I’M CRYING 😭 Doyoung just said “don’t go anywhere, you are tied to me, okay?”, and said he will “understand” and think we are “busy and living a good life” if some of us would not be there for him anymore in the future 😭 KIM DOYOUNG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 😭💓
“MEMORY” WILL BE OUT IN 1 MINUTE
Update: NEVER CLICKED SO FAST IM THE 9TH VIEWER???? MEMORY IS OUT
happy birthday to this sexy guy who somehow manages to take up 90% of my phone storage at every concert 🐻 atp I'm convinced my camera is just Haechan-biased
summary: fresh off a messy breakup with your toxic, serial-cheating situationship, you accidentally ended up at a speakeasy run by a hotbartender named Johnny
pairings: hotbartender!Johnny x afab!reader┊genre: fluff, girl’s girl Johnny, situationship/talking stage, sprinkle of comedy┊wc: 1.9k┊cw: bar scenes, implied alcohol consumption (minimal dw, just chill drinking)
You didn’t mean to find the bar.
After work, your plan was simple: cry in your room, let your heart shatter in private, and maybe eat something if you remembered.
You’d been holding it together all day, pretending you weren’t breaking.
It wasn’t like the breakup was official. You weren’t even technically dating him, but exclusive was enough for it to hurt. And this was the third time. The third time he crossed a line.
So instead of going straight home, you started walking.
You didn’t have a destination. You just needed air in a city full of strangers and distractions.
Anything to stop your brain from spiraling.
That’s how you ended up in a neighborhood you didn’t recognize, somewhere between tired and numb. You were just thinking about how thirsty you were when you spotted a vending machine under a flickering streetlamp.
Except when you pressed one of the buttons, the panel clicked.
A low creak vibrated through the metal. You stepped back just in time to see a hidden door slide open. Not a drink.
A bar.
Curiosity got the better of you.
The place was quiet. Cozy. Amber light glowed against dark wood. It felt like somewhere secret, protected.
You scanned the room—barely a handful of people—and were about to sit at a corner table when the bartender turned around.
And wow.
Celebrity-level visuals. Tall, broad shoulders, long fingers drying a glass, hair pushed back like he’d stepped out of a magazine spread. He smiled. Kind, not arrogant, and it almost disarmed you.
“Rough day?” he asked, casual but warm, like he already knew.
You let out a short laugh. “That obvious?”
He tilted his head, grin growing. “Just a little. Don’t worry. You’re not the first to come here looking for a vending machine and end up with… me.”
You raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a threat.”
He laughed, and it was genuine. “I’m Johnny, by the way.”
You told him your name, still slightly unsure of what this place was.
“I didn’t mean to find a bar. Just wanted a drink. A real one. Like water.”
“Congratulations,” he said, already pulling out a glass, “you found something better. Or weirder. Depending on how you look at it.”
You gave a half-smile. “Is it safe to drink something here?”
He leaned in a little, voice dropping into something playful.
“I could make you something gentle. Not too strong. But just enough to make you forget what his name was.”
You blinked. “Pardon?”
Johnny shrugged with a small smile. “Didn’t mean to assume. But… am I wrong?”
You stared at him, hesitating. Then sighed.
“No. You’re not wrong.”
He nodded like he understood. And somehow, you believed he did.
“One drink,” you said. “Surprise me.”
He nodded and turned around, grabbing bottles with easy confidence. Whatever he made, it tasted like summer and something warm. It settled in your chest like a blanket. He watched you take the first sip, clearly amused by your surprise.
“What’s this called?” you asked.
He smirked. “I call it the ‘It’s His Loss’. Works every time.”
You actually laughed. Out loud. It surprised you.
He looked proud of himself, then tilted his head.
“You here alone?”
You nodded. “No plans tonight. Just didn’t want to go home yet...”
He nodded too. “Okay. Just checking. I like to make sure people aren’t drinking too much if they’ve got work in the morning or no one to help them home.”
“I’m off tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” he said, already starting your second drink. “Then you’re mine for a little longer.”
You talked.
He asked easy, gentle questions, never pushed too far. You told him about your job. About the guy who made you feel like maybe you were almost enough until he reminded you three times that you weren’t.
Johnny didn’t flinch. Didn’t give you awkward sympathy. He reacted like a friend would.
A girl’s girl in bartender form.
When you told him the worst part, he gasped, eyes wide.
“Oh my god, no. Nooo. Please tell me you didn’t take him back the second time.”
“I—” you started to say, but he raised a finger.
“No judgment. But girl, three? That’s a series. That’s too much.”
You laughed, and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel like you were the one to blame.
“You deserve someone who freakin’ worships the ground you walk on,” he added, shaking his head. “Bare minimum.”
You looked down, slightly flustered, then glanced up at him. “Do you always give free therapy with your cocktails?”
He grinned. “Only to the prettiest people with sad eyes.”
You snorted. “Okay. That one was a little much.”
“I’m serious,” he said, not even blinking. “But I’ll dial it back. Don’t want to get kicked for being too charming.”
The conversation drifted to other things. TV shows, weird customers, city weather. You couldn’t believe how easy it was. You forgot what time it was until you noticed the bar was nearly empty.
“I should go,” you said reluctantly.
Johnny nodded, then called over another staff member and walked you out himself.
“Let me help you find a cab,” he said, glancing at his phone.
When the taxi pulled up, you hesitated by the door. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Would it be okay if we exchanged numbers?” he asked. “Just so I know you got home safe. Not trying to be weird.”
You handed him your phone.
As you slipped into the backseat, he leaned down a little. “Text me when you’re in, yeah? Please.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
Before the car drove off, you saw him pull out his phone again, typing something.
You didn’t think much of it—until you saw he was taking down the license plate number.
“Just to be safe,” he mouthed with a little smile, and then the cab rolled forward.
Later, after you walked into your apartment, you messaged him.
“Home safe. Thanks again.”
A few seconds later, the reply lit up your screen.
“Good. Sleep well. Hope I see you soon.”
You stared at the message, heart oddly warm.
You didn’t cry that night.
For the first time in weeks, you didn’t fall asleep replaying every mistake, every time you forgave someone who didn’t deserve it.
You thought about amber light. A cozy bar behind a vending machine. A bartender who smiled like he saw you and not the broken parts.
And something inside you started to bloom.
You went back to Johnny’s bar two nights later.
You didn’t plan to. You weren’t even sure if he would be there, but your feet led you down that same unfamiliar alley like muscle memory. And when the vending machine door clicked open and you stepped inside, there he was—like he’d been waiting.
Johnny looked up from behind the bar and smiled, slow and familiar.
“You came back,” he said, voice lighter than the jazz playing overhead.
You slipped onto the same barstool.
“Yeah. Felt like a ‘surprise me’ kind of night.”
And just like that, it became your thing.
You came by after long days, slow days, even good days. Sometimes you stayed for just one drink and a quick chat. Other nights, you stayed until closing, laughing about ridiculous customer stories or debating whether straws had one or two holes (Johnny said two, you refused to agree).
He never asked why you kept coming back. You never asked why he always seemed to light up when he saw you.
And yet, you both knew.
It was a Saturday afternoon when you ran into him outside the bar.
