Calculated Feelings
Pairing: Math tutor!jungwon x cheerleader f!reader (Jay x reader)
Genre: Mature; fluff; crack; slight angst;
Synopsis: A confident cheerleader and her reserved, nerdy tutor navigate a playful yet heartfelt journey from academic partnership to a romance defined by trust, humor, and undeniable chemistry. Their connection deepens as they balance teasing banter with heartfelt moments, proving that opposites truly attract.
Warnings: cheatingish? (Not reader), jealousy, steamy dance, heavy makeout?; otherwise it's chill
A/N: I've been contemplating posting this for a few months. Then I remembered, this is my blog. Okay enjoy 😉 Feedback is very much welcome 🫶🏽
Jungwon was the kind of guy who could make quantum physics sound like a bedtime story and calculus seem like a walk in the park. He was brilliant—everyone knew it—but he also had the emotional availability of a brick wall. His "no-nonsense" reputation was infamous, and he seemed perfectly fine existing in his own bubble of books and study sessions.
You, on the other hand, were the school’s favourite cheerleader, radiating charm and confidence. If you needed something, people bent over backward to make it happen. That’s just how things worked. But Jungwon? Oh, he was a different story altogether.
When you realized your grades were slipping in math, you decided Jungwon was the perfect solution. He was smart, cute, and just the challenge you craved. But the first time you approached him, your big smile and sugary tone were met with an ice-cold, "No. Go find someone else to try and manipulate."
Most people would have backed off, but not you. Oh no. The boy was a puzzle, and you loved puzzles. So, you decided to crank up your charm. Compliments? Check. You practically wrote sonnets about his handwriting and his perfect scores. Treats? Check. You started leaving his favourite snacks (after a little harmless snooping) on his desk. And when all else failed, you went straight to the top and got the lecturer to assign Jungwon as your official tutor with a printed letter to prove it.
When you handed it to him, he sighed so deeply you almost felt bad. Almost.
“Fine,” he said, glaring at you over his glasses. “But I have rules. No flirting, no touching, no distractions. If you can’t stick to that, I’m done. Understand?”
You nodded earnestly, clutching the letter like it was a trophy. "I promise," you said, your fingers crossed tightly behind your back.
Because, really, how were you supposed to not flirt when he looked that good explaining integrals? This was going to be fun.
