NOMAD AS ROMANCE TROPES
genre. fluff. angst. headcanons. warnings. toxic friends in doy's part. jiwon's is pretty angsty + alcohol mention. slightly angsty in rivr's?? playful bullying in junho's. junho's was written first so it's slightly different than the rest and i'm too lazy to rewrite it to match so just ignore that. not proofread. pairing. nomad x fem!reader (separate). wc. 3.3k. (600-700 per member). request. no. a/n. been cooking this up for a while and i'm pretty happy with how it game out hehe :D (literally just written for @eternalgyu basically cause who else is reading for nomad). net. @kstrucknet @chrimatanet
HONG DOEUI ﾐ ENEMIES TO LOVERS + CONTRACT RELATIONSHIP
“How much are you going to pay me to pretend to be your boyfriend?” Doeui asked with his arms crossed, teasing you with a lift of his eyebrow. He knew he was in the better position, and he revelled in seeing you embarrassed and having to beg for his help.
Maybe you shouldn’t have lied saying you were dating a guy for over a year now to your friends. And maybe you should have found some other person to fill in, but the truth was, you didn’t know anyone you could ask other than Doeui. Sure, you hated the fact that he knew almost all your secrets, and there were no fond feelings you kept towards the guy. But he knew your boundaries and respected them, unlike other past ‘friends’. Whatever dirt he had on you, he had enough decency to make sure it never spilled past his lips.
“100,000 won per day. Every time you piss me off, a deduction of 20,000. Okay?”
The corner of his lip jumped up, a self-satisfied smirk taking over his features, “Make it 150,000.”
“Deal.”
God, what had you gotten yourself into?
Although you spent 3 days regretting and dreading your decision, on the first day of the contract, Doeui showed up right on time. Instead of his usual zip-up hoodies and beanies, he had adorned a simple cardigan and jeans. His earrings, rings, and chains were all gone, and even his hair was styled neatly. When you questioned him about it, he just gave you a shrug and a slight smile.
“Thought I could sell the act better if I didn’t look like a jerk.”
“Oh, so you admit that you did before?”
“You hated when I dressed like that, and that’s why I did it.” His eyes stared at you as the words fell from his mouth, and something twisted in your chest at the look he gave you.
Something about hearing that he thought about you enough to know about what would make you pissed and what you liked. As stupid as it sounded, no one had given you that much thought before. Even your friends who you got into this contractional mess for didn’t think about you that much. You knew they weren’t good people to hang around. You knew that deep down, they would drop you in half a second if they got tired of you. But you were scared of losing the only people you had in your life, even if they weren’t truly there for you. You didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t want to feel like an outcast again.
The meeting with your friends went well. They seemed impressed that you could actually pull someone like Doeui. If they knew you were lying, they would definitely drop you in an instant. It took an uncomfortable amount of convincing for them to believe that he was actually in love with you. Kissing him in front of your friends was awkward.
Not really the kissing part, but the watching. Something about Doeui’s lips felt right. You wished you didn’t have 5 pairs of watchful eyes on you the entire time. You couldn’t memorize the feeling of his skin when you were so aware of the gazes on you two.
A week went by and the same routine stayed. 150,000 left your bank per day, just as you had promised. Each day, you found yourself trying to delay meeting up with your friends, if only to spend just another few minutes alone with Doeui. It was becoming clearer that something had switched. The man who used to piss you off was the very same one who provided you with any comfort.
He seemed to catch onto you although you had tried to hide it for a while. And when he asked you to tell him the truth, you found yourself spilling all your feelings without a second thought. Your fears, your doubts, your secrets. He knew them all by the end of it. But unlike your fake friends who would’ve surely laughed in your face, he soothed you with a kiss and promises that you knew held a weight you could rely on.
PARK SANGHA ﾐ CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS
“Remember our first day of middle school?” You ask while staring at the ceiling. The break between each sentence was so quiet you could hear every breath Sangha took. But it was comfortable. Everything felt like home when you were with him.
“Yeah?”
“I was so anxious that you wouldn’t be in the same class section as me. I almost cried looking at the list of names cause I missed yours the first time I looked at it.” You giggled, reminiscing about your childhood.
“You know I’d always find a way to be with you in class.” Sangha stated as a fact, rolling his eyes playfully. He shifted over to his side, cheek squished against the pillow. Your gaze fell to look at him, eyes meeting halfway. You both giggled.
It had been so long since you had a sleepover like this. They were almost every other night during elementary, and still at least once a week during middle school. You were always inseparable. High school was hard on you both, but you got through it together.
“Remember when you forced me to do a scary movie marathon with you on Halloween?” He smiled.
You grinned, “How could I ever forget that? You screamed like a teenage girl and hugged me the entire time.”
“It was scary!”
“It was literally Coraline.”
“So?! I kept thinking about buttons getting sewn on my eyes.” He shuddered and you let out another laugh, wrapping the blanket tighter over your body.
It was a bit chilly, and you were ever aware of the heat radiating off of Sangha’s body. It was just slightly too far away for you to benefit from, though. As Sangha continued rambling about horror films and his squeamishness towards the genre, you could only focus on the chill that ran up your spine and how you wish you were wrapped up in his arms instead of the blanket.
