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mountaesan · 5 days ago

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RIDICULOUSLY YOURS ‧₊ ᵎᵎ ⋅ ˚✮

۶ৎ ALTERNATIVE : Woonhak's Crash Course on Loving You !!

۶ৎ PAIRING : class clown!woonhak x academic burnout!reader ۶ৎ GENRE(S) : fluff, comfort ۶ৎ WARNING(S) : academic stress, mentions of low self esteem ۶ৎ WORD COUNT : 4.9k words

۶ৎ A/N : wrote this in class bcs why can't the men in my class be like the ones I write in my fics? 😒

Step 1 :

The fluorescent lights in Chemistry class are doing that annoying flicker thing again, and you're pretty sure the migraine building behind your eyes is less about the lights and more about the fact that you've been running on three hours of sleep and spite for the past week.

Your notebook is open to a page that's supposed to contain notes about molecular bonds, but instead it's just a series of increasingly illegible scribbles that look like your sanity slowly deteriorating in real time. You're staring at the equations with the same energy as someone watching paint dry, except paint drying would probably be more engaging at this point.

"You look like you need a personality reboot."

The voice comes from your right, and you don't even have to look to know it's Woonhak. Kim Woonhak, who somehow ended up as your seatmate in Chemistry, Biology, and Math this semester, a cruel joke from the universe, considering he's basically the human embodiment of a golden retriever while you're currently channelling the energy of a dying houseplant.

You turn to look at him, and he's got that concerned-but-trying-to-be-casual expression that people get when they're not sure if you're going to laugh or cry.

"Excuse me?" you deadpan.

"I'm just saying," he continues, completely unfazed by your tone, "you've been looking like you're planning the demise of that textbook for the past twenty minutes. It's giving very 'final boss' energy."

"Maybe I am."

"See, this is what I'm talking about." He leans back in his chair, studying you with those annoyingly perceptive eyes. "When's the last time you smiled? And I don't mean that polite customer service smile you do when teachers ask if you understand the material by the way."

You open your mouth to answer, then close it. Because honestly? You can't remember.

"That's what I thought," Woonhak says gently. "Don't worry, though. I'm gonna fix this."

"Fix what?"

"Your whole..." he waves his hand vaguely in your direction, "...situation."

"I don't have a situation."

"Everyone has a situation. Yours is just particularly tragic."

Before you can respond with something appropriately sarcastic, your teacher clears her throat at the front of the class, and Woonhak turns his attention back to the lesson with a satisfied little smile that makes you want to throw your eraser at his head.

You have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into.

Step 2 :

The first sticky note appears on your desk the next morning, stuck to your water bottle in handwriting that's somehow both messy and oddly neat.

"Don't die today 💗"

You stare at it for a full thirty seconds, then look around the classroom. Woonhak is already at his desk, chin propped on his hand, watching you with barely contained glee.

"Seriously?" you mouth at him.

He just grins and gives you a thumbs up.

The second note shows up during lunch, somehow tucked into your locker despite the fact that you're pretty sure you didn't give him your combination.

"You're hotter than midterms"

This one makes you snort despite yourself, which is apparently exactly the reaction Woonhak was hoping for, because when you turn around, he's standing three lockers down with the most smug expression you've ever seen.

"How did you even—"

"I have my ways," he says mysteriously, then pulls a bag of your favorite chips from his backpack. "Want some?"

You freeze. You've never told anyone what your favorite chips are. Hell, you're not even sure you've eaten them at school before.

"How do you know these are my favourite?"

"Lucky guess?" he offers, but he's doing that thing where he's trying not to smile, which means he's absolutely lying.

"Woonhak."

"Fine, fine. I asked Sungho what you usually buy from the vending machine. He said you always get the same thing."

"You asked Sungho about my snacking habits?"

"I asked Sungho about your preferences. There's a difference."

You want to be annoyed, but the chips are already open and they smell heavenly, and you haven't eaten anything since your sad breakfast of coffee and a toast with jam.

"This is weird," you tell him, but you take the bag anyway.

"Weird how?"

"Weird like... why do you care?"

Woonhak is quiet for a moment, and you notice a slight shift in his expression. "Because you look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and I don't think anyone's bothered enough to ask if you need help."

The chips suddenly taste like cardboard.

"I'm fine," you say automatically.

"Yeah," Woonhak says softly, "that's what I figured you'd say."

Step 3 :

"For When You Wanna Punch a Textbook" shows up in your Spotify notifications at 11:29pm on a Tuesday, right when you're in the middle of having a breakdown over calculus homework.

You almost don't click on it, the last thing you need is Woonhak's chaotic energy in musical form when you're already barely holding it together. However, your curiosity wins, and you tap the notification.

The first song is something you've never heard before, but it's got this driving beat that somehow perfectly matches the frustration you're feeling. The second is a song you forgot you loved. The third makes you stop writing entirely and just listen.

By the time you reach the end of the playlist, it's past midnight and your calculus homework is still unfinished, but something in your chest feels a little lighter.

You screenshot the playlist and send it to Woonhak with a simple "Thanks."

His response comes back immediately, despite the late hour : "Told you it was good 😌"

"How did you know?" you type back.

"Know what?”

"What music I'd like, we've never talked about music."

The typing indicator appears and disappears several times before his response finally comes through : "You hum sometimes when you're concentrating, figured out your vibe from there."

You stare at your phone screen, a warm and uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach. You hum when you concentrate? You didn't even know you did that. But somehow Woonhak noticed, and not only noticed but cared enough to remember.

"That's creepy" you send back, because you don't know how else to respond.

"That's friendship, omg just like My Little Pony! 🦄🤩 " he replies, and then immediately after : "Anyways, get some sleep. you have bags under your eyes the size of my future."

"Your future is probably pretty small then"

"Ouch, and here I am trying to save your academic career."

Despite all the weight you’ve been carrying, you smile, for the first time in weeks.

"Goodnight woonhak"

"Goodnight!! Sweet dreams of not punching textbooks 💗"

Step 4 :

"What's the square root of you plus me?" Woonhak asks on a Thursday morning, sliding into his seat next to you just as the bell rings.

"Shut up," you reply automatically, not looking up from your notes.

"Incorrect. The answer is destiny."

This time you do look up, fixing him with your most deadpan stare. "That doesn't even make mathematical sense."

"Love rarely does."

"Who said anything about love?"

"I did. Just now. Keep up."

You want to be annoyed, but with the way he’s looking at you, like he can see through all the walls you’ve built, every crack you've plastered over, makes it impossible to stay irritated.

"You're ridiculous," you tell him.

"Ridiculously charming?"

"Ridiculously loud."

"I'll take it." He pulls out his notebook, then glances at you sideways. "You know, for someone who claims to hate my company, you sure do smile a lot when I'm around."

"I do not—"

"You're smiling right now."

You immediately try to school your expression into something more neutral, but it's too late. Woonhak's grin is so wide it looks like it might split his face in half.

"I knew it," he says triumphantly. "You like me."

"I tolerate you."

"Same thing."

"It's really not."

"Agree to disagree." He leans back in his chair, looking incredibly pleased with himself. "So, what's the plan for lunch today? More sad vending machine food, or are you finally going to let me introduce you to the cafeteria's surprisingly decent pizza?"

"I don't eat cafeteria food."

"Why not?"

"Because it's..." you pause, trying to find the right words. "It's loud and crowded in there. Plus, everyone's always staring."

"Staring at what?"

"At... I don't know. Everything… everyone."

