Bambi

Juhoon

subway worker and genuinely cannot care less about employment. shows up on the dot and leaves on the dot. customer service is bare minimum. he's still hired purely bc he’s very efficient and actually tolerates closing shift

whenever he gets bored mid shift he starts eating all the cookies and feigns ignorance if confronted #wtf (his favourite flavour is raspberry cheesecake Btw)

kind of stingy with toppings like he’s personally losing money if he gives you some extra cheese

hangs around the back so when you pull in you have to ding the bell and he emerges like a disgruntled turtle

also if you get malted rye or whatever it is he is JUDGING bc why the hell would you want to get all those seeds stuck in your teeth. sensory nightmare

you take a little long thinking about what to get and he starts eyeing you in the bad way like damnnnnnn my bad My Bad!

but by the time you come over enough he’s very patient. Even starts waiting at the front in case you show up. Even starts applying his employee discount. Even…. Even breaches Small Talk territory

he eventually asks you out by giving you a cookie he saved. how generous

Martin

Local music store worker but he Lowkey kind of judges you based on the music you buy

Also “tries out” the instruments around by playing FULL ASS SONGS. Yeah ok buddy. Spends more time being a customer than an employee tbh

FULLY controls the bgm when he’s on shift 

god forbid you listen to something he doesn’t like bc you Will be getting a sideeye

HOWEVER if you start talking about how much you like your music of choice he will listen very intently bc above all he just really really really loves music

runs his job like the navy. The poster interior design was All Him.

lowkey this can go both ways: he falls deeply in love with billboard top 100 listener and has to look past his high horse of nicheness Or he falls deeply in love with subgenre enjoyer and you two just share music recs as Love and Flirting

OR consider youre vengefully selling off your ex’s shit, including this beauuuuuuutiful turntable, and martin Immediately replies to your facebook marketplace listing dreaming of how sick his alice in chains dust vinyl is going to sound on it

only to end up dreaming of you more often woahhhhhhhhhhh

Seonghyeon

Uber eats driver that keeps delivering your food

his ass does Not want to be there i'm sorry. he hates his job so bad but he likes money too much to quit it so he's kind of just in hell.

The type of guy to breathe in the aroma of your uber eats on his passenger seat longingly, sigh, and deliver it #hedeservesmoremoney

lowkey a little passive aggressive when he delivers food. constantly has his airpods in on noise cancelling too so he cant hear shit

one day he gets stuck in a traffic jam. and you've genuinely had the worst day Ever and your food is cold and really he hasn't done anything wrong but you deadass just break down in front of him which is deeply embarrassing but shocking enough for him to just . hug you . and even take his airpods out like that's how you know it’s serious for him

you tip him really well out of shame for that. And he's moved woah if people paid him for doing like nothing he’d just do it forever

until he has to deliver food for this over interested chick and then he realises like . no . he just likes you . 

Keonho

cashier at an artsy bohemian small business and they PAY him

got the job because the mysterious owner and his mother do yoga together #bless

incense placed in handmade raku fired pieces is smoking away in the corner these gorgeous turkish lamps are delicately arranged across the store intricate crystal pieces are stacked on eerily realistic mannequins

…….and he’s just there……… in the middle of it…….. some average guy wearing a uniqlo t shirt and this colourful handwoven shawl across his shoulders that’s basically his uniform

hes one of Them btw. all the regulars love him. he knows them all by name.

you come in looking for a macrame pot hanger for your friend and he’s like . fear not . I HAVE YOU COVERED.

pulls out this woven box bc he knows Exactly where everything is. and presents you with six different options. kindly informs you that if you can’t find anything to just come back with the pot measurements. the Friday evening coven is looking for some fun activities and he’s sure they can do smth!

he's a little strange but hey he’s cute

❝ tracklist ❞  ─── hard to explain—the strokes ❦ re-do—modern baseball ❦ fluorescent adolescent—arctic monkeys ❦ why do you only call me when you’re high?—arctic monkeys ❦ warm glow—hippo campus ❦ softcore—nbhd ❦ line without a hook—ricky montgomery ❦ talk too much—coin ❦ mystery of love—sufjan stevens ❦ lovers rock—tv girl ❦ sofia—clairo

the afternoon sun filtered through the high, dusty windows of the library, catching the steady swirl of dust motes right over the exact table you’d claimed since the beginning of the semester. you dropped your heavy backpack onto the wood with a loud deliberate thud.

the boy sitting across from you didn’t even flinch. he kept his head down, his posture perfectly straight, mechanical pencil moving with silent precision across his grid notebook. he looked exactly like what everyone said he was: the quintessential good boy—neat collar, impeccably organised highlighters, and a calm demeanor that made him look completely unbothered by the midterms looming over your heads.

you pulled out your own chair, the screech of it against the floor intentionally louder than it needed to be. you sat down, smoothing out your pants, and flipped open your thick textbook right to the section on advanced kinematics.

for the first twenty minutes, the only sound between you two was the scratch of your pencils against your respective books and the rhythmic turning of pages. you didn’t know him nor did he know you. you were just two nameless students drowning in the same brutal syllabus who passed each other in class… until the practice quiz grades were posted online.

your phone buzzed in your lap. you quickly tapped the screen, scrolling down to the class leaderboard.

rank 1: yn yln – 98%

a tiny, satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of your lips—you couldn’t help it. you leaned back slightly, letting out a soft, airy breath of relief.

across the table, the boy’s pencil abruptly stopped. he checked his own phone. 

rank 2: eom seonghyeon – 97.5%

you watched his dark eyes scan the screen, his expression completely unreadable. then, slowly, he raised his head. it was the first time he’d ever actually looked at you—truly looked at you—instead of just glancing past you like a background character in the library or in his class.

his eyes were incredibly sharp behind his thin frames, tracking the small smirk still lingering on your face.

“you’re happy,” he said. his voice was quiet, lower than you expected, but it cut right through the silence of the room.

“just relieved,” you said, setting your phone face down. “it was a tough quiz.”

he clicked his mechanical pencil once. twice. the rhythmic sound felt like a countdown. “a point five difference.”

“a win is a win.”

“it’s a practice quiz,” he countered, though his fingers tightened slightly around his pencil. “it doesn’t mean anything for the actual midterm.”

you leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “if it doesn’t mean anything, why are you staring?”

he didn’t blink. he slowly closed his notebook, the paper making a crisp, decisive sound. “i’m just analysing the competition.”

“competition?” you let out a dry laugh. “i thought we were just two students working on the same syllabus.”

“we were,” he said, a faint, dangerous spark finally breaking through his perfect, unbothered composure. “until these scores were posted. what’s your name?”

you smiled, tapping the cover of your textbook. “look at the top of the leaderboard tomorrow. you’ll see it there again.”

his lips thinned into a straight line. he didn’t look angry—not really—but the effortless calm he’d been radiating all afternoon was completely gone.

“arrogant,” he muttered, though he made no effort to look away from you.

“confident,” you corrected, tilting your head. “there’s a difference.”

“we’ll see if that confidence holds up during the fluid mechanics module next week.” he reached for his highlighters, neatly lining them up by colour, though his movements were just a fraction faster than they had been before. “most people drop a few percentage points there.”

“is that what happened to you last semester?”

he paused, a green highlighter hovering just an inch above his desk. “i got a ninety-nine.”

“well,” you whispered, leaning in a little closer across the worn wood of the table. “then you’d better start studying harder, because i don’t plan on getting a ninety-nine. i want a hundred.”

he let out a short, quiet breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, though his face remained entirely serious. he capped his pen with a sharp click. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m top of the leaderboard.”

“for now.” he opened his notebook again, flipping past the pages he’d already finished, his eyes dropping back to his formulas, but he didn’t completely shut you out this time. “what’s your name? really.”

“why? so you can write it on a dartboard?”

“so i know exactly whose score i’m beating in the next exam.”

you looked at him for a second, watching the way the afternoon light caught the edge of his glasses. you liked the challenge in his voice—it made the stifling library air feel a little less suffocating.

“find out yourself,” you said, picking up your pencil. “if you’re as good as i’ve heard others say you are, it shouldn’t take you very long.”

he didn’t argue, but he stared at you for a second longer, his gaze heavy and calculating, before finally dropping his eyes back down to his notes. the silence settled between you again, but it wasn’t the dead, empty quiet from before, instead it felt charged now.

for the next hour, neither of you spoke. but every time you turned a page, you could feel his eyes track the movement. every time he clicked his pencil, it felt intentional. 

around five o’clock, the library started to empty out. the golden light shifted into a dull, cool grey as the sun dipped behind the campus buildings. your shoulders ached from slouching over the kinematics problems, and the numbers were starting to blur together on the page. you started packing up your things, sliding your notebook into your bag.

seonghyeon didn’t look up, but his pencil slowed down. “leaving already?”

“some of us have a life outside of advanced physics,” you said, zipping up your backpack, knowing full well you were going to go home and study anyway.

“or you’re just giving up for the day.”

you paused, looking down at him. he was still writing, his handwriting perfectly neat despite the hours he’d spent at the table. “i’m three chapters ahead of the lecture syllabus, dude. i’m hardly ‘giving up’.”

“four chapters,” he murmured softly.

“what?”

he finally capped his pencil (who caps a pencil? you wondered.) and looked up at you, a tiny, almost imperceptible tilt at the corner of his mouth. “i’m four chapters ahead. just so you know where the bar is set.”

you let out a quiet scoff, swinging your backpack over one shoulder. “keep telling yourself that. see you tomorrow, rank two.”

“goodnight, rank one.”

you turned and walked away, the heavy library doors swinging shut behind you. as you stepped out into the cool evening air, you pulled out your phone and opened the student portal, looking at the leaderboard one last time.

he was right about one thing—next week’s module was going to be brutal. you smiled to yourself and shoved the phone into your pocket. you were going to have to study twice as hard tonight.

☆

the next morning, the library was freezing—the air conditioning was blasting at full speed, cutting right through the fabric of your jumper. you arrived twenty minutes earlier than usual, fully expecting to have the table to yourself.

you didn’t, of course.

seonghyeon was already there. his hair was slightly damp from the morning drizzle, his glasses pushed up into his hair as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. a large paper cup from the campus coffee shop sat right at his elbow, condensation pooling on the wood.

you dropped your bag onto the chair. “do you live here?”

he blinked, startled out of his trance, and quickly pulled his glasses back down. his eyes were slightly bloodshot. “you’re early.”

“so are you,” you said, pulling out your chair. “and you look like you haven’t slept.”

“i sleep fine,” he muttered, closing a tab on his laptop before you could see what was on the screen. “i just like getting a head start.”

“right.” you leaned over the table, trying to peek at his notes. “how far into the fluid mechanics notes did you get last night?”

seonghyeon shifted his arm, blocking his notebook from your view with a level of pettiness that honestly impressed you. “far enough.”

“don’t be like that,” you laughed, pulling your own laptop out. “we could actually share notes. you know, be efficient.”

“i don’t share notes with people who call me rank two.”

“but it’s your name,” you teased, opening the class portal. “until you earn a new one, anyway.”

you clicked on the updated leaderboard, fully expecting to see your name still sitting pretty at the top. but as the page loaded, your smile faltered.

rank 1: eom seonghyeon – 99.5% rank 2: yn yln – 98%

he had retaken the optional mock module at three in the morning.

you stared at the screen, then slowly looked up at him. he was already watching you, a smug, entirely infuriating expression on his face. he took a slow sip of his coffee.

“morning, rank two,” he said softly.

you stared at him, your fingers tightening around the edge of your laptop screen. “three in the morning, dude? really?”

“the server is faster at night,” he said, completely deadpan. “less traffic, you know.”

“you’re insane.” you slammed your laptop shut, the click sharp in the quiet morning air. “you actually stayed up just to beat me by one and a half percent on a mock test that doesn’t even count toward the final grade.”

“one point five is a massive margin in physics,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. he looked exhausted, the faint dark circles under his eyes giving him away, but his posture was still impeccably straight. “and it clearly counted enough to make you shut your computer.”

“fan behaviour,” you leaned across the table, dropping your voice to a harsh whisper. “enjoy it while it lasts.”

“oh, i plan to.”

“because by noon, i’m taking it back.” you reached into your bag and pulled out three different coloured pens, lining them up on the table with an aggressive amount of neatness. “i don’t need sleep either.”

seonghyeon watched your pens, a flicker of amusement crossing his face before his expression smoothed back out into his usual calm mask. “is that a challenge?”

“it’s a promise.” you flipped open your notebook to a blank page, pressing the spine down firmly. “now stop talking to me. you’re distracting my internal calculator.”

“you started the conversation,” he pointed out, but he was already opening his own notebook again.

“and i’m ending it.”

for the next three hours, neither of you looked up. the only sound between you was the furious clicking of keys and the sharp scratch of your pens against paper. it felt like a war zone disguised as a study session. 

around eleven, your phone vibrated on the table. you didn’t look at it, too deep into a complex buoyancy equation, but a second later, seonghyeon’s phone buzzed too. then another buzz. and another.

you finally glanced up. seonghyeon was already looking at his screen, his eyebrows knitting together in a rare display of genuine confusion.

“what is it?” you asked.

he tapped the screen, scrolling quickly. “the professor just sent an email. the midterm format changed.”

“changed how?”

he lifted his head, his sharp eyes meeting yours across the table, the smugness completely gone. “it’s not individual anymore. he’s pairing up the top ten students based on the leaderboard for a collaborative laboratory exam.”

your stomach dropped. you slowly reached for your phone, opening the email. there it was, right at the bottom of the page.

pair 1: eom seonghyeon & yn yln.

you stared at the text, then back up at him. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

seonghyeon closed his eyes for a brief second, letting out a slow, controlled breath. when he opened them, he looked directly at you. “well, rank two. looks like we’re going to have to work… together.”

you stared at the screen, your mind entirely blank for a fraction of a second before the reality of it set in. “collaborative? in an advanced mechanics module? that’s not an exam, that’s a safety hazard.”

“it’s twenty percent of the final grade,” he said, his voice dropping into that quiet, serious register again. he put his phone face down on the table with a neat, deliberate click. “and right now, your one point five percent deficit is my problem.”

“my deficit?” you scoffed, leaning forward. “i got a ninety-eight, man. i’m not exactly dragging you down to the bottom of the curve.”

“no, but you’re unpredictable,” he said, his eyes scanning your messy stack of scrap paper, covered in scribbled notes and crossed-out equations. “you skip steps in your derivations. i’ve watched you do it. you jump straight to the conclusion because you think you’re too fast for the middle work.”

you chuckled, pulling your papers closer to your chest. “it’s called intuition. it works.”

“‘intuition’ is what gets people killed in a lab setting,” he replied smoothly, crossing his arms. “or worse, it drops our average to a ninety-five.”

“oh, god forbid,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “a ninety-five. the absolute horror.”

seonghyeon didn’t laugh. he just watched you, his gaze steady and infuriatingly calm behind his glasses. “i haven’t had a grade lower than a ninety-eight since… ever, and i don’t intend to start now because my partner wants to play it by ear.”

“i don’t ‘play it by ear’,” you snapped, keeping your voice low as the librarian walked past the end of your aisle, throwing a warning glance your way. you waited until her footsteps faded before continuing. “i just don’t need to write down every single basic algebraic step like i’m twelve, but fine, if we’re doing this, we do it properly. what’s the plan, rank one?”

a tiny, almost invisible shift occurred in his expression—the ghost of a satisfied smirk. he reached into his bag and pulled out a fresh, pristine folder, sliding it across the table toward you.

“i already split the syllabus into two distinct sections based on our strengths,” he said.

you stared at the folder, then at him. “the email came out three minutes ago.”

“i write templates for potential group projects at the start of every term,” he said, completely serious. “open it.”

you opened it. his handwriting was unfortunately perfect. “you gave me the fluid dynamics derivations.”

