. “wow. what a plot twist.”

“right?” leehan hummed, leaning back into the couch. “who would’ve thought? me, liking you.”

“so tragic.”

“a real disaster.”

but despite the words, despite the banter, neither of you laughed.

you could still feel his gaze, waiting... waiting for you to say something.

but what were you supposed to say?

that your heart had been beating like this for weeks now? that you had started looking for him in every room before you even realized it? that you kind of liked being the first person he teased, the first person he looked at when something funny happened, the first person he always, always sat next to?

ugh.

this was so unfair.

so, instead of answering, instead of dealing with the mess he’d just dumped into your lap, you grabbed a handful of popcorn and threw it at him.

leehan blinked. “…seriously?”

“seriously.”

a beat of silence.

then, he smirked. “oh, you’re so dead.”

before you could react, he grabbed a pillow and launched it at you, knocking you back against the couch.

“leehan!” you shrieked, throwing another handful of popcorn in retaliation.

what followed was a full-blown war; popcorn flying, pillows swinging, laughter filling the small space between you. the movie played on, forgotten, as you both devolved into something ridiculous and childish and stupidly happy.

somewhere between dodging an incoming pillow and trying to wrestle the remote from leehan’s grasp, you tumbled forward, colliding into him—too close, too warm, too real.

your breath caught.

so did his.

neither of you moved.

his hand was still wrapped around your wrist. your knees were pressed against his. your face was this close to his, close enough to see the way his lips parted, just slightly.

the teasing, the laughter, the noise...it all faded.

for a second, the world stilled.

“…you’re not gonna hit me again, are you?” leehan murmured, voice quieter than before.

“depends,” you said, but it came out softer than you meant it to.

his gaze flickered down, just for a split second.

then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. “you like me.”

you scoffed, pulling back. “delusional.”

“you so do.”

“good night, leehan.”

“admit it.”

you grabbed a pillow and threw it at him again before standing up. “sleep well, best friend.”

“oh my god.”

“bye.”

leehan’s laughter followed you as you walked toward the door, his voice light, teasing but different now. like he knew something you weren’t ready to admit yet.

and maybe he did.

either way, it didn’t matter.

because as you stepped out, your heart still racing, you realized—this wasn’t the end of something.

it was the beginning.

© hancorys, 2025.

[nicholasluvbot]

ㅤㅤMAIN THINGㅤ𖥔ㅤKDH

𝗈𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 ── 𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

situationship ! 김동현 ⟡ 𝑓 ! readerㅤㅤ◜ᴗ◝ㅤㅤ800ㅤ 𓂃 ㅤfluff situationshipㅤㅤ─── warnings kissing skinshipㅤㅤDiRECTORY

Leehan is stretched out on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other absentmindedly toying with the hem of your sleeve. You’re sitting beside him, legs tucked under you, barely paying attention to whatever stupid video is playing on your phone—not when you can feel his gaze on you.

“You’re staring,” you say without looking at him.

He hums, not even bothering to deny it. “You make it so easy.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He tilts his head slightly, wearing that stupidly adorable look—the one that makes you want to kiss him senseless. “Dunno,” he says, “you tell me.”

You hate it when he does this—when he makes you feel like this thing you have going on is more than just fun. Like you’re not just two people who fall into each other’s arms when it’s convenient.

You click your tongue. “Stop saying things like that.”

He shuffles closer, propping himself up on one elbow. “Why?”

“Because.” It’s a weak answer, and you both know it.

Leehan exhales softly, watching you for a beat too long. Then, without another word, he reaches for your hand, fingers curling around your wrist. “C’mere,” he murmurs.

You shouldn’t listen. Shouldn’t give in. But his touch is warm, his voice is soft, and you’ve never been good at resisting him.

So you go, allowing him to pull you in until you’re hovering over him, one hand braced against his chest.

You take the moment to admire him up close—the soft curve of his cheeks, the plumpness of his lips, the quiet, fond look in his eyes.

“Better?” you ask, feigning indifference, but the slight tremble in your voice betrays you.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches up, the pad of his thumb brushing against your jaw—an unbearably gentle touch that makes your breath hitch.

And then, just as you’re about to tell him to quit messing around, he kisses you.

He starts slow, lips moving over yours like he’s trying to memorize the feeling, like he has all the time in the world. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you close, and you let yourself melt into the kiss, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

Leehan tastes like the cherry candy he stole from your bag earlier, and something undeniably him—something you could get addicted to if you’re not careful.

His hands are warm on your waist, fingers pressing just firmly enough to make you dizzy. You pull at his hoodie, trying to get him closer, and he laughs—breathy, amused—before catching your chin between his fingers, tilting your head.

“Slow down a little, hm?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over yours.

And just as he says that, he kisses you again. Soft and deep, and it feels real. So, so real.

But then, he pulls away just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his hands still firmly on your waist, like he’s grounding himself.

“What are we doing?” he asks, quieter now.

Your stomach tightens. You knew this was coming.

“Huh?” you say, pretending you don’t know what he means.

His thumb brushes idly over your hip. “Us, YN. What is this that we’re doing?”

“There is no us.” The words leave your mouth automatically, because that’s the rule, isn’t it? No labels, no strings.

Leehan doesn’t argue. Just looks at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something else, to take it back.

But you don’t. Instead, you tug him closer and kiss him—like you can make him forget.

He doesn’t let you.

Gently, he pulls away, his palm cupping your cheek, thumb stroking softly. “I don’t like it when you do that,” he murmurs.

“Do what?”

“Act like this isn’t real.”

Your breath catches. What does he even mean?

He sighs, eyes flickering away for a moment before settling back on yours. “I don’t want to be just nothing to you.”

Your heart stumbles over itself. “You’re not—”

“Then tell me.” His voice is gentle, but his gaze is steady. “Tell me what you want us to be.”

And damn it, you should make him say it first, make him work for it, but he’s looking at you with so much sincerity, so much pleading, that you realize you don’t care about the game anymore.

So you just whisper, voice shaky, “I want you to be mine.”

The corner of his lips lifts. He exhales, relieved.

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning forward, brushing his nose against your cheek. “Because I’ve been yours this whole time.”

‎ ‎     • 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 🗯 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 ───── 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 ˆᗜˆ

tags ( boynextdoor ) @coquettejunnie , @hanninova , @chaeneu , @aloe-7 , @en-dream , @rizzkisworld , @cosmicwintr , @mydearyeseo , @ladyaida , @fae-renjun , @slytherinshua , @jjennuine , @amouriu , @i03jae , @kstrucknet , @k-films , @sgz-net

[2i1han]

— request time

𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎

pairing : tourguide!leehan x fem!reader ⭑ wc 5.9k

genre : oneshot fluff , romance

synopsis: you've liked leehan since seventh grade, but over time, you drifted apart. now, you reunite while working at the same aquarium. and, as you spend more time together, you realize your connection never truly faded.

(thank you to the anon who requested this! it was really fun and cute to write, though the word count ended up longer than i expected. also, this is the peak fish leehan ff i've ever written. it's also giving a slowly then all at once alternate universe, except leehan isn't a brooding loser here LMAO.)

ever since seventh grade, you've never quite gotten over your first crush—the quiet biology nerd who always sat alone by the pond, watching the fish swim as if it were his own personal netflix. his chocolate eyes would follow their every movement, his fingers occasionally adjusting the hem of his uniform reflexively, completely immersed in a world of shiney scales and rippling water. you used to steal glances from afar, wondering what thoughts swam through his head as he watched them. even now, years later, as a college student, that same fluttery feeling overtakes you whenever you think of kim leehan.

growing up in a small town meant living in a loop—same streets, same people, same predictable routines. it wasn't separation from him that you feared—it was how close you always were. ever since that first conversation in middle school, when leehan had filled the silence with enthusiastic talk about fish anatomy and marine ecosystems, you'd been left staring, struggling to keep up. his voice had been calm but full of life, his hands gesturing in small movements as he explained something about gill respiration. meanwhile, all you could do was nod along, mouth slightly open, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

after that, you never dared to strike up another deep conversation with him. not because you didn't like his nerdy ramblings, if anything, you found them endearing, but because you were afraid. afraid you wouldn't be able to keep up, that your lack of knowledge would make him lose interest in talking to you.

so, instead of giving up, you did something ridiculous. you spent years secretly studying marine biology, at first just to understand him better, but somewhere along the way, it stopped being about leehan and started becoming something you genuinely loved. the books stacked on your bedside table, the late nights spent watching documentaries about ocean ecosystems, the hours scrolling through marine biology forums—it all became second nature.

but none of that mattered now because you had bigger problems.

"we'll just call you if we decide to hire you," the restaurant owner said, offering you a polite but clearly dismissive smile.

you forced a tight-lipped smile in return, bowing slightly before stepping out of the small diner. the second the door swung shut behind you, you let out a groan, rubbing your temples in frustration.

this was your fifth stop today. the heat of the afternoon sun pressed down on you, sweat sticking to the nape of your neck as you trudged down the sidewalk, your steps were heavy. your stomach rumbled from hunger, but you ignored it, too exhausted to even think about food.

as you walked, slouching under the weight of your disappointment, a voice called out.

"still nothing?"

liz, your ever-reliable best friend, caught up to you effortlessly, her sneakers scuffing against the pavement as she matched your pace. she held a cold drink in her hands, condensation dripping onto her fingers.

"yeah, this sucks so bad," you muttered, rolling your eyes, blowing a strand of hair out of your face.

then, casually, as if she wasn't about to change the course of your entire life, liz dropped the biggest, most life-altering suggestion of your existence.

"maybe you can apply for a job at the aquarium where leehan works."

you stopped in your tracks so abruptly that liz took two more steps before realizing.

your gasped, eyes widening as if she'd just handed you a winning lottery ticket. "wait, what?"

liz turned to face you, unfazed. "leehan. he's been working at the new aquarium since last month, you didn't know?"

no, you didn't. how could you not have known? your heart pounded against your ribs, giddy surging through you like a wave. this was perfect. like a missing puzzle piece snapping into place. you had spent years pouring yourself into marine biology, and now, not only did you have a chance at working with what you loved—you had a chance at being close to leehan again.

"i- i haven't heard from him in so long," you admitted, gripping liz's arm, as if to steady yourself in reality.

"well, now you do," she said with a grin. "and now you have a shot."

a slow smile spread across your face. "thank you, liz. i'm going first thing tomorrow!"

and, true to your word, you did exactly that.

at the first hint of sunrise, you bolted out of bed, running errands for your grandmother at record speed, wiping down countertops before she could even ask, running to the market, sweeping the floor with urgency that dust swirled in the air like a mini storm. you weren't about to let anything get in your way today.

then came the most important part—choosing the perfect outfit. you had spent an embarrassing amount of time standing in front of the mirror, eventually settling on your all-time-favorite blue denim jumper, paired with a white off-shoulder long-sleeve top. your well-worn bambi sneakers completed the look, the same ones you had owned since you were fifteen. not that it mattered much. you never grew taller anyway, still barely reaching leehan's shoulder.

by the time you arrived at the aquarium, the town was lit up in soft morning light. the air smelled crisp, tinged with the faint scent of saltwater from the nearby shore.

you took a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag and tightening your ponytail before pushing your square glasses up the bridge of your nose.

the building's glass entrance reflected your slightly disheveled reflection, the nervous excitement evident in your posture.

you followed the receptionist down a hallway lined with vibrant posters of marine life, framed images of colorful reefs, deep-sea creatures, and conservation efforts decorated the walls, making you feel both excited and slightly nervous.

the hiring manager, a middle-aged man with kind eyes and graying hair, sat behind a sturdy desk in a modest office. behind him, a large observation window revealed a floor-to-ceiling tank.

"so," he began, flipping through your résumé, "you're interested in the tour guide position?"

"yes," you replied, straightening in your seat. "i've been studying marine biology for years as a personal passion. i love sharing information about marine life, and i think guiding people through the aquarium would be a perfect way to combine that."

he nodded thoughtfully. "we need people who are both knowledgeable and engaging. guests, especially kids—should feel excited when they learn about the ocean. are you comfortable speaking in front of groups?"

you hesitated for half a second before nodding. "i think so! i get a little nervous, but when it’s about something i love, i can talk for hours."

that made the manager chuckle. he leaned back in his chair, giving you an assessing look before finally nodding. "alright. we'll start you on a trial period. you'll shadow one of our senior guides this week, and if all goes well, we'll make it official."

it took a moment for his words to sink in. your hands tightened around the strap of your bag as excitement flooded your chest.

"really?" you asked, eyes wide.

"really," he confirmed with an easy smile. "welcome aboard."

you thanked him repeatedly, barely containing your enthusiasm as you shook his hand. after running through a few more details, he dismissed you, and you stepped back into the main aquarium hall.

you wandered through the exhibits, the aquarium was even more breathtaking than you had realized—massive glass tanks stretched across the walls, casting a dreamy blue glow. families huddled around displays, children pointing excitedly at the creatures swimming inside. a pair of stingrays drifted lazily near the glass.

you paused near a large touch tank, watching a group of kids giggle as they carefully dipped their fingers into the water to touch a passing starfish.

and then— "you look a little lost."

the voice was familiar, enough to send a sudden jolt through your chest.

you turned quickly, and there was leehan who stood a few steps away, his dark blue staff polo neatly tucked in, his id badge clipped to his collar. a clipboard rested in his hands, though his attention was fully on you. his brown hair was slightly tousled, probably from running his fingers through it too many times—a habit he never seemed to grow out of.

"leehan," you blurted, staring at him as if he were a mirage.

he blinked, then let out a small chuckle. "didn't expect to see you here."

you shook your head with a breathy laugh. "yeah, i—uh, i just got hired."

leehan's eyebrows lifted slightly. "here?"

"yep," you said, still a little dazed. "as a tour guide."

he tilted his head, processing that. "you? giving aquarium tours?"

you pursed your lips. "wow, okay, thanks for the vote of confidence."

leehan grinned, amused. "no, i mean, i just didn't know you were into marine life."

you hesitated before rubbing the back of your neck. "i wasn't… at first. but then i got really into it over the years."

"huh." he studied you for a beat, then chuckled softly. "i always thought i talked too much about fish back in school. didn't think anyone actually listened."

your cheeks warmed. "well… i guess someone did."

leehan smiled, a genuine one this time, his posture relaxing. "then i guess you'll be stuck seeing a lot of me. we're probably gonna work together pretty often."

your heart fluttered. "yeah," you said, grinning. "i guess so."

leehan tilted his head toward the tanks. "want me to show you around? might as well start getting familiar with the place."

you nodded, unable to hide your excitement. "i'd love that."

the rest of the day passed in a motion of laughter, glimmering water, and the sound of leehan's voice weaving through the air. he led you through every corner of the place, pointing at different species of fish with consistent enthusiasm. even though you had spent years studying marine life, he still managed to surprise you with little details and fun facts that you had never come across before.

