so absolutely, completely done with sukuna's bullshit that you can barely see straight through the haze of cheap tequila and the brain freeze clawing at your skull from the way you're shoving spoonfuls of ice cream into your mouth like it's a fucking lifeline.
you slump against shoko's shoulder on her shitty dorm room floor, surrounded by empty bottles and the sticky residue of melted chocolate chip, and you just let it all pour out of you.
every petty grievance, every time he brushed you off for a video game or looked at some other girl a second too long, every time he made you feel small and stupid for wanting even a crumb of his attention.
you're crying, maybe. there's wetness on your cheeks, but it could just be the ice cream melting or the condensation from the bottle you're still clutching.
it doesn't matter.
what matters is the way shoko's fingers card through your hair, slow and soothing, her dark eyes soft and so, so patient.
"he's such an asshole," you slur, nuzzling deeper into the crook of her neck.
she smells like cigarettes and vanilla lotion, and it's the most grounding thing in the world right now. "i hate him. i fucking hate him so much, sho. why do i let him do this to me?"
she doesn't answer with words.
instead, she tilts your chin up, her thumb brushing away a tear, and then her lips are on yours.
it's familiar, this thing you two have. it's comfort and release and a way to say everything you can't put into words.
you melt into her instantly, a desperate little sound tearing from your throat as you part your lips for her and taste tequila and mint and the faint sweetness of your shared ice cream.
it makes your head spin even more, but in the best way. your hands come up to fist in the fabric of her crop top, holding her close, and you're already whining into her mouth.
you can feel the cold of the ice cream carton against your hip where it's tipped over, but you don't care. nothing matters except the way her tongue slides against yours, the way her fingers tighten in your hair, the way she pulls you closer until you're practically in her lap.
you're so drunk.
so fucking drunk that the room is starting to tilt and your thoughts are getting all fuzzy around the edges, but your body knows exactly what it needs.
you start rocking your hips, grinding your aching, desperate cunt against the firm muscle of her thigh. your jeans are too tight, the seam pressing right against your clit as you rut against her like an animal in heat, mouth still locked on hers, muffling your own pathetic little moans.
you can feel the damp spot growing at the crotch of your pants, can feel how slick and swollen you are just from kissing her, and it's pathetic and needy and you don't give a single fuck.
"shoko," you gasp, breaking the kiss to tilt your head back, baring your throat to her like you're offering it up. "shoko, please, i need—i need more. i need to feel good. make me feel good, please, i'm so—i'm so—"
"shh, i know, baby." her voice is a low, soothing hum against your ear, and you feel her hand slide down your back, over the curve of your ass. "i know you need to let go. i'm gonna take care of you, okay? you trust me, don't you?"
you nod frantically, tears still leaking from your eyes as you look up at her with all the pathetic, desperate devotion you can muster. "yes, yes, i trust you. i trust you so much, sho. please."
she smiles, that lazy, knowing smile that always makes your stomach flip, and then she's pulling out her phone. you can barely focus on what she's saying, just catch fragments of her voice—
"hey, get your asses over here,"
"she's a mess,"
"no, a good mess, just bring yourselves"
—and then she tosses the phone aside and pulls you back into another kiss that robs you of every coherent thought.
they must not live far, or maybe you're just that lost in the haze of alcohol and shoko's touch, because it feels like only minutes later that the door to her dorm swings open.
you're so far gone that you barely register the two tall figures that step inside, too busy licking into shoko's mouth and grinding against her thigh like a bitch in heat. it isn't until you hear a low, rough laugh that you even realize anyone else is there.
"fuck, shoko. you didn't say she was already this far gone."
that's geto. you know his voice, deep and smoky from too many cigarettes.
you pull your mouth away from shoko's with a wet, obscene sound, blinking up at him and the flash of white hair beside him.
gojo's grinning like he just found the best toy at the party, his sunglasses shoved back into his hair, ice-blue eyes sweeping over your disheveled state with obvious interest.
geto is already lighting a cigarette, the flare of the lighter illuminating the sharp angles of his face, and he looks at you the way he looks at everything—like he's already figured out exactly how he's going to take you apart.
"aw, suku's girl is all sad," gojo coos, stepping closer and crouching down to your level. his voice is a mocking singsong, but his eyes are hungry. "what's wrong, sweetheart? did he make you cry? that's no fun."
you want to tell him to fuck off, but your brain is soup and shoko's hand has slid around to palm your breast through your shirt, and all that comes out of your mouth is a garbled little whimper.
you feel hot and dizzy and so fucking empty, like there's a void inside you that needs to be filled with something, anything.
your hips keep moving against shoko's thigh, chasing friction that's not nearly enough.
"look at her," geto says, taking a long drag of his cigarette as he watches you. his voice is flat, but there's a heat underneath it that makes your thighs clench. "she's so drunk she can barely think. perfect."
shoko clicks her tongue, still stroking your hair, still smiling that little smile. "i told you. she needs to be taken care of. and i'm nice enough to let you boys in on the fun, so don't make me regret it."
"never." gojo's grin widens, and he's already reaching for the button of your jeans. his fingers brush against your hip, and you jolt like you've been shocked. "c'mon, sweet thing. let's get these off you. you're all wet, aren't you? i can smell you from here."
and god, you should say no.
you should push him away and stumble to your feet and call sukuna and scream at him until your voice gives out. but your body has already made the decision for you.
your hips lift off shoko's thigh, a silent, desperate permission, and gojo practically purrs as he yanks your jeans and soaked panties down your legs in one swift motion. the cool air of the room hits your bare, glistening cunt, and you shiver, a needy little sound falling from your lips.
"fuck, she's dripping," gojo breathes, and there's no mockery in his voice now, just raw hunger. "shoko, you've been holding out on us."
"shut up and use your mouth for something useful, satoru."
that's all the encouragement he needs.
he's on his knees between your spread legs before you can blink, big hands gripping your thighs and pushing them apart. and then his mouth is on you—hot, wet, insistent—and you're gone.
your head falls back against shoko's shoulder as gojo's tongue drags through your folds, from your dripping entrance up to your swollen clit, and the sound you make is nothing short of pathetic.
it's too much, it's not enough, it's everything all at once.
your hands fly down to tangle in his soft white hair, and you buck against his face like it's the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
"that's it, baby," shoko murmurs in your ear, her hand sliding up your shirt to palm your bare breast, her thumb flicking over your hardening nipple. "let him make you feel good. you deserve it. you've been so stressed, so upset. just let go."
you're crying again.
you can feel the tears streaming down your temples, mixing with the sweat already beading on your skin. it's too much. the way gojo's tongue is circling your clit, the way shoko's fingers are twisting and pulling at your nipple, the way you can feel geto's eyes on you as he smokes his cigarette, watching you fall apart with that unreadable expression.
you feel so wanted.
"more," you whimper, the word barely a whisper. "more, please, i need—i need to be filled, please—"
gojo pulls back with a wet sound, his chin glistening with your slick. he's grinning, but it's not the cocky grin from before. it's dark, predatory. "you hear that, suguru? she wants to be filled."
geto takes one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the floor, not even bothering to look for an ashtray. he's already unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink making your stomach flip with anticipation and fear. "then let's fill her."
what happens next is a blur of limbs and heat and the wet sounds of bodies coming together.
you're stripped bare in seconds, your shirt torn off so carelessly that a button pings off the wall.
gojo is shucking his jeans, and his cock springs free—long, thick, curved slightly upward, with a bead of precum already glistening at the tip.
geto's is just as intimidating, but darker, more veined, and the sight of them both, hard and ready for you, makes your mouth go dry even as your pussy clenches around nothing.
"you know the drill, don't you?" geto asks, his voice low and rough. he's positioned behind you, his chest against your back, his breath hot against your ear.
shoko has shifted so you're lying on your back, your head pillowed on a stack of her pillows, your legs spread wide.
gojo kneels between them, his cock pressed against your slick folds, teasing you. "you're gonna take us both. you're gonna be our pretty little cocksleeve until you can't remember your own name. think you can handle that, slut?"
the name should sting, but it doesn't. it sends a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you nod frantically, babbling out a string of "yes, yes, please, fuck me, please—"
gojo doesn't need to be told twice. he pushes in, all at once, and the stretch steals the air from your lungs.
he's so fucking big, and your walls flutter and clench around him, trying to accommodate the sudden fullness. your hands fly up to claw at his shoulders, and he hisses, a sharp, pleased sound.
"fuck, she's so tight. gonna be so good, huh? gonna milk my cock so good."
he starts moving, slow, deep strokes that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back. but then geto's hand wraps around your hip, stilling you, and his voice cuts through the fog.
"not yet. i'm not in yet."
you hear the click of a cap, feel the cool slick of lube being spread over your other, untouched hole.
you whimper, a broken, scared sound, because you've never—you've never done this before. but the fear is tangled up with so much arousal that it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.
shoko leans over you, her face swimming into view, and she presses a soft, reassuring kiss to your forehead.
"you can do it, baby. you're so strong. just breathe for me."
and then geto is pushing in, and the sensation is so overwhelming, so utterly foreign, that you scream.
it's not pain, not exactly—it's too much, too much fullness, too much stretch, your body struggling to accept two thick cocks filling you from both ends. you're pinned between them, impaled, helpless, and the tears are streaming down your face as you sob.
"there we go," geto grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he sinks deeper. "taking it so well. such a good little cocksleeve."
gojo starts moving again, a slow, deliberate grind that makes you gasp, and geto follows his rhythm. they find a pace together, one sliding in as the other pulls out, a perfect, punishing rotation that leaves no part of you empty.
the room fills with the sounds of your wet, obscene flesh slapping together, with gojo's low groans and geto's harsh breaths and your own continuous, broken litany of moans and pleas.
"please—fuck—so full, too much, can't—"
"you can," shoko says, and her voice is the only steady thing in the chaos. she shifts until she's straddling your face, her bare cunt hovering just above your lips. "you can take it. and you're gonna make me feel good too, aren't you? you're gonna eat my pussy while they fuck yours. because you're my good girl, right?"
you don't have the words to answer.
you just lift your head, your tongue darting out to lick a stripe up her slit, tasting her, wanting her. she groans, a low, throaty sound, and settles her weight down on your face.
you bury yourself in her, your tongue finding her clit, lapping at her desperately as gojo's cock pounds into you from below and geto's fucks your ass from behind. the angles are perfect, shoko's taste flooding your senses, her moans your only compass.
gojo's hands find your tits, and he immediately starts groping, squeezing, pinching. he brings one to his mouth and sucks the entire nipple inside, swirling his tongue until you're arching your back, a muffled scream escaping into shoko's cunt.
he switches to the other, giving it the same treatment, leaving them both swollen, aching, and glistening with his spit.
"fuck, your tits are perfect," he mutters, his voice muffled against your chest. "wanna live here forever."
geto spanks you.
hard.
the crack of his palm against your ass makes you jolt, and you moan against shoko's pussy as the sting blooms across your skin. he does it again, and again, until your ass is red and smarting and you're sobbing into shoko's folds with a mixture of pain and pleasure that's driving you insane.
"color?" geto asks, his voice gruff.
"green," you gasp against shoko's clit. "so green, please don't stop, please—"
they don't stop.
you lose track of time.
you lose track of everything except the rhythm, the heat, the fullness. you eat shoko's pussy like you've been starving for it, your tongue fucking into her entrance before flicking up to circle her clit, drawing desperate gasps from her lips.
every few minutes, you feel one of them stop, and you open your eyes to see geto and shoko exchanging a cigarette, taking slow, lazy puffs in between the frantic, animalistic fucking. the smoke curls in the air, mingling with the scent of sex and sweat, and it's the most decadent, depraved thing you've ever seen.
you're a mess.
your hair is plastered to your forehead, your thighs are slick with your own juices and their precum, and you can feel the first orgasm building in your gut, a coil of heat that's about to snap. you can feel them picking up the pace, both of them, hammering into you with a desperation that matches your own.
"gonna come," geto growls, his hips stuttering. "gonna fill this tight little ass up."
"me too," gojo breathes, his pace becoming erratic. "gonna pump you full, sweetheart. gonna make you so full of our cum."
and then your phone rings.
it's your designated ringtone for sukuna, and the sound cuts through the haze like a knife.
you try to ignore it, try to focus on the feeling of their cocks slamming into you, on the taste of shoko on your tongue, but it keeps ringing, shrill and insistent.
geto reaches out, his long arm stretching to grab your phone from where it's fallen on the floor. he looks at the screen, and a slow, cruel smile spreads across his face.
"well, well. speak of the devil."
he answers the call and puts it on speaker.
"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" sukuna's voice crackles through the speaker, angry, accusatory. "you thought you could just ignore me? i've been calling you for an hour, you stupid—"
gojo leans into the phone, his voice muffled because his mouth is still buried between your tits, sucking a deep, dark bruise into the soft flesh. "hey, suku. she's a little busy right now."
there's a beat of silence. "who the fuck is this?"
"it's satoru. and suguru. and shoko." gojo punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust that makes you cry out, the sound high-pitched and wanton and unmistakable. "your girl's being a real good little cocksleeve for us. you should hear the sounds she makes."
shoko leans in too, her voice lazy, unconcerned. "hi, kuna. sorry, she's kind of… occupied. can you call back later?"
and you, you can't stop. you can't stop moaning, can't stop the slutty, wanton sounds that keep pouring from your lips with every thrust. "fuck—fuck—please—gonna come—please let me come—i'm so close—"
you hear sukuna's sharp intake of breath, hear the rage and disbelief warring in his voice. "you're fucking kidding me. you're fucking—"
but you can't hear the rest, because the orgasm hits you like a freight train.
it crashes over you, rips through you, and you're screaming into shoko's pussy, your body arching off the floor as gojo and geto follow you over the edge, filling you with hot, pulsing spurts of cum. it drips from your overwhelmed holes, mixes with your own juices, puddles beneath you on the floor.
gojo's phone drops from geto's hand, clattering to the ground as they both collapse on top of you, panting, sweaty, wrecked.
the call is still connected, but no one's talking. just your heavy breathing, your broken sobs, the wet sound of their cocks pulling out of your spent, aching holes.
shoko leans down and presses a soft, tender kiss to your forehead, her voice a whisper of honey and praise.
"you did so good, baby. you're such a good girl. you deserve so much better."
and you lie there, trembling, crying, full, and you can't bring yourself to care that sukuna is still on the line, still listening. because you feel so fucking good. so used, so wanted, so perfect. you feel something that sukuna has never made you feel. not once, not ever.
well, one thing is clear. three people clearly fuck you waaaayyyy better than one.
summary: A sizzling summer of sexy singles and the search for love awaits you in Fiji! You’re nervous, excited, and— confused? Why is your ex-boyfriend’s best friend, Jaehyun, here? And why are you starting to second guess your rekindled friendship?
word count: 3.2k
a/n: this is just the beginning of this little storylne! In case you wonder what villa layout I'm using, I'm going based on the USA villa (#brinity4ever) Enjoy and if you want to get a read on the rest of 127's time in the villa, check it out here!
dividers from diviniyae and robinavitchslut
"Hello, Islanders! I heard there was a party going on!" You shout, lifting a bottle of champagne with a loud whoop.
This is it, the moment you never thought would come. Countless months of interviewing and emails with producers, weeks of being locked up in a hotel room, and a history of bad boyfriends have led you to this moment. An opportunity that not many can say they've had, but now you can.
The table surrounded by your now fellow islanders goes from frozen looks of shock to loud cheers, making you smile as you begin your stride toward the table. The nerves you felt just a few minutes ago have thankfully turned into excitement and confidence. And why not? You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, dressed to the nines and done up like a model as you strut toward the approaching group.
There's too many people that greet you in quick succession for you to get a good look at everyone's faces or to fully catch any names. Somewhere in the hurried introduction, a name and a flash of a familiar face catches a memory in the back of your mind. You don't get a chance to focus on it as the next person approaches you with a hug and a smile. Luckily, you're soon sitting around the fire pit with a cold flute of champagne in your hand and a clear view of everyone's face from your seat on the far edge of the sofa.
You're mindful of your body language, exuding confidence with perfect posture, a bright smile, and casual tosses of your hair over your shoulder while everyone goes down the line to introduce themselves.
You lift you glass to your lips just as the last guy sits forward and immediately you choke, curling forward as you croak out, "Jaehyun?!"
"Do you two know each other?" One of the girls, Bella, you learned her name was, asks, her head swiveling between the two of you.
You nod, clearing your throat, "he's best friends with my ex."
"Was," Jaehyun quickly corrects, cheeks rosy, "we're not friends anymore."
One of the guys, Sam, speaks up, "whoa, what happened there?"
"Jaehyun was the one that told me I got cheated on," you reply, hoping it comes off as nonchalant and not hurt. Lord knows your ex has done enough damage to your self-esteem, you don't need his mess to affect you in the villa too.
Murmurs erupt around the group, a mix of surprise and consolation. You shrug it off, answering questions that the islanders toss your way. You go through the usual spiel of your age, job, where you're from, last relationship, and length of said relationship.
"Wait, what's your type?" One of the guys, Leo, asks.
You hum thoughtfully, "I don't really have a type physically. I think I prefer a guy who is silly and makes me laugh, kind, good values, loyal, a gentleman, and respectful. In any sort of connection I just prefer to build a friendship before focusing on the romantic aspect."
Another guy, Ben, smacks Jaehyun on the back with a smirk, "you have an in, dude!"
You're quick to dispute any romantic interest in Jaehyun before the girls pull you for a chat. The girls break down the current couples of the house but reassure you that no one is closed off quite yet. Everyone is still feeling each other out and obviously the partnerships were based on initial physical attraction, though some girls seem more eager to close things off than others.
You all chat for a while, giving each other your worst date stories before you hear a throat clear behind you. "I was sent to call you over for your boys chat," Jaehyun states awkwardly as he tucks his hands into his pockets.
You laugh softly, taking his extended hand as you step down from the platform and bid the girls goodbye. "Funny seeing you here," you tease with a gentle nudge of your elbow.
"Of all the places on earth," Jaehyun chuckles in agreement.
The conversation with the guys goes almost identically to you conversation with the girls, but it's so obvious that some of the guys are laying the flirtation on thick. One day in the villa and they're already thirsting for the next piece of meat on legs. You wonder if they're actually here to find love or have fun. Despite that, you accept all their compliments, absorb all the information they're giving you, and even let Tony give you a tour of the villa.
Tony is nice, handsome and definitely confident. He walks you through the villa, showing you through each area. "And here we have the bedroom," he tells you with a dramatic wave of his hand, "this is mine and Mei's bed, but it can be you and I's if you play your cards right."
Somewhere on the tour of the second floor, one of the couples, Sam and Luna, join you before you all end up on the last stop, the kitchen. You're not sure how much time has passed, but you're both exhausted and happy to snack on chips while you make conversation with everyone around you.
When bedtime is finally called, you're grateful to be in a fresh room, clean faced, and in a soft bed. You settle beneath the covers and sigh happily. The first day is done, you survived and everyone seems nice. The apprehension you felt just a few hours ago is long gone, and you're relieved to have been welcomed warmly.
Over the course of the next couple days, you make your way around the villa, getting a feel of every guy, well, almost every guy. You're polite with Jaehyun but also hyper aware of how odd the situation is. You never felt romantic feelings for him when you hung out before coming on the show, so why would those feelings be there now? He was handsome, sure, that was undeniable, but why put forth effort for something you already know isn't there?
You've spent most of your few days in the villa getting to know the rest of the guys, feeling out potential vibes and connections. No one has fully blown you away, but you know you're looking to build a solid foundation of friendship before diving headfirst into romance.
Tony almost immediately took himself out of the running with his joke on night one and the fact that he is hardly subtle about keeping his gaze on your face and not your chest when he pulls you for conversations. The other girls have shared their same experiences, so it's pretty clear Tony is just there for a summer of exploring rather than actual love. He also seems incapable of talking about anything but his gym routine, his meal prepping, and his muscles. Conversations with him never seem short enough.
Thankfully, the other conversations go semi-better. Sam manages to sneak Luna into every conversation you two have which makes you melt. In the course of the week, you find yourself even giving him advice on how to woo Luna, you already love them together so you won't be stepping on any toes there. Ben is also nice, he's funny, but tells you after just a couple conversations that he's not feeling any romantic chemistry with you. You can't fault him for his feelings and you appreciate his honesty. All signs lead you back to Leo.
Leo has been nice. You both have a decent amount in common and he's very keen to get to know you, constantly pulling you for chats that always end with you clutching your stomach with laughter. As fun as the conversation are though, nothing clicks right away. There have been no sparks, but you force that self-sabotaging voice to shut up. Your journey will have to take some time, especially since you want to build a friendship first. You just have to take it all day by day.
At the end of the first week, in the middle of your conversation with Leo, your phone dings loudly. "I got a text!" You shout, jumping to stand up on the couch, "Islanders, tonight there will a recoupling, boy's choice. As bombshell, I will get the opportunity to have first pick of the boys."
The boys cheer excitedly and the girls eye each other nervously. You dance excitedly on the bench, stopping only when you hear a snort of laughter from the kitchen. You stop, a playful glare focused on Jaehyun, "I get first choice, Jae. If I were you, I'd be flirting my ass off instead of laughing at someone else's happiness."
"I'm not laughing at your happiness," he rolls his eyes playfully, "I'm laughing at those horrible dance moves."
Your jaw drops in mock offense as he shuffles away to a lounger to chat with his partner, Maya. You bid Leo goodbye as you seek out his current partner Jade to let her know where your head is at. You don't want it to be a shock to her and you certainly don't want to let your decision ruin the friendships you're already forming.
"You have nothing to worry about," Jade reassures you with a tight embrace, "I know you're not in the best spot, coming in as a bombshell and having to steal a guy. I really appreciate you letting me know though."
You let out a long exhale, slumping back against the swing seat while wiping fake sweat from your brow, "you're the best. Seriously."
Just a few hours later, when the sun has set and the cool sea breeze has begun to blow, Ariana, the host, struts toward the fire pit where you're all waiting anxiously. She smiles at you all making small talk about your experiences so far before she instructs the rest of the girls to stand in front of the fire pit and calls your name, "as the bombshell, the first choice of the first recoupling is yours. Who would you like to couple up with?"
You exhale softly, wringing your hands together as you stare ahead nervously over the flames of the fire, "I want to couple up with this person, because he's been super nice and we have good conversations. It's early days, but I think we're on the right track to building what could be a great relationship."
"So the guy I would like to couple up with is…" you pause, "Leo."
Leo beams as the islanders around you clap and cheer. He keeps an arm around you as the rest of the villa goes through the recoupling. You're hardly able to focus as your heart returns to it's normal heart rate after the anxiety of making a speech and choosing your first partner.
"Jade, as the only girl not in a couple, you are now single and vulnerable," Ariana recites, making your stomach lurch with guilt, "but you're journey isn't over yet. Get your flirt on, make some connections, and I'll see you all soon."
The tension lifts at Ariana's words immediately. You give a casual pat to Leo's thigh before crossing the deck to hug Jade and apologize once more for leaving her single. She waves you off, jokingly telling you that now she has the upper hand to get first dibs on the next bombshell to enter.
The next day, you find yourself refilling your water bottle when someone clears their throat harshly behind you. You jump at the startling sound and turn to find Jaehyun standing there with an amused smirk, "can I pull you?"
You nod, taking a sip of water before following him up the stairs to a sunken daybed that's been named with neon lights, 'Soul Ties', "don't make a habit of scaring me as your greeting."
He holds out a hand to help you down the steps before you settle into the pillows with a hum, ignoring the unexpected spark of warmth at his touch. Jaehyun extends his arms on the edge of the bed, stretching his legs out before he turns his gaze to you, "so I noticed you've been avoiding me."
You cough, cheeks hot at his bluntness, "I would hardly call it avoiding. I'm being polite, getting to know everyone, taking advantage of getting to know new people and all that."
"You've had a conversation with every guy but me since you got here. Hell, you're even talking to Tony more than me and I know he doesn't make eye contact. Yeah, you have been polite, but you've been super…" he trails off.
"Charming, beautiful, and amazing?" You offer with a smile.
"Awkward." He corrects with a straight face, "Look, I know the last time we saw each other wasn't the best time, but we were friends. We can still be friendly here. I don't want you to feel awkward around me or feel like you have to avoid me because I was the cause of your last relationship ending."
