the xdh fandom generally is not parasocial if you think this is parasocial u have NOT seen cortis fandom☠️ xdh just has alot of sex appeal and its natural we are sexually attracted to them and would like to imagine it Its not like we are walking up to them and taking them away from the public eye let us goon omg
aren’t the members of cortis all minors?! jesus christ
hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim
☆ youtuber! super down bad! bf! jake x youtuber! fem! reader
☆summary: jake sim was youtube's cut-throat, horror creator, known for his dark video style. meanwhile, you were the cutesy beauty vlogger, lighting up every algorithmically generated home page you touched. no one would have expected you two vastly different people to know each other, let alone be in a long-term relationship.
☆ genre: fluff, youtuber! au, secret dating! au, established relationship, suggestive, im sorry im never letting the ytber au go, cutesy!reader, jake is SO down bad its kinda painful #patheticmen
☆warning(s): no, just fluffy, also reader is really feminine and girly in this
☆ word count: 13.4k words
☆ wrote half of this in spanish class so im sorry if there are mistakes, first time writing established relationship in full, kinda nervy
Jake Sim was many things.
One of the most popular and well-respected content creators on Youtube was one of them.
As Jake's nimble fingers darted across his keyboard, his other hand rested firmly on his mouth, he thought that the blue light emitting from his computer screen should burn his eyes. Except, it didn't. Despite what most people thought, 90% of being Youtuber was just simply staring at a computer screen, rather than being in front of a camera lens. The man felt his nose prickle before he let out a soundless, but satisfying, yawn. He leaned back against his office chair, stretching his neck and arms before he rubbed his eyes.
There was a reason that he was an extremely respected creator on Youtube.
For one, the production quality of his videos were high. Down to the Closed Captions or his camera's grain, Jake's attention to detail was immaculate. Not to mention, the content itself was magnificent.
Whenever people asked Jake what he did for work, it was hard for him to answer.
He'd said that he made horror content, but he'd only earned incredulous looks, like he was a madman. Even then, "horror" content wasn't the correct description.
In short, Jake liked to make videos about obscure things. Which just so happened to be a little spooky. Sketchy true crime cases, searches for lost media, strange Internet phenomena, government cover-ups— Name anything a little bit eerie and Jake probably already covered something of that sort on his channel. Given the nature of his content, Jake almost always maintained a serious tone, but when the opportunity came to offer his opinion, he liked to relay it in a straightforward way.
Another reason why he was so regarded was because of his content style. He preferred using darker colors, having a crisp microphone that picked up every rasp of his deeper voice. When he had camera shots, Jake liked to be in a dimly lit room. Unfortunately, his room was dark, too.
This all combined together to create a singular image for Jake: the cool, high-quality, but a little bit scary, guy that likes to make videos about scary topics.
Now cracking his knuckles, Jake sucked in a sharp breath. Although he could easily export his upcoming video now and upload it, garnering millions of views, he refused to. There was something missing from it; it needed a little umph, a little embellishment to really pull things together. If there was one thing about Jake, it was that he'd put quality over quantity any day.
Jake is torn out of his thoughts when his phone, long forgotten next to his mouse, lit up. Usually, when he worked long afternoons like this, he silenced his phones in order to maintain focus.
However, there was always one exception.
You.
pretty girl: hi babe, do you think you can help me take promo pictures later?
The moment that Jake saw your contact show up, he picked up his phone immediately. His fingers tapped his screen, quickly responding to you.
me: yeah i can do it rn if you want
pretty girl: if youre busy, it doesn't need to be today, it can be tomorrow or something
pretty girl: oh
pretty girl: are you sure?
Of course he was.
Jake was already shutting off his monitor, grabbing his keys and shoving his feet into his shoes at your first message.
me: yeah i'll come over right now
You were Jake Sim's girlfriend. But other than the people in your personal life, no one else knew that.
Not that either of you minded.
Like Jake, you were a Youtuber. Except, your community was the complete opposite from his.
Your niche was cute makeup and lifestyle. Your videos had cute, blushy sets, characterized by cute plushies in the background and pretty, pink decorations. When you weren't making makeup tutorials or "get ready with me's," you were giving your viewers small sneak-peeks into your life. Whether it be your rosy morning skincare, or your sunny afternoon cooking attempts, or your illuminated late night thoughts, your content was light-hearted, soft, and personable.
And if you weren't doing any of those things, you were modeling.
You were a beauty influencer, so you had sponsors from different makeup companies and such. What was most distinguishable from your personal brand was that you were one of Sanrio's biggest ambassadors. If there was someone that was the living embodiment of Hello Kitty, it was you.
Your personability, and your ability to feel authentic to your viewers, was a key factor in your large viewerbase. And what contributed to that the most was the fact that you had no idea how to use a camera. One would think that a content creator would know how to use a camera, but you were somehow the exception.
Not a problem!
Because you had your boyfriend, Jake!
Who was basically the master of content creation and film, in your opinion.
"Jakey!" you pounced on your boyfriend the moment he appeared at your apartment doorway. You threw your arms around his neck, immediately peppering his neck and cheeks with kisses. You heard him let out a few chuckles, feeling the rumble of his strong chest as he did.
"Geez, babe, let me take my shoes off first," Jake teased you, taking in your sweet strawberry perfume. You immediately peeled yourself off of him, your lips forming a cute frown.
"Shut up," you murmured, punching him on the arm while you jutted your bottom lip out. The lip tint and gloss on them shined, which made Jake grin. And when you noticed that he was staring at your lips, you gave him a gentle shove before saying again, “Shut up, Jakey.”
There it was, his favorite thing about you.
You were so, very, really, undeniably, mean to him.
Okay, that sounded weird.
But it was the truth.
Your relationship could be summed up in a few words—
You were just the cutest, and could barely contain your feelings for Jake, so you'd get all cuddly and affectionate with him. He'd tease you about it, so you'd get all shy and flustered, and you would begin to be mean to him. You'd call him stupid or annoying, and you'd tell him to go away but make no effort to resist his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And then he would get to tease you more, until you were so embarrassed that you relented and let him kiss you.
How could he not resist teasing you?
You were always so pretty, with makeup or not, and it was easy to tease you since you got embarrassed so easily.
Even if he was holding his most expensive camera in his hands, he'd still let you pounce on him, if it meant that he got one extra kiss from you.
You led him to your bedroom. It had the same sweet, strawberry scent as you. Your room was pink, and along the walls were shelves, all filled with the many, many plushies that Jake bought you. Plopping onto your bed, Jake watched as you dug around your filming desk.
"Sooo," he started, "You're gonna do a promotional post on Instagram?"
You hummed. Sanrio recently launched a new line of lip tints, and they sent you their newest ones to review and promote.
"I already made a review, and it's going to go up later," you said, digging through your drawers. "I want to make a promo post, too, y'know?"
You let out an 'a-ha!' as you found what you were looking for. It was a tube of lip-tint, the newest one from the collection. You then touched up your makeup a little more.
Jake watched you in awe. The way you applied lip gloss and brushed setting powder (or was it blush? he didn't know anything about makeup) onto your cheeks was so mesmerizing, as you weren't already so captivating to him.
Finally, you stood up, straightening out your outfit. You puckered your lips, and when you noticed Jake staring at you, you gave him a little twirl.
"How do I look?" you asked.
Jake, with his camera in hand, pointed the lens at you. He looked through the viewfinder.
"Beautiful."
As always.
The shoot went smoothly. As you always did when Jake was your photographer, the two of you drove to the film studio, renting out a room for a good hour. Jake was a pro with the camera and you were an even bigger pro at modeling. Other than a few compositional edits or changes in exposure, you and Jake were done as soon as you started. The two of you decided that you’d go back to your place, cook dinner together, and maybe watch a movie.
Except that got delayed.
“Y-You’re so annoying, Jake,” you struggled out. You were in the back seat of your car, legs thrown over your boyfriend’s hips, his soft lips connected to your neck. Your fingers gently tugged on his hair, you yourself pressing soft pecks against his forehead and temples. It started because you gave Jake a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you,’ which spiraled into a makeout session in your car.
“What,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flickering up to yours. “You said you’d do anything to express your thanks for me.”
Jake kissed your neck again, before trailing up your throat to your jaw. Your fingers raked through his soft hair, pushing his dark locks out of his face so that you could see his face clearly. Jake reached up, took your hand out of his hair, and instead held your palm against his cheek, nuzzling into your warm hand. The way your eyes widened into saucers, lips parting, in response made the man’s lips curve upward.
“W-Well I thought you’d ask me to hug you… or something,” you said sheepishly, your voice soft as your boyfriend’s actions flustered you.
Jake grinned to himself internally before pulling away from you altogether.
“Then do you want to stop?” Your eyes widened a fraction. “Then, let’s go hom—“
“No!” you cut him off, your hands squeezing his shoulders. “Let’s not!”
You stared at him, brows furrowed, for a few moments, before you noticed the growing grin on your boyfriend’s face. That look you knew too well, the one that said that he was going to tease the everlasting fuck out of you.
Jake pulled you in by the waist, close enough so that your chests touched, noses almost brushing against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off your face, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“You sure you don’t wanna stop?” His voice was teasing, but you knew better. The earnest look in his eyes, you stared into yours, was filled with sincerity. He gave your waist a squeeze, almost as if to ask, “Do you actually want this?”
“Yes, Jakey,” you breathed against his lips, matter-of-factly. “I don’t wanna stop.”
The corner of his lips begin to lift.
“So you better kiss me,” you quipped, gripping his shoulders.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he rasped back, before attacking your lips.
(Later, when you were done, you two went home and went about your plan for the night. Except, you had to yell at Jake to go wash his face, because the sight of your lipstick at the corner of his lips was too much for you to take.)
"Hi, everyone!" you greeted the camera, folding your hands in your lap. With your thick, pink, knit sweater's sleeves falling over your wrists, you shot the lens a pretty smile. It was another normal day on the job of making content.
"As you guys know, VidCon is coming up soon." You pulled your makeup pouch toward your chest, leaning against the edge of your filming desk. "So, let's pack with me!"
Vidcon was an event for people to meet all of their favorite Youtubers. This year, you were invited to be one of the featured creators, given your popularity. As you filmed your "Pack with Me!" vlog, surrounded by ring lights aided by your windows cracked open, you recalled the email you had sent earlier, squeezing your eyes shut.
You see, Jake and you were both invited to VidCon. Since no one else, not even Youtube the corporation or your fellow Youtubers, knew that you guys were dating, Jake and you were given vastly different things. Youtube booked an entire hotel complex for all of its creators, and unfortunately, your room was located 10 floors below Jake's room. And worse, your booths and events were so far apart from each other that you probably wouldn't even see your boyfriend even if he decided to traverse the Convention.
That's what you got for being vastly different content creators.
This year would be the first year that you and Jake got invited to VidCon, and you two wanted to share this experience with each other as much as possible.
Which is why you just shot Youtube one of the most embarrassing emails of your life.
"Hi, Youtube. The hotel complex you booked has a bar, and it is much closer to the top than the bottom. I really want to visit that bar. Can I request a room change so that my room is maybe on the 15th or 16th floors?" except add more formalities and much more discreet language, and that was the email you sent to your employers. You knew that it wouldn't be hard, and that the Youtube PR manager wouldn't reject your request. After all, you were the Sanrio beauty girl. Regardless, you'd gotten a response about an hour ago, and your request was approved, luckily.
As you continued talking to your camera, folding your clothes neatly while chatting to your viewers about updates in your life, you thought about what you and Jake should do at VidCon. It was in the LA area, but you definitely wanted to visit other places in Southern California.
It was no surprise that you and Jake had been more than touchy and close to each other. You were dating. Still, butterflies formed in your stomach as you thought about what you would do with him. Your face heated up at the thought of you and him spending time together in the hotel's rooftop hot-tub. The idea of him sneaking in your room at night, warming you up and pepperinging your cheeks with kisses, made your heart rate speed up, and you could only relish in the thought of exploring LA, Irvine, or wherever Jake wanted to take you with him.
You were a grown woman with a job and responsibilities, but the mere thought of your boyfriend being within the same vicinity as you made you nervous.
Just as you finished folding your clothes, you heard your front door crack open.
"Babe?" you hear Jake's voice call out your name. You turn off your camera to greet him, swearing to forget all of the thoughts you just had. Except, the moment that you locked eyes with him, all determination to not be teased left your body. Your lips wobbled, trying to bite back that stupid, bashful, and lovesick smile that made its way onto your face when you thought about Jake, but your eyes gave it all away. Instead of throwing yourself at him like you usually did, you only reached for the hem of his black T-shirt, playing with it sheepishly.
You mumbled a small, "Hi."
You could feel Jake staring at you, and you could hear the way his lips curve into a smug, shit-eating grin.
"Shut up," you told him, your eyebrows crashing together.
"Baby, I didn't even say anything," Jake said, his hands finding their place on your lower back.
You felt shy and exposed before him. "Well, I know you're going to say something."
Jake grasped your chin, gently making you look at him. You tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible to avoid those dreamy, caramel eyes. Then, he took your face with both his hands, leaning in.
Was he going to kiss you? Oh my god, he was! Quick! What do you do? You felt like you were going to melt.
Instinctively, your hands tightened on the hem of his shirt, the black fabric scrunching in your fists. You closed your eyes, your lips softly puckering. You could feel him coming closer and closer, until his breath fanned your cheek.