“you’re faster at conceptual calculus than i am,” he admitted, though it looked like the words physically pained him to say. “i took the error analysis and the hardware setup. we meet here at seven every morning until the exam.”

“seven?” you groaned. “the library isn’t even fully heated at seven.”

“then bring a thicker jumper,” he said, clicking his pencil. “we have exactly four days to make sure you stop skipping your steps.”

you glared at the folder, then at the top of his perfectly neat head as he immediately went back to his work. “you’re a tyrant. you know that, right?”

“i’m pragmatic,” he murmured, his pencil already scratching against the paper. “there’s a difference.”

“right.” you pulled the pristine folder closer, flipping through the meticulously structured pages. as much as you wanted to tear it up on principle, his breakdown of the syllabus was… brilliant. he’d mapped out every potential bottleneck in the lab exam with sickening precision.

you sighed, leaning back in your chair and pulling your sleeves down over your hands. “fine. seven am. but if i die of hypothermia before the midterm, my ghost is failing the exam with you.”

“ghosts don’t have academic records,” he said, not looking up. “but if you die, i’ll simply request a solo accommodation form from the department. i’ve already drafted the email template for that too.”

you paused, staring at him. “you’re joking.”

seonghyeon finally raised his head, his dark eyes fixed on yours behind his thin frames. his face was entirely expressionless, but there was a sharp, dangerous glint in his eyes that made your pulse do something strange. “try me.”

you let out a short, dry laugh, leaning your elbows back on the table. “i liked you better when you were rank two, seonghyeon. you were far less terrifying.”

“then you’d better study harder,” he said, his voice dropping into a quiet, steady rhythm that caught you off guard. “because i don’t plan on letting you see that version of me again.” he slid a blank sheet of his notebook’s paper across the table, tapping the top of it with the tip of his mechanical pencil. “now,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours. “show me your derivation for the navier-stokes continuity equation. and write down every single step.”

you grabbed your pen, the plastic clicking loudly against the table. “fine. but if i get bored halfway through, i’m drawing a leaderboard in the margin.”

“if you draw on my paper, i’m taking your highlighters,” he said calmly, his eyes already tracking the first stroke of your pen.

you started deriving the the equation, your hand moving fast, writing down the density parameters and the velocity vector fields. you deliberately exaggerated the pressure gradient steps, making sure the symbols were huge and impossible to miss. “there. see? completely legal, entirely thorough calculus.”

seonghyeon leaned across the table, his face coming close enough that you could smell the faint, bitter scent of the black coffee on him. his eyes scanned the lines of handwriting.

“you missed the local acceleration term in the derivative,” he said, his finger coming down to tap the blank space right before the convective acceleration expression.

you squinted at the paper. “no, i didn’t. it’s implied because the flow is steady-state.”

“the prompt didn’t state the flow was steady-state,” he countered, his voice flat but entirely certain. he reached over, took the pen straight out of your hand—his fingers brushing against yours for a brief, cold second—and neatly wrote down the partial derivative of velocity with respect to time. “never assume steady-state unless the boundary conditions explicitly give it to you.”

you leaned back, crossing your arms. “you’re splitting hairs.”

“i’m saving us from losing half a mark on a technicality.” he handed the pen back to you, cap first. “do the next part. and don’t assume anything this time.”

“i assume you must be really fun at parties.”

“i don’t go to parties,” he said, shifting his laptop slightly to the left. “they’re an inefficient use of time.”

“obviously,” you muttered, though you pulled the paper back toward you and restarted the next line of the derivation.

for the next two hours, it went exactly like that—a slow, grueling back-and-forth where every single one of your mathematical shortcuts was systematically dismantled by his red pen. he was infuriatingly precise, but as the pages started piling up between you, you noticed something else—he wasn’t just fixing your mistakes to be smug anymore, rather, he was actually matching your pace, keeping up with the rapid-fire way your brain jumped from one complex concept to the next.

by the time the library clock struck two, your wrist was aching.

“enough,” you said, dropping your pen onto the table. “my brain is entirely fried. if i look at another reynolds number, i’m going to throw up right here.”

seonghyeon looked up from his notebook. he didn’t look ‘fried’ at all, though the dark circles under his eyes seemed a little deeper in the afternoon light. he slowly gathered the loose sheets of paper, tapping them against the table to align the edges perfectly before sliding them into the folder.

“that was acceptable,” he said.

you let out a dry laugh. “acceptable? i just gave you a masterclass in fluid kinematics.”

“you gave me a lot of unnecessary attitude,” he corrected, though he was carefully putting his highlighters away in their designated slots in his pencil case. “but the math was mostly correct. we’re on schedule.”

“high praise coming from the machine,” you said, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. you stood up, looking down at him as he zipped his laptop case. “same time tomorrow?”

he paused, his hand hovering over the zipper. he looked up at you through his glasses, his expression unreadable for a second before that tiny, dangerous spark returned to his eyes.

“seven sharp,” he said. “and bring your own coffee. i won’t be sharing mine.”

“wouldn’t dream of it, rank one,” you smiled, turning toward the exit.

☆

the next morning, you arrived at the library at exactly six fifty-five. the sky outside was a heavy, bruising shade of purple, and the air inside the lobby felt like the inside of a fridge. you had a giant, steaming travel mug of black coffee gripped between both hands like a lifeline. you walked down the narrow aisle toward your usual table, fully expecting to be the first one there, but he was already sitting down.

seonghyeon was wearing a thick, dark grey woollen jumper that made him look slightly less like a human calculator and more like a normal university student, though his posture remained characteristically rigid. he had his laptop open, a massive textbook propped up against it, and three separate sheets of grid paper laid out in a perfect, parallel row.

“you’re five minutes early,” he said without looking up from his screen.

“and you’re terrifying,” you said, dropping your bag onto the chair opposite him. “do you actually sleep here? honestly. tell me the truth. do you have a sleeping bag hidden behind the self-help section or something?”

“the library doors open at six forty-five for postgraduate students,” he said, finally raising his eyes. he glanced at the travel mug in your hands, his expression entirely neutral. “you brought coffee.”

“obviously. i value my life.” you sat down, immediately pulling your knees up toward your chest to trap what little warmth you had left. “what are we doing today? more agonising derivations?”

“hardware architecture,” he said, sliding one of the grid sheets across the table toward you. it was a flawlessly drawn schematic of the fluid mechanics laboratory rig, complete with labels, flow meters, and digital sensor ports. “the lab exam isn’t just theory. we have to calibrate the differential pressure transducers ourselves. if we mismatch the digital inputs, the software throws an error code, and we lose five marks instantly.”

you looked at the diagram, tracing the neat lines with your finger. “i know how to calibrate a transducer, seonghyeon.”

“you know how to do it on paper,” he corrected, leaning forward. “but in the actual lab, the valves are old. the bleed screws on the pressure lines are stiff. if you force them, you introduce air bubbles into the system, which skews the density readings.”

you raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of your coffee. “and let me guess. you’ve already practiced on the actual rig?”

“i spent two hours in the basement lab yesterday afternoon while you were at your lecture,” he said, entirely unabashed. “the third rig from the left has a faulty bypass valve. if the professor assigns us that station, we need to manually offset the volumetric flow rate by four percent to get an accurate reynolds number.”

you stared at him, the mug hovering just below your lips. “you are a… deeply pathological individual.”

“i’m thorough,” he said, tapping the diagram. “if we get the broken rig and we don’t account for the valve, our error margins will look like we didn’t even study. now, look at the sensor pin configuration. if i handle the physical calibration, can you code the real-time data script in under five minutes?”

“i can do it in three,” you said, the competitive sting instantly waking your brain up better than the caffeine. “provided you don’t keep breathing down my neck about the syntax.”

“i only comment on your syntax because you use single-letter variables,” he said, his voice dropping into that quiet, irritatingly logical tone. “it’s bad practice.”

“it’s faster.”

“it’s messy.” 

“it works,” you snapped, opening your laptop with a definitive click. “set a timer. three minutes. give me the data parameters.”

he watched you for a second, his dark eyes fixed on yours. a slow, tiny shift occurred at the corner of his mouth—the absolute closest he ever got to a smile.

“two minutes and fifty seconds,” he said, his fingers flying across his own keyboard. “starting now.”

your fingers flew across the keyboard, the clicks loud and rhythmic against the dead silence of the dawn library. you didn’t look up, not even when the screen flashed a syntax warning. you backspaced with a vicious tap, corrected the logic, and kept going.

seonghyeon didn’t say a word. he just sat there, his phone lying between you on the table, the digital stopwatch ticking down the seconds in bright green digits.

00:45. 

00:44.

“done,” you muttered, hitting the final compile key with a sharp, satisfied slam of your index finger.

the terminal cleared. the script executed perfectly, spitting out the simulated calibration data in neat, uniform columns. you leaned back, crossed your arms, and pointed at his phone. the timer read 00:41. you had thirteen seconds to spare.

seonghyeon looked at your screen, his eyes scanning the code from top to bottom. he didn’t say anything for a long time. he just leaned closer, his shoulder nearly brushing yours as he studied the loop structure you’d written.

“you used a global variable,” he said quietly.

“it compiled, didn’t it?”

“it’s efficient,” he admitted, the words coming out slow and reluctant. he looked up, his face closer than you anticipated. behind his glasses, his dark eyes were incredibly sharp, tracking the small, triumphant grin on your face. “but it’s still dangerous practice.”

“admit it. it was brilliant.”

“it was fast,” he corrected, though he finally reached out and tapped the screen of his phone, resetting the timer. “but speed doesn’t matter if the hardware fails. tomorrow we have the open-lab session. we get exactly thirty minutes to test the actual rigs.”

you picked up your travel mug, taking a long, warm gulp of coffee. “so we go straight for the third rig from the left. the one with the broken valve.”

“exactly.” he closed his laptop, the mechanical click sounding incredibly final. “if we can master the worst station in the room, the rest of the class won’t even be a factor.”

you tilted your head, watching him pack his notebook into his bag. “you really hate losing, don’t you?”

“i don’t see the point in preparing for anything less than perfect,” he said, looking at you over the top of his glasses. “and right now, you’re the only variable i can’t fully control.”

“get used to it,” you smiled, leaning your chin on your hand. “because i’m not planning on letting you control me. we’re partners, rank one. fifty-fifty.”

he paused, his hand resting on the zipper of his backpack. he looked at you for a long beat, his expression unreadable, before a faint, dark glint flickered in his eyes.

“we’ll see about that tomorrow at seven.”

☆

the open-lab session was pure chaos. the basement room was suffocatingly loud, filled with the hum of heavy machinery, the rushing sound of water through the pipes, and the anxious chatter of thirty other students frantically trying to calibrate their equipment.

“third rig,” seonghyeon hissed in your ear, his hand catching your elbow to pull you through the crowd.

you followed him to the far corner of the lab. the station looked older than the others, the digital readout flickering slightly. seonghyeon immediately dropped to his knees, pulling a small wrench from his bag, while you set your laptop down on the workbench and plugged in the interface cable.

“the professor is watching,” you muttered, looking over your shoulder. “he’s checking the time logs.”

“ignore him,” seonghyeon said, his voice tense as he worked the stiff bleed screw on the pressure line. “focus on the data script. if the flow meter spikes past four litres per second, override the digital input manually.”

“i’m on it. just get the air bubbles out.”

your fingers blurred over the keys. the interface terminal was throwing error after error as the old rig struggled to stabilise.

“ten seconds left on our slot,” you warned, your heart hammering against your ribs. “seonghyeon, the volumetric rate is tanking.”

“three degrees to the left,” he muttered, his knuckles turning white as he forced the faulty valve. “now. run the script.”

you slammed the enter key.

the terminal screen went entirely black for a terrifying half-second. then, a single row of green text flashed across the screen.

calibration successful. error margin: 0.02%.

it wasn’t just accurate; it was flawless. better than the manufacturer’s factory settings.

“we did it!” you shrieked, completely forgetting where you were.

seonghyeon bolted to his feet, his face lit up with a huge, uncharacteristic grin that entirely transformed his strict features. before your brain could even register the logic of it, you threw your arms around his neck, and he grabbed you by the waist, lifting you slightly off the ground in a dizzying, triumphant hug.

for a split second, you could feel the solid warmth of his woollen jumper, the rapid thud of his heartbeat, and the completely real, unfiltered rush of winning together.

then, the reality of the crowded basement lab crashed back in.

you both froze.

he immediately stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides as if he’d just touched hot iron. you stumbled back a step, instantly smoothing down the front of your pants, your face burning a furious shade of red.

“uh,” you cleared your throat, looking literally anywhere else but his face. “right. so. the code... the code worked.”

“yes,” he said, his voice suddenly three octaves higher than usual. he quickly snatched his glasses off his face, wiping them vigorously on his jumper though they were completely clean. “the... the data parameters were highly satisfactory.”

“highly satisfactory,” you echoed, letting out a forced, incredibly awkward laugh. “haha. yeah… absolutely. totally professional.”

“completely professional,” he agreed, his eyes fixed firmly on the floorboards as he frantically stuffed his wrench back into his bag. “it was merely a standard demonstration of collaborative efficiency.”

“obviously,” you muttered, shutting your laptop so fast you nearly caught your fingers in the screen. “nothing happened.”

“nothing at all,” he murmured, though his ears were still bright red as he swung his bag over his shoulder.

the walk back up from the basement lab to the library was the longest five minutes of your entire life. neither of you said a word. the silence was thick, entirely different from the competitive tension you’d spent the last week building up. every time your shoulders accidentally brushed in the narrow corridor, you both practically jumped an inch apart.

by the time you reached your usual table, the golden afternoon light was just beginning to hit the high windows. you dropped your bag onto the chair. it didn’t make a loud thud this time since you were trying too hard to be quiet.

seonghyeon stood by his side of the table, his fingers nervously tracing the edge of his folder before he finally sat down. he cleared his throat, his face entirely serious again, though the faint pink tint on his ears hadn’t completely faded.

“we need to review the error analysis for the final report,” he said, his voice dropping back into that familiar, structured rhythm. “now that the calibration is complete.”

you pulled out your laptop, opening the student portal just to give your eyes something to look at. “right. error analysis. wouldn’t want to lose that point five percent.”

you clicked the leaderboard page out of habit, expecting to see the same frozen standings from the morning, but the page refreshed. the professor had updated the project progress marks based on the open-lab performance.

rank 1: yn yln & eom seonghyeon – 99.8%

you stared at the screen, a genuine smile breaking through the lingering awkwardness. you tilted the screen toward him. “well. look at that.”

seonghyeon leaned forward, his eyes scanning the text. the strict line of his mouth softened, and that tiny, familiar spark returned to his eyes behind his thin frames.

“a ninety-nine point eight,” he murmured, looking up to meet your gaze. “acceptable.”

“acceptable?” you scoffed, leaning back and crossing your arms. “we literally broke the curve, dude. you can confess it was brilliant. the professor’s ghost isn’t going to haunt you.”

“it was a team effort,” he said, though there was a definite lightness in his tone now. he opened his notebook, but instead of writing a formula, he paused, his pencil hovering over the top of the blank page. “which means the old titles are technically obsolete.”

you raised an eyebrow. “the old titles?”

“i’m no longer rank two, and you’re no longer rank one, or vice versa,” he said, looking at you over the top of his glasses. “we’re tied.”

“so what are you going to call me then? partner?” you laughed.

“too formal,” he said, a small, dangerous glint flickering in his eyes as he finally wrote something down at the top of his sheet. he turned the notebook around so you could see it.

written in his perfect handwriting was a single word: anomaly.

you let out a short laugh. “anomaly? really? isn’t that a mouthful?”

“you defy the expected data structure,” he explained, completely deadpan. “you skip steps, you use terrible syntax, and somehow you still get the correct result. you’re a statistical anomaly.”

