dom sungho ⟢ who punishes you by making you ride his thigh, fingering your cunt and stopping just as your about to cum while spanking you-- making sure you'll never forget to follow the rules again <3
dom sungho ⟢ using you like a toy
sub sungho ⟢ dressing your pretty boy up and teaching him how to ride a dildo, what he doesn't know is your training him to take your strap <3
sub sungho ⟢ rocking into your hand as you pump him, his pretty clothes half off
riwoo
dom riwoo ⟢ cunt slaps <3
sub riwoo ⟢ who only wears his thigh highs when he wants you to peg him stupid
bunny hybrid!sub riwoo ⟢ poor little bunny humping the air while his owner laughs and films him :(
jaehyun
sub jaehyun ⟢ stupid mutt tried going outside on his own today, so you leashed him up and pumped him dumb
bp!sub jaehyun ⟢ when given the signal, jaehyun wastes no time humping your thigh like a bitch in heat
masochist!sub!jaehyun ⟢ hashtag that awkward moment when playing a kinky couples card game turns into you stepping on your subs cock !
taesan
dom taesan ⟢ he knows your horny. and he doesn't care. he's going to cum, and you're gonna stand there and help like a good girl.
dom taesan ⟢ teasing your sensitive nipples
sub taesan ⟢ in his pretty pearly lingerie, you've been edging taesan for hours... even the smallest touch to his cock makes him arch his back up and whine into the air. maybe you'll stop soon, maybe you won't !
sub taesan ⟢ pouncing on your sub as soon as he comes home from work-- you could care less about the kind of day he had, or if he's tired.
leehan
sub leehan ⟢ is such a squirmer for his mommy
sub brat leehan ⟢ who caused so much trouble for you that you had to call in back up!
sub leehan ⟢ who loves when you play with him in his pajamas
HAAAPPY HALLOWEEEEEN ! ~ 🍈
halloween is the one night a year a girl can goon to boynextdoor nsfw links and nobody is allowed to judge ~ 🍓
⦂ 𓈃 warnings/tags: suggestive themes, teasing, mild frustration/anger kink, light bratty reader, heavy sexual tension, physical intimacy, forehead/neck/lip kisses, possessive touches ⦂ 𓈃 word count: 677
ෆ ･ m.list! . ↳ join taglist!
sungho: he’s lowkey into it. like you’re standing there all flustered, arms crossed, giving him attitude over something small, and he’s fighting back a grin the whole time. “you’re really mad about that?” he teases, voice dipping just enough to make your stomach flip. when you roll your eyes and tell him yes, he steps closer, backing you into the counter. “then maybe you should punish me, huh?” and suddenly his hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing slow, lazy circles while his eyes drag down to your lips. it’s not even an apology anymore. it’s him trying to distract you, whispering, “still mad?” right before his mouth brushes your neck.
riwoo: he gets flustered as hell. you’re glaring at him and he’s stammering out, “i- i didn’t mean to-” like a kicked puppy. he’ll follow you around the room, trying to explain himself, but the more annoyed you act, the redder he gets. “you look kinda hot when you’re mad, though,” he mumbles without thinking, and immediately regrets it when you shoot him a look. cue him panicking and then shyly offering to “make it up to you somehow,” his voice tiny and hopeful. if you keep ignoring him, he’ll end up wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and whispering, “please don’t be mad anymore, baby…”
jaehyun: you being mad over something small just amuses him. he leans back in his chair, arms crossed, watching you rant like it’s the best entertainment he’s had all day. “you’re cute when you’re mad,” he says with a smirk that makes you want to throw something. he’ll drag out his apology on purpose, just to see how long you’ll stay pissed. when you huff and turn away, he’ll stand, come up behind you, and murmur, “didn’t mean to make my girl all worked up,” lips ghosting over your ear. his hands slide to your waist, grip tightening just enough to make you gasp. “maybe i should remind you how good i am at saying sorry.”
taesan: he gets so defensive at first, acting all cocky to hide that he feels bad. “you’re mad about that?” he laughs, but it’s nervous. when you ignore him, he gets quiet, hovering nearby like a guilty puppy. eventually he mutters a soft “okay, fine, i’m sorry,” and tugs you closer by your wrist. once you’re facing him, though, his tone shifts- softer, deeper. “don’t pout like that. it makes me wanna…” he trails off, letting his thumb brush over your lower lip. then he chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours. “maybe i’ll kiss it better?” and before you can respond, he does. slow, teasing, dragging the apology out between every breath.
leehan: he tries to reason with you at first, all calm and logical, but when you’re still mad, his patience melts into something darker. “you’re really gonna give me that attitude over this?” he murmurs, stepping closer until you’re caged between him and the wall. his voice drops low, his gaze lingering on your mouth. “you know i can’t take you seriously when you’re pouting like that.” it’s not that he’s ignoring your anger. he’s just turned it into something else entirely, something charged. one hand cups your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up. “say it again. tell me why you’re mad.” and when you do, he just smiles. slow, dangerous and says, “mm. that’s cute.”
woonhak: he’s a mix of shy and bold. first he’s apologizing nonstop, trying to explain himself, but when you keep huffing and ignoring him, he changes tactics. suddenly he’s pulling you close by your wrist, eyes glinting a little mischievously. “you’re mad at me, huh?” he whispers, voice lower than usual. he leans in until your noses almost touch, grinning when you try to back away. “you don’t look that mad now.” he’d brush his lips over your cheek, just barely. not quite a kiss, but enough to make you pause. “forgive me?” he’d ask, all innocent, but his fingers are already tracing down your waist like he knows you’re not really mad anymore.
masterlist. taglist. ☆ written with love. by, 𝓀𝖺𝗍𝗂.
“how have i never done this before!” a whispered yell echoes into sungho’s ears, your sweet voice glimmering as you swipe yet another lipstick on his hand. there are way too many colors all over his skin, and at some point, you simply decided that instead of trying out what you want for yourself, you couldn’t resist painting him like your very own canvas.
in the few minutes you both have been perusing the makeup section of the store he drove you both to, as per your request (something about not having the right shade of concealer and running out of your favorite lip gloss?), your boyfriend has simply let you do as you please. he can’t deny you, especially not after allowing you to do it in the first place, but... he sort of regrets it now.
