What A Handsome Flirt

prom for airheads

the struggle of asking your best friend out to prom is very, very real. (or: nishimura riki is the worst wingman around, yang jungwon is at his wit's end, and you have no clue what's going on.)

PAIRING. yang jungwon x fem!reader GENRES. romance, comedy, friends to lovers au, high school au WORDS. 5.0k WARNINGS. profanity, kissing, references to pride and prejudice by jane austen and little women by louisa may alcott

ONE 

It is a widely accepted and well-known fact that you and Yang Jungwon are practically attached at the hip.

It’s also a widely accepted and well-known fact that you and Yang Jungwon are head over heels for each other.

Were both of you too dumb to notice? Absolutely. Did both of you think your crush on the other is unrequited? Hell, yeah. Did it drive the rest of your friends batshit crazy? Of course. Have they tried to set you both up before? Hundreds of times. Were you both too dense to notice their attempts? Well, if you weren’t a pair of lovesick idiots, then you would have gotten together in elementary school.

It doesn’t help that Yang Jungwon has been pestering Nishimura Riki to help him out for weeks now.

Sure, Riki thinks to himself, now that it’s prom season, this loser is running around trying to get me to help him get a goddamn girlfriend.

“Did you just call me a loser?” Jungwon furrows his eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shit, did I say that out loud?” Riki glares at the boy opposite him, no hint of remorse in his face. “Maybe if you weren’t such a chicken, I wouldn’t refer to you as The Stupidest Airhead Around in my head. I even changed your contact number to that.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Jungwon says. “And mean.”

Riki sniffs disdainfully. “Do you want my help with asking Y/N out or not?”

“Yes. Sorry, I’ll shut up now.” Looking mildly chastised, Jungwon glares at the soggy peas on his lunch tray as though they would disintegrate due to his burning gaze.

Riki heaves out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. Honestly, he has no clue how to help his friend out. He doesn’t know what you like, what you don’t like, whether you prefer grand, romantic gestures, or whether you want something nice and quiet instead. Of course, the one person who actually knows about your preferences is currently sitting in front of him—but he’s just as clueless as Riki is. Still, asking him is worth a shot.

“Okay,” he begins slowly. Jungwon immediately perks up, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Do you know what kind of romance she likes?”

Jungwon looks stumped, with wide eyes and a mouth comically open. If Riki wasn’t kind of irritated already, he would’ve laughed at him. “Uh—”

“Jungwon, right now I’m seriously questioning how on earth you managed to land the position of class president when you’re this dumb.” Riki takes a sip of his orange juice, chewing on the end of his straw.

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be Mister Romantic Guy, or whatever?”

Riki pauses. That’s true, he supposes. He is the school’s resident romance expert—a title he gained by predicting most of their classmates’ current significant others. It was all a complete fluke, of course. There’s no way Riki is actually some kind of professional at giving love advice, but he can definitely see where the nickname came from. (He isn’t about to tell anyone that the only experience he has in the love department comes from watching To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before at least ten times.)

But that doesn’t mean he can read minds—he still doesn’t know what exactly you have in mind when it comes to a promposal.

“Ask her first,” he decides. “Tell me what she likes and then I’ll get back to you.”

Then he pushes his chair back, places his empty orange juice carton on his lunch tray and picks it up before turning around and dumping it in the crate meant for soiled trays.

Riki’s got a lot on his hands, because Yang Jungwon is dense as hell and for all he knows, you might not be much better.

TWO 

Jungwon should not be taking this long to send you a measly text.

In his defence, he has no idea what he’s supposed to text you. Hey, Y/N, I was just wondering what kind of romance you like so that I can ask you out for prom in the most perfect way possible? That sounds dumb even in his head.

He groans, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly. Who knew asking someone out would take so much time and effort? He falls backwards onto his bed, his back hitting the mattress with a thump. Jungwon groans again, holding his phone in front of his face and squinting at the screen. His chat with you is open and the cursor in the empty text box blinks at him.

Oh, fuck it, he thinks. What’s the worst that could happen? You’re still friends; this is nothing more than a message he’s sending you. Besides, you and him have texted much weirder things to each other—like that time you sent him a picture of one of your favourite Thai BL actors posing shirtless and Jungwon replied by saying that he looked like he was about to sneeze. You didn’t talk to him for two weeks after that.

His fingers hover over the keyboard, and before he can overthink more than he already has, he types out a quick, casual message.

[Jungwon]: hey, do you have a sex?

Jungwon bites his lip, cheeks flushing red. Is he so nervous that he can’t even type out a simple three-letter abbreviation of a word correctly? He glares at his phone. Why are the letters x and c so close to each other? Someone should fix that. Thankfully, he hasn’t sent the message yet.

Jungwon shifts, trying to quickly delete the last letter and replace it with the right one. But with one sudden jerk, he drops his phone.

It falls straight onto his face, landing squarely on his nose. Jungwon curses under his breath, rubbing the stinging part and chucking his phone aside. A sudden ping from his phone makes him sit up straight immediately. Horror washes over him, along with an acute sense of mortification.

There’s no way he accidentally sent that message with the typo, right?

Wrong.

Gingerly, he picks up his phone.

[Y/N]: are u ok [Y/N]: do u have a fever or smtg

Jungwon’s cheeks heat up further. God, he’s so clumsy. You’re never going to let him live this down. He can picture you in his head, sitting on the swivel chair by your desk and actually laughing out loud at his typing mistake.

[Jungwon]: ?? unprovoked. all i did was make a typo.

[Y/N]: LMFAO. i want u 2 know that i have screenshotted this and it is now ready for me to use as blackmail material

He groans, running a hand through his hair. 