Woonhak's expression softens slightly. "What if I told you that most people are too busy worrying about their own stuff to pay attention to anyone else?"

"I'd say you're being optimistic."

"What if I told you that even if they were staring, they'd probably just be thinking about how cool your hair looks today?"

"I'd say you're being ridiculous."

"What if I told you that I'd sit with you and make stupid jokes until you forgot to be nervous?"

Your pen paused and hovered over the pages at his words, and there's a softness in his eyes that makes your chest feel tight. "I'd say... maybe that would be okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, but if you make any more math puns, I'm leaving."

"Deal, but I'm not promising anything about chemistry puns."

"Woonhak."

"Fine, fine. No science puns. You're really limiting my material here."

"Good."

Step 5 :

The midterm grade stares back at you from your phone screen like a personal attack :

67%.

In Biology, which is supposed to be your good subject.

You've been staring at the email for ten minutes now, sitting in your car in the school parking lot, and you still can't quite process it. You studied for this test. You studied for weeks. You gave up sleep, meals, social interaction, what little you had to begin with, and somehow it still wasn't enough.

Your phone buzzes with a text from your mom: "How did your test go? Dad's making your favourite dinner tonight!"

The favourite dinner you won't be able to enjoy because you'll have to tell them about this grade. The disappointment in their voices when they realize their kid isn't as smart as they thought. The way they'll try to hide their concern while asking if you need a tutor, if you're struggling, if there's something wrong.

Your phone buzzes again. This time it's Woonhak: "Hey!! Saw you in the parking lot, you okay?”

You don't respond. You can't respond. You're too busy trying to figure out where you went wrong, or how everything went wrong so fast.

Another text: "Heading over"

You want to tell him not to, want to drive away before he reaches your car, but you can't seem to make your body move. You just sit there, staring at that stupid number on your screen, until there's a gentle tap on your passenger window.

Woonhak's face appears, upside down, as he bends to peer through the glass. His expression immediately shifts when he sees you.

You hesitantly unlock the door for him.

"Hey," he says softly, sliding into the passenger seat. "What's wrong?"

You hold up your phone without a word.

Woonhak looks at the screen, then back at you. "Okay. That sucks. But it's not the end of the world."

"It feels like it."

"I know." He's quiet for a moment. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Okay. You want to sit here and be miserable for a while?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. I'm good at that too."

And he… surprisingly is. He sits there, not trying to fix anything or make you feel better, just being present while you fall apart. It's more comforting than it should be.

"I studied so hard," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know you did."

"I gave up everything. Sleep, food, time with my friends, not that I have many to begin with."

"I know."

"And it still wasn't enough." Your voice cracks on the last word, and you hate how pathetic you sound.

"Hey." Woonhak's voice is gentle. "Look at me."

You don't want to, but you force yourself to look into his eyes.

"One grade doesn't define you," he says. "I know it feels like it does right now, but it doesn't. You're smart, and you're dedicated, and you work harder than anyone I know. This is just one test."

"It's not just one test, though. It's everything. I'm tired all the time, I can't focus, I feel like I'm drowning and everyone else is just... swimming."

"Then maybe it's time to learn how to float."

"What?"

"You don't have to be swimming all the time. Sometimes you can just float. Let the current carry you for a while."

You stare at him. "That's surprisingly deep for someone who makes puns about molecular bonds."

"I contain multitudes."

Despite everything, you laugh. It's a small, broken sound, but it's enough to make Woonhak fondly smile back at the sound.

"There she is," Woonhak says softly, and the way he's looking at you makes your chest ache in a completely different way in ways you can't explain.

"I should go home," you say eventually. "Face the music."

"Want me to come with you?"

"What?"

"Not inside," he clarifies quickly. "Just... moral support. I can wait in the car, make sure you don't drive into a tree on the way home."

"I'm not going to drive into a tree."

"Humour me."

You consider it. The idea of going home alone, of sitting through dinner with your parents while trying to pretend everything's fine, feels overwhelming. But the idea of Woonhak being there, even just in the driveway, feels like something you could handle.

"Okay," you say finally. "But you're not allowed to make any jokes about my house."

"Deal. But if your parents invite me in for dinner, I'm not saying no."

"They won't."

"We'll see."

Step 6 :

You don't show up to school the next day, or the day after that.

By the third day, Woonhak is starting to worry. Your desk sits empty in all three classes you share, and none of your friends, the few you have, seem to know where you are. He asks Sungho, who just shrugs and says you're probably sick. He asks Jaehyun, who says he thinks he saw your car in your driveway yesterday but isn't sure.

On the fourth day, Woonhak decides he's had enough.

He's never been to your house before, but he's got your address from when you exchanged contact info for a group project last month. It's a fifteen minute walk from school, through a neighbourhood that's nicer than his but not fancy.

Your house is blue with white trim, and there's a car in the driveway that he assumes is yours. The curtains are drawn, but he can see light coming from what he thinks might be your bedroom window.

He stands on your front porch for a full minute, trying to figure out what to say.

Hey, I know we're not that close but I was worried about you? I brought snacks and emotional support? I miss making fun of your math skills?

In the end, he just knocks.

The door opens after a long moment, and you're standing there in pajamas that look like you've been wearing them for days, hair messy, eyes red-rimmed.

"Woonhak?" Your voice is hoarse, like you haven't used it in a while.

"Hey," he says softly. "Can I come in?"

You stare at him for a moment, then step aside.

Your house is quiet, so quiet that he could hear the hum of the refrigerator, the tick of a clock somewhere, but no voices, no TV, no signs of life.

"Where are your parents?" he asks.

"Work. They think I have the flu."

"Do you?"

"No."

You lead him to your room, which is somehow exactly what he expected and nothing like he imagined at the same time. It's neat but lived-in, with fairy lights strung around the ceiling and books stacked everywhere. Your desk is covered in papers and highlighters, evidence of study sessions that went nowhere.

"I brought supplies," Woonhak says, holding up a bag he's been carrying. "Snacks, tissues, that face mask thing you mentioned liking once, and—" He pulls out a small stuffed animal, a ridiculous-looking cat with a grumpy expression. "Emotional support."

You stare at the cat, then at him, then back at the cat.

"You brought me a stuffed animal?"

"His name is Professor Dubu. He's here to judge your life choices in a supportive way."

"That's..." You take the cat, holding it against your chest. "That's really weird."

"Good weird or bad weird?"

"I don't know yet."

Woonhak sits on the edge of your bed, careful to maintain some distance. "You want to talk about what's going on?"

"Not really."

"Okay. You want me to talk about random stuff until you get annoyed and tell me to leave?"

"Maybe."

"Cool. Did you know that octopuses have three hearts? And that they're technically aliens because their DNA is so different from everything else on Earth? Also, I'm pretty sure Jaehyun has been trying to ask out the girl from our History class for three weeks now, but every time he sees her, he just starts talking about the French Revolution instead."

Despite yourself, you smile a little. "That sounds like Jaehyun."

"Right? It's painful to watch. Anyways, Taesan thinks we should just lock them in a closet together until one of them breaks, but I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

"Probably."

"Definitely." He pauses. "You know, everyone's been asking about you. Teachers, classmates, even some people I didn't know you knew."

"Really?"

"Really. Turns out you're more popular than you think."

You're quiet for a moment, holding Professor Dubu and staring at your hands. "I don't feel popular. I feel... invisible."

"You're not invisible to me."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning you're not sure either of you is ready to examine.

