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[camandemstudios]

camandemstudios Seventeen TA collab taglist

@woozidanisms @haneulparadx @aaniag @intoanothermind @abibliolife

@awritersescape @hyeisssante @thepoopdokyeomtouched @jnginlov @chanichanvhan

@baalkoo @odevote118 @jenowithjaem @Scoupsjin @dreamsbloomout

@hopelessromanticbella @tacosandbitch @mankidoll @wonhannie @vlbi

@cookiearmy @lllucere @soonsgrl @leemoonna @futuristicenemychaos

@bobathi @tigerhoshii @dxntletmegxyoonie @lukeys-giggle @z0mh0lic

@shiannprincess101 @dawgyeom @coffeesweetx @milkyruins @leticiaesteveslp

@idk13me @quiescentlyme @monamipencil @bspoju @ahuiahoe

@min-has-trusttissues @atinyinateezverse @cowboydk @avocifera @allieyaaa

@chrollo-s-princess @sourkimchi @gyukissr @impossiblecollectivekoala @wqnwoos

@ourkivee @wondrousies @cheoliehansoliereblogs @svtrightherekids @weakformingyu

@wwjagabeee @taesungx @moonjeonhui @black-swan-blog27 @leahhhher

@gyuguys @c-oupsie @sarabencze @bittersweet-folder @hyeisssante

@variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lizza2001 @svteensworld @leigh-darling @roidagobertlvr

@Sheilogreen @livinlikelarry2934

love between the lines | chwe vernon

SUMMARY: despite the initial nerves of your new gig as an english literature TA, you’re ready to tackle the new job. that’s where you meet vernon, the computer science TA, and he’s interesting to say the least. he’s all about coding and numbers while you live and breathe poetry and novels. it’s clear that you both have contrasting interests and personalities - but they say opposites attract, right?

PAIRING: TA!vernon x TA!reader

THEMES: opposites attract, strangers to lovers, chaotic x calm dynamic

WARNINGS: fluff, kissing, silly antics

WORDCOUNT: 12k

A/N: this is part of the SVT TA collab hosted by @camandemstudios. and thank you to @gyuswhore and @highvern for hosting this collab and inviting me to join! i've been so excited about this, i hope you all enjoy reading! and do check out everyone else's work on this collab as well!

it’s been a week since you got the gig as an english literature TA at the university and you were thrilled despite the nervousness. you adjust the stack of poetry books and textbooks under your arm as you walk, feeling both excitement and nerves as you head to your fourth class of the week. thankfully it seemed like the students really liked you and your teaching methods, which you were utterly grateful for, otherwise you might have just quit then and there.

you’re so lost in your thoughts, that you collide with someone coming from around the corner. papers fly and scatter in all directions, and you look up to see the stranger in front of you, wide-eyed. “woah”, is all he says as he looks at you, rather calm despite the chaos that you seem to have caused around him.

“oh god, i'm so sorry!" you exclaim, bending down to help gather the papers, his papers, which were now scattered all over the floor.

the stranger doesn’t say much as he kneels beside you and reaches out to collect the sheets of papers. "no worries, it's not like these papers were organized to begin with”, he says, which somehow seems to ease your nerves. 

you let out a small nervous chuckle as you collect the stray papers, your hands brushing accidentally. you glance down nervously, picking up your scattered books. 

“are you new around here?”, he asks, recalling that he’s not seen you around before.

“yeah, i just joined the english literature department as a TA”, you tell, but he had sort of already deciphered that information with the stack of books you were carrying. he’d heard that someone had filled in that position last week, but never got around to being introduced to the person, until now.

“i’m vernon, the computer science TA”, he says and you smile softly at that piece of information. “nice to meet you”, you reply and you hand him the papers you had gathered. you tell him something about how you were running late for a lecture and part ways as he nods and goes back to his way. 

it’s another work day and you’re in your office, typing away on your laptop as you plan some material for the next lecture. but your laptop seems to be glitching and working slower than usual. you furrow your brows in confusion as the file seems to be taking a little too long to download. you sigh and stare at your laptop screen, watching the download bar stay stuck at the same percentage for ten minutes now. you click your tongue in frustration and lean back in your chair. that’s when your mind wanders to vernon - he’d probably know what was going on. sure, you barely knew the guy, never spoke to him after you had bumped into him that day, but hey, was asking for help a crime? besides, maybe you could use this opportunity to get to know him better, plus he seemed like a decent guy. so you carry your laptop and head to vernon’s space, knocking on the slightly open door. 

“come in”, he says, without looking up, his brows furrowed in concentration as he stares at his laptop screen.

“if this is about an extension on the deadline then oh-”, vernon starts but stops when he looks up and sees you. 

“hi, sorry i hope i’m not interrupting anything?”, you ask as you stand in front of vernon with your laptop open in your hands.

“oh, no-no, what’s up?”, he asks, as he leans back in his chair a little.

“my laptop is acting kinda weird, it’s become really slow and stuff is taking ages to download. i thought you might know what’s the issue”, you tell, setting your laptop down on the table next to him.

he moves his laptop aside and brings yours in front of him as he tries to figure out the issue. your eyes wander to his laptop adorned with stickers and you read one of them.

why do programmers prefer dark mode? because light attracts bugs, you read in your mind and furrow your brows as it takes a few seconds for the joke to make sense before you smile softly at the joke.

you read another programming joke sticker that was slapped on his laptop and you laugh to yourself. “i think i’ve found the problem”, vernon says, snapping you back to reality and your eyes find him as you walk over to see what he was talking about. 

“your storage is almost critically full, that’s why your laptop has slowed down. you should probably transfer some files to a hard drive and clear up some space on your laptop”, he explains and you nod at the new information vernon provides you with. see, it was a good idea you asked vernon for help or god knows what you might have done otherwise, thinking it might have been some other issue.

“oh, okay, i’m glad it’s not a major issue”, you add, relieved because you did not need your laptop dying out on you right now.

“no worries”, he says as he hands you back your laptop. you would have very much liked to stay back and talk to him more, but he looked so busy with whatever he was doing. you didn’t want to be a bother, so you leave, telling him thank you as you leave. 

after that, you seem to see vernon and bump into him more, whether it be at the hallways or between classes. the one thing you couldn't help but notice was how vernon's constant companion was his laptop. he carried that thing everywhere like his life depended on it. and the condition of his laptop? that thing was covered in stickers, some with obscure programming jokes and others, which were a random mix of stickers that you were convinced he just slapped on there because he had nowhere else to put them. the other thing that was always a constant with him was the pair of headphones that adorned his neck. you swear you had never really seen him without those two things.

in your first two weeks as a TA, you discovered a new talent: bumping into people. apparently, your talent for bumping into people was unparalleled. why? because reading a book and walking down the hallways was definitely not advised. you might as well have been walking blindfolded with the number of students and faculty you accidently bumped into your first two weeks. that’s one way to make a first impression. 

you were glad it wasn’t anything worse, but you needed to get your act together and you were hoping that things would ease up and smooth out soon. but if only you knew how wrong you were. it was like the universe was purposely conspiring against you to not have your TA gig go smoothly. you’re packing up to leave when you realize you can’t find your novel anywhere. you swear you had bought it along with you today to read on the bus, but now it was nowhere to be seen. you try to think of where you could have misplaced it and decide to check the lecture room since you might have left it there. you had rushed out of the room after the lecture so maybe you had forgotten it over there. 

you walk to the lecture hall (without bumping into anyone thankfully) and enter, spotting vernon there. you walk in quietly, not wanting to disturb him since he looked really focused on whatever he was doing. the door closes behind you and your eyes scan the room for your book and voila, you spot it on the edge of the table where vernon was sitting. you quietly go up to him and grab your book when vernon looks up.

“i just forgot my book here”, you say immediately, like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t be before you turn around. you mentally slap yourself because why were you so nervous? you walk towards the door and your hand reaches out, grabbing onto the handle. but when you push the handle down, it doesn’t budge. you try again but it still doesn’t seem to move. you try to pull the door open but still no luck. what the hell?

you take a deep breath and try to open the door again, but find it stubbornly jammed. you wiggled the handle, pulled, and pushed it, but it remained immovably shut. vernon finally looks up with all the commotion you seem to be causing and he looks at you with a puzzled expression.

“is everything okay over there?” he asks as he looks at you. 

“yeah totally, just on my way out”, you lie as you try the door handle again but it refuses to budge and you sigh. 

“um, i think the door’s stuck,” you finally admit, your voice tinged with frustration as you turn to look back at vernon.

“oh”, is all he says before he closes his laptop shut with a soft thud and stands up. you watch as he walks over in your direction and tries the door handle, only to find it jammed like you said.

“i told them this door handle needed to be changed, it was bound to get jammed one day or the other,” he says.

“so we’re locked in,” you declare dramatically, eyes wide as you look at vernon.

“yeah, i guess,” vernon responds with a nonchalant shrug, as if being trapped in a room is just another regular tuesday evening for him. 

“but how do we get out?” you ask, your voice rising in pitch as you look at vernon.

“i guess i could try to pick the lock, but since it’s jammed i don’t think that would work”, he says.

“pick the lock?”, you ask, almost horrified at his suggestion. “are you serious? we should call security or something”, you say instead. 

vernon leans against the wall, clearly unfazed. “yeah, sure, but calling security sounds so... formal. plus there’s no guarantee they’ll actually come on time, so i guess we’re stuck here for a while”, he says with a light shrug of his shoulders.

you didn’t like the way vernon was so calm about this entire situation right now. you look at him, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “are you seriously this relaxed about being trapped in here?”

vernon tilts his head, as he looks at you. “yeah, why not? it’’s not like we’re in a life-or-death situation, it’s just a door, we’ll get out eventually.”

“eventually?” you repeat, your agitation growing. “what if ‘eventually’ turns into hours? what if we’re stuck here until everyone goes home for the day? do you really think that’s okay?”

“someone is bound to find us in the morning”, he says like he’s had experience being locked in a room before and is totally okay with spending the night trapped in here. 

“i’m calling security”, you declare, as you dig your phone out of your jeans pocket, unable to comprehend vernon’s suggestion. as you explain the situation to the security, you can’t help but glance over at vernon, who’s back by the desk, perfectly calm and composed unlike you. 

“alright, so security’s on their way,” you announce after a few minutes once you get off the phone. “they should be here in about... well, soon i hope”

“cool”, is all vernon says before silence envelops you both again. you walk up and take a seat in one of the lecture hall chairs up front. 

“what are you working on?”, you ask vernon, in an attempt to make conversation because the awkward atmosphere in the air right now is killing you.

“just the assignment for the students”, he replies and you nod. “right”, you reply, fidgeting with your hands and fingers, trying to find some sort of distraction or thing to ground yourself back to reality. 

you both stay quiet and time drags on. you’re praying for security or someone to come and save you because you couldn't do this any longer. 

you’re sitting in silence, staring at the ground, lost in your thoughts when suddenly a loud sound erupts, jolting and scaring you and you end up knocking your ankle on the table leg and you yelp in pain. 

you hear some voices outside the door and realize it must be security as they tried to forcefully open the door. vernon glances over at you.

“are you okay?”, he asks, standing up, looking a little concerned.

“y-yeah i’m fine”, you tell, waving your hand so he wouldn’t come closer, mostly embarrassed and desperately trying to convince him you weren’t a klutz.

once the door is successfully open, you almost make a run for it and make it back to your office, out of breath, suddenly rethinking your life choices and cursing. once safely inside, you collapse into your chair, mentally cursing for once again making a complete fool of yourself in front of vernon. it’s only after another minute you realize you had left your novel behind - again.

once your ankle feels a bit better and isn’t throbbing in pain anymore, you decide to go back to fetch your book. you’re in half a mind to just leave it there and go home because you did not want to see vernon again, not after what happened. but of course, the universe hates you and as fate would have it, you see vernon by the door of your office, holding your novel.

“hi, um you left your book back there”, he says as he takes a step inside.

you blink at him, then at the book, and finally manage a weak smile. “oh, silly me. thanks,” you say, taking the book, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt.

a few days later when you’re walking through the hallways, there seems to be a buzz in the air. you spot vernon walking in the hallways, headphones in as he seems to bob his head along to whatever music was playing. you watch as a few students approach him in excitement and speak to him. he keenly takes off his headphones and listens, smiling a little and you can hear him say “thank you” before walking off. this seems to happen a few times and you’re really starting to wonder why. you turn around as you ask your friend and fellow TA.

“why is everyone going up to vernon? did something happen?”, you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

“you didn’t hear? he got first place in the hackathon competition. it’s a pretty big competition, so it’s a pretty big deal”, they fill in. 

“oh”, you reply. after your friend tells you. you later look up the competition and find out that it was indeed a really big deal. you’re walking to the cafe to get your daily caffeine fix when you spot a florist shop opposite the road. why not give vernon a bouquet to congratulate him? but then the second thoughts come; he wouldn’t think you were weird if you gave him flowers right? but then again, you saw the other faculty gave him a plant too, so you guessed there was no harm done if you gave him some flowers. so that’s how you’re walking back to your office with a small bouquet of flowers in your hand. 

(expect no one told you that that he was allergic to flowers and you were blissfully unaware of what chaos you were about to cause)

just as you were about to enter the lobby, you notice vernon walking towards the building from the opposite direction and for some reason, your heart skips a beat. his hair is a little messy today, but falls cutely over his forehead.

“vernon!”, you call out and he looks up, surprised to see you as he eyes the flowers in your hands.

“hey”, he asks and you smile before you notice the way he was keeping a small distance between you both. 

“congratulations on winning the hackathon! i thought you might like these, something for your win”, you say as you extend your hand out, holding out a small bouquet of flowers to him.

vernon eyes the bouquet, his expression shifting from surprised to slightly worried as he tries to maintain his composure as he reaches out to take the bouquet from you.

“oh, um, thanks. they’re really... nice”, he says to you and you beam, happy that he likes them.

but before vernon could say anything further, a sneeze erupts from him—loud and dramatic. he quickly tries to stifle it, but he sneezes again, and again and again.

“oh my gosh, are you okay?”, you ask, worried about the way he was sneezing all of a sudden.

vernon tries to wave off your concern, but the flowers were making it worse. his attempts to hide his discomfort were futile as he let out another series of sneezes.

“i-i’m fine! just a bit of… pollen...” he says before he sneezes again and your eyes widen in realization.

“oh my god, you’re allergic to flowers??’, you ask, reaching for the bouquet and nearly plucking it out of his hand, placing it on the bench that was nearby, hoping that the distance would make him feel better before you turn to face him again.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t know you were allergic to flowers”, you say, mortified, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.  

vernon manages to find some tissues in his pocket and dabs his nose, managing to give you a weak smile.

“it’s alright”, he says, waving his hand in the air. 

“what do you mean it’s alright?” you repeat, your voice rising in panic. “no, i almost killed you! oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you tell, horrified. 

“it’s the thought that counts really. just maybe... no more flowers?”, he says through sniffles and you nod your head vigorously. 

“of course, i’ll get you something else”, you add in a rush and vernon sneezes once more. you offer to grab him a coffee or something to help him recover from the unexpected pollen assault.

“how about i get you some coffee? i feel terrible about this”, you ask, biting the bottom of your lip in nervousness as you look at vernon with a hopeful look in your eyes. vernon, now recovering, manages to chuckle between sneezes. 

“coffee sounds good”, he says, sniffling, his sneezes seeming to have gotten under control. 

“again, i’m so sorry”, you tell, feeling bad about the incident earlier. it felt like the universe had a personal vendetta against you whenever you interacted with vernon.

“no worries, i’m all good now”, he says, giving you a small reassuring smile that seems to ease your heart. you get vernon his coffee and walk back to the university, both of you walking in silence now. 

“again i’m so so sorry”, you repeat, still feeling bad about earlier, your voice filled with genuine regret.  

“it’s really not a big deal,” he reassures you again. “i’m just glad it wasn’t worse. some people are really sensitive to that stuff”, he says. the silence between you now feels more comfortable, a mutual understanding hanging in the air. you appreciate his easy going nature and feel a bit of the tension melting away.

unbeknownst to you, vernon had taken the bouquet of flowers back to his office, carefully placing it in the corner of his room. even though he was still sneezing occasionally, he couldn’t bring himself to toss the flowers away. each time vernon glanced at the bouquet, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, being reminded of you. 

a week later, as you’re wrapping up your day and heading out of the university. through the glass window of his door, you catch a glimpse of him sitting at his desk, rubbing his temple with a look of evident stress. concern nudges at you, and you decide to stop and check in on him.

you peek your head into the room. “hey, not heading out yet?” you ask, your voice gentle but curious. vernon looks up from his laptop, his eyes finding yours as he lets out a small sigh.

“no, i’m still here,” he replies, frustration evident in his tone. “i’m trying to figure out why this website keeps crashing.”

you step inside, curiosity piqued. “website?” you prompt, your mind quickly connecting the dots. you remembered that vernon does freelance work on the side, a detail you found impressive and one that explained why he carried his laptop practically everywhere. 

“yeah,” he continued, frustration clear in his voice. “it’s this website that crashes whenever too many users try to access it at once.”

you nod thoughtfully, drawing on your own experience. “you know, maybe you should take a break. sometimes when i get stuck on a piece of writing, stepping away and coming back to it later helps me see things more clearly”, you say.

you watch as vernon nods slowly, as he considers your suggestion, a small smile of appreciation flickering across his face. “yeah, i guess you’re right.”, he replies as he closes his laptop with a resigned click, and begins to pack up his bag. you both walk out of the office together, the weight of the day lifting slightly with each step. 

you could sense that vernon was a bit tense, perhaps still unwinding from a long day or just not fully at ease because of the problem he couldn't solve earlier. the silence between you was starting to feel a bit heavy, and you wanted to lighten the mood. you racked your brain for something to break the ice. but you didn’t know what to say, not wanting to say anything silly again so you kept quiet.

“well, i hope you can solve that issue soon!”, you tell after a few seconds of silence and he nods. “me too”.

the next day, you decide to take a little break before your office hours and head out, deciding to grab a coffee. you’re armed with the copy of two books, one that you were reading for class and another that you were reading on your own. you’re about to turn the corner when you bump into vernon - again.

“woah”, he says, just like the first time, still cool as a cucumber.

“shit, i’m sorry”, you tell, laughing softly. “no worries”, he says, his eyes falling on the two books in your hands. 

“you seem to always be in a rush”, he tells, adjusting his cap on his head. “i guess my mind is always racing and my feet somehow follow that”, you tell, joking and he nods again. it was like that was his default reaction.

“oh, by the way, i managed to fix that issue”, he tells, his face seeming to light up when he spoke to you this time.

“the one where the website kept crashing?”, you prompt and he nods. you start walking in the direction of the cafe and he follows beside you.

“that’s great, what was the issue?”, you ask, completely oblivious of all the technical terms that vernon was about to use.

“it turns out that the issue was with how i was managing the server resources. i had to optimize the code that handles incoming requests and i found this bottleneck where the server was getting overloaded, so i streamlined the process”, he explains and you furrow your brows as you try to make sense of what he was saying but who were you kidding, you had no idea what he was talking about.

“oh, that sounds…challenging”, you tell, hoping it didn’t sound like you were an idiot somehow.

“kind of, but i monitored the server's performance metrics and analyzed the logs and i was able to figure out where the issue was. once i made those tweaks, the website started handling traffic like a pro and didn’t crash anymore”, he tells proudly and you nod along.

“woah, that’s impressive”, you add, giving him a thumbs up as you walk, hoping it didn’t seem obvious that you didn’t really understand what he just told you and the only thing you actually managed to understand was that he solved the issue.

he turns to glance at you and the confusion is clear on your face as you nod along and praise him. he looks down and smiles to himself before looking back up at you, finding this whole situation funny and maybe a little cute because of you.

“you didn’t understand a word i said did you?”, he prompts and you feel the tips of your ears getting red out of embarrassment. “i did..i-i understood that you solved it”, you tell quickly. but you give in after a few seconds. “okay fine, i have no idea what you said but whatever it was, it sounds impressive”, you confess.

“it’s basically like having a rush hour at a store and there’s not enough staff to help around”, he starts off, explaining it to you in more simple terms. “so i had to make a code that handles requests run smoother. i also found a spot where everything was getting stuck, like a traffic jam. once i fixed it, it was like organizing a line so everyone gets their food faster without bumping into each other”, he tells and you nod in understanding this time.

“oh wow, that’s cool, that makes so much sense”, you repeat, impressed.

you reach the cafe and step inside, vernon beside you. you order a latte and ask vernon if he wants anything but he denies. so you just wait for your drink and he waits with you.

“how are you liking being a TA so far?”, he asks as he meets your gaze, adjusting the usual blue cap on his head.

“i think it’s going well, i have a knack for teaching you know”, you say with a small smile, happy. “i’m enjoying it, though sometimes it does test my patience a little”, you add and he chuckles as he nods along in understanding.

you grab your coffee when it’s ready and you both walk back to class, parting ways in the hallway as you head to your lecture and vernon to his.

it’s after office hours and the hallways were quieter. you’re making your way towards the library, the weight of your laptop bag and a stack of books pulling on your shoulders as you walk. your notebook and pens were carefully balanced in one hand. you spot vernon walking down and you give him a small wave when you reach closer. he stops, giving you a small nod of acknowledgement as he takes in the books and laptop you’re carrying, or lugging around again. 

“going somewhere?” he asks, his tone casual but with an underlying hint of curiosity.

“yeah,” you reply, adjusting the stack of books so they don't topple over. “i’m heading to the library to finish up some work.” vernon’s eyes follow you as you speak. “cool,” is all he says, his usual nonchalant reply that seemed to be his standard for everything.

you continue on your way to the familiar space of the library, navigating through the shelves and pathways to find your favorite spot - it was hidden in the back, right next to the window and was the perfect cozy spot to study, read or just hide in fact. you set down your laptop and open up your notebook to plan your next lecture and assignment. you open your laptop and are ten minutes into your work session when you hear the soft patter of footsteps approaching. you glance behind, eyes widening when you see who was stepping into your little hideaway.

you don’t expect to see vernon there. it was a rare and almost jarring sight; vernon and the library didn’t seem to mix well. his usual hangout was more likely the the local coffee shop or staying holed up in his own office, definitely not the library. you hesitate, caught off guard by this unexpected encounter. vernon looks at you and there’s a hint of something in his eyes.

“hey”, you say softly, trying to keep your tone casual despite the curiosity lingering inside you. “didn’t expect to see you here”. 

vernon shrugs, his relaxed demeanor unshaken. “yeah, i guess i needed a change of scenery.” he shifts on his feet, his eyes glancing over the empty space next to you. you reach out and bring your books to your side of the table.

“you can join me if you want”, you add and vernon nods, taking a seat next to you. “thanks”, he says, placing his laptop down before opening it and getting to work. it was strange, trying to focus on your work while sharing the space with someone who seemed so out of place here. the silence between you both was punctuated only by the rustling of pages by you and the soft but steady clacking of vernon typing away on his laptop.

you lift your head up and peek into what he was doing too curious for your own good,  only to see him effortlessly writing some code. in your eyes, it was like he was almost writing gibberish, making no sense to you whatsoever. to you, it looked like a jumble of incomprehensible characters, a stark contrast to the structured organization of your notes. but there was something so fascinating about the way he worked, and you find yourself staring into his screen for a little longer than you’d have liked before you realize, averting your eyes back to your own laptop.

after a while, you start to get sleepy. all the late night you pulled were starting to catch up to you and you felt your eyes drooping slowly, unable to concentrate or write anymore. you rest your chin on your hand as you slowly start to doze off. 

vernon, who was engrossed in his coding, notices your struggle to stay awake when. he tries to stay focused on his work, but every so often, his eyes dart back over to you, noting how you seemed to be fighting a losing battle against sleep. he wasn’t quite sure what to do so he just lets you be. in the end you seem to lose and you end up dozing off. your pen falls out of your hand, rolling onto the floor. 

quietly, he slips out of his chair and retrieves his jacket, picking up your pen too, placing it on the table. he gently drapes his jacket over your shoulders as you sleep, hoping it would make you more comfortable. the jacket was a bit oversized, but he hoped it would do the trick. however, in his attempt to make you more comfortable, vernon found himself in a tough spot. you shift and find a new resting place - right on vernon’s shoulder. he’s caught off guard, his eyes widening in surprise as you snuggle right into his shoulder and he freezes, unsure how to react. he tries to remain still, not wanting to wake you or disrupt the surprisingly cozy situation. he makes the quiet decision to wait it out, not sure whether he should wake you up or not. he focuses back on his laptop screen, though his attention keeps drifting back to you. with the weight of your head resting on his shoulder, vernon couldn't seem to focus at all. 

finally, after what felt like an eternity of indecision and awkwardness, you stir awake. your eyes flutter open, initially disoriented by the dim light and the unfamiliar feeling of having drifted off to sleep in the middle of your work. lifting your head from vernon’s shoulder, you blinked in surprise at the sight of him. 

