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yi2huo · 1 month ago

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C'MON KEEP UP! ₊ university au 𐙚

𐙚 𓈒 𓈒 SYNOPSIS ) ; after a throwaway statement from heeseung, you can't help but notice your best friend jake in ways you've never noticed before. even worse, things get complicated when sunghoon gets added to the mix

PAIRING ) — college!jake x fem!reader ₊ fluff, humor

WC ) — 2.2k+

INCOMING MSG ) — ding ! i took a mini hiatus but i'm back !! i can't wait to post more this summer >< if anyone has any requests, feel free to drop them through asks ♡

“cute necklace, y/n.” heeseung drops into the seat next to you and you slide your bag over to the left to accommodate him. you lean your bag against jake who is sitting to your left, and he uses the opportunity to steal a sip from your drink.

with the professor already rambling away about quantum mechanics, you struggle to pay any sliver of attention to heeseung’s words as he continues to yap. “where did you get them from?”

muffling a yawn, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the star dangling from your neck. the sharp indents prick you back into a memory. “oh, these. they were a gift from a friend.”

“oh, a friend? or do you mean your boyfriend?”

you faintly hear jake choking on the drink but your attention is quickly stolen by heeseung’s words.

they’re throwaway, that much is obvious from his wandering eyes to his wide yawn as he pulls out his laptop. they shouldn’t mean anything yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."

he hums, raising an eyebrow as he spares you a quick glance. his gaze flickers somewhere behind you for a second and you would have looked too if his next words didn’t pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”

“my type?” your mind blanks.

“like what you look for in a person.”

“i know what a type is.” you quip back, hoping the playful hostility can hide your sudden surprise.

“then why do you look so disgruntled?” he turns on his laptop, ignoring the loud whirring that blares. “don’t tell me it’s someone like me?”

that causes you to scoff. “definitely not, i’ve known you since you were five.”

heesung continues to stare at you, pressing you wordlessly and you give in, finally surrendering more thought to his question.

"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good-looking? someone who’s… not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they’d have to be smart but not in a i-don’t-have-fun kind of way. like in a cute way." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humor, someone who will make me laugh.”

“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”

you chuckle quietly, muffling the sound as the professor spins around to glare at someone else talking. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”

“you'll always have me.” heeseung says, grinning.

“don’t be stupid.”

“or—hear me out—your type kinda sounds like jake.”

“okay, now i know you’re actually stupid.”

“come on, you two—”

your voice is a harsh whisper when you chide, “will you shut up already? he’s sitting right there!”

“you two have been friends for years.” he matches your volume this time, to your relief. “you’re telling me you’re friends with your exact type and haven’t felt any sort of way about him?”

you make a face and shove him playfully. you open your mouth to say more—a jab at heeseung’s own lovelife instead—when a piece of chalk cuts through the air and faintly skims past your nose. you turn back with a start and make eye contact with a very angry professor, his bald head shining in the light.

“is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

you let out a strangled squeak, sinking into your seat as heeseung chuckles beside you.

“no, sir.”

when the lecture hall finally moves on from your show of embarrassment, you turn away to pretend to busy yourself with your bag. when you come back up, positive that your face has cooled off such that you can almost look presentable again, your eyes accidentally meet with jake’s.

there’s an unreadable expression on his face, eyes wide and unfocused as he stares at you. feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, you quickly look away and sink down into your chair yet you struggle to completely ignore him. you watch from your peripherals as he looks away, sunghoon whispering something into his ear and chuckling though he seems to not be having it, swatting him away like a fly.

seeing his face made you think. maybe heeseung was right, didn’t jake match your type criteria? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and smart?

with a start, you look back at heeseung. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”

“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” heeseung chuckles. “are there any more?"

the professor slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.

your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and forced groupwork. your conversation with heeseung quickly slips from mind as you’re lost in the mountain of work.

when you enter the lecture hall the next day, you’re surprised to find jake already there and seated at the same spot. it seems like you’re the only two people there and you awkwardly take your seat next to him. you had arrived early to avoid the early morning rush but you wondered what his excuse was.

