Keen For This One!

keen for this one! ⛹🏻‍♂️✨🏹

"i think we all know exactly what you feel for me, " "disdain?"

@ cupidshootstokill! pretty boy point guard huang guanheng is far from a hopeless romantic. or so he thinks until he's struck by cupid's arrow (literally and metaphorically) for the ace archer of NCIT : you. the only problem is that his newfound cupid seems to be shooting to kill.

@ information [🏹] basketball player! huang guanheng & archer! afab! reader genre fluff, comedy, smau, uni au, desperate pining man vs basketball hater girl to lovers, hendery is down embarrassingly bad and yn wants absolutely nothing to do with it warnings cursing, dark humor (kys jokes), sexual humor / innuedos status ongoing! publishes every monday & thursday @ 9AM ⤷ taglist always open!

@ masterlist @ ♡♡♡♡ @ soundtrack

follow others like this! playlists. yn ➵ hendery roosters. ncit archery ➵ ncit basketball

user cupidshootstokill's posts C00. prologue C01. shot through the heart (literally!) C02. love at first fight C03. coming soon!

🧾 © 00127am 2024

THE FACE REVEAL 😆 (ongoing smau - author updated 05.03.24)

wrong number | sunghoon

fourteen: what if i just manifested a girlfriend

summary: when a barista of the cafe sunghoon frequents gives him her phone number, he decides to try his luck and texts her. problem is, it seems as though he’s got it all wrong and texts you instead.

notes: hello tiny ppl in my phone!

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add yourself to my taglist !!

series masterlist

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taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @baevsxii @lillotus17 @syzavxy @mrmld @nikilvrfvr @luvyev @notevenheretbh1 @wvnkoi @seungiesgf @kgneptun @judeduartewannabe @iheartjayke @wonsbubble @ilyjxdz @foggysfrog @oddracha @haechansbbg @tobiosbbyghorl @ryunjin0 @sharksandminhos @jungwoneez @alex-is-sleeping @minjaexvz @woninluv @hoondiors @seunnimg @erehkinnie30 @junsflow @jeongintwt @fantastichoagieuniversityhairdo @h4918ymc @justletmereadokay @makiswrld @who-tf-soddhi @en-dream @strawberrysavi @cloudyseokjinx @winuvs @2interrwonw @222.palesa @bubblytaetae @ariadores @shu-aa @Enhypensbestie @hyunjisungct @nxzz-skz @thea-herondale @eclipse-777 @kwiwin @nottkwiwin @n-eetune @jwnghyuns @soobs-things @sunghoonnsupremacy @​​eyyylesgewcleuwwt @tinie03 @spookyrule @mamuljji.

sorry to everyone tumblr couldn't tag!

this headcanon is giving, “with her mocha eyes, i get butterflies, she’s brewing in my mind”

🎧 song: Coffee Eyes –Finding Hope

₊˚⊹☆ CiTRiNE KiSSES .ᐟ . . .ㅤ﹫ wayv headcanon ✮⋆˙

wayv & types of mundane love ꒰ 🍊 ꒱ wayv & gn! reader genre headcanon, fluff, 6 different scenarios, lowercase intended warnings cursing wc 3.4k