"I know," you say finally. "And I don't understand why."

"Why what?"

"Why you..." You gesture vaguely between the two of you. "Why you care. Why you notice me. Why you're here."

Woonhak is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is softer than you've ever heard it.

"You know how some people are like... background music? Like, they're nice, and they're fine, but they don't really stick with you?"

You nod.

"You're not background music. You're like... the song that gets stuck in your head. The one you find yourself humming without realizing it. The one that you play on repeat and never get bored or tired of."

Your chest feels tight again, but in a different way than before.

"I don't know what to do with that," you admit.

"You don't have to do anything with it. Just... don't disappear, okay? Don't make yourself invisible just because things get hard."

"What if I can't help it?"

"Then I'll keep showing up until you remember how to be seen."

You stopped cold at his confession and stare directly at him. For once, you see past the carefully maintained cheerfulness you've known him for. Behind the exterior, you see someone who's genuinely worried about you, someone who cares enough to skip school and show up at your door with snacks and… emotional support cat plushies.

"Woonhak?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For... caring. For seeing me when I can't see myself."

"You don't have to thank me for that."

"I know, but I want to."

He smiles, different from his usual grins. This time, it’s smaller, softer, sincere.

"Come back tomorrow?" he asks.

"I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking for."

Step 7 :

You do come back the next day, although you're not sure why. Maybe it's because of what Woonhak said, or maybe it's because Professor Dubu spent the night judging you from your nightstand, or maybe it's just because staying home feels more exhausting than facing the world.

Woonhak lights up when he sees you walk into Chemistry, and the genuine relief on his face makes your heart flutter.

"You came back," he says as you slide into your seat.

"I said I'd try."

"Yeah, but you actually did it."

"Don't make a big deal out of it."

"Too late. I'm already planning the celebration."

You roll your eyes, but you're smiling a little. "Please don't."

"Fine, fine. But I'm at least buying you lunch."

"You don't need to—"

"I want to."

You catch the tone in his voice that makes you look at him more carefully. He's doing that thing again where he's trying not to smile, but this time, his composure seems… nervous?

"Okay," you say, because you don't know what else to say.

"Okay?"

"Okay, you can buy me lunch."

"Cool. Great. Perfect." He's definitely nervous now, fidgeting with his pen and avoiding eye contact.

"Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine. Totally fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

"Because you're acting weird."

"I'm not acting weird. This is how I always act."

"No, this is how you act when you're planning something."

"I'm not planning anything."

"Woonhak."

"Okay, fine. Maybe I'm planning something. But it's not a big something. It's like... a medium something."

"What kind of medium something?"

"The kind you'll find out about at lunch."

You spend the rest of Chemistry trying to figure out what he's up to, but he's remarkably good at deflecting your questions. By the time lunch rolls around, you're more curious than worried.

He leads you to a spot you've never been before, a small courtyard behind the library that's somehow managed to stay hidden from most of the student body. There's a picnic table under a tree, and he's already spread out what looks like an entire convenience store's worth of snacks.

"This is your medium something?" you ask.

"Part of it." He's definitely nervous now, running his hands through his hair and avoiding eye contact. "The other part is... um..."

"Woonhak, you're scaring me."

"I don't want to scare you. That's literally the opposite of what I want."

"Then just tell me what's going on."

He takes a deep breath, then looks at you directly for the first time all day. "I like you."

"I know. We're friends."

"No, I mean... I like you like you."

The words hang in the air between you, and you feel like you've been hit by a truck. Not in a bad way, exactly, but in a way that makes everything suddenly make sense and no sense at all.

"Oh," you say.

"Oh?"

"I... oh."

"That's not exactly the response I was hoping for."

You stare at him, trying to process what he just said. "You like me?"

"Yeah."

"Like... romantically?"

"Yeah."

"Since when?"

"Since..." He thinks for a moment. "Since you fell asleep in Biology and started drooling on your notes. You looked so peaceful, and I realized I wanted to be the person who made sure you got enough sleep so you wouldn't have to sleep in class."

"That's... specific."

"I'm a specific person."

"You are." You're quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how you feel about this revelation. "Why are you telling me now?"

"Because you disappeared for four days and I realized that the thought of you not being in my life anymore was actually terrifying."

"I wasn't going to disappear forever."

"But you could have. And I didn't want you to disappear without knowing that someone thinks you're amazing."

You feel heat rise in your cheeks. "I'm not amazing."

"You are, though. You're smart, funny and you care about things more deeply than anyone I know. You hum when you concentrate and you get this little crease between your eyebrows when you're thinking hard about something. You remember people's birthdays and you always have extra pens and you make these little jokes that are so dry I'm never sure if you're being serious or not."

"Those aren't amazing things. Those are just... things."

"They're amazing to me."

He's looking at you in the way that makes your chest feel tight again, but it's not uncomfortable this time. It's like something warm and bright is expanding inside you, filling spaces you didn't know were empty.

"I don't know what to say," you admit.

"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know."

"But what if I want to say something?"

"I'm all ears."

You take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. "I think... I think I like you too. I'm just scared…"

"Scared of what?"

"Scared that I'm not good at this, that I'll mess it up, that you'll figure out I'm not as amazing as you think I am."

"What if I told you I'm scared too?"

"You? Scared of what?"

"Scared that you'll realize you can do better than the class clown who makes too many puns and cares too much about whether you're eating enough."

"You don't make too many puns."

"I absolutely make too many puns."

"Okay, yeah, you do. But I kind of like them."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. They're... endearing."

"Endearing enough to maybe give this a shot?"

You look at him, sitting there surrounded by an absurd amount of snacks, looking nervous, hopeful and completely sincere, and you realize that maybe you've been approaching this whole thing wrong. Perhaps instead of trying to figure out if you're good enough or ready enough or brave enough, you should just... try.

"Yeah," you say. "I think I'd like that."

The smile that spreads across Woonhak's face is brighter than the sun.

Step 8 :

Few weeks later, you're standing in the hallway after school, shoving books into your locker, when Woonhak appears beside you like he always does.

"How was your day?" he asks, leaning against the lockers.

"Better," you say. "I got my Biology test back."

"And?"

"B+."

"That's amazing!" He looks genuinely proud, and a familiar warmth settles in your chest.

"It's not amazing, but it's better."

"It's progress. Progress is amazing."

You roll your eyes, but you're smiling. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously proud of you."

"You can't just add 'ridiculously' to everything I say."

"Ridiculously yes I can."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Ridiculously doesn't have to."

You slam your locker shut and turn to face him fully. "You're the worst."

"Ridiculously the worst."

"I'm going to hit you."

"Ridiculously hit me."

"Woonhak."

"Ridiculously Woonhak."

Instead of hitting him, you do something that surprises both of you, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder.

He freezes for a moment, then his arms come up around you, holding you close.

"What's this for?" he asks softly.

"For being ridiculous," you say into his shoulder. "For being annoying. For not giving up on me when I gave up on myself."

"You don't have to thank me for that."

"I know, but I want to."

You pull back slightly to look at him. He's got that soft expression again, the same one that makes your chest feel tight in the best way.

"I'm really glad you decided to fix my personality," you tell him.

"I didn't fix anything. I just helped you remember who you already were."

"Same thing."

"Ridiculously not the same thing."

You laugh, and Woonhak's expression shifts.

"There she is," he says quietly.

"There who is?"

"The girl I fell for. The one who was always hidden underneath all that nonchalant exterior, just buried under all the stress and exhaustion."