“guess i’ll take it,” you smiled, reaching across the table and snatching the pencil straight out of his fingers. you flipped to the inside cover of his pristine folder and wrote a single word right under his name in large, messy letters: valve.

seonghyeon squinted at it. “valve?”

“because you’re completely stiff, you put too much pressure on everything, and you’re obsessed with the basement rig,” you said, sliding the pencil back to him. “plus, if i don’t ‘manually offset’ your attitude by four percent, you’re entirely impossible to work with.”

he stared at the word on his folder, his lips twitching slightly. he didn’t erase it. instead, he just pulled his laptop closer.

“get your script open,” he said softly, his fingers hitting the keys. “we have a report to finish.”

“right behind you,” you replied, opening your own files.

seonghyeon stared at the word on his folder, his eyebrows flattening into a deeply unimpressed line. “valve. really. that’s the absolute limit of your creative capacity.”

“okay, fine, it was a rough draft,” you muttered, leaning across the table and snatching the pencil back. you aggressively scribbled out the word until it was just a dark graphite blur. “you’re right. it lacks nuance. you deserve something that truly encapsulates your whole... vibe.”

he crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “i tremble with anticipation.”

you tapped the eraser against your chin, looking him up and down. the perfectly straight posture, the pristine jumper, the sharp eyes tracking your every move like a hawk waiting for a syntax error.

“genius,” you said, a slow, malicious grin spreading across your face. you leaned forward, dropping your voice to a sweet, patronising purr. “how about genius?”

seonghyeon didn’t even blink. “that’s not a nickname. that’s just a statement of fact.”

“no, you don’t get it,” you said, resting your chin in your hands, your eyes dripping with mock admiration. “it’s about the delivery, like when you start explaining basic boundary conditions for the third time, i can just sigh and say, ‘whatever you say, genius’.”

a tiny, annoyed muscle twitched in his jaw. “patronising.”

“exactly. it’s perfect for you,” you laughed, spinning the pencil between your fingers. “or wait—what about professor? since you clearly want to teach the class so badly. we can get you a little tweed jacket with the elbow patches. you’d love it—”

“i’m nineteen,” he said flatly.

“could’ve fooled me with that attitude, professor.” you leaned in a little closer, tilting your head. “what’s wrong? don’t like being managed?”

seonghyeon stared at you for a long beat, his dark eyes narrowing. the annoyed look faded, replaced by that quiet, dangerous focus that always made your chest feel slightly tight. he reached out, his cool fingers brushing yours as he took the pencil back.

“if i’m genius,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he wrote something neat at the top of your page. “then you’re prodigy.”

you squinted at the paper. “prodigy? sounds nice.”

“it’s not,” he said smoothly, capping the pencil with a soft click. “it means you have an annoying amount of natural talent, but you’re fundamentally undisciplined and require constant supervision so you don’t ruin the curve.”

you let out a dry gasp. “you did not just call me undisciplined.”

“i believe the technical term is: a liability,” he corrected, a tiny smirk finally breaking through his stoic expression. he tapped the screen of your laptop. “now open the data log, prodigy. let’s see if your brilliant brain can handle basic error propagation.”

“i hate you,” you whispered, though you were already opening the file, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“good,” he said softly, his fingers already already running across his keyboard. “now focus.”

the library grew even quieter as the clock ticked past seven in the evening. the gold light had entirely evaporated, leaving only the harsh, white glare of your laptop screens bouncing off the dark windows.

you were staring at a particularly nasty section of the error analysis report, the numbers beginning to swim into an indistinguishable grey blur. you let out a long, dramatic groan, dropping your forehead directly onto the open pages of your textbook.

“my brain has officially reached maximum capacity,” you mumbled into the paper, your voice muffled. “if i try to calculate one more standard deviation, i’m going to set this table on fire.”

across the table, the steady, rhythmic clicking of seonghyeon’s keyboard paused.

“we have three pages left,” his voice cut through the silence, crisp and completely unaffected by the twelve hours you’d both logged today. “and the library doesn’t allow open flames.”

you lifted your head just enough to glare at him through your messy bangs. he looked infuriatingly neat. his collar was still straight, his hair hadn’t even lost its parting, and his glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose.

“are you even human?” you muttered, sitting back up and rubbing your eyes. “seriously. do you have a lithium-ion battery in there? how are you still moving?”

seonghyeon leaned back, folding his arms across his dark jumper. he looked down at you, his sharp eyes holding a look that was somewhere between absolute superiority and something softer—something almost amused.

“i have discipline,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “something you might want to look into before the actual exam on friday.”

“i have plenty of discipline,” you countered, taking a desperate, final sip of your entirely cold coffee. you grimaced and set the mug down. “i just also happen to possess biological limitations. unlike certain robotic entities.”

“right.” he stood up, his chair making a faint, muffled sound against the floor.

you blinked, watching him. “where are you going? giving up?”

“i’m getting a fresh coffee from the vending machine downstairs,” he said, leaning down to pick up his wallet from the desk. he paused, his dark eyes fixing on your empty mug, then shifting up to look directly into yours. “do you want one, or is the prodigy too weak to handle another dose of caffeine?”

you let out a dry, exhausted laugh, pushing your empty travel mug across the wood toward him. “make it extra strong, genius. if i fall asleep while you’re checking my syntax, you’ll have to write that solo accommodation email for real.”

he caught the mug by the handle. his fingers were warm where they briefly brushed against yours, a sharp contrast to the freezing library air.

“two minutes,” he murmured, turning on his heel and walking down the dark aisle.

you watched him go, your lips curving into a stupid, tired smile as you pulled the report back toward you. for a machine, he wasn’t completely terrible.

when he came back, he slid your travel mug across the table with a soft, metallic clink. the steam rising from it smelled heavy and sweet—not the bitter black sludge he usually drank.

you took a sip and blinked. “did you put sugar in this?”

“you were starting to look aggressive,” he said, sitting down and adjusting his glasses. “i considered it a preventative safety measure for the library equipment.”

“whatever you say, genius,” you murmured, wrapping your cold hands around the warm mug. you stared at the report on your screen, then looked over at the fresh page he’d opened in his notebook. at the very top, he’d neatly penned ‘prodigy’s data corrections’.

you frowned slightly, tracing the edge of your mug. “hey.”

“what?” he didn’t look up, his fingers already typing.

“i think i changed my mind.”

seonghyeon’s fingers paused on the keyboard. he slowly raised his head, his sharp eyes fixing on you. “about the error propagation logic? because if you’re trying to shortcut the variance formula again—”

“no, not the math,” you interrupted, leaning your chin in your hand. you let out a small, tired laugh, looking directly at him. “about the nicknames. i think i actually prefer anomaly. it’s cuter.”

he stared at you. for a split second, the robot completely broke down. his posture stayed rigid, but his eyes widened just a fraction, and a sudden, dark flush crept up from the collar of his jumper, staining the tips of his ears a bright, furious red.

“cuter,” he repeated, his voice flat, though it lacked its usual sharp certainty.

“yeah,” you said, enjoying the way he completely lost his composure. you leaned a little closer across the worn wood. “prodigy sounds like you expect me to be perfect. anomaly feels like... i don’t know, like i’m the only thing that messes up your perfect little system.”

he didn’t say anything for a long second. he just looked at you, his throat moving as he swallowed hard. he quickly grabbed his pen, turning his eyes back down to his notebook so fast you were surprised his glasses didn’t fly off.

“it’s a statistically accurate description,” he muttered, his handwriting suddenly much less precise as he scribbled out a line of text. “nothing more.”

“right,” you smiled, taking another sip of the sweet coffee. “sure, genius. whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“shut up and calculate the standard deviation,” he whispered, his ears still burning under the harsh library lights.

“on it,” you laughed, hitting the keys.

the clock near the main desk clicked over to nine. the library was completely deserted now, save for the occasional distant thud of the security guard’s boots two floors down. the room had gotten even colder, the heavy silence pulling the two of you into a strange, insular little world under the yellow glow of the single desk lamp you’d left on.

you shifted in your seat, your shoulder lightly bumping against his. somewhere around eight o’clock, you’d moved your laptop to his side of the table under the guise of ‘better screen angles for the graph comparisons.’ he hadn’t protested.

“you’re leaning again,” he murmured, his voice incredibly soft in the quiet room.

“i’m freezing, genius,’ you complained, not moving away. in fact, you nudged your arm against his thick woollen sleeve. “and you’re like a human radiator for some reason. it’s basic thermodynamics—heat flows from hotter objects to colder ones.”

seonghyeon let out a quiet breath, the sound far closer than it used to be. he didn’t pull away either. instead, he shifted his laptop a fraction of an inch closer to yours, his hand resting on the desk just a few centimetres from your own.

“that’s an incredibly lazy application of the second law,” he said, but his tone lacked any real bite. it was just a low, teasing murmur.

“it works,” you smiled, looking sideways at him. from this close, you could see the tiny reflection of the spreadsheet columns in his glasses, and the way a few stray, damp strands of his hair from the morning rain had finally dried into a messy curl near his temple. “admit it. you like having the anomaly around.”

he paused, his fingers hovering over the trackpad. he slowly turned his head to look at you. because you were already leaning in, his face was barely a breath away. his sharp eyes looked dark, heavy, and completely focused on you.

“you’re loud,” he whispered, his eyes dropping briefly to your lips before snapping back to your gaze. “you leave ink stains on the desk. and your file naming conventions are an absolute disaster.”

“but?” you prompted, a tiny, teasing smirk playing at the corner of your mouth, your heart doing a sudden, violent flip against your ribs.

“but,” he repeated, his voice dropping into a register that made the hair on your arms stand up. he slowly reached out, his warm fingers brushing against the side of your hand before he deliberately slid his index finger under yours, locking your hand against the table. “your calculus is acceptable.”

“just acceptable?” you whispered back, your fingers tightening around his.

“ninety-nine point eight percent acceptable,” he murmured, a genuine, completely unforced smile finally breaking through his strict expression. “which is close enough to perfect for now.”

the silence stretched out between you, long and heavy, but the tightness in your chest didn’t feel like panic anymore. it felt like waiting.

his fingers stayed hooked under yours, warm and steady against the cool wood of the table. you didn’t move your hand away, and he didn’t pull back. for a long time, the only sound was the faint, rhythmic hum of the fan.

“you’re not writing anything,” you whispered, your eyes dropping down to the blank line on his screen.

“you’re distracting the calculator,” he murmured back. his thumb shifted, just a fraction of an inch, the rough edge of his skin brushing against the side of your wrist. the touch was tiny, almost imperceptible, but it made a sharp prickle of heat shoot straight up your arm.

“i thought the genius was supposed to have absolute focus,” you teased, though your voice lacked its usual sharp edge. it came out soft, slightly breathless.

seonghyeon didn’t answer right away. he slowly turned his wrist, his palm sliding flat against yours until your fingers slotted together, completely natural, hiding the messy ink stains on your skin under the heavy warmth of his hand. his grip wasn’t tight, just firm enough to keep you right there.

“i do,” he said, his eyes fixing on yours with that quiet, terrifying intensity. “i’m focusing.”

“on the report?”

“on my anomaly.”

your breath hitched. you looked down at your joined hands, your heart hammering so loudly against your ribs you were certain he could hear it in the dead quiet of the aisle. you let out a tiny, shaky laugh, nudging his shoulder with yours. “that’s... highly irregular behaviour, professor.”

“the data changed,” he whispered, his head tilting slightly closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “i’m adjusting the model.”

he didn’t lean in to kiss you. he didn’t push it further. he just sat there, his shoulder pressed against yours, holding your hand under the pale yellow glow of the desk lamp while the clock on the wall kept ticking closer to midnight.

“we still have two pages left,” you murmured, though you didn’t make any move to look back at the screen.

“i know,” seonghyeon said softly, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate circle over the back of your hand. “we’ll finish it tomorrow at seven.”

the library security guard finally kicked you both out at midnight, his keys jangling loudly as he ushered you toward the glass doors. outside, the air was crisp, the earlier rain leaving the pavement slick and reflecting the amber glow of the streetlights.

“i’m driving you home,” seonghyeon said, adjusting the strap of his backpack. it wasn’t a question.

“you don’t have to do that, genius,” you said, shivering as the night air hit your face. “the night bus is still running.”

“it’s late, it’s freezing, and the data script is on your laptop. if you get kidnapped, i have to re-do the whole thing alone,” he said, turning toward the student parking lot. “let’s go.”

his car was exactly like him—a sensible, perfectly clean silver sedan. the interior smelled faintly of mint and old paper. as soon as the engine started, he cranked the heater up, the warm air immediately blasting against your frozen hands.

for the first ten minutes, the silence was quiet and comfortable. the city blurred past the windows in a stream of neon lights. it was the first time in a week you weren’t actively looking at an equation.

“so,” you said, leaning back against the headrest and looking at his profile. without his usual glasses on—he’d switched them for a pair of driving glasses—he looked softer. “does the genius actually do anything besides calculate fluid velocity? what’s your life look like when you’re not breaking the academic curve?”

seonghyeon kept his eyes fixed on the road, his hands perfectly positioned at ten and two on the steering wheel. “i take care of my sister.”

you blinked, turning slightly in your seat. “you have a sister?”

“a younger one. she’s fourteen,” he said, the corner of his mouth softening into a genuinely warm expression you hadn’t seen before. “and she’s currently convinced that she’s going to be a professional artist, which means our kitchen table is permanently covered in charcoal dust and acrylic paint. it’s completely inefficient, but... she likes it.”

“that’s... actually really sweet,” you murmured, a faint smile touching your lips. you looked out the side window as he took a smooth left turn. “i’m an only child.”

“really?” he glanced at you briefly before looking back at the road. “i would have guessed you had three older brothers based on how aggressive you get over a leaderboard.”

“yah!” you laughed, nudging his shoulder. “no, it’s just me. honestly... it gets pretty quiet. especially during exam season when my parents are working late.” you looked down at your hands, your voice dropping a little lower, losing its usual teasing energy. “sometimes i see people complaining about their siblings, and i just... secretly wish i had someone to talk to at home. someone to yell at, or share things with, or just have around so the house doesn’t feel so massive. like everyone else does.”

the car slowed down, pulling up to the curb right outside your apartment building. seonghyeon put the car in park but kept the engine running, the warmth wrapping around you both. he didn’t say anything for a long moment. he just turned his head, his dark eyes studying your face in the dim cabin light. the teasing, condescending mask was completely gone, replaced by that steady, grounding presence from the library.

“you don’t have to be completely alone at home,” he said quietly.

you looked up, meeting his gaze. “what?”

he reached over, his fingers lightly tapping the edge of your phone where it sat in the console, displaying the route to your house. “the library opens at seven. but if you’re stuck on something at three in the morning... the server is faster at night anyway. you can just call me.”

your heart gave a small, distinct thump against your ribs. “is that an official recommendation, professor?” you whispered, a tiny, tentative smile returning to your face.

“it’s a calculated strategy, my anomaly,” he murmured back, his eyes holding yours, warm and completely serious. “to ensure our collaborative efficiency remains perfect.”

you stared at him, the soft hum of the car engine filling the tiny space between you. a slow, teasing smile pulled at your lips despite the fluttering in your chest. “three in the morning, though? that sounds an awful lot like you’re trying to disrupt my sleep schedule, genius.”

“i’m simply offering a technical resource,” he replied smoothly, though the slight adjustment he made to his driving glasses gave him away. “if the anomaly is offline, the system doesn’t function properly. it’s preventative maintenance.”

“preventative maintenance,” you echoed, shaking your head as you reached for your backpack. “you really have a romantic term for everything.”

“goodnight, yn,” he said, his voice dropping into that quiet, grounding register that caught you off guard. he didn’t pull his hand back immediately from the console, his fingers resting just inches from where yours had been.

“night, genius,” you called, opening the car door. the crisp night air hit you, but the warmth from the car stayed with you all the way up to your apartment.

