[220311] ATINY ZONE LOGO Only For ATINY (by ATEEZ)

[220311] ATINY ZONE LOGO only for ATINY (by ATEEZ)

K.SM. — THE SUBTLE ART OF LOVING YOU.

pairing. kim seungmin x gn reader

genre. fluff, best friends to lovers au, slight angst

warnings. food, mild cursing, reader is extremely tsundere lmao

summary. the 5 times seungmin tries and heroically fails to hold your hand and the one time he finally does. (or, seungmin's endeavors to overcome his innate dislike for initiating physical touch in a nutshell.)

length. oneshot

word count. 4.6k

[1.]

Kim Seungmin is very practiced when it comes to loving you in the dark. 

He knows you wouldn’t have it any other way. Both of you have grown familiar with your eccentric dynamic, this dynamic of feigned nonchalance and subtle gestures of quiet thoughtfulness. Seungmin would even go as far as to say that he enjoys it— enjoys leaving iced cups of taro bubble tea by your desk without as much as a note or buying a jumbo package of shin ramyun to drop off by the doorway of your apartment whenever he stops by the supermarket because he knows how much you adore ramen (although he personally can’t seem to understand the hype about it). 

The only problem is that it doesn’t leave much room for relationship growth. 

Because as much as he enjoys it all, there are times where he would very much like to wrap his arms around your waist in a backhug whenever you stop by his apartment to watch the latest episode of A Business Proposal with him on Netflix, or brush away a stray strand of hair that falls into your eyes whenever you drag him to the local cat café despite his protests that he gets cat hair stuck all over his sweater every time he goes. Except he can’t, because he just knows you’ll turn to stare at him, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, and ask him what he wants for him to act so nice. 

(He doesn’t really want anything. He just can’t express his undying love for you out loud and instead resorts to small gestures and little acts of service as an attempt to convey how much in love he is with you. It evidently doesn’t work, of course, but still.)

And then he’ll have to act nonchalant and make some joke about wanting you to buy him an iced americano at the newest café that recently opened up so that your dynamic will go back to being how it usually is and he’ll be stuck at square one yet again. 

If he were as naturally clingy as Hyunjin or Felix, he knows that it would be absolutely no problem initiating physical touch with you. Hyunjin is someone who inherently needs to be linking arms with someone at least once a day in order to function properly, and Felix simply just adores cuddling to an extent that it comes as naturally as breathing to him. But the problem is that he isn’t as clingy as Hyunjin or Felix, and initiating physical touch has never come easily to him. 

Despite all of this, his want to share physical contact with you refuses to go away. It doesn’t really have to be something big, he decides. Maybe just a brush of his hand against your waist whenever you push past him or the steady weight of his shoulder pressing into yours whenever you sit next to each other. Most of all, though, he really, really wants to hold your hand. 

It starts off as a small fantasy, just a casual observation to himself that went something along the lines of wow, holding your hand would be really nice, actually. But after a while, it grows into a bit of an obsession. 

What can he say? You have nice hands and he just really wants to feel the pressure of your fingers intertwined with his own. So it’s only natural that he finds himself attempting to muster up the courage to place his hand over yours as the two of you sit by the plush red chairs of the library, studying for the upcoming physics exam. 

You’re reading through the textbook, eyebrows furrowed as you skim over the pages and pages of complex formulas and diagrams. Your hand rests on the table, just a couple of inches away from his own. Seungmin stares at it through his wire-rimmed glasses and tries to convince himself that reaching out to hold your hand is not the big deal that he’s making it out to be. 

Of course, he doesn’t actually manage to convince himself, but he tries his best, anyway. Pressing his lips together in a firm line, he makes an effort to move his hand a bit closer to your own and ends up backpedaling at the last second. 

“Seungmin.”

Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts. Glancing up, he stares at you expectantly, a hand coming up to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed. “You look like you’re having an identity crisis or something.”

Seungmin quickly clears his throat, forcibly pushing any thoughts about holding your hand to the back of his mind as he nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

You snort. 

“Stop studying at 4 am on schoolnights, then. No wonder why you’re so exhausted all the damn time.”

