𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙞 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 . . . ★ weak hero class. the winning try. duty after school. night has come. twinkling watermelon. the gifted 2018. home school. love and deepspace.
𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙨 . . . ★ no nsfw for now since im still new to writing smuts but im open to suggestive reqs! more will be added but i won't write anything that makes me uncomfortable.
𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨 . . . ★ open!
when requesting, please be specific or atleast add few details on how you want it ꩜ .ᐟ — vague reqs won’t be prioritized.
these past 2 months had been a wild rollercoaster for me so i genuinely had ZERO motivations to write 😭 i also recently lost a close friend of mine due to smth that i said and im still pretty down about the whole thing so... moral of the story here is to think before you speak </3
I saw that u are open for requests and that u write for duty after school and i literally CHEERED! There are almost no writers for this kdrama.
I have a small request, could you write something with Do Soo-cheol, maybe before they were entitled into military or something like that?
NEVER LET GO. ੭ৎ
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 . . . ★ do soocheol (duty after school) x gn!reader
𝙬𝙘 . . . ★ 1.4k
𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 . . . ★ fluff, romance
𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 . . . ★ an awkward wave from you is all it takes for soocheol to come barging into your personal space, aka the piano room one late evening. from giving him small piano lessons (with him messing up badly), to a first kiss that might change your whole dynamic.
𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙥 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 . . . ★ AAA so sorry for the long wait!! i've been busy w life stuffs + i also failed my driving test #hurtsmorethanarejection 💔 i'm retaking it again this week n hopefully i'lil pass it this time. anyways i'm having major writer's block rn so i hope this is what u wanted anonie <3
the sounds of piano echoed through the room as your fingers run the keys effortlessly like you had done this a million times before.
it was 4pm on a friday. most had already gone home for the weekend with the exception of a few teachers doing their last reviews and also students who had nothing better to do aside kicking balls on the school field.
do soocheol was one of them.
you took glances once in a while to observe the scene—or moreso him, playing below. you caught a glimpse of him stumbling over a ball when he failed to kick it and with wootaek laughing right after. you weren’t lying when you say you found that quite funny too.
it was between that or settling on the floating purple orbs on the sky. it is kind of beautiful now that you’ve seen it properly, finally seeing the beauty in what these other people had said.
you never thought he would notice you watching him, so you continued—not in that creepy stalker way of course.
until he did.
the moment was brief, but it felt like it lasted forever.
he made eye-contact with you the next time you glanced again—him looking up, hair clinging to his forehead from sweating and finally, he smiled.
you awkwardly raised one of your hands from the keys and waved at him, him doing the same thing.
you looked away quickly, not wanting to give him the wrong idea and tried focusing on your fingers. your fingers moved on it’s own but your mind was onto something else.
it went like that for awhile before a soft knock came. you weren’t expecting anyone.
“who is that?” you asked, suddenly cautious.
“it’s me, soocheol.”
his familiar voice boomed outside the door. instinctively, your posture was straight, your hair was fixed and your lip was hydrated again.
“come in.”
you watch as soocheol comes in and closes the door behind him. he had two sandwiches on both hands.
“didn’t expect to see you here.”
“i didn’t too.”
he replied while taking a seat next to you, keeping a safe distance. his hand held out towards you, offering one of the sandwiches.
“here, thought you might need it.”
you accepted it. your fingers slightly brushed against his as you took it. you muttered a quiet thank you, hiding the tremble in your voice. soocheol simply smiled.
you two ate in silence, enjoying eachother’s company instead of bombarding you with questions.
“piano’s are interesting.”
“hm?”
you hummed, turning to look at him. his mouth was full when he said that—making it sound like he was mumbling. he repeated it again this time, making sure you could hear it fully.
“oh. yes, very.”
you quickly replied, smiling. soocheol watches as you cleaned sandwich bits off your fingers before they hovered over the keys again.
“do you… want to learn a song? just a simple one.”
you saw his eyes lights up, and he replied quickly than he could—almost choking on his last bite of sandwich. you giggled at his childish antic.
“okay, before we start, make sure you don’t die first.”
he grinned.
“what do i do, boss?”
he asked, waiting for your next instructions.
“first, put your fingers on these keys..” you said, pointing him towards it. his hand placement was a little weird, so you slowly fixed it not before asking if it was okay for you to touch him—his hand was warm against your cold ones. suddenly, you felt heat rushed up towards your cheeks.
soocheol pressed the keys softly, slightly off-tone that it made you laugh but there is always a first time for everyone.
“you playing this can seriously kill a victorian child.” you joked once as he played. he gasped dramatically, as if you had ridiculed his entire bloodline.
