[jungwonslover]

| 4POISON.2 ft. YJW

You return to Hogwarts expecting everything to feel the same — especially him. Yang Jungwon, your best friend of four years. Your constant. Until a love potion changes everything.

pairing: gryffindor!jungwon 𝓍 slytherin!femreader word count: 28k+ — series ★⋆ content: fluff ⋆ angst ⋆ eventual smut hogwarts au, love potions, jealousy, yearning, possessive!won. avoidant!reader. miscommunication. jungwon is lowk pathetic but..in a hot way. secret relationship. they're disgustingly cute. ⦸ kissing. tongue sucking. spit play. dry humping. switch!jungwon, switch!reader. dirty talk. big dick won. premature ejaculation. tit play. petnames(baby, princess, babygirl). fingerfucking. finger sucking. overstimulation. kinda condescending. oral (m+f). cum eating (f+m). face fucking? (m receiving). pussy drunk won. slight size kink. multiple rounds. light choking. bulge kink. loss of virginity (m+f). unprotected sex. creampie.

| PLAYLIST | LIBRARY | PART 1

V𓄧 helloooo!! it's the end of an era. i hope the wait was worth it❤️‍🩹and thank you soo much to miss @kissued for proof-reading!! your input was truly so helpful babygirl!

You started your morning the same way you always did, routine first, thinking later. Preferably never if you could help it. Pull the robes on, adjust your hair multiple times and mess it up again because trying too hard felt embarrassing in your current state of mind. Pause in front of the mirror longer than usual and then immediately regret it, because there’s something behind your eyes you don’t want to unpack right now.

So you looked away before you could start spiralling into one of those cruel little internal monologues about how unnatural you looked, opting to grab your things and leave instead.

But there was this dull ache sitting in your chest, quiet but persistent, like it was waiting for you to acknowledge it — and you don’t because if you don’t name it, it doesn’t get to be real. That was the system, a deeply flawed system, apparently, because despite your best efforts the ache stayed exactly where it was, tucked somewhere beneath your ribs and growing increasingly difficult to pretend wasn’t there.

The air felt heavier, like the space isn’t as easy to exist in anymore. Even the idea of sitting with your friends this morning felt strangely exhausting, and you hated that more than anything. Hated that something so normal had become something you had to think about first.

The room was already loud with morning chatter when you stepped inside, sunlight pouring through the enchanted ceiling in pale gold streaks while students crowded around long tables — balancing unfinished homework and toast. Your friends were already there, they looked up almost immediately when you approached, conversations faltering just slightly as their attention shifted toward you.

There was tension sitting there beneath everything, thin enough that nobody else would notice it, but obvious to you in the way all uncomfortable things became obvious once you were already hurting. It settled awkwardly between all of you like a conversation waiting to happen and you suddenly understood, with painful clarity, how easy it would be for someone to ask the wrong question this morning and ruin you completely.

"Morning, Y/n," a few of them said, their eyes lingering just a second too long. "Morning," you replied evenly, your voice smooth enough to pass for normal. You reached for a piece of toast, eyes flicking briefly across the table before you turned slightly like you planned on leaving immediately.

Jake frowned first, "—You're not gonna sit?" he asked. Jake knows you, he knows your way of handling things that actually hurt is by avoiding it, but he didn't know how bad it was going to get. You paused for half a second before shrugging lightly.

"No, It's a nice day," Which was objectively true, also completely irrelevant. The silence after your answer stretched just long enough to feel deliberate. You turned and started toward the entrance hall again, already feeling the weight in your chest ease slightly at the thought of escaping.

Unfortunately, the universe had apparently decided suffering built character, you made it halfway across the entrance hall before you had to slow your pace hearing footsteps. "Hey—" Jungwon stood a few feet away, slightly out of breath like he’d hurried after you without fully meaning to. His blonde hair still looked messy from sleep, collar crooked in that careless way nobody else seemed capable of making look good, and his eyes, they were already fixed on you in that open way that always made your resolve feel embarrassingly fragile.

"Hi," you said, narrowly avoiding his eyes.

"You’re not eating with us?" he asked, and there was the faintest pout pulling at his lips out of habit, so natural he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it. You glanced away, settling on the floating candles somewhere behind him instead.

"No," you answered, forcing a small smile onto your face before pressing your lips together quickly like you regretted it immediately. "I’m going for a walk." A poor attempt really, Jungwon’s brows pulled together slightly, like he noticed you were already off, despite you barely exchanging a few sentences.

"I’ll see you guys later." You added quickly, pre-emptively, before he could ask to come.

"Oh," he said softly. "Okay… bye." the words trailing as you turned and you didn’t look back. Because one glance would’ve ruined whatever pathetic amount of self-control you still had left. You would’ve seen that familiar look before he caught himself too late, and suddenly all this distance you were trying so hard to create wouldn’t make sense anymore.

So you kept walking, even when every part of you wanted to stop. You wanted to turn around, grab his sleeve like you’ve done a hundred times before, mumble something sarcastic about fresh air and have him follow without question. You wanted him next to you, matching your pace, letting the silence speak for him like he always does.

You wanted things to feel normal again and maybe that was the problem, because you’d spent so long putting other people’s feelings before your own that hurting quietly had become second nature to you. You always swallowed your emotions down before they became inconvenient. Always convinced yourself you could handle it because seeing other people uncomfortable somehow felt worse than carrying the hurt yourself. That was still true, but right now it felt too big to push down.

Behind you, Jungwon stayed standing there for another second longer than necessary. He watched as you left, there was something in his chest, something off — he didn’t reach for it. Didn’t question it, just frowned faintly as he headed inside with his mind stuck on you. He greeted the others automatically, barely registering their responses and his attention kept drifting elsewhere despite himself, replaying your expression over and over trying to figure out why something about it unsettled him so much.

He dropped his gaze to the table. People filtered out slowly after breakfast, one by one, until it was just the three of them. Jake cleared his throat loudly, "So.." Heeseung started, already watching the blonde. "Did you tell her?" Jake cut in, blunt and straight to the point.

"Dude—" Heeseung shot a look at the younger, who only shrugged. Jungwon didn’t react right away, his finger traced the rim of his glass, slowly, distracted. "No," he said finally. "I didn’t."

"Why?" they asked in unison, he exhaled, shoulders tensing slightly.

"She didn’t care," he said, eyes fixed downward on the glass. Jake leans back in his chair, staring at Jungwon like he’s just said something objectively stupid.

"You cannot actually be this stupid," he muttered, Jungwon frowned slightly.

"She told me to tell her," he says, quieter now. "You don’t tell someone to confess to someone else if you—"

"If you what?" Jake cuts in. "If you like them? Yeah, you do. All the time. It’s called being a masochist."

"That’s not—" Jungwon stops, frustrated, dragging his hand down his face. "You didn’t see her," he muttered. "She was fine." The boys looked to each-other and then back at him.

"Jungwon she clearly-" Heeseung started.

"No." The word came quick, defensive in a way he doesn’t usually get. He shook his head, sitting up slightly. "No I need to stop doing this" he let out a breath, sharper this time.

"Doing what?"

"Convincing myself that she'd feel the same." The honesty in his voice made the table fall silent, immediately he let out another sharp breath before leaning back again — exhausted already by thoughts he clearly hadn’t wanted to say out loud.

Jungwon had considered it, yes, maybe you were a little bit of a masochist and he'd seen you downplay your feelings enough times. But how the fuck could he know what's real or not anymore. For years he’d survived almost entirely on implication and hope. Now he had a choice, he could keep doing this to himself, keep taking every small thing you did and stretching meaning into it until it hurt, or he could finally accept that maybe he’d just wanted you too much to think clearly. He could finally start reading between the lines but even then, some pathetic part of him had still tried replaying your expression over and over searching for something hidden underneath it. Regret. Jealousy. Anything. Because wanting you had long since stopped feeling rational.

"I’m not bringing it up again." he said firmly. Then Heeseung glanced toward Jake briefly before speaking carefully. "Jungwon.. she doesn't even know you were under Amortentia," Heeseung said carefully.

"I know." He said quieter now, tired. "Please don’t tell her." That made them both pause because now it’s not just pride, it’s fear and if you find out, everything changes.

Heeseung studied him for a moment, something conflicted in his expression. "…We won’t," he said finally. "But only because she should hear it from you." Jake nodded once in agreement. Jungwon didn't respond, he just stared at the table, like if he stayed still enough, he wouldn’t have to choose between fixing it or losing you completely.

That first day, you avoided people, not in a dramatic way and definitely not enough for anyone to call attention to it. You still showed up where you were supposed to, still answered questions when professors called on you, still sat beside your friends during class when there weren’t enough excuses left to disappear entirely.

After breakfast, you walked instead of going straight to class. You took the longer routes through the castle automatically, choosing quieter corridors and empty staircases, slipping around crowds before they formed properly. Every decision became calculated in this quiet subconscious way you hated noticing. You’d pause briefly at intersections listening for familiar voices before turning elsewhere. Not because you were hiding, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. You just didn’t trust your ability to look at him normally right now.

Everything continued moving with the same rhythm it always had, and there was something strangely isolating about that. The world should’ve at least paused for a second out of respect for your emotional humiliation because fuck, everything is so loud.

You ended up in the library for a while, tucked into a corner table no one really used. A book open in front of you, something dense and complicated enough that it required just enough concentration to occupy your hands if not your thoughts. Your eyes moved over the words, sure, but you absorbed absolutely none of it. Your mind kept drifting, kept replaying that moment over and over like your brain was trying to fact check it.

"I think I love her." The memory hit differently every time it replayed, sometimes sharp enough to feel like a stab, other times quieter, almost numb, like your brain was trying to dull the edges for self-preservation. You blinked, forcing your attention back to the page. Right, don't think just read, you lasted maybe twenty minutes before closing the book.

You skipped lunch, not intentionally. It just, happened — you told yourself you weren’t hungry, which was half true, the other half was that you didn’t feel like sitting across from him and pretending you hadn’t heard what you heard. You kept picturing him smiling, talking about her and every single time it felt like something folding painfully inward inside your chest. Pathetic.

You’d spent years carefully avoiding this exact situation. Years making sure your feelings for him stayed manageable enough to survive if things ever went wrong. You never pushed too hard, never let yourself fully believe anything between you meant more than friendship because you knew how dangerous hope became once it rooted itself properly. So why did this hurt like you hadn’t been?

By late afternoon, you found yourself back in the Room of Requirement almost without realizing you’d gone there. The door appeared quietly against the stone wall after your third pass, opening into something emptier than before, something quieter. A curved window stretched across one side of the room overlooking distant hills washed gold beneath the late afternoon sun. There was a wooden desk nearby, shelves lined with books you wouldn’t read and a sofa tucked into the corner beneath dim lantern light.

The room felt less like comfort today and more like permission to exist somewhere without being perceived for a while. You sat by the window eventually, knees pulled slightly toward your chest as your gaze drifted absently across the landscape outside. You tried thinking about it logically instead because logic had always been easier than emotions. People fall for other people literally every day, entire populations survive this experience regularly. He likes someone else, it's fine, that’s normal and you’ll get over it… Who were you fooling.

That persistent ache that had sat there all day had only grown heavier, spreading slowly through you in ways that made concentrating impossible. You pressed your lips together tightly before dragging a hand over your face with a quiet exhale. This is so fucking stupid.

You’re not the kind of person who spirals over things like this. You didn't build entire fantasies in your head just to mourn them afterwards. You kept yourself guarded specifically to avoid ending up here — sitting alone in a magical room feeling devastated over something that technically was never yours to lose in the first place. You’d imagined it all. Had to have because otherwise none of this made sense. You let out a breath and stood, not giving yourself more time to sit in it.

The Great Hall was loud, plates clinking, chatter. Someone a few seats down was laughing entirely too hard at something that objectively could not have been that funny. Everything felt alive in that messy, ordinary way Hogwarts always did at the end of the day. You hated how disconnected from it you felt. You slipped into the empty seat beside Jake, movements automatic, almost rehearsed at this point. He glanced at you the second you sat down, concern flickering across his face before he tried covering it with something lighter. "Hey," he said, nudging your shoulder gently with his own.

"Hi," You gave him a small smile in return, quick enough to miss if someone wasn’t paying attention.

"You okay?" he asked, head tilting like he was about to run diagnostics on you.

"Mm." you nodded, your attention shifted elsewhere, fingers wrapping around your glass of water mostly just to avoid looking directly at him. You could feel the weight of observation today, everyone glancing too carefully around you like they were trying not to step on something fragile.

You lifted the glass to your lips slowly, eyes drifting absently across the room over the rim until they caught on Jungwon almost by accident. He was already looking at you, not subtly either, there was something behind his eyes that looked like it ached. You didn’t acknowledge it and just started eating. Around you, conversation moved naturally enough, your gaze eventually wandering again until it landed somewhere across the hall.

Penelope, she was watching Jungwon. Not the way people usually watched attractive boys from across rooms at parties or meals or gatherings, there was hesitation in it, like she was actively debating whether to walk over to him right now, whether to cross that space between them. You could see it, that slight shift forward, that pause. Your chest lurched uncomfortably, so you stood a few seconds later and muttered your goodbyes, barely waiting for a response as you walked.

"I’m gonna go," you muttered quickly, barely hearing Jake call after you as you turned away from the table, because suddenly you could picture it too clearly. Her walking over, him smiling with that same smile you thought was yours. You left faster than you meant to, like if you don’t, something would catch up to you, a voice, a hand on your wrist — your own stupid instinct to stay.

The corridors blurred slightly as you walked, your pace quick and uneven while the noise of the Great Hall faded further behind you. Cold air drifted through open archways as the evening settled outside the castle windows, painting the stone floors in dim blue grey light.

You found yourself at that same abandoned classroom and sat on the stone steps despite the cold, exhaling slowly. There’s something in your heart that just won’t settle, worse now — like it’s pressing against you it, asking to be acknowledged. Footsteps echoed softly behind you not long after and you had to physically suppress a sigh.

"Hey, Y/n." Beomgyu said gently. You glanced toward him briefly as he approached before sitting beside you carefully, leaving enough space between you that it didn’t feel suffocating.

"Hi," you replied quietly. He paused, studying your face, "Are you alright," The question came carefully, like he already knew the answer and was asking anyway just in case you wanted to be honest.

"I’m fine," you said, too quickly but he didn’t call you out on it. Instead he leaned back slightly against the wall beside you and nodded once.

"We don’t have to talk about it," he said instead. It made something loosen, just slightly because he didn’t push or probe, where they immediately started trying to solve it or force it open like your feelings were some sort of problem needing repair.

You breathed in slowly, though the inhale caught unevenly halfway through. Was it really that obvious?

Silence settled between you not an awkward silence, just the kind that didn’t ask anything from you but unfortunately, quiet left too much room to think.

The way Jungwon looked at her, not the way he looked at you when he was teasing you softly or trying to figure out what you were thinking without asking outright. This had been different, it was certain as though he knew without hesitation that it was her.

With you, there was always something just under the surface. Something unsaid, but there. You felt it. You know you did, you didn’t imagine that. Right? Your fingers curl slightly into your sleeves. You could handle jealousy, honestly, you could — it was ugly and humiliating, but manageable. It was the other part, the part where something in you rearranges itself around the idea that maybe you misunderstood everything.

Jungwon, on the other hand, was losing his mind. He didn’t know what to do. All day, you’d been just out of reach, not gone but not there either and it didn’t make sense. In four years, you had barely left each other’s sides. It had never been something either of you questioned, it was just how things were, until now. Now every hallway felt too empty whenever you weren’t in it and the more distance you put between yourself and him, the more aware he became of how much space you actually occupied in his life.

By evening, the restlessness inside him had sharpened into something unbearable. He needed to talk to you, he needed to explain — even if he didn’t fully know how. Because somewhere between the potion wearing off and watching you avoid him all day, Jungwon had started realizing something terrifyingly simple. Losing you felt worse than embarrassing himself ever could. But even if he walked into it telling himself he wouldn’t say it, he knew it wouldn't last, because the truth was if you looked at him the way you always did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. So when he saw you again later that evening, he stopped walking immediately.

You were sitting with Beomgyu. Not close, not leaning in, you weren’t laughing or touching his arm or doing anything that would make people question it. There was space between you, intentional — noticeable if you knew what to look for. It was wasn't anything anyone else would look twice at but to him, it was loud, because you didn’t let people sit like that with you. Not in that quiet, unguarded way. Beomgyu wasn’t filling the silence nervously or trying to pull reactions out of you. He was just sitting there beside you while you stared ahead quietly and you were letting him.

That kind of stillness, that kind of ease was something you reserved. Something he thought, stupidly, had always been his. He stood there in the hall for way longer than he should have, watching something small and quiet and completely non-dramatic feel like it was tearing something open inside him and the realization settled in. You weren’t just pulling away. You were letting someone else in.

It didn’t fix itself the next day, or the day after that. If anything, it settled — into something quieter, more permanent. It sat behind every conversation, every glance across the room, every moment your brain instinctively searched for him before remembering why it shouldn’t.

You kept moving through your days exactly the way you always had because if you stopped long enough to properly examine what was happening to you, you might actually have to admit how badly this affected you, and frankly you refused to become the kind of person who unravelled over a boy. Especially not in a castle full of emotionally observant adults with absolutely nothing better to do than romanticize other people’s suffering.

You arrive just late enough that there’s no space beside him anymore, slipping into whatever seat is open without comment. If there is space, you take it — never close enough for your shoulders to brush, never the easy proximity you used to fall into without thinking and the second conversations started thinning out, the second things became quieter and more intimate and dangerous, you left first.

"Anyway, I’ve got something to do," becomes your exit line, like it means nothing, like he means nothing. Which is almost funny, because you’ve built your entire day around not being alone with him.

Kenny doesn’t bring it up right away. She had this deeply concerning habit of collecting emotional evidence silently before confronting people with it like some sort of terrifyingly perceptive prosecutor. You almost made it through dinner, and then.. "Hey," she says, stepping into your path just enough that you have to stop.

"Walk with me." It’s not really a question. You hesitate, just for a second like maybe if you wait long enough, this won’t happen. "..Okay."

She walks beside you in silence for a while, matching your pace easily, hands tucked into the sleeves of her jumper. It’s usually comfortable, the kind of quiet you don’t have to work for but today, it feels almost watched. "You’re doing that thing again," she says finally, you don’t look at her. "What thing?"

"The pretending nothing’s wrong thing." You let out a small breath, almost amused.

"I’m not pretending." Kenny hums, unconvinced. "Right." A few steps pass.

"You know you’re allowed to be upset," she adds, softer this time.

"I’m not upset," you say, automatically.

"You are," she replies just as quickly. "You’re just… being weird about it." That makes you glance at her, a slight frown pulling at your brows.

"I’m not being weird."

"You left breakfast, lunch, and dinner early yesterday," she lists. "You’ve been dodging eye contact like it’s going to kill you, and you literally turned around and walked the other way when Jungwon came down the corridor earlier."

"…I had somewhere to be." Even you don’t believe that, Kenny stops walking and you take two more steps before realizing and turning back, sighing slightly. "What?" She just looks at you.

"We established you like him," she says plainly. It twists your stomach more than it should and you look away almost immediately, shaking your head.

"It doesn’t matter."

"That’s not what I said."

"It’s the same thing,” you mutter.

"No, it’s not," she pushes. "You can like someone and still admit it sucks when they like someone else." You cross your arms loosely, more to have something to do than anything else.

"He doesn’t like someone else," you say, quieter now. "He’s in love with her." you add, like it costs you nothing.

"Did he actually say that?" You don’t answer, because yeah he did and worse — you heard it, and saw it.

"I just don’t get it," she says after a moment. "Everything was fine. You two were—" she gestures vaguely between you, searching for words that apparently didn’t exist. "Whatever that is."

"Friends," you say quickly, Kenny gives you a look so unimpressed it almost made you laugh. "Friends don’t look at each other like that." A humourless breath escaped you. "Apparently they do."

She nudges your shoulder lightly. "You’re allowed to be a little dramatic about this, you know."

"I don’t think I’d survive being dramatic right now."

"Fair." She pauses, "But you also don’t get to pretend it didn’t hurt,"

"I’m not pretending," you say. "I just— don’t want to make it a bigger thing than it already is."

Kenny tilts her head. "It already is a big thing, you just won’t look at it." You swallow and look away, at the brick, the portraits, anything else, she watches you for a moment longer, then sighs quietly.

"Just… don’t shut him out completely," she says. "Whatever happened, he’s still him."

That almost makes you laugh because that’s the problem, he's still the person you default to. Still the one your brain looks for in every room before you can stop it. "Yeah," you say finally, voice quieter than before.

Your eyes dropped briefly to the floor, "That’s exactly why I have to."

Jungwon saw it, obviously, not immediately or all at once, but in fragments. The way your replies have gotten shorter. The way you don’t reach for him anymore, not even absentmindedly, the way your attention no longer defaults to him.

You used to reach for him constantly without thinking about it. Tugging lightly on his sleeve when you wanted his attention while pretending you didn’t care whether he looked at you or not. Brushing past him in crowded corridors without hesitation. Shoulders knocking together casually like his space belonged to you as much as your own did. Leaning closer during conversations until your knee pressed against his under tables.

Now every movement around him feels considered first and somehow that hurts more than if you’d just started avoiding him outright. Because he catches the almosts. The split second moments where your body moves automatically before your brain catches up. When your hand lifts slightly toward his sleeve before stopping midway and dropping back to your side instead or when you start stepping closer to him while talking before correcting yourself subtly, shifting your weight away at the last second like you suddenly remembered something important.

You’re aware of your closeness to him in a way you never used to be before, and maybe worse than the distance itself is the fact that he can tell you’re thinking about it too.

Not to mention the silence. God, the silence. It used to be his favourite thing — sitting beside you without needing to speak, knowing you were there, that it was enough. But now if silence did settle between you both for too long, you leave before it can fully form, like being alone with him in stillness has become dangerous somehow. Maybe it has, he doesn’t know anymore.

By the third day, it’s unbearable. In a constant, gnawing that doesn’t let him focus on anything else. He catches himself looking for you automatically before remembering you’ve started making sure he can’t reach you properly anymore.

He tells himself to leave it. That if you wanted to talk, you would’ve and that maybe you just need space, and pushing you will only make it worse. He repeats it enough times it should start sounding logical, but not enough to settle the panic growing in his chest every time you avoid looking at him directly.

After class that afternoon, the group settled into one of the common areas near the courtyard, conversations messy in the familiar way they always become when everyone’s exhausted and avoiding assignments together. You’re already there by the time Jungwon arrives, tucked casually into a seat beside Kenny while Jake and Ni-ki argue loudly about some Quidditch match like they’re discussing a professional league.

You tilt your head like you’re listening, drop in a quiet, "That’s not even how that works," and it lands, Jake laughs, Ni-ki protests, it’s easy. You smile, and it looks real enough that no one calls it out. Which is almost funny, because you’re not here at all.

You’re hovering somewhere just outside yourself, aware of everything except what’s being said, because what you are aware of is him. The way Jungwon hasn’t stopped looking at you, not in passing but staring, like he’s trying to figure you out all over again.

He leans forward slightly every time you speak, like your voice still pulls him in automatically, like he’s waiting for something more, something you’re not giving him anymore. You pick at the edge of your sleeve, thumb rubbing over the fabric again and again, grounding yourself in something small, repetitive. "…Y/n?" Kenny nudges you lightly.

You blink, "Hm?"

"We’re talking about whether Ni-ki would survive playing against professionals," she says slowly, like she’s checking if you’re actually present.

"Oh," you nod, forcing yourself to engage. "No, he’d get destroyed."

"Oi—" Ni-ki starts immediately, he starts complaining while the group laughs around him, and you huff out a quiet laugh too, automatic and just believable enough to blend in with everyone else.

Across from you, Jungwon’s jaw tightens just slightly, subtle enough that no one else would clock it, but you know him, and even without looking properly you can feel it.

From where he’s sitting, it doesn’t look like you’re hurt, it looks like you don’t care. Like whatever you heard, whatever you think you know about him and Penelope, it didn’t matter enough to actually affect you and that stings more than he expected, because if you cared even a little, wouldn’t you react differently?

Instead you just left, over and over again — as if he’s easy to walk away from. Before he fully decides to, he leans forward again, elbows resting against his knees as his eyes settle directly on you, fixed on you in a way that makes it impossible to ignore. "Y/n."

You hate that you look up before you can stop yourself and the second your eyes meet his, it hits harder than you expect because he doesn’t look indifferent, he looks frustrated and confused, a little hurt and underneath it holds that same softness that’s always been there when he looks at you. "Yeah?" you say.

Jungwon holds your gaze for a second longer than necessary before speaking again. "…Can I talk to you for a second?" The question sounds casual on the surface, but there’s too much weight underneath it to mistake this for something meaningless. Your stomach drops anyway, because this is it, this is the conversation you’ve been dodging, the one where he says something you don’t want to hear. Where maybe he says her name again and you have to stand there and take it like it doesn’t ruin you a little.

You feel Kenny shift beside you, feel the way the table quiets just slightly. Jake stops moving entirely, Heeseung leans back slightly with the exhausted expression of someone realizing a disaster he predicted has finally arrived. And Ni-ki? That guys lost. Not a clue in the world.

"About?" you ask instead. It throws him and you saw it, the way he blinks for half a second because you’ve never made him work this hard just to talk to you.

"Just.. to talk," he says quieter this time, and something about the sincerity in his voice almost weakens your resolve completely. You tilt your head slightly like you’re considering it carefully, forcing your expression into something neutral enough to survive this. Like this isn't killing you.

"Yeah, later," you say, a soft no dressed up as a maybe. Then before he can respond, before you can lose your nerve and agree just because he’s looking at you like that, you stand and grab your things. "Anyway, I’ve got something to do." There it is again. Jungwon’s jaw tightens visibly this time as he watches you move away from the table.

You don’t look at him, not once. "See you guys." And then you’re gone, disappearing down the corridor before anyone can stop you, leaving Jungwon sitting there with the same awful question looping endlessly through his head for the third day straight. Why does it feel like you don’t care at all?

The silence you leave behind is deafening. The kind that settles over a group slowly enough for everyone to notice at different times, conversations dying unevenly until all that’s left is the sound of chairs shifting and someone tapping their fingers awkwardly against the table. For a second, nobody says anything, Ni-ki’s the first one to break, his eyes flick between the corridor and Jungwon before his brows pull together slightly. "Did you piss her off or something?"

Kenny's staring straight at Jungwon now, eyes sharp, assessing, because she’s been watching this build for days. She’s been filling in the blanks with the only version she has, that he told you he’s in love with someone else, and that's only explanation she’s been working with this entire time.

Heeseung stays quiet beside him, arms folded loosely across his chest, but his attention is fixed on Jungwon in a way that feels far too deliberate to be casual, Jake notices it too immediately. The two of them exchange a look that lasts barely half a second, but it’s enough and now they’re watching the consequences unfold in real time, knowing exactly where it went wrong. 

And Jungwon doesn’t answer straight away. He’s still looking at the door, like if he stares long enough you might walk back through it and undo the last thirty seconds. Something restless and frustrated bubbled under his skin, because nothing about this is lining up the way it should.

"…I didn’t do anything," he mutters finally, but it’s hollow, even to his own ears.

Jake lets out a short breath through his nose. "Yeah, that’s kind of the problem."

Kenny’s head snaps toward him. "What does that mean?"

Heeseung glances at Jake once, a silent warning, but Jake doesn’t look away from Jungwon. He hesitates, just for a second, then leans back — rubbing the back of his neck. "It means doing nothing is also doing something."

Jungwon drags a hand down his face, frustration starting to bleed through properly now because everyone in this room keeps acting like he missed something obvious, like there’s a conversation happening around him that he somehow wasn’t invited to.

"That makes literally zero sense," Ni-ki cuts in, frowning. "Can someone speak in normal sentences?"

Kenny ignores him, eyes still locked on Jungwon. "You told her something," she says flatly. Jungwon finally looks at her, something defensive flickering in his expression. "I didn’t—"

"She told me you said you’re in love with Penelope" she cuts in immediately, Ni-ki’s brows shoot up. "Wait— what?"

Jungwon’s expression hardens instantly, frustration flashing sharp now. "That’s not—"

"Then why would she think that?" Kenny presses without backing down. There’s something protective underneath her voice now, something simmering with irritation on your behalf. "She wouldn't just make that up."

Jake exhales slowly, glancing at Heeseung again. This is the point where either they explain or this keeps spiralling until everyone ends up miserable, Heeseung tilts his head once in silent agreement. Jake looks back at Kenny, voice dropping just enough to shift the tone. "Because what she heard wasn’t real." Kenny frowns immediately, "What does that mean?"

Jake hesitates for half a second longer before finally saying it. "Penelope slipped him Amortentia at the party." They sit there, hanging, like the room needs a second to catch up.

Ni-ki blinks, "She what?"

Kenny doesn’t react immediately — her expression goes completely still, like her brain is rejecting the information before it can fully settle. "That’s not funny."

"It’s not a joke," Heeseung says quietly.

Kenny’s gaze shifts back to Jungwon, slower now, recalculating everything she thought she knew. "So when you said—”

"I wasn’t in my right mind," Jungwon cuts in, sharper than he means to. His hands drag through his hair again, restless. "I didn’t even know what I was saying."

Ni-ki lets out a disbelieving noise, "That’s actually insane."

Jake huffs, "Yeah, tell me about it."

Kenny’s still looking at Jungwon, but now there’s something else in it, not just suspicion, something closer to realization. "She doesn’t know that, does she?"

Jungwon doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. She exhales softly, something almost sympathetic flickering through her expression now. "She thinks it was real," Kenny says, quieter now. "She thinks you meant it."

Jungwon’s jaw tightens again, because yeah. Jake leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees. "And from her side? You said it, clear as day and you couldn't correct it after. And you didn't explain, so what was she supposed to think?"

Jungwon’s frustration spikes. "I tried to talk to her."

"No," Heeseung says calmly, "you waited for her to come to you." That shuts him up.

Jungwon goes quiet, leaning back, staring at the ceiling like it might give him a better answer than anyone in this room. His chest feels tight in a way he doesn’t like, because now it’s not just confusion, it’s clarity.

You heard him say he loved someone else and instead of fighting him on it, instead of demanding answers or getting angry or making him explain himself, you just quietly stepped away from him piece by piece. Like he wasn't worth the argument.

"Why didn’t she say anything?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "If it mattered, why didn’t she just—"

"Because that’s not how she works," Kenny cuts in, softer now but firm. "She doesn’t fight for people she thinks she’s already lost."

He drags a hand over his face, slower this time. "If it actually mattered," he mutters, voice quieter now, "she would’ve said something. She would’ve— I don’t know been upset, or angry. Anything."

Jake’s head tilts slightly, watching him carefully. Heeseung’s expression shifts too, something almost pitying flashing across his face for a second, because that’s where Jungwon’s wrong. "She doesn’t care," Jungwon adds, more to himself than anyone else, like he’s trying to settle on it, trying to make it make sense. Kenny’s brows pull together immediately. "You actually think that?"

Jake looked like he wanted to say something else, probably something annoyingly insightful that Jungwon absolutely did not have the emotional capacity for right now, but Jungwon was already pushing himself up from the sofa before anyone could stop him.

"Where are you going?" Jake asked immediately.

Jungwon hesitated near the doorway for the briefest second. "I don’t know."

But apparently his body did because less than twenty minutes later, Jungwon caught sight of you just outside the courtyard near the covered archways leading toward the Astronomy Tower, where the stone path narrowed enough that avoiding him would take effort obvious enough to feel cruel. It isn’t planned, not really.. at least that’s what he tells himself.

"Y/n." You stop immediately because pretending not to hear him now would say too much. The corridor is quieter here, evening light filtering weakly through the tall windows and stretching long shadows across the stone floor. Somewhere further outside, rain taps softly against the courtyard fountains.

"Yeah?" you ask, and the casualness of it irritates him instantly because he knows you too well to believe it’s genuine.

"I—" he starts, then falters, something unfamiliar catching in his chest. "Can we just talk?" Your expression doesn’t change but there’s something in your eyes, something distant. Your eyes flicker over him, then settle somewhere just past his shoulder. "About what?" you ask.

That question should not be difficult to answer, instead it completely derails him. Because there’s too many versions of this conversation rotting in his head at once, and none of them feel safe enough to say aloud. The truth feels messy and unfinished and dangerously fragile, like if he explains it wrong he’ll lose whatever still exists between you permanently.

Just… us," he settles on. Your gaze flickers at that, just slightly,

"There’s nothing to talk about," you say and you mean it, or at least, you’re trying to.

"Yes, there is," he insists, taking a step closer. "You’ve been weird with me this whole week."

"I've been acting weird?" The response comes sharp and immediate, slipping out before you can soften it, and the silence afterwards lands hard between you both.

Jungwon stares at you, searching your face almost desperately now for something familiar, something that tells him this hasn’t become as bad as it feels. "I didn’t mean—" he starts.

"You did," you cut in.

"I don’t even know what happened," he says, frustration bleeding through now because none of this feels fixable anymore and he doesn’t understand why exactly everything between you changed. "You barely look at me anymore."

"Seriously?" you scoff, looking up to the archway as though it can save you.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" he asks.

"It means you don’t get to act confused now," you say, your composure slipping slightly. "Not after the shit you said."

Jungwon drags a hand through his hair roughly, agitation building under his skin because every version of this conversation keeps collapsing before he can explain himself properly. "I didn’t—" he stops again, "I don’t even know if I meant it." The second it leaves his mouth, he regrets it.

Your laugh comes out quiet and edged enough to sting. "That’s worse."

His expression tightens. "How is that worse?"

"Because at least if you meant it, it would’ve been real," you say, finally looking at him fully. And fuck, he wishes you hadn’t because now he can see it, — the hurt sitting under everything else. "—But now it’s just… what? Something you’re unsure about? Something you can backtrack because it got awkward afterwards?"

"That’s not what I'm doing—"

"You told me you were in love with her," you interrupt, steadier than you feel. "You looked me dead in the face and said it like it was obvious. Like you’d known for ages and I was just the last person catching up"

"I thought I was sure," he says, quieter now.

"Great," you nod, another silence drops between you both, sharper this time. You fold your arms tighter across yourself, trying desperately to hold onto the control slipping through your fingers because this conversation is going exactly where you didn’t want it to.

Jungwon exhales hard through his nose, pacing half a step before turning back toward you again, "You told me tell her." he says.

You nod once, and exhale "Yeah."

"No, listen to me," he shakes his head, stepping closer again, urgency creeping in. "That’s what you told me I should do."

"Because you like her," you say, your voice finally tightening. "What was I supposed to do? Stop you?"

"Maybe," The word comes out before he can filter it. Your stomach drops so suddenly it almost makes you angry and he sees it, the way your eyes widen just slightly before something else replaces it. "Maybe I wanted you to," he adds quietly. Rain taps steadily against the windows somewhere behind you while your brain scrambles desperately for solid ground because no part of this conversation is safe anymore. You stared at him for a second too long, and in that time it feels like something might finally open between you. But then you shake your head, taking a small step back.

"You don’t get to say that now."

"Why not?" his voice lifts, frustration breaking through. "Why can’t I?" he furrows his brows, looking between your eyes.

"Because you didn’t say it then!" you snap, control slipping hard enough that your voice echoes slightly down the corridor. "You said you loved her. You don’t get to come back now and act like I got it wrong when you spent days letting me think you meant every word."

"I was messed up," he says, the words coming out harsher than intended.

"Messed up?" you repeat. He hesitates, just for a second but it’s enough. Your expression shifts — something closing off completely. "Right," you say, nodding slowly. "Of course."

"That’s not what I meant—"

"No, it is," you cut him off, your voice flattening. "You didn’t mean it. You were confused, it doesn't count"

"That’s not—"

"Then what is it?" you ask, finally looking at him again, something raw breaking through. "Because from where I’m standing, you said something you can’t take back and now you’re upset I believed you." He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, because the real explanation sits lodged somewhere behind his teeth alongside every other thing he’s spent years not saying to you. Things dangerous enough that once he says them aloud, there’s no pretending anymore — and the terrifying part is he still has absolutely no idea whether you’d feel the same way or just stare at him politely before destroying him completely.

So instead, he reaches for the only thing he can. "You heard one thing and disappeared," he says, stepping closer again despite the tension radiating off you now. "You didn’t ask me anything. Didn’t even give me a chance to explain properly."

"A chance to explain what exactly?" you ask quietly. "That I somehow hallucinated the conversation?"

"That’s not what I said." he says glancing away for a moment.

"Oh, sorry," you laugh bitterly. "Did I misinterpret the part where you said you were in love with her?"

The anger in Jungwon finally breaks through. "You don’t get it," Jungwon says finally, dragging frustrated hands through his hair again. "You’ve been acting like I’m some random guy you accidentally shared a table with for the past week and it’s doing my fucking head in." he snaps, voice roughening. "You won’t even look at me anymore."

Your throat tightens painfully because the worst part is he’s right. Every horrible inch of distance between you. For a second both of you just stand there breathing too hard in the narrow corridor, years of almosts and swallowed words sitting heavily between you while rain crashes endlessly outside.

"I was trying to make this easier."

"Well it’s not." he replies instantly. You stare at him, then look away first, eyes drifting toward the water beyond the arches because suddenly the pressure in your chest feels unbearable.

"I don’t know what you want from me," you say quietly.

Jungwon huffs once under his breath, frustrated and exhausted all at once. "That’s the problem, isn’t it?" he mutters. "You never even considered there might’ve been something worth asking me about."

Your head snaps back toward him immediately. "You don’t get to do that," you say immediately, anger flaring hot now because it feels like he’s rewriting this entire situation in front of you. "You do not get to stand there acting like I’m the one who handled this badly when you’re the person who said all of that in the first place."

"I wasn't thinking straight."

"And I was supposed to magically know that?" The words crack out of you harder than intended and Jungwon falls silent immediately. "You don’t get to blame me,"you continue, voice unsteady despite your efforts to control it. "You spent days watching me pull away and didn’t say a word."

"I tried talking to you."

You cut in instantly. "No, you waited for me to come to you first." That one has him exhaling, shakily — because he knows you’re right. Outside distant thunder rolls low somewhere beyond the grounds while the corridor fills with the sound of both of your harsh breathing.

"I’m trying to—"

"I don’t need you to fix it," you say, quieter now. "I’ve already adjusted." He falters, like the words physically knock something out of him. Adjusted, like what you had is something you’ve already started letting go of.

You freeze for a second too, glancing away like it hurt you just as much to say it and the worst part is you didn’t even mean to sound cruel. You just needed him to understand that he doesn’t get to ask for you back now, after spending days pulling yourself apart trying to move around this.

"You don’t mean that," he says, but there’s less certainty in it now. You don’t answer right away and somehow that silence hurts him more than if you had.

"I have to go," you say finally.

Of course you do. You always do but this time when you step around him, he doesn’t stop you. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because for the first time, he’s not sure you’d stay even if he tried. And you don’t look back, because if you do, you’ll see it — the way he’s looking at you like he’s losing something he doesn’t understand.

Behind you, Jungwon stands frozen beneath the archway, jaw tight enough to hurt while thoughts crash violently through his head all at once. I should've told her. About how wrong everything felt that night. About why he even asked you to go out there in the first place. What he was actually going to say.

Now he’s left standing there with every important thing still trapped inside him, watching your figure disappear slowly down the corridor.

It settles for long enough that the distance between you to feel more permanent than either of you want to admit. It follows him around for hours like a headache sitting behind his eyes, dull at first and then suddenly sharp whenever his brain replays your face in that corridor, the look you gave him right before you left, exhausted and angry and so fucking done with him.

The corridor outside the Potions classroom sat mostly empty now, quieter than usual with students already filtering toward dinner. Torchlight flickered against the stone walls, shadows stretching long across the floor while rain hammered softly against the high windows near the staircase. Jungwon stood with his back against the wall beside Jake and Heeseung, jaw tight enough to ache, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat because if they weren’t there, he’d probably start pacing.

Heeseung looked calm in the way people do when they’re trying very hard not to lose their temper. Jake wasn’t bothering to hide his irritation at all, arms folded tightly while his foot tapped against the floor in uneven bursts. None of them were speaking anymore because everything worth saying had already been said three times over. Then Penelope turned the corner.

She slowed the second she saw them standing there waiting, though she recovered quickly enough to fake confidence again, expression smoothing over as she approached with that same polished composure that suddenly made Jungwon feel vaguely sick. "Well," she said lightly, glancing between the three of them, "this looks cheerful."

No one smiled back, Jungwon pushed himself off the wall before he really thought about it, eyes fixed on her in a way that immediately made her smile falter. "You drugged me." There wasn’t even anger in his voice at first which somehow made it worse. Just blunt, exhausted certainty dropped between them hard enough that the corridor seemed to narrow around it.

Penelope blinked once, then laughed under her breath like she genuinely couldn’t believe he was serious. "Right," she said slowly, crossing her arms, "and you came to that conclusion on your own?"

"You used the Amortentia from class," Heeseung cut in before Jungwon could answer, voice level and controlled. "Snuck some from the batch."

Penelope didn’t look at him immediately. She kept her eyes on Jungwon, as if she could manipulate the situation with her eyes. Her eyes flicked toward him briefly before returning to Jungwon again, calculating now, trying to figure out exactly how much they knew. "That doesn’t mean I poisoned anyone."

Jake let out a sharp humourless laugh. "You’re actually gonna stand there and call it poisoning like that somehow sounds less mental?"

"Nothing happened that wouldn’t have happened eventually." That got Jungwon moving before either of the others could react.

One step forward, close enough now that the air between them turned tense immediately. "Don’t," he said quietly, anger finally starting to seep through. "Don’t do that thing where you try to make this sound normal."

Penelope lifted her chin defensively. "You were happy."

"No, I wasn’t." he retorted immediately,

"You seemed pretty convinced at the party."

"That wasn’t me." Her expression shifted then, irritation replacing whatever performance she’d been attempting before. "Oh, please," she snapped. "You can’t blame every stupid thing you said on a potion just because it embarrassed you afterwards."

Jake swore under his breath while Heeseung’s posture stiffened beside him, but Jungwon barely reacted. If anything, he just looked more tired. "You don’t get it," he said flatly. "You don’t even understand what you actually did."

Penelope scoffed quietly, though there was something less certain underneath it now. "I didn’t force words into your mouth."

"No," Jungwon replied immediately, "you just messed with my head enough that I couldn’t tell what was real." Silence cracked briefly between them before she looked away first and there was a tiny flicker of guilt she couldn’t quite hide quickly enough.

Jungwon saw it immediately and something inside him finally snapped properly into anger, because suddenly all he could think about was you standing there on that balcony, listening to him say things he never should’ve said, watching you in real time while he stood there too far gone to realise what was happening.

"You dragged her into it," he said, voice rougher now. "You knew exactly what you were doing." Penelope’s eyes narrowed. "I didn’t do anything to her."

"Except let her think I meant all of it." he snaps.

"She heard one conversation," Penelope shot back defensively. "If your relationship falls apart that easily, maybe it wasn’t that solid to begin with."

Jake stepped forward at that, furious now, "Careful."

"You’re all acting like I committed murder because he fancied someone else for five minutes." she continued, anger spilling over now that she realised nobody here was buying the innocent act anymore.

"I didn’t fancy you. I don't even like you as a person," Jungwon said immediately, the speed of it landed harder than shouting would have.

Penelope went completely still, something genuinely angry flashed across her face then. Hurt too, buried underneath it. "Right," she laughed bitterly. "And let me guess, this is all because of Y/n." He didn’t answer quickly enough.

"Oh my god," she breathed, looking at him like she’d finally solved something. "You’re actually pathetic."

Jake swore again while Heeseung muttered, "Penelope—"

"No, seriously,” she interrupted sharply, looking back at Jungwon now with open disbelief. “You spent years following her around like some lovesick idiot and she still didn’t want you, so now suddenly this is all my fault?"

Jungwon’s expression darkened instantly. "Don’t talk about her."

"Why?" she snapped. "She’s clearly not interested. She heard you say you liked someone else and walked away without even fighting for you." That was the part still sitting under his ribs making him feel half sick all week.

"You don’t know a fucking thing about her," he said, quieter now, though somehow angrier for it.

Penelope scoffed softly. "Please. If she actually wanted you, she would’ve done something." Something cold flashed across his face then.

Jungwon stared at her for a second too long then laughed softly under his breath, "Yeah?" he said flatly. "Well at least she didn’t need to spike my drink to get me to pay attention to her."

Penelope opened her mouth again but footsteps echoed sharply down the corridor before she could answer. The kind that immediately changes the atmosphere of a room. Everyone looked up. A professor stood at the far end of the hall flanked by two Ministry officials, unreadable beneath the torchlight. Penelope’s face drained almost instantly.

"Miss Clearwater," Professor Park said calmly. "You’ll come with us." Her composure cracked properly then. "Are you serious?" she demanded, looking between them all. "You reported me?"

"It’s done," Heeseung said simply, shrugging.

"You can’t be serious," she said, her voice tightening. "It was one potion, one mistake—"

"It was manipulation," Jake snapped back. "What part of that isn’t clicking for you?"

"This is insane," she said, voice rising now as panic finally started replacing anger. "Nothing even happened." By the time Penelope was led away down the corridor, protesting angrily the entire time, Jungwon was barely paying attention. He just stood there staring at the floor, chest tight with the awful realisation that the hardest part of this was never going to be the potion. It was you believing him.

By the time evening rolled around, the argument had calcified into something heavier than frustration. It wasn’t just about what happened anymore. It was the fact that neither of you had managed to fix it. Every conversation somehow made things worse, like the two of you had spent years learning each other perfectly only to suddenly start speaking completely different languages.

Jungwon found you after that and this time it wasn’t accidental. The Room of Requirement gave him away the second the door opened, warm light spilling out into the corridor. Bookshelves climbed all the way to the ceiling, candles flickering low between stacked piles of parchment and half-open novels, the entire place carrying that quiet stillness it only ever seemed to have when you were in it. It looked exactly the same as it always had, painfully familiar.

And there you were, curled into the corner of the sofa with a book in your lap like none of it had happened. You didn’t look up when he came in, just turned a page slowly and said, quiet but flat, "I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk."

"I know," he said, shutting the door anyway. He stayed where he was for a moment, shoulders tense, clearly trying to hold onto whatever speech he’d planned before it completely fell apart on him. The silence between you wasn’t familiar anymore. It felt stiff now, crowded with too much pride and too many things neither of you had said when you should’ve.

Eventually he exhaled hard through his nose and looked at you properly. "I need you to actually listen to me this time Y/n." You let out a breath, eyes still on your book.

"I mean it."

That finally made you glance up properly and the irritation sitting on your tongue faltered slightly because he looked awful. His blonde hair was tussled in the way that it is when he's stressed, his habit of ruffling the front of his hair showing. He looked worn-down in that way people got when they were running entirely on nerves. You sighed, folding the corner of your page over before setting the book aside. "Alright," you muttered, "Talk."

He crossed the room slowly, cautious in a way you’d never seen from him before. "What I said that night…" He stopped halfway through, jaw clenching. "It wasn’t real."

Your face barely moved. "If this is your attempt at damage control, you're a bit late."

"I was drugged." The rain outside started hitting harder against the windows and for a second all you could hear was that. You stared at him for a second, waiting for the backtrack, the part where he admitted he was exaggerating because surely he didn’t actually mean— "Amortentia," he said quietly, and the way he said it made it impossible to dismiss.

Your face went still in that dangerous sort of way where he couldn’t tell what you were thinking anymore. "What?"

"She slipped it into my drink at the party." His voice dipped, "Heeseung and Jake figured it out after.. they reported her earlier" You looked away from him then because your brain suddenly felt too full, the last week rearranging itself in ugly sharp pieces. "What— Why didn’t you tell me straight away?"

"I tried." he shot back immediately, "Every time I saw you, you were halfway out the door." He dragged a hand through his hair before exhaling through his nose. "And then I saw you with Beomgyu and I just—" He stopped, eyes shutting for a second like the memory physically pressed down on him. "I felt so fucking angry."

Beomgyu?" confusion cut clean through the exhaustion in your voice. "The way he was sitting with you," Jungwon muttered, frustration bleeding back into his voice now that he’d started. "The way you looked comfortable with him."

"Jungwon. Nothing’s happening with Beomgyu." you said, still entirely lost on why this matters.

"I know that now." he said it immediately, but there was still irritation buried underneath it, stubborn and lingering.

"No, you clearly don't because you’re still saying it like he committed some sort of crime by existing near me." He huffed through his nose before he nodded once.

"Alright. Maybe I lost my head a bit."

"A bit?"

"And that doesn’t mean I enjoyed watching him sit where I used to."

The words came out before he could soften them and your stomach turned despite yourself. "You don’t get to say things like that after everything that happened."

"I know." he spoke, barely above a whisper. "I know it doesn’t suddenly fix anything. I’m not pretending it does."

"Then why are you here?" you asked, finally looking at him properly again. "Why tell me now?"

His eyes met yours instantly. "Because you think I chose someone else. For a moment you could barely process the words, because he couldn't mean it like that. God, hope needs to die.

"..And you didn’t?" you finally replied, voice unwontedly soft.

"No." he says immediately, certain in a way he hadn’t sounded once this entire week. "I never liked her. Not before that night, not after. Whatever you heard, it wasn’t me," You watched him carefully, searching his face for the part where he might pull back, make it less direct. He didn’t.

"And me?" you asked before you could fight it. That was a question he didn't expect, he suddenly looked exhausted — like he'd spent days fighting himself. "You’ve always been different."

You rolled your eyes immediately, leaning back into the sofa. "That is such a shit answer."

A quiet breath escaped him, almost humourless. "I didn’t say anything because I thought you didn’t care." His gaze dropped briefly before finding yours again. "You literally told me to go tell someone else how I felt, Y/n. What exactly was I supposed to take from that?"

You laughed once under your breath, bitter and disbelieving. "What was I meant to do? You stood there talking about being in love with her."

"I thought you didn’t care." he repeated.

"I cared too much, actually." Both of you froze. Your jaw clenched, "Don’t," you started immediately, shaking your head a fraction.

"No." He stepped closer again, something desperate creeping into his voice now. "Please, don’t take that back, that’s the first real thing either of us has said in days," You looked away quickly, pulse suddenly too loud in your ears.

"You really thought I didn't care?" you asked eventually.

"You stopped looking at me." He breathed, "You pulled away like it was easy. Like I was embarrassing you."

Your face twisted immediately, "Easy?" you repeated sharply. "You think that was easy?" You stood up too fast, anger finally cracking through properly.

"I spent the entire week avoiding you because every time I looked at you I heard you saying her name again, and I couldn’t stand there pretending it didn’t bother me."

"Y/n—"

"No, seriously, do you know how humiliating that felt?" Your voice shook despite your best efforts. "You told me that she lived in your head," You scrunched your nose slightly, expression tightening like the words physically pained you to say, "I can't—"

For a second neither of you spoke, the room suddenly felt too small for the amount of tension sitting between you both. Then he stepped close enough that you instinctively sat back down and lowered himself in front of you, kneeling while he looked up at you properly.

"Look at me," he said gently, and you didn’t, not straight away anyway. Your eyes stayed fixed on your hands, stubbornly avoiding him. Eventually, against your better judgement, you lifted your face to his and there it was again. That look. Warm and steady and devastatingly familiar, like no matter how badly the two of you had handled this, he would still look at you like you were the first thing he searched for in every room. And that was the worst part really, not the argument, not her. It was this, the way your body still reacted to him before your pride could catch up.

He searched your face, "The things I said that night, about someone living in my head all the time?"

"None of that was fake."

And then just as that familiar pain was about to settle, "I just had the wrong name in my mouth." And for a moment your eyes bored into each of his as it settled. Jungwon watched the realization move across your face carefully.

"I was so confused after," he admitted, voice low. "Because the feelings were real. They were always real.. I just didn’t understand why saying her name felt so wrong."

The irritation you’d been clinging to was barely holding together, unravelling thread by thread underneath something dangerous. He was still kneeling in front of you as though hadn’t even noticed, eyes fixed up on your face with this unbearable amount of care written all over him, like your reaction mattered more than his own embarrassment, more than his pride.

Jungwon was now fully ignoring the fact his knees had probably gone numb, too focused on you despite the fact your entire face was practically screaming what the fuck is happening right now.

"The stupidest part is I genuinely thought none of it mattered to you." he continued. "We’d sit practically on top of each other for hours and then you’d casually call me your best friend like that wasn’t completely destroying my ability to think straight." He glanced away briefly, words coming easier now that he’d started. "You’d play with my rings when you were tired, steal my jumpers, look for me first in every room and somehow I still convinced myself I’d imagined all of it."

"Do you know what actually messed me up?" he said eyes not leaving yours for a second. "Even after all this, after the argument and all the avoiding and how angry you were with me, the only thing I could think the entire time was that I just wanted you back beside me again." Jungwon shifts slightly closer without fully standing, still grounded in front of you, then hesitates like he’s debating something, before finally lifting a hand slowly, stopping just short of your face, waiting for any sign you’d move away. Your eyes flickered to it instinctively and your stomach twisted painfully at how careful he was being with you now.

You don’t move away and that seems to decide it for him more than anything else. His palm settles carefully against your cheek, warm and steady. Your lips parted a little, leaning into his touch — barely, but he felt it. His hand shifts, the other coming up too now, gently cupping your face properly this time, both hands holding you now.

"I’m not good at this," he mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself now more than you, "I’ve spent years not saying anything because I thought if I did, it would ruin whatever this was, whatever we are, and I thought I could live with that."

He leans in a fraction more, not enough to touch your forehead, not quite, but close enough that your breathing stills because suddenly there’s no pretending there’s distance left. His eyes studied your face, slower now, more deliberate, you could feel the warmth from his face.

"But I can’t," he says, just something raw and undeniable sitting underneath every word.

"I can’t do it anymore because I’m completely in love with you, and I have been for ages."

For a second he just looks at you like he’s bracing for impact, like he’s expecting you to step away, to laugh, to tell him he’s completely misread everything the same way you’ve both been misreading everything for years but you don’t move, you can't. Your eyes stay fixed on his almost helplessly, searching his face for something that looks uncertain or unsure, some indication that he doesn’t fully mean it. But there's nothing, just him — completely terrifying in his sincerity.

"And I know that probably changes everything," he adds, "but I couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t exist, not after almost losing you." His forehead finally rests against yours then, just barely, and the contact is so gentle. His gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes almost immediately, like he couldn't help it. Yang Jungwon — who moves through most things with quiet confidence, who always seemed so composed, so certain.. looks so genuinely scared right now.

"Say something," he whispers, not demanding, or pushing, just honest in the way that hurts. Your fingers twitch once in your lap before you finally lift one hand, not pushing him off, just catching his wrist lightly, grounding yourself in something solid because your head won’t stop spinning properly.

"Jungwon…" you start, then stop, your voice catching before you can force the rest out, like your thoughts can’t decide which one of them to turn into words first.

Jungwon doesn’t move back. If anything, he leans in more, eyes searching yours carefully now as though was already preparing himself for rejection anyway — despite not pushing him away. "I’m not expecting anything," he says quietly "I just needed you to know."

Your thumb brushes lightly against his wrist. "You’re an idiot," you say, and it comes out shakier than you mean it to, his brows pull together slightly, confused, already pulling back a fraction like he’s misread you again, "Right, yeah, I thought that might—"

"I’m in love with you," you cut in, quieter this time. He stays locked on you, unblinking, as though he’s waiting for you to finish the sentence properly. His hands are just hovering in place like he’s suddenly unsure if he’s allowed to keep holding you at all.

"What?" he says, but it barely makes it out of him, more breath than voice.

"I said—" your voice wavers, softer this time but steadier in its honesty, "I’m in love with you." you catch his hands and guide them properly against your cheeks instead of letting them hover uncertainly. There’s a pause where disbelief breaks through into his face, then something underneath it that looks almost helpless.

Then he leans in — careful, almost hesitant and his forehead finally presses against yours properly. "Fuck," he mutters, but there’s no conviction in it — just awe, like he’s overwhelmed by how real you are. A laugh slips out of you, because he sounds so completely undone it almost feels unfair.

"You’re actually going to ruin me." His hands finally shift, holding you comfortably now.

"You’re so dramatic," you whisper, but there’s no bite to it. His eyes open again at that, still too close, still pressed to yours in a way that makes the rest of the world felt like it's been turned down to nothing.

"Yeah," he murmurs, "But you still look at me like that anyway." Your brows pull together slightly, instinctively defensive, but it doesn’t really land because your hand is now curled in his shirt and you’re still not moving away.

"Like what?" you ask, quieter — pretending you don't know exactly what he's talking about.

"Like you notice things," he says, softer. "Even when you don’t say them out loud." That hits something uncomfortably accurate. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," you murmur, which is a lie, and you both know it. He hums faintly like he doesn’t believe you, but there’s no pressure in it, just affection spilling over the edges of him in a way he’s not even trying to hide anymore.

"I love the way you go quiet when you’re thinking too much," he continues, "And I love the way you always act like you don’t care," he adds, a quiet exhale slipping through his words like he’s smiling a little at the memory of it. "Like you’re completely unaffected by everything, but then you’ll sit there for five minutes staring at something like it’s the most important thing in the world."

His thumb brushes lightly against your wrist where he’s still holding you, slow and absentminded. "And I love the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching."

Your lips part slightly, like you mean to respond, like you mean to deflect it the way you usually would, turn it into something smaller, something safer but nothing comes out cleanly enough to save you.

So it just breaks, "I love you so fucking much." It spills out of you before your brain can negotiate with it, far too honest to take back. His eyes glaze over and then he shifts forward on his knees, barely even thinking about it, like the distance between you has become physically unbearable.

His thumb presses into your jaw and then he pulls you in. His lips press against yours and it's consuming, with an urgency that had you feeling weak. Your fingers tighten in his shirt and that’s all it takes. "I love you. So much" he breathes between kisses. There’s something almost pathetic in how desperately relieved he feels.

"Mm," You tilt your head and the kiss deepens. He exhales into it and the sound of it makes your grip shift, a hand sliding into his hair. A small, broken sound slips out of him, almost stunned, he leans into you anyway, forehead dipping slightly — like he’s trying to be closer than is physically reasonable.

"Fucking hell," he breathes against your lips, your stomach flips violently at the sound.

"You have no idea," he murmurs softly between kisses, almost dazed, "what you do to me."

You smile into the kiss and when you both finally pull back just enough to inhale properly, neither of you really lets go. Your foreheads rest together, noses brushing slightly, his hands still holding you. And then you do it again — soft, quick kisses against his lips. It was careless in a way that feels completely unlike how careful everything has been between you until now. He actually freezes for a second, then laughs, so familiar it made your chest ache.

"You’re so…" he starts, trailing off with another disbelieving laugh as you kiss him again before he can finish properly. "So what?" you murmur against his lips. "Mine," he says softly. You can’t help the quiet laugh that escapes you, despite the raging tricks your stomach was playing.

Then, after a second, quieter now, "Can I sit with you?.. My knees are actually killing me."

You laughed despite yourself, "You’re unbelievable."

"Yeah, yeah." he grins, you shift on the sofa, making space.

"Get up here before you pass out or something." He doesn’t need to be told twice and moves fast for someone who just complained about his knees, sliding up beside you. The second he sits, his shoulder bumps yours gently — accidental or not, neither of you acknowledges it.

"There," he says quietly. His leg is pressed lightly against yours, warm and solid, and it’s embarrassing how quickly your body relaxes around him now that you’re finally letting it. There’s a beat of silence before his hand shifted slightly against the sofa cushion between you. Then his pinky brushed yours, you looked down at it once and thread your fingers through his properly.

You couldn’t help but think, god I’d go through all of that again, as long as I end up here. Jungwon seemed to realize it at the exact same time because the second you settled beside him properly, he exhaled through his nose like he’d finally stopped bracing for something.

You then let your head fall onto his shoulder, the movement slow and unceremonious "You're not let off completely though," you muttered, voice muffled slightly against him.

"I know." he says, his own head resting on top of yours.

"And I’m still angry."

"You should be," he said without hesitation, just quiet acceptance as his shoulder shifted slightly under you to get more comfortable with you, adjusting himself to make sure you stayed there.

"And you might suffer for a while." you add, quieter now. Fully aware he probably wouldn't.

"Okay." he said simply. You lifted your head just enough to look at him properly, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

"That was a bit too easy."

He huffed a small laugh through his nose, the corner of his mouth tugging upward as he glanced at you like you were the most predictable thing in the world. "I’m choosing my battles carefully." That made you smile properly and Jungwon looked genuinely relieved by it.

The rain ran down the window behind you as Jungwon turned to you — his hand came up, landing on the base of your shoulder. "Hi," he said as you turned to face him properly, catching the glimmer of something playful.

"What now?" you huff, attempting to look annoyed, it clearly wasn't convincing judging by his lips curving in retaliation. His hand slides up, below your jaw now.

"Can I kiss you..again," he asked, grinning now. You pressed your lips together, pretending to think about it. "Hmm."

A dramatic groan left him immediately, his forehead falling against yours. "You’re evil."

You laughed softly under your breath and before he could complain again, you nudged his head forward slightly, pressing your lips to his yourself. The kiss barely lasted a second before he smiled into it, warm and helplessly fond.

"Right," he murmurs against your mouth, "that’s definitely up there with my favourite answers you’ve given tonight."

You hum against his lips, smiling when he immediately kisses you deeper like he’s been waiting for the smallest bit of encouragement. One of his hands stays warm against your jaw while the other settles carefully at your waist, hesitant for all of half a second and then pulling you closer against him.

The sound he makes when you shift halfway onto his lap is somewhere between surprise and relief, and it nearly makes you laugh again. "Don’t laugh at me," he mumbles instantly.

"You make it pretty easy."

"Yeah?" The curve of his nose brushes yours briefly before he kisses you again, slower this time. Your fingers slide into his hair at that and he exhales sharply into your mouth, grip tightening at your waist. The reaction goes straight to your head. "Jungwon," you whisper, mostly because you like what it does to him.

His eyes flicker open for a second at the sound of his name "You're doing that on purpose," you tilt your head in response. Every touch feels careful and greedy at the same time. The rain was still tapping softly against the windows somewhere in the background, but it all felt far away compared to the warmth of him pressed against you.

His thumb strokes absentmindedly against your side beneath the fabric of your top. The kiss deepens naturally after that, unhurried and messy in the way kisses that have been delayed for years usually are. Every time you pull back for air he chases instinctively.

You laugh softly, breathless, but the sound cuts off when his lips find your jaw instead. The shift is slower this time, deliberate. Your breath catches almost instantly when he kisses just below your ear, warm and lingering enough to make your fingers tighten in his hair. "There," he says quietly against your skin, "That one got you."

"Shut up," you whisper, though there’s no real bite to it when you pull him back up by the collar to kiss him again. You tilted your head, letting your tongue graze the seam of his lips. You swallowed a high needy noise, opening up immediately. He pulled you into his lap fully now — lips still attached as you settled against him properly, arms steadying themselves against his shoulders and sliding around his neck.

Your tongue slid against his messily and then he pulled back, breathing hard. "Still okay?" he whispers. You respond with a nod taking in Jungwon's eyes, which were blackened with desire

"Words Y/n," he grins tilting your chin up, you couldn't help the heat that flood into your stomach, "Yeah— yes I'm okay,"

His grin widened as though he knew what was going through your mind and then he chased your lips again, catching you in an open mouthed kiss — trying to memorise your mouth in a way he couldn't before. His hand creeped into your hair, fingers curling in. He bobbed his head forward, capturing your tongue and sucking on it with a low groan. You gasped, eyes scrunching together as a involuntary moan slipped out of you. Jungwon's breath hitched hard, panting now, "God I've fucking dreamt of how you'd sound," He pushed his head into the crook of your neck, "This is so much better."

"Better be," you managed, fingers running through his hair slowly.

"Let me stay here," he starts pressing kisses to your neck, taking in your scent — your taste.

"Mmm tempting Won," you said tilting your head back.

"I missed that so fucking much," he groans. You tried to respond, you did, but you couldn't because his lips were dragging up your neck, wet and desperate. "Shit," you breathed, shivering.

You lay your hands flat on his chest and push him back against the sofa. He lets himself fall back against the sofa without resistance, like he trusts you completely to take the lead, his hands instinctively tightening at your sides as you follow him down. Chest to chest.

You falter for a second as if you’re both realizing, at the same time, how far this has gone. His blackened eyes flick between your now swollen lips, and your eyes. He breathed out, harsh — revelling in the fact that he's the reason your lips are flushed and shiny with spit.

Then an almost frightening thought slipped into his head, sudden enough that it made him hesitate halfway through speaking. "Have you ever…" he started, then stopped abruptly, like he already regretted asking. You looked at him for a second, brows pulling together slightly as you tried to place where his brain had just gone.

"What?" you asked. His eyes flickered away briefly before returning to yours again, visibly trying to decide whether to commit to the question or bury himself alive instead.

"Have you ever—" he stopped again, jaw tightening faintly. "Like… with anyone…"

"Fucked anyone or kissed anyone?" you asked flatly, fingers tracing his jaw. Jungwon nearly choked on his own breath, but you were completely calm despite the way his entire face shifted into instant embarrassment.

A disbelieving laugh escaped him despite himself, one hand dragging down his face briefly before he looked at you again, visibly trying to recover. "You know what, never mind."

"No," you said immediately, sitting up on him slightly, now that you’d caught onto the fact he was genuinely nervous. "You asked. Commit."

"I just—" he stopped again, visibly frustrated with himself now. "I don’t know, I started thinking about it and then I realized I actually have no idea if there’s been someone else."

The honesty of it knocked some of the teasing right out of your face. Fuck, Jungwon looked unfairly sincere when he was jealous. "I mean, obviously there could’ve been," he continued quickly, words speeding up now. "You’re—you, and I wasn’t exactly doing anything, so it’s not like you owed me—"

"There wasn’t," you interrupted softly, cupping his jaw now.

"There… wasn’t?" he repeated carefully. You shook your head once and his shoulders visibly loosened. The relief that crossed his face was so immediate and unfiltered it. "Thank fuck," he breathed before he could stop himself. You stared at him, eyebrows lifting. "You don’t understand," he said immediately, catching your stare. He sat up slightly, pulling you up with him like this was extremely serious now. "I was about thirty seconds away from ruining my own night imagining some random guy kissing you, or even touching you." You let out a quiet scoff through your nose, but your face warmed anyway.

"If I'm honest," you started, already regretting the vulnerability halfway through it, "I felt sick thinking about whether or not you'd end up in her room," your voice got quieter near the end, eyes fixed somewhere near his shoulder instead of his face despite how close he was sitting. You missed the way his whole face changed, he genuinely looked wounded by the thought of you sitting with that alone.

"Y/n," he said almost pained. You shrugged one shoulder slightly, pretending it didn’t matter nearly as much as it did. "It’s embarrassing now, actually."

"No," he said immediately, firm enough to make you look at him again. "No, don’t do that. I need you to understand something," he says, serious in a way that steadies the entire room around you.

"There was never going to be another person for me once I met you."

You blink at him slowly. "That— is a crazy thing to say to someone." by now the butterflies erupting in your belly were normal.

"It’s true." He actually smiles then, hopelessly, like even your avoidance is something he treasures.

"You’re cute when you’re overwhelmed," he murmurs, your eyes narrow instantly.

"Don’t piss me off again."

His smile widened immediately, completely unafraid now. "See? Cute."

"Jungwon you’re about five seconds away from being shoved off this sofa."

"You wouldn’t do that," he said easily, leaning closer anyway. You opened your mouth to argue but he kissed you before you could, arms wrapping around your waist. "So fucking annoying," you mumble against his lips,

"Mhmm, yeah?" he grins.

A loud crack of thunder suddenly echoed somewhere outside the castle walls, the sound rattling faintly through the windows of the common room a second before rain started hammering hard against the glass. You glanced toward it instinctively. "It’s pouring." Jungwon barely looked up, still half-sprawled into your space. "Mm," he murmured, completely unbothered, thumb absentmindedly tracing slow circles against your knuckles.

Another rumble of thunder followed, louder this time. You exhaled through your nose, leaning back slightly against the sofa cushions as your gaze flicked toward the clock mounted near the fireplace.

"It’s late," you muttered. "Everyone's probably asleep already" Jungwon's mood immediately soured.

"You’re joking." You shook your head a little, starting to shift your weight as if to stand. "I’m serious."

"No, you’re not," he said instantly, tightening his grip on your hand when you shifted slightly like you might stand.

"Jungwon—" A laugh escaped you. "No," he whined quietly, forehead falling against your shoulder dramatically. "I don’t wanna move yet."

"You’re acting like I’m not gonna exist tomorrow."

"I'll miss you" he mumbled into your shoulder immediately, completely shameless about it. You rolled your eyes, though your fingers automatically slipped into his hair again. He visibly relaxed at the feeling. "I just got you back," he continued, voice quieter now, almost pouty despite how ridiculous he sounded. "Can’t we stay here for like… another hour."

"Won, it’s nearly midnight."

"So?" he said instantly. You laughed under your breath and tilted your head enough to look at him properly.

"You're clingy."

Another crack of thunder echoed outside and Jungwon sighed before finally lifting his head. "…Fine," he muttered unhappily.

He stands up with you still in his arms, the sudden movement making you instinctively tighten your hold around his neck. "Jungwonn—" you huff into his shoulder. He just giggles, the sound soft and breathy, pulling his head back to look at you properly. There’s something bright in his eyes, something you wished you could see every time you opened your eyes.

Without much thought, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, still a little dazed. "What?" he murmurs, far too innocent for the way his hands are still holding you close. You narrow your eyes, "Put me down."

"Don’t wanna," he shrugs lightly.

You let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. "You’re so annoying."

He just laughs again, clearly pleased with himself, before finally lowering you back onto your feet. You both pause and glance at each other and then you both laugh. Quiet at first, then a little louder, the kind of laugh that spills out when something feels almost unreal.

"We don’t have to rush anything," he says after a moment, searching your face, "but I’m not… pretending that didn’t happen either."

"Good," you say, barely above a breath. That earns you the smallest smile — not smug, not teasing. His fingers curl a little into yours.

"What do we do about them?" you asked, more to yourself than him, something almost bashful tugged at the corners of Jungwon's mouth despite the way he was still holding you close.

"I don’t really want to share you yet," he admits quietly, the faintest pout appearing like he was slightly embarrassed.

"Then let’s keep it to ourselves for now," you say. The relief on his face was immediate, the idea of this being something private between the two of you mattered more to him than he expected.

His arms snaked around you slightly before he leaned in again, stealing another kiss like he genuinely couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without one now. "You realise," you mumbled against his lips, trying and failing to sound unaffected, "everyone’s going to figure it out eventually."

"Mhm." He kissed you again, entirely unbothered. "Future problem."

"You’re very relaxed for someone who just said he didn’t wanna share."

"I don’t," he said immediately, pulling back just enough to look at you properly again. "But hiding you and keeping you close aren’t the same thing" Your heartbeat betrayed you immediately and, judging by the tiny smile tugging at his mouth afterwards, he knew it.

"C'mon," you said pulling him towards the door. It’s reluctant. His hand slips from your waist slower than it should, fingers brushing yours one last time before letting go.

By the time you finally left the Room of Requirement, your lips still felt warm. Which was a problem, a massive one, actually, because Jungwon looked even worse. His hair was a mess from your hands, mouth pink and slightly swollen, melted in a way that would immediately get him interrogated if anyone saw him. Every so often the corridor would flicker with distant lightning, briefly carving both of your shadows into sharper versions of yourselves before letting them soften again.

As you reached your dorms he stopped you, a gentle hand on your wrist "Don’t take forever," he said, though it lacked any real bite.

You gave him a look that tried for annoyance and failed somewhere halfway. "Get inside."

"I am getting inside," he grinned, but he still didn’t move right away. That earned him a quiet exhale from you, something almost like a laugh, before you finally stepped back and slipped inside, the door closing softly behind you.

You immediately bee-lined for the mirror, "Shit." you definitely looked kissed. You pressed cold hands to your cheeks, trying to ignore how warm your skin still felt. Your hair looked equally suspicious, slightly mussed from his hands, and there was absolutely no hiding whatever was settling over your face.

Outside, you could faintly hear the distant hum of the castle settling into sleep. But underneath all of it, there was still him — lingering at the edge of your thoughts the same way he had been all evening, like he hadn’t quite stopped being near you just because a door had closed between you.

When you finally pulled on something a bit more comfortable, you rested your hands briefly at the edge of your desk, exhaling a little more slowly than before. Within the last day you’d gone from moping, avoiding your best friend, to confessing, to kissing him, and now you were standing in your room trying to make your face look normal enough to walk into a his dorm like nothing had happened. The worst part was that your body still felt like it hadn’t caught up with your decisions yet.

By the time you made your way down the corridor, you were actively rehearsing neutrality. Their dorm door already had voices spilling through it before you even opened it properly. Jake’s laugh came first, loud and unfiltered, followed by Heeseung saying something that sounded like he was trying to sound serious but failing halfway through. Ni-ki’s voice cut in after that, flatter and more observant. Of course they were awake.

It all felt so normal for a second it almost made you forget you were about to walk in carrying something that felt like it had weight. You adjusted your expression once more, like that would somehow make you harder to read, and pushed the door open. It smelled faintly like coffee and whatever food Jake had apparently forced everyone into eating at midnight again.

Jungwon was sitting on the arm of the sofa like he always did, one arm draped lazily over the back. Something shifted in his face before he smoothed it away — a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, he was fighting a smile he absolutely should not be having in front of people, and then he looked away again, too casually, like nothing at all had just passed between you. You, on the other hand, made a point of not looking at him too long at all.

You forced your face into that something neutral you'd been rehearsing and walked in further, closing the door behind you with a soft click that felt way too loud. All of them looked up almost at once and there was a half-second of silence that did not feel accidental.

"Oh, Y/n," Jake said first, squinting slightly with a grin. "You’re up?" You nodded once, carefully closing the door behind you.

"Yeah. Couldn’t sleep."

Heeseung hummed softly from where he was stretched across the other end of the sofa, one eyebrow lifting just slightly as he looked between you and Jungwon with a level of perception that felt actively threatening to your well-being. You suddenly became hyper aware of the fact Jungwon had gone unnaturally silent.

Ni-ki was lying half upside-down across the rug, but he glanced up briefly. "Thought you were still mad at him." he said as you settled down between Jungwon and Jake.

You shrugged one shoulder, forcing yourself getting comfortable, like your pulse wasn’t suddenly trying to kill you. "I’m capable of being civil."

At that, Jungwon coughed suddenly into his fist, poorly disguising what was very obviously the beginning of a smile. Jake’s eyes narrowed immediately, he didn’t say anything yet, but you physically watched suspicion enter his body. Heeseung looked between the two of you slowly. "You guys are weird," he said casually, you took this as a sign he was letting it go, the relief that flood through you was almost embarrassing.

"Thank you," Jungwon replied dryly before you could. You turned toward him automatically, already prepared to glare at him for making this harder than it needed to be, but the second his eyes met yours, something in him melted before he could hide it, it was so genuine that your stomach dropped straight through the floor.

And the worst part was that he realised it too. His gaze flicked downward almost instantly afterwards, jaw tightening faintly as he reached for the drink sitting beside him like suddenly becoming very interested in literally anything else might save him but Jake was looking between you both again.

“…Okay,” Jake said after a beat, suspicious in a way that made your skin prickle.

"What?" you replied flatly, crossing one leg over the other.

He pointed vaguely between the two of you like he was trying to physically grab hold of a thought before it escaped him. "Something happened."

"Nothing happened," you said immediately. At the exact same time Jungwon said, "What are you talking about?" The silence afterwards was catastrophic, it had Ni-ki actually sitting up — Jake’s mouth fell open in genuine disbelief as he looked between the two of you again.

"That was bad,"

You closed your eyes briefly, beside you, Heeseung let out a quiet breath through his nose, not quite laughing yet but visibly close to it. "You two used to lie better than this."

"We’re not lying," Jungwon said quickly, finally looking up again, though the slight tension in his shoulders completely ruined the effect. Jake pointed at him immediately. "Why do you sound nervous?"

"I don’t sound nervous." Ni-ki was openly staring now, gaze moving slowly between you both with growing fascination. "Wait, are you guys secretly fine again?"

Jake’s expression softened first. "You guys actually talked?" he said, slower. Your eyes flicked briefly toward Jungwon before you could stop yourself.

"Yeah," you admitted finally, voice calmer now. "We did." The room quieted properly after that, Heeseung leaned back slightly against the arm of the sofa, studying both of you carefully now, and you knew instantly what he was really asking. Whether the damage sitting underneath all of this had finally been dragged out into the open instead of festering quietly the way it had been the last few days.

Jake looked between you both again before exhaling dramatically, shoulders dropping in visible relief. "Thank god," he muttered. "You two were making everyone deeply uncomfortable."

"That sounds like a you problem," you replied with the fainest hint of a grin, "It was bad." Ni-ki cut in, now fully invested. "Every time someone mentioned you he’d go all quiet and weird for like ten minutes after."

Across the room, Jungwon groaned immediately. "Can we not."

Jake ignored him completely. "And you were terrifying."

"I was keeping to myself." You said flatly. "Exactly," Jake said, like that proved his point perfectly. "That’s how we knew it was serious." Still, you could feel Jungwon relaxing now that the interrogation had mostly passed, though every so often your eyes would accidentally meet again and you’d have to look away immediately before Jake started screaming.

At one point, while Heeseung was distracted arguing with Ni-ki about something stupid, Jungwon glanced toward you again over the rim of his drink. This time, he smiled properly, it was small — a dimple barely peeking through and then, like he physically couldn’t help himself, his foot nudged lightly against yours underneath the coffee table. You didn’t react outwardly but your heartbeat immediately lost all structural integrity anyway.

The first couple days felt strangely unreal, the two of you had slipped sideways into a version of your lives that looked exactly the same from the outside while quietly changing everything underneath it. You learned very quickly that Jungwon had absolutely no concept of subtlety when it came to you, and it wasn't even intentional — that was the problem.

He reached for you without thinking and he'd smile before he could stop himself whenever you walked into a room, like his body had developed some involuntary response to your existence. The first morning after everything, you’d barely made it halfway into Potions before catching him already looking at you from across the table with this annoyingly cute grin that had you wanting to pull him close and kiss his stupid face off.

But instead you kicked his shin under the desk and the blonde looked genuinely confused for a full three seconds before realisation hit him all at once, followed immediately by the smallest, guiltiest smile imaginable.

After that, it became pattern… for a few days. Late-night walks through quieter corridors after everyone else had gone to sleep. Jungwon appearing beside you in the library like he’d "accidentally" ended up there despite very obviously following you. Your fingers brushing under tables during study sessions when nobody was looking. Sitting slightly too close whenever you thought you could get away with it and then immediately shifting apart whenever Jake narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The secrecy itself should’ve been exhausting, instead, it became something strangely addictive.

There was something dangerously intimate about it, about the constant awareness of him even in crowded rooms, the tiny hidden smiles exchanged over everyone else’s heads, the feeling of his hand briefly finding yours behind the cover of someone else’s conversation. You started understanding very quickly why people lost their minds over this kind of thing.

It also didn’t help that Jungwon was completely gone for you in a way that was becoming increasingly difficult to manage privately.

By the second night, you were in his dorm after a lot of whining from Jungwon about how unbearable the boys had been the night before. Thankfully, the dorm was quieter this time. Most of the lights in the corridor had already dimmed, and when you slipped down the hallway there were no muffled voices behind the doors, no laughter, no sign that anyone else was still awake. You barely even had time to raise your hand before Jungwon opened the door immediately, like he’d been standing there waiting for the sound of your footsteps specifically.

"Hi," you whispered, already smiling despite yourself. His answering smile was smaller, almost disbelieving in that way he still got around you now, "Hi," he murmured back, and then his hand caught yours before you’d even stepped fully inside. The door had barely clicked shut behind you when he pulled you toward him properly.

Jungwon’s hands slid immediately to your waist, guiding you backwards until your shoulders touched lightly against the door, and then he pulled you into him. The force of it startled a quiet breath out of you, because he shoved his head into your neck. His hands tightening slightly against your sides when you hugged him back instantly, and the reaction he had was a soft sound escaping him as he leaned closer, like he genuinely couldn’t help it.

"Missed me?" you whispered, lips curling against his head.

He pulled back to look at you properly. "Bad," his hair was still slightly damp from showering earlier, soft under your fingers when your hand slid into it automatically, and he reacted to that too. His forehead pressed briefly against yours as he exhaled shakily through his nose. It was honestly ridiculous how responsive he was to you now that he’d stopped pretending not to be.

"You have no idea what today was like," he muttered quietly, breathe warm against your lips. "Jake kept asking me why I looked happy."

A laugh slipped out of you. "And?"

"And I almost told him to mind his business." His hands slid slightly higher against your waist, "I hated not being able to touch you." he added. You felt your face warm immediately, which unfortunately only seemed to encourage him further. "There it is again," he murmured, visibly delighted.

"Shut up." He grinned properly at that, leaning in just enough to press a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth, and then resting his forehead against yours. For a second he just stayed there, forehead still pressed to yours, eyes flicking down to your mouth and then back up again like he was weighing something quietly in his head.

Then he kissed you properly this time. It wasn’t rushed, it was slow enough that it felt deliberate, like he was checking what was allowed and what wasn’t yet. His hand slid up slightly at your back, steadying you more out of habit than urgency, and he paused for a split second like he was waiting to see if you’d pull away. You only leaned further into him, so he kissed you again, a little easier this time. When he finally pulled back, it was only by a fraction, his lips ghosting yours and his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your side like he’d forgotten he was even doing it.

The room around you stayed dim and warm, lit only by the small lamp near his desk, rain still tapping faintly against the windows outside. Jungwon looked at you for another long moment before something softer crossed his face, almost sleepy.

"Come here," he muttered.

You barely had time to react before he was already pulling you away from the door, fingers still hooked loosely around your wrist as he pulled you toward his bed. He sat first and pulled you down with him without much ceremony, one arm sliding automatically around your waist like it had already memorised the shape of you there. A laugh escaped you at the sheer determination of it, but it dissolved quickly when he looked up at you again. Jungwon leaned back properly against the pillows, his arm tightening slightly around your middle once you finally gave in and tucked yourself against him fully. The moment you did, something in him visibly changed, tension he’d been carrying all day finally loosening as he exhaled slowly. "You’ve been like that all day," he said after a moment, voice softer now, almost accusing in the gentlest way.

"Like what?"

"Distant," he continues, like the word annoyed him. "Acting like I don't exist."

"Won, we're literally hiding."

"I know," he replied, but his hand tightened slightly at your waist anyway, because he didn’t care how reasonable that sounded. "Make it up to me?" he said again, quieter this time, but the grin on his face gave him away completely as his eyes flicked down to your lips like that was the only answer he was actually interested in.

"How?" you asked tilting your head.

"Don’t act like you don’t know," he murmured, and there was something almost amused in it.

"I don’t," coming out weaker than you intended. It's quieter in a way that betrays you, even in the dim light. "Liar," he mutters — even then, there was no real accusation in it.

You didn’t bother to argue with him. In the short, insignificant seconds that followed, your hands are ran up Jungwon’s chest with urgency — leaning in close, and kissing him. His breath caught instantly against your mouth, a small involuntary sound slipping out of him, like he hadn’t expected you to actually give in that easily. When you pulled back just enough to speak, your lips still brushing his, you murmured, "Maybe."

He hummed chasing your lips, deepening it almost immediately, lips parting yours with an ease he didn't have yesterday. His tongue licked into your mouth slowly, hands settling at your hips as his fingers pressed just enough to keep you closer without being rough, yours slid up into the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. He let out a low sound against your mouth, somewhere between relief and frustration and it had your thighs squeezing together, because fuck this was chipping away at your self control, and barely anything had happened.

Jungwon's restraint however, was hanging on by a thread because the moment he felt your thighs close he felt his brain begin to melt. "Y/n I can't—" he breathed, hands cupping your jaw, if only to keep you glued to his lips.

"What—" you started, but then Jungwon whined. Actually fucking whined dragging his face to your cheek. His body jerked forward, just a little. He had been impossibly hard for a while now, despite swearing he hadn't thought about anything crazy — but somewhere between your hands in his hair and your tongue..

The sound startled a quiet laugh out of you before you could stop it, completely unaware of what had happened. He groaned embarrassed at that, one arm wrapping around your waist. It only made you more aware of him pressed against you now, warm and solid and very obviously stiff in a way that had heat flooding between your legs.

That's also when you realised that he had just cum in his pants, untouched. "Oh," you breathed before you could stop yourself. Jungwon immediately buried his face deeper into your neck.

"I'm—sorry, fuck. I didn't mean to—you're just so fucking—hot," he mumbled, almost attempting to move back, but you kept him there.

"Look at me." you said, running a soothing hand over the back of his head. He hesitated and pressed deeper for a moment, and then pulled his head back. His cheeks were flushed, hair messed up in a way only he could pull off. His glassy eyes found yours after a moment, so afraid of what he'd find.

"You're not mad?" he mumbled. He looked so fucking cute and worried and for a moment you couldn't help kissing him, "No Won," you said between kisses, "I'm not mad." And despite already cumming, he was still hard and throbbing.

"This is me making it up to you, for today." you said, voice almost a whisper — as you flicked between his eyes. His lips parted almost in confusion and he just blinked for a moment, breathing hard — then he looked up to you with those big wet eyes, "We don't have to do anything."

You bit the inside of your cheek, "I know," you kissed him again, slower, pressing against him. At some point while you were making out, you shifted onto his lap with your tongues still twisted and, he gasped as he felt your tits press against his chest. His brows were pulled together, lips parted in something you could barely call a kiss at this point and Jungwon was so entirely overwhelmed that all you could hear was his sharp gasps as your lips trailed down to his jaw.

He was trying his absolute best not to move — then he felt your tongue, licking his ear-lobe, sucking softly. "Fuuuck," Jungwon exhaled, eyes fluttering closed, his hips bucked up at the feeling uncontrollably, his hardened length rocked against your clothed pussy and then — you moaned into his ear. Jungwon was barely there at this point, he could barely touch you back he was so dazed. He panted hard, feeling your hands guiding his to your hips, teasing as they brushed up your waist, and pressing them to your chest. He swallowed hard at your tits under his palms, by now his eyes were blown wide with desire, his chest was rising and falling harshly — cock twitching beneath his already soiled pants.

His long fingers brushed against your chest, twitching in your hold. "Can I?" he breathed, so mesmerised by how you looked on him.

"Mhm yeah," he pulled your top up, over your head — letting it fall somewhere.

You watched as his eyes dragged down, his tongue poked into his cheek, almost like he was hungry "So, so fucking pretty baby," he groaned, finally finding it in himself to move. You were slowly dragging your hips together in short tiny bursts, while his hands palmed your tits — you gasped shakily. "You like that?" he whispered, voice completely wrecked.

"Fuck yeah, take it off," you huffed, fingers tugging at the fabric. As he pulled off his shirt you undid your bra letting it fall away, the second his eyes locked onto your bare tits he could barely breathe. He glanced away for a moment as a poor attempt to compose himself. But your nipples were hard, and he couldn't help but let out a strained noise at the sight, "You're beautiful baby," his hands came up and cupped your tits, fingers brushing over them.

"Ah— fuck Won—" His head tipped back at your words, as if your words and pleasure were affecting him just as much. A shiver ran through you, your hips stopping the motions for a moment as your fingers trailed down his chest. Even in the dimmed light he looked gorgeous in a way you couldn't describe. "Pretty."

He then flipped you over, lips finding your jaw, tongue trailing down your collarbone. He kept going as your hand threaded through his hair again, pressing him closer into your chest, Jungwon made a muffled noise against you, stupidly drunk on your tits. He lolled his tongue out, flattening it and licking over your nipple — your back arched instantly, a drawn out gasp bursting out as your legs wrapped around his waist, because it was all too much. Too good. He drunk up all your reactions, hips rolling against you. His tongue found your sensitive spots and a thumb rubbed over once — then he flicked his tongue over your hard bud and sucked. "Mmmph," you moaned attempting to suppress your sounds.

"Mm—don't hide," Jungwon's eyebrows furrowed — displeased and in retaliation he sucked harder, teeth grazing your skin as he tried to take as much as he could into his mouth. You moaned close-mouthed and the sound vibrated against him, he only buried his face deeper with his own high whines.

"Fucking dreamt—of touching—you baby," he mumbles in-between sucks, "Came twice in the—shower," he rambled. That did something indescribable to your panties, especially when you could feel rigid his cock so blatantly rutting against your thigh.

"Shit—what'd you think about?" you managed to breathe out.

"Your taste—your tongue—those pretty lips."

You pulled him back up to your lips with urgency, ignoring the way your tits were now slick and swollen with his spit. His wet lips parted in a choked whine as your palm found his clothed cock, "Ah—fuck baby—" he hissed, fingers tracing against the waistband of your sleep shorts. You lifted your hips and he immediately pulled it down with one hand as your palm worked against him, his shaky breaths only grew louder, even as his fingers traced over the lace of your panties.

He cupped your pussy fully, feeling the heat and you were so fucking wet that your arousal was leaking through, Jungwon couldn't take it anymore, this entire time he'd been holding himself back, not because he didn't think you could handle him, but because he didn't think he could. "You're so fucking wet for me hm?" he tilted his head, wide eyes boring into yours as you instinctively arched into his hard, pathetically desperate for his touch now.

"All for you baby—please," your eyebrows furrowed and pleading.

He could hardly comprehend it. You were submitting for him. For half a second he didn't even move, just looked over your expression and tried to etch it into his brain — stamp it onto his forehead if he could. And then he pulled your panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them off and pressed two fingers to your slit, eyes on your every movement. But just as the contact came, it was gone, because his fingers were in his mouth, licking your slick off of one finger, eyes almost rolling back at the taste.

You lips were already parted watching, Jungwon took advantage of that and pressed his fingers to your lips but he didn't even have to speak. You took both into your mouth, sucking off his spit mixed with your cum. "So—fucking hot," he watched half-lidded, his free hand found your slit again as he gently thrust them up and down your tongue.

He then eased the tip of his finger into your entrance, your jaw loosened around his fingers — a sharp gasp leaving you. "God so fucking tight," he whispered, he hadn't stopped watching you once, not even as he sank further into your pussy. Broken breathes vibrated around him and then Jungwon finally removed his fingers from your slack mouth, a string of your spit connecting you — he wasted none of it and sucked it off, "You want my fingers baby?"

"Yeah—more, please," you barely managed.

"More?" he repeated, already starting to push in and out, slowly curling against the walls of your insides.

"—Shut—up," A breathy laugh bubbled through him in response and he pushed himself up to kiss into your mouth, which was hung open. Because he'd now added his middle finger into the mix, enamoured with the way your slicked cunt let him pump in and out effortlessly. And the noises were fucking filthy, the squelching wet sounds had heat crawling up to your ears.

His fingertips then brushed against that spongy bundle of nerves — he swallowed your high sounds with small kisses to your lips, "I knoww baby you're doing so good yeah?" he whispered against your lips, he trailed down and took your nipple into his mouth again, fingers working on your pussy — keeping that same devastating pace.

"Mm—fuckfuckfuuuck," you barely even registered what you were saying anymore.

The pressure built fast, a coil tightening — he felt your moans and babbling pick up and tensed his tongue, flicking your nipple over and over and over until your pussy was grinding against his hand, bucking into him desperately. "You like it when I fuck my fingers into you?"

"Fuck yeah I love it so much—fuck-please i'm—ah" you cried, head now tilted back lax against his pillow, your hand was raked through his hair, gripping it for dear life.

"Cum for me baby, give it to me." he spoke looking up at you. His thumb then found your clit and he rubbed harsh circles, neither of were even aware of how loud you were being at this point. Because you came hard, shaking — head spinning, and Jungwon didn't stop.

Jungwon scrambled down as you came and replaced his thumb with his lips — his arms were now hooking under your thighs, locking you in place as he sloppily licked and sucked on your nub like he'd never tasted anything better. He was also moaning and huffing into you, because he had cum just from touching you. "Won—can't," you whined tugging on his hair at the overstimulation.

"One more baby—" he breathed low into your folds, mewling at your tugging. Your legs wrapped around his head, practically using his face and he was beyond delighted to be your personal fuck-toy. He then shoved his tongue impossibly deep into your pussy, fucking into you as far as he could reach and you were simultaneously grinding your clit against the curve of his nose. Your second orgasm was practically ripped out of you and somewhere between his tongue and fingers taking turns on your shattered cunt, your milky arousal leaked straight onto his tongue.

He clamped his mouth around you and kept going, kept suckling and licking, not letting a single drop go to waste. "Taste so fucking good baby, you did so so good," he finally said, against your thighs, pressing small kisses along your soft skin. You made a small acknowledging whine in response tugging his hair again weakly, legs finally going limp against him. Jungwon kissed his way back up, up your stomach, chest, neck, jaw, finally your lips. He cupped your jaw "You're so perfect princess," he rubbed your side —soothing, a contrast to the pussy drunk blonde from a few minutes ago.

You grinned against his skin, fingers scratching lightly through his hair as he kept pressing absentminded kisses across your face, "I love you," you murmured. His lips curled against your jaw, a dimple peeking through,

"I love you too baby," he whispered back and there was still something almost disbelieving in the way he said it, like he'd been reminded this is something you both say now. Jungwon’s hands wandered slowly over your half-bare skin with obvious distraction, fingertips tracing along your waist and back while you kissed your way down the side of his neck. You took your time there deliberately, mouth brushing across warm skin before lingering at his shoulder again, because frankly, his shoulders were becoming an actual problem in your life.

"How the hell did you know how to do that?" you asked after a moment, you pulled back just enough to look at him properly, fingers still tangled loosely in his hair. For half a second Jungwon looked unbearably pleased with himself, but also somehow embarrassed too. His mouth twitched like he was debating lying, before he finally exhaled through his nose. "I did research," he admitted, trying very hard to sound casual and failing almost immediately when your expression shifted into open disbelief.

"You…studied how to give head?"

"Yes," he defended instantly, already laughing now because of the way you were staring at him. "I wanted make you feel good."

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, your forehead falling briefly against his shoulder. "That might be the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Jungwon made a quiet, flustered noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh before hiding his face immediately against the side of your neck again. "Please don’t say that."

You were about to ask why, but the answer was pressed against your thigh. And even after having the breath knocked out of you. Twice. You couldn't help the renewed urge to make him feel just as good as he'd made you feel. "Why baby?" you hummed knowingly, coaxing him out of the comfort of your neck — your lips found his again, hands slowly making their way down to his waistband.

"Because I can't get enough of you," he breathed against you, cupping your jaw as the kiss deepened into something slow and so filthy it had your heads spinning.

"Take it off." you gasped into his mouth. It was funny actually, you'd both cum multiple times and you still hadn't even seen his dick yet. His hands impatiently ripped down his pants, as you freed him his cock recoiled against his stomach and you couldn't help the way your lips parted in shock. He was longer than he was thick, curved inwards and slick with cum. And he was fucking massive. Like, how the fuck had you never noticed kind of big.

"Baby, you don't have to," Jungwon mistook your shock for something else entirely. You answered by wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and it shut him up — immediately. So sensitive from cumming twice before, he breathed out shakily just at the contact. "God, your hand alone is gonna—" he couldn't even finish his sentence because you'd pushed him back and shuffled down to face him properly.

You flattened your tongue and licked up from the base to the tip of his dick, you could feel each ridge and vein along with the warm earthy taste of him. Jungwon's length had twitched at the first contact, his head falling back, hands eagerly pushing your hair back to watch you properly. "Goddd fuck babygirl," he groaned under his breathe, shaking slightly from overstimulation. You took his flushed tip into your mouth and hummed in response, the vibrations had him shuddering, and the thought that had him already biting his lip — fighting to last. Was that this was the first time you had a dick in your mouth and it was his. He would never have known with the way you took as much of him into your mouth as you could, spit gathering in the corners of your mouth.

"So pretty with my cock in your mouth princess fuuuck," he babbled. Jungwon was battling with everything he had, his eyes were knit shut, jaw was hung open — broken whines and whimpers along with rambles shaking through into the air. And then he made the mistake of opening his eyes — to you moving off him to catch your breath, spit connecting you and you took him fully into your mouth this time, cheeks hollowing as you bobbed your head. "Shit— wait—"with a buck to his hips and a drawn out moan his cum flooded into your mouth. His entire body jerked, head falling back as you swallowed, finally releasing him with a pop. "Holy fuck.." Jungwon breathed, completely wrecked, fingers pushing shakily through your hair "Baby, where did you learn to do that?"

"Research," you said against his thigh, lips curling when his head jolted upward so fast it almost looked painful. A grin spread across your face then, as you wiped the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. "What? I wanted to make you feel good too."

For a second he just stared at you like his brain had completely stalled trying to process. Then his head tipped back slightly with a disbelieving laugh, one hand dragging down over his face, before returning immediately to you again, fingers brushing along your jaw. You grinned. "Why are you acting shocked? You literally admitted it first."

"That was different."

"How?"

"Because.. I’m me," he replied instantly, like that explained everything. You rolled your eyes immediately and Jungwon laughed in response, pulling you up properly against his chest until your legs tangled together beneath the blankets. The sound faded softer after a second, his hand moving slowly up and down your back absentmindedly while the room settled back into quiet around you. Rain still tapped faintly against the windows, gentler now, and the moonlight spilling through the curtains painted everything in silver that made Jungwon look unfairly pretty this close. His hair was messy from your hands, lips slightly swollen.

Eventually, after a long stretch of lazy conversation and kissing that kept dissolving halfway into quiet laughter, Jungwon forced himself to sit up with visible reluctance. "Shower?" he muttered, though he sounded deeply upset by the idea of moving at all. You let out a small breath of a laugh, pushing yourself upright too slowly — still half-tangled in the sheets, eyes barely open.

"We probably should." He lingered for a second longer, fingers loosely hooked around your wrist like he was testing whether he could reasonably convince you to ignore basic hygiene and stay exactly where you were, but eventually he stood anyway, pulling you up with him in the same motion

The walk to the bathroom was half-hearted at best, both of you still half-dazed, Jungwon bumping his shoulder lightly into yours in that absent, familiar way he always did when he was too tired to behave properly. The shower itself passed in a blur of sleepy warmth and quiet teasing, more soft touches than anything else, both of you too wrung out now to be anything except gentle. Jungwon then changed the sheets as you changed into some loose clothes and by the time you both finally made it back to the bed, Jungwon looked about two seconds away from falling asleep where he stood. Still, he waited until you were under the covers first before he climbed in beside you again, immediately pulling you closer. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly into his chest until there was no space left to negotiate with, his hand resting at your back in slow, absent circle.

"Stay here," he murmured. "I’m not going anywhere," you replied softly, adjusting slightly so your head rested properly against him. You felt him relax fully a moment later, the tension finally leaving his body completely as sleep started to take him properly. His breathing slowed, his grip on you never loosening even as he drifted.

You woke up gradually in pieces rather than all at once, warm and disoriented, the kind of slow return to consciousness that didn’t immediately remind you where you were, until you shifted slightly and felt Jungwon’s arm tighten instinctively around you — like even in sleep he didn’t want to let distance happen. He was already awake, you realised a moment later, watching you with that quiet, half-lidded expression he always had when he was still caught between sleep and awareness, hair slightly messed, face softer than it ever was when anyone else was around.

"Morning baby," he murmured, voice rough and low, you blinked up at him, still too warm to think properly, and for a second you just stared at him like your brain hadn’t caught up with the fact that this was now your life, sneaking into his dorm, waking up in his arms, him calling you baby so easily. You shifted closer on instinct, burying your face briefly against his chest like you could delay existing for a few more seconds, and he made a quiet, pleased sound under his breath as his hand immediately slid up your back again.

"You’re too awake," you muttered against him, voice muffled. "I’ve been awake for a while," he admitted quietly, "I was just… not moving, because you looked comfortable."