"No way!" You quickly interrupt, reaching out to place a comforting hand over his own, "my last relationship ended because of his shitty actions. You were the messenger of the unfortunate news but I don't fault you for anything. You were incredibly brave and kind to tell me that. I'm really sorry I've been weird around you. I don't want to ruin your experience here or make you feel like you can't talk to me either. You're right, we can be friends again. It's actually really nice to have someone from home here."
"It is nice," he agrees with a soft smile before letting out an exhale of relief, "How's your mom?"
Your brows furrow in confusion as you reel back, "you remember my mom? When did you guys even meet?"
"One time I had to drop you off at home when you got too drunk. You told me your parents' place was closer so I took you there. Nice lady," he explains simply. From there, it's easy to get lost in conversation. You both reminisce on your time before the villa before any drama even went down for hours, hardly even noticing the sun slowly sinking on the horizon.
In the midst of your laughter, a pair of slapping sandals draws your attention toward Maya, Jaehyun's partner who stands with her arms crossed and a smile that looks sweet at first, but the longer you look up at her, the more irritation you see. "You guys have been up here all day! I almost forgot you recoupled with Leo last night," she laughs brittly.
Jaehyun clears his throat as he stands, holding his hand out to help you up, but Maya's gaze burns, so you instead get up by yourself. "We were just catching up, we're old friends, remember?" he attempts to ease the tension.
"Right, friends. Glad to see two friends getting close. Let's go, Jae," Maya instructs, wrapping a hand around his wrist to drag him off before you can even get another word in.
The tension Maya brought with her makes your hair raise and want to get away as soon as possible. Still, you can vaguely make out Jaehyun's voice telling her, "I'd actually prefer if you called me Jaehyun."
You amble down the stairs with your brows pinched, walking across the lawn toward Jade who sits on a lounger beside Leo on pool deck. Leo perks up, patting the spot at the end of his chair for you to take a seat, "hey there!"
"What's with that look?" Jade snorts.
Your gaze is drawn back up to the second floor, where Jaehyun and Maya sit outside the beauty room in a conversation of their own. "I just had the strangest interaction with Maya, like she was mad I was talking to Jaehyun, who I've already said is just a friend, or something," you mumble as you set your water bottle down.
"Oh shit!" Leo laughs as he sits up, "I thought you were avoiding him because the girls had already given you the full rundown. Maya is… she's intense."
"Intense how?" You ask slowly.
"She waltzed in on night one and refused to actually take part in the ice breaker challenge until she had conversations 'of substance' with each of us guys because she's not looking for a summer fling—" Leo explains before Jade cuts him off.
"She's here looking for a husband," Jade chuckles as she twists her hair up and clips it back, "she deemed Jaehyun the most husband-like of all the guys and has her claws sunk in him. It's only a week in so obviously he's still taking it slow. I think her before bed conversation is how many kids she wants."
"Sheesh," you wince, "she does sound intense."
Leo runs his hands through his hair with an amused smile, "beside that, you had a good conversation though?"
"Yeah, no more weird vibes," you confirm before playfully narrowing your gaze between your two fellow islanders and a lazy point between them, "reigniting sparks here?"
"We were actually planning a threesome between the three of us," Jade quickly responds.
You tense, blinking blanky at her. Leo reaches over to smack her arm as he begins to cackle, Jade joins and you slump down in relief, joining in on the laughter. You wipe tears away from the corners of your eyes, "I think the two of you are going to be a problem for me."
Jade shrugs with a bright smile, "you'll learn to love it."
That night, after avoiding Maya and her harsh glare, you jump onto your bed and pull the covers over your legs. Leo is on the far side of the room practicing some kind of handshake with Ben. Jaehyun flops onto his back on the bed beside your own, his microphone discarded on the bedside table between your beds. Being in the bed beside Jaehyun and Maya never felt weird before, but now it does. You're overtly conscious of your actions as you keep your gaze low and pull off your microphone, winding the cord neatly.
"Hey," you hear Jaehyun say.
You peek over at him from the corner of your eye, feeling your cheeks heat at the sight of him. His hair is messy and damp from his shower and chest bare and tanned from a week in the sun. He looks unbelievably comfortable in his pajama pants but also unbelievably handsome with his glasses on. You don't trust your voice and instead arch your brow at him in response.
"Do you still like vanilla lattes?" He asks as he turns on his side to face you.
"Yes…"
"Awesome, I'll whip one up for you in the morning."
You don't even get the chance to dissuade him when the rest of the girls come pouring into the room. You instead lay down, turning to face Jade now in her own bed on the opposite side to make conversation before Leo comes to bed.
You're nearly asleep, Leo is knocked out beside you as you turn away from your partner to find a more comfortable position, when you hear a soft whisper of your name. You open your eyes, gaze unfocused for a second before you see the soft wave of Jaehyun's hand, "good night."
You pull the covers higher to conceal your smile before whispering, "good night, Jae."
a/n: There's plenty more to come including growing closer, the challenge with the kiss, and more ~tension~!!!! feedback is encouraged and appreciated <3
in which you accidentally let jungwon know he’s been cheated on, and instead of killing the messenger, he…falls in love with you?
pairing senior center director!jungwon x preschool teacher!fem reader genre crack, raunchy, neighbors au, angst(ish?), fluff warnings profanity, crude humor — note SSC is short for sunshine senior center, though i’ll probably mention that later 🙂↕️🙂↕️ anw first chapter hey!! and THANKS FOR 300 FOLLOWERS 😭😭💖💖💖
ʚɞ pairing : nerd!jungwon x f!reader (feat. sunghoon of enhypen, yunah, minju, and wonhee of illit, wonbin of riize)
ʚɞ synopsis : in which yn needs the ultimate distraction to get her toxic ex off her back, and the school's cold academic club president is the prefect candidate for a fake relationship. the terms are strictly business, and the rules are clear. but when things get too real, neither of them know how to continue acting.
ʚɞ genre : fake dating, fluff, highschool!au (not proofread im so sorry)
ʚɞ wc : 14.3k
ʚɞ author's note : finally the long awaited nerd!won ficcccc. im so sry for taking long with this one. i had dozens of ideas for this specific pairing and i ended up switching like three times before finally settling on this one. i apologize if this seems rushed or like fast paced... ALSOO no hate for wonbin, he might be the culprit here but i have nothing against him at all. hope u all enjoy ♡
the words "i just really need to focus on myself right now, yn" were still ringing in your ears.
it had been exactly a week since wonbin sat you down by the school bleachers, looking terribly conflicted, and told you that he just didn't have the emotional bandwidth for a relationship. he claimed his classes were getting heavy, that he was tired of the constant emotional upkeep of dating, and that he needed to find himself.
you had cried. you had felt guilty for taking up his precious time. you had genuinely believed him.
which was exactly why the sight currently unfolding in front of you in the courtyard felt like a literal slap in the face.
there was wonbin. and braced against his side, laughing at something he muttered, was minju. wonbin wasn't looking tired of relationships at all. in fact, he looked perfectly energized as he reached down, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and intertwined his fingers with hers.
"are you kidding me?" your best friend, yunah, hissed from beside you. "he needed to fucking 'focus on himself'? is minju's name 'himself' now?"
your sadness evaporated in a single, scorching second, replaced by a wave of pure fury. your blood ran hot. it wasn't just the heartbreak anymore—it was the humiliation. he had played you for a fool, expecting you to sit around and pine while he easily moved into his next romance without missing a beat.
"he thinks i'm going to be just the sad ex who cries in the bathroom," you muttered, eyes following wonbin as he smiled at something minju said.
"what are you going to do?" yunah asked, looking at you with a mix of worry and excitement. "please tell me we're keying his car."
"no," you said, a dangerous plan instantly forming in your mind. "that gets us suspended. i need to hurt his pride. he thinks he's the best i can do? he think i'm going to spend the next month miserable? i'm going to show him exactly how fast i can move on."
yunah scoffed, "with who? every guy in our circle is friends with him. if you pick one of them, it'll just look like a messy rebound trap."
"then i won't pick someone from our circle," you responded simply.
your eyes scanned past the soccer field, past the popular kids crowding the benches, and landed on the quiet, shaded steps of the old building.
sitting there, completely unfazed by the lunchtime chaos, was yang jungwon.
he wasn't the type of nerd who hid in the back of the class making no eye contact. jungwon was the top of the class, the model student, and the president of the academic club. he was sharply dressed, his school blazer always perfectly pressed, and he carried himself with a quiet confidence that kept people from bothering him.
he was attractive, but in a structured, untouchable way. he simply didn't care about drama, which made him invisible to the popular crowd.
"jungwon?" yunah followed your gaze and gasped. "yang jungwon? the guy who corrected the calculus teacher last week? yn, he doesn't even look at girls. he looks at math equations."
"exactly," you said, a slow smirk spreading across your face. "he's perfect. no one would ever expect it. it'll drive wonbin insane trying to figure out how a guy like jungwon took his place."
"he's never going to agree to it. he doesn't do favors," yunah warned.
"everyone has a price, yunah," you muttered, turning on your heel and walking toward the old building. "i just have to find out what his is."
the old building was completely different from the loud, chaotic courtyard. it smelled like dusty book and whiteboard markers, and the hallway was dead silent.
you pushed open the heavy wooden door to the academic clubroom. the small click of the latch echoed loudly in the silent space.
sitting at the very back table, under the pale glow of the sun, was jungwon. he didn't look up immediately. he was leaning over a massive textbook, a pen moving smoothly across a sheet of grid paper. he looked like the definition of a model student.
you walked over, sneaker squeaking slightly on the floor, and stopped right in front of his desk.
jungwon capped his pen with a quiet click. he slowly lifted his head, sharp eyes blinking once, then twice, as he looked at you. there was no surprise on his face. he didn't get flustered seeing a popular student council member in his quiet room. he just looked at you like you were a minor distraction.
"are you lost?" he asked. his voice was calm and completely flat. "sorry, but this isn't the drama club."
"i'm not lost. i'm exactly where i want to be," you said, crossing your arms and trying to look confident, even though your heart was still hammering from the anger you felt. "i'm here for you, jungwon."
jungwon looked down at his watch, then back up at you. "you have exactly seven minutes left of lunch break. make it quick."
you took a deep breath, deciding to just lay it all out. "i need you to be my fake boyfriend."
the room went silent. jungwon didn't gasp, didn't blush, but stared at you for a long five seconds with his expression blank. then, he picked his pen back up, uncapped it, and looked back down at his book. "no," he answered.
"wait, what? you didn't even let me explain," you protested, leaning your hands on the edge of his desk.
"i don't need an explanation, yn," he responded, writing down another formula without skipping a beat. "playing pretend boyfriend is a waste of time. it doesn't help my grades, it doesn't look good on my college applications, and honestly, i don't care about whatever drama you have going on with wonbin."
your jaw dropped. "how do you even know about wonbin?"
"everyone knows. you guys are loud," he muttered, still not looking at you. "now, please leave. i need to finish this practice test before next period."
you bit your lip. yunah had been right. jungwon wasn't the type of guys you could just charm into doing a favor. he was like a wall of pure logic. but luckily, you had a secret weapon. you let out a soft laugh. "that's a real shame, jungwon. i guess you won't care about the student council's budget meeting next week either."
the pen paused. jungwon didn't move, but you could tell he was listening.
"what are you talking about?" he asked quietly.
"i'm the social media chair for the student council, remember?" you smirked. "i sit in on all the official meetings. yesterday, the treasurer went over the budget requests for next semester. i saw your club was on the list. you asked for quite a lot of money for a national competition and new math software."
jungwon slowly set his pen down and finally looked up. "go on."
"the request got rejected," you pouted, watching his expression carefully. "the treasurer said your club has zero student engagement. nobody joins, nobody comes to your events, and your social media page hasn't been updated since last year. the school thinks your club is dead weight. if things stay like this, they're cutting your funding completely by the end of the month."
his posture stiffened. you could tell this actually hit a nerve. he cared about this club more than anything.
"that's unfair," he frowned. "we do actual work here. we shouldn't lose our budget just because we don't throw parties like the sports teams."
"fair or not, that's how high school works," you replied, tilting your head. "but... i can fix it for you. i know exactly how to make this club look like the place to be. i can create a whole social media campaign, get people talking, and bring in new members. by two or three weeks, your engagement numbers will be so high the school won't have any choice but to give you the money."
jungwon leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. he looked at you, eyes scanning your face. "and in exchange, i have to pretend to date you so you can make your ex jealous."
"exactly," you nodded. "a simple trade. i save your club, you help me bruise wonbin's ego. it's a win-win."
jungwon was silent for a moment. you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he weighed the pros and cons. finally, he let out a soft sigh and shook his head with a tiny, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. he tore a clean sheet of paper out of his notebook, picked up his pen, and began to write.
"rule number one, no real feelings. this is a deal to get what we both need," he stated. "rule number two, we don't do pda unless it's necessary. and rule number three, don't text me after ten."
he spun the sheet around so it faced you. "sounds fair?" he asked with an easygoing smile plastered on his face.
you stared at the written rules, eyes scanning his neat handwriting. It felt surreal. just ten minutes ago, you were stressing out at your locker, and now you are signing a relationship "contract" with yang jungwon.
"fair," you muttered, picking up the pen and scribbling your signature at the bottom of the page. "but i have one condition to add."
jungwon tilted his head, "which is?"
"if wonbin or any of his friends try to slide a slick comment my way, you can't just stand there and ignore it. you have to actually act like you care," you said, handing the pen back to him. "a real boyfriend wouldn't just let his girlfriend get trash-talked."
jungwon took the pen and didn't hesitate as he wrote Rule #4 : Mutual Defense Protocol at the bottom of the sheet, signing his own name right next to yours.
the bell for the next class suddenly rang through the hallways, breaking the quiet tension in the room. you smiled, taking the pen back from him and stepping toward the door.
"i'll text you tonight, jungwon," you called out with a wink.
as the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind you, a rush of pure satisfaction washed over you. wonbin wanted to see you miserable? he was in for a very rude awakening.
that night, you were lying flat on your back in bed, staring blankly at your bedroom ceiling. the anger from earlier today had faded into a dull, restless energy. your phone buzzed against your stomach, making you flinch.
[yunah] :
did you talk to him?
is the nerd officially on the payroll?
[you] :
it's official!!!!
we signed a literal contract lmao
setting yunah's chat aside, you opened a new message window. you stared at the unsaved phone number jungwon had quickly scribbled on a sticky note before you left the clubroom. your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a minute.
what were you even supposed to say to a guy like jungwon?
you checked the digital clock on your nightstand, a glowing 9:55 p.m. nearly blinding you.
five minutes before his 10 p.m. rule, you thought, a small smirk playing on your lips. you quickly type out a text and hit send
[you] :
hey, it's yn
js checking in to plan out first public appearance
u awake?
you threw the phone face-down on your comforter, fully expecting him to take an hour to reply, or maybe just ignore it until the morning. but barely thirty seconds later, your phone vibrated.
[jungwon] :
Yeah, I'm awake.
Still studying.
You have 5 minutes before rule #3 goes in effect.
you let out a soft laugh, sitting up and leaning against your headboard. he was unbelievable.
[you] :
wow okay direct much
look, tmrw morning is the real test
wonbin always hangs out by the courtyard before the first bell rings
so we need to walk in together
there was a pause. the little typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.
[jungwon] :
Do you want me to meet you at the school gate?
[you] :
yes!!
meet me by the bus stop at 7:45
we walk through the gates together
oh and make sure ur uniform looks nice
not that it doesn't usually
js look like a guy who is happy to see his gf
[jungwon] :
My uniform always looks nice.
And I don't know what a 'happy boyfriend' looks like.
Should I smile?
you stared at the text, completely amused. was he seriously asking for instructions on how to smile?
[you] :
yes jungwon
smiling seems like a good idea when ur dating someone
js act natural
don't look like ur walking to an execution
[jungwon] :
Understood.
I will adjust my expressions accordingly.
you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't stop the small smile growing on your face. he talked like a literal robot, but there was something oddly charming about how seriously he was taking this.
[you] :
perfect :)
see u at 7:45
don't be late!!!!
[jungwon] :
I'm never late.
It's 9:59 PM now.
Goodnight, yn.
The communication window is now closed.
you burst out laughing, staring at the screen as the clock strick exactly 10:00 p.m. you didn't even bother replying, knowing he probably wouldn't read it anyway.
you locked your phone and tossed it onto your nightstand, pulling the blankets up to your chin. for the first time in a week, you didn't go to sleep thinking about wonbin or the hurt in your chest. instead, your mind was completely occupied by a sharp-tongued nerd who was adjusting his schedule to fit you into it.
the next morning, your adrenaline was already running on high. you stood by the bus stop across from the school gates, shifting your weight from foot to foot.
you had spent an extra ten minutes in front of the mirror that morning, making sure your hair looked effortless and your lip tint was perfectly applies. if you were going to debut a new relationship, you had to look flawless.
you checked your phone. 7:44 a.m.
"right on time," a calm voice muttered from behind you.
you jumped slightly, turning around to see jungwon standing there. true to his word, his uniform was immaculate. his tie was perfectly centered, his blazer was buttoned, and his backpack was slung neatly over one shoulder.
"good morning to you too," you greeted. "you didn't sneak up on me on purpose, did you?"
"no. you were just staring at your phone like you were preparing for battle," he pointed out casually. "are you ready? i reviewed the courtyard layout. if your ex sits where he usually does, we'll walk past him."
you stared at him, a mixture of disbelief and amusement bubbling up inside you. "did you seriously map out a route?"
"efficiency is key, yn," he replied simply, but a tiny smirk played at his lips. "let's go."
as you both crossed the street and walked through the grand stone gates of the school, the atmosphere instantly shifted. the courtyard was packed with students chatting, laughing, and ragging their feet before the first bell.
and right there, leaning against the main brick arches just like you predicted, was wonbin. his arm was casually looped around minju's shoulders, laughing loudly at something a guy on the soccer team said.
"don't look at him," jungwon mumbled. "look at me."
you blinked, turning your head to face him. before you could say anything, he reached down. his long fingers slid against yours, his palm warm against your slightly cold skin. he squeezed your hand firmly, intertwining his fingers with yours without a single shred of hesitation.
your heart gave a violent, erratic thud against your ribs. your breath completely hitched in your throat. you looked down at your joined hands, then up at his face in pure shock.
rule number two, you thought wildly. no unnecessary touching.
jungwon didn't look flustered at all. he just leaned down slightly, tilting his head toward yours, a calm smile plastered on his face. "smile," he muttered. "you're supposed to happy, remember?"
up close, you noticed how clear his eyes were, and you could smell the faint scent of fresh laundry soap that drifted off his uniform. your hand in his felt steady, sending a warm tingle up your arm.
you didn't even have to fake the smile anymore—a genuine, slightly breathless laugh escaped your lips. right on cue, jungwon let out a soft chuckle too, his eyes crinkling at the corners. to anyone else looking, you two looked like a couple completely wrapped up in their own world, holding hands on a crisp morning.
"hey, isn't that...?" a voice from a distance said.
the loud laughter around the arches abruptly stopped. you risked a glance past jungwon's shoulder.
wonbin was staring directly at your joined hands. his arm had completely dropped from minju's shoulder. his jaw was tight, eyes slightly wide with utter confusion and irritation as he watched the school's top model student holding hands with his fresh ex-girlfriend. the look of bruised pride on his face was a work of art.
"target acquired," jungwon whispered, a sharp little dimple popping up on his cheek as he noticed wonbin's reaction. "he looks like he just swallowed a lemon."
you laughed out loud this time, feeling a massive wave of triumph wash over your chest. "you're a natural at this, jungwon."
"don't get used to it," he replied quietly.
even though you had completely walked past wonbin and entered the main hallway where the crowd thinned out, jungwon didn't immediately drop your hand. his fingers stayed securely locked with yours, his warm palm grounding as he walked you all the way to your classroom door.
only when you reached your desk did he finally let go, sliding his hand casually into his blazer pocket.
"see you at lunch, yn," he said with a small nod before turning on his heel.
by the time the fourth period bell rang, your phone was buzzing nonstop from the amount of notifications you received. yunah had texted you in all caps at least fifteen times, and a few people your wider social circle had subtly tried to ask if the rumors were true.
but the most satisfying notification was the one that didn't matter anymore. wonbin had posted a strangely moody quote on his private story. it was working.
you wrapped up your student council duties a few minutes early and headed toward the cafeteria. the loud room was already packed to the brim with students buying food, gossiping, and trading seats.
you scanned the room, eyes automatically bypassing the middle section where the popular kids and athletes usually crowded. instead, you looked toward the quiet tables near the windows.
there jungwon was, sitting alone at a four-person table, his back straight a neat bento box open in front of him. true to form, he had a small book propped up against his water bottle, his eyes scanning the words while he chewed. he looked isolated form the rest of the noisy cafeteria. at least until you walked over.
the moment you pulled out the chair across from him, you could feel the eyes burning into your back.
jungwon didn't look up immediately. he calmly chewed on his food, swallowed, and then closed his book with a quiet snap. "you're late by two minutes," he said.
"i had to drop off some paperwork at the council room." you explained, sitting down and setting your lunch tray on the table. you leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice. "did you see the hallway earlier? people are literally staring at us right now.
"i noticed. three different people in my homeroom asked me if i was being blackmailed. one of them asked if you were holding my grades hostage."
you choked on your milk, letting out a sudden laugh. "are you serious? what did you tell them?"
"i told them you fell for my brains," jungwon replied smoothly. "it seemed like the most believable lie."
before you could respond, a shadow fell over your table.
"yn?"
you froze, looking up to see wonbin standing at the edge of your table. he didn't have minju with him this time. he was alone, holding an energy drink, and his eyebrows were knitted together in a tight frown. he looked out of place standing near the quiet window tables.
"hey, wonbin," you said, keeping your voice steady. "can i help you with something?"
wonbin's eyes darted sharply from you to jungwon, who was currently taking a slow sip of his water, acting as if wonbin were invisible. "can we talk for a second? privately?" he asked, voice dropping as he leaned in slightly. "i just... i saw you this morning. with him. is this some kind of joke?"
"a joke?" you tilted your head, letting out an amused smile. "why would it be a joke?"
"because it's him," he hissed, pointing a finger vaguely toward jungwon. "i broke up with you last week, yn. you told me you were devastated. and now you're suddenly holding hands with the president of the academic club? it doesn't make any sense."
your blood started to run hot. the sheer nerve of this guy—who had literally replaced you—questioning your timeline was infuriating. you opened your mouth to snap back, but before a single word could leave your lips, someone else spoke up.
"it makes perfect sense if you could think logically."
jungwon's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear, cutting right through wonbin's words. jungwon set his water bottle down on the table with a firm thud. he didn't look angry. if anything, he looked entitely bored, which made it ten times worse for wonbin's ego.
wonbin snapped his gaze to jungwon. "what did you just say?"
"i said it's simple, wonbin," jungwon repeated, leaning back in his chair. "she was wasting her time with a guy who couldn't balance his own life, so she upgraded to someone who can. you told her you were too tired and busy for a relationship, right? well, i have plenty of time. especially for her."
you stared at jungwon, jaw dropping slightly. you had forgotten about the rule you had added yesterday. he wasn't just acting. he was completely shutting wonbin down with a calm precision that left no room for argument.
wonbin's face turned a deep shade of red. he opened his mouth to say something slick, but jungwon didn't give him the chance.
jungwon reached across the small table, his warm fingers gently wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hand into his. he didn't look at wonbin anymore, he just looked directly at you as his thumb lightly brushed against the back of your knuckles in a way that felt entirely unscripted.
"eat your lunch, yn," jungwon murmured, voice softening just enough to make your heart skip a beat.
wonbin stood there for three agonizing seconds, looking back and forth between your hands and jungwon's face. realizing he had completely lost this round, he let out and angry curse under his breath and stormed back to his friends.
your eyes locked on jungwon, who was already letting go of your hand and picking up his chopsticks.
"rule number four," he added quietly. "mutual defense protocol. did i do okay?"
you swallowed, heart hammering against your rips for a whole different reason than revenge. "uh, yeah. you did perfect."
that evening, after the final plan, your brain was completely fried. you packed your bags and walked down to the school library, which was mostly empty except for a few students studying for exams.
you found jungwon tucked away in the very back corner. he already had his laptop open, a neat notebook placed beside it, and, to your surprise, two plastic cup sitting on the wooden table. one was a plain iced americano, and the other was a cold strawberry milk.
you pulled out the chair across from him and dropped your bag onto the floor. "is that for me?" you questioned, pointing at the strawberry milk.
his hand reached out and lightly pushed the cup toward you. "you didn't get to finish yours at lunch because of the interruption. i factored it into my budget for the day," he said. your heart did a tiny flip. you picked up the sweet drink, the cold plastic cooling down your warm hands. "thanks, jungwon. that's so sweet of you."
