synopsis: senior year isn’t magical for y/n—stuck between school, diner shifts, and her stepsisters’ teasing, she feels invisible to everyone except the anonymous boy she messages every night. at school, jake is the popular golden boy hiding behind expectations, only truly himself with the girl who signs off at 11:59. when they agree to meet at the winter formal, one perfect dance feels like fate—until y/n disappears before midnight, leaving jake searching for the girl who’s been right in front of him all along.
genre: romcom, fluff, angst
back to masterlist | next part
inspired by ‘a cinderella story’ (we cheered)
no plagiarizing pls | hate = blocked
reblog 4 a kiss ! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎
contains: based in the 2000s, mild suggestive scenes (kissing, making out, skinship), cursing, adult jokes, jake is a YEARNER, reader has a bitchy stepmom + snarky stepsisters, sunoo as readers bff, basically all of enha mentioned (duh), mutual pining, angst, reader IS DOWNBAD for jake, highschool setting, mentions of character death, RAIN CONFESSIONS, happy ending !!
pt. 2 wc: 9.6k
now playing: kiss me - sixpence none the richer, transform - daniel caesar (ft. charlotte day wilson), she will be loved - maroon 5, hear you me - jimmy eat world, dance with me - bruno mars, raindance - dave (ft. tems), letter home - childish gambino, come back - the five stairsteps, every breath you take - the police, cinderella - mac miller (ft. ty dolla $ign), any yearner song tbh
𐬽 . ♡︎
The second your bedroom door shut behind you, everything hit at once.
Not loudly, or dramatically. Just slowly, all at once, like something heavy finally collapsing after being held together for too long.
You dropped your backpack onto the floor near your desk without even bothering to unzip it. The books inside landed with a dull thud, papers crumpling somewhere between the mess of homework and loose pens stuffed into the bag.
Normally, you would’ve picked it up immediately. Jiwon hated clutter. She hated when your things were left around the house like evidence that somebody else lived there.
But right now, you didn’t care.
You barely even kicked your shoes off before collapsing face-first onto your bed.
The mattress dipped beneath you as you buried your face into the pillow, your chest tightening painfully. Your room smelled faintly like detergent and the vanilla lotion Giselle had bought you months ago because she said your room “looked like sadness.” The string lights above your desk glowed dimly against the darkening evening sky outside your window, casting soft gold across your walls.
Usually, your room was the one place you could breathe. Tonight, even that felt difficult. You groaned softly into the pillow, gripping the sheets beneath your fingers.
It was so stupid. The whole fucking thing was stupid. You were upset over a stupid high school dance. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t really about the formal.
It was about the fact that every single time you tried to ask for something for yourself, it somehow became an argument. Somehow became selfish. Somehow turned into another reminder that your life wasn’t really yours yet.
Jiwon always knew exactly what to say too. The moment you started wanting something, she found a way to make you feel guilty for it.
The diner’s understaffed.
Nobody wants someone like you there anyway.
Do you still wanna go to Columbia?
The words replayed in your head over and over until your stomach twisted. You squeezed your eyes shut tighter. Part of you hated how easily she got inside your head. Because now, even after standing your ground for the first time in your life, you still felt selfish for wanting to go.
You rolled onto your side slowly, staring blankly at the wall beside your bed. Maybe Jiwon was right. Maybe there really was no point in going.
You could already picture it too clearly. Everyone dressed beautifully. Everyone laughing with their friends while you stood awkwardly near the wall pretending you belonged there.
You could also picture Hyeji whispering something cruel to Mina and Yeseo. People staring and laughing.
You pictured Hera and Haneul cackling about how pathetic you would look, or other people who found it funny that the diner girl trying to play dress up for one night.
Your chest ached.
And now you had to tell Sunoo. That part hurt the most. Because Sunoo had been so excited about it all week. He’d practically begged you to go with him. Not because he needed a date, but because he genuinely wanted you there.
He wanted you to have fun—and that made it worse. Because now you were going to disappoint him too.
You sighed shakily and pressed your face back into the pillow. For a second, you genuinely thought you might cry.
Then—
Beep.
The sound of your cellphone cut cleanly through the silence of your room.
You stayed still for a moment. Another beep followed.
Slowly, you lifted your head from the pillow and reached toward your nightstand. Your flip phone rested beside a stack of unfinished homework and a cup you forgot to bring downstairs three days ago.
You flipped the phone open tiredly.
And immediately, your expression softened.
soccerlvrr1115:
how was ur day stargirl
A quiet laugh escaped you before you could stop it. Of course it was him. It was strange how consistent he’d become in your life. No matter how horrible your day was, he always seemed to text at exactly the right moment.
You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling while your fingers moved carefully across the keypad.
stargirl_0327:
it was horrible lol
soccerlvrr1115:
oh
soccerlvrr1115:
what happened ?
stargirl_0327:
my stepmoms been giving me a hard time :(( im okay though
soccerlvrr1115:
oh
soccerlvrr1115:
im sorry stargirl i rly wish there was sumthing i could do to help
soccerlvrr1115:
look on the bright side though !
soccerlvrr1115:
the formal’s tomorrow :)
You looked away from the screen for a second before typing slower this time.
stargirl_0327:
ya... i guess
You didn't know if you should tell him. The typing bubbles popped up almost immediately. Then stopped. Then appeared again.
You frowned slightly, and when his next message finally came through, your chest tightened unexpectedly.
soccerlvrr1115:
this is random but do you ever wonder what itd be like if we met
soccerlvrr1115:
like actually met
soccerlvrr1115:
maybe even at the dance
You stared at the words for a second too long.
Another message followed quickly after.
soccerlvrr1115:
i really wanna see you stargirl
soccerlvrr1115:
ur kinda been the only girl on my mind for the past few months
Your breath caught softly. Warmth spread through your chest, melting against all the heaviness that had been sitting there moments ago.
You smiled before you could stop yourself. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even know what he looked like. You didn’t know his real name.
You only knew him as soccerlvrr1115 — the mysterious boy you started telling everything to over the past several months. But even then, talking to him had become the safest part of your day.
You rolled onto your stomach again, hugging your pillow beneath your arms as you typed carefully.
stargirl_0327:
flattery only gets u so far soccer boy
stargirl_0327:
but um
stargirl_0327:
idrk if i can make it tomorrow
His response came quicker this time.
soccerlvrr1115:
aw its okay no worries
soccerlvrr1115:
we'll meet one day anyway
soccerlvrr1115:
i know it :)
You stared at the screen quietly. Something about the confidence in his words made your chest uneasy.
He genuinely believed you two would cross paths. And maybe, part of you wanted to believe it too. Your fingers hovered over the keypad for a moment before you typed again.
stargirl_0327:
what are u even dressing up as if u go
You waited only a few seconds before your phone beeped again.
soccerlvrr1115:
my friends wanted to be musketeers
soccerlvrr1115:
they told me i should be their prince apparently
soccerlvrr1115:
their idea sounds silly :/
A laugh escaped you immediately. You could practically picture him rolling his eyes while typing it.
stargirl_0327:
u probably do look exactly like a prince tho lol
There was a long pause after that one, long enough that you started smiling to yourself.
Then—
soccerlvrr1115:
wow
soccerlvrr1115:
being bold now, r we ?
You buried your face into the pillow with a quiet groan. Why was this making your stomach flutter?
Another message came through almost immediately.
soccerlvrr1115:
what would u wear if u happened to show up
You paused. You hadn’t even thought that far ahead, because up until now, going never felt real.
stargirl_0327:
no idea
stargirl_0327:
cuz i dont even know if i can go
The typing bubbles appeared instantly.
soccerlvrr1115:
yeah but it would mean a lot if u tried
Your chest tightened softly, and you bit your lip before replying.
stargirl_0327:
i really wanna see you too
stargirl_0327:
i wanna know who soccerlvrr1115 actually is
The typing bubbles appeared again.
Then—
soccerlvrr1115:
u know, ive been thinking 4 a while
soccerlvrr1115:
and i need to get this off my chest
soccerlvrr1115:
check your email, stargirl
You blinked.
Slowly, you sat up from your bed and glanced toward your laptop sitting on your desk. Your stomach fluttered nervously as you walked over and flipped it open.
The old machine hummed loudly while loading. You logged into your email quickly.
You refreshed your emails for a few minutes, seeing that he sent nothing at all. But then, there it was.
From: soccerlvrr1115
Subject: for stargirl
stargirl,
i know this is probably weird because we literally talk every day already, but i wanted to write this properly instead of sending fifty tiny messages like i always do.
i think you should know that talking to you has become my favorite part of every day, seriously.
even on days where everything feels annoying or exhausting or fake, i still catch myself waiting for your messages. sometimes i log on pretending i dont care if youre online, but then you show up and suddenly my entire mood changes. its embarrassing actually. i dont think ive ever met someone who understands me the way you do. which is funny considering we technically havent even met yet.
but somehow you still know me better than most people around me in real life.
i dont know if that sounds pathetic or romantic. maybe both.
i think the first time i realized i really liked you was when we stayed online until almost three in the morning talking about constellations and terrible cafeteria food.
i remember staring at my computer screen smiling like an idiot because i didnt want the conversation to end. and ever since then, youve kinda just stayed on my mind constantly. sometimes ill see something during the day and immediately think “i need to tell stargirl about this later.”
i know we joke around a lot, but i mean this seriously: youre important to me. more important than you probably realize. i dont even care that i dont know exactly what you look like anymore.
obviously i still wanna see you eventually, but somewhere along the way, i think i just started liking you. your mind. your humor. the way you always try to act okay even when i know youre not. the way you notice things nobody else does.
you feel real. and i know this sounds insane considering we only know each other through screens and usernames, but sometimes talking to you feels more honest than talking to anyone else in my actual life.
i really wanna meet you tomorrow. i think if i saw you, id recognize you immediately somehow. i dont know how to explain it. i just would. and if you do show up, i promise i’ll find you. even if it takes the whole night. so please try to come, okay? i really want to finally meet my stargirl.
— soccerlvrr1115
Your heart suddenly sped up. And the moment you started reading, your chest tightened. Because it wasn’t just a message. It was a love letter. A real one.
Long paragraphs filled with thoughts he’d apparently been holding onto for months.
You stared at the screen for a long moment after finishing. Your room was quiet again. But everything inside you felt different now.
The hopeless feeling from earlier had started fading slowly, replaced with something warmer, something... stronger. You looked toward your closet across the room.
Then toward your phone sitting beside the laptop. Toward his messages. Toward the letter still glowing softly on the screen.
And for the first time—you didn’t care what Jiwon said anymore. For the first time in a long time, you wanted something badly enough to fight for it. It gave you a motivation you've never felt before.
Now you had to go to that formal. You just had to.
𐬽 . ♡︎
Saturday felt strange from the moment you woke up.
The kind of strange where everything felt too quiet, too tense, like the entire day was balancing on the edge of something important. Even the sunlight pouring through your bedroom curtains looked softer than usual, pale gold spilling across your blankets and illuminating the mess scattered around your room.
Your school sweater hung over your desk chair. Loose homework papers sat untouched near your laptop. The email from soccerlvrr1115 was still open on the screen from the night before, because you reread it at least six times before falling asleep.
And that made everything worse—because now the formal didn’t just feel like some silly high school event anymore. It wasn’t just about Sunoo begging you to go or finally getting one night to feel normal.
Now there was a person waiting for you there. Somebody who genuinely wanted to meet you. Somebody who had surprisingly become one of the most important parts of your life without ever seeing your face.
Your chest tightened at the thought.
You rolled over in bed and stared at your ceiling for a long moment, exhaustion sitting heavily in your bones despite the fact that you’d technically slept. Downstairs, you could faintly hear cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen. Jiwon was already awake.
Immediately, the dread returned. Because reality always came back eventually. The formal was tonight. And as far as Jiwon was concerned, you weren’t going.
You pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes and let out a slow breath.
Maybe it was better not to think about it. Maybe if you stopped imagining the dance, stopped imagining what soccerlvrr1115 looked like, stopped imagining what it would feel like to finally meet him, it wouldn’t hurt so much.
But even as you tried convincing yourself of that, your flip phone beeped beside you.
A message from Giselle.
giselle:
hey biotch im kidnapping you today
giselle:
be ready in 20 ;)
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. That was the thing about Giselle. Even on your worst days, she somehow found a way to make things feel lighter.
An hour later, you sat curled into the corner of Giselle’s couch while soft music played quietly from somewhere deeper in the house.
Her home always felt warm in a way yours never did.
People actually laughed here. People could talk without walking on eggshells. There were blankets thrown carelessly over couches, candles burning in random corners of rooms, half-finished mugs of coffee abandoned on countertops because nobody was scared of leaving things around.
It felt lived in, safe.
You sat with your knees tucked against your chest while Sunoo occupied the other end of the couch dramatically, one leg hanging over the armrest while he flipped through television channels with zero interest in any of them.
Giselle emerged from the kitchen balancing three iced coffees in her hands. “There,” she sighed while handing one to you. “temporary emotional support.”
You laughed softly and accepted it.
Sunoo took his drink immediately. “Oh my god,” he said after one sip. “I would actually die for you.”
You smiled faintly into your cup. For a little while, things felt normal. The three of you sat together while some random movie played in the background, sunlight spilling lazily across the hardwood floors while the smell of vanilla candles lingered softly through the house.
It almost made you forget about tonight. Almost. Then Giselle suddenly looked over at you. “So,” she said. “give me a life update.”
You groaned immediately. “No.”
“Yes,” she replied firmly. “you disappeared into your own thoughts again. I can literally see it happening.”
Sunoo pointed at you dramatically. “She gets this look.”
“I do not.”
“You do,” both of them said at the same time.
You rolled your eyes and sank deeper into the couch cushions. “There’s nothing to update you guys on,” you muttered. “It’s the same stuff.”
“Meaning?”
You sighed. “School, work. Oh, and don't forget about Jiwon or the twins, who do their usual bullshits to make things harder for me.”
Giselle scoffed loudly. “That hag needs psychological evaluation.”
“Better yet, prison time,” Sunoo added.
You laughed despite yourself. And for a second, things felt easy again.
Until Sunoo suddenly sat upright. “Oh my god, I almost forgot!” Sunoo looked directly at you. “We literally have the formal tonight.”
The room went silent. Your grip tightened slightly around your coffee cup. Because somehow, despite all the stress and disappointment and trying not to think about it, you still hadn’t told him. You hadn’t told Sunoo you weren’t allowed to go.
The excitement slowly disappeared from his face when he noticed your expression. “…Hold on.”
Giselle immediately looked between both of you. “What?” she asked slowly. “Why do you guys suddenly look like somebody died?”
You stared down at your drink. Sunoo already knew. You could tell.
He leaned forward slightly. “Y/N,” he said carefully.
You sighed quietly. “Jiwon's making me work tonight.”
Sunoo blinked. “For the diner?”
You nodded slowly. “And she basically told me I’m not allowed to go.”
The silence afterward felt heavy. Giselle’s expression flattened almost instantly. “You’re joking.”
You shook your head weakly. “She said the diner’s understaffed,” you muttered. “And that there’s no point in me going anyway.”
Sunoo stared at you like he genuinely couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And you just.. what? Accepted that?”
Your chest tightened. “What am I supposed to do?” you asked quietly. The frustration in your own voice surprised even you. Because the truth was, you didn’t know anymore. You were tired, so unbelievably tired.
Tired of fighting Jiwon over every little thing. Tired of feeling guilty every time you wanted something for yourself. Tired of being reminded that your dreams somehow always came second to everybody else’s needs.
Giselle suddenly sat forward on the couch. “You know what? Hell no,” she said firmly.
You looked up at her incredulously.. “No?”
“Hell. No.” she repeated. “Absolutely not!”
Something in her expression had changed now. She looked angry, like she was the one who had been affected.
“That bitch,” she muttered under her breath.
“Giselle—”
“No,” she interrupted sharply. “this is getting ridiculous.” She stood up from the couch so abruptly that Sunoo jumped slightly. “You cannot keep letting Jiwon walk all over you like this!”
You immediately looked away. Because hearing somebody else say it out loud made you shift uncomfortably.
You sighed softly. “No one wins with Jiwon anyway.”
“But why?” Sunoo asked.
You looked at him tiredly.
Sunoo’s expression softened immediately. “Y/N,” he said gently, “you’ve always dreamed about something bigger than this.”
Your throat tightened at his words.
“You talk about Columbia like it’s your escape plan,” he continued. “You wanna leave this town. You wanna actually live your life.”
He frowned. “So why won’t you fight for it?”
You stared down at your hands.
Because in all honesty? You didn’t know. Maybe after years of Jiwon controlling everything, fighting back stopped feeling possible. Somewhere along the way, you’d convinced yourself that surviving was the same thing as living.
“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted quietly.
The room went silent for a moment.
Then—Giselle suddenly smirked. “I know exactly what to do,” Giselle announced proudly.
You blinked at her. “What?”
She pointed directly at you. “You go to that dance.”
You shook your head immediately. “Giselle—”
“Nope,” she interrupted. Then she turned toward Sunoo. “It’s a Halloween dance, right?”
Sunoo nodded slowly. “…Yeah?”
Giselle snapped her fingers. “Perfect.”
Before either of you could ask what she meant, she disappeared down the hallway. You exchanged a confused glance with Sunoo.
“What is she doing?” you whispered.
Sunoo shrugged. “She either found a solution,” he said carefully, “or we’re about to do something extremely stupid.”
A few minutes later, Giselle returned. Dragging a massive white box in her arms.
Your eyebrows lifted immediately. “What is that?”
Giselle dropped it dramatically onto the coffee table before brushing hair from her face. “Your costume, duhh,” she said, as if the answer wasn't already obvious.
Sunoo gasped, walking over to where Giselle was. “Oh my...”
You stared at both of them suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “You guys are being sketchy.”
Giselle ignored you entirely and slowly lifted the lid off the box. And the moment you saw what was inside—your breath caught.
A dress. A beautiful, white dress, folded carefully between layers of tissue paper.
It looked unreal. Soft satin fabric spilled elegantly over the sides of the box while delicate lace detailing shimmered faintly beneath the living room light. The dress looked expensive in a way that made your stomach twist immediately.
Like something rich girls wore in movies. Like something somebody like you wasn’t supposed to touch. Giselle carefully lifted it from the box.
The skirt flowed beautifully as she held it up. And for a moment, you genuinely forgot how to speak.
Sunoo’s jaw literally dropped open. “Okay wait,” he breathed. “That is insane.”
You stared wide-eyed. “Giselle…”
Her expression softened. “It’ll look prettier on you.”
Immediately, you shook your head. “No,” you said quickly. “no, no, I can't take this.”
Giselle frowned. “Why not?”
“Because look at it,” you said helplessly. “Where did you even get something like this?”
Something flickered briefly across Giselle’s face then. Not sadness exactly. Something quieter.
She looked down at the dress for a moment before shrugging lightly. “I guess I was saving it,” she admitted softly, “for what was supposed to be a happily ever after.”
The room quieted. Even Sunoo stopped joking.
Then Giselle sighed dramatically and waved the moment away. “Anyway,” she said quickly. “turns out men are annoying, so now the dress belongs to you.”
You laughed softly despite yourself.
Sunoo nodded seriously. “She’s right. The dress deserves a better love story.”
Then all of a sudden, Sunoo reached into the bag sitting beside him. “And,” he announced proudly, “if you’re gonna be my friend-date—”
He pulled out a white masquerade mask trimmed delicately with lace. It matched the dress quite perfectly.
Your eyes widened. “Sunoo…”
He grinned. “I’m doing masquerade prince vibes,” he explained proudly. “So obviously we have to match!”
You stared between the mask and the dress. And for the first time all day—hope flickered inside your chest.
Real hope.
Then reality hit again. “Wait, but what about Jiwon?”
Giselle rolled her eyes so hard it was almost impressive. “Oh my god. Leave that bitch Jiwon to me.”
You blinked. “What?”
Giselle sat beside you now, her voice gentler. “I’ll handle her,” she promised. “I can cover your shift long enough to get you out of the house, and by the time she notices, you’ll already be gone.”
You stared at her. “She’ll freak out.”
“She freaks out recreationally,” Sunoo muttered.
You snorted. But your hesitation still lingered. Because this felt impossible.. too good to be real.
“But eventually she’ll notice,” you said quietly. “What if she calls the diner?”
Giselle waved a dismissive hand immediately. “She won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Jiwon’s lazy,” Giselle replied bluntly. “She likes controlling people, not actually checking up on things herself.”
You chuckled softly.
But Giselle leaned forward again, her tone gentler now. “Listen carefully, okay?” she said. “You just need to be smart about it.”
You looked at her nervously. Giselle pointed toward you dramatically like she was outlining a heist plan. “You go to the formal. You stay until before midnight. Then you leave, head back to the diner, and clock in for the rest of the shift.”
Your eyebrows lifted slightly. “What?”
“That way,” Giselle explained, “if Jiwon checks later, you’d already be there working, like nothing happened.”
Sunoo’s eyes widened. “Oh wait,” he said. “That’s actually genius.”
Giselle flipped her hair proudly. “I know.”
You stared at her for a moment, processing the plan slowly. “So… it’ll look like I worked the whole night?”
“Exactly,” Giselle said. “You won’t get caught sneaking around, and Jiwon won’t suspect anything.”
Your stomach fluttered nervously. The plan sounded possible, actually possible. And that made everything feel even scarier—because now you didn’t really have an excuse anymore.
You looked down at the white dress spread carefully across your lap, fingers brushing lightly over the satin fabric. It was so soft it barely felt real beneath your fingertips. You couldn’t imagine yourself wearing something this beautiful. Couldn’t imagine walking into a room full of people and not immediately wanting to disappear.
And yet—part of you wanted it so badly your chest hurt.
Giselle reached over and squeezed your hand gently. “You’ve done so much for everybody else,” she said softly. “Let us help you for once.”
Your chest tightened so painfully. Because nobody had ever said that to you. No one had ever looked at you like your happiness mattered too. You looked between your to bestest friends, with hopeful looks on their face. Then, you bring them both in for a hug, clutching onto them tightly. They hugged back instantly.
"Thank you," you whispered.
And slowly—the hopeless feeling inside your chest began fading away.
Maybe Jiwon wasn’t impossible after all. Maybe for once—
You could choose yourself.
𐬽 . ♡︎
now playing: kiss me by sixpence none the richer
By the time you and Sunoo finally arrived at the formal, the sky outside had already gone completely dark.
Everything had gone wrong trying to get there. First, sneaking out of the house had been nearly impossible.
Giselle had managed to distract Jiwon downstairs long enough for you to slip into the guest bathroom and change, but the second you stepped into the white dress, panic hit you immediately.
The thing was huge. Beautiful, but huge. Layers of satin and soft fabric spilled around your legs every time you moved, making it nearly impossible to walk quietly through the house.
You’d nearly fallen down the stairs.
Sunoo, meanwhile, had taken an absurd amount of time getting ready. Apparently the “masquerade prince” costume he had prepared for himself required an unhealthy amount of hair product.
“You do realize no guy has ever took that much time to get ready, right?” you’d whispered aggressively while hiding behind the front door as he fixed his hair in the reflection of the hallway mirror for the tenth time.
Sunoo gasped dramatically. “That is a horrible thing to say to somebody wearing velvet.”
Now, nearly forty minutes later than everyone else, the two of you hurried across the parking lot toward the ballroom venue while cold October wind brushed against your bare shoulders.
Well—mostly bare.
Because somewhere between leaving the house and getting out of your car, you’d panicked and stolen his cape.
The long royal-colored fabric was wrapped around most of your figure now, hiding the dress underneath almost entirely while you clutched the edges tightly against yourself.
Sunoo looked personally offended every time he glanced at you.
“You cannot keep hiding this dress,” he complained while the two of you walked toward the entrance. “you should know, you look gorgeous, Y/N!”
You shot him a nervous look. “Do you know how terrifying this is for me?”
Sunoo softened slightly at that, the teasing expression faded from his face as he looked at you carefully. “You okay?”
You laughed nervously. “Hell no.”
That earned a small smile from him. Sunoo knew you too well to push immediately.
The music from inside the ballroom echoed faintly through the large doors ahead while groups of students laughed nearby, taking pictures underneath strings of orange lights and fake cobweb decorations.
Then your phone buzzed.
Your breath caught, and without even checking, you already knew who it was.
Sunoo noticed your expression immediately. “Oh my gosh,” he gasped dramatically. “is that who I think it is?”
You rolled your eyes while pulling your phone from your clutch. “It’s not like that.”
“It’s exactly like that.” Sunoo says, smirking.
Ignoring him, you looked down at the screen.
soccerlvrr1115:
hey stargirl. you still coming?
Despite your nerves, you smiled. Your fingers hovered over the keypad for a second before typing back quickly.
stargirl_0327:
ya im actually going ^^
stargirl_0327:
im just a tad late
The reply came almost immediately.
soccerlvrr1115:
how am i supposed to find u ?
You paused, then slowly, you typed—
stargirl_0327:
you’ll know it when u see it :)
Sunoo peeked over your shoulder immediately. His mouth dropped open dramatically. “Oh, well that was smooth.”
You shoved your phone back into your clutch instantly. “Mind your business, will you?”
It was crazy, really. That tiny interaction between you and your online friend settled your nerves just enough to finally move toward the entrance.
The ballroom doors opened almost immediately once you stepped inside. The place was breathtaking to look at.
The entire ballroom glowed gold beneath enormous chandeliers hanging overhead. White drapery flowed elegantly along the ceilings while fake candlelight flickered softly around the room.
Halloween decorations blended surprisingly beautifully with the formal atmosphere—black roses, gold masks, strings of warm lights wrapped around pillars.
Music echoed across the polished dance floor while students crowded together laughing, dancing, and taking photos near the staircase entrance.
For a moment, you just stared, because you’d never been anywhere like this before.
But then, panic came rushing back. “Oh my god,” you whispered. “There’s so many fucking people.”
Sunoo glanced at you before immediately noticing how tightly you were still holding his cape around yourself.
He sighed. “Y/N.”
“What?”
“You haven’t even walked in properly yet,” Sunoo stepped in front of you suddenly. “Come on, you need to take this cape off.”