“good morning.” you mumble, flashing him a small smile. you take the chance to observe him, frowning slightly when you watch him push up his glasses as he continues to read a heavy chemistry textbook.

since when did he wear glasses?

his eyes flicker to yours as you unpack. “good morning.”

“what’s with you?”

jake clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”

your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my DS, jake i told you to take good care of it!”

“i am taking care of it! it’s fine!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”

“you sure?”

“i am.”

you narrow your eyes before looking away, turning on your laptop. “it better be. i need to run pokemon black on that. when are you going to finish using it?”

“soon. i’m almost finished with the elite four. my party is basically set, i was just waiting to finish an assessment before i grind it and…” he trails off suddenly, the animated look on his face fading. he clears his throat, pushing up his glasses somewhat clumsily. “i mean, if that’s what you wish i shall return it to you as soon as possible.”

you turn to him horrified. “so you did break my DS!”

“i said it’s not broken!” jake bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i’m simply being considerate.”

you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong? why are you talking like that?”

“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"

“hey, no need to get defensive. i’m just saying you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”

jake leans forward. “yes?”

“crazy.”

he falls back in his chair, groaning, textbook forgotten and placed harshly down on the table with a thud.

you tilt your head. “where's hoon? you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”

jake peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”

“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch jake mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.

he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.

you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favorite anime had delayed its upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with sunghoon, leading to this strange attitude.

the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to sunghoon’s usual behavior.

“are you trying to be like hoon?” you try.

jake whirs around to face you. “what?”

“well, you’re trying to be all, what was that word you used earlier? more considerate.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”

jake remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.

jake’s speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.

“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”

he doesn’t register your question. “you think sunghoon is well-mannered?”

“well, yes?”

“and calm?”

you nod. “at least more than you.”

“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”

the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”

“oh my god, you do.”

“no? i mean, i think hoon’s great and everything—”

“you think sunghoon’s great?”

“don’t you?”

“you think sunghoon’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think sunghoon’s great.”

"i didn’t say all of that! why are you putting words in my mouth?"

"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"

flushing, you flail for words. “are you… are you jealous of sunghoon? i thought you guys were past things like that!”

jake grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “i am not jealous of sunghoon.”

the door to the lecture room is thrown open and sunghoon steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and jake as you both watch him enter.

“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.

“nothing!”

“nothing.” jake says and glares at him.

sunghoon blinks.

“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”

“jake’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”

“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. jake, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”

"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."

"so i did do something. you're so predictable, jake."

you snicker as jake huffs and glances away, intent on ignoring sunghoon’s pestering.

subconsciously, you drown sunghoon out too, your traitorous mind observing jake’s eyes. you had always thought it was just a neutral brown, but looking at it now, it seemed more like amber dripping like honey, the chocolate hue sparkling and dimming as the lights flickered overhead, and you watched the light dance through his eyes.

something shifts and it’s not just the aircon suddenly turning on. something like realisation dawns on you though you have no time to come to terms with your new thought when jake turns to look at you. startled, you hold his gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.

you look away hastily and inhale.

jake glances to the front, oddly fidgety.

sunghoon looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”

“nothing.” jake says.

sunghoon clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was, and your realization is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.

jake clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”

at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns when you don't give him any other reaction.

your professor saves you from addressing his statement as he walks into the room. unlike every other day, you have no snarky comment to make about his radiant bald spot. your mind fails to work as you turn over jake’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?

slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with jake and the talk you had with heeseung yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.

did that mean…?

someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked sunghoon?

you watch jake’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.

seconds tick past. your professor’s monotonous voice drawls on and yet jake doesn't even spare you a glance.

no, maybe you were wrong after all.

just as you were about to face your professor again, jake’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.

oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.

jake has a crush on sunghoon.

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hsnlv · 7 months ago

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caught! | y.jw

pairing: boyfriend!jungwon x reader

teaser: “so, angel,” jungwon said, his voice dangerously soft, “if i’m your first boyfriend… how do you know how to shave a guy?”

others: jungwon is visibly manly in this one and im soooo in love w manly jungwon!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: have you guys ever seen tha clip from one of jungwon’s live where you can see his upper lips facial hair that started to grow?? BEAUTIFUL😵‍💫 this is defo inspired by that live keke😖 here’s my masterlist!