[Jungwon]: yeah yeah whatever [Jungwon]: are you free right now?

[Y/N]: sure. what’s up?

Jungwon takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly through his nose. How on earth is he supposed to ask you how you want to be asked out to prom? He needs to be sneaky about this—he can’t make it blatantly obvious that he would like you to be his prom date.

[Jungwon]: can i call you?

[Y/N]: yea ok

You pick up almost immediately after he presses the call button next to your contact name. 

“Hey.” Your voice sounds breathy on the phone, like you just jogged up your staircase before answering him. “So. What’s going on?”

“Do you want to watch Pride and Prejudice with me?” Jungwon asks as nonchalantly as he can. 

“Um. Sure, I guess. Why?”

“English Literature. We need to do that book report, remember? I want to write about Pride and Prejudice. I’m just too lazy to read the whole book, so, you know—might as well watch the movie instead.” It’s a big, fat lie—he’s already finished his book report—but Jungwon thinks it’s worth it.

“Cheater,” you say. “I wonder what Mr. Yoon will think, knowing the star of the grade is a sneaky little cheapskate.”

Jungwon rolls his eyes. “It’s not that deep. It’s just a book report.”

“Sure, sure. Is there any specific topic you want to write about?”

Fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt, he lies again. “Kind of. I want to write about romance—like, any classic novel which is based on romance.”

You hum. “That’s easy, then. Literally all classic novels are about romance. Except maybe Charles Dickens’ stuff.”

“Yeah,” Jungwon says, “which is why Pride and Prejudice is a really good choice. You can never go wrong with Jane Austen.”

“Yes, but won’t everyone think the same and go with Jane Austen too?” you say contemplatively. “You need something that would stand out.”

He sucks on a tooth, a triumphant grin forming on his lips. “Any ideas?”

“How about Little Women by Louisa May Alcott?” you suggest. “I know it’s not mainly about romance, but I think Jo and Laurie’s falling out and Amy and Laurie making up is really sweet. That bit mainly happens in Good Wives, but I think that’s just a technicality.” After a pause, you add, “I mean, not that bit about Jo and Laurie falling out; that sucks.”

Jungwon chuckles. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”

“I think it’s pretty cool that Laurie finally realises Amy’s the one for him, after all those years of her pining over him.”

Jungwon stills, thinking over your words. It almost feels as though you described his feelings towards you in one sentence. He’s liked you since middle school, and with high school almost coming to an end now that both of you are in your senior year, he figures it’s a pretty long time. 

“Okay,” he says softly. “I’ll do Little Women.”

“Okay.” Your voice is soft too.

THREE

“Quiet stuff,” Jungwon tells Riki decidedly, the next day. “She likes quiet, romantic gestures. Nothing big or fancy.”

“Wow,” Riki says, highlighting a word in his notebook with neon yellow. It hurts Jungwon’s eyes, but Riki claims it helps him remember. “How did you find out?”

“I just know.”

The other boy pauses for a moment, staring at Jungwon. Then he nods, seemingly impressed. “You sure seem to know a lot about Y/N.”

“She’s my best friend,” Jungwon says.

“Sure. Which is why you need my help to ask her out. Since, y’know, she’s your best friend and all.”

He rolls his eyes at Riki’s sarcasm, before leaning forward on his elbows. The library is pretty empty at this time, but Jungwon doesn’t want to break the silence by talking unnecessarily loudly. “So what should I do?”

His friend huffs and wrinkles his nose. “Flowers,” he says after a moment. 

“Really? Isn’t that… a bit cliché?”

“Like you would know, casanova,” Riki snorts. “Would you rather grab a bunch of bananas and write ‘I’m bananas for you, go to prom with me?’ on them with a Sharpie and give it to Y/N?”

Jungwon cringes. “Okay, okay. I get what you mean.” He sighs, staring down at the mahogany table and tracing stars on the worn-out wood. “But I want to be more original, you know what I mean? Flowers are nice but too overused.”

“Okay.” Riki taps his finger on the table. “I’m out of ideas. What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” Jungwon begins slowly, attempting his best oh-thou-art-my-saviour expression and aiming it at Riki, “I was hoping you could distract her tomorrow, while you, me, Y/N, and Sunoo try to get the gymnasium ready for the decoration team. Just, sort of keep her occupied while I try to figure something out.”

Riki narrows his eyes. “Are you planning to seduce her while I’m talking to her? ‘Cause that’s a really shitty plan, even for you, Yang. And more importantly, what do I get in return?”

“No,” Jungwon hisses, cheeks burning. “I’m not going to seduce her, don’t be dumb. And I’ll give you free passes to the basketball regionals next month. I know you’ve been wanting to diss the opposing team ever since they beat you and our soccer team last year.”

“Fine. But I want two passes. Jake’s been really antsy about it, too.”

“Done.” Jungwon holds his hand out, and Riki shakes it with his. “Thank you, Riki.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves him away, uncapping his obnoxiously bright yellow highlighter again. “Go get your girl.”

Jungwon smiles. He certainly plans to.

FOUR

There’s a God-awful stench in the gymnasium.

You, Jungwon, Riki, and another friend of yours, Kim Sunoo, stand at the entrance, bags hanging loosely off your shoulders and identical expressions of disgust on your faces.

The gymnasium is more or less a huge rectangle on the first floor of your school building. Rough wooden floors and cream-coloured cement walls make the place appear like the inside of a cardboard box. It isn’t used much—Coach Kim prefers to take P.E classes in the large turf outside. Only occasionally, for events such as prom or Graduation Day, the school administration decides to host its guests in the gym, which is why Jungwon needs to clear it out by next week.

