summary; you never doubted his adoration for you, but after seeing him talk to his ex you can’t help but overthink. but instead of letting your thoughts grow, he quite literally brings you face to face with his past, and you quickly realise there was never anything to fear
warnings; teenage / high school romance, jealousy, fluff, ex girlfriend
wc; 2,5k - requested
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the first time you see her, it doesn’t feel like anything really..
you’re halfway through your lunch, complaining about how the cafeteria somehow made pasta both dry and soggy (which should be illegal, honestly), when someone taps woojin on the shoulder,
he turns, and his whole face changes immediately,
not in a dramatic, slow motion, movie way, just.. brighter?
almost surprised, like he didn’t expect something nice to happen today, but it did,
“jinwoo?” he says, a little too excited,
you barely look up at first, woojin gets approached all the time,
people ask him about homework, about practice, about their new songs, tbh about literally anything just to talk to him, you’ve gotten used to it, sitting there while someone leans over him, laughing a little too loudly,
so this time it’s no different, you just poke at your food and keep talking with your own friends,
“i’m serious,” you say to your friend, “this pasta has some serious flavor issues-“
“isn’t that his ex?”
you pause,
“…what?”
you look up properly this time,
she’s pretty, not in a flashy way, just.. easy to look at,
she’s smiling, and woojin is smiling back, and they’re talking like people who already know each other’s vibe and way of life, like there’s no awkwardness to get through,
and suddenly, your appetite is gone,
you don’t interrupt, you don’t say anything, you just listen to the hum of the cafeteria and the sound of your own thoughts getting a little too loud,
his ex.
for some reason it sits weird in your chest,
you didn’t even know what she looked like,
you never questioned his past relationship or experiences but now she’s standing here .. talking to him, it stings a little more than you’d like to admit,
you try to act normal, like it’s just louis who ran up to his hyung to bother him with his jokes,
you laugh at something someone says, you nod along to the conversation and you even take another bite of your food like a functioning human being,
but your brain is somewhere else,
and like you’re your own worst enemy, you suddenly remember something you read once, some poem you screenshotted at 2am because it made your chest hurt in a good way,
you never really fall out of love with your first love. you just learn how to carry it differently
you sigh so loud you’re sure the people on the other side of the cafeteria can hear you,
great. amazing. why did you ever read that??
and why did your brain have to remember it at this very moment??
because now all you can think is, what if he still carries her?
you glance at him,
he’s still talking to her, a little leaned in, his eyes soft, not flirty or anything weird,
just comfortable..
and that somehow makes it worse,
“you okay?”
you blink,
woojin is looking at you now, his ex is gone again,
“yeah,” you say way too fast, “why wouldn’t i be?”
he raises an eyebrow, he knows you too well for that to work,
“you’ve been stabbing that pasta like it personally offended you,”
“..it did,” you mutter, “it’s disgusting,”
he huffs out a quiet laugh, but his eyes don’t leave your face,
“did something happen?”
you hesitate,
this is the part where you could lie and brush it off,
be cool about it or at least pretend you are,
but you’re not cool,
you’re like.. in love for the first time and overthinking everything atm,
so instead you shrug, staring down at your tray,
“that was your ex, right?”
he pauses, “..yeah,”
you nod like that confirms something important, even though it doesn’t,
“she seems nice,”
“she is,” he says easily, “we just.. didn’t work out,”
you press your lips together, “you seemed… happy to see her,”
it comes out smaller than you meant it to,
he goes quiet for a second,
“i was surprised,” he says, “i haven’t seen her in a while,”
you nod again, because you’re not really sure what other emotes you could use right now without looking like a fool,
“right,”
there’s a pause, and you can feel woojin’s eyes scanning your face like all your unspoken words are showing on your forehead,
“hey,” he says gently,
you finally look up,
he’s not confused or annoyed, just.. his usual soft self,
“what’s wrong?”
you freeze,
“..nothing,” you say, immediately,
he just stares at you,
you sigh, “idk,”
“are you upset that she came up to me?”
“no,” you shoot back, way too fast,
“yn,”
you sigh again,
“ok maybe a little, but not in a weird way,” you add quickly, “just.. i don’t know, i read this thing once about first loves and now i can’t stop thinking about it..”
he tilts his head, “what thing?”
you hesitate, poking your fork into your pasta again,
“that you never really stop loving them,” you mumble,
he doesn’t say anything, just looks at you and you immediately regret even saying something,
“it’s dumb,” you say quickly, “forget it, i just-“
“hey,”
his voice is firmer this time, but still very gentle,
“it’s not dumb,” he says, “it’s.. kind of true, i guess, in a way,”
your stomach drops a little,
and he immediately notices the look flashing over your face,
“but not like that,” he adds quickly, “not the way you’re thinking,”
you look at him,
and your eyes must have told him all the thoughts running through your mind, because he immediately leans his arms on the table, a little closer to you,
“she was important to me,” he says, “we grew up together, so yeah, i don’t hate her or anything,”
he pauses, then nudges your tray lightly,
“but i’m not in love with her,”
you swallow, “not even a little?”
he shakes his head without hesitation, “not even a little,”
your chest loosens a little,
“then why did you look so-“
“happy?” he finishes,
you nod,
he smiles, small and real, “because i didn’t expect her to come up to me to congratulate me,”
he shrugs his shoulders, pausing for a moment to find the right words,
“you know, she was a big part of my trainee life and the lyrics i wrote back then so yk, it feels nice in a way, it’s like running into an old song you forgot you liked once,”
you blink,
“..that’s such a you way to explain it,”
“i know,” he says, clearly proud of himself,
you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now,
he mirrors the smile on your face and reaches over, flicking your fork,
“also,” he adds, quieter, “i have a really pretty and sweet girlfriend, why would i want anything else?”
you look at him, and he doesn’t look away,
and for a second, everything feels okay again,
“you’re so cliche,” you mumble,
“yeah,” he says, “but you like it,”
“..somehow, yeah,”
the next day, you don’t think much about it,
at least, you’re trying not to,
you tell yourself you’re over it, you’re fine, you’re normal,
and you’re definitely not going to spiral over poetry written by strangers on the internet ever again..
and it was all good, until it’s lunch time again and yet another group of people came up to woojin for a small talk,
and somehow.. that pulls you right back to the moment his ex stood there yesterday,
he immediately notices the change in your attitude,
and as soon as the other people walked off, woojin grabs your hand and stands up, pulling you up with him,
“come with me,”
you blink, “where?”
“just trust me,”
“that has never ended well for anyone in history,”
“you’ll survive,”
“bold of you to assume,”
he only chuckles, but you let him pull you anyway,
he’s walking through the tables in the cafeteria like he has a plan (which is already suspicious),
until-
you see her,
his ex..
she’s sitting with her friends, laughing about something, and for a split second you consider faking your own death,
but it’s too late, and woojin stops right in front of her,
“hey,”
she looks up, surprised, then smiles,
“hey!!”
“crazy timing, didn’t think i’d run into you here,” he says jokingly, laughing his infamous laugh,
which she immediately returns, “unbelievable, never thought i’d see you here!!”
he squeezes your hand, just a little,
“this is yn, my girlfriend,”
oh. okay. great. we’re doing this..
you give a small wave, “hi,”
she looks at you properly now, and instead of anything weird or awkward or tense,
her face lights up,
“oh my god,” she says, sitting up straighter, “you’re that girlfriend,”
you freeze,
“..that- what?”
she turns to woojin for half a second like really? before looking back at you,
“i’ve heard so much about your artwork,” she says, smiling, “no wonder he fell in love with you,”
your brain literally shut off,
“..i- what?”
woojin makes a noise, “okay let’s not-“
“you draw, right?” she continues, completely ignoring him, “he showed me once, like, a while ago, but he wouldn’t stop talking about it, it was really good!!”
you stare at him, but he immediately looks away, refusing to meet your eyes,
“woojin,”
“i don’t recall that,”
“you showed her my art???”