You were browsing at a small book café across town when someone tapped your shoulder.
“Wow,” came his familiar voice. “You do exist in sunlight.”
You turned, surprised—and then smiling before you could stop yourself. “What are you doing here?”
He held up a takeout cup and a paper bag. “There’s a bakery nearby I swear by. You?”
“Escaping my apartment.”
“Want company?”
And that was how your first “non-bar hangout” happened.
A few hours turned into the whole afternoon. You browsed used books, got matching lattes, and ended up sitting on the curb sharing the croissant he bought. You laughed so much your cheeks hurt. He wiped a crumb off your cheek without thinking.
Nothing was said. But something changed.
It kept happening.
You’d bump into him in random parts of the city.
Once at a record shop, once in line at a convenience store, once during a rainy evening at the train station. And every time, you’d end up spending hours together. Eating street food, watching buskers, people-watching and narrating strangers’ imagined drama like a sitcom. He made you laugh until your stomach ached.
“You know we’re basically dating, right?” you joked once, mid-bite of tteokbokki on the sidewalk.
Johnny didn’t even blink. “Yeah,” he said, licking sauce from his thumb. “Basically.”
But neither of you ever said officially. No label, no talk, no pressure.
And yet, there was no one else. You both just knew.
He never let you walk home alone. He never let your texts go unanswered. And you found yourself thinking of him before you even realized it.
One night, you showed up at Johnny’s bar late, exhausted and rain-soaked. He didn’t ask questions. Just handed you a hoodie from behind the counter and made you a warm drink.
You curled up in a booth as he worked, eyes following him like they always did.
When the bar emptied, he slid into the seat across from you.
“I like seeing you here,” he said quietly.
“I like being here,” you replied.
Johnny looked at you for a long moment. His smile softened. “You make the place feel… different.”
You swallowed. “Good different?”
“The best kind.”
You didn’t kiss. You didn’t hold hands. But when you walked home later that night, under the umbrella he insisted you take, you felt it.
That unspoken truth beneath everything.
He was yours and you were his.
No declarations, no grand gestures. Just quiet little things.
And somehow, those were the loudest.
Text messages turned into daily check-ins. Inside jokes. Memes. “Did you eat breakfast?” and “Tell me when you get home.”
You started meeting outside the bar more often. Weekend walks, museum trips, early brunches that turned into late afternoon café talks.
You still hadn’t kissed, but it didn’t feel like waiting.
It felt like knowing.
Like a feeling that didn’t need to be rushed.
One night, months after that first surprise encounter, you stayed at Johnny’s bar past midnight. The lights were low, chairs flipped, music off. You were leaning against the bar, watching Johnny wipe the counter, when he looked up at you.
“Can I tell you something?”
You nodded.
“I don’t know what this is,” he said. “Or what we’re calling it. But I think about you a lot. And I don’t want to see anyone else. I haven’t for a while.”
Your chest tightened, but not with fear.
Relief. Warmth.
“I feel the same,” you whispered.
He smiled, then reached out and gently laced his pinky with yours across the bar top.
No kiss. Not yet.
But in that moment, it didn’t matter.
You weren’t official. You didn’t need to be.
But you were something real.
Something steady, slowly blooming in a cozy bar behind a vending machine, and in all the spaces that used to feel empty before he filled them.
request: "Jaehyun (y/n's unrequited love at first but falls bit by bit for her)"
pairings: tattoo-artist!Jaehyun x afab-lawyer!reader (Johnny, Taeyong, Yuta & Ten cameo)┊genre: slow-burn romance, friends to lovers, some comedy (tried), fluff┊wc: 3.5k┊cw: minimal cursing/swearing
@bluedbliss I might have gotten a bit carried away (hence the wc im sorry) but I hope u like this anw~ tysm for requesting xoxo
a/n: slightly proofread. also, I MISS JAEYONG :((((
Two years ago, you found yourself reluctantly stepping into a tattoo shop, dragged there by your older brother Johnny and his friend Yuta. They promised you something irresistible:
“After the tattoo session, we’ll treat you to the best food ever.”
That was the only reason you agreed to tag along. You had zero interest in tattoos—well, aside from admiring the art from a safe distance.
The air inside smelled like antiseptic. Dark and edgy.
“Yo, Ten,” Johnny called as you all stepped in.
“Hey,” Ten mumbled from across the room without looking up, hunched over a client’s arm with focused precision.
“Hi to whoever you brought, too.”
“Hi,” you replied, a little amused.
Johnny grinned. “This is my little sister, the lawyer. Finally dragged her out.”
“Cool,” Ten said, still not looking up. “Hi lil sis.”
And then you saw him.
Jaehyun.
Jaehyun looked up from his desk near the window and stood, brushing graphite off his hands. He was wearing a loose, sleeveless black tee that showed off his toned, tattooed arms, his hair tousled like he hadn’t even tried. His dimples made an appearance as he gave you a small smile.
“And this,” Johnny continued, motioning toward Jaehyun and the man beside him, “is Jaehyun and Taeyong. They own this shop with Ten.”
Taeyong gave a slight nod and a friendly smile.
“Hey. You can sit on the couch if you want. There’s also a coffee shop downstairs if you want to grab something to eat.”
Without missing a beat, Ten called out again—still tattooing, not looking up.
“We’ve got water and instant coffee in the back, and snacks in the cabinet above the fridge. Might wanna grab something now—based on those cursed sketches Johnny and Yuta wanted, you’re gonna be here for a while.”
You chuckled. “I’m okay, thanks,” you said, settling onto the couch.
From your seat, you watched them work. Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Ten moved with smooth confidence, tattoos like murals on skin, faces too perfect.
They should be celebrities, you thought, not tattoo artists. Too handsome to be hidden in a tucked-away studio like this.
Jaehyun was working on Johnny’s forearm, glancing up occasionally to chat, then down again with expert precision. At one point, he looked over at you and flashed another smile, one dimple deepening.
“You look like you're analyzing us like a criminal case,” he said. “Should I be worried you’re building evidence?”
You smirked. “Only if bad puns are a felony.”
He snorted mid-laugh—snorted—and his pen jerked slightly.
“Shit,” he hissed. “Almost ruined the outline.”
Taeyong cracked a smile from where he was prepping Yuta’s arm.
“I told you not to try being funny while tattooing.”
Ten let out a snicker from across the room.
Johnny gave Jaehyun a side-eye.
“If you mess up my tattoo, I’m making you ink a dick on your pretty face.”
Jaehyun tried to hold in another laugh but failed miserably, shaking his head.
The whole room fell into a lighthearted rhythm after that, and from the couch, you watched it all unfold—your heart doing things it shouldn’t around a guy like him.
Johnny and Yuta loved Jaehyun and Taeyong’s work so much they kept coming back for more tattoos. And somehow, you kept tagging along—on the excuse that the café downstairs had the best iced Americano in Seoul.
They knew exactly why you came.
“Stop pretending you just like coffee,” Yuta teased one day as you sipped your drink while Jaehyun was busy with another customer.
You glared at him. “I’m the only responsible adult here, okay?”
Jaehyun caught your eye and grinned.
“Responsible, huh? I’d say reckless—showing up just for coffee and bad jokes.”