“Okay, it smells like someone just farted,” you say. 

“Wasn’t me,” Jungwon comments off-handedly. He is the first one to brave the gymnasium, dropping his bag next to the door and striding inwards while bringing a hand up to pinch his nose.

“They say that the one who smelt it, dealt it,” Riki says, glancing suspiciously at you.

“They also say that the one who denied it, supplied it,” you retort. Riki’s suspicious gaze immediately averts to Jungwon, who’s busy peering into a box placed at a corner of the room.

Sunoo drops his bag on the floor and takes a cautious step inside. “I think I know where it’s coming from. Coach Kim sometimes leaves his used shirts in that box over there.” He points at the box Jungwon is occupied with. 

Jungwon picks up a dirty, orange gym shirt from inside the box, wrinkling his nose and holding it as far away from his body as his fully-stretched arms would allow. You place your bag next to his and walk to him. Behind you, Riki follows you.

“How long has that even been here?” Riki asks.

Sunoo shrugs, standing by the corner opposite Jungwon. He’s sticking so close to the wall, it looks as though someone applied permanent glue all over his back and pressed him against the cement surface. “Days, weeks, maybe even years. Who knows? No wonder no one uses the gym.”

You step closer to Jungwon, and immediately regret it. The stench wafts around you, making you clap your hand to your nose and mouth. “Gross. I’m not touching that.”

“Lucky for you, you’re not the one holding it.” Jungwon flashes a sour look at you, and you give him an apologetic smile. “Sunoo,” he calls out. “Can you take this to the incinerator? Riki, Y/N and I will get started on moving all the yoga mats.”

Sunoo whines, “Why me?” But he peels himself off the wall anyway and takes the shirt from Jungwon, tilting his head away from it.

“Thanks.” Jungwon smiles gratefully at him.

You look at all the yoga mats strewn around the wooden floor. Dust and old balls of hair stick to each one of the faded rubber mats. You place your hands on your waist; you have a lot of work cut out for you.

“Okay,” Jungwon says, “Let’s get started. Riki, you and Y/N start moving the mats to the corner. I’ll get the broom so we can clean things up a bit.”

You smile at him. Jungwon’s leadership skills are no joke—there’s a reason he was elected class president, after all. He has a way of getting things done without seeming bossy or rude. He values everyone’s opinion and doesn’t make anyone feel bad about themselves.  

He is kind, compassionate and caring, and makes people comfortable around him. Being his best friend for over ten years has only made you appreciate him more and more with each passing day. And eventually, that appreciation turned into a crush, which you’ve been harbouring for a long, long time. You only hope that someday, he sees you the way you see him. Just like how Laurie finally looked at Amy.

Jungwon slips away, heading downstairs to the janitor’s closet, just as Sunoo appears again, hands devoid of Coach Kim’s smelly shirt. You and Riki exchange smiles, and Sunoo joins you two, brushing his hands on his pants.

FIVE 

When Jungwon enters the gymnasium again, broom and dustpan in hand, the first thing he sees is you laughing at something Nishimura Riki said. 

He feels something flare up in his chest—a tiny prick of something sharp that makes him grip the broom tighter. This is stupid, he tells himself. You asked Riki to play wingman for you.

He sees Sunoo standing a bit away, hands on his hips and lips pursed as he observes the pile of mats the three of you had cleared. Jungwon walks over to him.

Sunoo brightens as soon as he sees him. “Hey, Jungwon. What do we do with these?”

“Uh, I think we can roll them up and take them to the storage room sometime later. Right now—” he hefts the broom and the dustpan— “we need to clean this whole place up.”

“Got it.” Sunoo nods. “Hey, why don’t Riki and I take the mats down while you and Y/N clean up? Things will get done faster that way.”

“Sure. I’ll call Riki over and tell him.” Jungwon smiles gratefully at his friend, before walking over to you and Riki. 

You grin at him as soon as you see him approaching, and Jungwon’s heart lifts like a hot-air balloon. “Hello, Yang,” you greet him. “Finally back with the broom, I see.”

“Very funny,” he deadpans, letting the broom drop down on the floor by his feet. He jerks his thumb backwards. “Riki, Sunoo needs your help.”

Riki mock-salutes, flashing you a smile before heading over to Sunoo. You pick up the broom. “I take it I need to help you clean, right?”

Jungwon nods. “Do you want the broom or the dustpan?”

“I’ll start off with the broom,” you offer. “We can take turns.” You move to a corner of the gym, wasting no time in sweeping the place to the best of your abilities. 

Jungwon folds his arms and waits for you to collect a sizable amount of dust before leaning down and holding the dustpan for you to sweep everything in. It’s only then that he notices the tight grip you have on the handle, and the slight hunch of your shoulders. He frowns worriedly.

“Y/N?” he says. “Is everything okay?”

You glance at him with mild surprise, moving over to another area and starting to sweep. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t everything be fine?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Other than the fact that you look like you’re about to break the broom with nothing but brute force?”

You purse your lips and straighten up, loosening your hold on the broom’s handle. Jungwon offers a hand, ready to take the broom from you and give you a break. 

When you make no move to hand it to him, his eyes crease with concern. “Hey, seriously—what’s wrong?”

You hesitate before admitting, “I think Riki is going to ask me out to prom.”

A sudden chill washes over Jungwon, and he can feel it deep inside his chest. He stills, blood pounding in his ears and his heart racing like he just took part in a track and field race. 

“What—” he swallows— “what makes you think that?”

