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dyaz-stories · 10 months ago

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casual (1) || gojo satoru x reader

chapter 1: i like the way you kiss me

synopsis: Getting recruited for a double position as a teacher for Jujutsu High in Tokyo and a strategist, tasked with assigning missions to sorcerers in the region is the perfect situation for you. It pays well, it's well regarded, and it's as safe as possible — by sorcerer standards, anyway.

There is one problem though, and his name is Gojo Satoru. The one who's supposed to collaborate with you and answer to you.

The one you can't keep your hands off...

word count: 9.5k

genre: 18+, friends with benefits to lovers, coworkers to lovers, canon divergence, smut, emotional slow burn but they fuck like rabbits

warnings/tags (chapter): fem!reader (she/her pronouns, reader is afab), takes place ~5 years before jjk0, teacher!reader, sorcerer!reader, canon-typical violence, mild angst, smut (semi-public sex, fingering [fem receiving], vaginal sex, sorta dom!gojo, corruption kink if you squint), mentioned slut shaming (not the sexy kind), gojo satoru is a little shit

A/N: This is quite the Behemoth of a first chapter, I'm sorry to say. I love really long chapters, but I can only hope you all do too and this isn't too intimidating! This is a fic I've had in mind for ages and finally got around to start an outline for and actually write it. There are actually a couple of drabbles here and there on my blog for this couple already, happening at various points of their relationship.

I really hope you will enjoy this first chapter!

‘Make use of Satoru Gojo however you see fit.’

Such are the first words spoken to you by the higher-ups, at the end of an exhausting recruitment process. You nod sharply at the instruction.

“Duly noted.”

Truth be told, you don’t see why they need to specify it. You had assumed that went without saying from the very beginning.

The job offer had, at first glance, been for a strategist who would work directly under the higher-ups for the region of Tokyo. Devising teams, advising the council, and assigning missions were supposed to be the main tasks you would have to fulfill.

‘Supposed’ because, when you were one of only three candidates left, the higher-ups had revealed that there was, in fact, a second role you would be expected to perform. One that you had not imagined would be available for decades.

A new teaching position at the Tokyo Jujutsu High School was opening up, though you couldn’t understand why for the life of you. You had no connection to the establishment yourself, having left Japan as a child and trained abroad your whole life, never returning for more than a couple of months at a time, yet you knew, as did the entirety of the sorcerer world, that Satoru Gojo had been appointed there less than a year before. Well, rumor had it that he had appointed himself, and you had to wonder if that was why they were keen to have a more… traditional teacher by his side, since firing him was an option.

In that case, your lack of ties to Satoru Gojo, Masamichi Yaga and to the Jujutsu Headquarters could explain why your name ended up being the last one on the ballot. You were the best placed to be an independent monitor.

The distorted voice keeps going, bringing you back to the present.

“Unless stated otherwise, always send him to battle first.”

You school your face so you do not let any emotion appear, though the statement surprises you. You have to assume that they don’t mean for any mission you receive, because that would be catastrophically ineffective. Then again, sending him on Grade 1 missions, if he is available, makes some sense.

“Report to us if you encounter difficulties with him,” the voice adds before falling silent without elaborating.

You understand, from the finality of their tone, that you have been dismissed, and bow your head, your movements polite and sober.

“Thank you for the trust you are placing in me. I will not disappoint you.”

“We know you won’t,” another sepulchral voice answers.

In the dark, candle-lit room, it sounds sinister enough to chill you to the bone. You wait just a second longer, in case something needs to be added, before turning on your heels and walking away. No one calls you back, and you’re more relieved about leaving the room than you would like to admit.

Outside, the summer sun is high and bright. You tilt your head backwards and close your eyes to let its rays warm your face. It will take a while before the cold instilled in you in that meeting room dissipates.

You’re expected in Jujutsu Tech by the end of August. Being a teacher there is as close to the ideal position as it gets, for a sorcerer. The pay is excellent, the risks minimal, and it commends great respect from the society at large. You have no doubt that, had the offer been for that position in the first place, numerous sorcerers far more qualified for teaching than you are would have thrown their hats in the ring. You wouldn’t have made it past the first interview.

You got lucky. Just this once, you’re going in the right direction.

You inhale deeply. For the first time in a long time, you no longer envision your life as an endless successions of missions, countries, and houses that never become homes.

For the first time in the long time, you think you have a future.

There is a spring in your step when you make your way down the stairs, away from this freezing place and the ghouls that haunt it.

Behind you, the Headquarters; ahead, Jujutsu Tech.

Masamichi Yaga is a cautious man. His handshake is warm and firm when he greets you, and though his voice is calm and steady as he guides you through the hallways of Jujutsu Tech, he remains evasive. He provides all the information you might need, answers any question you have when you ask them without missing a beat, and yet you can tell he is guarded, keeping you at arm’s length.

You cannot determine why that is with certainty, though you have a handful of hypotheses. It could just be that he isn’t used to the presence of strangers. Dealing with a total stranger is a rarity within sorcerer society, even more so in Japan. You doubt that he would know anyone who could talk about you, let alone vouch for you. You understand why that would make you a suspicious character.

Another option is that you were forced onto him as a member of his staff by the higher-ups, though you haven’t heard anything about that. With you being a complete outsider, he would not have any valid reason to outright reject your presence, not when his only teacher is frequently gone for days at a time, but that would not mean that he’d be pleased with it — or view you as trustworthy, for that matter.

The third possibility, of course, is that he just finds you off-putting.

‘Cold’, that’s how you are often described by the people around you. You don’t do it intentionally, but you also cannot pinpoint what it is that you do ‘wrong’. Something about your tone, your expressions, or lack thereof, your cold eyes, the way your mouth naturally curves downwards.

That and, of course, the trail of bad omens that you bring with you everywhere you go.

These don’t tend to be active problems when it comes to sorcerers. With normal humans, now, it’s a different story. Oh, there are exceptions, who find that this all makes you intriguing, but it typically makes it hard to build actual connections with other people. You wouldn’t normally care, but in a situation where you have to collaborate with others, you could see that becoming an issue.

You had seen that coming, of course — it wasn’t like it was new information to you. As a result, you had made sure to be on your very best behavior from the moment you’d stepped foot within Jujutsu Tech grounds. You had nodded with interest, you had reminded yourself to smile, you had asked all the right questions, and yet you could feel that you had not once managed to turn yourself into a likeable person.

Ah, well. Not being likeable would not stop you from doing your job right.

“I’ll introduce you to the rest of teaching staff,” Yaga announces, his voice deep, as he reaches a new door. His hand is hovering over the doorknob when he stills, turning to look at you. “Are you ready for this just now? They were both students here, but I assume this can all be overwhelming for a newbie.”

That is a kind sentiment.

“I’m okay.” Then, because answering in monosyllables is not what likeable people are supposed to do, you add: “I read the files available to familiarize myself with the school grounds before coming here.”

His eyebrows jump up behind his glasses, but it’s followed by a hearty chuckle.

“You’ve come prepared.” He nods, appreciative. “Good. It will be nice to have someone who takes their job seriously around here.”

You don’t have the time to question the sentence before he opens the door.

The room is small and reeks of cigarette smoke. In the middle of it, a desk, and behind it, sprawled on an elegant black chair, a white-haired man that you recognize at first glance. You let your eyes slide over him. You wouldn’t want to look too, um, curious, just yet.

The brown-haired woman with the long white coat who is perched on a window sill, doing her very best to look inconspicuous, is the one responsible for the smell. You identify her as Shoko Ieiri, school doctor and reverse cursed technique prodigy. Next to you, Yaga sighs.

“Shoko,” he protests with a paternal disapproval, “I thought you’d quit smoking?”

“I did,” she answers, staring at him, her eyes dark and tired, “and then I had to regrow a lung. Do you have any idea how much of a pain it is to regrow internal organs?”

A light laugh comes from the man in the middle of the room, and you consider that this gives you permission to look at him without coming off like you’re gawking.

He has his feet propped up on the desk, and he’s using them to push himself backwards in a precarious balance. White hair spills on the dark leather, long arms hang on both sides of the chair, and he hasn’t bothered to so much as glance in your direction so far — or at least, you don’t think he has, because white bandages are wrapped around his head, covering his eyes.

Even without being able to spot their signature blue, you know who he is. There isn’t one sorcerer in Japan, nor in the whole world, who doesn’t know his name.

Satoru Gojo, in the flesh.

“Maybe if you hadn’t cheated your way through medical school, it would be easier, don’t ya think?” he asks Ieiri with fond familiarity.

“Don’t—” Yaga takes two steps into the room, kicks the legs from underneath the chair. “—sit at my desk, Satoru.”

Effortlessly, Gojo jumps off the chair before it hits the floor and lands on his feet, facing Yaga. He is just as tall as the Principal, and from the wide grin on his face, it’s obvious that he is thrilled to have gotten a rise out of him.

“Then get me my own office already, what are you waiting for?”

“We’ll see which one of you gets an office first,” Yaga sniffs, and it doesn’t sound like Gojo is at the top of his list. “First, there is someone you need to meet.”

Ieiri has been observing you since you’ve walked into the room, not looking away when you had met her eyes. Yaga’s words have Gojo finally directing his attention to you, though, and something in the room shifts. You can’t see them, yet you know his eyes are on you, dissecting you and your cursed energy, collecting every possible bit of information on you. He walks past Yaga, burying his hands in his pockets as he approaches you. He has an easy smile placated on his lips, but you know when you’re being judged.

Behind him, both Ieiri and Yaga are still, tense. Yaga’s jaw is set, and Ieiri fiddles with a pack of cigarettes in her pocket, clearly itching for a new one. Ah, so this is the real test.

You don’t back off, staying rooted in your spot. He towers over you easily, and you have to tilt your head back just to look at him. You’d heard he was a handsome man, but you hadn’t expected it to be so obvious, even with the bandages on. He studies you, sharp jaw clenching, before the dazzling smile returns.

“Right! You’re the substitute teacher, aren’t you?”

His voice is light and airy, the previous tension completely absent from it. You blink.

“She will be teaching instead of you when you’re away on missions,” Yaga intervenes, “but that doesn’t make her a substitute. C’mon, Satoru, we’ve had this conversation already.”

On that last sentence, his voice turns into a threatening rumble.

“Sure, sure,” Gojo dismisses him without looking back, “and you’re the one who will be giving me missions as well, right?”

He keeps his tone cheerful, makes it sound like he’s just trying to have a conversation, but there is an edge in his voice, a bite. You cannot tell what he is trying to achieve with the question, though, or why he is being hostile, so you choose not to engage.

“Indeed,” you answer, bowing your head politely. “It is an honor to be meeting you all.” You make quick work of giving your name and briefly mentioning that you hadn’t grown up in Japan.

You’re met with silence, Gojo’s lips pressed together as he tries to read you. You do your very best not to give him anything to sink his teeth into.

“Your family’s known for their precognition, aren’t they?” Ieiri asks from the other side of the room.

“Foresight, yes”, you reply. Your answer is rehearsed, polished. Your family has somewhat of a reputation within the sorcerer world, but fortune tellers are a dime a dozen, even among non-sorcerers, and the results vary greatly — it’s not an ability that inspires trust, even for a legitimate sorcerer like you. You don’t wish to reveal too much of yourself just yet. “I look forward to working with you.”

A smile finally forms on her lips.

“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I won’t be seeing too much of you. Would be a shame if I had to patch you up. If you want to go out drinking though, just let me know. I know all the best bars in the city!”

“She does, and she’s banned from half of them,” Gojo chimes in. Now that his focus is back on her, his tone is softer; teasing, still, but no longer harsh. “She could use an actual designated driver instead of exploiting her kouhais though, don’t you think, Shoko?”

She laughs at that, sincerely, her eyes creasing.

“Fuck you, Gojo,” she answers fondly.

“I apologize for these two,” Yaga says, wincing at the coarse language. “We’re very happy to have you here. I’m sure it will do the kids some good, having someone serious to take after.”

“Hurtful,” Gojo protests, pouting. “They’re good kids,” he adds, directing his attention back to you. He sounds proud now, no trace of his earlier defiance left. “They’ll be great soon. They just need a little push to get there.”

At that, you nod.

“Of course. I’ll do my very best to help them on that path.”

There is a second, between the moment when you finish speaking and the moment when a wide smile splits his face. In that second, his lips part, and you feel his eyes plunge into you, digging into the very core of your being. He doesn’t look pleased. No, he is sizing you up, and you doubt you measure up to his expectations as well as you should. You’re the only one facing him, though, and when he smiles, just a little too late, it all vanishes like it never happened.

“Good to hear! As long as that’s the case, I’m sure everything will go smoothly.”

It’s said differently, but it’s as threatening as the higher-ups’ last words to you. Still, behind Gojo, Yaga heaves a relieved sigh and exchanges a look with Ieiri that tells you just how worried he’d been about your arrival. To him, it looks like the situation is resolved.

“Why don’t we all go and get a drink together to welcome you properly, if we’re done here?” he asks, walking over and slapping Gojo in the back.

“Sounds good to me,” Ieiri hums.

“As long as we go somewhere with good desserts, I’m in,” Gojo declares, intertwining his fingers at the back his head.

“You better be, Satoru,” Yaga grumbles, “you’re paying.”

“Not sure the Gojo clan has enough money for your appetite,” he sighs dramatically, “but I mean, I can try.” Then, eyeing you, “You coming or what?”

“Of course,” you say, swallowing around the unexpected knot in your throat. “Thank you for having me.”

You follow them cautiously, keeping quiet as the banter continues, hands held behind your back, observing. You had not expected to feel welcome here. You could have done without Gojo’s strange hostility, but with your track record, you had expected far worse.

“Let me know if Satoru makes your life harder, alright? I’ll talk some sense into him,” Ieiri tells you, placing a cigarette between her lips.

“And I’ll beat it into him if I have to,” Yaga adds, snatching it from Ieiri’s mouth and crumpling it between his fingers.

“I’d love to see you try,” Gojo grins.

“Noted,” you answer, “but I’m sure everything will be fine.”

This last part is a lie. Even as he’s joking around with everyone, you know he is still observing you, courtesy of the Six Eyes, watching your every move, waiting to find a fault somewhere so he can figure out what to do with you. You can’t blame him. You will be the one sending him into action, after all, even if the higher-ups would review missions assigned to grade 1 sorcerers and special grade sorcerers. Of course he’d need some time to figure out whether or not you’re trustworthy.

Not that his opinion on the subject matters to you. You’re not the type of person who needs other to like you. You don’t even need him to trust you. All he has to do is let you do your job.

Everything else is futile.

It is no surprise that the first few weeks at your job are slow. The end of summer and the beginning of fall are always quiet periods for sorcerers, and as a result, you don’t have many missions to hand out just yet. The few, low-level ones available in Tokyo are systematically claimed by Gojo before you can look into them, as training for his students.

“Kids gotta learn somehow, right?” he tells you with a grin the first time it happens.

He’s just waltzed into your classroom and he’s leaning over the desk, elbow conveniently resting on the mission files. You try not to think about how brazenly handsome he is right now, even when he is openly provoking you. You stare at his bandages, right where his eyes must be. He may be smiling at you, but there is no sincerity behind it, no joy, and that wasn’t really a question.

You shrug.

“Alright.”

The smile falters.

“Yeah? That’s alright with you?”

“Certainly. If you think these are good exercises for them, and if you plan on being there to supervise them, I don’t see any issue with it. Just return the files if there are any they can’t clear, and I’ll transfer them to the appropriate person.”

He tilts his head. Watching. Assessing.

“You should join us!” he exclaims cheerfully, smile back in its place, clapping his hands together. “The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?”

Oookay. He is testing you. The infuriating part of that is, you have no idea what he is testing you for, what he wants you to display — or fail to display. Trying to see if you’re good enough of a teacher? You have nothing to prove here, certainly not to someone who has been on the job for such a short time. Then again, you don’t see any harm in humoring him.

“No problem. Just let me know when you intend to take care of them, and I’ll be there.”

His smile widens, but you’re not sure if it means you’ve succeeded or failed his test.

“Good,” he hums. “I’ll be taking that, then.”

In one swift movement, he retrieves the files from your desk, and he walks away with them before you can say anything.

You roll your eyes — this whole song and dance are so unnecessary — but you don’t see any reason to stop him, so you just watch him leave. You catch him stopping in the doorway, turning back to look at you. The smile is still dancing on his face, all edge and teeth.

“You’re not what I expected.”

You stare at him just a moment longer, brow furrowing, before he vanishes and you’re left with nothing to look at.

‘Not what he expected’. You turn the sentence over in your mind a couple of times, trying to conjure up an image, a personality that would fit better for the role you’re supposed to play, but nothing comes up. You have two roles: teaching the future generation of sorcerers, and assigning missions. If doing one task can facilitate the other, there is no reason not to do it — and you find it even harder to comprehend why he wouldn’t have expected you to do just that.

You shake your head, willing his words out of your mind. You’ve never felt the need to meet anyone’s expectations, so why should you start now?

Taking kids to a cemetery for a mission seems in poor taste, but that’s not what you tell Gojo when he announces it as his first choice.

“The mission is for a number of grade four curses and a couple grade three,” you state instead, “but considering the spot, it’s likely more powerful ones went unnoticed. Are you sure that’s appropriate for first-years?”

“Well,” he answers, hands casually in his pockets, towering over you with all his height, “it will be good to see how adaptable they are and their abilities in the face of danger. Plus, they’ll have two guardian angels looking after them, won’t they?”

There’s that toothy smile again.

You still don’t know what it means.

“As long as you’re here, it will be fine, I guess” is what you end up answering him with a shrug.

This time, he doesn’t say anything as he leaves, doesn’t stop to look at you.

You suspect that you said exactly what he was expecting from you.

Contrary to popular belief, cemeteries don’t typically harbor powerful curses. The smaller ones are numerous, born out of loss and grief, but the bodies of non-sorcerers don’t take the pain they endured with them in the grave. They leave it all over their houses, leaking through the walls and ceilings, seeping through the cracks in the floor, cursing their loved ones.

Cemeteries remain clean.

The exception to that rule is a notable one. In any place where cursed energy accumulates for long enough, there is a risk for it to congregate to the point where strong curses can emerge. This slow growth means they learn to better hide themselves, and it makes them harder to spot and eliminate. In an ideal world, there would be a sorcerer expedition every other decade to ensure nothing big can develop, but sorcerer numbers being what they are, that is impossible to ensure. There is also a high likelihood that it would be useless anyway, a waste of time and resources, far too much firepower for the bunch of fly heads sorcerers would find.

Still, you keep an eye on the three, baby-faced first years, and chew on the inside of your cheek as they start to make their way through the alleys.

You don’t like this.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” Gojo says lightly, next to you. “You’re a grade one sorcerer, aren’t you? There’s nothing more powerful than that here. I’d know it if there was.”

“My evaluation took place in Europe. I don’t know if I would have ranked that high, had I taken it here.”

“Aw, c’mon, if even you think you’re that weak, who’s going to believe you’re strong?”

The sentence surprises a chuckle out of you. A grade two sorcerer is nothing to turn your nose at, but you can’t say you’re shocked that the Satoru Gojo would equate that status to weakness. He is so far off the scale that he would break it altogether if it wasn’t for the convenient, murky ‘special grade’ title.

You look at him, find him already turned in your direction. His lips are parted in surprise. You don’t realize it, but you have somehow managed the feat of getting Gojo’s undivided attention. The Six Eyes are focused on you, dissecting you, taking you in. This is— new. People are predictable. It’s not always a bad thing, though it gets a little boring. You— you keep catching him off guard while doing things that seem completely natural to you.

For once, you’re the one who is smiling, and he’s stunned into silence.

“It doesn’t matter to me, whether or not people think I’m strong. All I care about is—”

Teeth reflected in a pupil. Muscles like lead. A hand raised in defense. Flesh that turns into mist, there one second, gone the next. Clicks like a laugh, coming from behind. ‘Morino Iori — 1954-2010’, splattered with blood. A curse with its head thrown back, an arm coming out of its open mouth, disappearing when it swallows. Tears dripping down from the chin to the ground, barely diluting the puddle of blood that has formed there.

The rest of your sentence is lost when you turn around and take off running.

There is a string of cursed energy pulling you in the right direction, one that found its way to you, one that the cursed technique engraved in your brain knew how to decode. You’re old enough not to question it, not to struggle with the vision, and following it comes as a second nature. Just as you get there, you see Sota rounding the corner slowly, looking around, squinting, searching for something he isn’t finding. Your fingers close around the weapon at your waist, withholding your cursed energy — for now.

To a non-sorcerer, you would appear to be holding nothing but a stick. A sorcerer would know it’s a cursed weapon, though most would not be able to figure out its use.

At least, not until the curse emerges from the fog, only two steps behind Sota. In a flash, you let cursed energy irrigate your weapon, and a blade of sheer energy appears. The stick is now a scythe.

It’s in poor taste, in a cemetery, but you don’t linger on that.

You’re between the boy and the curse before he can turn around. The curse’s abilities must allow it to hide its presence, would allow it to disappear back into nothingness a mere moment after the kill, but you don’t give it the opportunity to do that. The scythe cuts through it like butter, splitting it in two. The two halves haven’t yet hit the ground that you’ve already lowered your weapon, emptying it from cursed energy as soon as you’re done.

“Are you okay?” you ask Sota, turning around to face him as you anchor it back to your waist.

“Um,” he says. He doesn’t look scared, just mildly surprised. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“What happened to seeing his abilities in the face of danger?”

You bite your lip, glancing at Gojo. He is standing atop a headstone, balancing without any struggle and watching the two of you with unmistakable amusement.

“He freezes in the face of danger,” you answer.

Sota’s eyes go wide, and he turns away from you, shaking his head. He isn’t doing it for you, though, but for Gojo.

“That’s not true! I’ve exorcised curses before, you’ve seen me do it!”

He’s desperate to prove himself to his teacher, and something sinks within you. You don’t need a vision to tell you what will happen next.

“The kid’s got a point,” Gojo lets you know. “That precognition thing of yours, how accurate is it?”

There was a time when those words would have sent you reeling back. Even now, when you’re expecting them, you feel the blood withdrawing from your face as he speaks them. But you swallow, school your features. You know better now. Fighting now will only delay the inevitable. Gojo was standing next to you anyway. With the Six Eyes, he must know for certain that you hadn’t activated any sort of cursed technique when you took off running. That alone would be enough to make him suspicious, if he didn’t already doubt you.

Cassandra’s Bargain. Tell the truth, and save only those who believe you.

Unlike others, explaining the workings of your cursed technique doesn’t make it more effective — it makes it useless. If you try to tip the scale in your favor now, you will all pay a high price for it later.

You know what Gojo is implying, about your accuracy. Most people who have foresight see a number of futures. If he suspects you saw one in which Sota died, your actions must make sense to him.

“Enough to keep me safe,” you answer, tight-lipped.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s give the kid a fighting chance from now, what d’ya say?”

That’s not how it works, but it doesn’t matter. At least Sota gets to keep his arm — until next time.

What a waste.

“Of course,” you say with a nod.

You would do it again in a heartbeat if you had to, but you no longer feel threads of cursed energy, threads of fate, pulling you in one direction or the other. Oh, they’re all around you, and you’d know much more if you activated your cursed technique, but you know how it functions. That had to be the worst that could happen. Things should be fine now.

“Start running Sota, you’ve got some catching up to do!”

“Yes, Mr. Gojo, sir!” the kid replies, all but saluting. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Gojo’s laugh at that, as the kid takes off sprinting, couldn’t be more genuine.

You lean against the pristine Morino Iori headstone — it’s disrespectful, and you formulate a silent apology, but all you can do is hope they won’t mind. You’re exhausted, and yet the tension is keeping your body in hypervigilance, refusing to go away.

Gojo approaches you, hands in his pockets. The ghost of his usual smile is dancing on his lips. For once, though, it doesn’t feel mean-spirited.

“We have to save them if they need us,” he says, voice surprisingly soft, “but it’s as least as important that we teach them how to fend for themselves.

“I don’t disagree with that.”

This kind of reasoning just isn’t worth losing an arm over.

Gojo steps closer, leaning towards you, so close his nose is almost touching yours. You suck in a quick breath through your mouth. From up close, it’s much harder to ignore how handsome he is, even without seeing his eyes. You blame your accelerating heart rate on the fact that you’re in a high-stress kind of and you’re particularly pent-up at the moment. If your skin tingles when you feel his breath against it, it’s because of the cold. Must be. Whatever it is, you don’t let it show, and you hate that you’re finding it harder to breathe.

“You’re not what I expected.”

He’s said it before, but his voice is lower now, deeper, vibrating through your body, and something that you recognize all too well twists, deep in your abdomen.

Desire.

You don’t answer. You didn’t know what to say the first time, and you sure as fuck have no clue now — don’t know what he means, don’t know what you’ve done that you weren’t supposed to, don’t know if the interest in his voice betrays the same feelings rushing through you right now. So you glare at him until he laughs, light and airy, and takes a step back.

“If you need me, I’ll be on top of the temple, watching the kids.”

You wait for him to disappear between the tombs, keeping yourself still, too still, probably, to be inconspicuous, and it’s only once you’re sure he’s gone that you let yourself exhale very, very slowly. The urge to laugh at yourself bubbles inside you, because what the fuck is wrong with you? It’s not the right time, not the right place, and not even remotely the right person.

You’re fully aware of all of that, know it in the deepest parts of your soul, and yet your eyes still trail towards the temple. You could imagine that you’re seeing Gojo’s silhouette there, if you didn’t know better.

Except you do. You do.

When you look away, you know full well you’re doing it too pointedly.

You don’t get a chance to involve yourself in the Kyoto Goodwill Event. With the beginning of fall, files are starting to accumulate. Since you’re still getting your bearings in Tokyo and familiarizing yourself with the sorcerers you can send on missions, that is what you dedicate yourself to.

Or, well, that’s what you’re told.

You know that you’re more than capable of doing several things at once without botching any of them. Masamichi Yaga and Satoru Gojo are the ones who disagree. You’re called into Yaga’s office, and Gojo is already there, leaning against the wall behind him. For once, he isn’t wearing the bandages, but rectangular sunglasses. Even from behind them, you see the faint glow of his eyes, and it takes a lot — a lot more than it should — not to stare.

“The students taking part in this year’s event will be exclusively second and third-years. Satoru knows them well.”

“Yeah, and they’ve been training for a that for a while,” Gojo says without missing a beat. Where Yaga is stern and serious, his voice is relaxed and pleasant, lightening the mood without trying to. “The third-years have already won once, so they know what they’ve got to do for a repeat.”

That’s right. Tokyo won last year, under Gojo’s guidance, for the first time since… well, since he stopped competing himself, according to what you’ve heard.

“Satoru had already started putting this year’s strategy together by the time you joined Jujutsu Tech,” Yaga adds, trying his best to sound apologetic. “So there’s no need to concern yourself with that. It’s already well-oiled.”

As far as you’re concerned, the only thing that’s well-oiled here is this routine they’re performing, all for your sake. You click your tongue, not bothering to hide your annoyance, and watch as Yaga’s fingers curl, as Gojo’s chin lifts and the blueish glow focuses on you. There’s politics in the air, you can smell it, with a role you have to play. So they think, at least. Unfortunately, you lack knowledge when it comes to Japanese society, and you cannot quite identify what that role is.

To be fair, you also don’t care for it.

“Was it really necessary to waste all of our times with this charade?”

“I beg your pardon?” Yaga asks in response. His voice thunders dangerously. He’s warning you not to cross a line.

“If you don’t want me involved, you can just say so,” you answer with a shrug. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have missions to assign.”

You don’t wait for him to dismiss you to stand up, rolling your eyes once you have your back turned on them. How bland. You’ve never seen the point of engaging with this kind of theatrics when there are such greater things at play. Having you help the kids come up with a strategy of their own, going over the basics of planning, now that could have been interesting and helpful. It’s not that you doubt Gojo’s abilities in that domain, you don’t, but it is your specialty, and you’ve had to learn to survive with resources that are significantly more limited than his. Instead of doing that, in the name of whatever internal conflict is going on here, the kids have been deprived of that experience.

How boring.

Once the door has closed behind you, Gojo lowers his head, shoulders shaking. Yaga turns around, frowning, only to find him quietly laughing to himself.

“Told you she was a weird one,” he says once he’s caught his breath.

“Maybe,” Yaga mumbles, “but there must be a reason why she was placed here.”

Gojo hums. Outside the office, he follows your cursed energy. It has always been diffuse, fickle, fizzling out around you until it becomes hard to tell where it ends — even for him. Must have something to do with your cursed technique, but he hasn’t seen you use that yet. You go straight to your classroom, where you sit behind your desk to work, like you do every day until it’s late in the night.

Yaga is right, of course. There must be a reason. But you’re at least making it fun for him to figure out.

The Kyoto Goodwill Event does not go over well.

Maybe you should get some petty satisfaction from it, but there is none to be found, just a bitter taste in your mouth. Next to you, Utahime, the Kyoto school teacher, does not look up at the screens provided by Grade 1 sorcerer Mei Mei. She has her eyes on her hands, and she is nervously rubbing her fingers. In fact, while a few outsiders who have come to see the game for their own enjoyment exclaim at the students’ impressive moves, there is only one member of the schools who seems to be enjoying himself, and that is Principal Gakuganji.

Kyoto is methodical in their approach. On an individual level, you suspect that Kyoto is far ahead of them, but as a team, they have come up with the perfect strategy — at least against the Tokyo team. They have done their research, know everything there is to know about their adversaries. Then again, having one member of the Zen’in and one member of the Kamo family on their side, even if neither have access to their families’ historical techniques, must have been quite the help to gather that information.

