♰ a/n: bf woonhak headcannons wherein he’s too downbad so he lets you do anything you want to him and he WILL comply with whatever antics you’re up to. based on this clip 📼 yay! i had fun writing these and i hope yg have fun reading it too
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bf! woonhak who replies with “no” after you ask him to wash the dishes because you had just stolen his favorite character in mario party. in the same minute, he proceeds to make his way over to the sink anyway because he just wanted the feeling of saying no but couldn’t actually bring himself to mean it.
bf! woonhak who pretends to be irritated by you laughing at your reels just so you can show it to him. “why are you laughing so loud???!” “hak look 😭😭😭” you face your screen towards him and he bursts out into laughter. the two of you end up watching reels together for an hour straight until both of your cheeks start to hurt from laughing.
bf! woonhak who hates when his members tease him by lifting up the sleeves of his shirt to show his arm muscles but secretly loves when you do it to him. at first he’d be kinda shy but after knowing that you enjoy seeing his arms he lets you do it to him as many times as you want. sometimes he’d even do it himself while talking to you because he knows you’re going to get distracted.
bf! woonhak who can’t help but love when you start braiding his hair or when you give him little pigtails. his pride and ego completely dissipates when you’re around—he endures every moment if it means you’re having fun. he’d pretend to complain and yet once you stop and do something else on your phone, he’d look over and say, “…why’d you stop?”
bf! woonhak who is the type to be lying down on the couch perfectly at peace while listening to music. it stays like that until you flop down on him, which earns you the biggest groan known to mankind as if you had just crushed every bone in his body… in the middle of his little tantrum he doesn’t notice but one of his hands are already reaching to rub your back.
bf! woonhak who always HAS to take photobooth pictures with you because you have an obsession with them. every photobooth you see you must take. he would complain and say “it’s a waste of money and paper” yet he sticks it on his pegboard and decorates it as soon as he gets home.
bf! woonhak who cannot resist you fixing his hair in public, even if he’s grumbling, “stop… people are looking.” meanwhile, he’s already lowering his head just so you won’t have a hard time reaching it. same goes for fixing his collar whenever he likes to wear his loose polo over a tank top. he just thinks it’s cute that you want to make him look presentable anytime anywhere and lowkey wants to let others look.
bf! woonhak who gets afraid to move because you’re sleeping so comfortably on him. his legs could feel numb and like they’re about to fall off. he could desperately need a glass of water. but no. none of that is important enough for him to get up and disturb you.
bf! woonhak who always wants to pay for the food, no matter if it was his or your idea to eat out. “this one’s on me!” you say, holding your money up and blocking his hands from reaching into his wallet. he argues back saying he wants to do it but backs down seeing you get so happy to pay. you happily smile at him as he puts the money in the bill, not knowing he had already switched his with yours.
bf! woonhak who has gotten used to hearing, “hold this really quick,” before random things start getting thrown onto his hands. your phone. your bag. your shopping basket. at this point, he automatically reaches out and ends up holding your things for not a “really quick” time.
bf! woonhak who enjoys grocery shopping with you. normally, if he were alone, shopping for food would feel closer to a chore. but when you’re there, he loves it mostly because you keep trying to sneak snacks into the cart while insisting, “we need this.” he always notices but chooses to laugh and pay for them anyway.
bf! woonhak who wants to be needed by you. he still gets a little smile every time he hears you call his name from another room. no matter what he’s doing, he drops it and shouts his automatic answer, “coming!”
because living with you—even sharing the most ordinary days with you—means that things get twice as long to finish and simple moments turn into ones he’ll always remember. laundry takes more time because you keep distracting him and dinner comes by later because cooking turns into dancing in the kitchen. little by little, errands start feeling more like dates. and yet somehow, every inconvenience becomes his favorite part of the day, simply because it leads to spending more time with you.
──── working a minimum wage job at a bakery and being a functional college student is hard enough, but giving one of the richest boy at your school food poisoning... ( reader ) has to do everything in her power to get woonhak not to sue, even if it means getting him to fall in love 𓈒
pairing ┆ rich!woonhak x fem!reader 🥞
🫓 content smau slice of life crack fluff college au mentions of vaping mentions of alcohol convenience of love angst profanity suggestive ++ more 。━━ ft bnd, stella h2h, haerin njz, anton riize, 'nd maki &team
💌 haiiii!!!! sua finally writing smth 🥹🥹🥹 i genuinely thought of this while trying to clean burn stains on my oven sooo idk . also thankyew maybabie for confirming my idea wasnt stupid asf 🫡🫡
profile 🥖 #burgering🍔 worldstarr
𓋫།⠀⠀𓈒 chapters coming soon 🤍𓏼 release date: tbd
taglist 🥞 crickets. . . ( send an ask to be added / comment )
Woonhak is amazing when it comes to academics. He ranks high, never low, in any result he receives. English is his best subject, and yet, his book smarts fail him when it comes to reading himself—why is he all flustered around you, the girl he's strictly only supposed to tutor?
OR IN WHICH . . . Woonhak trying to figure out his feelings for you is like a test that isn't open book. Something he's good at, but struggles when it comes to a real life situation. If he is to say that he loves you, he only wonders how you'd reply.
THE PAIRING -> nerd!woonhak x fem!reader ( ft. jaehyun from boynextdoor )
⤷ THIS CONTAINS ────୨ৎ──── oneshot school au ( they are juniors ) romcom tutor x tutee loser!woonhak ( pushing that loser!bnd agenda lool ) ( 6O18 WORDS ! )
NOTE -> thank you soph for sending me that glasses woonhak edit yesterday morning we say in unison... it was lifechanging guys ( literally lifechanging because i spent a good twenty minutes binging woonhak edits a little after.... found one to the song loser by cheeze and now here we are!!!!!!!!!! ) playlist is linked in the title too!
QUESTION ONE — WHAT WOULD YOU SAY?
It’s happening again. Woonhak’s face is running red, his palms are becoming sweaty, his glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose, and he’s stumbling over his words. And it’s all because you’re in front of him.
Today’s a Monday—the day where he tutors you. Unfortunately, it’s the only day he tutors you too. He regrets not deciding on more days when the two of you first started planning out a perfect schedule. It’s not like he has to devote his time to his six hour study sessions everyday. He could definitely spend another day or two with you.
“That’s not right.” He says, followed by a swallow. He pushes his glasses, bringing them back to their original spot as he points at the right answer.
“It’s this one.”
Math is also something Woonhak is good at. He loves it. The satisfaction after seeing his final answer match the answer key. It’s the best, really. He wishes he could feel the same satisfaction once he figures out why he feels this way when he’s with you. What overcomes him, making him react in a way he’s never reacted before?
His attention shifts from the worksheet to you. The puzzled expression on your face as you try to piece together the steps in your mind makes him smile. It always does, but he doesn’t know why. Is it because it gives him a reason to explain the answer even further? Or is the reason the fact that he gets to spend more time with you without needing an excuse?
“Oh! I get it now.” You gasp and pick up your pencil to write down notes before you forget. Woonhak’s happy at the fact you’re starting to understand the unit more and more every time you meet each other.
It’s torture.
It’s torture because it only happens once a week. When you ask to meet an extra day for an upcoming test or extra practice, he's overjoyed. Although those are rare occasions, he’s always crossing his fingers behind his back whenever you come up to him. He wants you to ask. He’d gladly give you his time. Even if it never comes, he continues to hope it will during every other interaction.
“I’m glad…” He mutters, the same soft smile on his face.
Your eyes widen at the time, noticing how you’ll be late for dinner if you don’t leave now. You gasp again, gaining the boy's attention almost immediately.
You’re hastily packing up your things as Woonhak watches in silence. He knows what words are about to leave your mouth. It’s not like this would have stayed forever, though he wanted it to. He can’t do anything because he’s not in control of it.
“Sorry, I have to go.” You apologize and swing your backpack over your shoulder. He gives you a small smile, followed by an ‘it’s okay’ which pains him to say. It’s not okay. He wants to be near you longer. Today felt so much shorter than before.
But why does he want to be near you longer? You’re just the girl he tutors… and the girl who makes him feel things he’s never felt before. Things that he can’t seem to put his tongue on. He can't name it because he doesn’t know what it is. The only obvious thing to him is the fact it’s not normal. Woonhak has never felt some type of way with his other tutees. So, why is it different with you?
Why are you different?
His hand finds its way into his hair, softly pulling at the strands. He’s frustrated. And it’s not because of his homework, it’s way more frustrating than any words on the page are. It’s you and the way your voice wouldn’t leave his head. It’s on repeat—looping like the same videos he watches to teach him extra things everyday, making him go crazy.
What are you doing to him?
He stares at his chemistry notes. If only understanding what the feeling he has when he’s around you was as easy as solving a chemical reaction using the Ideal Gas Law. How many moles were produced in the new chemical? Easy. He can solve that with his eyes closed.
This isn’t a chemical reaction. The way he feels is nowhere near it. He can’t easily solve what he’s feeling with a formula created by men from the 1830s. Perhaps if he prays hard enough, they’ll come back alive and create one for him personally. Just one to help him organize his headspace better.
Tough luck. There’s no way that will ever happen. Nothing works in his favour. If he were to receive a test about this, he wouldn’t even know what to study for. The results would be his first ever zero—not even a passing grade at this point. He wouldn't even be close to earning something like that.
Woonhak groans, clawing at his scalp with both hands. It’s only 8:30 p.m. A few hours before he has to sleep according to his perfect sleep schedule. The one he’s perfected as a child: sleep at 10:30 p.m. every night to wake up at 7:00 a.m. every day. A perfect eight hours and thirty minutes of sleep is enough to keep him going through the school day.
A perfect sleep schedule that he’s perfected as a child.
The one that he perfected as a child only to ruin it as a 17-year-old. Woonhak’s lying on his back and staring at his ceiling fan that spins slowly. His room is pitch black, due to the black out curtains he invested in. They help him stay focused when he studies because there’s no light to distract him.
But right now? Right now they’re suffocating. His room is so quiet—too quiet for him to sleep. His thoughts are overclouding him. They are all too much for him to have a peaceful rest.
Fuck it.
He flips over onto his side, reaching for his phone on the nightstand in a swift motion. The screen is blaring and bright in his dark and gloomy room as he squints. The clock reads 2:23 a.m., which is obviously way past the time he gets into bed. The fact he’s been trying to sleep for the last four hours only clicks moments after.
He’s failing miserably.
The voice in Woonhak’s head is telling him to turn off his phone and try again, but his heart is saying otherwise. He goes against the voice and unlocks his phone. He flicks through his apps, avoiding the one he wants to click on badly. The app that could be the answer to all his problems.
Safari.
He pauses and stares at the blue, red, and white icon. He swallows thickly as his thumb hovers over it. It does circles alone, the circles over his other thumb, before he’s clicking the app with no second thought. It opens up a new web page—step two of reaching the solution to all his problems.
His bottom lip gets caught underneath his teeth as he presses letters on the keyboard. He starts with an I, then hits the space bar. It’s followed by four letters d-o-n-t, then another hit of the space bar. He halts his movements. He doesn’t know why he’s so hesitant. This is something he wants to figure out, and yet, he’s holding back from doing so. It feels like he’s about to see his final grade for a course he took, but worse. Ten times worse.
Woonhak wishes he could use his knowledge and figures this out himself. He’s smart, but there are some things he doesn’t know. This is definitely one of them. He sighs as he continues to type the rest of words out into his search bar. Once he presses enter, he’s brought to the results. There are many of them. He doesn’t know which one he should click.
He reads. Scrolls. Reads. Then scrolls until he finds a result that matches his situation like a theory that matches its observations—perfectly—and clicks on it. It brings him to a website he’s never seen before because one, he’s never looked up such a thing, and two, when has he ever felt this way until now? Never.
I get flustered all over when I'm near a certain someone, what does this mean?
The original poster is in the same boat as Woonhak. They don’t know what their sudden feeling of happiness and the heat that rushes to the palms of their hands as well as their face means. Neither does Woonhak.
The comments appear as he scrolls. They are all saying the same thing, over and over again.
