it’s ok girl if pt 2 it never comes don’t stress yourself i can use my imagination 🫶
but if you wereeeee to give jungwon and y/n a happy ending together i wouldn’t say no 👀
and FUCK whoever did that to you irl that’s so upsetting omfg i don’t blame you for being salty still cause i lowkey would be too
awe i love you so muchh :(( lmao, i’ll see what i can do abt a part 2.. 👀
lowk dump rq! so i was at a festival watching fireworks yesterday, and when they finished i started walking home, and then irl mia and jungwon came up to me… together… holding hands…
talking about sum “omg i haven’t talked to you in forever! it’s so good seeing you!” GET OUT MY FACEEEE
ALSO MIND U, “jungwon” was behind her the whole time, and didn’t say a single word… buddy like…??? we’ve been friends for years and you can’t even say hi to me? y’all are running THAT strict of a program?
OKAY SORRY FOR THE DUMP IM JUST IRRITATED, that whole interaction lowkey prompted me to write the fic 😭😭
INTIMACY EW ? . . therapist!jake ─── 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗎 . 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀s ❤︎ sexual content . therapy . intimacy talks . suggestive to explicit . blurring of medical boundaries . mdni . talks of female pleasure & kinks . body image issues . . . y/n is lowkey a pervert…, masturbation and sex talks full fic O1. (O2.) NEXT
作者的话 — taglist is open ! this is not related to jake in any shape or form he only acts as a face claim in this. for sex ed purposes as well! let’s learn a little about female pleasure ! overall idea inspired by s. therapy @/bangtanlobe on inkit
to the girl who is always the lesson but never the one
pairing: non-idol!jungwon x fem!reader
warnings: angst with happy ending, fluff, y/n is an overthinker and has lots of insecurities, heartbreak, jungwon somehow giving mixed signals, slow burn, did i miss anything?? hopefully not.
premise: y/n has always been the lesson, never the one. so when jungwon, the boy who is kind to everyone, begins caring for her in ways that feel a little too intentional to ignore, she convinces herself it’s just his nature. but as her feelings grow, she reminds herself how relationships always end. now, she must decide whether believing in him is worth the risk of being temporary again.
word count: 21,660
***
dear, y/n,
in this world, there are two types of people: the one and the lesson. sad to say, you're the latter.
there is a specific kind of exhaustion that comes with being someone’s stepping stone.
you spend months, sometimes years smoothing out their rough edges, teaching them how to love properly, how to listen, and how to stay. and then, once they’ve finally learned the lesson, they leave to go be with someone else.
at this point, you've become an expert at the curriculum. but you were never the one who got to keep the degree.
the cafe was loud, a chaotic symphony of clinking ceramic cups and the low hum of afternoon chatter, but it all faded into white noise the moment the image loaded on your feed.
it was a simple photo. a sunlit afternoon, two matching gold rings, and a caption that felt like a quiet slap to my face: soobin, your ex, his hands on another girl’s waist while he kisses her cheek.
thank you for teaching me how to love properly, the caption said.
two years.
you stared at the photo, my thumb hovering over the screen. he was with you for two years and he couldn’t say those words to you, even in your anniversary. the whole time in your relationship, he was reckless, emotionally distant, and entirely unpolished. you spent a year settling for what you had because you thought it was love.
but the day he sent you a text saying it was over, he told you he just wasn't ready for commitment. now you realize he was ready, he just needed two years of your patience to learn how to be the man a girl deserved.
then there was jaemin, a senior from high school, your first…you wouldn’t say boyfriend but a fling. it was simple, you liked him and he liked you back. but only because you liked him that he liked you back.
then when he met a girl from his club where he really, really liked, your fling was over.
and even before all of them, there was the ultimate what if: park jongseong.
he was your childhood friend, the boy who lived just doors down, whose laughter was the soundtrack to your earliest memories. you had loved him since you were six years old, a silly, innocent crush that somehow managed to grow up right alongside you. as the years bled into high school, that fondness turned into something heavy and terrifying. you spent months practicing confessions in front of your bedroom mirror, your heart hammering against your ribs, only to swallow the words every time you saw him smile at you. he was your safe haven. the risk of speaking up and ruining the one steady friendship you had was a price you couldn't bear to pay.
until, he took an interest in your cousin, karina. you watched frozen as he confessed to her in the school field during lunch. he told you that day that he would confess, breaking your illusion of anything happening between the both of you. what you didn’t expect was he fell for someone you also knew for years, let alone a family member.
then months later, he admitted that he liked you back. but you were still just children then. his definition of love was too small, too cautious to risk breaking the fragile, beautiful friendship you had built. he didn’t know how to hold a girl’s hand while holding her history at the same time. but thanks to you, he knew what real love was. you gave him a lesson he’d forever treasure.
just not with you.
the worst part, you never got to tell him how you felt. you just quietly stepped aside, becoming the supportive best friend who helped him figure out what to say to her.
"y/n? hey, are you even listening to me?"
wonhee, your roommate snapped the thread of my thoughts. she was sitting across you, a half-eaten plate of pasta between us, looking at me with a mixture of concern and mild annoyance.
you locked my phone, the screen going mercifully black, and forced a practiced smile onto my face. "yeah. sorry. just... an internship notification. what were you saying?”
"i was saying about the drama I just overheard by the counter while getting our drinks."
she leaned in closer across the small table, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "you know jisu from the department next to ours? apparently, she and sunghoon just made it official on their feeds. like, matching profile pictures, public couple status, the whole nine yards."
wonhee shook her head, taking a slow sip of her drink. "everyone is losing their minds because sunghoon used to be notorious for being completely uncatchable. he’d date a girl for a month, get bored, and leave them with enough character development to write a novel. but look at him now—completely whipped. i guess some girls are just born to be the final destination, while the rest of us are just the rest stops along the highway."
you gave wonhee a weak smile, “tell me about it.”
just when you were about to mope on your feelings, your boss from your internship messaged that you interns are needed tomorrow for an urgent shoot. luckily, you had no classes tomorrow so you have time while still catching up with some tasks for school.
tomorrow has finally arrived and you came to the building of the prestige building of véra, a magazine known for its sleek minimalism and its legendary ability to turn underground creators into overnight icons. it was a place where trends didn't just get covered—they were born.
"no, absolutely not. the lighting is completely flat, and the silk looks like cardboard under these gels. look at the monitor!"
"i’m tracking the ambient light, okay? but if you want that raw, overcast mood you specifically asked for in the mood board, we need to shift the reflectors. now."
the sharp, overlapping voices echoed across the massive concrete studio space the moment you pushed past the heavy double doors. the atmosphere inside was thick with tension, a frantic ballet of production assistants rushing past with garment bags, makeup artists adjusting their kits under blinding vanity lights, and the distant, rhythmic clack-clack-clack of a high-end camera shutter.
in the center of the chaos stood the creative director, kang jiah, pinching the bridge of her nose in sheer frustration, while the lead photographer, oh minseok adjusted a massive lens on his tripod.
as a makeup artist student, your brain automatically began calculating the fix before anyone even asked you to. you could see the problem from ten feet away: the model had a gorgeous, warm skin tone, but the current lighting was clashing with the undertone of her foundation, making the high-shine finish look chaotic instead of seamless.
you gripped the handles of your professional makeup train case a little tighter, swallowing down your nervousness. you were just a standby intern here to clean brushes, prep skin, or rush to the makeup artist’s bag for products they need, but the thick tension in the room made your heart hammer against your ribs.
“excuse me,” a calm, clear voice suddenly broke the thick tension in the room. "if i may offer a small suggestion? what if we change the polarization instead?"
from the shadows behind the main monitor setup, a boy who seemed to be around your age stepped forward. he was dressed simply in a loose black sweater and clean trousers, a professional light meter slung casually around his neck.
"if we drop a linear polarizer onto the lens and tilt the key light down by just five degrees, the camera should cut the greasy reflection from the strobe while keeping the model's natural skin texture completely intact. director kang gets her soft, glass-skin look on the monitor, and you won't lose your highlights, sir. It should take less than two minutes to adjust."
the studio went quiet for a beat. photographer oh peered over his shoulder, checking the math on the monitor, before a slow, appreciative nod broke across his face. he stepped up to his own rig, quickly adjusting the polarization filter to test the student's theory.
"he's right. the polarization math checks out," photographer oh announced to the room, looking thoroughly impressed. "good eye…what’s your name?”
“jungwon, sir. yang jungwon.”
“good eye, jungwon.” director kang told jungwon with her stern voice but the look of amusement on her face did not leave.
yang jungwon.
everyone at the university knew who he was. he wasn't just talented; he was the golden boy and a prodigy. he was the type of student who's friends with everyone, the student whose photography portfolios were already being archived by professors as future curriculum benchmarks.
he possessed a rare, effortless blend of sharp academic intelligence and raw artistic intuition. he was brilliant, celebrated, and completely out of reach.
a boy existing in a flawless, sunlit orbit that a guarded, cynical standby intern like you had no business crossing.
jungwon wiped a stray lock of hair from his forehead, offering a small, dimpled smile to a stressed-out production assistant who had just dropped a roll of gaffer tape near his feet. he bent down, picked it up, and handed it back to her with a gentle, "here you go. don't worry, we have plenty of time."
you swallowed hard, averting your eyes.
he was brilliant, he was elite, and he was universally kind. the ultimate hazard sign.
it would be a lie if you said you didn't find him cute the first time you saw him in the building.
"y/n, go in and touch up the nose and jawline," the head makeup artist, hyeji called out, waving a hand toward the vanity. "matte it down just a bit so the polarization works properly."
you blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, and quickly grabbed your powder puff and a translucent setting powder.
walking onto a live set always felt like stepping into a spotlight. your heart did a nervous little flutter as you approached the model, consciously keeping your eyes glued to her face and away from the monitor station where jungwon was standing.
"excuse me," you whispered politely to the model, stepping into her personal space.
you raised your hand, your fingers stabilizing against her jaw as you gently tapped the powder puff onto her skin. this was your comfort zone. the familiar scent of cosmetics and the meticulous, rhythmic tapping usually calmed your nerves.
until you felt a presence shift right behind you.
"ah, wait a second please," a quiet voice murmured.
you froze, your hand hovering inches from the model’s cheek. jungwon had stepped up right next to you, leaning in slightly to look at the model's face through the small space between you two. he was close enough that you could catch the subtle, clean scent of his fabric softener—like fresh laundry and cold winter air.
he wasn't looking at you. his sharp, focused eyes were entirely on how the studio lights hit the model's skin finish. he raised a hand, using his thumb to gently mimic the angle of the key light.
"if she tilts her chin up just a fraction when y/n finishes dusting the powder," jungwon said softly, addressing the photographer while subconsciously using your name, "the shadow under the jaw will clean up perfectly."
your breath hitched in your throat. y/n. he didn't even know you, yet hearing your name leave his lips in that calm, casual tone felt like a sudden spike of electricity.
this feeling was familiar, you said.
as soon as the thought crossed your mind, a cold wave of reality washed over you, dousing the spark before it could even catch fire. you quickly finished the last few taps of powder, stepped back, and offered a hurried, polite bow to the model and jungwon before retreating to the dark edges of the studio.
your chest felt tight. you're doing it again, you scolded yourself, your fingers gripping the plastic handle of your powder compact so hard your knuckles turned white.
you felt pathetic. you felt completely, utterly cursed.
it was always like this. one soft glance, one polite gesture, a boy simply using your name and your heart was already trying to sprint ahead. you fell fast, hopelessly fast, like a script that had already been written for you a hundred times before. you were the girl who romanticized the bare minimum, the girl who mistook a photographer's technical focus for something personal.
you closed your eyes for a brief second, forcing your breathing to steady.
if you let yourself look at yang jungwon, you knew exactly how this story would end. he would smile, he would be kind, he would inadvertently teach you how to love a little deeper—and then he would hand his heart to someone else, leaving you behind with nothing but a notebook full of character development.
you weren't going to be the rest stop on his highway. not this time.
"y/n? can you clean the brushes from the morning prep?" the senior makeup artist's voice called out from the vanity room.
"coming," you replied, your voice dropping back into its practiced, neutral tone. you pulled your shoulders back and walked away from the lit set, determined to keep yourself distracted from whatever feelings that are rising.
***
dear, y/n,
sometimes, old habits die hard. you recognized the electricity today, didn't you? it’s the exact same current that left you in the dark three times before. he is a walking hazard sign with a dimpled smile, and you are already stepping over the yellow tape. the truth is, you missed the way a single voice could make the room tilt, and for the first time in a very long time, it felt kind of beautiful to feel everything all at once again.
the train ride home was the worst part of the day. it gave you too much time to think, the rhythmic, metallic hum of the carriage matching the uneasy beat of your heart as the train rattled through the city.
sitting crushed between tired commuters, you pulled out your phone. your thumbs moved on pure instinct, opening the app and typing his name into the search bar before your logical brain could even try to stop you.
@jw_209
you swallowed hard as his profile loaded. no private account lock. no gatekeeping. just a blue checkmark, a massive follower count, and a grid that looked exactly like a highly curated digital museum.
your eyes scanned his feed, and that familiar flutter settled deep in your chest.
he liked taking photos of landscapes with ethereal vibes. misty horizons, soft pastel sunrises over quiet shorelines, and ancient trees swallowed by a dreamlike haze. he captured the world in a way that made ordinary things look completely breathtaking.
he was incredibly talented, yet his captions were entirely humble. just a single camera emoji or a word or phrases about the fleeting nature of everyday moments, or how softly a quiet afternoon can pass you by.
then, you scrolled down a bit further and hit the real hazard zone: his tagged photos.
there were countless pictures of him posted by other people. jungwon sitting at a university cafe surrounded by a huge group of friends, all of them leaning into him. jungwon smiling broadly, showing off those deep, clear dimples as he held up a peace sign next to girls from the dance club, the cheer squad, the student council. every single person in his tagged photos looked happy just to be standing near him.
he was tagged in sweet birthday posts, late-night study group sessions, and celebratory dinner collages. he wasn't just liked. he was cherished by everyone who crossed his path.
though he doesn't post photos of people in his social media. you guessed he likes to keep the people in his life private or he just likes taking photos of landscapes than people.
on the way back home, you were pulled right out of your thoughts by the familiar chimes of the convenience store down the street from your dorm.
the door swung open, and a boy stepped out into the humid night air, a small plastic bag dangling from his fingers. your footsteps completely faltered on the pavement.
it was yang jungwon.
he was dressed down even more than he had been at the studio, his hair slightly damp and a pair of simple slippers on his feet. he stopped under the warm, buzzing glow of the storefront sign, completely breaking the distant, untouchable image you had just been staring at on your phone. he was right here. in your neighborhood.
before you could even think about hiding or turning around, he raised his head. his sharp eyes blinked in surprise, and then, those deep, familiar dimples cut into his cheeks as he caught sight of you.
"oh? y/n, right?"
“j-jungwon!”
damn it, you really had to stutter and raise your voice.
“you just got home?”
"yeah, the head artist wanted the foundation brushes sanitized tonight because the morning crew needs them fresh, and then i had to sort the sponge bins and double-check the inventory list for the next shoot since we won't even be there on friday, so it just took way longer than expected."
it felt like you couldn’t breathe after that. why did you have to overexplain? he had asked a simple four-word question, and you had handed him a full logistical breakdown of your internship duties like a nervous suspect under interrogation.
jungwon blinked softly, taking in your breathless ramble. for a horrifying second, you thought he might find you completely weird—but then, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and that deep, gentle dimple appeared on his cheek.
"ah, so that's why you're so late," he murmured, his voice incredibly soft in the quiet night air. "you worked really hard today.”
“t-thank you. it was just part of the job, really. i’m still just a standby intern, so i have to do my best not to get in anyone's way."
jungwon tilted his head slightly, his gaze warm. "you didn't get in anyone's way. your skin prep made the polarization adjustment work perfectly."
the fact that he remembered that brought your heart into a sudden, breathless flutter, the erratic rhythm pounding so loud against your ribs you were terrified he could hear it in the midnight quiet. it was that exact same jolt of electricity from the studio, only this time, it felt twice as loud under the quiet streetlights. your heart was doing dangerous, hopeful flips, completely ignoring every single warning you had just given yourself.
jungwon shifted his weight, his plastic bag rustling softly against his sweatpants. he looked down at the street for a second, a small, polite smile lingering on his lips before he looked back up at you.
"well, it's getting pretty late," he said softly, gesturing slightly with his head toward the direction of the apartment blocks. "i should probably head back home before the ice cream i bought completely melts."
you blinked, forcing your brain to kick back into gear. "oh! right, yeah. of course. go ahead."
"get home safely, y/ni," he murmured, stepping past you with a gentle nod. "see you at the studio on friday."
"goodnight," you whispered to his retreating back.
you stood frozen on the pavement, watching his tall, relaxed figure disappear into the shadows of the street. the subtle scent of his fabric softener still lingered faintly in the humid night air, a cruel reminder that he had actually been standing right there.
you let out a long, shaky exhale, finally allowing your shoulders to drop. you were supposed to be building walls. you were supposed to be guarding your heart against the ultimate hazard sign.
but as you turned the key to your dorm room, your heart was still stubbornly replaying the exact way his dimples looked under the convenience store light.
the quiet hum of your desk lamp was the only sound in the room. you had been staring at your color theory assignment for the past hour, but the lines of text were starting to blur together. your brain was entirely fried.
just a five-minute break, you promised yourself.
it was a lie, and you knew it. your fingers moved on pure autopilot, unlocking your phone and opening the app before your conscience could stage an intervention. you had explicitly told yourself to stop looking. you had promised yourself on the train, and again at the door of your dorm, that you wouldn't feed the curse.
but as you clicked on his profile, a little red circle illuminated his profile picture.
new post • 2 min. ago
your breath caught. you tapped it.
it wasn't an ethereal landscape or a misty sunrise. it was a shot taken from a low angle, capturing the wet asphalt of the pavement reflecting the warm, buzzing neon glow of the convenience store sign down your street. in the distance, the blurry silhouette of the quiet neighborhood stretched into the dark, looking incredibly nostalgic and soft through his lens.
it was the exact spot where you had been standing together just an hour ago.
he had captured the ordinary street and turned it into something poetic. your heart did that dangerous, breathless stumble all over again as your eyes drifted down to the caption.
he wrote: daylight.
***
dear y/n,
how are you supposed to know which signs are real and which ones are just the universe playing a cruel joke? when you spend your whole life guarding your heart against a curse, you start to see warnings everywhere. you read caution tape in a polite smile. you read danger in a dimple. but when a boy posts a picture of a midnight street and labels it daylight, what are you supposed to believe? is it a green light, or just another beautiful hazard sign?
you and jungwon have the same elective of visual media color theory. though you never noticed him fully until yesterday’s studio shoot, you now vividly remember seeing his name printed right above yours on the attendance sheet every single week.
today, you sat right in the middle of the classroom just to get a better view, since you could barely see the slides when you were seated at the sides of the room.
what you didn't expect was looking up to see the dimpled boy sliding into the empty seat right next to you, greeting you with a soft smile.
“hey, y/n.”
“h-hi! jungwon.”
the syllable felt heavy on your tongue, entirely too loud for the quiet buzz of the classroom before the professor walked in. you quickly looked down at your desk, blindly organizing your highlighters just to keep your hands from shaking.
he set his laptop down on the wooden desk, the plastic convenience store bag from last night nowhere to be seen, replaced now by the clean, sharp scent of his usual cologne. out of the corner of your eye, you watched him lean back in his chair, his long legs stretching out comfortably under the desk.
"you usually sit by the windows, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and conversational as he adjusted his screen.
your hands froze on your pencil case. you turned your head to look at him, your chest tightening. "y-yes. how did you know?"
jungwon paused, his fingers hovering over his keyboard. he turned his head to meet your gaze, those deep dimples faintly tracing his cheeks as a soft, easy smile broke across his face. "i sit a few rows back. it's kind of hard not to notice when you're always dropping your pens under the chairs."
a mortified heat rushed straight to your face. you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. all this time, you thought you were completely invisible, a nameless face in a hundred-person lecture hall. but he hadn't just seen you yesterday—he had been watching your clumsy morning routines for weeks.
"i don't drop them that often," you muttered defensively, though your voice lacked any real bite because your heart was currently trying to escape your ribs.
"hm, if you say so," he amusedly replied, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he leaned in just a fraction closer, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. "but since you moved to the middle today, i figured i'd move too. the view is better here anyway."
the professor finally walked into the room, clapping his hands to start the lecture, but your brain had already completely short-circuited.
the view is better here anyway.
you didn't say it out loud, but you completely, wholeheartedly agreed.
the view from the middle of the room really was so much better, especially when it included the sharp line of his jawline and the soft way his hair fell over his forehead as he looked back down at his laptop screen. you couldn't help the small, satisfied smile that tugged at your lips. you had originally just wanted to see the lesson clearly, but sitting right next to yang jungwon was an undeniable upgrade.
as the professor finally walked in and the slides changed to color wheel harmonies, you leaned back in your chair, feeling a warm, victorious rush of giddiness settling deep in your chest.
throughout the whole lecture, jungwon noticed how you were having a hard time catching up with the professor’s fast pacing. without a word, he simply slid his notebook toward the center of the desk, his clean, neat handwriting perfectly capturing everything you had missed.
you blinked, giving him a questioning look that clearly said, what about you?
he just leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he murmured, “it’s okay. i have photographic memory anyway.”
a quiet laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, though you quickly clamped a hand over your mouth so the rest of the lecture hall wouldn't hear.
and when class ended, one of your elective mates came to jungwon and thanked him for lending him his notes from last week’s session.
you froze, your fingers tightening around your pen. a cold splash of reality hit you right in the face. you had almost fallen for it. you had almost convinced yourself jungwon only did that gesture for you.
but he was just like that with everyone else.
