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mimimimiaa · 4 months ago

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tune in to you ──── 한태산

pairing: music composer! taesan x radio rj! reader genre: opposites attract (extroverted sunshine character reader and socially awkward taesan), pining, secret identity, slowburn, fluff, workplace romance (kind of?) synopsis: taesan went by his days quietly, producing and composing tracks for television shows and films in the comfort of his studio at his broadcasting company. but one day, when he tunes into the radio show you hosted a few floors above his own, the opportunity to call in as an anonymous listener presents itself to him, and his curiosity towards you, along with his want for something more in life, all bubble over into a decision which he’ll probably regret later. word count: 10.1 k warnings: mentions of food, kind of loser taesan, reader is mentioned to be shorter than taesan

With bated breath, the young girl hides behind the kitchen counter, hand pressed tightly against her lips, praying to whichever god who could help her in this dire moment of life and death. However, her prayers seem to be disrupted by the shuffling footsteps behind her, followed by what could only be described as maniacal laughter. Each second seemed to drag on as all she could do was curl up her small frame into the marble kitchen island, hoping that the man who’d been after her for hours would not notice her trembling body and futile attempts to silence her ragged breath.

‘Come out little lamb, let’s play!’

The voice, shrill and wicked, rings through the large kitchen. It’s like her heartbeat has turned into an unsteady tune of snares. As his footsteps grow louder and louder, it’s like an orchestra of sounds has made themselves home in her head, buzzing in her ears. First comes the percussion, slow and steady, setting the beat, followed by, in all their grandeur, the strings, building up the tension as the laughter seems to move eerily closer to the shivering girl. Finally joined by the brass and woodwind, the music keeps blaring around the two figures, or maybe it was the rush of blood in her ears causing her to imagine things. The music crescendos. And then. Silence.

‘Peekaboo, little lamb!’

As the drum set builds up in intensity, his deranged laughter is the last thing she hears before the knife twisted into her abdomen slowly takes away the last of her shallow breaths.

Heaving a sigh of satisfaction, Dongmin takes off his headphones to let them rest on his shoulders, leaning back into his swivel chair as he stretched out his arms after a long day’s work. The deadline for the third episode of the drama series was quickly approaching, so he saved his draft and sent it to his superior to examine before it slipped his mind again.

Heaving a deep breath, he let his eyes scan the small studio that had become a second home to him in the past few years.

Being a music production engineer had never been Dongmin’s dream. He’d always loved music and sound in general, sure, but when he meant being part of the music industry, he meant singing, writing his own songs, and most of all performing, and being able to convey his emotions to thousands in the form of heartbreak songs and serenades.

But when his Soundcloud musician dreams slowly came crashing down, he never expected to end up cooped up in a little studio, barely knowing when day turns to night, composing the backtracks to movies and television shows that graced the screens of thousands nationwide.

But that’s not to say that Dongmin hated his job though, despite his scepticism when his long-time mentor and advisor Jiho recommended the post as his junior at the broadcasting company. In the past few years, Taesan had developed an innate appreciation towards the sounds and music accompanying each scene of any show, movie or broadcast; setting the mood and portraying emotions far better than words could.

Sometimes, it almost felt akin to magic; the way music was able to transform one scene from an adorable romantic scene between two inseparable lovers to one of chilling fright and unspeakable terrors, or even intangible and unbearable sorrows. In his own way, the job made him fulfil his dreams of touching the hearts of thousands, though not quite the way he expected.

But in the sanctuary of his little studio, surrounded by instruments and production tools, he had to admit that sometimes when the brain fog got to him, and his fingers seemed trapped on a single key of his synth, unable to think of the next, the days seemed to stretch infinitely and felt unbearably mundane. But that never became a problem for too long as the few friends he had made in his time at KOZ Broadcasting Corporation always found a way to make his days better. Speaking of them, they should be crashing into the room right about…

‘HYUNG!! YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I COVERED ON THE FIELD TODAY!’

As the journalism intern came tumbling into the room panting, catching his breath, Dongmin swivelled around in his chair, eyebrow perked up in mild curiosity at the younger who had already made himself home on the small sofa in the room, rambling about some poultry farmer who ended up accidentally releasing a hundred chickens into a highway, and about how he had to actively dodge a few to score an interview with the already frazzled man.

‘Oi Han Dongmin! I’m starving, can we please escape this cave of yours?’

Another booming voice that Dongmin had grown to recognise barged in, still in a smart suit after his evening news reading duties. Myung Jaehyun, an anchor, known and loved throughout the company for his never-depleting energy, sauntered in, kicking the journalist off the couch, causing a string of grumbles from the younger. As he watched the two go on with their usual antics, Dongmin shook his head with a sigh, although he couldn’t deny feeling grateful towards them for making his rather solitary way of life a bit more colourful.

After some more small talk about each of their days, filled with exchanges of complaints and stories, the three finally left the studio, making their way up to the top floor of the company, as they did every day, to join the queue of workers to get dinner at the cafeteria. As it was just another boring Wednesday, with most being too tired or too busy to go out for their meals, the cafeteria was packed, which left the boys hunting for a table after escaping the sluggishly long dinner queue.

As they finally found a table and cosied into their seats, another familiar face almost apologetically approached them with his own tray of food, asking if the extra seat at the table was vacant. Kim Donghyun, Dongmin had learnt with time; a camera operator at Jaehyun’s newsroom, and due to the crowded days at the cafeteria, a good acquaintance to the three seated at the table.

Basking in the bluster of the cafeteria and of the four similar-in-age friends munching away at their dinners, Dongmin allowed his mind to wander freely. His mind became preoccupied with the many deadlines that crept up on him; the ones for the new variety show didn’t seem to bother him much but the horror film set to release later that year seemed to be a bit more challenging. In the chaos of his thoughts he didn’t hear his name being called out the first time, and only with a snap of Jaehyun’s fingers did he float back into the present.

‘So Dongmin-ah, what’s going on with you? Your whole life still revolving around that studio, huh?’

The composer shrugged, not quite understanding why his friends seemed to have a problem with his rather quiet way of life. Sure, he never met anyone else other than his fellow production engineers and his few friends, and yeah, his studio was the only place he ever seemed to be at, but he never quite minded that. Not really. Or so he told himself.

‘Come on hyung, you got to get out and about more! Meet new people and stuff!’

The loud journalist exclaimed between rushed shovels of food down his throat. The quiet cameraman to his left nodded approvingly, ‘Maybe you should even meet someone new, spice things up a bit. How much longer will you cocoon your whole life into that studio?’

At Donghyun’s words, Dongmin looked up at him pointedly, only to be met by three pairs of curious yet teasing eyes. ‘Yeah Taesan, all these love songs and still no lover? That’s just sad.’ Jaehyun asks with a giggle, addressing him by his producer name.

Dongmin lets out a heavy sigh knowing that the three weren’t going to let go of this too easily. As they went on throwing tips at him on how to find someone he’d like and escape this ‘miserable life’ of his, he held on to that question;

How much longer would he live alone, in solitude, like this?

He wasn’t going to lie and say that the thought hadn’t caressed his mind before; the idea of being in a relationship, of not having to spend his days and nights alone save for the few minutes his tied-up friends would spare for him.

The days when the silence of the studio felt oddly hollow, and the pulsing cursor against his unfinished lyrics seemed to taunt him, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the what-ifs. But his friends were right, with the way he lived, knowing nothing but the comfort of the four walls of his studio, nothing would ever change. And he was never the outgoing type anyways.

He let this thought engulf him, tuning out the rest of the conversation and chatter around him, even as they all bid farewell to each other before heading back to the usual hustle of their lives, even as he trudged his way back up to the all-too-familiar room, and back to his seat in front of his screens. He dropped his head down to his hands, spinning about slowly in his chair. His friends had always made fun of his almost soulless way of life, yet Dongmin never seemed to pay any heed. So what was so different now?

Maybe his head was just muddled. Yeah, that must be it. He just needed to clear it up.

Reaching his arm across his work desk, past the stack of messily arranged papers, Dongmin reached for the radio that his father had gifted him when he first got the job, though he never really got to use it with his packed schedule. As he mindlessly turned the knobs of the device, fluttering through the different frequencies, his eyebrows bunched in confusion as he was certain he was doing something wrong as the studio was filled with the constant screech of the static.

That was until he heard it.

As the static dampened, making way for a much clearer sound, his ears perked up. It was melodic, he thought, the way your voice cut through the air, enunciating each word with a contagious sort of energy yet calming enough to allow him to grasp onto the tether of your voice among the myriad of thoughts that raced in his head. Your voice seemed to silence the static in his brain.

You weren’t a stranger to him though; being in the same company as him, hosting the late-night radio show a few floors above his own. Dongmin had often seen you clock into work just as he’d step out of his studio, surrounded by your colleagues, a radiant sort of joy engulfing your being, and everything and everyone you fluttered by.

It always felt ironic to him; how you were a late-night show host. For to Dongmin, you were like the Sun itself, basking everything in your light that felt akin to the rays of morning sunlight. It intrigued him more than anything else: how you always seemed to have a bubbliness to you that never ran out. How your lips always seemed to be curled up in a smile that could pull the world out of the darkest of times. How sometimes he was the one who felt exhausted just watching you bounce about the company walls, greeting every face you met on your way to the radio station with an almost infectious sort of felicity.

But that’s all he’d ever done. Watching you. For you confused him, maybe even scared him. For if you were the Sun, he was the Moon, with no light to give out of his own. He could count his friends with one hand, and there you were, chattering away with anyone and everyone you met, as if you’d known them your whole life.

But it would be a lie to say that your starkly different ways of life hadn’t piqued Dongmin’s interest just a tiny bit, but he knew all he’d ever do was silently admire your zeal from the sidelines.

You were the Sun after all, and the universe revolved around you, and he was only the moon, to watch you in all your brilliance.

As you concluded the final song in your setlist, lulling Dongmin out of the slight daze he had fallen into, voice still laced with the same radiance he had grown to look forward to, you introduced the start of the next section of your programme, ‘Tune In To You’ a section where listeners could call in to talk about their worries or ask questions to the RJ. Reciting the number of your radio station, you urged your listeners to call in, with your ever-so-compelling voice.

Almost too compelling.

Before he could think otherwise, his fingers reached into his pocket, fishing out his phone and dialling in the numbers you melodically repeated. As his fingers hovered over the blaring green call button, he hesitated. What was he doing right now? But almost as if he were in a trance, he shook off the voices in his head screaming at him to stop and went for it. He started the call. Well… it’s not like you’d actually pick up anywa-

‘Hello! This is Midnight Talkies! Thanks for calling in, could I please have your name, dear listener?’

Oh God.

As your voice echoed throughout the room, Dongmin froze. He didn’t think you’d pick up. And now he had no clue on what to do. As he began to aggressively curse himself in his head, your voice rang through the air again, laced with a twinge of concern this time.

‘Um Sir? Madam? Could you please introduce yourself for us?’

Taesan snapped back to the issue at hand, and before his head could process his actions, his lips began moving. ‘You can call me uh… Giant Mountain’

OH GOD.

Behind the mic at the radio station, you stifled a giggle as the name caught you off guard, looking up at the sound technicians on the other side of the recording booth who also seemed to have a difficult time remaining stoic at the weird name.

‘Right… Mr Mountain’ you say as Dongmin can feel himself cringe as he hears the name out of your lips this time, making him realise all the more how stupid using the nickname was.

‘So what do you have for us? Any questions or confessions for us today?’

Taesan stills. He has no idea what to say. Everything he’s done in the past few minutes was completely on a whim and now he’s bearing the consequences of it all. Yet, even in this moment of chaos, your voice grounds him. And the first thing he can think of flits by his lips.

‘Uh… That song you just played? Wonderwall? I really like it.’ He says, almost dumbly.

As he braces himself for your obvious confusion and judgement for his out-of-the-blue statement, you do it again.

You manage to surprise him yet again.

‘Oh my god! You like Oasis? I love them too! I adore the chill vibe they have with their classics, I had even personally asked for this song to be in tonight’s setlist!’

Dongmin blinks in astonishment. He did not expect you to agree with him, let alone like the band he had spent years obsessing over. Having endured hours of bullying from both Woonhak and Jaehyun for his mild obsession with the English band, he couldn’t stop his heart from somersaulting at your agreement.

And before he could stop it, the music nerd in him took over, talking about the intricacies of the baseline and how the emotional tone of the lead singer’s voice made people feel calm yet still held that rich depth of rock music, you subtle hums of agreement only urging him to go on.

As he rambled on, behind the mic, you couldn’t help but be intrigued at the passion of the man on the other end of the line. He certainly sounded like he knew what he was saying and the way his voice resonated with excitement over being able to talk about something he’s so passionate about was endearing. This Giant Mountain guy, whoever he was, was kind of… adorable. And you couldn’t help but let out a giggle at that thought.

Dongmin paused. As he heard your soft laughs from across the line, it was like his heart stilled. If he could bottle up that sound and get drunk off of it every day, he knew he’d be a goner in no time.

And before he knew it, the two of you were animatedly discussing your favourite bands and as he hears you talk about your favourite Radiohead album, Dongmin thinks you couldn’t be more perfect than he already thought you were. But as the allocated time for your call comes to an end, with your exuberant voice, you wish him good night, moving on to the final ment before you sign off and pass it on to the next host.

As the call ends, and the silence fills his studio again, Dongmin can’t help but miss the sound of your voice bouncing around the walls. The silence feels heavier than usual as his actions finally sink in and it all hits him at once; embarrassment, shock and even… elation?

Though this might have been the dumbest thing he’s done in years, Dongmin knows one thing for sure, this won’t be the last time he calls in to you. If he’d get to hear your voice once more and talk to you the way he did tonight, just once more, maybe the embarrassment of being known as Giant Mountain didn’t matter all that much anymore.

Back at the radio station as you stepped out of the recording booth, you were met with the teasing smiles and laughs of your colleagues as the last call of the night had everyone intrigued. Despite your usually bubbly personality, it was rare for you to be so into a conversation the way you had been with… Mountain man. And your colleagues also seemed to catch on. Yet as you brushed away all their remarks with a sing-songy goodbye, you couldn’t stop the small smile playing on your face as you thought of the nervous yet interesting persona you had met today. Even if it was only just a voice.

Dongmin was sure the universe had a personal vendetta against him.

Only a day had gone by since that fateful night of questionable decisions that he could not take back. Not that he regretted it all that much, honestly. With the way he moved with a slight perk in his steps or how even the broken coffee machine in the break room couldn’t dampen his exuberance, it was safe to say that his little late-night talk with you had made the usually indifferent man giddy with joy.

Nothing could take him down from this high horse.

Or he thought.

‘So I’m sure you’ve heard of our company’s radio show Midnight Talkies? They’re renewing for a new season in a few months so we’ve been tasked with creating a new jingle for them: something catchy but still bringing in the chill late-night atmosphere. And since Sungho and Minji both have three other projects to work on, I’m sure you’ll be fine with this? It’s not anything too difficult anyway’

As he slowly trudged out of Jiho’s office. He wished for nothing more than the ground beneath him to open into a gaping hole and swallow him whole. He usually loved working for something commercial like jingles and such, but with last night’s events, which at the thought of still left the back of his neck flaming with slight embarrassment, your show was probably the last thing he wanted to work on.

And things didn’t get any better when your superior suggested having you, the host, come over to review some ideas on how to make a catchy tune that would convey your show’s essence.

Too soon.

But you wouldn’t catch on, would you? After all, he was just another voice you met on your show. Even though it was everything to him, he knew that the short interaction between the two of you was entirely trivial to you.

As you walked your way down to the sound department’s floor, a few flights of stairs down from your own, your eyes scanned the open area as large pieces of equipment were scattered around, making way for a hallway of rooms with their doors shut tight, barely any indication of life within them.

Those had to be the studios.

As you walked past each door, hoping to somehow miraculously end up in front of the right one, your steps came to a halt at the door in the far corner, adorned with a wooden sign.

TS.

This had to be the one right?

Hesitantly, you brought your knuckles up to the door. One knock. And… nothing.

Once again your hand meet the door, three knocks, this time. Still, only silence greets you.

Maybe he wasn’t in.

Just as you were about to turn on your heels and leave, you hear the lock click open, and soft amber light seeps through the crack, only obscured by the shadow of a rather tall man with messy tousled hair sitting haphazardly over his forehead.

‘Come in.’

As you bashfully walk into the small studio, your eyes scan your surroundings with gnawing curiosity, trying not to meet the intense stare of the much taller man in front of you. Along with many sound equipment you wouldn’t even try to name, were instruments arranged neatly against the wall, a few guitars, a keyboard, and some percussion for his more intense work. As your eyes trailed up to the walls littered with band posters and album covers, a true testament to the owner’s passion for music, your eyes couldn’t help but catch a rather familiar sight.

‘Ooh (What’s the story) Morning Glory? I love that album!’

At your mention of the Oasis album, Dongmin’s eyes which were deliberately watching your every move shot up to meet your own, widening slightly. As your eyes locked with his, almost as if you were trying to extract his deepest darkest secrets, he knew it was all over. You’d figured his rather dumb secret out and you probably thought he was the biggest weirdo known to mankind.

But instead, he was only met with a quiet laugh from you, almost contemplative. ‘You know I could have sworn Oasis wasn’t that popular here, but lately, I keep hearing about them. I’m not complaining though, they need more recognition’

With a smile on your face, you settle down on the sofa, coercing him to take a seat too. Dongmin lets his gaze follow you once again, as you bounce one knee up and down, waiting for him to break the silence that was slowly clouding over the cramped room. He heaved a sigh, mainly of relief as he settled back down into his chair. He needed to get a hold of himself if he wanted any chance of his secret still only being his to keep.

‘Okay, so what kind of vibe do we want to go for?’

You’d been in his studio for hours already. Or maybe only minutes had passed. Dongmin could not tell.

As he played you one sample after another of jingles and random sets of beats for you to gauge what met your fancy, you’d constantly quip up with what you liked and what you didn’t about each one, which helped Dongmin narrow stuff out. He admired the way you clearly knew what you wanted, despite your lack of knowledge about the technicalities of it all. He liked that about you.

Sometimes you’d laugh at a funny tune or even pop a joke or two which eased the initial tense silence between you two into something much more comfortable. Even Dongmin, who was infamous for his reservedness, couldn’t help but join in with small remarks and soft giggles here and there, as your energy and good spirits almost felt like it was infectious.

Yet, as you had been the object of his keen watchfulness for years, after having grown used to eyeing you from afar for all this while, having you seated less than an arm’s length away from him, actively conversing and interacting with him was rather unnerving. Every time you’d casually compliment him for a well-made tune or jingle he’d feel his heart clench just a bit, warmth blooming within its walls, spreading to every part of his being, even if he tried to curb it.

But despite the rush of his nerves and the tingliness about his fingertips as they moved around the mixboard, as your gaze seemed to burn into his back while his own was glued onto his work, he had grown fond of the serene air that hung between the two of you, almost as if this was how it was always supposed to be.

Until a small buzz chirped from your phone, breaking the tranquil, and with it indicating that it was time for you to leave. Dongmin was probably imagining it, but he could have sworn that you looked like you hated to leave the cosy studio just as much as he wanted you to stay. Trying not to let his despondency be too obvious, he wished you a quiet goodbye, wishing you luck with the night’s radio broadcast.

But your next words seemed to raise his spirits a bit, ‘It was so fun working with you today Taesan, you wouldn’t be free the same time tomorrow, would you? I’ll research some lyrics to add in with the catchphrase so that it sounds good too!’

Agreeing with a bit too much enthusiasm, Dongmin watched as a soft smile graced your face, as you waved him goodbye, closing the door to his studio gently. Before he could stop it, a similar smile mirrored on his face, as his eyes stayed fixed on the same spot that you, with all your radiance, had just left. That was until a familiar news anchor came crashing in through the same door, quick enough to notice the unfamiliar expression on his dear friend’s face.