You don’t see them doing anything revolutionary — if anything, a team such as theirs could have been composed hundreds of years ago — but they have no need for it, not with how brutal they are willing to be, leaving devastation in their wake. They’re prepared, efficient, collected. They’re also quick, having adapted to this modified version of capture the flag, one that involves curses, without hesitation.

Tokyo defends to the best of their abilities. They prove themselves especially capable when it comes to improvising on the spot, which means that Gojo’s teaching works on that front is working, at least. The match ends up closer than Kyoto must have been hoping for, but it doesn’t change the end result.

It’s a resounding victory for Kyoto.

“Well,” Gakuganji is the first to speak as it ends, “that was quite the beautiful display of sportsmanship, don’t you think, Satoru?”

You glance at Gojo, who is sitting next to you. There’s real anger in the way his jaw tenses at the question, but by the time you blink, he’s already relaxed it.

“That was really impressive!” he laughs, throwing his head back and clapping enthusiastically. “They’ve progressed so much since last year, haven’t they? I never imagined they would be able to come this far.”

You press your lips together at the barely veiled insult.

“Indeed, that is what realized potential looks like,” Gakuganji replies, stroking his beard. “Such a shame to see your promising pupils crashing and burning… Although that’s not the first time you’ve seen that happen, is it?”

That is the least charitable way of looking at what happened there, but it is impossible to argue with the facts: Kyoto bested Tokyo. You can’t say you appreciate the way he’s talking about your students, but you don’t think it’s your place to say anything.

Gojo’s smile thins.

“Well, I’ll be looking forward to the individual tournament tomorrow,” Gakuganji adds, standing up. “In the meantime, Yaga, I assume you have planned for accommodations, and all this action has given me quite the appetite.”

He leaves the room with an unmistakably pleased smile, Yaga getting up after him. He gestures at Gojo to join them, and he’s not hiding his scowl when he stands up, unfolding his long limbs slowly. The other sorcerers follow suit, Utahime included, though she is sporting a somber expression too. You’re the only one to linger in the room, in no rush to suffer through more of Gojo and Gakuganji’s quips.

When you do leave, you stop by the infirmary, where you find Ieiri cursing through her teeth as she works on the students. Even though several of them are fully healed, they’re keeping themselves huddled up together, shoulders hanging low, eyes on the ground.

Defeated.

“Professor Gojo has already come by,” one of them informs you without bothering to look at you. “We’re fine. We’ll do better tomorrow.”

“Yes, you will,” you confirm, and you see flashes of hope on their faces, mistaking your confidence for a prophecy. Truth be told, you haven’t seen anything for the next day, but this is often the best way of using the aura that surrounds you. “But you did well today. They saw a weak spot, and they exploited it. As long as you learn from it, there is no shame in this defeat.”

That deflates them, and Ieiri snickers, glancing at you with a grin.

“Quite the pep talk you’re giving here.’

She’s right. You’ve never been good at this.

“You’re all excellent sorcerers, but even you can be defeated by people who are not as good as you, provided they’ve prepared adequately. That is what you need to take away from today. Conversely, you will be able to defeat much stronger adversaries than you, with the right approach.”

Some look thoughtful at your words — most still look just as dejected as they were when you walked in.

“We’ll work on that once this tournament is over. For now, all you need to do is rest. You’ll prevail tomorrow.”

Smiles finally break on their faces, and you take that as your cue to leave, before you can say something that would ruin it again.

You’re in no rush to join the other sorcerers just yet, so you wander through the hallways, intending to go back to the classroom that’s become your refuge in the school. You’re one corner away from it, when the window that leads to the outside slides open, and Satoru Gojo jumps in, right in front of you. It is the second floor, yet you can’t muster surprise.

He shoots you a smirk that knocks the air out of you, but it’s nothing compared to what he does next. He looks back towards the window, looking displeased, and that’s when you notice voices calling for him — Kyoto students and low-level sorcerers. You’re about to look down when he catches you. He wraps a hand around your wrist to pull you away, presses the other on the wall, next to your head, and you freeze. He’s close, and everything you’ve been feeling for weeks at this point comes rushing back in.

“You know what’s a great way of getting people’s attention off you?” he asks, smirk even wider, if possible.

“Wh—”

Then his lips are on yours.

He tastes sweet, you’re surprised to find.

It’s playful, the way he kisses you, a press of his mouth against yours, stolen, daring. It’s also all you need to admit to yourself how badly you’ve been wanting this. That’s why you’re the one who wraps your arms around his neck, kissing him back harder. He lets out a surprised noise into you, maybe a chuckle, but he certainly doesn’t fight it, even if he wasn’t planning on it. In fact, it’s quite the contrary.

He reaches greedily for your hips, pulling you to him and keeping you pressed against his hard chest. When you part your lips, there is not a moment of hesitation on his part before he pushes his tongue in, swirling it against yours. You crane your neck to give him better access to your mouth, all while holding on tight to his neck to lower him towards you. Your back is against the wall, your body arched a way that would be uncomfortable if you weren’t so hot all over, set ablaze by his touch.

When he pushes his thigh between your legs, flexing it so it rubs against you just right, your knees buckle under you. It doesn’t help that, in this position, his semi-hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and that awakens a very special kind of hunger within you.

There is no softness to the kiss or to the way your bodies move together, just pure lust. Wetness is pooling between your legs already, in anticipation for more, more of him, more of his body, more of his touch. He’s so tall, it’s like he’s everywhere, his scent surrounding you, his body caging you against the wall effortlessly, his mouth demanding more and more of you. You roll your hips against his, trapping his cock between your bodies, and he hisses into you, his grip turning bruising — not that you mind.

“Tease,” he manages to mumble as he takes a quick breath.

There’s no room for any more words before he reattaches his mouth to yours, almost biting into you, and fuck it feels good. His lips are soft, but that must be the only thing that is soft about this kiss. He moves your skirt out of the way, one hand coming to grab your thigh so he can lift it up, and that is when your eyes snap open, some reason coming back to your lust-filled brain at last.

“Wait,” you mumble, “not here.” Your eyes dart around the dark hallway — empty, but far too in the open for your liking. Problem is, your body is aching with how much you want him, and, even if it would be the smart thing to do, you can’t bring yourself to stop now. “Classroom,” you conclude, pulling him with you.

He lets out a breathless laugh, but follows. The second the door is closed, he has you against the wall again, this time with his chest pressed to your back while his lips find your neck, teeth pulling at the skin mercilessly before dragging his tongue on the sensitive area to soothe it. You let out a sigh, but it comes out much louder than you’d intended, almost a moan, and you have to lift a hand up to cover your mouth. He snickers, but doesn’t waste any more time on teasing you.

Instead, he snakes his hand into your skirt, and this time, you don’t stop him. Long fingers move past the hem of your panties to brush against your clit and you jump, biting your lower lip to keep quiet. His lips stretch into a smile on your neck.

“You’re so fucking wet already,” he comments by your ear, rubbing his fingers over your pussy lips, purposefully not entering you.

You groan in frustration, and push your ass against his now rock-hard cock. The low moan he lets out in surprise is delightful to hear.

“As if you’re one to talk,” you reply.

“Is that how you want to play it?”

Before you can answer him, he easily pushes two fingers inside you. They’re long and they fill you so well, you have to focus every fiber of you that’s not lost in pleasure on keeping quiet. Gojo’s free to take his fingers out, then plunge them into you once more, and you can’t help clenching needily around them.

“See,” he says, and oh his low voice, the way it makes his chest vibrate against your back, it all goes straight to your core, making you gush around his fingers some more, “that’s expected of me, ‘cause everyone knows I’m sorcerer society’s problem child. Aren’t you supposed to be the good girl?”

It’s no easy task to think with his fingers pumping in and out of you relentlessly, but even through the haze of pleasure, the words make you frown.

“Says— Ah— Says who?”

He uses the heel of his palm to press against your clit, and you’d conclude that he is actively trying to render you speechless if pleasure wasn’t shooting through you like electricity.

“Hmm, I don’t know, I’d say you’re being pretty good right now, wouldn’t you?”

“Would you— fuck— would you stop talking and just fuck me already?” you still manage to bite out.

He laughs again, delighted and maybe a little fond, but he stills his fingers inside you. You get some time to catch your breath, and use whatever self-control you have left not to try and fuck yourself on his hand.

“You sure?”

“As long as you’re clean, I’m safe,” you say — maybe not your smartest moment, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

He pulls his fingers out, and you glance at him over your shoulder. He’s still wearing the bandages over his eyes, but his jaw is uncharacteristically taut, and his movements lack their usual fluidity. You grin. Good to see you’re having an effect on him too. It becomes even more obvious when he pulls out his cock, hard and veiny. You’re not surprised by how big he is, and you find yourself licking your lips, clenching around air at the prospect of what’s to come. Shit, you cannot wait to have it inside you, stretching you out.

“I’ve been wanting to mess up that skirt for weeks,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, as he pushes it out of the way and lowers your panties.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you ask with a click of your tongue. He is still talking way more than he should.

The smirk he gives you should concern you. He presses the tip of his cock to your entrance, and then, instead of penetrating you, as you’re frozen in anticipation, slides his length against your pussy lips, sending jolts of pleasure through you, but not giving you what you need right now. You whimper pleadingly, not catching yourself fast enough to keep yourself silent. You worry that he will keep teasing, but it appears he has reached his limits too, because soon he is pushing the tip of his cock inside you, and fuck, it’s even better than you’d imagined.

You hear him grunt behind you as he starts pushing himself inside you at a devilishly slow pace. You expected him to do it all at once, so you turn around once more, ready to throw another quip at him for his relentless teasing, but the words die on your lips when you see his face. His teeth are planted in his lower lip, and his face is contorted in a pleasure that he is clearly trying to reign in, his breathing quick and shallow, his chest heaving. The sight leaves you breathless, so you stay quiet.

“So fucking tight,” he all but whines as he keeps pushing himself inside you.

He bottoms out at last, and he stills for a few seconds, all so you can adjust and not at all because he is going to come too fast if he can’t get used to how warm and welcoming you are around him first. The discreet groans he was letting out turn into a full moan when you move forward, pulling him out of you, then back, sheathing him inside you completely once more. You’d keep moving, but he grips your hips tightly, fingers digging into the flesh, to stop any movement you could make.

It doesn’t last long though, because after that, he starts moving himself, and the pace he sets it merciless. The slapping of skin on skin echoes obscenely in the empty room, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when you can barely think, not when your knees are failing you and his hands on hips are the only thing keeping you standing, not when tiny whimpers keep spilling past your lips, no matter how much you try to keep them in.

“Couldn’t be even just a little patient, hm?” he asks you. It’s undercut by the gasps that interrupt him, the pleasured moans that escape him too.

This time, you don’t find anything to answer. The angle, with you bent over, hands on the wall in a desperate attempt to stay on your feet, makes you feel so, so full that you can’t think straight. Pleasure is coursing through you with each time he hammers into you, and you clench around him helplessly each time he pulls out. He’s fast, relentless, but if the way his moans keep getting more-pitched is any indication, he’s close to reaching his climax. You’re not far yourself, you just— just need— just a little—

One of his hands abandons your hip, and you would stumble forward if he wasn’t holding you so firmly. His free hand finds its way to your clit, and pinches it expertly, just as he snaps his hips into you harder than he has so far, spilling himself inside you. The orgasm hits you like a thousand volts, and your hips jerk back uncontrollably, whole body shaking, as you ride the wave of it on his cock until it ends. Ah, you needed this so badly that, as it recedes, you can only feel content, the pleasure it gave you still tingling in your body.

For a while, the sounds of you and Gojo’s panting are all that fill the room. Finally, he pulls his sensitive, softening cock out a you with a hiss, and you ignore the squelching sound it makes. He tucks it back into his pants, and you finally find it in yourself to pull your panties back up, readjusting your skirt. Your hair is messy from the kissing earlier, but apart from that, you’re still rather presentable — you hope.

“Didn’t think you had that in you,” Gojo comments. He’s still catching his breath.

“At what point are you going to admit that you’ve just misjudged me?”

He laughs, but the smirk he shoots you, hands in his pockets, standing a few feet away from you, is proof that the distance between the two of you is back to what it was before. You don’t find yourself minding all that much. This is as good a way as any other to release tension, and you’re more relaxed than you have in weeks. The lightness of his voice tells you the same is true for him. Seems like you both got the same thing out of it, and that’s fine by you, even if it doesn’t bring you any closer.

“Once I know I was wrong,” he says. It sounds ominous, but, well, if he wants to keep clinging to that image he’s made of you, that is his problem. So far, you’d argue that it has rather worked in your favor.

You shrug.

“If you hadn’t felt that way, Tokyo would have won today,” you tell him matter-of-factly.

His smile widens.

“Guess we’ll have to see about that next year, hm?”

“I guess we will.”

Silence grows between the two of you. You normally wouldn’t mind. Now, you feel the need to say something.

“This should stay between us,” you finally manage to say. Sorcerer society can be— harsh, on women, to say the least. The last thing you need is for someone to know you’ve fucked your coworker. You’d be branded as a whore, and while you find this all horribly regressive, you’d still rather not have to deal with the fallout.

Gojo hums in agreement.

“I’m not really the type to want all my business out there either,” he tells you in a surprising display of sincerity. It’s ruined when he smirks and adds, “Next time, I think I should fuck you on your desk.”

You scoff, but you know you both hear your lack of denial loud and clear. You’re not opposed to there being a next time, provided this doesn’t get out. By the look of things, it would be mutually beneficial.

You don’t bother to answer him before you open the door, glancing outside. No one in sight. He would have known if that had been the case, of course, but you’re still relieved. You slip outside unceremoniously — it’s pretty clear you’re done here anyway — and he does nothing to hold you back.

Later, after you’ve taken a quick shower in the facilities available at the high school and you’re sat by Ieiri around the dinner table, Gakuganji can barely hide his smugness.

“Where you have been off to?” he asks Gojo, his tone making it clear just how pleased with himself he is. “Licking your wounds?”

“Something like that,” Gojo answers lightly, and you’re careful to keep your eyes on your food.

The conversation fades into the background. Your thoughts move to the upcoming solo tournament, the next day, to your students, to the missions you have to assign. And then, for the first time in forever, you find yourself distracted by something that isn’t work-related. You welcome the respite it gives you.

On your desk, next time, huh?

You could work with that.

thank you all for reading and getting all the way here! interactions are what keeps me writing, so please comment/reblog/send an ask to feed your author and have my eternal gratitude!

tagging people who expressed interest in the first chapter: @sapphiccloud @saccharine-nectarine @calypsothegoddess @aspiring-bookworm @aerismonia

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #my writing

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yun-fangz · 9 months ago

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masterlist. ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

please note: these are all works of FICTION. they are not meant to be taken out of context or used as a representation of the boys irl.

my works are member x fem!reader only.

all works are 18+ unless stated otherwise. minors do not interact.

last updated: 5/30/25

Kim Hongjoong:

twt links.

fleur.

dilf!designer hongjoong x intern!reader. age gap, suggestive content

2:08am

dilf!hongjoong, toys, punishment

Park Seonghwa:

twt links.

giving seonghwa head.

smut drabble, cunnilingus (m rec)

Jeong Yunho:

brainrot. ft twt link

just a thought (ft. twt link)

smut, size kink, backshots, yunho's a tease

twt links.

Kang Yeosang:

twt links.

Choi San:

twt links.

perv!san

smut, vouyer!san, roommate!au

another random thought

backshots, headlocks, strength kink

Song Mingi:

Ain't shit.

smut, college!au, cheating, cursing, reader fucks yunho, both of you are kinda shitty.

twt links.

Jung Wooyoung:

twt links.

Choi Jongho:

twt links.

marking with jongho

suggestive, making out, marking

7:25pm

suggestive/smut, dilf jongho, size kink, mentions of size training.

dilf! jongho brainrot

smut, short story in bullet points, sugar daddy!jongho, college student !reader

on your knees.

dilf!jongho, suggestive/smut, jongho is whipped for reader

pretty bows

suggestive, dilf!jongho, hyperfem!reader, sexual tension

bear hybrid!jongho

smut, awkward turned feral!jongho, readers first heat, prey!hybrid!reader, roommates to lovers

forever boy

smut, sub!jongho, pegging, first time, pretty soft and tame

nsfw link + blurb.

OT8/multiple members:

accidentally sending a thirst text | hyung line. | maknae line.

fake texts, suggestive w/ humor.

bush talk. | hyung line. | maknae line.

suggestive fake texts, very bad humor, freak!ateez

optional bias

smut, body worship, fingering, that man is in love with you.

life of the party

suggestive/smut, drug usage, alcohol consumption, frat!ateez

sub!ateez headcannons

mtl format, petplay

dilf!ateez brainrot.

dumbification w/ dilf!teez

sleepy head.

somnophilia, oral (m rec.)

yungi twt links.

matz twt links.

yunhwa texts.

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koenigami · 1 year ago

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➵ WRIOTHESLEY

synopsis : sometimes all it takes is a little push from a little melusine wc : 1,3k tags : fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader and wrio had an argument

“He’s in a bad mood.” “Did something happen?” “Was it an inmate?” “She left the fortress in a haste.” “Someone heard them arguing. She looked hysterical.” “Oh-oh. A fight?” “Shit, not again.”

The respect that Wriothesley earns himself stems from different kinds of people and different kinds of emotions. Some of them look up to him and his generosity while others are easily intimidated solely by his presence. Usually, the latter ones simply have not had the chance yet to get to know the Duke better. Otherwise they would realise that behind that cool and brutish exterior lies just a guy who likes order and tea.

However, there is one specific circumstance that will have even Sigewinne lower her head when passing by his Grace’s office.

“Do you know what they were arguing about?” The little Melusine has been asking around for a while now, looking for eyewitnesses, and writing down every piece of information as if she was solving a scandalous case. She knows very well that as rough as he may seem, Wriothesley is only human. A human madly, truly in love with none other than Fontaine’s top attorney with whom the Fortress of Meropide is in constant correspondence due to work related matters.

Sigewinne nervously bites the top of her pen as she returns to her infirmary. The taste of plastic makes her grimace in disgust and look at the writing utensil with annoyance as if it had insulted her. She sighs.

It’s been a week since you hurried out of Wriothesley’s office, furiously stomping towards the elevator and staring down everyone and anyone who dared to cross your path. One week worth of missing documents that have not been sent in by you. One week worth of paperwork that has yet to be completed by Wriothesley. (Which is oddly ironic since that man has not left his office ever since your argument.)

Love will make the sanest person go mad, whether it’s in a good or a bad way. And so all Sigewinne can do right now is think about a way to make the both of you come back to your senses. But how? It’s not like either you or Wriothesley are at her beck and call, and will simply meet up just because she asked you so. Despite the emotional agony that you’re going through right now, you’re both way too stubborn for that.

Agony.

Unless…

“Where is he?!” Your voice echoes through the hall as you rush into Sigewinne’s infirmary. That was fast, she thinks.

She almost feels a little bad when she notices the glimmer in your eyes and your laboured breathing. It’s for everyone’s sake, she reminds herself.

“He should get here soon.”

“B-But Neuvilette told me-” A poisoned tea. Those were the news that the Iudex had apparently received from one of the Melusines, and forwarded them to you. You don’t know all the details. You left your office as soon as you got to know that Wriothesley was currently unconscious due to a prisoner who had spiked his afternoon tea.

Now you’re here, but he’s not and it’s making you even more agitated. “Sigewinne, where is he? Is he alright? Are you hiding something from me?”

“Y/n?” At first you feel his hands all over you before you even get to see him. Wriothesley delicately holds your head, turning it left and right before his hands move to your arms and then lower to your own hands. They’re shaking the slightest bit as he holds them up to his lips, pressing sweet kisses along your fingertips. His blood boils and he clenches his jaw at the simple thought of some low lives being the cause of your current state.

It’s your turn to inspect him from head to toe now. His hair is a mess, all dishevelled while his pale skin makes you fear that he might just topple over any second. Your body moves before you know it, as you push him towards one of the few beds in the infirmary. “Wriothesley, shouldn’t you be in bed? When did you even wake up?”

Wake… up?

“Do you know if the potion will have any long term effects on you?” Despite having him right in front of you, obviously well and not on his deathbed, your heart still feels like it is about to burst from your ribcage. As soon as the news had reached you, you dropped everything. Any documents that you had to write and read through, any meetings with clients and other employees of the Palais Mermonia-

None of them mattered anymore. All of a sudden, everything seemed so insignificant when there was the uncertainty if you’d ever be able to hear Wriothesley’s voice. Hear him sigh in tiredness before humming with the delight at the taste of his freshly brewed tea.

The simple thought of the possibility of him never waking up again, depriving you from the chance to get another glimpse of his breathtaking eyes. It was enough to get your tear ducts working and your eyes pricking as you hurried to see him as soon as possible.

“Archons, you should really lie down. You don’t look-”

Your mouth falls silent, because you can almost hear the screeching sound of the turning clockworks inside Wriothesley’s brain. It ends up worrying you even more.

He scrutinises you, lets his gaze travel around the room only to notice that you’re alone now. Only you two. No Sigewinne.

Sigewinne…

“You have not been attacked today, have you?” Deep blue eyes inspect your body again. Just to make sure, even though he more or less knows that all of this has to be a scheme.

“No one robbed you? No treasure hoarders, right?”

He watches your eyes widen, brows furrow before you shake your head. Of course.

Why else would you believe that he’s comatose? Why else would he believe that you’ve been beaten to a pulp, and robbed off your most precious belongings? Why if not because of Sigewinne?

“What’s wrong?” You ask cautiously, and you notice now too that one person is missing.

And it’s only when Wriothesley explains to you that, in fact, there has never been tea nor poison, or at least not any kind of combination of those two. He has never been unconscious, and neither have you been hurt. But what did happen was that the both of you have been led on. Deceived.

And that by none other than the head nurse herself.

“I can’t believe she pulled off something like that. You looked so awful, I actually thought you were sick.”

“Love, that’s because I was worried sick!” Wriothesley exclaims and exhales a huge breath when you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His arms open and instinctively wrap around you, fingers digging into your hips. And it feels good. So, so good because it’s been way too many days since you’ve held each other like this.

And, god damn, did he miss it.

A thought crosses his mind. How your last interaction had been a silly argument. Petty remarks and poisonous words spewed at each other, induced by nothing else but your egos.

All of it is so insignificant now that you both are in each other’s embrace, and that you’re both fine and unharmed.

So Wriothesley promises himself to apologise to you later, inhale your scent, brush his fingers through your hair all while showing you how much the few days that you have been apart affected him. Because none of those things should be taken for granted. Because another day with you is not promised but his love for you is.

But first. You both have a bone to pick with a certain Melusine.

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley genshin impact #genshin x reader #wriothesley comfort

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songsanpotato · 6 months ago

Text

2:18am

PAIRING: boyfriend!seonghwa x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 282

WARNINGS: none really, its just a bunch of tooth-rotting fluff in my opinion :) SYNOPSIS: Even your cute little boyfriend needs help every now and then with a headache that just won't leave him alone.

A/N: Sometimes I just need to write something cute in the middle of smut that my parents would not be proud of seeing. IMPORTANT: All writing belongs to @songsanpotato. Any similarities to events or other written pieces of fiction are purely coincidental unless otherwise stated. This is in no way a reflection of the idol that is being written about in real life. Do not repost anywhere without permission.

Link to masterlist

"Seonghwa what's going on?" you say as you watch your boyfriend stumble into your room from the reflection of your dimly lit laptop.

"Baby, I need your help please."

"What's going on?" you say, watching him kneel at you legs that are dangled against the end of the bed.

"My head hurts so bad."

"Hwa, you're not a child."

"I know, but it hurts."

"Did you take some medicine?"

"Yeah."

"Have you tried sleeping."

"No."

"Seonghwa-"

"I can't sleep because of the headache. It's like I have a bowel of liquid in my head and if I move it, the headache moves with it."

"What would you like me to do for you?" You coo as you stroke his hair.

"Hm-" he murmurs.

"You want me to keep doing this?"

He looks up at you with wide eyes as he nods slowly.

"Okay, tell you what," you say, pushing yourself up onto the bed, your back against the headboard, "Come here."

You cross your legs and allow for Seonghwa to slowly crawl onto the bed, placing his head into your lap.

"There you go. It's okay." you say.

"You're so pretty you know." he says, beaming up at you.

"Okay, I'm going to touch your head now."

His eyes close as you work up the front of his forehead into his hairline. His eyebrows furrow.

"You doing okay?" you ask.

"Mhm." he says.

You lean down and place a tiny little kiss on the tip of his nose.

"I love you, you know that?" you say as he opens his eyes and stares into your soul.

Looking back at you with his puppy dog eyes, he nods slowly.

"I love you too."

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fic #park seonghwa #y/n x seonghwa #seonghwa ateez #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #fluff #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff

308 notes · View notes

rumoonstruckyet · 4 months ago

Text

where bluebells meet.

pairing : rivaltofriend!jungwon x fem!reader

featuring; sunoo, riki, rei, and liz as their friends + mention of winter (pls don’t take it seriously 🙏🏻)

genre : high school au, academic rivals to friends to lovers, FLUFF, very minor angst, slow burn?? probably a ‘he fell first and harder’ in there as well.

synopsis : for years, you’ve been on a constant stream of debates with student council president yang jungwon. and although you didn’t exactly hate him, you weren’t fond of him either—especially of your teachers’ decision to team you up for two projects—in your graduating year, of all times. so as you started working, why were your arguments now reduced to an air of awkwardness and...a blossoming friendship?

or in which...you and jungwon turned from good rivals into oblivious friends.

word count : 31.2k (um...😭???)

✩♬ ₊ more under the cut ˚☾⋆⁺✧

notes (?) : very ordinary love story. reader blushes a lot, usually ties her hair into a ponytail, is implied to be the same age as or younger than jungwon, and has one sided dislike for him. story follows asian education system. probably failed attempt at humor and inaccurate depiction of pet adoption. song recs in some parts.

warnings : a kiss (not on the lips), i think some parental and self-esteem issues, a few curses, mention of skipping meals, casual skinship between reader and jungwon (please let me know if i missed anything else!)

disclaimer : this is a work of fiction. the characters are distinct from and do not represent the idols in real life. any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead) or actual events is purely coincidental. any similarities to other works of fiction are completely unintentional unless explicitly stated otherwise.

a/n : i wanted to post this on jungwon’s birthday but it was still unedited, so here we are. yang leader is 21 now! 🥺 have you listened to his song cover? it’s so beautiful. may the world always be kind to him. 10 days late but—happy birthday, yang jungwon. ⋆⭒˚⋆ if you’re looking for an ar2l with a lot of tension, this is not it. this is my first (and maybe last) time writing a oneshot and i do admit it’s a self indulgent fic because i just wanted to see if i can do it, and jungwon is my bias. i’m still learning how to write and i’m expanding my vocab since english is not my first language so, i hope i did well. just reading this already means a lot to me, but likes, reblogs, and comments will be much appreciated—please give me feedback or at least tell me how you felt while reading! lastly, thank you for giving my story a chance.

p.s. this took me a long time to edit and review + tumblr is so uncooperative 😭 so please excuse the errors, if there’s any. (i have been editing/proofreading this whenever i have the chance, so that explains minor differences across reblogs and stuff so if you’re viewing this through a reblog, please view the original post, thanks!)

“Love shouldn’t make you throw away your life. Romeo and Juliet were impulsive teenagers who made terrible decisions.”

“Well, it might not have been love but what they had was pure. They sacrificed a lot for each other, and that’s beautiful, even if it was tragic—”

“—which led to a disaster. It’s a reminder how love can be dangerous and lead to destruction. I’d like to believe it’s a cautionary tale rather than a romantic one.”

Drawing in a breath, you force yourself for the nth time to calm down as you became deeply invested in an exchange about the timeless story.

“But the tragedy is what makes the love even more powerful. That’s how it works in fiction. Furthermore, it shows how precious yet fragile love is, and why we should fight for it.”

“Or maybe Shakespeare was just trying to entertain us with a melodramatic tale of young love gone wrong?”

His comment earns a few laughs from the class and the almost imperceptible smirk on his face makes you want to just scream your lungs out right then and there.

“Alright, fine. Two things can be true at the same time. It may have been a melodramatic tale but it also offers insights into the human nature, explores love, family, and the consequences of hatred—”

The loud ringing of the bell suddenly cuts through the thick atmosphere that built up in the room, and you quickly halt your words. A mixture of relieved sighs, teasing remarks, and amused laughter was heard throughout the place, everyone shuffling out of their seats to head to the cafeteria for lunch.

Giving one last challenging look to the boy a few seats away from you, as if to say “We��re not done yet”, you turn around and approach your friends who were all snickering among themselves already at the slight glare you sent him.

“Y/N, that was intense. Are you being paid to defend Shakespeare or something?”

You roll your eyes at Rei’s comment and link arms with her and Liz, pulling them together with you to walk out of the classroom.

“Whatever. He was intentionally defying me. I didn’t want to leave him satisfied.”

The bustling sounds of students filling the hallways as they set off from all directions served as the background noise while your mind flowed with thoughts about the heated exchange during class.

It was nothing new. Not a week would go by without any argument between you and your so-called rival, Yang Jungwon, as you both competed and argued at school for almost anything in existence. Today was no different when the story of the star crossed lovers were discussed in Literature, and you willingly offered your perspective since Miss Kim asked for the class’ opinion on their forsaken love.

But the student council president just really had to have a rebuttal at all of your words. He would never back down without a fight, would he? The seemingly childish antics between the two of you weren’t bound by the confines of the classroom either and extended into anywhere that you found yourselves meeting.