“It’s just—I’m probably overthinking it, I don’t know—but he seemed really into me, you know?” Your gaze drops to your shoes. “He was coming onto me pretty strong when you left. He used, like, three pickup lines on me, I think. They were all really bad, too.”

That little piece of shit, Jungwon curses in his head. He should’ve known better than to trust that sly little imbecile to butter you up for his promposal. 

(Admittedly, Jungwon still doesn’t have a concrete plan, but he was thinking of taking you to your favourite ice cream parlour after school and popping the question over a shared chocolate chip sundae—assuming he worked up enough nerve by then, that is.)

Instead, he says, “W-wow. I can’t believe it.” Can’t believe he’s hitting on you when he knows I have a crush on you, he wants to add.

You chuckle nervously, pushing a flyaway strand of hair away from your eyes. “Me neither, honestly. I feel bad now, because I have to turn him down.”

“Why’s that?” he asks, pushing down the jealousy that threatens to creep into his throat.

“There’s someone else I would like to go to prom with, if I had the chance,” you explain shyly.

“Oh,” is all Jungwon can say. A million thoughts start whirring inside his head. What if you didn’t want to go with him? What if someone—the person you wanted to go with—asked you first and you said yes? What if—

Riki and Sunoo saunter back in, having hauled all the yoga mats to the storage room. Jungwon narrows his eyes.

“Give me a sec,” he tells you.

SIX 

It wasn’t that hard to corner Nishimura Riki after all. All Jungwon had to do was ask Sunoo and you to check if there were any spare buckets and mops in the janitor’s closet and if there were, to fill the buckets up with water so you could mop the place.

Once you and the other boy exit, Jungwon advances on his friend menacingly. Riki—clearly noticing the sudden tension in the air—gulps and takes a step back.

“Hey, what’s with that face?” Riki tries to mask his sudden fear with light-heartedness. “I spoke to Y/N while you were getting the broom. She totally thinks you’re going to ask her out, by the way; you should thank me.”

Truthfully, he has no clue what he’s done wrong. But the best solution to everything is to play dumb, so that’s exactly what he does.

“Oh, really?” Jungwon’s face is eerily calm. “You’ve got her convinced, I’d say.”

“Y-yeah, I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t put it that way, but—”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he interrupts. 

Riki takes another step back, raising his palms placatingly. He opens his mouth, but upon seeing the way Jungwon’s eyes flash, no words come out.

“You’ve got her convinced that you’re going to ask her out to prom instead of me, idiot!”

The words tumble out of Jungwon’s mouth, heavy and scalding. He’s pissed off—rightfully so, seeing as the self-proclaimed “love expert” knows jack-shit about romance. Riki could give the trolls from Frozen a run for their money.

For once, Nishimura Riki is speechless. He closes his mouth, and then opens it, but closes it again. Jungwon gives up the tough boy act, letting his shoulders slump down and his head hang.

“For once,” he mumbles, “I thought shit would go the right way for me and Y/N. The way I’ve always wanted it to, at least.”

A twinge of guilt makes the other boy’s eyes widen with sympathy. Riki messed up—big-time—and now there’s no choice but for him to fix it. 

“You can tell Y/N I have no intention of going to prom with her,” he says. “I already have a date.”

Jungwon’s head shoots up. “You do?! You never told me.”

“That’s because I asked him five minutes ago.”

“That’s awesome, Riki.” Jungwon gives him a genuine smile, though his eyes betray his disappointment. “I’m really happy for you, you deserve—wait, him?”

“Yeah. I asked Sunoo if he wanted to go with me as friends. Neither of us could find a date, so we just decided to go together. The other option was going with my mom.”

“Oh. Good for you, then.”

“Maybe, but right now, we’re talking about you and your love life—”

“Which you screwed up for me.”

“—which is currently a wreck,” the boy finishes, disregarding Jungwon’s interruption. “Leave it up to me, Jungwon. I’ll fix this.”

Jungwon raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“No,” he admits, “but I swear I will fix this. I’m sorry I screwed up.”

The other boy pauses and considers, carefully observing Riki. Finally, he nods. “Fine, I believe you. Besides, if you screw up again, I’ll just revoke your basketball tickets.”

Riki blanches, and Jungwon lets his lips curl up with the taste of sweet, sweet victory.

SEVEN 

Riki shepherds you and Jungwon into an empty classroom, opening the door for you and shoving Jungwon in when he looked quizzically at the boy. Calm down, he mouths. It does absolutely nothing to calm Jungwon down; his eyes widen comically.

“Okay, impromptu meeting.” Riki claps his hands, a slow, sly grin spreading on his lips. You open your mouth to say something, but Riki doesn’t let you speak. “And by that, I mean you two are going to talk.”

Jungwon starts, “This is how you plan to fix—”

Riki slams the door shut, twisting the doorknob from outside. You hear a click. Jungwon looks at you, huffing out a breath exasperatedly. You tilt your head, extremely confused. “Why did he lock us in?”

“Beats me.” But he sounds resigned, as though he already knows what’s going to happen. It does nothing to ease your bewilderment.

“Okay, listen up!” Riki calls from outside. “I don’t have much time because I need to get all of this out before Sunoo comes back from the restroom. Y/N, I’m sorry I had to lock you up, but Jungwon’s a real airhead, so I’m doing his job for him.”

(Jungwon rolls his eyes at that, but for some reason, doesn’t meet your eyes. You lean back on a desk, crossing your arms and trying to figure out what, exactly, Nishimura Riki is playing at.)

Riki continues, “Yes, people consider me the all-knowing expert on love, but the truth is, every single couple I predicted was just a wild guess—it helped my reputation if they got together, but there was no science or anything behind it.”