‘Please, you should have seen that derpy grin on his face, I’m telling you, Hak, he so loves her!’

As the two friends, who he usually loved to death, giggled teasingly as Jaehyun continued to exaggerate what happened after you had left the studio, Dongmin sighed exasperatedly as they seemed to pay no heed to his convincing that it was nothing more than him finding you an interesting person to be around.

But despite all their teasing over his supposed fat crush on you, he almost found himself agreeing to their words as the thought of you and your time in his studio only made his heart flutter, your voice plaguing every corner of his brain like a record player that simply couldn’t be silenced. And he wanted to hear it one more time that night.

He knew it was a risky game, yet he didn’t seem to mind anymore as a faux sense of confidence surged through him. After hurriedly wishing his confused friends goodbye, he found himself rushing back into the studio, back into the certain comfort of the four walls he could call his own, once again accompanied by the radio, this time with the knobs tuned perfectly so that the moment Dongmin’s fingers flicked it on, the studio was once again filled with the warm crackle of your voice.

You were still putting on some familiar hits which soothed Dongmin’s slowly creeping nerves as he laid his head on his crossed arms, allowing himself to unwind after the eventful day. As the final song by The Carpenters came to a slow stop, you announced, once again in that same voice that hadn’t lost its vigour throughout the day, the start of the daily programme that Dongmin had been waiting for all day.

Almost like clockwork, he found himself dialling in the numbers, and waiting as the phone rang, this time much more hopeful to hear your voice on the other side.

‘Hello! This is Midnight Talkies! You’re live listener! Would you mind introducing yourself for us?’

Despite his nerves, a small smile dangled on Dongmin’s face at the sound of your voice, a surge of boldness filling him along with it.

‘Hello lovely, remember me from yesterday?’

As the smooth voice played through your earphones, your eyes widened in surprise, not having expected to hear the same voice that had been the object of your curiosity the past night, to call so soon.

‘Of course, Mr Giant Mountain, how ever could I have forgotten about you? So tell me, anything on your playlist that you’re dying to hear on here?’

‘Well, could you play And I Love Her by The Beatles? The song has been stuck in my mind all day, and I figured that I had to share it with my favourite RJ’

‘Oh I must say I’m flattered, Mr Mountain’, you say with a light laugh.

‘Is there any reason this song’s stuck in your head or do you just happen to be a hopeless romantic with good taste?’

‘Ha, I guess a mix of both? I think it has to do with its mood, you know? The soft guitar with the gentle vocals is just so melancholic, you know? It just makes sense, just like talking to you, Miss RJ’

Your eyes once again flashed upwards towards your coworkers standing outside the booth, stifling their giggles at the bold man on the other side of the phone. With a slight rouge painting your cheeks, you reply, ‘Mr Mountain, you certainly seem to be one for compliments, hm? So do tell, what do you find yourself doing when you’re not listening to me ramble or play music on the radio?

‘Hmm, mostly thinking about how to sound as cool as you do on air? Spoiler alert: It’s going abysmally.’

This time you were certain that the blush on your face had undoubtedly darkened as you respond with a slight laugh. ‘Well, I’d say it’s going pretty well Mr Mountain, you’ve got that whole “mysterious caller” thing going for you, it’s kinda cool’

‘Mysterious, huh? I’ll take it, especially if you think it’s cool, pretty. But don’t get too curious, Ms RJ, I met just lose all reins and ruin the facade’

‘Oh, now you’ve got me on my toes. Well, how about this, next time you call back, you tell me a little something about yourself, Deal?’

‘Hmm, deal, but only if you’d play something by The Smiths next time, we got to keep this retro romance theme going, no?’ Dongmin says, intrigued by your curiosity towards uncovering his little persona.

‘Ooh, we’re doing themes now, huh? Alright then, Mr Mountain, just for you, And I Love Her is up next, thanks for calling in – and don’t be a stranger, yeah?’

With a lingering smile, ‘Wouldn’t dream of it, talk soon and goodnight Miss RJ’

Dongmin had fallen into a comfortable rhythm the following few weeks. Despite both of your busy schedules, your face at his door was something that had become quite frequent in his days, the two of you making significant progress in moulding the short jingle to be exactly what you had envisioned for your show. Dongmin had started to look forward to your visits, as his initial awkwardness around you had melted away into something much softer, your presence, a gentle light in his dull life.

Sometimes the two of you would even bump into each other outside the dingy studio, sometimes in the cafe near the company, where Dongmin had graciously bought you a cup of coffee despite your reluctance, that you gratefully sipped on as the two of you busked in the comfortable silence that had been a staple during your times together.

Another was when Dongmin had been waiting quietly by the elevator, his figure lost among the many others waiting, some tapping their feet in impatience, others caught up in their conversations, as he simply observed his surroundings, an earphone bud dangling from one ear.

That was when a bright voice shot from across the concierge, one that he recognised far too well.

‘Taesan!!’

Your bubbly figure bounded up to him as you waved hello at the quiet man clad in all-black, whose eyebrows had perked up in surprise. Yet, as he finally got over your genial greeting, a smile graced his face as he politely greeted you back, the two of you falling into small talk, the people around you all melting away as a soft bubble seemed to envelop the two ever-so-different souls, as you were sucked into a world of your own.

In your absence, it was almost as if Dongmin had begun waiting for you to pop out behind some wall or door; hoping to run into you some way or the other. But he never had to wait too long as every night, his calls with you had become part of his routine, and you too couldn’t deny that it was something that you had looked forward to.

Every night, your mystery man would call in, making you perk up in unconcealable excitement as you fall into your usual conversation, sometimes about music or sometimes about your days, where he’d reveal certain bits and pieces about himself that never were too specific to give out his identity but made you feel like you had started to get to know him more. And along with the bubbling curiosity about your frequent caller, you also would be surprised by the man’s blatant flirting with you.

It started small, but with time, it slowly built up into less-subtle compliments and double entendres that had you, the ever-professional RJ melting into a mess, a constant blush decorating you as you went on about your daily calls with this mystery man who you had grown unbearably inquisitive about.

Your colleagues at the radio station had also caught onto your flustered behaviour with this one specific listener and you had become the victim of their relentless teasing. But despite furiously refusing all their joking remarks, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth bloom in your chest every time your mystery man became the topic of your conversations.

However, it wasn’t just your coworkers who had become fans of your undeniable chemistry with the voice you looked forward to every night. Many listeners of your radio had also written into the station, flooding in messages about the two of you.

With you growing bolder with your Mr Mountain, often you play into the flirtatious tension you have with the man, requesting one of your favourite love songs by the Cure, dedicating it to a special someone,

‘This one’s for the voice that keeps me company here even on the darkest of nights’

Needless to say, this puts your listeners in a frenzy, blowing up the station’s social media page with questions and comments about the two of your will-they-won’t-they type of chemistry.

And despite considering the whole interaction as an entertaining and elaborate joke, you couldn’t help but boil over in desperation to find out who this enigma was, subtly trying to pry for details every call, but despite his laidback persona, Giant Mountain was ever-so evasive, preferring to keep the mystery and curiosity alive.

Some days, you’d clock into work to be pleasantly surprised by little gifts sent by the same mystery man. Once it was a vinyl record of your favourite album, and another day it was your favourite coffee order, that you simply couldn’t wrap your head around how he had figured out. But everything was always signed by a short but sweet note:

‘With Love, G.Mountain’

One thing was for sure, you were going to figure out who this man, who seemed to know a lot more about you than you did him, was. You tried to tell yourself that it was just your natural curiosity taking over, but you knew that the real reason was something else. Something else, given the circumstances, felt a lot harder to justify.

Dongmin was certain that you would never figure him out.

It had been just over two months since you had started working with him on the programme’s jingle, and today would mark the final session for touch-ups. The two of you had grown a lot closer during this short time, spilling little bits and pieces about yourselves during the conversations that flowed like water between you. Yet, despite all the redundancies between him and his vocal persona, you never seemed to catch on to him.

However, he could not help but be grateful for your obliviousness. His strongly built walls had started to crumble slowly in your presence, and Dongmin himself discovered a side to him that he did not know existed—a much brighter and talkative version, one only you seemed to bring out on air.

He couldn’t understand where the sudden boldness he found himself exuding came from, but he didn’t hate it; it felt like having two personas he could alternate between when it came to you. But now that your time together working on the jingle would be coming to an end, he could not stop the sinking feeling from settling down into his heart at the thought of not being able to see you as often as he did now.

Dongmin’s friends had also noticed his peculiar affection towards you and the way that he seemed to melt in your presence or bashfully talk about his time working with you in the studio. They’d begun teasing and throwing jokes about his ‘loverboy era’, but mainly, urging him to make a move before the chance got away.

But it all seemed too difficult for Dongmin. As ‘Giant Mountain’, he was simply a voice, a persona with no face or human responsibilities, and the flirtatious personality came with no repercussions. Yet as Taesan, a well-renowned producer and someone you would keep seeing around in your time at the company, making a move felt far more burdensome.

As the afternoon sun just started to subside, a much calmer warmth being cast over the city, Dongmin heard the three familiar knocks that had his heart stutter for a beat, and his ears perked up like an excited puppy. As he craned his head back, your figure met him, your face lit up in a shy yet gleeful smile as you waved hello, making your way to your designated spot on the couch.

‘So I took the little notes you had into consideration, and I have what I think is the final version of the intro… You ready to hear it?’

Dongmin asked, a curious smirk curling up the corners of his mouth. Your eyes sparkled in excitement as you quickly nodded. Taesan scrolled to the play button on his screen and clicked it. Then, he leaned back in his chair, slightly swivelling around so that he was angled towards you.

As the light melody started to pour through the speakers, filling every corner, the upbeat yet chill tune had you nodding along to every beat as you absentmindedly closed your eyes, vibing along to the music.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes were observing every movement of yours, analysing how you reacted to the piece he had spent hours trying to compose and perfect. And seeing you completely immersed in it, enjoying every second was the only reward Dongmin could have asked for.

As the jingle wrapped up with a whisper of the station name, your eyes fluttered towards Dongmin’s expectant ones, as he patiently waited for your final verdict.

‘Taesan… It’s perfect, it’s everything I wanted!’

You exclaimed, your eyes crinkling into a smile, as Dongmin’s face mirrored the same expression as yours, as relief and joy washed over him at your approval.

‘Well, I’m going to send this over to my head, and well…this is it then, huh?’ He asks as a much more solemn mood settling into the studio.

As the realisation that you wouldn’t be seeing the quiet producer around as much, sunk in, something shifted in you. Despite his composed and oftentimes cold exterior, you had grown quite fond of Taesan, with the way he’d joke around or tease you for your obliviousness when it came to music, or the way he’d listen with utmost attentiveness when you’d wind up rambling about one thing or the other, and even chirp in with remarks or soft giggles.

It felt like you had access to a softer side of the talented producer that not many others had the opportunity to witness. And you liked that. And you couldn’t help but feel sorry that the short time you had with Taesan had already come to an end.

As the two of you worked with packed schedules, you could only promise to treat the composer to a meal since you had to leave to prepare for your show with the programme’s producer. However, before you departed, you fished out a packet of Ferrero Rocher from your bag—your favourite, as you mentioned while handing it to the stunned man—as you hurried out of the studio that you were certain you would miss.

Wrapping up the script overview, you walked into your recording studio, putting on the snug pair of earphones as you waited for everything to be set and rolling. As the large ‘ON AIR’ sign blared a bright red, you fell into a comfortable pace that you did every night, expertly greeting your dedicated listeners with the lively voice that many around the country had grown to love and adore.

Soon, you’d reached the segment that you had admittedly been anticipating the most, as you often found yourself doing these late nights, and as the sound of someone joining the broadcast played, you sat up straighter, only for the silky smooth voice on the other end to be one you recognised immediately.

As you finished up the initial greetings that the both of you had gotten used to, Giant Mountain started the conversation with the usual sort of flirtations that had your eyes rolling in mock disbelief but always left a smile lingering.

‘Hey Miss RJ, I must say I’ve missed your voice’, he starts with a playful tone.

‘Mr Mountain, my favourite caller, I was wondering if you’d remember to call in today, but you never fail to do so, hm? So tell me, what’s on your mind today?’

‘Woah, forget about you? How ever could I do that? Your voice is practically the soundtrack to my nights, I’d say it’s hauntingly good, but I wouldn’t want to scare you away now, would I?’

‘Hauntingly good, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment… But do say, if I’m the soundtrack, does that make you the lead vocalist or the backing vocals to accompany my melody?’

‘Hmm, maybe I’m the fan who admires from afar, knowing every lyric by heart? Oh! Talking about the heart, I fear I have a question for you, Miss RJ’

‘Uh-oh, that sounds serious. What’s up, Giant Mountain?’

‘Not serious, just… thoughtful. Valentine’s Day is coming up real soon, and I was wondering what our lovely RJ has planned for the special day’

You raise an eyebrow at the sudden question. Valentine’s was a day you never had much to look forward to as you had spent much of your youth trying to get somewhere as an individual, and despite your incredibly outgoing nature, you never quite found someone to spend the cheesy, yet romantic day with.

‘Hmm… Nothing much, Mr Mountain, having my wonderful listeners by my side along with some sweet music is more than enough company for the day’

‘Well, that sounds nice… But what about something to spice it up, maybe you’d like a surprise?’

As you often found yourself doing during these calls with your Mr Mountain, you glanced at the staff working at the controls, exchanging a surprised expression for their amused ones.

‘A surprise? I don’t think I caught on to what you mean… How will you surprise me while on call, Mr Mountain? I mean we haven’t ever met and I can’t imagine a surprise in any other way?’

‘Getting curious now, aren’t we Miss RJ, well, don’t worry too much about it. And while we’re on the topic of surprises, you wouldn’t mind playing “No Surprises” by Radiohead in today’s setlist now, would you? And for a clue of sorts, let’s just say… I’m a lot closer than you think I might be, so maybe you really shouldn’t be too surprised.’

‘Well, it’s hard not to be curious with you, Mr Mountain, you’re the only one who keeps me on my toes, and I really don’t know what I’ll do with that last cryptic part, Mr Mountain, I fear it’ll keep me up for nights. But while I immerse in that thought, here’s ‘No Surprises’ by Radiohead, and I hope to hear from you soon, Mr Mountain.’

You weren’t entirely wrong about his words keeping you up for nights.

From his words, it felt like Giant Mountain was hinting at you knowing him, in real life. The more you thought about it, you couldn’t help but feel something familiar about the husky voice which accompanied you for so many nights.

In the way he talked, and the way he let out breathy laughs at a joke, or even the steadiness that wound about every word he uttered, there was something about the man that you recognised but could not pinpoint what.

As the days to Valentine’s Day ticked by quickly, you grew more inquisitive about Giant Mountain’s words and well, the man himself

But with the way the man evaded each one with his usual laid-back nonchalance, you found yourself being driven to the edge of your patience and curiosity.

Soon, the day you had surprisingly found yourself waiting for had finally arrived: The day to celebrate love.

Though you were put on edge the entire day, a part of you was slightly hopeful that the mystery man who you admittedly had grown a soft spot for would do something like he’d said he would, although you knew that it was greatly unlikely and just something he ended up saying in the spur of the moment.

And you were proven right, as the day went about just as it always did; with you clocking into work and being greeted with the day’s work, today being a bit heavier than the rest due to the special occasion. As you let yourself be consumed by your work, Giant Mountain and his words were soon pushed to the back of your mind, their blaring presence in your head being replaced by more pressing matters.

Soon, night had fallen and it had already become time for your daily show to begin. Despite the usual cheerful and lighthearted greetings you exchanged with everyone at the station, you couldn’t help but feel a certain heaviness loom in your heart. Although you knew it was stupid, you had ended up being hopeful, looking forward to a stranger’s words despite never having met them, or knowing anything about them at all.

It made you think, did you end up attached to the man behind the ridiculous pseudonym?

With his often shy demeanour, that would be quickly contradicted by his smooth words that had your heart fluttering, leaving you flushed despite your poor attempt at trying to resist it, did you really end up wanting more from this unlikely relationship with… what you only knew as a voice?

You knew it was a dangerous path to thread, and honestly an unlikely one too. The chances you’ll ever get to know more about this Giant Mountain man were not too high, and the more you thought about it, you were probably just a medium to keep him entertained; his flirtatious attitude just a fleeting game, a way to pass the time in the vast, lonely expanse of the night.

As you finished your final preparations before going on air, you couldn’t stop the thought from blaring about your head: Did he ever, even once, care about you in the way you had inevitably found yourself caring about him?

You couldn’t allow yourself to dwell on this thought for too long as the ‘ON AIR’ lights flickered a blaring red, your voice now being broadcasted around the country. Refocusing your thoughts back into your work, you greeted your dedicated and loyal listeners once again with your signature lively voice.

The night went by smoothly, with the setlist leaning towards the romance genre, starring many iconic love songs that your listeners had called in before dedicating to their loved ones. Though you swooned at the romantic gestures, you couldn’t help but not feel yourself despite the obvious abundance of love wafting through the air.

As the songs came to an end, the segment you most looked forward to came by, as slowly your hopes crept up higher, curiosity once again filling you as you wondered, maybe your Mr Mountain would find a way to surprise you during your daily call?

And so with raised expectations, you repeated the number to the station for the last time, waiting to be connected to your listeners, most importantly your favourite listener. Tonight, you had the time to entertain a few more listeners, so you started your calls with a sweet boyfriend who wanted to dedicate a speech to the love of his life on live radio.

Person by person, you found yourself spending the night talking to more people, listening to their unique takes on love and being loved, and while you found the common topic of the night to be endearing, you found yourself wishing that you were talking to a certain someone else instead.

But as your producer signalled the end of the final call-in of the night behind the controls of the recording booth, with no sign of Giant Mountain’s usual presence on your programme, a deep forlorness settled into the pit of your stomach.

Had it finally happened? Had he finally grown tired of spending the nights talking on your show? Did he finally grow tired of you?

As you pushed away the thoughts that now took full reign in your mind, you managed to wrap up the night’s broadcast with a cheerful tone that contrasted the inner turmoil you found yourself embroiled in.

Owing to the special occasion, the show had gone on for a bit longer than usual, and maybe it was the exhaustion of it all, or perhaps just the weight of disappointment that weighed down on you, but you couldn’t wait to get back to the solitude of your home and sleep away the weariness of the day.

As you wished your coworkers a drained goodnight, many had seemed to notice your apparent dejectedness, with Yunah even pulling you aside to ask if your usual bubbliness was replaced by this brooding energy due to the absence of Giant Mountain’s calls that usually had the whole studio giggling and teasing you.

But you quickly brushed her off saying that you barely even noticed the lack of his call, and that it didn’t matter that much to you anyways, to which you were greeted with a skeptical raise of her eyebrow. Quickly after, you packed up your things, waving everyone with a final goodbye. Despite your adoration towards your colleagues, tonight, you couldn’t have been more relieved to be left alone to your thoughts, as you slouched despondently against the insides of the company elevator.

Trudging your way past the entrance of the broadcasting station, your body a heavy weight to lug about, you take in your surroundings. The air is crisp, and the streets are quiet. You gladly welcome the serene peace the night offered, contrasting the muddled chaos in your head.

As you adjusted the strap of your bag, your eyes land on a lone figure in the desolate night, leaning against his car as he fidgeted with the ends of his sweater absentmindedly.

‘Taesan? What are you doing here?’

You were a bit confused. After wrapping up your show, it had already stretched past midnight and you were certain that the composer standing in front of you was supposed to have clocked out hours ago.

That was when you noticed the small yet gorgeous bouquet of flowers clutched tightly in his hand.

‘Oh! Were you waiting for someone?’ You asked, your curiosity piqued. It wasn’t surprising that the good-looking music composer also had a date for Valentine’s, although for some reason, the fact felt like another jab to the gut on this already upsetting day.

With a small nervous smile, Taesan finally looked up at you, eyes meeting yours.

‘Well yeah… I was waiting for you.’

Wait, what?