“baby, can you help me shave?” jungwon asked, handing you his razor with an expectant look. you couldn’t help but notice the faint shadow of his moustache, barely visible but still pricking his soft skin. knowing jungwon, he probably hated the sight of it—he always shaved at the first sign of facial hair.

you took the razor from him, smiling giddily. “of course, uwon!” hopping onto the bathroom sink, you faced him, legs dangling on either side of his waist. moments like this made your heart flutter—being so close to him, feeling his warmth, catching the faint scent of his cologne that you’d recognize anywhere.

“don’t forget the shaving cream,” he murmured, his tone slightly teasing.

“uwon, let me handle this,” you said confidently, reaching for the cream. he just arched a brow but stayed silent, his lips pressing into a playful pout as you carefully lathered his face. your fingers worked gently, spreading the cream over his soft skin, humming to yourself as you did.

you guys are this close whenever you do his skincare or face masks. and normally, jungwon would hum along with you or tease you for singing off-key, but today, he was strangely quiet. you glanced up, your brows furrowing. “what’s wrong?” you asked, tilting your head.

he wiped the cream from his lips with a tissue, setting it aside before his hand settled on your thigh, squeezing gently. the warmth of his palm sent little sparks through you, but his expression… something about it made your stomach twist.

“angel baby,” he said, his voice soft yet firm, a tone he rarely used. the way he said your favorite nickname made your heart skip, though there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—curiosity, maybe? you hummed in response, but your pulse quickened.

“you told me i was your first boyfriend, didn’t you?” he tilted his head slightly, studying you. his voice wasn’t accusing, but the question hung heavy in the air.

your heart dropped to your stomach. “uh, yeah��?” you answered hesitantly, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

jungwon’s brow arched higher. “then how do you know how to shave a guy?”

your mind went blank. oh no. oh no, no, no.

okay, to be fair, it’s not like you wanted to lie to him like that. but you clearly remember during your talking stage with him, he had said that he preferred a girl who was never in a relationship before, with the reason that he could show her how love is actually like.

“uh, well, i mean… i helped my brother before,” you stammered, trying to sound convincing.

jungwon’s lips quirked up ever so slightly, his fingers drumming gently against your thigh. “you don’t have a brother.”

“uh, my dad?” you tried again, forcing a sheepish smile.

“your dad doesn’t even have facial hair,” he countered, leaning in slightly, his tone dangerously soft. “and, if i recall, he’s bald.”

“im pretty sure it’s not much of a different if i shave myself…?” okay that was nasty but whatever it is to make sure he didn’t catch your lie.

“pretty sure?” his voice was too confident, it made your walls of lies crumbled down right upon him. your pout deepened at his chuckle.

“baby, just tell me the truth.” his hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“did you have a boyfriend before me?” his voice was gentler now, but the seriousness in his eyes made your heart race.

you sighed, your shoulders slumping as you nodded. “…yeah.”

jungwon stared at you for a moment, his face completely unreadable. you braced yourself for his reaction, but instead of scolding or looking upset, he laughed. soft at first, then louder, until he was clutching his stomach, his head tilting back.

“baby,” he said between laughs, wiping the corner of his eye. “you thought i’d actually care about that? seriously?”

you blinked at him, cheeks burning. “but you said—”

“i said i prefer someone who hasn’t dated before, not that i need it or care about it,” he cut you off, grinning at you. “you’re so dramatic. it’s adorable.”

you pouted, crossing your arms. “i just wanted to be perfect for you.”

jungwon’s grin softened, his hand cupping your cheek. “you’re already perfect, angel. even when you’re lying terribly.”

“it wasn’t that bad!” you protested, half-heartedly swatting at his chest.

“it was awful,” he teased, pulling you closer by your waist. “your bald dad? your imaginary brother? i almost wanted to let you keep digging just to see what else you’d come up with.”

you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “stop making fun of me!”