☆

the next three days went by in a blur of intense focus and shifting boundaries. the constant fighting had completely dissolved into something entirely different—a quick, sharp banter that felt more like a dance than a debate. when you accidentally skipped a step in your final error propagation proof, he didn’t dismantle you with his red pen; he just leaned in, his shoulder firmly pressed against yours, and whispered, “you’re doing it again,” before sliding his own neatly lined paper under your hand.

by friday afternoon, the actual midterm was practically an afterthought. you navigated the old, faulty third rig like you’d built it yourselves, your code executing flawlessly while seonghyeon handled the stiff valves without losing a single percent of efficiency.

when the final grades popped up on the department board an hour after the exam, there it was at the very top.

100%

“perfect,” you stated, leaning against the hallway wall, looking at the screen.

“satisfactory,” seonghyeon corrected, standing right beside you. but he was looking at you, not the board, a genuine, unmasked smile completely softening his sharp features.

“oh, come on, a hundred percent is perfect, even by your metrics,” you laughed, turning to face him.

“the grade is perfect,” he murmured, stepping a fraction closer, his dark eyes fixed on yours. the hallway was buzzing with students rushing past, but everything else felt entirely distant. “the partnership was the unexpected variable.”

you tilted your head, your heart doing that familiar, erratic flip. “and what does the data say about the variable now that the exam is over?”

seonghyeon reached down, his fingers lightly brushing against the side of your hand before sliding into yours, locking his fingers with yours right there in the middle of the corridor.

“the model requires further long-term testing,” he said softly, a tiny, brilliant smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “starting tomorrow. seven sharp?”

“make it eight,” you smiled, tightening your grip on his hand. “your anomaly needs her sleep.”

seonghyeon’s smirk widened just a fraction, the sharp lines of his face softening completely. “eight,” he repeated, as if checking the word against a mental schedule. “highly irregular, but... acceptable, i suppose.”

“look at you, compromising,” you teased, your thumb lightly brushing the back of his hand. “the physics department might strip you of your title if they find out.”

“they won’t,” he murmured, his grip on your hand firm and steady as he guided you toward the exit doors, completely ignoring the curious glances from a few of your classmates passing by. “because our data speaks for itself. a hundred percent leaves no room for administrative intervention.”

the outside air was cool, but the afternoon sun was bright, hitting the campus courtyard in broad, golden sheets. for the first time in a week, you didn’t feel the crushing weight of a deadline hanging over your shoulders.

as you walked down the stone steps together, your fingers still laced perfectly between his, you glanced sideways at his profile. his glasses were caught in the sunlight, and he looked remarkably relaxed for someone who spent his life stressing over the second decimal place.

“so,” you said, your voice dropping into a quieter, slightly hollow tone as you looked out over the crowded square. “i guess it’s back to reality now. my parents are pulled into an overnight shift at the clinic, so the apartment is going to feel about ten times bigger than usual tonight. just me, a microwave meal, and the absolute silence of a completed syllabus,” you thought aloud.

seonghyeon stopped at the edge of the pavement, turning to face you fully. he looked down at your joined hands, his thumb pausing its steady rhythm against your knuckles, before his dark eyes lifted to study your face. the analytical, distant look was entirely gone, replaced by that quiet, deliberate focus.

“my sister demanded i bring home actual pastry from the bakery near the station to celebrate the end of our exams,” he said, his voice dropping a fraction lower, losing its usual rigid pacing. “she also bought a new set of heavy-weight sketching paper that she claims requires a second opinion.”

you tilted your head, a little confused. “okay? i’m sure her art is great, but—”

“come with me,” he interrupted softly.

you blinked, staring at him. “what?”

“you said you didn’t like the silence,” seonghyeon said, his eyes holding yours, warm and completely serious. “and minji has been tracking the leaderboard updates via my laptop screen for the last four days anyway. she informed me this morning that if i didn’t bring the person responsible for making me look human home, she would purposefully misplace my engineering rulers.”

you let out a genuine laugh, the slight emptiness in your chest instantly melting away into a sudden, chaotic flutter. “she threatens your stationery? oh, i like her already. she knows exactly how to handle the genius.”

“she’s a menace,” seonghyeon corrected automatically, though the sheer fondness in his tone completely contradicted the word. he squeezed your hand gently, stepping a fraction closer until the toes of your shoes almost brushed his. “she’s loud, she’s messy, and she will definitely try to get you to spill all my embarrassing study habits. it’s a completely uncontrolled environment.”

“sounds perfect for an anomaly,” you smiled, looking up at him.

“it is,” he whispered, his free hand reaching up to gently tuck a stray, wavy lock of your bangs behind your ear, his warm fingers lingering against your cheek for just a second. “let’s go.”

the ride to his house was completely different from the midnight drive two days ago. the car was still warm, but the heavy silence had evaporated, replaced by the low hum of the radio and the steady, quiet rhythm of seonghyeon’s voice as he detailed his sister’s chaotic routine.

he pulled up to a neat, two-story house in a quiet residential lane. before he could even turn the key all the way back in the ignition, the front door flew open. a girl with the exact same dark, sharp eyes as seonghyeon—but with her hair pulled into two messy, paint-stained buns—stood on the porch, leaning heavily against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

“you’re exactly six minutes later than the navigation app predicted, eom seonghyeon,” she called out as you both stepped out of the car. “i was about to start hiding the mechanical pencils.”

“traffic at the junction was heavier due to friday afternoon clear-out,” seonghyeon replied, his tone instantly slipping into that familiar, deadpan defensive mode as he grabbed the box of pastries from the back seat. “and don’t touch the pencils, minji.”

minji completely ignored him, her eyes shifting immediately to you. a massive, wicked grin spread across her face. “you must be the anomaly.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, walking up the steps beside seonghyeon. “the one and only. and you must be the stationery thief.”

“she’s a criminal element,” seonghyeon muttered, nudging his sister out of the doorway with his elbow so we could step inside.

the house didn’t feel massive or empty at all. it smelled like vanilla tea, wood polish, and the distinct, sharp scent of turpentine. just like he had warned, the dining table just off the kitchen was entirely buried under giant sheets of grey charcoal paper, scattered blending stumps, and a half-finished portrait of a very annoyed-looking cat.

“don’t look at that one, it’s terrible,” minji said quickly, dragging two chairs out from the edge of the clutter. “sit down! seonghyeon, go make the tea. the good kind, not the bitter grass you drink.”

“i know how to make tea,” he said flatly, setting the pastry box down on the counter. he looked back at you over the top of his glasses, his expression a mix of resignation and that quiet, soft warmth that always made your chest feel tight. “don’t let her interrogate you.”

“i’m making no promises,” you smiled, sitting down and immediately leaning over to look at a sketchbook minji had pushed toward you.

for the next hour, the kitchen was louder than your own apartment had been in months. minji was a whirlwind of energy, showing you her character designs, complaining about her middle school art teacher, and gleefully revealing that seonghyeon had actually colour-coded his high school diaries by emotional variance.

“he didn’t,” you gasped, looking over at the kitchen counter where he was standing, his back to you as he poured the hot water.

“he did!” minji leaned in, whispering loudly. “blue was for ‘highly regular,’ red was for ‘inefficient’. he stopped doing it when i stole the red pen.”

“minji,” seonghyeon’s voice carried over the hum of the kettle, low and warning, though you could see the dark flush creeping up the back of his neck from behind.

you leaned your chin in your hand, watching his rigid posture as he carefully arranged three mugs on a wooden tray. the warmth of the house, the loud, messy life filling the room, and the steady, protective weight of his presence just a few feet away completely washed over you. your quiet, empty apartment across town felt miles away.

seonghyeon walked back over, setting the tray down in the single clear spot on the table. he sat down in the chair right next to yours, his shoulder immediately pressing against your sleeve, solid and warm.

“she’s exaggerating,” he murmured, his dark eyes meeting yours as he slid a mug of sweet vanilla tea toward you.

“i don’t know, professor,” you teased softly, your eyes dropping down to where his hand rested on the table, just an inch from yours under the edge of a giant sketch sheet. “the data seems pretty consistent.”

seonghyeon didn’t pull away. instead, beneath the overlapping edges of his sister’s charcoal drawings, his fingers slid sideways, hooking quietly around yours and locking them tight.

“the system has evolved since then,” he whispered, his thumb tracing a slow circle over your knuckles while minji reached for a pastry, completely oblivious. “the current model is much less predictable.”

minji was currently in the middle of a highly animated demonstration of how she planned to sneak a giant, six-foot canvas into her art classroom next week, using her hands to mimic the dimensions of the school corridor.

“and then, if the vice-principal turns the corner, i just hold it up and pretend i’m a very realistic wall,” she insisted, her paint-stained buns shaking as she laughed.

“a flawless tactical maneuver,” you grinned, leaning forward and grabbing a custard pastry from the box. “though if you need a diversion script to throw off his schedule, i know a guy who specialises in timing logs.”

“oh, absolutely not,” minji snorted, waving a charcoal-covered finger at her brother. “he’d just calculate the exact velocity of my suspension and tell me it’s an inefficient use of canvas space.”

across the table, seonghyeon didn’t even attempt to defend his honour. he just leaned back in his chair, his hands wrapped around his mug of tea, watching the two of you. for someone who usually looked like he was trying to solve a differential equation in his head, his face was completely relaxed. his dark eyes shifted from minji’s laughing face back to yours, a soft, incredibly quiet warmth settling over his features. he didn’t say a word, but the tiny, contented curve of his mouth spoke volumes. you could practically feel the happiness radiating off him—the deep, grounding satisfaction of seeing his two favorite variables fitting perfectly into the same equation.

when you caught him staring, you tilted your head, shooting him a quiet, teasing smirk. he didn’t blink or look away this time. he just held your gaze, his eyes dark and heavy with a look that made your throat go suddenly dry, before he took a slow sip of his tea.

“anyway,” minji said, suddenly snapping her sketchbook shut, leaving a small puff of graphite dust in the air. “i need to wash this acrylic off my hands before it permanently bonds to my skin. seonghyeon, go show her that old textbook she was asking about. it’s upstairs in your cave.”

“it’s a bedroom, minji, not a cave,” seonghyeon muttered, standing up and clearing the empty pastry wrapper.

“whatever, professor,” she called out over her shoulder as she skipped toward the hallway bathroom.

seonghyeon turned to you, pushing his glasses slightly higher on his nose. “the textbook has the exact logic gates we were arguing about for the final question. it’s on my shelf upstairs, if you actually want to prove your theory.”

“obviously,” you said, standing up and smoothing down your pants. “i don’t back down from a technical debate.”

his room was exactly what you expected, yet entirely intimate in a way that made your heart clip your ribs. it was pristine—books lined up by subject, a desk with perfectly gridded notebooks, and a heavy wood bookshelf against the wall. but it also smelled completely like him—that sharp, clean scent of mint and fresh paper.

seonghyeon walked over to the shelf, his fingers scanning the spines before pulling down a thick, leather-bound volume. “here. page two hundred and fourteen. look at the diagram.”

you walked over, but instead of taking the book, you leaned against the edge of his neatly made bed, the soft mattress giving way slightly under your weight. “why don’t you just open it for me, genius? save me the effort.”

he paused and slowly turned around, the heavy textbook held between his hands, his eyes tracking you as you sat back on the edge of the dark blue comforter. the space between you suddenly felt incredibly small, the distant sound of minji humming in the bathroom downstairs fading into absolute static.

he walked over, his steps slow and deliberate, before setting the book down on the desk beside the bed. he didn’t stay standing. he sat down right next to you, the mattress shifting, his long leg brushing against yours from ankle to hip.

the tension that had been building for the last three days—through every accidental shoulder brush, every midnight drive, and every locked hand under the library table—suddenly snapped tight, vibrating in the inches between your faces.

“you’re distracting the system again,” he whispered, his voice dropping in a way that made your breath hitch.

“the system looks completely offline to me,” you murmured back, your eyes dropping down to his lips before rising to meet his gaze behind his glasses.

seonghyeon reached up, his fingers steady but slightly warm as he slipped his glasses off his face, setting them down on the nightstand with a quiet click. without them, his eyes looked wider, darker, and completely unguarded.

“anomaly,” he breathed, his hand coming up to cup the side of your jaw, his thumb smoothing over your cheekbone, tilting your face up just a fraction.

“hm, genius?” you whispered, your heart hammering so hard you could feel it in your throat.

“shut up, please,” he murmured softly, and then finally leaned in.

the kiss wasn’t rigid or calculated at all. it was soft, heavy, and completely real, his lips pressing against yours with a slow, desperate kind of relief that took your breath entirely away. you let out a small, shaky sigh against his mouth, your hands instantly reaching up to knot into the front of his dark woollen jumper, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you at all.

he shifted, his other hand sliding around to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling into your hair, holding you steady as the kiss deepened, turning sweeter, warmer, and completely melting every piece of information in your brain.

when he finally pulled back just a fraction, his forehead rested against yours, both of your breaths coming out short and uneven in the quiet room.

seonghyeon’s eyes fluttered open, a brilliant, completely unmasked smile breaking across his face as he looked at your flushed cheeks.

“the margin of error,” he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing your bottom lip. “is exactly zero.”

you let out a soft, breathless laugh, your hands still tightly gripping the wool of his jumper. “zero? you’re getting sloppy, professor. i thought you always accounted for environmental unpredictability.”

“you are the environmental unpredictability,” seonghyeon murmured, his voice incredibly low and rough as he leaned in again, his lips catching yours in another quick, lingering kiss that made your toes curl. his thumb was still smoothing over your jawline, his touch so tender it felt entirely distinct from the rigid, competitive boy you’d met a month ago.

when he finally pulled back to look at you, his chest was heaving slightly. without his glasses, his dark eyes held a sort of heavy, unguarded softness that was reserved completely for you. a few stray locks of his neat hair had fallen across his forehead, making him look completely undone.

“irregular data structures,” he whispered, a tiny, brilliant smirk returning to his lips as he reached over to the nightstand, sliding his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. the lenses instantly caught the warm light of his desk lamp. “but the experimental results are highly satisfactory.”

“highly satisfactory,” you echoed, reaching up to fix the collar of his jumper, your heart still doing double-time against your ribs. “is that the best you can do?”

“perfect,” he corrected softly, his hand coming down to cover yours, slotting his fingers firmly between yours and bringing them down from his collar to press them against the dark blue comforter. “the results are perfect.”

from downstairs, the sudden, loud clatter of a metal paint tray hitting the kitchen floor cut straight through the quiet of the bedroom, followed immediately by minji’s distant yell. “i didn’t break it! it fell due to gravitational inefficiency!”

you both froze, staring at each other for a split second before you both burst into quiet, simultaneous laughter.

seonghyeon let out a long, defeated sigh, shaking his head as he rested his forehead against your shoulder for a brief, heavy second. “she’s going to destroy the house before we even finish the tea.”

“well,” you smiled, leaning down to press a quick, daring kiss to the top of his head, right where his hair parted. “we better go save your engineering rulers, genius.”

“agreed, my anomaly,” he murmured, his eyes crinkling behind his frames as he stood up, pulling you gently off the bed along with him, his hand refusing to let go of yours for even a second. “let’s go manage the tiny monster of a variable.”

you both walked down the stairs, your hands still loosely linked until you reached the final step, where he gave your knuckles one last, lingering squeeze before letting go.

the kitchen was exactly the chaotic scene minji’s shout had promised. she was on her hands and knees, aggressively wiping at a massive splash of bright turquoise water on the tiles with a wad of paper towels.

“i swear it was the cat,” minji said immediately, looking up with a completely guilty grin as you both walked in. her eyes darted instantly to seonghyeon’s face, then to yours, her gaze widening slightly as she took in your flushed cheeks and her brother’s completely missing analytical frown. a knowing, wicked smile spread across her face. “well. you guys took a long time to look up a logic gate graph or whatever.”

seonghyeon didn’t even blink, though a telltale smudge of pink returned to the tips of his ears. he walked straight past her, grabbed the proper floor mop from the utility closet, and handed it down to her. “the cat is currently sleeping on the living room sofa, minji. your theory is extremely flawed.”