“I’m just being a prestigious student,” he protests lightly, glaring at you. You roll your eyes but don’t make a move to oppose him, instead choosing to move your hand to flip to the next page of the textbook. 

Seungmin watches, aghast, as you place your hand in your lap after doing so— a good two feet away from his own hand. 

And just when he was about to find the guts to hold your hand. 

Gritting his teeth, he tells himself to pull it together. After all, the exam’s coming in just a few days and he has to stay focused and not think about how nice it would be to have your hand in your own. Even if the idea is very alluring. 

Even so, he finds himself thinking about intertwined hands for the rest of the study session. 

[2.]

Seungmin feels like crying. 

Your hand lies on the smooth surface of the breakfast table, quite literally a centimeter away from his own. If he moves his hand just slightly to the left, your hands will touch. 

Seungmin wants, wants it so bad he almost feels like stamping his feet like a fucking five-year old in frustration. 

But Jisung and Minho are sitting right across from you and he just knows that they’ll notice right away if he presses his hand against your own and he most definitely does not need them bursting into loud catcalls and whistles right in the middle of the breakfast. 

Instead, he watches as Jisung attempts to fit three fluffy pancakes from the college cafeteria into his mouth without choking. Minho watches on with mirth dancing in his eyes, even going so far as to shove the pancakes further down his throat in an attempt to make room for a fourth. Jisung gags around the pancakes, eyes watering, but shoots Minho a thumbs up, gesturing for him to try and add another pancake. 

Seungmin sips his glass of orange juice and watches in silent disapproval as Minho proceeds to spear another pancake onto his fork and press it into the stuffed cavern of Jisung’s mouth. He isn’t quite sure what led to this entire situation, and feels a vague sense of worry for Jisung, who looks as if he’s about to throw up. 

You stifle a peal of laughter as Minho attempts to push the pancakes even further into Jisung’s mouth. Seungmin gives your forearm a rebuking smack, glaring at you. You glare right back at him. 

“Why’d you hit me?”

“You shouldn’t encourage such behavior.”

You shrug. “Chan’s coming back in a few moments and he’ll make sure Jisung coughs up the pancakes right away. Might as well enjoy the sight while it lasts. Besides, Jisung can’t possibly fit another pancake—”

Jisung shoves a fifth pancake into his mouth. 

“Well,” you say, staring at Jisung with a mixture of glee and worry in your voice, “I’m sure Chan will be back very soon.”

Seungmin doesn’t bother replying, because he knows you’re right. If Chan had a role in the entire friend group, he’d probably be the dad. Slightly overprotective, prone to crack terrible jokes at any given moment, and perpetually exhausted. Chan fits the role quite well. 

Sure enough, Chan makes his appearance a few seconds later, his tray stacked with French toast and yogurt. He quickly makes Jisung swallow down the pancakes, scolding him for “almost killing himself” while Minho watches on in quiet amusement. 

Felix and Hyunjin arrive at the table a few minutes later, dragging along with them a half-asleep Jeongin. You frown. 

“Is Changbin not coming?”

“Changbin’s skipping class today,” Hyunjin says, “he’s still getting over his hangover.”

Minho scoffs. 

“Serves him right for drinking on a weekday.” 

Hyunjin shrugs and slips into the seat next to Minho, tugging Jeongin along with him, who promptly lays his cheek against the breakfast table and falls asleep again. 

“Must have had a tough night,” you say, glancing over Jeongin’s sleeping form. 

Felix nods. 

“He was up all night trying to figure out derivatives. He was almost in tears.” 

You nod sympathetically, leaning forward to reach across the table and brush his bangs away from his forehead, revealing the dark circles underneath his eyes. 

Seungmin watches in silence and wonders if he will ever experience such tenderness from you. After all, it is one thing to want, and another to have. 

[3.]

Seungmin enjoys spending his weekends in the comfort of his own apartment. The weekdays are hectic enough with all his college duties and whatnot and he enjoys having Saturday and Sunday completely to himself, spending hours lounging on the couch while scrolling through his phone and ordering takeout. 