“oh, i didn’t mean to fall asleep”, you mumble as you come back to your senses. it’s only after a few seconds later that you put two and two together.

“oh…OH…i’m so sorry”, ” you exclaim, rubbing your eyes and trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “i didn’t mean to—” 

vernon doesn’t say anything, though his face is still a bit flushed. “it’s alright. you looked like you needed sleep. i just wasn’t expecting you to use me as a pillow.”, he says matter of factly. 

you try to laugh it off, but your face is burning with embarrassment. “i hope i didn’t sleep for long”, you ask, unaware of how much time had passed. 15 minutes? 20 minutes?

“you slept for almost two hours”, vernon fills in and your hand flies up to cover you mouth in shock. no way. you had not just slept on vernon’s shoulder for almost two hours? what was wrong with you?

“yeah, i wasn’t sure if i should wake you or let you sleep. it seemed like you really needed it.”, he says like it was no big deal and you feel a wave of mortification wash over you.

“i’m so sorry for making you sit here like that. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”  you tell, and that’s when you notice vernon’s jacket draped around you. you slide it off your shoulders and hand it back to vernon, but there’s still the lingering warmth it’s left behind on your shoulders. the fabric still holds the faint scent of him, a mix of cedar and something faintly sweet. 

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, the blush from earlier now a persistent warmth in your cheeks. “i didn’t mean to make you wait so long,” you stammer, trying to regain some composure. “i must have really zonked out”, you tell, feeling bad about having our vernon in an awkward position. “it’s alright,” he says. “sometimes you just need a good nap”. 

the next morning is bright and clear, but you can’t shake the feeling of awkwardness from the previous day. the campus buzzes with its usual mix of students rushing between classes and professors hurrying to meetings. you on the other hand are  mentally preparing for a day full of avoiding vernon—mostly because you’re still embarrassed about falling asleep on him. 

but your plan goes down the drain the moment you see vernon. you’re about to turn around but his gaze finds you before you can, and turning around now would make it seem like you were actually running away. instead, you slow down and he makes his way towards you. he’s dressed in his usual laid-back attire—jeans and a university hoodie. 

“morning”, he says once he’s close enough and you give him a friendly smile. “morning,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. vernon, unfazed by your clear attempt to escape a conversation, continues talking.

“did you sleep well?”, he asks and you swear there was almost a hint of humor in the way he asked it. 

“oh, uh, yeah, great,” you stammer, trying to sound calm and collected. “i slept really well”, you say, giving him a thumbs up before mentally cringing, forcing your hands down. vernon chuckles, the sweet sound of his laughter filling the air between you both. he smiles at you and you swear your heart almost skips a beat, two maybe, before he speaks again.

“i’m just teasing you”, he adds, the corners of his mouth still lifted up into a smile and you feel your cheeks heat up as you blink at him. “see you around”, he adds, before walking ahead, leaving you behind, your heart a fluttering mess.

the next week you, when you’re walking down the hallway, you spot vernon. but you didn’t expect him to look so good. he was wearing a light baby blue hoodie, his dark hair was tousled in that effortlessly cute way. but the thing that made you do a double take was the pair of glasses he was wearing. they sat perched on his nose, framing his eyes in a way that was somehow both endearing and charming, making him look adorable. for a moment, you can’t tear your gaze away. your heart skips a beat and it’s like your brain short circuited and stopped working for a second because the next thing you know, you’re walking right into the wall instead of turning the corridor. the sudden impact jolts you back to reality, and you blink, staring at the blank wall in surprise. 

you turn around to see vernon’s amused, but also concerned, his glasses perched at just the right angle to make his eyes twinkle. he waves at you, closing the gap between you both. shit, vernon didn’t see you walk into the wall right? he totally did.

“are you okay?” he asked, clearly trying to stifle a laugh.

you could feel your cheeks flush as you rub the spot where you’d collided with the wall. “yeah, i’m fine,” you manage to reply, trying to regain some semblance of composure. 

“just a little distracted, no big deal.”, you tell, trying to play it off. a smile still tugs at the corners of vernon’s lips. “i-i should go”, you tell, turning around and walking away, mentally preparing to dig your own grave and bury yourself because why did you have to be such an idiot in front of vernon.

“well, watch where you’re going”, he calls out as he watches you walk away. 

after office hours you decide to retreat to the familiar space of the library again. somehow being surrounded by books always seemed to ease your mind. on your way to library, you bump into vernon, his laptop tucked under his arm like always. he, in fact, had been looking for you. he’d dropped by your office but when he didn’t find you there, he thought you had gone home. but he decided to scan the library once since knew you spent a lot of time here as well. his eyes light up when he spots you here in your usual spot.

“hi”, vernon’s voice floats in, making you look up to see him. “h-hey”, you say, caught off guard by his presence again, the events of last evening flashing through your mind. “mind if i join you again?”, he asks and you shake your head, indicating he could sit. you both settle down at the back corner of the library, occupying a small table. you open up the book, the one you were re-reading for the nth time. you bring out your sticky notes and pens, ready to make notes and mark important points or quotes from the book since this was a book that was assigned for class reading. 

vernon opens up his laptop and starts working on trying to debug the code for a program he was building. you both work in silence, vernon typing away on his laptop while you read the book, making notes. after almost 30 minutes, vernon stretches and looks over at you, admiring the way you were engrossed in the book you were reading. he could see the expressions you made as you read - a soft smile when something funny was happening or the way your brows furrowed when something intense was happening. he thought it was cute. 

you seem to notice his gaze on you and look up. you glance at the time and decide to take a break too, closing your book. 

“what are you up to?”, you ask, recalling what you saw on his screen yesterday. “you were like writing a million lines of code the other day”, you tell and he nods. “yeah, i’m debugging this program”, he explains.

“how’s it going?”, you ask, leaning forward. “i think i’ve almost solved it”, he says, satisfied.

"don't you ever get tired of reading the same book over and over?" he asks after a few seconds of silence, genuine curiosity lighting up his face. you pause for a moment, considering his question. it wasn't the first time someone had asked you this.

"never" you say, a smile spreading across your face. "in fact, it's quite the opposite.whenever i re-read a book, it's like going on a treasure hunt and every time i re-read the pages, i uncover something new, stumble upon details i missed before, and uncover deeper meanings.", you start to explain.

vernon leaned back in his chair, his curiosity piqued, and you continued to speak.

you grab the well worn copy of the book you were reading and hold it out to show vernon. "take this book for example. each time i read it, i connect with the characters in a different way”, you add on.

he nods, his eyes reflecting understanding. "so, it's like the book grows with you," he says, intrigued by your perspective.

"exactly!" you reply, nodding eagerly.

“and i’ve been thinking about how programming and literature seem like polar opposites  at first glance, but actually have some similarities”, you tell, suddenly overcome with passion and vernon watches the way your eyes light up as you explain your theory to him. 

“you just think about it—both fields involve decoding and interpreting systems, just in different forms. for you,it’s deciphering algorithms and building code and for me it's analyzing and breaking down a characters' motivations and feelings”, you tell.

vernon nods as you talk, taking it all in. “that's an interesting way to put it, i never thought of it that way”, vernon says as your words sink in. “and the best part? there’s creativity in both”, you add like the cherry on top. as you continue, the flow of conversation feels so natural that you don’t immediately realize you’re starting to ramble. 

“it's fascinating how different disciplines can share common ground. we may approach problems from opposite ends of the spectrum, but our goals are surprisingly similar”, he says and you smile with the way he gets you. 

“exactly! so maybe we both aren’t so different after all”, you add, laughing softly. the enthusiasm in your voice only grows, until suddenly, you catch yourself in mid-sentence, your words faltering and growing softer until you stop speaking and you feel a flush creeping up your cheeks. “sorry, i didn’t mean to bore you with all this”.

vernon’s expression shifts from one of engaged interest to gentle reassurance, shaking his head. “bore me? not at all. i actually find it really interesting.”

you let out a relieved sigh, feeling a bit more at ease. “really? i just felt like i was going on and on. sometimes i get a bit—well, you know, enthusiastic about these things.” 

you glance at the time on your phone before looking back up at vernon. “wanna take a break and grab some coffee?”, you ask and he nods. “sure”

there was just something about vernon that made you look around for him in the hallways as you stole glances at him. maybe it was the way he was so cool, calm and collected unlike you - a mess.

 

a few months pass and you and vernon slowly get closer, talking more, hanging out more and it was like you were slowly bringing vernon out of his shell. you got to know a completely different side to him and he was fun, sweet and really cute as well.  

“have you noticed how vernon is acting so differently these days?”, one of his students say. “yeah, you know the other day i saw him in the library!”, the other one explains.

“what? that’s insane”, the other student fills in. “there’s something definitely up. i remember him telling me that the wifi in the library was shitty so he didn’t like to work there”, the other student adds on. 

“oh my god”, the second student tells as realization dawns. “what?”, the other two ask.

“i think vernon has a crush on the english TA”, they say. “wait, that’s so cute. that would make sense. i’ve seen them hanging out a lot and he’s been acting different too. he’s not holed up at his desk like before and i swear he smiles more when he’s talking with the english TA”, the first student adds.

vernon never expected to be so intrigued by someone like you. he was a computer science major, someone who thrived on structure and logic. but then there was you, an english literature major, always in some world or another, lugging around books everyday like it was nothing. despite their differences, he couldn't help but feel drawn to you. you seemed to have entered his life, bringing a whirlwind of chaos and charm.

you’re helping a student, because shakespeare was proving to be difficult for some students.  “if you need more help on how to structure the essay, let me know, i can give you some guidelines”, you explain to the student in front of you. 

“miss yn, i think vernon has a crush on you”, your students says, making you snap your head up because how did vernon suddenly come up?

“what? don’t be ridiculous”, you tell but your student just gives you a look.

“i’m serious! you know he never used to wander around the halls much, but ever since you joined, he has. he hangs out with you alot”, your student adds.

“that’s because we’re good friends”, you correct, giving them a look, but it was like they knew better.

“and he’s totally crushing on you, my friend does computer science and she can read all the signs”, your student explains further. 

“what signs?”, you ask, confused. “that he’s crushing on you. he’s hanging out with you, he smiles more often, he’s not wearing hoodies all the time and he’s hanging out in the library with you? he is totally crushing on you miss yn”, your student explains and suddenly you find yourself at a loss for words.

“maybe if you put this much effort in your essay you’d score higher marks”, you tell with a straight face, bringing the attention back to the topic at hand. you student only seems to sigh in defeat. 

“you both would make a really cute couple you know”, you student tells with a small chuckle as they walk out, leaving you shy but also wondering…did vernon really have a crush on you?

the idea of something like that seemed impossible. you both were so similar yet so different so the idea that he might like you, the possibility that he might have a crush on you stirred something in your heart. it would be a lie to deny that you didn’t like him or have developed a small crush on him too. but the thought that he might feel the same way? that’s something you hadn’t seriously considered until now.

tonight you find yourself staying late again to grade the papers that were given last week. vernon stood hesitantly outside the office door, his hand hovering over the handle as he took a deep breath to steady himself. he wasn't used to feeling nervous—usually, he was the calm and cool guy who approached situations with a quiet confidence. but tonight was different - he was nervous. summoning his courage, vernon knocked softly on your door, his heart beating a little faster than usual.

you looked up, surprised yet pleasantly so, as vernon entered. your smile widened at the sight of him, a welcomed interruption from the monotony of grading.

“i heard you were working late and bought some snacks”, he says, holding up a bag of food and you smile at the thoughtful gesture. 

“you’re a lifesaver, i was actually so hungry”, you tell as vernon opens the bag and hangs you a pack of chips, which surprisingly in your favorite flavor. you take it, telling him a small thank you as vernon takes a seat in front. his eyes wander to the papers on your desk.

“tough class?”, he asks. “yeah but it’s rewarding in a way”, you tell as you bite on a chip and chew.

“do you have lots of paper’s left to grade?”, he asks, looking at the stack, feeling unsure because his plans might fall through otherwise.

“oh, just two more actually, those are all done”, you tell, following his gaze and he looks relieved.

“i’ll wait for you, we can head out together”, he says and you smile softly, nodding your head before you get back to grading your papers. vernon watches at you grade the papers in concentrations, your brows furrowed slightly as you read through the essays your students had written, your pen marking places that were good, or need improvement. 

once you finish, you pack up your things and you're walking with vernon outside as he offers to walk you to the bus stop. you’re mind wanders to vernon and what you students were telling you earlier. was it that obvious you had a crush on vernon? you briefly glance at him before looking down at your feet, feeling your nerves rise up. you reach the bus stop and you both are standing there. vernon looks at you, noticing your distant expression, like something was weighing on your mind. 

“everything alright?” he asks, slightly concerned. 

you snap back to the present, giving him a slightly awkward but genuine smile. “oh, yeah, everything’s fine. just... thinking about stuff.”, you say as you dig your hands in the pocket of your coat.

vernon raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press further. “well, if you need to talk about anything or if you just want to grab a coffee and chat, let me know.”

you nod, a smile playing on your lips. “sure, that sounds nice. i’ll definitely take you up on that offer”, you reply as you see your bus come. as you sit in the bus, you can’t help but replay vernon’s words in your head. did he mean that as a friend or something more? 

as you spend more time with vernon, both of you spending more time hanging out in the library, you start to notice the subtle changes in your feelings, how your heart flutters a little more each time vernon flashes that easygoing smile of his or how you look forward to those quiet moments spent with him in the library. the more you get to know him, the more you appreciate the effortless way he balances his laid-back demeanor with a genuine interest in your thoughts and feelings.  

as vernon spends more time with you in the library, he can’t help but notice how his feelings have evolved from casual admiration to something more. he’s used to being reserved and laid-back, but you’ve managed to stir something in him that he didn’t quite expect. your energy is infectious, and despite his usually reserved nature, he finds himself drawn to you more and more. 

seungkwan leaned forward in his chair at the café, taking a hearty bite of his sandwich. his eyes flicked up at vernon, who was sitting across from him with just an iced americano. 

“so, how’s the TA thing going?” seungkwan asks, his mouth still half-full. he was genuinely curious about how things were unfolding for his friend. he’d considered becoming a TA too, but he didn’t think he had the patient to teach.

“it’s going good,” vernon replies, taking a sip of his drink and meeting seungkwan’s gaze. he tries to sound nonchalant, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, a lightness that seungkwan couldn’t quite place.

“who was the person with you earlier? the one you were chatting with?”, seungkwan prods.

“oh,” vernon said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “they’re another TA at the university.”

seungkwan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued at the information. “you guys see each other a lot then?”

vernon’s smile grows a little wider, though he tries to keep his tone casual. “yeah, we hang out pretty often. they’re fun to be around.”

seungkwan doesn’t miss the way vernon’s eyes soften when he mentions you. his curiosity is piqued and he leans in slightly, his grin widening as he sets down his sandwich, wiping his hand with a tissue. “fun, huh? you don’t usually talk about people like that”, seungkwan says as he looks at vernon with that look in his eyes, like he knew something more.

vernon hesitated, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. “well, they’re just… different. you know? they make everything feel a bit more… lively. it’s a nice change from my usual routine.”

seungkwan’s grins wider and he gives vernon a look. “sounds like someone’s got a bit of a crush. i’ve never seen you talk about anyone like this before.”

vernon’s eyes widen at seungkwan’s statement, caught off guard by his words. he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “it’s not like that. i just… enjoy their company”, vernon defends, but really, it’s no use against seungkwan.

seungkwan chuckles. “sure, sure. i’m just saying. i’ve seen you deal with enough spreadsheets and code to know when someone’s making a difference. you seem happier these days.”

there’s a hint of a smile still lingering on vernon’s face. “i guess you could say that.”

the conversation shifted to other topics, but vernon’s thoughts lingered on you. seungkwan’s observations were spot on, despite his attempts to keep things casual, he had to admit that you had brought a spark of excitement and unpredictability into his life. and as he looked at seungkwan, he realized that maybe, just maybe, there was something more to these encounters than he had originally thought.

it’s the final week of classes before summer break rolls in. the campus is abuzz with students rushing to finish assignments and prepare for exams. you’ve been swamped with work, grading papers and wrapping up last-minute things. by the time you finally pack up and leave the office, the sun has dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the campus.

the campus, usually lively with students and faculty, has quieted down. you walk briskly towards the exit, your thoughts occupied with a mix of relief and anticipation for the summer break. you could really use a break. as you step outside, you spot a familiar figure standing by the edge of the path, bathed in the soft light of a nearby lamp post - vernon.

he stands there with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his posture relaxed as he stands there. as soon as his eyes meet yours, his face breaks into a warm, welcoming smile.

“hey,” he calls out, his voice carrying easily across the still evening air.

“hey,” you reply, walking towards him. “what are you doing here?”

“i was just… waiting for you,” he says, a touch of uncertainty creeping into his voice. “i thought i’d see if you wanted to grab a coffee or something before you head back home. i know things have been pretty hectic with the end of the semester and all.”

you nod, giving him a smile at his thoughtfulness. it’s moments like these that make your heart skip a beat, and you realize that the time for the conversation you’ve been dreading is now. you’ve been meaning to ask vernon out for weeks, but each time you gathered the courage, you found yourself faltering, your intentions falling short of actual words.

but the idea of not seeing him over the summer, of leaving things as they are, feels unbearable. you don’t have it in you to wait that long. the thought of waiting until after the break, when you’ll have more time to analyze, second-guess, and overthink would drive you crazy instead. so you’ve decided that tonight is the night. as you both walk together towards the coffee shop, the casual conversation flows easily, but you can’t shake the knot of nervous anticipation in your stomach. vernon orders the coffee, his calm energy making you feel a bit more at ease.

as you wait for your drinks, the silence between you seems charged with unspoken words. vernon looks over at you, a curious expression on his face. “something on your mind?”, he prompts and you shake your head in a hurry, feeling nervous all of a sudden. it’s only after you finish your coffee and you’re walking back that you finally pluck up the courage to ask him.

“hey vernon”, you start, your voice bright but slightly hesitant. he looks up at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity, clearly waiting for you to continue. you fidget with your hands, then look up at him, trying to meet his gaze directly.

“i was wondering if you were free sometime next week? we could grab dinner or something?”, you ask, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as the words tumble out of your mouth. you can see the surprise and curiosity in vernon’s eyes as he processes what you’ve just said.

“me?”, he asks as he points to himself. you let out a soft laugh, trying to ease the awkwardness. “yes, you, silly. who else?” you say, letting out a nervous smile. you felt your cheeks warm up as you waited for him to answer. 

oh…wait was yn asking me out?

“oh um…”, vernon’s eyes widened, and he suddenly seemed very interested in the cement footpath, his gaze darting around, flickering everywhere but you as he shifts from foot to foot, looking anywhere but directly at you, trying to process what you just asked.

“i’m not sure, i might be busy”, he finally says, but he doesn’t miss the way your smile seems to fall off your face. you try to keep your tone upbeat despite the slight disappointment. “oh, okay. no worries,” you say, trying to sound casual. had you just been rejected? 

you go home, feeling embarrassed because what if vernon would avoid you now? you’d hate that and maybe you were starting to think you shouldn't have asked him out on that dinner offer. had you just blown things between you both? maybe you’d misunderstood his feelings after all. 

vernon sat opposite seungkwan, but his attention was somewhere else. seungkwan, his friend, was chatting animatedly about something that vernon was barely registering.

“vernon? are you even listening to me?” seungkwan’s voice floats in, shaking vernon from his thoughts.

“huh? yeah, i’m listening,” vernon replies, as he tries to focus his attention back on seungkwan.

seungkwan narrows his eyes. “what was i talking about?” he challenges, clearly not buying vernon’s half-hearted attention.

vernon’s mouth opened and closed as he scrambles to recall the conversation, but nothing came to mind. “uh… i, um…” he stammers, looking sheepish.

“you okay? you seem really lost,” seungkwan probed.

vernon sighs and looks down, a bit embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck in nervousness. “you know that TA i told you about? they asked me if i was free next week to have dinner”, vernon slowly explains.

seungkwan’s eyes widen in surprise. “so, what did you say?” seungkwan asks in anticipation.

vernon only shrugs, “i wasn’t sure, so i told them i might be busy”

seungkwan’s jaw drops in disbelief upon hearing his friend’s words.  “WHAT?” he almost yells, startling vernon. “dude, they were totally asking you out!”, seungkwan says and he was practically vibrating with excitement.

vernon’s mouth formed a small ‘O’ as realization hit him. “oh,” he said quietly, as it  dawned on him.

seungkwan’s frustration seemed to escalate. “are you kidding me? they asked you out on a date, and you what? you said that were busy? oh my god”, seungkwan exclaims dramatically at his friend's cluelessness.

“i didn’t know they meant it like that,” vernon defends, his face flushing with embarrassment.

“you’re an idiot, that’s what you are, an idiot”,” seungkwan mutters, shaking his head in disappointment and disbelief. “you better go on that date man, seriously.”, seungkwan threatens as he points at vernon with a mix of exasperation and encouragement.

“yeah, i’ll think about it, i guess” vernon mumbles, his mind already racing. “there’s no thinking, you’re going and it’s final”, seungkwan says like he had the final say in the matter, looking vernon up and down, baffled at his friend’s idiocy. 

that night, as vernon lay in bed, he couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that he had missed a golden opportunity. every time he replayed the conversation in his head, he felt like a complete fool. the more he thought about it, the more he realized just how much he wanted to go on that date with you.

“i’m such an idiot,” he mutters to himself, tossing and turning as images of you flashed through his mind. the more he thought about you, the clearer it became: he definitely wanted to go on that dinner date with you.

by morning, vernon is determined and he would figure out a way to make it up to you. but as classes go on, vernon can’t seem to focus on anything. he couldn't stop thinking about you.

the hours dragged by, each minute stretching longer than the last as vernon tried to get through his lectures and office hours. every time he glanced at the clock, he felt a pang of urgency. finally, when the last class was over, he packed up his things with an unusual sense of determination.

as he made his way across campus, his mind raced. he had no idea what he was going to say, but he knew he couldn’t let the opportunity slip away. he spots you just outside the university building, chatting with a couple of friends. his heart pounds as he approaches you, the sound of his footsteps seeming louder than usual.

“hey, vernon!” you greet, your voice warm with familiarity. your friends took the cue and started to drift away, saying they had to head to the other department, leaving you both alone.