“ah… there’s no more space here,” you pout, putting down his hand that you both have been watching get makeup put upon. but before you could bring up the other, sungho’s resistance shone through.
“isn’t one enough… how am i gonna take it all off baby?”
at that, your lips pucker tighter, brows sewing together in defiance as you turn around, leaving him standing in his spot. a quick second after the words leave his mouth, he realizes he can’t take it back anymore as he follows you. it’s a busy store, and you both can barely talk because the only sounds that can be heard are the clatter of the plastics and glass—as if it was some sort of cosmetic library.
"i'm sor—" sungho has to swerve past an incoming cart before he could finish the sentence, trying his hardest to keep up behind you. it's not tough to find you, but man you walk fast when you're upset (you're not). he should've known that when he said what he did, even if he didn't mean it that way.
another couple steps closer to you, and right as he's about to apologize, you turn the other way to the hair section, not particularly interested in anything as your eyes scan the colorful bottles of hair spray up and down. he's practically running after you, holding onto the basket, careful not to bump it into any of the shelves he passes by during his pursuit.
you're waiting, letting him catch up behind you, before continuing to some other part of the store. it's not very big, dedicated to providing all sorts of beauty products that could ever be needed. so from hair, you go over to perfumes, at the very opposite side.
and sungho? he's still behind you. several pairs of eyes stare at him as he gets the employees and even other fellow customers to get annoyed by his incessant walk. it's obvious why to him among the gossiping chatter at a volume 1-2 (on a scale of 10; that's how he decided to categorize it right at this very moment)—"of course he would've said something to annoy her", "this isn't a gym to practice running in", "is he in his right mind?"—but sungho couldn't care less what others thought. his mind is on you.
after getting closer again, your boyfriend shouts (well, as loud as he could given the environment... maybe a volume level of 4?), "y/n!" you innocently turn around eyeing at him, keeping that same expression you had on when you started this cat-and-mouse chase. it turned funny for you by the time you decided to go to the hair section, but you couldn't show it right now.
"finally," sungho puts the basket down and traps you between his arms and the shelves lined with full size bottles of floral scents. startled, your eyes widen as you look at him, and from your peripheral, an employee making her way to you.
(at a volume 2) "i'm sorry, ok? i didn't mean that. you have full permission to use my hands and arms, and my shoulders and neck and body and every and any part of me as you wish, hm? i'll stay painted in your colors forever if that's what you want. so please, accept my apology?"
while biting your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling, you couldn't help but feel the butterflies dance within your body. you push him away slightly so you could get out of his grasp, not saying a word and taking his blank hand in yours. leading the way back to where the makeup was, you both escape from the one lady who was just about to break you both away.
and instead of telling him a yes or no, you grab the closest tester blush and drew a heart right below a knuckle in the hand you held.
ON&ON'S NEWEST EP ! You and Sungho are well known for being enemies despite being in the same band. After being constantly shipped by the public eye, the two of you stopped interacting with one another, causing your band’s sales to drop drastically. Ten months later, your company decides to propose an idea—fake date each other to bring your profits back up. Anything to not go bankrupt, right?
OR IN WHICH . . . Former enemies turned into ( fake ) lovers was a propaganda everyone fell for, including the enemies in question.
PR STUNTS ⟢ enemy!sungho x enemy-f!reader ( ft. jaehee from nct wish moka from illit @himewonu as herself @miumura as herself @modanisgf as herself @beomniiz as himself )
✶ CONTENT WARNINGS ─── smau & written fluff slight angst enemies to lovers band au fake dating au celebrity au swearing death jokes yujin ( from ive ) is y/n’s faceclaim random timestamps
⋮ ⌗ ┆synopsis: in a dim pub where nights blur together, park sungho, a bartender, and you, a waitress, slowly drift into something unspoken and fragile, until life begins to hint at an ending neither of you is ready to name.
⋮ ⌗ ┆warnings: angst, angst, angst. , drinking / alcohol, unconsented touching, skinship, death, profanity, kissing, intended lowercase, female reader (do inform me if I missed anything)
⋮ ⌗ ┆word count: 2.5k
⋮ ⌗ ┆authors note: this oneshot is specially dedicated to @yumangel !! <33 thank you to @myungmyng for proofreading this oneshots plot for me!! <33 it's my first time tackling angst so it's not extreme angst but I did have a lot of fun (and arm cramps) writing this!! I hope you enjoy reading this too!! <33
ᛝ now playing: forever you by boynextdoor
back to masterlist | reblogs and comments highly valued~~
there are nights that don’t end when they are supposed to and others that before anyone realises, they have already started ending. everything moves as it always has, glass against wood, laughter spilling into corners too dark, footsteps tracing the same tired patterns across the floor. though, something underneath it all feels weird but no one stops to fix it and no one thinks to. yet somewhere in the ordinary rhythm of it all, there is a quiet certainty that nothing here will stay untouched forever. not the names spoken across the bar. not the hands that almost reach, then don’t. because some goodbyes don’t arrive loudly. they wait.. until they are finally called by name.
⌗ ┆more below the cut!!;
the pub never felt fully alive in the way people expected it to be. it wasn’t the music or the laughter or even the warm taste of alcohol. it was something quieter, in the pauses between orders and the way time seemed to drag its feet whenever park sungho stood behind the bar. he learned your shifts before he even learned your name properly. learned the tune that you hum before he ever let himself look for too long. and every night as he poured drinks with steady hands and a blank expression, his eyes would still drift, betraying him, towards you. and always, without fail, there would be men who looked at you like you were part of the menu. hungry eyes that didn’t belong to hunger at all. lust. sungho would tighten his grip on the bottle of alcohol until it stopped feeling like glass.
after closing time, the pub emptied itself of strangers. sungho would wait outside, hands in his pockets, shoulders loose, acting as if he just happened to be leaving at the same time as you, every night. and every single night, he would walk you home. it became a quiet habit before it became a decision. the streets after 3am felt different, less loud. the world shrank into the space between your steps, with the soft glow of streetlights. you talked sometimes. other nights, you didn’t. but the silence between the two of you was never empty.