"see that one?" leehan gestured toward a tank where a tiny, almost translucent fish wiggled between coral. "that's a glass catfish. their bodies are so clear you can see their organs."

you leaned closer, watching in awe. "that's insane… how have i never read about this before?"

leehan chuckled, the corner of his lips quirking up. "guess i still have a few tricks up my sleeve."

and honestly, that just made you admire him more. he was smart, kind, and effortlessly passionate about what he loved—something that had never changed since middle school.

at some point, while strolling past the jellyfish exhibit, leehan casually mentioned, "oh, by the way, i'll be your co-worker since... we're the only tour guides around."

your steps faltered. "wait—seriously?"

he turned to you with an amused expression. "yeah, didn't i say that?"

no, he absolutely did not. but if your heart could physically do somersaults, it would have done a whole routine.

you barely managed to keep your excitement in check, nodding in what you hoped was a casual manner. "that's… cool. we'll be working together a lot, then."

leehan hummed in agreement, hands tucked into his pockets. "guess so."

the thought of seeing him almost every day, working side by side, was enough to make your entire week.

after the long tour, when your feet were starting to ache and the aquarium lights dimmed slightly for the evening, leehan suddenly suggested, "hey, want a snack? there's a hotdog stall outside."

you didn't even hesitate. "absolutely."

so there you were, sitting side by side on a wooden bench facing the seaside, the distant sound of waves filled the street. the scent of grilled food mixed with the salty ocean breeze as the sky painted itself in hues of orange and pink.

leehan took a bite of his corndog before glancing at you with a small smile. "it's actually nice to see you again, y/n."

you turned to him, heart fluttering slightly.

"you're the only one who approached me in seventh grade," he continued, voice softer now, almost thoughtful. "you actually listened to my weird fish agendas. never called me an oddball for it."

your fingers tightened slightly around the napkin in your hand as warmth bloomed in your chest. god, if your heart could physically leap out of your chest, it would have already.

you ducked your head slightly, cheeks heating up. "me too," you admitted with a wide smile. "and, well… i think fishes are nice."

leehan let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head in amusement.

"yeah," he said, nudging your shoulder lightly. "they really are."

after that day, you had to part ways with leehan earlier than you wanted, as he had to return to his post. if this had been any other situation, you would have sulked in your room, reminiscing about every interaction, but tomorrow held the assurance of the start of your job. luckily, it arrived sooner than expected.

the first days of your internship went smoother and far beyond your expectations, if you're going to be honest. the first few minutes of your shifts were always easy—walking around the exhibits, chatting casually with leehan before the guests started approaching. at first, you felt a little awkward, your words occasionally stumbling as you tried to recall all the information you'd studied.

"that's an anemone," you told a curious child, crouching beside the tank. "it may look like a plant, but it's actually a marine animal!"

the kid gasped, eyes widening as he pressed his face closer to the glass. "like in finding nemo?"

"exactly!" you chuckled, watching as he turned excitedly to his mom to repeat the new fact.

moments like these made your job fulfilling. it also helped that leehan was always nearby whenever you hesitated on identifying a particular species.

"that's a flashlight fish," he murmured one time when he noticed you squinting at a glowing fish behind the glass. "it uses bioluminescent bacteria to light up and communicate with others in the dark."

you blinked up at him, impressed. "that's so cool… i mean, i knew that, of course," you joked, nudging his arm lightly.

he only smirked in response.

the way he effortlessly spoke about the sea creatures, made you admire him even more. your heart had been set on marine biology because of him, and now here you were, sharing this space, learning from him, existing in his world.

and he didn’t seem to mind your presence at all.

for the next few weeks, a routine settled between you two. you love your job, the people were kind, and every day ended the same— walking to the convenience store across the pedestrian lane, where leehan would insist on buying you your favorite kimbap and milk.

"you don't have to pay for me every time," you huffed, nudging his arm as he handed you the food.

"just let me," he grinned, brushing off your protest like it was nothing. "i promise tomorrow you're on your own."

but, of course, tomorrow always came with him pulling out his wallet again.

leehan was easy to be around, much easier than you had expected. he was warm, soft-spoken yet surprisingly funny, always throwing in quiet remarks that made you laugh when you least expected it.

"you know, if you stare at the seahorses any longer, they might start staring back," he teased one afternoon as he caught you zoning out in front of one of the tanks.

you turned to him, flustered. "i wasn't!"

"you totally were," he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

the only problem? his face—his distractingly, unfairly handsome face. you would try to focus on what he was saying, nodding along as he spoke about coral bleaching or deep-sea fish, but half the time, your brain just screamed, wow, he's really pretty. blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff

and the worst part? it wasn't just his looks anymore. the more you got to know him, the deeper you found yourself sinking. he wasn't just the quiet, nerdy boy you had admired from afar—he was kind, attentive, and effortlessly charming in his own way.

but did he see you the same way?

that thought haunted you late at night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying every interaction. maybe you were overthinking. maybe he was just being friendly. after all, you were the only one who had ever shown genuine interest in his passion. maybe he was just grateful for that.

you sighed, frustration bubbling up. why can't my crush like me back? but then, you reminded yourself that this was already more than you could have asked for.

you had become his friend. his co-worker. you got to spend time with him in a way you had only dreamed of back then. and for now, that was enough.

the day off had finally arrived, and by all means, you were supposed to be curled up in your room, wrapped in the comfort of your onesie with a book in hand. instead, here you were, standing by the shore near the aquarium, the salty breeze tousling the loose strands of your hair. the morning sunlight bathed the scene before you—the gentle waves rolling onto the sand, the distant chatter of families and tourists, and the seagulls gliding lazily above.

you wore a light blue gingham dress, the soft fabric swaying slightly in the wind, and over your shoulders, a white knitted cardigan kept the chill at bay. your hair was tied up into a neat bun, though a few strands had slipped free, framing your face. you leaned against the metal railing that separated the shore from the cement platform where various food stalls and the aquarium stood in the middle of it all.

it still felt surreal that leehan had asked you to hang out today. the moment you saw his message hours ago, you had flung your phone onto your bed, pacing the room in a frenzy before bouncing off the walls in excitement. you could've gone with your usual default look—your trusty blue jumper, striped shirt, sneakers, and a messy ponytail, but something about today felt different, special. so, instead, you took the extra time to put yourself together, wanting to look at least somewhat presentable next to him.

would it be silly to think that dressing up for a casual hangout with your crush was totally justifiable? probably. but would it stop you? absolutely not.

you were so lost in your thoughts, replaying the past few hours in your head, that you barely noticed when someone stepped beside you, leaning against the railing quietly.

"enjoying the seagulls?"

your heart nearly leaped out of your chest. snapping out of your daze, you turned your head, and immediately wished you hadn't.

leehan stood beside you, dressed in a black shirt, with beige cardigan that complimented his fair skin, paired with jeans. his usual oversized hoodie and sweatpants were nowhere in sight. instead, his, brown hair was neatly tucked behind his ear, with a few loose strands falling perfectly around his face. and to top it all off, he wasn't wearing his glasses today, revealing his soft, expressive eyes that you suddenly found impossible to look away from.

you felt yourself freeze, blinking once, twice, just to make sure this wasn't some sort of hallucination. dressed up leehan was a rare sight. a painfully attractive one, at that.

he raised a brow at your delayed reaction, a small smile tugging at his lips. "you okay?"

crap, say something. anything.

"uh- yeah," you blurted out, feeling your face heat up. you quickly turned back toward the ocean, willing yourself to focus on the waves instead of the ridiculously handsome boy standing beside you. "weather's pretty clear today."

leehan smirked, "yeah, it is."

the silence that followed wasn't awkward, but rather comfortable—just the two of you standing there, the wind carrying the distant sound of chatters and crashing waves. you stole a quick glance at him, only to find that he was already looking at you.

"let's walk?" leehan straightened up, pushing himself off the railing and turning to face you.

you nodded, smiling. "alright, let's go."

as the two of you strolled side by side, you instinctively took your place on his left. but before you could settle into your place, leehan gently tapped a hand on your shoulder, guiding you to switch places.

"bikes and people running past—might hit you," he explained, flashing a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

you pursed your lips, trying to contain the grin trying to spread across your face. "oh- yeah, right," you stammered.

as you walked, you could feel his gaze on you. you caught glimpses of it from your peripheral vision, but you didn't dare look. if you did, he would see the shade of tomato blooming on your cheeks.

then, in that soft, teasing tone of his, he spoke. "you look different today, hm."

your brows furrowed as you turned to him. "different? me?" you pointed at yourself, playing dumb.

leehan nodded, keeping his gaze forward. "mhm, pretty different." he paused, eyes drifting off as if suddenly fascinated by the stalls lining the street smirk, "like, pretty."

then, he broke into a giggle. you let out an embarrassed laugh, nudging his arm. "why are you laughing? you probably didn't even mean that."

leehan's giggles faded into a small smile, one that felt sincere. "i mean it," he said, glancing at you again. "you look nice."

your smile faltered for a split second—not out of disappointment, but because internally, you were already soaring a thousand miles above the ground, but on the outside, you tried to play it cool.

"thank you...?" you scratched your cheek, voice coming out higher than you intended. "i mean—you look great today too." you chuckled, quickly averting your eyes, "no glasses suit you."

leehan hummed, touching his temple. "really? i'm wearing contacts right now."

you tilted your head slightly. "mhm, well..." you hesitated before finally turning to look at him directly. his eyes met yours, and for a moment, you simply observed. but apparently, your gaze held more power than you thought, because leehan visibly tensed, his ears turning bright red.

you smiled. "you look nice without glasses, but with glasses... you're leehan."

he blinked, processing your words before narrowing his eyes. "i'm what?" he asked.

you shifted on your feet, feeling like you'd just set yourself up for embarrassment. "you're you when you wear glasses... and, well, we're also matching."

the second the words left your mouth, you wanted to disappear. 'matching?? am i deadass?'

leehan didn't say anything at first. just a slow nod. then, after a moment of silence, he suddenly pointed at a food stall. "let's eat there. my treat."

you opened your mouth to object, but before you could get a word out, he swiftly shushed you. "shh, no buts."

with that, he turned on his heel and stepled toward the stall, leaving you standing there, still recovering from the rollercoaster of emotions he'd just put you through.

but then, just as he walked ahead, he casually threw over his shoulder, "also... i'd wear those glasses every day from now on."

he didn't even look back, but you could hear the grin in his voice. you bit your lip, shaking your head with a smile as you caught up to him.

the entire day from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. was a wrap. usually, spending this long outside with liz would leave you drained. you could already picture yourself slumped on a bench, legs aching, hair a mess, and sighing dramatically about the cruelty of existence. but with leehan? it was different. not a single muscle in your foot felt strained, your throat wasn't dry from talking too much, and even your hair, somehow—remained perfectly in place. if anything, every hour with him felt like a breath of fresh air, rejuvenating instead of exhausting.

and then there were the stolen glances. the ones that made your stomach flip and your heart flutter. every time you caught him looking, his ears would turn a bright, almost comical shade of red, and he'd break into giggles like he had just been caught doing something illegal. which, honestly? in the court of your heart, that was a crime. because what was he doing looking at you like that? did he like you? did you have something on your face? or god forbid, did you look ugly?

now, the two of you stood in front of one of the large aquarium tanks, deciding to walk around before it closes. the dim blue light reflecting off your faces as you both gazed at the marine life gliding through the water. schools of silver fish shimmered as they rippled around, and a stingray floated lazily. you and leehan stood close, but still in your own little bubbles, existing side by side.

out of nowhere, leehan let out a soft chuckle, brushing the back of his hand over his mouth as if trying to stifle it.

you turned to him with a puzzled smile. "what?"

he shook his head, hands slipping behind his back, eyes flickering between you and the tank. "i just remembered something," he said, grinning. "back in seventh grade, i was staring at a koi pond, and it's still one of my best memories."

your eyebrows furrowed. "what, just… looking at a pond?"

"not just any pond," he said. "the one where you suddenly sat beside me."

your face scrunched up in confusion as he continued.

"you were wearing a jumper and a blue shirt. your hair was in these…" he gestured vaguely to his own head. "uneven pigtails."

you gasped in mock offense. "they were not uneven!"

"oh, i still remember, they definitely were," he teased before chuckling. "i thought you were, like, some nerd who also like fishes like me, so i just started blabbering about different koi breeds."

leehan paused, biting back another laugh. "but then i turned to you, and you were just..." he suddenly mimicked your exact expression from back then—mouth slightly agape, wide-eyed, and staring so intently at him that it could've burned a hole through his forehead.

you gasped. "i did not look like that!"

"oh, you so did," he said, doubling over laughing as you lightly shoved his shoulder.

"fine, i admit i had no clue what you were talking about back then," you admitted, crossing your arms. "but it's also the exact moment i got interested in fishes, so there."

the second the words left your mouth, your mind froze. you had just exposed yourself.

his laughter faded into a softer smile. "wait… really?"

you nodded, shifting on your feet. "yeah- i mean... at first, i was just trying to understand what you were saying so i wouldn't look dumb, but then… i actually got into it."

leehan's lips parted slightly, as if something was dawning on him. then, with a boyish grin, he hummed, "huh… that's cute."

your face warmed. "shut up."

"i just—" he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "i honestly thought you were super into it that day. i didn't realize you were just trying to keep up."

"well," you fumbled, twisting the fabric of your skirt between your fingers. "i wanted to be your friend so i thought learning about something you love would help… and besides, marine life is actually interesting."

leehan hummed, nodding slowly as he kept his gaze on the tank. then, without looking at you, he muttered, "i actually thought you were really adorable back then."

your heart skipped a beat, but before you could say anything, he continued. "but then you… kind of disappeared. well, not literally," he clarified, squinting as if trying to find the right words. "more like, i noticed you stopped talking to me as much. i thought maybe i weirded you out that day, and honestly?" he let out a self-deprecating laugh. "i got a little sad about it."

you felt a pang of guilt and embarrassment drop in your chest. "it wasn't that," you admitted softly. "i was just… scared you'd think i was uninteresting because i didn't know anything about your hobby." you rocked on the sole of your feet, staring at the glowing reflections on the floor. "that's why i started learning about marine biology. but the more i learned, the more i actually loved it."

leehan turned to face you fully now, a lopsided grin forming. "so you're telling me… you did all that just so you could be friends with me?"

the teasing in his voice made your stomach flip, but before you could deflect, he let out a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest. "that's so heartbreaking. here i was, thinking you actually liked me back then—ow."

you would've laughed, but instead, you internally cursed your luck. he used to like me when i thought i was the most boring person he had ever met?!

forcing out an awkward giggle, you tried to conceal the disappointment in your chest. "oh- really?" you bit your lip, shifting your eyes elsewhere. "well, yeah… what a shame, really."

leehan studied you for a moment, his teasing expression softening into something more sincere. he exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. "honestly, it was the most embarrassing crush ever. i even tried to stop liking fish because i thought it made me weird."

your head snapped toward him. "and here i was spending my entire life liking fish because i thought it'd make you like me," you said with a small, incredulous smile.

he let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "i already liked you, fish or no fish." he sighed. "but… knowing that you found a passion because of me?" his voice was quieter now. "that actually makes me really happy."

your lips parted slightly as you finally looked at him—really looked at him. his eyes sparkled under the dim teal glow of the aquarium, his was relaxed, the light reflected off his face in a way that made your heart feel like it was trying to escape your chest.

and then, his voice dropped even softer. "actually—no." he hesitated, swallowing before continuing. "i like you. i was genuinely happy when i saw you here a week ago. and when you told me you were going to work here, i swear, i was kicking my feet home."

you swear you were soaring up high. your hands clenched at your sides as you tried to process his words. it was like a dream, a dream so surreal that you subtly pinched your leg just to make sure it was actually happening.

you opened your mouth, but nothing came out. leehan seemed to take that as hesitation because he quickly backtracked. "no,you don't have to say anything. i'm sorry if that—"

"no," you cut him off, your voice barely above a whisper. "leehan, i like you."

he froze.