***
dear y/n,
sometimes, it would be easier to just pull back completely and build your walls so high that no dimpled smile can reach you. it is easy to tell yourself to keep your distance when you think you are just another face in his crowded room. you can convince your mind that his kindness is a warning sign, a trap designed to make you stumble.
but what are you supposed to do when the universe refuses to cooperate with your defenses? how do you run away when every detour somehow leads you straight back into his path? it feels like the world is intentionally shrinking, forcing your orbits to cross whether you are ready for it or not.
if every sudden encounter keeps pushing you closer, maybe the real danger isn't his casual charm. maybe the real hazard is how badly you want to stop running. you are standing on the edge of the hazard zone, and you are starting to realize you don't want to step back.
but the universe, it seemed, hadn't gotten the memo.
"y/n, thank goodness you're here early," the head stylist breathed, rushing past you with an armful of garment bags the moment you stepped into the studio. "the model for the second layout just called in sick, and the concept director is losing her mind. since you have the closest features to our model, could you maybe stand in for her today? don’t worry, i won’t make you add extra work. just be a model for today.”
your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around the strap of your makeup kit. "me? a model?"
"yes, please! the lighting is already set up for your skin profile anyway," she pleaded, gently nudging you toward the center of the dark studio before rushing off to coordinate with the wardrobe team.
even though you were nervous, you felt flattered by the sudden shift from being the one holding the brushes to being the one everyone was rushing to get ready.
seconds later, you were pressed into the leather chair, staring at your own reflection framed by bright, blinding vanity bulbs. as the senior makeup artist began sweeping a fluffy brush across your cheekbones, your eyes instinctively drifted to the mirror's reflection, scanning the dark background of the studio.
there he was.
jungwon was standing by the equipment table, a light meter slung around his neck as he manually adjusted a camera lens. but as you watched him through the glass, his hands suddenly slowed down. without turning his head, his gaze quietly shifted upward, his dark eyes locking onto your reflection in the mirror.
your heart did a violent, dangerous skip. for a split second, you were entirely breathless, caught in a silent, cross-room stare through a sheet of glass.
but then, jungwon blinked, casually turning away to say something to a lighting crew member as if nothing had happened.
you quickly looked down at your lap, your cheeks burning under the heavy layer of setting powder. you're tripping, you firmly told yourself, your fingers gripping the fabric of your skirt. you are completely hallucinating. he was a photographer; he was probably just looking at the vanity lights or checking the ambient glare in the room. he wasn't looking at you. he couldn't be.
"all done, sweetheart! step onto the backdrop for me," the artist said, giving your shoulder a reassuring pat.
your feet felt heavy, practically glued to the floorboards as you finally stepped onto the seamless backdrop. the harsh studio lights cut through the shadows, illuminating the space and making you feel incredibly exposed.
at the center of the set, jungwon was now waiting by the tripod. when you took your place, he slowly lowered the camera body from his face. the casual, easygoing expression he always wore vanished. he didn't smile, and he didn't drop a playful comment like he did in the classroom. he just stared, his dark eyes tracking you with that exact same quiet, unreadable intensity you thought you had imagined in the mirror.
you fixed your posture, forcing your face into a neutral, professional mask. you had to remember the lesson from yesterday. you weren't special.
“whenever you're ready, jungwon,” director kang said, her voice sharp but steady as she reviewed the digital monitor from the sidelines.
jungwon blinked, the director's voice hitting him like a sudden splash of cold water, snapping him out of his trance. his jaw tightened slightly as he quickly looked away from you, slowly raising the camera back to his eye to hide his face behind the lens.
"right," his voice came out a little rougher than usual, echoing slightly in the quiet studio. "let's... let's start with the profile shots. look slightly to the left, please."
you did as he asked, turning your chin toward the shadows and focusing your eyes on a random spot on the studio wall. at first, your limbs felt stiff, every muscle in your neck tight with the lingering anxiety of being just a temporary replacement. you were acutely aware of the lens pointed at you, and even more aware of the boy behind it.
click.
the flash illuminated the dark studio for a microsecond.
"good," jungwon’s voice drifted over from the tripod, lower now, carrying a calm, steady rhythm that instantly cut through your panic. "just like that. now drop your shoulders a bit, y/n. take a deep breath in... and let it out."
you followed his voice, exhaling slowly. as your shoulders relaxed, something shifted inside you. you looked down at the structured, high-fashion wardrobe they had styled you in, felt the perfect weight of the makeup on your skin, and realized something liberating: you weren't a mistake or a technical hitch. you were a cosmetology student who understood exactly how angles, textures, and lighting worked. you knew your face. you knew your undertones.
and suddenly, you didn't feel like a hiding substitute anymore. you felt powerful.
"perfect. keep that exact expression," jungwon murmured. click. "tilt your head up just a fraction. let the key light hit the high points of your cheekbones."
his guidance was effortless. he wasn't treating you like a standard, disposable model, nor was he acting like the casual classmate who shared notes. behind the camera, yang jungwon was a complete professional. he gave commands with a quiet, grounding confidence that made you feel completely safe to move, to experiment, to own the space under the lights.
click. click.
"bring your hands up toward your collarbone," he instructed softly, the lens tracking your movements. "soft fingers. look right into the lens this time."
you didn't hesitate. you turned your head back toward the center, lifting your chin, and looked directly down the barrel of his camera lens. you locked eyes with him through the glass, no longer trying to hide behind a neutral mask. you let your confidence show—letting him see that you were completely present, commanding the set just as much as he was.
from behind the camera, you heard the faint, sharp intake of jungwon's breath. but the camera didn't stutter.
"beautiful," he whispered, the word carrying a raw, genuine weight that sent a different kind of thrill straight down your spine. click. "stay right there. don't move."
beautiful.
he just said it so casually, so effortlessly, but the word felt entirely too heavy as it hung in the space between you. he didn't lower the lens, keeping his gaze locked onto yours through the camera glass as if he were trying to capture something far deeper than just a standard lighting test.
"and... cut!" director kang's voice suddenly cut through the air, breaking the spell. "excellent work, everyone. let's check the monitor."
the blinding studio lights dimmed slightly as the crew immediately swarmed around the main digital display. you stepped off the seamless backdrop, your knees feeling a little weak now that the adrenaline was fading. you tentatively walked over to the edge of the crowd, peeking over a stylist's shoulder to look at the screen.
a small gasp escaped your lips. the images looking back at you didn't look like a nervous, last-minute substitute at all. the lighting caught the crisp edges of your jawline, the makeup looked flawless under the exposure, and your eyes held a sharp, captivating confidence.
"wow, y/n, look at your facial symmetry," one of the senior stylists praised, clapping her hands together. "the textures are so clean. you look incredible!"
"honestly, you saved us today," director kang agreed, nodding dynamic approval as she scrolled through the burst shots. "the mood is exactly what we needed for the editorial pitch. you're a natural."
your chest swelled with a warm, triumphant rush of pride. all your hours studying skin prep and facial angles had paid off, and hearing the professional crew validate your work made you feel completely on top of the world.
"i'm completely satisfied with how these turned out," a quiet, familiar voice spoke up from behind you.
you turned around to find jungwon standing there, his camera now resting against his hip. he wasn't looking at the monitor anymore; his dark eyes were fixed directly on you, a soft, genuine smile touching his lips.
"the lighting and the textures hit perfectly," he added, his voice low and private amidst the loud chatter of the crew. "i'm really glad y/n stepped in today."
your heart gave a violent, unruly thud against your ribs.
the crew was still talking loudly around you, debating layout designs and background colors, but your selective hearing had already locked the world out. i'm really glad y/n stepped in today. his words replayed in a dizzying loop, sweet and terrifyingly sincere.
he might have sounded like a good coworker but as you looked at the faint trace of his dimples, you knew your defenses were in serious trouble.
after changing your outfit from the shoot, you stopped in your tracks when you saw jungwon clearing up the equipment by himself. the heavy studio lights were mostly shut off, leaving only the dim, warm overheads casting long shadows across the empty room. he looked completely different now. his jacket discarded, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to his elbows as he reached up to untighten a massive softbox modifier from its stand.
you hesitated for a fraction of a second before setting your tote bag down on a nearby stool. you walked over, your sneakers squeaking quietly against the concrete floor.
"need a hand?" you asked, reaching out to stabilize the heavy metal base of the C-stand before it could tilt forward.
jungwon blinked, looking down at you from his height. a look of surprise crossed his face, followed quickly by that familiar, easy smile. "oh, y/n. you're still here? it's okay, i've got it. you should head home, it's getting late."
"i want to help," you replied, your voice steady despite the quiet thumping in your chest. you didn't let go of the metal stand. "besides, you're the one who did all the heavy lifting during the shoot. consider it payback for the notes."
jungwon let out a soft, breathy chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "alright. if you insist."
for the next twenty minutes, the studio was quiet except for the rustle of velcro, the clinking of metal stands, and the low, easy hum of casual conversation. you helped him coil the heavy black extension cords while he carefully packed his camera body and lenses into his padded backpack. without the pressure of the crew or the blinding lights, the stiff walls you had painstakingly built after yesterday's lecture began to feel entirely useless.
"all set," jungwon finally said, zipping his bag closed and swinging it over one shoulder. he turned off the remaining studio switch, plunging the room into darkness except for the green exit light by the door. "let's go?"
you nodded, walking out into the cool evening air together.
the walk to the transit station was surprisingly peaceful. the streets of the city were buzzing with the usual nighttime traffic, but between the two of you, there was a comfortable, easy rhythm. you talked about the concept director’s hectic energy, your favorite color theories, and how relieving it was to finally finish a long week of classes.
when you finally reached your stop, you turned to wave goodbye, but jungwon didn't stay on the platform. instead, he quietly stepped off the train right behind you.
"wait, jungwon," you blinked, looking around the familiar street corner near your neighborhood. "your place isn't around here, is it?"
jungwon adjusted the strap of his heavy camera bag, looking down at you under the warm, amber glow of the streetlamp. his dimples showed faintly as he smiled, his hands slipping into his pockets.
"it's not," he admitted casually, his voice low and incredibly grounding in the quiet night. "but it's dark out, and you worked hard today. i wanted to make sure you got home safe."
your breath hitched, your fingers tightly gripping the straps of your tote bag.
there it was again. that dangerous, dizzying rush of kilig slammed right into your chest, loud enough to drown out the distant hum of the evening traffic. i wanted to make sure you got home safe. the words hung in the space between you, illuminated by the warm, amber glow of the streetlamp.
for a terrifying second, you wanted to believe it. you wanted to believe that this detour, this long train ride out of his way, was for you.
but then the memory of the classroom flashed behind your eyes—the classmate thanking him for the notes, the realization that yang jungwon was just effortlessly, universally good. of course he was walking you home. you had stayed late to help him lift heavy equipment; he probably just felt standard, polite responsibility as a coworker to make sure you didn't walk the dark streets alone. he would have done the exact same thing for director kang, or the senior stylist, or anyone else.
he was just being a good guy. that was all.
"you really didn't have to, jungwon," you said, forcing a small, polite smile to your face as you stepped backward toward your gate, desperately trying to keep the distance between you. "but... thank you. for the walk. and for today."
jungwon didn't move, his hands still tucked into his pockets as he watched you step away. the easy smile on his lips faded into something quiet and slightly intense, his eyes tracking your defensive posture with an unreadable look.
"anytime, y/n," he murmured softly. "get some rest."
your breath hitched, your fingers tightly gripping the straps of your tote bag.
there it was again. that dangerous, dizzying rush of warmth slammed right into your chest, a sudden flutter so loud it threatened to drown out the distant hum of the evening traffic. i wanted to make sure you got home safe. the words hung in the space between you, illuminated by the warm, amber glow of the streetlamp.
for a terrifying second, you wanted to believe it. you wanted to believe that this detour, this long train ride out of his way, was for you.
but then the memory of the classroom flashed behind your eyes. the classmate thanking him for the notes, the realization that yang jungwon was just effortlessly, universally good. of course he was walking you home. you had stayed late to help him lift heavy equipment; he probably just felt standard, polite responsibility as a coworker to make sure you didn't walk the dark streets alone. he would have done the exact same thing for director kang, or the senior stylist, or anyone else.
he was just being a good guy. that was all.
"you really didn't have to, jungwon," you said, forcing a small, polite smile to your face as you stepped backward toward your gate, desperately trying to keep the distance between you. "but... thank you. for the walk. and for today."
jungwon didn't move, his hands still tucked into his pockets as he watched you step away. the easy smile on his lips faded into something quiet and slightly intense, his eyes tracking your defensive posture with an unreadable look.
"anytime, y/n," he murmured softly. "get some rest."
“thank you, jungwon.” you gave him one last polite nod, turning around to finally press the unlock button on your gate. your hands were shaking slightly, and you were desperate to get inside the safety of your house before your face completely gave you away.
“y/n?”
his voice called out, stopping you right in your tracks. your fingers froze against the cold iron of the latch. you took a quiet, steadying breath before slowly looking back over your shoulder.
“yes?”
jungwon was still standing under the amber streetlamp, his hands deeply embedded in his jacket pockets. he tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that completely bypassed your professional walls. the softest, most genuine trace of a smile appeared on his lips, causing his dimples to faintly show in the shadows.
“you looked pretty today.”
***
dear y/n,
sometimes, the universe doesn’t just nudge you; it completely corners you. you try to write off his kindness as a collective luxury, a universal trait he hands out to anyone who asks, because believing you are special is a luxury you simply cannot afford. but how do you categorize a quiet detour under an amber streetlamp? how do you rationalize a parting line that wasn't meant for a coworker, a classmate, or a crowd, but uniquely, devastatingly, for you?
you couldn’t reply.
the moment the word left his lips, your brain completely short-circuited, leaving you entirely breathless under the dim streetlamp. you practically threw yourself through the gate, shutting the iron latch behind you with a loud, metallic clang that echoed through the quiet neighborhood. your heart was hammering violently against your ribs as you sprinted up the steps, not daring to look back to see if he was still standing there watching you run.
it was only when you were locked safely inside the dark sanctuary of your bedroom that you finally collapsed against the mattress, pulling a pillow over your face to smother a helpless, frustrated groan.
you looked pretty today.
the phrase replayed in a dizzying, echoing loop, vibrating straight down to your fingertips. you tightly closed your eyes, desperately trying to summon the cold reality check from the lecture hall. he is just nice. he is just a naturally attentive guy who knows how to make people feel comfortable on a set.
but as you turned over and stared at the dark ceiling, your fingers tracing the edges of your blanket, a quiet, terrifying truth settled in your chest. no matter how high you built your walls, yang jungwon didn't even have to try and scale them.
he was effortlessly dismantling them, brick by single brick, and you were completely running out of places to hide.
the next morning brought a blinding, unapologetic sunlight that did absolutely nothing to clear the fog in your head. you woke up with your limbs tangled in your sheets, your phone still clutched tightly in your palm as if you had been guarding it in your sleep.
when you dragged yourself out of bed and walked over to the bathroom sink, you actively avoided looking at your reflection for the first five minutes. you splashed ice-cold water onto your face, hoping the shock of it would finally scrub the lingering warmth out of your cheeks and snap you back into reality.
it was just studio adrenaline, you reasoned with yourself, aggressively rubbing a fluffy towel against your skin. people say fleeting things when they’re tired after a long shoot. he was probably just riding the high of a successful layout.
but the moment you sat down at your vanity to start your morning skincare routine, your hands froze.
you picked up your daily moisturizer, but your eyes involuntarily drifted to your own reflection in the glass. suddenly, you weren't looking at your bedroom walls anymore. you were seeing the dark studio mirror. you were seeing the way his dark eyes had pierced right through the reflection, tracking your every move while the makeup brush swept across your skin.
you looked down at your hands, your chest tightening. your fingertips automatically brushed against your collarbone, tracing the exact spot where he had told you to place your hands.
"beautiful," his whispered voice echoed in your ears, so clear it made you flinch.
you let out a shaky breath, forcing your hands down into your lap. it was terrifying how a single night could completely alter the space around you. your bedroom, your vanity, your own face—everything felt entirely compromised by him. you couldn't even apply your makeup without wondering if your features really did look the way he implied.
unable to handle the loud silence of your thoughts, you decided to escape your room. you spent the rest of the morning trying to drown out his voice with mundane tasks—cleaning your desk, organizing your elective binders, and making a mental checklist of your upcoming assignments.
by saturday afternoon, your eyes were heavy from lack of sleep, your mind completely exhausted from the non-stop mental gymnastics. you had finally managed to calm your heart rate down, sitting at your desk and staring blankly at a textbook.
ding.
the sharp vibration of your phone against the wooden desk made you flinch.
your hands shook slightly as you picked it up, your breath instantly catching when you saw his name illuminated on the lock screen.
jungwon: [1 file attached]
jungwon: finished compiling the raw layouts for director kang. thought i’d send you your edit first.
you swallowed hard, your thumb hovering over the glass. you tapped the file, waiting a few agonizing seconds for the high-resolution image to clear.
when the details finally rendered, the air left your lungs completely.
it wasn’t just a well-shot photo. he hadn't used the sharp, cool commercial lighting the director usually preferred for editorial pitches. instead, the coloring was incredibly soft, almost romantic, warming up your skin profile in a way that made you look like you were glowing from the inside out.
but it was the lighting on your eyes that made your chest completely constrict. he had meticulously adjusted the shadows so that the tiny, glittering reflection of the studio lights caught the exact center of your pupils. your gaze looked impossibly deep, intense, and vulnerable.
he had spent hours looking at your face in high-definition. he had zoomed in on your features, balanced your undertones, cleaned up the lines, and perfected the exposure.
you stared at the screen, your heart racing. a normal photographer would have just dropped the files into the shared studio google drive or handed them over on monday. but yang jungwon had edited yours personally, isolated it from the rest of the layout, and sent it directly to your private inbox on a saturday afternoon.
you slowly leaned back against your chair, the cold wood pressing into your spine as you stared at the beautiful, terrifying image of yourself.
you could try to convince yourself that he was just a gentleman under the streetlamp. you could pretend he was just being polite when he called you pretty. but looking at this photo, you realized something that terrified you to your core: through the lens of his camera, yang jungwon looked at you like you were the only thing on the set that mattered.
your phone buzzed again in your palm, making you jump.
jungwon: do you like them?
y/n: i love them, jungwon! you did an amazing job with the lighting and the textures. it doesn't even look like me.
jungwon: it looks exactly like you. i just captured what was already there.
your phone slipped an inch in your hand. you squeezed your eyes shut, a soft, helpless groan escaping your lips as you buried your face in your arms on the desk.
he was doing it again. he was effortlessly throwing lines that completely bypassed your defenses, speaking with a terrifying sincerity that left you absolutely no room to hide.
a week later, director kang officially approved the editorial pitch, and the official shoot layouts were finally uploaded to the department's public portfolio. you felt a quiet sense of relief, thinking the excitement from that chaotic friday had finally settled down.
until later that evening, when your phone notification panel lit up with a tag.
yang_jw tagged you in a post.
your thumb practically smashed against the screen to open the app.
it was a carousel post titled simply: bts 📸
the first slide was a moody shot of an overhead key light piercing through the dark studio. the second was a close-up of a heavy black camera cable coiled neatly over a metal stand. the third was the empty grey seamless backdrop.
and then, you swiped to the fourth slide.
the breath caught in your throat.
it was you.
it wasn’t one of the polished, perfectly posed files he had sent to director kang. it was a candid, behind-the-scenes frame captured right in the middle of the shoot. you were sitting in the leather vanity chair, the bright, blinding bulbs framing your silhouette, your chin turned slightly over your shoulder. your expression wasn't a professional mask; it was soft, slightly dazed, caught in the exact microsecond you had instinctively looked into the mirror to search for his reflection in the dark background.
he had captured the exact moment you were looking for him.
you swiped to the fifth and sixth slides: more inanimate props, a discarded lens cap, the digital monitor from a distance.
you swiped back to the fourth slide, your heart hammering against your ribs so violently it felt loud in the quiet of your room.
you stared at the screen, your eyes tracing the soft edge of your own silhouette under the bright vanity bulbs. anyone else scrolling through his feed would just see a cool, atmospheric behind-the-scenes shot of a makeup student on set. they wouldn't notice the way the light caught the exact, vulnerable curve of your shoulder. they wouldn't know that the slight daze in your eyes was because you had been looking for him in the dark studio mirrors.
but you knew. and more terrifyingly, jungwon knew too.
your thumb hovered over the screen, paralyzed by the sheer weight of what this meant. you could rationalize notes. you could rationalize a long walk home in the dark as standard gentlemanly politeness. you could even convince yourself that a personal photo edit was just him being a meticulous, dedicated photographer.
but this? breaking his own years-long aesthetic grid just to drop a candid frame of your face into the world?
there were no olympic-level mental gymnastics left to save you. you couldn't hide behind the "good classmate" excuse anymore.
with a trembling thumb, you tapped the little heart icon below the post, watching it turn red.
almost instantly, a new notification slid down from the top of your screen, making you gasp softly in the quiet room.
yang_jw: you're awake?
shit, shit, shit!
you scrambled backward against your headboard, nearly dropping the device straight onto your face. you had liked the post less than thirty seconds after he uploaded it. there was absolutely no playing the "i just happened to see it on my feed" card—you were actively lurking, and your lightning-fast double-tap had completely exposed you.
your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, typing and deleting three different responses while your chest squeezed with a frantic, dizzying heat.
y/n: yeah, just finishing up some reading.
you pressed send, holding your breath as the single gray checkmark turned blue. almost immediately, the three typing dots appeared.
yang_jw: reading? at 1 AM?
yang_jw: or were you just waiting for my post?
you let out a helpless, strangled sound into the empty space of your bedroom, burying your burning face straight into your pillows. he was shameless. he was entirely, utterly shameless, and the worst part was that he was exactly right.
before you could even think of a defensive lie to protect your dignity, your phone buzzed again in your palm.
yang_jw: do you like the fourth slide?
your breath hitched. he wasn't dancing around it. he knew exactly what he did when he put that candid photo of you in the middle of his grid, and he was deliberately forcing you to acknowledge it.
you sat up, biting your lower lip until it turned white. you couldn't keep running. if he was going to be this bold, you had to find a way to stabilize your own footing before you completely dissolved under his pace.
y/n: the lighting was nice. but i thought your feed was strictly landscapes.
you stared at the screen, your heart hammering a chaotic rhythm against your ribs as you waited. seconds ticked by like hours until the screen lit up with his reply.
yang_jw: you keep tabs on my feed?
shit.
but before you could even think of a lie to salvage yourself, the next bubble popped up.
yang_jw: but yes, it is.
yang_jw: but you looked too pretty in that mirror to leave you in a hidden folder.
you completely froze in your spot.
the air left your lungs, leaving you staring blankly at the glowing screen as the world around you fell entirely silent. you couldn't move. you couldn't blink. your fingers remained locked stiffly around the edges of your phone, your eyes glued to the word pretty.
when you finally found the strength to move, it was only to let out a shaky, breathless exhale. then you rolled onto your bed, your stomach flat on the mattress, and let out a muffled scream into your pillow.