You like them. You have a crush on them. It’s feelings, you like them.
“Like, like like them?” Woonhak whispers to himself. He knows what crushes are. His friend talks his ear off about them all the time, but he never pays much attention to it. Either he’s reading a book or revising notes for his next period. However, now that he thinks about it, whenever Jaehyun boasted about his crush, he’s mentioned feeling the same way Woonhak does when he’s near you.
He likes you?
The two of you only met four months ago at the first ever peer-tutoring meeting. He remembers it vividly. The way you rested your chin in your hand, fingers softly drumming against your cheek to a rhythm you made. The way you chimed into the group conversation whenever you had a question. The way you looked around the classroom in search of a student whose name appeared on your acceptance form. The way you smiled at Woonhak when you matched his name to his face. The way his heart did a slight flip when he saw it. He thought you caught him looking at you, because, in all honesty, he was throughout the whole meeting. But when the meeting comes to an end, and you’re heading his way with the idea of starting a conversation and getting to know each other in your head, he knows that wasn’t the case.
When the words tutor and Woonhak leave your mouth within the same sentence, that’s what confirms his forming thought. He’s going to spend the next six months with you as your tutor, and you’ll be his tutee.
That was it.
His attention is brought to his phone at the sudden incoming notification. His gaze goes from the contact picture of the selfie you took of both of you at your second meeting, where you caught him off guard, to the contact name beside it. It’s nothing special. Everyone in Woonhak’s phone has their full name as their contact, yet Woonhak feels his heart rate increasing like the numbers on a number chart. (Last Name) (Name), it says with a message underneath.
(Last Name) (Name): ignore the fact that i’m awake so late, i was actually studying for once! but look, i got my grades back for the last test you helped me with. we passed with an 89!!!! we did it!!!!
He blinks. The first message disappears within the speed of light as another one appears, taking its place.
(Last Name) (Name): thank you woonhak! :) see you tomorrow, goodnight!
He reads it again and again, letting it register within him. You said thank you, and included his name in the message. You even said goodnight to him, hinting at the fact you’ll definitely see him tomorrow no matter the zero classes with each other.
Heat shoots up Woonhak’s neck and he’s turning off his phone, placing it back onto the nightstand with its screen facing down. He grabs one of his spare pillows and shoves his face in it all at once. He doesn’t know why such basic messages had this kind of effect on him. Maybe the comments he read earlier were right.
No, it’s not a maybe, they are right. He’s done questioning the way he feels when he’s near you, since finally—finally, he has an answer for it.
It’s because he likes you.
QUESTION TWO — IF I SAY,
“Jaehyun.” Woonhak calls from the doorway of his friend’s classroom. The boy takes out his left earbud at the sound of his name. He’s looking around the classroom for the culprit, but then his eyes land on Woonhak who stands at the door. He grins at the sight of his best friend and gets up from his desk as Woonhak moves away from their classroom entrance to let others walk in.
“What’s up?” Jaehyun asks, hand on the doorframe. “Did you run out of paper again? I have some lined paper in my backpack if you need.”
He points behind him and Woonhak reaches to put his finger down. Jaehyun’s left confused. He’s never this quiet, and neither are his responses ever late.
Jaehyun fully steps outside of his classroom, bringing Woonhak to the side. “Did something happen?” He whispers in case it wasn’t something he wanted to say out loud. Woonhak shrugs. He isn’t sure if it’s a bad thing that it happened, when it happened, or if it should even be put in the same sentence with the verb ‘happen’.
“Look,” he starts as Jaehyun leans in closer. “I know I’m not the type of person to talk about things like this but… Jaehyun, I like (Name).”
Jaehyun gasps, an alerting ‘what’ leaves his lips right after. Woonhak’s eyes widen through the lens of his glasses and he’s covering his friend's mouth fast.
“Quiet down!” He whisper-shouts, in hopes that it was enough to scold the older boy. “It’s shocking, I know. I’m the same boy who has his nose in any workbook possible. Trust me, I know that better than anyone.”
“Well, I mean, yeah, this is very extraordinary of you.”
Woonhak’s brows furrow at the usage of such an over-the-top word. “Is it that bad?” The boy asks, causing Jaehyun to fervently shake his head.
“Not at all. I was just surprised…” Jaehyun shoves his hands into his pockets. “Anyway, moving on from that, what are you going to do about it?”
“About what?”
Jaehyun blinks at the younger boy who innocently stares back at him. If he is to look any longer, he’s sure a question mark will appear beside his head. “Your crush, Woonhak. What are you going to do about it?”
Oh.
He hasn’t thought that far. He only came to terms with his feelings a few hours ago. Hell, he hasn’t seen you all morning. Honestly, he’s not sure how he will react if he does at all.
“I don’t know.” He says. It’s the truth. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do.
“Well, you should think fast because she’s actually coming our way right now…” Jaehyun says while looking over Woonhak’s head at you. The girl who has a stupidly excited grin on her face at the realization that the boy’s back in front of her is Woonhak’s.
“Goodbye!”
Jaehyun disappears from Woonhak’s sight, not giving him any time to register what is going on. The flats of his shoes are stuck in place when he tries to move. He can’t bring himself to do it. The way you’re calling his name from down the hall isn’t doing him any better too. His only other choice is to turn around and talk to you.
Not that he’s complaining, of course.
“Woonhak!” You cheer from behind, tapping his shoulder. He turns to the tap of your finger. It’s not like he wouldn’t have if you did anything else.
“Oh, (Name). Hey.” Woonhak gives you a small smile. His hands are behind his back, fingers twiddling with each other to keep them busy. He’s worried that if they stay still for so long, it’ll only cause his palm to become sweaty.
“I’m not sure if you saw my texts last night, but look!” You raise the marked test in front of him. He notices the 89% in red ink almost immediately and his small smile doesn’t falter.
“That’s great, (Name).” He praises.
He’s only praising you for your accomplishment and yet, you can feel your ears warming up. It’s the way he softly says your name that makes you react in such a way. It’s as if he’d wake up a predator if he said it any louder.
“Thank you…” You manage to say it even after a terrible attempt to clear your throat.
You aren’t sure when you started liking Woonhak. Was it the day of the first peer-tutoring meeting, or the day you took the pic of you two during your second tutor session? Was it way before that, when you first noticed him in your grade nine math class? You always found him interesting with how well he worked despite the loudness of your classroom. Maybe it was then when you decided you had eyes for him, but the constant tutoring sessions within the last four months helped finalize that feeling of yours.
It must have been fate with how you two ended up as tutor and tutee.
The hallways become crowded like they do during passing time, meaning the students’ lunch break has come to an end. Thank God for your luck because you aren’t sure how much longer you could last under his eyes.
“We should get going,” you begin, “I’ll see you whenever!”
Woonhak feels the same disappointing feeling he’d feel whenever you left at the end of your tutor sessions. Your interaction is cut short because of time once again. He really wishes he could spend all the time in the world with you whenever he wanted to.
His hands slap both sides of his face, causing his glasses to slip from the commotion. It’s like a repeat of last night, however this time, he isn’t confused about how he feels about you. Not at all. Instead, Jaehyun’s words play in his head.
They’re echoing through his ears as he tries to annotate a page of their novel study book in English. If he doesn’t focus, his assignment won’t get done. He always keeps his phone on silent and away from him when he’s doing work. He never reaches out for it—it was all a part of his ‘perfect’ routine growing up. But clearly, things changed with how he stayed up last night, and still are with how he’s reaching for his phone without completely finishing his work.
Wow, you really have an effect on him.
Once Woonhak unlocks his phone, he’s rushing to Jaehyun’s messages. There’s something bubbling inside of him like a chemical in a beaker on a hot plate. You don’t know what it is until you do your observations and calculations.
Maybe that’s exactly what Woonhak has to do.
Kim Woonhak: jaehyun.
Myung Jaehyun: woah, you scared me. what’s up?
Kim Woonhak: about confessing… how should i do it?
Myung Jaehyun: YOU’RE GOING TO DO IT?????
Kim Woonhak: i think that’s the best way to go about things, my feelings, i mean.
Myung Jaehyun: honestly, go with your gut!
Kim Woonhak: i’ve never done this before, you and i both know this.
Myung Jaehyun: then… give her a letter, you’re good at writing. do something you’re good at so it doesn’t screw you over.
A letter? He’s never written one before.
His English teachers during the past few years have said he’s good at writing, which always leads him to believe the same. Despite that, he doesn’t know if he’s capable of writing a letter—a love letter at that. And yet, here is trying.
He stares at the lined papers splayed out on his desk as he taps his blue pen against his jaw. It’s the pen you’ve complimented during one of your tutoring sessions. Apparently, it’s one of the best pens you’ve ever used.
It glides smoothly across paper with no bleeding or smudges.
Your words sound through his head as he writes on the page. You were right. He’s never taken note of the way his pens act upon paper. Now that he’s looking closely at the one in his hold, it is different from the other pens he uses.
Just like how you’re different from any other students he has tutored before.
The novel he was previously annotating is long forgotten as his focus continues to deepen in the letter he’s writing. It’s fine if he doesn’t get the assignment done now, it’s due in a few days anyway. He likes to be on top of his game, handing things in early so that he doesn’t fall behind with the rest, but here he is, writing an overdue letter pouring out his feelings for you.
It’s been a month or two since he’s started feeling this way near you. Not once did he ever think he likes you. Honestly, you’re the first crush he’s ever had. He always had his head stuck in notebooks, workbooks, textbooks, and fliers of new school supplies whenever he ran short. Not out, just short.
He’s used up a page and a half for this letter of his. Did it take a while? Yes. Whenever he made a mistake, he would restart, discarding the now scrap piece of paper somewhere on his desk. It’s not a beautiful sight to someone who’s all about perfection and tidiness. It would send the Woonhak from months ago into a spiral of emotions.
But now, he doesn’t care. All he cares about is putting in enough effort into this love letter and giving you his best words. The ones that manage to make all English teachers swoon.
QUESTION THREE — I LOVE YOU.
You’re in disbelief at the letter that falls out of your locker the moment you open it. It’s 8:27 a.m. on a Thursday—four days away from your next tutoring session with Woonhak. You held back from asking to see him sometime this week out of your shared schedule. It was a common occurrence in the past, nevertheless, things are different now. They aren’t the same—your feelings aren’t the same. They’ve intensified.
You even remember the way you panicked when sending him that late night text. You knew he wasn’t going to reply at the same time. There was no way he was awake, you know that, and still part of you hoped that he would. What would a perfectionist like him be doing awake during such late hours?
Pushing those thoughts aside, you stare down at the envelope in your hand. It’s signed off with the simple initials—the ones you always do a double take for whenever you see the two letters beside each other, KW.
Kim Woonhak’s initials.
Your stomach sinks. You have no clue what could possibly be inside the envelope. It’s too light to be anything other than a letter. But, what could he possibly write to you about?
After a bit of hesitation, you peel open the white envelope. The inside reveals a folded piece of paper. On the outside, there’s half a page of writing. Your gut feeling only gets worse. You’re not sure why you’re quick to think negatively. It might be the fact that you’re unsure if he likes you or not. Has he picked up on your feelings and this is his way of rejecting you? Woonhak doesn’t seem like the type to be able to come face to face with someone and tell them off.
You wouldn’t be shocked if this is his way of telling you off.
You’d unfold the paper, revealing a page filled with blue ink writing. With the way it didn’t bleed through the back and there are no smudges on the front, you’re able to tell exactly which pen he used. The one you took a liking to… the one you continuously saw him using after you said those things about it. The reason why you had some hope that maybe, just maybe, Kim Woonhak saw you the same way.
This letter will answer the question that roams through your head constantly: does he like me back?
Dear (Last Name) (Name),
I didn’t think I would ever write a letter nor did I ever think my first letter would be a love letter. To you. However, I’m not mad. I’m more happy that you’re my first. Honestly, I love all the time we spend with one another. It doesn’t fail to make me feel happy whenever I see your smile or hear your voice in the distance. Your company is one of my favourite things ever… but it’s also the thing that has the most effect on me.