‘I told I’d surprise you didn’t I? Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss RJ’

Suddenly, it felt like the world had stopped. As you slowly start processing Taesan's words, you think you’re having an epiphany; with all the jumbled puzzle pieces that had been floating about in your head, clicking together in place, surprise and shock taking over you.

Giant Mountain… Taesan… Oh, it all made perfect sense now. And the near identical music taste from the days you had spent admiring the composer’s record collection in his studio? Now that it was all presented in front of you, you couldn’t believe how you’d missed to piece it all together when it was so conspicuously in front of you.

Your Mr Mountain had been right next to you this whole time, disguised in the form of a shy yet skillful composer you had grown a soft spot for in your time working together.

‘Wait Taesan… You’re Giant Mountain?’ You asked incredulously at the tall man in front of you, whose grin had grown wider at the sight of your obvious surprise at the revelation.

‘Guilty as charged. Though in my defence, I didn’t know we’d have to work together when I made the first call… if I had known I probably wouldn’t have done it, the whole thing was so risky anyways’, he replied sheepishly, his words trailing off as his gaze focused down to the ground.

‘Well, Giant Mountain, I’m glad the work offer came after you called in, I wouldn’t want to have imagined my nights without your company anyways’, you replied with a small laugh, causing Taesan to snap his vision from where he was so focused at kicking around the dirt around his feet, up to your eyes, surprise evident behind the shiny orbs.

‘But Mr Composer, all those calls… the flirting, the song requests… that was you the whole time? I will admit, you’ve got a lot more hiding behind the quiet studio-man persona you’ve let on, you know?’

Shuffling his feet, Taesan replied quietly, his usual unreadable stoicism replaced by an adorable shyness, ‘Well, I’d seen you around the company a lot, and I thought you were interesting… I figured if I couldn’t get your attention in person, I’d try my luck on air. And honestly, hearing your mesmerising voice every night after, it was impossible not to call in’

You felt a warm smile tugging at the corners of your lips. ‘You’re full of surprises, you know that, Taesan? Honestly, I still can’t believe I didn’t recognise your voice despite hearing it every day’

‘Well, I was trying to be mysterious. But I think the jig is up now. So…’ Taesan holds up the flowers in his hands, ‘These are for you. Consider it my way of saying thanks for putting up with the days in the studio and my late-night calls. And… if you’d like, you can call me Dongmin, Taesan is really just a stage name of sorts’

Taking the flowers from him, your hands briefly brushing in the process, you couldn’t stop the flush from blooming in your cheeks. ‘They’re beautiful. Thank you… Dongmin. But you know, you didn’t have to go through all this just to talk to me. You could’ve just… asked me out.’

Dongmin thought he could die happily when he heard his name slip past your lips. The same name he had spent his whole life hating sounded like the prettiest sound in the world. But shaking off the surprise, a sly grin spread across his face.

‘Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I wanted to make sure you knew how much I enjoy listening to you. Not just your voice, but the way you connect with people. It’s pretty incredible.’

You let the smile you were fighting off the whole time fully bloom at his words, your whole being warm and flushed despite the slight chill of the February night.

‘You know, you’re not too bad yourself. I don’t know many music composers, but I’d like to think that most wouldn’t go out of their way to dedicate ‘Fell in Love With a Girl’ to me during a nationwide broadcast’

Dongmin had shed himself of his initial nervousness by that point, his face adorned by a soft, genuine smile which you found utterly adorable. ‘Well, I’m glad to hear that. But does this mean you’ll let me take you out to coffee or dinner sometime? Even our cafeteria’s dinner is fine if you’re busy… anything is fine really… anything you want’

As he stuttered over his last words, you giggled at the taller man in front of you.

‘Of course, Dongmin, I’ll hold you to that. But only if you promise to keep calling in. I kind of like having my own personal mystery caller.’

‘Deal, but next time, you’ll know it’s me. No more hiding behind the radio persona.’

You let out a small chuckle at his words, ‘That’s great. Because Dongmin, I think I might just like the real-life version of Giant Mountain so much better.’

Taesan’s eyes radiated a soft warmth as you said the last few words, but suddenly, he straightened his posture, clearing his throat, as he moved to stand right in front of you.

‘Well, in that case, how about we start this Valentine’s Day over? Hi, I’m Dongmin. I work in music production, I’m terrible at talking to strangers, and I may or may not have been secretly crushing on you for months.’

Giggling at his antics, you took a step forward towards him, ‘Hey, Dongmin. I’m the host of a late night radio show here at KOZ. I talk way too much on the radio, I love cheesy love songs, and… I think I might have a crush on you too.’

His eyes scanning you with an adoring stare, Dongmin holds out his hand to you, a tender smile dancing about his boyish features, ‘Well, my dearest Miss RJ, it’s far too late for dinner, but could I perhaps interest you in some midnight ice cream?’

Reciprocating the warm smile, you take his hand. ‘Of course, Mr Mountain, ice cream sounds perfect.’

2 years ago

You leaned against the railing of your floor, cup of coffee untouched in your hands, as your eyes stayed focused on one of the corridors a few floors beneath your own, that the radio station overlooked.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen the familiar hallways of the music and sound production department, yet something, or rather someone, had seemed to have caught your eye.

But as you felt a presence loom behind you, your gaze quickly shifted to your coworker and close friend. Yunah shoved your shoulder teasingly, ‘Careful now, stare at him any harder and you might just burn a hole into his back’

You rolled your eyes dismissively at her words, though your eyes seemed to betray you, as they quickly flickered down to catch a glimpse of the quiet man who leaned peacefully against a pillar, headphones comfilly sitting on his head as he mindlessly bobbed his head to the music.

Despite his inconspicuous dark clothes and reserved behaviour, all your attention seemed to be drawn to the newcomer at the music production department; the calmness that danced about his face, his emotions unreadable.

But in the chaos of the bustling broadcasting company, the stillness of the stranger’s presence seemed to almost comfort you, and had spurred your interest.

You turned to your friend who had been studying your every past movement. ‘What did you say his name was?’

A knowing smile taking over her features, Yunah replies, ‘Taesan, I heard. He’s a new composer working for the entertainment department, you know, for the movies and shows KOZ is producing. I heard from Jongseob that he used to be his senior at school.’

‘Taesan...’ you let the name linger on your tongue. It was a pretty name.

Yunah nudges you once more, eyebrows wiggling up and down teasingly, ‘What? You have a thing for Mr Composer over there?’

As you watched the quiet man walk away, back into the shadows of the hallway, you softly denied with a hum, ‘No, he just seems rather... interesting’

a/n: omg first post?? honestly i've read some life-changingly good bnd fics on here to the point where i was dragged out of my writing slump, so woo? anyways, i hope you like this one, this one is dedicated to all the taesan songs i have saved from soundcloud hehe ^^

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miumura · 9 hours ago

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SOULMATE UNDERCOVER ⌕ TAESAN SMAU

016 — She’s right behind me isn’t she.

🗒️ NOTE — and it finally happened 😈

previous — next — masterlist

› SOULMATE UNDERCOVER TL ( OPEN ) ──── @haruharua @en-dream @nekotoni @nicholasluvbot @asteroidzs @kazukazukiiii @hollxe1 @niinaskrr @mochamvgz @koocreampie @onlyjungchan @ijustwannareadstuff20 @amarecerasus @banez @kekaekeke @jungwonbropls @uncasings @yoonzns @winteringdream @8makes1atom @heeheesang @liyaliar @jmclouds @eunandonly @stantxtforabetterlife @zclread @yuyita-rosier @enzstr @lov3lyaaru @hyunjinslongasslegs @nujeskz @starfallia @sfnctzen @raccooniniii @jvngw0nlvr @yvesrama @socollectionmoom @bbyinni @milktea-academia @letwiiparkjay @xngelsthesis @silv3rst0ne @astrae4 @prodkwh @anqelkoz @minisodelover @kaixlix @renisprobablyonthetoilet @w3willris3 @eternallyhyucks

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eunandonly · 3 months ago

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BOYNEXTDOOR WHEN YOU CRY DURING A MOVIE

i guess i sometimes get too invested in these fictional worlds ─── and it leaves me feeling . . . high and hollow

'𝐸 . bf!boynextdoor + fem. reader 810 · established relationship fluff reactions ୨୧ skinship, minor movie spoilers, tooth rotting fluff archive

은혜 : these dog movies be wrecking me oh lord have mercy ㅠㅠ movies get x10 sadder when it involves animals i can't be doing this

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

myung jaehyun

don’t worry about holding your tears in, because jaehyun is crying with you. how are you supposed to hold in your tears when the movie includes a dog and the undying loyalty between him and another character? there’s something about these dog movies that make both you and jaehyun so sad.

by the end of the movie, you and jaehyun are just hugging each other, sobbing into each other’s shoulders. jaehyun’s trying his very best to comfort you whilst he’s bawling, choking out “it’s okay, it’s okay” as he fumbles to find tissues to help you dry your tears whilst simultaneously trying to wipe away his own tears with his sleeve to no avail.

lesson of the day? hachi: a dog’s tale is not for the faint hearted.

park sungho

sungho’s hyper focused on the movie at first that he doesn’t notice when your eyes start to well up. but he turns to you in surprise when he hears a sniffle, asking, “wait, are you crying?” that sounds more concerned than teasing.

if you nod, he probably panics for a second, blurting “do you need a tissue? do you need me to pause the movie? should i-"

when you shake your head, sungho just rubs your back comfortingly, and ends up holding your hand and leaning into your side to listen and comfort you as you cry over kimi no na wa–they were so close to finding each other again. even though sungho thought he was fine during the movie, he finds himself staring at the tv screen with a strange feeling in him as he pats your back.

lee sanghyuk

riwoo picked to watch the green mile with you, since hey, it’s a classic, right? than he immediately regrets his choice when you start crying from the moment john coffery asks to not be in the dark. he asks if you want to pause the movie, and when you shake your head, he scoots closer to you so your head can rest on his shoulder.

riwoo holds your hand as you cry, trying his best to not cry with you because he knows you seeing him get teary will only make you sob harder. he sits through the movie with his jaws clenched, head leaned against yours as he checks on you from time to time, asking “you okay baby?”

riwoo’s devastated from the movie though, and he hugs you really tight when credits roll.

han dongmin

when taesan hears you sniffling as you two sit on the living room sofa watching a movie, he leans over to see if you’re really crying. when he sees your glassy eyes, he laughs and teases you, saying, “imagine crying over a movie.”

but when the tears spill over and you’re not just sniffling anymore but full on sobbing with your shoulders shaking and all as you ramble that “they can’t just forget each other like that’, taesan feels so bad and regrets making fun of you immediately. he’s quiet for a second, frozen in place as he tries to think of what to do. after a few seconds, taesan just wraps his arms around you and give you a hug. he lets you cry into his hoodie and pats your back consolingly as the final part of the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind rolls around.

kim donghyun

leehan notices right away when your breathing changes, even before the tears fall. your body language is enough for him to know that you're getting emotional.

he doesn’t really say anything at first, just gently reaches over to grab your hand and give it a comforting squeeze. but when leehan sees a tear slip down your cheek, he probably feels a bit guilty that a movie he picked is making you cry. he really thought i am sam was just a sweet father-daughter movie, but yeah, well, whoops! he’s patting your back consolingly from the first courtroom scenes but he starts tearing up too when sam says “all you need is love”. he probably hugs you first because the scene makes him so upset.

kim woonhak

another member who’s crying with you. except woonhak is trying so hard to hide the fact he’s close to bawling his eyes out–he’s got to stay composed in front of you. when he sees your watery eyes, he goes “oh noooo :((((“ before pulling you into his arms immediately. when you start sobbing, woonhak can’t help but cry too. it's always the movies with the animals that do it for you two.

you both spend the rest of the movie in each other’s arms until the end. woonhak gets really defensive when you point out he cried too, and pretends he was fine the whole time. but hey, there was no reason for homeward bound: the incredible journey to be as sad as it was.

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htaesan · 5 months ago

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　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ NOT THAT I CARE OR ANYTHING　　────　ᅠ ( han taesan )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your ex, seemingly sweet anton, spreads malicious rumours about you that could potentially ruin your entire academic weapon career, so you have to take desperate measures𑁋and that includes a fake-dating contract and the bane of your existence, han taesan.

　　　ᅠ 한태산 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 13k ⠀ genre college au fluff angst if you squint one sided rivals to lovers academic weapon x campus crush ⠀ contains mentions of food vulgar words skinship pet names several ocs ⠀ note i’m sorry if this fic is.. all over the place a bit coz,, yea!! but this fic is highly.. self-indulgent.. heheh! and i originally wanted to make this more angsty but i’m already sad and single so, No! anyways, enjoy reading ^_^ ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ ＞︿　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

“ALRIGHT. Let’s do it.”

As you gaze into Taesan’s determined eyes, the entire series of events flashes through your mind.

It was back in your first year of university—early winter, the day of the first snowfall. You were walking towards the three-floor library, the cold wind stinging your eyes. You rushed inside, grateful for the gush of artificial warm air that greeted you as soon as the doors closed behind you. The library was quite packed for some reason, and you could barely spot any empty seats.

You walked towards the edge of the library, a corner with the largest window of the level. There it was—one of the only empty seats in the entire library—but that seat was next to a boy, heavily occupied with his studies. Your pace slowed down as you hesitated. The boy had a focused blank look on his face, his headphones on, and several papers and notebooks were scattered on the table around him.

You felt like you wanted to just leave and go back to your room, but remembering how cold it was outside, you decided against it.

After taking a deep breath, you approached him. With a shaky smile, you tapped the boy’s shoulder, muttering a silent prayer.

“Excuse me,” you said as he lowered his headphones to his neck. “May I sit here? I-I mean, if it’s cool with you..”

He simply nodded. “Sure.”

You had sat down next to the mysterious boy for the entire day, not knowing that, in the present, he would be the bane of your existence.

In this moment, you’re brought back to the present, startled at how you’re standing in front of him. The mysterious boy that you had sat next to turned out to be Han “Taesan” Dongmin—KOZ School of Law’s campus crush. There’s almost nothing “bad” that you’re heard of him, yet, when you find yourself walking towards him with a fiery determination in your eyes—you immediately know that you’re about to get hit with something you’d never expect.

“A-are you sure?” you say, surprised to even find yourself stuttering. You’ve held yourself to such a high reputation—being your school’s academic weapon—you’ve worked hard to keep yourself true to that name.

Well, to be fair, you didn’t expect Taesan to even say yes to your ridiculous plan—given that all that’s he’s ever done for you is say everything that will get on your nerves.

Taesan gives you a smirk. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “Being the boyfriend of KOZ Academy’s academic weapon isn’t something you get to do everyday.”

The way he presses the emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’ makes you flinch. It reminds you of your stupid plan; who in their right mind would offer Han Taesan—your rival—a fake dating deal just to make rumours about themselves go away?

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I think we need to enforce some guidelines and boundaries regarding this… set-up.”

Taesan shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight to let himself stand more comfortably. The smirk still on his face, he replies, “alright. Hit me with all of ‘em.”

You whip your phone out, quickly showing him a document that you spent an entire night typing out—complete with every single thing he needed to do for you.

“Here,” you say, frustrated at how Taesan’s smug smirk just never falters.

Taesan runs a hand through his hair before leaning down to read through the document displayed on your phone. He finishes reading it quickly, taking a step closer to you after. He doesn’t say anything for a while, only to startle you by abruptly saying, “I agree.”

“What–?” you blurt out, surprised once again. You thought that Taesan would be more picky than–

“Your terms are easy for me to do. However,” you narrow your eyes at the boy who’s towering in front of you. Of course he’s picky—he’s Taesan. “I’d like you to agree to my conditions as well. If I have to do some things for you, you’d have to do some things for me too.”

You sigh before nodding. How hard could it be? Besides, this whole ‘relationship’ you’re having with Taesan is merely a fake dating set-up.

“Okay.”

Taesan whips out a full-blown smug smirk, making you roll your eyes. He pushes his glasses up his nose bridge, holding out two fingers.

“First, you have to also put in the effort to make things real. Like, wearing my jersey when I have basketball games, and wearing my initials ‘round your neck,” he pushes his middle finger down, the smug grin still plastered on his face, “and secondly, you’ll have to let me kiss you anytime.”

The moment the word ‘kiss’ escapes his mouth, you choke on thin air.

Why is my plan backfiring on me?

“What? No–”

Taesan shrugs. “Basically, physical contact is allowed to be done anytime.”

You feel your face flush, immediately recalling the third condition that you showed Taesan. No physical affection unless needed.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that—it’s clashing with my third term.”

“But your first term: ‘the other party must always do his utmost best to make the relationship seem real’ exists, am I right?” Taesan objects relaxedly. “Then, my second term doesn’t clash with that. And I also do believe that that first term of yours comes before the rest. Am I right?”

You grit your teeth, sucking in a sharp breath. How could you forget? Taesan will always work to have the last word—be that in court or in conversations.

Plus, he’s not entirely wrong.

Though, you’ve never been someone who lets Taesan win willingly.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, your heart twisting in detest at the way Taesan’s face lights up with a smirk again.

“Then, we have a deal?” Taesan asks.

You stare into his dark brown eyes once again, registering what you’re about to commit yourself to. All just to get rid of your ex and the rumour he’s pulled you into.

You hold out your hand, Taesan gladly reciprocating.

“Deal.”

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IT didn’t hit you that you’re officially Han Taesan’s girlfriend that night. However, the next morning, right after the two of you signed the document at the coffee shop you always study at—it hit you like a million bricks from the sky.

You’re in a “relationship” with the person you loathed the most for the past year. The exact same man who everyone adores, who’s called the it-boy, the campus crush—is now your most “beloved”. Freshman you would rather jump off a cliff than to offer her nemesis a fake-dating pact.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I guess.

“Here,” Taesan hands you a velvet box—one that obviously contains jewellery of some sort.

Of course. Han Taesan’s always prepared.

You let out a deep sigh, knowing what’s inside. Despite that, you ask, “what’s this?”

Taesan gives you a grin, one that you always see him don during the countable times that he beats you in quizzes. “Open it—I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You run your fingers around the edges of the velvety box, sceptical at Taesan’s sudden soft tone. “Don’t talk to me like that,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

Taesan, instead of immediately throwing a scoff in your face, simply leans back into his seat with a chuckle.

Not waiting for whatever reply he’s preparing to throw to you, you open the box. Your eyes lay upon a beautiful, dainty necklace with a “H.D” pendant, nested elegantly in the box. You bite back a gasp, though you’re unable to hide your surprise. The silver necklace is one of the most beautiful pieces of jewellery you’ve yet to lay your eyes upon—it’s dainty and simple, yet it screams elegance in the best way possible.

You look up at Taesan, obviously bug-eyed. “What- I’m- thank you?”

Taesan throws his head back, laughing. He perches an eyebrow up, clearly amused. “What am I supposed to answer? ‘You’re welcome’?”

Oh. It’s part of his terms.

You glare at him.

Not missing a beat, Taesan says with a big grin on his face, “what is your lazy ass waiting for? Put it on—or do you need me to help with that?”

You massage your temples, tempted to stick your tongue out at him, hissing the obvious at him—that you do not want to wear his initials around your neck.

“I don’t need your help,” you say between gritted teeth, harshly yanking the necklace from the box. You swiftly clasp the necklace around your neck, secretly surprised that you’re able to do so.

Maintaining a glare, you retort, “I’m only wearing this stupid necklace because it’s part of your terms.”

You throw your gaze elsewhere, Taesan laughing his stomach out in the background. Why is he finding your irritated state so funny?

The pendant feels cold against your skin, sending tingles. You gulp, feeling odd. You hadn’t announced your ‘relationship’ to your friends yet—but seeing you with Taesan’s initials could certainly start rumours.

A part of you is jumping with triumph—your plan is starting to set its course, while another part of you is afraid of it all. What if you’re finally not good at something, no matter how much you try—pretending you’re in love with your rival, the bane of your existence?