Your eyes widened immediately. “No!”
Sunoo groaned loudly. “You know normal people want to look good at dances, right?”
You swallowed nervously. You didn’t know how to explain this feeling to him. The fear of being perceived—the fear of people looking too long and realizing it was you, underneath all this satin and lace. The fear that the second they recognized you, the illusion would shatter.
You still hadn’t even put your lace mask on yet. It rested nervously between your fingers while you avoided looking directly at the crowd ahead.
Sunoo noticed immediately, and without warning, he gently took the mask from your hands.
You blinked. “What are you doing?”
“Helping.”
Before you could protest, he carefully lifted the delicate white lace mask toward your face, tying it securely behind your head before adjusting it gently.
The soft lace rested perfectly against your skin. Sunoo stepped back proudly. “There.”
You looked at him nervously. “I still feel ridiculous.”
His expression softened almost instantly. “Look. Tonight, you aren’t the Y/N people know of because you work at the diner,” he said quietly. “you’re a beautiful girl, at a dance, looking to have a good time.”
Your chest filled with warmth. Sunoo had a way with words, and that was one of the reasons you had confided in him so much. He knew exactly what to say to calm you down. You looked away quickly before he could notice how emotional that made you.
Then reluctantly—you loosened your grip on the cape.
The cool air brushed softly against your bare shoulders as you slipped it off carefully and handed it back to Sunoo.
And the second he saw the full dress again his eyes widened. “Whoa.”
You immediately looked down. “Don’t.”
“No seriously,” he said softly. “Y/N.”
You glanced back up. Sunoo stared at you in complete admiration. The white satin hugged your figure beautifully while delicate lace traced along your neckline and sleeves. The skirt flowed elegantly around your legs, catching golden light every time you shifted.
“It really does suit you,” he admitted quietly.
Warmth quickly rushed to your ears. Before you could respond, Sunoo suddenly smiled mischievously. “Okay!” he announced. “I’m going down first.”
You blinked. “Wait—what?”
“You need a dramatic entrance, so I’m giving you one.”
“No the hell I don't—”
Before you could argue, Sunoo had already descended the ballroom staircase confidently, prince cape flowing dramatically behind him, leaving you standing there alone at the top.
Below, the ballroom stretched endlessly beneath glowing chandeliers and moving crowds.
You suddenly couldn’t breathe properly. Then Sunoo looked back up at you from the bottom of the staircase, and smiled reassuringly.
You inhaled slowly, and took one step, then another.
The satin skirt pooled softly around your feet as you carefully lifted the front of the dress slightly to avoid tripping down the stairs.
Slowly—the room quieted. You could feel your stomach dropping instantly, because people were staring, actually staring, at you.
Whispers spread softly through the crowd.
“Who is that?”
“She’s gorgeous…”
“Do you know her?”
“Oh my god…”
Haneul and Hera were just by the tables, when they see you, coming in. They were both wearing a ridiculous banana costume, and you were just.. there, stealing their spotlight from them. You could feel their icy glare.
By this point, you wanted the floor to swallow you whole.
Across the ballroom, Jake had been laughing with Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Riki near the refreshment table. His prince costume made him look divine, catching everyone's eyes.
He wore a dark royal jacket. gold embroidery paired with white gloves.
Riki had spent most of the night calling him “Your Highness” just to be annoying. Jake had been mid-laugh at something Jungwon said when movement near the staircase caught his eye.
He turned absentmindedly, then froze completely. Because standing at the top of the staircase was the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen.
White satin shimmered beneath the ballroom lights while lace framed the delicate masquerade mask covering the upper half of her face. The dress flowed around her like something straight out of a fairytale.
Jake genuinely forgot how to function for a second. Because something about her felt... familiar. He couldn't label it.
“That girl's costume is pretty,” Riki muttered beside him.
Jake barely heard him, because the second she looked up—their eyes met. And suddenly the entire ballroom disappeared around him.
Meanwhile, your heart nearly stopped the second you realized Jake Sim was staring directly at you. It wasn't casually staring either. He'd gone completely frozen, like he forgot where he was.
Heat rushed into your face and you looked away immediately, ears burning beneath your hair. Why was he looking at you like that?
You hurried toward Sunoo through the crowd, heartbeat pounding painfully against your ribs. “Oh my fucking god,” you whispered once you reached him. "I didn't expect for so many people to be staring.”
“Because you look hot,” Sunoo replied simply.
You glared at him. “Be serious, Sun.”
“I am.”
Before you could answer, Sunoo suddenly pointed toward the refreshment table. “I’m gonna get a drink,” he cheerfully announced.
Your eyes widened. “What? No—”
“You’ll survive.”
Then he disappeared into the crowd before you could stop him, leaving you awkwardly standing alone near the edge of the dance floor.
Immediately, panic returned. You stood there clutching your tiny purse nervously while slow music echoed softly across the ballroom.
You had absolutely no idea what to do. Then—a guy approached you, and you stiffened.
“Hi,” he said nervously, looking at you with awe. “You look really beautiful tonight, whoever you are.”
Your stomach sank. Please, please, please don’t let this be soccerlvrr1115.
“Um, thanks,” you answered politely.
The guy rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “So uh… do you maybe wanna dance?”
Panic immediately flooded your mind, because what the hell were you even supposed to say?
You opened your mouth awkwardly. “Oh, I—”
"Hey man, she's with me,” A voice came from beside you.
Jake.
He stood beside you now, one hand shoved casually into his pocket while his eyes remained fixed on the guy in front of you. You didn't even notice he was approaching you.
Jake nodded toward him slightly. "I got it from here."
The guy looked between both of you before rolling his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered. “she wasn’t worth it anyway.”
Your eyebrows furrowed immediately. Jake’s jaw tightened slightly as the guy walked away into the crowd.
Then, silence settled between the two of you. Your heart started pounding so violently, you could hear it in your ears. Because Jake was now looking directly at you.
Close enough that you could actually see the details of his costume. Gold embroidery traced along the edges of his jacket while his dark hair fell slightly over his forehead beneath the ballroom lights.
Jake hesitated for a second, then quietly asked—“…Stargirl?”
It takes a moment for you to register, but when you do, you feel your heart drop.
Jake Sim?
Jake Sim.. was soccerlvrr1115.
The same Jake who everyone adored and loved, the same Jake who always looked at you with pity.
Why did the hell did it have to be him?
Your thoughts spiraled. This would be dangerous, complicated, and messy if you weren't careful around him.
But then—you realized something.
Jake still didn’t recognize you.
Maybe it was the mask, or the dress, or maybe because the actual Y/N would never dare to wear something like this.
You stared at him in disbelief. “…Jake Sim,” you breathed. “you’re soccer lover??”
Jake nodded slowly. Then held his hand out toward you carefully. “Wanna go somewhere else?"
You hesitated. Every logical thought in your brain screamed no. Reluctantly—you nodded.
Jake smiled softly before taking your hand gently, and immediately, warmth spread through your chest. He led you carefully through the ballroom crowd toward the garden doors outside. While walking, your eyes briefly caught Hyeji standing near the dance floor.
And the second she saw Jake holding your hand—her expression darkened completely. She wore a simple angel costume, but she was the complete opposite of one.
The red solo cup in her hand crushed slightly beneath her grip. Your stomach twisted and you quickly looked away.
Now you had Hyeji to deal with.
𐬽 . ♡︎
Outside, the cool night air wrapped around you softly. The garden behind the ballroom was lit beautifully with hanging lanterns and tiny fairy lights woven through bushes and trees. Music from inside echoed faintly through the open doors while couples wandered quietly along stone pathways nearby.
Jake was still holding your hand, and neither of you bothered to let go. He looked over at you, smiling softly in disbelief. “You actually came.”
Your chest fluttered. “You did ask me to come.”
Jake laughed quietly. “And here I was, starting to think you weren’t gonna show.”
He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “Why the mask?”
You hesitated. “I didn’t want so much attention, I guess."
Jake looked at you for a moment longer. Then smiled softly. “Well,” he admitted, “that definitely failed. didn't it?”
Then, after a small pause, Jake asked quietly—“Would you like to dance with me?”
You nod slowly, and Jake stepped closer carefully, one hand settling gently against your waist while your hand rested lightly against his shoulder.
And as the distant music drifted softly through the night air—you realized this was the closest you’d ever been to him.
You could hear the music even from outside in the garden now, the bass muffled through the ballroom walls while laughter spilled through the open doors every few seconds.
Somewhere inside, people were screaming over some song the DJ had just switched to. The fairy lights strung across the garden trees glowed softly against the dark night sky, flickering gold whenever the wind stirred the branches.
And for some reason, standing out there beside Jake, everything felt quieter, like the world had narrowed down into this one tiny moment.
Your hand still rested against his shoulder while his hand stayed carefully at your waist, warm even through the layers of satin and lace. He was taller up close than you remembered. Taller than he looked in school hallways surrounded by soccer teammates and noisy crowds. Out here, away from everybody else, he didn’t feel like the untouchable golden boy everyone stared at.
He just felt like Jake. The boy who stayed up until two in the morning asking you what your favorite constellation was. The boy who sent you dumb messages during class about how cafeteria mashed potatoes looked radioactive. The boy who somehow listened better than anybody else in your life.
It made your chest ache in the strangest way.
Jake looked down at you carefully, almost like he still couldn’t fully believe you were real. “You know,” he said quietly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I had like… fifty different ideas in my head about what you’d look like.”
"Oh god," You laughed softly before looking away.
"I'm serious," He smiled.
Jake held you carefully, almost cautiously, like he was scared this entire moment would disappear if he moved too fast. He looked unfairly beautiful tonight.
The dark prince jacket fit him perfectly, gold detailing catching softly beneath the garden lights while strands of dark hair fell messily over his forehead. Without the noise of school surrounding him, without Hyeji hanging off his arm or his teammates crowding around him, Jake felt… different.
The two of you swayed slowly beneath the lantern lights while music drifted softly from inside the ballroom. For a while, neither of you spoke. Not because it was awkward—but because somehow, the silence itself felt intimate.
Jake looked down at you carefully, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You know,” he said softly, “I still can’t believe you’re real.”
You looked away shyly. “That sounds a little dramatic.”
“It is dramatic,” Jake admitted with a laugh. “But you have to understand something.”
He tilted his head slightly, eyes still fixed on you. “For months, you’ve basically just existed in my phone.”
A laugh escaped you quietly. “That sounds kind of creepy when you say it like that.”
Jake grinned. “Okay, fair.”
The sound of his laughter settled warmly inside your chest. It was strange. You’d imagined meeting soccerlvrr1115 so many times before, but somehow this felt nothing like you expected.
It felt quieter, more honest.
Jake’s expression softened slightly as he looked at you again. “I feel like I pictured meeting you wrong.”
Your brows lifted. “What do you mean?”
“I thought it’d be awkward.”
You laughed softly. “Well I think this is a little awkward.”
“No, no,” he said immediately. “not in like... a bad way.”
His thumb shifted slightly against your waist unconsciously. “It feels…” He hesitated for a second before laughing under his breath. “I don’t know. Familiar.”
Your chest tightened. Because you felt it too. That terrifying sense of familiarity, like you’d known him longer than you actually had.
Jake looked down briefly before speaking again. “You know what’s weird?”
“What?”
“You’re quieter in person.”
You scoffed softly. “It's not like I'm loud online.”
Jake gave you a look. “You sent me fourteen messages once because you were partnered up with some weirdo in biology.”
“He was weird!”
Jake laughed again, head tilting back slightly. “Oh my god, you’re serious.”
“You don’t understand,” you defended dramatically. “that teacher definitely had it out for me when she paired me with that guy.”
Jake shook his head, still smiling. “There she is.”
Your breath caught a little bit. You couldn’t really grasp at the fact how easily Jake recognized you even without knowing who you really were.
But then that realization made your stomach twist. Because Jake didn’t know. He didn’t know the girl he spent months talking to online was the same girl people bullied in school hallways, the girl who worked herself exhausted every single day.
You weren’t sure what would happen when he found out. The thought sat heavily in your chest.
Jake must’ve noticed your expression shift because his smile faded slightly. “What?”
You blinked quickly. “Oh, it's nothing.”
“You got quiet.”
You laughed nervously. “You're so observant.”
Jake’s gaze stayed on you carefully. “I kinda have to be when it comes to you.”
Your heartbeat stumbled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He smiled faintly. “I can never seem to figure you out,”
You didn't say anything about that. If only he knew. You looked away toward the glowing ballroom windows instead. Couples moved across the dance floor inside while colored lights flickered softly against the glass.
Jake’s voice softened. "You know what I like about you?" He asks.
You looked back at him slowly. “What?”
"Whenever I talk to you," he pauses. "I don't need to pretend, or anything. Talking to you made me comfortable just being myself." The sincerity in his voice nearly hurt.
You swallowed hard. You were never that type of person to someone, until Jake.
People only noticed when you were useful, or when you worked hard.
But Jake—Jake noticed the parts of you nobody else paid attention to. And that scared you more than anything.
You laughed quietly to break the tension. "You really feel that way about me?"
“Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I do.”
The honesty in his voice caught you off guard. Jake looked away briefly toward the garden fountain before speaking again. “At school, it’s like…” He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. Everybody expects something from me all the time.”
Your brows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”
Jake shrugged awkwardly. “Soccer. Grades. Friends. Hyeji.” He laughed quietly, though it sounded tired this time. “Sometimes it feels like people only like the version of me that’s useful to them.”
The words hit you harder than they should have. Because you understood that feeling far too well.
Jake glanced back at you, voice quieter now. “But with you…” He hesitated. “I don’t really feel like I have to pretend.”
Your chest tightened again. The garden suddenly felt too small. Without realizing it, the two of you had stopped dancing entirely. You were just standing there now, close enough to hear each other breathe.
You looked up at him carefully. “No one’s ever understood me the way you do.” You don't even notice the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Jake froze slightly. And for a second, neither of you spoke. The cold night air brushed softly against your skin while fairy lights flickered above the two of you.
Jake looked at you like the rest of the world had disappeared. Then quietly—"Yeah,” he admitted. “I think you’re the only person that really gets me too.”
Your heart ached, because you wanted this so badly. You wanted this version of Jake to be real.
Not the popular golden boy everyone chased after. Just this—the boy standing in front of you now beneath fairy lights, looking at you like you hung the moon.
Jake smiled softly then. “You know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“I thought meeting you would make things less confusing.”
You laughed quietly. “And?”
“It only made it worse.”
Warmth spread into your cheeks.
Jake’s eyes stayed fixed on your face. “I mean,” he muttered softly. “you’re prettier than I imagined.”
Your stomach flipped. "Jake—”
“No, I’m dead serious.”
The way he looked at you made your knees weak. Not because he looked impressed. Because he looked sincere. Like he genuinely meant every word.
Jake lifted one hand slowly toward your face. You stopped breathing entirely. His fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, careful and warm beneath the lace edge of your mask.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen tonight,” he said quietly.
Nobody had ever looked at you like this before, like you were something precious, something worth being gentle with.
Jake’s gaze dropped briefly toward the lace mask covering half your face. Then back to your eyes.
And softly, he asks—“Can I take it off?”
You froze, and Jake’s hand lingered carefully near your cheek.
Panic seeped into your chest, because this was it. The second the mask came off, everything would change.
A newfound fear gnawed into you, that Jake would realize who you actually were. And suddenly, this entirely beautiful moment would become very complicated.
Your mouth parted slightly as you searched desperately for something to say. But suddenly—your cellphone began beeping wildly inside your clutch. Both of you jumped, startled.
You blinked quickly before pulling away from Jake just enough to grab your phone. The screen lit up immediately.
11:30 PM.
Your heart sank. Holy shit, you thought.
You had forgotten about the plan. You had to be back at the diner before midnight, before Jiwon saw that you weren't. Your breathing immediately turned uneven as panic rushed through your body all at once.
Jake noticed instantly. “What happened?”
You looked up at him, horrified. “I have to go.”
Jake blinked in confusion. “What?”
“I have to leave.” You stepped backward quickly, already clutching the front of your dress anxiously.
You shook your head desperately. “I just—I don’t have anymore time to—“ you paused, taking a shaky breath. “I’m really sorry, Jake, but I can’t stay here any longer.”
Confusion flashed across his face. “But I don't even know your real name—”
“I’m sorry,” you repeated breathlessly. Your heartbeat pounded violently now. You had maybe thirty minutes to get back to the diner before Jiwon realized anything was wrong.
Jake stepped toward you again, grasping onto your wrist carefully. “Will I see you again?”
The question nearly broke your heart. Because you didn’t have an answer to that. You don't know what will happen after tonight.
“I…” You swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”
Jake’s expression fell slightly. Staying here became dangerously tempting. But you couldn’t, you physically couldn’t.
So before you could change your mind—you pulled away from him as turned and ran.
“Wait!” Jake called immediately.
You gathered the front of your dress in both hands and rushed toward the ballroom doors as fast as possible.
Behind you, you could hear Jake following. “Stargirl!”
Your heart pounded wildly. The second you burst back inside the ballroom, noise swallowed you whole again. Music blasted through the speakers while students crowded the dance floor beneath flashing lights.
You shoved your way through the crowd desperately. “Sorry—sorry—excuse me—” Your dress snagged against someone’s costume briefly before you yanked it free.
Then suddenly—you collided directly into somebody.
Cold liquid splashed everywhere.
“What the hell?!”
Your stomach dropped.
Hyeji.
Red punch soaked across the front of her costume while she stared at you in absolute disbelief.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”
“Are you insane?” Hyeji snapped immediately.
You backed away quickly. “I didn’t mean to—”
“You clumsy bitch!”
Before you could answer, Jake suddenly pushed through the crowd behind you. “Wait!”
He accidentally bumped into Hyeji’s shoulder trying to reach you. Hyeji’s eyes widened immediately. “Jake?”
She grabbed onto his arm quickly. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight?!”
Jake looked frustrated now, eyes still searching desperately for you through the crowd. “Hyeji, not now.”
“Who even is she?” Hyeji demanded angrily.
Jake pulled his arm away immediately. “I said not now.”
The sharpness in his voice startled even you. But you didn’t stay long enough to watch the argument.
Because across the ballroom—you spotted Sunoo near the drinks table.
You rushed toward him immediately. “Sunoo!”
He turned, eyes widening instantly at your expression. “What happened?”
“We need to go, now.”
Sunoo quickly realized, panic forming on his face. “Shit, is it almost midnight?”
“Yes.”
Sunoo didn’t even question it. He grabbed your hand to let you drag him through the crowd toward the ballroom exit. The cold night air hit your skin hard once you burst outside again. Your breathing felt uneven while panic still clawed violently through your chest.
Sunoo looked at you carefully while the two of you hurried toward the parking lot. “Y/N,” he said cautiously. “What happened?”
You shook your head quickly. “I’ll explain later.”
The parking lot lights reflected against your dress while your heels clicked frantically against the pavement. Behind you, the ballroom doors burst open again. It was Jake.
Your heart nearly stopped.
“Stargirl!”
You immediately turned toward Sunoo and shoved your car keys into his hands. “Drive, Sunoo!”
Sunoo stared down at the car keys you shoved into his hands like he’d just been drafted into war. “What the fuck did you do?” he whisper-yelled while fumbling to unlock the car.
“I’ll explain later!”
“You always say that before something horrible happens.”
Behind you, Jake’s voice echoed again through the parking lot. “Wait, please!”
Your pulse skyrocketed instantly. “Please just hurry the hell up!”
“I’m trying!” Sunoo nearly tripped over the edge of his prince cape while yanking the driver-side door open. The second both of you climbed inside, he jammed the key into the ignition aggressively.
The engine roared to life. You twisted around immediately in your seat. Jake had just reached the parking lot. And even from this far away, you could see the confusion written all over his face, and the hurt too.
Your chest twisted painfully. For a second, the two of you just looked at each other through the windshield.
Jake stood there breathing hard from chasing after you, dark hair messy beneath the parking lot lights while students spilled out of the ballroom behind him. His eyes searched desperately through the car windows, trying to see you properly before you disappeared again.
And of course—you hated yourself for leaving him like this.
Sunoo abruptly slammed his foot onto the gas. The car jerked forward hard enough to send you back against the seat.
“Oh my god,” you gasped.
“We are in escape mode right now,” Sunoo said firmly. “Seatbelts later.”
The ballroom disappeared behind you quickly as Sunoo sped out of the parking lot. For a few seconds, neither of you spoke.
Your breathing still hadn’t stabilized. Your hands shook violently in your lap while your mind replayed everything over and over again, with Jake’s face when he asked if he’d see you again.
The way he said you were beautiful like he genuinely meant it.
And worst of all—he still didn’t know it was you.
“Okay,” Sunoo said finally while gripping the steering wheel tightly. “can you explain why Jake was chasing after us?”
You leaned your head back against the seat dramatically. “He’s soccerlvrr1115.”
Sunoo nearly swerved. “WHAT?—”
“The penpal,” you whispered frantically. “It’s Jake.”
Sunoo looked at you in complete disbelief. “Jake Sim?!”
“Yes!”
“The Jake Sim?”
“How many Jake Sims do you know?!”
Sunoo stared at the road ahead silently for two whole seconds. Then suddenly screamed. “OH MY GOD!”
“Sunoo!”
“Oh my god,” he continued dramatically. “This is actually insane. The popular soccer captain was secretly your mysterious online boyfriend this whole time?!”
“He is not my boyfriend.”
“He literally chased after your car.”
You buried your burning face in your hands. “This is actually horrible.”
“No,” Sunoo corrected immediately. “This shit is getting interesting.”
You groaned miserably. “You don’t understand.”
“No, no, I understand perfectly,” Sunoo said. “This is like, the best thing that has ever happened to you.”
Your stomach twisted. Despite everything, part of you wanted to smile remembering tonight. You danced with Jake. The memory made your chest ache.
Suddenly, Sunoo goes completely silent. Snapping out of your thoughts, you frowned slightly before lifting your head. “What?”
Sunoo’s grip tightened around the steering wheel. “Don’t panic.”
Your stomach dropped instantly. “What?”
“Don’t. Panic.”
Fear crawled violently up your spine. Slowly, Sunoo nodded toward the intersection ahead. Your eyes followed automatically.
Immediately—your blood ran cold.
Jiwon’s car. Right beside yours.
Worse, the two cars were at the stoplight. You physically stopped breathing. The glowing red stoplight reflected against the windshield while Jiwon’s car sat only a few feet away in the next lane.
You could see her clearly through the window. One hand rested against the steering wheel while the other held her cellphone near her face, completely unaware. Or maybe not unaware.
What if she looked over? What if she saw the dress? What if she realized you weren’t at the diner?
Your mind spiraled with the mere thoughts of it. “She’s gonna kill me.”
Sunoo kept his eyes locked firmly on the road ahead. “Don’t look at her.”
You could barely breathe. “What if she already saw us?”
“She didn’t.”
“What if she turns?”
“She won’t.”
Your hands shook harder now. “She’s literally right there.”
“Y/N.” Sunoo’s voice dropped lower now. Firmer. “Do not fucking look at her.”
You pressed yourself lower into the seat immediately, heart hammering violently against your ribs.
The white dress suddenly felt enormous, too noticeable. Your lace mask still sat against your face while the edge of your skirt spilled across the car seat dramatically, impossible to hide completely.
You wanted to throw up.
Your mind raced through every possible outcome at once.
Everything crashing down all because you wanted one stupid night for yourself. Sunoo glanced toward you briefly before immediately softening when he saw how terrified you looked. “Hey.”
You swallowed hard.
“She’s not gonna see you.”
Your eyes stayed fixed downward. “But what if she does?”
“She won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if she noticed this car already, she would’ve gotten out and dragged you through the intersection herself.”
A horrified laugh escaped you accidentally.
Sunoo nodded proudly. “Just pretend that bitch is beneath you, don't even spare her a look.”
Your breathing still felt uneven. The red stoplight suddenly felt eternal.
Outside, cars rolled slowly through nearby intersections while music from passing vehicles drifted faintly through the night air. Somewhere farther down the road, people laughed outside restaurants completely unaware that your entire life currently felt two seconds away from destruction.
You squeezed your eyes shut briefly.
Please don’t look over. Please.
Then suddenly—a ringtone sounded loudly from Jiwon’s car.
You flinched violently, and Sunoo muttered under his breath. Jiwon picked up her cellphone immediately, visibly annoyed about something. You could see her talking now through the side window.
And thankfully—she still wasn’t looking your way.
Sunoo exhaled slowly. “Good. She’s distracted.”
Your heartbeat refused to calm down. You kept imagining her head suddenly turning. Imagining her eyes widening, and the immediate realization.
Then finally, the stoplight turned green.
Sunoo hit the gas instantly as the car lurched forward so fast you nearly slammed into the dashboard.
“Holy shit—!”
“Free at last!” Sunoo declared dramatically.
Jiwon’s car disappeared farther behind you as Sunoo sped through the intersection.
Only then did you finally breathe properly again. Your entire body sagged against the seat in relief. “Oh my god,” you whispered shakily. “I think I just lost ten years off my life.”
Sunoo nodded. “I'm with you on that.”
You both sat there silently for a moment while adrenaline slowly wore off.
Then you feel your cell phone buzzing against your lap.
It was Jake.
Sunoo immediately noticed your expression. “…Is it him?”