As if he hadn't kissed you a million times before, your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest.
Jake ghosted his lips over yours, inching just close enough that he could brush his lip against yours.
And then, he pulled away from you. He took off his shoes, placed down his keys, and made his way into your bedroom, leaving you there standing alone.
Heat spread across your face and neck and ears as you realized your boyfriend had just teased you once again. You hid your face in your palms, letting out a small whine of embarrassment, before recollecting yourself and joining your boyfriend.
"Woah, what's going on here, babe?" Jake asked, standing at your bedroom doorway.
"Oh." There was clothes and film equipment sprawled across your floor and bed. "I was filming a video."
You saw Jake's expression twitch, before he took your hands in his.
"My bad, was I interrupting something?" He was sincere in how his face showed a small drop of guilt for disrupting your filming. How could someone be such a tease one moment yet be so genuine the next?
"No, it's okay, Jakey," you said. "I mean, I need to finish my video, but I don't mind if you're around."
And that's how you found yourself trying not to burst out laughing as you filmed your video. Jake kept making funny faces at you, that goofy grin growing on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.
"Jake, stop making faces!" you laughed, throwing a shirt at him.
He dodged it, throwing his head back into one of the plushies that he bought you. "I'm not doing anything!"
You threw another shirt at him, this time hitting him square in the face. Instead of admitting defeat, Jake only grabbed your shirt, pulling the fabric to his nose and taking a long, dramatic, sniff.
"You smell sooooo good, babe," he said, ignoring your contorted expression, "I think I'm gonna keep this. You won't mind, right?"
"Ugh, Jaaaaakee!"
You plopped on top of him in bed. You felt his chest rumble as chuckles left his lips, rolling your eyes at him. You gave his chest a smack, a pout forming on your lips.
"You're so annoying," you mumbled as his hands slithered up to your hips. He gave your ass a pat, gesturing you to adjust your position. You did, sitting up so that you straddled your boyfriend's hips.
"And you're so pretty," he said, squeezing your hipbone.
"Let go of me," you poked him in the chest, but made no attempt to get off of him.
"No."
"I need to finish my video," you pouted, still not moving to get off of him.
"I don't care." Jake instead sat up on his elbows, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his face getting suspiciously close to your boobs. "Just lay with me."
Your fingers ran through his dark locks, before giving them a tug towards your chest. Jake laid his cheek against your boobs like they were pillows, arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and neck. The next thing you knew, he was pressing sticky kisses against your chest and neck, soft gasps escaping your lips.
"Sorry, babe," he muttered against the shell of your ear, "I just can't resist you."
You let out a soft "ahhh!" when he bit down on your skin, his teeth brushing against the nape of your neck. Jake briefly pulled away, a smirk making its way onto his face as he admired the red-purple mark on your neck.
"You're just too addicting."
Long story short, your video was still finished and uploaded. As Jake edited his video, he let yours play in the background, your bright voice illuminating his dark room. Somehow, your voice was the only thing that made him focus.
However, when he heard a familiar laugh— his laugh— in your video, Jake stopped in his tracks.
His mind flashed back to what happened the other day in your apartment, when he interrupted you during your filming.
"I don't know if I turned off my camera, Jake," you had purred as Jake's tongue dipped into your collarbone. At that point, both you and him were shirtless, hair disheveled and pupils blown out with desire. Jake remembered the electricity that ran through him as those words left your lips.
"Am I supposed to care?" he had muttered, trailing kisses down your chest. "If they hear us, that's not my problem."
It was almost like you, who edited your video, added that clip to tease him.
Immediately, his cheeks began turning the brightest shade of red possible. If you were here, he would have only coughed and looked away shyly, but since he was alone, his embarrassment spread across his face like a wildfire. Jake almost never showed it when he was flustered, at least when he was around you.
He hid his face in his palms, sucking in a sharp breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, warmth prickling his skin. You were going to be the death of him. He let out a small, lovesick giggle, one that his friends would flame him for. He couldn't help it, not if it was you.
When he read the comments, still flustered out of his mind, he felt a twinge of disappointment when no one seemed to notice him.
For some reason, Jake couldn’t help but want people to know that you were his. He knew that you and him kept your relationship private to preserve it, but he still wanted to show you off.
Except, one comment caught his eye.
“Wait, does [Name] have a boyfriend? Who laughed at 6:34?” it read. Jake’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. The warmth that spread across his chest as his lips pulled upwards. He almost wanted to jump on his bed and roll around while giggling like a schoolgirl, but he contained himself.
At the corner of his eye, Jake spotted a certain plushie.
As you were a partner of Sanrio, for a time there was a Limited Edition [Name] plushie, clad in pink with a cute, ruffle-lace bow to top it all off. Of course he bought one the moment it launched. Jake preferred his room to be completely dark and black, but he liked to keep that plushie on his bed, and although he’d never admit it, he hugged it when he slept if you weren’t with him.
Would it be wrong of him to tease you back? After all, Jake still had to film the brand deal for his new video.
Would it hurt to position the plushie just enough so that it was in frame?
So that maybe someone would see it.
Vidcon came crashing on you and Jake like a meteor, and before the two of you knew it, you were in the venue, wringing your fingers as the event commenced.
Sometimes, it was difficult for you to comprehend the level of your popularity. Sure, the numbers that Youtube loved to display for you told you that you had millions watching you, but mere numerical figures were simply not enough for you to wrap your mind around.
Your schedule that day was simple: you were going to have a booth that you'd tend to for an hour or two, where your fans could take pictures with you and take a few freebies with them. Then, you'd go to your main event, which was in a smaller venue.
At your booth, where you sat currently, your personal table was set up in a very special way: your table was pink, and covered in a lacy, white tablecloth. Even the wall behind you was specifically painted pink and decorated with various Sanrio-esque decorations. You had stickers that you'd give out, as well as a Limited Edition Vidcon Sanrio plushie of you that people could buy. The pink polaroid decorated with Hello Kitty stickers hung around your neck with a pink lanyard. You genuinely looked like Sanrio and Hello Kitty vomited all over you, but you didn't mind. And plus, that didn't matter, because you were cute either way.
You were hit with pure surprise as multiple groups of fans came your way. The amount of people that came to you, rambling nervously about how much they loved you, how much they looked up to you, how much you inspired them and made their days better, made you feel light-headed. And very warm inside.
Jake was the one that did the talking for you (thank goodness!), but for some reason, you pushed through your usual shyness, instead wanting for people to come up to you and talk.
Your face lit up as one of your fans, a girl that looked around your age, maybe only a few years younger than you, approached you. You could tell by the Sanrio sticker of you on her phone case that she was most definitely here for you.
"Oh my gosh, hi [Name]!" She gazed at you with wide, glimmering eyes.
Your initial reaction was surprise, but then you broke out into a smile. You cocked your head, fingers gripping the hem of your dress, both nervous and excited. "Hi, there."
You fan took one look at your face, and squealed. The way that she giggled, bouncing on her feet as she fangirled over you made warmth spread across your cheeks, getting shy and looking down briefly.
"I'm sorry, [Name]!" Your fan couldn't stop giggling, which you thought was very cute. It was now that you noticed the camera in your hand. "I just really love your content, and I'm just so excited to meet you in real life!"
You blinked at her a few times, before you smile only widened.
"Don't worry about it!" you said, taking her free hand in yours. Your shyness melted away as your fan squealed again. "It really means a lot to me that you came out here to personally see me."
Your eyes flickered over to her camera, squeezing her hand and motioning to it with your other. "Can I...?"
She nodded enthusiastically, so you took her camera. Turn on the 'photo' setting, you posed for the camera, taking multiple pictures of yourself for her. You hoped that that would make up for your shyness. The two of you hugged, and you took many polaroids for her.
Almost immediately, after she left, you were tagged in a Twitter thread. It was that fan, reporting her experience with you.
"She was so much prettier in real life, I thought I was in heaven," her tweets detailed, "And [Name] was so sweet! It felt like I was meeting the real life Hello Kitty."
She posted the pictures you took on her camera, and then the videos. You couldn't help but grin like an idiot, especially at the comments (and the rapidly-accumulating likes and retweets).
"The way [Name] gets so shy is so cute!"
"I don't really watch beauty content but I love [Name] so much."
"She's like an actual Disney Princess."
You loved your fans, you really did. You were grateful for them, and you thought they were very cute.
You were excited to see how Vidcon would treat you.
Jake was fighting.
He was fighting demons, wars, the little voices in his head.
Did you have to look so pretty today?
Jake's own event was an entire venue away from yours. He had a few events, so after his first one, he took a small break, where he looked through his notifications.
Of course, the first thing he looked at was your texts. They were from a while ago, during his show when he didn't have his phone on him, so he responded to them now. He smiled at your cute texts, expressing how excited and happy you were. His heart jumped out of his chest when he saw the selfie you sent him: there you were, in all your cutesy Sanrio glory, smiling so prettily for him. Jake had to clasp his face to hide the stupid, love-struck grin that bled onto his face.
"Oi, what're you giggling about?" Jake was interrupted by Jay, another one of his fellow horror Youtubers.
Jake immediately wiped his expression clean. "Nothing."
When he glanced back at his phone, that dumb grin began to form again.
Jay groaned. "This is so weird. It's like watching Batman smile."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake scoffed.
"I'm sayin' that you're basically Youtube's Batman," Jay scrunched his nose, "And it's weird seein' you all... smiley and stuff."
"I literally smiled earlier!"
"Not in the way that you did just now. I have a bad feeling about it."
"Shut up!"
Jake really tried his best to swallow back his pure admiration for you as he opened his phone screen again, but he failed miserably.
He wished he could see you right now. He loved to see his fans, he loved to talk to them about their shared interest: all things horror and obscure.
But Jake missed you right now.
His heart plummeted to his stomach, however, when he logged onto Twitter, and saw the worst hashtag he could ever think of: #[Name]isSoCute.
He agreed with it. No, he embraced that sentiment with every molecule in his being.
Just... he wished that he could see you right now. When he checked the tag and saw all the cute pictures that people took of you and the sweet experiences they had with you, he frowned— That should be him!
However, Jake actually saw the worst thing to ever materialize when he saw the top video under the tag.
It was a shaky video, starting off with a teenage boy walking up to you. In the background, he could hear your pretty voice in the background, exchanging small greetings and words with the poster. Jake was almost lost in his sheer love for you when his eyes narrowed. The boy in the video let out a little chuckle, before dropping a cheesy pick-up line on you.
"[Name], if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber." What made it worse was that you only giggled, leading the boy to drop a few other dumb pick-up lines. The camera panned up to you, showing you all smiley and bashful. Then, you and the boy hugged, before taking a few polaroids together.
Jake almost snapped his phone in half.
He understood better than anyone that you were a content creator just like him. It was part of the job to interact with fans, and given your character, of course you were sweet to them. He could tell that you were perfectly comfortable in the video, and that the kid probably was just joking around with his favorite Youtuber.
But did that stop Jake from mentally lambasting every single aspect of the video? Absolutely not.
Shaky camera, probably filmed on a phone, Jake's hands balled into fists, Fucked up aperture, exposure to low, bad mic.
Was he being a little immature? Yes, and Jake knew that.
Though, Jake would admit that he agreed with a lot of comments and retweets under that post, hearting many of them in agreement.
"[Name] is such a cutie!" one read.
Absolutely.
"I love her so much," another read.
Me too, Jake thought.
"I want her so bad."
Just as Jake's finger hovered over the 'heart' button, he let out a small hmph. Did it annoy him that other people wanted you? Yes. But did he disagree with the comment? Nope. He pressed the "like" button.
He wanted to see you so bad. As Jake was queued up on stage, ready for his second event, he hoped that he could see you soon.
And his wish came true a few hours later.
It was now past noon, and Vidcon was in its (unofficial) intermission period, where a lot of the creators were now taking breaks. As Jake traversed the convention, he texted you trying to find a spot where the two of you could meet.
He passed the many booths and venues of his fellow Youtubers. The layout was unique in the way that Youtubers of similar genres were placed in similar areas. So when he started seeing Youtubers with bright makeup and problematic pasts, Jake knew that he was near you.
And lo and behold, soon he found you. Under the fluorescent light, you still glowed. There was some kind of halo around you as you turned over your shoulder, your face instantly brightening up as you spotted your boyfriend. You had a few fans that you were talking to at the moment, so you tended to them first, while Jake made his way over to you.
You and Jake agreed that you wouldn't make your relationship too obvious at Vidcon, but all of that was left forgotten the moment that Jake saw you.
However, as you ran up to him, people couldn't help but stop and stare.
Why wouldn't they? You were the living embodiment of Sanrio, that one Hello Kitty girl, whereas Jake was that one guy that made scary content and was often shrouded in darkness, dubbed as Youtube's personal Batman. Absolutely no one would have expected to see the two of you interacting with one another, let alone be within the same vicinity.
"Hi, Jakey," you smiled up at him, and Jake thought that he could die right there. With the amount of people staring, Jake had to restrain himself from throwing his arms around you and hugging you.
"Hey, baby," he grinned.
Before either of you could do anything, you and Jake were interrupted by a shrill squeal. You whipped your heads around to see a young girl and her older brother, who still looked relatively young. They explained nervously that the girl liked your content, while the brother liked Jake's content. They were expecting to scour in order for each of them to meet either of you, but were surprised to see you and Jake in one place.