"i lied about the whole 'friend' thing," you admitted, your head dropping to the floor. "i just… didn't think you'd like me."

you suddenly felt the presence of leehan's palms hovering near your cheeks, his fingertips hesitating just inches away. "can i?"

you gave a small nod. that was all he needed. his palms, warm and slightly trembling, finally cupped your cheeks, his touch was careful as if he were holding something fragile.

"i can't really say you shouldn't think like that," he assured, his voice dipping lower as he leaned in, his torso bowing slightly to match your height. "because i thought the same too—i thought you wouldn't like me."

your chest pounded at his confession, but before you could speak, he continued, his voice tuned with something raw, and vulnerable.

"but now that i'm close to you again, it feels like a door has reopened. and you don't even know how long i admired you, and waited for this."

your eyes finally flickered up to meet his. a small, barely there, laugh escaped your lips, "me too. it's almost funny."

leehan exhaled, his shoulders loosening slightly, and his other hand came up to cup the other side of your face, thumbs brushing over your smooth cheeks in slow, tender strokes. neither of you spoke. the world had shrunk down to just the two of you—the distant, rhythmic bubbling of water, the gentle gliding of fish behind the glass walls of the aquarium, the silence muffling between breaths.

his starry eyes were locked onto yours. you felt the moment shift, your pulse thrumming louder in your ears as he inched closer. your eyes fluttered shut, and that was his cue.

then—his lips met yours. soft, featherlight, barely a touch, yet enough to send warmth spreading through your entire body. his lips moved with gentle care, patient and unhurried. his thumbs caressed your skin, tracing slow, soothing circles against your cheeks.

your hands, instinctively, reached for him, fingers curling around his torso, pinching around the fabric of his cardigan. he tilted his head slightly, pressing another tender and soft kiss. but you didn't need to tiptoe, didn't need to reach because he was already there, leaning down to meet you effortlessly.

just as slowly as he had pressed a kiss to your lips seconds ago, he pulled away with the same careful hesitation. lingering for a moment. his eyes remained closed. then, slowly, they fluttered open—widened pupils reflecting the soft twinkles of light around you.

both of you let out a breathy chuckle. your hands, which had instinctively wrapped around his torso, loosened their hold, instead trailing down to grasp the hem of his sleeve.

leehan glanced down, noticing the way you clung to his clothing. without a word, he reached for your hands, gently removing them from his shirt—but instead of letting go, he brought them up, his fingers handling yours delicately. his gaze softened as he lifted your hand to his face, pressing a featherlight kiss against your knuckles.

his breath was warm as he whispered, "i've only been dreaming of this... i thought i was waiting for the impossible. and yet, here it is."

his fingers intertwined with yours as he lowered your hand, still holding onto it.

"ditto." you breathed out the word, an indescribable happiness spreading across your face, butterflies stirring restlessly in your stomach.

leehan exhaled a snicker. his fingers brushed a few stray strands from your face, tucking them into place. "would you… want to go out with me?" he asked, his lips curling into a hopeful smile. "a proper date?"

you let out a giggle, tilting your head. "well... isn't this already a proper date?"

leehan let out a grin, shaking his head in amusement. "then," he started, tightening his hold on your hands and swinging them lightly, "would you want to go out with me on a second proper date?"

you let the moment stretch just a little, teasingly squinting at him before breaking into a smile. "yes, yes, leehan. i would." you blinked at him, feeling his hands wrapping warmly around yours.

he laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners, before adding, "and… adopt corydoras too?"

a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you echoed, "and, adopt corydoras too."

[hancorys]

k.lh — things that your bf does that just make sense

genre: FLUFFFFF, self-indulged, i miss my crunch crunch cutieful patootie munchkin boop boop poopoo bear star *sobs* pairing: bf!leehan x afab!reader wc: 1152 warning: NONE, i jus love donghyun sm you won’t understand, i feel like crashing out last night *cries* listen: my love — paul mccartney

loving leehan feels like warmth-like quiet gestures, soft smiles, and the little things he does without thinking. he doesn’t just say he loves you; he shows it, in all the ways that matter.

— always makes sure you're warm

it’s late at night, and you’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone. you don’t even realize that the blanket has slipped off your shoulders until you feel the familiar warmth of it being draped back over you. leehan doesn’t say a word, just tucks the fabric around you carefully, making sure it covers your feet too.

he sits beside you, letting his arm rest behind you on the couch, fingers lightly tracing patterns along your back. “you always forget,” he murmurs, amusement laced in his voice.

you glance up at him, already feeling sleepier under the newfound warmth. “that’s why i have you,” you mumble, leaning into his side.

he smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “always.”

— listens to you even when you think he’s not

weeks ago, you had offhandedly mentioned a bakery you wanted to visit. you never brought it up again, not even thinking leehan would remember. but now, you’re standing right in front of it, your fingers intertwined with his as he grins down at you.

“surprise,” he says, nudging you toward the entrance.

you blink, a little stunned. “wait… you remembered?”

he squeezes your hand like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “of course. you looked so excited talking about it. figured we had to come.”

your heart swells, and before you can stop yourself, you throw your arms around him, hugging him tight. he chuckles, easily wrapping his arms around your waist. “thank you,” you whisper into his shoulder.

he tilts his head, lips brushing against your ear. “anything for you.”

— gives you the last bite

you’re both sharing a slice of cake, forks clinking softly against the plate. it’s your favorite kind, and leehan loves it too, which is why you’re extra aware when there’s only one bite left. you glance at him, ready to offer it, but before you can say anything, he pushes the last bite toward you with a small smile.

“you have it,” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you frown. “but you like this.”

he shrugs, leaning his chin on his palm as he watches you. “yeah, but i like you more.”

your face heats up, and he just laughs, nudging your fork closer to your lips. “eat, love.” and you do—because how could you ever say no to him?

— knows when you're about to cry before you do

you’re staring at your laptop, blinking rapidly, willing yourself not to cry. the weight of the day is pressing down on you, frustration knotting in your chest. you don’t say anything, don’t even make a sound—but leehan notices. he always does.

he doesn’t ask what’s wrong. instead, he silently pulls you into his arms, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield. his hand finds your back, rubbing slow, comforting circles, and it’s all it takes for the dam to break.

“i got you,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice soft, steady.

you clutch onto him, letting the tears fall, and he just holds you—no questions, no rush. just him, just this, just the quiet understanding that he’ll always be there.

— waits for you to text that you got home safe

you say goodnight, part ways, but you know he’s not going to sleep until he gets your message. and true enough, the second you step inside your home, you send a quick, just got home!

his reply comes instantly. good. sleep well, love.

sometimes, when it’s late, he adds, call me before you sleep? just wanna hear your voice. and even though you’re tired, even though the day has drained you, you always call. because his voice feels like home, and there’s nothing more comforting than hearing him say, “rest well, baby. sweet dreams.”

— ties your shoelaces for you

you groan as you bend down to tie your sneaker, only for your fingers to fumble with the laces. before you can get frustrated, leehan is already crouching in front of you, hands gently pushing yours away.

“let me,” he says, his voice soft.

you watch as he carefully loops the laces into a neat bow, his brows furrowing in concentration. when he’s done, he looks up at you with a small smile. “all set.”

you shake your head, amusement flickering in your eyes. “you know i could’ve done that myself, right?”

he stands up, dusting off his jeans before reaching to brush your hair back. “i know. but i like taking care of you.”

your chest tightens in the best way, and all you can do is cup his face, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “you’re too sweet.”

he grins. “only for you.”

— carries your things without you having to ask

shopping bags, books, your water bottle—whatever it is, leehan always takes it from your hands before you even realize you need help.

“it’s heavy,” you protest when he swings your bag over his shoulder like it weighs nothing.

he just shrugs, looking completely unbothered. “not for me.”

you pout, reaching to take it back, but he smoothly dodges you, a teasing glint in his eyes. “nice try.”

you huff, but secretly, you love it. especially when he casually holds your things in one hand and your hand in the other, as if both are equally precious to him.

— remembers your coffee order

you drag yourself out of bed, still groggy, only to be greeted by leehan standing in the kitchen, holding out your exact coffee order.

“for you,” he says, placing it in your hands.

you blink, wrapping your fingers around the warm cup. “how’d you—”

he tilts his head, lips curving into a soft smile. “you always get this when you’re tired. figured i’d save you the trouble.”

your heart does a little flip. you take a sip, warmth spreading through you—not just from the coffee, but from him.

— tucks your hair behind your ear

whenever the wind blows your hair into your face, leehan’s hand is already there, gently tucking the strands behind your ear. it’s an automatic gesture, something he does without even thinking.

sometimes, his fingers linger, brushing against your skin as he looks at you, his eyes soft, unreadable. “pretty,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

and you? you melt. every single time.

— loves you in ways you don't even realize

it’s in the way he always walks on the side closest to the road. in how he instinctively reaches for your hand in a crowded place. in how he watches you with quiet admiration, even when you’re rambling about something completely random.

it’s in the way he loves you—not loudly, not in grand gestures, but in a million quiet, thoughtful ways that remind you, over and over again, that he’s yours.

it’s just leehan. your leehan. the bestest boy ever.

© hancorys, 2025.

[milkistar-deactivated20250528]

𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐔𝐒...

you and leehan have been inseparable since childhood, but when your feelings start to shift, every glance, every touch, every silence becomes unbearable. afraid of ruining everything, you bury your emotions—until one unexpected confession changes everything. in another universe, you and him might already be together. but what about this one?"

★:: leehan (boynextdoor) x reader.

tags:: fluff, gn reader, best friends to lovers, mentions of food, kinda cliché.

you didn't remember when you had fallen in love with leehan, nor why. it had happened slowly, gradually, consuming your heart like a flame.

he had never changed—his attitude toward you always remained the same, the afternoons spent together always followed the same routine. but the lenses through which you saw him had changed drastically, making you almost feel like a different person stood before you at times. but in reality, it was you who felt different.

and now? now, just looking at him made your stomach twist, and that made you feel so bad that you wanted to cry. "it'll pass with time," you kept telling yourself. but the more time passed, the less friendly and more romantic your feelings for him became. it was exhausting.

you had been friends since childhood, seatmates from elementary school all the way to high school. together, you skipped several school events to eat ice cream and watch b-horror movies, got your driver's licenses at the same time, and even went on your first out-of-town trip together.

you kicked your bedroom door open, your hands full with two cans of energy drink and an extra-large bag of chips. leehan was exactly where you had left him—lying on your bed, phone in hand.

he had arrived at your house about half an hour ago, using the excuse that he was bored to death and that talking to his fish wasn’t giving him much satisfaction. then, without even asking for permission, he had made his way to your room and thrown himself onto your bed without ceremony.

you had lost count of how many times leehan had gone from being bored at his house to being bored at yours.

"come help me, idiot," you said, motioning to your full hands.

he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, then smiled and returned to staring at his phone screen. "no." you expected that.

you placed the things on the bed, then grabbed one of the cans and threw it at him. just because you expected it didn’t mean he should go unpunished.

"ouch," he complained, rubbing his side where the can had hit him. "you're cruel."

"and you're lazy," you replied, walking over to close the door again.

you sat on the bed, close enough to him not to raise suspicion, but far enough to keep your heart from short-circuiting.

you grabbed the remaining can and opened it to take a sip. leehan, after finishing his dramatic act of pretending he had taken a fatal blow, sat up as well and did the same.

you both stayed silent for a few minutes. it wasn’t strange—your friendship had reached the point where such silences weren’t awkward and happened often. then, he broke the quiet.

"you know, y/n, i was thinking about something yesterday," he said, running a hand through his long hair. "do you think, in another universe, the two of us are together?"

needless to say, you choked on your drink. "excuse me?"

you turned red. bad. very bad sign.

"i was reading a post about soulmates the other night, and the author wrote that in different dimensions, soulmates can be both best friends and lovers. and, well, you're my best friend," he explained casually, fiddling with his phone to find the post he was talking about.

your chest ached. of course, you were his best friend. maybe you were just born in the wrong dimension.

you skimmed through the post he showed you, taking another sip from your can before nodding. "yeah, probably in another universe we are, but fortunately, in this one, we're not." you laughed after saying it. you had to avoid any hint of suspicion forming in his mind.

there was another stretch of silence, then, once again, he broke it

"why?" he asked.

you looked at him, confused. you actually understood, but you didn't want to make it seem like you were thinking about it too. "why what?"

"why is it fortunate that we're not together in this one?" he looked into your eyes and spoke again before you could even come up with an excuse. "i’d like it."

you blushed again, and before you could regain your ability to speak, he kissed you. no warning, so fast that you weren’t even sure if it had really happened.

you did the same, and without thinking, you spoke. "no." you hesitantly placed a hand on his arm, your fingers trembling. "i… i was joking earlier." you forced yourself to look into his eyes and hold his gaze. "i’d like it too."

"sorry, i shouldn’t have," he said, suddenly jumping up from the bed.

he smiled and then kissed you again, this time slowly, allowing you to savor his long-desired lips. and that was only the first kiss of many.

[hancorys]

k.lh — language of quiet hearts

genre: slowburn, fluff, sort of crack, comfort, strangers to lovers pairing: leehan x afab!reader wc: 9.5k warning: long-ass narrative and romance pace (bcs i’m a sucker for slowburn), aespa, belle and bonedo mentioned. FISHES mentioned!! lots of them, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind mentioned, my never ending “to be loved is to be known” mantra listen: ligaw — moonstar88 ft. chito miranda, love. — wte, bad — wte, sa bawat sandali — amiel sol, romcom — rob daniel, balisong — rivermaya, valentine — laufey

“welcome to the broadcasting club! we are pleased to have you here!”

a guy with a bright, almost too enthusiastic smile greets you the moment you step into the journalism headquarters. his voice carries an undeniable warmth, as if he’s been waiting all day just for your arrival. jaehyun—that’s his name. at least, that's what you remember from the posters.

the room hums with a quiet energy, papers rustling, low voices exchanging thoughts, the soft clicking of keyboards filling the spaces in between. the air smells faintly of old books, freshly brewed coffee, and the unmistakable scent of ink from the scattered printouts on the desks.

this is your first day at the broadcasting club. you had been enticed by one of their posters pinned outside your classroom, the words practically calling out to you—

“want a peaceful environment? join the broadcasting club now!”

peaceful, huh? looking at the head president in front of you, you're beginning to think otherwise. jaehyun radiates energy, the kind that makes you wonder if he’s ever known a moment of stillness in his life.