That made something in your chest perk up immediately, you leaned up slightly and kissed him, slow and unhurried, the kind of morning kiss that didn’t feel like anything complicated. Jungwon responded instantly, hand sliding up to your cheek, and for a few seconds there was nothing else in the world except the quiet, the warmth, and the fact that neither of you seemed in any rush. "We should probably get up," you murmured, though you made no move to actually do it.

"Mm," he agreed instantly, not moving either, pressing a kiss to your forehead like that solved the problem. "In a minute."

"A minute turns into an hour with you."

"That’s fine," he said easily, pulling you closer again. "We have time."

You let out a quiet laugh, which he clearly took as encouragement because he kissed you again like that was a perfectly reasonable way to start the morning.

"Last night was…" you started, pausing as you tried to find a word that didn’t immediately set your brain on fire. Jungwon raised an eyebrow slightly, clearly already knowing where this was going, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over your knuckles.

"Good?" he offered, far too calm.

You let out a small laugh, hiding your face for half a second before looking back at him. "So good,"

That earned you a quiet, satisfied hum from him, like he’d been waiting for you to say it out loud. He shifted closer again, forehead briefly resting against yours. "Yeah," he agreed, voice softer now, "I liked taking care of you."

You rolled your eyes fondly, nudging his shoulder with yours. "Research paid off then?"

"Don’t start," he muttered, but he was smiling anyway, pulling you back in by your waist, "I just wanted you to feel good."

"I did feel good," you admitted, voice dropping a little, more honest now as your fingers traced absentmindedly along his sleeve. "Really good and I wasn’t nervous with you. I thought I would be, but I wasn’t."

"Me neither," he confessed. "I mean I was nervous about everything except you." After a beat he added, "Next time, we don’t have to stop there if you don’t want to.”

"Okay then... let's not stop," you whispered against his lips. Jungwon's brain physically lagged for a moment, "You— right now?" he swallowed softly. You nodded once and for a moment he just stared at you, "You're—"

"Yes baby I'm sure." you cut him off which only had him cheesing. His hand slipped into your hair, gently pulling you back just enough to kiss you, and you rolled your eyes even as you leaned into it willingly. His free hand drifted lazily down your side, to squeeze the plush flesh of your ass and finally settling on your thigh. You hummed into his mouth at the touch pulling him closer instinctively.

Jungwon pulled back first, just enough to look at you properly. There was still a trace of sleep in his eyes, but there was something else there too. His eyes were almost black, just from kissing and that almost made you laugh. "What?" Jungwon grinned catching your lips curl.

"Just how needy you get from a little kissing," you said rubbing absentminded circles on his biceps.

"You just told me you want me to fuck you," he deadpanned, which only had you exhaling a laugh at his blunt words.

"Besides," he starts, hand splaying against your thigh, guiding and resting it over his hip. "you seemed pretty needy last night." You glanced away heat crawling up your neck, "Aw, don't get shy on me now baby." he whispered as his hand cupped your jaw guiding you to face him again.

"Won—" it came out barely above a breath, cheek now burning against his hand.

"Yeah?" he tilts his head "tell me what you need princess."

You bit the inside of your lip, you weren't planning on giving in but unfortunately you already had, 5 minutes ago. "You know what I need." you said, eyebrows pulling together.

"Mm, want to hear you say it," his eyes flit between your features, lips stretched subtly in an almost grin.

You leaned in pressing a kiss to his jaw and then licked over his pulse point, "Need your cock, inside me."

Jungwon inhaled sharply, he pulled you onto his lap properly by your thighs — lips attacking the soft flesh on your neck because he couldn't tease you anymore, not when he was throbbing beneath you. You adjusted onto him pressing your core against his stiff length.

Jungwon's hands ran up and down your body, pulling you impossibly closer like distance wasn't allowed. His tongue found yours and he slipped his hands around to your lower-back, under the fabric of your loose shorts and squeezed. You swallowed his content groan as he pulled your clothes off, starting with those shorts.

You both stripped each other between wet filthy kisses, slick sounds and your shared pleasure vibrated between your mouths. He didn't bother taking his boxers off, too caught up in his fingers finding your pussy, he groaned low into your mouth once he did "I did this to you?" he breathed against your lips.

"Mhm, you make me so fucking wet," you gasped, one hand loose on his neck, the other gripping his bicep.

He practically moaned at your words pulling you up so your core was directly on the curve of his cock. You just watched as his hands drifted to your hips, he gripped gently and jolted you forward. Your breath hitched at the first contact, a shaky moan ripping out of you as he guided you back and forth over him.

His head fell back against the headboard as he continued grinding you back and forth, hips bucking uncontrollably. "Shit, I'm gonna cum just from this," he breathed, and between the slick of both your pre-cum and the feeling of your bare pussy on his barely covered cock, you both found yourselves becoming increasingly desperate.

At some point his length under the fabric of his boxers rubbed over your clit in a perfect rhythm, heat flooded through your stomach. "God, baby," you mewled, your hand on his neck tightened just a little.

"Ah- baby I'm—" Jungwon moaned high and filthy. He had no idea something as simple as your fingers around his neck could turn him on so much.

As his hips bucked and warmth spread through his boxers your own high crashed into you with a whine. "Holy fuck," Jungwon breathed after a moment, beads of sweat forming along his hairline, "..think you're ready?" he added after a moment, you exhaled a laugh leaning forward into his neck.

He grinned flipping you over, somewhere between messy kisses and wandering hands he threw his boxers off and of course he was still fucking hard. You hooked your legs around his waist as he reached down guiding himself to your slick entrance. Your foreheads rested together, eyes on your connecting bodies. "Tell me if anything feels off," he said looking between your eyes, stern despite the desire deep in his sockets.

"I will," you whisper back, he nodded and then rubbed his tip over your slit slowly, teasing you both into shudders. His eyes snapped back up to your face, taking in every tiny twitch as he gradually pushed in, inch by inch. His lips parted in a guttural moan and your eyes threatened to roll back just at the feeling of his thickness stretching you out.

"Good?" he gasped softly, barely halfway in. A noise from the back of your mouth spilled out, half moan half whine — which almost had him spilling right there. He knit his eyes shut in concentration, breath warm against your cheek.

After a moment of composing himself the best he could he continued pushing in. Your grip on his bicep only tightened as your back slowly arched with each inch. As he bottomed out you both gasped together, Jungwon traced the curve of your lower-back holding you there, letting you adjust. "It's like you were fucking made for me," he said almost under his breath.

"Feel so—so full Won," you managed, his parted mouth curled up just slightly and then he pulled out just a little, just to push right back in — every thrust creating a spark of friction, bursting low in your belly.

Your legs around his waist tightened instinctively, pulling him impossibly closer as his hand moved from your hip to the back of your head, threading through your hair. Every sound spilling from your lips had him speeding up, "Sound so—pretty— for me."

You clenched around him at his praise, and Jungwon's hips stuttered, "Ah— you're squeezing me princess—" he breathed.

Your arms wrapped around his neck pulling his mouth onto yours, he whined low into your mouth in response. For a moment you barely responded, because the added traction of your nipples against his chest had your mouth going slack and Jungwon just stared, taking in your dazed expression and then — faster than you could comprehend he pulled your leg from his hip to his shoulder, the new position allowing his cock to reach even deeper. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure — his pace only quickened, grinding as far as he could reach. "Won-fuck-fuck-fuck—baby," you babbled between breaths.

His blonde hair was tousled in that sweaty sexy way and his tongue was lolled out how it would be when he was concentrating. His gaze instinctively dropped to your stomach, "—Oh, fuck— look at how deep I am babygirl," he gaped, eyes on the clear bulge in your tummy. Your whimpers picked up as the pressure built, thrusts deepening, "Baby— I want you to cum on my cock" he breathed leaning down, "can you do that for me?"

"Yeah—yes, fuck," you whined, he started ploughing into you, a hand reaching down to rub fast circles on your clit — you clenched hard in response a chorus of babbling and whines echoing between you.

"Want you to cum in me." you gasped as you felt that familiar chord about to snap,

"— Ah my fuuck—," his hips snapped in response a content noise spilling out of him. Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, walls convulsing around his thick length and Jungwon groaned low into your neck fucking you through it, his own release following in thick spurts deep in your pussy.

You both panted as your movements stilled, Jungwon rolled over next to you pulling you into his arms, your face in his neck as his hand raked through your hair. "You're so perfect," he whispered breathy against your hair, you made an acknowledging noise "So are you."

He pulled you back just to peck little kisses all over your face, "Baby—" you started but the words quickly dissolved into giggles. "I love you," he grinned, finally pulling back.

"I love you," you responded tracing his jaw, glancing back up at his big eyes — which were softened and dazed all for you.

"Was that okay?" he said after a moment, eyebrows pulled in a nervous furrow for a moment.

You nodded automatically, "More than okay baby," you murmured, pressing a few reassuring kisses to his pink lips. Jungwon seemed more than satisfied with your answer, a sheepish grin stretching across his face before he dropped his forehead against yours with a relieved laugh.

The two of you stayed there for another minute, tangled together beneath the blankets, neither making any real effort to move. The room was warm, the early morning light spilling lazily through the curtains, and every time you shifted closer Jungwon's arms tightened around you automatically.

Eventually reality won. Jungwon let out an exaggerated sigh before forcing himself upright, earning an immediate groan from you as the warmth disappeared. "Come on," he said, reaching down to smooth a hand through your hair. "Let's get cleaned up before we accidentally sleep until dinner."

You made a dramatic sound of protest but followed him anyway, both of you moving slower than usual, still sleepy and content in a way that made everything feel softer around the edges.

You moved through the motions of cleaning up and getting yourselves sorted out while exchanging tired smiles every few minutes. Neither of you seemed capable of being more than three feet apart without immediately drifting back together again.

The rush from earlier had faded completely, leaving only the comfortable familiarity that had always existed between you. You stole one of his hoodies without asking, and Jungwon didn't even pretend to object when you climbed back onto the bed wearing it.

"That was mine," he pointed out weakly.

"Was." You smiled and opened your arms. Jungwon immediately gave up the argument and climbed back beside you. For a while he simply held you there, arms secure around your middle, the morning sunlight spilling across the room around you. You rested against his chest while he absentmindedly played with your fingers, occasionally pressing lazy kisses into your hair whenever he thought you weren't paying attention.

Then he pressed his face into your hair and mumbled, "Can we stay like this for another ten minutes?"

"Baby later, I've gotta go before the others wake up," you said, already laughing as his grip tightened immediately in protest. Jungwon groaned dramatically into your shoulder as though you had just delivered devastating news.

"You'll survive."

He lifted his head just enough to give you a deeply unimpressed look, which only made you laugh harder. The sight seemed to completely ruin whatever argument he was trying to make because a second later he was smiling too, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. He leaned forward and stole one last kiss before you could continue arguing, smiling against your lips when you made an offended noise. "There," he said, satisfied with himself. "Now you can go."

"Thank you for the permission."

"You're welcome, baby."

You rolled your eyes, but your chest felt warm anyway. You pressed a final kiss to his lips even as he made another half-hearted sound of protest, and only then did you manage to actually sit up properly. It took several more minutes than it should have to leave because Jungwon kept finding reasons to pull you back for one more hug, one more kiss, one more excuse to keep you there.

The castle was still half asleep by the time you finally slipped out of Jungwon’s room, the corridor dim and quiet enough that your footsteps sounded louder than they actually were. Behind you, Jungwon's door clicked shut softly. You were already smiling to yourself, and that should have been your first warning that the universe was about to humble you.

The sleeves of his hoodie hanging too long over your hands as you padded toward the kitchen with the vague hope of grabbing water before attempting the walk back to your own dorm unnoticed.

You were halfway through convincing yourself everyone was asleep when you stepped into the kitchen and nearly had a heart attack. Jake was already there, sitting at the counter with a mug in one hand like he’d been awake long enough to enter a different stage of consciousness. He looked up the second you walked in and visibly froze mid-sip.

You froze too and for a long second, neither of you spoke. Jake’s eyes dragged slowly over your appearance, your wet hair, the oversized hoodie, the fact it was very obviously Jungwon’s, the way you looked suspiciously rumpled for someone supposedly just passing through at sunrise. Then his eyebrows lifted so high they practically disappeared into his hairline.

"…No fucking way," he said finally, you immediately sighed,

"Don’t."

Jake leaned back in his chair. "Oh my god," he breathed, grinning now.

"I didn’t mean to fall asleep," you said far too quickly. Jake just stared at you, then his eyes dropped to your neck, then back at you again. "…Uh huh," he said flatly, heat crawled violently into your face.

"Jake." Before he could answer, another set of footsteps shuffled into the kitchen behind you and Jungwon appeared looking equally exhausted, hair still wet, shirt wrinkled beyond saving. He stopped the second he saw Jake’s expression and immediately knew, eyes closing briefly.

"Fuck."

Jake pointed between the two of you with genuine outrage. "You two are fucking monsters." You covered your face instantly but Jungwon, instead of denying it like a normal person, looked genuinely stricken for a completely different reason.

"I knew we were being too loud."

You whipped around fast. "Shut the fuck up."

Jake doubled over laughing immediately while Jungwon dragged a hand through his hair. "I’m just saying, I had a feeling."

"A feeling?" Jake repeated, wheezing. "Bro, the entire floor had a feeling." Jungwon looked deeply ashamed for maybe half a second before moving behind you and immediately hiding his face in your shoulder. His arms slid loosely around your waist without thinking, all warm and unfairly comfortable despite the situation. Which only made Jake point harder. "Two days since you 'made' up. TWO."

"We were going to tell you," Jungwon muttered weakly. Jake only stared at him. "After what?"

You groaned covering your face with both hands now. "Shut up." you said muffled.

Jake, unfortunately, was enjoying himself far too much now. "Do you understand how traumatic it is," he continued, "to wake up at like three in the morning thinking somebody is getting brutally murdered and then realizing no, it’s just Jungwon losing his virginity." Jungwon made a strangled noise into your neck. "Stop talking." he mumbled not even bothering correcting him.

"No, because I almost came in to check if—"

"Jake." He held both hands up immediately, still laughing. "Alright, okay, I’m done." He clearly was not done. The grin stayed permanently stuck on his face as he looked between you both again, softer this time beneath all the teasing.

"Seriously though," he said, shaking his head. "About fucking time." You felt your embarrassment ease just slightly at that but Jake ruined it immediately by narrowing his eyes at Jungwon "But I swear to god, if I hear even one suspicious sound again, I’m knocking on the wall like an old man."

Jungwon finally lifted his head just enough to mumble, "Can you keep your voice down before the others wake up?"

Jake gasped dramatically. "Oh, now we care about volume."

You scoffed turning your head to Jungwon, while he started laughing into you, shoulders shaking. "This is your fault," you told him immediately.

"My fault?” he repeated, offended now despite the grin tugging at his mouth. “You were the one making—”

"Finish that sentence and I’ll kill you." Jake nearly folded in half laughing again while Jungwon wisely shut his mouth, though the smug look on his face made it very clear he absolutely could finish that sentence.The kitchen settled after that into quieter laughter, the kind that came easier after the initial humiliation burned off and light conversation. Jake took another sip of coffee, still occasionally looking at the two of you with disbelief written all over his face, while Jungwon stayed tucked against your shoulder without an ounce of shame left in him anymore.

"We lasted barely two days," you said, turning to look at Jungwon again. He groaned into your neck, arms tightening around your waist. "I thought we’d at least make it a week," he said. "Yeah, no chance," you laughed.

"Worth it," Jungwon whispered, breath warm against your ear. You rolled your eyes automatically, though the smile pulling at your mouth ruined any attempt at annoyance. Behind you, Jake made a deeply offended sound into his coffee mug.

"I hate both of you."

Eventually, after Jake threatened violence if either of you stayed in the kitchen any longer, you finally escaped back to your dorm. The walk across the hall felt strangely light, maybe because the secret was already starting to slip out of your hands anyway. Your dorm was quiet when you slipped inside, still half asleep as morning light spilled weakly through the windows. You changed quickly, washing your face in freezing water in a failed attempt to wake yourself up properly.

By the time you finally made your way down to breakfast, the castle had properly woken up around you. Voices echoed through the corridors, footsteps overlapping against stone floors, the usual morning chaos settling back into place. Breakfast passed in a blur of pointed looks and carefully neutral behaviour, the kind where you and Jungwon sat just far enough apart to be technically innocent but close enough that Jake kept smirking into his drink.

The afternoon found you all together again, sprawled in a common lounge space near the library where people usually ended up when they had nowhere else to be. Ni-ki had claimed an armchair, Heeseung was half lying across the sofa scrolling on his phone, Kenny was arguing about something unimportant, and Jake was sitting on the floor leaning against the couch in a way that made it look like he was physically restraining himself from commenting on anything.

You ended up beside Jungwon without thinking, like it was muscle memory rather than choice. He didn’t say anything about it either, just shifted slightly to make space for you, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt entirely too natural for something you were supposedly hiding. It was almost working, until someone else walked in.

It was one of the older Slytherin students you vaguely recognised, confident enough in the way he carried himself to immediately head in your direction with an easy smile. You only realised he was speaking to you when he stopped directly in front of the sofa, asking your name with the kind of casual interest that didn’t quite match the way his eyes stayed on your face. "Hey," he said again, like repeating it made it smoother, "I’ve seen you around, I just wanted to say hi properly."

You answered politely, confused more than anything, and that was apparently enough encouragement for him to keep talking. Jungwon didn’t move at first, which was almost impressive, but the change in him was immediate anyway. You felt it, the shift in posture beside you, the way his leg tensed slightly where it was stretched out near yours, the subtle lean forward like he was suddenly very aware of the space between you and the stranger.

The guy laughed at something you said, just a little too familiar, and Jungwon finally looked up. "Can I help you?" Jungwon asked, voice calm in a way that didn’t match the look in his eyes at all.

The guy blinked, slightly thrown by the tone more than the words. "Oh, I was just talking to her—"

"I know," he said lightly, still smiling. "I heard." There was a beat of silence that felt like it stretched too long for comfort. Heeseung slowly lowered his phone. Ni-ki straightened in his chair. Kenny stopped talking mid-sentence. Jake covered his mouth with his hand, shoulders already shaking like he was physically fighting laughter.

The guy looked between you and Jungwon now, the confusion starting to shift into something more cautious. "Are you her boyfriend or something?"

Jungwon didn’t even hesitate. "No," he said easily, still smiling. Then he glanced at you for half a second, softer in a way only you caught, like the answer wasn’t meant for anyone else in the room.

"Not yet."

The room absolutely lost it in the most restrained way possible, like everyone was trying not to make it worse but failing miserably. Jake made a sound that suspiciously turned into a cough halfway through. Kenny’s eyes went wide. Ni-ki leaned forward, elbows on knees. Even Heeseung looked like he was trying very hard to understand if this was a joke or a confession.

The guy cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh… I’ll leave you to it then." He left faster than he arrived.

"Jungwon," you said under your breath, he finally looked at you properly now, expression completely unreadable for half a second before it softened again, like he couldn’t help himself.

"What? I was polite." he said quietly, too calm to be innocent.

"That was not polite," you laughed in disbelief, leaning into his shoulder without thinking, like your body had decided this was just normal again, completely forgetting for a second that everyone else in the room was currently reconstructing reality around you both. It only took you half a second to realise they had gone quiet in that very specific way that meant people were talking without actually speaking.

Jungwon didn’t even flinch at the contact, just shifted slightly so you fit against him more naturally. "It was," he insisted, still annoyingly calm about it, eyes flicking briefly down to you like he was more focused on you than the entire audience pretending not to exist

It wasn’t loud at first, more like a collective pause. The kind where nobody speaks because everyone is trying to decide who breaks first. Then Kenny finally leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowed like she was assembling a case in real time. "So," she said carefully, "just to clarify what I’m watching right now.”

Heeseung exhaled through his nose, already looking tired of being right about everything. "Don’t say ‘just to clarify’ like you’re not about to interrogate them."

"I am," Kenny replied immediately, not even looking away from you two. Ni-ki tilted his head, openly curious now. "So like.. you're together?"

Jungwon didn’t answer straight away. Not because he was hiding anything, but because he looked mildly amused by the fact that they were only just catching up. His hand stayed resting casually near your knee like it belonged there, thumb brushing once against your leg. Kenny didn’t even look up properly, just pointed vaguely at you both. "I knew it. I literally said it. No one listens to me in this house."

Jungwon finally sat up a little, still calm but noticeably less playful now that he could feel the full attention on him. "It’s not new," he said simply, like that answered anything.

That made Jake let out a quiet laugh from the floor. "That is the most unhelpful sentence you could’ve chosen."

Jungwon hummed quietly at that, glancing at you for half a second like he was sharing the joke only with you. "We didn’t plan for it to be… announced," he said, which made Jake snort again.

"Oh, it got announced,” Jake said. "Loudly. Multiple times."

You covered your face briefly, heat creeping up your neck. "Please stop talking."

Kenny looked between you and Jake now, fully locking in on something she wasn’t ready to let go of. "He knew??"

"Unfortunately," Jake mumbled, clearly enjoying your embarrassment far too much, leaning back into the sofa. "I’ve been carrying this knowledge alone."

Heeseung let out a quiet breath through his nose, shaking his head a little. "That explains a lot, actually."

Jungwon shifted slightly beside you, still calm but now visibly more amused, like the whole thing had officially crossed into ridiculous territory he no longer felt the need to resist. "He’s been unbearable since this morning," he added.

"Excuse you,” Jake said instantly. “I have been supportive."

"You threatened to knock on the wall." you reminded him.

"I was setting boundaries," Jake replied without missing a beat.

Kenny pointed between all of you again, narrowing her eyes. "Okay, no, I’m still not done with you two."

"We feel like we are," you said.

"You’re not," she replied, and she wasn’t lying. The next twenty minutes somehow turned into a slow, ongoing series of questions that weren’t even really questions anymore, just observations disguised as curiosity. Heeseung quietly checking if you were both "Okay okay" after everything, Ni-ki asking far too many casual "So like when did you realise" questions, Kenny refusing to let any detail pass unexamined, and Jungwon answering everything with infuriating calmness like this was a group project he had already finished. You eventually stopped trying to defend anything and just leaned fully into him again, which only made them look more satisfied and by the time they finally let it go, it wasn’t because they were out of questions. It was because they were exhausted.

Jake was the first one to fully give up, getting up and stretching like he had just survived a long-haul flight, then walked over and flopped directly down between you both on the sofa like personal space was an outdated concept. "Alright," he announced, already reaching an arm around your shoulders and the other around Jungwon. "I approve of this relationship."

You made a sound of protest, half-laughing as his weight pushed you both closer together. "You don’t get to approve anything."

"I do," Jake said, completely unbothered, settling in like he was comfortable there for the rest of the day. "I suffered through the years of denial."

Jungwon leaned slightly into the chaos without complaint, glancing down at Jake’s arm like it was mildly inconvenient but acceptable. "You’re heavy," he said and Jake squeezed tighter just to be annoying.

"And you’re welcome."

Ni-ki was still watching like he was trying to decide if this counted as normal behaviour now. Kenny had her chin propped in her hand, looking way too pleased with how this had all resolved itself. Heeseung, as usual, looked like he’d already accepted the situation ten steps before everyone else caught up.

Then Kenny exhaled, a small smile tugging at her mouth. "No, seriously though," she said, eyes flicking between you and Jungwon, "I’m happy for you both." Ni-ki nodded immediately like that was the only logical conclusion. "Yeah. About time, honestly." Heeseung hummed in agreement, calm as ever.

Jake tilted his head back against the sofa, still wrapped around both of you like a human barricade. "Yeah," he added, quieter but sincere underneath all the noise, "I’m happy for you guys. It’s been… a lot watching you finally get here." That landed in a way that made your chest feel a little warm and too tight at the same time. Jungwon didn’t say anything straight away, just pat Jake's shoulder.

"Yeah," he said finally, softer than usual, "it was worth it."

Jake, of course, ruined the softness immediately by squeezing you both again. "Don’t get emotional," he said. "I will make it weird again if I have to."

Later that night, long after the teasing had finally died down and everyone had gone their separate ways, Jungwon appeared outside your dorm looking suspicious in a way that immediately made you narrow your eyes at him. The corridor was quiet, lit only by the warm dim glow from the wall sconces, and he stood there with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket like he was attempting innocence he absolutely did not possess.

"You look guilty," you informed him as you stepped out into the corridor, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself against the cold stone air. Jungwon’s mouth twitched immediately, blonde hair falling messily across his forehead from where he’d clearly been dragging his hands through it for a while now.

"I’m literally just standing here," he said, though the defensive edge to it only made you more suspicious. Before you could continue interrogating him, he reached for your hand, fingers slipping easily between yours with effortless familiarity. "Come with me," he added, thumb brushing absentmindedly across your knuckles. "I’m not doing anything illegal. Probably."

"That is not reassuring."

"It should be slightly reassuring," he corrected, already tugging you along the corridor. You let him pull you through the castle despite the growing certainty that he absolutely was planning something. The higher the staircases became, the more sceptical you got, until eventually you slowed to a stop halfway up another winding staircase and looked at him properly. "Jungwon," you said carefully, already trying not to laugh, "Why are we climbing seventy flights of stairs at midnight."

He laughed under his breath at that, squeezing your hand gently. "Can you trust me for five minutes, baby? Just five. I’m asking for very little here." he replied, tugging lightly on your hand until you started moving again. The pet name distracted you just enough that he managed to get you all the way to the top before you could continue questioning him. There was something annoying in his expression already, like he knew you were going to like whatever this was and was trying not to ruin it too early.

The second the tower door swung open, night air rushed around you, carrying the distant sound of wind through the castle grounds below and then your eyes landed on the setup waiting near the far side of the tower. Blankets and pillows looking ridiculously comfortable, spread across the stone floor beneath the stars, complete with snacks shoved into one corner and what looked suspiciously like one of the softer blankets stolen from the boys dorm. You stopped dead in the doorway staring at it while Jungwon immediately looked away like he physically couldn’t handle your reaction yet.

"Baby," you breathed.

"It gets cold up here," he says quickly, though the slight pinkness creeping into his face completely ruined any attempt at nonchalance. "And carrying all of this up here was genuinely horrible. I almost gave up halfway through and just invited you to the couch downstairs."

That startled a laugh out of you, warm enough that some of the tension visibly left his shoulders at the sound. You’d started noticing that recently too — how much he relaxed whenever you laughed now, like some deeply anxious part of him was still adjusting to the fact that he no longer had to wonder if you wanted him around.

"C’mere," he murmured after a second, reaching for you again. He pulled your jacket off for you before shrugging his own off and tossing both onto the blankets carelessly. You let him guide you over before dropping down beside him, both of you dissolving into quiet laughter when one of the pillows immediately slid out from underneath you and nearly sent you sideways. Jungwon caught you automatically, one arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you securely against him, and the smug little smile that appeared afterwards made you grin immediately.

"Who knew you'd be such a sap."

“Baby I worked hard,” he replied, attempting to sound serious about it. “Do you know how difficult it is to sneak this many pillows through the castle without people asking questions. Jake watched me walk past and just went, ‘If you’re not proposing up there don't tell me about it after.’"

You exhaled a laugh. "That sounds like him."

The wind moved softly around the tower after that, the blankets warm beneath you while Jungwon shifted until you were tucked comfortably against his chest, his arm draped around your waist beneath the layers of fabric. For a while neither of you spoke. You just sat there together watching the dark grounds stretch below the tower while his fingers traced lazy patterns against your side through your top. Eventually though, Jungwon let out a quiet breath, the kind that gave him away instantly.

You tilted your head back slightly to look at him. "What’s going on in that brain right now."

Jungwon groaned softly before dropping his head back against the stone wall behind him. "I had this planned better in my head," he admitted.

A laugh escaped you immediately. "That's not an answer."

His fingers tightened around yours beneath the blanket before he looked back down at you again, expression slowly melting into something quieter. "I just keep thinking about how everyone already calls you mine, and you are. And I know that sounds stupid, because everything is already obvious, but it’s been bothering me all day,"

You blinked at him once, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "After wanting this for so long, I don’t want to do any of it halfway with you. I don’t wanna look back later and realize I skipped over asking because I assumed you already knew."

You squeezed his hand, smiling into his shoulder. Jungwon looked down at you then, fully this time, all soft and nervous honesty under the dim lantern light.

"So," he said carefully, "Baby, can I be your boyfriend, properly."

Something about the way he asked nearly ruined you on the spot. That after years of almosts and misunderstandings and loving each other so quietly it physically hurt, you had somehow ended up here instead.

"You’re ridiculous."

"That's not a no," he said immediately, grinning way too much for someone trying to act calm. You kissed him, laughter dissolving against his mouth when he melted into it instantly, one hand sliding up to cup your cheek while his relieved smile pressed warm against your lips.

"Yes," you whispered once you pulled back enough to breathe. "Obviously yes."

He exhaled hard through his nose before pulling you impossibly closer into him, forehead pressing against yours while he laughed quietly under his breath. "Okay good," he murmured. "Because I’ve actually been stressed about asking you for, like, six hours."

"You did not think I was going to say no," you teased, brushing your nose lightly against his.

"Mmm. I considered the possibility," he replied with a tiny shrug that immediately ruined the seriousness of the moment. You swatted at his shoulder and he laughed properly this time, catching your hand before you could do it again and pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles.

"Boyfriend," he said suddenly, testing the word out loud, and unfortunately your face betrayed you immediately.

"Oh," his eyes widened, and then he laughed softly.

"Jungwon."

His grin only widened as he wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you against him properly. "My girlfriend," he whispered, sounding entirely too pleased with himself now. You groaned and buried your face in his shoulder, which only made him laugh harder, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.

For a second you just held his eyes, looking into the same boy who used to love you silently from across rooms, from hidden glances and overthought conversations and years of wanting without knowing what to do with it.

The story had never been about falling in love. It had been about realising you already were. Jungwon tilted his head slightly when he noticed you staring.

"What?"

You smiled and leaned forward and kissed him again beneath the stars, beneath the endless sky that had watched every version of you both become this one.

And when you finally pulled away, the future didn't feel frightening anymore. It felt familiar. It looked like stolen hoodies and sleepy mornings, like a boy with messy blonde hair looking at you as though he'd never quite believe his luck.

And beneath a sky full of stars, surrounded by the quiet magic of a world that had brought you together long before either of you understood why, you stayed there a little longer.

Just two people who had spent four years finding their way home.

V 𓄧 wowowowow. i'd already written 17k words when i posted 4poison1 so i was like, yo this is not gonna take me long at all......... a month later. . .imsorry ok i hope this makes up for it AND JS KNOW i will NAUT be writing long ass fics for a while omg this took me from FEBRUARY TO JUNE. i love you x

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[sukunaglazerrr]

HusbandKuna x Reader who lost her memory

After a tragic accident erased your memories, you no longer remember the man you married. Unfortunately for you, Ryomen Sukuna remembers everything. And he'll do whatever it takes to make you remember him too.

Everything was so much weird.

When you first opened your eyes, the world was a blur of harsh lights and a rhythmic, annoying beep that made your head throb. A crowd of people were hovering over your bed, their faces twisted into expressions of pure horror and desperation. It felt like they were looking at a ghost or maybe a god that had suddenly fallen from the sky. The moment you blinked and stared back at them with blank, unrecognizing eyes, the room dissolved into quiet, breathless weeping.

You were completely utterly lost. Who was the woman with the dark circles under her eyes calling herself Shoko? Why was she gripping your hand like her entire world was ending? You knew your own name y/n echoed clearly in the empty caverns of your mind, but beyond that single fact, there was only a vast, terrifying void. You understood the modern world. you knew what a smartphone was, you recognized the concept of Wi-Fi, and when you mumbled those details, the doctors in the room let out collective, gasping sighs of relief.

But the real shock came twenty minutes later.

The heavy door to the hospital room burst open with a violent slam. A man lunged inside like a madman, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. You had never seen anyone look like him. His hair was a soft, striking shade of pastel pink so pretty and unexpected that you wondered for a fleeting second if he had dyed it just to stand out. Dark, intricate tattoos mapped across his skin, curling around his sharp cheekbones and framing his eyes. And those eyes... they were a piercing, burning red, swirling with a volatile mixture of terrifying rage and profound, shattering sadness.

You just sat there in your oversized, faded blue hospital gown, looking small and fragile as your confused gaze met his. The man froze, roughly brushing a strand of pink hair out of his face. His clothes were covered in a layer of grey dust and dried grit, looking as though he had sprinted straight off a construction site the second he got the news.

"Fucking... God. Hey, princess... fuck, don't you ever scare me like that again" he breathed, his deep, gravelly voice cracking as he took two massive strides toward your bedside, staring down at you with a desperation that made the air feel heavy.

You shrank back into the pillows, your brow furrowing. Princess? Were you in some bizarre historical simulation? Did kings and horses still exist? No, the blinking medical monitors around you disproved that immediately.

"Mr. Sukuna, please. I need to speak with you in private for a moment" a woman in her mid forties interrupted, her expression incredibly grave as she stepped between you and the huge man. She glanced at the other people lingering by the door. There was a teenage boy, maybe sixteen, who had the exact same pink hair as the tattooed man, his face streaked with tears. Beside him stood another boy with unruly, spiky black hair and a dull, stoic expression that couldn't quite hide the anxiety in his eyes. At the doctor's quiet command, they all slowly filed out into the hallway.

Left alone for a moment, you stared at the stark white walls, the untouched glass of water on the bedside table, and the crushing, dull monotony of the room.

When the door clicked open again, the female physician returned, holding a thick medical chart. The tattooed man followed closely behind her. He tried to offer you a small, reassuring smile, but it looked incredibly strained on his rugged face. His crimson eyes locked onto you, tracking every breath you took as if you might literally vanish into thin air if he dared to look away for a single second.

"Hello, y/n. I am Dr. Jennifer" the woman said kindly, stepping up to the mattress. "Do you know why you were brought here today?"

You frowned, looking between her and the towering man. "No."

The syllable was short and hollow. Beside the doctor, Sukuna’s entire frame stiffened. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered violently beneath his tattoos, his knuckles turning white as he balled his hands into fists.

"Right. But you do remember your name?" she pressed gently.

"Yes... y/n I am Y/N." you answered firmly. You knew the name belonged to you, even if the history attached to it was completely gone.

"And do you know where you are right now?"

"A hospital?"

"Correct" Dr. Jennifer nodded, opening the document in her hands. "Look, I am going to explain exactly what happened, and I need you to listen very carefully, alright?" You gave a small, hesitant nod. "You were in a severe accident yesterday evening. You were walking home from the local market when a car veered off the road and hit you. It is a miracle you walked away with minor physical injuries, but the trauma to your head has caused a severe case of retrograde amnesia. Honestly, it's a surprise you even remember your name right now."

You let out a quiet hum, your eyes drifting down to your own hands resting on the thin blanket. That was when you noticed it a slender, platinum band set with a brilliant, flawlessly cut diamond resting securely on your left ring finger. It looked incredibly expensive, classy, and entirely foreign

So you were married.

"Y/n" Dr. Jennifer’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You snapped your head up to look at her. "This man standing beside me... he is your husband."

The doctor tilted her head toward the giant. He was massive easily over six feet of raw, intimidating muscle, his tattooed face giving him a terrifying, dangerous aura. Your very first instinctual thought was that this man looked incredibly scary.

Sukuna didn't say a word. He just stood there, letting you analyze him, before he offered you a tiny, incredibly vulnerable nod. You tilted your head, staring into his intense red eyes, desperately searching for a single spark of familiarity. Did I really marry this giant?

"His name is Ryomen Sukuna, and he is going to take care of you" the doctor continued, closing her chart. "For the next few weeks, you need to let your brain rest, but you also need to gently stimulate it to try and regain those lost memories. Spending time in a familiar environment, in your own home with your husband, is going to be the best medicine for you."

You nodded mutely. You didn't exactly have a choice. You were being handed over to a complete stranger who happened to hold a legal claim to your entire life.

"Alright then. I wish you a safe and speedy recovery" Dr. Jennifer said with a final, empathetic smile before slipping out of the room.

The heavy silence that followed was suffocating. Sukuna cleared his throat roughly, taking a few slow, tentative steps toward the edge of your bed. He moved with an immense amount of caution, as if he genuinely believed a sudden movement might break you into pieces. He pulled up the small plastic chair, sinking into it.

"Hey" he said softly. Even in a whisper, his voice was incredibly manly, deep, and rough.

"Hello" you replied shortly, your eyes tracking his hands.

To your surprise, his large, scarred fingers were trembling slightly as he fidgeted with them, refusing to meet your eyes. When he finally looked up, you realized the piercing red of his irises was completely glossy, swimming with unshed tears.

"Yo... you're getting discharged today" he choked out, taking a deep, ragged breath as if the mere act of speaking was causing him physical pain. "I'm going to go sign the paperwork, and then I'm taking you to... our house. I'm going to do whatever the fuck it takes to help you remember, princess."

You stared at his rugged, tattooed face for a long moment before letting out a soft, distant hum.

An hour later, you were sitting in the passenger seat of a sleek, black Jeep, The man Sukuna kept his left hand firmly on the steering wheel while his eyes flicked toward you every sixty seconds, his intense gaze making a nervous flutter erupt in your stomach.

You stared out the window, watching the city buildings, sprawling neighborhoods, and vibrant green trees blur past. Intrigued by the warm breeze, you raised your hand, pressing your palm gently against the glass as if you wanted to touch the passing leaves. Instantly, the window smoothly rolled down. Startled, you turned your head to find Sukuna adjusting the master controls, his eyes locked onto you with an unreadable warmth.

"Can I ask you something-" you murmured softly.

"Yes." The answer came incredibly fast, almost desperate. He was hanging on your every word, practically begging for you to speak to him.

"How... how did we meet?" you asked, leaning your elbow on the door frame as the wind whipped through your hair.

"We met in high school" he answered quickly, navigating a sharp turn onto a quiet, "We've been married for seven years."

"High school?" You tilted your head, a faint smile touching your lips as you extended your hand just slightly out into the rushing air. "Were we friends back then?"

"Careful" he commanded firmly, though there was no real heat in his voice. You obediently pulled your hand back inside. A faint, nostalgic softness crept into his red eyes as he looked ahead. "Friends? no. You could say we didn't liked eachother each other when we first met. You thought I was a loud, arrogant mannerless jerk and I thought you were a stubborn, bossy brat."

He smoothly pulled the Jeep into a long brick driveway, coming to a stop in front of a breathtaking, modern two story house. It was painted a crisp, elegant white with sleek charcoal-grey accents, boasting massive, floor to ceiling windows that caught the afternoon sun.

"This is...our house" Sukuna murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "We've been living here for about four years."

He killed the engine, threw his door open, and practically sprinted around the hood of the car to open your door before you could even reach for the handle. He extended a massive, tattooed hand toward you, his palm open and waiting. You stared at his hand, your eyes traveling up the thick muscles of his forearm, before you deliberately stepped down onto the driveway without taking it.

Sukuna’s hand froze in mid-air. You watched his fingers slowly curl back into a fist before he pulled his arm away, a flash of pure, agonizing heartbreak crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a stoic expression.

As your feet hit the pavement, you looked up at the towering structure, desperately begging your brain to spark even a single ounce of familiarity. Nothing came. But as you turned around, you caught a glimpse of the man standing beside you. He was on the absolute verge of tears. His chest was tight, his jaw locked as he stared at you. You were his entire world, his beautiful wife, and yet you were looking at him like he was a total stranger. He suddenly felt a wave of profound hatred for every single time he had ever been mean or stubborn with you in the past, even in jest. He just wanted his girl back. His sweet innocent girl.

"The house is beautiful" you murmured gently, walking toward the porch.

'The house.' Not our house. The detached wording made Sukuna’s jaw clench painfully.

"Of course it is. I built the damn thing" he muttered, following closely behind you.

It was your exact dream house. Years ago, back when you were just broke college students dating in a cramped apartment, you had traced a clumsy design on a napkin, telling him you wanted a modern white house with endless windows, three bedrooms, and a kitchen large enough for the two of you to bake and slow-dance together while listening to old jazz records. Sukuna had kept that napkin. The moment he made his fortune, he hired a crew but did the vast majority of the heavy structural work with his own two hands. He had gifted you the keys on your third wedding anniversary, and he could still vividly remember the way you had wept tears of joy, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him until you were both breathless. He wanted that smile back. He would give anything just to have you look at him the way you used to.

You stepped inside, ignoring the heavy emotion rolling off him. Sukuna quickly gathered your small hospital bags and followed you into the foyer, shutting the door behind him.

Your eyes immediately gravitated toward the kitchen. It was vast, open, and undeniably stunning, featuring a massive quartz island and a huge sliding glass door that opened directly into a manicured backyard garden. The entire layout felt strangely perfect.

"Let me show you... around" Sukuna offered quietly.

He spent the next half hour guiding you through the corridors of what was supposed to be your life. But as he showed you the grand master bedroompointing out the side of the bed where you used to curl into his chest every single night your face remained entirely blank. You felt a twinge of heavy guilt pooling in your stomach. He showed you the living room, drawing your attention to a collection of large, breathtaking canvas paintings hanging on the walls.

"You painted those" Sukuna noted, a faint trace of pride in his rough voice. "You're a brilliant artist, princess."

You blinked in genuine surprise, looking down at your hands. "I drew these?" You were suprised, you don't even remember touching a brush in your life. But this is your new life. New start.

"Yeah." Sukuna stopped at the edge of the hallway, looking down at you with completely bloodshot eyes. He hadn't slept a single second since the hospital called him about your accident. All he wanted to do was wrap his massive arms around your waist, pull you flush against his chest, and bury his face in your hair until the nightmare ended. But he couldn't. "Look... you can sleep in the guest bedroom down the hall, or you can take our bedroom and I'll stay in the guest room. Whatever makes you feel comfortable. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable you."

"Okay" you hummed softly.

His heart broke a little more at the compliant, distant tone. "I'll go start on some dinner, and then I'll get your medication ready. If you need a single damn thing, you just call out for me, alright? Your clothes are all in the dresser, undergarments in the top drawer, pajamas in the second..."

You nodded, offering him a polite murmur of thanks before retreating into the guest room. You changed into a simple, comfortable t-shirt and sweats. A little while later, his deep voice echoed up the stairs, announcing that dinner was ready. You walked down to the dining room, sitting at the large table like a polite houseguest waiting to be served.

"Do you need help?" Sukuna asked, carefully sliding a steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup and a large spoon toward you. You shook your head, grasping the utensil and taking a quiet sip. He sat across from you, his own bowl entirely untouched as he just stared at your face. "Y/n... you really don't remember a single damn thing about me?"

His voice cracked completely on the last word, the raw vulnerability of a ruthless man exposed right in front of you. You looked up, meeting his glossy red eyes.

"No... I don't. I'm really sorry" you whispered genuinely.

He let out a slow nod, swallowing the lump in his throat as he forced himself to look away. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault."

"Do I... do I have parents? Or friends?" you asked, a sudden curiosity about your own forgotten life bubbling up.

"Yeah. You have parents. Your father—"

"Where are they?" you interrupted quickly, leaning forward. "Do they know I was in an accident? Why aren't they here?"

"They haven't spoken to you in over seven years. Not since the day you married me" Sukuna said, his tone dropping into something cold and bitter.

"Why?"

"Your family is rich as fuck. Extremely strict, arrogant aristocrats" Sukuna explained, his red eyes locking back onto yours. "They completely forbade you from seeing me because I was just a rough, tattooed bastard from the wrong side of the tracks with a criminal record and a unstable future. They told you that if you walked out that door with me, you’d be cut off permanently."

You stared at him, a sudden spark of heat flaring in your chest. "Well, that's so stupid of them. It sounds like a good thing we don't talk to them then."

The sheer, unyielding loyalty in your voice made Sukuna’s lips twitch, a genuine, heartbreaking smile threatening to break through his stoic mask. Even with a wiped memory, his sweet wife still possessed that exact same fiery, protective spirit.

"Yeah" he chuckled hoarsely, letting out a long sigh. "You have an incredible best friend named Shoko. You two are both doctors. you work in the exact same surgical unit at the city hospital. We have a ton of mutual friends we met back in our high school days. And those kids at the hospital? The pink-haired teenager is my nephew, Yuji, and the dark-haired one is Megumi, our friend's kid. They practically worship the ground you walk on, princess. You love those brats to death."

"Can I see them?" you asked, a genuine smile finally breaking across your face.

"Of course. Whenever you want." he promised, his eyes tracking the way your lips curved.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm thirty two. You're thirty" Sukuna answered smoothly.

"Wow. So we're getting old," you teased gently.

Sukuna let out a sudden, rough snort, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes. "Old or not, woman... you're still completely breathtaking."

A deep, violent blush instantly stained your cheeks. You hadn't been around an attractive man or any man, for that matter in your conscious memory, and having this giant, dangerously handsome individual throw such a raw compliment at you made your heart do a chaotic somersault. You quickly looked down at your soup, missing the way his eyes softened at your reaction.

Over the next three weeks, the fragments of a life began to surround you, even if the puzzle pieces wouldn't quite lock into place.

Yuji and Megumi came over to the house constantly. Yuji spent hours enthusiastically teaching you how to make his signature protein shakes and weird jello molds, his loud laughter filling the quiet house, while Megumi sat nearby with his usual serious expression. But the moment you offered Megumi a soft, encouraging smile, his sharp features would instantly melt into something deeply tender. Yet, beneath their smiles, you could see the underlying sadness in their eyes every time you failed to remember a shared inside joke.

When Shoko finally visited, she broke down completely, throwing her arms around your neck and sobbing into your shoulder. It was a bizarre maybe stupid too, overwhelming feeling being fiercely loved by people you couldn't even remember and a heavy weight of guilt began to settle deep in your chest. You even met Toji, Megumi's father, a tall, stoic man who didn't say much but looked at you with a quiet, profound pity that made you realize just how broken your situation truly was.

And then, there was Sukuna.

Your husband spent every single day patiently guiding you through your routines, driving you past your old university, cooking your favorite meals, and trying every gentle trigger possible. But your mind remained a stubborn, locked vault. Sukuna was growing desperate furious and completely fucked up by the stagnation.

To make matters worse, just one week before the accident, you had playfully taken down every single one of your framed marriage photographs to rearrange the living room gallery wall, hiding them away in a "genius spot" that Sukuna had completely forgotten more like you didn't even told him. He had spent hours frantically tearing the house apart while you were out, searching for a single modern photo of the two of you together.

He was completely unraveling. He couldn't sleep. The woman he loved was sleeping in the room next to him, yet she looked at him with the polite, distant eyes of a stranger. He felt like a ghost haunting his own home. One evening, he sat alone in the dark kitchen and wept the third time he had ever cried in his entire life. The first had been tears of pure joy on your wedding day when he saw you walking the aisle. the second had been out of terror when the ER doctor told him a car had struck you. and now, he was crying simply because he missed his wife so damn much

His phone offered no help either. his gallery was filled entirely with candid photos he had taken of you you stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your head, you laughing in a department store dressing room, or a hilarious picture of you biting into a raw lemon and making a completely disgusted face. He had no photos of the two of you together on his device, you had always been the one insisted on keeping the physical, printed albums. The only joint photos he could find were a few faded, wrinkled prints from your high school days, showing a younger, wilder version of himself wrapping his arms around you from behind while you laughed into the camera. When he showed them to you, you just stared at them blankly. It was killing him.

At the end of the third week, Sukuna was sitting heavily on the living room sofa, completely exhausted after another failed search through the house. He was mindlessly scrolling through the candid photos of you on his phone, a faint, melancholy smile touching his lips. His fingers traced your face on the photo, your bright smile. your bubbly laughter at his most unfunniset jokes, now all of that are vanished.

The heavy front door clicked open. Shoko had taken you out for an afternoon of shopping to get you out of the house, and she had just dropped you off at the curb. You stepped into the foyer, balancing several shopping bags in your arms.

Sukuna instantly locked his phone, shoving it into his pocket as he stood up, his red eyes drinking in the sight of you. "Had fun, princess?"

"Yes, I did. And thank you... for letting me use your credit card" you said softly, walking over to the coffee table and gently sliding the black card back toward him.

"You bought dresses?" he asked, pointing toward the bags. Honestly, he didn't give a single fuck about the money. you could have emptied his entire bank account and he would have gladly signed it away just to see you happy.

"I bought a few things..." You cleared your throat nervously, your fingers twisting together. "But... I actually bought something for you, too."

The words hit his chest like a physical blow. Even with her mind completely wiped, your beautiful, kind soul was still looking out for him. "Really?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Can I see it?"

You gave a small nod, walking over to the couch and tentatively sitting down right next to him. The close proximity made his heart start to hammer against his ribs like a trapped bird.

"I don't know if it's really your style, or if you'll even like it..." you mumbled bashfully, reaching into a small velvet pouch and pulling out a heavy, intricately braided silver bracelet studded with raw, brilliant red stones. "The color... it just immediately reminded me of you. Of your eyes."

You gently reached out, grasping his massive, calloused wrist to drape the metal over his skin. Oh God, if you only knew how fast his heart was racing beneath his chest. Your soft, warm fingers lingering against his pulse point was pure, exquisite torture.

"It looks incredible, Y/n. Thank you." he whispered, a genuine, breathtakingly soft smile spreading across his tattooed face as he looked down at the crimson stones.

"Thank you... for being so incredibly patient with me" you said quietly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Sukuna let out a long, ragged sigh, his hand hovering over yours for a fraction of a second before he pulled back. "I will always be patient with you, princess. Always."

You looked directly into his burning red eyes, and for the first time in three weeks, a warm, genuine smile broke across your face. Sukuna felt his breath hitch. he was entirely certain he was about to pass out from the sheer weight of his love for you.

"Can you stay right here for a bit? I need to go jump in the shower real quick. I'll be fast" he muttered hoarsely, his hand instinctively reaching out to gently ruffle your hair a comforting, domestic habit he had carefully maintained. You let out a soft chuckle at the gesture.

The moment his heavy footsteps disappeared up the stairs and the sound of running water echoed through the pipes, you stood up, wandering aimlessly around the quiet main floor. Your feet pulled you toward the small, cozy library nestled just off the living room. The walls were lined with hundreds of books some ancient leather volumes, others modern art textbooks. You pulled one off the shelf, flipping through the pages before sliding it back into place.

As you stepped back, your eyes caught a glimpse of something hidden on the absolute highest shelf, shoved far back into the shadows near the ceiling. It looked like a massive, heavy frame leaning flat against the back wall, obscured by a decorative ceramic vase. Intrigued, you stood on your tiptoes, stretching your arms up as high as they could go, blindly reaching for the top edge of the wooden frame.

Your fingers caught the molding, but as you pulled, the heavy ceramic vase shifted, losing its balance.

Crash!

The vase shattered against the hardwood floor with a deafening, echoing smash. Startled, you let out a sharp cry, stumbling backward as the massive hidden frame came tumbling down from the top shelf, striking the edge of the desk before landing flat on the rug. The backing of the frame split completely open upon impact, and a massive cascade of loose, glossy photographs erupted across the floor hundreds of them, scattering like playing cards across the room.

You gasped, placing a hand over your racing heart as you looked away from the broken pottery, your eyes drifting down to the sea of images covering the floor.

You froze.

Right at your feet lay a massive, professionally printed portrait. In the photograph, you were sitting securely on Sukuna's lap. You were wearing a breathtaking, flowing white lace wedding dress, holding a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers, and laughing so brightly your eyes were crinkled shut. Sukuna was clad in a sharp, tailored black tuxedo, his massive arms wrapped fiercely around your waist from behind, an absolutely massive, unbothered, triumphant grin plastered across his face.

Your breath hitched violently. You stumbled forward, falling to your knees as your hands frantically snatched up another photo from the pile. In this one, you were hoisted high up on Sukuna's broad shoulders at a crowded, flashing outdoor music festival; your mouth was wide open in a breathless scream of laughter, while his large hands were clamped firmly around your thighs to keep you safe, both of your faces painted with pure, unadulterated euphoria.

You grabbed a third photo, and the entire world stopped spinning. It was a quiet, intimate shot taken right in the backyard garden outside. You were sitting cross-legged on the green grass, wearing a simple summer dress with a soft, shy smile, while Sukuna’s heavy head was resting completely in your lap. He was looking up at you with an expression of such pure, unconditional adoration it made your soul ache, while your fingers were woven gently through his soft pink hair.

Pink hair.

The backyard.

The jazz music.

The napkin.

A sudden, violent explosion of memories ripped through the barriers of your mind. It wasn't a trickle; it was a catastrophic, roaring tidal wave. Seven years of laughter, fierce arguments, passionate late-night apologies, the smell of his skin, the exact weight of his body pressing you into the master mattress, the sound of his deep voice whispering "I've got you, princess" into the dark. It all hit your brain at once with the force of a freight train.

The sheer, overwhelming velocity of the memories made the room spin violently. Your vision blurred into a vortex of white light and crimson eyes. You let out a choked gasp, your strength entirely giving out as your body collapsed sideways onto the hardwood floor with a loud, heavy thud, the scattered photographs of your life pooling around your unconscious form.

When you finally opened your eyes again, the harsh glare of the ceiling lights was gone, replaced by the warm, dim ambiance of the living room. You were laying flat on the soft fabric of the sofa.

"She's waking up! Sukuna, look, her eyes are moving!" Yuji’s panicked, loud voice cut through the quiet room.

You blinked heavily, your vision slowly focusing. Megumi was standing right beside his cousin, his dark eyes wide and completely swimming with anxiety. Shoko was hovering over you, a small medical flashlight in her hand, her face pale as she checked your vitals.

But your heart didn't care about any of them. Your eyes frantically scanned the tight circle of people, instantly landing on the massive, tattooed man standing frozen at the foot of the couch. His pastel pink hair was damp from the shower, his chest heaving under a plain black t-shirt, and his face was a mask of pure, absolute terror.

As your eyes met his, a single, heavy tear spilled over your eyelid, tracing a hot path down your cheek. The vast, terrifying void in your mind was completely gone, replaced by the roaring, beautiful fire of your reality.

"Ryo..." you choked out, your voice a broken, breathless sob.

Sukuna froze, his entire frame visibly violently shuddering at the sound of the nickname the private, intimate name only you were ever allowed to call him.

Before anyone else could even blink, you threw yourself forward off the sofa cushions, completely ignoring the dull ache in your muscles. You lunged straight into his space, your arms wrapping fiercely around his massive neck. You buried your face in the crook of his collarbone, gripping the fabric of his shirt with a desperate, white-knuckled intensity as you pressed a hard, crying kiss directly against his tattooed jaw.

"I remember... us" you sobbed violently into his skin, your entire body trembling as the tears flowed freely. "I remember everything, Ryo... I remember you."

Sukuna’s mind completely blanked. For a single, breathless second, he couldn't even process the words. And then, a raw, ragged sound escaped his throat a mixture of a sob and a laugh. His massive, powerful arms came crashing down around your frame, pulling you so close against his chest you could barely breathe, lifting your knees entirely off the floor as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

And there, in the middle of his living room, surrounded by his family and the scattered photographs of your love, Ryomen Sukuna closed his eyes and wept for the fourth time in his life.

"I fucking love you" he whispers

(not me me writing all night just for 36 like and one reblog😣🙏🏾)

[stwryun]

COCKWARMING ❜ 전원 .ᐟ.ᐟ 💭

[ open ] written for the 💌 𓂂 𓏸 love, always. event !

🪷 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ✶ enha members reaction to you initiating cockwarming with them

◟✿ 𝓜𝐮𝐬𝐞 ─── enhypen x reader ⋆ 🐰 🩰 🏹𓂂 ˳ׄ 💡

◟✿ forewarning ˒ strong language, praise kink, dirty talk, possessiveness, teasing, hickeys, cockwarming, penetration, vaginal sex, fingering, kissing, orgasms, nipple play, size kink, unprotected sex

◟✿ heesung ˒ The dorm was wrapped in that late night hush, the kind that only came after long practices and schedules that stretched into the early hours. The faint hum of the air conditioner mixed with the distant city sounds filtering through the window. Heeseung had just showered, towel still draped around his neck, droplets of water tracing lazy paths down his toned chest and abs as he stepped into the bedroom. His hair was damp, messy in that effortlessly sexy way, and he wore nothing but loose black sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

You were already in his bed, wearing only his favorite oversized black shirt that barely reached mid thigh. The moment he closed the door behind him, you moved.You rose to your knees, caught his wrist, and pulled him down onto the mattress with you. Heeseung let out a soft, surprised chuckle, his deep voice rumbling.“Missed me that bad, baby?” he murmured, settling back against the pillows as you climbed over him.

But you didn’t answer with words. Instead, your hand slipped into his sweatpants, wrapping around his half hard length. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a second as you stroked him slowly to full hardness. Within moments he was thick and heavy in your palm, veins pulsing under your fingers. You pushed his waistband down just enough, positioned yourself over him, and sank down in one smooth, deliberate motion.

Heeseung’s cock stretched you open, filling you completely until your ass rested against his thighs, every inch buried deep inside your warm, wet heat. No thrusts no bouncing just staying perfectly still with him sheathed to the hilt.

“Fuck—” Heeseung’s voice broke into a low groan, his hands flying to your hips instantly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as if to ground himself. His eyes widened, dark and intense, locking onto yours with that signature leader intensity. His chest rose and fell rapidly, breath already ragged. “Y/N you’re so fucking warm so tight around me right now.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sounds were your mingled breathing and the faint wet sound of your bodies adjusting to each other. Heeseung’s cock twitched hard inside you, thickening even more at the sudden enveloping heat. You could feel every ridge, every vein, the way his pulse beat steadily against your inner walls. Your own pussy fluttered involuntarily around him, clenching and releasing in little pulses that made his jaw tighten.

Heeseung’s hands slid up under the shirt you wore his shirt—tracing the curve of your waist, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “You initiating this?” he whispered, voice dropping into that dangerously low register that always sent shivers down your spine. A slow, predatory smirk tugged at his lips, the one that made fans scream and made your stomach twist with want. “No warning, just sliding down on my cock like you own it my greedy girl I love it.”

He pulled you closer until your chests pressed together, your nipples hardening against him through the thin fabric. His lips found your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, sucking gently at your pulse point. Every tiny shift of your body caused delicious friction—his cock nudging deeper without any real thrusting. Heeseung let out a shaky exhale against your skin.

“Stay still like this for me,” he murmured, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. “I want to feel everything how wet you’re getting how you’re squeezing me.” He flexed his hips in the tiniest circle, barely perceptible, but enough to make you both gasp. “Shit, you feel incredible like velvet fire around my cock.”

Minutes stretched out. Heeseung was always patient in moments like this teasing, savoring, drawing out the pleasure until it bordered on torture. He kept you locked in place with strong arms, his body heat mingling with yours. His free hand roamed lazily: squeezing your ass, tracing your spine, rolling a nipple between his fingers until you whimpered softly. Each sound you made earned you a deep, appreciative groan from him.

“You’re dripping down my balls already,” he observed in that husky tone, voice vibrating against your ear. He reached between your bodies just enough to feel where you were joined, collecting some of your slick on his fingers and bringing them to his mouth. His eyes never left yours as he licked them clean. “Taste so sweet for me all this just from having me inside you?”

The praise made you clench harder around him. Heeseung’s head fell back against the pillow, exposing the sharp line of his jaw and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed thickly. “That’s it keep doing that. Milk my cock while we stay like this.” His restraint was impressive, but you could feel the tension coiling in his muscles—the way his thighs trembled slightly beneath you, the constant subtle twitches of his length buried deep.

He kissed you then—slow, deep, and filthy. His tongue slid against yours in the same unhurried rhythm he used when he wanted to drive you crazy. One hand stayed on your hip, holding you down firmly so you couldn’t ride him even if you tried. The other tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected your lips for a second.

“I’ve thought about this,” he confessed quietly, forehead pressed to yours. “Coming home and having you warm my cock while we talk about our day feeling you pulse around me for hours.” His voice was pure velvet. “You’re perfect so fucking perfect for me.”

Time blurred ten minutes fifteen twenty. Heeseung kept up the intimate conversation, whispering filthy observations mixed with sweet nothings. How your walls fluttered when he praised you. How he could feel you getting wetter with every passing second. How much he loved being this connected, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. Occasionally he’d roll his hips in minute movements just enough to grind against that sensitive spot inside you without breaking the cockwarming stillness.

Your breathing grew heavier, matching his. Sweat began to bead on his chest where your bodies pressed together. Heeseung’s eyes were half lidded, dark with lust, but there was also that soft affection he reserved only for you the way he stroked your cheek with his thumb, the gentle kisses he pressed to your temple.

“You’re shaking,” he noted with a soft laugh, the sound low and affectionate. “Am I that deep, baby? Filling you up so good you can’t even think?” He flexed again, deliberately this time, making his cock jump inside you. The sensation drew a broken moan from your throat. Heeseung’s smirk widened. “Good girl let me hear you.”

The tension built unbearably. Your clit throbbed against his pelvis, aching for friction, but he kept you pinned, savoring the slow burn. Heeseung’s breathing was ragged now, control fraying at the edges. His hands gripped you tighter, almost bruising.

“I don’t know how much longer I can stay still,” he admitted, voice strained. “You feel too fucking good so hot and tight sucking me in like you never want me to leave.” He kissed you again, harder this time, more desperate. His hips gave a small, involuntary thrust upward, pushing him impossibly deeper.

You clenched hard in response, and Heeseung groaned loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Fuck, do that again.” When you did, his resolve cracked. He rolled you both suddenly, still connected, pinning you beneath his larger frame without ever pulling out. The new position let him press even deeper, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly, elbows braced on either side of your head. His damp hair fell forward, framing his handsome face. “I need to move now need to fuck you properly after feeling you warm me for so long.”

What followed was intense. Heeseung started with slow, deep thrusts pulling out just enough to feel your walls drag along his length before sliding back home. Each stroke was deliberate, savoring the glide. His pace gradually increased, hips snapping with controlled power. The wet sounds of your bodies meeting filled the room, mixed with his low grunts and your moans.

“You started this,” he panted against your neck, biting down gently. “Taking my cock like that the second I walked in such a naughty girl.” One hand slipped between you, thumb circling your clit in tight spirals. “Come for me while I’m inside you want to feel you fall apart around my cock.”

The orgasm hit you hard, walls spasming violently around him. Heeseung cursed, burying his face in your shoulder as he fucked you through it, prolonging the pleasure. His own release followed soon after deep, powerful thrusts that pushed him to the hilt as he spilled inside you, groaning your name in that beautiful, wrecked voice.

Afterwards, he didn’t pull out immediately. Heeseung stayed buried deep, collapsing half on top of you with his weight comforting rather than crushing. He pressed soft kisses to your face, your lips, your eyelids, whispering praises.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “I love when you take control like that. Love feeling so close to you.” His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as you both came down, still intimately connected. The afterglow stretched long, warm, and full of quiet affection.

Heeseung eventually shifted to lie on his side, pulling you with him so you stayed spooned together, his cock softening but still nestled inside you. “We’re sleeping like this tonight,” he decided with a sleepy, satisfied smile. “Don’t want to lose this feeling.”

The room grew quiet again, filled only with your synced breathing and the occasional soft kiss. Heeseung held you like you were the most precious thing in his world leader, lover, and the man who had just been completely undone by your bold initiation.

◟✿ jay ˒ The living room in the dorm was dimly lit, the only light coming from the large TV screen paused on Jay’s game. The rest of the members had gone to bed or out, leaving the space quiet except for the low hum of the city outside and the occasional click of the controller. Jay was sprawled on the wide couch in black sweatpants and a loose white tee, one arm draped over the backrest, looking effortlessly handsome with his sharp jawline and focused dark eyes. His hair was slightly tousled from running his fingers through it during the match.

You had been watching him from the doorway for a few minutes, heat pooling low in your belly at the sight of his relaxed posture and the way the fabric of his sweats outlined his thighs. Without warning, you crossed the room, climbed onto the couch, and straddled his lap. Jay’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a small smirk already forming on his lips.

“Hey, what’s—?” he started, but the words died when your hand slipped inside his waistband, pulling his cock free. He was already half hard from the way you’d been looking at him earlier. You stroked him firmly a few times until he was fully erect thick, veined, and heavy in your grip then positioned yourself and sank down in one smooth, deliberate motion.

Jay’s cock stretched you open deliciously, filling every inch until you were seated flush against him, his length buried to the hilt inside your tight, wet cunt. No movement just pure cockwarming.

“Shit—!” Jay’s head slammed back against the couch cushions, a sharp groan tearing from his throat. His hands shot to your waist instantly, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. His eyes flew open wide, dark and blown with lust as he stared at you in shock and raw hunger. “Y/N… fuck, you just— you took me all the way in like that?”

His voice was rough, that slight American accent thickening with arousal. For several long seconds, he didn’t move, simply breathing through the overwhelming sensation of your walls enveloping him completely—hot, slick, and pulsing around his cock. You could feel him twitch and swell even thicker inside you, the head pressing firmly against your deepest point.

Jay let out a shaky, impressed laugh, his chest rising and falling rapidly under you. “Bold as hell initiating cockwarming right in the middle of my game? You’re something else, princess.” His hands slid down to grip your ass possessively, squeezing the soft flesh as he adjusted his posture slightly, spreading his thighs wider so you sank even deeper. The new angle made both of you moan softly.

He looked down between your joined bodies where you were connected, then slowly dragged his gaze back up to your face. “You’re so fucking wet already. I can feel it dripping down my balls.” Jay’s voice dropped lower, husky and teasing. One hand slipped under the hem of the oversized shirt you wore his shirt again and traced up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “No warning just sliding that pretty pussy down on my cock and staying there. You missed me that much huh ?”

You stayed perfectly still, savoring the intimate fullness. Jay’s cock throbbed steadily inside you, matching his quickened heartbeat. He pulled you closer until your chests pressed together, his lips finding yours in a slow, deep kiss that quickly turned filthy. His tongue explored your mouth with the same controlled intensity he brought to everything precise, overwhelming, leaving you breathless.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “We’re doing this properly then,” he murmured, voice vibrating against your skin. “Stay right there don’t move.” His restraint was impressive he didn’t thrust up into you despite the obvious need. Instead, he focused on the connection, rolling his hips in tiny, lazy circles that created the barest friction enough to make your walls flutter around him without breaking the cockwarming stillness.

“God, you feel incredible,” Jay whispered, lips brushing your ear. “So warm and tight… like you were made to warm my cock like this.” His hands roamed everywhere cupping your breasts through the shirt, thumbs circling your hardening nipples until you whimpered. He pinched lightly, drawing a gasp from you that made his cock jump inside your heat. “That’s it squeeze me just like that I want to feel every little pulse.”

The minutes stretched deliciously. Jay was vocal, whispering a constant stream of praise and filth in that low, accented tone that always melted you. “You’re getting wetter every second. Soaking my sweats already.” He reached between you, fingers grazing where you were stretched around him, collecting your slick before bringing it to your lips. “Taste how much you want this.” His eyes darkened as you sucked his fingers clean.

He kissed along your jaw, down your neck, sucking marks into your skin while staying buried deep. Every tiny shift of your body earned a quiet curse from him. “Fuck, princess you’re clenching so hard. Trying to pull me even deeper?” Jay’s self-control was fraying at the edges you could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his abs flexed under you but he held you firmly in place, one arm wrapped around your waist like a steel band.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he confessed between kisses, voice rough. “Practice was long, but coming home to this? You sinking down on me and keeping me warm best surprise ever.” He flexed deliberately, making his cock nudge against that sensitive spot inside you. The sensation drew a broken moan from your throat. Jay smirked against your neck. “Sensitive there, huh? Good. I want you aching for me while we stay like this.”

Fifteen minutes passed twenty. Jay kept the slow burn going, alternating between deep kisses and soft, affectionate ones. His hands never stopped moving—stroking your back, squeezing your thighs, occasionally tilting your hips just enough to grind subtly. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, his white tee clinging slightly to his chest. The room felt hotter, thicker with tension.

“You’re trembling,” he observed, pulling back to look at you with those intense eyes. A cocky, affectionate smile tugged at his lips. “Am I too big like this? Stretching you so full you can’t think straight?” He rolled his hips again in that maddeningly small motion. “I could stay buried in you for hours. Just feeling how perfect you are around me.”

Your clit throbbed against his pelvis, desperate for more friction, but Jay kept you pinned, drawing out the anticipation. His breathing grew ragged, control slipping. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold back,” he admitted, voice strained. “You feel too fucking good. Hot, wet, squeezing my cock like you never want me to leave.”

He kissed you harder then, more desperate, tongue sliding against yours as his hips gave a small involuntary thrust. The movement pushed him impossibly deeper, making you both groan loudly. Jay’s hands gripped your ass tighter. “Fuck it,” he growled softly.

In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back on the couch without pulling out, his body covering yours. The new position let him press even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. Jay braced himself on his elbows, staring down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice low and authoritative. His damp hair fell forward as he started moving—slow, deep thrusts at first, pulling out just enough to feel your walls drag along every inch before sliding back home. The wet, obscene sounds of your bodies meeting filled the living room.

“You started this,” Jay panted, snapping his hips harder. “Taking my cock the second you wanted it such a greedy princess.” One hand slipped between you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight, perfect circles. “Come on my cock. Want to feel you fall apart while I’m still so deep inside you.”

The pleasure built fast and intense. Your orgasm crashed over you, walls spasming violently around his thick length. Jay cursed loudly, fucking you through it with powerful, controlled strokes. “That’s it—fuck, just like that. So good for me.”

His own release followed soon after. Jay buried himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he came deep inside you with a low, guttural groan of your name. You felt every pulse, every spurt of warmth filling you.

Afterwards, Jay didn’t pull out right away. He collapsed half on top of you, careful not to crush you, and pressed soft, lazy kisses to your lips, your cheeks, your forehead. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, voice hoarse and satisfied. “Love when you take what you want like that.”

He stayed nestled inside you as he shifted you both to a more comfortable position on the couch, spooning you against his chest. His arms wrapped around you protectively, one hand gently stroking your thigh. “We’re staying like this for a while longer,” he decided with a lazy, content smile. “Don’t want to lose this feeling yet.”

The TV remained paused and forgotten. Jay nuzzled into your neck, whispering sweet nothings mixed with more praise as the afterglow settled over both of you—warm, intimate, and full of quiet affection. His cock softened slowly inside you, but he made no move to separate, content to keep you connected as long as possible.

◟✿ jake ˒ The bedroom was softly lit by a single bedside lamp, casting a warm golden glow over the rumpled sheets. Jake had just returned from a late dance practice, his body tired but still buzzing with leftover energy. He was lying on his back in bed, shirtless in just a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, one arm slung over his eyes as he tried to unwind. His messy brown hair was damp with sweat, and his toned abs rose and fell with steady breaths. The faint scent of his body wash—clean and slightly citrusy lingered in the air.

You had been waiting for him, heart racing with anticipation. The moment he settled in, you moved quietly, climbing onto the bed and straddling his lap without a word. Jake stirred, lifting his arm with a sleepy, affectionate smile. “Hey, baby missed y—”

The words cut off in a sharp inhale as your hand slipped into his sweatpants, freeing his cock. He was already semi hard from the casual closeness, and a few strokes had him fully erect thick, long, and flushed. You positioned yourself over him and sank down slowly but deliberately, taking every inch until your hips met his and his cock was buried completely inside your tight, welcoming cunt.

Jake’s eyes flew open wide, a mix of shock and instant pleasure flashing across his handsome face. “Oh my god—babe!” His voice cracked beautifully, that bright Australian accent thickening with arousal. His hands shot to your thighs instantly, fingers gripping the soft flesh as his back arched slightly off the bed. “Fuck… you’re so warm so fucking warm and tight around me right now.”

For a long moment, he just stared up at you, lips parted, chest heaving. A bright blush crept up his neck and across his cheeks, but his eyes sparkled with pure lust and adoration. His cock twitched hard inside you, swelling even thicker as your walls fluttered and adjusted to his size. You could feel every ridge, every vein pulsing against your inner walls, the head pressed deep.

Jake let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, the sound warm and husky. “You just… slid down on me like that? No warning, nothing?” He bit his lip, eyes darkening as he looked down to where your bodies were joined. “Jesus, princess…you feel incredible like heaven. I love when you surprise me like this.”

His hands slid up your thighs to your waist, pulling you down flush against him so your chests pressed together. The oversized shirt you wore his, of course rode up, and he slipped his hands underneath, palms warm and slightly calloused from practice as they roamed your bare skin. “Stay like this,” he whispered, voice already rough. “Don’t move yet. I want to feel all of you every little squeeze.”

Jake was affectionate even in the filthiest moments. He pulled you into a deep kiss slow and sweet at first, full of that warmth, then growing more heated as his tongue tangled with yours. His hips gave one tiny, involuntary roll, nudging deeper without breaking the stillness. The sensation drew matching gasps from both of you.

“You’re already so wet,” he murmured against your lips, forehead resting against yours. “I can feel it. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? My sweet girl initiating cockwarming the second I get home.” His smile was bright and playful, but his voice carried that low, needy edge. One hand cupped the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair while the other squeezed your ass possessively, holding you in place.

He stayed perfectly still for long minutes, savoring the intimate connection. His cock throbbed steadily inside your heat, and every time your walls clenched around him whether from pleasure or on purpose he let out a soft, wrecked groan. “That’s it… just like that keep pulsing around me. Feels so good, baby.”

Jake’s hands never stopped moving gentle but exploratory. He traced your spine under the shirt, cupped your breasts and rolled your nipples between his fingers until they pebbled. He kissed everywhere he could reach your lips, your jaw, the sensitive spot beneath your ear, your collarbone. Between kisses, he whispered constant praise in that addictive accent.

“You’re so perfect for me. So tight and hot like you were made to warm my cock.” He flexed deliberately inside you, making his length jump and nudge that sweet spot. The tiny movement sent sparks through both of you. “Mmm, hear that little whimper? I love it love how full you feel with me inside.”

The cockwarming stretched on Jake’s usual playful energy mixed with deepening desire. Sweat began to glisten on his chest where your bodies were pressed together. His breathing grew heavier, but he held you firmly, refusing to let you ride him yet. “Not yet,” he’d murmur with a teasing grin whenever you shifted. “I want to enjoy this a little longer. Just feeling you around me… so wet and snug.”

He reached between your bodies once, fingers grazing your stretched folds where you took him so deeply. Collecting some of your slick, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, eyes locked on yours the entire time. “Tastes so sweet all this because my cock is buried in you? God, I’m lucky.”

Your clit throbbed against his pelvis, aching for friction, but Jake kept the slow burn alive. He rolled his hips in maddeningly small circles barely any movement, but enough to grind subtly and keep the pleasure building. “You’re shaking already,” he observed softly, affection clear in his voice. “Am I that deep, baby? Stretching you so good you’re trembling on top of me?”

The tension coiled tighter. Jake’s control was fraying despite his sweet demeanor. His thighs tensed beneath you, abs flexing as he fought the urge to thrust. “I don’t think I can stay still much longer,” he admitted, voice strained and husky. “You feel too fucking amazing. Hot, wet, squeezing me like you never want me to pull out.”

He kissed you desperately then, tongue sliding deep as his hips gave a small involuntary buck. The movement pushed him impossibly deeper, drawing loud moans from both of you. Jake’s hands gripped your hips tighter. “Fuck… okay, I need you.”

In one smooth motion, he rolled you both over without pulling out, settling on top while staying fully sheathed. The new position let gravity press him even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. Jake braced himself on his elbows, messy hair falling forward as he looked down at you with bright, lust-filled eyes and that heart-melting smile.

“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he whispered, starting to move slow, deep thrusts at first. He pulled back just enough for your walls to drag along his length before sliding home again, the wet sounds of your connection filling the quiet room. His pace was enthusiastic and passionate, exactly like Jake—full of energy and focus on your pleasure.

“You started this,” he panted, lips brushing yours between thrusts. “Climbing on me and taking my cock so perfectly such a good girl.” One hand slipped between you, thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing perfect, tight circles in time with his strokes. “Come for me while I’m this deep. Want to feel you milking my cock.”

The orgasm hit you hard and fast, walls spasming violently around his thick cock. Jake groaned loudly, the sound raw and beautiful as he fucked you through it, hips snapping with controlled power. “Yes—fuck, just like that. So tight, baby so perfect.”

His own climax followed soon after. Jake buried himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he came deep inside you with a long, throaty moan of your name. You felt every pulse, every warm spurt filling you as he trembled above you.

Afterwards, Jake didn’t pull out. He collapsed gently on top of you, careful with his weight, and buried his face in your neck. Soft, lazy kisses peppered your skin your shoulder, your jaw, your lips. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, voice hoarse and full of affection. “I love when you take initiative like that feeling you warm me… best way to end the night.”

He shifted carefully, pulling you with him so you were spooned against his chest, his cock still nestled softly inside you. His arms wrapped around you securely, one hand gently stroking your thigh and hip. “We’re staying like this,” he decided with a sleepy, satisfied grin, nuzzling into your hair. “Don’t want to lose this closeness yet feels too good to let go”

The room fell into comfortable quiet, filled with your synced breathing and occasional soft whispers. Jake pressed gentle kisses to the back of your neck, murmuring how much he loved you, how perfect you felt, how he could stay connected like this forever. His body heat enveloped you, the afterglow warm and lingering as you both drifted toward sleep intimately joined, content, and utterly satisfied.

◟✿ sunghoon ˒ The dorm’s private gym corner in the basement level was quiet and dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a single overhead LED strip that cast cool, bluish tones across the mirrored walls. Sunghoon had stayed back after the others left, working on his core strength and flexibility routines that kept his figure skating precision sharp even in idol life. Sweat glistened on his skin, his black tank top clinging to his lean, sculpted torso and his loose training shorts riding low on his narrow hips. His dark hair was damp, pushed back from his forehead, and his sharp jaw was set in concentration as he finished a set of planks, breathing controlled and steady.

You had slipped down quietly to find him, drawn by the low sounds of his exertion. The air smelled of clean sweat and the faint citrus of his post workout spray. Without announcing yourself, you waited until he rolled onto his back to stretch his hip flexors, legs bent and slightly apart. That was your moment. You moved swiftly, straddling his waist and tugging his shorts and briefs down just enough to free his cock.

Sunghoon’s eyes snapped open, dark and intense, as your hand stroked him quickly to full hardness long, thick, and curving slightly upward. Before he could form a question, you lined him up and sank down in one fluid, deliberate glide, enveloping every inch until you were fully seated, your ass flush against his pelvis. His cock was buried to the hilt inside your slick heat.

A sharp hiss escaped Sunghoon’s lips, his hands instinctively flying to your hips, fingers pressing hard into your skin. His usual cool, princely composure shattered in an instant. “Y/N—” His voice came out strained, lower than usual, almost a growl. His eyes widened, pupils dilating rapidly as the overwhelming sensation hit him your walls hugging him so tightly, so warmly, pulsing around his length without any movement.

He stayed frozen beneath you for several heartbeats, chest heaving, abs contracting visibly under the tank top. The position him on his back on the cool gym mat, you perched perfectly on his cock made everything feel impossibly deep. “You… you really just took me like that? Right here?” Surprise laced his tone, but it quickly melted into dark arousal. A faint blush colored his sharp cheekbones, contrasting his typically icy visuals.

Sunghoon’s hands trembled slightly as they gripped you, holding you down so neither of you could shift. His cock throbbed powerfully inside your pussy, swelling thicker at the sudden intimate embrace. You could feel every ridge, the subtle curve pressing against your front wall, his heartbeat pulsing through the vein along his shaft. The mirrored walls around you reflected the scene back endlessly your bodies joined, his long legs stretched out beneath you.

“Fuck… you’re burning hot around me,” he whispered, voice husky and amazed. He licked his lips, gaze dropping to where you were stretched so obscenely around him. One hand slid up your thigh, pushing the hem of your thin dress higher, exposing more skin. “No prep, no talking… just sinking onto my cock after my workout so fucking bold tonight.”

Sunghoon didn’t immediately pull you down for kisses. He was more visual, more sensory. He kept you upright on him, eyes roaming your body as he adjusted his breathing. His fingers traced slow patterns on your thighs, then higher, thumbs brushing dangerously close to your clit without touching. The stillness amplified everything the faint twitch of his cock, the way your walls fluttered in response, the shared heat building between your connected bodies.

“Stay exactly like this,” he commanded softly, that deep, velvety tone sending shivers through you. He flexed his hips in the tiniest upward tilt, barely noticeable but enough to nudge deeper, drawing a gasp from both of you. “I want to feel how wet you get just from holding me inside. Look at the mirror.” He nodded toward the wall. “Watch how perfectly you take me.”

You both turned your heads. The reflection was erotic Sunghoon’s lean, powerful body beneath you, sweat making his skin glow, his cock disappearing into your body. He groaned low at the sight, his free hand reaching to squeeze your ass, spreading you slightly for a better view. “So tight gripping me like you’re afraid I’ll disappear. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Minutes passed in charged silence broken only by soft breaths. Sunghoon was masterful at restraint years of skating discipline showing in how he held perfectly still while his body screamed for friction. But he wasn’t silent. He murmured observations in that precise, low voice, each word dripping with lust.

“Your pussy is dripping down my shaft already. I can feel it coating my balls.” He shifted one leg slightly, bending his knee to change the angle just enough to press against a new spot inside you. The subtle movement made you clench hard. Sunghoon’s head tipped back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as he swallowed thickly. “Again do that again.”

You obeyed, and he rewarded you with a rare, devastating smile half smirk, half genuine pleasure. His hands moved with purpose now one staying on your hip to anchor you, the other slipping under your dress to cup your breast, rolling the nipple between cool fingers. “Sensitive tonight. Everything feels heightened because we’re not moving, doesn’t it?” He pinched lightly, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every reaction.

The cockwarming dragged on deliciously. Sweat from his workout mixed with new beads of arousal on his skin. The gym mat stuck slightly to his back, but he didn’t care. Sunghoon’s usual aloofness cracked further with every passing second his breathing grew ragged, and his thighs tensed beneath you like coiled springs.

“You’re so warm and slick it’s driving me insane,” he confessed, voice breaking into a whisper. He reached up, pulling you down until your chests met, but still no real thrusting. Instead, he wrapped both arms around your waist, holding you impossibly close. His lips finally found your neck—not soft kisses, but deliberate, sucking bites that would leave faint marks. “I train for hours to stay controlled, but you come in here and undo all of it in seconds.”

He guided your head to his shoulder, letting you feel his rapid heartbeat against your cheek while his cock continued its constant, throbbing presence inside you. Every tiny involuntary clench from you earned a quiet curse or a sharp inhale. Sunghoon’s hand trailed down your back, fingers dancing along your spine before gripping your ass again, spreading you wider in the reflection.

“Look how deep I am,” he murmured, voice dark. “You’re taking all of me so well my perfect girl.” The praise was sparse but potent, delivered in that intensity. He flexed again, this time holding the tension longer, letting his curved tip grind subtly against your g-spot without pulling out. The pressure built unbearably, your clit aching where it pressed against his pelvis.

Your whimpers grew louder. Sunghoon’s control finally frayed. “I can’t… I need to feel more.” In a swift, powerful move, he rolled you both sideways on the mat, keeping his cock fully sheathed. Now on your sides facing each other, legs tangled, he hooked one of your thighs over his hip. The new angle allowed even deeper penetration, his body curving into yours.

Sunghoon stared into your eyes, foreheads nearly touching. “You initiated this. Now take what comes next.” He began moving—slow, rolling thrusts that never fully withdrew, keeping the connection intimate and constant. Each stroke was precise, controlled, hitting every sensitive spot with skater-like grace and power. The wet, slick sounds echoed softly in the empty gym space.

His hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, expert circles. “Come on my cock,” he demanded quietly, eyes never leaving yours. “I want to feel you squeeze me while I’m this deep.” The intensity built fast his lean muscles flexing, hips snapping with increasing force while still somehow maintaining that connected depth.

Your orgasm crashed over you suddenly, walls convulsing hard around his thick length. Sunghoon groaned, deep and guttural, fucking you through the waves with focused thrusts. “Yes… just like that so good—fuck.” His own release followed moments later. He buried himself as deep as possible, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, warm pulses filling you while he held you tight against him.

Afterwards, Sunghoon stayed inside, not pulling out. He rolled onto his back again, bringing you on top once more, his arms wrapped securely around you. His breathing slowed gradually, fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. The cool gym air contrasted with your heated bodies.

“That was unexpected,” he said softly, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. His voice regained some of its usual calm, but affection warmed it. “I like when you catch me off guard. Makes me feel alive.” He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple, then your lips lingering and tender.

He didn’t move to separate. Instead, he reached for a nearby towel, draping it over your joined lower bodies casually. “We’ll stay like this until I say otherwise. I’m not ready to lose how warm you feel yet.” His hand stroked your hair, the other resting possessively on your ass, keeping you pinned.

The mirrors reflected your entwined forms in the low light. Sunghoon’s usual aura softened into quiet intimacy. He whispered occasional praises how perfect you felt, how he’d think about this during his next practice while his cock softened slowly inside you, still nestled comfortably. The afterglow stretched long, the gym quiet except for your breathing, creating a private world just for the two of you.

Eventually, he helped you up carefully, still connected, and carried you toward the elevator back to the main dorm levels, your legs wrapped around him. “Shower together later?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow, already planning to extend the closeness.

◟✿ sunoo ˒ The soft glow of string lights wrapped around the headboard filled Sunoo’s room with a warm, pinkish hue, creating a cozy, almost dreamy atmosphere. It was well past midnight, and the rest of the dorm had settled into silence after a long day of rehearsals. Sunoo had been unwinding in his favorite way sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed, a fluffy blanket draped over his lap, humming softly to himself while applying a sheet mask to his face. His skin was dewy from the recent cleanse, and he wore a loose white tank top paired with soft black shorts that rode up his thighs. His hair was slightly tousled, falling cutely over his forehead, and his expressive eyes sparkled with that signature Sunoo brightness even as he relaxed.

You entered quietly, drawn by the gentle melody he was humming one of their upcoming tracks. He glanced up with a bright smile, peeling the edge of the mask. “Hey~ You’re still up? Come here, I’ll share the mask—” But you had other plans. You crawled onto the bed, gently pushing his shoulders back until he was propped against the pile of pillows. Before he could react fully, you tugged his shorts down just enough, revealing his smooth, pretty cock. A few teasing strokes had him hardening quickly elegant and sensitive, responding beautifully to your touch.

Sunoo’s eyes widened in surprise, the sheet mask crinkling as his mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. You straddled him smoothly, pulling your own sleep shorts aside, and sank down onto him in one slow, intentional glide. Inch by inch, you took him until he was fully nestled inside your warm, slick walls, your hips flush against his. Pure cockwarming—no immediate movement, just the intimate, throbbing connection.

“Ahh—! Y/N…” Sunoo’s voice came out in a breathy, melodic gasp, higher-pitched than usual with shock and pleasure. His hands flew to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your top as his whole body tensed beneath you. The sheet mask slipped slightly on his cheek, but he didn’t bother fixing it. His cheeks flushed a deep pink almost instantly, that adorable blush spreading down his neck. “You… you really just sat on me like that? While I’m doing skincare?” A soft, disbelieving giggle escaped him, mixing cuteness with growing arousal.

His cock twitched vividly inside you, thickening and pulsing as your heat enveloped him completely. You could feel every subtle ridge, the way he fit so perfectly, like he was made for this closeness. Sunoo’s breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling under the thin tank top. He stared up at you with those large, expressive doe eyes, a mix of playful shock and deep want shining through.

“Wow… you’re so warm and tight right now,” he whispered, voice turning husky yet still retaining that sweet, bell like quality. He bit his plush lower lip, trying to stay composed, but the way his thighs shifted slightly underneath you betrayed him. Instead of immediately pulling you down for kisses, Sunoo reached up and gently adjusted his sheet mask with one hand, the other staying firmly on your hip to hold you still.

He let out another soft laugh, but it dissolved into a quiet moan as your walls fluttered around him involuntarily. The position him half reclined against pillows, you fully seated in his lap under the pretty string lights felt intimate and almost romantic. Sunoo’s free hand trailed up your side, slipping under your top to caress your bare skin with feather light touches. “Don’t move yet, okay? Let me feel you all of you holding me like this.”

True to his playful nature, Sunoo kept the moment light even as heat built between you. He tilted his head, studying your face with sparkling eyes while staying perfectly still. His cock continued to throb steadily inside your pussy, the sensation amplified by the lack of movement. “It feels like you’re hugging me from the inside,” he murmured sweetly, then giggled again when you clenched on purpose. “That’s cheating but I like it.”

Minutes ticked by in this dreamy haze. Sunoo was vocal and affectionate, filling the quiet room with whispered compliments and little hums. He finally peeled the sheet mask off completely, tossing it aside, revealing his glowing skin. “Look at us,” he said, nodding toward the mirror across the room that reflected your connected forms under the soft lights. “You look so pretty on me like this so full.”

His hands explored gently tracing your curves, cupping your breasts through the fabric, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they peaked. Each touch was tender yet teasing, never rushing. He leaned forward slightly to nuzzle your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone while his hips remained motionless. The only “movement” came from subtle flexes—him deliberately pulsing his cock inside you, making you both gasp.

“You’re getting wetter I can feel it trickling down,” Sunoo observed in a hushed, almost reverent tone, his voice like velvet. “All because my cock is just sitting warm inside you? that’s so hot.” He sucked a small mark just below your ear, then pulled back to watch your reactions, his own face flushed and eyes half lidded with pleasure. The skincare scent mixed with the growing musk of arousal, creating an oddly intimate atmosphere unique to him.

Sunoo’s usual bright energy simmered into something deeper and needier. He started humming again softly a gentle melody that vibrated through his chest into yours while one hand slipped between your bodies without breaking the seal. His fingers hovered near your clit, teasing circles in the air just close enough to make you ache, but he didn’t touch fully yet. “Patience,” he teased with a cute pout, even as sweat beaded on his forehead. “I want to remember every second of you warming me so nicely.”

Your whimpers made his resolve waver. Sunoo’s breathing grew uneven, his plush lips parting as he fought the urge to thrust. “You feel too good so silky and hot. I could stay like this forever, just talking and feeling you squeeze me.” He finally cupped your face with both hands, pulling you into a slow, deep kiss. It was sweet at first then turned passionate, tongues gliding lazily in time with the subtle throbbing between your legs.

The tension coiled tighter. Sunoo’s thighs trembled beneath you, his lean body taut with restraint. “I’m trying so hard to be good,” he confessed against your mouth, voice breaking into a whine. “But you’re clenching so much it’s making me throb.” He rolled his hips in the smallest possible circle, grinding subtly against your front wall without pulling out. The motion drew a shared moan, the string lights casting shifting shadows across your skin.

Your clit pressed insistently against his pelvis, begging for friction. Sunoo noticed, his eyes darkening with desire while retaining that playful sparkle. “My baby needs more?” He finally let his fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, precise circles that matched the melody still humming in his throat. The dual sensation his cock buried deep and unmoving, plus the targeted touch pushed you closer to the edge.

Sunoo’s control snapped elegantly. “Okay I can’t hold back anymore.” With surprising strength, he shifted you both while staying fully sheathed, turning so you were on your back with him hovering above, still connected. The new angle let him press even deeper, his pretty face flushed and hovering close to yours. The blanket tangled around your legs, adding to the cozy mess.

He started moving slow, rolling thrusts that kept the intimacy intact, never fully withdrawing. Each stroke was graceful and rhythmic, like his dance moves translated into pleasure. “You started this surprise,” Sunoo panted softly, his voice melodic even now, “sinking onto me while I was masked up so naughty and cute.” His hips snapped a little sharper, hitting that perfect spot consistently.

One hand braced beside your head while the other continued teasing your clit. “Come for me like this,” he encouraged, eyes locked on yours with that intense yet loving gaze only. “I want to feel you pulse around my cock while it’s so deep.”

The orgasm washed over you in warm waves, your walls clamping down hard on his length. Sunoo moaned beautifully high and sweet fucking you through it with precise, passionate strokes. “Yes… ahh, just like that. You’re squeezing me so perfectly.” His own climax followed quickly, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside you with a long, breathy whimper of your name, filling you with warmth.

Afterwards, Sunoo stayed buried inside, collapsing gently onto you with his face tucked into your neck. He pressed dozens of tiny, affectionate kisses across your skin, giggling breathlessly. “That was amazing I didn’t expect my night to end like this, but I’m so happy.” His voice was soft and satisfied, full of that signature sunshine even post-orgasm.

He rolled carefully to the side, pulling you with him so you remained spooned together, his softening cock still nestled comfortably inside your heat. The string lights twinkled above as he wrapped both arms around you, one leg hooked over yours to keep you close. “We’re sleeping just like this,” he declared cutely, nuzzling your hair. “I don’t want to pull out yet. You feel too warm and nice like my personal heater.”

Sunoo continued humming softly, his fingers drawing hearts on your arm as the afterglow wrapped around you both. He whispered sweet praises how much he loved your boldness, how perfect the connection felt, how he’d smile thinking about this during tomorrow’s schedule. The room filled with quiet contentment, his bright personality making the filthy act feel loving and special. No rush to separate, just prolonged closeness under the pretty lights, bodies joined and hearts synced.

◟✿ jungwon ˒ The dorm’s small home office nook off the main living area was quiet under the soft glow of a desk lamp. It was deep into the night, long after the other members had retreated to their rooms. Jungwon, ever the responsible leader, sat at the wooden table with his laptop open, reviewing tomorrow’s schedule and scribbling notes on a notepad. He wore a simple black hoodie and gray sweat shorts, his dark hair slightly messy from running his fingers through it in concentration. His sharp, cat like eyes scanned the screen with focused intensity, but his shoulders carried that subtle tiredness only you could notice. A half empty mug of herbal tea sat beside him, steam long gone.

You had been watching him from the doorway, admiring the way he carried the weight of the group with such quiet grace. Without speaking, you approached from behind, sliding your arms around his shoulders first. Jungwon turned his head with a soft smile, about to greet you, but you moved faster. You slipped onto his lap facing him, straddling his thighs right there at the table. Before he could set his pen down, your hand dipped into his shorts, stroking his cock from soft to fully hard in quick, practiced motions thick, veined, and curving just right.

Jungwon’s breath hitched sharply. “Y/N, what are you—” The words dissolved into a low, surprised groan as you pushed his shorts aside and sank down onto him in one steady, deliberate motion. You took him all the way in, your slick walls enveloping every inch until you were fully seated in his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside your warm heat. No movement. Just cockwarming, right there at the desk with his laptop still glowing behind you.

His eyes widened, pupils blowing wide in the dim light. “Oh wow,” Jungwon breathed, his voice that perfect mix of youthful and commanding. His hands instinctively gripped your hips, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your oversized tee. He sat perfectly still, processing the sudden velvet grip surrounding him. His cock twitched powerfully inside you, swelling thicker as your pussy fluttered and adjusted around his length. You could feel the subtle curve pressing firmly against your front wall, his pulse beating steadily deep within.

For a long moment, Jungwon just stared at you, cheeks flushing a soft pink that contrasted his leader aura. A small, breathless chuckle escaped him, low and slightly disbelieving. “Right here? While I’m working on schedules?” His tone held fond exasperation, but his dark eyes gleamed with instant heat. “You really chose now to warm me like this so sudden and bold.”

He leaned back slightly in the chair, careful not to dislodge you, the wooden seat creaking softly under your combined weight. The new position him seated at the table, you fully impaled on his cock with your legs wrapped around his waist made everything feel incredibly intimate and risky, the open nook adding a thrill of possible discovery. Jungwon’s hands slid under your shirt, palms warm against your bare back as he pulled you closer until your chests touched. “You’re so wet already,” he murmured, voice dropping into a husky whisper. “Sliding down on me without any warning my sneaky kitten.”

Jungwon’s response was measured yet intensely focused. He didn’t thrust or grind immediately. Instead, he held you there, savoring the deep connection while his laptop screen dimmed behind you. His fingers traced slow, soothing circles on your lower back, then lower to cup your ass, holding you flush so not even a centimeter of his cock escaped your heat. “Stay still for me,” he said softly, almost like a gentle order. “I want to feel every pulse. How you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now.”

The cockwarming stretched in charged silence. Jungwon’s discipline as leader showed in his restraint he remained almost motionless, only allowing tiny, controlled flexes of his cock inside you. Each deliberate throb made you both inhale sharply. “Feel that?” he whispered against your ear, lips brushing the shell. “That’s what you do to me. Just sitting here, warm and tight around my cock it’s driving me crazy in the best way.”

He turned his head to nuzzle your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your throat while one hand slipped between your bodies to rest just above where you were joined, feeling the heat radiating there. No direct touching yet, just heightening awareness. “You’re dripping onto my shorts,” he observed quietly, a hint of teasing amusement in his voice. “All this slick just from warming me at the table?”

The desk lamp cast soft shadows across his sharp features as he continued light conversation mixed with filth, his tone calm yet increasingly strained. He occasionally glanced at the laptop screen, pretending to check a note, but his attention was entirely on the way your walls hugged him. “This schedule can wait,” he decided, closing the lid with one hand without shifting you. “You’re more important right now.”

Jungwon’s hands roamed with purpose cupping your breasts under the shirt, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened. He rolled them gently, then a little firmer, drawing soft whimpers from you. “So responsive,” he praised, voice low and velvety. “Every time you clench, I feel it all the way up my spine. You’re going to make me lose focus completely.” Sweat began to form on his brow, his hoodie suddenly feeling too warm. He tugged it off one-handed, revealing his toned torso, then pulled you tighter against his bare chest.

The position allowed for subtle shifts. Jungwon tilted his hips minimally in the chair, changing the angle just enough to nudge a new sensitive spot inside you without breaking the cockwarming stillness. The motion made your clit grind lightly against his pelvis, sending sparks through both of you. “There,” he murmured with a small, satisfied smile. “Feel how deep I am? Filling you up so well while we sit here like nothing’s happening.”

Your breathing grew heavier, matching his. Jungwon’s cat-like eyes darkened, restraint fraying at the edges despite his composed exterior. His thighs tensed beneath you, muscles flexing as he fought the urge to move. “You’re trembling on me,” he noted, one hand stroking your thigh soothingly while the other gripped your waist. “So needy already. My strong, independent baby initiating this…it’s adorable and so hot.”

The tension built unbearably. Jungwon’s cock throbbed constantly now, leaking inside you. He captured your lips in a deep kiss, then turning hungry, tongue sliding against yours with growing desperation. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I can’t stay still much longer,” he confessed, voice rougher. “You feel too incredible. Hot, wet, wrapped around every inch of me.”

With a quiet groan, Jungwon pushed the chair back from the table. Still fully connected, he stood carefully, lifting you with surprising strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he carried you the few steps to the nearby couch in the nook, lowering you onto it on your back without ever pulling out. The new position him hovering above you, cock buried deep allowed better leverage.

“Eyes on me,” Jungwon commanded softly, that natural leader tone sending a thrill through you. He began to move slow, deep rolls of his hips that kept him mostly sheathed, grinding rather than pounding at first. Each thrust was precise, hitting that perfect curve against your walls. The wet sounds of your connection filled the quiet space, obscene against the earlier silence of schedules.

“You surprised me tonight,” he panted, hips snapping a little harder. “Taking what you want while I was trying to be responsible such a bratty leader’s girl.” One hand braced beside your head while the other slipped between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing firm, expert circles. His pace built steadily, powerful yet controlled, exactly like Jungwon focused entirely on your pleasure.

The orgasm hit you intensely, walls convulsing hard around his thick cock. Jungwon moaned low, burying his face in your neck as he fucked you through it, thrusts deepening. “That’s it squeeze me just like that so good for me.” His own release followed swiftly. He pushed to the hilt, hips stuttering as he came deep inside you with a quiet, guttural groan of your name, warm pulses filling you completely.

Afterwards, Jungwon stayed buried deep, collapsing carefully over you with his weight comforting. He pressed tender kisses to your face, your lips, your eyelids, his breathing gradually slowing. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, voice hoarse but full of affection. “I love when you pull me away from work like this. reminds me I need balance too.”