Before you can respond, someone shouts from down the hallway.

"FINALLY!"

You both turn to see Jaehyun and Taesan standing by the water fountain, grinning like idiots.

"Seriously?" Jaehyun calls out. "We've been waiting for this for months."

"Pay up," Taesan says, holding out his hand.

Jaehyun grumbles but pulls out his wallet. "I thought it would take at least another week."

"You bet on us?" you ask, incredulous.

"Of course we bet on you," Taesan says. "It was painful watching you two dance around each other."

"We weren't dancing around each other," Woonhak protests.

"You made her a playlist," Jaehyun points out.

"So?"

"You learned her favorite snacks."

"That's just being observant."

"You skipped school to check on her."

"That's just being a good friend."

"You bought her a stuffed animal."

Woonhak opens his mouth to argue, then closes it. "Okay, that one might have been a little obvious."

"A little?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine. Very obvious. Ridiculously obvious."

"There you go again with the ridiculously."

"It's my thing now."

"It's ridiculous."

"Ridiculously ridiculous."

Jaehyun and Taesan are still standing there, watching this exchange with matching grins.

"You two are disgusting," Taesan says, but he sounds fond.

"Ridiculously disgusting," Woonhak agrees cheerfully.

You look around at your friends, somehow, somewhere along the way, that's what they became.

You lay your eyes on Woonhak, who's still got his arms around you and is looking at you like he couldn't believe someone like you could ever exist in his life.

"You know what?" you say.

"What?"

"I think I'm okay with ridiculous."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. As long as it's your ridiculous."

The smile that spreads across Woonhak's face is ridiculously bright, and before you could even process it, he kisses you right there in the hallway, and your chest feels like it would explode with happiness that you forgot you were capable of feeling.

From somewhere behind you, you hear Jaehyun mutter, "I should have bet on the kiss too."

You ignore it, who cares?

You're too busy being ridiculously, impossibly, completely happy in love.

Ridiculously Woonhak’s.

@coriihanniee 💌

˖➴ reblogs are appreciated! ty for reading! <3

taglist: @lvlyhiyyih @supi-wupi @tinyelfperson @8makes1atom @s0shroe @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @mydeepestsecrects @brownetry @pumpkg @heeheesang @jungwonbropls @prodkwh @reibelhearts @beomev

#min's favs .ᐟ #OH HELLLLLL YEAH #i freaking love the class clown dynamic YALL DON'T GYETT IT LIKE EYE DEW #woonhak has that perfect balance of being silly and goofy while also having emotional depth to give y/n the reassurance and comfort that -#- they need #love love loveeee this pairing #ALSO #the dialogue????? the banter??????#the flow of their banter and arguing is so natural and humorous #i love them your honor

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mountaesan · 6 days ago

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in the abundance of love ; k. woonhak

pairing. woonhak x reader genre. angst , hurt/comfort , a pinch of fluff synopsis. in a night thick with heat and harsh words, you and woonhak break and mend, discovering that love isn’t perfect—it’s the fierce, messy fight and the quiet choice to stay anyway word count. 2145 words warnings. none ? woonhak and reader argue but it’s nothing toxic . . . just miscommunication ^^;; playlist. to love by suki waterhouse , all we ever do is talk by del water gap notes. requested by anon ! my first ever official request !! hope you enjoy ~ ( again , sorry it took so long T^T ) not proofread

The summer air pressed against your skin like something personal—clingy, thick, impossible to escape. It seeped into everything: your clothes, your sheets, your lungs. June had arrived with a vengeance, and the night held no relief. The ceiling fan spun lazily above you, stirring the heat just enough to make you aware of it. It was like trying to breathe through a damp cloth, like the air itself had weight.

The bedroom felt too still—haunted by the kind of absence that lingers in things. His half of the bed was untouched, sheets smoothed out like a deliberate choice, like he didn’t want to wrinkle what he wasn’t sure he’d return to. You stared at that space far too long.

The pillow you used to curl into carried only the faintest trace of his scent now, faded like a photograph left out in the sun. You flipped your own pillow again, and again, hoping the cool side would finally exist. It didn’t.

A single glass of water sat untouched on the nightstand, already warm to the touch. The room was dim, lit only by the soft spill of the streetlight outside, casting pale orange bars across the floorboards. Somewhere outside, a cicada cried out, its hum distant but constant, like a reminder that time hadn’t stopped just because things between you had.

And still, the silence was the loudest thing of all.

It pressed in around you, as suffocating as the heat. No shifting weight beside you. No familiar sigh. No brush of knuckles beneath the sheets. The emptiness in the room didn’t shout—it whispered. It clung. It asked questions you weren’t ready to answer.

You turned onto your side, then your back, then your stomach, each movement fueled by the kind of restless ache that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the way Woonhak hadn’t come to bed.

And for all the discomfort—the sweat, the heat, the stickiness of the air—nothing burned more than that.

You exhaled slowly, like the night might ease up if you did.

But the heat wasn’t just in the room. It sat in your chest too, heavy and dull, the kind that lingered after a fight—the kind that made sleep feel like a distant privilege.

Woonhak’s name hadn’t been spoken aloud, but it hung there anyway, unshakable. You could still hear the echo of your voices clashing earlier, the way everything sharpens when pride takes the reins. It wasn’t even the words that hurt the most. It was everything unsaid, swallowed between sighs and half-turned shoulders. You knew he cared. You knew you did too. But somehow, the caring always got lost in translation.

You turned your head toward the empty side of the bed, the space beside you a quiet ache.

The hum of the fan did little. The air conditioner had sputtered its last breath two nights ago, and now the room sat in stillness—thick, unmoving. A soft sheen of sweat clung to your skin. It all felt like too much.

You got up.

Padding barefoot into the kitchen, you weren’t looking for anything in particular—maybe water, maybe peace. But what you found instead was the soft amber glow of the living room lamp and the quiet shape of Woonhak sitting hunched over on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, hands tangled in his hair.

He looked like he hadn’t moved in hours.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, watching the slow rise and fall of his shoulders. There was something tender in the way the light caught the tired slope of his posture. He looked less like someone waiting and more like someone worn down by the waiting.

You crossed the room and sank quietly into the cushion beside him. The shift was small, but it was enough—his body tensed, then slowly unraveled. 

He didn’t look up when you sat down beside him. The soft glow of the lamp haloed him, but his features stayed shadowed—like even the light didn’t want to intrude.

“I didn’t think you’d come out,” he said eventually, voice low, hoarse.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah.” He laughed, but it sounded like all breath and no joy. “We’ve gotten good at that, huh?”

You didn’t answer right away. You looked down at your hands, twisting your fingers in your lap. The heat clung to your skin, but it was nothing compared to the weight sitting in your chest.

“We used to talk,” you said, your voice a little too fragile for how quiet the room was. “Even when things got hard. Now it’s like… every word turns into a minefield.”

That made him lift his head, finally. “So that’s what you think this is? A war?”

“I don’t know what it is anymore,” you admitted. “I say one thing and you hear something completely different. And suddenly, I’m the villain for trying to explain how I feel.”

Woonhak’s brows drew together, his jaw tensing. “You make it sound so simple. Like I’m the one twisting your words on purpose.”

“I never said that—”

“No, but you imply it. Every time we fight, you act like I’m the one who doesn’t care enough. Like I’m just standing here watching us fall apart.”