(You nod. It’s such an obvious fact that you’re surprised no one’s ever noticed it before. Jungwon shrinks into himself, head down and arms wrapped around himself. You wonder what he’s thinking.)

“But if there’s one couple that I am sure about—” He pauses. “Let’s just say they’re meant to be, and everyone knows it. And… I would be a real fucking idiot if I didn’t try my best with them.”

(You feel your heart burst into a million golden pieces, in a way that fills you with joy and hope and nervousness all at once. You stare, dumbfounded, at your best friend, willing your heart to piece itself back together. It doesn’t work; you’re not sure you want it to. Jungwon slowly glances up, but just as quickly, he moves his gaze down again.)

“Y/N, Jungwon really likes you. He’s liked you for a long, long time. He wants to go to prom with you.”

(If happiness could be personified, you would be its personification.)

You hear the shuffling of footsteps and deduce that Riki has left—presumably to give you two some privacy. And for you and Jungwon to talk, because you still need to clear the air between you both. (You also want to hear him say he likes you; a bit self-indulgent, you suppose, but people have dreams.)

“Is it true?” you ask, trying your best to appear nonchalant, as though you haven’t just found out the love of your fucking life likes you back.

Jungwon still doesn’t meet your gaze. “Yeah,” he mumbles, so softly, you need to strain your ears to hear him over the deafening silence.

Boldly, you take a step towards him. And another, and one more, until your knees bump against his. 

“Yang Jungwon,” you say—and your closeness forces him to look at you— “you are an absolute idiot.”

He swallows. “I know. Look, I’m sorry, okay? You don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to reciprocate my feelings or anything. I’m fine with being just friends, because I would rather be something for you than nothing at all, and—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his.

When you pull away—just a peck would suffice, you think—his eyes are wide. “Oh, my God,” he squeaks, “you just kissed me.”

You giggle, endeared by his sudden shyness. “It appears so.”

He pulls you close, fingers encircling your wrist and his other hand resting on your waist. “Can I do it again?”

“Later,” you promise. “Right now… we need to talk.”

Jungwon nods. “Well, what’s there to say? I’ve liked you since middle school.”

“I’ve liked you since the eighth grade,” you confess. “It was so painful, thinking you didn’t like me back. You are the one I want to go to prom with, by the way. And my favourite book is Little Women because I could relate to Amy so much.” You let out an embarrassed laugh. “I felt like I was her, waiting for Laurie to look at her the way he looked at Jo.”

He sucks in a breath. “Maybe if you’d opened your eyes a little wider, you would know that I’ve been looking at you that way all along.”

You smile, letting his words seep into your heart and engrave themselves into your soul. He smiles back, squeezing your hand.

“We should probably thank Riki afterwards,” you say. “I bet he’s really happy that one of his couples didn’t turn out to be a fluke.”

“Later,” Jungwon says, echoing your words. His eyes flicker to your lips and back. “I just really wanna kiss you right now.”

“So,” you challenge him, “do it.”

Jungwon leans forward and captures your lips with his, his mouth moving gently against yours. You bring your hands up and place them around his neck, carding your fingers through the hair against the nape of his neck. Time seems to still, and you and Jungwon appear to move in slow-motion.

When he pulls away, he knocks his forehead against yours, smiling widely. “Go to prom with me?”

Your answer is on the tip of your tongue. “Of course.”

Jungwon’s heart swells, and he swoops in and kisses you again. Riki may be right; he may be an airhead when it comes to romance sometimes, but right now, Jungwon feels like he’s on top of the world. 

★ 【ひとみん】 「 ハウル詰め合わせ 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on twitter

Hi I've recently started following you and love your posts 🥺 so sweet!

Anyways, could I pls request a Sunghoon x reader where he comforts them somehow bc they're stressed abt work/school?

<3 thx!

♡ ꒱ more than friends 𓂃 ᗢᘏᓗ

pairing: best friend!Sunghoon x fem!Reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers

summary: seeing you panick over exams was a literal torture for your best friend, Sunghoon, who just wanted to help you feel better. Thanks to his unique way of “calming you down” he was able to do just that, along with successfully gaining himself a date with the girl he liked.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: kissing kissing and kissing, really fluffy fluff ending, mentions of having anxiety, mentions of exams and stress, usage of the word “shit”

a/n: it’s been a while since I’ve written a request so, I’m hoping you can enjoy this anonie! I got a little carried away with this and I hope it’s okay, please let me know what you think 🫶🏼

🖱⌨️ : masterlist

“Okay,” Sunghoon nodded, eyes focused on the paper in his hold which you stayed up preparing all night, for the oral exam you were about to take in an hour today, “let’s go over this once more.”

You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to clear your head for his questions. You were nervous, so much that Sunghoon was starting to get worried about you.

“Mhm.” You hummed in response, clumsily trying to wipe your wet palms on the fabric of your pleated skirt.

You could feel that there were no room left in your brain anymore to obtain any kind of additional information, no matter how crucial it was for the exam.

Yet there you were, forcing yourself to study when all you wanted to do was to go back to your bed and sleep for the rest of day.

“Or we can just take a break here and get some air—” Sunghoon suggested, noticing your struggle.

He wanted to help you so bad, seeing you like this was nothing other than a torture to him.

“No!” you shook your head and interrupted him with a high pitched voice that came out louder than you thought, unable to control your anxiety.

Realizing how rude you just sounded, you looked up, meeting with a pair of confused eyes.

Sunghoon seemed baffled, frozen at his seat while he was searching for an answer to give to you.

“Okay then, let’s—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— shit!”