kun 錕

qian kun is a class crush. the one who sits on the opposite side of the lecture hall, the one who you only ever see the side profile of (much to your chagrin). the one who has your complete and utter attention and who you hold responsible for your last poor test grade. i mean, come on, what were you supposed to do when he showed up looking like he just scrambled out of bed? dressed in sweats, some ratty band tee shirt that looked much too small for him, and hair sticking out from every angle. it's like his only and main purpose in your life is to serve as a distraction, bedhead or not. you’ve never spoken to him, assigned seats forcing you apart. you say it’s like romeo and juliet, though your friends vehemently disagree. you’re not quite sure you could talk to kun, regardless of the distance. he’s top of the class, always with something smart to say. always knowing the answers, always scoring the best amongst your peers. he’s kind, and dependable, and smart, and completely out of your league. or so you assume. despite your prayers to some higher power about the professor assigning you both to the same group project, you seem to be down on your luck when it comes to running into him. it isn’t all bad admiring him from afar. because from your vantage point, you can stare at him all you like with a view utterly unobstructed. his glasses are sliding down the bridge of his nose, eyes pulled into squint of concentration as his finger traces over the words on his notes. his tongue is poking out from pink lips, caught in between his teeth as he flips a page. platinum blonde hair with black roots, swooped away from the center of his forehead with an effortless touch, lights of the classroom bringing a thoughtful gleam to the small, silver hoop earrings which adorn his ears. he raises his hand, held at attention and lifted with such elegance that you would swear it was intentional. well, you would if you weren’t already aware of the uncomplicated perfection of being one qian kun. he asks what you assume to be an intelligent and thoughtful question to the professor before replying with a thanks, the slightest bow of his head, and that pretty grin that makes you feel like you’ve got a concussion. maybe you do have a concussion. but then as if directed by some higher power, he looks in your direction. if you weren’t so flustered about him catching your yearning staring (completed with your tilted head resting upon your hands and the occasional pining sigh), you might have been elated at the fact that you’re finally seeing him head on. his eyebrows dart upwards in surprise, lips parted into a small o as he blinks slowly at you. as if he’s surprised that you’re shooting him that infatuated look, completely ignorant of his own flawlessness. forget everything you said about a concussion. it’s one hundred percent the aftereffects of looking at him.

ten ลี้ชัยพรกุล

chittaphon leechaiyapornkul is someone you fall in love with when he passes you on the street. it’s always a blur of a moment, a second in time that has your breath catching in the back of your throat and your heart thumping out of your chest. for in the longevity of life, this moment, in which you see him is the only moment which truly seems to matter. this splinter of a second in which your worlds collide and your stomach plummets to your knees. if you knew what real love felt like, you would assume it’s like this. complete and utter infatuation with a stranger who you could barely get a good look at. just long blonde hair, upturned at the ends, and the corner of grin that has you kicking yourself for not seeing the full of his face. you decide, then in this less important moment, that if you see him again then perhaps it’s fate. and as the romans said: amor fati, quite literally, love fate because as all luck would have it… there he is. standing across from you at the crosswalk, bobbing his head back and forth to the music playing from his headphones. a headset which lays dutifully upon his head like a crown, smushing strands of blonde bangs onto his forehead. his head is tilted downwards (much to your disappointment) as his fingers skim the screen of his phone, lingering for a moment with each tap. he’s well dressed, fashion style unique and perfectly catered to him. you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen someone so wholly themselves. nor someone as beautiful and you find yourself wondering why the hell everyone isn’t staring right at him. while the entire crowd of commuters and tourists and whatnot aren't falling to their knees and worshiping the blonde haired man in front of you. you certainly would. might. will. because he looks up from the screen, slim eyes adorned with winged liner, glitter smudged on his lids and with those ever-so-pretty eyes, he bats them at you ever-so-elegantly, and you’re all but gone. all of his features are thinly framed from the sleek bridge of his nose to his painted pink lips that curve into a grin that you fear may split his face straight into two. beauty marks littered like kisses to his complexion, shadowed by the length of his bangs and the playful sway of his head. small hoops decorating his ears, matching the thin necklace which hangs loosely around his neck. it hangs heavy against defined collarbones and falls beneath the slope of his shirt. he’s so pretty, so much so that you fear you may wear out the word. but before you have the chance to conjure a new one (enchanting? handsome? gorgeous?) the crosswalk indicator strikes green and the crowds flock to the striped street without a clue of the angelic (stunning? lovely?) stranger amongst them. you’re not sure how they could walk by him so utterly ignorant of his presence because frankly it’s taking everything within you not to start squealing like a schoolgirl with a crush. or get on one knee and propose though you doubt that would accomplish anything in your favor. and then he walks straight past you and you’re left craning your head to catch another glimpse of him. standing in the middle of the street with the crowd bustling past you, knocking into your shoulder and telling you to walk, you can only focus on him.