“Because sometimes it feels that way!” you snapped, voice breaking. “I’m trying, Woonhak. I’m trying so hard to be honest with you, but you shut me out. You joke, or deflect, or walk away, and I’m left screaming into a room you’re no longer in.”

He stood up, suddenly, pushing a hand through his hair as if the motion could keep him from unraveling. “Because when I stay, it only gets worse! You say things and I don’t know how to respond without making it worse!”

“Then maybe listen instead of defending yourself all the time!” you shot back, standing too now, the heat of the argument finally overtaking the suffocating warmth of the night. “Not every feeling I share is an accusation! Sometimes it’s just a cry for help—”

“I do listen!” he shouted, voice cracking. “I memorize the way you go quiet when you’re hurting. I notice every little change in your tone, your eyes, your silences. But when I try to fix it, it’s never enough! It’s like I’m always one step behind, like I’m failing no matter how hard I try.”

You stared at him, breathing hard. Something in your throat wobbled. “That’s not what I want, Woonhak. I’m not asking for perfect. I just want you to stay with me in it. Not fix it. Feel it. With me.”

“I don’t know how,” he said, the words cracking open as they left his mouth. “I don’t know how to sit with something and not try to fix it. I see you breaking and I panic. I hate seeing you hurt and knowing that I’m part of the reason.”

Your voice trembled. “But that’s the point. We’re supposed to hold it together. Each other. Not pretend everything’s okay until we explode.”

He looked away, blinking hard. “Every time we fight like this, I wonder when it’ll be the last time. When you’ll finally decide I’m not worth the chaos.”

“And every time I tell you how I feel, I wonder if it’ll be the thing that drives you further from me.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy—it was sharp. Cut-glass quiet.

Then Woonhak stepped forward, slowly, like approaching a wounded thing. His voice was quieter now, raw.

“I act like I’m angry, but really? I’m just scared. I don’t know how to love you without making a mess of it. I don’t know how to stop being afraid of losing you.”

Tears welled up behind your eyes, and you didn’t try to stop them. “You don’t have to love me perfectly. You just have to love me honestly.”

“I do,” he said, voice breaking. “So much it terrifies me.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just reached for him, your hands shaking slightly. And when he folded into your arms—when he let himself fall into you like gravity had been pulling him there all along—you held him like you meant it.

“I don’t need you to have all the answers,” you whispered into his hair. “I just need you to stop leaving the room before we find them together.”

He nodded against your shoulder, arms tightening around your waist like he couldn’t bear to let go again.

And in that breathless, overheated night, with pride and anger left behind on the living room floor, you found your way back to the love you’d both been trying—so clumsily, so desperately—to protect

Eventually, the quiet wrapped itself around you both like a threadbare blanket—fragile but binding. Neither of you moved right away. You just sat there, his fingers laced with yours, your foreheads pressed together, breathing in sync for the first time in what felt like days.

But the weight of exhaustion tugged gently at your limbs. Not just the tiredness that came from a sleepless night, but the ache that settles in after holding onto too much for too long.

“Come back to bed with me,” you whispered.

Woonhak nodded wordlessly, brushing his thumb once more over the back of your hand before rising. He didn’t let go. He never did—not really.

The walk to the bedroom was slow, the house still sticky with heat, the floor cool under your feet. The bed greeted you with the same crumpled sheets and too-warm air, but something felt different now. Softer. Lighter.

Woonhak climbed in first, lifting the edge of the duvet so you could slide beneath it. You followed without hesitation, letting the covers drape over the two of you like a truce. He pulled you close immediately, one arm curling around your waist, the other threading beneath your neck until you were fully wrapped in him—limbs tangling, chests pressed, heartbeats syncing like some quiet promise.

His embrace was warm. Too warm, by every definition that would normally have you tossing the blankets off with a groan.

But right now?

Right now, you didn’t mind it at all.

His warmth wasn’t stifling—it was steady. Familiar. The kind that anchored you. The kind that said you’re safe here, stay as long as you want.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in—the scent of his skin, a hint of detergent, something comforting and his. His thumb stroked lazy circles against your back. No words were needed anymore. You had already said the hard things.

Now, you could just be.

Woonhak let out a soft sigh against your hair. “Still too hot?” he murmured sleepily.

You shook your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Not like this.”

He pressed a barely-there kiss to your temple, the motion slow, reverent. “Good.”

And with your body curled into his, limbs tangled beneath the worn duvet, his arms folded around you like a promise, the heat of the room softened. It didn’t vanish—June still pressed at the windows, thick and unrelenting—but it no longer mattered. Not here, not like this. Not with Woonhak’s breath brushing the top of your head in quiet rhythm, not with the slow, steady thump of his heartbeat anchoring you to something real.

His fingers traced gentle lines along your spine, barely there, like he was trying to memorize the shape of you all over again. One of his legs hooked around yours, drawing you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left to give. You felt safe like this—wrapped up in someone who, even when you fought, always came back to hold you like you were something sacred.

You buried your face against his chest, inhaling the soft, lived-in scent of him—clean skin, faint detergent, a trace of sweat and something unmistakably him. You hated the heat. You always had.

The way it clung to everything. The way it made sleep feel like a chore. But in his arms, the warmth didn’t suffocate. It settled into you, deep and quiet, like sunlight through closed eyelids.

His thumb brushed slow circles over your hip. No words. Just presence. Just love, quiet and unspoken, expressed in the way he held you like you were the only thing that could steady his heart.

Your eyelids grew heavier with each breath, your body finally giving in—not because the air had cooled or the discomfort had lifted, but because being held like this made it easier to let go. To stop thinking. To rest.

And when sleep came, it came like mercy. It found you not in the absence of heat, but in the abundance of love.

Because even on the stickiest, sweatiest night of the year, Woonhak’s embrace was still your favorite kind of warmth. The kind that didn’t just wrap around your body—but reached in, quiet and steady, and held your heart too.

ᰋ liked this ? consider liking, reblogging, or providing feedback !

ᰋ want more ? send in an ask to be added to my taglist !

taglist. @taylorluvation @mimimimiaa

#min’s fav notes .ᐟ #giggling and kicking my feet as i type this actually !#thank you soso much #NO BUT YOU'RE SO RIGHT we're in a shortage of woonhak angst i fear #i'm so glad my writing was able to have that kind of effect !#thank you sm again for your kind words ^0^

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mountaesan · 6 days ago

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you’re gonna be the cause of my biggest crashout of 2025 that’ll send me to the hospital i expect u to pay the bills. JOKE! (not really.) i love ur writing so much if i was to be on my deathbed the last thing i’d wanna listen to would be each bnd member reading out your works to me amen.