***
dear, y/n,
it is a completely strange but nice feeling to realize you aren't trying to pull away anymore. you are slowly getting used to the feeling again, realizing it's okay to just let someone in without making everything so complicated.
you find yourself looking forward to see and hear from him again, no longer finding the shield to protect your composure.
the next morning arrived. you walked onto campus with a lighter step, the lingering echo of jungwon’s late-night words crawling in your mind like he planned to occupy every single corner of your head.
you spotted him almost immediately near the entrance of the lecture hall, leaning against the hallway wall with his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he chatted with a few classmates. the exact moment you stepped into view, his eyes instinctively separated from the crowd, tracking your approach with that same soft, unwavering focus that had defined the studio mirrors.
as you drew closer, the conversation around him seemed to fade into a quiet blur, leaving just the steady ground between the two of you.
"morning, y/n," jungwon murmured, his voice dropping into a softer, private register meant only for you as a genuine, dimpled smile broke across his face.
your heart gave a familiar, dangerous thump, but instead of panicking, you found yourself returning his smile. "morning, jungwon."
he stepped away from the wall, naturally falling into step right beside you as you walked through the threshold of the lecture hall. the sudden shift from the chaotic, noisy hallway to the relative quiet of the classroom felt seamless with him next to you. without even asking, he guided you toward the middle row, pulling out the chair right next to the one where his laptop and notebook were already neatly set up.
he had saved you a seat.
"you look awake for someone who was reading at 1 AM," he teased quietly, sliding into his chair and leaning his chin in his hand as he looked over at you, his eyes glinting with a familiar, playful mischief.
you felt a sudden rush of warmth in your cheeks, but you managed to look right back at him. "i told you, i had things to finish."
"right," he hummed, the corners of his lips twitching as the professor walked up to the podium and the lecture hall began to quiet down. jungwon opened his notebook, but before he focused on the board, he leaned in just a fraction closer, his voice a low, comforting murmur against the background noise of opening laptops. "we're getting dinner after this, by the way. i found a really good place nearby."
it wasn't even a question. it was an inivitation that you would spend your evening with him, and the terrifying part was that you didn't even want to object.
by the time the late-afternoon elective finally wrapped up, the sun was already dipping below the horizon, casting long, amber shadows across the campus pathways. you followed jungwon through the bustling streets just outside the university gates, the humid evening air a stark contrast to the air-conditioned lecture hall.
he led you down a quieter alley, stopping in front of a small, cozy restaurant with warm, low-hanging yellow lights glowing behind a tinted glass pane. inside, the space was small and intimate, filled with the soft chatter of other students and the rich, savory aroma of hot food.
"two?" the server asked, and jungwon nodded, naturally guiding you toward a booth tucked away in the back corner, away from the main walkway.
as you slipped into the leather seat, the soft ambient lighting washed over his features, throwing the sharp angles of his jawline and the deep set of his eyes into beautiful, soft relief. it felt completely different from the high-stakes pressure of the studio or the crowded campus. here, stripped of cameras and portfolios, it was just the two of you.
"order whatever you want," jungwon said, sliding the menu across the dark wooden table toward you, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting second that left a trail of static on your skin. "my treat today. to celebrate your successful photoshoot."
you looked up from the menu, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "you give me too much credit. you did good too, you know."
jungwon let out a low, amused huff, leaning back against the leather booth as he looked at you through the warm, dim lighting of the restaurant. "is that so? i guess we make a pretty good team then."
your cheeks burned, “i guess we do.”
and as the weeks bled into a comfortable rhythm, you realized you really did.
that quiet dinner quickly transformed from a one-time celebration into a regular part of your routine. it happened so gradually that you didn't even notice the shift at first. one day you were just elective mates, then interns working on a shoot, and the next, he was naturally weaving you into every single part of his day, making it easy for you to navigate the lively, chaotic orbit of his massive social circle.
because jungwon was the type of guy who belonged to everyone, hanging out with him meant automatically being pulled into his circle. you became a familiar face at the crowded university cafeteria tables, sharing loud, overlapping conversations with his friends who welcomed you without a single second of hesitation. you watched him handle the campus attention with an easy, effortless charm, throwing bright smiles to passing students and keeping everyone laughing.
but the real magic always happened when the noise of the crowd finally thinned out. no matter how many people were vying for his attention during the day, the late evenings always distilled down to just the two of you, sitting across from each other at that same dark wooden table under the warm, low-hanging yellow lights.
"you're staring," jungwon murmured one rainy tuesday evening, a soft, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he set his chopsticks down.
you blinked, tearing your gaze away from the sharp line of his jaw to look down at your half-empty bowl. "i am not. i was just thinking."
"about what?" he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, closing the physical distance between you just enough to make the ambient chatter of the restaurant fade into the background.
"just... how you manage to keep up with everyone," you admitted honestly, gesturing vaguely toward the window where a group of students from his department had just waved at him through the glass. "you're always surrounded by people."
jungwon looked out the window for a brief second, then turned his focus back to you, his dark eyes softening into that intense, private expression he only ever used when the two of you were alone. "it's easy to talk to everyone, y/n. but that doesn't mean i want to spend my quiet hours with just anyone."
before you could even process the sudden, breathless skip of your heart, a confident, unfamiliar voice interrupted the space between you.
"hey, jungwon, right? i thought that was you."
you blinked, turning your head toward the edge of the booth. yoonchae from your class was standing there, looking effortlessly chic in a cropped leather jacket, a bright, confident smile fixed entirely on jungwon. she didn't even glance your way, completely erasing your presence from the table.
"i saw your latest photography feature on the department page," she continued smoothly, leaning slightly against the wooden partition of your booth. "it was amazing. i was actually wondering if you had time to collaborate on a editorial project next month? can i get your instagram or phone number?"
your chest tightened instantly. your mind, always looking for a reason to retreat, immediately clouded over with that familiar, suffocating insecurity. here it is, a bitter voice whispered in your head. this is his actual world. this girl was confident, stylish, and fit perfectly into the creative orbit he ran in. you were just the girl he casually helped out, the lesson he learned along the way to becoming a better photographer. you were a placeholder in his quiet hours until someone who actually belonged in his grid stepped up.
you lowered your eyes to your lap, your fingers gripping the fabric of your skirt as you prepared for him to give his usual, friendly campus smile and type his number into her phone.
"sorry, i can't," jungwon said.
his voice wasn't just polite; it was incredibly flat, completely stripped of the warm, universal charm he usually gave out so freely.
the girl blinked, caught off guard. "oh? are you too busy with the elective portfolio?"
jungwon didn't hesitate for a single second. he casually shifted in his seat, his hand moving across the table until his knuckles lightly brushed against your arm, drawing a firm, undeniable boundary in front of the stranger.
"no," jungwon said softly, his eyes dropping to you for a brief, reassuring second before he looked back up at the girl. "my girlfriend is right here. i don't take private project numbers."
your lungs completely locked up.
for a single, terrifying second, your heart fluttered so violently against your ribs it felt deafening. girlfriend. hearing the word leave his lips, spoken with such heavy, calm authority in his low voice, sent a sudden, dizzying rush of heat straight to your face.
but almost as fast as the thrill arrived, the cold weight of reality crashed right back down, pulling the warmth straight out of your chest.
yoonchae mumbled a quick, embarrassed apology and quickly retreated, but your mind had already clouded over, spiraling back into that familiar, suffocating insecurity.
you were just a prop.
the thought settled heavy and bitter in your stomach. because a guy like yang jungwon: a universally loved, constantly surrounded by people, and utterly effortless doesn't do serious relationships. he didn't need to. he was just a naturally attentive, overly nice guy who treated everyone with a baseline level of casual intimacy. he was smooth because it was his default setting, not because he was trying to win you over.
he didn't mean the word girlfriend. he had just used you as a convenient, safe shield to get out of an awkward conversation because he knew you wouldn't make a scene.
"sorry about that," jungwon murmured, turning his full attention back to you, his expression softening as if he hadn't just completely shattered your internal world. "she can be a bit persistent."
you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a small, tight smile to your lips as your walls slammed shut with a heavy, definitive thud.
"t-tell me about it," you said, forcing a small, hollow laugh as you poked at your food. "good strategy though. i make a pretty believable prop, don't i?"
you tried to look up and give him a funny, conspiratorial wink—anything to bury the suffocating weight crashing down on your chest. but your smile didn't reach your eyes, and your voice cracked just a fraction too much on the last word.
and jungwon, being the observant person he was, didn't laugh.
the easy, playful expression completely melted off his face, replaced by a quiet, piercing focus that made you want to look away. he slowly set his glass down on the table, his dark eyes tracking the slight tremor in your fingers before locking onto yours.
“you okay, y/n?” he asked softly, bending down to look at your eyes. but you quickly avoided him.
“y-yeah. just got something in my eye is all. listen, i still have some projects to finish so i need to go.”
“let me take you home–”
"no!" you quickly interrupted, scrambling to grab your bag. "i mean, wouldn't want to overstep." and just like that, you ran out of the restaurant before he could even reach for the bill.
what you didn’t know was jungwon felt his own chest tighten.
***
dear, y/n,
this is exactly why you should’ve kept your walls up.
it is a painful, heavy thing to realize how quickly you can fall back into the habit of building walls. you are slowly getting used to the feeling again, realizing that the only way to keep your heart safe from someone who belongs to the world is to completely remove yourself from the equation.
you tell yourself it’s safer to just be distant again. it’s way easier to pretend you don't care than to risk believing you actually matter to someone like him.
a week has passed since that day.
today, the morning arrived with a gray, overcast sky that seemed to match the cold numbness settling back into your chest. you walked onto campus with a heavy, deliberate step, your eyes strictly fixed on the concrete pathways to avoid scanning the crowds for a familiar shock of dark hair. you had your oversized jacket pulled tightly around you like armor, determined to slip back into the quiet anonymity of being just another student in the department.
you managed to avoid the main lecture hall entrance entirely, slipping through the side doors and taking a seat in the very last row, tucked far away from the middle rows where you had spent the last few weeks.
"y/n."
your fingers froze on the zipper of your bag at the sound of his voice.
jungwon was standing at the end of the row, looking completely exhausted. the usual easy, universal charm was entirely missing from his face, his dark eyes shadowed with a quiet, desperate intensity as he looked down at you. he didn't care that a few passing classmates were glancing over at his unusually tense posture; his focus was entirely locked onto you.
"you didn't answer my texts," he said softly, his voice dropping into that private register, though this time it sounded raw, carrying a heavy weight that made your chest ache. "i kept calling you."
you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing your expression to remain perfectly flat as you looked up at him, refusing to let him see how much you were hurting. "i told you, jungwon. i had projects to finish. you don't need to check up on me."
jungwon took a step closer into the row, his knuckles white as he gripped the back of the empty chair in front of you. "you’re not a prop. at the restaurant. i’m sorry i hurt you."
you looked down at your hands, refusing to meet his eyes because you knew your expression would crumble.
"it's fine, jungwon," you whispered, trying to force your voice to sound completely detached. "it was just a joke. you don't have to apologize for something petty."
"it wasn't a joke to me," he cut in, his voice dropping even lower, thick with a frustration you had never heard from him before. he slid into the empty seat right next to you, his presence suddenly overwhelming the small space in the back row. "i didn't say it just to make her leave, y/n. i said it because... because it didn't feel entirely like a lie to me."
your breath hitched, your eyes snapping up to look at him.
jungwon was leaning in close, his usual calm demeanor completely shattered. he looked vulnerable, almost fragile, his dark eyes searching your face for any sign of the warmth you used to give him so easily.
"there's actually someone i really like right now," he murmured, the confession slipping into the quiet space between you like a heavy secret. "and seeing her stand there, asking for my number...it just made me realize how much i only want to focus on one person."
he was looking at you with so much quiet intensity, his lips slightly parted as if he was waiting for you to understand, waiting for you to realize exactly who he was talking about.
but your brain, completely clouded by a week of suffocating insecurity, didn't see the love in his eyes. it only saw a devastating confirmation of your worst fear.
he likes someone else.
the words echoed like a physical blow inside your head. you were the practice run. the lesson.
"oh," you forced out, the word tasting like lead on your tongue. you managed to pull a tight, completely empty smile onto your face, even as your chest felt like it was physically breaking. "i... i didn't know. she's really lucky, jungwon. i hope it works out for you."
before he could even react to the sudden, freezing distance in your voice, you stood up, grabbing your bag and stepping past his frozen frame into the aisle, running away before the tears blinding your vision could finally fall.
“you.”
you didn't move. you couldn't breathe. for a second, you thought you were hallucinating.
slowly, you turned around.
jungwon was already standing up. his shoulders tense as he stared straight at you.
"it's you, y/n," he said, his voice cracking slightly on your name as he closed the small distance between you in two long steps, stopping just close enough that you could feel the sudden warmth radiating off him. "the girl i like. the only person i want to focus on. it's been you this entire time."
she would feel an absolute, dizzying rush of cognitive dissonance—like the ground had suddenly been pulled out from under her boots. after a whole week of meticulously convincing herself that she was completely invisible and just a temporary "lesson" in his life, his sudden confession completely short-circuits her brain.
her walls are still up, but they are cracking violently. she is caught between a desperate, fluttering spark of hope and the terrifying urge to protect herself from a cruel joke.
"it's you, y/n," he said, his voice cracking slightly on your name as he closed the small distance between you in two long steps, stopping just close enough that you could feel the sudden warmth radiating off him. "the girl i like. the only person i want to focus on. it's been you this entire time."
your brain completely short-circuited.
you stared at him, your chest heaving as you tried to find a catch, a punchline, anything to make reality align with your insecurities again. but jungwon’s face was completely raw, his lower lip slightly trembling as he waited for you to say something.
“w-what?” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as you took a small, panicked step back. “when? why?”
the questions tumbled out of you in a frantic, unpolished rush, stripping away all the cold, distant armor you had tried so hard to build.
"what do you mean why?" jungwon asked, a breathless, incredulous laugh escaping his lips as he took a step forward to close the gap you had just made. he reached out, his fingers gently captured your wrist, his thumb resting right over your racing pulse.
he let out a low, shaky exhale, his thumb moving in a slow, comforting circle against your skin, trying to ground you through your panic.
"i fell for you on our very first day as interns," he murmured, his dark eyes softening completely as he brought you back to the beginning. "remember that chaotic first shoot? everyone was running around, but i couldn't take my eyes off you. you were so shy, yet you were completely locked in. i loved how focused you were, how much heart you put into every single task. you were radiant, y/n. in a room full of people trying to stand out, you stood out to me just by being you."
he took a small step closer, his voice dropping into that intense, private register that belonged only to you.
"i did everything because i wanted an excuse to be near you," he whispered. "it's been you since that exact day. how could you think it was anyone else?"
“i was…i was never the one,” you whispered. “i was never the one that people think i’m worth staying for.”
jungwon let out a sharp, ragged breath, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to keep you anchored as your words physically pained him. the easy, polite campus favorite completely disappeared, replaced by a boy who looked entirely devastated that the girl he loved felt so invisible.
he didn't hesitate. he took that final step, closing the remaining distance between you until he was gently framing your face with his hands, his thumbs carefully wiping away the tears on your cheeks.
"i'm not going anywhere, y/n. i'm staying right here. with you."
***
dear, y/n,
it turns out that rewriting the script in your head is a slow, terrifying process.
for a long time, you were completely sure you were just the type of girl guys date before finding the one they actually want to settle down with. you really believed you were just a temporary phase. but now, jungwon is completely focused on you, and he isn't looking for anyone else.
you're still really anxious, though. every time your phone lights up, a part of you still expects him to text you saying he changed his mind or made a mistake. but he doesn't. instead, he just keeps showing up and proving you wrong.
nothing is official yet. you didn't suddenly become his girlfriend overnight. but even without a label, everything between you two feels completely different now.
on a tuesday morning, you didn't sit in the back row.
you had tried to, out of habit. your fingers pulling the strap of your oversized bag tight against your shoulder as you entered the side door. but jungwon was already there, sitting in the middle row right where you two used to be. the moment the door clicked, his head snapped up, his dark eyes instantly finding yours in the crowd.
he didn't wave or make a scene, but a small, private smile tugged at the corner of his lips. he casually lifted his laptop sleeve off the empty plastic chair beside him, claiming the space before anyone else could even think to take it.
your heart did that familiar, breathless flutter as you walked down the steps.
"hey," he murmured softly as you slid into the seat, his voice dropping into that private register that still made your face flush. he didn't slide his hand over yours or push your boundaries, but he reached into his jacket pocket and slid a small, familiar plastic bottle across the desk.
it was a fresh bottle of the exact soothing eye drops you always used when your eyes got tired from staring at editing screens.
"since you had something in your eye last week," jungwon said, his eyes crinkling slightly with a gentle, teasing warmth that completely lacked any judgment. "just in case."
you stared at the bottle, the lump in your throat returning, but this time it wasn't from sadness. "jungwon, you didn't have to—"
"i wanted to," he interrupted softly, leaning his elbow on the desk so he could look at you properly.
and then he did the one thing that always sent your heart into an absolute frenzy.
he leaned his elbow on the desk, tilting his head as he intentionally closed the distance between you. jungwon brought his face so close you could trace the sharp line of his jaw, the faint scent of his laundry detergent instantly filling your senses. his dark eyes locked onto yours, completely invading your personal space in that quiet, effortless way only he could pull off.
“j-jungwon?” you stammered, your voice coming out as a tiny, embarrassed squeak as you tried to press your back against the hard plastic of your chair to gain an inch of safety.
“mhm?” he murmured, not moving back even a fraction of a millimeter. instead, a tiny, knowing smirk began to pull at the corner of his lips, clearly enjoying how easily he could throw you off balance.
“y-you’re too close,” you whispered frantically, your hands gripping your desk as you looked around to see if anyone was watching. “mr. lee just entered the room.”
jungwon didn't panic. instead, his smirk widened just a fraction, his dark eyes brimming with amusement at your flustered reaction.
slowly, casually, he leaned back into his own space just as the professor set his briefcase on the podium. but right before he completely pulled away, jungwon leaned in one last inch, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper right against your ear.
"mr. lee can wait," he murmured, his tone dripping with a quiet, playful confidence. "but fine. i'll let you focus on the lecture. for now."
he straightened up in his seat, opening his notebook with perfect poise as if he hadn't just completely set your nerve endings on fire. but as he picked up his pen, he deliberately shifted his notebook just an inch closer to yours, his shoulder lightly brushing against your arm—a constant, warm reminder that he wasn't going anywhere.
now that you and jungwon are now aware of feelings towards each other, he has become flirtier each day. but with boundaries. he still asks if it’s okay to hold your hand, place his arm around your shoulder when walking, always checking in with a quiet, questioning look before stepping an inch closer into your space.
and every time he notices you second guessing if you want something, he takes the initiative of doing it. so in days that you do want to hold his hand but too shy to ask, he gently places his hand under yours and locks your fingers. and of course, it sent your heart into overdrive.
on friday afternoon, as the campus was emptying out, jungwon slung his backpack over one shoulder and leaned against the edge of your desk.
"a few of my seniors are holding a small wrap-up gallery in the department studio tonight," he said, tilting his head to catch your eyes. "then we’ll have an after party. just some music, drinks, and looking over the final print layouts. i want you to come with me."
your fingers paused on your notebook. the familiar, anxious tightening returned to your chest, your mind instantly telling you that you didn't belong in a room full of talented, confident upperclassmen who already knew him so well.
“is it alright?” you whispered, looking up at him uncertainty. “i don't want to intrude.”
jungwon’s expression softened instantly. he didn't laugh or dismiss your worry. instead, he stepped closer, blocking out the rest of the noisy hallway so it was just the two of you.