"don't read into it," he looked up at you. "if my fake girlfriend looks miserable and dehydrated, the rumors won't hold up. now, show me what we're working with."
you rolled your eyes as you sat down and pulled out your tablet. "alright, mr. logic. let's look at your club's official page."
for the next two hours, the school drama completely melted away. you showed jungwon the analytics, pointing out how the club's old posts were just blocks of boring text and blurry photos of whiteboards.
"see? no one wants to read a text wall of theories on their feed," you pointed out, leaning over the table to give him a clearer view. "we need aesthetic shots. soft lighting, candid photos of you guys studying, maybe some fun short videos. we need to make your club look like a cozy place to hang out."
jungwon watched your fingers move across the screen, listening intently. you noticed how focused he was. he didn't interrupt you once. he actually respected your expertise the same way you respected his intelligence.
"i see," he mumbled. he looked up and for a second, he just stared at you. "you're actually really good at this."
"of course i am," you whispered back, suddenly feeling a little breathless from how close he was sitting. "i don't just post selfies, jungwon. i know what i'm doing."
"clearly," he said softly. he cleared his throat and leaned back, breaking the intense eye contact. "the library closes in ten minutes. we should continue this over the weekend. there's a quiet café near the subway station. meet me there on saturday noon?"
"a saturday date?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "is that allowed under the contract?"
and on saturday, the café was warm and smelled heavily of roasted coffee beans. it was a rainy afternoon, the drops tapping softly against the windows. you walked in wearing an oversized sweater and jeans, scanning the room until you spotted a familiar dark-haired boy sitting by the window.
jungwon was wearing a casual black hoodie, looking different without his stiff school uniform, he looked softer, and incredibly handsome.
as you approached the table, he looked up form his book. his eyes blinked, tracking you for a second, and his usual calm expression faltered just a tiny bit. he closed his book shut with a snap.
"hey," you smiled. "have you been waiting long?"
"no, just a few minutes," he answered, voice a little softer than usual. he cleared his throat, eyes lingering on your sweater before meeting your gaze. "you... look nice today. the sweater looks pretty on you."
your cheeks instantly flared up with a sudden, warm blush. you sat down quickly, trying to his your flustered face by adjusting your bag. "oh. thanks, jungwon. i didn't think you noticed things like clothes."
"just being observant," he murmured, a tiny bit of pink dusting the tip of his ears as he looked down at his coffee cup. "you're not wearing your blazer," you noted. he squinted his eyes playfully. "it's the weekend. even i don't wear uniform to bed."
you let out a genuine chuckle. "good to know," you said. "i kind of pictured you sleeping in a three-piece suit with a calculator in hand."
his shoulder shook a little as he laughed. "i'm a regular person, yn. i don't just eat, sleep, and breathe math equations."
as the afternoon passed, your laptops surprisingly stayed in your bags. you meant to work on the social media layout, but instead, you found yourself just talking.
you learned that jungwon disliked spicy food, loved listening to indie music, and was fiercely protective of his older sister. in return, you found yourself telling him about how stressed you were about your upcoming student council elections, and how much you feared failing people's expectations.
jungwon listened to you talk, his chin resting in his hand, eyes never leaving your face. there was no audience here. wonbin wasn't around to see. but jungwon was dialed in.
"you worry too much about what everyone else thinks," he commented quietly, breaking a short silence. his voice was gentle. "you're smart, and you work harder than anyone else in that council. you don't need to prove anything to people who don't matter."
you stared at him, heart skipping a massive beat. the smile he usually had was gone, replaced by a look of pure sincerity.
"thanks," you murmured, suddenly feeling very warm despite the chilly rain outside.
he blinked, suddenly realizing how intense the mood had gotten. he swallowed, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time. "it's... 4:30 already. we've been here for a while."
"we didn't even talk about the social media plan," you realized, looking at your bag.
jungwon stood up, pulling his hoodie over his head a bit more as he grabbed his things. he looked down at you, that small smirk returning to his face. "that's fine. we can call it a successful team-building exercise. see you on monday."
the next monday morning brought a weird, buzzing energy. sitting in third-period english class, you kept finding your eyes drifting toward the middle row where jungwon sat for it was the only class you had with him. but every time you remembered how soft he looked with his hoodie, or the way he murmured "the sweater looks pretty on you," your stomach did a little flutter.
"alright, quiet down," the teacher called out, clapping her hands. "for the next two weeks, we'll be doing a literature analysis project. i've already assigned your partners. look at the board."
a collective groan echoed through the room. you scanned the screen until you found your name.
yn and park sunghoon.
you blinked. sunghoon was one of wonbin's close friends from the varsity sports circle. he was effortlessly handsome, highly popular, and incredibly charismatic.
before you could even process it, sunghoon slid into the empty set next to you with a charming look on his face.
"hey, partner," he muttered, leaning his elbow on your desk. he leaned in a little closer than necessary. "looks like we're stuck together. don't worry about the heavy lifting, though, i'll handle the writing if you handle the presentation. deal?"
"oh. yeah, sure," you nodded, pulling your chair back a tiny bit to create some space. "that works."
"perfect," sunghoon pulled out his phone, sliding it across your desk with grin. "type your number in. you know, so we can... collaborate after hours."
across the classroom, the sharp snap of a lead pencil breaking echoed quietly.
you didn't notice, but it was jungwon's pencil. he stared down at his notebook, jaw tight as he stared at the broken piece of graphite. he didn't understand why his chest suddenly felt tight, or why he felt and urge to throw his notebook at the back sunghoon's head.
it's just an english project, jungwon told himself. she can talk to whoever she wants.
but as sunghoon leaned even closer, laughing at a quiet comment you made, jungwon's grip on his pen tightened until his knuckles turned white.
the moment the bell rang for lunch, sunghoon stood up, giving you a wink. "text me later."
as sunghoon walked out, jungwon was on his feet. he marched right up your desk, grabbing your bag before you could even reach for it. "hey!" you gasped. jungwon didn't say a word. he only gripped the strap, face an unreadable mask of irritation as he pulled out out into the hallway.
"jungwon, what's wrong with you?" you asked, trying to keep up with his fast strides as he led you toward the quieter hallway near the student council storage lockers. "why are you acting like this?"
he stopped abruptly, turning around to face you. "rule number four."
"what?"
"mutual defense protocol," he continued. "sunghoon is wonbin's friend. he was crowding your space on purpose to test the waters. a real boyfriend wouldn't just sit there and let another guy hit on his girlfriend right in front of him."
your frown deepened. "he was just asking for my number for the project, jungwon. were you... jealous?"
"i don't get jealous, yn. it's a useless emotion," he snapped quickly, though a faint hint of red rushed up his neck. "i'm simply executing the terms of our contract with the best i could give."
"right. the contract," you mumbled, feeling a sudden drop in your stomach.
the rest of the school day passed in a complete blur. but no matter how hard you tried to focus on your remaining classes, your mind kept looping back to the tight grip jungwon had on your bag and the tense tone of his voice.
you were still trying to untangle those thoughts after the final bell rang, having volunteered to help the council organize the old sports equipment storage room. you had also offered to lock up the room.
you clicked the padlock shut and turned around, only to freeze.
wonbin was standing at the end of the hall, hands stuffed into his pockets. he had been waiting for you.
"yn," he said, stepping forward. without his friends around, he looked less confident, but his voice still carried that annoying edge. "we need to talk."
"we have nothing to talk about, wonbin," you replied coldly before trying to walk past him.
wonbin stepped into your path, blocking the exit. "come on, stop playing games. i saw how sunghoon was looking at you during class today. and then the nerd dragged you out like he owned you. are you really going to keep up this pathetic act?"
"it's not an act," you snapped through gritted teeth, temper flaring.
"please," he scoffed, letting out a condescending laugh. "we both know you're just using him to get back at me. yang jungwon? the guy doesn't even know how to hold a conversation unless it's about studies. he's completely dry, yn. a girl like you is going to get bored of a robot like him in a week. he doesn't actually care about you. he probably doesn't even know how to care about someone."
the words stung, mostly because a small, insecure part of your brain feared he was right. you opened your mouth to yell at him, but a heavy step echoed from the stairwell.
"i know exactly how to care for what's mine," a voice cut through the tension.
you turned your head. jungwon walked out of the shadows of the stairwell. his blazer was unbuttoned, making him look surprisingly imposing. his face was completely devoid of its usual smirk. his eyes were pure, dark ice.
wonbin narrowed his eyes. "oh, look. the bodyguard arrived."
jungwon didn't even acknowledge wonbin's sarcasm. he walked straight past him, stopping right in front of you. before you could say a word, jungwon reached out. his hand slid firmly around your waist, strong fingers gripping your hip and pulling you flush against his side.
your breath caught completely in your throat. you were pressed so close to him you could feel the thud of his heartbeat. his touch was heavy and warm.
"i told you before, wonbin. my time is completely clear for her," jungwon repeated, voice dangerously low and quiet in the empty hallway. "that means i don't appreciate you cornering my girlfriend in empty halls. and i definitely don't appreciate a guy who couldn't even keep her loyalty trying to lecture me on how to treat her."
wonbin's jaw clenched, fists tightening in his pockets. he looked at jungwon's hand securely wrapped around your waist, then at how closely you were leaning to jungwon's chest. the dominance coming off jungwon was something wonbin clearly hadn't calculated.
"whatever," he backed down as his pride took another massive hit. "have fun with your charity case, yn." he turned on his heel and stormed out the back doors, slamming them behind him.
but jungwon didn't let you go.
his hand stayed firmly on your waist, keeping you anchored against him. you slowly lifted your head, eyes meeting his. his dark eyes were wide, his breathing a little shallow.
"jungwon..." you whispered, heart hammering wildly against your chest. "wonbin's gone. you can let go now."
jungwon stared down at your lips, then back up to your eyes. his fingers twitched against your waist, tightening just the littlest bit instead of releasing you. for a terrifying, beautiful second, it looked like he was going to lean down.
then, he blinked, as if suddenly waking up from a trance. he abruptly pulled his hand back, stepping half a foot away from you. he ran a hand through his hair, looking flustered for the first time since you met him.
"right," he muttered, voice slightly strained as he stared at the floor. "i'll walk you to the bus stop."
as you walked beside him in silence, you realized with absolute certainty that rule number one—no real feelings—was dead. and the scariest part?
you think jungwon knew it too.
the atmosphere in the academic clubroom the next afternoon was heavy with awkwardness. after the hallway incident yesterday, neither of you had quite figured out how to look each other in the eye.
"okay," you clapped your hands together to break the ice and setting your digital camera on the main table. "if we want to save the club's digital footprint, we need content. and since you're the club president, you will be the model."
jungwon, who had been neatly stacking books, froze. he looked at you with widened eyes. "model? yn, i am an academic competitor. i don't 'model.'"
"you do now," you smirked, pulling out a chair. "sit down. prop an open textbook in front of you and... i don't know, pretend you're reading. but look casual. don't grip the pen too tight."
jungwon let out a defeated sigh that puffed out his cheeks, but he followed your instructions anyway. he saw down, opened a thick calculus book, and gripped his pencil.
but the moment you raised the camera to your eye and looked through the viewfinder, his entire body locked up. his shoulders went completely rigid, his jaw clenched so tightly a small muscle feathered in his cheek, and he stared down at the pages like he was trying to burn a hole through the paper.
you lowered the camera, giggling. "jungwon, you look like you're under interrogation. relax your shoulders. look up at me."
he lifted his gaze. "i am relaxed. this is my studying posture."
"you look like a statue," you teased, stepping closer to the table. you leaned down slightly, the scent of his laundry soap drifting over you. "come on, yang jungwon. where's that smirk you always give me when you're quoting the contract or correcting my data? give me a little bit of that."
and for a second, his exterior completely cracked. a sudden, genuine laugh broke through his stiff expression, eyes crinkling tightly at the corners and that unmistakable dimple showing on his right cheek.
click.
"perfect!" you cheered, pulling the camera back to quickly check the screen. "see? look how good you look when you actually smile."
curiosity getting the better of him, jungwon stood up and walked around the table to stand right beside you. he leaned in close to peer at the tiny screen, his shoulder pressing firmly against yours. you could feel the heat radiating off his uniform blazer, the distance making your breath hitch.
"i look... strange," he murmured, voice low and vibrating right next to your ear.
but when you looked at him. he wasn't looking at the camera screen anymore. he was looking down at your profile, sharp eyes tracing the line of your jaw, completely focused. you swallowed, "you don't look strange. you look handsome, jungwon. the school's going to love it."
he cleared his throat, stepping back just a bit, though his eyes remained fixed on you. "if you say so. send me the drafts tonight. we need to approve the text before publishing."
"actually," you turned to face him and tapped the chair next to you. "sit. we'll filter them together right now. it saves us time."
jungwon hesitated for a split second before sitting on the chair so close that your knees occasionally brushed under the table. for the next thirty minutes, the fake relationship and the school drama completely faded into the background.
"no, we can't use that harsh white lighting," you argued, tilting the screen toward him. "it looks cold. we need a warm tone. it makes the club look cozy, like a place people actually want to spend their afternoons."
as you adjusted the settings to the picture, jungwon stayed quiet. unbeknownst to you, he was watching you rather than the camera. his head was tilted slightly, a soft expression settling over his face.
"see," you pointed at the results. "it looks comfortable somehow."
you turned your head only to find his eyes already locked on you. your fingers froze on the camera buttons. there was no audience here. wonbin wasn't hiding in the hallway, and there were no rumors to protect in an empty clubroom. but the way he was looking at you felt entirely unscripted.
he blinked furiously. "it's getting late. we should head out before the janitor locks the building."
"uh... yeah," you broke eye contact, glancing everywhere but him. and as you packed your camera into your bag, your hands were shaking just a little.
when you walked together out of the front doors, the sky had already turned a pretty shade of orange, the evening air cool against your skin after spending time in the warm room.
neither of spoke for the first few minutes, just walking side-by-side toward the main gates. but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. your shoulders occasionally brushed as you walked, and every time they did, a tiny spark of electricity seemed to bounce between you.
"the photos really turned out well," jungwon broke the silence as you both turned onto the sidewalk leading to the bus stop. "you're smart with that stuff."
"thanks," you smiled, glancing at him. "i just know what people like to see. i'll edit the best ones when i get home and type up some caption ideas."
"sounds good," he nodded, stopping as you both finally reached the bus stop shelter. "but don't send them to me via text. the quality drops too much."
you tilted your head. "then how should i show you?"
jungwon gulped, eyes briefly darting away to look at the street before meeting your gaze again. "just... video call me. facetime. that way you can share your screen and show me the edits in real-time."
you bit your lip to hid a grin. "okay. what time? you have that ten p.m. rule, remember?"
"let's do ten-thirty," jungwon said smoothly with a playful glint in his eyes. "i'll give us an official extension for club business. don't be late."
"i won't," you laughed.
right on cue, the loud hiss of brakes signaled the arrival of your bus. the large vehicle pulled up to the curb, its door sliding open with a heavy rattle. you gripped the strap of your backpack, suddenly feeling reluctant to leave. "well, that's my bus. i'll see you on screen at ten-thirty, jungwon."
"yeah," he muttered. "get home safely, yn."
you gave him one final wave, stepped onto the bus, and scanned your transit card. as the bus pulled away from the curb, you looked out the window. jungwon was still standing under the shelter, hands by his sides, waiting for your bus to leave.
by the time you arrived home, finished showering, changed into your pajamas, and ate a quick dinner, the clock on your desk read 10:20 p.m. you sat on your bed, propping your laptop on your knees and opening the editing software. the photos from earlier looked even better on the larger screen. jungwon's genuine smile radiated warmth.
you kept glancing at the bottom right corner of your screen, watching the minutes tick by.
10:27.
10:28.
10:29.
the exact second the clock flipped to 10:30 p.m., your phone began to buzz loudly against your comforter. the screen lit up with an upcoming video call from jungwon.
a nervous flutter erupted in your stomach. you quickly shook out your hair, took a deep breath, and pressed the green button to answer.
the screen stabilized, and your breath caught in your throat. jungwon was sitting cross-legged on his bed, leaning back against a pile of neat gray pillows. he looked entirely different from his daytime self. he was in a plain, fitted back tank top that made his shoulders look broad.
but the thing that made your heart skip a massive beat was his face—he was wearing a pair of round, thick-rimmed glasses that you had never seen before.
he looked devastatingly attractive.
"hey," he said. his voice sounded deeper and a little sleepy through the phone speaker. "let's just go straight to the photos."
for the next forty-five minutes, you worked together, but it felt cozy. you walked him through the aesthetic choices, zooming in on the warm, golden filters you had applied to the photos. and after a while, you finally wrote the perfect caption.
[STUDENT MEDIA EXCLUSIVE] Big things are happening! The Academic Club is hosting an Open House next Thursday after school in the Academic Clubroom. You won't want to miss what our Club President, Yang Jungwon, had in store. See you there! (Spoiler Alert : There will be snacks!)
"it's actually not that bad," he tilted his head.
"see? i told you to trust me," you teased before turning off the screen share. you rested your chin on your hand and stared at him on your screen. "i know what i'm doing."
the line went quiet for a moment. you could hear the faint sound of your air conditioner humming. you couldn't stop looking at his glasses. "you look different with those glasses," you pointed out. "i didn't know you needed them."
he tapped the side of his glasses. "i only wear them at night when my eyes are tired from reading. do they... look weird?"
"no," you whispered honestly. "they look really good on you, jungwon. you look soft."
through the screen, you could see the tips of his ears turn red. he looked away from the camera for a second. when he looked back at you, his eyes were gentle. "thank you."
he glanced at the clock on his wall, "it's eleven-fifteen. you should sleep. we have classes tomorrow, anyway."
and the next morning, the school was quiet as you walked through the main doors. it was still early, so the hallways weren't packed yet. only a few students were standing by their lockers, talking low voices. your shoes made soft tapping sounds as you walked toward the locker area.
you turned the corner and spotted a familiar figure standing there. he was already dressed perfectly in his uniform, school bag hanging neatly.
but as you got closer, you stopped in your tracks. your eyes widened.
jungwon had turned his head to look at you, and your jaw nearly dropped. he looked normal with his school uniform, but resting on the bridge of his nose were the exact same glasses he had worn on the video call last night.
in the bright, morning sunlight streaming through the windows, he looked breathtaking. the glasses softened his sharp features, making him look less like the untouchable top student and more like... a boy you could actually reach.
"jungwon?" you blinked, staring up at his face. "you're wearing your glasses. i thought you only wore them at night in your room."
jungwon's eyes darted around the hallway for a split second, a sudden hint of shyness passing over his face. he lifted his hand and adjusted the thick frames with his index finger, a faint pink blush creeping up his neck and dusting the tips of his ears.
"well, i did read this morning," he mumbles, his voice still a little scratchy. he looked down at you, dark eyes staring into your behind the lenses. "and... someone told me last night that they looked good. i decided to test the theory in daylight."
your heart did a joyful backflip. he had actually worn them to school just because you liked them.
before you could even think of a response, the heavy sound of footsteps echoed from the stairs. a group of people were walking down, laughing loudly and talking to each other.
suddenly, jungwon stepped to you. he didn't hesitate or look back. he closed the distance between your bodies, blocking the view of your face.
then he reached out. his hand rose slowly, his long, warm fingers gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. his touch didn't pull away immediately. instead, his knuckled lingered against the soft skin of your cheek, brushing against it with a tender warmth. he leaned down, bringing his face so close to yours that you could see the tiny reflection of yourself in his lenses.
"morning, pretty," he murmured. his voice was just loud enough for the passing students to hear, making sure everyone knew exactly who you belonged to. but his eyes were completely focused on you. "did you sleep well?"
you were so flustered, he had never used a pet name before. "y-yeah," you managed to whisper, your hands tightly gripping the straps of your backpack. "i slept well. did you?"
jungwon's eyes softened, and a knowing smirk touched the corner of his lips. he clearly enjoyed how shy you had become under his touch. "i did," he whispered back, his thumb giving your cheek one last gentle pat before he finally pulled his hand away. he didn't step back, though. he stayed standing right next to you, free hand nearly touching yours as he reached out to close his locker.
at lunchtime, your phone nearly melted in your blazer due to the stream of notifications you received. the caption you and jungwon finalized the night before, along with that gorgeous photo of him smiling had gone completely viral across the school.
as you walked down the hallway to head to the cafeteria, you didn't even need to look at your screen to know it was a hit. the chatter was everywhere.
"did you see the post about the academic club? since when is jungwon that handsome?" a sophomore girl squealed to her friend by the water fountain.
"look at his smile in that picture. the lighting makes him look like an idol," another student whispered, holding up her phone. "i'm definitely going to that open house just to see him."
you bit your lip, a proud smile tucking at your lips. your vision for the club page had worked perfectly.
when you walked into the cafeteria, you spotted jungwon sitting at his usual table. he looked totally overwhelmed, shoulders tense as he stared down at his phone with a look of disbelief. every few seconds, a a girl walking past his table would look over, giggle, or wave. jungwon would give them a stiff nod before looking back down at his screen.
the second you slid into the plastic seat across him, he looked up. his eyes screamed for help.
"yn," he sighed heavily. "my phone has been ringing since first period. the club's follower count increased by four hundred percent in less than twelve hours. what exactly did you do to that photo?"
"i didn't do anything crazy," you laughed, picking up your spoons. "i just told you the truth. i know how to make things look good. people love seeing a softer side of the scary top student. look at the comments!"
jungwon looked down at his screen again, thumb scrolling through the comments sections. "someone commented that they are skipping dance practice next thursday to attend our open house."
"see! everyone loves it. it's hype," you teased. then, your eyes drifted past his shoulder. "and speaking of hype... look behind you."
jungwon turned his head slightly. across the cafeteria, sitting at the big center table, was wonbin. he was surrounded by his circle, but he wasn't eating. he was staring directly at his phone with a furious expression, jaw clenched tightly. sunghoon was next to him, teasing him abouy how much attention your "nerd boyfriend" was getting.
wonbin looked up, his angry eyes moving to you and jungwon sitting together.
jungwon didn't flinch. he turned back around to face you, the lenses of his glasses catching the bright light. a smile spread across his face.
"your marketing logic is flawless, partner," he praised. he leaned forward a bit, eyes twinkling. "you completely ruined him without saying a single word to him. i have to admit, it's great work."
"hey, we're a team," you smiled, your heart fluttering at the word partner. "we're just getting started."
jungwon let out a quiet laugh, but then he paused. he looked down at his phones, scrolling through the comments again, and a sudden look of realization crossed his face. he tapped his fingers against the plastic table, clearly thinking about something.
"right, so... we might have a bit of a problem for next thursday," he said, looking at you.
"a problem?" you raised your eyebrows, pausing with your food. "what's wrong?"
"based on the likes and comments on the post, a ton of people are actually planning to show up to our open house," he explained. he rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "the club's current snack supply is only three tea bags and a half-empty box of crackers. we don't have anything to give them."
you let out a rather loud laugh. "so the genius president remembers everything but the snacks?"
"well, i didn't expect so many people to care," jungwon defended himself quickly. his voice then dropped to a whisper. "i really need your help. if i go alone, i'll probably just buy plain crackers and bottled water. i have no idea what kind of snacks people actually want. will you come to the supermarket with me after school?"
a grocery store run. it sounded so sweet and domestic—like something a real boyfriend and girlfriend would do together on a random afternoon.
"an official snack mission?" you cocked an eyebrow.
he smiled at you, the dimple yet again showing on his cheek as he nodded. "exactly. i'll wait for you by the lockers later."
true to his word, jungwon was waiting by your locker after school, already there after you exited your classroom. he had his school slung over a shoulder, his uniform unbuttoned, and those glasses were still resting perfectly on his nose. "ready?" he questioned, a welcoming smile lighting up his face the second he saw you walking up. "ready," you grinned back.
when you stepped through the automatic glass doors of the supermarket, the cool, air-conditioned air hit your face. jungwon walked over to the neatly lined rows of shopping carts. he pulled one out and pushed it over to you, gripping the plastic handle with both hands.
"alright, guide me," he said, glancing around at the brightly lit aisles. "where do we start?"