BYE THIS ASK HAD ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET ON MY AIRBNB BED THANK YOU SM ???

send over the hospital bills anytime babes i might not be the most consistent writer but i am a responsible one 🙂‍↕️

and amen ! that sounds like the only right way for me to go as well ^-^

#min's mail .ᐟ #lovely anon <3

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mountaesan · 6 days ago

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omgg thank you sm for adding 'in the silence' & 'in the abundance of love' !! both works hold such special places in my heart as a die hard comfort lover :<

plz be sure to check out the other works mentioned as well !! all the writers are soso talented ^-^

can you make a part 2 of fanfic reccos? any if its possible long fic ones :DD

hii there! ofcourse i'll make a new list :) (all of these 1k+ words)

faves as of 30.06.2025

PARK SUNGHO

not a romance story by @2i1han intern!sungho x intern!reader addressed as narin, office rom-com, friends to lovers?, lovers to enemies, multiple parts!! wc. 16k total

under cold rainy nights by @soubeomies sungho x fem!reader, mentions of reader getting drunk n drinking, angst, fluff, wc. 1.5k

pretty boy by @hanfourz fluff, suggestive, established relationship, wc. 2.3k

mission p.s.h is a-go! by @000-pawz park sungho x fem!reader (she/her), college au, art major! reader, art major!sungho, reader is so lovesick, sungho is a nervous wreck, ft. lovingly-bothersome sidekick jaehyun + mom friend roommate yujin, shy extrovert sungho, not so shy extrovert reader <3, mutual pining, puppy love, first kisses, jaehyun has a lot of piercings because why not, the world is your wingman, a story about friendship and first loves!!!!, romantic comedy, wc. 11.3k+

LEE RIWOO

jealousy by @winteringdream fluff, angst if u squint, university au, wc 1.3k

cheese! by @seokmn your boyfriend loves to take pictures of you, but you didn't know he loves doing it that much, wc. 1k

in the silence by @mountaesan non-idol!riwoo x reader genre. childhood best friends to lovers , angst , mutual pining , fluff, wc. 4.8k

too sweet by @lxvsiick donut lover! lee riwoo x clueless! fem! readerone-sided rivalry, enemies to lovers, wc. 1.9k

MYUNG JAEHYUN

chalant by @fgumi non-idol!jaehyun x reader, fluff, uni!au, headcanon, wc. 2.1k

love language: burnt cookies by @htaesan fluff, established relationship long distance, wc. 2.3k

kiss me right by @lxvsiick down bad! frat boy! myung jaehyun x library worker! fem! reader, fluff, wc. 2k

the egg project by @hancorys enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, crack (bonedo dynamics mentioned), wc. 4.6k

it's not worth trying to learn other people's love language by @hannie-dul-set humor, fluff, park sungho learns a lesson about minding his own business, wc. 1.5k

stupid cupid by @miumura cupid ! jaehyun x f ! reader, cupid au, exes2lovers, second chance, pining, slowburn(ish), fluff, angst ( ? ), crack, wc. 25.9k

HAN TAESAN

sunburnt hearts by @winteringdream brothers bsf!taesan x gn!reader, fluff, wc. 1.7k

dangerous by @kaiyunsim neighbor!taesan x gn!reader, fluff, wc. 3.8k

melody of your heartbeat by @restlessmaknae songwriter!taesan x songwriter!female reader/you, coming of age, high school au, music industry au, colleagues au, roommates au, second chances, mostly hurt/comfort with fluff and angst scenes too, wc. 18.4k

teenage dirtbag by @seokmn mentions of graffiting, kissing, suggestive at the end if you squint, wc. 1.1k

wistful lullaby by @leehnz boyfriend!taesan x female!reader, wc. 1.1k

KIM LEEHAN

fruit punch and stomach bugs by @hancorys fluff, friends to lovers trope, loud leehan !! attempt on golden retriever x black cat trope, wc. 3.9k

international relations by @riizegasm president’s son!donghyun x rival!reader (implied fem reader), enemies to lovers, suggestive (like it gets very tense and a little graphic at the end), minor fluff, wc. 5.5k

track 2: i feel good by @ilysungho leehan x reader, established relationship (bf/gf), fluff, proposal!, use of she/her for reader, use of nicknames, boynextdoor besties lol (no woonhak but i love him guys i promise), open ending, wc. 1.5k

KIM WOONHAK

try not to spill your secret relationship on a bus full of nosy students: hard mode by @astrae4 student!woonhak x student!reader, romance, secret relationship, tooth rotting fluff, wc 1.2k

small girl fantasy pt 1 and part 2 by @hancorys fluff, co-worker to lovers hehe, reader has a BIG FAT crush on unagi (who doesn’t) mutual pining, wc. 3.7k total

in the abundance of love by @mountaesan angst, hurt/comfort , a pinch of fluff, wc. 2.1k

wildflower by @kaiyunsim fluff, woonhak drives, woonhak is very clumsy but also so cute, wc. 2.2k

waiting for you by @htaesan fluff, angst if you squint, childhood friends to lovers, wc. 3k

OT6

boynextdoor as high school tropes by @coriihanniee highschool au, fluff, comfort, mutual pining, grumpy x sunshine in Taesan's, wc 1.0k-1.3k for each member (kimmi feeds us too much 1k each member crazy heart eyes)

boynextdoor as your high school boyfriend by @nicholasluvbot includes taesan , leehan , woonhak fluff , leehan is a little cheesy , taesan one is sappy but then again thats just the way i'm with him wc. 2k ( around 500 to 700 words per member )

fake dating with boynextdoor by @eunandonly fake dating trope, wc. 1.4k

#min mentioned .ᐟ

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mountaesan · 9 days ago

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hi guys !! i know i haven’t been the most active these past few days; plz forgive me, i’ve had a lot on my mind recently 😓

unfortunately, this is more of a serious post from me regarding the current political and economic climate of the US. i’m not sure how many of my followers are from the united states, but for those of you who don’t know, the HOR has just voted to pass trump’s big “beautiful” bill: a nearly 900 page bill including tax breaks for billionaires, tax and budget cuts—including cuts to medicaid which would consequently result in over 11.8 million americans losing access to healthcare—among many, many, MANY more frightening legislation.

in short, this bill is a death sentence to the american people and everything that we and our ancestors have fought for for the past 250 years.

the point of this very long and depressing post is to share my opinion on this whole matter and politics in whole—if it hasn’t been clear already.

fuck trump, fuck elon musk, fuck ice, fuck jd vance, fuck the trump administration.

everyday, i pray for the safety of my fellow immigrants, both documented and undocumented. i pray for gaza and palestine (side note: study conducted by a palestinian professor at harvard revealed that there has been 400,000 CIVILIANS in gaza who have “disappeared” since oct. 2023). i pray for everyone who is being affected/may be affected by the iran/israel conflict, i pray for those who are being impacted by the current administration of our country and their policies.

i pray for an america that is free and equal.

if anything that i’ve said has made you uncomfortable or upset at the people who are responsible for this mess, i plead you to utilize it and fight for our country. write to your representative, give them a call. pressure them. make them uncomfortable.

if anything that i’ve said has made you uncomfortable or upset at ME, you are more than welcome to unfollow and block me. your hatred and bigotry is not welcome on my page.

please, pray for america and continue to fight for what is right.

#min talks

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mountaesan · 12 days ago

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guys guys it’s 1 am right now and i’m lowk highk delirious but i’ve been binging suits for like 6 hours now

what if i made a 6-part series of lawyer!bnd for my upcoming 300 followers celebration . each part follows a member , who all work at some law firm and they’re all in the same universe . maybe not all of them are lawyers . some are paralegals , partners , associates , assistants , law students , plaintiffs , THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS

#min talks #lowk might not be a good idea to be putting this fresh idea out onto the world wide web #but that’s an issue that tomorrow morning me will be facing #right now i just NEED to get this idea out there #PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF UOURE INTERESTED

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mountaesan · 19 days ago

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JEALOUSY ! ──── lee riwoo

✩ ⋅ pairing. lee riwoo x gn!reader ✩ ⋅ genre. fluff, angst if u squint, university au ✩ ⋅ warnings. alcohol intake ✩ ⋅ wc. 1338

You met Riwoo completely by mistake.

It happened at the university gym, just outside the changing rooms. You stuck your key into the lock, opened the small door, and immediately froze. Your school bag, the one with the cute charms dangling off the zipper, the tiny plushie your friend got you was gone.