winwin 思成

dong sicheng is an airport crush. the kind that makes you feel suddenly hyper aware of what you’re wearing. the kind that makes you open the camera app on your phone only to gasp in horror when you catch a sight of your reflection. the kind that has you fixing your appearance to any such semblance of “put-together” before your five in the morning flight. because he is so utterly composed, so utterly mesmerizing that he has you scrambling to fix your hair. or your face. or your clothing because like any rational human being about to board a five in the morning flight, you’re in something very akin to pajamas. a decision you are very much regretting at the moment. and of course he’s at your gate. which means he’s probably on your flight. that he might be sitting in the seat next to you. a thought that gives you butterflies. though you can’t place if they’re from a budding crush or nervousness. a combination perhaps? you do your best to sit some rows away from him, deciding it would be best to face him. if you hadn’t then you would be craning your neck to take a look and you certainly have doubts about the inconspicuous nature of that action. not that you facing him is a much better alternative. you’ve been “reading” the same page in your book for the last fifteen minutes. eyes sliding up beyond the printed words to study the stranger. he’s sitting just two or three rows away, one leg crossed over the other as he reclines in his chair. he has coffee in one hand and a novel in the other, lips pursed in concentration as dark, cat-like eyes sift over the pages. slender fingers flip absentmindedly, black lashes fawning his cheeks in long, sleepily sluggish blinks. he stifles a yawn, back of his hand raised to cover the full of his lips and the crinkle of his eyes. dark eyebrows furrow down upon the bridge of his nose, which moves but half an inch higher. black hair is fanned across his forehead, long enough to dig at the corners of his eyes, a sensation which he pushes off with the unconscious pass of his hand. and then it’s dropped again and you can once more enjoy the full, uninterrupted beauty of his fair complexion. a countenance that nearly seems to be painted. barely saturated hues are drawn upon his cheeks, freckles noted with fine dark specks that dance across his face. a face which is puffy from just waking up and eyelids swollen in a desperate attempt to be closed once more. he’s an unprecedented type of pretty. one which takes no effort to cultivate nor maintain. one that makes your head spin to the extent that you consider digging around for a barf bag when you board. well, if he wasn’t your seat partner that is. he’s the worst type of crush. one that you know you’ll never see again. and one that you know you won’t approach, certainly not with the current state of your appearance. and one who you doubt would approach you, not with the way his attention is buried in his book. a thought which pulls a drowsy huff from yourself, relinquishing yourself back to your own novel with a tsk of your tongue. you didn’t make it past page three.

xiaojun 德俊

xiao dejun is a convience store crush. the type that you find yourself running into (quite literally) in between the aisles in the middle of the night in a corner store which you’re always forgetting the name of. the kind that has you fumbling with the apology that rests upon the tip of your tongue, unable to spit it out for all intents and purposes. mainly because he renders you speechless but partially because the way you slammed into him knocked all the breath out of your lungs. and now you’re finding it hard to catch that breath with the way he’s staring back at you. blinking and batting long lashes against his cheeks as he watches you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. and then he’s apologizing and you’re waving him off and you find yourselves in separate aisles as you hold two fingers to your pulse point. you might be having a heart attack. or a stroke. or sudden death from running into the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life. a man who is just two shelves away, digging around the ramen section for something you assume to be specific. his long black and blonde hair drifts across his shoulder blade as he hunches down, tank top suddenly looking much too tight for the expanse of his back. you decide that it’s one hundred percent sudden death. a sudden death you cut short that night only to re-experience the next time you stop into the convenience store. you certainly hadn’t forgotten about him (neither could your friends after all your time spent gushing over the stranger) but you certainly weren’t expecting to see him again either. a pleasant surprise. one that you can indulge in, since this time around, you didn’t smack into him. nor were you wearing the bright pink hello kitty pajamas that you previously adorned. and you’re fairly certain that you would be able to muster more than one or two words this time. maybe not. not with the way his hair is brushed back away from his forehead, a few strands here and there falling out of line to the curves of his face. his heavy brows draw your attention to the dark accents of his eyes, smudge of eyeshadow hidden beneath his lower lashes. then to the slope of his nose and the prominent cupid bow that rests upon puffy lips, the bottom of which is sucked in between perfect teeth. he has to be a model. or an idol. or an angel. because you’re not sure that a man as pretty as him could be doing anything else. the idea of him working a nine to five office job in some off corner cubicle and bland suit and tie (which he would no doubt make you think is anything but bland) makes you stifle the bubble of laughter about to escape from your lips, clearing your throat and redirecting your gaze. perhaps you might run into him more often? that is a thought that has a blush sparking in your chest and sliding up your neck, coating your throat and dusting your ears before it makes its final home resting upon your cheeks--complexion so red that you fear you must match the bright red of the surrounding packaging. regardless, you’ve made sure to memorize the name of the store. and the address. and its periods in which it’s open and closed. and you’re about to become their prized patron, that’s for sure. 