“hey, um…” vernon began, his voice shaky but filled with resolve. “can i talk to you for a second?” he asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

you’re still bummed about last night’s rejection, unsure of what vernon might say. “sure, what’s up?”

vernon took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “about last night…” he starts, fumbling with his words, glancing around as if seeking reassurance from the familiar surroundings. “i was thinking about what you asked me, and, um-”, he starts but you cut him off, a hint of nervousness creeping into your voice.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to,” you blurt out quickly, trying to mask your own anxiety. you were suddenly aware of the awkward tension between you both and wanted to avoid making things worse. “i mean, you don’t have to feel pressured or anything. we’re going to be seeing each other a lot, so”, you say, the nerves getting to you.

vernon blinks at you, looking even more confused. “wait, what?”, he asks, his brows knitted together as he tries to make sense of your words.

you sigh, feeling your cheeks grow even hotter as you scramble to find the right words. “i know i asked you out, and i totally understand if you’re not interested or if you feel weird about it. i just don’t want you to feel like you have to say yes because—” you trail off, suddenly feeling defeated.

vernon’s confusion only deepens. “actually, i came to say yes”, vernon finally says and you lift your head up to look at him. “yes to the dinner date”, he adds and your eyes widen in surprise.

“wait, really?”, you ask as you continue to look at him.

“yeah, really,” vernon affirms, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“oh”, is all you can say, the word coming out in a surprised whisper before you let out a nervous laugh.

vernon chuckles along, rubbing the back of his neck as if to chase away his own nerves. 

“yeah, i was kind of an idiot about it, but i’m glad we’re on the same page now.” he adds bashfully.

you try to hide the smile on your face, but you can’t help it and a small smile grows on your face at his confession. the awkward atmosphere between you both is replaced with relief.

“so, it’s a date then?” vernon asks, his tone playful as he raises an eyebrow.

you nod, feeling a little shy but also excited. “yes, it’s definitely a date”, you reply, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you and vernon’s grin widens as he nods his head along to your words, meeting your gaze and smiling even wider. 

it had been almost two months since you and vernon began dating, and things had turned out to be quite charming. the students seemed to love the idea of you two being together, some even going so far as to place bets on whether or not you’d end up as a couple or not. the playful speculation had become a running joke, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how obvious you both must have been about your feelings.

“see, i told you vernon had a crush on you,” one of your students chimes in during office hours. you roll your eyes, trying to maintain a professional demeanor.

“please finish your essay on time, no more deadline extensions,” you say, trying to steer the conversation back to academic matters.

“but you guys are really cute together,” your student adds, and you couldn’t help but smile softly.

“alright, aren’t you going to be late for class?” you ask, glancing at the time. as the student hurried out, you spent the rest of the day preparing notes for the next lecture, enjoying the quiet solitude of your office.

later, as you nestled into your favorite corner of the library—a spot you’d claimed as your own hiding place—vernon appears at the entrance. his eyes scan the room before landing on you with a grin.

“i thought i might find you here,” vernon says proudly, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and affection.

“my hiding spot has been busted,” you declare dramatically, making a show of pretending to be disappointed.

vernon chuckles at your antics. “i think if you were given permission, you’d practically live here.”

“maybe,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “the idea doesn’t sound all that bad. don’t tempt me.”, you prompt and vernon only laughs more.

“well, it’s a good thing i’m here to keep you company. how’s the work coming along?”

you pat the empty space beside you. “better now that you’re here”.

vernon settles next to you. “just promise you won’t fall asleep again”, vernon asks and you look at him, feigning offense. 

“it’s called taking a power nap”, you defend and he laughs. 

“yeah, just don’t use me as a pillow because last time you drooled on my shirt”, he says, making you give him a look.

“i did not!”, you retort. “you totally did, i took a picture as proof”, he says. 

“yeah right, you’re lying”, you say, rolling your eyes.

“wanna bet?” vernon asks as he pulls out his phone, flipping through his photos with an air of mischief. “here it is.” he shows you a blurry, yet unmistakable photo of you snoozing peacefully, a small droplet evident on his shirt.

you feel your cheeks heat up and you swat his phone playfully “you’re the worst. i was just trying to get a bit of rest”, you tell. 

“fine, i’ll make it up to you,” you say after a few seconds, your eyes sparkling with an idea as you looked at him.

vernon raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you. “how?”

without missing a beat, you lean in and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. for a moment, vernon’s entire body went still. his eyes widened in surprise, and he gulped down his nerves, trying to process what had just happened.

“what was that?” he finally managed to stammer.

you pulled back slightly, your heart racing as you tried to maintain a casual demeanor. vernon’s cheeks turn into a soft shade of pink, and he blinks, clearly caught off guard. 

“oh, um, thanks,” he says, his voice coming out in a hesitant mumble, trying to steady his racing heart. “i wasn’t expecting that.” 

you bury your face in your hands, trying to hide the growing blush, though you couldn’t suppress the playful grin tugging at your lips. from behind your fingers, you peek through the gaps to look at vernon, who now had an almost straight, serious expression, though his eyes held a soft gaze as he looked at you. 

“do you want another kiss?”, you ask and he looks at you, surprised, his resolve faltering. 

“if you want to”, he says before he glances around the library, peeking over the shelves to make sure no one was watching. “i just don’t want people thinking we’re up to scandalous things in the library,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“we are not doing anything scandalous over here,” you say, giving his arm a playful smack. “you’ve clearly never read any romance novels, have you?”, you ask as you look at him. “this is like the least scandalous thing we could be doing in the library right now, i’ve read worse, trust me”, you say, while vernon just looks at you with a fond gaze. 

“alright, if you say so”, he says. he leans in slightly, his eyes searching yours as he looks at you.

you smile softly, getting nervous. the moment felt suspended in time, and his hand found its way to your cheek, his touch both tender and reassuring. he hesitated just for a heartbeat, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, before finally leaning in. the kiss was soft and tentative at first. his lips were warm against yours, and you could feel the faintest hint of a smile as he deepened the kiss just slightly, moving his lips against yours. you kissed him back, your fingers curling around his arm as you pressed closer. 

when you finally parted, you both linger in the space between, and the quiet of the library seemed to embrace you both. vernon’s eyes meet yours, his expression a mix of adoration and amusement. “see? not scandalous at all,” he whispered with a playful tone.

you laughed softly, the sound mingling with the ambient silence of the library. “definitely not scandalous,” you say, agreeing, your voice equally soft as you hold vernon’s gaze, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

taglist: @paindivinemp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @blue-jisungs @icyminghao

@wheeboo @wootify @joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @n4mj00nvq

@itsveronicaxxx @ihrtboo @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii @aaniag

[lilasnow22xoxo]

nothing feels worse than watching yourself gain back the weight you lost

[camandemstudios]

camandemstudios Seventeen TA collab taglist

@woozidanisms @haneulparadx @aaniag @intoanothermind @abibliolife

@awritersescape @thepoopdokyeomtouched @jnginlov @chanichanvhan@baalkoo

@odevote118 @jenowithjaem @Scoupsjin @dreamsbloomout @hopelessromanticbella

@tacosandbitch @mankidoll @wonhannie @vlbi @cookiearmy

@lllucere @soonsgrl @leemoonna @futuristicenemychaos @bobathi

@lukeys-giggle @z0mh0lic @shiannprincess101 @dawgyeom @coffeesweetx

@milkyruins @leticiaesteveslp @idk13me @quiescentlyme @monamipencil

@bspoju @ahuiahoe @min-has-trusttissues @atinyinateezverse @cowboydk

@avocifera @allieyaaa @chrollo-s-princess @sourkimchi @gyukissr

@impossiblecollectivekoala @wqnwoos @ourkivee @wondrousies @cheoliehansoliereblogs

@svtrightherekids @weakformingyu @sarabencze @bittersweet-folder @hyeisssante

@wwjagabeee @taesungx @moonjeonhui @black-swan-blog27 @leahhhher

@gyuguys @c-oupsie @tigerhoshii @dxntletmegxyoonie @napipope-ta

@variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lizza2001 @leigh-darling @roidagobertlvr @sheilogreen

@livinlikelarry2934

Your first and only semester as TA throws your previously unassuming college life into disarray, fuelled almost entirely by the brown-eyed and charming student who’s slipping closer to failing with every lecture. And in return for your mathematical assistance, Lee Chan decides he’s going to set you up with the guy you’ve been persistently pining over for a year and a half. It’s a simple equation: you teach him calculus, and he’ll teach you how to flirt. Except, as you’re both quick to discover, mathematical equations don’t translate over to real life as easily as you’d expect.

as part of the svt ta collab hosted by @camandemstudios !

⇢ pairing: lee chan x ta!reader

⇢ genre: fluff, idiots2lovers, minor angst?

⇢ wc: 10.2k (i’m just as surprised as u are)

⇢ a/n: so many people to thank (the whole collab server for all the sprinting!!) but especial thank u to cam (@/highvern) and em (@/gyuswhore) for hosting this collab. they put SO much work into this and i couldn’t be more grateful to be part of it, so thank you both for everything!!! and thank you to alta (@/haologram) for being my first official beta ever and managing to convince me to not trash the whole thing <3

“I NEED YOUR help.”

Those are probably the last four words you expect to come out of Lee Chan’s mouth. Because you’ve graded his assignments and you’ve seen his work and you’re pretty sure he’s doing above average in the calculus class you’re TA’ing this semester. 

So when he manages to corner you after one of the lectures to ask for some extra tutoring, you’re startled, to say the least. “You need my help?”

He nods, once. You cock your head to the side, and your surprise must show on your face, because he fishes a slightly crumpled looking paper out of his bag. You recognise it as the latest quiz, one that, fortunately, landed on the other TA’s marking pile. Scrawled at the very top, in Joshua’s unforgiving red pen, is a glaringly large ‘F - 27%’.

“It was only a pop quiz,” you say encouragingly, hiding your sympathetic wince. “Doesn’t count for anything.”

“I can’t afford to let my grades slip,” he counters quickly, like he’s prepared for this. “Which they are And I really don’t get this module. I just think some extra time could help, but I’m terrible at teaching myself.”

You look at him for a long moment. He can’t be more than a year or two younger than you, this boy with eager brown eyes and a hopeful smile; it’s almost charming, how he leans forward in anticipation of your reply, how worried he is about one small test. And — well. You’ve seen the grade sheets, and his grades are slipping. Not drastically, but this is your job, after all.

“Well,” you say finally, glancing at your watch. “Why don’t you come to the office hours tomorrow, and we’ll go over the quiz? And we can go from there.”

He smiles then, so sudden and bright you almost feel caught in it. “Perfect!” he agrees, as he takes his quiz back, shoving it haphazardly into his bag. “I’ll see you then. Oh, wait — my name’s Chan, by the way.”

You cast him an amused look as you zip up your own bag. “I know that.”

“Oh! Cool! Nice! That’s — yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow!” And as he backs away he stumbles over his own feet, catching himself before he topples over. He sends you a sheepish, flushed smile that makes you smile too. You’re always quick to smile at the students, and you send off the younger boy with a wave. Despite being a math major who loves her subject, you know just how much people despise it. Especially calculus.

“What’s got you thinking so hard?” A light voice interrupts your thoughts, and you jump, before turning to face Hong Joshua with a smile just as sheepish as Lee Chan’s was only moments ago.

“Nothing much,” you say, laughing awkwardly. Trying to look anywhere but at his honey brown eyes, you shuffle papers as you continue. “Just about how much people hate math.”

Joshua smiles that breathtaking smile, and your stomach quite literally does a flip. “Why? People bullying you for being smart again?”

You’d mentioned to him that you got made fun of in high school once for liking math. He refuses to let it go: you roll your eyes at him. “No. It was just a train of thought.”

“People who hate math are just not as cool as us,” he says, picking up his own folder, flashing you another smile.

(Us. Your stomach could be Simone Biles, with the amount of somersaults it’s landing today.)

“But anyway,” he continues, checking the time with a frown, “I gotta go. I’ll see you around, dude.”

Dude. There it is: just as quickly as you inflate, you deflate, watching him leave with a wrinkled brow. The problem with Hong Joshua is that he makes it incredibly easy to fall for him — and all the while, he’ll remain incredibly oblivious. You’re just another one of the sorry suckers who isn’t careful enough to nip it in the bud. But really, can you be blamed, when he looks like that? When he acts like that, all sweet and caring and let-me-hold-open-the-door-for-you?

You snap yourself out of your reverie with a sigh. Back to reality, as your mother always says — and your reality is the pile of algebra waiting for you back home.

“What I don’t understand,” Seungkwan says thoughtfully, pacing Chan’s room with his hands folded behind his back, “is why you’re putting on cologne to go to office hours.”

Chan hears the know-it-all tone under his roommate’s pretension, and he resents it. Running a final hand through his hair, and glancing himself over in the mirror one more time, he turns back to Seungkwan with a frustrated scoff. “Does it matter?”

“A problem shared is a problem halved,” Seungkwan wheedles, “In this case, it’d be a problem thirded. Three’d. You know what I mean - there’s three of us to share your problem. Right, Vernon?”

Vernon just blinks from his seat on Chan’s bed, slow and confused. “I don’t really know what we’re talking about. But sure.”

“Nothing,” Chan answers brutally, snatching up his bag. “We’re talking about nothing. Because I don’t have a problem, and Seungkwan’s just being nosy.”

“Look at him!” Seungkwan gesticulates loudly to Vernon, “look how dressed up he is. For class — for calculus! Nobody dresses up for calculus!”

“Ahhh,” Vernon nods slowly, drawing it out; and then he pauses, furrows his brows and asks mildly, “But isn’t that just because he has a crush on his TA?”

Chan hisses; Seungkwan triumphs. “I knew it!” he declares with glee, “I knew there was something! Who is she? Do you have a picture?”

“Nobody,” Chan grinds out, grabbing his backpack and jamming his feet into his worn-out shoes, casting Vernon a resentful look. “And I do not have a picture. But if I did, I wouldn’t show you. Goodbye.” And with that magnificent gesture, he shuts the door firmly behind him.

He’s not late to office hours. He never is. In fact, he’s three minutes early, but you’re already there, along with one or two other classmates he knows by sight but not by name. You’re leaning over one of their desks, talking rapidly as you gesture to the papers in front of them, lanyard swinging.

Chan doesn’t have a crush on you, contrary to what seems to be popular belief. Well. Not a big one. Like, a teensy tiny one, maybe. He thinks you’re pretty, and you’re smart, and you’re incredibly kind. But does he have a crush on you? No. Are his intentions here solely to get to know you better, in order to have a crush on you? Yes. In fact, that’s exactly what this is. Pursuing the butterflies in his stomach. Just out of interest, he reminds himself, as he pushes open the door and you turn around. Pure, innocent interest.

Within an hour of his entrance, you’ve explained every one of Chan’s mistakes — and there were a lot — in digestible detail. Twice as efficient and twice as digestible as Lee, the old, weak-voiced professor with an evidently wrong glasses prescription. He says as much to you, which has you laughing and shaking your head. (“Don’t,” you scold, even as you smile, “he’s so nice, though.”)

The professor is nice. Chan thinks you’re nicer.

He leaves office hours even brighter than he entered. Those butterflies are multiplying.

And, as it turns out in the very next week, when there’s yet another pop quiz — Chan is under the suspicion that Professor Lee doesn’t plan his lessons and just shoves last year’s quizzes at them instead —  he does actually need your help. His grades are getting worse. There’s always the other TA, Joshua, who Chan actually happens to know, but Chan thinks that his half-crush is worth following up on. At the very least, you could be a good friend.

Is pretending to need calculus tutoring in order to get to know a girl his finest moment? No. Because as much as he tries to justify this with his slipping grades, he knows perfectly well he could be doing excellently (well, averagely) if he put a little more effort in. But is that as appealing as the TA with the best laugh he’s ever heard? And so, somehow, with impressive persuasive skills he probably picked up from Jeonghan by accident, Chan manages to wheedle you into tutoring him, smiling as you hmm’ed and haa’ed and bit your lip nervously. 

“I’ve got a full list already,” you had said slowly, and he’d jumped in before you could go down the route of polite refusal.

“I know, I know, but seriously — I’ll be the best student you’ve ever had! I’m a good learner, I swear. I can study whenever you want.” 

Which is how he landed himself early morning sessions — and when you said early, you weren’t kidding. The times you’ve scheduled for him to start range between eight to ten, and he specifically didn’t book morning classes this semester because he loves his sleep. But still: his grades are slipping, and there’s a cute girl on the line, so he takes his success with warmth  — or perhaps it’s just the thought of spending more time with you, but whatever it is, he feels like he’s glowing, inside out. 

Your first tutoring session with Lee Chan goes surprisingly well. The moment he began halfway guilt tripping  you into tutoring him (“Imagine if my grades slip so far, I don’t get to graduate on time. Could you live with that?”), you knew he was something. And somehow, you still agreed to this, despite being loaded with all the shit a master’s student has on their plate, on top of TA’ing. Maybe you should work on saying no sometimes, but who are you kidding? You don’t have time to deal with your possibly self-destructive flaws, not when your to-do list is three miles long 

Despite your qualms, however, Chan turns out to be a great listener. He doesn’t act pissy when you tell him he’s doing something wrong, either, which is already better than half your students. 

“I probably seem really stupid,” he says with a quiet laugh, as he re-attempts a question from the last quiz.

“Not at all,” you say instantly. “Don’t tell Lee, but calculus is the worst, anyway.”

He lifts his head with curved lips — “Oh? From the words of the mathematical extraordinaire herself?” 

Immediately, you’re growing hot, shaking your head and laughing, looking away. “Oh, come on. Don’t call me that.”

Chan’s eyes don’t move from yours — it’s like you can physically feel the weight of his gaze, sometimes. You’ve never met someone with so much… presence. “Why not?” he asks. “Own it. Professor Lee says that about you all the time.”

“Okay, not me specifically,” you correct quickly, “he says that about Joshua too.”

Chan clicks his tongue dismissively. “Yeah, but Joshua’s a piece of shit anyway, so…”

Your surprise must be visible on your face, because when Chan looks back at you, he laughs out loud, louder than the other students in the library are happy with; they cast him dirty looks, but it’s like they bounce straight off him. He only lowers his voice a little, leaning closer. “Joshua and I are friends,” he explains, amused, “I’m not serious. But anyway, if you don’t even like calculus, what are you doing TA’ing it?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, just… Lee asked me to, so I was like, why not?”

“I can’t imagine anything worse,” Chan says bluntly, “than teaching a bunch of people how to integrate shit.”

A giggle slips out of you before you can prevent it; he makes you do that a lot. Laugh, without meaning to. “Well. That’s why I majored in Math. I don’t mind.” You hesitate. “What are you actually majoring in?”

His eyes do that thing again. Sparkle. He bites down on his lip, as if suppressing a smile. “Math.”

“What?” You can’t help it, you’re laughing again, louder this time and trying to stifle it. “You never said!”

“You never asked!” He mirrors your incredulous tone teasingly. 

“You just let me embarrass myself like that.”

“You didn’t do anything embarrassing.” 

You try to ignore his eyes on you again, picking up your pencil to doodle awkwardly in your notebook. “I thought you were like… on a sports program. Or in, like, accounting or something.”

Impossibly, his smile widens. “Those are two very different things.” 

The playful lilt to his tone does something to your stomach. “Have you finished your question yet?” You change the subject so sharply that he laughs again, sliding his notebook over to you.

You glance over it, blinking in surprise. “That’s perfect,” you say, pushing it back towards him. “Well done.”

That smile shifts into something more — well, if you didn’t know any better, you’d call it flirty. Lopsided and charming. “Yeah, well,” he says, packing up his stuff, “I‘ve got a great teacher.”

The tutoring sessions continue to pass much the same. Chan does his work, but keeps stopping to ask you all kinds of questions in between. Your favourite colour. Your favourite type of coffee. Your favourite movie, TV show, your hometown — somehow, his easy, open nature has you telling him all kinds of things, and more than that, you’re asking him all kinds of things in return.

“You know, I’m not like this with the rest of my tutoring roster,” you observe quietly, as you finish a story about your high school prom. “Like, at all.”

“Good!” he says, grinning at you. He’s wearing glasses today, you notice. He looks — nice. Cute. “That’d be like you’re cheating on me. I’m your favourite student.”

Slightly appalled, you nudge him. “Not true! I’ve never said that. I don’t play favourites.”

“I do,” he says just as swiftly. “I’m your favourite. I can tell.” He pats your hand. “It’s okay, you’re my favourite too.”

You pull your hand away, ignoring the swoop of your stomach. “Focus!”

“How am I supposed to focus when you’re right there?” 

“Easily,” you snap, “since you’re my favourite student.”

Chan positively beams when you say it, not even attempting to hide it as he returns to the problems in front of him. “As long as you can admit it.”

At the end of the session, Chan digs into his bag and slides a candy over to you, and you can’t help the smile that splits your face open. “No way,” you cry, picking it up, “I love these! How did you know?”

He smiles, not even glancing at the candy once, fixing his eyes on you. “You told me. Like, a week ago.”

You barely remember that Something swells up inside you, tight and hot and sweet. “Oh, wow. Thank you, Chan.” You hope he can hear how touched you are, because you can’t quite express it. 

“It’s nothing,” he says, with a small smile, one you can’t quite read. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah,” you say after the shortest of pauses. “Of course. We’re friends.”

He truly is something else. Almost your opposite, with his confidence and his openness and outright friendliness. You can’t quite put it into words, but something warm just pours out of him.

When you say as much to Minghao, your best friend, he laughs in your face. “Chan? Lee Chan?”

“He’s nice,” you protest lightly. Minghao somehow knows him, through Jeonghan or something or other. Briefly, you wonder how many people Chan knows — which really just proves your point. He’s annoyingly likeable, and even though you have to be forced to admit it, he is easily your favourite out of all the students you tutor. It’s barely even a competition; it’s not a competition. Your other students are fine, but they’re not quite Chan.

“Lee Chan is a little shit,” Minghao says with a hidden affection you’ve had to learn to detect. “But, yeah. He’s a good guy.” There’s a pause filled by the surrounding murmurs of people in the coffee shop you guys are in. It’s always overflowing with people, but it’s the only place that serves halfway decent herbal tea for Minghao, so the two of you always end up meeting here.

“How’s Joshua?” Minghao asks suddenly, doing the annoying thing where he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Still as sexy and gentlemanly as ever, is he?”

At the very mention of his name, you feel yourself growing hotter. “He’s fine,” you say shortly. “Busy.”

Your crush on Joshua has never been a secret from Minghao. Even if you’d wanted it to be, Minghao would’ve worked it out in two days, tops. But, as you keep reiterating, it’s just a stupid crush. It’ll fade. Just like your crush on Kim Hongjoong two years ago, and your crush on Kim Namjoon the year before that. You have a habit of letting things die out, and you’re very comfortable in that habit. 

“___,” Minghao says seriously, “you should tell him.”

“There are literally so many things I’d do before I confess. I’d rather memorise the proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem than do that.”

“You never know if you don’t try! And besides,” Minghao adds, softer, “even if he, you know, doesn’t feel that way, Joshua’s not... well, he won’t make you feel bad about anything. You guys can still be friends. Joshua’s nice.”

Which is the sentence that echoes in your head later that same day, when your meeting with Professor Lee and Joshua is over. Lee is long gone, leaving you and Joshua to go over a few minor details with your tutor schedules and office hour planning. Joshua just looks… really good, with all his files spread out in front of him, his silky voice talking about something stupid one of his tutees had done, his long, dyed hair slightly mussed. 

“…and then he asked me how to find where the line intercepts the asymptote!” he finishes, chuckling. You’re a little late with your laugh, too busy focussing on how the afternoon sun lights up his hair, making it look lighter than it actually is.

Joshua calls your name, his smile shifting into something more concerned. “Are you okay?”

Your words stumble into each other on their way out. “I — well, yeah. Fine. I’m fine — good. I’m good.”

You guys can still be friends. 

“Actually, Josh, I wanted to ask you something,” you say in a sudden emboldened rush. 

“Go for it,” he says, smile fading ever so slightly. “Everything okay?”