"you're not intruding, y/n," he said softly, his voice steady and completely serious as he reached down to gently tap the back of your hand. "i'm the one asking you. i want you to be there. with me."
then the night of the gallery came.
the studio was packed, filled with the low hum of indie music, the clinking of plastic cups, and the bright, warm glow of track lighting illuminating the rows of framed photographs along the walls. jungwon had been caught by a group of design seniors the moment you walked through the door. you had gently nudged his shoulder, giving him a small smile to let him know you didn't mind, before slipping away into the crowd to look around on your own.
the talent in the room was undeniable, but as you wandered down the final row of the exhibition, your steps slowed to a complete halt in front of a small, dedicated corner panel.
your breath caught in your throat.
the first frame was a candid shot from your very first day as interns. it was the chaotic studio set, cluttered with stray wires and half-assembled lighting rigs, but the camera hadn’t focused on the set. it was focused entirely on you. you sat on a crate with your face angled away, completely locked into adjusting a camera lens.
the second frame was the campus lecture hall taken from a low angle. it captured the stark, geometric lines of the plastic desks, but the focus was trained on the middle rows where you two always used to sit. a soft, natural light filtered through the gray windows, hitting the exact spot where his notebook usually brushed against yours.
and the final photograph made your heart do a sudden, breathless flip.
it was the outside of the restaurant from a week ago, taken through the glass window under a heavy, overcast sky. the frame captured the exact table where everything had boiled over, the blurry reflection of the street lights casting a quiet, moody atmosphere over the empty chairs.
the photos were the places you had been with him.
beneath the triptych of photos was a small, white card printed with a simple title:
paying attention.
"i didn't put your face on blast, i promise," a soft voice murmured right behind your ear.
you turned around to find jungwon right behind you, his hands in his pockets as he smiled down at you.
"i asked the professor if i could keep the subject anonymous on the final prints," he explained softly, stepping a little closer into your space. "i wanted to show you how i see you, but... is this okay? if it makes you uncomfortable, i can take them down right now. seriously."
"no," you whispered, a genuine smile finally breaking through the remnants of your anxiety. "don't take them down. they're... really beautiful."
without second guessing, you threw your arms around jungwon.
you felt a deep, grounding warmth expand in your chest—the realization that you were someone worth paying attention to.
after five hours, the after-party finally started. the room was alive with everyone cheering, laughing, and clinking their beer glasses together in celebration.
“congrats to us!” jungwon's senior, lee chan, toasted, raising his glass high into the air.
after taking a sip, chan’s eyes flicked over to you, a warm smile breaking across his face. "and thanks for coming, y/n! jungwon was practically talking about it for days.”
your face flushed a sudden crimson, your eyes darting over to jungwon.
jungwon just let out a soft laugh, completely unbothered by his senior exposing him. he casually slung an arm around your shoulder, bringing you securely into the circle. "ignore him," he murmured down to you, his thumb lightly rubbing against your arm. "but he's not entirely wrong."
“jungwon, hey!”
yoonchae was there again. you remembered that she was probably only around because her brother was in the same department as jungwon, a detail he had mentioned to you weeks ago.
“yoonchae, hi.”
“so, i heard from my brother that you and y/n aren't actually dating," she started, pulling her phone out of her bag and extending it toward him with a hopeful smile. "so… i was thinking if i can maybe, you know? come on, it's not like you're taken, right?”
“yoonchae, i've already told you before that i am interested in someone.” jungwon didn't hesitate for a single second. he reached down, deliberately capturing your hand and locking his fingers tightly with yours. “she's right here. dating or not, y/n is the only girl i like.”
yoonchae’s jaw dropped slightly. she stared at jungwon, entirely speechless at how effortlessly and publicly he had rejected her.
she looked at you, then back at jungwon. without uttering another syllable, she gave a stiff, embarrassed nod and quickly slipped away into the crowd.
the night continued with you and jungwon completely melting into the crowd. almost everyone couldn't help but tease him, laughing at how he looked like a total lovesick puppy and constantly joking about how he had finally found his muse.
eventually, the party wound down, and the two of you walked home together through the quiet streets. your hand was wrapped in his, his fingers locked firmly in yours.
“wasn't that too harsh?” you asked softly, breaking the silence as you looked down at your joined hands.
“not if she completely ignored your presence,” jungwon replied without a shred of regret, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction.
you bit your inner lip, your heart doing a small flutter as you built up the courage to ask the question that had been looping in your head. “but... were you serious? about what you said?”
jungwon looked down at you with a slow, knowing smirk. he knew exactly what you meant, but he wanted to hear you say it. “which part?”
your eyes grew wide, but you tried your absolute best to maintain your composure. “you know... the part where you said... you like me.” the last few words came out as a quiet mumble, your face burning.
“what's that?” he teased, tilting his head closer to yours. “didn't quite catch that.”
“jungwon,” you whined, pulling slightly on his hand.
“what? come on, say it clearly,” he laughed.
“jungwon!” you whined again, hiding your face slightly behind your free hand.
but then, the teasing look in his eyes began to shift. his laughter quieted down, replaced by a soft, intense focus that made the breath hitch in your throat. the ambient hum of the streetlights overhead suddenly felt incredibly loud as he stopped walking, causing you to pause right along with him.
“you are,” jungwon murmured, his voice dropping into a gentle, low register. he lifted your hand, his thumb softly tracing the knuckles before he let go of the tight grip to hold just your fingertips, his skin warm against yours. “i really like you, y/n.”
the sheer sincerity in his dark eyes stripped away all of your remaining defense mechanisms. the anxiety that usually kept you trapped in your own head completely evaporated, leaving only the honest, racing beat of your heart.
“i-i really like you too,” you whispered back, your voice small but steady.
jungwon took a slow step closer, completely closing the distance between you. his free hand came up, his fingers brushing light as a feather against your jawline before his thumb settled right at the corner of your cheekbone, tilting your face up just a fraction. he didn't rush. he just stood there for a breathless second, his gaze flicking down to your lips before locking back onto your wide eyes, waiting patiently for you to adjust to how close he was.
“can i kiss you?” he asked softly, his thumb giving your cheek a reassuring, tender stroke.
“please,” you whispered, the word leaving your lips like a breathless plea.
a soft smile broke across jungwon’s face at your response. he didn't wait another second. his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling into your hair as he leaned down and finally pressed his lips to yours, sweet and slow.
it made your heart do a dizzying, breathless flip. his lips were incredibly soft, parting slightly as he pulled you just a fraction closer against his chest. your fingers instinctively gripped the fabric of his jacket, your whole body melting into the touch as a warm, electric flutter rushed from your chest straight down to your toes.
as both of you pulled away from the kiss, jungwon let his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you back in for a quick, tight hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck for a second, letting out a soft hum of satisfaction that made your heart do another dizzying flip.
“does this mean we're… boyfriend and girlfriend?” you asked shyly, your fingers lightly gripping the fabric of his jacket.
jungwon let out a soft giggle against your skin, the vibration tickling your neck before he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes full of warmth. “yes. yes, i'd love that.”
***
dear y/n,
it is a beautiful thing indeed to be able to find someone. you are incredibly, genuinely happy, and your heart doesn't feel like it's constantly bracing for impact anymore.
but being with jungwon has also taught you that a real relationship isn't all cupcakes and rainbows. there are still days when your old insecurities and tendencies to overthink flare up out of nowhere, making you quiet and distant.
loving someone isn't a magical cure for anxiety. it doesn't fix the pieces of you that feel broken.
you and jungwon had a date today. it's been weeks since you have been girlfriend and boyfriend. and it was the happiest you've felt in a while.
a knock startled you out of your thoughts as you checked your outfit one more time. you had opted for a classic combination: a warm cream cardigan layered over a simple tee, paired with structured wide-leg trousers that made you feel completely put-together yet comfortable.
wonhee was grinning brightly at you, stepping right into the entryway the moment the door swung open. without a word, she reached forward to gently adjust the collar of your tee and smooth down the shoulder of your cream cardigan. "there. perfect. you look so effortlessly pretty today! are you ready for your date?”
“a bit nervous,” you admitted, feeling a sudden jolt of nervous electricity running through your system.
“hey,” wonhee placed her hand kn your shoulder, “you got this. and if jungwon doesn't see how incredibly lucky he is to have you, just let me know. i will personally make sure every single senior in his department knows he’s an absolute fool, and his pristine reputation will be completely ruined by tomorrow morning.”
“wonhee,” you taunt.
“i'm just saying.” wonhee giggled, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you toward the door. she gave you a playful nudge forward. "now stop stalling and go. he’s probably already waiting outside, and you shouldn't keep your boyfriend waiting."
boyfriend.
on cue, a knock came again, and this time, you answered it.
when the door swung open, jungwon was standing there, looking effortlessly handsome in a simple jacket. the moment his eyes landed on you, his breath hitched slightly, his gaze sweeping over your cream cardigan and wide-leg trousers with a look of pure, unadulterated admiration.
“hi,” you murmured, your heart doing a familiar flutter.
“hi,” he replied softly, a warm smile breaking across his face as if he couldn't help himself. “you look beautiful.”
“you ready?” he asked, his voice low and comforting.
you nodded your head, the last of your nervous jitters completely melting away. jungwon offered his arm, and you gladly looped yours through it, stepping out into the hallway as he gently pressed your arm closer to his side, making you feel completely secure before you even left the building.
jungwon takes you out to a beautiful, open-air city square where the evening breeze carries the distant chatter of people and the soft glow of fairy lights tangled in the trees. walking arm-in-arm, he effortlessly shields you from the busier walkways, pointing out little shops or laughing at the synchronized fountains, making the wide, bright world feel incredibly small and private just for the two of you.
you smiled, the warmth in your chest blooming beautifully. but as you stepped past a brightly lit clothing storefront, the air in your lungs suddenly turned to ice.
“jungwon, is that actually you?”
the soft, bright voice called out from the restaurant entrance. jungwon paused, turning his head, and you felt his entire posture straighten up in surprise. walking toward your table was a girl with an effortless, radiant smile and a polished grace that made the entire room feel a little brighter.
“minji!” jungwon’s face lit up with immediate, genuine recognition as he stood up to greet her. “wow, it’s been so long. what are you doing back here?”
“my family just moved back to the area,” she laughed, her voice carrying a familiar, easy warmth. jungwon immediately turned to you, his hand reaching for yours to introduce you.
“minji, this is y/n. my girlfriend.”
“omg, hi! finally, jungwon has gotten himself a girlfriend.”
she was completely lovely. she didn't do a single thing wrong. but as she chatted with jungwon for a few minutes about their old neighborhood before waving goodbye, a suffocating wave of anxiety washed over you.
she was stunning. her hair sat perfectly, her laugh was effortless, and she possessed a kind of glowing, unbothered confidence that you felt miles away from. sitting across from jungwon again, your cream cardigan suddenly felt suffocating, and your wide-leg trousers felt like a clumsy attempt at looking put-together. the food on your plate suddenly looked unappetizing as the old, familiar voice whispered that you were completely out of your league.
“y/n? hey, you’re getting quiet on me,” jungwon murmured softly, leaning across the table, his dark eyes full of immediate concern. “what’s going on in that head of yours?”
you stared down at your fingers, tracing the edge of the napkin to keep your voice steady. “she’s… really pretty, jungwon.”
“she’s an old friend,” he replied instantly, a gentle, reassuring smile breaking across his face. “i promise that's all.”
you swallowed past the lump in your throat, the overthinking brain refusing to let go of the bone. “did anything… ever happen between you two? back then?”
“no, never,” jungwon said easily, shaking his head. “we were just kids who grew up on the same block. we played video games and rode bikes. that was literally it.”
you looked up, your eyes searching his face, silent and unconvinced. jungwon sighed softly, a tiny, amused but fond smile tugging at his lips as he realized he couldn't hide anything from you. he reached across the table, covering your cold hand with his warm one.
“okay, fine,” he gave in gently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. “the only thing that ever happened was that our parents used to tease us. when we were around ten, our moms joked around a lot about how we’d probably end up getting married because we were inseparable. but it was just a silly parents' joke.”
he meant it as a reassuring confession to show how ridiculous the history was, but inside your chest, the words landed with a heavy, deafening thud.
married.
“baby,” jungwon murmured, his hands coming up to gently hold your fingers. he looked down at you, his eyes completely honest. “i'm sorry. i shouldn't have brought that up so carelessly. when we were kids, maybe there was a silly, innocent part of me that had a crush on her back then. but i swear to you, those feelings are completely gone. they've been gone for years.”
when you wouldn't look at him, your eyes still trained on the ground as you tried to process the heavy spiral in your chest, jungwon didn't get frustrated or tell you that you were overreacting.
instead, he patiently guided your cold hands up, cupping them securely against his warm cheeks and leaning his face into your soft touch. he tilted his head just enough so that you were forced to see the absolute sincerity in his gaze.
“our parents made jokes about the past, but i'm looking at my future right now,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your wrist, his heartbeat steady and grounding beneath your palms. “it's only you, y/n. it's always just been you.”
“how sure are you about that?”
“how sure are you about that?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your own mind. you hated how small you sounded, hated that even with his face leaning so trustingly into your hands, the ugly, loud voice of your anxiety was still trying to convince you that you were a second choice.
jungwon didn't blink. he didn't sigh in frustration, and he didn't let go of your hands. instead, he just closed his eyes for a brief second, absorbing the raw vulnerability of your question, before looking right back at you with a gaze so steady it felt like an anchor.
“because when i was ten, i didn't know what loving someone actually meant,” he said softly, his voice incredibly quiet but unshakeable. “i thought it was just sharing toys and living on the same block. but with you? i know exactly what it is.”
he kissed the palm of your right hand, his lips warm against your cold skin.
“i'm sure because when something good happens, you're the first person i want to call. i'm sure because even when you get quiet and distant like this, i don't want to be anywhere else in the world except right here, waiting it out with you. minji is a part of a childhood scrapbook, y/n. but you are my real life. you are my today, and you're the only one i want for tomorrow.”
you let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding, the heavy knot in your chest finally loosening under the steady, unshakeable warmth of his words. the ugly, loud whispers of your overthinking brain slowly faded into silence, replaced entirely by the sound of his heartbeat beneath your palms.
he was right. she was the past, but you were his right now.
“okay,” you whispered, a small, watery but genuine smile finally breaking across your lips. “i believe you.”
jungwon smiled back, a look of pure relief crossing his handsome face. he kissed the palm of your hand one more time before lowering your hands, locking his fingers tightly with yours as the two of you began walking down the glowing, tree-lined street once again. the anxiety hadn't completely vanished from your system—it rarely ever did—but with his side pressed warmly against yours, the world felt safe again.
but your worries did not disappear overnight.
months have passed since that evening of your first date, filled with shared laughter and a love that grew steadier with each passing day. jungwon had proven his words true over and over again, never letting you drift when the overthinking got too loud.
yet, the mind is a stubborn thing.
jungwon was and is serious about you. every small gesture, every patient reassurance when you got quiet, and every look he gave you proved that you weren't just a passing chapter in his life. so, he decided that it was finally time for his parents to meet you. he wanted you to meet the people who mattered most to him, completely missing the way your stomach instantly dropped in panic.
“my son!”
as soon as the door opened to jungwon’s condo, his mom gave him a tight hug, immediately stepping past him to look at you with a wide, welcoming smile. jungwon laughed softly, wrapping an arm around his mom's shoulders before gently pulling you into the space alongside them.
“mom, let me breathe first,” he teased gently, though his eyes were bright with happiness as he looked between the two of you.
“but i miss my baby!”
this was the first time you can genuinely see jungwon embarrassed, but it was adorable. his cheeks flushed a faint, endearing pink as he cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual cool composure while his dad just chuckled behind them, carrying a small box of side dishes into the kitchen.
all was going well. the conversation flowed effortlessly over the sound of clinking chopsticks and quiet laughter.
“you know, y/n, jungwon has been smiling so much more lately,” his mom mentioned softly, reaching over to squeeze your wrist. “whenever we call him on the weekends, he’s always in a good mood because he’s either on his way to see you or just got back from a date. you’ve been such a wonderful influence on him.”
“thank you, mrs. yang,” you murmured softly, using the title she had warmly insisted on earlier. you felt a genuine sense of relief wash over you.
but that relief was cut short when his father set down his glass, looking between the two of you with a reflective nod. “it’s just so interesting seeing jungwon with someone so quiet and gentle,” his father noted with a thoughtful, friendly smile. “you know, his mother and i always assumed he’d end up with someone loud and full of energy, like minji. they grew up together, so we were just so used to that specific dynamic. but it’s good that he’s learning to appreciate a different kind of presence now.”
learning to appreciate.
your stomach completely dropped. they weren't trying to be mean at all. it was just a casual comment. but hearing his dad say that made your worst fear feel real. to them, minji was the standard: the girl who naturally fit into his life.
suddenly, that creeping feeling was crawling back into your system and into your head.
this option focuses on him noticing y/n's discomfort right away and stepping in to protect her peace.
jungwon, who had been watching you the entire time, saw the exact moment your face went rigid. without a second thought, his hand reached under the table, finding your ice-cold fingers and squeezing them tightly.
“that was a completely different time, dad,” jungwon cut in smoothly, his voice calm but incredibly firm as he looked directly at his father. “who i was when i was ten years old doesn't matter. y/n is my present, and she’s exactly who i like.”
his mother’s eyes widened slightly at jungwon's serious tone, her expression shifting into immediate regret. she looked at you, her face full of genuine worry.
“oh, dear, i’m so sorry,” his mom said softly, reaching across the table to gently touch your arm. “your father didn't mean it that way at all. we are so happy you’re here with him.”
“yes, please forgive an old man's clumsy words, y/n,” his dad added quickly, looking incredibly apologetic. “i only meant that we are glad to see how happy and grounded jungwon is with you. we really didn't mean to compare you.”
you managed to nod politely, offering his parents a tight, small smile. “it’s okay, mrs. yang. mr. yang, really. don’t worry about it.”
you forced yourself to get through the rest of the dinner. you chewed your food without tasting it, laughed at the right moments, and politely helped clear the plates. you didn't storm out, but your anxiety made you want to disappear.
the second the front door clicked shut and his parents finally left, the fake smile dropped from your face. your breath hitched, and the hot tears you had been holding back for the last hour finally slipped down your cheeks.
jungwon turned around immediately, his face full of pain as he stepped toward you. “y/n, baby, hey—”
“jungwon, please,” you whispered, stepping back, your hands trembling as you wrapped them around yourself. you couldn't take his comfort right now. the ugly thoughts were too loud. “i just… i think i need to go home.”
“y/n, look at me. you heard what i told them. she’s not like that to me. why are you pushing me away?”
“because they look at me and they see a lesson!” your voice finally broke, a sharp, painful sob escaping your throat. “they look at me and see someone who is helping you grow up, jungwon. what if that’s all i am to you? what if i’m just the person you’re with until you’re ready to go back to someone like her?”
jungwon flinched as if you had physically struck him. a heavy, painful silence fell over the apartment. he took a slow breath, his dark eyes brimming with a mix of deep hurt and sheer frustration that he couldn't seem to break through the walls of your anxiety.
“is that really all you think of me?” he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerously quiet, raw whisper. “after all these months, you still think i’m just using you as a placeholder?”
he stepped forward, refusing to let you shrink away this time, his hands gently but firmly capturing your trembling wrists.
“i am not your ex, i’m not your fling, and i’m not jongseong, y/n,” he said, his voice shaking slightly with emotion as he looked directly into your tear-filled eyes. “i don't need a lesson, and i don't need to practice how to love someone. i love you. i chose you, and i am pouring everything i have into us. it hurts so bad that you’re letting a careless comment throw away everything we’ve built.”
you stared at him through a blur of hot tears, his grip on your wrists feeling less like an anchor and more like a trap you desperately needed to escape. you heard his words. he loves youand he isn't your ex. but the chaotic noise inside your head was just too loud. you were completely emotionally exhausted.
“jungwon, please,” you choked out, pulling your wrists back out of his hold. you couldn't look him in the eye, unable to bear the heavy hurt radiating from him. “i can’t… i can’t do this right now. i just really need to go home.”
jungwon stood perfectly still, his hands hanging empty in the space between you. he looked at your trembling shoulders, realizing that no matter what he said right now, your mind was miles away, trapped in a past he hadn't created.
he let out a long, heavy breath, his head dropping for a second before he looked back up at you with soft, tired eyes.
“okay,” he whispered quietly, his voice thick with unvoiced exhaustion. he didn't fight you, and he didn't force you to stay. instead, he reached for his car keys on the counter. “i’ll drive you.”
“no,” you said quickly, stepping back toward the door before he could even take a step toward you. “no, jungwon, please don't.”
jungwon froze, his fingers tightening around his car keys. “y/n, it’s late. i’m not letting you go out there alone like this.”
“i’ll book a ride. i just… if i get in the car with you right now, i feel like i won't be able to breathe,” you confessed, your voice dropping to a desperate, raw whisper. you hated hurting him, but the walls of the apartment already felt like they were crashing down on you. “i need to be completely alone. please.”
the word please seemed to deflate whatever fight jungwon had left in him. he looked at you, seeing the genuine panic in your eyes, and realized that forcing himself to accompany you would only make your spiral worse. it broke his heart, but he put his car keys back down on the counter.