he learned the small details without asking for them. the way you hugged your coat tighter when the wind turned sharp. the way your apartment was too small for someone who carried so much of the night on their shoulders. somewhere along these walks, sungho stopped thinking of it as protection and started realising it was something worse. something much softer. something that stayed even after he told himself it shouldn’t. he didn’t notice the exact moment it changed. only that one night, when you reached your door and turned back to say goodbye, he found himself hoping, unreasonably hoping, that you would look at him longer. and when you did, he finally understood. he was already falling. too deep. too fast.
it happened on a night that looked no different from the others. same dim lights. same vinyl records. same people drinking their asses off. sungho noticed him the moment he walked in, the burly man who laughed too loudly, drank too fast, and looked at you like lust was the only thing he knew. at first, it was just another uneasy presence in the room, one of many. sungho told himself not to stare too long, he told himself it wasn't his place.
but then he saw the way the man kept calling you over, the way his hand lingered a second too long when you handed him a drink, the way you smile tightened at the edges. and then, too suddenly, too wrong, sungho saw him cross a line. the man called you over again, and this time when you leaned in to place the drink down, his hand didnt stop where it should have, it slid up your thigh. then further. your breath caught so sharply it hurt, body freezing as if it had forgotten how to move. “hey–” you managed, barely. but it wasn’t loud enough. it never was in moments like this. across the room, sungho saw it. something in him snapped.
a strange hollow stillness filled him like everything inside him had gone too quiet to function properly. then he was moving. out from behind the bar, through the noise, straight towards the table without thinking long enough to regret it. a punch landed before anyone could understand what was happening. the man stumbled back, chair crashing, shock snapping into rage almost instantly. “who the hell do you think you are?” he spat, already pushing forward again.
“don’t touch her.” sungho said. his voice wasn’t loud and that was what made it worse. someone grabbed his arm, someone shouted his name. the pub erupted, chairs scraping, voices rising and security rushing. sungho didn’t step back, he hit him again. and again. not because he wanted to fight but because he couldn’t unsee what he had seen. and through it all, you finally found your voice, “sungho– stop!”
he turned immediately. like you were the only sound he could still hear. he looked lost, breathing unevenly, knuckles red. “i’m sorry.” he said quickly, “i saw him touching you and i– i couldn’t just stand there–” your hands were trembling, you hated that they were. “you’re going to get fired..” you said. “i don’t care,” he answered instantly.
something in your chest tightened, because that was exactly the problem. you stepped forward without thinking, grabbing his wrist and dragging him into the breakroom. “idiot,” you muttered, though your voice wasn’t sharp. it wasn’t an insult, it was something softer pretending to be one.
sungho sat on the back chair near the storage room, still tense. you found the first aid kit and when you came back, he looked up at you like he wanted to say something but decided against it. “let me see.” you said simply. he hesitated. then, slowly, he held his hand out. you knelt in front of him, careful as you cleaned the cuts. the silence between you was heavy, full of everything neither of you knew how to put into words yet. he watched your face more than he watched your hands.
“you shouldn’t be here,” he said suddenly. your fingers paused, “what?” “this job,” he said, jaw tightening slightly. “this place.. you shouldn’t have to deal with people like that.. you deserve better than.. all of this.. you could leave, you could just– walk away.” he frowned. “and go where?” you asked softly. that made him stop. your hands moved carefully again, wrapping the bandage around his knuckles. your knee brushing his. sungho noticed, of course he did. the air between you shifted undeniably.
“you did it for me..” you said. his throat moved slightly as he swallowed, “i would do it again.” that broke the silence. or maybe deepened it. you didn’t realise you were leaning in until you were already too close to pretend it was accidental. sungho didn’t move away. he looked like he was waiting, like he had been waiting for too long to stop it now. when you kissed him, it wasn’t the usual gentle way people expect first kisses to be. it was full of everything unspoken, too careful and too desperate at the same time. his uninjured hand cupped your cheek as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. for a moment, nothing else existed.
then you pulled away first. breathing unevenly. eyes not quite steady. you stood up too quickly, “i should go,” you said. his brows furrowed slightly, “wait–” but you were already stepping back and avoiding his eyes. sungho didn’t stop you and just watched. like he knew you were leaving before you even stood up. and this time, the silence felt like something cracked open.
the next few days felt wrong in a way sungho couldn’t explain properly. at first, he told himself it was normal. people took time off, shifts change. but then a second day passed, then a third. and your name stopped appearing on the chart entirely. on the fourth day, he finally asked. the boss didn’t look at him for long before answering. just a tired glance, a shrug that carried too much meaning. “she resigned, didn’t say much,” he said flatly.
sungho didn’t remember leaving the pub after that conversation. only the feeling that his body had already started moving before his mind agreed to it. your apartment looked smaller than usual. he stood across the street for a long time before crossing over, like he was afraid the closer he got, the less real it would become. he peeked through your window, no light inside, no movement, no sign that anyone was home. he knocked anyway. ddok ddok ddok. nothing. then the door beside your apartment opened. an elderly woman peeked out, eyes narrowing slightly in cautious curiosity before softening when she saw him. “you looking for her? she asked. “ah– yeah.. is she home?” sungho asked.
the woman hesitated. the she sighed, shaking her head. “oh dear.. she hasn’t been home for a while,” she said gently, “you must be someone from her work..” sungho’s throat tightened, “do you know where she is?”
at that, her expression changed slightly, something quieter, more careful, “she’s in the hospital.. been there for a while now..” the word didn’t land properly at first. hospital. it stayed suspended between them, refusing to turn into meaning. sungho stared at her, unblinking. “...hospital?” he repeated. the woman nodded slowly, “yes.. i think they tried contacting family but–” she stopped when she saw his face but sungho was already moving before she could finish.
sungho didn’t think. he just ran. the streets blurred into each other under the flicker of streetlights, each steps hitting harder than the last like his body was trying to outrun something it already knew was coming. he didn’t feel the pain in his lungs at first. didn’t feel the ache and burn in his legs. only the sharp, relentless urgency in his chest that refused to slow down. hospital. the word kept repeating in his head like a broken alarm. hospital. hospital. hospital. and with it came fragments he hadn’t asked for, memories that surfaced violently as he ran. you standing by the counter, like exhaustion sat heavier on your shoulders than you let on. the faint way your hand would tremble when you thought no one was looking. the nights you smiled anyway. the nights you didn’t. he pushed harder.