“We’ll start slow,” you hear Taesan say, pulling you back into reality. You quickly morph into your stoic expression—one that you find yourself often putting up around people. “Like everyone else does. Soft launch.”

“Ah,” you manage, nodding. “Sounds good.”

“Even though that necklace certainly is a big jump for a soft launch,” Taesan voices, chuckling. His words cause you to narrow your eyes at him, hyper aware of the cold metal against your skin—a mark that Taesan managed to place on you.

It’s all fake, you chant to yourself. Once Anton gets the message, it’ll all be over.

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THE past few weeks had been a blur. Nothing was out of the ordinary—you attended classes, performed mootings and sent in assignments like usual. Though, only one thing that was out of the routine.

Taesan no longer felt like a thorn to your side.

You still hate him—you despise the way he carries himself, so proud and confident. You wish you could punch his face for the way he’s so smooth with his words, the way that his charm works on everyone so well. You absolutely hate the way a handsome idiot like him had the potential to beat you in every single subject if you slacked for even a minute.

Yet, to the public, he’s your boyfriend.

A cliche: rivals to lovers, they say.

Despite being the one proposing the whole fake dating plan, you had been the one following Taesan’s itinerary so far. The two of you had finally exchanged phone numbers, and at night, Taesan would always send a list of ideas on how to make the soft launch more obvious day by day.

The first week, you found yourself wearing tops that highlighted the H.D pendant, styling your hair to make it more noticeable—you even went as far as attending Taesan’s birthday celebration to top the chances of people noticing the pendant. And Taesan didn’t inform you of this one, but you often found him telling his friends, yours, or random coursemates to pass you drinks and snacks. You had no idea how Taesan had gotten the list of all your favourite things to munch on, but you secretly did enjoy the free flow of snacks. Anton had passed you a snack from Taesan too—five packs of your favourite Choco Pie. You couldn’t forget the bewildered face Anton had as he passed them to you, eyes filled with question and a hint of jealousy.

“What’s up with Han?” he asked.

You shoved the Choco Pies into your shoulder bag, biting back a smile. Who wouldn’t be jolly after getting five of their favourite tidbits?

“How would I know?” you replied bitterly. You quickly turn away from Anton, the uncomfortable feeling of being around him overpowering the bubbly feeling you had from getting snacks.

“Well, those Choco Pies are from him,” Anton repeated for the second time. “And I don’t recall him being anything but hostile to you.”

You suppress a scoff. “Maybe he’s had a change of heart? His brain is probably tired of coming up with things to try and outsmart me,” you muttered. As if.

“Well, if anything—if that asshole tries to do anything to you, I’ll… be here for you, Y/N,” Anton said, taking a step closer. Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched. You quickly finished packing your bag up, swinging it over your shoulders.

You said that last time, too.

“Don’t talk to me, Anton,” you responded as monotony as possible before running out of the lecture hall, not giving Anton even a glance.

The following weeks, Taesan was hanging out with you even more than the previous week. He wasn’t being too obvious, but to you, him walking slightly behind you and not throwing a loud sarcastic remark was already an apparent sign that would show everyone that your dynamics had changed.

Anton had found yet another chance to corner you after a Public International Law lecture. You stayed back in the hall to reread your theoretical essay before sending it in. Behind you, Taesan was packing up his things, busy scrolling through something in his phone.

“Hi, Y/N,” you froze when Anton’s voice reached your ear drums.

You look up at him with a glare. “What do you want?”

Anton flashed his usual pitiful, soft smile. “Nothing. Just a meal with you—this week has been quite stressful for you, right? I heard that last Monday’s mooting was rough.”

“You’re not even a law student, Anton,” you seethed. The KOZ School of Business student ID card hanging on Anton’s neck looked extremely out of place amongst the ocean of law students. “Please kindly get lost, go back to the Business building.”

“My course mates are boring. Besides, you’re more fun to be around,” Anton replied. “I know we… haven’t been on good terms, but give me a chance to fix it all?”

You gritted your teeth, your hands beginning to shake.

The audacity of this boy… where is my stupid fake boyfriend when I need him–?

“I think she clearly said for you to get lost, bud.”

You fought back a grin. Finally.

“Han?” Anton tilted his head. “Wait– who are you to tell me that?”

Taesan stood next to you, his backpack dangling from one shoulder. His height towered significantly above you, making you standing right below his shoulders—enough to match Anton. “Who do you think I am?”

Anton’s eyes darted towards the pendant on your décolletage, his eyes bulging. “What the…” you heard him mutter under his breath.

Taesan seemed to notice this too, and he swiftly pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “So, get it now? Get lost, Lee, and give your ex some space. An ex is an ex for a reason.”

Anton then left with a fuming expression, leaving you in fits of relieved laughter after. You thanked Taesan, who simply responded with a polite smile.

“By the end of this, don’t forget the wish, yeah?” he said, before walking out of the lecture hall.

You stood there, blinking profusely. You had completely forgotten the last clause of your agreement with Taesan—once you were satisfied with his service, you had to grant him one wish. Anything that he wanted.

You face palmed yourself. Why didn’t you think twice before typing that down? You mentally made a note to yourself to prepare your wallet for the outrageous request that the thorn in your side would make later on.

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“ARE you and Taesan dating?”

Sophia’s question makes you almost spit your lunch through your nose.

“What?”

“Girl, don’t you dare pretend not,” Yunjin interrupts, pointing her spoon at you. “You literally have his initials as a necklace that you never take off! H.D., which means Han Dongmin, right? Isn’t that his real name?”

“It’s not like–”

“No, no. It’s so obvious! Taesan’s around you more now, and he even gave you a birthday present!”

Sophia smiles, “he looks at you so differently now!”

Yunjin laughs, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, that too, I guess,” she then looks at you, directly in the eyes, “I guess Han Taesan and Y/N L/N have finally begun their lovers era, huh?”

You feel your cheeks warming up, and guilt fills your chest. You draw a sharp inhale before telling the girls the full story. And subconsciously, your fingers find the pendant, playing with it.

“It’s fake,” you sigh, “I mean, not the necklace—he’s just pretending. I’m pretending, too. None of this is… real.”

Sophia gasps and Yunjin frowns.

“Are you… sure? What for?” Sophia asks.

Yunjin nods in agreement. “I’ve always thought that dude had feelings for you, but I… I didn’t realise it’s actually wrong and my deductions were totally off.”

You scoff, though Yunjin’s words left you wondering. “Taesan doesn’t like me—have you girls seen how he treats me?”

“He treats you well,” Yunjin states plainly, shoving a spoonful of rice into her mouth.

“No,” you immediately shake your head, “he hates seeing me happy! He always finds a way to stick his annoying nose into my life, mocking me. He’s like always, always there to only laugh at my face.”

“Then why did he agree?” Sophia asks.

“To what?”

“To fake date you,” she continues, taking a sip of her yakult. “Well, I’m sure you have a plan—a contract and all—don’t you?”

Your eyes widen. How do these two girls know you so well?

“Yeah. I do. I’m doing all this because of Anton,” the look on your friends’ faces makes you feel a little relieved, “I need him to shut up about me.”

You recall the ridiculous rumour you’ve heard about you from Yunjin, that’s been going around like crazy—the rumour that you used to date Anton because he’s rich and that you used him as a bribe to get outstanding grades. Those close to you knew that is and would never become true—yet people are always jealous of others who have certain things better than them.

It may seem like a small matter to some, but to you, it’s a matter of reputation. Your whole image and potentially, your graduation is at risk. What if the rumour reaches some professor and they report you? You couldn’t risk the huge amount of money and time you spent, only to be scrapped off the dean’s list due to some rumour.

Yunjin herself had recorded proof of Anton trying to turn her against you, using that rumour. If she hadn’t shown you the recording, you wouldn’t have believed that sweet, kind Anton was the one who spread those malicious whispers about you.

Now, you’ve got to end it all. One way or another.

You continue finishing your lunch, Taesan somehow in mind. By the end of your lunch, you’re convinced that this is truly all an act—it’s nothing real, and in the end, you’re both just people who hate each other and use each other for selfish, personal reasons.

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“DO I really have to wear your ugly varsity jacket?” Dongmin hears you grunt through the call. He stifles a laugh, tossing a ball up and down.

“Obviously, you dimwit,” he replies, “you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

Dongmin lets himself smile. The word rolls off his tongue like a simple melody—it feels natural for him to say. He finds it odd, yet entertaining—your reaction is worth it all. Besides, it’s quite refreshing to take a break from hating you, sometimes.

“Besides, your ex is going to be there,” Dongmin reminds, his voice more throaty than expected. “He’s on the team as well, remember?”

“Yeah,” he catches your quiet answer.

“Anyway, how do you even have time for all this?” you question from the other end of the line.

“Hmm,” Dongmin hums, “I do have time.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” you hiss. “You’re in law school, Han Taesan.”

“What? Like it’s hard?”

Dongmin lets out a hearty laugh as he hears you gasp—one of the loudest and most genuine expressions he’s gotten out of you yet.

“I’m so done with you,” you huff. Dongmin hears you shuffle through your closet, most likely finding something to wear.

“You say that everytime,” Dongmin whispers to himself softly.

“Anyway,” you announce loudly, “you better have some food for me once I arrive—I’m wearing your stupid varsity jacket.”

“Alright, sweetheart, anything for you,” Dongmin jests in a sing -song voice.

He hears you yelp in disgust, chuckling. “Yuck! Fuck off, Taesan!”

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IT’S a friendly match, nothing serious, Taesan had said; yet you’re here amongst other significant others, to watch him and his team play against another school’s team.

At the bleachers, you feel called out, and insanely out of place. Everyone looks so in love—girlfriends wearing jerseys with their boyfriends’ numbers and names on the back, painted their faces accordingly, and even cheering for them with their hearts; mothers and siblings gathering together to support their sons and brothers.

Everyone looks so genuinely in love, and you’re the only one who’s there just because you have to. You arrived only two minutes before the match started, too, because you obviously don’t love Taesan enough to be rescheduling your work shift to see him play.

You fidget with the edges of the varsity jacket you’re wearing, oddly feeling how it’s perfectly oversized on you.

Earlier, Taesan had spotted you sitting awkwardly on the bleachers. He ran over to you, quickly handing you a quesadilla and a cup of bubble tea, before jogging back to the basketball court to warm up. He didn’t say anything, nor did you—but the gesture made you feel weirdly fuzzy.

Taesan did actually get you some food, even though you grumpily yelled at him to do so. You thought he wouldn’t, just so that he could get on your nerves, just like he always does.

You watch him and the team warm up, pumping up positive energy with each other. You take a bite of your quesadilla, trying to ease your heart—yet you just can’t forget the real reason why you’re here.

Jersey number 35.

The whistle blows, indicating the start of the game, and you catch Anton’s glance at you. He gives you a wide smile, winking twice—a sign that he made up, thanking you for coming, just like the old days. You grimace, turning away.

The mission is to make it seem like I’m in love with Taesan.

You intently watch Taesan play in the arena, his moves sharp and powerful. He slips through the opposition’s defense flawlessly, scoring goals smoothly. Every time he throws the ball, it gets into the hoop—people erupt in cheers and he’s surrounded by his teammates.

And every time, Taesan looks up at you, flashing his signature smirk. His grin sparkles, lighting up the room—it makes you feel like you’re the only one in the huge arena.

It makes you feel odd.

Like there’s so much more under that grin he flashes to you every time he scores.

You touch the pendant on your décolletage, the cold metal stinging against your skin. Your fingers trace the letters—the initials of Taesan’s birth name—reminding you this is all a set-up. You’re supposed to pretend, and Taesan is pretending too.

He must be.

Taking a deep breath, you tug the varsity jacket closer to your body, shoving your hands into its pockets. The weight of Taesan’s name and number lay heavy on your back, yet you don a bright smile—trying your best to show your support for him.

Right now, you’re Han Taesan’s girlfriend. Player number 11’s girlfriend.

The match ends with Anton’s final goal, and KOZ Academy’s team wins 115-113. The entire gym erupts in waves of cheer and heartfelt hugs, every attending person feeling proud of their team, losing or not. You jog down the stairs, heading towards Taesan, whose height stands out in the crowd.

When you reach the end of the stairs, you notice Anton’s gaze on you. You glance at him, the weight of past memories dragging you down. At the end of these exact same stairs, you used to run straight to Anton, engulfing him in a hug after a match. You used to kiss his cheek, congratulating him for a successful game. You used to feel like your entire world revolved around him, and that you would be happy with him.

But that was in the past. Now, you can look at Anton with nothing in your heart. You feel nothing but plain resentment—damning him for the things he did to you. You had thought he was the love of your life, that you’d grow old with him—but Anton had other plans, and another girl that he prioritised more than you.

You turn your head away, directing your gaze towards Taesan. He’s talking to his friends, his hair wet from the sweat. He’s grinning proudly, talking about something that’s interesting to boys.

You sigh. Hopefully this whole set-up works—Anton leaves you alone, the rumours die down, and you can go back to bashing Taesan’s head.

And hopefully, you can move on, too. Once and for all.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Anton take a step towards you. Though, what you don’t see is that Taesan is faster. He waves at you, calling your name with a big grin, before running to give you a hug.

Your eyes widen upon the impact, and it’s like everything is in slow motion.

Taesan pulls away, ruffling your hair. His eyes crinkle with his grin. “Are you proud of me, darling?”

Darling.

You gulp.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You give him a laugh, trying your best to not make it sound staged. Your nose crinkles at the smell of sweaty boys. Taesan notices, of course, and he chuckles.

“Sorry, I must smell bad. I’ll be sure to spray on some more deodorant next time.”

You gaze into Taesan’s eyes, his arms still around your waist. There’s some kind of softness behind his teasing look—something that you’ve never seen before.

A small smile forms on your lips, one that you’re unable to hold back. “Good job, Taesan.”

“Yeah?” Taesan laughs, his eyes forming crescent moons. “Thanks, Y/N.”

He then leans in to whisper, “that’s the first time I’ve heard that from you.”

You push him away, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off, Taesan. I’ll be waiting at the bus stop.”

Taesan laughs loudly as you stomp away. “By the way,” he yells, “you look good wearing my number, sweetheart!”

You lower your head, biting your lips to fight two things—the urge to flash the middle finger to the jolly Taesan behind you, and the weird fluttering feeling that erupts in your stomach every time he calls you ‘sweetheart’.

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“Y/N,” you turn around, finding a panting Anton in front of you.

You’re standing in line outside one of the most famous pasta restaurants in the heart of the KOZ School of Medicine square, waiting to buy this one pasta dish you’ve been craving for the entire month. You didn’t tell anyone you’d be here—not even Taesan or the girls—so you’re weirded out by the fact that your ex found you here.

“...Anton,” you curtly acknowledge.

“Is it true?” he asks.

You force your eyes close for a second, wishing that it wasn’t wrong to beat someone up. “What?”

“That you’re dating Han Taesan. I saw him kissing your cheek last time.”

Your heart almost stops beating for a second. Almost two months have passed, and almost everyone in the entire campus of KOZ Academy knows that you and Taesan are finally getting tired of fighting each other—falling in love instead.

Your plan has passed the soft launch phase, and now, you’re having your nemesis call you sweet, adoring nicknames out in public.

“Yes,” you answer, managing a deadpan expression. “What about it?”

“Do you love him?”

You narrow your eyes at Anton, feeling like if he keeps on shooting questions like this, he’d go home with a black eye. “Why does it matter if I love him or not?”

“Because,” Anton starts, his voice beginning to waver with every following word, “you used to love me.”

His words hang in the air, thick with a known, cursed history. You could hear your heart stutter for a split second, but you shake your head, quickly suppressing the feeling. You take in a sharp breath, feeling the heat of old anger rise in your chest. You force yourself to look at Anton, eyes hardening.

“That was two years ago, Anton,” you say, your voice detached. “And you made sure to end it, remember?”

Anton’s face flickers with something—guilt, regret, maybe even a hint of fear—but you’re not interested in seeing it. You’re sick of it—too familiar with the way he can spin his words to make himself seem like the victim.

“You don’t get to do this,” you continued, lips tightening into a thin line. “You don’t get to just show up and act like we can pick up where we left off, after what you did with Mina."

Anton’s face darkens the moment your old best friend’s name leaves your mouth, but you hold his gaze without flinching. Anton opens his mouth, probably to throw another lame and poorly explained excuse that you’ve heard before, but you’re faster than he is.

“Save it,” you snap. “You don’t have any right to ask me if I love Taesan after what you did. You lost that right the moment you lied to me and slept with her.”

Anton looks taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected you to bring that up, but obviously, you don’t care. You’ve held your feelings in for so long—leaving them behind quietly to try and move on without a commotion. You’ve spent enough time letting him walk all over you in the past—you’re not about to let him do it again.

For a moment, Anton looks like he’s about to say something more, but you don’t give him a chance. You turn away, taking a small step back as you glance briefly at the line in front of you. “I’m done with this conversation, Anton. You should be, too.”

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THE next morning, after your first class of the day, you sigh as you find yourself waiting outside of a rather packed coffee shop—allegedly Taesan’s favourite one—bundled up in Taesan’s scarf. Autumn is starting to give way to winter, and as it’s doing so, the winds and temperatures are getting crazier. You bury your face further into the softness of Taesan’s scarf, letting the mixture of champagne orange, passion fruit, and sugar vanilla attack your senses. It’s disturbing, once the fact that the scarf that’s warming you up belongs to Taesan registers in your head; however, you had no choice. Freezing your nose off was the only other option.

“Hey,” you hear Taesan’s voice, turning instantly towards him.

“Apple pie latte?” he says, handing you a warm cup of said coffee. Grabbing it from him, you perk your eyebrows up.

“How did you know?” you say, pushing the scarf down. Taesan shrugs, sipping his own drink. You glance at the sticker on his cup: cinnamon maple latte.

“Instincts.”

You snicker at his reply, rolling your eyes. “Cut me some slack.”

The two of you then walk back towards the law school complex, where both of your classes will be held next. The winds begin to blow, and you find yourself hiding half your face behind Taesan’s scarf. You squint your eyes, blinking harshly as the stray strands of hair sting them.

“I love autumn, but not this kind,” you mumble.

Taesan glances at you, and in one swift motion, he grabs your free hand and shoves it into the pocket of his coat. He interlaces his hand with yours, letting his body warmth transfer to you.

Your eyes widen, your brain slow at processing the situation. You whip your head towards the tall man walking with you, his expression relaxed as ever.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull away.

Taesan gives you a look that yells ‘really, Y/N?’. “Keeping you warm?”

“I don’t need your help,” you retort, yanking your hand away.

Taesan grabs it back, shoving it into his pocket. This time, his grip on your hand is firmer than before. “I don’t need my girlfriend to freeze to death—it’s going to ruin my reputation.”

Realisation hits you, again, like a ton of bricks right at the face.

Oh.

“Okay,” you say quietly, letting him do his thing. You look away, deciding to admire the surrounding golden trees. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of how this whole ‘thing’ with Taesan is temporary—and having a personal heat packet isn’t too bad.

Once the two of you reach the lecture hall together, people begin to clearly spectate. You pull your hand away from him, rushing to your usual seat. Taesan, his expression calm as he always is, walks over to his usual seat as well—directly behind you.

Then, two minutes before the lecture starts, the person you truly hated comes into view, and decides to sit at the empty seat next to you.

“Hi, Y/N,” your ex, Anton, greets you with the biggest smile on his face. You mentally sob—already dreading the three hours to come.

You turn away, scooting as far as you could. The memories rush like a flood you can’t stop—reminding you of the heart-tearing pain the boy sitting next to you caused.

“Y/N? You alright? You look pale,” Anton says, probing further.

“It’s the weather,” you reply dully, your lips downturned. You unravel Taesan’s scarf from your neck, placing it on your lap. Your eyes fixed onto the lecture, you ignore Anton’s attempts to get you conversing with him.

“Y/N, are you free after class?” Anton whispers, twenty minutes into the lecture.

“No.” You give him a side glance.