A silent challenge on who could hold eye contact the longest, vying for the teachers’ favor, and even passive-agressively fighting for a certain gazebo during your free periods—it was a natural occurrence in your daily life now.

Arriving at the cafeteria, a plethora of aromas from the counter fill your senses, momentarily distracting you from your inner monologue. You were certain that having some nice food would take away all the stress in your day so far and the thought alone gave you a sense of peace at the time being.

But that peace didn’t last for long as you made your way to the cramped line of students who were all eager to get their share of food and felt a sturdy chest accidentally bump into your back, making you almost stumble on your own feet.

You quickly whip your head around to look at who caused a near embarrassing moment, only to be met by the face of the person you’ve been thinking of since you left the room.

He flashes an Oscar-worthy apologetic face at you while his friends, Sunoo and Riki, slap him from behind, suppressing their laughter. “I’m sorry—”

“Can’t stupid Romeo see that someone’s in front of him?”

His eyebrows lift in astonishment at your reply and he slightly leans down to meet your level. “Oh, is sweet Juliet getting grumpy at me now?”

He leans away and straightens, flashing such a soft smile you’d almost believe he was being sincere, and maybe he was. “Okay, I’m actually sorry. The line’s full, I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

You were about to retort when Liz taps your shoulder and whispers. “Y/N, the line’s really too cramped. Leave him be. Let’s get moving, I’m hungry.”

With another threatening glare, you decide that the boy isn’t worth your time and you turn around to move forward in the line.

It was already your graduating year and you could only hope that the stress of your upcoming workload would be lessened by fewer unfortunate encounters with Yang Jungwon. You were sick and tired of it all already. It was due time to grow up.

Little did you know, the heavens must have heard your prayer and with their own interpretation, decided it was time to grant your wish. Twice.

The next day, you were back at the cafeteria during lunchtime, but now with a face looking more grim than ever as you grappled with the issue you were currently facing.

“Mr. Yoon’s decision is understandable,” Liz says, while Rei listens as she simultaneously eats and reviews notes for her Biology quiz. “He’s just new here so I couldn’t even blame him for being shocked when we said that you two have an on-going war for years already.”

You only response by angrily chewing on the pork cutlet in your mouth as she states your years-long of rivalry with Yang Jungwon, now leading to a more intense battle, or rather, an inner one.

“But Miss Kang...” Liz pauses and looks at you. “...Y/N, have you at least tried talking to her about it?”

At the mention of your teacher who made the awful decision of intentionally teaming you up with your rival, you groan loudly and clutch your head.

“She said she just wanted to see if we can set aside our differences and work together. Why did it have to happen this year when they have never put us in the same group for the past years, not even once?” You lifted your head and made vague hand motions. “And can you believe it, she even added that we might be secretly attracted to each other?! Ugh!”

Liz cackles loudly, shaking her head in amusement. “You know, I honestly agree with her. I mean, come on, is it really believable that you two wouldn’t have at least a tiny bit of attraction towards one another?”

You visibly cringe at her words, earning a laugh from them both. “Horrifying.”

“Well, what’s there to not be attracted about?” Rei chimes in, her eyes holding a mischievous glint as she looks at you. “You like Yang Jungwon, don’t you? You’ve got a secret crush on him and you just disguised it as “rivalry” this whole time. Or maybe even...the two of you are dating behind closed doors.”

Your face goes red in an instant, and Rei chuckles at the way you try to defend yourself. “W-what? No way. I do not like him like that—at all!”

“You seem awfully defensive for someone who says they don’t like him,” Liz teases and you give her a mock glare.

Rei leans forward as if she’s about to say something serious. “Okay, how about this Y/N. I don’t mean to offend you but perhaps,” she squints her eyes, “are you...jealous of Yang Jungwon?”

Your face contorts in perplexity at her question, but Liz could only laugh at how dumbfounded you looked.

“Jealous?” You incredulously reply. “W-why...why would I be jealous of him?”

Rei shrugs. “Exactly. Why would you, of all people, be jealous of him?” She looks down at her hands as she counts things off.

“You’re pretty, kind, smart, charming, talented, a good leader and student—just like him. I’d go as far as to say you’re like two peas in a pod.”

You give her a skeptical look. “Thanks, but...I believe we’re very different. And I am definitely not jealous of that guy. Nor do I hate him. I just really don’t like being around him.”

“Really?” They both ask and you nod. Rei hums thoughtfully as she ponders her next words, but Liz cuts in.

“Jealousy and attraction out of the way. Fine, then maybe...” she takes a suspenseful pause as she looks at you, her expression serious. “...you could give him a chance? I don’t know, maybe you could be friends?”

Rei fervently nods at her suggestion. “She’s right. You and I are friends, I’m friends with Riki, and Riki is Jungwon’s friend. So I think you and Jungwon would be good friends too, if you just try.”

“That’s a fallacy.”

Liz bursts out laughing at how you referenced your Political Science and Government class a few hours ago and Rei shrugs once more. “Well, maybe it is, but that doesn’t change the possibility that you could still be friends.”

“I mean it, Y/N.” You could feel the sincerity in her tone and Liz quiets down, the two of you now intently listening to her.

“I get that you two always debate like there’s no end to it, but you both respect each other’s intelligence and abilities, and that’s a good start. Try to engage in a conversation and maybe you’ll find out you have more in common with each other than you think.”

Liz stared with her mouth agape at Rei’s sudden counselling, but she only continues to give you advice as she goes back to scanning her notes.

“You’re different in some areas, and you could probably learn from each other, see things from a different perspective—even if you don’t always agree on everything. Yang Jungwon isn’t that bad. And I’m pretty sure you’ll both come around eventually.”

Liz gives a playful hit to Rei’s shoulder, earning a loud cry from her. “Hey, where’d you suddenly get all that stuff, huh? And what even makes you so sure they’d be friends?”

Rei waves in dismissal as she continues to flip through her notes and nonchalantly replies. “I just have a feeling that they would get along at some point. Inevitably.”

Their banter fades into the background as you get lost in your own thoughts, finding yourself actually thinking about Rei’s words. Find something in common with Yang Jungwon? Okay, maybe it’s not entirely impossible.

But...friends? The thought feels strange. You’ve only always seen him as a rival, an opponent to beat, someone you wanted to prove that you were better than.

Could it really be a chance to be civil if you just put down your pride in the meantime? If there was another way to look at things even though it hurt your ego, then perhaps you could actually learn from each other and as Rei said, even become friends.

You weren’t sure if you’d actually be able to work together or just end up arguing like usual, but if you try hard enough, then maybe, just maybe...there’s a chance for something different to happen. And whatever it was, you could only hope that it would benefit the project that you shared.

Heavy, thick, and uncomfortable silence.

That was how you would describe your first proper meeting with Yang Jungwon for your godforsaken project.

Jungwon arrived first to your agreed-upon meeting spot, much to your dismay, but it wasn’t like you were late either. You were both simply too compliant and did not want to provoke each other by not adhering to the scheduled time of arrival.

You hadn’t expected an almost non-existent conversation throughout the first few minutes. Jungwon only reiterated what you had already discussed on chat (that barely lasted a minute) about the project and you both settled on studying the subject matter in the meantime, an almost suffocating atmosphere surrounding the two of you.

You wondered why it suddenly seemed like all the heat of a possible argument vanished, replaced by an unsettling and almost palpable tension. Maybe it was the proximity of working together in a quiet space, or it could’ve been the fact that none of you wanted to have a situation escalate from nothing and mess with your work.

Either way, your stolen glances from each other and the pin-drop silence spoke volumes of how painfully awkward it was all. The both of you were very sure that if your friends were here to witness the sight, their first words would be asking the reason behind such unnatural quietness.

You tried to focus on outlining a draft for the project, you swore you really did, but God, it was very hard to do so when every detail you noticed for every minute pointed to all the differences that you could think of between you and the student council president.

Jungwon’s gaze would constantly switch from his laptop to a pile of papers on the table, the practiced ease in his calculated movements almost making it seem like he had a well-powered engine inside of him, meanwhile you were unsure of just what you had to do, evident in the way your hands kept on fidgeting with the cap of your pen.

Even the blue cardigan he was wearing and the orange bow on your hair seemed to emphasize how you were sitting opposite each other, so close yet unbearably distant. Though you were sure that if Rei was here, she would look on the bright side and say that the two colors are complementary.

You internally shudder.

Every time that his phone lit up with a notification, you would see the lockscreen wallpaper of him and his friends and it would instantly remind you how outgoing and approachable he was.

Jungwon was good at socializing, and while you stepped out of your comfort zone when needed, you were often reserved. Jungwon knew when to be serious, but most of the time, he was playful and enthusiastic. On the other hand, you took things too seriously more often than not.

You were a quiet observer, and it overwhelmed you sometimes how Jungwon was a constant whirlwind of energy, something you couldn’t keep up with.

You were emotional yet preferred routine, and Jungwon was logical but could be spontaneous. He had the ability to just go with the flow, always fearless and carefree. It was a quality that you both admired and resented, reminding you of your insecurities.

Fine, maybe Rei was right. Maybe you were jealous of Yang Jungwon after all.

What you didn’t know was that he was having his own internal debate presently, his composed demeanor perfectly concealing his loud thoughts. Behind the personality you envied, Jungwon often wondered if his own fire would burn him.

He thought of it as a stark contrast to your calm and composure, something he found intriguing, intimidating, and oddly attractive—all at the same time, and it made him feel uncertain of how to approach you.

It didn’t help that his perceived laid-back and nonchalant persona of yours only seemed to break away whenever it came to him. He wasn’t exactly sure whether he should be satisfied or disconcerted by it, especially when he had never meant to get you so worked up.

Jungwon has always seen you as an enigma that he couldn’t help but be drawn to. Although right now, that curiosity was mixed in with simmering frustration as he took in the situation before him. The uncomfortable silence only seemed to amplify every movement and sound from the two of you, and it was gnawing at him.

He waited a little more just to see if you would finally speak up and do something, but he could sense that you were even more tense than he was. He gave it a minute. Two. Three.

Until he couldn’t take it anymore. He closed his notebook with a gentle but distinct thump, the quiet snap intentional to draw your eyes up to him in an instant.

“Okay, can we just...” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he opened them, they bore into you with a desperate intensity as he forced a calm demeanor. “...please talk for a moment?”

You gulped. “Y-yeah, sure.” You felt your hands go cold and your heart pounding, a mix of nerves and anticipation coursing at once. “What...where do we start?”

Jungwon sighs, sensing that you were still feeling tense with the whole ordeal. “Y/N, are you scared of me? Or mad at me?” He softly asks.

Your eyes go round and you quickly shake your head, straightening up in your seat. “No! No, of course not. Not at all.”

A wave of relief washes over him at your immediate response, but he still felt the need to reassure you and to get started with the project as well. “Okay, good. I’m glad we got that out of the way. It’s just...”

He bites his lower lip for a moment, pondering how to phrase his words. “I know we’re not exactly the best people to be paired, but we’re a team now. And we have to make this work. Let’s set aside our differences for a while. I’m sure that would be fine with you?”

You go still in surprise at his seriousness, but Jungwon takes it as hesitance on your part so he speaks up again. “You can nitpick me all you want after all of this but just for now—just for the whole timeframe of these projects...let’s have a truce.”

“Yes, of course,” you nod immediately and give him a half-smile. “We’re going to work. Nothing personal here.”

He sees the hint of bashfulness in your expression, but he’s just glad that you didn’t ignore or refuse him, unlike what he was expecting. He nods and kindly returns your smile before he turns his laptop to you.

“Let’s start with dividing our tasks.”

Within a few hours, you both managed to work in silence, but the awkwardness had gradually slipped now and was replaced with a sense of cooperation, understanding that this was a serious matter that needed your wits and not your arguments.

You weren’t exactly expecting to have a full-on debate with Yang Jungwon when you had both decided to work in the library, but it felt like a pleasant surprise to be in the same vicinity as him in hours and not get into an intellectual sparring.

Time quickly passed by and soon enough, you two decided to wrap things up for the day. As you checked the time on your phone, Jungwon couldn’t help but notice the ragdoll cat on your lockscreen, recognizing what it was in an instant even though it was upside down in his direction.

“You like cats?”

Although surprised at his attempt to start a conversation, you realized that he caught the picture and you turned the screen to face him. “Yeah. It’s my cat. Her name’s Chloe.”

His eyes lit up and you didn’t know why but at that moment, Jungwon’s eyes seemed cat-like to you. The thought made you still, your gaze lingering on him a little longer than you had meant to.

You had always seen how unfairly beautiful it was from afar, and now you felt star-struck observing them closely; they were almond-shaped and perfectly curved—somehow making his eyes look bigger, and tapered elegantly near the ends, every speck in its irises reflecting the golden hue of the afternoon sun like a mirror ball.

You wished you had eyes as pretty as his.

“Oh, cool. She looks adorable. I like cats as well, though I’m allergic to them.” His soft laugh brings you out of your thoughts and he scans through his phone to show you something. “But here, I have a dog. His name is Maeum.”

Unexpectedly, you fall into a light conversation with Yang Jungwon about your pets, the discussion going further even as you walked through the halls until you parted ways to go home.

The unlikely chat gave you an odd sense of comfort, only realizing how relaxed you were as you walked towards the bus stop, a far cry from how you felt when you first sat across Jungwon at the library.

You could hardly believe it, and your mind was still absorbing the event as you arrived at your home. A decent talk with Yang Jungwon without having the urge to bicker with him. All because you both had pets.

It felt silly to think about. But for the nth time that day, you realized that maybe Rei was right after all. You might have more in common than you think and it was a good start of forming a professional relationship with Yang Jungwon.

The thought didn’t seem so bad now, you were open to it. A chance for something new.

enhypen - not for sale, tfw 𓇗 troye sivan, gordi - wait

On your fourth day of working together, things were unfortunately not working out for you, making you a little grumpier than usual. Jungwon notices, but he doesn’t say anything until he hears you grumbling under your breath.

It just so happened that you injured your finger due to a clumsy mistake yesterday, and it hurt so bad that you couldn’t even tie your precious hair. It kept on falling over your face as you typed onto your laptop, but when you tried to put it up into a ponytail, the cut on your finger would hurt like hell.

Jungwon couldn’t bear to just mirror your winces any longer. So he rises from his seat and rounds the table to get to your side.

“Let me help you.”

Before you could even process his words, he already grabbed the scrunchie from your wrist and your brush, while his other hand begins to gently gather your hair as he stood behind you.

“What are you—”

“Just keep on working.”

Your fingers awkwardly hover above the keyboard at first, unsure how to take the sudden help. But as he starts brushing your hair with his fingers as gently as he could, you slowly relax and go back to your work, your mind half-occupied with him.

Unknown to you, the boy was just as nervous, maybe even more. He couldn’t believe how flustered he was getting at the feeling of your soft strands under his fingertips, despite being the one who offered to help in the first place, especially since it wasn’t just about your wincing—he knows that you can’t focus if your hair is in an unkempt state.

Jungwon internally swears he isn’t a creep.

He only knows because he witnessed you several times tying your hair up when you need to focus on something, he would also see you raking a hand over your hair in frustration when it’s just cascading down your shoulders, which oddly makes you look attractive.

Objectively, he claims internally once more.

After a few minutes, he gives your head a few pats to ensure that it was neatly styled, before going back to his seat. You mutter “thank you” and you think he’s finally done, but he doesn’t respond with a single word. Instead, he takes out a tin case and squeeze tube from his backpack and gently grabs your hand across the table, much to your surprise.

“Why—” your words were cut off once more when he dabs a bit of antibiotic ointment on your finger before rolling a Cinnamoroll-print band-aid on it, his touch feather-light as he gauges your reaction for any discomfort, expecting a wince the most.

But you could only stare at him in pure astonishment, your mind reeling from his actions for the past minutes.

“Where did you cut yourself? You should be more careful,” he casually says as he puts the tin case back to his bag. “And put a band-aid on it next time. You could get an infection.”

At a loss for words, you only give him an awkward nod and go back to your work even though your mind was still stuck on what he did. Despite your bashfulness, you didn’t want to seem ungrateful for his act either so you just muttered “thank you” once more.

Jungwon acknowledges it with a nod and his gaze lingers on you for a few moments before he decides to get to his own tasks as well, more focused now that he sees you at ease while working.

You both work in peace for the following hours, conversations only filled with questions and comments about the project, with the occasional off-topic subjects that sneaked in.

By the end of the day, Jungwon realizes that with the softening of your long-standing rivalry, a mutual respect had always existed between the two of you, his observation echoing in the way you had both eased into the truce.

As a matter of fact, Jungwon had even began to hope that it wasn’t just a truce. That maybe if this dance of a burgeoning understanding with the two of you would grow, perhaps, you could be something more than each other’s worthy rivals.

It has now been 9 days since you started working together and although you still had a few banters and intellectual debates here and there, things were pretty much going well between the two of you, especially when it came to the projects.

You had also made an effort to learn a little about Jungwon. His favorite color is blue and orange, he was raised by his grandma, he likes curry and strawberries with chocolate, he did taekwondo for 7 years, he had a cactus named Injang who has now crossed the rainbow bridge (rest in peace), and he weirdly loves ‘slay’ as a slang. He has learnt the word and never looked back since then.

Jungwon learned some basic things about you as well and as much as you disliked it, you did have some common ground after all. You had even started to bond over things like your overbearing teachers and stressful exams, a surprising amount of shared interests and hobbies popping up as you got to know each other throughout the days.

At some point during the past week, you even had the chance to witness him in his leader mode at the student council office. He was seriously running the place like an actual president, as a resolute yet empathetic leader.

While the council members wondered why you were patiently waiting for Jungwon to finish his job, knowing the history between you two, you were busy admiring how focused he was with his work and the way he interacted with his members. It gave you a new-found layer of respect for him.

And with every passing day, the atmosphere between you two were becoming lighter at the goal of only making it through the projects without turning into ardent debaters, even when you still had occasional disagreements.

It was 3 in the afternoon as you found yourselves in the same spot at the library, silently working on your laptops and papers. Despite the intense focus that Jungwon had on his own tasks, he couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes were getting droopy and how you would lean your head onto your palm.

He thinks that naturally, you must be tired, but he was too cautious to say anything until you brought out a tablet from your bag along with your tumbler and a small packet of crackers.

“What are you drinking that for?”

“Headache,” you simply reply. His forehead creases and he points to the crackers in your hands.

“And you’re only eating that?”

“Why not?”

“That’s not enough.”

“But I have to nap after. I can’t have anything heavy.”

“You need something better.”

“Jungwon, I always do this.”

He heaves a deep sigh at your defiance and quickly stands up. “Wait here. Don’t do anything yet.”

He was already out of the library before you could even reply, and you decided to wait just as he asked, even though you were already itching to just gulp down the medicine.

You didn’t know if Jungwon had a superhuman speed of some sort as 5 minutes later, he was already back at your table, holding a small box of precut oranges and a tuna mayo sandwich.

He wordlessly drops them in front of you before he goes back to his seat, running a hand through his hair from the race he had just brought upon himself. You glance at the foods at the table, feeling a very strange warmth spread through your chest at what he did.

How does he even know that this was the sandwich you liked and always ordered at the cafeteria? Was it just a coincidence? Or perhaps, he must’ve noticed it when you went together last time?

“Um...thank you.” He nods and warmly smiles in spite of your awkwardness, and you quietly begin to unwrap the sandwich so you can already take the medication.

Jungwon takes a few moments to observe your figure, his eyes noticing the weariness in your own, which wasn’t that visible if not looked upon closely.

He forces himself to tear his gaze away and begins typing again, but he couldn’t stop himself from commenting, masking his concern with a nonchalant tone.

“You know, Y/N, I can’t believe how you’ve always had the energy to argue with me when you’re this careless of yourself.”

“...what?”

“You always prioritize your studies and other people before yourself. Sometimes you would even skip meals. Rei and Liz would be at the cafeteria without you and you’re up in our room or God knows where, doing something to push yourself even more.”

You can’t hold back from asking this time. “How did you—”

“It’s not cute, really,” Jungwon deflects. “What if you collapse one day? Your grades wouldn’t save you, Y/N. Some people out there would be worried about you.”

Like me, he thinks.

“Okay...?” You chew slowly, unsure just how to respond with his gentle scolding. “I...I do take care of myself.”

“Really?” He scoffs. “When? How?”

“Like...right now.”

“Yeah, right. You would’ve taken those nasty crackers if I wasn’t here.” He rolls his eyes and you couldn’t help but smile a little, seeing through his apparent exasperated act.

Once you were done, you laid your arms on the table and rested the side of your head on it, and Jungwon’s gaze lands from his laptop to you, silently checking for any sign of distress.

“I’ll just take a nap, Jungwon. I promise. I’ll help you when I—”

“No,” he shakes his head even when your eyes had already closed. “Take your time. To be honest, you should be at the nurse’s office instead.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t force yourself to only nap,” he interjects again. “Just take your time. I’ll watch over you.”

The last thing you remember before falling asleep is a mix of awe and gratitude at Jungwon’s caring nature, a sense of security embracing you.

He stayed true to his word and looked at you from time to time, brushing the hair that fell across your face to not block your breathing and even draping his cardigan over you to keep you warm and comfortable as you slept.

A swirl of strange emotions bubbled up within Jungwon whenever he took in the sight of your peaceful sleeping form, and he couldn’t understand why. He would’ve done the same thing for Riki and Sunoo if they were in your position. Or anyone, actually.

But something about your frustrating stubbornness that perpetually bothered him every time makes him feel a near sense of protectiveness towards you, and he was sure it was crazy to even think of.

You had already clarified that you weren’t scared of or mad at him, so he couldn’t even fathom why you seemed to dislike him before you were put together for the projects. Had he unknowingly wronged you in the past? Was it something he did that irked you? Were you perhaps, uncomfortable or overwhelmed with how bubbly he is? He was clueless.

But what he knows is that he wouldn’t give up on your stubborn side, and he’d be willing to show you that he could be a good friend just as he was a good rival to you.

However, as much as Jungwon thinks you’re the most stubborn person he’s ever met, you could basically say the same about him.

It was now your sixteenth day of working together with the student council president and you swear you would probably kick the boy if he doesn’t have a fever right now.

“Y/N, for the last time, I’m fine.”

“Fine?” You raise an eyebrow. “Does “fine” mean sweating like crazy with a flushed face and reading the same page again and again for the past 15 minutes? Is that the definition of fine to you?”

“Well, I can power through this. Trust me.” He smiles at you but you don’t buy his words for even a bit. Not when he looks like he’s about to pass out at any moment.

“Oh, please.” He only chuckles at your eye roll, but you’re seriously not having it anymore. “Jungwon, I’ve had enough. You’re going to the clinic. Now.”

“I told you, I’m— whoa!” You quickly pull him up to his feet after cleaning up your things, your firm grip on his hand making it clear that there was no longer room for argument.

You go off about how stubborn he is at studying despite being sick, but it doesn’t mean it’s good for him to do so. However, your words fall on deaf ears as Jungwon could only focus on the way your hand feels in his and the evident concern in your voice, wrapping his heart with an unfamiliar warmth in a way he never expected.

Anyone could tell by the scowl on your face that you were just being stern as usual, but Jungwon oddly thinks to himself that you rather look like an adorable, grumpy kitten.

A faint smile plays on his lips at the thought, and he pushes down a sudden urge to just ruffle your hair and pinch your cheek—something he didn’t want to acknowledge at why he even thought of in the first place.

A few days later, Jungwon finds himself in the same predicament as he stands under the drizzling rain and hears your voice calling out to him in the distance.

“Yang Jungwon, what are you doing?!”

He barely had time to think of an answer before you marched towards him with an umbrella in your hand, frustration and worry written all over your face.

Jungwon wonders why your expression and nagging at how he’s being careless—considering he had just recovered from a fever—was making his heart beat like crazy, when he was supposed to find it annoying, or at least that’s what he’d like to think.

“It’s fine,” he smiles at you as if the back and shoulders of his blazer isn’t already damp from a few minutes of standing under the drizzle. “You worry too much, Y/N.”

“Or you’re just a bit careless sometimes, really,” you roll your eyes at him but he only returns it with a laugh, completely enamored by your kind nature, even if you expressed it by nagging at him.

He found himself oddly comforted with the respectful banter that had grown between the two of you for the past weeks, feeling like your rivalry had began to chip away with every laugh and joke that you shared.

By the 20th day (yes, you were keeping track of how many days it has been), the both of you were now comfortable enough to tease each other, a banter that for the first time in your lives, held no underlying tension. It took you some time to realize that your rivalry was non-existent now, as if something unspoken had shined through your dynamics.

Today was no different as the two of you settled on the same table you’ve been occupying for the past few weeks, the nook almost serving as a hang-out spot now, or your romantic rendezvous, as Rei and Liz would like to call it.

You had just ended your PE class and you already went ahead to the library, using your spare period to work on the project, much to the surprise and teasing of your and Jungwon’s friends. They couldn’t buy your excuse as a pair of wanting to use any free time to do something productive.

You were just about to open your laptop when you noticed how the top button of Jungwon’s shirt was undone and his necktie loose, showing a glimpse of his collarbone. His forehead was still glistening with a sheen of sweat, an evidence of how fervently he played dodgeball earlier. He must’ve missed it when he changed uniforms.

“Jungwon,” you call out, your gaze lingering a little longer than you had intended to on his slightly exposed skin. “Your...shirt.”

You awkwardly gesture to him and realize how you had been staring, quickly looking away to scan the interface of your laptop. He follows your gaze to his uniform and he immediately understands but as he goes to touch to button, he slowly looks back at you, a sly smile forming on his face.

“Y/N.”

You only hum in response and glance at him, but you weren’t able to tear your gaze away this time as you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“How did you see it anyway? Were you staring right there, hmm?”

You gape in bewilderment, eyes going wide at his accusation. “Wha— I wasn’t! I-I just happened to see it!”

“Oh really?” He shows off his signature eyebrow raise with a smirk, and the sight makes him somehow both annoying and attractive to you.

“I— Yang Jungwon, I am not a pervert!” He chuckles at your sulky frown, the low and warm sound of it only making you hate how he’s having so much fun right now.

He hums and looks away, feigning a serious consideration at your words. “Hmm, I do think that’s a little pervy, Y/N.”

You crumple a piece of paper and throw it at him, but he swiftly dodges it as he laughs. “Just kidding, just kidding. I was just teasing you.”

He goes to button his shirt and tighten his necktie while you bring out a DSLR camera and turn your laptop on, planning to transfer some files. Jungwon, ever the curious cat that he is, comes over to sit right beside you and peeks into your camera.

“What are you doing?”

“Just some stuff.”

Jungwon huffs at your short reply but he continues to watch as you expertly manage the device. “Are those your shots?”

“Mm, they’re mine. Just a hobby though.” He hums at your answer while his eyes remain on the screen, making amused sounds at almost every photo he sees.

“So you like photography?”

You shrug, reluctant to give a certain answer. “I just like to shoot pretty things.”

“I’m pretty too. You can shoot me.”

“Oh, like shoot you with an arrow?”

He bursts out laughing at your sarcasm, and you gently hit his arm, reminding him that you were in the library. Once his laughter dies down, his gaze shifts from you and the camera as he speaks with a casual tone.

“They’re really beautiful. You have a talent for this.”

A genuine smile lit up your face at his compliment, though you couldn’t hold back a slightly smug reply. “Thanks. Are you impressed?”

He smiles. “Do you want me to be?”

Amusement and disbelief mixes together as you blink at him, completely taken aback by his response. Was this flirting? Was he flirting? Or were you just too flustered by nothing? He smirks at your reaction and you roll your eyes, pretending to be unfazed.

“I don’t really care.” But a part of you thinks that maybe you actually cared. You wanted him to be impressed. And he seems to have read your thoughts.

“I am impressed. That’s amazing, honestly.” You felt a bit shy, quietly replying words of gratitude. But Jungwon doesn’t stop there and decides to continue showering you with praises so casually as you begin to move files from the camera to the laptop.

“I’ve always thought you were talented, but the more we talked these days, I saw how you were a lot more admirable than I initially thought.” He rests his cheek on his fist and stares at you. “You’re very intelligent and hardworking. Creative too. Not that I’m only realizing it now. I just wanted to say it.”

“What has gotten into you?” You incredulously ask him, but the smile on your face betrays how you truly feel and he sees it too.

“Nothing.” He shrugs. “Is it so bad to speak of the truth now? You are admirable. Even when you’re very stubborn sometimes. And you’re always so composed too. I like how you think things through carefully.”

“Well um...thank you.” Jungwon smiles at the mellifluous laugh that bubbles up from you, your hands now working on autopilot as you absorb his words.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re just as admirable. You work really hard as a student and as the council president. That’s a tough job. You make everything look so easy, but it must be really hard.”

The curve of his lips turn into a subtle one, your words touching his heart more than he’d like to admit. He falls upon the realization that in spite of your old rivalry, you both shared a respect of and valued each other’s intelligence and abilities.

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” he replies softly. “Can I ask you something though?”

“Sure.”

He takes a short pause as if contemplating what he wants to say before he finally speaks up.

“I was just wondering why...why you always seem to push yourself so hard. Not that it’s completely bad, but it’s just, I feel like you’re straining yourself sometimes. You’re not...being pressured by anyone, are you?”

You get the implication of his words in an instant and you shake your head. “No, no. My parents aren’t like that. They’re very supportive, actually.”

He slowly nods, and he gets the sense that you wouldn’t want to directly say that it’s you who pressures yourself. Even without your confirmation, he could feel it. “So what is it then?”

He’s confused at the casual shrug you give him, not buying how you’re playing it off as something insignificant. “It’s nothing. And it’s kind of stupid even.”