“okay,” he whispered softly, his voice heavy with defeat. “i won't force you. but let me book your ride. let me at least do that so i know you're in a safe car.”
you didn't have the energy to argue. you just stood by the door, hugging yourself tightly as jungwon quietly pulled out his phone, his hands trembling slightly as he booked a ride to your apartment.
when the app showed the driver was outside, he walked over and opened the door for you. he didn't try to hug you or touch you, completely respecting the distance you asked for.
“text me when you get inside your room,” jungwon said, his dark eyes brimming with so much quiet love and unspoken hurt as he watched you step out into the hallway. “even if you don't want to talk to me, just send a dot. please. just let me know you're safe.”
you nodded your head and closed the door. as you walked down the hallway and headed toward the car, you finally let your tears fall, not caring if the receptionist in the lobby or the driver saw you.
***
dear y/n,
you thought you were completely past this after all these months of quiet, steady happiness.
he is good to you, and he has done absolutely nothing wrong. your heart knows he isn't the one who hurt you, but the fear of history repeating itself is paralyzing. you ran away tonight because the walls were closing in, and you are so terrified of ruining something beautiful.
you are standing at a crossroads now, completely exhausted from fighting your own mind. you want to believe you deserve this love, but the urge to protect yourself is pulling you backward. the storm inside you is loud, but will you still find the strength to trust and give it a try?
you texted jungwon that you needed space. you told him you just needed to make sure history wasn't repeating itself.
it took a few long, agonizing minutes before your phone buzzed in your hand.
jungwon: i understand. take all the time you need, y/n. i’m not going anywhere, and i’m not letting go of us. please just rest well tonight.
staring at the glowing screen, a fresh wave of tears blurred your vision. he was giving you the exact reassurance you desperately needed, yet the heavy, unresolved space between you felt wider than ever.
days turned into weeks and the space between you only grew heavier. neither of you reached out, the silence lingering like an unspoken question that you were both too afraid to answer.
you had thought that having this time to yourself would help clear your head and make you feel safe again. instead, the endless quiet only proved that the ghost of your past wasn’t something he was creating—it was something you were still carrying all on your own. missing him had become a constant, dull ache in your chest, making you realize that the walls you built to protect yourself were only keeping you trapped in your own loneliness.
the realization hit you fully when you found yourself staring at an old photo of the two of you, his bright, genuine smile a stark contrast to the hollow ache currently sitting in your chest. you had spent so much time trying to make sure history wasn't repeating itself that you hadn't noticed you were the one sabotaging your own present. it was finally time to stop letting your fear dictate your future, even if your hands were still shaking at the thought of making things right.
but you were too scared. maybe you didn’t deserve that second chance when all he did was be so nice and gentle, giving you the love you had been searching for all along.
on cue, your phone lit up with an unexpected video call notification. you slid the button to answer, clearing your throat before speaking. “jongseong, hey!”
“hey, y/n,” jongseong replied, his face appearing on the screen. he gave you a small wave, looking totally relaxed but a bit curious. “i’m only calling because a few really sad heartbreak tweets popped up on my timeline today, and i noticed you liked one of them. it just felt a little out of character for you. are you doing okay? any problems between you and jungwon?”
you froze, the heavy silence of your room suddenly feeling magnified through the speaker. your throat felt completely tight, and your mind scrambled for a safe lie, a polite excuse, or any regular answer to cover up the mess inside your head. but looking at jongseong’s kind, expectant face on the screen, the wall you had built over the past few weeks finally crumbled.
you let out a shaky breath, looking down at your lap because you couldn't bear to hold his gaze anymore.
“do you know that there are two types of people in the world?” you murmured, your voice cracking slightly as the tears threatened to spill over again. “the lesson and the one. sadly, i’m the lesson.”
“okay…” he said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned closer to the camera. “i’m not following. what do you mean by that, y/n?”
“i mean… some people only enter a person’s life to teach them how to love, how to grow, or how to be better for the next person,” you whispered, a single tear finally slipping down your cheek. “they’re just a temporary chapter. they're the lesson. and then there are the people who get to stay forever. they’re the one.”
you finally looked up at the screen, your eyes completely raw and vulnerable as you stared at him.
“his parents think i'm just a phase, jongseong. they think i'm just someone he's with until he's ready to go back to a blueprint that naturally fits his world. and the worst part is… i’m starting to think they’re right.”
you let out a tired, shaky sigh, pulling your knees up to your chest.
“you know my history, jongseong. you’ve seen firsthand how many times i’ve been left behind, and how much it took for me to piece myself back together,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a soft, exhausted whisper. “i already know exactly how it feels to be the lesson that helps a man grow up for someone else. i’ve been that girl my entire life, and i just… i don’t think i have the strength to go through that all over again with him.”
jongseong went completely quiet on the other end of the line, his expression softening as your words settled over him. he rubbed the back of his neck, looking down for a brief second as if carrying a quiet weight of his own before fixing his steady, grounded gaze back on you.
“y/n, look at me,” he said softly, his voice dropping into that deep, comforting tone. “i know your history. i know exactly how much you've been through, and i'm not going to sit here and tell you that your fears aren’t valid. but you are completely wrong about one thing.”
he leaned a little closer to the camera. “i don't know the guy personally, but i know you. and from everything you’ve ever told me about him, from the way your face lights up when you mention his name, he isn't the type to treat you like a phase. his parents don't get to decide who his 'one' is, y/n. he already chose you, so don't let their words choose his ending for him.”
you looked away from the screen, your bottom lip trembling as his words cut right through your defenses. you wanted so desperately to believe he was right, but the heavy weight in your chest made it so hard to breathe.
“but what if they’re right, jongseong?” you whispered, a fresh tear spilling over as you brought your knees closer to your chest. “it’s so easy to say he chose me now, but choosing someone gets a lot harder when the whole world is pulling you in the opposite direction. i'm just so tired of being the only one who ends up broken when the choice gets too heavy.”
“you told me once, he’s different. you said he was the first person who made you feel safe enough to lower your guard. don't take away his chance to be the one who stays just because everyone else before him left.”
you let out a shaky breath, wiping the dampness from your cheeks with the back of your hand. his words hit a little too close to home, reminding you of the girl who used to be so certain about the boy she loved.
“i did say that, didn't i?” you whispered, a small, incredibly tired smile touching your lips for a split second. you looked back up at the screen, trying to clear the thick emotion from your throat. “i'm sorry for dumping all of this on you out of nowhere. let's not talk about my mess anymore. how are things with you and karina?”
jongseong chuckled softly, the heavy atmosphere completely lifting as he leaned back in his desk chair. “speaking of the devil,” he murmured, just as the sound of a fridge door closing echoed through the speaker, followed by the soft padding of footsteps.
a second later, karina leaned into the frame, damp hair wrapped in a towel and a plate of sliced fruit in her hand. “tell her i say hi! and tell her you haven't washed the dishes from breakfast yet,” she teased, popping a piece of apple into her mouth before pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head and walking back to the living room.
jongseong rolled his eyes fondly, watching her leave before fixing his gaze back on you. “see? we’re surviving, even if we’re constantly stressed about finals and rent. our parents definitely had their doubts about us moving in together so early, but we just decided to figure it out as we go. it’s not perfect, but it’s real. you and jungwon can figure it out too, if you just give him the chance to try.”
“thanks, jongseong,” you murmured, the tight knot of anxiety in your chest finally unravelling into a sudden, desperate wave of clarity.
“anytime, buddy,” he replied with a warm, final nod.
and with that, you both ended the call.
before the fear could creep back in, you immediately grabbed a coat from the chair and shoved your feet into your crocs. you unlocked the deadbolt with trembling fingers and swung the door open, but what you didn’t expect was jungwon standing right there, catching his breath with his hair sweaty, probably from running all the way to you.
“h-hi.”
“hi.”
a breathless, fragile silence settled over the hallway. jungwon looked down, his gaze lingering on your feet tucked into your crocs, and then you looked at his messy, sweat-dampened hair. despite the heavy heartbreak that had been hovering over you both for weeks, a tiny, incredibly watery laugh slipped past your lips.
jungwon’s lips twitched into a faint, exhausted smile, though his eyes stayed completely soft and intense.
“where were you going in such a hurry?” he asked softly, his voice still a little breathless.
“i was… i was going to you,” you confessed, your voice cracking as the tears finally spilled over, blurring your vision.
jungwon’s eyes softened completely, his hand moving from your wrist to gently cup your cheek, his thumb catching the tear before it could fall. “to me? why?”
“because i’m so tired of being the girl who only exists to teach good men how to love someone else,” you choked out, your hands anchoring onto the fabric of his jacket because your knees felt weak. “i don’t want you to be my temporary chapter, jungwon. i don’t want this to be another heartbreaking lesson. i know you’re the one. i know it. and it terrifies me, but i was running to tell you that i don’t want to let you go.”
jungwon stared at you, completely frozen as his usual composure totally shattered. a glassy sheen quickly took over his sharp eyes, his bottom lip trembling just a fraction as the heavy unshed tears made him look incredibly vulnerable in the dim hallway light. he looked so profoundly undone by your confession that he couldn't even find his voice to speak.
seeing him look at you like that suddenly made a wave of intense self-consciousness rush over you.
you let out a wet, breathless laugh, instantly dropping your gaze to his chest as your cheeks flushed deep red. “oh god,” you muttered, your voice cracking as you weakly hid your face against his jacket. “i can’t believe i sound so silly saying that. it sounded so cringe, i'm sorry—”
jungwon wasted no time in closing the gap between the two of you and crashed his lips onto yours. compared to your first kiss, this one was full of pure yearning and a desperate, breathless relief that made your knees give out completely.
he kissed you until the lingering taste of your tears melted away, his hands moving up to cup your face so tightly, as if he were physically anchoring you to him. when he finally pulled back just a fraction, his forehead remained rested against yours, both of your breaths coming out in hot, uneven puffs in the quiet hallway.
“it’s not silly,” jungwon whispered fiercely, his voice raspy and thick with the tears he was trying not to spill. he blinked, a stray drop finally escaping and trailing down his flushed cheek as he looked deep into your eyes. “i ran all the way here because i felt like i was suffocating without you. i ran to tell you that i don't want to lose you. i'm not letting you go.”
you could only nod as a fresh wave of tears blurred your vision. your fingers gripping his shoulders so hard your knuckles turned white.
jungwon smiled weakly, his thumbs gently wiping away the new tears on your cheeks before leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, right at your hairline. he kept his arms securely locked around you, anchoring you against his warm chest until your breathing finally synced up with his.
“i mean it, y/n,” he murmured into your hair, his voice steadier now but still filled with that fierce determination. “no more lessons. we're figuring this out together.”
***
dear, y/n,
in this world, there are two types of people: the one and the lesson. you were the latter. but right now, you’re the first.
you spent so much time convincing yourself that you were only built to be a temporary chapter, a stepping stone for someone else's perfect blueprint. but you don't have to stay broken just to teach a good man how to love. you can be the one who gets to stay, too. and you finally found your 'the one'—the boy who ran all the way to your door in the middle of the night just to prove he was never going to let you go.
three months later.
“jungwon, if you don't turn that stove down right now, we are going to set the fire alarm off for the third time this month,” you laughed, leaning against the counter of your apartment as you watched him frantically wave a kitchen towel in front of a smoking pan.
“i have it completely under control!” he insisted, though his cheeks were flushed a soft pink and his sharp eyes were wide with adorable panic. he quickly slid the pan off the burner, letting out a dramatic sigh of relief before turning around to face you. his hair was slightly messy, a soft contrast to the structured, neat look he usually wore around his family, and he was wearing an super oversized hoodie that you were pretty sure actually belonged to you.
you walked over, entirely unable to hide the fond smile on your face as you reached up to fix a stray strand of hair falling over his forehead. “you’re supposed to be the responsible college student, remember? what happened to the planner jungwon?”
“the plan got complicated,” jungwon murmured, his tone instantly softening the second your fingers brushed against his skin. without missing a beat, his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him with that effortless, natural familiarity that had become your favorite part of every single day. “besides, i was distracted looking at you.”
“so cringe,” you teased, echoing the exact words from the night he ran to you, but your heart still did that familiar, happy flip against your ribs.
jungwon chuckled, a low, warm sound that vibrated against your chest as he leaned down, resting his forehead against yours. “i told you three months ago,” he whispered against your lips, his thumbs gently rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of your shirt. “it’s not cringe if it’s real. now kiss me before the smoke alarm actually goes off.”
you didn't miss a beat. you leaned up, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss that carried all the quiet certainty of the past three months. the heavy anxiety, the cruel comments from his parents, and the ghosts of your past heartbreaks were completely gone. there were no more lessons left to learn. there was only jungwon, holding you tight in a smoky kitchen, proving every single day that he was here to stay.
synopsis: when you make the mistake of telling your best friend that you’ve never reached an orgasm, he makes it his personal mission to make sure you get there.
wc: 7.5k
warnings: park sunghoon x fem!reader, sexual content, mdni, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, blindfold (hello), sensory deprivation, fingering, dry humping, oral f!receiving, lowkey kind of corruption kink, condescending hoon, praise kink, hoon is a secret yearner, pet names (baby, pretty/good/sweet girl, sweetheart), not proofread
roses thoughts… i’m ovulating #sorry
playlist: morning dew - beyoncé // human nature - madonna // cinnamon girl - lana del rey
The party’s been going on so long that the air has turned moist and the alcohol has begun to taste more like water instead of something dangerous.
Yunjins laughing at something next to you, her eyes half lidded and her limbs moving languidly. If it’s from the weed or the sheer gallons of vodka you’re sure she’s consumed tonight you aren’t entirely sure. What you are sure of though, is that you have definitely far surpassed the thin line between tipsy and black out drunk.
The weed makes your thoughts jumble together like some weird jigsaw puzzle, and every word that you manage to punch out takes way more effort then it probably should.
“But, seriously,” Jungwon starts, his words languid and low, “sex is kind of transactional. At least in this day and age.”
Yunjin attempts to smack his arm but instead she misses him completely and her hand lands between the couch cushions. She doesn’t bother moving it.
“That is sooo not true,” she drags out. “Sex is, like, sacred. Your body is a temple and all that bullshit.”
Jungwon laughs. “Maybe for other women, but I’m not sure if your body could be considered sacred anymore, Yunjin.”
She scoffs, her eyebrows furrowing in what might look like offense, but you know deep down she enjoys the easy banter her and Jungwon always seem to have. “Says the one who sticks his dick into anything that has a pulse!”
You are perfectly content to just listen to their conversation, as it would seem is Sunghoon.
You’d met Sunghoon your freshman year of university when you were still a small town girl in a city that felt way too big for you. He’d sat next to you in your freshman econ class and helped you around the city without so much as a whisper of a complaint, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since.
He’s always been the quiet brooding type, even when you’re around your mutual friends, and that’s become something you’ve found yourself finding comfort in more often than not. His presence is a consistent force in your life, and now that you’re nearing graduation and heading into unknown territory, it’s nice to have something so steady in your life.
That’s why you didn’t argue when he threw his arm around your shoulders and insisted you sit next to him. It’s why you didn’t argue when he offered you the blunt despite knowing you always get way too clingy when you’re high.
Sunghoon is your best friend. You trust him, and you know he feels the same way towards you.
You lean back into his arm, continuing to nurse the beer you’d had for the last hour. It makes your head feel warm and fuzzy in all the right ways, especially after whatever the fuck midterms had been. A disaster would be putting it lightly.
Sunghoon glances at you, his lips still enclosed around the blunt. He takes a drag of it, letting the end glow a bright orange before he pulls it away from his lips and offers it to you.
You accept it graciously, letting the smoke fill your lungs until you’re positive they’ll burst. You’ve never really been a big stoner, not like Ni-ki and Jungwon, but when you do let yourself indulge you always enjoy it.
Sunghoon watches when you exhale, his eyes following the cloud that forces its way from your lips and disperses around the room. For a moment, you think he almost looks impressed.
You laugh, your hand reaching out to shove at his chest gently. “What?” You ask.
He blinks, the movement slow, like he’s working overtime to process that you’d said anything at all. “What?” He echoes.
“You’re looking at me weird,” you mumble, dragging your eyes back to Yunjin and Jungwon. They’re still arguing over whether or not sex is transactional or whatever, and Ni-ki is just watching them like he can’t decide if he’s interested or if he wants them to shut up completely.
Sunghoon chuckles, the sound low and deep. You bring your gaze back up to him and watch as his lips curve up into that same lazy smirk he always seems to wear. Sometimes you wonder if that’s just his natural resting face.
“Was I?” He mumbles, choosing to play dumb.
You’re not in the right headspace to argue with him, so instead you just sigh and let yourself sink further into the curve of his arm. His thigh is right against yours, the fabric of his jeans rubbing against the thin lining on your tights. If it was anyone else, you’d probably feel a little self-conscious at being so close, but this is Sunghoon. He’s never shied away from physical touch, and at some point it just became another factor in your friendship.
The sound of your name forces your thoughts about Sunghoon to fade into the background, and when you look up Yunjin is staring at you like you’ve said something shocking. Which is weird, because you don’t remember saying anything at all.
“Huh?” You manage, your eyebrows furrowing as you try to work through the cloud in your mind.
Yunjin rolls her eyes but repeats herself anyway. “Do you think sex is transactional?” She asks before throwing a fiery glare at Jungwon. “Or is Jungwon just a grade A asshole?”
…Sex? She’s asking you about sex?
Usually you wouldn’t mind indulging in her less than ethical questions, especially when you’ve had a few drinks, but this one feels a little personal.
It’s not that you haven’t had sex, you have! Plenty of times actually, with a plethora of different men. Boyfriends, casual hook ups, one night stands – you’ve really done it all.
There’s just one teeny, tiny problem.
You can’t finish.
You used to blame it on the men you were seeing. They clearly had no idea how to please a woman and thus you were the one suffering for it. But then you’d tried to get yourself off with your hand and, well…nothing happened. So then you tried a toy and still – nothing.
It didn’t take you long to realize that it was clearly just something wrong with you. You’d self-diagnosed yourself as one of those unlucky women that simply couldn’t orgasm, and yeah, it sucked, but it was your life. How could you miss something you’d never even had anyway?
And it’s not like the buildup isn’t enjoyable, because it definitely is. It just never goes where you want it to, and you always end up feeling dissatisfied after. So you’d stopped trying completely after yet another failed attempt last year and that had been that.
You hadn't sworn off sex completely, you just stopped actively searching for it. And it was nice to not have to fake reaching your peak with every man that found his way into your bed, but that didn’t make the subtle jealousy you felt whenever Yunjin talked about her experiences disappear completely. It just made it more bearable.
You choose to just shrug, taking another sip from the bright red solo cup in your hand. “I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask that question.” You snort.
Yunjin raises a brow, genuine confusion washing over her features, before she seems to finally remember. “Ah,” she breathes, slumping back down into her seat. “Right. I forgot.”
Yunjin is the only person you’d confided in about your problem. She was supportive, of course, but she still sometimes told you that she thought it was all in your head. That you had some kind of mental block when it came to orgasming, but you couldn’t help but feel like that was a little silly. Why would your mind keep you from reaching what most women described as the ultimate pleasure? If it was, then that was just plain cruel.
The conversation starts to move on again, but Sunghoon glances at you and then swiftly brings it back around.
“Hold on,” he starts, eyebrows furrowed. “What was that about?”
“What was what about?” Yunjin asks.
He pulls his arm away from your shoulders and uses his now free hand to gesture between you and Yunjin. “That,” he insists. “You asked her her thoughts on sex and then just blew past it.”
Yunjin glances at you, meanwhile your cheeks suddenly feel like they're burning. Why does he even care what your thoughts on sex are? It’s a silly question, one that you’ll probably forget anyone even asked in the morning, and yet he’s choosing to focus on the one minute thing you said in the entire debate.
Which wasn’t even anything ground breaking! You just said you wouldn’t be the right person to ask, that was it.
So why is he taking such an interest in it?
“Um,” Yunjin starts, her gaze finding yours before returning to Sunghoon. “Why do you care?”
He doesn’t even falter like you’d expected him to. Instead, he leans back and pulls you closer into his side. “Am I not allowed to be worried for my best friend?”
You swallow and attempt to put some distance between you, but he doesn’t let you. If anything, he just pulls you even closer. All the way until you’re sure you can taste the remnants of cologne on his clothes and the weed on his breath.
“Sunghoon,” you laugh, the sound coming out more nervous than anything else. “It’s nothing. Don’t get so worked up about it.”
But he doesn’t seem to like that answer either. “So something happened?”
You shake your head. “No, it’s not that–”
“Then what?”
You pause, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. If you had all your inhibitions in check, you probably would’ve resisted telling him in such an open space. Because even though Jungwon and Ni-ki are trying to make it seem like they aren’t listening, you know they are. At least Yunjin doesn’t try to hide her nosiness.
You know that realistically Sunghoon is just worried for you, he is your best friend after all. You’d be worried for him too if he suddenly got weird when the topic of sex got brought up, but still, you wish you were admitting this to him somewhere with a little more privacy.
You lean back into the cushions, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Sunghoon, always so in tune with your emotions, immediately reaches a hand over to smooth down your hair.
“What is it, sweet girl?” He asks, his voice lowered so that only you can hear him. “You know you can tell me.”
And that’s the thing, you do know. And it should be easy telling him, because you know it’s not like he’ll judge you. If anything, he’ll probably be more sympathetic towards you then Yunjin is.
But, still. There’s something about telling him that makes shame burn deep in your cheekbones.
You shrug, your fingers toying with the edge of your skirt. “It’s embarrassing.”