“just wait and see.” he replied and you see him grin again.
what you didn’t realize was how close you two were, shoulders bumping like this was a normal occurence.
as he played his part, you harmonized with him on the other end of the piano, slowly and surely to catch up with his speed. it felt straight out of a romance novel—and you prayed soocheol couldn’t hear your quickening heartbeats.
he watched you as you started. his eyes glanced from your fingers to your face—smiling at your focused look.
“what’s funny?” you asked, not looking up.
“nothing. you look cute when you’re focused.”
your fingers abruptly stop, making him stop too. by the end of it, his left hand and you right ones are right next to eachother, itching to be hold.
“you know—i lied when i said piano’s were interesting.”
you hear his voice next to you, soft and quiet. you would’ve missed it if you didn’t paid attention—but he was the only thing you gave attention to during all this.
“then what is?”
you asked, slightly turning to him. if you moved closer, your face would be an inch away from kissing.
soocheol hesitated for awhile, observing your face for any signs of worry—and when he was sure you were fine, he continued.
“it’s you that i find interesting.”
your breath hitched in your throat. suddenly, the things you wanted to say was stuck.
“it was always you, since the first day we met.”
the light from the sunset fell across his face in thin, orange hues. upclose like this, you see the small creases on his cheek, the way his mouth slacked slightly open and finally, his eyes—clear. unblinking. gazing directly at yours, like you were the last precious thing the day had left to offer.
in that suspended amber moment, the whole day seemed to narrow down to this single moment, as though you were the only thing left in the world worth seeing.
his hand rose slowly, fingertips brushing your jaw like he was afraid of hurting you.
“may i?”
you nodded, allowing the pad of his thumb to trace down the curve of your lower lip, lingering there as if memorizing it’s shape.
then slowly, he leaned in.
the kiss was quiet at first, almost hesitant—lips meeting in the softest press while the last of the sunset moved across the edges of your faces.
his mouth was warm and you felt the small exhale against your skin as he tilted his head, deepening it just enough to make it real—slow and steady, like he was pouring everything unspoken into that single moment of contact.
your fingers curled into his shirt, anchoring yourself as the world narrowed to just the two of you. the heat of him, the faint tremor in his breath and the way his other hand slid to the nape of your neck, holding you close like he never wanted it to end.
when you finally parted—just enough to breathe—his forehead rested against yours. the sunset had bled into deep violet and indigo now, the purple orbs shining through like quiet witnesses. soocheol's eyes however, still close and searched yours in the dimming light.
"don't let go,"
he whispered, voice rough around the edges, thumb brushing your cheekbone where a tear you hadn't noticed had slipped free.
you didn't answer with words—instead you kissed him again. slower this time, letting the promise linger between you.
eventually, you pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes crinkled at the corners in the way that always meant trouble.
"you don't know how long i've wanted to do that."
before you could respond, he took your hands in his and guided them back to the keys again.
"now i've got an excuse to come here every single day."
soocheol murmured, his grin widening.
you stared. “you’re kidding.”
he leaned closer. “i'm serious. piano practice, you teach me. who knows, maybe i could be as good—or even better than you."
you snorted and slapped him across the chest jokingly.
"you wish. if it were me, i'll work on my ball kicking skills instead of being too overconfident." you added.
soocheol paused and slowly turned to you.
"wait-you saw that?"
his eyes widened and he quickly hid his face in his hands.
you giggled as you replayed the scene over and over in your head. then, you leaned in and pecked the corner of his cheek—quick, sweet—you could hear him laugh lowly and before you knew it, soocheol dragged you into a tight hug, almost pulling you down the floor.
"why did you even come here in the first place?"
"wootaek pissed me off, so i ditched him."
"you're so bad!"
you both laughed into the hug.
outside, it was late evening. inside, it's just the two of you and the warm echo of keys still humming.
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 . . . ★ do hyeongsik (the winning try) x nurseassistant!reader
𝙬𝙘 . . . ★ 3k
𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 . . . ★ fluff, romance
𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 . . . ★ when you—a college student-turned nurse’s assistant at hanyang high school discovers a pattern of patching up the same person over and over again—do hyeongsik, the rugby team’s hotheaded captain with bruised knuckles and an even worse temper. what started as “accidents” turned into silly excuses, and a boy learning how to slow down instead of fighting. as graduation approaches and injuries stop being a reason to meet, he realizes he doesn’t want to see you because he’s hurt—he wants to see you because of you.
𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙥 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 . . .★ i suck at titles oml. just realized i also had shit ton of grammatical errors in my last fic since i rarely double check my work 😭 pls ignore them for now. reader is 20 and he is 18 in this.
the first thing you learned about being in a sports high school was how noisy it could be sometimes.
it hums when you're not doing anything. you hear footsteps thudding down hallways long after class, whistles slicing through the air, laughter and groans, and the sharp crack of bodies colliding somewhere in the school field.
when you signed up to be a nurse’s assistant for university credit, you imagine clipboards, ice packs, and the gentle rhythm of checking temperatures. you wouldn't imagine the noise to settle into your bones like its their second home.
physically, you’re twenty now—still learning how to carry yourself like an adult, still counting semesters and credits. but mentally, you're still the same teenager from high school trying to find your place in this world.
the nurse's office of hanyang sports high school smells like antiseptic and sweat after a long day of patching students (sometimes teachers) up. the office sat right next to the school's main staircase, where the windows rattle every time students passed.
you do like the quiet moments when the nurse steps out for meetings, errands, or to deal with endless paperworks—and the office instantly becomes yours. just you, the hum of the ac, and the belief that being gentle to people can still be useful.
your thoughts were quickly interrupted when the door was roughly slid open, revealing a familiar figure dragging a student with him. you quickly recognized the figure to be coach ju, coach of the school's rugby team.
their voices rang instantly as they entered. coach ju's sounded intense and upset, and the boy's weak replies in a tone you could only sense as mild frustration.
you've heard about the miracle that happened to the rugby team just a year ago—how one match had saved the entire team from disbanding. it also earned their first win after almost a decade of their losing streak. it was astonishing, to say the least.
"i told you to not provoke him but—"
"well, he started first! he shouldn't say that unless he wants to—"
his words were cut off as coach ju grabbed him by the back of his jersey and pushed him towards the examination bed.
“sit. down.”
the boy stumbled forward, shoes scuffing against the floor and nearly knocking into the bed. he caught himself at the last second, jaw clenched and shoulders tight with barely restrained anger.
“i said i'm fine,” he snapped, trying to pull away. “it was nothing.”
but still coach ju doesn’t let go.
“nothing,” he repeats flatly, yanking him closer. “you got into a fight again. after i told you—what did i tell you?”
the boy looked away. “to ignore them.”
“did you?”
that question silenced him, and he didn't press on it any further.
you took a closer look at him and finally made out who he was—do hyeongsik, captain of the rugby team. you've seen him several times during monday assemblies but never actually interacted with him nor the rest of the team. you knew about his behaviour from the other teachers—"a hotheaded boy, undeserved of the captain title," you hear them describe him on one occasion.
upon observing him further, you noticed his broad shoulders, jersey smeared with dirt. his hair was damp with sweat and clung to his forehead—that's not the point though, the split on his lip that’s already swelling wasn't hard to go by unnoticed.
hyeongsik noticed you then.
his eyes flickered towards you, sharp and guarded. something in his expression faltered after.
you didn’t looked like a teacher nor a coach. you had a soft cardigan over your blouse, id lanyard hung slightly crooked and some loose baby hairs from being tied. you looked well put, the exact opposite of him.
“seunghee isn’t here?” coach ju asked, suddenly breaking the ice.
“she stepped out for a meeting,” you said quickly, bowing your head slightly. “that's what i'm here for. i can help.”
hyeongsik scoffed. “i don’t need help.”
coach ju shot him a glare. “you need to stop talking,” and turned back to you. “if you don’t mind.”
“not at all,” you replied, calm and steady.
coach ju crossed his arms, watching closely.
“well then, i’ll be outside. if he troubles you, just yell for me through the window.”
you laughed. "noted."
he then finally turned and left the room, the door slid shut behind him—leaving you and hyeongsik alone.
the office fell silent. for a moment, neither of you spoke until you moved to grab the necessary supplies. the boy carefully followed your movements like a hawk. you then set your supplies down after sitting at a nearby stool.
“can you tell me where it hurts?”
hyeongsik pursed his lips, then extended his bruised knuckles to you.
"lip. knuckles.”
you nodded and got to work immediately, cleaning the split on his lip first. your hands were warm, movements slow and precise. he braced for the pain that never comes. instead, there’s only a faint sting—barely enough to register—followed by something softer. your thumb steadied his chin without pressing as if you’re afraid of hurting him even more than he already has.
while you were focused on carefully cleaning his lip (and making sure it doesn't hurt as much), hyeongsik watched you in silence—eyes almost sparkling when you work on your fingers.
then you paused. he blinked.
“…that’s it?” he muttered.
you glanced up at him, amused. “did you want it to hurt?”
he scoffed quietly. “most people don’t care if it does.”
your brows knitted just slightly, but you didn’t comment on it. you finished cleaning the cut up, then reached for a small strip of sterile tape.
