#wonjun

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𐙚 Romin soft thoughts 𐙚

Request

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: slight age gap, older fem reader

“Look!” Romin’s voice echoed under the neon lights, pointing to a DDR machine like it was the holy grail. “This is where legends are made.”

“I’m here for skee-ball,” you said, brushing past him.

He followed you anyway. “You’re here to lose, actually.”

“I’m older than you,” you shot back. “That means I have years of experience. I’ve seen things.”

“Yeah, like coin-operated dinosaurs?” he teased, flashing a grin. “Relax, you’re only four years ahead of me. Not forty.”

You gave him a dry look. “Still enough time to perfect my skee-ball game.”

“It’s cute you think that,” he said, completely unserious.

And just like that, your “chill arcade date” turned into an all-out competition. He insisted on going first, of course, and you stood with your arms crossed as he effortlessly cleared a round of whack-a-mole like he was born to smack plastic rodents.

“See that?” he beamed, brushing imaginary dust off his hands. “Flawless technique.”

“It’s literally hitting things with a foam mallet,” you deadpanned.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

Next came basketball. You missed your first shot. He didn’t stop talking about it the entire time. He even made up a song about it. Loudly. Off-key.

And the worst part?

You were having fun.

Somewhere between the air hockey rematch (which you finally won), and him sneaking a hand around your waist while pretending to “help” with the claw machine, your cheeks started to ache from smiling. You could feel yourself loosening up, pulled into the whirlpool of Romin’s energy—his chaos, his teasing, his warmth.

“Okay,” you said after losing at your fourth game in a row. “What’s your deal? Are you secretly a competitive gamer?”

He shrugged, looking way too smug. “Maybe I just work well under pressure. Maybe I wanted to impress my noona.”

You squinted at him. “You never call me that.”

“I don’t have to,” he said, inching closer. “You already act like one.”

You gasped. “You did not just say that.”

He laughed and leaned into you, all wide grin and zero shame. “You organize your coins by value. I rest my case.”

You scoffed, but your smile gave you away. “You’re so annoying.”

“But you love me,” he said simply. “And I’m your problem now.”

He kissed your cheek before you could fire back, then another just barely brushing the corner of your mouth. And then?

“Now let’s go play skee-ball. So I can crush you again.”

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