He straightens up in his seat and slightly moves closer, his gentle voice coaxing you. “I’m certain it’s not “stupid”. If you’re comfortable, you can tell me. I’ll listen.”

You take a few moments to consider his words, keeping your eyes trained on the screen as you hoped you wouldn’t break down into tears.

“I want to make my parents proud.”

Jungwon felt like his heart dropped at the subdued sadness in your voice and he stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

“They’re usually away for work. At first it was just my dad, then my mom followed. I...I just don’t want to make their sacrifices go to waste. The least I could do is study hard and prove myself worthy of why they’re working for our family. So I have to be good enough. I want to be at my best.”

You take a shuddery deep breath, still keeping in the urge to break down. “For myself too, I guess. I know I can be better. I can’t be complacent. I know there’s more to me and I will push myself to reach that.”

He listens intently as you speak and when you were done, he tentatively touches your arm and speaks softly. “You are good enough, Y/N. I’m sure your parents know that. And I know they wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself. Nobody would want you to.”

As you tear your gaze away from the monitor, your eyes meet Jungwon’s, a sense of empathy and understanding surrounding the air as you gazed at each other. You didn’t know why, but it made your heart swell, seeing and feeling his concern for you.

His hand moved to go on top of yours, patting it reassuringly. “You know, my...my parents are often away from home too. So I understand.”

The strained smile that flickered across his face tells you that he didn’t just understand, he must have struggled with it too, one way or another.

“They’re um...highly regarded in their own fields, I would say. So, often very busy. And though I won’t exactly pursue their careers, I want to follow their footsteps and be just as outstanding. I want to make them proud too. But beyond that...”

He nibbled on his bottom lip, eyes drifting away for a moment before looking back at you. It was easy to tell that Jungwon was opening up to you right now, unexpectedly finding comfort in your presence as his vulnerability showed through with every word that tore down his defenses, feelings that he thought were buried for so long now coming to the surface.

“I just want to prove myself...to me. To prove myself worthy with every accomplishment that I make. It’s why one of the things I admired about you is how you seem so put together.” He wryly laughs, and you could feel your heart shatter. “I wish I was always like that. I only seem like it from the outside. But everything feels like a huge mess inside of me. Like a fire that I can’t tame.”

Your heart breaks even more at his confession, shock and sympathy both crashing over you like a tidal wave. Not only had Jungwon implied that he wished he had something that you had, but he also confessed to feeling like he wasn’t good enough. That somehow, even with all the good things he had going on, he still felt like an utter chaos within.

You wanted to tell him that your “put together” demeanor was just an unconscious facade as well, but you couldn’t seem to find the right words to say at the moment. It was only then that you had realized, you were both seeing yourselves in an almost distorted way, a pretense looming over your characters like a shadow.

You wanted to return his encouragement with the only words that ran through your mind, your hand gently taking his in what you hoped would offer even a bit of comfort, and gave the most reassuring smile you could muster.

“You’re doing great, Yang Jungwon. You’re loved.”

Your few words, despite its simplicity, brings a soft smile to his face, and he quickly laughs away the tears that lined in his eyes, squeezing your hand in silent gratitude.

“I guess I am.” He intertwines your fingers as his smile turns into a grin, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. “I think we’re both doing great, Y/N. We’re loved.”

A comfortable silence filled the air, your eyes locked in a moment of understanding and comfort in each other’s presence before Jungwon speaks up again.

“So, you think we should arrange a double date for our parents sometime?” You couldn’t help but snort at his randomness but he only continues, feigning a serious look. “That’d be fun. And of course, we’d join too. It’s like a family night out or something.”

You shake your head, and Jungwon is barely unable to resist a giggle. “Great thinking, genius.”

“Why, thank you.” He gives you a pretend bow and he chuckles at his own antics.

You share a few more minutes of almost unending jokes and laughter, before deciding that a quick trip to the cafeteria was now more appealing than doing the project in your spare time.

The two of you knew for sure now that something had definitely shifted in your relationship, seeing each other from a new perspective that you had ignored for how many years.

Jungwon felt a sense of relief at the realization, knowing that the danced he had hoped to last for a little longer was now blooming into something real—a genuine connection between the two of you that he had always longed for.

𓇗 enhypen - orange flower 𓇗

It was almost two months now from the day you settled on a truce with Jungwon for the sake of your grades. You had stopped tracking your days with him after the 30th, realizing that there was no point to count anymore on how long it would take for the two of you to fight again. You initially betted it would only take a week.

Your first project was drawing to a close and as much as you’re quite embarassed to outwardly admit it, you have grown fond of working with him, or just spending time with him in general. It came to a point that your friend groups have now become closer too, with the six of you usually seen at the cafeteria or just messing around together during your free hours.

You didn’t know how you managed to actually be civil and hold more decent (maybe even fun) conversations with Yang Jungwon in just two months than you did in the past years.

On one relaxing afternoon, you decided to take a break by going to the garden with your camera. You went around and captured every pretty thing that you found, from the blue skies to the whole landscape and the mesmerizing flowers in sight.

As you went around, continously clicking the shutter button, one particular flower catches your eye through the lens and you crouch down to get a closer look.

They were of a bluish purple color and bell-shaped, bowing down on the stem as if shying away from the sun. You reached out to graze its petals, its soft feel against your fingertips and the enticing hue making you think of only one thing.

...beautiful.

“They’re called Bluebells.”

You whip your head to the side and see the student council president standing idly with his hands shoved in his pockets, his gaze shifting from the blooms to you.

“You like it?” He walks closer until he was just about two steps away from your crouching form and the both of you turn to look at the flowers again.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “They’re pretty.”

Jungwon hums in response, a small smile playing along his lips. “They remind me of you.”

You quickly turn to him, and he only chuckles at the sound of surprise that you made.

“Bluebells...they often represent humility and modesty, among with a lot more things.” His gaze travels from the flowers to your eyes then he smiles softly. “And they all remind me of you.”

Okay, pause. What was Yang Jungwon spewing out of his mouth right now? And why was it suddenly making your heart race?

Flustered by his comment, you turn your head away and try to play it cool, although Jungwon completely sees through you. How could he not when your face was glowing with a soft, delicate pink?

“Oh, really?” You ask in a nonchalant tone. “Where did you even learn that?”

“My grandma likes gardening. She taught me everything about plants since I was a kid. Eventually, I learnt the meanings of some flowers too. You know, floriography?”

You nod in response and he continues. “Yeah, that. I’m not really an expert, I would say. But I definitely have some knowledge on it.”

“Oh...” you unknowingly whisper. “That’s cool.”

Jungwon smirks at your comment, finding an opportunity to possibly fluster you again. “Are you impressed?”

You scoff as he uses your own words from last time, and you lift an eyebrow at him. “Do you want me to be?”

He gives you a lopsided smile and shrugs. “To be honest, I kind of want you to.”

And there it was. Jungwon laughs softly at the second wave of coral blush that paints across your face, and you pretend to be unbothered by standing up and rolling your eyes. “Whatever.”

You walk away and approach the fountain nearby, but Jungwon promptly catches up and you’re not sure whether you’re annoyed or endeared by his loud and genuine laugh.

“Hey, Bluebell! Wait for me!”

You sit by the rim of the fountain, the lush sound of the flowing water and the mindless scanning through your camera’s gallery doing nothing to distract you from what Jungwon had said.

What did he even mean by that? And if it meant what you thought it did, then why were you so affected? You weren’t stupid enough to draw a plausible conclusion, but the thought itself was stupid—that maybe you were feeling just a little something for Yang Jungwon.

Maybe it’s just because of how cute he was and that oh so adorable dimple of his. Right. That’s it.

Jungwon sits beside you by the fountain, though he maintains a respectful distance, just in case you were still feeling flustered. “I really did mean that, Bluebell.”

The shift in his voice and his repeated use of the flower’s name to address you sends your mind in a frenzy, unable to focus on the several photos you were distractedly scanning.

“...that you remind me of all that there is to the flower. They’re all good things, I promise you. Like faithfulness, hope, and dreams. And...I was honestly hoping you’d be impressed. That wasn’t a joke.”

His earnest admission makes you finally look up, and you abruptly push aside your nerves to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I-I was impressed. If that’s what you wanted to hear. I...that, that’s cool. The floriography and everything.”

Jungwon fondly smiles at your response, adoring how bashful yet honest you were. “And the bluebell too,” you add. “I um...thanks. I suppose...I should learn about it sometime.”

“You should,” Jungwon gently ruffles your hair and you try to act nonchalant again. “It’s fun. I can even tell you the meaning of every flower you’d capture. How’s that?”

You give him a nod and Jungwon smiles, giving you a mini lecture at once about floriography, and he even mentions to you that his grandmother likes white lilies, which symbolized purity and rebirth.

As he continues to talk about the language of flowers, you barely notice how time passes by, only becoming aware again when the warm glow of the sun fell on Jungwon’s face, making him look unbelievably ethereal.

The way his eyes sparkled as he spoke enthusiastically, his face brightening up with glee and laughter—Jungwon was the epitome of a pretty and charming boy, your rivalry didn’t blind you from it. But has he always looked this beautiful? The sight of the golden rays highlighting his features seemed to echo your thoughts of seeing him in a new light after all these years.

It reminded you of how much you didn’t know about Jungwon yet. But in spite of it, you knew that even if the prettiest flower were in sight, you already had a beautiful one to catch in frame—right beside you.

It was very telling of his name. Garden. Jungwon was like a gardenscape, every piece of his life a flower that held a story in it, something that you found more interesting than any of the flowers he had told you of.

And a whisper in your heart bloomed, yearning for a chance to explore that garden.

enhypen - just a little bit 𓇗 lauv - steal the show

One day, during a row of vacant hours in your schedule, you found yourselves sitting at your usual spot in the library, agreeing to review and revise a few things in your project.

But you left your laptop at home, not expecting the free time that you had been blessed with today. So you decide to give your flash drive to Jungwon instead for him to have access to your side of the work.

However, he quickly takes notice of the exhaustion on your features, sensing that you hadn’t been able to take a good rest. He casually tells you to go take a nap while he takes care of the presentation, and you couldn’t help but argue for a little while, feeling a bit guilty that you’d just sleep on him while he does the work.

Jungwon wasn’t one to quickly back down though. He feels a little frustrated at how the two of you have been going back and forth on the matter when you could just simply comply to his suggestion and take your much needed rest.

But his genuine concern for you overpowered his vexation, fully intent on giving you what you needed rather than have you work without focus and just strain yourself further. And so you finally caved in, but not without asking one last time to be really positive that it was fine with him.

“Jungwon, are you sure?”

He sighs for the nth time and slowly nods to reaffirm his approval, certain that he was on the verge of just manifesting a pillow out of thin air if he could, just so you would already sleep.

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m not going to repeat myself, Y/N. Go take a rest. I’ll handle this.”

“Fine.” You defeatedly sigh and rest your arms and head on the table. “Just don’t mess around with my movies and stuff in there. You might end up deleting something.”

“Oh,” Jungwon slightly leans forward to the screen and playfully squints his eyes at some of the folders, “like enha lore edits, enha performances, animated films—”

You immediately lift your head up and shoot him a half-hearted glare, but he only snickers at your reaction and shakes his head amusedly.

“Jungwon, I swear, if you touch those folders and something goes missing—”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He brings his hand up to do a scout’s honor gesture, a wide grin plastered on his face. “I promise. Just the project.”

You feign a scoff of disbelief before bringing your head down again and muttering. “You better. Or else...”

Jungwon waits for you to continue your words, but after a minute or so, he sees your eyes shut, your breathing slow and steady. Seeing the peaceful expression on your face brings a faint smile to his face before he goes back to his laptop and start to work.

He glances at you from time to time to check how you’re doing, relieved that you’re still taking your rest. He knows you’d probably get mad at him for not waking you up by the time you had set, but in his defense, he simply found it hard to wake you up when you looked like you really needed that sleep.

A bit more than an hour passes by when Jungwon decides to take a break from working and stretches his arms, his gaze falling to you for a moment before he skims over the file to view his progress.

Once he’s done, he plays around with the cursor and scrolls through the folders out of boredom. Suddenly, one of the folders open without him intending to and panic sets in him right away as he straightens up and looks for the exit button.

He promised to not view any of your other files and even when you’re asleep, he did not want to break that. However, just as he was about to press on it, one of the thumbnails catch his attention and makes him still for a moment.

His eyes dart across the screen, seeing “y/n’s camcorder” as the folder’s name and a few dozen other videos whose thumbnail alone was enough to tell that these were some video logs of some sort. But the one that made him freeze earlier was something he would have never expected to see in your flash drive. Him.

He leaned forward to observe the stilled frame closely, and there was no mistake in it. It looked like him years ago. What was he doing in your videos? Did you just happen to catch him in your camera?

Jungwon takes another glance at your sleeping form, torn between his curiosity and the promise he had made to you. But eventually, the former won and he felt a pang of guilt as he clicked on the video to play.

He immediately lowers the volume, just enough for him to hear and moves the laptop away from you as much as possible, straining his eyes and ears as he watched.

“Hello, this is Y/N and um...today, we’re at the school festival. I’m with my friends...”

He immediately realizes that this video was from a few years ago, seeing how young and awkward you looked, and the familiar school shirt you were wearing. It didn’t take long for him to recognize what year it was and you mentioning the date only confirmed it. This was taken in 8th grade.

“Is that your vlog?”

“Y/N, you should start a channel.”

“I want to try the cotton candies!”

“Wait, my shoelaces are—”

Your friends’ voices were mixing together, along with the noises of other students in the background and the music from the band nearby. Even the camera started getting shaky as your laughter filled the air, your joy evident through the screen.

Jungwon couldn’t help but smile at the sight, and he figures that maybe you just really happened to capture him for a moment, that’s why he was on the thumbnail. He goes over to the exit button but just like earlier, something immediately makes him stop from finally doing it.

The camera turns around to no particular direction, the surroundings caught in a constant blur before it finally settles on something. The busy chatters of all the students including your friends were still heard in the background, but your voice wasn’t there anymore and the camera was now stable, as if you had stilled upon the sight that seeped to your lens. It was then that Jungwon’s heart skipped a beat and realized why he saw himself in the frame earlier.

You were recording him.

And it wasn’t just a mere second, or even a few. You had filmed him from a distance as he managed a stall with some classmates, a wide smile etched on his face while he moved around and interacted with the other students. He even laughs for a moment and despite the low volume he set on the laptop, Jungwon swears he heard a soft laugh from you too.

Suddenly, he turned his head to a certain direction and you must’ve panicked that he would see you, because the camera whipped around to literally anywhere but his stall, laughing as you pretended to be engaged in your friends’ discussion.

His mind raced with several thoughts in an instant as the video went on. 8th grade. The year your rivalry bubbled up. School festival. But this happened before that.

Why were you recording him for almost a minute? He wasn’t even doing anything that you could possibly use against him. He was just there doing his work, and you were filming him like you had caught something special that you wanted to...preserve. Impossible.

Jungwon snaps from his thoughts as he hears you stir, and he quickly drags the cursor to the exit button several times until his laptop’s main interface was now on display. He feels like he had just committed a crime.

As you repeatedly blink awake and focus your eyes on your wristwatch, Jungwon wonders if you had heard the sounds from the video or it just really happened that you’ve had enough rest now.

He notices your lingering stare at the time and he gets the feeling that you’re both disappointed and relieved that he didn’t wake you up in 30 minutes, but he knows you’d certainly be mad at him once he tells you what he did, because he couldn’t bring himself to lie.

He waits a little longer to see if you’re already fully awake and as you start to gather some of your things to begin working again, he takes a deep breath to brace himself.

“Y/N...”

You pause for a moment and look up at him, sensing a tinge of anxiety in his voice. Setting your things aside for now, you cross your arms on the table and response with a hum, urging him to continue.

The longer he looked into your eyes, the more that his curiosity and guilt grew and he didn’t even know if he would be prepared for your wrath.

“Y/N, I...please, just let me explain first, alright? I swear, I really didn’t mean to. And you can shout and beat me up later but not here in the library.”

Confusion spreads across your face at his words, the hint of desperation in his voice not escaping your keen observation. Did he actually go into your folders and accidentally delete one of the files?

You reluctantly give him a nod, silently giving him the signal to continue again. Jungwon rubs his sweaty palms at the end of his blazer and he takes another deep breath before he looks you in the eye, his words coming out rushed and yet still clear.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry that I found your camcorder folder. I promise, I did not mean to snoop around, but it just suddenly opened then I saw my face in one of the frames so I clicked on the video and I watched the first few minutes and I was really there.”

Your lips part in surprise, and you honestly didn’t know how to react other than take a glance at his laptop before looking back at him as he kept on confessing.

“I was just curious but I didn’t watch all of it! Just, just the part where I was, and I know it wasn’t an excuse to break what I promised to you. But please believe me, I’m really, really, really sorry, Y/N.”

His breathing was slightly ragged as he finished talking, and despite the guilt gnawing at him, he did not break the eye contact, wanting you to know how sincere he was with the apology. But the lack of response from you made him a little nervous, and he couldn’t help but speak once more.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry, I—” you ignore the most apologetic look you’ve ever seen on his face and grab his laptop without a word, quickly searching for the file he had opened.

Of course, you knew what it was. You knew what video he was talking about, you knew all too well why you had done it, but you wanted to see it for yourself just one more time before you speak up.

He feels as if he’s been holding his breath for so long as he waits for your response, and he nearly apologizes again but then he hears your voice, though your words wasn’t what he was expecting at all.

“I think I need to explain myself.”

A big “what?” echoed in his mind as you put the laptop back to his side and gave him a serious look, like you were preparing for a speech. Why should you be explaining yourself when he’s the one who made a mistake?

“First off, apology accepted.” He breathes a sigh of relief but his face remains somber, the guilt still lingering on him. “I didn’t know you would take ‘curiosity kills the cat’ seriously just because you’re a cat, but you’re lucky I didn’t kill you.”

He lets out a small laugh at your dry humor and he feels his nerves gradually slip away, finding himself amused that you were still able to joke even in a situation like this.

“And next...” you purse your lips for a moment to gather the words in your mind, his eyes slightly widening as he waited with curiosity. “Okay, promise me first you’re not going to think I’m a creep.”

He blinks a few times, unsure if he had heard you right before he bursts in a quiet laugh. He raises his hand up to do a gesture of promise and shakes his head, biting down on his lower lip to suppress another laugh.

You take a deep breath and speak at a normal pace, not wanting to stumble over your words and appear exactly like the person you just made him promise to not think of you.

“That day...I’m not sure if you remember, but it was in 8th grade.” He gives you a nod and your mind flashes back to the day when it happened.

You were turning your camcorder everywhere to find a good spot to film in spite of your friends’ chaos behind you and unintentionally, the camera lands on a certain stall in the distance, a boy captured perfectly in frame as you stared through the screen.

He looked quite familiar. You’ve seen him somewhere, you’re sure of it. Must be the bulletin board or something. You unwittingly stay recording him while your friends bicker about which stall to go to first, and then it finally clicked on you.

Yang Jungwon. Star student. Class monitor and known for his kindness. This was him? Heavens, he looked really...adorable.

Or even the most beautiful person you’d ever seen in your whole life.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. You were just an 8th grader. You haven’t even finished the first quarter of your life yet. But damn, he really did look like the cutest boy you’ve ever come across, albeit from a distance.

Smart, kind, and cute? And oh. He has that lovely dimple adorning his face, deepening everytime he smiles. Maybe you even have a small crush on this Yang Jungwon right now. Sure, you didn’t know him that well, at least not yet. But he just looked...so lovely.

Then, that sliver of attraction vanished just as quick as it had appeared when you heard that damned comment from him weeks later along with the look he sent you across the room—and it completely disappeared into ashes when you became classmates by the next year.

“I don’t know if you remember too, but this was before,” You make an animated gesture to emphasize, “this whole thing happened between us.”

He nods. “I remember.”

His confirmation starts to make your heart race and you could only hope that your explanation would make sense to him. “Okay. So, I’m sure you must be wondering why I...did that.”

“The truth is that, I really didn’t mean to record you that day. I was just looking for something to film and my camera happened to land on your stall—and you were there. I was trying to remember who you are, Yang Jungwon, and I also thought you were really pretty.”

Jungwon’s boba-like eyes grow wide at your confession, and he tries to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at it. You intentionally left out the crush part and looked away as you continued.

“I-I know, that probably doesn’t make sense because you didn’t like me, but it’s not like I was exactly blind to—”

“Wait,” Jungwon quickly interrupts, his eyes narrowing at your words, “I...I disliked you? Me?” He asks incredulously, and now you were both looking confusedly at each other.

“Yeah...?” Despite your puzzlement, you were certain of your reason. You couldn’t forget it, even after all these years. “Why are you...um, you said something about me, don’t you remember?”

“I did?” He tilts his head, feeling even more bewildered. “What...what did I say?”

You couldn’t help but start to question yourself now. He was supposed to know, wasn’t he?

“Someone mentioned the...the debate event for that year, and you were joining. Then you...found out I was joining too.” You hated how unsure you sounded now.

“And you said something like, ‘Oh Y/N? Yeah, she’s cool, I guess. Intense opponent.’ Then your friends laughed and you joined them. It sounded very condescending, if you would ask me.”

Jungwon could only stare in bafflement at the desperation slipping in your tone, and a faint blush appears on his cheeks as he slowly pieces things together, but you were too focused on your explanation to even notice his current state.

How was he supposed to tell you that his friends laughed at him and he couldn’t help but laugh too—albeit nervously because...

“And the next day, you were glaring at me from across the room. It was at the meeting for the debate teams.” You heave a deep sigh thinking that he might not have remembered it anymore but then he finally finds his voice.

“G-glaring? Y/N, I...I would never...” he trails off and you take the opportunity to speak up again.

“Never what? You were staring so intensely at me, I was so convinced that I might have done some—” you abruptly pause and blink, an almost horrifying thought dawning on you with your own choice of words.

Staring. Staring. Intensely, but not glaring.

What if...you had just misinterpreted it all?

Jungwon senses your moment of realization and he takes a deep breath, speaking as gently as possible as he explained and his gaze on you unwavering.

“Yes, I stared at you that day but...” he pushes down his nerves to focus on clarifying things to you, knowing that this might just be the conversation you both needed after years of rivalry.

“...not in a bad way. Nor did I mock you when I found out you were joining. I meant it,” his lips tug into a small smile, “I really did think you were cool. And by intense, I meant...passionate. Though, I understand how it might’ve come off differently to you, but the truth is, I was simply too nervous.”

Not just that. I used to have a tiny crush on you.

But Jungwon leaves out that part of his story and warmly smiles at you as he decides to elaborate, hoping you would understand his side. And to your surprise, he’s even looking at you so kindly, his expression almost tender.

“I honestly did not understand why you were so cold to me. All I wanted was to be friends with you and talk to you about academics,” Which is partly true, he thinks.

“But,” he awkwardly laughs and another wave of blush warms his face up to his ears, a bit more evident this time, “I do admit that at some point, it got a little frustrating to me, especially because I’ve always been competitive. And since you never paid attention to me unless it was about school, I...I decided to match your energy.”

Jungwon flashes you a sheepish smile after explaining himself, and now it was your turn to have your jaw dropped, staring at him incredulously. A mix of emotions courses through you all at once—surprise, relief, guilt, embarassment, frustration, and even happiness.

“Good heavens...” you bury your face in your hands with an exasperated sigh and he now feels more awkward than ever until you spoke again, your voice muffled. “Jungwon, I’m so sorry.”

In all honesty, Jungwon doesn’t know how to react. So he gently takes hold of your wrists to pull your hands down, your bashful eyes meeting his tender ones. He quickly notices the flush across your face and he couldn’t help but quietly laugh.

Out of confusion and embarrassment, your features contort into a slight frown and he bites down his lip to stop himself from laughing even more. He shakes his head lightly and moves his hands from your wrist to your palms, gently holding them from across the table.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says warmly. “It was a mistake. I understand.”

You were actually expecting him to get mad at you or even make fun of your misinterpretation, but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you feel like you might just want to cry on the spot.

“No,” you shake your head apologetically. “I was wrong. And I’m really sorry for that. For...for everything. I’m so stupid. It was so stupid of me to think like that.”

But Jungwon only smiles, his gaze at you softening. “Don’t beat yourself up. I enjoyed our arguments too, you know?”

A flicker of puzzlement flashes through your face and his smile widens. “You were really tough to deal with sometimes—most of the time, really—but you were the only one I liked competing with. Like a worthy opponent, if I may say.”

You stare at him in silence for a few moments, completely perplexed by what you just heard before you groaned and shook his hands. “Jungwon, could you please be mad at me?”

“What?” He confusedly asks with a laugh. “I can’t be mad at you when I was entertained sometimes. It’s fun arguing with you because you’re just as smart as me. Maybe even more, I believe.”

His words render you speechless, and a corner of his mouth lifts in a teasing smirk. “Were you the one who was always mad at me then?”

“No, I—” you close your eyes with a grunt and Jungwon lets out a hearty laugh, amused by your frustration. “Okay, fine. I liked arguing with you too. Sometimes. But that doesn’t make me any less wrong, so I was expecting you to be mad at me.”

Jungwon sighs in defeat, though a subtle smile still plays on his lips at your admission. “Alright. I guess that’s reasonable. I’m taking this chance to formally apologize to you then. I’m sorry.”

He slightly leans forward, keeping eye contact with you. “Truly sorry. I’m pretty sure I frustrated you several times especially when I argued just for the sake of opposing you. And to all of the ridiculous things I’ve done to play my role in our dynamic. So I hope that we can start anew, and maybe even become friends.”

The sincerity in his words and in the way he touches your hand lifts off a heavy weight on your shoulders and you sigh deeply with relief, and so does Jungwon. He closes his laptop, deciding that your work for the day was done as there were now more pressing matters to attend to than the project.

“What do you say?” He gently squeezes your hand, expectedly waiting for your answer, the hopeful look in his eyes telling you that he was 100% wanting to hear a ‘yes.’

However, you playfully squint your eyes at him and slightly lean in too, a tinge of playfulness lacing your voice. “Do you still think Romeo and Juliet were impulsive teenagers?”

He blinks a few times at your unexpected response and bursts into quiet laughter, his eyes turning into crescents. “Okay, honestly? I think my perspective had already changed a little over a few weeks ago. They were simply too deep in love.”

“For real?” Your eyes widen and Jungwon nods, his face still beaming, but your voice quiets down. “Well, actually, I gave some thought about your argument before and maybe Shakespeare indeed just wanted to entertain us with a melodramatic—”

“Okay, we’re not going to argue again,” he immediately cuts you off, keeping in his amusement as he tried to sound serious. “Romeo and Juliet is romantic, end of story. Now, what do you say about being friends?”

You thoughtfully hum, feigning a serious consideration at his words, although the growing smile on your face already betrayed you, and the gleam in your eyes tells Jungwon that your response would be something unexpected once more.

“An ice cream date when we slay the presentation?”

“Sure.” He smiles cheekily. “Ice cream it is.”

“Okay. Friends.”

𓇗 niki - take a chance with me 𓇗

With the strenuous weeks came dozens of works in your other classes as well, and you had to postpone your little meetings for a while to focus on these tasks. Sometimes you would talk to Jungwon on the phone, but oddly enough, it didn’t really suffice compared to time spent in-person, with the new bond that has formed between the two of you.

Jungwon proposed to set a time during weekends to work on the remaining project and maybe even study at each other’s houses, with an underlying innocent intention to spend more time with you. Unbeknownst to him, you were just as happy to have both of it—studying and spending time with the boy you’ve now grown fond of.

Except for one problem: you had a cat in your home. And ironically, the feline-eyed boy was allergic to cats.

Jungwon assured you that his allergy wasn’t that bad, and he could last a few hours at your residence. You didn’t want to cave in at first, your concern overriding the want to spend time with him outside of school, even if it was still for your studies.

But being the good communicator that he is, Jungwon managed to convince you that it will be perfectly fine, and that you wouldn’t have to worry about “being the culprit when he dies”, as you had initially argued.

You agreed on one condition—that he bring an EpiPen with him just in case of an emergency, and he easily agreed, but not without giving his own condition: that your parents were completely on board with just the two of you at your home.

He practically swore to not having even the slightest bit of thought of doing anything harmful to or with you, but he wanted to be sure that your parents were aware and looked out for your safety.

The condition was unexpected, you thought, but deep inside, you appreciated how he seemed to be genuinely concerned about the matter. So you reassured him that it was fine, and even gave your parents some basic information about Jungwon, if anything does happen, which you knew there wouldn’t be.

And so you woke up early that Saturday morning, something that you rarely did, just to clean your house and prepare some foods, as well as things to keep Chloe occupied while you worked at the living room.

Jungwon arrived a little earlier than you were expecting, and he clarifies right away that he just didn’t want to be late, although the truth is that he was too eager to see you.

Sensing a visitor in the house, Chloe gets out of your room and makes her way downstairs, cautiously approaching as she assesses the boy standing close to you. Jungwon coos right away upon seeing her, but he wasn’t exactly a stranger to cats, and so he crouches down and extends his hand to her, letting her sniff him before he does anything.

Chloe swats her paw at his shoes and takes a few moments to take his presence in before she turns to you with an approving “meow”, then she nuzzles Jungwon’s hand as if asking to be petted. He takes the cue and in an instant, they were now nuzzling each other’s faces. You could even hear Jungwon giggling softly.

You smile in relief at seeing the two liking each other, almost forgetting about Jungwon’s allergy with how comfortable they looked. But as you stared longer and kept a close look at your spot, your smile wavered upon falling on a little observation.

Why does...why does Chloe almost resemble Yang Jungwon?!