◟✿ niki ˒ The dim glow of Niki’s gaming setup illuminated the corner of his room. He was slouched in his ergonomic chair, long legs stretched out under the desk, wearing only black basketball shorts and an oversized hoodie. Headphones sat around his neck as he laughed into the phone call with Jake, who was away visiting family and catching up on random stories. The speaker was on, Jake’s cheerful Aussie voice filling the quiet space while Niki played with a fidget toy in his free hand.

“Yeah, hyung, the new choreography is brutal on the knees. I keep telling the choreographer we need more breaks—” Ni-ki’s words cut off mid sentence as you quietly entered and approached him from the front.

His eyes flicked up, a playful smirk already forming, assuming you were just there to bother him like usual. But you didn’t give him time to react properly. You tugged his shorts down just enough to free his cock, already half hard from the casual laziness of the late hour. A few firm strokes later, he was fully erect long, thick, and flushed. Without breaking eye contact, you straddled his lap, pulled your panties aside, and sank straight down onto him in one smooth, relentless motion.

All of him disappeared inside you in seconds, your walls stretching around his impressive length until you were flush against his pelvis, fully seated on his cock while he was still on the phone.

Niki’s entire body jerked. His free hand shot to your hip, gripping hard, knuckles whitening. A choked sound escaped him before he could stop it. “—uh, yeah, I’m still here, hyung,” he managed, voice suddenly deeper and strained. His sharp eyes locked onto yours with a mix of shock, panic, and burning heat. His cock pulsed wildly inside you, thickening even more at the unexpected, scorching grip of your pussy.

Jake’s voice continued casually on the speaker. “You okay? You sound weird.”

Niki swallowed thickly, biting the inside of his cheek. You stayed perfectly still, impaled on him, the fullness overwhelming in the most delicious way. The risk of the ongoing call made everything sharper. “Just… stubbed my toe on the desk keep going,” he lied, forcing a breathy laugh. His long fingers dug into your thigh under the desk, a silent warning and plea at the same time.

You clenched around him deliberately. Niki’s head tipped back against the chair, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he fought to stay composed. The new position him seated upright in the gaming chair, you in his lap facing him, bodies joined while Jake chatted away felt dangerously intimate. His cock throbbed rhythmically against your walls, the subtle curve pressing right into a sensitive spot that made your breath hitch quietly.

“Shit you’re evil,” he mouthed silently at you, not daring to speak it aloud. Sweat already beaded on his forehead. He tried to focus on the call, nodding along to whatever Jake was saying about food recommendations, but his free hand roamed your body under your shirt instead. Long fingers traced your ribs, then cupped your breast, thumb brushing your nipple in slow, teasing circles that matched none of the calm tone he forced into his voice.

Every tiny shift of your hips even the involuntary clenches made his jaw clench. “Yeah, that place sounds good, hyung. We should go when you’re back,” Niki replied, but his voice had dropped an octave, husky and rough around the edges. You could feel him leaking inside you, the warmth spreading as your arousal coated his length and dripped down onto his shorts.

The call dragged on. Jake kept talking, completely oblivious. Niki’s usual boundless energy was now channeled into pure restraint. He mouthed filthy things at you between responses “So fucking wet,” “You’re gonna pay for this,” and “Don’t you dare move yet.” His long legs trembled slightly under you, muscles taut from holding still. The chair creaked faintly whenever he involuntarily flexed his cock deep inside your heat.

You leaned forward, resting your head against his shoulder, lips brushing his neck. Niki’s breath stuttered audibly. “Sorry dropped something,” he quickly told Jake, covering for the noise. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, not to touch your clit, but to press lightly just above where you were stretched around him, feeling the obscene bulge of his cock inside you. The pressure made you both shudder.

Minutes felt like hours. The cockwarming was torturous in the best way no big movements, just the constant, throbbing fullness while Niki multitasked on the call. His hoodie suddenly felt too hot he tugged at the collar with his teeth, eyes half lidded and dark as he stared at you. The fairy lights you’d helped him string earlier twinkled softly, casting shifting colors across his flushed face and sharp jawline.

Finally, Jake said something about calling it a night. “Alright dude don’t stay up too late gaming.”

“Yeah… yeah, I won’t,” Niki rasped. The second the call ended, he ripped the headphones off and tossed the phone onto the desk with a clatter. Both hands gripped your ass immediately, squeezing hard.

“You absolute menace,” he growled, voice raw and no longer restrained. A wicked, breathless grin broke across his face. “Sitting on my cock the entire time I was talking to Jake? I almost moaned your name, you know that?” He rolled his hips upward in one sharp, controlled thrust, driving himself impossibly deeper. The sudden friction after so much stillness ripped a moan from both of you.

Niki didn’t flip you or move to the bed. Instead, he stayed right there in the chair, using his long legs and strong core for leverage. He guided you into a slow, grinding rhythm deep, circular rolls that kept him buried almost completely while hitting every sensitive angle. His height advantage let him lean in and bite at your collarbone, sucking marks that would be hidden by clothes tomorrow.

“Feel how deep I am?” he panted against your skin, voice playful yet wrecked. “You took all of me while I was trying to sound normal. So fucking tight and sloppy now.” One hand finally moved to your clit, rubbing fast, messy circles with those long fingers. The wet sounds of your connection were loud in the now silent room obscene and slick.

He kept the pace torturously controlled at first, savoring the way you fluttered and clenched after the long wait. “You’re shaking already,” he teased, nipping your earlobe. “Was it the risk? Knowing Jake hyung could’ve heard me lose it?” His thrusts grew sharper, more energetic, hips snapping up to meet you each time you sank down. The chair rolled slightly on the floor from the force.

The buildup was intense and different no soft kisses or long praise sessions like the others. Just raw, teasing energy mixed with pure need. Niki’s stamina showed as he fucked up into you relentlessly while keeping you anchored in his lap.

“Come on,” he urged, voice dropping into that deep timbre. “Let me feel you come while I’m still so full inside you. Right here where I was talking to hyung five minutes ago.”

Your orgasm crashed hard, walls spasming violently around his thick length. Niki cursed loudly thrusting through it with powerful strokes, drawing out every wave. His own release hit seconds later he buried himself to the hilt, long body shuddering as he came deep inside you, hot pulses filling you while he groaned your name against your neck.

Afterwards, Niki didn’t pull out. He slumped back in the chair, arms wrapped loosely around you, still buried deep. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, a lazy, satisfied smirk on his lips. “That was insane best worst idea ever.” He pressed a surprisingly soft kiss to your temple, then another to your lips lingering and warm.

PERMANENT TAGLIST : @wonscrchy @miniij @ni-kichromeheartzz @evansfangz @jakeycakeys @addictedtohobi @babydumplingpandabamboo @simjakeyjake @angelhyuka @nodoubtily @chanchamm @ni-k1ttie @yangw0ni3 @mystgene @enheenie @jeongspetal @mokacoca @8naqvg @cherryhwajoong @k-ra05650 @hsngx @hoonguin @yamzz67 @chaostudee @jayrassicpaaark @jakeswifey @rinaarii @mayouar @starboyhee @dolikecherrycoke @sugarcwtie @simj4k3 @simjaeyunslut @hwasencore @kristynaaah @heehoonki1009

[hoonalt]

SIMP SIM ~𓍢s.jy˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

> Just loser jake being a certified dumbass for his stupidly hot gf!

> bf!심재윤 × f!reader˖ ࣪ . 🦮 ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

>smut, pwop, p in v,subby loser jake, he gets nervous and starts yapping about random dog facts or soccer stats, kinda pathetic but hot, oral (m), jake’s a simp deluxe edition

>A/N:back to my roots,loser enha, MDNI

Who would've thought you'll end up with him .Like, Jake Sim? That Jake? The guy who still says “deeznuts” unironically when he tries to joke around, who trips over his own feet in the cafeteria because he’s too busy staring at his phone watching compilations of golden retrievers, who once spent twenty minutes explaining to you why pineapple on pizza is elite while you were literally trying to make out with him.

And yet here you are, in his tiny off campus apartment that smells like vanilla air freshener and boy sweat, straddling his lap while he looks up at you like you hung the damn moon.

His hands are on your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he lets go. He’s already flushed, cheeks pink, lips parted, messy brown hair sticking to his forehead. Pathetic in the best way.

“Baby… you sure you wanna do this?” he mumbles, voice cracking a little. “I mean I just got done with practice and I probably smell like grass and..”

You shut him up by grinding down on him slowly, feeling how hard he already is under those gray gym shorts. He lets out this broken little whimper that goes straight to your core.

“Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay,” he breathes, nodding fast like the eager dumbass he is.

You lean in to kiss him, messy and wet, tongue sliding against his. He tastes like the strawberry milk he chugged earlier. His hands slide up under your hoodie,his hoodie actually, the one you stole last week,palming at your bare skin like he’s trying to memorize every inch.

He’s always like this. Overwhelmed. Grateful. A little stupid.

You pull back just enough to tug the hoodie off, letting your hair fall around your shoulders. Jake’s eyes go wide, pupils blown. He stares at your tits like he’s never seen them before even though he’s literally sucked marks into them two nights ago.

“Fuck… you’re so hot it’s unfair,” he whines, leaning forward to bury his face between them, kissing and licking like a man starved. “How are you real? Like scientifically? Your body’s insane, I swear I could study you for a whole semester and still fail the test because I’d be too distracted.”

You laugh, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging his head back. “You’re rambling again, puppy.”

His ears go red at the nickname. He loves that shit.

“Sorry, sorry..I just...you’re sitting on my dick right now and I can’t think straight.”

You roll your hips again, dragging your clothed pussy over his hard on. Jake’s head falls back against the couch, mouth open, eyes fluttering. So fucking pretty when he’s losing it.

You slide off his lap and kneel between his legs, tugging his shorts down just enough to free his cock. It slaps against his stomach,pretty pink tip flushed and leaking. Jake makes this embarrassed noise, covering his face with both hands.

“Don’t hide,” you coo, wrapping your fingers around him. “Let me see that face.”

He peeks through his fingers, biting his lip hard when you lean in and lick a stripe up the underside. His thighs tense.

“Shit baby, your mouth like i.. it's insane, I really don’t...”

You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, and Jake’s rambling turns into pure gibberish.

“and like, did you know golden retrievers can learn over 200 commands? Not that fuck not that it’s relevant right now but you’re just so good at this and my brain is melting”

You hum around him, swirling your tongue, and his tip,his hips twitch up involuntarily. You pin them down with one hand, working him with the other while you suck. His moans are so pretty breathy and desperate, little curses mixed with your name like a prayer.

You pull off with a wet pop right before he can finish, ignoring his pathetic whine.

“Not yet. I want you inside me.”

Jake nods so fast you’re scared he’ll get whiplash. You stand up, shimmying out of your shorts and panties, and climb back on top. He’s staring like you’re a goddess.

You line him up and sink down slowly, both of you groaning at the stretch. He’s thick, and the way he fills you always makes your toes curl. When you bottom out, Jake’s hands fly to your waist, gripping hard enough to leave marks.

“Oh my god… you’re so warm and tight and i..I’m gonna die. This is how I die. Death by pussy. Tell my mom I loved her..”

You start moving, riding him deep and slow, grinding your clit against his pelvis every time you drop down. Jake’s head is thrown back, eyes half-lidded, mouth slack. He looks drunk on you.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest, and bounce faster. The wet sounds fill the room obscene and filthy. Jake’s trying so hard not to cum too quick, you can tell by the way his abs are clenching and he’s biting the inside of his cheek.

“Jake,” you pant, “look at me.”

He does, eyes glassy. “You’re so fucking hot I can’t ..I don’t know how I pulled you. Everyone at practice keeps asking and I just shrug like ‘idk bro she’s out of my league’ and they think I’m joking but I’m not..”

You clench around him on purpose and he chokes on his words, hips snapping up to meet yours.

“Harder,” you demand.

He flips you suddenly surprising strength from all that soccer pinning you under him on the couch. His hoodie is still half on, sleeves pushed up, sweat dripping down his neck. He looks feral in the softest way.

Jake hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and dives in deep, pace turning sloppy and desperate. Every thrust punches little moans out of you. He’s hitting that spot perfectly, over and over.

“You feel so good fuck, I love you like this. All pretty and taking my dick like you were made for it,” he babbles, voice hoarse. “I’d do anything for you. Buy you anything. Learn how to cook actual food instead of instant ramen. I’d even stop saying rizz if you told me to okay maybe not that one but..”

You laugh breathlessly and pull him down into a kiss, messy and desperate. His hips stutter, losing rhythm as he gets close.

“Cum inside me, Jake.”

His eyes roll back. “Shit yeah? You want that? Want me to fill you up like a loser who doesn’t deserve it?”

You nod, nails digging into his back.

He buries his face in your neck and fucks you harder, chasing it. A few more messy thrusts and he’s gone groaning your name as he spills deep inside you, hips twitching through it. The feeling pushes you over the edge too, clenching around him as you cum with a sharp cry.

For a minute it’s just heavy breathing and the sound of the cheap AC unit rattling.

Jake doesn’t pull out right away. He just stays there, softening inside you, pressing lazy kisses to your collarbone.

“You’re gonna kill me one day,” he mumbles against your skin. “Death by hot girlfriend. Legendary way to go.”

You run your fingers through his damp hair, smiling. “My dumb pup.” he agrees happily, nuzzling closer.

He’s quiet for like… thirty whole seconds a new record before he starts again.

“Hey, random question did you know that”

“Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“Round two in five minutes. Save the dog facts.”

He grins against your neck, already half hard again. “I must've saved homeless kids in my previous life or I'm gods fav.”

©hoonalt

[24hlevi]

Out Of Time

Lee Cheongsan (All Of Us Are Dead) X Gn!Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Cheongsan has liked Y/n since they were kids, but never confessed due to them never seeming to feel the same. By the time the male confesses, he's out of time.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Language, Major Character Death

Word Count: 2.9k

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wow my first aouad fic yay, i dont have a masterlist but i write for everyone EXCEPT Gwinam so feel free to request for them

italics + bold = flashback

Cheongsan and you had been best friends ever since you two were kids, always sticking with one another, and constantly teasing the other one, but still having love and respect for each other. But there was one thing wrong.

Cheongsan’s feelings for you.

When the infection of zombies started at your school, you were beyond terrified, but Cheongsan was there for you, just like he always was. What a fool you were to believe he was just being a good friend instead of something more.

“Y/n! Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Cheongsan asked as he ran up to you, both of you now safe in the science classroom with zombies piling outside the door. His eyes were full of worry and concern, something you hadn't seen many times.

“I’m okay.” You answered him.

His hands grabbed onto yours and he checked your arms for any bites, letting out a sigh of relief when he found none and that you were still alive and human. “Don’t do that again.” He lightly scolded you quietly.

“I won't.” You told him, nodding your head. “Now stop acting like my mother, we're gonna be fine.” You smiled gently at him.

Cheongsan didn't respond, as he was too busy staring at your oh so beautiful smile that he could never get used to, the feelings of butterflies in his stomach whenever you did anything. He had never felt these things before, and all of a sudden when you two were just becoming high schoolers, he then realized that he had fallen for you. His childhood best friend.

“Hello? Cheongsan? Hello?” You waved your hand in front of his face and that was when he finally snapped out of it.

“What? You got something else to say?” He responded, not realizing how harsh it sounded before it left his lips.

Your smile fell from your face as you then shook your head, saying a quiet, “No.” before walking away to the other end of the classroom and sitting on the ground beside Onjo.

“What was that about?” Onjo asked you, seeing Cheongsan say something to himself before looking down.

“I dunno.” You shrugged. “He’s always like that.”

Onjo’s face contorted to confusion as she asked another question, “Like what?”

“Like one minute we’re friends and then the next he's an asshole to me.” You sighed, your chin falling on your knees that were tucked right under your head. “I can never tell what's up with him.”

Onjo’s jaw dropped when she heard what you said, already knowing that Cheongsan liked you because he already told her, but she quickly closed her mouth before you turned to face her.

“Is there something wrong with me?” You asked her.

“What?” She responded, taken back by your sudden question.

“You know,” Your eyes glanced over to Cheongsan and Suhyeok before looking back at the girl in front of you, “Because of the way Cheongsan acts. There must be something wrong with me, right?”

Onjo’s eyes widened as she quickly shook her head and her hand at the same time, “No, no, no, there's nothing wrong with you! Cheongsan is just…” She trailed off for a second, not knowing what to say. “He's just freaked out because of what's happening right now, he's been doing the same to me too. So it's nothing to do with you.”

Your eyes narrowed at how reactive she was to what you had said, but they quickly stopped when Suhyeok came over to you two. Both of you looked up at the boy as he smiled his charming smile before asking to talk to you. You looked at him confused before nodding and allowing him to help you up.

Suhyeok and you made your way to the corner of the classroom that had no one there as he looked down at you, “Hey, uh, so, I have something to ask you.” He said, almost looking nervous.

Sensing his nervousness, you feared what he was going to ask, but you nodded, telling him to continue without speaking.

“Do you like anyone?”

What?

You looked at him with both shock and confusion, “Are you really asking me this in the middle of a fucking zombie apocalypse?”

Suhyeok sighed at your annoyed tone and nodded, “Yes, I am.”

“Why?” You asked. “Wait, don't-don't tell me that you like me! I thought you were with Namra!” You whisper-yelled at him.

His eyes widened and he shook his head, “What?! No! I mean, yes I am with Namra but no I don't like you!” He whispered at the same level.

Now you were even more confused. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you responded with, “Then why the hell are you asking me this?”

“Because someone else likes you. And is using me as the messenger.” Suhyeok answered with a sheepish smile on his face.

“Are you fucking serious?” You questioned.

All the boy did was nod in response, too afraid to actually speak when you would scold him for doing this in the first place.

“Well tell them to tell me face to face, not you. You had me worried for a second, because no offense but you are so not my type, I would have rejected you.” You told him.

“Ouch.” Suhyeok feigned being hurt before nodding, “Yeah I’ll tell him.”

You smiled and nodded, giving him a thumbs up before he walked away, leaving you alone as you sat on the ground again, leaning your head against the wall and closing your eyes.

“Hey, you know you don't have to lie to my mom about her chicken, right?” Cheongsan asked you, well, more like told you.

“What do you mean?” You replied, looking at him as you walked back home.

“You told me it was salty, but you told her it was amazing. Which one was it?” He explained.

“Oh. Well, I mean, salt isn't bad. But it was just a little too much, that's all.” You said.

“So you were lying.” He responded, stopping in his tracks.

You turned around when you heard his footsteps stop, and looked at him confused. “Why does it matter so much?”

“Why would you lie to her?” Cheongsan ignored your question with one of his own, knowing it would get you irritated like it always did when he blatantly ignored your questions.

“Because I don't want to hurt her feelings.” You answered with a sigh. “Now can we please just go home? My feet hurt.”

Cheongsan didn't reply for a moment, too busy processing what you said and how weird it made him feel. He knew that you loved his mother like your own, but you had never said anything like that before about her, and it caused a warm feeling inside of him. When he finally finished processing it, he walked over to you and grabbed your backpack and bags of food from his mother and stood in front of you with his back facing you.

Looking at him confused, you asked, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Get on my back, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.” Cheongsan answered, not looking at you.

You let out a light chuckle, something he always wanted to hear despite it not happening often as you got on his back, his arms supporting your legs as your own wrapped around his neck.

“Onward, gopher!”

“Y/n? Hey, wake up.”

You heard that before feeling someone shake you gently, making you open your eyes to see Cheongsan standing above you.

“What are you doing?” You asked him.

“You fell asleep, so I’m waking you up.” He stated like it was obvious.

You let out a short groan, “It was nice, why did you wake me up?”

Cheongsan looked at you like you were crazy, “Did you forget what's going on? We’re fighting zombies, fucking zombies. We can't sleep.” He told you before his eyes widened and his hand reached to your forehead. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” He quickly asked.

“Cheongsan, stop. I’m fine.” You swatted his hand away from your head, not wanting him to treat you like some child. But at the same time, you didn't know why you were rejecting his kindness, maybe because there was something you didn't want to admit. And sure as hell not right now.

Cheongsan moved his hand away, and looked at you with a look you’d never seen before he sat down next to you. “I’m sorry, I’m just...worried.” He said quietly.

“About me?” You questioned. “Or everything?”

“Both,” He sighed. “I just don't want to lose anyone else. Not after Gyeongsu.” He admitted to you, looking down at his hands.

“Hey,” You said, but he didn't look up, “You're not going to lose anyone else, and not me,” You reached for one of his hands and held onto it, making him look at you. “I promise.” You smiled.

Cheongsan smiled back at you, looking back down at your now connected hands made him feel those funny things again. The feeling of wanting to hug you, to laugh with you, to kiss you. That's it. That's what it was. He finally knew what he was feeling now. It was love. He loved you, more than a friend. He wanted to be with you all the time, but not just as friends, as lovers. He couldn't help these feelings. He had known you since you two were 5, and he had these feelings ever since he was 6. But he finally understood what they were.

But how did you feel? That was the hard part for him. Cheongsan couldn't tell whether you liked him back or not, just as you did for him, and that was the worst part of it all. The fear of the unknown. Everyone has it at some point in their lives, and for you two, it was right now. There were unknown things everywhere. From why zombies had infested your school, why your friends had to die, to did you feel the same way about his feelings? He hated it. Not knowing how to tell if you had feelings for him despite it being over 10 years that he's known you. Not knowing how to confess these feelings to you in a zombie apocalypse. And not knowing if you both were going to make it out alive.

That was his worst fear, being separated from you forever. If one of you were to die, he would never forgive himself for it. Even if there was nothing that could be done about it. No matter if he was the one who was dead or not, he would still feel guilt and shame for never being able to change what happened.

Cheongsan opened his mouth to speak his thoughts, and finally confess when you leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes.

“Wake me up whenever we have to leave.” You said to him quietly.

He wanted to say no, for you to just stay up a little longer so he could state his feelings for you, but instead he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him, “Okay.”

“You know Cheongsan, I wish you’d be nicer to me sometimes.” You said to the boy that was sitting on your couch.

“What?” His head spun around to look at you.

You sighed, “You treat me differently than your other friends. And I’d wish you'd stop it. Why do you even do it?”

Cheongsan stood up off the couch and walked over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders, “Because you're my best friend since childhood, Y/n. You know that.”

“Then why do you not treat Onjo the same as me?” You questioned, staring up at him.

The boy paused for a second, knowing he had just gotten trapped in a hole that he couldn't climb out of. “Because….Because I like her.” He lied. Not even thinking before he spoke.

He could see all the emotion drop from your face, and you let out a quiet, “Oh.” You grabbed his hands and took them off your shoulders, “Well, I’m sure she likes you back.” You told him, knowing fully well that she liked Suhyeok because she told you. You then turned away from him and went into the kitchen, leaving him alone cursing to himself for how stupid he was for what he said.

“Fucking stupid, why did I say that? Fuck.” He said to himself and added a sigh at the end.

“Y/n! Y/n wake the fuck up! We gotta go!”

You were shaken awake forcefully and your eyes and body shot open and up, eyes darting around all over the place, seeing the chaos that erupted in the room somehow when you were asleep and you saw Cheongsan yelling at you with wide eyes.

“What's happening?” You asked, letting your best friend pull you up on your feet and hand you a broken off piece of a desk.

“The zombies are breaking in, look,” Cheongsan pointed to the classroom door that was creaking loudly due to all the zombies pushing on the door. He then looked at the window behind everyone and back at you, “We’re gonna have to jump to another room.”

Your eyes widened as you began to shake your head, “What? No! I’m not jumping!”

Cheongsan grabbed your arm and pulled you over to the window as he opened it with his other hand and turned around to face everyone. “Everyone listen up! We can't get out that way, so we have to jump to another room!” He yelled for everyone to hear.

Soon enough, everyone had recreated a rope to hold onto while going from floor to floor and was going from person to person until it was just Cheongsan and you left.

You leaned over the window ledge, seeing how high up you were and feeling such immense fear that you froze in your spot, leaving everyone confused.

“Y/n? What are you doing? We gotta go.” Cheongsan said to you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

You quickly shook your head, backing away from the window slowly. “I can't.”

“What? Y/n you hav-”

“I can't! I don't want to do this anymore! I'm sick and tired of it all!” You yelled at him loud enough for everyone else to hear from the floor above you, the zombies pushing down the door more and more.

Cheongsan’s eyes were wide and full of fear as to what you were doing, and he rushed towards you but you kept taking steps back and he stopped when he realized. “Y/n?”

Tears began to well up in your eyes, and your vision was becoming blurry because of it. “What's the point if we’re all gonna die anyways? Just go, Cheongsan. You don't need me. You have Onjo.”

“No, I’m not leaving you. I need you, Y/n.” He said desperately, slowly inching towards you to pull you away from the door.

“I said go!” You screamed, making him flinch. “You like her, don't you? So go be with her. You deserve it.”

“I don't like her, okay?!” Cheongsan yelled back, walking towards you. “I never liked her! I just said it out of stupidity okay?! I like you! You! Ever since I was 6 I've been in love with you!”

You froze in your spot after hearing him. “You...what?”

Cheongsan made it to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “I like you, Y/n. I always have.”

You wanted to respond, to say that you felt the same, but it suddenly felt hard to breathe, and your throat felt like it was on fire. You felt something start to trickle down your nose and you touched it, only to see blood. Your eyes widened as you looked at Cheongsan who had the same look, as he grabbed your arm and lifted up your sleeve, seeing a bite mark.

“You...You told me you were okay.” Cheongsan said quietly.

“I’m….sorry.” You spat out through the pain surging all throughout your body as you ripped your hand away from Cheongsan. Suddenly, your bones started cracking as they moved unnaturally and you backed away from the boy, groans leaving your mouth. “Get..away.”

Cheongsan stayed in his spot as he watched you start to turn into one of those beasts with wide eyes that had tears spilling from them. “Y/n, please.” He cried.

“I said get away! Now!” You yelled at him, continuing to back away.

“I can't lose you too.” Cheongsan said as he watched what happened to Gyeongsu happen to you. “Please. I love you, Y/n.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your back went backwards, and all of your sense of direction, logic, and normality was gone. You had become a beast. You growled when you spotted Cheongsan and started to run towards him. When he understood you had finally turned, he ran to the window and jumped out, grabbing onto the rope and watching you follow and fall to the ground. A loud thud echoing to make it even worse for him.

“Y/n…” He whispered to himself.

The others helped pull Cheongsan into the room they were in as the rest of the zombies began to fall out of the room below just as you did. When he opened his hand after getting pulled inside safely, he was holding your name tag that he had quickly swiped off before you turned, and it made him want to cry again. Because his worst fear had come true. He lost you. All because he confessed when he was

out of time.

[hoondrop]

HAPPY ENDING - Lee Sangwon x F! Reader

synopsis: what starts off as spoiling and relaxing your pretty boyfriend with a massage turns into something else because you cannot resist him.

cw: sub! sangwon, dom! reader, hand job, tit play? riding, cowgirl, petnames, edging, begging, unprotected sex

the rain continued its steady rhythmic tap against the window, the soft sound blurring the rest of the world into a distant hum. inside, the room was thick, the only illumination came from three large vanilla-scented candles resting on the dark wooden dresser, their flames dancing and throwing long lazy shadows across the walls. the air was warm, smelling deeply of sweet almond, melted wax and a hint of earthy sandalwood, creating a private and warm cocoon.

sangwon lays completely flat on his stomach, his face buried into a plush white pillow to muffle the quiet content sounds escaping him. his shoulders were broad, the pale skin glistening faintly under the low light, already showing a soft delicate pink from the ambient heat and the friction of your touch. you sat straddling his thighs, knees lightly anchoring his hips to the mattress, keeping him entirely grounded beneath you.

you uncap the bottle of massaging oil, pouring a generous amount into your palms and rubbing your hands together, the soft sliding sound of your slick skin filling the space between you.

"feeling completely relaxed, baby?" you ask, voice dropping to a low, soothing murmur that immediately draws his attention.

"mm... so relaxed," sangwon murmurs into the pillow, his voice thick and sleepy. "your hands are always so warm"

you bring your oil slicked hands down onto the small of his back, the initial touch causing his breath to hitch slightly before he completely melts into the mattress. you begin to work in long, deliberate strokes, your palms sliding effortlessly from his lower spine all the way up to his neck, smoothing over the lean contours of his muscles. every line of his body was completely pliant, trusting your hands implicitly.

"you have so much tension right here," you whisper, using your thumbs to apply a gentle rotating pressure right between his shoulder blades.

sangwon lets out a low shaky sigh, his fingers lightly twitching against the sheets. he turns his head to the side, resting his cheek against the fabric so he can look at you. his blond hair so beautifully messy, a few damp strands clinging to his flushed forehead. his eyes heavy, hooded with a mix of exhaustion and deep comfort as he watches you through his long lashes that you envy so much.

"you're doing a very good job taking care of me" he whispers, a ghost of smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"of course i am" you say softly, leaning forward to press a gentle yet lingering kiss to his warm shoulder blade, tasting the sweet oil on his skin. "you deserve to be taken care of, sangwonnie. just let me do everything, hmm?"

his eyes flutter close at the praise, a soft pink blush spreading from his cheeks down to his neck, his chest rising and falling in deep, slow breaths. you continue the slow rhythm, your hands tracing the curve of his waist and the back of his thighs, ensuring every inch of his upper body was slick, warm and thoroughly relaxed under your care.

as the minutes tick by, the atmosphere in the room shifts. the innocence of the massage beginning to give way to a heavy pull that made the air feel thick and hard to breathe. your hands travelling back up his spine, the edge of your palms lazily brushing against the waistband of his boxers.

the effect was instantaneous. sangwon’s deep relaxed breathing breaks, catching sharply in his throat. his stomach muscles ripple and tighten under your touch, his hips giving a microscopic yet involuntary twitch against the mattress.

"sangwonnie..." you murmur, your hands coming to a rest on his lower back, feeling the sudden, intense heat radiating from his skin. "roll over for me, baby. look at me"

he blinks his eyes open slowly, his gaze dilated and glassy with mounting desire. he didn't hesitate, turning onto his back until he was completely exposed to you. the visual of the prettiest man ever below you, as his eyes look up with neediness, pleading for your touch, was breathtaking. the amber candlelight catching the sheen of the oil covering his chest and abdomen, making his skin glisten like wet silk. your eyes rake lower and lower down, his boxers were shifting, a growing ridge pushing against the fabric and twitching in rhythm with his accelerated heartbeat.

you pour a tiny bit more oil into your hands, the wet, sliding sound of your palms rubbing together making his ears turn a deep crimson, anticipating of what might happen. you shift your weight, sitting comfortably over his thighs, your presence commanding but entirely gentle, something that he absolutely loves.

"look how pretty you are" you whisper, your oil slicked fingers lightly tracing his collarbones before sliding down the center of his chest. "all flushed and soft under the candles. are you getting hot, baby?"

sangwon swallows hard, his adam's apple bobbing sharply as his hands lay flat on the mattress, his fingers tightly clamping onto the sheets to keep himself still. he looks up at you with complete submission, his expression entirely vulnerable. "yes... because you're sitting on me like that. you're so warm..."

"i'm just taking care of my favourite boy" you tease gently, your hands traveling lower, tracing the lean muscle of his stomach, moving closer and closer until your fingers lightly graze the elastic of his underwear. "do you want me to keep going?"

"please.. " he whispers, his voice trembling, an implicit plea for direction and for permission. "please touch me?"

you smile down at him, a soft, affectionate expression and reach down to smoothly slide his boxers down his legs, tossing them away. he's completely bare beneath you now, a beautiful glistening picture of vulnerability, his chest heaving as he waits obediently for your next move.

you gather the excess oil from his stomach, smoothing it down the full length of his hard, throbbing cock until every single millimeter is dripping, and completely frictionless. when you wrap your warm hand around him, the sound is incredibly loud in the quiet room—a thick, wet and slippery squelch that makes your boyfriend's eyes instantly snap shut.

"ah... god" he whimpers, his head falling back into the pillow, his hips lifting slightly into your palm before he remembers to hold himself back.

"shh...stay still for me" you command softly, keeping your pace slow, steady and agonizing. your oil slicked hand slides from his base all the way up to the leaking tip, smearing his pre-cum with the oil in a continuous heavy glide. "just lie there and let me do it... you don't have to lift a finger, okay baby?"

"it's so slippery" he whines quietly, a tear of sheer overstimulation tracking down his temple into his hair. his hands white-knuckled on the bedsheets, his toes curling as the friction free heat of your hand drove him crazy. "baby, fuck... it feels so good...please."

"you're being such a good boy for me, sangwonnie" you praise softly, leaning down so your breath ghosts over his ear, your voice a gentle purr that anchors him through the intensity and overwhelming feeling. "look at you, staying so still... taking it so beautifully. i love how much you need this. i love how needy you get just from my hands"

"i'm being good, aren't I?," he pants, his chest heaving violently against yours as you lean down, your own skin slick with the transfer of oil. he forces his eyes open, completely glazed, looking up at you with absolute adoration. " please... tell me i'm doing good."

"you're doing perfectly, sweetie," you whisper against his lips, speeding up the slick wet rhythm just a fraction, the heavy squelching sound filling the candlelit room as you guid him steadily towards the edge.

the heavy, wet rhythm of your hand continues to fill the dark room, the sound of the oil squelching against his skin growing louder as his body tightens. sangwon’s hips stuttering upward now, desperately, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as he nears the absolute edge.

"i'm—i'm gonna go..." he chokes out, his eyes rolling back, fingers practically tearing at the bedsheets. "baby, please, i can't hold it—"

just as his body is about to get entirely rigid, you clamp your grip tight at the base of his pretty cock and completely stop the movement, holding him suspended right at the brink. sangwon lets out a devastated whining cry, his eyes flying open, completely wide and glazed with confusion and desperate need.

"shh... not yet, sweet boy" you murmur, your voice a calm contrast to his frantic breathing.

with your free hand, you reach down and pull your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. the cool air of the room hits your bare skin, instantly causing your nipples to harden under the dim amber light of the candles. sangwon’s gaze immediately drops to your tits, chest heaving as he stares at you, completely captivated and helpless.

you slide your oil covered hand up his dick, thumb catching the heavy bead of clear, thick pre-cum that was leaking from the top. leaning over him, you press the slick pad of your thumb directly against his lower lip, forcing his mouth open.

"taste how ready you are for me," you whisper gently.

sangwon swallows hard, his tongue darting out eagerly to lick the fluid off your thumb, his dark eyes locking onto yours with nothing but love. "so sweet.. such a sweet boy" you praise softly, wiping the remaining moisture against his cheek. "such a good boy..."

without giving him time to recover, you wrap your hand back around his leaking and flushed cock, fisting him with a firm grip to get the oil moving again. but instead of just using your hand, you lean down further, using your body to take over. you guide his thick, throbbing length up towards your chest, positioning the heavy mushroom head right between your tits.

using both hands to squeeze your tits tightly together, trapping his cock in the deep warm cleavage. your skin was already shiny and slick from the residual oil on your hands and as you begin to press your tits down and slide them up and down his length, the friction is entirely gone, replaced by a tight yet slippery heat.

you maneuvere him deliberately, lifting your chest slightly so that the slick, shiny head of his cock latches and glides directly across your stiff nipples.

a high-pitched, broken sob escapes sangwon’s throat. the feeling of his sensitive head rubbing directly over your hard nipples, coated in a thick layer of warm almond oil, was entirely too much. his head thrashes against the pillow, his neck tendons straining as he tries to look down at the view of his own cock disappearing between your breasts.

"look at what you're doing to me, baby..." you murmur your voice dropping into a low and heavy purr as you rub him relentlessly against your skin. "look how beautifully you fit right here. you're getting me so messy, sangwonnie..."

"it's so soft... god, it's so tight" he whimpers, his hands flying up to hesitantly grip your waist, not to push you away but to try and anchor himself as his hips began to violently roll against your squished tits. the wet, sliding sounds of his cock rubbing over your breasts echoing.

you maintain complete control, maneuvering his slippery cock back and forth, making sure every inch of his shaft is coated in the warmth of your skin and oil before dragging him right back over your nipples, pushing him closer and closer to the climax he had been begging for.

the heavy, wet friction of your breasts hugging his length is driving him entirely out of his mind. sangwon’s hands slick with the transferred oil, grip your waist with a trembling and needy force. his hips are rolling upwards completely against his control, his lower stomach muscles tight and rippling with every frantic movement.

"please," he sobs out, his voice completely broken, his face flushed a dark, beautiful pink under the candlelight. "please, let me cum.? i'll be so good for you, i'll do whatever you want... just please let me finish inside you... i need it so bad."

you let out a low, breathless laugh, deeply reveling in just how unraveled and needy you have made him. you stop the friction against your tits, sliding up his torso until you are straddling his hips completely, your bare thighs framing his waist. you reach down, your hand finding his slick, throbbing cock and guiding the heavy, shiny head right against your cunt.

sangwon’s eyes blow wide, dark and completely dilated with hope. "wha—?"

"shh, i've got you..." you whisper, and before he can gasp out another plea, you sink down slowly, burying his full length inside you in one deep smooth slide.

a loud, high-pitched cry tears from his throat as your tight warmth encases him, his back arching completely off the mattress. to drown out the sound, you lean down and capture his lips in a deep bruising kiss. your tongue slides into his mouth, tasting the remnants of his own pre cum and swallowing his breathless moans as your bodies finally connect.

you don't give him the fast, hard rhythm he is starving for. instead, you keep your hands planted firmly on his chest, anchoring him down as you begin a slow, agonizingly lazy grind. you roll your hips in tight, deliberate circles, shifting your weight so the inside of your dripping pussy squeezes him mercilessly with every slide.

"ah... god, no, please..." sangwon whimpers against your mouth as you finally pull back just enough to look at him. tears of sheer overstimulation are wetting his eyelashes, trailing down his flushed cheeks. "don't do it slowly... please, just fuck me hard. i can't take the grinding, it's too much... it's not enough"

"you can take exactly what i give you, sweet boy" you murmur, your voice a gentle but unyielding command. you lift your hips up, sliding nearly all the way to his tip before dropping back down hard, making him let out a breathless, choked gasp. "tell me how much you like being fucked by me. tell me what a good boy you are.."

"i'm your good boy... i'm your favourite boy" he cries out shamelessly, his submissive nature completely taking over as his head thrashes from side to side on the wet pillow. "your pussy's so fucking tight... it's squeezing me so hard. please... just let me thrust, let me please you."

you lean down, pressing your oily, bare breasts against his chest, the slick friction of your skin connecting as you pick up the pace just a tiny fraction. you keep him entirely trapped beneath you, grinding and teasing his most sensitive spots, making him weep and beg for the release that you are holding just out of his reach.

the slow torturous grind of your hips continues to wring broken noises out of him, the wet, sliding sound of your bodies locked together filling the candlelit room. sangwon’s hands are completely locked onto your thighs now, his knuckles white as he tries to find some leverage, his entire lower half trembling under the absolute weight of your control.

you pause your movement for a fraction of a second, staying buried deeply inside, and lean forward until your chest brushes his. you look down at his ruined, tear stained face with a slow, amused smile, your gaze full of an affectionate yet condescending warmth.

"look at you..." you murmur, your voice dropping to a low, mocking purr that makes his ears instantly turn a violent shade of red. "you're a total mess, sangwonnie. crying, begging, shaking beneath me..."

you shift your hips just an inch, a tiny, lazy roll that makes his stomach muscles instantly contract.

"and you're here begging me so prettily, so nicely to let you cum" you whisper, leaning in closer until your lips are almost brushing his ear, your breath hot against his skin. "but tell me, sweet boy... what about me? are you actually going to make me cum tonight? are you going to make me feel good, too?"

sangwon lets out a choked and desperate whine, his head thrashing against the pillow as the sheer weight of the question hits him. "i—i want to" he sobs out, his voice breathless and an octave-high. "i want to make you feel so good, baby, please... i promise i will."

you let out a soft, condescending chuckle, your hand coming up to lazily cup his flushed, wet cheek, your thumb wiping away a stray tear. "how can you make me feel good when you can barely even handle me sitting still on you? you're so weak for me, baby...you're so close to blowing your load in my pussy just from me looking at you.."

"no... no, i can do it" he whimpers, his eyes fluttering open, completely glazed and desperate to please you, looking up at you wide-eyed . "you know I always do... tell me what to do. let me please you. i'll hold it in for as long as you want, i swear, just tell me how to make you cum"

you drag your fingernails lightly down his chest, watching the goosebumps immediately break out over his slick skin. the power dynamic in the room is entirely yours, and you revel in the way he hangs onto every single word, dependent on your validation.

"you really think you have the control for that?" you tease softly, dropping your hips down hard, bottoming out against him suddenly that forces a loud shattered gasp from his lips. "you're just my good little boy, aren't you? you don't get to decide when we're done. you're going to lie there and let me use this pretty little cock of yours until i've had my fun."

"yes.. yes, please, use me," he cries out shamelessly, his hips give a desperate and weak twitch upward, as he weeps into the mattress. "make yourself feel good... just don't stop."

sangwon is entirely unraveled beneath you, his upper body shaking so violently that the headboard rattles weakly against the wall. you keep your weight planted firmly over his thighs, holding him captive as you slowly drag yourself up and down his length again, halting completely every single time his hips try to wrench upwards to chase a release.

"please baby... please, i can't... i'm gonna die" he sobs, his voice dropping into a ragged broken plea. tears stream down his temples into his blond hair, and a thin silver thread of drool leaks from the corner of his parted lips, dripping onto the wet pillowcase. he has completely lost all pride, his head thrashing from side to side in pure, agonizing overstimulation. "let me cum inside you... let me put it in your pussy, please.... let me..."

you wrap your hand tightly around the very base of his cock where it disappears into your hole, squeezing hard to keep the blood trapped at the now swollen purple head.

"you want to fill me up so bad, sangwonnie?" you murmur condescendingly against his lips, your thumb lazily wiping the drool from his chin. "look at what a pathetic little mess you are for me. crying and begging so prettily..."

"yes... yes, please, i'm your pretty boy" he weeps shamelessly, his eyes rolled back so far you can only see the whites, his entire lower half spasming automatically against your thighs. "please, baby... now, now."

you give him one last brutal tease, pulling almost completely out until only the shiny, dripping head is resting at your entrance, holding him suspended over the cliff for three long agonizing heartbeats until his chest heaves in a silent suffocating gasp.

"good boy" you finally whisper, the permission cutting through the quiet room like a blade. "do it. fill up this pussy"

you drop your hips down hard, bottoming out against him in one deep ruthless slide. the sudden crushing warm grip of your gummy walls is the final trigger his body can't withstand. sangwon lets out a shaky moan that dies out into a choked gasp as his body goes entirely rigid beneath you.

his toes curl violently, his fingers clawing into the mattress as his hips lock in a high arched bridge. deep inside you, his cock begins to throb violently, pulsing with a wild uncontrollable force. huge, thick waves of hot seed erupt from his length, instantly flooding your pussy with his heat. you can feel the heavy spurts filling you up to the brim, the intense warmth spreading deep within your core as his internal muscles clamp down in a pathetic and endless release.

"ah... god, baby... look how much... look how much i'm giving you" he pants breathlessly, his voice a thinned out whisper as his hips shudder and twitch automatically, trying to force every single remaining drop deep inside you.

you stay heavily sunk down on him, absorbing every single violent throb of his release, your hands cupping his flushed wet face as he slowly collapses back into the sheets. he lies completely spent and dripping under your weight, his chest heaving as your shared release leaks slowly between your thighs onto the mattress.

[siyalogue]

by twisting jungwon's words to target hee you will only end up setting jungwon up. and likewise, by twisting heeseung's words to target enha will only set him up too. it's okay if you can't accept the separation in a mature way, but throwing hate at either side is genuinely pointless. we still have no idea what actually happened behind the scenes and realistically, we probably never will. so how about we just focus on our favs instead? whether you're supporting enha as 6 or supporting hee as a solo, just do that peacefully🫶

PS: this post isn't for ot7s

[flirticsm]

NOTHING SERIOUS     ⋆     권오율

IN WHICH you’re a trainee for morevision’s new gg  &&   ohyul loves sneaking around! ┊ kissing skinship sneakingaround glassesohyulagenda   fwb?? banter

♫⋆.˚  now playing good luck, babe! chappell roan

the hallway outside lngshot’s dorm was pretty much silent — it was around twelve pm after all. ohyul dragged you behind him by your wrist, his hood pulled over his messy black hair.

“god, if jay dpn finds out you sneak me into the dorms he’d kill both of us,” you whispered while hiding your face in the sleeve of his hoodie.

ohyul smiled like he only found what you said amusing, his glasses moving down his nose. “i think he’d be happy for us.”

you rolled your eyes, but still followed behind him like always. that was the problem with kwon ohyul . . . he was pretty stupid, but so persuasive at the same time.

the dorm was quiet when he unlocked the door, he immediately pulled you inside before you could complain again, snorting as you basically tripped over your uggs trying to be quiet.

“shh,” he whispered and pressed a finger against your lips.

you blankly stared at him. “you’re louder than me!”

“no, i’m not.”

“you just slammed the door shut?”

“it was gentle.”

you huffed under your breath while he carelessly kicked his shoes off. the only light source was from some dim lamp in the kitchen and light gaming sounds came from one of the boy’s rooms. you instinctively grabbed the back of his hoodie.

“ohyul,” you worriedly whispered. “someone’s awake.”

he looked down at your fingers holding him and then back up to your flushed face and smiled. he tugged you in by your waist. “they won’t care.”

“well, you’re the one that actually lives here,” you said, “not me.”

“you’re here like every night anyway.”

“oh my god.”

you buried your face into his chest while he quietly laughed at you.

“if louis sees me i’ll be mortified,” you mumbled.

“c’mon.” ohyul scoffed like it was a sensitive topic while still bringing you toward his room. “louis is in love with you.”

you bit down on your bottom lip to hide your smile. ohyul was so convinced louis had mischievous plans of stealing you from him. “let’s not start this again.”

“he literally follows you around.”

“he’s just sweet!”

“sweet my ass,” ohyul said seriously, opening his bedroom door. “he’s like fifteen so it doesn’t matter.”

“hmm, you sound jealous.”

“i am jealous.”

he caught you off guard for a second . . . yeah, both of you spent like every day together and snuck around to get even more time, but neither of you had ever thought of it seriously.

ohyul noticed your face and shook his head. “don’t look at me like that.”

you laughed lightly as he shut the bedroom door behind you. his room was messy — clothes and different pairs of shoes all over the floor, headphones all tangled next to his macbook, bed very messy and unmade.

you dropped onto the edge of the mattress while he fixed the way his glasses sat on his face.

“have you like ever cleaned your room?” you scoffed. “this is crazy.”

“and you’re still sitting on my bed.”

“sadly . . .”

“oh, you love me.”

you were just about to answer him with some sort of retort, but he stepped between your knees before you could even open your mouth.

his hands softly rubbed your thighs, fingers brushing the skin under the big hoodie you stole from him like a month ago.

“sneaking in wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“. . . no.” you batted your eyelashes at him while he towered over you. “jay’s gonna ban me from the building one day. the staff definitely know and—”

ohyul cut you off the way he always did. he leaned down and crashed his mouth against yours, tongue entering it before you could even blink. you made a sound out of shock that only made him smile more into the kiss.

“you always do that,” you whispered when he pulled back enough so that your lips were still brushing.

“mhm.”

“that’s so manipulative!”

“i just needed to kiss you.”

his glasses bumped into your cheek when he kissed you again. one of his hands sliding into your messy hair, the other pulling you in by your waist. there was the sound of movement from somewhere in the dorm that made your stomach twist.

“ohyul,” you breathily whispered against his lips, “someone’s gonna hear.”

“so be quiet, baby.”

“god, you’re the worst.”

“you don’t mean that.”

you rolled your eyes as he kissed the corner of your mouth lovingly. that was another one of the many problems with kwon ohyul.

for two people who kept agreeing that whatever this was was nothing serious, the way he kissed you definitely said different.

[simjakedly]

the summer i got horny - s.jy

main masterlist

summary. nerdy sim jaeyun is sweating buckets when the baddie he's been crushing on sits in his lap on a two-hour road trip.

pairing. nerdy!jake x baddie!female reader

genre(s). oneshot, smut, big porn with a small plot

warnings. MDNI, jake is a professional yearner, jake is very shy and repressed (and a bit insecure), masturbation, pervert!jake, unprotected sex (pls don’t), subby switch!jake, top or bottom he's always a sub, reader is a bit mean, jake cries a lot and begs a lot, slight sunsunki if you squint, handjob, blowjob, nose-riding, jake eats her out as well, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, missionary, BRO WHY IS IT NEVER-ENDING, but like it's messy, EDGING EDGING EDGINGGGG, reader calls him jaeyun, reader is jealous and possessive, implied aftercare, enhypen ensemble, hmm please let me know if i missed anything! not beta read we die like injang

word count. 14,807 words

note. oh boy! this used to be a veeeery old, 8k-word draft, my take on nerdy jake that i decided to polish and give life to. it is also a gift for my bestie and fellow jake's wife: dr. @twocupsofsuga 🫶🏼 congratulations on passing medschool! you're so smart mhm here's my lap dance for you 😏

Women make Sim Jaeyun nervous.

Especially someone as bold and confident like you.

There's something about the soft lilt of your voice that makes him feel ashamed to even speak in your presence. There's something about your enticing eyes that makes him stutter and stumble with his own words, his grammar-police persona flying out the window. There's something about the sure sway of your hips that makes him want to avert his gaze and look more all the same time; like something sinful he shouldn't want but crave for anyway.

You're the kind of woman that makes Sim Jaeyun nervous.

Park Jongseong's cousin from the States that always comes to visit for summer, with that bold show of your body that'll usually often get frowned upon in his neighbourhood, that honey tint of your skin that's far from the local society's beauty standard. You're upfront and so unapologetically you, something he admires and makes him overly conscious if his hair looks nice or not.

It's another summer and you're here again. You're always a welcome addition to their annual trip to Jay's beach house, a road trip that's usually joined by the other five plus you and him. But this year, Nishimura Riki had a last minute decision to cancel his flight to Japan and opted to spend the summer with them instead of with his family.

Which leaves all of you with no space for one person inside Jay's SUV.

"I call dibs on the rear seats," Heeseung says before anyone gets the chance to and disappears into the car. Riki opens his mouth, about to follow the eldest of the group, when Jungwon shoots him a sharp look and blocks his way with his hand.

"No, Riki. You're not getting a seat."

Riki's face morphs into horror. "What?! Am I excluded from this trip?"

"You cancelled your flight this morning. You were never included in the trip."

Seeing the look of hurt on his face, Sunoo actually takes pity on Riki. Peering inside, the blonde mumbles with a pout when he sees a small ice box sitting beside Heeseung. "Surely we can squeeze him into the rear seat, right…?"

"All of his six-feet-one ass? I'd like to see you try, Sunoo hyung." Jungwon shakes his head. He leans on the passenger door, already the assigned co-pilot of the car, in charge of Spotify playlist and Waze and moral support to his Jay hyung. "Either one of you sits in another's lap, or we can Uber Riki to the beach house."

Hearing that, Riki immediately throws his hands. "It's a two-hour drive, hyung, I might just be paying for the Uber's car loan! It's gonna be so expensive!"

"If you can afford cancelling your flight with no refunds, then I think you can afford an Uber to Sokcho."

Riki whips his head to his Sunoo and Jake hyung, jutting out his lips in a pout that's borderline pitiful. Jake mirrors his expression, not really having the power to go against Jungwon's verdict—as if anybody could. Jake pities him, really, but it's Yang Jungwon. There's a whole menace behind those cute dimples and boba eyes.

Beside him, Sunghoon lets out a long sigh. "Then one of us will have to sit in another's lap."

It's an option that has everybody darting their eyes around, afraid that any eye contact with Jungwon will make them become the sacrificial thighs for the two-hour road trip. They're all men packed with mass and muscles, a result of a gym routine that unexpectedly becomes a problem today. Each of them at least weighs one hundred-forty pounds. Jake's sure that if he was chosen, he'd lose his legs by the time they exit Seoul.

Just in time, a loud thud is heard from the car boot. You and Jay walk into the scene, just having finished loading all of their stuff into the car. Jake adjusts his glasses instinctively, unknowingly fixing his appearence when his eyes land on you.

You've abandoned your cardigan, now only wearing a yellow camisole top that only reaches your belly button and a pair of jeans shorts that ends at the bottom swell of your ass. Your outfit choice hides nothing about your figure—your perfect body that admittedly has always been on his mind.

Jake gulps and lets his eyes trail down to your legs. You're seriously one of the most beautiful and hottest girls he's ever seen, and unfortunately, he has a severe problem of having a crush on baddies who are completely out of his nerdy league. You're definitely one of them.

When he looks up, Jake almost faints when your gaze catches his eyes with an unreadable expression. He quickly averts his eyes, adjusting the thick black rims of his glasses that didn't need adjusting.

Did you notice him staring?

"Car seat problem?" Jay asks when he senses the tension among the boys, already foreseeing this issue the moment Riki told him that he was joining their road trip over the phone this morning. They hesitantly nod.

"So what's the solution?"

"Riki takes an Uber to Sokcho—"

"Which will cost him his tuition fees," Jay comments, ever the hyperbole-user.

"—Or someone has to sit in another's lap."

Judging from the expression on Jay's face, he, too, doesn't think it's a comfortable position to be sitting in on a two-hour road trip.

But apparently, someone thinks otherwise.

"Oh, then let's do that!" You pipe in, flashing them with your charming smile. "I don't mind doing it!"

There's an elephant silence that follows your statement. Upon seeing their gaped expression, your smile slowly dies down, unsure if you had said the right thing.

"…Or not."

"Or yes!" Riki interrupts, relief flooding his senses. His eyes lit up as he looks around at each one of his friends. "Guys, she's offered to sit in anyone's lap. We can do that, right?"

Jungwon narrows his eyes. "It's a two-hour drive."

Riki blinks nervously. "But noona wants it."

"Then let Y/N noona sit in your lap."

Now, there's a rosy blush blooming across Riki's cheeks. Jake frowns. Lucky bastard. "I-I mean—"

"Not him," you cut in, a small smile playing on your lips. Jake can feel the exact moment everyone holds their breath, as if the air pauses on its own accord and waits for the rest of your sentence. Either they're anticipating or dreading to be your exclusive seat in the car—he's not sure. He's certain that he's the former, but he's also certain you'd pick someone more your type—Sunghoon or Riki, who are loyal gym buddies that possess strong thighs for you to sit on—or even Heeseung who's abandoned his nap and is eavesdropping the conversation now.

He doesn't know why, but surely someone hot like you would pick someone just as hot, right? And hot in Sim Jaeyun's definition is someone who matches your confidence (not him), someone who has a good body and is not shy to show them (Jake thinks his body is nice, but he's also always wearing long-sleeves), or just anyone but him.

Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. "Then who?"

When your eyes meet Jake's, the brown-haired boy almost loses his breath.

A smile curves up your lips. Jake thinks he's hallucinating because there's no way you are smirking at him.

"With Jaeyun."

There's a ripple of gasps, disbelief and shock mixing with a hint of betrayal (no doubt from Riki). Jay's brow disappears behind his hair.

"Seriously, Y/N? You don't have to—Riki's rich enough to pay for the Uber."

Riki's protest is muffled when Jungwon pulls him into a chokehold and slaps a hand over his mouth. Jake wants to pity him, really, but this time he thinks he's the one who needs help because what do you mean? There's no way—

"I'm serious. Jaeyun-ah."

—Oh my fucking God. Jaeyun. Jaeyun. Who's Jaeyun? Who the fuck is Jaeyun?

Jake has a trouble hearing you over the loud roar of his blood, heart threatening to jump out of his throat. But he manages a small, airy, 'Hm?' when all eyes are on him.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes never letting go of his, holding him hostage in your gaze alone. This, paired with the way you call his government name—a name you prefer over Jake because 'it's cuter' (according to you, not him) when he first introduced himself to you four years ago, and Jake had let you because he could never say no to you—are the most perfect, never-before-seen formula to unravel the physics genius Sim Jaeyun.

Yeah. Jake is a goner. And will soon have a boner if no one stops you from picking him as today's sacrificial thighs.

"Can I sit with you, Jaeyunnie?"

Someone please say no. Someone please stop you. Someone please tell this Jaeyun to say no because—because why him? Is this some kind of a cliché ploy that popular girls do to play with men's feelings, especially a physics nerd like him? Because if it is, Jake hates to admit that he'd be a willing participant (even if it'd break his heart a little).

"Yes, sure," he squeaks, finally recognising that Jaeyun is his name. He's still trying to process that you chose him—not Sunghoon with his ridiculous broad shoulders, or Riki with his ridiculous long legs, or Heeseung with his ridiculous charm—but him, who's sweating buckets and dampening his armpits underneath his long-sleeved T-shirt. His glasses almost glide down his nose from how sticky it is.

"It's settled, then!" Sunoo claps once, already red and irritated from having to stand under the unforgiving sun for longer than necessary. "Jake hyung and Y/N will sit together. So I will be sitting with—"

"Me!"

"Me!"

Sunoo ignores Sunghoon and Riki, and walks straight to the rear seats. "With Heeseung hyung!"

Soon, there's shuffling and then everyone's already inside the car. Riki sits in the middle with a pout, a penalty for causing the minor disruption and losing rock-paper-scissors to Sunghoon and Jake. Sunghoon is happily humming to a song from the 80s, occassionally turning around to tease Sunoo who's been trying to join Heeseung in his mandatory road-trip nap. Jay and Jungwon have settled into their designated seats as the drivers of the day, already talking about the route they're taking and traffic condition. While Jake—well, he's preparing himself for the inevitable.

You're still standing by the door, overseeing the situation at hand, and Jake tries to ignore the way his cheeks burn under your weighted gaze.

"Can I sit now?" You softly ask. Jake hesitates a moment before nodding his head frantically.

"Y-Yes."

You, on the other hand, do not hesitate at all. Jake instinctively spreads his legs when you climb into the car, already aiming his lap as your throne for the next 120-minute of the ride. His senses heighten, overly aware of his friends' eyes watching his every move, and the soft scent of peach from your body wash that invades his nose when your weight finally settles on him.

In a split second, Jake goes from never daring to touch you to having you resting your ass comfortably on his clothed dick, thanks to a certain Japanese who's now queueing songs like he didn't just commit a fatal crime against his Aussie hyung.

His slightly longer thighs bracket your exposed ones in a hesitant cage, every point of your skin meeting his seems to burn through the fabric of his jeans. Your hair and neck are one breath away from his nose now, where he's inhaling lungfuls of peaches and creams and your vanilla-ish perfume, and Jake chooses to blink at the ceiling to avoid looking over your shoulders and possibly flashing himself with the swell of your chest under that thin camisole top. The already-cramped space feels even smaller, and Jake doesn't think he can breathe properly.

While at it, Jake hopes his prayers could break through the car roof and reach the heavens.

God, please have mercy on me and let my other head not have a brain of its own.

God answers him shortly in the form of you shifting around.

"You comfortable?" You ask innocently, adjusting yourself on his lap. Jake nearly inhales his tongue, feeling blood rush to his ears and south. A strangled noise escapes his throat instead.

"Mhm."

From the front, he can hear a snort coming from none other than Jay. "You sound constipated, dude."

'Try having a pretty girl sit on your dick then!', is what Jake wishes he could say to his friend, but he knows that this is more of a him-problem. Someone like Jay won't get flustered in this kind of situation—at least not as bad as he is, who doesn't even fucking know where to put his hands, hovering in the air like he's about to conduct a choral speaking.

So, Jake resorts to conveying his rage through the rearview mirror instead, hoping that his glare and frown are enough to make Jay feel bad. (They don't, Jay finds him cute instead).

Jungwon comes to save the day as he turns to the backseat. "Do you have everything with you?" All of them except Jake hum. He thinks he doesn't have his sanity anymore, but of course the younger boy pretends to ignore him.

Jungwon eyes each one of his friends, his gaze stopping longer at the sight of Jake gripping the leather seat, the white of his knuckles almost matching his face, and you smiling innocently at him. Jungwon badly wants to laugh.

Jake widens his eyes at Jungwon. Help me!

The younger boy gives him an indecipherable look before turning to face the front. "Alright. We're not turning back for you even if you forgot your PlayStation."

Jake wants to say that they might want to leave a certain Sim Jaeyun to save him from this misery, but all words are gone from his mind when the car starts forward with a sharp jolt. Your back meets his chest in a soft thud, punching air out of his lungs. Your ass pushes deeper into his lap and Jake nearly pierces the leather with his nails from how desperately hard he's gripping it.

"Oops, sorry!" Jay chimes from the driver seat, sounding far from sorry.

You straighten up and turn around, looking more sorry than your cousin. "You okay? Sorry about that, Jaeyunnie."

Oh, fuck. Please don't use that voice on him when he's one bump away from kissing your lips. You're so close it feels like you're breathing in the same air he exhales, so close he can see the faint, tiny freckles dusting your cheeks and the bridge of your nose.

"Yeah," he manages, voice hoarse like he's just swallowed a bucket of sand. "I'm okay."

There's a halt in your movement, like you're actually seeing him through the calm façade he's exuding. His breath catches when your eyes drop to his lips briefly, the bitten-red skin tingles under your heated gaze.

Then, after a moment, you smile at him so easily; as if the tension never existed, as if the pull was only one-sided.

"If you say so."

When he's met with your shiny hair again, Jake lets out a breath he unknowlingly held. Your voice fills up the space softly as you begin talking to Jungwon and Jay, all cheery and unrestrained while he's exerting mental training equivalent to physical labour of a building constructor to stop his dick from hardening every time you move.

He hears a snicker from his left and immediately meets with Riki's mischievous eyes. The younger boy mouths something that has Jake closing his eyes and leaning on the headrest in defeat.

'Don't get horny now, Jake hyung.'

Jake is worried that if it's not now, it'll be the next time Jay hits a bump.

Instead of a road bump, Jake's personal enemy turns out to be you.

Ten minutes in, everything is still going fine. Jake is still breathing, alive, and hasn't popped a boner that could traumatise you and get him banned from the car permanently. You also seem okay, still engrossed in a conversation with the cat-duo driving the car, talking about college and your winter trip to Japan.

For a moment, Jake selfishly thinks if his lap was that…sitable, seeing as you haven't shown any signs of discomfort yet. Or, to be fair, it has been barely ten minutes since they're en route, and though those minutes are enough to pull the others into a car nap, ten minutes feel like one round of orbit around the Sun when he has you sitting on his lap.

Jake can feel himself melt into the seat. Maybe this isn't so bad at all. Maybe he can make it to Sokcho without having to cut his dick off before anyone could see his hard-on. He just has to sit really quietly and will his mind to avoid teetering dangerous territory.

Yeap. Everything is fine.

Not until you decide to put your hands on his thighs.

Jake almost jolts at the contact, flexing his thighs instinctively when you place your perfectly manicured fingers on the surface of his jeans. It's a brief touch, one that can pass as accidental, but the lingering heat it leaves behind feels almost physical.

His eyes dart to the back of your head, trembling with nerves nearly frayed at the edges, gauging your reaction, and bites the bottom of his lips when you resume your conversation as if nothing happened. Or nothing really happened to you.

It's just a touch, for God's sake. Calm your dick down.

If a simple touch from you could unravel him this fast, what about other things? What if you hug him, or-or if you hold his hand, or—wait, is he wishing for other things to happen between you and him? (He does, but he knows that it won't happen.)

Jake gulps harshly and decides to enjoy the scenery instead. He stares hard out the window, so intense like he's memorising every species of the trees they pass by, mind lost in a whirlwind of horny thoughts clashing with rationality, when you do something again.

This time, it isn't an innocent touch on his thigh. It's an innocent move to hear Jungwon better. You lean forward, pushing your ass deeper into his lap simultaneously, offering your ear to Jungwon who seems to be sharing a secret about Jay. Jake's breath hitches and his hands almost come up to hold your waist, the friction sending heat through his body.

Fuck. He peels his eyes away from the window forcefully and follows down the dip of your spine to where your ass meets his crotch. Your position highlights the narrow of your waist and the width of your hips, all sinful curves that have him swallowing harder, something inside his pants threatening to stir alive. Jake closes his eyes.

Think of Jesus, Jake. Think of Layla. He absentmindedly fixes his glasses. Think of quantum physics. Think of—

"—Oh!" You squirm excitedly, round butt wiggling slightly against his cock. "Yes, I met her before!"

Jake hisses before he can stop himself, the sound serving like a knife cutting the conversation. You and Jungwon instantly turn to look at him, the latter wearing a mischievous expression when he sees the heat painting Jake's face red.

"Are you okay?" You prompt in concern, noticing how stiffly Jake is nodding at you.

"Y-Yeah. Good. I'm horgoony."

Freudian slip is gonna be the death of him.

Jay and Jungwon burst out laughing, catching the slip as fast as any dirty-minded man would. Jake's face turns a darker shade of red, avoiding your eyes whose brows now pinching in confusion.

"Horgoony?" You echo, pretty confident you have never heard of that strange word spoken before. Jake immediately shakes his head, panic creeping into his chest when Jungwon shows a sign of opening his mouth.

No! Do not let that orange cat speak! Jungwon only cares about his downfall!

"I feel horribly good! Yeah," Jake stammers, to hell with any logical reasoning. "Like, I feel good because we're on a road trip. But also kind of horrible because I get motion sickness sometimes."

Now that the string of the sentences has flowed out of his mouth, Jake thinks he is kind of making sense. Satisfaction blooms in his chest when you nod in understanding, because two conflicting emotions—feeling good and horrible—can exist simultaneously, right? Like the way he wants to push you from his lap and hide in the deepest part of the Sokcho forest forever but also craves to just grab your hips and pull you close and have his way with you—wait stop.

What a horrible, horny, nothing-good man you are, Sim Jaeyun.

"That does sound horrible." Jake snaps out of his thoughts when he registers your voice, nodding fervently to amplify the faux pity that he's just orchestrated.

You give him a sorry look, the one where it pulls the corners of your mouth down into a frown. Jake sighs in relief. You bought it. Thank God for his smart brain.

"Yeah. I think I'm just gonna take a nap," he adds, voice turning softer when you still look at him in concern. He feels a strange need to overexplain.

"Motion sickness happens because your eyes see one thing while your inner ears and muscles feel another. If I take a nap, it'll eliminate the visual stimuli that causes the conflict…" Jake trails off, catching himself before he could go on and on and on on why humans experience motion sickness, and possibly bore you to death. He shakes his head imperceptibly. "So—yeah. I should take a nap."

To his surprise, you only give him a warm smile. "I never knew that, Jaeyun. Then what's the correlation between motion sickness and playing your phone in a moving vehicle?"

Jake blinks behind his glasses, genuinely taken aback that you're actually listening instead of zoning out halfway through his rambling.

"Oh. Um." He clears his throat. "It's kind of the same concept. Your eyes are focused on something stationary—your phone—but your body still feels the movement of the car."

You hum softly, leaning back against him slightly, prompting him to continue. Jake immediately forgets how lungs work.

"S-So your brain gets confused because the signals don't match," he continues weakly. "Your eyes tell your brain you're sitting still, but your inner ears are like, 'No, we're moving.' It's like mixed signals, and our body doesn't like mixed signals."

His ears are warming up from how true the words are to the situation he's having with you.

"And right now you're seeing my stationary body while the car's moving," you continue with a subtle tilt of your mouth, "so you're nauseous and all dizzy now, right?"

Jake almost chokes to death. Did you know about his little problem? He blinks at you rapidly, hand itching to touch his glasses in a fit of nerves.

Oh my God. He's going to die. He's going to die and Jungwon will write 'Sim Jaeyun was a smart friend, died a horny man with a dick that never went down, a standing ovation to his contribution to Seoul National University' as his headstone epitaph. You know about it so Jake is going to die!

He stumbles with his own words. "I-I mean—It's actually—"

You give him a cheeky smile. "I'm just joking with you, Jaeyun. You're probably sick because you're having me on your lap like this."

You start digging into your front pocket, frowning when it's empty. Jake holds his breath when your hands move to your back pocket, looking for whatever it is that gets you so determined and his dick so excited whenever your finger brushes against his crotch. Jake is almost blue from not breathing.

He thinks this time he's really going to die.

"Found it!"

You offer your palm to him, where two mint candies sit idly on the soft surface. Jake's chest slowly feels lighter as air rushes in, no longer collapsing under the pressure of your searching hand accidentally brushing against him moments ago. He clears his throat.

You beam at him. "These will soothe your sickness, Jaeyunnie. Please take them."

Jake studies your face.

Do you know what you're doing to him? Was everything done on purpose, or are you really oblivious to everything?

He swallows and forces a nod, taking the candies from your palm, feeling a spark of electricity in his system when his fingers brush your skin.

"Thank you, Y/N."

You turn your back on him, resuming your conversation with Jungwon and Jay. All sweet and cotton candy, unaware of the turmoil he's going through. Jake stares at the candies in his hand, a mocking sign to his misery, and heaves out a quiet sigh. He glances at his wristwatch.

It feels like two world wars had happened but it's only been twenty minutes into the drive. An hour and forty minutes of horny torture remains for Sim Jaeyun to endure, and he's not sure if he's going to survive.

He slowly closes his eyes. Maybe sleep can help with horniness, too.

It does, but only for a moment, because Jake could swear he just blinked when you tap his shoulder a few times.

Jake blinks, half-groggy and half-alert. Did he have a wet dream of you and get hard in his unconsciousness? Is that why you woke him up?

But he's met with your apologetic face instead. "I'm sorry for waking you up," you whisper, trying not to wake other boys who are fast asleep. "But my back's sore. Can I lean on you for a moment?"

In a flash, all incoherent thoughts fly out the window. Guilt starts lodging in his chest as he realises—glancing at his watch—that you've been sitting straight for one hour. Before he knows it, Jake is already nodding at you, adjusting his seat to accommodate the new position.

"Y-Yes, you can."

God, he's such a loser. The word 'no' seems to disappear from his dictionary whenever you're around.

You reward him with an appreciative smile and waste no time to turn around and lean back softly on him. The moment your back touches his chest, Jake can feel his system kick start, a chemical reaction that he can never understand no matter how hard he studies Biology.

You physically relax into his chest. "This is so much better," you sigh, a dreamy smile on your face, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Then you tilt your head upwards to glance at him. "Is this okay for you?"

Jake hopes you can't feel how fast his heart is beating through the fabric of his shirt. The brown-haired boy nods wordlessly. "More than okay."

For a moment, you just stare at him, brilliant eyes holding his in a soft gaze. It's a silent minute full of everything unspoken, rendering him speechless and even more restless because no matter how smart he is, he could never decipher the meaning behind this look you're giving him. There's something you hide that he feels like he should know, like an open secret waiting for the right time for him to catch.

This time, Jake is even sure that you can hear his heartbeat.

Then, as if that moment never happened, you close your eyes and get comfortable.

"We should sleep, Jaeyun. Don't want you to get carsick again."

You nuzzle closer and Jake holds his breath, feeling the silky strands of your hair brushing against his jaw. His hands hover, not knowing where to land, though the pinch of your waist is where he wants to hold the most. Eventually, Jake settles on his thighs, watching the difference between his veiny hands and the smooth span of your thighs.

Is he still sleeping? Is he dreaming or are you really sleeping on his chest?

It seems that sitting in his lap really tired you out, because you're fast asleep in less than five minutes. The guilt in his chest amplifies at the sight of your closed eyes, breathing evening out as sleep overtakes your being. Jake bites his lips.

He's so shameless, napping to avoid getting turned on instead of caring for your being. He’s so horrible, worrying more about his hard-on than the fact that you’ve been uncomfortable for an hour. Jake wants to cry so bad.

Jake spends the rest of the ride watching you sleep. He fixes your hair when it falls over your face, tucking it behind your ear carefully, and then smiles to himself when he sees your pout. He blocks the sunlight with his hand when it's glaring on your skin through the window, not minding letting his hand redden from the harsh light. He instinctively holds your waist at a sharp turn, firm and secure, though he lets go just as fast as if it burns, afraid that it's not a touch you'd receive had you been conscious.

Other than the carnal desire he has suppressed for you, this road trip also makes him realise the depth of the feelings he actually harbours for you. He's so doomed. He's so doomed because in what universe would a hot, sweet, popular California girl like yourself, return back the feelings of a bland, studious, quiet Korean-Aussie boy like him?

In fictions. In another lifetime. But not in Sim Jaeyun's current universe right now.

However, the Sim Jaeyun in this universe also will never know peace.

Because just as he's getting comfortable with the you-watching routine that he just recently discovered, the road has another plan for him when Jay finally, and actually, hits a bump this time.

The first bump is a mild surprise. Jake gathers it's a small bump, one that Jay overlooks while getting excited over Bon Jovi playing on the rodeo. But the aftermath brings you settling deeper into him, pressing on him in a way that has his breath hitching. Jake holds your waist on instinct.

"Oh my God, I didn't see that," Jay mutters from the front.

Jake tries to steady his breath. That's…a shock. One that shatters the soft atmosphere he created while watching you, now replaced with the same tension he's been fighting the last hour.

Jake lets go of your waist when he assumes that it's just a one-time thing. But then the bump happens again, and instead of a solid, big one—it's shaky, like they're sliding through endless, tiny jagged rocks.

"Damn bro, this road needs fixing," Jay makes another commentary. He glances at the rearview mirror. "You good, Jake?"

Jake doesn't know what to answer. "I think I am," he mumbles, voice clipped.

Is it good that you're practically bouncing in his lap, adding more pressure with almost no interval for him to recover mentally? He thinks not. But Jay doesn't have to know that.

"We're almost there," Jungwon chimes in, navigating the map. There's a shakiness in his voice that comes from the vibration caused by the bumps. "Fifteen minutes at most. We found a shorter route just now and traffic was smooth."

Fifteen minutes.

Jake thinks he might actually die in fifteen minutes.

Another bump sends your body rocking against him softly, your sleeping face scrunching for a brief second before relaxing. His grip tightens.

Fuck.

If Jay doesn't stop the car and fix this damn road himself then he's definitely going to pop a boner soon.

Jake squeezes his eyes shut when another bump rattles through the car, and then again, and again, and again until Jake can barely separate one sensation from another anymore. Until he doesn't know where he starts and where you end anymore. You shift unconsciously, settling heavier against his chest before Jay hits another bump.

This time, Jake makes a mistake of looking down at you.

He didn't notice it before, too lost in his sappy, romantic feelings for you. But right now, it's actually so damn obvious that the angle from where he sits taller than you and you lean against him, he can easily see your cleavage past the neckline of your camisole.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The road doesn't stop shaking beneath the tires, and so does his pulse as he watches your breasts bounce with every bump that comes their way. Jake averts his eyes, so stiff and so strained, but can't help letting his gaze drift back to watch the soft mounds shake.

This is bad. This is very, very bad, and Jake is nothing but a bad fucking pervert.

A particularly rough patch of road sends the entire car jolting. Your body bounces against him harder this time, more pressure and more friction that Jake almost whimpers. He tips his head back, gulping harshly as the line of his long neck glistens with a sheen of sweat.

Inside his jeans, he can feel his cock kick.

Oh, fuck—he's definitely hard now.

Oh my fucking God.

"This is the last one, promise!"

Jake doesn't even register Jay's words, or the way your head hits his jaw from impact, because his internal system is flooded with horny-filled panic. He can feel it: his dick twitching and getting semi-hard from the continuous stimulation from your bouncing. He doesn't even realise that he's now clawing at his own thighs, seeking strength that could neutralise his blooming lust, or that you are finally awake.

"Are we almost there?" You ask groggily, blissfully unaware of the raging boner forming under your ass. You sit up when the coastal view greets your blurry vision, mouth gaping in awe.

"Oh, wow!" You gasp, always excited to visit Sokcho no matter how many times you've been there. "It's beautiful as always!"

The road is smooth now, but Jake's final torture arrives in the form of you bouncing, excitedly and consciously, in his lap. You wiggle in enthusiasm, urging Jungwon to pass your phone that's been charging at the front to take some pictures and send it to the family groupchat.

"Jungwon, Jaeyun, look at those seagulls!"

Jake is seeing no seagulls. He's only seeing white hot, painful pleasure as you move in his lap, his brain dissolving into useless static. His fingers twitch, itching to grab your waist and force you to stay still, but you're so excited that he almost didn't have the heart to do it.

"Did you see that?" You lean to the window, and then shift happily when you spot kites in the sky. "We should do that too! Hey, Jay, do you think you can—"

Jake finally has had enough.

The restraint that he's been holding onto finally breaks like a taut wire getting cut. His hands snap to your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, hips almost bucking up from the delicious friction alone. His lips drop to the shell of your ears, hot, ragged breath brushing the sensitive skin as his voice lowers an octave.

"Y/N," Jake licks his dry lips, the tip of his tongue peeking through. He watches with dark eyes as the hair on your neck stands straight under his unforgiving proximity.

"Stop fucking moving."

And that's the moment you feel it.

A bulge, hard and rigid and big, poking your ass from where you rest in his lap.

Oh my fucking God.

Sim Jaeyun is hard.

You freeze, breath hitching.

Neither of you dare to move. Not even your excitement of being back to your uncle's beach house, or Jay's questioning look from where you cut your sentence, can bring you to move. No.

You couldn't, not when Jake's hard dick is nudging at you right now, so tangible and unmistakably his.

The brown-haired boy is still panting in your ear, shooting tingles through your system. His grip on your waist is almost bruising, like he's trying very, very hard to hold back from overstepping lines that shouldn't be overstepped.

You hadn't meant for this to happen. Sure, Jake is fun to tease. That boy is all broken words and nervous glances whenever you're in his proximity, and it can't be helped when he blushes prettily too.

You just can't stop yourself from seeking his attention in your own way, because aside from being a pretty boy, Jake is also such a sweetheart and so, so smart. And in an age where intellligence is a scarcity, you absolutely adore smart guys.

Especially the one who isn't condescending and is actually eager to help people like him.

So, really—you hadn't meant for this to happen. Offering to become the one without a seat is a decision you made when you consider yourself to be lighter than most of the guys, but offering to sit in Jake's lap is definitely a decision born from personal bias. You kind of knew what it would cause—seeing how stiff and awkward Jake had been—but you let it go halfway through when the soreness in your back outweighs your desire to tease.

Which has now brought you to this situation.

The car's still moving like nothing happened, and the boys are slowly stirring to life one by one. Everything is normal, except for the nails digging into your waist and the deep timbre in your ear.

You swallow harshly, not daring to move. Jake is so close, so close that you can feel every movement of his chest. You sit still in his hold, trying not to wince from how hard he's gripping your hips, and how hot you find the situation is.

His dick, despite no movement is being made, only hardens further. Jake gasps almost imperceptibly, almost matching the way your breath leaves your mouth when you notice, again, just how big he is.

Fuck. Fuck, that's so hot. Sim Jaeyun is so hot and you can feel yourself slowly getting turned on.

Without any warning, as if driven by an invisible force that urges to look at him, you finally turn around.

And Jake looks absolutely wrecked.

Beads of sweat dot on his forehead, the furrow of his eyebrows showing restraint and constraint. His lips are red from how hard he's biting them, and his previously clean, smooth glasses are now fogged up and hazy. His eyes, glazed over with tamed lust, lock into yours, half-lidded and dark.

A breath catches in your throat.

This is not the Jaeyun you know.

Or, more accurately, this is not the Jaeyun he usually shows.

This is another side of him, like seeing Jake wearing short-sleeves and showing his arms for the first time. Gone are his round, puppy eyes, now replaced with this narrowed, slit gaze that makes you shiver under his heated stare. He used to be so nervous around you, and you can feel that he's nervous now, too, but his pent-up sexual frustration seems to outweigh any rational daily-Jake thoughts.

This is still Sim Jaeyun. Just a different, never-before-seen side of Sim Jaeyun.

"Are we finally there?" Riki, the last one to awaken, stretches beside the two of you. You don't even notice that the car has pulled up into the driveway of Jay's ridiculously huge beach house from how piercing Jake's gaze is holding your eyes captive now.

Jake bites his lips, the fog in his head slowly clearing up now that the car has stopped. As if snapping out of a daze, he quickly maneuvers you into Riki's lap instead, showcasing his strength that he often hides. The latter yelps at the sudden weight and grabs your waist on instinct, before Jake darts out of the car without looking back.

"Sim Jaeyun! Bring your own fucking luggage!" Jay shouts from the car boot, but the brown-haired boy has already disappeared behind the door.

You sit, stunned in silence, still frozen and unable to speak. Not until Riki nudges at you, Heeseung and Sunoo impatiently asking the both of you to move so that they can get out.

"Are you okay, noona? Is hyung okay?"

You nod. You give the youngest a strained smile as you slowly move out of his lap and out of the car, careful not to start another war of hormones.

"We're okay."

The lie tastes bitter on your tongue.

Jake is avoiding you.

It's a foreseeable aftermath. It's inevitable. But it pains you regardless.

It gets to the point where he straight up refuses sitting next to you at dinner, which raises some eyebrows and teasing from the boys. But you know better.

He is deliberately avoiding you.

It frustrates you, really. Because every summer, it is your thing with Jake to sit in silence in the morning and read at the porch, enjoying the sunrise over wordless, comfortable silence. But now he purposely sleeps in, waking up later than usual, leaving you alone in the cold of dawn, your paperback copy of The Inheritance Games left untouched on your thighs.

At movie nights, he'll be the last one to join, just to see where you sit first to avoid being near you. He'll become extra quiet when you speak, acting like the floor is more interesting than your face, not even sparing you a glance.

And your patience is wearing thin. Almost thinner than the bikini you're wearing right now.

Fine. He can ignore you all he wants, act like he didn't just pop a boner after letting you sit in his lap. He can pretend like you never affected him, pretend like nothing happened, but one thing you know is that Jake could never betray his attraction for you.

So, be fucking it. You don't care if it's petty to pick the skimpiest bikini you own today, the one in hot pink that always contours the line of your cleavage, perfectly bunching up your tits and making them look rounder. The one that you know will drive Jake crazy from how bouncy your ass looks, basically confirmed when his eyes can't seem to stop trailing after you even after you dive into the pool.

You come to the surface with a gaping mouth, letting the water slide down the lines on your body, and make no show of hiding yourself from looking straight at Jake.

That coward has the nerves to look away after staring at you like a touch-deprived teenager.

"Is Sim Jaeyun single?"

The reason why you always agree to join the all-boys road trip is because it's not exactly all-boys. There are girls who live nearby. Girls you're acquainted with from how often you follow your cousin to his beach house every summer. Spoiled rich girls whose parents come from the same tax bracket as your and Jay's family.

And one of those girls is shamelessly checking Jake out now, hungry eyes drinking in the way his wet, long-sleeved shirt sticks to his torso, outlining the faint lines of his abdomen that he never shows. She's sitting on the edge of the pool, feet-dipping while you take a break from your swim.

You narrow your eyes, an ugly spark of jealousy blooming in your chest. You don't like the implication of the question, and you absolutely hate the way she's looking at him now.

"Don't even think about it."

Your neighbour only shrugs and continues her eye-fucking. "He's so my type. So nerdy, so smart. I wonder how he'll look like without the glasses?"

You will poke her eyes before she gets the chance to. "Use your own imagination," you hiss, almost bitter when you realise that you also have barely seen him without his glasses.

Jake has sensitive eyes that react badly to contact lenses, which explains his preference for thick glasses than going out without them. Even now, when everyone is fooling around Jay's enormous pool, his thick, black-rimmed glasses perch on the bridge of his tall nose—the nose you hope you can put into good use one day.

The girl only hums, half-listening to you. She sighs dreamily. "I can't believe that I have his number."

At this point, the jealousy has turned so ugly you're actually seeing green. Or red. Or whatever that Cortis song sounds like. "You have his number?"

She finally pays attention to you. "Yeap! I asked him yesterday. I don't know what I should say to start the conversation though," she pouts, glancing back at Jake who's now sitting on the side with Sunghoon, sipping on coconut water. "Should I ask him if I can join dinner at your house tonight?"

Jake gave his number to her?

You grit your teeth. The hurt has materialised into a knife, twisting in your chest in a sharp pain disguised in jealousy. So, while Jake's been avoiding you like a fucking plague, he's been spending his time giving away his number to any curious girl? He's been talking with other girls while leaving you with radio silence, one that you didn't deserve because it was him who popped that boner?!

You are the one who's supposed to ignore him—not the other way around!

What a fucking loser.

You can't stop the bitterness from leaking through your voice when you finally speak.

"It's me and Jay that you should ask—not Sim Jaeyun. And no, you cannot join dinner at my house tonight."

You leave her dumbfounded by the pool, seething in anger that the water on your skin could steam from the heat alone. You march to the slide doors, giving Jake and Sunghoon the nastiest side-eye you could ever give when the latter calls out to you, and slam the door behind.

Whatever. Or not whatever. Sim Jaeyun is a fucking pervert and a jerk and a coward, and stupidly hot while being so oblivious to how hot he actually is. Whatever! You don't care.

You don't care that he barely speaks a word to you. You don't care that he leaves any room you walk into. You don't care that he's flirting with other girls and giving away his number willingly when you had his on default for being Jay's younger cousin, and from Jay himself at that.

The corner of your eyes burn.

You wish you didn't care.

You're ignoring Jake.

Jake knows this the moment you no longer come to the porch to read. Instead, every morning is now spent in the garden with Jungwon, tending to Jay's mom's flowers. After, you'll brew some hibiscus tea that you pluck from the garden and share it with Sunoo and Riki.

And when he walks into the kitchen to get some food, you no longer meet his eyes, or save that apple that he knows you know he likes to eat for breakfast. You let Heeseung eat all of them! It's so—so unfair, because he likes apples and you know it!

It sends Jake to the end of a cliff. Why are you suddenly being like this?

His sanity is stretching thin as he tries to work his brain. Why the sudden change? Is it because of his silence? But he's just embarrassed to face you! Or—did you find out about it?

Genuine horror floods his mind when he thinks, oh no, you must've realised how disgusting he truly is. How dirty-minded and perverted he is, that every day he has to take cold showers three times a day whenever he catches a glimpse of you.

You in your sleepwear. You in your casual shirt. You in shorts.

You in bikini.

Jake has fallen out of any point of salvation, because God, could any man get this horny just from a mere look? In the back of his mind, he knows it's the image of you sitting in his lap that ignited the beginning of his undoing, but the continuous hard-on he gets whenever he's around you is definitely, entirely on him.

And Jake, oh so sweet Jake, doesn't dare touch himself to the thought of you. No. He'd rather leave his balls blue, take cold showers every morning, every evening, and every night, and let his dick go from standing tall like a national anthem was being played to becoming flaccid under the cold water without any action. He doesn't even have the guts to touch his own fucking dick, the guilt blocking him from doing anything to relieve himself.

So—did you find out about it? Because if you did, then Jake could understand the cold shoulders you're giving him.

But Jake is a mere man—maybe a bit perverted, and a bit too horny despite his image, so he couldn't stop himself from getting hard the moment he sees you walking into the living room in nothing but an oversized white tee that falls off your shoulder. He grabs the nearest cushion and places it on top of his crotch, blood already rushing south when he sees the strap of your black bra.

This is why he has to go to church sometimes; to balance everything out. Because Einstein never talked about the solution or formula to cure men's (Jake's) sexual desires that seem endless. And sexual desires that come from seeing a strap of a bra alone.

Whatever it is, Jake's soul has almost left his body, already tuning out of his surroundings. He doesn't even realise that Jay and Riki are wrestling for the TV remote, and accidentally sending said remote flying onto the floor just a few feet away from him.

He only comes to when you stand in front of him, back facing him, and bend over to pick up the remote.

You. Bend. Over. In. Front. Of. Him.

In a second, Jake has a full view of your ass. The shirt rides up slightly, revealing white shorts that stretches across the round flesh as you bend over to reach the remote and Jake feels like he's brought back to the car when he was fighting demons as you unintentionally ground his crotch with every movement.

His grip on the cushion tightens, head dizzy from the way you practically shove your butt in his face.

Jake releases a shaky exhale.

He can see the outline of your panties and wonders if it matches your black bra.

And he can see the outline of his doomed future if he stays in the living room any longer.

"Whose turn is it to pick the movie?" You casually ask, now straightening up as if you just didn't flash Jake with your perky ass.

"Jake hyung," Jungwon replies from the center of the long couch, carding his hand through Sunoo's silky hair, the blonde who's now laying down his head on his lap. "It's his turn."

Your face remains expressionless as you turn to the glasses boy. But instead of taking the remote from your hand, Jake stands up, avoiding eye contact and clutching the cushion tight over his crotch.

"I-I suddenly feel sick! Gonna skip tonight's movie, bye!"

Then he flees the living room, leaving behind six confused men and one very angry, very upset girl.

Jake thinks he deserves a medal for surviving the living room.

Or perhaps an exorcism.

The moment his bedroom door clicks shut behind him, Jake drops the cushion onto the floor and drags both hands down his face with a groan. His glasses nearly fall off his nose in the process.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

He paces once across the room, then twice.

Outside, he can still hear the muffled sounds of the movie downstairs—Riki yelling dramatically at a character, Sunoo complaining about spoilers, Jay laughing too loudly. Normal sounds. Normal people.

Meanwhile Jake feels like he's one accidental glimpse of your shoulder away from committing a crime.

His eyes squeeze shut.

That white shirt.

The black bra strap.

The way you bent over in front of him so casually, completely unaware that Jake nearly ascended right there on Jay's living room couch.

"Fuck," he whispers weakly to himself.

Jake drops onto the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees.

Maybe he should take another cold shower. That would make four today.

"I should sleep," he mutters to himself, breath shaky. "S-Sleep can help with motion sickness and horniness."

With a newfound resolution, he turns off the lamp and settles under the blanket. His movement is stiff and awkward, overly aware of the tent straining his shorts. Once he pulls the blanket over his chest, Jake closes his eyes, forcing sleep into his system.

Only, the image of you swimming in your hot pink bikini flashes behind his eyelids.

"No, stop. Not that," he whispers, brows scrunching in protest. He shakes his head, as if physically removing the image away, and tries again.

This time, the image of you in his lap comes back, stripped down to heated skin and soft breaths, your body moving against his in ways that make his stomach twist.

His eyes fly open. The image is so clear and vivid, thanks to his photographic memory and insane imagination—the very thing that's been saving him in the academic department now serving as the tool that brings him to his downfall.

His cock twitches involuntarily.

"N-No," he pants, chest moving rapidly. He grips the edge of the blanket, knuckles turning white. "I—Stop—"

Then he remembers just now: you bent over, giving him a delicious access to his ass-shaped sufferings, and Jake almost whimpers from the flashback alone.

The room rises in temperature, the air conditioner doing nothing to tone down the feverish lust spreading through his body. Jake finally relents and discards the blanket, glasses all fogged up as he stares at the bulge under his shorts.

"I'm sorry," he whimpers, slipping off his shorts and boxers until they bunch up around his knees. "I'm so fucking sorry."

His cock springs free, standing tall in the dimness of his room. The tip glistens, already drooling with precum that shows no sign of stopping. With shaky hands, hesitance still edging around his lust, Jake finaly touches himself.

He has to bite down hard on his lips to muffle the sound threatening to escape. His hand stutters, the feeling of finally rubbing some relief after days of holding back comes crashing down on him. His head spins from how heavy his cock is in his hold, veins protuding like they're going to combust.

He slowly starts moving his hand, lathering up precum to ease the glide. His head tips back, a strangled sound catches behind his throat.

"Oh, God," his head spins, sparks of lust bursting at the tip of his fingers. "Oh, fuck—"

Through his hazy gaze of the blurry lenses, Jake tightens his grip slightly. A moan escapes his lips at the force, his cock only getting heavier in his hand. He plays with the mushroom tip of his dick, thumbing the slit and hissing when it sends pleasure up his spine.

"Ngh—" his eyes squeeze shut, brain putting up pieces of his memory of you. His body jerks when the rough pad of his thumb touches the underside of his cock, and as if on cue, the image of your jiggly breasts inside the car flashes behind his closed eyes.

"Fuck—Y/N," Jake sobs, picking up his pace. His wrist turns and flicks, biceps flexing hard at the speed he's going. Guilt starts accumulating inside his chest the more he thinks of you, of your voice, of your gaze, of your scent—but guilt isn't enough to stop Jake from chasing his own release.

"'So sorry," he chokes, letting go of his bottom lip, bitten-red and swollen. He imagines it was your hand instead of his, smaller and softer, with those manicured nails that he loves so much. How tiny your hand would look around his hard dick, trying to grip his length in its fully erect state.

Jake isn't inexpereinced. He's had his own fair share of sexcapades with a few people, and he's always been told that he's bigger than average. The big dick that he hides under his pants, further concealed by his nervous persona that only certain girls find cute.

But seeing his state right now, Jake thinks he's the furthest thing from cute.

He's pathetic.

Pathetic and gross and disgusting, feeling bad for jerking off to the thoughts of you but still unable to retract his hand and stop. The sound of his cries that he fails to hide fills up the space, and for the first time in days he's very glad that he won paper-rock-scissors during room assignment.

"Oh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," he chants, mouth gaping open when he can feel himself close. His wrist is already tired and numb from the relentless pace he's set, the slick sound of his sinful act matching the roar of his blood rushing in his ears.

"Please, please, 'm gonna cum," he sobs, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. His hips lift off the mattress. "Please—"

"Do not fucking cum, Sim Jaeyun."

Jake's entire body locks up.

His wrist stills immediately, pleasure crashing into horror so fast it makes his stomach twist. For a second, he genuinely thinks his heart stops beating.

The room goes dead silent except for his ragged breathing.

Through fogged-up lenses and teary eyes, Jake stares at you standing by the door, unable to process the fact that you're actually here.

That you heard him.

That you saw him.

Oh my fucking God.

His hand jerks away from himself like he’s been burned, chest heaving violently as he scrambles to sit up straighter. The blanket tangles around his legs from how abruptly he moves.

"I—"

Nothing comes out.

Jake has never felt this level of humiliation before.

Not when he failed his chemistry olympiad in tenth grade. Not when he tripped in front of his entire lecture hall. Not even when Jungwon found his hidden Pokémon card collection at nineteen.

This is worse. So much worse.

Because it's you.

You, standing there in that oversized white shirt slipping off your shoulder again, eyes dark and unreadable as you look at him sprawled across the bed like something shameful.

Jake feels sick. His face burns so hot he thinks he might actually pass out.

"S-Sorry," he chokes out instinctively, because apologising is the only thing his brain knows how to do right now. "I didn't—I wasn't—I—"

His voice cracks miserably.

Jake is going to cry.

What should he even say in this situation? Sorry that you caught him jerking off to you? Sorry that he's such a nerd, such a loser that the only time he could talk smoothly with you was when he was defining what motion sickness was, but never had the courage to tell you how much he likes you and how much you affect me? Sorry that he's such a pervert that he thinks of you in positions way too inappropriate to be just friends?

The weight of his arousal sits heavy against his thigh, a testament to a newfound, lifelong embarrassment that he'll carry to his grave.

Jake squirms under your heated gaze, and quickly covers his crotch with his blanket when you slip into his bedroom wordlessly. The door clicks shut, the sound amplified by the heavy silence hanging in the air. His body tenses up.

Oh my God—he messed up, didn't he? Jake hangs his head low in shame, tears gathering along his lashlines.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to…"

His vision turns blurry. Fuck, you must hate him now.

"I-It's wrong—I know that—I'm sorry—ah!"

Jake looks up in surprise when your bold hand cups his erection. There's angry lines in your forehead, a sneer on your mouth, but the nasty look you're giving him does nothing to soothe down his arousal.

If anything, twisted as it is—it turns him on even more.

"Couldn't even look me in the eye downstairs," you begin, "but you here you are, jerking off to me like I wouldn't find out?"

The venom in your voice hurts him. You're being mean with your words, and it hurts his feelings but Jake couldn't care less. His mind is a messy jumbles of guilt and pleasure and shame, so all he does is cry and shake his head.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N—"

"Are you really sorry?" you tighten your grip on his cock, one knee dipping into the mattress. "Your dick doesn't seem sorry though."

Jake wants to cry—oh, he's already crying. His hand curls into the sheets beneath him, unable to form coherent words when you start rocking the heel of your palm on his hard-on. The friction from the blanket and the pressure from your hand only spark electric pleasure through his system.

Within seconds, Jake is all hard again—even harder than before.

"Tell me, Jaeyunnie. Did all of this happen because I sat in your lap?"

Jake whimpers pathetically. You knew. Of course you knew. You're not only hot and pretty and kind, you're also smart like him, so in tune with your surroundings. You're a little mean right now, but it's okay because Jake believes that he deserves this after avoiding you without any explanation.

"Answer me, Sim Jaeyun."

"Yes," he croaks, shame burning his face red. His eyes screw shut. The admission sets his being on fire, skin flushed from embarrassment. "O-Oh, God, y-yes."

He cracks one eye open when you don't reply. Instead, he's met with your fiery gaze. The edges have softened with lust, like you're also affected by this, but you're good at keeping your control.

Unlike him, who's unraveling like a loose thread under your touch alone.

Jake almost whines when you retract your hand, but the sound is muffled with a gasp when you yank the blanket open. He instinctively closes his crotch area with his hands, but you're fast to slap his wrists away.

"I'm so pissed off, Jaeyun," you mutter, swinging your leg over his thighs so now you're straddling him. You fix him with your sharp eyes, hand finding his dick again.

"You've been acting like we're strangers and it hurts me so bad."

Jake's mouth hangs open as you gather his precum and start working your wrist around his cock. His brain barely registers your words, too lost in a cloud of lust, but when he finally processes it, he desperately shakes his head.

He wants to apologise again and again and again, because he is truly sorry—he didn't know how affected you were. How could he not, when you're always described as everything out of his league, but he's always described as everything that doesn't fit your type?

"I'm sorry, I was just—fuck—just ashamed—" he gasps, hips bucking into your touch. "Didn't mean to—t-to hurt y—ngh, Y/N, faster please."

You coo at him, feigning sympathy as you set a ruthless pace on his cock. Jake is big—something that isn't a surprise anymore since that day you sat in his lap—but the sheer size of him is enough to make your mouth water and your panties damp.

Damn these nerdy boys. Acting all shy and innocent when they have this monstrousity hiding behind those ugly glasses.

"Faster? You wanna cum, Jaeyunnie?" you tilt your head. Jake nods frantically. "I don't think you deserve it, though. Why not ask from those girls you gave your number to?"

Something sharp twists in his stomach. Jake's eyes fly open, almost cowering when you give him a distasteful look. He grabs your arms desperately and shakes his head.

"N-No! She asked me first—" you put more pressure and Jake damn near loses his mind. "—said she needs—help—w-with Physi—cs—"

You roll your eyes. It's that easy to fool him? Can't he see the way those girls fuck him with their eyes? Without waiting for his sentence to finish, you sink down and take him in your mouth.

"Oh, fuck!" Jake screams, accidentally thrusting up his hips. He bites his lips, glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose as you take him deeper, tracing the line of his veins with your sinful tongue. "Oh, Y/N—please."

You hum around his length, tongue swirling as you hollow your cheeks to deepen the suction. Jake nearly busts from that alone, mind melting into a puddle of your name, the wet heat of your mouth serving as a better pleasure than his own hand.

You start bobbing your head up and down, marveling in the way the weight of his dick sits on your tongue. He's so big that you're so close to choking, but you don't care. You need to remind Jake how stupid he's been acting and how stupid he is if he thinks that you were not just as attracted toward him.

Jake sobs into his hands, hips jerking with every touch of his tip hitting the back of your throat. His head is getting dizzier, he can feel the coil in his stomach getting tighter and he knows that anytime soon, he will come undone on your skillful tongue.

But just as he's about to reach that high, you let go of him with a pop.

"No!" Jake whines, tears sliding down his cheeks. You're so mean. "P-Please let me cum."

"Not yet, nerdy boy." You mutter, red lips slick with saliva and precum. Jake can only sob, dick throbbing in need and desperation.

This is the punishment he deserves for being a jerk. He knows that, but he can't seem to stop crying. God, he's so pathetic.