He grins, all teeth and crinkled eyes. He’s staring at you like you’re something precious, like you’re something he has to handle with care. Not like you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions when it comes to her sex life – or lack of one.
“Nothing about you is embarrassing.”
That’s what finally breaks you. You sigh, words slightly jumbled together and voice so quiet you’re shocked he can even hear you. “I can’t,” you gesture with your hand lazily. “You know. Finish, or whatever."
He blinks. One moment passes, and then two. You’re on the verge of thinking you’ve somehow made him uncomfortable when suddenly he’s laughing like you’ve said something hilarious. “What?”
Yunjin tosses a pillow at him, but he just lets it hit him square in the chest and doesn’t spare her a glance. “It’s not funny, Sunghoon!” She defends. “It’s a serious condition.”
You roll your eyes, but you don’t have time to focus on her because Sunghoon is quickly invading your senses again. “I’m not making fun of you, baby,” he mumbles, lips dangerously close to your ear. “It’s just…cute. That’s all.”
It most definitely is not cute. It’s humiliating, if anything. The one thing you’re supposed to be able to count on your body to do for you, it refuses to. What kind of woman can’t even orgasm?
“No, it's not,” you groan, running a hand down your face. “It’s weird.”
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything to that, but you can tell something in his expression has shifted. He’s eyeing you now like you’re some kind of anomaly he wants to figure out. Like your condition is something that’s piqued his curiosity.
You aren’t entirely sure how you feel about that.
The night continues easily – everybody's too drunk or high to focus on whatever little blip it was you’d had. Even you forget about it after another round of drinks.
But Sunghoon doesn’t. He can’t.
Even when he goes to bed that night, every time he closes his eyes all he can see is you. His pretty little best friend. Sexually frustrated and somehow thinking there's something wrong with you.
To Sunghoon, that’s utterly absurd. Clearly these men you’ve been with don’t know how to handle you, and that’s not your fault! No, what you need is someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone who will actually listen to what your body needs and doesn’t just chase his own pleasure.
What you need is…him.
And Sunghoon is a good best friend. He always has been. All he’d be doing is helping you, really. Just a friend helping out a friend.
Nothing more, nothing less.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖༄
The next week passes by just like it normally does. You go to class and try not to think about the fact that you definitely bombed your exams. Everytime you walk into a lecture, fear creeps up your spine at the thought of your teacher handing over a test with your name on it.
Sunghoon is there to help you through the anxiety though. He comes to your dorm every night with a bag of nerds gummy clusters and his laptop.
You always start the night exactly how you plan to. Sunghoon helps you study, you both pretend to give a fuck for an hour or two, and then you end up side by side in your bed watching reruns of your favorite sitcom. It’s a simple routine that you’ve come to cherish, one that you don’t even remember starting. It honestly felt like one day he’d started showing up and then he just…never stopped.
“You know,” you mumble, popping another cluster into your mouth. “I think we’ve watched this show so many times we could probably recite the whole thing.”
Sunghoon shrugs, his glasses hanging off of the bridge of his nose. He reaches up and pushes them back into place without a second thought. “Modern Family is a classic.”
You hum. Modern Family is a classic. “Yeah, true.”
You both lull into silence again after that, your eyes following the screen as one of the characters does something stupid. It makes you laugh despite the fact that you know it’s coming. Sunghoon lets out a huff of breath too, but he seems on edge.
His hand keeps fisting the sheet until his knuckles turn white, and he only does that when something's bothering him. He doesn’t even seem to be paying as much attention to the show as he usually does.
It’s like his thoughts keep wandering and he’s trying to make the stop.
It worries you. The last time you’d seen Sunghoon this anxious was sophomore year, right before he broke up with his girlfriend. He never told you why he did, just that something about the relationship didn’t feel right.
But, last you checked, he doesn’t have any girlfriends he’s wanting to break up with right now, which means something else is bothering him.
You nudge his shoulder gently, your eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong?” You ask.
He blinks, his eyes glued to the laptop before they slowly slide over to you. “Hm?”
You huff out a laugh. “I said what’s wrong? You’ve been acting off ever since we turned the show on. Did something happen?”
You watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. He doesn’t move his gaze from yours, but for some reason you wish he had. He’s looking at you so intensely, eyes searching yours like they hold the answer to the meaning of life.
Sunghoon gets like this sometimes. It’s almost like he’s…holding something back. And whenever you question him on it, he usually just pats your arm and tells you not to worry your pretty little head about it. You stopped questioning it a long time ago.
But he doesn’t do that tonight. Instead, he lets his tongue drag over his lips, and you can’t help the way your eyes flicker down to the movement.
You’re not blind. You know your best friend is ridiculously handsome. You know plenty of girls have gotten jealous and wished that it were them in your place. But your relationship with Sunghoon isn’t like that, he’s just your friend.
Besides, even if you did want him like that, you’d never want to risk your friendship with him.
His lip's part for a moment, and then close, and then part again. “I…” He trails off, takes a deep breath, and then starts again. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
You raise a brow. When did you say something? You try to rack your brain, but you come up empty. You can’t recall anything you said that would be worth bringing it up again.
“Did I say something?”
His lips break out into a small smile, the curve threatening to reveal the tip of his fangs. “Do you not remember?"
You try to think back to anything you might’ve said, but still, you come up blank. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, expression scrunched in confusion. “Should I?”
Sunghoon is silent at that. He just looks at you, looks back down at his hands, and then straightens himself up so suddenly he feels like he’s towering over you in bed.
“If you don’t remember,” he murmurs, “then I’ll remind you.”
He leans on the tiniest bit closer, and suddenly it feels like all the air has been sucked from your lungs. You and Sunghoon have been close plenty of times before, but this feels different. This feels almost…intimate.
You swallow, your eyes widening the tiniest bit as you attempt to scoot closer to the headboard. “Hoon…”
“You told me,” he starts, his voice low in that sultry kind of way. “That you’ve never had an orgasm. That you can’t, actually.”
The memory dawns on you then. The party, the alcohol, the weed. You’d somehow unknowingly buried it all the way to the back of your mind without even realizing, and now you’re dealing with the consequences of your big mouth.
You wince. It’s almost embarrassing to hear the words coming out of Sunghoons mouth. Even though you know it’s true, that doesn’t make it any less humiliating.
“Oh,” you mumble. “I did?”
“You did.”
You clear your throat and attempt to look at least a little unbothered. “Well, it’s true so…you don’t need to bring it up again. It’s already embarrassing enough having my best friend know there’s clearly something wrong with me.”
His eyebrows furrow, and for a split second, he almost looks angry. Like the thought of you thinking there’s something wrong with you enrages him.
“Embarrassing?” He scoffs. “It’s not embarrassing. And there’s nothing wrong with you. You just haven’t been with the right kind of guys.”
You probably would’ve agreed with him if you hadn’t also attempted to get yourself there. You literally just cannot do it. It’s not the guys you’re with or anything like that, it’s just you.
“But that’s the thing!” You insist. Any shyness you might’ve had towards the topic before suddenly disappears. “It’s not just the guys. I can’t…I can’t finish on my own either.”
For what it’s worth, that looks like it genuinely makes Sunghoon pause. His eyes widen the tiniest fraction, his movements pausing before he resumes them.
“You can’t…” He glances down to your hands in your lap.
You roll your eyes, cheeks practically blistering. You’re positive your ears are the same color as a tomato at this point. “No, I can’t. It’s whatever. Can we just finish the show?”
But Sunghoon doesn’t back off. Instead, he reaches behind him and shuts the laptop completely, cutting off whatever noise it was making. He pushes it off of the bed, not even flinching when it clatters violently onto the floor.
“So, let me get this straight,” he starts. You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve never had an orgasm? Like, ever?”
He knows you said at the party that you can’t finish, but he assumed you meant with other guys. Not that you can’t finish at all.
“Yep,” you say, popping the P. Your arms cross over your chest in frustration. You don’t understand why he won’t just let the topic go. Yunjin doesn’t even hound you this much about it! “I’m one of the only girls in the world who can’t finish. Are you done making fun of me now?”
He leans back slightly, his pupils suddenly dilated and his tongue sweeping over his teeth. The tension in the air builds quickly, until it feels like you’re definitely going to choke on it.
Slowly, Sunghoon crawls over until he’s seated right in front of you. He leans back on his heels, studying your face like you’re some kind of expensive art piece. Usually, you don’t mind when he looks at you. In fact, you bask in it. But this feels different. This feels almost hungry.
“You think that there’s something wrong with you?” He asks, voice hushed. Deep.
You swallow, suddenly feeling silly for even admitting that to him. But what other explanation is there outside of you being biologically engineered differently than how you were supposed to? Maybe your mother drank a cup of coffee when she was pregnant and now you’re being forced to suffer for it.
You shrug. “What other explanation is there?”
He brings a hand up to your calf, the tips of his fingers brushing over the skin lightly. The touch feels like ice against your warm skin, and you can’t help the way your breath nearly catches in your throat.
He doesn’t look at you, but you’re staring at him. At the curve of his jaw. The way his bangs fall over his forehead like he styled them to be that perfect. At the freckles dotting his soft skin.
You know your best friend is attractive. You’ve always known.
But this…there’s something about it now that makes your stomach twist with arousal.
His fingers pause at the bottom of your knee, his thumb rubbing soft circles into it. You’re suddenly thankful that you took the time to shave last night.
He shifts, leaning forward just enough that you can smell his cologne. “I think you just…haven’t listened to what your body wants. To what it needs.”
You scoff lightly, but it sounds forced. Honestly, you’re too focused on how his touch feels against your skin to even think about whatever it is he’s saying to you.
“I think I would know what I need.”
He shrugs, tongue flickering out to wet his lips before it slides back into his mouth. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
You pull your legs out of his grip and hug them towards your chest. He doesn’t look shocked when you do it — he just lets his hand land on the bed and looks up at you.
“Why are you bringing this up?” You ask. You hate that you can hear the way your voice sounds so quiet. Shy. You’ve never felt shy around Sunghoon.
He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Just lets his gaze trail from your eyes down to your chest, to the curve of your hip and all the way back up to the plump of your lips.
He scoots closer slowly, and suddenly his chest is right against your calves. Breathing suddenly feels difficult – like a task instead of something you just do on autopilot. His very presence feels mind consuming.
He’s hesitant for only a moment, something flashing in his eyes, and then he’s tossing it out the window and speaking so clearly you’d almost think there were other people in the room.
“I want to help you.”
You blink. “Help me?”
“Yeah.” He says easily, like those five words hadn’t just changed the trajectory of your friendship in a way you hadn’t been prepared for. “We’re best friends, aren’t we? Best friends help each other.”
Your cheeks flush at the implication. There’s a line between helping your friend and doing something like that for them. This isn’t just him letting you borrow his notes, this is unexplored territory. This is your body, your pleasure – all of it in his hands.
You’d be lying if you said the idea didn’t excite you.
But Sunghoon is your best friend, you can’t do that with him. It’d be wrong, and it’d change your relationship completely. You don’t know if you’d ever even be able to come back from something like that. The idea in general sounds good, even if you’re positive he’s not going to change anything about your condition, but the consequences are too great. You can’t do it. You can’t.
Right?
“What?” You splutter, a nervous laugh forcing itself from your throat. “I’m sorry, are you telling me you want to help me,” you clear your throat, your voice lowering into a hushed whisper, “...orgasm?”
Sunghoon smirks, his canines on full display like he’s some type of predator. “Yeah, I am.”
You blanch, your eyes wide as you stare at him like he’s grown two heads. At this point, you think an extra extremity would probably be less shocking than the words coming out of his mouth.
“Absolutely not,” you say, arms forming an X across your chest. “That’s…I can’t do that with you. It would change too much. Besides, I already told you, I physically cannot do it. I really doubt you’re going to be the one to change that.”
Sunghoon leans back on his hands, his smirk widening just a fraction. Like he’s taking your words as some kind of challenge. It scares you and makes heat swirl in your abdomen just the same.
“So, you're scared?” He asks, tone light and teasing, but there’s an underlying smoothness to it that makes a chill crawl up your spine. “You’re scared that I’ll prove you wrong.”
“I’m not scared.” You scoff.
Sunghoon just shrugs. “You are, and that’s okay. If you want to go the rest of your life without having an orgasm, then that’s your prerogative."
Your eyes narrow at that. You know he’s just trying to rile you up to get what he wants, but you can’t help falling for it anyway. You aren’t scared of what he’ll show you, you just don’t want to mess up your friendship for something you’re positive isn’t possible. It doesn’t matter how big his fucking ego is.
“I’m not scared,” you repeat. “I just know that you aren't going to miraculously be the guy that suddenly helps me finish.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yes.”
His eyes bore into yours – challenging you. Teasing you. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows exactly how this is going to play out, even if you haven’t fully caught up to it.
He has to bite his cheek to keep his smile from getting any bigger. “Prove it then.”
“What?”
He leans forward again, his hands coming up to rest at the top of your knees. Slowly, he forces them apart and makes space for himself between your legs. He doesn’t move into it, just leaves it there like an unspoken promise. “If you really think I’m just going to end up like every other guy, then prove it to me. Prove me wrong.”
You know what he’s doing. You know he knows how competitive you can get. He’s trying to push you into the direction he wants, to mold you like clay into his hands. And you don’t want to fall for it, you really don’t.
But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you – all smug and so sure of himself. You’ve heard the rumors around campus, you know Sunghoons never shied away from his experience in the bedroom, but experience doesn’t matter for you. It’s just your biology.
And if he wants you to prove him wrong so fucking badly, then you will.
You don’t remember surging forward to kiss him – not until your teeth clash and he lets out the smallest sigh of approval. His hands are everywhere immediately – gripping the flesh of your hip, tracing up the line of your spine.
He kisses you like he’s been waiting for it, like he’s a man starving and you’ve depraved him from any sort of substance. His tongue slides into your mouth easily, and you let out the slightest whine at the feeling.
He groans, his eyes squeezing together tightly. For a moment, you almost think he’s in pain.
“Fuck, that’s right,” he mumbles against your lips. “Prove it to me, baby.”
You kiss him harder, saliva beginning to pool at the corners of your lips. Sunghoon licks it up without a complaint. In fact, you think he’d thank you for it if he could.
His hands under your shirt and onto your hips, rubbing circles into your skin, and then he’s dragging you onto his lap without breaking away from the kiss.
You gasp when you feel his bulge through his sweatpants, the imprint pressing right against your folds. He’s big, you can tell that without even seeing it. The thought of your best friend carrying that around makes butterflies fly somewhere in your stomach.
Sunghoon kisses you deeper, his tongue licking into your mouth. Your mind is spinning from the sensation, and he’s barely touched you outside of kissing. It makes you feel like you’re in high school all over again.
Most men don’t waste their time kissing you like this. They just give you a few pecks and then get right to work using you to chase their own high. It’s become something you’ve learned to expect. But Sunghoon is kissing you like it’s the main event – like he’s been waiting his entire life to do it.
Slowly, he uses his grip on your hips to grind you against his cock, and instant pleasure bursts low in your tummy. The fabric between you does little to dull the feeling of his tip nudging against your clit – if anything, it almost makes it all the more intimate.
“Fuck,” you sigh out, your hands gripping his shirt like you’re trying to ground yourself.
He lets out a chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “Hm?” He hums, moving from your lips to your jaw. “You say something, Sweetheart?”
You bite on your lip to keep yourself from spitting some kind of insult at him. Of course he’s enjoying watching you fall apart from a few measly kisses. But that doesn’t mean anything. You still haven’t cum, and you’re positive you aren’t going to.
“Shut up,” you mumble. Your hands slide up from his chest to his hair, gripping his black locks as he sucks at the sensitive skin around your neck.
You can feel him smile against your skin, but he doesn't say anything else about it. Instead, he nips gently at your collarbone and then basks in the whimper it pulls from you.
His hips push up into yours again, and the feeling is enough to force your lips to part in pleasure. Hesitantly, you begin to grind into him on your own, your movements erratic compared to the preciseness of his thrusts.
He clicks his tongue, tightening his grip and forcing your hips to still. You immediately whine – completely forgetting that you’re supposed to be embarrassed – but he just shakes his head.
“Is that what you think pleasure is?” He asks, letting his fingertips drag across the bare skin of your stomach. “No wonder you can’t cum.”
You furrow your brows. You have no idea what he’s talking about. “What?” You murmur, the word breathless and whiny. If the entire point of this is to bring you to your peak, you don’t understand why he’s forcing you to stop.
He licks his lips, and you can’t help but notice how red and raw they are. Completely kiss-bitten. It makes you proud that he looks just as wrecked as you’re sure you do.
“You’re not letting yourself get any actual build up,” he explains, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “You’re chasing something that hasn’t even gotten the chance to form yet.”
You part your lips to respond, maybe fight back, but nothing comes out. Because that’s the closest thing you’ve ever got to an explanation as to why you can’t seem to do something everybody else can.
You swallow, your posture turning into a slight slouch. “I don’t understand.” You admit quietly.
You’re half expecting him to judge you – maybe laugh. It’s definitely something other men would do. But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he pecks you softly on the nose and gently lays you down until your back is flat against the bed.
“You’re thinking too much,” he mumbles, softly tapping your forehead.
You don’t know how to tell him that you don’t know how to not think about it without sounding like a complete loser. But, then you remember that this is your best friend. And if tonight has shown you anything, it’s that he won’t judge you. You could say the dumbest thing and he would still look at you like you mean something to him.
“I don’t know how to stop.” You admit shakily, the words feeling like a losing battle as they come out.
But they seem to catch Sunghoon off guard. He’s hovering above you, eyes staring into yours with so much emotion you nearly choke on it.
This is different from the teasing Sunghoon you’d seen earlier. This Sunghoon genuinely wants to help you. He wants you to be able to experience something as trivial as an orgasm just to help you feel normal.
This Sunghoon is your best friend.
He kisses you again, but this time it’s slower. Deeper, somehow. This time it feels like he’s kissing you just because he can, and for some reason, you like that.
“Do you trust me?” He asks, his breath ghosting against your wet lips.
You nod at him without a second thought.
He crawls off of you, and the loss of his body is enough to force a breathless whine from your throat. He just shushes you and disappears out of your room. He’s been in your home enough times to know where everything is, but it still leaves you feeling slightly embarrassed at the thought of him looking around your apartment without you. You cleaned yesterday, right? You really hope so.
When he reemerges, he’s holding something long and black. It dangles from his fingers clearly, and the closer you look you realize it’s a piece of black cloth.
“Where’d you find that?” You ask. You probably should be asking what he plans to do with it, but your brain is having trouble processing actual thoughts right now.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he climbs back into bed with you, and ever so carefully presents the fabric to you.
“You said you don’t know how to turn your brain off, right?” He mumbles, bringing a hand to your thigh. His fingertips ghost over the skin, bringing goosebumps in their wake. “Maybe…Maybe this will help.”
You still aren’t understanding, and he seems to be able to tell by the look of genuine confusion on your face. He chuckles and scoots closer, but this time it seems his confidence has faded the tiniest bit. He looks almost nervous, like he’s riding a bike without training wheels for the first time.
“I don’t get it.” You mumble, letting out a nervous laugh. “How is a piece of fabric going to help?”
He balls up the fabric, eyes lingering on it before he finds your gaze again. “Just let me try something?” He asks.
Part of you is screaming at you to say no. You have no idea what’s going through his mind or what strange fantasy he’s planning to play out with you, and you’re terrified to find out.
But the other part of you…the smaller, braver part, wants you to say fuck it. You’ve already come this far with him, what’s a little more push? Besides, what could it hurt?
Slowly, your head nods up and down. Sunghoon, for what it's worth, doesn’t look smug or happy. He just swallows, his adams apple bobbing as he does, and cautiously makes his way so he’s chest to chest with you.
You watch as he brings the piece of fabric towards your head, and then suddenly your vision is cut off completely. You let out a breath of air as he ties the fabric at the back of your skull gently, his fingers working carefully to make sure he doesn’t catch any of your hair.
The vulnerability makes your core ache something awful. The thought of not being able to see him, not being able to know what his next move is…it’s exhilarating.
Your hands clench your sheets from anticipation, knuckles going a vivid white.
You hear Sunghoon chuckle, the sound low and breathy, and then he’s moving somewhere you can’t see. You can feel his hands on your thighs still, like he’s trying to keep you grounded. To reassure you that he’s still here. That he’s not leaving.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He murmurs. You feel his hand slowly slide up until he’s reaching the hem of your shorts. He doesn't go under it – just keeps it there. Like he’s teasing you.
You feel yourself flush. “Don’t say things like that.”
His fingers slide up the fabric until he reaches the waistband, and then slowly he slips his fingertips under it and tugs. “Why?” He asks. You can practically feel the smirk that you’re sure is radiating from him. “It’s true.”
You just let out a breath, too focused on the feeling of him dragging your shorts and underwear down the soft skin of your legs. You hear him toss them aside somewhere, and then the room goes very still.
You swallow uncomfortably, legs closing on instinct. You hate that you can’t see him or even try to guess what he’s thinking. Is he disappointed? Does he not want to do this anymore?
Your hands reach for the blindfold to pull it down, but a sudden grip on your wrist stops you.
“Don’t.” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice low and breathy.
You freeze, arousal begins to pool in your core, and you listen to him. Your hands fall back to your sides and leave you encased in darkness and anticipation.
Ever so slowly, you hear him move. His hands find your knees and push them apart, exposing your glistening folds to him, and you feel him settle between your thighs.