Slowly, you looked down at the glowing screen. There were multiple messages left by him.
soccerlvrr1115:
wtf was that ??
soccerlvrr1115:
why did u have to leave so fast
soccerlvrr1115:
can u pls just tell me ill see you again
Your chest ached with guilt so badly it almost hurt to breathe. Because despite the panic, despite whatever the hell had just happened with Jiwon, despite everything—
Part of you already knew tonight had changed everything forever.
synopsis: senior year isn’t magical for y/n—stuck between school, diner shifts, and her stepsisters’ teasing, she feels invisible to everyone except the anonymous boy she messages every night. at school, jake is the popular golden boy hiding behind expectations, only truly himself with the girl who signs off at 11:59. when they agree to meet at the winter formal, one perfect dance feels like fate—until y/n disappears before midnight, leaving jake searching for the girl who’s been right in front of him all along.
genre: romcom, fluff, angst
back to masterlist | next part
inspired by ‘a cinderella story’ (we cheered)
no plagiarizing pls | hate = blocked
reblog 4 a kiss ! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎
contains: based in the 2000s, mild suggestive scenes (kissing, making out, skinship), cursing, adult jokes, jake is a YEARNER, reader has a bitchy stepmom + snarky stepsisters, sunoo as readers bff, basically all of enha mentioned (duh), mutual pining, angst, reader IS DOWNBAD for jake, highschool setting, mentions of character death, RAIN CONFESSIONS, happy ending !!
pt. 1 wc: 9.4k
now playing: kiss me - sixpence none the richer, transform - daniel caesar (ft. charlotte day wilson), she will be loved - maroon 5, hear you me - jimmy eat world, dance with me - bruno mars, raindance - dave (ft. tems), letter home - childish gambino, come back - the five stairsteps, every breath you take - the police, cinderella - mac miller (ft. ty dolla $ign), any yearner song tbh
𐬽 . ♡︎
You used to think your life was perfect.
Back then, it was just you and your dad.
He was a widower long before you were old enough to understand what that meant.
All you knew was that he wore his wedding ring on a chain around his neck and that he smiled at you like you were the only good thing left in the world.
He owned a diner—not fancy, not trendy, just warm.
The kind of place where the booths were cracked red leather and the bell above the door rang too loudly.
Business was booming. People loved him. They loved you too, mostly because you were always perched on a stool behind the counter, swinging your legs while he flipped pancakes like it was an Olympic sport.
He was your best friend.
Though you were never introduced to what younger girls liked then, you were still thriving and happy with what your dad could give.
He'd look at you like you hung the stars.
He’d wink at you and say, “One day, this place will be yours.”
And you believed him.
On your 8th birthday, everyone celebrated at your dad's diner, and you had a big cake in front of you.
"What's your wish, sugar?" Your dad asked as he lit the candles for your cake.
You didn't know what to wish for.
You were happy with everything that was in your life thus far.
But, the universe thought you could use one more person in your life.
So, Jiwon stepped into the picture.
She wore perfume that smelled expensive and smiled like she was practicing for something. At first, you thought she was nice. She brought you macarons and called you “sweetheart” in a voice that felt rehearsed.
But she didn’t like you.
She never did.
You noticed the way her jaw tightened when your dad laughed too hard at something you said. The way her hand lingered on his arm when customers complimented you instead of her.
She married him within months.
And with her came Haneul and Hera—identical twins with matching lip gloss and matching superiority complexes. They looked at you like you were gum stuck to the bottom of their designer sneakers.
Still—you tried.
You told yourself your dad deserved to be happy.
You told yourself you could handle it.
Until… the night of the fire.
The diner had burned faster than anyone expected. Electrical issue, they said. An accident.
Your dad ushered everyone out quickly, as firefighters fought to cool down the fire.
You were terrified—the diner your dad has always dreamed of building—was crumpling to the ground in front of you.
Your dad kneeled down to your small figure, and gave you a comforting hug.
"It's gonna be okay, sugar." He assures, "We'll fix this."
Then, a shriek came from inside the burning building.
"AGHHHH! Help me!" The voice screamed.
You knew that voice from anywhere—it was Jiwon.
Your dad snapped his head towards the shrill of her voice, and looked back at you with frightened eyes. "I have to go help her."
You cling to your dad, fisting his shirt. "No! Don't go, appa.."
He sighed, tucking a hair behind your ear. "Don't worry, I promise you I'll come back."
He hugged you again, one last time—
Then your dad went back inside, for her.
He saved Jiwon. She came out, terrified; Covered in ash and soot, clutching onto firefighters.
But he didn’t make it out.
You were grieving—you'd lost the only person who truly cared about you. You’d discovered that your father never actually wrote a will, so after that, the diner legally became Jiwon's.
And to her misfortune, so did you.
You don’t remember when exactly it shifted—when “helping out” became obligation.
Jiwon had stopped pretending. You became the one opening the diner at dawn. The one closing at midnight.
The one scrubbing grease from floors while Haneul and Hera got to enjoy their youth.
“You should be grateful,” Jiwon would say. “that I’m letting you stay here.”
Letting you stay. In your own damn house.
You balanced school and twelve-hour shifts like a circus act. Homework done behind the register. Studying during slow hours. Falling asleep with textbooks stuck to your cheek.
But you had a plan—Columbia University.
It was your dad's dream that you'd get in there.
You whispered that school like a spell. Like if you said it enough, it would pull you out of this house and into a life that belonged to you.
So, you made a promise to yourself—you would endure.
You would push through.
You would leave.
𐬽 . ♡︎
Riiing, riiing!
“Y/N!”
The voice slices through your dream.
You jolt upright, disoriented. Your cheek peels off a stack of wrinkled papers. You’re still at your desk. The old digital clock beside your bed glows 6:42 a.m. in green numbers.
Your neck aches. There’s an imprint of graph lines faintly pressed into your skin.
“Y/N!” Jiwon’s voice crackles through the house intercom system—a relic from the ‘90s she refuses to remove because she likes summoning people without moving.
“Get your ass up and make me my breakfast!”
You groan, rubbing your eyes.
Your bedroom still feels like the only space untouched by her. Posters of early 2000s pop stars taped slightly crooked.
A stack of standardized test prep books threatening to topple over. A corkboard with ‘Columbia University’ printed in bold at the center.
You stand slowly, joints stiff.
Downstairs, the house smells like cut grass and expensive perfume.
You move on autopilot.
Chop romaine. Toss it in a chilled bowl. Add shaved parmesan. Drizzle dressing in careful spirals. Caesar salad—because Jiwon insists carbs before noon are “uncivilized.”
You plate it precisely; Just how she liked it.
Outside, the morning sun is already harsh.
Jiwon sits beneath a large patio umbrella, oversized sunglasses covering half her face. She’s wearing a crisp white outfit that somehow never wrinkles.
In front of her, Haneul and Hera stand on the tennis court Jiwon had installed last year “for networking purposes.”
Their instructor, a patient man in his mid-thirties, feeds them balls with diminishing enthusiasm.
“Just return it gently,” he says.
Haneul swings—then misses entirely.
The ball bounces twice and rolls past her.
Hera snickers. “Maybe try using your eyes this time.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Haneul snaps, tossing another ball up dramatically.
She swings again. This time she connects. Unfortunately, the ball rockets directly into Hera’s face.
Thwack.
Hera freezes for half a second before shrieking. “Oh my God—? You hit me!”
“You moved!”
“I was standing still!”
The instructor closes his eyes like he’s reconsidering his life choices.
You bite your lip to keep from laughing.
Jiwon doesn’t look up until you clear your throat and hold out the bowl. “Finally,” she says coolly. “What the hell took so long?”
“Sorry,” you murmur.
She takes a delicate bite. “…At least you made it right.”
You nod faintly, clutching your backpack strap.
Her gaze shifts downward.
“And where,” she asks slowly, lowering her sunglasses just enough to peer at you, “do you think you’re going?”
“School..?” you reply carefully. “I have a math quiz first period.”
She lets out a short, humorless laugh.
“You should be at the diner. If you expect to afford college, you’ll need those paychecks.”
“I can go after school,” you try. “I just need to—”
“What is the point of going to school,” she interrupts sharply, “if you already have a job?”
The twins have stopped arguing and are now watching.
Heat creeps up your neck. “I need grades to get into university..”
“Uh—no, you need money,” Jiwon corrects.
Silence stretches thin.
Finally, you lower your gaze. “…I’ll go to the diner first.”
“Good,” she says, satisfied.
You turn toward the house—and immediately get blasted in the face by the automatic sprinkler system.
Cold water soaks through your hoodie in seconds. You gasp, stumbling forward as the rhythmic spray continues its merciless rotation.
Behind you, Haneul bursts into laughter.
You sprint toward the sprinkler system, trying to turn it off.
Then, Jiwon intervenes. “Y/N, no! Leave those sprinklers on, our grass looks too brown.”
“The grass is greener than green,” you reason. “HOA already told us we should conserve our water!”
“God, just leave it the hell on!” Jiwon snaps.
Giving up, you rush across the yard, dodging the next spray barely in time. Water drips from your hair into your eyes.
You shove the back door open and slip inside, slamming it shut behind you.
Silence.
You lean against the wood, breathing heavily.
Your clothes cling to you. Your backpack is damp. Your morning is already ruined.
You close your eyes.
'Just one more year of this,' you thought to yourself.
Then you'd be gone.
You’d disappear far from this life your father had left you with.
You straighten up, grab your keys from the hook, and head out the front door toward the diner that was supposed to be yours.
And you decide—no matter how long it takes—one day, it will be.
𐬽 . ♡︎
The morning air still held that early chill when you pulled into the gravel lot behind the diner. The sky was a dull gray-blue, the kind that meant the sun hadn’t fully decided to wake up yet. The neon OPEN sign in the front window buzzed faintly, flickering in a way that made the place look older than it already was.
Your dad’s diner.
The place you practically grew up in.
And lately, the place you couldn’t escape.
You barely let the engine die before you were grabbing your apron from the passenger seat. The fabric was wrinkled from being crumpled into a ball, smelling faintly like fryer oil and syrup no matter how many times you washed it.
You shoved the apron over your head while stepping out of the car, the cold air brushing your cheeks as you hurried toward the back door.
The back door creaked when you pushed it open, the familiar smell of coffee, grease, and maple syrup immediately filling your nose. The diner was already awake. Plates clinked. Someone laughed loudly from one of the booths. The low hum of an old jukebox played something soft and scratchy from the corner.
“Morning.”
You looked up to see Soobin leaning against the counter, a rag slung lazily over his shoulder.
His hair was still messy, like he’d rushed out of bed just as fast as you had.
He looked at you with that half-knowing smile he always had whenever you showed up way earlier than any normal high school student should be working.
“You look like you ran here,” he added.
You sighed, tying the apron strings around your waist. “Feels like it.”
He tilted his head slightly, studying you.
“Let me guess,” he said, dragging the rag across the counter in slow circles. “Jiwon forced you to come in today?”
You didn’t even try to hide the tired sigh that escaped your chest. “Yeah.”
Soobin clicked his tongue softly. “Figures.”
You shrugged like it didn’t bother you, even though the tight feeling in your chest said otherwise.
“She said the morning shift needed help,” you muttered. “Apparently the diner will collapse if I’m not here.”
Soobin snorted quietly.
“ ‘m pretty sure the diner survived a lot of stuff before you were old enough to reach the counter.”
You huffed out a small laugh, though it barely held any real amusement.
From the dining area, a customer waved their hand impatiently.
“Coffee!” they called.
Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Duty calls.”
You nodded and slipped past him, heading toward the EMPLOYEES ONLY door behind the kitchen.
The hallway back there was narrow, with faded linoleum floors and a flickering fluorescent light overhead. Lockers lined one side of the wall, dented and scratched from years of use. You had one too, even though half the time you didn’t bother putting anything in it.
You leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing out slowly.
School starts in an hour.
Yet, you were here—again.
It was funny, really.
How you were able to manage excessive amounts of work shifts while balancing your education on top of it.
You were smart, infuriatingly smart.
And maybe that's why Jiwon refused to let you reach your academic potential.
Then, a beeping sound from your cellphone pulled you from your thoughts.
You pulled your phone out.
The small screen glowed softly in the dim morning light.
1 New Message.
But it wasn’t a normal text notification.
It was from the messaging site you used with your pen pal.
Your thumb tapped the notification.
The chat opened immediately.
At the top of the screen was the username you’d come to recognize over the past few months.
soccerlverr1115.
You didn’t know his real name.
You didn’t know where exactly he lived.
But what you did know was that he went to your school.
You also knew small things he’d mentioned in passing—like how he liked soccer, how he stayed up way too late, and how he somehow always managed to text at the exact moments you needed a distraction.
A new message appeared.
soccerlverr1115:
hey
are u awake or is this way too early
You leaned against the side of one of the lockers, a small smile tugging at your lips as you typed back.
stargirl_0327:
im awake
unfortunately :P
The typing dots popped up almost immediately.
soccerlverr1115:
unfortunately ?
You glanced toward your untouched roller skates.
stargirl_0327:
ya
got work before school
A pause.
Then—
soccerlverr1115:
damn
that sounds terrible
You huffed quietly, leaning your head back against the locker.
stargirl_0327:
u have no idea
A few seconds passed before another message appeared.
soccerlverr1115:
do u at least get free pancakes
You stared at the screen for a second before typing.
stargirl_0327:
only when no one's looking lol
soccerlverr1115:
id say it's worth it then ;)
im definitely gonna be late again today
You snorted quietly.
stargirl_0327:
im always late
soccerlverr1115:
yeah ive noticed
You blinked.
Your fingers paused over the keyboard.
stargirl_0327:
noticed?
The typing dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
soccerlverr1115:
i mean like u always say ur late a lot
You smirked slightly.
Sure.
stargirl_0327:
right
Another message popped up.
soccerlverr1115:
what class do u have first today ?
stargirl_0327:
calculus
A few seconds passed.
soccerlverr1115:
lol good luck surviving that
You laughed quietly under your breath.
stargirl_0327:
i need more luck surviving my shift first TT
Your phone buzzed again.
soccerlverr1115:
try not to fall asleep in class stargirl
You rolled your eyes fondly.
stargirl_0327:
no promises
There was a pause.
Then one last message appeared.
soccerlverr1115:
see u at school :)
Your fingers hovered over the keypad for a second.
You still didn’t know what he looked like.
Or where he sat at lunch.
Or what classes he actually had.
But the idea that he could be somewhere in the same building as you every day made something in your chest feel weirdly warm.
You typed back.
stargirl_0327:
see you at school soccer boy
You slipped your phone back in your bag, and pulled out the pair of white roller skates sitting inside your locker.
They were part of the uniform. Jiwon's idea. It made the diner seem "fun."
You sat on the small bench and swapped your sneakers for the skates, tightening the laces quickly. The wheels clacked softly when they touched the floor.
You rolled your shoulders once.
Then stood.
When you pushed through the door back into the diner, the noise swallowed you immediately.
The diner looked exactly like it always did. Red vinyl booths. Chrome-edged tables. The long counter lined with spinning stools. The windows fogged faintly from the warmth inside.
It almost felt comforting.
Almost.
You grabbed a small notepad from the counter and skated toward the first table.
“Morning,” you said softly.
The couple sitting there smiled politely.
“Can we get two coffees and the pancake special?” the woman asked.
“Mhm, ‘f course.”
Your pen scribbled quickly across the page.
You dropped the order in the kitchen window before gliding toward another booth.
Coffee refills, wiping tables, taking orders.
The wheels of your skates rolled smoothly across the floor as you moved around the diner like you’d done a thousand times before.
Because you had.
Time blurred together the way it always did during morning rush.
Plates stacked.
Orders shouted.
The coffee machine hissed loudly.
You wiped down another table, pushing damp strands of hair away from your face.
A glance at the wall clock made your stomach twist.
School started soon.
You should already be on your way.
But instead—
“Why are you here?”
The voice made you look up.
Giselle stood near the counter with her hands on her hips.
She looked half-annoyed, half-concerned, her dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Unlike most people in the diner, she didn’t look half asleep.
She looked like she’d already figured out exactly what was going on.
Your heart sank slightly.
“Working?” you said weakly.
Giselle’s eyes narrowed.
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
You looked down at the rag in your hands, wiping the same clean spot on the table again.
“School starts soon for you,” she added.
“I know.”
“Then why,” she continued slowly, “are you still in the diner?”
You hesitated.
Because the answer wasn’t complicated.
“Jiwon said I had to come in,” you muttered.
Giselle scoffed immediately. “Of course she did. Y/N, your dad wouldn’t want you skipping school for that bimbo.”
You opened your mouth to argue but didn’t have anything strong enough to say.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
Giselle crossed her arms, watching you carefully.
“You’re going to be late.”
You forced a small shrug.
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.”
Her voice softened slightly, though the seriousness stayed.
“You’ve already missed too many mornings.”
You looked away toward the kitchen window where cooks were shouting orders back and forth.
“I’ll catch up.”
“That’s not the point, Y/N.”
You didn’t respond.
The rag in your hand twisted between your fingers.
The words hung between you.
You hated how right she sounded.
Your eyes drifted back to the clock. Thirty-five minutes.
Maybe you could still make it if you left now.
But the thought of Jiwon’s reaction made your chest tighten.
“I can’t just leave,” you said quietly.
Giselle’s eyebrows raised. “Why not?”
“Because Jiwon will lose her shit.”
The words came out more honest than you intended.
For a moment, Giselle just stared at you.
Then she shook her head.
“She doesn’t get to decide whether you go to school.”
“She kinda does,” you muttered.
“No,” Her voice was firm now. “She doesn’t.”
You didn’t argue again.
Because arguing meant admitting things you didn’t want to say out loud.
Giselle stepped closer, lowering her voice slightly.
“Listen to me.”
You finally looked up.
“You are not staying here all morning because Jiwon thinks you’re free labor.”
Your grip on the rag tightened. “It’s not like that.”
“Yes it is.”
You didn’t respond. Giselle sighed again, softer this time.
She reached out and flicked your forehead lightly. “You’re seventeen,” she said. “Your biggest problem right now should be math homework! Not diner shifts.”
A small laugh escaped you despite yourself. “I hate math.”
“I know.”
She smirked. “But at least it’s better than dealing with Jiwon.”
You couldn’t even argue with that.
Giselle nodded toward the door. “Go.”
You blinked. “…What?”
“Go to school.”
“I can’t just—”
“Yes, you can.”
You glanced around the diner nervously. “What if Jiwon finds out?”
Giselle rolled her eyes. “Tch, I’ll handle her! She doesn't have anything on me.”
“You don’t know how she gets, Giselle.”
“I know exactly how she gets.” She leaned against the counter casually. “And I still don’t care.”
Your heart beat a little faster. “You’ll get in trouble.”
Giselle shrugged. “She can't afford to fire me anyway.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
She grinned.“It should be.”
You hesitated. Your mind ran through every possible outcome, Jiwon yelling, calling you useless.
But Giselle’s voice cut through the noise. “You shouldn’t skip school,” she said softly.
Her expression wasn’t joking anymore. “Least of all for her.”
The words landed heavily.
Because she wasn’t just talking about today.
She meant every morning like this.
Every time you showed up when you should’ve been somewhere else.
Your chest felt tight.
“You deserve better than this,” Giselle added quietly.
You swallowed.
The diner noise hummed around you again.
The clock ticked. Thirty minutes now.
Giselle nudged your shoulder lightly.
“Go grab your bag.”
You hesitated one more second.
Then slowly—
You nodded.
“Okay.”
Her grin returned instantly. “Good.”
You started rolling toward the back hallway again.
“And hurry!” she called after you. “School waits for no one.”
You laughed softly under your breath.
For the first time that morning, the tight knot in your chest loosened a little.
𐬽 . ♡︎
The morning had brightened a little by the time you pulled onto Sunoo’s street.
Rows of nearly identical suburban houses stretched along the block, their lawns still damp from the early sprinklers. The sky had shifted from pale gray to a soft blue, sunlight finally starting to spill over rooftops.
Your car hummed quietly as you slowed in front of the Kim family house, tires crunching lightly over the curbside gravel.
Right on cue, you spotted Mr. Kim in the driveway.
He stood beside a shiny black car, carefully wiping the hood with a microfiber cloth like it was some kind of priceless artifact. The car practically reflected the entire neighborhood in its polished surface.
You leaned slightly out of the open window.
“Morning, Mr. Kim!”
He looked up immediately, his face breaking into a warm smile when he saw you.
“Well, good morning, Y/N.”
He straightened up, tossing the cloth over his shoulder as he walked a little closer to the curb.
“Sunoo will be out in a minute,” he said. “I was just about to call him.”
You nodded.
“Take your time. We’re only a little late.”
Mr. Kim laughed under his breath.
“Just a little?”
You gave him a guilty smile.
“Okay, maybe more than a little.”
He turned toward the house and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“SUNOO!”
His voice echoed across the quiet street.
“YOUR RIDE IS HERE!”
You leaned back against the driver’s seat, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel while you waited.
A few seconds passed.
Then the front door swung open dramatically.
And there he was.
Sunoo.
He stepped outside like he had absolutely nowhere urgent to be, one hand adjusting his jacket while the other ran through his hair. His expression was relaxed—far too relaxed for someone who was about to be late for school.
You scoffed quietly to yourself. “Unbelievable.”
Sunoo walked down the driveway with a lazy sort of confidence, like the entire morning existed purely for his convenience.
You couldn’t help chuckling under your breath.
“Look at him,” you muttered.
When he reached the driveway, Sunoo flashed you a bright smile.
“Hey, Y/Nniee!”
But before you could answer, he turned dramatically toward his dad.
“Seriously, though,” he said. “Why do I still have to get picked up by her?”
He gestured toward your car with one hand before adding quickly—
“No offense.”
You gasped in mock offense. “Wow.”
Mr. Kim crossed his arms, unimpressed.
Sunoo tilted his head at him. “Do you even feel remotely bad?”
His dad didn’t even hesitate.
“I feel bad,” Mr. Kim said calmly, “for the four cars I’ve bought you that you managed to total.”
You burst into laughter.
Sunoo groaned loudly. “That was a one time thing!”
“Four,” his dad corrected.
“Okay, but—”
You leaned over and honked the horn.
The sound cut him off mid-sentence.
“Sunoo!” you called. “Hurry up and get your ass in here!”
He turned back toward you slowly, rolling his eyes like you were the most dramatic person alive.
“Relax,” he muttered.
But he waved goodbye to his dad anyway. “Bye, Dad.”
Mr. Kim gave you a small wave.
“Drive safe, Y/N.”
“Always do, sir,” you replied with a smile.
Sunoo finally walked over and opened the passenger door, dropping into the seat with an exaggerated sigh.
The door shut with a solid thud.
“Someone’s impatient this morning,” he said.
“You walk like you’ve got all the time in the world,” you shot back, pulling away from the curb.
Sunoo leaned back in the seat, glancing sideways at you.
He only needed one look.
Just one quick glance at your face.
The faint shadows under your eyes.
The slight slump in your shoulders.
The way your grip tightened around the steering wheel for a second.
Sunoo sighed softly. “Did Jiwon make you work today?”
You nodded once, letting out a tired breath. “Yeah.”
He leaned his head back against the seat. “I knew it.”
The car rolled smoothly down the quiet neighborhood street as you turned toward the main road.
For a few moments, neither of you spoke.
Sunoo stared out the window, watching the houses blur past.
His jaw tightened slightly.
“You can’t keep doing that,” he said finally.
You raised an eyebrow.
“Doing what?”
“Letting her push you around.” He firmly told you.
You gave a small shrug. “It’s not that big of a deal, Sun.”
Sunoo turned toward you immediately. “Yes, it is.”
His tone wasn’t angry—just worried.
“You’re working before school, after school, sometimes weekends too,” he continued. “That’s not normal at all.”
You kept your eyes on the road. “I’m fine.”
“You’re definitely exhausted.”
“I’ve been more tired.”
“That’s not very comforting,”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “You sound like Giselle.”
“Good,” Sunoo said. “Somebody has to.”
You slowed at a stoplight, tapping your fingers lightly against the steering wheel.
Sunoo watched you carefully. “You should do something about Jiwon.”
You glanced at him briefly. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Refuse to go in. Something.”
You shook your head.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
The light turned green.
You pressed the gas again.
“Because,” you said quietly, “she’s the only reason I can attend Columbia.”
Sunoo blinked. “What?”
You shrugged slightly.
“Jiwon told me her friend works in admissions connections. She promised she’d help me get in if I kept working at the diner.”
Sunoo stared at you like you’d just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah.”
He let out an incredulous laugh. “So you’re letting her boss you around because of a maybe?”
“It’s not a maybe.”
“Y/N—”
“She already helped me with recommendations,” you insisted.
Sunoo ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s still not fair to you.”
You glanced at him again, softer this time. “My life isn’t that miserable, Sunoo.”
He frowned slightly. “I didn’t say it was.”
“I know,” you said. “But you look like you think it is.”
The car turned into the road leading toward the school.
Students were already walking toward the building in small groups, backpacks slung over their shoulders.
Sunoo sighed. “I just worry about you.”
You smiled faintly. “I know.”
“And you hate when I do.”
“Not hate.”
“Strongly dislike.”
You laughed quietly. “Something like that.”
He studied your face again. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
You nodded. “Yeah, of course."
He didn’t look entirely convinced. But he let it go—for now.
The school parking lot came into view ahead of you.
Sunoo leaned back in his seat.
“Still,” he muttered.
“What?” You glanced at him.
“If Jiwon ever pushes you too far…” He paused. “…you’re telling me.”
You smirked slightly. “What are you gonna do?”
He shrugged casually. “Commit a minor crime.”
You burst into laughter. “Sunoo!”
“I’m serious!”
“Please don’t commit crimes for me.”
“No promises.”
You shook your head, still smiling as you pulled into the parking lot.
Despite everything—
Mornings felt a little easier with him around.
𐬽 . ♡︎
You and Sunoo practically run through the school gates.
The morning bell hasn’t rung yet, but it’s close enough that the hallways are already packed with students shoving books into lockers and rushing to their first classes. Your car ride had cut it dangerously close, and the two of you had bolted across the parking lot the second you arrived.
Sunoo jogs beside you, still catching his breath.
“Why,” he pants dramatically, “do mornings like these exist?”
You snort. “You’re the one who took ten years to walk to the car.”
“That was confidence,” he argues. “I know how to walk with a purpose.”
“You walk like you’re in a fashion show.”
Sunoo scoffs loudly. “Please. If I were in a fashion show, people would actually appreciate it.”
You laugh as the two of you turn down the hallway where your lockers are. Students crowd the corridor, voices overlapping into a loud buzz of conversation.
Sunoo groans beside you. “I seriously cannot deal with biology first period today.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong with biology?”
“Everything,” he says immediately. “The frogs, the diagrams, the fact that my teacher enjoys suffering.”
You chuckle, pushing past a group of freshmen. “At least you don’t have calculus first thing in the morning.”