hendery 冠亨

huang guanheng is someone you met by chance abroad. a handsome stranger that you spot from across the street at some packed tourist attraction. a stranger so captivating that you wonder why the hell he isn’t the attraction. but it’s rude to stare and quite uncomfortable to crane your neck in his direction in a desperate attempt to catch his gaze over the hundreds of heads standing between the two of you, so you (albeit reluctantly) relent. you’re not focusing much on the site itself. mind replaying the sight of him over and over again in your head until the details become fuzzy and details seem to miscorrect themselves. but you can easily recall the gist, a man who’s tall and lean. well built with well defined features that were displayed through the loose (frankly sheer) hanging of his tee shirt across his broad shoulders and the slacks that were fitted against muscular legs. brown hair that fell upon his face in swooping curves, brushing against his cheekbones with a loving touch. its twinged with a bright blonde, no doubt lightened from hours spent in the sun. another such indication being smooth skin tinged with a honey tan, littered with dainty necklaces and bracelets that pull from the scattered beauty marks bleeding across his arms and collarbones. pouted lips pulling into a soft smile at something one of his friends said. it was a language you didn’t quite understand, not native to the country you both were visiting, thus words incomprehensible and separating the two of you with a barrier you were unable to cross. well without the help of a middle man that is. not that it really quite mattered anyway, because now you were right up in front of the real tourist attraction (not to be confused with your attraction) and far set away from your short-lived romance (could you really call it that if it was one-sided staring?). the sight was almost as captivating as him, standing on your toes to get a better look. and the sight itself really does make you forget about him for all of ten seconds. ten seconds spent admiring something other than him. ten seconds ending as you stand back on the full weight of your feet and abruptly turn around. the eleventh second which is spent up against his chest, steadying yourself on the bulk of his forearm. the twelfth second spent with alarm bells ringing inside your head as you pull away from him, apologizing in mandarin (your mandarin is basic, tones rusty and hesitant but if he noticed he didn’t show it) at the same time he does the same in english. oh. oh! you brush off his apology with a gentle smile and the wave of your hand, words perfectly poised in english. spoken at the same time of his own, words sung sickeningly sweet as he speaks them in the elongated intonations of mandarin. ah. the next sound from the both of you is laughter as you bow and go your separate ways in the crowd. you’re so flustered by the fact that you spoke to him that you can’t even kick yourself for failing to keep the conversation going, though it’s fair to say that was no fault of your own. and as you turn back to get one final glance at him, you find him returning your stare--a sight to which the both of you jerk your heads in opposite directions, tips of both your ears a pretty pink. would it be so bad to brush up on mandarin?

yangyang 扬扬

liu yangyang is your co-worker from some summer job you had in high school. it's some gig that’s paying you less than they should be, summer camp counselor or waiters or lifeguard. a job that has you on your feet all day, barely giving you a second to sit down and recompose yourself. or breathe. or properly function without snapping back into customer service mode. and it’s this job that you’re doing partially for the money and partially because some masochistic shred of you enjoys it but primarily because of him. an embarrassing fact that you would never willingly admit but you’re in high school and what teenager hasn’t done something for a crush. something even as taxing as working a nine to five (more like a seven to six with the extra hours and work you’re putting in). but all your worries, all that weight on your shoulders is practically thrown off during your shifts with him. or your lunch breaks. or the parking lot at the end of the day where he walks you to your car with a bashful smile and a nervous hand on the back of his neck. he’s refreshing and youthful, an older you would attest that he perfectly encapsulates the teenage summer dream. an older you would also revisit him in your memories quite often, wishing to go back to that one summer shared with him (though you doubt you would be as lenient with the work now). that summer where you would both hide from your supervisor in one of the storage closets, pressed up against one another as you held your hands over your mouths. whispers escaping through sudden bursts of giggling that nearly had you caught. perhaps it was the thrill of hiding or escaping the admonition of your boss but you weren’t very aware of the way your foreheads brushed against one another's or the fan of your breath on one another's lips until after it was over. a summer filled with exploring the back hallways of your workplace, pretending like you were in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. he held onto your hand as he dragged you along, waiting for a lull in your conversation to jump back at you. a trick you always fell for. a trick you always reprimanded him for. a trick he always did despite the reprimands. not that you minded, more focused on the way his thin fingers felt pressed against your own. a sensation that made you feel like you really might turn into a zombie. a summer that was consumed by sneaking into the kitchen and stealing the ice cream they had locked up in the freezer. eating it as quickly as you could before someone would come in, dripping it down your chin and onto your uniform as you laughed at something he said. something undoubtedly stupid. undoubtedly him. a summer that held pinky promises of friendship (which you wished was something more), and the tending of wounds when you scraped your knee, and a few almost kisses that neither of you had the courage to make real. a summer that had you wishing the job would never end or that maybe you could conjure up the grit to ask him out (you couldn’t). a summer that flowed into fall and had you up every night recalling each and every moment spent with him. safe to say that summer became your favorite season.