"we need sweet things and salty things," you mentioned, taking the lead and walking toward the snack aisle. "since it's an event after school, people will be hungry after classes."
as you reached the chip area, he stopped and stared at the massive wall of colorful bags, looking completely lost. he tilted his head with a small frown. "there are too many options," he muttered, reaching out to pick up a bag of unsalted potato chips. "how about these?"
"no way," you chuckled, gently taking the bag out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf. "nobody wants plain chips. we need the spicy ones and the sour cream and onion ones."
you grabbed three large bags of the popular spicy chips and dropped them into the cart. "this is exactly why i brought you," he murmured. "left to my own devices, people would have hated me."
"they wouldn't hate you. they'd just think you're some kind of robot," you teased.
"ouch," he laughed quietly, playing along by placing a hand on his chest.
as you moved over to another aisle, you spotted a specific brand of chocolate-covered strawberries in the refrigerator—your favorite treat. you lingered in front of the glass door for a second, staring at them, but decided not to grab them since they weren't exactly "club snacks."
you turned back around to help jungwon choose some juice boxes and soda cans. jungwon was focused, carefully checking the prices and quantities, making sure there would be enough. it was cute seeing how seriously he took his role as president, even when it came to buying juice.
while you were busy comparing the orange juice brands, jungwon quietly stepped aside for a brief moment. you didn't think much of it until he walked back, pushing the cart with a straight face.
you looked down into the cart and nearly gasped. right on top of the soda boxes was the exact container of chocolate-covered strawberries you had been looking at earlier.
"jungwon?" you looked at him, heart doing a flutter. "what is this?"
jungwon bit the inside of his cheek, eyes darting to the side before locking back with yours. a red tint crept up his cheeks, contrasting beautifully with his dark hair. "i noticed you looking at them," he answered softly, voice a gentle register. he adjusted his glasses, looking a little shy but sincere. "consider it an extra payment for your excellent marketing services. and... because you worked hard. you deserve it."
you stared at him, speechless. here, there was nothing and no one for him to perform for. he had bought them simply because he saw you wanted them.
"thank you," you whispered, a massive smile spreading across your face.
"don't mention it," he murmured, the corners of his lips tucking up into a sweet smile. "let's go pay."
after paying for the massive bags of chips, juice boxes, soda cans, and your favorite chocolate strawberries, you and jungwon walked back to the school. it was completely quiet now, the hallways empty and peaceful in the dim evening light.
you both entered the academic clubroom and dumped the heavy plastic bags onto the main wooden table.
"wow," you sighed, stretching your arms out as you sat down on a chair. "that was a workout. at least we won't starve next thursday."
"indeed. the inventory is now full," jungwon grinned. he began organizing the juice boxes into a straight line on the shelf, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose.
watching him look so focused, you couldn't help but think about how much things had changed. you leaned your chin on your hand, staring at him. "you know, jungwon... you're actually being really nice about all of this. aren't you tired of dealing with my school drama?"
jungwon paused, a juice box still in hand. he turned to face you, leaning his hip against the shelf. "it's part of our arrangement," he replied. "the deal is to maintain the image of a couple to hurt wonbin's ego."
"i know," you murmured, playing with the edge of your blazer. "but we've only really been seen together at school. do you think people actually believe it? wonbin looks mad, sure. but i feel like he's waiting for us to slip up."
jungwon walked over to the table and sat on the chair right next to yours. he leaned a little closer. "i've been thinking about that too, actually," he admitted. "if we only hang out before classes and in the cafeteria, it looks a bit too convenient. real couples don't just exist inside the school. they also do things on the weekends."
you tilted your head, confusion washing over your expression. "what do you mean?"
"i mean we should take this outside of school," he shrugged, looking straight into your eyes. "we should go on a fake date this saturday. like the street festival downtown. we can take some photos together, post them on your personal feed, and give the people undeniable proof."
your stomach flipped. a date? even if it's fake?
"a weekend date?" you repeated. "just for the photos?"
"for visual evidence," jungwon nodded easily, though you noticed his ears turning a little red. "it'll completely solidify the narrative. it's the most logical next step for the contract."
you smiled, seeing right through his logic-talk. he was just as nervous as you were. "alright, president. if it's for the contract, i guess i can clear my saturday schedule for you."
and that saturday afternoon, the sun was bright when you met jungwon outside the train station. the plan for the day was simple, written down neatly in your shared document. since the open house was only a few days away, you needed a few casual but cute photos of the two of you out on a date to keep the rumors alive.
you were adjusting the strap of your digital camera when you heard footsteps.
"am i late?"
you looked up, and your heart did that familiar thud. jungwon was standing there, wearing a light gray knit sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, dark jeans, and clean white sneakers. and of course, not forgetting the glasses.
"right on time," you smiled, tucking your camera into your bag. "you look good today, president."
jungwon's eyes crinkled as a small smirk touched his lips. "you don't look too bad yourself, partner. let's go. the street festival is just two blocks away."
the festival was packed with people and filled with the smell of fried food, loud music, and colorful booths. for the first hour, you focused on the mission. you took photos of jungwon holding a snack, and he took photos of you smiling by a flower stall.
"we have enough options," jungwon said, leaning over your shoulder to look at the camera screen. "sure, but we need one together! come closer," you suggested, turning the camera toward both of your faces.
just as you were about to click the button, a loud voice cut through the crowd.
"wait, yn? jungwon?"
you both froze and turned around. standing there with a cup of iced tea was wonhee, a girl from your homeroom class who loved school gossip. perfect. her eyes were wide with excitement as she looked at the two of you. "oh my gosh, it is you guys! so you guys are actually dating?"
your breath hitched. but before you could panic further, jungwon moved. he didn't hesitate for a single second. he slid his arm around your waist, pulling you so your bodies were flushed together. his hand rested on your hip. "hey, wonhee," he greeted. he then glanced down at you with a gaze so sweet it made your brain short-circuit. "yeah, we wanted to spend some time together away from school today."
wonhee squealed. "wow, jungwon, ive never seen you look at anyone like that. you guys look so cute together!"
"thank you," you said, playing along. you leaned into his chest, resting your head on his sweater right over his heart. you could hear it beating fast against your ear. "we're just having a fun day."
"i won't ruin your date, promise. see you on monday!" she giggled, waving as she disappeared back into the crowd.
the second she was gone, jungwon's hand stayed on your waist for a long beat, thumb brushing against your side. when he finally stepped back, his neck was red. "that was a close call," he looked anywhere but at your face. "good acting."
"yeah," you mumbled, skin still tingling where his hand had been. "you too."
after that, your camera stayed in your bag. the "acting" had felt a little too real, and the rest of the afternoon, you both forgot about the deal entirely.
you dragged him over to a shooting gallery booth, where an adorable plush cat was hanging. "watch and learn, mr. president," you teased, confidently paying the booth vendor and lifting the plastic toy rifle. you took careful aim at the small targets, fired three times, and missed every single shot.
jungwon let out a quiet chuckle, leaning his shoulder against the booth frame as he watched you pout. "is that the social media committee technique? aiming for the wall?"
"i just wasn't focused!" you defended, face burning as you handed him the toy gun. "let's see you do it."
"easy. it's just basic trajectory," he confidently replied, a smirk playing on his lips. he adjusted his glasses, stepped up to the counter, and lifted the rifle. his posture became straight, eyes locking onto the targets with focus.
pop. pop. pop.
three shots, three perfect hits.
the vendor let out a whistle, along with an applause, and handed over the plush cat. jungwon took it with a triumphant grin, dimple popping up as he immediately tucked the plush under your arm.
"trajectory," he whispered playfully, leaning down close to your ear so only you could hear him. "you're welcome."
you hugged the fluffy cat to your chest, heart doing a foolish little flip. after that, you ate cotton candy together, laughing until your stomachs hurt when a gust of wind blew a piece of pink sugar right onto the tip of jungwon's nose.
you truly had the best time.
around five o'clock, the sky suddenly turned dark. within minutes, rain started pouring down. "shit!" you gasped, covering your head.
jungwon grabbed your wrist, his grip firm, and pulled you along as he ran toward a narrow alleyway between two brick buildings. it was a tiny, sheltered space under a concrete roof, just big enough to shield you both.
"too close," jungwon panted as you both burst into the small space. he took off his glasses, which were covered in raindrops, and used his sweater to wipe them clean.
when he put them back on and looked up, you realized just how small the space actually was. because of the pouring rain, jungwon had to be in your personal space. he was standing less than two inches away from you. you could feel the warmth of his breath and the scent of his cologne.
the world shrank down to just the two of you in the dim light.
"yn," he called. "yeah?" you murmured, heart beating so loudly you were sure he could hear it.
jungwon's eyes shifted down to you lips for a split second before returning to your eyes. his jaw clenched, as if he were fighting every single instinct to keep his distance. "it doesn't look like the rain's gonna stop any time soon."
you looked straight into his eyes. "i don't mind waiting here with you."
an unreadable look passed over jungwon's face. he leaned in as he looked out at the sheets of water splashing against the pavement, then scanned your face. "today... when wonhee saw us," he started. "i told her we wanted to spend time together away from school."
you nodded slowly, "yeah. it was a good excuse."
"it wasn't an excuse," he blurted before he could overthink it. "i really did want to. the contract just gave me a reason to ask."
your heart stopped for a beat. you stared up at him, trying to read the expression he had on. you swallowed nervously. "jungwon, are you saying...?"
"i enjoyed today," he interrupted softly. he tucked his hands into his jeans pockets, looking down at the space between your shoes to avoid eye contact. "more than i expected to. i usually find crowds a little stressful. but today, i didn't care about the crowd at all."
he didn't explicitly say 'i like being with you,' but the quiet confession hung in the air, heavier than the storm.
"i enjoyed it too," you offered a small smile. "especially the parts where we weren't taking photos."
jungwon gazed back up at you. the cold academic club president you knew was gone. slowly and hesitantly, he took a hand out of his pocket. his fingers hovered in the small space between you.
he didn't grab your hand this time. instead, his hand drifted closer until his pinky fingers gently brushed against yours.
you didn't pull away.
feeling your permission, jungwon slowly hooked his pinky around yours. his skin was warm and slightly trembling, his finger tightening just enough to lock yours in place. it was such a small touch, but it felt louder than any other public display of affection.
"then let's not think about the photos next time," he muttered. you smiled, blushing hard, making him giggle lightly at your face.
later that night, your phone vibrated against your mattress. you reached for it and your breath caught when you saw jungwon text you.
you unlocked the phone to see the text. he had sent an image file.
you tapped it, and a photo filled your screen. it was a candid picture he had taken of you when you were standing by the flower stall. you hadn't even realized he clicked the shutter at that exact moment. you were looking sideways, laughing at something he had said, with the sunlight hitting your hair perfectly. it looked soft, warm, and happy.
[jungwon] :
I was looking through the pictures.
I thought you should have this one.
a huge smile now plastered on your lips as you quickly began typing a reply.
[you] :
i didn't know you took this lol
the lighting is rly pretty
you watched the little typing bubbles appear almost instantly. your heart beat a little faster as you waited for his response.
[jungwon] :
You look prettier.
and ever since that text message and the date at the festival, something shifted between you and jungwon. the invisible wall of the "contract" had completely melted away, replaced by a rhythm that neither of you felt the need to question.
one morning, the school's central heater was acting up, leaving the building freezing. you were standing by your classroom door, shivering slightly as you talked to a classmate. when jungwon walked past on his way to the bathroom.
without breaking his stride or even pausing his conversation with a friend walking next to him, he casually unzipped his thick jacket, slipped it off, and draped it over your shoulders as he brushed past you. it was so smooth, leaving you wrapped in his warm, oversized jacket that smelled faintly of his cologne while your classmate stared in shock.
that effortless closeness had also taken over the smallest things.
one time, jungwon walked into your classroom to drop off a flyer for the open house and found you slumped over at your desk, completely exhausted from studying for a history quiz.
he walked straight over. when you saw him and started groaning and complaining about the hard questions, he didn't say a word. instead, he reached down, long fingers gently combing through your messy hair, parting stray strands neatly away from your eyes. his thumb gave your forehead a tiny brush before he took his hand away.
even your mornings at the lockers had changed. there was a time when you walked right up to him while he was organizing his textbook. you took your hands and straightened the fabric of his collar before moving it up to tap the bridge of his glasses, pushing them up his nose where they belonged.
jungwon didn't flinch or look around to see who was watching. he only looked down at you, eyes soft and let out a happy hum.
and in the blink of an eye, thursday afternoon arrived with a chaotic rush. the post had worked entirely too well. by two o'clock, only half an hour after the last bell, the academic clubroom was packed to the brim with over fifty students. the room buzzed with sounds of chatter, laughter, and the constant crinkling of chip bags.
behind the main table, you and jungwon were moving like a single, well-oiled machine. you were frantically offering juice or soda to students while jungwon tidied the snacks.
even in the middle of the sweaty rush, the comfortable vibe you had built over the weeks didn't falter. every few minutes, jungwon would catch a quick glance down at you, silently making sure you weren't feeling overwhelmed by the crowd.
"you're doing great, pretty," he murmured quickly without the intention of saying the pet name, fingers lightly brushing against your wrist in a reassuring squeeze.
your heart did a flutter at the pet name, but you kept your cool. "we're a team, remember?" you smiled back, catching your breath as you handed a juice box to a waiting sophomore.
for the first hour, the open house was a whirlwind of activity. jungwon took the center of the room, confidently explaining the club's upcoming math and science curriculum, voice clear and steady despite the massive crowd.
he looked every bit the capable president, but whenever he made a point, his eyes would instinctively find yours across the room, tracking your reaction. you stayed busy running the snack bar and managing the sign-up sheet, watching with a proud grin as more than ten students wrote their names down to join.
but halfway through, the loud chatter near the doorway suddenly died down slightly. you looked up, and your stomach dropped. wonbin had just walked in, sharp eyes instantly stuck onto you.
a few minutes later, while jungwon was pulled away to a corner by a group of students asking about the registration deadlines, wonbin saw his chance. he strode through the crowd and cornered you with a mocking smirk. "so, you actually managed to pull off a crowd," he tilted his head, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.
you tightened your grip on the edge of the table. "move away, wonbin. i'm busy."
"i'm just saying, it's pathetic," he spat, voice dripping with venom. "i'm sure jungwon's just doing his duty as president. the second this open house is done, you guys are done. he's nothing compared to me, yn. you're nothing to him."
before you could fire back, jungwon appeared out of nowhere.
he didn't say a word as he stepped directly between you and wonbin, broad shoulders shielding you from view. the movement was so sudden that wonbin took a step back, smirk faltering. "i think you need to leave." his voice was loud enough that the room fell quiet.
wonbin scoffed, trying to play it cool as he eyed the staring crowd. "relax, dude. i was just talking to—"
"i couldn't care less about what you were doing," he interrupted immediately. the protective instinct radiating off him was palpable. "you're making my girlfriend uncomfortable. and since this is my clubroom, i am telling you to get out."
the word girlfriend rolled off jungwon's tongue so naturally that the students watching started mumbling. wonbin's face turned a humiliated shade of red. realizing he was outnumbered and stripped of any power he thought he had over you, he glared at jungwon one last time before storming out of the room.
the second the heavy door slammed shut, the crowd started whispering loudly. but jungwon didn't care.
he turned around to face you in an instant. his hands reached out, holding your upper arms as his eyes searched your face with concern. "are you okay?" he whispered, his tone of voice completely different from the tone he had just seconds ago. "did he hurt you? what'd he say to you?"
"i'm okay," you breathed, heart thumping from the intensity of the moment. "thank you, won."
by 4 o'clock, the event had finally cleared out. the open house was a success, and the clubroom was dead quiet once again, bathed in the orange shadows of the setting sun. you were slowly wiping down the tables while jungwon stacked the chairs against the wall.
you swallowed a lump in your throat, a crashing wave of sadness washing over you as you forced yourself to say the words you knew you had to say. "so... i guess that means the contract is fulfilled. the fake relationship is done. we don't have to pretend anymore."
jungwon's jaw clenched slightly. he looked down at his hands, his fingers tightening against a chair until knuckles turned white.
inside his chest, his heart was screaming at him to reject the idea. he want to tell you that he didn't want it to end. he wanted to tell you that the way his heart raced when he held your hand at the festival and the way he felt when your pinkies locked in the rain were the most real things he had ever experienced.
but as he looked back up at you, his guarded defense mechanisms kicked right back in. he became terrified of rejection, terrified that you truly only saw this as a contract to solve your ex-boyfriend problem.
"right," he forced a smile onto his face. "the contract is done. we achieved the desired outcome with maximum efficiency."
your heart squeezed painfully at his logical words. so it really was just a contract to him. a math problem he solved.
"mhm. efficient to the end," you choked out, forcing a fake smile as you reached down to grab your bag. "i should probably get going then. see you around, jungwon." you turned around and took two steps toward the door.
"yn, wait."
you stopped in your tracks and turned back to look at him, heart skipping a beat as hope bloomed in your chest. jungwon had stepped away from the chairs, taking a few paces to you. his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. he looked like he was on the edge of throwing away all his logic and telling you exactly how much he needed you.
but then, he froze. his throat bobbed as he swallowed his words, shoulder dropping as his shyness won the battle inside his head.
"never mind," he mumbled gently, a slightly sad smile touching his lips. "thanks for today. and for everything else."
your chest pulled tight at the heavy, unspoken emotion hanging in the air. "thank you, jungwon."
the transition back to your normal life should have been easy.
the contract had achieved a prefect, one hundred percent success rate. wonbin wouldn't even look in your direction when you passed him in the hallways and you heard jungwon's appeal finally got accepted. jungwon got reached his goal, and you had your peace back.
but you realized you didn't care about the peace at all.
you were sitting at your desk during recess, staring blankly at your notebook. last week, this exact time of day was when jungwon walked into your classroom to drop off a flyer and gently brushes the messy hair out of your eyes.
the classroom door opened, and your head snapped up. but it wasn't him. it was just a group of students laughing at they walked in.
a heavy ache settled deep in your chest. you slumped against your desk, burying your face in your arms. it was ridiculous. you didn't care about wonbin anymore. the only thing consuming your thoughts and your entire heart was a quiet boy with thick-framed glasses and a dimpled smile.
across the building, the library was quiet. jungwon sat as his usual desk, surrounded by calculus books and a glowing laptop screen. the exams were only a few weeks away, and normally, this was where jungwon was most efficient.
but today, his brain was offline.
he stared at the same problem for twenty minutes, the numbers blurring together on the page. his right hand was resting on the table. every time he looked at it, he was dragged back to that alleyway in the pouring rain.
he let out a frustrated sigh, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"the contract is done. we achieved the desired outcome with maximum efficiency."
he wanted to punch himself for saying those words. he had let his stupid shyness build a wall between you right when he should have torn it down. he wanted anything but for you to leave.
he pulled out his phone and opened your chat, positioning his thumbs over the keyboard.
Are you busy after school today?
The clubroom needs some organizing.
he stared at the draft. it was a lie. the clubroom was perfectly clean. he just wanted a reason, any reason to see you, to hear your laugh, and to breathe in the same air as you again.
his thumb hovered over the send button for a long minute. but his throat tightened as the familiar fear crept back in. what if she's glad the contract is over? what if she doesn't want to see me anymore?
with a sigh, jungwon deleted the text, locking his phone and dropping it face-down on the table. he leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as a sense of loneliness washed over him.
and due to the receding sighting of you and jungwon together, a rumor spread faster than a wildfire.
The Academic Club president, Jungwon, and his girlfriend, yn, broke up!
you could hear the whispers trailing behind you all day, but you didn't have the energy to care, you walked out to the courtyard during lunch break, desperately needing a quiet place to breathe away.
"hey, yn."
you stifled a sigh as you saw wonbin walking toward you, a smug grin plastered across his face. "i heard the news," he stopped a few feet away from you. "so, the nerd couldn't keep up with you after all huh? i told you he was just doing his duty as president. the second the open house was over, he dropped you."
you stared at him, realizing how insignificant he truly was compared to the boy who stood up for you last week. "get to the point, wonbin."
he took a step closer, mistaking your exhaustion for sadness. "come on, don't be like that. i'm trying to help you. now that you're single again, i was thinking... maybe we can give it another shot. i'm willing to overlook the little stunt you pulled. you made your point, and i'm ready to take you back."
he reached his hand out, aiming to rest it on your shoulder, fully expecting you to melt right back into his arms.
but before his fingers could touch the fabric of your blazer, you sharply slapped his hand away. the crisp smack echoed in the quiet courtyard. wonbin's grin vanished as his eyes widened. "what the hell, yn?"
"don't touch me," you stepped forward, looking wonbin dead in the eye. "let me make this clear to you, because apparently, your brain can't process such small and simple facts. i didn't pull a stunt. and i am never getting back with you."
"are you serious?" his pride clearly took a massive hit. "you'd rather be miserable over a guy who only cared about his club than be with me?"
"jungwon didn't drop me, park wonbin. and even if he never speaks to me again, i would still choose a single second of his kindness over a lifetime of whatever it was i had with you."
wonbin's face twisted into a hideous expression of shock and humiliation. he opened his mouth to speak, but the fire in your eyes completely choked the words in his throat. "you're crazy," he muttered as he backed away. "you're out of your mind."
"maybe i am," you whispered. "now get out of my fucking sight."
you listened to the heavy, angry sound of his sneakers stomping away across the gravel until the courtyard fell into a beautiful silence.
what you didn't know was that a couple of juniors had been sitting on the nearby benches behind the bushes, eating their lunches. within an hour, word of you declaring that you would choose jungwon over anyone else spread.
when the last bell rang, the talk had reached the entire school. and for jungwon, that was the breaking point.
the wind was breezy as you sat alone at the bus stop just outside the school gates. the street was quiet, most of the students having already cleared out. you stared down at your shoes, heart heavy with a mixture of relief from shedding wonbin, and an ache because of missing jungwon.
your face burned as you remembered your own words from earlier. it was the truth, but a nagging fear in the back of your mind whispered that you might never get the chance to tell him.
suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed. you looked up, breath hitching.
jungwon was running toward the bus stop. his hair was completely windswept, his tie was loosened, and his blazer were unbuttoned. he looked breathless, chest heaving as he skidded to halt in front of you.
"jungwon?" you stood up from the bench. "what's wrong? what are you—?"
not giving you the chance to finish your sentence, jungwon closed the remaining distance between you in a single stride. his ling arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you against his chest.
your let out a soft gasp as your forehead bumped gently against his shoulder. he held you so tightly it almost took your breath away, his fingers digging into the fabric of your blazer as if he were trying to anchor himself to you. you could feel his heartbeat and his warm breath brushing past your ear.
"jungwon...?" you called, hands hovering in the air before tentatively resting on his back.
"i heard what you said," he muttered, voice thick with emotion. he buried his face deeper into your shoulder, grip tightening. "i heard what you told wonbin in the courtyard."
you blinked, heart fluttering. "you did?"
"every word," he mumbled. slowly, he loosened his grip just enough to pull back and look at you, though his hands stayed securely on your waist, refusing to let you step away. "i spent the last week trying to figure out how to live without you. i told myself it was what was best for you because the deal was over."
he let out a self-deprecating laugh, thumb rubbing circles against your side to ground himself.
"but i was wrong. so wrong. it was the worst assumption i've ever made in my life," he confessed. "i couldn't focus on my studies. i couldn't go to the clubroom without missing you. and when i heard what you said today, i realized i was being a coward."
you looked up at him, vision now slightly blurry. "won..."
"i don't want a contract anymore," he stepped even closer until there wasn't a single inch of space left between you. he reached up with one hand, fingers gently cupping your cheek, thumb wiping a tear. "i don't want to fake anything. i want to be your real boyfriend who can hold your hand, fix your hair, and walk you home every single day."
he breathed before adding, "yn, i am completely, hopelessly in love with you."
the confession hung beautifully in the air. a massive smile appeared on your face, heart bursting with happiness so profound it washed every single second of the sadness.
"you are actually terrible at math, jungwon," you laughed softly through your tears. "because it took you a whole week to realize something i've known since that street festival."
his signature dimple popped up as he grinned. "is that a yes?"