“And you don’t even take IT,” you fake a smile, “so I don’t think you should even be here. With due respect, get lost, yeah?”

“I’m honoured,” Anton whispers back. The soft smile on his face makes you gag. “You still remember things about me.”

“Oh, please,” you grimace, anger beginning to bubble up inside of you. “I’d rather make out with Taesan than remember even the tiniest bit of–”

You suck in your breath sharply, your cheeks flushing at an alarming rate. You had blurted your words out too fast to even register the fact that you’re actually wearing the said person’s initials in a necklace ‘round your neck.

“You’d rather what now, sweetheart?”

Hearing Taesan’s voice, you can almost see his smug smirk decorating that annoyingly attractive face of his.

Your eyes widen.

I did not just admit that.

You turn to Taesan for a moment, flashing him a sheepish smile. You quickly spin back to face the lecture, forcing yourself to focus.

After the lecture concluded, you find yourself stuck in a sticky situation—Anton just can’t let you go out.

“Do you want to go and grab lunch together? It’s pretty late for lunch, and I know your stomach gets upset easily if you don’t eat,” you wince upon hearing his soft tone.

You frown, hating the fact that Anton knows almost a lot of things about you. “No, Anton, I’m sure I said–”

“She said no, Lee, I’m sure even a stupid motherfucker can understand.”

Seeing Anton’s eyes almost pop out at the sight of Taesan next to you, you’re sure that you look the same. You turn sharply towards Taesan, who has his hand perfectly placed on your back. The look on his face is fierce and scary, like he’s about to completely destroy Anton exactly where he’s standing.

“Han,” Anton addresses him curtly. “I didn’t know that you’re on… good terms with Y/N.”

You fidget with the charm on your décolletage, collecting every bit of energy you have to maintain a stoic expression.

Taesan flashes a sly smirk, pride radiating from his eyes as the corners of Anton’s lips twitch. “Why? Is it important to you who I’m close to?”

“No, but given your history with Y/N—I don’t want her to get hurt,” Anton blathers, “so I’m gladly asking you to–”

“What? Fuck off?” Taesan scoffs. Your eyes bulge, somehow not expecting Taesan’s choice of words to be so vulgar. “I think that’s what you’re supposed to do, Lee.”

“Y/N,” Anton says, desperation vivid in his voice. He grabs your wrist, and you instinctively step back. “C’mon, let’s go. I know you don’t like this stupid asshole here–”

Before you could even act, Taesan steps in front of you, shoving Anton to the floor. The students who are still lingering around stop to look. You couldn’t hold in your gasp—Taesan looks extremely angry, you swear you could see fire in his eyes.

A thought clicks into your head.

Taesan is the it-boy, of course he’s good at acting.

You take a step back, weirded by the heavy feeling of disappointment that begins to cloud your heart as soon as you remember the arrangement.

It’s just acting, Y/N. Get it together.

“Don’t touch her, bastard,” you hear Taesan hiss before he turns to you. Anger still lingering around, you watch with silence as Taesan relaxes the tension in his jaw. In a mirroring silence, he gestures for you to follow him out. You nod.

As you turn on your heel, Anton calls out, visibly irritated.

“Y/N,” he says, “what’s going on?”

You give him a mocking smile. You swing Taesan’s scarf around your neck. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation, Anton.”

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AS you and Taesan walk out of the lecture hall, you can’t ignore the heavy weight settling in your chest. It keeps replaying in your mind: the way Taesan stepped in, fiercely protective—it’s all an act, right? You sneak a glance at Taesan, but his face is unreadable, his jaw still slightly clenched from the encounter.

“Taesan… you didn’t have to do that,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his scarf.

Taesan exhales through his nose, his shoulders rising slightly. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he then adds under his breath, “fucking bastard.”

You blink, unintentionally slowing your steps. That’s… different from what you expected.

“Taesan,” you try again, but he shoves his hands into his pockets, picking up the pace.

You know you should just let it go, but the air between the two of you feels heavier than it was before. Was it just an act? Maybe it was—and that Taesan’s acting skills are as good as the rom-com actors—but something about the way he had looked at Anton; like he was seconds away from doing more than just shoving him to the ground.

It feels too… real.

A sudden gust of wind cuts through your coat, making you shiver. Instantly, Taesan grabs your wrist and pulls you into a nearby convenience store.

“Sit,” he orders, disappearing for a moment. You watch him move through the aisles, confusion twisting in your chest. You take a seat exactly where he ordered you to, your head fuzzy from the mixture of confusing, unnamed emotions.

When he returns, he kneels slightly, pressing a warm drink and a heat pack into your hands, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

“You’re hopeless,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “First my scarf, now this.”

You gasp dramatically, rolling your eyes as your lips twitch, your heart knocking against your ribs. “You’re the one who keeps giving me things.”

Taesan just hums in response, his gaze locking onto yours. His usual unreadable expression softens, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes.

Your grip tightens on the cup, trying to shake off the way your body reacts to his warmth. This whole thing with Taesan was supposed to be temporary. So why did it feel like something had changed?

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DONGMIN takes several deep breaths, his eyes shut. The jazz music plays in the background, and the buzz of the cafe calms him down.

No wonder Y/N likes this place.

Dongmin opens his eyes, finding himself staring at you ordering drinks and some food for the two of you. You had dragged him here as soon as you finished your drink at the convenience store, repeating that you needed to treat him to some food. Your voice rings in his head, telling him that he needed to follow you to the coffee shop, to cool off his steam.

“Do you like apple pie?” you ask, setting a plate of two slices of said dessert, accompanied by two scoops of vanilla ice cream.

“Why do you even ask if you’ve already gotten it? Seems like my preference doesn’t matter,” Dongmin replies, putting on the usual smirk.

Your eyes widen and he chuckles.

“Well,” you huff, “I like apple pie—and it’s impossible to find someone who doesn’t.”

“Alright,” Dongmin laughs, and it hits. His laughter dies down as the realisation sinks in—watching you devour your slice of apple pie like it’s the only food you’ll eat until the end of time.

Dongmin, as he puts a bite of his food into his mouth, realises how messed up he is. He realises how often a hearty laugh escapes him when he’s with you—how a flustered, frustrated mess you make him.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Dongmin asks. He pokes his fork absentmindedly into the crust of the apple pie, second guessing his question the moment it leaves him.

You and he had always, always been rivals—a pair that’s never meant to get along. He’d always find you muttering curses and throwing glares in his direction; and he’d always find himself trying his best to reciprocate your disdain for him.

Dongmin does hate you, too.

He hates how you’re so confident, so diligent, so talented. He despises how hard you work, how determined you are, how you seem to always effortlessly bring him down and defeat him in academics. He feels the most intense dislike for you—whenever you walk in the room, he feels like the world is about to explode, along with his sanity.

Dongmin hates, with a burning passion, how he can’t stop himself from falling in love with you. He absolutely loathes the way you smile, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, and the way you look at him—with such fiery determination that’s enough to knock him off his feet. He completely hates the way that he has to keep his tongue sharp, and his attitude insufferable, for you to give him a sliver of your attention. He perfectly hates the way it’s impossible for him to let you know that he doesn’t hate you, at all.

Dongmin watches you open your mouth to reply, yet you don’t for a few moments. You return his gaze, uncertainty playing around in her eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion. “We’re just eating apple pie, Taesan,” you laugh sheepishly.

For the first time, Dongmin doesn’t have an immediate answer. He swallows the bite of apple pie in his mouth, unsure of what he should say next. His smirk fades and hesitation engulfs him.

You notice this, of course, and your frown deepens. Though, before you could do anything, Jaehyun—Dongmin’s friend, suddenly appears.

He greets Dongmin, patting his shoulder. “Yo, Taesan, long time no see! Wait–” he pauses, laying his eyes on you. “Wait, am I dreaming? You two? Sitting together? Laughing? Are pigs flying now?”

You immediately shake your head, laughing along with Jaehyun. Dongmin, on the other hand, is dazed. He stays silent, still unsure of what to say. He’s finding everything peculiar—the way he’s unable to say anything, the way that his heart is thumping loudly against his chest at the mention of you as his girlfriend.

He watches you politely say goodbye to Jaehyun, gaining certainty with every beat of his heart.

His little crush on you is resurfacing, after two years of pushing it down with faked hatred.

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AFTER Jaehyun leaves, you let yourself sneak a glance at Taesan, who’s absentmindedly poking holes in his already destroyed pie crust, avoiding your gaze. You notice his oddly quiet state—the Taesan you know would never miss the chance to throw in a witty remark.

You throw him a glare, slightly hoping it’d make him knock out of his trance. You set your fork down with an audible clink. “You’re being weird. I mean, you always are insufferably weird, but this is even weirder.”

Taesan scoffs, lifting his drink to his lips. “And you’re being annoying. Paranoid.”

You cross your arms, an annoyed grimace forming on your face. “Am I?”

Taesan holds your gaze for a moment too long, something flickering in his eyes before he looks away. “Maybe not.”

Oh.

You lean back, sighing dramatically. “Fine. I don’t get what you being weird has with me being paranoid, but yeah, I’m totally being paranoid. Definitely imagining things,” you scoff sarcastically.

Taesan hums in agreement. “You do that a lot.”

You choke on air. Glaring at Taesan, you retort, “you’re infuriating.”

“And yet, here you are, sharing dessert with me,” Taesan smirks, tilting his head.

You pause, blinking profusely.

That… is a valid point. How did you even get here? You and Taesan are supposed to be rivals. Aren’t you supposed to hate each other?

Your stomach twists, and suddenly, you find it difficult to swallow your final bites of apple pie.

After moments of deafening silence, you say, your voice slightly wavering, “you’re unbelievably good at dodging questions, Taesan.”

You bring your drink to your lips, hoping that you sounded casual.

Taesan looks up from his finished plate of apple pie, smirking as he leans back. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever considered that you’re too good at asking too many questions, and it’s insufferable?”

Your eyes widen slightly, flickering to the way that his eyes glare vaguely at you. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly, “but you’re dodging the real ones.”

Taesan’s smirk falters a little bit, just for a second, and there’s something unrecognisable in his eyes. Something you can’t put a name on.

Maybe a shift in the air. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Or maybe it’s because your heart is racing just a little too fast.

You’re so focused on trying to read Taesan’s expressions that you don’t notice the way your voice softens. “So… if this whole thing is an act, why do I keep feeling like you actually care?”

You mentally hit yourself. That isn’t what you meant to say—and it’s certainly not what you would say in front of Taesan.

Though, it’s out before you can stop yourself. The words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain.

Taesan freezes, his eyes widening with a vulnerability for a fraction of a second. Then, just as quickly as it came, his guard comes back up. “Like we’ve discussed before, it’s an act. Nothing more.”

His voice is stern and plain, and his expression is stoic, but you catch the tremble in his hand as he’s fiddling with his fork.

That, somehow, doesn’t sit right with you.

You learn forward, the pendant swinging against your décolletage, your expression more serious now. “Then why do you care so much?”

You watch him closely, catching the tightening in his jaw and the way his hand proceeds to rest on the table, fingers anxiously tapping against the wood. Taesan doesn’t answer immediately, and instead, he looks away to drift his gaze to the window.

Your chest suddenly tightens. He’s acting like this is nothing, but you certainly feel it—the crack in the walls you’ve both constructed carefully against each other. It’s a tug at the back of your mind, a repeating whisper you’ve been trying so hard to push away.

And yet, the silence between you feels louder than ever.

Minutes pass by and the silence gets louder and louder. You’re lost in your own thoughts—realising just how much you’re affected by Taesan; just how much more you’re feeling than you want to admit. In the silence, you’re wondering, are you just imagining all this? Maybe it’s just you, maybe it’s the fact that you’re finding something more from this fake relationship you have with Taesan, your nemesis.

Though, there’s something that you can’t deny: the fact that your chest tightens with fluttering butterflies every time he gets too close, every time his words shift to something softer than usual, it’s something that makes your heart trip in your chest.

“Y/N,” Taesan calls, his voice softer than anticipated, and you’re pulled out of your train of thought. You look at him slowly, uncertain and afraid of what’s to come. He pauses, as if he’s unsure of what to say next. “What if… I told you I’m not sure if I can pretend much longer?”

His gaze finally meets yours, and for a moment, there’s no mask—just the raw sincerity in his eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You open your mouth, trying to say something—but nothing comes out. The evident truth in his words hits you like an ocean wave on a sunny day, and you can’t help but feel something is shifting between you both.

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THE next few weeks pass by like a ridiculously large time-skip in a movie. You’re doing things like you usually do—attend classes, do mootings, send in assignments, study for exams. Though, there’s one big thing in your life that you can’t ignore—Taesan, your fake-dating arrangement, and the lingering, unspoken tension between the two of you. The first week after the coffee shop episode, you couldn’t sleep even a wink—your mind kept on replaying the scenes over and over again, the way you caught Taesan’s guard almost falling down. You’re sure you felt it too, the cracks in the walls you’ve built against him—even for a short moment.

At school, you’re hyper aware and extra distracted by Taesan. He’s doing his part of the agreement well, acting like he agreed he would. Every glance from him feels like a load of unspoken words, and the air between you two feels heavy. Every day you ponder, unsure of what to do with the new, fragile tension that’s settled between you and Taesan.

Today is the same—everything passes in a blur of lectures, assignments, and studying. You drag your heavy footsteps out of the room, your head spinning at the thought of the many assignments waiting for you. You look up, and the moment you step into the hallway, you see Taesan leaning against the wall, phone in hand, looking as calm as ever.

You walk near him, and your eyes meet—you see a flicker of something there—a tension, a question neither of you have the answer to.

“Y/N,” Taesan greets you with a casual, unreadable smile. You pause in your steps, turning to face him.

“Hi,” you reply quite timidly. You’re trying to sound casual, but you can hear the slight hitch in your voice. There’s no pretending this isn’t different now. There’s no pretending you didn’t almost cross a line last time.

Taesan takes a final glance at his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “Still pretending this is just an act?” he asks, his voice surprisingly soft but laced with something familiar, almost teasing.

You pause, your breath stuck in your throat. Your heart, yet again, skips a beat, and you try to brush it off by laughing nervously. “Me? Pretending? I’m not pretending,” you say, and it’s directed more towards yourself than to him.

You’re not sure who’s trying to convince who anymore.

Taesan looks taken aback. He blinks profusely before putting his usual, calm expression back on. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You watch him walk away, heart twisting in the weirdest way.

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DONGMIN hates the way everything is now. Why can’t he just tell you everything? Why can’t he just tell you that he isn’t pretending, that he actually cares?

He wants to stop everything–going back to shoving insults at your face might be the safest option of them all. Yet, Dongmin finds himself caring for you in the little ways—wrapping his scarf around your neck, adjusting the placement of your bangs with a simple ruffle, placing a tin of coffee and bread in front of you whenever you seem exhausted with studying, sliding post-its to you with his handwriting reminding you to take breaks when needed. He still finds his heart racing upon seeing you; the way your lips pout when you’re deep in thought, the way you smile and laugh so adorably upon hearing a funny joke from your friends, the way you’re still so cute even when frustrated.

As he walks away, Dongmin fights with his own heart. Why was he acting like this? It’s so clear that you’re expecting something more, but why is he pushing you away?

Dongmin takes a deep breath. Yeah, he’s scared. He’s afraid that maybe it’s all in his head, maybe you’re the one acting so well and it’s just gotten to him.

Dongmin swears to get himself together, but it looks like he’s going to need more than just mental affirmations.

The next day, he misses his alarm, for the first time in forever, and is running late to his 9 AM lecture. He’s speed walking through students, dodging them with a bag hanging on one shoulder and his hair still partially wet. Just as he’s about to near the entrance of the Law building, he hears raised voices nearby. He puts his hood up, his first instinct is to ignore it all—he’s got no time to eavesdrop on people’s business. However, he recognises one of the two quarrelling voices—yours.

Dongmin’s steps come to a halt, and he turns to face you. His eyes slightly widen and his shoulders begin to tense as he sees you and Anton standing a few feet away, locked in an argument. He’s a bit too far away to hear the full conversation, yet he catches some bits of it.

You’re standing at your full height, stiffly in front of Anton, arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury. Anton, on the opposite side of you, no longer has that sickening, innocent smile—instead, he’s flashing you a mocking smirk.

The argument is already reaching its peak, yet Dongmin is quick to analyse the situation just by picking up a few bits.

“You think you’re really something, don’t you?” Anton taunts.

You scoff. Dongmin could tell you’re offended, yet the mask you put on really makes a difference. “At least I don’t have to put other people down to feel important.”

Anton scoffs back, “please. You act like you’re above all this, but you’re just as desperate for attention as everyone else.”

Dongmin clenches his jaw, watching the argument unfold as his fingers begin to twitch.

You give Anton a mocking laugh, stepping forward. “I don’t care what you think, Anton Lee. I don’t care if you think I don’t love Taesan, because what matters is my own feelings, not yours. And I’m done wasting my time on you.”

Before you could turn away and enter the building, Anton grabs your wrist.

It’s not aggressive, but it’s enough. Enough to make Dongmin see red.

Everything’s a blur—one second later, he’s towering in front of Anton, his eyes glaring daggers.

“Let her go,” his voice is low and threatening, as sharp as a blade.

Anton looks up, initially startled, but as soon as he sees Dongmin, he rolls his eyes. His hand still around your wrist, he says with a sneer, “look who’s here, Y/N’s knight in shining armour! Oh, so great, always the hero.”

Dongmin is too busy counting down the ways he could destroy Anton’s life to be noticing how immediate the warmth creeps up your cheeks. Dongmin, in one fluid motion, steps closer, standing between you and Anton.

“Did you hear me?” his voice drops deadly lower than before, his posture relaxed yet his eyes are dangerous. “Let. Go.”

Anton huffs, roughly letting go of your hand. He shakes his head. “You two are seriously something else,” he mutters before storming away.

You and Dongmin stand next to each other, cautiously eyeing Anton until he disappears from sight. For that moment, none of you say anything.

“What was that for?” you say suddenly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t need you to step in.”

Dongmin shoves his hood down to his neck, raising his eyebrow. Feeling slightly irritated, he scorns. “Yeah? Looked like you were having a great time.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, but something pinches Dongmin’s heart as he notices there’s no real bite behind it. “I’m fine—I had it all handled.”

Silence.

Dongmin exhales sharply, words shooting out of his mouth without second thought. “I know. It’s just–”

He stops, his eyes landing on your wrist. Closes his mouth.

You wait for a few moments, before warily asking. “What? Just what?”

Dongmin hesitates. Suddenly, it’s all he can push out of his throat. He’s already there, halfway crossing the line he’s put between you and him for the past two years.

And then, it just… slips out.

“I just can’t stand it, okay?”

Your frown deepens, confused. “Stand… what?”

Dongmin lets out a frustrated breath, turning sharply to completely face you. “I can’t stand seeing you with people like that fucking bastard. I can’t stand watching you get into these stupid situations. And I really, really can’t stand how much I—”

His eyes widen, and his words stumble upon a stop. Dongmin stammers, realising what he was just about to say.

“Taesan,” you call, gently, hope suddenly shimmering in your eyes. “How much you what?”

Dongmin freezes. He’s silent, tongue frozen, unable to utter another word.

He can’t say it.

Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath.

“You know what?”

“Taesan–”

“Next time,” he says quickly, in a softer voice, “don’t… waste your time on a guy like him.”

Your eye contact is still intact, you open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Your eyes widen for a split second—as if you’re catching on to the feelings displayed, unknowingly, on Dongmin’s face.

His concern is real.

“W-we should go,” you stammer instead, gesturing to the Law building.

Dongmin nods. He grabs your backpack from you, signalling for you to walk in first. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You force yourself to walk as swiftly as possible to the lecture hall, heart pounding, mind racing. Behind you, Dongmin’s entire body is tense. He’s finally realising he can’t keep his feelings for you hidden forever.