You and Jake took a few pictures with them, both individually. Though, the two of them requested a picture with both you and Jake in the same frame, which you happily did.
When they left, you and Jake shared a look, before going off together.
Vidcon Day 1: Over.
Jake returned to his hotel room, too tired to do anything other than wash up and order room service.
As Jake laid in his half-hard hotel mattress, he scrolled through his phone. He was tagged in a lot of pictures and tweets, and he found himself grinning at a lot of the sweet words his fans left. Although he was tired, he could definitely do this a few more times, feeling invigorated by his fans.
As he scrolled, the trending Twitter hashtag caught his eye.
#HelloKittyMeetsBatman.
Interesting name, he thought as he clicked on it.
Jake's heart skipped a beat as he saw what came up.
Apparently, people were extremely surprised to see you and Jake so close to each other.
There were so many pictures of you and him taken together from afar just from that one instance earlier, from multiple different angles and distances. Jake would admit, the way he was dressed in all black while you were dressed in cute pinks and whites was almost laughable.
What truly caught his attention were the captions of all these pictures.
"Craziest crossover of 2024."
"I'm crying they legitimately look like Hello Kitty and Batman."
"Jake Sim and [Name] interacting was not on my Vidcon 2024 bingo card."
"This is like seeing two worlds collide, absolutely wild but I'm pleasantly surprised."
For the most part, it seemed like everyone just thought that you and Jake were friends, but it was still a little funny how taken aback the entire internet was.
Then, he saw the picture of you, him, and those two kids together.
"They look like a family," was one of the most popular retweets under that post.
Family.
That word rang through Jake's head, before he buried his face in one of the pillows, giggling to himself. He felt a little ridiculous getting so excited over such a small comment, but he couldn't help it. He felt so giddy inside at the thought of having a family with you, and felt even giddier knowing that people could see it, too.
Suddenly, his phone rang. Jake wasn't going to answer it, too caught up in his flustered-ness, but when he realized that it was you, he quickly cleared his throat, instinctively straightening out his hair (because what if he accidentally turns on his camera?-- he needed to look good for you!).
"Baby," he greeted suavely, as if he wasn't just giggling like a schoolgirl seconds ago.
Maybe it was the fact that it was already getting late, or the fact that Jake barely saw you today, or the fact that you were just so goddamn perfect, but your voice sounded so attractive in that moment.
"Jakeyyy," you whined. "Come over."
His chest was already throbbing but Jake played it cool.
He chuckled. "What for?"
"I miss you," he could hear the pout in your voice. "And I want your attention."
It was rare for you to be so direct with him, and while Jake wanted to melt on the spot, he wanted to tease you a bit longer.
"What's wrong with just being on the phone with me?" Jake's lips pulled into a smirk. "You can just talk to me like this."
"Noooo," you said. "I want— I want you."
Jake tried his best to not crumble then and there, but it was too hard.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Okay then, baby. I'll come over right now."
He didn't miss the cute little "yay!" you let out before you hung up.
You were going to be the death of him.
"Eep! Jake, what are you doing here—?!”
You’re cut off when you realized that you were, in fact, backstage of one of your events. Today was the second day of Vidcon, and you had just finished up your first event. As you went backstage, carrying the little bags of gifts that your fans got you, you didn’t expect your own boyfriend to be waiting back there for you.
“Hey there, Princess,” he said cheekily, sprawled across the backstage couch. "Miss me?"
He opened his arms up, and you instinctively crawled into them, sitting on his lap and sliding your arms around his neck.
As you did, you eyed him up and down.
Clad in black as always, he wore a black button-up, paired with black slacks, a black belt, and a loose, black tie. That's right: today, Jake was going to have a panel with a whole bunch of other horror creators, ones that transcended the internet— authors, authors that Jake spent his whole life reading and looking up to, which explained why he was dressed significantly more proper today than yesterday.
The way his shirt fit his chest and hugged his shoulders made it hard for you to not stare, and the way that it wasn't buttoned at the top, revealing his honey-tan collarbones, mixed with the scent of his rich cologne, made you feel dizzy.
"Ay, are you checkin' me out?"
On any other day, you'd be embarrassed, maybe even pushing him away, but today, you only nodded your head, humming mindlessly in agreement.
Jake blinked at you, before he pulled you in by the waist so that you were flushed against his chest completely.
"Kiss me," you mumbled, pushing his dark bangs away from his face.
Jake chuckled, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles. "What's with you these days? Getting so bold."
You only leaned into his touch. Maybe it was sometime in the LA air, or maybe it was the vigor that your fans gave you earlier, but all you could do was look at your boyfriend with glossy, wide eyes innocently, watching the way that his resolve trembled.
"Shit," Jake cursed under his breath. "Hold on—"
He grabbed your hips, then tilted your chin so that he could have a better angle. Your lips crashed into one another. Not in the way that a meteor would crash into Earth's delicate atmosphere, but in the way that gentle sea waves crashed onto themselves, dark folds of blue creasing over each other, only to brush up against the foamy seashore, none the wiser.
Jake liked the taste of your lip gloss; it tasted sweet, but not nearly as sweet as you, hungrily squeezing your hips in his hands. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, earning a squeal from you, who tugged on his hair.
When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, chests heaving not for air, but for each other. You stared at each other for a few moments, losing time in each other's eyes, when your eyes trailed down.
God, the button-up and tie were going to drive you crazy.
Without thought, your fingers twirled around his tie, slinking up his chest before you yanked him harshly, jerking Jake toward you abruptly.
In a moment of pure, unadulterated boldness, you attacked his neck, laying sticky kisses all across his skin. One hand laced itself in Jake's hair, keeping a firm hold of his tilted head, while your other hand crept around the buttons of his shirt.
Each soft sigh that Jake let out made you only press more kisses on him. When he let out one particularly loud whine, his arm jerking up to grab at the couch's armrest, you knew that you found the sensitive spot on his neck. You pressed another kiss on that spot, this time sinking your teeth into his skin. The hickey was dark and purple, and when you ran your tongue over it, Jake's hands shot to your hips again.
"Shit, [Name], wait a sec—"
Skillfully, your fingers began to slowly unbutton Jake's shirt, just enough that you could see more of his chest.
Your head was feeling fuzzy now, drunk off your desire for him. The way he threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp of air he took in, curses falling from his lips, sent electricity coursing through your body.
When you unbuttoned the last button, you noticed the way Jake's eyes were squeezed shut, his other arm resting over them, hands balled into fists as his desperation for you increased.
"Jakey," you said. Jake was going to go mad, the way your voice was so soft and innocent as it said his name, all the while you were kissing and touching him in ways that made him go light-headed. He squeezed his eyes shut, another whimper escaping his lips. If he looked you in the eye right now, he was sure that he'd burst. "I want you to look at me."
He couldn't refuse you. Immediately, he opened his eyes, the arm strewn over his face dropping back to its position on your hips.
If he didn't die by combustion, Jake was certain that he'd die now— Your pupils were blown out, eyes lidded and staring at him like he was your prey to be slaughtered. He'd seen you wrought with desire so many times before, but the way you gazed at him like he was a piece of meat, like you were going to absolutely ruin him, made him feel weak.
"Watch me, Jakey," your voice sounded so sweet, but your actions said otherwise. You abruptly got up from your seat on his lap, Jake frowning at the loss of your touch. You dug through your purse thrown across the room, returning with a tube of lipstick.
You plopped back onto Jake's lap, making sure that he was watching as you applied it to your pretty, swollen lips.
Then, you discarded it, throwing your lipstick to the side as you snatched his tie again. You brought the black fabric to your lips, staring your boyfriend down as you pressed kisses on his tie. You kissed it a few times, making sure that the color of your lipstick, as well as the shape of your lips, was well-imprinted on it.
Then, you yanked his shirt's collar toward you, pressing a harsh kiss on the fabric, making sure that the shape of your lips was once again imprinted on the fabric.
You looked back up at his face, unable to hide your smugness as his entire expression was painted with red.
"You're so hot—" Jake attempted to force out of his throat, but you only cut him off with a rough kiss to his lips. Without a word, you covered his face, from his forehead to his jaw, with kisses.
You pulled back to admire your work, before you pulled away from him.
"I have to be on stage in a few minutes," you said quietly, your back turned to him as you straightened out your skirt. Dumbfounded, Jake could only stare at you, but when you turned over your shoulder, flashing him a bright, but terribly cheeky, grin, Jake's heart fell out of chest. "I can't be late, right?"
With that, you left your boyfriend, all hot and bothered, on the couch, running off to prepare for your next event.
Almost immediately, Jake melted. He threw an arm over his eyes as he leaned back, letting out a groan.
Was this how you felt when he teased you?
Was he now sexually frustrated? Absolutely. But now he wanted you even more.
After mulling over it for a few minutes, Jake began to go back to his venue. But, as he passed the backstage vanity, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.
Some of it was obvious to him already: disheveled hair, messed up shirt. But what made Jake want to evaporate was the sight of his entire face and neck covered in lipstick marks. The corner of his lip had a big lipstick smudge, the hickey that you gave him earlier was so dark now, and he couldn't even dare to forget your lip imprints on his shirt and tie.
You little tease.
Jake's last straw was.... right now.
After the backstage fiasco, he didn't get to see you all day. That night, you had a PR event to attend with your fellow beauty creators, so he didn't get to see you at night either.
Which was why Jake was practically glowing with a dark and negative storm cloud as he pranced around the third day of Vidcon. It didn't help that he saw so many pictures of you and fans all across platforms. Poor guy almost lost it when one of your fans' vlogs blew up, the most replayed part being when you let out the most angelic and sweet laughs he'd ever heard in his life.
That should be him!
Meanwhile, Jake sat in the convention room at a panel. Lined up along the table were other horror creators, from authors to Youtubers to filmmakers, similar to yesterday. The way that this specific event operated was simple: fans got to ask anyone on the panel questions and they'd answer, which the entire room got to hear, and later there would be one-on-ones along the panel.
Jake was pulled out of his thoughts when one of the fans said that they had a question for him.
"Jake, your videos take a long time to make, how do you balance work and your personal life?"
Good question. He had a simple principle when it came to how to balance everything. Jake thought about it for a moment, before reaching for his microphone.
"I don't have any outright method," he began. Jake's mind flashed with your image: all the cute messages you'd send him throughout the day, all the times where after hours of rotting in front of his computer screen he could always count on your loving embrace to give him life, all times that he'd tune into your Spotify playlist so that he could be listening to what you were listening. It was easy to balance work and life, if it was you. "But I always put my life before the screen."
The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.
The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.
"To be clear, I understand the privilege of getting to work in a profession like mine," Jake continued. "I don't expect everyone to be able to follow my advice exactly, but the more I live, the more I realize that what happens before my very eyes will endlessly matter so much more than what happens in my own little Youtube bubble."
Jake's mouth jumped to you faster than his mind could stop him.
"My beautiful girlfriend is everything to me," he unconsciously began to grin stupidly to himself, "I'd put her above work any day if I had to."
The moment that those words left his lips, the room erupted with gasps and whispers.
"Wait, you have a girlfriend?!" one of Jake's Youtuber friends asked, leading the room to laugh.
Oh.
Shit.
Jake's eyes visibly widened. He clutched his microphone, bringing it up to his mouth, but no words came out.
There was no way in hell that he'd outright deny you, not even in a million years.
"I.... Well..." Jake stammered, trying his best to generate any words at all. He sucked in a sharp breath, a bashful expression making its way onto his face. "That's..."
The room filled with more laughter, alongside the teasing grins and pats on the back that Jake got from his colleagues.
"Oh, so that's what you were giggling about yesterday, lover boy..." Jay, also on the panel, quipped, his brows raised so high on his forehead that it could have touched his hairline.
"Sh-Shut up, Jay!"
Jake's chest felt fizzy. In a weird way.
A part of him felt on-edge. You and him always wanted to keep your relationship secret, for the sake of preserving it. He'd seen what the Internet did to relationships: it tore them apart. It wasn't like he name-dropped you, but he felt so... exposed, so vulnerable.
But at the same time, Jake felt his chest also swell with pride. That's right. He had a girlfriend (a hot girlfriend at that), a girlfriend that he was nefariously down bad for. He hoped everyone knew that, that he was taken and that if there was anyone that he'd spend the rest of his life with, it would be you.
Jake huffed. "Yeah, I have a girlfriend. What about it?"
No one questioned him further. Probably out of fear.
You were in the middle of trying your best to get through a conversation with some beauty guru that you knew one thing about: their personal makeup line launch failed horribly and they gave everyone hairy lipsticks. It was difficult, to say the least.
Exchanging your final regards, you quickly rushed back to your booth.
The first thing you saw when you checked your phone was a viral video, in which Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend. Your heart plummeted to your stomach when you initially read the caption, but when you watched the video, you had a difficult time processing your feelings.
Did you hate that Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend? … No, you didn’t. You didn’t at all. At a certain point, seeing the way that your boyfriend smiled so earnestly made your heart jump out of your chest. The way he was so giddy and smiley (of course, only you could tell that that was how he was feeling— to everyone else it probably looked like he was brooding) made your neck and cheeks warm up.
But, the way that the room erupted with voices and laughter, combined with the quirked brows of everyone on the panel, made you quiver.
You weren’t prepared for it, for how vulnerable you felt as a chorus of “ooh’s” filled the room.
Frankly, there were too many things that you had to focus on at the moment. You'd rather enjoy Vidcon now, and address it later, when things settle down.