You pursed your lips, brushing your hands through your wavy strands that had Sunghoon secretly swooning over you.

You really were so pretty, he couldn’t deny it.

Maybe that was the reason why he hated seeing you upset so much, because it didn’t suit your gorgeous face, just like this spoken moment.

You were interrupting him, again, but although he didn’t care much, it was the last straw for you to have an emotional outbreak.

Huffing out a frustrated groan, you cupped your face with both hands, pressing at your eyes to prevent the swelled up tears from falling down — which didn’t work.

Were you crazy?

Why were you yelling at your best friend who only tried to help? And why on earth were you crying right now?

“Y/n, shhh—” Sunghoon called your name, letting it roll out from his tongue softly as he got up and walked towards you with rushed steps.

“Hey, look at me,” he tapped on your shoulder lightly, “Come on sweetheart, let me see your pretty face, hm?”

“I have a runny nose,” you sobbed, “I’m not pretty right now!” you whined, which made him giggle over how honest you were.

“I don’t care,” he murmured, grabbing your wrists gently, “let me see you.” he said, forcefully moving your fisted hands away.

“I c-can’t make this s-stop!” You choked out as you looked at him behind swollen eyes, your lips and nose shining bright red due to the rush of blood.

“Shhh, It’s alright baby, it’s alright—”

“Make it stop Sunghoon, p-please!”

Not knowing what to say, Sunghoon gulped down in worry, hesitating over doing the only thing that came to his mind.

It almost felt like he was dealing with an acute brain deficiency, which was the last thing he needed right now.

Screw it, he thought to himself as he watched you break down completely, he couldn’t bare witnessing the sight of you pouring your heart out anymore.

So with a deep breath, he took your face in between his hands and wiped away the wetness on your cheeks before pulling you towards himself, only to press his soft lips on your dry ones.

He closed his eyes and held you still as he kissed you, pushing you against the wall behind you to prevent you from running away — not that you were trying to anyways, you were too stunned to move a limb.

Despite the wacky circumstances, the kiss was fluttering for the both of you, making his heartbeat fasten as it calmed yours.

You tasted sweet, much better than his favorite candy flavor. It made him want to not stop and risk everything instead, even though it would most likely cost him your friendship.

Or so he thought.

Stealing one last peck from you, he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours as he struggled to look into your eyes.

He felt dizzy, almost like he was unable to stand straight on his feet.

“I r-read it somewhere,” he stuttered, licking his lips, “that k-kissing could help with p-panic attacks.” he said, trying to disperse the strange mood in the room.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so did it work?” He asked, blinking a few times expectantly. Now he was even more nervous than you, feeling his hands shake as he placed them on both sides your waist.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you pouted, crossing your arms around his neck, “it was too short for me to tell, don’t you think?” You teased, pulling him closer as you played with the small hairs on his nape.

“That so?” He whispered, fanning his hot breath against your blushed cheeks. You looked so mesmerizing, he could barely breathe in front of you.

“Mhm,”

“Then how about this?”

Just like that, you found his lips back on yours again, gently moving with a slow rhythm. Delicately, he placed a hand on your cheek and tilted your head as he hugged your waist, wanting to give you what you were asking for exactly.

A small whimper fell from your mouth as you tugged on his hair for more, which was enough for him to understand that he was on the right track.

But instead of giving you more of what you wanted, he chose to stop and tease you a little, just like you did to him.

“So?” He asked, breaking the kiss, chuckling at the redness of your face. “Was this long enough for you?”

Unable to stop your lips from curling up, you gave in and let a cute chuckle escape from your mouth.

He smiled at the way you hid your face on the crook of his neck, laughing along with you over your clumsy attempts on avoiding his flirty gaze.

“What is it, are you shy now?”

“No,” you rejected, trying to sound like you were not at all effected by what just happened, “Why would I be shy?”

“Because we just kissed, love,” he muttered right next to your ear, emphasizing on the last word, “and we did it twice.”

“You meant to say thrice?”

“Wha—”

Not letting him finish, you pushed your lips on his, once again getting the upper hand. This time you were the one cupping his cheeks and tilting his face, causing a heart attack on his poor body.

He could feel his knees give in as he leaned his weight down on you, letting you pull him as close as you wished.

“See?” you mumbled, panting for air in between kisses, “thrice.” you said, giving him a one last kith.

He nodded approvingly as he chased after your lips for more, pouting when you pushed him away, not letting him get greedy with you.

“I see,” he cleared his throat, following after you to gather his stuff from the table since it was almost the time for the exam, “then what should I do to get my fourth kiss?”

Smirking at his daring question, you threw him a sassy look, fixing his tie as you locked your eyes with his beautiful brown ones.

You seemed to gain your confidence back almost as if that anxiety attack never happened, which was a great sight to see for Sunghoon, since he felt like he could finally be of help.

“Do you really want it that badly?”

“I do actually,” he sighed, wanting to look dramatic, “very much, if I’m being honest.”

“Then take me out on a date after this, Park,” you responded, trying not to show how much his answer got you excited, “Impress me and you’ll get your kiss.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” you giggled, “promise.”

“Consider it done then, L/n,” he concluded, fixing your smudged lipstick with a dirty grin on his face.

Oh how sweet it was, watching your cheeks turn red because of him, he couldn’t put his joy into words.

“I hope you’re ready for the best date of your life.”

©hee-poster on tumblr | est. 2022

ᓚᘏᗢ 𓂃 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ⌗

@gegeetime @sei-ryuu @jak-ey @hanienie @quokkasunggie @02dreamerz @hsheart @jyunillaa

i think... my doctor.... likes me.... im gonna kill my self.......

