She'd had plenty of practice before becoming a lonerāthe art of pretending everything was perfectly normal. And, for once, she had to thank her parents for not being around. The silence gave her enough space to think things through and get her emotions back under control.
Not that there was anything to get emotional about in the first place.
Her tutoring sessions with Sieun continued as usual. No, she hadn't stopped trying to decipher his gaze, even though it was rarely directed at her unless she'd made a mistake in a math problem. The awkwardness existed entirely on her side. For some reason, she found it surprisingly difficult to move past something so trivial when she'd survived far more embarrassing moments before. Like the time a girl had quietly pulled her aside to let her know one of her bra straps had slipped off her shoulder. Compared to that, this was nothing.
After rethinking a dozen times whether she should continue sitting behind Sieun, she concluded that he had no idea about her embarrassment, so nobody really cares.Ā
"We have a new student." The teacher's voice drew everyone's attention to the front of the classroom, where a frail-looking boy with glasses stood beside her. "Please introduce yourself."
"Hello. I'm Oh Beomseok."
He looks like the perfect candidate for Youngbin's next target.
And just as expected, the boys gathered around him the moment the teacher stepped out of the classroom. "Where are you from?" Youngbin asked.
"Mungang High School," Beomseok answered.
Youngbin let out a chuckle. "Born with a silver spoon, huh? You know Jiwon from Mungang? We're best buds."
It was no surprise that the kind of friends who flocked around Yeongbin would be exactly like him. Beomseok just confirmed the fact with his stutter and body language.Ā With a quiet sigh, she looked away and found Suho asleep at his desk, his head resting on his folded arms. She poked him relentlessly until he clicked his tongue in annoyance. Amusing.
For someone so terrible at framing sentences, Suho was surprisingly good at reading her mood. She remembered him waiting outside after her shift the previous evening.
"Come on,"Ā he'd said.Ā "Do you really think Sieun actually overthinks things the way you do?"
She'd genuinely tried to stay annoyed with him. It hadn't worked. He just had some misconceptions about how she had a crush on Sieun, but that's understandable when she barely talked about anyone else. Or to anyone else.
"You stare at him a lot," Suho muttered without lifting his head.
Y/N leaned over slightly. "Do you think he knows?" she whispered.
One eye slowly opened, followed by a grin. "Wow." He looked almost impressed. "So we're finally past the denial phase?"
Before she could defend herself, she saw Sieun enter the classroom which shut her up pretty quickly. Not just because he was the topic of discussion, but because Youngbin was currently sitting on his desk.
"Move," Sieun said evenly. "That's my seat."
Youngbin turned around with a glare and said, "I don't want to."
Oh, fuck.
Y/N noticed Sieun lower his gaze for a brief moment before picking up a pen. When he looked back at Youngbin, his expression hadn't changed. "I said move."
Youngbin clicked his tongue and got to his feet. "I'm getting real sick of your attitude." The others stood up beside him. Y/N instinctively started to rise from her seat, already thinking of how she could stop this before it escalated. But Suho beat her to it.
"Why are you guys so chatty these days?" he mumbled. "I'm trying to sleep." He lazily lifted his head from the desk. "So... can I go back to sleep?"
Youngbin scoffed, but he and his friends backed off almost immediately. For all the trouble they caused everyone else, they seemed to know exactly where to draw the line when it came to Suho. Y/N didn't know whether Suho always interfered because he didn't like bullies, or if he sensed the anger Sieun carried with him.Ā
She was about to send the most risque text she had ever sent to anyone.
"Oh my God, are you shitting me?" Before she could react, Suho snatched the phone from her hand and quickly typed something.
"Hey!" She grabbed it back just as fast and stared at the screen.
"You do realize you're technically making me text myself?" Suho groaned, glaring at her.
The mock test is the day after tomorrow. She needed tomorrow to revise everything on her own, without Sieun's help. Which meant today was her last tutoring session with Sieun. Assuming she passed, there wouldn't really be a reason for them to keep meeting after this. The thought left an odd feeling in her chest. She wanted to spend a little more time with him...just today. Which meant she actually had to ask, and it wouldn't be possible if she didn't make any plans.
"So?" Suho asked, "Did I fuck it up?"
Y/N looked down at the message and frowned, "I... don't know. Is it weird to ask for more tutoring when he's already covered everything?"
When she looked up, Suho was smiling. A little too knowingly. "So?" he asked. "Why are you so nervous?"
"Well... after the stunt you pulled yesterdayā"
"No." He cut her off. "Why does it feel like you're about to lose him?"
Y/N froze. She lowered her eyes to her phone again, avoiding his gaze. She didn't want to answer that. But it's no use hiding anymore.
"Okay, fine," she sighed, dropping her forehead onto the desk. "I just think he's cute. That's all. He has pretty eyes, okay?"
"You can see those pretty eyes every day in class."
"...Not up close." A small smile escaped before she could stop it. When she looked back at Suho, he was already wearing that irritatingly smugĀ I-knew-itĀ grin.
"But something feels... off about him," Suho said after a moment, the teasing fading from his voice. "Just be careful."
Y/N nodded and raised her eyebrows, "I know what you mean. He's kind of scary."
Suho looked offended. "Am I not scary?"
"No." She rested her chin in her hands. "You're more like a dog. And before you yell, that's a compliment."
Ting.Ā
Both of them looked at her phone. Suho immediately dragged his chair closer. "It's happening." Y/N opened the message.Ā
Sure.Ā
One word. That was all. Yet somehow, it was enough to make her smile. Suho burst into laughter and raised a hand for a high-five. "Am I not the greatest wingman ever?"
"Anything else?" Sieun's voice pulled her back to reality. His eyes bored straight into her soul.
Good Lord.Ā Two hours had gone by, and she'd run out of excuses to keep the tutoring session going.
"Are you stalling on purpose?"
Y/N flinched. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Instead, her eyes drifted to the fading marks around his neck. "Did you... not apply the medicine?"
"I did."
That was it. She couldn't take the awkwardness anymore. Suho was right. She could always see him in the classroom. Slowly, she packed her books into her bag.
"Um..." She hesitated. "Do you want to grab dinner together?"
Sieun stood up, packed his things, and slung his bag over his shoulder. He didn't answer and simply started walking toward the exit. Y/N smiled to herself as she hurried after him. Close enough.
The evening air was cool as they walked in silence. After a while, she glanced sideways at him. "I feel like you're entering dangerous territory," she said. "Youngbin is one step away from becoming a criminal."
"So am I."
Y/N stopped in her tracks.Ā Was...Was that a joke?
A laugh escaped her. "You know," she said as she caught up to him, "I think I'm starting to understand you better."
Sieun, who had been walking a step ahead, slowed down and looked back at her. There was something about his eyes, or maybe the way he said it. Whatever it was, she could feel warmth creeping into her cheeks. Either in embarrassment or in fear. Maybe both.
"Same goes for me."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat.
Surely he didn't mean that the way she thought he did...right?
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Baku had always been careful with you. Too careful, honestly. After years of rejection, finally having someone he genuinely loved made him terrified of messing things up. So he kept his hands respectful, his affection soft, and his feelings painfully obvious. But one pair of shorts, one accidental glance, and suddenly Baku discovers a very specific weakness he absolutely cannot stop thinking about.
āāāāāāāāāāāā
Warnings:
aged up characters, suggestive themes, shy and clingy boyfriend Baku, thigh obsession, reader teasing, awkward flirting, lots of blushing, physical affection, kissing, masturbation mention, slightly pervy thoughts, lovesick behavior, fluff mixed with tension, Baku being embarrassingly down bad but still respectful.
āāāāāāāāāāāā
Baku was the type of boyfriend who treated you like something delicate.
Not in a weird way. Not like he thought you were weak. More like⦠he genuinely couldnāt believe someone like you was real. After years of getting rejected, laughed at, or ignored, finally having a girlfriendāyou especiallyāfelt unreal to him.
So he was careful.
He never pushed your boundaries. Never pressured you into anything. Half the time he was too nervous to even touch you first. You honestly found it adorable.
At the beginning of your relationship, you didnāt even think he was serious. Sure, he was sweet, but Baku wasnāt exactly known for being academically gifted, and he acted like an overexcited puppy whenever you gave him attention. You assumed heād lose interest eventually.
Instead, he became even more persistent.
He waited outside your job just to walk you home. Called you every single day. Begged you to come to his basketball games. Randomly showed up outside your house with snacks. And whenever he wanted to take you out to eat, heād always end up bringing you to his dadās chicken restaurant.
He knew it wasnāt fancy.
But you liked chicken.
And somehow, that mattered enough to him.
Once you officially started dating, he only got softer around you. He loved kissing you, though he always acted shy about asking for them.
āCāmon⦠one more.ā
āPlease y/n?ā He whined.
You used to laugh every time he begged, but you always gave in anyway. He reminded you of an excited puppy wagging its tail whenever you showed him affection.
Even holding your hand used to make him nervous.
Sometimes heād stare at your hand for a few seconds before looking away again, like he was debating it internally.
Can I hold it?
He never wanted to assume.
So the first time you grabbed his hand instead, his entire face turned red. His ears burned as a huge smile spread across his face almost instantly, his large hand quickly wrapping around yours like he never wanted to let go.
You had to look away just to hide your smile.
Baku was terrified of messing things up with you.
Heād rest an arm around your shoulders, maybe pull you closer during movies, but that was usually it. He always stopped himself before going any further, worried heād scare you away somehow.
That was until one afternoon at his dadās restaurant.
The little bell above the entrance rang, and Baku immediately looked up from behind the counter.
Then he saw you.
You waved casually before walking inside wearing a pair of shorts and a black short-sleeved top.
You always looked pretty to him.
But this time⦠something went wrong in his brain.
His eyes dropped for a second.
Then stayed there.
Your thighs.
The shorts rode up slightly as you walked, and suddenly he couldnāt focus on anything else. Heat rushed straight to his face as he quickly looked away, feeling embarrassed for even staring in the first place.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Still, later that night, he caught himself thinking about it again.
And again.
And again.
Baku swallows hard, feeling the sudden, undeniable tightness in his pants. Crap, he was already rock hard. It wasn't unusual for him to get turned on by youāa simple kiss or a smile was usually enough to get him goingā¦But this? This was completely different.
Baku's mind spirals into pure fantasy, his hands trembling as he imagines his thick cock sandwiched between your soft, plush thighs. He pictures himself grinding slowly, his dick sliding up and down against your warm skin, hearing your moans as he humps between them.
He bites his lip hard, picturing pulling you onto his lap, spreading your thighs wider. His cock would fit just rightānestled in that perfect crease where your inner thigh meets your core. The mental image of you bouncing on him, your thighs squeezing him as you ride, makes precum leak into his pants.
Baku shakes his head violently, trying to dislodge the explicit fantasy from his mind. "Fuck, fuck, fuck.ā he mutters, reaching for his phone with a shaky hand. He decides to talk to gotak. He has nothing better to do he thought.
That was the beginning of his obsession with your thighs.
It started small.
His eyes lingering a little too long whenever you wore shorts. Sitting suspiciously close to you on the couch. Resting his hand on your thigh absentmindedly while talking before realizing what he was doing and immediately panicking.
But eventually, he got comfortable.
Too comfortable.
Now he was sprawled across your bed like he owned the place while you ranted about school from across the room. Your bedroom had become one of his favorite places over time. When he first started coming over, he barely touched anything, terrified heād break one of your little trinkets or decorations.
Now?
Now he practically lived there.
You kept talking while walking toward the bed before finally sitting beside him. Without thinking much of it, you spread your legs slightly to get comfortable.
And Baku noticed immediately.
His attention drifted from your face⦠down to your thighs again.
His brain shut off instantly.
Baku shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide the growing bulge in his pants as you sit there with your legs spread, completely oblivious to the effect you're having on him. You giggle, noticing his discomfort and intentionally spread your legs even wider, pretending to stretch.
āYou okay, Baku?ā you asked, tilting your head slightly.
He nodded immediately.
Too quickly.
āYeah.ā
His voice sounded strained.
He still refused to look directly at you, eyes fixed somewhere near your blanket instead. The tips of his ears were bright red now, and you couldnāt help but narrow your eyes suspiciously.
āā¦You sure?ā
āMhm.ā
Liar.
You stared at him for a few seconds before following his line of sight downward.
Then you realized.
āOh my god,ā you laughed quietly. āAre you staring at my thighs?ā
Baku froze.
Actually froze.
His entire body locked up as his face somehow turned even redder than before.
āN-no!ā he blurted out instantly.
The denial came out way too fast to be believable.
You raised an eyebrow.
āā¦Baku.ā
āI wasnātāI meanāI kinda was but not in a weird way!ā he panicked, finally covering his face with one hand while groaning into his palm. āFuck, now I sound creepy.ā
You burst into laughter at how genuinely distressed he looked.
Meanwhile, Baku looked like he wanted your bed to swallow him whole.
āIām sorry,ā he mumbled from behind his hand. āI didnāt mean to stare.ā
The embarrassment in his voice was almost painful.
You pat your spread thighs, inviting him to lie down. Without realizing it, you're creating the perfect setup for his earlier fantasy. Baku swallows hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he slowly lies down on your thighs, his face buried against your soft belly.
āBaku.ā
Slowly, he peeked at you.
āYou know youāre allowed to look at your girlfriend, right?ā
That did not help him at all.
His brain practically short-circuited.
āYou canāt just say stuff like that,ā he muttered weakly. āYouāre trying to kill me.ā
You laughed again before glancing down at him.
Even now, despite acting dramatic, one of his large hands had absentmindedly drifted toward your thigh like it naturally belonged there.
The second he realized it, he panicked and tried pulling it away.
Only for you to grab his wrist first and place it right back.
Pairing: Kim Gun-woo x Pregnant! Reader
Word count: 4.3k
Summary: you get kidnapped (almost).
you get your hair pulled (rude).
you accidentally reveal youāre pregnant (worse).
Warnings: home invasion, mentions of pregnancy, physical violence
a/n: i just finished season 2 of Bloodhounds and iām sorry i just canāt stop picturing dad!gun-woo š
ALSO season 2 dropped and yāall are still not writing about the boys??? fine. iāll do it myself.
āāāāāāā āā āā ā āāāāāāā
The apartment was quiet that night, too quiet, in the way that made the absence of sound feel like something pressing against your ears instead of something peaceful. You had been sitting on the couch, one hand absentmindedly resting over your stomach, thumb tracing the same small, unconscious pattern over fabric, over skin, over something that still didnāt feel entirely real even a month later.
Pregnant.
Even now, the word didnāt land cleanly. It didnāt settle the way it should have, didnāt root itself into certainty. It hovered instead, fragile and suspended between disbelief and something dangerously close to hope.
Across the room, Kim Gun-woo was watching you.
He had gotten quieter since you found out, more deliberate in everything he did, from the way he moved through the apartment to the way he looked at you. He was constantly recalibrating his understanding of the world to account for something new and impossibly important.
āYouāre doing it again,ā he said after a moment, his voice low but steady, pulling you gently out of your thoughts.
You blinked, looking up at him. āDoing what?ā
He nodded toward your hand.
Only then did you realize you were still tracing that same pattern over your stomach, your touch absent but protective in a way that had become instinctive without you noticing.
You pulled your hand back slightly, almost embarrassed. āI didnāt even notice.ā
Gun-woo didnāt smile. He rarely did lately, not fully.
Instead, he stood and crossed the room in a few quiet steps, sitting beside you. For a moment, he didnāt move, like he was waiting, for permission, maybe, or for the right way to exist in this new space between you.
Then, slowly, he reached out towards your belly.
His hand hovered first, the same way it had that first day, like he was still learning where it was safe to touch. You took his wrist and guided him down again.
He exhaled softly when his palm rested against you, his fingers spreading just slightly, careful, grounding. There was still nothing to feel. No movement. No sign that anything had changed beyond the knowledge itself.
And yet, everything had.
āWe should leave,ā he said suddenly, his voice quieter now, more controlled.
You frowned, looking up at him. āLeave?ā
āFor a while.ā His gaze didnāt leave your face. āUntil this is over.ā
You already knew what he meant.
Im Baek Jeon.
The name didnāt need to be spoken anymore. It existed between all of you, heavy and unavoidable, shaping decisions before they were even fully formed.
āYou donāt think heāll find us anyway?ā you asked.
Gun-wooās jaw tightened slightly. āNot if we move first.ā
From the kitchen, Woo-jin let out a quiet scoff, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. āYou say that like we havenāt been trying to stay off his radar this whole time.ā
Gun-woo didnāt look at him. āThis is different.ā
āYeah,ā Woo-jin said, his tone losing its edge as quickly as it had come. āI know.ā
Silence settled over the three of you again, heavier than before. Because it was different.
A month ago, the threat had been personal, dangerous, yes, but contained within the boundaries of choices Gun-woo could make, risks he could take, consequences he could accept for himself.
Now, it wasnāt just him. And that changed everything.
āWe canāt run forever,ā you said quietly.
Gun-wooās hand tightened just slightly where it rested over yours, his thumb brushing your skin lightly. āWe donāt have to. Just long enough.ā
You could see in his pleading eyes that he was desperately just trying to keep all of you safe, in any way he could.
āCan we talk about this in the morning?ā you questioned, not having the mental energy to think about it right now. You just wanted to enjoy the feeling of Gun-wooās hand against your belly and pretend you were just a normal, young and anxious couple like any other.
āSureā, he agreed, sensing the tiredness in your voice. You kissed him softly on the cheek as a silent thank you.
____
By the time night settled in, the tension hadnāt eased. It rarely did anymore.
You had gotten used to it in small ways. The way doors were always double-checked before bed, the way Woo-jin insisted on keeping his phone within armās reach at all times, the way Gun-woo would pause sometimes in the middle of a conversation, his head tilting ever so slightly as if he were listening to something no one else could hear.
It had become routine.
You lay in bed beside him, the room dim, the soft hum of the city outside filtering faintly through the windows. His presence next to you was steady, solid, a constant in a world that felt like it was shifting too quickly beneath your feet.
For a while, neither of you spoke.
Your hand rested between you, your fingers loosely intertwined with his, your thumb brushing lightly against his knuckles in a rhythm that was more for you than for him.
āAre you awake?ā you murmured after a while.
There was a slight shift beside you.
āYeah.ā
You turned your head slightly, looking at him even though you knew he didnāt need the light to see you.
āā¦Do you think theyāll try something soon?ā
The question hung in the air, heavier than you intended.
Gun-woo didnāt answer immediately. When he did, his voice was calm.
āYes.ā
Your chest tightened, but you nodded anyway, even though he couldnāt see it.
āOkay.ā
His grip on your hand tightened slightly, just enough for you to feel it.
āI wonāt let anything happen to you,ā he said quietly.
You shifted closer, resting your forehead lightly against his shoulder. āI know.ā
āTry to sleepā, he whispered, while softly kissing your hair. āBaby needs you to restā.
With his warm hands holding yours, you closed your eyes and tried to relax despite the anxiety that insisted to grow in your heart.
----
It happened at 2:17 a.m.
You didnāt know the exact time until later, when everything was already over and your hands wouldnāt stop shaking long enough for you to look away from the clock on the wall.
At the time, all you knew was that something felt wrong.
It wasnāt a sound, not at first. It was the absence of one, the subtle disruption of something that should have been there and wasnāt anymore. The faint hum of the security system, the almost imperceptible white noise you had gotten used to without realizing it.
Your eyes opened slowly, your body still heavy with sleep but your mind already sharpening, pulling you toward awareness before you could fully understand why.
Beside you, Gun-woo stilled.
You felt it immediately, the shift in his breathing, the way his body went from relaxed to coiled in an instant, every muscle tightening with sudden, controlled alertness.
āā¦Did you hear that?ā you whispered.
āYes.ā
He was already moving before you could say anything else, carefully disentangling his hand from yours as he sat up, his movements silent, precise. The room felt colder without him next to you, the space he left behind too noticeable.
āWhat is it?ā you asked, your voice barely above a breath.
He didnāt answer right away because he was listening.
You could see it in the way his head tilted slightly, his focus narrowing on something beyond the walls of the room, beyond what you could perceive. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until-
You heard a faint sound. A floorboard. Not in your room, but outside.
Gun-woo stood.
āStay hereā, he said quietly.
Your chest tightened immediately. āGun-wooāā
āStay hereā, he repeated, this time giving you a clear order. āIām going to wake Woo-jin up.ā
You swallowed, nodding even though he wasnāt looking at you anymore, already moving toward the door.
Seconds after, a crash echoed through the house. Something was knocked over, a chair, or maybe a table, followed by multiple footsteps.
Your body moved before your mind could catch up, your feet hitting the floor as you stood, your heart slamming against your ribs hard enough to make it difficult to breathe.
You shouldnāt leave the room, you knew that, but every instinct in your body screamed at you not to be alone. You stepped toward the door just as it burst open.
You didnāt have time to process anything beyond that, just the shape of him, the movement, the hand reaching for you.
Your body twisted sharply as he lunged forward, your hand coming up to shove against his chest with more force than you thought you had. He stumbled back half a step, surprised, but it wasnāt enough.
A hand tangles in your hair, so tight it yanks your head back with a force that tears a scream straight from your throat before you can stop it.
Pain blooms sharp and immediate, blinding in its intensity, your hands flying up instinctively to grab at the wrist holding you, trying to pry it loose.
āLet goā! Let go of me!ā
Your voice cracks, panic rising fast and uncontrollable as youāre dragged forward, your balance completely thrown off. Your feet scramble against the floor, slipping, catching, failing to ground you as he pulls harder, forcing you toward the door.
āMove,ā he snaps, jerking your head back again.
Another scream rips out of you, raw and uncontrolled this time, your fingers clawing at his hand, your body twisting in desperate resistance.
āPleaseā!ā The word breaks out of you before you can stop it, survival instinct overriding everything else. āPlease donātādonāt hurt meā!ā
Your hands drop from his wrist, instinctively, curling inward over your stomach as your body folds slightly around it, your movements shifting without thought, driven by something deeper than panic.
āPleaseāā your voice cracks again, softer now, desperate in a different way. āPlease, Iāā
The man holding you pauses.
His grip doesnāt loosen, but his attention shifts, his gaze dropping, following the movement of your hands.
āā¦Wait.ā
The word cuts through everything and the others hesitate.
āWhat?ā one of them snaps.
āLook at her.ā
Your breath stutters.
No. No, no, noā
āSheās protecting her stomach.ā
Your fingers tighten instinctively where they rest, your entire body going still as the realization settles in the air between all of you.
āā¦Youāre pregnant,ā he says slowly.
It isnāt a question.
Your chest tightens so sharply it almost hurts, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts as you shake your head instinctively, denial rising even though you know itās useless.
āNoāno, Iāā
The lie dies before it can fully form.
A low laugh escapes him, quiet and almost disbelieving. āWell, Baek-jeon will love the newsā.
Your heart drops.
āPlease,ā you try again, your voice trembling, desperation clawing its way through every word. āPlease, donātāā
āShut up.ā
His grip tightens in your hair, forcing your head back again, and pain explodes across your scalp, your vision blurring as another cry tears out of you.
āGun-woo!ā you scream, the name ripping from your chest before you can stop it, raw and desperate while the man in black tries to drag you down the stairs.
Suddenly, the man holding you is gone in an instant, his grip ripped away so violently it sends you stumbling forward, your knees nearly buckling as you catch yourself against the edge of the first step.
A sickening crack echoes through the room as Gun-wooās fist connects with the manās face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground hard enough that the entire floor seems to shake with it.
āGet away from her,ā Gun-woo says, his voice low and unrecognizable, each word punctuated by another hit.
Across the room, Woo-jin is already engaged with the others, his movements fast and aggressive, a curse spilling from his mouth as he blocks a strike and retaliates immediately.
āBad move,ā he snaps, slamming one of them back against the wall.
The room is chaos. But Gun-woo⦠Gun-woo is something else entirely.