Your stomach dropped. These definitely weren’t your clothes.

You were about to march straight to the front desk when someone behind you cleared their throat. “Uh… I think you’ve got the wrong locker.”

You turned around, and there he was. A towel slung over his shoulder, hair damp from a shower, and an awkward smile. He held up an identical key and gestured to the locker you had just opened. “I think that’s mine.”

Turns out, the gym had bought a bunch of cheap locks from the same factory and the same keys could open many other locks. His bag was right where it was supposed to be and so was yours, one row down.

“Nice charms, though,” he said with a smile as you swapped lockers. “Very you.”

You’d never seen him before. But after that, he seemed to be at the gym every time you were there.

At first, the two of you only smiled at each other when you saw him. But your friendship slowly developed into casual conversation every now and then.

“I swear I’ve never seen you at the café before,” you laugh, squinting at him to see if he’s joking. “Are you sure you work there?”

Riwoo chuckles, leaning back against the bench. “I really do. Been working there since December, I swear.”

“Seriously? I go there, like, every week.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Guess I’m just unmemorable, huh?”

You scratch the back of your neck, suddenly a little sheepish. “Or I’m just really bad at paying attention.”

“Well,” he says, “how about this. I’ll gift you a free drink of your choice, if you come with me to Sungho’s party.”

“Wait, now I’m getting a little suspicious. Who is Sungho and why do I have to tag along with you?”

Riwoo lets out a laugh. “Relax. Sungho’s just a friend. He’s throwing this party, and I might’ve told him I was bringing someone cool so I wouldn’t have to stand around awkwardly sipping soda all night.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And I’m the cool person in this scenario?”

“Maybe.”

You try not to smile, but fail. “Okay, deal. How good are you at making a latte?”

He shrugs, but there’s also a small smile on his face. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

And now you’re here. Standing in the midst of a crowded party with Riwoo beside you. He looks completely out of place, fumbling with the plastic cup in his hands.

Then, suddenly, a small group of girls approaches. You recognize them, they'd been watching him for a while now, whispering, laughing too loudly. Of course they’re interested. How could anyone not be interested in Riwoo?

You hate to admit it, but in the short time that you had known him, you had grown to like him a lot. He is handsome, witty and a gentleman without even knowing it. The kind of person who holds the door without thinking, who listens and remembers everything you say.

“What’s your name?” One of the girls asks, the smile on her face sweet and flirty.

Riwoo is slightly caught off guard, but it doesn’t show on his face. Only you can see how he’s caught off guard.

“Riwoo,” he says simply, his voice barely louder than the music in the room.

The girls giggle, one of them brushing her hair behind her ear a little too slowly. You watch them talk, not wanting to leave his side. You tell yourself it’s nothing. He’s not yours. He’s just your friend.

But still, you’re jealous.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” another girl asks, her eyes practically glittering under the colored lights.

“Is it that obvious?” Riwoo chuckles.

They laugh again, and it rings in your ears even after they’ve stopped laughing. You're still smiling, but your fingers tighten slightly around your own drink. You look away, trying to find some distraction to your jealousy.

You turn away and walk towards the crowd, pretending to open your phone and text someone when in reality you’re just looking at the weather app. It’s easier than standing there, pretending not to feel the ache in your chest.

You don’t stop walking until the flirting and small talk fade away.

The kitchen is quieter and also the only place that is lit by a lamp. Someone’s standing in the corner, but you ignore it. You take a deep breath in.

It's stupid. You barely know him, but that doesn't stop the feeling of jealousy.

You pour yourself a glass of some random bottle that’s in front of you and take a sip of it. It burns a little, sharper than you expected. Maybe if you get drunk enough you’ll forget all about the fact that you’re at a party of a stranger. And that Riwoo is flirting with some random girls.

By the time you’ve emptied your second glass everything is hazy and spinning.

Your head tips back against the cabinet with a gentle thud. The ceiling spins slightly and you look at it to try and ground yourself.

You giggle at how ridiculous you are. Hiding in the kitchen like a sore loser, your only friend here flirting with a group of girls. You wonder if he even noticed you left.

Maybe you should go back out there and have fun. Forget all about the stupid situation you’re in and drink all your thoughts away. Instead you sink slowly to the floor, the glass still in your hand, your head resting back against the cabinets.

“Hey.”

Riwoo is standing in the doorway. He looks so out of place under the dim yellow kitchen, hair slightly messy, one hand still carrying that plastic cup, now almost empty.

He steps inside slowly, and stops until he’s just in front of you. You don’t look up to meet his eyes, instead you’re just staring at his knees.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Do I look okay?” You mumble with a crooked smile, eyes glassy.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he sets his cup down on the counter and crouches in front of you, elbows resting on his knees as he tries to meet your gaze.

“You disappeared,” he says.

“Why’d you come find me?” you ask, as you finally look him in the eye. He smiles, although his face still clearly shows his concern.

“Because I didn’t want to be out there if you weren’t.”

He reaches out slowly and carefully brushing your hair back. He doesn’t pull away after tucking the hair behind your ear, instead he uses the moment to take a good look at you.

His eyes search your face, tracing every part of it.

“You’re drunk,” he says, causing you to stifle a laugh.

You nod slowly. “You’re only realising now?”

You hold his gaze, your heartbeat suddenly loud in your chest. His hand drops down, but only so he can sit beside you, his shoulder brushing yours as he slides down against the cabinet.

“I didn’t like watching those girls talk to you,” you admit, the words falling out before you can stop them. You’re staring straight ahead now, afraid to meet his gaze after admitting your jealousy. What will he think of you now that you told him?

Riwoo turns his head slightly, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Why not?”

“Because I think I like you,” you say, voice barely audible. The words once again tumbling out of your mouth before you can think of the consequences. You shouldn’t have drank that much alcohol.

“Good.”

You turn to look at him, startled. He’s already watching you, his expression different, like he’s genuinely happy. It startles you more than anything else tonight.

“Because I think I like you too.”

#min's favs .ᐟ #WOOOHOOOHOOOHOOOOOOOO #that’s deadass the sound i made when i was reading #headcanon that riwoo told those girls off and said that y/n is the only person he’s interested #my shy little introvert i love him sm #also wet hair riwoo 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫#the way he casually flirts ‘i might’ve told im bringing someone cool’#ME ME PICK ME CHOOSE ME #“’because i think i like you too’#GYETTTT OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT #y/n go get yo mans #this is so cute i’m giggling and in love

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mountaesan · 20 days ago

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third time's the charm ; h. taesan

pairing. non-idol!taesan x reader genre. newly est. relationship au , fluff , chalant x chalant , taesan is down BAD synopsis. when you’re a little too tipsy and a little too in love, it sometimes takes a few tries to get everything right. luckily, the third time’s the charm, right? word count. 1466 words warnings. none? kissing but they’re both drunk but it’s consensual playlist. electric love by børns notes. cheesing like an idiot like this is ever going to happen to me

The low hum of summer crickets serenaded the quiet streets as you wandered aimlessly, shoes scuffing lazily against the pavement. Your bag dangled off one shoulder in a comical struggle to stay on, bouncing with every step like it too was tired of the night. The streetlamps blinked softly overhead, casting your sleepy figure in a patchy golden glow as the breeze curled around your body like a cool whisper, brushing against your skin and making your hair dance gently around your cheeks.