“I — ” You hesitate, and in that split second, your courage disappears. You stare at him, and your brain decides for you: unattainable. Untouchable. “I forgot,” you finish lamely, ducking your head and shuffling your papers. Surprisingly, you’re not quite at the level of mortification you thought you would be.

“Ookay,” Joshua drags out, still watching you with concern, before he shakes it off and starts to gather his things. “Well, just let me know if you remember. I’m here for you, okay? We’re friends, not just TAs!”

That fucking word again. Friends. Only this time, you realise suddenly, it barely even hurts. 

Maybe you’re just getting used to it.

“So…” Vernon says, sidling up to Chan in their shared kitchen, “how’s your TA?”

Chan sighs, looking mournfully at the spicy ramen he’d just made for himself. So much for peace. It must’ve been the smell that lured Vernon out of his bedroom, but he’s clearly an opportunist; killing two birds with one stone by prying into his life and poaching his food. “Joshua is fine.”

“That’s great, but I know that already,” Vernon says, as he helps himself to some of the ramen. Chan lets him, and that must be how his friend realises something is wrong, because he’s suddenly narrowing his eyes at Chan around his mouthful of noodles. “What is it? Did she turn you down?”

Chan drags out his words. “I haven’t said anything to her. She likes someone else. I can tell.”

Vernon considers this for a moment, characteristically quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure?”

“Well — not really. But I’m like, eighty percent sure? But also I don’t really know her that well, and Jeonghan once said to me she’s always super nice to everyone, so I don’t think she’s into me. But then I also don’t know if she’s into him either! Because she’s nice to me and him and apparently every motherfucker on the planet, so it’s, like, confusing, you know? But like. I think she is into him. She looks at him in a kinda way, so…”

Vernon chews with wide eyes. “Damn. That’s crazy, bro, what are you going to do?

Chan exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I think we’ll be better off as friends. I’ll probably just… give up.”

Vernon nods slowly, already backing away. “Good luck, dude. Here for you.” He raises an awkward fist in solidarity, and that’s when Chan glances at his bowl of ramen and realises it’s empty.

Chan allows himself one day to mope. He even cancels a session for the first time, shooting you a quick message to let you know he isn’t feeling great, and he wallows. Stays in bed the entire twenty four hours, scoffing all the ramen in the house, and now he owes Seungkwan and Vernon two packs each, but still — he feels better. He’s grateful he didn’t let it get too far, at the very least. You guys can still be friends, and one day this will be a funny joke he slips into conversation.

When he shows up to the next session, a few days later, he’s determined not to show any hint of awkwardness. He plunks his books down with a renewed energy, startling you as you take out your headphones. 

“I was going to ask if you’re feeling better,” you start dryly, “but I can see that’s clearly the case.”

“Yeah. Nothing big, I’m fine now,” he waves off your concern. Heartsick, maybe. It still twinges at him, when he sees your soft smile, faintly smells your trademark perfume, your colour coded notes in front of you. He doesn’t know when highlighters became so endearing, when he learnt that you always overuse the pastel green one. 

“Okay, so asymptotes,” you begin, and Chan scoots closer, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“You’re my asymptote,” he says with solemn seriousness, “because I always tend towards you.” 

You fluster easily, Chan has noticed. You avoid his gaze, but you’re laughing, telling him how terrible his jokes are but still — you’re laughing.

Suddenly, in only a few minutes, the thought of getting over you is a lot more daunting than he imagined. You make it harder when you laugh at the stupid joke he quips a moment later, too; you always tell him he has an infectious laugh, but yours is like music to his ears, no matter how hard you try to suppress it in the library. 

“Come on,” you say, finally, gathering yourself together. “Asymptotes. It’s our last lesson for a bit. Are you going home for Thanksgiving?”

“Leaving tomorrow afternoon,” he confirms. “What about you?”

“Tomorrow morning,” you say. “Asymptotes will be the end of this chapter, so it’s perfect timing, really. We can start the new stuff after the break.”

Privately, Chan thinks the break really is perfect timing. He can wallow a little more, back at home with the comfort of his mother’s food and his father’s baseball reruns. He’ll come back ready to finish his tutoring, ace calculus, and be your friend. With firm emphasis on friend. For a moment, he considers you and Joshua as a couple, and honestly, as much as it stings, it’s cute. It makes sense. 

After the break, winter hits full force. Your first tutoring session at the library is with Chan, and you’re layered up to the max, treating yourself to coffee as a shield against the bite of the cold outside. Vaguely, you remember Chan saying something about how he only drinks lattes hot, and so you order one for him too, taking extra packets of sugar and a stirring spoon on your way out. You know he likes to do the sugar himself.

“I’m late, I know.” You shrug off your coat when you arrive at your guys’ usual table, shaking the raindrops off your coat and hair with an apologetic smile. “It literally started pouring just two minutes before I got here, but here — coffee.” You unload your arms on the table in front of him, slightly breathless, tugging a hand through your untamed hair. 

You catch Chan looking at you, something unreadable in his gaze, and you wince. “Sorry,” you apologise again.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I’ve just — I’ve never seen you so…”

“Messy?” you finish, laughing half self-consciously.

“Disorganised,” he corrects, and it feels gentler. “You’re kind of, like, windswept?” He pauses, quieter. “You look — pretty.”

You ran to the library a solid ten minutes ago. Your heart shouldn’t still be beating this fast. “Thank you,” you reply, just as quietly. There’s silence for a beat, fraught with some sort of tension, before you slap the textbook with too much enthusiasm, “So, uh, next chapter!”

“Next chapter,” he agrees quickly, and just like that, the weirdness dissipates, and it’s just you and Chan.

At least, until Joshua steps in the library. He’s browsing the section near you; you see him before he sees you, but only by a few seconds. You just have enough time to think how cute his scarf is, and then his eyes fall on you and Chan, and he waves with a smile. 

You wave back as he nears the table. “I don’t want to interrupt,” Joshua explains quickly, “just wanted to say hi. To both of you. How’s it going?” He directs his question to Chan, adding — “Is she running you to the ground?”

“She wouldn’t,” Chan says simply. He doesn’t say much else as Joshua says his goodbyes and disappears between the shelves, but you’re still a little harried-looking, dusting down your clothes unnecessarily. 

“So,” Chan says casually, as you return your focus to him and take a sip of water to try and cool you down, “how long have you had a crush on Joshua?”

You choke. Heat curls up your neck, and not because of your coughing — hot-faced and spluttering, you demand, “What are you talking about?” Even as you speak, you can tell your voice is pitched too high. Too defensive.

The younger boy gives you a look. “Come on. I’m not blind.”

You duck your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, so this question about limits — ”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he sings, cutting you off. “You have a big fat crush on Hong Joshua!”

Eyes wide, you slap a hand over his mouth, glancing behind you in horror. “Oh my God, keep your voice down!”

Beneath your palm, Chan gives you the most self-satisfied, victorious look, and belatedly, you realise you’ve given yourself away. “Fuck you,” you say, without any venom, releasing him and leaning back, trying extremely hard not to sulk. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“It is when you’re making googly eyes at him right in front of me. Your student.”

“I don’t make googly eyes!” you object immediately, horrified. “I’ve never made googly eyes.”

“Whatever you say, teach.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t!”

“Okay, I said.” He still has that smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. It’s infuriating.

Briefly, your mind flits back to the stumbling boy you’d spoken to when he’d first asked for your help, back in late September. You miss him, you think sarcastically. He was the total opposite of the guy in front of you now.

“So?” Chan leans forward over the desk with raised, expectant eyebrows.

“So what?”

“So, how long? A month? Two?”

Your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. Again.

“Longer?”

 “A year,” you whisper, avoiding his gaze.

“A year?!” He practically yelps, and you have never wanted to bury yourself alive more than you do at this moment.

“A year and a half. Or something,” you confirm weakly, and then shake your head. You gently push his forehead with the eraser side of your pencil, forcing him back to his side of the desk. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m meant to be helping you with limits today.”

“I think you need more help than I do,” he says with sudden, sweet sympathy, patting your hand how he always does. You snatch it away and glare at him, but he ploughs on. “How have you not made a single move for a year and a half? You should do something about it. Move past the googly eyes.”

“Don’t want to. Can’t make me.” You tap your pencil against his open, untouched /textbook. “Now focus. On your work, and not on prying into my love life!”

He clicks his tongue softly, but picks up his own pencil again; inwardly, you let out a soft sigh of relief. Mortification still boils in the pits of your stomach — a guy you barely even know caught on so quickly. Are you really so obvious?

Chan works quietly for all of three minutes, and then he glances at you again. “I don’t want to hear it,” you say warningly, cutting him off before he can even start.

Amusement sparkles in his eyes. “I didn’t say anything!”

”You were going to.”

“I think you should make a move, that’s all.”

“I think it’s none of your business.” 

“You said we were friends now! I’m trying to help my friend!”

“I take it back. Strictly tutor and student. We’re no longer friends.”

“No, seriously. I think you could totally get him to fall for you.”

You audibly snort. “Chan, do you know how many people have a crush on Joshua? He wouldn’t look twice at me. And I’m fine with that.”

“I’m not!”

You groan, tip your head on to the textbook in front of you. Then you turn, glaring at him and his entertained smile — with a smushed cheek and sulky pout, you ask, ”Why is this such a big deal to you, anyway?”

Chan almost seems to fold in on himself when you ask that. For someone so open and friendly, he has a way of shuttering down that startles you a little. It’s subtle, but you’re starting to notice it; his avoidant eyes and the faint pink on the apples of his cheeks. “I don’t know,” he says, shrugging with obviously feigned nonchalance. “I guess — I think you deserve to be happy.”

Sometimes people say things that hit you straight in the gut. Wind you. Leave you just a little bit breathless with their sincerity. 

You open and close your mouth like a fucking fish. “Oh,” you say at last, stupidly, “that’s — that’s really nice of you, Chan.”

Whatever brief embarrassment he was experiencing, he seems to be over it. “I know. I’m the best. And that’s why I’m going to help you.”

You laugh again, amused and slightly endeared by his enthusiasm. “Okay, fairy godmother. Let’s get back to work, maybe.”

“No, seriously,” Chan insists, brown eyes sparkling. “I’m going to teach you how to flirt.”

The previous flattering you felt disappears in the space of a second. “Excuse me?” you say incredulously, but you’re laughing already, simply at the pure audacity. “Who says I don’t know how to flirt?”

“You did,” he says, matching your smile, “when you didn’t make a single move for a year and a half. But don’t worry. I’m going to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

“No, but you need it, so I’m going to help you anyway,” he nods generously.

“How kind,” you say sarcastically, before thwacking his shoulder with your thinnest textbook.

Chan bursts out laughing as he dodges it, before switching back to that tone — the one that had you caving into him only a few weeks back, when he asked you to be his tutor. (Briefly, you wonder how it’s only been a few weeks. Part of you feels like you’ve known him forever.)

“Seriously,” he continues, “I can help you. I’ve literally never been rejected in my life.”

“Oh, yeah?” You snort, but honestly, you don’t doubt it. 

He tilts his head to the side. “Well, like, once in middle school. It doesn’t count. 100% success rate, baby.”

“99%, maybe.”

“That is not how statistics works,” he says smugly. “Thought you’d know better, teach.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best. I’m going to get you a boyfriend; literally just give me twenty minutes at the end of the rest of our tutoring sessions.”

“We only have, like, three left.” 

“That’ll be enough.”

Fuck it, you think. You don’t think this will help you with Joshua — nor do you want it to — but why the hell not? If it makes Chan happy, as it so clearly seems to…

“Ten minutes,” you sigh.

His eyes brighten. “Fifteen.”

“Fine,” you acquiesce after a short moment, waving your hand dismissively. “From next time, though. I don’t have time today.”

You try to ignore his Cheshire cat grin, but it’s infectious. You’re mirroring it by the time he slaps the desk victoriously, assuring you, “You won’t regret this, I swear.”

“I’m sure I will. So, limits — ”

“Limits,” he agrees, an infuriatingly triumphant smirk on his lips. 

You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling. “You have no limits.”

“Lesson one,” Chan says, a little too gleefully, only a few days later. “Body language.” 

He watches you pass a hand over your forehead with a grimace. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“First tip is to not be doing things like that when he speaks,” Chan says lightly, pulling your hands away from your forehead. He places his index fingers either side of your lips, and gently, carefully, he pulls the corners of them upwards. “Smile.” 

You blink at him, and it is, unfortunately, the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “But,” he continues, shaking it off and pulling his fingers away, “you’re good at smiling anyway, so that’s not a key concern.”

Surprise appears on your features. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before. I usually get the opposite.”

Chan is slightly taken-aback, because you’re always smiling. You’re quiet, definitely, but you laugh super easy, and smile even easier than that. 

“But go on.” You change the subject quickly, and Chan realises that despite yourself, you’re getting intrigued now. 

“Tip number two,” he continues, magnanimously, “eye contact.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What? Why not?” The swiftness of your refusal startles him, but even as he asks, he kind of knows; you tend to avoid eye contact, especially when you’re shy, or embarrassed, or confused, or… well, a lot of the time. “You can practise.”

You look at him with horror. “Practise?”

“With me,” he nods, steeling himself already. “Now.”

“You’re joking.”

“I never joke,” he lies straight to your face, just to make you relax. Sure enough, your shoulders loosen almost instantly, and you let out half a smile. “Come on. Just for two minutes.” 

“Okay,” you finally agree, meeting his stare. Chan leans forward just the slightest bit, and for the first time in his life, he understands what it means to sink into someone else’s eyes. Your gaze isn’t intense, but it’s captivating, and he’s not sure if that’s his own feelings surfacing up again, or it’s just — natural. Either way, being this close to you is doing something funny to his ribs, the same thing that happened when you brought him coffee. 

He tries to distract himself. “Can’t believe we only have two tutoring sessions left.” His voice has lowered instinctively, taken on a slightly gravelly tone that seems to surprise you a little Your lips part for a second, and then you nod; he watches your throat bob as you swallow.

“Yeah,” you say, equally as hushed. “Time flies, huh?”

His lips are dry. The tip of his tongue darts out, and he watches as you seem to follow it. “Yeah. When you’re having fun.”

Chan goes home that night more confused than before, and it only gets worse when Seungkwan’s waiting for him in the living room, hands on hips. One look at him, and Chan can tell he’s going to play interrogator.

“I just don’t know if this is a good idea,” Seungkwan says, at last, after Chan slumps on to the couch. “Helping her get with Joshua. You’re going to break your own heart.”

Chan wrinkles his nose. “I am not. We’re just friends, Seungkwan. I’m over it.”

Seungkwan looks at him disbelievingly, and Chan rolls his eyes. “I’m getting over it,” he corrects himself. “But we’re fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’m your best friend,” Seungkwan replies instantly, “Of course I’m going to worry. You just — you open your heart so easily. Which is a good thing!” he tacks on hastily, “But she… well.” 

Arching a brow, Chan leans forward. “She what?”

“Let me put it this way. You’re a romantic, and from what I can tell, she’s a cynic.”

Chan has never given much thought to what other people think about you, not until now. In all honesty, he’d had a similar perception of you, at first. Extremely organised. Kind of stoic. Nice, but distant. But now, he’s sure that nothing has ever been further from the truth. You’re reserved, that goes without a doubt, but you’re not cold. You’re kind. Care immensely for your friends, even though there are only a few of them. Shy, but sweet, and he thinks it’s a fucking shame that people can’t see that. He’d thought you were distant, but he’s heard other people describe you as uptight. Snobbish.

All people do is talk, he thinks with a little contempt. 

He looks back at his roommate. “You don’t know her, Seungkwan. She’s not a cynic.”

His friend shrugs. “I trust you. Just… be careful.”

Your second “lesson” with Chan begins with him grabbing you by the hand and pulling you in between random bookshelves. 

“Stand here,” he instructs, before patting you on the shoulders. You can feel the warmth of his hands through your sweater. “Okay,” he says, “lesson two is all about conversation. He’s going to fall in love with your mouth — not like that,” he adds quickly, when he sees you biting down on your lip to hide your laugh. “Mind out the gutter, teach.”

You grin at him cheekily. “You’re the teacher now. Come on, then.” The truth is, these lessons are more entertaining than anything. You’re enjoying it, hanging out with Chan without having to remind him to finish his questions or double-check the textbook. 

“Be serious!” he complains, but his eyes have that usual sparkle to them. He glances at your clothes for a moment. “Nice sweater, by the way. You look good in blue. But anyway, quick tips — remember what he likes, compliment him, talk about what you have in common, stuff like that. Okay, I’m going to go over and I want you to imagine I’m Joshua. So you see me randomly in the library, what are you doing?”

You snort. “Running in the other direction.”

He holds a finger up, hiding a smile at your silly answer. “Bzzzt. Wrong answer. You lose ten points.”

“When did I have ten points to begin with?” you argue, but still, you’re struggling to suppress your giggles. 

“You didn’t. You’re in the negatives.” He flicks you gently on the forehead. “Try again.”

“Ow,” you complain, pouting. “Okay, I’m meant to say hi.”

“Ding! Ten points. Back to zero.” Chan waits expectantly, and you look at him in confusion. He motions with his fingers. “Go on. Say hi.”

“I am not roleplaying with you!” you hiss, horrified, pushing his arm gently. He stumbles back exaggeratedly. “We do math, Chan, not drama!”

“Actually I do math and history,” he corrects nonchalantly, “and history is dramatic.”

Flummoxed, you repeat after him — “History? Since when do you do history?”

“Since, like, three years ago…?” He laughs at your expression, but you can’t bring yourself to mirror his lightness, for once. 

You feel rooted to your spot. “You’re a double major?” Something uncomfortable stirs in the pits of your stomach, and you know you’re not being rational — there’s no reason why this should jar you so much, but you feel jarred. “How did I not know this?” you ask, more to yourself. You turn to him, head moving so sharply he almost steps back. “Did you ever mention this?

Chan’s smile is fading. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” he laughs awkwardly, “it never came up. It’s not a big deal!”

“It is to me,” you insist, “Chan, you’re my friend! I should know this stuff!”

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeats, his brows furrowed. “Seriously. You know me better than half my friends already, and we’ve only been friends for like, a few months.” He attempts a smile — “You even know about the whole story behind that girl rejecting me back in middle school, I don’t tell that to everyone.”

“Yeah,” you say distractedly, “I guess so.”

Chan looks at the time. “Don’t you have a meeting now? With Joshua?”

You tilt your head, confused, your mind still on his history major.  “I do?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he reminds you, and you snap out of it, checking the time yourself. “You’re going to be late,” Chan laughs, gently pushing you towards your bag. “Go!”

You wave at him as you gather your stuff haphazardly, calling an, “I’ll text you later!” ok your way out. 

“Remember my top tips!” he calls back, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You laugh and flip him off, bundling yourself out the library — only to run smack into another girl leaving at the same time. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” you apologise, helping her pick up her pencils. “I wasn’t looking!”

“It’s okay,” she assures you quickly. “By the way,” she adds, “you and your boyfriend are so cute!”

“My… boyfriend?” You hand her stuff back to her with a furrowed brow.

She beams at you sunnily. “Yeah! I always see you guys on your cute study dates over there, it’s soo sweet. The way you guys look at each other is, like, to die for.”

“Thank you,” you say automatically, before opening your mouth to correct her. But it’s too late, she’s gone and you’re left standing in the exit with a thousand thoughts rushing through your mind, ones that preoccupy you all the way back to yours and Joshua’s shared office. 

They only multiply when you see Joshua, and feel absolutely nothing. There’s no typical dip in your stomach, no stuttering heartbeat, just a familiar smile and nothing else, which is when you realise — you haven’t been feeling anything like what you used to feel.

At least, not around Joshua.

“That’s the first time you’ve been late, like, ever,” Joshua observes, “Were you with Chan?”

“Yeah, I — uh, how did you know that?” You cut yourself off to stare at him in surprise.

“Our tutoring schedules are right there,” he smiles, nodding to the pinboard next to him. You almost sigh in relief. A normal explanation, finally. Something that makes sense. These realisations and observations are nothing more than —

“But you always have a certain look after you see him anyway,” Joshua continues obliviously. “Your eyes get all shiny. You smile more.” He pauses, grins at you knowingly, “You guys are close, huh?”

“I — I don’t — ” You stutter feebly, because suddenly everything is hot and you need to lie down. “I don’t feel well,” you almost shout, way too loud; Joshua startles, but nods. 

“Okay,” he says, worriedly. “We can reschedule, but do you need a ride home?”

“No!” you snap, before taking a deep breath. “Sorry. No. I think — the fresh air will be good for me.”

Joshua lets you go, and you feel close to tears the whole way home. 

You can’t stomach this, you think, curled up in a ball under your duvet. It doesn’t make sense; you may be a math major, but none of this is adding up.

“I like Joshua,” you say out loud, and it sounds hollow. It sounds false. It doesn’t bring anything with it. 

Slowly, tentatively, you say, “I like Chan.” 

That brings so much, but more than anything, it brings warmth. Warmth like the serious brown of his eyes, his rough hands, his smile, his laugh, the way he chews his lip when he’s thinking hard about a question. 

You stick your head in a pillow and let out a scream.

Chan doesn’t know if he should invite you to the end of semester party that Seungcheol is throwing, considering his absolute failure in getting over you, but he does it anyway. He invited you to the Halloween one, and you turned him down, saying you had plans with some other friends, but he reckons it’s worth trying again, so he does just that.

Your response comes within minutes. 

[16:43] you: isn’t that the night before our last tutoring?

[16:44] chan: i know! but i’ll be on time i promise i wont even drink that much [16:44] chan: it’ll be like a celebration!!

[16:45] you: of what?

[16:45] chan: you put up with me for a full semester :)

He watches your typing bubble appear and reappear multiple times with a frown, until:

[16:48] you: i don’t “put up” with you chan

A smile. A big cheesy one that has his cheeks aching a little.

[16:48] you: we’re friends, aren’t we?

No matter how hard he tries, that still stings. 

The party sneaks up faster than expected, and Chan agrees to meet you there, because you’re coming with Minghao, and he agreed to help Seungcheol set up before he knew you were coming. Which is, you know, whatever. He’s not a little upset that he doesn’t get to pick you up in his car and do the whole opening-your-door-for-you thing — not at all, no matter what Seungkwan tries to imply.

Joshua probably would’ve, he thinks miserably, as people begin to arrive. That’s what you’d once said, ages ago, that you liked about him. 

‘He’s sweet,’ you’d said, ‘and he, like, holds doors open for me.’

‘The bar is in hell,’ Chan had said in response, making you snort with laughter, hiding your face. 

“No moping at my party!” Seungcheol yells as he sails by, carrying a load of ping pong balls — they’re setting up beer pong in the other room, but for once, Chan doesn’t feel the need to take up Jeonghan’s challenge. He dithers by the door, looking up hopefully every time someone enters, and every time, it isn’t you. 

Until it is. You come in just after Minghao, and Chan’s breath is quite literally taken away. It’s horrifyingly cliché, how gorgeous you look — you always do, but he’s never seen you dressed up before. Not like this, with a blue dress that falls to your mid-thigh, hair done to perfection. Makeup too, that makes your eyes look bigger and softer, that matches your outfit exactly.

Something swells inside him when he sees you on your tiptoes, craning your neck this way and that; instinctively, he thinks you’re looking for him. And when your eyes finally land on his, you smile so big that his insides turn molten; hot and tight and full, so incredibly full. He moves towards you without even realising, a moth to a flame. 

“You look — ” He swallows. Hard. “Amazing. You look amazing.”

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can, Minghao mutters something in your ear, gesturing to a room on the right before tugging you away. Chan watches as you send him an apologetic wave — and then you’re gone, melting into the sea of people that Seungcheol somehow knows. And he’s tugged in completely the opposite direction, casting one longing look after you.

About an hour into the party, you see Chan with someone else. A girl. Short, dark-haired, bright-eyed — pretty. So pretty.