“uh… where do i sign?” you ask, shifting slightly on your feet.

jaehyun tilts his head. “sign what?”

“for the membership,” you clarify, fingers fidgeting at the hem of your sleeve, as if grounding yourself will somehow make the nerves dissipate.

“oh! right!” his sudden exclamation startles you slightly, making you stiffen for a brief second before you let out a soft chuckle, trying to mask your embarrassment.

he grins, unfazed, before motioning for you to follow. as he guides you further into the headquarters, your gaze flits around, taking in the space, committing the details to memory.

the room is a blend of organized chaos—papers stacked in precarious piles, sticky notes clinging desperately to the edges of computer screens, bookshelves lined with past publications and reference materials. a group of students huddle over a laptop in one corner, their quiet murmurs blending into the background noise. across the room, another group chats animatedly, their laughter breaking through the otherwise mellow atmosphere.

but then, your eyes land on him.

a guy stands near the farthest desk, his posture relaxed yet focused. his fingers move effortlessly over the buttons of a sleek camera, adjusting the settings with practiced ease. strands of dark hair fall slightly over his forehead, catching the soft glow of the overhead lights. he doesn’t seem aware of the world around him, completely immersed in whatever he's doing.

his brows knit together as he checks the camera screen, lips slightly parted in concentration. you wonder what he sees through the lens—what kind of stories he captures, what moments he finds worthy enough to frame.

your gaze lingers for a second longer before you shake yourself out of it. you’ve barely been here for five minutes, and you're already getting distracted.

straightening your posture, you let out a quiet breath before returning your attention to jaehyun, who’s still talking about the club’s activities. but even as you listen, your thoughts briefly wander back to the boy with the camera.

for the whole day, you barely did anything related to broadcasting. no writing, no editing—just a long, hellish day of socializing.

it’s not that you hate people. they’re not necessarily annoying, and you don’t think you’re above conversation. but being around too many of them at once? exhausting. overwhelming. you’ve always preferred the quiet that comes with staying in your own bubble, away from the small talk and forced interactions.

but today, jaehyun had other plans for you. he made sure to drag you from one conversation to another, introducing you to every single person in the club, making sure you weren’t left standing in a corner by yourself. you were drowning in introductions, nodding and smiling so much your cheeks started to hurt. you had exchanged pleasantries, laughed at jokes you barely understood, and answered the same questions over and over—“what made you join the club?” “how do you like it so far?” “do you write news or more on the features side?”

by the time the day was coming to an end, all you wanted was to sink into the nearest chair and disappear.

“before we end today’s agenda, please gather up here,” jaehyun calls out, motioning everyone to the giant couch in the middle of the room.

the members shuffle around, some grabbing last-minute snacks, others dragging chairs closer. you, on the other hand, are just about ready to bolt out the door, but before you can even think about it, jaehyun’s eyes land on you.

“y/n, come up front.”

you freeze.

slowly, hesitantly, you step forward, hands clasped together in an attempt to steady yourself. socializing was one thing, but standing in front of a room full of strangers, being introduced like some kind of special guest? you weren’t prepared for this.

jaehyun, ever the extrovert, beams as he gestures toward you. “everyone, meet y/n! she’s our new writer, so be nice.”

a small round of polite applause follows, along with a few smiles and waves from the group. you manage a shy bow, offering a soft “hello” as your eyes flicker from face to face.

jaehyun, ever the diligent host, takes it upon himself to introduce you to the people you hadn't formally met yet. he points first to a pair sitting close together—

“this is belle and taesan, our main radio announcers. they basically run the shows.”

belle gives you a friendly nod, while taesan grins and throws up a peace sign.

“woonhak and sungho—our sports feature writers. they’re also on the soccer team, so expect a lot of game recaps from them.”

the two boys flash matching smiles, exuding the kind of effortless confidence that only athletes seem to have.

“riwoo, our editorial writer. he basically keeps us from writing complete garbage.”

riwoo snorts at that, shaking his head as he offers you a knowing smile.

more names are thrown your way—ningning, winter, yuna, daehwi—all of them waving, all of them welcoming. the list seems never-ending, and you nod along, trying your best to commit at least a few of them to memory.

and then, finally, jaehyun points toward the last member.

your gaze follows his gesture until it lands on him.

“that’s leehan, our official photographer.”

he’s still where you last saw him, camera hanging around his neck, fingers lightly tapping against its frame. unlike the others, he doesn’t offer a wave or a smile. instead, he lifts his head just enough to glance at you. it’s brief—so brief you almost miss it—before he gives a small, polite bow and returns his attention to his camera.

“in this room full of extroverts, he’s an alien,” jaehyun murmurs, leaning toward you with a smirk.

you blink, tilting your head slightly. “why?”

jaehyun hums, crossing his arms. “he’s actually an extrovert by nature, but let’s just say… communication isn’t his strong suit.”

you glance back at leehan. he’s adjusting the settings on his camera now, looking through the viewfinder with a quiet kind of focus.

he doesn’t seem unfriendly. just… distant.

reserved.

like he exists just a little outside of the circle, never quite stepping in.

jaehyun chuckles, shaking his head. “he’s not as intimidating as he looks. he just sucks at talking to people.”

you nod slowly, gaze lingering on leehan for a moment longer. there’s something about him that piques your curiosity. maybe it’s the way he carries himself, the way he seems so immersed in his own world, separate from the lively chaos of the club.

or maybe it’s just the fact that, out of everyone you’ve met today, he’s the only one who hasn’t said a single word to you.

---

after the long and exhausting day of forced socializing, all you wanted was to go home, collapse onto your bed, and let the silence wash over you.

but, as luck would have it, the universe had other plans.

as soon as you step out into the parking lot, a sharp plop lands on your cheek. then another on your shoulder. before you can even register what’s happening, the sky opens up, and the rain comes down in heavy sheets, soaking the pavement in seconds.

shit.

you mutter a curse under your breath and break into a sprint, making a beeline for the nearest waiting shed. the cold raindrops cling to your skin, drenching your sleeves, your hair, the hem of your jeans. by the time you reach cover, you’re damp and shivering, rubbing your arms as you let out a tired sigh.

you shake the excess water from your hands, watching the rain crash against the asphalt. it’s relentless, the kind of downpour that could last for hours.

you exhale sharply. great. guess i’m stuck here.

as you wring out the sleeve of your jacket, you feel it—a light tap on your shoulder.

at first, you think it’s just a stray raindrop. you ignore it.

but then it happens again.

tap, tap, tap.

three soft, deliberate taps.

you turn around, eyebrows furrowing.

leehan.

he stands just behind you, his posture relaxed, a large blue umbrella held out in his hand.

you tilt your head, confused.

his expression remains unreadable, eyes flickering to yours before he nudges the umbrella toward you, silently insisting.

you blink.

he nudges it again.

hesitantly, you reach out, your fingers brushing against the smooth handle as you take it from him. the weight of it feels oddly significant, like an unspoken gesture heavier than words.

before you can even thank him, leehan has already moved.

he tugs his black marshall iv headphones back over his ears, slipping them into place as if retreating into his own world. then, in one swift motion, he pulls the hood of his jacket up and steps out into the rain.

you watch, stunned, as he takes off in a light jog, hands shoved into his pockets, head slightly ducked. he doesn’t even bother running properly—just moves at a leisurely pace, as if the rain isn’t drenching him head to toe. his free hand lifts above his head, fingers spread as if shielding himself from the downpour.

as if that’s going to make a difference.

you scoff, shaking your head.

so, he’s leehan.

quiet. distant. unreadable. but unexpectedly thoughtful.

you look down at the umbrella in your hands, running your fingers over the fabric. it’s slightly worn, the handle warm from where he held it.

a small, almost amused smile tugs at your lips.

maybe today wasn’t all bad.

---

when everyone in the club loved to chat or do anything that a typical extrovert would do, you’d find yourself slumped on the worn-out sofa in the farthest corner of the journalism office, tucked away from the noise. the room was always bustling with energy—voices overlapping, laughter echoing off the walls, the faint hum of computers in the background. yet, in your little corner, it felt like the world was muted, and you found comfort in that.

it’s been a week since you joined the broadcasting club, and you were surprised at how much you were enjoying it. their slogan promised a peaceful atmosphere, and while that wasn’t entirely accurate—there was always some level of chaos—it was still the perfect place to escape without affecting your class schedule. the best part? you could stay inside the broadcasting headquarters as long as you liked, surrounded by shelves crammed with old tapes, stacks of forgotten scripts, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. it felt like a secret sanctuary, and you were slowly getting attached to it.

you were curled up on the sofa, legs folded beneath you as you held a haruki murakami book, fingers lightly gripping a pen that danced along the pages as you scribbled little notes in the margins. the words on the paper seemed to blur at times as your mind wandered, losing focus just to drift back with a renewed curiosity. occasionally, you’d lift your gaze, letting your imagination fill the room, painting scenes inspired by the story in your head.

your eyes drifted to the water dispenser, the hum of the cooling unit blending into the background noise. and that’s when you saw him—leehan, standing by the dispenser, his hair slightly tousled, fingers tapping impatiently against his cup as he waited for the water to fill.

the blue umbrella.

shit. you forgot his umbrella, and it’s been a week since that rainy day when you borrowed it. you pressed your palm to your forehead, feeling the embarrassment flood in. you promised yourself right then—you’d definitely bring it tomorrow. no more excuses.

the next morning, you arrived at the broadcasting headquarters earlier than usual, the blue umbrella clutched tightly in your hand. the sky outside was still a soft gray, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. inside, the familiar hum of equipment and faint chatter greeted you. a few early birds were already scattered around, their sleepy good mornings exchanged as you made your way through the room. your eyes instinctively searched for him, and you didn’t have to look far.

leehan was at the coffee table, a book in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other, his posture relaxed as his eyes skimmed over the pages. the soft glow from the window cast a golden hue on his face, and for a moment, you stood frozen, unsure of what to say—or if you should say anything at all.

you approached him quietly, your footsteps light against the worn floorboards. when you were standing in front of him, you didn’t bother with words. instead, you gently tapped his shoulder, just like he did that day when he handed you the umbrella without a single word. his eyes flicked up, widening in surprise as they met yours.

before he could say anything, you held out the umbrella, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment before you quickly pulled away. his lips parted, as if to say something, but you were already turning on your heels, leaving the room before he could respond. you didn’t even know why you were rushing, heart pounding as you disappeared down the hallway.

and yet, no matter how far you tried to run, you couldn’t escape the fact that leehan was everywhere. it started to feel like he was haunting you, always showing up in the same places, always close but never speaking. like now, for example.

you were curled up in your favorite corner, the ancient sofa sagging beneath your weight as you tapped your pen against the pages of your notebook. you’d been staring at the same sentence for what felt like an eternity, words tangled in your mind, refusing to form coherent thoughts. but your distraction wasn’t just because of writer’s block.

across the room, leehan was there, again. his camera rested in his hands, fingers absentmindedly adjusting the lens. he wasn’t taking any pictures, just fiddling with the settings, eyes occasionally flicking up before quickly looking away. you wondered if he knew you noticed. if he realized how obvious he was.

this wasn’t the first time.

last week, you were in the library, wedged between two dusty shelves, lost in an old poetry book. the rhythmic patter of rain against the windows created a soothing melody, and you were fully immersed in the words until a faint presence disrupted your peace. you looked up, and there he was—one aisle over, his eyes skimming book titles, fingers trailing along the spines without actually pulling any out. you turned a page. he turned a page. you sighed and scribbled a note. he shifted his weight, adjusting the strap of his camera bag. it was almost like you were synced, even though neither of you said a word.

then there was that time at the coffee station, a cramped little corner of the student center where people squeezed past each other with hurried apologies. you were pouring cream into your cup, watching the swirling white cloud mix with the coffee’s dark brown. you felt him before you saw him—standing just behind you, close enough for you to feel his presence, but not close enough to touch.

you didn’t turn around. you didn’t have to. you moved aside, and he stepped forward, reaching for a sugar packet. his movements were slow, deliberate, the crinkle of the packet tearing breaking the silence between you. you knew he liked exactly one sugar in his coffee because you had seen him do this before, every time you ran into him here. he stirred his cup slowly, his eyes never meeting yours, but his presence was heavy, lingering in the air long after you walked away.

and now, once again, he was here, in the broadcasting headquarters, across from you with his camera in hand. neither of you spoke. the silence felt heavy, charged with something unspoken, the distance between you feeling smaller than it actually was. you wondered if he knew how many times you noticed him. if he realized that he was becoming a constant in your day, an unspoken presence that you were starting to expect.

leehan’s gaze shifted, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before he looked back at his camera, his fingers continuing to fiddle with the lens. you quickly looked away, pretending to be lost in your notebook again, the pen tapping against the paper as your heart raced.

---

the quietness with the both you started shifting when he saw you at the couch, sitting during one break, reading one of the books he was into—fishes.

slowly, leehan approached, standing near the arm of the couch, his fingers tightening slightly around the strap of his camera bag.

“t-that’s a cool book.” he said just enough for you to hear.

“yes, i love reading this every now and then,” you blinked. 

“you… like fishes?” he looked just as surprised as you felt, like he hadn’t really planned on speaking.

for a second, you only stared at each other. then, you nodded and smiled.

“i have some,” you murmured, voice quieter than the bustling room around you.

his eyebrows lifted slightly. “some?”

you hesitated, then closed the book halfway, your fingers still keeping your place. “i have six. a small tank in my apartment.”

leehan blinked, and then, before he could stop himself, he sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

“what kind?”

there was something about the way he asked, like he actually cared about the answer. you shifted slightly, feeling the couch dip with his added weight.

“a mix… two bettas, a couple of neon tetras, and some corydoras.”

leehan exhaled, a soft, amused sound that almost resembled a laugh. “you really know your fish.”

you shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “i just think they’re interesting.”

“you have fish, too?”

leehan leaned back slightly, nodding. “yeah… a planted tank. mostly rasboras and shrimp.”

for the first time, the quiet between you wasn’t just comfortable—it was expectant, like something unspoken had shifted.

“how do you keep shrimp alive?” you asked after a moment, genuinely curious. “mine never last longer than a few weeks.”

he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “it’s all about the water parameters. i can show you sometime if you want.”

it was a simple offer, but it felt bigger than that.

you nodded, tucking your legs under you. “i’d like that.”

and just like that, the conversation flowed.

for hours, you talked. about fish, about aquariums, about the best water conditions and tank setups.

leehan was in awe.

he had never talked this much before. never felt this comfortable.

since that day, something quietly shifted between you and leehan.

it wasn’t sudden, nothing dramatic. just subtle changes—small, unspoken gestures that gradually became routine.

like how he’d now linger near the couch during breaks, pretending to scroll through his camera or fiddle with his lenses, when you both knew he was waiting for you to sit down and talk.

and you did. you always did.

at first, it was just about fish. he’d bring books with colorful covers, filled with illustrations of vibrant aquatic life, and you’d pour over the pages together, sharing your thoughts, comparing notes.

once, he showed up with a tiny container. fish food.