The more time we spent with each other during our tutoring sessions, the more I realized, I don’t feel normal around you. I started asking myself questions almost three months ago, why do I feel a certain way when you’re near me? Why do my palms get sweaty and my face turns red when you’re beside me? Why can’t I get your voice out of my head even when it’s occupied with other thoughts during my studying sessions? As the numbers varied, the answers lessened. I couldn’t find the answer to any of my issues—the reason why I felt that way when you’re in my vicinity.
I wish love was as easy as mixing two chemicals in a beaker during chemistry class. I wish it was as easy as solving quadrantal angles, determining which of the primary trigonometry ratios are positive in what quadrants. As easy as annotating a book for English class, or writing an opinionated essay. Running laps in physical education, punching numbers into a calculator, or organizing my worksheets into a binder whenever I’m bored. But, it’s nowhere near that. It’s as chaotic as the chemical reaction between silver fulminate and potassium chlorate. It’s as confusing as your first glance at the unit circle. But it’s also interesting. It’s interesting to see how it can make one react. How much of a difference it makes in one's life.
You made a difference in my life. You’ve made me discover what it truly means to like someone. You’re the first person to ever make me feel this way. In every other life—universe even, to me, the answer will always be you. You’ll always be the person I’d want to experience this childish feeling with again. You’ll always be the first person on my mind every morning. If I ever lose my memories, you’ll be the first person I look for. I don’t care how long it’ll take me to remember, I’ll make sure I do, you can’t give up on me. You can’t leave my side because I would never leave yours.
I want all my firsts to be with you. My first kiss, my first ever date—anything and everything. I want to give you my all and spend the rest of my life with you. Spend the rest of our lives together.
What would you say? If I say, I love you. How would you respond, (Name)?
Sincerely,
Kim Woonhak.
QUESTION FOUR — HOW WOULD YOU RESPOND, (NAME)?
You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to feel. You don’t know where you’re going. And still, you’re speed walking. The letter is held tightly in your hand. The pressure isn’t enough to crumple the piece of paper, but it’s tight enough to make sure it doesn’t fall.
The way he used the blue pen that you said you liked, the way he paid close attention to his formatting and indented all his paragraphs, and the way he finished the letter with a dumb question that sadly, only you know the obvious answer to.
It bothers you. In a good way.
Your heart is racing, your face is overheating, and your mind is going crazy. It’s not because of the fast pace you’re walking at. It’s only due to the words in that letter—nothing else. Despite how badly you want to, there’s no way you’d find Woonhak now. You never see him until lunch time, and from what you know, he doesn’t check his phone in the mornings either.
You don’t want to wait till the end. You don't want to give him a response too late. You don’t want to give him false hope. So, you do the second best option on the list—writing him a letter back.
QUESTION FIVE — I LOVE YOU TOO.
Dear Kim Woonhak,
I truly didn’t expect this letter from you, but I can’t say that I’d complain either. I don’t have a fancy blue pen that doesn’t bleed through papers or smudge like you do. I don’t have the creativity to come up with ways to use words like you do, but I still want to confess as well. I don’t care if I’m not as capable of things like you are, that’s my last worry in the world. Seriously.
I’m unsure of when my feelings for you sprouted into what it is now. You caught my attention all the way in our shared math class during the ninth grade. I didn’t know your name or anything about you since you kept to yourself, but I always found myself glancing at you whenever the lesson came to an end. Part of me hoped that you’d turn around and finally notice me, but you never did. It’s been a while since I last saw you since that year ended. You weren’t roaming the halls like I was. You weren’t in clubs or doing sports like I was. I even thought you moved schools and decided to let go of what wasn’t a thing in the first place.
But then, I saw you again. It was during the first ever peer-tutoring meeting. I was beating myself up for even needing a tutor in the first place… it made me feel like a sore thumb in a group of perfectly fine fingers. The odd one out. Nevertheless, that ill feeling went away when I saw you sitting down. The way your glasses dumbly rested on your nose bridge and how you attentively listened to everything the members said. It didn’t fail to make my heart flutter like the wings of a butterfly. When reading my acceptance form, I wondered, who’s Kim Woonhak? I’ve never seen or heard the name before during my three years of being at this school, yet I still found myself hoping that it was you. I wanted to get closer to you. I can’t even express the happiness I felt when I matched the name on the green sheet of paper to the one sewed into your felt name tag. That was the only thing we had in common, red felt name tags attached to the same uniforms we wore. However, it wasn't enough. I wanted something more.
As we spent more time together, the want was never fulfilled. Then I realized, I don’t think I want to be just your friend. The desire of wanting something more was you. I wanted you as something higher than the friendship title. I wanted us to be more than friends. I never thought that day would come—you feeling the same as I do. I always thought it was a fragment of a dream that would never touch reality. The one I desperately waited for and held onto. It took a while, but it’s finally here, and I couldn’t be happier.
I’m not as good with my words as you are, but I hope I conveyed everything I wanted to say to you. I know you might be waiting to read my response too, so I’ll let you off that high of anxiety now… Kim Woonhak, if you were to ever say I love you to me. My response would be simple. It would be simple and meaningful.
I love you too.
Yours truly,
(Last Name) (Name).
The bell rings. It rings the moment Woonhak finishes your letter. It’s as if it was waiting for him to do so. Like it was under a time limit controlled by him and not the other way around. All jokes aside, the timing is perfect. It’s lunch time—the only time Woonhak ever sees you during the school day. He’s rushing out of the classroom, making sure to make it out before the other students do. He’s unsure of where he’ll find you at a time like this. Your run-ins with each other are always a coincidence.
How does one make a coincidence happen on purpose?
Well, they just do.
Woonhak pokes his head around in random classrooms as he moves further down the school hallway. So far, there isn’t a single sight of you. He needs to see you. He needs to confirm that everything in your letter was true and not just a response to his own.
He needs to know.
“Woonhak?” A voice calls, flustered and confused. His consciousness returns as he makes out the sight in front of him through his glasses. It’s you, the person he was dying to see. He doesn’t even realize that he found you. He doesn’t know when he did nor does he know when he took your wrist into his hand, halting your steps.
“(Name).” He exhales. His cheeks are rosy and his chest is slowly rising up and down as soft breaths leave his lips. Woonhak doesn’t want to let go of your wrist. He doesn’t want to face the fact that you might walk away from him.
“Did you mean everything you said in that letter?” Woonhak questions. Your gaze shifts from his face to the letter in the hand that rests at his side, then back on him. You nod. It’s true. You meant every single word that you wrote letter by letter.
You take this as a chance to ask him your own dying question. “Did you mean everything in yours?”
“Every little bit of it.” He breathes, finally catching up to his breath completely. “If this were an exam, my answer key would have hearts instead of bubbled in letters. I like—no, love. I love you that much.”
“I don’t want to let go, I’m afraid you’ll leave.” He finishes as he glances down at his hand on your wrist. You smile and shake your head at his words.
“There’s no way I’d do that. Not after hearing what you said here, Woonhak.” You shimmy your wrist slightly out of his tight grip, enough to turn your hand and intertwine your fingers with his.
“My answer still hasn’t changed. If you were to say that you love me. I’d always reply the same. I love you too.”
He can hear his heart beating in his ears. He never thought he’d ever hear you say those words at all. Not just to him. In general. He feels overjoyed, holding back the smile that fights its way through his stunned expression.
“(Name),” Woonhak starts, gaining your attention. Your head tilts as you wait for his next words.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks. He finally asks. The question you wanted to hear finally left his mouth.
You nod, your smile growing even wider. “Of course I will.”
The smile that Woonhak held back escapes. He’s too happy to even care about how stupidly in love he looks. It doesn’t matter to him. It doesn’t matter to you either. You’re both just happy at the fact you can finally call each other mine.
Honestly, Woonhak has learned a lot within the last week. There’s one more school day of the week with Friday being tomorrow. If there’s one thing that he’s sure about, it is his knowledge on love. Give him a test on it and he’ll ace it for sure. All thanks to you. You’re the one who taught him what he needs to know about loving someone. Something he’s never touched base on, excluding how he feels for his family. He loves them, of course he does, but he also loves you.
He’s learned a new concept in his life. One that he wouldn’t have been able to do alone—without you. Who would’ve thought your roles would ever change?
synopsis: You spent the past few months convincing yourself that your feelings for Kim Woonhak were nothing more than harmless curiosity. Just observations. Maybe, possibly just a tiny crush. But once you're asked to tutor him for the upcoming midterms, your carefully maintained distance begins to disappear, and suddenly, observing him from afar isn't nearly as dangerous as getting to know him.
pairings: classmate x tutor(?), Woonhak x fem reader
tags/warnings: fluff on fluff on fluff, slow burn, mutual pining, library study sessions, awkward flirting, study dates, Woonhak is literally sunshine and the greenest flag ever, Y/N internally screaming for the most part, Yunah(ILLIT) is mentioned, some BND members are mentioned here, happy ending!! this is not proofread btw^^
wordcount: 9.2k
fic below the cut!!
-----------------------------
There is a particular kind of torture in sitting three rows behind someone you've accidentally developed a crush on.
Not a real crush. You'd spent six months insisting that to yourself.
It was appreciation. Purely observational. The way you admired neat handwriting or an elegant mathematical proof. Nothing more.
Unfortunately, your brain had developed a habit of collecting details without asking permission first.
His name was Kim Woonhak. He always sat in the third row from the front, slightly left of center, where the afternoon sun reached him before anyone else.
People gravitated toward him almost instinctively.
Teachers stopped him in the hallway just to chat. Seniors greeted him like an old friend. Students from completely different classes somehow knew his name.
He greeted every single one of them with the same smile. Bright. Unforced. Completely genuine.
One afternoon, you'd watched him thank the cafeteria auntie with the exact same sincerity he used when greeting the vice principal. He accepted his tray with both hands, smiled, then walked away carrying two cartons of milk.
None of that information had ever been useful. Your brain simply...kept it.
You, meanwhile, preferred things that made sense.
Your notes were color-coded. Your planner existed in three different places. You arrived early to every class, finished every exam ahead of schedule, and had long since earned a reputation for being intimidating.
You never corrected anyone. People left you alone. You liked it that way.
Everything remained comfortably organized. Except for one increasingly inconvenient exception.
It had started with his laugh.
You'd been halfway through a macroeconomics chapter when something unexpectedly warm cut through your concentration.
You looked up.
Woonhak leaned back in his chair while one of his friends finished an undeniably terrible joke. His shoulders shook. His eyes disappeared completely beneath the brightest smile you'd ever seen.
You looked back down after three seconds. Then spent the next three weeks thinking about it.
It wasn't poetic. It was oddly specific.
He looked like a snowman.
Not because he looked cold. Because his smile reminded you of the cheerful snowmen from children's storybooks.
Soft. Round. Completely unguarded.
You quietly stored the observation away. Then returned to macroeconomics. Or at least...you tried.
"Hey, Y/N."
You looked up.
Myung Jaehyun stood beside your desk wearing the unmistakable expression of someone about to ask for a favor.
"You're at the top of the class, right?"
"So I've been told."
"Perfect."
He pointed across the classroom.
"Woonhak needs a tutor."
Your pen stopped.
Across the room, Woonhak was enthusiastically reenacting some story for his friends with enough dramatic commitment that two of them were already laughing before he'd even reached the punchline.
"And why," you asked carefully, "are you telling me?"
"Because I don't know anyone else who can explain the material."
"I am not a tutoring service."
"I know."
"I'm also not volunteering."
"I know."
"So why are we still talking?"
Jaehyun smiled.
"Because you're nice."
You stared.
"I think you've confused me with someone else."
"Nope."
"You definitely have."
"You just hide it better." His smile softened.
"He really is trying. I just think he needs someone capable of helping him."
You looked toward Woonhak again.
He happened to glance your way at the same moment before immediately returning to his conversation, completely unaware the discussion involved him.
You sighed.
"I'll think about it."
Normally, those words almost meant no. Apparently Jaehyun heard yes.
-----------------------------
The next morning, someone pulled the chair in front of your desk around and sat down backward.
"Hi."
You looked up.