You rolled your eyes but chuckled when he flexed his tattooed arms and winked playfully.
Weeks passed, and you found yourself drawn into their world despite your demanding job. Whenever Johnny said Jaehyun would be around, you’d drop everything and come by.
One evening, Johnny nudged you during dinner.
“You know, everyone in the shop can tell you like Jaehyun. Even Taeyong and Ten are keeping tabs. Yuta knows, too. Obviously.”
You nearly choked on your food. “What? No way.”
Johnny smirked. “Yeah, way. You’re the worst at hiding it.”
You blushed but said nothing. You’d never told Jaehyun how you felt. You were scared it would ruin everything.
One day, while shopping for new office clothes at the mall, you and Jaehyun were walking side by side through the clean, wide hallways—your arm occasionally brushing his as you wandered in and out of stores.
He carried your shopping bags without complaint, even held up a few blouses to your frame while making fake model poses that made you snort.
Then, casually, you brought something up.
“Oh, by the way,” you said as you were flipping through some tailored blazers on a rack.
“A lawyer from SM asked me out yesterday. Said he saw me during trial and it was ‘love at first sight’.”
You didn’t look at Jaehyun when you said it. You weren’t sure why—maybe you were testing something, or just curious.
Jaehyun, who had been scrolling through his phone as he leaned against a pillar, paused. His smile faltered. You caught the flicker in his eyes when he looked up. Something unreadable. Confusion? Unease?
“Really?” His voice was slightly tighter than usual.
“Yeah,” you said, glancing at him from the side, trying to read him. “He seemed nice. Said he’s been seeing me in a few hearings and finally worked up the nerve.”
Jaehyun’s jaw ticked for a second. Then he gave a short laugh, forced.
“Can’t blame him. You’re pretty and amazing.”
Your heart twisted at the words. Sweet and supportive, but the delivery felt off.
There was silence. You were about to move on when he asked, voice low and seemingly offhanded, “So… do you like him?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not sure yet...”
Jaehyun tilted his head slightly, studying you. “He decent?”
You weren’t even sure why you were describing the guy that much.
Jaehyun nodded slowly, as if absorbing that.
“Are you thinking about going on a date with him?”
You glanced at him again. His tone was careful.
“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I’m still thinking about it.”
Jaehyun didn’t respond right away. He shifted his weight slightly, eyes drifting away toward the row of jackets behind you. His lips pressed together.
He told himself he should be happy for you. That’s what friends do, right? Be supportive.
But instead, something tugged at him.
The idea of someone else getting to listen to your rants after court, getting to see that excited sparkle in your eyes when you talked about winning a case. Someone else making you laugh.
He looked back at you with a faint smile, then tilted his head toward the escalators.
“Anyway, didn’t you say you wanted to check out the stationery shop on the fifth floor? Let's go. Before you fall for Mr. Perfect Hair and decide to ditch your shopping buddy.”
Jaehyun didn’t realize it yet, but that moment would haunt him for weeks. Because that wasn’t the reaction of someone who saw you as “just a friend”.
That was the first time he realized that if he didn’t do something soon, someone else might step in where he had always been too careful to tread.
Someone else might get to call you theirs.
And he didn’t think he could handle that.
The first time Jaehyun came to your office, he unintentionally caused chaos.
He had stopped by your building during one of his free afternoons, dressed casually in a black sleeveless hoodie that showed off his toned, tattoo-covered arms. His hair was pushed back, revealing his sculpted face, sharp jawline, and the ever-dangerous combo—his dimples and a polite smile.
He had walked up to the front desk like he belonged there, asking in that calm, deep voice, “Hi, I’m looking for Attorney L/N’s office? I’m a friend. Just dropping something off.”
The poor intern at the reception nearly dropped her pen.
“Oh—uh, yes! She’s on the 17th floor. You can take the elevator to your left,” she stammered, blinking rapidly as she tried not to stare too hard at his arms or the way his black joggers clung perfectly to his hips.
Jaehyun smiled and thanked them with a slight bow, his dimples making a brief but deadly appearance.
The whispers started as soon as he turned around.
“Oh my god.”
“Who is that?”
“Did we just get a celebrity in the lobby?”
As Jaehyun stepped off the elevator on the 17th floor, more heads turned.
Your colleagues peered through office windows, peeking from behind their cubicles as he walked calmly down the hallway, his boots making light thuds on the polished tile. Even the older colleagues blinked in mild surprise as he passed.
He gave a slight, bashful nod to a few people who were obviously staring and then he stopped outside your door.
Inside, you were busy typing furiously on your computer, deep in edits for an upcoming court document. When you heard a soft knock, you called out automatically, “Come in.”
You didn’t look up until the door creaked open.
And then, “Jaehyun?”
He stepped inside, holding a takeout bag in one hand and two cups of iced Americano in the other.
“Johnny told me you haven’t eaten yet. Said you texted him you were swamped with that multi-million dollar case.”
Your mouth opened slightly. “He told you that?”
“Yeah, we were texting,” Jaehyun said simply, placing the bag and drinks carefully on the corner of your desk. “So, I figured you might need some fuel.”
You blinked, then stood up and smiled, the surprise giving way to warmth.
“Thanks… I didn’t even realize how hungry I was.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, dimples peeking again as he gave you a boyish grin.
“Didn’t want you to faint from hunger while winning your clients’ millions.”
You laughed. “That’s very specific and considerate of you.”
He glanced briefly around your office, eyes scanning the framed degrees and awards on your walls.
“It’s cool seeing your world. You talk about court all the time, but seeing it like this? I dunno. Makes me proud.”
You paused. That was unexpectedly sweet.
Jaehyun didn’t linger too long. “I’ll let you get back to it. Eat, okay?”
You nodded, walking with him to the elevator.
“Thanks again, really.”
“Anytime,” he said, waving as the doors closed.
The moment you walked back into your office, you were ambushed.
Two of your colleagues nearly tackled you in the hallway.
“WHO was that?” one of them whispered, wide-eyed. “And can you introduce me?”
You laughed nervously, trying to sidestep them.
“He’s just a friend.”
“Oh please,” another snorted. “Friends don’t bring lunch like that with iced Americano and a face that hot. He looked like a heavily tattooed K-pop idol.”
“He’s really just a friend,” you repeated, holding up your hands.
“Then give me his number,” one said boldly. “If you’re not dating him, I wanna take him out.”
You blinked. Then blurted out the first thing that popped into your head.
“He’s gay.”
“What?” they all said in unison.
“Yeah,” you said quickly. “He just looks like that but totally not into women. That’s why we get along. We talk about boys.”
They stared at you suspiciously.
You gave your best lawyer-face and backed into your office.
“I gotta review this case. Good luck, ladies.”
That wasn’t the last time Jaehyun came.
He started dropping by whenever he had gaps in his schedule—especially after that day. Sometimes, he’d bring hot soup on rainy afternoons.
When you were in a meeting and didn’t see him, you’d come back to your office and find the food waiting for you, along with those funny little messages that made your heart skip.
“Eat this or I’ll tattoo ‘hangry’ on you myself. – J”
You’d sit down at your desk, smile at his note, and immediately shoot him a text.