“Poor baby,” he teases, leaving featherlight kisses on the inside of your thighs. “Never been taken care of properly, huh? No wonder this pretty little pussy is practically dripping for me.” He runs the tip of his finger over your slit, and you shiver at the contact.
“Hoon,” you pant, trying to ignore that it sounds more like a beg than anything else. “Just–Just hurry up and touch me so we can get this over with.”
He has the audacity to chuckle, but makes no move to help subside the growing ache in your stomach. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he thinks this entire thing is funny.
“So impatient,” he says, clicking his tongue as he does. “This is why you’ve never cum, princess. You’re rushing things. How’s your pretty pussy supposed to finish if you never let her start in the first place?”
You don’t have a reply for that. If anything, it just irritates you that he sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. He totally doesn’t, but still. It’s annoying that he thinks he knows more about your body than you do.
Slowly, he begins to spread your lips, his thumb spreading your arousal. The pad of it catches on your clit for just a split second, but the jolt of pleasure it gives you is enough to force a gasp out of your throat.
He pulls back for just a moment, before finally his mouth is on you fully, licking a stripe from your hole all the way to your clit. Your back arches without warning, a moan pushing its way from your lungs. The suddenness of it forces your brain to go on temporary pause, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his mouth.
He licks you like a man starved, grunts of pleasure falling from his lips as if he's the one being pleasured. “There you go, baby,” he mumbles against you, the noise drowned out by the wet sounds of your sopping pussy. “Feels good, hm?”
You just moan in response, unable to form any actual thoughts. Suddenly you’re almost grateful for the blindfold, because you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle seeing him in between your legs – making a home for himself there as if he always knew he’d end up there.
His hand grips your hip suddenly, fingers digging into the plush skin so hard you’re sure there’ll be marks in the morning. “Tell me,” he gasps, punctuating it by a tug at your clit. “Tell me exactly how good it feels.”
“So–So good,” you manage. “Fuck, it’s good.”
You’ve had men go down on you before, but never like this. Never like it was something they were doing for their own pleasure and not just because they felt obligated.
“I know it is, pretty girl.” He says. You feel his free hand slowly run up your calf and your inner thigh, before his finger is prodding at your entrance and pushing through the tight ring of muscle.
Your head goes fuzzy, hips lifting off the bed and chasing the heat of his mouth and the thrusts of his finger. It’s an overwhelming sensation, one that you’ve never really experienced before. And for one fleeting moment, you think that Sunghoon might have just done the thing he set out to do.
Prove you wrong.
“Fuck,” you whine, your hand searching blindly for his in an attempt to slow him down. “Hoon, slow down–”
He doesn’t listen. Instead, he forces another finger into your hole, stretching you out deliciously and now giving you a moment to breathe.
“I know, baby, I know,” he mumbles, giving your clit another harsh suck. “It’s gonna feel real good here soon.”
Slowly, the coil in your stomach builds and builds. Usually, this would be when you stop, accidentally edging yourself and thinking it was because you just couldn’t orgasm like a normal woman can. But Sunghoon doesn’t. Instead, he works you through it like there’s no place you’d rather be.
You gasp, reaching up and tugging the blindfold off. It falls to the side slowly, and when you look down you see Sunghoon between your legs, his cock in his hand and jerking himself off with slow, languid strokes.
It’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a guy do.
“Shit, I’m gonna–oh, fuck–”
Sunghoon doesn’t go faster or harder, he just keeps the same pace, until finally you’re spilling over and releasing all over his face, your hole spasming against his fingers. He drinks your release like it’s his own personal ambrosia, groaning through it.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, voice raising in pitch. “Cum all over my face.”
He finishes shortly after you with a small cry, his cum painting your sheets and his hand a milky white.
When it’s over, you're panting like a dog in heat, thighs twitching and sweat beading across your forehead. You don’t even know what to do or say. Your best friend just made you finish for the first time after you’d spent years thinking it just wasn't possible for you. And not only did he bring you to orgasm, he did it without even using his fucking dick.
You could seriously kill him.
Slowly, he climbs up next to you, his own chest heaving from his own orgasm.
“So?” He murmurs.
You glare at him. “Don’t say it.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” But the smirk on his face says otherwise.
You’re having a lot of thoughts right now. Mostly that you can’t believe you just let your best friend eat you out.
But mostly that you can’t wait for him to do it again.
caniac combo hurt so bad omg 😭 i need a pt 2 with a happy ending jungwon and mia overly played
yeaah, so about that part 2…. idk if its gonna happen 😆 DONT BEAT MY ASS
THERES A CHANCE THERE MAY BE A PART 2 BUT PLS DONT BE MAD IF THERE ISN’T
the only reason i say this is because that fic was based off something that happened to me, and since i didn’t get a happy ending im lowkey salty about it 😭😭
but i GUESSS i could give y/n a happy ending with jungwon for the sake of it.
synopsis✧˖°. you and jungwon had always been inseparable. he was your best friend, your safe place, and the person you secretly loved for years. but when your two closest friends become something more, you’re left picking up the pieces of a friendship you thought would last forever
contains✧˖°. angst ; best friends to strangers ; slow burn ; unrequited love ; friendship betrayal ; emotional pain ; prom ; jealousy ; misunderstandings ; heartbreak ; no happy ending ; wc: 2.6k
notes✧˖°. this was kinda rushed and im sorry. i wanted to put something out for you guys so i just did the first thing that came to my mind. anyway, try your best to enjoy!! if you find yourself uncomfortable just know... i went through this irl :))) these messages are real btw... LMAO
people always ask when you started liking yang jungwon.
you never have an answer.
because there wasn’t one.
there wasn’t a moment where everything suddenly clicked, no dramatic realization, no love at first sight. it happened so slowly that by the time you noticed it, it had already become part of you.
first, he was just the boy who sat next to you in middle school science, then he was the boy who started saving you a seat every morning, then he became the person who knew exactly what your laugh sounded like when it was fake.
the first person you texted when something good happened.
the first person you wanted to tell when something went wrong.
your best friend.
at one point, if someone had asked jungwon who he was closest to, he would’ve answered with your name without even thinking.
everyone knew it, teachers paired the two of you together because you worked well, your parents knew his schedule better than your own, his mom would ask about you if you hadn’t come over in a while, people constantly assumed you were dating.
you always laughed it off.
jungwon did too.
“ew.”
“seriously?”
“that’s basically my sibling.”
he’d wrinkle his nose dramatically every time someone asked.
you’d laugh along with him, because what else were you supposed to do?
tell everyone they were wrong?
tell them that somewhere along the way, your feelings had stopped being friendly?
that every time he absentmindedly slung an arm around your shoulders, your heart forgot how to function?
that every time he called you first before anyone else, you secretly wondered if maybe you meant just a little more to him than everyone else?
you couldn’t.
so you laughed, and you got really, really good at pretending.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
your other constants were mia and ava. you’d known them almost as long as you’d known jungwon.
the three of you had survived middle school together, cried over exams together, celebrated birthdays together.
they knew everything, especially about him.
“he looked at me weird today.”
mia sighed.
“define weird.”
“like…” you stabbed your fork into your lunch dramatically. “not weird weird, he smiled.”
ava blinked. “that’s your evidence?”
“no.”
you groaned, dropping your head onto the table. “he smiled, then he fixed my hair because he said it was sticking up.”
mia exchanged a look with ava “see?”
you immediately sat back up “see what?”
“nothing.”
“mia.”
“nothing.”
“ava.”
she tried to hide her smile “we’re just saying…”
“he doesn’t really do that with other people.”
your face immediately warmed “stop.”
“we’re serious.” mia shrugged “he’s always touching you, like causally.. but really not casually.”
you wanted to deny it, except they weren’t wrong.
jungwon was comfortable with you in a way he wasn’t with anyone else.
he’d steal food off your tray, he’d rest his chin on your shoulder while looking at your phone, he’d complain about his day before even saying hi, he’d tug on your hoodie strings just because he was bored.
none of it meant anything.
at least…
that’s what you kept telling yourself.
when you introduced him to mia and ava, it felt natural. your favorite people meeting your favorite person.
what could possibly go wrong?
the four of you clicked almost instantly, weekend hangouts became normal, late night drives, movie marathons, hours spent doing absolutely nothing.
the four of you called yourselves the ‘caniac combo’ after jungwon noticed you each represented an ingredient in the meal.
“y/n, your the chicken cause your the heart of the group, i’m the sauce, cause i’m amazing. mia your the fries, and ava your the garlic bread”
the name stuck, and for a while, you genuinely thought you’d found the people you’d have forever.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
you were having lunch with your girls.
“please mia, it’s all i ask” you begged and begged.
prom was coming up, and you didn’t have a date, and neither did mia.
“y/n… it’s weird” mia huffed out her nose
“it really isn’t!! we’d just be going as friends! plus i want to prompose to you” you gleamed at her, your eyes big
mia paused and looked at you, then looked at ava
ava scoffed “don’t look at me, im not even going to prom” she chuckled
“y/n it’s no, that’s final, im sorry” mia mumbled
you huffed “ugh, fine”
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
it’s been a couple weeks since that incident of mia turning down your invite to prom with her. you’ve hung out the three of you many times and with the ‘caniac combo’ many times within that couple of weeks.
however something felt odd…
you felt distant.
you haven’t talked to jungwon as much as you used to lately. you didn’t know if you had done something or if he just wanted space.
you didn’t know what to do, so you turned to the girls who knew the most.
“i don’t know, i’m just scared i did something” you mumbled, looking down at your hands. mia put a hand on your shoulder.
“everything’s is okay y/n i promise! he’s probably just busy lately” she spoke as she gave you a warm smile.
ava smiled at you too “you overthink stuff too much girl” she chuckled, ruffling your hair.
“i’m glad i have you guys” you smiled, wiping the side of your eye.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
a week later, you were lying on your bed when your phone buzzed.
wonie
can i call you?
your face immediately lit up and you answered before the phone could ring twice.
“hey.”
“hey.”
his voice sounded tired.
you ended up talking for almost two hours. about school, about finals, about the cat he saw outside earlier, about absolutely nothing.
when you hung up, your heart felt lighter.
maybe everything was okay after all.
…except the calls became less frequent, then the texts.
instead of
good morning :)
they became
morning
instead of him sending you random videos throughout the day, there was silence.
you tried not to think about it.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
one day, the four of you were sitting at canes.
“caniac combo!” ava cheered, holding up her cup, everyone laughed.
jungwon slid into the booth beside you like always.
your shoulders bumped. normal, comfortable, familiar.
halfway through eating, mia asked him a question.
then another.
then another.
without realizing it, the conversation slowly shifted. you mostly listened. it wasn’t intentional, you told yourself that. they were just talking. you were just tired.
still, for the first time in years, you felt oddly left out sitting next to your own best friend.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
it started happening more often.
you’d open the group chat to dozens of messages, except they weren’t really talking to everyone, they were mostly replying to each other.
you told yourself you were imagining it, you had to be.
because mia knew, she knew everything. every stupid little detail about your crush, every late night conversation, every “do you think he meant anything by this?”
she wouldn’t, right?
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
then some random tuesday, you get a message from jungwon
your stomach dropped.
you stared at the screen.
that’s all it takes.
no dramatic confession.
no betrayal speech.
she said yes.
after telling you no for months.
your thumb hovered over mia’s contact for a long moment, you didn’t want to assume the worst, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
because this was mia. your best friend, the girl who had listened to you talk about jungwon for years, the girl who knew every little detail about how much he meant to you.
you stared at the screen, trying to figure out how to word it without sounding upset. you didn’t want to accuse her, you didn’t want her to think you were angry, you just wanted to understand.
the typing bubble appeared.
then disappeared.
then appeared again.
you smiled sadly at the screen.
because you loved her too, that was the worst part. you weren’t angry because you hated her, you were hurt because you loved both of them.
and somehow, you were the only person who felt like you were losing something.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
you told yourself you were okay.
you really did. you told yourself that mia and jungwon were just friends, that you were letting your feelings get in the way of something completely innocent. because what else could you do? you trusted them. you trusted mia when she promised nothing would happen, and you trusted jungwon because he had been your best friend for years.
so you pushed the uncomfortable feeling down and tried to move on.
for a little while, it worked.
the four of you still hung out, still laughed together, still called yourselves the caniac combo like nothing had changed.
you still had your inside jokes, your late night conversations, and your random plans that somehow always turned into memories.
from the outside, everything looked the same, but you knew it wasn’t.
you noticed the little things.
the way jungwon and mia always seemed to end up next to each other. the way they had their own conversations more often. the way he started replying to her messages faster than yours. the way you would look over and realize they were laughing together, and you weren’t even sure what you were feeling anymore.
you hated yourself for noticing.
because mia was your best friend.
and jungwon was your best friend.
you were the one who introduced them. you were the one who wanted your favorite people to become friends. you were the one who created the caniac combo in the first place.
so why did it feel like you were slowly becoming the outsider?
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
ava was the first person who noticed.
you were sitting with her after school one day, waiting for your rides, when she looked over at you.
“are you okay?”
you looked up, confused. “what?”
she shrugged, playing with the strings of her hoodie. “you’ve just seemed different lately.”
you looked down at your hands.
“i don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “i just feel like i’m losing them.”
ava’s expression softened “y/n…”
“i know they’re friends,” you interrupted quickly. “i know i don’t have a right to be upset. i know i’m probably just overthinking everything, but it feels like something changed.”
ava stayed quiet for a moment, then she sighed.
“i’m not gonna lie, i think it’s weird too.”
you looked up “really?”
she nodded. “yeah. i just didn’t want to say anything because i didn’t want to make you feel worse.”
and somehow, hearing someone else admit it made your chest feel heavier, because maybe you weren’t imagining it.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
prom finally came.
despite everything, you were excited. you spent hours getting ready, fixing your hair, picking out your outfit, and convincing yourself that tonight would be fun. you didn’t want to spend the whole night worrying. you wanted one last normal memory with the people you cared about.
and for the most part, it was.
you laughed until your stomach hurt. you danced with your friends. you took pictures and made jokes about the music playing. for a few hours, you forgot about the weird feeling in your chest.
you forgot about the distance, you forgot about everything.
until you saw them again. mia and jungwon.
they weren’t doing anything wrong. they weren’t being obvious. they weren’t crossing any lines, but you noticed. you always noticed.
at one point, you walked over to jungwon with your phone in your hand “can we take a picture?”
his face immediately lit up “of course.”
for a second, it felt like old times. you stood next to him, smiling at the camera, feeling like maybe you were being stupid. maybe nothing had changed. maybe you were still his best friend.
the picture was taken.
before you could even look at it, mia walked over “jungwon, wait.”
you turned.
“our last one came out blurry. can we retake it?”
jungwon looked at her, then nodded “oh, yeah.”
and just like that, he walked away. you stood there for a second, forcing a smile.
it was just a picture. it wasn’t a big deal, you weren’t upset, but your heart didn’t seem to understand that.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
a few days after prom, everything changed.
this time, there was no pretending.
jungwon barely talked to you, mia barely talked to you, and ava was quieter too.
the group chat that used to be filled with messages became something you avoided opening. you would see them talking, see their names pop up, and suddenly feel like you weren’t supposed to be there anymore.
you only talked to ava. she was the one person who still felt the same.
...until one day, you finally told her that you had forgiven mia.
“i’m proud of you,” ava said
“i’m proud that you feel comfortable enough to tell her how you feel and forgive her.”
you smiled slightly.
then she continued “but i can’t do this.”
your smile faded “what do you mean?”
ava looked away
“i can’t go through all of this knowing what happened and pretending it doesn’t bother me. i love you, y/n. you’re my best friend. but i don’t think i can keep being involved in this.”
and that was the last real conversation you had with her.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
a couple days later, you were sitting with mia at lunch. you thought maybe things were finally getting better, you thought maybe you were moving forward.
until she suddenly got quiet.
“y/n?”
you looked up “yeah?”
she took a breath “by the way, me and jungwon are dating now.”
everything stopped.
you didn’t hear the cafeteria anymore, you didn’t hear the conversations around you.
all you could hear was that one sentence replaying in your head.
me and jungwon are dating now.
mia looked at you “i wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else.”
you wanted to say something, anything, but you couldn’t. because somehow, you already knew, and somehow, it still hurt worse hearing it out loud.
“...i’ll see you later,” she said softly.
then she left.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
you don’t remember walking to the bathroom, you don’t remember how long you sat there, you just remember crying, because it wasn’t only about jungwon. it was about losing everyone.
the boy who used to be your first call, the girl who knew every single detail about your feelings for him, the friend group you thought would last forever.
you felt embarrassed for being so affected by it. you wished you could just turn your feelings off and move on like everyone else seemed to, but you couldn’t because you loved them, and that was the hardest part.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
school ended.
summer came.
and you still felt like you were barely holding on. you stopped talking to jungwon, not because you hated him, not because you wanted to, but because every conversation reminded you of what you lost.
you wondered if mia asked him to stop talking to you. you wondered if she felt insecure about how close you two were. you wondered if maybe she saw something between you and jungwon that even you didn’t realize.
but you never asked.
eventually, you stopped trying to find answers. now, you’re trying your best to accept everything.
you tell yourself that people change, you tell yourself that some friendships aren’t meant to last forever, you tell yourself you’re okay, and maybe part of you is but sometimes you still miss the ‘caniac combo’
you miss the late night drives, you miss the stupid jokes, you miss the person who used to know everything about you.
you don’t hate them, you don’t think you ever could.
because no matter how much it hurt, they were still the people who once made you the happiest.
and maybe that’s what hurts the most.
⋆˚✿˖°
an✧˖°. i am laughing so hard right now (im not) i hope you guys liked it, it was kind of rushed and i didn't really wanna get too in detail or else this would've been a whole novel. reblogs are always welcome!! please comment and give feedback!! also, if you like this story and want to see something specific, please send an ask!
synopsis✧˖°. you and jungwon had always been inseparable. he was your best friend, your safe place, and the person you secretly loved for years. but when your two closest friends become something more, you’re left picking up the pieces of a friendship you thought would last forever
contains✧˖°. angst ; best friends to strangers ; slow burn ; unrequited love ; friendship betrayal ; emotional pain ; prom ; jealousy ; misunderstandings ; heartbreak ; no happy ending ; wc: 2.6k
notes✧˖°. this was kinda rushed and im sorry. i wanted to put something out for you guys so i just did the first thing that came to my mind. anyway, try your best to enjoy!! if you find yourself uncomfortable just know... i went through this irl :))) these messages are real btw... LMAO
people always ask when you started liking yang jungwon.
you never have an answer.
because there wasn’t one.
there wasn’t a moment where everything suddenly clicked, no dramatic realization, no love at first sight. it happened so slowly that by the time you noticed it, it had already become part of you.
first, he was just the boy who sat next to you in middle school science, then he was the boy who started saving you a seat every morning, then he became the person who knew exactly what your laugh sounded like when it was fake.
the first person you texted when something good happened.
the first person you wanted to tell when something went wrong.
your best friend.
at one point, if someone had asked jungwon who he was closest to, he would’ve answered with your name without even thinking.
everyone knew it, teachers paired the two of you together because you worked well, your parents knew his schedule better than your own, his mom would ask about you if you hadn’t come over in a while, people constantly assumed you were dating.
you always laughed it off.
jungwon did too.
“ew.”
“seriously?”
“that’s basically my sibling.”
he’d wrinkle his nose dramatically every time someone asked.
you’d laugh along with him, because what else were you supposed to do?
tell everyone they were wrong?
tell them that somewhere along the way, your feelings had stopped being friendly?
that every time he absentmindedly slung an arm around your shoulders, your heart forgot how to function?
that every time he called you first before anyone else, you secretly wondered if maybe you meant just a little more to him than everyone else?
you couldn’t.
so you laughed, and you got really, really good at pretending.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
your other constants were mia and ava. you’d known them almost as long as you’d known jungwon.
the three of you had survived middle school together, cried over exams together, celebrated birthdays together.
they knew everything, especially about him.
“he looked at me weird today.”
mia sighed.
“define weird.”
“like…” you stabbed your fork into your lunch dramatically. “not weird weird, he smiled.”
ava blinked. “that’s your evidence?”
“no.”
you groaned, dropping your head onto the table. “he smiled, then he fixed my hair because he said it was sticking up.”
mia exchanged a look with ava “see?”
you immediately sat back up “see what?”
“nothing.”
“mia.”
“nothing.”
“ava.”
she tried to hide her smile “we’re just saying…”
“he doesn’t really do that with other people.”
your face immediately warmed “stop.”
“we’re serious.” mia shrugged “he’s always touching you, like causally.. but really not casually.”
you wanted to deny it, except they weren’t wrong.
jungwon was comfortable with you in a way he wasn’t with anyone else.
he’d steal food off your tray, he’d rest his chin on your shoulder while looking at your phone, he’d complain about his day before even saying hi, he’d tug on your hoodie strings just because he was bored.
none of it meant anything.
at least…
that’s what you kept telling yourself.
when you introduced him to mia and ava, it felt natural. your favorite people meeting your favorite person.
what could possibly go wrong?
the four of you clicked almost instantly, weekend hangouts became normal, late night drives, movie marathons, hours spent doing absolutely nothing.
the four of you called yourselves the ‘caniac combo’ after jungwon noticed you each represented an ingredient in the meal.
“y/n, your the chicken cause your the heart of the group, i’m the sauce, cause i’m amazing. mia your the fries, and ava your the garlic bread”
the name stuck, and for a while, you genuinely thought you’d found the people you’d have forever.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
you were having lunch with your girls.