“whatever, ‘genius’,” she snorted, taking the mop and throwing a wink in your direction. “hey, yn, you should stay for dinner. seonghyeon is making kimchi fried rice, and he actually measures the sesame oil with a syringe so it’s ‘mathematically balanced’. it’s hilarious to watch.”

you laughed, leaning against the counter as seonghyeon took the empty tea mugs and rinsed them in the sink. “a syringe? really?”

“it ensures consistent flavor distribution,” seonghyeon’s voice came from above the running water, entirely deadpan, though he shot a mock-glare over his shoulder at his sister.

“i’d love to stay,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his. the earlier emptiness of your own quiet apartment felt entirely distant now, completely replaced by the warmth of this kitchen, the messy charcoal sheets on the table, and the boy currently trying very hard to look like a machine while his ears were still bright red. he turned off the tap, drying his hands on a towel. he walked back over to where you stood, his shoulder lightly brushing yours as he reached for the rice cooker.

“ninety-nine point eight percent consistent,” he murmured, his voice dropping just low enough for only you to hear, a tiny, brilliant spark dancing behind his thin frames. “but i suppose i can alter the recipe for a special variable.”

“just make sure you don’t ruin the curve, professor,” you whispered back with a smirk.

minji let out a dramatic, suffering groan from the floor, leaning heavily on the mop handle. “please do not talk about curves or variables while i’m trying to clean up a spill. it’s ruining my artistic aura.”

“your aura is currently eighty percent turquoise pigment, minji,” seonghyeon remarked smoothly, already pulling the ingredients out of the fridge with the practiced precision of a seasoned lab technician. the spring onions, the kimchi, the eggs—everything was lined up on the chopping board in a perfect, geometric grid.

you leaned your hip against the counter, watching his hands. his fingers were steady, his cuts entirely uniform. “you know, for someone who claims to hate inefficiency, you’re spending a lot of time making this look like a food styling commercial.”

he paused, the knife hovering over a spring onion. he glanced up at you over the top of his glasses, the sharp yellow kitchen light catching the dark depth of his eyes. “presentation affects the psychological perception of flavor density, yn. it’s simple cognitive science.”

“sure it is,” you teased, reaching out and deliberately picking up one of the neatly diced pieces of kimchi, popping it into your mouth before he could stop you. “flawless density.”

a tiny, helpless twitch of a smile broke through his expression. he shook his head, turning back to the stove, but as he moved the pan, his foot lightly nudged against yours under the cabinet lip—a quiet, secret connection while minji was distracted throwing the wet paper towels into the bin.

dinner was loud, messy, and entirely perfect. you sat at the edge of the charcoal-streaked table, sharing the ‘mathematically balanced’ rice directly out of the pan because minji insisted washing three extra bowls was an inefficient use of human labor—an argument seonghyeon surprisingly conceded to after you agreed with her.

by the time the clock in the hallway chimed ten, the heavy fatigue of the long week finally began to settle into your bones. your head felt heavy, a soft yawn escaping your lips as you helped seonghyeon clear the last of the glasses.

“the anomaly’s battery is operating at critical levels,” seonghyeon noted quietly, chuckling, his hand reaching out to catch the glass you were holding, his fingers brushing yours with that familiar, grounding warmth. “i’m driving you home.”

“yeah,” you murmured, not even trying to argue this time. “i think the code is crashing.”

later, minji ran out to the porch to wave you off, wrapped in a giant, oversized paint hoodie. “come back on sunday! i need you to help me convince him that a six-foot canvas is a household necessity!”

“i’ll be there!” you called back, laughing as you slid into the passenger seat of his car.

the drive back was quiet, but it wasn’t the lonely, distant silence of the previous days. it felt full, heavy with the memory of the warm kitchen, the messy sketches, and the quiet room upstairs. the heater hummed softly, blowing warm air over your knees as the city lights blurred past.

when the car smoothly pulled up to the curb outside your apartment building, seonghyeon put it in park but left the engine running. the amber streetlamps filtered through the window, casting long, soft shadows across his sharp profile.

you unbuckled your seatbelt but didn’t move to open the door. instead, you turned in your seat, leaning your head back against the headrest to look at him. “thanks for taking me with you, hyeon. the house... didn’t feel massive tonight.”

he turned his head. without his driving glasses on, his eyes were incredibly soft, completely exposed in the dim light of the dashboard. he reached across the console, his hand sliding flat against yours, locking his fingers firmly between yours.

“the model functions better when the variable is integrated, you know,” he whispered, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand with a slow, deliberate pressure.

“is that a scientific conclusion, professor?” you whispered back, leaning slightly closer across the space between the seats.

“it’s an empirical fact,” he murmured.

he leaned across the console, his hand shifting to the back of your neck, his fingers curling gently into your hair as he pulled you into a slow, lingering kiss. it was quiet, heavy with the promise of tomorrow, his lips warm and completely certain against yours. when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a brief, breathless second, a genuine, brilliant smile touching his lips.

“eight o’clock tomorrow, anomaly,” he whispered against your skin. “don’t be late.”

“make it eight-fifteen, genius,” you smiled, kissing the corner of his jaw before finally reaching for the door handle. “the system needs a buffer.”

“whatever you say, angel.”

© hyuneskkami ❦

It had now long been in your islands' favour to accept and love the dragons as your own, running various stalls across the village to aid those in finding 'their' dragons. The great war was over, the old ways forgotten, and now dragons roamed freely through the streets, curled up in doorways, and perched on rooftops like oversized, scaly cats.

With the likes of you, a warrior's eldest daughter and future fighter, it came natural that your dragon was the child of your father and mother's. Storm was a magnificent creature: a Thunderclaw with scales the colour of a twilight sky, wings that could block out the sun, and a bond with you that ran deeper than blood. You'd grown up together, trained together, flown together since you could walk. She was part of you, and you were part of her.

That night, you were doing what you always did when the weight of expectations pressed too heavy on your shoulders: flying.

The sky was a tapestry of stars, the moon a sliver of silver hanging low over the sea. Storm's wings beat a steady rhythm beneath you, her body warm between your thighs, the wind cold and sharp against your face. You'd left your village behind, the distant glow of its lanterns nothing more than a smudge on the horizon. Up here, you weren't the warrior's daughter or the future of your family's legacy. You were just a girl and her dragon, soaring through the infinite dark.

You leaned forward, pressing your cheek against Storm's neck, and she rumbled contentedly. 

You were about to urge her higher, to chase the stars, when something suddenly collided into you.

The impact knocked the air from your lungs.

One moment you were flying, the next Storm was twisting violently beneath you, a shriek tearing from her throat as something hit her side.

You felt your grip slip, your fingers scrambling for purchase, and then you were falling.

The world spun, the sky and sea and stars blurring together in a sickening whirl. You caught a glimpse of Storm above you, wings flailing as she fought to regain her balance, her roar of panic echoing across the water.

The wind screamed past your ears and the sea rushed up to meet you, a dark, hungry maw. You tried to twist, to orient yourself, but there was nothing to grab, nothing to hold onto. You were plummeting, and the water was getting closer, and you couldn't breathe, couldn't think straight.

Then you saw it.

A figure that looked distinctly human falling towards you at rapid pace, their arms locked at their sides, mirroring the very move dragons do when aiming to soar downward.

Behind them was a shape darker than the night sky, moving faster than anything you'd ever seen.

It was another dragon, a Night Fury in fact.

You barely had time to process before the human reached you, behind them the massive wings of their dragon folding as it plunged through the air towards you. 

Their hands closed around your waist, and their grip was iron-tight, yanking you against them with a force that knocked the wind from your lungs all over again. Your limbs wrapped around the human instinctively—arms around their neck, legs around their waist—as the dragon finally soared down beside you and the human hauled you onto the saddle.

The Night Fury curved beneath you, wings snapping open to catch the air as your weight fell atop it, and you skimmed the water so close you could feel the spray on your ankles. Then you were climbing, the sea falling away, the sky opening up again.

You were gasping, trembling, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. Your face was pressed into the rider's shoulder, and you could feel their heart too, racing against yours.

"Are you alright?" Their voice was rough and breathless, entirely too calm for someone who'd just plucked a falling girl from the sky.

You couldn't speak. You just nodded against their shoulder, your fingers digging into their back.

"Good," they said. "Hold on."

The Night Fury banked sharply, and you clung to them as the world tilted. Below, an island emerged from the darkness: a small crescent of sand and rock, fringed with pale trees. The dragon descended in a smooth spiral, landing with barely a sound on the beach.

The rider dismounted first, then reached up to help you down. Your legs gave out the moment your feet touched sand, and they caught you again, steadying you with hands on your elbows.

"Easy," they said, their voice low and steady. "You're safe now."

You looked up, and there, in the moonlight, was a boy you'd never seen before.

He was lean, with sharp cheekbones and dark hair that fell across his forehead, wind-tousled from the flight. His eyes were wide and worried, scanning your face for injury. There was a streak of dirt across his cheek and a fading bruise on his jaw. He wore unfamiliar clothes: the stitching different from your village's, the leather darker, the buckles arranged in a pattern you didn't recognise. His hands were still wrapped around your elbows, steadying you, and you could feel the warmth of his palms even through the thick fabric of your riding gear.

You stared at him and he could only stare back.

"You're not from my village," you said, your voice coming out breathier than you intended.

He blinked, his dark eyes finally leaving your face to scan your figure, taking in the cut of your armour, the embroidery on your cloak, the way Storm's saddle was crafted in the distinct style of your tribe. "You're not from mine," he replied, a note of curiosity creeping into his tone.

Your dragons were circling overhead now, Storm's frantic roars mixing with the Night Fury's calmer chirps. They descended together, landing heavily on the sand—Storm with a thunderous thud that sent sand spraying, the Night Fury with an almost silent grace that seemed impossible for a creature of its size. Immediately Storm rushed to you, nudging you with her snout, letting out worried whines that vibrated through her entire body.

"I'm fine," you told her, pressing your forehead to her scales. They were cool and smooth against your skin, grounding you. "I'm fine, just shaken."

She rumbled, unconvinced, and shot a glare at the strange dragon and his strange rider. Her tail lashed behind her, a clear warning.

The Night Fury looked entirely unbothered. It sat back on its haunches, tilting its massive head, watching the scene unfold with what could only be described as amusement gleaming in its luminous green eyes.

The boy stepped forward hesitantly, his hands raised slightly in a placating gesture. "I'm really sorry about that. He didn't see you, neither did I. We were just—"

"Flying," you finished, finally finding your voice properly. "I know, I was too."

You both stood there, awkward and breathless, the only sounds the gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the heavy breathing of your dragons as they continued to eye each other warily. The air was thick with salt and the lingering adrenaline of your near-fall.

You tilted your head, your gaze falling upon the small crest that resided on the chestpiece of his leather armour. The design was familiar: a stylised dragon in mid-dive, wings swept back, surrounded by interlocking rings. You'd seen it before, in old texts, in stories told by traveling merchants. But you couldn't place your finger on it exactly.

"What village—"

"—are you from?"

You both asked in unison, and you noticed the slight reddening of his cheeks whilst his hand reached up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. The gesture was endearing, you realised, despite yourself.

"You go first," you said, completely unmoving as you felt Storm press closer to your side, her warmth a comforting presence against the cool night air. Your hand came to rest on her scales, fingers tracing the familiar ridges.

"Uh—Berk. I'm from Berk."

The name caused a sudden jog in your memory. The living legend of the boy who tamed a Night Fury. More specifically, the chief's son who had done so. The stories had travelled far—across the archipelago, through every trading post and fishing village. A scrawny boy who had brought down the most feared dragon in existence, only to befriend it. Who had changed his tribe's ways, who had united dragons and Vikings.

Your eyes widened, darting between the boy who stood in front of you and his dragon, who was now standing rather confidently, chest puffed out as if aware of its own legendary status.

"Chief's son?" You asked, despite already knowing the answer.

You watched him turn his head and let out a sigh of discontent as the Night Fury's ears lowered at its rider's reaction. He seemed almost embarrassed by the title, like it was a weight he carried rather than a badge of honour.

"I prefer Seonghyeon," he finally answered, his face turning back towards you, and you realised in that moment that the boy standing before you was actually very handsome—the kind that was hard to find in your own village. The moonlight caught the angles of his face, casting shadows that made him look like something out of a saga.

You maintained eye contact, attempting not to waver under his intense stare. "Well, Seonghyeon, can I ask why you were flying within the borders of my village?"

His eyebrow arched up just a fraction at your comment, his lips curving into a slight smirk that was entirely too confident for someone who had just crashed into you. "Last I checked—" his hand rose to point at the large rock formation in the distance, barely visible through the dark night sky "—the Speed Stinger islands belonged to the Isle of Berk. So technically, you were the one over the border."

"Unfortunately, you're incorrect." You crossed your arms over your chest as you answered, shifting your weight onto one leg. The motion caused your cloak to fall back, revealing the emblem of your tribe stitched into your tunic. "Those formations are under the Askeblad map, and therefore belong to the Hymir tribe, not the Hooligan tribe."

You watched his eyebrow twitch at your naming of his tribe. The Night Fury took a few steps forward in a challenging manner, its massive form suddenly seeming even larger in the moonlight. Storm growled in response, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through the sand beneath your feet. Her scales bristled, and you could feel her muscles coiling beneath your hand.

Seonghyeon raised his arm to signal his dragon to stand down, and you watched as he attempted to suppress a smile that was invading his features—clearly taking this situation far less seriously than a chief's son likely should. The Night Fury huffed but backed down, though its eyes remained fixed on Storm with predatory curiosity.

"If that is what you would like to believe, then so be it." He flashed you a smile, and you could only furrow your brows at the gesture. There was something disarming about it, something that made it hard to stay properly angry. "I'll make sure to stay away from it next time."

You stared him down for a few moments longer in utter confusion. This was quite literally the strangest boy you think you'd ever met. You didn't recall your own chief's son being quite so weird—he was entirely more egotistical with far less care for anyone but himself. So what on earth was going on in Berk for the heir to turn out like… that? 

"Okay…" You dragged out, shifting to face Storm in an attempt to free yourself from his rather intimidating stare. "Well, I'll be on my way now."

You slung yourself back onto the saddle so quickly that Seonghyeon couldn't process your words until you were already up in the air, Storm's powerful wings propelling you both skyward. You didn't look back, though you felt his gaze on you like a physical weight.

Below, Seonghyeon stood on the island, watching you go with a strange glint in his eye. His Night Fury growled, shifting its head forward so its muzzle pushed against his arm. He turned, suddenly pulled out of whatever thought was consuming his mind, now coming face to face with a very judgmental dragon.

"What?" Seonghyeon questioned, pulling a face at the Night Fury before turning back to look at your retreating figure with a slight smile. "She was quite feisty."

The Night Fury let out a teasing growl, turning and plodding away towards the edge, preparing to take off again.

"Hey, hey! Wait up, don't leave me here!" He quickly ran after his dragon, though the image of your hardened face still plagued his mind: the sharp set of your jaw, the fire in your eyes, the way you'd stood your ground against him despite knowing exactly who he was.

You stayed far, far away from those islands for a few days, even by not flying with Storm during that time, entirely weirded out by the boy who had saved you by throwing himself off his own dragon.

Storm became restless at that. Her entire routine was built around your nightly sneaking out, and your father began to notice.

"Feed Storm less. She's far too energetic at the moment," your father commanded at the dinner table, his voice brooking no argument. You simply nodded in response, staring at the untouched food on your plate. You had learned long ago that arguing with him got you nowhere. He was the chief's right hand, a warrior of legendary status, and his word was law in your household.