glass doors came into view, he stumbled inside, breath ragged, immediately approaching the front desk. “Y/n L/n..” he said, voice breaking before he control it. “I– I’m looking for her.. i’m one of her emergency contacts from work..” the receptionist checked the system then directed him upstairs. sungho didn’t remember the elevator ride, only the sound of his own heartbeat, too loud, too fast, like it was trying to warn him. a doctor met him in the corridor, not rushed, not confused, just still. too still. and sungho knew, even before a word was spoken, that something inside the world had already changed shape. “where is she? is she okay?” sungho said immediately.
the silence that followed was wrong. the kind of silence that doesn’t belong in conversations about living people. the doctor’s expression softened in a way that felt unbearable. “she was suffering from lupus..” he said gently, “it was diagnosed too late.. a month ago.. we did what we could but..”
the rest didn’t come out as words. it didn’t need to.sungho stared at him, uncomprehending at first, like the sentence had been spoken in a language he used to know but had forgotten how to translate. then it hit. all at once.
“no,” he said immediately, shaking his head once, then again, as if denial could undo it. “no, that’s not– she was just here.. she was–” his voice cracked, the world tilted slightly. the doctor’s mouth moved again, something softer this time but sungho couldn’t hear properly anymore. because the only thing that existed was the sudden, impossible absence of you. his legs gave out, he collapsed onto the floor, knees hitting the cold tile, hands trembling uselessly.
“no..” he said again, but it wasn’t denial anymore. it was breaking. and for the first time, there was no anger left in him at all, only the unbearable realization that he had been running towards a moment he could never outrun.
too late.
too late.
too late.
a month later, the pub still opened at the same hour. the lights still flickered in the same tired music still spilled out into the street, and the same laughter still rose and fell like nothing had ever change. sungho still finished his shifts. still cleaned his station. still wiped down the bar until it shone under the light. still nodded at coworkers and customers who no longer asked where you were. time moved forward around him as if it had no memory of you at all.
but he did. every night, when the doors finally closed behind the last customer. sungho would step outside with the same habit he couldn’t break. same pause. same instinct. his hands would slips into his packers without thought, and his eyes would drift toward the street like he was looking for a shape the world had already erased. he would wait. not because he expected you to appear. but because some part of him still hadn’t learned how not to.
the air outside was always cooler after closing. quieter too. the kind of silence that used to belong to you both, walking side by side under streetlights that never quite reached the ground.
he stood there longer each night. until the waiting stopped feeling like waiting and started feeling like remembering. one night, he took a step forward without realising why. then stopped. his gaze fell to the empty space beside him. and just like that, it came back all at once. the walk home, the sound of your voice, the way you used to look over at him like you were still deciding whether to trust the quiet between you.
the absence hit him gently. not like the hospital. not like the floor. worse. like something that had always been there, and now wasn’t. sungho exhaled slowly. his hand tightened in his pocket then loosened again. like he couldn’t decide what to do with it.
and for a moment, he just stood there outside the pub, watching a street that no longer led anywhere he could follow. then he turned away, not because he had moved on but because there was nowhere left to wait.
he still stood outside the pub after every shift. waiting out of habit for someone who would never walk back to him again.
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genre. student!woonhak, student!reader, high school love, fluff, slowburn (?)
w.c. 5.7k+
summary. It's his last year of high school when Kim Woonhak realizes you make his heart beat faster than normally acceptable. Will he be able to contain his feelings just as you have yours?
a.n. back with another fic, surprise lols! :) im actually cackling. this is so random. I've currently finished my first year of pre-university so I haven't been able to pick up writing freely since I was busy af! writing extended essays and internal assessments. These days I've just been craving some boynextdoor fics. Woonhak's my bias because he's just So High School. This fic was mainly inspired by Niki's Take A Chance With Me.
his laugh you'd die for, the kind that colors the sky
IF THERE WAS ONE THING TO NOTE ABOUT WOONHAK, IT WAS THIS: YOU HEAR HIM BEFORE YOU SEE HIM.
But ultimately it’s one of the few reasons why you were so enamoured with him anyway. In a way, Woonhak was always just such a breath of fresh air. He fills the silence between you two easily and you admire the way he never fails to speak his mind. Although most of what he says weighs between utter nonsense or weird baseball slash basketball analogy. Nothing in between.
You don’t know how it happened. Just that he almost fell when he entered the classroom because he failed to realize the small indent between the hallway and classroom. To your strange luck, you seemed to be the only one who saw his embarrassing encounter with the indent. When he's raised his fist up to celebrate his achievement of not being seen, he makes eye contact with you.
You laughed first, of course, obviously. “Nice try guy,” you had said, patting his shoulder as you passed by him and out the door, continuing your original plan to grab a drink. Your smile was unwavering because what else would you have done? Not laugh? Tough luck.
The next thing you heard were his steps trying to catch up with you, and then a brush of his shoulders with yours. “Please, please tell me you aren’t gonna tell anyone, please,” he begged, voice as whiny as ever. At your silence he continues his demonstrations of whining and begging and whining again until you reached the vending machines.
As if having enough with your unconcerned figure, he moves quickly to block the screen of the machines; perfectly blocking the view of drink choices. “Come on! Then it’s my treat, just please,” His lips formed a natural pout and you couldn't help but say something then.
“Go on then,” Man, he was cute. The smile he gave you after was a joy to see. Bright like a warm hug in winter.
When the strawberry milk sits in the palms of your hands, he began again, “So… this means you won’t tell anyone right?” His brows rose up and down. “Right?”
You popped your straw in its intended place before starting to make your way back to the classroom with small steps, you deliberately made eye contact with him, “Who said?”
When his whines start picking up again, you couldn't help but look at him stomping his feet and whatever. Your eyes darted to his name tag, Kim Woonhak. What a way to start freshman year of high school.
What happened after that was completely his doing. Suddenly he clung to you everywhere. In group assignments, paired sport activities, to the shop, break and lunch, sometimes even your silent library time.
But then again, it’s not like you can say you hated his presence. He keeps making you laugh and in turn it has led to some real comedic moments. Woonhak in all his bright jubilant being is just a boy, and when he laughs. He laughs hard.