“try it,” he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

you crinkled your nose. “are you crazy?”

“it’s not that bad,” he argued, leaning back against the couch with a casual shrug. “just a little salty.”

you stared at the container, hesitating. “you’ve tried it before?”

his lips curved into a small, almost playful smile. “curiosity got the best of me.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “i’ll pass.”

he just grinned, tucking the container back into his bag. “suit yourself. give some for your fishes though.”

it wasn’t always about fish, though. sometimes, it was about journalism.

he’d ask about your writing—your ideas, your process, what you wanted to bring to the broadcasting club. you’d stumble over your words at first, unused to someone showing such genuine interest. but leehan was patient, his quiet encouragement coaxing you out of your shell.

one afternoon, he found you struggling with an article, your laptop open and your fingers frozen above the keyboard.

“stuck?” he asked, his voice low and soft.

you exhaled, leaning back with a groan. “i don’t know how to start this.”

leehan glanced at the screen, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned in closer. “just write the first thing that comes to mind. you can always edit it later.”

“easy for you to say,” you muttered. “you’re just clicking a button. i have to actually make sense.”

he rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched with amusement. “you think photography is that easy?”

you shrugged, teasing. “pretty much.”

he shot you a mock glare, then grabbed his camera, holding it out to you. “here. let’s see you take a decent shot then.”

you hesitated, fingers brushing against the cold metal. “i don’t know how to use this.”

“i’ll teach you.”

and he did.

he showed you how to adjust the settings, how to find the right angle, how to capture light and shadow. his voice was patient, his hands occasionally guiding yours, his touch warm and careful.

you ended up taking a picture of a half-empty cup of coffee, the light from the window hitting it just right. it was a terrible shot, the focus all wrong, the composition awkward.

but leehan looked at it like it was something special.

“not bad,” he said softly. “you’ve got an eye for this.”

you tried to ignore the way his words made your heart flutter.

then there was the day he showed you his portfolio.

“it’s nothing special,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed, as he handed you his tablet.

you started scrolling, taking in shot after shot—landscapes drenched in golden light, candid moments of laughter, the vibrant energy of city streets. his photos were alive, bursting with emotion and movement.

“leehan,” you breathed, eyes wide with awe. “these are... incredible.”

he ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “thanks.”

then you saw it.

you almost scrolled past it, but something made you stop. it was a shot of the broadcasting club room, sunlight filtering through the window, the warm glow wrapping around a familiar figure.

you.

your profile turned to the side, a small, thoughtful smile playing on your lips as you scribbled something in your notebook. your hair fell gently over your shoulder, your expression soft and serene.

your heart skipped a beat. “w-when did you take this?”

leehan froze. his eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. “oh... uh... that... i was just testing the lighting, and you were there, and...” he trailed off, clearly flustered. his cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in his shoes.

you tried to keep your voice steady, tried to ignore the heat creeping up your own cheeks. “it’s... a good shot.”

he glanced at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge your reaction. “really?”

you nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “yeah. you’re really good at this.”

for a second, he just stared at you, his expression softening, his shoulders relaxing. then he looked away, his ears tinged red. “thanks...”

after that, things changed—just a little.

he started showing you more of his photos, and sometimes, you’d catch glimpses of yourself in them. blurry, candid shots. nothing posed, nothing intentional. just stolen moments.

you never asked why. and he never explained.

but slowly, leehan’s presence became a constant in your life.

he’d seek you out during breaks, sitting across from you at the couch, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing quietly beside you.

other times, you’d find him standing outside the broadcasting club room, his hands tucked in his pockets, waiting for you without saying a word. you’d walk out together, your footsteps falling in sync, a comfortable silence wrapping around you both.

and then there were the little things.

like the way he’d slide over an extra bottle of water when he noticed yours was empty. or how he’d subtly adjust the window blinds so the sunlight wouldn’t glare on your laptop screen.

or how he’d hold out his hand when you were struggling with carrying too many things at once, his fingers brushing against yours just for a second before he took the burden off your hands.

you never talked about these moments. never addressed the way his gaze would linger a little too long, or how your heart would race whenever he was close.

it was slow, a delicate dance of stolen glances and soft smiles, of shared silences and unspoken words.

but somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, you and leehan were getting closer.

---

what you had with leehan wasn’t loud. it didn’t demand attention, didn’t clamor to be seen or heard. it was quiet, gentle, almost delicate in its existence. but it was yours.

it started as something small. something almost insignificant.

maybe it was the way your eyes flickered to the door more often than they should, a subtle glance that betrayed the anticipation curling in your stomach. you weren’t waiting for him, not really. but some part of you hoped. hoped that, maybe, leehan would show up, like he always did.

and then, like clockwork, the door creaked open.

your head lifted before you could stop yourself, heart skipping just a little when you saw him step inside. he was balancing a cup of fruit in one hand, a fork in the other, a piece of pineapple poised between his lips. his hair was slightly tousled, like he had run his fingers through it on his way over, and his eyes crinkled as they met yours.

he waved, the motion casual, easy. “hey,” he mumbled around the fruit before quickly chewing and swallowing.

you tried to fight the smile threatening to break free but failed miserably. “hey.”

he walked over, dropping his camera bag onto the chair with a soft thud, the familiar scent of his perfume trailing behind him. it was subtle, a delicate blend of something fresh and slightly woody, tinged with a sweetness that lingered in the air long after he had settled into his seat.

you tried not to notice. you really did.

but it was getting harder.

especially when you started noticing... everything.

like how he always had that cup of fruit with him. pineapple, melon, sometimes apple slices. you weren’t sure why it stood out to you, but it did. maybe it was because of the way he ate, with a sort of quiet focus, his eyes fixed on the cup, his brows drawing together just slightly. or maybe it was the way his lips would curve upwards every time he tasted something particularly sweet.

you’d never paid much attention to it before, but now it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world.

you filed the thought away, only for it to be replaced by something else.

like the way his voice dipped lower when he spoke in hushed tones, the words wrapping around you softly, lingering in the air long after he’d finished speaking. it was calming, a gentle rhythm that soothed even the most restless parts of you.

or the way he tilted his head when he listened, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that made you feel like the most important person in the room. he didn’t just hear you; he listened. truly listened. and somehow, that meant everything.

and then there were the little things, the ones that shouldn’t have mattered but did.

the mole in his neck, peeking out from the collar of his shirt. you weren’t even sure why your eyes kept drifting there, but they did, tracing the shape absently, memorizing the way it stood out against his skin.

or the way he laughed. soft and breathy, like he was trying to hold it back. but when something was really funny, his laugh would break free, louder, more genuine, and he’d immediately cover his face with his hand, his shoulders shaking with embarrassment. you found yourself wanting to hear that laugh more often, wanting to be the reason for it.

you didn’t realize you were staring until he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.

“what?” he asked, a curious smile playing at his lips.

you blinked, heat flooding your cheeks. “nothing,” you mumbled, quickly looking down at your notebook, pretending to be engrossed in whatever you were scribbling.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shrug, going back to his fruit, his foot lightly tapping against the leg of your chair.

and just like that, the world felt a little more grounded.

you didn’t know when it happened—when the quiet presence of leehan became something you looked forward to, something you anticipated without even realizing it. but it did.

because it wasn’t just the moments filled with conversation or laughter that you found yourself craving. it was the silences, too. the ones that stretched comfortably between you, where no words were needed because his presence was enough.

sometimes, you’d both be working on different things, the only sound in the room the soft clicking of keys or the scratch of a pen against paper. yet, you felt more at ease in those moments than you ever did surrounded by noise.

and it was strange—how easily he had slipped into your life, into your routine. how his presence felt natural, like he belonged there, across from you, his fruit cup balanced precariously on his knee as he scrolled through photos on his camera.

you didn’t question it. you were too afraid of what the answer might be.

so you let it be. let yourself notice the way his hair fell messily over his forehead, or the way his fingers drummed absently against the table when he was lost in thought.

let yourself memorize the subtle curve of his smile, the warmth in his gaze whenever he looked at you.

---

leehan had always been observant.

it was something his friends teased him about constantly, claiming he paid too much attention to things that didn’t matter. but to him, the small things did matter. they were what made up the fabric of his world, the tiny details that others overlooked but he found himself lingering on, almost obsessively.

like how the jaehyun, the club president always spun a pen between his fingers when he was deep in thought, his brows knitting together as he tried to piece together the next news segment.

or how the lights in the broadcast room flickered ever so slightly every few minutes, a barely noticeable glitch that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone but him. or how taesan would doodle absentmindedly in the margins of his notebook, his sketches chaotic but oddly charming. or how woonhak had this habit of humming under his breath whenever he was editing videos, the soft tune weaving through the air like a whisper.

leehan noticed all of it. every little thing.

but most of all, he noticed you.

he noticed how you always sat in the same spot on the worn-out couch, legs tucked under you, your body curled in a way that made you look smaller, softer. how you’d have a cup of coffee within reach, the steam curling upwards, and a piece of bread in your hand, nibbling on it absentmindedly as you reviewed scripts or edited recordings.

he noticed how your brows would furrow when you were focused, your nose scrunching just a little, and how your lips would part ever so slightly when you were deep in thought. he noticed how you’d occasionally hum under your breath, a quiet melody that you probably didn’t even realize you were singing.

he noticed the way your hair would fall messily over your face, how you’d push it back absentmindedly, fingers brushing against your cheek with a sort of careless grace that made his chest tighten. he noticed how your eyes would light up when you laughed, the way your shoulders would relax, your entire body leaning into the joy as if nothing else in the world mattered in that moment.

and he noticed the way his heart would stutter every single time.

leehan wanted to talk to you from the very first time he saw you.

it was the first day of the semester, and you had walked into the broadcast room, shoulders slightly hunched as if you were trying to make yourself smaller. you were wearing a faded sweatshirt, the sleeves too long and frayed at the edges, your hair a little messy, like you had rushed out the door without bothering to fix it. you had looked around the room, your gaze flickering nervously before settling on the couch, where you had sat down, curling into yourself like you were trying to disappear.

and that was when it happened.

his heart did this strange, stupid little flip, a fluttering that made him feel lightheaded and dizzy. he didn’t understand it, didn’t know why his chest suddenly felt tight or why his palms were getting clammy. all he knew was that he couldn’t look away.

he wanted to say something, anything, but his throat closed up, the words dying on his tongue. he wasn’t good with people—never had been. talking to someone new was hard enough, but talking to you felt impossible. because you were beautiful. painfully so. and that terrified him.

so he did nothing.

instead, he watched. quietly, carefully, from the corner of the room, his eyes drifting back to you every few seconds, his heart beating a little faster each time.

“dude, you’re staring again,” taesan muttered beside him, his voice low enough that no one else would hear. “it’s getting creepy.”

leehan tore his gaze away, heat rushing to his cheeks. “i’m not staring.”

taesan rolled his eyes. “right. and i’m practically your best friend, dude.” he nudged leehan’s shoulder, a teasing grin on his face. “just go talk to her already.”

“i can’t,” leehan mumbled, his eyes unconsciously drifting back to you. “i... i wouldn’t know what to say.”

“just say hi,” woonhak chimed in, leaning back in his chair. “it’s not rocket science.”

leehan’s stomach twisted at the thought. just the idea of walking up to you, of saying something and potentially making a fool of himself... it was enough to make his palms sweat.

“i’ll just... i’ll just wait,” he muttered, sinking lower in his seat. “for the right moment.”

taesan sighed. “you’ve been waiting for the right moment for months, dude. at this rate, you’ll graduate before you even say hi.”

leehan didn’t respond. because taesan was right. he had been waiting.

and waiting.

and waiting.

but the moment never came.

so he watched instead. and he noticed.

he noticed how you always showed up early, at least fifteen minutes before the rest of the team. how you’d settle into your spot on the couch, sipping your coffee slowly, your shoulders visibly relaxing as the room remained quiet and empty.

he noticed how you always brought a piece of bread, usually something simple—plain toast, a croissant, sometimes a muffin. you’d nibble on it absentmindedly, your eyes fixed on the papers in front of you, occasionally brushing crumbs off your lap.

he noticed how your handwriting was neat but slanted, the letters curving gracefully across the page. how you always underlined your titles twice, the lines perfectly straight, no ruler needed.

he noticed the way you laughed—soft, melodic, the kind of laugh that made his chest feel warm and tight all at once. how you’d cover your mouth when you laughed too hard, your shoulders shaking, eyes crinkling at the corners.

and he noticed how his heart would ache every single time.

“you’re hopeless,” taesan said one day, watching as leehan’s gaze followed you across the room.

leehan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “i know.”

“just talk to her, man,” taesan pressed. “what’s the worst that could happen?”

“everything,” leehan muttered.

at this point, his friends had stopped listening.

but he couldn’t stop. he couldn’t stop noticing you, couldn’t stop wanting to be near you, to talk to you, to make you laugh. he couldn’t stop his heart from racing every time you looked his way, even if it was just for a second.

he couldn’t stop the way his chest tightened when he saw you smile, or the way his mind would go blank whenever you were close enough for him to catch the faint scent of your shampoo.

he couldn’t stop falling for you, even if you didn’t have a clue.

but then one day, everything changed.

it was break time, and leehan was heading toward the coffee station when he saw you.

sitting on the couch.

with his book.

well, not his book, but the book. the national geographic book about fishes. the one he had practically lived in as a kid, flipping through the pages until he had every fish species memorized.

his breath hitched. his hands clenched. his mind went into overdrive.

she likes that book? does that mean she likes fishes? what if it’s just random? what if—

he caught himself before spiraling. no. he needed to act normal. he needed to breathe.

step. step. breathe.

before he could fully comprehend it, he was standing right in front of you. close enough to see the delicate curve of your eyelashes, the way your fingers gently held the pages.

his lips parted, his voice coming out shakier than he wanted. “t-that’s a cool book.” just loud enough for you to hear.

you looked up.

oh. oh god.

leehan swore his heart stopped. just for a moment, he saw the gates of heaven when your eyes met. there was a pause, long enough for the world to blur around the edges, leaving only you in perfect focus.

“yes, i love reading this every now and then,” you blinked, looking up at him through those impossibly pretty eyes.

his mind went blank. completely, utterly blank. then, somehow, words tumbled out. “you… like fishes?” he sounded as stunned as he felt, like his mouth was moving before his brain could catch up.

you stared at him, and he could feel his pulse racing, each beat echoing in his chest. then, you nodded, a small smile forming on your lips.

“i have some,” you said softly, your voice delicate, almost shy.

leehan’s heart did a weird little flip. “some?”

you hesitated, closing the book halfway but keeping your fingers in place. “i have six. a small tank in my apartment.”

leehan’s eyes widened, and before he could stop himself, he sat down on the other end of the couch. he needed to be closer, needed to hear more.

“what kind?”

his voice was soft, almost reverent, like he was asking about something sacred. because to him, it was. you were.

you shifted, and leehan felt the slight dip of the couch, felt the warmth of your presence. “a mix… two bettas, a couple of neon tetras, and some corydoras.”

he let out a breath, a sound that was almost a laugh, his heart feeling light in a way he didn’t know it could. “you really know your fish.”