The second man tries to move toward you again, maybe thinking Gun-woo is too focused on the one beneath him to react.
Heās wrong.
Gun-woo shifts instantly, abandoning the first without a second thought, intercepting the movement mid-step. His fist connects with the manās jaw with brutal precision, snapping his head back before he even has time to react.
He follows through without pause, grabbing him by the collar and driving him into the wall hard enough to rattle everything hanging on it.
āSheās pregnantā, the man says quietly, flashing a sick bloody smile.
āSay it again,ā Gun-woo demands, his voice deadly quiet now, his grip tightening.
āSheās pregnant, right?ā
Thereās no hesitation this time. No restraint. He slams him back again, harder, his fist connecting with a force that leaves no room for recovery, no chance to fight back.
The third manāstill struggling against Woo-jinālets out a breathless laugh despite the situation. āYou think this helps?ā he spits. āYou think beating us changes anything?ā
Woo-jin shoves him back hard, knocking the wind out of him. āShut up.ā
But the damage is already done, because the man keeps talking.
āYou couldnāt even keep us out,ā he continues, his voice strained but mocking. āWhat happens next time, huh? You gonna watch when we take her for real?ā
āTo keep her safe,ā the man adds, pushing through the pain, āyou know what you have to do.ā
Gun-woo stills. But thatās all it takes for the words to sink in.
Without hesitation, Woo-jin strikes the manās face with a punch so strong he passes out instantly.
āShut up, assholeā.
But itās too late. Because now, they know.
And worseā
Theyāve given Gun-woo a choice.
----
For a moment after the last blow lands, there is no sound.
The kind of silence that follows violence isnāt empty. Itās thick, ringing, filled with the echo of what just happened. Your ears buzz, your breath comes too fast, too uneven, and the room feels like itās tilting slightly under your feet.
One of the men groans.
Another coughs, dragging in a broken breath as he tries to push himself up from the floor. They donāt fight anymore. They canāt. Whatever confidence they had when they broke in is gone now.
āGet out,ā Woo-jin snaps, his voice sharp, still edged with adrenaline. He doesnāt even wait for them to respond before stepping forward, grabbing one of them by the collar and hauling him roughly toward the door.
Gun-woo doesnāt help. He doesnāt need to. The look in his eyes is enough.
The men see it too. You can tell by the way they donāt argue, donāt try to say anything else clever or threatening as they drag themselves toward the exit. One of them glances back once and whatever he sees in Gun-wooās expression makes him look away immediately.
They retreat the way wounded animals do, slow, uneven, desperate to put distance between themselves and the threat that nearly tore them apart.
The front door hangs open, broken at the frame, creaking faintly as it shifts on its hinges. Cold air spills into the apartment, brushing against your skin in a way that makes you shiver, though you donāt feel cold.
You donāt feel much of anything and your knees give out before you realize theyāre going to. You donāt even remember moving from where you were standing, just the sudden absence of strength in your legs as you sink down, your hands catching you clumsily against the floor.
The world feels far away, muted and your hands are shaking.
You notice that first. The tremor is small at the beginning, barely noticeable, but it grows quickly, spreading through your arms, into your chest, until your entire body feels like itās vibrating under your skin.
A sob escapes you before you can stop it.
āHeyāheyāā
Woo-jinās voice cuts through the haze first, closer than you expect. He crouches in front of you quickly, his movements urgent but careful, like heās afraid of startling you further.
āYouāre okay,ā he says, though his own breathing is still uneven. āYouāre okay, itās over.ā
Behind him, Gun-woo hasnāt moved.
His chest rising and falling too fast, his hands still clenched at his sides like he hasnāt fully come back yet. Thereās blood on his knuckles, some of it his, most of it not, and his entire body is rigid, like the fight hasnāt actually ended for him.
Woo-jin glances back at him, just for a second.
āā¦Gun-woo.ā
No response.
He tries again, sharper this time. āHey.ā
Gun-wooās gaze shifts, slow and heavy, landing on you where youāre sitting on the floor, shaking, your hands still hovering uncertainly near your stomach like you donāt know where else to put them.
He moves slowly at first, like his body is resisting the transition from one state to another, from violence to something softer, something human again. Each step is deliberate, measured, like heās forcing himself to calm down with every inch he closes between you.
He lowers himself in front of you, mirroring Woo-jinās earlier position, but closer, closer than anyone else is allowed to be. His hands lift slowly, hesitating for only a second before settling carefully on both sides of your face.
āā¦Are you hurt?ā he asks, his voice low and rough.
You shake your head, though the movement is small, unsteady. āN-noā¦ā
āIām sorry,ā he says, the words coming out before he can stop them.
Your head snaps up slightly, your eyes finally focusing on him. āWhat?ā
āI shouldāve-ā His jaw tightens, the rest of the sentence catching somewhere in his throat. āI shouldāve stopped them before they got to you.ā
You shake your head quickly, the movement more desperate this time. āYou did, Gun-woo, you did-ā
āThey were inside,ā he cuts in, his voice sharper now, edged with something that hasnāt fully settled. āThey had you-ā
Woo-jin exhales heavily from beside you, running a hand through his hair. āOkay, weāre not doing this right now.ā
He shifts closer, one hand coming down gently on your shoulder, grounding, steady, while his other reaches out to shove lightly at Gun-wooās arm, just enough to get his attention.
āHey,ā he says, more firmly now. āLook at me.ā
Gun-woo doesnāt want to, but after a second, he does.
āThis isnāt on you,ā Woo-jin continues, his tone steady despite the adrenaline still lingering beneath it. āThey broke in. Thatās on them.ā
āThey came because of me.ā
āYeah,ā Woo-jin says bluntly. āAnd they left because of you too.ā
That lands. Not fully, but enough to make Gun-woo exhale and drop some of the guilt he has holding all on his own.
Woo-jin squeezes your shoulder lightly, his voice softening as he looks back at you. āAnd youābreathe, okay? Youāre safe. Weāre here.ā
You nod weakly, and squeeze his hand, your way of saying a silent thank you for saying the words you and Gun-woo needed so bad to hear right now.
Gun-wooās hand shifts slightly where it rests on your arm, his thumb brushing once, grounding both of you.
āā¦They know,ā he says quietly.
The words settle heavily in the room. Woo-jin exhales again, slower this time. āYeah.ā
You swallow, your throat still tight, your voice small when you finally speak. āā¦What does that mean?ā
Gun-woo doesnāt answer right away and thatās worse than anything he could say. The silence is filled with everything heās thinking, considering and Woo-jin notices it too.
āHey,ā he says quickly, sharper now, his tone shifting in warning. āDonāt go there.ā
Gun-wooās gaze flicks to him.
āIām serious,ā Woo-jin adds, holding it. āWe figure this out. Together.ā
For a while, no one moves.
The apartment feels wrong now, too open, too exposed, like the walls themselves canāt protect you anymore. The broken door lets in a slow draft of cold air that brushes against your skin, but you still barely register it. Everything still feels distant, like your body hasnāt fully caught up to what just happened.
Gun-woo is the first to pull away.
The movement is abrupt compared to how careful he had been with you moments ago, like something inside him has shifted againāsnapped back into urgency, into action.
āWe canāt stay here.ā
Woo-jin exhales sharply through his nose, nodding immediately. āYeah, we need to go.ā
----
The place Woo-jin finds isnāt home.
You can tell the second you step inside. Itās clean, functional, temporary in a way that makes everything echo just a little too much. The furniture is sparse, the walls bare, the air carrying that faint, unfamiliar stillness of somewhere that hasnāt been lived in long enough to feel safe.
But the door locks. Twice. And the windows are intact so for now, that was enough.
Woo-jin checks everything first. Every room, every window latch, every blind, every possible entry point. He moves with purpose, still riding the edge of adrenaline, but more controlled now, more focused.
āClear,ā he finally says, exhaling as he steps back into the main room.
Gun-woo doesnāt respond right away. He hasnāt let go of you since you arrived.
His hand is still wrapped around yours, firm and grounding, like if he loosens his grip even slightly, something might take you again. His other hand rests at your back, guiding you gently further inside, his body positioning itself instinctively between you and the door even after itās locked.
āSit,ā he murmurs.
Your body still feels like itās catching up to everything that happened, your limbs heavy, your thoughts slower than they should be.
The couch is firmer than the one back home. You notice that.
Gun-woo kneels in front of you almost immediately, his gaze moving over you again, searching in that same careful, quiet way. Itās less frantic now, but no less intense, like he still expects to find something wrong if he looks hard enough.
āIām okay,ā you say softly, before he can ask.
He nods, but he doesnāt stop looking.
Woo-jin disappears into another room for a moment, the sound of drawers opening and closing faint in the background, giving you space without saying it out loud.
Silence settles between you and Gun-woo.
Your hand shifts in his, your fingers tightening slightly as you watch him, taking in the tension that hasnāt left his shoulders, the way his jaw is still set like he hasnāt fully come down from the edge yet and the fact that his knuckles still have dried blood on them.
āYou need to rest,ā you murmur.
His eyes flick up to yours. āIām fine. Iāll rest later,ā he says.
You know better than to argue right now.
Woo-jin comes back eventually, setting a glass of water on the table in front of you, his movements calmer now, more grounded.
āDrink,ā he says gently.
You nod, taking it, your hands steadier now than they were before.
He lingers for a second, watching both of you, then exhales and drops into the chair across from you.
āWeāll stay here a couple days,ā he says, more to Gun-woo than to you. āFigure out next steps after.ā
Gun-woo nods once.
Itās enough. For now, thatās all any of you can manage.
----
After forcing the boys to take a shower, you and Gun-woo climb into bed. The sun will rise in a couple hours.
You lie in a bed that isnāt yours, staring up at a ceiling you donāt recognize, the faint hum of the building replacing the familiar sounds you used to rely on. Your body is exhausted, your mind heavier than it should be, but sleep doesnāt come right away.
Beside you, Gun-woo hasnāt moved.
Heās been like this for a while now, awake, even in the dark, even when he pretends otherwise.
āAre you going to sleep?ā you whisper.
āIn a bit.ā
You turn slightly toward him, studying the outline of his face in the dim light, the tension still there, quieter now but not gone.
āYou said that an hour ago.ā
You shift closer instead, closing the space between you, your hand finding his under the blanket. His fingers curl around yours immediately, like heās been waiting for it without realizing.
You guide his hand again slowly down to rest it over your stomach.
You feel him shift closer, his shoulder pressing more firmly against yours as his head dips forward, resting lightly against you. His hand stays where it is, warm, steady, careful.
āā¦Iām going to fix this,ā he murmurs, his voice low enough that it barely disturbs the silence, but close enough that you feel it more than hear it, the vibration of it settling somewhere deep in your chest.
āI will,ā he continues, softer now, but steadier in a way that feels less like certainty and more like something heās forcing himself to believe, something he needs to hold onto so he doesnāt break under the weight of everything else. āBeforeāā
Then his fingers spread just a little, his palm settling more intentionally against you, and when he speaks again, his voice shifts closer, like it isnāt meant for you anymore.
āā¦before youāre here.ā
āI know you canāt hear me yet,ā he continues, his voice dropping even further, softer than youāve ever heard it, stripped of everything sharp or guarded, ābut Iām your dad.ā
Your eyes sting suddenly, the feeling creeping in without warning as you listen.
āAnd Iām sorry,ā he adds, his voice rougher now. āFor tonight. For everything you donāt understand yet.ā
Your chest tightens, your hand instinctively covering his where it rests, grounding him without interrupting.
āIām supposed to make sure nothing touches you,ā he continues, quieter still, like heās afraid of breaking something fragile. āThat nothing gets close enough to hurt you. Or your mom.ā
Your vision blurs further, your eyes fully glassy now, tears gathering without falling, held back only by the fragile stillness of the moment. You bite down softly on the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your breathing even, trying not to let it break.
āIām still figuring out how to do that.ā
āBut I will,ā he murmurs, more firmly now, even if his voice stays soft, the resolve settling into something quieter but stronger. āIāll figure it out.ā
And in the quiet that follows, with your eyes still damp and your chest still tight, something shifts again into something softer, something that feels like the beginning of hope.
And when sleep finally comes, slow and gentle and long overdueāit finds you like that.
SUM. you and hyuntak have been keeping your relationship a secret for fun, secretly dating for fun, sneaking kisses and moments alone for fun. until the boys finally catch you and three strikes, your not-so-hidden relationship is out.
(WHC MLST) . go hyuntak x fem!reader Ā· includes: yeon sieun, ahn suho, seo juntae, park humin Ā· all fluffy, lots of kissing, sort of b-day fic
your relationship with gotak was a secret. it wasnāt about keeping it a secret because youĀ hadĀ to. hyuntak made that clear the first night he kissed you in the furthest hallway after practice. his words breathless and a little shaky as his hands cupped your cheeks so softly. you almost melted right then and there.
āiām not hiding you,āĀ heād whispered against your mouth.Ā āi just wanna keep this for us for a little while, yāknow?ā
and it just stuck.
so now, here you were, sitting on his living room floor on his birthday, your back resting against the couch. there was a half-eaten bag of chips next to you and a bunch of voices overlapping in the background. the whole groupās gathered around, laughing over some dumb show playing on the tv.
bakuās teasing juntae about losing in a game. suhoās sitting cross-legged on the floor, talking to sieun. youāre probably the only one actually watching the show. and hyuntak?
hyuntak was two couch cushions away from you, legs stretched out, hoodie sleeves half covering his hands. and he keeps looking at you.
not obviously. just flickers of eye contact across the room, glances that were supposed to not last too long. the kind that make your heart race because you know what those eyes looked like last night, when he pulled you into his lap and kissed you like he hadnāt seen you in a year. in reality, it was only four hours apart.
you catch him looking again.
he lifts the neck of his hoodie to cover his smile like heās scratching his cheek, then quickly turns back to listen to whatever suhoās saying.
your cheeks burn, and your stomach flips in the best way.
fifteen minutes later, you slip out to the kitchen under the excuse ofĀ āgrabbing more snacks.āĀ gotak follows around three minutes after, completely casual and normal. but as soon as the wall hides you from view, heās pressing close.
his arms wrap around your waist from behind, his nose brushing softly into the crook of your neck. āhey,ā he murmurs, voice low and sweet.
āhey yourself, birthday boy.ā you lean back into him, biting your bottom lip in a smile. ātook you long enough.ā
āsomeone had to not make it obvious,ā he teases, lips brushing your ear. ābakuās already suspicious.ā
you turn in his arms, your hands resting lazily over his shoulders, eyes catching his under the dim kitchen light. ālet him be.ā
he kisses you. so soft, and warm, and drawn out. like heās been craving it since you sat down earlier, and now that he has you alone, he doesnāt want to let go.
his hands slide up your back slowly, fingertips pressing into you through your shirt. your fingers tug gently on the ends of his hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
itās not sexual. not heated. just the kind of kiss that says i missed you. or i just i need you close. he presses you back against the counter, lips still dancing with yours as his thumbs rub over your hips. then you hear footsteps.
gotak pulls back with a smirk, his breathing a little unsteady. āshowtime,ā he says under his breath, leaving your cheek with one last kiss before pulling away completely.
you reappear in the living room first, new bag of chips in hand. gotak follows a moment later with a soda, yawning like he totally wasnāt just making out in the kitchen with his girlfriend.
gotak plops down on the floor again, this time closer to you. just close enough that your knees brush under the blanket thrown across the floor earlier. and when your fingers sneak under the edge of the blanket to hook around his pinky, he squeezes yours with his once. a silent i love you.
you donāt have to say it out loud yet. youāve got time.
strike one:
you and hyuntak were just going toĀ ācheck the laundry.āĀ which is a terrible excuse. neither of you had clothes in the wash. nor anything youād need to get from the room alone. but the others were too busy fighting over who got to pick the next movie to question it.
and now youāre in the tiny laundry room, secluded from everyone else, pressed up against the dryer. hyuntakās hands on your waist and his lips on yours. āfive minutes,ā you whisper between kisses, breathless and smiling. āyou promised.ā
āi lied,ā he mumbles against your mouth, one hand slipping under the hem of your shirt. āsorry not sorry.ā
you laugh quietly, fingers trailing up over his shoulders, tugging him closer. he kisses your cheek, then your jaw.
āyouāre all warm and soft and look at me like youĀ wantĀ to sneak around with me.ā
āi do,ā you admit, giggling.
and he grins like you just made his entire week. youāre halfway into a hotter kiss when the door handle rattles. you both freeze.
āis this the laundry room?ā juntaeās voice calls from the other side. ābaku spilled beer on me.ā
hyuntakās eyes widen. he silently mouthsĀ āshitā, then scrambles, unnecessarily quickly, backing away from you, and fixing his hoodie. you hop up onto the dryer, grabbing a random sock pile and pretending to sort them like you had been there the whole time. the door opens and juntae pokes his head in. he blinks at you, then at hyuntak.
āā¦you guys doing laundry?ā
āyeah,ā you say too fast. āsuper important laundry business.ā
hyuntak nods. ādefinitely not kissing or anything.ā
juntae raises an eyebrow. āwhat?ā
āwhat?ā you both repeat at the same time.
āoh, well, do you mind washing my shirt then? i canāt go home tomorrow smelling like beer,ā he asks, handing you his shirt as you take it with a smile. the second the door shuts, you both burst into quiet, breathless laughter.
ādefinitely not kissing or anything?ā you tease, hiding your face in your hands.
hyuntak groans, dragging his own hand down his face. āi panicked.ā
youāre still giggling when he steps between your legs, hands resting at your hips again. this time, no kiss. heās just leaning his forehead against yours, noses brushing with love.
āweāre gonna get caught one day,ā he says, voice warm and full of affection.
āprobably,ā you say. ābut not today.ā
he smiles. ānot today.ā
strike two:
itās past midnight when the house finally settles. the laughter fades out to silence. sleeping bodies on the floor. the tv now off.
youāre curled up under the blanket on the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone while waiting for the right time to sneak away. hyuntak slipped away ten minutes ago, texting you:Ā come to my room in a bit. donāt be obvious.
which, is pretty hard when you have to carefully step around everyone else thatās sprawled around. but you wait. youāre good. and when baku starts snoring, you silently slip off the couch and pad quietly down the hallway to hyuntakās room.
his bedroom door creaks open just as you knock. knowing him, he was probably waiting and listening with his ear pressed against the door.
āyou took forever,ā he whispers, pulling you inside and closing it behind you.
āi didnāt want to almost get caught again,ā you whisper back, smiling.
he grins. āstrike two, then.ā
his room is dark except for the faint glow from a lamp on his desk. it casts a warm, golden hue over the room, softening everything and making it more cozy, including him. heās in sweats and a loose black tee, hair a little tousled from lying down, eyes sleepy but happy the second you step close.
you donāt even speak again. you just fall into each other like magnets. his arms wrapping around your waist instinctively, your face burying into his shoulder, both of you exhaling like this is the only place youāve wanted to be all day.
āi missed you,ā you whisper.
āwe were together all night.ā
āstill missed you.ā
he chuckles, pulling you gently toward his bed.
you crawl under the blanket together, limbs tangled, your back to his chest as he drapes his arm over your waist. everything is warm. still and quiet. his nose brushes the back of your neck, and then presses the softest kiss to your skin. āhow is this even better when weāre sneaking?ā
āprobably ācause it feels like weāre not supposed to,ā you mumble, lacing your fingers with his under the blanket. āmakes it feel moreā¦intimate.ā
āyeah,ā he says quietly. āintimate.ā
you stay like that for a while, just breathing together. his hand rests low on your stomach, fingers curled gently against you. you can feel his heartbeat slow and comforting against your back. then he kisses your shoulder again. then your neck. then your jaw.
āhyuntak,ā you whisper, half-laughing.
āwhat?ā he murmurs, voice all sleepy mischief. ācanāt help it.ā
you turn to face him, his face inches from yours. you cup his cheek and kiss him softly. sweet and slow, no rush, just love. his hand slides up your side, warm under your shirt, but he doesnāt push. doesnāt try for more. he just kisses you like youāre the secret he wanted to keep only to himself forever. thatās how you guys liked it.
when you finally pull back, he whispers, āif this is strike two, whatās strike three?ā he asks. āgetting caught for real?ā
āworth it.ā you smile. ābut not by your parents, though.ā your eyes widened.
āwonāt be home until noon tomorrow. you think iād riskĀ this?ā
you laugh again, quieter now, and tuck yourself closer. his arm tightens around you. and before sleep takes you both, you hear him murmur one last thing into your hair.
āyouāre my favorite part of the day.ā
the next morning, the house is loud, baku per usual.
someone turned on music. someoneās (attempting) to cook eggs in the kitchen. sieunās fussing at suho for using his toothbrush.
you and hyuntak make the mistake of thinking you were in the clear. you didnāt sleep in the same room last night. you snuck back to the couch just before sunrise, yawning and still wrapped in the scent of him. everything seemed perfect.
until you find yourself alone in the hallway with him again. āweāre really pushing it,ā you whisper, looking up at him as he leans against the wall near the bathroom.
āweāveĀ beenĀ pushing it,ā hyuntak grins, tugging lightly at your sleeve. āyou canāt seriously expect me to go a whole morning without kissing you. thatās ridiculous.ā
you bite back your smile. āi do expect that, actually.ā
he leans in anyway. āplease. just one,ā he murmurs, already brushing his nose against yours. āreal quick. no oneās gonnaāā
the door to the hallway bathroom swings open.
suho and sieun.
you donāt even have time to pull apart. hyuntakās hand is still on your waist, your face still tilted toward his, clearly about to kiss. if not, then pulling away from one.
and itās silent for all of three seconds. āoh my god!ā juntae drops his shirt, coming from the laundry room.
ācalled it,ā baku shouts from the other end of the hall by the kitchen.
suho claps slowly. āwow. we werenāt even trying to catch you and still did.ā
hyuntak immediately steps back, rubbing the back of his neck like heās a child thatās been caught red-handed sneaking cookies. āokay, okay, itās not what it looks like.ā
ātak,ā you say flatly. āitāsĀ exactlyĀ what it looks like.ā
he winces. āyeah. okay. it is.ā
āsoā¦ā baku leans in, eyes wide with excitement. āhow long?ā
hyuntak looks at you. you shrug, grinning. ājust for a little bit.ā
ādefine a little bit,ā sieun deadpans.
āsince january,ā hyuntak mutters under his breath.
ājanuary?!ā juntae shrieks. āyou guys have been sneaking around forĀ three months and no oneās noticed?!ā
you and hyuntak both start laughing. āwe werenātĀ hidingĀ hiding,ā you say. āwe justā¦liked it. keeping it to ourselves.ā
baku grins. āi think itās cute.ā
āi think you both make a really nice couple,ā juntae says.
sieun sighs, already walking away.
āiām just glad itās out now. no more weird tension during movie nights.ā suho adds, following after sieun.
hyuntak wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you closer. āguess thatās strike three.ā
you lean your head on his shoulder. āworth it.ā
and once the others had scattered, some of them laughing, some fake gagging, all completely unbothered, hyuntak leans down and finally kisses you in the open. right there in the hallway. no hiding. no rush.
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Genre: slow burn romance, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff
Summary: Started with an argument, both of Gotak and you never imagined to end up here.
Word count: 7k
Authors's note: Finally I wrote a fanfiction on my most beloved, favorite character of whc. Since I have been gone for a while, I tried to make it as long as possible. Also included a little bit of side couple plot with our Baku. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this.
The shift was supposed to be quiet. Since the Monday evenings on campus cafe is usually very quiet and empty, you often find yourself doing your assignments on the shift. No one came in the last one hour, so you were sitting deeply invested in your statistics homework. That was your first mistake.
The door swung open, bell ringing violently as a group of tall, loud guys poured into the cafe like they owned it. Sweat, laughter, the squeak of sneakers against tile.
Basketball team. Obviously.