In this though, you came to the ultimate realization that you’ve utterly and truly fucked yourself up.
he says my name like i'd fade away somehow if he's too loud
It happened on some random Sunday afternoon in ‘23. You were coming over to his house to do some serious studying because your mid terms were just around the corner. Woonhak being the kind best friend he was, invited you over because he, for the life of him, couldn’t keep his eyes open for more than five minutes trying to read the textbook. Which you’ve told him was the ‘worst way of studying ever’.
After three hours of extreme concentration you realized it had become quiet. Too quiet, so naturally you looked over to see what he was doing. To absolutely no one’s surprise there he was, head on the table, textbook and paraphernalia of school supplies surrounding him. He fell asleep atop his plastic ruler and you know it’s gonna leave a mark when he wakes up. It leaves a subtle tingle in your chest, knowing how stupidly adorable he’s gonna look when he does.
It was in this silence where you realized you were gonna live with these feelings you have for him for a long while. Kim Woonhak, the whiny kid who trips more often than not, clumsy in a worrying way, creative in ways not pertaining to math and the loud fool who always claps the hardest when you achieve another milestone in your life. Who would’ve known? Seriously.
The next few minutes were spent looking at his annoying face. Needless to say, your heart is pounding against your chest. With the sunset gently laying its rays on his sleeping figure, you start to pack up.
When it comes to things like these, you know what to do. Think it through, sleep it off.
You leave a note on his forehead saying your goodbyes. Not wanting to ruin his precious sleep. You waved at his mother when you saw her in the kitchen, “Auntie, hak’s asleep in his room. My mum wants me back before dinner so I gotta dash now. Thank you for the snacks!” You gave a polite bow before exchanging your slippers for your shoes. Your heart pauses when you weigh the actuality of it all. His mum gives you a hum, saying her goodbyes from the kitchen. Just as you move to open the door, she rushes to you and in her arms a tupperware filled with side dishes. Your heart clenches.
You thank her graciously, she pats your head and you go on with your journey home.
Walking with your heart heavy is a force to be reckoned with. There’s a quiet intimacy in knowing you’ve left such an indent in someone’s life. Having a pair of slippers for each other when you visit your respective homes, knowing where they put their plates, where their seasonings are.
You’ve never believed in rushing into things. If there was one thing preached in your household, it was patience and unwavering perseverance. It was no wonder how each family member in your life was able to achieve great things, you were set to follow their footsteps.
The way Woonhak does things though. It’s a sight to see. This you let a small laugh at. He’s not even here and you’re thinking of him. How much more insane can you be?
On this walk back home, you took your time, thought about a lot of things. How colorful it is when Woohak laughs loudly. How he’s always hungry. The quiet moments between you. His long rants about the Lotte Giants. That time you played on the swings. How unforgivingly loud he is. The number of times he’s tripped. Basketball sessions where he misses the hoop. How your feelings will always be kept at bay. You care for him too much for you to suddenly lose him over such a fleeting thing such as feelings.
But then again, love has always been simple. Every emotion is a sign, and if this is them giving you a sign; you’d embrace them. As the sky settles into arrays of pink, orange and yellow, a smile blooms on your face. To be at peace with yourself, is to be at peace with your emotions.
Woonhak has always been a sweetheart to you. He doesn’t hesitate to take care of you, like it’s his second nature, which makes sense cause he's the oldest in his household.
You remember getting sick somewhere at the start of the school year. Bed-ridden with headaches banging in your head. Weakly opening your eyes, you saw him. Woonhak by the side of your bed, wringing a wet towel. In all honesty, you thought you were dreaming.
The next time you opened your eyes it was when he woke you up, stirring you from sleep with his gentle hands. You felt a wet cloth on your forehead, it made you suddenly aware of the situation. You tried to sit up.
“Woah hold on there tiger. Take it easy,” Woonhak reassured you.
There in your bedroom sitting by you on the bed, he feeds you the warm porridge. In no rush to fill you in about what happened at school earlier, retelling all the funny things that happened in class too. He’d laid the homework and notes on your study table, pasted sticky notes with page numbers written down hastily.
Woonhak, in all his loudness, has his moments of quiet seriousness–most especially when it comes to taking care of you. In rare moments like these, his tenderness reveals itself clearly–in the way he takes care of you without needing to be asked.
You remember thinking how irrevocably smitten you were with him. Flustered because he’s seen you in such a weak state. But yet again, it feels nice to be taken care of. Woonhak has always made sure you knew that. That it wasn’t something he’d think twice about doing.
Rounding the corner to finally reach your street, the red settles in your cheeks easily. It's calming to know your brain and heart agree with each other.
uncovering the dreams he dreams at night
It’s his last year of high school when Woonhak realizes how stunningly beautiful you are. It’s like there’s a constant halo on you and he can’t keep his eyes off you. Now don’t get him wrong, he’s always thought you were pretty though. Just much more so.
And when he starts scratching at his chest where his heart sits because it starts racing whenever you’re near him, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
It was like any other school day, Monday. He slides the door open with a jolt and yells out, “Good morning everybody!” before he sees you.
Woonhak–nonetheless–is popular among the majority of the people here. He befriends people easily which isn’t unexpected. He’s outgoing and a guy you trust can have fun. As people greet him back his eyes roam around and land on you.
You arrive before him as usual, already on your desk talking to the people surrounding your table not at all minding his usual loud morning greeting to the class (it happens everyday). People have always flocked to you naturally like there was an irresistible force pulling people towards you and they gravitated to you like a magnet finding its field.
As if sensing his stare, you turn to the door seeing him standing there aloof. “Did you trip again genius?” you tease him, smile gracing your features.
He sends you a deadpan expression as he moves to his seat, conveniently next to you by the way. Upon reaching your side, he drops his bag carelessly on his desk, “Again?” He sulks, crossing his arms on the desk and planting his face on them.
His heart drops to his ass when he hears the question you ask him, “Did you do the math homework, hak-ah?” His head has never shot up so fast, eyebrows almost meeting his hairline. “Exactly.”
With a sigh, you gesture to the paper on your desk and the smile he gives is enough to feed three generations of mountain goats. He knows that face of yours though, it's where you’re contemplating on giving a physical injury but you care about him too much.
“Thank youuuuu,” He sings, taking out his own homework sheet (clean with rumpled edges) before copying down your answers. Purposely getting some wrong and leaving them blank to make it more believable because he knows you’re getting a full mark on this. He may be dense but he still has common sense, this he can admit.