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “i just think they’re interesting.”

god, he wanted to bottle that smile and keep it forever.

“you have fish, too?”

leehan leaned back just enough to look at you fully, his eyes taking in every detail. “yeah… a planted tank. mostly rasboras and shrimp.”

your eyes sparkled with curiosity. “how do you keep shrimp alive? mine never last longer than a few weeks.”

he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “it’s all about the water parameters. i can show you sometime if you want.”

the words were out before he could think, hanging in the air between you. he held his breath, waiting, hoping.

your eyes softened, your lips curving into that gentle smile again. “i’d like that.”

leehan felt his heart swell, warmth spreading through his chest. he could’ve floated right off that couch.

and then, as if some invisible barrier had shattered, the conversation flowed. effortlessly, beautifully.

you talked about fish, about aquariums, about water conditions and tank setups. your voice was like music, your laughter light and airy, filling every corner of his heart.

he was completely, utterly captivated.

leehan couldn’t believe how easy it was, how natural it felt. he had never talked this much before, never felt this comfortable. but with you, words just came.

he was falling. hard. and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

not that he wanted to.

---

“hey, are you listening?” you snapped him back to reality. stopping him from literally reliving the past mid-conversation.

he stared at you, and blinked, heat rushing to his cheeks. had he been staring? he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “y-yeah, of course. i still think the joel and clementine deserved a second or third chance...”

 you have been talking about movies for the past hours and it's just so that you got to talking about eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.

 you laughed, and the sound was so soft, so genuine, that it made his heart skip. “we moved past that like five minutes ago.”

 “oh,” he mumbled, feeling utterly stupid. “right… yeah, i knew that.” you shook your head, amused.

“you’re kind of weird, you know that?”

“yeah,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck, a sheepish smile forming. “i get that a lot.” he expected you to laugh again, to make another teasing remark, but instead, your expression softened. 

“it’s… kind of cute.”

leehan’s heart stopped.

did you just call him cute?

he replayed the words in his head, over and over, trying to convince himself he hadn’t imagined it. the way you looked at him, eyes warm and gentle, the smallest smile on your lips—he was sure he was dreaming.

“w-what?” he stammered, his voice embarrassingly high-pitched. he cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. “i mean… really?”

you shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but the slight pink on your cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. “yeah, in a weird, clueless kind of way.”

“oh.” his heart was racing, pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. “well… thanks, i guess?”

you smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through clouds, warm and dazzling. “you’re welcome.”

leehan swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of the tiny space between you on the couch. he could feel the warmth radiating from you, could smell the faint scent of your perfume. it was intoxicating.

“so… um,” he started, desperately searching for a topic to break the tension that had settled between you, but his mind was blank. “you, uh… you never told me who your favorite character was.”

you looked at him, surprised. “from eternal sunshine?”

he nodded, grateful his voice didn’t crack. “yeah. you said you liked the movie, but you never said why.”

you tilted your head, your eyes drifting to the ceiling as you thought. “i think… i think it’s joel. he’s awkward and complicated, and he overthinks everything. but he feels everything so deeply, even when he tries not to.”

leehan’s breath caught. it was like you were describing him.

he wanted to say something, to tell you how much he understood, how he also overthought everything, how he was feeling everything so intensely right now it almost hurt. but the words wouldn’t come.

“what about you?” you asked, your voice gentle. “who’s your favorite?”

he looked at you, his chest tightening. “joel,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. “definitely joel.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the air was thick with something unspoken, something electric. leehan could feel his heart racing, his palms growing sweaty.

then you looked away, breaking the spell. “yeah… he’s great.”

leehan swallowed, realizing he had been holding his breath. he let it out slowly, trying to calm the storm inside him.

you leaned back against the couch, eyes drifting to the book he let you borrow, resting on your lap. “you really know a lot about fish,” you murmured, your fingers tracing the spine absentmindedly. “i never would’ve guessed.”

leehan smiled, his heart fluttering at the way you said it, like you were genuinely curious. “yeah… it was kind of my whole life growing up. i used to spend hours reading about them, watching documentaries… i even had this imaginary aquarium business when i was a kid.”

you laughed, the sound bright and warm, and leehan felt his chest tighten. “really?”

he nodded, his cheeks flushing. “yeah… i’d make these little paper tanks and pretend to sell them to my stuffed animals.”

you laughed even harder, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “that’s… that’s adorable.”

adorable.

his heart skipped. he wanted to hear you say it again, wanted to make you laugh like that a thousand more times.

he looked away, his face burning. “yeah, well… i was a weird kid.”

“i think that’s sweet,” you said softly, your voice gentle. “you were passionate, even then.”

leehan’s heart thudded in his chest. how were you doing this to him? how were you turning his most embarrassing childhood stories into something beautiful?

“i… i guess so,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

you smiled, your eyes lingering on him a moment longer before you looked down at the book. “you know, i’ve had this book for years, but i never really understood half of what’s in here. maybe… maybe you could teach me sometime?”

leehan’s eyes widened, his heart leaping. “r-really? i mean, yeah! yeah, i’d love to.”

“cool,” you said, your smile soft, almost shy. “i’d like that.”

leehan felt his heart swell, warmth flooding his chest. he wanted to memorize this moment, to etch every detail into his mind. the way your hair fell softly over your shoulder, the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him, the way you said you wanted to spend more time with him.

he fell. hard. he fell so bad he swore that you could hear his heart beating maniacally because of you.

---

it was a saturday morning, lazy morning for the whole broadcasting club, and you? you have other plans to spend this lazy saturday.

you found him in the broadcasting room, hunched over the soundboard with his brows furrowed, headphones around his neck. his fingers moved expertly over the controls, adjusting levels with a focused determination that made your heart skip.

you hesitated at the door, gripping the edges of your notebook, your palms clammy. asking him to watch a documentary shouldn’t be this hard, right? it was just… a documentary. about fishes. something you figured he’d like. nothing weird about that.

so why were your hands shaking?

“you gonna stand there all day?”

you jumped, heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked up to see taesan leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a lazy grin on his lips. his eyes sparkled with mischief, like he knew exactly why you were hesitating.

“i-i was just…” you stammered, struggling to come up with an excuse, but taesan only raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“leehan’s in there, you know.” he jerked his head towards the room. “and he’s been staring at that soundboard for the past hour. pretty sure he could use a distraction.”

your heart fluttered at the thought, and before you could second-guess yourself, you took a deep breath and walked inside.

leehan looked up at the sound of the door, his eyes widening slightly when he saw you. “oh… hey.”

“h-hi.” you cursed yourself for stuttering. get it together. “i… um… i wanted to ask you something.”

his eyebrows lifted, curiosity flashing in his eyes. “yeah?”

you opened your mouth, the words on the tip of your tongue, but they refused to come out. your mind went blank, and all you could do was stand there, staring at him like an idiot.

leehan shifted, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks. “is… is something wrong?”

“no! no, nothing’s wrong,” you blurted, heat flooding your face. “i just… um…” you looked down, your fingers twisting nervously. “i found this documentary. about fishes. and… and i thought… maybe… you’d want to watch it… with me?”

there. you did it. you actually did it.

the silence that followed was deafening. you forced yourself to look up, panic bubbling in your chest when you saw the way his eyes widened, his lips parted in shock.

oh god. this was a mistake. this was a huge mistake. you shouldn’t have asked. you should’ve just watched it by yourself—

“i-i mean, you don’t have to,” you rushed to add, waving your hands frantically. “it’s totally fine if you’re busy or not interested or—”

“no!” his voice came out louder than intended, his eyes widening in horror at his own outburst. he cleared his throat, his shoulders hunching as he looked down, his fingers fidgeting. “i… i mean… i’d like to. watch it. with you. i… i’d like that a lot.”

your heart skipped, hope flaring in your chest. “really?”

he looked up, his eyes softening as he nodded. “yeah. it sounds… fun.”

a smile spread across your lips before you could stop it, relief washing over you. “o-okay. great. um… during break time, then?”

“yeah.” his lips curved into a small, shy smile, his fingers fiddling with the headphone cord. “during break.”

you nodded, your heart pounding. “okay. cool. um… see you then.”

“y-yeah.” his eyes lingered on you as you turned to leave, and you swore you could feel his gaze on your back long after you walked out.

the moment you were out of sight, you leaned against the wall, your knees weak. did that… did that just happen? did he really say yes?

“well, that was cute.”

you jumped, whipping around to see jaehyun leaning against the lockers, arms crossed and an infuriatingly smug grin on his face.

taesan stood next to him, his own smirk firmly in place. “didn’t know watching fish could be so romantic,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

your face burned. “shut up,” you muttered, hugging your notebook to your chest as you tried to walk past them, but they blocked your path, their grins widening.

“honestly, it was painful to watch,” jaehyun drawled, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “i almost went in there myself just to ask him for you.”

“good thing you didn’t,” taesan added, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “i was enjoying the show.”

you glared at them, but they only laughed, clearly amused by your embarrassment. “you guys are the worst.”

“maybe,” taesan admitted, shrugging, “but at least we’re not the ones hopelessly crushing on leehan.”

your jaw dropped, heat rushing to your face. “i-i’m not—”

“sure, you’re not,” jaehyun said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “and leehan totally wasn’t staring at you like a lovesick puppy the entire time you were in there.”

you froze, your heart lurching. “h-he was…?”

jaehyun’s grin widened. “yep. absolutely whipped.”

taesan chuckled, crossing his arms. “you two are so obvious, it’s painful.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but no words came out. because deep down, a part of you hoped they were right.

---

the room was quiet, save for the hum of the old tv and the soft narration of the documentary. the dim light from the screen cast a gentle glow on your face, illuminating the spark of excitement in your eyes.

leehan couldn’t look away. he was supposed to be watching the documentary—supposed to be fascinated by the vibrant corals and the graceful dance of the fishes—but all he could see was you.

you leaned forward, eyes wide with wonder as the camera followed a school of angelfish gliding through the water. “look at that,” you whispered, your voice tinged with awe. “they’re so beautiful.”

leehan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “yeah… beautiful.”

he wasn’t talking about the fish.

your shoulder brushed against his as you shifted closer, and his breath hitched. the contact was barely there, just the slightest touch, but it sent electricity down his spine. he fought the urge to lean in, to close the distance between you, to feel your warmth against him.

his fingers twitched, ghosting over yours. he wondered what would happen if he took your hand, if he dared to intertwine his fingers with yours. would you pull away? would you look at him with that soft, curious smile? would you let him hold on, just for a little while?

his heart raced at the thought, his chest tightening painfully.

he didn’t dare.

“you’re quiet today,” you murmured, turning to look at him. your face was so close, your eyes searching his. “are you… are you okay?”

leehan blinked, realizing he had been staring. heat rushed to his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, eyes glued to the screen. “y-yeah. just… just focused on the documentary.”

you tilted your head, studying him. “you must really like this, huh?”

“yeah,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. “i… i like watching it with you.”

the words slipped out before he could stop them. his eyes widened, his heart freezing in his chest. he dared a glance at you, panicking when he saw the way your eyes widened.

but then, slowly, a smile spread across your lips. “me too,” you whispered, your voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it. “i like watching this with you, too.”

his heart skipped, his breath catching in his throat. was this real? were you really looking at him like that, your eyes warm and gentle, your lips curved into that beautiful smile?

he was dreaming. he had to be dreaming.

the documentary continued, the narrator’s voice droning on about coral reefs and marine ecosystems, but leehan couldn’t focus. not when you were this close, not when he could feel your shoulder brushing against his, your warmth seeping into him.

you shifted, your head tilting to rest against his shoulder, your hair brushing his neck. he froze, his entire body going rigid.

you were leaning on him. your head was on his shoulder.

he didn’t dare move. he barely dared to breathe.

he could feel his heart pounding, his pulse racing as he slowly turned his head, eyes wide as he looked down at you. your eyes were still fixed on the screen, a peaceful smile on your lips, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside him.

he wanted to stay like this forever.

“you know,” you murmured, your voice soft, “i think this is my favorite documentary.”

he smiled, his heart swelling with warmth. “yeah… me too.”

he had watched this documentary a hundred times, knew every line by heart, but this was the first time it felt so special. because he was watching it with you.

your fingers twitched, brushing against his. it was barely a touch, just the lightest graze, but it sent his heart spiraling.

he looked down, his breath catching as he watched your fingers, so close to his own. his heart raced, his mind screaming at him to just reach out, to take your hand, to hold on.

his fingers moved, slowly, hesitantly, until they were resting against yours, his pinky brushing against your own.

you didn’t pull away.

leehan’s heart stopped.

your fingers curled, just the slightest bit, brushing against his. it was so subtle, so delicate, but it was enough.

he looked at you, his eyes wide, his heart in his throat. you didn’t look at him, your gaze still fixed on the screen, but there was a soft smile on your lips, so small he almost missed it.

his heart pounded, his chest tightening painfully. he wanted to say something, to tell you how much this meant to him, how much you meant to him, but the words wouldn’t come.

so he stayed silent, his fingers brushing against yours, his heart racing.

and as the documentary continued, as the narrator’s voice filled the room, leehan knew he was completely, hopelessly, undeniably in love.

and for now, this was enough.

© hancorys, 2025.

[mountaesan]

mend me, love me ; k. leehan 

pairing. bad boy!leehan x nursing student!reader genre. hurt/comfort , pining , fluff , a twinge of angst , set in the 80’s but it’s not rly mentioned and it’s not essential to the plot synopsis. leehan was your first ever patient as well as your most frequent, treating him has always been second nature for you. so when he shows up at your window once again, unannounced, bruised and bleeding, you begin to wish that you could see him in different circumstances word count. 4.1k warnings. kissing , mentions of blood / fighting , one mention of a knife , leehan is injured , probably unrealistic and unsafe medical practices  playlist. fallingforyou by the 1975 , meet me in the hallway by harry styles , the night we met by lord huron , like real people do by hozier notes. these two are so precious to me . not proofread

The rain came down in a steady rhythm, a soft patter against the windowpane, threading through the quiet of your room like a soft lullaby. It’s the perfect Friday night. One of those rare evenings where everything feels settled, where there was no unfinished work tugging at the edges of your mind and no looming responsibilities weighing down your shoulders.

The state of your room was pristine, the scent of freshly laundered sheets mingling in the air with the faint herbal aroma of your tea, the steam still curling in the air from where you placed it on your nightstand. The air was cool from the rain, but the warmth of your post-shower skin seeped into the plush comfort of your blankets. It cocooned you in a delicious contrast of warmth and chill.

The dim glow of your desk lamp flickered slightly, its light casting long, slanted shadows across the room. It danced over the neatly stacked textbooks and scattered notes that—for once—weren’t demanding your attention.

With a deep breath, you nestled deeper into the comfort of your mattress, pulling the covers just a little higher as you opened your well-worn copy of Emma in your hands. The spine creaked with familiarity, the pages soft beneath your fingertips, the edges slightly frayed from years of love. You traced your thumb along the words, sinking in the world Austen so carefully crafted; where meddling and misunderstandings unfold within the genteel drawing rooms of Highbury.