You didnāt even look up as you called out, āHello, please order at the self checkout kiosk.ā
None of them acknowledged your presence or greeted you back. You rolled your eyes as they were talking loudly, laughing and hitting each other like elementary school students.
One of them leaned over the counter anyway.
āHey, can we get...ā
āNo,ā you said flatly. āwe only take orders through the machine over hereā
A pause. Then a laugh deep, rough, unmistakably amused.
You looked up.
He was big. Broad shoulders, messy hair still damp, deep blue hoodie half zipped, eyes sharp and a little too confident. He stared at you like you were interesting instead of irritating.
āWow,ā he said. āDidnāt know customer service came with attitude.ā
You smiled sweetly. āDidnāt know basketball players came with short temper.ā
His teammates lost it.
āGotak she got you.ā
āBro, that was clean.ā
His jaw tightened.
āWhatās your problem?ā he asked.
āMy problem,ā you replied calmly, āis six grown men yelling in my cafe.ā
He leaned in, lowering his voice. āThen quit.ā
You met his gaze, unflinching.
āOr you could behave like adults.ā
Something sparked in his eyes, annoyance mixed with something else.
He straightened slowly, like heād decided not to bite back yet.
āAdults, huh,ā he said, clicking his tongue. āYou talk a lot for someone working alone. The customers are waiting.ā
You shut your notebook with a soft thud and turned, meeting him eye to eye across the counter. Up close, he was even more irritating, too tall, too broad, too aware of it.
āAnd youāre loud for someone who canāt read a sign,ā you replied, pointing behind him. SELF CHECKOUT ONLY was printed in bold letters.
One of his teammates snorted.
āHyung, sheās right.ā
Another added, āJust use the machine, man.ā
He didnāt look away from you.
āNow please go stand in line like the rest of your friends.ā
A beat. Then laughter exploded behind him.
āDamn, Gotak, sheās scary.ā
āIs she your girlfriend already?ā
He shot them a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Silence followed instantly.
Gotak exhaled through his nose and stepped back, muttering, āUnbelievable,ā as he turned toward the kiosk.
You sat back down, heart thudding harder than you wanted to admit.
Ten minutes later, the printer beeped.
You stood, grabbed the tray, and called out, āAmericano. One protein bar.ā
Gotak walked over, took the cup and frowned.
āā¦This is iced.ā
You blinked. āYou ordered iced.ā
āI said hot.ā
āNo, you didnāt.ā
āYes, I did.ā
You stared at him. He stared back. The air tightened.
From behind him, one of his friends whispered, far too loudly,
āHyung, you definitely clicked iced.ā
Gotakās ears went red.
You tilted your head, lips curving. āWant to apologize to the machine too?ā
For a second, you thought he might actually snap. Instead, he grabbed the cup, took a long sip, then grimaced. āWhatever.ā
He paused, then added, quieter, āItās fine.ā
You didnāt know why that surprised you.
As he turned to leave, one teammate lingered behind, a taller guy with a friendly grin and zero shame.
āHey,ā he said, nodding toward you. āIām Baku. Sorry about him. Heās a bit grumpy today.ā
You glanced at Gotakās back, then back at Baku. āI noticed.ā
Baku laughed. āSee you around?ā
āProbably,ā you said.
Gotak shot Baku a look. āMove.ā
They left in a rush of noise and sneakers, the bell ringing violently again.
The cafe fell quiet.
You stared at the door for a second longer than necessary, then shook your head and reopened your statistics notes.
Great, you thought.
Another campus menace.
You didnāt know yet that this wouldnāt be the last time you saw him. Not even close.
Few days passed since that evening. Your life was going normally as usual. School, part time job, home and repeat again and again.Ā
But for last few days you barely slept.
Between rehearsing your slides in your head and triple checking your notes, your alarm felt like it went off the moment you closed your eyes. Still, you got up, showered, and dressed with the kind of care that made your stomach twist.
Black blazer. White blouse. Pressed slacks. Hair neat. Minimal makeup.
You looked⦠professional. Exactly the way your professor demanded.
Forty percent of your grade, you reminded yourself as you stepped out onto campus. Just get through today.
The hallway outside the lecture building was busy. People were rushing, laughing, cutting through crowds without looking.
You hugged your laptop to your chest and kept walking while repeating your speech in your head. That was your second mistake.
āYo, pass it!ā
Something collided with you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.
You stumbled back a step as a splash of cold liquid spread across your chest.
You froze. Slowly, horrifically, you looked down.
Iced coffee. Brown. Soaking into your white blouse.
āNo,ā you whispered.
āNo, no, noā
āOh... shit.ā
That voice.
You looked up.
The rude basketball player from that night stood in front of you, eyes wide, cup still tilted in his hand like he couldnāt believe what just happened. He was laughing with his friends a second ago. Now he looked⦠genuinely stunned.
āWatch where youāre going!ā you snapped, panic and fury crashing together.
āI was...ā He stopped himself, jaw tightening. āYou walked right into me.ā
āI was walking,ā you shot back. āYou were running like a child!ā
One of his friends burst out laughing behind him.
āHyung, you killed her outfit.ā
Gotak shot him a glare. āShut up.ā
You pressed your laptop tighter to your chest, heat burning behind your eyes.
āThis is a presentation,ā you said, voice shaking despite yourself. āA formal one.ā
He looked down again, really looked this time. The blazer. The blouse. The spreading stain.
His brows knit together.
āā¦You serious?ā he asked.
āYes, Iām serious!ā you hissed. āDo you think I dress like this for fun?ā
For a moment, he didnāt say anything. His friends shifted awkwardly, the humor draining from the situation.
āI didnāt mean to,ā he said finally, lower now. āIāll...ā
āYouāll what?ā you cut in. āUnspill it?ā
He opened his mouth, closed it again. Ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
āIām late,ā you said, stepping past him. āThanks. Really.ā
You walked away before he could say anything else.
You locked yourself in the nearest bathroom stall and stared at the stain like it might disappear if you glared hard enough.
It didnāt. You dabbed at it with wet paper towels. It only spread.
Your phone buzzed. A text from your teammate.
"You coming? You know you have to be here 10 minutes before the presentation starts, right?"
Your throat tightened. Get it together, you told yourself.
You straightened your blazer, took a deep breath, and went to class anyway.
You were already standing at the front of the room when the door opened.
Your professor glanced up sharply. āNo one should step into this classroom after me.ā
āSorry,ā a familiar voice muttered. Your heart sank.
Gotak slipped into the back row, basketball jacket thrown over one shoulder. His eyes flicked up and landed on you.
Recognition hit. Then his gaze dropped to the stain. His expression changed instantly.
You didn't know at the time that Gotak followed after you to your class (while skipping his own one) to explain the incident from earlier if your professor points out your coffee stained outfit.
You turned away, face burning, and began your presentation.
Your voice was steady. Your slides were clean. You answered questions clearly.
Still, you felt it the weight of eyes, the whisper of judgment, the humiliation crawling under your skin.
When you finished, the professor nodded once. āYou may sit.ā
As you walked back to your seat, you risked a glance toward the back.
He was watching you. His jaw was clenched, his posture stiff, guilt written all over his face.
When class ended, you packed up quickly, determined to leave before he could say anything.
Too late.
āHey,ā he said, stepping into your path. āWait.ā
You stopped but didnāt look at him.
āI said Iām sorry,ā he added, quieter now. āI really am.ā
You finally met his eyes.
āApologies donāt fix grades,ā you said flatly.
Something in his expression faltered.
āā¦Let me make it up to you,ā he said.
You laughed once, humorless. āYou canāt.ā
He hesitated. āAt least let me try.ā
You studied him for a second, really studied him.
Then you sighed.
āThis isnāt over,ā you said, stepping past him again.
And for the first time since you met him, he didnāt talk back. He stood there for a second after you passed him, fingers curling at his sides like he wanted to grab the words back and redo them properly.
āHey,ā he called again, not as sharp this time. āAt least...ā
You didnāt stop.
So he lets you go.
The rest of the day blurred together.
You replayed the presentation in your head over and over, every slide, every pause, every question you answered, trying to convince yourself the stain hadnāt mattered. Trying to believe the professor hadnāt noticed. Trying not to feel the humiliation simmering under your skin.
By the time your cafe shift rolled around that evening, exhaustion sat heavy in your bones.
Monday nights were quiet. Too quiet.
You wiped down the counter slowly, glancing at the door out of habit.
He wonāt come back, you told yourself. Why would he? And why am I expecting him anyways?
The bell rang.
You closed your eyes for half a second before looking up.
Gotak stood there alone this time. No teammates. No noise. Just a navy hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets.
He hesitated when he saw you, like he wasnāt sure if walking in had been a mistake.
āā¦Hey,ā he said.
You straightened, professional mask snapping into place. āSelf checkoutās over there.ā
He winced. āYeah. I know.ā
He didnāt move right away. Instead, he cleared his throat. āI didnāt skip class to mess with you earlier.ā
You paused. āThatās not comforting,ā you said, flat.
āI skipped it,ā he continued stubbornly, ābecause if your professor said something about the stain, I was gonna explain. That it was my fault.ā
Your hand tightened around the cloth you were holding.
āAnd if he didnāt?ā you asked.
āThen Iād shut up,ā he replied. āWhich I did.ā
You finally looked at him.
His jaw was tight, eyes serious, not defensive, not annoyed. Just⦠sincere. Uncomfortable with it, but sincere.
āā¦Why?ā you asked quietly.
He shrugged, then immediately scowled like he hated himself for doing it. āBecause it was my fault.ā
You turned away, pretending to reorganize the cups. āYou already apologized.ā
āI know,ā he said. āIām bad at saying things right.ā
āThatās obvious.ā
A corner of his mouth twitched despite himself. He walked to the kiosk, ordered, then lingered by the counter instead of waiting at a table.
āSo,ā he said after a moment. āDid it⦠go okay?ā
You hesitated.
āā¦I think so,ā you admitted. āI wonāt know until grades are out.ā
He nodded slowly, absorbing that. āGood.ā
The printer beeped.
You slid his cup toward him without comment.
āā¦Thanks,ā he said, then paused. āFor not throwing it at me.ā
You huffed a quiet laugh before you could stop yourself.
He caught it. His eyes softened just a little.
āIāll make it up to you,ā he said again, gentler now. āNot today. Not like that. Just⦠eventually.ā
You studied him over the counter. Still loud. Still annoying. Still the guy who spilled coffee on your blouse and nearly wrecked your morning.
But also the guy who followed you to class without being asked. Who stood in the back like a silent apology.
āā¦Weāll see,ā you said.
Gotak nodded once, like he understood exactly what that meant.
He lingered by the counter, shifting his weight like he didnāt quite know what to do with himself now that the apology was out there.
Silence stretched.
āā¦I never said my name,ā he muttered.
You glanced up briefly, noncommittal. āYou donāt have to.ā
āI know. Just I caught your name from the slides earlierā He scratched the back of his neck anyway. "And it's weird if only I know your name.ā
You waited.
āGo Hyuntak,ā he said. āMost people call me Gotak.ā
The name clicked instantly, his teammates yelling it, the way it carried authority without him trying.
āOkay,ā you replied. āGotak.ā
Something in his expression shifted at that. Just a quiet acknowledgment.
āā¦Nice to meet you,ā he said, a beat late, like the words didnāt come naturally.
You raised an eyebrow. āWeāve met twice already.ā
āYeah,ā he admitted. āDidnāt go great.ā
A small pause.
āI play basketball,ā he added, gesturing vaguely to himself. āIn case that wasnāt obvious.ā
You snorted despite yourself. āI gathered.ā
He exhaled, relieved, and picked up his cup. āI wonāt bother you tonight.ā
āThat would be great,ā you said lightly.
He huffed a laugh short, surprised and headed toward the door. Before leaving, he stopped and looked back.
āFor what itās worth,ā he said, quieter now, āyou didnāt deserve that this morning.ā
Then he left, the bell chiming softly behind him.
You stood there for a moment longer than necessary, fingers resting against the counter.
Go Hyuntak.
Great, you thought. Now he has a name. And somehow, that made everything more complicated.
The bell rang again the next evening.
You didnāt look up right away.
āHello. Self checkoutās over there,ā you said out of habit, eyes still on the register screen.
āā¦Yeah. I know.ā
You paused.
That voice again. You looked up.
Gotak stood just inside the cafe, alone, hoodie zipped up this time, backpack hanging off one shoulder. He wasnāt loud or grinning. Wasnāt surrounded by chaos.
He looked awkward yet excited.
āOh,ā you said. āYou.ā
He nodded once. āMe.ā
A beat passed.
Then he turned and walked straight to the kiosk, tapping the screen with far more focus than necessary. You watched from behind the counter as he frowned at the options like theyād personally offended him.
The printer beeped.
You tore off the receipt. āAmericano. Iced.ā
He glanced over. āI didnāt...ā
āYou did,ā you cut in calmly.
He sighed. āFigures.ā
When you slid the cup across the counter, his fingers brushed the lid by accident. He pulled his hand back immediately, like heād touched something hot.
āā¦Thanks,ā he said.
āYouāre welcome,ā you replied, neutral.
He didnāt leave.
Instead, he hovered near the counter, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You wiped down the surface slowly, waiting him out.
āSo,ā he said eventually. āYou always work on Mondays and Tuesdays?ā
āUsually.ā
He nodded, filing that away. āMakes sense. Itās quiet.ā
āIt is,ā you agreed. āUntil it isnāt.ā
A corner of his mouth twitched. Before either of you could say more, the door flew open.
Noise flooded in. Sneakers, laughter and familiar voices.
āOh! There she is!ā
Baku spotted you instantly, grinning like heād just found something shiny. āYo! Cafe boss!ā
You blinked. āHi?ā
Gotak closed his eyes. āI told you idiots to wait.ā
āRelax,ā Baku said, already leaning on the counter. āWeāre just grabbing drinks.ā
Another teammate nudged Gotak. āHyung, is this the scary girl you told us about?ā
āI didnāt say scary,ā Gotak snapped.
āYou implied it,ā Baku said cheerfully.
You raised an eyebrow. āIām standing right here.ā
Baku beamed. āSee? Terrifying.ā
Gotak groaned and turned away, rubbing his face. āOrder and leave.ā
They didnāt. Instead, they crowded around the kiosk, arguing loudly about protein shakes and caffeine limits, completely ignoring the line they were creating out of thin air.
āGuys,ā you said evenly. āOne at a time.ā
Baku glanced at Gotak, impressed. āWow. Sheās got authority.ā
Gotak muttered, āTold you.ā
The orders went out. The team filtered toward a table near the window, still loud but at least seated.
Gotak lingered again.
āI should go,ā he said. āBefore they get worse.ā
āGood call.ā
He hesitated, then added, āSee you.ā
Not tomorrow or later. Just see you.
You nodded once.
āYeah.ā
The next day, you nearly ran into him in the hallway. Literally. You both stopped short at the same time.
āOh sorry,ā you said automatically.
āYeah,ā he replied, just as quick. An awkward half second passed. Students streamed around you like water around rocks.
āUh,ā he said, gesturing behind him. āIāve got practice.ā
āIām heading to the library.ā
āRight.ā
Another pause.
Then Bakuās voice echoed down the hall. āHYUNTAK! WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO YOUR CRUSH WITHOUT ME?ā
Gotak spun around. āSHUT UP.ā
You kept walking, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.
After studying at the library for two hours your phone buzzed.
Sis: are you on campus rn
You: unfortunately
Sis: good. iām outside the gym. come save me
You sighed, already turning on your heel.
When you reached the gym entrance, you spotted her immediately, arms crossed, expression unimpressed. In front of her stood a very familiar tall guy, animated hands, loud voice, zero shame.
āā¦so yeah,ā Baku was saying, grinning, āI donāt usually do this, but you seem cool, and I was thinking maybe coffee? Or dinner? Or both?ā
Your sister stared at him. āDo you always talk this much?ā
āOnly when Iām nervous,ā he said proudly.
She glanced past him and locked eyes with you. Help me.
Before you could step in, another presence slid into your peripheral vision.
Gotak.
He stopped short when he saw you, then looked between Baku and your sister like heād walked into the wrong scene.
āā¦What are you doing,ā he muttered.
Baku turned. āOh! Gotak. Perfect timing. This is...ā
āDonāt,ā Gotak said flatly.
Your sister raised an eyebrow. āIs he always like this?ā
āUnfortunately,ā you said, deadpan.
Gotak glanced at you. Then away. āYou know her?ā
āSheās my sister,ā your sister answered before you could, sticking her hand out toward Baku. āAnd youāreā¦?ā
āBAKU,ā he said immediately, shaking her hand way too enthusiastically. āBasketball. Business major. Extremely single.ā
Gotak groaned. āYou didnāt need to add that.ā
āYes, I did,ā Baku replied. āTransparency builds trust.ā
Your sister laughed despite herself.
You noticed Gotak notice it. He shifted his weight, jaw tight, eyes flicking between them like he was calculating damage control.
āSo,ā your sister said, pulling her hand back, ādo you flirt with every girl who stands still long enough?ā
Baku blinked. āOnly the pretty ones.ā
She stared at him for a second.
āā¦Bold,ā she decided.
āIs that a yes?ā he asked hopefully.
āItās a āyouāre weird,āā she said. āBut not in a bad way.ā
Baku beamed like heād just won a championship.
Gotak leaned closer to you, voice low. āIām so sorry.ā
āFor what?ā you asked.
āFor him.ā
You huffed a quiet laugh before you could stop it.
He caught it. Noticed it. Didnāt comment but something eased in his shoulders.
Your sister checked her phone. āI have to go. You coming?ā
āIn a second,ā you said. She walked off anyway.
Baku watched her go, dreamy. āI think she likes me.ā
Gotak snorted. āShe doesnāt.ā
āShe laughed.ā
āShe pitied you.ā
Baku ignored him and turned to you. āYour sisterās cool.ā
āShe knows,ā you replied.
An awkward pause followed as Baku finally took the hint and jogged to the gym.
That left you and Gotak standing there, the noise of the gym spilling out around you.
āā¦So,ā he said.
āSo,ā you echoed.
He rubbed the back of his neck. āYour presentation...ā
You tensed instinctively.
āI wasnāt eavesdropping,ā he added quickly. āI just heard some girls from my English class talking about it after.ā
āā¦Okay.ā
āThey said you did good,ā he continued. āLike. Really good.ā
You hadnāt expected that.
āOh,ā you said. āThanks.ā
He nodded once, satisfied, as if he had checked something off the list.
Awkward silence stretched between you two again.
āIāll see you around,ā he said eventually.
āYeah.ā
He took a step back, then hesitated. āUh. Good luck. With⦠everything.ā
You smiled for real.
āThanks, Gotak.ā
He froze for half a second at his name.
Then nodded and walked away, hands in his pockets, ears just a little red.
You watched him disappear into the crowd and exhaled.
It's kind of fascinating how often you run into each other. Maybe you always did and passed without acknowledging each other's presence.
Now that you know him, his name and the fact that he will be out somewhere in the campus, you somehow want to wander around the campus a little longer.
The gym was loud in that specific way that made your chest vibrate, sneakers squealing, whistles sharp, the bass of the crowd rolling like a wave. You hadnāt planned on coming. Your sister had.
āCome on,ā sheād said, already pulling you by the wrist. āYouāve been holed up all week. And the basketball teamās actually good this year.ā
You sat halfway up the bleachers, jackets folded on your laps, knees brushing because the place was packed. Your sister leaned forward, elbows on her thighs, scanning the court like she was looking for someone. You noticed. Of course you did.
Then the team ran out.
You didnāt mean to look for him. Your eyes just⦠landed there.
Go Hyuntak. Gotak was impossible to miss. Broad shoulders stretching his jersey, jaw set, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he was already irritated at something. He clapped once, hard, shouting something you couldnāt hear. The sound carried anyway.
Your sister nudged you. āIsnāt that the guy from the...?ā
You groaned. āDonāt.ā
āHeās kindaā
āDonāt,ā you repeated, but you were smiling despite yourself.
The game started too fast. Gotak played like everything was personal, driving hard into the paint, stealing passes with a sharpness that made the crowd gasp. Every time he scored, the bleachers erupted. Every time someone fouled him, he argued like his life depended on it, veins standing out in his neck.
He was hot headed. Youād been right.
Somewhere in the second quarter, you noticed another presence, louder, flashier. Number eight. Big grin, constant trash talk, blowing exaggerated kisses toward the stands after a clean three pointer.
Baku.
You felt your sister stiffen beside you.
āOh my god,ā she muttered.
You followed her line of sight. Baku was waving. Not generally. Specifically at her.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled something. You couldnāt hear the words, but the intent was painfully obvious. Your sister dropped her face into her hands.
āI hate him,ā she said. āWhy does he keep doing that?ā
āYou donāt hate him,ā you said dryly. āYouāre just mad itās working.ā
She shot you a look. āShut up.ā
On the court, Gotak noticed. You saw it happen for the split second glance toward the bleachers, the way his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. He shoulder checked Baku as they reset, muttering something that made Baku cackle and almost miss the inbound.
The crowd roared.
By halftime, your throat hurt from cheering. You hadnāt realized you were doing it until Gotak sank a brutal layup through contact and you were on your feet, shouting his name like youād been doing it your whole life.
He looked up then straight at you just for a moment.
It wasnāt a smile. Not really. Just the corner of his mouth lifting, like heād clocked something interesting and filed it away for later.
Your stomach flipped, sharp and unwelcome.
Your sister leaned close. āHe saw you.ā
āI know,ā you said, too quickly.
The second half was messier. Fouls, shoving, tempers flaring. At one point Gotak nearly got a technical, chest to chest with an opponent, Baku dragging him back by the jersey and yelling, āBro, relax! Sheās watching!ā
You nearly choked.
When the final buzzer went and their team won by six, the gym exploded. Music blared. People poured down toward the court.
Baku, sweat soaked and grinning, jogged straight toward the bleachers.
āHey!ā he called, stopping in front of you. He pointed at your sister like heād finally found Waldo. āYou came.ā
She crossed her arms. āYou play better when youāre not busy flirting with strangers.ā
āOuch,ā he said, hand to his chest. āSee, Gotak? Sheās mean to me.ā
Gotak came up behind him, towel slung around his neck, breathing heavy. Up close, he smelled like sweat and detergent and adrenaline.
āDonāt drag me into your mess,ā he said, then glanced at you. āYou two enjoy the game?ā
You nodded. āYou almost got thrown out.ā
He huffed a laugh. āWorth it.ā
Your eyes met again. Closer now. Something unspoken pressing between the noise and the heat and the fact that this definitely wasnāt the last time youād run into each other.
After that day, It started quietly. Too quietly to call it flirting.
Gotak begins showing up on your shifts. Not every day, only Mondays and Tuesdays, just often enough to feel intentional. Always around the time the campus cafe slows down, when the espresso machine sighs instead of screams.
He orders the same thing every time. Iced Americano, no syrup.
He sits at the same table in the corner. Back to the wall with his laptop open, notebook beside it, basketball bag at his feet like he doesnāt quite trust the world not to steal it.
At first, you pretend itās coincidence. By the third week, itās not.
āYou work late,ā he says one night, glancing at the clock as you wipe down the counter.
āHome is close, so not a huge problem,ā you reply.
He shrugs. āSomeoneās gotta walk you home.ā
You freeze for half a second. Long enough for your heart to misbehave.
It becomes a routine. Homework silence broken by small things, for instance him complaining about group projects, you venting about professors who think deadlines are suggestions for suffering. Sometimes he waits. Sometimes he doesnāt. When he does, he walks you back to home like itās the most natural thing in the world.
The tension creeps in sideways.
His knee brushing yours under the table when the cafe is empty. The way he hands you your jacket instead of tossing it.
How he remembers you are not liking the people from your group project and brings you a canned peach drink without being asked.
āYou donāt have to do that,ā you tell him.
āI know,ā he says, simple. āI want to.ā
Thatās the problem.