That was weird. You had never wanted to cuddle with Sangha before. Sure, he was your best friend and you loved him, but you barely ever hugged him.
“Are you shivering? I told you to turn up the thermostat.” Sangha laughed, pulling on your arm. “Here, you can leech off of my warmth.”
Your eyes widened as he wrapped his arms around you, the chill immediately fading as you felt his body warmth. You shifted, head resting on his arm like a pillow. His face was close to you, and the blanket comfortably rested over both of you.
You’d never been this close to him.
“Thanks.” You said quietly, gulping down a nervous lump in your throat. He was so pretty up close. Was he always this pretty?
He was your best friend— you shouldn’t be feeling nervous around him. You grew up with him. But you hadn’t been this close in years, and it was starting to affect you all too quickly. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, and it had your heart racing a mile a minute.
“Still cold?”
You shook your head slowly, feeling quite the opposite temperature you had a minute ago. You could feel heat creeping up your neck and spreading to your cheeks.
“This feels… different.” You mustered your voice, although it still came out in a hesitant whisper.
“Do you not like it?” Sangha questioned, loosening his arms around you.
“No, I like it.” You caught his wrist before he could pull back from you completely, guiding it back to your waist. He breathed out, a smile growing on his lips.
“I think I like you, you know.” His words were soft and sweet. You could feel the honesty in them. Of course, Sangha would never lie to you. You smiled, and despite your racing heart, you leaned in to press your lips to his.
It definitely wasn’t what you had originally planned to happen on your first sleepover with your best friend in almost 2 years, but you couldn’t say you were disappointed with the results. He wasn’t just confined to that label anymore either, and now you could proudly call him your boyfriend.
KIM JIWON ﾐ FALLBACK
Jiwon knew that he was your second choice. Someway or another, there always seemed to be a reason you wouldn’t choose him. He was tired of it. Tired of being thrown around and played with. Tired of being used when you needed it and discarded when you were done. He knew you were bad for him, but he couldn’t find a way to leave you for good.
His heart betrayed him, racing whenever he heard your voice, throwing all logic and sense out the window. He went through the same cycle, convincing himself that he needed to leave you, that you were no good for him. But he always failed. All you had to do was look into his eyes, ask him to stay, and he would.
It was another one of those nights, where you had crashed at his place after another fight with your ex-boyfriend. You’d probably still choose your ex over him given the choice, wouldn’t you? He wished that he could say he wouldn’t choose staying with you over leaving, but that would be a lie. He was too hung up on the what if’s, dreaming about what could be instead of facing reality.
He rinsed a washcloth under the sink in the bathroom, making sure the temperature was cold. Wringing it out, he shuffled back to the couch where you were passed out. You had shown up drunk, Jiwon could tell that much, and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the armrest.
He placed the cool cloth on your forehead, adjusting a blanket over your frame with a sigh. What was he doing? Why was he caring for you so gently when you would just leave him when the morning came? He took a seat on the floor beside you, staring at your sleeping face as a million thoughts ran through his head. The answer to his questions stared right at him. He was still too in love with you to let you go. The pain you made him go through was incomparable to the pain of letting you go. He wasn’t strong enough to live his life without you in it.
God, he knew it sounded beyond pathetic.
You woke up a few hours later. Your earlier headache from the alcohol had subsided. As you sat up slowly, taking in the sight of Jiwon’s apartment, you felt a pang in your chest. You always ended up here when something went wrong. Because you knew Jiwon would make things feel right again. Deep down, you knew it was wrong for you to keep relying on him. What was he even getting in return?
“You’re awake.”
Your eyes flicked up to his frame, standing in the kitchen, filling a glass with water. You forced the lump in your throat down as he walked over to you and gave you the glass.
“I’m sorry.” The words fell from your lips before Jiwon could say anything. You looked up to his face, eyes glossy with regret, “To make you have to work so much— I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t.
“He’s not good for you.” Jiwon said, looking at your tired eyes.
“You don’t have to remind me of that.” You whispered quietly, guilt drowning your frame. You sipped the water, trying to ignore the uncomfortable tension that had settled in the room.
“Do you still love him?”
“I don’t know how to stop loving him.” You said honestly.
Jiwon's eyes fell. Everything made sense— he understood it all too well. How could he sit there and tell you what to do when he couldn’t even take his own advice? He didn’t know how to stop loving either.
SHIN KANGSU ﾐ RIGHT PERSON, WRONG TIME
You missed Kangsu. So badly. Every night you spent alone in your bed, surrounded by the empty walls that used to hold memories of him, you missed him more. Your breakup hadn’t ended on bad terms, which, ironically, made everything worse.
You were just in different stages of life. A relationship wasn’t sustainable in the midst of graduating university and finding your dream career. While you were burdened with the stress of endless choices, Kangsu was struggling with rejection and finding himself. You knew that had you continued your relationship, the turbulence would’ve turned into countless fights and a worse breakup in the end.