Then he feels movement on his thighs. He blinks through the foggy lenses and lets out a breathless moan when you lift up your shirt and shorts and discard them away, leaving you in nothing but a pair of bra and panties. His mouth starts salivating at the display of your beautiful body, and Jake swears he almost cums when he sees that you're indeed wearing black panties.

Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Just as he imagined—God, you're so perfect he wants to kiss you.

But instead of a kiss, you push his at his chest instead. "Lie down."

And like the obedient puppy that he is, Jake follows your word, carefully descending his back onto the mattress. He's still sniffling from the previous denial, but now it's mixed with anticipation of what's to come when you hover above him.

You trace a gentle finger along the tall bridge of his nose, a barely-there touch that makes him shiver. With a slow tap on the tip of his nose, you finally speak.

"Did anyone ever ride your nose, Jaeyunnie?"

H-His nose?

Girls always compliment his nose, but he's never given it many thoughts as to why they did that. "N-No. Never."

There's a wicked smile on your face as you stand on your knees. Jake watches with a mouth gaping open as you make a show of shimmying down your panties, painfully and traitorously slowly that he almost rips it with his hand.

"Ah, what a shame," you sigh dreamily. "Guess I have to be the first one then."

Once your panties are out of the picture, Jake is instanly hit with a wave of your arousal. Your pussy glistens under the moonlight, soaked with slick and dripping with need. Jake inhales shakily, stopping himself from darting out his tongue to get a taste.

Fuck. He's sure he has actually died in the car and this is heaven because not even in his wildest dream did he get to have you like this.

Too lost in his reverie, Jake belatedly notices that you have removed his glasses. Despite your mean words and your mean actions, the caresses of your thumb on his cheeks are so gentle that he thinks he's hallucinating.

"You're so handsome, Jaeyun," you murmur. "But I bet you'll look better buried between my thighs."

You give him no time to recover from your crude words when you slowly move to straddle his head. Then, with a hand in his hair, you descend, letting the tip of his nose nudge at your clit.

And oh my fucking God—you smell so divine.

"Ah, Jaeyunnie," you moan, rocking your hips slowly to test the waters. "Your nose feels so good."

You sound even more divine. Jake's eyes roll to the back, savouring the way your sinful moans fall on his ears as you use his nose to get off. The bridge of his nose slides through your folds—wet and sticky and so sweet that he can't get enough of it.

Jake wraps his arms around your thighs to give you support, and another moan escapes your lips upon seeing his veiny arms around your supple skin. He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, groaning despite your cunt suffocating him, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure to your system.

"Ngh—Jaeyun—"

He can't breathe, and he can't hear properly from how hard you're clamping his head with your legs, but he can't deny that this is the best way to die. Being suffocated by your leaking pussy sounds like a dream death compared to dying in Jay's old SUV.

You keep your rhythm, rocking your hips back and forth, grinding your clit on his nose and dragging your folds on the tall bridge until the sharp tip of his nose catches at your hole. The grip you have in his hair hurts his scalp, but everything is worth the pain when Jake can watch you fall apart on his face, his own cock pulsing with a trembling need to cum.

"Ah—ah—Jaeyun oppa—"

Fuck. Fuck that sacred nickname.

The dynamics between you two often makes Jake forget the fact that he is indeed older than you. Coming from the States, it's uncommon for you to address people with such honorifics.

But right now, using that very honorific against him ignites something inside him; a carnal desire that's been thrumming low in his guts, waiting to be unleashed.

This time, Jake barely stops himself from stealing a taste. He darts out his tongue, prodding your hole with the tip, and hums in satisfaction when your stance falters slightly.

"Don't," you hiss, but there's no heat in it. Jake takes it as a sign to continue, licking more into your weeping cunt until your pace turns sloppy.

He doesn't care. You're probably gonna be so mad at him and punish him more, but whatever it is you have prepared can wait. Right now, Jake is having the best pussy of his life—barely breathing but still eating so, so fucking well.

"Jaeyun—stop—"

"No," Jake protests when you try to get up, pulling you down until the full weight of your body rests on his face.

Oh God, choking on pussy has never felt so good.

"Sim Jaeyun!" You squirm, feeling the stirring inside your belly getting wilder. Despite your weak attempts, your hips keeps grinding on his nose, showing no signs of stopping. You throw your head back.

You knew his nose would be the best thing to ride on, but hearing the slurps of your slick and his saliva—the sinful noises of him feasting on your cunt—makes you almost regret not letting him eat you out first.

"Ngh—Jaeyun—I'm close—"

Jake pulls your hips harder, letting you grind your clit on the tip of his nose as his tongue pushes into your hole mercilessly. You let out a high-pitched scream, muscles pulling tight at his ministrations. The double stimulations are fast pushing you over the edge.

Soon, white hot pleasure crashes into you, your vision turning black momentarily. It's so blurry and messy that you haven't realised that you've been screaming his name raw, hips unrelenting to chase the high. Jake swallows every drop of your sweet nectar, moaning into your spasming hole as he licks it clean.

Fuck. He's already desperate to have another round.

When you come down from your orgasm, hair matted to your forehead, you look down at him furiously.

"Let me go! I told you not to do it!" You attempt to sit up, but Jake doesn't let go, shaking his head with a pout. His nose and chin are drenched with your release, it's so sinful and filthy and you can't lie that you like seeing him so wrecked and fucked over like this.

"Can I have more? Please," he begs, kissing your inner thigh unhurriedly. He's already so addicted to the taste of you, Jake thinks he's gonna die if he doesn't have another fill. "I'll be so good to you, Y/N. Wanna eat you out so bad."

You grit your teeth, pushing away the temptation to save your pride. "No. Get up, Jaeyun."

But Jake is stubborn. He's so desperate to have more of you that he doesn't mind if he's leaving his own cock neglected and balls blue. "Please, I need it bad," he nudges at your pussy with his finger, pupils blown wide at the strings of sticky cum decorating your folds. "Fuck, please, Y/N, I want to eat you out."

"I said get up, Jaeyun."

"Y/N—"

"Jake."

The sharpness in your voice cuts through the haze instantly.

Jake stills immediately.

The desperation in his eyes flickers into something softer, more uncertain, like a scolded puppy finally realising he’s crossed a line. His grip on your thighs loosens at once, chest rising and falling hard beneath you.

The sound of his English name on your tongue feels foreign and almost painful, because it lacks the usual warmth and intimacy that your 'Jaeyun' usually holds. Yet, something inside him pulses harder, liking the change more than he'd like to admit.

“S-Sorry,” he whispers automatically, voice rough. “I just…”

He doesn’t even know how to explain it. How could he? That hearing you moan his name made him lose every coherent thought in his brain? That he’s spent days trying to stay away from you only to end up here, beneath you, completely ruined anyway?

You study him for a long moment before finally shifting off his face.

“Sit up.”

Jake obeys instantly.

The movement is clumsy and needy. His hair is a mess, lips swollen, face still flushed from lack of oxygen and desire. Without his glasses, his eyes look unbearably open like this—too honest, too vulnerable.

You cup his jaw gently, the touch losing its cruelty. Jake melts into it.

"There he is," you murmur softly, fixing his bangs that are obscuring his eyesight.

Jake can feel his heart stutter traitorously. This version of you—tender and sweet—a glimpse of the usual-you, is always more dangerous than any teasing.

Wordlessly, you tug at his shirt, and Jake obediently holds up his arms to let you peel away the fabric. Your eyes flick downward, amusement tugging at your lips.

"You know," you start, fingers trailing slowly down his sculpted chest, "for someone who acted terrified of touching me in the car…"

He groans softly, already embarrassed.

"…You were pretty damn desperate down there, Jaeyun."

His face burns hotter. Fine, he's just a touch-starved man, desperate for you in every way possible. But how could he not? Have you even looked at yourself?

"I-I can't help it…" His eyes drop to your lips. "You tasted so good."

A breathy chuckle escapes you, quiet and fond. But to Jake's ears, he's already hearing the wedding bells chime.

And suddenly the humiliation twisting in his chest eases into something warmer when you climb into his lap again, turning slowly until your back presses against his chest.

The exact same position. That fucking position in the car that has his mind on an endless frenzy that he thinks he was genuinely getting crazy.

Jake goes completely still beneath you.

“Oh,” you whisper, settling against him deliberately. “Now you’re quiet again?”

His hands hover uncertainly near your hips, like he still can’t believe he’s allowed to touch you.

“You’re mean,” he mumbles weakly against your shoulder. You laugh, one hand patting his hair as the other one aligning his neglected cock on your entrance.

"But I know you like it, Jaeyunnie."

At the same time you presses on the nickname, you sink onto his cock slowly, letting the bulbous head of his length spear you open.

The both of you moan simultaneously. Jake's hands find puchase on your waist, trying his best to stop from manhandling you to just fucking bounce on his dick and letting you adjust. You, on the other hand, let the stretch burn, your walls spasming to accommodate his length.

"S-So big," you stutter, taking him inch by inch. Jake drops his head on your shoulder, his own breathing ragged. "So—full—"

When he finally fits inside you to the brim, you let out a long, drawn-out moan. He fills you up so good that you can feel every vein against your walls, every pulse kissing your insides. It's a dizzying experience that prompts you to start moving your hips.

Jake’s fingers dig into your waist, trembling.

Not because he wants to stop you.

Because he’s trying so hard not to lose himself completely.

The position alone is enough to send him spiraling—your back against his chest, your body in his lap exactly like the car ride, except now there’s no seatbelt digging into his side, no boys teasing from the front seat, no restraint left between the two of you.

Just you and him.

And the devastating realisation that you wanted him too.

Jake lets out a broken sound against your shoulder when you move again, his forehead falling against your skin. His entire body feels feverish, overwhelmed by too much sensation and too many emotions crashing into him at once.

"Wasn't this what got you so hard, Jaeyunnie?" You pant between breathless moans. "Me in your lap, bouncing on your cock like this?"

"Ngh—" A strangled noise escapes his throat. Jake watches with bated breath as your hands find the clasp of your bra and finally let the two soft mounds free. Now, he badly wants you to turn around, eager to relive the scene of your bouncy breasts in Jay's car.

"Did you not—ah—crave this?"

You arch your back, pleasure tingling every nerves as his cock drags against your walls. Jake feels his dick throb inside your hole, the same position that ruined him now had him completely at your mercy.

"S-So tight," he whimpers, mouth falling open at the way you clench around his cock and roll your hips. "S-So fucking tight, Y/N, fuck."

Jake clings onto you desperately, bucking his hips to chase your movement. But you hold down a firm hand on his thigh, completely in charge.

"Don't," you warn, grinding down on him in a way that makes your ass ripple. "Or I'll get up and leave."

Jake freezes instantly.

The warning slices straight through him, sharp and effective. His hands tighten on your waist, but he forces his hips back against the mattress despite every instinct screaming at him to chase you harder.

“O-Okay,” he breathes quickly. “Okay. Sorry.”

God, he sounds wrecked.

You can feel the way his thighs tremble beneath yours, the strain in his breathing every time you move your hips slowly against him. Jake drops his forehead between your shoulder blades with a weak groan, like simply holding himself back is physically painful.

"I'm still mad at you," you murmur. You roll your hips again, faster this time, and Jake nearly whimpers into your shoulder. His jaw clenches so hard he might pop a vessel.

"Are you sure you're not the one—" you moan, your thighs burning from how fast you're exerting yourself. The wet sound of skin hitting skin starts getting louder the harder you slam down your hips. "The one who's being—mean?"

Jake sobs into your skin, half-regretting, half-dizzy. The tight heat of your cunt pulses and flutters around his dick and he genuinely feels horrible for only thinking using his other head now.

Even so, he still manages to apologise again. "I'm s-sorry—"

You clench around him on purpose. Jake digs his nails deeper. "Fuck—"

"Stop fucking apologising," you seethe, voice trembling as you feel your release getting near. "Delete her number or I'll sit in Sunghoon's lap when we get back to Seoul."

There's no bite in your threat. It's just a spur-of-the-moment kind of things, one that you say just to rile him up.

But Jake takes your words like a verdict. He snakes an arm around your waist, lips worshipping your skin in desperate, wet kisses.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, darling," he begs, tears clinging to his lashes. He bites his lips in an attempt to stop himself from moaning because he's so, so close. "I will block her. Fuck—I will delete her number. P-Please don't sit with S-Sunghoon—"

His speech is interrupted by a high-pitched whine. Jake hasn't come all night, he's nothing more than a thread waiting to snap. The moment you bounce harder and faster, the supple skin of your butt jiggling wilder, Jake can feel that he's about to come.

"Y/N—ah—p-puh—lease—" he whimpers, voice scratching at his throat. "'M close, 'm g-gonna cum—"

But he should've known that you're so, so mean.

The moment you lift off his cock, Jake genuinely sobs out loud, thrashing under you.

"No! No, please—" he chokes, hiding his crying face behind his hands, too shattered when his orgasm being denied again. "Please, no—I wanna cum, please."

You turn around and the sight of him—red-faced, wet cheeks, lips trembling—it softens your heart. You quickly pull his wrists and rest his hands on your hips, your own cupping his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, baby," you shush him, blowing kisses to the tip of his nose as you take him again. Jake whimpers quietly. "I'm so sorry—I'll let you cum this time, hm?"

Jake weakly nods, then lets out a soft moan at the familiar feeling of your walls enveloping him. You move again, already sore, but you no longer have it in you to torture your poor, poor Jaeyun. This time, you immediately begin with a fast pace, giving him a show of your tits bouncing with every thrust.

"Ah—fuck—Jaeyunnie—" you bite your lips, expression so erotic that it has the brown-haired boy drooling. "Glasses—like you better with glasses."

Jake is too dazed to register your words, so you pick the glasses on your own and put them on him. And there he is—your sweet, sweet boy, your Jaeyunnie that you adore so much, your Jaeyun that thinks it's bad for wanting you this much.

"S-So—handsome, Jaeyunnie," you roll your hips, chest arching into his face. "My nerdy boy, you're mine, hm?"

Jake physically cannot take it anymore. The sight of you on top of him, bouncing on his cock like your life depends on it, putting on his glasses and calling him yours—it's too much for Sim Jaeyun who's never been given this kind of attention and affection.

Especially from you.

His lips move, but you can barely hear him.

"Hm? What did you say?"

"I said I'm sorry, Y/N," his nails dig into your waist. "I'm so fucking sorry, please don't be mad at me."

Your brows furrow in confusion, but before you know it, Jake is already flipping you around, changing your position in one swift movement. You have half a second to gain your breath before the boy hovering over you pulls you closer by your ankles and throws your legs over his shoulders.

"I'm s-sorry," Jake stutters, slipping his dick back into your cunt and starts thrusting fast. "I-I can't hold it anymore."

Despite the showcase of his strength, Jake looks absolutely ruined. There's a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but from the pace he's railing you, you know that his lust ovverrides whatever little guilt he has.

Soon enough, the air smells so thickly of sex. The sound of his balls slapping your ass, accompanied by your high-pitched moans and his groans are the only one filling up the space, to the point that you're sure one of the boys must've heard you.

It's so hot and filthy that Jake's glasses are all fogged up again. His grip on your waist is now leaving bruises, but you don't care because all you can think of is Jake, Jake's big cock, Jake's stupid glasses and just Jake, Jake, Jake.

"F-f-f-fuck," he exhales shakily, splitting you open with his cock. "I-I'm so—close—"

You thrash around, fisting the sheets until it tears from the force of your nails. "Jaeyun—" you gasp when he keeps abusing that spot that has you seeing stars. "Oh, fuck—Jaeyun—harder—"

Jake leans forward, straining his arms on either side of your head. His glasses slide down his slick nose slightly when he bends down to capture your lips in his thick ones. You both moan into the kiss, finally getting the taste of each other, tongues already clashing for more.

Jake licks into your mouth, hips never faltering, and sucks on your bottom lip. You whimper, the sensation becoming too much until you're just breathing against his lips, all heat and teeth and saliva. Jake groans.

"I-I'm gonna—cum—" he gasps against your mouth, face scrunching in pleasure when you clench around him. "O-Oh my fucking God, Y/N, fuck—please let me cum inside."

His hands find your waist again, thrusting harder than before. His head drops to your shoulder as he begs, again and again.

"P-Please let me cum inside, please," he whimpers, voice needy and whiny. "Please—I'm gonna—I wanna—"

"Just cum," you moan when his teeth scrape against your skin. "Jae—Jaeyunnie—"

Jake groans. With last few, deliberate thrusts, he finally cums—a full-body orgasm that has him shuddering, his cock spurting out rope after thick rope of his release, painting your walls white.

You follow him just a second after, vision blurring for a moment as your second orgasm rips through your body. Your mouth falls open on a silent scream, eyes rolling back from how delicious your climax is.

Jake takes a long moment breathing into your ear, grinding his hips slowly before he's finally pulling out. He hisses as he drags out his cock, careful not to overstimulate you, and watches in awe as white fluid flowing out of your pulsing cunt.

"Oh my fucking God."

You breathe out a laugh, sounding breathless and disbelieving. Seeing Jake sitting still by your legs, you open your arms toward him.

"C'mere, Jaeyunnie. Let's cuddle for a moment before washing up—I'm too sore to walk."

Jake perks up at that. Gone is the hungry, lust-driven boy a few moments ago, now replaced with the shy, kicked puppy holding his tail between his legs.

"Cuddle?" he echoes, unsure. "Are you not mad at me?"

"I could never be mad at you for too long," you reply, giving him a reassuring smile.

It gives Jake a flicker of hope. He scoots closer, still cautious and observing, like approaching a scared animal.

"But I avoided you…"

You drop your arms and pretend to think, making a show of tapping your chin with a finger.

"You're right. You were mean for that. Why don't you carry me to the bathroom and clean me up so we can cuddle afterwards?"

Hearing that, Jake finally relaxes, his tight muscles loosening. With an eager smile, he scoops an arm under your knees and your back, and then lifts you up easily as if you weigh nothing.

"Your wish is my command, my princess."

The next morning, you receive knowing looks from the boys. There are lingering stares on your neck from where Jake was mauling your skin last night, but you have no problem showing them off.

Jake, on the other hand, is on the edge of another breakdown.

"So, Jake," Jay starts, already planning a mischievous teasing inside his head. "How did it feel like to get railed—"

"I did not get railed!" he squeaks, ears blushing red. "I-I was the one who railed her! Right, Y/N?"

There's a laugh bubbling inside your chest as you watch Jake squirm under the relentless teasing of his friends. It felt good to be the one in charge, but after that display of strength and the way he manhandled you last night?

You don't mind having him on top of you.

But the both of you know who's truly in charge.

And if you choose to sit in his lap again, this time grinding and shifting on purpose that he gets hard until the car reaches Seoul, nobody has to know that.

Well, maybe Riki knows. But who cares.

wow okay

permanent taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll @in-somnias-world @rikismists @loviseamms @ikeupop @k3nza @heezeunx @ot7archives @petulapetula

dividers from: @/diviniyae

[romanczukowsky]

Temporary — (Part 2)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: Breakups with Fred Weasley had always been temporary.

Fred Weasley was completely certain you’d come back to him. Until you didn’t.

Now suddenly you’re spending your time with Cedric Diggory, avoiding Fred like he’s the problem for once — which, annoyingly enough, he might actually be. What starts as jealousy and wounded ego slowly turns into something much worse: realization.

And for the first time in his life, Fred stops trying to win you back with flirting, charm, and reckless kisses… and starts trying to deserve you instead.

Warnings: Romance / Emotional Angst / Jealousy / Emotional Slow Burn / Mild suggestiveness

The worst part was that you stopped reacting.

That was what truly started ruining Fred Weasley’s week.

Not Cedric Diggory. Not the breakup. Not even the fact half of Gryffindor Tower had apparently become emotionally invested in your new love life.

It was you.

Because usually when Fred provoked you, something happened.

You rolled your eyes. Snapped back. Started an argument. Kissed him to shut him up.

Something.

But now?

Nothing.

And it was beginning to drive him completely insane.

“You’re staring again,” George informed him lazily over breakfast.

Fred tore his eyes away from the Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff side of the Great Hall immediately.

“I’m not.”

“You look like you want Diggory dead.”

Fred took a sip of pumpkin juice calmly.

Across the Hall, Cedric leaned closer to say something to you.

You laughed softly.

Fred’s jaw tightened before he could stop it.

George noticed instantly.

“Oh, wow,” he breathed. “You’re down horrendous.”

Fred scoffed loudly. “Please.”

“You’re one rejected hug away from becoming a supervillain.”

Lee snorted violently into his drink.

Fred ignored both of them completely. Because honestly? This had stopped being funny days ago.

At first he’d thought you were trying to prove a point. Then he assumed you were dragging things out for dramatic effect.

Now Fred genuinely couldn’t tell what was happening anymore.

Which he hated.

Fred liked knowing things.

Especially when it came to you.

And the fact he suddenly couldn’t read you properly anymore made something ugly twist in his stomach.

Still—

he refused to panic.

That afternoon, Fred found you in the common room sitting beside Angelina with a parchment spread across your lap. Without hesitation, he dropped directly onto the sofa beside you despite the several completely empty chairs nearby.

His thigh pressed against yours immediately.

You didn’t move away.

Fred relaxed slightly.

“There you are,” he said casually.

You continued writing. “Hello, Fred.”

Too calm.

Fred hated that tone now.

Angelina looked between both of you once before immediately standing. “Nope,” she announced. “I’m leaving before this becomes emotionally embarrassing.”

Fred smirked faintly. “Smart girl.”

The second Angelina disappeared upstairs, Fred leaned sideways slightly, trying to peek at your parchment.

“What’re you writing?”

“Homework.”

“That looks disgusting.”

“It’s Ancient Runes.”

“Exactly.”

You almost smiled.

Fred caught it instantly and immediately grinned wider. He nudged your leg lightly with his own.

“You know,” he murmured, “you’re being very dramatic lately.”

You didn’t even look up. “You broke up with me.”

“Yes, but historically that’s never stopped you before.”

That finally made you glance at him.

Fred smiled immediately.

And Merlin, he missed your attention.

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered.

“And yet deeply attractive.”

Your eyes rolled automatically.

Fred brightened slightly at that.

Finally. A reaction.

So naturally he pushed farther.

“You ignored me all morning,” he complained lightly. “Honestly, darling, it’s getting hurtful.”

“I was in class.”

“With Diggory.” Fred said his name like it physically offended him.

You calmly dipped your quill back into ink. “Yes.”

Fred watched you for a second too long.

Then casually—

far too casually—

he reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Your hand froze slightly against the parchment.

Fred noticed immediately.

His expression softened into something quieter. More dangerous.

“You know,” he murmured, leaning closer now, “I liked you better when you were obsessed with me.”

Your heartbeat betrayed you instantly.

Fred saw it. Of course he did.

And that stupid confident grin returned immediately.

But then, quietly, without looking at him you said “I think that’s the problem, Fred.”

And somehow that hit harder than yelling ever could.

Fred stared at you for a second longer than necessary.

Still smiling.

But weaker now.

Because he didn’t entirely understand why that sentence bothered him so much.

You dipped your quill back into ink again like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t just quietly dismantled something inside his chest.

“Oh, come on,” he scoffed lightly, leaning back against the sofa.

You continued writing.

Fred watched your face carefully now.

Waiting.

Normally by this point you’d be arguing with him. Or glaring. Or kissing him.

Anything.

Instead you just looked… tired. And he hated that expression on you.

He nudged your foot lightly beneath the table.

“No more silent treatment,” he decided casually. “I’m bored now.”

That finally earned you a small laugh.

Tiny. Brief.

But real.

Fred’s entire face brightened automatically.

“There she is,” he repeated immediately, grinning now.

You shook your head softly to yourself and stood before he could keep going.

Fred blinked once. “Where are you going?”

“Library.”

“With who?”

You looked at him flatly.

Fred paused.

“…Right. Stupid question.”

You slid your parchment against your chest before stepping around the sofa.

Fred’s hand caught your wrist gently before you could leave. Not enough to stop you. Just enough to keep you there for one extra second.

His thumb brushed once against your skin.

“You know he’s boring, right?” Fred asked lightly.

You looked down at his hand on your wrist.

Then back at him.

“He’s kind.”

The answer came so simply. So honestly. And for some reason that irritated Fred far more than it should have.

Because kindness was difficult to compete with when your entire personality was built around chaos.

Fred covered the feeling instantly with a crooked smile.

“I can be kind.”

You raised an eyebrow slowly.

Fred pointed vaguely. “Sometimes.”

That almost made you smile again.

Almost.

But then you gently pulled your wrist free from his hand and walked away.

Fred watched you disappear through the portrait hole before leaning back heavily into the sofa cushions.

George appeared beside him seconds later holding two butterbeers.

“You look ill.”

“I’m fine.”

Fred stared toward the portrait hole.

Still gone.

Still not coming back.

And somehow that tiny fact was beginning to feel worse every single day.

“She called him kind,” Fred muttered eventually.

George blinked once. “…That’s what upset you?”

Fred looked personally offended. “Yes.”

“Not the dating?”

“That’s obviously horrific,” Fred snapped. “But kind?” He frowned deeply now. “What am I supposed to do with kind?”

George looked at him for a long moment.

Then:

“Have you tried not emotionally exhausting her for five minutes?”

Fred stared at him.

“That felt targeted.”

“It was targeted.”

Fred groaned loudly and dropped his head backward against the sofa.

Because annoyingly enough—

George might actually have a point.

And that was beginning to become a very serious problem.

Fred found you again two days later. Not on purpose. At least that was what he told himself.

In reality, he’d started noticing where you sat now. What routes you took between classes. Which corners of the castle you liked when you wanted quiet.

Which was slightly concerning behavior, according to George.

Fred personally considered it romantic dedication.

“You’re staring again,” George muttered as they crossed the courtyard.

“I’m observing.”

“You look one inconvenience away from challenging Diggory to a duel.”

Fred scoffed. “I could take him.”

“That’s not the worrying part.”

Across the courtyard, you sat beneath one of the stone archways with a book open in your lap while Cedric leaned beside you talking quietly.

Nothing dramatic.

No flirting. No kissing.

And somehow that was worse because you looked comfortable.

Fred watched as Cedric adjusted the scarf around your shoulders after the wind picked up.

Small gesture. Easy. Natural.

And suddenly Fred remembered every time you’d stolen his jumpers because he never noticed when you were cold. The realization sat unpleasantly in his stomach.

Because he knew you better than anyone.

He knew how you looked half asleep, how you laughed when you truly forgot yourself, exactly where to kiss you to make you stop arguing.

But somewhere along the way— he’d started assuming that was enough.

Fred looked away abruptly.

“You alright?”

Fred was quiet for a second too long. Which alone was alarming.

Then eventually “…I think I made her tired.”

George blinked once.

Well. That was new.

Fred shoved both hands into his pockets now, jaw tightening faintly. “Every time we fought,” he muttered, “I just assumed we’d fix it eventually.”

“You always did.”

“Yeah.” Fred laughed once softly, humorless this time. “Think that might’ve been the problem.”

George stared at his twin carefully now.

Because this? This was different. Not jealous. Not cocky. Not Fred laughing off another breakup.

This sounded dangerously close to guilt. And Fred Weasley almost never let himself feel guilty.

“She looked happier this week,” Fred admitted quietly.

George stayed silent because he knew Fred well enough to understand what that confession actually meant.

Not, I miss her.

Worse.

Maybe she’s happier without me.

Fred exhaled sharply through his nose and dragged a hand through his hair.

Then immediately tried recovering with a grin. “Still hate Diggory though.”

George barked out a laugh.

Fred smirked faintly, but it didn’t fully reach his eyes this time.

Because unfortunately—

for the first time since this entire disaster started—

Fred wasn’t thinking about winning.

He was thinking about fixing it. So Fred Weasley decided three things immediately after that conversation:

One: he hated Cedric Diggory.

Two: George was becoming unbearably wise lately.

And three—

he was absolutely not losing you to a bloke whose greatest personality trait was emotional stability.

Which meant: new strategy.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Fred’s version of emotional growth still looked slightly deranged.

“You’re plotting,” George said suspiciously the next morning.

Fred looked up from where he was aggressively scribbling something onto parchment.

“I’m apologizing.”

George blinked once. “…Why are you holding a dungbomb?”

Fred slowly lowered the dungbomb into his lap. “That’s unrelated.”

Lee leaned over the back of the sofa immediately. “No, no— let him continue. I want to hear this.”

Fred ignored both of them because he was too busy staring down at the parchment in front of him.

It had started as an apology letter.

Started.

Now it mostly looked like evidence from a psychological evaluation.

Lines crossed out violently. Ink blots everywhere. One accidental burn mark.

George picked it up carefully. “Oh, this is horrible.”

Fred snatched it back instantly. “I’m trying to be emotionally vulnerable.”

“You compared yourself to a kneazle in heat.”

“It made sense in context.”

“It absolutely did not.”

Fred groaned and dropped backward dramatically across the sofa cushions.

Because this was impossible.

Flirting with you? Easy.

Making you laugh? Easier.

Sneaking you into his bed at two in the morning? Practically a talent.

But apologizing properly?

No wonder people avoided emotional conversations.

Fred rubbed both hands down his face before sitting upright again.

“Okay,” he announced firmly. “New plan.”

George looked frightened already. “That sentence never ends well.”

“I’m going to prove I can be kind.”

Lee immediately burst out laughing.

Fred looked offended. “I can.”

“Name one time.”

Fred opened his mouth.

Paused.

“…irrelevant.”

George stared at him for a long moment before sighing.

“You know,” he said carefully, “if you actually want her back, maybe stop trying to win every conversation.”

Fred frowned. “I’m not trying to win.”

All three boys looked at him.

Fred frowned deeper. “…Am I?”

“Yes,” George, Lee and Kenneth answered simultaneously.

That shut him up for exactly three seconds.

“Well,” Fred muttered eventually, “that’s deeply upsetting information.”

George snorted softly.

Then his expression softened slightly.

“Fred.”

“What?”

“If you go near her again just to flirt and confuse her, I’m throwing you out a window.”

Fred looked personally attacked. “I’m capable of sincerity.”

“You wink during arguments.”

“That’s because I’m charming.”

“That’s because you’re emotionally damaged.”

Lee made a choking noise somewhere in the background.

Fred ignored him.

Mostly because George’s words had landed far more accurately than he wanted them to.

Because the horrible part was—

you hadn’t looked angry lately.

You’d looked done.

And suddenly Fred realized those were two very different things.

That thought followed him all day.

Through classes. Through lunch. Through Quidditch practice.

Until eventually that evening—

he found himself outside the library.

Again.

Not because he expected to see you.

Just because lately every thought in his brain somehow ended there anyway.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets as he wandered down the corridor—

then stopped immediately.

Because there you were.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor between library shelves with books scattered around you while Cedric sat beside you saying something quietly enough that Fred couldn’t hear.

You laughed softly.

Cedric smiled at you like seeing you happy was enough.

And annoyingly—

really annoyingly—

Fred could suddenly understand why people liked him.

The realization was so unpleasant Fred almost left.

Almost.

Then you glanced up.

And spotted him standing there.

Your smile faded slightly.

Not cruelly. Not awkwardly.

Just carefully.

Like you didn’t know what version of Fred Weasley was about to walk toward you this time.

And for the first time in his life—

Fred hated being that predictable.

For a second, nobody moved.

Cedric noticed him first because apparently Cedric Diggory was observant now too, which felt deeply unnecessary.

He looked between you and Fred once before closing the book in his lap.

“I should probably return these before Madam Pince starts threatening students again,” he said lightly.

Fred waited for the usual possessive tension. The awkwardness. The challenge.

Instead Cedric simply stood, rested a hand briefly against the top of your head in the softest, most casual gesture imaginable and left.

Fred hated how much that bothered him.

Because it wasn’t showing off.

It wasn’t territorial.

It was comfortable.

Like Cedric didn’t feel threatened by him at all. That alone nearly caused Fred spiritual damage.

The silence stretched slightly after he disappeared around the shelf.

“You’re staring again,” you said quietly.

Fred blinked once before automatically replying, “You’re still pretty.”

The corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself. That tiny almost-smile still felt like winning the lottery.

Fred relaxed a little at the sight of it, leaning one shoulder against the bookshelf beside you.

“Well,” he sighed dramatically, “this is already going better than our last conversation.”

You closed the book in your lap carefully. “What do you want, Fred?”

Normally he would’ve answered instantly.

Something flirtatious. Annoying. Easy.

Instead he surprised both of you by saying the truth.

“You.”

The word landed softly between you.

No grin. No joke after it.

Just honest.

Your expression shifted slightly at that.

Fred noticed immediately and continued before he lost the nerve.

“Okay, look,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck once, “George says I emotionally exhaust you.”

You stared at him.

“…George said that?”

“Word for word, actually. Very hurtful experience.”

A tiny laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

Fred’s entire face brightened automatically.

“There she is.”

You shook your head softly. “You can’t flirt your way out of every serious conversation.”

“I know.”

That answer came too fast.

Too sincere.

And suddenly you looked at him properly for the first time in days.

Fred swallowed once.

“I know I’m annoying,” Fred admitted finally.

You raised an eyebrow slowly. “That’s a strong opening.”

Fred huffed a laugh.

“But I think…” He paused briefly, searching for words he clearly hated having to say out loud. “I think somewhere along the way I stopped noticing when things were actually hurting you.”

The silence after that felt enormous.

Fred kept going anyway.

Which honestly might’ve been the bravest thing he’d ever done.

“I kept thinking we were us, so everything would work itself out eventually.” He glanced down briefly before looking back at you again. “And maybe I got too comfortable with the idea that you’d always stay.”

Your chest tightened painfully at that.

Because finally— finally—

he understood.

Fred saw something shift in your expression and immediately stepped closer instinctively.

Not cocky this time. Not teasing.

Careful.

“I’m not good at this,” he admitted quietly. “At serious talks. At… whatever this is.” A weak grin flickered briefly. “Usually I just kiss you until you stop being angry.”

“That’s part of the problem.”

“I know.”

Again too quick. Too honest.

And somehow that affected you more than any flirting ever had.

Fred looked at you for another long second before speaking again, softer this time.

“I don’t want to keep hurting you.”

That one nearly broke you.

Because Fred never said things like that.

For a second neither of you moved.

The library suddenly felt far too quiet.

Fred stood in front of you looking strangely stripped down without all his usual dramatics protecting him.

And somehow that version of him felt far more dangerous.

Your chest tightened painfully.

Because this this was what you’d wanted.

Not the flirting. Not the games. Not the jealousy.

This.

Him finally understanding.

Fred watched something flicker across your face and immediately softened.

Like he knew.

Slowly, carefully he stepped closer.

You could hear your own heartbeat now.

Fred’s eyes dropped briefly to your mouth before lifting again. And that look alone nearly ruined you. Because he wanted to kiss you.

You could see it all over him.

In the tension in his jaw. The way his fingers flexed at his sides. The way he leaned toward you instinctively before stopping himself.

But he stayed where he was.

And somehow that restraint affected you more than if he’d touched you at all.

“Fred…” you whispered.

His expression nearly broke at the sound of your voice like that.

“I know,” he murmured softly.

Another step closer.

Now barely inches separated you.

You hated how badly you still wanted him.

How easy it would’ve been to fall right back into him.

Fred saw it happening too.

Saw the exact second your resolve weakened.

And for once—

instead of taking advantage of it—

his face softened with something almost painful.

“I miss you too,” he admitted quietly.

That did it.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand lifted slowly toward his face.

Fred leaned into the touch automatically.

Eyes closing for half a second.

Like he’d missed this just as badly.

Your thumb brushed lightly against his cheek.

And suddenly the space between you felt unbearable.

Fred opened his eyes again.

Looked at your mouth.

Then back at you.

You moved first.

Barely.

Just enough for him to know.

And Fred—

Fred almost kissed you.

God, he almost did.

You actually saw the moment his self-control snapped.

His hand moved toward your waist automatically. His body leaned closer. His breathing caught.

Then suddenly—

he stopped himself.

Actually stopped.

Fred shut his eyes briefly like it physically hurt.

Then slowly stepped back.

You stared at him in shock.

Fred laughed once softly under his breath, but there was no humor in it.

“See?” he murmured. “That’s usually where I make everything worse.”

Your heart stumbled painfully.

“Fred…”

“No.” He shook his head gently, forcing himself another half step backward despite the fact his eyes still looked completely wrecked by you. “Not like this.”

You looked genuinely confused now.

And somehow that made him smile faintly.

Small. Crooked. Sad.

“I don’t want to kiss you just because I finally said the right thing.”

The words hit hard.

Fred shoved one hand through his hair roughly before continuing quieter now.

“I’ve done that before.” His eyes held yours steadily. “I say something charming, kiss you against a wall, make you forget why you were angry…” A weak exhale. “And then we end up right back here again.”

The honesty in his voice nearly shattered you completely.

Because Fred Weasley never admitted things like that.

Never.

But now he looked terrified of repeating the same mistake.

And somehow that hurt worse than any breakup ever had.

Fred’s gaze softened when he saw your expression.

“I want to do this properly this time.”

Your throat tightened painfully.

“Since when do you do anything properly?”

That finally made him grin a little. “There she is.”

You laughed softly through the emotion building in your chest.

Fred looked at you like hearing that sound again might actually save his life. Then quieter: “I know I don’t deserve another chance yet.”

The word yet nearly destroyed you.

Because he still wanted one.

Still wanted you.

“But if I get one,” Fred murmured carefully, “I want it because you trust me again.”

Your eyes burned suddenly.

And Fred noticed immediately.

Which meant naturally his expression shifted into panic.

“Oh no,” he muttered softly. “Please don’t cry. I’m emotionally unequipped for that.”

A laugh escaped you despite yourself.

Fred relaxed slightly at the sound.

Then—

footsteps.

Both of you looked up automatically as Cedric reappeared at the end of the aisle carrying two books beneath one arm.

His eyes moved between you and Fred once.

Cedric’s gaze lingered briefly on Fred. Then calmly: “Am I interrupting something?”

Fred looked at you first before answering.

And whatever Cedric saw on his face then made something shift quietly in his own expression too.

Because for the first time since this entire disaster started—

Fred Weasley didn’t look like someone trying to win.

He looked like someone genuinely trying to deserve you.

[romanczukowsky]

Temporary — (Part 1)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: Breakups with Fred Weasley had always been temporary.

A slammed door. A bruised ego. A few days of silence before one of you inevitably came back.

So when you tell Fred you’ve started seeing someone else, he laughs.

Right up until he realizes you’re serious.

Warnings: Romance / Angst with Humour / Jealousy / Emotional Slow Burn / Suggestive / Mild Smut

Breakups with Fred Weasley had become so common that by fifth year, most of Gryffindor treated them like weather conditions.

Loud. Temporary. And usually resolved within twenty-four hours.

At this point, people barely reacted anymore. Because somehow despite the jealousy, the arguments, the slammed doors, the absolutely catastrophic communication skills... you and Fred always found your way back to each other.

Usually through excessive flirting and poor decision making.

Which was why when the boys’ dormitory door slammed open with a bang loud enough to shake dust from the ceiling.

“Honestly?” Fred snapped, storming into the room. “I’m done. Finished. Dead. Romance has killed me.”

George didn’t look up from the Zonko’s catalogue in his lap.

“What’d you do?”

Fred looked scandalized. “Why is everyone immediately against me?”

Lee Jordan snorted from his bed. “Fred, come on.”

Fred ignored him completely, already pacing between the beds with sharp, annoyed energy.

“No, because tell me if this sounds fair to you lot,” he continued dramatically. “A girl asks me where the library is—”

George finally spoke without looking up. “First year?”

Fred frowned. “…No.”

“Second?”

“No, she was older.”

That made George pause for the first time. Slowly, he lowered the catalogue. “How old?”

Fred shrugged. “Fifth year maybe? Sixth? I don’t know.”

Silence.

“Fred,” Kenneth laughed from the corner of the room, “if she was sixth year, she’s been living here for nearly six years.”

Fred opened his mouth.

Paused.

Because annoyingly enough…

the girl had smiled quite a lot.

George saw the realization hit him and groaned softly into the catalogue.

“Oh, Y/N murdered you for this, didn’t she?”

“She overreacted,” Fred defended immediately.He dragged both hands through his hair now, properly irritated.

“I can’t do this anymore! Every conversation turns into ‘Why were you smiling like that?’, ‘Why’d you walk her there?’, ‘Why does every girl in this school look at you like that?’”

George raised an eyebrow. “To be fair, you do flirt with people accidentally.”

“I do NOT flirt with anyone.” Fred dropped dramatically onto his bed. “And THEN,” he continued loudly, “she starts going on about how I don’t take the relationship seriously—”

“You broke up with her, didn’t you?” George interrupted calmly.

Fred paused.

“…Maybe.”

Lee made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

“For God’s sake.”

Fred sat upright instantly. “No, because listen—what was I supposed to do? She keeps acting like I’m seconds away from running off with every girl who talks to me.”

George looked unimpressed.

“You did walk a random girl to the library.”

“She asked.”

“She was flirting.”

“I was being NICE.”

“You’re always being nice,” Lee informed him. “That’s the problem.”

Fred stared at all of them in disbelief.

“This room is unbelievable.”

George snorted quietly and picked the catalogue back up again.

“So,” he said casually, “how long before you go crawling back downstairs?”

Fred looked offended. “I do not crawl.”

“Right. You lean against walls and flirt until she forgives you.”

Fred considered this. “…That’s completely different.”

Lee laughed again.

Fred smirked faintly now, irritation already fading from his face.

Because honestly?

This was how things worked.

You fought. He said something dramatic. You ignored each other for a bit. Then eventually one of you cracked.

Usually him.

And judging by the way George was already turning another page like none of this mattered. Everyone else knew it too.

Fred grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved it behind his head comfortably.

“She’ll get over it by tomorrow.”

Across the castle, the girls’ dormitory door flew open with equal force.

“I hate him.”

Angelina didn’t even blink.

You stared at her in disbelief. “Did you hear me?”

“What did he do?” Angelina asked, not even looking up from her nails.

You threw your bag onto your mattress hard enough to make the curtains shake. “He thinks I’m overreacting.”

Angelina hummed. “Mhm.”

Your jaw dropped. “This is serious!”

“That’s what you said last time,” Alicia pointed out.

“And the time before that,” Katie added.

“That is NOT the point!” You groaned loudly and dropped onto your bed. “And then,” you muttered into your pillow, “he says maybe we should stop doing this altogether if I’m going to keep acting mental every time he talks to another girl.”

That finally got a reaction.

Mostly because all three girls exchanged the exact same look.

Not shocked.

Just Ah. Another breakup.

Angelina went back to painting her nails. “So,” she asked casually, “how long are we giving this one?”

Katie answered immediately. “Tomorrow.”

“Saturday at worst,” Alicia agreed.

The girls laughed softly.

Normally, you would’ve laughed too.

Because usually they were right.

Usually Fred would appear beside you with that stupid grin, flirt until you forgot why you were angry, kiss you against a wall somewhere and suddenly everything would be fine again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

But this time instead of comforting you the whole thing just made you tired.

You sat up slowly.

“No,” you said quietly.

You looked down at your hands for a second before continuing“No, because this isn’t normal anymore.”

The room went quiet.

You laughed once softly, but there wasn’t much humor in it.

“We break up every other week and everyone just…” You gestured vaguely around the room. “Waits for us to get back together again.”

And suddenly the words spilled out before you could stop them.

“He doesn’t even care when he says it anymore.”

Nobody interrupted you.

Because deep down they all knew exactly what you meant.

Fred always came back. Fred always flirted. Fred always kissed you like he couldn’t survive without you.

But somehow he’d also become completely certain you’d never really leave.

Like no matter what he said in the heat of an argument, you’d still be there afterward.

Still his.

Still waiting.

The thought made something twist painfully in your chest.

You swallowed hard before looking up again.

“Well,” you said finally, quieter this time, “this time he’s going to regret it.”

You grabbed your pajamas and stood.

“This time,” you repeated, “Fred Weasley’s actually going to understand what breaking up means.”

And for the first time all evening none of the girls laughed.

The next morning, you avoided Fred Weasley with military precision.

At first, Fred found it funny.

By Thursday, even George had stopped asking questions.

By Friday, Lee started a betting pool. “Ten sickles says they’re back together by Sunday.”

“Too optimistic,” Angelina muttered from nearby.

Fred smirked from the sofa. “She misses me already, I guarantee it.”

And maybe part of him even believed that.

Because despite everything you and Fred always came back to each other.

Always.

Which was why the second week felt…strange. Because now people had started noticing.

Noticing you never sat together anymore, Fred stopped automatically saving the seat beside him, you no longer looked at each other across the room.

Even the common room felt different somehow.

Quieter.

People started exchanging looks. Like maybe this breakup had lasted slightly too long to still be funny.

Fred noticed it too.

Of course he did.

But every time George asked if he was finally going to talk to you properly, Fred shrugged casually.

“She just needs time.”

Fred knew you.

So when he spotted you alone outside the library late that afternoon and immediately changed direction. You were sitting on the wide stone windowsill with a book in your lap, completely focused.

Fred grinned faintly to himself.

He missed you.

Which was exactly why he walked straight over and dropped beside you like he belonged there.

Because in his mind? He still did.

Fred leaned sideways slightly, trying to read the page.

“Merlin,” he groaned, “this looks painfully boring.”

A tiny smile flickered at the corner of your mouth before disappearing again.

Fred saw it instantly.

And relaxed.

He smiled faintly to himself and nudged your knee gently with his.

Now that you were finally sitting beside him again, everything felt stupidly fixable.

So naturally Fred leaned in to kiss you.

Only this time you pulled away before his lips could touch yours.

Fred froze for half a second. Then he laughed softly under his breath, recovering instantly.

“Alright,” he smirked faintly. “Still angry. Got it.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Terrifying, then.”

You closed your book slowly.

And something about that movement made Fred’s smile weaken just slightly.

Because you still looked calm.

No yelling. No jealousy. No dramatics.

That was new.

“Sweetheart,” Fred said lightly, “we’ve had worse fights than this.”

And quietly you answered. “That’s exactly the problem.”

Fred frowned faintly.

Before he could respond, you looked down at the book in your lap and shut it fully.

“I’m seeing someone.”

Fred blinked once, then laughed immediately.

Actually laughed.

“Oh, that’s brilliant.”

“I’m serious.”

Fred leaned back against the stone wall beside you with a crooked grin. “Love, if you wanted attention, you could’ve just said so.”

You just looked at him completely serious.

And Fred still relaxed, still certain, shook his head with quiet amusement. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I mean it, Fred.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

Fred snorted softly. “Come on Y/N. You’re telling me you suddenly found another boyfriend?”

“I didn’t say boyfriend.”

“Even worse,” Fred grinned. “Now I know you’re lying.”

You stood before he could say anything else, sliding your book against your chest.

Fred looked up at you, still completely unconcerned.

“You’ll talk to me eventually,” he informed you casually.

You held his gaze for a second.

Then:

“Maybe.”

And walked away.

Fred watched you disappear down the corridor before shaking his head softly to himself.

—

“She’s bluffing.”

“She sounded convincing?” Lee asked.

Fred sprawled further across the common room sofa, completely relaxed.

“She’s clearly trying to make me jealous,” he explained. “Which honestly? Fair enough.”

George hummed thoughtfully. “So how long until she forgives you?”

Fred shrugged lazily. “At this point? No idea. She’s dragging this out weirdly long.”

“Maybe she’s actually angry this time.”

“She’s always angry.”

Lee laughed into his drink.

Fred leaned back with a sigh. “And apparently now she’s invented some mystery bloke she’s seeing.”

Right then Angelina, walking past the sofa with Katie, stopped abruptly.

“You know,” she said casually, “it’s not invented.”

Fred barely looked up. “Mhm.”

Still relaxed.

Angelina folded her arms. “Y/N is actually seeing someone.”

Fred barked out a laugh. “Oh, please.”

“She is,” Katie added carefully.

Fred stared at both of them.

Then scoffed.

“No, she isn’t.”

“She spent all of yesterday in Hogsmeade with him,” Angelina replied.

Something flickered briefly across Fred’s face then.

Tiny.

Almost invisible.

“…Who?”

Katie and Angelina exchanged a quick glance.

Then Angelina answered:

“Cedric Diggory.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Fred snorted softly and leaned back into the sofa again, grin returning immediately.

“Oh, now I know she’s messing with me.”

“Fred—” George started.

“No, think about it,” Fred interrupted, laughing now. “Diggory? Really?”

“She’s serious,” Angelina informed him.

Fred waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

And the dangerous little smile that spread slowly across his face after that looked far too much like a challenge.

The next morning, Fred saw you before you saw him. And immediately wished he hadn’t.

You were crossing the courtyard beside Cedric Diggory, sunlight catching against your face while you laughed at something he’d said.

Cedric carried half your books under one arm effortlessly.

Fred slowed automatically.

The faint grin on his face twitched slightly, not disappearing completely, just… tightening.

George, walking beside him, noticed instantly.

Fred scoffed softly. “She’s dedicated, I’ll give her that.”

But his eyes stayed on you.

On the way you leaned closer to Cedric when he spoke.

On the way Cedric looked at you like he already knew things about you.

Fred hated that immediately.

Still he smiled lazily to himself. “Cute. Very cute.”

—

Later that evening, Fred finally found you alone.

About bloody time.

Because watching Cedric Diggory carry your books around all day like some tragic romantic hero was beginning to genuinely irritate him.

You had just turned the corner of an empty corridor when a familiar hand caught your waist from behind.

Warm. Certain.

“Found you,” he murmured against your ear.

Your breath caught instantly.

Fred smiled against your skin the second he felt it.

Before you could properly react, he gently pulled you backward against his chest, hands settling low on your hips like they belonged there.

“You shouldn’t do that anymore Fred.”

“Do what, love?”

“This.”

Fred’s fingers flexed lightly against your waist.

His voice turned teasing. “Touch my own girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend.”

“Temporary title.”

You tried stepping away.

Fred only moved closer.

Not forcefully. Never forcefully.

Just naturally.

His chin brushed near your temple as he spoke again.

“You know,” he murmured thoughtfully, “Diggory carrying your books around all day was a bit much.”

You turned in his hold until you were facing him.

Fred still didn’t let go.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“No,” he corrected softly, eyes dragging slowly across your face, “I’m annoyed.”

You swallowed once.

Fred noticed immediately.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning closer now, “can we stop this now?”

Your heartbeat was already betraying you. You hated that.

Hated how easy it still was for him.

Fred saw the hesitation flicker across your expression and stepped even closer.

Now there was barely space left between you.

“You know what I miss?” he asked quietly.

You should’ve walked away.

Instead “What?”

Fred’s eyes darkened slightly.

“This.”

One hand slid slowly higher along your waist before settling again.

“Having you this close.”

Your breath caught again.

Fred smiled faintly.

“And Merlin,” he whispered, “I miss your body.”

Heat rushed through you immediately.

Fred’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before lifting again.

“Miss you sneaking into my room at stupid hours because apparently you ‘couldn’t sleep.’” His fingers traced lazily along your side. “Miss your legs tangled with mine at three in the morning.” Another inch closer. “Miss the way you look in my bed.”

“Fred—”

“No, come on,” he murmured softly. “You can’t honestly tell me you haven’t thought about it too.”

His mouth brushed near your ear again when he spoke next.

“Because I have.”

Your pulse stumbled badly now.

Fred noticed every second of it.

And grew more confident with each reaction.

“You know what I kept thinking all day?” he whispered.

You hated yourself for asking “What?”

Fred smiled slowly. “You,” he murmured, “me, my room…”

His fingers tightened slightly against your waist.

“…door locked.”

Fred leaned his forehead lightly against yours now, completely certain he was winning.

For one horrible second you almost broke, and Fred saw it. That familiar victorious look started creeping slowly across his face.

Until quietly you said: “I’m still seeing someone.”

Fred exhaled a soft laugh against your mouth. “Right. Diggory.”

“I mean it.”

“Sweetheart,” he murmured patiently, “you don’t have to keep doing this.”

You looked directly at him then.

Completely serious.

And slowly—

very slowly—

Fred’s smile weakened.

You stepped back this time.

And Fred let you.

“I’m not pretending, Fred.”

That landed somewhere far deeper than it should have.

But before he could answer—

you walked away again.

Leaving Fred standing alone in the corridor, staring after you for several long seconds.

And for the first time since this entire thing started—

Fred Weasley stopped looking certain.

[enchive]

HOW TO PRETEND

⏱︎  sunghoon wakes up in a world where you're alive.

⏱︎  park sunghoon x f!reader, ft. 02z ⏱︎  fluff, angst, fantasy [alternative universe, time travel themes], college!au, slowburn(?) ⏱︎  wc: 19.2k ⏱︎  cw: major character death, grief, mourning, emotional breakdown... sunghoon just goes through it i'm sorry T_T

⏱︎  enchive's lttr: i worked on this a lot during my finals week and then proceeded to get cooked. enchive is taking summer courses so this came out very slowly i apologize. it took a lot of brain juices but i powered thru, so hopefully there aren't any inconsistencies bcus my brain was so scattered writing this. special shout to @02zc0re, @cherryw0n whose anticipation greatly motivated me. thank u kindly! +++ shoutout to my roomie for beta reading i love u <3 here is a small playlist I listened to while writing~

how to pretend by lucy bedroque i saw you in a dream by the japanese house time machine by willow

Park Sunghoon hasn’t been himself ever since you died in winter.

Not that there’s much left of him to be.

Most of him perished when you did, and the other part that remained became a lifeless body trying to pass the time day by day. The color disappeared from his life once you did, and now all that’s left of him are bleak, monochromatic snapshots of his grief weaving into his everyday routine. Time became indistinguishable without you. Two years of his life were structured around your dates, your classes, and spending time with you. But now, his life became a repetitive cycle of waking up, going to class, and going home, where he rotted with your visage behind his closed eyes as he lied in bed until the next day broke.

Winter left, and Spring came, yet Sunghoon still felt like he was stuck in the cold season. 

In your shared apartment, your things were still there as if you never left. Your puffer jacket was still hanging on the coat rack, unwashed and chilly to the touch. Your toothbrush was still right next to his in the bathroom, the bristles bone-dry from the lack of use. There was an empty space on the full-sized bed, a perfect fit for where your body was supposed to lay right next to him. If Sunghoon closed his eyes and breathed in hard enough, he could still smell the remnants of your lingering, sweet shampoo clinging to the fibers of your pillowcase. 

His friends tried hard to help him move out of his cycle of grief. Sunghoon loved them for it, but he couldn’t help but remain where it was safe, in the little domain where your presence was missing, but your life was still there. Where your pictures hung on the walls, your bright smile lighting up the darkness of each room. Where your lucky pendant mocked him as it hung off the backpack you left on the stool of the kitchen island. Where you still were alive, even if you weren’t physically there.

Jake came in first after you died, letting Sunghoon have his peace for two weeks. Jake was the type to worry so much that it was overwhelming. For the past two weeks, he had blown up Sunghoon’s phone everyday, not letting him have a moment to himself on the device. (Sunghoon was grateful, honestly. Because he had spent the past two weeks looping every video of you until he could memorize the timestamps of every action you took.)

Jake checked on Sunghoon by knocking on his door and bringing him food. “Sunghoon, I brought pyeonyuk from your favorite place…” He gently breached the silence with a careful lilt to his voice, afraid that Sunghoon would snap if Jake said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Sunghoon begrudgingly got out of bed, clutching his phone tightly in his hand, and met Jake in the living room, his hair flying on his head and body dragging across the floorboards.

“I’m not hungry…” Sunghoon muttered in response, the same answer as the day before and the day before that.

“You should eat something, Hoon…” Jake frowned, setting the food on the dining table anyway and opening the takeout bag. Sunghoon didn’t respond. He knew Jake was right, but didn’t have the energy to say anything back. “She wouldn’t want you like this–”

“Don’t talk about her like you know what she wants,” Sunghoon snapped, his voice coming out sharper than he intended. The words stayed in the air, with regret settling into Sunghoon’s guilt-adled mind. But Sunghoon didn’t take them back, he couldn’t.

Jake was your friend before Sunghoon even knew you, so he knew that Jake was still mourning. Sunghoon knew it was wrong for him to say that, but he couldn’t help himself. Jake didn’t know you like he did. He didn’t know the soft murmurs of your sleep and the look of affection in your eyes.

Sometimes, he was angry at Jake for being able to smile after you passed. Other times, he was envious that he could move on so easily and continue living as if you were never there. But in the privacy of your apartment, Jake’s sniffles would merge with Sunghoon’s as they recounted the sides of you only they knew.

Jay came in after to help organize your apartment, more persistent than Jake. “You can’t keep staying like this, Hoon. You’re gonna get bugs, or something…” He murmured, bending over to pick up stray debris on the wooden floors. When your death was still fresh, and your messes were still around, Sunghoon loathed Jay’s help. How dare Jay come in and taint the memories of your existence by cleaning up what you had left behind?

“Jay, stop…” Sunghoon murmured as he helplessly watched his friend reach for the zip-up jacket that you had left on the couch, the cotton material still holding onto your perfume.

“It’s just a jacket, Hoon. It’s gonna smell if you leave it here–”

“I said stop! Just– just fuckin’ leave it where it is, Jay!” Sunghoon’s voice cracked as the volume rose. He stood up without realizing, in Jay’s space, and gripping onto your jacket like it was a lifeline. Jay startled, the jacket slipping from his hands and into Sunghoon’s protective grasp.

“Why does it matter?” Jay had shot back, frustration finally slipping through. “She’s not coming back to wear it, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon’s heart steeled, and he could only whisper back to Jay as tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Get out.”

Sunghoon was still embarrassed about the amount of screaming and sobbing he did to Jay, but he’s sure that they’re fine now. Apologies flew between them, but Sunghoon had already let go of the anger in his chest. After all, it was only swallowed up by the grief he was feeling for you.

When both of his friends noticed it wasn’t helping, they would take him out on the town, shoving milkshakes in his hand and laughing louder than they usually would. They talked about everything and nothing all at once, carefully avoiding your name as if he would break upon hearing it in public. After a while, Sunghoon didn’t want his friends to feel like their efforts were in vain. So he learned to force a smile, puffing up his cheeks and curling up his lips as Jake made a stupid joke to Jay like he always did. (When Jake and Jay looked triumphant about their victory, turning away to silently celebrate, Sunghoon would let his smile falter.)

The night was like the others. Jake and Jay took him to this diner far out of the way, with an American retro vibe. Red and white stripes lined the walls, and the tiles gleamed in the bright overhead lighting. There were only a few patrons in the restaurant, as it was late. The smell of meat cooking on the grill wafted through the air, permeating the atmosphere with smoke and seasoning. The three men were munching on burgers, updating each other about their courses for the next semester. But mostly, it was just Jake and Jay speaking to Sunghoon. The youngest of the three remained silent for most of the meal, only responding when he felt like he really had to.

But the sight of the cheeseburgers and fries on his platter only made him think of you even more. Even if he knew his friends were trying to distract him from you, he could only be reminded of the countless dates you had at the burger joint next to campus. Reminded of the way you used to get ketchup on the corner of your lips, and how he would wipe it off with his thumb. He used to complain about how you always ate so messily, but he couldn’t help the wide smile from growing on his lips. Can’t you come back? He’d never complain again…

“Guys, it’s getting late. I think we should go now…” Sunghoon spoke up after a while. Truth be told, he was spacing out for most of the time and just wanted to bury himself under the covers. Jake looked at him and smiled, not wanting to push anything.

“Sure, man, we can go back now.” He stood up, dusting off the crumbs from his thighs. He looked at Jay, who simply nodded and stood up to let Sunghoon out of the dining booth they were sitting in. Jay drove them back home, not forgetting to tell Sunghoon to text him in the morning. Sunghoon only nodded in response before going back up to your apartment.

When he opened the door, the silence greeted him as always. Not your cheery voice yelling his name or your padding footsteps eagerly running towards him. There was only a suffocating absence waiting for him. The wooden door clicked shut behind him, and with that sound, his composed act dropped.

Sunghoon’s shoulders slumped. He tried. He really tried. But when his breath hitched, his emotions began to unravel uncontrollably, unfurling like a roll of ribbon. His keys slipped from his fingers, clattering against the floor. His vision blurred as quickly as he blinked, tears filling up his eyes, and his throat closing up as a sob threatened to rise from his chest.

“Fuck–” His word broke apart as soon as he let it out. He collapsed to the ground, his body not strong enough to carry him and the weight of his emotions anymore. He felt ugly– so ugly. His figure practically folded into itself as his knees hit the ground, his chest pressed against his thighs and his arms awkwardly crossed. He uncurled his body, crawling like a baby as he thought to the only thing he wanted.

You.

But you weren’t here. So his hands desperately sought out the closest thing he could get. Your jacket, the one that he still hadn’t moved even though Jay tried to many, many times. He bunched up the fabric in his fingers, the cloth wrinkling under the force of his tight grip. He buried his nose into the fabric, inhaling the sweet smell of your perfume– from the bottle that was still at your vanity, macerating as it went unused. A choked sound tears from his throat as he inhaled sharply, like maybe if he breathed your scent in deep enough, he could fill the hollow space you left behind.

“Please…” His voice was barely there now, worn thin from crying. “Just—just come back.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and the memories came flooding in. Your bright laugh that lifted any weight off his shoulders, your warm eyes always seeking to stare into his, and your heavy hand that slipped effortlessly to slot into his. Then, the quiet moments that you both lived, the meaningless ones, the ones he never thought he’d have to remember like this. They all hit his brain at once, bringing on a throbbing headache for him. But even though it ached to think of you, he still clung to these memories desperately, replaying them over and over on loop.

If he stopped and let them fade even a little, then it would be like losing you all over again.

Your voice wasn’t there to comfort him like it always used to be, and if he took out his phone to play a clip of your sweet voice messages that used to encourage him, he wasn’t sure how he would react. His sobs eventually silenced, faltering into desperate gasps of air. Exhaustion pulled him down as his breathing became uneven. He curled into himself on the floor, still clutching what little of you he has left as his body tumbled to the side. The last thing he felt before he passed out was the faint scent of your perfume and the hollow ache in his chest that never seemed to go away.

Winter had long passed, allowing flowers to bloom over the frigid grass. Yet, Sunghoon remained frozen in the cold weather, trapped in the season you left him in.

Sunghoon didn’t remember setting his alarm, but the shrill sound of it woke him up from his deep sleep.

He kept his eyes closed as he pouted, squirming around as he patted around for his phone. But, instead of meeting the cold floor, his hands brushed up against warm bedding. He shot upright, eyes wide and head throbbing. Who the hell moved him from the floor to the bed?

For a moment, Sunghoon sat still, disoriented and trying to piece together the puzzles of last night through his dazed head. He remembered having a breakdown and the sweet aroma of your perfume. His vision was blurry, and he thought that it was from his tears from last night, but even after blinking for a few seconds, his eyesight didn’t gain any clarity. His hands shot up to rub his eyes, but his sight was still fuzzy. He remembered passing out on the floor, holding your jacket. But he surely didn’t remember this.

He looked down, realizing he was on a twin XL bed. He squinted his eyes as he stared at the bedding. It looked way too familiar. The way that the blanket hung off the edge, and the striped pillow was resting up against the wall, compressed into a flat piece of cotton. It looked all too familiar, too similar to the navy blue set that he used during his freshman year of college.

A chill ran down Sunghoon’s spine as he realized where he was. He was in a freshman dorm.

As he glanced around, his bleary eyes still didn’t clear, but the room around him became a little more concrete. The cheap white paint peeling on the ceiling, the shaky frame of his wooden bunk bed, and the pile of unfolded laundry sitting right in the middle of the floor in a blob of mixed fabrics. The mini-fridge was humming next to his closet. It was all there, exactly the way he remembered two years ago. He would’ve mused at the fact that it looked so identical if he wasn’t so freaked out about being in some random freshman dorm.

Fuck, what did I do last night? I probably look like a creep! In the dorm of some random freshman kid when I’m a junior… He nearly sprained his ankle trying to jump off the bed, scrambling to leave as soon as possible. But as soon as he jumped down from the top bunk, the door opened, revealing Jay.

“Dude, you good? You jumped off the bed mad hard.” Jay snickered, running a hand through his wet hair. Sunghoon blinked. This had to be a dream, a prank, or a grief-induced hallucination. Maybe he cried himself so hard that he lost his fucking mind. Because there was just no way he was staring at freshman year Jay in his freshman year dorm.

Jay was supposed to have short black hair with a strictness that only college and a two-year unpaid internship could instill into him. He was supposed to be wearing button-ups and polos with tight trousers and a fancy belt. But this Jay had longer, dyed silver hair with his teenage features still ghosting his face. This Jay was wearing a soccer team jersey with baggy shorts and his silver conch piercing still looped through his ear.

“Sunghoon, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” Jay nervously laughed, throwing the towel around his neck into his hamper. “Did you have a nightmare or something?”

Sunghoon’s throat was dry. He tried to swallow, but instead he broke out into a coughing fit. Jay scrambled to pat his back, grabbing a cold water bottle from the shared mini-fridge. “Th– Thanks…” Sunghoon wheezed as he greedily gulped down the entire bottle. “Uhm, I’m– I’m okay…” He whispered, trying to find his voice. Jay frowned, concerned.

“Are you sure? You sound weird as hell, man.” Jay smiled again, his expression dry and one of concern. Sunghoon cleared his throat and nodded again, turning around to look at himself in the mirror. He was faced with the younger version of himself from two years ago, too. Instead of his ripped figure, his muscles were just beginning to bulge with the beginnings of his consistent workouts. His hair was dark as usual, but he could see the overgrown appearance framing his eyes.

“I– I think ‘m gonna be sick!” Sunghoon gagged, before running to the communal bathrooms and flinging open the closest stall door. He yakked in the toilet, sick to his stomach. The sour smell of vomit filled the claustrophobic space of the stall, and Sunghoon nearly threw up again as chunks of undigested food sputtered out from between his lips. Jay came in a minute later, standing awkwardly next to the open door.

“Are you good, man? You’re worrying me… Did the dining hall fuck you over, too?” Jay snickered. Sunghoon flushed, leaning heavily against the wall as cold sweat clung to the back of his neck. His whole body felt wrong. Jay lingered outside for a moment before speaking again, voice softer this time. “Seriously, Hoon. Did something happen?”

Sunghoon stared at the tiled floor for a moment before flushing down his puke. Everything had fucking happened. You were dead, and he had buried you. But he couldn’t say that to Jay. So instead, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and forced out a weak response.

“Bad dream.”

Jake had been talking about you for weeks before Sunghoon met you.

The puppy-like boy had been yipping his ear off about you, but Sunghoon didn’t even know what you looked like. All he knew you as Jake’s hometown friend who’s known the man since high school. Yet Jake talked about you like Sunghoon was already integrated into your friendship, like you were apart of their routine too.

“Yuck, this dining hall food sucks.” Jake scrunched his nose as his fork penetrated the dry chicken, the metal tearing into the strips of meat. Sunghoon snorted as he dug his spoon into the “soup” that had animal fats coagulating on the surface of the bowl. “Should we take the bus downtown and get sushi?” Jake licked his lips, eager for the change of meal.

“We already used a meal swipe, Jake. I don’t want to waste it.” Sunghoon frowned, but he himself was about to lose his appetite as he stared into the abyss of the tomato soup that bubbled and popped, spurting tiny droplets of thick tomato onto the table. When Jake didn’t respond, Sunghoon assumed that Jake had conceded and began eating his dry chicken, but when he looked up, Jake’s eyes were somewhere else.

Sunghoon followed his eyes to see that Jake was staring at a girl grabbing a cookie. “Ohh, you think she’s cute?” Sunghoon teased. Jake’s lips then curled up in disgust, his entire face contorting to express his repulsion to Sunghoon’s words. The younger boy frowned, disappointed. “Jake, don’t look like that. She may not be your type, but she’s a cute girl.”

“What? Dude, that’s Y/N. My friend from home.” Jake snickered. “So you think she’s cute, huh?” The chestnut-haired boy leaned across the table immediately, grin widening like he had just been handed the greatest entertainment of his week.

“No, Jake, I didn’t say all that.” Sunghoon groaned, knowing that he had just walked himself into a trap.

“Nah, don’t lie. You think she’s cute, huh? She’s single, I can set you up…” Jake smirked, wriggling his eyebrows. Sunghoon groaned, the tip of his pale ears turning red from the embarrassment he was feeling. He covered his face to hide his expression.

“Stop, Jake…” He whined. Jake snickered and pushed Sunghoon’s elbow.

“Be cool, man, she’s coming.” Jake winked, biting his lip at Sunghoon. The pale boy’s face was so red, he was sure he looked like a stop sign at that point. Behind Sunghoon, he heard the steady sounds of footsteps against linoleum. It was when the footsteps were directly behind him that he decided to turn around, not wanting to look too snappy or weird.

Sunghoon was blown away. He thought you were cute from a couple of feet away, debating whether to grab either the cookie or the brownie as you tapped your foot in a rhythmic motion. But you were even more breathtaking up close. You had a soft, warm smile gracing your lips, making you look approachable. Your cheeks were dewy from the humid air that resulted from the smokiness of the chicken charring behind the dining hall bars. You were wearing sweats and a hoodie, dressing warmly for the cool temperatures that began to settle in the atmosphere during September. He absolutely couldn’t hide how smitten he was with you, so much that Jake began lightly kicking his foot under the table.

“Hi, Jake.”

God, even your voice was like honey. Smooth, silky, and thickly sweet. “Hey, Y/N. Did you finish eating, or did you just get here?” Jake asked you, not bothering to hide the wide, mischievous grin that began to spread across his lips.

“Mmm, I ate with my classmate, Chaewon. She left to go back to her dorm already,” You answered, circling the table to stand behind Jake. Your face came into full view of Sunghoon, and he had to remember to swallow so that he could prepare his mouth to speak.

“H– Hey.” Sunghoon’s voice cracked as he greeted you. Jake pursed his lips, biting them to stifle his laughter. He cleared his throat and looked down, embarrassed.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Jake’s friend.” You giggled, melodic and charming. Sunghoon shyly smiled up at you, gathering the courage to look up at you directly. You took the seat next to Jake, maintaining your friendly grin as you stared at Sunghoon. “Aren’t you in my CS class?” You asked, tilting your head. Sunghoon gulped. He didn’t even realize, but you remembered him so easily. He felt a little guilty.

“Uhm– Uhm, yeah, ‘m– ‘m in CS 1010… Monday, Wednesday, Friday lectures from 12:15 to 1:30… You– you too?” Sunghoon stammered out his question. You giggled again, seemingly amused and endeared by his bashful demeanor.

“Yup, that’s me too! Hey, sit next to me in lecture next time! I sit in like, the middle back. And I’m going to be honest with you, the guy who usually sits next to me… he’s a bit obnoxious…” You leaned in to cheekily whisper to him, as if letting him in on a secret only you both knew about. (And Jake, he guessed…)

The conversation began flowing into a natural river of meaningless talks about dorm life, classes, and unshared stories of Jake that you both had. Honestly, Sunghoon barely remembered what you guys talked about. All that was stuck in his mind was the way you kept glancing at him with your bright, wide eyes that squinted with your cheeks as you smiled and giggled.

At the time, Sunghoon thought it was just a lucky afternoon, stumbling upon a pretty girl and even scoring a friend in a class. He didn’t know then that it would become coffee dates and late-night study sessions, shared bus rides, first kisses, and apartment keys. He didn’t know that one day, he would be whispering “I love you” to you every night before you both fell asleep after long days of cramming for Data Structures and Algorithms. He didn’t know then that you would become home.

And he definitely didn’t know that one day, years later, he would sit on the floor of that very home, begging the universe to let him have you back.

Back then, all he knew was that you smiled at him, and for the first time, he was excited to attend CS 1010.

Sunghoon had finished hyperventilating twenty minutes ago. Or maybe thirty. Time felt fake now, so he honestly couldn’t tell.

All he knew was that he had woken up in his freshman dorm, thrown up in the communal bathroom, cried for a little bit more until Jay awkwardly told him he had to leave, and then kneeled down on the (very disgusting) floor of the stall trying not to pass out or cry again. Either grief had sent him into some form of delusion or psychosis, or genuinely sent him two years in the past. Neither option was looking like an optimal answer to his question of why the hell he was in his freshman year self.

After managing to get up, he went back to his dorm to search for anything that could help his predicament. (As if his dingy gaming laptop could send him back into the present…) He entered his room to grab his morning essentials, splayed out in a cup on his white dorm cart. His vision was still blurry, and it finally clicked to him as to why when he noticed a foreign object on the same cart. He picked up a glasses case and opened them to reveal a pair of glasses. He put them on and stared at himself in the mirror secured on the front of his closet door. 

They were black, wide, and thick-rimmed, pressing up against the sides of his nose and nudging into the fluffy skin of his cheeks. But Sunghoon never wore glasses– he had perfect 20/20 vision. Sunghoon freaked out– who wouldn’t freak out after losing their after a night’s sleep?

He took his cup of essentials to the bathroom, cringing at the loadout. He had a dingy, plastic toothbrush and a cheap tube of toothpaste. He didn’t own his usual mixsoon skincare, so he couldn’t wash his face with cleanser. He brushed his teeth, rinsed his mouth with purple Listerine, and splashed his face with water.

“God, this is sick. This is actually so sick,” he muttered to himself, patting his face dry with his sleep t-shirt and putting on the glasses. Now that he could properly see his reflection in the dusty and streaky mirror, he was staring at the younger version of himself that had softer features, longer, dark-brown hair, and a pair of fucking glasses now.

He looked like a loser, and his present-day brain wanted to fight himself for not taking care of himself properly until he began talking to you. He checked the time on the old and unnecessary clock hanging over the door of the communal bathroom, whispering a curse as he realized that it was almost 8:30AM, his class was at 9AM, and the walk was 20 minutes away from the dorm. 

He ran back to his dorm room to change, throwing open his closet door with a resonating slam against the wooden sideboards. Instead of the expensive and sleek monochrome clothes he meticulously spent two years curating into his fashion style, he was greeted with vibrant colors overtaking any monotone hue that could have hidden in his hangers. He pulled each hanger back, revealing neon green, a bright yellow, and a shirt with Detective Conan on it. He groaned, internally cursing his freshman-year self for buying whatever he could get his cheap hands on. He picked out a green sweater and a clean pair of blue denim jeans. He wanted to accessorize, but when he dug through his other drawers, he couldn’t find anything. There wasn’t even a watch or necklace or bracelet. He shook his head and exhaled in frustration.

Sunghoon checked the calendar on his desk promptly, throwing on a jacket and grabbing a random apple on his desk. It was November, three months after university had started for him. But when his eyes landed on the color-coded events, he was confused. Because instead of CS 1010 and CALC III, the usual courses he took on Monday, he was looking at CHEM 1010 and BIOL 2100. He remembered taking the chemistry course his freshman year, but he definitely remembered not taking anything biology-related in his college career. Hell, he was a Computer Engineering major. What would a CS student need Biology for?

Ignoring the weird nostalgia blooming in his chest and the odd discrepancies that just continued to pile up, Sunghoon went out to go to his classes. Instead of the green trees and blossoming flowers welcoming him outside, he was met with the warm leaves and moderate temperatures of Autumn. Students passed by in a haze, chattering about their classes and walking way faster than Sunghoon remembered. The cold breeze drifted through the campus, inflating his sweater as it crept under the fabric. Jay had already left to attend a mixer for his pre-law frat, leaving Sunghoon to try to stimulate his own brain so he could ignore his weird time flashback or time-travel or whatever the hell this was…

He checked his phone, inhaling a big breath of air and holding it in, as if bracing himself for the impact that he was seeing his screen two years in the past. When the screen brightened, Sunghoon was greeted with Patrick Bateman laughing maniacally at him with blood splattered across his face. He instantly shut his phone off out of embarrassment. “Hell no.” He grunted.

He inhaled again and opened it to check his text messages. He expected to see your name at the top, but instead, it was Jake followed by Jay. He scrolled through, expecting to see your name at least somewhere. After all, it’d been three months since you’ve met. You should’ve at least talked about the CS midterm by now, right? But instead, he scrolled through to see his parents, his sister, and some random high school friends Sunghoon hadn’t thought of in years.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a headache coming on, and his heart was twisting into itself, wringing out all of his worries about his time-travel to soak up the anxieties of you. If he was here—if this was really freshman year, really November, really two years ago— then where the hell were you?

Sunghoon stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk, students brushing past him with annoyed mutters, enunciated scoffs, and eyerolls. His fingers trembled around his phone as he opened your contact again, except… there was no contact to open. Your name didn’t exist in his phone, and there was nothing to remember you by. His stomach dropped to his feet, and from his feet, crept up the nauseous nagging of… what if you didn’t exist at all now, these two years ago that he was in?

“No, no, no…” he muttered under his breath, swiping faster like your name might magically appear if he looked hard enough. But it didn’t. All that stared back at him was the image of fucking Christian Bale laughing at him, jeering at him as if making a mockery out of Sunghoon.

Could… this not have been his timeline entirely? Instead of going back to the past, did he somehow fall into a world where you never even existed?

Even the beginnings of the thought was enough to make Sunghoon keel over, steadying his body on a nearby tree and focusing his eyes into the nearby bush. Was this world not the version where you sat next to him in CS 1010 and whispered gossip to him during lectures? Because if so, then this wasn’t the version where he walked you home after late-night study sessions and fell in love with you under fluorescent library lights. This wasn’t the version where he kissed you outside your apartment in the snow for the first time.

The version of him that had met you.

Sunghoon’s breathing started to shorten again. He had one hand pressed flat against it the thick and textured trunk of the tree, as if it could keep the world from tilting. The autumn air began feeling suffocating instead of crisp, and the stray threads inside his stupidly bright green sweater began scratching at the hairs on his arms, penetrating through to itch his skin.

think think think think think

Jake? Jake knew you first, didn’t he?

He couldn’t give less of a fuck about his stupid CHEM 1010 class, not when the idea of you not being in his life again was wrapping heavy hands around his neck and choking him. His thumb fumbled as he opened Jake’s contact and scrolled through his messages. Most of it was stupid nonsense, with the most recent text being Jake begging him to skip class for food. Then, buried between them, secluded amongst the sheer amount of back-and-forth texts, was a diamond in the rough.

jake: bro r u coming to the library tmrw nite? jake: y/n’s gonna be there too jake: bro please be normal this time 😭🙏

Sunghoon choked out a broken sound, a cacophony of laughter and sobbing. His knees nearly gave out from the release of tension in his muscles. He pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes, digging it into his eyes to steady himself. Sunghoon didn’t care that he looked like an idiot in the middle of campus while students walked around him. After all, they were ignoring him like his spectacle was an everyday occurrence. He couldn’t care less.

you existed here you were here alive breathing here here in this world not six feet under but above ground walking talking breathing living

Sunghoon stared at the message until the words blurred.

y/n’s gonna be there too

alive alive alive

You were no longer trapped inside of the pictures hung up on the walls. Not reduced to old voice messages and the lingering scent on the piles of clothes you left around the apartment and in your hamper. Not a mere name carved into stone and buried under the solid, winter dirt.

alive.

Sunghoon’s chest caved in on itself. If he had not met you like he did two months ago in the dining hall, then would you both be starting from square one now? Does that mean that he had another chance to start from the beginning? To love you again, wholeheartedly, and make sure that you wouldn’t die? That instead of two measly years, he could love you for an entire lifetime? Or were you destined to meet the same fate again?

He didn’t hesitate to decide. No matter what lifetime he was in, he would make the same decision. He would choose you again, every time, even knowing how it ended. Grief this devastating could only exist because love had once been so kind, and now that he had a chance to experience your living love again, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.

Sunghoon: r we still on for the library?

“I didn’t think making a grade calculator would be this fucking hard, oh my god.”

You and Sunghoon were both deep into three Red Bulls, eyes bloodshot and accessorized with grey and purple bags hanging under them. Sunghoon exhaled and slammed his laptop shut, before immediately pulling it open again to reveal the same piece of coding that had been mocking the both of you for hours. Meanwhile, you were slumped over your own laptop, fingers tapping away at your keyboard meaninglessly. Honestly, you weren’t even trying to fix the code, you were just typing a bunch of bullshit into the program.

“Seriously, why did I choose CS?” Sunghoon sulked, about to begin reflecting on every decision that led him there, before you snapped him out of it with a few delicate taps to his arm.

“How about we take a study break, hm?” You tilted your head, smiling up at him. Even though you look exhausted, you still managed to muster up a warm grin on your lips that instantly quelled his anxieties about your project. “Where should we go… it’s pretty chilly outside…” You thought aloud. The way your eyes flicked up and your hand dramatically stroked your chin endeared him, blossoming an aggressive affection in his chest. He squeezed his hands into a fist, trying to resist pinching your cheeks.

“What time is it now? 2AM? Is anything even open?” Sunghoon yawned. You thought about it for a second before gasping. Sunghoon could almost visualize the lightbulb flashing above your head.

“Let’s eat ramyeon at the convenience store on the main road!” You suggested. The brown-haired boy hummed in agreement, standing up abruptly to stretch before putting on his coat. You both abandoned your things and put your trust in student honor as you began your 10-minute walk down the street, leaving the warm and humid library in favor of the chilly autumn weather.

“Sunghoon, have I ever asked you about your lore?” You suddenly asked. Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Lore? What does that mean?” He responded, confusion puppeting his eyebrows into a furrow. You puffed up your cheeks as you thought about how to explain the term.

“Like– your cool anime backstory, or whatever…” You answered, embarrassed at the way you chose to describe it. Sunghoon snickered, shaking his head.

“Uhm, I don’t think I have a cool anime backstory, or whatever…” He started to think. “Well… I have a younger sister and then I used to figure-skate. Nothing really interesting, I don’t think…” You gasped at his downplaying of his abilities.

“You used to figure-skate? That’s so cool! When did you start?” You smiled, eyes sparkling at looking up at him with wonder. Sunghoon’s face flushed even harder.

“Uhm… when I was pretty young… I was pretty good at it, other people tell me. But I didn’t have many friends when I was a kid because I was the only guy who did figure-skating,” he continued. You tilted your head curiously.

“Do you have any pictures, Hoon?” You perked up. He tried to ignore the flutter in his heart with the usage of your sudden nickname, instead opting to fumble for his phone. He hid away the Patrick Batemen lockscreen he forgot to change before flashing you a photo of his younger self.

Child Sunghoon was round and soft, with a cute and awkward smile on his face. He wore a flashy costume, a white button-up with silver glitter lining everywhere that it could trace. In his hands was a trophy and a bouquet of flowers. A coo immediately erupted from your throat as you took it in. “Sooo cute, ohmygod!” You gasped. His shining pupils disappeared as he smiled, bashful as he looked away. He turned off the phone, causing you to whine.

“Nooo~ Hoon, send me the photo! I’ll make it your contact!”

As much as he didn’t want to give in, ultimately, he did. He airdropped the photo to you, which you received with a delighted squeal. Sunghoon peered over your shoulder, trying to subtly look at what you were going to do. Just as you said, you immediately went to change his assigned contact photo to the child version of his picture. But as you opened his chatbox, his heart stuttered. His number was saved under ‘hoon <3.’

He immediately jerked his head away, blushing profusely as he tried to ignore the steady and rising thumping in his chest. You looked up at him, oblivious to the motions his body was going through.

“Soo, what ramyeon should we eat?”

Sunghoon didn’t know shit about biology, so he left his lab as soon as the class ended.

His labmates were very obviously frustrated, not-so-subtly glaring at him as they passive-aggressively shot their DNA samples into the wells of the gel electrophoresis. One of his lab mates, a nice boy named Sunoo, leaned in to whisper into his ear, “Are you okay? You’re normally never this slow?” And after a reassuring nod, Sunoo pouted and looked away. Sunghoon guessed that meant he was actually skilled in biology, but he knew for sure that this Sunghoon, the one who wanted to pursue cybersecurity, didn’t know jackshit about DNA, RNA, and whatever the Central Dogma was.

Sunghoon was hungry, his brain was overloaded with too much new information, and all he could think about was the thought of seeing you. Breathing, alive, and here. So as soon as the TA dismissed everyone, he sprinted out of the lab and across campus to the library. He didn’t care if he looked stupid, clutching his backpack strap and punching his shoulders backwards and forwards in order to gain more momentum as he ran for his life. All he cared about was you. you you you

As he neared the library, waiting for the crosswalk to turn green for pedestrians, he whipped out his phone to text Jake.

Sunghoon: Hey Jake. Where are U sitting. Sunghoon: What floor are U on? Sunghoon: Where R U located. jake: ???? jake: were on the fourth floor in a cubby jake: why r u texting so weird LOL when dod u use punctuations n caps? Sunghoon: Uhhh trying out a new style of texting. jake: wtv man just dont act like a weirdo with y/n LOL jake: dont tell her i said this but she said shes excited to see u

Sunghoon’s heart was pounding, and he was sure it wasn’t because of the intense cardio. He looked back and forth on the road, tapping his foot impatiently as the crosswalk was still red. As soon as the street was cleared of cars, he began rapidly walking across the road, ignoring the protests of the crossguard with an embarrassed expression on his face.

He practically bolted across the small lawn in front of the library in order to enter it, panting as he climbed up the large flight of stairs leading up to the main entrance. He pushed the doors open, his feet rapidly clicking against the tiled floor as he raced to find you and Jake. He rounded around the entirety of the fourth floor, ignoring the pointed and obvious stares of the other people trying to study. Soft chatter and giggles filled the wide floor, as well as the sounds of keyboards clicking under pressure and Apple pencils tapping against screens. But one particular sound stood out to him.

The sound of your sweet, sweet laughter.

He nearly tripped as he rounded the corner, only to see the glorious sight that his heart had been searching for forever.

You.

You were sitting cross-legged on one of the seats in the cubby, your laptop balanced on your thighs and a Red Bull cracked open beside you. The same, sugar-free flavor that you always liked when you both studied together and that Sunghoon conditioned himself into loving, too. Jake was next to you, saying something dramatic with his hands, and you were laughing at him– your head tipped back slightly, eyes squinting, your smile so bright that it was the only thing he could see.

For a moment, the entire world went silent until his ears began ringing. There was nothing else in the world except you.

Just you.

Alive.

Not framed in a photograph, not buried under frozen dirt, and not simply reduced to a voice memo he replayed at three in the morning because he was afraid he’d forget the exact cadence of your laugh.

You were here.

You were breathing, laughing, smiling, moving, existing. Alive.

Sunghoon stopped walking.

His body forgot how to function, rooted to the tiled floor as if one more step would shatter the fragile miracle in front of him. His vision blurred almost instantly, tears gathering so fast it embarrassed him.

Because you were there, right in front of him after the seasons had changed and months had passed since he last saw you.

Wearing some oversized hoodie he recognized from years ago, sleeves covering half your hands. Your hair slightly messy, your lips wrapped around the straw of your drink, your foot absentmindedly bumping against Jake’s chair.

You were so alive.

Sunghoon’s throat closed as the tears wouldn’t stop. He hurriedly brought up his sleeves to wipe his eyes. He had spent months begging the universe for this. Whether he was in the kitchen, pleading to have you back so you could wash your dirty dishes. Or buried in the side of your bed, his face smothered by the scent-heavy fabric of your pillow case. At your grave, where your name engraved into the stone mocked him and the dates of your birth and date blending in together. In every quiet second where grief became too heavy to carry, and Sunghoon’s body would collapse from the sheer weight of it all on his back.

Yet now, here you were, as if no time had passed at all and Sunghoon was back to day one. 

Jake noticed him first, standing outside the cubicle like a weirdo. To be fair, Jake thought Sunghoon was a weirdo until he recognized the vibrant fashion choice. “Dude, finally—” Jake started, the beginnings of a laugh about to escape his throat, but the words died in his throat when he saw Sunghoon’s face, because Sunghoon looked like he was seeing a ghost.

Your eyes followed Jake’s, landing on him, and Sunghoon’s breath hitched. He had your eyes on him, and they hadn’t changed from the last time he saw you. They were as bright as he remembered, with the stars of the night filling them with a shine so breathtaking that Sunghoon couldn’t believe that this was real.

And then you smiled, the same smile that always instantly calmed him down, alleviating him of any negative thoughts. You smiled like you hadn’t fucking died, and Sunghoon was almost angry at how naive you looked, oblivious to the suffering that he had gone through for months without seeing that beautiful visage. But as soon as your lips curled, they faltered.

“Sunghoon?” you said, tilting your head a little. “Are you okay?”

God, your voice was as melodic as he remembered. So softspoken per usual, with a tune that was like angels were singing. A broken sound left his throat before he could stop it— a half laugh and a half sob mixing together to produce something ugly and raw. His hand came up to cover his mouth like he could physically shove the emotions and sound back inside of his throat. But he couldn’t. because you were looking at him finally after months of going without it.

alive alive alive youre really alive and youre really here and youre smiling so pretty so beautiful my sweet girlfriend my y/n mine mine mine youre mine

Tears spilled over despite every humiliating attempt to stop them. Your expression immediately shifted, your weak grin fading into a concerned look as you stood up too quickly, chair scraping against the floor.

“Dude— are you crying?” Jake asked. You hissed at him, silently scolding him for his dumb question. Sunghoon couldn’t help but laugh because that was such a you thing and you were doing it like you always did before and he can’t stop crying you’re you you’re you you’re you

“I’m fine,” he lied instantly, voice cracking so badly it made Jake wince.

You took another step closer. You were so close, so close that he could smell the same sweet perfume that you always wore. The one that he kept on your nightstand to let macerate after you died. The one that was masked by the putrid smell of formaldehyde at your funeral. The one that he spent the last couple of months trying to get a whiff of out of your dirty clothes and unwashed pillowcase.

This was torture. You were standing there looking so beautiful but so painfully not his. Because at this point in time, you didn’t know him yet. Not the way his you did. No, this you didn’t know the shape of his hands in the dark, or how he took his coffee, or the way he only liked sleeping if the weight of his leg was thrown over his. You didn’t know about the apartment that you both lived in until it was just him, alone, with the broken promises of forever and eternal love left to remember you by.

Sunghoon’s fingers twitched at his side. He wanted to reach out to at least brush his fingertips over your arms. He wanted to hold your face. He wanted to hear your heartbeat to make sure that it was beating. He wanted to bury himself in your arms and stay there until the last few months faded until it didn’t exist to him anymore, so he could at least pretend like your death had never happened and he finally got his happily ever after. But he was scared. So scared that if he touched you, he was afraid he would never let go, or you’d vanish and disappear, or he’d wake up from this beautiful dream that was your world.

So instead, he just stood there sobbing and shaking his head like an idiot in the middle of the library.

Sunghoon was inconsolable for an hour.

He honestly thought that an hour was too short for his whiplash of relief and anguish to stop, but he was fine.

Nope, he wasn’t. You patted his back and he began sobbing again.

“Dude, are you okay? What’s wrong, man? I’ve never seen you like this before…” Jake asked, worry laced in his accent-heavy voice. You looked at Jake, your eyebrows knitted in concern for the poor boy sobbing his heart out in front of you.

“Are you having a hard time because of midterms? It’s okay, Sunghoon, it’s okay to cry… let it out, you’ve probably had a stressful week… don’t worry, you’ve worked hard…” You tried to comfort him, but he only sobbed harder because this was something that you would definitely say. Sunghoon sniffled, but let out a few coughs instead. Jake unsuccessfully stifled his snickers as the younger boy began to cough excessively, before crying harder.

“Jake…” you silently hissed, thwacking his shoulder with a heavy hand. His mouth opened as he flinched back. Sunghoon finally calmed down after a while, staring at you with wide eyes. Your hand was still resting lightly against his back, warm through the thin fabric of his sweater, and he thought he might start crying again just from that alone. It was after he processed your body heat that he realized you were touching him. You weren’t a memory or a dream anymore, and most importantly, this is real. Not some cruel hallucination his grief-ridden brain had conjured to keep him from completely falling apart.

Jake looked between the two of you like he was watching a live drama unfold in front of him. “Okay,” he said slowly, dragging the word out. “So, uh, what happened, man?”

Sunghoon opened his mouth.

Nothing. Because what was he supposed to say? Sorry, I watched the love of my life die, spent months rotting in our apartment, cried myself to sleep holding her jacket, and then apparently got thrown backward into freshman year like some sick cosmic joke?

He knew Jake believed in the idea of multiple universes. He knew that from his constant rant about physics and the laws of the galaxy or whatever the hell Jake yapped about– it wasn’t like Sunghoon didn’t care about Jake’s interests. He just didn’t understand. But Sunghoon wasn’t sure that Jake would be so open-minded to find out that he had time-traveled two years into the past from a future that you died in.

Sunghoon simply swallowed hard and just looked away. “I just…” His voice came out hoarse. “I had a really bad dream.”

Jake blinked. “Dude, that bad?” He grimaced.

Sunghoon nodded with a small frown. Your expression softened immediately, and Sunghoon immediately noticed the shift in your face. Because you were giving him that unbearably gentle look you always gave him when he was trying too hard to pretend he was okay, the same look that Sunghoon got when he failed his CSO midterm in sophomore year and when he almost flunked Prob Stat. It made his chest ache with a comforting nostalgia.

“Sunghoon,” you said softly, pulling your chair out beside yours, “you should sit down before you pass out or something. You look like you ran here.” You giggled. Sunghoon sniffled, his plump bottom lip jutted out in a pretty pink pout. His cheeks were now streaked with the dried-up stream of his tears and his entire face was flushed and puffy. You sounded so pretty when you said his name. Sunghoon let out a weak, embarrassed laugh and sat where you told him to, because your voice still had the same authority over him that it always would.

Jake shoved a tissue packet toward him across the table, the plastic messily torn open, as if Jake didn’t care for tabs that instructed him. “For our sobbing Sunghoon…” he snickered. You and Sunghoon both smacked his arm.

“Shut up,” Sunghoon croaked, his voice still ruined from crying. You laughed softly at that, and the sound nearly made him start all over again. He pulled off his glasses and dabbed uselessly at his face while desperately trying to act like a normal person and not a man whose entire soul had just been resurrected by the sight of you alive. When he put back on his glasses, his vision clear from tears and poor eyesight, they landed on your laptop.

The screen was still open beside you, but instead of lines of code and an unfinished project like he expected, he caught sight of anatomy diagrams and a color-coded set of notes. Organs, labeled veins, tiny handwritten mnemonics in the margins. On another tab, a link to register for CNA classes. Sunghoon blinked, confused.

“…You’re not in CS.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. Jake snorted immediately. Your eyebrows lifted in confusion before you laughed. “No? Definitely not.” You turned your laptop a little toward him, showing him the mess of biology notes even though you didn’t really have to prove it to him.

“I’m a nursing major, unfortunately,” you sighed dramatically. “Heavy emphasis on the unfortunately this week. I have a poster presentation due for chem lab this week, and my group partners suck… They keep ghosting me… but what can you expect from engineering majors?” You joked lightly. “Hey, did you think I was a CS major ‘cuz I keep hanging out with this stinky loser?” You pouted.

“Hey!” Jake protested in the background, but Sunghoon didn’t care. His word was tilting even more on its axis, and he felt like the laws of the universe were rewriting themselves.

“No– No, sorry… I guess I mistook your major for someone else’s…” Sunghoon nervously laughed. “Uhm… Is– is it hard– Nursing, I mean?” Sunghoon meekly gulped. You smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, but, I guess everything is hard, right? I don’t think I could ever take discrete or linear or anything of that sort.” You giggled. Sunghoon swallowed dryly and nodded. What would you think if you knew you were his tutor in those classes when you guys dated? Would you laugh him off in disbelief, or would you brush it off and claim yourself as a genius…?

Jake rolled his eyes at how awkward you both were. He distracted himself with his Calc III homework, trying to ignore the very obvious attraction looming over the both of your heads. He thought to himself as he made a very hard point to not stare at the both of you guys speaking.

“Man, I hope I don’t have to third-wheel.”

Your number was in Sunghoon’s phone now, saved under your name.

You had input your own contact name, a simple formality of your name, and in parentheses (jake’s friend). But you were more than just Jake’s friend to him, so he changed it as soon as he got back to his dorm, replacing the parentheses with a sweet and simple ‘<3’ instead. He resisted the urge to text you as soon as all three of you left the library.

Sunghoon took a shower as soon as he got back to his dorm. It had been so long since he stepped foot in a communal shower that he almost stepped in barefoot. He almost freaked out when he realized he forgot his shower slippers. He stepped back in, feet now clad in slippers and his shower caddy in hand. The water pressure was harsher than he remembered, the shower spray hitting his scalp like bullets. His caddy only contained a simple shampoo, conditioner, and bar soap, which made him grimace internally. When he did his skincare, he tried to ignore the oily feeling that sat like a film over his skin.

Jay greeted him when he entered his dorm again, his wet hair dripping a pathway into the shared space and his slippers flopping against the wooden floor. “Hey man.” Jay briefly looked up, staring at his laptop as he softly strummed his guitar. “You going to bed soon? I can stop playing.”

“No, you’re good, Jay…” Sunghoon replied, taking off his glasses and setting it back into the case, the magnetized plastic snapping shut. Sunghoon grunted as he climbed onto the top bunk of his bed. Jay smiled and nodded, before going back to playing around with his acoustic guitar.

Sunghoon tucked himself under the covers, letting out a small sigh of relief. His back was aching, and his eyes felt a bit sore. He rubbed at the sides of his cheekbones, trying to relieve the puffiness in his face. Suddenly, his phone pinged, causing the black-haired boy to flinch. He reached for his device, tucked under the pillow, opening it only to see your name in his notification center.

y/n <3: hii sunghoon! did u get back to ur dorm yet? i just got back y/n <3: r u feeling better now? Sunghoon: I got back safe. Sunghoon: Thank U for today. Sunghoon: Sorry for being weird. y/n <3: LOL its okay y/n <3: honestly i was kinda flattered Sunghoon: Flattered??? y/n <3: yeah y/n <3: imagine crying that hard after seeing me y/n <3: my ego is huge now y/n <3: but seriously are u okay?

Sunghoon stared at the message, unsure how to respond. Too many answers began to crowd his throat, and he was certain he was about to start crying again. But instead, he typed:

Sunghoon: Bad dream. Sunghoon: Thats all. y/n <3: aw man i’ve been having weird dreams too… but i hope u have a good dream tnt… y/n <3: come study w me again tomorrow!!!

Tomorrow. There was going to be a tomorrow with you.

y/n <3: OH y/n <3: and dont cry again when u see me pls y/n <3: what if i get bullying allegations…

Sunghoon covered his face with one hand, laughing weakly into his palm. God, you were just like how you were back in freshman year of college. Always so approachable and kind, so sweet and patient. Sunghoon bit his lip to stifle his tears, not wanting to interrupt Jay’s peaceful strumming.

Was this a chance from the universe to win you back? To have you back in his arms where you were supposed to be? Were the stars realigning for your love to reconcile? To give you a chance at the life that was taken away from you too early?

Because if so, then who was Sunghoon to deny the universe’s gift?

He vowed it there and then– that he would make you his once again.

The next few weeks blurred together for Sunghoon. Time did feel fake, after all.

At first, he thought being around you again would continue hurting. He’d thought that every time he’d seen you after your first encounter, he’d start crying over and over again. He thought every glance at your face would reopen the wound inside his chest until he bled out from the sheer amount of grief that had welled up in his hollow chest since that fateful winter morning.

But instead, Sunghoon got used to you again.

Between your late-night study sessions and meaningless unproductive chatter in the library, you slipped into his life as naturally as you did the first time around. And now, you managed to sew yourself into the knittings of his daily life cycle again. Your “study nights” turned into convenience store midnight snacks. You invited him to your dorm to “fix the wallpaper” which ended up with you guys reminiscing about your high school days. Your texts became routine too, and every single notification still made his heart jump. Some nights, you’d call him instead. (But your sleepy voice through the speaker sounded too much like the nights in your shared apartment when you’d mumble nonsense into his chest before falling asleep.)