The rain continued its ceaseless drumming, a quiet accompaniment to the turning of each page. The weight of the week melted away, dissolving into the hush of the storm and the safety of solitude. 

You’re glad to escape the world of responsibility and work; at least for a little while. In this moment, you were free: free to lose yourself in the clever and playful words of Jane Austen, warmed by your tea as you wrapped yourself in the comforting embrace of the quiet, rainy night.

The world outside is distant, softened by the misty glow of streetlights and the gentle patter of raindrops against your window. The steady rhythm soothed  you, lulling you deeper into—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Faint at first, barely enough to steal your attention from the pages between your hands. A soft, rhythmic tapping. Your brows furrowed, eyes flicking up from the curling pages of your beloved novel, confusion and caution pricked at your skin.

For a moment, you wondered if it’s just a loose branch from the storm, swaying against the glass. But then, the sound came again, more deliberate this time.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Tap. Tap.

TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP—

And then—you saw it.

A face.

Pale against the rain-streaked window, dark eyes peering through the glass and strands of wet hair clinging to sharp cheekbones. 

Your breath caught in your throat, a strangled sound escaping before you could stop it. For a long moment, you simply stared, heart hammering against your ribs as you struggled to make sense of what you were seeing. 

The golden glow of your desk lamp flickered against the raindrops of your windowpane, catching on the sharp planes of his face—pale from the cold, his usual smirk replaced with a tight grimace. His fingers flexed and strained against the wet wood of the sill, and another gust of wind made the familiar looking boy—or ghost—sway precariously. 

“What the—” you spluttered. Finally snapping out of your daze, you scrambled out of bed.  You practically threw the book aside as you rushed to the window, fumbling with the latch. When you shoved it open, for a split second, you simply stood there, the wind howling through the open window as rain splattered against your cheeks and the cold air bit at your skin.

The sight before you was utterly absurd—Kim Leehan, soaked to the bone, clinging to your fourth-floor window for dear life. 

“Are you out of your mind? This is the fourth floor! How did you even—”

“A guy…” Leehan grimaced, tightening his grip on the slippery windowsill as his fingers began to slip. “Never reveals his secrets.” 

He was visibly struggling, his knuckles turning white as he fought to keep himself from plummeting to his death—or at least an expensive visit to the hospital. Your stomach twisted when you glanced down, seeing nothing but the slick, empty space between him and the ground below. His dark eyes, sharp as ever despite the rain dripping into them, flickered up to meet yours.

“Nice to see you too,” he drawled, though the slight shake in his voice betrayed him. “I’d love to catch up, really, but I think hypothermia is knocking on my door—along with the whole falling to my death thing, so—”

“Okay, okay, shut up,” you grumbled, planting your feet as you hauled him in with as much strength as you can muster. He was heavier than you remember—lean but packed with muscle—and the rain didn’t make it any easier (can you tell that he’s done this a few times). Leehan groaned as his torso tipped over the edge, crashing into you as you staggered back onto your heels.

With a final, graceless heave, he tumbled in, landing in an unceremonious heap on your floor and rainwater seeped into your freshly vacuumed rug. A long silence stretched between you two, save for the steady drip, drip, drip of water pooling onto your pristine hardwood floor. You stared at him, breath still uneven from the exertion. He looked up at you through a mess of wet hair, breathing just as heavily, rainwater glistening along his jaw.

“What the hell, Leehan?” you finally said, hands still trembling slightly from the adrenaline. “Why are you scaling buildings like some kind of delinquent Spider-Man?”

Leehan groaned, lifting his arm weakly before letting it drop back onto the floor. “One,” he started, voice hoarse, “never insult the best superhero like that ever again.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, he sluggishly sat up and peeled his drenched hoodie over his head. It takes a second for your to register what you’re seeing—but then, your stomach twists.

A deep, angry gash cuts across his torso, fresh and bleeding.

“And two,” he finally finishes, lips quirking into a weak, humorless smile as he gestured toward the wound.

Your frustration immediately morphed into something heavier, something sharper. “Leehan,” you breathed, crouching down beside him, “you need stitches.” 

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but you could see the exhaustion etched in the lines of his face, the slight tremor of his fingers as he pressed them into his side. “That’s why I’m here, doc.”

You exhaled through your nose as you rubbed at your temples. You should be used to this by now—Leehan showing up in the dead of night, bleeding and bruised, flashing that same reckless smile like it’s all just a joke. But it never gets easier. Not when it’s him.

“Bathroom,” you said with a firm voice. “Dry off, you know where the towels are. I’ll grab the suture kit.”

He nods, pushing himself to his feet with a wince. As he made his way to the bathroom, you pulled open a drawer to retrieve the spare clothes he’d left behind last time. (Which, coincidentally, had been because of the same exact reason.)

By the time Leehan emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel draped around his neck, you were already setting up the supplies at your desk. But the moment your eyes landed on him, you froze.

Bruises scattered across his arms and collarbone, blooming in shades of purple and blue. A fresh cut lingered just below his cheekbone and his bottom lip had been bloodied up, a stark contrast against his pale skin.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, the words sitting heavy on your tongue. You wanted to scold him. You wanted to demand why he always did this; why he never thought about himself.

But instead, you gestured toward your bed and muttered, “Lie down.”

He obeyed, settled back against the mattress and lifted his shirt without a complaint. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself, ignoring the tightness in your chest as you pressed a sterile cotton pad against the wound. His skin was warm beneath your fingers.

Leehan didn’t flinch. He never does. 

Instead, he watched you, head tilted against your pillow and dark eyes following every movement of your hands with a quiet sort of intensity. The kind that made your throat dry, the kind that made you wish you weren’t so used to this—patching him up and stitching him back together in the dim glow of your desk lamp while the rain sang against the window panes.

A tired cycle. A routine written into your friendship.

The room was quiet, save for the rain drumming against the window. You worked swiftly and precisely, and your hands moved with the familiarity of routine. Leehan didn’t flinch, doesn’t even so much as wince. He just stared at the ceiling, fingers tapping idly against his ribs. 

Finally, you broke the silence. “What was it this time?”

He exhaled slowly, his hand pausing mid-tap. “Just a small scuffle,” he muttered. “Some guys were messing with Woonhak. Thought it’d be fun to pick on him.”

Your brows furrowed. “So you decided to take them all by yourself?”

“It wasn’t like that.” He shook his head, eyes trained back on the ceiling as his jaw tightened. “I just threw a few punches to scare them off. But then someone pulled a knife, and then there were sirens, and, well…” He let out a breathy, humorless laugh. 

You pursed your lips as you knotted the last stitch a little too firmly. He hissed but didn’t complain.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, voice quieter this time.

“Yeah,” he muttered, head tilting slightly to look at you again. His lips twitched into something almost fond. “But that’s why I always come to you. Steadiest hands in all of Koz Uni’s nursing program.”

You didn’t look at him, didn’t let him see the way your expression wavered. Instead, you pressed a final piece of gauze over the wound, taping it down with the care of someone who wished they never had to do this in the first place.

“Yeah, well,” you murmured, smoothing down the bandage, “maybe next time, use that reckless head of yours for something other than getting it bashed in.”

Leehan hummed, the corner of his lips tugging up despite the exhaustion weighing heavy in his eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead, you pressed the heel of your palm into his forehead—not pushing, gently—until he groaned and swatted your hand away, muttering a curse under his breath. 

With a small smile, you leaned back, letting out a slow exhale. No matter how many times you gave Leehan stitches, you were always nervous like it was your first time. “You should rest,” you said. “You lost a lot of blood.”

After giving the typical ‘seek professional medical help in the morning’ lecture, you moved on to the rest of his minor injuries.

Your fingers moved with careful precision, the cotton ball, squeezed tightly between the tweezers in your grasp, was soaked in antiseptic as you dabbed gently at the wounds on Leehan’s arms. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, sharp and sterile, as it mingled with the lingering traces of rain and something distinctly him.

Leehan didn’t make a sound as you worked, though you could feel his eyes on you—dark, steady, and unwavering. The weight of his gaze pressed into you, searing like embers against your skin, but you refused to meet it. 

You focused on the task at hand instead, the rhythmic motion of cleaning, dabbing, and wrapping. Anything to ignore the way your pulse quickened with each passing second.

But it’s hard to ignore him when he’s so close.

The space between you was barely a breath. The warmth of his body radiated through the air, despite the damp chill that still clung to his skin from the rain. His hair was a mess, black strands falling over his forehead in uneven waves, and there was something disarmingly soft about him like this. Battered and bruised and yet, undeniably alive, existing in your space as if he belonged there.

And maybe he did.

You swallowed down the thought and willed yourself to focus. 

Your hands were steady as you finished treating the cuts on his collarbones, brushing over the bruises blooming across his skin with careful fingers. But when you reached his face, your confidence faltered.

The cut along his cheekbone was shallow but angry. A thin, jagged line that caught in the dim glow of your desk lamp. And then there was his lip—split and bloodied, the wound stark against the soft curve of his mouth.

You exhaled quietly, steeling yourself once again.

Leehan must’ve sensed your hesitation because he tilted his head slightly, giving you better access to his face. His lips curled into the ghost of a smirk, but his voice was quiet when he murmured, “You’re overthinking again.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, too focused on pressing the cotton ball to the cut on his cheekbone. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. He just watched you, his expression unreadable, eyes dark and glittering beneath the low light.

It’s unbearable.

The room felt smaller, the silence felt heavier. The storm outside softened into a quiet drizzle, but the air between you crackled with something you couldn’t quite name. Something warm and unspoken, coiling between the spaces where your hands nearly touched, where your breath nearly mingled with his own. 

Finally, you moved to his lip, hesitant as your fingers brushed against his chin, tilting his face ever so slightly toward you. His lips parted just the tiniest bit, his breath warm against your wrist as you dabbed at the wound, trying your best not to linger.

Your thumb grazed his bottom lip—barely there, light as air.

Leehan inhaled sharply.

Your stomach flipped, heart stammering violently against your ribs.

You didn’t dare to look at him. You couldn’t.

Instead, you cleared your throat, voice barely above a whisper as you muttered, “Almost done.”

Leehan didn’t reply. But when you finally, finally gathered enough courage to glance up at him, his gaze was already waiting for you. And in it, you saw everything.

The weight of every unsaid word. The years of late-night visits, quiet comforts, and silent understandings. The way he looked at you now, like you were something fragile and precious—something he had spent too long pretending he didn’t want to hold on to.

Your breath was caught in your throat.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

And then—

“There,” you whispered, pulling back, severing the moment before it could unravel completely. “All done.”

Leehan watched you for a second longer, gaze lingering and unreadable. Then, his lips twitched—barely a smirk, more like an exhale of something unspoken.

“Thanks, doc,” he murmured. 

And just like that, the tension splintered.

But the weight of his gaze still lingered—on your skin, in your breath, in the quiet thrum of your heart against your ribs. 

And you don’t think it’ll ever leave.

Leehan stayed the night, like he always does. It was an unspoken tradition, a ritual that neither of you ever acknowledged out loud but followed without question. After every fight, every wound you stitched up, he stayed—like your dorm was the only place he knew to go.

The bed was too small for the both of you, but neither of you made a move to change it. You laid next to each other, bodies barely touching. Only the occasional brush of an arm, a shift of weight, a shared breath in the darkness. The air was thick with the scent of rain and the sharp sterility of antiseptic still lingering faintly between you.

The world outside was still now. The storm had passed, leaving only the rhythmic dripping of water from the eaves, the occasional rustling of tree branches against your window. Moonlight spilled in through the glass, casting fractured shadows across the ceiling, across the sheets, across him.

Leehan was lying on his side, turned toward you, and you should tell him to be careful. You should remind him that his stitches need time to set, that his body needs rest, that lying like this is only going to make it worse. But the words don’t come.

Because he’s watching you.

And you’re watching him.

His face was half-lit, half-hidden in the dim glow of the moon, his dark eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. You trace over the curve of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw, the way his damp hair clings stubbornly to his forehead. Your gaze caught on his lips—split and swollen, still stained with the faintest trace of blood.

Before you even realized what you were doing, your hand moved on its own.

Your palm found the coolness of his cheek, thumb grazing over the cut on his lip with barely-there pressure. The moment your skin met his, Leehan exhaled softly, his eyes fluttering shut like he was melting beneath your touch. His body relaxed, tension unwinding in slow, steady waves, as if he’d been waiting for this.

You whispered into the dark, "I wish you didn’t keep coming to me like this."

Your voice barely carries between you, but Leehan hears it. You know he does, because his fingers twitched slightly against the sheets, because his breath caught just enough for you to notice.

After a beat, you added, "You know it breaks my heart… right?"

Leehan’s eyes opened again, slow and heavy-lidded, the shadows deepening in their depths. His gaze was unreadable, something between sorrow and something else— raw and tender. He lifted his hand, covering yours where it rested against his cheek, his fingers curling gently around yours.

"… I know," he murmured. "I’m sorry."

The weight of those words settled between you. There was something unspoken in the silence that followed, something fragile and uncertain yet wholly understood.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

The only sound in the room was the soft, rhythmic ticking of the clock on your wall, the occasional drip of rainwater outside. The world felt impossibly small, folding in on itself until it was just the two of you, here, now.

Summoning every ounce of courage left in you, you whispered, "Please don’t make me worry like this."

Leehan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted, fingers tightening ever so slightly around your own before he slowly brought your hand to his lips.

Your breath stuttered.

His lips—soft despite the split, warm despite the cold—pressed gently against your knuckles, lingering for just a moment too long.

Your heart ached.

"I always knew you were going to be a nurse," he murmured, voice low, words melting into the space between you. 

Your breath stilled for a moment. “What?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“I could tell back in high school,” he continued, his fingers further interlacing with yours. “Every time I got into a fight, you were always the one patching me up. Cleaning my cuts, scolding me and clucking over me like an old mother hen. You liked making people feel better.”

You swallowed as something warm bloomed in your chest. “I liked making sure you didn’t bleed out on the pavement,” you muttered.

You shook your head, staring at the faint glow of the streetlights pooling against your ceiling. You remembered those days vividly—him showing up at the doorstep of your childhood home with bruised knuckles and split lips; you pressing antiseptic pads to his wounds in an empty janitor’s closet while you muttered under your breath about his recklessness.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you had always been like this—drawn to fixing things, to soothing the ache in others, even when it hurt you in turn.

“You were always my favorite patient,” you admitted, turning your head to look at him again. He still had your hand pressed against his lips.

He exhaled slowly, and when he met your gaze, there was something lingering in his eyes. Something that made your stomach twist and your heart clench.

“Yeah,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”

Another kiss—this time to the back of your hand, his breath featherlight against your skin.

Leehan lingered there, lips against your skin, like he was afraid to move, like this was something fragile that could shatter if he so much as breathed too hard. His grip on your hand tightened just slightly, as if grounding himself, and for the first time, you saw it—really saw it.