“in my defense,” he says, already backing up, “it was objectively impressive,”
jinwoo laughs,
“he was literally like, ‘look at this, isn’t it insane?’” she says, mimicking him just enough to be embarrassing,
“okay,” woojin says, “we’re done here,”
you snort, “no no, keep going, i’m learning so much,”
he groans, covering his face for a second,
“this is a setup,”
“which you set up yourself,” you say,
jinwoo grins, clearly entertained as well,
“for what it’s worth,” she adds, softer now, “i’m really happy for you guys,”
you look at her,
there’s nothing fake about it, no weird tension, no hidden meaning, just genuine warmth,
“thank you,” you say, a little more sincere than you expected,
she nods, and her smile softens as she glances between you and woojin,
“take care of him,” she says jokingly, “he forgets to eat when he’s busy,”
“hey-“
“i knew it,” you cut in, “that explains so much,”
“wow,” woojin mutters, “i’m getting exposed from all directions,”
“you’ll survive,” you say sweetly,
“debatable,”
jinwoo laughs again, shaking her head,
“it was really nice meeting you,” she says to you,
“you too,” you reply, and you actually mean it,
“you seem good for him,” she smiles,
and something about the way she says it,
so easy and sincere, no weirdness in her voice at all, it makes everything click into place.
this isn’t a rivalry or unfinished business,
this is just.. two people who didn’t work out?
there’s no weirdness,
no jealousy clawing at your chest anymore,
it somehow feels like closure, in a way you didn’t even realize you needed,
when you walk away, your hand still in his, you don’t say anything for a second,
then-
“you showed her my art,”
“we’re not circling back to that,”
“we are absolutely circling back to that,”
he groans, “it was one time,”
“you were hyping me up to your ex,”
“i hype you up to everyone,” he shoots back, “don’t make this weird,”
you try to stay serious but you fail immediately,
“that’s actually kind of cute,”
“thank you,” he deadpas, “finally some appreciation,”
you bump his shoulder,
“you’re still weird,”
“and you’re still dating me,”
“yikes, don’t remind me,”
he laughs, squeezing your hand,
“are you okay now?” he asks, a little quieter,
you think about it,
about yesterday, about the stupid poem, about how your chest felt too full of things you couldn’t name,
and then about today,
about jinwoo’s warm smile, about how sweet and supportive she was even though she didn’t know you, about how easy it actually was,
and about how certain he was about getting your overthinking to stop,
“yeah,” you say, “i am,”
you glance at him,
“also, if she’s your first love-“
“don’t,”
“-then i’m clearly your favorite,”
he groans, “oh my god,”
you grin, “admit it,”
he looks at you, trying to hold back a smile and failing,
“yeah,” he says, “you are,”
and this time, there’s nothing in your chest except something warm and steady and yours,
he walks you to your next class like always, but right before you go in, he tugs your hand lightly,
“hey,”
you turn to look at him,
“we’re good, right?” he asks,
you nod, “yeah we’re good,”
he studies your face for a second, like he’s double checking, then smiles,
small and relieved,
“okay,”
he doesn’t let go this time,
instead, he steps a little closer and pulls you into a hug, nothing dramatic, just warm and steady, his chin brushing lightly against the top of your head,
you freeze for half a second,
he does this sometimes and it still catches you off guard,
but you relax into it, your arms wrapping around him,
“you were overthinking,” he murmurs,
“..i was not,”
he huffs a quiet laugh, “you were,”
you mumble something into his hoodie, but you don’t pull away,
after a second, he leans back just enough to look at you,
“i just didn’t want you thinking you were anything less than my favorite thing right now,”
you stare at him, “..you’re kind of cringe,”
“yeah,” he says, “but you like me,” he wiggles his eyebrows funnily,
“you’re slowly making me regret it,”
he grins, satisfied, and finally lets go,
“i’ll see you after school?” he asks,
“maybe,” you say, “if i survive math,”
“you won’t,” he says immediately, “but i’ll still see you,”
you snort, “okay, wow, thanks for the faith,”
he just laughs, then turns and starts walking backward for a second, like he doesn’t want to face away from you yet,
“don’t overthink,” he adds, pointing at you,
“don’t be annoying,” you shoot back,
“too late,”
and then he’s gone, disappearing into the hallway crowd,
you stand there for a second, smiling to yourself,
“hey!”
you look up, and jinwoo jogs over, slightly out of breath, holding a bright, slightly crumpled flyer,
“i was looking for you,” she says, handing it to you, “my best friend is organizing an art contest, for charity and stuff, and she’s been begging me to find people to join,”
you glance down at the flyer,
“i thought you might like it,” she adds, smiling, “since woojin finally introduced you and you’re the art woman herself, i figured i’d recruit you!!”
you blink,
“he really needs to stop glazing me to others,” you laughed,
“nah,” jinwoo says, giggling softly, “you’re kind of his whole personality now,”
you laugh, shaking your head, but you don’t miss the way your chest feels warm by the thought of it,
“so?” she asks, smiling widely, “you in?”
you look at the flyer again, then back at her,
“sure,” you say, “i’m down,”
“nice!! i’ll tell her, she’s gonna be so excited,”
she gives you a quick thumbs up before heading off, already calling someone’s name down the hall,
you glance down at the flyer one more time, then fold it carefully and tuck it into your bag,
and for the first time in a while, your heart feels quiet,
like it finally understands and accepts how it is,
maybe love isn’t about never having a past,
maybe it’s just knowing, without a doubt, where you stand now,
Hey! Could you write something about Woojin… maybe him teaching his girlfriend, who's inexperienced in that area, about music composition and dance, but who's still trying to be interested in what Woojin is so passionate about… idk, just something cute and fluff
Woojin Drabbles— How he’d be as a bf
Themes: Fluff. Woojin x reader
𓏲ּ𝄢 Lounging in his dorm on late nights, sat on his lap, leaning back against his chest. He’d be whispering into your ear how everything works regarding making beats and recordings, typing away on the computer below while tracing absentminded circles against your waist. “You not tired baby?” his breath warm over your ear—chin pressed to your shoulder. “No, I wanna see how you work. It’s interesting”. His eyes shifted, turning his gaze lower to you—a lingering smile brightening his face “Really? You love me that much to stay, even if it bores you?”, “it doesn’t bore me” you murmured “I find it really cute when you concentrate”. His gaze flickered lower to your lips, leaning down—Woojin placed a gentle peck to your mouth “keep saying things like that and you’ll only get me further behind on this, pretty girl” . His arm wrapped firmer around your waist, nuzzling to the crook of your neck “Actually,” he paused “I think it’s me that’s getting tired now, let’s take a break babe”
𓏲ּ𝄢 Dedicating songs for you—not caring how corny he’d get on them, he’d never publish all of them anyways, some were kept between you and him, a cute little secret. During school—your phone buzzed. Woojin sent a text from his dorm, since he didn’t come to school today. ->(Baby, sorry to bother you in class. I made a new song for you, I’ll send the link. listen to it during school—think abt me❤️). You’d grin down at your phone, gaze darting around to the class—luckily everyone was distracted, so you’d click the link, turning your AirPods up higher. Up–beat music immediately drowned out your surrounding environment, following his sweet voice filling your ears—Woojin’s sultry voice expressing how he couldn’t be without you, needs you by his side—confessing his admiration towards you, claiming you, his girl. It made you feel less lonely without him, playing it during class, in between classes, in the bathroom, during lunch, walking back home. Eventually he’d call. “Did you like it? Had to make it for you, I’ve been thinking about you alone at school all day”
𓏲ּ𝄢Teaching you his choreo on days off before any of the other members got to see it—snacks piled up on the floor alongside waters as you two hung out. He wasn’t really focused on teaching you, just needed an excuse to stare at you for hours and your every move. “Aren’t you going to teach me something” he shook his head, walking up behind you “Unless you wanna be a trainee, you’re here for me”, his arms wrapped around your waist possessively—enveloping you in a back hug in front of the big dance room mirror, staring back at each other as he placed chaste pecks alongside your shoulders, his heavy breath on your skin. “Y’know this was a trap—to get you to hang out. I don’t even care about dancing anymore”, he teased—eyes glinting knowingly, showcased by the mirror where he was shooting daggers at you from.
𓏲ּ𝄢 Bf Woojin who’d spam your messages with his pictures—gallery flooded of selfies he took when you’d leave your phone unattended—he’d be doing the most basic shit and need to send you a picture of it, him beside his cat—smothering it, him mid shower—water droplets blurring the picture, him during tour—laid back in his hotel bed with Louis next to him, him half asleep—captioning it “Wish you were here, can’t sleep”. He’d rather send you selfies of his daily activities than text you it, but if he’s really missing you he’d just straight up call, sounding like a needy mess—unable to function properly without your touch, or his touch on you, whatever to quell his need for you.
Ayy my first Woojin work❤️hope y’all liked this ‘ask’.
Summary: OT4s reaction to you doing the “ seeing if he melts into the kiss “ trend.
Genre: fluff
MASTERLIST
Requests are open
Ohyul
You learn very quickly that Ohyul hates being perceived.
Which is exactly why this is funny.
He’s stretched out on the dorm couch like he pays rent, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other loosely holding his phone above his face. There’s music playing quietly from someone’s speaker, and the rest of the members are scattered around—some in the kitchen, some arguing over snacks, some just existing loudly.
Ohyul, however, is in his peace era.