Instead, you snuck out of your room that night, scaling the roof of your family's dragon paddock until the familiar sound of snoring erupted beneath you. You reached your hand below, your fingers wrapping around the protective rope, before throwing yourself over and slinging yourself through, landing right in front of Storm with a soft thud.

She jumped at the sudden noise, her eyes shooting open and locking onto you before they softened almost immediately. A small whine escaped her: an obvious complaint about your lack of appearances the previous nights. Her tail thumped against the ground, stirring up hay.

"I know, I know." You whispered, reaching out to allow your hand to caress her scales. They were warm beneath your palm, familiar. "Do you want to go for a ride?"

She perked up instantly, jumping onto her feet and surging forward to lick you. Her saliva smoothed across your face as you groaned, trying to push her massive head away. "Storm, no. That's disgusting."

She quickly moved, nudging her nose under the saddle so it sat atop her muzzle and bringing it towards you with an eager chirp.

You quickly set up, slinging yourself onto her with a final grunt before she emerged through the open pen, expanding her wings and finally setting off into the night. The wind was cool against your face, washing away the frustration of the day.

The wind soared past, your hair billowing under its weight as Storm cut through the skies. The stars were brilliant overhead, scattered across the darkness like diamonds on black velvet. The moon was fuller than it had been a few nights ago, casting silver light across the sea below.

You paid little mind to the direction, allowing her to take control as she did a few barrel rolls, letting out a small screech at the sound of your laugh. It felt good to be free again, to feel the wind in your hair and the world spread out beneath you.

Eventually, you saw a set of very familiar islands appear on the horizon.

Your stomach dropped.

The very islands you had essentially argued with a chief's son over, that you later discovered were actually under Berk's territory and only remained on your tribe's historical maps from previous ownership, were approaching you at rapid pace.

Storm angled towards them without hesitation, her wings tilting to catch the wind whilst you sighed internally, already working out what she was up to. 

You soon pulled onto the centre island, Storm perching herself onto the edge of a rocky outcropping that jutted out over the water. You slid off, your boots finding solid ground as you walked to the very edge, looking out onto the view.

The sea stretched before you, dark and endless, the moonlight painting silver trails across its surface. You sat down heavily, your legs dangling over the edge, and Storm curled up behind you, her warm body pressing against your back like a living wall.

You let out a long breath, your shoulders finally relaxing after days of tension, all of it fading into the background as you watched the waves roll in.

It was peaceful and quiet, a reprieve you had spent days searching for.

Then you heard it.

The distinct sound of dragon wings cutting through the air: steady, powerful and all too familiar.

You turned your head, already knowing what you'd see, and there it was: a Night Fury, its dark form almost invisible against the night sky, descending towards the island with practiced ease. It landed a few feet away, its massive claws scraping against the rock, its luminous green eyes fixed on Storm with what could only be described as friendly recognition.

Storm chirped in greeting, her tail thumping against the ground.

You turned back to the view, your expression carefully neutral.

Seonghyeon slid off his dragon's back, his boots landing softly on the rock. You could feel his gaze on you, warm and searching, and you knew he was wearing that insufferable smirk of his that made your stomach flip and your cheeks warm the first time you saw it, even when you were trying your hardest to be annoyed.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of looking at him.

"I thought you said you'd stay away from these islands," you said flatly, your eyes fixed on the horizon.

You heard him huff a quiet laugh, the sound carrying across the space between you. Footsteps approached, and then he was settling down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. He sat cross-legged, his knee brushing just slightly against your thigh.

"I lied," he said simply, his voice light and unrepentant.

You finally turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "I didn’t think a chief's son was allowed to be deceitful."

He tilted his head back at you, a teasing glint in his eye. "I am not the son of your chief."

You could only stare at him for that comment, your eyes narrowing as he just maintained eye contact, that infuriating smirk playing at his lips. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, and you hated how your heart stuttered at the sight.

"Too right," you eventually replied, turning back to look at the view whilst still feeling his gaze on you. It was warm, persistent, like a physical weight against your skin. You stared resolutely at the horizon, refusing to acknowledge the flutter in your chest.

Seonghyeon didn't say anything. He just sat beside you, his presence steady and comforting, and let the silence stretch between you. It wasn't awkward strangely, it was comfortable, like you'd known each other for years instead of days.

Your meetings gradually became a routine. Any night your father angered you—which was often—you'd sneak into Storm's paddock and be off on your way.

There was no true rhythm to your spontaneous trips. Some nights you arrived early, the sun barely having set beyond the horizon. Other nights you came late, the moon already high overhead and the stars scattered like diamonds across the darkness. It didn't matter. Every time you arrived, Seonghyeon would be there without fail.

He was always waiting.

Sometimes he'd be tending to a small fire, the flames casting dancing shadows across his face. Other times he'd be sitting on the edge of the rocky outcropping, staring out at the sea, his Night Fury curled up behind him. Once, you arrived to find him lying on his back in the sand, his arms folded behind his head, watching the stars wheel overhead with an expression of quiet wonder.

"You always know when I'm coming," you said that night, settling down beside him.

He turned his head, his dark eyes finding yours in the darkness. "I don't, I just wait every night." He shrugged, like it was nothing. "Eventually you show up."

You stared at him, something warm and unfamiliar blooming in your chest. "That's insane. You can't just wait here every single night."

"I can." He sat up, brushing sand from his tunic. "And I do."

"But what if I don't come?"

"Then I wait the next night." He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You let out a scoff in disbelief, shaking your head gently as you turned to look back at the stars whilst mumbling to yourself. “Such a weirdo.”

Though the rapid beating of your heart said you believed otherwise.

Other nights commenced with much more physical activity.

One of these times, Seonghyeon had somehow convinced you to try riding his Night Fury, who you now learned was called Toothless.

"Absolutely not," you said, backing away with your hands raised. "That's a Night Fury, the most dangerous dragon in existence, the one that's been the subject of every nightmare I've ever had."

"He's not dangerous," Seonghyeon said, patting Toothless's snout affectionately. The dragon leaned into the touch, making a sound that was suspiciously like a purr. "Look at him, he's a big softie."

"He just sneezed fire three inches from my face."

"He was excited and you were taking too long to decide."

You stared at him, utterly incredulous. "I'm not getting on that dragon."

"Scared?" Seonghyeon's lips curved into that infuriating smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Of course I'm scared! I have a healthy sense of self-preservation, unlike some people."

"Come on." He walked over, his hands outstretched. "I'll be right behind you, I won't let anything happen to you."

You looked at his hands, then at Toothless who was watching you with those luminous green eyes, his head tilted in curiosity, then back at Seonghyeon's face, open and earnest.

"You promise?" You asked, hating how small your voice sounded.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your hand, a gesture he had slowly been introducing across the many evenings you spent in his presence. "I promise."

You took a deep breath and then, very slowly, you walked towards Toothless. The dragon watched you approach, his tail swishing gently against the sand. When you were close enough to touch, he leaned forward and sniffed you, his breath warm against your face.

"See?" Seonghyeon said, appearing beside you. "He likes you."

"He tolerates me."

"Better than nothing."

You shot him a look, but you were already reaching out, your fingers brushing against Toothless's scales. They were smoother than you'd expected, almost warm, vibrating faintly with the hum of his breathing. He leaned into your touch, and you felt something loosen in your chest.

"Okay," you said quietly. "Okay. I'll try."

Getting onto Toothless was an experience.

The saddle was different from Storm's: sleeker, more streamlined, designed for speed rather than stability. Seonghyeon helped you up, his hands firm on your waist as he guided you into position. Then he swung up behind you, his chest pressing against your back, his arms reaching around you to grip the reins.

"Ready?" He murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"No," you said honestly.

"Too late." He clicked his tongue, and Toothless launched into the air.

You screamed instantly, and it wasn't a dignified scream by any means. It was a full-throated, eyes-clenched, fingers-digging-into-the-saddle scream that echoed across the island. The wind howled past your ears, and the ground fell away beneath you, and you were absolutely certain you were going to die.

But then you felt Seonghyeon prod your side and you opened your eyes.

The world was spread out beneath you, a tapestry of silver and black. The stars were closer than you'd ever seen them, scattered across the sky like diamonds on velvet. The sea stretched to the horizon, dark and endless, and the wind was cool against your face.

"Oh," you breathed.

Seonghyeon's laugh rumbled against your back. "Oh? That's all you have to say?"

You didn't answer. You were too busy staring, too busy taking in the impossible beauty of it all. Toothless banked smoothly, his wings cutting through the air, and you felt a thrill of pure, unfiltered joy.

That seemed to become a reoccurring emotion that consumed your being whenever you were in Seonghyeon’s presence.

The weeks passed, and your meetings became the highlight of your existence.

You'd fly to the island, and Seonghyeon would be there, always with that same soft smile and a stolen bundle of food. You'd talk for hours, or sometimes not at all, just sitting together in comfortable silence, watching the stars wheel overhead.

And every time, without fail, you felt that same thrill of joy.

It was ridiculous, really. You barely knew him—you'd only known him for a few weeks—but somehow, he felt more familiar than anyone you'd known your whole life. He understood you in a way that no one else did, saw past the walls you'd built so carefully, and never once asked you to be anything other than exactly who you were.

Still, there was always an undercurrent to every meeting of yours, a reminder that your worlds were not meant to intersect. You were from Hymir, a tribe that valued tradition and strength above all else. He was from Berk, a tribe that had once been your people's greatest rivals. The maps you'd argued about on that very first night were just a small symbol of the larger divide between your two villages—a divide that had existed for generations, carved into the very bones of your histories.

You never talked about it directly. Neither of you wanted to spoil the fragile bubble you'd built together. But it was there, lurking beneath every laugh and every touch. The knowledge that this couldn't last forever, and that eventually, you'd have to face the reality of who you were and where you came from.

One morning, you woke to the sound of commotion echoing through the village.

It was earlier than you usually rose, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. You blinked groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and listened. Footsteps, shouted orders, it was the unmistakable sound of preparations being made.

You dressed quickly and made your way down to the main hall, your heart pounding with a strange sense of foreboding.

You eventually found your father standing in the center of the room, his armour polished and gleaming. He was directing a group of warriors, his voice sharp and commanding, his posture rigid with authority. As one of the chief's most trusted warriors, he was always at the center of these preparations, his opinion valued above almost all others.

"Father?" You called, stepping into the room. "What's happening?"

He turned, his eyes landing on you. They were cold, assessing, the same way they always were. "You're awake. Good. I need you to be presentable by midday."

You frowned. "Presentable? For what?"

He gestured vaguely towards the door. "The Hooligan tribe is arriving for diplomatic relations. Their chief and his heir are coming to discuss trade agreements and border disputes. Their warriors will be accompanying them, of course. We've prepared the great hall for the meeting."

Your blood ran cold.

Their chief and his heir. Seonghyeon's father and Seonghyeon himself.

"Here?" You managed, your voice surprisingly steady. "They're coming here? To Hymir?"

"To discuss terms." Your father's expression was unreadable. "It's been long overdue. The Hooligans have been making overtures for months, and the chief agreed it was time to hear them out. We're not at war anymore, it's time to act like it."

You nodded, your mind racing. "And the heir—he's coming too?"

"Of course. He'll be the chief someday, he needs to learn how these things work." Your father's eyes narrowed, studying you. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." You forced a smile, hoping it looked natural. "I've just heard stories about him, that's all. The dragon tamer. The one who befriended a Night Fury."

Your father scoffed, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. "Stories. They're just stories, girl. No need to fill your head with such nonsense." He turned away, already barking orders at a passing warrior. "Be ready by midday, and wear something appropriate. You'll be seated with the other warriors' children. The chief wants to show we are a united front."

You nodded, retreating from the room before he could see the panic rising in your chest.

You spent the rest of the morning pacing in your quarters, your mind spinning.

Seonghyeon was coming here to your village—to your home. He would walk through your gates, and you would be expected to greet him like a stranger, to bow and smile and pretend that you'd never seen him before.

You didn't know how you were going to get through it. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face, heard his laugh, felt his arms around you. How were you supposed to look at him without betraying everything you felt?

By midday, you had dressed in your finest tunic, your hair braided neatly, your expression carefully composed. You joined your father at the village gates, standing beside your mother, your hands clasped tightly behind your back. Around you, the other warriors and their families had gathered, forming an impressive display of Hymir's strength and unity.

Then you saw them.

A procession of dragons descending from the sky, their forms silhouetted against the midday sun. They landed one by one on the outskirts of the village, their riders dismounting with practiced ease. Warriors in dark leather armour, their expressions stoic and watchful, flanked their chief and his son.

At the front, on a sleek black Night Fury, was Seonghyeon.

He was dressed in his finest leather armour, his dark hair swept back from his face. He looked every inch the chief's son: confident, composed, untouchable. But when his eyes found yours across the crowd, you saw something flicker in their depths: recognition and longing all in one look.

You held his gaze for just a moment. Then you looked away, your heart pounding.

The great hall was packed.

Long tables had been arranged in a U-shape, laden with food and drink. The chief of Hymir sat at the head, your father seated at his right hand, a position of great honour, a testament to his years of loyal service. Your mother sat further down, with the other warriors' wives. Across from them sat Seonghyeon's father, a mountain of a man with a booming voice and a warm, weathered face, and beside him was Seonghyeon himself.

The warriors of both tribes were positioned at the tables around them, their postures rigid, their eyes watchful. You could feel the tension in the air, the weight of centuries of conflict pressing down on the room.

You sat at one of the side tables, positioned with the other warriors' children. Close enough to observe, far enough to be invisible. It was where you always sat during diplomatic meetings: a silent observer, a reminder of your family's legacy.

But today, you couldn't focus on the proceedings. You couldn't focus on anything except the boy sitting across the hall, his dark hair falling across his forehead, his hands folded neatly on the table in front of him.

Seonghyeon was so close, close enough that you could see the tension in his shoulders, the careful neutrality of his expression. Close enough that you could see his eyes flicker towards you, just for a moment, before snapping back to his father.

You looked away, your fingers digging into your palms.

The meeting droned on about trade agreements, border disputes, and alliances, treaties and terms that made your head spin. The chief of Hymir spoke in his usual measured, authoritative tone. Seonghyeon's father responded in kind, his voice warm but firm.

All the while Seonghyeon just sat there, silent and composed, playing the role of the dutiful heir.

You hated watching him like this: so controlled, so distant. You wanted to reach across the table and shake him, to remind him that there was more to life than politics and duty and the weight of expectation.

But you couldn't, so you just sat there with your hands clasped tightly in your lap whilst you watched.

The meeting finally drew to a close as the evening sun began to set, casting long shadows across the hall. The chief of Hymir rose, his voice echoing through the room.

"We will reconvene in the morning to finalise the terms," he announced. "For now, let us eat. Let us remember that we are not enemies, but neighbours."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the hall, and the tension seemed to ease slightly. Warriors began to relax, reaching for food and drink, their voices rising in conversation.

You seized the opportunity.

You slipped away from your table, weaving through the crowd, your heart pounding. You needed to have a moment to yourself, to suppress the very urges that screamed at you to forget all the formalities and just drag him away in front of everyone. The weight of the evening pressed down on you: the watching eyes, the careful distance, the unbearable closeness of him just across the room.

The secluded hallway beside the great hall welcomed you as you leaned back against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief. The stone was cool against your back, and you closed your eyes, willing your racing heart to slow.

"Couldn't stay there either, hm?"

Your eyes snapped open.

Seonghyeon was standing in front of you, his figure silhouetted against the dim torchlight. He'd shed his formal outer cloak, and his tunic was slightly untucked, like he'd been running his hands through his clothes in frustration. His dark hair was even more disheveled than usual, falling across his forehead in messy waves.