“hold still,” you said, voice low.
he does, completely still.
you leaned in again, close enough that he sees the faint crease between your brows when you focused and the way your lashes casted soft shadows against your cheeks. he realized distantly, that you smelt like soap and something floral—no overpowering smells, just clean and comforting.
when you pressed the tape into place, your fingers accidentally brushed his skin again. he swallowed thickly.
“okay,” you murmured. “that should heal nicely.”
you pulled back and only then did he realized how tense he’s been. his shoulders dropped slightly, breath leaving him in a slow exhale he didn’t know he was holding all this time.
your attention shifted to his hands. “now, let me see your knuckles.”
he hesitated for a second.
they were swollen—reddish with bruises already blooming beneath the skin. proof of his anger. proof of him losing control on the field.
slowly, he extended them toward you.
you cradled one hand gently, as if it’s fragile instead of dangerous. your fingers were smaller than his, but they're steady and confident in a way that didn't challenged him. you turned his hand slightly, examining each bruises and each shallow cut.
“this one’s going to be sore,” you said softly. “did you iced it?”
he shook his head. “didn’t have time.” which you could only hum in disapproval. there wasn't sharpness in it, only concern.
as you cleaned his knuckles, he flinched—just once, barely perceptible but you noticed immediately.
“sorry,” you said, pausing. “did i hurt you?”
he stiffened. "no.”
you didn’t argue. instead, you slowed down and adjusted your grip, using less pressure. your thumb traced a careful path around the bruise instead of over it, like you’re mapping something precious.
he continued to watch you. he watched the way you leaned closer without realizing, the way your lips pressed together when you concentrate. no one has treated his injuries like they mattered—even the nurse. usually it’s quick—rough hands, sharp words and reminders to toughen up.
but this was different.
“…you’re good at this,” he said quietly.
you smile at that, small and almost shy. “well, it's my job.”
he lets out a soft, breathless laugh. “yeah. i noticed.”
you finished wrapping his knuckles and securing the bandage snugly but not too tight.
“try not to use it too much,” you said. “and avoid hitting anything or anyone.”
his lips twitched. “i’ll try.”
you finally let his hand go.
he then cleared his throat, standing a little too quickly. “i, uh… thanks."
“anytime,” you replied easily.
as hyeongsik heads for the door, he paused, glancing back at you—really looking this time.
something in his chest ached, unfamiliar feelings.
you didn't know it yet, but this won’t be the last time he finds an excuse to get hurt.
and it definitely won’t be the last time he comes to see you.
you didn't notice it at first.
sure, the first time hyeongsik visited was an unfortunate accident, something that happened purely because he couldn't handle his temper.
but then the second visit came quickly—barely two days later but this time, with another bruised knuckle.
then again with a twisted ankle.
then again with a shallow cut on his forearm that doesn't quite line up with the story he tells you.
"and you're telling me i'm supposed to believe that happened?"
you said, looking at hyeongsik for the nth time that week. he had a huge shit-eating grin on his face like he had just accomplished his daily mission of hurting himself. "well, can you start? it's not gonna heal by itself."
you don’t call him out on it. not at first. but then the visits became more frequent to the point it was getting hard to miss and not because of some type of universal coincidence. that's what you keep telling yourself.
while you were still trying to convince yourself, the other's had started to notice it too.
“dude,” one of his teammates, juyang, said one day while leaning against the doorframe of the nurse’s office. “you get hurt a lot.” he had grown tired of his captain's dumb excuses of his injuries and decided upon himself to follow him straight to the office.
"seriously. you live here now?” another teammate, seonho joked.
hyeongsik shot them both a look and goes back to admiring you. you were quietly patching him up, as always. his teammates had caught up on what his true intentions were and even advised him to stop but him being himself, everyone knew he won't.
you knew you should stop too but deep down, you actually didn't seem to mind him at all.
seunghee, the school nurse sat at her desk looking more unimpressed than anything.
“hyeongsik," she said flatly. "if you’re going to keep this up then i will need to talk to coach ju.”
his eyes immediately snapped forward.
“what?” he said too fast. “why would you—”
“you’ve been here three times this week,” seunghee continued, unfazed. she then slid his medical chart a little closer to herself, tapping it with one finger. “and it’s only thursday!”
you froze mid-motion, cotton pad hovering just above his thigh.
“it’s rugby.”