“you’re ridiculous but thank you 💛”
He’d reply almost immediately.
“only the best for Seoul’s top lawyer 💅✨ did you eat it or are you suing me for trespassing 👀”
One afternoon, Jaehyun had texted you, asking if you wanted to hang out. Johnny, Taeyong, and Yuta were off hiking somewhere ‘spiritual’, and you were home alone, slowly losing your mind between legal briefs and iced coffee refills.
"Come to the shop," Jaehyun had said.
"It’s just me and Ten today. He’s my only victim-slash-client. You can study here—it’s quieter than you think. Plus, you get to hear me whine while I work."
So, you brought your notes. Another complicated case waiting to be dissected, and settled into the familiar couch across the room.
You couldn't help but glance up every now and then, the ink glistening beautifully under the shop lights, and Jaehyun looking much more attractive as he expertly outlined Ten’s arm.
Your eyes took in all of Jaehyun’s visible tattoos and teased, “You're basically art with muscles.”
Jaehyun glanced up, dimples showing.
“And you're basically an encyclopedia with legs.”
You bit back a laugh.
Ten let out a dramatic sigh.
“Can you two stop flirting while I’m trying not to die here? My pain tolerance is not compatible with this rom-com energy.”
Jaehyun snorted, eyes twinkling as he returned to his shading on Ten’s arm.
“Sorry, bro. She started it.”
You looked back down at your notes, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too hard, when Ten—currently sprawled comfortably in the chair as Jaehyun shaded on his arm—spoke up.
“So,” he began casually, “What’s the update on Mr. Perfect Hair?”
You blinked, caught completely off guard.
“Wait, how do you even know about him?”
Jaehyun visibly froze beside him, the buzzing of the tattoo machine pausing for a second. His shoulders stiffened.
Before Jaehyun could throw a warning glance or say anything, Ten casually replied, “Oh, Jaehyun told me.”
Your eyes slowly shifted to Jaehyun, who was now staring very intently on Ten’s arm—like his life depended on getting that one tiny shadow just right. He didn't meet your gaze. His jaw was clenched slightly, and you could see the tension in his brows. You raised a brow at him before turning back to Ten.
“He still texts me,” you said slowly. “But I haven’t said yes to his date invite yet… I’m not sure what to do.”
Ten hummed thoughtfully and turned his head to look at you.
“If you’re not sure, I think it’s better to just turn him down now. You don’t want to waste anyone’s time.”
You nodded, unsure. “Yeah, but what if I regret it?”
Ten gave you a knowing look, one Jaehyun purposefully avoided.
“You would've gone out with him a long time ago if you were really interested. You look like you're already into someone else anyway.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out because that actually made perfect sense. And the moment your eyes involuntarily glanced toward Jaehyun again, who was pretending he was way too focused on blending the shading, you felt your heart sink a little just from the weight of your own realization.
Later that night, after dinner and a little more quiet time at the tattoo shop, you finally sent Mr. Perfect Hair guy a message.
It was kind, honest.
You thanked him for his sweet words, told him you appreciated the gesture, but your heart wasn’t in the right place to start anything with him.
He responded quickly.
"That’s okay, really. Thanks for being honest. Whoever the guy is that ends up with you… he’s lucky. Good luck."
You smiled softly at the message. And without even thinking, your thumb hovered over another chat—Jaehyun’s. You didn’t type anything yet, but your heart was already miles ahead.
You were hanging out in the tattoo shop again, quietly studying your cases spread out on the table. The faint scent of ink filled the air.
Jaehyun was at his usual spot by the big window, working intently on a sketch for Yuta’s new tattoo. His brows knit together in concentration, every stroke of his pen deliberate and precise.
Every now and then, you’d glance up at him. His muscular, sleeveless arms flexing as he moved, tattoos on his skin looking like they had stories to tell. When he caught your eye, he’d flash that warm smile, dimples deepening, before returning his focus to the sketch.
You felt a quiet comfort in the shared silence, your mind flipping between legal jargon and the mesmerizing sight of Jaehyun so absorbed in his art.
Finally, summoning courage, you broke the silence.
“So... do you think someone like me could ever... get asked out by someone like you?”
You kept your eyes on the table, pretending not to watch his reaction.
Jaehyun paused, then laughed—a deep, genuine laugh that made your heart skip a beat. You looked up quickly, suddenly nervous.
“O-okay,” you said quietly, gathering your things, voice trembling a little, “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”
You stood up, heading for the door, when Jaehyun caught your wrist and suddenly pulled you into a tight hug.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh,” he said softly, his dimples showing as he smiled against your hair.
“I was laughing because... honestly, I can’t believe you beat me to it.”
You froze, heart pounding.
“I was going to ask you out,” he continued, voice soft but sure. “I just needed the right moment.”
You pulled back a little, searching his eyes. “Since when?”
His smile softened.
“Since the first time I saw you walk into the shop. You’re one of a kind—smart, funny, and somehow able to take my world-class jokes without rolling your eyes too hard.”
You laughed softly, the tension melting away.
“But when you told me about that lawyer guy who asked you out...” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Something just... flipped inside me. I realized I didn’t want to be just your tattoo artist friend or shopping buddy or your brother’s friend... I wanted to be part of your life, really part of it.”
Your breath hitched, warmth flooding your chest.
“So, what took you so long?” you asked, voice gentle but teasing.
He grinned, that familiar mischievous spark lighting up his eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for the right moment to ask you but you just beat me to it. And honestly? I’m glad you did.”
You smiled, like something long-awaited had finally arrived. Jaehyun pulled you back in for a tighter hug, his arms warm and secure around you as he gently swayed your bodies side to side. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, his chin resting lightly on your head.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured softly, voice slightly muffled in your hair.
“You walking into the shop that first day? I thought Johnny brought you just to test my self-control.”
You chuckled into his chest. “You almost ruined his tattoo.”
He laughed, the low sound vibrating through your frame. “Because you made me laugh. Still do.”
He leaned back just enough to look at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.
“I didn’t think someone like you could really look at someone like me and see beyond the ink or my dumb jokes.”
You reached up, fingertips tracing the curve of his jaw.
“I always saw you. I just thought maybe you didn’t see me like that.”
Jaehyun smiled, dimples deep, eyes soft.
“And I’ve always seen you. I just didn’t want to risk losing you before I was sure.”
His hand found yours, fingers intertwining, and he gave them a small squeeze.
Then, with a teasing grin, he said, “So… what’s gonna happen to that Mr. Perfect Hair guy? The one who fell in love with you at first sight?”
You tilted your head, feigning confusion.
“Mr. Perfect Hair? Hmm. Can’t say I know anyone like that.”
Jaehyun raised a brow, amused.
You bit back a smile, lowering your voice just a little.
“I am waiting for some guy to ask me out, though. Handsome, tattooed, annoyingly good at puns. I heard he might be free this weekend, and lucky me—I don’t have any cases to work on.”
For a second, Jaehyun didn’t move. Then that deep, warm laugh of his escaped as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your nose, dimples flashing.
“Perfect,” he murmured, still smiling. “I think that guy’s been waiting for the weekend, too.”
Weeks later, you were back in the tattoo shop when Jaehyun held out his hand.