“never,” he said smugly, tugging your hands away to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “but seriously, baby, don’t lie to me about stuff like that. i hate liars. and, i don’t care who you dated before me. i just care that you’re with me now.”

his words melted away the embarrassment, leaving nothing but warmth. “i was just scared,” you admitted softly, your gaze dropping to your hands. “you told me you wanted someone who hadn’t been in love before. i was so in love with you, uwon, and i wanted to be everything you dreamed of.”

jungwon’s expression softened even more as he rested his forehead against yours. “you are, baby. even if you’ve been in love before, it doesn’t change the fact that i’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you now.”

you smiled shyly, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his sweater. “you’re not mad?”

“mad? no. jealous? absolutely. very much,” he said, fixing you with a dramatic, intense gaze.

“you’ve shaved someone else before me? wow, i feel so betrayed,” he added, raising his hands in mock surrender, his tone exaggerated just enough to make you panic.

“uwon, baby! i’m sorry!” you whined, your voice filled with guilt.

his giggle broke through the tension, and you glared at him with a pout. he leaned forward, booping your nose lightly. “i’m kidding, baby,” he said with a grin.

“you’re the worst,” you muttered under your breath.

“and you’re the best,” he shot back smoothly, leaning closer to nuzzle his nose against yours. “now, can we finish this? or are you going to tell me you’ve shaved some random celebrity next?”

“you’re so annoying,” you huffed, grabbing the razor again.

“and you love me,” he teased, his grin so wide it made your heart flutter.

as much as you wanted to argue, you couldn’t deny it.

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mononijikayu · 25 days ago

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it’s late already. you looked at the clock, it's already past midnight. the lights are off, but the room glows faintly with that gray-blue stillness only found between the last hour of night and the first breath of morning.

fushiguro megumi is asleep in the cot near the bed, curled up like a little bean under a blanket that keeps slipping off. the soft wheeze of his nose and the barely-there shuffle of his hands are the only signs of life in the silence.

you can’t sleep. not anymore.

you’re too tired to sleep. there’s a difference.

but that's just how it was, you think to yourself.

things have to be fair, after alll.

your body aches in ways you’ve stopped naming. the hospital smell has faded from your skin, but the bruises from the IVs still bloom purple and green along your hand.

your head is bald now, scalp soft and exposed, catching cool drafts from the window you cracked open earlier to feel something real. fushiguro toji is beside you in bed. awake, for once.

he’s always stiller than he looks, like a beast pretending to nap but listening for threats. but now, he’s talking. his voice low, slow, fingers brushing gently across the crown of your head.

"so....how about weddings?" you asked him, your voice low, too tired. you tried to make sure that it wasn't something he notices. "how was it like?"

“there was a wedding once when i was still there, well one grand enough anyway.” he says, humming. “back in the zenin estate. when i was a kid.”

you smile faintly. you’ve heard this one.

still, you let him tell it. it doesn’t matter.

you liked hearing him tell it all over again.

“it was some cousin of mine. third or fourth or whatever. rich pricks, you get me?” he adds with a dry snort. “everything was gold and loud. even the rice they threw looked expensive.”

your hand, the bruised one, is cradled in his other palm. he keeps tracing the inside of your wrist, slow, as if his touch could press something back in. life, time, luck. he keeps talking. you keep listening. somewhere along the line, it shifts.

“bride wore something stupid. feathers. like a chicken crossed with a geisha.” he mutters, and you chuckle, soft and tired.

"oh? and then? what else?"

“the mother of the groom, she was such a nightmare, baby.” he says, trying to be animated. “she was so dramatic. she wasn’t there. she missed her son's entire wedding!"

you hum, amused, turning your head slightly on the pillow. “what kind of mother of the groom misses her own son’s wedding? that’s ridiculous.”

he goes silent. completely. the kind of silence that isn't empty but full. swollen. stretched. you feel it first in his chest, how he stiffens against you.

his long fingers on your scalp pause. the ones holding your hand squeeze, too tight at first, then trembling. you turn your head toward him. you felt sorry for saying that.

“toji…”

his jaw clenches. you can’t see it in the dark, but you feel the movement, hear the breath catch. a drop lands on your shoulder. then another.

“shit.” he murmurs. and it breaks. whatever wall he had left in him buckles.

his face presses into the space between your neck and shoulder, and his arms pull you in like he could keep you here, keep you from slipping further, as if the right pressure could fight what medicine couldn’t.

you don’t cry. you’ve done enough of that already. you wanted nothing more now than to make sure you smile. that it was what toji remembers. what your husband rememebrs. you just lift your hand, your good one, and stroke the back of his head.