“no,” she corrected again. “it’s you.”
the room fell quiet, saved for the faint buzzing of the lights overhead.
you slowly set the cotton down, suddenly very aware of your presence. hyeongsik noticed it too—his shoulders stiffened, and for the first time since he’d walked in, he didn’t meet your eyes.
seunghee leaned back in her chair. “i’m not stupid. neither is coach ju. you don’t get injured like this unless you’re either being reckless… or looking for an excuse.”
hyeongsik raised an eyebrow. “an excuse for what?”
her gaze flicked. it was brief but deliberate—unmistakably toward you.
you pretended not to notice, focusing on rewrapping the bandage instead.
hyeongsik’s ears burned. “that’s not—” he stopped himself before running a hand through his hair. “i’m not doing anything on purpose.”
seonho and juyang gave each other knowing looks across from him.
seunghee hummed skeptically. “then maybe you should start playing like a captain instead of a hotheaded senior.”
“…i'll be more careful next time,” he muttered.
“for your sake, i hope so,” seunghee said. “because if coach ju hears about this, he won’t be as gentle as i am.”
she waved her hand dismissively. “you’re done here. go.”
hyeongsik stood, hesitating. he glanced at you—just a quick look, almost apologetic.
"thanks,” he said softly. you smiled, the same way you always did. “take care, hyeongsik.”
with that, they left without another word.
seunghee watched for a moment before turning to you.
“you know he’s doing it on purpose, right?”
you simply blinked. “i—”
she sighed. “you’re too kind for your own good.” then, after a pause, her expression softened just a little. "just… don’t let him hurt himself trying to impress you.”
your cheeks warmed.
“i’m not—” you started, trying to explain the situation but the words fell apart before you could finish them.
seunghee smiled faintly, already reaching for the next file.
her words stayed with you longer than they should.
don’t let him hurt himself trying to impress you.
you told yourself seunghee was just exaggerating. hyeongsik was a rugby player—injuries come with the sport.
the next few days, you caught yourself listening more closely for heavy footsteps in the hallway. you glanced at the door whenever voices rose outside. you told yourself it’s habit.
then days passed and he still doesn’t come.
the nurse’s office felt strangely empty without him. without his sharp remarks, without the way his presence fills the room even when he says nothing. you never mentioned it. instead, you focused on your tasks, on the first-years with twisted ankles and the second-years with headaches from overtraining.
you’re wiping down the counter when seunghee clicks her tongue.
“coach ju finally got through to him, i guess.”
your hand stills. “got through?”
“he hasn’t been hurt,” she said. “or at least, not enough to end up here.”
you nodded. “that’s good.”
it is good.
so why does your chest felt a little tight?
when you see him again, it was on the day of the regional finals.
you’re assigned to medical support by the field, standing just beyond the sidelines with an emergency kit slung over your shoulder. the air was electric—students shouted, banners waved and whistles pierced through the noise.
hyeongsik stood at the center of it all.
captain’s armband snug around his arm, posture straight and his expression focused. he looked different somehow—steadier and calmer. when his eyes flicked toward the sidelines and landed on you, something soft flashed across his face before he went into seriousness.
your heart stuttered.
during the match, the rival team was ruthless.
you heard it even from where you stood—jeers hurled with precision, words meant to dig under skin.
“that's their captain?"
“overcompensating much?”
“try not to cry when you lose!”
you see it right then—the way his shoulders starts to tense. it would be dumb enough to not notice. for a terrifying second you thought he was going to snap, then he exhaled, slowly before turning away. the game continued.
hanyang won by a narrow margin, the final whistle swallowed by the roar of the crowd. his teammates swarmed him, shouting his name before dragging him into a pile of bodies and laughter.
you didn’t realize you’re smiling until your cheeks ached.
he found you right after the game.
not immediately though. he changed, showered and celebrated with the team. by the time he pushed open the door to the nurse’s office and sees you—putting back the supplies into their place. the field outside has quieted down and the sky had dimmed into evening.
he looked nervous, uninjured and whole—unlike him from all those times you patched him up.
that alone felt different.
“you didn’t come by,” you started gently, breaking the silence.
he huffed out a breath. “yeah.”
hyeongsik took a seat at the bed, more out of habit than necessity.
“i wanted to,” he admitted. “a few times.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “but i figured… if i kept showing up hurt, you’d think i wasn’t listening.”
you looked at him, surprised. "i would’ve thought you were human.”
he smiled faintly. then, a quieter, “i didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
your chest suddenly tightened.
“you weren’t,” you said honestly. “but i’m proud of you.”
he looked up at that, eyes searching your face like he’s checking for sincerity.
“…i thought about you,” he said. “every time they ran their mouths.” he laughed under his breath. “which is insane, by the way.”
“why?”