“please mia, it’s all i ask” you begged and begged.
prom was coming up, and you didn’t have a date, and neither did mia.
“y/n… it’s weird” mia huffed out her nose
“it really isn’t!! we’d just be going as friends! plus i want to prompose to you” you gleamed at her, your eyes big
mia paused and looked at you, then looked at ava
ava scoffed “don’t look at me, im not even going to prom” she chuckled
“y/n it’s no, that’s final, im sorry” mia mumbled
you huffed “ugh, fine”
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
it’s been a couple weeks since that incident of mia turning down your invite to prom with her. you’ve hung out the three of you many times and with the ‘caniac combo’ many times within that couple of weeks.
however something felt odd…
you felt distant.
you haven’t talked to jungwon as much as you used to lately. you didn’t know if you had done something or if he just wanted space.
you didn’t know what to do, so you turned to the girls who knew the most.
“i don’t know, i’m just scared i did something” you mumbled, looking down at your hands. mia put a hand on your shoulder.
“everything’s is okay y/n i promise! he’s probably just busy lately” she spoke as she gave you a warm smile.
ava smiled at you too “you overthink stuff too much girl” she chuckled, ruffling your hair.
“i’m glad i have you guys” you smiled, wiping the side of your eye.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
a week later, you were lying on your bed when your phone buzzed.
wonie
can i call you?
your face immediately lit up and you answered before the phone could ring twice.
“hey.”
“hey.”
his voice sounded tired.
you ended up talking for almost two hours. about school, about finals, about the cat he saw outside earlier, about absolutely nothing.
when you hung up, your heart felt lighter.
maybe everything was okay after all.
…except the calls became less frequent, then the texts.
instead of
good morning :)
they became
morning
instead of him sending you random videos throughout the day, there was silence.
you tried not to think about it.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
one day, the four of you were sitting at canes.
“caniac combo!” ava cheered, holding up her cup, everyone laughed.
jungwon slid into the booth beside you like always.
your shoulders bumped. normal, comfortable, familiar.
halfway through eating, mia asked him a question.
then another.
then another.
without realizing it, the conversation slowly shifted. you mostly listened. it wasn’t intentional, you told yourself that. they were just talking. you were just tired.
still, for the first time in years, you felt oddly left out sitting next to your own best friend.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
it started happening more often.
you’d open the group chat to dozens of messages, except they weren’t really talking to everyone, they were mostly replying to each other.
you told yourself you were imagining it, you had to be.
because mia knew, she knew everything. every stupid little detail about your crush, every late night conversation, every “do you think he meant anything by this?”
she wouldn’t, right?
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
then some random tuesday, you get a message from jungwon
your stomach dropped.
you stared at the screen.
that’s all it takes.
no dramatic confession.
no betrayal speech.
she said yes.
after telling you no for months.
your thumb hovered over mia’s contact for a long moment, you didn’t want to assume the worst, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
because this was mia. your best friend, the girl who had listened to you talk about jungwon for years, the girl who knew every little detail about how much he meant to you.
you stared at the screen, trying to figure out how to word it without sounding upset. you didn’t want to accuse her, you didn’t want her to think you were angry, you just wanted to understand.
the typing bubble appeared.
then disappeared.
then appeared again.
you smiled sadly at the screen.
because you loved her too, that was the worst part. you weren’t angry because you hated her, you were hurt because you loved both of them.
and somehow, you were the only person who felt like you were losing something.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
you told yourself you were okay.
you really did. you told yourself that mia and jungwon were just friends, that you were letting your feelings get in the way of something completely innocent. because what else could you do? you trusted them. you trusted mia when she promised nothing would happen, and you trusted jungwon because he had been your best friend for years.
so you pushed the uncomfortable feeling down and tried to move on.
for a little while, it worked.
the four of you still hung out, still laughed together, still called yourselves the caniac combo like nothing had changed.
you still had your inside jokes, your late night conversations, and your random plans that somehow always turned into memories.
from the outside, everything looked the same, but you knew it wasn’t.
you noticed the little things.
the way jungwon and mia always seemed to end up next to each other. the way they had their own conversations more often. the way he started replying to her messages faster than yours. the way you would look over and realize they were laughing together, and you weren’t even sure what you were feeling anymore.
you hated yourself for noticing.
because mia was your best friend.
and jungwon was your best friend.
you were the one who introduced them. you were the one who wanted your favorite people to become friends. you were the one who created the caniac combo in the first place.
so why did it feel like you were slowly becoming the outsider?
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
ava was the first person who noticed.
you were sitting with her after school one day, waiting for your rides, when she looked over at you.
“are you okay?”
you looked up, confused. “what?”
she shrugged, playing with the strings of her hoodie. “you’ve just seemed different lately.”
you looked down at your hands.
“i don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “i just feel like i’m losing them.”
ava’s expression softened “y/n…”
“i know they’re friends,” you interrupted quickly. “i know i don’t have a right to be upset. i know i’m probably just overthinking everything, but it feels like something changed.”
ava stayed quiet for a moment, then she sighed.
“i’m not gonna lie, i think it’s weird too.”
you looked up “really?”
she nodded. “yeah. i just didn’t want to say anything because i didn’t want to make you feel worse.”
and somehow, hearing someone else admit it made your chest feel heavier, because maybe you weren’t imagining it.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
prom finally came.
despite everything, you were excited. you spent hours getting ready, fixing your hair, picking out your outfit, and convincing yourself that tonight would be fun. you didn’t want to spend the whole night worrying. you wanted one last normal memory with the people you cared about.
and for the most part, it was.
you laughed until your stomach hurt. you danced with your friends. you took pictures and made jokes about the music playing. for a few hours, you forgot about the weird feeling in your chest.
you forgot about the distance, you forgot about everything.
until you saw them again. mia and jungwon.
they weren’t doing anything wrong. they weren’t being obvious. they weren’t crossing any lines, but you noticed. you always noticed.
at one point, you walked over to jungwon with your phone in your hand “can we take a picture?”
his face immediately lit up “of course.”
for a second, it felt like old times. you stood next to him, smiling at the camera, feeling like maybe you were being stupid. maybe nothing had changed. maybe you were still his best friend.
the picture was taken.
before you could even look at it, mia walked over “jungwon, wait.”
you turned.
“our last one came out blurry. can we retake it?”
jungwon looked at her, then nodded “oh, yeah.”
and just like that, he walked away. you stood there for a second, forcing a smile.
it was just a picture. it wasn’t a big deal, you weren’t upset, but your heart didn’t seem to understand that.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
a few days after prom, everything changed.
this time, there was no pretending.
jungwon barely talked to you, mia barely talked to you, and ava was quieter too.
the group chat that used to be filled with messages became something you avoided opening. you would see them talking, see their names pop up, and suddenly feel like you weren’t supposed to be there anymore.
you only talked to ava. she was the one person who still felt the same.
...until one day, you finally told her that you had forgiven mia.
“i’m proud of you,” ava said
“i’m proud that you feel comfortable enough to tell her how you feel and forgive her.”
you smiled slightly.
then she continued “but i can’t do this.”
your smile faded “what do you mean?”
ava looked away
“i can’t go through all of this knowing what happened and pretending it doesn’t bother me. i love you, y/n. you’re my best friend. but i don’t think i can keep being involved in this.”
and that was the last real conversation you had with her.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
a couple days later, you were sitting with mia at lunch. you thought maybe things were finally getting better, you thought maybe you were moving forward.
until she suddenly got quiet.
“y/n?”
you looked up “yeah?”
she took a breath “by the way, me and jungwon are dating now.”
everything stopped.
you didn’t hear the cafeteria anymore, you didn’t hear the conversations around you.
all you could hear was that one sentence replaying in your head.
me and jungwon are dating now.
mia looked at you “i wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else.”
you wanted to say something, anything, but you couldn’t. because somehow, you already knew, and somehow, it still hurt worse hearing it out loud.
“...i’ll see you later,” she said softly.
then she left.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
you don’t remember walking to the bathroom, you don’t remember how long you sat there, you just remember crying, because it wasn’t only about jungwon. it was about losing everyone.
the boy who used to be your first call, the girl who knew every single detail about your feelings for him, the friend group you thought would last forever.
you felt embarrassed for being so affected by it. you wished you could just turn your feelings off and move on like everyone else seemed to, but you couldn’t because you loved them, and that was the hardest part.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
school ended.
summer came.
and you still felt like you were barely holding on. you stopped talking to jungwon, not because you hated him, not because you wanted to, but because every conversation reminded you of what you lost.
you wondered if mia asked him to stop talking to you. you wondered if she felt insecure about how close you two were. you wondered if maybe she saw something between you and jungwon that even you didn’t realize.
but you never asked.
eventually, you stopped trying to find answers. now, you’re trying your best to accept everything.
you tell yourself that people change, you tell yourself that some friendships aren’t meant to last forever, you tell yourself you’re okay, and maybe part of you is but sometimes you still miss the ‘caniac combo’
you miss the late night drives, you miss the stupid jokes, you miss the person who used to know everything about you.
you don’t hate them, you don’t think you ever could.
because no matter how much it hurt, they were still the people who once made you the happiest.
and maybe that’s what hurts the most.
⋆˚✿˖°
an✧˖°. i am laughing so hard right now (im not) i hope you guys liked it, it was kind of rushed and i didn't really wanna get too in detail or else this would've been a whole novel. reblogs are always welcome!! please comment and give feedback!! also, if you like this story and want to see something specific, please send an ask!
Hey can you share my account please, it’s to expose AI “writers” in enhablr
of course! It’s so sad that there are people who create ai stories that gain lots of attention simply by making a prompt.
it takes away from the people who genuinely put their passion and dedication into writing.
i truly believe that ai shouldn’t be allowed in any artistic hobbies, like writing, music, or painting/drawing. those who dedicate many hours to their arts deserve recognition and appreciation, not those who rely on ai.
𝓦𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍⠀ ✶ ⠀with no plans for the rest of the evening and nowhere else to be, you and park sunghoon find yourselves exactly where you always seem to end up: wrapped up in each other.
𝟏𝟕𝟏𝟏 🗯️ ✽ ─── ⏾ 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 park sunghoon ⠀ x ⠀ 𝓯 ! rea ´ ꒳ ` 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : established relationship ˒ porn without a plot ˒ gentle dominance ˒ praise ˒
𝔀𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit sexual content ⋮ 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀, 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 ✿ body worship ˒ implied creampie ˒ unprotected p in v ˒ handjob ˒ dirty talk ˒ oral sex (m. receiving) ˒ handjob ˒ consensual filming ˒
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬⠀ꉂ (˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)
🪽 。 𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 lil write-up that i didn’t proofread from last month !!! ◜ᯅ◝ just one of the many posts i have queued up, ya’ll will hopefully see a proper hoonguin comeback this august ᡣ ︠ 𓈒. .𓈒 ︡𐑠
The room was quiet enough to hear every shift of fabric, every uneven breath, every hesitant movement that seemed impossibly loud in the stillness between you. He stood in front of you, hands curled into loose fists at his sides, like he didn't trust himself to touch you yet.
You were already on your knees.
The metallic clank of his belt landing on the floor cut through the silence like a point of no return.
"Heavy ass belt," you mutter, glancing down at it splayed across the hardwood. Then back up at him, at the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. "Makes sense. Heavy belt for a man with such a heavy cock."
His breath hitched, and you watched the flush crawl from his neck up toward his jaw as you reached for the waistband of his jeans and tugged. He helped, shaky-handed, shoving them down his thighs, and you had to pause for a second because the visual in front of you was genuinely unfair. That V-cut trailing down into his boxers like it was pointing the way on purpose. The gym had done crazy things to this man's body and he had the nerve to stand here acting shy about it.
You pressed your palm flat against his stomach, just to feel the muscle tense under your touch, and he sucked in hard through his teeth. "God, Hoon," you said, dragging your hand down slowly, following that line. "You walk around looking like this? All day? And you expect people to act normal?"
"I don't—" he started, voice already rougher than it was ten seconds ago.
"Shh." You hooked your fingers into his boxers and pulled them down, and his cock sprang free, thick and heavy against his stomach. You made a sound — appreciative, almost a laugh — because you'd been thinking about this all day and the reality was better than the mental image. He was big enough that wrapping your hand around him didn't fully close your grip, and when you gave him one slow stroke he let out a noise that went straight between your own legs.
"Look at me," you said, because his eyes had drifted shut. They opened, dark and half-lidded, pinned to your face. "There you go. Keep them on me. You can record it if you want—I know you want to."
A shaky exhale. He fumbled for his phone on the dresser behind him, nearly knocking over a water bottle. He unlocked it and opened the camera with a thumb that was visibly trembling. He held it angled down at you, and you smiled directly into the lens, slow and shameless, then ran your tongue flat up the underside of his cock from base to tip without breaking eye contact with the camera.
The phone jerked in his grip. A broken groan punched out of his chest.
"Keep it steady, baby," you murmured against him, lips brushing the head, and then you took him into your mouth.
The first pull was slow, taking him in inch by inch and letting him feel every single one. He was thick enough that your jaw ached a little on the way down and you loved it, loved the way your lips had to stretch around him, loved the weight of him on your tongue. You pulled back, swirled your tongue around the tip, tasted salt, then sank back down further than before and felt him hit the back of your throat.
"Oh fuck—" His free hand came down to your jaw, fingers cradling your face. The contrast, the filth of what you were doing and the tenderness of his grip, made you moan around him, and the vibration made his hips stutter forward on instinct before he caught himself. "Sorry—I’m sorry, I—"
"Don't apologize," you pulled off just long enough to say, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his cock, indecently caught on the phone camera. "Fuck my mouth if you want to. I can take it. That's what it's for right now."
A sound came out of him that wasn't quite a word. Then his hand slid from your jaw into your hair, gathered it back out of your face, and he thrust into your mouth, shallow at first, testing, then deeper when you hummed your approval and dug your nails into his thighs. His quads were solid under your grip, tensed and trembling, and you dragged your nails down just enough to leave faint pink lines and he whimpered. The hell? This big, built, gym-sculpted man standing above you whimpering because of your mouth.
You pulled off, gasping, drool on your chin, and looked up at him with the most wrecked, adoring expression you could manage. "You sound so pretty, Hoon. You know that? Hottest fucking sounds I've ever heard."
His chest was heaving. The phone was barely angled right anymore, his arm was shaking too hard. You reached up, took it gently from his hand, set it on the dresser propped against a book so the camera still caught you both, and wrapped your hand around his cock again, stroking slow.
"Come here," he said, voice wrecked. Before you could even respond he was bending down, hooking his arms under yours, and lifting you off the floor like you weighed nothing. It’s as if all those back days and leg days had been building toward this exact moment. You wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct and his hands gripped your thighs.
He carried you three steps to the couch and dropped onto it with you straddling him, and the impact shoved you forward so your core ground against his cock and you both hissed at the same time.
"Mommy—" he breathed against your neck, the word stumbling out like it had been sitting on his tongue all night waiting for permission, and you felt a full-body shiver run through him beneath you.
You pulled back to look at him. Cupped his face with both hands. His eyes were glassy, lips bitten red, hair already messy from where he'd been running his own hand through it. How gorgeous. Absolutely wrecked and absolutely gorgeous.
"Say that again," you told him, thumbs tracing his cheekbones.
"Mommy," he whispered, leaning into your touch, eyes fluttering. "Please—I need—I need and want you so fucking much."
"I know you do, baby. I've got you." You reached between your bodies, lined him up, and sank down onto him in one long, slow roll of your hips.
The stretch punched the air out of both of you. You stilled, full of him, feeling your body clench and adjust, and he dropped his head forward against your chest with a strangled groan, hands fisting the fabric of your top before tugging it up and off so he could press his mouth to your skin instead. He kissed the curve of your breast, the valley between, dragged his lips down the swell of your breasts and back up, like he was mapping every inch he could reach with his mouth.
"You feel so good inside me," you breathed, rolling your hips experimentally — slow, grinding, taking your time. "So big, baby. Fill me up so well. You were made for this."
He moaned against your skin, open-mouthed and sloppy. His hands slid to your waist, guiding your rhythm without taking control, letting you set the pace while he just held on. You started to move, lifting and dropping, finding the angle that made your vision blur, and each time you came down his hips rolled up to meet you and the sound of it, wet and heavy, filled the room.
"Mommy—harder, please—"
You braced your hands on his shoulders and gave him harder. Faster. The couch creaked. His abs flexed under you every time you ground down and you could feel every ridge of them against your clit, the friction building something white-hot in your stomach. His mouth found your nipple and sucked, and you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling, and he groaned around you like the pull was a gift.
"Good boy," you said, breathless. "Taking it so well. Look at you—look at this body, Hoon, all this muscle and you're shaking underneath me. All that work at the gym just to fall apart in my pussy."
A broken, pitchy moan. His hips snapped up harder, losing the rhythm, chasing it.
"I'm—close, I'm close, please, can I—"
"Inside," you commanded, grinding down in a tight circle that made his whole body bow off the couch. "Come inside me. Fuck, give me everything. You've earned it, baby, you've been so good."
Three more uneven thrusts and he came with a sound that cracked open in his chest, your name tangled up with "mommy" and something wordless. You felt him spill inside you, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs as his whole body locked and shuddered. You rode him through it, slower now, milking every last pulse out of him while he whined from oversensitivity, until he finally went limp against the couch back, chest heaving, eyes unfocused, pretty and ruined underneath you.
You lifted off him slowly, wincing at the loss, and felt him slip out of you followed by the warm trickle of his cum dripping onto his stomach. He twitched at the sensation, too spent to do anything but watch you through heavy lids.
You reached down, swiped two fingers through the mess on his abdomen, his and yours mixed together, and brought them to his mouth.
"Open," you said softly.
He did, without hesitation, lips parting so you could press your fingers past them and onto his tongue. He closed his mouth around them and sucked, cleaning them thoroughly, eyes on yours the whole time, and when you pulled your hand back a thin string of saliva and cum connected your fingers to his lip before it broke.
You laughed. Light, breathless, genuinely delighted.
"What a dirty boy."
He let out a hazy, fucked-out laugh of his own, still trying to catch his breath, and you leaned down and kissed him, slow and sweet, he reached up to cradle the back of your head with a hand that was finally steady again, holding you there like he'd happily stay under you forever.
🎹 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ഒ or nah (remix) by ty dolla $ign (ft. the weeknd, wiz khalifa, and mustard)
✷ NOTE : thank you all so, so much for reading ! i hope you enjoyed this little world for a while ♡ all of this is purely a work of fiction & doesn’t reflect reality at all . . likes, reblogs, and feedback are deeply cherished and very, very appreciated on here !
I wanted to know if you take requests, and if you do, I have one!
Could you write a slow-burn, cute Omegaverse au with Junwon, please?
He’s an alpha who meets his omega (the reader), and while he’s courting her, other alphas (and even betas—no prejudice here!) keep coming after her and hitting on her (and maybe even flirting with her, too)
This makes him get really jealous and territorial (but without being toxic!)
hii!!! thank you so much for sending an ask, im good, i hope your doing great aswell 😊😊
i could try, but i’m not fully comfortable writing a fic about the omegaverse just because i don’t really know much about it 😭
but i could try looking it up and seeing what i can do!
do you support heeseung or no? just asking not trying to be weird
i do! I absolutely love ride or die and overflow! I can’t wait for his full album release. I’m glad he was able to pursue his dreams and follow his vision regarding music 😊
i’m so sorry i haven’t written anything in a couple days!
I have lots of ideas; however, I’ve been very busy lately, and on top of that, I twisted my wrist playing softball… so I’ve just been kind of trying to recover! 😭
i promise fics will be out as soon as i finish writing! 😊😊
a lot of people have been requesting ni-ki twt links so here they are!! pls look at the warning below and proceed with caution. also used riki instead of ni-ki incase people actually care abt that (hope you don’t).. there’s ur warning lol!!!
cw: links contain real porn, please watch with caution. mixes of soft and hard kinks <3
❀࿐ NISHIMURA RIKI LINKS
𖦹 riki loves fucking older women just because he can show them that he may be younger and have less experience but his dick is big and he knows how to use it and use you.
𖦹 riki loves loves loves tying you up. the thrill he gets from seeing you struggle while he’s fucking you. bonus if you have a blindfold on because it makes you more sensitive when he touches and sucks on your nipples.
𖦹 when riki gets tired nobody knows why but he immediately gets horny. like riding him til he cums is mandatory before he goes to sleep, or else he’ll wake up in the middle of the night and not go back to sleep (which isn’t good).
𖦹 engene have been trying to figure out rikis pre-show ritual for the longest time. to bad only you know what it is. how he his face in your ass while the others are practicing choreo.
𖦹 riki using his long fingers to stretch you before you take him because he knows he’s big and he won’t ever shut up about it. all cocky and annoying. he just has to mention how cute you long split open in front of him, ass and pussy out for only him.
𖦹 making out with riki is literally the best thing ever. he always knows how to make you cum off kissing alone. grinding on his all while his hands are at the back of your neck, pushing you more and more into the kiss, until it gets super deep.
𖦹 when riki eats you out he almost immediately gets pussy drunk. not able to hold in his deep moans, because you just taste so good on his tongue. trying to hurry and get you to cum so he can lick you clean.
𖦹 riki 100% has a breeding kink and you don’t know how you never noticed. can’t even mention the thought of MAYBE having a kid with him in the future because he’s immediately on top of you asking how many times you want him to cum inside and make your supposed dreams come true.
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blakekathryn
dailybridgerton
areudirty
germansingergirl
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
stormborns
theartofmadeline
gracieabrams