UPDATE!!!!!! they are dating 😋😋 and she blocked me yup!!!!!

told my best friend i had a crush on this guy now they (my best friend and the guy) are acting like a couple 😍😍

i have a headache

baby came home — n.rk

PROMPT: ‘that gaze–tired, soft, their thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching, silently mumbling an “i love you"’ from list i.

wc: 0.4k genre: fluff/ comfort pairing: bf!riki x gn!reader warnings: none!

🧇: @tyunni​ for u my love. i love u and riki muah i hope u like it.

nishimura riki was a perfectionist. 

weeks into your relationship, you realized how hard the boy was on himself. it worried you, really. you were beyond proud of him for how he is, and you hoped he saw what you saw in him.

so when he came home one day, not his usual happy but tired demeanor, you knew it was one of those days where he just needed words of love, and tight hugs.

“hi riki.” you whisper to him as he walks through the door. he looks tired, he looks disappointed. and you hate that he doesnt believe in himself.

he smiles softly at you, happy that at least youre the one thing right in his life. he throws his arms around you, placing his head in the crook of your neck. you bring your hand up to stroke his hair to comfort him.

you pull away to look at him. you can tell he’s trying to put on a smile for you. 

“i made you something to eat. do you wanna eat now? or do you wanna talk for a while? we can do however you like.” you smile at him, caressing his cheek as he replies, wanting to talk to you about his day. it always made him feel better to talk to you.

the two of you moved to the couch, you keep him close to you, his arms around your waist and his head on your chest.

“how was your day?” you ask him. you dont even need a proper answer to know. pressing a kiss to his forehead, you wait for his reply.

he hesitates.

“it was .. alright i guess. i dont think i did my best today.” you feel the quiver in his voice.

he looks up at you, youre smiling softly at him. You move your hands to cup his cheeks in your palm.

“well, i think you did amazing today. i know i wasnt there to see you, but i know you did well. i’m proud of you riki.”

he lets out one, two, three tears at your words. you hold back your tears, wanting to be strong for him too. you press another kiss to his forehead. “im so very proud of you riki. I love you.”

he looks up at you, his gaze ; tired, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching. you close the distance between the two of you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. when you pull away, he pulls you back in, and you dont complain, molding your lips together gently.

He pulls away, after kissing you one more time, silently mumbling an ‘i love you’ against your lips, before connecting it to yours again.

nishimura riki might not think hes perfect. But you do. and hes more than content with that.

[no more requests please!]

THE RAIN HAS AN EDGE ╰ ﹙ ☁️ ﹚ft. park sunghoon ﹕ a oneshot ﹙ preview ﹚

you are the girl with an umbrella on a rainy day, and sunghoon is the boy at the bus stop drenched from head to toe.

in a nutshell ﹒ there’s a heavy downpour so you hold an umbrella over sunghoon and he looks at you like you’re crazy // 100% fluff

word count ﹒ preview is 1.5k; full ver ~6-7k

fic one of the between the lines series ﹙ coming soon ! ﹚

“true, the sun and the wind inspire. but the rain has an edge. who, after all, dreams of dancing in the dust? or kissing in the bright sun?” — cynthia barnett

now playing ﹒ paris in the rain﹙ lauv ﹚

THE FIRST TIME you talk to park sunghoon, it’s raining, it’s cold, and jake had ditched you to “hang out” with chaewon, because he’s a crappy friend who pounces at any opportunity for female attention.

after your study session in the school library finishes, you find yourself standing at the school’s front entrance, grimacing at the downpour of rain in front of you. heavy pellets pummelled from the sky like bullets, forming puddles in the divots of the ground and lowering the temperature enough to make you shiver. 

lucky for you, you remembered to bring your umbrella.

this was a habit of yours even on the sunniest of days, after spending five days bedridden with a fever following The Great Downpour of 2020.

when you reached for your backpack and unfurled your umbrella, it sprung to life and off you went, hopping down the cement paveway that led to the nearest bus stop.

you’re just about to slip in your earphones when you stop in your tracks, spotting a figure a few steps ahead of you. 

the person is crouching on the ground at the bus stop, hunched over and hugging their bookbag in an attempt at gathering warmth. 

the person is drenched and miserable.

and practically radiating angst and despair.  

because you’ve always been a totally (impulsive) caring and selfless person, you shuffle over and hold your umbrella over the person’s head.

they look up — and just when you encounter a cold gaze, dark brows and raven hair — you realise that the moody figure is none other than park sunghoon.

park sunghoon, the ridiculously good-looking senior everybody whispers about but doesn’t actually know anything about. 

park sunghoon, the guy who always wears a stoic, unsmiling expression that makes him the most unapproachable of his group of friends. 

and park sunghoon, the one who’s staring at you with a baffled and slightly distrustful expression on his face. 

oh.

you’re just standing here, staring at him like a creep. 

crap.

you should say something.

you open and shut your mouth a few times, trying to brainstorm what you might possibly say. you want to sound smart. and funny. and cool. so, naturally, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a very intelligent and super profound, “it’s, uh. . . raining.”

sunghoon continues to stare, his brows slightly furrowed to suggest he was questioning your sanity. 

“it’s raining,” you stupidly repeat louder, as though he hadn’t heard you over the rain. 

“good catch,” he replies, his gruff voice coinciding with the slight dip of his lips. 

the rumors are so true. 

sunghoon definitely has a very grumpy, rather angsty demeanour. you’ve actually spotted him around school a few times (you may or may not follow him with your eyes every time he’s around. is that a crime? it can’t be! you’re not the only one in the student body who finds him extremely attractive and painfully enigmatic), but he’s not the kind of person you can approach so easily.

in fact, he’s been coined the nickname ice prince for a reason.