In fact, he is just about to settle down into his bed and spend the next four hours binge watching a recent k-drama that he’s been into when you burst into his apartment. 

Seungmin jumps at the sound of his door slamming open, although the sound of your voice is enough to reassure him that it’s only you and not some psychopathic murderer who somehow managed to break into his apartment. 

“Yah, Kim Seungmin.”

He looks up to see you standing by the doorway of his bedroom, arms folded across your chest. Seungmin looks up at you from his phone and sighs. “I really shouldn’t have given you my spare house key.”

You brush away his comment dismissively, coming forward to tug him out of bed. “Whatever. Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“Where are you dragging me this time?”

“The Seoul Lantern Festival,” you say, “I’ve been wanting to see it recently but I haven’t found the time.”

“Can we go see it some other time? I kind of don’t want to get out of bed.”

You thrust a coat into his arms as you attempt to drag him to the doorway of his apartment. “That’s too bad. We’re going anyway.”

Seungmin curses under his breath, frowning, but pulls on his sneakers anyways after you tug him to the doorway and wait expectantly. You watch complacently as he ties his shoelaces and grin down at him when he glances up to glare at you, your smile dripping with faux sweetness. 

“You’re the best, Seungminnie.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

Humming, you reach out a hand to pull him up by the wrist. For a long moment, Seungmin thinks that you’re about to lace your fingers with his own to pull him along and stares, breathless, at your fingers wrapped around his wrist. But then you quickly let go after pulling him into a standing position and stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to step out of the apartment. 

Seungmin swallows down the bitter bile of disappointment that forces its way up his throat. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected anything more. You skip along next to him as the two of you make your way down the staircase of the complex. Seungmin allows himself a small glance at you in his peripheral vision, taking in your flushed cheeks and windblown hair. You are so carelessly beautiful that he cannot help but ache whenever he sets his eyes on you.

But then you turn to look at him and Seungmin quickly glances away, feigning nonchalance. 

“Why didn’t you ask Chan or something? You know I hate going out on weekends.”

“Chan’s been working on his track,” you shrug. “I didn’t want to bother him.”

“What about Minho?”

You stare at him. 

“Minho would have kicked me out of his apartment before I had even finished asking him to come.”

Fair enough. Minho hates going out on weekends even more than Seungmin does. 

“Okay, well, what about Hyunjin? You know he adores going out, especially with friends.”

You let out a huff of frustration, eyebrows furrowed irritably. “Hyunjin’s probably busy or something,” you say, waving your hand dismissively, “so I had no choice but to ask you.”

Even so, your ears color bright red as you trot along briskly, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Seungmin grins. 

“So you actually wanted to see the festival with me? That’s so—” 

You quickly shut him up by slugging him hard on his arm while glaring at him menacingly. “I’ll murder you in your sleep if you even think about finishing that sentence.”

Groaning, he clutches at his arm and meekly shuts up. 

By the time you’ve reached the festival, it’s already late. They chose to hold the festival by the bridge this year, lighting up the water of the canal with a thousand different lanterns in a multitude of shapes and colors. And even if he’d much rather be lounging on the couch of his apartment right now, Seungmin has to admit that the view is stunning. You stand by the edge of the water and watch as the lanterns float past, breathless and panting as your eyes slide over the brilliant glow. 

You are busy snapping a picture of a cat lantern when Seungmin comes to stand by you. Your hands just slightly graze each other, and Seungmin can just feel the cool press of your skin against his own. If he just moves his hand a little, he’ll be able to interlock your fingers and—

You take your hand away to brush a strand of hair away from your face. 

Fuck. 

Seungmin spends the rest of the festival thinking about what things could have been if that goddamn strand of hair had not ruined everything. 

[4.]

“The problem is that you’re too hesitant,” Jisung informs Seungmin through a thick bite of brownie. 

Seungmin groans, threading his fingers through his hair. “I know I’m too hesitant! That’s the entire problem! I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Jisung nods sympathetically as he listens, taking another thoughtful bite of brownie. Seungmin never thought he’d ever find himself coming to Jisung out of all people for counseling, but here he is, anyway. 