When he slides your paper back on your desk, you take a look at him. It’s a slow motion montage when he sees your hand coming up to fix his hair and it was over before he wanted it to be. Once neat enough in your eyes, you continue chatting with a classmate of yours. He sits there, trying not to breathe too loud because what. was. that.
It was a normal thing for you to fix his hair for him, what with all the clumsy things he’s done. Messing up his hair was the least of his worries. It was for you apparently. He never thought twice about your actions until now.
His thoughts were so loud. “You okay?” You nudge his side. As the school bell rings its normal tune, he can only nod his head. He grips his thigh hard, trying to stop it from fidgeting.
Kim Woonhak’s philosophy when it came to strange things happening to his heart was to go over it with someone more experienced. Which is why he is sat in front of Myung Jaehyun, his next door neighbor, friends by close proximity plus he was twice as annoying and persistent when they were kids.
“So what you’re telling me is that…” Jaehyun begins. “...your heart beats faster when you’re around her,” Woonhak hums, nodding.
“You smile when you think about her,” He nods harder. “She keeps popping up in your head,”
“...and you keep remembering all the things she likes for no reason at all?” Jaehyun ends.
He has never nodded harder than this: “Mhm, right, right.”
The silence encapsulates the two before Jaehyun lets out the loudest shriek of laughter he can muster. A laughter so joyous it causes tears to brim his eyes. Outrageous, Jaehyun thinks. Woonhak sits there, unimpressed. “Are you done yet, hyung?” At this Jaehyun releases another round of laughter, hand coming up to wipe the stray tears away.
When he finally comes to, “Hak-ah, this was the incredibly important information that you needed me to help out on? I mean seriously?”
“I mean… yeah I guess. It’s about y/n anyway. Everything’s important when it comes to her.” Woonhak answers genuinely. As if sensing his sincerity, Jaehyun sobers up and lets out a smile.
“Kid, you like her. What is so hard to grasp about that?”
Oh. Right.
hak: do we hv hw?
y/nnie: Why are you nonchalant again?
hak: always been bro 💯
y/nnie: Chem p32 and chapter 5 of english
hak: 😪
y/nnie: You best not ask me for answers tmrw
hak: 😁
y/nnie: 🤦🏻♀️
hak: goodnighttttt
y/nnie: Nighty hak-ie
hak: cn u say sweet dreams to me too?
y/nnie: No.
hak: ☹️
y/nnie: Sweet dreams you big baby.
woonhak: 😊
Woonhak isn’t making his case any better when he sees himself smiling through the reflection of his phone. “Oh my god, have I always been down bad for her?” He faceplants onto this bed, shimmying under the covers. Hoping to dear god he can erase all the possibilities of you and him so he can finally get some sleep.
All hope is lost when he starts remembering winter break of ‘23.
Sophomore year of high school. It’s called a winter break for a reason, so he–being the mastermind he was–planned a trip to Namsan Tower. Partly because he’d only been there once and it wasn’t with you. Plans were made and set.
“Ah, oh my god,” he says in the silence of his bedroom. “I even chose my clothes the day before,” he covers his eyes with his elbow, the embarrassment of a memory now settling behind the lids of his eyes.
So he did lay his clothes down the day before. He won’t lie to himself and say that he didn’t keep trying them on too. Exchanging every little bit of clothing with something new when he didn’t like how it looked.
On the day itself, he was as he was. Loud and a little reckless but this time with a scarf around his neck and earmuffs. That day, you played in the snow, ate hot churros outside in the snow where he complained about it being cold to which you reprimanded him for because you definitely did tell him to eat inside.
But there was this one memory he’s kept to himself since then.
He was being silly and of course fell ass down on the snow, laying down there on the cold white he heard your laughter first. The smile that reached his face was unstoppable. When the view of your face fills his field of vision, he’s momentarily taken-aback. The redness on your cheeks and nose, the little snow clinging to your lashes made you so enchanting and he was nothing but spelled. His lips twitched.
“You okay genius?” you had asked while stifling your laughs, putting a hand out so he can reach. A bright idea pulses through his brain waves, and before you know it you’re pulled onto the ground next to him. The laugh escaped him before he was able to stop it. You had laughed then too.
When the laughs settled down, he stood up first now stretching his hand to help you up and you gladly took it. Like automatic, you went ahead to brush the snow stuck in his hair, fixed his scarf and neatly put his earmuffs over his ears properly. He thanks you with a grateful smile–the blush on his cheeks from the cold or from you–he still doesn’t know.
And when Woonhak feels his heart race that day, he thinks nothing of it.
and he's got swirls of passion in his eyes
As Woonhak stands by the vending machine to buy you and himself a drink, he recalls the lesson he learnt from Jaehyun. Palm holding the folded piece of paper, reading it over again.
“What do I do now though?” He had asked Jaehyun.
“Fear not hak-ah, I have just the plan for you.” Jaehyun had said this with utmost certainty. He hands him a rumpled piece of paper like it’s been given and returned multiple times.
Woonhak unfolds the paper, reading aloud, “How to be a... Nice Guy?” He’d looked up at Jaehyun then, features morphing into that of doubt. Jaehyun only nodded, face still filled with surety and confidence.
How to be a Nice Guy: Nice Guy Operation
Step 1: Don’t Lose Confidence
Step 2: Let Your Soul Sing For Her (Mind Your Manners)
Step 3: Always be a Sweetie
He reaches down to collect your drinks, strawberry milk for you and a can of soda for him.
Honestly speaking, he’s done all these steps before. It’s not that hard to be a nice guy when you already embody these in real life. Confidence? He’s got enough of that to last a lifetime, you wouldn’t need to worry. A prime example would be May ‘24, Junior Sports Day. He remembers joining every single sport there was, why?
Well, the question was: why wouldn’t he?
It’s his last year before being submerged by the college entrance exams. The least he could do was enjoy the present.
“Joining 7 competitions is not how you enjoy the present, stupid,” you’d said to him, brows almost creasing into one.
This, he remembers vividly.
“It is if I'm gonna sweep all those medals,” he’d declared, hand stretched out to mimic snatching the medals. He’s met with a flick to the forehead and an earful of how he’s going to at least go home with an ankle sprain going back-to-back with basketball and long jump.