Your sister notices before you say anything.
āHe likes you,ā she declares, spoon paused mid air.
āHeās just nice,ā you argue.
She snorts. āHe glares at men who look at you for more than three seconds.ā
You choke on your drink.
Itās stupid. You know it is. But you start letting yourself imagine things. Him asking you out properly. A date that isnāt just studying side by side. His hand warm around yours instead of hovering a respectful inch away.
The cafe closes late, and Gotak waits like usual, leaning against the brick wall outside with his hands in his pockets. He doesnāt say anything when you lock up. He just falls into step beside you, matching your pace without trying.
Youāve walked this route together enough times now that the silence feels comfortable, familiar and most importantly safe.
āYou eat?ā he asks halfway down the path.
āYeah.ā
āGood.ā
Thatās it. Thatās the conversation.
You reach the corner where your paths split. He slows.
āText me when you get in,ā he says, casual like itās nothing.
āI will.ā
You do.
He always replies with a single š or good. Then goodnight.
Thatās how itās been.
So when you see him again later that week, youāre not expecting it to hurt.
Youāre crossing campus with your sister, arms linked, complaining about an assignment, when she stops short.
āOh,ā she says. āIsnāt that your man?ā
You follow her gaze.
Gotak is near the gym entrance, standing off to the side like heās waiting for someone. His hoodie is zipped up, backpack slung low, posture tense.
Then a girl approaches him. Sheās smiling in a comfortable that doesnāt need permission.
You slow without realizing it. Your sister keeps walking, not noticing. You let your arm slip from hers.
āGo on,ā you say quietly. āIāll catch up.ā
She nods, distracted, and disappears into the crowd.
You stay where you are. Half hidden behind a column. Close enough to see, far enough not to be seen.
The girl says something you canāt hear.
Gotak exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. He looks tired but not annoyed, just worn down.
She steps closer.
You tell yourself youāre overthinking it.
Then she reaches for him just⦠naturally. She wraps her arms around his waist like sheās done it before.
Gotak just stands there. Your breath catches.
He doesnāt hug her back. But he doesnāt move away either.
She says something again, quieter this time, face tilted up toward him. Her hand presses flat against his chest and starts leaning toward him on her tiptoes.
You donāt wait for the rest.
You turn away before your eyes can betray you, heart pounding so hard it makes you dizzy.
You donāt see him step back. Donāt hear him say her name sharply. Donāt hear the edge in his voice when he tells her to stop.
All you know is what it looked like. And thatās enough.
You donāt tell anyone. Even your sister, your friends and not even yourself, really.
You just⦠adjust.
You switch your cafe shifts to earlier ones on different days. You tell your manager itās for academic reasons. Itās not a lie. Just not the whole truth.
Gotak shows up on a Monday and doesnāt see you. He checks the schedule on the wall.
Shows up Tuesday. Still nothing.
By the third time, he asks.
āDid she quit?ā he says, frowning at the barista.
She shrugs. āNah. Different shifts now.ā
His chest tightens. He texts you.
"hey. didnāt see you this week."
"yeah, my schedule changed." you reply hours later.
"oh okay."
He tries again. Shows up earlier. Stays later. Misses part of practice once and gets chewed out for it.
After two weeks, he finally catches you restocking cups one afternoon.
āHey,ā he says, relief flashing across his face before he can stop it.
You barely look at him. āHi.ā
āYouāve been⦠busy,ā he says carefully.
āYeah.ā
Silence stretches.
āI did something wrong?ā he says eventually. Not accusing, just tired.
You shake your head. āNo.ā
āThen what...ā
āI should get back to work,ā you interrupt, already stepping past him.
Thatās when he knows you don't want him around you. That's when he knows he lost you but not knowing when and what went wrong.
And not knowing why hurts worse than anything else.
Baku figures it out last which is impressive, honestly.
āOkay,ā he says one day, sitting between you and your sister in the library like he belongs there. āSo something happened.ā
āNo it didnāt,ā you say.
āIt absolutely did,ā your sister adds.
Baku grins. āSee? Teamwork.ā
You glare at him. āGo away.ā
āNope,ā he says cheerfully. āBecause Gotakās been miserable, and youāve been weird, and I refuse to believe thatās a coincidence.ā
Your sister watches you closely. āYou saw something, didnāt you?ā
Your throat tightens. You donāt answer.
Thatās answer enough.
Baku leans back, hands behind his head. āBy any chance, was it a girl?ā
You freeze.
āā¦What girl?ā your sister asks.
Baku groans. āOh my god, you didnāt know? I think I told you about it when we were going to that...ā
āShut up. Know what?ā she presses.
āThat Gotakās ex transferred back this semester,ā Baku says. āThe one who dumped him for that baseball player right before finals last year?ā
Your chest twists.
āShe tried to get back together with him,ā Baku continues. āHe shut that down.ā
You laugh weakly. āThatās not what it looked like.ā
Baku sits up. āWhat did you see?ā
You hesitate. Then, quietly, āI saw her hug him. Then leaning for a kiss... And he didnāt stop her.ā
Your sisterās eyes soften immediately. Baku swears under his breath.
āHe froze,ā Baku says. āHe always does when she pulls that crap.ā
āThatās not better,ā you whisper.
āNo,ā your sister says gently. āBut itās not what you think either.ā
Baku leans forward. āHe told her no. Immediately after.ā
Your heart stutters.
āMaybe you ran without seeing the whole thing,ā Baku says, stating a fact
Silence crashes down.
Your sister reaches for your hand. āYou shouldāve told me.ā
āI didnāt want it to be real,ā you admit.
"Can we stop talking about it?" you stand up, grabbing your water bottle.
After you went to refill your water bottle, Baku exhales. āOkay. New plan.ā
Your sister blink. āWhat plan?ā
He grins. āWe fix this.ā Your sister nods. āTogether.ā
Somewhere across campus, Gotak sits alone on a bench, phone in his hands, staring at a text heās typed and erased five times.
He has no idea but help is finally on the way.
You donāt know it yet, but the next Thursday is doomed the moment your sister insists on dragging you to dinner.
āBaku invited us,ā she says, already slipping on her shoes.
āThatās suspicious,ā you mutter from the couch.
āHe invited me,ā she corrects, not looking at you. āYouāre collateral.ā
You narrow your eyes. āYou hate basketball boys.ā
āI hate loud ones,ā she says lightly. āHeās⦠loud in a manageable way.ā That alone is concerning.
By the time you realize youāre being set up, itās too late.
The restaurant is just off campus. Small and warm. It's the kind of place people go when they want to talk without being overheard.
Baku is already there when you arrive, standing up from the round table that's too big for two people to pull out chairs like heās auditioning to be someoneās decent boyfriend.
He grins when he sees your sister. Not his usual over the top grin but in a softer, quieter way. He hands her a menu before she even sits.
You clock it immediately. Since when does he do that?
āHey,ā he says to you, casually.
āHi,ā you reply, suspicious.
Your sister sits beside him without thinking. Their knees brush. Neither of them move away. Interesting.
āSo,ā Baku says, once youāve ordered. āFunny story.ā
āNo,ā you say immediately.
He laughs. āJust wait.ā
You donāt have to wait long. The door opens.
You know itās him before you see him.
The air shifts just enough to make your chest tighten. You look up on instinct.
Gotak freezes in the doorway.
Heās wearing a hoodie you recognize. The one he used to walk you home in. His eyes sweep the room, land on Baku, then... On you.
For half a second, he looks like heās been punched.
āā¦What?ā he mutters.
Baku raises his hand cheerfully. āHey, man! Over here.ā
Gotakās jaw tightens.Ā
You donāt look away. You canāt.
Your sister glances between you two, then smoothly reaches for her water like nothing is wrong.
āSit,ā Baku says. āFoodās good.ā
Gotak hesitates. You almost hope he wonāt.
He sits across from you anyways. The table suddenly feels very small.
For a while, no one says anything meaningful. Small talk fills the space, classes, practice, a joke about Baku getting fouled too easily.
Your sister laughs at something Baku says, leaning closer without realizing it. Her hand rests briefly on his arm. He stills like it matters.
You notice. Gotak notices too. His eyes flick to them, then back to you.
āYou changed your shifts,ā he says quietly.
You stiffen. āYeah.ā
āWhy?ā
Baku opens his mouth. Your sister kicks him under the table.
āGotak,ā she says evenly, āmaybe...ā
āNo,ā he cuts in, not raising his voice. āI want to hear it from her.ā
Silence drops like a held breath.
You stare at your plate. āI told you. School.ā
āThatās not all of it.ā
You look up then. āWhy does it matter?ā
His hands curl slightly on the table. āBecause you stopped looking at me.ā
Your heart stutters.
āThatās not...ā
āTwo weeks,ā he continues, controlled but fraying. āTwo weeks of pretending I donāt exist, and I donāt even know what I did.ā
Baku shifts uncomfortably. āOkay, maybe this isnāt...ā
āI saw you,ā you say suddenly.
Gotak stills.
āā¦Saw me?ā
Your voice is steady. It surprises you. āBy the gym with her.ā
The realization hits him instantly. āOh,ā he says. Then softer, āOh.ā
āYou two seemed so close,ā you continue, words tumbling now that theyāve started. āShe leaned in. And you didnāt stop her.ā
āI did,ā he says immediately.
āYou didnāt,ā you snap, louder than you meant to. A few heads turn. You lower your voice. āI was right there.ā
His brows knit together. āYou were?ā
āYes.ā
He exhales sharply, frustration flashing across his face. āMaybe you left before...ā
āI didnāt want to watch.ā
āI told her no,ā he says. āRight after.ā
You shake your head. āThatās not what it looked like.ā
āI froze,ā he admits. āFor a second. Even though she hurt me, she's still a woman. I can't just shove her off.ā
āThat second mattered.ā
Silence stretches.
Your sister reaches for Bakuās hand under the table. You catch it out of the corner of your eye. He squeezes back without thinking. They really are a team now.
Gotakās voice softens. āWhy didnāt you ask me?ā
You swallow. āBecause I didnāt want the answer.ā
He looks at you like that hurts worse than the misunderstanding.
āI wait for you,ā he says quietly. āI walk you home. I sit in that stupid cafe just to be near you. Do you really think Iād be doing that if I was with someone else?ā
You donāt answer. Because part of you already knows.
Baku clears his throat. āOkay. Iām gonna take your sister to the bathroom.ā
She gives him a look. āI donāt need...ā
āBathroom,ā he insists, standing and pulling her gently with him.
She sighs but goes, shooting you an encouraging look over her shoulder.
And then itās just the two of you.
Gotak leans forward slightly. āI didnāt push her away immediately because I was tired. Not because I wanted her.ā
Your throat tightens.
āShe hurt me,ā he adds. āYou didnāt.ā
That lands. Hard.
āI didnāt know,ā you whisper.
āI know,ā he says. āBut you couldāve told me.ā
āI was scared,ā you admit. āI was already letting myself want things.ā
He nods slowly. āMe too.ā
Baku and your sister return a moment later. āOkay,ā Baku says, clapping his hands softly. āWe done yelling?ā
No one answers.
"I think it's better if we just leave them alone, right?" your sister says looking at Baku. They left in a second.
Gotak stands. āWalk with me.ā
Itās not a question.
You hesitate, then stand too.
The night air is cool enough to sober you up from the warmth of the restaurant. Streetlights stretch long shadows across the sidewalk, and the city feels gentler at this hour, quieter, like itās giving the two of you space.
Gotak walks beside you, close but not crowding. His hands are in his jacket pockets again, shoulders relaxed in a way you donāt remember seeing before.
āYou didnāt have to walk me all the way,ā you say, even though you slow your steps just a little.
āI know,ā he answers. A pause. Then, softer, āI want to.ā
There it is again. That same simple sincerity. It still makes your chest feel strange.
You walk in silence for a bit, the comfortable kind this time. The kind that doesnāt ask to be filled.
āI was really nervous earlier,ā he admits suddenly.
You glance at him. āYou? You barely talked.ā
āExactly,ā he says dryly. āThatās how bad it was.ā
You laugh, and he smiles like he caused it on purpose.
āI kept thinking Iād mess it up,ā he continues. āSay something wrong. Push too hard. Or not enough.ā
You stop at a crosswalk, the light still red. He stops too, turning to face you properly. The city noise fades into background static.
āI meant what I said earlier,ā he says, serious again. āAbout wanting to do this right.ā
You hold his gaze. āOkay.ā
A beat. Then, quieter, āI donāt really know what right looks like. I just know I donāt want to lose you again.ā
Your breath catches. āYou didnāt lose me.ā
āI did,ā he says. āEven if it wasnāt on purpose.ā
The light changes, but neither of you moves.
āI shouldāve asked,ā you say. āI shouldāve trusted you enough to talk to you.ā
āYeah,ā he agrees gently. āBut next time, we will.ā
Next time. The words settle warmly between you.
You start walking again, fingers brushing. He hesitates for half a second, just long enough for you to notice and then... laces his fingers with yours. His hand is warm, steady and grounding.
You squeeze back.
When you reach your building, you linger by the entrance, neither of you quite ready to end the night.
āSo,ā you say, rocking back on your heels. āThis was⦠a date.ā
His mouth quirks. āNot an official one.ā
āAnd youāre going to ask me out officially?ā you tease.
He steps closer, voice low. āI was hoping youād let me.ā
You smile up at him. āI will.ā
Relief flashes across his face, unguarded and real. āGood.ā
He walks you to the door, waits while you unlock it. You turn back to him before going inside.
āText me when you get home,ā you say.
He grins. āI always do.ā
You hesitate, then lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek. Itās brief, sweet but when you pull back, his ears are bright red and he looks like he forgot how to breathe.
āGoodnight, Gotak.ā
āGoodnight,ā he manages, still stunned.
You go inside with a lightness in your chest you havenāt felt in a long time.
Outside, Gotak stands there for a second longer than necessary, phone already in his hand, smiling to himself like an idiot.
Genre: slow burn romance, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff
Summary: Started with an argument, both of Gotak and you never imagined to end up here.
Word count: 7k
Authors's note: Finally I wrote a fanfiction on my most beloved, favorite character of whc. Since I have been gone for a while, I tried to make it as long as possible. Also included a little bit of side couple plot with our Baku. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this.
The shift was supposed to be quiet. Since the Monday evenings on campus cafe is usually very quiet and empty, you often find yourself doing your assignments on the shift. No one came in the last one hour, so you were sitting deeply invested in your statistics homework. That was your first mistake.
The door swung open, bell ringing violently as a group of tall, loud guys poured into the cafe like they owned it. Sweat, laughter, the squeak of sneakers against tile.
Basketball team. Obviously.
You didnāt even look up as you called out, āHello, please order at the self checkout kiosk.ā
None of them acknowledged your presence or greeted you back. You rolled your eyes as they were talking loudly, laughing and hitting each other like elementary school students.
One of them leaned over the counter anyway.
āHey, can we get...ā
āNo,ā you said flatly. āwe only take orders through the machine over hereā
A pause. Then a laugh deep, rough, unmistakably amused.
You looked up.
He was big. Broad shoulders, messy hair still damp, deep blue hoodie half zipped, eyes sharp and a little too confident. He stared at you like you were interesting instead of irritating.
āWow,ā he said. āDidnāt know customer service came with attitude.ā
You smiled sweetly. āDidnāt know basketball players came with short temper.ā
His teammates lost it.
āGotak she got you.ā
āBro, that was clean.ā
His jaw tightened.
āWhatās your problem?ā he asked.
āMy problem,ā you replied calmly, āis six grown men yelling in my cafe.ā
He leaned in, lowering his voice. āThen quit.ā
You met his gaze, unflinching.
āOr you could behave like adults.ā
Something sparked in his eyes, annoyance mixed with something else.
He straightened slowly, like heād decided not to bite back yet.
āAdults, huh,ā he said, clicking his tongue. āYou talk a lot for someone working alone. The customers are waiting.ā
You shut your notebook with a soft thud and turned, meeting him eye to eye across the counter. Up close, he was even more irritating, too tall, too broad, too aware of it.
āAnd youāre loud for someone who canāt read a sign,ā you replied, pointing behind him. SELF CHECKOUT ONLY was printed in bold letters.
One of his teammates snorted.
āHyung, sheās right.ā
Another added, āJust use the machine, man.ā
He didnāt look away from you.
āNow please go stand in line like the rest of your friends.ā
A beat. Then laughter exploded behind him.
āDamn, Gotak, sheās scary.ā
āIs she your girlfriend already?ā
He shot them a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Silence followed instantly.
Gotak exhaled through his nose and stepped back, muttering, āUnbelievable,ā as he turned toward the kiosk.
You sat back down, heart thudding harder than you wanted to admit.
Ten minutes later, the printer beeped.
You stood, grabbed the tray, and called out, āAmericano. One protein bar.ā
Gotak walked over, took the cup and frowned.
āā¦This is iced.ā
You blinked. āYou ordered iced.ā
āI said hot.ā
āNo, you didnāt.ā
āYes, I did.ā
You stared at him. He stared back. The air tightened.
From behind him, one of his friends whispered, far too loudly,
āHyung, you definitely clicked iced.ā
Gotakās ears went red.
You tilted your head, lips curving. āWant to apologize to the machine too?ā
For a second, you thought he might actually snap. Instead, he grabbed the cup, took a long sip, then grimaced. āWhatever.ā
He paused, then added, quieter, āItās fine.ā
You didnāt know why that surprised you.
As he turned to leave, one teammate lingered behind, a taller guy with a friendly grin and zero shame.
āHey,ā he said, nodding toward you. āIām Baku. Sorry about him. Heās a bit grumpy today.ā
You glanced at Gotakās back, then back at Baku. āI noticed.ā
Baku laughed. āSee you around?ā
āProbably,ā you said.
Gotak shot Baku a look. āMove.ā
They left in a rush of noise and sneakers, the bell ringing violently again.
The cafe fell quiet.
You stared at the door for a second longer than necessary, then shook your head and reopened your statistics notes.
Great, you thought.
Another campus menace.
You didnāt know yet that this wouldnāt be the last time you saw him. Not even close.
Few days passed since that evening. Your life was going normally as usual. School, part time job, home and repeat again and again.Ā
But for last few days you barely slept.
Between rehearsing your slides in your head and triple checking your notes, your alarm felt like it went off the moment you closed your eyes. Still, you got up, showered, and dressed with the kind of care that made your stomach twist.
Black blazer. White blouse. Pressed slacks. Hair neat. Minimal makeup.
You looked⦠professional. Exactly the way your professor demanded.
Forty percent of your grade, you reminded yourself as you stepped out onto campus. Just get through today.
The hallway outside the lecture building was busy. People were rushing, laughing, cutting through crowds without looking.
You hugged your laptop to your chest and kept walking while repeating your speech in your head. That was your second mistake.
āYo, pass it!ā
Something collided with you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.
You stumbled back a step as a splash of cold liquid spread across your chest.
You froze. Slowly, horrifically, you looked down.
Iced coffee. Brown. Soaking into your white blouse.
āNo,ā you whispered.
āNo, no, noā
āOh... shit.ā
That voice.
You looked up.
The rude basketball player from that night stood in front of you, eyes wide, cup still tilted in his hand like he couldnāt believe what just happened. He was laughing with his friends a second ago. Now he looked⦠genuinely stunned.
āWatch where youāre going!ā you snapped, panic and fury crashing together.
āI was...ā He stopped himself, jaw tightening. āYou walked right into me.ā
āI was walking,ā you shot back. āYou were running like a child!ā
One of his friends burst out laughing behind him.
āHyung, you killed her outfit.ā
Gotak shot him a glare. āShut up.ā
You pressed your laptop tighter to your chest, heat burning behind your eyes.
āThis is a presentation,ā you said, voice shaking despite yourself. āA formal one.ā
He looked down again, really looked this time. The blazer. The blouse. The spreading stain.
His brows knit together.
āā¦You serious?ā he asked.
āYes, Iām serious!ā you hissed. āDo you think I dress like this for fun?ā
For a moment, he didnāt say anything. His friends shifted awkwardly, the humor draining from the situation.
āI didnāt mean to,ā he said finally, lower now. āIāll...ā
āYouāll what?ā you cut in. āUnspill it?ā
He opened his mouth, closed it again. Ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
āIām late,ā you said, stepping past him. āThanks. Really.ā
You walked away before he could say anything else.
You locked yourself in the nearest bathroom stall and stared at the stain like it might disappear if you glared hard enough.
It didnāt. You dabbed at it with wet paper towels. It only spread.
Your phone buzzed. A text from your teammate.
"You coming? You know you have to be here 10 minutes before the presentation starts, right?"
Your throat tightened. Get it together, you told yourself.
You straightened your blazer, took a deep breath, and went to class anyway.
You were already standing at the front of the room when the door opened.
Your professor glanced up sharply. āNo one should step into this classroom after me.ā
āSorry,ā a familiar voice muttered. Your heart sank.
Gotak slipped into the back row, basketball jacket thrown over one shoulder. His eyes flicked up and landed on you.
Recognition hit. Then his gaze dropped to the stain. His expression changed instantly.
You didn't know at the time that Gotak followed after you to your class (while skipping his own one) to explain the incident from earlier if your professor points out your coffee stained outfit.
You turned away, face burning, and began your presentation.
Your voice was steady. Your slides were clean. You answered questions clearly.
Still, you felt it the weight of eyes, the whisper of judgment, the humiliation crawling under your skin.
When you finished, the professor nodded once. āYou may sit.ā
As you walked back to your seat, you risked a glance toward the back.
He was watching you. His jaw was clenched, his posture stiff, guilt written all over his face.
When class ended, you packed up quickly, determined to leave before he could say anything.
Too late.
āHey,ā he said, stepping into your path. āWait.ā
You stopped but didnāt look at him.
āI said Iām sorry,ā he added, quieter now. āI really am.ā
You finally met his eyes.
āApologies donāt fix grades,ā you said flatly.
Something in his expression faltered.
āā¦Let me make it up to you,ā he said.
You laughed once, humorless. āYou canāt.ā
He hesitated. āAt least let me try.ā
You studied him for a second, really studied him.
Then you sighed.
āThis isnāt over,ā you said, stepping past him again.
And for the first time since you met him, he didnāt talk back. He stood there for a second after you passed him, fingers curling at his sides like he wanted to grab the words back and redo them properly.
āHey,ā he called again, not as sharp this time. āAt least...ā
You didnāt stop.
So he lets you go.
The rest of the day blurred together.
You replayed the presentation in your head over and over, every slide, every pause, every question you answered, trying to convince yourself the stain hadnāt mattered. Trying to believe the professor hadnāt noticed. Trying not to feel the humiliation simmering under your skin.
By the time your cafe shift rolled around that evening, exhaustion sat heavy in your bones.
Monday nights were quiet. Too quiet.
You wiped down the counter slowly, glancing at the door out of habit.
He wonāt come back, you told yourself. Why would he? And why am I expecting him anyways?
The bell rang.
You closed your eyes for half a second before looking up.
Gotak stood there alone this time. No teammates. No noise. Just a navy hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets.
He hesitated when he saw you, like he wasnāt sure if walking in had been a mistake.
āā¦Hey,ā he said.
You straightened, professional mask snapping into place. āSelf checkoutās over there.ā
He winced. āYeah. I know.ā
He didnāt move right away. Instead, he cleared his throat. āI didnāt skip class to mess with you earlier.ā
You paused. āThatās not comforting,ā you said, flat.
āI skipped it,ā he continued stubbornly, ābecause if your professor said something about the stain, I was gonna explain. That it was my fault.ā
Your hand tightened around the cloth you were holding.
āAnd if he didnāt?ā you asked.
āThen Iād shut up,ā he replied. āWhich I did.ā
You finally looked at him.
His jaw was tight, eyes serious, not defensive, not annoyed. Just⦠sincere. Uncomfortable with it, but sincere.
āā¦Why?ā you asked quietly.