You sit on the floor beside the couch, scrolling aimlessly until the TikTok pops up.
“Seeing if my boyfriend melts into the kiss.”
You glance up slowly.
Ohyul hasn’t noticed yet.
Perfect.
You watch another video. Then another. All the same format—slow lean-in, teasing pause, soft kiss—and every single boyfriend absolutely folding.
You bite your lip to keep from smiling.
“Ohyul,” you say.
He hums. Doesn’t move his arm from his eyes.
“What would you do,” you ask carefully, “if I kissed you right now?”
He scoffs. “Nothing.”
You tilt your head. “Nothing?”
“Yeah,” he says confidently. “I’m not one of those guys.”
You snort. “Those guys?”
“You know,” he says, finally lowering his arm just enough to peek at you. “The dramatic ones.”
You stand up.
He watches you suspiciously now. “Why are you standing.”
“No reason.”
“You just asked me a question and then stood up,” he says. “That’s a threat.”
You step closer to the couch. Slowly.
He sits up a little. “Hey.”
You don’t say anything. You just lean over him, hands planted on either side of his shoulders, trapping him in.
“Oh,” he laughs, already smiling. “You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“That thing where you act like you’re about to do something but you don’t,” he says. “I know your tricks.”
You lean in closer.
He holds his ground. Barely.
“I’m not melting,” he says preemptively.
You pause just before your lips meet his.
He squints. “Why are you stopping.”
You kiss him.
It’s quick. Soft. Barely a second.
You pull back immediately.
He blinks.
“…That’s it?” he says.
You shrug. “What?”
“That was literally nothing,” he says, smug. “See? Didn’t melt.”
You tilt your head. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
You lean in again—but this time, instead of kissing him, you press your forehead to his.
His hands come up on instinct, gripping the sides of your hoodie.
He groans. “You’re so annoying.”
You grin. “Your hands are shaking.”
“They are not.”
“They are,” you say. “Oh my god.”
He looks down at them, offended. “That’s crazy. Betrayal from my own body.”
You laugh and press another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He sighs. Not dramatically. Not loudly.
But definitely a sigh.
“Okay,” he says. “That one was cheap.”
You smile. “Scoreboard says you’re losing.”
“There is no scoreboard.”
You poke his cheek. “You’re blushing.”
He slaps your hand away. “Stop looking at my face like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re proud of yourself,” he says. “I don’t like it.”
You lean in again, clearly enjoying this now.
“Ohyul,” you whisper.
He braces. You can literally see it—shoulders tensing, jaw setting.
You kiss his nose.
He freezes.
Then: “You’re actually evil.”
You laugh and pull back just enough to see his face. His ears are pink. His mouth is twitching like he’s trying not to smile.
“That was a melt,” you say.
“That was not a melt,” he argues. “That was shock.”
You climb halfway onto the couch, knee beside his thigh.
“You’re smiling,” you say.
“I smile when I’m uncomfortable.”
“That is also not healthy.”
He suddenly reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you off balance just enough that you land against his chest.
You gasp. “HEY.”
Now he’s grinning. “My turn.”
You push at his shoulder. “Absolutely not.”
He dodges, laughing, and tries to poke your side. You squeal and shove him back.
“Fight me,” you challenge.
“I will,” he says, mock-serious.
You lean in like you’re going to kiss him again.
He leans away. “Nope.”
Instead, you peck his cheek.
He groans and drops his head onto your shoulder.
“Oh my god,” he mutters. “You keep sneaking them in.”
“That’s the point.”
“This trend is rigged,” he says.
You wrap your arms loosely around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.
He doesn’t push you away.
“That one didn’t count,” he adds, quieter now.
“Why not?”
“Because,” he says, adjusting so you’re more comfortable, “I wasn’t prepared.”
Your heart does that annoying little flip again.
You hide it by pressing a kiss under his jaw—light, quick.
He exhales.
Not a sigh this time.
A full, relaxed exhale.
You pull back slowly.
“Ohyul,” you say softly.
“…Yeah?”
“You melted.”
He opens his mouth to argue, then stops.
He stares at the ceiling for a second, thinking.
“…Okay,” he admits. “Maybe a little.”
You grin. “Admitting it is the final stage.”
He nudges your forehead with his. “Don’t make it weird.”
From the kitchen, someone yells, “WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO CLOSE.”
Ohyul tightens one arm around your waist immediately.
“Mind your business,” he calls back.
You laugh and kiss his cheek again.
This time, he doesn’t even pretend to resist.
Ryul
Ryul notices everything.
So honestly, the fact that you even think you can sneak this past him is bold.
He’s sitting at the small dining table in the dorm, chair tilted back slightly, one foot hooked around the leg like he’s daring gravity to test him. His phone is in his hand, thumbs flying as he texts—probably one of the members even though they’re literally in the next room.
You’re across from him, pretending to be invested in a bag of snacks that is very much empty.
You’re actually watching him.
You saw the trend earlier.
You haven’t said anything since.
That alone has him suspicious.
“You’re quiet,” Ryul says without looking up.
You blink. “Am I not allowed to be?”
“No,” he says immediately. “Not like that.”
“Like what?”
He finally looks up, eyes narrowing slightly. “Like you’re plotting.”
You smile. “I would never.”
He scoffs. “That’s crazy because you absolutely would.”
You stand up.
He straightens in his chair instantly. “Why are you standing.”
“I’m stretching.”
“You stretched like ten minutes ago.”
“I’m very flexible.”
“That didn’t answer the question.”
You walk over to him slowly, stopping right between his knees. He leans back just a little, hands gripping the edge of the chair.
“You’re too close,” he says.
“You’re dramatic.”
He laughs once, short and disbelieving. “You came over here on purpose. What are you doing?”
You lean down.
Not kissing yet. Just enough for him to feel it.
He freezes.
“…Why are you leaning like that,” he asks, voice lighter now, teasing but guarded.
You tilt your head. “What?”
“You’re doing the slow thing,” he says. “I don’t like the slow thing.”
“You never complained before.”
“That’s different,” he says. “That was intentional.”
“This isn’t?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it. “…Okay I don’t like that you’re winning.”
You grin and finally press a quick kiss to his lips—barely even there—then pull back immediately.
Ryul blinks.
“That’s it?” he asks.
You shrug. “What?”
“That wasn’t a real kiss,” he says, already smug. “You’re trying to rage bait me.”
“Am I?”
“Yes,” he says. “And it didn’t work.”
You watch him carefully.
The way his leg unhooks from the chair.
The way his hands slide from the edge of the seat to your waist without him even realizing.
“You’re gripping me,” you point out.
“No I’m not.”
You look down. “Ryul.”
He glances down too. Pauses.
“…Okay that doesn’t count.”
You lean in again—but instead of kissing him, you stop just short.
He groans. Loudly.
“Oh my god,” he laughs, tilting his head back. “Why are you hovering?”
“Testing something,” you say sweetly.
“You’re so annoying,” he says, but he’s smiling now. “I’m not melting.”
You finally kiss him again—another quick peck—and then immediately poke his shoulder.
“HEY,” he protests. “What was that for?”
“For balance.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
You step back, hands raised. “You’re still upright. Looks like you passed.”
He squints. “Passed what?”
“Nothing,” you say.
He narrows his eyes further. “You’re lying.”
You smile innocently.
He stands up suddenly, closing the distance again.
“Okay,” he says. “My turn.”
“For what?”
“For whatever game you’re playing.”
You barely have time to react before he leans in—but instead of kissing you, he bumps your nose lightly with his.
You laugh. “Oh that’s weak.”
“Oh really?” he says. “You laughed.”
“That’s not melting.”
“You’re soft,” he says confidently. “I win.”
“No you don’t.”
You grab the front of his hoodie and tug him down just enough to land another quick kiss—this time on his cheek.
His entire body freezes.
You see it.
Feel it.
He exhales slowly and drops his forehead onto your shoulder like the fight just left him.
“…You’re cheating,” he mumbles.
You laugh softly. “How?”
“You keep sneaking them in.”
“That’s literally the point of the trend.”
He lifts his head. “Trend?”
You freeze.
He grins. “Aha.”
“Okay,” you admit. “Yes. It’s a TikTok thing.”
“I knew it,” he says. “You’re trying to see if I melt.”
“You said it,” not me.
He scoffs. “I am not melting.”
You lean in again.
He braces this time—shoulders tense, jaw set.
You kiss his jaw quickly and pull back.
He sighs.
A real sigh.
Not dramatic. Not annoyed.
Just… comfortable.
You smile. “Ryul.”
“Don’t,” he says quietly.
“Your guard dropped.”
He clicks his tongue. “I relaxed.”