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THE next day, you can’t stop thinking about Taesan—and whatever he was about to say to you. Your mind races with a million different thoughts throughout the day. What if he actually feels the same? What if you’re not the only one looking for something more in this fake arrangement?

However, given that exams are looming closer, you’re only given a short amount of time to dwell on your thoughts. After your last class of the day, you find yourself cooped up in the library, studying the rest of the day away. Several of your friends join you, too.

The study group grows, joined by both your friends and Taesan’s—though, you didn’t even realise that Taesan is sitting across you the entire day, until everyone starts leaving one by one.

By midnight, it’s only you and him. You don’t look up, but you can feel your heart thumping faster than usual. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings—how close he is, how his scent feels comforting yet intimidating, and how his presence is reminding you of something that you’re too afraid to admit.

“Y/N,” you open your eyes to someone gently shaking your shoulder, the reality of things crashing onto you all at once. You lift your head up, realising that you fell asleep in the middle of reviewing a past paper. Your eyes meet with Taesan’s concerned gaze.

His voice is low and soft, as if it’s only for you. “Let’s take a break. You’ve been snoozing off way too many times.”

Your heart is beating a little faster than usual, but you agree. Taesan’s request seems too casual, and he looks like he needs a break too.

You follow his lead, walking a little bit behind him to the convenience store that’s still open in campus grounds. He’s silent, observing you and letting you pick anything you want before paying for both your things and his.

“Go sit,” he says, holding your instant tteokbokki package in hand, along with his instant noodles. “I’ll heat these up.”

Taesan quickly moves to the microwave before you can say anything in retaliation, a sign that you take seriously. He’s not in the mood for any fights.

You take a seat, and soon after, Taesan joins you. He puts your instant meal in front of you, breaking your chopsticks for you.

“Here,” he says, his voice quiet. “Careful, the tteok is still hot.”

He then slips his coat around you before turning back to his own beverages.

You find yourself staring at him, long after he’s handed you your things. You watch him, peacefully releasing his tension—running a hand through his hair, chugging down a cup of coffee.

Everything around you looks like it has a blurred filter on, yet one thing is crystal clear: Taesan, and his evident care for you. The longer you stare at him, the more you realise.

He’s always been the one. He’s always been there.

It hits you harder than any bad grade has ever done.

Taesan has always been like this—quietly looking out for you, quietly caring for you.

All this while, all the banter, the little arguments, moments, and glances—it’s not just rivalry. It’s not just the fact that he always finds a way to make you all grumbly and irritated. It’s not just the fact that, even back when you were with Anton, he’d always find a way to show his care for you.

It’s not just the fact that you enjoy his company, even if he makes you feel like you want to bang your head against the wall.

You like him.

You like Han Taesan.

You quickly turn your head away, blood rushing to your head as soon as the realisation hits you. You stuff a few bites of instant tteokbokki into your mouth, wanting to quickly get rid of whatever this warm, refreshing feeling is.

“Can you stop looking at me like that, L/N?”

You cough, shocked at how his sudden comment breaks through the almost comforting silence. All the past moments you’ve had with him—the banter, the insults, the arguments—run through your head as soon as your last name, what Taesan had always called you, reaches your ears.

“Like what?” emboldened by the awakening of your feelings, you retort, your tone more challenging than you intended.

Taesan snaps, pushing his chair back, raking a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Like I’m your fucking boyfriend.”

“What?” you’re confused, not expecting that out of his mouth. “What are you–”

“Like you’re waiting for me to say something that I know I can’t take back.”

“Say it, then.”

You say, challenging him. It feels sentimental—like the old days, where all you did when you met Taesan was throw taunting words at him. But at the same time, the words come out of your mouth without realising—daring the two of you to finally cross the line.

“I like you, okay? I probably love you at this point, I don’t know. I don’t know when it started, but I do. And I—” He exhales sharply, his voice softer. “I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t.”

The world stops spinning and you stare at him, blank.

Your tongue feels numb, your heart racing at a million miles per hour.

You feel the same, you’re sure, but you don’t know how to respond. Do you smile and say it back? Do you tease him, calling him an idiot like you always do?

“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you catch Taesan muttering.

You smile. “Me too,” you say softly.

Taesan lifts his head immediately, sharply turning to you with widened eyes. “... pardon?”

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THE next few days feel like a refreshing spring breeze in the peak of winter, yet the air is filled with a cute awkwardness. After the confession, neither of you explicitly announce to one another that the two of you are a real couple now—yet your interactions feel new and unscripted, but no one exactly is making the first move.

Of course, your friends notice before the two of you do.

You’re sitting at the food hall together with Yunjin and Sophia, eating breakfast. You’re halfway through your pancakes, and Taesan—or Dongmin, as you call him now—suddenly takes a seat next to you.

“Mind if I join, girls?” he asks, a charming grin on his face. He’s asking the table, yet his gaze is directed to you. You bite your lip shyly, nodding.

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Yunjin says, her words laced with teasing. She watches with eagle eyes as Dongmin puts all of the sliced bananas from his serving of pancakes onto yours, knowing that you especially enjoy them with your breakfast pancakes. She snorts at the obvious look of love in Dongmin’s eyes, more evident now that he isn’t shoving insults at your face. “So, you two are really dating now?”

You choke on your bite of pancake, immediately blurting out,

“No!”

“Yes.”

You sharply turn to Dongmin, who has a smug look on his face. It’s the one look on his face that you’re used to, yet there’s a tint of pink on his cheeks. The edge of his smirk twitches, threatening to form into a cute, lovesick smile.

“...I see,” Sophia interrupts your awkward eye contact, sighing dramatically.

“We’re dating?” you ask Dongmin acutely, your brows connecting in an embarrassed frown.

“I don’t know,” Dongmin shrugs casually, the look in his eyes teasing. “Are we?”

The blush that instantly creeps up your cheeks tells you the answer. You look away, suddenly focused on the way you’re cutting your pancakes. Dongmin’s laugh echoes to your left, and your friends’ send you teasing looks.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ �� ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

A few months later, on the first week back after winter break, you go on a walk around campus with your boyfriend, Han Dongmin. It feels weird, calling him yours now. Just almost half a year ago, you were fighting your ego to have your nemesis fake-date you in order to intimidate your ex into leaving you and your life alone. Now, that same thorn in your side has become the light of your life, the apple of your eye. Now, the two of you are in something that’s not written on a flimsy contract.

Dongmin had also helped clear out the rumours surrounding you—in the most annoying, Han Taesan way—announcing the truth about Anton by spreading it like a rumour to everyone. You still get second-hand embarrassment remembering that day, bombarded by questions and apologies from acquaintances and people you’ve only seen around.

“You know,” you say dreamily, distracted by your train of thought, “you’re so annoying—but I love you.”

Dongmin freezes, his steps coming to an immediate halt. You, too, freeze in your steps as you realise you’re a few steps ahead of him now. You turn around, eyebrows perked up. “What’s wrong, Dongmin?”

Dongmin.

The sound of your voice calling his birth name repeats in his mind, like a favourite song on loop. He stares, unable to say anything. His eyes fall on the pendant dangling from your neck, one that you started wearing due to the fake-dating arrangement. He remembered insisting that you take it off, so that he can buy you a new one later, but you said that it’s special so you won’t take it off.

I love you.

Dongmin feels a smile slowly bloom on his face.

She said it. She didn’t even hesitate. It’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

His face softens, jogging up to you. He gives you a cheeky smile.

“Say that again.”

You frown. “What again?”

“The first part.”

“What–” you pause, eyes widening as you get what he’s talking about. Heat rushes up your cheeks, warming your face despite Dongmin’s scarf wrapped around it. “I–”

“Yeah,” Dongmin says, smirking as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Me too.”

You bury yourself into the familiar scent of Dongmin’s scarf as he kisses your cheek.

“Fuck you, Han Dongmin,” you grumble, ignoring the obvious butterflies in your stomach.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THAT weekend, you and Dongmin are eating lunch together at your favourite coffee shop. Dongmin had said that the vibes there makes him sleepy, and tried to bring you to eat at one of the more famous restaurants near the KOZ School of Engineering, yet the plan backfires on him when the line is certainly too long.

Now, the two of you are back at your favourite coffee shop, sipping warm cinnamon lattes.

“See?” you tease, smiling cheekily. “I told you this place is the best.”

Dongmin rolls his eyes, taking a big spoonful of the chocolate cinnamon roll on your plate. “I want to eat some real food, like kimchi jjigae, not these sweet chocolate desserts,” he complains, though he can’t hide the fact that he secretly loves it.

“Yet you’re the one finishing my cinnamon roll,” you retort, letting him subconsciously finish your dessert. You’re familiar with his love for chocolate.

Dongmin flashes you an innocent smile, shrugging. “Not my fault.”

Comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, letting you bask in each other’s presence. Suddenly, Dongmin leans closer, adjusting the place of the H.D pendant on your décolletage. Frozen, you watch him lean back into his seat, smiling as he admires you.

“You look good today,” he murmurs, “actually, you look good everyday.”

An undeniable tint of pink colours your face. “I’m literally wearing a black turtleneck sweater, Dongmin.”

His gaze softens. “Like the first time you sat next to me, three years ago, during our foundation year.”

Your eyes widen, your mind replaying the memory, fresh like it happened yesterday. “You… remember?”

“Of course,” Dongmin replies, his smile delicate.

“I even remember the day you walked up to me, confident and all. I thought you were going to brag to my face that you won first place for the quiz we had the day before, but then you told me to fake date you.”

You almost spit out the coffee from your mouth. “Han Dongmin!” you hiss. “Don’t remind me… it was so stupid.”

“Stupid?” Dongmin asks, tilting his head. The signature cocky smirk is back on his face. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, “I mean, I could’ve resolved the matter by myself, you know–”

“But you know that I’m the best option,” Dongmin cuts you off, smug. You roll your eyes.

“I don’t think it’s stupid, though,” he continues, his expression softer. More… raw. “To be honest, I think I was ecstatic that you walked up to me that day.”

“Why?” you ask croakily.

“‘Cause I’ve always liked you, Y/N. I always have. I just don’t understand where things went wrong—maybe it’s the way I thought teasing you would gain me your attention at first. It did. But then, you became used to my teasing and thought of me as a threat—maybe ‘cause I’m smart as hell, too—but yeah. I don’t know how to say it but, all of that hatred was… pretend.”

You blink at him, too shocked to process his words. You try to reply, but mere stuttering comes out, and your face turns bright red.

Dongmin notices this, of course, and he turns on his shameless, impudent grin. “Besides, you said you’re going to grant me any wish that I have, right?”

Oh.

You inhale sharply. How could you forget? You immediately bring out your phone, checking the balance in your bank account. It’s quite a luxury, due to you working a few part time jobs during your break and whenever you can—but you certainly don’t think it’s fit for whatever grand wish Dongmin is about to demand from you.

“Fine,” you huff, “only because it’s part of our… old contract.”

“Old contract, huh?” Dongmin wheezes, already laughing hard. You frown, fighting back a smile.

“Why are you always laughing whenever I speak, dumbass?”

“Hey,” Dongmin pauses his laughter, flicking your forehead gently. It doesn’t even hurt, but you gasp dramatically, and he laughs it off. “It’s babe for you, sweet girl. And, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just admiring how cute and funny you are.”

Babe, huh?

You snort, hiding a smile. “Fine.”

“Anyway, speaking of the old contract,” Dongmin grins, “what’s the new one, then?”

“You haven’t even told me what sort of dumb, overpriced thing you want for your wish,” you say, lips set in a grim line. “And now you want another one?”

“My wish, huh?”

The unreadable look on his face makes you brace yourself and your wallet.

“Then, my darling, this is my wish.”

Dongmin leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. It’s subtle, short and sweet, but significant enough for you to realise it all—the reality of your feelings and his. He lingers for a while before sitting back in his chair.

“So,” he says coolly, ignoring the plain blush streaked across his face. “Can you grant me the wish? To kiss you anytime, and anywhere I want?”

“Basically, physical affection can be done anytime?” you say, quoting what this man in front of you said months ago, when both of you first agreed on the fake-dating situation. The whole absurd set-up that brought the two of you to where you are, today.

Dongmin laughs, clearly impressed. “Yeah,” he nods.

You give him a warm smile, glad that you’re finally able to follow your heart’s desires, and to not put up a wall of defense around him anymore.

“Wish granted.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂��𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

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nicholasluvbot · 4 months ago

Text

MAKE YOU WANNA KISS 𓂃 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌

ㅤㅤ― 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒.

𝑓. readerㅤ⋆ㅤ1341ㅤㅤ◜ᴗ◝ㅤㅤfluff est. relationship ❜ㅤㅤ─── censure kissing skinshipㅤㅤLOGS

骚人 : i miss dojaejung TT

PARK SUNGHO

sungho is just about to leave your place. slinging his bag over his shoulder, he turns to you, soft smile playing on his lips as he leans in to place a sweet goodbye kiss to your lips.

and you dodge.

he stops for a second, blinking at you like he miscalculated his own movement. then, with an amused chuckle, he leans in again.

and you dodge again.

he pulls away, brows raising slightly in disbelief before furrowing. “oh,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

you can’t even react before he places his hands on your hips firmly, pushing you back until you’re pressed against the door, one hand cradling the back of your head so that you don’t hurt yourself.

your breath catches as he leans in, gaze flickering to his lips. his lips are on yours immediately, kissing you slow and deep, fingers tightening at your waist as if to keep you from escaping again, as if he was reminding you what you were about to miss out on if you’d dodged one more time.

he pulls away and smirks at the dazed expression on your face. “cute,” he whispers, winking at you before slipping out the door.

you’re left standing there, completely dumbfounded and breathless.

LEE RIWOO

you dodge riwoo’s first kiss, and he just blinks at you with confusion. then he laughs it off, thinking it might’ve just been a coincidence.

but after a few more missed kisses, he places both hands on your shoulders and makes you face him. “alright, what’s up?”

you play innocent. “what do you mean?”

riwoo narrows his eyes before suddenly tugging you closer. his hands snake around your waist, keeping you in place, in close proximity with him.

he leans in slowly, lips lingering over yours. you tilt your head instinctively, anticipating the kiss—

and he pulls away.

his hands, which were just all over your body, are now tucked into his pockets as he turns around casually, whistling a tune.

your lips part in shock. “did you just—”

he tilts his head cockily, a teasing smirk on his lips. “what?”

you grab his collar, pulling him back in. “you—”

he rests his forehead against yours, still smirking. “feels unfair, huh?”

“no. you do not get to turn this on me.”

he just laughs, pecking your nose instead. “payback’s fun.”

MYUNG JAEHYUN

you’ve been ignoring jaehyun’s kisses all day. turning your head every time he leans in, making excuses—his lips landing either on your cheek, shoulder, or somewhere totally random every time he tries to steal a kiss.

at first, he pouts. then he starts laughing, thinking you’re just being playful. by the third time, his smile falters a little, but he doesn’t say anything.

by the end of the day, he’s sitting in a corner, looking down at his hands, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. one look at him and you immediately regret playing the stupid prank on him.

his usual bright eyes are filled with hesitance, and doubt.

“...do you hate me?” he asks softly.

your heart drops. “what?”

jaehyun bites his lip. “you’ve been ignoring me all day,” he whispers. “did i do something wrong?”

you feel so bad instantly. “oh, jaehyun…” you step closer, reaching for his hand, but he doesn’t move. you have to tiptoe and press a kiss to his cheek to get him to finally meet your eyes.

“i was just messing with you,” you explain.

his lips tremble slightly. “it wasn’t funny.”

you cup his face, pressing multiple kisses on his forehead until the furrow between his brows disappears. you then pull him in a warm hug, “i know, i’m sorry,” you murmur against his neck.

he melts instantly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you both down until you’re settled in his lap. “you owe me cuddles,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“i’ll cuddle you all night,” you promise.

and you do.

HAN TAESAN

the first time you dodge taesan’s kiss, he lets it slide. maybe you didn’t notice, maybe you moved by accident—he doesn’t think much of it.

the second time? he notices.

he doesn’t say anything, just pauses for a fraction of a second before shifting like nothing happened.

oh, so this is how it’s going to be, he thinks.

still, he doesn’t bring it up. he’s patient.

the next day, you’ve completely forgotten about your little game. taesan is sitting next to you, one arm lazily draped around the back of the couch, the other scrolling on his phone.

you lean in instinctively, pressing your hand against his jaw to pull him closer—

and he moves his face, dodging your kiss.

your lips land on empty air, and you freeze, confused. “huh?”

when you look at him, he’s staring back at you with a tiny, satisfied smirk.

“something wrong?” he asks, feigning innocence.

you squint at him, mouth agape, realization sinking in. “are you—”

he looks back at his phone, pretending to be deeply interested in whatever stupid video it’s showing. “hm?”

you grab his face with both hands, forcing him to look at you. “han taesan.”

he’s smirking now, clearly enjoying himself. “yes?”

you glare before leaning in, attacking him with kisses all over his face—his nose, cheeks, forehead, jaw—everywhere until he’s a giggling mess in your arms.

“there,” you huff, “now we’re even.”

taesan shakes his head and tugs you closer again, his voice softer now. “not yet,” he mutters before finally kissing your lips properly.

KIM LEEHAN

the first time you dodge leehan’s kiss, he blinks in surprise but stays quiet.

the second time, his brows furrow slightly, and he studies you for a moment before shrugging it off.

by the third time, he catches on.

he doesn’t confront you right away. instead, he watches. observes. the way your eyes flicker mischievously before dodging, the way you try to hold back a smile—it’s a game.

and he lets you think you’re winning.

until later that evening, when you’re both sitting on the floor of his room, snacking and chatting about nothing in particular. he shifts a little closer, brushing his pinky gently against yours, and you don’t think much of it.

until, in one smooth motion, he leans in and kisses the corner of your lips before you can move away.

your breath catches.

before you can react, he tilts his head, trailing soft kisses along your cheeks, jaw, and down your neck. his kisses are slow, teasing, as if he’s savoring every second of the torment inside of you.

“you can’t avoid me forever,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and amused.

your heart stutters. “leehan—”

he finally pulls back, resting his head on your shoulder and gazing at you with soft eyes and a knowing smile. “done playing now?”

you huff, but your face is burning. “…maybe.”

leehan chuckles, leaning in again—this time, you don’t have it in yourself to dodge.

KIM WOONHAK

you’re lying on the bed, scrolling on your phone, when woonhak shifts beside you, leaning in.

you turn your head, still focused on your screen.

a beat of silence.

then he talks about something else, acting like nothing happened. a few minutes later, he leans in again. and you dodge. again.

this time, he stops. blinks, lips slightly parted in shock. then, in one swift motion, he rolls over, pinning you down against the mattress.

you yelp in surprise. “woonhak—”

“dodging me?” he muses, fingers finding your sides. “that’s crazy.”

before you can utter another word, he starts tickling you mercilessly. you shriek, squirming, but he’s relentless, laughing as you gasp for air.

“say you won’t do it again,” he demands.

you’re laughing so hard, you can only gasp out, “woonhak, please st—”

“say it.”

“okay, okay. i won’t—”

he finally stops, letting you catch your breath. then, before you can complain, he leans down and presses soft, lingering kisses on your lips.

“you,” he murmurs, kissing you again, “are never allowed to do that again.”

you just hum, dazed. “okay.”

tags ( boynextdoor ) @coquettejunnie , @hanninova , @chaeneu , @aloe-7 , @en-dream , @rizzkisworld , @cosmicwintr , @mydearyeseo , @ladyaida , @fae-renjun , @slytherinshua , @jjennuine , @amouriu , @i03jae , @kstrucknet , @k-films , @sgz-net

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juyeoz · 7 months ago

Text

I-N-L-O-V-E LIKE THE MOVIES — MYUNG JAEHYUN ୨୧

SYNOPSIS — You loved the game Wordscapes and Jaehyun loved you. His long lasting crush was tiresome for his friends, you were only his classmate after all. Nevertheless, what other way was there for him to gain your attention other than playing your favourite game, Wordscapes? None. Well, completely ignoring the fact he wasn’t the best at word games.