He shrugged, then immediately scowled like he hated himself for doing it. āBecause it was my fault.ā
You turned away, pretending to reorganize the cups. āYou already apologized.ā
āI know,ā he said. āIām bad at saying things right.ā
āThatās obvious.ā
A corner of his mouth twitched despite himself. He walked to the kiosk, ordered, then lingered by the counter instead of waiting at a table.
āSo,ā he said after a moment. āDid it⦠go okay?ā
You hesitated.
āā¦I think so,ā you admitted. āI wonāt know until grades are out.ā
He nodded slowly, absorbing that. āGood.ā
The printer beeped.
You slid his cup toward him without comment.
āā¦Thanks,ā he said, then paused. āFor not throwing it at me.ā
You huffed a quiet laugh before you could stop yourself.
He caught it. His eyes softened just a little.
āIāll make it up to you,ā he said again, gentler now. āNot today. Not like that. Just⦠eventually.ā
You studied him over the counter. Still loud. Still annoying. Still the guy who spilled coffee on your blouse and nearly wrecked your morning.
But also the guy who followed you to class without being asked. Who stood in the back like a silent apology.
āā¦Weāll see,ā you said.
Gotak nodded once, like he understood exactly what that meant.
He lingered by the counter, shifting his weight like he didnāt quite know what to do with himself now that the apology was out there.
Silence stretched.
āā¦I never said my name,ā he muttered.
You glanced up briefly, noncommittal. āYou donāt have to.ā
āI know. Just I caught your name from the slides earlierā He scratched the back of his neck anyway. "And it's weird if only I know your name.ā
You waited.
āGo Hyuntak,ā he said. āMost people call me Gotak.ā
The name clicked instantly, his teammates yelling it, the way it carried authority without him trying.
āOkay,ā you replied. āGotak.ā
Something in his expression shifted at that. Just a quiet acknowledgment.
āā¦Nice to meet you,ā he said, a beat late, like the words didnāt come naturally.
You raised an eyebrow. āWeāve met twice already.ā
āYeah,ā he admitted. āDidnāt go great.ā
A small pause.
āI play basketball,ā he added, gesturing vaguely to himself. āIn case that wasnāt obvious.ā
You snorted despite yourself. āI gathered.ā
He exhaled, relieved, and picked up his cup. āI wonāt bother you tonight.ā
āThat would be great,ā you said lightly.
He huffed a laugh short, surprised and headed toward the door. Before leaving, he stopped and looked back.
āFor what itās worth,ā he said, quieter now, āyou didnāt deserve that this morning.ā
Then he left, the bell chiming softly behind him.
You stood there for a moment longer than necessary, fingers resting against the counter.
Go Hyuntak.
Great, you thought. Now he has a name. And somehow, that made everything more complicated.
The bell rang again the next evening.
You didnāt look up right away.
āHello. Self checkoutās over there,ā you said out of habit, eyes still on the register screen.
āā¦Yeah. I know.ā
You paused.
That voice again. You looked up.
Gotak stood just inside the cafe, alone, hoodie zipped up this time, backpack hanging off one shoulder. He wasnāt loud or grinning. Wasnāt surrounded by chaos.
He looked awkward yet excited.
āOh,ā you said. āYou.ā
He nodded once. āMe.ā
A beat passed.
Then he turned and walked straight to the kiosk, tapping the screen with far more focus than necessary. You watched from behind the counter as he frowned at the options like theyād personally offended him.
The printer beeped.
You tore off the receipt. āAmericano. Iced.ā
He glanced over. āI didnāt...ā
āYou did,ā you cut in calmly.
He sighed. āFigures.ā
When you slid the cup across the counter, his fingers brushed the lid by accident. He pulled his hand back immediately, like heād touched something hot.
āā¦Thanks,ā he said.
āYouāre welcome,ā you replied, neutral.
He didnāt leave.
Instead, he hovered near the counter, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You wiped down the surface slowly, waiting him out.
āSo,ā he said eventually. āYou always work on Mondays and Tuesdays?ā
āUsually.ā
He nodded, filing that away. āMakes sense. Itās quiet.ā
āIt is,ā you agreed. āUntil it isnāt.ā
A corner of his mouth twitched. Before either of you could say more, the door flew open.
Noise flooded in. Sneakers, laughter and familiar voices.
āOh! There she is!ā
Baku spotted you instantly, grinning like heād just found something shiny. āYo! Cafe boss!ā
You blinked. āHi?ā
Gotak closed his eyes. āI told you idiots to wait.ā
āRelax,ā Baku said, already leaning on the counter. āWeāre just grabbing drinks.ā
Another teammate nudged Gotak. āHyung, is this the scary girl you told us about?ā
āI didnāt say scary,ā Gotak snapped.
āYou implied it,ā Baku said cheerfully.
You raised an eyebrow. āIām standing right here.ā
Baku beamed. āSee? Terrifying.ā
Gotak groaned and turned away, rubbing his face. āOrder and leave.ā
They didnāt. Instead, they crowded around the kiosk, arguing loudly about protein shakes and caffeine limits, completely ignoring the line they were creating out of thin air.
āGuys,ā you said evenly. āOne at a time.ā
Baku glanced at Gotak, impressed. āWow. Sheās got authority.ā
Gotak muttered, āTold you.ā
The orders went out. The team filtered toward a table near the window, still loud but at least seated.
Gotak lingered again.
āI should go,ā he said. āBefore they get worse.ā
āGood call.ā
He hesitated, then added, āSee you.ā
Not tomorrow or later. Just see you.
You nodded once.
āYeah.ā
The next day, you nearly ran into him in the hallway. Literally. You both stopped short at the same time.
āOh sorry,ā you said automatically.
āYeah,ā he replied, just as quick. An awkward half second passed. Students streamed around you like water around rocks.
āUh,ā he said, gesturing behind him. āIāve got practice.ā
āIām heading to the library.ā
āRight.ā
Another pause.
Then Bakuās voice echoed down the hall. āHYUNTAK! WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO YOUR CRUSH WITHOUT ME?ā
Gotak spun around. āSHUT UP.ā
You kept walking, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.
After studying at the library for two hours your phone buzzed.
Sis: are you on campus rn
You: unfortunately
Sis: good. iām outside the gym. come save me
You sighed, already turning on your heel.
When you reached the gym entrance, you spotted her immediately, arms crossed, expression unimpressed. In front of her stood a very familiar tall guy, animated hands, loud voice, zero shame.
āā¦so yeah,ā Baku was saying, grinning, āI donāt usually do this, but you seem cool, and I was thinking maybe coffee? Or dinner? Or both?ā
Your sister stared at him. āDo you always talk this much?ā
āOnly when Iām nervous,ā he said proudly.
She glanced past him and locked eyes with you. Help me.
Before you could step in, another presence slid into your peripheral vision.
Gotak.
He stopped short when he saw you, then looked between Baku and your sister like heād walked into the wrong scene.
āā¦What are you doing,ā he muttered.
Baku turned. āOh! Gotak. Perfect timing. This is...ā
āDonāt,ā Gotak said flatly.
Your sister raised an eyebrow. āIs he always like this?ā
āUnfortunately,ā you said, deadpan.
Gotak glanced at you. Then away. āYou know her?ā
āSheās my sister,ā your sister answered before you could, sticking her hand out toward Baku. āAnd youāreā¦?ā
āBAKU,ā he said immediately, shaking her hand way too enthusiastically. āBasketball. Business major. Extremely single.ā
Gotak groaned. āYou didnāt need to add that.ā
āYes, I did,ā Baku replied. āTransparency builds trust.ā
Your sister laughed despite herself.
You noticed Gotak notice it. He shifted his weight, jaw tight, eyes flicking between them like he was calculating damage control.
āSo,ā your sister said, pulling her hand back, ādo you flirt with every girl who stands still long enough?ā
Baku blinked. āOnly the pretty ones.ā
She stared at him for a second.
āā¦Bold,ā she decided.
āIs that a yes?ā he asked hopefully.
āItās a āyouāre weird,āā she said. āBut not in a bad way.ā
Baku beamed like heād just won a championship.
Gotak leaned closer to you, voice low. āIām so sorry.ā
āFor what?ā you asked.
āFor him.ā
You huffed a quiet laugh before you could stop it.
He caught it. Noticed it. Didnāt comment but something eased in his shoulders.
Your sister checked her phone. āI have to go. You coming?ā
āIn a second,ā you said. She walked off anyway.
Baku watched her go, dreamy. āI think she likes me.ā
Gotak snorted. āShe doesnāt.ā
āShe laughed.ā
āShe pitied you.ā
Baku ignored him and turned to you. āYour sisterās cool.ā
āShe knows,ā you replied.
An awkward pause followed as Baku finally took the hint and jogged to the gym.
That left you and Gotak standing there, the noise of the gym spilling out around you.
āā¦So,ā he said.
āSo,ā you echoed.
He rubbed the back of his neck. āYour presentation...ā
You tensed instinctively.
āI wasnāt eavesdropping,ā he added quickly. āI just heard some girls from my English class talking about it after.ā
āā¦Okay.ā
āThey said you did good,ā he continued. āLike. Really good.ā
You hadnāt expected that.
āOh,ā you said. āThanks.ā
He nodded once, satisfied, as if he had checked something off the list.
Awkward silence stretched between you two again.
āIāll see you around,ā he said eventually.
āYeah.ā
He took a step back, then hesitated. āUh. Good luck. With⦠everything.ā
You smiled for real.
āThanks, Gotak.ā
He froze for half a second at his name.
Then nodded and walked away, hands in his pockets, ears just a little red.
You watched him disappear into the crowd and exhaled.
It's kind of fascinating how often you run into each other. Maybe you always did and passed without acknowledging each other's presence.
Now that you know him, his name and the fact that he will be out somewhere in the campus, you somehow want to wander around the campus a little longer.
The gym was loud in that specific way that made your chest vibrate, sneakers squealing, whistles sharp, the bass of the crowd rolling like a wave. You hadnāt planned on coming. Your sister had.
āCome on,ā sheād said, already pulling you by the wrist. āYouāve been holed up all week. And the basketball teamās actually good this year.ā
You sat halfway up the bleachers, jackets folded on your laps, knees brushing because the place was packed. Your sister leaned forward, elbows on her thighs, scanning the court like she was looking for someone. You noticed. Of course you did.
Then the team ran out.
You didnāt mean to look for him. Your eyes just⦠landed there.
Go Hyuntak. Gotak was impossible to miss. Broad shoulders stretching his jersey, jaw set, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he was already irritated at something. He clapped once, hard, shouting something you couldnāt hear. The sound carried anyway.
Your sister nudged you. āIsnāt that the guy from the...?ā
You groaned. āDonāt.ā
āHeās kindaā
āDonāt,ā you repeated, but you were smiling despite yourself.
The game started too fast. Gotak played like everything was personal, driving hard into the paint, stealing passes with a sharpness that made the crowd gasp. Every time he scored, the bleachers erupted. Every time someone fouled him, he argued like his life depended on it, veins standing out in his neck.
He was hot headed. Youād been right.
Somewhere in the second quarter, you noticed another presence, louder, flashier. Number eight. Big grin, constant trash talk, blowing exaggerated kisses toward the stands after a clean three pointer.
Baku.
You felt your sister stiffen beside you.
āOh my god,ā she muttered.
You followed her line of sight. Baku was waving. Not generally. Specifically at her.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled something. You couldnāt hear the words, but the intent was painfully obvious. Your sister dropped her face into her hands.
āI hate him,ā she said. āWhy does he keep doing that?ā
āYou donāt hate him,ā you said dryly. āYouāre just mad itās working.ā
She shot you a look. āShut up.ā
On the court, Gotak noticed. You saw it happen for the split second glance toward the bleachers, the way his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. He shoulder checked Baku as they reset, muttering something that made Baku cackle and almost miss the inbound.
The crowd roared.
By halftime, your throat hurt from cheering. You hadnāt realized you were doing it until Gotak sank a brutal layup through contact and you were on your feet, shouting his name like youād been doing it your whole life.
He looked up then straight at you just for a moment.
It wasnāt a smile. Not really. Just the corner of his mouth lifting, like heād clocked something interesting and filed it away for later.
Your stomach flipped, sharp and unwelcome.
Your sister leaned close. āHe saw you.ā
āI know,ā you said, too quickly.
The second half was messier. Fouls, shoving, tempers flaring. At one point Gotak nearly got a technical, chest to chest with an opponent, Baku dragging him back by the jersey and yelling, āBro, relax! Sheās watching!ā
You nearly choked.
When the final buzzer went and their team won by six, the gym exploded. Music blared. People poured down toward the court.
Baku, sweat soaked and grinning, jogged straight toward the bleachers.
āHey!ā he called, stopping in front of you. He pointed at your sister like heād finally found Waldo. āYou came.ā
She crossed her arms. āYou play better when youāre not busy flirting with strangers.ā
āOuch,ā he said, hand to his chest. āSee, Gotak? Sheās mean to me.ā
Gotak came up behind him, towel slung around his neck, breathing heavy. Up close, he smelled like sweat and detergent and adrenaline.
āDonāt drag me into your mess,ā he said, then glanced at you. āYou two enjoy the game?ā
You nodded. āYou almost got thrown out.ā
He huffed a laugh. āWorth it.ā
Your eyes met again. Closer now. Something unspoken pressing between the noise and the heat and the fact that this definitely wasnāt the last time youād run into each other.
After that day, It started quietly. Too quietly to call it flirting.
Gotak begins showing up on your shifts. Not every day, only Mondays and Tuesdays, just often enough to feel intentional. Always around the time the campus cafe slows down, when the espresso machine sighs instead of screams.
He orders the same thing every time. Iced Americano, no syrup.
He sits at the same table in the corner. Back to the wall with his laptop open, notebook beside it, basketball bag at his feet like he doesnāt quite trust the world not to steal it.
At first, you pretend itās coincidence. By the third week, itās not.
āYou work late,ā he says one night, glancing at the clock as you wipe down the counter.
āHome is close, so not a huge problem,ā you reply.
He shrugs. āSomeoneās gotta walk you home.ā
You freeze for half a second. Long enough for your heart to misbehave.
It becomes a routine. Homework silence broken by small things, for instance him complaining about group projects, you venting about professors who think deadlines are suggestions for suffering. Sometimes he waits. Sometimes he doesnāt. When he does, he walks you back to home like itās the most natural thing in the world.
The tension creeps in sideways.
His knee brushing yours under the table when the cafe is empty. The way he hands you your jacket instead of tossing it.
How he remembers you are not liking the people from your group project and brings you a canned peach drink without being asked.
āYou donāt have to do that,ā you tell him.
āI know,ā he says, simple. āI want to.ā
Thatās the problem.
Your sister notices before you say anything.
āHe likes you,ā she declares, spoon paused mid air.
āHeās just nice,ā you argue.
She snorts. āHe glares at men who look at you for more than three seconds.ā
You choke on your drink.
Itās stupid. You know it is. But you start letting yourself imagine things. Him asking you out properly. A date that isnāt just studying side by side. His hand warm around yours instead of hovering a respectful inch away.
The cafe closes late, and Gotak waits like usual, leaning against the brick wall outside with his hands in his pockets. He doesnāt say anything when you lock up. He just falls into step beside you, matching your pace without trying.
Youāve walked this route together enough times now that the silence feels comfortable, familiar and most importantly safe.
āYou eat?ā he asks halfway down the path.
āYeah.ā
āGood.ā
Thatās it. Thatās the conversation.
You reach the corner where your paths split. He slows.
āText me when you get in,ā he says, casual like itās nothing.
āI will.ā
You do.
He always replies with a single š or good. Then goodnight.
Thatās how itās been.
So when you see him again later that week, youāre not expecting it to hurt.
Youāre crossing campus with your sister, arms linked, complaining about an assignment, when she stops short.
āOh,ā she says. āIsnāt that your man?ā
You follow her gaze.
Gotak is near the gym entrance, standing off to the side like heās waiting for someone. His hoodie is zipped up, backpack slung low, posture tense.
Then a girl approaches him. Sheās smiling in a comfortable that doesnāt need permission.
You slow without realizing it. Your sister keeps walking, not noticing. You let your arm slip from hers.
āGo on,ā you say quietly. āIāll catch up.ā
She nods, distracted, and disappears into the crowd.
You stay where you are. Half hidden behind a column. Close enough to see, far enough not to be seen.
The girl says something you canāt hear.
Gotak exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. He looks tired but not annoyed, just worn down.
She steps closer.
You tell yourself youāre overthinking it.
Then she reaches for him just⦠naturally. She wraps her arms around his waist like sheās done it before.
Gotak just stands there. Your breath catches.
He doesnāt hug her back. But he doesnāt move away either.
She says something again, quieter this time, face tilted up toward him. Her hand presses flat against his chest and starts leaning toward him on her tiptoes.
You donāt wait for the rest.
You turn away before your eyes can betray you, heart pounding so hard it makes you dizzy.
You donāt see him step back. Donāt hear him say her name sharply. Donāt hear the edge in his voice when he tells her to stop.
All you know is what it looked like. And thatās enough.
You donāt tell anyone. Even your sister, your friends and not even yourself, really.
You just⦠adjust.
You switch your cafe shifts to earlier ones on different days. You tell your manager itās for academic reasons. Itās not a lie. Just not the whole truth.
Gotak shows up on a Monday and doesnāt see you. He checks the schedule on the wall.
Shows up Tuesday. Still nothing.
By the third time, he asks.
āDid she quit?ā he says, frowning at the barista.
She shrugs. āNah. Different shifts now.ā
His chest tightens. He texts you.
"hey. didnāt see you this week."
"yeah, my schedule changed." you reply hours later.
"oh okay."
He tries again. Shows up earlier. Stays later. Misses part of practice once and gets chewed out for it.
After two weeks, he finally catches you restocking cups one afternoon.
āHey,ā he says, relief flashing across his face before he can stop it.
You barely look at him. āHi.ā
āYouāve been⦠busy,ā he says carefully.
āYeah.ā
Silence stretches.
āI did something wrong?ā he says eventually. Not accusing, just tired.
You shake your head. āNo.ā
āThen what...ā
āI should get back to work,ā you interrupt, already stepping past him.
Thatās when he knows you don't want him around you. That's when he knows he lost you but not knowing when and what went wrong.
And not knowing why hurts worse than anything else.
Baku figures it out last which is impressive, honestly.
āOkay,ā he says one day, sitting between you and your sister in the library like he belongs there. āSo something happened.ā
āNo it didnāt,ā you say.
āIt absolutely did,ā your sister adds.
Baku grins. āSee? Teamwork.ā
You glare at him. āGo away.ā
āNope,ā he says cheerfully. āBecause Gotakās been miserable, and youāve been weird, and I refuse to believe thatās a coincidence.ā
Your sister watches you closely. āYou saw something, didnāt you?ā
Your throat tightens. You donāt answer.
Thatās answer enough.
Baku leans back, hands behind his head. āBy any chance, was it a girl?ā
You freeze.
āā¦What girl?ā your sister asks.
Baku groans. āOh my god, you didnāt know? I think I told you about it when we were going to that...ā
āShut up. Know what?ā she presses.
āThat Gotakās ex transferred back this semester,ā Baku says. āThe one who dumped him for that baseball player right before finals last year?ā
Your chest twists.
āShe tried to get back together with him,ā Baku continues. āHe shut that down.ā
You laugh weakly. āThatās not what it looked like.ā
Baku sits up. āWhat did you see?ā
You hesitate. Then, quietly, āI saw her hug him. Then leaning for a kiss... And he didnāt stop her.ā
Your sisterās eyes soften immediately. Baku swears under his breath.
āHe froze,ā Baku says. āHe always does when she pulls that crap.ā
āThatās not better,ā you whisper.
āNo,ā your sister says gently. āBut itās not what you think either.ā
Baku leans forward. āHe told her no. Immediately after.ā
Your heart stutters.
āMaybe you ran without seeing the whole thing,ā Baku says, stating a fact
Silence crashes down.
Your sister reaches for your hand. āYou shouldāve told me.ā
āI didnāt want it to be real,ā you admit.
"Can we stop talking about it?" you stand up, grabbing your water bottle.
After you went to refill your water bottle, Baku exhales. āOkay. New plan.ā
Your sister blink. āWhat plan?ā
He grins. āWe fix this.ā Your sister nods. āTogether.ā
Somewhere across campus, Gotak sits alone on a bench, phone in his hands, staring at a text heās typed and erased five times.
He has no idea but help is finally on the way.
You donāt know it yet, but the next Thursday is doomed the moment your sister insists on dragging you to dinner.
āBaku invited us,ā she says, already slipping on her shoes.
āThatās suspicious,ā you mutter from the couch.
āHe invited me,ā she corrects, not looking at you. āYouāre collateral.ā
You narrow your eyes. āYou hate basketball boys.ā
āI hate loud ones,ā she says lightly. āHeās⦠loud in a manageable way.ā That alone is concerning.
By the time you realize youāre being set up, itās too late.
The restaurant is just off campus. Small and warm. It's the kind of place people go when they want to talk without being overheard.
Baku is already there when you arrive, standing up from the round table that's too big for two people to pull out chairs like heās auditioning to be someoneās decent boyfriend.
He grins when he sees your sister. Not his usual over the top grin but in a softer, quieter way. He hands her a menu before she even sits.
You clock it immediately. Since when does he do that?
āHey,ā he says to you, casually.
āHi,ā you reply, suspicious.
Your sister sits beside him without thinking. Their knees brush. Neither of them move away. Interesting.
āSo,ā Baku says, once youāve ordered. āFunny story.ā
āNo,ā you say immediately.
He laughs. āJust wait.ā
You donāt have to wait long. The door opens.
You know itās him before you see him.
The air shifts just enough to make your chest tighten. You look up on instinct.
Gotak freezes in the doorway.
Heās wearing a hoodie you recognize. The one he used to walk you home in. His eyes sweep the room, land on Baku, then... On you.
For half a second, he looks like heās been punched.
āā¦What?ā he mutters.
Baku raises his hand cheerfully. āHey, man! Over here.ā
Gotakās jaw tightens.Ā
You donāt look away. You canāt.
Your sister glances between you two, then smoothly reaches for her water like nothing is wrong.
āSit,ā Baku says. āFoodās good.ā
Gotak hesitates. You almost hope he wonāt.
He sits across from you anyways. The table suddenly feels very small.
For a while, no one says anything meaningful. Small talk fills the space, classes, practice, a joke about Baku getting fouled too easily.
Your sister laughs at something Baku says, leaning closer without realizing it. Her hand rests briefly on his arm. He stills like it matters.
You notice. Gotak notices too. His eyes flick to them, then back to you.
āYou changed your shifts,ā he says quietly.
You stiffen. āYeah.ā
āWhy?ā
Baku opens his mouth. Your sister kicks him under the table.
āGotak,ā she says evenly, āmaybe...ā
āNo,ā he cuts in, not raising his voice. āI want to hear it from her.ā
Silence drops like a held breath.
You stare at your plate. āI told you. School.ā
āThatās not all of it.ā
You look up then. āWhy does it matter?ā
His hands curl slightly on the table. āBecause you stopped looking at me.ā
Your heart stutters.
āThatās not...ā
āTwo weeks,ā he continues, controlled but fraying. āTwo weeks of pretending I donāt exist, and I donāt even know what I did.ā
Baku shifts uncomfortably. āOkay, maybe this isnāt...ā
āI saw you,ā you say suddenly.
Gotak stills.
āā¦Saw me?ā
Your voice is steady. It surprises you. āBy the gym with her.ā
The realization hits him instantly. āOh,ā he says. Then softer, āOh.ā
āYou two seemed so close,ā you continue, words tumbling now that theyāve started. āShe leaned in. And you didnāt stop her.ā
āI did,ā he says immediately.