For a moment, you stood there frozen, quite rattled by the thought that suddenly took over your mind. Y/N, are you insane? Why would you think that?

Bewildered by your own words, you clear your throat and pretend to be busy with arranging the foods and materials on the table. “Okay, that’s enough. Let’s get to work.”

“Aww,” Jungwon whines disappointedly and pleads at you with his eyes, “but we’re still playing. Look, she loves me.”

As much as you loved seeing the two have fun, you needed to get started and you might not be sure just how long Jungwon and Chloe would end up playing, and there’s still the lingering worry about his mild allergy. You shake your head in response and turn your laptop on without sparing another glance at them as you listed off your excuses.

He eventually sighs in defeat and gives one last pet to the cat. “Alright, baby. We should listen to your mom. Go on.”

You nearly choke on your spit at hearing Jungwon baby talk with Chloe, throwing a look of feigned disgust at his direction that Jungwon only laughs at before calling out and instructing your child to get back to your room, although it took some bribing of treats before she finally obeyed you.

Jungwon then settles beside you on the sofa and you two share a light-hearted conversation before actually getting to work, surrounded by a peaceful atmosphere. Every now and then, Chloe would come down to play with you and Jungwon, and your worried sighs would only be met with a laugh from the boy.

You would always send him a lackluster glare for how he’s seemingly making fun of your reactions, but Jungwon simply finds amusement and even a hint of affection at how concerned you were about him.

After a few hours of working, you both decide to take a well-deserved break, stretching your limbs and talking about something else other than school, with Chloe sitting between the two of you as you had already given up on sending her away, much to Jungwon’s contentment.

Suddenly, you hear the gates open and the faint sound of familiar voices in the distance, your conversation coming to a pause as you both looked at the door. Not long after, it pushed open with faces that you weren’t expecting to see today, or at least not this early.

“Mom! Dad!” You immediately stand up and approach them, Jungwon quickly doing the same, though he stands just beside the sofa as he watches you hug your parents.

“You’re home,” you confusedly say, but the pleased expression on your face was enough to tell your parents that you were just as happy as them.

“Your Dad and I managed to convince our bosses to leave early today. It’s a weekend, for goodness’ sake!” They head for the dining area carrying some bags as your mother went on, her lively voice booming throughout the household.

“Have you eaten already? We bought a lot of foods! I got your favorites, we have a blueberry cheesecake and orange chicken here—oh is that your friend? Jungwon?” She pauses in her tracks and you follow her gaze, seeing Jungwon giving her a bow with his lips stretching into a slight curve.

She kindly returns his smile and gestures him to follow the three of you into the dining area where your father was already arranging the foods on the table. “Come here, sweetheart!”

Chloe quickly follows behind Jungwon as he shyly walks to go beside you and greets your parents politely. While your mother continues with her little rant, you tell Jungwon to just serve himself some food while you went to the kitchen to get some ice cubes for the drinks.

You feel a little sorry for leaving him behind as you hear your parents immediately bombard him with questions even though they were just trying to make him feel comfortable, but you did promise him that you wouldn’t take long.

Little did you know, Jungwon had decided to take up the opportunity and sneak his own agenda into the casual conversation.

“You know, Ma’am, you have a really amazing daughter. She’s one of the best students in our school, both with her kindness and intelligence.”

You went still for a moment as you hear the words leave Jungwon’s mouth, his voice a little unclear due to the distance and the clinking of tableware, but you could still make out most of the conversation.

“Oh, I know how amazing she is,” your mother replies with a soft laugh. “And I’m glad other people sees that too. She’s well-loved at your school, isn’t she?”

Jungwon hums in response. “Very much so. Everyone likes her. I do too. I-I mean like as a student, of course. We work really well together in our academics.”

You couldn’t resist from laughing a little at Jungwon’s hurried explanation of himself, your memories flashing back to your old arguments as he mentions how good you work together when it comes to your studies.

“Is that so? Wait, did we disturb your work? I almost forgot that you’re here because of a project. How is it going?”

“Oh, not at all, Ma’am. We were actually just taking a break when you arrived. The food’s good, by the way.”

“Just eat up then,” your father chimes in. “You kids need to get energized for your studies. They make all the kids work so hard these days! Too many homeworks and projects, no time for resting or playing!”

You hear your mother laugh wholeheartedly at your father’s rant and she speaks again, her voice shifting to a softer one. You almost couldn’t hear it at first but as you strained your ears, the words that left her mouth next made you completely still.

“They really do make you work so vigorously, don’t they? That’s why we’re so proud of Y/N. Always striving to be the best. She’s already great. Sometimes, I worry that she pushes herself too much and ends up hurting.”

You immediately feel tears brim in your eyes, a slight ache growing in your heart as you tried to ignore how you felt and focused on getting the ice cubes out instead, though it didn’t help at all when your father spoke next.

“I agree, my love. She’s too hard on herself, I’ve noticed. I hope she sees how we all see her. Not just in her studies, I mean. But as a good person, a good friend, and a good kid. Everyone sees it. I don’t believe anyone would hate our daughter. It’s why you like her, am I right? Yang Jungwon?”

Your father’s teasing comment puts you out of a threatening breakdown, and you silently laugh the tears away before finally walking out of the kitchen, hearing Jungwon’s quick and defensive replies.

The following hour was filled with a light-hearted conversation as you enjoyed the food, although occasional teasing comments were sent your way whenever your parents would imply that something was going on between you and Jungwon.

But soon enough, Jungwon surprisingly excuses himself, thanking your parents for the food and their time and that he would be taking his leave now. You immediately look over to Jungwon and tried to conceal the confusion and slight panic you were feeling at his unexpectedness.

Even your parents were surprised at first and felt reluctant of letting him leave, worrying if something urgent came up or they had unintentionally made him uncomfortable. But Jungwon quickly reassured them that everything was fine and that you had already finished a part of your project anyway.

“I suppose we’ve kept you long enough, sweetheart.” Your mother starts to pack some of the food for Jungwon while you just stood there, unsure how to approach him without sounding disappointed, even though you also felt happy at the chance of spending the rest of the day with your family.

Jungwon seems to notice your nervousness right away and softly chuckles as he stands up from his seat, facing you and lowers his voice so that only the two of you could hear.

“Don’t worry, Bluebell. Nothing’s wrong. I just thought it’d be nice if you could spend some time with them instead of studying with me.”

He glanced at your mother who was securely closing a lunch box before turning back to you. “We can do the project some other time. We have nothing to rush for, we’re smart. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

You share a laugh at his remark, and it helps relieve the confusion you were feeling earlier, thinking that you might’ve done something wrong to make him uncomfortable.

“Yeah, whatever.” You shake your head with an amused sigh, miserably failing to not smile at him. “But thanks for being considerate. I really appreciate it.”

He returns your smile with a kind one, and you miss the way your parents look at the both of you and exchanging knowing glances. “No need to thank me. It’s what you need.”

Your mother clears her throat and you both break away from the eye contact, awkwardly looking everywhere. Jungwon politely receives the lunchbox and bids his farewell to your parents, and you quickly declare to send him off, much to their surprise. But they smile anyway and motion you to go along and wishes him a safe trip home.

As you made it out of the door, you noticed how the both of you walked slowly towards the gate as if you wanted the moment to last a little longer, even though you would eventually have to part ways.

When you finally stopped by the gate, you stood there silently for a moment, unsure exactly what to say or waiting for the other to speak up first. So you think it might be alright to tell him what had happened to you earlier.

“Jungwon.” Hearing the softness in your voice, he immediately meets your gaze. “I...I heard what you told my parents earlier. A-and what they said too.”

His eyes widen by a fraction and he opens his mouth as if to say something, but no words come out. He suddenly feels like he’s put on the spot and he wonders if you took offense to it.

“I um...” you laugh nervously and scratch your nape. “I almost cried earlier, actually.”

Now his heart began to race and he steps forward, trying to not let panic seep into his tone as he finally finds his voice.

“I-I’m sorry, I just thought it would be helpful to—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t apologize.”

A brief silence envelopes the two of you before you decide to speak again, wanting to reassure him and be honest of what you truly felt.

“It’s fine. I was...I’m actually happy.”

You almost tear up as you remember how you felt while overhearing their conversation, but happiness and relief overpowered the feelings you’ve been suppressing to acknowledge for so long.

“Honestly, I...I’ve always wanted to hear that from them. I guess, I just never had the courage to ask myself.” You begin to fidget with the hem of your shirt, unsure how to phrase your words.

“It’s just, you know...very awkward, I think. And they might’ve been weirded out if I ask them that. I mean I know they wouldn’t be, it’s just...”

You trail off, heaving a deep sigh and running your hands down your face. Jungwon gives a reassuring pat to your shoulder as he also scrambles for a way to explain himself.

“No, no, it’s fine. I understand. I completely understand how you feel. I just...I thought it would be nice. Because...even if you hadn’t heard it, I simply wanted to let your parents know how lovely of a daughter they have.”

You slowly bring your hands down and listen intently to him, a wave of calmness washing over you at his sincerity.

“Well, I’m sure they already knew. But other people know as well. See how good you are at everything you do. Someone who’s very admirable. That’s what...I was hoping to relay to them.”

He takes a deep breath and looks away for a moment, stalling himself for a confession, the softness in his voice completely giving away the vulnerability he was allowing you to witness.

“The truth is, I kind of felt a connection between us when we found out that we basically have the same parents, even though the situation isn’t exactly ideal. And when I told you that maybe we could help each other’s families someday...”

He turns back to look at you with a subtle shift in his expression, “...I meant that. So when an opportunity presented itself, I grabbed it. We’re not who we used to be anymore, and I do care about you. This wasn’t anything big, if I may say, but I hope it helped, even by a little.”

Of course, you were past the whole rivalry thing with him now. And yet, something about his earnestness brings you a kind of comfort. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m sure they understood. Thank you.” A genuine smile bloomed on your lips at the feeling, but your first instinct was to quickly shift the almost solemn atmosphere. “It was so heartfelt that I would’ve cried a bucket if I didn’t stop myself.”

Jungwon’s eyes turn into wide saucers at your words, and he couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh at how you played off your tears like it was nothing.

“Hey, that wasn’t my intention.” He shakes his head in amusement and lightly pokes your shoulder. “But I’m just glad that you’re happy.”

“Oh really,” you reply with a playful mocking voice, “I thought you might’ve wanted to see me ugly crying with a tear-streaked face?”

He puts a hand to his chest with an exaggerated sound of pain. “Oh, Y/N. Do you really think I’m that bad? I would’ve been there with a pile of tissues and an actual bucket for you, I promise.”

Laughter once erupts from the two of you, the tension fading away by the second and replaced with a light atmosphere. Once you finally calm down, you stare at each other for a few moments with a warm smile lingering on your faces, a sense of understanding and connection filling the air.

You clear your throat and start to open the gate, though the wide curve on your lips remained almost permanent at this point. “Yeah, um...thank you for today, Jungwon. Take care.”

He gives you a nod as he walks out of your house, but not without facing you one last time, the radiant warmth on his face carving in your brain.

“Thank you too, Y/N. Have fun. See you on Monday.”

You both wave at each other before he finally turns around and you close the gates. And as you walked back inside your house, looking forward to spending the rest of the day with your parents, anticipation rushed through your system as you were reminded of going to his house soon.

You could barely wait until next Saturday.

𓇗 chase atlantic - talk slow 𓇗

As it turns out, Jungwon was telling the truth. When it was your turn to visit his house next week, there was no one else in the household other than his grandma. Jungwon’s parents were both at work and his sister was at university, making it only the three of them—including Maeum.

You were lucky enough to arrive at his house just before a heavy rain poured from the dark skies, and you knew for sure that it would take some time before you could go home later.

But the atmosphere in the Yang residence was enough to warm you up in the meantime, despite his parents and sister not being there. With the picture frames, trinkets, scattered things, and simple decorations everywhere, the place had a cozy and welcoming ambiance to it and looked a bit more lively than your household.

Not to mention that Jungwon’s grandmother also treated you like her own despite only having met you for the first time. You felt at ease with her warm welcome, along with Maeum’s enthusiastic response at your arrival.

Albeit a little too enthusiastic, you thought. Chloe was as laid-back as Maeum is energetic. You couldn’t help but think that it seemed almost like a reflection of their owner’s personalities.

Jungwon on the other hand felt a little nervous at first as you arrived, wanting everything to be perfect before the two of you could settle down to work. He definitely did not spend at least an hour of cleaning and organizing his room even though there was barely anything to fix anyway.

At least one of his worries was taken away when 15 minutes had already passed and Maeum did not pee on the floor or do anything horrendous. It felt a bit ridiculous to think of but he knew just how chaotic his dog could get.

Though that relief didn’t last for long when his grandma kept on doting on you, and even mentioned how you were a lot prettier in person.

You were just about to ask what she meant when Jungwon suddenly grabbed the plate of kimbap and fruit slices that she prepared (Jungwon believes he helped too, although half of it was just him asking her questions about love) before excusing the both of you from his grandma and practically dragged you upstairs to his room.

Once you made it inside, with Maeum following the both of you, Jungwon put down the plate on the coffee table and rounded the bed to get his laptop by his study desk.

“You can sit anywhere. I’ll just get my stuff.” You give him a nod and roam your eyes around his room, taking in every detail that reflected a part of him.

You could hear the rain getting heavier outside, every drop of the downpour blurring his windows. Jungwon reached for the AC remote, adjusting it to a warm temperature, but the rain outside persisted, and he turned to you.

“Are you cold?”

You gave him a shrug as you sat down at the edge of his bed on the floor, picking up a slice of apple. “Just a little. But I’m fine.”

He hesitates for a moment but he eventually opens his dresser and pulls out one of his hoodies, your hand pausing mid-air as he hands the neatly folded clothing to you.

“Y-you can wear this,” he meekly says, looking at anywhere but you as he adds, “only if you want to. It might...help.”

You pop the fruit into your mouth before taking the hoodie. “Yeah, thank you.”

He mutters “you’re welcome” before settling down beside you, trying to ignore the way his heart was hammering in his chest at how adorable you looked in his hoodie. He maintains a respectful distance between the two of you, thankful that you didn’t notice the rosy color from his ears down to his neck as you kept busy with your own things by the table.

He tries to act casually and picks up a fruit as well, hoping that a conversation would steer him away from his weird feelings. “So uh, where were we last time?”

The next few hours were filled with a productive yet comfortable atmosphere, the silence occasionally disrupted when someone has a question or asks for a comment, or when Maeum would join the two of you. From time to time, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Jungwon and take in his simple appearance.

It wasn’t like he doesn’t already have the clean, approachable, and friendly look at school—just that he appears even more casual right now. His bangs were falling over his eyes that he blows away whenever it pokes them, his lovely dimple appearing every now and then, cheeks puffing up as he stuffed his mouth with food or simply puckering his lips, brows furrowing in concentration as he worked on his laptop, and the light from its monitor casting a glow on his face.

A subtle smile would touch your lips everytime at the sight. This wasn’t the genius and student council president Yang Jungwon right now. He was simply Jungwon. A boy who’s too good for this world and happens to be your friend.

What you didn’t know was that Jungwon was having an internal conflict by your side, unaware of the turmoil of emotions he was feeling as you worked in peace. He almost envied how undistracted you looked.

Despite staying focused on his own work, he was hyper-aware of your presence and every glance from you. Anytime that a part of your bodies would accidentally brush against each other, he feels like a jolt of electricity runs through him.

He didn’t understand why he was feeling this way. He was comfortable with you. In fact, he liked it very much that you were here, in his space. And yet, it made his heart flutter. He felt like he was working on autopilot, his mind half occupied with grappling the mixture of emotions you were making him feel.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as you gently tapped his arm, inquiring about a subtopic that you needed to understand in order to get through with one of your tasks.

Once you finally grasped the discussion, you turned back to your things and Jungwon went back to his, thinking that he’d be able to work with a more focused mind this time, not until he hears a comment from you.

“You’re really good at explaining things, you know. I’m glad it’s you that I’m working with.”

He laughs quietly, gaze falling down to his lap as he tries not to get too caught up with how your words affected him. “Thank you. You’re just a fast learner too, honestly.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply without looking, playfulness laced in your tone. “I guess that makes us good partners, doesn’t it?”

You both share a laugh and he shakes his head in amusement, seeing your eyes crinkle at the corners as you meet gazes. “I suppose we are.”

A bit more time passes before you two finally decide to end your work for the day, your bottoms already getting a little sore from sitting so long and your eyes strained from staring at your laptop’s monitors.

However, the rain didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon and Jungwon was wary to send you home alone in such gloomy weather, so he offered you to stay for dinner and watch a movie after, quickly informing your parents that you’d be home a little late.

And as you moved around the house for the following hours, Jungwon found himself sinking into an almost domestic feeling at the casual intimacy you both expressed, warmth spreading through his chest at the realization. He couldn’t help but think if he was the only one feeling a sense of curiosity and admiration between the two of you.

With the past weeks of studying together and the first visits you had at each other’s residence, he felt like something had now shifted again in your budding relationship. Maybe it wasn’t actually just the project that had brought the two of you together, but a woven tapestry of understanding and connection that he considered special.

He knew that it had only been a short time since the two of you managed to get close, and yet he felt like every moment spent with you was heading to a certain path, and he wanted to see where this goes, where it could be the start of something deeper and a different kind of real.

enhypen - your eyes only 𓇗 royalty

“Y/N, he gave you food and his hoodie, then you gave him back some food, and you two are basically attached to the hip now—how could we not think that?”

Right. Days after you went to Jungwon’s house, you washed his hoodie before giving it back to him, but he insisted for you to keep it, with the excuse that you looked adorable nice in his the item of clothing.

The next day, he gave you a food container filled with kimbap, claiming that it’s because you said you liked his grandmother’s, so he tried to make them for you.

You didn’t want to give back an empty container, so you decided to make him some food as well, sharing half of the prepared portions to your friends that they were currently munching on.

“Now that we’re at it, everybody actually thinks the same. I’ve heard other students say that you two must be dating. Even Miss Kang asked me the other day.”

You laugh at Rei’s words and casually shrug. “Can’t we just be good friends? We’ve gotten really close to each other, nothing more than that.”

“Sure, you’ve gotten a lot closer now.” Liz animatedly motions, her eyes widening as she emphasizes her words. “But it’s not just close, it’s like a different type of close!”

“How is it different?” You ask as you take another bite of your food and almost accusingly point the fork to the both of them. “This better not be because he’s a boy and I’m a girl, because I’m friends with Sunoo and Riki too—”

“Of course it’s not that, Y/N,” Rei quickly interrupts you. “We’re mature enough to know that. But you could be honest with us, you know? We tease you all the time but if you do like Yang Jungwon, what’s the problem in admitting that? It would actually make us happy for you.”

“—and tease you even more,” Liz adds, and Rei lightly scolds her for it because they were supposed to make you fess up.

You laugh as they start to bicker with each other, but your thoughts slowly drift off into a daydream, recalling all that has transpired for the past few months that led to the predicament you now found yourself in.

When you submitted the papers for your second project, you and Jungwon weren’t able to celebrate alone because it happened to coincide with your birthday, and you planned to go out with your whole friend group followed by a family hang out at night.

So when you all went to an arcade that day, Jungwon pulled you aside to give you a matching bracelet that he bought just for the two of you—a “seal” of your new-found friendship, as he declared.

And your friendship had only continued to blossom since then, with even the littlest things feeling special to your heart. Handwritten notes inside and outside of class were shared, with Jungwon often drawing cat doodles on the bottom.

You began to hold hands and link arms as if it was second nature, playing with each other’s hair, leaning on his or your shoulder for no reason at all, sharing an earphone whenever you studied together as you listened to one another’s playlists (and even forming your own shared one).

Jungwon would often remember little things about you, as you did with him, met with knowing and teasing glances from your friends whenever they witnessed it happening.

He would bring some food for the two of you when you’re studying together, and at one point he had started to buy food for everyone as well, so as to end Riki’s playful sulking about Jungwon’s special treatment for you.

Sometimes you would catch yourself smiling at Jungwon simply because you find him too endearing even when he’s doing nothing, mentally slapping yourself when you realize how idiotic you might’ve seemed and quickly looking around if anyone saw your moment of weakness.

Jungwon was a gentleman, sure, it was a given. He would open doors for you, save you a seat, help you carry stuff, listen attentively to everything you say, offer to help despite not asking him to or you insist that you can do it by your own, and he even follows the sidewalk rule despite you always joking that you’d both be hurt when a vehicle does crash to the side.

He was just kind in general, and he was the same to everyone, you knew it. You’ve heard of it. You saw it. And yet, it never failed to make your heart flutter or send butterflies to your stomach, much to your perplexity. Why in the world were you feeling it?

You weren’t that dense to not know what could possibly be happening. A simmering attraction seemed to bloom beneath the surface of every interaction between the two of you, although a part of you had convinced yourself that maybe Jungwon wasn’t even feeling anything.

Your friends however, held a different opinion. They agreed among themselves that you two were just being oblivious. It was evident with the way you stole glances at each other from time to time, thinking that the other wouldn’t notice.

While you internally melted in embarrassment whenever you caught yourself smiling at him, Jungwon wasn’t doing any better. More often than not, he would feel the weight of your gaze, making his heart skip a beat every single time, pretending that he didn’t notice your lingering stare.

He would especially feel it when he wears glasses, where you’re almost unable to tear your gaze away from him if it weren’t for the fact that you feel embarrassed at the thought of being caught. You were almost convinced that Jungwon wears it on purpose just so you would look at him more often than usual, and oh it was so true.

It was during another breezy afternoon when it all came crashing down on you. There wasn’t anything special happening, just you and Jungwon sitting at a gazebo (that you used to fight over), talking about a jigsaw puzzle of a cat that he has finally completed in weeks, then he goes on about the history of jigsaw puzzles that he has learnt days ago.

The sight briefly reminded you of the day that he likened you to bluebells, and you came to remember something. You had eventually discovered since then what the flowers meant, aside from what Jungwon had mentioned as humility and modesty. Constancy. Faithfulness. Hope. Gratitude. Wishes. Dreams. Everlasting love.

It made you wonder how Jungwon could relate such things to you when on the other hand, you thought that it was him who suited those things instead. Jungwon was everything that a bluebell represented, at least to you.

But Jungwon wasn’t one to lie, so could that have meant that its essence reflected the two of you? Like...like two peas in a pod. God. For the umpteenth time, Rei was right. She always was.

You were brought back to reality when Rei and Liz’s bickering gets a little louder, their passionate argument piercing through your cloud of reverie.

“—you? Why would she follow your advice?”

“Hey, I’m always right! I literally convinced her to make friends with—”

“That wasn’t you, it was her effort. And what if we’re wrong? What if we’re really pushing her? Maybe she doesn’t like Jungwon that way?”

“Nah, I know it. I memorized the pattern of boys that she likes. Jungwon is definitely her type, there’s no doubt.”

“No doubt? You’ve said that to me when I asked you about number 21 in Philosophy—and it was Socrates, not Plato!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at their usual banter, shoulders shaking with mirth and eyes almost closing in amusement. However, your laughter dies down when Liz suddenly turns to your direction with a surprised look on her face, slightly narrowing her eyes at you as if she realized something.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know that you just...kind of laughed like Yang Jungwon right now?”

Rei’s eyes widen and she immediately nods in agreement at Liz’s observation, while you were left staring at them confusedly.

“...what?”

“What I said!” Liz gestures to you with wide eyes. “You sounded and looked like Yang Jungwon when you laughed! You know? That thing when he—”

“You’re tripping.” You vehemently shake your head but Liz doesn’t give up and explains further. “I’m not! I’m telling you, do you know when he laughs then his eyes close so hard and, and his laughter sounds so hearty and, ugh—”

She claps her hand frustratedly and points to you. “I’m sure you get what I mean! But really, it’s like Jungwon was here for a second! You even laugh more often now since you spent time together.” She sighs, “Wow, you’ve both really gotten closer, haven’t you?”

You slowly nod in response, still feeling confused by what she had previously pointed out.

“Well, back to what I was saying,” Rei redirects, “you can tell us Y/N. Are you really sure that you don’t like Yang Jungwon? Not even...a tiny, tiny crush?”

You snort and quickly shake your head. “Of course I am.”

As you idly leaned back in your seat and took a sip of your drink, a strange feeling gnawed at a part of your mind, the thought of possibly lying not only to your friends but also to yourself making your stomach churn slightly.

Rei quirks an eyebrow, completely not believing you. “Really?”

Your brows knit together. “Yeah, really. I’m...we’re just good friends. And I mean really, really good friends. I know it was stupid of me to have misinterpreted him years ago and now I can see how we click so well together, so that’s why we are what we are.”

You take a brief pause to ponder your next words, relieved that they both seemed to start taking you seriously now. “I know we both seem like more than friends, but really—we’re just very comfortable with each other.”

Just then, your voice starts to trail off as if you were muttering to yourself, and their convinced looks disappear just as quick as it had appeared. “We’re friends...friends. So there’s no way that what you’re saying is true. Me, liking him? That’s...no.”

Rei and Liz quickly exchange glances and you momentarily get lost in your thoughts again, almost obliviously speaking and your voice coming out quieter than you had intended to.

“Besides...do you remember Minjeong sunbaenim? She’s really pretty and kind. And smart too. They used to work together at the book club before she graduated.” You begin to fiddle with the straw, your eyes following the movement of your finger.

“I...I heard rumors back then that he liked her. Even the other seniors back then really liked Jungwon. So that...that means Jungwon likes girls older than him.”

Liz seemed to have processed your words a bit slowly as she spoke, unaware of how Rei already had her jaw dropped upon realizing your implication.

“Well, that was only what it was though, a rumor. It’s not an evidence to Jungwon’s preferences. And they said nothing actually happened between— wait.”

Shock dawns on her face and Rei mirrored it even further with a sound of disbelief, their reactions making you puzzled—much to their frustration. The next thing you know, Liz was shaking you ardently, now laughing her heart out.

“Y/N, you do like him! You like him!”

“What?” You laugh along confusedly, while Rei shushes Liz as she looks around the cafeteria, thankful that nobody seemed to bother enough to pay attention.

“You have feelings for him, don’t you?” Liz gushed.

“Not at all.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Rei chimes in. “You do have an older vibe sometimes.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I mean the kind of vibe that would make Jungwon sing noona neomu yeppeo—”

You facepalm. “Oh, cut it out.”

“And hey, whether he did like her or not, it’s you who’s with Jungwon now.” Liz chirps with a radiant smile, “I’m sure he likes you too!”

“Yeah, whatever. I didn’t say anything.”

After defending yourself by saying that you hadn’t confirmed or denied their assumptions, you instantly shifted the topic to the preparation for your upcoming finals, with them occasionally sneaking in teasing comments about you and Jungwon.

And though you tried your best to ignore everything, it felt like a whisper at the back of your mind that constantly nagged at you. Crushing on Yang Jungwon? Definitely not.

Sure, he’s a good friend and everything you’d probably like in a guy but...okay well...

...could it really be?

Sometime later that week, nearly the same thing happened when the boys were walking to their lockers, with Jungwon and Sunoo discussing something from class while Riki’s attention just flitted between them.

“I disagree. You can’t just see the world in black and white. Two things can be true at the same time, aka not mutually exclusive! Because if you think about it, the case should’ve been...”

Sunoo was about to interject when a quizzical look fell upon his face, Riki noticing right away and asking what had happened.

“I feel like I had heard that line somewhere before...” He mutters as his eyes narrow at Jungwon, but the words go past his hearing as he only continues to explain and prove his point, not noticing his friends’ looks. Then finally, Sunoo remembers.

“Why did you sound like Y/N just right now?”

“Ohh,” Riki gapes and turns to Sunoo. “The ‘black and white’ thing? And the ‘mutually exclusive’ one, am I right?”

Jungwon’s little speech comes to a halt, and for a moment, all he could think about was your calm yet passionate voice when it comes to intellectual or philosophical discussions. He doesn’t even know why.

Sunoo’s face becomes a blend of disgust and being dumbfounded at his reaction, which makes Riki burst out laughing, and it’s only when Jungwon is jarred back to reality.

“Well, I— it’s just something she uses a lot,” he calmly says. “I must’ve picked up on it.”

“Uh-huh, and come to think of it,” Riki chimes in, “you now talk more softly with Y/N since you became closer with her. It’s almost like you’re trying to match her.”

“But I’ve been doing that since forever,” Jungwon’s brows furrows, “and I’ve always been soft spoken...?”

“Yeah but like, it’s gotten even more gentle now.”

“Really?”

“Because you’ve got a crush on her.”

“Wha—” Jungwon’s ears began to flush with a vibrant, fiery red. “I-I don’t have a crush on Y/N! Is it so bad now that I’ve picked up on her vocabulary? We all do that to each other as well and we’re friends, and me and Y/N are good friends—”

Sunoo stares blankly with pursed lips, his eyes holding an undercurrent of supressed amusement at Jungwon’s fumbling while Riki snickers beside him.

“I swear, I don’t like her like that. Absolutely not.”

“Jungwon, we’ve seen this movie before,” Sunoo flatly says. “It’s called ‘lying to myself that I don’t have a crush on my friend’, that’s what it is.”

Jungwon turned his head away with his nose held high, unwilling to accept even a single word from his friend. “I am not lying. I am a hundred percent honest. Cross my heart.”

“And your apple-red cheeks are definitely being honest right now too. It’s pretty cute,” Sunoo replies, his voice dripping with mockery.

“C-cute? I’m not—” Jungwon touches his face and immediately feels the heat that has crept up on it. The next moment, his hand goes to give a playful swat to Sunoo that he swiftly dodges.

And a cat chased a fox down the halls that afternoon, leaving their duck friend behind, entertained by the whole exchange.