“yes, uh,” you struggle to string together a coherent set of words, especially because he stands to his feet now, and you have to make the effort to not be intimidated by his height. 

“what i meant to say is that it’s raining but you don’t have an umbrella,” you laughed awkwardly, wanting to whack your head and yell stupid, stupid, stupid for impulsively waddling over here and saying stupid things to park sunghoon of all people. “i-i mean, obviously it’s a free country and you can totally do whatever you want, but, as you might already know — and i’m sure you do because you’re one of the smartest kids in school — standing in the rain can get you sick, like, really sick, and i only know this because about three years ago i forgot my umbrella and — funny story — i ended up getting so sick that i had to take five days off school because my fever was so high.”

oh god.

you quickly slap the tips of your fingers over your lips to physically restrain yourself from talking. the motion makes sunghoon’s gaze quickly flit to your lips, before they bounce back up to your eyes.

his stare is so painfully emotionless that you cringe inwardly.

you wish he’d say something.

anything. literally anything.

but he’s silent.

well, of course he is — you basically just trauma dumped about your stupid fever story. boo-hoo, you were sick from the rain — who cares?

just when you think you’ve reached the death of the conversation, you’re surprised by the sound of his soft voice.

“. . . niki.”

huh?

you blink, leaning in slightly so that you can hear him better.

“. . . niki. my brother. he took the last umbrella.”

oh.

your lips form a small o as you nod in understanding. “oh, niki! that doesn’t surprise me. he’s in my class, you know, and he’s always playing pranks on our teacher. one time he actually hid the test papers so we got a whole extra day to study,” your voice lowers to a whisper, “can’t believe i still failed it though. . .”

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, and afraid of being submerged in awkward silence again, you rush to fill in the space. 

“so where’s niki now?”

he shrugs. “soccer practice, probably.”

“oh,” you frown. “wait, aren’t you part of the soccer team, too? you’re the goalie. you saved so many goals last season and helped the team to their first win in two years,” you say, though your eyes widen in panic as soon the words leave your mouth, “n-not that i’m a stalker, or anything,” you frantically add, “it’s just that everyone knows you’re the goalie because one, it’s common knowledge, and two, the game is coming up and we’re all on the edge of our seats to find out how it goes!” 

stupid stupid stupid. 

why are you rambling so much? 

sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though his lips flatten in a rather sour manner. “i quit the team, actually.”

you gasp. “you’re the person jake is replacing? he’s been so cocky ever since it was announced that he’d be on the team. what made you quit?”

he shrugs, “it got boring,” he mumbles, then his ears turn slightly red and he dips his head in an emotion you never imagined park sunghoon could wear — embarrassment. “and i accidentally sprained my ankle.”

you blinked in surprise. “how?”

he hesitates before answering. “i tripped.” 

you stifle a laugh at the irony, because while sunghoon was a lot of adjectives — tall, handsome, mysterious, brooding, kind of scary, even — you never thought he was clumsy.

you softly cackle, earning you a glare from the boy. 

“sorry,” you grin playfully, growing accustomed to his icy aura. “i just never pictured you as a klutz.”

“says you,” he grumbles, “weren’t you the one who tripped and fell in the cafeteria last week? ”

“what—” you choked, “you saw that?”

he exhaled through his nose in amusement. “who didn’t?” sunghoon raised a brow at you. “i’m pretty sure someone recorded and posted it. the caption was ‘dumbass fails to do simple task and ends up with food all over her clothes.’”

your eyes slammed shut before they shot open. “fucking jake,” you growled, gripping the umbrella tightly. “i’m going to kill him.”

sunghoon chuckled, and the sound made your heart beat a little faster. you caught a fleeting glimpse of his smile which — by the way — showcased the most emotion you had ever seen from the boy. it couldn’t be helped that your stomach mangled and twisted at his pearly-white boyish smile, one that made his cheeks bunch up his face and his eyes twinkle like stars.

how pretty.

his smile faded as quickly as it appeared, however, and you soon found yourself facing his usual blank expression again. 

you want to try say something that might make him smile or laugh again, but he suddenly steps outside of the cage of your umbrella and raises his hand, hailing down the incoming bus. 

it slowly stops by the road beside the two of you, marking the end of your little interaction. 

“oh, your bus is here,” you force a smile, rather disappointed. “i’ll, um, see you later, sunghoon.”

“get home safe,” he retrieves his bus card from his pocket, glancing over his shoulder before he boards his bus. “and thanks. for the umbrella.” 

“n-no problem!” you quickly smile, “and by the way, my name is—”

“i know your name,” he interjects, and you think your mind is playing tricks on you when you see the edges of his lips twitch upward. “see you around.” 

sunghoon disappears into the bus and it whizzes by you, though you stay frozen in your feet for what feels like forever. 

he knows your name.

he’ll see you around.

you tuck your lip between your teeth, cheeks and ears flaring up.

get home safe.

if that’s what he truly wants, then yes — you think you can manage that.

( to be continued )

this is a preview only ﹒ full fic is estimated 6-7k ﹒ taglist open — send an ask, dm, or reply !

a/n . btw this is a preview only. the full fic might come out next week ? anyway my first hoonie fic and it's 100% pure, unadulterated fluff <3 this is inspired by paris in the rain + the above quote + an exo fic i adore ^^ hope u all liked it :) see u in the full version maybe ? 🤓

au where sunghoon thinks he's cupid (cupid is so fucking dumb 😡😡😡)