āYou didnāt,ā you snap, louder than you meant to. A few heads turn. You lower your voice. āI was right there.ā
His brows knit together. āYou were?ā
āYes.ā
He exhales sharply, frustration flashing across his face. āMaybe you left before...ā
āI didnāt want to watch.ā
āI told her no,ā he says. āRight after.ā
You shake your head. āThatās not what it looked like.ā
āI froze,ā he admits. āFor a second. Even though she hurt me, she's still a woman. I can't just shove her off.ā
āThat second mattered.ā
Silence stretches.
Your sister reaches for Bakuās hand under the table. You catch it out of the corner of your eye. He squeezes back without thinking. They really are a team now.
Gotakās voice softens. āWhy didnāt you ask me?ā
You swallow. āBecause I didnāt want the answer.ā
He looks at you like that hurts worse than the misunderstanding.
āI wait for you,ā he says quietly. āI walk you home. I sit in that stupid cafe just to be near you. Do you really think Iād be doing that if I was with someone else?ā
You donāt answer. Because part of you already knows.
Baku clears his throat. āOkay. Iām gonna take your sister to the bathroom.ā
She gives him a look. āI donāt need...ā
āBathroom,ā he insists, standing and pulling her gently with him.
She sighs but goes, shooting you an encouraging look over her shoulder.
And then itās just the two of you.
Gotak leans forward slightly. āI didnāt push her away immediately because I was tired. Not because I wanted her.ā
Your throat tightens.
āShe hurt me,ā he adds. āYou didnāt.ā
That lands. Hard.
āI didnāt know,ā you whisper.
āI know,ā he says. āBut you couldāve told me.ā
āI was scared,ā you admit. āI was already letting myself want things.ā
He nods slowly. āMe too.ā
Baku and your sister return a moment later. āOkay,ā Baku says, clapping his hands softly. āWe done yelling?ā
No one answers.
"I think it's better if we just leave them alone, right?" your sister says looking at Baku. They left in a second.
Gotak stands. āWalk with me.ā
Itās not a question.
You hesitate, then stand too.
The night air is cool enough to sober you up from the warmth of the restaurant. Streetlights stretch long shadows across the sidewalk, and the city feels gentler at this hour, quieter, like itās giving the two of you space.
Gotak walks beside you, close but not crowding. His hands are in his jacket pockets again, shoulders relaxed in a way you donāt remember seeing before.
āYou didnāt have to walk me all the way,ā you say, even though you slow your steps just a little.
āI know,ā he answers. A pause. Then, softer, āI want to.ā
There it is again. That same simple sincerity. It still makes your chest feel strange.
You walk in silence for a bit, the comfortable kind this time. The kind that doesnāt ask to be filled.
āI was really nervous earlier,ā he admits suddenly.
You glance at him. āYou? You barely talked.ā
āExactly,ā he says dryly. āThatās how bad it was.ā
You laugh, and he smiles like he caused it on purpose.
āI kept thinking Iād mess it up,ā he continues. āSay something wrong. Push too hard. Or not enough.ā
You stop at a crosswalk, the light still red. He stops too, turning to face you properly. The city noise fades into background static.
āI meant what I said earlier,ā he says, serious again. āAbout wanting to do this right.ā
You hold his gaze. āOkay.ā
A beat. Then, quieter, āI donāt really know what right looks like. I just know I donāt want to lose you again.ā
Your breath catches. āYou didnāt lose me.ā
āI did,ā he says. āEven if it wasnāt on purpose.ā
The light changes, but neither of you moves.
āI shouldāve asked,ā you say. āI shouldāve trusted you enough to talk to you.ā
āYeah,ā he agrees gently. āBut next time, we will.ā
Next time. The words settle warmly between you.
You start walking again, fingers brushing. He hesitates for half a second, just long enough for you to notice and then... laces his fingers with yours. His hand is warm, steady and grounding.
You squeeze back.
When you reach your building, you linger by the entrance, neither of you quite ready to end the night.
āSo,ā you say, rocking back on your heels. āThis was⦠a date.ā
His mouth quirks. āNot an official one.ā
āAnd youāre going to ask me out officially?ā you tease.
He steps closer, voice low. āI was hoping youād let me.ā
You smile up at him. āI will.ā
Relief flashes across his face, unguarded and real. āGood.ā
He walks you to the door, waits while you unlock it. You turn back to him before going inside.
āText me when you get home,ā you say.
He grins. āI always do.ā
You hesitate, then lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek. Itās brief, sweet but when you pull back, his ears are bright red and he looks like he forgot how to breathe.
āGoodnight, Gotak.ā
āGoodnight,ā he manages, still stunned.
You go inside with a lightness in your chest you havenāt felt in a long time.
Outside, Gotak stands there for a second longer than necessary, phone already in his hand, smiling to himself like an idiot.
Hiiii I love you writing, I feel youāre the only person who could do this right but Iād love a Baku fanfic with a foreigner gf. I feel like as a Hispanic in this era, we are so underrepresented š
Thank you so much <3
YO TE QUIERO;phm
Park humin x reader
Warnings; spanish words, humin being a cutie trying to learn spanish.
NOTE: Heyy, this is so cuteeee, i never thought i needed a humin speaking spanish (my native language) to be this happy. I really hope you like it.
IMPORTANT: I“LL BE CLOSING THE REQUEST FOR NOW, I'LL INFORM YOU GUYS WHEN THEY OPEN AGAIN, THANK YOU FOR REQUEST ME A LOT. ENJOY YOUR READING!!
Park Humin was not a guy who got scared easily. He had faced down rival gang leaders, fought three guys at once, and literally carried his friends out of danger on his back.
But right now? Right now, Baku was sweating. He was terrified. He was staring at the glowing screen of his laptop like it was a bomb about to explode.
"Okay, okay, think, Humin," he muttered to himself, grabbing his hair. "Yo... yo soy. TĆŗ... tĆŗ eres. Nosotros... nosotros... Āæsomos? No, wait, that sounds wrong. Why are there so many words just to say 'are'?!"
He groaned loudly and let his head hit his desk with a dull thud.
It all started two months ago. You had been dating the giant golden retriever of a boy for almost a year. You were a foreigner, an exchange student with Hispanic roots, and while your Korean was great, you still slipped into Spanish whenever you were surprised, angry, or really happy.
Especially when you called him pet names. Sometimes you would play with his hair and call him "Mi osito" or "Mi amor," and he would just blush and nod, completely clueless but totally in love.
So, Baku did what any overly dedicated, totally whipped boyfriend would do. He secretly enrolled in an online beginnerās Spanish class.
His plan was flawless. He was going to study in secret for a few months, and then, on your one-year anniversary, he was going to drop a perfectly pronounced, super romantic speech in Spanish. He imagined you crying happy tears, jumping into his arms, and kissing him all over his face.
It was a great plan.
Until the midterm exam.
Which was tomorrow.
And Baku hadnāt realized that Spanish grammar was basically a torture device designed to destroy his brain.
"Why does a table have a gender?" Baku whispered to his empty room, staring at his flashcards. "Why is la mesa a girl? Itās a piece of wood!"
Suddenly, the front door of his apartment clicked open. He had given you a spare key a few weeks ago, and he heard your familiar footsteps in the hallway, followed by the rustling of plastic bags.
"Humin! I brought tteokbokki!" your voice rang out, cheerful and bright.
Baku panicked. He scrambled to gather his flashcards, his heavy textbook, and his notebook. He tried to shove them under his bed, but his giant hands knocked over his trash can instead.
"Humin? Are you in there?"
The bedroom door pushed open. You walked in holding a bag of spicy street food, wearing one of his oversized hoodies that went down to your thighs. You stopped in your tracks, blinking at the chaotic scene.
Baku was frozen on the floor, half under his bed, holding a bright yellow book with the words Ā”ESPAĆOL PASO A PASO! printed in giant red letters on the cover.
You looked at him. You looked at the book. You looked at the whiteboard on his wall that had verb conjugations scribbled in his messy handwriting.
"Baku..." you said slowly, your eyes wide. "Are you... studying Spanish?"
His face instantly turned the color of a tomato. He slowly pulled himself out from under the bed, still clutching the book to his chest like a shield. He couldn't even look you in the eye. He just stared at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"I... uh. No?" he lied horribly.
"Humin," you giggled, setting the food down on his nightstand. You walked over to him and gently pulled the textbook from his massive hands. "You literally have 'El verbo ESTAR' written on your forehead in dry-erase marker."
He quickly wiped his forehead, his blush deepening. "Man, I'm so stupid," he mumbled, looking totally defeated. "It was supposed to be a surprise."
Your heart completely melted into a puddle. You dropped the book on the floor and threw your arms around his neck. He immediately wrapped his thick arms around your waist, burying his face in your shoulder, still embarrassed.
"You were learning Spanish for me?" you asked softly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Yeah," he grumbled against your hoodie. "You always say cute things to me, and I never know what they mean. I wanted to surprise you for our anniversary. I wanted to say... I wanted to say a whole speech. But your language makes zero sense, _____."
You laughed out loud, a happy, bright sound that made him look up at you.
"Oh, my sweet baby," you cooed, kissing his nose. "That is literally the cutest thing anyone has ever done for me. But why do you look like you're about to cry?"
"Because I have an online exam tomorrow!" he wailed, acting like a giant baby. He dropped his head back onto your shoulder. "If I fail, I get kicked out of the program. And I don't know anything. I don't know the difference between por and para. I don't know why hacer changes to hago. It's a nightmare!"
You couldn't help it. You started laughing so hard your stomach hurt. The image of Eunjang's strongest boy, the guy who made bullies pee their pants, being defeated by Spanish verbs was just too funny.
"Don't laugh at me!" he whined, picking you up by the waist and dropping you onto his bed. He hovered over you, pouting. "I'm suffering here."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," you gasped, trying to catch your breath. You reached up and cupped his cheeks, squishing his face. "I'll help you. I am a native speaker, after all. What's your exam on?"
His eyes lit up like you had just handed him a million dollars. "Really? You'll help me?"
"Of course I will, idiota," you smiled, pulling him down for a proper kiss. His lips were soft and eager, and he kissed you back with a desperate kind of relief, his heavy body pressing you gently into the mattress.
"Okay, enough of that," you said, pushing his chest playfully after a minute. "Go get your laptop. Let's see how bad the damage is."
Ten minutes later, you were sitting cross-legged on his bed, the laptop resting on a pillow between you. Baku was sitting right next to you, his chin resting on your shoulder, watching the screen like a lost puppy.
"Alright, let's start with pronunciation," you said, opening his study guide. "Read this sentence for me."
The sentence was: El perro corre rƔpido por el ferrocarril. (The dog runs fast through the railroad).
Baku squinted at the screen. He took a deep breath, looking extremely serious.
"El... pe-ro... co-re... rap-i-do... por el... fello-ca-lil?"
You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop the giggles, but a snort escaped anyway.
Baku groaned, hiding his face in your neck. "I told you! I sound like an idiot!"
"No, no, baby, it's okay!" you promised, petting his hair. "You just have to roll your R's. Like this: Rrrrr."
Baku lifted his head and tried. "Dddrrr. Grrrr. Rwaaa." He sounded like an engine trying to start in the middle of winter.
"Put your tongue behind your top teeth and blow air," you instructed, turning your head to face him.
He stared at your mouth intensely, then tried again. "Rrrr... perro."
"Yes! Exactly!" you cheered, clapping your hands.
Baku's chest puffed out with pride. He smirked. "I did it. Do I get a prize?"
"A prize?"
He tapped his lips with a thick finger. "A kiss for every word I say right. That's the only way my brain works."
You rolled your eyes but smiled. "Fine. Say ferrocarril."
"Felloā wait. Fer-ro-ca-rril."
He struggled, but he got it out. You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. He chased your lips, trying to deepen the kiss, but you pulled back.
"Ah ah ah. Only a quick kiss. Focus, Humin."
He huffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Fine. What's next?"
"Okay, let's check your vocabulary," you said, scrolling down. "How do you say 'I am 18 years old'?"
Baku smiled confidently. "Oh, I know this one! It's easy." He cleared his throat. "Tengo dieciocho anos."
You froze.
You stared at him. He smiled back, looking extremely proud of himself, completely unaware of what he had just said.
"What?" he asked, his smile faltering when you didn't say anything. "Did I say it wrong?"
You slowly put your face in your hands and started shaking with laughter. You were laughing so hard that no sound was coming out, and tears were literally forming in the corners of your eyes.
"_____! What did I say?!" Baku panicked, grabbing your shoulders. "Stop laughing! I thought I said years!"
"Humin," you wheezed, wiping a tear from your cheek. "You... you have to put the little squiggle over the 'n'. The Ʊ. It's aƱos."
"Yeah, that's what I said. Anos."
"No, baby. AƱos means years. Anos means... anuses."
Baku stared at you. His brain buffered for a solid five seconds.
Then, his entire face, down to his neck, turned a violent shade of red. He threw his hands over his face, falling backward onto the mattress with a loud groan.
"I told my teacher I had 18 anuses yesterday on a voice recording," he whispered into his hands. "I'm going to drop out of school. I'm moving to the mountains. You can never look at me again."
You couldn't breathe. You were laughing so hard you fell back onto his chest, clutching your stomach. "Oh my god... I would pay money to see your teacher's face!"
"Stop it!" he whined, wrapping his arms around you to hide you against his chest, embarrassed but refusing to let you go. "This language is a trap! One little squiggle and suddenly I'm a medical anomaly!"
"It's okay, it's a common mistake!" you giggled, kissing his jawline since his face was still hidden. "I promise I won't tell Gotak or Sieun. They would never let you live it down."
"If you tell Gotak, I will literally throw him out a window," Baku mumbled, finally peeking out from behind his hands. He looked at you, his dark eyes softening when he saw how happy you were. Even though he felt dumb, seeing you laugh like this made the humiliation totally worth it.
"Okay, let's keep going," you said, sitting up and pulling him up with you. "Let's practice some conjugations. If you get three in a row right, you get a real kiss."
Baku's competitive side instantly woke up. He sat up straight, rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for a fight. "Bring it on."
For the next two hours, his room turned into a battlefield of grammar.
"To eat. Comer," you prompted. "Say 'We eat'."
"Nosotros... comemos!"
"Yes! Good boy. To sleep. Dormir. Say 'She sleeps'."
Baku frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in heavy concentration. "Ella... dorme? Wait, no. The 'o' changes. Ella duerme!"
"Correct!" You leaned in and gave him a soft, lingering kiss. His large hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. He smiled into the kiss, totally addicted to the reward system.
But it wasn't all smooth sailing.
"Okay, to want. Querer. Say 'I want you'."
Baku looked at you. His eyes darkened a little, his gaze dropping to your lips. "Yo... quiero... tĆŗ?"
"Almost," you teased, tapping his nose. "It's Yo te quiero. The 'te' goes before the verb."
"That's stupid," he argued, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling his waist. "Why is it backwards? In Korean it's straightforward. In English it's straightforward."
"Don't question the language, just learn it," you laughed, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. "Say it."
"Yo te quiero," he said, his voice dropping an octave, sounding rough and incredibly sexy. His pronunciation was still a little clumsy, but the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat.
"Muy bien," you whispered.
He didn't wait for his reward kiss this time. He took it. He pulled you down by the waist, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His hands were warm as they slid under your hoodie, resting on the bare skin of your lower back. You sighed into his mouth, running your fingers through his messy, dark hair.
He tasted like the mint gum he always chewed and felt like home. You could feel his heart beating fast against your chest. For a guy who looked so scary to the rest of the world, he was so incredibly gentle with you.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless.
"Was that correct?" he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.
"Perfect," you smiled.
"Can I stop studying now? My brain is melting."
"Humin, your exam is tomorrow."
"I know enough to pass. Probably. Maybe," he groaned, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his arms around you like a giant koala. "I'm so tired. Feed me tteokbokki."
You laughed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the food you had brought earlier. It was lukewarm now, but neither of you cared. You sat on his lap, feeding him spicy rice cakes with a toothpick while he held you securely.
"You really didn't have to do this, you know," you said softly, popping a fish cake into your own mouth. "Taking a whole class just to talk to me. You're already the best boyfriend ever."
Baku chewed and swallowed before looking at you seriously.
"I wanted to," he said simply. "You always make me feel special. You make that whole foreign country feel like home for me, even though you're the one who's far from home. I wanted to... I don't know. I wanted to be closer to your world."
You felt a lump form in your throat. You put the food down and hugged him tight, burying your face in his neck. "You're gonna make me cry, you idiot."
He chuckled, rubbing your back with his large hand. "Don't cry. Tell me something in Spanish."
You pulled back and looked into his eyes.
"Eres el amor de mi vida," you said softly.
Baku smiled. He didn't know the exact translation, but he knew the word amor, and he knew the word vida. And he knew the way you looked at him.
"I know what that means," he whispered, leaning in to kiss you again. "And you're mine, too."
***
The next day, Baku sat in the school library with his laptop, staring at the final screen of his online exam.
Sieun and Gotak were sitting across from him, eating snacks.
"Is he still doing that weird test?" Gotak whispered loudly to Sieun. "He's been staring at the screen for ten minutes without blinking."
"He's processing," Sieun said calmly, flipping a page in his book. "Leave him be."
Baku took a deep breath and clicked 'Submit'.
A little loading circle spun on the screen. His heart was pounding louder than when he fought Baekjin.
The screen refreshed.
Score: 78% (C+)
Status: PASS
Baku let out a massive breath, slumping back into his chair. He rubbed his face with his hands, a huge, goofy grin spreading across his face.
"I passed," he whispered. Then, louder, "I passed! I'm a bilingual genius!"
"You got a C+, Humin," Sieun pointed out without looking up. "That's hardly a genius level."
"Shut up, Sieun, a pass is a pass!" Baku slammed his laptop shut and jumped up, grabbing his backpack. "I gotta go find _____!"
He ran out of the library, leaving Gotak confused and Sieun slightly amused.
Baku found you by your locker, putting away your books. You looked up when you heard his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway.
"Humin! How did it go?" you asked, closing your locker.
He didn't answer with words. He walked right up to you, picked you up by the waist, and spun you around, making you squeal. He put you down, grinning from ear to ear.
"”Setenta y ocho por ciento!" he announced proudly, butchering the pronunciation but getting the point across.
"You passed!" you cheered, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him right there in the middle of the hallway. You didn't care who was watching. "I'm so proud of you, mi amor!"
"I literally guessed on the subjunctive part, but your kisses gave me good luck," he laughed, holding you close.
"Well, you deserve a reward," you smiled, playing with his collar. "What do you want to do to celebrate?"
Baku looked down at you, his eyes full of adoration. He leaned in close to your ear.
You giggled, your heart swelling with so much love you thought it might burst. His accent was terrible. His grammar was incredibly simple.
But to you? It was the most perfect Spanish in the world.
"Muchos besos it is, mi osito," you whispered back, kissing his cheek. "Let's go."
As you walked out of the school hand in hand, Baku realized that he might never fully understand the complicated grammar rules, and he would probably embarrass himself a hundred more times trying to roll his R's.
But as long as he could make you smile like that? He was willing to learn every word in the dictionary.
- this man would know about valentineās day, but genuinely would not give a damn
- not until you bring it up ofc.
- feel like youād have a conversation like āi think valentine is such a cute day!ā and heād be like āā¦really?ā
- since that minute, he thinks how to ask you properly to not disappoint you.
- would genuinely search for ideas how to ask you to be his valentine, finds everything extra cringe and would just go for it.
- heād ask you the night before the 14th, with you lying in bed with him, minding your own business. heād just blurt out ādo you want to spend valentineās day with me?ā
- once you say yes, he smiles a little in relief when you donāt see him.
- spoiler: he was nervous. this guy genuinely thought youād say no (even if you were HINTINGGG)
- if the weather is tolerable, heād still buy you any drink you want and would want to be outside, or go to a park to sit down.
- he would actually love every minute of the day, talking about nonsense with you while holding hands like a couple in the movies.
- would want you to stay overnight, but is embarrassed to ask.
- best believe his cheeks will stay pink all day. will blame it on the cold wind.
- is surprisingly soft with you the whole day. this man just fell in love with valentineās day, even if he thought itās just a normal day. (he wonāt admit it.)
ā¦
ā” GIFT(S) FROM HIM !! (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶)
your favourite hot drink (as mentioned before)
a chocolate box - valentine themed
maybe a little keychain w something you like!!
- his gifts wouldnāt be extra, but meaningful : )
- this ahh acting all nonchalant about it like he wasnāt planning it since the half of january.
- if you try to ask if heās planning something, he will deny to the point where you start thinking he actually wonāt ask you out.
- āwho knows? never cared about that stuff.ā
- actually planned to ask you in school, but chickened out.
- plan b: call you at midnight, asking you to be his valentine. that also didnāt work because he fell asleep.
- so, when he woke up in the morning, the first thing he did was panic over it.
- heād text you in a hurry, hoping you werenāt mad (how could you be?)
suho: hey y/n iām so sorry i fell asleep yesterday please donāt be mad
suho: letās go out, iāll treat my valentine extra nicely today. deal?
ā¦
ā” HOW WOULD THE DAY GO? (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶)
- first off, heād stop by your house with a bouquet of your favourite flowers as he explains how he wanted to ask you.
- then, if you wanted to go somewhere specific, heād prefer your place. but if the decision is up to him? youāre going to a restaurant.
- thinking either some fancier one, since he has some money from his part time jobs or to his grandmaās, since he knows the place and will be sure that he wonāt disappoint.
- at least he wouldnāt need to pay HAHA
- i also see him taking a walk with you, holding hands and all that.
- youāll end up by the han river, sitting at a bench with a beautiful view in front of you.
- expect him to pull you into his arms if you dare to shiver once. will fist bump the air in his head when he feels you lean into him.
- loves the intimacy of it all and is glad that youāre satisfied.
ā¦
ā” GIFT(S) FROM HIM !! (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶)
bouquet of your favourite flowers
a valentine themed chocolate box (will demand from you to share w him)
a BIG kiss š
- would think of the whole date as a gift, but little additions wouldnāt hurt him.
- this cutie will genuinely get all advices from suho.
- he just really wants to impress you and wants you to feel loved on this special day !!
- would practice lines in front of the mirror like a loser, then getting embarrassed and thinking about it in his head instead.
- for the whole week before valentine, heād be rambling to sieun and suho about it constantly.
- when beomseok starts to spiral, sieun will reassure him and will give him more honest advices than suho.
- in the morning of february 14th, youād hear a knock on your door. when you open, youāll be welcomed with a big bouquet of flowers and a plushie of your favourite animal with a heart : )
- āi hope you like these, i think you said they were your favouritesā oh, sorry. do you want to be my valentine?
ā¦
ā” HOW WOULD THE DAY GO? (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶)
- he would steal lots of money from his dad to really treat you. you couldnāt really tell him otherwise, soā¦
- will buy you anything you want, take you wherever you want, but in the evening, youāll end up in a fancy restaurant.
- yes, this man made a whole ass reservation.
- heās really excited, let him be šš
- would ask to spend the night at your place, since he doesnāt want to leave yet.
- when you get to your place (if you say yes), you both end up watching something cute on your tv and falling asleep, tangled in each other.
- trust that heās beaming inside the whole day. will take many photos for memories, will post them later on his instagram story.
ā¦
ā” GIFT(S) FROM HIM !! (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶)
big bouquet of your favourite flowers + a plushie (as mentioned before)
to be honest, anything you wish for. he has the money and will treat you with anything.
- feel like heād be so new to all of this, so when you bring up valentineās day, he has no idea what to say.
- knows what itās about but never bothered to ask a girl to be his valentine.
- has a moment of weakness and asks baku for advice -> regrets it immediately, scolds him, takes a mental note to NEVER ask him again for any relationship advice.
(also got himself into an endless teasing from him)
- but what he takes as advice is buying you something in advance and will think of a way to ask you so youāll remember it forever.
- i see him actually waiting for you somewhere where you donāt expect him to be (if youāre going from practice for example) with a small amount of your favourite flowers and your favourite drink/snack/anything else you think of
- the minute you say yes, he hugs you immediately.