Sunghoon didn’t realize it until late, but he began to notice he was listening and watching you pre-emptively. When you told him about the guy you had beef with for talking back to the teacher back in high school, Sunghoon already knew that. Before you told him you had a bad habit of chewing on the sides of your fingernails when nervous, Sunghoon had already told you to stop. He already knew everything about you. From the way you’d subtly eye the way he took bites of food even after insisting you weren’t hungry to the way your nose would twitch before you started crying– Sunghoon knew every single minute detail about you.

You never commented on it. Sunghoon hoped you just chalked it up to him being observant rather than looking like a creepy stalker who cried whenever he saw a pretty girl. 

“Hoon? Helloooo? Earth to Hoon?”

Your hand was waving in front of his face, a pout on your lips. “Zoning out again?” You huffed. He smiled, cheeks puffing up as he looked at you. You both were in the convenience store again, looking for a late-night snack amidst your endless studying for finals.

“Yeah, just thinking what to get,” he replied, following you around as you scoured the aisles. You kept whipping your head back and forth, scanning each item meticulously as you thought about what you were craving. Absentmindedly, you rubbed your tummy over your hoodie, pouting slightly. 

“I dunno what to get either. Should I get a drink too? ‘M kinda thirsty.” You hummed, pinching a drink pouch between your fingers as you examined the flavors. Sunghoon watched as you looked around. He suddenly reached out to give you a green grape flavored drink pouch. You looked at him, confused but still smiling.

“Thanks, Hoon, but I don’t really like green grape.”

What?

Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “Really? You don’t like green grape?” His tone was wavering, and you were puzzled. He sounded so torn up about the fact that you didn’t like green grape.

“Are you a green grape superfan, Hoon?” You laughed, reaching for the lychee pouch instead. Sunghoon’s face remained confused, his eyebrows knitted and lips twisted up into a weird pout. He shook his head, making you laugh.

“You’re so weird sometimes, Hoon…” you said, giggling as you picked up an ice cup. Sunghoon followed you, still perplexed as you continued to pick your late-night meal.

Because you loved green grape and hated lychee.

He remembered when you told him about how you hated lychee. It was too sweet, but green grapes were just right for you— a perfect balance of sour and sweet in a small fruit. He remembered laughing at you about it, teasing you for being so nitpicky with your fruit, so why were you here eyeing every sweet fruit flavored pouch?

Your fingers skimmed across all of the ramyeon cup noodle packages, your head tilting as you tried to find the perfect one. Sunghoon was still behind you, but his footsteps became slower and more mechanic as his brain was racing. “What about this flavor?” Sunghoon picked up your favorite, Carbonara Buldak. You scrunched your noise and picked up the 2X Spicy Buldak instead.

“I like really spicy things, Hoon! The carbonara isn’t spicy enough for me!”

His mind was clipped, as if everything he had been thinking of suddenly disappeared. Sunghoon could excuse the change of majors— hell, his own major changed when he woke up in the past. But the few little things that he had grown to love were even changing in front of his own eyes.

“Ah? Really… this flavor is good too…” he mumbled, nearly incoherent. You laughed, furrowing your eyebrows before going to pay for your food. He followed behind, mindlessly tapping his card to pay for your things, his racing mind drowning out the sounds of your whined protests.

It was after that when Sunghoon began watching you closely.

During movie nights, you happily stole bites of Jake’s mint chocolate chip without even batting an eye, but you hated mint chocolate chip ice cream because your cousin threw it up on you when you were seven. You sucked at chemistry and nearly cried over memorizing all the molecular orbital structures, but now you could solve a retrosynthetic analysis question with a single glance, as if you were adding one plus one. You told him one late night walking back to the dorms that you became a nursing major because your mother was a nurse, but Sunghoon remembered his “future-mother-in-law” actually worked in an IT department, which led to your passion for computer systems.

This version of you didn’t scrunch your nose at sickly sweet candle scents anymore. This version of you didn’t like wearing cute pieces of jewelry that framed your body like an art piece. This version of you didn’t like dogs. This version of you hated rom-coms. This version of you wasn’t exactly his.

The more time Sunghoon spent in this world, the more wrong everything felt. You were still here, and that’s all that he believed he cared for. But everything felt wrong enough to keep him up at night, recounting all of the true memories he shared with you. This place looked like his world, his universe, but every day, more tiny differences revealed themselves like cracks in glass to the point where the fragile world that Sunghoon wanted to believe in was about to collapse.

You’re still Y/N. Sunghoon couldn’t deny that. But you didn’t feel like the same Y/N that he fell in love with sometimes. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from loving you again. Sunghoon could ignore the minor changes in your life if it meant having you all over again, right?

“You’re staring again.”

Sunghoon blinked, immediately looking away from you across the table. Where was he again…? He glanced around, taking in his surroundings that was the study area on the first floor of your dorm building. Sunghoon briefly looked at the multitude of formulas you had written on the whiteboard of the small room before directing his gaze back at you.

“I am not,” he muttered.

“Soo we’re lying now…?” you laughed, spinning the whiteboard marker between your fingers. “You always stare at me, Hoon. Do you know that? It’s like you know something I don’t… like you know everything, or something, or whatever… You’re so suspicious sometimes….” Sunghoon shrugged awkwardly and looked back down at his laptop screen.

“It’s not that, promise. You’re just hard to look away from,” he mumbled before he could stop himself, the reply coming easily to him. It was something that he used to tell you all the time.

Your face flushed immediately, and Sunghoon felt warmth crawl up his own neck too. But unlike before, he didn’t panic under your gaze anymore. Sunghoon used to be scared of moving closer to you. Was it too bold to constantly sit next to you? To comfortably lean into your space as if it was his too? He was itching to have you be his again.

But over the past month, you had become comfortable around him too. Comfortable enough to lean against his shoulder during late-night bus rides. Comfortable enough to nab food off of his dining hall plates. Comfortable enough to text him first thing in the morning and last thing before sleeping. Comfortable enough that sometimes, when you laughed too hard, you’d instinctively grab onto his arm.

You’re too cruel. You were unknowingly becoming his again. But Sunghoon didn’t know what to think. All his mind could conjure was the question of how fast you could be his again– should he confess now? But instead, he continued to stare as you worked through your chemistry practice exam questions.

One evening, the three of you ended up stuck in the library until nearly midnight because Jake refused to finish his Calc assignment anywhere else. Sunghoon had long stopped pretending to study. Instead, he watched you again. He couldn’t care less if you thought he was staring again. To be fair, you were half-asleep beside him, cheek squished against your folded arms while pretending to read anatomy notes. It’s not like you could exactly call him out when you were on the verge of passing out.

Your highlighter slipped from your fingers. Sunghoon picked it up before it rolled off the table. Your eyes fluttered open tiredly. “…Thanks,” you mumbled softly. Even exhausted, you looked beautiful. A dangerous tenderness spread through his chest so intensely that it almost scared him. He felt like he was falling harder this time, especially knowing how you both would end up anyways.

“Sunghoon.”

He blinked out of his thoughts. You were staring at him again, your hooded lids fighting to stay open to look at him properly. “Yes?” He replied softly, not wanting his loud voice to puncture you out of your sleep-filled daze.

“You were zoning out...” You frowned slightly, your voice slurring slightly from how exhausted you were. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

Every time he looked at you for too long, memories overlapped. You laughing in the library became you laughing in your apartment kitchen. You falling asleep beside him at a study table became you sleeping on his chest during thunderstorms. Your warm fingertips caressing his soft cheeks before leaning in to press your lips against his–

Sometimes the timelines blended together so badly he forgot which version of you he was seeing. But Sunghoon couldn’t say that, so instead he lied, “I’m okay.”

You looked unconvinced. Then, after a moment, your hand slowly slid across the table toward his. It was a decision that you carefully made– Sunghoon could tell by the way you suddenly spaced out and looked left to right as if physically weighing the choices between touching and not touching him. It was barely anything– a pebble of physical touch that pebbled in comparison to the boulders of love that he used to share with you. It was just your pinky lightly touching his, tentative and careful. You looked shy immediately after doing it, eyes darting away. But Sunghoon felt love blossom in his chest nonetheless.

“…You don’t have to tell me if something’s wrong,” you murmured. “But I hope you know you don’t have to deal with everything alone.” The warmth of your skin against his nearly killed him.

Fuck, so what if some things changed? You were still you in every universe. So kind and gentle and always reaching for him, noticing almost intuitively when Sunghoon was about to lose himself. He carefully hooked his pinky around yours under the table, sending you a reassuring and small grin. Your breath caught slightly, not expecting him to so confidently touch you back.

Jake looked up from his homework. “…Am I interrupting something,” he deadpanned, already knowing the answer despite still asking.

“No,” both of you answered immediately. Jake narrowed his eyes, but didn’t reply. He just let out a quiet sigh before going back to scribbling on his iPad again. You finally closed your eyes to go back to sleep, a subtle and content smile lingering on your lips. Your pinky was still tightly interlocked with his while your other arm relaxed.

Maybe the universe had rewritten details. So what your majors changed or your histories changed? Who cares if this wasn’t his original life?

Because all that mattered to Sunghoon was that you still found your way back to him anyway.

“Hey Hoon!”

Jay entered the dorm in a ruckus, hissing as his guitar case nearly slammed the doorframe and cursing when he stubbed his foot against the wooden plank of the actual door. Sunghoon rushed to hold the door open for his roommate, wincing as Jay slammed his backpack to the ground.

“You okay, Jay? I haven’t seen you in awhile.” Sunghoon took note of the slightly older boy’s appearance. He looked disheveled, with eyebags accessorizing his face and sunken-in cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been busy looking for internships and studying for finals— shit— and these networking events are kicking my ass. They’re like, ‘oh, you need at least 3 years of experience!’ But it’s a fucking entry-level position!” He ranted. Sunghoon smiled softly at the familiar ramblings— at least Jay didn’t change.

“What a tough life you live, Jay.” Sunghoon sighed.

Jay dropped face-first onto his bed with a loud groan, one arm dangling off the side dramatically. “I’m serious, Hoon. If one more recruiter tells me to ‘circle back next semester,’ I’m actually gonna lose it.”

Sunghoon huffed out a quiet laugh from his desk, spinning a mechanical pencil between his fingers. He had chemistry notes spread out in front of him, though he hadn’t processed a single word in the last couple of hours. His brain had been occupied by you since the moment he woke up. “Whatcha doin, man? Homework?” Jay peered over the railings of his bed to look down at Sunghoon’s desk. The younger boy ran his fingers through his silky hair, tilting his head.

“Yeah, just reading the textbook for my Chem discussion. I’m not going to lie, I don’t really understand anything right now…” Sunghoon laughed. The side of Jay’s lips crooked up into a teasing smirk, like he knew something that the other boy didn’t.

“Oh? Chem discussion, huh?”

“What does that mean?” Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Jay wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, licking at his bottom lip in a weird display that made Sunghoon squirm with discomfort.

“OKAY, don’t tell Jake that I told you this but… he’s been texting me about you and Y/N…” Jay let out, sounding exasperated as if he just lifted a huge weight off his shoulders. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. He didn’t expect Jay to say this to him, but he was sure that Jake was telling at least some other person about the rapid development of friendship between you and Sunghoon.

“Really? What is he saying?” Sunghoon acted nonchalant, trying to appear relaxed to coax Jay into spilling more. Jay looked around briefly, biting his lip before leaning in closer.

“Okay, basically.. he’s saying that you and Y/N have been hanging out a lot like— one-on-one without him…” Jay excitedly rolled. Sunghoon nodded. “But you know how Jake is– he tried asking Y/N about you and she thought he was acting weird because he sucks at being subtle… so can I ask you about it? Like, are you guys talking or…” The silver-haired boy trailed off awkwardly, waiting for Sunghoon to finish his question.

The raven-haired male tilted his head. “Uhm… I guess so…” he sheepishly replied. What else was he supposed to say? “Nah, I’m actually trying to get my girlfriend back after she died in another universe???”

“I’m happy for you man, really.” The sincerity in Jay’s voice was almost worrisome.

“Oh, uh, thanks, Jay…” Sunghoon smiled awkwardly, unsure how to respond to the genuine pride that Jay had carried in his tone. The silver-haired man nodded, seemingly content before rolling back into bed. But seriously, what the hell did he mean by Chem discussion?

“I never expected you to make the first move, honestly. I heard from Jake that you were the one who initiated your first hangout together, right?” Jay spoke, his eyes glued to the ceiling that had white paint falling off the bone. Sunghoon hummed in agreement, but was getting impatient. Couldn’t Jay get to the point already? “Man, I remember when you first talked about her to me. They grow up so fast,” he continued to ramble, his speech slurring as sleep began hitting him. Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows. When did he ever talk to him about you?

“Jay, I think I just met the love of my life in Chem discussion!”

Sunghoon froze. He shot up in his seat, nearly tripping as he ran to the side of Jay’s bunk. His fingers curled into the railings protruding from the frame of the bed, his warm skin cooling against the frigid metal material. “What? Jay, what? When did I tell you this?” He rapid-fired at the older boy. Jay yawned, rubbing his eyes.

“Remember? When school started? You went to Chem discussion annoyed with the readings and came back like a lovestruck idiot.”

“What? When school started back in August, Jay?” Sunghoon sputtered out. Jay nodded with another yawn.

“Yeah, man, remember? You woke up so annoyed about all the readings you did, but when you came back you were like, head-over-heels. You said it was love-at-first sight.” Jay snorted quietly at the memory, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. “Dude, it was actually kinda insane. You came back to the dorm and wouldn’t shut up about her.”

Sunghoon stared at him, pulse beginning to pound against his ribs.

“…What did I say?” he asked carefully.

Jay grinned immediately, already amused by the memory. “You were acting crazy, man. Like genuinely gone.” He pushed himself up slightly on his elbows. “Jay, I think I just met the prettiest girl ever. Jay, I think I’m in love. Jay, she smiled at me and I forgot what I was saying!” He exclaimed, trying to imitate Sunghoon’s unique tone.

“You’re exaggerating,” Sunghoon muttered weakly, but his head was slowly began to pound with the thought of him gushing about you before he met you. As if his consciousness existed before he woke up in the past.

“Swear, I’m not.” Jay laughed. Sunghoon’s stomach twisted. “You told me she sat two rows ahead of you during discussion, that she had these little charms hanging off her pencil case, that she kept pushing her hair behind her ear while talking to her discussion group—” He suddenly paused, staring at Sunghoon suspiciously. “Wait, why are you acting like you don’t remember this?”

Sunghoon’s throat tightened immediately. He didn’t. This wasn’t the right beginning or the right way of meeting you. He could’ve excused the minor changes about your preferences, discrepancies in your life, but now there were too many that his head couldn’t keep up. And now, your entire story was beginning to collapse in front of his eyes, through his ears, even if he wasn’t there to experience it.

“I dunno,” he lied quickly. “I think I’m just tired. I– I have a headache…” Sunghoon stumbled to his side of the bed.

Jay looked unconvinced for a second before shrugging. “Well, anyway, after that you started acting weird as hell,” he continued.

“Weird how?”

“You kept dressing up for Chem discussion.” Jay barked out a laugh. “Like suddenly you cared about your appearance. You asked me if your hair looked okay before class.”

Sunghoon nearly recoiled in horror. “I would never ask you that. I always look good.”

Jay furrowed his eyebrows, but barked back accusingly, “You did. And then after discussion ended, you’d come back looking all devastated because you never talked to her.”

Sunghoon’s chest ached strangely. He felt as if he could picture it so vividly. Him sitting in chemistry discussion secretly staring at you. Getting nervous. Fixing his hair in the reflection of his phone screen. Trying to work up the courage to speak to you. Falling in love slowly and naturally without grief or death or memories of a future that already happened clouding every rational thought in his brain.

Jay continued rambling, oblivious to the way Sunghoon’s expression had begun to fall. “And then one day Jake mentioned his hometown friend named Y/N and you literally interrupted him mid-sentence.” Jay laughed harder now, fully awake from recounting the story. “‘Wait— Y/N? Nursing major? Chem discussion on Thursdays?’ Dude, your face was priceless.”

Sunghoon felt sick. He didn’t know you were a nursing major until that fateful night he had seen you in the library. “Oh my god, dude I feel like I’ve been holding this in. Remember the first time you guys talked?” Sunghoon’s heartbeat was thudding loudly in his ears, and he’s sure that they were about to ring. He remained silent, and Jay took it as a sign to keep rambling.

“You said she asked to borrow an EXPO marker during discussion because hers was out of ink or something.” He snorted. “You kept replaying the conversation like a loser, saying that her voice was like descending from the angels.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened around the railing of Jay’s bunk. He agreed, but he wouldn’t ever verbalize is like that so shamelessly. He honestly thought saying something like that was a little corny, and then the realization began to sink in.

He wouldn’t say that. No, not him. Another version of him.

It was then when it dawned about Sunghoon. God, he hadn't even considered the possibility that another version of him existed before he became conscious. But that meant something that Sunghoon didn't even want to even think about considering– some empty timeline where he had conveniently slotted himself into a vacant life, or where he went back into the past two years with just a few butterfly effects changing the outcomes. This universe already had a Park Sunghoon who liked you before future Sunghoon ever woke up here. And Sunghoon had stolen it.

Jay kept talking, unaware of the devastation crawling across Sunghoon’s face, like a spider mapping out its web of a trap. “Then.” Jay cackled. “You literally flopped face-first onto your bed and said– hold on, I remember this exactly–” It seemed like talking about you energized him or woke him up, because he cleared his throat dramatically, trying to imitate Sunghoon’s voice again.

“Jay, I’m actually gonna marry her.’”

Sunghoon’s breath hitched. He had said that before, two years into the future, when he was drunk off two bottles of Original Soju as he was eating barbeque with a much more mature Jay and a burnt-out Jake. He had never brought up marriage before until that night, a few days after you guys moved into your apartment together.

But apparently, this version of him had said it too before any of that happened, even with only knowing your name and that you were Jake’s friend.

Was loving you inevitable in every universe?

Jay blinked suddenly, his teasing grin faltering slightly as he finally noticed how pale Sunghoon looked. “…Hoon?” Sunghoon looked away quickly, swallowing hard. “You okay?”

No. No, he really wasn’t.

Because Sunghoon’s entire world and entire universe was collapsing. His fate was twisting, and the red string that threaded it together was tangling within itself. Was the universe fucking with him now? After giving him so much hope with your presence in his life after losing you? What’s the point of him going back in time if not to reclaim his love story?

Because now, it felt like he was interrupting someone else’s.

“It’s snowing!”

Your voice was cheery, lilted so lightly that it instantly spread a feeling of warmth across Sunghoon’s body despite the cold air penetrating through his heavy puffer. You were both outside the library, about to trek to the convenience store when the sudden weather inclement put a hole through your plans. Delicate snowfall began raining upon the campus, fluttering down beautiful in a flashy array of flakes.

“It is,” he acknowledged, following after your hyper footsteps that began tracing a circle in the translucent sheet of snow that had already fallen onto the ground. You ran around, whooping and cheering as you basked in the icy sensation of snowflakes landing on your skin. Sunghoon could only watched, endeared by how excited and energized you suddenly were.

Suddenly, you ran up to him, burying your open fingers under his arms and around his waist. He laughed, caught off-guard by your abrupt hug, stumbling back a little. “What’s with you, hm?” He softly crooned, wiping your hair out of your face. You smiled up at him, eyes shining despite the overheard dark sky looming over you.

“It’s so pretty, Hoon! I didn’t think it’d snow this year!” You cheerfully exclaimed, eyes curling into crescents as your mouth parted with the sheer excitement coursing through your body. He pulled you in closer on instinct, and you let out a small “oomph!” from the impact of your bodies colliding into a tighter embrace.

“You know what they say, Hoon? If confess during the first snowfall, your love will last forever!” You spoke up. Your speech was murmured, but Sunghoon had heard every word perfectly.

“Yeah? Do you believe in that?” He looked at you fondly. You nodded.

“Sunghoon, I like you so much, let’s go out!”

His mouth fell agape as your confession rang through the snow air. You looked horrified immediately after, but Sunghoon had pulled you in impossibly closer, tight enough to where you almost couldn’t breathe. “Hoon,” you whimpered miserably, hiding your face inside your scarf. “This is so embarrassing…”

“You like me?” he breathed out incredulously before bursting out into laughter. Snowflakes landed in his dark hair as he laughed, falling off as quickly as they came from how hard his body was shaking.

“You’re so mean!” you accused.

“I’m not laughing at you,” he insisted between breaths.

“Then why are you laughing?!”

“You’re just so cute,” Sunghoon confessed, his voice so tender and blossoming with the unsurmountable affection he had for you. “I like you too,” he admitted softly, “ever since I saw you in the dining hall.”

You smiled, but when he blinked, suddenly he was in the middle of his apartment. The cold air dissipated, bringing in the warmth of the heater he left on in the living room. His arms were still wrapped around something, no, someone. No.

Nothing.

His hands clenched around empty air, and the snowfall transformed into the city lights outside of the apartment windows. Your scarf that was in between his fingertips disintegrated into the dust that he never cleaned. Your laughter was still ringing in his ears, so elated and bright and it was mingling with something so sharp jarring annoying–

His ringtone?

The sound grew louder and louder until it drowned out everything else, until your smiling face started blurring at the edges. You were still standing in front of him beneath the snow, cheeks dusted from the cold with flecks of flakes littering your face.

“Hoon?” you laughed softly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His phone kept vibrating.

“Hoon?”

The screen lit up across the dark apartment with an unknown number, and under the bold white digits in grey was the name of the university hospital. His breathing turned ragged instantly. His body moved before his brain could catch up, fumbling for the phone with trembling hands. But when he looked back up, you were still there. Snowflakes still landed in your hair. You were still smiling, cheeks puffed up and smile lines indenting your skin.

“I like you too,” he heard himself saying again, the memory replaying against his will. “Ever since I saw you in the dining hall.”

“Hoon?”

But this time your voice sounded farther away. His thumb shook over the accept button, and  when he pressed the green button, everything crashed together all at once, creating a collision in his mind. Your confession beneath the snowfall. Your wet toothbrush beside his in the apartment bathroom. Your warm hand in his while crossing the street. Your cold hand dangling under the white sheet in the morgue. Your voice whispering goodnight. The casket being lowered six feet deep in a hole that seemed too big for you.

Sunghoon doubled over violently, nearly dropping the phone as nausea twisted through him. It felt like someone had reached into his skull and ripped every memory apart before shoving them back in the wrong order. His head was pounding, throbbing violently as each memory churned in his head like butter. Then it curved into a dull ache, static on a television screen. 

“Is this Park Sunghoon?”

And just like that, the snow was gone, and the only cold he felt was the absence of your warm body.

“Sunghoon, you’ve been acting weird lately.”

“Oh, hm?”

Your face was suddenly in front of his, and you had a concerned pout on your lips. “You’ve been zoning out so much, it’s really worrying me… I know it’s just your personality, but you’ve been doing it so much…” You frowned, leaning forward, your shoulders hunching into your sides.

“I’m sorry– there’s– there’s just a lot going on…” He weakly replied. You let out a soft sigh.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? Me or Jake… I care for you a lot, you know. I hope you really know, Hoon…”

Sunghoon forced a tight-lipped smile and nodded. “I know,” he responded, his words sharper than intended. Your eyes were staring right into his, and before, Sunghoon would’ve felt the warmth. But now, all that he felt was the chills that Jay had instilled into his body. You stilled, before pulling away from the conversation, instead opting to grab your straw. Instinctively, he picked it up before you could, punching the plastic out of the wrapper and puncturing your drink for you.

“Oh, thanks Hoon. You really didn’t have to do that.” A sweet giggle escaped your lips, and the sound instantly grounded him.

“It’s not a big deal, let me do these things for you,” he easily said in response, the reply leaving his mouth naturally as it used to do.

“Sunghoon, do you act like this with everyone?” You suddenly asked. He looked at you, confused. “I mean– like, do you always act so sweetly towards everyone? Or is it just me…” you almost seemed embarrassed asking him this. 

“No, it’s just you?” He retorted, as if it was common sense that he would treat only you with the utmost care. Your face was warming up, and he could tell that you were flustered by his response.

“Really? So like, uhm, there’s no other girl that you’re, uhm… acting like this with, right?” Your voice was timid as you asked another question. Sunghoon scoffed, taken aback by how ridiculous your inquiry was. From the future and now in the past, you were the only girl for him, so why were you being so ridiculous now?

“Of course not,” he nearly snapped. He regretted it as soon as he saw your face falter and your posture shrink. No, what was he thinking? You didn’t know that. Of course you would ask. “I’m– I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me ba…” He trailed off as the nickname nearly slipped from his lips, so naturally that it was like calling you by your name. “Uhm, Y/N. I’m sorry. I think I’m just having a tough week. I promise you.”

You nodded, so patient as always, as you sipped on your drink. “It’s okay, Hoon. I hope things get better.” You smiled. He nodded, biting tentatively into the pastry. He didn’t like this cafe, and he knew that you didn’t like it either, but he didn’t want to ruin your first experience here. He half expected you to actually like the cafe if the past weeks were anything to go by, but he was pleasantly surprised when you instead scrunched your nose.

“This matcha is too milky…” You whispered. He smiled and nodded.

“Yeah? This pastry isn’t too good either. Wanna try?” He lifted up the dessert to your mouth, letting you take a bite right where he had previously taken one. You bit into it, lips curling into disgust.

“Should we just go and toss our stuff somewhere else? I don’t want to waste it, but it’s really not that good…” You whispered. Sunghoon laughed and nodded, holding out his hand. You hesitated, but took it, letting him lead you outside the cafe. You threw your drink and his pastry into the nearby trash can, just as you did before in Sunghoon’s original universe.

“Are you still thirsty? Should we get something from the convenience store instead?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No, I’m okay. Can we just walk a little?” You asked. Sunghoon nodded automatically.

You both began walking side-by-side down the sidewalk, your shoulders occasionally brushing together from how close you were. Autumn had left too soon, now bringing in the frigid weather of winter. The city was quiet, with everyone buried inside of their comforters during the early chilly morning. Some joggers and dog-walkers passed by, but it still only felt like you two were the only ones existing in that peaceful morning atmosphere. For a while, neither of you spoke. Sunghoon shoved a hand into the pocket of his coat while the other was still holding yours. He was trying not to stare at you again, but it was difficult when you were right there beside him, looking so soft beneath clouded skies.

“What I said back in the cafe… you’ve been treating me so differently,” you murmured suddenly. His stomach tightened.

“…Differently how?” He carefully asked back.

You slowed your pace slightly, looking down at the pavement. “I don’t know.” You laughed nervously. “You just… take care of me a lot. I remember when I first met you in Chem discussion, you were so shy. It was like you were scared of me. Then, you started crying in the library when you saw me… and now… it’s like you’re so much more mature than me… Does that make sense?”

“Is that bad?” he asked quietly.

“No– no, of course not. But, I don’t know Hoon. You stare at me… kinda weird,” the words carelessly slipped from your lips, and it was obvious with the way you let out a gasp and a flurry of apologies, before stumbling onto what you mean to say. “God, that’s not what I meant–! I meant… I don’t know. Like you take care of me so naturally, and you seem to already have a good sense of like–” you laughed nervously, rubbing at your face in embarrassment, “I don’t think you’re weird or anything, Hoon. I actually really like how caring you are.” Your voice softened at the end. “It’s just…” You slowed to a stop beneath the awning of a closed convenience store, your joined hands swinging slightly between your bodies.

Sunghoon turned toward you quietly, and you looked conflicted, with your mouth screwed and lips pressing up against each other so hard that the skin was jutting out uncomfortably. “Sometimes I think you’re so confident about knowing me that you forget there are still parts of me you don’t know yet? Is that too deep?” His chest tightened instantly, and he inhaled before he knew it, trying to regain the breath that you had just knocked out of him.

You kept talking before you lost the courage. “Like… you always know what I need before I say it. Like when I’m cold, when I’m tired, when I’m not feeling well…” You smiled faintly. “And it makes me really happy. It does.”

“But?” He pressed on, trying his best to hide his impatience.

“But sometimes it also feels like you’ve already decided who I am, in a way? Like, you seem to expect something differently than what I give you, Hoon. And sometimes…” you continued hesitantly, “I’ll say something that surprises you, and you get this look on your face like I said the wrong thing or something– and it’s kind of… okay, I’ll be honest, it’s kinda weird…” You laughed again, and the noise seemed like it was punched out of you like a soundboard.

“Like, you always try to guess what I like or what I don’t like or what I prefer– and at first I thought it was endearing, but it’s almost always wrong. And that’s fine, I guess. But sometimes you sound so confident that it’s– I dunno. That’s why I asked if there was another girl. Like, I don’t know, are you thinking of someone else?” You breathed out.

No, no, no, never. He always thought of you. He could never stop thinking about you. He inhaled and opened his mouth, wanting to defend himself, but you sputtered out something else so rushed like you were forcing it out of your throat, “I– I really want you to know me, Hoon.”

Sunghoon wanted to throw up. He had spent so much time trying to preserve the memory of the girl he lost that he had started overlooking the girl standing right in front of him. His skin was itching with the lovebugs crawling up it. He felt selfish. And suddenly, the image of him, nerdy and lanky and gushing to Jay with a flush on his pale cheeks struck his mind, hitting him bluntly on his noggin.

His fingers loosened around your hand before tightening again like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go completely. You looked nervous after your confession, eyes darting away from your intertwined hands immediately. “Sorry,” you laughed weakly. “That sounded way harsher than I meant it to.”

“No,” Sunghoon answered as soon as you stopped speaking, his voice coming out rough. “No, you’re right.” Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. He looked away before he could see your expression fully. “You’re right,” he repeated quieter this time. 

I really want you to know me. Not her. No. You? This version of you, the one standing beside him now. He looked at you, but was met with the sight of your side profile. The side profile that belonged to the same woman who he met at the dining hall, who moved in with him, who cooked him soup in the shared kitchen when he fell sick– memories hit him so violently he almost staggered, and he couldn’t tell where the lines were anymore.

Your favorite drink, your laugh, your habits. Were they yours? Hers? Was he loving you because you were you, or because he was desperately trying to keep the you that he remembered, alive?

Sunghoon felt sick. He felt saliva rapidly rise under the muscle of his tongue, and he kept swallowing and swallowing to keep it down. He felt like he was going to throw up.

“Hoon?” Your voice softened instantly at the sight of his face. Concern replaced your apprehension immediately. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” he muttered. You blinked. “You were honest.” He swallowed hard, nearly gasping for air as he opened his mouth to speak. “I think… I needed to hear it.” Your expression slowly softened, though puzzlement still lingered behind your eyes. Sunghoon stared down at the pavement.

For the first time since waking up two years in the past, his brain turned to mush, soft enough to let a thought penetrate his mind that he had been avoiding. Was loving you here ever supposed to be about getting his old life back with you? What was he here for? Images of him– not him, the him that you knew, came crawling back into his neurons.

Things wouldn’t have been like this if he had come. You and the right Sunghoon could’ve been where he was. The guilt began creeping down his throat and accumulating in his chest, weighing down his lungs with every shortened breath he took in.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure who he was apologizing to anymore. To you? To the girl he loved in the future? To himself? Or the other version of himself that he was living through?

You shifted slightly beside him, worry crossing your expression. “Hoon…? Sunghoon…?” You quietly spoke up, hesitant as your palm gently brought itself up to cup his cheek. He instinctively leaned into your warmth, but squirmed as his face rested in his palm. The ink of his guilt began to spread further as if his body was just dipped into water. He tightened his grip on your hand again on instinct, but it felt wrong, like was still trying to anchor himself into an ocean with waves that were too crashing upon each other.

“I didn’t…” his voice broke. “I didn’t mean to–” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. What was he trying to say? What was he even freaking out for, apologizing for? Because as much as he wracked his brain, he couldn’t grasp onto an answer still. For loving you wrong? For loving another version of you? For erasing you because you were right here, all alive and happy and oblivious? Sunghoon exhaled sharply, almost choking on it.

His hand finally loosened. “…I’m sorry,” he said again, but softer this time. You gently stroked his face with your thumb.

“Hoon, please don’t cry on me again.” You tried to lighten the mood. His eyes were shimmering with tears that built up in his ducts, but he simply shook his head, whispering out another apology.

“I’m not okay,” he admitted finally. You flinched, and the honesty honestly surprised him too, but you didn’t pull away. You just continued to comfort him, just as you always would. No. Sunghoon closed his eyes for a second. He shouldn’t think like this anymore. When he opened them again, he was looking at you. Just you, standing there, as you were.

“I think…” His voice cracked slightly, so he paused, forcing air back into his lungs. “I think I’ve been… confusing things.” Your expression softened, but you didn’t interrupt. “I thought I came back to something I lost,” he continued vaguely, “But I think I’ve just been standing in front of someone I never took the time to understand.”

His feelings felt like it finally had somewhere to go, not onto you, or even to him, but somewhere where Sunghoon couldn’t reach. It felt freeing, unraveling a tight knot of emotions that he didn’t have the energy to release before. Your hand lowered, as if drawn to pull off of his face. He let go of your other hand, finally loosening his grip.

“So then let me help you,” you whispered. His heart dropped. “Hoon…” Your voice trembled slightly now, heavy with the weight of the emotions pulsating between the both of you. “I know you’re confused right now, but I–"

He already knew what you were going to say, because you had the same hopeful look on your face that fateful winter night when you confessed under the snowfall. And before, selfishly, he would’ve let you. He would’ve let you pour out his feelings to him, accept them as easy as reciting ABC, and live without the burdens of the future weighing him down.

But this time, the words felt too important to take from you and from the other him that had been waiting for you.

“…Don’t,” he whispered. The hurt on your face was immediate, and he had to will himself to not take back his words. “No, no– not like that,” he corrected quickly, voice cracking. “I just… I don’t think I’m ready to hear it yet.” Snowy breath escaped your lips slowly into the cold air. “You deserve someone who can listen to you properly,” he said quietly. “Someone who can know you for who you are now. And I don’t think…” He inhaled shakily. “I don’t think I’ve been doing that.”

“Hoon…” You softly spoke up, but he interrupted you as soon as your mouth opened.

“I want to,” he admitted immediately. “I really do.” He wasn’t lying. Every part of him still wanted to hear you confess, to keep you close, to selfishly pretend like nothing was wrong. But loving you like this was beginning to feel cruel, so instead, he took a small step back.

“Will you…” He paused. “Will you meet me again another time?”

Your expression crumpled slightly in confusion. “When?” You whimpered. Sunghoon pondered for a moment, before he felt like he found the right answer.

“When I’m finally able to see only you.” He smiled. He had walked you back to your dorm, letting the silence loom over the both of you. He left you with an adjustment to your scarf and an endearing pat on your head.

That night, when he slept, he dreamt of your funeral.

The sky had been gray that day, with cumulonimbus clouds blocking any trace of sun. Just as your death had obstructed the access to the light of his life. People were crying around him. Jake had been sobbing openly beside Jay, shoulders shaking violently as he kept wiping at his face with trembling fingers, but Sunghoon remembered standing there completely still.

He hadn’t believed it yet.

Even as your framed photograph sat in front the altar. Even as your parents bowed their heads. Even as people whispered about how young you were. Even when he received consolations from everyone, telling him about how much you loved him. He remembered thinking absurdly as he stared at your altar.

How could you look so happy when his entire world had just ended?

The question echoed through the dream as Sunghoon stood frozen before your altar. Then slowly, memory after memory began surfacing around him. The first night you basked in your love after moving into your apartment, cuddling together so tightly that separating you guys would’ve been like pulling magnets apart. The night where you comforted him after his research symposium when he felt like he was the biggest failure in the world. The mundane moments where you laughed at him after burning rice and the soft moments where you whispered “I love you” so much that it was like you were reaching a quota.

The memories came so quickly that they stopped hurting individually. Instead, they melted together into something warm and alive. And suddenly, Sunghoon understood something he had been too devastated to realize before, that your death wasn’t the biggest thing about you. Your life was.

Not the funeral or grief, but just you as you were. The way you smiled, laughed, cried, and loved. The way you existed so brightly that even now, after death, you still filled every corner of him. Tears finally slipped down his face in the dream, but he wasn’t drowning in them anymore.

And standing there in the stuffy funeral home, Sunghoon quietly laughed to himself. “You’d be so mad that everyone’s crying this much,” he murmured. And he could hear the echoes of your voice scolding him for being so torn up when he should be moving onto better things because he was so young (just as you were.) The thought made him smile through his tears. Your memory no longer felt like a wound splitting open inside him. It felt like hands pressed gently around his heart. 

And when Sunghoon finally opened his eyes, he was no longer standing in the funeral home. He was home, in his apartment. Morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, warm gold spilling across hardwood floors and untouched, uncleaned furniture. The silence was familiar now. It wasn’t as sharp and reverberating against emptiness like it used to be, but quiet in the way winter mornings were quiet.

For a long moment, he just layed on the couch. The blanket you used to complain about because it “shed fuzz everywhere” was still draped over his body. One of your hair ties still sat around his wrist from weeks ago. The apartment still carried traces of you in every corner, soft remnants of a life that had once intertwined with his so naturally that even death couldn’t fully unravel it. Sunghoon slowly sat up after a while. For the first time since you died, the ache in his chest did not immediately make him want to chase after you. It only made him miss you.

A framed photo caught his eye from across the room. A snippet of a beach date where you both were smothered in sand and shattered seashells. He remembered that day now without feeling like his ribs were caving inward. He remembered it and smiled.

The sunlight continued pouring into the apartment little by little, warming spaces that had long felt frozen over. Sunghoon looked toward the empty side of the couch beside him. Then quietly, he whispered your name into the stillness, but for the first time, it wasn’t a plea to the Heavens. 

Winter took you from him, and Sunghoon spent the cold months treating his grief like something sacred, afraid that healing meant betraying you. But Spring came quietly, melting ice from sidewalks and blooming flowers through the cracks, and he finally learned that acceptance didn't mean loving you less.

You’ve been having strange dreams lately.

They felt so vivid, so clear to your vision that it felt like you could reach out and touch them. In these dreams, Jake’s cute nerdy friend, Sunghoon, was in them. He was in all of them, actually.

Visions of Sunghoon and you, on a date sipping on cola floats together. Visions of you both curled up in the library cubicle, giggling and sharing secrets instead of being productive. But oddly enough, he wasn’t wearing his thick-rimmed glasses and features grew into a more mature version, with a stronger jawline and deeper eyes. In these dreams, you could see the warmth in his eyes, hear the sounds of his soft laughter, and feel the intimacy of his affection.

Sometimes, the dreams were absurdly specific. Like mundane captures of you both arguing in the grocery store over what meat to buy, snapshots of an apartment you’ve never stepped foot in, and images that you don’t remember taking.  Sometimes, the dreams hurt. They echoed with the sound of anguished cries that made your chest ache when you woke up, made you feel empty like something was hollow from inside and like you were missing something that mattered so dearly yet you couldn’t remember. 

All he was to you was a boy in your Chem discussion and Jake’s close friend, so why did your dreams think differently, as if he was the most important person in your life?

You went to the library one night with Jake, and Sunghoon came later, only to end up crying as soon as he saw you. And for some reason, your heart signaled to your mind that, maybe he was, for some reason, because your chest began to ache with an odd sense of familiarity and endearance. So, it was only natural that you began to form a crush on him. But sometimes, your feelings felt deeper than just a mere crush, as if your feelings had roots that stretched somewhere your thoughts couldn’t reach.

You began hanging out with Sunghoon so much that you barely saw Jake anymore. Not that the Australian boy complained– after all, he was too busy trying to survive whatever war engineering majors had to go through that he didn’t even have time to hang anymore. But the more frequent your hangouts were, the more frequent the dreams were. You dreamt of tiny domestic things, like him stealing bites of your food and folding laundry terribly while you laughed at him. Falling asleep on his shoulder during movie nights. Listening to him hum quietly in the kitchen while making late-night ramen.

Eventually, you stopped trying to suppress what your heart already accepted. You liked him. (Maybe too much for someone you technically barely knew.)

So when the wintry season hit its peak, you saw Sunghoon again after texting him to meet you near the cafe where he initially rejected you. You both still hung out, but after that morning when you failed to confess properly, he seemed different. He looked lighter and full of life. Before, he seemed like a shell that was carrying an invisible burden that you couldn’t begin to understand. But now, he acted naively, as if there was nothing in the world that could dare drag him down.

“Hoon?” you called softly. He turned toward you immediately, expression warming the second he saw you approach. He smiled widely and adjusted his glasses. It was obvious he took some time to look good, with his hair styled up and his fashion seemingly taken from another closet. (Jay’s, you presumed. You heard his roommate had good fashion taste.)

“Hey, Y/N! Why did you want to meet me here?” He asked cheerfully.

You smiled as your fingers tightened around the straps of your bag before you finally blurted, “I’ve been having dreams about you.” His expression froze, and his eyebrows knitted together so adorably. You swallowed hard as you continued abruptly, realizing how bad that could’ve sounded. “Not wet dreams– shit, I mean, like– They’re weirdly specific. Like… really specific.” You laughed awkwardly. “Like dreams of us. Together. Dating…” You shyly trailed off.

Sunghoon stared at you silently, kindly waiting for you to finish as he listened intently.  “And sometimes,” your voice softened, “they’re sad.” Something flickered painfully across his face. You continued carefully, “In one of them, you were crying. Really badly.” Your chest tightened at the memory. “And I remember thinking that I wanted to comfort you more than anything, like that day you cried to me in the library…”

The breeze carried the scent of frost between you both. Sunghoon’s eyes began glossing over as he watched you, looking conflicted and a bit more confused. “I don’t really understand why this is happening.” You smiled faintly despite your nerves. “So…” You laughed softly.

“Maybe this is crazy, but I think I like you, Park Sunghoon. Do you want to go out with me?” You shyly asked. His mouth fell agape as his eyes widened.

“You– You like me? Like me, as in Park Sunghoon?” He sputtered out in disbelief, pointing a gloved hand at himself. You giggled and nodded.

“Yes, you idiot,” you laughed, cheeks warming from how genuinely stunned he looked. “How many Park Sunghoons do you think I know?” You teased, tilting your head to the right. His lips parted as stutters spilled from them unintentionally. And then, to your complete shock, his eyes immediately began watering.

“H-Hoon?” you gasped. “Oh my god, are you crying again?!”

“A– Again? When did I– snnfffh– When did I ever cry in front of you?” He choked out, sniffling away the snot that began to run down his philtrum, his voice cracking into two. He ripped his glasses off quickly, furiously wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. You burst into laughter at how offended he sounded despite the tears visibly collecting on his lashes. Sunghoon groaned softly under his breath, embarrassed, before hiding his face behind one hand.

“This is so humiliating,” he muttered miserably, “Yes– God, a million times yes– I want to go out with you. Please go out with me,” his voice curved into a plea. You giggled, slotting your body into his to form a warm lock of an embrace.

You looked up at him, and it began to snow.

[02zc0re]

rubbing my hands tgt like an evil fly with anticipation

[jungwonslover]

| 4POISON.1 ft. YJW

You return to Hogwarts expecting everything to feel the same — especially him. Yang Jungwon, your best friend of four years. Your constant. Until a love potion changes everything.

PAIRING: gryffindor!jungwon 𝓍 slytherin!femreader WORD COUNT: 20k+ — series ★⋆ CONTENT: fluff ⋆ angst ⋆ eventual smut hogwarts au, love potions, jealousy, yearninggggg, possessive!won. avoidant!reader, miscommunication.. a lot of it, plot twists, feat. beomgyu of txt, enhypen & my beautiful wife @hueningskais ⦸ alcohol, love potion drugging, masturbating (m).

| PLAYLIST | LIBRARY | PART 2

V𓄧 I did not want this to be two parts . .forgive me juseyo. the second part is coming shortly. i'll make it up to you. thank you soo much @hueningskais and miss anna for proof-reading and doing so much for me, i appreciate it so so much MWAH. thank you miss @heedimples too, your input was soo helpful my girl⋆

The castle was a home like no other. You had never felt so welcome in a place that belonged to all — portraits that often gossiped to you, halls that invited you to explore them, passages that opened in time of need. The castle was a friend you welcomed into your heart without protest.

You were not someone who let things in easily, never had. People came with expectations, questions, and noise you did not always have the energy to answer. Hogwarts came naturally to you it all settled around you so easily it stopped feeling new almost immediately. Portraits whispering like bored aunties with nothing better to do, staircases shifting as if they had moods, doors opening for you like they were in on something you were not. You let it all in.

You received your letter at eleven years old. Being a half-blood — it was simply standard procedure. You stayed on for university like a lot of people did, but unlike most of them it didn’t feel like a choice. It felt like returning to something that had already claimed you.

And somewhere in the middle of it, you met him. It was annoying at first because your life was perfectly fine. Up until then it was quiet, controlled with minimal emotional risk — exactly how you liked it.

You had known Yang Jungwon for four years now, but it had not always been that way. You met in your sixth year after being paired up by Professor Snape for a three day run on Felix Felicis.

Snape paired you together like it was funny, like he didn’t just throw a Slytherin who avoids eye contact like it’s a sport with a Gryffindor who… looks.

The moment your names were called you had looked across the room, already mildly irritated, to the black-haired Gryffindor — only to find he was already looking at you. You vaguely recognized him. He was someone you had passed in corridors, one of those people who existed in your peripheral vision. You two had never spoken as there had never been a reason to, until then.

His expression did this small thing — eyebrows lifting, like he expected literally anyone else. The moment your eyes met, he looked away, offering a small, tight-lipped smile. He looked a little nervous.

You weren't too bothered to be paired with him, he seemed to be a good enough partner — at least he wasn’t Seamus.. low bar, but still.

The seat beside you was already taken. So you gathered your things without hesitation and moved — sliding into the empty space next to him instead. As you settled into the seat you had looked over to your old table. You were only a seat behind — with a perfect view of your previous place.

"Y/n right?" His voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned slightly, catching the way his eyes couldn’t decide where to land, like looking at you directly might be too much. Flickering between you and the chalkboard at the front of the room. You almost smiled.. almost.

"Yeah," you answer, a little softer than intended. He nods, almost immediately, like that confirms something for him. Even though he already knew.

Yang Jungwon was popular, though not in the loud, attention-seeking way others were. Known as the composed, hard-working Gryffindor, he carried himself with a kind of steady confidence that people trusted. Down to earth, reliable, kind but not soft. Never someone you could easily push around. He had made that clear and yet sitting beside you now, with your attention fully on him, he felt something in that composure slip.

He had never been someone easily taken by others. He had never found himself captivated by someone’s presence, never caught himself returning to the same person in his thoughts without reason, until you.

The first time Jungwon had noticed you, he had been half-listening in Herbology. His attention slipping as the professor droned on about Venomous Tentacula. His gaze had wandered, unfocused — until it landed on you.

You were seated a row ahead. Not directly in front of him but just off to the side, angled enough that he could see the curve of your profile. Your head rested against your hand, posture relaxed in a way that suggested you were not entirely paying attention either. Looking like you could not care less about Venomous Tentacula trying to eat someone two tables over.

All he knew about you was your house, Slytherin. Obviously. He had his own assumptions about you, but not in the obvious way. Most people assume all Slytherins are calculated and cold. They decide before you even utter a word — that you are aloof and detached. It's not that you don't feel things — it's that you feel them too much and learned the hard way that not everyone deserves access to that.

But you didn't seem to care for what others thought. You let them have their assumptions about you.

The plant in front of you swirled around your fingers as though it had chosen you. You did not react nor did you pull away either. You just let it weave between your fingers. Watching like it was mildly interesting at best. It was subtle.

The kind of moment no one would notice unless they were already looking.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow with something alike to curiosity flickering across his expression. Before he realized it, his own lips mirrored yours without his knowledge. Afterwards, it became a habit.

Not an intentional one — he never sought you out but his attention found you anyway. His gaze would drift in the middle of lessons, between notes, during long stretches of nothing. It would settle on you without a second thought.

Often times, he didn’t even let himself think about it long enough to question it. It was easier to let it exist as it was — something small and unspoken. You existed in his subconscious.

Which is why, when he heard your name called alongside his — it didn’t feel real. You were not supposed to exist like this, not in front of him, not real in the way everything else was. Not close enough to talk to or look at properly.

"Jungwon?" you said his name like it wasn’t a big deal, like he wasn't suddenly aware of everything. The way you tilted your head, the almost-smile you gave him as if you were being polite, not trying too hard.

"Oh! yeah, that's me." he replied rather fast. Realization settling in that he had spent more time thinking about you as an idea rather than as a person.. and now you were both.

You nodded, turning back to your notes and pulling out the correct pages as Snape rambled about ingredients.

You fell into a comfortable rhythm. Passing ingredients without speaking, writing notes like you shared a brain cell for a few hours. You had found yourselves to be great partners. Often times passing things between you wordlessly or having the answers the other didn't have.

By the second day, conversation came easier. You talked about things that had nothing to do with potions, debated topics you didn’t need to care about...and agreed on almost all of it. Almost.

"You Gryffindors and your pride" you rolled your eyes in faux annoyance as he passed you a serrated knife, a quiet scoff leaving him in return.

"I do not have pride! Besides you lot are practically evil." he shot back, leaning slightly against the desk. You dropped your jaw, exaggerated and offended like he had just personally offended your entire bloodline.

"That is a serious accusation." you deadpan. The Murtlap tentacle squelched unpleasantly under the blade — you winced at the texture, just a little, trying not to let it show. He noticed.

"Your stereotyping wounds me." you added flatly, beginning to write notes into both your books without thinking.

"Yeah, that was bad rage-bait," He grinned sheepishly while waiting for the knife, "Besides," you said flatly, glancing up at him with deliberate intent, "do I look evil?" you teased.

Jungwon scoffed automatically, ignoring the way he couldn't look away, fingers fumbling as you handed him the blade, just slightly in a way he hoped you didn’t notice.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he adjusted his grip on the knife, "Completely. The devil in disguise." he responded as he added the cut up ingredients into the cauldron, focusing a little too hard on the task.

You laughed under your breath and smacked his arm, with no real force behind it. He laughed too but quieter.

From that day forward, you were rarely apart. It wasn’t something either of you planned, it just happened. One day turned into the next and suddenly it felt natural to look for him without thinking. The unregistered expectation of him beside you like he had always been there.

In the library, you would sit across from each other with books spread out between you, the intention to study long forgotten. He would kick your foot under the table just to get a reaction. Which, annoyingly — you let him.

Other times, he would be sprawled across your bed, entirely too comfortable in your space, half-listening as you rambled about assignments, deadlines, anything that crossed your mind.

You found yourself seeking him out without realizing it. Waiting for him and measuring parts of your day by whether or not he was there to share them.

Even on the days when everything felt slightly off, when something sat heavy in your chest or doubt crept in quietly — you found yourself at his door. Not to soothe you or to push your burdens on him, but to exist beside someone who didn’t need you to explain anything for it to feel easier. Because his presence made you feel better without trying.

You didn’t rely on people like that. Didn’t need people like that. Well, apparently you did.. at least when it came to him, which is… deeply inconvenient.

When you'd show up at his door, quieter than usual, a little distant, eyes not quite focused — he would let you in, something in his chest tightening at the sight of you like that. Because your upset, somehow always became his.

He wouldn't speak to you different nor did he make you speak, he would just sit besides you as you watched the life outside his window. You always said his view was better along with some bitter comment about Gryffindor privilege. He’d laugh every time, and just like that.. something would lift, just enough.

It scared him how easily you fit into his life. He found himself looking for you without meaning to, glancing toward the places you usually were, expecting to see you there like it was a given.

When he would find you, a grin would take over before he could stop it, because somehow — no matter how big the castle got, no matter how many people filled it, Jungwon always found you.

One time, he found you in your common room. He’d walked in with Ni-ki, half-listening to whatever he was saying. His attention had already started drifting, and then it landed on you.

You’d picked the far corner sofa — the one slightly too close to the fireplace, where it was warm enough to make people leave you alone after five minutes. You were curled into it, book open, fully committed to looking unapproachable. Which, ironically, had never worked on him

"Hey, miss," Jungwon greeted as he made his way over, dropping onto the sofa beside you without hesitation, close enough that your shoulders brushed.

You didn’t look up immediately. You let the page sit there for a second longer, like you were deeply invested in whatever paragraph you hadn’t actually been reading.

You shifted just enough to turn your knees toward him, the book still half open in your lap. "Hey, Won." you'd return lazily, not thinking about it. He did.

That was the first time you had called him that. He stiffened — just for a split second, as though he hadn’t just short-circuited internally over one syllable. You hadn't noticed because he had pulled his arm free between you and rested it along the back of the sofa, fingers brushing against your shoulder like it was nothing. Tracing small, idle patterns against your sleeve as his gaze dropped to the pages.

He also didn’t comment on the fact you hadn’t turned a page in five minutes.

Over time, you became familiar with his friends and him with yours. It just happened, the way everything else between you did. Conversations overlapped with introductions blurring into inside jokes. Before long, there wasn’t really a separation between your friends and his.

Your "friends" being Kenny, she was your best friend from day one, she was the type of friend that would go to war for you — loud where you weren’t, reactive where you were measured. The kind of person who would absolutely escalate a situation on your behalf without hesitation. If you felt something, she felt it louder.

And then there were Jungwon’s friends. Jake, a Ravenclaw Astronomy nerd. Somehow capable of making constellations sound like gossip. You didn’t understand half of what he said, but you listened anyway.

Ni-ki, a Slytherin Quidditch Seeker. Sharp and quick in a way that kept everyone on their toes.

And Heeseung, a Gryffindor Transfiguration major. Annoyingly perceptive, he always carried himself with an ease that made it seem like he understood more than he let on.

The two of you fell into an easy friendship with the group, however they did question your new found friendship. "You two look good together." Heeseung said casually, like he was commenting on the weather, tossing the words into the air without warning.

Jungwon choked — coughing as he turned too quickly, nearly twisting his neck to stare at him. "We're friends," Jungwon managed, the words coming out uneven, far less composed than he usually sounded.

A chorus of groans followed immediately. "Yeah, obviously," Ni-ki muttered. "Painfully obvious," Jake added under his breath. Jungwon frowned, defensive now. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Heeseung said easily, though the look he exchanged with the others said otherwise. They didn’t press it because, technically Jungwon was right.

You were just friends.

Then, quieter this time, "So," Heeseung started, leaning slightly forward, voice low enough that it didn’t carry beyond them, “What’s her friend’s name?”

Jungwon blinked, "…Kenny?" Heeseung hummed and Jake smirked faintly.

"So.. you don't like him?" Kenny’s voice came from somewhere behind you as she sprawled across her bed. She’d been watching you for months now, watching the way your friendship with Jungwon had unfolded and she wasn’t quite convinced there wasn’t any foul play going on between you.

"Kenn," you sighed, not even looking up from where you lay on your own bed, "How many times do I have to say it? He’s just a friend." She groaned and turned over to stare at you upside down. Her hair falling messily over the edge.

"Sure. Yeah." she muttered, entirely unconvinced. You rolled your eyes, used to this by now. "So what’s the pink-haired guy’s name?" she added, quieter this time.

You blinked. Then laughed loud, thanking her mentally for switching the topic as she grinned, unapologetic.

As your groups grew closer, so did Kenny and Heeseung who had fallen into something of their own. It hadn’t been sudden, by the time it became official, it felt almost expected. A year after you met Jungwon, they started dating. And somehow nothing really changed. Not in the ways that mattered, at least. Other than your teasing.

She once said "You know, I thought you and Jungwon would have gotten together before me and Hee— " she paused, catching your bewildered look.

"Jungwon?" you said suddenly feeling your oxygen supply run out, "Nah it's not like that." you said simply, even then she didn't press — only pressing her lips together in response.

At first people also thought your friendship with Jungwon was something else entirely, tossed out with knowing smiles and raised brows. "You two look really good together." And every time you both reacted the same way. With immediate denial, you'd dissolve into small shakes of your heads, overlapping explanations, a little too quick to correct them. It became routine.

Sometimes people didn’t ask you at all. They went to Kenny. "Is Jungwon actually taken?" someone had asked her once, leaning in like it was some kind of secret. She had only blinked at them, unimpressed. "Ask him yourself," she replied simply. She never clarified and never denied it either.

Jungwon got it too. Only he had no idea how to respond. Guys would approach him casual, like it meant nothing and he’d pause because he didn’t know how to answer. The obvious response was easy, "No, we’re just friends. Go for it."

But Jungwon didn't want to say that, nor did he enjoy the thought. Didn’t like the idea of someone else approaching you, talking to you like that, looking at you like that. So instead, he’d shut it down."We're friends." he’d say, not waiting for a follow-up, not giving them space to ask more. Not that they ever went through with it, because where you were, so was he.

Over time, the questions faded. People stopped asking and not because they stopped noticing but because they’d already decided. After all you'd been best friends for 4 years and you were together more often than not. And neither of you corrected them anymore.

You returned to Hogwarts after two years. This time as a University student or survivors, in a way. Those two years hadn’t been spent learning in classrooms or complaining about assignments. You had stayed —worked alongside the professors, helping keep the castle standing in the shadow of Lord Voldemort.

Even if no one had seen him. Even if he had vanished again like smoke slipping through fingers — the disappearances said enough.

Those two years had changed everything. Not loudly, not in ways anyone else could fully understand — but in the quiet, constant ways that mattered. You had learned each other in survival. It brought you all closer in ways no one else could comprehend. Every worry was shared, every fear met halfway. There was no space for pretending and no room for distance. The Room of Requirement became something more than just a hidden space. It became yours, it offered escape when the rest of the castle felt too exposed.

Jungwon knew where to find you, he always did. If you weren’t checking the protective shields or burying yourself in work no one else wanted to touch, you were there, trying to keep yourself busy, trying not to think and he never let you stay like that for long.

"Enough," he’d say, quieter than it sounded and you’d argue, of course. But he didn’t listen, he’d drag you back to his dorms if he had to, ignoring your protests until the exhaustion settled in properly. Watching over you after you'd finally given in. You always did.

Over the years, you had both grown into yourselves. It wasn’t something you noticed all at once it came in passing glances, in the way people started looking at you a little longer than before.

"Do I have something on my face?" you muttered to Kenny as you walked through the halls toward your dorms. Hogwarts University students no longer had to share quarters within their houses, they could room with whoever they like. Which is how you’d ended up at the very top of the university tower with Kenny.

She turned to you immediately, eyes narrowing as she scanned over your features — eyebrows knit in concentration. "Nope," she concluded after a moment, straightening. "You’re good."

You hummed, only half-convinced as you continued up the winding staircase beside her. You waved at a passing portrait that greeted you by name.

"—You’re just hot," she added casually. You scoffed turning to her, "Be serious."

"I am serious," she insisted, nudging your shoulder. "Did you not see the way Beomgyu was staring at you earlier?"

"Heeseung's friend? the Quidditch player?" you said as you turned your head slightly. Kenny groaned at your reaction. "Yes, that Beomgyu."

"He was totally eyeing you earlier." she winked as you reached the top floor. You hummed, any retort dying on your tongue when you saw that there were only two dorms on the top floor, most the other floors had 4 or more on each of them. You had no idea what you’d done to deserve that kind of luck but you weren’t about to question it.

Two doors stood opposite each other, a large curved window decorated the space at the end of the hallway, the light spilled through, inviting and warm. Making the space feel almost intimate.

You had both arrived early, eager to settle in — to decorate, to breathe in the castle before the chaos of the Sorting Ceremony began. As you neared the doors you heard voices from one, men specifically. You and Kenny slowed at the same time, sharing a look as if to say oh god. Kenny, unfortunately, looked far more interested than she should’ve been.

You, on the other hand? Already considering turning around and pretending you got the wrong floor. As if on cue the door swung open, a blonde haired boy walked out. You barely spared him a glance at first, too focused on reaching your own door until he made a noise.

"Y/n??" he gawked, you froze for a moment, then turned. "Jungwon?" you both spoke with raised voices. He laughed still a little startled but there was no hesitation in what he did next — he stepped forward and pulled you into a hug. It was immediate, familiar and not.

Because the second his arms wrapped around you, you noticed it. His arms felt, stronger.. broader. There was more of him than you remembered. His frame filled out, solid in a way that made your breath hitch just slightly.

Since when was he built like this? And then you breathed in. Bad idea.

He had always smelled good.. annoyingly so but now it was something warmer, deeper… addicting. As though someone had personally curated a scent just to mess with your composure.

"How did you guys know we're here?" he asked as he pulled back from you, still grinning. His hands lingering on your arms like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. You smiled automatically, your body was on autopilot while your brain was still catching up.

Your eyes instinctively scanning over him. You hadn't seen him in what felt like forever, your only form of communication had been letters, since you had been on holiday with Kenny for the summer. Letters didn’t prepare you for this version of him.

His hair caught your attention next. Once dark, now an ashy blonde that fell just enough into his eyes to make him blow it away every few seconds. It softened his features in a way that made him look different but still him. He caught you staring and smiled — smaller this time, almost shy. Like he knew and didn’t at the same time.

"We didn’t," you said, letting out a quiet laugh as you nodded toward the door behind him. "That’s our dorm." His smile only widened. Beside you, Kenny raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between the two of you, lingering on where his hands still rested against your arms. Clocked, immediately.

Before he could respond the other boys filtered out, coming to investigate the commotion — his hands left your arms almost reluctantly. "This year is going to be so good." Jake declared the moment he saw you both, his excitement immediate and infectious.

You huffed out a quiet laugh, leaning back slightly against the wall as the hallway filled with noise — overlapping voices, half-made plans, people talking over each other like they hadn’t just had an entire summer to do exactly that.

It was easy, like slipping back into something that already fits and yet — your eyes flicked back to Jungwon without meaning to. He was already looking at you. Of course he was. You looked away first, because you were not about to unpack that in a hallway at like… 10am. Still, your lips pressed together to hide a smile.

This year was definitely going to be something.

After greeting everyone you opted to decorate your room and unpack. Deciding unpacking was safer than socialising for more than ten minutes straight.

Barely 5 minutes had passed with your absence when you heard the door open. You were midway through murmuring an enchantment, flicking lazily as your clothes lifted from your suitcase and sorted themselves into your wardrobe.

You didn’t even need to turn to know who it was but you glanced over your shoulder anyway. Jungwon stood there, grinning like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

"Hey Won." you hummed, turning back like your heart didn’t just do something weird and unnecessary. Another flick of your wand sent books gliding into place on a shelf.

He stepped inside slowly, he noticed your posters already stuck around the walls — most of your possessions already found their home in your room. The fact that you’d basically moved in within five minutes because you hated living out of a suitcase.

"It feels like I haven't seen you in years." he said, stopping in front of you. You paused, setting your wand down before turning to face him properly. He was already looking at you. Not casually either — like he was actually looking, as though he was updating some kind of mental file on you. Or like he was taking note of everything he hadn’t been able to see through letters alone. Stop that.

Jungwon had always been like that though. Quiet about it, but present. He didn’t need a room full of people — just one. You.

He was the kind of friend who showed up without being asked, the second something felt off. The kind who would sit with you through your half-finished thoughts, letting you find your way to the point without rushing you there.

No pressure, no "Just say it already." Just there, annoyingly perfect. He knew he had a soft spot for you, you're his best friend. The one who challenged him without hesitation. The one who never raised her voice, even when hurt. The one he had missed more than he’d expected over the summer.

"I know," you said, a lazy smile pulling at your lips. "I missed you." you added. He tilted his head slightly, something softer settling into his expression.

"Come here." he murmured, it wasn’t really a request, he pulled you into him, arms wrapping around you before you could respond, and you melted into it almost instantly — a quiet, content sigh leaving you.

"I missed you too," he murmured into your hair. You hummed, your fingers drifted up to play with the soft blonde strands at the back of his head — like it was muscle memory.

He slid his hand from your back to your waist, his grip tightening around it. Just for a split second, but you felt it. He pulled back, and your arms fell away reluctantly as you stepped out of his space. He looked over you with narrowed eyes as though something wasn’t adding up.

"What are you looking at?" you teased stepping forward just to mess with him. Just enough to throw him off, he faltered before rolling his eyes in faux annoyance. You almost laughed.

"You look different." he spoke, not moving despite you being close enough you could see every detail on his sun lit face. The light spilled over half of his face, highlighting the soft curve of his lips as they parted in quiet amusement.

"Is that good or bad?" you questioned, he’d always thought you were beautiful but now there was something more. You were almost glowing — confidence and charisma, you’d grown into yourself in a way he hadn’t been there to see.

"Good," he said. "You look pretty—" he paused, then added quickly, "I mean, you’re always pretty." Right.

You turned your head, hiding the smile that tugged at your lips. You were not letting him see that.. he saw it anyway and exhaled through his nose at your reaction.

"Your hair…" you started, glancing back at him and looking over the strands falling over his forehead, the light catching in them.

"What about it?" he challenged.

"Suits you, it's pretty" you nodded. He gasped dramatically, falling back onto your bed. You laughed, shaking your head as you went back to finishing your room.

Conversation came easily after that. "Also, Kenn and I went clubbing, and I got so paranoid at one point because of this guy—" you started, pacing slightly as you spoke, wand flicking absentmindedly as objects whizzed past. Jungwon watched you.

"He was a muggle, I think… anyway, he kept trying to get between me and Kenny, and I got so pissed I could’ve hexed him—" you continued.

That was all Jungwon heard before he zoned out. Something tight had settled in his chest, something he didn’t want to name. "and then I went to get a drink and he just followed us—"

"Won?" He blinked, refocusing, still leaning back against your bed, propped up on his elbows. "Mm?" he hummed. "So he’s dead now, right?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, we killed him Dexter style." He huffed out a quiet laugh as the last of your belongings floated into place.

You heard a knock and a chestnut head peeked around the corner. "Heyy guys." Jake spoke with a goofy smile as he stepped into the room, "Hi Jake." you greeted, settling onto your bed beside Jungwon. "We’re all going to The Three Broomsticks, if you want to come," he said, his eyes flicking briefly to Jungwon — who was playing with the hem of your sleeve.

Since when does he do that. Jungwon glanced at you, he was surprised to see your eyes already on him. "Yeah I'm down." you said, dragging your attention back to Jake before your brain can start over analysing like it's paid to do so.

"Won?" you added, quieter now, turning back to him — searching, though you didn’t know for what. For the little time you'd been back in his presence, you had felt a shift — it was was barely noticeable, like the world had tilted slightly off its axis. It wasn't something you listened to, even as your brain screamed that things were different. Even as it grabbed you by the arms and shook you, you ignored it.

Throughout your friendship you hadn't dated. Not seriously. Not even accidentally. It’s not that you couldn’t, you just… didn’t care to. There had been moments — people who almost asked, words that almost formed but something always stopped them.

You hadn't seen Jungwon staring holes into their eyes, his fingers curling into his palms. One boy had spewed apologies as he scrambled off, leaving you with an eyebrow raised and a "That was weird."

"Yeah, let's go," he hopped up, extending his hand out for you and without thinking, you took it.

But he didn't let go. Instead, he guided you gently behind Jake, your hand still in his, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it’s nothing and it should have been, but something unfamiliar threaded through the familiarity. His hand in yours felt comfortable but now you were aware of it. Which is annoying because you were perfectly fine not being aware.

You also had never over-thought anything physical with him before, not that that's what you were doing…

Kenny looked between you both, her eyes immediately dropping to your hand in his loosely. Her smirk was instant, like she just unlocked a new form of entertainment.

"You okay?" Jungwon murmured, leaning down so his voice brushed against your ear. He pulled back, just enough to look at your lips as you talked.

"Mhm," you nodded quickly and then, you slipped your hand from his — stepping forward to urge the others along. You didn’t look back at him, didn’t see the way his hand lingered in the air for just a second longer than it should have.

Didn’t know if he noticed the way your fingers had twitched before you pulled away. Definitely didn't think about the fact that for the first time in four years — being around him doesn’t feel simple, and that might be a problem.

The air was crisp, fresh in a way that made everything feel lighter, clearer. The hills stretched endlessly in the distance, and the pristine lake sat below you as you walked along the bridge.

You slowed, falling a step behind the others without realizing it. Your gaze softened as you took it all in, a small smile settling on your lips at the quiet beauty of it. You breathed out, shoulders dropping a little.

Jungwon looked around mid-conversation, half-listening to Jake ramble about something irrelevant, and when you weren’t there, something in his chest did this annoying tight thing. Like when you forget something but don’t know what.

Until he turned and there you were, a few steps behind, walking like the world had paused just for you. It was the same thing that had caught his attention the very first time. He hated how that got him, as though every time was the first time.

He slowed without thinking, letting the others move ahead as he fell back into step beside you. He didn't speak — his arm brushing lightly against yours as he followed your gaze out toward the horizon.

The Three Broomsticks had a comfortable amount of people wandering in and out, it smelt faintly of butter-beer and a woodsy scent you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Your group took to the corner booth as usual, you sat besides Jungwon at the end of the booth and ordered a butter-beer as you all settled into chatter and laughs sipping your beers. As your cup emptied, you leaned back with a quiet sigh, the warmth of it settling heavily in your chest.

You slumped sideways until your weight rested against Jungwon’s shoulder. His shoulder shifted just slightly to fit you better, like it was muscle memory. His voice kept going, talking to the others, but softer now, closer. He smiled small, fond but you didn’t see. You felt the faint vibration of his voice and his hand settle on the small of your back against the seat.

"Sleepy?" he asked, brushing against your hair. "Mm, no," you mumbled, lifting your cup slightly before setting it down with a quiet clink. "Just recovering from this, it was so filling." You pushed yourself upright, pulling away from his shoulder — acting like your heart didn’t just do a weird little thing.

But his hand didn’t move. He just hummed, fingers moving in slow circles like it was the most normal thing in the world, and the annoying part? It was normal, it’s always been normal.

The front door swung open, the bell chiming lightly as a group of Quidditch players walked in, their voices loud and easy, already caught up in talk of the upcoming season. Many of them were back with hopes of becoming successful professional players.

That included Choi Beomgyu. Heeseung and Ni-ki were up instantly to greet the Chaser, shoulders knocking together in greeting. As their chatters died down he was pulled into your table and then into the seat beside you.

"Hey Y/n." he sent you a lazy smirk as he settled into the seat "Hey." you returned with a slight tilt to your head. You’d always known him — never closely, but enough. Passing smiles, casual greetings. You'd often see him around since he was also a Slytherin — he always sent you a boyish smile if he saw you sat in the Quidditch stands.

His eyes flit from yours to your lips and then over the rest of you. You noticed that too. "How was your summer?" he asked after taking a long sip of his butter-beer. "It was great, How was yours?" As he spoke, you felt it.

Jungwon's hand had stopped its lazy motions and now rested fully against your lower back, fingers spread like he’s anchoring you there without making a show of it. Your eyes flickered to him for just a second. He was leaning closer now.

"Hey, you guys wanna get going?" Jake called, breaking the moment. Voices overlapped in agreement, chairs scraping as everyone stood. Heeseung invited Beomgyu along without hesitation. Jungwon said nothing.

He bumped against you as you walked, your friends gathered ahead of you as the path stretched back toward the castle. Beomgyu glanced back once, eyes flicking between the two of you. Taking in the space, the distance, the way it didn’t quite feel like distance at all.

Jungwon looked to you and while you took in the world, he took you in.

"I’m doing the re-run on potions tomorrow," you groaned, dragging your attention back to him. He barked out a quiet laugh. "Me too."

"Snape?" he added — amused. "Hey! Snape loves me." you laughed swatting at his arm. "Of course he does!" He teased, "his bias towards you Slytherins is too obvious."

"Whatever." you rolled your eyes, yelping as he poked your sides. "I really missed this," he spoke low.

"I missed this too." you responded easily, he smiled flashing his dimples and for a moment, you just looked at him — really looked. Eyes catching on the curves of his cheeks and the flicker of mischief in his eyes. He seemed to have to same idea, looking over the details on your face. Pupils dragging side to side, you both looked away after a moment without a word.

As you reached the dorms your friends all turned, stopping you in your tracks "Thoughts on going to the lake, we have time to kill before the sorting ceremony?" Heeseung suggested, glancing between you all.

"…Yeah, okay," you nodded with the others, like you weren’t internally negotiating with yourself. Everyone else agreed easily, except Beomgyu who waved it off with something about joining later. You all filtered into your rooms.

You pulled out a bikini you’d bought over the summer, layering it with loose joggers and a top. Low effort, high reward. Soon enough, you were all heading down together arms full of towels and drinks, laughter echoing through the halls.

"Give that here." Jungwon’s voice came from behind you as he took the bag from your shoulder, without waiting for permission. He looked almost offended that you’d been carrying it yourself.

"Thanks, Won," you said glancing back and sending him a smile. You didn’t see Jake’s smirk. Kenny, however, absolutely did. "You’re getting boyfriend privileges," she sang under her breath.

You rolled your eyes, "He’d do that for anyone." Even as you said it, something in your brain went …would he though? She only groaned, unconvinced.

The Great Lake stretched endlessly before you, framed by rolling hills that dipped into the distance. It had been a while since you'd been here, not by choice. Between N.E.W.T.s and those two years confined to the castle, moments like this had been rare — almost unfamiliar.

But now the air was light, warm — the sun was out. It hung high above you as you laid out blankets, dropping your things with a satisfied sigh before standing over one of them — kicking off your joggers, pulling your top over your head.

You stretched, rolling your shoulders, fingers combing through your hair — completely unaware of anything beyond the sun on your skin.

Jungwon had been standing near the water, looking out across the lake and zoning out like he does when he’s thinking too much. Until he turned and saw you. He just, stopped.

His gaze locked without meaning to and dragged, slowly, over you as you moved — unthinking, unguarded. He didn’t even notice Jake walking up behind him. He followed his line of sight and smirked.

"She looks good, hm?" Jake murmured clapping a hand on Jungwon's shoulder, "Shit— don’t do that," Jungwon exhaled, his body jolting slightly, a faint flush crept up his neck.

Jungwon turned back toward the lake quickly, "She always looks good," he said, too fast, too dismissive like he needed to neutralise it. "Just friends?" Jake asked incredulously. "Yeah."

"So you wouldn’t care if I tried something with her?" That did it. Jungwon turned fully, deadpan. The look he gave Jake was enough. Jake laughed, clapping his shoulder. "Thought so. What are you waiting for?"

"I’m not— that’s not—" Jungwon cut himself off, jaw tightening. "We’re friends, Jake." he finalised. He opened his mouth and then stopped when he saw you walking towards them.

You weren’t paying attention to any of that, obviously. You were looking at the water, already halfway mentally in it, and you reached out, fingers wrapping lightly around his wrist, then slid down intertwining with his fingers like it was muscle memory.

His breath caught for a second, before he tightened his grip, grounding himself in it. You stepped into the water first, testing it with your toe before wading in fully. When you deemed it safe you stepped in completely. Then you turned back to him, smiling. He followed without hesitation.

Jake watched for a moment, turning around with a shake to his head "Idiots."

"Ah— fuck," Jungwon muttered as the water climbed higher, soaking through his clothes. You laughed, pulling him further in until the water reached your waist, he wrapped his other hand in yours.

The breeze danced through your hair, sunlight catching on the ripples around you as you tilted your head back slightly, eyes closing for just a second. The water was warm and inviting, the blonde in front of you inched closer. Without thinking his hand slipped from yours only to rise to your face. Your brain went very quiet. Which was rare, concerning, even.

He brushed a stray piece of hair away but his fingers lingered at your jaw. Careful, like he didn’t quite trust himself. Your lips quirked at his touch, then he dropped his hand and a drop of rain hit your shoulder. Another followed.

"Do you wanna go back inside?" he asked. You shook your head immediately, a grin spread across your face and before you could act normal about it you stepped back and splashed him square in the chest.

He gasped dramatically standing there for moment in shock. "Oh.. you’re dead." you barely had time to laugh before he lunged forward, sending water crashing back toward you, enough to make you shriek.

"Jungwon!—" you huffed, you stumbled backwards through the lake while your hands flew up too late to defend yourself. "You started it!" he shouted back, his laugh cracked loudly across the lake, messy and breathless and so stupidly pretty it made your chest hurt a little.

The others sat near the shore watching like this was the most entertaining thing they’d seen all week. Which, to be fair, Hogwarts was basically just academic trauma and near death experiences, so your standards for fun got weird here.

Both of you were soaked within seconds. The rain picked up, steady now — but the sun hadn’t disappeared, casting everything in a strange, golden haze, like a memory while it was still happening.

By now all of you were completely drenched, you waded through the water to the shore and grabbed your wand — relief settling in as you saw your belongings still dry beneath the shield you’d cast earlier.

You flicked your wand, casting a shield overhead to block the rain like a makeshift umbrella. The others immediately crowded underneath it with grateful groans, wrapping towels around themselves, you opted to do the same but Jungwon had beat you to it.

He picked it up and wrapped it around your shoulders rubbing against your arms. Your breath caught slightly and only then did you notice how his black shirt clung to him, soaked through — defining the lines of his arms, his shoulders, the shape of him in a way you hadn’t seen before.

You looked away, back to his face. This was safer.. right. Not really, because he was staring at you with this soft concentration that somehow felt worse. He was entirely too focused on drying your arms, still rubbing. You shivered, exaggerating it just slightly with teeth chattering sounds as you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around him.

"So dramatic," he snorted, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he held you closer — his hands moving up and down your back, warming you through the fabric.

"Wait— I’m an idiot," you laughed after a few moments, suddenly pulling back. He blinked. "That’s not new—"

You ignored him and grabbed your wand, flicking it with practised ease. A warm gust of air spilled out, surrounding you instantly. Everyone huddled around you like a pack of penguins, they all groaned in relief.

"Thank fuck for you" Jake sighed as he leaned against you without thinking. The flicker in Jungwon's expression was brief but it was there.

After a hot shower you changed into your new robes, which were a lot more flattering than the school attire. Still house colours, still mildly humiliating, but at least you only had to wear them in classes.

You made your way down to the Great Hall with your friends, the familiar hum of voices growing louder with every step. As usual, you all split at the entrance — murmured "See you laters." and fleeting touches before heading toward your respective house tables. Jungwon gave you his signature smile, his hand brushing over your shoulder in passing. Then he was gone, slipping toward Gryffindor's table.

Kenny slid in beside you as Ni-ki took the seat across, already reaching for something on the table. A moment later, another presence settled at your side, Beomgyu.

"Hey," he greeted, offering you a soft, easy smile. "Hey," you returned, turning toward him.

He asked about the lake, about the afternoon, interested in a way that didn’t feel forced. You didn’t notice the way Jungwon’s eyes had already found you across the hall or see his gaze narrowed slightly, settling on the back of Beomgyu’s head. Lingering there, unmoving, even as the Sorting Ceremony began.

The first student was sorted into Slytherin. Which had you turning to stick your tongue out to Jungwon — how you usually would. Only he was already looking, his expression softened the second your eyes met, a small smile tugging at his lips. You faltered for a moment and then he threw you an eye-roll at the announcement.

Beomgyu had watched the exchange, curious. He leaned in close to your ear, "Are you and Jungwon dating?" he whispered. The question hit differently this time, it felt louder, like a ringing in your ear. You felt as though you'd been snapped out a daydream.

No, Jungwon isn't your boyfriend, it had never been discussed between you. Never defined but then your brain, traitor that it is, starts listing things.

You didn’t let anyone act the way he did with you. No one else held you like that. Looked at you like that or knew you the way he did and yet that didn't change the fact that, the label had never wavered.

Four years. No confusion. No weirdness. No “What are we?” conversations at 2am like some tragic situationship. Just… him and you.

Which, logically, should’ve been comforting but lately it felt like wearing something that used to fit perfectly and now it sat just slightly wrong — not enough to throw it away, but enough that you couldn’t stop noticing it.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe you were overthinking like a normal person who refuses to be embarrassing out loud. And you weren’t about to be the girl who ruined a perfectly good thing because she couldn’t keep her thoughts in check.

"No," you said finally, shaking your head. "We’re just friends."

Beomgyu’s grin widened slightly. "Okay." he replied, leaning back in his seat.

Jungwon had of course seen your exchange. Not the words but enough. His jaw was tight, teeth grinding faintly as his gaze flicked between you and Beomgyu, something restless settling beneath his skin.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. By the end, you were full, tired, and mildly overwhelmed by your own thoughts, which was honestly rude. You all trudged back to your dorms with light chatters. At the doors you said your goodnights and split off again.

Sleep came easily. It always did when your brain decided to emotionally clock out instead of process anything.

The morning came quietly. Soft light filtered through the windows as you got ready, rubbing at your eyes and stifling yawns as you moved through your routine. Half on autopilot, hair, robes, minimal effort because you refuse to be perceived this early in the morning.

By the time you made your way down to the Great Hall with Kenny, the familiar buzz of voices had already settled in.

You slid into your usual place, picking at fruit and sipping your tea as conversation drifted lazily between your friends. Jungwon sat across from you at some point, without asking, he reached over taking your cup and bringing it to his lips.

He hummed satisfied, before setting it back down in front of you like it was his to begin with. You stare at him for a second. Right. We’re doing that now.. You nudge his foot under the table anyway, because apparently you love enabling it.

Beomgyu slid in besides you, all easy smiles and bumps your shoulder “Morning.”

"Morning." you replied. "We should get going." Jungwon said suddenly, his tone firmer than necessary.

"Yeah, lets go." you agreed, already standing. "See you guys later."

Kenny gave you a pointed look, knowing, you ignored it. Jake didn’t miss the shift either, his eyebrow lifted slightly as his gaze flicked toward Jungwon.

The classroom felt the same as you settled into your seat beside Jungwon, a strange sense of deja vu washed over you. You turned your head slightly, studying him. He was already looking at you, his head tilted in recognition, almost curious.

"Deja vu." you whispered, he nodded, lips catching briefly between his teeth, like he felt it too.

"Hogwarts University students," Snape’s voice cut cleanly through the room, "you are here for a two-week re-run course on unnecessary, ineffective, or unneeded potions." His chalk scratched sharply against the board as he listed them.

"Babbling beverages. Stupid potions. Confusing concoctions." A pause. "And Amortentia. An arguably unneeded and unethical love potion."

Beneath the title, bold and unmistakable, he wrote,

"NOTE THAT AMORTENTIA DOES NOT CREATE TRUE LOVE BUT A TEMPORARY OBSESSION."

Your eyes lingered on it. Temporary, right. The first class was simple, babbling beverages and unsurprisingly, you were paired with Jungwon.

You fell into your usual rhythm of cutting the ingredients and writing in turns as though no time had passed at all. You stewed the Alihosty leaves first and added the Billywig stings as Jungwon stirred counter-clockwise, then went in the bile and leech-juice.

You potted the light brown substance into a vial and handed it to Jungwon so he could cork it properly. Snape sauntered over past each station with sharp disinterest. Sniffing and prodding at the goop in each pot. He sent some glares with flares to his nose until he reached yours.

"This is.. sufficient." he spoke looking between you both, "Thanks sir." you both hummed in return.

"Think that's the nicest he's ever been to me." Jungwon murmured in your ear as Snape retreated to the front desk. That earned him a laugh.

The next classes blurred together in similar patterns. You went through the same motions except Beomgyu lingered more and talked more, finding reasons to be near your group. You didn't mind, he was easy to talk to.

But Jungwon was becoming almost restless, he lingered more. Looked at you like he wanted to say something like the words were right there but he just… didn’t.

By the time you made it to the Quidditch stands, the air had turned crisp. You sat with your friends, eyes following the players as they darted across the sky. Jungwon besides you as usual. It was Slytherin vs Ravenclaw, which meant Ni-ki and Beomgyu were playing.

Beomgyu slowed mid-air as he passed your section, hovering just long enough to wave but then he waved again. Smaller, directed at you. You smiled back automatically because… you’re not rude and also because it would be weird not to. Social norms are exhausting.

You didn’t notice Jungwon’s quiet huff, didn’t feel his gaze settle heavier on you. You sniffed a little at the cold before turning to him. "What?" you asked with amusement tinged in your voice. He didn't falter, if anything his lips curved just a little more.

"Nothing," he said. "You cold?" You nodded, about to say you’re fine but before you could do anything about it, he was already pulling you closer.

Your side pressed against his, your hand lifted and placed in his lap, his fingers threading through yours like it was instinct. Oh okay.

He rubbed slow circles into your skin, then lifted your hand slightly, bringing it closer to his lips blowing warm air against your fingers. His eyes never left yours. You bit the inside of your lip without realizing, holding something back — something you couldn’t quite name.

His gaze dropped to your lips and stayed, for a second too long. Then he tore it away, lowering your hand back to his lap — but not letting go. By now you were mentally somewhere else entirely.

Above you, the game continued. People were yelling, Jake was probably commentating like he’s being paid for it, Ni-ki was doing something illegal on a broom but neither of you were really watching anymore.

At some point Beomgyu circled back around and this time — he noticed. The way you were pressed into Jungwon’s side. The way your hand rested, laced with his, something in his expression shifted.

His jaw tightened slightly, eyes narrowing as he flew past. You didn’t notice but Jungwon did and for a brief second, his lips quirked up.

The fourth and last class was on Amortentia, the strongest and deadliest love potion. As Snape had so bluntly put it, the most unethical and you're just.. casually brewing it on a random Tuesday.

You stood at your usual station with Jungwon sleeves pushed up, already moving before you even think about it.

You started by heating the water, steam curled softly into the air as the scent of something faintly sweet lingered beneath it. Jungwon added the bruised peppermint flower heads and you added the peppermint leaves. The two of you moved in quiet sync.

"Apparently it smells different for everyone," you murmured, glancing over your shoulder briefly. Like you’re not even slightly curious what his would be.

He hummed in response, tipping the crushed moonstone into the cauldron as you stirred anti-clockwise, adding the rose thorns with careful hands. The potion shimmered faintly, suspiciously pretty and definitely illegal in at least five countries.

From then it was a waiting game, he placed the cauldron in a dimly lit closet as instructed. Snape’s voice cut through the room once more. "You’ll return later," he said. "Let it settle."

You pack up your things, already halfway out the room, when you heard her.

"Jungwon," Penelope Clearwater’s voice slid in, sweet but sharp around the edges. She talked of him helping her in potions. You didn’t need to hear the rest, you already knew.

And then you decided… yeah, no. You were not doing this today, so you didn’t wait, didn’t interrupt. You just left. It wasn't dramatic — it was just easier.

Because she has this way of talking that makes you feel like background noise and you don’t do that. Not for anyone, but Jungwon had noticed too late. He was already suppressing a sigh as Penelope spoke, his patience thinning. "Can you just ask Snape?" he said flatly. "Or your partner."

"Seamus?" she scoffed. "That bloody idiot couldn’t tell a moonstone from a bezoar." she huffed in annoyance. Jungwon barely heard her, he was already looking around for you but you weren’t there.

"I’ve got to go,” he cut in, not waiting for a response. "I hope you find the help you need."

You hadn’t meant to go anywhere in particular. Your feet carried you toward the dorms out of habit, your mind quieter than it should have been until you heard a noise, low and grinding almost — like bricks moving.

You paused and stepped back and there it was. The Room of Requirement. Waiting for you, you exhaled slowly before stepping inside.

Bookshelves lined every wall, filled to the brim. A fireplace crackled softly along one side, casting a golden glow across the room as though the room was actively telling you to relax. In the far corner was a nook, carved into the wall like it had always been there. Soft blankets, scattered pillows, a large window framing the view beyond — rolling hills, the lake stretching endlessly beneath the sky.

You walk over, running your fingers along the spines of books until one caught your attention — Extinct Creatures. Good enough. You then kicked off your shoes and climbed into the nook, the cushions sank beneath you, welcoming, familiar.

You barely made it a few pages in before your eyes began to drift. Your breathing slowed.

Jungwon had walked back into the classroom in search of you, and then he tried the dorms. As he went back to the stairs, he saw it, the outline of a door that hadn’t been there before.

He stood directly in front of it and closed his eyes thinking you. The next moment he opened them the door had changed — larger now, curved, silver handles gleaming softly under the light. He didn’t hesitate. His eyes moved quickly, scanning the bookshelves, the fireplace and then you.

Curled with your knees against the window, your head against a fluffed pillow. As he walked closer he felt relief wash over him — your chest moved up and down gently as you breathed deeply in sleep. He couldn’t help it. The way his eyes moved over you as he climbed into the nook beside you — careful, deliberate, like even the smallest movement might wake you.

Not touching you, not until you stirred and turned. A soft sound left you, something content — unaware as your head found his chest. Your hand rested against his hip like it had always belonged there. Jungwon’s breath hitched, uneven now — completely out of sync with your slow, steady breaths.

He froze completely. Unsure where to put his hands, what to do, how to exist without disturbing you. One arm was trapped beneath you, already beginning to go numb. The other hovered awkwardly at his side.

Then you moved again, your leg slid over him, settling across his lap as you buried your face into his neck, exhaling softly against his skin. He sucked in a quiet breath, sharp and careful like even breathing too loud might ruin this.

He shifted slightly, freeing the arm pinned beneath you and finally he hesitantly wrapped it around your back, holding you.

You mumbled something incoherent, your voice warm and drowsy against his neck, and he let his head fall back slightly trying, desperately to relax into it.

Trying not to think and trying not to feel everything all at once. He didn’t know how long passed, minutes maybe more until you stirred again. You groaned quiet against him as you shifted, pressing closer without meaning to.

Your eyes didn't even open yet but your brain caught up real fast. You don’t panic, you're not someone who panics, you process and pretend you meant to do this. Fuck.

"Jungwon?" you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. "Hm?" he replied softly, forcing a lazy smile into his tone. "Morning."

You shifted again, this time pushing yourself up just enough to swing your leg fully over him, settling on top of him without hesitation. Chest to chest. Your head dropped back into the crook of his neck like it was instinct.

His jaw clenched, a quiet, strangled sound left him as though you'd wounded him. You lifted your head slightly, brows knitting. "You okay?"

His cheeks were flushed now, his breathing uneven and shallow. You didn’t understand. Couldn’t. Your hand came up, cupping his cheek gently, your thumb brushing against warm skin. "You’re so hot," you murmured, frowning slightly as if trying to figure it out. Then you shifted again and he exhaled sharply.

"Don’t— move," he said quickly, his hands gripping your thighs — firm, grounding, tense. You blinked at him, slowly.

He forced himself to breathe through it, his hands sliding slightly higher before stilling again, like he didn’t trust himself to move any further. Before you can even decide how to recover your dignity, the door creaked open.

Kenny stepped in and froze. Her eyes landed on you and then on him, then back again. Her jaw dropped — slowly giving way to a smirk. "Oh?" she said, dragging the word out. You stilled as heat creeping up your neck.

"What are you guys doing?" she asked, her gaze flicking over Jungwon’s dishevelled state with barely concealed amusement. You sit up like this is completely normal behaviour.

"We’re actually about to check on our Amortentia," you replied and you slide off him like nothing happened.. because nothing happened.

Completely unaware of the situation you’d just left him in. Jungwon sat up behind you, hunched slightly, hands braced at his sides. His shoulders tense, like he’s trying to reboot his entire system.

Kenny hummed, clearly entertained. "Right," she said, already turning. "Have fun with that." Something about a date followed as she disappeared through the door, laughter lingering behind her. "Won, are you good?" you tilted your head. He nodded quickly, a tight-lipped smile pulling at his mouth.

"Yeah— I’ll meet you there," he said, voice just slightly off. You don’t question it. You should but you don’t. "Don’t take too long," you added lightly, offering a small wave as you stepped out. The second you left Jungwon had sighed, loud and harsh — almost frustrated. He checked the corridor, making sure you were gone, before heading straight for his room.

He locked the door and stripped himself of his clothes — which were uncomfortably sticking to him.

He had successfully hidden his raging boner from you b ut he couldn't find it in himself to enjoy it — he groaned as he looked down at the reddened angry tip of his length which was refusing to go down. He turned on the shower and stepped in. The water ran cold, biting against his skin as he stepped under it, bracing his hands against the glass. His head dropped forward.

"Fuck…" he muttered under his breath, voice low and strained. His lip caught in his teeth as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his mind wandered to your chest flush against his.

Everything about that moment replayed too vividly. He pumped his hand up and down, slowly — a groan caught in his throat. His eyes were knit shut, the image of your body on his urged him to fasten his hand. You looked so fucking pretty on top of him — his teeth bit down harder.

He turned so his head was now leaning back, pressing his weight against the glass. He released his lip as his hand sped up — small fast breaths echoing through the room.

One image in particular was stamped in his head, his hands gripping your thighs like they were his to claim. The way your skin felt on his, the warmth of your touch — your breath against his neck. His hips stuttered as the coil snapped, his jaw slacked with shaky breaths as his high took over, ropes of his cum leaking out onto his hand and stomach.

He breathed heavily trying to catch his breath, he felt guilt flood his mind. He had thoughts of you before — thoughts of how you'd sound, how you'd taste, but he had never let himself do this. That restraint he had before had snapped in one moment.

His breathed in harsh again, sharper this time, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He stayed there longer than he needed to. By the time he walked back into the classroom, his hair was still damp, water clinging to the ends as it curled slightly at his neck.

You stood at your stand, writing in the notes you hadn't done earlier when Jungwon walked in. He kept his eyes anywhere but you at first.

"Hey," he said, stepping up beside you, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to look casual. "Hey," you replied lightly. "Good shower?" you asked with your eyes still on the pages in front of you.

He froze for half a second, too quick for you to notice. His eyes flicked to you — searching your face for something, any sign that you knew, "Er— yeah," he said, forcing a small, sheepish grin. "Woke me up."

You hummed in response, like that made sense. Still focused on your notes, Snape swept back into the room — robes trailing behind him. "Go get your cauldrons" he drawled as he wiped the chalk board.

Jungwon moved instantly like he needed something to do and grabbed the cauldron from the shelves — setting it down with a thud.

You removed the lid and sighed in relief at the pearlescent liquid staring back at you. The potion had settled perfectly. Pearlescent and smooth, it shimmered with soft spirals of steam curling into the air like something almost alive.

Jungwon leaned over the cauldron and took in the scent, his head tilted for a second, "Vanilla musk…" he murmured, almost to himself. He paused and breathed in deeper, "Star jasmine… and…" his voice softened, quieter now, "fresh parchment." he finished, it was almost enchanting, he found his eyes fluttering shut, to completely seal himself into the confinement of the aroma.

When he opened them again, they found you. Then the potion, then you again.

"That smells so, so good." he exhaled, tipping his head back slightly. He watched you for a second as you stood in front of him towards the cauldron, without thinking he stepped closer. Resting his chin lightly against your shoulder. Your hair brushed against his face, soft familiar.. and there it was again.

The same aroma from the cauldron hit his nose, subtle and alluring but unmistakable. His breath catching as he leaned just slightly further in, his nose brushing the side of your neck. You felt it more than you saw it, the slight pause in his breathing. The way he didn’t pull back straight away.

"That tickles— what are you doing?" you laughed turning toward him but before your brain could overanalyse it into oblivion, he had jerked back.

"Wha— nothing!" he said too quickly, scratching the back of his neck as he stepped away. His mind was racing, of course it smelled like you. Of course it did, and the potion didn’t lie. No matter how much he had tried to.

You shook your head in amusement as you leaned over the cauldron and let the aroma seep into your nostrils. "What can you smell?" he asked, you knit your eyebrows together.

"It smells like, autumn" you started slowly, "Fresh strawberries— and rain.." you trailed off. "Smells good," you added, almost absentmindedly. "That good?" he spoke as he potted the substance. Needing something to ground himself. You nodded with a hum.

Snape once again walked over each station and arrived at yours, he took one look at the potion and nodded once — then walked back to the board. You looked at each other at the same time and broke into quiet, stifled laughter.

And then you noticed Penelope, walking over, you sighed internally. She had a stack of papers in hand, posture perfect as though she rehearsed this in a mirror beforehand. "We’re having a party tonight," she announced, placing a flyer neatly in front of Jungwon like she’s presenting a case. "Room of Requirement, for whoever wins the game."

She doesn’t look at you and you don’t look up. Mutual understanding, or maybe sly hatred. You focus on the vial in your hands instead, like you cared deeply about whatever you were pretending to do. "You’ll come, right?" she added, her tone shifting — directed only at him. Shock.

Jungwon barely glanced at the paper before his eyes flicked to you. Your brows are pulled together slightly — not dramatically, just enough that someone paying attention (him, apparently) would catch it.

"Y/n are you coming?" he asked instead. That caught you off guard, you looked up to see Penelope smiling at you. "Everyone's invited." she added with that strained smile, "I’ll think about it," you said, returning your attention to the vial in your hands.

"We'll be there." Jungwon said easily, still scanning the paper. Penelope seemed satisfied with that so she turned and walked off and you looked at him immediately. "Who says I'll be there?" you challenged. "C’mon," he grins, completely unbothered. "I’ll drag you if I have to."

"Yeah?" you shot back, arching a brow. "Try it." He leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough "Don’t start whining when I do." Your stomach did a small, very annoying flip. You scoffed, nudging him lightly. "I don’t whine." He hums like he knows better.

You both walked back to the dorms as you talked, conversation was light, easy as it drifted between the upcoming game and whatever else came to mind. Jungwon split off to his room to change, and you did the same — stepping into your dorm and closing the door behind you.

Your hands were slower than usual as you picked out something to wear — something casual, but fitted just right. Something that sat on you well. Your favourite jewellery settled against your skin and a quick swipe of lip-gloss, a glance in the mirror and then you were out again.

The living room was already alive when you stepped in. Voices overlapping, laughter spilling out between your friends as drinks were passed around and poorly mixed concoctions were tested. Your eyes found him instantly. Jungwon sat sprawled against the sofa, one arm thrown lazily over the back, a backwards cap resting low on his head. Grey hoodie, black pinstripe pants — effortless.

Dangerously so. He looked—

No. We're not doing that. You averted your thoughts and slipped in beside Kenny at the counter instead. Across the room, Jungwon’s voice faltered mid-sentence, Jake kept talking but Jungwon had stopped. His eyes found you the second you walked in and stayed and they moved slowly, taking you in like he was trying to memorize something he hadn’t noticed before.

Like you were different or maybe like he was. You tipped the drink back with Kenny and immediately scrunched your nose, pulling a face. "Fuck, that’s disgusting," you laughed, nudging the glass away. Kenny snorted beside you.

"Yo, Jungwon?" Jake’s voice cut in, barely holding back laughter. "Hm?" Jungwon responded, not looking away from you. "You’re staring." you turned. Their expressions shifted instantly too quickly to catch fully, but enough to notice something. You walked over anyway, slipping into the space beside Jungwon like it was second nature.

"What’s wrong with you?" you grinned, your leg brushing his as you sat. His breath hitched barely and the gloss on your lips caught the light. You leaned in without thinking nudging the glass near him. "Nothing," he said, a little too quick. "Thanks." He reached for your drink, taking a sip — his eyes still flickering back to you. You didn’t stay long and you stood again, moving back toward the kitchen to fix the drinks for the others.

"I'm doing it later." Jungwon’s voice was low, almost absentminded. Jake turned to him slowly. "…And just so we’re clear," he said carefully, "by it you mean—"

"I’ll tell her." he said quieter this time like he was certain. Jake blinked, he breathed out a laugh. "Wow," he muttered. "didn’t think I’d see the day." He then slumped back against the sofa with a breath of disbelief.

Jungwon didn’t respond, he was still watching you because lately it had become impossible not to. Every day, it got harder to ignore. Harder to pretend, harder to act like you didn’t pull him in without even trying.

Across the room, you laughed softly at something Ni-ki said — but your attention shifted when you caught Kenny’s eye. "Can you help me with something?" she asked already moving, you nodded following behind.

"I’ll be right back," you called over your shoulder. The door clicked shut behind you and Kenny turned immediately, leaning back against it — arms crossing as she stared at you. For a moment she just looked at you, perplexed. "Kenny?.." you said cautiously, a nervous smile tugging at your lips. "What the fuck is going on with Jungwon?" she asked, her voice sharper than intended. Your brows lifted, "Jungwon?"

"That man is staring at you like he’s never seen you before," she continued, watching you closely. You exhaled slow, because you knew. You’d noticed it too, you had felt it and avoided it. Hearing it out loud was too much and yet somehow relieving. "It’s nothing," you start.