On his ring finger was a tiny tattoo—your initials with a small heart.
“Tattoos last forever, right?” he said with that cheesy grin you secretly loved.
“So does my love for you.”
You smirked and pointed at your ring finger.
“Think you could tattoo mine with your initials?”
He leaned in close, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Only if you pay me with a kiss.”
You smiled and kissed him.
And just like that, your unspoken love was inked into reality—permanent, beautiful, and real.
@bluedbliss 💗 tysm! i hope u like this one! Jaehyun’s will be out soon dw ☺️ xoxo
You’d been in love with Jeno for years.
It wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t fleeting.
It was something that rooted itself so deep inside you, even you didn’t notice it blooming until it was too late.
And Jeno?
Jeno was the rising Twitch superstar.
The face of esports, the hilarious, charming, handsome streamer who could break the internet with a smile and get a hundred thousand viewers just breathing into his mic.
Everyone loved him.
And you?
You were just the best friend. Always had been.
You told yourself it was enough.
But sometimes, being close to someone you love hurts worse than being apart.
It was just another night in voice chat.
You weren’t even gaming—just talking while Jeno aimlessly clicked around on a puzzle game and you scrolled social media in bed.
Your voice was soft in the quiet.
“You ever think about what life would be like if we didn’t meet?”
Jeno paused. “Uh, yeah. I’d probably be way more boring.”
You smiled faintly. “You’d still be famous though.”
“Maybe. But I wouldn’t have someone sending me memes at 3 a.m. or reminding me to eat.”
You chuckled.
“So I’m your meme provider and personal health coach now?”
“Exactly. And moral support. And emotional damage controller.”
You hesitated, voice turning quieter.
“I’d still choose to meet you… even if I knew you’d break my heart someday.”
He didn’t respond right away.
You heard him shift in his seat, clicking something aimlessly.
“You’re weird tonight,” he mumbled, like he didn’t catch the weight of your words.
You just laughed it off.
You told yourself it was enough.
But it kept happening—these little moments that chipped away at your resolve.
Then came the night everything changed.
You’d always suspected that one of Jeno’s fellow streamers, a popular female gamer named Karina, had a thing for him.
The flirty remarks, the way she laughed at every word he said—even the ones that weren’t funny—yeah, you noticed.
You never said anything. It wasn’t your place.
But it stung.
Especially when their fans shipped them hard online.
Edits, fanart, clips—everywhere you looked, it was “Jeno x Karina”.
That night, you were just hanging out off-camera, curled up on his couch while he streamed a group collab. You weren’t supposed to be part of the stream. Just quietly scrolling on your phone, handing him a drink now and then, and keeping him company like you always did.
“Jeno,” Karina giggled over voice chat, “if we win this round, you have to go on a date with me.”
Chat exploded instantly.
OMG DID SHE JUST—
👀 👀 👀
OMGOMGOGMGOGM
U GO GIRL LMAO
Jenrina CONFIRMED???!
You tensed, glancing over at Jeno.
He didn’t hesitate.
“Nah,” he said casually. “I’m already taken.”
That alone was enough to make the chat go feral.
But then he looked over at you, grinned, and with one arm, pulled you right into the camera frame.
“Guys, this is Y/N,” he said, as if it was no big deal.
“My girlfriend. We’ve been together for a while.”
Your eyes went wide. “Jeno—”
He cut you off with a smile.
“I know we kept it lowkey, but... I figured it’s about time. She’s the love of my life, and I’m way too lucky to keep pretending she’s just my friend.”
The stream exploded.
WHATTTT??!!
NO WAY YOU KEPT THIS A SECRET—
SHE’S GORG WTF
JENO?? MY HEART 💔💔
WTF HE’S SO GONE
IM CRYING WE LOST HIM
Karina laughed awkwardly in her cam window.
“Wow, uh, okay! Didn’t expect that. Congrats, you two.”
But the flash of embarrassment on her face was hard to miss. Especially with nearly a million live viewers watching it all unfold.
Jeno didn’t even blink. He was still looking at you, eyes soft.
Then he read a chat message out loud: “Bro, she’s so pretty. You lucky AF.”
He smirked at the screen and pulled you closer, your cheek pressed against his.
“She’s all mine,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
“And I’m not sharing.”
Your face burned, and you tried to hide it, but the chat was already blowing up again.
By the time the stream ended, both your names were trending worldwide.
And despite the chaos, the teasing, the panic in your chest...
You’d never felt more seen.
But then again, it was all a lie anyway.
Then came that movie night. Just you, him, and a film that left both of you a little too quiet.
Halfway through the romantic drama, you noticed him wiping at his face.
“Wait… are you crying?” you asked, trying not to smile.
“N-no, this is sweat,” he said quickly.
“My eyes are just sweating.”
You softened. “It’s okay. I cry at this scene too.”
Jeno glanced at you, voice unexpectedly quiet.
“Do you think that kind of love is real? The forever kind?”
You shrugged. “Yeah. But it’s rare. Most people are too scared to say how they really feel.”
He stared at the screen for a long second.
“That’s dumb. If you love someone, you should just tell them.”
“Exactly,” you said. “Unless they don’t love you back.”
Neither of you said anything after that. The silence spoke loud enough.
So finally, during one of your usual late-night hangouts, you cracked.
“Maybe I like you more than a friend.”
It slipped out.
Jeno froze.
You waited.
And he said nothing. Just blinked, glanced away, and mumbled something about getting more chips.
So you ghosted him.
“Still no reply?” Chenle asked, glancing at the group chat. “Dude, he’s been MIA for almost a week.”
“I called six times,” said Hendery. “Nothing. Straight to voicemail.”
Yangyang sighed, chin in hand. “He didn’t even tweet a ‘taking a break’ message. His fans are freaking out.”
“He left me on read,” Haechan added dramatically. “Me. That’s betrayal.”
Jisung frowned. “What if something happened to him?”
Taeyong tried to stay positive. “He’s fine. Probably just... I don’t know. Figuring something out?”
Chenle stared at the group chat, almost tipping over in his seat when he noticed Jeno’s icon blinking with ‘typing’.
“HE’S TYPING!!!” he yelled. The guys quickly opened the chat and waited anxiously for Jeno’s message.
And finally, he replied.
“Sorry guys. I’m fine... physically anyway. Just have something to figure out. Ttyl”
Jeno did. He finally did.
Sitting in his dark room, lights off, half-eaten ramen forgotten beside his keyboard, Jeno stared at the ceiling.
You said you liked him more than a friend.
And he didn’t say anything.
He started pacing, mind spiraling.
Why did he always reply to your texts within seconds and answer your calls before the third ring, when with others it took him at least 2 business days to respond—or sometimes he just forgot altogether?
Why did he drop everything, even mid-stream, when you needed help?
Why did it bother him so much whenever you were with other guys?
Why was he suddenly willing to leave his house just to hang out with you, when everyone knew he barely ever went out before?
Why did he spend so much effort choosing random gifts for you?
Why were his tears reserved just for movie nights with you, and never anyone else?
Why was he quick to dismiss anyone trying to flirt with him?
Why did you make him feel like home?
“Shit,” he muttered, dragging a hand over his face.