“i’m still here, baby.” you whisper. "its okay, don't worry."

he sobs, almost like a child. muffled. quiet. ugly in the way grief is when you try to swallow it down for too long. you press your forehead against his.

“tell me more, baby. go on.” you say, breath shallow but warm. “i want to hear more stories.”

“baby…”

“just keep talking. please.”

his breath shakes. he nods into your shoulder, then lifts his head, sniffling hard.

“i saw a buddhist priest trip once.” he whispers, trying to stop his voice from shaking. “during a funeral. landed face first in the incense burner.”

you giggle, even if it hurts. “what happened?”

“we all pretended we didn’t see it, but that man’s eyebrows were on fire.”

your laughter shakes the bed. his hand returns to your scalp, stroking slow, reverent. the kind of touch that wants to memorize what it’s losing.

just then, your beautiful megumi cries. not loud. just a soft, confused sound. the kind of baby cry that doesn’t ask for much. just presence, just your attention, your love. what's left of it.

toji exhales, getting himself together for a moment. he sits up and crosses the room in three strides. he carefully scoops the baby into his arms with ease.

“hey, hey. it’s alright, megumi.” he mumbles, rocking megumi gently.

the baby quiets a little, cheek pressed against his father’s shoulder. toji turns to you. “can i bring him here?”

you nod. “please.”

he lies down beside you again, gently, like you might crack beneath the weight of him. megumi is curled between you both, small fingers clinging to the fabric of your sleeve like even in sleep, your son knows something is slipping.

toji wraps one arm around megumi’s tiny body, holding him close. the other curls around your waist, fingers splayed carefully across the fragile place between your ribs and hip.

he’s holding you like you’re already gone. he's holding you like maybe if he keeps his hands there, keeps you bracketed in warmth and weight, you’ll stay.

your breathing is shallow. he’s memorized the rhythm of it—how uneven it’s become, how each breath pauses too long before it dares to return.

the three of you lie there, skin to skin. breath to breath. you shift just slightly. your weary, broken hand twitches, as if reaching for him in your sleep.

your eyes open, only half. and you smiled back at him. so faint it might’ve been imagined, if he didn’t know every curve of your mouth by heart.

“i love you so much, toji, my baby.” you whisper. your voice is frayed, breath threaded with pain. but the words come easy. as if you’ve waited your whole life to say them like this. “you and megumi... i love you.”

he breaks in a way that he had never done before. it was not in a loud, ugly way but in the way a dam breaks under pressure. quietly. inevitably. all too aware. his throat seizes.

“i love you too.” he says, voice hoarse. he squeezes you tighter. presses his lips to your forehead. “more than anything, baby. more than anything.”

your eyes slip shut again. this time, slower. like it’s safe. like it’s okay now. he stays there, still. frozen. waiting for the next breath. but it doesn’t come.

the quiet settles. not just in the room but inside him. something deep and final. he doesn’t shake you. doesn’t call your name. he just pulls you closer.

his arms around you, around megumi like maybe he can hold the moment long enough to undo it. but it’s done. it’s over. and maybe that’s mercy. maybe that’s love, too.

no, yes. it was love. it was love in another name, with no where to go. it was named grief. a love he was not familiar with just yet. a love that he doesn't want to be familiar with. not in this life. never in any lifetime.

he presses his forehead to yours, blue-green eyes shut tight. megumi stirs between you, lets out a soft sigh, then goes still again. fushiguro toji swallows a sob.

he’s crying without sound now, the kind of tears that come when there’s nothing left to scream about. he didn't want to scare megumi, nor alert him to a loss, a love he shouldn't need to live or know.

“no more pain, baby.” he whispers. voice cracking. shaking. "no more hospitals. no more needles. no more nights wondering if you're gonna make it to morning."

he kisses the space above your brow, slow, reverent. "i love you, i love you." he chokes, the words soaking into your skin. “i love you. more than anything,”

he stays like that for hours.

not because he’s waiting for you to wake up.

but because he doesn’t know how to say goodbye.

not to the only place that ever felt like home.

not when it was you.

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