You’re not one to get jealous, usually. But that’s the only word to describe the way your stomach drops and your heart twists. Green-eyed monster, rearing in your chest. She makes him laugh, and he touches her arm when he does, and honestly, it’s a completely innocent picture. They’re probably just friends, and you’re usually so secure in yourself, but with Chan — you feel everything but secure. It was only last week you allowed yourself to acknowledge you were halfway to falling in love with him.

Joshua was familiar, at least. This is not, which is why it took you so long to accept it. 

You smooth down your dress (“You look good in blue.”), and watch as Chan leans down to hear her over the music. Maybe it’s the second drink in your hand, which you’d only taken after being egged on by Mingyu — he’d handed you his “professional” jungle juice. It tastes like shit, but recent events have brought with them a desire to get absolutely fucking wasted.

Tragically, you’ve managed tipsy at best, but it’s still enough to have you over-emotional, and with one last look at Chan and the pretty girl, you escape the watchful eyes of Minghao to the balcony of Seungcheol’s disgustingly wealthy place to cry. Which you do, with shaky, gulping breaths, and blurred vision.

When you’ve calmed yourself just the slightest bit, you glance at yourself in your phone camera, lit up by the yellow lighting inside. The girl in the mirror is almost unrecognisable — drunk and face streaked with cheap mascara (advertised as waterproof but clearly not).

God, your head aches. When did life become so fucking complicated?

You know when; you know exactly when, that little snarky voice in the corner of your head tells you, flashing you an image of a certain brown-haired boy with his stupid smile. You know that this mess started somewhere around when he waltzed into your life, brandishing his flirting tips and stupid math puns.  What you don’t know is when he slipped his way into your heart, when you somehow gave him the power to crush it in his fingers. 

That’s what it feels like. Lee Chan has your heart in the palm of his hand, and he doesn’t have a fucking clue.

The thought makes you feel slightly sick — or maybe it’s the overconsumption of the jungle juice that Mingyu cooked up, but whatever it is, your stomach churns uncomfortably, leaving acid climbing your throat. You cast a contemptuous look at the mixture in your red solo cup, and with a sigh, dump the rest of it over the balcony next to you. You ignore the call of hey, fuck you! that comes from below, instead sinking to the floor, hugging your knees and leaning your aching, hot against the cool metal railing to blink away the tears that burn behind your eyes.

Momentarily you consider how at the start of the year, you’d never have expected yourself to be here, not in a million years. At the SVT frat house, hidden in a corner to weep over a boy. A boy that isn’t Hong Joshua — a boy that is, technically, in some ways, your student.

“Fuck you, Lee Chan,” you say bitterly, and as always, you can’t bring yourself to mean it.

“Why’s that?” A familiar voice has you snapping your head towards the balcony doorway. Tall and smiling as always, Joshua regards you with a look of mixed sympathy and pity. You resent it. 

“Fuck you too!” You try to scowl at him; it doesn’t quite work, and you’re too drunk and tired to muster up the energy to be angry at him. Joshua didn’t really do anything; the only crime you can hold against him is obliviousness. He’s not the one holding your heart in his hands. You don’t think he ever really was — at the very least, what you felt with him was never like this. There was never so much.

Joshua doesn’t say anything, just laughs and sits next to you on the floor. Both of you have your backs pressed to the railing, and he nudges you softly with his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

You swallow thickly. “No.”

He smiles ever so slightly, nodding to your tearful face. “Yeah, I mean, I figured.”

You let out a watery giggle. “God. I’m such a mess.”

Joshua hums, like he’s actually considering your words deeply. “You aren’t, really. You’re like, the least messy person I know.”

You sniffle a little. “What?”

“Come on, ___, you’re like the most put-together person in this whole university. It’s kind of refreshing to see you outside of that.”

“What, you enjoy seeing me cry?” 

“No, of course not,” he says quickly, bumping your shoulder. “Just. In general, I mean. You’ve been happier lately.”

You gesture to your tear tracks. “This is happy?”

Joshua clicks his tongue at you. “I think Chan is really good for you,” he says finally, quietly. Like he knows he’s broaching a forbidden topic — which he is. You flinch at the very sound of his name. “He makes you happy. That’s what I mean. You should give yourself a shot.”

“No,” you say immediately, automatically. “I can’t.”

“You could,” he says, without reproach. “If you let yourself.”

You let that settle. Silence falls — or at least as much silence as you can get when you’re metres away from a house party. “I used to have a crush on you, you know.” You don’t look at him, facing straight ahead thoughtfully.

Joshua smiles, rueful. “I know.”

You snap your head round, and your disbelief must be etched onto your face because he laughs. “I could tell,” he shrugs. “You got flustered so easily, sometimes.”

The slightest of groans. “I do that, apparently.” You hug your legs to you again, resting your cheek on your knees as you look at Joshua, sitting by your side. “I almost asked you out, too.” 

“I probably would’ve said yes,” he confesses honestly, but still, somehow, you don’t feel anything. “But then I saw how you are with Chan. And that is not like this,” he continues gently. “The way you looked at me back then is nothing, compared to how you look at him.”

“Don’t tell him.” You’re not afraid to beg.

“God forbid you let yourself feel something, right?” Joshua laughs a little, but his eyes bore into you with sincere sympathy. “Why are you so afraid of your own feelings?”

You don’t know what to say. But you’re saved from having to think about it, because Lee Chan himself sticks his head through the door, something shifting on to his face when his eyes finally land on you. 

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you for — ” he freezes for a second, the exact moment his eyes land on Joshua sitting next to you “ — ages,” he finishes, slowly, before taking a step back. “I should go.”

“No, stay,” Joshua says, quickly, standing up. “We were just finished.”

Chan fidgets with the end of his shirt as Joshua leaves, casting one more empathetic smile at you, and the moment the older boy is gone, Chan steps closer towards you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t realise he was — you’re crying.” His change in tone is so abrupt, from apologetic to dead serious in half a second. ”What happened?”

“Nothing,” you say, too high-pitched. “I’m fine now. It’s fine.”

“Was it Joshua?” he demands, already looking back in the direction his friend disappeared to. “What did he say?”

“What? No. It wasn’t him.” You try to change the subject. “I am older than you, you know, I don’t need to be babysat. I hope you didn’t interrupt your fun just to come looking for me.”

He smiles, but his eyes don’t. “Only by a year. And anyway, I have more fun with you.”

You hate that your mind flits back to that girl, the laughing one. “What about your friends? I saw you with, um, what’s her name? The pretty one, dark hair?” 

Subtlety is not your strong suit. 

Chan just blinks at you. “You mean Jana? Yeah, she wanted me to play beer pong against her and her girlfriend. But I did that.” Something untwists in your stomach. He steps closer, fishing a tissue out of nowhere, and with the tenderest touch, wipes at the makeup staining your cheeks.

He’s so close, you can see every individual eyelash. “Why? Were you jealous?” he asks lightly, referring to Jana as he uses one hand to cup your cheek and remove the dark mess under your eyes more carefully.

“No!” Your voice is harsher than intended, jerking out of his grip. and his eyes flick to yours with worry.

“I was kidding,” he says softly, frowning, “Is everything okay, teach?”

Alcohol blurs your rational thinking. You lean your forehead against his chest with the deepest sigh. “Sorry. Sorry.” A short breath. “Chan, I’m so tired.”

He wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back up and down. “Are you drunk?”

You shake your head. “I was tipsy, but I only had two drinks. I’m sober now. Just… exhausted.” 

“I can take you home,” he murmurs against your ear; he’s so warm, he always is, but his touch sends goosebumps all over your skin. “Is that what you want?”

You lean back, look him in the eye, but neither of you let go of each other. Eye contact. From lesson one. “What’s the third lesson?”

“What?”

“Tomorrow. Our last lesson. What’s it on?”

He’s silent for a minute. “I don’t know,” he replies, at last. 

You cock your head to the side, questioningly, and it’s like something in him snaps, and the words come rushing out, stumbling into each other — “I’ve been making these up as I go along. On the spot.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised but too numb to feel it properly. “Why?”

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, looking defeated. “I don’t know. Well. I do. I just don’t know how to tell you.”

Something clicks for you. I’ve got a great teacher. You’re my favourite too. You look — pretty. I think you deserve to be happy. You look good in blue. 

“Chan,” you say, taking an abrupt step back. Your voice is hoarse suddenly, scratchy with yet another realisation. “What colour is my dress?”

He looks utterly perplexed by your swift change in subject, but he obliges you anyway. “Blue. Why?”

“Do you remember,” you begin, voice shaking ever so slightly. This is the precipice. You’re taking the leap. God forbid you let yourself feel something — well, you are. “Do you remember a week ago? Lesson two?”

“Conversation,” he nods, and you can see his mind working a hundred miles an hour. 

“I was wearing that sweater, and you said — ”

“You look good in blue,” he finishes at once. His eyes flit between you and the dress, and you see the exact moment it dawns on him; the light of comprehension. “But you — Joshua — ”

You shake your head at the question he doesn’t ask. 

It’s like he’s frozen. A minute or a century passes, you’re not sure which, before his eyes meet yours again, filled with something heavy, raw, tender emotion. “How long?”

“Long enough,” you say, and then you’re kissing him, or he’s kissing you, you’re not sure who moves first, or if you move at the same time, but whatever it is — you’re melting into him and he is melting into you, and it’s like your heart gives a happy little sigh. Your shoulders relax, and the tension of the past few weeks evaporates in a few gentle touches.

You break apart with a soft little ‘tch’ sound, and he looks at you with full eyes and the shyest smile you’ve ever seen him wear. 

“You know, technically, you’re still my student,” you say, slightly breathless, entirely giddy. 

He rolls his eyes, tugging you back in already, sliding his arms around your waist. “Yeah, for a week.”

“And a half,” you add, as he begins to kiss up your neck. “You’d better ace your exam next week, after all our hard work.”

He presses his nose into your neck, huffing out a laugh. “I can’t believe that’s what you’re worried about. Now, of all things.”

“That’s what you should be worried about,” you say, bringing a hand up to his hair, running through it with your fingers as you’ve wanted to for so long. “That, and walking me home, maybe.”

“I fully intend to do at least one of those things,” he says, landing a chaste kiss on your lips. “We have a lot to talk about, you know. Starting with me asking you out. Properly.” 

A hint of mischief appears in your smile. “Do well in your exam, and I’ll consider it.”

Chan pulls back, a familiar, confident smirk on his lips. “You have yourself a deal. But until then…”

“We’re still at a party,” you say, dodging his lips with a laugh, even though you really don’t want to. Not at all. “We can’t be that couple.”

He drops his forehead against yours. “We can be whatever the fuck we want. Nobody’s looking, anyway.”

And so you let him kiss you, again and again and again, until he walks you home, and does the same at your door, and the same in your living room. Over and over, making up for all the times he wanted to but couldn’t, he whispers. Your whole body softens at the weight of his hands, travelling the small of your back, cupping your cheek, squeezing your hips. His lips are on yours, and yours are on his, and everything makes sense. Everything adds up.

a/n: (yes another) i hate this so much but i think i’ve been dealing with it too long so im just going to. throw it out there. thank you for reading!!! i’d love to hear what you think!!!! hopefully i’ll venture into longfic more often <3

[rosiebunnysclouds]

⭐️ving tips <3

1. the most basic but most helpful had to be DRINK WATER! staying hydrated is so important and can definitely help when your craving food

2. for me a rubber band on the wrist is so helpful, every time i get hungry i snap it’s against my wrist!

3. if your in public avoid places where lots of people are eating! it’s can make you feel compelled to eat!

4. if/when you cant avoid food do something to distract you read a book or use tumblr!

5. one of my personal faves is sleeping, when your asleep you can’t eat and can’t think about food so try taking some naps!

that’s all! leave your tips and tricks in the replies if you wanna answer as always be safe my angels!

[fvckyujay]

“Binging because you ate two cookies

Is like

Stomping on your phone because you dropped it”

[camandemstudios]

camandemstudios Seventeen TA collab taglist

@woozidanisms @haneulparadx @aaniag @intoanothermind @abibliolife

@awritersescape @thepoopdokyeomtouched @jnginlov @chanichanvhan @vlbi

@baalkoo @odevote118 @jenowithjaem @Scoupsjin @dreamsbloomout

@hopelessromanticbella @tacosandbitch @mankidoll @wonhannie @cookiearmy

@beautifully-excused @futuristicenemychaos @bobathi @tigerhoshii @dxntletmegxyoonie

@lukeys-giggle @z0mh0lic @shiannprincess101 @dawgyeom @coffeesweetx

@milkyruins @leticiaesteveslp @idk13me @quiescentlyme @monamipencil

@bspoju @ahuiahoe @min-has-trusttissues @atinyinateezverse @cowboydk

@avocifera @allieyaaa @chrollo-s-princess @sourkimchi @gyukissr

@impossiblecollectivekoala @wqnwoos @ourkivee @wondrousies @cheoliehansoliereblogs

@svtrightherekids @weakformingyu @lllucere @soonsgrl @sarabencze

@wwjagabeee @taesungx @moonjeonhui @black-swan-blog27 @leahhhher

@gyuguys @c-oupsie @bittersweet-folder @hyeisssante @napipope-ta

@variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lizza2001 @wwjagabeee @leigh-darling @roidagobertlvr

@Sheilogreen @livinlikelarry2934

pulse points | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. Being the TA for your anatomy class has always been really rewarding, especially stemming in your passion for the medical field. But as it’s approaching the peak of the school semester and labs have gotten more intense, you aren’t surprised to be dedicating your time to tutoring your strangely handsome, dorky, yet enigmatic classmate during after school hours — and reassuring him how to not be afraid of dissections. PAIRING. wen junhui x TA!reader (ft. performance unit as jun's roommates + mentions of wonwoo and jihoon) GENRE. fluff, classmates to lovers, humour WARNINGS/TAGS. unrealistic TA x student dynamics lmao, lots of medical sciency-anatomy talk, talks about dissections n cutting into things (they dissect a sheep brain), mentions of tools used for dissections, yn is wayyy too studious its a bit unhealthy perhaps, their love language is napping together n sharing food :(, alcohol and drinking (yn gets drunk 😣), they flirt in the middle of a damn dissection AHHAHA WORD COUNT. 15.9k

notes: this is my fic for the "back to school" collab hosted by @camandemstudios! i hope u all enjoy <3 was lowkey hating this fic as i wrote it but... i think it turned out fine?!?! thank you to all my moots, specifically @bananabubble @slytherinshua @etherealyoungk and the collab discord server for either helping me w ideas n brainrot or reading over the fic!! love u all to the stars and back <3

Three dollars is not enough for Jun to buy himself lunch. 

He could probably snag himself a stale, English muffin from the dining hall, but then he’d be walking around campus with a dry tongue until after his classes end. And unsurprisingly, he forgot his water bottle back in his apartment. Briefly, he considers texting Soonyoung or Minghao to perhaps drop by the apartment and grab his water bottle or even a quick snack that’ll last him, but the two of them were already knee deep enough of responsibilities of their own. 

Fucking capitalism. 

He’s already out of breath speed walking all the way from across campus and through four different hallways. The large windows of the science building bring in the natural sunlight at the peak of the afternoon, allowing it to cascade across the polished floors and right to the ends of his feet with every step that he takes. 

Jun purses his lips together tightly as he rounds one last corner before arriving in front of his current class: Anatomy. The quick glance at the time displayed on his phone shows that he’s around eight minutes late, which is way better than the fifteen minutes from last week. His shoulders slouch slightly with a bit of dread as he reaches for the doorknob and pulls it open.

Compared to the beginning of the year, there’s more empty seats in the lecture hall now. Honestly, Jun is surprised he hasn’t dropped out of the class yet, because his grade in all honesty isn’t… the best, to put it simply𑁋he’s passing, somehow, but just barely.

But he simply can’t afford to drop it and take on a new class like a snap of a finger, and he knows that if he bails now, he’ll only be prolonging his graduation date, a situation neither his parents nor his bank account would be happy about. He wasn’t even supposed to be in this class in the first place, but his horrible procrastination habits and the fact that the other classes he wanted filled up so quickly left him with no other choice.

Jun sits down in a seat near the back of the class, trying to blend in and hoping the professor won’t notice his tardiness. He swiftly pulls out his notebook and laptop and redirects his focus to the front of the classroom, where he sees Professor Lee already lecturing something about vascular anatomy and blood circulation, motioning towards the slideshow displayed on the screen. 

“…the brachiocephalic trunk branches off the aortic arch, which divides into the right subclavian artery and the right common carotid artery. These arteries supply blood to the arm and the brain, respectively…”

The words seem to flow through his brain like water. Even when he jots them down in his notes for him to study later, he reads the words like hieroglyphics. Perhaps it’s the hunger getting to him or just the mounting stress, but the lecture feels like it’s slipping through his fingers.

By the time Professor Lee finishes with the lecture, he has five pages of notes that feel like a jumble of terms and diagrams.

However, just as he thought he might finally catch a break, the slideshow switches to the next slide. 

“Now, let’s discuss the final major lab that will be crucial for your grades,” Professor Lee explains, a determined look on his face. “Your dissections that you will be finishing the year off with. I’m letting you all know about these in advance so you would have plenty of time to prepare.”

Jun’s stomach drops. Dissections. Of course, he knew it was coming, as it was quite literally listed in eye-catching bold letters in the syllabus at the beginning of the term. Yet the thought of cutting into anything and seeing its insides makes him almost squeamish. 

“This will account for a significant portion of your final grade. I can’t stress enough how important it is to take this seriously. Remember that dissections aren’t just about retaining names and locations in the body. They’re about seeing the relationships between different structures and understanding how they function together in real life.”

Every fibre of his being is aching for him to raise his hand and stupidly refute. He imagines what he’d say𑁋“I’m not good with blood,” or “Is there another activity I could do because I’m absolutely scared shitless?”𑁋but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he slouches further in his seat, hoping to disappear. He weighs all of his options, but they’re all equally unappealing: he can’t drop the class, he can’t afford to fail, and he certainly can’t magically become proficient at dissections overnight.

“Since the class has an uneven amount of students and the limited amount of specimens we have, I’ve decided to pair you all up. Y/N, may you hand out the partner lists?”

Jun feels himself tense in his seat as his eyes scan the room and land on you. Not only are you the TA of the class, but your seemingly calm demeanour as you drift throughout the room handing each student paperwork makes you appear almost intimidating to his eyes. 

When you finally reach him, he swears he catches a glimpse of a slight curl to your lips as you silently hand him the slip of paper that contains his partner assignment, before walking down to the next person. 

At first, the paper essentially states the same information that was discussed earlier: the dissection assignment, guidelines, and a list of required materials. But then his gaze falls to the part that matters most: his partner's name.

Y/N L/N, it reads. You’re his partner. Shit.

Your calm, composed attitude and role as the TA have already set a high bar for expectations in his mind. You’re probably going to be hyperanalysing and dissecting every aspect of his class performance, knowing his poor little heart wouldn’t be able to handle all that. You probably already have this tarnished reputation of him in your mind, with his frequent tardiness and the amount of times he’s dozed off in class.

Jun glances around the lecture hall, noticing other students exchanging whispers and glances at their own partner assignments. Some seem relieved, while others look as apprehensive as he feels. His stomach churns with the thought of having to work closely with you.

Professor Lee clears his throat and speaks, “Now that you all know your partners, I request that you all sit next to each other. These will be your seats starting from today and until the lab finishes. I also strongly encourage you all to exchange contact information with each other. Your collaboration together will be vital to your success in this lab.”

As the students shuffle around, Jun finds himself stuck in an uncomfortable limbo, watching as everyone pairs up and settles into their new seats, naturally exchanging contact information with one another. Then he shuffles for his backpack that was leaning against his chair in order to go find where you sit, but as he’s about to stand up, he’s met with you taking a seat right next to him.

Your eyes meet. A faint smile crosses your features. His backpack slips off his shoulders and falls to the floor with a dramatic thump.

“Hi,” You greet him softly, before offering a hand to him. “Granola bar? Had an extra one.”

Jun just blinks, eyes flickering between your face and the hand you have extended out to him. Then he awkwardly clears his throat, tentatively reaching out to grab the granola bar from your grasp, and the warmth emitting from your hand seems to crawl up his neck. 

“Thanks,” he mutters sheepishly, shifting his gaze away to hide a small upturn to the corners of his lips. 

The rest of class passes by in a blur, mainly with Professor Lee going over proper attire to wear and safety protocols for the dissection labs. And when the clock strikes dismissal time, students begin to filter out of the lecture hall, chatting amongst themselves as Jun struggles to stuff his laptop inside his backpack. 

You’re already gone to the front to talk to Professor Lee when Jun looks over. He watches as you hand in what looks like a stack of paper, only to be given another one right back, probably of assignments that the class has done lately. The air of professionalism that surrounds you is quite admirable, he would say. 

You seem to exchange a few more words with Professor Lee before turning on your heel to leave the lecture hall, the stack of papers neatly held under your arm.

By the time Jun is already on his way to his next class, he pulls the granola bar that you had given him out from the pocket of his jeans, unwrapping it and taking a bite out of it, savouring the moment as it relieves his nerves and gnawing hunger. 

Then by the time finishes his last class for the day, reality hits him the second he steps out of the building. Figuratively, and maybe even literally, at this point. 

He forgot to get your number for this lab.

The click of your pen echoes throughout the vast lecture hall. Unintelligible mutters leave your lips as your eyes quickly scan over the papers in front of you with ease. Among the many tasks you have assigned as TA, grading assignments is one of them, and you find yourself marking and correcting each paper just as you’ve done many times before. 

There used to be rumours floating around that your grading style was particularly strict, even more so than Professor Lee. Though it was probably spread around with the intention to intimidate other students and establish your reputation as someone annoyingly meticulous, you hardly let it get to you. 

The truth is, you were fair in your grading, but thorough. You didn’t see the point in letting half-baked work slide, especially when you knew these assignments could determine someone’s future. Medicine has been your passion for as long as you could remember, and that dedication extended into almost everything you did. Being the TA for the class was just one factor of it. 

It’s much, much quieter after school hours when most classes have finished for the day, and it’s natural to bask in the peacefulness that drifts throughout the barren room. You sort out the papers in front of you in a neat stack before taking a moment to stretch your arms up above your head, a soft sigh leaving you at the tension dissipating away from your limbs. 

As you begin to shuffle through all the papers in front of you𑁋separating them into piles of graded assignments and unfinished ones that you’ll save for later on𑁋there’s a quiet knock at the door that makes you pause in place. You turn your head towards the door, anticipating for someone to come in. 

Then another knock.

You swear you see some sort of shadow in the door window. It appears then disappears, and you  roll your eyes, thinking it was just someone who was lost or purposely going around knocking on each door (which has happened way more than one could expect). 

The shadow appears again, and this time, you decide on heading to the door yourself. And as you twist the doorknob and pull the door open simultaneously, you find yourself coming face-to-face with Jun, who looks a bit sheepish as he’s caught mid-knock. His eyes widen upon seeing you right in front of him, and he brings his hand down to his side. 

You blink up at him, not expecting for him to be here at this moment of the day.

“Junhui?” 

It’s at this point of his life that Jun realises he really isn’t used to people calling him by his proper first name. But the way you say it is different𑁋soft and warm, like an unexpected compliment.

“Uh, hi,” he greets a tad bit awkwardly, mentally slapping himself in the face. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” 

“Oh, no, you’re not. Don’t worry,” You tell him reassuringly, catching the way his eyes seem to flicker everywhere but on you. “Is there anything I can help you with?” 

Jun fidgets slightly, his gaze bouncing between the floor and your face. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “Actually, I... um, forgot to get your number earlier today. For… for the lab, I mean. Professor Lee said we should exchange information so I thought I would ask. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at your lips. “Ah, I see. No problem. I’m glad you came by to get it. Here, let me just𑁋”

You shove into your back pocket to retrieve your phone, only to feel that it wasn’t there. Then you glance over to your desk, seeing it sitting next to your abundance of papers, before returning back to Jun.