"it's a definitive, one hundred percent yes."
jungwon's breath caught in his throat. the last lingering bit of his restraint shattered. he didn't say anything else. his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers gently tangling into your hair to tilt your face up.
deliberately, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.
your eyes fluttered shut as a wave of electricity rushed straight to your core. the kiss was soft at first, hesitant and sweet. but as you stood on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, jungwon let out a hum against your mouth and pulled you impossibly closer, deepening the kiss.
his lips were warm and firm against yours, filled with all the longing and unspoken feeling he had been locking away inside his chest.
the roaring engine of the bus pulled up to the curb, its headlights cutting through the twilight. the doors folded open, but neither of you moved. you were completely wrapped up in his warmth, oblivious to the world around you.
when jungwon finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested gently against yours. he kept his eyes closed for a second, a soft smile spreading across his face, simple cutting deep into his red cheeks. he slid his hand down your arm until his fingers slid between yours, locking his large hand securely with yours. "miss the bus for me?" he questioned. "i want to walk you home."
SYPNOSIS: you run a fan account for another male idol. your boyfriend doesn’t like it but little does he know, you have one just for him.
GENRES/WARNINGS: fluff super mega to the max! established relationship, jaehyun is like super in love with yn it’s crazy, yn is a enhypen fan specifically jake bias (・ω<) yn fc is jiyeon from triples but you can imagine her however you likeee, some jake slander on jaehyuns side but don’t mind it!!!
FEAT. all of bnd, moka from illit, carmen from h2h, haerin from newjeans and leeseo from ive!
enjoy!
NOTE 🗒️: if anyone is on the other side can you hear me am i muted 😅😅 nyc is in shambles with this thunderstorm im irritated i cant load ANYTHING 😡🤬🤬
check out my other works here ➜ livias masterlist!
In which: Bruce Wayne's daughter, Y/N Wayne is a full time party girl. Club hopper, party animal, hedonist. Whatever you want to call it. To full the void her father left, she turns to nightclubs, dingy bars and basement raves.
Chapter twelve. It almost worked.
Fic masterlist!
cw: mentions of addiction, mentions of underage drinking, Reader has bad mental health, suicide ideation- suicidal talk, depressive thoughts, reader is not well mentally, mentions of trauma. - I DO NOT CONDONE OR SUPPORT ANY UNDERAGE DRINKING OR SMOKING, stay safe stay in school
The next week is both the slowest and fastest of your life. Each day starts the same. You don’t wake up alone, there’s always someone in the room. Sometimes it’s Alfred, and you’re able to relax a little, other days it's Bruce, and you find yourself subconsciously acting on your ‘best behaviour’.
You eat breakfast, if it’s an Alfred day you go at your own pace, but when it’s Bruce you make sure to eat quicker, even though he implores you to slow down.
After breakfast, the others come in intermittently throughout the day. Dick comes first and brings some stupid gift in, sometimes it’s a plush toy, other times it’s flowers. The generic kind. A collection of roses and peonies, the kind that fits any occasion. He talks your ear off and you offer small, non committal responses. Too afraid to give your real opinion, in fear that he’ll just get up and leave.
It’s easier to just nod. He seems happy at least. He seems to enjoy fussing, fiddling with the pillows or adjusting whatever he can reach. But then he has to go to work. You don’t take it personally. He ruffles your hair but you can tell he’s holding back, as if he’d rip your head off if he used too much force.
In the hours between Dick’s departure and lunch, you occupy yourself waiting for the phone. No one’s called or texted you yet. You aren’t sure who you’re waiting to hear from, but anything would be nice. At first you blamed the signal, but when you got a spam call from a car insurance scam you threw that idea out.
Jason comes with food around lunch time and you thank your lucky stars he did. The hospital food is bland, it’s like eating cardboard soup. He brings greasy fast food and your mouth waters at the smell. You’ve gotten to know him over the fortnight. Your old apartment, the one before the Manor, was two streets away from his old place. It’s easy to talk to him, because you don't need to dig into any of that deep stuff.
You didn’t want to explain how you got here, and he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to explain how he ‘left’, so you didn’t poke the bear. The conversation isn’t alive, it isn’t a constant back and forth with quips and laughs, it’s just a slow stroll.
Alfred and Bruce would scold him for bringing food in, saying that your body needed real food, not just slop, and he’d bat them off. You wished you were confident enough to stand against Bruce. Instead, you’d just look at the floor while they talked.
The book Tim bought from home for you became a topic of conversation. You quickly realised how seriously Jason took it, whereas you just liked having something else to talk about. You weren’t the most ‘literary’ person, but you didn’t mind. Eventually you worked up the courage to make a joke. You called him a ‘real nerd’ and he gave you a non patronising laugh and jab back.
It was nice to be treated like a person and not a time-bomb.
Tim and Damian always arrive at the same time. Just after four. The older had left work early and the younger had come straight from school. Tim couldn’t sit still, so you’d take a walk around the ward whenever he came.
On the first visit he bought some clothes from home, a welcome change from the thin hospital gown. Walking around the ward in bedazzled sweatpants, spelling ‘juicy’ on the rear wasn’t the most appropriate, but it felt like heaven compared to the previous outfit. The ward wasn’t loud or quiet, but rather a constant lull.
You’d ask how work was and he’d ramble while you walked.
Damian keeps sitting on the blue chair on the left side of the bed, and if anyone tries to take his spot he just walks behind them and tips them out of the chair, with a ‘tt’. The first time he did it, you laughed out of surprise. It was a welcome change from the droning beeping of the machines. It felt a little like normal, whatever normal was.
On the second day, you were able to get him alone for a couple of minutes. When Bruce had left to use the Men’s room, you asked Alfred if he could ask the nurse for a new blanket. Tim had left to get a snack from the vending machine. When you finally had the room cleared out, you addressed the elephant in the room.
“Damian, I’m, I’m really sorry for the other night. I wasn’t really thinking- and I know that isn’t an excuse at all and what I did was really fucked up, I should never have hurt you and I’m really sorry.” It was a generic apology because you couldn’t remember all of the details. You remember a fight but that’s about it. Although you couldn't recall the entire ordeal, the spectre of guilt clung like Mold to the memory.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, but then you heard a small “it’s fine” out of him.
“No, it’s not fine. I was horrible.”
The silence returns, then dissipates.
He shuffles the chair a little closer to the bed, and the front legs batter the edge of the bed. You shuffle to the edge of the bed. Before he has the chance to squirm away, you reach out and pull him in for a hug. Bracing for a struggle, you tighten your grip, but to your surprise he doesn’t thrash or fight against you. Although he doesn’t embrace you back either. His arms stay by his side, like he doesn’t know what to do with them.
In between dealing with the new, strange family dynamics, you were pestered by the Doctors and taken in and out of surgeries. Minor ones, not as bad as the one you needed on intake, but enough to leave you sore. They remind you to pace yourself, but truthfully you want to just speed-run recovery and get out of there.
But the part that keeps you up, the invisible itch you can’t scratch, is the fact that no one’s talking about it. No one’s asking why you were there in the first place. You’re scared of scratching, in fear that you’ll scar yourself.
The phone doesn’t ring all week.
On the first night of the second week, you’re alone. Something about work kept them home. It makes you feel like you’re going mad. The week before last, you’d be begging for a situation like this. One where everyone acknowledges that you aren’t well. That the suffering you kept hidden would finally be seen and fussed over.
Unable to sleep, you opt to take a walk around the ward. Under the fluorescent lights, the tiles underfoot are blindingly bright. It makes you feel nauseous. You’re used to obnoxiously bright lights, the strobe lights you’re normally basking in are way more flashy, but you aren’t used to how clean everything looks.
When you were a kid, the doctors office was a small, shoebox size room, with tatty gray carpet. If you squinted you could see a rainbow of lint ingrained in the carpet. Here, it was so clean you could eat off the floor. The corridors never seemed to end, and there wasn’t a single thing wrong with the place.
It made you feel sick. Small, broken things were comforting. Familiar. This place was so alien. Your feet find their way to the stairs and you keep walking until you find a direction sign. Observatory balcony, toilets, fire exit.
The observatory balcony overlooks Gotham from an untouchable vantage point. That grime and sleaze can’t touch you from up here. God you wish it could. You hate being so clean. Pressing yourself against the railing gives cold comfort, the metal bar freezing against your belly.
You wonder what would happen if you held your arms out. Could you fly? Feel the wind beneath your wings. The breeze below peppers your wind battered face. A kiss, a promise. Freedom. For one moment, just one stolen moment, you could belong to no one, just a piece of litter thrown around in the wind. To become directionless by nature.
No. You know better. Almost reluctantly, you step back. Like a child leaving the birthday party before the cake could be cut. The ground underfoot is cold and harsh. It bites. The tiles look like the ones from the corner store you'd visit as a kid. They should bring sweet nostalgia, but instead it just reminds you how much time has passed. It's been ten years. And you still feel like a little kid. When does that feeling end?
At the end of the week, you’re eager to get out. Back to your room. It’s still not over, all this new family stuff, but at least you can be in your own bed.
On the morning you were set to be discharged, Bruce came into the room, same time as always. But this time, you were awake. Already packing up your bag and dressed for the day. He was relieved to see you with some energy.
He came in with something behind his back. You didn’t see it at the time, but he was holding the leaflet. The one the nurse gave him just after intake. The one for rehab.
While your back was turned to him, you spoke over your shoulder. “As soon as we get back, I need some tea. The earl grey one. The coffee machine tea tastes like rainwater.” He saw the way you angled your body while packing, careful not to put too much weight on the left. Clearly it hurt. You must’ve lied about the pain to get discharged quicker.
His eyes flickered to your open bag and he narrowed his gaze when he spotted the neon orange tube poking out. He’d have to confiscate those once he found out what they were.
For a moment, he wondered if they were actually prescribed, or if you had… no, he couldn’t think like that. You’re a good kid, you wouldn’t steal, would you? Then again, he reminded himself, he doesn’t know you enough to promise himself anything. God, some man he was.
He knew he should’ve said something. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to. It felt like a punishment. It could be talked about at home. Something could be arranged. Without announcing it, he began to help you pack. When you turned to grab something on the bed, you let out a startled yelp.
“Oh my God I thought you were Alfred.”
Your voice was half nervous-laugh and half breathless. He noted the way your posture shifted immediately, how you closed yourself up. Like a cornered street cat. Whether you know you’re doing it or not, your body keeps trying to make itself smaller.
The two of you pack in silence. Bruce keeps thinking you’ll try and start a conversation, like you used to, but he’s just met with silence. You haven’t opened up about that night yet. There hasn’t been a moment where you broke down in front of him and confessed everything, all those horrible thoughts swirling in your head like scum circling a drain.
It will happen, won’t it? When he held you, you had been so vulnerable, begging for him. Between the seizing and choking, you begged someone to call your Father. So why weren’t you talking to him?
“When we get back, we need to talk about something.” He hopes his voice comes out as gently as he means it. Bruce knows he can be harsh, he knows he’s rough and sharp, but he has to try.
He lost one child once, he nearly lost another. Forever this time.
It has to get better.
“Can’t we just talk now?” You still don’t face him, back turned against him, a wall built to keep him out. He can’t blame you, he placed the first brick. Without seeing your face, he knows you’re afraid. Every muscle tensed up defensively.
“I think it’d be better somewhere.. Private.”
Bruce Wayne can smell paparazzi rats from miles away. Of course he noticed the way the staff whispered to one another, it was just a matter of time until it slipped that Bruce Wayne had been spending a strange amount of time in the private hospital with a mystery girl. Sooner or later there would be cameras, and cameras brought questions.
“Okay.” Your protest dies before it can take flight. You’re tired, you’re hungry, you want everything to be over. To just go back to normal, for everyone to just back off and leave you alone. You can take care of yourself, you don’t need all these people suffocating you.
Before you can register what's happening, a pair of arms reach around and hold you from behind. Feral, you push them away and spin round to face the body. Bruce looks at you with a mix of shock and pity, what you can’t tell is who he’s feeling sorry for. You, or himself.
“Don’t touch me.” Is all you can get out, before tears well up and embarrass you.
“You can’t do that- you can’t avoid me like a plague and then act all close. You- you- you weren’t there! You don’t get to be here now.” The words tumble out and fall over each other on the way out.
“I’m here because you wanted me here.” His voice was deceptively calm.
“I- what are you talking about? I never asked you to come, I would’ve been fine.” You don’t believe yourself for a second.
“You asked him to call your Father.”
You have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from spitting ‘Not you!’ out at him. It wouldn’t do any good. Defeatedly, you turn your back to him again and resume packing.
“That’s not fair. So when he wants you- when some guy in a costume says you have to be there, you come running. But when I wanted you, when a child wanted you, you were nowhere to be seen.”
The folding turns into a rhythm, and you can’t stop yourself from talking.
“You don’t think I asked for you before? I used to knock on your door every day. Every night. I didn’t ask for anything. I just wanted you to see me. Call me selfish but I wanted your attention. Maybe if I had Batman’s number you would’ve been there. Too bad he isn’t my dad huh?”
I'm back from the dead! had the craziest month of my life- the major updates: new job! yay! finished moving! yay! then i got so sick i couldn't move my hands AT ALL. I have this thing where I'm allergic to certain products/chemicals, and if i touch them at all my hands basically shut down- its hard to describe but TLDR my hands are in constant agony and immobile for a week, so, makes it kinda hard to write. BUT IM BETTER NOW!
your boyfriend, taesan, confesses that he loves you for the first time. except, he doesn’t say i love you, he calls you his first love instead.
pairing: han taesan x gn!reader ; contents: established relationship, fluff, saying i love you for the first time, kissing, woonhak mention cause i can’t shut up abt him, just cuteness !! wc: ~0.9k
— now playing i hope my cat loves me
you have been dating taesan for around two months now. everything has come naturally for both of you since you were close friends even before your relationship turned into anything romantic.
comfort came easily. close physical proximity came easily. even staying up until 2 am delving into the political and economic state of the world with your legs tangled together on your couch came easily! there was only one thing that has not settled easily for the two of you yet; words of affection.
taesan will compliment you and vice-versa, but the idea of the words i love you coming out of your mouth feels too foreign. just the thought alone makes you internally cringe.
the odd part is, you do love taesan. that’s something you have never had a thought of doubt about. it’s just that you believe that this enormous sense of love you feel for him has a time and place. you don’t live every minute of your life with the itching urge to express this love in words when you can with your actions. and… the time and place has never come.
when exactly… will it come?
read more under the cut! (^_^*)
well! anyways, you and taesan are on your sofa in your pajamas, each on opposite sides with mugs full of hot tea—your respective favorite flavors—in your hands. your legs are tangle over each other’s in a complex criss-cross pattern.
“can you believe it?” taesan starts.
what a thought provoking question, you think. taesan always starts off a conversation with a question containing absolutely zero context.
you tilt your head a bit. “believe what?”
he emphasizes each word, “woonhak is onto his next talking stage already. it’s been, what, 4 days?” his eyebrows furrow as they always do when he’s talking about something with passion.
“i could believe it,” you respond with a hint of sarcasm.
you take a sip from your warm mug and watch as taesan shuffles in his seat. you like to test him, act like a know-it-all.
“okay, i could believe it too,” taesan surrenders, “but, still!”
you hide back your smile, finding how defeated he looks to be adorable. that is why you test him.
you reason, “we know that woonhak is just doing this out of hurt, though. this is his way of coping with… you know.”
taesan hums, calming down now. “mm, for sure. he’s still not over his first love. that got him good.”
you nod.
a short moment of comfortable silence passes. taesan takes a small sip of his tea before he subtly—or what he might think is subtle—clears his throat and looks at you with a glint of hesitancy.
that’s strange.
“you know…” his voice comes out quieter this time; a little strained like his throat is struggling to let the words flow out.
you wait for him to continue.
taesan’s eyes move to his lap. “i think you’re my first.”
there it is. taesan’s heart was too full that his throat could not possibly hold back such a strong confession.
“your first… what?” you blink.
he stares back at you, eyes full of an emotion you have never seen in your boyfriend before; by uncovering this blanket of indescribable emotion, one would find fear.
and, for the first time in you and taesan’s relationship, you sense a crack in the comfort. a change that cannot be determined to be good or bad at first glance. to define it, you’ll just have to wait and see.
“my first love.”
your heart begins to stutter. your mind can’t form a coherent thought anymore.
you let out a breath, “oh.”
then, as a common coping mechanism of yours, you wrack your brain to something that taesan had told you back when you were just friends.
you use this aged piece of information as an attempt to change the tone of the current topic. you ask, “taesan, i thought you didn’t believe in first loves?”
yet, taesan is determined to keep this conversation on track.
“i used to not believe in first loves. i do now.”
your mouth gapes open a little.
“because of me?” you test the waters back.
he’s still staring at you. “because of you, yeah.”
ah, fuck it. this feels about right for time and place.
“taesan,” you try to steady your voice, but your words still come out shaky, “you love me?”
“yes, yn. i love you.”
you shuffle in your seat to straighten yourself up.
“taesan, i love you too.”
it feels as if a truth that you’ve been holding onto has finally come to light. all of a sudden, you want to say the phrase that you once did not wish to be spoken of over and over again.
taesan fixes his posture as well, leaning forward so your faces are directly in front of each other. he smiles without his teeth, pupils dipping their focus from your eyes to your lips.
he slowly closes the short distance between your lips as his hand, warm from the mug, moves up to caress your cheek.
taesan smiles softly into the kiss, and the corners of your mouth can’t help but lift with his.
you pull apart just enough to make the tips of your noses touch. you admire his beauty; the emotion in his eyes is love. it always has been.
you desire to stare at taesan’s pretty face for longer, but he engulfs you tightly in his arms and the two of you fall onto the armrest of the couch. he stuffs his face into your neck and rapidly places more kisses there. that’s fine too. taesan’s pretty face can be there too, you suppose.
he mumbles “iloveyou” again, and again, and again.
you chuckle, “taesan! i get it, stop! our tea is gonna spill!”
the words i love you will never be foreign to you ever again.
please DO NOT translate, copy, or repost as yours. feeding my works into ai will NOT be condoned.
maia’s note: BNDBLR IM BACK . all roads lead back to boynextdoor it seems… this is also very rusty i just wanted to write for my own enjoyment and i really liked this idea and taesan so. i was aiming for this work to be more dialogue heavy, and i think it is, but it’s still quite description focused haha…. i’m thinking abt making a version of this for a cortis member but i’m not sure. reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!! 🤍
N/A: The much-requested part 2 of Black Ink & White Flowers is here, enjoy! ! (I hope it makes sense, it did in my head 😔)
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Taesan × Florist!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, awkwardly affectionate Taesan, flower shop AU, first date, lots of pining even after dating, tooth-rotting sweetness
Summary: Three weeks after your first date, Taesan stops pretending he visits the flower shop for the flowers. The only problem? Buying flowers for a florist turns out to be much harder than falling in love with one. 🌸🖤😭
When you asked Taesan out, you honestly had no idea where that courage had come from.
Maybe it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.
Maybe you'd wanted to do it for much longer than you were willing to admit.
All you knew was that seeing him turn completely red had been worth it.
You exchanged numbers that same day.
Taesan had barely managed to nod while typing his contact into your phone.
He still looked like he hadn't fully processed what had just happened.
The date was set for Saturday.
Eleven in the morning.
And to your surprise, he insisted on picking you up.
At 10:40, your phone buzzed.
"I'm here".
When you stepped out of your apartment building, you found him leaning against the entrance, staring down at his phone.
He was dressed almost entirely in black, almost.
Because for the first time since you'd met him, he was wearing light-wash jeans instead of black pants.
He looked up the moment he heard your footsteps and shoved his phone into his pocket so quickly that it made you smile.
"You look pretty."
The second he said it, his hand found the back of his neck.
"Ready?"
And yes.
He was definitely nervous.
He was nervous the entire drive.
You noticed it in the way he gripped the steering wheel.
The way he took half a second longer than usual to answer your questions.
The way he immediately looked away whenever he caught you looking at him.
And somehow, the more nervous he became, the harder it was to stop smiling.
They ended up at a huge shopping mall.
They watched a movie.
Shared popcorn.
Had lunch together.
Then spent hours wandering around without any real destination.
It happened during one of those walks.
Something brushed against your hand.
You looked down.
Taesan's fingers had barely touched yours.
Like it had been an accident.
But when you looked up, he was suddenly very interested in a store window that clearly wasn't interesting at all.
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing.
Because it was obvious and because it was adorable.
The second time wasn't an accident.
His fingers brushed yours again.
And this time, he didn't move away.
When you intertwined your fingers with his, he nearly tripped over his own feet.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"You almost fell."
"I'm fine."
Liar. But he didn't let go of your hand.
And neither did you.
When he dropped you off in front of your apartment building that night, the two of you stood beside his car for a few seconds without really knowing what to say.
"I had fun."
"Me too."
Taesan nodded.
Looked at the entrance.
Looked at you.
Looked back at the entrance.
Then lowered his head slightly.
"We can go out again next week."
It wasn't a question, sounded more like a request.
You smiled.
"Of course."
The relief that immediately appeared on his face made you laugh.
And when you finally made it back to your apartment, you were still smiling.
Three weeks later, Taesan had stopped pretending he came to the flower shop for flowers.
Now he came for you.
Sometimes he'd show up in the morning carrying two coffees.
Sometimes he'd stop by after work.
Sometimes he'd walk into the shop, look around for twenty minutes, and leave without buying a single thing.
"You came here just to see me, didn't you?"
You asked one afternoon.
Taesan, who had been quietly watching you arrange sunflowers, took two whole seconds to answer.
"Yeah."
He didn't even try to lie.
Which somehow made it worse.
Because every day, he seemed less interested in hiding it.
He started leaning against the counter while you worked.
Handing you things when you were busy.
Resting a hand on your waist whenever he walked past you.
Tucking strands of hair behind your ear without even realizing that every single time he did it, you completely forgot what you were doing.
Mrs. Kim was the first one to notice.
She was one of your regular customers.
She came by almost every week.
And she'd been watching Taesan from the very beginning.
"He's getting bolder."
She told you one afternoon while choosing flowers.
"What?"
"Your boyfriend."
You nearly dropped the scissors.
Mrs. Kim subtly pointed behind you.
Taesan was sitting in one of the chairs.
Watching you. Again.
"He's not doing anything."
"He's been staring at you for ten minutes."
You glanced over and sure enough, he was still watching you.
The moment your eyes met, he looked away so fast that it almost made you laugh.
Mrs. Kim burst out laughing.
"Poor thing."
"Why poor thing?"
"Because he's hopelessly in love with you."
🌸🌸
A few days later, Mrs. Kim returned to the flower shop
and found Taesan completely alone.
You were in the back organizing an order.
Taesan had been wandering around the bouquets for nearly five minutes without touching any of them.
Mrs. Kim watched him for a moment.
"Looking for something?"
Yaesan nearly jumped.
"No."
"That's a lie."
Silence.
"I want to buy flowers."
"What a surprise. You're in a flower shop."
Taesan closed his eyes for a second.
As if gathering patience.
"They're for her."
Mrs. Kim smiled immediately.
"I see."
Taesan glanced around.
Then toward the storage room door to make sure you weren't listening.
And lowered his voice.
"I don't know which ones to choose."
Mrs. Kim had to fight very hard not to laugh.
ÑBecause out of everyone in the world, a florist's boyfriend was asking her for help choosing flowers.
"What do you want to tell her?"
"Tell her?"
"With the flowers."
Taesan blinked.
As if he'd never thought about that before.
"I just want her to like them."
And for some reason, that was the most romantic thing Mrs. Kim had heard all week.
Summary: Leehan can usually control the electricity running beneath his skin, until you start getting too close to him. Suddenly, flickering lights, static shocks, and jealous sparks become impossible to hide.
The first time Leehan shocked you, it was completely accidental.
The two of you were sitting on the floor of his room watching random videos on his laptop while he fixed a pair of disassembled headphones on the low table in front of you.
You weren’t even really paying attention to the screen.
It was hard to when he looked like that.
Hair slightly messy, glasses low on his nose, and that calm concentration that somehow made him look way too pretty without even trying.
“Do you always fix things when you’re bored?”
you asked.
Leehan let out a small nasal laugh.
“I like understanding how things work,”
he replied while carefully adjusting a wire.
Your eyes dropped to his hands.
Long fingers.
Pretty hands.
And without thinking much about it, you reached over and lightly touched one of his fingers out of curiosity.
The second your skin brushed against his—
tzzzt.
A small warm shock ran through your hand.
It didn’t hurt.
But it was definitely there.
You blinked in surprise.
Leehan froze too.
Completely still.
Slowly, he looked up at you.
“…Did you just electrocute me?”
you asked between disbelieving laughter.