Pushing it to the back of your mind, you tucked your phone away, greeting another wave of fans. Though, not without taking an extra second to "heart" the post, adding it to your favorites folder, and rewatching the video one more time, feeling warmth and giddiness filling your chest.
As the cool night air kissed your cheeks, you fought the shy smile that seeped onto your face. It was late now, late enough that you could see all the city lights gleaming, lighting up the dark sky with blotches of all different colors.
There was a Vidcon party for creators, to celebrate the end of the event. Everyone was going. Although it was meant for any creator, there was a very exclusive VIP section; only those of high prestige could get in. Both you and Jake were invited, but upon realizing that nearly the entire hotel complex would be empty due to the popularity of the party, the two of you ditched it.
You'd been wanting to go to the rooftop hottub for a while now, but you never went because you wanted to go with Jake, and it was always too crowded for the two of you to go there comfortably. But now that everyone was gone, it was the perfect time.
Your boyfriend was already waiting for you up there, towel thrown over his shoulder with a shirt and swim trunks. His face lit up the moment he saw yours emerging from the elevator doors, rushing over to you to take your hands.
He paused for a moment. His dark eyes peered at yours, licking his lips before sucking in a sharp breath. Jake gave your forehead a peck, before saying a small "C'mon" and pulling you over to the hottub.
Jake took your towel for you, folding it next to his and perching it on a sunchair.
"They're gonna get off fireworks soon— Oh, damn," he cut himself off as you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a bikini top. Your face scrunched up, squirming under his gaze. It's not like Jake has never seen you like this (in fact, he'd seen you in much more compromising positions), and it wasn't like he never complimented you, but as the hottub bubbled, the rosy scent of the water filling the air, you felt shy.
Jake slinked toward you, taking his own shirt off.
"Hey there, Gorgeous," he said, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts that had yet to be taken off. Your heart pounded in your chest, fighting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and groan in embarrassment. You kept your eyes glued to the ground. Jake chuckled softly, before clutching your chin gently, making you look up at him.
"Don't get shy on me now, babe," Jake grinned when your lips pressed into an unconscious pout. He squished your cheek, relishing in the look of confusion painted across your face. Then, his hands fell to your hips, pulling them toward his. "You look so beautiful."
Jake's fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, meeting your eyes for permission before pulling them down himself, revealing your bikini bottoms.
Jake's eyes glazed over your figure, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.
"Jaaakee," you whined, squeezing his hands.
"Sorry," Jake's eyes flickered up to your face. "I can't help it. You're just so hot, baby."
You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub.
You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub.
The two of you got into the tub, sinking into the warm water, you felt your limbs relax.
Vidcon was very fun, some of the most fun you've had in a while. But, it was very tiring, having to be around so many people at a time. And plus, it was hard not seeing your boyfriend whenever you wanted.
You pulled your knees to your chest. You could hear the loud techno music a few blocks away, probably coming from the club nearby. The bright night lights of LA was something that you could only imagine sleeping under.
Other than the sound of the city bustles, the hot tub’s jet system, and the occasional ripple of water, the night was silent.
“How was your day?” Jake broke the calm silence. The way the blueish water reflected off his skin made you dizzy.
“Good,” You cursed your voice for being so small. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was your boyfriend, for goodness’s sake!
Jake loved it when you were shy, but sometimes he was genuinely worried about you. Part of why he loved you was the game that was trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty head of yours.
He reached out for you, clutching your knee. "Baby, what's wrong?"
Your stomach churned. For a second, you thought about that video of him admitting that he had a girlfriend. It made your skin crawl, but when your boyfriend squeezed your knee, it all stopped.
"Nothing," you said simply.
There's a few pulses of silence, before Jake clicked his tongue.
"H-Hey—!"
Jake got up from the water, wrapping his hands around your waist, and hoisted you up so that your legs were thrown on either side of the body, before sitting back down so that you were perched right on top of his lap.
Your chest, nearly bare, pressed against his own bare chest in a way that made your heart race. The warmth of his skin as it contacted yours was an addicting feeling, enhanced only by the warm water surrounding you. Either it was the steam from the tub, or the heat collecting between the two of your bodies, that rose to your cheeks.
You rested your hands on his chest, your fingertips barely reaching his broad shoulders, while Jake’s hands stayed in their spot around your waist.
"C'mon," you could feel Jake's warm, strong chest rumble beneath you. "Tell me what's wrong."
Under the sky, his eyes gleamed, like two gems. For the flirt that he was, Jake was too genuine and pure of a person. The sincere worry in his eyes made you feel warm, even warmer than you felt right now. And sometimes that was enough for you.
You leaned into him, your hands coming up to cup his face. You rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks, to which he let his eyelids fall shut, relishing in the comfort that was your presence. Every time your thumb pressed against his lips, he kissed them, unable to hide the smile growing on his lips when you giggled softly.
At the corner of your eye, you spotted the purple hickey you left on him the other day. That combined with his wet hair, the water droplets temptingly running down his chest, and the fact that you were right on top of him made you feel light-headed.
Your hands left his face, and Jake opened his mouth to whine about it, but was shut up when your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in for a kiss.
It was a soft, innocent kiss, the type you gave when you just wanted to be close to him. Jake hummed against your lips, squeezing your thighs. You pulled away first, but Jake gently guided the back of your head back to his, pecking your lips.
"I just missed you," you said. You kissed his cheek. "I really missed you."
"It's only been a day," Jake teased you, but he knew better than anyone that he had absolutely no right to say that to you: he was practically dying each moment he couldn't see you.
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. You held onto his strong shoulders, eyes glued to his lips. You were feeling needy, needy in the way that you simply wanted to be close to Jake. You were already close to him, but you wanted to be even closer. Your heart thirsted for it.
Then, you heard a rustle, whipping your head around toward the sound.
"Nuh-uh," Jake whispered in your ear, gently holding your face and guiding it to look at him. "I want you to look at me."
It wasn't until a few seconds later that you understood why Jake's tone sounded so teasing: he was referencing you and him the other day backstage.
"Stoppp," you whined, pushing your face into his neck. "You're so annoying."
Jake laughed, his chest rumbling. He stopped to admire the way you were all pressed up against him. He could feel every curve of your body, and he could feel the way your cheeks puffed with air, your lips forming a pout. He poked your cheek.
"You're so cute, baby."
"I know."
"What's with you getting so bold?"
"You're annoying me."
"Awww, you love me so—"
Fireworks fired off in the distance, painting the gray-blue sky with bright colors.
You stayed in your position, only your eyes moving upward to admire the show. However, Jake stayed staring straight at you, practically ignoring the fiery flowers forming in the sky. He gazed into your eyes, watching the reflection in them.
"It's so pretty," you murmur.
"Yeah," Jake felt like he was falling into your eyes, "So pretty."
Just as another round of fireworks shot up into the sky, Jake grabbed your face, crashing his lips onto yours. Your lips fit into each other well, like puzzle pieces, in a way that was so satisfying, almost like you were made for kissing Jake. But for all of the desire and roughness that the kiss was filled with, it was a soft one.
Jake swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, making you squeal and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hands kneaded your body, roaming all over you with no intention of leaving a single part of your skin untouched. Likewise, you gripped his biceps, digging your nails into his skin to keep yourself grounded.
"Fuck—" Jake mumbled against your lips, only to get cut off by your lips attacking his— "Wait—"
Jake tasted sweet, like candy. He tasted like home, like love, like everything was going to be okay no matter what. How could you pull away now?
"B-Baby, wait—"
"Stop talking, Jakey," you pulled away briefly, only to bite his lip, pulling on the pink flesh with your teeth. You let your tongue roam his mouth, feeling the warmth as your own hands began to wander his toned chest.
"Just kiss me," you breathed.
You kept Jake like this for a few more minutes, trapping him in the heaven that was your lips. But when your bikini top began to untie at the back, something that Jake noticed immediately, he ripped away from you.
Something in his eyes had changed.
Quietly, he tied your bikini top back for you, ignoring your confused (and very breathless) gaze.
"If you keep doing what you do to me," he began into your ear, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."
With that, Jake threw you over his shoulder as he hoisted himself up to his feet. He grabbed everything that you brought to the rooftop, throwing your towel over you and ignoring you fussing.
"W-Where are we goin—?!"
"Back to my room."
You were in for a night.
You and Jake were going to stay in LA for a little while longer after Vidcon, so you extended your stay in the same hotel rooms.
After last night, Jake and you fell asleep in his bed.
It was going to be the best, Jake thought. Neither of you had anywhere to be, anyone to put on a show for. The two of you could sleep in for as long as you'd like. It didn't really matter to him, as long as he could wake up with you in his arms, he'd be all right.
Which is why Jake's heart dropped to his stomach when he woke up to you already dressed, pacing around the room nervously.
"Baby?" Jake was alarmed, even as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Baby, what happened?"
You whipped your head over to him, your expression pinch and painted with anxiety.
"Check your phone," you muttered as you chewed your lip.
Jake did as you said. The moment he opened up his phone, his screen was filled with text messages from everyone: his colleagues, his friends, heck even his own mother. He was tagged in about a thousand posts all across his social media accounts, and his Youtube home page was plastered with his face. But not only his face. Your face too.
What caught his eye was an article from a major Internet news source that made its round across every platform.
Its headline?
Jake Sim and [Name] [Last Name] are reported to be dating.
The worst part was the cover page.
It was a photo of you and Jake, together in the hottub last night, with your arms thrown around his neck with your lips connected. When he read more into it, the photo evidence got more and more specific. Close-up pictures of Jake's neck to reveal a hickey and lipstick mark on his shirt, your smudged lipstick, a screenshot of the Sanrio plush in one of his videos, even that clip of his laugh in the background of one of your videos. Of course, the most crucial one was that clip of Jake admitting that he had a girlfriend.
This was what he wanted, wasn't it? For everyone to know about you, to be able to show you off.
Objectively, this was bound to happen.
But as Jake watched you pace around, your hands shaking as you looked like you were about to cry, he didn't feel the pride that he thought he would feel if everyone knew. He didn't feel happy, he didn't feel excited that he got to show you off. All he felt was a mix of guilt and anger.
And before he could reach out to hold your hand and pull you close, you quietly said that you were going to go on a walk, and left the hotel room.
The quiet that filled the hotel room was piercing. Jake stilled in his spot, still groggy and disheveled.
Had he always been like this?
He swore that at the beginning of your relationship, he took every measure to keep it private. Because you asked him to. Because he respected you.
Why did he throw it all away?
He agreed to keep things private.
But now he put you in an uncomfortable position and an even more vulnerable position than you'd ever been in before.
Was he a bad boyfriend? Were you going to break up with him? Would your relationship with him ever be the same? That made Jake's heart palpitate. He couldn't lose you. No, he'd die. But then again, he fucked up, he knew that.
Jake ran a hand through his hair. This was an asshole move.
But he couldn't help feeling his fingers twitch for his phone when it ding'd.
The first thing he saw when he opened up Twitter were tweets at him.
And they were surprisingly... supportive?
"Emo boyfriend, cute girlfriend, the best combo!"
"Sending love to both of you. Hope you're doing well. We support you."
"I'm very pleasantly surprised."
"This is literally like Hello Kitty and Batman meeting this is crazy"
But as he scrolled deeper, he found more obscure comments.
"Feel so bad for [Name]. Her boyfriend is a freak."
"He doesn't deserve her."
And the nail in the coffin:
"No wonder they kept it a secret. I'd hide it too if someone like that was my boyfriend."
Why did you keep your relationship with him secret? Jake knew the answer to that: you just wanted to keep your personal life private.
But as Jake plunged himself deeper and deeper into the hole that was the media, he could only imagine alternative answers, and one stuck out.
Were you ashamed of him?
Of course you would be.
You were beautiful in every capacity and just the most perfect person in the world. And Jake was just himself. You were always cute, and sometimes, Jake felt like he couldn't keep up with you. You were far out of his league. His content was considered "niche" and "obscure," of course people, maybe even you, considered him a freak.
He was a bastard, and you were a princess. He didn't blame you for being embarrassed about him.
That's why you were so anxious and against your relationship being exposed, right?
No, no, no!
Shut up, shut up, shut up, Jake thought, his hands balling into fists. You wouldn't. He knew you better than anyone, and he knew that you would never be embarrassed about him. You weren't like that, and he was a fool for even thinking of you in that way. He was being insecure and stupid.
But even so, as Jake let all the guilt, shame, anger, and anxiety settle in while he thought of an apology to you, he couldn't help but feel his insecurity seeping in.
You knew that you were overreacting. You shouldn't have left Jake in there all alone, you should have sat down and talked to him about it.
But there was something scary about having everybody's eyes on you at once, scorning you. You were a Youtuber, of course you knew what it felt like to be watched, but to have the entire internet so hellbent about your personal life made you jump into your own skin.
You just took a walk along the early city streets, you reflected upon yourself.
Why did you keep your relationship with Jake secret?
Part of it was privacy. You didn't want the internet to interfere with your personal life, of course.
But it wasn't like you wanted to hide your love for your boyfriend forever. It wasn't like you wanted to stow him away somewhere no one could find him. You were both adults, and you had to start living at some point.
You'd be lying if you said that you never thought about making a cute video with him, if you said you never wanted to post a cheesy anniversary picture on Instagram with a long caption just for him, if you said you never wanted the world to know that Jake Sim was yours.