🗯️ writing ten's scenario was incredibly serious for me. he's my first nct love (i love you forever sm rookies ten lee) and i just hold him so dear to my heart. that's my guy! might be the best thing i've ever written who knows. yang's made me cry because i'm a nostalgic loser and his was based off my summer work-place crush. as a set, i was kicking my feet and giggling and blushing while writing all of these...

nct 127 home nct dream nct wish

🧾 © 00127am 2024

Keen for this one! 🙌🏼💗✨

LIKE YOU DO (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: when your brother's best friend suddenly reveals his newfound crush on you, you find yourself at a crossroads, thinking back to your own unrequited crush on him from back in middle school, making you wonder if you should be the better person and give him a chance.

content: brother'sbestfriend!seungcheol, frienemies-ish to lovers, reader is jeonghan's adoptive sister of his same age, mentions of previous unrequited crush, lots of unserious banter, afab reader, they're both inexperienced (theyre virgins but its not explicitly said lol), smut, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 2k (teaser); 7.8k (full fic)

release date: march 20th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: this was originally gonna be like 2k words and was supposed to be a short lil response to an ask but i got carried away with the story hehe

masterlist | kofi/patreon

"Jeonghan?"

"Yeah?"

"Why does Seungcheol keep showing up during my breaks to bring me coffee?"

"Oh. He's trying to break you down so he can ask you out," He responded in the most nonchalant way possible.

"What? Since when does Seungcheol even like me?"

"Are you kidding? he's had a huge crush on you since we were seventeen."

"Dude, what? Where the hell was that attitude back in middle school when I was following him around like a fucking loser?", you grumbled at the memory of your former unrequited crush.

It was pathetic to think about, but it was true. You had sadly had a tendency to follow your brother and his friend around during the majority of your tweens and teens, always carrying the false hope that Seungcheol would one day look your way. As expected, he never even so much as glanced at you during that period of your life.

It's not like you could blame him. You were just a few years behind the rest of the herd when it came to puberty, you were still donning braces and also had a less than favorable sense of style. By all means, you were a bit of a loser up until turning 16. However, it was still sad to know that the guy of your dreams simply saw you as a nuance he had to deal with in exchange for being able to hang out with your brother.

Except that had been well over two years ago (give or take). By the time you were 16 and a junior in high school, you were confidently over your crush. You had stopped following him around by the time you entered the second half of your teens, but your crush would still occasionally show remnants of itself any time he was around (which was often, as he and Jeonghan were practically attached to the hip). However, it was far more lowkey than before and eventually died down altogether. You were long past those awkward years of tweenhood and now had a developed sense of style, along with an air of confidence you now carried with you. Puberty hit you all at once and your entire persona changed along with it. You had an established group of friends and were even a bit popular, no longer needing to hang around Jeonghan and Seungcheol just for a glimpse of the boy's attention. By the time you were 16, you were over Choi Seungcheol.

This carried over to the last two years of high school, now with a completely different dynamic between you and your former crush. Despite attending the same grades at the same time, you did not belong to the same social circles, so you would not see each other too often. However, since your brother (and brother's best friend) continued to attend the same school as you those last two years of high school, you still bumped into Cheol from time to time, specially whenever Jeonghan would bring him over.