PAIRING — loser-crush!jaehyun x crush-fem!reader (ft. boynextdoor, ricky from zerobaseone, yunjin from le sserafim, yeonjun from txt, and hanni from njz).

GENRE(S) — short smau + written, highschool au, classmates to friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slight angst, and crack.

WARNING(S) — profanity, random timestamps, wordscapes and pixel gun 3d obsession, kind of fast paced, kms/kys jokes, joking threats, corny lovebirds, mentions of being sick, and hints at manipulation.

STATUS — completed! (dec 9th, 2024 - feb 6th, 2025)

NOTE — wordscapes obsession is back…! like badly… i’m literally level 244 i can’t LMAOO wordhunt too i’m so good 125 wins ☝️☝️ anyways enjoy this smau in return!

PLAYLIST — nice guy by boynextdoor, your eyes only by enhypen, i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys, light by wave to earth, buzz love by &team, i’m in love with you by the 1975, let you break my heart again by laufey, nothing even matters by big time rush, blue lemonade by red velvet, honeypie by jawny, day 1 by red velvet.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

PROFILES › ONE AND TWO

CHAPTER ONE — Blocked Bye.

CHAPTER TWO — I hope yall die.

CHAPTER THREE — hella hit that

CHAPTER FOUR — Ouu… 🧯🧯💨💨

CHAPTER FIVE — oh that’s…

CHAPTER SIX — CLOCK OUT BITCH

CHAPTER SEVEN — JAEFLIRT ALERT

CHAPTER EIGHT — a win is a win…?

CHAPTER NINE — that would be fire 🔥

CHAPRER TEN — fatal liars

CHAPTER ELEVEN — ITS NOT A DATE

CHAPTER TWELVE — LLMJ 🕊️❤️

CHAPTER THIRTEEN — Damn! i look good

CHAPTER FOURTEEN — flocita HATE club

CHAPTER FIFTEEN — me when giselle 💔

CHAPTER SIXTEEN — BAE?&:&@3

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN — we failed (0.5k words)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN — oh baby my baby

CHAPTER NINETEEN — need him BAD!

CHAPTER TWENTY — hard launch or wtv

COMPLETED!

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ihangelic · 6 months ago

Text

PAS DE PUNK ╱ h.taesan

you and taesan go together like classical music and rock: not at all. but similar to the way taesan keeps getting piercings, there’s something about the way he gets under your skin that you kind of like— and you’re too proud to admit why you keep coming back for more.

pair ; punk!taesan x ballerina!reader

genre ; smut (with plot), fluff?, rock band au, enemies to lovers

warnings ; fem!reader, taesan has piercings (including tongue), arguing (flirting), some jealousy, ‘make me shut up’ kiss, confessing of feelings, petnames (mostly princess), lots of mentions of taesan’s hands & rings, dom!taesan, bratty/sub!reader, thigh riding, praise, degr*dation, bre*st play, begging, a little sp*nking, no prep, piv

wc ; 8k

playlist ; smells like teen spirit by nirvana / sugar we’re goin down by fall out boy / a little death by the neighbourhood / punk rock princess by something corporate / she’s kinda hot by 5sos / good girl by thomas larosa / s*xtape by deftones / closer by nine inch nails / all i really want is you by the marías

✉️ 𓂃 ₊˚⊹ note ; happy new year!! idk if it’s unhinged to make a playlist for a smut fic but i couldn’t help myself ><. i avoided using lesser-known ballet terms for non-dancers to understand (aka me), but also tried to make it enjoyable for dancers to read. hopefully i was successful lol.

! . . . COPYRIGHT OF IHANGELIC

dancing along with the music of l’oiseau bleu is practically impossible when it sounds like a rock concert is taking place in the room just across from you.

lowering to stand flat footed in your pointe shoes, you raise your hands to your face, pinching your nose bridge in frustration as you try and resist the growing urge to pull your hair out.

the obnoxious sound of drums, a bass’s low rumble, and an electric guitar’s higher tune rings in your ears— drowning out any of your more rational thoughts until you’re left with only rage.

you try your best to block it out, to take a moment to breathe and try to get a controlled hold over your emotions— and you think it may work after you cover your ears with your own hands, the sound of the instruments still audible but sounding more distant. then the teeth gritting noise of a cymbal pierces through the barrier of your hands and it’s almost like it’s a sound effect for the way your train of thought shatters, letting out a sigh that sounds much more like an animalistic scream before stomping over to your phone and turning off the music.

power walking out of the dance studio and to the very unfortunately placed neighboring rental space, you don’t even have to turn the knob as you look through the glass door. the raging bitch face you wear is absolutely effortless as you mean-mug all three ‘problems’ in the room; ‘problems’ that drip in leather, distressed or patched fabric, spikes, and way too oversized jeans. you’re about to feel acquainted with the three men as this situation seems to occur more and more often.

foam panels are stuck to the walls; black cords are neatly coiled or in squiggly lines across the floor; and of course there’s guitars, a drum set, and microphones everywhere.

finally you catch the eyes of the long, blond haired drummer— and that gives you enough incentive to open the door and barge in like you own the place.

“could you be any louder?” you rhetorically ask, but it goes unheard as two of the men sing passionately into their microphones, eyes closed and hands working the strings of their guitars while the drummer keeps playing his drums— all while staring at you with a relaxed, barely inquisitive face.

“could you be any louder!” you shout, the end of the sentence awkwardly fading in volume when there's a screech from one of the guitars and everything goes quiet.

the two seeming vocalists turn their heads to look at you, all three men now staring while you stand, clearly bothered as your hands are on both sides of your hips and your chest heaves with deep breaths of frustration.

“well…” the dark haired, taller one begins— and your expression only sours more as you’re already familiar with how snarky and full of himself he can be. “you’re the one yelling.”

you let out an appalled scoff, unable to help the way your eyes roll as you’re angered even more by how that only seems to make the man smirk.

“if someone has to yell just for you to hear them that means you’re the loud one.”

“you sure about that, princess?” he asks, quirking a pierced brow. your impending explosive response must be visible as the shorter statured one interrupts for damage control.

“w— we’re sorry!” he starts, speaking on his friends behalves. the blond’s expression never changes as he stares at your fuming face, while the darker haired looks like he’s about to protest— but the other continues before he has the chance. “look..we got off on the wrong foot and…”

the way his hands float in front of him, bass hanging against his chest by the strap— it only adds to how lost he looks on what to do, and it makes you feel kind of bad. (for him at least.)

you’re about to start apologizing when he’s suddenly reaching his hand out towards you.

“i’m riwoo.” he introduces, then gestures over to the other two men. “this is taesan and leehan.”

“…y/n” you say somewhat sheepishly, a bit of your shame coming back at the politeness of the bassist you now know as riwoo.

previously you’d only knock aggressively at their door to ask them to shut up, a few times popping your head in when that didn’t work to snappily ask them to please try and keep it down at least a little. you’ve never actually had a full conversation with them before— or an argument...whatever this exchange of words could be classified as.

“unfortunately we can’t really be any quieter. we have to practice for a gig we got coming up—“

“isn’t your little dance school supposed to be closed now anyway?” taesan abruptly interrupts, yet again grinding your gears with the snarky way he says the words ‘dance school’.

“it’s closed for classes, but the rooms can be used for practice up until eleven pm.” you provide smartly, catching yourself before you scrunch your nose in disgust at him.

“we try to keep the noise at a minimum if we’re here at prime hours,” riwoo cuts in again, attempting to explain gently. “but past that…” he trails off, shoulders shrugging as he gives you a sympathetic look.

you process his words, how he really is seemingly trying to help you out here, before sighing softly as your hand raises to press into your increasingly aching temple.

“do you have to use your amps?” you ask, raising a hand to point at one.

“did you not hear him? we have a show to do, we need to practice as best as we can. so yes, we have to use our amps.” taesan firmly states, over enunciating like you can’t hear. his brows are slightly furrowed as his previous amusement is completely gone, a flame of annoyance now in his eyes.

you let your hand defeatedly fall and slap against your bare thigh, taesan’s eyes glancing down at your leg for the smallest of moments before looking back up to glare at you.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” you bite at him, sick of his selfish attitude as you turn your body fully in his direction, crossing your arms.

“wxnder.” he dryly states, making your head tilt in confusion and absolute impatience.

“huh?”

“wonder— but like, with an ‘x’. that’s our band name.” leehan provides, throwing you off as you’re momentarily sidetracked by how deep and smooth his voice is. (are all these men vocalists? also, with an ‘x’— how cheesy can they be?)

“you should come watch us perform.” he smiles widely, eyes creasing and everything. you’re yet again thrown off as he speaks to you with such casual friendliness as though you haven’t practically yelled at all of them and continue to seethe at his guitarist like you want to rip his throat out.

“uh, i…”

“i’m sure miss priss has other things she’d rather do, like dance to swan lake in a feather tutu or something.” taesan finishes your sentence for you, conjuring a string of curses to lace your tongue.

“shut the f—“

“bye, twinkle toes.” he waves you off dismissively, grabbing the neck of his guitar by his multiple ringed fingers as he directs his attention back to his instrument and mic.

“it was nice meeting you, y/n.” riwoo adds somewhat shyly, adjusting the strap of his instrument as well— though much more apologetically.

“see ya’, y/n!” leehan calls before picking up his drumsticks and twirling them in his hands, looking up to taesan for his cue. you watch him cock his chin, the sudden rhythmic pounding of leehan’s drums making you flinch before taesan and riwoo start playing their strings again.

riwoo’s voice starts out soft before slowly raising in volume and you’re shocked by his melodic vocals that contrast so satisfyingly well with the rock instrumentals.

still disgruntled but more off put than anything, you don’t know what more to do than shuffle out of the room, shutting the door behind you as you stare at the air in front of you.

well, guess it’s time to find some earbuds that are sound and pirouette proof.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

you got it. you got the lead role.

all the extra (maybe slightly excessive) practicing, late nights and frustration (which would be a lot less if there wasn’t a band next door) paid off.

you’re playing as princess aurora for your dance studio’s performance of ‘the sleeping beauty’, which will be showing at a local theatre next month.

jaehyun, your good friend and fellow dancer who’s always making you smile and lightening sullen moments during classes— is your dance partner, playing as prince désiré.

the second the both of you found out you got lead roles, jaehyun was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement, insisting that you go out tonight to celebrate.

which is why you find yourself by jaehyun’s side at ‘sundown lounge’, your favorite bar and hang out spot.

“you look good, by the way!” jaehyun attempts to speak over the loud karaoke, leaning a little closer to your ear as you weave through the crowd.

“thanks!” you turn your head to smile at him over your shoulder, hoping your iridescent eyeshadow twinkles under the lights how you wanted it to.

“you do too.” you compliment before someone’s elbow is jabbed into your stomach, squishing yourself against the wall as you and jaehyun try to make it to the bar to order some drinks. “why is it so busy tonight?”

“i don’t know, maybe it’s happy hour!” jaehyun suggests hopefully, but when you finally reach the counter his theory is proven wrong when you’re told everything’s its original price. regardless, you sip on a strawberry margarita while jaehyun holds a glass of something that looks like muddy water before deciding where to sit.

“wanna go there, near the stage?” he asks, pointing over to a table that’s very near the performance area. you’d rather not have to hear a drunk girl sloppily sing a britney spears song right in your ears but jaehyun finds it hilarious, often unable to resist curling in on himself while giggling uncontrollably— and that always makes you laugh. so you nod your head, jaehyun grabbing your hand to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd before leading you to the table.

there’s only two more songs played before the dj hops on the stage, speaking into the mic. “karaoke will be ending as it’s time for the band of tonight to take the stage. give us a few minutes while the performers are setting up!”

some people in the crowd hoot and holler excitedly as jaehyun turns his head to you. “i wonder what type of band will be playing tonight, last weeks was pretty good.”

“it’s punk rock!” a girl excitedly butts in from the table right next to yours, having accidentally overheard your conversation.

“a rock band?” you ask, somewhat groaned in annoyance as you now have a personal vendetta against the genre. but your tone goes completely unnoticed by the girl as her eyes continue to sparkle with enthusiasm.

“yeah! their music’s really good and they’re all super hot, my favorite one plays the electric guitar.”

“what’s their name?” jaehyun asks, curiosity evidently sparked.

“wxnder!” she answers, and your brows furrow with the familiarity of it. where have you heard that name before?

the girl’s head turns at a sound and her mouth drops open, a small uproar caused as some people in the crowd shriek and cheer. the unexpected noise has you flinching before looking towards the stage— and your jaw drops too, but not in a good way.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” you say to yourself in shock, watching as riwoo sits down his amp and plugs it into the wall.

“what?…what!” jaehyun whisper-yells, grabbing onto your arm to try and get your attention.

leehan appears next, sitting down behind the drum set that’s already on stage and wagging his head to adjust his hair, causing another small wave of squeals.

then a broad back covered by a black leather jacket abstracts your view, and he doesn’t even need to turn around for you to know who he is— but he does anyway. the way taesan almost immediately catches your gaze amongst the crowd is infuriating, smirking while glancing down at how close your table is to the stage before looking teasingly into your eyes again.

and it makes you pissed, unbelievably so— yet you feel your cheeks burn as you can’t help but think about how hot he looks, the stage lights glinting off his lip ring and drawing your eyes towards them.

have his lips always been so…plump?

taesan winks at you before looking down to tune his guitar, hands gripping the neck of it. veins pop out from the contours of his knuckles; long, thick fingers adorned with silver rings picking at the strings.

fuck…

“y/n?” jaehyun tries again, and you finally respond with the shake of your head, downing the remainder of your drink like it’s a shot.

“it’s nothing.” you insist.

after a few minutes of setting up, tuning, and making sure everything’s in order; taesan introduces the group (not that he exactly needs to, since it seems the bar is full of their fans), saying that their opening song will be ‘take my tears’, a song he wrote himself.

usually you and jaehyun talk throughout a band's live performance, as they’ll be playing all night— but you can’t seem to look away as you listen to the lyrics and how they perform.

it’s entrancing— much different than when you’re trying to ignore them through the studio walls. the song is somewhat emotional, beautiful; yet it also has such a fun and freeing feel. or maybe it’s just the way they sing it— how taesan sings it, his body grooving and head nodding to the beat of their sound. the lyrics aren’t what you’d expect from him— the guy you thought he was, and it leaves you wondering what more there is to him that you wouldn’t expect.

your heart skips a beat, and you’re not sure if it’s just the thrill of the rock music or if it’s because of him; the annoying, pompous punk who suddenly looks so sexy when he’s performing. (and never any other time. definitely not.)

you’ve just finished your second margarita and are a little buzzed by the time their set is finished, the night passing faster than you realized.

jaehyun is eating on a basket of fries, yapping away so fervently that he doesn’t even notice how you’ve gotten up from the table and are approaching taesan— who again locks eyes with you as he walks down the steps of the stage to meet you halfway.

“so, what did you think?” he asks, a little out of breath from the long performance, having had no breaks in between songs.

he stands closely so you can hear him— and it’s enough for you to smell his cologne; to see the way sweat clings to the skin of his neck; deep breaths coming out in puffs as his chest expands. something about it all has an effect on you— or maybe it’s something in the air, because taesan doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes rake over your body, admiring your legs in your denim mini skirt.

“you..you guys were amazing.” you compliment, sounding a little out of breath yourself.

taesan makes a ‘hm’ sound, faintly smiling at you while biting his lip— and you swear you see the glint of metal on his tongue.

your body heats up as you wonder if his tongue is pierced too, what kind of things he could do to you with it, what it would feel like against your skin— before you frantically try and dismiss the increasingly dirty thoughts, reminding yourself that the man you’re fantasizing about is right in front of you.

“i didn’t think you’d actually come.” taesan says, speaking in a teasing tone that you swear seems flirty paired with the slight quirk of his brow.

“how’d you even know we’d be here? did you stalk us, princess?”

okay, surely that was flirting, right?

you’re about to playfully roll your eyes, paired with a smart little comment and deny that’d you’d ever be interested enough to ‘stalk’ them— until the girl that spoke to you about wxnder earlier suddenly appears, putting herself between you and taesan.

“you were absolutely amazing, taesan.” the girl croons, confidently placing her hand on his forearm as she leans all up in his personal space.

and you expect him to shrug her off, either politely or not-so politely establish some distance between them. but again, he surprises you— in a way you absolutely hate.

he smirks at her, in just the same way he did to you just moments ago— and leans even closer to her face, unneededly close.

“aren’t you sweet. thank you so much.”

“no problem.” the girl smiles cattily, clearly enjoying the attention.

something in your heart burns, and that familiar feeling of uncontrollable annoyance comes back even worse than before.

“do you think i could get your autograph?”

“sure, princess.” taesan answers lowly— and that does it.

without even feeling the urge to look back and see that girl all over him, you’re gone, picking up a drunk jaehyun by his arm.

“wh— where are we going?” jaehyun drunkenly slurs, eyes glossed over as they look at you.

“to get an uber home.” you answer firmly, eyes hard as you once again weave through the crowd.

you feel eyes on your back, but you ignore it until you get to the door, turning your head as jaehyun leans half of his body weight against you. even amongst all the faces, you and taesan’s eyes meet easily, his arm now slung around the girl’s waist as she whispers something in his ear.

his lips are in that same smirk— like he’s taunting you, and you scoff, dragging jaehyun and yourself out of the bar.

you can’t believe you were actually feeling into him— but you surely don’t have to worry about that now.

he’s just confirmed that he is in fact what you thought he was: an absolute ass and a cocky player who sings on stage to get girls in his bed.

well, fuck him. he can get his dick wet with anyone he wants but it sure as hell won’t be you.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

the very next day you’re back at the dance studio, rehearsing for the upcoming performance.

jaehyun whines the whole day, saying that it’s somehow your fault that he got drunk off his ass— but despite that, he does incredibly well during class. you do also, but unbeknownst to you, your friend wonders why you seem so tense— like something has been bothering you all day.

“shouldn’t you go home and rest, y/n?” jaehyun asks you at the end of class hours. everyone else is packing up their totes and leaving, yet you’re stood at the ballet barre doing leg exercises.

“i’ll be fine. practice makes perfect.” you insist, keeping your eyes on your form in the mirrored wall.

“well..just don’t overwork yourself, okay?” jaehyun sweetly tells you, and you flash him a thankful smile through the mirror.

“don’t worry, yunie, i wont. see you tomorrow.”

if it weren’t for the absolute beast you’re known to be in the studio, jaehyun would force you out of your pointe shoes and drag you home himself— but you don’t seem even a little bit tired, and it appears as though you have some steam to blow off.

so jaehyun and you exchange goodbyes before he leaves you in the empty classroom. (yes, completely empty— aside from the lady at the front desk. no one is as obsessive as you to want to stay even another second practicing when you already have for the whole day— on a saturday night, no less.)

you spend the next thirty minutes going over the steps you learned today that you don’t have down perfectly yet, having small cool downs in the form of stretching in between.

‘entrée d’aurore’ is still playing on your phone when you hear the distant voices of what must be the front desk lady and someone else speaking. you wonder if somebody has returned to get some extra practice in as well, and as you hear footsteps approaching, you remain sitting on the floor doing toe touches.

the door to the classroom opens, echoing slightly in the big, empty space— you lift your head to see someone who definitely is not a part of the sleeping beauty cast.

“y/n?” taesan says somewhat quietly, eyes looking around the big room that only holds one ballerina, who looks small in comparison to the high ceilings and vacant space.

your eyebrows furrow, somewhat irritated to see him while also being surprised— not only by his presence but by the unfamiliar way he almost looks sheepish: barely taking a few steps inside the classroom, looking around like he expects someone or yourself to scold him and kick him out.

“…don’t tell me you auditioned.” you joke, although it’s said casually. your eyes only scrutinize him for a second before you look back down to your own hands as you stretch them across your straightened legs and to your toes.

taesan has seen you a handful of times when you’re in your casual practice wear, but what you’re clad in for an official performance class is a little different. you’re wearing a black leotard with a little mesh skirt, a cropped shirt overtop, tights, and black leg warmers.

you look..really cute. even when you’re pretending to ignore him.