You shove a hand into your back pocket to retrieve your phone, only to feel that it wasn’t there. Then you glance over to your desk, seeing it sitting next to your abundance of papers, before returning back to Jun.

“Here, you can come in. Let me just get my phone real quick.” You step to the side and open the door wider for him.

Jun visibly hesitates in the doorway, before muttering a quiet thank you and stepping inside the lecture hall. It’s certainly a sight to see the room so stripped of other students besides you and him, the sounds of his footsteps bouncing off the walls. He takes in the stacks of papers that you have spread across your desk, and he feels some nerves snake their way up his spine at the thought of you grading his work.

“Wow, that looks like a lot,” he comments gingerly. 

“Yeah, it’s quite the pile, right?” You agree with a light chuckle as you grab your phone and unlock it. “Always happens near the end of the sem.” 

Jun’s eyes wash over you with a look of concern. “That seems… stressful.”

You just shrug nonchalantly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, it keeps me busy.” 

“Well, you should get some good rest after this then,” he remarks coolly. 

“Wish I could, but I have some tutoring scheduled in about half an hour,” You say, tone warm but tinged with a hint of weariness as you glance at the time on your phone. “One of the students in the intro biology class needs help with some of the basics before their midterm. So… rest will have to wait.”

From that, Jun shifts awkwardly, his fingers playing with the strap of his backpack. His brain races as he considers his options. You’re clearly knowledgeable and dedicated, not to mention you seem approachable, but the thought of admitting how much he’s struggling makes his throat dry, plus the guilt of adding more to your busy plate. 

“Tutoring, huh?” Jun finally says, trying to sound casual. “Is that… something you do a lot?”

You nod, tapping away on your phone as you pull up your contact information. “Yeah, actually. It’s nice to help people out. Keeps me up with the material too. Usually I’m free most days at any time after classes.”

Jun continues to gaze at you wonderingly until after you pick up your head to look at him, to which he faces away immediately. He scratches the back of his neck bashfully, before fixing his posture and clearing his throat.

“Do you… have room for one more student?” Then he feels the immediate regret afterwards. “It’s okay if not. I know that you’re busy and all that𑁋”

“Junhui,” You interrupt gently, a calm smile on your face. “I have room. Don’t worry about it.

He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, the reassuring warmth on your face easing the knots in his stomach. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“I’d be more than happy to find a time that works for us both. Just let me know what you need, and we’ll figure a time out. We’re lab partners, after all,” You say gleefully. “Speaking of which, you can put your number in here.”

You extend an arm with your phone in-hand. Jun takes the phone from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment, and types in his phone number and information. When he hands the phone back, he looks up to meet your eyes, trying to muster a more confident expression.

“Thank you so much, really, I…” His voice trails off for a moment, trying to regain his words. “I’ll owe you one for this, truly.” 

“There’s no need.”

Jun shakes his head. “Seriously, I’ll feel bad.”

You bite at your bottom lip in thought, an endearing look washing over your features as you consider his insistence. The pleading in his eyes is hard to ignore, and it makes your heart soften in your chest. You take a moment to think before offering a small, playful grin.

“Alright.” You cross your arms together. “We’ll see.” 

Perhaps… you aren’t as intimidating as he thinks.

Jun is staring at a sheep brain. 

Not a real one𑁋a picture of one, specifically. It’s apparently very similar to the human brain, and the specimen he’s expected to dissect for the upcoming lab. 

He stares at the image displayed on the large screen right before his eyes, feeling a strange mix of fascination and dread. The detailed structures and labels are overwhelming, each word swimming in and out of focus as he tries to absorb the information. It's not that he isn't interested𑁋on the contrary, there's a part of him that's genuinely curious about how it all works, and the other part of him is utterly disturbed. 

You’re sitting next to him again, just like everyone else is sitting next to their partners, taking notes and even drawing a very rushed outline of the brain on your paper. 

“We have to dissect that…?” Jun whispers under his breath, as if speaking any louder might bring the brain to life. 

“Yep,” You reply, glancing over at Jun. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Jun attempts to stifle a groan, eyes going between the image on the screen and down to his near-empty notes. He can’t help but wonder how on earth he’s going to get through this without completely embarrassing himself.

Letting your eyes roam over Jun for a moment, the visible discomfort in the way he crosses his arms together and the furrow in his brow doesn’t escape your notice. Casually, you scoot your chair towards him a little bit, along with your notebook so that it’s settled in the space between the two of you with the outline of the brain clearly visible on the page. Your shoulder almost brushes against his. 

“Here,” You say softly, tapping your pen on the page. “I’ve got the main structures labeled already. You can add them to your notes if you want. I can explain it to you in more detail when you come to tutoring tomorrow?”

Oh, that’s right. Tomorrow is the day you both were free and decided it was the day where Jun could stop by after classes end to have his first tutoring session with you. 

“Yeah, uh, that would be great,” Jun responds quietly, peeking over at how neat and organised your notes appeared to be. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” You nod, before soundlessly shuffling inside your bag and extending it out to Jun. “Granola bar?” 

Jun glances at the granola bar being offered by you, its wrapper crinkling slightly as you hold it out to him. He smiles, a little lopsided but genuine, and takes the bar from you. The hesitation in his shoulders has deflated slightly than from the first time you proposed one to him. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

“Bro, are you going out on a date or what? You’re stinking up a storm here.” Soonyoung lets out a few dramatic coughs at the sudden sharp scent of Minghao’s perfume hitting his nose, followed by Chan behind him nearly gagging at the smell. Though obviously one would expect for the owner himself to be the one using it, he certainly didn’t expect for the culprit to be none other than Jun.

Okay, yes, he may have accidentally sprayed a shit ton of Minghao’s perfume on himself, which was a bit of an overkill. But he clearly wasn’t thinking straight after waking up from a nap between deciding to take a really quick shower or stealing his roommate’s expensive perfume. 

“You think this is too much?” Jun asks unsurely. 

Beside him, Chan rolls his eyes while clutching a bowl of ramen. “You smell like you’re trying to cover up a crime scene. It might suffocate someone. Where are you even going anyway?”

Jun clears his throat. “Tutoring𑁋”

“Tutoring?!” Soonyoung exclaims in surprise. “For which class?”

“Anatomy𑁋”

“Hell no,” Soonyoung crinkles his nose at the mention of anatomy. “You're telling me you’re getting all dolled up for a tutoring session on dissecting brains and guts? Are you trying to seduce the organs or something?” 

Jun groans at his roommate’s words, shaking his head. But before he can say anything in response, Chan seems to beat him to it.

“Don’t you have this really strict TA in your class too? I’ve heard that they don’t even offer partial credit or crack a smile during lectures. Like, they’re just a machine, dude,” the youngest adds in.

It’s quite literally insane to hear that kind of description about you leave Chan’s mouth when all of his interactions with you have been nothing but short and sweet, to put it simply. Though he won’t deny he’s heard all those rumours spread around about you𑁋that you’re strict, and perhaps a bit intimidating. He’s had his fair share of moments where he felt overwhelmed by your grading and meticulous nature. Yet from what he’s seen of you so far, you’re passionate, friendly if anything, and your smile is… cute. 

Jun only shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, they’re in my class, but I’m just trying to get my grade up before the year ends. I think I can handle them.” 

Soonyoung huffs a breath, stepping up to Jun and giving him some sort of comforting pat on the back, almost like he feels bad for him. 

“Well, good luck, dude,” he reassures him, though it hardly eases Jun’s nerves at all. “Don’t get crucified in there.” 

As Jun wanders down the familiar hallway to the classroom, he finds his thoughts beginning to second-guess everything. What if he ultimately fails meeting your expectation at the end of the session? What if he struggles to fully grasp the material and ends up looking like an absolute fool in front of you by the time the real dissections roll around? 

However, those thoughts are pushed away when the door to the classroom swings open before he has the opportunity to knock, with you standing on the other side. Your face seems to light up at the sight of him, and it makes Jun briefly think about what Soonyoung said earlier about you. Like… was he talking about the same person?

“Hey, you made it,” You greet him, stepping aside so he could walk in. “Let me just finish organising some things and we can start.” 

Jun’s eyelashes bat together in curiosity as he watches you rummage through some papers, before deciding it's worth sitting down to wait for you. He places himself down an empty desk, fishing out his notebook and laptop and whatever he may need, though he doesn’t really know. By the time you’re making your way over to him, you set your stuff right next to his. 

“Okay.” You let out a relieved breath, peering at him. “Where do you want to start?” 

Oh, he hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet.

“Uh,” Jun stammers, fumbling for a moment, his mind suddenly drawing blanks. He quickly opens his notebook to the page where he had jotted down some half-baked notes during class and is staring back at him like a puzzle missing half its pieces. “Maybe… maybe we can start with what we’re going over in class right now? And just go down from there?”

“We can do that,” You agree without hesitation, leaning in more so that you were able to see his notes. Jun draws himself slightly back. “So, as you know, we’re going to have to be familiar with the parts and functions of the brain since it’s also part of the dissections. What I like to do is break it down into smaller sections and tackle each one individually. It might make the whole thing less overwhelming.”

Jun just nods, appreciating the way you’re making things more approachable. 

You grab a blank sheet of paper and draw a quick, simple outline of the brain, labeling the major parts with clear, concise notes. “Let’s go over the basics𑁋the cerebrum, cerebellum, and brainstem. These are the main regions we need to understand before diving into all the nitty-gritty details. Is that okay?”

He nods again, moving back slightly closer so he can see what you’re drawing. 

“The cerebrum is the largest part of the brain and is responsible for higher brain functions like thinking, reasoning, and sensory processing,” You continue, pointing to the relevant part of your drawing. “It’s divided into the left and right hemispheres, and each one controls the opposite side of the body.”

Jun watches as you explain, occasionally nodding to show he’s following along. There’s something calming about the way you speak𑁋gentle, but confident, filled with poise. He tries to shake off the thought, reminding himself that he’s here to study, not to admire the way your eyes light up when you speak so passionately about a topic as ridiculous and complex as the damn brain. 

You’re so different from what people say. There’s no sign of the strict, no-nonsense TA everyone talks about. 

“...and that’s why the frontal lobe is so important for decision-making and problem-solving. I like comparing it to, let’s say, a CEO,” You explain. “It’s where a lot of our executive functions happen. Think of it as the brain’s ‘boss’ making the big decisions and planning.”

Jun blinks for a moment, snapping back to attention, quickly jotting down a note to make it seem like he was paying attention. He actually was, sort of. Somehow he’s lucky enough for you to not notice him being distracted (or you do, and he’s the one who didn’t notice). 

“Frontal lobe, right,” he mutters lowly, under his breath.

“The cerebellum is our little assistant to the CEO. It’s responsible for our movement, coordination, and balance,” You say, pointing to a spot on the sketch at the very back of the brain and above the brainstem. “Think of it as the brain’s quality control. It just makes sure that whatever movements we do are smooth and precise, so…” 

Nope. He still can’t detect those rumours that paint you as some sort of cold, calculated, and harsh TA. He spots not a single one of those in your demeanour. Briefly, he wonders whether or not those rumours bother you, if they’ve ever bothered you or made you feel misunderstood. Swiftly, though, he brushes those thoughts away𑁋he’s more focused on you than the material at hand. 

It’s hard not to look at you, in all honesty. 

“Junhui?” Your voice pulls him back to reality.

“Huh?” he responds, a little too quickly.

You tilt your head slightly, a small, knowing smile on your lips. “I asked if you’re ready to move on to the brainstem, or do you want to go over the cerebellum again?”

“Oh, um… no, I’m good,” he says, feeling his face heat up slightly. He hopes you don’t notice how flustered he is. “Let’s move on.”

You nod, satisfied with his answer, and continue your explanation, turning your attention to the next section of the brain. 

“The brainstem,” You begin, pointing to an area at the bottom of the brain with the pencil. “is like the brain's relay station. It connects the brain to the spinal cord and controls many of the body’s automatic functions, like breathing, heart rate, and digestion. Without it, our bodies wouldn't be able to function properly…”

Jun observes as you draw a line down the sketch, clearly marking the brainstem. He’s listening, or at least trying to, but his mind keeps drifting back to how comfortable this whole situation feels. He expected to be a nervous wreck, fumbling through explanations and possibly embarrassing himself in front of you. But instead, he finds himself oddly at ease, more focused on how you’re able to break down the complex information into something so much more digestible.

“Still with me?” You ask suddenly, looking up from your notes to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Jun answers unsurely, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. He offers a small smile, hoping it masks his earlier distraction.

A flicker of amusement flashes in your eyes, and there’s a warmth in your expression that puts Jun further at ease. “Okay, great. We can continue then.”

The rest of the session goes by surprisingly rather quickly. You guide Jun through the material, your explanations helping Jun absorb the information more effectively than the regular in-class lectures. It makes him think about how great you would be as a professor, or anything in the medical field. Everything just seems to flow out of you seamlessly as you discuss various brain functions and their relevance to anatomy and dissections.

As Jun is finishing up the last of some notes, you ask, “Would you mind if I write you a little sticky note? To tell you what to look over when you’re reviewing on your own?” 

Jun looks up, a bit surprised but grateful. “That would be good, thank you.” 

You stand up to retrieve a sticky note from Professor’s Lee desk, before returning back to Jun and writing down: 

Review over neuroanatomy and its functions! •ᴗ•  

Finally, you plaster the sticky note at the corner of the page in his notebook. 

There’s a comfortable silence that follows as you both gather your belongings. It feels like a small victory for Jun𑁋he not only survived the session but actually, in a way, enjoyed it.

As you both stand up, ready to leave, you glance over at him.

“By the way, I don’t think you need all that perfume on,” You say, a hint of laughter in your voice.

Jun’s eyes widen, caught off-guard. Shit. “Oh, uh𑁋yeah, that…”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just… a little overwhelming. Maybe tone it down next time?”

Jun’s face flushes as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, I uh… was rushing and just grabbed what I could find. I didn’t mean to overdo it.”

“You’re all good,” You reassure him, still smiling as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Just a little heads-up. So, anyway, for the next session…”

Next session? His jaw nearly drops to the floor at your casual mention of a next session. 

“...I think I’ll try and set up a little lesson plan we can reference off of… probably review over the cardiovascular system…”

“You… You don’t have to do all that,” Jun interjects. “It sounds like a lot of work.” 

You dismiss him off with a reassuring wave. “It’s no trouble. I think it’ll help to have a structured plan for us to follow. It’ll make sure we cover everything orderly.” 

Jun zips his mouth shut and just nods in agreement, unable to hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, biting it back when he hangs his head down to the ground. When he perks back up, he finds you over at Professor Lee’s desk, sorting through some papers before organising the stack and preparing to finally leave. He opens his mouth, but the words he wanted to say stick to his tongue.

“I’ll see you later?” Jun calls out to you instead, his voice bouncing off the walls of the lecture hall. 

You glance up at him in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you later, Junhui.”

He takes a visible gulp.

“Jun,” he suddenly says, saying it as if he were correcting you, which in a way, he is, but it comes out a bit awkwardly. “You can call me just Jun, if you’d like.” 

A wave of surprise washes over your features, before ultimately fading into a pleasant smile.

“Alright, Just Jun,” You reply, tilting your head slightly. “I’ll see you later.” 

One could probably say you’re a party pooper. Not necessarily intentionally, but instead of filling up your college experience with going to parties and social events, you find yourself buried within pages of textbooks. Your weekends aren’t filled with the chaoticness of drinking and loosening up; rather, they consist of quiet study sessions in your room and creating new lecture material.

You’re not avoiding fun𑁋at least, that’s what you always tell yourself𑁋you’re just focused on achieving your academic goals.

It’s a routine carved ever since you were younger, your parents constantly instilling that education is the key to success, and you’ve taken that message to heart. From an early age, you learned to prioritise your studies over everything else. As you grew older, you carried that mindset with you, where you’ve become known among your peers as the diligent, dependable student and TA who always has their priorities straight.

Your schedule is precise, your assignments are always turned in on time, always prepared for every quiz and exam, and your grades reflect the countless hours you’ve spent studying. It’s a reputation you’re proud of, but it also comes with a certain level of pressure𑁋pressure to maintain those high standards, to never let yourself slip.

You sit back in the seat, satisfied after crafting a proper lesson plan and organising your materials for your next tutoring session. When you glance over at your planner to see who was coming in today, the name that you spot is𑁋

Knock. 

You glance up from your planner and over to the door. “Come in!”

It takes a few moments for the door to swing in, and the tall figure that steps through is unmistakable𑁋light brown hair slightly fluffed out, a half-opened black backpack hanging on his shoulders, and an oversized hoodie that appeared way more comfortable than it needed to be.

“Jun?” You look at the time on your phone. “You’re here early.” 

“Oh, yeah…” Jun runs a hand through his tousled hair. “I thought showing up early could give us some extra time, maybe. Unless… unless you’re still busy?” 

You shake your head. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. Just give me a few minutes and then we can start?”

“Yeah. Take all the time that you need.” 

Once again, it’s only the two of you in the lecture hall. He ponders if you’ve tutored any students before him today, hovering near you as he watches you sort through some papers and adjust your notes. The room is quiet except for the faint rustle of papers and the soft hum of the air conditioning. Jun can sense his curiosity growing within him, making him fidget with the strap of his backpack. 

“So, uh… how long have you been a TA for Professor Lee?” 

You pick your head up from your papers, fingers resting at the edge of the desk. 

“Since the beginning of the year,” You reply. “I got recommended to him by some previous professors, and I guess I couldn’t say no to the opportunity.”

Jun nods slowly, thoughtfully. “Do you like it? Being a TA, I mean.”

You consider his question for a moment, feeling a bit reflective as you answer, “I do, actually. It’s hard but rewarding, you know? I get to help students understand the material better, and I learn a lot in the process too. It’s a good balance between teaching and learning, I would say.”

Jun takes in your words attentively, peeking his eyes toward you with an almost shy smile. There’s a quiet admiration in the way he looks at you that you don’t notice, as if he’s trying to understand how you manage to keep everything together so well. Then a moment of silence fills the space between you two, not uncomfortable, maybe a bit awkward on his end, but more contemplative.

Jun shifts this abominable weight pressing down on him from one foot to the other. He’s not used to being in situations like this𑁋alone with someone who seems so put together, so sure of themselves. It’s both inspiring and a little intimidating. The silence seems to stretch, and you can see the gears turning in his head, like he’s on the verge of saying something but can’t quite find the right words.

“I guess I wonder how you manage it all so well,” he remarks timidly. “You’re always so organised and… on top of things. I’m curious how you do it.”

You purse your lips together into a thin line and simply shrug your shoulders. “I’ve always had high expectations for myself growing up and I guess it’s carried into everything I do now. It’s become second nature, really.” 

As Jun takes in your words, that sense of admiration seems to soften into a bit of worry. It’s amazing that you could handle so many responsibilities at once, but the more he thinks about it, the more it seems like a lot of stress and pressure to manage. He wonders if you ever feel overwhelmed or if it ever gets too much to handle at times. 

You probably do𑁋you’re human, after all𑁋and a twinge of concern snakes up his spine as he thinks about.

“Anyway, hm… I was thinking about going over the cardiovascular system for this session. What do you say?” You ask him.

Jun snaps out of his thoughts, walking briskly over towards the desk to take a seat. “Oh, yeah. That sounds good.” 

The session is just similar to last time: you begin by outlining the cardiovascular system, breaking it down into different sections just as you did with the brain, and using relatable analogies with associating each part with their functions.

“...so the heart has four chambers: the left and right atria plus the left and right ventricles,” You explain, pointing down to the drawing you made with the tip of your pencil. “The right side deals with deoxygenated blood, while the left side handles oxygenated blood. The heart’s valves make sure that blood flows in the correct direction. Think of it like… traffic signals.”

“Traffic signals…” Jun mutters to himself as he writes down notes. Knowing that this is all going on within his own body wraps around his mind uncomfortably.

As you continue explaining, there’s that light again that Jun detects in your eyes, as well as the subtle lift to your lips that makes your voice just a step higher. His gaze also follows your hands that you unknowingly maneuver when you talk, the movements graceful and expressive, like you’re bringing the material to life.

“Are you familiar with where all your pulse points are?” 

Jun lifts a brow, thinking for a second, before taking a finger down to his wrist. “I think so. There’s one here… on the wrist…”

“The radial artery.”

“Radial artery. Yeah.” Then he drags the tip of his finger up to his inner elbow. “There’s also one here. The brachial artery, right?”

“You got it.” 

He grins bashfully at that, though it’s quick to fade when he focuses again, pointing down to his leg. “There’s also two here. Femoral and… pop… Popliteal?”

“You’re right,” You confirm wholeheartedly, and Jun’s heart flutters in small victory. 

Jun then brings his hand back up, using two fingers to point to a spot on his neck. 

“And, uh… The one here on the neck. It’s…” He continues pressing down into his skin to find where he can feel his pulse, but your eyes on him is causing him to feel a bit self-conscious. “Uh…”

“The carotid artery. Right here.”

Before Jun has a chance to correct himself, you’re suddenly scooting closer to him in your chair, leaning in and extending an arm out towards him. The sudden contact of your fingers on the side of his neck makes his eyes widen and his breath to hitch. 

Your fingers rest gently on the side of his neck, just below his jawline, and for a brief moment, the world outside of the lecture hall seems to disappear. The visible swallow of his Adam’s apple isn’t hard to miss as he tries to focus on anything but the sensation of your hand on his neck.

Heat washes over his face, and he swears to himself that you could most definitely feel the way his pulse is running marathons under your touch. All of a sudden his tongue goes dry, his limbs go numb, and the way you’re so close to him makes it hard for him to properly think straight, let alone form any sort of coherent response.

Your eyes meet for a singular millisecond, too quick that Jun could have possibly been imagining it.

Pulling your hand away, you clear your throat soundly. “Try it.”

It takes Jun a moment to register you were talking to him, and he tentatively replaces the spot where your fingers were at with his own.

“Right here?” he asks.

“Mhm.” Your gaze roams over his concentrated face. “Apply a bit of pressure. That’s the carotid artery doing its work.” 

His pulse is certainly fast. The thought has him sinking into a pit of embarrassment. 

But he only nods, keeping his voice steady as he says, “Yeah, I feel it.”

“So whenever you want to count your heart rate, this is one of the places you can check,” You instruct. “You can just press down on that spot and count the number of beats you feel in 15 seconds. Then, multiply that number by four, and you’ll have your heart rate in beats per minute.”

Jun attempts to listen to his heart rate, but the attentive look you have on your face as you watch him makes it really hard to properly count. So he chooses to let his hand fall back down. He wouldn’t be able to calculate it with you here with him anyway. 

When the two of you meet eyes for the nth time, there’s a fleeting, almost electric moment of mutual awareness. None of you acknowledge it, yet it awkwardly lingers in the air. Warmth spreads across Jun’s chest, coupled with a nervous energy that makes his heart beat soar just a little faster.

You break the tension with an airy chuckle. “Are you ready to move on?” 

Jun blinks a few times, shaking off whatever awkwardness swirling around him, and nods quickly. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

By the time he gets back to his apartment later that evening and begins to unpack his things from his backpack, a small piece of pink paper flutters down to the floor like a feather, landing by his foot. It’s a sticky note, reading:

Good sesh today •ᴗ• Don’t forget to review!

“There’s no way I’m touching a brain.”

“Jun, you have to! You’ll be wearing gloves anyway𑁋”

“I cannot cut into a brain. That is gross,” Jun rebukes defensively, face scrunching up with stubborn refusal. 

“Jun, dissections are really important for anatomy,” You clarify calmly. “It’s part of the learning process.”