You remembered the first time you and Jake talked about keeping it private. He was unsure, but because he cared so much about you, he agreed. Had you ever stopped to think about how he felt? You may have wanted to keep your relationship quiet, but did he? To a degree, there was something selfish about you, both now and in the past. You wanted to preserve yourself and your feelings, but you never even considered how Jake felt.
You were afraid, you felt vulnerable and too exposed to the world. But you cared far more about Jake than those fleeting emotions. Desire outweighed fear, you had to see him now.
But as you marched back to your hotel, your mind racing as you came up with paragraphs of words that you'd spill to Jake, you began to notice your worst nightmare.
A group of men, each with massive cameras that had even bigger microphones.
They called themselves the paparazzi, but they were really only middle-aged men that made money off of being invasive towards people half their age.
Maybe you should have worn a hat, or something, as you were in a camera-infested area that was even more infested with celebrities and influencers. As they approached you, you quickened your steps, trying to get as far as you could from them. You tried your best not to make eye-contact, but alas, they got to you before you could escape.
"[Name]?" one of them called out your name, practically running to you.
Oh my god, you thought, ignoring them as you sped up. Please not right now.
"[Name], are you dating Jake Sim?" The sound of your boyfriend's name out of their mouths made your stomach churn. You kept walking, but you could feel them pointing their massive cameras at you, taking any measure to make a buck off of you.
You had a few choices.
You could make a run for it. Though, you had about six men double your age who would probably chase you down.
You could also give in to them, and give very vague answers. That would require a lot of patience, and simply, you wanted to go kiss your boyfriend, not talk to these so-called paparazzis.
Your last option was the one that seemed the most appealing, but could stir the pot of the media even more and it would give the tabloids what they wanted: you could tell them off and shut them down completely. The only issue was that you were the cutesy, sweet, Sanrio Hello Kitty girl. You've talked about adult topics before, but for you to be hostile and mean to another person? That was completely unheard of to anyone on the Internet. It would also be very reactive, and the media could twist that into something more.
But you wanted to get out of there.
You wanted to go see Jake. If you had to throw a few curse words at people if it meant that you could go home to Jake, then you'd use every curse under the sun.
"[Name], everyone is saying that your relationship with Jake Sim is real and not a publicity stunt. Any comment on that-?"
You were getting irritated.
You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder.
"Will you fuck off?" Your gaze hardened on the group of men shoving cameras in your faces. You didn't even bother looking into the lens. "It's 10 in the morning, I don't have time for this."
"We didn't mean to offend you, [Name], we just wanted to know your relationship with Jake Si—"
You huffed to yourself, rolling your eyes. They loved acting polite only to violate your privacy.
"Cut the bullshit, okay?" you narrowed your eyes. You were only a few meters from the hotel entrance, and they were still stalking you with their massive cameras. How shameless.
Your anger was bubbling up inside you. It was rising, rising so much that you could feel it attempting to spill out of your mouth.
"You want to make a quick buck off of me so bad?" You stepped through the hotel doorway.
If the media was so curious about your life, and if they wanted to go so far as to try to disrupt your relationship, you wouldn't give them that satisfaction.
Everyone loved seeing what you were doing, everyone loved to watch you. It was your job to put on a show, to give people what they wanted. If you wanted to live, then you'd have to accept that.
You were an influencer, a micro-celebrity. You could make tides move if you wanted to. Why be so fearful of the eyes of so many?
But more than anything, you were a performer. And if that's what they wanted from you, that's what they'll get.
"Fine," you huffed. "I'll give you a story: me and Jake have been together for six years. In fact, we met each other in high school when he was my Physics lab partner. Go investigate that, won't you?"
With that, you slammed the hotel entrance door in their faces.
Jake swore he heard the trumpets of heaven when the hotel room door cracked open, revealing you.
He'd been waiting in front of it for a while now, and he jerked up immediately as he saw your face. He jumped right to his feet, ready to spill every word he thought of on you. You deserved an explanation.
But all you did was raise your hand, silencing him instantly. Instead, you took off your shoes, took his arm, and pulled him with you to the bed. You motioned for him to lay down, and did so yourself.
Jake stared at you like you were insane. Were you not going to yell at him? Why weren't you hitting him or telling him that you wanted to break up with him? Should he be on his knees begging you to stay at this point? But he complied (because of course he did, it was you).
You laid on his chest in silence, pressing your cheek up against him.
That made his mind wander.
Maybe you were trying to ease him into a hard conversation. Maybe you were going to forget this until later.
He didn't want that. No, you deserved to hear what he had to say. If you were going to leave him, Jake wanted to say everything that he wanted to.
"I'm sorry," Jake blurted. The silence was deafening, before you took a deep breath, turning over onto your stomach so that your chin laid on his chest.
"What for?"
The gentle look in your eye as you looked at him made Jake choke up himself. He had to hold back or he'd start sobbing.
"For going against your wishes a-and..." Jake searched through his mind for all the words he practiced, but nothing came to mind. Not with you looking at him like you still loved him. "And for telling people about our relationship. I—I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry for disrespecting the promise w-we made.... And... And—"
Jake sucked in a loud, sharp breath. His eyes were getting watery. He took your hands in his, squeezing them.
"And I know that you're ash—ashamed of me, and I know that y-you won't— you won't want to be with me anymore, but—"
"Wait what?" you interrupted him, squeezing hands back. "I'm not ashamed of you, Jakey."
Jake stared at you.
Jakey.
"I'm not breaking up with you either. What makes you think that?"
The gate that was holding back Jake's emotions broke.
Jake let the tears that he tried so hard to hold back roll down his face. He let out a sob before he clamped a hand over his mouth.
You didn't hate him? You still wanted to be with him?
You instantly threw your leg over his hips, straddling him as you pulled his head to your chest. He melted into your touch, his wet face hiding in the crook of your neck. You pet his hair, pressing kisses to the crown of his head.
"Baby," you whispered into his ear gently. "Why are you crying?"
Jake's crying only got louder, and you couldn't help but giggle. He was a total softie. The way his hold around you tightened told you enough.
Jake sniffled through his words, cutting himself off every now and then with a hiccup and more sobs. "Th-Thought you were gonna l-leave me."
Your fingers stopped in his hair. "Leave you? Why would I?"
Jake pushed his face back into your shoulder, shaking his head.
You let him cry like that for a little while longer, whispering sweet reassurances in his ear as you patted his back.
And when he was ready, the two of you talked it out, because that's what people did when they loved each other. You exchanged apologies, explained to each other your thought processes, and created an agreement: start anew, and you both didn’t mind that your relationship was now public, and if either of you disagreed, you had to voice it immediately. You ended it with a kiss.
You clicked the camera on, checking in the viewfinder that you were in-frame. You were back at home, the pink Hello Kitty decorations in your room, as well as the scent of strawberries, surrounding you.
“Hi, everyone!” you smiled brightly, clasping your hands together. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all. How are you?”
You chatted about a few updates since Vidcon, telling about your wonderful experience there and how you were so happy to meet all your fans.
“Now, onto the video!”
You peered to the side, where you spotted Jake sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting intently for your cue.
“Oh, Jakey!” you said in a sing-songy voice. “Come out now!”
With that, Jake popped into frame, dorkily saying a quick hi before plopping down onto the chair beside you.
“Today, I will be doing my boyfriend’s makeup!” you chirped happily. “Are you ready, boyfriend?”
FUCK MUSIC STREAMING PLATFORMS, How to Rip Your CD Collection
what you'll need:
a laptop or computer
an external CD player if your laptop/computer doesn't have one
fre:ac (ripping software)
mp3tag (metadeta editor)
fre:ac already has a really great tutorial on how to get started with their software, so I encourage you to read that first! i personally use the flac encoder since i'm a bit of an audiophile, but flac files are a LOT larger than mp3 files and you most likely won't notice a difference if you don't have high quality headphones.
if you are using an external CD player, plug it in before you open fre:ac. once you're in fre:ac, insert your CD and it should open the job list after a few seconds. if it doesn't load after about a minute, click the CD icon highlighted below, and it should pull up after bit!
note: if you run on windows 11, it may auto eject your CD instead of creating a job list. if that happens to you, insert the CD before opening and then click the CD icon
fre:ac will search through its Compact Disk Database (CDDB) and find a match to your CD. sometimes, an exact match can't be found, and you'll see this screen.
if you scroll through and can't find the album you put in, click "cancel" and the CD may already have some metadata like shown below and we just have to clean up everything
otherwise, it will have no metadata like this
thankfully, most albums have their tracklist included somewhere within the packaging. enter the artist, album, and title track into their respective fields. we can enter the year and genre later.
once you have everything entered, or if your CD was in the CDDB, click the highlighted play icon to start ripping your CD!
rinse and repeat for all of the albums you have!
note: if you are going through a bunch of CDs, make sure "Eject disk after ripping" is checked. it can be found by going to Options -> General Settings and on the left hand menu, click "Settings" under "Ripper" and check the box. This will just auto eject the CD once it's done ripping and will make your life easier, trust me
Now that you have all of your CDs ripped, open MP3tag. go to file -> add directory. navigate to the folder you ripped your music to within the popup window and click "Select Folder"
All of the songs will be listed in alphabetical order by artist. This is a good opertunity to double check that the artist is spelled the same across albums. PENTAGON and 펜타곤 and 펜타곤 PENTAGON will all show up as different artists, even if they are the same group.
I like to edit everything per album by selecting the first song and shift+click the last song
on the left, you will see all of the metadata associated with everything we selected
don't change the title or track listing. if it says < keep > under artist or album, we have have made a typo when manually entering, so go ahead and fix that to what the artist/album should be. I go ahead and delete the comment since i like everything being sleek. you can also enter the year and genre if it wasn't filled in before.
now we add the album art. easiest way to find it is through the artwork finder by Ben Dodson. it searches through apple music's library to find matching albums. just search the artist + album, right click on the artwork and save it to your device. now in MP3tag, right click on the black square and select "Add cover". navigate to where you saved the album art, select it, and click "open"
once everything is entered, click on the save icon in the top left. here is a before and after of everything i changed for one of the albums
and that's it! you can add the music to an mp3 player, your phone, or upload it to the file sharing platform of your choice!
a thought: panting, giggly smooches and eskimo kisses with jay after their last round of seggs
note about this post ‼️‼️ oh my goodness i’m so in love
warnings: kissing, mentions of sex, use of petnames, strong language, but it’s veeeery fluffy i promise!!
you’re both still tangled in the sheets, skin slick and hearts hammering like they’re trying to catch up with each other.
jay’s chest rises and falls under your cheek, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist while the other hand lazily strokes up and down your spine.
he lets out a shaky exhale, half-laugh, half-groan, lips brushing the top of your head.
“fuck… i think you actually killed me that time,” he mutters, voice rough and low.
you tilt your head up, chin resting on his sternum, and grin. both of you are panting softly, cheeks flushed, hair messy. the second your eyes meet a little laugh slips out of you. jay’s lips twitch, then he’s laughing too — quiet, breathless, the kind that shakes his chest under you.
“come here,” he whispers, still smiling.
you crawl higher up his body until your faces are level. he doesn’t waste a second — just pulls you in for a slow, sloppy kiss, all tongue and affection. it’s messy and perfect, both of you still trying to breathe properly. you break apart for air and he chases your lips immediately, planting three quick smooches in a row that turn giggly when your noses bump.
“jay—” you giggle, trying to pull back, but he follows, catching your bottom lip between his.
another kiss. then another. soft and playful, loud little smack sounds filling the quiet room between your laughs. his hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw as he keeps peppering your mouth with tiny, loving kisses.
then he goes for it.
he rubs his nose against yours slowly — eskimo kiss style — eyes half-closed, smile so wide his dimples pop deep. you melt, giggling harder as you copy him, rubbing your nose back and forth against his. it’s so stupidly sweet after how intense the sex was, but neither of you can stop.
“you’re so cute,” he mumbles, voice husky, still panting a little between words. he gives you another nose rub, then presses a long, lingering smooch to your lips. “my pretty girl… laughing all breathy after i just fucked you senseless.”
you hide your face in his neck, still giggling, and he wraps both arms around you, rolling you onto your sides so you’re facing each other. legs tangled, foreheads pressed together.
he keeps giving you little kisses — your nose, your cheeks, the corner of your mouth — each one making you laugh softer until it fades into content sighs. every time you try to catch your breath he pulls you in for another gentle smooch, like he can’t get enough of your smile.
“again,” you whisper, nudging his nose with yours.
jay chuckles, warm breath fanning across your lips, and obeys. slow nose rubs, followed by lazy, giggly smooches that taste like afterglow and love.
“i could do this all night,” he murmurs against your mouth, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “just you. panting. laughing. kissing me like i’m the only thing in your world.”
you rub your nose against his one more time, hearts still racing but softer now.
“you are.”
he smiles, big and real, then pulls you in for one last deep, slow kiss — the kind that says he’s nowhere near done loving you tonight.