- if anyone glares your way, heād actually smirk for himself, proud of what he had done.
ā¦
ā” HOW WOULD THE DAY GO? (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶)
- a day in the movie theatre!
- itās because he doesnāt need to be outside in such cold weather, loves being close to you and watching a movie at home TODAY feels very low effort.
- would let you pick the movie, will complain about it to tease you.
- throughout the movie, will make you sit closer to him and will hold your hand from the beginning.
- sharing a popcorn ofc (˶ᵠᵠįµĖ¶)
- will walk you home like a gentleman, letting you hook your arm trough his to keep you warm.
- or will give you his jacket.
- expect a minute of vulnerability and love in your doorstep when he has to go.
- donāt point it out or heāll stop immediately LOL
ā¦
ā” GIFT(S) FROM HIM !! (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶)
small amount of your favourite flowers (as mentioned before)
something thatās your favourite as a sign of care (as mentioned before)
also a BIG kiss : ) - more affectionate than usual
- you know those couple photos where the boy is holding a paper with some cheesy pick up line that leads into asking to be their valentine?
- heās doing that. this man doesnāt care about embarrassing himself in front of the whole school.
- but of course heās not doing it alone.
- the boys will help him out (mostly juntae, because heās the only one who thinks itās such a cute idea)
- would actually be a nervous wreck about it alone at home, overthinking everything.
- but even if the guys helped him out, i just know something would be incorrectly spelled on that paperš
- jumps, yells, hugs you in happiness when you say yes.
ā¦
ā” HOW WOULD THE DAY GO? (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶)
- wants to spend the whole day with you, so good luck getting rid of him.
- will be okay with every activity!
- you guys would get lunch together (either something from the convenience store or in his dadās restaurant!)
- then heād want to spend some time at the basketball court & just have fun
- in the evening, youāll end up at an arcade with him trying to win you a plushie holding a heart. youād have to physically hold him down to not spend all of his money.
- even if he wins or not, he would still get it for you. loves seeing you happy.
- youāll end up spending the night with him, too. heās enjoying this a bit too much and doesnāt want the moment to end so quickly.
- this dumbass would forget that he had another thing to give you at home - youād receive it later that week.
ā¦
ā” GIFT(S) FROM HIM !! (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶)
valentine themed plushie (as mentioned before)
his hoodie - heād give you so you have something comfortable to sleep in, only for him to say you can keep it the next day.
a small, cute necklace that he saved his money for. š„¹
Hii!! I always see that you give Park Humin a breeding/pregnancy kink and I was wondering if you could make a fic exploring that with the reader getting pregnant and maybe a glimpse of their life together after the baby is born?? Tysm if you end up doing this š„¹š„¹
baby fever | Park Humin x gn!reader
pairing: dad!park humin x parent!reader
wc: 1.4k genre: slice of life, fluff
warnings: mentions of pregnancy (not really much plot with it tho)
a/n: English isn't my first language but I didn't find any grammar mistakes soooo
@anon: first off, we as a society decided that Humin would have a breeding kinkā I did not make that up
plus I despise the pregnancy trope but this is lowkey cute so (also I didnāt name the baby cause thatās not my decision to make)
You knew that unprotected sex would eventually lead to pregnancy. You were aware that your mountain of a boyfriend did his best to keep you from using condoms because he loved the idea of you carrying his child.
Somehow, though, looking at the piece of plastic between your fingers, trailing that aggressively red mark that lined the display, you refused to comprehend.
āThis is not real.ā, you assured yourself, rereading the back of the packaging for what felt like the hundredth time.
Two lines means pregnant.
Yeah, thereās no way to misinterpret that. Somehow the tiles beneath your bare thighs grew colder, frowsy, making you shiver in more than just the morning cold. You had to tell someone.
Your parents wouldnāt make a big fuss about it, after all you were almost done with uni and Humin was doing good with his basketball scholarship as well, his grades rather second rank yet not too bad ever since you were assigned as his tutor.
And sometimes he went to help out his dad in the restaurant as well, making money on those days. It wasnāt too bad, right?
Now you just had to break the news to him.
The wind kept snapping strands of your hair into your face, the rough facade of the gym biting dents into your skin. Small annoyances like these would usually leave you unfazed but the anticipation curled into your stomach like a fist, leaving your blood boiling.
A loud thud of the door opening had captured your attention and like on autopilot you approached Humin, watching him balance his phone between his lips while he fumbled with the zipper of his gym bag.
Like the first time you had laid eyes on him in that library across campus, only one thought crossed your mind: what an idiot.
His eyes lit up when he saw you and even though you were barely a meter away, he waved.
You couldnāt approach this slowly, so bandaid confession it was.
āIām pregnant.ā, you cooed, voice barely louder than a whisper.
Baku drew his eyebrows together, unsure if heād heard you right. The second the words seemed to seep through the wheels spinning in his head, his eyes widened.
āIt took?ā, he roared, catching his phone without looking down as he grinned from ear to ear.
You exhaled, swatting at his chest as the words settled in.
āDonāt joke.ā, you pleaded, a tension you hadnāt noticed slowly slipping of your shoulders and allowing you to breathe again.
Humin draped one of his huge arms around your shoulders, expression faltering to something more serious.
āYou wanna keep it?ā
You shrugged, then feigned thinking about it like you hadn't weighed the pros and cons all morning and nodded. He kissed your temple.
āThen stop worrying. Weāll do just fine. Iāll make sure of it.ā
š š š š š
The kid was growing heavy in your arms, the tiny hiccups of whining emitting from her not really helping either.
āCalm down.ā, you tried to soothe her, rocking her back and forth like Humin would always do, but it was in vain, she just started flapping her arms instead, making your heart leap out your chest as you barely caught your grip to prevent her from colliding with the ground.
Tightening your clasp around her, you hurried your steps, eyes widening as the outline of the college gym finally came into your vision.
The loud bustle of voices mixing ascended from the entrance, growing eruptive as the door pushed open. Humin was dressed in casual wear, gym bag slung around his shoulder as he held the door open for the rest of his team to stumble through, enthralled in a story he was telling.
It was something you couldnāt explain but at the sound of her fatherās voice, her little head snapped up, nonsense bubbling from her as she reached for him through your arms.
Humin spun on his heels, eyes wide as he noticed you both. In one step he was with you, placing a peck on your cheek before grabbing the kid off you, pressing a kiss into her hair before tossing her in the air, catching her effortlessly.
Even though your heart leapt at that, you couldnāt deny the effect, her sobs replaced through bubbly laughs.
Hyuntak who had walked next to Humin then waved at her, waiting for his friend to hold her still before pinching her cheeks with a smile that left dimples engraved in his own. In response the girl erupted in squeaky giggles.
The corners of your mouth twitched as you watched the familiar scene unfold before you.
āSheās so in love with you.ā, you joked, caressing the little strands of hair that started to get thicker on her tiny head.
Hyuntak shrugged his shoulders in an excessive manner as he nodded along.
āSheās so young and already knows whatās up. How is it even possible sheās yours?ā, he then teased Humin, earning a glare from his friend.
āYouāre lucky Iām carrying a baby.ā
āI know.ā, Hyuntak chuckled, wiggling his fingers in goodbye before heading for his car.
As you and Humin started walking home as well, you stretched your arms, sore from carrying the wiggly baby all the way. āShe kept crying until we got here.ā, you told him.
His head snapped towards you and then right to the kid, checking for any signs of uneasiness.
āIs she sick?ā, he asked, voice dripping in worry. You shook your head. āNo.ā, trailing as you watched his enormous hand basically cover her entire face while he held the back of his hand on her forehead.
āDo you even know what youāre checking?ā
āShhh.ā, he cooed, removing the huge hand from the babieās forehead before slapping it on yours, probably aiming to make out the difference in heat.
āThatās not how that works.ā
He just chuckled, resettling the kid to sit basically on his biceps while he held her back with a stretched hand. You almsot giggled at how ridiculous the difference in size looked but the laugh caught in your throat as your feet left the ground.
You shrieked, but Humin didnāt care as he heaved you on his back, holding your leg until you tightened the hold of your knees against his ribs. While you rested your head in the crook of Huminās neck, you smiled against his skin, watching the baby drowse into sleep in her dadās hold.
š š š š š
Washed up and rubbing the stray wetness out your hairstrands, you walked into your shared bedroom, stopping short as you noticed the lack of mass in Huminās side of the bed. Sighing, you tossed the towel into your laundry basket and crossed the floor to the adjoining room.
An array of colorful items and decorations smiled at you as you walked through the strings of beads dangling off the doorless frame, chuckling at the sight that awaited you.
On her back, with a pacifier wiggling with every of her shallow breaths, laid your daughter, the huge blanket covering her up to her stomachā an old one that you had used to shreds during your pregnancy.
Next to her, the reason she wasnāt lying in her crib, but on the slim bed you had occupied during bonding time, scared to leave her side for even a second before you started sleeping in the room next door.
With his head on a makeshift pillow (a blanket over his biceps), he laid there, droopy eyes fixed on his daughter while he ran one finger along her puffy cheek, poking the squishy fat without starting her awake.
With your arms crossed before your chest, you scoffed.
āDonāt you dare fall asleep.ā, you reminded him in a whisper.
He didnāt even startle at your presence, keeping still as he repsonded.
āI wasnāt-ā
āYouāll crush her.ā, you continued, stalking closer to lightly slap his back.
āI wasnāt gonna fall asleep.ā, he repeated, chuckling as you tried to drag him off the mattress in vain. āYouāre waking her.ā
You stopped abruptly, faint memories of a crying baby fogging your mind. You wanted to play with her and woke her up a few months agoā the type of mistake you only make once.
Humin wiggled his brows at you as he looked over his shoulder to take in your face expression.
Carefully you went over to the other side, sliding your hands under the tiny body before lifting her up, setting her down into her bed with the delicacy like you were handling porcellain.
As you turned around, Huminās lips were curled into a smile, eyes sparkling in awe as he looked at you.
āWhat?ā, you asked through a shoulder shrug, biting your lip to keep quiet as he pulled you on the mattress next to him.
āLetās sleep here tonight.ā, he proposed, draping a heavy arm around your chest to make you immobile.
āSheās not sick, though.ā, you argued, earning a scoff from Humin. āYeah, she is.ā
You didnāt argue back, letting him drape the blanket over you both as you barley fit into the bed together, snuggling up into each other until you fell asleep to one anotherās heartbeat.
a/n: this is sooo cheesy, I think I just fell in love with this character all over again
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can we have established relationship with baku? and a scene where the reader was put in a dangerous situation when baku was distancing himself while he was in union?
EUJANG'S MONSTER;phm
Park Humin x Reader
Warnings: Distant relationship, curse words, description of violence.
NOTE: Hey! sorry for the late response, i hope you like it!!
Your phone screen lit up for the umpteenth time that night, but it wasn't what you were hoping for. It was a notification from a food delivery app, not a message from Humin.
You sighed, tossing your phone onto the bed in frustration.
Youād been dating for almost a year. At first, everything was a mess, but it was fun. Baku was... Baku.
Sleepy, boisterous, a bit of an idiot sometimes, but he was always there. If you were cold, he gave you his jacket. If someone bothered you, that someone ended up with a punch to the face.
But ever since he joined the "Union," things had changed.
Na Baekjin wasn't a leader who gave much time off. And Baku, being the "King" of Eunjang and now a key piece in the organization, was always busy.
"I'm doing this so we can have some peace," he had told you the last time you saw him, four days ago. "If I control this, no one will mess with us."
The problem was that, in order to "protect us," he had disappeared.
There were no more tteokbokki dates. No more afternoons playing video games at his place. There were only short messages: "I'm busy," "I'm running late," "I can't make it, let's go out another day."
You felt like a ghost's girlfriend.
You looked at the clock. 11:30 PM.
Your stomach rumbled. You hadn't eaten dinner, waiting to see if heād deign to show up, but it was clear today wasn't going to be the day either.
Frustration mixed with hunger and anger. "Screw it, Park Humin," you muttered, getting out of bed.
You put on an oversized gray hoodieāironically, one he had left the last time he was at your place almost two weeks agoāand some comfy pants. You needed air. And you needed spicy instant ramen. Badly.
You left your apartment. The night air was cool, but not freezing. The streets in your neighborhood were relatively quiet, lit by the neon glow of promotional signs and yellowish streetlamps.
You walked toward the usual convenience store, the one three blocks away. While you walked, you checked your phone one more time.
"Going to the store, let me know if you get home." (Sent 11:35 PM)
No reply. Not even left on "read."
You shoved the phone into your hoodie pocket with rage. Was it so hard to send an emoji? An "ok"? A "be careful"?
You got to the store, bought two cups of spicy ramen, a banana milk, and some chocolates. You sat at one of the plastic tables outside to eat.
The ramen burned, but the spice helped clear your mind. You watched a few cars pass by and drunk people stumbling out of distant bars.
"Should I break up with him?" you asked your cup of noodles.
It was a question haunting your mind. You loved Humin. God, you loved him so much. But this distance... this feeling of being the last priority on his gangster to-do list was slowly killing you.
You finished eating and threw away the trash. You felt a bit better, less empty.
You started walking back home. It was already 12:15 AM. The streets were lonelier now.
That was when you felt that prickle on the back of your neck.
Someone was walking behind you.
At first, you thought it was paranoia, but when you sped up, the footsteps behind you sped up too.
Your heart leaped into your throat. You weren't in the main Union zone; you lived in the border territory, an area where guys from other schools who hated Baekjin and the Eunjang crew sometimes sneaked in.
You turned a corner, hoping to lose them.
Bad idea.
The street was cut off by construction work. It was a dead end right now.
You spun around quickly to go back, but three figures blocked the alley entrance.
"Well, well... look who we have here..." one of them said. He was wearing a southern technical school uniform, unbuttoned and dirty. They smelled like cheap cigarettes and alcohol.
"Isn't this the Eunjang King's girl?" asked the second one, a skinny guy with a rat face who looked at you in a way that made you feel instantly filthy.
Your blood ran cold.
That was the cruel irony of your situation.
Baku had distanced himself to "protect" you, so his problems wouldn't be yours. But by being his girlfriend, you had a target on your back that screamed, "Look at me, I'm the girlfriend of the asshole you hate." And now that he wasn't by your side, that target shone brighter than ever.
"I don't know what you're talking about..." you said, trying to keep your voice from trembling. You took a step back. "Let me pass."
"Pass?" The third one, the biggest, laughed and spat on the ground. "We've been wanting to send a message to the 'King of Eunjang' for weeks. But that bastard never shows up..."
He took a step toward you.
"But you... you appeared right in front of us..."
Panic exploded in your chest. You shoved your hand into your hoodie pocket, searching for your phone. Your fingers were shaking so hard you almost dropped it.
"If you come any closer, I'm calling the police!" you screamed.
"Call whoever you want, sweetheart." The skinny guy lunged at you and grabbed your wrist before you could unlock the screen.
"Let me go!"
You thrashed hard, kicking him in the leg. The guy groaned and let go for a second. You took the chance to run toward the only open gap, but the big guy grabbed you by your hood and yanked you back violently.
You fell onto the concrete floor, scraping your palms and calves. Your phone went flying and landed a couple of meters away, screen lit up.
"Damn bitch!" the skinny one growled, rubbing his leg. "Now you're really going to regret that."
You crawled backward until your back hit some sacks of cement from the construction site. You were cornered.
"We're going to take some pictures with you," the leader said, pulling out his own phone. "And we're going to send them to Baku. Let's see if he's still so arrogant when he sees his girlfriend crying."
"Get away!" you screamed, even though you knew they wouldn't listen. "Get away from me!"
The big guy crouched down and grabbed your face with a rough hand, squeezing your cheeks.
"Scream louder. No one is coming. Your boyfriend is too busy playing gangster. He left you all alone, didn't he?"
Tears started falling down your face. They were right. He had left you alone.
The skinny guy grabbed your arms to pin you down while the other one prepared to... whatever he had in mind.
You closed your eyes, waiting for the blow, waiting for the pain.
And then, it rang out.
It wasn't a police siren. It was a sound much more terrifying and, at the same time, the most beautiful sound in the world.
It was the sound of a bone breaking.
And then, an agonized scream.
You opened your eyes.
The guy who was holding the phone to take the picture was no longer standing. He was against the opposite wall as if heād been hit by a truck. He smashed into the bricks and slumped down unconscious.
At the alley entrance, under the flickering light of the streetlamp, stood a silhouette.
He was wearing a white t-shirt, hands in his pockets, and his hair was a bit messy.
"Hey..." His voice was low, slurred, as if he had just woken up from a nap. But there was an edge to it that made the other two guys freeze. "You guys are being really loud."
It was Baku.
But it wasn't the Baku who smiled at you and stole kisses whenever you walked together. It was the Baku everyone feared.
The Monster of Eunjang.
"B-Baku!" the big guy stammered, letting go of your face as if it burned.
Park Humin walked toward them slowly. He didn't run. He didn't look worried. He looked... bored. And that made him a thousand times more terrifying.
He stopped two meters away from you all. His dark eyes scanned the scene. He saw your scraped knees. He saw your bleeding hands. He saw the tears on your face. And he saw the guy's hand still near your arm.
The indifference vanished.
His expression changed to one of pure, absolute, and terrifying fury.
"Get your dirty hands off my girlfriend," he whispered.
The skinny guy tried to pull out a knife.
"Don't come any closer! I'm going toā!"
He didn't finish the sentence. Baku moved with inhuman speed. Before you could blink, Baku's fist connected directly with the skinny guy's nose. The sound was wet and crunchy. The guy fell to the ground, unconscious before he even hit the cement.
The big one was left. The leader. He was shaking.
"Wait! We were just playing!" he yelled, backing away. "We didn't know thatā!"
"Didn't know what?" Baku tilted his head. "Didn't know what? Didn't know that if you touch my girlfriend, you get a beating?"
Baku delivered a kick to his stomach that knocked all the air out of him. The guy doubled over. Then, Baku grabbed his head and slammed a knee into his face. The guy fell next to his friends.
Three against one. And it had lasted less than thirty seconds.
Silence returned to the alley, broken only by the groans of pain from the guys on the ground.
Baku stood there for a moment, breathing a bit heavily, his knuckles stained with blood that wasn't his. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back, and turned toward you.
You were still on the ground, trembling, in shock.
He ran to you and dropped to his knees, ignoring the dirt on the floor.
"..." His voice was no longer that of the monster everyone feared. It was your boyfriend's. Full of panic. ", look at me. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
He touched your face with shaking hands, checking you frantically.
"Humin..." you sobbed, throwing yourself into his arms.
He caught you, hugging you so tight he almost squeezed the air out of your lungs, but you needed to feel that to know you weren't dreaming and that he was really there.
You buried your face in his neck, smelling his cologne mixed with sweat.
"I'm sorry... shit, I'm so sorry..." he murmured against your hair, kissing your head over and over. "I was late. I'm an idiot."
You pulled back a little, still crying.
"You didn't answer!" you screamed at him, hitting his chest weakly. "I texted you all week! And you couldn't answer a single one, you idiot!"
Baku looked at you, and you saw something you'd never seen in him: guilt. A devastating guilt that made you feel guilty yourself for yelling at him like that.
"Baekjin ordered us to turn off our phones." He took your scraped hands and kissed them, not caring about the blood. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, I'm sorry I didn't answer the messages..."
He looked at the guys lying on the ground with renewed hatred.
"I'm going to kill them... I swear I'm going to wake these bastards up and kill them one by one for touching you."
He made a move to get up, but you grabbed his shirt.
"No!" you begged. "No, Humin. Let's go. Please. I just want to go home..."
Baku stopped. He looked into your eyes, saw the terror you still held. He nodded slowly, swallowing his rage for your sake.
"Okay. We're leaving."
He crouched down, picked up your phone from the groundāthe screen was crackedāand put it in his pocket. Then, without a word, he slipped one arm under your knees and the other around your back, lifting you up bridal style.
"I can walk..." you murmured.
"And I can carry you..." His tone allowed for no argument. "You hurt your knees. You don't have to walk."
You leaned against his chest, listening to his heart beat wildly.
"Where are we going?"
"To my place. It's empty..." Baku started walking, leaving the alley and leaving them behind. "No one's going to bother us there."
The ride was silent. Baku didn't let go of you for a second. He hailed a taxi and kept you on his lap the whole way, his arm around you like a barrier, glaring at anyone who dared to look in your direction.
You arrived at the apartment he had managed to rent with his new "job." It was a simple place, a bit messy as always, but it smelled like him. And best of all, his drunk father wasn't there screaming and demanding attention.
He took you to the bathroom and sat you on the closed toilet lid.
"I'm going to get the first aid kit," he said, and ran out.
He returned in a minute with a box of supplies and a damp towel. He knelt in front of you, between your legs.
With a gentleness that contrasted with the violence he had just unleashed, he started cleaning your knees with the towel.
"It's gonna sting a little," he warned softly.
You hissed when the antiseptic touched the raw skin. Baku stopped immediately and blew softly on the wound.
"Sorry, sorry..."
You looked at him. His brow was furrowed, focused on healing you as if it were the most important mission of his life. He looked tired. He had dark circles under his eyes. Life in the Union was wearing him down.
"Humin..." you said softly.
He looked up. His eyes met yours and filled with tears. Park Humin, the guy who never cried, had glassy eyes.
"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "If I had arrived a minute late... if they had weapons..."
He rested his head in your lap, hugging your waist. You felt his shoulders shaking.
"It's my fault." His voice came out muffled by your hoodie. "All of this. I pushed you away so youād be safe. I thought if they didn't see me with you, if I focused on the Union work, you'd be safe. But I'm stupid. I left you alone. I left you exposed."
You stroked his soft hair, feeling your heart break for him.
"I was so mad at you..." you admitted. "I thought you didn't care anymore. That the Union was more important."
Baku snapped his head up.
"What?" He looked at you in horror. "How can you think that? The Union is shit. It's dirty work. You are... you are the only good thing I have. You're the only reason I put up with Baekjin and his bullshit."
He rose a bit and cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.
"Listen to me closely, ____. There is nothing, absolutely nothing in this world more important than you. I stayed away because I was afraid you'd get hurt because of me. But I see I was an idiot. By staying away, I only put you in more danger and made you feel bad..."
He rested his forehead against yours.
"I'm not doing that again. Screw the Union. If I have to take you with me everywhere, I will. If I have to put Go Tak on bodyguard duty when I can't be there, I will. But I'm never leaving you alone again."
"Promise..." you whispered.
"I swear on my life." Baku kissed you.
It was a salty kiss from the tears, but full of desperation and love that left you breathless. His lips were soft, insistent. He kissed you as if he wanted to erase the memory of those guys, as if he wanted to remind you who you belonged to and who belonged to you.
When you pulled apart, both of you were panting a little.
"Let me finish fixing you up..." he said, returning to his task with your knees and hands.
When he finished, he put some colorful band-aids on you, which he claimed he bought because they were on sale. But you knew he did it because they were Iron Man ones.
"Done." He looked at you. "Hungry?"
You laughed a little, a nervous but relieved laugh.
"I already ate... I just want to sleep. A lot."
"Let's sleep then."
Baku took you to his bed. He lent you a clean t-shirt because your hoodie was dirty. He took off his sweaty shirt and stayed in sweatpants.
You lay down. Baku's bed was always full of pillows, which you always criticized because you didn't know how he could sleep like that, but it was always the most comfortable place in the world.
He pulled you into his chest, wrapping you in his strong, heavy arms. He threw a leg over yours, pinning you in a protective bear hug.
"Comfortable?" he asked against your ear.
"Yes."
"Does anything hurt?"
"No. I'm okay."
There was a moment of silence. You could feel his breathing slowing down, exhaustion overtaking him now that the adrenaline was fading.
"Humin..." you murmured.
"Mmm?"