Over the years, Seungcheol came to see you as less of a nuance and more of a friend. After turning 16 (upon your glow up and the dissipation of your crush), he would engage in casual conversation with you. He would even seek you out on his own at times, though you were never too enthusiastic about these meetings. Middle school you would've been elated at such development, but you didn't think much of it after having gotten over your crush, now bitter over how it had all played out so fruitlessly for you.

After having gotten over your crush, you came to resent Seungcheol a bit, now realizing the way he used to sometimes take advantage of your crush to get you to be his lackey and how he would even make you the butt of jokes among his friend group (whenever your brother wasn't around, of course). During the years in which you were infatuated with him, you truly believed it was just some sort of inside joke between the two of you; a 'will they, won't they' type of dynamic. However, upon leaving that childish phase of your life, you began to look back at it in embarrassment. After that, you distanced yourself from him. During ages 16 and up, you would even come to avoid him, something which Jeonghan thankfully never commented on despite having also been aware of your former crush.

And now. Now you were being made privy to the fact that Seungcheol had apparently begun to return your crush only a little over a year after you got over yours. At seventeen, Jeonghan said. That's the year you like to believe you truly got your act together. After your glow up at 16 years of age (appearance and personality-wise), you began to engage in new hobbies, new friend groups, and overall went through a full transformation of your former loser self (or at least that's how Seungcheol had made you feel all those years). You had put all relationship related interests aside since your catastrophic crush on Seungcheol left you high and dry. After graduating, you even left the country for a few months, deciding to start college a semester after your brother to explore the world a bit in order to find yourself before starting school back up again.

That period of time proved very useful to you. You mingled in the arts of casual dating in your absence (something which you had never done thanks to your irremovable crush), made friends, took up new interests, and most of all, grew out of any remnants of your former feelings for Seungcheol.

Except that all came crumbling down the moment you came back, suitcase in hand, and found Seungcheol at the door of your brother's apartment upon your arrival for your move-in day with your brother, which now seemed to include Seungcheol in the equation.

You had been less than elated when your brother suddenly informed you that instead of solely moving in with him in order to begin attending his university, you would now be sharing the apartment with an unwanted guest – Seungcheol. This had been the first time you saw him again after graduating, which had also been your last day to see anyone for the past six months over the duration of your trip.

Since your brother had begun attending school while you took a sabbatical from education, he had found himself an apartment so you would have a place to move into upon your return. The agreement had been for the two of you to be the sole habitants, until Seungcheol suddenly decided to attend the same university as you and your brother, promptly moving in with Jeonghan in your absence. It seemed like that had been the original plan, one which died when Seungcheol simply decided to stay, moving his things out what was supposed to be your room and moving them into what then became a shared room between him and Jeonghan.

This was when you first began to have suspicions about Seungcheol.

Although your crush had died down about two years back, you still felt awkward in his presence. His existence was a constant reminder of his consistent rejection of your feelings, something which had not helped your confidence much in the past. But it now seemed like Seungcheol had been the one seeking you out more than the other way around. Even back when you were saying your goodbyes before leaving on your vacation, Seungcheol had seemed even more disappointed at your prolonged absence than your own brother. You hadn't thought much of it at the time, except that this behavior kept up as the two of you became roommates.

Seungcheol would now walk you to class whenever possible, even when it meant going out of his way. He would lend you notes from the classes he had taken the prior semester; ones which you were currently having to take. He would show up between your classes with either drink or food in hand. He'd stop by your workplace at the school's cafe whenever he had down time. He'd stare down any guy that would try and interact with you in any of these instances. You were completely casual about it, trying to not read too much into it, but the worst thing about it all was that you liked it. You liked the attention he was finally giving you.

Though you were suspicious about Seungcheol's intentions, you had never considered the possibility of Seungcheol actually liking you romantically until your brother had so casually informed you just now. Even through your immediate complaint about it, your heart sped up at the thought. Your mind went back to every single memory of your own crush on him, thinking back to every single thing you used to like about him. Up until the moment in which Jeonghan called your attention once more, having answered your question but receiving no response from you due to the extended internal monologue you had gone through due to the sudden revelation.

"Sorry, what did you say?", you finally responded.

He chuckled at your absent-mindedness, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. "I said that your crush was just puppy love. He can't help that he didn't return your feelings at the time. It's been like what, three years since you got over him? Are you really still mad about it?", replied Jeonghan as he nudged you to eat the muffin he had bought you over twenty minutes ago.