“I’ve been in love with her all along.”
He grabbed his hoodie and ran out into the rain.
You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not him—soaked to the bone, hoodie heavy with rain, sneakers squelching against your doormat.
“Y/N,” he said, out of breath. “Please open the door.”
You froze. Then unlocked it, heart racing.
“What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“You’re—Jeno, you’re soaking wet!”
“I don’t care.”
Then he kissed you.
It wasn’t soft. It was desperate, aching, like he was trying to make up for every second he hadn’t realized he loved you.
You stood frozen until you pushed him back, wide-eyed and breathless.
“What the hell was that?!”
Jeno exhaled sharply.
“I love you.”
You blinked at him, stunned. “What?”
“I’m serious.” His voice cracked.
“I didn’t realize it until you stopped talking to me. Until you disappeared. And then I started thinking about all the times I dropped everything for you, and how I hated seeing you with other guys, and how you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel safe… like home.”
He laughed, dry and bitter. “I’m academically smart, but I’m so goddamn clueless. I didn’t get it...”
You blinked away tears. “You ignored me when I confessed.”
“I didn’t mean to. I panicked. I didn’t know what to say. I was afraid I’d lose you. But then I lost you anyway, didn’t I?”
He stepped forward slowly.
“I couldn’t stream. I couldn’t eat. Every time I looked at my phone and saw no messages from you, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
“You made me feel like a fool,” you whispered. “Do you know how hard it was to say that to you?”
“I know.” He swallowed. “I know now. And I’m sorry… for making you feel like your feelings weren’t important. They are. You are.”
You looked at him, your idiot of a best friend, soaked from head to toe because he just realized he loved you.
“Why are you like this?” you said, voice shaking.
“Why do you only figure things out when it’s almost too late?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe because I’ve never had to fight for something I wanted… not until you.”
Your heart cracked open.
You threw your arms around him, not caring that he was dripping wet. He tried to pull back, worried.
“You’re gonna get sick,” he murmured.
You shook your head, pressing your forehead to his.
“I don’t care. I missed you so much, you stupid idiot.”
He finally smiled, eyes glassy.
“Can I kiss you again?”
You leaned in and kissed him softly. This time with no fear, no confusion, just pure, quiet relief.
Later, inside, wrapped in a blanket, you teased, “So... are you finally going to tell your chat why you’ve been MIA?”
Jeno smirked. “Yeah. I’ll say, ‘Sorry I disappeared. I was too busy realizing I’ve been in love with my best friend for like, 6 years and only figured it out when she ghosted me’.”
You burst out laughing. “They’re gonna roast you.”
hi hello, when i followed you I don’t really expect that we’ll become mutuals lol hehe hi
think i’m gonna come clean, i was the haechan anon teehe ngl i’m so shy, i hope we can be friends 🙈
OMG THAT WAS U?!?!? OMGOMGOMG WHAT ARE U TALKING ABOUT??? OFC!!! ID BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO BE FRIENDS WITH U😭💓 ngl the haechan mini-series only happened coz u kinda hinted u wanted more… if i could, i’d totally take u out for coffee to thank u properly 🥺 if u like coffee. or a dessert date or wtv u like 😭
request: “fake dating trope with johnny who's obsessed with his dream girl/noona crush. He fake date y/n to make his crush jealous, but when he finally got together with his crush, he realizes she's not who he thought she was. Compares his time with y/n when they were "together". Y/n on the other hand, secretly has a crush on johnny for a very long time, but she's a shy quiet girl, so imagine her surprise when her crush suddenly asked her to date him, although just for show 💔”
pairings: veterinarian!Johnny x animalrescuer-afab!reader + NCT 127 cameo ┊ genre: slight angst, slow-burn romance, fluff ┊ wc: 1.5k ┊ cw: minor swearing/cussing, mentions of stray/abused animals in gen (nothing extreme dw, animal lovers can safely read this! i promise!!!)
to anon: I was not sure what kind of ending u wanted, but if u need want an angsty one, just lmk ok 💓 tysm for sending this in! 🥰
Johnny Suh had always been a dreamer.
Despite his dry humor and his reputation for stoic sarcasm, he carried a soft heart beneath all that quiet confidence.
A heart that once latched onto a girl too pretty to be real—Yoona, the stunning fashion model who once called him “cute” at a mutual friend’s party, who laughed at his joke when nobody else did.
He thought it was the start of something.
Sometimes he’d mention her out of the blue—“Yoona likes ketchup”, like it was a random fact worth knowing. He kept up with her Instagram too, like he was waiting for a sign, some hint that she saw him the way he saw her.
And you? You just listened, pretending it didn’t hurt every time he said her name like it meant more than yours ever did.
You, on the other hand, had known Johnny for years—and knew better.
You’d watched him from the sidelines as he built up that fantasy.
You’d smiled patiently through dozens of late-night rants about how “Yoona isn’t like other influencers”, or “she actually gets my humor”—even when you knew she absolutely didn’t.
You were the quiet one, the one who brought stray cats into his clinic, who knew how to laugh at his darkest jokes, who understood his sarcasm quickly.
You’d been in love with him for so long, it hurt.
Then came the moment everything changed.
“What if we pretend to date? Just for a bit.”
You stared at him across the clinic lobby in shock.
“Pretend to what?”
“Come on,” he said, trying to make it sound casual.
“You and me, fake couple. Just for a bit. Yoona’s been kind of… flirty but not serious, and I think she just needs a little push. I heard she’s only interested in guys who are already taken. So…”
Johnny looked so determined, and you wanted to hate him for it. But you couldn’t.
You’d seen Yoona before—tall, effortlessly beautiful, a fashion model with thousands of followers and a condescending smirk she reserved for anyone outside her circle.
You’d heard him replay that party a hundred times. How she’d touched his arm playfully, how she’d laughed, how she’d looked like she saw something in him. You wanted to believe she didn’t. But Johnny did. And it hurt to watch.
You tried not to show it, but the crack in your voice betrayed you.
“Y-yeah, sure. I guess…”
Why? Because you were a sucker for him. Because you were tired of just watching. Because even if it was fake, you wanted to know what it felt like to be Johnny’s girlfriend.
Even for just a little while.
For a few weeks, it was crazy.
Handholding. Inside jokes. You giggled when he whispered “babe” in that fake-serious voice. You even let him put his arm around you in public, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
But Johnny’s friends knew something was up.
They’d known you and Johnny for years—witnessed the harmony, the unspoken bond, how you just made sense together.
“So, when are you two actually going to date for real?” Taeyong asked one night as you joined them for late dinner.
You blinked. “Oh, we’re not—”
“You should,” Jungwoo interrupted, wagging his chopsticks at you.
“She laughs at your jokes. No one else does that, hyung. She’s obviously a keeper.”
“Hey—!”
“Also,” Doyoung chimed in, sipping his beer, “can we talk about that model chick for a second?”
Johnny narrowed his eyes. “What about her?”
“She’s got major fake energy,” Doyoung said bluntly. “She talks to people like they’re accessories.”
“Dude,” Yuta said flatly, watching you and Johnny share a drink at their regular hangout. “Doyoung’s right. I don’t like that fake-ass model girl.”