Kim Woonhak smiled. Probably a bit too close to your liking.
"I'm Woonhak."
"I know."
"...Great. Saves me from introducing myself."
You blinked.
It suddenly occurred to you that Kim Woonhak might simply be immune to awkwardness.
"I heard you might be able to help me study."
"I said I'd think about it."
"I know."
His smile remained perfectly intact.
"I figured I'd make my case in person."
"And?"
"I'm much more convincing in person."'"I'm much more convincing in person."
Unfortunately... he wasn't wrong.
You'd spent the last six months safely admiring him from three rows away.
Now he was smiling directly at you, and your heartbeat had apparently decided professionalism was optional.
"What subjects?" you asked.
He counted on his fingers.
"Math."
Another finger.
"Chemistry."
Then another.
"...Most of the others."
"That's concerning."
"I know."
He laughed sheepishly.
"But I learn fast. And I promise I'll work hard."
You looked at him properly for the first time.
The grin he'd shown everyone else settled into something quieter.
"I'll owe you."
"You don't owe me anything."
"I could become your academic servant."
"I don't think that's a real occupation."
"It could be."
A tiny laugh escaped before you could stop it. His entire face brightened.
You immediately cleared your throat.
"...Wednesday."
His eyes widened.
"The library."
He sat up so quickly the chair nearly tipped over.
"Really?"
"Yes. Four o'clock."
"I'll be early."
"You'll be on time."
"I'll try."
"You don't sound convincing."
"I thought I was much more convincing in person."
"You've provided very little evidence."
He laughed all the way back to his seat.
The sound lingered in your thoughts long after the classroom had gone quiet.
-----------------------------
You arrived at the library fifteen minutes early.
Naturally. Everything here made sense. Books belonged on shelves. Silence had rules.
People respected both.
You had already arranged your notes when Woonhak appeared exactly two minutes before four carrying two drinks.
"So... I guessed."
He places the two drinks on the table, setting one in front of you. Brown sugar milk tea.
"I didn't know what you liked."
You looked up.
"So you guessed?"
"You seem like a brown sugar person."
"...What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
He shrugged.
"It just felt right."
"...That's your explanation?"
"It's a classic."
He unpacked notebooks that looked like they'd survived several natural disasters.
A pencil rolled across the table. He caught it without looking.
You picked up the drink before he noticed your expression.
"...We're doing math first."
To your surprise... he wasn't a bad student.
He learned quickly once someone explained why something worked instead of simply telling him the answer. When he concentrated, the energetic class clown disappeared completely.
He leaned over his notebook, quietly talking himself through each step under his breath.
"...Negative first."
A pause.
"...Carry the two..."
His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the page.
Rhythm. Not impatience.
You remembered he'd been writing songs long before you'd ever spoken to him.
Somehow... that made perfect sense.
"You've been staring at that equation for two minutes."
"I know."
"But you're smiling."
"I think I finally understand it."
There it was again.
That smile. Smaller than the ones he wore around everyone else. Somehow infinitely more dangerous.
You lowered your eyes before your face betrayed you.
"You missed a negative sign."
You pointed with your pencil instead of your finger. He leaned closer.
"...You're right."
He groaned dramatically.
"I celebrated too early."
"You celebrated before checking your answer."
"The academy never believes in me."
"The academy would like you to finish the worksheet."
"They have impossible standards."
"They have twenty-three remaining questions."
He sighed with theatrical despair before continuing.
A few minutes later, he slid the paper back toward you. You looked it over.
"Correct."
He threw both hands into the air. “I’d like to thank the academy.”
“The academy accepts.”
His grin widened. The corners of your lips betrayed you, lifting just slightly before you could stop them.
“You smiled.”
Your head lifted instinctively. A huge mistake.
He was already watching you.
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
"I don't think you have sufficient evidence."
"I watched it happen."
You managed exactly two seconds of eye contact before retreating to the worksheet.
"Eyewitness testimony is unreliable."
His laughter escaped a little louder than intended.
Someone glanced over your direction and he immediately ducked his head.
"...Sorry."
"You apologized."
"My mom would be disappointed if I didn't."
You smiled again before catching yourself. This time, you hid behind your drink.
The afternoon settled into an unexpectedly comfortable rhythm.
He asked thoughtful questions. You answered them. He listened carefully.
Not because he wanted the solution. Because he genuinely wanted to understand.
By closing time, you'd quietly put away the harder worksheets. He wasn't ready for them. Not anymore.
"You know..." He rested his chin in one hand.
"You're not as scary as everyone says."
You suddenly found the margin of your notebook fascinating.
"Sorry... was that weird?"
"No."
It wasn't. That was the problem.
Six months ago, Kim Woonhak had simply been the boy with the snowman smile.
Now... he was becoming a real person.
And somehow, that was so much more dangerous.
-----------------------------
Wednesday became a regular thing. Then Tuesday joined it.
Eventually, without either of you acknowledging when it happened, studying together simply became part of your routine.
Woonhak never missed a session. If anything, he became suspiciously punctual.
One rainy afternoon, he arrived carrying two umbrellas.
"I checked the forecast."
"You mean one forecast?"
"...Seven."
You looked at him.
"There are seven weather apps?"
"There are at least seven."
"...You have seven weather apps?"
"I have trust issues."
You accepted the spare umbrella anyway.
Questioning Kim Woonhak's logic had become a waste of energy.
He always brought something. A different drink because he wanted to know whether you preferred jasmine tea over oolong. A bag of chips with a sticky note that read: For when math gets evil.
You absolutely did not keep the note tucked inside your economics textbook afterward. That would've been ridiculous.
The study sessions settled into their own rhythm. The first half belonged to academics.
Woonhak no longer panicked whenever he made mistakes. Instead, he leaned into them.
"So why does this formula work?"
"What changes if this disappears?"
"Can I solve it another way?"
He wasn't memorizing anymore. He wanted to understand.
You liked that.
The second half inevitably drifted elsewhere. Chemistry became music. Music became favorite movies.
Favorite movies somehow became an argument over whether cereal counted as soup.
"It has liquid."
"It has cereal."
"So?"
"So it isn't soup."
"You're inventing rules."
"They're important rules."
"I don't think they are."
"They absolutely are."
He laughed so suddenly that he nearly dropped his pen.
You looked down before he noticed yourself smiling. That was becoming a problem.
Conversations had never been dangerous before.
Kim Woonhak used to exist safely three rows ahead of you.
Now he remembered that you disliked sparkling water because you'd mentioned it once. He quietly slid the blue highlighter toward you before you reached for it. He asked how your presentation went before asking whether he'd passed chemistry.
Your observations had become... personal. And somehow, that was infinitely worse.
"I want to hear that song you were working on."
The words escaped before you thought about them. You blinked and instantly regretted what you'd just said.
"...You don't have to play it."
His eyes brightened.
"No, I want to."
He pulled out his phone.
"It's unfinished."
"I won't judge."
"You absolutely will."
"I analyze."
He laughed.
"Right."
The recording lasted barely ninety seconds.
A warm guitar. Then his voice. Lower than you'd expected.
The melody felt gentle. Hopeful.
When it ended, you handed his phone back.
"The second half is stronger."
He frowned thoughtfully.
"It is?"
"You wrote toward the melody instead of with it. The lyrics and melody are trying to tell different stories."
He stared.
"...Yeah." His voice had gone quiet. "That's exactly what's bothering me."
"I'm glad the analysis helped."
"It always does."
You lowered your eyes before he noticed the smile threatening to appear.
The changes afterward were almost impossible to notice. Unless someone had spent months quietly studying him.
He started saving you a seat during homeroom. Never calling your name. Just moving his backpack the moment you arrived. You always sat beside him.
He also started texting. At first, it was just homework questions.
Then...
A blurry sunset.
Woonhak: this doesn't look real
A six-second voice memo.
Woonhak: does this melody sound okay?
A picture of another orange stray cat.
Woonhak: he ignored me too
You answered every message. That was your first mistake.
Looking forward to them became your second.
He also asked more questions that were not related to any of your study sessions.
"What do you listen to?"
"What do you actually do when you're not studying?"
"What made you like economics?"
He listened carefully. Not politely. Genuinely.
Weeks later he'd casually mention something you'd forgotten telling him. As though your answers mattered. As though you mattered.
You buried that thought beneath several layers of logic.
Kim Woonhak treated everyone kindly. This wasn't different. It couldn't be.
The argument became slightly less convincing each time you repeated it.
-----------------------------
"You like him."
You looked up so quickly you nearly dropped your chopsticks.
"...Excuse me?"
Yunah, your classmate, looked entirely too pleased with herself.
"You heard me."
"I tutor him."
"You also like him."
"I think he's nice."
"You've thought he was nice since October."
"...How do you know that?"
"I literally sit behind you."
Your heart sank.
"...And, you aren't exactly subtle."
"I wasn't looking at him."
"You absolutely were."
"I was observing."
"There it is."
She pointed a fry at you, dramatically. One that she stole from your own tray.
"You've convinced yourself that if you call it observing, it somehow stops being a crush."
"I just notice everyone's habits."
"No. There's a difference."
You sighed.
"You know what drink he buys. You know which hallway he uses. You know he hums while solving math."
"..."
"You accidentally admitted all of those."
"...Coincidences happen."
"They don't just happen for six straight months."
The teasing softened. Yunah rested her chin on one hand.
"You don't have to pretend around me."
"I'm not pretending."
"You kind of are."
You stared down at your lunch.
"...I didn't mean to notice. It just..." You laughed quietly. "...kept happening."
She waited.
"I thought it was just a harmless crush."
"And now?"
Your smile arrived before you could stop it.
"...Now he remembers things. He notices things. And somehow..." You shook your head. "...that's so much worse."
"Worse?"
"I wasn't supposed to get to know him."
The confession escaped before you could stop it.
"I thought if I stayed far enough away..." You laughed softly. "...it would stay simple."
"But it didn't."
A pause.
"...He became a real person."
Yunah smiled.
"I'd hope so."
"You know what I mean."
"I do."
She nudged your tray toward you.
"You should eat. You barely touched your food."
"...Thanks."
She shrugged.
"We're classmates." Then, after a second, "...I'd like to think we're becoming friends."
You blinked.
"...I'd like that too."
Your phone buzzed.
Woonhak: i found another cat
Another message immediately followed.
Woonhak: this one ignored me too
You opened the picture. A tiny orange cat sat with its back to him.
You smiled without thinking.
Yunah noticed. Of course she did.
"I didn't say anything."
You quickly locked your phone.
"...You're insufferable."
"I've been called worse."
She stood, balancing her tray.
"I'll let you keep pretending a little longer."
By the time she'd disappeared into the crowd... you had already saved the picture.
-----------------------------
The midterm results came back on a Friday. You learned about them before Woonhak did.
Not because you were looking. Because the hallway outside the faculty office suddenly erupted into cheers.
"No way!"
Jaehyun's voice carried all the way to the library.
Then another shout.
"Woonhak!"
Applause followed. Someone actually whistled.
You lowered your eyes back to your notes. You were absolutely not curious. Not even a little.
"...Y/N!"
You sighed.
Of course.
The library doors flew open with considerably more enthusiasm than libraries generally appreciated.
Woonhak hurried inside, slightly out of breath, hair windswept from running across campus, one crumpled result sheet clutched proudly in his hand.
"I found you."
Your heart immediately forgot how to function properly at the sight of him.
"...Congratulations."
He blinked.
"I didn't even tell you yet."
"You came in waving the paper."
"...Right." He laughed sheepishly before dropping into the chair across from you.
"Look." He slid the paper across the table.
Mathematics. 78.
Chemistry. 81.
Every subject had improved.
You looked back up at him, trying your hardest to not show it in your face too much that you were genuinely happy for him.
"You passed."
"I passed."
He pointed excitedly at the page.
"I actually passed."
"I can see that."
"I know, but..." He laughed again, excitement outrunning his vocabulary. "I've never improved this much before."
Without thinking... you smiled. He felt accomplished from that alone.
"You worked hard."
He immediately shook his head.
"We worked hard."
Your smile faltered.