“You just have to do it. Like, don’t even think about it. Just grab their hand.”

Actually, Seungmin doesn’t understand why he chose to ask Jisung for advice in the first place, considering the fact that his relationships rarely last for any longer than a month. Given his easy-going personality and attractive visuals, it’s not as if Jisung doesn’t have an unending list of admirers. But someone like Jisung has always been too busy to date, and his relationships almost always end in messy breakups due to lack of quality time. 

Then again, Seungmin is desperate.

“So I just.. go for it? Like just reach out and hold their hand?” 

Jisung nods earnestly. 

“Yup. Just like that.”

Doubt curls through Seungmin’s chest as he considers Jisung skeptically. “That genuinely sounds like the worst plan I’ve—” 

Jisung shuts him up with a dismissive snort. 

“Just try it,” he implores, “it’ll be fine.”

Seungmin still thinks that the entire idea is terribly impulsive and very much likely to lead into a catastrophe. But Jisung looks at him with such conviction in his eyes that Seungmin finds himself agreeing to give the plan a try, although he threatens to never buy him cheesecake again if the plan fails. 

He meets up with you the next day at your apartment because you insisted on rewatching Vincenzo with him. Jisung tags along just to supervise and make sure that Seungmin finally manages to succeed in holding your hand and brings Chan along with him because he refuses to “be the third-wheel.” Seungmin argues that it’s kind of impossible to be the third-wheel when it’s you and him, especially since you interact with him solely through threats and menacing gazes, but Jisung insists on coming along anyway. 

By the time the fourth episode starts playing, Jisung has started to pester Seungmin incessantly, tapping at his shoulder and nodding towards you, gesturing wildly (but as subtly as possible) for Seungmin to attempt to hold your hand. Seungmin eventually gives in after Jisung starts full-on smacking him on the arm, sighing and motioning for Jisung to settle down. 

Taking a deep breath, he inhales deeply and reaches across your lap to grab your hand. He doesn’t even bother looking sideways, too nervous to manage to meet your eyes. There’s a bead of sweat gathering by his temple as he gropes blindly, searching for your hand. 

Instead, his hand grabs something firm and slightly fleshy. 

There is a long silence as Seungmin slowly turns his head to see his arm, stretched across your lap, and his hand, firmly grasping Chan’s thigh, missing your hand by a good six inches. Chan lets out a surprised gulp as he stares down at Seungmin’s hand, turning to glance at Seungmin questioningly. 

Jisung facepalms so loudly that the sound of his palm smacking against his forehead resonates through the room. 

Seungmin blushes furiously and quickly withdraws his hand, mumbling a hasty apology. Chan brushes off his apology good-naturedly, although his ears are colored red. You stare at him confusedly as he hurriedly retracts his hand, perplexity written across your face. 

Fucking Han Jisung and his stupid fucking ideas, Seungmin thinks, pointedly turning to glare at Jisung accusingly. Jisung ignores his ominous gaze as he obstinately stares at the screen of the TV and plays with the rings on his fingers. 

There is something like suppressed laughter on his face, and Seungmin officially decides to never get Han fucking Jisung another white chocolate raspberry cheesecake ever again, no matter how desperately he begs. 

[5.]

“Yah, Kim Seungmin,” you say, your voice grainy through the phone. “You still haven’t eaten lunch yet? Idiot. It’s already 4 pm. Come over, I’ll cook something for you.” 

“Okay,” Seungmin whispers, and smiles to himself. 

God, he likes you so, so much. 

When he arrives at your apartment, you’re leaning over the stovetop, an apron tied around your waist. He comes to stand next to you, observing the chicken soup that you’re stirring over a low heat. You don’t look up from the soup as you gesture towards the dishwasher. 

“Go get some bowls. The soup’s almost ready.” 

Seungmin obediently makes his way to the dishwasher, grabbing two porcelain bowls and placing them next to you on the countertop. “You didn’t have to go out of your way to cook me soup, you know.”

You let out an indignant scoff. 

“Bold of you assume that I cooked the soup for you.” 

Seungmin gives a soft chuckle. When he has spent so much time around you, it is easy to see right through you. Even so, he doesn’t say anything. 