He immediately looked away.
“…Sorry.”
His ears were completely red.
You laughed harder.
“Wait, that was real?”
Leehan set the screwdriver down on the table like he wanted to pretend none of that had just happened.
“It happens sometimes,”
he murmured.
“‘Sometimes’? Donghyun, you literally have electricity in your hands.”
He partially hid his face behind his sleeve.
Which somehow only made him look cuter.
After that, you started noticing way too many things.
The LED lights in his room flickered whenever he got embarrassed.
Your headphones crackled with static if he held them for too long.
One time you grabbed his hand unexpectedly while walking together and his entire computer monitor shut off behind you.
Leehan just closed his eyes for a second.
“…Shit.”
And you laughed so hard afterward that he eventually stopped trying to hide it.
Well.
Mostly.
Because even then, he never wanted to explain too much.
Every time you asked serious questions about his powers, Leehan either changed the subject or pretended to be extremely focused on literally anything else.
But there was one thing you slowly figured out on your own.
The more nervous he got around you…
the stronger the electricity became.
And honestly, you started liking that a little too much.
You liked suddenly getting close to him just to watch the lights flicker softly.
Brushing his fingers “accidentally” and feeling his entire body tense.
Standing too close while he worked on something and hearing that faint electric hum beneath his skin.
Leehan always tried to act calm.
But around you, it was impossible.
One night, the two of you were at a small convenience store buying drinks when the cashier started talking to you a little too much.
Nothing serious.
Just obviously flirting.
You honestly weren’t paying much attention to it, but when you glanced toward Leehan…
you noticed it immediately.
Still.
Way too still.
He was holding your drink with a calm expression.
But the refrigerator lights behind him were flickering softly.
Once.
Then again.
And again.
Your lips parted slightly.
Oh.
Oh no.
The cashier kept talking.
“Do you come here often?”
Before you could answer, something went tzzzt.
The lights inside the store flickered violently.
The cashier startled.
And you slowly turned toward Leehan.
He was still staring at the drinks like he hadn’t done anything.
But the can in his hand was literally vibrating slightly.
“Donghyun.”
He looked up.
“Hm?”
His ears were red.
“Are you jealous?”
Silence.
Leehan held your gaze for a few seconds before calmly answering:
“No.”
And immediately after that, every light behind him flickered violently again.
You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.
Leehan let out an embarrassed sigh before gently grabbing your wrist to pull you away from the counter.
“Don’t laugh,”
he muttered.
“I’m trying to control it.”
“Control what?”
you teased.
He glanced at you briefly.
And for a second, a small blue spark appeared between his fingers wrapped around your wrist.
Your breath caught instantly.
Leehan noticed it too.
His eyes immediately dropped to where he was touching you.
Then he sighed in defeat.
“You affect me too much.”
Your heart slammed painfully against your chest so hard you almost forgot how to breathe.
Because the way he said it didn’t sound like a complaint.
It sounded dangerously honest.
Leehan slowly loosened his grip on your wrist, but before pulling away completely, he brushed his fingers against yours again.
✮ — i’m so bnd pilled good god they plague my mind every single day im not normal. ( + ty to my dearest @ivehan for providing me the moral support for me to actually finish and post this🙂↕️❤️🩹….and leehan’s silly questions…!!)
fluff ; ᵎᵎ boyfriend headcanons ᵎᵎ, implied idol!bnd in some, a bit of comedy, lots of sweetness, overall very cute and kissable ot6 <3 wc : ~ 1k per member — 6.5k total
⤷ ゛sungho ˎˊ˗
.⋆ ༘ - he loves to laugh with you. sometimes, you’re convinced he thinks you’re the funniest person on earth. you could make the dumbest, corniest joke you don’t even think twice about and he’s giggling up a storm. he’s doubled over and slapping your knee like he’s about to pass out. he’ll try to add on to the joke but ends up cackling mid sentence and almost losing his breath. and if you start to laugh? it’s over for him. hearing you laugh makes him happier, therefore making him laugh more. he has to get up and take a lap before he loses his mind even further, giggling to himself as he mumbles the joke under his breath. it’s a cycle that takes longer than necessary to break but the memory afterwards is so worth it. you don’t even think you’re that funny most times, he just wants that cookie so effing bad…
.⋆ ༘ - takes your night routine very seriously. for him, a proper nights sleep means better mornings with you, so he makes sure it’s done right. he cradles your face delicately, insisting he takes your makeup off for you with a cotton pad damp with makeup remover. next is a hot shower with your favorite scented candle followed by getting into comfortable pajamas (his shirt and an old pair of shorts). he’ll have your skincare lined up on the bathroom counter for you, which he of course likes to do together. and although a little calloused, sungho’s hands are gentle against your skin while he works in your moisturizer “the right way,” he says. he’ll then fill his comically large water bottle with cold water and set it on the nightstand in case you’re thirsty later. he says it’s for convenience but, in reality, he just doesn’t want you to leave him in the middle of the night. it’s all a labor of love and his favorite way to decompress after a long day, so you let him take care of you before resting in his embrace.
.⋆ ༘ - always notices and helps when you’re anxious. he has a knack for sensing when theres a situation that’ll make you want to curl in on yourself. he’ll see you pick at your nails or fidget with a loose thread on your top and slide his palm into yours. you feel three reassuring squeezes to let you know he’s there for you, maybe even keeping you a little closer to his side. other times, he watches as your leg shakes below you restlessly and sets his hand against your knee, swiping easy circles with his thumb to ground you. sungho’s picked up on your habits before you even realize you do them, doing his best to avoid anything that would make you feel worse. he’ll carry some earbuds on him or keep a sweater that smells like him in his car, “just in case.” you tease him for it but are ultimately grateful he’d even think of going out of his way like this. and if all else fails, he is more than okay with taking the time to break you away from the crowded noises, or even leave altogether if need be. he’s never made you feel like a burden for something you can’t control, always reassuring you that it’s his job to keep you happy and comfortable. besides, he has more fun when there’s a smile on your face anyway.
.⋆ ༘ - loves treating you like the passenger princess you are. seat heater on, drink in the cup holder, a blanket if you’re still cold, and obviously you’re on aux. he’s an absolute gentleman when it comes to escorting his girlfriend around, because why should you have to drive yourself around when he’s there? he opens the door for you and kisses your cheek before closing it. the seat is adjusted to the perfect setting for your comfort and hasn’t been changed since he set it ages ago. he’s always happy and proud to drive you wherever you need; your work, the store, out with friends, with no complaints as long as you’re back in his car on the way home. he’s never had a reason to doubt or question your whereabouts, sungho is just naturally a protective person when it comes to you, so it eases his mind to know you’re safe with him by your side. his only ask is that you’re holding his hand the entire drive.
.⋆ ༘ - he loves to cook with you. fortunately, he isn’t the “gtfo of the kitchen while i cook.” type of person, so he has you sitting pretty on the counter while he prepares a meal. he likes when you help cut veggies or prep the side dishes while he works on the main ingredients and seasonings, watching as everything comes together just like it should. he’ll hold a steady hand under your chin while he spoon feeds you a bite to taste for flavor, smiling at how your face lights up when it’s good. but of course it’s good, he has your preferences memorized. sungho even keeps a list of foods he knows you like and peruses the supermarket with a guiding hand on your back to make sure they end up in your dinner that week. you think it’s a little corny when he talks about teamwork but he’s right, the food always ends up coming out tastier when you help each other.
.⋆ ༘ - is always holding your bag(s) for you while you’re out. he really doesn’t let you hold anything while you’re out, claiming it’s his responsibility as your boyfriend to make sure your hands are free. in his mind, the only thing you should be carrying around is his wallet and a sweet treat. it’s a struggle to convince him to let you hold something yourself. no matter the amount or how heavy your bags are, he’s carrying them without breaking a sweat and still holding your hand. “that’s what i work out for,” he says, encouraging you to buy even more. and if you’re out on a date? good luck. the only way he’ll begrudgingly agree to let you hold your own bag is if you argue that it goes with your outfit. otherwise he’s slinging it over his shoulder with an arm around you and walking down the street with pride. (plus it makes him look cunt !!)
⤷ ゛riwoo ˎˊ˗
.⋆ ༘ - always gives you the first bite of whatever he’s eating. not only is it important that he keeps you fed, but seeing your expression when something is really good makes it all worth it. especially with desserts; he’ll lift his fork to your mouth and insist you try it first, even if it’s his favorite. he doesn’t even think about trying it himself before asking “is it good?” in a tone even sweeter than the cake. it goes without saying that whatever he’s eating, you should be the first to appreciate its flavor. riwoo’s started to form a new habit of basing his tastes off of yours because of how you describe each bite you take, it gives him a greater appreciation for foods he’s never thought much about. if you try to feed him the second bite, he all of a sudden grows shy and turns his head with flushed ears after eating off of your fork.
.⋆ ༘ - cannot stay away from you for long after a fight. it’s not too often you guys have disagreements. but when you do, you typically like to take some space for yourself. your boyfriend, on the other hand, does not. of course he’ll respect your decision and let you have a breather to collect your thoughts. but not even 20 minutes go by before he’s knocking on your door to make up. he swears he’s not an overthinker but just the thought of upsetting you over something silly makes his heart ache. so he’s quick to get back on your good side. riwoo’s very patient and understanding when hearing your opinions, admitting when he’s wrong and agreeing when you’re right. but you’ve been away from him for too long and he knows how to get through to you with that charmingly cute face of his. there’s something in his expression that makes you realize this argument wasn’t worth seeing his lips downturned. and even if you continue to give yourself alone time, he’ll wait patiently by your door until you’re ready to talk and invite him into your arms again.
.⋆ ༘ - matching nails is like his love language. he’ll notice you staring at his hands a little more than usual and offer to do your nails to match his (not before teasing you a bit, of course). his hands work steadily, putting all his concentration on every little detail to make the design as cute as possible. once he says he’s done, the fond grin on your face at the reveal brings him a joy that’s unmatched by anything else. he’s even gone as far as to schedule nail appointments for when there’s an aesthetic you both love and would like to get done. the nail techs coo in adoration when they realize you’re matching and hope to see you both again. and of course, when you’re both walking out and gleaming with excitement, you know you’ll end up seeing candid pictures of your hands across your boyfriend’s social media. you holding a cup of coffee, his fingers laced with yours, even just resting on the couch. riwoo is just so happy to show off how beautiful your matching accessories are.
.⋆ ༘ - side quest final boss. you two go everywhere with each other no matter the situation. oh you have a package to ship? he’ll join you at the post office. craving that ice cream from across town? he’s slipping his coat on before you finish that sentence. he enjoys the spur of the moment ideas you can come up with throughout the day too. like if your local arcade is having a discount on play tokens or a new line of plushie blind boxes at a store, you both wordlessly decide that you’re going. as your partner (in crime), he’s made it his mission to keep you on your toes. so he also just..shows up at your door on multiple occasions to drag you out of the house for whatever adventure he’s decided to take you on. many of your dates and outings have sprouted from the simple phrase of “hey, do you wanna —” because you two are just joint at the hip now!
.⋆ ༘ - you guys have way too many inside jokes. ever since you started dating, the back and forth of making jokes has been a constant between you two. you’ve since made a handful of on-going jokes that you’ll bring up from time to time that have weaved themselves into your relationship. he can’t even make eye contact with you for a while after either, otherwise he starts laughing all over again. the moment will pass when you’ve calmed down but you can still hear him giggling quietly every now and then. it’s impossible to get the two of you to be quiet when you’re in a group setting because you’re going back and forth making references no one understands. “riwoo, look…it’s a.. banana…” and then you’re both giggling. even just the tone in which you say something creates a pattern in your jokes. in his mind, there’s always something to giggle about. he has single-handedly brought so much whimsy into your life and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
.⋆ ༘ - always remembers to buy you flowers. every week or so when he realizes the last bouquet is wilting, he walks over to the flower shop and gets you a new one. the owner recognizes him by now and thinks it’s so sweet how he speaks of you with the sweetest smile and faint blush. he shows up to your door with the bouquet and sweet little treat in hand, ready to watch them bring new life to your home. he has your favorite flower memorized and always includes them in every bundle. they’re never the same either. always a different color scheme or a different arrangement of flowers, to change things up a bit. of course, he keeps a flower to himself in his room as a reminder of both your presence and your love. and in the months leading up to your anniversary, he gathers the dried petals and presses them in a small picture frame to surround a picture you had taken on your last date. you recognize each petal from every bouquet, realizing he had planned this from the start.
⤷ ゛jaehyun ˎˊ˗
.⋆ ༘ - gives you the most loving, heart melting smile ever. the look in his eyes is so warm and genuine, especially when you tell him you love him. his ears flush and his eyes turn into adorable crescents before he says he loves you more. he’s just so mesmerized by you doing anything that a cheesy grin spreads on his face before he realizes. watching you be so kind to the world just melts his heart and he gets a little emotional thinking about how perfect you are. anyone that talks to him knows about you. and they can tell just how whipped he is for you by the dreamy look in his eyes and how he can’t stop smiling. on the days that are harder, you’re the only one to get his spirits back up by making him smile, and all you have to do is.. be you. knowing how much you love and care about him is enough to energize him for weeks.
.⋆ ༘ - his camera roll is filled with more picture and videos of you. you occupy his storage more than anything else. you’re not even sure how he has so many reminders of you on his phone, he’s just always thinking of you. he may not be the best at taking candid pictures, but he captures the raw and real you. when you’re laughing hard enough to fall over, when your favorite song comes on the radio, and he notices that you’re a lot brighter when you’re with him. it makes him happy to see he’s had as much of a positive impact on your life as you have to his. jaehyun doesn’t care how much of his storage you take up, he’s never deleting anything. he keeps pictures, videos, voice memos, even the grocery list you typed in his notes app when your phone was dead. to him, they’re all memories of you that he needs to keep forever, he’ll buy a whole new phone if he has to!!
.⋆ ༘ - is obsessed with kissing you. as in, any chance he gets, he’s pressing his lips onto your skin and pulling you close. working on your laptop? shoulder kiss. brushing your teeth? kiss on your temple. just standing there? big fat smooch. he just thinks you’re too cute and the opportunity is too perfect to pass up. he thinks your face fits just right in his hands and goes in before you can protest. sometimes he gets a little carried away and the two of you end up making out for a lot longer than anticipated, but it’s so hard to resist him. he’ll send you a flying kiss from across the room and you watch as his ears go red when you return the favor. one time, you forgot how pigmented your lipstick was and kissed him on the cheek before a date. that man refused to wipe it off and wore it out on the town with so much pride. he’s actually asked you to do that before every date because he was obsessed with it. oh, and never forget to kiss him goodbye before either of you leaves for work. he’ll hold a grudge, that doesn’t last that long anyway, and sulk until you kiss him properly.
.⋆ ༘ - he loves being obnoxiously clingy. he will make a show of resting his chin atop of your head or caging you against a fence with a sly smile. he truly doesn’t care if people are staring with a stank-face, he’s happy to be molded to your side like this. as your boyfriend, jaehyun will find any excuse to hold you, which includes clinging to your back while you stand there. he’s definitely a huge fan of pda, excited to be able to show off your relationship when he can. you’ll find his arm draped around your shoulder and twirling your hair around his fingers absentmindedly. soon, it’ll drag down and linger around your waist as if ready to pull you in at any moment. and when that moment comes, he presses a big smooch on the crown of your head with a wide grin. you know he means well and doesn’t mean to embarrass you but that won’t stop him from at least squeezing your hand as a small ‘i love you’.
.⋆ ༘ - really good at comforting you and calming you down after a rough day. he can tell you’re not feeling your best right when you walk through the door. your bag quickly thuds on the ground and he can tell you’re dragging your feet. and once he sees that drained expression on your face and it’s almost like he’s more upset about whatever happened than you are. jaehyun pulls you in, cooing about how he’ll make you feel better as he kisses your cheeks. his hand is warm and solid as he runs it up and down your back, the pads of his fingers brushing against your spine. his other arm holds you close to remind you he isn’t going anywhere. he’ll always offer to let you rant it out and is a great listener; he knows what it’s like to keep these feelings to himself. he knows the importance of not only voicing these feelings but also giving them time to pass and process through your system. you work through it together and watching you regain your spark only gives him more motivation to work harder for the both of you. and even if this streak of poor days continues, you’ll always have your number one supporter waiting at home for you to get you through it all.
.⋆ ༘ - your family loves him and he loves them just as much. as expected, jaehyun is nervous to meet your family at a gathering. he needs to make a good first impression, to prove he’s worthy of standing beside someone as lovely as you. he knocks on the door, anxiously waiting for the door to swing open. but instead of a stoic man, his gaze drops to a smaller, much more energetic child. he lowers his guard almost immediately as he crouches down, noticing your cousins shirt. “i love that show!! is that your favorite character?” and he blends right in, safe to say he’s a fan favorite. your aunts will tease, saying they realize why you like him so much. he’s respectful towards your elders yet caring and lively with your siblings and cousins. they treat him as one of their own and he gets shy when they mention how often you talk about him. it melts your heart to see him get along with everyone despite being so nervous. he’s beaming by the time you two leave, his heart warm with how openly he was accepted by the people who made you who you are today. your grandparents send him home with food and he is elated when he realizes this means he’s officially apart of the family.
⤷ ゛taesan ˎˊ˗
.⋆ ༘ - he will not have a good nights sleep if you’re not in his arms. it’s like his body doesn’t know what to do with itself unless you’re there. he’s tossing and turning in bed trying to get into a comfortable position, even if he already knows it’s no use if you’re not beside him. he has some sort of sixth sense for when you’ve moved out of his arms in your sleep. he wakes up, already pouting despite being disoriented, and pulls you back into his chest before falling right back asleep. and if he’s feeling extra dramatic? he’ll throw his leg over you “for good measure,” he mumbles. the nights you’re away are always difficult. he’ll sleep in the hoodie you sprayed your perfume onto and it normally helps but it still isn’t you. his members aren’t sure whether to be amused or scared at this change since he’s a little snappier in the mornings without you. he’s a bit embarrassed he can’t sleep alone comfortably anymore but he uses it as an excuse for you to stay at his place more often (and to move in sooner..)
.⋆ ༘ - does the cliche of sharing an earbud with you in public. some may say it’s cheesy but it’s just another reason to keep you by his side. at the beginning of the relationship when he was a bit quieter and more shy, he made you a playlist of songs that reminded him of you or ones you’ve mentioned you liked. the blush that crept up his neck when he showed you was adorable and you both still add to the playlist. so if the two of you are standing in a long line or taking the train home, he pulls out an earbud and offers it to you. he holds you closer if you fall asleep on his shoulder, staring at your face a little too hard when a favorite song comes on. other times, he’ll put a random album on the queue and you both rank the songs in his notes app until you arrive at your destination. he’s kept them all and added your favorites from said album into the playlist, with mental notes of your feedback.
.⋆ ༘ - uses pictures of you (and his members) as reaction images/stickers. you’re convinced he hasn’t used a normal emoji in years considering how many he’s collected. there’s an album in his phone just full of pictures of his friends. some are heartwarming and let you see the members through taesan’s eyes, seeing how he’s collected these memories seemingly without them noticing. but most of them are unflattering and dumb. you, however, have your own special album that to you seems so much worse. you when you’re sleeping, eating, working, studying, even zoning out. but to your boyfriend? there’s not a single bad photo in there. he finds some of them funny but mostly uses them because he gets to stare at your face. he has a system with them. jaehyun images are for when something is funny, woonhak for when he disagrees, and sungho for when he’s confused. riwoo and leehan are very versatile so he uses their reaction stickers on the regular. but girlfriend pictures are strictly for when he’s happy, because that’s all he feels around you. he’s also infected you and your messages are full of every sticker he has.
.⋆ ༘ - he will break his nonchalant streak just to see you smile. at first glance, everyone assumes that in public he’d keep to himself and linger quietly by your side. but in reality? he’s incredibly chalant and is conjuring up the most devious plan to embarrass himself, or his friends, to make you laugh. it’s completely unpredictable too, the 1001st possibility fr. he’ll make a dumb joke completely out of nowhere that he knows only you’d understand because he loves the way your face lights up. his reputation is long gone anyway so he thinks being embarrassed for the sake of your amusement is nothing. like a court jester to his queen… partially because you’ve helped him become a more expressive and extroverted person since you got together and he wants to repay you for that. he would fight wars for that smile of yours. #1 aegyo hater but he will change that for you.
.⋆ ༘ - claims to be a night owl but, in reality, can’t stay up past midnight. he’ll insist that you have a movie marathon and pays attention no problem for the first part. but in the middle of the third movie, you notice the clock reading 11:47pm and your boyfriend is laying his head on your lap just a little too still. he shoots up when you question if he’s okay to continue and nods his head, determined to finish and stay up. but to no ones surprise, he’s fast asleep when you come back from the bathroom after the movie at 12:30 sharp. the only times you’ll see him awake in the late hours of the night is when he has a deadline to make or is cooped up in the studio finishing something up. otherwise, his words start to slur and his responses get shorter as the night drags on. he’s definitely gotten better since adjusting to your late night antics, but it doesn’t stop him from clinging to you as the clock ticks closer to the later hours of the night.
.⋆ ༘ - seeing you in his clothes makes his brain short circuit. the first time was when it had started to rain in the middle of your date, and he couldn’t have you soaking your shirt and freezing your skin. so you took shelter under a small awning as he took his sweater off and handed it to you, not thinking much about it. however, it had then clicked that the sweater that’s even baggy on his 6’0 frame would look big on you, and he got noticeably quieter. taesan couldn’t think straight when you had commented that his cologne smelled nice. the effect it has on him is crazy because even months later he’ll have the same giddy reaction when you show up in his clothes. he loves seeing you freshly woken up, hair a mess and brain still catching up to what day it is. he just wants to squeeze you because of how his shirt hangs off of your shoulder and he won’t shut up about “how cute you look,” while smiling at you. but his personal favorite is seeing you wear his clothes when you go out because it’s like showing to people you have a piece of him everywhere. whether you have similar or completely different styles, he thinks whatever outfit you make with his clothes looks better on you than him, and insists you keep it.
⤷ ゛leehan ˎˊ˗
.⋆ ༘ - loves sending you his random thoughts. you’re just the first person he thinks to turn to when he wants to talk. and he talks about everything; a new fact he learned, hypothetical scenarios, something that made him think of you, and of course his endless rhetorical questions. it’ll be nearly 3 in the morning when your phone lights up with his contact asking if you think crabs have eyebrows… i mean, you answer him anyway but not before questioning his concerning sleep habits. however he makes for a pleasant audiobook when you’re bored. he’ll rest beside you and talk about his day, getting excited all over again when he recalls something that reminded him of you. you just adore the way his face lights up when you remember something he’s told you, it makes him feel heard. he gets upset when you’re away from each other though, if he’s across the country and can’t give you live updates because you’re probably asleep. but of course he makes the time and calls when it’s convenient for you both, setting his phone up on his bed while you go over your day with a smile.
.⋆ ༘ - prepares fruit for you two to snack on. because he’s such a light eater, leehan often opts for a bowl of fresh cut fruit throughout the day rather than larger meals. to him, it’s an act of love to prepare fruit for your lover, that alongside peeling shrimp (which he also does, of course.) and so he’s taken it upon himself to make sure your fridge is stocked with produce you’ll both enjoy, that of which is typically gone by the end of the week. he’ll take the time to feed you some pieces if he notices you haven’t eaten much that day or if he thinks you’ll enjoy a little something sweet in the moment. you’ll catch him lounging around the place with a cup of mango and it doesn’t take long for him to guide his fork to your mouth with an offering smile. plus, it’s always a sweet treat to taste the faint, sweet taste of strawberry that lingers on his lips.
.⋆ ༘ - he is always smiling around you. pupils dilated and a soft cheesy grin on his face while he stares at you. leehan is almost always the optimistic and smiley one amongst the group when you go out, but around you? he’s entirely worse. why should he have to look at anyone or anything else when all he needs is right in front of him. absolutely nothing can bring his mood down when you’re beside him. well, only when you tell him you need to go. he definitely has the “no one but my gf matters,” mentality. if he could, he’d spend his whole day just studying your face silently while he sits there smiling. sometimes you think he just wants a kiss, which he graciously accepts, but he’s just that happy to be around you. you’d think you just told him you’re an alien princess here to bless him with how he stares at you like you created the stars. this man has never had a bad day with you around and it shows.