He ended up going home that day with 4 out of 7 medals. Gold in track, silvers in badminton singles and 3x3 basketball, a bronze in long jump. Two fouls in javelin and discus because he kept going over the line so he was disqualified and a DNS in high jump– it clashed with track.
It was no big deal though. He was crowned MVP thanks to his unforgiving passion to be better than everyone else. The ribbon for Best Team Player though? It’s tucked neatly in his room somewhere because as much as he wanted to be better than everyone else, he's sure to bring the energy to cheer people on from the sidelines.
Especially when it comes to you.
Although you didn’t show it, there was this nervous tic you had. You tapped your foot three exact times, and if he wasn’t careful he would’ve missed it but he’s learned to read you.
From there, the people turned to look because his whistling, clapping and shouts of your name were the loudest. You only shook your head and laughed. Seeing you cross the finish line first and then raising your gold medal in the air to beam up at him. He’s seen this smile before. Your eyes crinkled first, then a nose scrunch. The apple of your cheeks blooming.
‘That’s my girl,’ he had thought then. A certain type of warmth pooled in his chest.
With your matching gold medals, you took a picture to commemorate the day. His copy stays framed on his bedside table, and yours hung up on the wall next to your calendar.
When he reaches the classroom, he eyes shoot to you first. You’re leaning against the wall by the window, backlit by the soft rays. His mouth runs before he can stop it–
“y/n–”
“y/n!” Dongmin’s voice cuts through to you first. You turn to him with a relaxed smile. “Mhm dongminnie what’s up?”
Woonhak halts mid step.
Dongmin’s hand shoots up to hold up a familiar pink carton in the air, “For you, ma’am,” he says with a sly smile.
Woonhak can tell it worked on you. He watches as your face lights up in a pleasant surprise. “You shouldn’t have!” You chide at him, mock-offended, nudging at his shoulder slightly with a playful push.
This is what guts him. Like a ball just decided to ram up his upper stomach, stealing his breath from him. Woonhak looks down at the same drink he holds, the condensation dripping onto his palms.
His chest tightens as apprehension curls tight around his lungs. Since when have you been so chummy with Dongmin?
Woonhak has never been worried about other guys. You catch attention from them with the snap of your fingers. You were naturally friendly and easy to talk to but he knew you. You offer them sincere compliments if they manage to grab your attention but most of the time? They just weren’t worth your time.
This didn’t help the disgusting twist in his gut every time he sees a guy come up to you though. He’s seen enough of them try their luck with you, and he absolutely won’t mention the subtle guilty relief he feels whenever they walk away with their shoulders drooping with your bittersweet rejection.
As he watches you accept the strawberry goodness with a light beam in your eyes from Han Dongmin, he wonders what else you’re keeping from him.
When the bell rings and he goes to sit next to you, he wordlessly grabs the strawberry milk Dongmin had given you and absentmindedly drinks it in one go. He doesn't stop to hear your protests. When he finishes the drink, you’re left with no words as you stare with your mouth parted. As he turns to look at you, milk mustache and all, he slides the strawberry milk he bought.
He could tell you’ve changed your mind about slapping the back of his neck.
“Did you seriously have to do that?” You say. Clearly amused with the whole ordeal.
“Yep,” popping the ‘p’ as his lips press into a thin line, facing the front of the class. The jealousy that clings to him was something he didn’t like following him around, and the first thing to do was eliminate all options.
What was that about confidence? Woonhak scoffs under his breath.
as much as he tries to hide, i can see right through
What do you do when you like someone?
It’s different for everyone. In Woonhak’s case, though, he resorts to avoidance. The awkward kind where its ‘hey I just found out I kinda like you a whole fucking lot’. The one where he makes lame excuses to stop seeing your face cause he thinks his heart might combust. Unfortunately for him though, you notice everything about him. Especially when he rushes off to grab lunch with his other friends that Monday. You’re quick to catch on.
“I’m grabbing lunch with Yujin and the rest,” He rubs his nape, actively avoiding your eye contact.
When you manage to respond with a meek okay, he bolts off straight after. Your thoughts are cut off with a shout of your name.
“Jeong y/n! Let’s go!” Eunchae calls out to you from the class window. There's a disturbance in the air you can’t quite place, you feel this in your gut.
You promptly meet her outside. “Hak-ie’s acting weird,” you say with a slight furrow in your eyebrows. Eunchae loops her arms with yours as you begin walking towards the canteen. “When is he not weird, y/n-ie.” She responds dryly.
Touche.
When Tuesday rolls around, you’re certain of it now.
hak-ie: lunch w da boyz again 🙏🏻
hak-ie: c u ltr
His text was normal. Although more nonchalant than usual.
You’ve been observing him since the first period. Every question you ask him is clipped with a dry response. He seems tense for a reason you can’t quite place.
When you sit down with Eunchae in the cafeteria along with your other girlfriends, your appetite seems to diminish. The pasta you would’ve usually slurped up sits mostly untouched on your plate. You play around with your food as you try to take part in the conversation despite your mind being on something else.
You wait by the gate on Wednesday. A force of habit. Walking home together wasn’t something that needed to be discussed, it just made sense. A message comes through and it's from him.
hak-ie: shooting hoops with the guys ⛹🏻 u go ahead
He didn't even bother texting you when the bell rings for lunch and he walks with his hands over Yujin’s shoulder earlier today. Not one look at you.
You frown at this, lips pressing into a thin line, stomach twisting in that usual way when something doesn’t go your way and Woonhak avoiding you was definitely not going your way.
You force out a reply, sighing.
y/n: have fun!
Walking has always been a sort of reprieve for you. It helps you handle your muddled thoughts and ideas, untangling the jumbled mess of creative plagues and academic tendencies. Today though, there’s a heavy feeling that comes with every step.
Between you, Woonhak has always been much more emotional. He’s expressive in whatever he does and he doesn’t stay silent because he reacts too much. He wore his heart on his sleeve.
He cries first watching every movie that’s remotely sad, and you’re next to him handing out tissues whenever his snot piles up too much.
“Okay, here’s another scenario. Your friend calls to tell you that they’ve been in an accident, what would you say first?” Woonhak reads.