You spoon the fragrant broth of the soup into the bowls and carry them to the dining table, gesturing for Seungmin to sit down. You drink your soup in silence, giving an approving nod at the rich, saltiness of the broth. Seungmin watches you quietly, longing ripping at his throat. 

Your hand is placed right in between the two of you— it comes so naturally to Seungmin that it almost feels surreal. 

You watch, silent, as he gently reaches up to run his fingertip along the inside of your forearm, slowly making his way up to your wrist. Your skin is smooth and warm underneath his touch— he can feel your pulse beating wildly underneath the thin skin of the inside of your wrist. For a long moment, the two of you sit in silence, eyes trained to the fingertip he drags across the back of your hand. 

And yet, just as he’s about to wrap his fingers around your hand, you quickly yank your hand away, ears red. Seungmin stares at you questioningly as you lift your hand to place it into your lap, bending down to sip at your soup. 

There is a light dusting of pink across your cheeks and a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead. You seem adamant to ignore his gaze as you stare down at your bowl of soup. 

Seungmin has always hated making assumptions. But he can’t help but wonder if you want him just as much as he wants you. 

[+1]

It is exhausting to be in love with someone like you. 

Seungmin knows it. He knows it too well. 

You are so full of contradictions that Seungmin never truly knows what you want. It is hard to love someone who pushes you away even as they draw you in closer, who is so brittle at the edges, and yet so soft underneath. 

But then you will tell him to dress warmer unless he wants to catch a cold, in that nonchalant voice of yours. You’ll tell him to stop skipping his meals, the warmth of your words buried underneath your careless facade. You’ll slip into his bedroom and place a mug of green tea by his desk whenever he’s studying himself sick, silent as you set it down next to him. And Seungmin will remember, yet again, why he fell for you in the first place. 

You text him a few days later, telling him to come over for a study session after you’ve finished with class. He agrees promptly, partially because he could never resist when it comes to you, and partially because he really needs to figure out chemical entropy and thinks that a study session would be quite beneficial. 

When he arrives at your apartment, your bedroom door is sealed tightly shut and you are nowhere to be found. 

Seungmin slowly makes his way to the bedroom doorway and knocks apprehensively, hesitant. 

“Go away,” you say, voice muffled. 

Seungmin opens the door anyway. 

He is greeted by the sight of a lump on your bed. It squirms a little when he comes in, indignant. “Seungmin, I told you to—” 

Seungmin sits by the side of your bed and tugs at the blankets cocooned around your body. You clutch tightly at the sheets, refusing to let him unravel the thick swaddle of blankets. Seungmin lets out a tired sigh. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say. You are uncharacteristically quiet after that. 

Seungmin finally succeeds in yanking the sheets out of your fists and you tumble out of the swathe of blankets, sprawling onto the bed. Seungmin’s breath catches in his throat as your eyes meet his own. 

They are red-rimmed and brimming. Just a brief second of eye contact causes the tears to spill over, leaving warm salty streaks across your cheeks. 

Seungmin stares at you blankly as you cry and wonders what the fuck he should do. After all, he has seen you do a lot of things, but crying is not one of them. 

He’s never seen you like this, curled up on the bed sheets, eyes glazed and glassy, impossibly fragile as the tears trail down your cheeks. For someone so brittle, you fall apart so easily underneath his gaze. 

Very slowly, he sits down by your bedside. “What happened? Did someone say something?”

You don’t say anything. 

So Seungmin takes your hand in his own and guides you to him, wrapping his arms around your torso. You bury your face into his shoulder, clutching tightly at the hem of his t-shirt and—

Oh, this is quite nice, actually. 

You’re curled up against him, tears seeping into the cloth of his shirt. And Seungmin has never been this close to you, doesn’t know how exactly to act when you’re pressed up to him like this, trembling in his arms. But he presses you closer, anyways, and allows you to soak his shirt, even though it’s a relatively new shirt and he hates to see it ruined and the wetness of your tears are kind of uncomfortable as they stick to his skin. 

He holds you like this for a long time, until the tears finally subside. 