Sunoo gasps dramatically. “Oh my god, you’re right.”
He puts a hand over his heart. “I take back my complaints.”
“You should.”
“Thoughts and prayers go out to you.”
You roll your eyes, smiling faintly as you walk.
But before you reach your lockers—
“Hey!”
A voice cuts through the hallway noise.
You already know what’s coming.
A group of boys strolls past you and Sunoo, their backpacks slung lazily over their shoulders. One of them grins when he notices you.
“Well, if it isn’t the diner girl.”
Your shoulders tense slightly.
Another boy nudges his friend.
“Yo, when are we getting that burger discount?”
“Yeah,” the first one adds. “You work there, right?”
Sunoo’s entire expression changes instantly.
His friendly morning mood disappears.
He steps slightly in front of you, glaring at them.
“Why don’t you back your fatasses up,” Sunoo snaps, “and take your business somewhere else?”
The boys blink.
One of them scoffs. “Relax, dude. It’s a joke.”
“Oh, well then it wasn’t funny. Get better jokes,” Sunoo shoots back.
They mutter something under their breath but keep walking down the hallway, clearly deciding it’s not worth the argument.
Sunoo rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t fall out. “God, they’re so fucking annoying.”
You shrug lightly. “I’m used to it.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“They weren’t being that bad.”
Sunoo stops walking for a second and looks at you like you’ve just said something ridiculous.
“Y/N.”
You glance at him. “Yes?”
“It’s ridiculous that the only reason people talk to you is to tease you about where you work.”
You smile faintly.
“They’re not the only ones who talk to me.”
He sighs.
“You know what I mean.”
You do.
But you still shrug again. “It’s fine, really.”
Sunoo doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go as the two of you finally reach your lockers.
You spin the dial and pull the door open with a metallic clang.
Sunoo leans against the locker beside yours while you start digging through your bag.
“Alright,” he mutters. “Mentally preparing myself for frog dissection.”
You laugh quietly as you reach for your math book.
But when you look up—
You freeze.
Across the hallway, standing by the lockers opposite yours—
Jake.
Your school's soccer captain.
Your school's golden boy.
He’s leaning against a locker while talking to Heeseung, one of his closest friends. His soccer jacket hangs loosely over his shoulders, and his hair still looks slightly messy, like he didn’t bother fixing it this morning.
Heeseung is saying something animatedly, but Jake doesn’t look very interested.
In fact—
He looks… tired.
Or bored.
Or maybe both.
Like he doesn’t really want to be standing there.
Next to him is Hyeji.
His on-and-off girlfriend.
She’s clinging to his arm like it belongs to her, laughing loudly at something her friends are saying.
Her friends, Mina and Yeseo, stand beside her, whispering and giggling.
Sunoo follows your line of sight and groans quietly. “Ugh.”
You blink, pulling your math book from your locker.
“What?”
Sunoo crosses his arms. “Hyeji.”
He glares across the hallway.
“She’s the worst.”
You glance at him. “I thought you didn’t have a class with her.”
“She’s in my biology class.”
Sunoo’s tone is full of disgust. “And her and her little minions just love terrorizing people.”
You nod absentmindedly.
But you’re barely listening.
Because your eyes keep drifting back to Jake.
Heeseung is still talking.
Jake nods occasionally, but he doesn’t look engaged.
Hyeji laughs again, tightening her grip on his arm.
You notice the way Jake glances down the hallway like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Like he’s searching for an exit.
For a split second—
His eyes almost look tired.
Then suddenly—
Yeseo notices you.
And you don't realize.
Her gaze sharpens slightly.
She leans closer to Hyeji and whispers something into her ear.
Hyeji’s head turns immediately, and her eyes land on you.
Your stomach drops.
“Oh,” Hyeji says loudly. “Look who’s staring.”
The hallway noise seems to quiet around you.
Your body stiffens.
Hyeji smirks. “Are you stalking my boyfriend or something?”
Your eyes widen slightly. “I wasn’t—”
“Mind your own business next time,” Hyeji cuts in sharply.
You suddenly become painfully aware of how many people have stopped to watch.
Students glance over.
Whispers ripple through the hallway.
Your face heats up.
And then—you notice Jake.
He’s staring at you now.
His expression isn’t annoyed. It’s… shocked.
Almost like he didn’t expect this.
And worse—he looks like he feels bad.
Your voice comes out quieter than you want. “I wasn’t staring.”
A few people nearby laugh.
Mina snickers. “Sure you weren’t.”
Hyeji tilts her head mockingly. “Don’t you have pancakes to serve or something?”
Your stomach twists.
Before you can say anything—
Sunoo steps forward.
“Hyeji,” he says coldly. “You don’t need to be a bitch about it.”
The hallway goes silent.
Hyeji stares at him like she can’t believe what she just heard.
Sunoo crosses his arms. “And the only person who should be minding her business is you.”
Hyeji’s jaw tightens.
She glares at both of you.
Then she grabs Jake’s arm and yanks it slightly. “Come on.”
“Let’s go.” She gestures to Mina and Yeseo.
The three girls walk down the hallway, dragging Jake with them.
He glances back for half a second.
Then he’s gone.
Sunoo scoffs loudly.
“Unbelievable.” He shakes his head.
“Those girls are the last people who should be picking on anyone.”
You stare down at the math book in your hands.
Trying to ignore the way your heart is still racing.
And the way Jake looked at you before he walked away.
𐬽 . ♡︎
The bell rings the second you step out of calculus.
It’s loud and jarring, cutting straight through the quiet concentration of the classroom and spilling you back into reality. The hallway outside is already crowded—students pouring out of rooms, voices overlapping, lockers slamming shut, footsteps echoing against the tile floors.
You adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder, exhaling slowly.
Your head still feels heavy from numbers and formulas, your brain lagging behind like it’s still stuck halfway through the last problem you didn’t understand.
“Survived?”
The voice pulls you out of it.
You look up.
Sunoo is leaning against the row of lockers across from your classroom, like he’s been there for a while. One foot is propped casually against the metal, and he’s holding something bright orange in his hand, folded in half.
He looks way too put together for someone who claimed he was going to suffer through biology an hour ago.
You walk over, raising an eyebrow.
“Barely,” you admit, letting out a tired breath. “I think I just failed at least three different concepts at once.”
Sunoo winces sympathetically. “Yeah… that sounds about right for calculus.”
He pushes himself off the lockers and straightens up, holding out the folded paper toward you. “Here.”
You take it, glancing down at it.
“What is this?”
“Just look.”
You unfold it slowly.
The paper crinkles softly between your fingers, and your eyes scan the bold, decorated lettering across the top.
HALLOWEEN HOMECOMING FORMAL
THIS SATURDAY NIGHT
The design is over-the-top in that very high school way—fake spiderwebs printed in the corners, glittery font, a cartoonish black cat arched across the bottom. Someone clearly put a lot of effort into making it look festive.
You stare at it for a second. “…Oh.”
Sunoo watches your face carefully, like he’s trying to read your reaction before you even say anything.
“So,” he says, dragging the word out. “We’re going, right?”
You glance up at him, then back down at the date.
This Saturday.
Your stomach tightens slightly.
You already know what that probably means.
A late shift. Maybe closing. Jiwon hovering nearby, making sure you don’t leave early.
You fold the paper again, handing it back to him with a small shrug.
“I don’t know Sun,” you say quietly. “Jiwon might make me work that night.”
He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh and rolls his eyes, pushing himself off the lockers again. “Jiwon can suck it up and find someone else.”
You let out a small breath. “You know it’s not that easy—”
“Yes, it is,” he cuts in. “There are literally, what, ten other people working there?”
“Eight,” you mumble.
“Exactly,” he says quickly. “Eight other people. The diner will survive if you’re gone for one night.”
You glance down at the floor for a second. “I just… don’t really do things like that.”
“Like what?”
“Big events,” you say. “Dances. Formals. Whatever this is.”
Sunoo looks at you for a long second.
Then his expression softens.
Not dramatically—just enough that you notice.
“Y/N,” he says.
You already know where this is going.
“No.”
“Y/N,” he repeats, this time more drawn out, almost pleading.
“Sunoo—”
“This is our last year,” he cuts in.
You pause.
The hallway noise continues around you, but his words settle heavier than everything else.
“Our last year of high school,” he adds, quieter now. “And you’ve spent most of it working, or hiding.”
You don’t respond right away.
Because he’s not wrong.
Sunoo nudges your arm gently.
“I just…” he hesitates for a second, then continues, “I want to see you have fun. Like actually have fun. Not just survive another day.”
Your chest tightens a little.
You look at him.
He’s not joking this time.
Not being dramatic.
Just… honest.
He clears his throat slightly, shifting back into a lighter tone.
“We could go together,” he adds quickly. “As friends.”
You blink. “Together?”
“Yeah,” he says. “You and me. Completely normal. Totally not weird.”
You narrow your eyes at him slightly. “…Right.”
He nods. “Exactly.”
You study him for a moment.
Then a small, knowing smile starts to form.
“You just want me to go with you because you ran for homecoming king and you don’t have anyone to go with.”
Sunoo pauses.
Then, without hesitation—
“Yeah, I guess that too.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “At least you’re honest.”
“I try.”
Before you can say anything else, he suddenly grabs your arm, shaking it lightly.
“Please, Y/N,” he says, his voice slipping back into full dramatics. “I’m begging you.”
You try to pull your arm back, but he just holds on tighter.
“Sunoo—”
“Please.”
“Sunoo.”
“Pleaseeeee!!”
You laugh under your breath, shaking your head. “God, you’re so annoying.”
“And yet,” he says proudly, “I’m still your favorite person.”
You roll your eyes.
He leans in slightly, lowering his voice like he’s about to say something important.
“You might even see your online friend there.”
Your smile falters, just a little.
You glance at him. “Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying,” he shrugs. “You go to the same school. Big event. It’s not impossible.”
You shake your head. “You watch too many romance movies.”
“And you don’t watch enough.”
You hesitate.
Just for a second.
Then you sigh softly. “…I’ll try to go.”
Sunoo freezes.
Then his entire face lights up. “Wait—seriously?”
“I said I’ll try,” you repeat.
“That’s basically a yes.”
“It’s not—”
“It is to me.”
You shake your head, but there’s a small smile still lingering on your lips.
And then—your phone beeps.
The sound is small, almost lost in the noise of the hallway.
But you recognize it instantly.
And funny enough, so does Sunoo.
He raises an eyebrow slowly. “…Was that him just now?”
You try to keep your expression neutral. “Was what him?”
“Your online friend,” he says. “The one you literally never stop texting.”
You sigh, but you can’t stop the slight smile that slips through as you reach into your pocket. “Maybe.”
You pull your phone out and glance down at the screen.
soccerlverr1115:
did u survive first period
Something about it—
So simple, so casual—
It still makes your chest feel a little lighter.
“Yeah,” you admit quietly.
Sunoo groans. “You’re smiling at your phone again. This is so cheesy, I can’t deal with this.”
You ignore him, your thumbs already moving across the keypad.
The bell rings again, signaling the next period.
Students start moving faster now, brushing past you as they rush to class.
Sunoo sighs, stepping back.
“Alright,” he mutters. “Time for me to go suffer.”
You glance up.
“Bye Sunoo,”
“Have fun with 'soccer lover'.”
He starts walking backward down the hallway, pointing at you.
“And don’t forget—you’re coming to the formal.”
“I said I’ll try!”
“That literally means yes!”
You shake your head as he disappears into the crowd.
Then you look back down at your phone.
Your fingers hover for a second before typing.
stargirl_0327:
yep, barely survived
You hit send and start walking toward your next class, slipping your phone back into your pocket.
But the small smile stays.
And for once—
The day doesn’t feel quite as heavy.
𐬽 . ♡︎
Jake hated working at the car wash after school.
It wasn’t the kind of hatred that made him miserable or dramatic about it. He wasn’t waking up every morning dreading his life or anything. He’d just spent so many years there that the place had started to feel like an extension of himself, and not in a good way.
Everything about it followed him around constantly. The smell of soap and wet pavement stuck to his hoodies no matter how many times they were washed. His hands were always dry from chemicals and hot water. Even at school, he sometimes caught himself smelling tire shine on his sleeves during class.
And the worst part was how his dad talked about the place.
Every single time Jake complained, even jokingly, his dad would clap him on the shoulder and say the exact same thing.
“Well son, one day this place is gonna be yours.”
But honestly, the idea made him feel trapped more than anything else.
Jake didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life yet, but he knew it definitely wasn’t this. He couldn’t imagine himself spending the rest of his life standing in a parking lot holding a clipboard while customers complained about water spots on their windows.
Still, arguing with his dad about it never got him anywhere.
So instead, Jake showed up after school every day and did the job.
The car wash was packed that afternoon. Cars wrapped around the lot in a long line, engines rumbling while employees hurried between lanes with towels thrown over their shoulders. Water sprayed continuously in the background, and the pavement reflected the late afternoon sunlight so brightly that Jake had to squint every few seconds.
Some old song played faintly from the garage radio while one of the younger workers struggled to vacuum out the backseat of a minivan.
Jake had barely finished helping with an SUV when his dad’s voice suddenly echoed across the lot.
“JAKE!”
Jake looked over immediately. “Yeah?”
“Take lane three!”
Jake let out a quiet sigh and grabbed the clipboard sitting nearby before making his way across the lot.
The second he reached lane three, he recognized the car. It was old, slightly dented near the bumper, and looked like it had survived years entirely out of stubbornness.
Jake blinked once. Was that...?
The driver-side door opened, and there you were.
Jake froze for half a second.
He recognized you immediately from school earlier that day. The image of you standing awkwardly by your locker while Hyeji embarrassed you in front of everyone had been replaying in his head for hours, no matter how much he tried to focus on something else.
And now you were here, at his car wash.
Jake suddenly became very aware of himself.
You stepped out of the car, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before looking over at him. The sunlight caught the side of your face softly, and Jake hated how quickly he noticed little things about you.
The way your hair moved in the breeze.
The tired look in your eyes, and the fact that you somehow looked prettier outside of school than you did in it.
Not intimidating pretty, not polished or perfect in the way girls like Hyeji looked. You looked real. Like the kind of person people naturally felt comfortable around.
Jake realized he’d been staring when you greeted him.
“Hey.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts immediately.
Jake straightened up so quickly it was kind of embarrassing. “Oh— uh, hi.”
Real smooth, Jake.
You gave him a polite smile, though it looked a little cautious around the edges. Jake couldn’t blame you for that. As far as you knew, he was just the guy who stood there silently like an idiot while his girlfriend berated you in front of everyone.
The guilt hit him all over again.
He cleared his throat quickly and looked down at the clipboard in his hands. “So,” he said, trying to sound normal, “what seems to be the issue?”
You leaned lightly against the side of your car. “Uh, the engine's making this weird sound,” you explained. “And my brakes squeak sometimes.”
Jake nodded. “Okay. Got it.”
He crouched near the hood and started checking the car over while trying very hard not to seem awkward.
But it was pretty difficult. Because every time he looked up, you were standing there quietly watching him, and for some reason that made him nervous.
Jake opened the hood and inspected the engine carefully.
The car did need work.
Not terrible work, though.
Just enough to show it had been pushed a little too hard for a little too long.
Jake straightened up again after a moment and flipped through the checklist attached to his clipboard.
“You also need a wax...” he said absentmindedly while writing notes down.
Silence. Then, Jake looked up.
You were staring at him with your eyebrows furrowed. “…Excuse me?”
Realizing what he'd said, Jake’s stomach dropped instantly.
His eyes widened. “Oh—no,” he said quickly, nearly dropping the clipboard. “I meant the car. The car needs a wax.”
You blinked at him for a second before sighing dramatically. “Oh.”
Jake wanted the ground to open up beneath him.
You crossed your arms loosely. “Okay fine,” you shrugged. “Whatever.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly while trying not to die from embarrassment.
Why would he phrase it like that?
He quickly finished writing down the services your car needed before tearing the paper off the clipboard and handing it to you.
“If you take this to the front desk inside,” he explained, “they’ll handle everything from there.”
You took the paper from him carefully. “Thanks.”
Your answer was polite, but short.
Jake couldn’t tell if you disliked him or if you were just naturally guarded around people.
Before he could think too much about it, loud honking suddenly echoed through the lot.
Not angry honking, melodic honking. Like somebody was intentionally trying to play a tune with their car horn.
Jake closed his eyes immediately, he already knew.
Two filthy cars pulled into the lot at the same time, covered in enough dirt and mud to look like they’d driven through a swamp.
Jake stared blankly as both car doors flew open.
“HIIII JAKE!”
“JAKEYYYYY!”
Haneul and Hera practically sprinted toward him.
“Jake, look!” Haneul said proudly while pointing toward her disgusting car. “It’s dirty!”
“We need a car wash,” Hera added dramatically. “Pleeeeaaassseeee?”
The two girls started bouncing excitedly in front of him like children asking for candy.
Jake blinked once. “…Did you guys drive through a natural disaster?”
Haneul gasped.
"Jake," Hera said laughing, “That is soo rude.”
Then both girls noticed you standing nearby.
Watching them silently, and judging them very openly.
Haneul narrowed her eyes immediately. “Don’t you have someplace else to be, y/n?”
Hera laughed beside her. “Yeah,” she added. “Our mom is looking for you.”
You looked completely unimpressed as you stepped away from your car, still holding the paper slip Jake gave you. “Gotta get the car waxed,” you said flatly.
Meanwhile, you glanced between the girls and their cars. “Who did you two hire to make your cars that dirty?”
Jake let out a laugh before he could stop himself.
Haneul put a hand dramatically over her chest. “What are you,” she asked, “the car police?”
Hera laughed loudly before trying to add onto the joke. “Yeah, because if she is then… uh…”
She paused awkwardly. “You’re under arrest?”
Silence. Nobody laughed. Jake had been looking around in awkwardness.
Hera looked around uncertainly while Haneul slowly turned toward her. “You just ruined the joke.”
“I got nervous!”
Jake shook his head, laughing quietly to himself.
"Why does Jiwon need me?" You say, breaking the silence.
Haneul simply glared at you.
"Something about the diner," Hera responds and points out, "don't just stand there! Get going."
You roll your eyes in finality, and walk towards the car wash reception.
Then Haneul suddenly turned back toward him with exaggerated doe eyes. “So,” she said sweetly, “Jakey.”
Jake already knew he was about to regret whatever came next.
“Give us a car wash?”
She blinked at him dramatically while Hera copied her expression beside her.
Jake scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Uh… yeah,” he said with a laugh. “Sure. One moment, ladies.”
Haneul and Hera immediately squealed like he’d just agreed to buy them a mansion instead of spray soap onto their cars.
“I knew he loved us,” Hera whispered dramatically.
“Of course he does,” Haneul replied while flipping her hair. “We’re delightful. He loves me more, though.”
“You guys are exhausting,” Jake muttered.
Neither of them heard him.
They were already arguing over which car looked dirtier while walking toward the waiting area together.
Jake looked over at your disappearing figure, and shook his head quietly, still smiling a little despite himself.
𐬽 . ♡︎
By the time Friday rolled around, you were exhausted.
Not the normal kind of tired either.
Not the kind sleep could fix.
It was the sort of exhaustion that sat heavy in your chest and followed you around all day, making everything feel slower. The week had dragged painfully, each morning blending into the next between school, the diner, homework, and Jiwon constantly breathing down your neck.
Even walking home from school felt harder than usual.
Your backpack hung heavily from one shoulder as you stepped through the side gate leading into the backyard. The late afternoon sun was still warm, casting long shadows across the patio furniture and overgrown grass.
You were already thinking about finally lying down for a little while when—
“Y/N.”
Your body stiffened slightly.
Jiwon’s voice came from the backyard patio.
You looked over immediately.
Jiwon was stretched out lazily across one of the lounge chairs near the pool, sunglasses perched on top of her head while a magazine rested against her lap. She looked completely relaxed, like she hadn’t spent the entire week ordering everyone around the diner.
She didn’t even look up right away when she spoke again.
“Come here for a second.”
You adjusted your bag higher onto your shoulder and walked over slowly.
The closer you got, the more your stomach tightened.
Because Jiwon only used that calm voice when she wanted something.
You stopped near the edge of the patio.
“Yeah?”
Jiwon finally glanced up at you over the rim of her sunglasses.
“Can you work a night shift tomorrow?”
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow was Saturday.
Your stomach dropped immediately.
Saturday was the formal, the Halloween homecoming formal.
The one Sunoo had spent the entire week begging you to go to.
For a second, you just stood there quietly. Because normally, this part was easy. Normally you just said yes.
It was always yes.
You’d never really rejected Jiwon before. Not seriously, not when it came to work.
But this time—you took a slow breath.
“I can’t.”
The words felt strange coming out of your mouth.
Jiwon blinked once, then slowly sat up straighter in the lounge chair.
The movement was calm, too calm.
“And why,” she asked smoothly, “can’t you work tomorrow?”
You shifted awkwardly where you stood. Your shoe nudged at a loose pebble near the patio while you avoided looking directly at her.
“I… wanted to go to the Halloween formal.”
The second the words left your mouth, Jiwon scoffed, like actually scoffed. “Seriously?”
You looked up slightly. “Jiwon—”
“Formals are stupid,” she interrupted immediately. “You don’t need to go to those things.”
You swallowed slightly. “But I’ve never been to one before.”
Jiwon rolled her eyes. “And?”
You hesitated. “Sunoo wanted me to go with him.”
For a second, Jiwon just stared at you, then she laughed.
Not loud, and not kindly either.
It was the sort of laugh that made your stomach twist.
“Oh my god,” she muttered, shaking her head slightly. “You’re actually serious.”
Your grip tightened slightly around your backpack strap.
“The diner’s already gonna be understaffed tomorrow night,” Jiwon continued. “I need you there.”
“There are other workers—”
“And no offense,” she cut in smoothly, “but nobody wants someone like you at those dances anyway.”
The words hit harder than you expected.
Jiwon leaned back against the chair again, like this conversation bored her already.
“You really think people at school aren’t gonna make fun of you?” she asked. “Please.”
Your chest tightened.
You looked down at the ground again.
Because part of you hated how quickly her words got inside your head.
You swallowed hard. “I just wanted to—”
“Y/N,” Jiwon interrupted again, sharper this time.
You went quiet immediately.
Jiwon stared at you for a long moment before speaking again. “Do you still want to go to Columbia University?”
Your stomach twisted. Slowly, you nodded. Of course you did. That dream was the only thing keeping you going half the time.
Jiwon tilted her head slightly. “Well then you need to keep working if you wanna pay that tuition,” she said flatly. “Because I’m sure as hell not paying for it.”
You opened your mouth slightly, then closed it again.
Because what were you even supposed to say to that?
Jiwon sighed dramatically, already sounding irritated with the conversation.
“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re acting difficult all of a sudden.”
You stared down at the pebbles near your shoes. “I’m not trying to be difficult.”
“Then stop arguing.”
Silence settled between you, heavy and uncomfortable. The wind moved softly through the backyard trees while somewhere in the neighborhood, a dog barked faintly.
Finally, Jiwon waved a dismissive hand toward the house. “Whatever. Just get out of my face.”
You stayed still for half a second longer.
Then—
“And you’re not going to the formal,” Jiwon added firmly. “Period.”
That was it. Final.
Your shoulders sagged slightly.
Not because you were surprised, just because you were tired.
So tired. You nodded faintly even though it hurt to do it, then turned away from the patio without another word.
Jiwon had already leaned back into her chair again by the time you walked off, like the conversation was over the second she decided it was.
You walked quietly across the backyard, your backpack feeling heavier with every step.
By the time you reached the back door, your chest felt tight in that familiar way again.
Like you couldn’t breathe properly inside this house sometimes.
You climbed the stairs slowly once you got inside, exhaustion settling deeper into your bones with every creak of the steps beneath your feet.
And when you finally reached your room—
You shut the door softly behind you and just stood there for a moment, trying very hard not to cry over a stupid high school dance.
synopsis : living next door to lee heeseung has always been a nightmare loud, cocky, and impossible to ignore until one reckless night at a party leaves you waking up in his bed and running before it can mean anything you try to forget it ever happened, until two lines change everything, and suddenly the one person you can’t stand is the one you can’t escape.
pairing : basketball captain heeseung x neighbourf!reader
trope : accidental pregnancy + forced proximity
word count : 19.6k
warnings : heeseung is a an absolute asshole, accidental pregnancy, alot panic and guilt, abortion / termination discussion, fear of the future, alcohol use, one night stand, dirty talking, cursing, foreplay, dry humping, oral, drunk sex ( consent is present ) , unprotected sex, mild degradation, hair pulling, creampie
🗯️ JO’s NOTES < 🐻❄️ 3 ! : omggg finallyy juno part one is out, hope you have an absolute amazing time when reading. navi did the proofreading for me ilysmm <3333
The bass from the apartment next door was so loud it made your pencil roll off the desk for the third time tonight thump thump thump. Each beat vibrated through the thin wall like it was personally trying to ruin your life.
You stared at the half finished notes in front of you, frustration bubbling hot in your chest. Midterms were in two weeks. Two weeks and Lee Heeseung, the campus golden boy, basketball captain, and your personal nightmare of a neighbor was throwing another one of his legendary parties like tomorrow didn’t exist.
This was the nth time. The nth damn time since you’d moved in six months ago. With a sharp exhale, you shoved your chair back and stormed out of your apartment, not even bothering to change out of your oversized hoodie and sweatpants. The hallway reeked of spilled beer and expensive cologne.
You could already hear the chaos before you even reached his door. Laughter, glasses clinking, some girl’s high pitched giggle cutting through the music.
You banged on the door harder than necessary. It took a few seconds before someone inside yelled over the noise, “Yoo Heeseung! Someone’s banging at your front door!”The door finally swung open.
Heeseung stood there in all his infuriating glory tall, broad shouldered, black hair slightly tousled like he’d been running his hands through it. His button up was half undone, revealing a silver chain that rested on his collarbones and a glimpse of toned chest. Behind him, the party pulsed with red solo cups, dim lights, and at least half the basketball team.