“That’s melting.”
“No it’s not,” he argues. “Melting is like—dramatic. I’m just… settling.”
You step closer again, arms sliding loosely around his waist.
He immediately wraps one arm around your back.
“See,” you say. “Clingy.”
“I am not clingy.”
“You pulled me in,” you point out.
“Instinct.”
You kiss his chin lightly.
He exhales again, this time resting his cheek against the top of your head.
“…Okay,” he mutters. “This trend is unfair.”
You grin against his hoodie. “So you admit it?”
He hesitates.
Then tightens his arm around you just a little.
“…Fine,” he says. “Maybe I melt. But only with you.”
Your chest does that dumb, warm flip.
From the hallway, someone yells, “WHY ARE YOU TWO GLUED TO EACH OTHER AGAIN?”
Ryul doesn’t even look up.
He nudges your shoulder with his chin and says, “Don’t care.”
You laugh and sneak one more soft kiss under his jaw.
He doesn’t protest.
Doesn’t pretend.
Just holds you closer.
Definitely melted.
Woojin
Woojin doesn’t even pretend.
That’s the difference.
You’re sitting at the dorm table, legs tucked under you, scrolling through your phone while chaos happens around you—someone yelling from the kitchen, someone else practicing choreo in the mirror for no reason. Woojin is beside you, chin resting in his palm, watching you instead of whatever is on his phone.
You catch him.
Again.
“You good?” you ask.
He hums. “Yeah.”
“You’ve been staring.”
“I know.”
You blink. “You’re not gonna deny it?”
“Nope.”
You squint at him. “That’s suspicious.”
He smiles, soft and easy. “I like looking at you.”
You groan. “You’re actually unbearable.”
“Correct,” he says. “And yet.”
You shake your head, laughing, and look back down at your phone—just in time to see the TikTok trend pop up.
Seeing if my boyfriend melts into the kiss.
You glance at Woojin slowly.
He’s already watching you again.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” you say, too innocently.
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s a lie.”
You stand up.
He immediately reaches out and hooks a finger around your sleeve. “Where are you going.”
“I stood up,” you say. “Relax.”
“I don’t like when you move without explaining,” he says calmly.
“You sound insane.”
“Whipped,” he corrects. “There’s a difference.”
You laugh and step closer to him, standing between his knees. He looks up at you, completely unguarded, hands already settling on your hips like that’s where they live.
“You gonna do the thing?” he asks.
“What thing?”
“The slow lean,” he says. “Everyone’s been doing it.”
You freeze. “You’ve seen the trend?”
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s cute.”
You narrow your eyes. “You were just gonna let me try it.”
“Absolutely,” he says. “I’m curious.”
“You’re not even nervous?”
He shrugs. “I already know the outcome.”
“And what’s that?”
He smiles wider. “I melt. Instantly.”
That makes you laugh so hard you almost forget what you were doing.
“You’re not supposed to admit that.”
“Why not?” he says. “It’s true.”
You lean down anyway—slow, teasing, hovering just close enough for him to feel your breath.
He doesn’t tense.
Doesn’t brace.
Doesn’t fight it.
He just relaxes.
His shoulders drop, hands warm and steady on your waist, eyes softening like he’s already home.
“You see?” he says quietly. “Look at me. Gone.”
You kiss him—but it’s quick. A soft peck. You pull back immediately.
He sighs happily.
“Yup,” he says. “That did it.”
“That’s it?” you tease. “No denial? No ‘I didn’t melt’?”
He shakes his head. “Why would I lie?”
You poke his cheek. “You didn’t even try to resist.”
“I don’t want to,” he says simply.
Your heart does that stupid thing again.
You hide it by kissing his nose.
He smiles so hard his eyes almost disappear.
“Wow,” he says. “Another one.”
“You’re counting?”
“Of course,” he says. “I treasure these.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You love it.”
You lean in again, slower this time, stopping just before your lips meet.
He tilts his head up instinctively, following you.
“You stopped,” he murmurs.
“You’re supposed to wait.”
“I am waiting,” he says. “Patiently.”
You laugh and finally give him another quick kiss—this one on the corner of his mouth.
He exhales, content, and rests his forehead against your chest.
“See?” he says. “Melted.”
“That was barely anything.”
“And yet,” he says, arms sliding fully around your waist, pulling you close, “I’m gone.”
You thread your fingers through his hair lightly.
“You’re proud of this?”
“Extremely,” he says. “You’re my favorite person.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“That’s committed.”
From across the room, Ryul yells, “WHY ARE YOU TWO ALWAYS TOUCHING.”
Woojin doesn’t even look up.
“Because I’m lowkey whipped” he calls back easily.
There’s a pause.
“…At least you’re honest,” Louis mutters.
You laugh and try to pull back, but Woojin keeps you right where you are.
“Wait,” he says. “One more.”
“For what?”
“You leaned earlier,” he says. “My turn.”
He leans in—not slow, not teasing—just bumps his forehead against yours gently.
Then he kisses your cheek.
Soft. Quick. Familiar.
You gasp dramatically. “HEY.”
He grins. “You melted.”
“I did not.”
“You did,” he says confidently. “Your shoulders dropped.”
“Whatever”
You kiss him again—another light peck—and this time you’re the one who lingers just a second longer.
He hums, satisfied.
“Yeah,” he says. “There it is.”
“There what?”
“My favorite thing,” he says softly. “You.”
You groan and hide your face in his shoulder. “You’re so whipped it’s embarrassing.”
He tightens his hold just a little.
“Good,” he says. “I hope everyone knows.”
From the kitchen: “WE KNOW.”
Woojin laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Worth it,” he says.
You smile.
He didn’t melt.
He stayed melted the whole time.
Louis
You find out about the trend on accident.
You’re sprawled across the dorm couch, half-listening to whatever argument is happening in the kitchen—something about instant ramen etiquette—when a TikTok pops up on your phone.
“Seeing if my boyfriend melts into the kiss.”
You squint.
Replay it.
Then replay it again.
Louis is sitting on the floor a few feet away, back against the couch, gaming console in his hands. He’s focused, tongue poking slightly into his cheek, fully locked in. Comfortable. Unaware.
Perfect.
You slide off the couch quietly and hover behind him.
He notices immediately.
“Why are you looming?” he asks without looking up.
“I’m not looming,” you say. “I’m… existing.”
“Menacingly,” he adds.
You snort.
You step closer and nudge his shoulder with your knee. He finally looks up at you, eyebrow raised.
“What do you want?”
You shrug. “Can’t I just hang out with my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes. “You only talk like that when you’re about to do something weird.”
You grin.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I am extremely correct,” he says, setting the controller down. “What’s up?”
You don’t answer. Instead, you bend down just slightly so your faces are close.
Not kissing.
Just close.
Louis freezes.
“You—” he laughs nervously and leans back a little. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
You tilt your head. “Like what?”
“Like you’re about to bite me.”
“Maybe I am.”
He scoffs. “You’re so fake.”
You lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips—barely a second—then pull back immediately.
He blinks.
“That’s it?” he says.
You shrug again. “What?”
“That was nothing,” he says, smug now. “I didn’t melt.”
You bite your lip to keep from smiling. “Didn’t you?”
“Nope.”
You lean in again, slower this time—but instead of kissing him, you stop just short.
Louis groans and drops his head back against the couch.
“Oh my god,” he laughs. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” you ask sweetly.
“Hovering,” he says. “It’s evil.”
You finally kiss him again—another quick peck—then pull back and flick his forehead.
“OW,” he yelps. “Why would you do that?”
“For science.”
He stares at you. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You love me,” you say.
He smiles despite himself. “Unfortunately.”
You try again—this time you grab his cheeks gently, squishing them just enough to annoy him before landing another kiss.
“HEY,” he protests, laughing. “You’re literally harassing me.”
“You’re smiling,” you point out.
“I smile when I’m stressed.”
“I don’t think that’s healthy king.”
He reaches up suddenly and pokes your side.
You squeak and swat his hand. “Oh no you don’t.”
Now it’s on.
You push his shoulder lightly, and he pretends to dramatically lose balance, falling sideways with an exaggerated groan.
“Assault,” he says. “I’ll be reporting this.”
“You started it,” you argue, climbing halfway over him to pin him down. “Admit it.”
“Never,” he says, trying—and failing—to look serious. “You’ll never break me.”
You lean down like you’re going to kiss him again.
He braces. You can tell. His hands already come up to your waist.
Instead, you boop his nose.
He bursts out laughing.
“BRO.”
“That’s one,” you say proudly.
“One what?”
“One melt,” you say. “You laughed.”
“That’s not melting!”
“Your guard dropped.”
He gasps. “You’re making up rules.”