"Seonghyeon—" you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his hand moving to rest on your waist, his fingers splaying across the fabric of your tunic. The warmth of his palm seeped through the material, and you felt your breath catch. This was the closest you'd ever been to him: closer than the island, closer than the flights, closer than any stolen moment before.

"You looked so beautiful tonight," he murmured, his voice low, meant only for you. "Sitting there, all composed and untouchable. Do you know how hard it was to keep my eyes off you?"

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs. "It was the same for me. I wanted to—"

"Drag me away in front of everyone?" His lips curved into that infuriating, familiar smirk. "I know, I could see it in your eyes."

His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer. Your hands came up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms: fast, just like yours.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "About you. About how much I wanted to just—"

He didn't finish the sentence. His eyes dropped to your lips, and you saw something shift in his expression.

You felt your own cheeks flush, and you realised your eyes had dropped to his lips too.

"Seonghyeon—" you started, but you didn't know what you were going to say.

"Can I kiss you?"

The words came out rushed, almost desperate, as though he'd been holding them in for too long. His hand on your waist trembled slightly, and you realised he was just as scared as you were.

"I've wanted to," he continued, his voice rough. "For weeks. Every night on that island, every time you laughed, every time you looked at me—I wanted to kiss you. But I didn't know if you wanted—"

"Yes."

The word came out before you could stop it, quiet but certain, and his eyes widened.

"Yes?" He repeated, almost disbelieving.

"Yes, you idiot," you said, a smile tugging at your lips despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I've been waiting for you to ask."

He let out a breath, something between a laugh and a sigh of relief, tthen his hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting your face towards his, and he leaned in.

His lips brushed against yours softly, like he was testing the waters. You felt the warmth of his breath, the gentle pressure of his mouth, and you thought your heart might burst out of your chest.

Then he pulled back, just slightly, his eyes searching yours.

"Okay?" He murmured.

You nodded, unable to speak, and he moved to kiss you again.

This time it was deeper, more certain. His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency, and you responded instinctively, your hands fisting in his tunic, pulling him closer. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, and you felt like you were drowning in him—in the warmth, the softness, the incredible rightness of it all.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. His forehead rested against yours, and you could feel his smile against your skin.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes shining. "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

"Why didn't you?" You asked, your voice soft.

He shrugged, a little sheepish. "I was scared. You're—" He paused, searching for the right words. "You're the most incredible person I've ever met. I didn't want to mess this up."

"You could never mess this up," you said, reaching up to touch his cheek. "Seonghyeon, I—"

But you didn't get to finish because footsteps suddenly echoed from the end of the hallway.

Both your eyes widened. Seonghyeon's head snapped towards the sound, and you felt a jolt of pure adrenaline shoot through your veins. The footsteps were getting closer, heavy and deliberate, a warrior's stride no doubt.

Without thinking, Seonghyeon grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the nearest alcove: a small, built-in cupboard used for storing extra linens and supplies. He yanked the door open and practically shoved you inside, following close behind.

The space was impossibly small.

You were pressed together in the darkness, his body flush against yours, his hand clamped firmly over your mouth. The stone of the wall was at your back, and his chest was pressed against your front, his heart hammering as fast as yours.

His forehead fell onto yours, his eyes squeezed shut.

The footsteps grew louder before then stopping.

The door to the cupboard rattled slightly, and you saw the outline of a figure through the crack: a Hymir warrior, broad-shouldered and imposing. He was standing right there, just on the other side of the thin wood.

You sucked in a mere breath, freezing completely.

Seonghyeon's hand pressed harder against your mouth, his fingers trembling slightly. His eyes were still closed, his jaw tight, bracing for the inevitable.

The warrior stood there for what felt like an eternity. You could hear him grunt, the sound deep and considering. He shuffled slightly, and you felt Seonghyeon tense even further, his body becoming rigid against yours.

Then, with another grunt, the warrior turned. His footsteps retreated, growing fainter and fainter until they disappeared entirely.

Neither of you moved.

You were still pressed together in the darkness, Seonghyeon's hand still clamped over your mouth, his forehead still resting against yours. His eyes were open now, dark and wide, staring into yours with an intensity that stole your breath.

Slowly, carefully, he removed his hand from your mouth.

"That was close," he breathed, his voice barely audible.

You couldn't speak—you could barely breathe. Your eyes were locked on his, and the darkness seemed to pulse around you, enclosing you in this small, secret space.

Seonghyeon's hand moved from your mouth to your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin. His forehead was still pressed against yours, and you could feel his breath mingling with yours.

"I should let you go," he murmured.

"You should," you agreed, but neither of you moved.

"Your father would kill me if he found us like this."

"He would."

"And my father would probably help him."

"Probably."

He laughed and the breath of air tickled your lips. "We're idiots."

"Complete idiots."

And then, before you could process anything, he kissed you again.

His lips were warm and insistent against yours, and you responded immediately, your hands sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss deepened, and you forgot where you were; forgot about the feast; forgot about the warriors, the diplomacy, the danger. All that existed was him: the taste of honey and mead on his lips, the softness of his hair beneath your fingers.

"Seonghyeon," you breathed when you finally broke apart, your foreheads still touching. “Our families—”

"I know," he murmured, his voice rough. "I know. We shouldn't be doing this."

"We really shouldn't."

But neither of you pulled away. His thumb traced your jawline, and you could feel his heart racing against your chest.

"I don't want to wait until the next time I can see you," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I want to stay here with you forever."

You laughed softly, the sound shaky. "That's a long time to be in a cupboard."

"Worth it." He pressed another soft kiss to your lips. "So worth it."

You smiled against his mouth. "We're going to get caught."

"Probably."

"And then we're going to be in so much trouble."

"Definitely." He kissed you again. "But I don't care."

You were about to respond when distant voices echoed from the end of the hallway. Both of you tensed, listening. The feast was evidently winding down and that meant people would be moving about soon.

"We have to go," you whispered reluctantly.

"I know." He pressed his forehead to yours one last time. "Tonight, I want to see you."

"I'll find you." You reached up, brushing a strand of dark hair from his forehead. "Be careful."

"You too."

You slipped out of the cupboard first, checking the hallway before beckoning him out. He emerged, his tunic rumpled, his lips reddened, and his eyes shining in the dim torchlight.

"You look thoroughly kissed," you observed, a smile tugging at your lips.

"So do you." He grinned, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "I'll see you tonight."

Before you could answer he was gone, disappearing around the corner before anyone could see him.

You stood there for a moment, your heart racing, your lips still tingling. Then you smoothed down your tunic, took a deep breath, and walked back into the great hall.

The feast was still in full swing, but no one seemed to have noticed your absence. Your mother gave you a curious look, but you just smiled and returned to your seat.

That night you waited until the village fell silent.

The guest house where the Berk delegation was staying sat at the edge of the village, a sturdy building reserved for important visitors. You'd watched it from your window for hours, counting the torches as they were extinguished one by one, waiting for the last sounds of conversation to fade into the night.

When the moon was high overhead and the village was finally asleep, you moved.

You slipped out of your room, your bare feet silent against the wooden floors. You'd changed into darker clothing: a simple tunic and trousers that would help you blend into the shadows. Your heart was pounding so loudly you were certain someone would hear it.

The village was eerily quiet as you made your way through the winding paths. The only sounds were the distant snoring of dragons and the gentle lapping of the sea against the shore. You kept to the shadows, your footsteps light and careful.

The guest house loomed ahead, its windows dark. You circled around to the back, finding the spot you'd scouted earlier: a sturdy trellis that led up to the second floor. You climbed quickly, your fingers finding purchase on the rough wood.

The window you'd identified as Seonghyeon’s room was the third from the left. You'd watched him enter it earlier that evening through the opening, his father's hand on his shoulder, his expression carefully neutral.

You tapped on the glass, three quick knocks.

The window slid open after a few moments, and Seonghyeon's face appeared in the gap. His eyes were dark and surprised, but a slow smile spread across his lips when he saw you.

"You came," he whispered.

"Did you doubt me?"

He laughed softly, reaching out to help you through the window. His hands were warm on your waist as he guided you inside, and you landed softly on the wooden floor.

"I didn't doubt you," he murmured, his voice low. "I just—I couldn't believe it. That you'd really come."

You smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I told you I would."

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "I know. I just—" He shook his head, a soft laugh escaping him. "I'm still getting used to the fact that you're real."

"I'm very real," you assured him. "And I'm about to do something very reckless."

His eyebrows rose. "Reckless how?"

You grinned, pulling him towards the window. "We're going out."

"Now? But my dragon—"

"We're not taking the dragons." You paused at the window, looking back at him. "We're walking."

Sneaking Seonghyeon through the village was perhaps the most terrifying thing you'd ever done.

You moved like shadows, keeping to the darkness, avoiding the occasional torchlight that flickered in the night. Seonghyeon followed close behind you, his hand clasped tightly in yours. Every time you heard a sound—a creak, a whisper of wind—you froze, your hearts beating in unison.

"Where are we going?" He breathed, his lips close to your ear.

"You'll see," you whispered back. "Trust me."

"I trust you." His hand squeezed yours.

You led him past the dragon pens, past the great hall, past the warriors' quarters. The village gave way to forest, the familiar trees rising up to greet you like old friends. The path grew narrower, winding through the underbrush, and you could hear the distant sound of rushing water.

The sound of water grew louder as you pushed through the final stretch of trees, until the forest opened up, revealing the most beautiful sight you'd ever seen.

The waterfall cascaded down a sheer rock face, plunging into a crystal-clear pool that shimmered in the moonlight. The water sparkled like liquid silver, and the air was cool and misty, carrying the scent of moss and stone. Bioluminescent flowers lined the banks, casting a soft, ethereal glow across the clearing.

Seonghyeon stopped at the edge of the pool, his eyes wide with wonder.

"This is—" He turned to you, his expression soft. "Y/N..."

You nodded at his silence in understanding, stepping closer to him. "This is where I come when Storm is too tired to fly out to you."

There was a long pause before he breathed a sigh, for what you didn’t know, but you watched as his eyes scanned your features.

“You don’t know…” He paused momentarily, reaching his hand up until his palm found your cheek, “how beautiful you look in this light.”

Your breath caught in your throat. His palm was warm against your skin, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"Seonghyeon—" you started, but the words died in your throat.

"I mean it." His voice was barely above a whisper, rough with emotion. "Every time I see you, I think you can't possibly get more beautiful, and then you prove me wrong."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "You're ridiculous."

"I know." He smiled, that soft, vulnerable smile that made your stomach flip, "buut I mean every word."

You stared into his eyes for a moment longer before surging forward, your lips crashing onto his before you felt him let out a sudden gasp before smiling into the kiss.

He tilted his head, deepening it slightly as the hand resting on your cheek slid to your hair, cupping the back of your head, all whilst his free hand curved around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

The water continued to cascade from the rocks, its meeting with the faint lights casting an almost halo around the two of you. The mist rose around your feet like a soft cloud, and the bioluminescent flowers seemed to glow brighter, as if they too were celebrating this moment.

The island's heart beat for you: a native to its ancient soils. Every stone, every tree, every whispering leaf knew your footsteps, recognised the rhythm of your breath, and now as you stood wrapped in the arms of a boy from across the sea the island seemed to hum with approval—like it had been waiting for this moment all along.

Your arrangement with the strange boy who had saved you from the sky may have been complicated, but you knew with absolute certainty that it was the most real thing you had ever felt, and no historical border, no tribal allegiance, no ancient grudge carved into the bones of your ancestors could stop you from finding him again and again.

.✦ ݁˖ Martin .✦ ݁˖

QUEST #1 HOW TO BAG FINESHYT@flwrhui

Martin has been (choosingly!!) single his whole life and is fully convinced that he doesn't need a girl (or so he thought). Enter Seonghyeon's sister, who just finished studying from abroad, is freshly broken up, and wants nothing to do with men for the rest of her life. A girl that's hot, lowkey a bitch, and doesn't want him at all? Fuck, that's just his type.

Martin x seonghyeon’s sister reader

smau

I CAN’T BE YOURS BABY,KNOW I BE ON TOUR CRAZY @ramenoil

ending up as Martin's stylist while interning at HYBE for your portfolio sure did lead you somewhere.

idol!martin x intern-stylist!f!reader

smau

personal fav !

I WISH YOU ROSES @reinxoxz

Martin keeps going back to the same flower shop to buy his girl flowers, what are the chances of the kind old man who’s selling him those pretty flowers for a suspiciously cheap price being the father of the love of his life

smau

PLOT TWIST @hyuneskkami

the chronicles of idiot!martin 𝔁 idiot!student council vp!reader where he leaves her physical handwritten love letter on delivered for a week.

smau

MAKE HIM JEALOUS @outsiddaline

In order to get your crush, Martin, to notice you, you ask your boy best friend Niki (ENHYPEN) to catfish him, by pretending you’re dating. Thankfully for you, Martin’s an idiot who believes anything he sees, and doesn’t get demotivated.

down bad! martin x down bad! reader

smau

FUCK THEY’RE SHIPPING US @kaikaikoi

when they ship you with your best friend instead of his fine shyt ass hb

BSF!MARTIN, IDOL!READER &MARTIN / platonic

smau

TEENAGE DIRTBAG ! @itaiyaki Y/N L/N got dumped, but she’s far from defeated. She’s scheming, and Martin Edwards— loud, chaotic, and just impossible to ignore, is her secret weapon. Alternatively: the full love story behind how rodrick! martin and regina! reader end up together

rodrick! martin x regina! reader

word count : 9.3k

UNTITLED @carisd

When keonhos older sister returns to Korea after studying abroad, she catches the eye of a certain someone—martin.

non idol!martin! x keonhos older sister! reader!

smau

SOLD AGAIN ? @lemongularly

running a curated thrift isn’t easy work, especially when ur co admin is the human anatomy of a fashion freak and keeps bagging clothes that are meant to be sold. but maybe you’ll let it slide this time when you see a familiar user trying to buy some clothes

ex!martinedwards x petty!reader

smau

personal fav !

PATHETIC @lovzy7

In which - You, a young songwriter, are brought in to help CORTIS; one of the hottest K-pop groups right now; with a chorus for their new album, GREENGREEN... but you immediately clash with the group's leader, Martin, who quickly becomes your biggest enemy

word count : 1.2k

LETTERS @vcrarw

One day, you decide it’s a good idea to send a letter to one of your favorite K-pop idols to vent, thinking it was just to let your feelings out and that it would never actually reach him, but when you stop sending your weekly letters, everything changes.

PLEASE REMAIN SEATED @eomagahd

In which Martin discovers that you’re alot less patient than you look, and you discover that detention is somehow worse with company.

troublemaker martin x class president reader

word count : 3.5k

MR STEAL YOUR GIRL AKA MARTIN EDWARDS @lettheleavesflow

Martin has been watching you get treat like shit by your boyfriend for months, just waiting for a chance to treat you better. But, what happens when he finally gets the chance?.

TOMODACHI DREAM BOY ?! @tanghuyuj

in which martin looks exactly like the boy of your dreams that you made in tomodachi life. oh—and social media (as well as your friends) love watching this unfold!

influencer!martin x gn!non-idol!reader

smau

personal fav !

WHEN YOU GO LOW , HE GOES LOWER @eu4mi

after snapping at him ( and feeling guilty about it ), martin makes sure to make you more miserable than you’d ever expect, despite your apology.

#FAN-MAXING @bananagirl222

you’ve been a fan of martins music since before he was on all streaming platforms, since before he was doing live performances and headlining for famous artists. And one day he suddenly deleted your favorite niche song of his off all platforms and you thought the best thing to do is to DM him about it, even though you knew he would never see it in the floods of all his DMs.

Rapper!Martin x fan!Reader

smau

________

.✦ ݁˖ James .✦ ݁˖

IRREPLACEABLE YOU @ptolemaeiia

in which, you’re irreplaceable to him, tattoos from your spine that drop down to your ankles, he’s learned them all under his fingertips. OR a drabble about James’ obsession with your tattoos.