“because you weren’t even there half the time.” he took a deep breath before continuing. “but i kept hearing your voice. telling me to slow down.”
the heavy silence settled between you.
hyeongsik stood up, the bed creaking in the process.
“i graduate next week.”
“i know.”
“and after that,” he continued, words rushing now, “i won’t be allowed here anymore. not as a student. not as your patient.”
you nodded slowly.
he took a step closer.
“so,” he said, voice low, earnest, “when i don’t have an excuse to see you anymore—” he paused, inching closer to where you were. you kept still, your heart thumping against your own chest.
“—would you let me take you out?” he laughed nervously. “not as captain do. not as some injured idiot. just… me.”
the world seems to narrowed to the space between you two.
as a response, you smiled.
“i was wondering how long it’d take you to ask.”
his eyes widened almost instantly. “wait—really?”
you nodded. “really.”
relief crashed over his face, bright and unguarded. he laughed, a sound so genuine it makes your chest ache.
“…can i still call you noona though?” he asked, hopeful.
you raised a brow. “absolutely not.”
he grinned. “welp, worth a try.”
and for the first time, he didn't have to get an excuse to see you.
an awkward wave from you is all it takes for soocheol to come barging into your personal space, aka the piano room one late evening. from giving him small piano lessons (with him messing up badly), to a first kiss that might change your whole dynamic.
in which yeonggwang nearly confesses to his crush—you, also known as the captain of the aerobics team—only to panic and blurt out a random vending machine fact instead. teased endlessly by his friends but encouraged by your nice response, he realizes that sometimes awkward moments can lead to something unexpectedly sweet.
seo myeongu ꩜ .ᐟ
nothing yet.
do hyeongsik ꩜ .ᐟ
★ love and bandages.
when you—a college student-turned nurse’s assistant at hanyang high school discovers a pattern of patching up the same person over and over again—do hyeongsik, the rugby team’s hotheaded captain with bruised knuckles and an even worse temper. what started as “accidents” turned into silly excuses, and a boy learning how to slow down instead of fighting. as graduation approaches and injuries stop being a reason to meet, he realizes he doesn’t want to see you because he’s hurt—he wants to see you because of you.
seeing a winning try fic in this drought actually feels like seeing the light .. and then finding out u write for whc and nhc too .. UR LITERALLY THE GOAT 🥹🥹 pocket locket is so fire pls keep writing more when u can and feed blr bc of how little drama fics there are 💔💔
rs man, im getting bored of reading the same fics over and over again 💔 tysm for the compliment btw!! now that im on my break, i can finally get my ass on that laptop and cook smth new for u guys 😭😭
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 . . . ★ oh yeonggwang (the winning try) x gymnast!reader
𝙬𝙘 . . . ★ 2k
𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 . . . ★ fluff, romance
𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 . . . ★ in which yeonggwang nearly confesses to his crush—you, also known as the captain of the aerobics team—only to panic and blurt out a random vending machine fact instead. teased endlessly by his friends but encouraged by your nice response, he realizes that sometimes awkward moments can lead to something unexpectedly sweet.
𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙥 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 . . .★ just finished the winning try and immediately ran to tumblr to read fics just to find out theres NONE. guess its up to me to write one hyeongsik might be next!
yeonggwang liked to think of himself as a patient guy.
most things barely gets on his nerves—atleast, that’s what he told himself. except for the time seonho ate the food he was saving for later. or when hyeongsik returned his headphones cracked clean in half after getting ragebaited by some random player online.
fine, maybe his patience wasn’t as high as he liked to believe.
still, yeonggwang tried his best to stay out of trouble. he kept his head down, followed instructions and focused on training but that got difficult real fast when the aerobics team was suddenly standing right in front of them, arms crossed, faces showing clear resentment.
the expressions was a result to the decision the principal had made—to switch their coaches until further notice. this was a decision completely out of their control. they too, were a victim of it without the latter realizing.
“rugby,” one of the gymnasts scoffed, tilting his head with a tight smile. “you guys are seriously something else. first you take our spot, now you’re taking our coach too?”
the air suddenly shifted. yeonggwang felt it before he saw it—the subtle tightening of shoulders beside him and the way seongjun’s jaw clenched just a second too long.
seongjun, their captain who had been quiet all this time, finally took a step forward towards the gymnast.
that’s when yeonggwang knew his patience was about to be tested for real.
“we didn’t take anything,” seongjun calmly said. the gymnast grinned in fake amusement. “is that so?”
seongjun didn’t look away. “the coaches made their decision. if you've got a problem, take it up with them, not us.”
a few murmurs could be heard between the aerobics team. the gymnast's grin fades quickly as it appeared on his face.