You grin. “That’s how trends work.”
He reaches up and pulls you down into another kiss—still short, still playful—but this time you’re the one caught off guard.
When you pull back, he’s smirking.
“See?” he says. “You melted.”
“No I didn’t.”
“You absolutely did,” he says. “Your shoulders dropped.”
You blink. “You’re analyzing my posture now?”
“Yes,” he says. “I’m very invested.”
You lean your forehead against his. “Admit it. You’re losing.”
He sighs dramatically. “Fine. Maybe. A little.”
“A little?” you tease.
He shrugs, arms sliding loosely around your back. “You’re just… annoying in a way I like.”
Your heart does a stupid little flip.
You hide it by kissing his cheek quickly.
He freezes.
“…Okay that one was uncalled for,” he says quietly.
You pull back. “What?”
“That one almost got me.”
You smile. “Almost?”
He laughs under his breath and squeezes you closer—not tight, just comfortable. Familiar.
“I don’t melt,” he says. “I just… soften.”
“That’s literally the same thing.”
“No,” he insists. “Melting sounds dramatic.”
You kiss his jaw.
He sighs.
“…Okay maybe I melt.”
From the kitchen, Ohyul yells, “WHY ARE YOU BOTH SO QUIET NOW?”
Louis doesn’t answer.
He just nudges you with his nose and whispers, “Don’t put this on TikTok.”
You grin. “No promises.”
He groans—but he’s smiling, arms still around you.
Helloo as a fic suggestion can you pleaseplease make it woojin x reader and irs i spired by ejeh and never let go YEARNER WOOJINNN. Like they meet again as idols????
I love this idea so I worked hard on this one because it reminds me of something I went through (sorry if it’s rlly dramatic) I hope you enjoy🩷🩷
Never let you go
► Pairing | Idol!Woojin x Idol!reader
► Synopsis | You and Woojin were best friends who secretly loved each other, but when he finally confessed, you ran away and cut him off. A year later, you’re reunited through a collaboration, forcing you to face the past. After an emotional confrontation, you both choose to start over instead of losing each other again.
► Word count | 5.4k
► warnings | made up names and group(for reader), was kinda made in a rush.
You and Woojin used to be inseparable.
Ever since you were kids, the two of you had done almost everything together. You went to the same school, walked home along the same streets, shared snacks during lunch, and spent countless afternoons talking about anything and everything. Somewhere along the way, what started as a simple friendship turned into something deeper. Both of you developed feelings for each other, the kind that lingered in quiet glances and small moments—brushing hands when walking side by side, staying on the phone late at night just because neither of you wanted to hang up.
But neither of you ever said anything.
The friendship meant too much. You were both too afraid that one wrong move could ruin the bond you’d built over the years, so the feelings stayed hidden beneath jokes, teasing, and comfortable silence.
As you got older, another dream slowly started to grow between you.
You both wanted to become idols.
It started as casual conversations—watching performances together, sharing songs you liked, imagining what it would be like to stand on stage one day. Eventually, those dreams turned into something more serious.
One day, after weeks of talking about it, you both made a decision.
You would audition.
Not for the same company, though. You didn’t want to rely on each other for everything. If you were going to chase this dream, you wanted to do it properly—even if it meant walking slightly different paths.
When the results came back, neither of you could believe it.
You both passed.
The excitement was overwhelming. You met up that night and celebrated the only way that felt right—taking a late-night walk to your favorite park. It was the same park you had been going to for years, the place where you escaped whenever life felt too loud. Sitting on the swings, laughing under the dim park lights, everything felt the same as it always had.
At that moment, it felt like nothing between you would ever change.
But things did.
Training began, schedules filled up, and life started moving faster than either of you expected. Days turned into weeks of practice, evaluations, and exhaustion. Slowly, your worlds became busier and more complicated.
Woojin still tried to keep in touch whenever he could.
Even if it was just a short text asking how your day went or a quick call late at night, he always made an effort. The feelings he had for you never went away—in fact, if anything, they grew stronger.
But for you… everything felt overwhelming.
The pressure of training, the fear of failure, the constant feeling that you had to work harder and be better—it all piled up. Sometimes you would see Woojin’s messages and think, I’ll answer later.
Later turned into tomorrow.
Tomorrow turned into next week.
Eventually, the distance between you grew without you even realizing it.
It wasn’t that your feelings disappeared. They were still there, buried somewhere deep inside you. But your focus had shifted so much that you didn’t know how to face them anymore.
Woojin noticed.
He noticed the shorter replies. The missed calls. The long gaps between conversations that used to come so easily.
After months of barely seeing each other, he decided something had to change.
So he asked you to meet him.
At your favorite park.
When you arrived, it felt strangely familiar and distant at the same time. The swings creaked softly as the two of you sat side by side, just like you had countless times before.
For a while, neither of you said anything.
The silence wasn’t awkward—just quiet. Peaceful, even. The cool night air brushed past you as the city lights flickered in the distance.
Then Woojin took a deep breath.
You glanced over at him, immediately noticing the tension in his shoulders, the nervous way he gripped the chains of the swing. It wasn’t like him to look so unsure.
He had been planning this moment for a long time.
Today was the day he would finally say what he’d been holding inside for years.
Slowly, he turned to face you.
When he started speaking, the words didn’t come out carefully or perfectly rehearsed like he had imagined. Instead, everything spilled out at once.
He told you about the feelings he had been hiding for years.
About the way he always looked for you in a crowd.
About how every small moment—walking home together, laughing at stupid jokes, sitting in this very park—meant more to him than you probably realized.
He talked about the late nights when he wanted to call you but worried you were too busy.
About how becoming an idol had changed so many things, but somehow his feelings for you never changed.
If anything, they only became clearer.
You sat there, listening to every word.
Frozen.
It felt like time had stopped while he spoke.
When he finally finished, the park grew quiet again.
Woojin waited.
He watched you carefully, hoping—maybe even expecting—that you would say something.
Anything.
But your mind was completely blank.
Your heart was racing, thoughts crashing into each other faster than you could understand them. Everything felt too sudden, too heavy, too real.
You didn’t know how to respond.
You didn’t know what the right answer was.
So instead…
You ran.
You stood up without saying a word and ran away from him.
You didn’t even look back.
Even now, you weren’t sure why you reacted that way. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the pressure of everything happening at once. Maybe it was the realization that if you answered him honestly, everything between you would change forever.
Whatever the reason was, you couldn’t face it in that moment.
After that night, you stopped answering his calls.
His messages stayed unread.
Days passed. Then weeks.
Part of you hoped that maybe distancing yourself was the best thing you could do—for him and for yourself.
But deep down, you couldn’t ignore the quiet thought that kept returning.
You hadn’t run away because you didn’t care.
You ran because you cared too much.
That was a year ago now.
A full year since that night at the park. Since the confession. Since the moment you turned around and ran without giving him an answer.
Life hadn’t slowed down since then.
A few months ago, you finally debuted with your group. Everything you had worked toward during those exhausting trainee days had finally paid off. Your group quickly gained attention—your performances were strong, your music was well received, and your fanbase seemed to grow bigger every day. Schedules filled your calendar, interviews became normal, and stages that once felt like distant dreams were now part of your everyday life.
From the outside, everything looked perfect.
You were living the dream you had always talked about.
But sometimes, late at night when things finally got quiet, your mind would drift back to that moment a year ago.
Back to the park.
Back to Woojin.
You tried not to think about it too much. Whenever the memory started creeping in, you pushed it away and focused on practice, work, or anything else that would distract you.
Still… it was hard to completely ignore.
Even though you would never admit it out loud—not to your members, not to your staff, not to anyone—you kept up with Woojin and his group. Sometimes you would see clips of their performances online, or an interview would pop up somewhere while you were scrolling. Every once in a while, you would quietly listen to their songs.
Just once.
Just to see how he was doing.
And every time you saw him smiling on stage, laughing with his members, looking like he was doing well… a small sense of relief settled in your chest.
You told yourself he was fine.
You told yourself that running away that day might have actually helped him move on.
That maybe things worked out better this way.
But what you didn’t know… was that the reality was very different.
Woojin still thought about you.
More than he wanted to admit.
You had been his best friend for years—someone who understood him better than almost anyone else. Losing that connection so suddenly left a space in his life that never really filled back in.
Even after a whole year, certain things still reminded him of you.
A song you used to play all the time.
A park bench that looked like the one where you used to sit together.
A random memory that would surface out of nowhere in the middle of the day.
Sometimes he caught himself wondering if things would be different if he had just stayed quiet.
If he had never confessed.
Maybe you would still be talking. Maybe you would still be laughing together like before. Maybe nothing would have changed.