A pretty girl with long hair and a tight dress was pressed close to his side, her hand resting possessively on his arm. He’d clearly been in the middle of charming her into his bed by the end of the night.
The second his dark eyes landed on you, that signature cocky smirk curved his lips.“Hi, miss morals,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, like he’d been waiting for this exact interruption.
You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Can you turn it down? The music is too loud.”
Heeseung didn’t move. Instead, he leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his arms in a way that made his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt. The girl behind him shifted, clearly annoyed at the sudden attention shift, but Heeseung didn’t spare her a glance now.
“Miss morals strikes again,” he laughed, the sound rich and mocking. It sent an unwelcome spark of irritation down your spine. “What’s the problem this time, neighbor? Come to bless us with your righteous presence?”
“I’m serious, Heeseung,” you said, voice sharp as you folded your arms tightly across your chest. “Not everyone has the pleasure of partying all night. Others have to actually study to pass their exams whereas others can just have daddy pay for everything when they fuck up.”The words hung in the air between you.
Heeseung’s smirk faltered instantly. His jaw tightened, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. For a split second, something raw annoyance, maybe even hurt flashed across his face before he quickly shoved it back into that indifferent mask. His eyes darkened, the playful glint gone.
“Whatever,” he muttered, voice suddenly flat and cold. “I’ll lower the volume.”He said, “Thank you,” you replied curtly, refusing to let the small victory show on your face even though your heart was hammering.
Heeseung didn’t say anything else. He simply stepped back and shut the door right in your face with a firm click that echoed down the empty hallway.
You stood there for a moment, staring at the closed wooden door, fists clenched at your sides. The music inside dropped almost immediately, not completely off, but low enough that you could finally breathe. Muffled laughter and voices still filtered through, but at least your walls wouldn’t shake anymore.
“Asshole,” you whispered under your breath, turning on your heel and heading back to your apartment.As you closed your own door behind you, you leaned against it for a second, eyes closed. Why did he always have to make everything so difficult? Why did one look from him always manage to crawl under your skin like this?
You shook your head, forcing the thoughts away. Back to studying. Back to pretending Lee Heeseung didn’t exist. But deep down, you already knew tonight’s silence between you two had just gotten a little louder.
You were halfway through rewriting your notes when your phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up with a new message.
yunjin : you know sunghoon righttt? he’s throwing a massive party after midterms and he personally invited me. pleeease come with me?? i don’t wanna go alone 🥺
You stared at the text, already feeling the familiar dread settle in your stomach. Another party of course. You typed back quickly
you : No thanks im good have fun tho
The two dots appeared immediately.
yunjin : babe come onnnn
yunjin : it’s after midterms!! you deserve to relax
yunjin : sunghoon’s parties are actually fun i swear
yunjin : there’ll be good music, free drinks, and i heard the basketball team is coming too 👀
You groaned, rubbing your temples. The last thing you wanted was to be anywhere near the basketball team especially not after tonight’s lovely encounter with their captain.
you : exactly why I’m not going pass
yunjin : please please please i really like sunghoon and this could be my chance
yunjin : i’ll owe you big time i’ll even help you study for the next round of exams i’ll buy you that expensive matcha you like for a month!!
You leaned back in your chair, biting your lip. Yunjin was relentless when she wanted something. And honestly she had been there for you through every late night breakdown this semester. Saying no felt a little cruel the pleading texts kept coming
yunjin : i won’t leave your side the whole night ( she is lying )
yunjin : we can leave early if you hate it , pretty please with cherries on top?? 🥺🍒
You sighed deeply, already knowing you were about to lose this battle.
you : fine, ONE HOUR that’s it if it sucks, we’re out.
yunjin : YESSSSS!!! you’re the best i love you so much
yunjin : we can dress up together at my place okay , see you tomorrow <33
You tossed your phone onto the desk and dropped your head into your hands. Great, just what you needed. Another night surrounded by loud music, drunk athletes, and the very real possibility of running into the Lee Heeseung again.
You glanced at the wall that separated your apartment from his. The music was still playing faintly, but at least it was bearable now. Just one party, you could survive one party right?
The next morning, the art history lecture hall was already filling up with the usual mix of sleepy students and last minute crammers when you slipped into your regular seat in the middle row.
The faint scent of fresh coffee and old books lingered in the air. Yunjin dropped dramatically into the chair on your right, her long hair still slightly damp from her morning shower, eyes bright with far too much excitement for a 9 am class.
On your left, Soobin settled in quietly, tall frame folding gracefully into the seat. He placed his neatly organized notebook on the desk and pulled out a perfectly sharpened pencil, offering you a soft, reassuring smile.
Soobin was always like this calm, steady, the kind of friend who showed up without making a fuss. He was the complete opposite of the loud, chaotic energy that seemed to follow Heeseung everywhere.
Yunjin, however, was already completely distracted. She was leaning forward, chin resting on her hand, openly staring toward the front rows where Sunghoon sat chatting with a couple of friends. Her gaze was soft and dreamy, a tiny smile tugging at her lips every time he laughed at something.
You nudged her arm with your elbow, voice low and teasing. “You’re oogling him again it’s getting embarrassing at this point.”Yunjin didn’t even pretend to deny it. “I’m not oogling, im appreciating art,” she whispered back, still not tearing her eyes away. “Look at him he’s literally perfect.”
Soobin let out a quiet chuckle beside you, shaking his head as he flipped open his notebook. “Sure ‘appreciating’ that’s why half your notes from last week were just little hearts around his name.” He teased her, to which she replied,
“Traitor,” Yunjin hissed playfully, finally glancing at both of you as her cheeks flushed pink. “You two are supposed to be on my side.”The light banter continued until Soobin turned to you, lowering his voice a little. “Hey, I heard there was a party at Heeseung’s last night, did you survive the noise?”
You let out a long, dramatic groan and slumped back in your seat, the memory of last night’s confrontation still fresh and irritating. “Barely. That idiot had the music blasting so loud my textbooks were literally vibrating on the desk. I had to march over there in my hoodie and sweatpants like some angry neighbor from a sitcom again.”
Soobin listened attentively, his expression patient and sympathetic. He never interrupted your rants or told you to just ignore it. He just nodded along, dark eyes focused on you, making you feel genuinely heard.
It was one of the many reasons you treasured his friendship he was thoughtful, kind, and never loud or arrogant for the sake of it. The polar opposite of Heeseung.
“And of course he answered the door half dressed with some girl hanging off his arm like a trophy,” you continued, voice dripping with annoyance. “Called me ‘miss morals’ like it’s the funniest joke in the world.
Then when I pointed out that not everyone has a rich daddy to bail them out when they party instead of studying, he got all pissy, sucked in this dramatic breath, and slammed the door right in my face. He’s such an entitled asshole.”
Soobin hummed softly, a small frown creasing his brow. “That sounds exhausting, you should’ve texted me you know, i could’ve come over with snacks and we could’ve studied together instead of dealing with his nonsense alone.”
You smiled faintly at the offer, warmth cutting through the irritation. “Next time, maybe at least someone in this building has basic human decency.”
Yunjin finally tore her gaze away from Sunghoon long enough to grin at you. “Heeseung’s just bored and likes getting a rise out of you if you stopped reacting, he’d probably get bored and stop.”
“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You don’t have to live next door to the human equivalent of a walking migraine.”The professor walked in moments later, cutting off any further complaints.
The next hour passed in a blur of projected slides on Renaissance techniques, quiet note taking, and the occasional whispered comment from Yunjin whenever Sunghoon shifted in his seat.
When class finally ended, the three of you packed up your things and joined the stream of students flowing out into the crowded hallway. The air was filled with chatter about upcoming midterms, weekend plans, and the usual campus gossip.
As you walked side by side, Yunjin suddenly looped her arm through yours, her excitement bubbling over again. “So, about Sunghoon’s party after midterms you’re definitely coming, right? And Soobin you should come too! It’ll be so much more fun with all three of us there.”
Soobin blinked, surprised, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Wait you’re actually going?” He looked at you, genuinely shocked. “I thought you hated parties, especially ones thrown by the popular crowd.”
You shrugged, already regretting your decision a little. “Yunjin begged a lot and guilt tripped me with matcha promises. One hour max, if it sucks, I’m dragging her out.”
Yunjin squealed happily and squeezed your arm. “See? She’s coming! So you have to come too, Soobinn please?”Before Soobin could respond, a familiar voice cut through the hallway noise from behind you.
“Can’t imagine miss morals at a party but I’m looking forward to seeing you there.” Your stomach dropped, you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.
Heeseung was leaning casually against a set of lockers a few feet away, arms crossed over his varsity jacket, that signature cocky smirk playing on his lips. He must have overheard the entire conversation.
His dark eyes locked onto yours with clear amusement, like he lived for these moments of catching you off guard.
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a verbal response. Heat crept up your neck partly from annoyance, partly from the embarrassment of him hearing your plans.
Yunjin stifled a laugh beside you while Soobin just shook his head quietly, a small, amused smile tugging at his mouth.
Heeseung’s low chuckle followed you as the three of you kept walking, but you kept your gaze fixed straight ahead, jaw tight. God, you really, really hated that guy.Midterms week stretched into a brutal two week marathon, and as an art curator major, you felt every single hour of it in your bones.
Your apartment had become a war zone of curated chaos towering stacks of books on museum exhibition design, printed slides from Art Conservation and Curatorial Practices, mood boards pinned to the wall for your upcoming gallery proposal project, and color coded flashcards scattered across every surface.
Late nights blurred into early mornings as you hunched over your laptop, drafting proposals for hypothetical exhibits while trying to memorize the intricate history of 19th century European collections. Sleep was a distant dream. Caffeine was your only reliable companion.
And then there was Heeseung.
He didn’t blast music or bring girls over every single night that would have been almost predictable. No, he was crueler than that. He chose random days, like he knew exactly how to keep you off balance, turning your already exhausting study schedule into a minefield of unwanted interruptions.
The first time hit on the second night of midterms. You were deep into analyzing a case study on museum ethics when the wall behind your desk started to vibrate faintly. At first it was just low music.
Then came the giggles two distinct female voices, breathy and flirtatious. Heeseung’s deep laugh cut through it all, followed by the unmistakable sound of bodies moving against furniture.
“Fuck, Heeseung you’re so good at this,” one of the girls moaned loudly, the words carrying crystal clear through the thin shared wall. The headboard started thumping a slow, steady rhythm against your wall rhythmic, insistent, growing faster.
You could hear the wet slap of skin, her exaggerated gasps turning into full throated cries every time he thrust.You yanked your noise canceling headphones on so hard the band dug into your temples, cranking the volume until classical music drowned most of it out.
But you could still feel it, the steady bang bang bang vibrating through your desk, through your chair, through your skull. Your cheeks burned with secondhand embarrassment and pure rage.
'Of course he’s fucking some random girl while I’m trying to memorize the difference between Baroque and Rococo curation techniques.' You thought bitterly, stabbing your highlighter across the page. Must be nice to have zero responsibilities except basketball and dick appointments.
It stopped around 2 a.m., but the damage was done. You only managed three hours of sleep before your 8 a.m. lecture.
The next morning, you were running on pure spite and too much coffee when you caught Heeseung in the hallway just as he was stepping out of his apartment. He looked annoyingly fresh — hair still damp from a shower, varsity jacket slung over one shoulder, that perpetual cocky smirk already in place.
You stopped right in front of him, arms crossed tightly. “Keep it down next time,” you said flatly, voice low but sharp. “Some of us are actually trying to pass our midterms instead of auditioning for porn.”
Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Aw, miss morals heard everything? Didn’t know you were such a light sleeper.” You glared at him, heat rising to your cheeks. “Just tone it down, the headboard banging is ridiculous.”
He chuckled lowly, the sound sending another spike of irritation through you. “Noted.” Then he leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “Though from the sounds of it last night, she seemed to enjoy the banging.”
You rolled your eyes and walked away without another word, his soft laugh following you down the hall.The next disruption came four days later. A random Thursday when you had a massive group project due on modern curatorial strategies.
You’d just settled in with your laptop open to a half finished exhibition proposal when his door slammed open down the hall. One girl this time, but she was even louder.
The moment they got inside, the sounds started again her high pitched whimpers, Heeseung’s low, cocky murmurs “Yeah? You like that? Tell me how much you want it” followed by the unmistakable wet sounds of them going at it on what sounded like his couch first, then migrating to the bed.
The headboard slammed against the wall so hard your framed print of Van Gogh’s Starry Night rattled. Her moans turned into broken sobs of pleasure, each one punctuated by Heeseung’s grunts and the filthy slap of bodies. “Harder fuck, right there, Heeseung don’t stop—”
You ended up studying in your bed instead, laptop balanced on your knees, pillows stacked around you like a fortress. Headphones on full blast. Still, every thrust made the wall tremble.
Every moan crawled under your skin and made focusing on your notes feel impossible. By the time they finally finished (or at least quieted down) around midnight, your eyes were burning and your proposal was only half done.
You hated how your body reacted sometimes not with attraction, but with pure, simmering resentment that made your stomach twist.That same night, after the noises finally stopped, you grabbed your phone in a fit of exhausted anger and texted him.
you : keep the noise down, some people are trying to study for actual grades, not coast on basketball talent and daddy’s money
His reply came faster than you expected. A picture popped up first. A close up selfie of Heeseung lying in bed, shirtless, messy hair, lazy smirk on his face, with the caption
heeseung : sorry, miss morals hard to stay quiet when they scream my name like that
heeseung : next time i’ll try to fuck quieter or maybe you can just join and tell me how to do it right?
You stared at the message, face flaming with a mix of rage and disbelief. You immediately blocked the image from your mind ( and definitely did not linger on the way his abs looked in the dim lighting ) before typing back a single furious reply
you : delete my number, asshole
The worst random night came during the final stretch, just three days before your last exams.
You were pulling an all nighter on your capstone project a full digital mock up of a contemporary art exhibit you’d spent weeks perfecting when the noises started again around 11 p.m. This time it was two girls.
Their laughter spilled into the hallway first, then straight through your wall. Heeseung’s voice was low and teasing, the kind of filthy charm that probably worked on every girl on campus.
Soon the bed was creaking loudly, headboard banging in a frantic rhythm while both girls moaned in tandem one breathy and high, the other deeper and more desperate.
“Heeseung oh god, yes fuck me like that—” mixed with wet, obscene sounds that left zero doubt about exactly what was happening next door. The wall vibrated so intensely your coffee mug slid an inch across the desk.
You sat there in your oversized hoodie and sweatpants, staring at your glowing screen, jaw clenched so tight it ached. Every moan, every dirty encouragement from Heeseung, every rhythmic thud felt like a personal attack on the one thing you actually cared about your future.
Your grades, your dream of curating real exhibitions someday. While I’m over here trying not to fail out of the only thing I’m good at, you thought, fingers flying angrily across the keyboard, he’s over there living his best life with a rotating cast of girls screaming his name.
You wore the headphones until your ears rang. You even tried white noise apps, earplugs underneath nothing fully blocked it. The sex noises went on for nearly two hours that night, loud and shameless, until they finally quieted around 1:30 a.m.
By the end of the two weeks, you were running on fumes dark circles under your eyes, caffeine shakes in your hands, and a permanent knot of irritation lodged in your chest whenever you passed his door.
The random nights had been spaced out just enough to feel like psychological warfare instead of constant chaos.Heeseung never once toned it down. Never once seemed to care that someone on the other side of the wall was actually trying to build a future that didn’t involve daddy’s money or NBA scouts.
When Friday morning finally arrived and your last exam was over, you dragged yourself back to the apartment building, shoulders heavy with exhaustion. The hallway was quiet for once. Heeseung’s door looked innocently closed.
You unlocked your own door, stepped inside, and immediately collapsed face first onto your bed, still in your clothes midterms were done.But the resentment toward the boy next door had only grown sharper and Sunghoon’s party was tonight. You groaned into your pillow one hour in and out. Just don’t kill Heeseung on sight.
You took the quickest shower of your life, and changed into the first comfortable outfit you could find—a simple black crop top that showed just a sliver of your midriff and your favorite pair of dark jeans—comfortable, practical, safe.
You texted Yunjin that you were ready to head over to her place to “get ready together,” secretly hoping she wouldn’t make a big deal out of your clothes—big mistake. Yunjin’s apartment was only two blocks away, and the second you stepped inside, she took one look at you and gasped like you had personally offended her.
“No no absolutely not,” she declared, hands on her hips, eyes scanning you up and down with pure horror. “You cannot go to Sunghoon’s party looking like that.”
You glanced down at yourself, confused. “What’s wrong with this? It’s cute it’s comfortable.”“Cute? Comfortable?” Yunjin repeated, already dragging you toward her bedroom like a woman on a mission.
“Babe, we’re going to a party, not the library. You just survived two weeks of hell tonight you’re supposed to look hot, not like you’re about to give a museum tour.”
Before you could protest, she flung open her closet and started pulling out clothes with frightening speed. She held up a black mini skirt dangerously short, made of soft leather like material and a sheer black button up shirt that was practically see through.
“Try these,” she ordered, shoving the hanger into your hands. You stared at the outfit like it might bite you. “Yunjin, no way, that skirt is barely legal and the shirt is see through i’m not wearing that.”
“Yes way, you are,” she sang, already pushing you toward the bathroom. “You agreed to come to the party that means you’re under my styling jurisdiction for tonight go change now”
You argued the entire time you were changing. “This is ridiculous! im going to freeze, people are going to stare i look like I’m trying way too hard—”
But Yunjin was relentless. The second you stepped out in the mini skirt and sheer shirt ( with a black bralette underneath so you weren’t completely exposed ), she clapped her hands and squealed.
“Oh my god, yes! Look at you!” She spun you around in front of her full length mirror. The skirt hugged your hips and ended high on your thighs, making your legs look longer.
The sheer shirt draped softly over your shoulders, the black bralette visible underneath in a way that was teasing but not outright scandalous. “You look insane like, dangerously hot.”
You tugged at the hem of the skirt, cheeks burning. “I feel naked. Can't I at least wear the jeans over this or something?”“No,” she said firmly, already sitting you down in front of her vanity. “We’re doing makeup now sit still.”
For the next twenty minutes, Yunjin worked her magic. Winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass, soft smoky eyes, a touch of highlighter on your cheekbones, and a bold red lip that made your mouth look fuller. She even styled your hair into loose, effortless waves that framed your face perfectly.
When she finally stepped back, she let out a satisfied sigh.“Anyone would worship the ground you walk on looking like this,” she said, grinning proudly. “Trust me tonight, you’re not the stressed out art curator girl who yells at her neighbor. You’re the girl who turns heads even Heeseung won’t know what to do with himself when he sees you.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small flutter of nerves mixed with reluctant confidence settled in your stomach as you looked at your reflection. The outfit was way bolder than anything you’d normally wear, but you had to admit it looked good.
“Fine,” you muttered, smoothing down the skirt one last time. “But if I hate it, we’re leaving early and if Heeseung says one word about ‘miss morals’ in this outfit, I’m pouring a drink on him.”Yunjin laughed and linked her arm with yours. “Deal now let’s go make Sunghoon’s party unforgettable.”
You and Yunjin barely made it out of her apartment before your phone buzzed with a text from Soobin saying he was already waiting downstairs. The three of you had agreed he would drive so none of you had to worry about getting home later.
The elevator ride down felt too short. Your heart was already beating a little faster than usual partly from the unfamiliar outfit, partly from the knowledge that you were actually going to a party after surviving two brutal weeks of midterms.
The black mini skirt kept riding up slightly with every step, and you kept tugging nervously at the hem while Yunjin wouldn’t stop complimenting how good you looked.
When you stepped out of the building into the cool evening air, Soobin’s car was parked right in front, engine idling. He was leaning casually against the driver’s side, scrolling through his phone, but the moment he looked up and saw the two of you approaching, his eyes widened noticeably.
Especially when they landed on you. Soobin froze for a second, his usual calm expression cracking into pure, genuine shock. His gaze traveled slowly from your loose waves and sharp winged eyeliner, down to the sheer black shirt that subtly revealed the black bralette underneath, then to the dangerously short leather like mini skirt that made your legs look endless.
He blinked once, twice, before quickly clearing his throat and straightening up, ears turning a light shade of pink.“Wow” he said, voice a little higher than his normal soft tone. “You both look really nice like, really nice.”
Yunjin grinned triumphantly, looping her arm through yours and squeezing. “See? Told you! Even Soobin is shook, she looks hot, right?”
You felt heat creep up your neck and quickly crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly hyper aware of how different you looked from your usual oversized hoodie and jeans self.
“It’s all Yunjin’s doing. She basically held me hostage in her room until I changed. I tried to wear my normal clothes and she acted like I committed a crime.”
Soobin gave a small, shy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he opened the back door for both of you like the gentleman he was. “No, it really suits you, you look great tonight.” His compliment was sincere and gentle, making the awkwardness feel a little softer. “Ready to go? Sunghoon’s place isn’t too far from here.”
The car ride was filled with easy, light chatter that helped calm your nerves. Yunjin sat in the front passenger seat, already buzzing with excitement about seeing Sunghoon, while you sat in the back, occasionally tugging at your skirt and staring out the window at the passing streetlights.
Soobin kept the conversation flowing comfortably, light complaints about how brutal midterms had been, predictions about how wild the party might get, and Yunjin’s endless teasing about how
Sunghoon had “personally invited” her. Every now and then Soobin would glance at you through the rearview mirror, still looking a little flustered whenever your eyes met.
Before you knew it, Soobin was pulling up to a large off campus house that was already pulsing with loud music and flashing colored lights. Cars lined both sides of the street, and groups of people were laughing and chatting on the front lawn, red cups in hand.
The three of you climbed out of the car, and the heavy bass from inside immediately hit you like a wave. The night air smelled like a mix of cheap beer, sweet perfume, and fresh cut grass. Yunjin practically bounced on her heels with excitement as the three of you walked up the pathway toward the front door.
Sunghoon was standing right at the entrance, playing the perfect host in a simple black shirt and jeans. His sharp, handsome features broke into a warm, genuine smile the moment he spotted your group approaching.
“Hey! You guys actually made it,” he greeted cheerfully, voice carrying easily over the noise from inside. His eyes lingered on Yunjin for an extra beat, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “Yunjin, glad you came and you brought friends, nice.”
He gave Soobin a friendly nod and then turned his attention to you, eyebrows raising slightly in pleasant surprise as he took in your bold outfit. “Hey! you clean up really well. Welcome to the party, hope you guys have fun tonight.”
You managed a small, polite smile, still feeling slightly out of your element. “Thanks for inviting us.”Sunghoon handed each of you a red solo cup filled with something fruity and strong smelling a sweet cocktail that had a sharp kick of alcohol when you took your first cautious sip.
“Drinks are flowing inside help yourselves to whatever you want. There’s food in the kitchen, beer pong in the living room, and dancing. Pretty much everywhere enjoy!”
Yunjin thanked him brightly, her cheeks already a little flushed with excitement, and steered you and Soobin further into the crowded house. The interior was packed wall to wall with people.
Students were laughing loudly, dancing in the middle of the living room, playing intense games of beer pong, and making out in dimly lit corners. The music was loud but not yet overwhelming, colorful lights flashing across the walls and bodies.
For the first few minutes, the three of you stuck close together, weaving through the crowd while sipping your drinks. Soobin stayed protectively near your side, occasionally leaning down to say something quiet and reassuring whenever he noticed you looking a bit overwhelmed by the chaos.
Then you felt it. That familiar, annoying prickle on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. You turned your head slightly, and there he was.
Heeseung was leaning casually against the wall near the staircase, a red cup dangling from his fingers. He was surrounded by a small group of his closest friends—Beomgyu laughing at something on his phone, Jake with his usual bright smile, and Jay nursing his own drink while scanning the room.
Heeseung looked effortlessly good tonight in a black button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms, and dark jeans that sat low on his hips. His hair was styled in that signature messy but perfect way.
The moment his dark eyes found you across the crowded room, his conversation with the guys stopped mid sentence.
His gaze dragged slowly and shamelessly down your body, taking in the short black mini skirt that hugged your hips and thighs, the sheer shirt that teased the black bralette underneath, the way the outfit accentuated your curves before snapping back up to your face.
For once, his usual cocky smirk didn’t appear instantly. Instead, there was a flash of genuine surprise, followed by something darker, more heated, and appreciative.
He pushed off the wall and started walking straight toward your group, completely ignoring whatever Beomgyu was saying behind him.
“Well, well, well,” Heeseung drawled when he was close enough, his voice cutting smoothly through the music. His eyes were still shamelessly roaming over you. “Look who decided to show up. Miss morals in a mini skirt i almost didn’t recognize you damn.”
You felt your stomach twist with that familiar mix of irritation and unwanted warmth. Before you could even open your mouth to snap back, Yunjin jumped in defensively, stepping slightly in front of you with a bright but sharp smile.
“Excuse me, Heeseung? She looks amazing, and she doesn’t need your backhanded compliments,” Yunjin said, tilting her head with fake sweetness.
“Unlike some people who only know how to throw loud parties and bring random girls over during midterms, maybe focus on your own game instead of commenting on her outfit.”
Heeseung chuckled lowly, clearly amused by Yunjin’s quick defense, but his eyes never left you. Jake, Beomgyu, and Jay were now watching the exchange from a few feet away, Beomgyu smirking like he was enjoying the show and Jake looking mildly entertained.
“Relax, Yunjin,” Heeseung replied smoothly, taking a sip from his cup. “I’m just saying that she cleaned up dangerous tonight, didn’t think our neighbor owned anything shorter than ankle length. Beomgyu, Jake, Jay back me up here. She looks good, right?”
Beomgyu grinned and raised his cup in a lazy toast. “Yeah, she do be looking fire tonight.”Jake nodded with a bright laugh. “For real, new look suits you.”Jay just shook his head with a small smile, staying quiet but clearly entertained.
You rolled your eyes, lifting your red solo cup to your lips to hide the flush creeping up your cheeks. “Don’t start with me tonight, Heeseung i’m only here for one hour, and I’d rather not spend it dealing with your nonsense.”
Heeseung tilted his head, that signature cocky smirk fully back in place now as he took another slow step closer. The way he was looking at you made the noisy room feel suddenly ten degrees warmer.