Though beneath all the teasing from your friends, you two couldn’t help but actually ponder the possibility inside. You’ve half-succesfully convinced yourself that you’ve just really found a special kind of friendship with him. Jungwon thinks that he had just become too attached to you with how often you worked together, but it couldn’t have meant anything.

The whole thing seemed almost comical to your friends. How in denial you both were of your own feelings and oblivious to each other. You and Jungwon were both caught up in your own heads, missing the signs of brewing romance between the two of you. Denying, deflecting, rationalizing—it was a pattern that they watched with a mixture of amusement and concern.

They could only hope that with time, you two would eventually figure it out by yourselves and see the light, facing the inevitable truth of your admiration.

stephen sanchez, em beihold - until i found you 𓇗 jungkook - still with you

With the whirlwind of activities in your graduating year, it became a bit difficult to keep track of all the things that were happening around you. One of them being the school dance, which you weren’t even able to remember if it wasn’t for Jungwon asking if you were going to attend.

You opted for a simple but elegant looking dress of blue color—one of Jungwon’s favorite, something that you had already grown to love. You and Liz had a sleepover at Rei’s house the night before the dance, and the three of you were still at her place as you prepared for the event.

The venue was just as stunning as you had imagined, and so were Riki and Sunoo who you had arranged to meet at a certain spot outside the auditorium, albeit it took about ten minutes of the five of you running in circles while looking for each other.

They immediately informed you that Jungwon was still occupied with his president tasks at the moment, and that it would take him some time before he gets to hang out with the rest of you. Although disappointed, you completely understood the responsibilities that he was tied to and decided to just enjoy in the meantime.

But it didn’t really take long for you and Jungwon to see each other (though from a distance). With his insanely good looks and commanding aura that screamed authority, especially as he explored almost every area of the venue to check up on things, it wasn’t that hard to find him.

He wore a navy blue suit, with a waistcoat underneath that hugged his figure. His hair was swept back and parted to one side, with his bangs falling just above his eyes and revealed more of his forehead than his usual style. You couldn’t help but halt in your tracks to admire him, and that’s when Jungwon also turned his head to your direction.

He felt as if everything else had faded into a blur when he saw you in the dress, waving enthusiastically at him with a beaming smile. A tender smile touched his lips while he waved back at you, his heart swelling with warmth when you returned the gesture by raising up your fist, encouraging him from afar as you mouthed “Fighting!”

Jungwon would catch up with your group whenever he had the time and made sure to take as many photos with all of you as much as he could. You didn’t even know how Jungwon managed to balance his time, but you supposed it was just really the way he was built. Though, you couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him.

But you knew that Jungwon wouldn’t like you being hung up on his struggles, especially when it was expected of his position already. And so you ate, danced, walked around, and laughed your hearts out with each other for hours, making sure to also check up on Jungwon and give him a refreshment from time to time.

After some dancing, you all decided to go back to your table to take a rest. Riki and Sunoo were bickering about the food that one of them spilled by the buffet table, while Liz and Rei fills up their storage with a hundred pictures since the night begun.

You weren’t sure what exactly you were expecting to happen tonight, so as you sat down quietly and drank water to refresh yourself, you mindlessly roamed your eyes around the venue before looking down at your lap.

You thought back to how your friends indulged in their humor whenever a slow or mellow music would play on the speakers, meant for romantic dancing. You couldn’t help but laugh everytime they cracked a joke whether it was about the couples or dramatically complaining about their single lives, and it brought a smile to your face again.

Suddenly, you hear the others intensely whispering to themselves as if something gossip-worthy has happened, but you were too occupied by your own thoughts to even pay any attention to what they were saying.

That was until you heard a familiar voice speak up, a sweet and gentle melody in your ears that shined through among the noises that surrounded you everywhere.

“Y/N.”

You look up to see Jungwon standing just a few steps away from you with an expectant smile on his face, one arm placed behind him while the other was extended towards you, reaching his hand out.

You immediately get a sense of what might be happening, though you quickly brush it off. It’s just impossible. However, your internal efforts are deemed futile with the words that come out of his mouth.

“May I have this dance?”

The other four beside you all make exhilarated sounds, keeping their reactions to a minimum as they waited for your response. It was so sudden that you found yourself speechless because among all the things you have expected to happen tonight, none of it was this.

And yet here you were, feeling like your heart was about to jump out of your chest as you smiled at Jungwon, taking his hand and getting up to your feet.

You were just about to ask him why he had decided to dance with you, when he slowly leaned down with his eyes closed, gingerly bringing the back of your hand to press lightly against his lips. Soft, delicate, and warm lips.

You hear Rei and Liz’s muffled squeals, playfully hitting each other. Riki just let out the loudest gasp you’ve ever heard from him, and Sunoo probably had his jaw dropped.

You couldn’t even blame them. Because above all the sounds that surrounded you at that moment, you could practically hear the pounding of your heart in your ears now, and it was all because this boy just kissed your hand like you were the most precious thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

But seriously, where did Yang Jungwon got the courage to pull such a gesture?!

You couldn’t think straight anymore. And if you weren’t stunned yet, you were definitely by the next moment—when Jungwon looks up to meet your eyes, a hint of fondness in his gaze while his lips were still softly pressed against your skin.

Why was your heart fluttering? And why was there a weird sensation in your stomach? Is that what they call ‘butterflies’?

Before you could even fully register the thoughts running through your mind, Jungwon finally straightens with a warm smile and held your hand firmly, leading the both of you to the dance floor.

You didn’t even know how you managed to walk properly when your mind was still in a daze at the scene before you, and you were thankful that he was holding on to you the whole time, the very reason why you were able to make it there without tripping.

At this point, you slowly come to accept that maybe Jungwon’s just going to be the one who leads everything tonight with how shocked you still are. But as you two found a spot to settle in and get into position—fingers laced together, your free hand on his shoulder while his other hand is on your waist—Jungwon begins to waver.

He couldn’t look you in the eye, and you could feel the slight tremble of his hand in yours. And it wasn’t like you were doing any better. The unfading flush on your cheeks, and hands that were even shakier than his was enough to tell what you were feeling.

But his sudden shift in demeanor and the stiffly way you were moving from side to side brings you at a loss of words, and you think—you’re both too awkward to dance.

The realization pushes out laughter to bubble up from you, and he finally looks up to meet your eyes, a nervous chuckle of his own ringing in your ears. Hearing each other laugh with glee just makes the two of you get a bit louder, shoulders shaking with mirth and eyes fluttering shut in pure joy.

Anyone who was watching (a certain group of friends were) would’ve thought it was a fluffy, romantic moment, when the truth is that you were just two nervous (idiots) teenagers who went for a dance.

After a minute or so, your laughter dies down, though your faces were still graced with wide smiles, cheeks slightly hurting from it all. Jungwon sighs softly and attempts to rock your bodies back and forth in a gentle manner to actually begin to dance.

“Ah, we’re a bit awkward tonight, don’t you think?”

“Says the guy who just kissed my hand?”

You both break out into laughter again as you tease him for his gesture earlier, shaking your head in disbelief. “Did you get a surge of bravery or something?”

Jungwon playfully shrugs, a gleam dancing in his eyes as he speaks. “I don’t know. I just felt like doing it. A pretty lady deserves to be wooed like that.”

He pauses for a few moments as he searches for your eyes, a hint of something unreadable flickering in his own for a moment. “And you look really beautiful tonight, like a pretty bluebell. You always are.”

You instinctively conceal your emotions at the way his words and his gaze makes you feel, but Jungwon could faintly see the rosy color on your face betraying you, even under the luminescent mixed hues of the party lights.

“Thank you, really. You look dashing too, as always.” His lips curve into a lopsided grin, unable to deny to himself how your compliment made his heart flutter and feeling a bit of satisfaction for seeing his effect on you.

“This is...” he looks over to where your hands are intertwined and slightly loosens his grip on your waist. “This is fine, right? Tell me if it’s uncomfortable.”

You laugh lightly and shake your head. “Yes, it’s fine, Jungwon. Thank you. And I really appreciate the concern but it’s a dance. Of course this is how it’s supposed to be.”

“Right,” he laughs as well and nods, his nerves gradually slipping as you both get comfortable with the position, naturally adjusting with the steps and moving closer together. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Silence envelopes the two of you for a while, only the music shifting to a slower, more romantic tempo and the chatter of other pairs dancing could be heard. And your fits of silent giggles in between that lightened the mood.

You’ve both acknowledged each other’s beauty outwardly before, so casually at that with the words carved into your minds now. And yet at this moment, something else seemingly sparks a new-found admiration from you two.

Under the blue and purple hues of the party lights bathing the dance floor, your faces seemed to take on an almost iridescent sheen, the lights casting an ethereal glow and softening your features.

It felt as if you were lost in the moment as your bodies moved in harmony and held each other’s gaze, the awkwardness now gone and replaced with a sense of fondness and connection that embraced the two of you.

You think to yourself that Jungwon has never been prettier in your eyes than in this moment. The lights just enhanced his beauty by tenfold, and you couldn’t help but seriously think that he was like Aphrodite’s son that came to life.

Meanwhile, he thinks to himself that he must be crazy for feeling so infatuated right now as he took in your beauty and how nice it felt to hold you so intimately. It’s just Y/N. The pretty, smart, and kind girl you’re now friends with after years of productive rivalry.

But his internal monologue seems to hit him right in the face as he comes to accept a realization that he had been avoiding for some time now. Jungwon tried to think of any other reason for the past few months at why he was feeling this way towards you.

Surely, he’s just delighted that the two of you finally settled in peace after so long, right? And he enjoys spending time with you...so much, that when you’re not there, he thinks of you. Misses you, even.

God, that sounded so weird. He felt like a silly lovestruck teenager about the whole thing—and indeed he was. But the more he thought about these strange, although not unpleasant emotions, it felt like he was falling deeper into this maze that he had created himself.

Falling. That was it. Was he falling for you?

If it meant enjoying every moment you spent together, wanting to be affectionate and caring to you, missing your presence everytime, finding you the most beautiful person in the room even if you were surrounded with a myriad of artworks, and wanting to learn about, from, and with you—was this falling?

He liked you. More than he’d want to admit. And even if it didn’t make sense to him for now.

Maybe this was the right time to tell you how he feels. He didn’t even need an answer from you, despite the slight fear that lingered at the back of his mind that you’d start treating him differently after this.

“Y/N,” he softly calls out your name, his voice almost mixing in with the slow music.

You response with a hum and he gently guided your intertwined hand up to his shoulder, your hands now resting comfortably on both of his shoulders. His hands followed suit, palms now settling on your waist and drawing you just a little closer to him.

The gesture sends another wave of blush on your face and Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, a flicker of amusement and affection in his eyes.

He clears his throat and holds you firmly, his gaze unwavering. “I just wanted to tell you, I’m really glad we’re friends now. I hope it doesn’t sound cheesy.”

You both laugh a little and he continues, “but I truly enjoy spending time with you. I’ve found you more likeable and admirable than I expected, and I don’t think I will ever get tired of you.”

He pauses for a few beats as he searches your eyes, as if to let the sincerity of his words sink in for a moment before he speaks again.

“If only I knew, I wish I took the initiative to explain myself back then. I couldn’t believe it took us this long to be close, but I’m glad it happened anyway.”

A smile graces your lips at his admission and he mirrors the warm expression on your face. “I can’t believe it either. But I suppose it’s better late than never, isn’t it?”

Another round of laughter bubbles up from the two of you and he nods, then you speak up again. “I feel the same. I’m really happy that we’re friends. I feel like we understand each other so well, in a way that no one else does.”

His face was illuminated with a radiant smile, reflecting the warmth blooming in his heart. But your words struck him harder than he was expecting, and for a moment, he feels a little selfish of wanting to ask you for a chance to be more than just friends.

His gaze darts across your features and he inhales deeply, bracing himself for the deeper part of his confession, pushing all his nervousness aside if it meant being honest with you about his feelings.

“Y/N, actually I—”

Just as you leaned closer to hear his gentle voice, a shout erupts in the distance, breaking the intimate moment between the two of you.

“President!” You quickly recognize one of the council members and even some students turned their head around, curious as to what had gotten him panting and sprinting towards the boy in front of you.

Jungwon kept his hold on you as he faced the guy, trying to keep his frustration at bay. “What is it?”

The student’s gaze flits between the two of you and he flashes an apologetic smile as he speaks. “Look, I’m really sorry to interrupt,” he turns to Jungwon, his face shifting into a troubled and almost desperate look, “but we have a problem at the E7 area. We tried to organize the...”

Jungwon tried his best to pay attention to his words but they only seemed to fade from his hearing, his thoughts filled with worries of whether he’d still be able to spend some personal time with you tonight. He reluctantly pulls his hands away from your waist, quickly erasing the sulky pout that formed on his lips.

He knew he had duties to attend to as the student council president, and he couldn’t just ignore his responsibility even though he badly wanted to just run away with you.

Once the student was done talking, he sighs deeply and turns to you, a mixture of apology and yearning swimming in his eyes. Even without words, you could already sense how he feels and what he would probably tell you, “Y/N, I’m really sorry...”

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” You internally laughed at the words that came out of his mouth and gave him a kind smile instead. “I...I promise I’ll make it up to you. As soon as I can.”

You quickly nodded, trying to reassure him that it was no big deal even though you were just as disappointed. But before he could finally turn around, you spoke without thinking much of it.

“I can go with you, if you want.”

His brows arch up in surprise, and he couldn’t even hide the hopefulness he felt as he eagerly replied. “Really?”

“Yeah,” You nodded once more. “I’ll help you.” You gently slipped your hand into his, unaware of how his heart practically leaped with happiness as you gestured the council member to lead the way.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

The rest of the night was spent with you tagging along with Jungwon to help with his president duties, the council members recognizing you either as his friend or rival, while others unashamedly gossiped among themselves (or even directly asked you) that you were rumored to be dating.

It’s not like you minded whatever they thought, you were simply there to help. So you politely clarified every time, yet your heart skipped a beat at the thought of dating the president.

Jungwon on the other hand felt like he was about to combust whenever he was mistaken as your boyfriend, whether it was an implicit or explicit remark. God, how he wished it was true.

And although he was always quick to deny (much to his dismay) and reminded others to not get sidetracked, they all noticed the pinkish glow across his ears and face, betraying his attempt at nonchalance.

From time to time, you two were pulled by your friends on the dance floor for a few minutes (where Jungwon wishes it was just the two of you dancing instead), with Riki even getting into dance battles with other students and Sunoo making sure that everything was caught on camera.

Despite the interruption that had frustrated him through the roof, Jungwon was more than happy to have you by his side the entire night, always ready with a helping hand, engaging in light-hearted conversations, or simply reassure him that everything’s fine and he’s doing a good job.

Perhaps, what mattered was that you two were able to spend time with each other, even if it wasn’t exactly what he had envisioned for the night.

He’d go as far as to say that it might have been more enjoyable than just slow dancing with you, to walk around the venue and ensure that things were smooth sailing.

It was what led him to realize that maybe he should just let this go on for a little longer and see where it goes, before he finally confesses to you.

He was certain that he had a lot of time for it. After all, he was Yang Jungwon, a council and academic leader. Time management was something he had already grown accustomed to in order to be where he is now.

If it’s really meant to happen, then there would be no need to rush. As long as the two of you were comfortable in each other’s presence, growing and learning together—everything was alright. Time wouldn’t be a problem.

yeonjun - boyfriend 𓇗 wang jun qi - i like you so much you’ll know it

Jungwon thinks the universe must have decided to play a joke on him. He planned to wait for at least a few days after the dance to give you a proper confession, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and just the two of you somewhere private and romantic.

But days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and you both found yourself occupied with school works and preparations for graduating, leaving you with little to no time at all to share a personal moment again since the school dance. Or at least not in the way that he was expecting.

School breaks were mostly spent on studying and preparing for college applications, and on the few occasions that you found yourselves in the same place, whether your friends were there or not, things just didn’t work out.

Jungwon would often find himself second guessing his plans and eventually gives it up, afraid of jeopardizing the friendship that blossomed between the two of you.

During the rare moments when he finally builds up the courage to just spill his heart out, something absurd conveniently interrupts and breaks down his hopes to tell you how he feels.

Like that one time Riki scared you all to death when he choked on his bungeoppang, or maybe when Liz freaked out because some firecrackers went off nearby.

He often thinks back to the school dance, blaming it as the start of this curse against him. He could only accept the unfortunate circumstances that pops up everytime against his will, though he couldn’t help but think it must be fate’s way to protect him from a possible rejection.

He had even started writing a diary which were just mostly filled with thoughts about you. He knew he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it if he confides about the struggles of his romantic life to Riki and Sunoo.

One thing that he held on to was that he was certain there wasn’t anyone that you liked. That, at least assured him. But he felt a little guilty at being relieved of it.

He knows you deserve to be loved and taken care of, but he wanted to be the person to do that. And yet, how would that wish come to life when everything seems to stop him from getting his message across to you?

Maybe it just wasn’t meant to happen, he often thinks.

In reality, it wasn’t like the both of you had actually parted ways. If anything, the connection between the two of you only grew. It was with the seemingly mundane and casual tasks of your school life that your bond had deepened, unknowingly realizing that you were becoming more fond and comfortable with one another.

You would often study together, eat lunch anywhere, help each other with schoolwork, and even running errands. Classes and hallway encounters were filled with smiles, shared glances, ordinary questions, or a few playful jabs at one another.

On bus rides, you would often give up the window seat (which you both liked), much to Jungwon’s surprise and confusion. But truthfully, you didn’t mind if it was him. Sometimes, you would fall asleep on his shoulder, then he would drape his hoodie or jacket over your thighs to keep you warm.

Other times, it would be him that falls asleep on you in the library when he’s gotten too tired of studying and reviewing his council tasks, feeling the weight of his head on your shoulder as you kept busy with your own work.

You also had occasional bike (dates) rides by the river where your conversation would range from your dreams in the future to alien theories. Then you would sit together on a blanket laid on the grass while eating convenience store food, and even then, Jungwon couldn’t bring himself to finally do it.

Spending time with you and getting to know each other better mattered more to him than to break the moment just to confess his deepest feelings to you.

And whenever you didn’t have much time to meet inside or outside of school, you would check on one another over chat or phone calls, which had become a normal part of your routine. You were now a part of each other’s everyday lives.

It nagged at Jungwon whether you felt the same way that he did. He didn’t want to lose the friendship he had formed with you. It was special. But he wasn’t sure either if he could contain his feelings any longer.

Unbeknownst to him, you were having an internal crisis yourself. As you sat by your study desk one afternoon, you found yourself slumping against the table, the exhaustion from studies and your thoughts about the cat-eyed boy mixing together.

And speaking of cat...

“Meow.”

Chloe suddenly climbs onto your desk, walking all over the scattered papers before she settles on one spot. You place your arms on the table and rested your chin on it, the company of the feline creature offering a momentary distraction and relief from the whirlwind of emotions in you.

Just then, she whips her head around as you start to pet her, and there it was—the eyes that always reminded you of someone. You grunt and slam your forehead on the table. Why is he everywhere even when you’re trying not to think of him?

As you lift your head up again, the sight of Chloe brings you back to the day you met her. You visited a cat café with a friend, having no expectations at all, considering you weren’t really a cat person, and the thought of adopting one hasn’t even crossed your mind once.

However, as you were approached by the seal-point colored creature at one corner of the café, something stirred in you. Chloe was really cute. Maybe even the most adorable cat you’ve ever met in your whole life.

It’s like you were struck with such undeniable beauty, like that day you first saw Jungwon at the school festival. A ridiculous thought, but it was the closest you could compare the experience to.

You found yourself enjoying the day as you played with Chloe who seemed to be having fun in your company too. The staff had informed you that she was from a shelter and has only been at the café for a few weeks, but they haven’t seen her be so attached to someone like she was with you, especially within such a short amount of time.

As your visit drew to a close, you couldn’t help but feel a slight heaviness to your heart at the thought of having to leave the cat behind. You knew it was well taken care of at the café, but a nagging feeling just gnawed at you like...you wanted to bring it home with you.

...home?

You almost couldn’t believe your own thoughts at first, but it truly didn’t feel right to not see Chloe again, or specifically to not have her with you.

Damn. Is this what they call the cat distribution system or whatever that running joke is?

Chloe seemed to have sensed your internal conflict, and as if to weigh on your mental debate even more, she clings to you for the remaining hour of your time.

That’s it. This cat just chose me. You made your decision right then and there. You were going to come back to this café and bring her home soon.

Soon was, well, a few weeks or so, with the meticulous process that the adopting took and doing your own part as well by preparing a space in the house for Chloe and everything that she was going to need.

It wasn’t actually that long, but it felt like forever to you. Though by the time she finally stepped foot into your home, it was all worth it. You were determined to treat this creature as your kin, and shower her with all the love and affection you could ever give.

Still, beyond all of the joys (and frustrations) of having a new member in the family, a small part of you questioned yourself: you didn’t even like cats, or any pet for that matter.

So why have you decided to take her in? She’s very cute and fluffy, and she needed to be taken care of. That’s it. You kept on convincing yourself that it was the only reason. Everybody gives in to their cuteness aggression once in a while, right?

But deep down, you knew that somehow, this cat reminded you of...the very person you claimed you used to dislike—Jungwon.

Of course, you liked Chloe just as she was. Not because she reminds you of the boy. But you could barely accept the thought that dawned on you ever since Jungwon first visited your house.

Her loveliness wasn’t just the prelude for you to take her home and treat her as your child. It was also because no matter how you looked at her, well especially into her eyes, it’s like you were seeing him.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as you slowly sink into a moment of clarity. Sure, you didn’t know what love was yet, at least not romantically. But at that moment, it’s as if things fell into place.

You realized how happy you were with him, how everything feels easy and natural when he’s around, how you found yourself craving his presence all the time, admiring everything that there is to him, flaws and all, and wanting to take care of him—more than just a friend.

Jungwon was everywhere whether you liked it or not, even at times where you didn’t realize it. In your thoughts, your dreams, your diary entries, in every romantic song you’d listen to, and literally everywhere that you’d see the color blue and orange.

He was in the stars that lit up the night sky, the moon that illuminated the clouds in the vast darkness, and in the eyes of every cat that you’d see.

Maybe, no—there was no doubt to it anymore, you liked Yang Jungwon.

Your eyes land on the small calendar on your table and an idea pops into your mind. The school festival. With a new-found determination, you begin to clear up your things on the table to make some space for craft materials.

If you were going to confess to Jungwon, it had to be something proper but classic. A letter. You had lost count of just how many sheets of paper you had already used up by perfecting your handwriting and revising your message so many times, and even during dinner your mind was occupied with all of the things you wanted to tell him.

You poured your heart out into the letter, from every word written inside to the way it was folded and how it looked outside, everything had to be real good. After all, this wasn’t just any simple letter that you usually gave your friends.

It was a letter of confession to your former rival—a friend that you had grown to love more than you realized, and you had to let him know just how much you cared about him. Even when there’s a chance that he didn’t feel the same.

Or so you thought.

jimin - serendipity (full length) 𓇗 &team - firework 𓇗 zhang yi hao - forever star

Time, it seemed, had flown by and then it was February. Jungwon’s birth month. He had always looked forward to it, every day a step closer to graduation and to celebrate another year of his life.

But now, he couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of dread as the school year inched to a close, yet his feelings remained untold. He wasn’t even sure if you felt the same but regardless, he wanted to be honest with you about how he feels.

Truthfully, Jungwon didn’t even care anymore if it turns out you were going to different universities. He had already imagined all sorts of scenarios.

Travelling to your school, making time in between hectic schedules, late nights filled with talking over the phone, sending you flowers every now and then, making prep meals to keep at your dorm—he had it all visualized already. Sometimes he felt a bit too optimistic at the thought, and his diary was a witness to all his near-Shakespearean complaints.

Then came the opportunity for confessing. The long-awaited school festival. Jungwon knows he might be stuck with his duties again, but it was also a good time to open his heart to you. A vibrant environment, a vast selection of foods and places to go to, countless things to experience, and a fireworks display at night? It couldn’t have been any better.

On the night before the festival, he was thankful that the preparations had drained him so much that he practically plopped onto his bed, or else he wouldn’t have gotten any sleep with how giddy he was feeling for the next day.

Before he fell into a deep slumber that evening, his eyes were set on the window where the frigid breeze of the snowfall seeped in through his windows that made him pull up the covers even more, a stark contrast to how he suffered under the heat of the sun earlier that day and soaked his handkerchief with sweat.

A subtle smile played on his lips as he finally closed his eyes, having only one thing in his mind—unlike the volatile weather that February, his feelings were now certain, and he was determined to tell you everything.

The following day, you could barely contain your anticipation for the festival, evident with how your group chat was already buzzing with endless messages in the morning. Excited must’ve been an understatement, especially when you arrived by the school gates and met the others.

The whole place was bustling with activities and lively chatter from the crowd, the colors, sounds, and aromas from everywhere all mixing in your senses and overwhelming you in a good way.

You prepared a bit more than usual and brought a point-and-shoot camera with you, determined to make the most out of your last school festival as a high schooler.

As it always happened with school events, Jungwon would briefly meet the five of you for a quick chat before he got pulled back to his president duties, with him now openly protesting at the tasks.

Although for most of the day, you were actually a complete team. Travelling from booths to stalls, various displays and games, and watching outstanding performances from fellow students.

Jungwon’s schedule wasn’t as hectic as usual, but every now and then, he would still have to excuse himself or begrudgingly be pulled aside to look over some events and ensure that everything was running smoothly. He would roll his eyes almost everytime, complaining as to why the council and other departments always needed him.

He just wanted to happily spend the whole day with his friends especially with you, uninterrupted. To hell with duties, he thought. He had never been frustrated of his position until he became friends with you.

But a small part of him had to admit that he liked it when you saw how diligent he was as the president. Your constant praise would make him feel a bit too proud inside, and he’d always try to hide the shy smile on his face. It somehow made up for his frustrations.

The longest he had been away was for an hour, near sunset, when he was asked to check on stage preparations for the performances later. Reluctantly, you had to move forward and leave him be, although Jungwon wished he could just stop everything and be with you.

You were all having too much fun that you had almost forgotten what you prepared for that day. It was only during nightfall when the first faint stars glimmered in the darkness and the air becoming cool and crisp that you had remembered it.

All the relaxation that you felt from idly walking around during sunset was now replaced with a rush of adrenaline again, the pressure of a time crunch falling with your anticipation and nerves.

You told your friends that you were just going to look for a certain someone and to call each other when needed, setting a specific spot for all of you to meet later.

They were all quick to agree as they already had plans in mind, and well, maybe because they knew who exactly you were going to find. It was a fast and unspoken conversation just with their shared glances that this might finally be a chance for the two of you.

So as they went off to the vast oval field, with Sunoo and Riki even bickering what area they should go to next, you headed off to nowhere, with literally no specific destination in mind as you just walked around the frustratingly massive school grounds, your heart skipping a beat every time you’d think that it was finally him that you saw.

But what was this mission of yours anyway? It was simple and so well-thought-out. You had the letter for Jungwon that you made about a week ago, tucked safely inside your jacket. You didn’t know until when you could keep on waiting to have an alone time with him, but you also had to do it when the day was coming to an end already, so you needed to find him now.

And what was the plan? Again, simple. Give the letter to Jungwon then run away, since you didn’t want to see how he would react. Yes, a really good plan. Because that’s what brave people do when they confess.

You couldn’t help but feel nervous at the whole thing. Your thoughts were racing a mile per minute and it didn’t seem like the surge of adrenaline in your system would go down anytime soon. You didn’t even know where you were going anymore. You just needed to find him, see him.

At the same time that you roamed through the crowd, Jungwon was also looking for you. He had a serious plan of his own, and he wasn’t going to have it fail this time. At around 4:30 in the afternoon, Jungwon went out of the school to pick up a bouquet of tulips and baby’s breath that he ordered a few days ago, frantically trying not to bump into any of his friends when he came back, especially you, lest the blooms in his hands would certainly be questioned.

So he left the flowers by his desk at the student council office, carefully hidden from anyone’s sight and any possible danger, that he will only retrieve when he finally has you somewhere private and undisturbed.

As he wove through the busy crowd, he went on a rundown of his plan. He would give you the bouquet, declare his heartfelt confession, and...well, wait for how you would react.

He could practically feel his senses on alert for any hint of you, his system now running on a mix of agitation and excitement, powered by the magic of a strawberry Yakult earlier that he hoped would calm his nerves.

Meanwhile just meters away, you stopped in your tracks to take a breather, your mind filled with worries and doubts for what could possibly happen next. The air felt charged with so much liveliness from the bustling crowd, the aroma of sweet cotton candies nearby doing very little to put you out of your current dilemma.

You stood there, looking like a lost child as your gaze travelled around for a few seconds before momentarily lowering your head, eyes cast down with a small frown. Maybe you should just give up on it. Maybe this was all a stupid idea. Confessing to your friend, really? To Yang Jungwon?

It was at that moment that Jungwon finally sees you amidst the sea of people, your motionless figure standing out from the tide of students flowing towards their destinations. He immediately feels a pang of worry and wonders why you’re alone, yet he couldn’t help but think if you were also looking for him.

You take a few deep breaths, deciding that consequences could come later, and all that matters now is to do this when you’re still running on a surge of adrenaline. You clench your hands, raising them to your shoulder level as you inwardly cheer yourself up, mouthing encouraging words.

The sight brings a faint smile to Jungwon’s face, just like it always has since you were in 8th grade. From the hallways, cafeteria, lockers, debate meetings—anywhere that he could see you at school, even when simply passing by your room.