"Woonhak..."
"I'm serious."
His voice softened.
"You complained every week."
"I did." He laughed. "But I kept coming."
"You did."
"Because you kept believing I could do it."
Silence settled between you. You found yourself quietly straightening the edge of his paper.
"I only explained the material."
"You did more than that."
Your fingers stopped.
"You never made me feel stupid."
You looked up.
His smile wasn't bright anymore. It was small. Honest.
"I think..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...that's what helped the most."
Something tightened quietly inside your chest.
"...You still did the work."
"I know, but..."
His smile returned as he carefully folded the paper.
"I wanted you to see it first."
The sentence slipped out naturally. Neither of you reacted immediately.
Then...
"Oh."
His ears slowly turned pink.
"I mean..." He scratched his neck awkwardly.
You rescued him before he could make it worse.
"...Congratulations, Woonhak." You smiled. "I'm proud of you."
Silence.
His eyes widened ever so slightly.
"...Thank you."
You looked down before your own face betrayed you.
"We should keep studying. Finals are next."
"...Yeah." He smiled to himself. "We should."
-----------------------------
Later that afternoon, Jaehyun found Woonhak alone in their studio. His folded report card rested beside his laptop.
Music drifted softly from the speakers before fading away.
Jaehyun nodded, satisfied.
"...It's better."
Woonhak looked up.
"You think so?"
"I do." He tapped the keyboard. "You fixed the second verse."
"I finally figured it out."
"So..."
Jaehyun folded his arms.
"Did you let Y/N hear it?"
Woonhak blinked.
"...Yeah."
"And?"
"They said the melody deserved better lyrics."
Jaehyun smiled.
"So you rewrote the whole thing."
"...I guess I did."
"You didn't even argue."
"I trusted them."
The words left his mouth before he noticed. Jaehyun only hummed.
"Interesting."
Silence.
"Woonhak."
"Hm?"
"Last week you asked me whether your hoodie looked better zipped or unzipped."
"I remember."
"The next day... you asked Y/N."
"...Did I?"
"You did."
"I was just curious."
"The week before that you asked if your hair looked weird after practice. I told you it looked fine."
"..."
"You still asked Y/N."
Woonhak frowned. "...I don't remember that."
"I know." Jaehyun smiled knowingly. "That's the point."
He continued counting on his fingers.
"You changed milk tea brands because they said the last one was too sweet. You started carrying two umbrellas. You somehow know exactly which highlighter they'll reach for."
"..."
"You ask me for advice first. Then you ask Y/N."
A pause.
"And you always seem happier when Y/N agrees."
Woonhak stared.
"...Really?"
Jaehyun nodded.
"When grades came out today..." He lifted the folded result sheet. "Who did you want to tell first?"
"...Y/N."
The answer came immediately. No hesitation. No thinking.
Jaehyun smiled.
"You ran straight past me."
"I did?"
"You didn't even notice."
Woonhak covered his face.
"...Hyung."
"I thought I'd at least get a hello."
"I got excited."
"I know." Jaehyun's smile softened. "But not excited enough to tell me first."
Silence filled the room.
Jaehyun glanced toward the notebook beside the laptop.
"You know... I've listened to every version of this song."
Woonhak looked at it too.
"The first draft was good too, but this one feels more honest."
"...What changed?"
"I think..." Jaehyun smiled. "You finally figured out who you were writing it for."
The room became very quiet.
"You rewrote the lyrics because Y/N suggested it. You wanted them to hear your grades first. You save them a seat every morning. You text them pictures of every stray cat on campus."
A tiny laugh escaped Woonhak.
"...Not every cat."
"Almost every cat."
Another pause.
"You've talked about Y/N every day this week."
Woonhak blinked.
"...Have I?"
"You told me they smile differently when they're concentrating. You said they push their sleeves up before explaining difficult problems. You somehow know which drink they'll order."
"..."
"You notice everything."
The words settled gently into the silence.
Woonhak thought back.
To every Wednesday afternoon. Every shared drink. Every tiny smile Y/N tried so hard to hide.
The way they'd quietly laugh before pretending they hadn't. The way they analyzed his unfinished song more carefully than anyone else ever had.
He remembered deleting almost an entire verse after that conversation. Writing until sunrise.
Because... he wanted them to hear the finished version.
"...Hyung."
Jaehyun waited.
A slow smile spread across Woonhak's face. Almost disbelieving.
"...I think I really like Y/N."
Jaehyun smiled.
"I know."
"You knew?"
"I suspected."
"...Since when?"
"Since you started asking for my opinion just so you could compare it with theirs."
Woonhak dropped his forehead onto the desk.
"...That's kind of embarrassing."
"It is."
"I seriously didn't know."
"I believe you."
Another laugh escaped him. Quieter this time.
He realized something. He hadn't fallen in love that afternoon.
Not when Y/N agreed to tutor him. Not when they listened to his unfinished song. Not even when they told him they were proud of him.
He'd simply been collecting moments.
One smile. One conversation. One shared drink. One saved seat. One tiny observation after another.
Without realizing they had already become the favorite parts of his day.
Now that he finally understood what they meant... everything made perfect sense.
-----------------------------
The next study session came. Then the next. Then another.
Somehow, the weeks continued as though nothing had changed.
The library remained quiet in the afternoons. The same table by the windows was almost always empty by the time the two of you arrived. Woonhak still showed up carrying two drinks, and you still pretended not to notice that he no longer had to ask which one you liked. You still arranged your notes into neat little stacks while he unpacked his bag with the same cheerful lack of organization that made you quietly straighten his papers whenever he wasn't looking.
Everything looked exactly the same.
Only now, every familiar habit seemed to carry a meaning neither of you quite knew how to acknowledge.
The first study session after midterms passed surprisingly smoothly. Almost suspiciously so.
The two of you settled into your usual routine, speaking mostly about reaction rates and probability questions, both pretending that nothing had shifted.
It was almost convincing.
Almost.
Halfway through the session, Woonhak leaned over to compare his answer with yours.
His shoulder brushed yours. Barely.
The two of you froze at the sudden contact.
"...Sorry."
The apology left your mouths at exactly the same time.
You looked at each other for a brief second before he laughed first.
You followed a heartbeat later, quieter than him, immediately lowering your gaze as warmth climbed into your face.
Neither of you mentioned it again.
The second study session was worse. Or perhaps "worse" wasn't the right word.
More dangerous.
Woonhak slid into the chair across from you, setting your usual drink beside your notebook before pulling his own bag onto the table.
"...Sorry I'm late."
You glanced at the clock.
"You're thirty-seven seconds late."
He blinked.
"...You counted?"
"No."
A beat passed.
"...Probably."
A grin spread across his face as he laughed, shaking his head while pulling out his notebook. You uncapped your highlighter and reached for the chemistry textbook.
"...Did you change your perfume?"
Silence.
The question slipped out with the same absentminded ease as asking whether he'd finished the homework.
Woonhak looked up at you. He wanted to make sure he wasn't hearing things.
"...What?"
You blinked.
"...Your perfume."
The words left your mouth before your brain had the chance to intervene.
Then, with impeccable timing... your brain caught up.
...
Oh.
Heat rushed into your face so quickly it almost hurt.
Why would you say that?
There had been perfectly reasonable explanations.
People bought new perfume. People changed shampoo. People smelled different after laundry day.
None of those explanations justified the fact that you'd apparently noticed the difference the moment he'd sat down.
You cleared your throat.
"...It smells different."
That somehow sounded even worse.
Across the table, Woonhak continued staring at you.
"...You noticed?"
"...It's different."
"...I only started wearing it yesterday."
"...Oh."
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost shy.
"...I actually asked Jaehyun which one I should get."
Another pause.
"...He said this one."
Your fingers tightened around your pen.
"...It suits you."
Silence.
You heard yourself say it. You heard the silence that followed.
Then your own words replayed themselves, one horrifying sentence at a time.
You noticed he'd changed his perfume. You admitted you noticed. Then you told him it suited him.
Somewhere, the version of yourself that had successfully maintained a carefully curated reputation for being composed and emotionally detached quietly packed its things and left.
Across the table, Woonhak had stopped moving entirely.
The tips of his ears slowly turned pink. Then his cheeks.
He looked at you as though you'd just confessed to something neither of you was supposed to know yet.
"...You noticed?"
His voice came out much softer this time. Almost careful.
Eye contact was no longer an available option.
"...A-anyway..."
Your voice betrayed you on the very first syllable. Wonderful.
"...Let's start with chemistry first."
You hurriedly flipped open the textbook before he could say another word, suddenly deciding reaction mechanisms deserved your undivided attention.
Across the table, Woonhak didn't answer immediately. You could feel him looking at you.
Then... a quiet, helpless laugh escaped him.
"...Okay."
There was a smile in his voice. One you refused to look at.
Not because you didn't want to. Because you were almost certain that if you did... you wouldn't survive it.
By the third study session, pretending became exhausting.
The conversations still came easily. You still quizzed him on chemistry formulas. He still groaned dramatically every time mathematics introduced another unfamiliar symbol. You still corrected him with quiet patience. He still found ways to make you laugh when you least expected it.
Nothing was different, you thought.
Everything was different.
Even the librarian seemed to notice. She glanced toward your table once, eyebrows lifting ever so slightly before returning to her cart of books.
Usually, the two of you filled every lull with conversation. Today, silence visited more often.
Not awkward. Just... full.
Like there were words resting quietly between the two of you, patiently waiting for someone to gather enough courage to speak them.
Neither of you did. Not yet. Instead, they surfaced in smaller ways.
Your fingers brushed when you both reached for the calculator. You instinctively pulled your hand back.
Woonhak cleared his throat.
"...Sorry."
"It was my fault."
"It wasn't."
"It was."
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You always apologize first."
"...Do I?"
"You do."
You lowered your eyes to your notebook.
"I didn't realize."
"I know."
His voice softened.
"I've been noticing a lot of things lately."
Your heart stumbled. You kept your eyes fixed stubbornly on the page.
"...Like what?"
"Hm?"
"You said you've been noticing things."
"...Right."
He scratched the back of his neck.
You waited.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
"...Nothing."
You nodded once.
"...Okay."
It wasn't okay. You both knew it wasn't.
The unfinished answer lingered quietly between the pages of your notebooks for the rest of the afternoon.
-----------------------------
The following Wednesday arrived with rain tapping gently against the library windows.
Most students had gone home early. The library felt unusually empty.
You were already seated when Woonhak arrived. He folded his umbrella beside the door before walking over.
"I brought two."
He smiled sheepishly, lifting another umbrella from his bag.
"...Just in case."
You stared at him.
"You remembered the forecast."
"I checked."
"...Seven weather apps?"
His eyes widened.
"...How did you know that?"
You looked down almost immediately.
"...Lucky guess."
He laughed.
"You've been spending too much time with me."
The words settled warmly somewhere beneath your ribs.
"...Probably."
The answer escaped before you could stop it.
His smile faltered. Not because he'd disliked hearing it. Quite the opposite. Neither of you said anything after that.
The study session continued quietly. The questions became easier. Or perhaps neither of you was paying enough attention for them to feel difficult.
More than once, your hands reached for the same pen. More than once, one of you began speaking just as the other did. More than once, your eyes met just long enough for one of you to look away first.
The air felt impossibly light and impossibly heavy at the same time. As though every unfinished sentence had decided to remain in the room with you.
Outside, the rain continued steadily. Inside, the clock ticked toward closing time.
You circled the final answer.
"...Correct."
"We're done."
"We're done."
Neither of you moved.
You stacked your notes. He zipped his pencil case.
The table slowly emptied. Still... neither of you stood.
The silence no longer felt uncertain. It felt inevitable.
Eventually, you looked up. Woonhak was already looking at you.
For the first time since you'd met him... he looked nervous. Not the kind of nervousness before a test. Not the kind before performing. The kind that belonged to someone standing at the edge of something they couldn't take back.
"...Y/N."
Your name was quieter than usual.
"Hm?"
He looked down at his hands. His fingers tightened around the strap of his backpack before slowly relaxing again.
A small laugh escaped him.