"Those guys... They said they wanted to send you a message."
You felt him tense up for a second, but then he stroked your back to calm you.
"Don't worry about them anymore." His voice turned dark and serious for a moment. "Tomorrow I'll make sure everyone knows that if anyone looks at you wrong, all of Eunjang is going to come down on them. No one is ever going to touch you again, my love... Not while I'm with you."
He kissed the back of your neck.
"Now sleep... I'm sleepy too..."
You relaxed, closing your eyes. The fear was gone. You knew he would keep his word to take care of you. You knew that tomorrow, when you woke up, youād have to talk more about how to manage his schedule, but for now, that didn't matter.
Park Humin was back. And this time, he wasn't planning to let go.
"I love you..." you whispered, half-asleep.
He let out a soft chuckle, that laugh that made you fall in love with him over and over again.
"I love you too. And forgive me for being an idiot."
Summary: A bad night forces Baku to ask for help somewhere heās never stayed before, leading to a quietly emotional first sleepover with his girlfriend that becomes much sweeterāand saferāthan either of them expected.
Word count: 800 (why is this so satisfying)
āāāāāāāāāāāāāāā
Baku didnāt usually call you at night.
Not unless it was over something smallāmemes, show recaps, reminders.
But tonight, when your phone lit up with his name, there was something in the timing⦠something tight in your chest telling you this wasnāt casual.
You answered immediately.
āBaku?ā
His voice was low, rough. āHey⦠are you home?ā
You sat up straighter. āYeah. Whatās wrong?ā
There was muffled shouting behind him. Something slammed. You heard him suck in a shaky breath.
āIs Gotak with you?ā he asked.
āNo, heās not. Why? What happened?ā
āI tried calling him,ā Baku said quietly. āTwice. He didnāt pick up.ā
Your heart dropped.
He never liked saying things out loud, but you knew what it meant.
His dad. Another bad night.
āI think he's out of town for the weekend,ā Baku continued. āHe mentioned going to see his aunt...ā
āAnd his placeā¦?ā you asked gently.
āHeās not home, so I canāt get in,ā Baku muttered. āHe offered to leave the spare key somewhere but itās already late and Iā¦ā
He trailed off, voice cracking at the edge. āI donāt really wanna go near my place again.ā
You closed your eyes, trying not to let your voice shake. āBaku.ā
āIāll figure something out,ā he said quickly, defensively. āIāve slept outside before, so itās not a bigāā
āNo.ā Your tone came out firmer than you expected. āYouāre not sleeping outside.ā
He went silent. Completely.
Then, softly:
āā¦Then what am I supposed to do?ā
āYouāre coming here.ā
Another pause.
A breath.
Like the idea hadnāt even occurred to him.
āI donāt wanna dump all this on you,ā he muttered. āYou shouldnāt have to deal withāā
āYouāre my boyfriend,ā you said. āCome over.ā
Silence againāthis time the kind where you could almost feel him leaning into your voice.
āCan I really?ā he whispered.
āYes, Baku. Right now.ā
A shaky exhale. āOkay⦠Iāll be there in five.ā
āāāāāāāāāāāāāāā
You left the door unlocked and waited, pacing, twisting the strings of your hoodie. When footsteps sounded outside, you opened the door before he even touched the handle.
His hood was up, eyes tired, shoulders tight. He walked in slowlyāthen immediately wrapped his arms around you. No words. No hesitation. Just full-body exhaustion and relief pressed into you.
You held him, rubbing slow circles on his back āYouāre safe now,ā you whispered.
He didnāt speak for almost a full minute. Then, muffled against your shoulder:
āSorry. I just⦠needed to be somewhere that wasnāt there.ā
āYou never have to apologize for that.ā
He pulled back a little, avoiding your eyes. āYou shouldnāt have to handle me like this.ā
āI donāt have to,ā you corrected. āI want to.ā
His eyes darted to youāsurprised, grateful, overwhelmed.
He didnāt argue again.
āāāāāāāāāāāāāāā
You made him tea while he sat on the edge of your bed, watching you with soft, tired eyes.
When you handed him the mug, he held it with both hands like it was the only warm thing in the world.
āThank you,ā he murmured.
āAlways,ā you replied.
He took a small sip, then looked around your roomāwith that shy, awkward curiosity he tried to hide.
āThis is the first time Iāve⦠you know⦠stayed over. At a girlfriendās place.ā His ears turned pink. āKinda donāt know what Iām supposed to do.ā
āYouāre supposed to relax.ā You nudged his knee. āAnd sleep. Preferably in my bed, not on the couch.ā
His head snapped up. āYour bed?ā
You smiled. āUnless you donāt want to.ā
āNāno! I want to.ā
Then he froze. āI meanānot in a weird way. Just⦠you know⦠warmth. And safety. Andāā
You placed a hand on his cheek. āBaku. Itās okay.ā
He shut up instantly.
āāāāāāāāāāāāāāā
Later, under the blankets, he lay stiff for a momentāclearly overthinking everything. You scooted closer and rested your head on his chest.
His breath hitched.
Then, slowly, his arm curled around you, pulling you in like heād been wanting to all night but was too afraid to ask.
āYou comfortable?ā you whispered.
He nodded against your hair. āYeah. This feels⦠good. Really good.ā
You laced your fingers with his. He squeezed back instantly.
āThank you,ā he said softly. āFor letting me come here instead of⦠doing something stupid.ā
āYou didnāt do anything stupid,ā you said. āYou came to me. Thatās brave.ā
He breathed in sharply, like your words hit deeper than he expected.
āYou make things feel less⦠heavy,ā he whispered.
You pressed a small kiss to his chest. āYouāre safe with me.ā
His hand tightened around yours.
āAnd I wanna stay here,ā he murmured, voice finally calm. āIn your bed. With you.ā
You snuggled closer.
āGood. Because youāre not going anywhere tonight.ā
His chest rose and fell slowly as he relaxed for the first time all nightāfinally letting himself sleep, warm and safe in your arms.
āā“ļøĖļ½”ā š ą¼ā BIRTHDAY BOY - go hyuntak x reader
- character: go hyuntak (gotak)
- summary: in which you plan a surprise party for your friend, not knowing that youāll open something that you never knew existed between you two before.
- warnings: the fluffiest fluff ever, usage of y/n
- note: i KNOW that itās not gotakās birthday, i just love lee minjae sm and i just had to make this one (since he had his birthday a short time ago!!). no one requests for my baby so iām making one myself (Ė¶Ė įµ Ė˶) then iāll get to requests again, promise :)
! REQUESTS ARE OPEN, DONāT HESITATE TO HIT ME UP !
gotak had his birthday today and you both knew that he never really had a birthday party - not like he needed any anyways, like he always liked to say.
but you just had to surprise him. you both, even juntae and sieun thought that it would be hilarious seeing his reaction to having balloons all over his bedroom.
thatās how you ended up at gotakās place with the rest of your friend group, setting up the place for the great surprise.
balloons? everywhere. gifts? prepared. cake? well⦠yes, but you didnāt know if it was even edible with the way how it looked.
you were feeling giddy inside, ready to see the priceless reaction on gotakās face.
and so were the others.
āhey, give me the best impression of gotak coming here and seeing all of this,ā baku suggested, then speaking again. āiāll startā¦ā
āyahh! are you serious? i told you i donāt like surprises!ā baku whined, trying to imitate gotakās voice as best as possible. you all laughed, even sieun cracked a small smile.
āi think he will be glad though,ā juntae added, smiling softly. āhe never had a birthday party before, right?ā
āhe had to have one when he was a child,ā sieun replied to juntaeās question like it was an obvious thing.
āright? he had to have at least one birthday party before!ā you agreed with sieun, making the group discuss gotakās childhood.
āi agree with juntae. heās just a grumpy man that canāt admit some things make him happy,ā baku spoke up, checking the time. āwhen did he say heāll be going home again?ā
ā4PM,ā you replied almost immediately, making all of them look at you in suspicion. you saw the way baku looked away but smirked to himself.
before you could even wonder why was he doing that, you heard the main door open downstairs.
everyone got quiet.
āeveryone hide!ā you whisper-yelled as you all had hidden somewhere from gotakās view.
it took him a while to finally reach his bedroom. he just wanted to take off his bag and finally lay down on his bed.
but when he opened, he didnāt expect you all popping up from somewhere, yelling āsurprise!ā with big smiles on your faces.
his eyes roamed around the decorations in his bedroom, groaning softly. āyou have to be kidding meā¦ā
āARE YOU SERIOUS? THATāS ALL YOUāRE GOING TO SAY?ā baku yelled in excitement, already moving towards him.
āstop yelling, you idiot,ā gotak replied, his eyes suddenly getting on you.
you were laughing at baku being absolutely careless like he always was. then he noticed that you had some soft make-up on your face, your hair was nicely done and you just looked⦠nicer than usual.
that made him soften up a bit, seeing how much effort you had put into this surprise.
āyouāre all so stupid,ā he said, but his smile betrayed him.
āsee? i told you he would love this!ā you replied, your smile only widening.
ādonāt get ahead of yourself,ā he warned. āi didnāt say i love it.ā
ābut you do,ā you teased back. āyou just canāt admit it.ā
the party was really nice. you all laughed, played games, talked a lot. even gotak liked his gifts and sieun wasnāt that quiet anymore.
when the clock striked 10PM, you decided to finally go home.
you all were putting on your shoes, except gotak, who was leaning against the doorframe watching you.
the boys said their goodbyes, heading outside. you were about to follow them, but gotakās unusually soft voice stopped you.
āhey,ā he started, waiting for you to turn around. āwhoās idea was all of this?ā
you smiled. āwhy do you wanna know?ā
āto know whoās ass iām kicking,ā he joked, his smile widening itself.
āwell⦠mostly mine. but baku had his part too.ā you confessed.
āiām guessing he had the cake part?ā he asked, mentioning the crusty looking cake he received.
that made you laugh softly, āyeah, that was him.ā
he only smiled, looking away from you for a moment.
ā⦠thanks,ā he spoke up like he wasnāt sure if heās able to finish the sentence without embarrassing himself. ā⦠for preparing all of this. it made me really happy,ā he revealed. like it wasnāt obvious.
āyou donāt have to thank meāā
ābut i do,ā he interrupted you, stepping closer. āno one has never done this for me before,ā he stopped in front of you, unusually close. āand iām thankful that you did.ā
it all made your heart do a stupid flip inside of your chest, feeling the blush creeping up your cheeks. you couldnāt even look into his eyes properly.
and he had noticed.
thatās why he just pulled you close to him, giving you a hug. another thing that wasnāt so usual for him to do.
what was up with him today?
you stood there, in his hallway, hugging each other like you were about to disappear.
both of your hearts were racing. and it both made you realise one thing - this isnāt casual at all.
he pulled away slowly just to look into your eyes, adding one last thing before letting you go.
ādonāt think i didnāt notice that you dolled up for today,ā he patted your shoulders. āyou look⦠nice.ā
before you could think of what to say, you heard someone yell outside. āy/n-ssi! hurry up, weāre super bored!ā
you heard gotak chuckle to himself, before letting go of you for real this time. ātext me when you get home.ā
you nodded and left, the warmth in your chest never leaving.
Hiii Idk if you seen the trend like ātelling my bf that I found his best friend on tinder/hinge prankā I want to ask can you do that with the Whc boys ??thank you!
telling the whc boys you found their best friend on a dating app !
summary: how each boy reacts when you prank them by telling them you randomly came across their best friend on a dating app. (smau)
( i wasn't sure if you wanted this in text messages or written but i tried writing out mini scenarios for each boy and my mind went blank :/ hope this is okay ! )
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Sypnosis: You survive school by staying unseenāuntil Park Humin notices you. Loud, warm, and terrifyingly protective, he breaks into your quiet world and refuses to leave.
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
Wc: 2.6k
Request: here
masterlists
The classroom at Eunjang High was never truly quiet. Even during the breaks, or perhaps especially during the breaks, it hummed with a specific kind of electric tension. It was the sound of posturing, of loud laughter masking unease, of chairs scraping against linoleum like nails on a chalkboard.
For you, however, the noise was just white static. You had perfected the art of becoming part of the furniture. Your desk, situated in the back corner by the window, was your fortress. If you didn't move too much, didn't make eye contact, and kept your shoulders hunched, the world generally forgot you existed. You weren't bullied; you weren't praised; you were simply a ghost haunting Class 1-5.
Loneliness was a texture you wore like a second skinācool, detached, and safe.
The lunch break was half over. While most students had migrated to the cafeteria or gathered in boisterous clusters around the popular kids, you remained in your seat. The early afternoon sun filtered through the dusty windowpane, warming the side of your face. You had a sketchbook open, a graphite pencil hovering over a half-finished drawing of the school courtyard, and a small, dry melon bread sitting on the corner of your desk.
You took a breath, enjoying the relative peace.
"Haaaaah... so stiff."
The peace shattered instantly.
The groan came from the desk directly in front of yours. You froze. That desk belonged to Park Humināor "Baku," as everyone called him. The unspoken king of the class. The guy who looked like a golden retriever but fought like a demon. He had been asleep since second period, his head buried in his arms, his hoodie pulled up.
Now, he was stretching. His arms shot up toward the ceiling, his spine cracking with a series of audible pops. He shook his head like a wet dog, his shaggy, brown hair falling messily over his eyes. He turned in his chair, spinning it around completely so he was straddling it backwards, facing you.
Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Don't make eye contact. Don't make eye contact.
"Hey," he said.
You flinched, your pencil skidding across the paper, ruining the shading on a tree trunk. You slowly looked up.
Baku was resting his chin on his folded arms atop the back of his chair. He didn't look terrifying. He looked... sleepy. His eyes were half-lidded, dark and curious, and there was a red imprint on his cheek from where heād been sleeping on his sleeve.
"You're always here," he observed, his voice raspy from sleep. He tilted his head, studying you as if you were a new species of bug heād found in the grass. "Don't you eat?"
"I..." Your voice cracked. You cleared your throat, heat rushing to your cheeks. "I am eating."
You pointed a shaking finger at the melon bread.
Bakuās eyes shifted to the bread, then back to your face. A slow, lazy grin spread across his features. It was blinding. It was the kind of smile that made people lower their guard before he punched them, but right now, it just looked like sunshine.
"Thatās dry," he stated flatly. He reached into the pocket of his blazer and pulled out a small carton of strawberry milk. He slammed it onto your desk with a decisive thud, right next to your sketchbook. "Here. Trade."
You stared at the pink carton. "What?"
"Trade," he repeated, reaching out and snatching your melon bread before you could protest. He tore the package open with his teeth, looking incredibly pleased with himself. "I need carbs. You need calcium. Look at you, youāre tiny. The wind might blow you away if someone opens a window."
"I'm not that tiny," you muttered, surprised by your own boldness.
Baku laughed. It was a bright, infectious sound that cut through the low murmur of the classroom. "You totally are. Youāre like... a hamster. Hiding in the corner with your seeds." He took a massive bite of your bread, chewing happily. "Mmm. Not bad."
You sat there, stunned. Park Humin was eating your lunch. Park Humin was talking to you. Park Humin was comparing you to a rodent.
"Drink," he commanded, nodding at the milk.
Mechanically, you poked the straw through the foil and took a sip. The artificial sweetness of strawberry flooded your mouth. It was cold and sugary, a stark contrast to the dryness of your throat.
"Good, right?" He grinned, crumbs on the corner of his mouth. "Strawberry milk solves ninety percent of life's problems. The other ten percent are solved by basketball."
"Thatās... a weird way to see life," you whispered.
"It's efficient," he countered, leaning closer. His personal space boundaries were nonexistent. He was so close you could smell the faint scent of laundry detergent and whatever sweet snack heād eaten before his nap. "So, Hamster. What are you drawing?"
He looked down at your sketchbook before you could cover it. You braced yourself for mockery. Most people at Eunjang didn't care about art unless it was graffiti.
Bakuās chewing slowed. He swallowed, his expression shifting from playful to attentive. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the edge of the paper to rotate the book toward him.
"Whoa," he breathed out. "Thatās the courtyard? The shading is crazy." He looked up at you, his eyes wide and genuine. "You did this just now?"
"Itās just a sketch," you mumbled, looking at your hands. "Itās messy."
"It's cool," he insisted, tapping the paper. "You made that ugly tree look actually dignified. Thatās a talent. Usually, it looks like a dead stick."
He shifted his weight, getting more comfortable on his backward chair. He didn't seem to have any intention of turning back around or leaving to find his friends. He was just... staying.
"Why are you sitting here?" you asked. The question slipped out before you could stop it.
Baku blinked. "Here? In my chair?"
"No. I mean... talking to me. Dealing with me." You gestured vaguely at your isolated corner. "Iām boring."
Baku rested his cheek on his palm, the smile returning, but softer this time. He looked at you, really looked at you, his gaze sweeping over your hair, your nervous hands, your eyes that were trying so hard to hide.
"You're not boring," he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious register. "Boring is everyone else trying to act tough. Boring is the guys who yell just to hear their own voices." He gestured with the half-eaten bread toward the loud group of boys near the chalkboard. "You? Youāre quiet. Quiet is interesting. It makes me wonder what youāre thinking about."
He took another bite, humming thoughtfully. "Plus, you have good reactions. You turn pink when I talk to you. It's cute."
You felt your face catch fire. You grabbed the strawberry milk and drank aggressively to hide your expression.
"See?" He poked your forehead gently with one finger. "Pink."
"Stop it," you squeaked, batting his hand away.
He caught your hand.
Time seemed to freeze. His grip wasn't tight; it was warm and firm. His hand was callousedāthe knuckles slightly rough, evidence of the fights heād been inābut his hold was incredibly gentle. He didn't let go immediately. He just held your hand in the air between you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"Your hands are cold," he noted, frowning slightly. "Are you cold?"
"I... no. I'm fine. I just... have cold hands."
"Hmph." He didn't let go. Instead, he pulled your hand toward him and placed against his own.
Your brain short-circuited.
His hand was warm, soft despite the faint scars covering it.
"Better?" he asked, opening one eye to look at you.
"Baku," you whispered, terrified someone would see. "What are you doing?"
"Sharing body heat. Survival tactics. Don't they teach you anything in science class?" He grinned, finally releasing your hand, but he didn't pull away. He stayed in your bubble.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the front of the room. Two guys were shoving each other, and one of them stumbled backward, knocking into a row of desks. The domino effect sent a chair skidding toward your aisle.
You flinched, instinctively curling inward, expecting the noise and chaos to come your way. It was a reflex born of habitāmake yourself small, let the storm pass.
But the storm didn't reach you.
Baku moved with a speed that blurred in your vision. One moment he was leaning on his chair smiling at you; the next, his leg had shot out, stopping the skidding chair inches from your desk with the sole of his sneaker.
The room went quiet. The two guys fighting looked over, saw whose space they had invaded, and paled.
"Hey," Baku said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that froze the air in the room. He didn't even look at them; he was looking at you, checking to see if you were okay. When he saw you were just startled, not hurt, he turned his head slowly toward the disruptors.
The sunshine was gone. His eyes were cold, sharp, and dangerous.
"Keep it down," he said, a simple command. "We're trying to have a conversation here."
"S-sorry, Baku! Sorry!" The guys scrambled to pick up the chair and retreated to the other side of the room as fast as their legs could carry them.
The tension lingered for a second longer, then Baku turned back to you. The darkness vanished from his eyes instantly, replaced by that golden-retriever brightness.
"So noisy," he complained, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, where were we? Right. You being cold."
You stared at him, your heart racing for a different reason now. You had seen him fight beforeāeveryone hadābut having him use that presence to protect your little corner of peace was... overwhelming.
"You didn't have to do that," you said quietly. "They weren't going to hit me."
"They were annoying you," Baku stated simply. "And you looked scared."
"I wasn't scared."
"Hamster," he drawled, "you flinched like a startled cat. Itās okay." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on your desk, invading your space again. "I'm here now. No one's gonna bug you."
The words hung in the air. *I'm here now.* Not just for lunch. Not just for a moment. It sounded like a declaration.
He reached out and picked up your pencil, twirling it deftly between his fingers. "So, do you draw people?"
"Sometimes," you answered, watching the pencil spin.
"Draw me," he said. It wasn't a demand; it was an eager request. He struck a pose, framing his face with his hands, flashing a peace sign. "Draw me like one of your French girls. Or just... cool. Make me look cool. Bigger muscles, maybe."
You couldn't help it. A small laugh bubbled up from your chest. It felt foreign, rusty, but good.
Bakuās smile softened into something genuine and tender at the sound. "There it is," he murmured.
"What?"
"You laughed. I was wondering what that sounded like." He lowered his hands, resting his chin on your desk again, looking up at you through his lashes. "You should do it more often. It suits you better than the silence."
You felt a strange pressure in your chest, a swelling sensation that made it hard to breathe, but in a good way. The loneliness that usually wrapped around you was unravelling, thread by thread, pulled apart by this strange, energetic, terrifyingly sweet boy.
"Baku," you started, unsure of what you wanted to say. Thank you? Why me? Please don't leave?
"Call me Humin," he interrupted softly.
Your eyes widened. "What?"
"Everyone calls me Baku. Itās a nickname. But..." He looked down at the graphite smudge on your desk, tracing it with his finger. "I think I'd like it if you called me Humin."
He looked up, and the intensity in his eyes pinned you to your seat. It wasn't the aggressive intensity of a fighter; it was the focused, unwavering attention of someone who had found something precious.
"Okay," you breathed. "Humin."
He grinned, and it was the brightest thing in the room. "Nice. Sounds better when you say it."
He sat up straight, stretching his arms again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a second carton of strawberry milk.
"Wait," you said, confused. "I thought you only had one."
"I always have reserves," he winked. "Strategic planning." He poked the straw in and took a sip, looking satisfied.
"Are you... going to stay here?" you asked, gesturing to the backward chair. "The bell is going to ring in a few minutes. Your friends usually come get you."
"Let them come," he shrugged. "I like this spot. The lighting is good. Itās quiet. And the company is top-tier."
He looked at you, and for the first time, you realized he wasn't just being nice. He wasn't just bored. He was... flirting. In his own, weird, straightforward way.
"You have a crumb on your face," you said, deflecting the sudden wave of shyness.
"Where?" He pawed at his face uselessly.
"Here." Without thinking, you reached out and brushed the bread crumb from the corner of his lip.
Your fingers lingered for a fraction of a second too long. His skin was warm. He went still, his eyes widening slightly, his pupils dilating until the dark brown swallowed the iris. He didn't pull away; he leaned into your touch, just a millimeter, barely perceptible.
You snatched your hand back, your heart pounding like a drum. "Sorry."
"Don't be," he said, his voice husky. He licked his lip where your finger had been. "I think I'm gonna hang out here every day, Y/N."
It was the first time he had used your name.
"Every day?" you repeated.
"Yeah." He leaned his head on his hand, looking at you with a gaze that felt like a warm embrace. "Iāve decided. Youāre my favorite spot in this whole school. So youāre stuck with me."
"I... I don't mind," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
"Good." He reached over and tapped the sketchbook page. "Now, seriously. Draw me. I want a portrait. I'll hang it on my fridge."
"On your fridge?"
"Yeah. Right next to the grocery list. Prime real estate."
You picked up your pencil, a small smile playing on your lips. You looked at himāthe messy hair, the bright eyes, the confident slouch. He was a whirlwind that had just decided to settle in your calm.
As you touched the pencil to the paper, starting to outline the curve of his jaw, the school bell rang, shrill and loud, signalling the end of lunch.
Usually, this was the time you felt a knot of anxiety, preparing for the noise of the returning class. But as the students started flooding back in, shouting and dragging chairs, Humin didn't move. He stayed right there, straddling his chair, watching you draw, creating a barrier between you and the rest of the world.
He winked at you. "Ignore them. Just look at me."
And for the first time in a long time, in the middle of the chaotic classroom, you didn't feel lonely at all. You just felt seen.