“Now can you tell me what happened?”

You shift against him, turning your head to press your cheek into his chest. “I just had a really bad day.” 

Seungmin reaches up a gentle hand to smooth over your ruffled hair. He almost feels compelled to tease you, just because it’s what’s typically expected of him in your push-and-pull relationship. But instead, he nods and pulls you closer. “That happens sometimes.” 

You exhale in agreement. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” 

Your hands are still laced together, Seungmin realizes. He almost wishes your head wasn’t pillowed on his chest right now, because he feels for sure that you can hear his racing heartbeat pulsing underneath his skin. There is a moment of silence as you press against him, squeezing his hand, before you tilt your head up to gaze at him. 

Seungmin’s cheeks flush red as you study him slowly, eyes sliding over his face. And then you’re leaning over, lips brushing across his collarbone. Seungmin’s thoughts are painted white as your free hand comes up to cup his jaw, pressing closer to graze your lips against the column of his throat, against the line of his jaw, the ridge of his cheekbone. 

A long pause, a heavy tension settling in the atmosphere of the room. And then you’re kissing. 

He isn’t sure how it happens. He isn’t sure he exactly cares. Your hands are still pressed together as you press forward to kiss him harder, lips moving against his own. You are so gentle in his arms, so yielding compared to your usual demeanor of fire and steel, that Seungmin regrets not doing this a long time ago. 

You lean back after a bit, eyes hazy as you gaze at him. Seungmin allows a moment of silence before clearing his throat to speak. 

“I can’t believe you just made out with the same guy you call an idiot at least five times a day.” 

You grin. “It’s all part of my calculated plan to get you to fall head over heels for me.” 

Seungmin thinks that he would have fallen head over heels for you either way. He doesn’t tell you, of course (he has much more sense than that) but he allows himself to think it. 

He leans forward, eyes curious as he gazes at you. “How long have you liked me for?” 

You narrow your eyes. “And why does it matter?” 

Seungmin rolls his eyes. 

“I just wanted to know,” he protests, and pokes at your thigh. “So? For how long?” 

“I don’t know,” you say, feigning nonchalance, although your red ears betray you right away. “Three years by now? It’s not like I’ve been counting.” 

(Knowing you, you most definitely have been counting.) 

“I’m kind of wounded that it took you three years to finally decide to kiss me.”

You snort. 

“I only kissed you because you were too much of a coward to do it yourself, you know.”

“Still!” Seungmin protests, “it’s hurtful to think about.”

You laugh, leaning forward to grab his hand and yank him to you. “Come here, then. I’ll kiss it better.” 

Seungmin doesn’t have to be told twice. 

go figure! － park sunghoon.

SYNOPSIS being a popular actress, it’s common for you to be invited to reality shows. but when your company agrees for you to join a reality show where you’ll have to live with another celebrity and spend the majority of your time with them for a month, you get paired up with the person you least expect to be partnered with. your partner just so happens to be park sunghoon, olympic figure skater - and also, your celebrity crush.

PAIRING figure skater! sunghoon x actress! fem! reader

GENREfluff, crack, slight angst (?), kinda mutual pining, somewhat similar to the show ‘we got married’

WARNINGS swearing, ignore timestamps, y/nhoon are Idiots In Love, pictures of kim minju will be used to visualise concepts / outfits of y/n

FEATURING enhypen, cha junhwan, you young, sieun and sumin from stayc, jinni and haewon from nmixx, yangyang from wayv / nct, xiaoting from kep1er and yuqi from g-idle 

STATUS ongoing

AUTHOR’S NOTE wooooo new smau!!!! and it’s about figure skating !!! the other thing that i never shut up about !!!!! also this my first smau for hoon !!! < 3 as always, permanent taglist is already tagged !! ill be starting this after i return from camp and im posting this pretty early soo .. please dont forget about me LMAOOO T_T if you send an ask to be added to the taglist while i’m away, i’ll get back to u RIGHT away when i return !!!