Johnny raised a brow. “But you guys never even met her???”
“Honestly? Don’t even want to. Sorry not sorry, bro,” Jaehyun said as he took a sip of his drink.
“Every time you say her name, I get the creeps,” Haechan added, clutching his chest dramatically. “Like, hyung. For real. She’s bad.”
Taeyong leaned across the table and pointed his gaze at you.
“But Y/N? Y/N is pure serotonin. She volunteers to save animals and literally adopted a stray you rescued. She’s a Disney princess with anxiety!”
“I like her,” Ten said, gesturing at you with his drink. “She fits you perfectly.”
Jungwoo grinned. “She’s your balance. You’re chaos, she’s calm. The math is mathing.”
You looked down, flustered as hell.
“Even I don’t like that girl,” Mark added quietly. “And I like everyone.”
Johnny choked on his soda. “Wait—you too?!”
Mark shrugged. “Bro, I don’t even know what you see in her. She’s just pretty on the outside, but inside? Yikes.”
That made Johnny pause. He waved it off.
But the next time he met up with Yoona, he started seeing the cracks.
She rolled her eyes when he mentioned your name. Said you looked “so plain it hurts”. That you were probably in love with him, “which is cute, but tragic”. Even likened you to the strays you kindly rescued and brought to his clinic.
Johnny stared at her for a long moment.
And then he laughed.
But not the charming kind.
The cold kind. The kind that made Yoona stare at him in confusion.
“Wow,” he said. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”
“What?” she said, half laughing, thinking he was joking.
He wasn’t.
“You talk like you’re the only person with value in the room,” Johnny continued, voice calm, too calm.
“You treat waiters like shit. You insult people who’ve never done anything to you, especially her. And the worst part? You think I’d be okay with that.”
Yoona blinked. “I was joking—”
“Were you?” Johnny leaned back.
“Because you talk a lot of crap for someone who’s barely done anything real. You smile for cameras and think that makes you better than the woman who works her ass off rescuing abused animals. The one who doesn’t brag about it, by the way—she just does it because she gives a damn.”
“Johnny—”
“She’s got more heart than you ever will. She shows up every day at my clinic even when she’s tired, even when she’s scared. She treats people with kindness without expecting anything back. And guess what? She’s smarter, funnier, and infinitely more beautiful than you could ever hope to be.”
Yoona looked stunned.
“Is this seriously about her?” she asked, her voice trembling for the first time.
“I said I was sorry, Johnny. I didn’t mean it like that.”
He stood up.
“That’s the thing,” he said, picking up his jacket.
“I don’t fucking care. You can cry, apologize, beg—I don’t feel anything for you anymore. And I sure as hell don’t want to waste another second pretending I ever really did.”
He walked out before she could reply and never looked back.
It hit him days later. The fake dates with you had felt more real than anything he’d ever had.
You laughed at his worst puns. You didn’t mind when he talked to animals like they were people. You carried bandages in your tote bag just in case you found an injured animal on the street.
One night, Johnny was walking you home from the clinic when you found a shivering stray. Without hesitation, he pulled out dog food from his backpack. You looked at him, eyes shining, and he just shrugged.
“I always carry some,” he said. “You never know.”
He remembered how you smiled that night. Like he’d done something miraculous, when really, it was just what he did.
That same dog had become “Johnny”.
You adopted him, named him after the man you loved, and brought him to the clinic almost every week “just to say hi.”
He’d been blind. He saw that now.
He missed you. The warmth, the quiet care, the way you made him feel like being himself was enough.
So he planned something.
Later that week, Johnny asked you to meet him on the rooftop above the clinic.
The sun was dipping low, painting the sky with dusky pinks and oranges.
Johnny the dog, was sitting there with a ridiculous bowtie on, tail wagging like crazy.
You walked up, cautious. “What is this?”
“Just stay right there,” Johnny said, stepping forward.
He pulled something from his hoodie pocket. A small silver tag. Your name engraved on one side. On the other?
‘You are my always’
You covered your mouth.
“Listen,” he said, voice low and real.
“I was a dumbass. I thought love had to be loud and flashy. Turns out, it’s just someone who laughs at your awful jokes and makes your clinic feel like home. Someone who brings you soup when you’re sick and names a dog after you because she thinks you’re worth remembering.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
Johnny stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I’ve been yours for a while, Y/N. I just didn’t get it until now.”
You barely managed to whisper. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious. No more pretending.”
And finally, he kissed you. Tender and real.
Johnny pulled back just enough to murmur, “I love you”.
You didn’t hesitate.
“I love you too.”
And that was that. No more fake dates, no more dreaming.
Just you, Johnny, and a totally spoiled rescue dog named after the guy you’d loved the whole time.
hey 😭 you did it again!!! I didn’t lie when i said that i really feel the love haechan gave to his gf. BCS IT FELT REAL. Idk maybe i’m a hopeless romantic and maybe i longed for a love like that, but maybe i can only read it to experience it. anw i love your writing <3 it broke my heart that this haechan didn’t exist for me lol i am a hopeless one
Thank you for writing up my requests, love youuuuu<3
u're so cute 🥹 and sweet 🥹 and i love u 🥹🩷 idk who u are, but i want to let u know that u're def one of the reasons why i willingly made this a simp haechan a mini-series <3 so thank u so much & thanks for the support <333
‘simping 101: get roasted & love will follow’ | pre-simp Haechan
summary: Haechan’s origin story? Got roasted so hard he fell in love AKA reminiscing how you entered his life, what happened during your relationship + uni + present
pairings: haechan x afab!reader (ft. 6DREAM)┊genre: fluff (with a sprinkle of comedy), simp haechan (yes, it’s a genre now), established relationship┊wc: 1.4k┊cw: minimal cursing/swearing
to new readers: I highly suggest u read the below stories first so u’ll understand the references better (if u haven’t yet!)
╰⪼ PART I - 'choose me' (wc: 0.8k)
╰⪼ PART II - 'choose me, PLEASE' (wc: 2.8k)
I feel like this 'haechan simp' thing just evolved into a mini-series 😂 but I'm happy & extremely grateful 💓 tysm my precious haechan-simp-loving readers xoxo
a/n: slightly proofread—literally wrote this at work w/ no coffee 🥲 might update the story later once my braincells recover
3 MONTHS AGO
“And now—”
You reached over and yanked Haechan’s hood down from his head.
“Dude, you’re not walking up there looking like a damn SoundCloud rapper.”
He scoffed. “I’m setting trends.”
“You’re setting my freaking blood pressure off.”
The dean’s voice boomed across the auditorium.
“Lee Donghyuck. Summa Cum Laude.”
Cue dead silence. Followed by confused applause and sideways glances.
People clapped, sure, but it was that awkward ‘wait, what the heck?’ kind of clap you give when someone drops a bomb no one saw coming.
Students from other departments whispered, “Wait, him?”
Because to them, Haechan was the walking definition of ‘should’ve been a K-pop idol’.
Jaw-droppingly attractive, dangerously charming, and way too distracting for anyone trying to focus.
He was better known for dance covers in lecture halls and for being the loud, chaotic senior who gave more attention to the vending machine than his textbooks.