“Gonna dance tonight, or are you just here to supervise everyone else’s fun like usual, miss morals?”
You didn’t even give Heeseung the satisfaction of a proper reply. Instead, you flipped him off with a sharp middle finger, turned on your heel, and grabbed Yunjin’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
Yunjin laughed loudly, clearly proud of your reaction, and let you drag her deeper into the crowded house while Heeseung’s low chuckle followed behind you. Beomgyu, Jake, and Jay were already teasing him in the background, but you refused to look back.
For the first half hour, the party actually felt manageable. You stuck close to Yunjin and Soobin, sipping from your red solo cup and people watching from a quieter corner of the living room.
The music was loud, the lights flashed in rhythm with the bass, and the alcohol slowly started to loosen the tight knot of stress that midterms had left in your chest. Then Sunghoon appeared again.
He approached your group with that easy, charming smile, eyes mostly locked on Yunjin. “Hey want to dance?”Yunjin’s face lit up like he’d just offered her the moon. She turned to you quickly, squeezing your hand. “You’ll be okay for a bit, right? I’ll be right back!”
Before you could even answer, she was gone, disappearing into the sea of bodies on the dance floor with Sunghoon’s hand on her waist, now it was just you and Soobin.
You tried to keep the conversation light, but the longer you stood there, the more the party energy started to pull at you. The drink in your cup was strong and sweet, and after two weeks of pure academic hell, the idea of letting loose felt dangerously tempting.
“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath. You downed the rest of your drink in one go, the burn sliding warmly down your throat. Then you grabbed another cup from a passing tray and started sipping again. Why not? Midterms were over. You deserved this.
Soobin noticed and raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t judge. He stayed beside you, chatting quietly, making sure you weren’t completely alone. But after a while, you started feeling guilty. He was sweet, always listening, always there and here he was babysitting you instead of enjoying the party.
“Go talk to your friends,” you told him, giving him a gentle push toward a group of guys waving at him from across the room. “Seriously, Soobin i’ll be fine, i don’t want you wasting your night stuck with me. Go have fun i’ll text you if I need anything.”
He hesitated, looking concerned, but you begged him with your best pleading eyes until he finally nodded. “Okay but stay safe, text me if anything feels off.”
Once Soobin walked away to join his friends, you let yourself drift toward the dance floor. The alcohol was hitting nicely now a warm, fuzzy buzz that made the music feel better and your body lighter.
You moved to the edge of the crowd first, swaying gently, then slowly worked your way deeper into the pulsing bodies.
You didn’t notice him at first. But Heeseung had been watching you the entire time. From the moment Yunjin disappeared with Sunghoon, his eyes had followed you. He watched you down your drinks. He watched you convince Soobin to leave.
And now he watched as you finally stepped fully onto the dance floor, hips moving to the heavy beat, the short black mini skirt riding up just enough to draw attention, the sheer shirt catching the flashing lights.
Heeseung set his cup down and started moving through the crowd toward you, slow and deliberate. When he was close enough, he didn’t just grab you like most guys would. Instead, he leaned in slightly, voice low and surprisingly respectful against the loud music.
“Hey can I dance with you?”
You turned your head, alcohol making you bold. Your eyes met his, and for once, you didn’t immediately snap at him. The buzz in your veins, the way he was looking at you like he couldn’t look away…it made something reckless spark inside you.
You nodded “Yeah okay.” Only then did Heeseung step closer. The moment he did, the space between you disappeared. His body pressed lightly against yours at first, hands hovering respectfully before you started moving together.
The music was sensual, slow and heavy, and your bodies naturally fell into rhythm. It didn’t stay innocent for long. Heeseung’s hands gradually grew bolder one sliding to your waist, the other brushing up your side, fingers grazing the sheer fabric of your shirt.
You moved closer, hips rolling against his, the short skirt brushing against his thighs. His touch grew hotter, palms sliding down to grip your hips, then slowly roaming over the curve of your ass, pulling you flush against him.
The air between you thickened. Your breathing grew heavier. Every brush of his body sent sparks through your skin. Heeseung leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, voice low. “fuck, not being able to kiss you right now is actual torture.”
The words hit you like a shot of pure heat. The alcohol, the weeks of built up tension, the way his hands felt all over your body everything crashed together in one reckless moment.
You didn’t think, you just acted. turning your head as you grabbed the front of his shirt, and crashed your lips against his.
The kiss was messy, desperate, and instantly wild. Heeseung groaned into your mouth the second your lips met, one hand flying up to cup the back of your neck while the other tightened possessively on your waist, pulling you even harder against him.
You kissed like you were angry at each other—teeth clashing, tongues sliding hot and deep, lips moving with raw hunger.
Heeseung kissed like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. His mouth was demanding, devouring, tilting your head to kiss you deeper. You moaned softly against him, fingers threading into his hair and tugging, which only made him kiss you harder.
The dance floor disappeared around you. The music faded into background noise. There was only the heat of his body, the taste of alcohol on his tongue, and the way his hands roamed greedily over your curves sliding up your back under the sheer shirt, gripping your hips, pressing you so close you could feel exactly how much he wanted you.
The makeout was crazy sloppy, passionate, breathless. You bit his lower lip, and he responded with a low growl, sucking on your tongue before kissing you even harder.
Your bodies moved together to the beat, grinding slowly while your mouths stayed locked in a heated battle.
When you finally pulled back for air, both of you were panting, lips swollen and shiny. Heeseung’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he stared down at you like he wanted to devour you right there on the dance floor.
“Shit” he breathed, forehead resting against yours. “You’re going to kill me tonight.”The kiss finally broke, both of you breathing hard, lips swollen and glistening under the flashing party lights.
Heeseung’s forehead rested against yours, his hands still gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
His eyes were dark, pupils blown with want, and the way he looked at you sent another rush of heat straight through your body.
You didn’t think. The alcohol, the weeks of hating him, the way his hands had felt all over you everything made you reckless. You leaned in closer, voice low and breathless against his ear. “Wanna go back to your apartment?”
Heeseung pulled back just enough to look at you, a dangerous smirk tugging at his swollen lips. For a split second, surprise flashed across his face, but it quickly melted into pure hunger.
“Fuck yes”
He didn’t waste another second. His hand slid down to grab yours firmly, fingers lacing tight as he started pulling you through the crowded dance floor. People moved out of the way as Heeseung cut a path toward the front door, his grip on you possessive and urgent.
You barely had time to register anything else Yunjin and Soobin were somewhere in the house, but right now, none of that mattered.The cool night air hit your flushed skin the moment you stepped outside, but it did nothing to calm the fire burning in your veins.
Heeseung’s car was parked a little down the street. He didn’t let go of your hand the entire way, and the second you reached the passenger side, he opened the door for you with surprising speed before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat.
The moment the doors closed, the tension exploded again. Heeseung started the engine, but you were already growing impatient. The short drive back to your apartment building felt too long. Every red light, every stop sign made the ache between your legs worse.
You kept stealing glances at him his jaw tight, hands gripping the steering wheel, the way his shirt was slightly undone from your earlier tugging. At the third red light, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.“Fuck this,” you muttered.
Before Heeseung could react, you unbuckled your seatbelt, climbed over the center console, and straddled his lap in one swift motion. The mini skirt rode up high on your thighs as you settled on top of him, your hands immediately cupping his face as you crashed your lips back onto his.
Heeseung groaned loudly into the kiss, his hands flying to your waist to steady you. The kiss was even wilder than on the dance floor desperate, messy, all tongue and teeth. You rocked your hips against him, grinding down slowly at first, then harder, feeling him harden beneath you through his jeans.
His hands roamed greedily, one sliding up under your sheer shirt to palm your breast over the bralette, the other gripping your ass and pulling you tighter against his growing bulge.
“Shit you’re driving me crazy,” he muttered against your mouth between kisses, voice rough and wrecked.
You moaned softly, grinding down harder, the friction sending sparks through your entire body. The car windows started to fog up as you moved together, lips never leaving each other for long.
Heeseung’s tongue slid against yours, deep and filthy, while his hips bucked up to meet your movements, the steering wheel pressing into your back.
You were completely lost in him hands in his hair, tugging, lips sucking on his bottom lip, hips rolling in desperate circles when the sharp sound of honking suddenly pierced through the haze.
Once, twice, then a chorus of angry car horns blaring behind you reality crashed back in.
You pulled away from the kiss with a gasp, lips shiny and swollen, breathing ragged. The light had turned green, and the cars lined up behind you were laying on their horns, some drivers shouting out their windows.
Heeseung let out a breathless laugh, his hands still gripping your thighs tightly. His eyes were dark, hair messy from your fingers, lips red and kiss bitten.“Fuck,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “We’re gonna cause an accident if you keep this up.”
You quickly scrambled back into the passenger seat, heart pounding, cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and lingering arousal.
Your skirt was hiked up dangerously high, and you tugged it down with shaky hands while Heeseung adjusted himself in his seat, clearly struggling to focus on the road.
He shot you a heated sideways glance, smirk returning as he pressed the gas pedal.“Almost home,” he said, voice low and promising. “Try not to jump me again until we’re inside or don’t. I'm not complaining.”
The rest of the short drive was torturous. The air in the car was thick with tension, both of you stealing glances, the memory of your grinding still fresh and electric.
When Heeseung finally pulled into the parking spot outside your shared apartment building, he killed the engine and turned to you, eyes blazing.
The second you were both out of the car, he grabbed your hand again and practically dragged you toward the entrance, the promise of what was about to happen hanging heavy between you.
The second the door to Heeseung’s apartment slammed shut behind you, all restraint vanished.He had you pinned against the wood before you could even catch your breath, mouth crashing back onto yours in a filthy, open mouthed kiss.
His hands were everywhere one sliding up under your sheer shirt to palm your breast roughly, the other gripping your ass and yanking your hips flush against the hard line of his cock already straining in his jeans.
“Been thinking about this since you walked in wearing that tiny fucking skirt,” he growled against your lips, biting your bottom lip hard enough to make you moan. “Look at you acting like such a good girl all semester and now you’re begging to get fucked in my bed.”
You didn’t deny it you couldn’t. The alcohol and weeks of pent up hatred had turned into pure, desperate need. You tugged at his shirt buttons, popping a few open in your haste, and Heeseung chuckled darkly before ripping the rest off himself.
The shirt hit the floor. Yours followed a second later, then your bralette, leaving your tits exposed to the cool air of his apartment.
Heeseung’s mouth was on your neck instantly, sucking a mark right below your jaw while his hands squeezed your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples until they were hard and aching. “So fucking pretty when you’re needy like this,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “Bet you’re already soaked for me, huh?”
You whimpered when he shoved the mini skirt up around your waist and cupped you over your panties. His fingers pressed against the soaked fabric, rubbing slow circles over your clit.
“Shit you are dripping already.” He smirked against your throat. “Such a dirty little secret you’ve been hiding, miss morals.”
You didn’t have time to snap back. Heeseung dropped to his knees right there in the entryway, hooked your panties to the side, and buried his face between your thighs without warning. His tongue dragged a long, nasty stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste of you.
“Oh my god—” Your head thunked back against the door as he licked and sucked like a man starved, two fingers sliding inside you easily because you were so wet.
He curled them perfectly, pumping fast while his tongue flicked mercilessly over your clit. The sounds were obscene wet, sloppy, loud and he didn’t care. He ate you like he wanted to ruin you.
You came hard on his tongue within minutes, thighs shaking, fingers yanking at his hair as you cried out his name. Heeseung didn’t stop until you were trembling and pushing at his head, then he stood up, lips shiny with your arousal, and kissed you deep so you could taste yourself.
“Bedroom now,” he ordered.
He didn’t wait for you to walk. He grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you like you weighed nothing, carrying you down the short hallway while your legs wrapped around his waist.
Your skirt was still bunched around your hips, panties shoved to the side. You could feel his cock pressing against your soaked core with every step.
The second he kicked his bedroom door open, he dropped you onto the bed. You barely had time to bounce before he was stripping the rest of his clothes off. His jeans and boxers hit the floor and his cock sprang free—thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip.
Your mouth watered at the sight. Heeseung climbed over you, caging you in with his arms. “You want this?” he asked, voice dark, one hand stroking his cock slowly as he looked down at you. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” you breathed, reaching down to wrap your hand around him. “Fuck me, Heeseung.”That was all it took.
He shoved your legs apart wider, lined himself up, and pushed in with one long, brutal thrust. You gasped at the stretch, nails digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out inside you, so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach.
“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, forehead dropping to yours. “Taking me so well already.”Then he started moving hard fast and filthy.
The headboard slammed against the wall with every thrust, the same wall that separated your apartments. The irony wasn’t lost on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Heeseung fucked you like he’d been imagining this exact moment for months.Deep, punishing strokes that made your tits bounce and your breath hitch.
He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder, folding you in half so he could fuck you even deeper. The new angle made you cry out, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room.
“Look at you,” he rasped, eyes locked on where his cock was disappearing inside you. “Taking every inch like a good little slut, who would’ve thought the girl next door gets this fucking nasty?”
The degradation was light, just enough to make your pussy clench harder around him. You moaned louder, hips trying to meet his thrusts.
Heeseung’s hand slid between your bodies, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit while he pounded into you.
“Come on, baby. Come on my cock again, wanna feel you squeezing me.” You shattered for the second time, back arching, walls fluttering around his thick length as your orgasm crashed through you. Heeseung fucked you through it, hips never slowing, chasing his own release.
“Fuck— I’m close,” he growled, voice strained. “Where do you want it?” He asked, “Inside,” you gasped, still riding the high. “Come inside me.”
Heeseung cursed loudly, thrusting a few more brutal times before he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. You felt every pulse, every hot spurt filling you up as he groaned your name against your neck, hips jerking through the aftershocks.
For a moment the only sounds were both of you breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat.
Heeseung stayed inside you for a long minute, forehead pressed to yours, before he finally pulled out slowly. A trickle of his cum leaked out of you onto the sheets, and he watched it with dark, satisfied eyes then collapsed beside you.
Instead of pulling away, Heeseung immediately reached for you. He wrapped one strong arm around your waist and tugged you against his chest, your back flush to his front in a tight, warm hug. His other hand gently pulled the duvet up over both of you, cocooning your naked bodies in soft warmth.
You were still sticky with sweat and cum, thighs trembling, but the way he held you possessive yet surprisingly gentle made something soft flutter in your chest despite everything.
Heeseung pressed a lazy kiss to the back of your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.“Stay,” he murmured, voice already thick with sleep as he tightened his arm around you. “Just stay.”
Exhausted, fucked out, and strangely comforted by his warmth, you let your eyes drift shut. His steady heartbeat against your back and the heavy duvet wrapped around you lulled you quickly into sleep, safe in Heeseung’s arms for the night.
ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ. next morning !
The first thing you registered was the pounding in your head. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, the dim light filtering through unfamiliar curtains making everything feel hazy. The digital clock on the nightstand glowed red 4:28 a.m.
Your mouth was dry, throat scratchy, and a dull throb pulsed behind your temples the unmistakable aftermath of too many drinks and not nearly enough sleep. You shifted slightly under the heavy duvet, and that’s when you felt it.
A warm, solid body pressed against your back. An arm draped heavily over your waist, holding you close skin against skin. The faint scent of cologne, sweat, and something distinctly masculine filled your senses.
Your heart slammed against your ribs. Memories from last night crashed over you like ice water.
The party, the red solo cup dancing. Heeseung’s hands all over your body on the dance floor. The reckless invitation. The car ride where you’d climbed into his lap like you had no shame.
The way he’d pinned you against his door, dropped to his knees in the entryway, fucked you hard on his bed until you were crying out his name. The filthy sounds. The way he’d filled you up. The way he’d pulled you against his chest afterward, hugging you tight under the duvet as you both drifted off.
You had fucked Lee Heeseung
You had fucked your loud, cocky, insufferable neighbor the basketball captain you’d spent months complaining about, the one who called you “Miss Morals” like it was the funniest joke in the world.
Mortification burned hot through your entire body. Your stomach twisted violently. What the hell had you been thinking? The alcohol had stripped away every ounce of common sense, and now you were lying naked in his bed, his cum still faintly sticky between your thighs, his arm wrapped around you like you belonged there.
Heeseung was still sound asleep behind you, breathing deep and even, his chest rising and falling steadily against your back. His face was relaxed in sleep no smirk, no cocky grin but you knew the second he woke up, everything would change.
He would never let you live this down. The teasing would be relentless. “Miss morals” would turn into something far worse. He’d smirk every time he saw you in the hallway, make dirty little comments about how loud you’d been, how desperate you’d sounded begging for him.
The walls between your apartments were thin he’d probably bring it up every time you complained about his noise again. Your life next door would become a living hell.You couldn’t stay here.
Panic clawed up your throat. You had to leave before he woke up. Before this became real. Before he opened his eyes and looked at you with that knowing, satisfied smirk.
Carefully, so carefully, you lifted his arm from your waist. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake, murmuring something incoherent under his breath. Your heart hammered as you slowly slid out from under the duvet, the cool air hitting your naked skin and raising goosebumps.
You moved like a ghost around his room, gathering your scattered clothes as quietly as possible. Your sheer black shirt, the black bralette, the dangerously short mini skirt, your panties all crumpled on the floor where they’d been tossed in the heat of the moment.
You dressed as fast as you could, fingers trembling as you buttoned the sheer shirt and tugged the mini skirt down your thighs. Your hair was a mess, makeup probably smudged, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get out.
Barefoot, shoes in hand, you tiptoed toward the bedroom door. Every creak of the floorboards felt deafening. You glanced back once at Heeseung still asleep, one arm now stretched across the empty space where you’d been, dark hair messy against the pillow.
A strange, unwelcome pang twisted in your chest, but you shoved it down hard. This never happened.
You slipped out of his bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you. The living room was dark and silent. You navigated through the unfamiliar space, heart racing, until you reached the front door. The lock clicked softly as you turned it.
The hallway was empty and dimly lit when you stepped outside. The cool air felt like freedom. You didn’t even bother putting your shoes on yet you just hurried the few steps to your own apartment door next door, fumbling with your keys until they finally slid into the lock.
The moment you were inside, you locked the door behind you, leaned against it, and slid down to the floor, breathing hard.
Your body still ached in the best and worst ways. Thighs sore, a faint bruise forming on your hip from his grip, the ghost of his touch lingering everywhere. You could still feel him inside you, still taste the heat of his mouth.
You buried your face in your hands, mortified beyond words. What had you done?You had slept with the one person you couldn’t stand and now you had to live right next door to him, pretending it never happened.
Because if Heeseung ever found out you’d run away like this, the teasing would only get worse much, much worse. You spent the rest of that early morning in a haze of denial.
Your phone vibrated then again. You reached for it with a heavy sigh, squinting at the bright screen.
yunjin ( 3 new messages )
yunjin : babe where did u go?? one second u were dancing and then u disappeared 😭
yunjin : sunghoon said he saw u leave with someone?? pls tell me ur okay
yunjin : im worried call me when u wake up!!
soobin ( 4 new messages )
soobin : hey, you okay? you left pretty suddenly last night without telling both of us yunjin’s freaking out a bit
soobin : let me know if you got home safe
soobin : if you need anything or want to talk, i’m here no pressure
soobin : hope you’re resting well ❤️
You stared at the messages, throat tightening. The kindness in Soobin’s texts and Yunjin’s worried energy made fresh tears prick at your eyes. They had no idea what you had done. No idea you had spent the night in Heeseung’s bed, letting him touch you, kiss you, fuck you like you’d lost all common sense.
You typed back with trembling fingers, keeping it short and vague
you : got home safe, just drank too much and needed to leave early sorry for worrying you guys i’m okay, just tired talk later ❤️
You sent it and immediately turned your phone on silent, burying your face in your hands the memories wouldn’t stop replaying. Heeseung’s hands on your hips, his mouth on your neck. The way he had groaned your name when he came inside you.
How safe and warm his arms had felt when he pulled you under the duvet afterward. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push it all away this never happened.
After sliding down your front door and sitting on the cold floor for what felt like hours, you finally dragged yourself to the shower.
You scrubbed your skin until it was raw, trying to wash away every trace of Heeseung his scent, his touch, the sticky evidence of what you’d done between your thighs. The hot water did nothing to erase the soreness or the vivid flashbacks that kept playing on loop in your head.
By the time the sun came up, you had made a decision this never happened. You would bury it so deep that even you would start to believe it. No one needed to know. Not Yunjin, not Soobin, not even yourself on most days.
You would go back to normal go to classes, focus on your art curator projects, complain about the noise next door like always. And most importantly, you would avoid Lee Heeseung at all costs.
ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ. flashback !
Heeseung stepped out of his apartment with a half empty water bottle in hand, planning to grab the last box from his car before the evening practice. The hallway was quiet until it wasn’t.
A girl came rushing around the corner, arms overloaded with a massive cardboard box that completely blocked her line of sight. She collided straight into his chest with a startled gasp.
The box flew out of her hands and crashed to the floor, spilling books, notebooks, and what looked like art supplies everywhere across the hallway carpet. Heeseung instinctively reached out and grabbed her arms to keep her from stumbling backward.
She looked up at him, flushed and clearly annoyed, strands of hair falling across her face from the chaotic move. She was pretty, sharp eyes, determined expression the kind of girl who didn’t seem impressed by campus status.
A smirk tugged at his lips before he could stop it.“Easy there, neighbor,” he drawled, voice laced with amusement. “You always run into people like you’re trying to tackle them, or am I just lucky?”
She blinked, then quickly crouched down to gather her scattered belongings, avoiding his gaze.“Sorry,” she muttered, tone tight and clipped. “Didn’t see you.”
Heeseung crouched down as well, picking up a thick book on museum curation that had slid toward his foot. He turned it over in his hands, raising an eyebrow.“Art stuff, huh?” he asked casually. “You moving in next door?”
“Yeah just today,” she replied shortly, snatching the book back from him with a little more force than necessary.
He stood up first and leaned against the wall, arms crossing over his chest as he watched her struggle to reorganize everything into the box. Most girls would have smiled, maybe even recognized him as the basketball captain.
This one? She looked like she already wanted nothing to do with him.“I’m Heeseung,” he said, flashing his most charming grin. “Lee Heeseung, your new neighbor. Need help carrying that? Looks heavy.” He offered,
“I’m good thanks,” she answered without even looking up, standing quickly and slinging the tote over her shoulder.
Heeseung didn’t move out of the way. Instead, he tilted his head, studying her with open curiosity. There was something refreshing about her indifference that it made him want to push a little harder.
“Just so you know,” he added, voice dropping into a teasing tone, “The walls here are pretty thin, try not to be too loud when you’re studying or doing whatever it is, serious art curator girls do at night.”Her eyes finally snapped up to his, narrowing with clear irritation.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said flatly. “And maybe you can try keeping your parties down some people actually have to study to pass their classes.”
Heeseung let out a low, genuine laugh that echoed down the empty hallway. She had bite and he liked that.
“Welcome to the building, miss morals,” he called after her as she turned toward her door, the nickname slipping out naturally. She didn’t respond. She fumbled with her keys, unlocked her apartment, and slipped inside without another word, the door shutting with a firm click.
Heeseung stood there for a moment longer, still grinning to himself. The girl next door already hated him, and he hadn’t even thrown his first party yet. This was going to be interesting.
The gym echoed with the sharp squeak of sneakers and the rhythmic bounce of basketballs. Afternoon practice was in full swing, but during a water break, Heeseung leaned against the bleachers, towel draped over his shoulders, a cocky grin already plastered on his face.
Jay tossed him a bottle of water. “You look way too happy for someone who just ran suicides.”Heeseung laughed, taking a long sip before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Can’t help it ran into the new neighbor again this morning.”
Beomgyu perked up immediately, spinning the ball on his finger. “The girl next door? The one who already hates your guts?”
“miss morals herself,” Heeseung confirmed, his smirk widening. “I was just leaving for practice when she came out, i told her the walls are thin and she should try not to be too loud at night. You should’ve seen her face, she looked like she wanted to throw her coffee at me.”
Jake, who was stretching nearby, let out a loud laugh. “Dude, you’re obsessed! that’s like the third time this week you’ve mentioned her.”
“I’m not obsessed,” Heeseung shot back, but his grin betrayed him. “It’s just too easy. She gets so worked up over the smallest things. Last week I had a couple of people over, nothing crazy and she banged on my door at midnight like the apartment was on fire, called me an entitled asshole who only passes because ‘daddy pays for everything.’”
The group burst into laughter. Sunghoon shook his head, amused. “She’s got balls, most girls on campus would be throwing themselves at you the second they find out you’re the captain.”
“Exactly,” Heeseung said, tossing the towel aside. “That’s what makes it fun, she doesn’t give a single fuck who I am. No flirty smiles, no asking for tickets to games, nothing. She just glares at me like I personally ruined her life by existing next door it’s hilarious.”
Beomgyu grinned mischievously. “So what’s your plan? Keep annoying her until she moves out?”
“Nah,” Heeseung replied, bouncing the ball once. “I’m just getting started, next time the music’s on, I might turn it up a little louder to see how long it takes before she comes marching over again. Bet she’ll have that cute little angry face on.”
Jake, who had been quietly listening while stretching his hamstrings, suddenly straightened up with a knowing look.“Don’t you think you’re in love with her or something?” he asked casually, but loud enough for the whole group to hear.
The gym went quiet for half a second before the guys exploded with laughter and teasing whistles. Heeseung nearly choked on his water. “What the fuck, Jake?”
Jake shrugged, completely unfazed. “Think about it, she’s literally the only girl who doesn’t give a shit about you no ego stroking, no chasing after the basketball star. She treats you like any other annoying neighbor and instead of leaving her alone, you keep poking at her like a kid with a new toy. That sounds like a crush to me.”
“Bullshit,” Heeseung scoffed, but his ears turned slightly red. He dribbled the ball harder than necessary, trying to play it cool. “I’m not in love with her, she’s just entertaining. It's fun watching her get all riled up, that’s it.”
Jay raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Sure ‘Entertaining.’ that’s why you bring her up every single practice.”