⋆˚✰ ݁˖⭑.ᐟ Even though you ain't mine, I promise the way we fight
Make me honestly feel like we just in love
⋆˚✰ ݁˖⭑.ᐟ Y/n and Sunghoon hate each other. That's what Y/n thinks anyways, but one drunken night changes everything.
pt1 | pt2
𑣲⋆ pairings - sunghoon x fem! reader
𑣲⋆ warnings - idk what warnings to put lmao, no smut only plot??, smut is in the next chapter hehe, enemies to lovers, sunghoon is kinda down bad already, drunk kisses, drunk confessions, sunghoon is a good guy, both of them are dumbasses smh, attempt at humour pt1
𑣲⋆TITLE IS FROM BOYFRIEND BY ARIANA GRANDE AND SOCIAL HOUSE
You were supposed to room with Yunjin. Only Yunjin at first, but thanks to a housing glitch and the universe's weird sense of humour, you're now sharing a dorm with not one, not two, but three men.
Nishimura Riki, a quiet third-year student from Japan, you're favourite of the bunch, after Yunjin of course. Sim Jaeyun, the human-form of a golden retriever, fourth-year student like you. And Park Sunghoon, the personification of the words 'annoying' and 'smug', and your worst enemy since you laid eyes on him.
Sunghoon, who wore black clothes like he was allergic to colour, looked like he walked straight out of a K-drama, or a skincare ad with his porcelain skin and irritatingly good looks. If he weren't your enemy, you'd be swooning over him, but you're not. Because you hate him. Obviously.
Your first interaction was enough to tick you off. You'd been friends with Riki and Jaeyun, so you'd met him before on campus. You'd been attracted to him at first, but then he opened his mouth, and all that attraction went straight out the window.
The day he moved in, you were the one who opened the door. He simply blinked down at you, a bored expression on his face as he said in that tired tone of his, "Oh. It's you."
You raised an eyebrow at the lack of a warm greeting, "Oh, I'm sorry, were you expecting someone uglier?" He merely smirked at you, that infuriating tug of his lips, and you turned back around, slamming the door in his face as you walked back to the door.
You knew you were pretty. The kind of pretty that makes people look twice on the street, supple body and honey-toned skin, always dressing like you're getting ready for fashion week, even when you're just going to Music comp.
You're not skittish. You're not fake. You're just confident.
And Sunghoon is allergic to confident girls who know what effect they have on people, and aren't afraid to use it to their advantage. Which is what makes things fun when the tension starts.
"Do you always look this smug?" he asks, scowl on his face. "Only when I'm right. So, basically all the time," you say with a grin, and he groans and walks away, shaking his head.
"Are you ever normally dressed?" he starts one morning, eyes raking over your long-blue ruffle skirt, white tube top, and a shit-ton of jewellery stacked on top of each other. You turn to him with a grin, taking a sip of your coffee, "Is that your roundabout way of telling me I look good?" He scoffs, aggressively cutting the piece of toast on his plate, "You wish."
The fights are frequent. It starts out small, petty arguments over nothing and everything. Over toothpaste. Over couch space. Over who left the speaker on all night. He says you’re too loud with that scowl on his face, and you say he blinked weirdly and ruined your whole morning. It’s ridiculously petty.
You fucking live for it.
But sometimes, when the moons align in the perfect order, the tension cracks. He wordlessly offers you his jacket when you walk back from class, freezing in your sleeveless top. You quietly cover him with a blanket when he falls asleep at his desk, notes scattered around, pen still gripped in his hand.
He doesn't thank you, and you never bring it up. Things remain in their weird, hate-fueled equilibrium.
Until one night, when the tension cracks wider than normal, someone leans too close at a party. You try to brush it off, but he doesn't budge, until Sunghoon steps in.
"She’s not interested.”
“Why do you care?”
Sunghoon meets your eyes. “I don’t," but his jaw clenches like he does.
You aren't dating. You're not even friends.
You’re just the girl who turns heads without trying. He’s the boy who pretends not to notice. Your dorm is a war zone of side-eyes, petty arguments, and tension thick enough to cut with a nail file.
No one knows what’s happening between you two. You're not even sure you do.
You wake up the next morning to your head throbbing, still dressed in last night's outfit, smelling of cheap cologne and alcohol, an unruly mix of scents for the first thing in the morning.
You groan, getting out of bed and stripping off last night's clothes, and changing into only an oversized t-shirt, nothing underneath. It was pretty early on a Sunday morning, and you knew no one would be awake yet, so you ventured out into the kitchen.
The kitchen is quiet, bathed in soft morning light filtering through the blinds. The fridge hums softly.
You pad across the cold tile barefoot, your oversized tee hanging off one shoulder, hair a messy curtain of sleep. You swing open the fridge with zero grace.
Empty water bottle. Half-eaten container of kimchi fried rice (Riki’s). A single egg.
You crack it into a pan. Your head feels like it got used as soccer practice by Riki's team tryouts. The sizzle fills the silence just as you hear footsteps down the hall.
Sunghoon appears, hair slightly messy from sleep, wearing those stupidly soft-looking sweatpants and a black crewneck with tiny white stripes. He blinks at you.
You’re in nothing but an oversized tee, bare legs on display, pan smoking behind you.
His eyes flicker down to your legs for half a second. Then back up to your face. Neutral expression. Always neutral with him unless he's being petty or smug or both. Without saying anything, Sunghoon walks straight past you toward the coffee maker.
"Why are you up so early?" you grumble, flipping the egg in the pan.
Sunghoon doesn’t answer right away. Just fills the coffee pot with water, measured and precise like he’s defusing a bomb.
The machine gurgles to life.
Only then does he glance at you over his shoulder, dark eyes sleepy but sharp. “Studying,” he says flatly. Like that explains everything.
Which it kind of does. Sunghoon wakes up at ungodly hours every weekend to cram for exams while everyone else sleeps off their party regrets (normal people like you). He grabs a mug from the cabinet and pours black coffee into it without sugar or cream or anything remotely human-like about his taste in beverages.
"Oh yeah, I forgot you're a masochist," you say with a grin, turning off the stove.
Sunghoon pauses mid-sip, coffee cup hovering near his lips.
He slowly lowers it. Turns to face you fully. “I’m not a masochist,” he says, voice low and even. “I just don’t like sweet things.”
You snort, sliding the slightly overcooked egg onto a plate and plopping down at the kitchen table. “Uh-huh,” you say through a mouthful of dry egg. “So studying at 7 AM is your idea of fun? What are they teaching you in med school? Self-flagellation?”
He leans against the counter across from you, arms crossed over that stupidly broad chest of his (why does someone so annoying have such good shoulders? It's unfair, honestly).
Sunghoon exhales through his nose. Not quite a laugh. Never a full one with you. “You’re loud for someone who was passed out in her room ten minutes ago,” he mutters, taking another slow sip of his black coffee.
You scowl at him before stepping out from behind the stove and making your way to the fridge, eyes searching for that one sandwich you'd left for yourself yesterday, bending down at the waist to search the lower compartments.
Sunghoon's seated right behind, sipping on his coffee. The fridge light casts a soft glow on your bent form, the oversized tee riding up slightly as you rummage through the bottom drawer.
Sunghoon’s gaze drops.
Not on purpose. Or maybe it is. He doesn’t look away fast enough.
Your legs are long and smooth, bare from thighs down to ankles, where your ridiculous fuzzy socks dangle halfway off one foot. The fabric of the shirt pulls taut across your hips as you lean in further.
He takes another sip of coffee. Slowly. Like he needs something to do with his hands so he won't… do anything else. A clatter from inside the fridge as you yank out a Tupperware container triumphantly. There it is: yesterday's turkey sandwich with pickles and mayo exactly how you like it.
You rummage through the fridge for a few more seconds, bending down even more, the hem of your shirt riding up your thighs.
Sunghoon’s coffee cup stops halfway to his lips.
The steam from the hot drink fogs slightly in front of his face, but it does nothing to blur what he's seeing.
Your shirt rides up. Higher. Higher. Now it’s just barely covering the curve of your ass, that soft dip where thigh meets backside, and suddenly the kitchen feels ten degrees hotter.
He swallows hard. Not because of thirst. His eyes stay fixed on you for half a heartbeat too long before he forces them upward again, like nothing happened. You finally pull out an unopened yogurt cup and close the fridge door with your hip.
You walk over back to the stove, the thin white fabric clings to you in the soft morning light, and oh.
Oh no.
Sunghoon’s breath hitches again. His fingers tighten around his coffee mug. You’re not even trying. You never do. And that’s the problem.
Every step makes your chest move under the shirt, every slight shift of your shoulders sends a ripple through the fabric. No bra means nothing holding anything back from being… visible. Very visible.
He stares for a solid two seconds before his brain finally screams: fucking look away!
So he does. Or tries to. But then you turn slightly toward him as you set down your sandwich on the counter, and there it is again: the gentle swell of cleavage with each shallow breath.
His jaw ticks.
Sunghoon abruptly stands.
Too fast. Coffee sloshes over the rim of his mug, hot droplets landing on the counter.
He doesn’t flinch. Just grabs a dish towel and starts wiping it with aggressive focus. Anything to avoid looking at you. Especially at you right now in that damn shirt with your hair messy and sleepy face and everything else on display by accident (or is it?).
You just… eat your sandwich, blissfully unaware of how much chaos one girl can cause in pajamas before breakfast.
"Are you stupider in the morning, Sunghoon-ah?" you ask with a chuckle as you watch him frantically dab at the spilled coffee on the counter.
Sunghoon’s head snaps up at the way you say his name. Light, teasing, with that little lilt on the end like he's a misbehaving puppy.
His eyes narrow instantly in offended pride.
“I’m not stupid,” he says through gritted teeth, still scrubbing the counter like his life depends on it. “I just… spilled coffee.”
“Uh-huh,” you hum between bites of sandwich, kicking one bare foot lazily against the cabinet door. “You’re always weird in the morning.”
He finally drops the towel and turns to fully face you now, arms crossed again, chin slightly lifted in that haughty Park Sunghoon way.
“And you,” he fires back coolly, “are loud and annoying first thing.”
"I thought I was always loud and annoying to you?" you tease, lips tugging upward as you shovel a spoon of yogurt into your mouth, some of it dripping down your lips, before you lap it up.
Sunghoon’s eyes lock onto your mouth.
Not on purpose. Definitely not on purpose.
The yogurt drips down the corner of your lip, and you lick it off slowly. Like this isn’t killing him quietly inside.
His throat bobs once. A tiny swallow. But his face stays perfectly still. You smile around another spoonful of yogurt, teasing him with just existing in that stupidly cute way that makes people want to either strangle or kiss you (he hasn't decided which yet).
“Yeah,” he mutters after a beat too long, “you’re always loud and annoying.” But there's no heat behind it now. Just… something else beneath his usual cool tone. He clears his throat, grabs an apple from the fruit bowl, and takes a sharp bite, like chewing will fix everything about this morning so far.
The silence stretches again, but it’s different now. Thinner. Fragile. Like a bubble that might pop if either of you move too fast.
You keep eating your yogurt quietly, legs curled under you in the chair. He stands by the counter, biting into his apple like he's punishing fruit for existing.
His gaze flicks to you every few seconds. Not obvious ones. Just quick glances when he thinks you're not looking: your face, your hands, the way your hair falls over one shoulder…
Then back to his breakfast.
Suddenly, a loud thump from down the hall. Both of your heads turn toward Yunjin’s room door as it swings open dramatically. "Yunjin! My queen, good morrow to you," you say in a dramatic British accent, bowing to him as she scowls at you, making you giggle.
Yunjin stomps into the kitchen like a woman on a mission, in her silk pajamas and her hair in a halfway destroyed bun. Her eyes land on you first, your dramatic bow still halfway completed.
“Ugh,” she says flatly, voice thick with morning judgment. “You’re loud.” Sunghoon exhales through his nose again. Almost a laugh. But he covers it with another bite of the apple.
She finally looks at him, eyes narrowing slightly. “You two are… weird,” she declares after sipping her coffee.
"We haven't even said anything, dude," you exclaim, shovelling another bite of yogurt into your mouth, groaning when some of it drips onto your fingers. Without a thought, you lift the finger up to your mouth, sucking it clean. Sunghoon's eyes lock onto your mouth the second you bring your finger to it, that slow, careless lick of yogurt from your fingertip.
It’s not sexy. Not really, but fuck, does it send a jolt through his entire body. He swallows hard. Too fast. Almost chokes on his apple.
Sunghoon abruptly stands again. He's doing that weird thing where he moves like a startled cat whenever something emotionally inconvenient happens.
This time, he grabs his coffee mug and dumps the rest in the sink with more force than necessary. The ceramic clinks loudly against metal.
He doesn't answer. Just rinses his mug under hot water, avoiding eye contact with both of you now, face slightly pink at the tips of his ears.
You finally finish your yogurt and toss the empty cup into recycling, cheering like you'd just won an NBA game when it lands in the bin accurately, saying something about being the next Lebron James, as Yunjin rolls her eyes at your antics, stealing the last piece of your sandwich.
"I'm gonna go sleep for another four hours," you announce, sauntering off into your room when Riki walks down the hall, half-asleep still, rubbing at his eyes, pout on his lips. "Good morning, aegi," you say. Riki blinks slowly, still half-asleep, as you plant a soft kiss on his cheek.
He mumbles something incoherent that might’ve been “morning” or possibly “I love you” (hard to tell, so you assume it was the latter, because of course he loves you), and leans into your touch like a sleepy puppy.
Sunghoon watches the entire interaction from the kitchen doorway where he’s lingering now with damp hands and an expressionless face.
But internally? he's screaming. Riki yawns dramatically, then shuffles toward the fridge, still in his oversized graphic tee and pajama pants covered in little frogs.
You wake up exactly four hours later, walking out of your room at 12:45, hair up in a bun as you walk into the living room.