.⋆ ༘ - his morning voice goes crazy. i mean, you already expected such considering how deep and velvety his voice normally is. but hearing him first thing in the morning as he whines about waking up is something else entirely. it’s a shock the first time you hear it. he had called you as soon as he woke up in his hotel room since he had a schedule that day. you thought your phone was tweaking but it was just… him. he questions why you went silent but you just urge him to keep talking, and the laugh he lets out when he realizes why kills you. even now, it makes you shiver when he holds you in bed to whine about how you should stay. a low drawl he presses against your ear, you can hear his pout without even needing to look at him. and he knows the effect it has on you, that’s why he uses it every morning to his advantage and smiles when it works before falling back asleep.
.⋆ ༘ - he gets sulkier than he’d like to admit. he never makes a big deal out of it and that almost hurts your heart more. it’s not a drastic change either, you notice the pout on his lips as he speaks less or the way he doesn't make eye contact and that's when you know he needs your attention. you’ll ask what’s wrong and at first he denies he was even upset. but the feeling of your hand slipping into his brings him back down to earth, back to you. you never push the truth out of him and that’s what he loves. it’s easy to coax him into letting you into his head. you tend to know how to deal with it better than his friends so they’ll call you over with an exasperated giggle. it’s known that he’s a little more sensitive than the others so he’s always grateful when you’re patient with his mood and take the time to care about him. you’ll comfort him with a smile and gently kiss the corner of his mouth, a win-win in his book; a sweet kiss and your attention.
.⋆ ༘ - likes to dry your hair for you after a shower. the bathroom could still be warm with condensation sticking to the mirror, but he thoroughly enjoys being able to help you with a small task. it’s his way of helping you de-stress, especially if he knows how much of a hassle it is for you to tire your arms. your hair products will be ready by the time you’re out and he’s ushering you to sit in front of him. he runs his fingers gently through your hair and brushes out any knots, trying his best not to snag any too hard. he doesn’t mind if your hair is thick or has a mind of its own, leehan’s patience is unmatched and will not be defeated by some hair. he also finds it adorable when you attempt to fight off your drowsiness, only to give in and rest your head against his chest because of how relaxed he’s made you. and when he’s done, he’ll press a kiss to your forehead, scoop you up, and carry you to bed, tucking you in beside him where you belong.
⤷ ゛woonhak ˎˊ˗
.⋆ ༘ - gives you the best princess treatment while you’re on your period. while he doesn’t always have your cycle fully memorized, he definitely recognizes the signs when that time is coming. he knows when to run to the store to restock on pain killers and grab your favorite snacks to surprise you with, the kind gesture easing your pain for a moment. is it because he’s a little scared of you when you’re snappy? maybe, but it’s not like he needs a reason to spoil you. his heart melts at the sight of you when he walks into your room as he comes back from the store. seeing you curled up in the corner of your bed just makes him want to help you feel better. he’ll refill your emotional support water bottle without asking and order the takeout you’ve been craving because it’s your comfort meal. he lets you order him around like your own personal assistant and he’s happy to do it. and sometimes, woonhak gets a little carried away with trying to do things for you that he forgets all you really need is a long nap (and some ibuprofen) to help it go by easier.
.⋆ ༘ - is obsessed with your scent. the smell of your shampoo, your body wash lingering on your skin, and especially your perfume. he caught a whiff of it on your first date and had been obsessed ever since, even restocking it for you when you run out. he’ll smell it off of the hoodie of his you had worn to bed the night before and tuck his face into his sleeve while he works. his members noticed something was up almost immediately because he refused to take his hoodie off in the middle of practice despite it being the middle of summer. he’s also used your shampoo on more than one occasion so he can keep a piece of you with him throughout his day. it’s cute, you think, to find a small travel sized bottle of it sitting in his bag before he travels. and once he comes home, all woonhak wants to do is melt into your embrace and drown in the sweet scent of your perfume that lingers on your skin. and now his favorite part of his bedtime routine is burying his face in your neck and letting your shampoo and body wash flood his senses and lull him to sleep.
.⋆ ༘ - prides himself on being someone you can be yourself around. woonhak has never given you a fake version of himself because he’s never had a reason to, so why should you? he’ll always love every little quirk of yours, no matter how weird or silly you may think it is, because it’s just another thing to admire. he won’t judge you for acting childish because why limit your youth? he won’t look down on you when your emotions get the best of you and you end up crying out of frustration, instead he opens up to let you know he’s a shoulder to cry on. he’s never made you feel weird or out of place for your hobbies/interests because he loves the look in your eyes when you get excited. woonhak will match your energy no matter the situation and you two grow closer each time because of it. he wants you to know he’s someone you can lean on and know there’s no pressure for you to be someone you’re not.
.⋆ ༘ - he still gets shy around you. you could be months, maybe even years into your relationship, and he’s still hiding behind his hands and smiling when you look at him with a warm expression. you’ll tilt your head in confusion and ask why he’s acting like that and all he does is shake his head and claim “it’s not fair you’re looking at me with those eyes” (his words btw), and doesn’t elaborate any further after that. it’s a handful of things, really; how your hair frames your face or the quick twinkle in your eyes when your gaze meets his. even when someone mentions your name, he feels himself getting nervous just thinking about you. his members can tease him all they want because, at the end of the day, he gets you all to himself. he ends up thinking about it way too hard, therefore causing a blush to crawl up his neck quicker than he realizes. he’ll just pull you in close and tuck your face into his shoulder while he composes himself.
.⋆ ༘ - the most over dramatic baby when he’s sick. i’m talking whiny, needy, and congested. normally, woonhak is very independent and always claims he doesn’t need to be babied. but when he’s sick? that man is down for the count and begging you to take care of him. never in the demanding way, though, more so in a dramatic “take me to the garden one final time,” like a victorian child kind of way. the medicine you give him tastes too bitter and he’s embarrassed at how he’s practically losing his voice. he’s sprawled out on the bed under two blankets but complains he’s still hot. says he’s starving but then loses his appetite. but he’s always super grateful when you take the time to nurse him to good health (maybe even gets a little emotional that you care so much.)
.⋆ ༘ - takes up the ENTIRETY of your bed in the mornings. you’ll fall asleep in each other’s arms the night prior, peaceful and comfortable underneath the moonlight. it’s foolish for you to think the morning would be the same, because then you wake up to half of your body dangling off the edge of your bed and woonhak’s leg over yours. the only reason you didn’t end up on the floor is because his hand is still holding yours, a habit he claims only occurs when he’s asleep, but he really can’t sleep well without it. “i can’t help what my body does when i’m asleep!!” is his excuse, and you can’t really stay mad at him when he’s so apologetic. however, this little habit of his does seem to mellow out for a few days once you threaten to make him sleep on the couch…
.⋆ ༘ + mini bonus for iphone users - sends game pigeon games and takes them way too seriously. definitely a pro at basketball, obviously, and hates how good you are at the word games. he may be on a 5 game losing streak on 8 ball but it’s just because he’s going easy on you, he swears!!
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≡ p.s. i have so many more hcs that didnt fit here, so stay tuned for a part 2 ;D
does the body ALWAYS have to keep the score? maybe we could just have a friendly game this time. maybe we can just have fun without putting numbers on it
jaehyun is lying on your bed like he’s got no bones, limbs sprawled out messily, one foot hanging off the edge, hoodie sleeves bunched up around his elbows. his head is tilted just slightly, eyes following your every move like he’s watching a movie he never wants to end.
you’re not even doing anything remotely interesting—just folding laundry, fixing your hair in the mirror, humming under your breath. but to jaehyun, it’s like the whole world slowed down just to spotlight you.
“stop staring,” you murmur, without looking at him.
“can you blame me?” he says, soft and lazy, and you roll your eyes. he just smiles.
a few seconds pass. then, quietly, he reaches out a hand—fingers curling around your wrist like an invitation.
you let him pull.
you fall forward with a laugh, catching yourself just before you land fully on him, but jaehyun’s already wrapping himself around you like a vine. arms around your waist, legs hooking around yours, face buried in the crook of your neck.
“you looked too pretty,” he murmurs, voice low. “couldn’t help it.”
you let out a breathy laugh, arms bracing yourself on either side of his shoulders. “you’re so clingy.”
“mhm,” he hums. “you say that like it’s new.”
you don’t try to fight it, just melt into his arms, your nose brushing his temple as you whisper, “you’re not gonna let go, are you?”
he shakes his head, nose bumping against your neck. “never.”
after a few minutes, you try to wiggle out of his arms—but he just tightens his hold, trapping you between his legs. you groan, but immediately give in.
“you’re really annoying,” you say, but there’s no real bite to your words.
he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “you love it.”
you do.
you really, really do.
(성호) 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮
you’re mid-conversation with a friend when you suddenly feel it—an arm sliding around your waist, the weight of a chin resting on your shoulder.
you turn your head, blinking—sungho? he’s not usually like this, especially not around other people. but here he is now, pressed up against you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“you okay?” you ask softly.
he doesn’t answer. just hums and tightens his hold on you, shooting your friend a perfectly polite smile. but there’s something smug in his eyes too—like he’s making a point.
you’re starting to piece it together when your friend finally leaves after muttering an awkward excuse. sungho lets out a quiet sigh against your neck.
“you jealous?” you tease, turning in his arms.
“maybe a little,” he says, not even trying to deny it. “i don’t know… i just saw him looking at you like he wanted your number.”
you don’t tease him for it. instead, you smile, warmth blooming in your chest as you lean into him a little more, fingers brushing where his rest on your waist.
“you could’ve just said you missed me.”
“would’ve been less effective,” he murmurs, his nose brushing your cheek as he presses a few lingering kisses along your jaw.
you don’t push him away, and he shows no intention of letting go anytime soon, paying no mind to the people around you. and for the rest of the day, he stays close—his arm brushing against yours, fingers laced through yours—like he’s not quite done being mad cute.
(리우) 𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖱𝖨𝖶𝖮𝖮
you wake up to the scent of early morning—cool air, faint sunlight peeking through the curtains—and the feeling of something warm and heavy draped around your waist.
your first instinct is to stretch, but you can’t. you’re being held in place.
when you blink your eyes open, the sight that greets you is enough to make your heart ache in the gentlest way: riwoo, still deep asleep, face tucked into your shoulder, nose brushing your collarbone, arms locked securely around your body like you’re the only thing anchoring him to this world.
his hair’s a little messy, hoodie slightly rumpled, lips parted just barely as he breathes softly against your skin. he looks peaceful. too peaceful.
you shift ever so slightly, trying not to wake him—but even that tiny movement makes his brow twitch in protest. you pause. then try again, gently peeling the blanket back.
bad idea.
he lets out the tiniest, grumpiest noise—something between a sigh and a whine—and immediately tightens his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest.
“riwoo,” you whisper, voice barely above a breath. “i need to get up.”
“five more minutes,” he mumbles, voice rough and muffled against your shoulder. “s’cold out there. stay warm with me.”
you huff a quiet laugh. “you’re such a baby.”
“am not,” he grumbles, still clearly half-asleep. “i just… like this.”
he says it so simply, like he’s explaining why the sky is blue. like being wrapped around you like a human blanket is the most natural thing in the world.
you glance down at him, only to find his eyes cracking open—just barely. sleep still clouds them, but the way he looks at you makes your chest tighten.
“ten minutes,” he murmurs, already nuzzling into you again. “maybe forever. just… don’t leave yet.”
you don’t answer. you just slip your arm around him in return, pressing your face into his hair and closing your eyes again.
(태산) 𝖧𝖠𝖭 𝖳𝖠𝖤𝖲𝖠𝖭
it starts when you cancel plans with taesan. just a quick text: “sorry, can’t make it today. something came up.”
you meant to follow it up, but time slips by, and you forget. you don’t notice his silence until hours later, when you’re walking up to your house and see taesan sitting on your porch—head hung low, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. his head lifts the moment he hears you call out his name.
“hey,” he says, but his voice is quieter than usual, a little hesitant.
“taesan? what are you doing here?”
he shrugs. “wanted to see you. you didn’t answer.”
you blink. “oh—i… i forgot. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to worry you—”
he doesn’t say anything. just takes a step forward and wraps his arms around your waist, like it’s the only way to make sure you’re not mad at him. you try to laugh it off, not used to his clinginess, but he doesn’t budge. instead, he tucks his cold nose against your neck, like he’s trying to soak in all your warmth.
“i missed you today,” he mumbles, his breath tickling your collarbone.
you pull him inside, and he doesn’t let go—not even for a second. not when you’re unlocking the door, not while you’re kicking off your shoes. you end up half-walking to the couch with him still glued to your side, arms looped tight around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.
he melts into you entirely when you sit down, arms still locked around your middle, pulling you closer like he’s trying to make up for all the time he didn’t get to hold you today.
eventually, he murmurs, “don’t cancel on me again without telling me why.”
you press a kiss to his cheek. “i won’t.”
but you probably will, if it means you get him all cuddly like this.
(이한) 𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖫𝖤𝖤𝖧𝖠𝖭
you’ve seen leehan tired before—after all-nighters, post-practice, sometimes when he forgets to sleep properly before a trip.
but today’s different.
he shows up at your house in the evening, hoodie zipped up, dark circles under his eyes, and a shy smile that doesn’t quite reach yet.
“hey,” he says, voice scratchy. “can i stay for a bit?”
you nod immediately, pulling him inside before he can explain or make excuses. he’s running a low fever—you realize it the second he leans into you, eyes closed, skin too warm.
you start fussing—getting him water, meds, a warm blanket, dimming the lights—and he just watches you from the bed, lips parted slightly, like he doesn’t know what to say.
“you should’ve told me,” you scold softly, kneeling beside the bed and running your fingers gently through his hair. “you didn’t have to come all the way here.”
his fingers brush against yours. “i know… i just didn’t want to bother you.”
later, when he’s tucked under your blanket, warm and drowsy, you think he’s fallen asleep.
but then you feel him shift, reaching for your arm. he tugs gently, eyes barely open.
you hesitate—only for a second. but when you slip under the blanket beside him, leehan immediately curls into you, arms winding around your waist, nose tucked into your shoulder.
“you didn’t have to take care of me,” he murmurs, “but you did.”
“you’d do the same for me,” you whisper, brushing your fingers through his hair.
“i would,” he agrees, already half-asleep, voice fading. “but i still think i’m the lucky one.”
(운학) 𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖶𝖮𝖮𝖭𝖧𝖠𝖪
it’s late, way too late. you’re standing at the door of woonhak’s room, backpack slung over your shoulder, jacket already zipped. the room is dim, lit only by the warm glow of his desk lamp. and he’s standing there, pouting.
“you’re really leaving?”
you laugh. “yes, woonhak. it’s late.”
“but i just got you to myself,” he says, walking toward you slowly. he stops right in front of you and lets his head fall onto your shoulder, arms sliding around your waist. “we barely got to do anything.”
“you dragged me into three different board games.”
“yeah, but i wanted to cuddle.”
you roll your eyes affectionately. “you can’t make me lose five rounds of uno and then ask for cuddles.”
“yes i can,” he whispers, arms tightening around your waist like a little kid. “just stay five more minutes. please?”
“woonhak…”
he looks up at you, lip jutting out slightly. “if you leave now, i’ll miss you the whole night.”
that’s the thing about woonhak—when he wants you close, he really wants you close. he’s a flirty, playful loudmouth with everyone else, but with you? he softens. and you give into his wants every single time.
he presses his forehead against yours, like it’s the only way to make time slow down.
“please…?” he pleads, one more time.
you sigh, defeated, and drop your bag to the floor.
his whole face lights up.
“i love you,” he beams, pulling you straight into his arms and wrapping himself around you like a koala, dragging you to his bed. “just until you really have to go,” he murmurs, face buried in your shoulder—and you can feel him smiling against your skin.
syn: sungho has been competing with you for all his life, and since you don’t seem to even bat an eye, he vows that college is when he’ll finally get you to notice him. he will win this time!
loosely inspired by the manga Last Game
genre: fluff/comedy, university academic rivalry wc: 4.1k
a/n: for my faeriwinkle who is quite honestly the most supportive person on bndblr and who i thank my lucky stars to have met <33 i hope you are having a wonderful birthday with all the happiness in the world, and that you know how precious you are to all of your friends. here is an academic weapon boyfailure sungho that i made just for you mwahhhh
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Park Sungho is a man of routine.
He does nothing out of order, and he does them to surgical precision. There is exactly a five second gap between waking up and brushing his teeth—bristles angled a perfect 45 degrees towards the gumline, rotated in small and perfectly round circles. His outfit is left ironed the night before, hung on the bedpost like a headless fabric-human. He has exactly three eggs for breakfast, some salad with it—a good amount of protein and fibre. It's always the right shoe, then the left.
Some (Jaehyun) would call Sungho a nit-picker, or a type A, or more than often, a control freak.
He would disagree. He's just detail-oriented, that's all. He has his principles and ambitions, and he'll make it to the top no matter how much freedom he needs to sacrifice for it. That rank #1 does not just fall into his lap doing nothing—it’s hustle, hustle, hustle.
So what if it makes him lose a little sleep, makes him a little cranky sometimes?
Thwack!
“Dude, what the actual fuck—?!” Jaehyun gasps as he jumps out of his own skin, the wooden table under him still vibrating from the force of Sungho’s fork being stabbed into it.
Sungho glares. He's been glaring for some time now, and not at Myung Jaehyun, but at the spot behind him—using the gap between his ear and his shoulder as a sniper scope. Straight at you.
Jaehyun swivels around, following his line of sight.
He takes in the view of you silently eating your tray of food, slipping a piece of broccoli into your mouth as you read the book propped up next to it. When Jaehyun eventually turns around to look at Sungho, he's wearing a face of exasperation. “Not this again. Dude…”
“Number 2,” Sungho huffs out heavily, chest rising and falling in rapid fiery breaths. “I'm number two in my class…again.”
“That's not bad.”
Sungho switches his maniacal glare towards him, making Jaehyun blanch like a ghost. He flails to fix his mistake but the blond is quicker to launch at his throat, “Not bad? …Not…Bad…???” He lets out a crazed laugh, one that won't sound out of place at a mental institution, making Jaehyun squirm in his place. “I have done everything right—I rewrote all my notes, I memorised the shit out of the additional readings… Hell, I even stopped showering for a week just to have more time to study for exams!”
“Yeah, we needed to stage an intervention for that, remember?”
“I deserve that spot,” Sungho ignores him pointedly. “Why does she hoard it like a mole, can't she let up at least once?? It's been like ten years.”
“She’s more like a squirrel if anything, look at her,” Jaehyun gestures towards how you've been chewing the same thing for the past five minutes, cheeks all puffed out, too engrossed in your reading. “And, it's you that decided to go to the same university as her… Even when you got offers from literally all your top options.”
“That's—” Sungho’s words die on his tongue. He isn't going into the psychoanalysis of why he'd chosen to follow his sworn enemy into the battlefield again, after losing over and over for all of his school years. “I need to do something about this. I'm not gonna lose to her again.”
“Right.”
“I need a game plan.”
“Right.”
There's a menacing glint in Sungho’s narrowed cat-like eyes, duckling yellow hair falling across it to make him look like he's trying very hard and looking intimidating, and failing every bit of the way. But the resolve in his voice is sharp when he says, “L/N Y/N, you are going down.”
Even if that means he might potentially be dragged down with you.
SUNGHO'S FOOLPROOF STEPS TO CLIMB TO #1
Step 1: Find the target, then lock the fuck in.
The clock ticks like a time-bomb about to explode any second, the hands on the dial moving with the pulse of his heart, his fingers tightly clasped within each other on the table.
His eyes flicker between the wall and the door, maniacally—he’s early by thirty minutes and the waiting might just kill him before the looming disappointment of Rank 2 does. But this is all part of the plan. If he wants to finally shake off the jinx of the second spot (ugh, even thinking those words makes him want to punch a pillow), then he needs to follow through without making mistakes.
The door finally clicks open and his heart finally soars, excitement building as your figure comes into view.
You're the same as always: loose, plain clothes, the same half-open backpack hanging off a shoulder, hair a quick work of being pulled together by what appears to be just your fingers. A mess, he would say. Nothing like him.
And it pisses him off, yeah. Because here is a disaster of a human being somehow doing better than him at what should be his forte. He's the one that spends hours poring over notes and utilising every resource he can get his hands on, going as far to hunt down the hard-to-access ones as well. He's the one that had a carpal tunnel for a month from non-stop typing. He's the one that has to hide his horrific eyebags under makeup in case he ends up spooking another child on the street into crying because they thought they'd seen a ghost. He's the one who works hard, who sticks to his regimen, who never crosses the lines he's drawn for himself, sticking within the confines of rules and propriety.
He's the one that cares.
You—you don't give two shits about whether you do well or not, but you still somehow just win.
And the worst thing is that you don't even seem like you're aware of this game you're playing. You're just swinging through life with no stress and still acing every bit of it.
Sungho loathes it, but because he has ulterior motives (he's not evil, he swears), he plants the best and sugar-sweetest smile he can muster and calls for you. “Y/N, hey!” He grins, waving at you. “I saved you a spot.”
Your shoes scuff on the tiles as you stop walking to stare at him in confusion, a hint of a knot at your forehead. Then your eyes move from him to the empty space he's gesturing at next to him. “Huh?”
“Come on!” he chimes happily (he's dying inside). “I won't bite.” (Oh yes he will, he so will.)
There's hesitation in your movements, but you've always been too shy to say no, he is aware of that and is shameless enough to monopolise on that fact.
The second you sit down, you have stepped into the devil’s territory. Poor, poor you. Unaware of his clever schemes, totally clueless that you're about to hand over that first place as though under a spell. Because, guess what, Park Sungho, while the perfect student, is also a perfect campus heart-throb. He's shot many an unsuspecting passerby with the cupid's arrow, doing nothing but existing in all his angelic, golden haired (dye-job but it counts, okay?), feline-natured glory.
He just has to distract you with his manly wiles until you forget how to study. That's the plan.
“Oops,” he says as soon as you sit down to prepare for the class, checking your watch for when the professor will arrive. Other students have already started flocking in. “Ah, I think I dropped a pen,” Sungho feigns innocence, searching the floor for the pen he'd discreetly flung down a minute ago.
“Oh!” You’re immediately eager to help, shooting a hand down to scamper for his pen.
But Sungho is clever; he does the same thing, and before your fingers can grab hold of the pen, his palm grazes yours, sending a tingle up your skin.
You slowly look up, and he does too, leading from the point where you touch to the gentle dips of your cheek, then to the sparkle in your eyes.
Your eyes sparkle? That's new information...
“Uh,” he whispers accidentally, but is quick to reel it back with a small cough and a polite smile. “Thanks.” He crinkles his eyes on purpose.
He’s expecting you to blush. Or flounder for words awkwardly or topple over with the shock of how pretty he is.
Unfortunately, none of those scenarios happen. You actually shoot him a blinding smile and return right back to your seat, opening up your work.
And…
Sungho is the one to sit there flabbergasted at the turn of events. Because he hadn't expected you to be nice like that.
Or for your smile to be so…pretty.
Ew, no—! No no no, he does not think your smile is pretty, he’d meant to think petty—that’s it! Ha ha… Yeah…
Ahem.
It doesn't end there, he hasn't forgotten his mission to capture your heart just yet. There are still steps and sub-steps to follow, and he will do just that. A momentary lapse of his brain is nothing that can hold him back.
So he doubles down on the efforts in the coming days: he brings you an extra cup of coffee for the 8 AM lectures, he offers to hold your bag for you when he sees you roll your shoulders with a pained sigh, he even brings a hairclip for you on the days you forget to brush your hair and need to keep it out of your eyes.
It's a little counterproductive maybe—your focus definitely improves when you're hydrated and taken care of—but he is playing the long game here. A tiny lift of your spirits before it eventually plummets into the depths of hell, right into his opportunistic hands.
You don't blush still, but you smile a lot more. When he gets you a slice of strawberry cake as a sweet treat after a test, you return the favour by paying for lunch. You eat together now, Jaehyun needing to find a new eating buddy because Sungho cannot get distracted by his dumb jokes while he's seducing you into failing. He splits his free time into studying, drawing up new and exciting methods to befriend you even further, and then preparing for these mini hangouts he's orchestrated.
Everything is going swimmingly well.
Step 2: Do not—absolutely never ever—get sidetracked.
The ice cream shop is a quaint building at the corner of campus, with white bricks for walls and vanilla circling the air. The ideal spot for a romantic endeavour.