The way his eyes softened when they met yours. The way he always came to you, no matter how bruised and battered, no matter the hour or distance. The way he let himself melt under your touch, let himself be taken care of in a way you were sure he didn’t let anyone else.

He loved you.

And maybe—no, definitely—you had always loved him, too.

You weren’t sure who moved first, if it was you or him, but suddenly the space between you vanished. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and slow, mingling with yours in the stillness of the room. Your noses brushed, the barest hint of touch, but neither of you pulled away. 

You let your fingers slip from his just enough to trail along his wrist, feeling the steady beat of his pulse beneath your touch. Your hand traveled higher, skimming up his arm, over the curve of his shoulder, before settling against the side of his neck. He let you. He always let you.

Leehan swallowed, the movement shifting beneath your palm. His lips parted, but no words came. You could see it—the hesitation, the fear of breaking whatever fragile thing existed between you. 

“If I tell you something,” he whispered, voice unsteady, “will you promise not to run?”

Your throat felt tight. “Leehan…”

“Promise me.”

Your thumb brushed against the corner of his jaw, just barely tracing the line of his throat. “I promise.”

A shaky exhale. Then—

“I think I’ve loved you since the first time you pulled me into that abandoned janitor’s closet and shoved a crumpled up band-aid into my hands. ” He let out a quiet, breathy laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh. “Maybe even before that.”

Your chest ached.

Maybe it was the way he said it—like it had been sitting inside him for years, waiting, festering, like he’d carried this love in his bloodied knuckles and broken skin, in every glance and in every touch that lingered just a second too long.

Or maybe it was the way you had always felt it, too.

Leehan swallowed, his lips parting like he wanted to say something else, but you beat him to it.

“I love you.”

It slipped out, simple and certain, like breathing, like a truth you had always known but never dared to say.

His entire body went still.

And then—slowly, cautiously, like he was afraid you might disappear—he let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, his nose nudging yours. His fingers found your waist beneath the blankets, tentative, uncertain. His touch was barely there, but it burned all the same.

You felt, more than saw, the way his eyes softened.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

You smiled, your heart stammering in your chest.

“I love you.”

Leehan exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead harder against yours like he was trying to memorize the shape of you, the warmth of this moment. His hands—scarred and calloused, always rough, always bruised—cupped your face, thumbs brushing tenderly over your cheekbones.

“God,” he murmured, voice thick. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

And then, with all the gentleness in the world, he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent—it was slow, careful, full of years of quiet longing and late-night patch-ups, of stolen glances and words left unsaid. He kissed you like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers, like you were something sacred, something he had no right to hold but was holding anyway.

When he pulled away, his lips were trembling against yours.

“You break my heart too, you know,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Then let me be the one to mend yours,” you whispered back. “Just like I’ve mended your wounds since we were sixteen. And I promise, I always will.”

A breath.

A soft, breathless chuckle.

And then—Leehan’s lips found yours again, sealing the promise between you.

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[hancorys]

5:06 — dance with me

genre: fLUFF, established relationship, leehan best boy !! pairing: bf!leehan x afab!reader wc: 793 warning: tooth rotting fluff, jk. none, js two love birds listen: dance with me — beabadoobee

the morning light barely filters through the curtains, but leehan is already awake. the soft rustle of his movements stirs the quiet of the room, but he’s careful not to wake you. you don’t notice the faint hum of the kettle boiling in the kitchen or the clink of a spoon against ceramic as he prepares your coffee. just the way you like it—no sugar, just enough milk to make it creamy. he’s memorized it, down to the precise shade of beige it turns when it’s perfect.

by the time the clock strikes six, he’s at your bedside, his voice soft and warm as he sings your name into the morning. “time to wake up, love,” he whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. his voice, his presence—it’s the kind of comfort that makes waking up bearable, even on the hardest days.

you sit up groggily, and there he is, coffee in hand, a smile on his face that makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

leehan has a way of making the world feel less heavy.

—

on days when college assignments pile up, leaving you drained and irritable, he’s there. he doesn’t say much; he doesn’t need to. instead, he sits beside you, pulling your legs onto his lap, his hands warm and steady as they massage the tension from your calves. his touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s telling you with his hands what words cannot fully convey: i’m here. i love you.

he watches you with quiet admiration, the kind that makes your heart swell, and when your head droops onto his shoulder from exhaustion, he presses a kiss to your temple. “take a break,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

leehan knows you like no one else does.

he’s the kind of person who notices the little things—like how you always forget to bring a towel to the gym or how you need tissues when you get too sweaty on hot days. so, he carries an extra towel in his bag and a pack of tissues in his pocket, just for you. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it; he simply hands them to you when you need them, his eyes crinkling in that way they do when he smiles.

“see? i’ve got you covered,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh, grateful beyond words for his thoughtfulness.

—

sundays with leehan are your favorite.

the two of you fall into an easy rhythm—he takes care of the laundry while you hunch over your desk, finishing assignments. he hums softly to himself as he folds the clothes, glancing at you every so often to make sure you’re not overworking yourself.

when evening falls, you switch roles. he lays on the couch, his head resting in your lap, as your hands knead the tension from his shoulders. “you work too hard,” you tease, earning a chuckle from him.

“and you don’t?” he counters, looking up at you with those warm, brown eyes that make your heart skip a beat.

later, you curl up together, watching your favorite tv show, his arm draped over your shoulders. it’s simple, but it’s everything.

leehan has a knack for turning ordinary moments into magic.

like the time you decided to try a new recipe from a cookbook he’d bought for you on a whim. the kitchen was a disaster—flour dusted the counters, sauce splattered onto the stove, and yet, neither of you cared.

“dance with me,” he said suddenly, grabbing your hand as your favorite song played softly in the background.

you laughed, your cheeks warm, but you didn’t resist. he spun you around the kitchen, his hands steady on your waist as he guided you. the two of you moved clumsily, tripping over each other’s feet and laughing until your sides hurt.

in that moment, the mess didn’t matter. what mattered was the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world that made sense.

—

at night, when the world quiets down, leehan’s love shines the brightest.

you fall asleep in his arms, your breathing even and peaceful. he watches you for a moment, brushing his lips against your forehead.

“i love you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if the words are meant only for you and the night.

he kisses your temple, then your cheek, before finally settling in beside you. his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, and even in your sleep, you lean into him, as if you know he’s there.

leehan smiles, content, as the two of you drift into the kind of peace that only comes from knowing you’re truly, deeply loved.

© hancorys, 2025.

[chewnotchoke]

for you to be here, again.

ೃ࿐ boynextdoor as exes who cannot get over you

warnings: boynextdoor x reader, angst, break up, pining, bonedo crying bcs i have thing for crying boys lmao wc: 1.8k

sungho 

𓍯 he isn’t the annoying, embarrassing ex who can’t take a hint. no, sungho is far from that. his inability to move on is quiet, almost invisible. it’s in the small things you’d never notice unless you looked closely enough.  

𓍯 whenever he misses you, he doesn’t flood your inbox with desperate texts or try to insert himself back into your life. instead, he scrolls through your old messages, reading each line as if searching for something he missed, something that might tell him how it all fell apart. on nights when the ache in his chest feels unbearable, he logs into a spam account just to check your social media. he studies your posts in silence, wondering if the smile in your photos is real or just for show.  

𓍯 after the breakup, he developed a habit of overanalyzing everything. he reads and rereads your last messages, dissecting every word, every punctuation mark. he clicks on the names of people who like your posts and studies the profiles of those you’ve recently followed, crafting stories in his head that only fuel his misery.  

𓍯 and then there was that evening—when the sun was setting and the orange light softened everything but the weight of the moment. you’d agreed to meet him for closure, ready to draw the final line between you both. you thought it would be simple, clean. a goodbye. but when it came time to leave, he just couldn’t let go of your hand.  

𓍯 standing by the side of the street, his grip tightened as though letting go would mean losing the last piece of you forever. his lips quivered as he tried to keep it together, but the tears betrayed him, spilling down his cheeks before he could even form the words. his voice was low, trembling, and desperate. “i’ll be better…hm?” his swollen eyes searched for yours, his vulnerability raw and heartbreaking.  

𓍯 in that moment, it was as if he’d fall to his knees right there on the pavement if it meant convincing you to stay. he didn’t care who might be watching or how foolish he might look. his hand stayed firm around yours, a silent plea that screamed louder than any words he could manage. he was willing to beg, to promise, to do anything—if only you’d give him one more chance. 

riwoo

𓍯 in his latest post, he wore a bracelet you both shared during better days, casually wrapped around his wrist. he doesn’t mention it, but he hopes you’ll notice. it’s his silent way of saying he still thinks about you, even now, after everything fell apart.

𓍯 he blames himself for losing you, overanalyzing every fight, every word left unsaid. he tells himself it’s because he wasn’t enough or didn’t try hard enough. in his mind, if he had just loved you better or held on tighter, maybe he wouldn’t have lost you.

𓍯 your relationship with riwoo was a cycle of hope and heartbreak, on and off, again and again. each time you tried to fix it, the cracks seemed to deepen, but he refused to let go. he gave everything to keep you, even when it felt like the universe was against you both. and yet, despite his desperate efforts, he still lost you in the end, even though it was never truly his fault.

𓍯 riwoo is the type to drunk text you, and everyone knows it. his friends would drag him out for a karaoke night at the ktv, hoping to take his mind off you. but instead of grabbing the mic and singing along, he’d sit in the corner, nursing a drink as his friends’ voices echo through the room. one shot turns into two, then three, until the alcohol numbs his senses—but not his thoughts.

𓍯 eventually, he’d slip outside under the guise of needing fresh air. his friends would find him leaning against a wall, his phone screen glowing in the dark as he carefully types out a message for you.

𓍯  his words are raw, aching with vulnerability: "how are you so good at pretending i never meant anything to you, while i’m here thinking about you all day even at times when i should be happy? did you even love me? do you ever think of me too? why does it feel like this doesn’t kill you the way it’s killing me?”

jaehyun

𓍯 you have no idea what your absence does to jaehyun. one time when jaehyun couldn't stop himself from crossing your boundaries as exes, he dialed your number and called you. when he didn't expect you to answer, you could hear how his voice wavers when he talks to you, how it almost feels like he's choking in his own tears, asking you to come back, and telling you how much he's struggling to move on. 

𓍯 “y/n, i can’t do this. please.” jaehyun’s voice cracked, his grip on your hand trembling as he stared at you with eyes that brimmed with desperation. “i don’t want to throw away all the love i have for you. i can’t. i could never give this love to someone else. so please... let me love you again.”  

𓍯 your heart clenched at the raw pain in his voice, but you forced yourself to stay firm. swallowing back the lump in your throat, you reached down to pry his hand off yours, even as it broke both of you further. “jaehyun, you can.” your voice shook, but you kept going, fighting through the ache. “right now, you feel like you can’t because… we just broke up. but trust me, you’ll move past this. you’ll give that love to someone else—someone who deserves it.”  

𓍯 his breath hitched, and he shook his head fiercely, tears streaking down his cheeks. “but they’re not you.” he choked out, the words thick with frustration and heartbreak. “y/n, it’s not the same if it’s not you.”  

𓍯 the weight of his words hung heavy in the air, suffocating. for a moment, you faltered, the pain in his voice slicing through your resolve like a blade. but you knew—no matter how much it hurt—it was over. you had to let go, even if he wasn’t ready to.

taesan 

𓍯 taesan dodges every potential relationship that comes his way, like he’s running from something he can’t bear to face. and maybe he is—because no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much time passes, he can never get over you.  

𓍯 it’s impossible for him to be with someone else without you creeping into his mind, lingering like a ghost in every quiet moment. every laugh he hears feels dull compared to yours. every fleeting touch lacks the warmth he once knew. even though you couldn’t care less that he’s still breathing, you haunt him in ways you’ll never realize.  

𓍯 women approach him, some bold, others subtle, each one trying to capture his attention. but none of them could ever come close to you. he knows it’s unfair, knows he’s holding them to a standard they could never meet because they’re not you. and yet, he lets the comparisons swallow him whole, shutting out every chance at moving on. 

𓍯 late at night, when the weight of it becomes too much to bear, he’ll grab his phone and type out messages that he knows he shouldn’t send. but he does anyway, each word a quiet plea he can’t hold back: “i just feel like… we didn’t even try enough. don’t you think?”

𓍯 even then, he knows the answer. he knows you’ve moved on without looking back. but for taesan, forgetting you feels like forgetting a part of himself

𓍯 taesan might appear composed and nonchalant to the world, but when it comes to you, he’s a storm of emotions he can’t contain. the mere thought of you and the life you could’ve shared leaves him unraveling, tears spilling freely as he lets himself feel every ounce of the ache, no longer holding back what he’s been keeping buried inside.

leehan

𓍯 when you were together, he never failed to share every detail of his day with you—what he ate, the things he saw, even the random thoughts that crossed his mind. but after the breakup, he didn’t know where to put all those thoughts anymore. with no one else to confide in, he started typing them into the notes on his phone, just in case there was ever a chance to talk to you again. in his mind, he held onto the hope that one day, he could sit down with you and tell you about everything you’d missed.

𓍯 but when reality sank in, when he realized that chance might never come, he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. the weight of missing you crushed him in moments like these, and no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he always came back to the same aching longing.

𓍯 of all the members, he’d be the one trapped in the cycle of longing the longest. he wouldn’t open up to others, keeping his feelings bottled up instead. he thought if he could just hold on quietly, it might hurt less, but that only made moving forward harder.

𓍯 for leehan, moving on felt like losing you all over again. so he never rushed the process, knowing deep down that forcing himself to let go would only make the pain worse. he took his time, letting himself grieve at his own pace.

𓍯 he was sentimental to a fault. every little thing that had been yours—the mug you left behind, the hoodie you forgot to take home—still sat where it had always been, as if they’d belonged there all along. he didn’t have the heart to pack them away. they were pieces of you, and even if they hurt to look at, he couldn’t bring himself to let them go.

woonhak

𓍯 woonhak would be the type to keep his distance, even when his heart ached to be near you. no matter how much he missed you, he’d choose to stay in the background, silently watching as you moved forward without him. he convinced himself it was for the best, he didn’t want to disturb the peace you’d found in his absence.

𓍯 every time he thought about reaching out, his fingers would hover over his phone, only to set it down again with a quiet sigh. he couldn’t bring himself to pull you back into the tangled mess of emotions he carried. so instead, he stayed silent, swallowing his longing even when it hurt the most.

𓍯 one thing about woonhak is when he cries, he doesn’t hold back. tears fall freely as if each one carries the weight of everything he’s been holding inside. he doesn’t hesitate to let it out because keeping it in feels unbearable. but reaching out to you? that’s a step he’s too afraid to take.

𓍯  so instead, he turns to his most trusted friends, the ones who know him better than he knows himself sometimes. with shaky breaths and tear-streaked cheeks, he crumbles in their presence. “what the hell did i do wrong?” he chokes out, his voice breaking under the weight of his heartbreak. “where did it all go wrong? all i did was love her.” the words spill from him like a flood, his sobs filling the silence as his older friends wrap him in their quiet understanding.