“easy for you to say,” he shot back. “you’re the ones benefiting.”
seongjun’s expression hardened—not angry, but still sharp. “you think we asked for this?” he replied. “we train just as hard as you do. don't act like we’re stealing something that was never ours to begin with.”
for a moment, no one spoke—until the gymnast started stepping closer, close enough that yeonggwang could smell the sharp tang of sweat and chalk.
"funny,” he said. “because from my perspective, it looks like the rugby team always gets what they want.”
seongjun stayed where he stood. instead, he leaned in just enough to make his point clear.
“then maybe you should try surviving our training before saying that.”
the gymnast shoved seongjun’s shoulder, not hard but hard enough for him to stumble onto yeonggwang's chest. his hands were quick to catch him as he helped seongjun get back on his feet.
“back off." yeonggwang stepped in, voice stern and eyes so sharp it could cut through trees.
“don't act so tough.”
“touch him again and see what happens.”
“you still think you’re better than us?”
a hand suddenly fisted into yeonggwang's jersey. it felt like a silent war between him and the gymnast. it was only a matter of time before one of them snaps.
that was when a voice cut through the noise—quiet but firm.
“enough!”
everyone turned their heads around to see you, hands carrying rolled up mats. you had just came back after meeting with your coach. barely 15 minutes had passed and you came back to this?
“that’s enough,” you repeated, sharper this time.
“ingu, do you want us to get suspended?”
“but captain, they started it—”
“i don’t care,” you replied flatly.
your gaze moved to yeonggwang, steady and unreadable but not hostile.
“same with you,” you added. “let go.”
the gymnast finally released his grip, leaving yeonggwang’s jersey all crumpled up. his hands dropping to his sides. the tension didn’t dissapear but it loosened.
you exhaled slowly before speaking again, voice quieter but no less firm.
“this wasn’t their fault,” you said, addressing your team. “we’re angry, i get it. but starting a fight isn’t going to fix anything.”
no one argued.
yeonggwang watched you as you turned, gesturing for your team to move. you led them away without another glance, footsteps measured and controlled like you had done this a million times before.
it was only before you entered the building did you paused.
you looked back at him. once.
your eyes met with yeonggwang’s for a split second.
the moment was short but somehow it felt like an eternity.
he felt his chest tightened, heat creeping up his neck. he looked away too fast, heart racing like he’d been caught doing something wrong. even when he didn’t.
when they were sure the aerobics team had all disappeared (including you) did all of them let out an exhale.
“that was close,” myeongu muttered under his breath.
yeonggwang barely heard him and the others after that.
during their “training” with coach bang, his mind couldn’t help but stuck on the way you stepped in without hesitation. the way you looked at them not with resentment, but responsibility. the way you always did. patient, that is.
maybe that’s why he thinks of you differently (maybe highly too) than the other gymnasts he met. maybe that’s why you were the captain—because you deserved it.
later that night, he was halfway through convincing himself to stop replaying the moment earlier when he saw you. he felt like a highschool girl having a crush.
as he was heading back to his dorm alone, he spotted you on the benches outside the school entrance. your legs were tucked up as you stared at the ground like you were lost in thought.
yeonggwang was hesitant of approaching you at first, not wanting to bother you but his legs betrayed him. instead, it brought him straight to where you were sitting.
you glanced up, sensing him before he even made it.
“oh, you’re still here?” you asked.
he nodded too quickly for his liking. “yeah. i mean—yeah. left something at the gym.” you let out a small chuckle.
“also, thanks for earlier.” he added.
you smiled, small but tired. “someone had to stop it before it escalates. don’t want this school to catch a case again.” you emphasized the last word as if to make a point.
you turned back to the field and continued whatever you were doing before.
there was a pause. it wasn’t awkward, just quiet.
“you can sit if you want.” you finally said, eyes closed to enjoy the cool air of the night.
he then sat, careful to leave some respectful amount of space between you two. yeonggwang shut down his urges telling him to sit closer. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the distant hum of the streetlight at night.
“weren’t you scared?” he suddenly asked, glancing at you.
you hummed.
“i’m used to it. ingu is always up in someone’s faces like it’s a hobby—besides someone had to do it.”
yeonggwang smiled without realizing it.
“that’s very… you.”
you finally opened your eyes, amused at his words. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
he hesitated, fingers playing with the hem of his sleeves. “just—you always look out for other people. even when it’s inconvenient.”
your expression softened. “you… notice stuff like that?”
his heart skipped a beat.