"Y/n, he’s crazy about you, he—"

"What if you’re wrong, Kenn?" you cut in, quieter now. Your expression tightened but Kenny didn’t hesitate. "And if I’m right?" she asked. "Can you live with that?" The question landed heavy, like they had an ache behind them. You paced, hands restless at your sides because you saw it. The way he looked at you. The way everyone else looked at you both and the way your chest flood with something warm when he got too close and worse, it feels right. That’s the problem.

To answer her question, no. You couldn’t live with not knowing, with pretending. "Okay." Your voice was sudden and firm. Kenny blinked. "Okay?" she echoed. You nodded, the slight buzz running through your body did nothing but assure your current thought process.

"Yeah," you said, more certain now. "I’m going to test it." Kenny narrows her eyes. "How?" You shrug lightly. A small smirk pulling at your lips. "Observation," you say. "Field testing." She didn’t interrupt or move. "And by the end of tonight," you continued, "If I feel like he does — if there’s anything there…"

"I’ll confess." She stood still for a moment as though any sudden movement would change your mind then she broke. A grin spread across her face, wide and disbelieving. "Wow," she laughed. "Did not see that coming."

The conversation with Kenny had been playing on your mind as you walked towards the kitchen. No matter what, tonight would change everything.

You had a plan for the night, not a good one and it was not a foolproof one but it was something. How to figure out if your best friend of four years has feelings for you—101.

Eyes. Jungwon loves eye-contact he fiends for it. He held it longer than most people, like he was always searching for something just beneath the surface.

Body language. He was subtle with everyone else but not with you. He leaned in, closed space without asking, existed just a little closer than necessary like proximity was instinct when it came to you.

Touch. Initiating more contact, that was the biggest one. He'd nudge your shoulder, brush against your arm, pull you forward when you lagged too far behind.

Jungwon was always the one to initiate it, so tonight you’d flip it. You'd hold his gaze longer than usual. You don’t look away first. Close the distance before he can, be the one to reach for him.

It made your stomach twist just thinking about it, because this isn’t just observation anymore. It’s risk and if he pulls away, or if he hesitates. You’ll have your answer.

Your friends made it to the game a couple minutes early to get the best seats for the upcoming game, Slytherin V Gryffindor. You hang back just long enough to knock back a shot, purely medicinal.

Once you made it to the game there were a few empty seats besides your friends. He sent you a small wave, like he hasn’t been subconsciously tracking your existence since you walked in. You settled besides him — making a point to sit with your leg flush against his. He paused briefly and relaxed, this wasn't unusual. Not yet.

You then turned to him looking between his brown feline eyes. "Hi Won," you said. He looked between your own, his eyes widened for a flicker of a moment. "Hey Y/n," he returned with a mischievous smile, confusion twisting into his brows.

"What are you up to?" he said leaning in slightly. You leaned in even closer and tilted your head, just a little. Play dumb, "What do you mean?" you replied, eyes still trained on his.

"I- What?" he stammered. You only feigned ignorance, perplexing him further. Was it always this obvious?

Jungwon had been convincing himself he'd been thrown into an alternate dimension, the one he'd dreamt of once where you would flirt, shameless.

It was the kind of reality he’d never let himself linger on for long, too aware of how easily it could blur into something dangerous. Something that would make it impossible to go back to what you were.

So instead of questioning it, he leaned into it. A small grin graced his lips, your eyes dilated as they looked into his and you pulled back to sit back in your chair. He sat back with the sleeves of his hoodie rolled back — his forearms on show. He watched as you shook your head in amusement and disbelief, trying your best to focus on the game that was about to begin.

Shortly after, the balls were released into the air along with a whistle to signal the start of the game. As the players all flew around the pitch you couldn't help but notice Jungwon's gaze when he was convinced you weren't looking.

You turned to face him watching as his eyes flit over your face in response, "What are you looking at?" you asked holding his eyes with yours again. "You" he said simply, you rolled your eyes at his words, but despite that you felt it. That warmth spreading in your chest, traitorous and loud.

You look back at the blurs of red and green in the distance. Relishing in the warmth, instead of filing it away. You all talked about the game as the breeze picked up and your shoulders caved in, as if to shield yourself from the cold.

You then felt an arm snake around your shoulders, Jungwon pulled you into him and rubbed up and down your arm, you pressed further into his warmth. "Comfy?" he smiled looking down at you. You nodded looking up at him, "Me too." he said, with a sheepish grin — making a point to rub harder against your arm for a moment.

Your friends snickered at the two of you, but neither of you noticed — too caught up in the quiet little world you always seemed to fall into together. Conversation flowed easily, effortlessly, the kind you’d forget the details of later but remember the feeling of.

His chest vibrated under you as he spoke, sneaking glances at you. Every so often, his voice would dip, like he was saying something just for you — even when it wasn’t anything important at all.

It's not like you hadn't been in this position before, you had been enough times that this wasn't new. Only it was. Your heart beat faster now, harder against your chest. You were certain he could hear it.

You also knew, somewhere along the way, that this was another shift — another quiet turning point in something that had always felt steady. A new line drawn without either of you acknowledging it, one that would change the shape of everything after.

The game blurred by, you and Jungwon cheered and whined at each-others teams as each of them scored points. He would never admit it but he was secretly rooting for Slytherin to win. For… morale. Just so Ni-ki could come back flashing that boyish grin you all inevitably cooed over, that was the reason.

Not the way you leaned forward with every play, eyes lit with excitement or the way your hand tightened in his sleeve whenever the score shifted. Not the way your voice carried just a little louder when it was your house pulling ahead. Definitely not that.

The commentator was drowned out by Jake's own commentary, full body reactions, dramatic gasps, like he was personally responsible for the outcome. It’s funny, it is, but you’re only half there because Jungwon’s hand is still on you. "Oi, focus!" Jake’s voice cut through as he pointed wildly at the pitch, "Ni-ki’s about to lose his mind—" You laughed softly, but your attention didn’t fully leave Jungwon.

Not when his hand slid just a little further down your arm — not unfamiliar, just more intentional than before as though he was testing something too. The last few minutes of the game had you all perched at the edge of your seats — tension coiling tighter with every second, every pass, every near miss.

It peaked when Ni-ki suddenly dipped — sharp and brutal, a near 90-degree dive as his eyes locked onto a fleeting glint of gold. "OH—" Jake practically folding over the railing, "—HE’S GONE—WHERE IS HE—" Just as you all stood up to look over the banister. He shot back up, a grin splitting across his face, fist clenched tight around the Golden Snitch.

The stadium erupted as the Slytherin team crowded around the blonde seeker, Beomgyu pulled him onto his shoulders and they all chanted the house name. But somewhere in the chaos, Jungwon grabbed your hand, you hadn't even register when it happened.

One moment you were cheering, the next — his fingers were laced with yours, his other hand thrown into the air with the crowd. The cheers mellowed like it had been pushed underwater. Your eyes trained on the space connecting you both, like they might explain themselves. He looked over at you, noticing your silence following your gaze to your hand in his. Your eyes snapped up to his, he didn't let go, he didn't pull away. He only looked over your expression carefully.

"Hey." he spoke softly, quietly — just for you. "Hi." you returned, feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach, the one that the buzz of alcohol had barely dampened.

"Is this okay?" he asked squeezing your hand for a moment, your heart stuttered. "This is okay." you nodded. A smile stretched onto his face as his thumb circled your skin. Enough to quiet the doubt that had been clawing at you all day.

As the players all made their way back inside and the cheers had subsided you all hurried inside, to the warmth. "The party then?" Heeseung said making you groan. "You don't whine remember?" Jungwon said catching your wrist as you pulled away.

"Wasn't whining." you muttered, he rolled his eyes. "You're not actually gonna drag me?" you scoffed, your voice trailed off with a hint of doubt as you watched an evil grin mould onto his lips.

"You can make this easy and just come with me— us." he tilted his head with a hint of a pout on his lips. You stared at him for a second.. debated your life choices.

"Whatever." you rolled your eyes letting him drag you along to the Room Of Requirement because apparently your free will stopped working around him. The doors of the Room of Requirement opened to something entirely different this time vast and open, the ceilings stretching high above with dark stone beams crossing overhead. Fairy lights draped between them, casting a warm, golden glow that softened everything it touched.

Sofas were scattered across the room in uneven clusters, already claimed by groups of students, laughter spilling between them. In each corner, makeshift bars lined the corners, bottles everywhere, drinks being poured like consequences weren’t real.

"See?" he murmured, leaning slightly toward you, his voice low enough that it barely carried past your ear. "Not so bad." But he wasn’t looking at the room. He was looking at you.

The soft buzz that had been carrying you through the evening was starting to dull at the edges, thinning out into something far less convincing. You needed more than this half-hearted warmth for what you had planned. You grabbed a couple of bottles and some glasses from the bar, weaving your way back to the corner your friends had claimed earlier.

"I was about to come look for you," Kenny said the second she spotted you, her voice half-laughing, half-knowing. "Thought you’d already wandered off."

When you drank, you wandered. That was just a fact. Slipped away from conversations, from rooms, from people. Chasing distraction wherever it led, no real destination in mind. Your laugh came out as a exhale through your nose as you set everything down. "Not yet," you murmured, already reaching for a glass.

Everyone was sprawled out on a corner sofa, Jungwon sat at the edge with a twinge of amusement playing on his lips — he watched as you topped some unknown liquid off with some coke. You took a safety sip. Your sip turned into another as you deemed it drinkable. The room pulsed with low, bass-heavy music, something nostalgic bleeding through the speakers as your friends broke into loud, overlapping chatter about the game.

You looked up from your glass and caught his eye, and just like that — he tilted his head, a quiet invitation. Come here. You hate that it works. You moved without thinking, slipping into the space beside him at the edge of the couch. It was closer than usual.

His hand snaked around your back settling on your hip. "Got enough space?" he murmured, leaning in close enough that his voice brushed against your skin instead of reaching your ears. You blinked once. twice, suddenly your brain wasn’t keeping up with your body. "Yes— yeah I do" you said softer than you'd anticipated. Your voice had given you away. His eyes held yours for a second too long, lips curling up. "Good."

His gaze dipped, catching on the dark liquid in your glass. You followed it, then nudged it slightly toward him, tilting your head just a fraction. He took it, fingers brushing with yours, eyebrows furrowing for a moment as he sniffed experimentally. His eyes were on yours the whole time, he took a sip from where your lips touched the glass — expression morphing into subtle delight at the taste.

"Strong," he muttered, lips quirking slightly. You nodded like you hadn’t just noticed that and let your gaze drift across the room, swaying slightly to the music as the alcohol settled warm beneath your skin.

Jungwon didn't look away once, not when you turned, not when you laughed, not when you lost yourself in the rhythm. His eyes stayed on you like you were the only thing in the room worth watching.

It didn’t take long for the winning team to burst through the doors, loud and electric with energy. Ni-ki and Beomgyu led the way, the golden trophy gleaming under the soft glow of the fairy lights as cheers erupted around them. You smiled easily, stepping forward with the others.

"Your drop was insane, Riki," you added, nudging him lightly. He broke into that familiar boxy grin, pulling you into a quick side hug before being dragged into more congratulations. You poured another drink not long after, feeling the buzz deepen as the night went on. Enough to make the world feel lighter, hopefully enough to make you braver.

You got up at some point as someone asked the room to create a dance floor in the centre of it. The room shifted, glowing softly as it cleared, colours flickering across the floor like something alive. People flooded in almost instantly, laughter rising with the music. You were about to stay exactly where you were because, realistically, dancing in a crowd wasn’t usually your thing — but then you felt Jungwon stand beside you.

"You wanna dance don't you?" he grinned reading you. You turned to him, a small laugh slipping out. "I think I’m at that point." He reached for your hand and you let him. He guided you to the floor with a smile that was tugged between his teeth, one you couldn't see as you walked hand in hand. You also didn't notice the figure that stood somewhere along the side of the room with a glare directed at you.

Jungwon turned as he reached the dance floor and pulled you closer, you took his other hand in yours. Whatever this feeling was, you concluded you liked it and then the music switched and you gasped.

[ SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK > JOJI ]

"Fuck, I love this song." you smiled. Jungwon pulled you closer, hands now safely on your waist. "I know." he said, softer now. "Did you—" you started, but he cut you off with a playful roll of his eyes, spinning you once before pulling you right back in. A laugh slipped out of you anyway, bright and unfiltered, dying the second your body met his again. Your arms found their place around his neck without a second thought.

"Hi." he whispered. So close, close enough that you could feel his breath, see the way his eyes flickered not steady but blown out and uncertain in a way you’d never seen before. "Hi," you echoed, your fingers drifted to the hair at the nape of his neck as the lights shifted over his face in soft, changing colours.

"You've been different today" he started carefully. You tilted your head slightly, studying him. "Good or bad?" you asked. "So good" he said with no hesitation, "Yeah?" you murmured, a hint of a smile pulling at your lips.

"Yeah," he nodded, hands pressing lightly into your waist — like he needed to be sure you were still there. Jungwon’s thoughts tangled over themselves, something settling in his chest but not from the alcohol. It had him finally thinking, what if she feels what I feel?

"C'mon let's grab a drink." you said stepping back and taking his hand. He pouted just for a second, at the loss of your weight against him but it vanished the moment your fingers slipped into his. His grip tightened instinctively, like it settled something in him. You caught Kenny’s smile as you walked back, that knowing one she usually threw at you. This time, you didn’t brush it off. You smiled back.

You were halfway through your drink when you felt it, that familiar prickle of being watched. The universal experience of someone staring at you too hard, with one look around the group your eyes met Beomgyu's.

Too late to pretend you didn't notice. He tilted his head slightly, subtle, motioning toward the door. You hesitated for half a second, stomach dropping and then you nodded.

You turned to Jungwon, whose eyes were already on you, like he’d been waiting.

"I'll be right back." you said to him, squeezing his hand. A silent promise more than anything, he nodded once — squeezing back, thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles before letting go.

You got up and headed to the door, walking through and leaning against the wall as you and Beomgyu settled outside — the sound of music being drowned into silence as the door swung shut. You leaned against the wall as Beomgyu joined you, hands shoved into his pockets, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

"Hey," you said, tilting your head. "What’s up?" He exhaled through a small laugh. "I just—" he scratched the back of his neck, glancing at you, "I wanted to ask about you and Jungwon. Again." You huffed out a quiet breath, already knowing where this was going. "I noticed things felt… different," he added.

You looked down at your hands for a moment, fingers fidgeting slightly. "Yeah.. there has been a development" You glanced back up at him. "On my side, at least" Beomgyu didn’t even hesitate. "It’s reciprocated," he said with a small laugh, nodding like it was obvious. "Like— painfully obvious." You breathed in sharp at that.

Good to know you’ve been the only one missing that for four years. "But I just wanted to make sure," he added quickly. "I wasn’t lying before," you said, frowning slightly. "I just— didn’t realise," You started.

"No, no," he cut in, shaking his head with a small smile. "You’re good. We’re good." Relief flashed across your face "Okay, I'm glad."

"You should say something to him though." he added. "I will," you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

"Soo," he dragged out, nudging your shoulder lightly, "what are you waiting for?"

That question followed you all the way back inside. Through the noise, past the lights and the crowd that blurred around you as your eyes searched and found him.

Jungwon. Stood with Penelope, not too close. Nothing anyone else would question but close enough that it feels intentional. Close enough that you noticed. "You came," she said, soft, almost relieved like his presence meant something specific. Like he came for her. Your stomach turned and something bitter ran up your throat.

Your chest ached in this dull, persistent way like something was pressing there, not hard enough to break anything, just enough to be constantly noticeable. Which was worse, honestly. You could deal with sharp. You told yourself it was nothing. Jungwon’s expression was neutral — polite, attentive in that way he is with people he doesn’t want to be rude to. He’s listening, nodding slightly, but there’s no real weight behind it.

She says something else, quieter this time, leaning in just slightly like she doesn’t want anyone else to hear. He glances around for a second — quick, then back at her, responding with something short.

He’s not pulling away or shutting it down. He wasn’t doing anything that would let you go oh, I’m being dramatic. That’s what got you, not what he did, but what he didn’t do.

Your jaw tightened as you turned away, slipping back into your group like nothing had happened. As though you hadn’t just stood there analysing every second of that interaction like it meant something. You grabbed a drink, didn’t even register what it was — just needed something to do with your hands.

Don’t look, not at her handing him a drink. Not at him hesitating, then taking it anyway. You didn’t see him notice you were back or the way he excused himself with something vague, already moving before she could respond. "Hey," he said, quieter now, like the room had shrunk down to just the two of you. "Hi," There was a beat. A shift.

"I didn't see you come in," he started, sitting besides you. Wonder why. The thought came automatically, dry and sharp, but you didn’t let it show. Your eyes flicker to her, just for a moment. He followed your line of sight, not obviously. "Just got here a couple minutes ago." you said.

"Yeah, I—" he huffed a small breath, like he’d rather skip over whatever explanation he could give. "She just stopped me." You didn’t respond, didn’t ask. "She was asking about something for class," he added anyway, quieter this time.

Your fingers tightened slightly around your glass. "Right," you said, like it mattered. He paused watching you, "I wasn’t… staying." He said, softer. That made you glance at him properly. He looked like he wanted you to understand something he wasn’t fully saying. Your chest tumbled in that same dull, frustrating way and you looked away first.

"Okay," you said, a little too quick. He didn’t call it out, he just nodded once, like that was enough — for now. "I was looking for you, actually," he added after a second, almost like it was an afterthought.

"Yeah?" you said, trying to keep your tone even. "Yeah," he repeated, quieter. That was all it took, the quiet certainty in his voice, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing he’d meant to find — for that nagging ache in your chest to loosen, easing just enough to finally let you breathe.

"I was—" he started, then stopped, huffing a small breath. "Do you wanna—"

"The balcony?" you said at the same time. You both paused and then laughed, caving into each other a little. "Yeah," he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "The balcony."

He walked quieter than usual with that drink he had already taken a few sips from. Tonight, you were going to say it. Penelope doesn't matter, that didn't mean anything. You closed your eyes briefly, inhaling. Nerves crept in as you reached the balcony behind the tinted glass doors. He reached for your hand as you stood before the stone railing of the balcony. You had never felt so vulnerable, never entrusted something as fragile as your feelings to another person.

The cool air kissed your skin, a relief against the heat crawling up your neck and then you turned to him. Your fingers curled into his, his grip tightened almost instantly. "Y/n," Jungwon breathed, there was a flush across his cheeks, spilling down his neck. His hand held yours too tightly, almost desperate. "Yes?" you said, unaware you were holding your breath

"I don’t know how to say this…" he murmured, more to himself than to you, a quiet, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. "I think you know what I’m going to say," he added, letting out a small, breathy laugh. He took a sip of his drink and placed it down the stone railing. "I think I do too," you replied carefully, a smile breaking through despite yourself.

He mirrored your smile pulling you a little closer. For a second, everything aligned, like maybe all the overthinking, avoidance and quiet longing hadn’t been one-sided delusion. Then, something shifted. His eyes flickered. Not to you, but past you. Through the glass doors as though something had caught his attention. Your brows knit, your gaze followed his instinctively — but you didn’t understand what he was looking for.

You just knew you’d lost him for a second, his attention had slipped through your fingers. Your brows pulled together, your brain already scrambling to justify it. When he looked back at you, his expression had changed. Brighter, a full smile broke out, stretching across his face. Like whatever he’d been working up to wasn’t heavy anymore.

It was contagious, you couldn't help but smile at his smile, only yours came with a tilt to your brow. "Right— sorry, where was I?" he said, voice suddenly lighter, confidence replacing the earlier nerves like they’d never been there. "I think…" he started, taking a quick sip of his drink, like he needed it, like he couldn’t quite stay still, "I think I really like someone."

Your chest tightened but not in a bad way. Not yet, because obviously he meant you. You nodded, amused "Right, who is she?" you spoke, still smiling — even as something inside you began to sink.

"Ah, you know our potions class?" he said, almost fond. "Penelope." He looked over at the glass again, at her. You faltered for a moment, then you held your smile for a second longer, letting it settle into something softer, something that took effort to be there. Hope is so rude. It shows up uninvited and then ruins your life.

You didn’t shatter or explode or break in any loud, dramatic way. You just felt, disoriented — like missing a step in the dark. That sudden, disorienting lurch where your body forgets where it’s supposed to land.

"Oh." you exhaled letting your hand drop. Your heart ached in a way that felt… unauthorised, almost. As though it had no right reacting this strongly to something you were never promised in the first place.

He didn’t seem to notice. "Yeah," he continued, almost giddy now. "I noticed her a while ago… sometimes it feels like she just — lives in my head." Eyes soft and sparkly. How they would be for someone in love. That look, the one you thought meant something. The one you thought was yours.

You thought you were being smart. You had the upper hand because you weren’t saying anything but now you don’t even get to be angry. There’s no betrayal, he didn't lie or trick you. You had built something out of moments of eye contact and hope, which is actually humiliating when you put it like that.

And you smile, of course you do. You ask questions and play the part you’ve always played. The best friend, the one who listens because that’s what you are. That’s what you’ve always been.

Push it down before it has the chance to become visible, before it turns into something he might notice — because the last thing you want is for him to look at you and realize. That you’re not as unaffected as you’ve spent years pretending to be and somewhere between him talking about her eyes, her laugh, the way she made him feel — your mind drifted. Your gaze lifting past him, to the clouded night sky, stretched out above the castle.

"Y/n?" Jungwon laughed softly, the sound light and open. "Yes?" you breathed. Something in your chest had gone strangely still. "I think I love her" he said almost dazed. You felt sick, It wasn't even just jealousy. It was the realization, that whatever you were holding onto — hope maybe or just the possibility of more, it didn't exist how you wanted it to. The realization that you were never part of the equation.

"You should tell her." you said, in a voice you barely recognised as your own, stepping back towards the door. He didn't register anything you said, he just stared through that same glass and gawked. For a moment you stood still and forced your eyes to his profile, his parted curved lips, his glittering eyes.

Your heart ached at how easily he held that look for her. It was steady, unguarded. There was no hesitation, no flicker of self-consciousness, no quick glance around to see who might notice. It was simple. Just him and her. It was real, and it wasn’t you.

You turned on your heel and walked, because you were not about to let him see what that did to you. Not now, not ever. Past the dancing students and past your friends who weren't aware of anything that had happened.

Your stomach flipped in slow, nauseating waves and suddenly you were too aware of everything. Your voice. Your hands. How long you’d been avoiding eye contact with the world. You kept your expression neutral on autopilot, years of practice kicking in. Survival instinct, if you don’t react, it didn’t happen.

You wondered if you saw him clearly at all, or if you were just filling in the blanks with what you wanted to see. You found yourself in a barely lit abandoned classroom and sat down on the steps near the window. The window was cracked open, letting in cold air that didn’t help but felt deserved somehow. It probably hadn't been long, probably minutes, but it felt you had been there for hours.

At some point your hands had started shaking, small at first, then enough that you had to press them flat against your thighs to make it stop. Your jaw locked, teeth pressed together like you could grind the feeling out of your system if you tried hard enough.

You were angry, you didn’t do anger. You did quiet and distance You did the slow, controlled kind of detachment where things stopped mattering because you decided they didn’t but you were angry, because you had allowed this. You let yourself believe it meant more, more than friendship but this this was different. This was sharp, embarrassing because none of this was technically his fault.

You let the lines blur. You let yourself sit a little closer, stay a little longer, read into things you knew you shouldn’t. You let your friends talk, let Kenny look at you like she’d already written the ending, let Jake’s stupid comments sink in like they meant something, like it wasn't just in your head.

You sat with your shoulders slightly caved in, your leg bounced repeatedly. In the time you were sat dissociated you were stuck. Cutting your thoughts off as they crowded in, not letting them finish their sentence. Redirecting them to something, anything else but it kept coming back.

He didn’t hesitate. You tried focusing on anything else, the rough breaths you could barely manage. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly when you felt pressure build behind your eyes. No, I'm not doing that. You ignored it, even when your vision blurred slightly — even when a tear slipped free anyway, trailing down before you could stop it.

You didn’t wipe it right away, you just let it happen like it didn’t belong to you. Eventually, you stood because sitting there felt worse and staying meant thinking and thinking meant feeling.

Jungwon felt as though someone had dimmed the lights in his head, except nothing felt wrong, in fact it all felt overwhelmingly right. At some point his thoughts had narrowed quietly, to her. Penelope. She became his centre without him allowing it. His body followed without his mind understanding or questioning the reality of why. Which is why he didn't notice your faux smile the way he would have, the way it held a second too long.

He would have once, you knew that. He would’ve tilted his head, narrowed his gaze just slightly, like he was trying to read something between the lines. He would’ve asked, "What’s wrong?" even when you insisted nothing was.

He sauntered into the room with the kind of confidence only deeply intoxicated people and stupidly pretty boys possessed. Music pulsed through the room walls, low enough to feel in your chest more than hear properly. Everything looked slightly blurred around the edges, Jungwon placed his half-empty cup down on the nearest table carelessly, some shimmering pearlescent liquid sloshing over the rim.

He then walked over to her with a set of nerves he had no memory of harbouring. She stood glancing over at him with a knowing smirk. The type of girl who looked like she collected secrets for entertainment. "There you are," she hummed and Jungwon smiled instantly, helplessly.

"Hey," Jungwon said, eyes wide in that soft, open way — the same ones she had wished, not long ago, had been on her instead. The one you’d spent weeks trying not to fall apart over.

"Hey handsome," Penelope replied smoothly, like she’d tested it beforehand. She set her drink down and passing him a refilled cup of the same pearlescent liquid, he took it without even looking.

It was around then that Jake and Heeseung had circled back after getting some air, expressions already exhausted from dealing with drunk idiots all night. Jake was mid-sentence when he noticed Jungwon, Heeseung followed his line of sight and both of them went quiet for a second. "Oh, for fuck’s sake," Jake muttered under his breath.

"Heyy Jungwon.." Heeseung started carefully, voice cautious in the way people spoke to someone standing too close to the edge of a cliff. His gaze flicked to the girl beside him — unfamiliar, unimpressed by the interruption.

"Hi guys." he grinned looking between them. The grin alone was enough to concern everybody involved. "This is Penelope!" he added, gesturing toward her as he shifted slightly closer, like it was obvious.

"Oh… hi?" Jake said slowly, exchanging another look with Heeseung.

"Uh—where’s Y/n?" For a fraction of a second, Jungwon went still — he inhaled, sharp as though he was discovering your existence for the first time and then it slipped away again. Gone so quickly Heeseung almost thought he imagined it.

"Oh, Y/n?" he said vaguely, already turning his attention back. The way he said your name made Jake’s eyebrows cock immediately, like he was recalling someone from a class roster.

"I don’t know, she left earlier." he mumbled unbothered before turning right back toward Penelope again, already distracted by whatever she whispered next. She giggled beside him and he looked at her like the sound made perfect sense. Jake physically recoiled, "What the fuck." Heeseung stepped in immediately, pulling Jungwon slightly aside. "Hey- what are you-"

"Did something happen?" Heeseung asked carefully, watching him with increasing concern. "Like before this. With Y/n or something?" Jungwon blinked at him, like the question was irrelevant. "Realised I'm in love with her" Jungwon said nodding, his eyes didn’t even leave Penelope. Heeseung shot him an appalled look, open mouthed and on the edge of annoyance.

"What?" he said flatly, disbelief breaking through. "In love with who?" Jake whisper-shouted, leaning in sharply. Jungwon barely reacted, his eyes held a softened mushy glint as he waved dozily at Penelope, who was giving his friends pointed looks. Jake immediately pushed Jungwon's head back down.

"Who the fuck is that?" he snapped, gesturing toward her. "Penelope," Jungwon repeated patiently like Jake was struggling academically (he was not). Jake snatched the cup out of his hand immediately.

"Alright. Enough, come with us." Heeseung said grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the exit, ignoring his whines and pleas. Penelope stepped forward quickly. "He wanted to stay—"

"Didn’t ask,” Jake snapped instantly." Jungwon continued whining the entire way out while Jake muttered increasingly aggressive threats under his breath, clutching the cup like evidence in a murder trial. Somewhere beneath all the haze clouding his mind, buried deep enough to almost disappear entirely, your name still sat quietly in Jungwon’s chest.

Jake also did the damage control, he spotted Kenny near the drinks table laughing at something Jay said, entirely unaware her night was about to get violently worse. "Kenny." Something in his tone made her smile drop immediately.

"We found Jungwon with some girl," Jake whispered quickly, glancing over his shoulder like he expected the walls themselves to start listening. "Talking about being in love and shit and Y/n is nowhere to be found." Her face shifted rapidly through about seven different emotions in under three seconds.

They both ran out the room, in opposite directions. Heeseung and Jake practically hauled Jungwon down the dungeon corridors toward the nearest empty potions classroom while he complained the entire way.

"Guys! Let me go-"

"Shut up." they snapped. The classroom door slammed shut behind them loudly enough to rattle the shelves, bottles clinking around the room. Jungwon stumbled slightly as they shoved him into a chair near one of the worktables.

Jake lifted the glass to his nose and inhaled, immediately pushing the glass away once the smell hit his nose. "It's Amortentia." he concluded, letting out a long suffering sigh before setting it back down. "Jungwon?" Heeseung crouched in front of him. "Can I see Penelope now?" Jungwon groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the chair.

"If you tell us what happened with Y/n," he said steadily, holding his gaze, "then yes." he lied, Jake nodded supportively anyway.

He made a concentrated thinking face at the ceiling "I took her to the balcony, I think- I wanted to tell her.. about Penelope and I did and then I looked back and she was gone." he rambled.

Jake and Heeseung looked at each other with pained expressions. "Fuck." Jake breathed, because suddenly he could picture it too clearly — you standing alone on that balcony listening to Jungwon talk about loving another girl after everything, after the lingering touches, all those painfully soft moments neither of you knew what to do with, and worst of all. Jungwon probably sounded sincere when he said it.

You probably stood there hearing every word and believed him completely.

"Can I see-" "—No!" they shouted immediately.

You lent against the cold stone of one of the many balcony's around Hogwarts, the air was sharp and prickly — you could feel the goosebumps, it soothed you. "Y/n." Kenny’s voice cut through the silence gently, though there was an edge of exasperation underneath it. You don’t turn immediately, didn't trust your face yet, your eyes bored into the stillness of the night — across the Great Lake.

"Y/n." she repeated softer this time as she approached. A hand settled carefully against your shoulder, you turned around meeting her worried eyed with your tired ones. "It's just me," she spoke quieter, taking in the exhaustion behind your eyes. "Oh, sorry." you said, "No," Kenny sighed almost instantly, offering you a small smile. "Don’t apologise."

You didn't answer, the wind pushed through your hair softly as your eyes drifted back toward the lake. Kenny leaned against the railing beside you after a moment, careful not to crowd you too much.

"Where did you go?" she asked eventually. "A walk." you replied simply. Kenny hummed softly, "You always come back weirdly philosophical after walks." Her eyes moved over your face carefully, like she was trying to piece together what kind of damage had already been done.

"He told you about her, didn't he." you said as though you were talking about something casual. She paused, "Yeah. Well.. Jake did," Kenny replied gently, turning to you. You nod softly, attempting to look unbothered. "Don't do that," she murmured immediately, tilting her head. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," you say, too quickly. "He just likes someone." Kenny blinks "Wait," she frowned. "Like actually?" You shrugged lightly like the conversation bored you. "Yeah." like it’s nothing. "He told me earlier."

"And you’re just… fine with that?" You lets out a short breath that almost sounds like a laugh. "Why wouldn’t I be?" Kenny turned toward you fully now, leaning forward slightly against the railing. "Because, you like him." The thing everyone apparently knew except the one person you wanted to know it. You shake your head, eyes dropping back down.

"It doesn’t matter."

"It does matter."

"He doesn’t feel the same," you say, firmly this time. "So it doesn’t matter." There’s something in the way you say it, like you're trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. She watches, carefully "Who is it?" You hesitate, just barely "Penelope."

"Who?" She raises a brow "She's in our potions." You say calm straight to the point. "And you’re okay?"

"Yeah." You shrug small "I told him he should tell her." The words tasted awful coming back out but that’s what a friend says, that’s what you are. Kenny's expression shifts "You told him that?"

"Of course I did," you say, like it’s obvious "That’s what you’re supposed to say."

"Not if it hurts you." You finally looks up at that, and there’s a flicker of something raw before it dulls. "I’m not hurt," you say. It’s quiet and you almost believe it. Kenny doesn’t call you out on it right away, she just studies you for a moment, then asks softly.

"What did you expect him to say?"And that was the question you weren't ready for, because your brain instantly reminds you how sure you were.

Your throat tightens, and for a second you can’t answer. Can’t even form the words without everything else slipping out with them. "Nothing," you says eventually. "I didn’t expect anything." A lie.

"Right." Kenny frowns almost sadly. A silence forms between you. Uncomfortable and loud, you clear your throat. "It's not a big deal," you add, stepping back, already closing the conversation before it can open into something dangerous. "So let’s not… do this again." You both know it’s not okay but it’s enough, for now. So instead she nods, "Let's go inside, get you warm."

The night blurred by the time you made it back to your room. You moved through it on autopilot, same routine, same steps, as if nothing had shifted or as if something hadn’t.

It took significantly more effort than either Jake or Heeseung would ever admit out loud to get Jungwon back to his dorm. Mostly because he would not stop talking.

And by the time they finally shoved him through the dormitory door, all three of them had looked seconds away from collapse. Jungwon stumbled toward his bed dramatically while Jake slammed the door shut behind them.

"I hate this school," Jake muttered immediately, "You say that every week," Heeseung replied tiredly, preparing something in the bathroom, "Because every week this castle invents a new problem." Jungwon dropped face first onto the mattress with a groan. "Penelope would understand me." he said muffled, Jake actually lunged towards him, "Don’t make me hit you."

Heeseung returned a moment later from the bathroom holding a glass filled with something dark purple and deeply suspicious looking.

"Drink," He said, pressing a glass of something dark and purple into his hand, Jungwon looked up slowly. "What is that." he frowned.

"Drink the fucking potion before I throw you into the Black Lake myself." Jake huffed, Heeseung nodded once in agreement. "Honestly at this point I’d help him." Their expressions — tired, worn down, entirely over it, left little room for argument. He sighed and drank it.

"Goodnight," Jake said flatly, the effect was instant, his body went slack as he dropped back against the pillows, breath evening out into a heavy, unnatural sleep.

Both of them exhaled, Jake dragged a hand down his face while Heeseung pushed Jungwon’s legs properly onto the bed. "That should keep him out until morning," Heeseung muttered. "It’ll wear off by then." Jake only nodded, quieter than usual.

Something about the entire situation sat heavily in the room now that the chaos had died down. The silence after disaster always felt worse somehow.

Morning came too loud, too bright. Jungwon groaned, dragging a hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into his eye as a sharp, splitting ache pulsed at the back of his skull. His mouth tasted awful, he blinked once, twice. Then he froze.

He sat up abruptly, breath catching as the night came rushing back in fragments — words, expressions, the certainty he’d felt. It had felt real, so real.

The party, Penelope’s face.. the overwhelming certainty sitting inside his chest every time he looked at her, intense enough to make him dizzy even now in retrospect. He remembered saying he loved her. Remembered meaning it in the moment with horrifying sincerity. His stomach turned. Did I mean it? No. No, that’s not right. Why did I say that?

And then, you. The thought hit harder than the headache and a mix of emotions followed in — anger, sharp and immediate at the realization that someone had drugged him.

Embarrassment, heavier, settling in his chest as he replayed what he’d said. How he’d said it, but beneath all of that, one stray thought, quiet and devastating in its simplicity.

She told me to tell her.. She didn’t care. Jungwon stared blankly at the floor now, jaw tightening slowly as another ache spread through his chest entirely separate from the headache splitting his skull open.

She doesn’t feel the same.

V 𓄧 lore accurate jungwon and riki ^. once again im sorry for making this 2 parts pls i wasn't going to i had no choice don't hurt meimsorry. she's alr at least 70% done. DAS RED RED DAS RED U SHOULD COME MESS WITH THE TEAMM EEE.

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𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𓇬 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!!

[mssishipi]

OUT OF LUCK— SJY

Money, sex, and a lifetime of feeling like luck was never really on your side—until the universe decided to fuck with you in the most inconvenient way possible. What started as simple coexisting turned into something more when you paid a little too much attention to your quiet, awkward, painfully responsible roommate—who, on paper, is a complete fucking loser. But, hey, he’s not that bad!

In which Sim Jaeyun becomes the only genuinely good, unfairly lucky thing that’s ever happened to you… and just like everything else in your life, good things have a way of slipping right through your fingers. So now you have to figure it out, fix it, or risk losing the only thing that ever felt right before you run Out of Luck.

content tags and warnings: roommate au! romantic comedy, jake is an engineering student x volleyball varsity player reader, jake has braces! hopeless romantic reader (she almost get off), internal conflict, jake is such an awkward introverted baby (he likes lego and collects hotwheels), burning slowburn (slow pacing i swear), lots of awkward erm moments, jake is secretly a simp, reader is pathetic, angst!!!! ft. karina, other kpop idols and robots as side characters. more detailed tags on each part. explicit content (smut): masturbation (f&m), virginity loss, overstimulation, hand jobs, grinding, unprotected sex, MINORS DNI.

UNIVERSE | LUCKY FAMILY

1: AGAINST THE ODDS | WC: 35K

2: FORTUNE’S FAVOR | WC: 34K

NOTE: it’s been so long ever since i posted a story and i COMPLETELY FORGOT how tumblr works. huhu. how are you guys doing?

[mssishipi]

OUT OF LUCK— SJY

Money, sex, and a lifetime of feeling like luck was never really on your side—until the universe decided to fuck with you in the most inconvenient way possible. What started as simple coexisting turned into something more when you paid a little too much attention to your quiet, awkward, painfully responsible roommate—who, on paper, is a complete fucking loser. But, hey, he’s not that bad! In which Sim Jaeyun becomes the only genuinely good, unfairly lucky thing that’s ever happened to you… and just like everything else in your life, good things have a way of slipping right through your fingers. So now you have to figure it out, fix it, or risk losing the only thing that ever felt right before you run Out of Luck.

2: FORTUNE'S FAVOR

content tags and warnings: roommate au! romantic comedy, jake is an engineering student x volleyball varsity player reader, light angst, angst and fluff and fluff and a happy ending! complicated feelings, mentions of SUPERTITIOUS BELIEFS, tarot reading, luck, fate etc! 10k wc of reader avoiding jake and the rest will be jake 's pov (he yap and yap), mentions of social anxiety and self harm, jake is such an awkward introverted baby he needs a hug i swear, jake is yearning :(, embarassment, 2nd hand embarassment, public confession, awkward erm moments, jake is secretly a simp and he's pathetic, slice of life, kissing hehe. ft. heeseung as jake's best supportive friend, 02z as jake's hs friend, kazuha as jake's ex gf, karina, ryujin, other kpop idol as reader's volleyball team, robots and fish as side characters. mild smut: masturbation, still MDNI! (WC:34.6K)

Fate is a power believed to predetermine events, some unavoidable bullshit that people love to hold onto when things go wrong. A little explanation so they don't have to admit that sometimes things just fall apart because people make stupid choices, or because shit just happens for no good reason at all.

And right now? You think fate is complete fucking nonsense.

If fate was real, then maybe you wouldn't have been dumb enough to let things spiral the way they did. Maybe you would've stopped yourself before crossing the line.

Maybe if people weren't idiots, if they just paid attention for one goddamn second, things wouldn't end up worse than they needed to be. Like, for example—if someone didn't decide to throw a basketball straight to your fucking face like they had zero brain cells to work with.

Geez. Fate. Luck. Doom. What kind of bullshit logic even ties those things together? The more you think about it, the more it just pisses you off. People are so fucking dumb sometimes, acting like everything is written in the stars when half of it is just bad decisions stacked on top of each other.

"Hehe... I'm so sorry."

You glance at Karina from where you're sitting on the bench, an ice pack pressed against your already bruised nose, your face still sore from everything that's happened over the past few days. Her hand hovers mid-air, like she wants to check on you but isn't sure if you'll snap at her or brush her off.

She just got back from Japan and of course, Ryujin had already filled her in. Not just about how, three days into recovery of your accident, some dumbass from the basketball team managed to add another bruise to your already fucked-up nose during practice like it was some kind of sick joke.

But also that you got your heart broken. Well. You didn't want to tell her. You didn't want to tell anyone, if you were being honest. Saying it out loud makes it real in a way that just thinking about it doesn't. It turns it into something people can react to, something they can pity, something they can talk about. And you're not in the mood for that shit.

So you just exhale slowly, leaning back a bit, eyes drifting away from her. "It's fine," you mutter. Karina doesn't look convinced. She's not stupid. But for once, she doesn't push immediately. Thankfully.

She lowers her hand slowly, sitting down beside you, her shoulder brushing lightly against yours and you know exactly what she's trying to do—comfort, soften the edges, make it easier for you to crack open and talk. But you don't. You just let out a quiet sigh, leaning back slightly as if nothing about this is affecting you. You let her stay there because it's easier than pushing her away and dealing with the questions that would follow. You've always been good at this anyway—pretending. Acting like you're fine.

And weeks pass like that. Quietly. You make it a point—no, a fucking mission—that you and that man-who-shouldn't-be-named never cross paths.

You adjust your schedule, leaving earlier, coming home later, avoiding the living room at certain hours, listening for any sign that he's around before stepping out of your room. It's exhausting, honestly, but you do it anyway because the alternative—seeing him, talking to him, pretending like nothing happened or worse, acknowledging it—feels ten times worse.

You even considered moving out at one point, scrolling through listings late at night, checking dorm prices, calculating your budget over and over again like maybe the numbers would magically change.

They didn't.

Because you're broke. Like, actually fucking broke. Rent is insane, dorms are worse, and on top of that, your training for regionals has been eating up your time and energy like crazy. Your appetite has doubled—no, tripled—and now you can't go a day without stuffing yourself full or you start feeling like shit. And all your money? Gone. Straight into food. Food, food, and more fucking food.

You click your tongue in annoyance just thinking about it, dragging a hand down your face. Fuck this. Why did that man even cook for you so much before? Why did he set that stupid standard? Now your body's used to actual meals, and you can't even go back to your old habits without feeling like you're dying. It's irritating. It's inconvenient. It's— NO. You cut the thought off before it goes somewhere else.

You swore you wouldn't like anyone anymore. That shit is done. Over! Finished!

And honestly? All those stupid things people made you believe in? Complete bullshit. The grapes you ate during New Year's for luck? Fucking scam. The bracelet they made you wear in February because it's supposed to bring love or whatever the hell? Garbage. You should've thrown it away the moment you got it. And that horoscope reading? "2026 will be your year"—yeah, right. Biggest scam of them all!

"I miss you, please don't be angry at me!"

Karina wraps herself around you from behind, her arms locking tight around your shoulders. The impact makes you jolt forward slightly, your whole body stiffening as irritation immediately flashes across your face. You try to pry her off, fingers digging into her forearms.

"What's with you? I'm not angry, the hell?" you scoff, twisting your shoulder and swatting at her arm, but it does nothing. If anything, she tightens her hold, pressing her cheek against yours.

"I know you would say that," she whines, dragging every word out dramatically, completely unfazed by your resistance. Her voice softens just a little as she nuzzles closer. "But there's some kind of tension you have with me. I can feel it. I promise I'm not gonna push you with some other guy again, just talk to meeee."

"Karina!" you snap. You twist harder this time, trying to break free, your voice rising with both annoyance and disbelief. "I am not angry, what the—?!"

But she doesn't let go. "Really?" she shoots back immediately, her tone shifting to show she's not buying your shit. Her arms stay locked around you as she leans her chin on your shoulder, peeking at your face. "Then why won't you talk to me?"

"I'm not talking to anyone because I'm broken-hearted!" you fire back with sarcasm. You stop struggling for a second, your hands dropping uselessly to her arms as you huff out a breath. "Of course it's normal to be this way! You're the one who pushed me, remember?"

"Huhuhu, I'm so sorry!" Karina immediately wails, completely switching gears as she stomps her foot against the ground while still hugging you. The movement jostles both of you, but she doesn't loosen her grip. "Promise, I'll help you get over him. God, I hate him!" Her voice sharpens, her real irritation slipping through. "Do you want me to sabotage his project?! I heard his club is organizing some event with Architecture. Just say it. I'll definitely do it!"

You finally manage to grab her wrists and yank her arms off you, turning around to face her fully with a look that screams what the fuck is wrong with you. "No—what the fuck?" you snap, staring at her like she just suggested arson instead of whatever the hell that was. You roll your eyes, dragging a hand through your hair as you try to calm yourself again. "I just want to focus on Regionals. Just... don't mention him anymore." Your voice drops a little. "It's better to move on when I don't have updates or news."

Karina watches you for a second, her expression softening as she processes that, then she nods slowly. "Soooo... are we good?" she asks, immediately looping her arm around yours again.

You click your tongue, glancing at her from the corner of your eye. "Of course we are always good. What's with you?"

"You sure?" she presses, squinting at you like she's trying to catch you slipping.

"Yes."

"Then I have a gift for ya!" Her mood flips instantly again, energy shooting back up as she lets go and starts digging through one of her paper bags.

You watch her with mild suspicion, arms crossing over your chest as you wait—and then your expression completely breaks when she pulls out a clear plastic bag filled with water... and a tiny fish swimming inside.

"What the—"

"My guppy gave birth and I don't have a tanks anymore!" she beams proudly, holding it up like it's the best gift in the world. The fish wiggles inside the bag. "Take this as a gift for ya. It will help you clear your mind!"

"No. What the fuck?!" you hiss immediately, recoiling slightly. Your brows knit together in pure disbelief, staring at the tiny creature. "Karina, I'm not taking responsibility for a living thing right now—are you insane?!"

But she just grins wider, already trying to shove the bag toward you anyway.

And that was how you ended up bringing a fish

You are absolutely, undeniably, one hundred percent going to fucking kill Karina.

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, one hand gripping the plastic bag with a tiny fish inside, while your phone is awkwardly wedged between your shoulder and your ear. You open cabinets with your free hand, shoving things aside in search of anything that could pass as a container. It's 3:00 in the fucking afternoon, the heat pressing down on you like you are in hell, sweat already forming at the back of your neck. The aircon hums uselessly somewhere behind you, doing absolutely nothing. Why the hell is it not cooling? Is it broken? Did someone mess with it? Did he— NO.

"The fuck?!" you snap out loud when the call suddenly drops, the silence hitting immediately after Karina's last words—calm down, guppy don't need oxygen——before cutting off completely. You pull the phone away, glaring at the screen. No signal nor an Internet.

Of course! Jake is the one assigned to the internet payment. You remember clearly—you left the damn money on the center table days ago where he couldn't miss it. And now this? No connection, no help, no fucking instructions on how to keep this tiny living thing alive.

"God! The worst roommate ever!" you mutter under your breath, shoving your phone onto the counter with more force than necessary. Worst roommate! Worst fucking roommage! Not paying that damn internet, overheating the air conditioner since he was the one who is staying so damn long in the living room, rejecting your feelings— Hold on. Stop. Moving on remember?

You exhale sharply, like you're physically pushing the thought out of your system, and look back down at the plastic bag in your hands. The tiny fish wiggles inside, completely unbothered by your internal crisis, its small body flicking through the water.

"How am I supposed to know how to build your environment?!" you hiss at it. You let out a long breath, shoulders dropping slightly. "Okay... okay..." you mutter to yourself, trying to calm the fuck down. It's just a fish. A tiny, stupid fish. People take care of these things all the time. You can't be that incompetent.

You finally grab a glass jar from the cabinet, a clean one, at least, and set it down on the counter. It's not ideal, probably, but it's better than leaving it in a plastic bag forever like some kind of moving takeout.

Your eyes wander, and they land on that stupid little robot sitting lifelessly on the edge of the table. An idea sparks, ask Bumble for help! Of course! Jake's little tech toy could totally—well, theoretically—make this easier. You lean down, plastic bag in one hand, glass jar in the other, carefully lowering the fish into the water. The liquid sloshes around, tiny ripples forming, and the fish flicks its tail nervously.

Your fingers hover over the robot, hesitating a moment because the thing looks impossibly flat and dumb, and yet... Jake had somehow made it work before. How? How the fuck did he do that?

"Bumble, open," you command. The robot doesn't move. Not a single servo whir, not even a twitch. You frown, crouching lower to get a better look at it, poking at the flat surface with your fingertip. Nothing. You blink at it, confusion mixing with irritation as the anger starts to simmer back up again, fueled by the memory of that stupid, infuriating boy who made it work so effortlessly. His stupid braces flashing whenever he smiled, that crooked, perfect grin, his stupid, clueless, nerdy self who somehow made everything look so easy. Stupid boy.

You can't help it. You shake the robot lightly, as if your rage can transfer through it, make it activate, make it do something other than sit there mocking you.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" you hiss under your breath, frustration bubbling past the point of reason.

You can almost feel the heat of your blood rising in your cheeks, your heart hammering faster than it should over a stupid fish and a stupid robot. And yet, beneath all that —why are you this bitter? NoOOo! It's valid! He's a fucking idiot. That robot is a fucking idiot. And yet—and yet—you can't stop thinking about him, about the way he made you laugh, the way he made you feel, the way he lingered in your thoughts like a permanent ghost.

"Stupid, useless robot," you mutter under your breath, your grip tightening around Bumble. You shake it again. "Why the fuck won't you open? What, are you trying to act like your owner too? Just shut down and ignore people?"

The sudden creak of the door makes your whole body jolt. You stiffen instantly, your heart jumping straight to your throat as your head snaps toward the entrance. Jake was frozen in place, just a few steps inside, like he didn't expect to see you either. His hand is still on the doorknob, the other clutching his bag loosely. His eyes flicker—first to Bumble in your hands, then to the jar on the counter with the fish awkwardly floating inside, then finally to you. And when his gaze settles on your face, it stays.

You see it happen in real time—the shift. His eyes widen, and it pisses you off. He takes in the fading bruises along your cheek, the slight discoloration near your nose, the healing cut on your chin with its visible stitch. His brows knit together, concern flashing across his face so quickly it almost looks painful, like he doesn't know what to do with it. "W-What happened?" he asks, voice stumbling over itself as his hand lifts halfway, like reaching toward your face before stopping mid-air.

That—that right there—makes your chest twist wrong.

You straighten up immediately, forcing your expression to do it's own neutral controlled thing, dropping Bumble back. You avoid his eyes like they burn, turning your attention back to the fish. Geez. Two fucking weeks. Two weeks of silence, of avoidance, of pretending he didn't exist—and now he wants to ask questions like he still has the right? Like nothing happened?

"When are you planning to pay for the Wi-Fi?" you cut in flatly. You keep your back partially turned to him, fiddling with the jar, adjusting the plastic inside even though it's already fine. "I already left the payment."

There's a pause behind you. You can even feel it without even looking — the hesitation, the shift in his breathing, the way he probably opens his mouth and then closes it again like he always fucking does.

"Uh... I was actually busy... that's why..." he answers as he steps further inside and lets his bag drop to the floor.

You let out a small, humorless scoff under your breath, still not looking at him. Busy. Of course he was busy. Bet he was also busy avoiding you.

"Right," you mumble, eyes fixed on the water in the jar, watching the fish move in slow, careless circles.

"Are you... okay?—"

Your head turns sharply, eyes locking onto him with a glare. "Why the fuck do you even care if I'm not?" you shoot back. But just as quickly, you feel that ugly edge, that bitterness creeping. Shit you hate it. You hate how it makes you sound. You hate how it makes you feel like the one who's losing control.

So you pull back. You look away first, breaking eye contact and reach for your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. The jar with the fish inside the plastic crinkles softly as you pull it close to your chest. "Just..." you click your tongue, your jaw tightening as you force your tone back. "Pay that damn Wi-Fi."

You walk past him without waiting for a response, your shoulder brushing the air near him but never quite touching. Your hand grips the doorknob of your room, pausing for just a second before you push it open.

You inhale deeply, and without turning back, you add, "and fix the AC." Then you step inside and shut the door behind you.

Silence follows immediately. You lean back against the door, eyes squeezing shut. "Stupid boy," you mutter under your breath, your voice cracking just slightly despite your effort to keep it together. You drag a hand down your face, exhaling sharply, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on you. You really wish you could rewind everything. Back to when things were simple. When you were just minding your own damn business, not expecting anything, not hoping for anything. No stupid feelings.

Because what the hell were you even thinking? A fairytale? Really? You let out a dry, almost bitter laugh, shaking your head as you push yourself off the door and move further into your room. "What could possibly go right with a man disguised as a loving prince?" you mutter. "They're all the same. Fucking villains." You huff, running a hand through your hair. "Witches, even. Pretending to be kind, then dragging you down, poisoning you—"

You stop mid-step, blinking at yourself like you just caught your own bullshit. "...Why the fuck are you thinking about fairytales again?" you mutter, almost annoyed.

And you need to place this fucking fish outside your room!

You threw yourself into training as though it was the only thing keeping you from completely losing your shit.

Regionals wasn't just some school-level game anymore, you carried your city's name on your back whether you liked it or not. The drills were stricter, harsher, less forgiving. Coaches didn't care if your legs were shaking or your lungs felt like they were about to collapse; they pushed anyway, barked orders like you were machines instead of people. It was exhausting, and so brutal, kind of relentless—and somehow, you welcomed it. Because every second your body ached, every moment your mind focused on the game, it left less room for him.

Unluckily—luckily—you weren't stuck in one place either. The team moved from city to city, different courts, different environments, different faces. New people, new opponents, new distractions. You met players who were just as aggressive, just as desperate to win, some even worse. It forced you to stay sharp, forced you to adapt.

At night, when your body finally gave out and you collapsed into unfamiliar beds, there was barely enough energy left in you to think. Barely enough energy to remember anything, and yet... somehow, in those quiet moments right before sleep took you, your mind still slipped. Back to him.

One night while packing your things for another early call time, your hands moving automatically as you zipped your bag. Your thoughts drifted. What is Jake even doing right now?

You frowned, shoving your clothes harder into your bag like that would shove the thought away too. Before you left the apartment earlier that week, the fridge was nearly empty. Barely anything inside except leftovers that didn't look touched and random shit that didn't make sense together. It's not like you were cooking. Hell, you barely ate at home anymore. You never even did heathy groceries in the first place. That was always—

You stopped.

Is he eating properly now? Is he still organizing everything like some obsessive little nerd? Or did he just... stop?

Oh, dude. What the actual fuck! You shake your head, physically rejecting the thought. Why the hell do you even care? Why does it matter if he's eating or starving or turning into a complete mess? He made his choice.

"...Yeah, right," you mutter under your breath.

Because the truth is simple, and it pisses you off more than anything—you still like him.

Despite everything. Despite how he looked you in the eye and said he didn't feel the same. Despite how fucking humiliating that moment was. The feeling didn't just disappear. It didn't magically shut off like a switch. It stayed, always clinging to you no matter how much you tried to drown it out with training, exhaustion, or distance. It's normal. Feelings don't just go away overnight. You're not broken for still thinking about him.

...Are you crazy?

Not really. You've always been like this—your mind drifting back to things you once liked, replaying moments like they meant more than they probably did. You remember those stupid, simple days when it was just a harmless crush. When you'd catch yourself staring at him across the room, noticing the way his braces flashed when he smiled, how his eyes would light up behind his glasses whenever he talked about something he liked. It was easy back then. It was safe... nothing is complicated

And yeah—fuck it—you're not blind. He's not ugly. Not even close.

But the moment that thought settles, your expression twists, your own bitterness creeping back in like a bad habit you can't shake. Your mood shifts so fast it almost gives you whiplash. One second you're remembering something soft, the next you're clenching your jaw, your hands curling into fists. "God, how I hate nerds..." you mutter. "Stupid, fucking... face." You let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand through your hair as you lean back, staring at the ceiling.

Because no matter how good he looked, no matter how nice he seemed—You still kind of want to punch him. Hard.

"This card represents the burning love that you have right now. The two of you will communicate well, and maybe in the near future, both of you will not take the same path—but it will not be a reason for any separation. Either way, the fire around you will ignite and make your relationship stronger."

"Awww."

A chorus of coos makes your eye twitch. Rei actually sniffs, her hand hovering over her chest as her eyes glued to the three cards laid out in front of her. You stand there, arms loosely crossed, staring at the whole thing with a thinly veiled cringe, your lips pressing into a line as you take in the scene. The setup is just a small booth with a cloth-covered table, a deck of worn-out cards. It's part of the open house happening around Decelis, booths were scattered everywhere — whatever. You only ended up here because your coaches had some sudden emergency meeting, leaving you all with a free hour to waste. And somehow, this is where your team decided to spend it.

"Is that legit-legit?" Winter asks, wiggling her eyebrows as she leans closer to the table. The rest of your teammates crowd around too, forming a semi-circle, their attention completely hooked. You can already tell this is about to go south for you. They look too entertained.

"Take what resonates, leave what doesn't," the tarot reader replies calmly. You bet she said that line a hundred times already today. "I am just reading the cards and interpreting what it says."

"Well then," Winter grins, clearly already plotting something, "I'll pay three dollars and read my friend's love life!" Before you can even react, she drops the money into the jar and without hesitation, shoves you forward into the seat right in front of the table.

"Huh—?"

You barely get the chance to protest before hands are suddenly everywhere. Winter, Giselle, Ningning, and Karina are all close in, clapping their hands over your mouth, pushing you down into the chair as they giggle. "Don't ruin it!" "Just sit!" "We're curious!" they whisper loudly over each other, completely ignoring your muffled protests.

You glare at them, trying to pry their hands off, but they're annoyingly persistent. The tarot reader raises an eyebrow at the display but doesn't comment. Instead, she calmly begins shuffling the deck, her eyes flicking toward you for a brief moment—like she's assessing you, reading more than just your face. The cards slide smoothly between her fingers. Eventually, your teammates let go, though they stay close, practically leaning over your shoulders, their eyes glued to the table like.

Three cards are drawn and placed carefully in front of you. Two upright. One reversed.

You finally manage to sit properly, rubbing your jaw where they had covered your mouth, shooting them one last annoyed look before your attention drifts—despite yourself—back to the cards. You don't even believe in this shit.

"I see..." the girl starts, she leans slightly forward, studying the spread. Her brows knit together just a little, like something caught her attention. "Your partner is a very loving person... with genuine feelings."

Your nostrils flare almost immediately, your lips parting as your face twists into disbelief and annoyance. You don't even bother hiding it, and the way you can already feel the shift around you too—the girls who were leaning in with excitement just seconds ago are now deflating, their interest dropping as fast as it came. There's a collective sigh, obvious with disappointment. Of course. Because what partner? You don't have one. Everyone here knows that. This is exactly why you don't believe in this shit. It's all vague, all bullshit.

"The images around the cards represent someone who pays close attention to you... someone who puts in a lot of effort," the girl continues, unfazed by the obvious shift in energy. Your teammates exchange looks but no one interrupts her. Not yet. Well, there's still that tiny thread of curiosity keeping them quiet.

And then, unexpectedly, she pulls another card.

"Is your partner a Scorpio?"

"Hm." You respond flatly, barely even thinking about it, your attention already drifting as you inspect your nails.

"Right..." she murmurs anyway. "You're lucky. He is intensely passionate and deeply loyal to you—incredibly loyal and devoted. The kind of person who gives everything, but expects the same level of commitment in return."

You let out a short, dry snort at that, the word lucky hitting your ears wrong. Lucky? Yeah, fucking right. Every person who reads zodiac signs, tarot cards, whatever the hell this is—they always say the same shit.

"As expected with this reversed card," she continues, tapping the last one lightly, "it also reflects your partner's nature. Hesitant to open up. Someone who tests potential partners before fully letting them in... That's all!"

"God, I can't believe I wasted my three dollars," Winter mutters under her breath, already turning away with an annoyed huff. "She doesn't even have a boyfriend."

There's a ripple of agreement, the group starting to lose interest completely now, the moment clearly not living up to their expectations. One by one, they begin to shift away from the table, their attention already drifting to the next booth.

You don't move right away. Your eyes stay on the cards, before snorting. You push yourself up to the chair, breaking whatever stupid spell you almost fell into.

"Hope you had a long, healthy, happy relationship. Both of you deserve it. Thank you!" the girl chirps, already reaching for her jar. You watch her fingers flick through the bills. You huff under your breath, shaking your head as you step away.

Loving? Effort? Loyal? Hesitant? And what the fuck was that—Scorpio? You roll your eyes hard enough it almost hurts. You don't even know someone who's a Scorpio. Not a single one. The whole thing was a scam, and somehow people were eating that shit up like it was gospel. Good for them. Couldn't be you.

Your attention shifts fast—thank fuck!—dragged away by something actually worth your time. Wagyu barbecue. Your eyes light up, stepping closer like you're being pulled in. "Holy shit," you mutter under your breath, staring at the display, the marbling on the meat, the way it sizzles on the grill. And then you squint slightly. "That's a black sausage?" you mumble, half-confused, half-intrigued.

Food. At least food makes sense. You shift your weight, already pulling out money, already thinking about how that three dollars should've gone here instead of that tarot bullshit. You take a bite of something you bought, chewing absentmindedly, letting the flavors comfort you.

"What's with ya booth?" you ask casually as you drift along with your team, your voice blending into the noise as you hop from one stall to another, not really caring about anything except eating and not thinking. You clutch your food, biting, chewing, swallowing, moving. The others are loud, curious, energetic, and you are actually keeping up with them, as long as you have your food.

"Oh! The Civil Engineering Booth! What's the catch?!" Winter suddenly calls out.

Your drink goes down the wrong pipe, your throat burning as you cough, eyes watering as you bend slightly forward, one hand clutching your chest. "Shit—" you rasp, trying to breathe,  but it's already too late. Because when you look up, he's there.

Jake was standing right there!

Your mouth falls open slightly, breath catching again but for a completely different reason this time. He looks... different. Not drastically, not in a way that anyone else would probably point out, but you see it. Of course you fucking do, duh. His hair's a bit longer now, falling just slightly differently around his face, softening him in a way that makes your chest tighten. He's wearing this gray long sleeve under a blue polo, something that looks weird, considering the hot weather... Of course it is weird! But it doesn't. On him, it just works. It always fucking works. There's a camera slung over his nape too, resting against his chest.

Fuck. Your heart stutters. It actually fucking stutters. God, why is he so handsome, you wanna cry — STOP!

"Uh... we now have some kind of, you know... furniture and displays around your house?" Jake says, voice a little shaky, and you can hear it even from where you're standing. You hate that you can still recognize every little change in his tone. His eyes flick around, scanning the group, pausing briefly on jerseys, on faces—getting closer, closer—

And when you realize he's about to look at you— You turn your back, shoulders stiffening as you stare straight ahead. Your grip tightens around your food, knuckles whitening slightly as your heart starts pounding like it's trying to break out of your chest.

Stupid. Why the fuck did you turn your back? Your jersey has your surname printed on it! Dumb bitch!

You squeeze your eyes shut for half a second, internally cursing yourself out. Great. Fucking great. Out of all the booths, all the places, all the fucking timing—this is where you end up. You can feel it crawling under your skin, that restless, suffocating awareness that he's right there, that if you just turn your head a little, you'd see him clearly.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Karina whispers beside you. Her eyes are on you and it pisses you off a little because it means you're not hiding it as well as you thought. You don't answer immediately. You just stare ahead, blinking and forcing your breathing to even out.

"—Wow! A zodiac sign bracelet?! Where did you bought it?!" Winter suddenly blurts out, loud as hell. Just like that, the attention shifts, your teammates swarming forward like curious idiots, drawn to something shiny and new.

Jake attention is split. He's opening his lips to answer but his eyes keep dragging back to your turned back.

"I-It's fine. We had an agreement that we stick together so when we go back we don't have to message those who is missing—" you whisper back to Karina quickly. It sounds reasonable. It is reasonable.

"Uh... my friend from the Art Major booth, gave it to me..." Jake answers, still looking back and fourth to you.

"What sign is this again?" Giselle asks, reaching out to touch his wrist and raising it up to observe the bracelet.

"It's a— uh... a Scorpio." Jake replies.

"It's so obvious, babe! God, you are such a dumb sometimes." Ningning snorts.

"Shut it, girls! Well, Mr. uhh..." Rei cuts in, she squints down at the tag clipped to his shirt, leaning just a little too close. "Jake! Mr. Jake," she repeats with a grin, clapping her hands. "Can you take a picture of us as a team? We're off to Regionals in the next few weeks! And we look so fresh. Maybe we could use it for the journalist page if they upload a good luck post!"

Jake's attention was being dragged away again, redirected, and forced into your teammates again.

"Uh... sure..." Jake answers, his voice hesitant, or maybe it's just you hearing it differently now.

You don't turn. You don't dare turn. But you can imagine him nodding slightly, adjusting that stupid camera strap on his shoulder, probably pushing his glasses up out of habit.

"Great! Are you gonna upload it on your page?" Rei continues without missing a beat, already hyped and already moving.

"...The creatives are..." he starts, clearly trying to explain.

"That's great!" Rei cuts him off anyway, not even caring about the details, and turning her attention back to the group.

When is this gonna fucking end?

You shift your weight, foot tapping against the ground in small, impatient movements to distract you from the other thing—the bigger thing—you're trying so hard not to face. God! You can feel your teammates moving, adjusting, forming some kind of formation.

"Hello?! Number 9?!" Rei suddenly calls out, her voice snapping directly at you.

Fuck you! You want to curse out loud.

You inhale slowly, forcing your neutral expression before turning to move, not fully facing him yet, not looking at him, just stepping into position.

You settle at the side, arms crossing loosely, trying to make yourself smaller, less noticeable—

"Stop— what are you doing?!" Winter hisses immediately, grabbing your arm and dragging you without hesitation. "You should be in the middle! You're a libero and you had a different color of your jersey!" She pushes you right into the center.

Your feet plant as your body going stiff for a split second. You're right in front now, visible and now exposed. You were absolutely going to kill your teammates.

You don't look at him. You keep your gaze forward, somewhere just above the lens.

Jake bites his lip awkwardly, adjusting his stance behind the camera, fingers fumbling just slightly as he brings it up.

"Okay... uhm..." he mutters, trying to gather everyone's attention. "Just— stay still..."

Your chest tightens. You don't know why this feels harder than confronting him. You've faced him before. You've yelled at him. You've cried in front of him!

Standing here, pretending like nothing happened while he looks at you through a lens— God, this feels worse!

"Smile," he says.

You let yourself look straight at the camera, at the lens, at him behind it. Your lips lift automatically, forming a smile you've practiced a thousand times for games and pictures.

One second. Two. Five. Ten.

There's this weird stretch of silence beneath the noise, like something's off, like the moment isn't ending when it should. You don't move at first, still holding the pose out of habit, but then your brows knit slightly, your smile starting to falter at the edges. He's not lowering the camera. He's just... there. Watching through the lens like he forgot what he was supposed to do next.

"Uh... is it finished?" Ryujin finally asks, confused, a little impatient as she shifts her weight beside you.

That's when Jake seems to snap out of it.

"Oh—... sorry. Yes, we'll just upload it later," he says quickly, his voice stumbling over itself as he lowers the camera in a rush. He doesn't look at anyone because he turns his back almost immediately.

Your smile drops the second the camera is no longer pointed at you.

"Thank you!" your teammates chorus, already moving on, already distracted, their attention bouncing to the next booth.

"He looks so familiar, right? Had he participated or watched on VIP?" one of them asks absentmindedly as they walk.

You glance at Karina, and she's already looking at you. There's a split second where neither of you say anything. Her lips press together, holding it in, not saying shit for once, and you mirror it, your own mouth tightening as you look away first.

You bury it.

You bury him under the loud whistle of your coach that keeps ripping through the air and it's trying to split your skull open. Training hits harder than usual, or maybe it just feels that way because you're forcing yourself not to think about anything else. Your body moves on—run, receive, dive, stand, repeat. You're tired.

The coaches don't give a shit.

"Again!" the whistle blows, and you barely have time to straighten your back before another ball comes flying at you. Your arms sting from the impact, your knees burn from the constant drops, and your breathing is uneven, chest heaving as you try to keep up. They said you already had your break. One whole hour earlier, like that was supposed to be enough to carry you through the rest of this hell. Fucking hell.

You try to sneak a second to grab your water because your throat dry as shit, your hand already reaching for the bottle. You tilt it, barely getting a sip—

The coach slowly called out your name. You freeze mid-action, glancing up slowly. He was staring at you with his arm crossed, an obvious disappointment carried in his eyes.

You lower the bottle immediately, swallowing hard, your shoulders straightening as you put it down. "Sorry," you mutter under your breath, even if he didn't ask for it, even if he didn't say shit. You already know.

You're fucked.

"Oh my God! I can't imagine what will be the training if we actually win that and proceed to National. I'm gonna die," Ningning whines later as she collapses onto the bench like her soul just left her body.

You barely respond. You're sitting there, hunched slightly, pressing an ice pack against your bruised arm, then your thigh, then somewhere near your ribs where it hurts the most. The punishment was stupid. Straight up stupid. The coach made the team aim at you like you were some kind of target practice, all because you slipped up.

Dull throbs spreading under your skin, your body overly aware of every ache, every sting. It's not unbearable. But it's a lot.

"I'm so sorry," Karina says. She wraps her arms around you carefully, her hand hovering before gently touching one of your bruises.

You huff quietly, shifting a little but not pulling away. "It's okay," you mumble with your tired voice. You adjust the ice again, pressing it harder this time. "I just want to go home."

God, your body feels like absolute shit. Every step on the way home feels heavier than the last, like your muscles are dragging behind you instead of actually working with you. Your shoulders ache, your thighs burn, your arms feel like they've been beaten raw—and honestly, they kind of have. All you can think about is food. Then sleep—eight hours minimum, ten if the universe suddenly decides to stop screwing you over with morning classes. Maybe even a massage, yeah, that sounds fucking perfect, you'll drag Karina and Ryujin to a spa, waste money you probably shouldn't, just to feel human again.

By the time you get back to the apartment, your brain is running on fumes. You don't even bother turning on all the lights, just enough to see where you're going before you drop your bag onto the sofa with a dull thud. It's already 7:45 PM, you don't make it any further than the living room before you just... collapse. Your body gives in immediately, sinking into the couch, your head tilting back as you stare blankly ahead.

That's when you see it the jar. It was sitting there on the table like it's been waiting for you this whole time.

"...Oh, shit," you mutter under your breath, pushing yourself up just enough to look at it properly. The guppy swims lazily inside, existing in its own tiny world while you've been out getting your ass handed to you for days straight. You slide down from the couch to the floor, dragging yourself closer until you're sitting there, elbows on the table, your head almost resting against it as you stare at the fish.

"You're getting fat," you mumble, eyes half-lidded as you watch it move in slow circles. Your finger taps lightly against the glass. "Are you eating well?" you ask again, like it's actually going to answer you. You let out a quiet, tired laugh, shaking your head slightly. "Who's feeding you? That nerd is feeding you?"

You keep staring, your gaze softening despite yourself. "You better not have some kind of attachment issues," you add, "or you'll end up swimming in the river." Another quiet huff of laughter leaves you, but it's weak, fading quickly as exhaustion starts to take over again.

Your eyes slowly close. You don't even notice the small movement behind you. Bumble moves slowly, navigating its way toward you. It bumps lightly against your leg.

Bump. You don't react. It pauses, tilting slightly, then nudges you again, a little firmer this time, its rounded head pressing against your calf like it's trying to get your attention.

Bump. Still nothing. Your breathing has already evened out, your body too tired to respond, your mind slipping somewhere between awake and asleep.

"Hi?" it chirps. It waits patiently its little frame angled toward you like it expects something back. But you don't move. Not even a twitch.

After a few seconds of nothing, Bumble shifts, turning its body slowly toward the hallway, toward that door—the one that isn't yours, then it starts bumping into it. Soft, repetitive taps against the wood. The sound blends into your half-conscious state, like it's happening underwater.

The door creaks open.

And everything after that feels... wrong. Or maybe not wrong... just unreal. Your body feels too heavy, like it's sinking or like gravity suddenly decided to double its pull on you. Your thoughts drift in fragments, slipping away before they can form properly. Did you pass out?

It feels like a fever dream. Like you're floating, but also not. Like your body is there, but your mind is somewhere else entirely.

Cold. It's cold. There's something cold against you. It presses gently, carefully, and your body reacts before your brain does, leaning into it without hesitation. Your eyes try to open but they can't. Your limbs are now unresponsive, but the sensation continues, there was something so smooth brushing against your skin. It moves along your hair first, fingers...no, something like fingers—threading lightly through it, pushing it away from your face. Then your temple. Then your cheekbone.

Good. It feels good. You let out the faintest breath, your body instinctively leaning closer, chasing that touch without even realizing it. Your head tilts slightly, giving in, surrendering to the sensation. You need more.

When you wake up the next morning, the first thing that hits you isn't confusion—it's just this dull, heavy awareness that your body still fucking hurts. Your eyes crack open slowly, light slipping in through the curtains, and you blink at the ceiling like you're trying to remember something important... but nothing comes. There's no clear memory of how you got here, no moment of climbing into bed, no dragging yourself under the covers. You just... woke up here. Lying flat on your back, blanket half-thrown over your legs like you'd been placed there instead of settling in yourself.

You stare at it for a second. Then you shrug it off.

God, you don't even have the energy to question it.

What matters is—you actually slept. Your muscles still ache, your bruises still sting when you stretch, but it's manageable. "Fuck... I could've slept more," you mumble under your breath, dragging a hand over your face as you sit up slowly, joints protesting but not as violently as yesterday. You swing your legs off the bed, feet hitting the floor, and just sit there for a moment, letting yourself exist before the day starts kicking your ass again.

Routine pulls you out of your room without much thought.

You end up in the living room, eyes automatically landing on the jar sitting on the table. The guppy swims lazily inside, completely fine. You crouch down, tapping the glass lightly before feeding it, watching it dart toward the food.

"Geez, you're greedy," you mutter, a small huff leaving your nose.

Your gaze shifts slightly—to the side, and there you saw Bumble.  Sitting there quietly beside the jar, completely still.

You stare at it for a second. "...Weird," you mumble under your breath, brows pulling together slightly. Your shoulders lift in a small shrug, brushing it off. "Whatever."

You stand up, grabbing your things, pushing the thought aside as quickly as it came. There's no point overthinking stupid shit this early in the morning.

"Morning!" Rei greets the second you step into the court, her voice bright despite the early hour as she stretches her arms above her head.

"Morning... what's for breakfast?" you ask lazily, dropping your bag onto the bench before stretching your arms out.

"Hm?" Rei glances at you, thinking for a second before her face lights up. "I think 7/11 just restocked their Spam Kimchi Fried Rice, want to get some?"

You pause mid-stretch, considering it for half a second. "Okay... that's tolerable," you say with a small nod. "Let's grab some after stretching."

More of your teammates trickle in, chatter overlapping, energy building as you all go through warm-ups. By the time you finish, the decision is already made—food first.

The convenience store is crowded as usual, cold air hitting your skin the second you step inside, a welcome contrast to the heat outside. You grab a slurpee almost immediately, sipping from it as your teammates scatter around, grabbing whatever they want, talking over each other like always.

"Oh!" Karina suddenly exclaims, pointing toward a standee near the entrance. "They got Park Jongseong standee!"

You glance over briefly, unimpressed, sipping your drink. "Who the fuck is Park Jongseong?" you mutter, already looking away.

Karina gasps. "God, are you that outdated?! Park Jongseong is a rising actor! He's studying in Decelis and about to graduate!"

"Good for him," you mumble, clearly not giving a shit, taking another sip.

"Oh—look, the Engineering posted our photos!" Rei suddenly says, grabbing your attention as she waves her phone around.

All of you crowd around her immediately, squeezing in, shoulders bumping as you lean closer to see. The group photo pops up first. When Winter swipes to the next photo, her thumb dragging across the cracked screen with zero care, Karina gasps. Your brows knit together immediately.

"What?" you mutter, stepping closer, leaning in just enough to see the phone without fully committing to caring. But then you do see it—and... the fuck?

Ningning whined, completely missing the shift in your expression. "It's so unfair! How come you're always the favorite of photographers and sport journalists?!" she complains, nudging your shoulder.

You didn't even answer at all. Your eyes stay glued to the screen, locked onto that photo. It's you. Just you. Not the team, not the formation, not even a candid group moment—it's fucking you. Zoomed in. Cropped so tightly that Karina's arm is barely visible at the edge, Ryujin completely gone. You're smiling in it, relaxed, unaware. It's not a stolen blurry shot either—it's clear, it was focused... Intentional.

"What the fuck..." you breathe out.

Karina leans closer, squinting. "The man who took our photo isn't even a photographer or a sports journalist," she mutters, more to herself now, her voice dropping as her brain starts connecting dots you don't even want to acknowledge. "Oh God..." Her head slowly turns toward you, eyes widening.

"Don't start," you cut in immediately, your glare snapping to her before she can even open her mouth properly. You already know. You fucking know what she's about to say, and you're not in the mood for it.

But of course, Karina being Karina, she doesn't stop. "He likes you!" she blurts out anyway, her finger practically stabbing toward the screen.

Your jaw clenches so tight it almost hurts. "Are you fucking serious right now?" you snap, heat rising up your neck, not even sure if it's anger or something else. "I told you. He literally said he doesn't feel the same. Did you forget that part or—"

"Who likes who?" Giselle suddenly cuts in, sliding into the conversation, eyes bouncing between you and Karina with interest.

"Wait... so you had a talking stage but it failed? Tell us more!" Winter jumps in right after, leaning forward with way too much excitement, completely missing—or ignoring—the way your expression tightens.

Your mouth falls open, but nothing comes out at first. It's like the questions start stacking too fast, overlapping, tangling together until you can't even grab one to respond to. The noise builds again—voices piling on top of each other, reactions, assumptions, teasing—and suddenly it feels too loud for something that should've stayed quiet.

"So that guy who took our photo was the one you said that won't talk to you?" Ryujin adds, her brows lifting as she studies your face more carefully, like she's trying to confirm something she already suspects.

"...Wait," another voice cuts through. "You know Jake?" Yunjin asks with confusion as she looks at Ryujin first, then shifts her gaze to you. There's a pause, a beat where her expression sharpens slightly. "You know Jake?" she repeats.

Your mouth goes dry instantly. That name, coming from someone else, hits different. Your thoughts trip over each other, questions forming faster than you can process. How does she know him? Why does she sound like that? Why does it suddenly feel like you're missing a part of the story?

"Who's Jake?" Giselle tries to jump back in, but Ningning immediately slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide like she just realized this isn't just casual gossip anymore.

"J-Just... my roommate," you manage to say, the words coming out more stiff than you intend, your grip tightening around your drink again.

"So you know the guy that took our photo and didn't say anything about him?" Karina presses, throwing her hands up in disbelief.

Before you can even respond, Yunjin lets out a short, disbelieving scoff, stepping in. She raises her brows, one hand lifting slightly as she gestures midair. "It's so random to bring him up, duh?" she says in a mocking tone. "And he's boring as hell. What do you want me to say? How he dated one of my best friends in high school and completely turned into a distant asshole with zero emotional intelligence?"

"Ohhhh," the girls around you gasp almost in sync at the gossip.

Your stomach twists, you remember that conversation the way he mentioned he dated someone before, how it "didn't work out." He didn't elaborate. You didn't push. It felt unnecessary back then.

"Oh my," Yunjin continues, shaking her head like she's already over the topic, even though she's the one who dropped the bomb. "I didn't know you'd fall for that whole nerdy, quiet, introverted charm thing too." Her lips press. "He's a good guy, sure. I'll give him that. But he's not a good partner."

Your fingers loosen slightly around your cup. You find yourself staring at nothing—some random spot past Rei's shoulder, past the glass doors, past everything—because your mind is already somewhere else. Back to the quiet moments, the stupid small things, it pisses you off, because it shouldn't matter this much. It wasn't even anything official. It wasn't even real, right?

"It was just like a one-time thing," you say, forcing your voice to come out normal. You shrug one shoulder, like it's nothing. "He's just my roommate." Your lips stretch into something that resembles a smile. "I didn't like him that much. Don't worry, girls."

The silence that follows lasts barely a second before it gets filled again. "Well, you better not like him!" Ningning cuts in quickly, narrowing her eyes at you. She nudges your shoulder, then slaps your back lightly, the others chiming in with similar reactions. "With Yunjin's side story background, he's not a perfect match for you!"

"Yeah, seriously," Winter adds, shaking her head like she's already made up her mind about him. "We don't support bad decisions."

You nod along anyway, letting them have it, letting them believe it. It's easier that way.

But Karina doesn't let it go. "Wait—no, that doesn't make sense," she hisses, leaning closer to you. "It was obvious that he likes you!" Her finger taps against Rei's phone again, like she needs to remind you of the evidence sitting right there. "I mean, look at that picture alone! That's not normal!"

You roll your eyes. "It's just a picture, Karina. Stop overthinking—"

"And what if he does?" Ryujin suddenly cuts in. She flicks Karina's forehead lightly, making her hiss in protest. "Stop pushing her again if it's just going to hurt her more."

Karina frowns, rubbing her forehead, but she doesn't argue back immediately. Ryujin's gaze shifts to you. "It doesn't matter if he likes her or not," she continues. "He already caused enough damage." She pauses for a second, like she's choosing her words carefully, but the bluntness is still there. "He's not man enough to stand by whatever the hell he's feeling right now."

You let out a small breath through your nose, shaking your head like you're brushing it all off, even if it doesn't actually go away. Whatever. They're right. All of them, in their own loud, messy way—they're right. You shouldn't be this stressed over something that was never even labeled, never even defined. It wasn't a relationship. It wasn't anything serious. It was just... something that happened. Something that ended. That should be it.

He made his point right there, standing in front of you. It shouldn't matter anymore after that. It should've killed whatever stupid hope was growing inside you before it even had the chance to become something real.

So why the fuck does it still hurt like this? You're just lonely. That's it, right? That's the easiest explanation. You got used to him being there—his presence, his voice, the small routines you didn't even notice forming until they were gone. You got used to someone paying attention, even in his awkward, quiet way. Of course it's going to feel empty now. Of course it's going to sting.

It doesn't mean it was love. You're just lonely.

Feed the fish, eat a lot of protein, train until your legs feel like they're about to give out, drag yourself to class, pretend you're listening, go home, sleep like you're dead. Avoid Jake.

Feed the fish, eat a lot of protein, train harder, push through the soreness, ignore the bruises blooming under your skin, keep your head down, don't think too much. Avoid Jake.

Feed the fish, eat a lot of protein, train, study, sleep, avoid Jake.

"I know you're busy but the... uh... water bill payment is due..."

Oh. Right.

Bills. Responsibilities. Actual life shit that doesn't revolve around your messy, unresolved feelings. Not everything is about you spiraling over some guy who couldn't even look you in the eye after fucking you.

You click your tongue softly under your breath and bend down to tie your shoelaces, using the motion as an excuse to avoid looking at him. Your fingers move quickly,  even if your chest feels tight again just from his presence being this close. Without thinking too much about it, you reach into your wallet and pull out crumpled bills, extending your hand toward him without lifting your gaze.

"Here," you mutter, handing him the fifteen dollars.

There's a split second where your hand lingers midair, and you mentally curse yourself for even noticing it. You pull back immediately, wiping your palm against your shorts. Your eyes drop back to your wallet, flipping it open again out of habit—and that's when it hits you. It's fucking empty. Well, not completely empty, but close enough. You stare at it longer than you should, your brows knitting together slightly. All that extra food, all the random shit you've been buying just to distract yourself—it adds up.

You don't even realize Jake's looking at it too. When you finally glance up and catch him staring, your expression shifts instantly. You snap the wallet shut and clear your throat like you've been caught doing something embarrassing.

"That would be enough, right?" you say nonchalantly, like you didn't just expose how broke you are. You sling your training bag over your shoulder, adjusting the strap. "I mean, I'm mostly at the city meet anyway. I didn't even use water for, like, almost two weeks."

Jake blinks behind his glasses. His gaze flickers from your face to your bag, then back again. "Y-Yeah... sure," he answers.

You're the one who looks away first. "Okay," you say quickly, already stepping back. "I'll get going." You turn slightly, ready to leave.

"Actually—"

His voice stops you mid-step. You pause, slowly, you turn your head, glancing back at him over your shoulder, one brow lifting just slightly, your expression already guarded like you're expecting something you won't like.

"N-N-Nothing," he stutters, the word tripping over itself the second your eyes meet his.

He folds into himself again. His shoulders draw inward, his posture shrinking like a snail going back to it's shell. His gaze drops almost as quickly as it met yours.

You purse your lips, holding back whatever reaction tries to surface, and give him a small, absent nod instead. For a brief moment, his eyes linger on your face, like he's searching for something in your expression that isn't there anymore. That's the part that hits him the hardest—that look you used to give him when things were still normal, when you were still figuring each other.

Are you... okay now?

The door shuts behind you. Jake doesn't move right away. He just stands there, staring at the empty space where you were a second ago.

Then suddenly, like something inside him snaps, he steps back and lets his head hit the wall. His breath comes out uneven, his fingers curling into fists before loosening again, like he doesn't even know what to do with his own body. Then he does it again. And again. And again. Each impact a little harder. Why can't he talk? Why the fuck can't he just say something when it matters?

His jaw tightens, teeth grinding as frustration builds in his chest. He pulls back once more and this time hits the wall harder than before, the sting shooting through his skull—and that's when it hits him. A flash of memory flodded into his mind.

Suddenly, he's not here anymore. Suddenly, he's back at high school.

"I know I'm not like the best partner either," Kazuha says. Jake's mouth goes dry as he stares at her, his brain lagging behind the moment like it's refusing to process what's happening.

It's a random Tuesday. And yet here she is, standing in front of him, ending something he didn't even realize was breaking.

"You're a good guy, Jake," she continues, her hands clasped together in front of her. "I appreciate and love every moment we spent with each other. Thank you for that..." She pauses. "But it's better if we part ways."

Her words just... float there, Jake goes completely still. His shoulders draw in, shrinking instinctively, an action he always do if he's trying to make himself smaller. His eyes flicker away from her for a second, scanning the space around them—the hallway, the passing students, the distant chatter. What if they were listening?

His fingers start fidgeting again, restless, rubbing against each other over and over. His heart is beating too fast. His head is too loud. There are too many thoughts forming all at once, piling up, overlapping, choking each other out before they can even become words.

"Are you..." Kazuha starts, her brows pulling together slightly as she looks at him. "...not gonna say anything?"

Jake looks at her then. Her eyes are glossy—not crying, not yet, but close enough. Waiting. Expecting something. Anything.

And fuck, he wants to say something. He wants to ask why. Wants to understand what he did wrong. Wants to tell her he tried—that he followed everything right, didn't he? He carried her bag, walked her home, remembered dates, bought flowers during monthsaries, gave her chocolates even when he didn't know if she liked them. He paid attention. He listened. He stayed. He liked her. Wasn't that... enough?

The words pile up in his throat, pressing, pushing, demanding to be let out—but when he opens his mouth, nothing comes. His mind goes blank.

Completely, fucking blank. Jake swallows, his hands starting to sweat, his fingers twitching uselessly at his sides. Panic creeps in, tightening around his chest as the silence stretches too long. He knows he should speak. He knows this is the moment. He knows if he says nothing, it's going to end like this.

And still, he can't. His lips part slightly, but instead of words, all that comes out is a shallow breath. His gaze drops, unable to hold hers any longer, and slowly, almost helplessly, he shakes his head.

Not because he doesn't care. But because he doesn't know how to say that he does.

"Bro, you fumbled a baddie so bad. Tsk, tsk, tsk."

Sunghoon's leaning back on the bench. The ice rink behind them glows under harsh white lights. It's normal. Everything is normal.

Except Jake. He's sitting there, hunched forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the ground. Jay walks in not long after, still dressed from whatever commercial shoot he just wrapped up, dropping his bag beside them. He takes one look at Jake and already knows something's off, his brows pulling together slightly before he exhales.

"You don't even try to chase her?" Jay asks. He leans forward a bit. "You know girls like that. If you show any effort, she might come back."

Jake doesn't respond. His gaze stays locked on the floor. His fingers twitch again, restless, picking at nothing, repeating the same useless motion over and over.

"Actually..." Sunghoon cuts in, shifting his posture as he glances between them. "You know ballet and figure skates train together, right? I overheard something..."

Jake's fingers pause for a second.

"...like uh..." Sunghoon continues, scratching the back of his neck, "she said you don't initiate anything. Like—holding hands, saying stuff... you're just too quiet." He glances at Jake briefly before looking away again. "She said she doesn't feel the 'love'." He even does the air quotes, emphasizing the word.

Jake's chest tightens, but he still doesn't move.

"I mean, I can see you putting in effort," Sunghoon adds quickly, like he's trying to balance it out. He leans over and throws an arm around Jake's shoulder, giving him a brief squeeze. "You do shit. You're there. That counts." He exhales, shaking his head. "Social media standards are ruining relationships, I swear."

"No, don't say that," Jay glares at Sunghoon. "Of course women are sensitive. Sometimes they just... misunderstand actions if we don't say anything. That's normal."

"Yeah, but that's what they call 'words of affirmation', right?" Sunghoon scoffs, pulling his arm back. "What if our Jekjek here just sucks at that? Not everyone's built like that." He shrugs, leaning back again. "They should accept that too. We're not all gonna be talking sweet 24/7. That shit's exhausting."

"Yes, we can," Jay replies without missing a beat, "If we love our girl, we can." His eyes flicker to Sunghoon briefly. "You're just saying that because you're not in a relationship."

"Hey—"

Ever since he was a child, Jake already knew there was something off about the way he spoke—or more like, the way he couldn't. It wasn't that he didn't have thoughts. Fuck, his head was always loud, always full of things he wanted to say, things he wanted to ask, things he wanted to explain. But the moment it had to pass through his mouth, it got stuck somewhere in his throat, tangled, choked out before it could even become words.

He remembers it too clearly, standing in front of the class, small hands clenched at his sides, his teacher smiling patiently while the rest of the room just... waited. Five minutes. A full five minutes of silence just because he couldn't say his own name. He could feel their eyes on him, hear the faint shifting of chairs, the quiet whispers starting to build. His mouth opened, closed, opened again—but nothing came out except shaky breaths. It felt like drowning without water.

And yet... he wasn't bullied.

That's the part he always comes back to. He was lucky. Somehow, he was lucky. The kids didn't tear him apart for it, didn't laugh in his face the way he feared they would. Some of them even waited for him, awkwardly, patiently, like they didn't mind the silence as much as he did. He carried that with him growing up—that quiet kind of relief. By the time he reached high school, he even managed to find people who stayed. Friends who filled in the gaps when he couldn't speak fast enough, who didn't push him too hard when he shut down. He had Sunghoon. He had Jay. He had... something close to normal.

And somehow, somehow, he even got lucky enough to have a pretty girlfriend. Pretty, warm, expressive—everything he wasn't. Someone who chose him despite the way his words always came out broken, incomplete, late. It felt unreal. Like he had somehow skipped steps, like life handed him something he didn't fully know how to hold. But he tried, he really did. In the ways he knew how.

He remembers the Art Therapy sessions clearly too. The therapist had a soft voice that didn't rush him, didn't pressure him into speaking when he couldn't. If you can't say it, they told him once, show it. There are other ways to communicate. And Jake held onto that.

Now it feels like a fucking lie. Because if that was enough... then why does it keep ending like this?

Maybe out of all things, love was the most unlucky thing he'd ever stumble into. Everything else in his life had eventually fallen into place—his academics were solid, his routines were structured, his small circle of friends stayed consistent. He knew what to expect, knew how to function, knew how to exist without fucking things up too badly. It wasn't perfect, but it was stable. He was content with that kind of life, the kind where nothing felt too overwhelming, where nothing demanded more from him than what he could actually give.

And somewhere along the way, after high school, after that quiet, unresolved breakup that still lingered in the back of his head, Jake made a decision without really announcing it to anyone.

He wasn't going to fall in love again.

Not because he didn't believe in it but because he clearly didn't know how to do it right.

"And with that, Number 9 saves the day with her vampire speed! Decelis Academy earns another point!"

Jake remember he was 18, on his 12th Grade. The gym was loud that day, packed with students, and huge energy that Jake wasn't used to being around. He didn't even plan on being there. Jay practically dragged him along, insisting it would be "good exposure" or whatever reason he came up with as the school ambassador. Jake didn't argue. He just followed, sitting stiffly on the bleachers, hands resting awkwardly on his knees as he tried to ignore how overwhelming everything felt.

Until he saw you.

It was sudden. Like his brain just locked onto you without asking for permission. A beautiful you in a white jersey and short shorts.

You were already in motion when his eyes found you, your body low to the ground as you received the ball. Your movements were sharp but fluid, fast in a way that made it hard to follow. One second you were on one side of the court, the next you were diving—literally throwing yourself onto the floor without hesitation, arms stretched out, saving a ball that should've been impossible to reach.

Jake blinked. Then leaned forward slightly without realizing it.

You got back up like it didn't hurt. And then it kept happening. You ran. You slid. You split just to receive the ball with your foot, and the crowd lost it. Your teammates shouted your name, your energy feeding into theirs, your presence pulling the entire court together like you were the center of it all. There was nothing hesitant about you. Every move you made had purpose, had confidence, had this raw, fearless intensity that Jake couldn't even begin to understand.

You looked... unreal. Not just pretty. Not just attractive. You looked alive in a way he had never seen before.

Your hair stuck slightly to your face from sweat, your jersey clinging just enough to show the strain of your movements, your legs marked with faint bruises like proof of how hard you played—and still, you kept going. You jumped, arms raised, eyes locked on the ball like nothing else in the world mattered in that moment.

Jake couldn't look away. It's just admiration. Nothing more. The kind of thing people feel when they see someone good at something, someone... bright in a way that makes the rest of the room feel dimmer. That's all it is.

Jake had no plans to actually talk to you. No plans to get closer.

Because it was funny, almost ridiculous, to even imagine it. You—this gorgeous varsity player everyone seemed to orbit around—talking to him? Someone who usually blended into the background unless someone actively looked at him.

When the game finally ended, the noise of the crowd didn't immediately fade. Jake followed Jay down from the bleachers toward the court level. People were already gathering around, phones out.

And there you were. Right in the middle of it.

Jake remembers that part clearly—not just seeing you, but watching you. The way your eyes moved around like you were trying to process the sudden attention instead of expecting it. You looked slightly confused, as if you didn't fully understand why everyone was crowding you. There was a faint awkwardness in the way you smiled, rubbing the back of your neck as people kept approaching.

"Can we take a picture?"

"Just one more!"

"Hey, great game!"

And you didn't refuse any of it. You just... accepted it. Laughing awkwardly here and there, nodding too quickly sometimes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as your teammates got pulled into other groups of students. You weren't dismissive. You weren't annoyed. You didn't act like it was a burden. You just went along with it, like it hadn't fully registered yet that this level of attention was normal for you.

Little kids tugging at your sleeve. Students from other schools calling your name. Boys—more boys than Jake expected—hovering nearby, waiting for their turn like it was something they had to earn.

Jay nudged him. "Want to take a picture with her?" he asks casually. Jake's eyes almost widen immediately. His entire body stiffens for a second. Heat creeps up his neck as he quickly shakes his head.

"H-Huh?" he stutters, voice cracking slightly, before he shakes his head more firmly this time. "N-No."

Jay just grins at him like he already knows. "Come on," Jay says, tapping his back lightly, dragging him forward with easy confidence. "Let's take a picture. She might get famous internationally one day. Did you see her skills?"

Jake doesn't answer. But his feet still move. His eyes—no matter how many times he tries to pull them away—keep drifting back toward you. It's frustrating in a quiet way, like his focus is being stolen without permission. Every time he looks away, he ends up looking right back again.

"Hey, my name is Jay. Nice game, by the way."

Jay steps forward first as he approaches you, holding out a hand. Jake lingers half a step behind him, suddenly aware of everything—his posture, his breathing, the fact that he probably looks like he doesn't belong anywhere near this interaction. You turn toward them, still slightly flushed from the match. Even like this, even when you're clearly tired, there's something about you that doesn't soften. Beautiful. God, you were do damn beautiful.

"Hi, Jay. Thank you? I guess?" You give a small smile, polite but slightly awkward.

Oh God. Up close, it's worse. Not in a bad way—no, not even close. You're intimidating, so fucking pretty! Jake can feel himself shrinking without moving. It doesn't make sense logically—he's taller than you, standing right there, physically closer than most people in the crowd—but mentally, he feels small, your presence fills the space too easily. Like there's no room left for him to exist normally inside it.

"Mind if we take a picture?" Jay asks again, gesturing lightly between the three of you.

"Sure."

Jay immediately shifts closer, guiding the position. And then it happens, you lift your arm and swing it around Jake's back as you settle into place for the photo.

Jake freezes for half a second. Your hand is warm through the fabric of his shirt, you're completely unbothered. But to him, it feels like something entirely different—like a switch being flipped inside his brain. His posture stiffens immediately, shoulders locking up, breath catching slightly as he tries very hard not to react in a way that would make this weird.

But you don't seem to notice. You're just standing there, in the middle of them, smiling naturally now as the camera is raised. Jay is talking about angles or something, adjusting positions, but Jake can barely process it. His mind is too focused on the fact that you are there. Close enough to touch. Close enough to hear breathe. Close enough that if he turned his head slightly, he would be looking directly at you instead of trying not to.

And somehow—completely out of character for him—Jake finds himself smiling.

The camera clicks.

And for a fraction of a second, everything feels suspended—like the world pauses just long enough for him to exist in that moment without overthinking it.

Afterward, Jay steps back, already shifting into casual conversation again, but Jake stays still for a beat longer. His eyes flick briefly toward you again, then away, then back again like a broken reflex he can't fix.

This is nothing. He will eventually forget you. He is sure of that. This feeling—whatever it is—temporary.

Years passed, and Jake ended up exactly where everyone expected him to be—Engineering, decent grades, still had a stable routine. He had a scholarship that eased the financial pressure on his parents. His life, for the most part, had become structured in a way he could actually manage: classes, assignments, study sessions. His parents were still supportive, calling every now and then, reminding him to take care of himself.

Sunghoon was still skating, still grinding through competitions under Decelis. Jay, on the other hand, had started shifting into modeling, acting, random opportunities that slowly turned into actual industry attention. It was strange watching them all move forward in different directions while still somehow staying within reach. Jake stayed in touch with them.

The only thing that didn't quite fit into place was the dorm situation inside Decelis.

It was strict. Too strict in some ways, and ironically not strict enough in others. There were rules—curfews, schedules, restrictions—but somehow the environment still felt messy. People breaking curfew, doors opening and closing late at night, voices echoing down hallways when he was trying to study. His sleep schedule was constantly getting disrupted, his focus breaking at the worst possible times. He couldn't properly revise after a certain hour, couldn't rest when he needed to, couldn't even sit in silence without someone disturbing it in some way.

The only dormmate he had ever managed to properly communicate with was Heeseung.

They weren't close in a dramatic sense, but they understood each other in a way that made living together tolerable. Same academic field, similar mindset—a little detached from the noise around them. Heeseung was the kind of person who could spend hours building something without feeling the need to fill the silence with unnecessary conversation.

"Apartment complex on the streets of the Avenue," Heeseung said one afternoon, barely looking up from the small robot he was dismantling on his desk. "There's a lot of listings for people looking for roommates. Pros—two to three rooms, so you can have your own space."

Jake listened quietly from his bed, one hand resting on his notes, the other scrolling lazily on his phone without really absorbing anything. He tilted his head slightly at the explanation, already interested at the idea.

"Cons," Heeseung continued, pausing to adjust a tiny wire, "it's expensive. And there's like a ninety percent chance you end up with a girl roommate."

Jake blinked. Then looked up properly. "What's wrong with having a girl roommate?" he asked, genuinely confused, like he had missed a very important piece of information somewhere in the logic.