And Sungho is deviously romantic, of course. He's still stuck below you on the rank sheet, but the gap isn't all that big. It doesn't hurt him the same anymore. Just makes him determined to knock you off your throne.
“Hmm…which flavour?” you ask, blinking at the shiny glass display holding a trillion different shades of ice cream.
Sungho has to be a gentleman. So he says, “Anything you choose,” and he does it with a soft smile and lovesick eyes. (He practiced that morning in the mirror and almost fell in love with himself; it's a guaranteed trap.)
Your face breaks out in a happy grin, hair loosely falling along your cheek. It's a nice view—he has to admit—for how long he's known you from afar all these years, it's strange to see you up this close, with a smile that's admittedly very beautiful in the objective, factual, scientific sense. He's only agreeing with the voice in his head because he is after all, a scientific man, not for any other reason.
Eventually you settle on a rocky road (he'd predicted this to be honest, you've got a raging sweet tooth), and end up with a wonky cone with two scoops bulging out of it.
“You really like it, huh?” he chuckles at the way you eat it like a little kid would, with stars in your eyes.
You nod shyly, twirling it around in your hand. “It's yummy. I had it a lot while I used to pull all-nighters in high school.”
“Yeah? Is that why you'd show up in the morning looking like a bird made a nest in your hair?” he teases, and he's met with a pout that makes him laugh at your reaction. “Sorry, sorry, just kidding. It wasn't that bad.” He holds his hands up in surrender, still grinning.
It's a slow morning. There aren't any classes until noon, and the air is thick with the scent of spring—birds singing up on treetops, the lawn plush and green with rose bushes lining the curbs. Perfect romantic weather for a romantic scheme.
Sungho is savouring the cup of vanilla in his hand when he looks up to see a tiny spot of brown at the corner of your lips.
You haven't noticed yet, too engrossed in your own ice cream, and well—he tells himself it's just the messiness of it that bothers him. Not the way it mars your nice lips, no way. And his hand just moves on its own because he's always had a good instinct for cleanliness, not because he wants to touch you.
But your eyes widen just the tiniest amount when soft skin thumbs at your face, swiping away the sweetness there. He watches closely, watches every minor change in your expression—the soft blinks, the stillness of your breathing, the way you have a gentle pink running up your cheeks.
His brain wants to scream jackpot! It wants to celebrate the victory of getting you to blush, of finally tripping you over into his metaphoric claws.
But…
But why the fuck is his own face also heating up like a furnace?!
He feels like he has a fever, a terrible affliction that causes his heart to run a mile a minute and for his mouth to stop working. Was he dying? Was he going insane?
His thoughts only come to a swerving stop when you regard him with a sunny smile and say, “Thanks.”
Thanks for what, really? He wonders. But he's quick to bury those complicated musings in favour of changing a steady mantra of ‘remember the plan, the plan, the plan, the plan—’, until he tunnel-visions and sees nothing but the score sheet pinned up on the bulletin in front of the lecture hall.
Sungho does not stop until he's back in the safety of his dorm, having faked a stomach ache to run here before his next class—until he's splattered water into his face and climbed into bed without even changing out of his outside clothes, like a madman. Today marks the first day he's ever skipped a class.
But it’s of no help at all, because he still ends up having a nightmare of your face giddy with happiness, and he burns like a fire the whole time he dreams.
Step 3: Sympathy is for losers. Do not ever take pity on your enemy; it's a trap.
The score sheet flutters from the draft through the window, the pale sun cutting dull lines across your name, and his right below.
Sungho tightens his fist, his jaw clenched in fury. At himself, not at anyone else. He's tried to do it this time, really pushed himself beyond what he thought was even possible. But it's of no avail when you've managed to secure the top marks again.
“Oh,” he hears your voice from behind him, a small sound that he only picks up through the ruckus of students from how often he spends listening to it these days.
When he turns back, he expects you to smile at him, maybe even give him a victory hug the way you do these days. But all he sees is the thin line of your mouth and the empty void in your stare. And…tears?
“Hey,” he begins, instinctively on edge from worry. He doesn't even make it to you before you've schooled your expression into apathy, a robotic reaction so different from what he'd just caught a glimpse of before. He pushes forward anyways. “Come with me,” he says softly, wrapping a hand around your wrist and getting you through the crowd.
You follow him quietly until he's found an empty lecture room, closing the door behind him and leading you over to the elevated stage in front.
“Look at me,” he coaxes, gently bringing your gaze to meet his, with a soft palm guiding your cheek. “What's up, hm?”
“Nothing.”
It's a typical answer he'd have expected from you maybe some months ago and wouldn't have back an eye at back then. But now—now it feels odd. Like you're hiding so much and he’s only learnt to read past your mask, still in the process of figuring the meaning behind your little quirks.
He knows you fiddle with pencils when you're nervous, that you twirl your hair when you're shy, the way you sometimes space out into distances when you're pondering something, when you're digesting a paragraph before it makes sense to you. And now, there's a tension in your shoulder that he knows is none of those things.
“You can tell me anything, I won't judge,” he says, and it sounds true to his own ears for once. For once, he isn't lying.
You open your mouth to deny, but you must be holding a lot in that a sharp, pained gasp escapes instead, and years begin to well up past your waterline before you've readied yourself to fight it.
“I—” you try, and it tapers off into a choked sound when Sungho’s palms hold you with even more tenderness. “I’m not…I don't deserve it,” you confess into the air like it's a secret you've kept forever.
It doesn’t make complete sense to Sungho, but the one thing that he can say with his whole heart now is that if there is anyone that deserves all the good things in the world, it’s you. He’s been looking your way forever now—how could he not see how much soul you pour into your work… How dedicated you are and how diligent you are. He’s been envious of that talent of yours to absorb material like you’ve breathed in all the details and then recollected every bit of it on a test paper, but right now, he can only admit that it doesn’t just sprout from nowhere—you’ve honed that skill to perfection by working hard.
“You do,” he disagrees gently, brushing the corner of your lashes with his thumb. “You deserve all of it.”
“I don’t even know what I’m doing…I…” You sniffle. “I don’t want to complain, I feel like an ungrateful brat when I do.”
Sungho lets out a soft chuckle at your words. “You’re anything but that. You say sorry to furniture when you walk into them…and you always ask me questions more than you talk about yourself. Not an ungrateful bone in you, Y/N.”
“It’s just,” you suck in a breath, finally managing to stop the tears from flooding down your face, just for a second. “I keep working, over and over, day and night, but I don’t know why I do it…”
“Hm?”
“I just feel so…lost…sometimes.”
Oh.
Oh… Sungho realises a lot at that moment. Most of all, how he’d really chalked you up to be this superheroic entity that couldn’t feel more than just happiness and apathy. After all, you’re just a person. You’re just like him. Someone who is wandering life without having figured it all out.
“I try so hard but I never know what I’m doing it all for and…today I just…I don't know, it's so stupid,” you bite back your sobs,body quivering from how tightly you hold yourself together, afraid of breaking apart. “I don't even like seeing my name up there anymore. It just reminds me I’m faking it all.”
“Who cares?”
Your eyes flicker up to meet his, a little shocked, somewhat confused. “Huh?”
Sungho shakes his head at how cute you look, all red and puffy-cheeked. “Who cares if you're faking it or not? I'm proud of you for getting that top spot again, and you should be too. I like how smart you are and how capable you are and how you never let it get to your head,” he says softly, in a voice reserved just for you. “Couldn’t be me.”
His funny smirk pulls an unexpected laugh out of you, even though it's tinged with the remnants of your tears. “Hey, look at that, you're laughing!” he teases, pushing your hair out of the way to get a better look at your pout. “How could someone so smart be so cute… It's unfair, honestly.”
It's too late when he realises he's said the last part out. It only occurs to him when you reply with, “You're only saying that because you're my boyfriend.”
…
Sungho stops breathing.
Huh…?
Boyfriend?
You're unaware of how wide his eyes have gotten and how he resembles a fish letting out bubbles through its mouth right now. “I actually have thought of giving up this whole thing y’know—drop out of school and waste everything I’ve worked towards, because sometimes it feels like a race with no end and I’m just moving because I have to…” You press your forehead against this chest, leaving wet splotches of tears on his shirt. “But seeing you study with so much ambition…it makes me want to try just as hard. I like that we're always together on the grade sheets. It's not as hard when I’m not alone.”
And fuck, oh fuck, Sungho is late to so many realisations today. For someone who prides himself on his brilliance, he is so, so stupid.
“I'm your boyfriend,” he says out loud, the factual truth of the universe. “You're my girlfriend.”
The sun rises in the east. It sets in the west. Myung Jaehyun is annoying. The outings you go on are not schemes—they’re dates—the very real kind. You are smart. You are his girlfriend. Objective truths that not even his mouth has an argument for.
“Yeah,” you look up at him, all the wonders of the world shining in your eyes. God, you're so pretty. He's blushing like the embarrassment he is, completely ashamed that it's taken so long for him to figure this out. “Aren't we?” you ask.
Beyond all the shameful musings, Sungho is not one to let go of a good thing that's happened to him. He's not an ungrateful idiot, just an obvious one.
“We are,” he nods feverishly, matching the red of your skin. “I'm so happy that we are. I don't even care that you beat me to pulp on our exams anymore.”
This garners a giggle from you; you probably think he's joking, but he's dead serious when he says it. He doesn't give two shits that the scheme has backfired and instead of making you fall for him, he's done the exact opposite. And maybe, maybe he's been in love for as long as he's known you—just that he'd taken his unending interest in you as spite and not what it really was. A crush. A stupid, one-sided crush he’d never managed to put out.
“We haven't even had our first kiss though,” he ends up blurting out, watching you melt into his hands.
You must be dead set on surprising him today, because even though he comments with no intention to coax you into one, you pull him closer to press your lips against his, a clumsy but sweet kiss landing against the corner of his mouth. It's so quick, but it still manages to pull a whimper out of him.
“Now we have,” you reply, coy and soft.
“That was just a victory kiss. For demolishing the exams again,” he tosses back. “Give me another.”
“For what?”
“For buying you ice cream all the time, duh.”
He half expects you to push him away, but in a second, your lips are back on his, slower than before. He takes it as a sign to return the favour, and the classroom melts away in your peripheries.
In his head, Sungho makes a correction to the principles he's lived by until now, scratching out his not-so-successful plan with an imaginary red pen—because Park Sungho is no longer just a man of routine, he's a man in love.
Step 3: Sympathy is for losers. Do not ever take pity on your enemy; it's a trap.
And then, in its place, he makes a correction—a reminder for future-Sungho. Something like a promise.
Step 3: Fall in love with your rival. Then ask her to marry you one day.
He seals it with another kiss.
a/n: hope this was a fun little read for everyone and that it warms your heart/made it laugh as much as it made me happy to write it. for everyone dealing with exams right now, remember to take it easy and know that things always end in happiness despite the road-bumps you may experience on the way. and for fae, i hope you don't stress yourself out too much because we're all rooting for you and will be there for you whenever you want to unload your worries <33
warnings: use of alcohol, drunk kissing, slight fear of rejection
a/n: finally finished this (after days of it side-eyeing me) sorry if it feels rushed 😔
It’s the middle of the night—3 a.m. exactly—when your phone starts ringing and drags you violently out of sleep. The sound slices through the quiet of your apartment, sharp and insistent, vibrating against the wooden surface of your bedside table. You groan into your pillow, disoriented and irritated, eyes still half-closed as you roll over and fumble blindly for the device. Your fingers knock over a hair tie and brush the lamp before finally closing around your phone.
“What idiot is calling me at this hour.” you mutter, your voice thick with sleep and annoyance.
You squint at the screen, ready to decline the call without hesitation, but the name glowing back at you wipes the irritation clean off your face.
Jaehyun.
Your best friend.
Sleep evaporates instantly. Your body goes rigid as your mind leaps to a dozen catastrophic possibilities. He never calls this late. Not unless something is wrong. Your heart begins to pound so loudly you’re sure you can hear it in your ears as you swipe to answer.
“Jae?” you breathe, already sitting upright. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?”
There’s a pause on the other end, just long enough for panic to bloom in your chest.
And then—
He giggles.
Actually giggles.
“I’m outside the bar,” he slurs, his voice loose and syrupy. There’s a soft hiccup in between his words. “It’s cold. They kicked us out ‘cause it got late, and the guys said I should call you. I told them you were sleeping, pretty girl, but they insisted. I’m sorry.”
Relief crashes over you so suddenly your shoulders sag with it. He’s not hurt. He’s not bleeding. He’s not stranded somewhere dangerous.
He’s just drunk.
Very, very drunk.
You press a hand to your forehead and exhale shakily. “Which bar?”
There’s dramatic groaning on the other end, as if you’ve asked him to solve advanced calculus instead of read a sign.
“Hold on,” he mutters, and you can practically picture him squinting at something. “The—Blue Lounge.” He reads it slowly, over-enunciating each word like a child. Then he snorts. “Stupid name. There isn’t even a lounge.”
Despite yourself, a small laugh escapes you as you push your blankets aside and swing your legs over the bed. The floor is cold beneath your feet, but your nerves are buzzing too loudly for you to care. You flick on your bedside lamp and reach for the first warm hoodie you can find.
“Stay where you are,” you instruct firmly. “I mean it. Don’t move.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies solemnly, and then giggles again like the order itself is the funniest thing he’s ever heard.
You hang up, already tugging on sweatpants and shoving your feet into sneakers. You grab your keys, your wallet, and your phone charger out of habit before heading for the door, typing the bar’s name into Google Maps as you get into your car. Thankfully, it’s not far. Ten minutes, maybe less.
The streets are nearly empty at this hour. Streetlights cast long golden reflections on the pavement, and the city feels strangely hushed, like it’s holding its breath. You drive a little faster than you probably should, your thoughts racing despite knowing he’s fine. The image of him sitting somewhere cold and unsteady makes your chest ache in a way you don’t examine too closely.
When you turn onto the bar’s street, you spot him immediately.
Jaehyun is sitting on the pavement outside, his back against the brick wall, shoulders hunched against the night air. His head tips back lazily as if he’s studying the sky. Leehan and Riwoo linger nearby, both swaying slightly in place, and Mei stands between them with the exhausted patience of someone who did not sign up to babysit three grown men.
You park quickly and step out of the car. The cool air bites at your cheeks as you approach.
Mei’s eyes find you first, and relief washes over her face. “You’re a lifesaver,” she says, shoving Leehan gently toward her car. “They were about to start singing.”
“Oh no,” you murmur.
“It was tragic,” she confirms. “Drive safe, okay?”
“You too.”
She manages to wrangle Leehan and Riwoo into her car with surprising efficiency, leaving you alone with your particular disaster.
“Jae,” you call softly.
His head snaps up at the sound of your voice. For a moment, he just stares at you as if making sure you’re real. Then recognition dawns, and his entire face lights up. The grin that spreads across his features is wide, unguarded, almost childlike in its delight.
“Pretty girl,” he breathes reverently. “You came.”
The way he says it makes your heart do something traitorous in your chest.
“Of course I did,” you reply, stepping closer.
He attempts to stand and nearly topples sideways. You lunge forward on instinct, sliding an arm around his waist to steady him. He’s heavier than he looks, his weight sagging into you without hesitation, like he trusts you entirely to keep him upright. The scent of alcohol hits you full force, mixed with his cologne and something distinctly him.
“Jeez,” you mutter. “How much did you drink? You smell like a winery.”
He squints at you seriously and holds his fingers an inch apart. “Only this much.”
“Liar.”
He leans further into you, his forehead almost knocking against yours, and presses a sloppy kiss to the side of your head. “My pretty girl,” he murmurs again, the words warm against your temple.
“Okay, that’s enough,” you protest, trying to maneuver him toward the car while dodging his attempts to pepper your face with more kisses. “You’re going to be mortified when you remember this.”
“Sober me is boring,” he informs you gravely.
Getting him into the backseat is an ordeal that involves a lot of negotiation and one very dramatic complaint about gravity. You manage to buckle him in without him hitting his head on the doorframe, then rush around to the driver’s seat before he decides to unbuckle himself for fun.
The drive back is filled with his soft humming. He stares out the window like the passing streetlights are the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. At one point, he leans forward between the seats.
“You’re really pretty,” he says with absolute sincerity.
“You’ve said that already.”
“I know,” he replies. “Just making sure you don’t forget.”
Your fingers tighten slightly on the steering wheel.
Back at your apartment, the real challenge begins. You half-carry him inside, his arm slung heavily around your shoulders, his steps uneven and unpredictable. He laughs at nothing in particular as you fumble with your keys and finally get the door open.
The moment you guide him to the couch, he drops onto it with a dramatic sigh, sprawling across the cushions as if he’s run a marathon instead of spent the night drinking.
The second you step away to grab him water, his fingers hook stubbornly into the hem of your shirt.
“Don’t go, pretty girl.”
“I’m getting water,” you reassure him gently, prying his hand loose. “I’ll be right back.”
He watches you like you might vanish if he blinks.
When you return, he’s leaning so far to one side that he looks seconds away from sliding onto the floor. You set the glass down and guide him upright, your hand steady at his shoulder.
“Drink,” you instruct.
He obeys without argument, sipping slowly until he’s satisfied. A small drop of water escapes the corner of his mouth, and you wipe it away absentmindedly with your thumb. His eyes follow the movement with surprising focus.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, softer now.
You nod, about to step back, when his hand closes around your wrist.
Before you can react, he tugs gently. You lose your balance and stumble forward, bracing your hands on the couch beside his shoulders. Your knee presses into the cushion between his legs to keep yourself from falling completely.
And then his lips are on yours.
For a split second, everything stops.
The room, the air, the sound of your own breathing—it all vanishes.
Jaehyun is kissing you.
Your best friend is kissing you.
Your brain short-circuits. You freeze, heart slamming against your ribs. His lips are warm and clumsy, tasting faintly of mint and alcohol. He kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, like he’s been waiting and finally lost the restraint to hold back.
But he’s drunk.
You pull away carefully, your breath shaky. “Jae, you’re drunk.”
He follows your movement, chasing your mouth. “Let me,” he whispers. “Please.”
“Jae,” you say more firmly, pressing your palm lightly against his chest to create space. “No.”
Something shifts in his expression at your tone. The playful drunken haze dims. His features soften, and what remains isn’t mischievous or reckless.
It’s vulnerable.
“I need you to listen to me,” he says quietly. His words are still slightly slurred, but there’s a clarity underneath them now. “I know I’m drunk. But I’m not lying.”
Your throat tightens.
“I’ve liked you for so long it actually hurts,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “I tried to ignore it. I told myself it was just comfort. Just habit. Just you being you.” He lets out a weak, humorless laugh. “But every time you talk about another guy, something in me twists. And I stand there smiling like it’s fine because I’d rather suffer quietly than lose you.”
The confession lands heavily between you.
“You’re my favorite person,” he says. “My safest place. I didn’t want to ruin that. I was terrified that if I told you, you’d step back. That I’d see distance in your eyes where there’s always been warmth.”
His grip on your wrist loosens, as if he’s afraid of holding you too tightly now.
“But pretending got harder,” he admits. “Every day. The more I tried to stop liking you, the more I realized I don’t want to stop. I don’t want less. I want more. I want you. Not just as my best friend. Not just as my person at three in the morning. I want to be the one you choose. Sober. Fully aware. Every day.”
Your heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of your chest.
“You don’t mean that,” you whisper, because believing him feels too dangerous.
“I do,” he insists softly. “And if you don’t feel the same, just don’t disappear on me. Reject me gently. But don’t take yourself away.”
Silence stretches long and fragile.
“Tomorrow,” you manage finally, your voice trembling. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. When you’re sober.”
He studies your face like he’s memorizing it, then nods slowly. “Okay.”
Exhaustion crashes into him suddenly. You help him lie back properly, slipping his shoes off and tucking a blanket around his shoulders. Within minutes, his breathing evens out, deep and steady.
Only then do you allow yourself to fall apart.
He likes you.
And the terrifying, beautiful truth is that you like him too.
You sit on the edge of the couch for a long time, staring at his sleeping face. Memories flood your mind in relentless waves: late-night study sessions, inside jokes, the way he always walks on the outside of the sidewalk, how he remembers your coffee order without asking. All the moments that felt charged but were never acknowledged now glow with new meaning.
You don’t sleep much that night.
Morning arrives far too quickly, sunlight spilling through your curtains in unforgiving brightness. You wake with your heart already racing, the events of the night replaying in vivid detail.
You stall.
You shower slowly. You tidy your bedroom. You make your bed with unnecessary precision. You wipe down the kitchen counter even though it’s already clean. Anything to delay facing him.
Eventually, there’s nothing left to reorganize.
When you step into the living room, he’s awake, sitting upright on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees. His hair is tousled, his expression thoughtful rather than embarrassed.
“How’s your head?” you ask, keeping your voice neutral.
“Killing me,” he admits.
You hand him painkillers and a fresh glass of water. He thanks you quietly and swallows them without complaint. The silence between you isn’t awkward exactly, but it’s heavy with everything unsaid.
He sets the glass down and pats the space beside him.
“Sit,” he says gently.
Your stomach flips, but you do.
He turns to face you fully. There’s no teasing smile. No drunken haze. Just steady, unwavering eye contact.
“I remember everything,” he says.
Your breath catches.
“And I meant it.”
The certainty in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.
“I’m not asking you to answer me right now,” he continues carefully. “I just need you to know it wasn’t the alcohol talking. It was me. I’ve loved you quietly for a long time. And I’m done pretending I don’t.”
The room feels smaller somehow.
“Do you regret telling me?” you ask softly.
“No,” he says immediately. “I regret waiting so long.”
The sincerity in his expression makes your chest ache.
Silence settles again, fragile and full.
“You idiot,” you murmur finally.
His brows lift slightly in confusion.
“I like you too.”
The words leave your mouth in a rush, but once they’re out, they feel right. Terrifying, exposing but true.
For the first time since you’ve known him, Jaehyun looks completely stunned.
“You do?”
“Yes,” you whisper. “I was just as scared of ruining us.”
Relief washes over his face so visibly it nearly steals the air from the room. His shoulders drop, tension draining from his body as he lets out a shaky breath.
“Can I?” he asks softly, gesturing faintly between you.
This time, he’s sober. This time, he waits.
You nod.
He leans closer slowly, giving you every opportunity to change your mind. His hand lifts to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently along your skin as if grounding himself. There’s no rush in him now. No recklessness. Just quiet intention.
When his lips meet yours, it’s soft. Warm. Certain.
You kiss him back.
It isn’t desperate or messy. It’s steady and deliberate, built from months—maybe years—of laughter, comfort, and almost-confessions. It feels like crossing a line you’ve both been standing at for far too long.
His other hand finds yours, fingers intertwining naturally, like they’ve done it a thousand times before in every way except this one.
When you finally pull away, your foreheads rest together, breaths mingling in the small space between you. Neither of you moves immediately. There’s no need to.
He smiles then, that familiar teasing spark slowly returning to his eyes.
“So,” he murmurs lightly, “does this mean I still get to call you pretty girl?”
You huff out a quiet laugh, your heart impossibly full.
“Only if you’re sober.”
His grin widens.
“Good,” he whispers. “Because I plan on saying it a lot.”
Full time party girl, part time daughter. MASTERLIST
In which: Bruce Waynes daughter, Y/N Wayne is a full time party girl. Club hopper, party animal, hedonist. Whatever you want to call it. To full the void her father left, she turns to nightclubs, dingy bars and basement raves.
But when Bruce Wayne finds his daughter in an alleyway, half dead and delirious, he decides something has to change.
Part One- The party
Prologue: Before the party
Chapter one: Club classics
Chapter two: Miss world
Chapter three: Sympathy is a knife
Chapter four: Awful
Chapter five: Talk Talk
Chapter six : Petals
Chapter seven: Stay Away
Chapter eight: Heaven Tonight
Chapter nine: I might say something stupid.
Chapter ten: Reasons to be beautiful.
Part Two- The After Party
Chapter eleven: If I get high
Moodboard: info on reader/ second moodboard
Playlist: Music/ little more info on each chapter / playlist submission 1 / playlist submission 2/ playlist submission 3 / playlist submission 4/ playlist submission 5/ playlist submission 6
Fanart: By MeowingMalleus/ By Princessceebee/ By Princessceebee (2)/ By 77sleepyfeline/ By itzamor/ By Nighttwink/ By Moosilala/ yourfavfae/ By cjshimlyn / By spookess/ By Justafank / Picrew from advline/ By Justafank (2)