You paused, swaying slightly as you leaned dramatically against a streetlight for support, feeling the metal cool against your back. The night was gentle, the kind that felt like it had been dipped in honey—warm, unhurried, and laced with a kind of dreamy nostalgia. You breathed in deeply, the scent of asphalt and blossoms and leftover summer heat filling your lungs.

The echo of earlier laughter still clung to your mind—snippets of voices, clinking glasses, someone’s off-key karaoke rendition of a love song. You smiled at the memory, but it quickly faded into a soft groan as your head gave a tiny throb in protest.

With a dramatic little sigh, you rummaged through your bag until your fingers curled around your phone. You brought it close to your face, squinting one eye open as the screen flickered brightly as it illuminated your face. 32%. Perfect. Just enough to call him.

Almost like he had read your mind, the phone buzzed in your palm. And then—his name. And just like that, your heart, previously snoozing somewhere near your stomach, flipped up to your throat.

Still clutching the streetlight, you lifted the phone to your ear, the cool screen brushing your cheek. “Hello?”

The line crackled softly before his voice reached you like warm honey. “Hi… where are you right now?”

“Hi…” Your voice instinctively softened, a dopey little smile tugging at your lips. You closed one eye, trying to get the world to stop moving. “Hey. I’m, uh… in front of the café. The one where you asked for my number.”

“Really? Me too.”

You giggled, eyes sparkling. “Really? Then…” you dropped your voice to a hush, giddy and conspiratorial. “We should meet up. I miss you. Don’t you miss me?”

“Not anymore. Turn around.”

“Hm?”

You whipped your head around so fast you almost unbalanced yourself—but there he was, already walking up the sidewalk toward you, with his phone still pressed to his ear. Rushing toward you with such desperate joy, it looked like his legs might outrun his heart. The wind caught his hair, the streetlight caught the gleam in his eyes, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Haiii,” you waved both arms in the air like a doofus, grinning. He mirrored you instantly, waving back with a dramatic flourish like you were in some over-the-top romantic comedy. He skidded to a stop in front of you, cheeks tinged pink from the run or from seeing you—you weren’t sure which, but your own face burned to match.

“Hi. Did you have fun with your friends?” He was a little breathless, his chest rising and falling in gentle waves, but his gaze never wavered from you. You rocked gently back and forth, still clinging to the streetlight like a sleepy koala.

“Yeah, but I think I drank too much.” Your pout came naturally, and he responded by guiding you gently toward a bench tucked under a streetlamp. You flopped down onto it with a soft oof, the cool metal seeping through your jeans. He followed, sitting close enough that your shoulders nearly touched.

“It’s okay. I drank a lot too.” Silence settled like a blanket as he dug through his bag. You let your eyes flutter shut—just a second, just a blink—

A cold sensation suddenly pressed against your cheek and you yelped, jerking awake. Your eyes shot open to find Taesan grinning, holding a chilled can of coffee to your face like it was some kind of love offering.

“Jeez… you scared me.” you mumbled, blinking blearily. He laughed and cracked open the can before placing it reverently in your hands.

“Are you buying this for me? I’m so touched…” you teased, holding the can close to your chest like a precious gift. You both laughed, easy and breathless.

Then Taesan tilted his head, thoughtful. “Wait, this is kinda giving me deja vu. You know the last time when we went out drinking with some other friends and you and I both stepped for air at the same time? And we were super drunk?”

You squinted at the night sky, lips pursed in concentration before your face lit up with recognition. “Oh! Yeah! It kind of is deja vu, huh?”

“Oh, man. That was really funny. Do you remember? We almost ki—“

His voice faltered. Like the memory had caught up to him too fast. You could feel your ears warming up as you stared very intently at the cracks in the sidewalk. Taesan glanced away.

You cleared your throat, trying to rescue the moment. “I mean… yeah… We were—“

“Do you want to kiss?”

“—yeah, sure, let’s kiss.”

You froze. The words had practically sucker punched you. “Huh?”

“Do you want to kiss?” He said it slowly, deliberately. Your brain stalled, unsure if you were dreaming or just tipsy enough to hallucinate.

“What… what did you just say?”

There was a moment of stunned silence between you.

Then he groaned and threw his hands over his face. “AURGH, I must be going insane. I’m so sorry. This isn’t smooth at all. This doesn’t seem right but I don’t know how else I’m supposed to be going about this. Other people tell me that it comes naturally but how am I supposed to be natural at something I’ve never done before? I don’t even know how to—I don’t even know when the timing is right.”

You watched him spiral like a tornado in real time, his words tumbling out and spinning faster and faster as his fingers pulled at his hair and his foot bounced against the ground. And even through the dizziness, you couldn’t help but smile. He was just so stupidly sincere.

“That’s why I asked,” he mumbled. “If I can kiss you.”

Feeling brave (and just a little mischievous), you leaned in slightly, lips curled into a smirk. “What if I say no?”

He looked straight ahead. “Then I’ll respect that. And be very, very sad.” His eyes flicked toward you, mouth forming the tiniest of pouts. “You don’t want to?”

You let out a small, breathless laugh. “You’re so cute.”

“Huh?”

Before he could blink, you leaned in and kissed him. Just a short one. Sweet and soft and dizzyingly real. You pulled back and saw his eyes—wide, stunned, glowing like moonlight caught in glass.

“Th—there, we did it. We kissed.” Your voice was barely a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would break the spell.

“Y-yeah. We did. We did it.”

His hands curled into excited fists in his lap, knuckles pale from the effort of staying still. “Th—that was too fast. Wait. Can we do it one more time?”

You laughed, incredulous. “What?”

Taesan looked positively giddy. You placed your hands on either side of his face, the way you’d always imagined in cheesy dramas, and pressed your lips to his again.

“AH!” Taesan immediately whipped around, hands in the air like he’d just won a gold medal. “WHAT!”

You giggled behind your hand, eyes sparkling.

“Woah… I’m only saying this because it feels surreal, but can we try one more time?”

“You…!” Your laughter came out in full now, sparkling and unstoppable, and Taesan’s grin matched yours. This time, he leaned in first—shy, but certain—and your lips met again, softer, surer.

When he finally pulled away, just enough to see your face, his smile was dazzling. You leaned in to pepper his lips with a flurry of quick kisses and he burst into a laugh, breathless and radiant.

“Are you happy now?” You asked, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“Yeah.” He leaned back, his whole body buzzing with joy. “Can, can I just take a quick lap around here? This just doesn’t feel real—“

You laughed, waving him off. “Yes! Go, go!”

Taesan pointed at you dramatically, eyes alight. “Stay right there!”

Then he launched off the bench like he’d been lit from within. Arms flailing, he let out a triumphant whoop that echoed down the empty street. You watched as he sprinted ahead—skipping, twirling, throwing his fists into the air like a man hopelessly smitten.

You sank into the bench with a breathless grin, your fingers brushing over your lips like a secret only you two knew. Your heart beat fast, giddy and light, as though it were trying to chase after him.The stars above blinked knowingly as you sighed.

The air had turned quieter, softer somehow, as if even the crickets had paused to give the moment some room. You sat back, lips tingling and heart stammering in your chest, still tasting the ghost of his nervous laughter.

He stayed beside you, not saying a word, but everything about him spoke anyway—the way his shoulders relaxed for the first time all night, the gentle way his knee brushed against yours, the way he kept glancing at you like he couldn’t believe any of it was real. The silence wasn’t awkward.

It felt like something sacred, sealed in starlight and shared warmth.

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