"...Can I tell you something?"
Your heartbeat became suddenly, inconveniently noticeable. You didn't know what was coming, but seeing him get nervous like this was doing things to your own nervous system.
"...You're always telling me things."
The words came out automatically. The moment they left your mouth, you wanted them back. Because this wasn't one of those moments.
Apparently, he knew that too.
He smiled. Not brightly. Just enough to reassure you.
"...Yeah. I guess I am."
He drew in a slow breath.
"I've been trying really hard to study."
You frowned slightly.
"I know."
"No, I mean..." He laughed quietly at himself. "I really have. I keep telling myself I'm going to focus."
"You do."
"I try."
His smile turned helpless.
"But every time I look up..." His eyes finally found yours. "...I end up paying attention to you instead."
The room fell completely still.
"I thought maybe it'd go away after midterms. It didn't."
A quiet laugh.
"I thought maybe I was just happy because we'd been spending so much time together."
Another pause.
"But then..." His smile returned, softer this time. "You noticed I'd changed my perfume."
Your breath caught.
"I don't know why..." He laughed under his breath. "...but that made me ridiculously happy."
His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of his notebook.
"And after that, I started noticing everything too. The way you tap your highlighter before you uncap it. The way you push your sleeves up whenever you're about to explain something difficult. The tiny smile you make when I get an answer right before you remember you're supposed to be serious."
He shook his head gently, smiling to himself.
"I realized I look forward to that smile more than getting the answer right."
His gaze lifted to yours once more. Open. Honest. Terrifyingly sincere.
"I think..." A small, nervous laugh escaped him. "...No, I know."
He smiled.
"I like you."
Simple. Certain.
"I don't mean as my tutor. Or just my classmate."
His smile softened.
"I like talking to you. I like hearing what you think. I like showing you things."
His eyes continue to hold yours.
"I think my days became my favorite when you started being part of them."
He exhaled slowly.
"I just... I didn't want finals to come and pretend none of this ever happened."
The room was very quiet.
Outside, rain continued to patter softly against the library windows, the sound settling into the silence neither of you seemed willing to disturb.
Your heartbeat was loud enough to drown out everything else.
You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. You closed it again.
Your brain, so dependable in every other situation, had apparently chosen this exact moment to resign.
You could explain integration by parts to thirty students without looking at your notes. You had survived oral examinations. You had argued with teachers.
You had once corrected an entire textbook in the margins because the publisher had made a mistake.
And yet... one honest confession from Kim Woonhak had reduced your vocabulary to absolutely nothing.
He waited. He didn't rush you. He simply sat there, looking at you with the same patient warmth that had somehow become familiar over the past few months.
Like he genuinely believed that whatever answer you gave would be worth waiting for. That somehow made it harder.
"...I've..."
You stopped for a moment. Then you let out a quiet breath, dropping your gaze to the table between you.
"...I've been thinking about your smile since October."
Silence.
"...What?"
You immediately wished you could take the sentence back.
Not because it wasn't true. Because it was. Painfully true.
"You have this smile..." You gestured vaguely toward him, immediately regretting that decision too. "...where your eyes disappear."
"...Disappear?"
"They just..." You sighed quietly. "...They vanish whenever you laugh."
He stared.
"I noticed it during macroeconomics. You were laughing with Taesan."
You still couldn't look directly at him. Your fingers tightened around one another beneath the table.
"I was supposed to be reading."
Your shoulders lifted in an embarrassed little shrug.
"...I wasn't."
A helpless laugh slipped from your lips.
"I looked up. And then..." You paused. Then you smiled to yourself. "...I kept looking up."
Silence settled gently between you.
"I spent months telling myself I was only observing."
You laughed again, quieter this time.
"It sounded much smarter than admitting I had a crush on you."
His grin appeared almost immediately.
"It didn't work."
"...No." You shook your head. "Not even a little."
You finally looked at him properly.
"I noticed everything. The way teachers always stop to talk to you. The way you thank the cafeteria staff. The way you always wave to the security guard at the east gate before class."
Woonhak frowned.
"...I do?"
"You do."
His laugh escaped before he could stop it. Bright. Warm. Entirely familiar.
It made your own smile appear before you even realized it had.
You looked back at him. This time, you didn't look away.
"I think..." You smiled. "No, I know."
Now it was your turn to tell him what you felt.
"I like you too."
His smile lingered, softer now. It still made your heart forget how to behave.
Slowly, almost absentmindedly, his thumb gently brushed against your knuckles. The touch was featherlight.
You didn't even notice that he had already placed his hands on top of yours.
"...Can I kiss you?"
The question settled gently between the two of you.
Not rushed. Not uncertain. Simply offered. Every coherent thought disappeared.
You knew the answer. You had known it for much longer than you had ever been willing to admit.
Unfortunately, knowing the answer and being capable of saying it turned out to be two completely different things.
"I..."
Your brain had apparently resigned for the second time that evening.
Heat climbed steadily into your face as you searched for words that stubbornly refused to exist.
Across the table, Woonhak simply watched you. He wasn't impatient. He wasn't expecting an immediate answer.
If anything, the small smile on his face became gentler.
"...It's okay."
His voice was so calm it almost made your chest ache.
You finally looked up.
He hadn't moved any closer. Instead, his fingers had loosened ever so slightly around yours, the tiny movement carrying a reassurance words couldn't quite capture.
You could still pull away. You could still say no. Nothing would happen unless you wanted it to.
"We don't have to."
Another quiet smile.
"I just wanted you to know..." A tiny laugh escaped him. "...that I'd really like to."
Something inside you gave way.
Even now, after confessing everything, he was still making sure the decision belonged entirely to you.
Never in a million years had you imagined this. Not while secretly watching him laugh from three rows away. Not during every Wednesday afternoon spent pretending your heart wasn't becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Not through shared milk teas, unfinished songs, stray cat pictures, or chemistry worksheets covered in his dramatic complaints.
You had imagined getting over Kim Woonhak. You had also imagined quietly carrying your feelings until graduation.
You had never imagined this. Never imagined that the same boy whose smile had interrupted a macroeconomics chapter months ago would one day confess first. Ask if he could kiss you. Or become the first person to hold your hand like it already belonged there.
The realization washed over you all at once.
This wasn't another observation. This wasn't another daydream. This was very real.
"No... I..."
The word escaped before your thoughts could catch it.
Woonhak blinked. You immediately shook your head.
"I'm trying."
"I know."
He smiled.
There wasn't the slightest trace of disappointment in his voice. Only patience.
"Take your time."
That was somehow the final straw. Because he wasn't trying to rescue you from the silence. He was simply sharing it with you.
Slowly, almost shyly...
Your hand shifted beneath his.
The movement was so tentative that you barely realized what you were doing until your fingers found his properly for the first time.
Not by accident. Not because the two of you had reached for the same calculator. Not because your shoulders had brushed over shared notes.
Deliberately. Warm against warm. Your fingers settled naturally between his.
Comfortable. Like they'd somehow skipped the awkward part and already knew where they belonged.
You couldn't help smiling. Small. Embarrassed. Almost disbelieving.
Then, gathering every ounce of courage you still possessed, you looked back at him.
And nodded.
Just once.
It was barely noticeable. It didn't need to be.
Woonhak searched your face carefully, as though he wanted to be absolutely certain he hadn't imagined it.
"...Is that..." His voice had dropped to little more than a whisper. "...your answer?"
Speaking still felt impossibly difficult. So you nodded again. A little more confidently this time.
For a heartbeat, he simply stared at you.
Then the quietest smile you'd ever seen spread across his face. Not triumphant. Not relieved.
Wondering. As though part of him still couldn't quite believe that this was really happening.
"...Okay."
He breathed the word more than he spoke it.
Only then did his fingers gently curl around yours. Not tightly. Never possessively. Just enough to hold your hand properly.
His thumb traced one slow stroke across the back of your hand before his free hand lifted toward your face.
He paused. He waited one last time.
His fingertips brushed a loose strand of hair away from your cheek, tucking it carefully behind your ear.
You answered without words.
Almost unconsciously, you leaned into the warmth of his hand.
His breath caught. The smile that followed was impossibly small.
Then, with all the care he'd shown you from the very beginning... he closed the remaining distance.
The kiss was so gentle that, for the briefest moment, it almost felt like another question.
You answered the only way you knew how. By kissing him back.
Tentatively at first. Then a little more surely. Just like the nod you'd given him moments earlier.
The world outside seemed to disappear.
There was only the quiet rhythm of rain against the library windows, the faint scent of paper and coffee, and the warmth of his hand still resting carefully in yours.
When the two of you finally pulled apart, neither of you spoke.
You simply looked at one another. Trying, and failing, to pretend your hearts weren't racing quite as loudly as they were.
Then.... there it was again.
His eyes disappeared first. Then the corners of his mouth lifted until his entire face seemed to smile all at once.
The very same smile that had interrupted a macroeconomics chapter six months ago. The one that had quietly followed you through every Wednesday afternoon, every shared milk tea, every unfinished song.
His snowman smile.
Without thinking, you smiled back. Really smiled.
Not the polite little curve of your lips you offered classmates. Not the restrained smile that disappeared almost as quickly as it arrived.
This one stayed.
Woonhak's expression brightened even more. He looked at you with such uncomplicated fondness that you felt your face grow warm all over again.
Outside, the rain had almost stopped. The library lights flickered softly, reminding the few remaining students that it was nearly closing time.
Neither of you moved.
For just a little while longer, the world was no bigger than a quiet table by the window, two forgotten milk teas, and two hands that no longer had any reason to let go.
There is a particular kind of miracle in realizing that the person you've quietly loved from afar has been quietly finding their way toward you, too.
ask (on @ilysungho): woonhak is def a man who yearns! if he can write the most cliche, teeth-rotting, and heart-quenching love songs without even experiencing it, what more if he’s ACTUALLY in love, right?! that man would def be obsessed with his girl. being in love with him is a refreshing encounter — would be so romcom-coded too! contains: woonhak x gn!reader, lovesick woonhak has a crush on you, asking out, super adorable fluff, all of bnd present, barista jaehyun, serenade lyrics, lmk if i missed anything!
when woonhak gets a crush... he makes sure to let it be known. everyone around him knows how much he likes you, constantly hearing every single overanalyzed interaction he's had with you since the early days of when he formed the crush. he updates his friends right away when something new happens, from a simple glance, to your lips forming a sweet little smile at his cheesy words. so he devised a plan.
and the plan was pretty simple: make a poster, sing a song, and ask you out.
he'd been working on it for weeks, finding ways to spend more time with you in the time. for starters, he'd gotten your cafe order memorized from seeing you at jaehyun’s workplace while he visits, the barista helping him with learning how to make it (though he messed up a few too many times—jaehyun just told him to leave it to him by the 5th try, to simply focus on doing what he's better at (aka music making)). he also knows what flowers you like now, sungho stepping up to help him with making a bouquet for the special day. also, his attempts at "coincidentally" bumping into you at the dog park as he watched you play with your little pomeranian are too obviously planned as he awkwardly walked riwoo's puppy every time, always unsure about how to take care of the little creatures.
both taesan and leehan help him too, doing so by working on the most important parts of executing the lovesick boy's plan. all 3 of them work together as woonhak's vision of what should be a song worthy of you comes to life through several days of songwriting and producing. and the poster? he wasn't sure just how much you'd like it, but he loves what his taesan hyung made for the day!
the day finally comes with the boy standing outside your house, the sun glaring into your window as you hear a faint tune to woonhak's voice playing outside. you blink through the glass as you focus your eyes on him, sunglasses adorning his face as he held up a poster reading ‘BE MINE?’ with... questionable strokes. but the bouquet that was on top of the radio player looked too beautiful, wrapped in a white? light blue? wrapping paper, a huge bright blue ribbon keeping the flowers together.
you could almost laugh at woonhak's commitment to preparation, simply in awe of how he always managed to show his charming boyish side that initially made you also fall for him. opening the window, you heard the words of the song more clearly: mm mm my playlist now, are you free on friday?
"YES!" you yell back, answering both the questions at once, though he just assumed it was in response to what he held, the main question he had.