“Yeah, I… I know,” he mumbles defeatedly, almost shameful to admit. “I’m not that good with, uh… dead things. Like, couldn’t we look at diagrams or pictures instead? They’re less… squishy.” 

You smile amusedly at that, finding his squeamishness a bit endearing. But you straighten your posture and plaster on a reassuring look to your face. 

“I understand that it’s not for everyone,” You respond, a comforting tone to your voice. “But getting hands-on experience is really valuable. It’s one thing to see it in a book, but actually being able to identify the structures in real life makes a big difference in how you understand the material.”

Jun still looks apprehensive, but your words bring a sparkle of determination to his eyes. The idea of cutting into something that used to be alive still makes his stomach turn and the hairs on the back of his neck stick up, but he knows that you’re right. When are you not right?

“It just feels illegal,” Jun admits uneasily, a shudder running through him at the thought. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“That’s what I’m here for, remember?” You lightly nudge him in the arm with your elbow, attempting to lighten the mood. “We’re partners, after all.”

“Yeah, but…” There’s some hesitation, his gaze dropping down to his shoes. He lowers his voice as he speaks, “I want to show you that I’m capable of doing something…”

“Then we’ll start off slow, make you become familiar with everything,” You reason gently. “I know you’re not the only one who feels queasy by it, but you’ll have to face it. Facing your fears can help in conquering them, you know.” 

The corners of Jun’s lips tug up at that, mainly from the fact that you’re able to reassure him this effortlessly. He can’t tell if it’s exactly your words that eases up his nerves or if it’s simply your presence here with him right now thawing away the ice of his fears. Whatever it is, all he can really say is he likes knowing that you genuinely care.

And he likes knowing that you’re right next to him too.

“If I freak out,” he starts. “You’ll promise to help me out?”

Your lips draw into a thin line, a certain playfulness softening the features of your face. 

“No promises, but𑁋”

“Hey!”

“Study what we discussed today and then I’ll consider it.” There’s still a twinge of tease to your words, but the edges are roughened with a touch of sincerity. 

Jun just grins. How could anyone ever make up ridiculous rumours about you?

“Good game, man. Same time again next Saturday?”

Jun huffs out a winded breath, dabbing at the sweat that clings to his forehead with the edge of his shirt before taking a long chug out of the water bottle that Wonwoo tosses over to him. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you then,” he replies exhaustedly, taking another tip of water, feeling his muscles aching from the game. 

As his friends leave the basketball court, he starts to retrieve his own belongings, slinging his backpack and hoodie over his shoulder and starting his walk towards the bus stop so he could go back home. The sun has completely set at this point, the night sky now blanketing the city in a cool, comfortable darkness. The breeze that floats through the air relieves some of the tension in his body, cooling his skin after the intense game. Jun walks slowly, taking his time on the way to the bus stop, simply savouring the peacefulness of the evening.

He considers getting food for himself𑁋there’s a small convenience store that he spots at the corner of his eye, and his stomach rumbles at the thought. 

He changes direction and heads toward the store, the faint jingling of the door chime greeting him as he steps inside. The store is a cozy, cluttered space with a mix of snacks, drinks, and other essentials. He decides on grabbing a cold drink and some instant ramen that he can heat up when he gets home. And after purchasing, he heads back outside and continues his way to the bus stop.

Tapping his bus card on the scanner, Jun makes his way toward the back of the bus and settles into a seat closest to the window, the seat right next to him vacant. The bus was mostly empty, but everyone else was spread out in their own seats either dozing off, listening to music, or staring out the window. It’s quite nice, he must say.

The sounds of him crumpling his bag fills the still air of the bus as he waits for the bus to move, but the hissing of the doors opening perks his attention up. 

Out of all things, he certainly never expected to see the sight of you breathlessly climbing onto the bus, muttering apologies towards the bus driver as you scramble for your bus card in your wallet. Your backpack is about to slip off your shoulder, cheeks flushed from assuming all the running you did to get here, and a mask of tiredness that you wear on your face that isn’t hard to notice. Were you at campus? It’s almost ten at night. 

And out of all things, he didn’t expect for you to come over to him among the many empty seats in the bus. 

“Hey,” You greet him breathlessly, glancing down at the empty seat next to him. “Are you fine with me sitting here?” 

Jun blinks, before speedily adjusting himself, forcing his body more into the seat so you would have all the room that you wanted. He gives you a nod. 

Smiling faintly, you sit down right next to him, shoulder brushing against his. You settle your backpack on your lap and lean back a bit, finally allowing yourself to relax. The bus lurches, beginning to move forward. Jun lets his eyes wash over you.

“Did… you just come from campus?” he asks. 

You laugh awkwardly at that. “Yeah, I… I was studying.”

“You study this late at night on campus?”

“I do.” It’s a bit funny admitting that, you don’t know why. “Sorta lost track of time, I guess.” 

Jun keeps a fixed look on you, as if there was some anomaly within your words, but he knows you’re telling the truth. He just can’t believe that anyone would stay on campus so late, plus you look way too tired, like you could pass out any second. Some worry flows down his body. 

“That sounds… exhausting,” he says, concern edging his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

You glance at him, eyes softening slightly. There’s something about him asking that tugs at your heart. “I’m fine. It’s not unusual for me to be up late studying. I’m used to it.”

Jun feels his fingers twitch around the bag in his grasp. “I see.”

You let your head fall slightly. “Thank you though.”

He faces you curiously. “For what?”

“Just…” For being here? For asking if I’m okay? “I don’t know. Thank you.”

He doesn’t know why you’re thanking him; if anything he should be the one thanking you.

“Oh.” A small smile appears on his lips. “You’re welcome.”

He feels weird. Not in a bad sense𑁋far from that, actually. It’s basically his first time ever interacting with you that isn’t on school grounds, and in a way right now, he isn’t the student and you’re not the TA. He’s simply Jun, and you are… well, you. You’re just two people sharing a late bus ride, and Jun is oddly grateful for the chance to see this side of you𑁋tired, a little vulnerable, but still yourself nonetheless.

The bus rumbles lightly. Silence swirling the air around the two of you. Jun glances at your profile, noticing how your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before snapping open again. His fingers twitch again, wanting to do something more𑁋maybe offer you his jacket, or ask if you need anything𑁋but he holds himself back.

The thought of pushing himself to exhaustion like that feels foreign. But he knows you well enough𑁋or at least, he’s seen you enough𑁋to know you’re driven, always working hard, sometimes too hard. He doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s okay to slow down.

“Y/N?” he calls out quietly.

You face him with a cute, sleepy look. “Hm?”

“You’re falling asleep.”

You giggle lazily at that, the sound unguarded and relaxed. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You can close your eyes. When’s your stop?”

Gazing at the window for a few moments, you take note of the familiar surroundings that the bus passes by. “It should be the next one.” 

Before you can settle back into the seat, Jun quickly adds, suddenly feeling brave, “You can… lean on my shoulder if you want.”

You hesitate for a moment, then give him a drowsy, grateful smile. “I think I’d like that.”

With a sigh, you allow your head to rest against his shoulder, and Jun could only imagine how uncomfortable his own shoulder might be compared to a pillow, but he doesn’t mind, and neither do you as well𑁋at least he thinks you don’t.

Your eyes are closed when Jun leans down to sneak a glance at your face, your features softened with exhaustion. There’s the faintest sight of a smile to your lips, and it makes his own curve up slightly too. His heart stirs in his chest, all while attempting to fully compose himself so you wouldn’t be disturbed. 

As his eyes drift back outside, he leans his own head on the window, watching the cityscape pass by. There’s fatigue crawling up his body too, but he forces himself to stay awake so that he knows when your stop is approaching. He casts glimpses down to you to make sure you’re still comfortable, but every time he looks at you, his heart seems to do a little jump, a little flutter in his chest. 

Jun knows he shouldn’t hope for anything more than this moment, knows he shouldn’t let himself fall into dreams of what-ifs, but he can’t help it. Admitting to himself that he likes you is bizarre, almost too bold for him to fully accept. Yet here you are, leaning against him, breathing softly in your dazed state as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

And maybe, just maybe, he thinks, it could be.

You could tell there was something off about Jun today, and it seems to bother you a little more than you expect. 

He just didn’t seem to be… paying attention. You would explain something to him, and he’d reply with a small hum of acknowledgment before drifting off into a bit of a daydreaming state. Perhaps his mind was clouded and it wasn’t your place to ask, or maybe he was just tired. Regardless, you knew that it wouldn’t get either of you progress through this tutoring session, especially when you’re trying to instruct him about what to expect for the dissections.

“Jun?” You snap your finger in front of his face, and he immediately perks up. “You got all that down?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, the probe…” He trails off, looking a bit lost. “Uh, can you repeat it?”

“The probe is used to explore and identify different anatomical structures,” You explain slowly. “But remember to be careful with it. Tissues are very delicate, so one wrong move could cause damage.” 

You watch quietly as he writes down the notes, his head resting on his as if he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

“I saw you fall asleep today in class.”

Jun looks back up at you, eyes widening as if what he had done was some sort of crime. He suddenly appears more awake than ever.

“Crap, I… I’m sorry,” he mutters in apology, face flushing with embarrassment. “I knew you were lecturing since Professor Lee wasn’t here today, but I just… I don’t know. I couldn’t keep my eyes open that well. I’m really sorry.”

He could only assume the worst𑁋that you’re mad at him for falling asleep, when in reality he had stayed up late the night before to review over the material the two of you have covered so far during your sessions. But when your face softens into a look of understanding, he seems to relax. Just slightly. 

“Jun, it’s fine, really. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” You reassure him gently. “Trust me, you’re not in trouble and I’m not mad.”

He swallows down the lump in your throat. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Like really sure?”

“One thousand percent.”

“I’m not convinced.” A sly grin spreads across Jun’s face. What a dork.

“Unfunny,” You huff, before taking a seat right next to him and flipping through the pages in your lesson plan. 

Once again, Jun props an elbow on the table and leans his head on his hand, a playful smirk lingering on his face as he watches you. You feel his eyes on you. 

“It sort of gave me a little glimpse into your life, you know.” 

You glance up, intrigued. “Yeah? And what did you take from that?”

“That… I really cannot and will never be on your level of studying,” Jun admits sheepishly. He seems to crawl into himself a bit more as he continues hesitantly, “and, uh, made me admire you a little bit more too.”

You freeze at that, pausing mid-flipping through a page in your planner as his words float through the air. Admire… you? It wasn’t something you ever anticipated hearing from him𑁋ever anticipated to see him this forward𑁋especially not today when he seemed so out of it.

You clear your throat softly, trying to act nonchalant. “You admire me?”

Jun chuckles softly, the sound a little awkward as he tries to ease the tension. “Well, who wouldn’t?”

He’s probably digging himself into a bit of a hole right now, perhaps overstepping a small boundary of what was supposed to be just a casual tutoring session. But really, despite these sessions honestly really helping with understanding the material, he’s mainly here because… well… he gets to spend time with you. 

“Sorry, I-I mean… I made this weird, didn’t I?” Jun swiftly corrects himself, face flushing deeper with each word that leaves him. “I guess I just want to thank you for pushing me to do better. I’ve always… kind of admired that about you for a while now.”

Even you momentarily forget what you wanted to discuss with him for the session, a surge of warmth shooting through your body. The only sounds you could hear right now are the branches outside hitting the window from the wind and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The room was quiet, filled with an awkward, yet comfortable tension that neither of you seemed to know how to break.

“I’m glad to hear that,” You tell him. “It means a lot that you feel that way.” 

Relief and apprehension hugs around Jun, as if unsure whether he should say anything more or go back to tutoring. But he thinks he’s already said enough𑁋at this point his tired brain nearly made him confess his feelings, and that would be utterly stupid of him. 

“But you should really learn how to rest,” he suddenly says firmly.

You laugh that off way too easily. “You know that I can’t𑁋”

“I know, but… come on, just rest for a little bit,” Jun insists. “At least for a few minutes.”

“You’re seriously telling me to rest while I’m here to tutor you?” You lift a brow, almost teasingly.

The way he only nods and gazes at you with pleading eyes almost resembling a cat stretching out for attention makes it almost impossible to resist. And you would hate to admit that yeah, maybe you do push yourself way too much, that all the strenuous effort you put into studying is now starting to take a noticeable toll on you. At the moment, rest does sound really nice.

“My friends and I are planning a hangout this weekend at my place, if you’d like to join us. You… You don’t have to if you don’t want to, or if you’re not into that kind of stuff,” Jun informs you sheepishly. “It’s not a lot of us too, but if you ever want to just… unwind, you know, you could stop by. We aren’t doing anything too wild, just a chill get-together. They’re all cool, I swear.”

You consider his offer. Again, you were never much of a party person nor ever gave a crap about that sort of stuff, but the thought of taking a break from your routine is a bit... enticing, to say the least.

“I’ll think about it. Thank you,” You say with a grateful smile, finally giving in. “Give me a few minutes to tidy up?”

Jun watches for a few moments as you quickly organise through your notes and gather up the loose papers that have accumulated on the table, standing up and heading to the front of the lecture hall to put away the rest of the materials that you won’t need for the session. 

As he waits for you to finish, Jun sets aside his own stuff, folds his arms and places them on the table, slowly guiding his head to rest on top. He closes his eyes, taking advantage of the opportunity to rest as much as his body craves.

By the time you get back, you catch a glimpse of Jun’s relaxed form in his seat, and your heart does a little flip in your chest. The corners of your lips tug up unknowingly into a soft smile as you settle into the seat cautiously next to him, feeling a wave of exhaustion hitting you all at once.

It’s rare that you let yourself go these days, but with Jun here, it seems easier to let your guard down, even for just a few minutes. 

Without much thought you let your head rest gently on your own arms, finding yourself staring at the front lecture hall, before ultimately, moving your head so that you were facing Jun. You’ve never seen him this close before, drawn into his features for a moment or two𑁋over his closed eyes and the small moles that pepper his cheek and one particular spot above his lips, which were curled up slightly. Contentment warms you like a blanket as you let your eyes drift to a close.

Unbeknownst to you, Jun slowly peeks his eyes open, being met with the sight of you resting so peacefully and comfortably beside him. A sense of calm takes over the vast lecture hall as he simply watches you, even feeling brave enough to lightly brush a strand of hair away from your face with his finger, before quickly pulling back when he catches your nose scrunching a little in your sleep. His heart swells even more.

He decides on settling back into his own arms, taking one last glance at you before drifting back into light sleep. 

“You’re way too smiley to be going to a tutoring session,” Chan points out as he catches Jun about to leave. “Isn’t it like your third time alone this week? Last week you went twice…”

Jun snorts annoyedly at that. “Yeah, and?”

“We’re just saying you’re way too happy to be going to tutoring, man,” Soonyoung continues on, an edge of suspicion to his words. “Did you find out the meaning of life? Figure out why our bodies cause us to shit and piss or why the earth goes around the sun?”

“I’d be happy to answer that question if you’re curious,” Jun states wryly. 

Soonyoung scrunches his face and shakes his head. “Please don’t.” 

His roommate only observes as Jun stuffs his feet into his Converse, which looked to be at the end of its life. Minghao comes out moments later, toothbrush in his mouth with bits of foam to the corners of his lips. Along with Soonyoung and Chan, the three of them watch as Jun finishes lacing up his shoes, his good mood unwavering.

“I think I have an answer to that question,” Minghao says, voice somewhat muffled.

Soonyoung faces the younger boy. “The piss or the earth one?”

“He has a crush,” Minghao states flatly, a subtle smirk creeping onto his face despite the toothbrush still dangling from his lips.

“A crush?” Soonyoung’s eyes widen as he exchanges a glance with Chan, the two of them looking like they were about to combust any second. “A crush on that scary TA?”

“They’re not scary!” Jun protests, face reddening hearing his own loud voice, secretly hoping to make some sort of quick escape before his friends could pry any further into his dry love life, but he knows he won’t be able to get them off his ass. “So what if I have a crush on them?”

Soonyoung’s jaw drops to the floor at that, before bursting into laughter. “‘So what’? You’re totally into them!” He starts bouncing on his toes, a grin stretching across his face. “You’re in loooove with the scary TA! This is gold.”

Jun could seriously strangle all of his roommates right now. He runs a hand through his hair and glances at the door, regretting opening his mouth. Was he seriously that obvious? “You guys are blowing this way out of proportion.” 

“Bro, you’re blushing so hard right now,” Chan chimes in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

Minghao chuckles, finally pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth. “It’s obvious. You don’t study like that for just anyone.”

Jun’s face turns an even deeper shade of red. “I𑁋okay, fine! Maybe I like them a little bit, but it’s not a big deal! I’m just trying to do well in class. Now, can I leave?” 

It takes one last torturous minute of teasing before Jun shoots his roommates with annoyed looks and heads out of the apartment.

Normally at nine o’clock, you would most likely be in the campus library studying until your eyes go dry, or in your own place with textbooks sprawled over your bed. But this time, you find yourself right in front of the address Jun sent you𑁋his address, specifically.

You’d spent the past few days thinking about his invitation, and despite some initial hesitation, you may be looking forward to this little break from your routine. Because according to Jun from a text he sent you the night before along with the address: it’s what you deserve.

Your heart still does a little jump when you think about it still.

[09:08 | y/n] Hey Jun! I’m here by the way

Your phone vibrates right away.

[09:09 | just jun] WHAT omg

[09:09 | just jun] sorry i’m coming out right now!!!

There’s a figure that emerges from a door, waving to you from above. You give out a small wave as you start to make yourself comfortable on the front steps of the building. Jun hurries down the stairs, looking both relieved and a bit flustered as he reaches you.

“Hey, I…” His eyes roam over you from head-to-toe. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.” 

You offer a tentative smile. “Well, I figured, you know? Thought it would be nice to stop by for a little bit. Plus you live closer than I thought.”

Jun’s face brightens, the relief in his own grin oozing its way into your heart, and he gestures for you to follow him back to his place.

Just as he promised, the gathering was quite small. Jun introduces you to his roommates𑁋Minghao, Soonyoung, and Chan are their names (Soonyoung and Chan look oddly more excited to see you, for some reason)𑁋and two others in his year. You recognise Wonwoo, who is a TA from the English department, and the other is Jihoon, whose name had been tossed around quite frequently during your time in university.

Overall, the vibes have been quite laid-back, and the apartment has been warm and inviting so far.

“Do you want something to drink?” Jun asks as he leads you towards the kitchen, where some food and snacks were sprawled across the counter. “There’s water, soda, and um… some alcohol too.”

Your eyes roam over the assortment on the counter, gaze lingering on the bottles of alcohol. For some reason the idea of relaxing and letting loose feels particularly appealing tonight, and you can hardly remember the last time you had a proper drink of… anything. 

“I’ll take some alcohol,” You answer, suddenly feeling a bit adventurous; it even surprises Jun. 

Jun pulls one of the bottles and pours you a generous amount before handing it to you, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours as you find yourself settling down in a seat near Wonwoo and Jihoon. 

Soonyoung and Chan come into view a few minutes later, and they’re still looking at you as if you’ve come in with a second head.

“You’re not scary,” Chan claims randomly, scanning you up and down with his eyes closely.

You lift a brow and look behind you, thinking he was talking to someone, before turning back to him. 

“Me?” You point to yourself. “Scary?” 

Soonyoung takes a sip of his own drink before saying, “Yeah, dude, I mean… There used to be a lot of rumours spread about you being like, mean and stuff, you know? I’m talking about people saying you were super strict, always serious, and that if anyone messed up in class, you’d roast them alive.”

You almost want to laugh at that. Sure, you’ve heard plenty of those rumours before and never really let it get to you, or had the time to straight up dismiss them, but you didn’t think people were still clinging onto those thoughts nowadays. 

“Did you expect me to show up with devil horns and a pitchfork?" You joke, finally allowing yourself to laugh, shaking your cup in amusement. “Wow, I didn’t realise I was so terrifying. Maybe I should start living up to it now.”

Soonyoung lets out a hearty laugh, almost choking on his drink. “Please, no! We’re all just barely surviving as it is.”

“Nah, you’re good as you are. If anything I’m glad to see that the stuff people have said aren’t true,” Chan adds in.

An exaggerated gasp leaves Soonyoung. “Oh my, God, wait! Does this mean we’re friends now?” His excitement is so over-the-top that you can’t help but laugh too. 

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You tease with a faint smirk, shrugging. “If you behave.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Soonyoung declares, grinning ear to ear as Chan gives him an enthusiastic high five. His face is already turning the slightest bit of red from the alcohol. “Jun, you’re in good hands!”

In the kitchen, you catch Jun gazing over his shoulder and towards his friends. And when his eyes land on you, he shoots you a brief smile before quickly taking his eyes away, but the tips of his ears being red doesn’t go unnoticed when he turns away.

As the night continues, you find yourself letting loose, more than you’ve ever done recently. You find yourself easily getting along with the lively atmosphere of Jun and all of his friends. You don’t really know how many drinks you’ve taken at this point in time, how many refills you’ve been offered, but the buzz you feel is pleasant and warm, your inhibitions slowly but surely melting away. Laughter tumbles out of you as if it was the most natural thing in the world, almost to the point you feel your chest physically ache.

Occasionally, from the side, Jun quietly watches you. He can feel his own mood lifting with every smile that finds its way on your face. It’s almost as if he’s looking at a completely different person𑁋someone entirely the opposite from the studious TA he’s been used to this entire time.

But the second he sees you stumble slightly when you come out from a bathroom break, a pang of worry hits him.

“You okay?” he asks you when you nearly run into him, making him circle his arms around you out of habit in case you might fall. However, you’re somehow so close to him that he can feel the warmth of you through his clothes. Your cheeks are flushed, and you’re grinning lazily up at him, the effects of the alcohol clearly taking their toll.

“Oh, doing lovely, um…” You assure him, voice wobbly as you clear your throat. “The alcohol was awesome. I haven’t… I haven’t drank like this in such a long time. It feels sooooo nice.” 

You nearly stumble into him again as you attempt to move past him, and he’s quick as the Flash to grab you by the shoulders, his hands squeezing tightly around your forearm. 

“I think you should sit down, Y/N.” 

“Bu-But I don’t want to!” 

A playful pout spreads across your face as he carefully leads you back to the quiet kitchen, away from whatever version of charades the others have put on in the middle of the living room.

“You’ve drank too much,” Jun points out worriedly. “Do you want me to take you home? I can walk𑁋”

“What are you? My… my boss or something? I’m supposed to be the one in control here! I’m… I’m the one making the decisions, not you!” You protest, a weak, half-hearted attempt at establishing your authority as you knead the fabric of his shirt into your fists. 

Did you have to be so cute when you’re drunk? Though Jun is fast to shake those thoughts away and focus more on making sure you’re okay, having to bite the bottom of his lip to conceal an incoming, endearing grin at your silly antics. 

“Come on, let me get you some water and then I’ll take you home, okay?” Jun offers, and you give him a tight-lipped smile. 

“But I am home,” You slur lowly, circling a finger in front of his face, close enough you may jab him in the eye. “I’m home here… with you…”

Jun seriously doesn’t know how he would be able to dismiss those words that left your mouth, even in your inebriated state. It doesn’t help that you’re also looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and a dreamy smile, like the world is spinning and yet he’s the only one keeping you steady. 

“Let’s go. I’m taking you home,” Jun says as he snatches up a bottle of water and slowly coaxes you towards the door, not before announcing to his friends as well, who all seem too drunk to even care anyway.

The second the cool air meets your skin and the cold water flows down your throat, you seem a little more lucid, but not entirely. You still clung an arm around Jun’s own arm, which was hanging loosely and awkwardly to the side, your steps a bit uneven as you walk down the street together.

Jun holds his breath every time your body knocks into his side, afraid you might lose balance, but you somehow manage to stay upright𑁋barely. The warmth of your arm wrapped around his doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, Y/N𑁋”

“Shhhhh,” You suddenly hiss, making Jun shut his mouth. “You’re too loud.”