Other times, he wondered if the real mistake had been yours.
If running away meant you never cared the same way he did.
Those thoughts left him conflicted.
Part of him felt hurt. Part of him felt angry. And another part of him still missed you more than ever.
Some nights he couldn’t even tell if he was more upset with you… or with himself.
Despite everything, he still kept up with your career.
He watched your group’s live broadcasts when he could. Sometimes he listened to your music during long practice sessions or late drives back to the dorm. Seeing you succeed should have made things easier, but instead it just reminded him of how close the two of you used to be.
You were both living the dream you once talked about together.
Just… not together anymore.
Every once in a while, he would wonder if you might reach out one day.
Maybe a message.
Maybe even just a short “How have you been?”
He thought about contacting you too.
More times than he could count.
But every attempt ended the same way. His messages never went through, and he eventually realized he had probably been blocked or removed long ago. After that, he stopped trying—not because he didn’t want to talk to you, but because the silence felt like its own kind of answer.
Still, deep down, he couldn’t completely let go of the hope that somehow the two of you would cross paths again.
That fate, coincidence, or pure luck might give him one more chance to see you.
And one day…
That chance actually came.
Woojin had just finished practice with his group when their manager gathered them together to explain their upcoming schedule. It was nothing unusual—another collaboration video, another performance recording.
Their group had been invited to visit another company to film a dance performance for a special video project.
At first, Woojin didn’t think much of it. It was a pretty normal thing in the industry.
But then the name of the company was mentioned.
Your company.
And not just that.
Your group too.
For a moment, Woojin genuinely thought he had misheard.
His heart jumped so suddenly it almost startled him. He had to force himself to stay calm while the rest of his members reacted normally, discussing the filming and joking around like it was just another schedule.
Inside, though, his mind was racing.
After an entire year of distance… he was finally going to see you again.
It took everything in him not to completely lose his composure right there. If anyone had looked at him closely, they might have noticed the way his hands clenched slightly or how his expression froze for just a second.
But he managed to keep it together.
Barely.
The filming was scheduled for two days later.
Two days.
That was all the time between him and the moment he might finally see you again.
For the first time in a long while, Woojin felt something he hadn’t felt in months.
Hope.
Now all he had to do… was wait.
The two days passed normally for you.
Too normally.
Your schedule was packed like always—practice, vocal training, quick breaks that didn’t feel like breaks at all. By the time you got back to the dorm each night, you were too tired to think about anything other than sleep. If there was something different about the upcoming days, you didn’t notice it.
To you, it was just another routine.
Another practice.
Another step toward staying at the top.
So when you walked into the practice room that day, nothing felt out of place. Music echoed softly through the speakers, your members were stretching or chatting quietly, and the familiar mirrors reflected the same scene you saw every day.
You dropped your bag to the side and sat down, bending forward to tie your shoe, completely unaware that today wasn’t going to be “normal” at all.
What you didn’t know… was that everyone else did.
Every single one of your members knew about your past with Woojin. They knew about the friendship, the distance, and most importantly—they knew about that night.
And they also knew you.
If they had told you about today’s schedule earlier, you probably would’ve panicked. Maybe made an excuse. Maybe avoided it completely.
Maybe run away again.
So they didn’t tell you.
Not until they had no other choice.
Your leader, Minji, was the one who finally stepped forward. She had been watching you for a moment, clearly trying to figure out how to say it.
You glanced up briefly, noticing her standing there.
“What’s up?” you asked casually, still focused on tying your shoe.
There was a pause.
Long enough for you to feel it.
Something was off.
You looked up again, this time more carefully, narrowing your eyes slightly when you caught the expression on her face.
“…What?” you asked, more cautious now.
Minji let out a small breath before speaking.
“So… today isn’t a normal scheduled practice.”
You tilted your head, confused.
“What do you mean?”
“We have a collaboration video,” she said.
Your expression immediately brightened.
“Oh, sweet! With who?” you asked, a small smile forming as you finished tying your shoe and sat up properly.
For a second, no one answered.
That silence was all it took for the uneasiness to settle in.
Minji hesitated, then quietly said, “…Longshot.”
The name hit you instantly.
Your eyes widened, and it felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs.
Woojin’s group.
You were going to see him.
After an entire year.
After everything.
Your hand instinctively ran through your hair as your thoughts started racing, your heart picking up speed in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Minji…” you started, your voice quieter now, unsure, overwhelmed.
“I know,” she said quickly, stepping closer and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I know you’re upset, Y/n. But we needed our best dancer here for this. We couldn’t risk changing formations last minute.”
There was guilt in her voice, but also firmness.
This wasn’t just about you.
It was about the group too.
Before you could respond, another member walked over, clearly having been listening the entire time.
Ivy.
She crouched slightly next to you, her expression softer but just as serious.
“If he says anything to you… or does anything you don’t like,” she said carefully, “just tell us. We’ll handle it.”
Her tone wasn’t aggressive, but protective.
It made your chest tighten in a different way.
You let out a slow breath, leaning your head back slightly as you stared up at the ceiling, trying to calm the storm of emotions building inside you.
Fear.
Guilt.
Nervousness.
Regret.
All of it came rushing back at once.
But this time… you didn’t run.
After a moment, you exhaled and nodded slightly.
“It’s okay,” you said, your voice steadier than you expected. “I need to stop running away anyway.”
The words felt heavy, but honest.
“He deserves answers…if he even wants to speak to me.” You chuckle.
For a second, the room went quiet.
Then, almost all at once, your members visibly relaxed. Shoulders dropped, tension eased, and a collective sense of relief filled the space.
You noticed it immediately—and couldn’t help but let out a small, breathy chuckle.
“Wow,” you muttered, shaking your head slightly. “You guys were really worried, huh?”
“Obviously,” Ivy said, nudging your arm lightly. “You’re kind of unpredictable when it comes to him.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite behind it.
Just nerves.
“So…” you asked after a second, trying to ground yourself. “When are they coming?”
Minji pulled out her phone, checking the time.
“In like…” she paused, then looked back up at you. “Ten minutes.”
Ten minutes.
Your stomach dropped.
Any sense of calm you had just built instantly wavered. A heavy pit formed in your stomach, twisting tighter the more you thought about it.
Ten minutes until you saw him.
Ten minutes until you had to face everything you had been avoiding for an entire year.
You swallowed, your fingers tightening slightly against your knee as your mind raced through a thousand possibilities.
What would you say?
Would he be angry?
Would he even want to talk to you?
Would things be awkward… or worse?
You weren’t ready.
Not even close.
But you stood up anyway.
Because this time… you weren’t going to run.
A few minutes later, one of the staff members poked their head into the practice room.
“They’re here.”
The words immediately made the room feel smaller.
Your members all glanced at each other for a second before their attention shifted to you. Even though you had said you would face it, everyone could still see the tension in your shoulders.
You inhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself.
This was it.
You straightened your posture and quickly stretched your arms like you normally would before practice, pretending everything was fine. On the outside, you looked calm. Inside, though, your heart was beating so loudly you were sure someone could hear it.
Then you heard footsteps in the hallway.
Multiple pairs.
You held your breath.
The door opened.
Walking in first was their CEO, Jay Park, alongside your group’s manager. They were talking casually, discussing filming plans like it was any other work day.
Behind them, the members of Lngshot followed.
Ohyul.
Louis.
Ryul.
And then—
Woojin.
The moment you saw him, your heart jumped so hard it almost hurt.
Even though you had seen him plenty of times online—music show clips, interviews, random performances—it felt completely different seeing him in person again. He looked older somehow. More confident. The sharp trainee features you remembered had matured, and the stage presence he’d gained over the past year made him seem brighter somehow.
Meanwhile, Woojin stepped into the room and instinctively scanned the space.
He wasn’t looking at the mirrors.
He wasn’t looking at the staff.
He was only looking for one thing.
You.
The moment his eyes landed on you, everything else in the room seemed to disappear for him.
It felt strangely similar to seeing an ex after years apart.
Except you weren’t exes.
And it hadn’t even been that long.
Just one year.
But that year had changed everything.
The two of you locked eyes for a brief moment.
It felt longer than it actually was.
Your chest tightened instantly, and before your mind could process the feeling, you looked away first.
The room filled with polite introductions. Members greeted each other, bowing slightly and exchanging friendly smiles.
Your group introduced yourselves.
Then Lngshot introduced themselves as well.
Everything felt oddly normal considering the storm happening inside your head.
After the greetings, Jay Park and your manager stepped forward to explain the plan for the video.
The concept was simple.
Both groups would learn a short section of each other’s choreography for a collaboration video. Half of your group would perform one of Lngshot’s songs, while half of their group would perform part of your choreography.