"REALLY?" he yelled back, a bit shocked but also glad that he wasn't wrong about the signals you sent to him through the several hangouts before this very day. you nod as you keep watch, your head falling back in laughter as he ran around the road, screaming in joy as he barely held onto the poster paper.
and well, the neighbors... they may complain about his lack of awareness of his surroundings, but who cares about that when he finally got you, right?
𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀woonhak, who has always been good at keeping his feelings to himself, can’t hold it in anymore𑁋especially after seeing you so happy with someone that is not him, and it hurts so much that his heart is about burst.
ᅠ 김운학 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 3k ⠀ genre fluff angst if you squint childhood friends to lovers ⠀ contains mentions of food skinship nmixx kyujin ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net @onedoornet
ᅠ ᅠ BEST ENJOYED WITH .. mean it by lauv and lany, die for you by the weeknd, paper rings by taylor swift, about you by the 1975.
ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ hi this is a procrastination fic from me because i’m supposed to be finishing a jay fic.. LOLZ pls enjoy whatever this is...!!!
ᅠ ＞︿ please leave feedbacks & reblog
WOONHAK has always thought that you’re beautiful. In both the you’re-my-friend-of-course-you’re-pretty way and the I-think-I’m-in-love-with-my-own-best-friend way, he’s always known that you’re the prettiest person he’s ever had and will lay his eyes on. Though, he’ll never admit this in front of you in the usual blunt and straightforward way he’d compliment you—your beauty is the one thing he’s too afraid to talk about. Not that he doesn’t find you pretty; it’s the fact that he’s too scared he’ll cross the line.
Woonhak usually has no problem with telling you how gorgeous you are everyday—simply because of the fact he’s never felt the need to urgently say so.
Besides, he’s only gotten the slimmest chance to say it out loud—though, he knows that his answers to your daily questions lack the genuinity of his feelings.
“Woonhak, does this hair clip look pretty on me?”
“Yeah, it does. I like–”
“Thank you, Woon!”
“Woon, do I look okay today?”
“Yes, you always do–”
“Thanks, Woonhak!”
“Woonhak, quick, does this skirt look good on me?”
“Girl, of course–”
“Thank you, Woon!”
He’s seen you bare faced—the real essence of your beauty—almost every single day, to the point that he can’t find the words to describe it anymore. And the fact that he sits in the back row and often sleeps in English class doesn’t help him find the words too.
However, today is the first time Woonhak has ever laid eyes upon you with makeup on. Full glam.
And he doesn’t know how to react.
You’re beautiful, Woonhak knows that.
Though, today, donning makeup that perfectly suits your features, it highlights your looks into a level of elegance he’s never noticed about you before.
You’re actually so so attractive.
Woonhak watches, standing perfectly still, as you run up to him, a mixture of excitement and nervousness painted across your face.
“Woon!” you say, precisely stopping right in front of him. You give him a wide smile, unknowingly causing your best friend’s heart to race like crazy.
“Yeah?” he answers, already breathless.
You grin. “Do I look okay? I’ve got theatre auditions in the third period so I did my makeup with Kyujin.”
“I…” Woonhak feels tingles through his skin, suddenly feeling weak in his knees. “Um…”
“C’mon! Don’t be afraid,” you urge, still smiling, innocently unaware of the state of your childhood best friend. Woonhak is beginning to see hearts floating around you, and you’re still flashing him an excited, rather adorable smile that makes him wanna jump across the line.
“You look beautiful,” he finally manages to say, his voice breathy, “as always.”
BEING the person you’ve known as your best friend ever since you could walk, Woonhak has seen you through all the stages of your life—the messy stage of elementary school, the ugly emo haircuts in middle school, and now, through the life changing phase of high school—where some of the boys you found cute in elementary school have all turned handsome.
Including Woonhak.
You’ve grown conscious of how he’s now so obviously taller than you, how he gets you wide-eyed and sometimes even flustered when he’s leaning in to listen to your whispers, how his cheerful smile makes you feel like life is worth living. You’ve grown to accept that your childhood best friend, Woonhak, has turned out to be ridiculously handsome and you didn’t even realise when that happened.
However, you’re aware of the fact that the little feelings you have in your heart for Woonhak are not worth the risk of losing your life-long friendship with him.
“How was the audition?” Woonhak asks, as soon as you step to him, walking out of the theatre. His eyes are trained onto you, looking extremely curious.
You flash him a grin. “I think it went… okay. I’m not sure I’ll get the lead role, but if I don’t, hopefully I’ll get a supporting role or something.”
“Hey,” Woonhak exclaims, nudging you. His gaze hardens with enthusiasm. “You will get the lead role! I know it!”
You laugh, shaking your head as you nudge him back. “You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.”
“No,” Woonhak says firmly, almost too quickly. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”
Your eyes meet for a second longer than they should, and something unspoken begins to settle between you. It’s not awkward, exactly—but it’s heavy. Warm. Unfamiliar. You look away first, heart fluttering in a way you wish it wouldn’t.
You clear your throat, forcing a confident expression back onto your face. “Well… if I do get the part, you have to come watch me, okay?”
Woonhak’s lips twitch into a smile. “Only if you promise not to cry on stage during the curtain call.”
“I make zero promises,” you shoot back, grinning.
Woonhak laughs, and it’s the kind that makes your chest feel full and your stomach flip. Though, you maintain your composure, still looking at him with a normal expression. He looks at you again, softer this time, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Hey, you’re really amazing, you know?”
There’s a moment of silence.
You blink.
“What?” you laugh it off sheepishly.
You eye him, “okay, Mr. Sentimental. What’s gotten into you today?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Woonhak replies, his words calm and serious. He shrugs, and the soft smile doesn’t fade. “Just… I meant it.”
“Oh.”
You look at him, blinking rapidly. At a loss for words, you bump Woonhak’s shoulder lightly with yours.
“Thank you, Woonhak.”
And although those words are simple and easy for you to say, you both feel a certain weight behind them.
The lunch bell then rings, shattering whatever tension that started to settle around you and Woonhak. You both jump, and Woonhak quickly slings his backpack over his shoulder.
“Okay, c’mon,” Woonhak says. He leans in, brushing a stray eyelash on your cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “We’re gonna be late.”
You don’t move for a second, brain short-circuiting. Did he… always do that? Has he ever done that?
A second later, you break out of your trance and follow him anyway, trying not to overthink the weird feelings swirling in your chest.
AT lunch, when you approach the usual table, Kyujin is already there, scrolling through her phone. She looks up as you take a seat, then grins. “So,” she says, her eyes glinting with mischief, “what did Woonhak say about your makeup?”
You notice her purposefully pressing her voice at his name.
“Him?” you sigh, glancing at Woonhak, who’s sitting across from you with a spoon of bibimbap halfway to his mouth. Then, nonchalantly, you say, “he said I look beautiful.”
Woonhak freezes mid-bite, and coughs as he looks up. “I did?”
Kyujin whistles. “Beautiful, huh? That’s a new one.”
“Yeah,” you say, poking at your lunch to avoid looking at either of them. “Guess he’s learning how to compliment properly.”
Woonhak clears his throat. “Well, you did look—uh, I mean, you do look—um—”
Kyujin raises her eyebrows, grinning.
You finally glance up, shoving food into your mouth, and Woonhak’s face is so red. You want to tease him, but the butterflies in your stomach refuse.
Later, when you and Woonhak are walking home, like always, it’s quiet for the first time in a while. The nice, comforting kind of quiet.
Woonhak walks close to you. So close, your arms keep brushing against each other.
“You know, I meant it,” he says suddenly. “What I said earlier.”
You blink up at him, “about what?”
Woonhak rubs the back of his neck before awkwardly putting his hand back to the side. “About…” he looks away, his ears now pink, “you being beautiful.”
The air shifts again. Something settles between the two of you, some kind of heavy weight that you can’t quite name. You should say something. You know you should. But you don’t. You’re too scared.
So instead, you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. “You’re not too bad yourself, Woon.”
Woonhak laughs, and the moment passes as he begins to talk about something else. But you can’t take your eyes off him, and the feeling lingers.
THE next few days, Woonhak decides to crash your place to study for the midterms that are coming next week. He’s sitting on your bedroom floor, back against the bed frame, surrounded by open textbooks and highlighters. You, on the other hand, lay on your stomach on the bed, pencil between your teeth, hair a little messy from how many times you've pushed it back.
“You’re not even looking at the page,” he says, flicking the page of your textbook. “So much for teasing me just now.”
You roll your eyes. “I am!”
“Really?” Woonhak raises his eyebrow.
“I am looking,” you mumble around the pencil. “I’m just… absorbing it through osmosis.”
Woonhak rolls his eyes, but he laughs. “You’re such a mess.”
You stick your tongue out at him, but somehow, your heart feels warm. His words feel… weirdly affectionate. “Don’t care.”
Woonhak shakes his head as he grimaces. “Shut up, get back to studying.”
“Eh,” you say in a tone that’s mocking him, “whatever.”
Woonhak doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leans back, watching you with a soft look in his eyes. When you glance at him, feeling his stare on you, he quickly looks away.
“I don’t know how you make even studying look cute,” he mutters under his breath.
You feel your breath catch, but you pretend you didn’t hear him. You’re not sure what you’d say if you did.
You turn your focus back to your work, deciding that it’s better to plague your head with a headache due to physics rather than whatever is going on between you and Woonhak.
A week later, you’re at the school library after school hours. You’re with Woonhak, of course. Kyujin was with you as well, but she had left almost an hour ago—she was too drowsy to continue studying in the silent library with dim lighting.
You and Woonhak are both hunched over the same textbook, heads almost touching, trying to find answers to a question that you both can’t find the answers for.
Woonhak turns a page and your hands brush. Neither of you moves away.
“Woonhak,” you say, voice raspy. He looks up upon hearing your name escape your lips, and your noses are mere inches away.
“Do you ever think about college?” you ask quietly, like the silence of the library will swallow it. “We’ll be seniors next year.”
Woonhak hums. “Sometimes. Mostly about if we’ll end up at the same one.”
Your heart skips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, his lips forming a soft, small smile. “Feels weird to imagine not seeing you every day.”
You don’t know what to say to that, either. So you just nod and keep reading, even though none of the words make sense anymore.
YOUR phone buzzes at 2:34 a.m.
Tofu Woonhak calling...
You had been studying late at night, even after spending an entire day studying at the library. You don’t expect Woonhak to still be awake at this time. You blink, confused, then answer. “Woonhak?”
“You’re still awake,” he says, voice low and gentle. Sleepy. “I knew it.”
You smile tiredly, curling up in your desk chair. “Just studying. Midterms are pure evil, you know?”
“Even on the smartest girl ever?”
You sigh. “Me? I wish…”
“You sound exhausted.”
He knew, of course. Just from hearing how your response is.
“I am exhausted.”
There’s a pause, then, “I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you are taking breaks.”
Your heart does that annoying fluttery thing again. You swallow before answering. “You’re too nice to me.”
“You’re my best friend,” he says softly, and the way he says it makes you ache. You shift uncomfortably in your chair.
“…Woonhak?”
“Yeah?” His voice is low it gives you tingles.
“You should sleep.”
“Not until you promise to take a break in the next ten minutes.”
You laugh, voice soft. “Fine. Ten minutes.”
He doesn’t hang up right away. Neither do you.
THE first Monday after midterms, you’re standing outside the theatre classroom, feeling giddy after being announced that you’re going to be playing as the female lead in the upcoming play.
You’re chatting and laughing with your guy classmate, who’s from your cast—the male lead—tall, charming, annoyingly good-looking. He hands you something—maybe a small snack or a drink—and you accept it with a grateful smile.
Woonhak sees all of it from down the hall.
He wasn’t looking for you, but he always seems to find you anyway.
His chest tightens in a way he doesn’t like. His feet feel heavy, like they don’t know whether to move toward you or walk the other way.
You look so… happy.
He hates how much it makes his stomach twist. But he can’t pull his eyes away.
When you finally spot him, you wave enthusiastically. “Woon!”