“Exactly,” Jake added with a grin. “If she suddenly started being nice to you, you’d probably be bored in a week but because she ignores you and calls you out, you can’t stop thinking about her.”
Heeseung pointed the ball at Jake threateningly, though his smirk was fighting to stay hidden. “Keep talking and I’ll make you run extra laps, Sim.”
The team laughed again, but Jake just held up his hands in surrender, still smiling. “I’m just saying, man. One day you’re gonna realize you’re not annoying her because it’s funny, you’re doing it because you like the way she fights back.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes and turned away, dribbling the ball toward the court to end the conversation. But as practice resumed and he sank a clean three pointer, Jake’s words lingered in the back of his mind longer than he wanted to admit.
Maybe there was a tiny bit of truth to it. Or maybe he just really, really enjoyed getting on your nerves.
The laughter from the team slowly died down as practice resumed. Heeseung shook off Jake’s teasing comment, channeling the slight irritation into sharper shots. He sank another clean three pointer, the ball swishing through the net with satisfying precision.
For a few minutes, the court felt like the only place where everything made sense no annoying neighbors, no complicated feelings, just the game. Then the gym doors swung open with a loud bang.
Everyone turned as a tall, sharply dressed man in a tailored coat strode in, his presence immediately sucking the casual energy out of the room. Coach paused mid instruction, nodding respectfully.
Heeseung’s stomach dropped the moment he recognized the figure his father. Mr. Lee didn’t smile. He never did when he showed up unannounced like this. His eyes scanned the court with cold calculation, lingering on Heeseung with clear disapproval.
“Take five, boys,” Coach called out, sensing the shift in atmosphere. Heeseung wiped the sweat from his brow and walked over, jaw already tight. “Dad what are you doing here?”Mr. Lee stopped a few feet away, arms folded behind his back. His voice was low but carried easily across the quiet gym.
“I came to see if my son is actually putting in the work that’s supposed to get him into the NBA,” he said flatly. “From what I’ve been hearing, it doesn’t look like it.”Heeseung’s friends lingered nearby, pretending to drink water but clearly listening.
“I’ve been at every practice,” Heeseung replied, keeping his tone even. “Coach said my shooting percentage is up this week—”
“Don’t make excuses,” his father cut him off sharply. “Your brother Heedo was never this distracted at your age, he was laser focused top scorer captainfull ride to the best program in the country. And you? You’re out here laughing with your little friends during water breaks, probably thinking about parties and girls instead of the game.”
Heeseung’s grip tightened on the basketball until his knuckles turned white.“I’m not distracted,” he said through gritted teeth. Mr.Lee stepped closer, voice dropping into that familiar, cutting tone that always found its mark.
“You’re good for nothing if you can’t even focus on what matters. All that talent wasted because you’d rather play around and act like some campus king. You think the scouts care about your popularity? they don’t, you will never be enough if you keep this up and you will certainly never be better than your brother.”
The words landed like punches. Heedo — the golden child. The one who had already made it pro overseas. The one their father never stopped comparing him to.Heeseung’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. He wanted to snap back, to defend himself, but years of this had taught him it was useless. His father never listened.
Mr. Lee straightened his coat, expression unchanging. “Fix it or don’t bother coming home for the holidays, i didn’t raise a failure.”Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out of the gym, the heavy doors swinging shut behind him with a final, echoing thud. The silence that followed was uncomfortable.
Heeseung stood there for a moment, staring at the floor, chest tight with anger and something heavier he refused to name. The team slowly went back to practice, but the energy had shifted. Jake shot him a concerned look, but Heeseung ignored it, dribbling the ball harder than necessary as he moved back onto the court.
Inside, the familiar bitterness churned.His father’s words echoed louder than any cheering crowd ever could. You will never be enough. You will never be better than your brother. Heeseung sank another shot, but this time it didn’t feel satisfying.
All he could think about was how easy it was to annoy the girl next door because at least when she glared at him and called him an entitled asshole, he felt something other than this hollow, crushing weight.
The heavy gym doors swung shut behind Mr. Lee, leaving an awkward silence in his wake. The team tried to resume practice, but the atmosphere had soured.
Heeseung stood frozen for a few seconds, staring at the spot where his father had been. The familiar sting of those words good for nothing, never enough, never better than your brother settled heavy in his chest like lead.
Jake jogged over, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man don’t let him get to you, your dad’s always been like that you’re killing it out here.”
“Yeah,” Beomgyu added, spinning the ball on his finger. “Ignore him, you’re the one who’s gonna make it to the NBA, not Heedo.” Jay nodded. “Come on, let’s run some more plays we’ll crush the next game.”Heeseung forced a half smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah sure.”
He went through the motions for the rest of practice dribbling, shooting, defending but he was quiet. No cocky jokes no teasing his teammates no loud laughter. Every time someone tried to pull him into conversation or hype him up after a good play, he gave short, one word replies and kept his head down. The usual spark was gone.
Even Coach noticed, shooting him concerned glances but saying nothing.The moment practice officially ended, Heeseung grabbed his bag and left first, ignoring the calls from his friends asking if he wanted to grab food. He needed air. He needed to get away from the echoes of his father’s voice.
He walked aimlessly for a while, the cool evening air doing little to clear his head. Eventually, his feet carried him toward the small café just off campus the one with decent coffee and quiet corners where he sometimes went to think.He pushed open the door, the bell jingling softly, and scanned the room out of habit and then he saw you.
You were sitting alone at a corner table near the window, surrounded by textbooks, notes, and your laptop. Your hair was tied up messily, a pen between your teeth as you frowned at something on the screen. You looked focused serious and annoyingly cute in that concentrated way of yours.
A small, familiar spark ignited in his chest the one that always appeared whenever he spotted you. Before he could think better of it, Heeseung walked straight over and slid into the seat across from you without asking.You looked up, startled at first, then your expression quickly shifted into pure annoyance.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, voice sharp but low enough not to disturb the other customers. You closed your laptop slightly, glaring at him. “This is my table, go sit somewhere else.”
Heeseung leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms, that signature smirk slowly returning despite the heavy weight still sitting in his stomach. Seeing your irritated face felt lighter somehow. Easier than dealing with everything else.
“Relax, miss morals,” he said, voice teasing. “I’m not here to ruin your precious study time. Just saw you and thought I’d say hi to my favorite neighbor.”
You rolled your eyes so hard it was almost impressive. “Favorite? We barely tolerate each other and I’m trying to work unlike some people who can afford to slack off because ‘daddy can pay for everything.’”
The jab should’ve stung more, especially after his father’s visit, but instead it made Heeseung’s smirk widen. There, it was that fire. That complete lack of care for who he was or what people usually said to him. You didn’t tiptoe around him. You didn’t try to impress him. You just called him out.
It felt strangely nice. Not in a romantic way, just refreshing ( liar liar liar he is totally in love with her ) He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “Ouch straight for the throat today. What are you working on that’s got you so grumpy? Another museum thing? Planning to curate an exhibit called ‘Why Heeseung Should Shut Up’?”
You gave him a flat look, clearly not amused. “It’s for my capstone project and yes, if it helps keep loud neighbors quiet, I might include a whole section on it.”
Heeseung chuckled softly, the sound genuine even if it was quiet. For the first time since his dad had shown up, the tight knot in his chest loosened just a fraction. He realized something in that moment. Your company wasn’t bad.
In fact, sitting here watching you get all annoyed and snappy at him felt better than sitting alone with his father’s words ringing in his head. It was simple predictable in the best way. You gave him a reaction real, unfiltered and for a few minutes, it made everything else fade into the background.
He loved annoying you. Not because he wanted to hurt you but because when you pushed back, it reminded him he was still here. Still capable of feeling something other than pressure and disappointment.
“Fine,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, though he made no move to leave. “I’ll behave for now but only if you tell me what that exhibit is actually about.” You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, clearly debating whether to kick him out or just ignore him. Heeseung waited, smirk still in place, secretly hoping you’d keep arguing with him a little longer.
ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ. heeseung’s pov !
Heeseung woke up to a heavy, unfamiliar silence.
His eyes opened slowly, the soft gray morning light filtering through the curtains. His body felt sore in places that reminded him immediately of last night a dull ache in his shoulders, the faint stickiness between the sheets, the faint scent of sex still hanging in the air.
He turned his head to the side the bed was empty. The spot where you had been lying was cold, the pillow slightly dented but untouched now. No clothes scattered on the floor no shoes by the door nothing.
Heeseung sat up slowly, rubbing his face with both hands. The memories came back in quiet, unflinching flashes the party you in that short black skirt.The heated dancing that turned into something reckless.The desperate makeout in his car while horns blared behind you.
How he’d carried you inside, how urgently you both had moved against each other against the door, then on this bed.The way you had moaned his name.The way he had finished inside you.
And how, afterward, he had pulled you close under the duvet, your back against his chest, both of you falling asleep in silence.
Now you were gone. He glanced at the clock. 7:23 a.m. You must have woken up in a panic sometime in the early hours and slipped out while he was still asleep. The realization settled in his stomach like a stone heavy, uncomfortable, and strangely final.
Heeseung let out a long, tired breath and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat there for a moment, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. This was a mistake, a stupid, drunken mistake.
You had always made it clear how much you couldn’t stand him. The constant complaints about his noise, the glares in the hallway, the way you called him entitled behind his back.
Last night had been nothing more than too much alcohol and bad judgment on both sides. You waking up and running away only confirmed it.He didn’t blame you. If anything, he felt a quiet wave of regret wash over him. He should have known better.
He should have stopped things before they went that far. Now things between you two were already tense, this was going to be even more awkward.
Heeseung stood up and walked to the bathroom. While the shower heated up, he looked at himself in the mirror. There were faint scratch marks on his shoulders and a small bruise near his collarbone. Physical proof that last night had really happened.
He stepped under the hot water, letting it run over his face and shoulders. It never happened, he told himself. That was the only way forward.He would forget about it. Pretend the entire night was a blur he couldn’t quite remember.
No teasing no comments in the hallway no bringing it up ever again. You clearly wanted to erase it, and honestly so did he. The last thing he needed right now was more complications in his life especially with someone who lived right next door.
After the shower, he got dressed in a simple black t-shirt and sweatpants. He made coffee in the kitchen, moving on autopilot. The apartment felt too quiet now.
Heeseung leaned against the counter, sipping the bitter drink, and stared at the wall that separated his place from yours.From now on, things would go back to normal. You would keep avoiding him like you always did.
He would keep his music at a reasonable volume when he remembered. And neither of you would ever speak about what happened last night. It was better this way, cleaner and simpler.
He finished his coffee, rinsed the mug, and set it in the sink. Last night was a mistake and as far as Heeseung was concerned, it was already forgotten.
For the next two weeks, you turned your life into a carefully orchestrated mission of avoidance while your body slowly started betraying you in ways you couldn’t ignore. The mantra remained the same this never happened.
Every morning began the same way. Your alarm went off at 6:15 a.m., pulling you from restless sleep. The moment you sat up, a familiar wave of nausea rolled through your stomach, not violent, but persistent and queasy, making the room feel slightly off balance.
You’d sit on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, breathing slowly through your nose, waiting for it to pass. Some mornings it did. Others, you’d rush to the bathroom and dry heave over the sink, nothing coming up except bitter bile and a metallic taste that lingered on your tongue.
Once the worst of it subsided, you’d quickly get ready, choosing simple, comfortable clothes that wouldn’t draw attention. Then came the listening part. You’d press your ear to the front door, heart beating a little too fast, straining to hear any sound from Heeseung’s apartment next door.
If you caught even the faintest click of his lock or the low murmur of his voice on a phone call, you’d wait sometimes ten minutes, sometimes twenty pretending to reorganize your bag or check your notes until the hallway was silent again.
Leaving became a tactical exercise. You slipped out as quietly as possible, taking the side staircase instead of the main hallway whenever you spotted his car in the parking lot. The fatigue hit hardest during these moments.
Your legs felt heavier than usual, and by the time you reached campus, you were already drained, needing to sit down in the library for a few minutes just to catch your breath. Coming home was even more stressful.
You started timing your returns obsessively. If practice usually ended around 6 p.m., you’d stay late at the library or in an empty classroom, working on your capstone exhibition proposal until you were sure Heeseung was either out with friends or already inside. One evening, the dizziness caught you off guard.
You had just turned the corner into your hallway when the world tilted slightly. You had to lean against the wall, breathing shallowly, while a strong wave of nausea made your stomach churn.
The faint scent of someone’s dinner cooking nearby sent you rushing the last few steps to your door. The moment you got inside, you barely made it to the toilet before vomiting actual, forceful vomiting that left you trembling on the cold tile floor.
You told yourself it was stress. The constant hyper vigilance. The lack of proper sleep. The emotional weight of pretending that night had never occurred. But the symptoms kept creeping in, growing harder to dismiss.
Smells became your enemy. The aroma of coffee from the café near campus, which you used to love, now made your stomach revolt. You switched to plain crackers and ginger tea, keeping a secret stash in your bag.
Even the scent of your own shampoo sometimes triggered a gag reflex. Food tasted strange too salty, too sweet, or completely off. You lost interest in meals altogether, surviving on small portions that you could keep down.
The fatigue settled deep in your bones. You’d come home from classes, collapse on the couch, and wake up hours later feeling like you hadn’t rested at all.
Your breasts felt tender and slightly swollen, brushing against your shirt making you wince. Mood swings hit at random. One minute you were focused on your work, the next you felt inexplicably teary or irritable. All of this made the avoidance even more draining.
One Thursday night, your timing failed you had stayed late at the library, hoping Heeseung would already be inside. When you finally dragged your tired body back to the building, the hallway lights felt blindingly bright.
Just as you reached your door, fumbling with your keys, you heard the unmistakable click of his lock opening.Panic surged through you. Your hands shook so badly that the keys nearly dropped. You managed to slip inside just as his door opened, pressing your back against the wood, heart hammering wildly.
You held your breath, listening to his footsteps pass by. The moment they faded, the nausea hit like a wave. You barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up again, knees weak, tears stinging your eyes from the force of it.
Afterward, you sat on the bathroom floor with your forehead resting on your knees, breathing shakily. This was getting worse.You were exhausted from the constant calculation when to leave, when to return, which route to take, how long to wait in the stairwell. The thin wall between your apartments felt like a constant threat.
You’d hear him moving around sometimes. The low sound of his music ( mercifully quieter these days ), the murmur of his voice when he was on the phone, the occasional laugh. Every sound made your stomach twist with anxiety and unwelcome memories.
You became hyper aware of everything. You avoided cooking anything with strong smells. You did laundry at 2 a.m. when you were sure he was asleep. You even changed the time you took showers, worried the sound of running water might coincide with him coming home.
Yunjin and Soobin noticed the changes. “You’ve been canceling plans a lot,” Yunjin said during one quick lunch. “And you look really tired, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a weak smile while fighting the nausea brought on by the smell of her food. “Just stressed about the capstone deadline it’s taking everything out of me.”
Soobin watched you quietly, concern clear in his eyes, but he didn’t push. Inside your apartment, the symptoms continued to build.
Mornings were brutal. You’d wake up with tender breasts and that persistent queasy feeling. Some days the vomiting was so bad you had to keep a small bucket discreetly by your bed.
The fatigue made it hard to focus during lectures. You'd find yourself zoning out, head heavy, fighting the urge to lay your head on the desk. Yet you refused to connect the dots .It’s just stress, you told yourself repeatedly. The avoidance the guilt the lack of sleep.
You pushed through, continuing your careful dance of avoidance. You timed every exit and entry with military precision. You became an expert at predicting Heeseung’s schedule ( she should become a dispatch employee )
You kept your headphones on to drown out any sound from next door. You buried yourself in your art curator work, sketching exhibition layouts late into the night until your eyes burned.Two full weeks passed in this strange limbo.
You were pale, exhausted, and constantly on edge. The nausea came in unpredictable waves. The fatigue made simple tasks feel monumental. And the fear of accidentally seeing Heeseung in the hallway kept you trapped in this self imposed isolation.
Deep down, a small, terrified voice in the back of your mind whispered that something was very wrong. But you silenced it the same way you silenced every memory of that night this never happened.
You would keep avoiding him. You would keep pretending everything was normal.Even as your body screamed louder and louder that nothing was normal anymore.
One ordinary afternoon, everything shifted. You were sitting in the small campus café with Yunjin and Soobin, the three of you squeezed around a corner table. Yunjin was dramatically slumped in her chair, one hand pressed to her lower stomach, complaining loudly.
“Ugh, my period is literally killing me today,” she groaned, stirring her iced latte with a pout. “Cramps are so bad, I can barely sit straight why does it always hit the worst during the worst season? I swear my uterus hates me.”
Soobin chuckled softly, offering her a sympathetic smile. “Do you want me to grab you some painkillers from the convenience store?” You tried to smile and nod along, but the words barely registered.
Her period is killing her…..
The sentence echoed in your head like a siren your own period. You mentally counted the days. It should have come a full week ago. Seven days late. Maybe more.
You had been so caught up in avoiding Heeseung, dealing with the constant nausea, fatigue, and vomiting that you hadn’t even noticed the date slipping by. Your heart started beating faster.
You pulled out your phone under the table and quietly opened your cycle tracking app. The screen glowed with the familiar calendar. A bright red notification stared back at you
period : 7 days late
You stared at the words until they blurred. No no, no, no. You tried to push the thought away immediately. It had to be stress. The irregular sleep, the constant anxiety of avoiding Heeseung, the vomiting all of it could easily throw your cycle off. That was normal right?
But then the symptoms started flashing through your mind like warning lights. The persistent nausea every morning. The vomiting that left you weak on the bathroom floor. The crushing fatigue that made it hard to stay awake in lectures.
The dizziness, sensitivity to smells, tender, swollen breasts. Your stomach dropped, could you be pregnant?
The word felt foreign and terrifying in your head. No. Absolutely not. You wouldn’t get pregnant from one night. One reckless, stupid night. People had unprotected sex all the time and nothing happened.
You were on the pill…wait, were you? You had been so stressed with midterms that you couldn’t even remember if you had taken it properly that week. The thought made bile rise in your throat again.
Across the table, Yunjin and Soobin were still talking something about upcoming assignments and a group project. Their voices sounded far away, like you were underwater.You couldn’t focus on a single word they were saying. Your mind was spinning, heart pounding so hard you were sure they could hear it.
Yunjin waved a hand in front of your face. “Hello? Earth to you! you’ve been spacing out the entire time are you okay?”You blinked, forcing yourself back to the present. Your mouth felt dry.
“I—yeah, sorry just tired,” you mumbled. “Guys, I think I’m gonna head home early today my head’s killing me.”Soobin frowned, concern clear in his eyes. “Do you want me to walk you back?”“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly, already standing up and grabbing your bag. “I’ll text you later promise.”
You left the café before they could protest, walking fast, then almost jogging once you were out of sight. The nausea was back, stronger now, mixing with pure terror. Your hands were shaking as you headed straight for the small convenience store two blocks away.
Inside the store, you felt like every camera was watching you. You moved quickly through the aisles, heart hammering, until you found the family planning section. There were several pregnancy test kits.
You grabbed the most reliable looking one with trembling fingers, not even reading the brand properly. The cashier gave you a neutral look as you paid, but you couldn’t meet her eyes.
Bag clutched tightly to your chest, you practically ran the entire way back to your apartment building. You took the side stairs again, praying Heeseung wasn’t around. The moment you were inside your own apartment, you locked the door twice and leaned against it, breathing hard.
You pulled the kit out of the bag with shaking hands. The box felt heavy dangerous. You read the instructions carefully, twice. Pee on the stick. Wait three minutes. One line = not pregnant. Two lines = pregnant simple but terrifying.
You went to the bathroom, heart pounding so loudly it echoed in your ears. You followed every step exactly, hands trembling so badly you almost dropped the test. When you were done, you placed the stick on the counter and set a timer on your phone three minutes.
You paced the small bathroom, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Every second felt like an hour. The nausea was back, but this time it had nothing to do with morning sickness. It was pure fear.
What if it was positive?
What if you were actually pregnant with Heeseung’s baby?
The thought made your knees weak. You slid down the wall until you were sitting on the cold tile floor, staring at the test on the counter like it was a bomb about to go off.The timer was still counting down.
Two minutes left. You hugged your knees to your chest, eyes fixed on the small plastic stick that now, held your entire future in two little lines. You were so scared.
The timer on your phone hit zero with a soft chime that felt deafening in the small bathroom. You stayed frozen on the cold tile floor for several long seconds, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the pregnancy test lying face up on the counter like it was a live grenade.
Slowly, you pushed yourself up on shaky legs and stepped closer. One line was already dark and clear the control line. The second line was faint at first, but unmistakable. A pale pink line slowly darkening right beside the first one.
two lines = positive
You blinked hard, once, twice, as if the result would magically change if you stared long enough.“No…” you whispered, voice cracking. “No, that can’t be right.”Denial crashed over you like a wave. You snatched the test off the counter and held it closer to the light, turning it at different angles. Maybe it was a faulty test.
Maybe the line was an evaporation line. Maybe you had read the instructions wrong. You grabbed the box again and reread the instructions three more times, your hands trembling so badly the paper shook.
But no matter how many times you checked, the two lines stared back at you, clear and undeniable. It was positive. You were pregnant. The reality slammed into you all at once.
Your knees buckled. You sank back down to the bathroom floor, the test still clutched tightly in your hand. A sob tore out of your throat before you could stop it. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as the full weight of what this meant crashed over you.
You were pregnant with Heeseung’s baby. The boy you couldn’t stand. The neighbor you had spent months avoiding. The one person you had sworn to pretend never touched you.
A broken sound escaped you half sob, half laugh of pure disbelief. Your free hand moved instinctively to your stomach, pressing lightly against the still flat surface. There was a life growing inside you right now. A tiny, real consequence of one reckless, drunken night.
The crying came harder. You curled in on yourself, forehead resting on your knees as sobs wracked your body. All the symptoms you had tried to blame on stress the nausea, the vomiting, the fatigue, the dizziness suddenly made perfect, terrifying sense.
You were going to have a baby. And the father was the last person on earth you wanted to be tied to. After several long minutes, the tears slowed, leaving you drained and hollow. You wiped your face with the back of your hand, staring blankly at the two pink lines.
You made a decision right there on the bathroom floor. You were not telling Heeseung anything, not a single word.He didn’t need to know. He would never know. Telling him would only make everything worse the teasing, the drama, the forced proximity, the endless complications with someone you already couldn’t stand.
You could barely handle living next door to him as it was. Bringing a child into that mess was unthinkable. This was your problem. Your body, your choice. You would handle it quietly. You would get rid of it.The thought made fresh tears sting your eyes, but you forced them back. There was no other option.
You were still in school, chasing your dream of becoming an art curator. Your life was barely stable right now. A baby, especially one with Heeseung as the father would ruin everything.
You stayed on the floor for a long time, clutching the test, letting the weight of the decision settle over you.
Eventually, you stood up on unsteady legs. You wrapped the test in toilet paper and hid it deep in the trash can under some tissues. You washed your face with cold water until the redness in your eyes faded a little.
You looked at your reflection pale, exhausted, terrified and whispered to yourself “This never happened.” You would schedule an. appointment. You would end this quietly.You would move on with your life and never speak of that night again.
But as you turned off the bathroom light and stepped into your silent apartment, the weight in your chest felt heavier than ever. You were pregnant. And for the first time since that night, the wall between you and Heeseung felt like it was closing in.
The decision sat heavy in your chest like a stone. You weren’t going to tell Heeseung. You were going to end this quietly and move on with your life. The very next morning, you tried to make the appointment.
You sat on your bed with your laptop open, hands shaking as you searched for clinics near campus that offered termination services. Your stomach was already churning with nausea again, but you forced yourself to focus.
You found a few options a women’s health clinic downtown and a Planned Parenthood branch about twenty minutes away. You clicked on the booking page for the first one. The form asked for your name, date of birth, contact number, and reason for visit.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time. You couldn’t do it. Every time you tried to type your real information, panic surged through you. What if someone recognized your name? What if the clinic called or sent confirmation texts while you were near Heeseung?
What if the appointment somehow got back to campus gossip? The thought of walking into a clinic alone, explaining your situation to a stranger, and going through with it made your throat close up.
You closed the laptop without saving anything. You told yourself you’d try again tomorrow when you felt calmer. But tomorrow came and went. Then the next day. And the next. Meanwhile, the symptoms grew worse.
The nausea was no longer just morning sickness it hit you at random times throughout the day. The smell of food in the cafeteria made you gag. Even walking past the coffee shop near campus triggered violent waves that left you rushing to the nearest bathroom.
You started carrying saltine crackers and a small bottle of ginger ale everywhere, but they barely helped anymore.
Vomiting became more frequent. One afternoon during a lecture, you had to excuse yourself midway through and barely made it to the restroom before throwing up.
You returned to class pale and sweaty, mumbling something about food poisoning when Yunjin looked at you worriedly.
Fatigue wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. You fell asleep in the library twice that week, waking up with your cheek stuck to your notebook. Simple tasks like climbing the stairs to your apartment left you breathless and dizzy.
Your breasts were constantly tender, and your mood swung wildly one moment you were numb, the next you felt like crying over nothing. Yunjin and Soobin started noticing. During lunch on Thursday, Yunjin set her chopsticks down and stared at you.
“Okay, something is seriously wrong,” she said, voice firm but concerned. “You’ve been looking like a ghost for days, you barely eat anything, you keep disappearing to the bathroom, and you look exhausted even when you say you slept are you sick? Is it stress? Talk to us.”
Soobin nodded, his gentle eyes filled with worry. “You’ve been canceling plans and spacing out a lot. If something’s going on, you don’t have to deal with it alone. We’re here.”You forced a weak smile, pushing your untouched food around your plate. The smell of it was making you nauseous again.
“I’m okay, really,” you lied, voice quieter than usual. “Just… really behind on my capstone. The deadline is stressing me out more than I thought. I’ll be fine once I catch up.”
They didn’t look convinced, but they let it drop for the moment. Still, you could feel their eyes on you for the rest of the meal. Even Heeseung started noticing something was off.
You had managed to avoid direct contact with him for weeks, but it was impossible to hide everything when you lived next door.