TAGLIST CLOSED

PROFILES: simp nation / sk8terz

PROLOGUE － soohorang enthusiast ONE － quad sal antis TWO － #BookedAndBusy THREE － i’m partnered with… who?? FOUR － explains the drip FIVE － kay em ess SIX － i have a confession SEVEN － cameras rolling EIGHT －passed out (real) NINE － change ur wallpaper TEN － bonk on da head ELEVEN － my new best friend TWELVE － quality time THIRTEEN － ramyeon 4 life FOURTEEN － working hard FIFTEEN －looking right cuz u left me SIXTEEN － this is 4 u  SEVENTEEN － my own two eyes!!!! EIGHTEEN － me (an empath)

richboy!seonghwa masterlist

you’re the new girl at a prestegious school who quickly finds herself in a love triangle with the two most eligible rich boys: park seonghwa, the boy who proves himself to be the closest thing to perfect and kang yeosang, harsh bully turned love interest two. it’s an internal struggle for everyone involved, kisses behind closed doors, exposed secrets and tattered friendships, a case of choosing between something safe and easy or full of passion and intensity.

“okay but a safe gentleman is better than some brooding asshole you always fight with.”

“that is romanticism, you fool! passion and fighting and making up.”

❥ part 1

❥ part 2

❥ part 3

❥ part 4

❥ part 5

❥ part 6

❥ part 7

❥ part 8

❥ part 9

❥ part 10

❥ part 11

❥ part 12

❥ part 13

❥ part 14

❥ part 15

❥ part 16

❥ part 17

❥ part 18

❥ part 19

❥ part 20

❥ part 21

❥ part 22

❥ part 23

❥ part 24

❥ part 25

❥ part 26

❥ part 27

❥ part 28

❥ part 29

❥ part 30

status: complete

❥ bonus: richboy!mingi miniseries (coming soon)

❥ bonus: richboy!yeosang miniseries (complete)

hi sunnii

i’m so sorry for this

but

i believe ur boyfriend is a fraud and is actually 4’9. im so sorry.

i love all 4'9 of him alright 🤨 i can rest my chin on the top of his head <3

ENCHANTED.

pairing : jake sim x reader.

word count : 1265

# college au, frat boy! jake, kissing, parties, no other warnings apply!

The music is loud, and you’d worry these frat kids are going to get a noise complaint if you didn’t know how parties like this one work around campus. The foreign letter you can’t read hangs from the door, made out of metal and telling everyone that walks by that this is ENHA’s frat house — whatever that means.

From it hangs a paper, and it reads ‘DON’T PET THE DOG’ in Comic Sans, which makes you giggle. Yuna rolls her eyes, pushing the door open and dragging you inside; the music feels ten times louder without the walls and the wooden door between you and the speakers, and you can feel — and see — your best friend’s eyes scanning the crowd already.

Why you were even dragged to this party, you’re not sure. Regardless, you put on your pretty little outfit and did your makeup — and here you are, watching as everyone gets lost to the music and a bright smile takes over Yuna’s face. You know you’ll get left alone as soon as Chaeryoung spots your best friend; you can’t keep those two apart, and you’re not in the mood to third wheel at all.

“Yuna!” Chaeryoung’s soft-edged voice pushes through the music. “Oh, I’m so glad you came! I’ve been wanting to see you all week.”

Yuna smiles, and if it weren’t for the blush you’d neatly applied on her cheeks, her cheeks would give her away with the way they turn pink all the way to the tip of her ears. “I’m so glad, too!”

The girls smile at each other — that dazed smile that you know won’t leave their faces all night, and you can’t help but say yes when Chaeryoung asks if she can steal Yuna for a bit. Your best friend promises she’ll be back, but you know her better than that. Instead, you let the two go and head to the kitchen for a drink.

It’s crowded, and it’s a little hard to weave through the dozens of people crammed in this single frat house, but you make it to the kitchen without a scratch and a thirst for a Diet Coke. Grabbing the can from the big, ice-full bowl on the table, you start wandering around the place, hoping to run into someone you know to at least kill some time.

You don’t, so back to the kitchen it is.

The kitchen is empty this time around, and there’s a dog laying on the cool tile floor. You want to reach out and pet it, but you remember the sign outside and take your hand back. The dog follows you with its eyes, though, as you climb up and sit on the counter.