The living room is bathed in golden afternoon light filtering through the sheer curtains.
You pad out barefoot, hair swept up into a messy bun with a few silky strands escaping around your face. Riki is sprawled on the couch, legs dangling over one armrest, still in his frog pajamas. He’s watching some drama on mute with closed captions scrolling rapidly across the screen.
Yunjin is sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him, flipping through law textbooks, a half-empty iced coffee beside her.
No sign of Sunghoon.
Riki sits up slightly, propping himself on his elbows. "Hey," he says softly, voice still a little groggy. Yunjin doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches you for a second before speaking in that cool, no-nonsense tone of hers, like she's judging your life decisions, “Did you eat yet?”
You shake your head. Just then, the front door clicks open.
The door swings open, and in walks Sunghoon.
He’s not dressed like earlier. Now he’s in dark jeans and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his veiny hands on fully display and forearms on full display, looking unfairly put together for someone who was just studying all morning.
A leather messenger bag hangs across his chest. His hair is slightly damp at the ends. And there's a paper cup of iced coffee in one hand.
Sunghoon steps inside quietly, kicks off his shoes neatly by the entryway, and pauses when he sees you standing there. Sunghoon’s eyes drop.
Instantly.
They flicker from your face down to your legs, then back up again in record time, like he tried not to look but failed spectacularly.
You’re standing there in nothing but the white shirt and no pants. The fabric hits mid-thigh, leaving a lot of smooth leg on display. And yeah, still zero bra situation going on beneath the thin cotton.
The living room suddenly feels ten times smaller and hotter.
"Tell me you have food, and I won't jump you right this instant," you warn, turning to him fully. Sunghoon blinks. Your tone is serious, and he knows that look in your eyes, the one you get when you're hangry. He slowly lifts the iced coffee cup like an offering. “No food,” he says flatly. “Just got this.”
You groan dramatically, throwing your hands up before pointing at him accusingly.
“You’re evil! You were out the entire morning and didn’t bring me anything?!” Sunghoon just stares at you blankly.
"I hate all of you! except Riki 'cause he's my aegi pie," you declare, stomping back into your bedroom.
Riki beams at being called aegi pie and kicks his feet a little, clearly loving the affection.
Yunjin rolls her eyes. "Drama queen," she mutters under her breath, flipping another page in her textbook like nothing happened. Sunghoon stand in the doorway with a small smile, endeared by your dramatics but he would never admit that.
The next time Sunghoon sees you is at 7 p.m. He's in the kitchen again, this time sitting at the table with his laptop open. He’s reviewing notes for a final exam, glasses slightly askew on his nose. When you walk past the living room toward the front door, he looks up automatically.
You’re dressed to go out. The denim skirt hugs your hips just right, the tights make your legs look endless under soft sweater vest fabric that drapes perfectly over one shoulder, where it slipped off slightly.
Your silver jewelry catches the warm glow of the table lamp, tiny chains around your neck and delicate bracelets on one wrist glinting as you move toward the door.
He pushes his glasses up slowly, a subconscious gesture. Then, finally, “Where are you going?” he asks, voice neutral. Carefully controlled. "Out to the studio, need to finish a music comp. assignment" you state, stepping into your Mary Janes, fixing your hair in the mirror.
He watches as you fix your hair in the mirror by the door, your hands smoothing back soft strands of that perfect silky, wavy hair, a silver clip holding it slightly off your face now.
You grab a small backpack from beside the entryway and sling it over one shoulder. Turning to leave.
"Nerd," you say in his direction with a snicker. Sunghoon narrows his eyes. The word hits him like a personal attack, even though it’s said with that playful tone and little smirk on your face.
He closes his laptop slowly. Deliberately. Then pushes the glasses up again. Without getting up, he deadpans, “I’m studying to become a surgeon, y/n.”
"All I'm hearing is 'I'm a nerd, and I have no bitches'" you tease further.
Sunghoon’s jaw actually drops for half a second. Then it snaps shut, his face turning pink in record time. Just that soft, furious blush creeping up from his neck to the tips of his ears.
He has bitches. (Okay, no, he doesn’t. But still! That was an uncalled-for attack on multiple levels.)
“I have plenty of… friends,” he mutters defensively, voice slightly higher than usual. You’re already laughing as you swing the door open, your silver jewelry jingling softly with your movement.
"But do you fuck around with said 'friends', Hoon-ah?"
Sunghoon chokes on air. His face goes from pink to full-on scarlet in 0.2 seconds flat, eyes widening.
Hoon-ah.
Again with the nickname. And then that question? So blunt. So casual. Like it’s normal to ask someone if they’re sexually active while standing by the front door at 7 PM.
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.
Nothing comes out but pure panic and existential crisis over how this conversation escalated so fast.
"Thought so. You have hot nerd potential, Sunghoon. Put it to use," you say with a wink before walking out the door.
Sunghoon stays frozen in his chair, laptop forgotten, glasses slightly crooked.
His brain is short-circuiting. That wink, it was a small gesture. But it punched him right in the chest like an emotional uppercut. The door clicks shut behind you as you leave for the studio, and only then does he finally breathe again.
Riki chooses that exact moment to walk downstairs from his room. He blinks, then smiles knowingly. Then, with zero mercy for the tangle of thoughts in Sunghoon's head, he says, “You look like you just got rejected by the love of your life.”
Sunghoon’s head snaps toward him. Eyes wide. Defensive. “I didn’t get rejected,” he mutters quickly. Too quickly.
Riki raises an eyebrow. That tone? That panic? The way his shoulders are tense? This is way worse than rejection. This is unrequited something. Maybe even… crushing?
A week later, you find yourself at another party, dressed in a lace bralette and a pretty skirt, decked out in gold jewellery that sparkles with each sway of your hips to the music, drink in hand.
Your head is hazy from the three drinks you've had already, your grip on control slipping from your hands with every sip. Not wasted drunk, but tipsy enough that everything feels softer, louder, more intense.
Your drink dangles loosely in one hand as you tilt your head back, laughing at something Jake just said beside you. The party is loud, pulsing with bass and neon lights. Bodies press together on the dance floor. Someone spills a drink near your feet, but you don’t care.
The song switches to something slow and sultry, bass thumping low. You don’t notice anyone specific yet, still lost in that warm, fuzzy haze of alcohol, your body moving naturally to the rhythm, hips swaying without thought.
Suddenly, a tall figure cuts through the crowd.
Sunghoon.
He didn’t come to this party. He hates parties. Says they’re “too loud and pointless.”
But Yunjin texted him: “Y/n is tipsy as hell. Someone go check on her.”
So here he is. He's still figuring out why, though.
Dressed in black jeans and a fitted dark sweater that makes him look unfairly good for someone who claims to hate socializing.
His eyes scan the room until they land on you. Dancing with Jake. Smiling at something stupid Jake just said.
Sunghoon’s jaw tightens. Jake is way too close. Arm still slung around you, laughing in your ear like it's a private joke. And you're tipsy. Glowing under the lights, completely unaware of how vulnerable that makes you look right now.
He pushes through the crowd with quiet determination, ignoring people bumping into him or shouting over music.
When he finally reaches you, he doesn’t say hello to Jake. Instead, he steps right up beside you, eyes locked on your face. "IS THAT PARK SUNGHOON? AT AN EVENT THAT REQUIRES SOCIALIZING?! THAT CAN'T BE!?" you shout over the music, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before your head tips back in a laugh.
Sunghoon doesn’t smile. But his eyes soften just a little at the sound of your laugh. Loud, tipsy, and completely unfiltered.
Jake grins like an idiot. “Dude! You came?!”
Sunghoon nods once at him. No eye contact longer than necessary. Then turns fully to you.
You’re still giggling, head lolling slightly as you stare up at him with that hazy drunk glow in your eyes.
The music pulses around you two, bodies moving everywhere. You're swaying on wobbly feet, with him standing stiffly beside you.
Sunghoon reaches out. Not dramatically, just a simple, firm hand on your elbow to steady you as you wobble slightly from the alcohol and dancing.
“Hey,” Sunghoon says over the music, voice low but cutting through the noise better than anyone else’s could. “You okay?”
You blink at him. Big eyes. Slightly unfocused. Then, without warning, you suddenly throw both arms around his neck in a sloppy hug.
"I'M GREAT! NEVER BEEN BETTER!"
Sunghoon stiffens. Completely. Like a statue. A very tall, very handsome statue.
Your arms are wrapped around his neck, your body pressed close to his chest as you squeeze him in a tipsy bear hug while shouting right in his ear, but he doesn't notice over the warmth of your body pressed to his.
Jake bursts out laughing. Sunghoon doesn’t know what to do with his hands. So he just… hovers them awkwardly in mid-air, not pushing you away, but not hugging back either.
"LET'S GO DANCE! EVERYONE COME DANCE WITH ME!" you shout, grabbing Jake and Sunghoon by the elbow and dragging them out to the dance floor.
Sunghoon is dragged onto the dance floor. Kicked and screaming internally, but physically powerless against you. Jake goes willingly, grinning like an idiot as you yank him by the elbow.
The song shifts to something upbeat with heavy bass and flashy lights. People start jumping around, dancing wildly.
You immediately throw your arms in the air, hips moving to the rhythm, completely unbothered that Sunghoon looks like he’s being held hostage.
Jake starts dancing beside you with zero shame. But Sunghoon? He just… stands there. Awkwardly swaying from side to side like his body forgot how limbs work. "COME ON SUNGHOON, LET LOOSE!" you shout at him, shaking him by the shoulders.
Sunghoon’s shoulders jostle under your hands as you shake him like a rag doll. He looks so uncomfortable. Like a deer in headlights at a rave.
Jake is fully dancing now, spinning and throwing his arms up dramatically to the music. You gulp down the drink in your hand, body swaying to the music, a wide smile on your face as you dance with Jake.
Sunghoon watches you.
The way your body moves to the music, all loose and free from alcohol and joy. Your wide smile lighting up your face under the neon glow. The empty drink cup now dangling in one hand as you toss it aside without a care.
Something in his chest tightens.
Jake’s dancing beside you like an overexcited puppy, matching your energy perfectly. But Sunghoon? He finally starts moving too. Slow at first. Awkward shoulder rolls. Hesitant hip sways. It's terrible dancing. But at least he's trying.
After what feels like hours of dancing, you stumble back to the bar, ordering another drink. You grab the glass, chug half of it in one go, and slam it down on the counter with a loud CLANK, throwing your arms up like you just won an Olympic gold medal.
"YESSS!" you yell to no one in particular, laughing as bubbles from carbonation tickle your nose. You're wobbling on your feet, giggling uncontrollably at something only in your head, hair messy from dancing, cheeks flushed pink with alcohol glow.
Jake finds you at the bar seconds later, still sweaty from dancing. “Whoa,” he says through a grin. “You’re gone, y/n”
Sunghoon appears behind him moments after that, having lost sight of you during all the chaos. His expression shifts when he sees how much more tipsy you are now.
"I've had like only seven drinks, Jakey, I'm fine," you say with a chuckle and a scoff, wobbling on your feet.
Jake bursts out laughing, "Six? Y/n, that's not fine." Sunghoon’s face drops.
Six drinks? Since when does someone your size drink six drinks and still be standing? He steps forward immediately, abandoning all pretense of coolness or distance. His hands twitch at his sides like he wants to catch you if you fall.
"Let's go dance some more!? One more drink!" you exclaim, turning back to the bartender.
Sunghoon moves fast.
Before you can even raise your hand to signal the bartender again, he steps in and gently grabs your wrist.
Not rough. Not angry. But firm enough to stop you. Sunghoon looks at the bartender and gives a small shake of his head: no more for her.
Then he turns back to you, crouching slightly so his face is level with yours since you’re still swaying on unsteady feet.
“You’ve had enough, y/n,” he says clearly over the music, voice calm but leaving no room for argument. "But I want more...." you pout at him, wide eyes staring up at him.
Sunghoon stares into your big, pouty eyes.
Oh no.
That look. The tipsy puppy eyes. The lower lip slightly jutting out. The dazed, hopeful gaze like he’s the meanest person in the world for saying no to more alcohol.
It hits him like a punch to the gut.
For a second? He wavers. Almost caves.
But then reality slaps him, so he hardens his expression just slightly, keeping that firm but gentle grip on your wrist. Before you can even protest, Sunghoon is dragging you out of the party, informing Jake before weaving through the sea of bodies, and walking out the door with you whining about going back. "Hoon-ah~ Wanna go back...."
That sweet, slurred voice saying his name like that? Dangerous.
But he keeps a tight but careful grip on your arm as he guides you through the crowded hallway and out into the cool night air. The party noise fades behind you, replaced by quiet street sounds. The moment fresh air hits your face, you lean heavily against him, your body finally giving in to how drunk you really are.
"Wanna dance some more....." you whine, again.
Sunghoon sighs. It’s soft. Exhausted. But not annoyed.
You’re clinging to his arm, your head lolling against his shoulder as you whine about dancing more, the words slightly slurred.
The street is quiet, save for a few passing cars.
He stops under a dim yellow streetlamp, turns slightly toward you, and for a second just… looks at your face. Your cheeks are pink from alcohol and cold air. Your eyes half-lidded with tipsy haze, that pout still on your lips.
Without thinking, Sunghoon lifts his free hand. And gently brushes a strand of hair from your forehead.