He wasn’t just famous on campus—he was also infamous for being completely and embarrassingly obsessed with the university’s notorious Tinder girl (you).
No one expected the guy who could barely sit still in class to be the academic dark horse of the year.
But the truth was, Haechan didn’t even need to try that hard—he was just freaking smart without breaking a sweat. The type to nap through finals and still wreck everyone’s GPA.
Now, with his name echoing through the auditorium and confused applause still rippling behind him, he walked across the stage in confidence.
You jumped up, screamed, and clapped like a proud (slightly crazy) soccer mom.
“THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND!”
The entire row turned to stare.
“Sit your butt down,” Haechan mouthed from the stage but winked anyway, diploma in hand.
You beamed, eyes sparkling with pride.
Three months later, you now live together. For real.
You weren’t just his girlfriend anymore—you were his roommate. Well, co-lessee if you wanted to be technical about it, but to Haechan, the moment you signed that lease was cosmic. Like fate flipping the script.
It still felt surreal.
One fridge, one bed, one Netflix account, and a shared chore chart (that he sometimes ignored).
You were snoring lightly with your face smooshed into his shoulder, dead asleep in pajamas, but somehow still looking ethereal.
Haechan lay on his side, warm from the shower, your arms draped around him like you were clutching something precious. He liked to think it was him.
He sighed and his eyes fluttered shut as he let himself fall into that rabbit hole again—the memory of how it all began.
──────
THE FIRST MEETING
“Jisung, why the heck are you bringing some stranger to our table?” Renjun asked, sipping his iced americano like a grumpy old professor.
NCT DREAM had gathered in the cafeteria for lunch.
“Y/N's not a stranger,” Jisung said all innocent. “She’s in my club.”
“The astrology club?” Jaemin raised a brow. “Didn’t you join by accident?”
Jisung blushed. “Not the point.”
“It kind of is,” Chenle chimed in, cackling.
“You thought it said astronomy. Quit lying.”
“It was an honest mistake!”
Haechan chuckled but stayed quiet. Truth was, he was curious. He had never seen your face for some reason.
Everyone knew your name—the infamous 'Tinder girl' of campus lore.
Some mocked you, some envied you, some were full-on crushing.
But Haechan? He didn’t give a flying fuck about gossip. He knew gossip had the nutritional value of a rice cracker: empty and usually flavored weird.
You did your thing. That was way more impressive than half the campus clowns.
What shocked him was that the girl Jisung dragged over was you—the pretty stranger he’d caught eye of a few times. The one he had put on his 'casual uni crush' mental list. You were the Tinder girlie.
And now you were walking right up to him, oozing confidence.
“Guys,” Jisung grinned. “This is Y/N.”
You lazily waved and plopped into the seat across from Haechan.
“Sup.”
“Sup,” Haechan replied, trying to play it cool despite his brain crashing five seconds ago.
You sat next to Jisung, unbothered, while Haechan stared like he’d just seen his entire future flash before his eyes.
You talked about aliens, ghosts, reincarnation, horoscopes—basically everything wild and weird.
Renjun tried to bring up science, and you shot him down as a ‘typical Aries’ (he was impressed, by the way).
You bounced from conspiracy theories to memes to your dream of buying a pig farm one day.
Haechan smirked. You were sharp, witty, beautiful, and seriously dangerous.
He didn’t stand a chance.
You had the whole table cracking up, but Haechan found himself trying way too hard to get your attention.
He cracked bad jokes. Made weird noises. Tried to juggle cheeseballs and hit Jeno in the face.
Finally, you gave him that look—that straight-faced, deadpan, iconic moment that haunted him ever since.
“Did you take something, or are you just naturally this annoying?”
And just like that, he fell in love.
From then on, he watched, waited, and suffered through your rants about crappy Tinder dates. But instead of mocking, he just listened—and it broke his heart.
Every. Damn. Time.
He vowed to never be the jerk who broke your heart if you gave him a chance. Just one.
Even after people made fun of him for being a simp. Even when you dated other guys. Even when he told himself to give up.
He never could.
He started paying attention to everything.
He memorized your moods, dreams, food preferences, even your period schedule (mentally tracked, he wasn’t that creepy).
So when you asked him out first, he melted.
And when you said, “Can I be your girlfriend?” he panicked and blurted “I love you” because that was the truth and he meant it more than anything.
Now, here you were, wrapped up in each other. The soft rustle of sheets and vanilla body wash filled the air.
He was still wide awake. Today had been too special for sleep.
You’d celebrated your first anniversary. One whole year with you—chaotic, sarcastic, absolutely irresistible you.
Haechan, being the show-off he was, went all out.
He pulled a mini “K-drama boyfriend” stunt.
Rented a fancy restaurant and even paid for the whole thing like the chaebol he pretended to be in a past life.
The surprise on your face when the staff brought out the candlelit dessert and played that cheesy love song he secretly told them was “your song” (you didn’t even have one, but he just really liked that one Taeyeon ballad), was priceless.
You looked like a movie scene. No filter, no edits, just raw, real you—soft-eyed, beautiful, and most importantly, his.
He smiled as he unlocked his phone, your sleepy breath tickling his neck.
His lockscreen was that stolen photo from your first date—the one where you caught him and flipped him off, demanding he delete it. He didn’t.
His homescreen? A more recent stolen shot of you trying to look like a confused hamster but still somehow looked more beautiful than anyone had the right to be.
He scrolled through the photos from today, grinning at the selfies, the blurry laughing shots, the one of you trying to bite his hand when he stole a piece of meat from your plate.
His smile softened.
God, he loved you.
A cute couple selfie popped up and he let out a soft giggle.
“Should frame this,” he muttered. “Kitchen, living room, heck, even the bathroom.”
He glanced at your sleeping face again, your mouth was slightly open.
Still the prettiest.
Still the love of his life.
Still his.
He still thought you were the most beautiful person in the universe even when you drooled a little.
He leaned in and kissed your forehead softly, lips lingering.
“Future wife,” he whispered with a fond smirk. People always thought he was joking when he called you that, but he meant it.
Because you were it for him. The quiet in his chaos. The one his soul just knew.
Then, now, always.
You stirred.
“Mmm. Why’re you whispering creepy stuff?”
“Just being romantic.”
“More like suspicious.”
He laughed, pulled you close, and whispered again.
“I love you.”
You mumbled something like “love you too, weirdo”, then passed out again.
Haechan grinned like a man who had everything.
Because he did.
And tomorrow, he’d pretend he didn’t cry a little from too much happiness tonight.
to everyone who sent in their requests, i want y’all to know that i’ve listed them all and will be working and posting them soon ^^ hopefully this week! so pls stick around 🧡
i’m still accepting requests btw so feel free to hmu 🫡
as always, THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT 🥹 really appreciate all of my readers 🤧🫶
I loooove simp Haechan! Would you consider writing for Jeno (maybe him oblivious to it but falling for y/n who fell for him first) and Jaehyun (y/n's unrequited love at first but falls bit by bit for her) too?
hi! thank u for reading 💓 and ofc i can write something for u! but to clarify, would it be one for jeno & one for jaehyun? or would u like a love triangle thing? 👀 i’m alright with writing either dw ☺️