Easy enough.
To keep things organized, they paired members based on age.
Oldest with oldest.
Youngest with youngest.
The moment that detail was mentioned, your stomach dropped.
Because you were one of the youngest in your group.
And so was Woojin.
Of course he was.
You stared at the floor for a second, mentally preparing yourself.
This really had to happen, you thought.
Soon enough, Woojin and Louis walked toward you and the other youngest members to begin practicing your choreography.
Even before he reached you, you could feel it.
Woojin’s gaze.
It was fixed on you.
Not angry.
Not cold.
Just… watching.
You tried your best to act normal, but you barely spoke while explaining the dance. One of your members ended up doing most of the talking for you while you demonstrated the movements silently.
At one point, you glanced sideways.
Woojin was still staring.
But what you didn’t expect…
Was that he smiled.
And waved.
A small, casual wave—like nothing had changed.
Like you were still the same two people who used to sit on swings at the park and talk for hours.
Your chest tightened.
He smiled.
After everything.
After the way you ran away from him.
After a full year of silence.
He was still looking at you like that.
Like you were still important to him.
You quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the choreography.
The rest of the schedule went surprisingly smoothly.
You all practiced the routines, corrected small mistakes, and filmed the collaboration video. Everyone laughed a few times when someone messed up a move, and the atmosphere stayed light.
Eventually, filming wrapped up.
You managed to get through it.
Barely.
But the emotional weight of everything finally caught up with you.
“Excuse me,” you muttered quietly to your members before slipping out of the practice room.
You told them you were going to the bathroom, but really…
You just needed air.
You walked down the hallway until you found a quieter corner where no one could see you. Leaning back against the wall, you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to slow your racing heart.
Everything felt overwhelming.
Seeing him again.
His smile.
The memories.
You pressed the back of your head lightly against the wall and exhaled slowly.
Then suddenly—
Running footsteps echoed down the hallway.
At first, you assumed it was one of your members coming to check on you, so you didn’t move.
But then you heard your name.
“Y/n?”
Your heart skipped.
That voice definitely didn’t belong to one of your members.
It was Woojin.
He turned the corner and stopped immediately when he saw you standing there.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
You slowly lifted your head, meeting his eyes again.
“Y/n…” he said softly.
It had been so long since you heard him say your name out loud.
The sound of it felt strangely familiar… and painfully distant at the same time.
The two of you stared at each other in silence.
Seconds passed.
Then the emotions you had been holding back all day finally broke through.
Your eyes filled with tears, and you quickly looked down, embarrassed by how fast they appeared.
“I’m sorry, Woojin.”
The words came out shaky.
It was the first thing you had said to him in an entire year.
Woojin didn’t respond right away.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Before you could react, he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you into a hug.
You froze for a second… then hugged him back.
Woojin didn’t hesitate.
He didn’t push you away.
He didn’t question it.
All he knew was that he had missed you, and seeing you like this hurt more than anything else.
“I’m sorry for ghosting you,” you sniffled against his shoulder. “I’m sorry for not giving you an explanation.”
“Y/n, it’s okay,” he interrupted gently, rubbing your back in slow circles.
But the tears didn’t stop.
Woojin sighed softly, thinking for a moment before speaking again.
“Do you remember…” he started with a small chuckle.
“You remember when you used to call me at two in the morning just to tell me random things?”
Your shoulders shook slightly as you laughed through your tears.
“And then we’d end up talking until the sun came up,” he added.
The memories hit you instantly.
You wiped at your eyes, half laughing, half crying.
“Are you trying to make me cry more?” you muttered.
Woojin smiled softly.
“Sorry.”
Just then, his phone started ringing.
He pulled back slightly and glanced at the screen.
It was Jay Park.
“Shit,” Woojin muttered under his breath.
He looked back at you quickly.
“Can we talk later?”
You nodded slightly.
“Where?”
Woojin smiled faintly.
“At our park.”
Your heart softened immediately at the words.
Our park.
You nodded again.
“8 p.m.,” he said quickly before taking a few steps backward.
Then he turned and jogged down the hallway toward the practice room.
You stayed there for a few more minutes, leaning against the wall as everything replayed in your mind.
The hug.
His voice.
The memories.
It all happened so fast it barely felt real.
Eventually, you wiped the last of your tears away and took a deep breath.
Then you pushed yourself off the wall and walked back toward the practice room.
Tonight, you thought.
Tonight you would finally talk.
The time came faster than you expected.
One minute you were back in the dorm, trying to act normal around your members, and the next you were staring at the clock, watching the minutes slip closer to 8 p.m.
Your chest felt tight.
You knew you should probably tell someone where you were going. At least text Ivy. At least say something.
But you didn’t.
Because if you did, it would make it real.
So instead… you just left.
Quietly.
You grabbed your jacket, slipped on your shoes, and walked out before you could second-guess yourself. The night air hit your face as soon as you stepped outside, cool and calming, but it did nothing to slow your racing thoughts.
Every step toward the park felt heavier than the last.
Memories followed you the entire way.
The same streets you used to walk together.
The same turns.
The same quiet familiarity that now felt almost distant.
By the time you reached the park, your heart was beating so loudly it drowned out everything else.
And then you saw him.
Woojin.
He was pacing back and forth near the swings, running a hand through his hair every few seconds like he didn’t know what to do with himself. The same swings you used to sit on were right behind him, gently swaying in the night breeze.
He looked nervous.
More nervous than you had ever seen him.
Your footsteps must’ve been louder than you thought, because he suddenly stopped and looked up.
The moment his eyes found you, everything else faded.
“Y/n!”
He didn’t hesitate.
He ran over, stopping just in front of you, a little out of breath, like he had been holding that energy in for a while.
“Hi, Woojin,” you said softly, giving a small nod.
For a second, neither of you knew what to do.
“Uh…” he glanced around awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Let’s—let’s go sit.”
He pointed toward the swings.
You nodded and followed him.
The two of you sat down side by side, the metal chains creaking softly as you settled in. The same familiar sound from years ago.
But this time, it felt different.
Heavier.
The silence stretched for a moment.
Not uncomfortable… just full.
“So…” Woojin started, rocking his swing slightly. “How’s life?”
You let out a small breath.
“Successful,” you said automatically. “My members and I are—”
“No,” he cut in gently.
You paused, turning to look at him.
He met your eyes, his expression more serious now.
“No, Y/n. How are you?”
The question caught you off guard.
For a second, you didn’t know how to answer.
Then you looked down at your hands.
“…Tired,” you admitted quietly. “Honestly, I just… I wish I could have one day where I actually rest. Like really rest. Sleep properly. Eat properly.”
You let out a shaky breath.
“Everyone expects so much from me now. I feel like if I slow down even a little, everything will fall apart.”
Your voice softened.
“I don’t know how long I can keep up like this.”
Woojin nodded slowly, his expression understanding.
“I get it,” he said.
Of course he did.
He was living the same life.
“What about you?” you asked, glancing over at him.
He gave a small, tired chuckle.
“I’m kind of in the same boat,” he said. “Different schedule, same pressure.”
For a moment, it almost felt normal again.
Like the two of you were just… talking.
Then the silence came back.
But this time, it felt heavier.
Woojin looked down, his foot lightly dragging against the ground to keep the swing moving.
“Why did you go?” he asked quietly.
You froze.
“W-what?”
He didn’t look at you.
“Why did you run that night?”
The question you had been avoiding for a year finally sat right in front of you.
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.
“At the time…” you started slowly, “everything felt like too much.”
You swallowed.
“I had training, pressure, expectations… and then my feelings for you on top of that.”
Your grip tightened slightly on the swing chains.
“When you confessed… it wasn’t that I didn’t feel the same.”
You glanced at him briefly before looking away again.
“It was because I did.”
Your voice shook slightly.
“And I didn’t know how to handle that along with everything else. I was already overwhelmed, already exhausted, and suddenly… everything became real.”
You let out a breath.
“So I did the only thing I could think of.”
You gave a small, bitter laugh.
“I ran.”
Silence.
“I thought… if I just disappeared, it would make things easier. For both of us.”
Your voice softened.
“But I was wrong.”
Woojin finally looked at you.
There was something in his eyes—hurt, but not anger.
“I wish you would’ve told me, Y/n,” he said quietly. “I thought you hated me.”
Your chest tightened instantly.
“You always told me I mattered to you,” he continued. “And then one day… you were just gone.”
His voice wasn’t loud.
But it hit harder than if it was.
“We could’ve worked something out.”
“I know,” you said quickly, your eyes stinging again. “I know, Woojin. And I’m so sorry.”
Your voice broke.
“I missed you so much it hurt. I still do.”