The gesture is soft. Tender. So unlike the cold, distant roommate he pretends to be.
For a heartbeat, he just stares at you. Your messy bun half undone, your glittery jewelry catching the streetlight glow. Then you suddenly lean into him and rest your forehead against his chest with a tiny sigh.
Sunghoon freezes.
Your forehead is warm against his chest, your breath soft through the thin fabric of his sweater. The rhythm of it matches the quiet hum of the night.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stands there like a statue that’s been blessed by something sacred.
Slowly, his arms come up around you. Not a full hug at first. Just light, cautious pressure on your back and shoulders, as if making sure you won't collapse or slip away.
And then? He actually hugs you. Gently pulls you closer, resting his chin lightly on top of your head. "Don't wanna walk," you grumble into his chest, eyes fluttering shut. Sunghoon feels your body go heavier against him. Your words are muffled, sleepy, and slightly whiny.
He glances down at you again. Your eyes are closed now, lips slightly parted, breathing slow and even like you might just fall asleep standing up. Without hesitation, he carefully shifts his grip on you, bends one arm under your knees, and lifts. You yelp as he does, the noise loud and high-pitched in the quiet night, before wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, face nuzzling into his neck.
Warm breath. Soft skin. The faint scent of your perfume mixed with alcohol and party air.
It’s too much. His entire body tenses. Heart slamming against his ribs so hard he thinks it might wake you up if you weren’t already half-asleep on him.
Sunghoon starts walking. Slowly. Carefully.
Each step is measured, his arms strong and steady under you as he carries you like something precious. One hand supports your back, the other under your bare thighs, the touch warm.
Your face stays buried in his neck, your breathing soft and warm against his skin with every exhale.
He doesn’t say anything. Just walks through quiet streets lit by orange lamplights, the city hushed around him except for distant car sounds.
His heart hasn't slowed down once since picking you up.
"You're being really nice for someone who hates me, Park Sunghoon," you say after a few minutes of silence.
Sunghoon stops walking for half a second. Your words hit him like ice water. He never hated you. Not really.
It was just easier to act cold. Easier to stay distant. You were loud, messy, chaotic in ways he didn’t understand at first… and yeah, maybe he pushed back because it felt safer than admitting the opposite.
That he noticed you too much.
If anything, he’s been terrified of how much he doesn’t hate you.
How your laugh makes his chest feel warm.
How seeing you in cute, intricate outfits does things to him that he refuses to name.
How right now, holding you this close feels… perfect.
But saying any of that? Impossible.
So instead, Sunghoon just keeps walking, his grip on you tightening slightly as if protecting himself from saying something stupid.
"But it's okay, I like it when you're nice to me," you mumble against his neck, lips curving into a smile.
Sunghoon feels the smile. The tiny curve of your lips against his neck. Warm. Soft. Real. And it undoes him.
Something in his chest cracks open, a quiet explosion of emotion he’s been holding back for months. He doesn’t know what to do with that information. So instead of speaking, he presses a gentle kiss, right on top of your head.
You hum in content, "I liked that, for example." Sunghoon’s breath hitches. His face burns. Ears. Neck. Everything.
For someone who always looks so calm and collected, he’s a mess right now. Heart racing, steps slightly uneven as he carries you through the quiet night.
"You'd be a great boyfriend," you murmur quietly and Sunghoon stops breathing. The words echo in his skull like a bomb just went off. That sentence hits him harder than any compliment ever has.
"You're really nice, and pretty, and patient and a little annoying sometimes, but it's okay, I think it's cute." You ramble on quietly. Sunghoon listens. Every word you mumble into his neck is a tiny revelation, a piece of the puzzle he never knew existed.
"I have fun arguing with you. It's our thing, and I like it. I like you, Park Sunghoon, even though you're the most annoying bitch on the planet."
Sunghoon’s steps stutter. I like you.
The insult would’ve pissed him off. But coming from you now, drunk and honest, with that sleepy affection in your voice? It feels endearing. Like a compliment wrapped in chaos.
His chest tightens. He pulls you closer without thinking, adjusting his hold so your head rests more securely against his shoulder.
"And you always smell so nice, which is a bonus. And you're so strong and buff, it's kinda crazy you don't have any bitches" you rant.
Sunghoon’s ego swells, not in a cocky way, but in a shy, flustered kind of way. He exhales quietly, a small puff of air against your hair. You’re still rambling. Still clinging to him like he’s the safest person in the world right now.
He likes that you see him this way. A tiny part of him wants to say something back. Something real. Raw. Confessing.
But you're drunk. Drunk people say things they don't mean tomorrow. So instead, he presses another soft kiss on your forehead like a lovesick fool.
"You're so sweet, you're giving me free kisses AND carrying me home, even though you hate me," you exclaim with a smile as he turns to enter your building, hands momentarily leaving their place on your thighs to press the button to the elevator.
Sunghoon freezes when you say hate me again. It’s like a knife twisting in his chest every time. The elevator dings open, and he steps inside quickly, still holding you securely as the doors close behind him.
Your legs are slightly loose around his waist, your face still nuzzled into his neck with that dumb little smile on it, calling him sweet like it's nothing.
The elevator hums softly as it ascends, the soft lighting casting warm shadows across Sunghoon’s face. He adjusts you slightly in his arms, one hand supporting your back, the other now resting gently on your thigh to keep you from slipping.
You’re so light. So trusting right now. Like he’s someone safe. Someone good for you. Not a jerk. Not an enemy roommate. But sweet. Strong.
A good guy with no bitches.
The elevator reaches your floor with a soft ding. Sunghoon steps out, still holding you effortlessly. He walks down the hallway quietly, each step muffled by carpet.
Your dorm is dark as he unlocks the door. Carefully, Sunghoon shifts to open your bedroom door with his foot, then steps inside.
Sunghoon gently lays you down on your bed.
The mattress dips slightly under his weight as he kneels beside it, making sure you’re settled properly. Your legs curl instinctively toward the center of the bed, like a cat finding its perfect spot.
He grabs a blanket from the foot of your bed and drapes it over you, tucking it loosely around your shoulders. You’re still half-asleep, breathing slow and even, your lips slightly parted. Hair messy. Cheeks still pink from alcohol.
Sunghoon brushes a stray hair from your forehead again. It’s become his favorite thing to do tonight. A quiet, soft gesture that feels more intimate than anything else he’s done all night.
He stares at you for a long moment. Watching the way your chest rises and falls with each breath. How peaceful you look now compared to the wild party version of you earlier.
Then, without thinking, he leans down and presses one last kiss on your cheek, because apparently, he's now a pathetic guy in love with someone he's supposed to hate.
Your eyes blink open, staring at him as you mumble, "Have I ever told you you're really pretty, Hoonie?"
Sunghoon freezes. Your eyes are actually looking at him. And you’re calling him Hoonie. Soft. Affectionate. Drunk, but so, so sweet.
His heart stutters like it forgot how to beat properly. For once, he isn’t hiding behind glasses or books or cold silence.
Without thinking, he leans in slowly and kisses you. The kiss is messy. Not graceful. Not romantic like in movies. But real. You kiss him back to the best of your drunk, sleep-riddled brain's ability.
Your lips are warm, slightly clumsy from alcohol and sleepiness, moving against his with clumsy eagerness as you kiss him back. His hands slowly cup your face, gentle but firm, deepening the kiss just slightly as he pours every quiet feeling he's had for months into this one moment.
You giggle as he pulls back, mumbling, "More free kisses."
Sunghoon smiles. Actually smiles. A real, soft smile that lights up his whole face. Your eyes soften as they land on his smile, not some half-smirk you were used to seeing but a full-blown smile, fangs on display.
You cup his face softly before murmuring, "You're so pretty when you smile, Hoonie."
You called him pretty. Again. But this time? With so much softness in your voice, like the sight of him smiling is something precious. Your hands are warm on his cheeks, thumbs brushing lightly over his skin as you stare at him with those hazy, affectionate eyes.
He feels exposed. Vulnerable. Like every defense he ever built around himself has crumbled in one night of drunk confessions and gentle touches. Sunghoon leans into your touch. His eyes flutter shut for a second, savoring the warmth of your palms on his face.
Then, without hesitation, he kisses you again. This time slower. Softer. More intentional. You laugh again after he pulls back, and that bright, tipsy giggle fills the quiet room like music.
It makes his chest feel warm. Light. Like he’s floating a little.
He smiles again at the sound of it, fangs still showing.
"Cuddle?" you ask softly, blinking up at him. Sunghoon’s eyes soften. He doesn’t answer with words. He carefully climbs onto the bed beside you, lifting the blanket and scooting close.
Gently, he wraps one arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, adjusting so your head rests comfortably against his chest. You snuggle into his side, tucked into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist.
You fit perfectly against him, small and warm and his in this quiet moment. He presses his lips to the top of your head, a soft kiss that lingers just a second too long. He rests his chin on top of your head, closing his eyes as contentment washes over him, lulling him to sleep.
You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, groaning at the light shining on your face. The morning light is cruel. Your head pounds like a drumline at practice.
Your mouth feels like cotton, and the taste of cheap party drinks still lingers. You change quickly into soft pajamas, avoiding your reflection for as long as possible, until you finally glance in the mirror.
And then it hits you.
Everything.
Drinking too much. Dancing wildly with Jake. Sunghoon showing up out of nowhere looking unfairly hot in that sweater. Then him carrying you home. Kissing you. Holding your drunk self all night while cuddling.
Did I call him pretty?
Did I say I liked arguing with him?
I called him "Hoonie."
Oh fuck no.
You scream internally, crashing down onto your bed face-first. You bury your face into the pillow, muffling a groan of pure embarrassment.
Why did I do that? I kissed Park Sunghoon. Multiple times.
Now your heart is doing somersaults, and not from alcohol this time. You’re sitting there, pale-faced and horrified… because deep down?
The crush isn’t just possible anymore. It's real.
And worse?
Sunghoon is your roommate. Your cold, quiet, annoyingly perfect roommate who never looked at you twice, until last night.
Did he even remember the kisses? The cuddling? Your drunk ramblings about him being pretty and strong and cute when annoyed?
Or worse… did it mean nothing to him? Was it just pity because you were drunk?
Your stomach twists. Not from a hangover this time. Dread floods your system along with panic. You sit there in bed overthinking every possible situation before coming to the conclusion that acting like it never happened is the best solution.
That you could just pretend it was all the alcohol for the sake of your friendship? enemyship? Whatever it was, you weren't going to lose it to some drunken shenanigans of yours.
So yeah. Forget it ever happened. No mention of kisses. No lingering stares.
You steel yourself before walking back out into the living room, rubbing at your head. The house is exceptionally quiet.
Riki must have his dance class, Jake's most probably out playing basketball with Heeseung, and Yunjin's probably at her boyfriend's place.
You pad out into the kitchen, and freeze immediately when u see a tall, familiar figure.
Sunghoon is sitting at the kitchen table. A textbook is open in front of him, but he’s not reading. Just… staring at the wall, lost in thought. He’s in sweatpants and a plain gray hoodie. Hair slightly messy from running his hands through it too many times.
The second you step into the room, he hears your footstep.
Sunghoon turns his head.
Slowly.
His dark eyes land on you, and for a split second? Something flickers across his face.
Nervousness? Shyness? Hope? He doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches as you stand there in your oversized sleep shirt, hair messy from napping all day.
The silence stretches. Thick. Heavy. Full of everything that happened last night… and everything they haven’t said since.
"Hi, where have you been all morning?" you ask, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of cold water. Sunghoon clears his throat. “Library,” he says, voice calm. Too calm. Like he’s forcing it to sound normal.
He closes the textbook slowly, not looking at you directly as you move around the kitchen. You can feel his eyes on you though. Watching how you open the fridge, how your hair falls over one shoulder, how relaxed and unbothered you seem compared to him.
"Also, uh thanks for bringing me home last night. I have no memories of what weird ass shit I did last night, but I apologise anyways," you say with a curtsy, a desperate attempt at clearing out the awkwardness flooding the room.
Sunghoon’s jaw tightens.
No memories.
That stings more than it should. He stares at you, the way you curtsy so casually like nothing happened. Like last night wasn’t everything to him.
“You… don’t remember?” he asks quietly.
"Nope, not a clue, but apparently I called you Hoonie last night? according to Jake? and I was super clingy according to Riki and Yunjin, so my apologies once again,"
“You… yeah,” he says softly, voice low. “You called me Hoonie.” There’s a pause. Then: “And you hugged me a lot.”
"I'm sorry okay?" you cry out, "Let's just forget it happened okay? I was drunk off my ass"
Sunghoon’s smile dies instantly.
Forget it happened?
Just… erase the whole night? The kisses. The cuddling.
His expression shutters. That soft look from seconds ago? Gone. Replaced by something colder. Distant.
He nods once. Short. Stiff.
“Right,” he says quietly, turning his gaze back to the textbook.
"Deal?"
Like this is a business transaction. A truce. He exhales through his nose. Slowly. Then, finally, nods.
One stiff, mechanical nod.
No smile. No warmth. Just quiet acceptance of your terms.
The silence stretches.
But you can feel it. That coldness radiating off him now. Not anger… but distance. Emotional retreat.
The warmth from last night? Gone. Replaced by polite indifference.
You turn around and walk back into your room, steps heavy and heart heavier, cracking open with something you're afraid to call heart break.
pixelskylines
stormborns
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
2087
blakekathryn