He would look at you whenever he has the chance, with you being blissfully unaware of his lingering stares and almost lovesick smiles. He didn’t know back then why he was inexplicably drawn to you, even when you ardently debated with him.

But now he understands.

And as if the universe conspired at that moment, you looked around again with a determined gaze, until your eyes fell onto a set of bright boba eyes, staring right back at you.

The eye contact brings a soft smile to your faces, like it always did whenever you two would exchange a glance. Seeing him wearing his student council shirt making him a conspicuous presence in the crowd brings you back to the moment you first saw him at that booth in 8th grade, only that you two had now grown up in different ways, and had come to understand each other.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you walked towards one another, each step making your hearts pound even more in anticipation, the world seemingly fading into an animated backdrop as you met halfway.

Jungwon couldn’t stop the growing smile on his face as you both finally came to a halt, gacing each other, his radiant expression mirroring yours and the growing warmth in your hearts.

“Hi,” Jungwon breathes out, trying to relax his racing heartbeat. “Why are you alone? Where are the others?”

“I was looking for you.”

“Oh...” he smiles softly. “I was looking for you too.”

You laugh together, instantly falling into a light conversation and letting each other know what you did and had missed out on when you were apart.

Jungwon was just waiting for your little chat to end before he would ask you to go with him, whereas you were looking for the right opportunity to give him the letter and run.

So as soon as a brief pause took over your conversation, Jungwon mustered up the courage to finally ask you, feeling as if his heart was about to leap out of his chest.

“Y/N, can we—”

“Jungwon, there you are!”

What the...? You both turned to look at where the voice came from, and Jungwon internally groaned upon seeing a student who wore the same shirt as him.

He had desperately wished that it was nothing related to his duties, but that sliver of hope was shattered as soon as the council member spoke.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere! The kids from the music department was asking if you could—”

No. Jungwon couldn’t help but internally panic. Just when he finally got the chance, and now you’re slipping from his hands again?

No way.

He quickly made up his mind and grabbed your hand before you could even register what was happening.

“Sorry, I’ll meet you later!”

In the blink of an eye, you were now running away from the poor council member who was taken by surprise at the president’s actions, and you couldn’t help but shout a quick sorry too.

“Yang Jungwon, where are we going?!”

He laughs loudly. “I don’t know!”

One moment you were casually talking to him, and the next you let him drag you and run off to nowhere. Now you were both laughing your hearts out, the sound mixing with the sudden booms and whistles that echoed across the sky.

You two looked up to see fireworks erupting overhead, painting the velvet evening sky with streaks of vibrant colors, serving as an enticing feast for your eyes.

Each burst of the chromatic sparks was like a blooming flower, its petals going down into a rainfall of shooting stars. The night sky ephemerally turned into a garden filled with luminescent floras.

With your hands still clasped together as you raced through the crowd, Jungwon looked back at you with a bright smile on his face and his eyes sparkling with delight, spilling endless words of amazement.

You mirrored the joy on his face as you smiled back, the colorful flames not only lighting up your path but also the utter happiness in your expressions.

The whole scene felt cinematic, its beauty making the night feel magical, a sense that anything was possible, but it also gave you a touch of melancholy.

You didn’t know what the future held for you and the boy who held your hand right now, but at this moment, you could only wish that this was how it was always going to be with him—to bask in the feeling of freedom, hope, and happiness.

Jungwon thinks so too. As your hands remained intertwined in the seemingly endless chase, he felt that this was where he is free, where he belongs. With you. And he knows he won’t ever be able to let you go now, more than friends or not.

Eventually, the running had to come to an end as you felt like your legs were about to give up on you. The two of you stopped at a secluded area in the school grounds, the number of students now barely existent in the quiet clearing.

You immediately approached a tree nearby and rested your back on its trunk, with Jungwon following closely behind, his laughter making your heart soar. The explosions in the sky had gradually vanished, the smell of gunpowder now lingering in the air.

As you leaned against the tree with your ponytail a bit loose from all the running, laughing breathlessly with a radiant smile, and a gentle breeze rustling some petals to fall around you—Jungwon thinks you couldn’t have been any prettier.

As a matter of fact, the prettiest girl he has ever seen.

And there it was again, the familiar flutter in his heart whenever he’s with you. The somersaults that his stomach was having whenever he’d hear your laugh or see that wide smile on your face.

And he realizes, now is the time.

He takes a deep breath to steady himself before approaching you, his voice turning soft and a little nervous as he calls your name.

“Y/N.”

You turn to meet his gaze, your laughter fading as you recognized that certain tone in his voice. The one he always uses when he has something important or serious to tell you.

You push yourself off the tree and walk towards him, trying to appear casual despite being just as nervous as him as you anticipated whatever he was going to say.

He looks down for a moment before his eyes return to you, gulping nervously when he tried to compose himself, yet the tenderness in his voice had betrayed him.

“Can I...can I hold your hand?”

“Sure,” you quickly agreed and he slowly reached his hand out to take yours, inwardly cursing himself as he noticed that it was slightly shaking.

It didn’t escape your senses too and so you gently squeezed his hand, silently reassuring him that it will be alright. You could see the nervousness in his eyes, but he pushes through it.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say for a while now...but I didn't want to ruin things and I was scared of what you’d think...but now, I don’t think I could keep it in any longer.”

Yang Jungwon barely kept a secret from you, aside from these brewing feelings. So hearing these words from him right now, your anxiousness and anticipation reach an all-time high.

You tried to think of all possible things, though there was one that stood out, and you couldn’t help but feel a little stupid for being hopeful. It was hard not to when the boy was looking at you so delicately and his hand seemingly held onto yours for dear life.

Jungwon panics inside as soon as he realizes that his little rehearsals in front of the mirror went to waste, every single word that he practically carved into his mind now gone out of the window. In this moment, blown by the gentle breeze of the night, perhaps.

But your touch grounds him to reality, and he knows that nothing would change whether he would profess practiced words or not—he had fallen for you, hard, and the way to declare that now was simply to listen to what his heart says.

“Y/N, I really admire you. You know that, right? But there’s more than just that.”

He takes a deep breath. This is it, Jungwon. No more hiding.

“I’m captivated by your kindness and strength. I really look up to your intelligence and courage. I-I think highly of you, you know? You’re very understanding and I really appreciate you. You matter a lot to me.”

“And you’re really beautiful, inside and out.” His voice quiets down for a moment, and he helplessly smiles. “I just...adore you.”

“You deserve more than just this, whatever this is that I’m doing, I...I actually bought you some flowers but I left them at the office and I can’t go back now because the travel from here to there would give me the misfortune of running into the council again—”

You silently break out into laughter at his exasperation, evident from how the words came out of his mouth without a pause. Jungwon takes a break to laugh with you, a shy smile accompanying the rosy pink that delicately painted his cheeks.

But after a few moments, his laughter fades into another deep inhale, his expression shifting to something more earnest, and maybe even a little anxious.

“Y/N...I’m really, scared, of losing our friendship, but I can’t keep this hidden anymore.”

A short pause hangs in the air that makes you tighten your hold on his hand ever so slightly, and Jungwon takes a moment to admire you before letting his heart speak once more.

“The truth is, I’m not sure if this is love, but it feels special, and I think there’s potential for something real, something else between us. If you would have me, I’d take care of you, and I want—I’ll strive to be worthy of and earn your affection.”

You reflect the mellow expression on his face and it echoes the fondness swirling in your heart, your mind now rid of any thoughts, save for the words of the cat-eyed boy holding your hand.

“You don’t have to feel anything for me, I just couldn’t keep it in any longer and I had to tell you.”

He gulps thickly, and the hopefulness in his voice makes you want to just pull him into a gentle embrace, to assure him that his feelings weren’t unrequited.

“But if you would, if you would...give me, us, the chance, maybe...” he searches your eyes, as if looking for comfort in them. “...maybe we could be more than just friends.”

Jungwon feels like he’d just ran out of air after finally laying bare his heart, but as you only stared at him with a stunned expression, it’s almost like he had to hold his breath and desperately wait for what you would do next.

His gaze darts across your features, analyzing every little shift in your expression and overthinking the words that left his mouth.

Was he too direct? Was it not heartfelt enough? Could he have said something wrong? Do you feel awkward at him now? Would you push him away? This was it. He was going to lose you, this friendship, and—

“Jungwon.”

His eyes draw up to meet your gaze, and you feel a pang of worry at how vulnerable he looks right now, so you kindly smile at him.

“Thank you.”

He blinks one, two, three times, and it’s like you knocked the air out of him again. “Wh-what?”

You warmly smile at him, patting the back of his hand. “Thank you for telling me how you felt.”

It was true. Despite your initial surprise, you had the feeling that it must’ve taken a lot of courage for him to say those things, and that he was just as nervous as you.

However, your words don’t fully reassure Jungwon, even as he breathes a sigh of relief. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes as his gaze travels across your face, and he stays silent, waiting for you to say more.

Just then, he sees that familiar glint in your eyes and the subtle smile on your lips—a telltale sign that you were definitely not going to respond in a way that he would expect, or at least be prepared for. And Jungwon doesn’t know whether he should be relieved or anxious by it.

“Is this your way of telling me that you want us to be ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’?”

He closes his eyes with a silent laugh, almost in disbelief at how playful your tone was, considering the soulful confession he had just made. He feels as though his heart was bursting with happiness right now at the implication of your words. So when his eyes stare right into yours again, he takes a few seconds before he speaks with a fond smile.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t care about any names, Y/N. All I want is a chance from you.” He takes a step closer, and you weren’t sure if you were just imagining it, but his gaze seemed to have softened.

“Any names, any chances, I’d take it. I wouldn’t mind taking it slow and wait for you. But all of it, only...”

Only what...?

To your surprise, he slightly leans down and lifts your hand up to meet his face. Then it happened before you could even think about what he was going to do. His lips found its way to the back of your hand, his touch just as gentle and reverent as when he had done it before.

But this time, Jungwon doesn’t open his eyes to meet yours, not even to woo or sweep you off your feet. Instead, his lips linger on your skin for a moment longer than necessary, as if he’s taking all his time to let you know how sincere he was about his feelings.

And when he finally straightens up again, you could feel your heart skip a beat at the look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, his voice the softest you’ve ever heard from him.

“...only if you say yes.”

So, it seemed like Prince Charming from that third Cinderella film was right. At this moment, the stars were shining brighter tonight—all because of the person you adored.

Perhaps, this was love, with Yang Jungwon.

You smiled at him before you looked away and reached for the letter inside your jacket. Jungwon is confused at first, and he feels as if he was now caught in a whirlwind of falling petals as you handed him the envelope.

“I...I was about to give you that tonight, and let you know how I feel.”

His eyes moved from the letter in his hands and to your eyes, and he thinks to himself that he would’ve completely melted by now if it weren’t for your hand holding his.

Then just as he thinks of your touch, you bring the top of his hand to meet your lips in a quick yet soft kiss without tearing your gaze away from him. His breath catches in his throat, but it doesn’t feel suffocating. He feels as if he’s being embraced gently by your warmth.

“But I’m here now, and that’s what matters,” you add with a smile, and Jungwon feels like his knees would’ve buckled if he didn’t try to remain composed.

“You don’t have to earn my affection. You already have my heart with you—I like you a lot, Yang Jungwon.”

The thumping of his heart echoes even louder in his ears, and his face lights up with a gentle smile, one that makes you feel that it’s a smile you’d want to protect for the rest of your life.

You only stare at each other for a moment, holding a meaningful gaze that spoke volumes of how you saw each other now. With a sense of understanding and appreciation that enveloped your hearts, that this was where you felt safe and belonged to.

The joy and contentment in your faces were illuminated once the second wave of fireworks burst in the sky, the spectrum of colors and patterns reflecting in your irises, as if further igniting the spark between you two and turning them into a waterfall of dazzling flames.

You both turned to look up at the same time, admiring the beautiful array of brilliant rubies, cupid pink arrows, blazing embers of a hearth, golden rays, electric blue, and aquamarine waves—each luminary streak falling down in drops of star dust, mirroring the sparkle of warmth in your hearts.

Jungwon lightly tugged your hand to pull you closer beside him, your gazes still fixed on the magic of the dancing lights above as your shoulders brushed against one another. He intertwines your fingers and traced his thumb at the back of your hand, the small gesture conveying his affection for you.

A moment of quiet intimacy falls upon the two of you, but the warmth and comfort you found in each other’s presence was enough proof of how your brewing emotions had now turned on a new page, with the pirouette of fireworks and star-lit sky bearing witness to the whole scene.

And as you stood side-by-side with your former rival, student council president, and good friend Yang Jungwon, maybe even your lover now—you know that there wouldn’t be any other answer to him than yes.

💌 : you’ve made it here? thank you so much for reading! get yourself some blueberry cheesecake 🥰

#jungwon x reader #jungwon oneshots #jungwon fluff #jungwon imagines #jungwon scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon oneshots #yang jungwon fluff #yang jungwon imagines #yang jungwon scenarios

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glassbxttless · 2 months ago

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Maybe I want to see Sam being petulant. Just for funsies.

Like as soon as you sit down on the couch he’s saying he wants a snack. Or maybe could you get him a beer? Just this once please, his leg, you see, it really hurts today. Oh and the topical cream, makes his hands tingly and he can’t get up to wash them after, so…. Do you mind?

I just think it could be fun.

Counter-Offer

sam o’brien (warfare) x fem!reader

word count: 1k+

summary: You’re exhausted, but Sam’s having a bad leg day.

warnings: sam’s just a bit of an ass lmao. there’s some alcohol consumption and mentions of pain medicine. some swearing.

notes: i really do enjoy writing sam! all requests are written in my little sam universe unless otherwise explicitly stated. This one was fun, a little hard to write but fun nonetheless. thank you to @getaapologist for the request and for reading this baby over. and thank you to @peachyproserpina for editing! means the world!

It’s been a long day, between running late this morning on account of Sam’s whispers of “just come back to bed,” and hazy morning kisses, and the mountain of paperwork at your desk as soon as you stepped over the threshold of your office, and you wanted nothing more than to just come in and relax. Sam’s on the couch when you step inside. The remote resting against his chest and his leg and head are propped up on pillows. You kick your shoes off and toss your bag and jacket into a heap on the floor to deal with later. You make your way to the recliner and you’ve barely just sat down— you didn’t get that end-of-day, full-body collapse kind of sit into your favorite spot that would swallow you whole if you let it. No, as soon as your ass brushes the cushion, Sam’s twisting his head around on the pillow to give you the most pleading eyes he could muster.

“Babe,” his voice is real soft when he speaks, like he knows that if he starts gentle, everything will work out in his favor. “You think maybe you could grab me a snack?”

You look over, your bones feeling weary as you want nothing more than the softness of the recliner to swallow you up. “You’ve been home all day. You had snacks when we were on the phone… twenty minutes ago.”

“Yeah,” his voice is still quiet, like he’s ten and being scolded. “But I ate them.”

Your eyes narrow. “You ate that entire thing?”

Sam shrugs, guiltily proud. “In my defense, you bought the good pretzels. The honey mustard ones.”

You stare at him for a few moments. He stares right back. The silence stretches between you. You’re in a weird half down, half up, sit. He blinks first. “Okay, okay, sweetheart, counter-offer?” he smiles a bit, wriggling his foot. “Just a beer. One beer. Yeah? I deserve one. My leg is killing me today.”

You raise a brow. “Is it?”

“Yes,” he says immediately, like he wasn’t being a petulant child.

“You take your pain medicine?” You ask softly, if he has gotten himself into hurting as bad as he says; he can deal with it.

“Yeah, of course I did,” he’s quick to answer. “With breakfast. A Jimmy Dean sausage sandwich.”

You sigh and stand up, making your way to the kitchen. You do indeed find his painkillers on the counter, a sausage biscuit wrapper right next to it, and an empty beer bottle already in the garbage. Sam grins, victorious. You can feel his smugness like heat from a fire. He’s basking in it. You sigh, placing the pill bottle back into the cabinet where all of the other medicines are. And then you’re brushing the wrapper into the garbage, along with the crumbs, grumbling to yourself about cleaning up after a grown man. You grab a beer from the fridge and make your way back to the living room. You hand him the beer and go to sit down again, but his voice stops you— again— right before you make contact with your seat.

“Oh, uh, babe? One more tiny thing, please? The topical cream.”

Your eyes close and you let a breath out your nose— calming, soothing, you can’t kill him right now. “The what now?”

He holds up his hands, in a mock surrender. “The one for my leg, you know the one? The one that makes my hands all tingly. I can’t— like, if I touch anything, I might ruin the couch. And I can’t get up to wash them after, so… do you mind?”

You glare at him from where you had finally given in and sat down. But he gives you those eyes. The big brown ones you had fallen in love with so many years ago. The ones that say, I’m annoying but adorable and you love me anyway. And damn it, he’s not wrong. You push yourself up and walk off to the bathroom for the cream, muttering under your breath about how this is exactly how divorces happen. Sam calls after you, “You’re a hero, babe, you know that? Gonna marry you one day!”

When you return, you step over Whiskey who had parked it right in front of the couch. And you carefully lift both of his legs, sliding in beneath them. He winces dramatically and says, “Ouch. My leg, baby. Show some compassion.”

You roll your eyes, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” You mumble as you roll the bottom of his shorts up to expose more of his skin. You uncap the tube and gently start to work the cream into his skin, even if he winces every now and again. Your fingers work diligently, quietly, eyes fixated on the scarred skin beneath your touch. You know it has to hurt, even if Sam has been playing it up more than he needs to. But you also know Sam tries his best to hide it away from anyone, even you, on his really bad days. You catch a glimpse of him, his eyes on the tv. Each time your fingers come close to a particularly tender spot— his jaw twitches, his eyes shut for just a moment, and he lets out a breath you know he’s trying to make soundless.

But now you’re finally sitting down. Actually sitting. Maybe not relaxing all the way, but you’re sitting. He cracks open the beer and clinks it against your arm like it’s a toast. “To you. The love of my life. My nurse, my bartender, my emotional support human.”

“You’re a fuck, you know that?” you mutter, moving your hand down to squeeze his shin lovingly anyway.

He smiles, takes a long sip from the beer, and hums before he turns away from the tv, his eyes on yours. “God, I love you. We should get married.”

“After 10 years and you almost dying, this is what finally gets me a proposal?” You roll your eyes, still working the cream into his skin. You can feel the tension starting to melt away, he’s starting to relax finally.

Sam just brings the bottle to his lips for a drink before holding it out to you, smiling. You take it and bring it to your own, letting your eyes close for just a moment as you drink. “I would’ve married you 10 years ago, sweetheart.”

tags ;; @getaapologist

#glassbxttless #female reader #sam warfare #sam warfare x reader #sam warfare x fem!reader #sam o’brien (warfare) x reader #cw: alcohol consumption #cw: painkillers #cw: swearing

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aureatchi · 2 years ago

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𓂃‧ ෆ˚ all SFW. info/content warnings on individual posts. this masterlist is for: 𝐵𝒰𝒩𝒢𝒪 𝒮𝒯𝑅𝒜𝒴 𝒟𝒪𝒢𝒮 !

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝒲𝐸 𝒟𝒪 𝒜𝑅𝒯 ! (renaissance!au dazai x reader x fyodor love triangle) ♡

𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈.

a night @ a jazz bar! dates with them at a jazz club ft. dazai, chuuya, and ranpo

how they kiss you (& other hcs) ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, nikolai, and sigma ♡

santa tell me if he really cares ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor, nikolai, and sigma

winter scenarios ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, and nikolai

when you’re sick ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, akutagawa, and sigma

stargazing with them ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, and sigma ♡

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔.

a night to remember. you stumble across your ex-boyfriend one night after an exhausting week.

bubbles in my champagne, let it be some jazz playin’ things don’t go as planned when the pm boss tries to introduce you as his girlfriend. ♡

but can you see it too? the way the skies are turning blue you dream of dazai’s return, to be cuddled in his arms during quiet mornings once again.

𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀.

what a scaredy cat! watching a horror movie together (halloween themed)

𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑.

for once, i was the muse in the artist’s eyes; i was the poem on the poet’s tongue a surprise museum date for your birthday ♡

and that day that we’ll watch the death of the sun fyodor coaxes you to sleep on his lap ♡

#♱ table of contents.#all works fem!reader unless stated otherwise.

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makixroll · 8 days ago

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MAKEUP ARTIST — yuma ۫ ꣑ৎ

pairing . . . yuma x fem!reader

contents . . . fluff , reader is older than yuma , calls her nee-san .

All &team's makeup artists never really liked doing Yuma's makeup, it isn't because of his attitude or anything. Rather, Yuma never stays still whenever he's having his makeup done. He never stays put, he always has something to do, like messing with other members, running around, teasing his makeup artist by purposely leaning on the opposite way they asked him to, having his makeup artist catch up with him. They've grown tired, and had already pointed fingers on who gets to be the lucky person to do Yuma's makeup.

But not to you, Yuma never did that to you. Whenever you're the one doing his makeup look, he stays put, not moving an inch unless stated otherwise by you. And the other stylist had caught up with this, which leads to you taking care of Yuma.

Yuma never teased you, nor did he give you a hard time, everytime the young ones tried to tease him, Yuma would shoo them away, threaten them, and stopped them, not wanting to mess up your godly work on his face.

Yuma would only stay still and be quiet, offering a few shy giggles whenever you drop a small joke during the process. Sometimes, you'd have small talks with Yuma, he'd reply only shortly, since he was too shy to converse with you.

But despite his shyness, he couldn't help but stare at you with doe eyes as he waits for you to finish his makeup. If it was possible, Yuma wishes that this time wouldn't end, that you'd do his makeup forever. That you'll be beside him close forever, touching hid face, caressing his cheeks, holding his jaw so delicately as if you'll break him.

"I used a new foundation since the ones I always use on you was sold out, is it okay? Do you feel itchy?" You asked in a soft way, which made Yuma's heart flutter. It took him a while to register the things you said as he stared at you, waiting patiently for his answer.

"Yuma?" You called out, after noticing his quietness, which was really unlike him. Yuma snapped out from his thoughts as he shook his head.

"Oh‐ uh... no, no. It's okay, the foundation." Yuma answered, stumbling on his words. You smiled with a nod, before resuming on doing the next step for his makeup look.

Once again, he stayed put. Yuma's hands placed on top of his lap as he bunched up on the pants he wore, his lips were pursed, while his eyes never left your face. Even if you told him to look up, he finds himself doing it just a for a few seconds before his eyes would find themselves to yours once again.

When you were done doing his makeup, you offered Yuma a kind smile as you leaned away from him. He tried to suppress a whine from escaping his lips, he was disappointed that it ended so quickly. Yuma wanted to spend more time with you, even if he couldn't answer you clearly, even if the only thing he could offer was stare at you until you were done.

"There, all done!" You exclaimed excitedly, admiring the hard work you had put on Yuma's face. Yuma grinned happily at you, his eyes sparkling as they stared at you instead of the mirror.

"Thanks, nee-san!" Yuma said, his kansai accent coming out, as well as his snaggletooth that you found absolutely adorable. But you didn't tell him that, no.

Maybe someday Yuma could tell you about his adorable feelings towards you, someday. But today, he'll just stare at you fondly until you get caught and fall inlove with him. That'll work, right? Because everyone knows no one could resist Yuma's charms, not even you.

#andteam #&team #andteam drabbles #andteam fluff #andteam x reader #&team x reader #&team fluff #&team yuma #&team yuma x reader #yuma x reader #yuma nakakita #andteam yuma x reader #yuma nakakita x reader #nakakita yuma x reader #nakakita yuma

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twoplayergaymers · 5 months ago

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A Sign Of Affection—

Part One // Part Two// Part Three

❋ deaf! Bakugo x Fem Interpreter! Reader

❋ Interpreting for Dynamight: How Hard Could It Be?

❋ a note before you begin:

After the lessons, every dialogue between bkg & the reader is signed and also verbally spoken simultaneously (unless stated otherwise or unless it’s in ASL gloss, it’s only signed.. lowkey I got lazy writing out the gloss) somewhat proofread, also idk if I ever specified but they’re like 24.

It’s been a few weeks since you caught Bakugo practicing his signs in his office that night. The sight stirred something warm in your chest, feelings you knew might be there but had been pushing down. You had no idea how long he’d been practicing on his own, but knowing he was doing this for you made your heart swell.

Your lunch “dates” with Bakugo have become a routine—Monday, Wednesday, Friday. On Tuesday, Thursday, and the occasional weekend, whether you’re working or not, you spend time with Talia. It’s a good system, one that keeps everyone happy. Most of all, you.

You’d gotten to know him better, comfortable enough to tease and joke with him, not missing the way his ears would tint pink, sticking out from the neck of his winter costume. Surprisingly, he’d become a little more talkative—at least, talkative for Bakugo. You do most of the talking, rambling about the stupid TikToks you see when scrolling before bed, how your favorite time of year is approaching, or how every time it snows it reminds you of making snow angels with the other kids in elementary school. He listens, head resting in his hand, nodding occasionally. He always listens.

One day, as you’re rambling on, hands flying as you speak, you catch his eyes. He’s watching you softly, his gaze intense but not unkind. For a moment, you freeze, caught off guard by the way his focus never wavers from you. It’s different from the usual Bakugo—no sarcasm, no annoyance. Just… quiet attention. Your heart skips a beat, and you clear your throat awkwardly, suddenly self-conscious under his stare.

“What?” you ask, your voice a little unsure, unsure if you’ve caught him in a moment of distraction or something more.

He leans back slightly, crossing his arms with that familiar gruffness, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “Teach me more.”

Your brow furrows. “Teach you more? What are you talking about?”

“Sign language,” he clarifies with a slight frown, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been practicing on my own, but… it’s harder without someone to help. So teach me more.”

You blink, surprised by the request. You didn’t expect him to ask, especially after all this time. “You want me to teach you more?” You repeat, feeling a little stunned.

“Yeah, unless you think I can’t handle it,” he adds, his tone rough but with a hint of something softer underneath.

You pause, feeling a smile tug at your lips. “Woooow THE Katsuki Bakugo aka greatexplosionmurdergoddynamight asking ME for help?”

He glares at you, unamused. “Shut up, I’m serious.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his attempt to act tough. “Oh, I’m serious too. The mighty Dynamight wants me to teach him how to sign? This is a day I’ll never forget,” you tease, hands dancing in the air as you laugh lightly. “okay, okay, fine!”

He nods, rolling his eyes but seemingly satisfied with your answer, and you can’t help but feel a little nervous, a little excited by the prospect of spending even more time with him in a completely new way.

“But,” you add, “we’re not just doing signs. You can’t really understand the language without knowing the culture behind it, so I’m gonna teach you about Deaf history too. You good with that?”

For a moment, he seems to hesitate, then he grunts, giving you a half-shrug. “Fine. Whatever. Just teach me.”

“Alright, then. Let’s start with something easy. You know this I’m sure. Repeat after me.” You make the sign for thank you, your fingers gently moving in front of your chin.

He watches for a moment, clearly studying your movements, and then mimics it, though with an exaggerated, almost sarcastic flair. “Thank you,” he signs, the expression on his face a mix of concentration and something close to pride.

You raise an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “You’re gonna need to tone down the ‘grumpy old man’ vibe when you do that. It’s a simple gesture, not a declaration of war.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “I’ll sign however I want.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” you say, trying to hide your smile. “But if you want to be understood, maybe tone it down a notch. Sign’s all about facial expression.”

Bakugo groans, rubbing his temples. “This is gonna be a pain.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” you reassure him, still grinning. “You’re already halfway there. You were learning without me! Just try to be a little more… chill about it. You don’t have to yell at the signs to make them work.”

“I’m not yelling at the signs,” he mutters under his breath, looking as if he’s ready to start up a verbal war with the hand gestures themselves.

You can’t help but laugh, enjoying the easy camaraderie between you two. “Alright, alright. Let’s move on to something else..”

And just like that, your lunch breaks change. They’re no longer just casual moments between coworkers—they’re lessons. Every day, you help him practice new signs, dive into Deaf culture, and teach him about the history behind the language. At first, it’s awkward, but as the days pass, Bakugo’s determination shines through, and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable with him. Little by little, he’s picking it up, surprising you with how fast he learns, his focus sharper than you’d ever expected.

It feels like something more than just teaching. It feels like you’re both learning—not just language, but something deeper, something unspoken.

Some days, Bakugo doesn’t need help. He’ll quietly practice the signs you’ve gone over, occasionally glancing at his notebook and muttering under his breath, and you watch him with a soft smile. Other times, when he’s frustrated, his hands move erratically, and you gently correct him. “Remember, sign’s grammatical structure is different”

He groans but tries again, this time a little more carefully. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

Your bond grows in these moments—subtle, but noticeable. The quiet pauses in conversation aren’t uncomfortable anymore. Instead, they feel like small, private moments that neither of you need to explain. The warmth between you is growing steadily, unnoticed by anyone else but you two.

You’re getting closer, and somehow, it doesn’t feel like the inevitable disaster you might’ve expected. There’s no awkwardness, no anxiety—just a quiet understanding that this, whatever it is, is worth investing in.

Lunch breaks are still your favorite part of the day. But it’s no longer just about teaching him signs; it’s about the little moments in between. The way he chuckles under his breath when he gets a sign right, the way he quietly listens when you talk about your day, and the way his eyes follow your hands as you sign to him—intently, like you’re the only thing in the room.

And though he rarely says it out loud, you can see it in the way his confidence grows. He stops hesitating as much, his movements becoming more fluid, and the frustration he used to carry when he couldn’t get a sign right is replaced with a sense of pride when he nails one. You feel that pride too, making your heart swell.. well that and.. something else

The changes in Bakugo don’t go unnoticed. He’s still the same stubborn, hard-headed hero you met weeks ago, but there’s a gentler side to him now, one that’s more patient, more willing to learn, especially when it comes to you. The way he listens, the way he looks at you when you’re teaching him—there’s something different about it, something that makes your heart flutter unexpectedly. It’s not just admiration for his progress; there’s a deeper connection growing between the two of you, even if you’re not quite sure what to call it yet.