You shook your head slightly.
“If I could go back and fix it, I would. I’d do everything differently.”
Before you could say anything else, he reached over and grabbed your hand.
You stopped.
“Maybe we can fix it now,” he said softly.
You looked at him, surprised.
“We don’t have to go back to how things were all at once,” he continued. “We can take it slow. Start over… and build everything back.”
He gave you a small, hopeful smile.
“Everything we missed.”
You stared at him, your heart racing.
“…Sorry,” he added quickly, starting to pull his hand back. “Was that too much?”
Before he could fully let go, you tightened your grip and held his hand.
“That sounds good,” you said, a small smile forming.
For a second, Woojin just blinked at you.
Then his expression lit up, his smile widening in a way you hadn’t seen in so long.
“You have to unblock me though,” he added, letting out a soft laugh.
You laughed too, the sound coming easier than you expected.
“I promise I will.”
There was a lightness now.
Something that hadn’t been there before.
Woojin looked at you, his expression soft but serious.
“This time, Y/n…” he said. “Don’t ever let go.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly.
“…Are you quoting your own song right now?”
He paused.
Then both of you burst into laughter.
Real laughter.
The kind where you couldn’t stop, where your shoulders shook and your eyes watered. The kind that felt familiar—like something you thought you had lost.
And in that moment, sitting side by side on those swings again, it felt like everything had come full circle.
Not the same as before.
But not broken anymore either.
Woojin glanced at you through his laughter, his chest warm in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He had you back.
And you…
You finally stopped running.
Maybe things wouldn’t go back to exactly how they were.
Summary: You've shown interest in boxing in the past and your friend offers to give you a little lesson that doesn't last very long...
Pairing: Woojin x Friend!reader
Genre: Fluff, Suggestive
Warnings: Praise kink, they make out, reader feels his boner
Word count: 1.3k
Authors note: MY BABYYY WOOJINNN :')) I did a mix of fluff and suggestive because the pole was pretty even but if you have any ideas or suggestions feel free to send them in!! Also i feel like this had to have been done before but I mean what can we expect trainer!woojin is so freaking hot i love him... okay enjoy hehe <3 likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated:p
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"Does it always smell this bad in here?"
Woojin sat cross-legged on the mat in front of you, head tilted as he took an exaggerated sniff of the musty gym air. “Hmm, I don’t smell anything,” he replied.
You curled your lip in disgust. “Never mind.”
He chuckled under his breath and reached for the roll of hand wrap as you extended your right hand toward him.
His palm was strong and callused against your hand, and the moment your skin met his, a faint flush crept up the back of his neck.
You watched him closely from above as he began looping the wrap around your wrist and between your fingers, the brush of his fingertips sending tiny sparks up your arm.
“I love this hair on you,” you said quietly after minutes of silent observation.
Woojin’s eyes lifted to yours, the brown in his eyes lighter this close and suddenly shy. The corners of his mouth lifted, genuine and shy.
“You’re the only one who told me not to cut it.”
You pouted. “Well, your long hair was so pretty.”
His blush deepened and spread across both cheeks. He ducked his head, pretending to focus on the wrap, but you still caught the way his ears went pink and the silly little grimace he made to play it off. You couldn’t help your grin; the contrast between his usual loud, ridiculous persona and this flustered version of him made you giddy.
When he finished wrapping both hands, he helped slide the gloves on, then he stood, offering you a hand up.
“Alright, rookie. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Inside the ring, Woojin demonstrated the basics, starting with the proper stance. You mirrored him, suddenly nervous under his assessing gaze, and he tilted his head before shaking it and moving around your figure until he was behind you.
His hands settled lightly on your shoulders first, then your hips, adjusting your stance with gentle but firm pressure. Every intimate point of contact sent your heart in a frenzy. He was so close you could smell the faint trace of his cologne over the overpowering scent of the gym.
“Feet like this,” he murmured, tapping your ankle with his foot. “Shoulders relaxed. Good. Now jab like this.”
He sounded different from what you were used to, more serious. His voice was low as he rattled out instructions, and you felt your own skin begin to burn.
You tested the jab a few times in the air with both fists before he slid his own mitts on, gesturing for you to punch his raised arm.
You did exactly as he showed you. His hand barely moved, but the solid thud of impact made his eyes widen.
“Whoa—okay, that had power.” Surprise colored his tone, quickly melting into a bright, proud laugh. “Again. Harder.”
You worked harder than you had in a while, desperate to impress him. Sweat began to bead at your temples, sliding down your neck as your breathing picked up.
Each time your glove connected, he screamed out words of encouragement, acting as if you’d just knocked out a heavyweight.
“That’s it! Again—good girl.”
The words caught you by surprise as you stumbled, your balance vanishing. Your cheeks burned hot and you turned away quickly, gloves on your knees while you tried to catch your breath.
“What happened?” he asked, stepping closer, voice filled with confusion.
You heaved in another breath and turned back toward him, immediately regretting it when you saw just how good he really looked. His sweat-damp hair stuck to his forehead, his tank clinging to his chest, his muscles on full display. You had to look away again.
“You can’t just say that…”
He blinked before slowly realizing what you meant. “Say what? Good girl?”
Your face burned hotter. You groaned his name into the padding of your gloves, mortified.
Woojin laughed, bright and delighted, clearly enjoying every second of your suffering. “I’m only asking a question."
You huffed, ripped the gloves off with shaking hands, and made a break for the ropes. He was after you in an instant, long legs eating up the short distance. What started as an attempt to escape turned into a ridiculous fight—him grabbing at your waist while you swatted at him with half-hearted slaps, both of you laughing and breathless. The struggle lasted maybe ten seconds before he caught you properly, strong arms gripping around your middle and hauling your back flush against his chest.
“Woojin,” you breathed.
He hummed, the sound vibrating against your spine. “Are you done fighting me?”
Your breath shook. “Y-yes.”
You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he dipped his head, his lips brushing the side of your neck. “Good girl.”
Your knees buckled; only the strength of his arms kept you upright. He kissed your neck fully with slow, open-mouthed brushes, followed by the scrape of his teeth and the soft press of his tongue.
One of his hands splayed wide across your waist, then slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, palm hot against your lower belly as he pulled you even tighter against him. The hardness that pressed against your lower back made your next exhale come out as a whimper.
“Woojin—”
He groaned against your shoulder, the sound echoing in the quiet gym, and you twisted in his arms to face him. You didn't expect him to look so wrecked—eyes wide and dark, lips parted, expression so open and desperate it stole your breath. This strong, ridiculous man looked like he was about ready to do anything you asked of him.
A rush of want and power surged through you. You cupped his chin and tugged it down, his lips meeting yours.
The first brush was soft, almost careful, both of you testing the waters. Then something in him—his patience—snapped. He devoured your lips, all the intensity you had only ever seen him unleash in the ring suddenly focused entirely on you.
His hands were everywhere—sliding up your back, gripping your waist, threading through your hair. When your tongue slipped past his lips, he made a broken sound and hauled you up, hands under your thighs until your legs locked around his waist.
You cupped his flushed cheeks and kissed him harder, tasting the salt of his sweat and the faint mint of the gum he’d been chewing earlier.
He pressed you back until the ropes of the ring dug into your skin so he could kiss you even deeper.
The heavy clang of the gym door opening barely registered to you until Gunwoo's voice disturbed the silence.
“Mom, I’ll call you back.”
You whipped your head around to look at him, your legs sliding down Woojin’s body until your feet met the floor. The three of you stared at one another as you and Woojin caught your breaths, each of you waiting for the other to break the silence.
Gunwoo eventually did with a delighted smile when he looked straight at Woojin and said, “You finally told her you like her.”
Woojin’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. He shook his head frantically, making a slicing motion across his throat, and Gunwoo’s smile dropped as he realized his mistake.
You turned to Woojin with a satisfied grin, but his murderous eyes remained locked on his best friend.
Before he could speak, you cleared your throat, still flushed and breathless. “Well, I’ll leave you boys to it. I’m gonna go home and shower.”
Woojin’s hand shot out, catching your wrist. He pouted—lower lip jutting out as his big, round eyes finally met yours. “Where are you going…?”
“...home,” you repeated, patting his chest with your free hand. “...to shower. And get out of this smelly gym. Bye!”
You flashed him one last mischievous smile, gathered your things, and slipped out of the gym. The door swung shut behind you, but not before you heard Gunwoo’s sheepish voice.
“How was I supposed to know you didn’t say anything… You were kissing each other.”
Woojin groaned loudly, the sound followed by an exaggerated mocking of Gunwoo’s disappointed tone, and you were almost 100% certain that he he rolled his eyes right after.