Puppy love? It sure didn't feel like it during all those years in which you pined over him. But maybe Jeonghan was right. Maybe it had simply been interpreted as a harmless crush by both Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Except this did not justify every single remembrance of Seungcheol's constant dismissal and mockery of your feelings through the years, only ever looking your way once you were finally over him.

You took a deep breath, deciding to try and be rational in your response, "He mocked me over my crush for years, Jeonghan. He made me the butt of every joke and took advantage of how into him I was for his own entertainment. He only ever started respecting me when I changed my appearance and personality completely. Why should I even consider giving him a chance?"

"Hey, I'm not telling you to do that. Just keep an open mind, okay? We were kids. I'm sure he meant it all in good fun. You know he can be kind of an idiot at times," he took a pinch of the untouched muffin in front of you, "Is there no part of you that maybe still likes him?"

"Did you come to my workplace to harass me into dating your best friend?", you snatched the muffin away – the muffin he had 'bought' despite getting a discount due to your position as a barista, "I'm not the same loser I was in middle school, I have options."

"Oh, yeah?", he smirked, "Then how come you've never had a boyfriend?"

"I'm only 19, it's not like I've dedicated my entire life to celibacy. If I wanted one I could get one. Easy," you argued, "Are you gonna leave any time soon? I need to get back to work," you began to gather his and your cup to head back to your work duties.

"There's literally no one here," he whined, "And stop dodging my questions. Do you like him? Do you want a relationship or not?", he pushed, "I'm your brother, you're supposed to trust me with this type of stuff."

"Adoptive brother," you corrected as you wiped the table Jeonghan was still sitting at.

"Don't say that. I hate it when you say that," he whined.

"You know what? You're right," you decided, halting your movements.

"I am?"

"Yeah. I should get a boyfriend."

"Oh. You mean someone who isn't Seungcheol, don't you?", he sighed.

"Of course. I'm not just gonna come crawling back to him just because he decided he likes me now. And you're right. Now that I'm over my crush and I'm back home, I should get a boyfriend. Maybe that'll get Cheol off of me," you declared.

"So it is about Cheol then."

"Jeonghan, shut up!"

ooo, the mc was enamoured 💕

where the heart leads, the eyes follow

summary. suddenly, jungwon is everywhere you look and part of every thought you think.

pairing. jungwon x y/n

genre. fluff, classmates to lovers, y/n inner turmoil 👍

word count. 0.9k

released. 03.05.2024

author's note. feedback is appreciated! i need to know how long it takes u guys to write drabbles i feel like i'm doing something wrong 😭😭😭 like why do they take me FOREVER

masterlist

For some godforsaken reason, Yang Jungwon has always been there.

There. Right in your field of vision. Running the school festival's concession stand when you were craving funnel cake. Next to Nishimura Riki on the soccer field when your eyes dart to him, yet also next to Sim Jaeyun when they land on him next. Conveniently seated two columns to your left in your economics class, so when you turn to speak to your friends, you're forced to see a head of midnight hair.

It's irritating. A nuisance.

You hate how Jungwon is somehow always there, because when he is, he's the only one in the room you ever see.

His presence is permanent and permeating; it causes unfilled lesson notes and empty documents to stare up at you every class, begging for your attention while you beg for your attention to stray for once. To not leave a question set half-finished because he just carded a hand through his hair—to not feel your chest weakly twinge whenever he laughs at something his pretty desk mate said.

At some point, you begin to see Jungwon even on the days he isn't there. Even without a stimulus, you can see the lines of his figure that carve out the definition of his shoulders and the sharp inner corners of his cat-like eyes. Your brain is more familiar with the sight and thought of Jungwon than not, including him in an infinite number of mental paintings and films, as if he was as customary in your life as the changing seasons.

Life was better before this bullshit, you think in exasperation.

You hate how the subject at the forefront of your thoughts was just some boy—how he manages to seemingly go about his life so effortlessly while confusion, turmoil, fear settles in your gut.

What's going on? Is this some twisted joke? Why is he always there—

"Y/N?"

His voice comes from behind your open locker door.

You've never heard his voice this close before.

Your name sounds like honey dripping off his tongue, and yet you don't know what to think of it. The rapid beating in your chest and the uncomfortable churn of your stomach are giving you mixed signals.