James x fem reader

word count : 1k

THINKING ABOUT YOU @eub11ss

In which, you lose your favourite chapstick in the process of cheering for your crush. Fateful enough, your crush has it. And oh lucky you! he is gonna use every opportunity that comes out of it to make you his, no matter how many obstacles come in the way!

football player!james x idol!reader

smau

OOMF ! @ceuxnoirst

in which James is your stan acc oomf on twitter during pandemic days, and once you retrieved the account you suddenly remember him and start talking for a while again, not knowing he's a k-pop idol already.

idol!james x non-idol! reader

smau HIGHKEY MISS U @flwrhui

james's ig story posts + results after the break up (clue: he lowk still wants u)

james x fem reader

smau

personal fav !

AGAIN ? THEYRE SHIPPING US @kaikaikoi

after a messy breakup, the last thing you wanted was to see your fans shipping you and your (gorgeous) ex once again

idol james x fem reader

smau

MAKIN' IT HAPPEN @freudianne

in which you’re the reason behind why blond James is happening right now

james x hairstylist!reader

DO YOU NOTICE ME ? @i-kai

in which james exposes the instagram stories he posted to catch your attention before bagging you.

nonidol!james x reader

smau

SNAP OUT OF IT @soupysnoopy1

you and james were joint at the hip. all your friends saw it, the way you looked at each other, the lack of boundaries, the genuine connection. throughout heartbreaks, bad dates and long days, you found each other at the end of it all. you both had a track record of shortlived flings, however, when you get in a proper relationship for the first time ever and leave james behind, he wonders why he cares this much, and gets antsy waiting for you to snap out of it.

james x f!reader

word count : 5k

LMK @llbambi

your boyfriend messed up so his friend takes his chance and steps up.

student!james x fem!student!reader

smau

SO OBVIOUS @jjuhyeon

you and your boyfriend james aren’t even attempting to keep your relationships a secret.

smau

ALL MINE @itaiyaki

pictures the members send you of your boyfriend

smau

EVERYBODY HERE WANTS YOU @teacuplps

crashing out over how everyone on twitter is suddenly also in love with your boyfriend

smau

HE DOES WHATEVER A SPIDER CAN @checkitoffsodapop

texts with your roommate who just might be spider-man.

spiderman!james x reader

smau

NUMBER NEIGHBOUR HIT ME UP @dolliriuo

chipotle scam turns into your chipotle man

smau

personal fav !

MOODY’S MOOD FOR LOVE @goobert127

At the YCC university nothing stays private for long, especially when a rumor account is involved. James, a student who plays basketball and loves photography, unknowingly becomes the center of a campus-wide gossip storm. A mysterious orange cat roams the campus, and both James and YN have taken to feeding it at different times.

When the university rumor account notices this coincidence, a story spreads like wildfire: James and YN are secretly dating. However, in reality, They’ve never even met.

Between accidental encounters, awkward misunderstandings, and the small, intimate moments of observing and taking care of the cat, a quiet connection begins to form, a bond born not from the rumor, but from curiosity, shared kindness, and unspoken fascination

smau

THE BLONDE @hyuneskkami

gf!reader reacting to james’ new blond hair.

smau

SECOND-HAND @reinxoxz

James thinks the worst event of his life must be the departure of “trainee A”. Not only did the project fail, but his fellow members are all leaving the company, meaning he will stay alone for a while, until the company decides he’s ready to debut, whatever, maybe it won’t be as lonely as long as she stays, right? Yeah nevermind, she left too..

When her best friend fails to debut under the same company she’s training under, y/n cant help but feel uncertain about her future with HYBE entertainment, so when woochan decides to join TBL entertainment instead, y/n decides to follow her best friend, leaving a very heartbroken trainee behind

smau

YOU’RE PRETTY IN MY MESS @nxllie

ur boyfriend james insists on doing your makeup, and unfortunately he wins the battle.

________

.✦ ݁˖ Juhoon .✦ ݁˖

HOMEWORK METHOD @mijivz

plotting on your classmate with the homework method

TAKE $50 DOLLARS AND GET A PROPER DRINK CHEAPSKATE @ramenoil

It was supposed to be a $5 request to your best friend for a drink. Instead, you accidentally hit up a stranger named Juhoon. He doesn't just pay it—he multiplies it. He even adds a snarky comment: Stop being a cheapskate, you’re not getting shit for $5. One accidental transaction and an americano payback, now Juhoon is suddenly the most interesting person in your notifications. Wrong account, Right person?

juhoon x fem reader

smau

BABY THERE’S NO OTHER SUPERSTAR @teacuplps

juhoon knows how to keep a secret. his only exception? how down bad he is for his favourite niche pop star

idol ! juhoon x girlset’s 5th member

IDIOT OFF COURT ! @kaikaikoi

you being secretly thankful for getting knocked off your feet (quite literally...) by a cute bball player was something your brother saw miles away, long before your dizzy mind registered the fall. cute new guy came with a handful of apologies to make it up to your broken phone, and as much you hated to admit— maybe keonho's stupid friends weren't so stupid after all.

a few convos and a new iphone later, you've found yourself growing familiar with the name dinging on your phone; nights after practice, conversations stretching longer before either of you noticing. somewhere between the wins, losses, and every uncomfortable in-between— you realize you've fallen for an idiot off court.

IN OTHER WORDS . . . your brother should’ve known you have a thing for basketball players before asking for a favor near one

KIM JUHOON × FEM!READER   

smau

personal fav !

KISS IT @achors

You couldn't hide your desire to kiss your cute housemate's soft lips after you got home from a drunk hangout.

Kim Juhoon x Fem!Reader

word count : 1.8k

TURTLE-SITTER @jsxhty

kim juhoon x fem reader

smau

ALL THE LITTLE THINGS @throughyrs

Juhoon has spent years quietly noticing his best friend’s sister without ever realizing how much space she takes up in his thoughts.

juhoon x shy!reader

PLAYER TWO SYNDROME @ptolemaeiia

you befriend a guy on a video game, not knowing he’s a famous idol…

idol! juhoon x reader

smau

CHROME DENIM @angelforpercy

you message a wrong number while trying to argue with your ex.

smau

HE WANTS ME HIGHKEY!! @bananagirl222

You follow Juhoon on Twitter because you found him attractive and you're not really subtle about it, like at all. Which, luckily for you, piques his interest!

Prettyboy!Juhoon x downbad!reader

smau

#RIGHTWHEREHEWANGS2BE @fshionalien

In which you see something you don’t like and bring it up to your boyfriend. thinking it’ll become an argument, you’re only met with the fact that he won’t even fighting back..

smau

GIRLFRIEND TIME @yuesning

waking up in the morning in general is tough enough – but how about waking up with a clingy boyfriend in the morning?

juhoon x f!reader

YOU BURST INSIDE MY HEART @sevony

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒... 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗐 𝗎𝗉?

word count : 0.6k

HOW TO GET A GUY IN 10 DAYS @tmrwsuns

classmate!juhoon x reader

smau

A SUITABLE ARRANGEMENT @cosmiho

To be born a pureblood means you are hounded to pick a perfect suitor of similar position in the wizarding society. Juhoon suggests a simple solution to get your parents off your back: date him, just make sure you don’t catch any feelings.

Hogwarts au !

word count : 11.9k

I’D RATHER LIE THAN LOSE YOU @aesthelia

as in kim juhoon from CORTIS has a crush on KATSEYEs YN and accidentally likes her instagram post on the cortis official account, creating a dating scandal—but not with himself.

smau

HALF FINISHED @eomagahd

juhoon agreed to help you study because your grades were dropping. The moment he does, every formula, definition and vocabulary word disappears from your brain.

word count : 1.7k

GIRL IN THE STANDS @cosmiho

Juhoon has spent months allowing the rumours on if he has a girlfriend or not to spread, hoping the endless barrage of confessions he faces daily would eventually stop. One day he decides he’s finally had enough and chooses to put the rumours to rest.

word count : 3.6k ________

.✦ ݁˖ seonghyeon .✦ ݁˖

UNTITLED @intakki

seonghyeon ends up finding your lost phone and an enemy blossoms…

non idol seonghyeon x fem reader

smau

OVERDRIVE ! @hooniqlo

when keonho posts a picture of his sister and seonghyeon, his bestfriend suddenly forgets how to act.

non idol!eom seonghyeon x keonho's sister!reader

smau personal fav !

PROM ? (THAT'S GREEN GREEN) @shortnsourrr In which Seonghyeon takes you to the prom.

LOVE THE CHASE @yangjwz

𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖺 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗎𝗅, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗅 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

non idol seonghyeon x fem reader

smau

YEARNING IS EARNING !@lowkeonho

 seonghyeon is pathetic and everyone knows it. but, maybe a yearner is exactly what his dream girl had wanted all along 🤔 (aka seonghyeon embarrasses himself and his lil crush is oddly charmed

nonidol!seonghyeon x fem!reader

smau

LUCKY SHOT @eomagahd

After accidentally kicking a football straight into your face, Seonghyeon is prepared to spend the rest of the week apologizing. You meanwhile, discovered that being mildly injured comes with some surprisingly enjoyable perks

classmate!seonghyeon x classmate!reader

word count : 17.6k

I WOULD NEVER @jjuhyeons

you claimed you’d never get back with your ex until it was seonghyeon.

seonghyeon x fem!reader

smau persona fav !

ZOO WE MAMA @jjuhyeon In which you never thought you could be more attracted to your boyfriend until you see him in glasses.

boyfriend seonghyeon x fem!reader

word count : 0.5k

BACK AND FORTH @keotaa

your ex seonghyeon wants you back and do absolutely nothing to hide it, eventually you give in.

idol seonghyeon x idol reader

smau

MAMA GATE @haerinlovebot

seonghyeon calls yn "mama" on his main account and she texts him anyway. 

smau

JERSEY TWELVE @coerlvrs

you had never been the type of girl to crush on boys like most girls your age. well, that was until the basketball team for the year gets announced and you find yourself attracted to the boy who wears jersey twelve. little did you know he had his eyes on you for months already

BASKETBALLPLAYER!SEONGHYEON x FEM!READER

smau

THAI FOOD ! @hyeonsfia

Seonghyeon eats at James family-owned restaurant, what he doesn’t know is that James has a beautiful younger sister.

seonghyeon x fem!reader

smau

NO BURN OUT ON MY WATCH @yuahnfen

in which seonghyeon provides you some comfort during tough times

word count : 0.7k

BABYSITTING @young2keu

an afternoon of babysitting, but the baby has strong opinions on who the real baby is.

gn!reader x bf!seonghyeon

word count : 1.4k

STOP MOVING! @yuesning

your boyfriend ends up finding himself trying to braid your hair but he doesn't even know what he's doing himself.

personal fav !

WHEREVER YOU ARE @coconhovr

seonghyeon, who quietly yearns for you ever since he laid eyes on you, and watching you became his favorite habit

seonghyeon × fem!reader

word count : 4.7k

RAGEBAITER! @epiphyllum32

In which ragebaiting your bf is a part your daily routine.

smau ________

.✦ ݁˖ Keonho .✦ ݁˖

SLEEPYHEAD @darealteeng1rl

your boyfriend would do anything for you; that includes coming late to practice just to sleep in with you a little longer.

WANT YOU SO BAD @lyanftw

keonho trying to win over martin's nonchalant sister, who hes been crushing on for years

smau LOOPY FOR YOU @oceanhyy

 your crush turns into the world’s most affectionate, clingy goof after getting his wisdom teeth out.

keonho x fem reader

#KEONHODOWNBAD @flirticsm

yn interviews keonho at a chanel event  &&   twt clocks that he’s in love

smau

HOLD MY HAND @jjuhyeon

in which your boyfriend get’s sulky because you didn’t hold his hand.

ahn keonho x fem reader

word count : 0.5k

LARP @crtisbambi

your twin brothers best friend larps all your interests in order to get your attention

smau

AITA FOR SCAMMING MY CRUSH’S LIL BRO ON ROBLOX @mwaeom

wherein your classmate keonho scams your little brother louis on roblox. the funny part? keonho has a huge crush on you. now, he’s scared that you won’t like him back anymore and you find it comical that your classmate who's always borrowing your correction tape stole your younger brother’s ballerina cappucina on steal a brainrot…ˎˊ˗

smau

personal fav !

TRUE LOVE WAITS @reinxoxz

what happens when you accidentally take ahn keonho's airpods, same guy who happens to share the same music taste as yours

smau

DELETE,DELETE,DELETE @simplyangelixa

just texts with kono

lowkdesperate!bff!keonho x reader

smau

STARGIRL @loveqnai

you are the sixth member of CORTIS— a co-ed group formed under hybe. you were one of the first people to join the band, followed by the others. being the only girl in the group is far worse than you anticipated, but you love it (don't tell them that)

smau

CHAPSTICK TREND @coconhovr

you wanted to do the chapstick trend with your boyfriend for fun but unfortunately he enjoys it more than you do

bf ! keonho × fem!reader

word count : 1.8k

CRUELLA DE VIL’S SON KEONHO X FAIRY GODMOTHERS DAUGHTER ! READER @st4r-u1tra

personal fav !

BAN MALE PODCASTS @h4chi

a feminist podcast roasts a boyband live on air, and Keonho makes the mistake of getting intrigued by the one girl who refuses to be impressed.

smau / written

THAT DOG STOLE MY GF @backonmyswag

you're basically cookie's second parent now with how much you fangirl over the dog and keonho has accepted his fate of forever being your second favourite

bf!keonho 𝗑 fem!𝗋eader

word count : 0.9k

SHE’S KINDA HOT @cosmiho

The sight of the queen bee with the school’s loser was peculiar to everyone who had been witness to your constant bickering, but they don’t see how he seems to be the only person you can truly be yourself with.

skater!keonho x regina!reader

word count : 13.4k

personal fav !

________

.✦ ݁˖ OT5 .✦ ݁˖

RAGEBAITING YOUR BF AT 1AM @seolbby

CORTIS x fem! reader

smau personal fav ! ONE MORE CHANCE @noneotherrr

them trying to fix things as your ex boyfriend

smau

WHERE DID YOU GET THAT ? @coerlvrs

you send your boyfriend a reaction picture of him mid conversation

smau

RATING MY BOYFRIENDS PHASES @ramenoil

rating 'phases' your boyfriend has been through

bf!cortis x f!reader

smau

DUMB THINGS UR BF TEXTS U @onmymac10

without you by his side, your poor boyfriend has no idea how to function.

smau

CORTIS CAN TREAT YOU BETTER ! @mwaeom

cortis as that one dude in your dms praying for the downfall of every guy you post. aka they’ll definitely treat you better than whoever the hell you’re in a new talking stage with.

downbad cortis x femreader

smau

PLEASE GO BACK @https-astrid2

begging your boyfriend to go back to his older hair

smau

SOFT LAUNCH @ceuxnoirst

as your boyfriend who attempts to soft launch you and fails at it.

smau

CHOPPED AND UNC @juhooniesdoll

in which your bf gets dragged by your friends

smau

NOTHIN’ ON YOU @ihankaji

they miss you, but instead of hearing it directly from them, you have to hear it from someone else.

smau

platonic!cortis x 6th member reader @lillyskiss

texts in the cortis group chat with their sixth member!!

Smau

A CREEP TRIED TO BREAK INTO OUR HOTEL ROOM ( GONE WRONG, 3 AM, MANAGER WAS CALLED ) @eu4mi

the documentary shows a lot of things, except an encounter between you, keonho, and a strange man.

ot5 cortis x 6th member reader

PLEASE TALK TO ME @cortismoon

in which…the guys thought it would be funny to play a little prank on you, not knowing you hadn’t completely healed from the way they used to treat you before debuting.

personal fav !

CORTIS IN THE BACKROOMS @meeoowchi