“hard not to.” he admitted.
there was another pause, but it felt heavier. the bench suddenly felt too small like it had suddenly shrunk twice its size.
you swung your legs slightly. “but you were really calm back there. i thought rugby guys were supposed to be hotheaded.”
yeonggwang laughed, surprised by how easy this felt. “i try not to be. it doesn’t always work.”
“i think you did fine.” you said.
he swallowed. this was it. he could feel it—something sitting right on his tongue, pressing against his ribs. this is the perfect time to tell her.
he called your name and you let out a small noise, letting him know you’re still listening even without moving your head.
“actually, there’s something i’ve been wanting to—” he started. it started well untill you fully turned to him.
the words stalled.
yeonggwang stared at the ground instead, heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. if he said it now, things will change. he wasn’t sure if he was brave enough for that.
“..say?” you prompted him gently.
his brain shortcircuited as he thought of every possible, appropriate response to this. the confession suddenly thrown out of the invisible window.
“i—did you know,” he blurted out, “that the vending machine near the stairs sometimes eats coins but only on tuesdays…?”
silence.
you blinked. once. then twice.
“what?”
yeonggwang suddenly wished the ground would just open up and swallow him whole right there.
“i mean—” he scrambled, face heating up. “just—because earlier when we were training—i noticed and—yeah.” he gave up.
you stared at him for a second longer.
then you laughed. a real, genuine laugh.
“that’s… new.” you said, smiling at him.
he rubbed the back of his neck. “i don’t know why i said that.”
“it’s kind of cute,” you admitted.
his heart stopped.
“i should go.” he said, quickly standing up and stumbling slightly in the process as if things couldn’t get any worse. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”
“goodnight, yeonggwang,” you said, still smiling.
“goodnight.”
he walked away at record speed.
he didn’t realize the way your eyes followed him until his figure dissapeared into the building.
“i like you too.” you muttered quietly to no one in particular.
yeonggwang gently closed the door to their shared dorm, not realizing two quiet pairs of eyes staring at his every move. the embarassing moment replayed itself in his head as he moved and dropped himself to the bed.
“yo vending machine guy,” a voice above him called out.
he froze, and slowly he sat up.
he saw myeongu sitting crosslegged on his bed, phone in hand, a grin on his face. seongjun sat beside him, arms crossed, eyes bright with barely contained amusement.
“..don’t even.” yeonggwang warned weakly.
“oh come onnnnnn” myeongu laughs. “i didn’t even say anything yet.”
“you don’t have to,” yeonggwang replied, rubbing his temples. “i can already hear it.” seongjun tilted his head. “so it’s true?” he asked casually.
yeonggwang blinked. “is.. what true?”
“what he meant to ask was instead of confessing,” myeongu continued, “you gave her some really helpful tips about our school’s vending machine—and on TUESDAYS?” he added loudly, almost waking up the sleeping mun ung.
yeonggwang immediately hid his face into his pillow. “dude stop i panicked.”
“no, you malfunctioned,” myeongu corrected him. “just like the vending machine.” both him and seongjun snorted at his joke.
yeonggwang groaned into his pillow, a muffled ‘i hate you guys’ could be heard.
myeongu wiped the imaginary tears from his eyes.
“but she laughed,” yeonggwang muttered. “like—really laughed.”
both of them suddenly paused.
seongjun’s teasing expression softened just a bit. “yeah?”
yeonggwang rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “yeah. she didn’t think it was weird.”
myeongu hummed thoughtfully. “that’s… actually a good sign.”
“wait, really?” yeonggwang asked, a glint of hope creeping in despite himself.
seongjun nodded. “well, if she didn’t like you, she would’ve left which i would too, to be honest—“
“is this your way of payback after your “synergy” moment with ujin? atleast i didn’t get rejected.”
“…shut up.”
yeonggwang’s phone suddenly lights up with a new notification.
“ooh, must be her.” myeongu said. “next time you see her, you say, ‘oh by the way, i like you—but also the vending machine is working again.’”
seongjun shook his head, as the boy laughed more to himself. “ignore him.”
yeonggwang let out a small laugh, tension finally easing from his chest. maybe he hadn’t completely ruined everything after all.
he froze again. it was a text from you.
myeongu leaned forward, trying to peek at his phone. seongjun raised an eyebrow. “is it?”
yeonggwang grabbed his phone, heart hammering.
[your name] : i checked. it really DID eat my coins before.
he stared long at the screen, then smiled.
“..guys,” he said quietly, thumbs still hovering over the keyboard, “i think i’m not doomed.”
myeongu beamed. “congrats vending machine guy, you just earned your second chance.”
yeonggwang typed back, his nerves buzzing—but this time, smiling instead of panicking.