Cautiously, you close the locker shut. Your voice comes out in a weak exhale.

"Jungwon."

A serene smile appears on his lips. "I wanted to say congratulations. If anyone deserved to speak at the district gala, it's you."

You blink slowly. "District gala?"

"Yeah! You got it, didn't you?"

That doesn't make any logical sense.

Sure, you'd wanted to represent your school and speak in front of the district's administration—but that opportunity has only ever rightfully belonged to one person, and he's standing right in front of you.

"I-I thought you were speaking at the gala."

Jungwon tilts his head at you in a way that makes you feel like your knees could give out. "Pretty sure the name the principal just said over the PA system sounded a lot like yours and nothing like mine," he teases, leaning against the locker next to yours.

Silence falls over the two of you while your gaze is trained on a floor tile, the process of digesting the fact that you'd be giving a speech at the district gala significantly slowed down by Jungwon's looming presence. He looks down at you, a fond speckle in his eye, before he speaks again.

"You can say no, but I have a favour to ask," he says softly. "I have a few parts of my original speech that I really want to make heard. I was wondering if you'd be willing to include them on my behalf?"

He's clutching a small piece of folded paper in between his slender fingers, holding it out for you to take.

You're sure you take way too long to react, shakily reaching out to take the paper from him. Your skin is set aflame when your fingers brush against his.

Trying to pinpoint the emotion Yang Jungwon evokes in you has led you to feel a billion different ones in the process, each one more conflicting than the last—

—and yet, in this moment, you let down your defences.

Letting yourself fall into the sea of stars behind his irises.

Four months later, you're walking up to the stage's wooden podium, over the top of which you're greeted by an auditorium of three hundred different faces.

There's amazement, and then there's anxiety. It manifests in the dry gulp you take and the tightened grip of your hands on the sides of the podium. Your eyes frantically dart around for something to focus on, searching, searching—

Jungwon.

He's there, leaning against a far pillar with one hand in the pocket of his dress pants, and the other holding a glass of sparkling juice. There's a delicate, sterling silver charm bracelet wrapped around his wrist, a singular charm of your initial attached to it.

Your eyes flicker down to the near identical one on your own wrist, the charm with his initial glimmering under the chandelier lights.

With a clear of your throat, you redirect your gaze to the audience. Instinctively, it falls again on the boy against the far pillar.

The one with his phone camera pointed at the stage and the prettiest smile on his face.

Jungwon always seems to be there, waiting for your eyes to land on him.

Or maybe, in a room filled with people, he's the only one you've ever looked for.

its got angst, its got sass, its got humour, the whole sahbang 👏🏼

Current chapter count: 22 +ong

CHERRY FLAVOURED

SYNOPSIS: y/n, the campuses notorious heartbreaker, had never been one to settle down, running from the word commitment since the concept had first been introduced to her, but one smile and a little cherry coke seems to do just the trick when she runs into captain of the dance team, park jisung

PAIRING: dancer!jisung x fem!reader

GENRE: smau (will contain a decent no. of written parts), strangers to lovers, college au, love at first sight?

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of alcohol, sexual innuendos, trashy family dynamics, jokes about death (tba..)

PROFILES | [1] [2]

MAIN STORY

01— jaemin did what now

02— oh party party yeah (smau + written 1.08k)

03— how many shades of grey?

04— what would you know about celibacy

05— walk you home (smau + written 0.7k)

06— bitchless and broke

07— word on the street (smau + written 1.1k)

08— midnight munchies (*smau + written 0.4k*)

09—looks very boyfriend (smau+ written 2k)

10—cross my heart and hope to die

11— fresh hot lover boy goss

12— me and my girlies (smau + written 1.45k)

13—thirsty for attention (smau + written 0.8k)

14— HUGE problem

15— sworn to secrecy (smau + written 1.39k)

16— first snow (*smau + written 1k*)

17— fall at your feet (smau + written 0.4k)

18— A for effort

19— always 2nd best (smau + written 1.2k)

20— no comment

21— grow the fuck up

22 — papa zhong (*smau + written 0.2k*)

23— disappointed not angry

NOTE: more coming soon (unreleased chapter names may change <3) + some written cuts are just for fun/ not necessary to the plot, and will be marked with an * !!

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