Heeseung finally glanced at him, expression flat, like this was obvious information that didn't need elaboration. "Tension will be too high," he said simply, shrugging one shoulder as he went back to his work. "You might fuck and then everything gets complicated emotionally."

Jake stared at him for a second."...What?"

Heeseung didn't even react much, just continued tightening a screw. "It happens."

Jake leaned back slightly, processing that in the most literal, disconnected way possible. His brain tried to compute it like a formula—input, output, consequence—but it didn't really connect to anything in his actual life experience. He had never thought about roommates in that way. Never even considered that possibility as something that could happen just because two people shared a space.

All he wanted was simple.

A place where he could breathe. A place where no one slammed doors at midnight, where he could actually study before eight without interruptions, where silence wasn't something he had to fight for. The gender of the roommate didn't matter to him.

"Isn't it better than five guys in a dorm anyway?" Jake muttered after a moment, more to himself than to Heeseung. "At least it's quieter."

Heeseung gave a short hum in response, still focused on the robot in his hands. "Probably."

Oh boy—Jake should've listened to Heeseung's cons.

Because the moment he signed the roommate application, everything somehow spiraled into something wayyyyy more complicated. Peace was all he wanted. That was all it was supposed to be. But then reality hit in a way he didn't calculate for, because he didn't know—he genuinely didn't know—that the roommate he'd been assigned was you, until the interview.

And the worst part was how his eyes kept betraying him. He'd look away too late, glance too long, get caught in places he shouldn't be looking at all. Your body, it was like how visible everything felt to him. And yeah—your ass included.

God, you looked different. It was accumulation. Your arms—stronger, more defined, muscle sitting tight under your skin. Your back was broader, posture solid, like you were always mid-motion even when you were just standing there reaching for something in the kitchen. It made sense. You were an athlete. This was normal. Of course, you train, you look like that. That's just how bodies works.

Every interaction made it worse, not better. There was no adjustment period, no gradual easing into comfort, he was stuck being watched even when you weren't looking at him.

The day you walked into the living room and caught him sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scattered Lego pieces, he felt the spike of embarrassment that didn't fade. You didn't even say anything weird, just paused, looked, maybe a little curious. But to Jake, it meant too much.

Same with the time your eyes drifted over his Hot Wheels lined up on the shelf. It wasn't judgment, not really, but his brain filled in the gaps anyway.

And then the conversations—if they could even be called that. Something as stupid as the water bill turned into a full-body experience for him. Words sticking, fingers twitching, shifting his weight like he couldn't find a stable position to stand in. He'd rehearse sentences in his head and still mess them up the second they came out. And every time, without fail, there was that lingering thought afterward: You thinks he's weird. Or worse—you knows he's a loser.

No. People could think whatever they wanted; it didn't change anything... But this didn't sit the same way. Not when it came to you. Because for some reason, he didn't want you filing him away like that, reducing him to the guy sitting on the floor snapping LEGO pieces together or lining up Hot Wheels. There was more.

If he could just say it properly, without his words tripping over themselves, he could explain it. He could tell you about his grades, how he ranked near the top without making noise about it, how he could cook actual meals. He could show you something real.

But instead, all of that stayed stuck in his head, piling up into this silent, useless argument that never reached his mouth. And —why did it even matter enough for him to sit there mentally listing reasons like he had something to prove to you?!

"Wow, lucky you."

Heeseung's mouth literally dropping open as Jake pointed toward the massive tarpulin hanging across campus with your face printed on it.

"She's my roommate."

Heeseung looked back at him, then at the tarpulin again. But Jake... Jake didn't react the same way. His posture straightened just a little. His expression shifted without him realizing it, mouth pulling into something that edged too close to pride—almost arrogant, like he had some kind of claim. He didn't even notice it happening. Didn't catch the way the idea of being linked to you—even in something as basic as living in the same apartment—make him feel good.

"So, did you two fuck?" a question that exactly the kind of thing Heeseung would throw out without thinking twice. And just like that, whatever expression Jake had dropped instantly.

"N-No, what the—?!" Jake voice cracking slightly as his face heated up in seconds. The flush spread across his cheeks, down his neck, his brain short-circuiting in the worst way possible because his thoughts betrayed him, flashing something he didn't ask for. He physically flinched, hand coming up to smack the side of his own head like he could knock it out. "What the hell are you even saying?"

"I embarrassed myself because she caught me messing with Whitey," he added quickly as he shot Heeseung a glare, redirecting the conversation to something else. The robot sat unfinished in his mind.

Heeseung didn't miss a beat. "Okay," he snorted, shaking his head with a grin, "good to know you are never gonna get fucked by that girl."

Of course not.

You were intimidating—still intimidating in the exact same way you were the last time he saw you a year ago, except now it felt worse because you were closer. It wasn't just that you were attractive. It was the way it came with presence that made it hard to relax around you. Your eyes didn't help either— too easy to get lost in if he looked too long. And that was the problem. He wanted to look, to hold it for more than a second, to prove to himself he could act normal—but every time he tried, something in him pulled back too fast.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" You ask him too blunt as he just handle you the advance payment.

"H-huh?" His face went red almost instantly, color blooming across his cheeks as he fumbled with the fabric of his pajama pants, wiping his hands over and over. "I—I don't have..." he said quietly, trailing off as if the sentence itself embarrassed him.

Wait—why would you even ask that? Followed by another question. Are you... interested? Or just curious? That didn't make sense. There was no reason for you to be interested. He barely talked to you, barely functioned normally around you. So why ask? Unless it didn't mean anything. Unless he was reading into it again. It was random. You weren't even that close, barely past basic conversations....

Jake tried not to think about it, tried to force his attention onto anything else, but you cut straight through that fragile effort by suddenly starting another conversation, casually asking what you both should order for dinner while he adjusted Whitey. You were so fucking close. It is overwhelming, scrambling his thoughts. Oh fuck. You were too close—it was going to make him lose his goddamn mind, and all he could think, over and over, was how you smelled—sweet, distracting, pretty, pretty, pretty.

He was barely breathing, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder like looking at you directly might short-circuit him. "Uh... I already ate," he repeated, voice dropping smaller.

"Oh."

Before you could say something, he stood abruptly, movement jerky, still refusing to meet your eyes as he pointed vaguely toward his room. "I—I need to, uh... I have something to do," he said, bowing slightly out of pure habit before retreating.

The moment the door shut behind him, Jake nearly let out a broken whine, his hands went straight to his hair, fingers gripping hard. He exhaled shakily, trying to calm himself, but it wasn't working. His dick was fucking hard— it got fucking hard!

And the third time you initiated something, Jake swore he was probably seconds away from going completely brain dead. He'd been crouched over another half-disassembled robot that Heeseung had dropped off earlier. You appeared again, stepping into his space. Jake would never forget the way you set the ramen down beside him with those pretty smile, and how easily you started talking about your life like none of the tension from before had ever existed.

"Sometimes I wish I was smart instead of just... sport-inclined," you admitted with a half-laugh, slumping your shoulders for emphasis. "Like, what the hell am I supposed to do after I decide I'm done with volleyball?"

Jake wanted to respond. He wanted to tell you that being sport-inclined wasn't something lesser, that there was nothing wrong with it, nothing lacking or incomplete about who you were. He wanted to say he envied you, in a way—your strength, the way you moved through things without hesitating, how you seemed fearless and independent in ways he couldn't quite reach. He wanted to tell you that if you ever got tired of volleyball, there were still so many things waiting for you, paths you could take without losing yourself—but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.

"I'm done for now," you said abruptly, when you notice he isn't talking, you clacked your chopsticks against the plastic before snapping the lid shut, forcing a smile that felt stiff on your face. You stood, shoved the ramen into the fridge with more force and retreated to your room, closing the door behind you.

Jake stayed exactly where he was, staring at nothing, and again, he let out a frustrated exhale, dragging a hand down his face.

When you stopped talking to him, Jake felt it like something collapsing inward. The last time you asked him anything beyond the bare minimum was when he'd come out of the shower early, and you'd only glanced his way long enough to ask if he was done. And after that... nothing. You slipped back into your usual colder distant self—only asking about rent, keeping your eyes anywhere but on him, cutting off any chance for conversation before it could no even start.

"Well, what do you expect?" Heeseung scoffed from across the room, not even bothering to look up at first as he leaned back in his chair, one leg stretched out while he worked on programming the robot in front of him—Bumble, Jake's old Grade 12 project that he'd decided to mess with again. "She's basically just talking to a wall, you want her to keep trying? You think you're that special?" He finally glanced over then, eyebrow raised, unimpressed.

"No! I—I understand her," Jake shot back quickly, his shoulders slumping almost immediately after as if the effort alone drained him. His hands fidgeted uselessly in his lap, fingers curling and uncurling as he struggled to keep his thoughts from tangling. "I just... I wish I could talk about things too... you know... like, actually say stuff... share..." His voice trailed off toward the end, shrinking.

"Booo," Heeseung dragged out mockingly, not missing a beat as he tilted his head back with exaggerated disappointment. "Stop wishing and actually try for once. Jesus, it's not that deep." He flicked a small tool across the desk toward Jake, though it stopped short, clattering uselessly against the surface. "You're just making excuses at this point."

"Why would I?" Jake asked, stubborn in a way that felt more defensive than confident, his gaze dropping to the floor. "It's better this way."

Heeseung's eyebrow lifted slightly at that. And the truth was, Jake had already accepted it—accepted that talking, is... super hard . His social anxiety had settled into him so deeply that the people around him had just adapted, learned to expect less, learned not to wait for him to say anything. Sometimes he wished it wasn't like that, wished he could just... function normally, speak without overthinking every word—but wishing didn't change anything, and he knew it.

So who the hell was he kidding? Himself, apparently.

Because the moment he started working on improving Bumble—adding a small camera, linking it directly to his phone so he could control what it saw and how it moved—he found himself doing something he couldn't even justify. Sitting on his bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen like an idiot while waiting for the front door to open. It was 7:30 PM. You usually got home around that time. The second he heard the faint click of the lock, he straightened up instantly, heart kicking a little harder as his eyes locked onto the live feed.

The door opened, and there you were—stepping inside, unaware and Jake immediately triggered the robot.

"Hi," he said softly into his phone, knowing the word would come out through Bumble in that slightly distorted.

He stayed hidden where he was, safely out of sight, using the robot as a shield between him and you. On the screen, you paused, your expression shifting into confusion as you looked down at Bumble, clearly not suspecting anything, because why the hell would you? To you, it was just a small, harmless robot—not him.

Jake let out a quiet, breathy giggle, biting down on his fist to keep himself from smiling too wide as he watched you respond. Sometimes you greeted it back, and other times you crouched down, kneeling in front of Bumble as your fingers gently brushed over its surface. And every time you did, you ended up looking straight into the camera without realizing it—your eyes filling his screen so suddenly it made his chest tighten. God, your eyes were so fucking beautiful. You were so beautiful. He kicked his feet lightly against the edge of his bed, barely containing the energy buzzing through him, his grin hidden behind his hand as he watched you a little longer than he probably should have.

One time, Jake watched you through his screen as you stepped into your room and quietly closed the door behind you. He lingered there for a moment, thumb hovering over the controls before he slowly guided Bumble away, sending it rolling through the hallway in slow, absent circles.

He kept moving, turning corners, drifting past furniture with no real direction. But then your door creaked open again, and Jake reacted instantly, fingers tightening as he jerked the controls, turning Bumble around so fast it almost tipped before he steadied it and followed you.

The movement was too uncoordinated—he wasn't paying attention to anything except you—and his phone slipped right out of his hand, dropping straight onto his face with a sharp, painful smack.

"Nghh—!" he choked out, the impact rattling his teeth as one of the brackets on his braces snapped loose, sending a jolt of pain through his jaw. But he barely had time to even react, because the screen was still on, angled just enough for him to see.

You were in the kitchen now, dressed in short shorts and a loose crop top that rode up just enough when you moved, exposing more than he'd ever seen before.

You bent slightly over the counter, focused on your phone while absentmindedly eating snacks, completely unaware of the tiny camera pointed in your direction. From that angle—he could see the curve of your body so clearly it made his head spin, the fabric of your shorts riding up just enough to reveal the soft outline of your ass.

"No..." he breathed, his chest tightening as his eyes stayed glued to the screen.

His gaze flickered downward for a second, and that only made it worse, because his body had already reacted before he could stop it. His dick was hard. Fucking hard.

"No—no, no..." he muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a second like it might erase the image that was already stuck in his mind. His face throbbed where the phone had hit him, his teeth aching from the loose bracket he knew would cost a shit ton to fix, but none of that compared to the way his body refused to calm down.

"I'm sorry," he whined under his breath, almost desperate as he grabbed his phone again with shaky hands. He didn't even look properly this time—just caught a brief, blurry glimpse of you still there on the screen before he fumbled with the controls and shut Bumble off completely. The feed cut to black instantly, leaving him staring at his own reflection instead, wide-eyed and flushed, breathing unevenly.

Jake's hands moved quickly, tugging his pajama pants down in a rush. He hadn't even bothered with boxers, and the cool air hitting his skin only made everything feel more intense than it already was. His toes curled against the sheets as his hand wrapped around himself, eyes squeezing shut like that might dull the image burned into his head—but it didn't, not even a little.

If anything, it made it worse, the memory replaying in fragments, the way you bent slightly, the way your body looked so fucking sexy.

His breathing turned uneven until it was harder to control as his grip tightened on his cock. The thought of grabbing his phone again, to open Bumble, tempting. But it feels morally wrong, of course he has a conscience!

A quiet whine slipping out as the image of you catching him—actually realizing what he'd been doing with Bumble—flashed through his head.

"Oh God," he breathed, the words breaking unevenly as his stomach clenched hard at the thought. Why is he getting off at the thought of being caught?! Now he really felt like a fucking weirdo.

His hand stilled for a second before he reached blindly for his phone, unlocking it with clumsy fingers as he opened his messages with Heeseung. His friend had always had this habit—sending pictures of you from games, from practice, from random moments on the court. Jake used to ignore them, but now, he was actually looking, thumb dragging slowly across the screen as he took them in one by one, most of them taken by sports journalists and reposted on the university page.

He kept scrolling faster now, a restless feeling building under his skin as his patience thinned, his hands are getting faster until his eyes landed on one that made him stop completely.

A selfie. He didn't know where the hell Heeseung got it, but there you were, up close, biting lightly onto your medal with a small, tired smile, sweaty and hair slightly messy like it had been taken right after a game. Jake stared at it longer than he should have, his chest rising and falling unevenly, his fingers working through the tip, spreading the precum. God. He wish you could also bite him, everywhere, his neck, his lips, his nippl— bite WHAT?!

His head tipped back slightly, eyes fluttering for a second as he exhaled through his teeth. "Haaa..." he whispered again, his gaze locked onto the screen as everything else faded out around him.

After a few uneven breaths and one last helpless glance at your photo, his body finally gave in to the overwhelming tension he'd been holding onto for too long, his dick keep twitching as it spurts continous cum on his stomach.

He was slumped there in silence, staring at the screen like he didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

heeseung | lol why'd you ❤️ react now to the picture i've sent 2 months ago????

heeseung | that sweaty picture haha nice taste😏

heeseung | you're welcome

Jake's entire face flushed instantly, the heat crawling up from his neck to his ears. It felt wrong, no it's actually wrong! You and him barely even talked, what the fuck is he thinking?! Jake let out a frustrated groan before tossing his phone across the room without even looking, the device hitting the floor near his desk.

It's just attraction. You were pretty—that wasn't something he could deny, not even if he tried—and his body reacting like that... it wasn't unusual, not really. He knew that. He knew it was a normal response!

Jake grew restless as the days dragged on, a quiet agitation settling into him that he couldn't shake no matter how hard he tried to distract himself. He kept checking the time without realizing it, his focus slipped whenever he tried to work on anything else. But also, it didn't still change the fact that he is looking forward to one specific moment every night.

Well, greeting you through Bumble had turned into a routine.

But one day, that routine cracked without warning. The second Bumble rolled into the living room and the camera adjusted, Jake's small, anticipatory smile faded instantly, his entire expression dropping. You were sitting there, not moving the way you usually did, not reacting the way he expected.

You were crying. His hands lifted slightly toward the screen without thinking, fingers hovering uselessly in the air, as if he could do anything at all from where he was.

You leaned back against the sofa, your body sliding down slowly until you were sitting on the floor, shoulders slumped, exhaustion written all over you. "Everyone has someone," you whispered. "Why... am I such a fucking loser?" you let out a short laugh after that.

Jake just sat there on his bed, staring at his phone.  He watched you like this without knowing how to respond.

He wanted to tell you it was okay, that you weren't whatever you thought you were in that moment, that you didn't have to sit there alone like that. He wanted to apologize too—for all the times you tried to talk to him and he shut down, for how absent he must've seemed, how useless he felt now thinking back on it.

Most of all, he wanted to tell you that you had him.

Action speaks louder than words, right? If you thought you were lonely, then he'd prove you wrong—not by saying it, because he clearly couldn't, but by doing something, anything that might reach you in a way his words never could. So he started small, practical, something he could control. If you were hungry, then he'd cook.

"I—I always... uh... cook food f-for dinner..." he managed to say when you walked in. His heart was pounding so loudly it made it hard to hear himself think. He saw the way you paused mid-step before turning your head just slightly, not fully facing him. Jake's gaze dropped instantly, locking somewhere near the floor, his fingers twitching uselessly at his side.

"I-If you want to eat," he added quickly, the words stumbling over each other in his rush to get them out before he lost the nerve entirely, "uh... it's on the table..." His voice faded at the end. He didn't wait for your response and before you had the chance to say anything, he turned and walked off quickly.

By the time he reached his room, he was practically speed-walking, shutting the door behind him a little too fast before leaning back against it with an exhale. "No..." he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself down, his pulse still racing from something as simple as speaking to you. He paced once, twice, restless energy buzzing under his skin, before grabbing his phone. The familiar motion steadied him a little as he connected to Bumble again, pulling up the camera feed with shaky anticipation.

The moment the screen lit up and he saw you sitting at the table, actually eating eagerly, without hesitation—something in his chest loosened all at once. A wide smile spread across his face. He leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on the screen. He had spent hours researching what athletes usually ate, scrolling through articles and videos, and seeing you enjoying it without knowing any of that, made it feel worth it in a way he hadn't expected.

Jake kept cooking for you after that. Sometimes you came home later than usual, the house already dark and settled, and he'd just leave the food covered on the table without saying anything. And every morning, when he stepped into the kitchen and saw the empty tupperware neatly rinsed and the dishes cleaned and set aside, something in him eased just enough to carry him through the day.

"Sooo, you're not actually talking? That's lame," Heeseung said one afternoon, watching Jake from across the scattered parts on the floor. "You're seriously not even gonna try talking to her?" he added, tilting his head slightly, like he was waiting for Jake to say something less disappointing.

Jake paused mid-motion, the screwdriver hovering awkwardly in his hand as he stared down at the loose panel he'd been working on. "Uh..." he started, hesitating as his eyes flicked up briefly toward Heeseung before dropping back down just as quickly. He shifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "I think it's okay...? People don't need conversations all the time," he said.

Heeseung made a face immediately before he pushed himself forward and sat down next to Jake on the floor. "Are you even hearing yourself?" he asked, brows raised as he nudged one of the scattered tools aside with his foot. "You'd rather just... what, keep cooking for her like some silent fucking ghost? That's it?" He leaned back on his hands, glancing at Jake from the side. "Why don't you try something normal for once? Like eating together at the table?"

"I-It's not needed," Jake replied quickly, a bit too defensive as his grip tightened slightly around the screwdriver. "What are you even pointing at?"

"I swear that girl likes you," Heeseung said, sitting up straighter now. "You literally told me she asked if you had a girlfriend, right? People don't just ask that shit for no reason. She wouldn't even bring it up if she wasn't interested."

Jake just stared at him, his mind spinning in slow, uneven circles as he tried to process what Heeseung was saying. It didn't line up cleanly in his head. His lips parted slightly like he was about to respond, but nothing came out, instead, he reached for the water bottle beside him, unscrewing the cap just to have something to do.

"For you to even sit at the same table, you need to ask her to eat dinner with you," Heeseung continued. "And to do that without fucking it up, you need courage—and a script. Yeah, a script," he added, nodding to himself. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee as he spoke, already thinking steps ahead while Jake was still stuck at the starting point.

Jake paused mid-sip, the bottle hovering awkwardly in the air as he slowly turned his head to look at him, eyes narrowing just slightly in confusion. Heeseung, meanwhile, looked completely serious.

"Let's practice some, okay?" he said, already shifting closer. "But when you say it, don't mumble like that—say it straight, no stuttering, and looook..." he dragged the word out, lifting a finger for emphasis, "at the person's eyes when you're talking. That part is important."

Jake swallowed slowly, nodding once. He lifted the bottle again, taking another quick drink but then Heeseung reached out suddenly, grabbing Jake by the shoulder and pulling him just enough to face him directly. "Practice it with me," he said, eyes locking onto Jake's with zero hesitation.

Jake barely lasted a second.

The moment their eyes met, something in him short-circuited completely. The water he'd just taken in stayed in his mouth for a split second too long before it came spilling out in the worst possible way—right onto Heeseung's face.

"You fucker," Heeseung hissed, he wiped his face with the back of his hand, water dripping down his jaw and onto his shirt. He lunged forward, grabbing Jake by the collar and immediately hooking an arm around his neck, choking him.

The next day, Jake decided he should've just ignored everything Heeseung said. All of it. The advice, the assumptions, the stupid "script"—it all felt ridiculous now that he was actually thinking about it on his own. It wasn't necessary. He didn't need to prove anything, didn't need to suddenly change how things were going between you and him. Things were... working, in their own quiet way. He had his routine, you had yours, and there was no risk of him messing it up as long as he didn't push it any further.

He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face as he tried to settle into that thought again.

Sigh.

You were so fucking pretty.

He clicked his tongue softly in frustration, shifting his weight where he stood in the kitchen. Maybe... maybe inviting you to eat together wouldn't be that bad. He swallowed, his chest tightening slightly as he stared down at the food he'd already prepared, his fingers flexing at his side like he was trying to gather whatever courage Heeseung kept talking about.

"H-Hey."

The word came out before he could stop it. You had just gotten back from practice, heading straight toward your room without really looking around. Jake set the plate down carefully on the table. Eye contact, he remembered. Right. His shoulders tensed slightly as he forced himself to look up when you paused.

And for a moment, he actually held your gaze. Really held it.

The way your eyes locked onto his without hesitation, clear and focused in a way that made his chest tighten instantly. You were even prettier up close! And just like that, it became too much. His gaze broke, darting off to the side as his composure slipped, the brief confidence he had collapsing under the weight of it.

"Let's—I-I cooked dinner," he said quickly, the words tumbling over each other as he gestured vaguely toward the table, his hand a little stiff. "There's a-a lot, so l-let's share."

The moment you sat down and really talk. All of Jake nervousness and loud mind begun to be quiet.

Oh—and it really... felt nice.

Talking to you about random things—music, mostly—like Cigarettes After Sex, of all things, wasn't something he ever pictured himself doing out loud, but it just... happened. And then the next day, you came back holding a bottle of chocolate almond milk, setting it down in front of him, and he just stared at it for a second, genuinely thrown off. For him?! You bought it... for him? there was no way—you knew his favorite drink without him ever saying it!

And fuck, you were cute too. In the little things he kept catching himself noticing more and more. The way you reacted to food, especially the ones he cooked, wasn't something you tried to hide or tone down, and he liked that more than he expected. You weren't picky, didn't hesitate, didn't pretend—you just ate, genuinely, like you enjoyed it without overthinking it. And that smile you always had while eating. Damnnn. You were cute. You were really fucking pretty.

And somehow, without either of you pointing it out, things started to settle into something new. You and him eating together when your schedules lined up, sitting across from each other at the table. Conversations came easier now, sometimes you'd watch movies after, sometimes you'd just sit there, talking about nothing in particular. But most of the time, it circled back to the same thing—eating. You ate, and he cooked. Over and over again. He cooked, cooked, and kept cooking.

Well... of course, with everything he'd been doing lately, someone was bound to question it eventually—even if he hadn't properly questioned it himself yet. From the outside, the things he was doing maybe it didn't look that simple.

"And you're doing all of that because...?" Heeseung asked.

"Because... I'm a... good roommate?" Jake replied almost immediately, the words coming out before he had time to think them through.

"You mean you're doing all of that because... you want to be a good roommate?" Heeseung repeated, his eyebrow lifting even higher as he stared at him. Jake glanced at him briefly, then looked away, his gaze drifting upward like he might find a better answer somewhere above them.

"...Yes?" he said again.

"Dude?" Heeseung's voice jumped, he straightened up, staring at Jake like he'd just said something completely insane. "What do you mean you cook for her all the time, talk with her, watch movies with her—just because you want to be a good roommate? You're literally leading her on."

"Leading her on... on what?" Jake asked, his brows pulling together slightly, the confusion in his voice genuine as he turned back to look at him.

"Leading her on into thinking you like her," Heeseung shot back immediately, his hands coming up as he gestured. "Do you not like her at all?"

...

Jake didn't answer right away. His thoughts slowed, circling around the word. It felt too big, too defined. He knew you were attractive, that wasn't even a question. You were cool, confident in ways he couldn't replicate, and there was a part of him that looked up to you without fully realizing it at first. But stepping past that, into something more specific—it didn't come easily to him.

Was he actually leading you on?

Suddenly he remember his last relationship back in high school. The awkwardness, the pressure, the way everything had fallen apart in a way that left him feeling small, like he'd completely mishandled something he wasn't ready for in the first place. He remembered the expectations he couldn't meet, the quiet disappointment that followed—and how it all ended with him promising himself he wouldn't put himself, or anyone else, through that again.

Maybe that's why he rejected your invite to watch your finals game.

At the time, it felt like the right decision. It was better this way, it would stop you from expecting anything from him, stop things from becoming something more complicated than he could handle. If you didn't hope for anything, you wouldn't be disappointed.

Later that day, after class, when he stopped by to grab food for what he half-considered a small, quiet way to celebrate for you anyway, he saw the ticket. Crumpled in the trashcan . Jake paused mid-step, the takeout bag hanging loosely in his hand as he stared at it.

And just like that, the certainty he'd been holding onto didn't feel so...solid anymore.

What the hell was he even doing? Building you stupid little lego flowers, cooking for you almost every day, sitting across from you and actually talking—even if it took everything in him just to keep the words coming. What was the point of all that? What was he trying to get out of it? Good roommate? That sounds ridiculous!

A good roommate remembers details.

Because Jake remembered things—too many things. He hadn't cared much about sports before, never bothered to look into it beyond surface-level noise, but you... you were something else.

You were everywhere.

Articles, photos, interviews—your name kept showing up in places he didn't expect. A second-year student from Basic Education, sure—but that wasn't the part that stuck. It was everything else. The way sports journalists talked about you like you were something unpredictable, something hard to pin down. The libero who didn't just receive but shut down plays, you who managed to block one of the most well-known spikers from another university! And your high school team? Representing the region at nationals!

Because you never talked about it.

Not once. You never bragged and yet there it was, laid out in front of him in article after article. MVP awards, recognition, comments about your presence on the court—how your looks alone distracted opponents, how your movements were unpredictable enough to throw off entire plays, how you stayed focused on keeping the ball alive no matter what. With the school reputation, you were often called as a Decelis Vampire with your great speed and agility. It didn't sound like the same person who sat across from him eating quietly, smiling over the food he made!

Sports were complicated but you?

You were so fucking cool.

That's why he felt so fucking dumb—so unbelievably dumb for letting things get this far without stopping himself sooner. Every small thing he did stacked up until it stopped being simple and started turning into this mess he didn't know how to handle. Heeseung had warned him and Jake brushed it off as if it didn't apply to him—but now it all circled back.

Living with you, being around you like this, letting things blur—it created tension he wasn't equipped to deal with. Because if he let himself go any further, if he actually gave in to those impulses—to the urge of wanting more, to get closer, to touch, to kiss, to do things he knew he wouldn't be able to take back—he'd regret it. He knew he would.

So avoiding you felt like the only right decision left after having sex. He knows it wasn't fair but Jake has been good at avoiding things, especially confrontation, because he knew how those situations ended for him.

But he underestimated you.

Because of course you weren't just going to let it sit like that. Of course you were going to push, to corner him when he thought he could quietly slip away from it. And that was exactly the kind of situation he wasn't ready to face—the kind where there was no escape, no easy way out.

"Talk to me, fuck it!" you snapped suddenly, your voice breaking as it rose. Jake flinched hard, his shoulders tensing as the sound hit him that made his thoughts scatter even more. Why would you do that? Why would you push him into something he clearly couldn't handle?

Because the truth was—he didn't even fully understand what he felt.

"Sorry... Jake... please," you said again, your voice dropping, almost pleading in a way that made something twist in his chest. Your hands were still there to hold onto him but he moved them gently, guided them off him.

"I like you too much, is that wrong?" you asked.

Yeah.

It is wrong.

You shouldn't feel that way about someone like him, not when he knew he couldn't give you what you deserved. Jake didn't deserve you.

"S-sorry..." he said, shaking his head slightly, his gaze fixed somewhere else, anywhere but your face. "I—I... I don't think I feel the same way, that's why I—I feel guilty... about what happened... sorry."

That's what he felt.

That's what he told himself he felt.

The sound of plastic hitting the floor suddenly made him cut through his thoughts. You got those for him.

And before he could even react—before he could say anything—you were already moving, already turning away and walking out, leaving everything behind.

Jake stood there, frozen, staring at the scattered toys on the floor. His chest felt tight, his thoughts loud and empty at the same time, a heavy stone settling deep in his gut as though he wants to vomit.

Because it felt like his world just... crashed. And the worst part? It felt like he had just lied straight through his teeth...Even though he knew, somewhere deep down, he had tried to be honest.

"You're an asshole." Heeseung didn't even hesitate when he said it. Jake clenched his teeth immediately, his jaw tightening as his eyes shut, trying to ignore everything around him. But it didn't help. All he could see was your tear-streaked face and it kept replaying, over and over again.

Yeah. He knew.

He'd known the moment the words left his mouth, the moment you dropped those stupid fucking toys and walked out without looking back. Guilt stayed in his chest, making it hard to think straight without it twisting everything. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He told himself he was avoiding problems, preventing something worse from happening—but it felt like he just created something worse instead.

Maybe he should just switch buildings again. He was ashamed. He hurt you, badly, and he didn't even mean to—but intent didn't change shit.

But then—

If he left... who the hell would be there for you?

Who would take care of you in the small ways he'd gotten used to? Who would cook, who would notice the little things, who would sit across from you at the table? Would you just find another roommate? Probably. Someone better. Someone who could actually talk without shutting down, someone who wouldn't say the wrong thing at the worst possible moment... What the fuck is he thinking right now?

Did he... actually like you?

Jake frowned slightly, his brows pulling together. Did he like you because you remembered something as small as his favorite milk without him ever saying it out loud? Because you talked a lot, filling spaces he usually left empty, and somehow that didn't annoy him the way it should've? Was it because you were pretty and because people looked at you like you were something hard to reach? Or was it the way you balanced that—how you could be intimidating on the court, but still soft in these quiet, unguarded moments he got to see?

None of it felt... enough.

Or maybe it felt too scattered, too shallow when he tried to list it out like that. Because liking someone was supposed to be deeper than this, wasn't it?

"Hi! We are from Decelis Sport Management! We're handing out flyers to support the Women's Volleyball team—they're leaving the city next month!" A small group stood near the cafeteria entrance, passing out glossy flyers one by one. "If you want to be part of the VIP section with the Decelis Band, feel free to stop by our office!" one of them added, extending a flyer toward a passing student who barely hesitated before taking it.

Jake paused mid-motion, his hand hovering over his notebook as his attention shifted without him meaning to. His eyes locked onto the flyer in someone else's hand—the bold colors, the team name printed across it. Across from him, Heeseung noticed immediately, his brows lifting as he followed Jake's line of sight, then slowly leaned back in his chair, expression flattening.

"What?" Heeseung said, lips twitching just slightly as he tilted his head. "Interested in watching?"

"H-Huh?" Jake snapped out of it quickly, his head turning toward Heeseung as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. He looked back down at his blueprint right after. "No..." he muttered.

"So are we watching Decelis vs. Isabella again?" a nearby student chimed in, leaning over slightly to look at the flyer with interest. "You gonna buy for Day 3?"

"Of course Decelis is making it to Day 3, have you seen their defense?" his friend shot back immediately, already slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stood up. "Come on, let's just grab tickets for all three days now before they sell out." He didn't even hesitate, already walking off with the flyer in hand.

Jake stayed quiet. His eyes flickered up again, catching another glimpse of the flyers being passed around. He doesn't care. He doesn't care.

He found himself standing in front of the Sports Management office later that day, stuck in the middle of a long, slow-moving line. Jake kept his head slightly lowered, shoulders tense, eyes avoiding anyone who might recognize him. Because if Heeseung found out about this he'd never hear the end of it. Probably get smacked in the head too.

"What am I doing..." he muttered under his breath, shifting his weight awkwardly as the line moved forward inch by inch.

To distract himself, Jake glanced toward the bulletin board nearby, his eyes scanning over the countless posters and printed articles pinned up in messy layers. Interviews, game highlights, team features—it was all there. Huh Yunjin—the captain. Aeri Uchinaga. Ning Yizhuo — middle blockers. Faces he'd seen in passing, names mentioned in articles he skimmed through,  most of it—

Most of it was you.

Photos of you mid-play, interviews where your expression looked calmer, more composed than he'd ever seen in person. It filled the space in a way that made it impossible to ignore, impossible to pretend you were just... normal, just his roommate. Jake stared longer, his chest tightening with every second he didn't look away.

Oh God.

Jake likes you.

The thoughts slammed into him, so hard and disorienting, like someone had cracked him across the head without warning— No... something did actually hit his head.

"—Oh! S-sorry!" a guy with glasses and messy brown hair blurted out, his voice pitching up in panic as his bag swung awkwardly and smacked straight into Jake's head, his hand coming up instinctively to rub the spot as he blinked a few times. The guy looked mortified, clutching his strap.

Every weak explanation he used to convince himself otherwise—it all crumbled in that moment. Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, no matter how many times he told himself it wasn't that deep.

It all fell apart the second he showed up here, standing in line like an idiot, pretending this was just curiosity.

It all fell apart the second he decided to go to your game, even though he didn't understand shit about volleyball, even though he had no real reason to be there—except you.

And it completely shattered the moment he saw you cry.

It fucking hurt.

"Y-You're bleeding?! H-How is that possible?!" the guy suddenly stammered, his voice jumping in panic as he pointed straight at Jake's face. Jake blinked, confused for a second before lifting his hand again, only now noticing the faint smear of red against his fingers. His brows pulled together slightly, still slow to react, while the guy behind him gasped loudly, grabbing onto his friend's shoulder.

"W-What the hell?! Did you put this in my bag, Keonho?!" the guy who hit him earlier yelped, frantically unzipping his bag and pulling out a chunk of stone that definitely didn't belong there. The guy turned to the other boy beside him, who immediately started denying it just as loudly. The two of them spiraled into a messy argument right there in line, drawing attention from a few others.

His focus had already drifted.

His eyes moved past them, scanning the rest of the line, taking in the small details he hadn't noticed before. People were talking excitedly about you—your last game, your plays, your reputation. The way they spoke about you wasn't just any casual conversation. It was admiration.

There were so many people here for you.

People who weren't awkward. People who didn't hesitate. People who would actually step forward instead of pulling back.

Jake's gaze drifted back to the boy in front of him, still panicking over the situation, completely unaware of the way Jake was staring right through him. Because even then, his attention wasn't fully there—

There were people better than him.

And wasn't that what you deserved?

Someone who would take care of you properly, not just in small, quiet ways but openly, confidently. Someone who would love you without second-guessing every word, someone who would cherish you without needing to hide behind half-efforts.

If you found someone like that... he'd step back.

He'd admire you from a distance, the way everyone else here probably already did, without expecting anything in return. And yeah, if that person hurt you, it would fucking hurt him too. But if that person treated you right—if they gave you everything... That would destroy him.

Because deep down, he knew—

He could've been that person too.

No—fuck that. He wasn't going to just stand there and accept that kind of ending! That felt worse—way worse—than anything else he'd been afraid of. Now that Jake knew, now that the feeling had a name, there was no way he could pretend it didn't exist anymore. Oh my God—he liked you.

Jake let out a sudden laugh, sound like a little unhinged as he stepped forward without thinking. The boy in front of him barely had time to react before Jake grabbed his shoulder, gripping it, his eyes a little too bright. "Thank you," he said, smiling wide in a way that didn't quite match the situation, ignoring the faint line of blood still trailing down the side of his face. "Fuck—thank you!"

The two guys stared at him like he'd lost it—and maybe he had, a little — Before they could even process what was happening, he reached out, snatched the ticket straight from the boy's hand who he saw at the ID was named as Juhoon, and stepped back.

He pushed through the line without looking back, ignoring the confused voices behind him.

Jake wasn't suddenly different.

He still struggled to talk. Still froze at the wrong moments. Still didn't know how to say things the way he meant them.

And even if he didn't know how to say it yet, even if the words never came out right—he wasn't going to just disappear and let things end like that. He'd have to face you again, one way or another, and deal with whatever came with it.

Not perfectly.

But honestly—this time, for real.

"Why is there always some kind of event in Decelis? And why the hell are we attending another seminar?" you muttered under your breath with clear irritation as you shifted your weight in line. The hallway outside the Audio Visual Room felt suffocating, packed too tight with bodies and noise, the air barely moving as heat clung stubbornly to your skin. You closed your eyes for a second, exhaling sharply through your nose, trying to ignore the way your shirt stuck to your back and how every inch of space felt invaded. Students around you fanned themselves with whatever they had—folders, papers, even their hands—but it barely helped. "For what?" you added under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else, your patience already running thin.

"Hey! Hey!"

You cracked one eye open at the familiar voice, already knowing who it was before you even turned your head. Karina stood a few feet away in the opposite line, somehow managing to look energized despite the heat, waving at you like she hadn't just walked into a human oven. Your lines moved in opposite directions, slowly dragging both of you closer until you met halfway. You gave her a look—half disbelief, half annoyance—because honestly, how the hell was she still that cheerful in this kind of weather?

"Did you see Ningning at the end of the line?" she asked immediately.

You blinked at her, unimpressed. "What kind of question is that? It sounds like we're not seeing each other later for training or something," you shot back with sarcasm as you wiped at the sweat gathering near your temple. Your mood had already dipped, and she wasn't helping.

Karina just laughed, completely unfazed, pointing at your face before pulling out her small turbo fan and aiming it straight at you. The sudden blast of air hit your skin instantly. "Come on, smile!" she teased, her grin widening as she watched your expression soften just a bit. "We're heading to Santiago next week! Aren't you excited?!"

You made a face at that, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, mostly because the heat was still unbearable and your patience was already gone. Before you could say anything else, your lines started moving again, pulling you apart just as quickly as you'd met. The cool air from her fan disappeared instantly, leaving you with nothing but the same suffocating warmth. You huffed again, this time breathing through your mouth as you tilted your head back slightly, trying to catch whatever little air you could.

"Oh my—hi! Hey—! That's the legendary vampire of Decelis!"

You groaned quietly, dragging a hand down your face as you already knew exactly who that was before even looking. Turning your head slightly, you spotted Ningning, Giselle, and Winter near the edge of the other line, all of them way too loud, way too energetic for this kind of environment. They waved like they hadn't seen you in years, calling out just enough to grab attention from people nearby.

"What the fuck did you all take to have that kind of energy?" you muttered under your breath as you stepped closer when your lines aligned again. Ningning immediately reached out, offering you a pack of gummy bears.

"The weather's so nice, what do you mean?!" Ningning said, completely serious, which only made you stare at her harder. "We saw the band earlier—I'm excited to see Karina do her serve with them!"

"D-E-C-E-L-I-S! GO! GO! GO! GO!" Winter and Giselle suddenly broke into the university chant, and completely unbothered by the stares they were getting. You looked at all three of them with a flat, unimpressed expression, not even trying to match their energy.

"Come on, have a little life! Fix your face!" Winter said, pointing directly at you before reaching over to wipe the sweat from your forehead. "What if someone confesses to you and you look like that? They'll remember that face forever."

You scoffed lightly, brushing her hand away as your line started moving again, pulling you forward inch by inch with the rest of the crowd. "Then they should've picked a better time," you muttered, rolling your eyes as the heat continued to cling to you. By the time you finally reached the doors of the AVR, your patience was hanging by a thread. But the second you stepped inside, the cool air hit you all at once and you almost groaned from relief. You and your classmates didn't waste time, quickly settling at the back near the AC unit, claiming the best spot before anyone else could. It took a few long, dragging minutes before the seminar actually started.

You leaned your face into your palm, elbow pressed against the armrest as you stared blankly toward the front of the room. The spokesperson clicked through slides that looked painfully dull, filled with text that didn't even try to be engaging. Around you, the quiet wasn't peaceful, broken occasionally by soft whispers or the very obvious sound of someone snoring a few seats away. Your eyelids started to droop slightly, blinking slower as your attention slipped further away from whatever was being said. Your thoughts drifted elsewhere—like food. What would they even have after training later? Something decent, hopefully. Or maybe not. Then your mind jumped again, landing on what Karina said earlier—Santiago. Meals. You wondered what they'd serve there, silently hoping it wouldn't be bland, dry, or just straight-up disappointing. You missed good food. Real food. You exhaled quietly. God, you were so fucking bored.

"I guess all of us believe in horoscopes and luck, aren't we?" the spokesperson's voice cut through your thoughts. There was a scattered response from the audience—some murmurs, a few half-hearted replies—and she let out a small chuckle like she expected it. "I see some of us don't..."

You didn't move, your expression unchanged as you stared forward, barely processing the question.

"I guess we can say that fortune happens for a reason," she went on, gesturing lightly with her hands as she paced a little across the front. "It doesn't necessarily mean it's bad, right? Some people believe that fortune favors good people, or that you have to do certain things to gain luck..." She paused briefly, her smile softening just a bit. "But sometimes, what we call bad luck or misfortune—it's just a way of letting us make mistakes."

She let out a small breath, her expression calm as she looked over the room. "Because what is a person," she added, "without flaws or mistakes?"

God, this is so fucking boring. You shifted in your seat, jaw tightening slightly as you stared at the front, not even pretending to listen anymore. Your stomach twisted faintly—not even out of hunger at this point, but just the need to do something else. So you stood up, already preparing a half-assed excuse about needing to pee, not even caring if it sounded convincing. But instead of just letting you slip out quietly, one of the organizers immediately stepped in, lowering their voice as they gestured toward the side. "You can use the bathroom backstage," they said politely. You blinked at them, unimpressed. What the fuck? Why was everything so damn controlled here?

You let out a quiet huff, resisting the urge to argue as you turned and made your way toward the indicated path. The walk felt longer than it should've, your footsteps muted against the flooring as you passed behind the curtains, the noise from the seminar dulling slightly the further you went. You scratched your head absentmindedly, shoulders a little tense as you caught one of the organizers briefly watching you pass. You met their gaze for a second, giving them a look that said yeah, I'm actually going to the bathroom, relax, before looking away again. It felt stupid, the whole thing—like even stepping out for a second needed supervision.

The moment you pushed past the curtain into the backstage area, the atmosphere shifted. It was quieter here, less suffocating, the hum of equipment replacing the droning voice from the seminar. You immediately reached for your phone, already opening your messages and texting Karina without hesitation—how many fucking hours is this seminar again? Your thumbs moved quickly. You leaned against the wall, exhaling sharply as your thoughts spiraled again. Luck. Fortune. Fate. Why were people so obsessed with that shit?It just felt repetitive. Empty. You'd been unlucky most of your life—so what, was that the universe teaching you something? Letting you "grow"? You almost scoffed at your own thoughts.

"O-Oh."

The voice came out of nowhere that make you freeze mid-thought. Your body stiffened instantly, your head turning slightly to the side as your heart picked up faster than you wanted it to.

Jake was sitting near the technical setup, half-hidden behind equipment, like he'd been there the whole time and you just didn't notice.

"H-Hi," you said quickly, forcing your tone to sound casual, like your chest wasn't suddenly tight for no reason. What the fuck was wrong with you? You already knew how this went. You liked him—fine. But he didn't like you back. He made that clear. So why the hell was your heart still reacting like this? It was annoying! You looked at him for a second too long before forcing your gaze away, but it didn't stop your brain from noticing everything anyway—his messy brown hair, the way his glasses sat slightly crooked, those wide eyes that never seemed to know where to settle, his lips pressed together. Even the way his oversized white shirt sat under that black jacket—it all just... fit in a way that pissed you off.

You huffed quietly, trying to steady yourself as you pointed vaguely toward the other side. "I was about to use the bathroom," you said. "You part of the organizers?" Why the fuck were you even talking? You should've just walked!

"Uh... yeah..." Jake replied, eyes flickering toward you before immediately darting away again. "The whole Engineering department... we're volunteering." His words came out uneven, like he wasn't fully confident in them, and for a brief second, both of you glanced at each other—

—and looked away at the same time.

"Ah..." you responded, as you dropped your gaze back to your phone, your thumb moving aimlessly across the screen just to have something to do. You weren't even reading anything—just scrolling, unlocking, locking it again—anything to avoid looking at him for too long. The silence stretched awkwardly between you, uncomfortable in a way that made your shoulders tense slightly. You could still feel his presence there, just a few steps away, like it was pressing in on you even without him saying anything.

"D-Do you need a-anything more?" he asked, his voice hesitant, uneven, like he wasn't even sure if he should be speaking at all.

You let out a quiet sigh, shaking your head quickly without looking up. "No," you replied shortly, already done with whatever this interaction was supposed to be. There wasn't anything left to say—at least, not anything you were willing to entertain right now. So you slipped your phone into your pocket, turning slightly toward the curtain again, reaching for the fabric as you prepared to head back into the AVR. Walking away was always easier.

"W-Wait, please."

You paused, your fingers tightened slightly around the curtain as you stopped, your back still facing him, your body going still even as your thoughts immediately tensed. Shocked by the sudden call.

"I-I—..." he started, his voice catching on itself, like the words refused to come out properly. You heard the faint rustling of paper behind you, something unfolding, shifting in his hands. Slowly, you turned your head, then your body, just enough to look back.

Jake stood there, holding a folded piece of paper that he was now struggling to keep steady. His hands were shaking—actually shaking—as he tried to open it properly, his other hand repeatedly wiping against his pants like they wouldn't stop sweating. He looked... off. Nervous in a way that felt more intense than usual, like he'd been building up to this moment for a while and was now barely holding it together.

"I know I have treated you t-this badly and t-there's no such an e-excuse for that action..." he read, his voice stumbling over the words, each one forced out.

What... the hell was he doing?

Your expression didn't change. Not immediately. You just stood there, staring at him, your face flat, unreadable despite the quiet shock settling in your chest. It didn't match the situation—didn't match the way he looked, the way his hands gripped the paper tighter when he finally glanced up at you.

And when his eyes met your completely unimpressed expression—his fingers tightened even more around the paper, the edges crinkling under the pressure like he might just tear it apart without meaning to. For a second, it looked like he was going to keep reading, like he'd force himself through whatever he had written no matter how bad it got. But then something shifted. His jaw clenched, his grip snapped—and the paper crumpled in his hands. Your lips parted slightly, not quite a reaction, not quite indifference either—just caught somewhere in between as you watched him abandon whatever script he thought would save him.

"I'm sorry," he said. It came out raw this time, stripped of the careful structure he was trying to follow earlier. "I'm so sorry for pushing you away after...that," he continued, the words coming faster now, like he didn't trust himself to stop. "I'm so sorry for hurting you... and I'm so sorry for being a coward." His eyes stayed on yours this time, not darting away, not avoiding like he always did—and that alone felt off, enough to make you stay still without realizing it. But his hands betrayed everything else, wiping over his sides again and again, like he couldn't get rid of the sweat.

"I'm so... sorry for taking too long to realize my feelings for you."

You didn't move. Didn't speak. You just stared at him, your mind lagging a second behind everything he just said. It didn't settle right away—it couldn't. Not when it sounded like something you weren't expecting to hear again, not from him.

"I—I really don't know how to talk without fumbling," Jake continued. He dragged a hand up to his hair, scratching at it in frustration, his shoulders tense in a way that made it obvious how hard this was for him. "My thoughts..." he trailed off, almost whining under his breath, like he didn't even know how to explain what was going on in his head. And that's when you noticed his eyes were glassy now, the faint shine of tears building up faster than he could control.

"It's a lot," he admitted. "I—I wish... whatever my mind says every time you talk, every time you share something..." He sniffed, his nose scrunching slightly as he tried to steady himself, but it didn't really work. "I wish you could hear that instead." His fingers curled slightly at his sides, restless. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

"Because..." he swallowed, his voice dipping just slightly as his eyes stayed locked on yours, refusing to look away now. "I really like you."

Your breath caught immediately, the shift so sudden it almost hurt, your lungs stuttering as if they didn't know how to adjust. Your mouth opened on, ready to respond—ready to question, to say something—but he didn't give you the chance.

"I know it's sudden," Jake rushed out, panic bleeding into his voice as he stepped forward. "I know I hurt you—yes, I hurt you, I-I-I..." His voice faltered, catching on itself as his thoughts tangled, his mouth parting again before nothing came out for a second. He swallowed hard, forcing it through. "I like you a lot, please," he added, more desperate now. "I like you in a way that doesn't... shut up." And then he moved closer again.

"Jake—"

"I want to be your boyfriend!" he blurted out, louder this time, cutting straight through you before you could even finish his name. It was like he didn't even think before saying them. "I want to be the man for you!" he continued, his voice shaking but determined. "I know you're probably thinking I'm not in the right mind for wanting this after everything I did, after all of that—but those things, they just made me realize how much I actually... wanted to be there." His breath came uneven, his chest rising as he tried to keep going. "With you. Around you. Talking—even if I suck at it."

"Wait—"

"You're so pretty it hurts!" he cut in again. "I realized it even before all this—I like cooking for you, I want to be the only one cooking for you. I also like feeding your fish, I—" He paused for half a second, just enough for something worse to slip out. "I love staring at you through Bumble—"

"You're Bumble—?"

"—I love everything about you!" he rushed over you again, not even realizing what he just admitted, completely overriding your question. His face flushed deeper, his hands clenching as he stepped closer again without thinking. "I can be someone you need," he said as though he was trying to convince both you and himself at the same time. "I can take care of you properly, not just... small things, not just hiding behind stuff like cooking or fixing things. I can actually be there, I swear."

His voice cracked slightly, but he didn't stop. "I know I'm late. I know I already fucked this up once," he said, his breathing stayed uneven. "I-I don't have any experience in relationships. I don't even know what I'm doing half the time," he admitted. "But I know I can be someone who shows up to your every tournament—"

Your eyes widened immediately at that, the words hitting you harder than expected. You never told him that. "Jake, I think you need to shut up—"

"I can be someone who listens," he pushed on, cutting over you again, his voice desperate but weirdly hopeful at the same time. "Someone who wouldn't freak out when you're exhausted or pissed or quiet. Someone who'd talk to you through the hard days," he added, a shaky smile forming despite the tears still slipping down his cheeks, his hand coming up to wipe them away messily. "I can learn what you like, what you need—I can—" he stumbled again, words spilling faster again than his brain could filter them. "I'm not experienced at sex at all though, but I—I can learn! I can fuck you hard to knock those stress— I can do that!—"

You moved faster than him this time. Your hand shot up, covering his mouth firmly before he could finish whatever the hell he was about to say next. "Jake..." you said, your eyes locking onto his immediately.

He froze. Completely. His body went still under your touch, his wide eyes staring at you like you just put him in place, a soft and almost stupidly affectionate shining in his stare. And for a second, neither of you moved—your hand still pressed over his mouth, his breath warm against your palm.

"You accidentally pressed the speaker for the backstage, you idiot," you hissed. Your hand was still half-frozen in front of his face, your embarrassment crawling up your neck as the realization fully sank in. From the other side of the curtain, the sudden silence from the spokesperson had already been replaced by laughter, whistles, loud cheering echoing from the AVR like the entire room had just turned into a stadium. Your stomach dropped even further at the thought of everyone hearing whatever Jake had just been saying.

God, you were so embarrassed. Worse than embarrassed—this was catastrophic. You could still hear fragments of reactions outside, like people replaying the moment for entertainment, and it only made your face burn hotter. Jake, meanwhile, had gone completely still for a split second before abruptly pulling your hand away from his mouth like he'd finally rebooted.

"I like you," he said again, suddenly firm, like the embarrassment outside didn't even register anymore. "Let me? Let me prove my feelings to you?" He stepped closer again, not in a rush, but with intent. "Let me prove that I deserve a second chance?"

"Jake, aren't you embarrassed?" you whispered urgently, leaning in just enough to keep your voice from carrying, your eyes darting toward the curtain where the noise was still going. "Press that button and we'll talk later—just stop the audio first—" You were trying to salvage whatever dignity was left in this situation, your tone a mix of panic and disbelief. "It's a yes but press those buttons—"

"I like you!" Jake repeated suddenly, cutting through your sentence again—but this time he laughed right after, like the chaos outside somehow made everything lighter instead of worse. Your eyes shut for a brief second, overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of it all, but you couldn't ignore the way your chest tightened at the sound. "I like you so much!" he added, louder than before, like he couldn't contain it anymore.

That was when the door to the backstage swung open.

"Sim Jaeyun." The voice was strict that instantly enough to kill whatever remaining chaos was left in the room. The dean stood there, eyes locking onto Jake like a warning shot. "Office. Now."

You covered your face with both hands, mortified all over again as the reality of everything hit at once. Jake, however, didn't look away from you—not even for a second. He stood there, biting his lip slightly, eyes still fixed on you like the dean wasn't even the main concern. You peeked through your fingers just in time to see it—him still looking at you like that, like nothing else mattered.

And somehow, against all, you smiled. Just a little.

Jake saw it immediately. His expression softened, a small, breathless laugh slipping out of him like he couldn't help it. But then the dean cleared their throat again, sharper this time, and Jake straightened instantly, forcing himself to move. Still, even as he turned to leave, his eyes lingered on you one last time before he finally followed after the dean.

The controversy of what happened spread faster than you expected, like someone had lit a match and thrown it straight into dry grass.

Your group chat blew up almost instantly, messages stacking, names tagging you repeatedly. Even Karina's name popped up more than once, her messages sitting there unanswered alongside everyone else's, but you didn't feel like responding to any of it. When you showed up for training later, you acted normal enough—smiling faintly, shrugging when people nudged you for answers, letting them complain when you stayed quiet. But it was obvious, even to them, that something had shifted in you. You weren't irritated anymore. If anything, you felt... lighter.

By the time you got back home, you slowly pushed the apartment door open, not expecting anything unusual, and paused the moment your eyes landed on him. Jake was in the kitchen, moving carefully between the stove and counter. Soft music played in the background—Cigarettes After Sex. For a second, it felt like déjà vu, like your life had looped back. But this time, it's more real.

"So you give him a second chance and it's all good?" Karina's words echoed in your head. Of course not. It wasn't that simple. It couldn't be that simple after everything that happened. You stayed still near the doorway for a moment longer, just watching him move around the kitchen like he wasn't even aware of how much your world had tilted in the past day. He didn't look up right away. He just kept cooking, focused.

But it wasn't "all good." Not yet.

You were still figuring him out again, piece by piece, like retracing steps you once ran through too fast. There was hesitation in it, still uncertainty. But now there was something else too. An understanding. He likes you. You like him. That much was no longer buried under confusion or denial.

Maybe it wouldn't fall apart the way you once feared. Maybe it wouldn't be as complicated as it looked from the outside. Or maybe it would be exactly that—and you'd still choose to stay in it anyway. The thought of horoscopes, luck, fate drifted back into your mind again. Fine. Maybe they didn't control anything—but they nudged things in directions you weren't always ready for. The universe didn't have to be loud about it. Sometimes it just placed people in your path and let everything else unravel from there.

Without needing certainty yet, you stepped inside anyway.

"Me Gustas Tu."

Jake always like the stars.

He found himself thinking about how they didn't need to be closer to matter—they just existed, shining anyway, without asking for anything back. It reminded him of how some things in life just... stayed.

He likes fire too.

Not the kind that destroyed things carelessly, but the kind that spread slowly, beautifully, like it had intention behind every movement. The kind that didn't just burn—it transformed, left traces, changed the space it touched. He thought about how it looked when it moved, unpredictable but alive, impossible to ignore once you noticed it.

He likes the sea. The rain. Things that never really stop moving.

And if he had to turn all of that into something—if he had to explain what it felt like when you were around—it wouldn't come out neatly. It would probably sound messy, like him. Maybe he'd say you were like the brightest star he couldn't stop looking at. Or maybe he'd say you were like fire—something that made him burn. Or maybe he'd compare you to the sea, endless and overwhelming in the best way, pulling him in even when he should stay back.

Silly Jake—he really couldn't stop thinking about you, could he?

It was almost annoying how constant it had become, like your presence didn't need you physically there anymore to take up space in his head. Every small pause in his day somehow circled back to you, as if his thoughts had quietly rearranged themselves. Realizing that even silence now felt different when you weren't part of it.

The Volleyball Team had already made their way to Santiago City for the Regional Tournament, and Jake found himself trailing behind the group with a distracted mind. He stared down at his phone more than once, rereading your message that said you had arrived safely at your destination. It was just a normal update—but he kept looking at it anyway. You two weren't anything official yet, not even close enough for anything sweet, still stuck in that uncertain thing of figuring each other out. And before you left, things had been awkward again, the kind of awkward that made conversations shorter than they needed to be. Still, despite all of that, he missed you.

And that was the part that frustrated him the most.

Did everything that happened recently make him more desperate, or just more aware? He didn't even know anymore. It was like the absence of you had made everything louder—his thoughts, his habits, even the smallest pauses in his routine. He found himself wanting things he didn't used to think about before, like hearing your voice without a reason, or seeing you just standing there. God, he sounded pathetic in his own head. A total loser, really, the kind he would've rolled his eyes at if it was someone else.

Jake was almost restless for the entire three days, like his body had forgotten how to sit still without thinking about you. At one point, he ended up just staring at your fish tank for nearly an hour, watching the small movements. It was ridiculous, honestly, the way his attention kept drifting back to anything even remotely connected to you. You were busy the whole time—training, interviews, constant schedules—only messaging him late at night right before you slept, and even then it was brief, tired updates. Your phone had even been grounded by your coach at one point, and Jake nearly dropped his own phone in the bathroom when it suddenly rang with your notification tone. Jake was pathetic, and he knew it.

By the time the university bus was heading to Santiago, Jake had already made himself the first one there, sitting far too early with a bag that he kept checking unnecessarily. He dragged Heeseung along too, who looked half-dead already, yawning nonstop while leaning against his neck pillow. The rest of the group was still boarding, but Jake didn't care much about that part—his mind was already elsewhere, looping back to you even as the city started fading behind the bus windows. The road stretched out ahead, scenery shifting in slow motion, but all he could think about was seeing you again in person. It made him sit straighter without realizing it.

Jake is a loser and Jake is pathetically in love with you.

"I-I heard there's a lot of strong offense on the other team," Jake suddenly said as he leaned closer to the window, watching the scenery blur past. "I'm actually worried about her... what if they hit too hard and she gets bruises again?" he added, already picturing things he had no control over.

Heeseung beside him just let out another long, tired yawn, slouching deeper into his seat. "It's part of the competition, Jake," Heeseung replied flatly, voice dry and uninterested, like he'd answered this kind of concern too many times already. (He actually did)

Jake didn't seem reassured.

"Do you think I can talk to her after one of the matches?" he continued anyway, ignoring the lack of enthusiasm beside him. "Do you think they'll let them eat properly? What if the food is bad? I packed extra food too, and a first aid kit—just in case, so I can help if her hands get worse." He said it all in one breath.

Heeseung only yawned again, louder this time, barely even looking at him. "The sports management already said we're not allowed to talk to the team, Jake," he said lazily. "Not even pictures unless they don't make it to Day Three—which, honestly, I doubt."

Jake's lips pressed together slightly, his shoulders sinking just a little at that. By the time the bus finally arrived at the hotel, Jake was already holding his phone again, thumbs hovering over the screen before he typed out a quick message telling you that the university cheering squad had arrived safely and would be ready for the match. The hotel itself was only walking distance from the stadium—close enough that just knowing you were somewhere nearby made his chest tighten stupidly all over again. But your reply never came. Jake stared at the unread message for a few seconds longer than necessary before locking his phone with a quiet sigh. Of course you were busy. It was your first match, your focus should be there. Still, it didn't stop the anxious feeling crawling around in him anyway.

"Stop fidgeting," Heeseung muttered later as they handed over their tickets to the organizers, watching Jake bounce his leg nonstop while they waited to be stamped in. The entire stadium already felt loud before they even reached their seats, filled with students, chants, instruments, and that made Jake's ears ring almost immediately. They ended up seated near the front together with the band and the cheering squad, surrounded by noise that felt overwhelming enough to swallow him whole. Jake rubbed at his ear absentmindedly, trying to adjust to the volume, but the second his eyes landed on the court—on you—everything else faded anyway.

"Dude, sit down! She's not going anywhere," Heeseung hissed under his breath after Jake practically stood up the second he spotted you. He grabbed Jake's sleeve and forced him back into his seat before he embarrassed himself further. Jake awkwardly fixed his posture, shoulders stiff as he looked toward the court again—and then your head turned in his direction.

For one terrifying second, your eyes met his. Jake smiled immediately, awkward, his braces flashing while his entire face heated up from the attention. You only gave him a small smile in return before going right back to stretching like nothing happened. That tiny interaction alone was enough to make his chest feel full.

Heeseung was right about one thing though—the university wasn't exaggerating when they invested so much into Decelis' Women's Volleyball Team. Jake barely understood the game itself, but even he could tell the difference in level almost immediately. The coordination, the defense, the sheer pressure your team put onto the other side. The match didn't even last an hour before it was over, the crowd exploding into cheers while Jake sat there stunned, staring at the scoreboard like he couldn't believe how quickly everything ended.

And then, just as fast as it ended— you were gone again.

The sports organizers immediately started ushering the cheering squads and students toward the exits before anyone could crowd around the athletes. Jake instinctively stood again, craning his neck over people's shoulders, tiptoeing just to catch one more glimpse of you. He spotted you briefly near the sidelines, shaking hands and getting congratulated by the opposing team before staff quickly surrounded your group again, escorting all of you away toward the restricted areas.

Jake's shoulders dropped immediately after. Jake is pathetic. And right now, Jake felt fucking miserable.

That was exactly what happened on Day Two. Jake barely even noticed Santiago City despite everyone else talking about how beautiful it was, how lively the streets were at night, how there were places they should visit before heading home. None of it stayed in his attention for more than a second because his eyes kept falling back to his phone every few minutes. You would appear at the court for a couple of intense hours, completely alive, and then disappear again. Jake wasn't even allowed to properly approach you. Not a greeting. Not a quick conversation. Nothing. He was expected to just sit there like a normal supporter and wait for Day Three like everyone else. But Jake already knew what would happen tomorrow too—maybe you'd win, the crowd would swarm, organizers would rush your team away again, and he'd end up watching your back disappear for another fucking day. The thought alone was enough to make him restless.

By the time they got back to the hotel that night, Jake looked like he was losing his mind slowly. He kept rolling around on the bed, flipping his pillow over, grabbing his phone every two minutes only to stare at the same screen with no new notifications. His leg bounced nonstop, fingers fidgeting against his stomach while his thoughts kept circling back to you again and again. Heeseung eventually got fed up with the constant movement and straight-up kicked Jake's ass from the other bed.

"For fuck's sake, stop moving!" Heeseung groaned, half-asleep and irritated as hell. "You're making the entire bed shake."

Jake only huffed under his breath, glaring briefly before grabbing his bag and quietly leaving the room instead. Staying still clearly wasn't happening tonight.

Jake was determined now. Tomorrow was the finals, and it was already 10:17 PM. There was no way your team was still doing heavy training this late, right? Maybe you were already asleep. Maybe not. Maybe you were still stuck in some team meeting or recovery session. Jake didn't know, and the not knowing was making him itch. So against all common sense, he made his way toward the other venue building where the sports organizers and volleyball teams were staying. He walked carefully, shoulders tense, sneaking around like he was committing an actual crime before crouching near the grassy area outside when he heard voices nearby. He stayed there awkwardly for almost ten whole minutes, slapping mosquitoes and insects away from his arms while trying not to make any noise.

"Did that bitch literally threaten you?" a voice snapped somewhere ahead. "Just because they won last year doesn't mean we can't beat their ass tomorrow!"

"Giselle," another voice sighed immediately after. "Be the bigger person."

Jake instantly lowered himself further into the grass, nearly flattening his face into the ground before carefully peeking upward. Your team!

His eyes immediately found you among them without even trying.

You walked quietly beside the others, wearing oversized training clothes while lazily eating from a cup of ice cream, your expression tired. You scooped another spoonful slowly before lowering it again, staring into the cup like your mind was somewhere else entirely. Even looking exhausted, even standing half-awake— Jake still thought you looked so so so pretty.

"No, because why the hell would they threaten Yunjin and then give you a dirty look too?" Winter complained loudly, pointing at you with disbelief still written all over her face.

You only shrugged one shoulder lazily, taking another bite of ice cream like it genuinely didn't bother you. "Probably because I stared back," you muttered flatly.

"That's not helping your intimidation allegations," Ningning snorted from the side.

Jake had to physically press his lips together to stop himself from smiling too hard into the grass like a complete fucking idiot.

"I can't wait to beat their ass tomorrow!" Rei shouted dramatically, pumping her fist into the air. Jake stayed crouched awkwardly near the bushes, trying to remain hidden while still watching you from afar like a complete creep. His knees were starting to hurt from squatting too long, insects still attacking him from every direction, but he ignored all of it because you were right there. Then, in the middle of shifting his weight slightly—

Crack. Jake accidentally stepped on a dry branch.

Your entire team immediately went quiet. Jake froze so hard he almost stopped breathing, eyes widening as every single head turned toward the dark garden area where he was hiding.

"D-Did you guys hear that?!" Karina squeaked instantly, grabbing onto Winter's arm dramatically while looking around in panic.

The girls started screaming over each other almost immediately, some backing away while others started speed-walking toward the entrance. Jake slapped both hands over his mouth to stop himself from making another sound, shoulders tense while he watched the group scatter in pure confusion.

"T-there's a bear!"

"Shut up, why would a bear be here?!"

"Then what the fuck was that?!"

Jake stayed completely still for what felt like forever after they disappeared inside, barely even blinking as he listened carefully to make sure nobody was coming back with security.

Then suddenly he heard a one pair of footsteps approaching slowly. Jake squeezed his eyes shut briefly, already preparing himself mentally for getting caught by some staff member or organizer.

"Jake," your voice called quietly through the dark. "Did you know that if you get caught, the sports organizers would probably ban you from joining tournament cheering teams forever?"

Jake's eyes immediately opened again. He slowly peeked his head upward from behind the bushes and found you standing there alone now, arms crossed loosely while staring down at him. He stood up quickly, brushing grass and dirt off his pajama pants awkwardly before giving you the most painfully guilty smile possible.

"H-Hi."

"Hi," you replied, a small half-smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

Jake scratched the back of his head immediately, avoiding your eyes for a second before forcing himself to look again. "U-Uh... I couldn't sleep," he explained quickly, stumbling over the excuse. "T-That's why I went for a walk... you know..."

You stared at him flatly for a second, eyes slowly moving over his messy hair, oversized hoodie, his bag, and pajama pants that still had grass stuck to them. "How did you even get inside?" you asked finally, brows raising slightly in disbelief.

Jake let out an awkward little laugh under his breath. "Heh..." He rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I... climbed the back gate."

Your lips twitched immediately before you burst out laughing. It caught Jake completely off guard. He stood there frozen, staring at you while your shoulders shook lightly. His chest tightened stupidly at the sight. God, you looked so good laughing at him. Honestly, if this was what it took, Jake felt like he'd climb ten more fucking gates just to hear you laugh like that again.

"Why?" you asked between laughs.

Jake bit the inside of his cheek, his face already turning red under the dim lights. "I..." He hesitated for half a second before forcing himself through it anyway. "I wanted to see you," he admitted quietly.

You blinked at him. "Eh?" Your laughter faded as you tilted your head slightly. "You saw me during the tournament though. Besides, tomorrow's literally the last day. What's the catch?"

Jake immediately started fidgeting again, rubbing his palms repeatedly against his pajama pants like he didn't know where to place his nervous energy. "I miss you," he blurted out quickly before he could overthink it. The second the words left his mouth, his entire face heated up even more. God, that sounded corny as hell. Jake felt like some pathetic high schooler confessing to his crush behind the gym after class.

You stared at him quietly for a moment after that. At the way he kept fumbling with his hands. At the way he couldn't stay still. At the way he looked so genuinely nervous despite already confessing to you in front of an entire auditorium days ago. Cute. So fucking cute.

Your gaze slowly lifted away from him afterward, drifting upward toward the sky above the hotel grounds. The night had settled calmly over Santiago, the stars faint but visible around the huge glowing moon hanging overhead. The breeze was cooler now compared to the daytime heat, soft enough to make the leaves around the garden rustle quietly.

"The moon is beautiful, right?" you asked suddenly, softer in a way that made Jake immediately straighten.

"Huh?" He blinked before quickly following your gaze upward. "Ah—yeah. Right." He nodded awkwardly, staring at the moon, trying very hard to process what was happening.

But while he looked upward, you looked at him instead. At the way the moonlight softened his features, the way his messy hair moved slightly with the wind, the nervousness still written all over his face despite trying to hide it. A small smile slowly formed onto your lips before you finally called his name again.

"Jake."

Jake turned toward you immediately, almost too quickly, eyes wide and attentive as if he'd been waiting for you to say something else.

"I miss you too."

Jake stiffened instantly before the biggest smile slowly spread across his face, so wide it almost looked ridiculous. He looked down for a second, biting his lip like he was trying to stop himself from grinning too hard, but it clearly wasn't working. Even the tips of his ears were red now. God, he looked so stupidly happy over four words.

Somehow, the two of you ended up sitting together on one of the benches in the garden afterward. The awkwardness was still there, but it no longer felt painful. You found yourself telling him random things about your day without even realizing it—complaining about the freezing showers in the athlete dorms, the way Giselle almost started a fight earlier, how your coach yelled at the team because someone forgot their jersey during practice.

Jake listened to every single word carefully.

And somewhere in the middle of your rambling, he suddenly started pulling snacks out of his bag one after another. "W-What?" he mumbled shyly when you stared at the pile forming beside him. "I thought... maybe the food here sucks."

"You packed this much?" you snorted, staring at the ridiculous amount of food. Chips, bread, bottled drinks, chocolate bars, even packed containers wrapped carefully inside towels to keep warm.

Jake only shrugged awkwardly. "I thought you might get hungry."

Now your legs were comfortably stretched across his lap while the both of you shared snacks. Jake sat there quietly rubbing mint oil carefully onto the bruises forming around your calves and hands after today's match, his touch gentle despite how concentrated he looked. His brows furrowed slightly every time his fingers passed over darker bruises.

"Does this hurt?" he asked softly at one point, thumbs carefully pressing against your calf.

"A little," you admitted honestly before shoving another chip into your mouth.

Jake immediately eased the pressure after that. The silence afterward felt comfortable enough that your thoughts wandered again, eyes lifting toward the dark sky while the cold minty feeling spread across your sore skin. "Do you think people lose because they don't train enough?" you asked suddenly. "Or just because that's their fate?"

Jake's hands paused briefly on your leg before continuing slower this time. You huffed softly, tossing another chip into your mouth while staring at the stars. "If we lose tomorrow... does that mean we didn't work hard enough?" you continued. "Or maybe fortune just doesn't favor us."

Jake hummed quietly under his breath, clearly thinking carefully before answering. His eyes lifted toward the sky for a second too before he looked back down at your legs again. "I..." He hesitated slightly. "I guess that's what life is?"

You turned your head toward him while he continued massaging your calf slowly. "Life is unfair," he murmured quietly. "But that's just... how it works sometimes. We don't always hold the fortune. We don't always hold our own fate either." His fingers slowed absentmindedly against your skin. "Some people work hard and still lose. Some people barely try and somehow still win."

The breeze shifted softly around the two of you, carrying the distant sounds of traffic somewhere outside the hotel grounds. You looked at him carefully for a moment before asking quietly— "Do you believe in luck?"

Jake paused for a moment. His hand slowed slightly on your skin before he gave a small shrug of his shoulder. "I don't know?" he admitted honestly. "Sometimes it makes sense, sometimes it doesn't." He glanced down at your leg again while continuing to massage it gently. "But I got my horoscope read once... they said luck favors me," he added with a faint, awkward smile. "Dunno if it's true though."

That familiar half-smile formed on his face again after he said it. You stared at him quietly while he focused back on your bruises, fingers pressing lightly in slow, careful circles. In that moment, something in your chest tightened again. It felt stupid and obvious all at once, like your thoughts had already made up their mind. An unlucky you sitting here beside someone who casually talked about luck like it followed him around. What were the odds of that, really?

Ooooh, you're foolishly in love with this boy.

You exhaled softly. "I guess I just need to stick with you," you muttered with a small, almost teasing smile

The stadium was completely packed, like the entire city had decided to squeeze itself into one arena just to watch this match. The energy felt heavier too, everyone already knew this wasn't going to be an easy game. Jake could feel his ears ringing nonstop from the overlapping chants, drums, and screams echoing from every direction. Compared to Day One and Day Two, today felt sharper somehow. Heeseung, sitting beside him, kept laughing at the absurdity of it all—especially how the Decelis band and Isabella's band had basically turned into competing sound systems, blasting music louder and louder just to outdo each other while waiting for the teams to arrive.

"Today we are here to witness another rough battle in the Region!" the commenator announced through the speakers.

The crowd immediately exploded into noise again, shaking the entire structure. Jake flinched slightly at the volume, but he didn't look away from the court even for a second. The introductions began, one team after another stepping into the court under flashing lights and roaring applause. When Isabella's team was introduced, something about the atmosphere shifted.

"It's them! It's them! Oh my God, it's going to start!" the cheering squad beside them squealed loudly, practically jumping in their seats.

Your team walked out. The moment you appeared with the rest of the players, the crowd somehow got even louder, people waving banners, shouting names, and snapping photos like crazy. You moved confidently across the court, waving casually at the audience.

The moment your eyes landed on his direction, Jake reacted instantly without even thinking. He yanked off his hoodie in one quick motion, revealing the shirt underneath that had your face printed on it. For a split second, the entire section near him went quiet in shock. Your mouth literally fell open on the court, frozen mid-step, while even Heeseung slowly turned his head toward him with disbelief.

Jake caught sight of your lips curling into a bright smile as you stretched on the court, rolling your shoulders and loosening your arms. Without even realizing it, Jake found himself smiling too.

The game started almost immediately after introductions. Isabella's team was exactly what everyone warned about, a way that made every rally feel like a fight for survival. The difference between the two teams was small on the scoreboard, but on the court it felt massive, like every point was being ripped out instead of earned easily. Jake could feel himself tensing up more and more with each exchange, leaning forward in his seat without realizing it, breath catching every time the ball flew too close to your side. And every single time you dove—actually threw yourself across the floor to save a point—Jake reacted like he was the one getting hit. Ouch!

He grabbed Heeseung's arm at one point without thinking, squeezing too hard as he watched you slide across the court to receive a brutal spike. "Oh my God—she's gonna break something!" Jake muttered under his breath. You just got up like it was nothing, brushing your hands off and getting right back into position like your body didn't even register pain the same way normal people did.

"D-E-C-E-L-I-S! GO! GO! GO! GO!" Jake and Heeseung shouted together every time your team scored. He barely even noticed his voice getting hoarse, or the way his hands kept clenching the balloon tighter every time you made a play. All he knew was that you were out there, and everything else in the world felt like it was moving too fast to matter except that.

In the middle of the match break, Jake stayed frozen in his seat, eyes locked on your back as you stood near the sidelines. The number nine on your jersey stood out clearly. Your coach was talking to you at a steady pace, gesturing toward the court while you drank water from your bottle, nodding along with full focus even though your attention still seemed half on the ongoing match. Jake noticed everything—the way your shoulders rose and fell with controlled breathing, the way your grip tightened slightly around the bottle, and especially the way your eyes kept drifting back toward his direction every few seconds.

Something about it made his entire body feel strange.

The atmosphere in the stadium was still heavy, but inside Jake's chest everything suddenly felt... lighter. He didn't fully understand it, just that his thoughts slowed down in the middle of all the noise, like someone had briefly turned the volume of the world down just enough for him to breathe properly. Even his grip on the balloon loosened slightly without him noticing. And then, just as you turned away from your coach and started walking back toward the court, you gave him a soft smile.

Outside of this moment, people might've laughed at him for it, told him he was just being stupidly emotional, maybe just too deep in whatever this feeling was. They'd probably say it was just excitement, or he was just being corny in love. But Jake knew it wasn't that simple. It didn't feel chaotic the way nerves usually did.

It felt like the universe was saying something without using words.

He watched you step back onto the court, adjusting your position, rolling your shoulders once like you were resetting yourself completely. The light caught your face again, the sweat, the focus, the calm intensity in your eyes that made you look even more unreal than before. Pretty wasn't even enough of a word for it anymore in his head—it didn't feel big enough. Jake swallowed slightly, and his chest still felt oddly calm despite everything happening around him.

If passing down luck was possible, he'd give it all to you without hesitation.

But then again... you didn't look like someone who needed it.

Jake leaned forward slightly again, eyes tracking your movement as the whistle signaled the return of play.

Because deep down, he already knew it. One hundred percent. You were going to win.

"Oh ho ho ho! The Decelis Vampire is everywhere!"

The commentator's dramatic voice echoed through the stadium the moment you made another impossible receive, earning an explosion of screams from the audience. Jake breathed out shakily from his seat, fingers tightening around the edge of the banner resting on his lap as he stared at the scoreboard again. The difference between the two teams was still small enough to keep everyone tense, but something had clearly shifted after the last timeout. The second the whistle cut through the court again, Decelis moved like a completely different beast—every point started stacking one after another until even Isabella's side looked rattled trying to keep up.

You barely even felt your body anymore at this point.

The ball flew toward your side again and your feet moved before your thoughts could catch up, reacting after nearly two hours of nonstop rallies. Your hips still throbbed from the brutal spike you received earlier. Your knees burned too. Your shoulders felt heavy. One hour and forty minutes of constant passing, diving, receiving, running—it was exhausting enough to make your vision blur briefly every time the whistle paused.

You wanted to lie down. Just for a little while.

You turned your head for during the rotation shift and your eyes immediately found Jake again in the crowd. He wasn't screaming now like the others. He was sitting there quietly, staring at you with that same soft expression that always made your chest feel strangely warm no matter how exhausted you were. His hoodie was gone, exposing that ridiculous shirt with your face on it while his glasses reflected the lights.

And suddenly, more than resting— you wanted to go home. Home with him.

God knew what Jake probably sacrificed just to be here. You knew how sensitive he was with noise, how he usually avoided crowds because they overwhelmed him too quickly. He probably already missed his strict eight o'clock sleep schedule too, and judging from the dark circles faintly visible under his eyes even from the court, he was definitely running on pure determination alone right now.

Your chest tightened briefly at the thought.

Then the ball came flying toward your side again.

You inhaled sharply through your nose and threw yourself forward immediately, diving hard against the court floor to receive it cleanly before it could touch down. The impact stung violently against your body, but the sharp whistle blowing right after mixed instantly with the deafening screams erupting around the stadium.

"With the score of 58 and 61!" the announcer shouted over the roaring crowd. "Decelis advances their way to Nationals!"

Your teammates screamed immediately, some collapsing onto the floor while others tackled each other into hugs near the net. But while everyone else got swept into the excitement, you pushed yourself upright almost immediately, one hand clutching your hip as the pain shot through your side. Your entire body ached violently now that the adrenaline was wearing off, but you barely paid attention to it. Your eyes were already searching through the crowd.

Searching for one person.

Jake froze in his seat the second he realized you were walking directly toward his section.

At first, he genuinely thought maybe you were heading somewhere else. Maybe toward the cheering squad. Maybe toward your managers. But then you kept coming closer, eyes locked onto him so directly that his stomach immediately flipped hard enough to make him dizzy. Jake stood up hesitantly, nearly fumbling the balloon in his hands in panic.

"H-Hey—what are you—"

One of the sports organizers instantly moved when they noticed you approaching the spectator bounds, clearly about to stop Jake from stepping forward too far. But before they could say anything else, Heeseung grabbed the organizer by the shoulder with a grin already forming on his face.

"About fucking time." Heeseung snorted.

Jake barely even processed any of it, because the next thing he knew— you grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him.

Hard.

The entire stadium around him exploded louder somehow, a mixture of screaming, cheering, and scandalized reactions crashing together while cameras immediately started flashing toward your direction. Jake's brain completely short-circuited on the spot. His eyes widened for half a second in pure shock before he melted into it almost instantly, hands shakily grabbing your waist despite how badly they trembled.

He kissed you back immediately. Like he'd been wanting to do it forever.

The kiss wasn't neat either. It was breathless and messy. Jake could barely think properly through the pounding in his chest, through the warmth of your lips against his, through the realization that this was actually happening in front of thousands of people. Somewhere behind him, Heeseung was screaming like a maniac while the Decelis cheering squad lost their minds completely.

The moment the kiss broke, reality crashed back into your body all at once. The sharp pain shot through your hips agin, forcing a quiet wince out of you as your hand immediately clutched at your waist. Jake noticed instantly. His entire expression changed from happiness to panic in less than a second, hands carefully moving to steady you before you could lose your balance.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately as he held you closer against him.

"I want to go home," you muttered quietly instead, your forehead falling against the side of his neck as your body sagged closer to him.

Jake's breath caught instantly. The simple weight of you leaning into him like that nearly made his heart stop despite the worry crawling all over him. He adjusted his hold carefully around your waist, supporting more of your weight without even thinking about it.

"Let's get your hips checked by the medic first," he said softly, already glancing around for staff. "Y-You landed hard earlier..."

But before he could keep rambling nervously, you whisper tiredly against his neck. "I didn't expect to feel this much for you, Jake."

Everything inside him went warm, so suddenly that he physically felt it in his chest, that overwhelming fluttering sensation exploding all over again until his stomach twisted painfully with it. Jake swallowed hard, blinking rapidly behind his glasses while trying to process the words properly. God, you were going to kill him like this.

Carefully, almost shyly now despite the public eyes around you, Jake leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your forehead. "Me too...me too." His hand rubbed gently against your side afterward, thumb moving in slow comforting strokes while he silently lifted his other hand to signal one of the medics nearby for assistance.

EPILOGUE

It took you a long time to actually sit down and reflect on everything that had happened.

For years, you kept convincing yourself that luck was random—that some people were simply born under better stars while others just had to survive whatever scraps the universe threw at them.

Unlucky with money, unlucky in your love life, unlucky in your sex life.

Things never came easily for you. Even when people admired you—your skills, your looks, your confidence on the court—they never really saw the exhausting parts underneath it. The loneliness. The constant feeling that you always had to fight twice as hard just to keep your head above water while pretending you were doing perfectly fine. Maybe that was why you became so cynical about all those stupid talks about fate, fortune, and luck. Maybe it was easier to roll your eyes and call everything bullshit rather than admit that deep down, you were terrified the universe simply wasn't built in your favor.

But maybe luck wasn't random at all.

When you really thought about it, you had spent so much time expecting disappointment that you stopped recognizing the good things while they were happening. You focused too hard on what was missing instead of what stayed. Sure, being broke sucked. It absolutely fucking sucked. And no amount of positive thinking magically fixed empty wallets, bruised feelings, or difficult lives. But somewhere along the way, you realized you had also started carrying your own unhappiness like proof that life owed you something cruel.

Maybe you lacked optimism. Maybe you lacked faith in anything getting better because the universe kept throwing the same shit at you over and over again until you got tired of trying to hope differently. That feeling was valid too. You had every reason to become guarded after everything. Every reason to distrust happiness when it rarely stayed long enough before. But lucky people... they weren't always lucky because life was easier for them. Sometimes they were lucky because they allowed themselves to reach for things anyway. To risk failure. To risk doing something. Even when they are afraid. 

"Open! Open! Daily cleaning at 9:00 AM!"

A long groan dragged out of your throat as the tiny robotic voice echoed outside the bedroom for what felt like the tenth time already. The curtains were still completely shut, the blackout fabric drowning the room in soft darkness despite the late morning sun outside, and you had been enjoying every second of sleeping. The apartment was comfortable and so warm, and honestly, you would rather die than get out of bed right now. But the damn robot kept knocking itself repeatedly against the door with persistence, its tiny speaker chirping louder every few seconds.

"Jake," you mumbled sleepily, eyes still closed as you reached behind you to tap the arm wrapped tightly around your waist, his legs tangled carelessly with yours beneath the blanket. You felt him stir a little, burying his face deeper into the back of your neck while muttering something under his breath, but the knocking outside only continued. "Jake, make Mo stop," you complained softly, but instead of moving, he only tightened his hold around you and pulled you closer against his chest with a sleepy little sigh.

"Open! Open! Daily cleaning at 9:00 AM!"

"Jake, baby," you called again, dragging the word out this time while lightly smacking his wrist. He groaned lowly against your shoulder, clearly refusing to leave the bed, and his hand slowly slipped underneath your shirt just to lazily trace circles against your stomach. The touch made you exhale softly despite yourself.

Outside, the robot continued its relentless banging, but Jake ignored it completely, pressing slow kisses against the side of your neck instead. His morning voice came out quieter than usual, rough and soft all at once as he whispered, "Can I touch?"

You groaned again but gave him a small nod anyway. The second he got permission, his hand slid higher, squeezing gently at your chest while his lips continued wandering across your skin with lazy affection. You tilted your head back slightly, giving him more room, and he took full advantage of it immediately, kissing along your jaw before lifting his sleepy eyes toward you. His glasses were missing somewhere on the nightstand, his brown hair sticking out everywhere. "Kiss, please," he whispered lazily, already leaning closer before you could even answer.

You kissed him just to shut him up.

Jake immediately melted into it with a soft whine. His lips moved slowly against yours, still half-asleep, but it quickly deepened when his hand tightened around your waist and pulled you on top of him. The blanket shifted around your tangled bodies while the robot outside continued yelling about cleaning schedules. Jake kissed like he was addicted to it now, messy and affectionate and greedy all at once. Even after years together, he still kissed you with the same overwhelming softness that made your chest ache.

And honestly, both of you already knew one thing for sure. Jake absolutely loved kissing you.

"Open! Open! Daily cleaning at 9:00 AM!"

You groaned softly against Jake's lips before finally pulling away from the kiss, your forehead still resting briefly against his while you tried to gather enough energy to function properly. "Open the door for Mo," you muttered lazily as you pushed lightly at Jake's chest to make him move. Jake only huffed in protest, clearly offended at being forced out of bed, scratching messily at his hair before reaching around blindly for his glasses on the nightstand.

You stayed sprawled across the bed while watching him stand up with slow sleepy movements. His oversized white shirt hung loosely over his frame, exposing his legs beneath the thin black shorts he had thrown on before sleeping, and you couldn't help staring for a second as he shuffled toward the door. The moment he opened the bedroom door, Mo immediately rolled inside without hesitation, spinning once before beginning its programmed cleaning route across the floor.

"You seriously need to stop adopting Heeseung's robots," you complained while sitting up properly, stretching your arms above your head until your back cracked pleasantly. "We can literally clean by ourselves."

Jake yawned loudly while adjusting his glasses up the bridge of his nose, already turning around to drag himself back toward the bed with clear intentions of trapping you there again. Before he could grab your waist, you quickly stood up and reached for your shorts from the floor. "Jake, it's already nine," you reminded him while pulling them on. "Training starts at one. I still need to fix my stuff and prepare."

A long miserable whine immediately left his throat at that.

Jake had become even clingier than before. Not that you were complaining. Things had changed between the two of you. Jake no longer slept exactly at eight in the evening because most nights ended with both of you curled together on the couch watching movies until late, stealing kisses during slow scenes, or getting distracted halfway through and stumbling into the bedroom instead (sex). You did feel a little guilty sometimes since he used to be so strict with his routines, but Jake always brushed it off immediately whenever you brought it up.

Honestly, the man acted like a giant koala now.

The second you moved too far away from him, he would cling right back onto your side without shame. While you were fixing your hair in front of the mirror, Jake wrapped both arms around your waist from behind again, pressing his face against your shoulder while Mo continued cleaning nearby. "Stay in bed," he mumbled weakly against your skin, still sounding sleepy. You snorted softly at the feeling of him practically hanging his whole weight onto you, but your hand still reached up automatically to fix the messy strands of his hair away from his glasses.

"You say that every morning," you muttered.

"Because every morning you leave me," Jake replied dramatically, tightening his hold around your waist while you laughed quietly under your breath.

Your eyes drifted past Jake's shoulder toward the wall, landing on the collection of medals, framed certificates, and trophies lined neatly across the shelves. Some were old awards from high school, others were from university tournaments, and a few still had ribbons tangled together because you had been too lazy to organize them properly after Nationals. Jake had insisted on displaying every single one of them anyway, even the participation plaques you thought looked ugly. You smiled quietly to yourself before looking back at your boyfriend standing in front of you,. Sometimes it still hit you unexpectedly—how impossible this whole thing used to feel.

Who could thought? You had your six months of sharing an apartment with someone who barely looked you in the eyes.

Back then, you genuinely thought Jake would remain nothing more than the quiet engineering student that have an addiction to legos and hot wheels. And now? Now he stood in your apartment kitchen every morning half-asleep while cooking your meals, whining whenever you left the bed too early, kissing your forehead.

Jake became your person.

You stepped closer and pressed a quick kiss against his lips before walking past him toward the living room. Jake immediately followed after you without hesitation, dragging his feet lazily across the floor while scratching the back of his neck. You crouched beside the fish tank to feed your fish while listening to the familiar sounds of him moving around the kitchen behind you. Jake had developed this habit of cooking both your breakfast and lunch every single training day no matter how many times you told him he didn't have to. He always answered the same way too.

"I want to."

After feeding the fish, you returned to your bedroom to finish packing your things for training, tossing extra clothes and towels into your duffel bag while mentally checking your schedule for the day. You were halfway through folding your jersey when something bumped gently against your ankle. Looking down, you immediately recognized the small robot staring up at you with glowing blue eyes.

Bumble tilted slightly like it was waiting for attention, the tiny camera blinking while its mechanical voice chirped softly. "Hi!"

"Jake, the food," you called out immediately while staring directly at the robot's camera.

You heard his laugh from the kitchen almost instantly.

A few seconds later, Jake appeared in your doorway with that stupid soft smile on his face, walking straight toward you just to lean down and steal another kiss. He adjusted the whistle hanging around your neck afterward, fingers brushing gently against your skin before stepping back. "Ay yay, captain," he teased quietly, earning an immediate scoff from you despite the smile pulling at your lips.

Nationals still sat heavily in your chest sometimes.

Third place. Not first. Not the championship everyone had dreamed about during those exhausting practices and sleepless nights. It had hurt watching the seniors cry after the final match, hurt even more realizing that people like Karina, Winter, Ryujin, Yeji, and Yunjin were really leaving now that graduation had finally caught up to them. Every practice lately carried this strange emptiness that you still hadn't fully adjusted to. You missed them badly if you were being honest. No future teammates, no future victories, no future season would ever replace the bond all of you built together.

But endings did not always mean loss. That was something life had slowly forced you to understand.

After finishing your packing, you wandered out of your room and toward Jake's almost absent one out of pure habit. The door was slightly open already. It had honestly been a while since Jake actually slept here properly considering he spent nearly every night tangled in your bed instead. Still, the room looked painfully like him—organized in his own way and filled with little traces of the things he loved.

Your eyes drifted toward the transparent shelves mounted carefully against the wall. Hot Wheels lined up in neat rows beside completed Lego builds he had spent hours working on during stressful nights, some of them gifts from you, others things he proudly bought himself after passing difficult projects or exams. Mo sat charging quietly near his desk now beside scattered engineering blueprints, and one of your old volleyball wristbands was looped carelessly around its antenna. You smiled softly at the sight before dropping yourself onto his bed with a tired sigh, sinking into the familiar mattress while staring up at the ceiling.

It only took a few seconds before the bed dipped beside you.

Jake crawled in next to you without a word, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist. His chin rested against your shoulder while his legs tangled with yours. "It's honestly useless renting a separate room when you basically live in my bed now," you muttered with amusement while turning slightly toward him. Jake only hummed quietly in agreement, tightening his hold around you instead of denying it. "And both of us are graduating soon too... oh my God."

No more university tournaments. No more scrambling through deadlines and practices and late-night study sessions with Jake. Life was shifting again, slowly moving forward whether you were ready or not. For a moment the room fell quiet and when you looked back at Jake, you noticed him staring at you strangely.

You frowned slightly under the weight of his gaze. "Is there a problem?"

"I love you," he said immediately, without hesitation, like breathing.

The words came out so naturally now compared to before. No stuttering. No panic. No fumbling over syllables while avoiding eye contact. Jake said it softly but confidently, eyes fixed completely on yours. Your expression softened almost instantly, and you moved closer to wrap your arms around him properly. "I love you too, silly," you murmured while caressing his cheek gently with your thumb.

Jake leaned into your touch immediately.

"Remember when you told me before..." he started quietly. "About not knowing what to do after volleyball?" Your brows lifted slightly at the sudden topic change, but you nodded anyway while continuing to stroke his hair back from his forehead. Jake swallowed before continuing. "I wanted to say a lot back then. I just couldn't." He laughed weakly at himself before looking back at you again. "But you can literally do anything. You could teach, or coach, or maybe start some weird fish business—"

You snorted softly.

"Jake," you interrupted with a smile. "I already told you. I'm planning to continue volleyball professionally. I'm aiming for the league now. I'm not stopping."

"—Or maybe..." Jake suddenly cut in quietly.

His arms loosened around you.

"Live with me."

Your smile faltered slightly in confusion as you slowly pushed yourself upright on the bed. Jake followed your movement immediately, but instead of sitting beside you again, he slid off the mattress completely. Your eyes widened the second you realized what he was doing.

Jake was kneeling on the floor.

"Jake," you said slowly, staring at him in complete disbelief while your heartbeat immediately started climbing into your throat. He looked nervous all over again for the first time in years, hands visibly shaking while he pushed his glasses higher up his nose. His cheeks were already bright red, his breathing uneven, but he still kept looking directly at you despite how terrified he obviously was.

Then he reached into his pocket.

"Oh my God," you whispered instantly.

"I have a proposition to make," Jake breathed out nervously. His fingers shook so badly while opening the small velvet box that you were half afraid he was going to drop it onto the floor entirely. But the second the lid flipped open, your breath caught hard in your throat. A ring rested inside, and the sight of it hit you so suddenly that your eyes immediately started burning with tears.

Jake noticed instantly and panicked a little.

"I-I will support you through everything," he rushed out quickly, voice trembling while he looked up at you from the floor. "Your league, internationals, all of it. I swear I will. I-I'll keep loving you, deeply, openly..." His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his own eyes glossy now behind his glasses. "I know you'll probably think this is too early—"

"Jake, no," you interrupted immediately, shaking your head so fast your vision blurred slightly. The tears were already slipping down your cheeks now, but he misunderstood the reaction immediately because of course he did. Jake's face fell for a split second, panic flashing all over his expression before he hurriedly continued speaking again.

"But it doesn't mean we have to do everything immediately," he said quickly, almost pleading now as he shifted closer on his knees toward the bed. "I just... I want a future with you... Live with me? Not as roommates anymore, but really with me. As my lover. My person." His voice softened shakily near the end, his eyes refusing to leave yours despite how emotional he looked now. "And someday... as my wife."

The room suddenly felt too small for your heartbeat. For a second, all you could do was stare at him kneeling there beside the bed—the same quiet boy who once could barely survive a single conversation with you now looking at you like you were the center of every future he wanted. Jake's hands were still trembling around the ring box while he waited, breathing unevenly, clearly trying not to completely spiral if you stayed silent too long.

A wet laugh escaped your mouth suddenly as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand. "You're so fucking unfair," you whispered shakily, which immediately made Jake look even more nervous. His lips parted like he was about to apologize again, but before he could spiral into another overthinking breakdown, you grabbed his face with both hands.

"Jake," you said softly.

He froze completely beneath your touch.

"You are already my home."

Jake's eyes widened so much it almost made you laugh again through your tears. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again uselessly while staring at you like he couldn't process what he was hearing. You smiled weakly before leaning down until your forehead rested against his.

"Yes," you whispered.

Jake blinked once. "...Yes?" he repeated weakly, sounding completely stunned.

"Yes, idiot," you laughed through your tears, and the second the words fully registered in his brain, Jake let out the most broken, overwhelmed noise you had ever heard from him before immediately grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. The ring box nearly fell from his hands from how hard he hugged you, his face burying against your stomach while his entire body shook with relieved laughter.

"Oh my God," he kept mumbling breathlessly against you. "Oh my God, oh my God..."

You buried your fingers into his messy hair while laughing softly yourself, overwhelmed and emotional and ridiculously happy all at once. Jake pulled back just enough to shakily slide the ring onto your finger, his hands still trembling the entire time. The moment it settled perfectly in place, he stared at it like he genuinely couldn't believe it was real.

Then his eyes slowly lifted back toward you again. "My fiancée," he whispered, sounding completely in awe of the words alone.

Unlucky with money, unlucky in your love life, unlucky in your sex life. The same "bad luck" that used to follow you around had somehow led you here anyway, step by step, mistake by mistake, person by person.

Those were bad luck. And bad luck is temporary.

You smile and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss against Jake's forehead. Ha, you're not out of luck either, aren't you?

You have Jake. Your good bestest luck.

And a good bestest luck lasted a lifetime.

NOTE: you reached the end, yay! thank you for loving the lucky family! (reader, jake, whitey, pinky, bumble, guppy and mo hehe) :) this is not really my best story but i definitely enjoy writing nerd jekjek and building their world! i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing. love lots!!! - shi

[simjakedly]

mark me yours - l.hs (part 3)

— a spin-off from love me (k)not

main masterlist | part 1 | part 2

synopsis. heeseung finally knows the taste of betrayal.

pairing. alpha!heeseung x omega!female reader

genre(s). omegaverse, fated mates, strangers-to-lovers, fluff, angst, smut

warnings. MDNI (there'll be a warning cut), heavy angst, alpha!jay being our target again i'm so sorry this is the last time i promise!, tw: nosebleed, softdom!heeseung because i love soft doms, p in v, fingering, missionary AND doggy because why not, unprotected sex (haih pls just don't), loss of virginity, nipple sucking, body worshipping, BITING, MARKING, BITE-MARK, heeseung cries a lot good lord but he deserves it lowkey, LIKE BONNIE AND CLYDE MAKIN' LOVEEE (insert hoonwon's voice), yes they make love your honour, and yes it's a happy ending your honour, not beta read we die like injang, tumblr pls stop with your 1000 blocks limit im gna come at you!!! lmk if i missed anything :>

word count. 15,175 words

note. i'm sorryyyyyyy for the delay sjshidshk here's the last part!!! thank you for showing this series your love and support <3

It’s finally the day of the competition.

Yet you haven’t heard from Heeseung for days.

You try not to make it obvious, nor to show how much you care. Not when Jungwon wouldn’t say anything either.

The younger alpha has been replacing Heeseung instead, walking you home while chatting about anything but the elephant in the room.  

Or, in your case, the wolf in your universe.

There’s a lump of disappointment lodging in your chest whenever you think about it. You think that Heeseung has finally given up on trying to make up. You think that you’ve been too indifferent and unintentionally have pushed him away further than the two of you have ever been.

You don’t know why the thought makes you feel bitter.

“Our pitching is next,” Jungwon whispers next to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You watch the group before you begin their pitching presentation.