You’re not sure when the shift happened, but somehow, his presence doesn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. His quiet moments with you, his small smirks when you catch him in a mistake, and the soft way he signs “thank you” at the end of each session—those moments become your favorites. It’s almost intimate, the language only two of you in the office understand.

The moments consume your mind more than you care to admit. You try to convince yourself it’s just your ego at play. You’re a great teacher, after all. You tell yourself the way your heart flutters and your skin flushes when you see him genuinely smiling at himself is simply the pride of seeing your little prodigy succeed. It’s what you want to believe.

But somehow, these thoughts slip out during your rambling, and you curse yourself silently for being such a yapper. Now, across the table, Talia’s smirking at you, tapping her French manicure on the surface.

Talia raises an eyebrow, her smirk growing wider as she leans in slightly. “Girl,” she starts, her voice playful, “you are so into him.”

You freeze, suddenly self-conscious, your face going hot. “What? No, I’m not.”

She shrugs, tapping her nails again. “Sure, okay. But I’ve seen the way you talk about him, the way your eyes light up when you mention his progress. You’re practically glowing”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I can’t help it. He’s improving so fast, and it’s just… nice to see him genuinely trying. He’s not just doing it for me, either. He’s really putting in the effort.”

Talia smirks, clearly not convinced. “Uh-huh. Sure, it’s just that. Nothing else.”

You shoot her a glare, but it doesn’t stop her teasing. “Come on, I’m not blind. I see the way you look at him. You can deny it all you want, but I know what I see.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, but the playful tone in your voice betrays you. You’re caught, and you know it

You know it, but you’ll never admit it—not even to yourself. It’s complicated, and frankly, inappropriate on so many levels. You’re his ‘teacher’ and he’s your coworker… practically your boss.

There’s a million things that can go wrong, so many that scramble around in your brain as you stare down at the cup of frozen yogurt before you

You try to focus on the cold swirl of yogurt, the way the spoon sinks into it with a soft, satisfying scoop, but your mind keeps drifting back to him—Bakugo. How everything feels so easy when you’re together, yet it’s so complicated at the same time.

You know you’re crossing lines, blurring boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. He’s your coworker, your boss, and you’re his teacher in this odd, quiet way that nobody else really understands. This is all risky, too risky for someone like you. The heart flutters and the rush of warmth you feel when he looks at you, when he smiles, aren’t supposed to mean anything. But somehow, they do.

A sigh escapes you, and you drop the spoon into the cup with a thud. What is this? What’s going on here?

You’re not sure you can keep pretending it’s nothing.

But you’re sure as hell going to try.

Talia’s voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and teasing, as she watches you play with your frozen yogurt. “You’re looking like you’re about to have an existential crisis. What’s going on in that head of yours?” She leans back in her chair, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, an amused glint in her eyes.

You glance at her, shaking your head but offering a small smile. “It’s nothing,” you murmur, but even you don’t believe it.

Talia raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because I’ve never seen you look this spaced out, don’t think I’ve ever heard you stop talking for this long” she giggles

The teasing tone is there, but you can see the curiosity in her eyes. She knows you too well, and it makes you nervous. You try to keep your voice light. “I’m just tired. Long week.”

She leans in, her expression suddenly serious “don’t lie to me, y/n. What’s going on in that cute little head?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out and you just shrug in response, trying to laugh it off.

Talia raises both hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I get it. Keep your secrets. But just know, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.” She takes a bite of her own frozen yogurt, leaning back in her seat as if she’s already won the conversation.

“So,” Talia begins, spoon halfway to her mouth, “you too busy wallowing in your mystery feelings to come out with me tonight?” She pops the yogurt into her mouth with dramatic flair, chewing slowly.

You roll your eyes, and a hesitant look adorns your face. “I’m not wallowing I just—”

“Uh-uh!” she cuts you off, waving her spoon at you. “You owe me, remember? You ditched me for your little project—your boy,” she says with a smirk, emphasizing the last word as if it’s a scandalous secret.

You groan. “He’s not my boy—”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe,” she interrupts again, leaning back in her chair with a triumphant grin. “But tonight? You’re mine. No excuses. 9pm. Dress real pretty.”

“Fine, you’re so lucky I love you” you say with the shake of your head, taking another bite of your frozen yogurt

And that’s how you find yourself in the dimly lit jazz bar. not what you were expecting from Talia, thinking you’d be finding yourself in some dark, crowded club with music so loud you could feel it vibrating through your bones. Her energy is so playful, so lively you could’ve almost bet she’d be in a scene like that. A bet you apparently would’ve lost.

Your fingers drum idly against the bar as you wait for her to arrive, late, per usual. The jazz music surrounding you is nice, making you hum absentmindedly. You’re about to pull out your phone and text her in all capitals that she’s late and leaving you susceptible to creeps but you hear the click of heels behind you.

Acrylic nails rake lightly along your bare shoulders, making you jump. “Hellooo, gorgeous!” Talia’s voice lilts as she slides up beside you, gesturing dramatically at your outfit. “I see you, little black dress! Lookin’ like dessert!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Flattery won’t make me forget that you’re late, as usual.”

She gasps in mock offense, clutching her chest like you’ve wounded her. “Excuse me! Fashionably late, babe. I had to give you time to get all this attention before I showed up and stole the show.”

You shove her playfully. “Yeah, yeah. I forgive you, though, because damn, my wife is sooo fine.” You drag out the last words, laughing as she strikes a pose.

“Don’t I know it,” she quips with a wink, sliding onto the stool next to you. “Now, what’s the vibe tonight? We drinking to forget, or are we scheming about your boy?”

You roll your eyes, flagging down the bartender. “Neither! You invited me out, we’re having a fun time together.” Talia arches an eyebrow, propping her chin on her hand as she studies you. “Mmmhmm.”

The bartender slides your drink across the bar with a smile, you return it and eagerly take a sip. “Stop looking at me like that. There’s nothing to say.” Her gaze doesn’t waver. “Talia! I’m serious. He’s my coworker. My.. my boss!”

“Uh-huh.” Talia’s smirk widens as she leans closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You’re telling me that you spend all your lunch breaks teaching him sign, watching him practice, and—what was it?—listening to you ramble? And you’re just coworkers?”

You groan, hiding your face behind your glass. “Why did I come here again?”

“Because you love me,” Talia says sweetly, patting your hand. “And because I’m not letting you mope around in your little apartment pretending you don’t have feelings for that man.”

“I do not—”

She holds up a manicured finger, cutting you off. “Nope. Let me finish. You’re allowed to have feelings. It’s not a crime. What’s the worst that happens? He likes you back? Shocking. Scandalous.”

You go to open your mouth again but her finger is still hanging in the air and she pushes it closer to you again, she’s not finished. “Let me be real with you baby, cause I love you. You know that. That man does not do anything he doesn’t want to do. He doesn’t do shit to be nice. Nothing. He wants you, y/n, I fucking know it”

You shake your head in disbelief, nervous smile plastered in your face “you make it sound so simple”

“That’s because it is.” Talia waves her hand as if to dismiss your doubts. “But I get it. You’re scared. You’re like a deer in the headlights of his grumpy charm. It’s cute, really. Annoying, but cute.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Dr. Phil,” you deadpan, but you can’t stop the grin tugging at your lips.

Talia lifts her drink with a wink. “Anytime, babe. Now, cheers to you, me, and your inevitable realization that you’re head over heels for Dynamight.”

You clink your glasses, the sound light and musical against the backdrop of jazz. Maybe she’s right—maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. For tonight, though, you let yourself laugh, let yourself relax, and let the music carry you away.

A few drinks and much tipsy laughter later the bartenders sliding another drink across the bar to you

“Oh? I-“ “it’s from him.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder to a man sitting on the other side of the bar.

“Ooo he’s cute!” Talia whispers, leaning closer to you as the man raises his glass in your direction. You return the gesture with the drink he sent, offering a polite smile before taking a sip and turning back to your conversation with Talia.

Minutes later, just as you’re mid-laugh at something Talia says, the same man appears beside you. He clears his throat softly, a friendly, slightly nervous smile on his face. “Excuse me, ladies. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I just wanted to say hi—and I hope you’re enjoying the drink.”

Talia raises an eyebrow at you, her lips twitching into a mischievous grin. You set your glass down and smile up at him. “Thanks for the drink. That was kind of you.”

“It’s nothing, really. I just thought… well, I couldn’t help but notice your laugh from across the bar.” His smile grows a bit more confident. “It’s contagious.”

Talia nudges your arm with her elbow, and you swear you’ll never hear the end of this late.

You feel your face flush and you can’t tell if it’s from his words or the liquor, but you give a small smile back. as Talia, ever the wingwoman, leans in and whispers, “I’ll give you two some space. I’ll be right over there.” She walks away with a subtle grace, but the second she’s out of his line of sight—and firmly in yours—she shoots you a wide grin and two enthusiastic thumbs up. You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing into your conversation.

“I swear I’ve seen you before..” he starts “I can’t forget a face that pretty. You’re.. on tv right? Wait don’t tell me.. I know this.. interpreting!”

You blink, caught off guard by the leap in logic. “Uh, yeah,” you admit, half-laughing. “I do some interpreting work for heroes sometimes.”

He snaps his fingers, grinning. “I knew it! You’re the one who works with Dynamight, right? That’s so cool.” His tone is earnest, though the mention of Bakugo makes your stomach flip in a way you’d rather not unpack right now.

You nod, swirling the drink in your hand to focus on something other than the sudden knot in your chest. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s, uh… an interesting gig.” You try to keep your tone light, though the thought of Bakugo lingers in the back of your mind.

The man leans on the bar, clearly intrigued. “Interesting’s an understatement. I mean, you must have stories. He’s kind of… intense, right? Like, what’s he like off-camera?”

You can’t help but smile at the question, though it’s small and guarded. “He’s… dedicated,” you say after a pause. It’s not a lie, and it feels safe enough. “Takes his work seriously.”

“Dedicated, huh?” he muses with a chuckle. “Well, I guess that’s a nice way of putting it.”

You laugh softly, sipping your drink. “Something like that.”

The conversation drifts into safer territory you learn his name is Mason, you talk about his job, your favorite drinks, his love for the jazz band currently playing—and it’s surprisingly easy. He’s charming, polite, and not pushy, which you appreciate. Still, there’s something tugging at the back of your mind, pulling you out of the moment.

Talia eventually meanders back, her arrival announced by her heels clicking against the floor. “I hate to interrupt,” she says sweetly, though the mischievous glint in her eyes says otherwise, “but I’m stealing her back for some girl talk.”

Mason doesn’t seem too fazed. “Of course. It was nice meeting you, though. Hopefully, I’ll see you around maybe not just on my tv screen?”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Talia slides back onto the barstool, raising an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you into him, or was that just free drink bait?”

You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh. “He was nice.”

“But…?”

“But nothing,” you insist, though the teasing smile on her face tells you she doesn’t believe you.

Talia leans closer, her voice low and knowing. “It’s because he’s not him, isn’t it?”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you can’t find the words. Because you should be into mason and you’re not. The truth is, she’s absolutely right—but admitting that feels like stepping onto shaky ground you’re not ready to navigate just yet. Instead, you take another sip of your drink and let the music fill the silence.

You quickly change the subject. “Forget men what if I just marry you instead?”

“Now you’re cookin’!”

You wake up the next morning to the blaring of your phones ringtone. With a groggy “hello?” You find out you’re being called into work on your one day off this week. Great.

You drag yourself through your morning routine, repeating a mantra to keep yourself sane: It’s just one meeting. Just one. Then I can go back to bed. Shower, clothes, aspirin, keys, coffee—you’re out the door, though the dull ache in your head reminds you of last night’s decisions.

When you finally trudge into the office, you immediately feel a pair of sharp eyes on you. Katsuki’s leaning against the desk, arms crossed, with a barely-there smirk tugging at his lips.

“You look like hell,” he comments, his tone casual but undeniably amused.

“Good morning to you too,” you mutter, gripping your coffee like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t supposed to be,” you reply, sinking into the nearest chair. “But apparently, nobody respects a day off anymore.” “Hah,” he huffs, shaking his head. “You’re too soft. Should’ve told ‘em no.”

You scoff and glance up at him, brows furrowed in annoyance “I’m YOUR interpreter you know damn well you’re the only reason I’m here”

His expression flickers for a moment—something between amusement and slight irritation—but then he leans forward slightly, resting his hands on the desk. “And you get paid for it, so quit whining.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “You know, you could’ve sent someone else today. Let me have one day off.” “Yeah, but they’d screw it up,” he says bluntly, waving off the idea. “You’re the only one who doesn’t piss me off.”

The comment stirs something in you that you wish it wouldn’t— an overwhelming fluttering in your stomach, millions of butterflies rapidly stirring. God, it makes you feel nauseous, but you quickly push those feelings down. because it’s katsuki, that means nothing.. right?

The meeting goes by in a blur, your hands moving on autopilot, barely registering what you’re signing anymore—it’s just second nature at this point. God, you’re so exhausted.

So exhausted, you almost miss the subtle way Katsuki’s hands move to communicate with you.

TIRED, YOU?

You ball your hand into a fist, thumb resting in front of your knuckles and bend your wrist forward twice

YES!

The way you raise your eyebrows, the look on your face, ‘enthusiastic’ YES.

FOOD, OFFICE, LATER?

Lunch. He’s asking about lunch. You were gonna go straight home.. but.

YES.

You find yourself saying yes.

The meeting finally wraps up, and you both shuffle into Bakugo’s office. You’d planned on today being a half day, so you hadn’t even thought to pack a lunch. You silently hope he doesn’t bring it up, because honestly? You don’t have an excuse.

As soon as you step inside, you slump down onto the couch with a heavy sigh, the cushion swallowing you up like it’s begging you to stay. Lifting your hands, you sign lazily:

TODAY, LESSON, NONE, EXHAUSTED.

Bakugo, who’s in the middle of grabbing a water bottle from his mini fridge, glances over at you and smirks. “You look like you’ve been hit by a bus,” he mutters, twisting the cap off the bottle.

You glare at him half-heartedly, lifting your hands again “wow. Thanks, you’re so nice Bakugo!”

You’ve barely gotten the words out before Katsuki is slumping into his chair, leaning back with a heavy sigh. He raises an eyebrow at you, signing with practiced precision

LESSON, NONE? LAZY.

You narrow your eyes at him, too tired to respond with anything clever. Instead, you let out a breathy laugh, flopping your head back against the couch. “Not lazy. Tired. Huge difference.”

NOT, LAZY, TIRED, DIFFERENT

His lips twitch, not quite a smile but close enough, and he lifts his hands again. “Excuses. Weak.”

You let out a fake gasp, dramatically clutching your chest like he’s just wounded you. “Mean.”

You’re giggling to yourself and for a moment the office is filled with a comfortable silence, the type that settles when two people are at ease.

You look at him, a flash of curiosity falling over your face and you mouth opens, your hands move quicker than your brain even thinks “why don’t you want people to know?”

His brows knit together in confusion, he’s not sure if he understood you correctly. “What?.. know.. what?”

“About you” your bring your index finger and tap it on your ear, then your mouth “being deaf”

He doesn’t respond immediately, taking a second to bask in your question, his eyes fall to the floor. When he finally looks at you, there’s something raw in his expression, something he usually keeps hidden behind all his usual gruffness

“It’s not about shame” his hands move simultaneously as he speaks. “I just… I don’t want anyone thinking I’m weak. That they can use it against me. I have to be the strongest.”

You nod, letting his words settle between you. “I get that. But Deaf doesn’t mean weak, Katsuki” you use his first name without even realizing. “It’s not a weakness—it’s a part of you. And it’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words before finally signing, “It’s beautiful. There’s a whole culture, a whole community, that sees the world differently. You’re part of that, whether you realize it or not.”

His hands fall to his lap, and he studies you with an unreadable expression. “You really believe that?”

You smile softly, your hand touches the side of your forehead with the tips of the fingers ,your hand in a flat shape. “I know that.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, just lets your words linger. Then he lifts his hands again, slower this time, almost timid? “You… make me think about it different-“

He doesn’t finish his sentence, there’s a knock at the door. You glance over as an intern pops their head in, holding a bouquet of flowers so vibrant it practically lights up the dull office.

“Uh, these are for you,” they say, stepping in and handing them to you. “For me?” you ask, confused. You take the flowers, and the intern nods. “Yeah, there’s a note. Looks like your name’s on it.”

Your stomach flips as you glance down at the card tucked between the stems. You open it, reading the handwritten message:

Had a great time meeting you. Would love to see you again. Call me?

There’s a phone number scrawled underneath, and you immediately know who it’s from.

Katsuki, meanwhile, is staring at the flowers like they personally insulted him. “What the hell is that?” he doesn’t bother signing, instead speaking sharply

You feel the flush creeping on the back of your neck as your gaze breaks from the flowers “flowers.. from some guy I met last night”

His jaw tightens, and he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “Lame” he mutters while shaking his head

That earns an eyebrow raise from you. “Lame? I think it’s sweet

“It’s desperate.” He shoots back almost immediately “don’t call him.” There’s a sternness in his voice that a few weeks ago would’ve given you chills but you can’t help the laugh that flys past your lips.

“Excuse me?”

He won’t repeat himself, instead his eyes narrow and he stands up abruptly, shoving his wallet in his pocket and resuming his signing. “Come on. We’re going to lunch, my treat”

You blink up at him, caught off guard by the sudden change of pace. “What?” “You heard me,” he signs, already heading for the door. “We’re getting lunch. Now.”

You can’t help but laugh as you set the flowers down on his desk, grabbing your bag to follow him. There’s no way he’s jealous, right? but he’s definitely not thrilled about the guy from the bar…and, for some reason, you don’t mind that one bit.

The walk to the café down the block is quiet—well, mostly. Katsuki has his hands shoved into his pockets, his brow furrowed as if deep in thought. You steal a glance at him, trying to read his expression, but he’s impossible to crack.

The café is small and cozy, the kind of place that smells like fresh bread and espresso. Katsuki orders for himself without hesitation, then turns to you with a raised brow, waiting for your choice. When you tell him, he nods and adds it to the order, swiping his card before you can even think about reaching for yours.

As you settle into a booth by the window, you can’t help but notice how relaxed he looks here, away from the office and the weight of his hero persona. He’s still gruff, sure, but there’s something softer about him in this moment.

“So,” you start, signing carefully to make sure he catches every word. “What’s with the sudden lunch invite? You’re not usually this… spontaneous.”

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t read too much into it. You looked like you were about to pass out in my office. Figured food would keep you from keeling over.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, so it’s for my benefit? Not maybe because you might be.. I don’t know.. jealous of some guy from the bar?” You’re teasing, you shouldn’t be but god isn’t it fun?

His smirk falters for a split second, just long enough for you to catch it. He quickly recovers, though, leaning forward to sign, “I’m not jealous. Just don’t like idiots wasting your time.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Right,” you sign back, your movements slow and deliberate. “Because you get to decide who’s worth my time.”

“Damn right I do.” His hands move with a confidence that’s almost infuriating. But there’s something else there too, something unspoken that hangs heavy in the air between you.

Before you can even respond, the food arrives, breaking the tension. He begins eating without another word, and you follow suit, though your head is still spinning. There’s no way he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you…right?

You’re eating together in silence for a few long moments when you see little eyes peering over the table in your peripheral vision. You turn your head to see a little girl, she couldn’t have been older than five. Her big brown eyes bouncing between you and Katsuki like she’s starstruck.

You chuckle softly, nudging Katsuki under the table to get his attention. He glances up, confused, before following your gaze to the little girl.

“What?” he mutters, completely missing her awe-struck expression.

“You’ve got an admirer,” you tease, keeping your voice low. Katsuki frowns, but you wave him off and turn to the girl. “Hi there, sweetheart. Can I help you?”

The girl’s hands start moving as she signs, “I know you! You’re on TV! You talk when Dynamight is on tv!”

Your heart melts instantly. “That’s me,” you sign back with a warm smile. “What’s your name?”

She signs back—“Emma.”

“Hi, Emma. It’s so nice to meet you,” you sign, keeping your movements slow and clear. “Do you want to tell Dynamight something?”

Emma nods eagerly, then hesitates. “I’m deaf,” she signs shyly, looking between you and Katsuki.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” you sign back, giving her a reassuring smile. “Let me get his attention for you.”

You tap Katsuki’s arm, and when he looks up, you sign to him, “You have an admirer” You repeat. He furrows his brows in confusion but glances at Emma, his expression softening slightly when he sees her beaming up at him.

“She’s deaf,” you explain.

Katsuki raises an eyebrow but quickly switches to signing. “Hey, kid.”

Emma gasps, her jaw dropping as she stares at him in shock. “You can sign?!” she signs back, practically bouncing in place. “Oh my gosh, you’re my favorite hero! I didn’t know Dynamight could sign!”

Katsuki huffs, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Course I can sign,” he replies. “How else am I supposed to talk to cool kids like you?”

Emma giggles, her eyes sparkling with admiration. She leans closer, signing quickly, “My mom says I can’t have Dynamight toys because they’re for boys, but I don’t care! You’re still my favorite!”

Katsuki’s eyebrows furrow, and he signs back immediately, “That’s dumb. Dynamight’s for everyone. Tell your mom I said so.”

Emma giggles even harder, glancing back at her mom, who’s watching nervously from across the café.

“Do you fight bad guys every day?” Emma asks, her little hands moving excitedly. Katsuki smirks. “Pretty much. But they’re not as tough as me.”

“You’re so cool! Can I be a hero like you one day?”

Katsuki leans forward slightly, his gaze steady and serious. “Yeah, you can. But only if you promise to work hard. No slacking off.” Emma nods so enthusiastically you’re sure she’s going to tumble over. “I promise!”

You can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest as you watch them. Katsuki, for all his rough edges, is handling this so naturally.

“Thanks for talking to me,” Emma signs after a few more moments of chatting. “You’re the best hero ever!”

Katsuki grins faintly, his hand ruffling her hair briefly. “Go tell your mom you’re cool now ‘cause you met Dynamight. Emma giggles again, waving goodbye to both of you before running back to her table. Her mom mouths a thank you to you, and you nod politely.

“She was adorable,” you say, turning back to Katsuki. “Tch. Kids are annoying,” he grumbles, though there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he picks up his drink.

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “You’re good with them, you know.”

“Whatever,” he mutters, but his ears are a little red.

You toss onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you as sleep continues to evade you. Your mind drifts back to the scene at the café, playing it over and over again—Katsuki sitting there, so naturally at ease with that little girl, his sharp eyes softening, his movements fluid and comforting. The way he spoke to her, so effortlessly kind, so… genuine.

Your face flushes at the memory, a quiet warmth spreading across your chest. And, of course, he’s fucking good with kids. He’s everything—strong, confident, and… that kindness.. in the way that katsuki can be kind. You can’t help but think about the way he told Emma, the young girl at the café, that she could be a hero—despite her deafness. How he made her feel seen, empowered, strong.

But then, why did he act so differently when it came to himself? Why did he view his own deafness as something to be hidden, something that made him weaker? That’s what he had said, after all—a weakness—when you asked him why he didn’t want anyone to know. And you can’t help but frown, confusion tightening in your chest.

It’s not a weakness at all… not like he thinks. You know that, deep down. Deafness doesn’t make you less—it’s part of who you are. And yet, here he is—someone so capable, so strong, so undeniably powerful—acting like it’s something to hide, something to shy away from.

Why couldn’t he see what you saw? How empowering it could be, how beautiful. How much it could mean to others to have someone like him—someone so fierce—representing that strength.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, and you shake your head, rolling over onto your other side. Why does he get it for someone else but not for himself?

The frustration eats away at you because Katsuki Bakugo has always been someone who’s never cared what anyone thinks, someone who’s been proud to stand alone, to prove he’s the strongest, to fight for what he believes in without hesitation. So why now? Why does he suddenly feel the need to hide parts of himself from the world?

That’s what gnaws at you—this contradiction in him. He’s fearless, bold, and unapologetically driven… so why, with this, does he shrink away, like it’s something to be hidden or kept separate? You know it’s not shame.

The thought lingers, burning in your mind as you shift restlessly in bed. It gnaws at you—how easy it was for him to tell Emma she could be a hero with her deafness, while he himself clings to the idea that it would make him be seen as less. it doesn’t make sense! Not with someone like him. It’s not about what others think—it’s about what he thinks… and what he’s been telling himself.

You wake up the next morning with a start, blindly feeling around your bed for your phone and when you see the time your stomach drops—you’re late. So late. Of course, after all the tossing and turning you did last night, you didn’t double-check your alarms.

If you’re going to make it only five minutes late, you’ll have to skip breakfast. You throw on clothes, shove whatever else you can into your bag, and practically sprint out of your apartment. With any luck, no one will even notice your absence.

When you finally sneak your way into the office, it’s swarming with press. You make a beeline upstairs, dropping your things at your desk and scanning the chaos for someone who can explain what’s going on. Your confusion must be plastered on your face because a passing intern mumbles, “Last-minute press conference,” as they rush by.

You nod in understanding, silently cursing the timing. Of course today, when you look like you got ready in five minutes—because you did—is the day you’re interpreting on live television.

You barely have a second to process the chaos before someone’s calling your name, a frazzled assistant waving you over. “Y/n! We’re live in five!”

Perfect. Just what you needed. You rush to a mirror, smoothing down your hair and attempting to make yourself look somewhat presentable. There’s no fixing the bags under your eyes or the crease in your shirt, but you do your best.

By the time you make it downstairs to the press area, Katsuki’s already standing at the podium, arms crossed and his usual scowl plastered on his face. His sharp eyes flicker to you the moment you walk in, and you swear you see the faintest hint of amusement in them.

“’Bout time,” he mutters under his breath as you take your spot across from him, beside the speaker for the agency. You shoot him a glare and roll your eyes. You don’t even have time for some witty remark, you’re frantically trying to smooth down your shirt.

As the cameras start rolling and the reporters quiet down, you slip into work mode, your hands moving fluidly as you translate his speech. But in the back of your mind, you can’t stop thinking about how, even now, he’s managing to get under your skin. And, annoyingly, how much you don’t mind.

Your distraction is evident, the signs are messy and your brains all over the place, there’s a pause in dialogue as the audience is directed to view something on the screen and you take a breath, so frazzled you almost missed Bakugo trying to get your attention off camera

RELAX

he signs, his expression calm but firm, his sharp eyes meeting yours. You start to shake your head as if to say I can’t, I’ve barely had time to breathe and I look like I barely slept

And it’s like he reads your mind.

YOU, PRETTY.

you practically choke on air, as you watch him, You try to keep your composure because—oh, right—you’re still live. Your heartbeat quickens as his hands move one more time, his gaze steady.

ALWAYS.

He looks away with a smug expression his face unreadable to anyone else, but the moment feels unbearably intimate—more than you want it to be. His message is meant just for you, spoken in a language only the two of you in the room understand.

But you don’t have time to unpack that right now, you’re working. You take a breath, as much as his words stirred up the most confusing emotions they also comforted you, you’re fine. This is the job you love, the job you’re great at.

The press conference ends without any further hiccups, your hands moving fluidly through the signs as you finish the broadcast. You can feel Bakugo’s presence, and while you’d never admit it, the occasional glances he throws your way seem to steady you more than anything else.

As the room clears out and the camera lights dim, you exhale a sigh of relief, rubbing your temples. You don’t even notice Bakugo stepping closer until he’s right next to you, arms crossed, an unreadable look on his face.

“You good now?” he asks, his tone softer than you expected, though he still looks more smug than concerned.

“I’m fine,” you reply, a bit defensive, standing straighter. “It’s just… it’s been a morning.”

“Tch, no kidding,” he mutters before his eyes narrow slightly. “But you pulled it together.”

You glance at him, surprised by the unexpected compliment. “Thanks, I guess.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he signs, slow and deliberate, like he wants you to really pay attention.

YOU, STRONG. ALWAYS.

You feel your heart skip a beat, your mind replaying the earlier moment from the press conference. He doesn’t look away this time, holding your gaze like he’s daring you to argue.

And you want to. You want to tell him you don’t feel strong right now, that everything’s a mess, that he can’t just say things like that and expect you to be fine. But you can’t. The intensity in his eyes stops you.

Instead, you swallow thickly and sign back: THANK YOU.

He gives a small nod, satisfied, before turning and walking toward the door. Just before he leaves, he throws over his shoulder, “Don’t be late again.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself throwing you hands up to sign a quick, “Thanks for the pep talk, boss.”

You don’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking as he leaves.

And you hate the way that smirk affects you because you know he knows he’s pretty, and you know he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. It’s infuriating. That stupid, cocky grin lingers in your mind even after he’s gone, making your blood boil and your chest tighten all at once.

You slump back into your chair, running a hand down your face. It’s exhausting, being around him. Not just because of the work or the constant press conferences, but because he has this way of getting under your skin in ways you didn’t even think were possible.

It’s not fair. It’s him. Katsuki Bakugo. The man who scowls at everything, talks like every word is a challenge, and somehow still manages to have moments where he’s thoughtful, protective, and… sweet? Ugh. You hate it.

You hate how he’s in your head. But the worst part?

You’re starting to think he knows that, too.

—

A/n: yayy pt 2 finally! Part 3 coming soon (next few days!)

Tags: @poemeater @beebunsx @mimzyu @beabamboo

#shut up haley!#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #deaf bakugo #bakugou x reader

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