But you still believed that Kangsu was the one for you. He felt so right. And you would give anything to have him back now that your life was more stable. You still had his number, although you were afraid to call. You had both promised to cut off contact so you could focus on yourselves. Were you in a good position to ask him to come back? What if he wasn’t ready? What if he didn’t want to? What if he had found someone else?
While you were busy overthinking it, staring at his contact with the old contact photo and heart that you had never deleted from his name, you accidentally pressed the call button. He picked up after the first 2 rings.
“Y/n?”
“Kangsu?” His name felt like deja vu on your tongue. You had repeated it so many times in your head, but saying it out loud brought you back to 3 years ago.
“Why’d you call?”
You closed your eyes, hearing his soft voice root itself in your head, sure to not leave your mind for the next week.
“I miss you.” There was no need to lie or pretend like you didn’t. You had always been honest with Kangsu. He never judged you, so there was never a need to conceal yourself or your feelings.
“Really?”
The small lilt in his tone made a flurry of butterflies rush to your stomach. A need to know everything that had happened in his life over the past years invaded your entire body. Before you knew it, you were standing up from your bed and shuffling to put your shoes on.
“Really.”
“Are you free?”
You hummed in affirmation.
“30 minutes, our spot… Okay?”
“Okay.” You slipped on your coat and opened the front door, hearing similar shuffling from the other side of the phone. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if it would sound too desperate, but in the end you decided you didn’t care. “I need to see you.”
There was a pause on Kangsu’s end, as he took in the yearning of your voice. “You’ll see me. I’ll be there, I promise.”
The 30 minutes spent getting to the park that you used to spend every evening at with Kangsu was both fast and slow at the same time. Impatient, anxious, worried, bittersweet; you couldn’t place exactly what you were feeling. You wanted to be back in his arms, the place you craved for years after you broke up.
You found him sitting on the bench you always sat at, staring at the little bridge running over a small pond. When he saw you, he stood up instantly, eyes glued to your figure.
He looked different. A good different. You could see the confidence in his face and more wisdom in his eyes. He seemed sure of himself just by the way he held his head on his shoulders. You could tell from just a look that the years apart had been well worth it. He had needed it, and now an even better version of him was facing you.
He pulled you into his arms before you could even run to them, and it all felt the same. His arms wrapped around your body, squeezing you gently. Your perfume hitting his nose, intoxicating his brain with everything he missed about you.
“I missed you.” His earnest words flooded your heart and you buried your head into his chest. Right person, right time.
JEONG JUNHO ﾐ ANNOYANCES TO LOVERS
Junho was always like a splinter in your finger, a pebble in your shoe, or a stitch in your side. Annoying, but never harmful enough to do any real damage. You both messed with each other for your own entertainment, only because he was the oldest friend you knew.
He was easy to play bully when you were younger. He was always shorter than you, with a wimpier frame and a squeakier voice. As six year olds, your harmless bickering and teasing never cut too deep. You’d make fun of each other’s toys in elementary school, or your outfits in middle. You groaned in annoyance whenever you were paired together for projects, spending the whole time bickering and ending up getting a low grade for it.
By high school, you teased each other for getting a low score on a test, competing to see who would place lower in the class ranking (not that either of you were in the running for the top spots). But you both still ended up sitting together in the canteen when you found yourself friendless the first week. Junho was the only familiar person around you, despite the less than friendly dynamic you shared. While you certainly still bickered and annoyed each other, you could barely throw the low blows you used to.
Puberty had hit Junho like a truck, gracing him with a tall muscular figure, and a much deeper voice. You could truthfully only admire how he had come into his own. But that didn’t mean you would stop getting a reaction out of him, although you couldn’t ignore how a certain fondness was starting to grow in your heart for him.
When you joined the soccer team, he showed up to practice to laugh whenever you tripped over your own two feet, only for him to be the same person to walk you to the nurse’s office. When he joined musical theater, you made fun of him whenever he was off-key, only to bring him flowers after his first show as the lead role.
Your quick comebacks to his every teasing remark was a sense of familiarity that he didn’t want to lose. When feelings got into the mix with your regular banter was something neither you or Junho could pinpoint. What you did know is at some point, your eye rolls held all the fondness in the world and your playful smacks on the shoulder were a bit softer than usual. At some point, a sense of pride flooded your body when you looked at Junho and his accomplishments, and you started to voice how proud you were of him.
Whether small pats on the shoulder or tousling his hair (if you could reach), the message seemed to get across to him. The boy you had known since you were little had grown into the man you wanted to be beside you for the rest of your life. Him asking you out officially one late night on a walk surprised neither of you. You knew the feelings had been mutual for a while.
The shift to dating was natural as well. Maybe you were both a bit more caring and attentive than before. You were no longer too shy to hold his hand whenever you wanted (nor did you dismiss the thought whenever it came up, under the delusion that you could never like someone as annoying as Junho). He no longer debated whether bending down to kiss you was overstepping the boundaries of friendship (he had long since lost the war of fighting how much he adored you). But poking fun at each other would always be your love language, and that was a reality you were both more than content with.
↳ nomad taglist: @eternalgyu,, @hursheys