He instinctively waves back, but he’s forcing a smile. The guy beside you glances at him, then leans in to say something to you that makes you laugh again.
Woonhak has to look away.
For the first time, he wonders what it would feel like to lose you to someone else.
IT’S already dark outside when you exit the building, a bag slung over your shoulder, the last of your castmates waving goodbye. Theatre practice had finished late today, and you didn’t expect anyone to be waiting—most people left a while ago.
But there he is. Woonhak. Leaning against the brick wall beside the exit, hands shoved in his pockets, head tilted up at the sky like he’s been lost in thought.
You blink in surprise. You run up to him. “Woon? What are you still doing here?”
Woonhak startles a bit, knocking himself out of his trance and straightening up. “Hey. I… was just waiting.”
“For me?” You laugh lightly. You shove him using your elbow. “You could’ve just gone home, you know.”
“I know,” he says, a little too quickly, his voice strained. He does not spare you a glance. “I just—God, why do you keep acting like this is nothing?”
You freeze. Why is he suddenly mad? “…Like what’s nothing?”
Woonhak runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Like I’m just some guy who’s always going to wait around for you. Who’s always going to be there—watching you laugh with other people, watching some theatre guy flirt with you—smiling like it doesn’t kill me inside.”
Your breath catches. What is this about?
“Woonhak—”
“I can’t do it anymore,” Woonhak says, eyes blazing as he turns sharply to you. “I can’t keep pretending like I don’t care, like I’m fine just being your best friend, when every part of me—”
He cuts himself off, chest heaving.
There’s silence. Real, heavy, heart-stopping silence. The kind that feels like it’s stabbing you right in the chest.
You step closer, voice barely a whisper. You want to know. “Every part of you… what?”
Woonhak exhales shakily, eyes finally meeting yours. “Every part of me is in love with you.”
The words hang there between you, raw and unpolished. Heavy and honest.
Your heart pounds so loud it echoes in your ears. You don’t know what to say—not because you don’t feel the same, but because you do.
Too much.
And that’s terrifying.
You freeze.
The words hit you like a wave—I’m in love with you—and suddenly it’s all too loud. Your heartbeat, the crickets outside, the silence that stretches after.
You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You can’t feel your fingers, and your breath is stuck in your throat. There are too many thoughts, too many feelings, and not enough air.
So you do the only thing your panicked brain tells you to do.
You run.
You don’t even know where you’re going—you know just that you need to move. That staying in front of him, in that moment, might shatter something fragile inside you. It might even burst you.
“Wait—wait!” Woonhak calls, the sound of his footsteps following closely behind. “Y/N!”
You don’t stop.
You can’t.
You hear him catching up, the rhythm of his breath uneven. “Y/N, stop!”
You don’t listen to him. Not until you reach the empty courtyard behind the school, the soft glow of the streetlights washing everything in gold.
Then, finally, you find yourself coming to a stop.
Your back is to him. Shoulders heaving.
Woonhak catches up, breathless and frustrated. “Why did you run?”
You can’t face him yet. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“Then say anything,” he says, voice breaking. “Yell at me. Tell me I’m an idiot. Say you hate me—just don’t run away like that.”
You slowly turn to him.
Your voice is soft. “I didn’t run because I hated you, Woonhak.”
He takes a cautious step closer. His eyes tremble, his voice shaky. “Then why?”
Your hands tremble. You close your eyes, then, “because I love you, too, Woonhak.”
His breath catches. You slowly open your eyes, and you finally meet his eyes, and this time you don’t look away.
“I’ve loved you for so long it scared me,” you continue, voice shaking. “And I thought if I told you, I’d lose the one thing that’s always been certain in my life—you.”
Woonhak stares at you like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. And then—
He’s in front of you. Close. Closer than he’s ever been.
“Y/N, I… I was always yours,” he says quietly. “You couldn’t have lost me even if you tried.”
And with that, his hand finds yours—fingers lacing together like they’ve been waiting their whole lives to do it. He leans closer, and his lips find yours.
It’s a quick peck—nothing monumental, just a soft brush against your lips. But it’s enough.
Enough to pour his feelings onto your heart, telling you the things he needed you to know all these while.
There’s no grand gesture. No fireworks.
Just two best friends, standing in the soft glow of the night, finally saying the things they were too scared to say before.
yeah, woonhak has a stage to perform, but he also has a girlfriend to satisfy !
contains: making out wc: 488
because you were dating their energetic and clingy youngest, it wasn’t uncommon for you to accompany boynextdoor backstage.
you loved spending time with the six boys, their silly personalities and dynamics always entertaining you lots.
except this time, it was just you and woonhak, alone. he had a solo schedule for an award show, set to dance briefly with two other idols.
you were waiting for him in the green room when he left the changing room with his hair messy, chains dangling around his neck. you gawked at his appearance, wanting to personally thank his stylist.
“wow,” you chirp, looking him up and down.
“what? does my love like how i look?” woonhak says cockily, teasing you. he makes his way over to you, his hands instinctively feeling up your hips.
”you’re lucky you’re about to go up, because this,” you tug at his shirt, “would all be on the floor,” you joke, mischeviously smiling up at the boy.
woonhak raises his eyebrows at that, chuckling.
“y’know, we’ve still got 5 minutes.”
you both giggle, the thrill of getting frisky backstage filling your minds.
woonhak leans down, his lips meeting yours. you place your hands around his face as you reciprocate. the kiss gets messy fast, teeth clashing, tongues intertwined.
woonhak pins you to the nearest wall, one hand grabbing your hip, the other cupping your cheek. your face flushes as the kisses prolong, one half of your mind on your boyfriend, the other on how much trouble you’ll get in if someone walks in.
”woon—”
”shh,” woonhak protests, knowing your responsible mindset is kicking in.
his kisses travel to your cheek, the skin warm due to you blushing profusely.
“no one’s gonna catch us, love.” woonhak reassures you, his lips pecking down your jaw, towards your neck.
despite the excitement rushing through you, his words don’t convince you. your hands move to grab his face, halting his movements. he juts his lower lip out, not wanting to stop.
“did you forget you have a performance, like, right now?” you shake your head, giggling at where his priorities are.
”no… but you’re too tempting!” he argues.
before you can get another word out, a staff member calls out to woonhak.
“woonhak, you’re on!” she yells, ignoring the position she sees the two of you in.
woonhak lets out a loud, dramatic sigh as his hands leave your body. you can’t help but laugh at his ridiculous reaction.
”break a leg,” you whisper, poking fun at the now spiritless boy.
“yeah yeah, be ready for me after the stage,” woonhak replies, leaving one last kiss on your cheek. he hastily leaves the room, not wanting to be late.
you let out a soft sigh of your own as you watch him leave. the absence of his touch is quite apparent, and disappointing.
all you know is, his stylist sure is lucky if she gets those clothes back later.
⌗ a handwritten letter leads you back to your first love and the words you didn’t manage to say before ࿔*:･ﾟ
메시지: loosely based off their mama performance!! and merry christmas to those who celebrate ♡
it was a name you’d never forget; kim woonhak. he was your first love. kinda. you loved him, and that was undoubtedly true. but did you also happen to reject him when he had confessed his feelings for you? perhaps.
in your defence, he hadn’t just confessed – he confessed, gave you a bouquet, and kissed you. on the lips. it wasn’t to say that you didn’t like it, but pure shock. if you were given a second chance, another try of the same scenario, you wouldn’t waste a second to kiss him back and declare your undying love for him. for as long as you could form proper thoughts, you liked woonhak. you just kept it to yourself, knowing he wouldn’t feel the same. but of course, the one time you were given the opportunity to possibly date the guy of your dreams, you fumbled it.
what made it worse was that he lived just next door. if he fled across the country, existing in a completely different time zone, maybe you’d forget about the terrors of meeting his face again. however, with him being your literal neighbour, there was no way of avoiding him. you would spot his face in the dark hours of midnight while you threw away bags of trash, and the dull realization that he was the biggest loss you never won would sink deep into the pit of your stomach.
even though it’s been a whole year, you couldn’t get over it. you just wish the moment would repeat itself as if it were magic. because this time, you’d tell him the truth.
more under the cut!
the cold winter air slapped you like a slap to the face, freezing your feet that managed to slip out of your blanket. you quickly scrambled to slip on a hoodie as you noticed how the hairs on your arms sat straight on your skin, covering yourself in a thick layer of warmth.
as you walked downstairs, your mother handed you a thin envelope, decorated with a small smiley face in the corner. “woonhak came over earlier and wanted to give this to you. not sure what it’s about but he seemed nervous,” she said, eyeing the paper from where she was standing. “such a sweet boy, i wonder why he stopped coming over so often.” your mother sighed, unknowingly speaking directly to the reason behind it.
knowing the letter would likely break your heart, probably about how he’d lost feelings for you or something along those lines, you decided to go back up to your room, throwing yourself on your bed. you carefully tore into the letter, making sure to preserve the envelope just in case it was the last thing you’d get from woonhak. the letter was folded up four times, looking extremely small in the huge wrapping. you unraveled the now very creased paper, reading words that were obviously rewritten a couple times, proven by the eraser marks.
hey, do you remember me? it’s me, woonhak from next door!
last year, you rejected me… i cried all night ㅠㅠ
even my hyungs cried with me!!
but today, i’m bravely confessing again! you’ll listen, right?
come to the park @ 11:29pm
i hope i’ll see you there, y/n
-kwh
your heart couldn’t help but tighten at his words. of course you remember him, you don’t think you could even force yourself to forget him. after all, he’s the first love of your life, and hopefully your last, too.
just ten minutes before 11:29pm, you left your house, dressed in the same hoodie you had on in the morning. as you walked out of the front door, small crystals fell from above you, peppering the sleeve of your hoodie with white. the park looked beautiful. all the equipment had been littered with snow, except for a tall figure sitting on the swing, steadily swinging to and fro. it was woonhak.
once he noticed you, he got up, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “you came,” he said with a weak smile, as if he expected you to ignore his request. “i know i already ruined things last time, but i can’t help but think about you all the time, y/n.” he sighed, breath turning into steam in the cold air. “could you just… listen? you don’t need to answer me or anything. i just need you to be here.”
you nodded, standing just in front of woonhak. “y/n, i’m sorry about last year. i really didn’t mean to kiss you, it was just a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing, and…” woonhak looked down to his feet, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “i thought that you rejecting me would help me, y’know… get you out of my mind and stuff, but you’re still there.” his eyes finally gazed at you, his expression downhearted. “i know it’s selfish to tell you this again, but until now, i like you. i don’t think this feeling is gonna leave me soon, or ever for that matter. i don’t expect you to say you like me too, considering what i did, but i need to let it out before my feelings eat me whole.” he lets out a long breath as he finishes his confession.
the tension between you two is suffocating. woonhak opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but promptly puts his lips back together, unable to find the right words.
“woonhak,” his head darts up, looking at you with hopeful yet unanticipated, bracing himself for his second heartbreak. “ever since the day we started talking, i’ve had a crush on you.”
the words hit him like a brick to the head, waking him up like he had been splashed with water. “w-what? y/n, you-” he’s blinking faster as if it’ll help him figure out what to say, but his mouth runs dry.
“let me talk, woon.” you chuckle, sniffling at the chilly weather. “that night, when you confessed, i didn’t reject you, woonhak. i couldn’t get a word out because you kissed me, and when i tried to speak, you left my house and didn’t show up the next day.” you can slowly see the pieces fitting into the puzzle in woonhak’s mind just through his eyes. “i like you. a lot. so please, give me another chance?”
rather than telling you a yes or no, he took your face in both of his hands and pressed his lips to yours. it was like déjà vu. last year, you told yourself you’d never let the moment slip out of your grasp if it ever managed to come back, and today, you’d fulfill that.
he leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. but you don’t. when your lips meet, it’s soft – feeling warm despite the cold. you kiss him back properly this time, filling it with the desire you wish you had given this time last year. you can feel him smile against your lips, like he’s been waiting for this exact moment, because he probably has.
when you pull away, your breaths mingle in small clouds. “let me make it up to you for last year and let me treat you right, if it’s not too late. please?”