Jun hangs his head down in slight guilt. “Sorry.”

“Hmm, isokay,” You mutter, tightening a grip on his and nearly causing Jun himself to stumble. “You know, you’re always so… nice. It’s kinda weird.” 

Jun tilts his head, somewhat confused by your drunken logic. He glances at you, catching the way your cheeks are shaded with a rosy hue and the warmness to your hazy eyes. 

“Weird?” he repeats curiously.

“Yeah…” You draw out the word clumsily, shifting your eyes towards him, gaze lingering on him a little longer than usual. “It’s like you’re not real sometimes.”

“You’re holding onto me.” Jun shakes his arm, and you still carry a tight grip on his arm, fingers digging lightly into the material of his sleeve. “I think I’m very real.”

“I know,” You mumble, scrunching your nose endearingly, as if you still don't believe him. “But you barely know me.” 

There’s a few moments of contemplation that passes by between the two of you. Your steps have somehow managed to sync with each other, the streetlights above casting down a soft glow on the pavement below, and the quiet night feels oddly… intimate. 

“Maybe.” Jun shrugs, voice low and soft. “But I like what I know so far.” 

Now it’s your turn to grow silent, a wave of realisation cutting through your inebriated thoughts. Your grip goes from loose to tight on Jun’s arm, your chest and heart feeling heavier than it did moments ago, and it certainly was not because of the alcohol.

Your mind is practically aching with all these thoughts, aching with the urge to do something about it, and the way Jun’s side profile is illuminated under the streetlight doesn’t help the situation at all.

“It’s funny, because I… I would see you come into class. And…” You let out a giggle. “I don’t know. My first thought was always that you were cute. Hmm, maybe dreamy too? Yeah, dreamy… That’s a silly word.” 

Before Jun can say anything to that, the words seem to tumble out of you. 

“...I’d see you fall asleep in the back of the class, or come late to lecture, and I’d think you were cute seeing you so panicked… And when you asked me to tutor you, I was so happy. It’s just𑁋I-I don’t know.” A brief pause, before you continue, “Is this what liking someone is?” 

Jun doesn’t notice how much his steps have faltered, his voice and own words getting caught somewhere between his throat and his heart. There’s a mix of panic, disbelief, and excitement flowing through him, almost too much he can’t quite process going from emotion to the other. However, how the hell does he respond when the person he’s been developing feelings for says something like that so openly?

“Shit, I’ve… I’ve made this weird, haven’t I?” You give yourself a light facepalm, before carding a hand through your hair. A yawn starts to leave you. “I’m just all over the place right now, I’m sorry…”

Jun wants to say something, needs to say something, but he stumbles over his words. “I… Y/N, I𑁋”

Before he can finish his sentence, you trip slightly, and he instinctively pulls you closer, catching you with both hands. A wholehearted round of laughter tumbles out of you, resting your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, and for a split second, everything feels still. His heart races faster than ever.

He lets you take the lead on the way back to your apartment complex, feeling as if he had been walking on eggshells the entire time. The buzz of the alcohol running its laps through you has seemed to soften, and if anything, you’re more than ready to sink into your bed for the night. Although there’s comfortable quietness in the air now, Jun can’t stop replaying all the words you’ve said to him tonight alone.

Before he can fully process everything, you come to an abrupt stop just outside your building, turning to look at him.

You stare at him for a moment, eyes roaming over his face as if you’re trying to commit everything to memory. Then, without thinking, you step up to him and press a kiss to his cheek. It’s quick, fleeting, the gesture so unexpected it sends a rush of heat flooding up his neck and straight to the tips of his ears. He’s practically on fire, at this point. 

When you pull back, there’s a bashful smile playing at your lips. “Goodnight, Jun.”

You don’t think you can ever look at Jun in the eyes without wanting to sink into the ground, because each time he comes into view, it reminds you of the absolute idiot you put on show for him last weekend. It’s harder to pay attention when your hands seem to touch every given opportunity. You just have to make it through one last tutoring session before the big dissections later that week.

“So, um, we’ll use the forceps to clamp and separate through the tissues,” Jun explains, pointing towards the dissection guide displayed on the table, still feeling a tad bit queasy at the thought of it, even if the dissection pan was empty. “Then the scalpel will be used to cut on the incision lines we marked.”

“That’s right. You got it,” You say with a small smile, briefly casting a glance towards him, watching the way he adjusts the goggles on his face. 

The two of you decided on running through the dissection for practice, focusing instead on the procedural steps and techniques. It’s been smooth-sailing so far𑁋Jun looks more confident and comfortable as he walks through each step𑁋and you’re positive that the actual lab will go well.

On the other hand, you both can’t deny the awkwardness thickening through the room, drifting within the crevices of even the most subtle interactions. 

“Alright, so once we’ve done that, we’ll… uh, we’ll…” Jun’s voice trails off as he fumbles slightly with the scalpel, trying to decide between placing it on the tray or handing it to you, his gloved fingers brushing against yours again as you grab it from him.

“Sorry,” You both blurt out at the same time, voices mixing into one.

As you both share an embarrassed laugh, a few moments of silence follows. It seems to dissipate the tension in the air. Some of it, at least.

Jun clears his throat. “Y/N, I𑁋”

“It’s fine,” You assure calmly. “Let’s just keep going.” 

“I… Okay.” His shoulders slump in a pit of defeat as he fixes his attention back down towards the task at hand. “Can you, uh… pass me the probe?”

You nod and hand it over to him, trying to attentively listen as he explains the function of the tool and how it would be used for the lab, adding any feedback along the way. You’re surprised at how easily you fall back into a comfortable rhythm, as if the moments from earlier had ceased to exist, as if that night and your stupidity didn’t happen, but only you both know about the unacknowledged elephant in the room.

The rest of the practice goes by without any more mishaps. The next thing you know, you’re pulling off your gloves and taking off your safety goggles as Jun sets the dissection tray away. By the time he returns, he’s surprised to see you already grabbing your belongings like you’re ready to leave.

Jun swallows down the nervous lump lodged in his throat. “Y/N, wait.”

You pause in the middle of stuffing some notebooks inside your backpack, already feeling the apprehension snaking up your spine as you face him.

“Can… Can we talk?” Jun asks hesitantly.

A sigh leaves you. “Look, that was really dumb of me, I get it. I shouldn’t have… kissed you on the cheek like that and said all those weird things. It was impulsive and I was drunk. I’m sorry, I should’ve known my limits, or maybe just have not come at all𑁋”

“I was really happy that you came,” Jun interrupts, a voice almost too loud in the quiet, empty lab room. He rubs his gloved hands together nervously. “And, um, the kiss... I liked it. It was, well… kind of nice.”

You really can’t tell if his words are making you feel any better or worse, if the hesitation on his side makes you want to sink more into the ground or feel a bit of hope. Regardless, it’s hard to ignore the warmth growing in your face as your fingers tighten around the strap of your backpack. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like you too, and I wanted to finally tell you that before you left my place. But then things got a little messy and it was a bit overwhelming, so I wanted to take you home because you looked like you were about to𑁋”

“Jun, just…” You chime in ruefully, clearly not wanting to relive your stupidity. “Go back a little. You like me too?”

Jun takes in a deep, slow breath.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Holy shit. I can’t believe I said that.” 

The laughs that leave you two sound more freeing in a way, more effortless, like the thick, heavy fog that settled around the room has been lifted, and for the first time in days, everything is more clearer. 

The carefree grin that Jun catches to your features nearly forces him to step up towards you, but he holds back. Instead, he thinks the sight of you looking so naturally happy is something he could cherish for a very, very long time.

“So, uh…” he starts, shooting a sheepish glance down at his shoes before meeting your gaze once more. “We’re okay?”

You only nod.

“We’re okay,” You confirm softly. “Maybe more than that.” 

As you finish getting ready to leave, you turn back to Jun, who nearly drops the dissection pan in his hands. 

“I have a meeting to go to right now,” You tell him. “But afterwards, I could… text you?” 

His face brightens expectantly, attempting to keep the excitement coursing through him at bay.  “Yeah, yeah, of course. Um… have a good meeting.” 

He’s cute. And silly. And weird. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Before you finally leave the lab room, you take a leap of faith and turn back around, heading straight towards Jun. He’s in the middle of taking off his goggles when you find yourself standing back in front of him, and a mischievous grin etches across your face. Jun takes a few steps back, his ass nearly stumbling into the table behind him.

“One more thing.” You reach up and to gently tug the goggles off his face, and the contact of your fingers to his hair has Jun bracing himself for doomsday. Your breath fans against his skin for a moment, and when you pull away, you’re holding up the goggles towards him. “You were wearing these upside down the entire time.”

Jun chokes on air, and you let out a giggle.

Shit.

Jun cannot focus right now.

The goggles feel uncomfortable on his face, the gloves make his skin feel clammy, the uncomfortable, pungent smell of formaldehyde fills the lab room and his nostrils. Not to mention that there’s a goddamn sheep brain sitting on the metal pan in front of him. 

Perhaps he can call it quits now𑁋take the zero for the lab and run for the hills, drop out of university, become a nomad in the countryside and never have to touch any sort of assignment again. In his mind right before the dissection starts, it really doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all…

“Jun?”

He snaps his eyes back at you. You’re wearing your own pair of gloves and goggles, positioning the dissection tools on the table, eyebrows raised in worry. 

“Are you good? We’re about to start,” You tell him. “You look a little pale.”

He blinks a few times, trying to compose and mentally ready himself, acting like he hasn’t just spent the last few minutes imagining an escape plan abandoning all forms of education. “Yeah, I… I’m good.”

“You good to start?” You ask, and the concern he senses in your voice makes his heart soften. “Or do you want me to take over first?’ 

There’s that offer again, the one he knows he should probably accept for the sake of his sanity, but there’s also a part of him that doesn’t want to back out now. Not when he’s finally managed to clear the air between the two of you, when things are more comfortable than they’ve been in weeks. 

Jun exhales, shaking the tenseness out of his body. This is it. Glancing around the room, he notices that other students have already started their dissections with ease. He looks down at the sheep brain again, feeling that queasiness rising, but just your presence right next to him seems to settle down his nerves way more than it should.

He steels himself, trying to cling to that feeling instead of the growing discomfort in his stomach. He can do this. It’s just a brain. A sheep brain, he reminds himself, as if that makes it any better.

Letting out one last breath for good measure, he reaches for the scalpel. 

“I’m good,” he says, more to himself than to you. “Let’s do this.” 

His hand quivers as he leans in towards the sheep brain, its colour slightly pinkish and grey. His nose crinkles the closer he gets to it, and the second he lightly grazes the scalpel along the surface of the brain, he can’t help but wince. At his side, he feels your shoulder make contact with his, and helps ground him a little more. 

Narrowing his eyes, he focuses on making a precise incision straight down the middle of the brain𑁋the medial longitudinal fissure, he recalls𑁋his hand trembling slightly as he draws the scalpel down. The smell of formaldehyde grows stronger as he slices through the tissue, and the somewhat gelatinous texture that the brain has is incredibly off-putting. 

When he finally finishes, you help part the brain in half, and Jun’s eyes widen in awe at how visible the structures are. 

“You did pretty well.” You send an encouraging smile Jun’s way, taking the probe in your hand and motioning towards the exposed structures. “See? Look at that. You can see all the parts clearly.”

Jun takes a leap of faith and points to a particular part. “That’s… the thalamus there, right? And the hypothalamus is right below it.” 

You nod proudly. “You got it. And this section right here?”

“The… pons? And then, uh… Oh! The medulla oblongata. Then the spinal cord starts beneath it.”

“Yep. Here?”

“The cerebellum!” 

Your own heart seems to swell with every step up his confidence goes, whatever discomfort he was initially feeling begins to be melted away under the warmth of your praise. You bring your eyes up from the brain, letting it roam over his side profile, taking in the way the goggles make his hair stick out in odd angles, the curve of his jaw as he tilts his head slightly, brows furrowed in concentration.

As Jun pinpoints another structure on the brain, he faces toward you for confirmation, only to be met with your eyes already on him. He opens his mouth to say something, before slowly shutting it, and for a split second, he forgets about the question he was about to ask, the lab, everything else.

“Did I get it right?” Jun questions, feeling the confidence flowing through him falter under your thoughtful expression. “This is the sulcus? And the gyrus…”

You lower your attention back down to the sheep brain, realising he was pointing to a spot with the probe. 

“Hm, just…” You start, leaning in a bit closer to examine where he’s pointing to. With a sly smirk, you reach over to grasp his wrist lightly, slowly guiding his hand more accurately with the probe. Your warmth slips teasingly under his skin. “The sulcus is the little groove right here, and the gyrus is the ridge surrounding it. See it?”

Jun swears you’re doing this on purpose, and whatever it is, it’s working.

“Got it,” he mumbles, hoping you won’t be able to see the flush to his cheeks under the goggles. His eyes flicker between the brain and your face, noting the playful glint in your pupils that certainly isn’t from the fluorescent lighting of the lab room. “I see it now. Thanks.”

You let go of his wrist, still wearing that mischievous look at your lips, though it fades into something more genuine now. “You’re doing good, you know.”

Relief hits him from your words. He does feel way more comfortable, the entire lab becoming less daunting all because you were simply right here next to him. His mind momentarily flashes back to all what you’ve done for him𑁋from the tutoring, to the way you’ve been nothing but supportive and patient with him, before it all circles back to the mutual fondness blooming its way within the crevices of your hearts together.

He likes you, and you like him back. Jun still has no idea how this came to be, because he used to think he had no such chance with you. Yet now, he has the freedom to think about where he wants to take you on your first date.

The rest of the dissection goes by with ease. Slowly but surely, other students begin to clean up their workspace and submit their lab reports to Professor Lee, their tasks winding down as the lab session comes to a close. The lab starts to empty out as the minutes tick by, and it isn’t long until there’s just a few more students left𑁋you and Jun included.

“Here, I’ll finish up here,” You tell him, taking the brain into your hands without hesitation and placing it into a sealed bag for disposal later on. Then you take the dissection tools into your hands and walk off towards the sink to wash them, leaving Jun hanging in a bit of a daze. 

“I… What can I do then?” he asks, wanting to contribute still.

You turn back to him, humming in contemplation. 

“Let’s see… Disinfect the table, take off your gloves and goggles, and then…” Your lips quirk up again. “Just stand there and look cute. I’ll handle the rest.” 

The tips of his ears flush with heat as you casually sidle away from him and towards the sink. Jun shakes away the flutters in his stomach, though the corners of his lips tugs upwards as he works on cleaning up the table. 

Jun is already waiting by the door with his backpack on his shoulders as you finish up some tasks with Professor Lee. Once you get the signal that you’re free to leave, Jun feels the excitement pool down to his feet, a sense of accomplishment knowing that he was able to get through the one lab he dreaded most, and finished the class with a passing grade.

As you both exit the building, Jun pauses in his place, watching you continue to walk a bit without him.

“I owe you a date, you know,” he calls out to you with determination, though a pinch of nervousness still lingers.

You turn back to him curiously, and the way the sun catches on your face makes you appear more radiant above anything else. “A date, you say?” 

“Yeah, I…” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Before all of this, I told you I would owe you something for helping me, and well…” He lets his shoulder relax. “I want to take you on a date.” 

Jun watches the way a bunch of emotions seem to morph among your face. Even with knowing how you feel for him, he still braces himself for a different kind of response. 

Biting at the bottom of your lip, you step back up to him, and before he could fully process what’s happening, you answer him with a quick, affectionate kiss to his cheek. Right at the corner of his lips, to be specific. Then you reach down and grip his wrist, tugging him gently towards you.

“You’re on,” You challenge, a playful sparkle to your eyes. “Let’s get going.”

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@ahuiahoe

[wanttobeh3r]

When I see that number on the scale going down, it's like nothing else matters. Not the hunger, not the pain. Just that moment of triumph.

I crave it. I crave it more than food, more than anything. It feels like freedom, like I'm finally escaping from all the weight that's been holding me down.

[coffeandgum]

all i want for christmas is a flat stomach❄️🕯️

[anaaaasback]

Bye😭

[tacticalprincess]

könig: ovulating all by yourself beautiful? <3

cw breeding kink

given the poor state of sex education when he was in school and his very minor interaction with women prior to you, könig was relatively clueless about almost everything to do with a woman’s menstrual cycle, besides the obvious bleeding aspect of it all. needless to say he was mind blown to find out about all the different phases, looking like a deer caught in headlights when you explained how much it fucks with your hormones on and off your period. he was literally the epitome of “just found out about periods… i’m so sorry women.”

ovulation was what he was most intrigued by, and not just because he’s always felt an overwhelming biological inclination to have you barefoot and pregnant with his children. all he knew was that once a month for a few days, your sex drive was insatiably high, and even the slightest of things he did triggered it. just the sight of him lounging on the couch was enough to have you jumping at him, pawing at his sweats and complaining that he was making his lap look too inviting.

you would be practically glued to his cock, sometimes to the point of frenzied and feverish. he could barely get anything done around you all glossy eyed and horny; he swears it’s almost as if you wanted him to stay inside you forever. he, of course, has no objections to this. it’s always a pleasant change from the snippy mood you’re in for a few days straight just a week before.

you don’t have a problem getting wet as it is, but during these days you get so creamy, and könig never gets tired of watching the way your pussy coats his dick in thick, pearly stickiness. the sex is always the most primal and dirty during your ovulation phase. telling him that your period tracking app warned you that your fertility is especially high that day would be like foreplay for him, and nothing made his caveman brain happier than to hear you cockdrunk and babbling about how bad you wanted to make him a father, begging him to breed your fertile womb. you can’t say stuff like that unless you mean it, maus, lest he rip the condom off and put a baby in your pretty pussy for real :(

you were both chancing it, fucking like bunnies on such high risk days. but it wasn’t like könig wouldn’t be ecstatic if it so happened to take…

[disorderedangell]

why is walking on an empty stomach so weird??

like one minute I'm fine then the next my vision is blurry my walking is wobbly and every step feels like a chore

[beatrixx1212]

i want to look how i look when i suck in

[katemoss4lyfe]

when the fasting euphoria hits and suddenly the lights are brighter, vision is blurring, there’s buzzing in the ears, whole body is trembling, everything is dizzy and you couldn’t care less, you’re just floating around in your head and let the feelings take over

[lowestkal]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . My Motivation:

Thigh gap

Straight arms

Looking/being treated like I’m frail

Getting picked up easier

Pretty privilege

The looks/staring

The dizziness

Looking “healthy”

Tight stomach

Size 0/00

No thank you I’m ok

Rejecting guys

Looking better in clothes

Compliments

[moechies]

oh please more bunny reader and toji they’re so cutesy. maybeeeee reader has really sensitive tail/ears and toji really takes advantage of that?

tamer! toji who’s the roughest with his little client bunny. well, your previous owner is to blame. he claims that you’re the pickiest, messiest, neediest bunny that needs to be put in her place ; with none other but a little bit of force.

tamer! toji who doesn’t really like rodents , but he assumes he could make an exception for you; since you’re cute and fluffy. just this once though , bunny !

tamer! toji who doesn’t let your brat antics slip past him, and makes sure that you know your place at the end of the day. he can’t let your owners tedious cash payment go to waste !

“d-don’t touch my ears !” you whine, soft sobs spilling from your pouty lips. the man has both your ears in a strong, unforgiving grip, looking to teach you a lesson for sneaking into his washroom for a peek.

the thin, white towel he has around his waist hangs dangerously low and not to mention, loose, and your wandering eyes can’t help but notice the fat chub that shows through the fabric.

“fuckin’ perverted bunny. ya need a whoopin’ to learn yer place ?” he sneers, lowering his face to face yours. you paw at his hand, thumb slipping against his burly fingers, “hn— no— it hurts ! w-was an accident , swear ! i got lost !”

toji can’t help but grin at your limpid lies; he can see right through you, little bunny.

y’r gonna learn not to lie t’me ever again tonight, bunny.”

tamer! toji who carries you towards his bed as you writhe in his grip, ignoring your little mewls and complaints about your sensitive ears as you rub incessantly at the sore flesh.

tamer! toji who bends you over in the grossest arch against his towel-clad lap, feeling his warm skin against yours as the towels knot grows weaker and threatens to slip. he tugs off your soft shorts, revealing that soft, chubby bunny butt.

tamer! toji who’s surprised when he sees how fluffy your little cottontail is, twitching nervously under his gaze.

tamer! toji who even more surprised when he takes a sneak peek at your bunny cunt , just to see how slicked up your chubby folds are, soft hole throbbing with your carnal needs. what a pervert.

“no ! d-don’t look there !” you squeal, frantic paws attempting to scurry away from the man’s grasp.

his hand comes down unexpectedly with a hard smack across your ass, the soft flesh growing raw to the touch. your throat elicits a small gasp of shock, falling pliant against the man’s lap. you’re quick to burst into tears, even if you don’t want to; but it truly hurts so bad!

“bad bunnies need t’learn.” toji coos, kneading at the raw skin. it makes you flinch against his touch. “bad, perverted bunnies.” he whispers against your soft ears, making them twitch.

he tugs at the soft tuft of your cottontail, exposing your puckered asshole soft to the touch.

“n-no!” your tail twitches against his hold, shaky hand coming behind to cover yourself.

“hey.” he spits, a rough hand grappling at the chub of your ass almost like a threat, “y’think y’r in any place to tell me no right now ?”

his hand slaps down against your plush ass once again, the sting inevitable as he holds you firmly. your hands ball into fists that shoot up to your eyes, furiously wiping away at your newfound tears, soft hiccups that accompany your cries.

“that’s it, y’r learning.” you submit helplessly below him, watching intently at your softened ears pliant against the cushion. “y’know what you need to do?”

“m—m sorry. ‘m sorry mister…!” you burst into tears once again, little toe pads curled up into ‘c’s in a fear of feeling his punishing hand on the hot burn of your ass yet again. you don’t know if he’d punish you for your loud cries yet, but you simply can’t hold back. he’s breaking your little bunny heart.

“oh..” he sighs, he feels a tad bit bad; he supposes. he watches as your forearm slaps across your face to hide your expression, your other hand in an attempt to protect your burning cheek. “hey.”

you peek up at him with a tiny stare, hiccups still reverberating through your body causing you to bounce against his lap. you ignore the fat chub that pokes at the side of your tummy, flaunting shamelessly through the fabric of toji’s pants.

“come to this room t’ night after yer duties. y’took yer punishment well.” toji grimes, and he adores the way your eyes light up like diamonds. his friend down below seems to adore it just as much as he does, too.

tamer! toji who sees you peek in half of your head at the designated time that he asked you to come, nervously treading along the glazed floors with a glint of fear that he’ll continue his punishment.

don’t think of him so lowly, bunny. he really isn’t that mean!

tamer! toji who takes care of you that night; after a bit of coercing and getting you on your tummy, ripping your frilly panties from your bruised butt and pressing in a thick plug. he thinks the pink diamond is terribly gorgeous in contrast to your soft tail, twitching with pain at the unfamiliar feeling.

tamer! toji who preps you briefly, leaning down to block your view of his hefty fingers slipping in between your chubby folds. “s—sir!” it’s not like you don’t feel it, but he loves to make a little face at you that makes you look crazy!

tamer! toji who fucks you brutally against his soft matress that night, relentlessly humping into the depths of your gushy cunt. he can’t get enough, truly. you’re one damn bunny.

he watches you skillfully, the little plug snug in your ass squeezing against his cock from the inside. he feels the hard metal that bulges from the other side of your soft walls, grunting at the tightness.

tamer! toji who can’t help but cum fat loads in your cunt when he hears your little cries, sweet yelps for your ‘mister’ to come and save you. it’s even better when they slowly grow to cute moans and pleads to cum all over. don’t worry, bunny. your new mister will be sure to tug at your cottontail and rub your clit, just to ensure his bunny a good time.