One evening, you were coming home later than usual after another failed attempt to book the appointment online. You felt dizzy and nauseous, moving slowly up the hallway with your keys already in hand. As you reached your door, Heeseung’s door opened.
He stepped out, wearing a simple black hoodie, hair slightly messy like he’d just come back from practice. His eyes landed on you immediately.
You froze for half a second, then quickly turned your face away and fumbled with your lock, trying to get inside before he could say anything. But Heeseung didn’t tease you this time.
Instead, he paused in his doorway, brow slightly furrowed as he watched you. You looked pale. Thinner. There were dark circles under your eyes, and the way you moved seemed off fragile.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. For once, the usual cocky remark didn’t come.“You good?” he asked quietly, voice lacking its normal edge.
You didn’t answer. You finally got the door open and slipped inside without looking at him, shutting it quickly behind you
Heeseung stood there for a moment longer, staring at your closed door with a strange, unsettled feeling in his chest. Something wasn’t right with you. He could see it.But after everything after that night you both had silently agreed to forget he didn’t know if he had the right to ask.
Inside your apartment, you leaned against the door, breathing hard. Fresh tears stung your eyes as another wave of nausea hit you. You slid down to the floor, hugging your knees. You still hadn’t been able to book the appointment.
The symptoms were getting worse every day, your friends were worried and now even Heeseung had noticed something was wrong. You pressed your forehead to your knees, whispering to yourself again and again
“This never happened… this never happened…” But the lie was starting to feel impossible to keep. Heeseung had noticed. For the past two weeks, it had become painfully obvious that you were avoiding him like the plague.
At first, he thought it was the usual the cold shoulder after that night you both had silently agreed to forget. But it quickly went beyond that. You timed your movements with military precision.
He would hear your door open and close at odd hours, always when he was either inside or already gone. You took the side stairs. You left earlier than usual in the mornings and came back much later at night.
Even at university, catching a glimpse of you had become nearly impossible. You seemed to disappear into the library or empty classrooms the moment practice ended.It was clear you were doing everything in your power to never cross paths with him.
Heeseung told himself it didn’t bother him. He had decided to forget that night too. No teasing. No bringing it up. Just normal or as normal as things could be when you lived right next door
But something was wrong. You looked terrible lately. He first noticed it in passing the dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders seemed to slump with exhaustion. Then it got worse you moved slower.
Your face was paler than usual. You barely left your apartment except for classes, and even then you looked like you were running on empty.
One evening, after a long basketball practice, Heeseung was walking back to the apartment building, gym bag slung over his shoulder. The sun had already set, and the streetlights cast long shadows on the path. That’s when he saw you.
You were a few meters ahead, heading toward the entrance. Your steps were unsteady, one hand pressed lightly against the wall for support.
Even from behind, he could tell something was very wrong. Your posture was slumped, your breathing looked shallow, and you looked like you were barely holding yourself upright.
Heeseung’s stomach tightened. He quickened his pace without thinking and caught up to you just as you reached the building door.“Hey,” he said, voice low and serious, no trace of his usual teasing tone. “Are you alright?”
You turned your head slightly, eyes glassy and tired. The moment you recognized him, your expression hardened.“I don’t have time for your teasing right now, Heeseung,” you muttered weakly, trying to push past him toward the elevator.
Heeseung felt a flash of annoyance, not because you were dismissing him, but because he was genuinely worried and you clearly didn’t believe it.“I’m not teasing,” he said, more sharply than he intended. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
You didn’t respond, just kept walking toward the elevator. Heeseung followed, stepping in right after you. The doors closed, trapping the two of you in the small space. The silence was thick and uncomfortable. He could hear your breathing too fast, too shallow.
When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out first. But the moment your feet hit the hallway, your legs buckled. You swayed dangerously, one hand reaching out blindly for the wall as the world spun around you. Heeseung moved fast.
He dropped his gym bag and caught you before you could hit the floor, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other supporting your back. Your body went limp against him for a few terrifying seconds.
“Shit—” he muttered, heart pounding. “Hey, stay with me.” You were half conscious, mumbling something incoherent about being fine. Heeseung didn’t waste time arguing. He adjusted his grip and lifted you carefully into his arms in bridal style, your head lolling against his shoulder.
Your apartment was right next to his. He fumbled for a moment with your keys ( which had fallen from your hand ) until he managed to unlock the door. He carried you inside, kicking the door shut behind him, and headed straight for your bedroom.
The room was neat but clearly lived in textbooks stacked on the desk, a half finished sketch on the table, a small trash can near the bed. Heeseung gently laid you down on the bed, pulling the blanket over you. Your face was pale, forehead slightly damp with sweat.
He stood there for a moment, unsure what to do. You looked so small and fragile like this. Nothing like the fiery girl who used to bang on his door and call him an entitled asshole.
Heeseung grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and placed it on your nightstand. Then he pulled up the chair from your desk and sat down beside the bed, watching you carefully.
Your breathing slowly evened out. The tension in your face relaxed as you slipped into a deeper sleep. Heeseung stayed there, elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what was going on with you.
He didn’t know why you looked so sick. He didn’t even know if you’d want him here when you woke up. But right now, leaving you alone didn’t feel like an option. So he stayed quietly waiting.
Until your breathing became steady and deep, and he was sure you were fully asleep. Heeseung stayed. He told himself he’d only wait until you fell into a proper sleep, but the longer he sat there watching your pale face and shallow breathing, the harder it became to leave.
You looked exhausted, truly exhausted in a way that went beyond simple tiredness. Dark circles under your eyes, lips slightly chapped, skin lacking its usual color. Something was clearly wrong, and the protective instinct he didn’t know he had kept him rooted to the chair.
After almost an hour, when your breathing had deepened into steady, even inhales, Heeseung stood up quietly. He couldn’t just sit there doing nothing. He moved silently through your apartment, careful not to make noise.
Your kitchen was small and neat, but the fridge was nearly empty a few bottles of water, some crackers, and not much else. Heeseung frowned. No wonder you looked so drained. He opened the cupboards and found rice, a couple of eggs, and some ginger.
Simple gentle on the stomach. He decided to make congee something light that his mom used to make for him when he was sick.
He worked quietly, chopping what little he could find, boiling water, and stirring the pot on low heat. The smell of ginger and warm rice slowly filled the small apartment. He hoped it would help when you woke up. Maybe it would make you feel a little better.
He kept glancing toward the bedroom every few minutes, making sure you were still resting. Almost two hours later, you started stirring.
Heeseung was just turning off the stove when he heard movement from the bedroom. He poured some congee into a bowl, added a bit of water to make it lighter, and was about to bring it to you when
You bolted upright in bed, eyes wide with sudden panic. The smell of the food hit you like a wave. Your face went even paler, hand flying to your mouth as nausea surged violently. Heeseung’s eyes widened. “Hey—”
You didn’t wait. You scrambled off the bed on shaky legs and ran straight to the bathroom, barely making it in time.
Heeseung followed right behind you, worry spiking through his chest. He reached the bathroom door just as you dropped to your knees in front of the toilet and started throwing up violently.
“Shit—” He moved quickly, kneeling beside you without hesitation. One hand gently gathered your hair, holding it back from your face. His other hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay I’ve got you, just breathe.”
You retched again, body trembling with the force of it. Heeseung stayed right there, murmuring quiet reassurances, his hand never stopping its gentle motion on your back.
When the worst of it seemed to pass, he reached over and flushed the toilet, then grabbed a clean towel from the rack and dampened it with cool water.“Here,” he said softly, handing you the towel. “Wipe your face.”
You took it with trembling hands, still breathing hard. Heeseung stood up briefly to get a glass of water from the sink and brought it back to you.“Small sips,” he instructed, crouching down again. “Don’t drink too fast.”
While you rinsed your mouth and took careful sips, Heeseung’s eyes wandered around the small bathroom, looking for anything that might help. His gaze landed on the trash can beside the sink. Something white and plastic was poking out from under some tissues.
Curious, he reached down and pulled it out, it was a pregnancy test. Two distinct red lines stared back at him clear, unmistakable, and positive. Heeseung froze.
His brain short circuited for a second. The test felt heavy in his hand as the reality sank in. Positive you were pregnant. He slowly turned his head toward you. You were already looking at him.
Your eyes were wide with pure terror, face drained of all color, lips parted in shock. You looked caught completely and utterly caught like the worst secret in the world had just been ripped open. The glass of water trembled in your hand.
Heeseung’s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. His gaze flicked between the test in his hand and your terrified expression.
The pieces clicked together horribly fast the avoidance, the exhaustion, the vomiting, the way you looked like you were barely holding yourself together for the past two weeks.
This wasn’t just stress this was because of that night because of him. Heeseung swallowed hard, his voice coming out quieter than he expected.
“…Is this yours?” The bathroom fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. You were still staring at him, tears already gathering in your eyes again, looking like you wanted the floor to swallow you whole.
Heeseung didn’t know what to say. He only knew that everything had just changed. Heeseung stared at the two red lines on the pregnancy test for what felt like an eternity.
The bathroom was deathly quiet except for your shaky breathing. When he finally looked up at you, your face was pale, eyes wide with pure terror, tears already spilling down your cheeks. He swallowed hard, his throat tight.
“…Are you pregnant?” he asked, voice low and rough. You didn’t speak at first. Your lips trembled as fresh tears rolled down your face. Then you gave a small, barely noticeable nod.
Heeseung felt something twist sharply in his chest. He looked back down at the test, then at you again. His next question came out quieter, almost hesitant.
“Is the baby mine?” The moment the words left his mouth, your face crumpled completely. You broke into heavy, broken sobs, shoulders shaking as you tried to cover your mouth with one hand.
“I’m sorry…” you choked out between cries. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t want this to happen, i never meant for any of this, it was just one stupid night and I— I’m planning on getting rid of it. I won’t bother you with any of this, i won’t get in your way. You don’t have to worry about anything, i’ll handle it quietly.”
Heeseung’s expression shifted the instant you said those words. Hurt flashed across his face raw, unguarded hurt. His brows drew together, jaw tightening as he processed what you were saying.
The idea that you were planning to terminate the pregnancy without even telling him felt like a punch to the gut. His hand holding the test lowered slowly to his side. You kept crying, words tumbling out faster now, desperate and apologetic.
“I’m really sorry. I know you didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for this either, i’ll take care of everything. You can just forget about it…i promise I won’t drag you into anything.”
Heeseung stayed silent for a long moment, staring at you as you sat on the bathroom floor, looking small and devastated.
The hurt in his chest mixed with something heavier confusion, disbelief, and a strange ache he couldn’t quite name. Finally, his voice came out low and strained.
contains: 11 screenshots, 2 written sections, cursing, sunghoon is lowk a douche but its ok, friendly banter, multiple references to speed (sry his tiktok stickers r funny to me), ignore timestamps, lowercase intended, possible grammar errors ?
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y/n is sprinting across campus.
her bag is half-zipped, one notebook threatening to fall out with every step. her headphones are tangled around her hand, and she’s trying—unsuccessfully—to fix them while also not tripping over her own feet.
people pass by her in neat outfits, coffee in hand, looking put together in a way she absolutely is not.
she cuts a corner too fast—
and runs straight into someone.
“shit, im so sorry—“
it happens quickly.
one second she’s about to fall, the next she’s being steadied—hands gripping her arms just firmly enough to keep her upright.
she freezes for a second, then looks up.
…oh.
he’s—
really pretty.
annoyingly pretty.
not in an obvious way, not in a trying-too-hard way. just… clean, composed, sharp features and quiet eyes that look like they’re always thinking about something else.
he lets go of her almost immediately, like the contact didn’t matter. like she didn’t almost crash into him at full speed.
“watch where the hell you’re going."
for a split second, y/n just blinks at him, a polite, slightly awkward smile still on her face from the apology she didn’t even get to finish.
then it fades quickly.
her brows pull together, lips pressing into a thin line as she watches him walk off, even bumping her shoulder, like nothing happened.
“…what an asshole,” she mutters under her breath.
by the time y/n makes it to the consumer behaviour lecture hall, she’s still a little out of breath—and more than a little annoyed.
the room is already filling up, that low hum of first-day energy buzzing through the space. chairs scrape against the floor, people greet each other like they didn’t just disappear for a month, laptops open, bags drop, someone’s already complaining about the syllabus they haven’t even seen yet.
it’s loud.
too loud for how early it is.
y/n slips into a seat near the middle, dropping her bag with a quiet thud and pushing her hair back off her face. she exhales slowly, trying to calm down, trying to reset.
okay. new semester. fresh start.
she pulls her laptop out, setting it on the desk, fingers still slightly cold from being outside.
“good morning, everyone.”
the professor’s voice cuts through the noise, and the room slowly settles as ms. schmidt walks to the front, already pulling up her slides like she’s been awake and productive for hours.
y/n straightens a little, opening her laptop properly this time, trying to look at least somewhat put together.
“welcome to consumer behavior,” ms. schmidt says, smiling like this is exciting.
“we’ll be jumping right in this semester, so i hope you all had a good break.”
a few people laugh softly. someone behind y/n groans.
y/n just stares at the front, already suspicious.
that sentence never means anything good.
“you’ll be working on a month-long group project,” ms. schmidt continues, clicking to the next slide.
and there it is.
the collective reaction is immediate—groans, whispers, someone actually dropping their head onto the desk in defeat.
y/n closes her eyes for a second.
of course, group project.
she doesn’t even know anyone in this room.
“i’ve already assigned your partners,” ms. schmidt adds, way too casually.
y/n’s eyes snap back up.
no discussion? no choosing? no chance to at least sit next to someone normal first?
“you’ll find your names in the pdf i just uploaded. please take a moment to look," she continues. "go ahead and sit with your partners now. we'll be going over what you need to do for your project."
the room shifts instantly—keyboards clicking, phones unlocking, people leaning toward each other to compare screens.
y/n hesitates just for a second.
like maybe if she waits, it won’t apply to her (it definitely applies to her.)
she sighs and opens the file.
the list loads slowly, rows of names organized into pairs.
she scrolls past names she doesn’t recognize.
her eyes skim until—
she sees her name.
and right next to it—
sunghoon park.
the name didn't click to her, of course. who is this guy?
then, the room immediately shifts into motion.
chairs scrape loudly against the floor, people turning, calling out names, half-laughing as they try to find each other.
“wait, who has—”
“are you—”
“oh, hey, i think we’re together—”
it’s chaos.
but y/n doesn’t move.
instead, she stays seated, watching as people slowly pair off, dragging their things across the room, settling into new seats.
okay… i’ll just wait. she thought to herself.
it made sense in her head.
everyone else will find their partners, and whoever’s left—that’ll be hers.
no awkward asking. no guessing. no embarrassing herself in front of strangers.
she leans back slightly, scrolling on her phone like she’s not actively stalling.
one by one, the empty seats disappear.
voices quiet down as people settle, and the room starts to stabilize again.
and then—
she notices it.
there’s still one person sitting alone.
two rows ahead.
he hasn’t moved much—just sitting there, one arm resting on the desk, phone in hand, occasionally glancing up as if scanning the room.
like he’s waiting, like he’s trying to figure it out too.
y/n frowns slightly.
wait…
no.
there’s no way.
it's him.
the guy she bumped into earlier this morning.
and as if on cue, he looks up again—
and this time, his gaze lands directly on her.
they both pause.
it’s subtle at first.
just a second too long, and just enough to notice.
then it clicks.
oh.
oh no.
y/n straightens slightly in her seat, her expression tightening as realization settles in.
him? seriously?
he doesn’t even look surprised.
just… mildly annoyed.
like this confirms something he was already expecting.
for a second, neither of them moves.
just staring; processing.
and then—almost reluctantly—
sunghoon stands.
he grabs his things and walks over.
y/n watches him the entire time, her expression stuck somewhere between disbelief and irritation.
he stops next to her desk.
a beat.
“…y/n?” his voice is calm. flat. like he already knows the answer.
she exhales slowly. “sunghoon?”
another pause.
“…great,” she mutters.
he pulls out the chair next to her and sits down without another word.
like this is already a situation he doesn’t feel like dealing with.
y/n stares straight ahead, lips pressed together, trying not to laugh out of pure disbelief. or cry.
genre: romcom smau, classmates to lovers, grumpy x sunshine trope
synopsis: choi y/n is the self proclaimed “lover girl.” shes the kind of person who makes everything brighter—talkative, optimistic, and a little too easy to fall in love. so when she gets paired with the quiet, unreadable park sunghoon for a college project, shes determined to break through his cold, no-nonsense attitude. at first, sunghoon barely tolerates her—short replies, dry texts, and zero interest in her constant chatter. but y/n doesnt take it personally. she keeps showing up anyway, filling the silence he leaves behind. somewhere between late-night project meetings, accidental laughter, and soft moments neither of them acknowledges, y/n realizes she’s falling for him ...(are we surprised?) buttt, what she doesnt realize is that sunghoon—who was never supposed to care—is falling even harder, and way more obviously than he’d ever admit.
contains: written parts (will be mentioned between chapters), swearing, mature jokes, angst, friendly banter, humor/crack, she fell first but he fell even HARDER, yearning hoon, jealousy, dry humor, grammar errors (ignore pls), story is set in college (all of the characters go to upenn), there lowk might be corniness if u squint, both hoon and reader are idiots but its Ok, wonyoung from ive as y/n's face claim !!
featuring: all of enha, danielle of newjeans, liz of ive, james of cortis, yeonjun of txt
synopsis: y/n runs into heeseung, her ex and the one she never really got over. what starts off awkward turns into a real conversation about why things ended—and how the feelings never actually did. they both realize it wasn’t about losing love, just bad timing, and decide to give it another chance, even if it’s uncertain.
masterlist
genre: oneshot second chance (??) romance, soft angst
contains: teensyy bit of angst, reader and heeseung have only been broken up for a year, small talk, awkwardness, reader and heeseung are NOT over each other, heavily implied they get back together but not specified in a way, no pt 2.
no plagiarism pls | hate = blocked
reblog 4 a kiss ! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎
wc: 1.4k
andra’s notes ! ❦ - heyyoo took a lil break from writing the jake fic, DONT WORRY it’s still being worked on.. (ﾒ﹏ﾒ) but lately ive been having insane writers block for that story and i was listening to olivia dean and thought of writing abt this lol anyways ENJOY this is actually my first oneshot lets Cheer !!!!
now playing… a couple minutes - olivia dean
—☆𐬺.
There are some people who never fully leave your life.
Not in the obvious way—no dramatic exits, no slammed doors, no final goodbye speeches. They just… fade into the background. Like a song you used to love that now only plays randomly, catching you off guard in grocery stores or late-night drives.
Heeseung was that kind of person for you.
Or maybe—if you were being honest—you were that person for him.
It starts up again, like most things do, with something small.
A hallway, then a shared glance.
Moments that linger for just a second too long.
But you don’t expect to see him again.
Not here, not now.
Not after.. everything.
The café door chimes softly when you push it open, a gentle bell that blends into the low hum of conversation and quiet music. It smells like coffee beans and vanilla—comforting, familiar. The kind of place you come to when you want to feel like everything in your life is under control, even if it isn’t.
You step inside, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, scanning for an empty seat.
And then—
You see him.
Heeseung sits by the window, sunlight spilling across his face like it’s always belonged there. His posture is relaxed, one arm resting on the table, fingers loosely wrapped around a coffee cup.
He looks… the same.
And not the same at all.
Older, maybe. A little sharper around the edges. But his eyes—those haven’t changed.
They’re still the kind that notice everything.
And apparently, including you.
There’s a split second where neither of you move.
Time doesn’t stop—that would be too dramatic. But it stretches. Like the moment between a breath in and a breath out.
And then he blinks.
And suddenly, it’s real.
You consider turning around.
You really do.
Pretending you didn’t see him. Walking back out the door and letting this moment dissolve into a “what if” you’ll think about later.
But your feet don’t move.
Instead, they carry you forward.
“Hey,” you say.
It comes out softer than you expect.
Heeseung sets his cup down slowly, like he needs a second to process what’s happening.
“Hey,” he replies.
God, that voice.
He sounded exactly the same too, and that was the worst part.
You stand there awkwardly for a moment, shifting your weight.
“Can I…?” you gesture to the empty seat across from him.
He nods quickly. “Yeah—yeah, of course.”
And just like that, you’re sitting across from him.
Like no time has passed.
Like everything has.
There’s a pause.
Not uncomfortable—but not easy either.
It’s filled with things unsaid, memories unspoken, questions neither of you know how to ask.
“You look good,” he says finally.
You let out a small breath, almost a laugh. “You too.”
But the truth is, he doesn’t just look good.
He looks like someone you never quite got over.
“How have you been?” he asks.
You nod, even though the answer isn’t that simple. “I've been good. Busy. You know… life, and stuff.”
He smiles slightly. “Yeah. I get that.”
Another pause.
You both take a sip of your drinks at the same time—his coffee, your iced latte you don’t even remember ordering.
It’s almost funny.
“I didn’t think I’d run into you here,” you admit suddenly.
He tilts his head a little. “I come here a lot, actually.”
You nod. “Of course you do.”
There’s something in your tone—something light, but not entirely.
He notices.
Of course he does.
“You used to hate coffee,” you add.
He lets out a quiet laugh.
“I still kinda do.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Then why—”
“I like the place,” he says, cutting you off gently.
His gaze flickers to the window, then back to you.
“…and the quiet.”
You hum softly. “That sounds like you.”
It’s small talk.
It’s safe—
But it’s also unbearable.
Because neither of you are saying what you’re actually thinking.
Like how weird it is that you’re sitting here after everything.
How there’s still something between you—something... unfinished.
How neither of you really moved on the way you said you would.
“You still live nearby?” he asks.
You shake your head. “No. I, uh, just… happened to be in the area.”
That’s not entirely true; But you don’t explain.
He nods, like he understands more than you’re saying.
There’s another pause.
Longer this time.
And then—
“Do you ever think about it?”
The question catches you off guard.
You look up. “What?”
Heeseung hesitates.
Like he’s deciding whether to take it back.
But then he doesn’t.
“Like…us.”
Your chest tightens.
It’s such a simple word.
Two letters.
But it holds so much.
You look down at your cup, tracing the condensation with your finger. “…sometimes.”
That’s was an understatement.
He nods slowly. “Yeah. Me too.”
There’s no dramatic music, no sudden realization.
Just the quiet weight of honesty settling between you.
“I always wondered,” he continues, voice softer now, “if things would’ve been different if we had more time.”
You swallow. “More time?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Like… if we weren’t always in a rush. If we didn’t feel like everything had to be figured out right away.”
You glance up at him.
His eyes are steady and serious.
“You mean... if we didn’t mess it up,” you say.
He shakes his head.
“No, no.. I don’t think we messed it up.”
You frown slightly. "We broke up, Heeseung.”
“Yeah,” he says. “But not because we didn’t care.”
You look away. “Then why?”
He exhales slowly, leaning back in his chair.
“…timing.”
Of course.
It’s always timing.
You let out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s such a cliché.”
“I know,” he says. “But it’s also true.”
You hate that he’s right.
Back then, everything felt like too much.
Too many expectations. Too many uncertainties. Too many things you couldn’t control.
You were both trying to figure out who you were. And somehow, in the process, you lost each other.
“You know, I told myself I’d get over it. Soon... eventually.” you admit quietly.
He looks at you. “Did you?”
You hesitate, then shake your head. “…no.”
Something shifts in his expression.
Not surprise.
More like… confirmation.
“Me neither,” he says.
The words hang in the air.
And suddenly, the distance between you feels a little smaller.
“You ever wonder what would happen if we tried again?” he asks.
Your heart skips.
That’s was a dangerous question.
You let out a breath. “Yeah.. I have."
Another understatement.
He leans forward slightly, resting his arms on the table.
“And?”
You meet his gaze. “And I wonder if we’d just end up in the same place.”
He nods slowly. “That’s fair.”
“But,” you add, voice softer now, “I also wonder if we wouldn’t.”
Silence.
The kind that feels like standing on the edge of something.
“I don’t want to rush it again,” he says.
You tilt your head. “Then don’t.”
He lets out a small breath, almost a laugh. “It’s not really that easy.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” he says, “I don’t trust myself not to fall back into it.”
Your heart tightens. “…into what?”
He looks at you like the answer is obvious.
“You.”
You look away.
Because that’s too much.
Too real.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” you say quietly.
“Yeah,” he replies. “But it’s not something I can do halfway.”
That makes sense.
He was never a halfway kind of person.
Neither were you.
“So what are you saying?” you ask.
He hesitates.
Then—
“I’m saying… if we do this again, I don’t want it to be another ‘almost.’”
Your chest tightens.
“I want it to be real,” he continues. “Even if it’s scary. Even if it doesn’t work out.”
You swallow hard.
It would be easier if he didn’t say things like that.
If he didn’t make it sound so simple.
So... possible.
“You’re asking for a lot,” you say.
“I know.”
“And what if we don’t have that kind of time?” you ask.
He pauses.
Then smiles slightly. “Then we take what we can get.”
Your brows furrow. “Even if it’s just… a couple minutes?”
The words hit differently. because that’s what it feels like, doesn’t it? Like all you ever had were moments.
Short, fleeting, not enough.
You look at him, really look at him.
And you realize—you don’t want just a couple minutes.
But you’d take them anyway.
“…okay,” you say softly.
He blinks. “Okay?”
You nod. “Okay.”
There’s a small pause.
Then—he smiles.
And it’s not the same smile as before.
It’s softer, more careful.
But somehow… more real.
“Okay,” he repeats.
And just like that, something starts again.
Not perfectly, not magically, but honestly.
You don’t know where it’s going. You don’t know how it’ll end.
But for now, you have this moment. And maybe that’s enough.
jay having to address people spamming “enhypen is 7” on his BIRTHDAY live was so sad. yall are inconsiderate as hell 😭😭 i get yall want heeseung back—i do too. but yall need to know when to stop at some point because clearly all the members are aware of whats going on, and they do not need yall constantly reminding them of whats happened. read the room next time, PLEASE !! jay shouldn’t have had to address that on his BIRTHDAY. we need to respect the members and heeseung’s decision.
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