“Are you lost?” A voice makes you look up and away from the puppy, and you furrow your brows. “I mean, I couldn’t help but see you walking around in circles for almost twenty minutes. Looking for someone?”

“Oh, uh,” you stumble over your words. In front of him is the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen, and he looks at you with big brown eyes that have you with wobbly knees. “I kinda came with a friend, but she left to go kiss her not-girlfriend girlfriend, so I’ve been killing time.”

The boy nods. “I just —” he laughs, as if he were embarrassed — “It’s hard to not notice a pretty girl on her own. I was hoping you didn’t have anyone waiting for you, as selfish as that is.”

Your cheeks warm up, and you know you’re blushing like a fool. Still, there’s a bit of courage left in you before you completely melt under this boy’s sugar-sweet glance, so you reply: “Nobody I’d rather be with, at least.”

“Is that so?” He laughs. “I’m Jake.”

“(Name),” you tell him, turning to mush under his bright smile.

He says something, but you can’t hear him over someone opening the kitchen door and letting the music bleed into the room. It’s so loud, it feels as though you’ll keep hearing it tomorrow. You lean forward.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Jake gets closer, repeating what he said. Again, it’s not loud enough to be heard over the old Shinee song drowning the house. You motion him closer.

He stands between your legs, suddenly. So close that you’re sure you’ll burst, and he leans to say it into your ear. The blush that takes over your entire body is uncontrollable and embarrassing, but you smile at his words all the same.

“I said: a pretty name for the prettiest girl I’ve seen.”

With your smile locked into place, and Jake’s eyes back to yours, you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “You keep calling me pretty.”

Jake chuckles, breath fawning your face. It’s taking all your willpower to not grab his jacket and kiss him senseless right there. Come on, you just met the guy.

“Maybe you should take it as a fact, then.” He takes your hand, and he keeps acting bolder than anyone’s ever acted with you, and it feels so lovely to feel admired at all. Then, Jake looks straight into your eyes. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Maybe you should,” you breathe out.

Making out at parties isn’t new stuff, but for some reason your heart beats faster than it should as Jake starts leaning in. Closer, and closer, and closer — and his lips are on yours like they were made to be connected at some point in life.

You bring him closer, and he grabs your cheek with one of his hands. Your own hands meet behind his head, tugging at his hair as your lips continue their rhythm with a sweetness you should have expected yet blows you away still.

At the tug of hair, Jake presses closer and lets out a sound that has you melting on the spot. This boy is perfect, you think to yourself.

Jake pulls away for a second, and as soon as your lungs are filled with air once again he’s back to kissing you stupid. He doesn’t miss the chance to mumble words that you think you’ll remember forever: “Gosh, you’re perfect.”

You don’t hear Yuna until the door opens and she’s tearing you and Jake apart — not literally, but she lets out a gasp that has you two jumping away from each other. You must look like a mess.

“Uhm, Ryujin called,” Yuna states, dumbfounded. You want to scream, but you simply give Jake a glance, and your hand joins his at your waist when he lays it there.

“About what?”

Yuna shrugs, still stealing glances at Jake that aren’t subtle at all. “Dunno, just said she needs our help, like, right now.”

“Oh,” you reply. Jake’s calming circle-motion rubs on your waist are enough to keep you both grounded and on the edge of flying away. “Alright.”

“She’ll be with you in a second,” Jake replies for you, more eloquently. You can tell Yuna almost squeaks, because she jumps and nods, rushing out of the kitchen with speed you’d never seen from her.

You’re about to question Jake, but he beats you to speak: “Before you leave, can I have your number?”

You nod, smiling as he hands you his phone. You wonder if putting an emoji next to your name is too much, and then you decide for a healthy middle between an emoji and nothing at all, and type a cheesy <3 after your name.

Jake promises he’ll text, and he lets you go with a pout. You kiss it away, quickly. It turns into a radiant smile.

perm taglist : @jungwonize @acciomylove @bambisgirl @fleurated @1-800-lixie @wccycc @enhacolor