“no. the lady at the front desk said you were in here.” he explains lamely, all his usual snarky remarks not coming to his thoughts as he watches you in your element.

“good. i don’t want to see you in tights anyway. not your aesthetic.”

“sure you don’t.”

your head snaps to look at him before you can think not to react, cheeks heating up as you see the twinkle in his eyes and the small smile he tries to conceal by pressing down his lips.

you sigh as though you’re bothered— because you are— obviously…and get up from your floor stretches to walk over to the ballet barre again. taesan follows you.

“i don’t know why you’re here but i’m practicing. you should leave.”

“who was that with you at the bar last night?”

your cold indifference is broken at the unexpected question, your expression clearly confused as you look at the man standing beside you in the mirrored wall.

“what, jaehyun? he’s my friend. he wanted to go out to celebrate our castings. y’know, for the performance i’m trying to practice for right now?”

“so it was a date.” taesan remarks, eyes hardening right in front of you— and there’s that angered burn in your chest again, your hands squeaking from how tightly they hold onto the barre as your expression turns sour.

“who i date isn’t any of your business to speculate. i haven’t asked you what you and that fangirl got up to last night, have i?” you snap, raising a challenging brow at him— but it only makes him shake his head in unbelief, staring at you like you’re an absolute idiot.

“what? y/n, i don’t even know her name.”

“yes, well, i’m not surprised over that. i’m guessing it’s not very important for you to learn a girl’s name— as long as you’re in between her legs by the end of the night.”

his hand is on your shoulder, turning you around to face him abruptly as he stands closely, right in front of you.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean? you think i fucked her?”

“i don’t want to know what you di—“

“shut the fuck up.” taesan orders, his fingers curling over your wrists making you wonder when they got there in the first place.

“make me.” someone (you?) says, and then you feel the cold press of taesan’s lip ring against your mouth.

it’s firm at first: the way his lips slam into yours, how both of your expressions still look pissed off at each other, even with both of your eyes closed. but eventually you seem to realize that taesan is actually kissing you— and then you’re melting into him, sighing as you feel his touch soften in response.

his kiss quickly turns demanding, lips moving against yours in pursuit of your taste. you squeak when his teeth bite at your bottom lip, not knowing you’ve fallen right into his trap until his tongue has already seized the opportunity and invaded your mouth. turns out you weren’t wrong when you thought you spotted a ball stud piercing on taesan’s tongue, you can most definitely feel it when he brushes it against your own appendage.

your head is pushed against the mirror from his vigor and you whimper, never having felt so dominated simply by a man’s kiss; taesan explores your mouth like he owns it, like it’s his, and it makes your core pulse, a flicker of neediness growing.

the rough groan he lets out as his hands move to roam and grasp at your waist hints at his possessiveness, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin material of your leotard.

“didn’t fuck her. didn’t want to.” he murmurs between the eager movements of his lips. “just wanted to make you jealous.”

“wh— why?” you manage breathily, taesan pressing his body against yours as your hands move to brace yourself on the barre.

“because i like you, y/n.” he smiles and huffs in disbelief at your denseness.

“i want to take you on a date— whether you let me between your legs or not.” he smirks, referring to your earlier harsh remark and making you cringe at the reference.

“i…i’d like that.” you say shyly, looking at him through your lashes. “the date— and..and the other thing too.”

“the other thing?” taesan repeats, confused as you only avoid his gaze, not further explaining— but funnily enough, your sudden bashful attitude is what makes it click in his mind.

“princess?” he experimentally calls, pleased when you automatically lift your head to look at him. his tongue unconsciously peaks out to play with his lip ring as he cockily grins, hand creeping up from your waist to pinch your chin between his fingers.

“why don’t you be a big girl and tell me what you mean?”

your nose crinkles, a pathetic attempt at defiance amidst your embarrassment. taesan’s other hand pinches the tender skin of your thigh, causing you to flinch and whimper at the slight pain as he makes a disapproving sound under his breath.

“come on, y/n. be good or i won’t give you what you want.”

“i— i want you...i meant—”

taesan does anything but go easy on you, eyes dark with mischief as he lowers his head to nibble at your neck. you squeeze your thighs together, looking for relief from the way your pussy now pulses prominently.

his hands move in tandem, one cradling along your jawline while the other brushes up and down your thigh, making you annoyed at your tights with how they keep you from feeling the cold brush of his rings against your skin.

you want them off. you want taesan to take them off. so you admit it.

“want you to fuck me. please, taesan.”

“awe,” he coos. “aren’t you a sweet one.”

you swear the tone in which he says those words turn you into goo, your hands releasing the barre to desperately hold onto his shirt.

“please.” you beg, finding yourself only wanting more praise— more of him— just anything he’s willing to give you.

taesan is able to identify the look in your eyes, staring at your lips and leaning down so slowly, making you whine at his teasing until he finally grants you mercy and kisses you again.

it’s dirtier than before: a lot more spit, moans, and movement from both of your tongues. taesan’s leg leans against the wall between your thighs, and whether it was his purpose to give you relief or not, you take the opportunity and hesitantly grind your core against his ripped jeans.

the pleasure is immediate, sending a tingle up your spine that has you arching against his chest, forgetting any shame as you begin to earnestly grind your hips against him. the thin layers covering your core paired with the roughness of taesan’s denim creates a wonderful friction, feeling how wet you’ve become in your panties.

“shit, you’re such a slut for it.” taesan remarks in genuine awe after breaking the kiss to watch the little show you’re putting on. his eyes take in every movement, from the way you rock against him to how your eyes squeeze shut and you tilt your head back.

the previous song playing on your phone has long since finished as some other tune now plays from your playlist— taesan suddenly becoming aware of it and that he has a girl whimpering and riding his thigh in the middle of a dance classroom.

he abruptly pulls away, the presence between your legs disappearing as you conjure a bratty sound from your throat.

“y/n,” taesan scolds in a harsh whisper. “did you forget where we are?”

“thought you said you’d fuck me if i was good?” you argue, flashing him a defiant expression.

“you think using my thigh to get yourself off without my permission is being good?”

your eyes widen, not expecting him to call you out on it.

looking to the floor and hearing taesan’s responding laugh at your childishness, it only makes the desire to act out against him stronger— you’re just not sure how you can do it in this moment.

“get your things. we can go to my place.” taesan offers, your stomach fluttering at the idea as you do what he says— moving to grab your phone, bag, and change out of your ballet wear.

your heart is pounding out of your chest and what’s between your legs hasn’t calmed down at all either by the time you walk out of the dance studio and sit in the passenger seat of taesan’s car.

and the drive is just as excruciating.

the man seems hellbent on teasing you by not giving you a drop of attention, keeping his eyes on the road while some rock song plays through the speakers. and you know he knows what he’s doing, how you can’t keep his eyes off of him, because the corner of his mouth is subtly turned.

you see no reason to hide it since he’s already aware, so you stare at him— once again admiring how hot his hands look wrapped around the steering wheel, the contours of his jawline and perfect side profile illuminated by the low hanging sun.

your eyes keep wandering— down, down, down until you get to his lap, where you see the large bulge tenting his pants.

your mouth waters and your hands twitch, wondering if he’s really as big as he looks and hoping you’ll get to find out by the end of tonight.

then you’re struck with an idea, recognizing the perfect opportunity you have right now— and you reach your hand out confidently to grope him over his pants.

you’re so proud at the way it makes taesan softly gasp under his breath, back stiffening at the unexpected touch. you mold your hand over his clothed dick, rubbing and gently squeezing— in all the right ways apparently, as you feel him twitch in your hands— even through the thick denim fabric.

“y/n, stop it.” taesan grits, and you hear the squeak of what you guess is his hands gripping tightly around the steering wheel. you don’t look at him until after you’ve located the head of his cock, rubbing over it with your thumb and meeting his fiery glare with a teasing bite to your lip— clearly pleased with yourself.

taesan is visibly pissed at your blatant act of defiance, but he gives you one more chance in the form of a threat.

“you’re not very patient, are you, princess? keep touching my dick like that and you won’t even get to see it out of my pants.”

your hand immediately stills— the man releasing a huff of disbelief when you pull your hand away completely to lay both of your hands on your lap, avoiding his gaze as you stare ahead.

not another word is shared, taesan enjoying the way you nervously squirm in your seat as he finally pulls into his apartment’s parking lot.

“stay.” he simply orders once he’s parked, and you’re left confused as he exits the car, only to watch him come around and open your door for you— even going as far to unbuckle your seatbelt and keep a firm hold around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs of his building. it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach yet your insides twist with nervous anticipation— because he does it all with the same stern eyes he spoke to you with as he threatened not to fuck you.

when the key is twisted and his front door lightly squeaks open— his residence somehow looks exactly how you thought; dark, moody, vintage rock posters and memorabilia hanging on the walls.

you expect him to be cheesy and press you against his door the moment it’s closed, but he doesn’t— instead walking over leisurely to his couch and sitting down, legs widely spread in an oddly commanding and powerful way.

your eyes widen at the arousing image, feeling yourself become sheepish as taesan lets his eyes roam over your form without shame.

“why do you look so shy now? you were such a disobedient little slut in the car.”

you swallow, hardly able but trying to hold eye contact with him as your face heats up in a delicious sort of shame.

taesan sighs as though he’s annoyed with your silence, patting one thigh with his hand.

“come here.”

“…h— huh?”

“don’t make me say it again, y/n.” he orders— and next thing you know, your body is moving to straddle the leg he’s directed you to sit on.

“there we go. guess princesses can take orders sometimes, hm?” he rhetorically asks, but you’re nodding your head anyway.

taesan just stares at you for a bit, admiring how pretty you look sitting and waiting for what he’ll do next, so different from the bratty attitude you had during the car ride.

then his hands rest on your bare waist, giving him easy access as you had disregarded your leotard before leaving the studio, now only wearing your cropped shirt and athletic shorts.

you’re unable to conceal the shuddered inhale you take as taesan’s hands creep upward, seeing him smirk at the sound before his hands slip under your shirt and reach your tits.

“no bra?” he teases, biting his lip as his fingers pinch at your hard nipples.

“n— no,” you struggle out, flinching lightly as taesan plays with your tits without any restraint, like your body is his toy. the contrast of his cool rings against your heated skin causes goosebumps to rise on the surface of your arms, chest pushing further into his hands. “didn’t think there was any p—..point.”

you watch as taesan shakes his head like he’s disappointed, yet he’s smiling darkly.

“dirty girl.” he remarks, giving a firmer pinched tug to your hard bud and forcing a whimper to escape from between your lips. “just take everything off then.”

you’re quicker to do what he says this time, only letting your sudden shy attitude make you hesitate for a moment before getting up from his lap to discard your clothing to his floor, keeping eye contact with taesan as best as you can manage— as he seems pleased when you do. he lets out a hungry exhale when you take off your shirt and your tits are revealed to his eyes, hand leisurely jerking himself off over his pants by the time your shorts are removed— leaving you only in your underwear.

“is that a thong, princess?” taesan asks breathily, eyes slightly widening in what you think might be surprise.

“yeah? it’s…it’s what i always wear underneath my leotard.” you confirm, somewhat confused— until taesan speaks again, hand moving up and down his dick faster.

“fuck, just— just didn’t expect such a prissy girl like you to— shit, i don’t know. you’re so hot.”

you smile— and it’s equally sexy and cute in a way that makes taesan feel like he’s going to go insane if you don’t get back on his lap right away. your fingers slip beneath the band of your panties to tug them off, but he stops you before you can.

“don’t. keep them on, wanna see you make a mess in them for me.”

a part of you— the bratty side— wants to say you already have, the dark spot from your leaking arousal evidence of it. but you don’t, the desire to listen actually winning over as you remove your hands from your hips and straddle his thigh again. you hover this time, not fully sitting down as you’re embarrassed for him to feel your wetness directly against his bare skin, which are revealed through the large holes in his jeans.

but taesan catches on immediately, tutting fondly as his hands squeeze at your hips.

“all the way.” he drawls, like he’s giving a ditzy dog a command they’re struggling to understand— and it makes your stomach flip, hurrying to do as he says.

you know he feels it, how your panties clinging to your wet pussy lips press against his thigh— and as he bites at his lip, drawing your eyes to his twinkling piercing yet again— your face burns as you’re sure he’s probably looking at the glistening residue you’ve surely left on his skin.

“good girl.” he mutters roughly, you whining in response as your hands fist into the material of his shirt.

you feel like such a slut, sitting on a man’s lap almost completely bare while he’s fully clothed, your needy pussy slowly drenching his thigh in your juices; and you sound like one too as taesan leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth.

you gasp and stutter— unsure of what you’re even trying to say as taesan chuckles around your bud, continuing to flick and roll his pierced tongue over you. the contrast of his warm appendage and the occasional brush of round metal against your skin makes you sensitive, hole clenching around nothing with every other swipe of his tongue.

“like that?” he whispers before switching to give your other breast attention.

“yes,” you quietly moan, wrapping your arms around to grip and play with the hair at the nape of his neck, subsequently pushing his face deeper into your tits.

he likes that— if his responding groan is anything to judge by, his hands pulling your hips forward and drawing a more unabashed sound from your lips at the movement.

“use me. get your little pussy off on my thigh.”

“fuck— yes,” you obey, rocking your hips and finding a rhythm.

“shit. that’s it, baby.” he coos, his hand suddenly reigning down against your ass a contrast to his soft tone as it leaves your skin tingling with heat. “just a few little touches is all it takes to get the brat out of you, huh?”

you scoff at that— though it’s interrupted by a moan when taesan flexes his thigh. shame burns your skin and his little remark makes you want to act out again, but all you can do is grind your pussy against him, gasping and going faster whenever your covered clit gets brushed over just right.

your hands that are still tangled in his hair pull to disconnect his mouth from your tits, leaning down to kiss him instead. taesan doesn’t scold you for the demanding gesture— but he does lift a hand to grasp it over your throat. he doesn’t squeeze, but the simple act makes you feel so good and dominated— and his other hand which gropes at your ass and snaps the string waistband of your thong has you falling further into delirium.

“please— please, tae. wanna cum.”

“then cum.” he says simply, and when you finally open your squeezed shut eyes, he’s staring at your desperate face with amusement— and just like that, you’re pissed.

“taesan! i can’t! not— not enough!” you whine, not even able to think about how pathetic you sound.

“you’re cumming by my thigh or not at all. this is what you get for acting like a fucking whore while i was driving.”

you whisper out a sigh, and it’s so broken and helpless as you rock your hips earnestly against him that he almost feels bad— but the bigger part of him is proud; proud in a dark and twisted way at how he’s dwindled the ballerina down to nothing but a mindless slut that’s practically crying with the need to cum.

another spank is delivered to your ass and you flinch, taesan’s hand around your neck getting a little firmer as he forces your teary eyes to look up at him— and you feel like a dog in heat as your hips never stop their efforts to bring you to release.

“please.” you beg, and taesan’s eyes turn hazey at the beautiful sound.

“come on, princess. i know you can do it for me.” he encourages— and turns out that’s all you needed.

taesan gets an up close view as your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth dropping open in a silent cry as he feels you ruin your panties even further.

his thigh is dripping as you keep rutting your hips against him, letting out small whimpers as you work yourself through your high. taesan grants you mercy at the very end, helping you grind your hips before eventually slowing you to a stop.

then he’s picking you up and carrying you into what you can only assume is his bedroom— because in the next moment he’s laying you down on a black comforter-covered mattress and stripping off his clothes.

you’re panting, still catching your breath— but you still manage to make a somewhat teasing comment as the man’s bare chest is revealed to you.

“no tattoos?”

taesan looks up at you right after pulling his shirt over his head, black hair disheveled and brushing over his eyes as he smirks silently at you and combs it out of his face.

“i thought all emo’s had tattoos.” you tack on— and that gets him to respond.

“emo?! i’m not emo, i’m fucking punk!” he argues, somewhat offended but mostly amused as he works on removing his jeans.

“emo, punk, metalhead. it’s all the same thing.” you offhandedly say.

“…i’m about to go soft.” taesan threatens.

“kidding!” you laugh, sitting up on your elbows— and the smile is completely wiped off your face when taesan removes his boxers and his dick is finally freed, slapping against his abs.

“shit..” you whisper to yourself, watching as taesan rolls a condom on before climbing on the bed and caging you underneath him with his body.

“need me to stretch you first, princess?” taesan sweetly asks after peeling off your drenched panties, hand brushing up and down your hip soothingly.

as much as you want his sexy fingers in your cunt— you can’t wait any longer, spreading your legs for him as you flash him your best puppy-dog eyes.

“no. please just fuck me, taesanie. need you.”

“god…” taesan sighs, not making you wait anymore as he lines his head to your entrance before pushing in slowly. “oh, fuck. you’re so tight, princess.”

your chest heaves as he pushes into the hilt, your hands gripping against the sheets.

“move. fuck me hard, please. want it rough.”

you think you hear taesan mutter something about you being a dream before his pulling out till just the tip is stretching your hole— and slamming back inside.

you both turn a little animalistic and desperate, learning how the other feels and bodies being taken over by the pleasure of it. taesan’s cock stretches you out so good— he fucks you so good. the rocking of his bed frame hits against his wall, and you have a fleeting thought about if the walls are thin and if he’ll get a noise complaint— before all that is forgotten as taesan takes hold of one of your thighs and bends it against your chest.

“feel it, baby? feel how fucking bad i want you?” taesan groans between his teeth, hand squeezing tightly around your leg unconsciously— and you secretly hope it leaves mark indentations from his rings; tiny bruises from his fingers you can admire the next day.

you only can respond so his deeply uttered words with a broken moan, and taesan only fucks you harder.

“that’s it, princess got what she wanted.” he coos, eyes surprising you by how they turn a little soft— though the movement of his hips certainly never do. “always give my princess what she wants.”

you whine at that, grabbing him by the shoulders to ask for a kiss.

“fuck, you drive me crazy, y/n.” he breathes before leaning down to yet again give you what you ask for.

“but i like that about you.” he finishes between kisses.

your thighs are trembling in pleasure, sweat is lining your hairline and glistening from taesan’s chest— and you can’t take it anymore, wrapping your legs around taesan’s waist as your nails dig into his back.

“can i come, please? oh, fff— please?”

“such a good fucking slut when you got a cock in you, huh? can’t believe my princess likes it rough.”

his hand manages to squeeze between your bodies despite how tightly you cling to him, his fingers finding your clit and tracing shapes over it.

“cum, baby. get it all over my sheets.”

your body going stiff before trembling uncontrollably against him, all while your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock— it brings taesan to release as well, pressing his mouth to yours to swallow each other's cries of pleasure.

the come down is slow, taesan rolling over and pulling your body on top of his so he doesn’t accidentally fall against you in exhaustion.

your deep breaths puff warmly against his neck as he cradles you on his chest, hands swirling patterns over your back absentmindedly.

“that was…amazing.” you say around a sigh, enjoying the comforting aroma of taesan’s cologne imbedded into his sheets.

“yeah…are you done?” taesan asks, still breathy yet curious— and you raise your head to look at his face.

“you want to go again?”

“well,” taesan starts, somewhat sheepishly— yet his eyes hold that constant playful sparkle. “just thought you might be curious what it feels like to get eaten out with a piercing.”

your eyes widen, clearly shocked by not only the question but at how correct he is.

“come on, princess. you’re not slick. don’t think i didn’t notice you staring at it when we were at the bar. plus, you did say you wanted me between your legs—“

“can you stop bringing that up!?”

note ; and for anyone wondering, yes, taesan went to reader’s ballet performance. (and yes, he got jealous watching her and jaehyun dancing on stage together…part two material?🤭)

all taglists (perm/fluff/smut) are open if anyone would like to be added! age must be in bio/somewhere on pinned post if you want to be tagged in perm/smut taglist.