Your answer was quick to escape before you gave it any thought, “I’d ask them why they’re calling me first, duh. They should’ve called the ambulance first.”
Woonhak’s mouth opens in shock,“Oh my god you’re heartless.” You pay no mind to this as you continue munching on the chips.
“I mean, what would you have said?” You retort, mouth full. Hand moving to grab more.
His hand folds to mimic a telephone, “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Okay true,” you’d agreed then, “I would’ve assumed they were okay because they chose to call me instead of the ambulance.”
He only shakes his head at your attempt. When he sees the nearly empty bag of chips, he jolts rushing to grab the bag. “Yah! I barely even ate this!” his legs sprawl going back and forth as bursts into a fit of whines.
“You kept talking,” you say with a small shrug, sheepish smile on your face.
His way opposes yours strongly. You keep things tucked a little tighter, handle everything under a hush-hush basis. Carefully, intentionally.
But Kim Woonhak is seriously starting to push your limits.
It’s Thursday when Eunchae asks with hands on her hips, “Did you two fight?”
There’s a slight pause before you force a laugh, “Where did you even get that from?” trying to avoid the topic.
“It’s been a serious while since I saw him clinging onto you,” you can say that again, you thought. “He’s just on his basketball rampage again or whatever,” you make an excuse trying to sound unbothered when you’re nothing but.
Eunchae knew you though. Well enough to notice when it sounds like a lie when you answer too quick, too casually. You thank her silently when she doesn’t push for more and hums moving on, because what would’ve you even said? That he’s ignoring you for no apparent reason and you don’t know what you did to warrant such behavior?
Clinging onto you—yeah, that used to be Woonhak’s specialty.
Your heart twists in misplaced affection because, man, do you miss him.
You and Woonhak were the dynamic duo. If anyone were to find you, you would’ve always seen one with the other. Wherever you went, Woonhak went and vice versa.
Him not being by your side was as obvious as the sun missing from the sky. His absence further fills the gap of silence you’ve been feeling since Monday.
You swallow hard, forcing the rice to go down.
how did i get in this arrangement? it baffles me too
He’s confronted by you on Friday.
He was off to walk home when he’s tugged by the collar of his shirt. “What the–”
As soon as he’s released, he stumbles and spins to see who the perpetrator is, he stops short when he's met with your figure clearly not at all expecting it to be you.
You stand there with a look he can’t decipher but he can definitely feel the anger and frustration coming off from you, and an underlying feeling of something more somber and heavy. Your arms are crossed and a frown sits permanently on your face.
“Yah, Kim Woonhak. You’ve got a whole of shit to explain.”
The short-lived silence was enough to penetrate his soul if it could before you launch onto your words–spouting about how insensitive, thoughtless, inconsiderate and callous he’s been. Avoiding you for no reason, late replies, leaving you behind and the like.
The more you speak, the louder your voice becomes. He can tell the feelings you’ve swallowed down, finally clawing its way out, begging him to be acknowledged, demanding to be heard.
There's a pounding in his ears that he can’t seem to get rid of. Maybe because you’re shouting at him but he’ll never truly know. His heart keeps clenching and unclenching. If he’d known better, it was as if his heart just wanted to jump out of his chest and into your arms.
Suddenly caught in the onslaught of his feelings, he’s overwhelmed. Before he knows it, his mouth speaks faster than his thoughts.
“And if you didn’t want to be friends anymore, you could’ve at least told—”
“I like you!” he blurts.
As the weight of his words sink into him, his hands fly up to cover his mouth instinctively as if he told a secret he wasn’t supposed to tell.
why can't we for once, say what we want, say what we feel?
You’re met with the back of his head a second later when he twists around. You let out a ridiculous scoff at his actions. So this was why he was avoiding you? Ignoring you like you were some background character?
‘Ah Kim Woonhak, really?’ you mentally face palmed. You were worried over nothing then. God, how much more silly can this boy get?
You hold a firm grip on his bicep, making sure he can feel a bit of pain–serves him right to be avoiding you all week, to turn him around. He’s got his eyes shut tightly. “Open your eyes, stupid.”
He opens an eye slowly to cautiously gauge your reaction before opening the other.
“What am I gonna do with you?” you shake your head with an amused frown. He says nothing. Hands still over his mouth, eyes wide and fixed on you.
You gently reach up to shrug his hands off to his sides, keeping them there before you do what you think to be the most impulsive thing you’ve ever done. You give him a quick peck right on the center of his lips.
The look he gives you after–half-filled in mild amusement, half-filled in atrocious shock–is enough for a lingering smile to settle on your lips.
“Up for some burgers?”
With a turn on your heel, you begin slow steps to start walking before you hear his shuffles and suddenly he’s in front of you. His hands land on your shoulders and the next thing you know his lips are on yours.
Longer, sweeter, welcomed.
He kisses you as if to make up for lost time. For all those times (multiple) when he wanted to kiss you. Winter break ‘23, that time when he got sick in August of ‘23, that day you wore a dress in the summer of ‘22, that time when you were scolding him because he wasn’t taking his studies seriously, Junior Sports Day ‘24 and so forth.
You’re certain he feels the smile on your lips before you deepen the kiss. Quite clearly enjoying this. Eventually when you pull back, he breaks the silence first: “This means you like me back right,” he asks, voice small. Uncertainty flashes across his features.
You let out a teasing smile, “You tell me.” Continuing on with your steps like you didn’t just flip his axis. He’s clearly frustrated by your nonchalant ease at this.
The normal sounds of his groans behind you fill your ears and you laugh.
“Oh, come ON!”
He’s quick to join you by your side, clinging like moss on a rock. He slides his arms around your biceps and tugs slightly like a toddler begging for a lolly.
You can’t help but burst into a fit of easy laughter, completely and irrevocably endeared.
At this, he intertwines your fingers instead. Swinging your hands back and forth like it’s a normal thing you’ve always been doing: “So,” he smirks, “when did you start liking me?”
You can only shake your head back and forth, your smile ever present. He's stupid but you love him. Oh, you love him.
If there was one thing you were glad about though, it was that you're grateful he took his chance with you.
a.n. thanks for staying till the end!! like, reblogs and comments are much appreciated. i was actually pretty stoked to write this because you just can’t convince me woonhak isn’t made for this trope. till next time!