In the first stage, the pitching was done in separate rooms to make it less time-consuming. But your group has advanced to the final stage, and now you have to convince five professionals from the business industry why your business idea is better than three other groups in front of hundreds of audience.

The image makes your blazer suddenly feel too tight around your ribs. You shift, trying not to think about the eyes watching every movement of the participants sitting on the far end of the stage.

Where the hell did this many people come from, anyway? You never see this crowd in lecture halls!

“Y/N. You’re nervous.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“Well, you don’t really smell like you’re relaxed right now.”

You purse your lips. Jungwon is right, of course, except you actually feel like your nerves are on the edge of bursting.

You’re not exactly good with stage fright. Especially in front of all these people whose names sound way too dramatic, like they don’t belong to the normal citizens like you. Their eyes are too penetrative, like they’re already figuring out every single doubt and nerves in your body, ready to tackle with impossible-to-answer questions.

You move in your seat again, trying to find comfort. But the seat is too hard for your tailbone. Beside you, Jungwon leans closer, speaking over the speaker blasting by your ears.

“Are you going to Jake hyung’s after party tonight?”

“His after party?” your eyebrows shoot up. Then you remember the invitation and something inside you sinks.

“Oh. Right. It’s his birthday today, right?”

And Heeseung must be there, you think bitterly, unaware of the withering daisies now wafting from your neck. They’re close friends, after all.

You don’t understand why, or you maybe actually do, but the lump in your chest only gets bigger. Really, you shouldn’t expect much by a man. They’ll always prioritise their homeboys over you in every way, your brain adds to the fuel.

Jungwon chuckles when he sees your frown, showing off his perfect dimples that could disarm any opponent. 

Something clicks in your mind. Yeap. That’s right. You just need to force Jungwon to smile in front of the judges and surely—

“Relax, Heeseung hyung’s daisy. Look to your right.”

You don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of his name finally being mentioned by the younger alpha, or the flutter in your chest at being called his daisy—but your head whips so fast in that direction, heart ramming behind your ribs.

Seated at the front row, standing out too much due to his handsome features and not-so-subtle hair colour, is Lee Heeseung. From where you sit, you can’t really make out his expression. 

But the alpha is already staring at you, burgundy hair swept back neatly to expose his forehead. A small curve of his lips quirks up like he’s been expecting you to notice him.

You sit dumbly as he gives you a tiny wave, not sure what to do now that the alpha is actually here. 

Here. To watch your group presentation and not there: To celebrate Jake’s birthday at his party.

For the first time in weeks, you feel your omega stirs and you almost choke.

“It’s our turn!” 

You inhale sharply, snapping your eyes back to the centre of the stage. The previous group is already receiving applause and walking towards the other end of the stage to join the audience. 

Okay. It’s actually your turn.

You feel sick to your stomach. You almost miss it when Jungwon nudges at you to stand, smoothing down his own blazer as he shoots you a dimpled smile. On the way to the centre of the stage, your mind is nothing more than a whirlwind of overthinking.

Trailing after Jungwon in your heels is nerve-wracking because what if you trip?

Bowing down to greet the judges and audience is scary because what if you lose your balance?

Staring back at the audience is distressing because what if they silently judge your makeup?

But all thoughts fly out the window when you meet eyes with Heeseung again.

As if the noise in your head suddenly vanishes, you can feel your frantic mind quieting down and your breathing, previously quite erratic, steadies without so much effort. 

And it only happens when Heeseung holds your gaze, trusting and comforting all at the same time.

It’s like the stage was a tidal wave and Heeseung was the shore that keeps you safe.

Your omega stirs again.

Before you know it, Jungwon is already passing the mic to you. You take in a shaky breath, sweaty palms almost slippery, and imagine that every cell in your brain is filing up your speech in a neat line.

Despite your worries, everything goes well.

Your presentation goes on without a hitch and it ends exactly the way your best-scenario imagination does. You even manage to answer one out of five questions from the panel, and you can’t help the pride swelling in your chest when your group is announced as the first runner-up of the competition.

It’s a national-level competition, so being in the top three is already satisfactory for you and your group members, who were lowballing to only bring home participation certificates.

“First runner up is good enough! Congrats!” you squeal, almost hugging Jungwon in your excitement. The alpha dodges you as if you were a bullet, eyes darting to somewhere behind your head.

“Hey. You dodged my hug,” you huff.

“I have no intention to challenge a dominant alpha,” Jungwon gives you a teasing smile and wiggles his eyebrows. You raise yours, and before you can ask what he means by that, Jungwon is already raising his hand and waving at someone.  

“Heeseung hyung! Your daisy is here!”

Your daisy. Heeseung hyung’s daisy. 

His daisy.

Crimson red blooms across your cheeks, and your heart decides to skip a few beats you think it’s going to fall to the floor from how fast it's pounding.

Jungwon is fast to grab your shoulders and turn you around, like a proud parent introducing their child to their conglomerate friends. Your protest dies in your throat once your eyes settle on Heeseung’s approaching figure.

He’s donning a white dress shirt with slightly rolled-up sleeves, exposing his smooth forearms and athin silver bracelet. A dark gray vest, tailored and buttoned neatly hugs his frame snugly, showing off his narrow waist. There’s a big bouquet of pink roses held close to his chest, handled delicately like it’s something sacred.

His eyes, round and soft around the edges, are already trained on you. A wide smile curves up his lips, charming and disarming you’re sure the omegas around you are stealing glances.

Inside, your omega stirs again.

“Hi, Y/N.” He holds out the bouquet to you, his smiling turning shy. “For you.”

You take it slowly, admiring the beautiful petals. There are tiny daisies filling up the spaces between the roses and you feel something tug at your heartstring.

 “Thank you, Heeseung. How’ve you been?”

Closer, only now do you notice the lack of colour in his face. His cheeks are losing its radiant flush, and his lips are void of its usual pinkish hue. There’s a slight delay before he responds and his smile comes slower than usual.

Something feels off. Not obvious enough to name, but it’s enough to make your chest tighten.

As if noticing your stare, Heeseung tries to cover his face. He raises his hand and pretends to cough.

“I was quite sick,” he says after a moment, trying to sound casual. He gives you a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry that I didn’t show up without any updates.”

“It’s okay,” you softly say. You don’t know if it’s truly okay, though, because now your heart thinks that there’s something wrong. 

Is he hiding something from you?

“I came to see you,” he says, like it’s the only place he’s ever meant to be. “I didn’t want to miss it. Congratulations, Y/N.”

He really came for you. Not for Jungwon or anyone. Not to Jake or anyone. But for you.

You can faintly hear your omega murmuring something, but your racing heart is louder than any noise in your head.

You’re about to reply when Jungwon inserts himself into the conversation, announcing his presence like a royal entering a ball.

“Thank you, hyung! I know we were great.” Jungwon says way too loudly, forcing Heeseung to shake hands with him. You let out a laugh while Heeseung only rolls his eyes.

“You too, Jungwon.”

“Anyway, why don’t we take a picture?” Jungwon, ever the trusted wingman, wiggles an eyebrow at Heeseung, hoping that you won’t notice. You actually do, but for some reason, you don’t say anything against it.

Heeseung studies your face. “Can I take a picture with you, Y/N?”

You hesitate for a second, heat sweeping across your cheeks before you nod. “Sure.”

Jungwon instantly pushes you in Heeseung’s direction. The dominant alpha, not expecting his accomplice to take such a bold move, catches you by the elbows instinctively. His fast reflexes are proving to be useful in the situation.

“Okay, look at the camera. Y/N, don’t be so stiff!”

Jungwon, that menace. One of these days you’re gonna beat his ass for sure.

“Heeseung hyung, is that a GDP gap? Get closer!”

“I’m sorry about him,” Heeseung whispers into your ears and chuckles breathily. Something kicks in your heart. “He’s a bit annoying, right?”

You just cannot hold your tongue. “He is, and I had to stick around with him when you weren’t around,” you catch yourself saying and silently curse yourself. Beside you, Heeseung stills for a second.

Why are you already whining to him? Fuck these stupid feelings, man. You’re still mad at him!

But Heeseung doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his grin only gets wider. He leans down further, hot breath brushing against the shell of your ears.

“I’ll keep trying,” he murmurs, edged with his usual determination. “Even if you don’t let me.”

You try not to notice that Jungwon has been silently snapping the candid moments. You also try to ignore the way your heart beats like a war drum. You try not to think too much about the manly pheromones coming from Heeseung—the cinnamon and sea salt that are awakening old memories, and the way his taller shoulder brushes yours.

“On three!” Jungwon interrupts, a boyish smirk on his face. You quickly clear your throat and smile at the camera.

“Two!”

Heeseung’s left shoulder bumps into you softly from behind, angling his body to face you. His hand hovers a safe distance from the back of your waist, not touching you even by accident like he’s afraid even that would be too much.

“One!”

As the flash goes off and you hold the bouquet dearly to your chest, you quietly wonder when it stopped hurting so much.

The next morning, you’re awakened by the sound of Yujin squealing and thumping on your door.

“Y/N! Get your fucking ass out now!”

The urgency in her voice makes you jolt awake and scramble to your feet. With sleepiness still clinging to your lashes, you stumble to the door, mentally preparing yourself to punch a robber.

“Yujin! What is it?!” you ask, voice hoarse but still laced with panic.

“Did you already make up with Heeseung?!”

You pause and stand there dumbly, hazy mind slowly clearing up at her sudden interrogation. With the biggest question mark on your face, you blurt out, “Huh?”

“Heeseung posted you on his Instagram!”

“Huh?”

“Y/N! He never posted girls on his account!” Yujin screams in your face, looking more excited than ever. “Fucking hell, open your damn phone!”

Yujin rushes into your room, flipping your pillows where she knows you always keep your phone despite the electromagnet radiation that she warns you about. She unlocks the screen by shoving it into your bleary face and hits the pink-purple-orange gradient icon quickly.

“There!”

You blink the blurriness away from your eyes, adjusting to the bright screen in your face. Yujin waits impatiently, gauging your reaction with wide eyes.

On the screen is the picture you took last night. You haven’t checked the result yet because you were quickly ushered away to take group pictures with other participants after and by the time you reached home, you were out the moment your head hit the pillow.

But now, you realise, the picture turns out really well. 

Heeseung stands taller than you, a close-lipped smile spreading wide across his face as he stood proud and protective beside you. You have a similar smile mirroring his, leaned into him in a way that hinted at familiarity and domesticity. The pop of colour from the roses makes the picture look more alive, and the colour filter he used makes it look almost nostalgic.

An ancient feeling, like a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled, blooms in your chest. You stare at the picture longer than intended, then read the caption he typed in cursive.

‘smarty daisy did it again.’

You re-read it once. Then twice. The soft declaration, the hints on intimacy makes your omega purr in delight. Nobody has ever called you daisy, especially their daisy, but here Heeseung is: calling you his daisy like he’s just found a new favourite flower.

“Yujin…”

To your surprise, Yujin replies with a sniffle. When you look up, her eyes are already glossed over.

“Yujin? Why are you…”

“I’m sorry I got emotional,” Yujin cuts in, laughing it off like a funny joke with a shaky voice. 

“It’s just—I never met true mates. And while the circumstances between you two weren’t great, I’m just so glad  that you have an alpha willing to amend his mistakes.”

You can already feel your eyes watering.

“Yujin…”

Yujin takes your hands in her hold and urges you to sit on the mattress with her. It’s silent for a moment, and you take the chance to stare at the picture again.

It’s an Instagram story, but there is already a long line of comments. You read through each one of them, curiosity getting the best of you.

narin.kim no fucking way

jakesimisimiya hey so u ditched me ON MY BDAY

jeyipark @jakesimisimiya talk to me i am his lawyer

just.jungwon cute cute cuteeeee wonder who took the pic tho

evanlee @just.jungwon she is cute

nishimurariki welcome to the simp club

sunooyaa it’s time to ask me if my back hurts from carrying this ship

Every comment makes your breath feel shorter. You try hard to bite back a smile and ignore the small flutter in your chest, not noticing the way Yujin observes everything. When she eventually speaks, her voice has dropped to a serious tone.

“Have you forgiven him?”

You tear your eyes away from your phone, taking a moment to reply. Then, with a shake of your head, you reply, “No. Not yet, I think.”

It’s not a whole lie. While the human part of you has already forgiven him, your omega is still giving you radio silence. But for now, you decide to keep it to yourself first—the way your omega has been more responsive these days, albeit slowly and slightly.

“That’s good,” Yujin nods. “Forgiveness should come from your heart. You shouldn’t force it just because you feel bad for him.”

The words land like a gentle reminder tucking you in a warm blanket. You don’t say anything and look back at the screen, thumb hovering over the reply box. The gears of your mind start turning, looking for a polite way to thank the alpha.

Then, softly, Yujin continues, making your head spin with the weight of her words for the rest of the day.

“But when it’s really time to forgive him, I hope you don’t run away from it too.”

You end up reposting Heeseung’s story and hide.

The attention is quite heavy for you, to be honest. You’ve never been the centre of that many eyes, not since in the backyard of Jake’s frat house.

You never dare ask Heeseung as well. A reply of, ‘Thank you Heeseung’ is all you can manage, keeping the rest of the sentence to yourself.

‘Why did you post only me?’

You’re not blind. You see the chaos he created from that single post. The notorious alpha who doesn’t do relationships, who always prioritises his friends over girls is suddenly skipping Jake’s birthday to see a boring competition and posting a picture with the omega he came for. You become a hot sensation overnight—people just can’t stop talking about it.

Because of that, thoughts about him become even more frequent and inevitably, your heart starts to melt at how persistent he is.

It’s been more than a month yet Heeseung doesn’t falter. He keeps choosing you in routine. He keeps choosing you in public.

And, apparently, he chooses you in private, too.

You don’t mean to overhear the conversation, really. You’re just leaving the restroom during practice break, about to have lunch with Rei when you see two shadows disappearing around the corner. Your heart almost stops.

Seeing Heeseung and Narin together brings back old wounds that almost makes you lose your mind. Your quiet omega has been tugging you to follow, to see what the alpha is doing with the omega that your wolf has marked with a red ink on her forehead.

So you follow them quietly, covering your scent gland with a hand in hope to hide your presence. With your back to the wall, you hold your breath as you hear the conversation between the two of them.

“—on, Heeseung. You left things unfinished that night.” Narin’s voice is the one you hear first, frustration spilling into her tone.

“I don’t intend to finish it,” Heeseung replies, always sounding calm and composed. It painfully reminds you of the talk you had with him after the tournament.

“Why? You always sleep with different people. Why did I never get a chance?” Narin scoffs, disbelieving. “And they've been saying that you’ve stopped!”

“I have. I don’t do that anymore.”

“Is it because of Y/N?”

Your ear perks up. Damn bro, they’re now talking about you. It slips from your mind sometimes, about how childish Narin can be. Something akin to anticipation builds up in your chest, waiting for Heeseung’s reply.

“Yes,” he answers, firm and fast. “I’m pursuing her right now. I hope that’s clear.”

There is silence from Narin, but the spike in her scent sours the atmosphere almost instantly. While you, well, you try not to feel so giddy about it.

“Are you stupid? Her? Didn’t she cut the—”

“What happened between Y/N and I is a private matter of our hearts. It’s not your business,” Heeseung cuts in sharply with a bite to his voice. Your omega shifts inside you. “Are you done? Because I’m leaving.”

Panic ensues in your system at the thought of being caught eavesdropping. Your mind scrambles for escape, so without thinking you almost sprint to the vending machine at the end of the hallway and pretend to buy a drink.

Acting like you don’t notice them while catching your breath proves to be the hardest sport for you yet. You stare blankly at the vending machine, unaware of the grape juice sitting right under your nose and fully aware of the manly pheromones approaching you.

Thank Goddess that he smells like himself only. You think you’re going to break down if Narin’s scent clings onto him.

“Are you thinking of a different drink?” Heeseung murmurs softly, standing beside you and mimicking you staring at the machine.

You steal a glance at him, feeling the movement of your wolf becoming more responsive and bold. Behind your ribs, your heart is galloping like a horse.

“No. I still like grape juice.”

“Mhm, okay,” Heeseung fishes out his wallet and makes the purchase like it’s routine. The impact of the can dropping can’t even beat the loud pulse racing in your ears. Heeseung opens the can with one hand.

“For you.”

“Thank you.”

You take it, fingers brushing his. You try not to overthink the sparks the touch sends to your system and quietly drink, feeling his eyes boring into the side of your face.

“Y/N, I have something to tell you,” he begins, this time sounding slightly nervous. “Narin and I talked just now.”

Oh. Okay. He’s actually coming clean about it.

You didn’t expect that at all.

You nod, still not looking at him. Heeseung takes a second to himself, like he’s plotting something, then before you know it, he’s already moving to stand in front of you, bending his body to be on your eye-level. 

You almost choke and take a step back.

“Heeseung?”

“I need you to look into my eyes,” he licks his lips, holding your eyes with his intense gaze. “Because I need you to know that you’re the only omega I like and I’m pursuing.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost too much, but you find savouring it instead.

“And I made that clear to her just now.”

Is he trying to reassure you?

You search his face, and all you can see in those dark eyes is utter devotion and determination.

It makes your chest tighten.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I will keep trying no matter what.”

You can only hum and nod, failing to find your voice.

“Okay.”

Heeseung shoots you with a small grin and straightens up. He glances at his smartwatch and frowns.

“I have to skip tonight’s practice. There’s a meeting about the upcoming music festival,” he says, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I’ll find someone to walk you home.”

“It’s okay. I’ll use the Safe Night Walk service,” you politely decline, already sick of hearing Jungwon talking about his lifelong crush on some noona that won’t see him as a man every time he walks you home.

Seriously, you don’t blame that omega. Jungwon is really cute, it’s hard to see him more than a kitty cat.

Heeseung’s face, on the other hand, twists into confusion before a look of understanding crosses his face. 

Safe Night Walk is a service provided by the omega activist club of your university. The purpose is pretty self-explanatory, where any omega who’d like to go home at night can request an alpha to keep them safe. It’s pretty well-known for how rigid the alpha selection process is, seeing as the new president of the club is the fiercest to hold the title yet, making the service the most credible it has ever been.

Which is probably why Heeseung agrees to it too easily.

“Oh, right. Jay also tried for the selection, but he never told me if he passed or not,” Heeseung pauses, pondering about something.

“Sunghoon also signed up for it and we know each other. Do you want me to contact him?”

You wave a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll get someone when it’s time to go home.”

It’s quite hard to convince the alpha that you don’t need his friend’s service, but Heeseung eventually relents. He gives you a fond smile, walking backwards and not breaking eye contact.

“Call me if no alpha is available.”

“Okay.”

“I will run to you in ten minutes. No—five minutes.”

Your heart stutters, but your face remains neutral. “As if you can do that.”

Heeseung grins. The easy affection etched in his features is almost too scary for you to bear.

“For you, I will.”

The shared apartment is quiet save for the track playing from his producer room. Heeseung lies down on his couch, staring at the ceiling in silence. His lyrics notebook sits idly on the coffee table, open and now forgotten. Outside, the rain pouring down does nothing to wash down his guilt.

He had lied to you.

He just came back from a doctor appointment, not a meeting about any festival. A checkup meant to follow up with his condition after the night he collapsed in Jay’s arms.

‘You only have two weeks to win the omega back. If nothing succeeds, you must cut the one-sided bond, Heeseung-ssi.”

Heeseung only wants to do one thing and cutting the bond is not an option. 

It’s better for him to die being yours than to live being nothing to you.

“I’m sorry,” he quietly mutters to the empty space.

“I ran away again,” he swallows thickly. “I’m still the old Heeseung in some ways. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

The pitter-patter of the rain is the only sound he receives back, thickening the guilt spilling over his chest.

He grazes the scent gland with the tip of his finger. It pulses slowly, faintly, like a calm before a storm. A storm that is just turning the key and entering the door.

“I’m home,” Jay announces, toeing off his shoes. There are tiny droplets of rain in his hoodie, but that’s not what catches Heeseung’s attention.

It’s the scent that lingers in his citrusy pheromones.

Soft daisies and sweet honey—unmistakingly you.

Jay smells like you.

Something churns violently in his stomach. 

Every silent breakdown, every secret insecurity of his best friend comes crashing down on him. His blood roars in his ears that Heeseung believes he’s seeing red.

In that one single sniff that he picks up with his sensitive nose, Heeseung almost thinks that the floor holding his weight is crumbling down. 

He springs up to sit, eyes narrowing down in his friend’s direction. His alpha is already growling, ready to take the other alpha down in a fight.

Jay, still oblivious to the storm building inside the house, throws Heeseung a smile. 

“Hee, just now—”

“Park Jongseong,” Heeseung starts slowly, trying to hide the hurt in his voice as he stands and approaches him slowly. “Why the fuck do you smell like her?”

Jay’s expression turns into confusion. He sniffs at the collar of his hoodie and—oh.

Oh.

Heeseung can’t stand the look of realisation on his face. It’s like being left out of something that should be his, something that only he should know and have. His chest twists sharply and before he can stop himself, he’s already shoving Jay into the wall, fists trembling with restraint.

“Jay,” he breathes out, his voice treading the edges of fear and heartbreak. “Please tell me why the fuck am I smelling Y/N on your right now.”

Despite his anger, Heeseung’s voice sounds way too broken. Anxiety cracks through his demeanour, and for a moment, Heeseung’s not sure if he wants to hear Jay’s answer. There is a thin veil of tears glossing over his eyes and his scent gland is throbbing violently, shooting pain all over his body.

It’s almost like he was back in the backyard, watching you scream in pain as you smelled another woman on him. Heeseung sobs, hating himself even more than he ever did.

Was this how you felt that night?

Jay claws at the hands around his collar, almost gasping for air.

“Heeseung—it’s not what you think—”

“Then tell me! Fuck!” he shouts, eyes pleading Jay desperately to prove him wrong.

The longer he smells the blend of your scent with Jay’s pheromones, the dizzier his head gets. His frantic heart is buzzing with the thoughts of being replaced, of losing yet another chance to make things right, of losing you.

His self-esteem, already in pieces since that tragic night, is filled with doubt and uncertainty to the brim.

Not you, please. Heeseung quietly prays. Please not you, Jay.

“I walked her home!” Jay yells, face red from how tight Heeseung’s gripping his collar. His wolf whines at the unexpected aggression from his closest alpha, confused and wounded from being treated like an enemy. “She used the Safe Night Walk service and I was one of the alphas on duty.”

Hearing that, Heeseung’s grip loosens a fraction, trying desperately to believe his friend.

“It’s raining so I lent her my hoodie.” Jay quietly mutters, losing the previous edge. There’s a look of hurt on his face now that he fails to mask. He searches Heeseung’s tearful face, dread growing in his chest.

Despite the aggression, Jay cannot find it in him to be upset when all he can see in his friend is fear and hurt.

“Please, Heeseung. I will never betray you like that.”

Heeseung bites his lips until it bleeds and finally lets go. Jay almost drops down to the floor, clawing at his throat for relief. His neck has turned deep red, bruised from Heeseung’s grip. 

Heeseung is strong even when he never admits it, the dominant traits in him giving him the advantage when his wolf is riled up. Jay is lucky that Heeseung didn’t use his commanding voice—he would’ve been helpless if it happened.

But deep down, Jay knows that Heeseung would never do that to him. They’re best friends, after all.

The air is thick and heavy with a dominant alpha’s wrath. Heeseung doesn’t even realise how sharp his scent has turned until he finds himself struggling to breathe.

There’s a ringing silence between the two alphas. Jay is still on the floor, chest heaving rapidly as he tries to process. Heeseung, on the other hand, is on the verge of breaking apart.

Quietly, the alpha mutters an apology.

“I’m sorry.”

Heeseung leaves the house in a storm of cinnamon and tearful bergamot, slamming the door so hard the frame rattles.

He’s never felt closer to death than tonight.

You take your time with your skincare. Or rather, you’re actually zoning out while tapping toner into your skin.

Your conversation with Jay still lingers in the back of your mind.

“Thank you for giving him a chance, Y/N. I was scared that you wouldn’t.”

What would happen if you didn’t?

You sigh and stare into the mirror. You’re freshly out of the shower and in your comfiest pajamas, yet a hint of Jay’s pheromones is still there. It seems that the rain doesn’t wash it away; it only makes it stick longer.

Inside, your omega shifts uncomfortably, unsettled by the scent of the foreign alpha. You roll your eyes.

“I know you hate it, but it can’t be helped when we haven’t forgiven him yet.” You grunt, capping your bottled product. “I mean, I already did, but since you’re like, my other half, I can’t just—”

Forgiven.

The toner slips from your hand and clatters on the floor. 

Your lungs freeze. 

“...What?”

I want to forgive him.

Slowly, a habit that you’re already accustomed to since that night, you place a hand on your chest. Your omega’s presence is more tangible now, like she’s finally arose from her deep slumber.

And she’s finally talking to you.

“Are you sure?” you start slowly, not wanting to offend the fragile soul. “We can take more time, you don’t have to feel rushed—”

I want my alpha, Y/N. I forgive him and I hope you do, too.

Every word fails you in that moment. You stand alone in your room, with only your wolf as your lifelong companion. There’s a strange feeling in your heart.

Something ancient. Something sacred. Something freeing.

A ghost of a smile grazes your lips.

“Idiot. I told you, didn’t I? The stubborn one out of the two of us is you.”

He hurt us badly, Y/N. Of course I had to stand on business.

“It’s better that you did,” you hum, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder. “Or else I probably won’t see this side of him and will only remember him as a bad alpha.”

Your omega doesn’t reply. In return, there’s a soft pulsing in your scent gland; something that hasn’t occurred in so long. You gasp.

But before you can process it, your phone rings, the noise slicing through the atmosphere sharply. You frown when you see that it’s your next-door neighbour, a fellow floormate that likes to borrow your detergent.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, oh my Goddess. Don’t come out!” she whisper-shouts, panic evident in her voice. “There’s an alpha outside of your door right now and he smells so bad. I think he’s dangerous. We’re about to call the security.”

Your heart drops. “What? Who?”

There’s a sound of movement and whispering before you hear a gasp.

“Okay, what the hell. It’s actually Heeseung and he’s crying,” your floormate says in disbelief. You, on the other hand, are in bigger disbelief.

Heeseung? Didn’t Yujin already let him know that you’re home?

Your feet are already padding across the tiles of your apartment, heart beating in your lungs. 

“Y/N…I think you need to come out. He’s not moving at all.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

Your sweaty palm trembles at the doorknob. Heeseung’s pheromones, thick and definitely smells distressed—which explains why your neighbour said that he smells bad—seeps through the gap between the door and the floor. But he doesn’t knock, like he’s here only to feel your presence.

Your omega whines, restless from the distressed pheromones, eager to comfort. You take a deep breath before you yank the door open.

The scene that greets you almost makes you speechless.

Heeseung stands in front of you, head hanging low like he’s trying to make himself smaller. The hallways are filled with slightly open doors and heads peeking out; all the omegas and betas living on this floor are definitely curious about the distress-smelling alpha and his omega.

“Heeseung?”

He doesn’t respond at first. His breaths come out uneven—too sharp, too shallow—like his lungs have forgotten to work properly. For a second, you think he doesn’t hear you.

But then, he lifts his gaze slightly, holding back a storm behind his eyes as he looks into yours. His nose flares, and then his scent turns more sour.

“Heeseung?”

There, lingering too faintly under your body wash, your lotion, and your own scent like it’s already fading out slowly—is Jay’s pheromones.

Something finally shatters in his chest.

“You smell like him.”

His voice is grim and shaky, tugging at your heartstrings. You immediately know what he’s referring to and for some reason, an ugly feeling twists in yiur gut.

But before you can respond, Heeseung already drops to his knees. 

A chorus of gasps is heard across the hallways. The bystanders are no longer caring about being seen eavesdropping. You think you even see a phone directed your way, but it’s the least of your concern now.

“Heeseung—”

“I can take anything you do to me,” Heeseung’s voice cracks, barely holding it together. “I can take any punishment you want to give me but not this.”

Heeseung cranes his neck. Trails of tears clinging to his lashes are falling his nose, his cheeks, the side of his face, down to the floor.

“Please, not him. Please—I beg you.”

His face crumples, like he’s imagining the sight of you and Jay together in his mind.

“I can’t—” his breath stutters, chest heaving like it’s caving in on itself. “I can’t do it, Y/N. I thought I could take it. I thought I deserved it, but—”

His fingers curl into the fabric of his pants, knuckles turning white.

“It hurts,” he chokes out, voice breaking into something almost unrecognisable. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

Your heart lurches.

Because you know.

You know exactly what he’s feeling.

The suffocating ache. The betrayal that sits in your lungs and refuses to let you breathe. The way your mind spirals, painting images you don’t want to see but can’t stop imagining.

It’s the same pain.

The same one he put you through.

Heeseung lets out a broken sound, shaking his head like he’s trying to rid himself of it.

“I get it now,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “I get why you looked at me like that. I get why you—”

Heeseung cuts himself off. This time, a more pained, more broken noise slips past his lips.

“I get why you ended it.”

Everything hurts. His scent gland is angry red, throbbing endlessly like a sign of the real ending. His head pounds sharply and his lungs—oh Goddess, Heeseung can’t breathe.

His body sways. Instinctively, you crouch down to his level and catch him before he can fall. Panic fills up your system when a trickle of crimson blood starts peeking out of his nose.

No. No, please no. Not this again.

You cup his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks shakily. You turn your face and shout at your neighbour to call the ambulance or anyone—you just can’t let this happen.

You can’t let Heeseung go through the same pain you did.

“Heeseung, please don’t close your eyes.”

His head weighs heavier as he lolls forward, eyes almost snapping shut. You let his head rest on your shoulder, not caring about the blood now staining your shirt. Hot tears brim along your lashline.

“Heeseung, please—”

“Please forgive me,” Heeseung whispers weakly into your ears. The pain is unbearable, crushing his bones and penetrating his system like a sharp-end disease—an inevitable reaction from smelling another alpha on you.

So this is what you went through, he thinks wistfully. You must be in so much pain.

“Please forgive me, Y/N.”

“Where’s the ambulance?!” You finally break, cheeks wet with tears. Heeseung has completely gone still in your embrace, adding panic to your system. You reach out to hold his face.

“No, no, please.”

The lower part of his face is smudged red. His eyes close shut, still leaking out his tears even in his unconsciousness.

You let out an ugly sob, feeling utterly broken and scared.

“I forgive you, Heeseung. Please.”

You’re so fucking scared. Scared of losing yet another life you could’ve had when you were so close to having it.

Scared of not having the chance to love and to be loved again, this time with the person your soul chooses and not because fate says so.

“Please don’t leave me again.”

When Heeseung comes to, you’re holding his hands, zoning out.

There’s a distant look in your expression. A thin air of sad, wilted daisies lingers, no doubt wafting from you. His wolf, having just woken up like him, immediately shifts restlessly in his chest at the scent.

Your thumb brushes over his knuckles absentmindedly, tracing the veins like you’re memorising something before it disappears again.

He stays quiet, letting his eyes trace every curve of your features. The pretty slope of your nose, the soft swell of your cheeks, the petals of your lips. Then they stop at your puffy eyes.

Something inside him twists uncomfortably.

Why does he always make you cry?

You don’t even notice that he’s awake yet, too lost in your head as you stare at the beige wall of the ward. Not until he squeezes your hand back, eager and nervous to see if you’ll return it back or let go.

When you feel the grip tighten, your eyes snap back to him. And then, like a small win that heals something in his heart, you squeeze his hand back.

Heeseung almost breaks down.

“You’re awake,” you say in relief and move to stand. “I’ll get the doctor.”

Heeseung obeys, never finding it in him to go against your words anymore. But his hand never lets go. He savours every second that you let him hold you—the closest he’s ever touched you since the night he saved you.

He doesn’t let go even as the doctor does a checkup on him. The doctor comes in with Jay, who looks as disheveled as he is. There’s an awkward atmosphere between the two alphas, but neither dares to say anything and lets the doctor do his job.

He was unconscious for twelve hours, apparently.

“The scenting from your omega helped speed up the recovery process,” the doctor elaborates. Heeseung steals a glance at you, gauging your reaction, but your face remains neutral. 

It’s no wonder that he’s been feeling at peace since waking up—you had been scenting him when he was out.

“You just need to stay for a blood test and then you’re good to go,” the doctor continues, flashing him with a reassuring smile.

Murmurs of thank-yous ripple in the room as the three of you watch the doctor take his leave. Shortly after, the tension returns, and it’s almost obvious to you that the suffocating air comes from the two best friends.

Jay shifts on his feet awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. “I’m gonna grab us lunch.”

Which leaves him alone with you in the room.

Heeseung braves himself and takes a look at you, but you’re already staring at him. Your stare unsettles him, like you’re waiting for him to confess for a crime he didn’t know yet he committed.

“How are you feeling?” you ask instead.

“I—I think I’m good. Yeah,” Heeseung says quickly, a bit taken aback. He watches as you nod, then inspect his face by blinking closer, oblivious to the way he almost explodes from the proximity.

When satisfied, you lean back slightly, but still keep a close distance with him.

“Heeseung.”

The temperature suddenly drops, and the serious look on your face damn near makes him cry. Heeseung tries to mask his panic.

Did he do something wrong again? Fuck. He messed up, didn’t he?

“Hm?”

You take a shaky breath. “Jay told me about everything.”

Heeseung freezes. Everything?

Everything as in the fight that almost broke out last night? Everything as in how pathetic he is for you, which shouldn’t be so shocking or earth-shattering because he is pathetic and a loser for you?

Or everything as in his worsening health condition?

For a moment, you just stare at him. But the more seconds pass, the more obvious it is that you’re holding back tears.

“About the two options you had.”

Heeseung stops breathing. True to his speculation, it is about his health condition. About the fate that he has to choose, about the options that stand between mercy and cruelty.

“Why didn't you tell me? No—” you shake your head, your grip on his hand trembling greatly. His lips remain shut.

“Why didn’t you just cut the bond?”

The sadness dripping in your scent feels almost physical. You hang your head low, enveloping the two of you with the distressed scent of your pheromones. A low whine echoes in your chest, not heard but felt. Your omega is just as destroyed as you are, utterly horrified from the choice he made.

What if you never forgive him? What would become of him? 

Heeseung brushes his thumb over your hand consciously, trying to seep his own calming pheromones into your troubled scent. It helps, he notices, as the tremble in your hands subsides, breath evening out.

Then, with a raw honesty, he answers.

“Because I didn’t want a life where you don’t exist in it.”

There’s a lump in your throat but you swallow it down, refusing to break now that you have the chance to understand. To understand the equally wounded alpha in front of you, flawed yet still trying. 

“I know that sounds selfish,” he adds quickly. “It is. I was choosing myself when I said that.”

You shake your head, tears threatening to escape. “You could’ve died, no—you almost died, Heeseung.” 

“I know.”

Heeseung doesn’t argue. He looks down to your joined hands, branding his brain with the image. A soft smile appears on his lips. He wishes he could hold your hands more often.

“I just…” he exhales shakily. “I thought if I let go of the bond, it would be like I never got the chance to love you at all.”

You squeeze his hand. Your alpha, you realise, is just as soft as you are. He’s always been. It was just misunderstood and misdirected—his flaws that almost cost you your life. You resented him for it, ran from him to avoid it, made it hard for him to save yourself.

But in the end, quietly, tenderly—you find yourself forgiving him.

You understand now; what he was afraid of.

For Heeseung who used to live in short-lived attachments and practiced detachment, loving someone would sound like a too-big responsibility for him. Too lost in his own fear—fear of loving someone so much they could have power over you—he made choices that hurt you.

It doesn’t justify his actions, nor did it undo everything. But understanding him softens the pain.

“You’re so stupid,” you finally whisper, but it breaks halfway through. Heeseung looks almost hurt from your comment.

“I already forgave you.”

His head snaps up but you don’t look at him.

You take your time to speak. “I already did for a while. I was just waiting for my omega to open up her heart,” you chance him a glance and smile wistfully. 

“And she did just before you came to my door last night.”

A beat of silence passes by. Heeseung can’t seem to find his voice, too stunned with the sudden grace being granted upon him. 

He searches your face. For any lies, for any possible fabrication. He’s desperate to know if this was all just fragments of his dream, if you were just a manifestation of his desperation to be forgiven.

But you’re real. You’re breathing, and you’re telling him that you’ve forgiven him.

“Is this…true?” he asks, voice sounding breathy. “Don’t forgive me just because you feel bad, Y/N. I can’t live with that.”

“No, you didn’t force me,” you shake your head, returning his gaze with built-up courage.

“You earned it.”

Your scent softens, sweeter now that you finally let it out. Like the anger finally loosens its grip on your chest, you can feel your omega melts, her walls crumbling piece by piece.

Heeseung stares at you, mouth slightly agape. The weight he’s been carrying finally cracks and finally, finally—breathing finally comes easy for him now that his chest loosens.

His alpha paws at him in joy.

“Thank you, Y/N. I—” his voice cracks, and so do the tears he’s been holding back. “Oh my Goddess—thank you for forgiving me.”

Heeseung hesitates before he slowly wraps an arm around your shoulder, gauging your reaction. When you don’t push him away, he pulls you closer and you let yourself fall into his embrace.

Heeseung buries his nose in your hair, and the familiar scent of daisies and honey and your hair wash only makes him sob harder.

“Can we try again? Please?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his waist, smiling into the hug.

“Mhm. Let’s try again.”

Trying again with Heeseung is soft and gentle.

Heeseung doesn’t change. If anything, he becomes more present than ever. If there was hesitation in his action before, he seems more confident to initiate things now.

Holding hands when you’re together. Tucking your hair behind your ears because ‘it hides your beautiful face’. Carrying your bag before you can even greet him properly. Bringing you food and trying to bake, even when you receive complaints from Jay about his oven almost catching on fire. But honestly, out of every failed experiments he did in the kitchen, it’s his ramyeon that you love the most.

And you always get it for free, presented like a five-star Michelin with radish and perfectly-made half-boiled egg. ‘Girlfriend privileges’ is what Sunoo called it, as he and the other alphas eat from their cup noodles.

With forgiveness, conversations come easy. Talking about everything and nothing with Heeseung is like trying to map a land. You finally get to know the story behind his jersey number. 

‘My mom always tells me that I’m her number one,’ he told you when you asked, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. ‘It sticks until now, but I know that he said that only because I was sulking about being the second son—they love my brother more, to be fair!’

You never thought that Heeseung could be cute and adorable. But the two now fit his description perfectly.

Sometimes, his old habits crawl back. Heeseung still finds it hard to tell you about things that bother him, still trying to run away from ugly emotions that make him feel vulnerable.

Just like right now, Heeseung is trying so hard not to pout as he watches his teammates grab a cookie from the Tupperware you bring.

When Riki reaches for a third, his resolve finally cracks and he slaps the alpha’s hand away.

“That’s enough, you greedy alpha. Shoo!”

You stifle a laugh, basking in the rare occasion where Heeseung shows his emotion almost openly like this. He doesn’t like sharing, of course, but he says nothing—which unsettles you a bit.

“Are you mad?” You finally ask after pulling him out for some privacy.

He doesn’t reply. Heeseung takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, then shakes his head.

“I’m not mad.”

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” you coax him again, reminding yourself that Heeseung is still trying to unlearn some of his bad habits. “I can’t fix anything if you don’t tell me.”

Heeseung gnaws at his lips and avoids your eyes. He knows, with a devastating resignation, that he could never refuse if he looks. So he doesn’t look.

But your scent does the same damage anyway. It’s sweet, it’s too intoxicating and Heeseung can feel himself melt even before he can protest.

He finally relents. “Okay,” he sighs.

Heeseung reaches out and takes your fingers in his, clutching at your smaller ones like a lifeline.

“Y/N…” he starts, contemplating his words, unconsciously pouting. “Can’t you bake only for me and not…share?”

You bite back a grin.

“See? It isn’t hard to tell me,” you squeeze his hand. “You can tell me anything, Heeseung. I will always listen.”

Heeseung gives you a pouty nod.

As for him, Heeseung thinks he was never happier than he is right now. 

There’s a strange satisfaction blooming in his chest every time he does something for you. 

Be it walking you home, or waiting at the lobby of your apartment to walk to the campus together. Or feeding you food and having a can of grape juice always ready for you. 

All the things he used to avoid—doing domestic things, having one person to devote all his attention and affection to—they become things that bring his heart at ease now.

And Heeseung loves being taller than you. He loves when you have to look up to talk to him, or the way you can easily hide your face in his chest when he says something corny. The way he can reach the higher shelf for you and become useful to you. He loves towering over you because every time he does it, he can’t help but notice the sweet spike in your scent.

You love it too.

Over time, the two of you get closer than ever. Every brush of hands, every bump of shoulders, every laughter shared—they only bring you back to him, and him to you. And slowly, like a prophecy finally meeting its destiny, the red thread finds its way back to you.

“Are you sure about this?”

You’re now standing in between his legs while Heeseung sits on the mattress of his bed, craning his neck to search your face.

Your fingers pause in his hair when you feel a faint pulse beneath his skin. 

A reminder that he’s still hurting from the one-sided bond. A reminder of the weight of fate tying the two of you.

Heeseung could’ve walked away like you did. He could’ve defied his wolf and cut the bond. But he did nothing of those.

He’s still here, still choosing you in every way you keep choosing him.

“I want this, Heeseung,” you whisper back, carding your fingers through his burgundy hair.  “I’ve never been so sure.”

One of the things that the both of you learn more about the relationship is the importance of the sacred bond. This time, you’re no longer running away or denying it—you and Heeseung take time to learn about its history, about the nature of the bond—and in your case, about how to fix the broken bond.

“It must come from your wolves,” you remember Jay’s mom saying. “And only then can you commemorate the bond and heal it for good.”

Commemorating, in this context, is to finally mate with your alpha. 

It’s a big leap in the relationship, especially since you’re every way inexperienced. Heeseung knows this; which is why he never rushed you and let himself take the hit of the broken bond.

To the Goddess, without the commemoration, the bond is still considered one-sided. It results in Heeseung still experiencing pain from time to time and, after another nosebleed pre-game and out of care for your alpha, you decide you’re done taking your own time.

Your omega holds the sentiment as you, not having the heart to let the alpha suffer for your own sake.

Noticing your silence, Heeseung grabs your wrist gently and brings it to his nose. He starts nosing at the tender skin, pumping out his calm pheromones as he bathes you in his scent.

“Have you been with anyone else before?”

You hesitate. Then, with a shy smile, you shake your head.

“No.”

Contrary to your expectation, Heeseung stills immediately. His face crumples slightly and his phereomones—previously calming and comforting—suddenly takes a sour turn.

You frown. “Heeseung?” You hold his face, heart clenching at his trembling lips. “What’s wrong?”

When he looks up to you, there are silent tears spilling down his cheeks. It alerts you almost immediately.

“Hee?”

“I—” Heeseung takes a deep breath, but his lips wobble, betraying his effort to remain calm.

“I touched people like it didn’t mean anything,” his voice breaks. Heeseung closes his eyes, like the mere looking into your eyes was too much for him to bear. “And now you’re standing here like this is something sacred and I—” 

When you understand what he means, you can feel your own heart breaking.

“Heeseung…”

“Why are you letting me handle something this—precious? I—I don’t deserve you, Y/N. I never did.”

“Please don’t say that,” you coo at him, wiping his tears with the pad of your thumb. 

“I chose you knowing everything you’ve done,” you whisper. “Not because you’re perfect, but because you’re trying.” 

Heeseung leans into your touch, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Like the warmth of your touch is the only thing that keeps him grounded. A comfortable silence falls upon you two, full of warm understanding and acceptance.

“Thank you,” Heeseung kisses your palm, long and gentle. “Thank you, Y/N. I mean it.”

A smile creeps up your face. You lean down to kiss his forehead.

“Come and sit here,” Heeseung pats his thighs. You pause for a moment, already getting shy from the proximity. But deep down, you can’t deny that you want this.

Slowly, you descend onto his lap, straddling his thighs. Heeseung pulls you closer by your hips, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. He lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Are you comfortable?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yeah,” then you pause. “I’m not heavy, am I? Are you comfortable?”

Heeseung hums. “Your weight is perfect for me, baby.”

The term of endearment makes warmth bloom across your cheeks. Heeseung gazes at you fondly, his nose already inching closer to where your scent smells the strongest.

He takes a lungful of your sweet scent—daisies and honey—and almost groans from the feeling of it. His favourite scent in the world. It’s been so long since he got to have you like this, so he keeps scenting you like he’s taking his fill.

“Your scent—you smell so good, Y/N.”

He lets his nose graze your scent gland. Once, twice, before brushing it with small, slow licks. You clutch at his shoulders, sparks bursting from the touch.

“Mhh!”

Heeseung trails up wet kisses up the column of your neck, dragging his tongue along your skin, savouring the soft gasps leaving your parted lips. His grip on your waist tightens, nails digging into your camisole while you try not to lose your mind over the foreign sensation.

Everywhere Heeseung touches with his lips is hot, sending strange, tingly feelings up your spine. It’s wet and it should make you recoil, but you find yourself loving it, already wanting more.

Heeseung stops when he reaches your lips, hot breath brushing against the soft pair. His eyes, now hooded and dark, are losing their round shape, like he, too, is already unraveling from just this.

“I’m gonna kiss you now, my daisy,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to your parted lips, open and so inviting. Something churns inside your stomach, always keening when being called his daisy.

Then you nod, granting him permission.

“Please kiss me, Heeseung.”

There’s a tiny quirk of a smile, before he finally closes the gap between your mouths. He’s careful, caressing the plump of your lips with his own, tentatively and slowly at first, before he captures your mouth in his. You close your eyes.

Heeseung kisses you like it’s sacred. He moves slowly, allowing you to follow his pace and getting used to the feeling of his mouth on yours. It’s gentle and sweet. It’s everything you have imagined sharing a kiss with a lover. 

His lips, soft and wider than yours, easily dominate the kiss with a flick of his tongue.

Your lips part in a gasp and Heeseung takes the chance to prod his tongue in, licking into every corner of your mouth like he’s been starved for you. You clasp a hand in his hair, losing your pace as Heeseung takes over.

With each passing second, the kiss turns into a needier one and you grow hotter. It’s messy now, with drool leaking down your chin and the noises you make getting louder. When you start to feel lightheaded, you tap his shoulders, lungs burning from the lack of breath. 

Heeseung lingers for a second, as if he never wants to let go, before detaching from your lips.

He looks absolutely wrecked. His lips are shiny with spit, panting into your mouth like he needs more.

“Need some air?” he whispers, voice hoarse, caressing your waist tenderly. You nod, catching your breath before you lean in and try to kiss him again.

This time, Heeseung lets you take the lead, grabbing your hips tight enough to ground himself. You mouth at the corner of his lips, peppering kisses across the pinkish skin before he loses his patience and starts kissing back, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

Pulling you flush against his own hips, Heeseung is desperate to feel you closer. The scent of his pheromones is taking a richer, darker tone, dripping with building arousal. He wants to stay like this forever—wants to memorise every taste, every curve of your lips, and carve it into his memory.

You’re unraveling just as fast. Driven by a deeper need to feel each other and more, you pool your arms around his neck and pull him closer, instinctively bucking your hips to soothe the ache between your legs.

Beneath you, Heeseung freezes. A strangled groan catches at the back of his throat, his fingers digging into your hips. His head is on cloud nine; he can’t believe you just did what you did, feeling his own lust slowly getting thicker.

Then, as if testing, you roll your hips again.

This time, the sound that leaves his throat is deep and ragged. Heeseung bites his lips, brows pinched together, his restraint visible through the veins popping in his neck.

“Y/N,” he rasps, voice strained. “Good? Comfortable?"

Your eyes, dazed and glossed over, look into his eyes and you nod. You move your hips again, chasing the delicious friction like a lifeline. “More.”

“Fuck,” Heeseung curses under his breath. 

Wordlessly, he snakes an arm around your waist and flips your position. Your back meets the mattress before you can process it, the impact punching a breath out of your lungs. Heeseung hovers over you, chest heaving rapidly, heated gaze raking over your body like he’s already dreamed of this many times.

“Heeseung,” you sigh, lifting your arms to his nape, already hating the distance. “Want you closer.”

Heeseung thinks he’s still in a dreamland, because there’s no way you’re lying down under him, hair splayed like a halo, asking him for more. Your lips, kiss-bruised and bitten-raw from the previous makeout session, are parted in a soft gasp, looking every bit like his wet dream.

No. This is better than any of his dreams.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out as if he’s in a daze, a willing hostage to your magical spell. “Fuck, I just—I just love you so much.”

The confession lands like a feather drifting through the air. Your breath catches in your throat, searching for Heeseung’s eyes and almost tearing up when you see only devotion and sincerity in his gaze.

“Heeseung…”

“My precious daisy,” Heeseung lowers down and gives a smooch to the back of your ear. Your breath hitches. “My sweet, sweet honey.”

Another wave of heat pools between your legs. His voice—oh Goddess, his sweet and sultry voice in your ears, accompanied by such adoration is almost too much. You whine, clutching his shirt in a desperate grip.

“What do you need, baby?” Heeseung breathes hard into your ears, his own voice almost cracking from restraint. “Tell me, hm?”

“Need you to touch me.”

He barely stops nibbling on the sensitive skin of your earlobe. “Where do you need me?”

You grab one of his wrists and bring it to where you need him most. The moment his fingers touch your soaked sweatpants, Heeseung lets out a deep, throaty groan. He pulls away slightly just to catch the expression you make—mouth agape, eyes closing shut—as he presses a finger on your cunt.

“Here? You like it here?”

“Y-Yes—” You purse your lips, pleading eyes peering into his dark gaze. “Please—More, please.”

Heeseung holds back a smirk. “You’re so good to me,” he purrs, his alpha swelling with pride and arousal. “I’m gonna give you everything you ask for, hm?”

Heeseung slips his hand into your panties and curses out loud at the wet sensation on his fingers. 

“Fuck, Y/N—you’re leaking.”

He props himself on one arm. His long, slender fingers stroke your folds, the wet sound of your arousal filling the room. You claw at his upper arms and arch your hips, letting out a broken breath.

“H-Heeseung!” 

A deep growl rumbles in his chest. Heeseung leans down and peppers kisses all over your cheeks as he flicks his thumb over your clit. The high-pitched, whiny moan that you let out makes his twitching cock kick and drool, already begging to be freed.

“Does that feel good?” he rasps, nudging at your hole with the tip of finger. The tight hole is almost sucking his finger in, eliciting a breathless moan out of your lungs.

You nod frantically, desperate to feel anything inside.

“‘Feels so good, alpha.”

“Mhm,” he purrs, circling your gaping hole lightly, teasingly. “I’m gonna put it in slow and nice for you and you’re gonna take it, ‘kay?”

You suck in your bottom lips, heat pooling low in your stomach at the deep timbre of his voice.

“Yes. Please give it to me.”

Heeseung almost melts at the big eyes you’re giving him. He gives you a soft peck and speaks against your mouth, “Tell me if it hurts, Y/N. I will stop immediately.”

When you give him the green light to go, Heeseung slowly pushes his middle finger in, fighting back a loud moan at the feeling of your walls sucking him in. He pauses for a moment, gauging for any discomfort in your face, and then starts pumping in and out gently when he sees only pleasure.

It feels strange and uncomfortable at first; having something inside you. But the subtle feeling of pain is slowly disappearing the longer he shoves his finger in. His thumb, eager to please you, keeps circling your swollen nub, adding to the building sensation in your stomach.

Before you know it, you’re already leaking out more slick. Your head thrashes to your left and right, breathy moans spilling out of your lips.

“Ngh—fuck—Hee—“

Heeseung forces himself to stay still; forces himself to breathe at the sight of you unraveling and so, so pliant under his touch, even when all he wants to do is ruin you. He inserts another finger, the additional stretch burns so good that you almost cry.

“Heeseung!”

The alpha lets out a heavy, ragged breath as his fingers skillfully scissor you open, willing your walls to loosen for him. His lips fall open as he watches you fist the mattress with a tight grip, eyes fluttering shut from pleasure.

Heeseung thinks he’s about to come just from watching your erotic expressions alone.

“Ah—ah—ngh!” You squirm and whine and writhe, throat scratchy from how long you’ve been keeping your mouth open. 

Heeseung’s eyes darken as he takes in the way the straps of your camisole fall down your shoulders. The soft swell of your chest moves up and down in a rapid breathing, nipples peeking out just enough to tease.

Fuck—you’re a sight to behold.

He can’t think straight, not when every sense is filled up with your thick, heady scent. Your slick, where it smells the strongest, is now pouring out of your gaping hole in waves and drenching his fingers down to his wrist, making the tent in his pants tighten painfully.

“I’m gonna add one more—fuck,” Heeseung almost chuckles in disbelief at the way your body sucks him in. “Your cunt is a little greedy, baby. Might just take all my fingers in.”

You’re already a mess of broken moans and high-pitched, ‘ah—ah—fuck’. The sensation is becoming too much. You have fingered yourself before, but they don’t have the girth of Heeseung’s long and slender ones; reaching deep inside where you can’t get before, or the roughness of the pad of his thumb circling on your clit relentlessly—bringing you closer to the edge faster than you can think.

Heeseung can already feel it. Your greedy little hole is catching at his fingers even tighter, signalling how close you are to cumming. He leans down, latching his mouth on your neck and littering it with bruising kisses that are going to leave marks, increasing the speed of his wrist until your hips lift off the mattress.

“H-Hee—! I’m—God, fuck—“

“Give it to me, my daisy,” he whispers, voice hoarse and rough from arousal, thumb flicking faster. “That’s it. Give everything to me.”

Heeseung watches closely as you close your eyes and mouth falls open as you come, the erotica of everything almost makes his neglected cock bust out. A feeling of intense ecstasy floods your system, crashing through your body, slick gushing out in waves upon delicious waves.

The alpha slows down the movements of his wrist, thumb circling lazily as he lets you ride out the high. He’s already dizzy from your pheromones, so sweet and inviting, that he almost pushes you into oversensitivity.

He plops out his fingers and puts it into his mouth, tongue lapping at the nectarine of your slick like a thirsty dog. His alpha hums in satisfaction at the sweet taste of his omega’s come, all drenched and warm just for him.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Heeseung hovers over your body again, now kissing you hard in pent-up hunger. “I wanna eat you out so badly but I just can’t wait anymore.”

You hum into the kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Heeseung parts for a moment, jagged breathing hitting your lips warm as he stares into your eyes. His gaze softens.

“Are you okay?”

You nod. “‘M’kay.”

Heeseung nuzzles his cheek against yours, hands sliding up and down your waist before slipping under your camisole and cups your breasts. You let out a half-shocked gasp.

“Can you take more, baby?” He murmurs against your ears, teetering on the edge of sanity as he listens to the sinful sounds leaving your mouth. “Can you take my big, fat knot this time?”

You can’t find your voice, too lost in pleasure as Heeseung kneads your breasts and plays with your nipples. Heeseung drags his tongue along your earlobe, desperate to hear you more.

“Look at these perky tits,” he says as he drags down your camisole, letting it bunch around your waist. His mouth gapes at the way the plump flesh spilling over his fingers, so soft and yielding. “Fuck—you’re so beautiful, Y/N, I will fucking cry.”

“Nnggh!” You cry out when he latches his mouth on your left nub. He sucks and grazes his teeth on your hardened nipple, never breaking eye contact, the wet sensation sending heat straight to your core. 

“Hee!” Your hand flies into his hair when he sucks particularly hard at the bottom swell of your breast, marking his territory. His rough fingers fondle your right tit, rolling the perky nub with reverent attention that makes you clamp your thighs shut.

You squirm, feeling another pool of slick gathering. “H-Heeseung—!”

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he lets go with a pop, lips shiny and slick with his own spit. “Please say my name like that again,” he requests, simultaneously rolling his hips to gauge your reaction.

As he expected—your body, so sensitive and pliant in his hold—immediately writhes from the friction. Heeseung watches with awe, nose twitching as another wave of your scent floods the room, mixing with the sultry accent of his cinnamon and seasalt almost too perfectly.

“Heeseung!”

Heeseung feels so dizzy. His thoughts are only filled with your name, your voice, and your pretty, pretty face that contorts in pleasure when he grinds more. His crotch area is already so fucking wet from pre-cum and your arousal that he thinks he’s losing a chance at any decent and coherent thoughts.

He gives you another roll, and when the name that leaves your swollen lips comes out broken and high-pitched, Heeseung decides that he can’t take it anymore.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, my daisy,” he rasps, leaving one last mark on your cleavage before sitting up. He helps you out of your clothes, marvelling in the way your body trusts him completely.

You’re all soft lines and gentle curves. Heeseung loses his breath as he traces his eyes from the soft mounds of your chest—littered red from his markings, to the narrow pinch of your waist, and the flare of your hips. He caresses the flesh with his hands, gripping it like a love handle as he revels in the contrast of his tanned, big hands on your soft, unblemished skin.

And your pussy—fuck, it’s still glistening from your previous climax and his ministrations, and is now getting wetter under his heated gaze alone.

But it’s the look in your eyes that completely undoes him—pure trust and devotion only for him that he so damn near cries.

“So beautiful,” he praises again, unable to stop the word from flowing out of his mouth. He slides down his hands down your thighs, groping the supple flesh, almost moaning from the sheer softness of it.

“Every inch of you is perfect, baby,” he husks, intoxicated by your pheromones invading his senses.

You hold your breath, peering up at the dominant alpha through your lashes. In a moment of such vulnerability, your chest is filled with affection and trust only for the man now handling your body with care, as if your body was made of porcelain.

My alpha, your wolf purrs inside, heart pounding into your chest.

You spread your thighs wider, so inviting and pliant.

“Alpha,” you mewl, nervously looking up at him. “Please.”

Heeseung can feel his dick twitching from the sight alone. With a swift movement, his shirt is already discarded, thrown somewhere on the floor.

“Say it clearly, baby. Tell me what you need.”

Heeseung fumbles with the strings of his sweatpants as his hooded gaze bores into your hazy one, hissing when his aching cock is finally springing free from the confines of his pants. 

You almost drool at the sight of his weeping cock, standing tall and proud against his abdomen. Its tip is angry red, leaking precum down the length of prominent, bulging veins. Your hole flutters with dripping need.

The words come out so easily now that your pussy is pulsing with an aching need to be filled.

“Please fuck me, Heeseung.”

Heeseung’s lips are bitten raw from restraint, his jaw tight as he forces himself not to move—not to give in to the urge to push forward and lose himself inside you. But before he can move to get a condom from the drawer, your hand snaps to his wrist, shaking your head no.

“Just—just do it,” you bite your lips trying not to squirm under his darkening gaze. “I want to feel you.”

It takes everything in him to stay still—to not reach for you, not pull you back, not ruin this by losing control. Heeseung looks for any doubt in your face.

“Are you sure, baby?”

“Mhm,” you tug at his wrist, guiding his hand to cup your pussy. Heeseung almost combusts right then and there.

“Quick, Heeseung. Need you here.”

“Oh my fucking God—” Heeseung curses under his breath, trying to remain calm. But his body betrays him, his muscles tensing, breath unsteady, as he forces himself to stay where he is.  

He sits taller, his thumb rubbing your clit teasingly. His other hand strokes his cock lazily, flicking his wrist around the erection and hisses when more precum drools out.

The whole time, he doesn’t let go of your eyes, taking in every micro-expressions you make like a greedy man. You’re so sensitive, so expressive, and so, so wet—always so eager to shower him with more slick and more of your sultry moaning.

He aligns his cock in between your folds, grinding the bulbous head against your swollen clit. A choked moan escapes both of you, too fucked over the pleasure. Another gush of slick trickles down your hole, intensifying your scent.

“Heeseung—”

“Shh, baby, I know,” Heeseung coos at the tears pooling along your lashline. He reaches out to wipe it, torn between guilt and absolutely fucking pleasure that he feels from seeing you break apart at his hand like this.

“I’m gonna be gentle, yeah?” He rasps, still rolling his hips, gathering your slick around the tip of his cock. 

He trails his fingers down your wrists before pinning them over your head, hovering over you completely like an eclipse. Then, after what felt like a lifetime, Heeseung finally pushes in.

He doesn’t move after that.

A broken breath leaves him, forehead dropping to your shoulder as if the effort of holding himself back is physically weighing on him. His grip on your wrists tightens just slightly, seeking something to ground him to the moment. Beneath him, you’re trembling from the mix of pain and pleasure, the latter outweighing the former.

“Y/N…” he exhales, voice rough, almost unsteady. “Look at me.”

There’s something in the way he says it. It’s not commanding or urgent, like  he really needs to see you or he’ll fall apart.

You turn your head, meeting his gaze, your expression soft but overwhelmed, lips parted as you try to steady your breathing. It stings, but not enough for you to pull away. Heeseung did a good job at preparing you.

He searches your face like it’s the only thing anchoring him.

“Am I—” he swallows, jaw tightening. “Am I hurting you?”

You shake your head, even though the feeling is new, intense, more than you expected. But the way he’s holding himself back, the way he’s watching you like this could fall apart at any second—it steadies you. Heeseung is so careful, so scared of hurting you that it almost makes you cry.

“It’s… okay,” you whisper, fingers twitching under his hold. “Don’t stop.”

His eyes squeeze shut for a second, like he’s bracing himself, like your trust is something he has to deserve in real time.

“Slow,” he mutters to himself more than to you. “Gotta go slow…”

He barely shifts, testing, careful, measured. Like every movement is something he has to think through instead of give in to. He sinks in another inch, mind floating from the tight sensation of your hole. A strained sound slips past his lips, low and wrecked, his control slipping just enough to show.

“God…” he breathes, almost shaking. “You feel—”

He cuts himself off, jaw clenching hard, like even finishing that sentence would push him too far.

Instead, his hand comes down to your waist, grounding himself there, thumb brushing absentmindedly against your skin like he needs something soft to hold onto.

You can feel it—how much he’s holding back. Not just physically, but everything. The way his body tenses with every tiny movement, the way his breathing keeps stuttering like he’s constantly pulling himself back from the edge as he pushes inside, inch by inch.

And something in your chest tightens.

“You can move,” you murmur softly, a little unsure, but still wanting. Wanting him, wanting every side of him and not just this careful version of him.

His head lifts immediately.

“No,” he says, almost too quickly. Then his voice grows softer. “Not if you’re not ready.”

Your brows knit slightly, a small shake of your head.

“I am,” you insist, voice quiet but certain. “I trust you.”

Your declaration hits deeper than anything else.

For a moment, he just looks at you—really looks—like he’s trying to understand how you can still say that to him. Then his grip tightens again; a firm grip that anchors you to the moment.

“Okay,” he breathes.

And this time, when he moves, it’s still slow—but there’s something underneath it now. Not just restraint, but a crack in it. A quiet, dangerous edge that slips through no matter how hard he tries to hold it back.

His forehead presses to yours, breaths tangling, uneven.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, softer now. “Anything—you tell me, yeah?”

You nod, already clutching onto him, already feeling yourself giving in to the rhythm he’s so carefully trying to control.

God, Heeseung tries not to lose himself completely. Chanting ‘Go slow, go fucking slow,’ like a mantra in his head is proving to be the hardest test he’s ever been through.

But he still tries—even when it starts slipping crack by crack.

You can feel it in the way his pace stays measured, like every pound into your walls is a calculated move. It makes your heart flutter, really, but you want more. 

You don’t know how to say it without sounding desperate, but your body knows you better. Instinctively, you clench around his cock. The action is not fully registered in your head until Heeseung’s rhythm falters.

“Y/N…” he exhales, your name catching in his throat like it’s too much for him to hold.

“More,” your fingers tighten around his arms, pulling him impossibly closer. “More, please.”

You tighten your walls again, drawing a shuddering gasp from him. His head drops forward as his control stutters, cock twitching inside you.

“Don’t,” he starts, half-warning and half-whining, “Don’t do that or I’m—”

You can’t stand it anymore. You meet his thrust, hitting his navel with yours, gasping because the sensation feels too good. A broken groan leaves him, deep and absolutely fucking wrecked.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, gripping your hips tighter. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Heeseung kisses up the length of your neck, leaving more marks before he props his arms. When you catch his eyes, something flickers in that heated gaze, like his control is finally slipping away, snapping with the way he pistons his cock into you. You choke out a breath.

“Okay?” he asks, still worrying. You nod frantically, desperately. 

“Yes—please—more—”

Heeseung does it again. Again and again and again until all there’s left is the sound of your broken gasps and the wet, filthy noise of his balls hitting your hole. 

“Still—fuck—still okay?” he asks, voice rough, barely held together.

You can’t form any coherent thoughts, so you nod again, breathless and more certain this time. “Please…don’t stop.”

Heeseung lets out a curse, lifting your hips slightly before continuing pounding into you, faster and harder. A high-pitched moan rips from your throat, the new angle hitting the spot that has you seeing stars.

He watches your face, his own contorting in pleasure, setting a pace that has you blabbering out broken words and more drool.

You feel so full. His cock is so deep inside you, filling you up to the hilt. It’s a strange feeling, but it’s also so, so addictive that you just want more, more, and more. It’s the only thing you can ask for: “More, more—Heeseung—ah—please.”

Heeseung leans down, taking your earlobe into his mouth, alternating his pace between achingly slow rolls of his hips and harsh, sharp thrusts, whispering hotly into your ears.

“You’re taking me so well.”

“So fucking tight, baby, fuck.”

“My daisy. My honey. My everything.”

The heat in your stomach intensifies, building up like a tidal wave waiting to crash. Your nails dig into his biceps, meeting his heated gaze with your glassy one.

“Mate with me, Heeseung. Please.”

Heeseung almost stops, but you’re fast to hook your legs around his waist, urging him to continue. He continues with slower grinding, locking eyes with you.

It’s finally time to seal the bond for good. But even in the haze of pleasure and nirvana, all Heeseung cares about is your well-being.

“Now, baby?” he whispers in between thrusts. He catches your jaw in his hand, thumb brushing your cheeks softly. He knows it’s bound to happen tonight anyway, but if he can save you from the pain longer, he will. “It will sting, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nod, never felt more sure than now. You lean up to kiss him, breath mingling hotly before you look into his eyes.

“I trust you, Heeseung,” you whisper back. You grind back into him, hips stuttering when his cock thrusts almost sharply into your cunt. 

With broken gasps, you finally say it. “Please mark me yours.”

Heeseung almost tears up from the sheer weight of your words. 

Trust. Yours. Mine.

Something that the old him would’ve never imagined wanting and needing.

But here, as your starry eyes gazing into his teary gaze, Heeseung’s never felt so full and complete. He doesn’t even know that he was capable of loving someone this much; of this overwhelming affection that he has only for you.

A single drop of tears slides down his cheek as he kisses you again, trying to convey his emotions into the sweet touch. You respond just as reverent, understanding him without words being spoken.

“Do you trust me?” he murmurs against your mouth. His hips are slowing down, getting lost in the warm sensation of your breath and your sweetening scent.

You give him a peck. “I do.”

Heeseung smiles fondly. He leaves one last kiss on your forehead before he sits up,  pulling out of you at the same time. You almost whine at the loss of touch, but he’s quick to reassure you.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

Then, with a dominating strength that makes your stomach flutter, he grabs your waist and flips you over. You arch your back almost instinctively, shoving your ass in the air. Heeseung groans, his alpha howling in pride at seeing his omega presenting like this. His jaw clenches from restraint, absolutely close to losing his mind over this sight of you.

His cock slips back in easily. Heeseung splays a hand over the skin between your shoulders, pushing you gently into the mattress.

You glance over your shoulders, wiggling your ass and pushing it further into his face. “Like this, Heeseungie?”

Heeseung bites his lips, mouth salivating from the sight. “Yeah, baby.” He is so fucking turned on. “I’m gonna move now, yeah?”

At the single movement of your head, Heeseung is already thrusting inside, barely holding himself back. The new angle gives more access to his cock to hit places you didn’t know exist in your walls, sending sparks of electricity to your nerves.

“Ah, ah—nnghh!! Heeseungie!” 

“Keep saying my name like that, baby,” Heeseung drools over the jiggles of your round ass. He kneads the flesh with his thick fingers, moaning at the dimples his nails make by digging into it.

“So soft. So beautiful,” he grinds and rolls his hips, leaning down to bite down on your buttcheeks. You clench around him. “So responsive for me. God—you’re perfect, Y/N.”

“I’m—I’m close—”

“Oh, I can feel it, baby,” Heeseung grunts through his teeth. Your walls keep sucking him back in, as if refusing to let go. “I’m close too—fuck.”

Heeseung picks up his pace, his muscles flexing as he, too, almost reaches his high. He leans down, broad chest meeting your back and noses at your pulsing scent gland, sweat dripping down his chin.

It’s intoxicating, the way your scent blends in with his pheromones, like a perfect match made in heaven—which might not be so far from the truth. He is your true mate, after all, written in the prophecy for God knows how long.

He can feel how close you’re getting, your whining turning needier and messier. His canines sharpen slowly, readying himself to mark you.

You drool into the mattress, incoherent words leaving your mouth. The coil in your stomach tightens, so close to snapping, so close to bringing you over the edge.

And it’s with a flick of his thumb over your clit that you finally give. You go still, shockwaves of your release rippling through your body, pulling Heeseung with you as he cums, spraying your insides white.

Following his promise, Heeseung chooses that exact moment to sink his teeth in your nape, right over where your scent gland is. You yelp, body trembling from the intense feeling of pain and pleasure.

The feeling is otherworldly—like something inside you finally clicks into place.

A warmth blooms from where he’s marked you, spreading through your body in slow, overwhelming waves. It’s not just the sensation—it’s him. You can feel him in a way you’ve never felt before, like his presence has settled beneath your skin, threading into every part of you. 

Your fingers clutch at the sheets, breath stuttering as something inside you tightens and softens. You feel complete, like the quiet ache you never noticed has finally disappeared.

Heeseung groans softly against your skin, almost like he feels it too—like the bond snaps into place just as strongly on his end. His hold on you tightens, not possessive, but grounding, as if he needs to make sure you’re real, that this is real.

He quickly laps at the blood and the wound, tongue gentle now, almost reverent as he soothes the mark he’s just made. His hips slow down, now grinding into you lazily to ride out the wave before you mewl from oversensitivity.

He pulls out after a while and gently turns you back to face him. As soon as he locks eyes with you, Heeseung’s composure breaks instantly, tears spilling down his cheeks. He catches your lips in a wet kiss.

“My daisy,” he cries, cradling your jaw and never intending to let go. “Oh Goddess—I love you so much.”

His voice, broken and gasping with gratitude and relief, moves your heart in ways that unravel you just the same. You kiss back just as hard, heart finally full and complete.

Your omega purrs in satisfaction, and to your surprise, you can almost hear another wolf echoing back to yours. 

It doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s Heeseung’s wolf—your alpha, finally and wholly yours.

Heeseung breaks the kiss only to rest his forehead against yours. Your scent gland pulses, but this time, it’s gentle and grounding, like a mark of a new beginning; a bond now finally healed and sealed.

“Y/N,” he breathes out against your mouth. “Don’t get tired of me yet, okay? I… I cherish you so much. ‘I love you’ doesn’t feel like enough.” 

You let out a soft giggle and pull him closer, sealing your lips with his again.

“Then don’t say anything. Show me, my alpha…show me that we belong to each other.”

As moonlight spills into the bedroom, a blessing from the Goddess for the mated pair, the sheets bear witness to the moment two fractured souls finally become one.

You wake up before Heeseung.

Trying to remove his arms from your waist proves to be a real challenge; the alpha refuses to let you go even in his sleep. You chuckle softly and plant a kiss on his forehead before slipping out of the blanket.

Standing on slightly wobbly legs, you drift into the kitchen, your throat screaming for water. You let the sunshine hit your skin, highlighting your afterglow, as you down a whole glass of water.

The house is quiet. Jay, with the intention to give the two of you privacy, has gone to visit his parents for the weekend. You silently thank him for it. You don’t want to know how awkward it’d be if he has to hear all the noises you made last night.

Just as you’re about to return to Heeseung’s warm embrace, your eyes catch a sign on another door. It’s located at the end of the hallway, a few paces away from Heeseung’s and Jay’s bedrooms. It’s almost unnoticeable, but the name on the sign is what intrigues you to go closer.

EVAN LEE

Evan? That’s Heeseung’s English name.

You know it’s an invasion of privacy, but your wolf is nagging at you to go. So, with almost zero reluctancy, you let yourself inside.

It’s his producer room, you guess, judging from the equipment filling up the space. You let your eyes roam, smiling to yourself when you catch random things that just scream Heeseung.

There are two frames of pictures hanging on the wall, one of his family and another one of him and Jay. The two looked younger, more reckless, a given when you notice the uniform they were wearing. High-school Jay with a neat shirt, tucked in and collar buttoned up while high-school Heeseung was missing his tie. They were smiling bright, already so handsome from such a young age.

You look at the random stickers on his PC—basketball, white cats, and alphabet stickers that are arranged into ‘NI-KI’. 

A pair of headphones sit on the table, each ear decorated with different aesthetics. The left one is full of flowers, tiny stickers of ‘ddeonu’ are left as watermark, while the other is just one big orange cat sticker, and instead of leaving his name in a way that doesn’t stain, Jungwon actually signed with a marker pen.

You laugh, wondering what might be Heeseung’s reaction when that menace did that. It’s Sony, after all, and judging from the sleek design—it’s definitely pricey. But knowing how soft Heeseung is for Jungwon, he probably just let it slide because ‘Jungwonnie is cute’.

This room is so full of everything Heeseung loves. His passion for music and basketball, his affection for his close friends. A thought, not unkindly or bitter, crosses your mind: you cannot wait to leave traces of you here, too—something of yours, beside everything he already loves. 

Just as you’re about to leave, something in the corner stops you in your tracks. It’s a notebook, hidden under a keyboard, like it’s never meant to be found.

You walk over and look at the notebook, breath catching in your throat when you read the cover.

For my daisy.

Is this for you?

With trembling fingers—a result from your pounding heart—you flip the cover. There’s handwriting, unmistakably Heeseung’s, filling up the first page.

These are my silent apologies to the girl I lost. I was too late to love you when you still loved me, but I promise myself that I will start and continue loving you, even when I can no longer hear your echo until the very end.

P.s. park jongseong stop making fun of me this will become a hit album TRUST!

Just like what the note has said, the notebook is full of song lyrics. Each line, each intended melody, each scribble left in the margin—every one of them is meant for you, intended for you, and just for you.

Your vision blurs, heart tightening so painfully it almost aches—because this wasn’t just regret. It was love. Quiet, enduring, and yours all along. 

Heeseung didn’t know how to stay or to cherish—but he’s been unlearning every single bad habit for you. Through your resentment, through your tears, through your silences, until finally, your omega was willing to open up and give him another chance at love.

Your chest swells with affection and pride, echoing with only the name of the alpha.

You reach for a pen and flip back to the first page, leaving your first ever trace in his producer room.

p.s. i love you more, my cinnamon alpha. 

andddd that's the end of it!!1 thank you once again and until next time <3

dividers from: @cursed-carmine <3

permanent taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll @in-somnias-world @rikismists @loviseamms @ikeupop

fic taglist 1: @bingka @twocupsofsuga @rayofsunshineeee @all4moi @cutehoons02 @barbiecuedotcom @kitteaasstuff @sosocide @lhspeachie @sooooobean @vmpiricou @st4rg1rlies @itsmesofia @dazedinadream @yenienha @fullsunncity @kookieterry @isa942572 @jikookvfans @corroprisz @taesnumber1 @goosemantheweeb @wndrlndhee @jakey1115 @d0llddeonu @zijoan @mheretoreadff @ezekiel-bublz @pomeranyan @mono-for-real

[theothernads]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ. SECRETS . [Y.JW]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

○ SYNOPSIS: After making it to university, you found yourself finding comfort in a cat café worker not too far from your lectures. The cute worker seemed to have a knack for making you fall for his charm. And, how could you not? Your chemistry was perfect- but you never thought that he had secrets and that Jungwon was your secret as well. As much as you two tried to keep everything behind the scenes, things don't always work out the way they should.

○ PAIRING: Boxer!Jungwon×fem!rich!reader

○ WARNINGS: fighting, so suggestive it's acc crazy, blood, classism? Self-doubt, profanity, I made one of the members a villain, cute, fluff, ANGST (Imao), boxer Jungwon (deserves a warning bc it's iconic af)

○ NOTES: Okay. I did it. Please enjoy. This took forever to edit, but hopefully, you all like it!! It's been in my drafts for too long. Ever since No Doubt came out, lmao😭. Thank you for everyone who asked to be on the taglist!! Please give feedback. I would love to hear it!! Okay, muah!

╰┈➤ LIKES, COMMENTS+ REBLOGS are appreciated!

○ WC: 21k+

○ ִֶָ࣪☾. [DREAM LIBRARY]

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AS A DAUGHTER OF A CEO AND A NURSE, YOUR PARENTS OFTEN PILED THEIR LANDSLIDE OF PRESSURES ONTO YOU. With you as the only child in their lavish home, their attention and lectures often find you daily, ready to exhaust your mind into another brainless talk.

But, it wasn't only your parents. It was also your lonely thoughts swarming your inner monologue like a bunch of pests.

Your parents, on the other hand, had you wrapped in their protective blanket, to the point where you were suffocating, not knowing when you could catch fresh air that wasn't supplied by them.

It wasn't easy per se. The studies that entailed your life had beaten you over the head and forced your eyes down to the textbooks and past papers. Those almost became your friends if you didn't scowl at them as much as you did.

Your parents were great, even if they flooded your head with reminders and words that you needed to become someone, anyone.

Anyone with money, of course.

That was the pinned priority. It was almost the only thing you wanted at the end of the destination. The end of the route was hopefully going to university for something in the medical field.

The light on your mother and father's face was the only thing keeping your vision on the set road before you. It was... exhausting. However, you worked through days, sleepless nights, calloused thumbs, and a lost appetite to get you a step closer to your supposed dream.

Getting accepted into that university wasn't as thrilling as you thought: the smile on your parent's faces, their boasts to your family didn't lift the anchor that had rusted in the pits of the ocean that was your mind.

It often felt as if you were drifting away from reality when classes started.

One particular day, you bunked the class by saying you needed the bathroom, when in reality, you sauntered right out the glass doors and onto the street.

Breathing the air without too many of your own classmates stitched your composure together again, and you found yourself wandering down the busy roads

You stopped when observing the mocha and brown lettered words on a cream sign. A cat café. Your feet moved on their own, pushing the door and placing your shoes in a slot on a black shelf.

The staff directed you to the room, and as you entered the main area, you spotted all types of feline friends lounging and sauntering around.

Swiftly moving in, you sat in a random spot, admiring the cats of all colours, the short and long furs—they were truly a melody, a soothing balm to your heated head.

And new potential friends that you could confide in and expect them to listen without a word of resistance. Oh, to live as a cat — carefree, jump as high as you want, and you could run away without consequences.

Oh, the dream.

A certain brown and black cat with a fluffy coat around its face approached you in your daydream, meowing quietly. The cream collar was engraved with "Belle." She was adorable, to say the least.

Her friendliness knew no bounds as she nudged her head into your hovering palm, rubbing her furry face.

For the first time in a while, you smiled, and one could argue that it sounded as if you were in the pits of depression—but you weren't. You were simply deprived of the quiet moments like this.

If you stayed a minute more in that damn lecture hall, you would have stabbed a pencil into their oh so precious desk.

Tentatively letting your fingers scratch beneath her chin, you heard another purr, her green eyes blinking slowly as she shifted her head to seek your comfort.

Her fluffy coat made you want to genuinely bite her—not hard, but maybe kiss her to bits until her paw warned you of her rising annoyance.

"Belle!? Where are you, girl..?" A voice called out that snapped your personal dream bubble.

When you glanced at the source of the voice, there was a young man with honey, golden skin, hickory eyes, and blonde locks resembling a cloud.

His wavy hair and feline eyes made your heart hitch a little. As if his presence hit you like a stone that your body didn't brace for. You weren't prepared.

Said man came over after realising that Belle was spending her careless time with you. Oh. He was coming over, and you're staring like a hawk. An idiot was a more fitting name.

Straightening your back, you glanced back at Belle and let your fingers fall away. The cat obviously protested, meowing—or whining—as her little face pecked at the hand on your lap.

The man slowed as he saw you, his fist holding something, but he was careful as he crouched before the feline. Right there, you noticed his veiny forearms, and you had to look away.

"She never comes out," he began saying, hand expertly rubbing behind her ear. A smile lifted your lips once more.

"I feel special," you said with a speck for amusement. He chuckled and nodded.

"I think you may be. She tends to hide in the dumbest corners. Kind of annoying," mumbled the man. His fists unfurled, and Belle's head perked to see the treats in his hand.

A long meow slipped into the air, her eager self padding to the worker (you assumed), and instantly munching. You could just combust.

For the cat, of course.

A smile graced those lovely, rosy lips of his, the other hand stroking Belle on her head encouragingly. In that moment, this man looked soft and warm. As if you were sitting near a furnace after a long, hard winter day. Something to melt the thick, icy anxiety wedged in your chest.

"She's adorable," you murmured, her tail snaking past your lap, wanting attention in all directions, it seemed. The man nodded and lifted his gaze finally.

They scanned your own, calculating but not intense at all. Then, he spoke. "I'm Jungwon, by the way."

A nice name that suited his perfect face, perfect dimples, and perfect voice.

Damn, what were you thinking? Internally scolding yourself, you nodded in acknowledgement with a small smile.

"I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you," you mumbled softly. The sparkle in his gaze shot by in the darkness of his eyes. Another smile.

"Pretty."

From that alone, you were ready to just bash your head into the wall to deal with the flusterment floating in your face. He said it so casually, delivering it with that deep voice of his that scratched your brain right.

Blinking profusely, your gaze averted to Belle, knowing your neck was burning, and the flames of shyness were reaching the apple of your cheeks as well.

"Thanks." You stroked Belle on her back as she munched contentedly on Jungwon's palm. He noticed your glittering eyes and the lashes fluttering on your cheeks.

Jungwon sat beside you, cross-legged and holding out his hand. "Do you wanna feed her..?"

Without a single thought from your frazzled brain, you nodded. Jungwon was pleased, an easy smile breaking out as he gently took your own left hand.

Even the warmth in his hand ignited all kinds of tingles in your fingers, making the heat constrict and hug your heart.

From his apron pocket, he picked out a few brown treats into your own palm, and Belle was instantly impressed.

Her furry face dug into your hands, licking up the treats, and you felt as if her silent sounds healed and patched up the stitches of exertion from the past couple of days. Who knew just a feline friend could soothe the craks in you?

"So, you work here..?" You asked the obvious question. Jungwon chuckled slightly, eyes fixed on your hand.

"Yup. Shifts are easy, and I get to talk to the cats instead of myself."

"You probably talk to yourself at home," you teased back.

"That's why I needed to work here. To hide it." Jungwon grinned, lifting those beautiful eyes of his. "But alas, my secret is revealed."

He was funny. Cute. You liked the way he easily loosened the stiff bolts in your muscles, as if it didn't take much effort.

You smiled, petting Belle behind her fluffy eyes, feeling somewhat content in the brief silence. Jungwon eyed the backpack slumped by your side and glanced back.

"So, you running away from home, or do you just have a lot of things in there?" He asked with mirth, eyes darting to the crumpled bag. Oh. That. A reminder of how you left class unattended and on impulse.

"Oh... that," you said with a forced chuckle, eyes focused on Belle rather than the beauty before you. "I bunked class."

"You're a student? Damn, you're devious," Jungwon remarked with a jab of amusement. You rolled your eyes and smirked.

"Very. It's the most I've gone against my parents," you said without thinking.

You instantly regretted it. You didn't plan to blurt that out and reveal the speck of the harsh expectations crushing you and all to a stranger. You clenched your eyes shut for a moment before opening them.

"So, rebellion?"

"That's a bit much," you mumbled with a slightly offended pout. Jungwon stroked Belle, fingers accidentally brushing yours, and your hand retracted sharply.

The tingle crazing up your arm was warm, uninvited, but made your heart pound just a little faster. He began to laugh at your comment.

"I guess so. You want to tell me why you're starting your rebellion?" He urged you on, meeting eyes again.

"It's not a rebellion!" You protested, and Belle's little face peered up at you, as if she was judging you for purposely making a wall of lies and denial. Jungwon and Belle waited, expectant.

Sighing, you began to unravel your life story as if it was a ball of yarn running away from you before you could catch it. All the way from high school to exams that opened up the gates to university until now to how dead you felt in class, taking a course for the sole reason of pleasing your parents.

It's not like your chosen health care course wasn't an enjoyable path—you chose that route because, yes—you did find something valuable in stem subjects, and found it bearable to endure the hurdles that came with it.

However, sitting in the lecture hall and typing, writing mindlessly on your convertible tablet, the energy had diminished like a candle nearing the end of its wax.

Jungwon listened, stroking Belle's back as she settled on his lap. No words slipped into the conversation, letting you pour your heart out to him, a total stranger.

When you finished, he let out a deep puff of air, as if he was exhausted for everything you said. "Damn..."

Tucking your side fringe behind your ears, an empty chuckle came out. "Yeah. I love them and all, but it's... exhausting. But, my mind won't let me disagree with them. After all, they just want me to live well."

He shook his head, and Belle jumped off his lap and scurried away, deciding to leave you and him in solidarity.

"What about you being happy? Peaceful?" He asked, stretching his legs out forward, leaning back on his hands. "What's the point of living well on the outside when... you need to also live well internally? If that makes sense."

The words carved into you like a harsh reminder—your own guts telling you to say something. But your loyalty was your biggest enemy, and it had the best leverage.

You weren't smiling anymore, nor speaking, and Jungwon sighed, dropping his own eyes to his lap, as if there was already something brewing behind his eyes.

A beat of silence passed, and Jungwon looked up. "I ran away."

Your eyes shot to him, bewildered. The reaction made him chuckle, but there was memory frozen in his eyes.

"Yeah... you're better than me. If they forced me into taking university, I would've crashed out. I mean, I already did." Jungwon shrugged.

Waiting in silence, you let him go on.

"It's started when I was younger. My father was an alcoholic, a smoker, the whole lot. My mother was ill. So, she was even more irritable. With both of them on my back, going out was an escape." Jungwon rushed a hand through his blonde locks, eyebrows furrowed as if it hurt to clutch the dead roots he had left behind in memory.

"I bunked classes. I didn't care, I just needed to be doing something on my own. I had my friends, we messed about, I will admit. But, nothing bad. Just me, my friends being loud and... smoking here and there. But, I knew my luck would run out."

By now, a white cat padded over, collar jingling softly and climbed into your lap. Smiling, you found something light-hearted in the midst of this talk.

"My dad got the phone call from school. Those assholes called them, and he nearly pushed me into... into the stove. He was yelling, angry, called me useless," Jungwon said as he swallowed down the harsh marks of the past. "But, I wanted it out. Finished school. Grades were mid, but I didn't care."

He let out the nth sigh, gazing at the random wall as if he was rewatching the memory.

"One day, he blew up on me. He was drunk. My mother was okay, but she was also hoping for good grades. Too much expectations, too much demands." Jungwon's gaze narrowed. "I wasn't enough. I didn't impress them. And nothing could."

Jungwon grit his teeth, remembering the moment he had stormed through the house, pulled out a black duffel and backpack, and stuffed every corner of them until it couldn't anymore. It was painful and impulsive.

"I ran. I left with my friend and found my own way. And now, I work here. For about 2 years now." He finished, nodding and letting the weight of his shoulders lift.

You couldn't imagine running with your friend, being along and unstable. You loathed it, but it didn't mean that he didn't hold bravery for making that decision. Letting out a puff of air, you turned to Jungwon.

"I'm glad you're okay now. I honestly can't imagine it. It must have been terrifying," you said softly, sympathetic. Jungwon sensed your tone and dismissed it with a shake of his hand.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Because I'm fine now. I'm stable, I don't need those assholes anyway," he said with a newfound strength. Or perhaps, a strength that had bloomed ever since he left the claws of his home.

"Like I told you, the cats keep me company," he said, letting the white feline jump out his lap and join the rest of his friends. You smiled, finding the café an easy path to soothe the weight on your soul.

As if you needed this.

Jungwon, admiring your adorable face, grinned to himself, not missing the way his heart fluttered, as if something was newly born there. It was enticing all the same.

From then, you visited the cats, or Jungwon, often. You skipped classes sometimes or came afterwards with some friends to catch the eye of the cute worker, letting your small desires be fulfilled every time you and him exchanged a discreet look.

Most of the time, you came alone in hopes of letting the pieces of your heart be bared to him, to let him examine whatever you put out there.

You think it worked. For example, in this one situation, you were trying to lure the cats to your hand full of treats, but no matter how much you cooed at them, they blinked at you as if you were an idiot. You stood once more, and Jungwon, noticing it, appeared behind you in an instant.

The emanating warmth forced your heart to run laps, skip beats, and leap in the tight confines of your chest. He was so close—chest hovered by your shoulders, his breath subtly hitting your right ear. A shudder rippled down your spine.

"The cats can't reach your hand if you're standing normally," he said softly by your ear.

You glanced only to stare at the stars that were his hickory eyes and the roses that were his pink lips.

Jungwon had to be the personification of beauty himself—the type of beauty that couldnt be captured by a normal lens because it simply wouldn't do him an justice. Experiencing just his presence without any second thoughts was as if you were face-to-face with the galaxy itself.

Realising you were staring, you let him lower you to the ground until you sat on your knees, and he crouched behind you. His warm hand held your wrist, angling it, making the tingles bite up your nerves until you felt your heart sprint.

Then, he clicked his tongue, and like the cat whisperer he was, the feline friends all came jumping and padding over with curious tails and mouths. You let yourself stroke a few of the fluffy heads, aware he never moved away.

"Thank you..." you said softly. Jungwon chuckled, and he boldly rested his chin on your shoulder. It was so soft that you nearly missed the pressure of it, but you didn't.

The stupid smile tugged at your lips, his hand retracting from your wrist to rest gently, experimentally on your waist. When you didn't pull away, he sighed into your neck, letting his silence fill in the rest.

It was a song of no words, but you loved every second that passed where he filled the gap in your neck, memorising your skin. The moment elicited a blossom of new flowers—bold, vibrant, and exciting. You wouldn't mind if Jungwon brought out more of those from within you. The flowers crawled up your chest, caged your heart into something strong and something immovable.

Only when a customer alerted the bell did he pull away with one last squeeze to your waist, imprinting the print of his warm invitation. Your gasp was soft, barely audible, but his cheeky self just upped and went away.

One thing about Jungwon was that mischief was an ingrained and crucial part of him. Whether it br through his teasing words or his sly hands brushing past you like the wind.

And, another part of him you had also discovered was the speck of secrecy he kept in the cracks.

It had been a gloomy November morning, the city alive and moving as you strolled towards the familiar cat café. Classes had been exhausting, and you craved to ease the storm irking the ocean that was your mind.

Each part of your head was waterlogged, filled with destructive waves that washed and swept over every other thought that threatened to keep afloat.

Whenever that happened, you went to the cat café, climbing up the familiar brown steps, dinging the bell as you opened the door, and slipping on the comfortable slippers before sauntering to the main room.

The familiar warm light illuminated the cream and pastel pink walls and the various cats padding or lounging around on different surfaces.

Your presence managed to alert the particularly shy cat that never revealed herself. Or, your best friend.

"Hi, Belle," you cooed, crouching down and stroking her furry head. She meowed and licked the tip of her nose swiftly, as if curious about your visit. You laughed softly and scooped her into your arms, and she made home within your embrace.

Her furry self was a remedy for the strenuous school day.

Naturally, you were here for one other person, though—Jungwon. As if detecting your dilemma, Belle jumped out your arms and padded deeper into the café, leading you to the counter where Jungwon's back was turned to you.

The sight of his broad back, the muscles peeking out from his shirt, even under the brown apron he wore. His blonde locks were messy, tousled as a cloud.

"Hey, Won," you said, approaching the counter with an easy grin. Jungwon flinched slightly, putting the air pod out, and he turned only to reveal an undeniable display.

Brows furrowed, you rushed to the counter to examine the red scar stitched into his cheekbone, the redness blooming around it like a field of pain.

"Jungwon, your cheek..?" You said, pointing to the obvious wound, worry budding in your eyes. Realisation flickered over his face, hesitantly letting his fingers caress over the spot before he sighed.

"Yn, it's nothing. Just a small accident," he said, giving a dismissive smile. You didn't believe him. The scar seemed shallow, almost as if he had bumped into something with an aggravating force.

"What accident?"

"You know, the cats. Shadow was kinda hard to get back in his bed," he easily replied, leaning on the counter before you on his elbows, smirking as if he knew something you didn't.

You stared for a good few seconds before your hand lifted to his wounded cheek, and he let you. Heck, he leaned into your hand, the warmth rushing through your nerves; the worry still stood strong.

"What brings you here so late today?" Jungwon mumbled, his breath hitting your wrist. A tingle weaved through your blood and embedded itself into your skin as if to connect you and him.

Sighing, you brought yourself to move away from the topic of his cheek, eyes downcast. Jungwon clutched your palm, bringing his rosy lips to the pulse of your wrist. Your breath hitched.

"I... It's just one of those days. And I thought my worries would go if I saw you, but it seems I have another to think about," you explained.

Jungwon hummed into your wrist, again waving off your concern as if a speck of dust that was tickling his nose.

"Will you let it go?" He asked in slight mirth. You shook your head, and he chuckled. "It was Shadow the cat. A scratch. You know how he is."

"I don't." You blankly stared at him as he kept your wrist to his lips. Relenting from the position, he came around the counter, towering over your form, leaning on the counter.

"Believe me. Yeah?" His voice was honey as he asked that, cocking his head to reach your gaze. You hate how it worked because you gazed up at him with those adorable eyes of yours, and he tapped your chin.

"Help me close up. Maybe you can help Shadow calm down," he said, chuckling at the way your pout appeared and nudged his heart.

"Great. Maybe we can get matching scars," you said sardonically, pushing off the counter and heading to lock the door.

Jungwon scoffed, still facing where you had stood, finding your attitude infuriating, but enticing all at the same time. You were some kind of sweet drug, and he wanted it to invade his senses.

With the cats all in their designated spaces with the other staff, Jungwon was with you at the front, but he was cleaning the dishes. A few cups and straws.

You sat on the counter, watching his honey tan skin, the way his sleeves were rolled up and revealed the veins running down his arm and bedazzled his wrist. The undeniable warmth stirred in your cheeks, finding it ridiculous how you were inept at keeping your composure together.

Where Jungwon washed away, he smirked slightly as he spotted your sparkling gaze on him. You weren't very discreet. Not when your head stayed in the same place before darting away every few seconds.

The tap turned off. Jungwon dried his hands before stalking to you ever so slowly and stood before you with his shadow looming over you.

When your eyes met his, he swore his heart skipped a beat, skipped the hesitation; his hands pushed your knees apart, and you squeaked as he pushed himself right closer to you, hands slithering around your waist.

The warmth rained on your cheeks, and your eyes widened from the proximity. "J-Jungwon—"

"Shh..." He murmured, hands pressing your lower back and forcing your body too close. Tentative hands gripping his shoulders, the hitch in your breath betraying how your composure crumbled and allowed him to peek into what you truly wanted.

"Can I kiss you..?" He whispered when he leaned in, face inches away from yours. From here, the scar was clearer; it was dull, yes, but his whole cheek bone was tainted with red, as if Shadow the cat punched him with those petite paws as well.

There was no time to even think of the scar when he got too close, eyes darting back to his hickory ones. The stare held until you finally nodded to his question.

"Thank fuck," he mumbled before his lips swooped in and captured yours. Soft. Really damn soft.

Your breath hitched once more out of the many, his lips firmly moving against yours like a strong gale against a flower bed. It rendered you breathless, but when you pulled away, you gripped his biceps tighter and dived in for another.

Startled, Jungwon tightened his embrace around your waist, feeling the curve of your body press into his, your lips now littering and staining admiration onto him

When you sighed again, he departed for some air, breaths slightly shaky. Your lips were slightly swollen, eyes glistening with something new and exciting that made his hunger crave more of whatever you were enchanting him with.

He saw the exact way you silently asked for more, those pretty eyes of yours fluttering at him, beckoning him closer. He was under your spell because why did he lean in for another?

Your hands tightened on his shoulders now, lips a feather away from each other, eager for another long reunion—

"You two are fucking disgusting." Jay had his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at Jungwon instantly distancing his lips.

A storm of heat wrecked your body and cheeks, and now you wish you would crawl into the dirt and bury yourself there. You gave a small wave to Jay, who gave you a nod of acknowledgement mixed with the repulse.

A slight chuckle escaped Jungwon, hands still locked around your waist. "You could have just walked back into the other room."

"And leave you two unsupervised? On the counter? As if I hadn't seen this before?" He inquired, each question heightening your embarrassment. But Jungwon didn't even mind it, smirking impishly at Jay.

"What movies have you watched?"

"Shut up."

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The marks persisted. Some days, it would be mostly on his face, and then other days, the scars would bloom on his jaw, shoulder, and at one point, you saw him wince, clutch his side when he bent down to grab the cat bowl.

It was painfully clear he was concealing something beneath the surface, and he wanted to keep you out.

But fine. If he didn't want to tell you, why would you force him? Logically, it wouldn't be serious if he never told you otherwise. So, you dropped the idea of the suspicious little wounds at random spots and let it go.

Until today.

Another day, another decision to bunk the later class. It was two hours long, meaning two hours of absolutely useless droning from that professor you despise.

Walking down the streets in the gloomy weather, you puffed some air into your fingers, scolding yourself for not doing the smart thing of bringing your gloves.

November was hit with a silent storm of cold, the freezing air everywhere at once, giving no one respite from its breath.

Which is why you want to go buy gloves right now. The shop you love was down the street after the corner of these other meticulous ones. The idea of buying yourself something was so greedy but gratifying; you know you probably have gloves packed safely in your home, abandoned, but here you were, shopping for a pair more to join the collection.

When you turned the corner, a familiar blonde sparked in your peripheral vision. Now, there weren't a lot of blondes in Korea, but this was... certainly a coincidence, right?

Your supposed situationship was not going down some dodgy and dark alley with Jay? They strolled with ease as if this path was the most familiar route they had walked upon.

The buildings on this side looked... reserved, residential, even. This was no place that Jungwon could know because he never talked about anything else. Or, he never wanted to tell you of anything else he was doing. The mere thought made a crack of doubt in your stomach, the crevice thin, but undeniably there.

Do you follow?

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. So, as a cat would, even though you were far from it, you crossed the road and sauntered swiftly into the same narrow path.

You had no idea where you were going and decided to follow this random dude, careful not to alert anyone. They all worse dark clothes, and here you were, wearing a cream coat. You were just asking to be looked at.

Whatever. The alley was dark for the most part except the tiny streams of light illuminating the black door at the utter end.

The dude opened it languidly, disappearing. Like the spy you were, you opened it swiftly and snaked yourself into another dim hallway.

"I better not break my ankle," you mumbled to yourself, using your palms to direct yourself down the only path that was also deprived of light. More doubt cracked whatever contentment you had with Jungwon the more you crept down the dark hallway.

What business did he have here? It wasn't normal to casually stroll up to a place like this and act as if he was entering the park or something. Too many questions relentlessly hit your head as you lowered yourself down some stairs when you heard it.

A crowd. Not even the demure mumbling—it was loud. Strident, and you could hear jeering, cheers. The dude opened another door, light spilling in instantly. Not wanting the darkness clinging to you, you rushed through the cheers louder now, but the room you were in was empty except the multiple, absent boxing rings.

Boxing. Jungwon. What?

In a way, you could see the connection of events: the sudden scars that popped on his skin like daisies on a normal summer day. But even then, your thirst of curiosity wasn't quenched, and, as much as you wanted to explore this empty hall, you strode silently behind the dude.

The door he next opened was through another hallway, but at least there was a single bulb to provide the weak excuse of light. It was grey, plain, and had no indication of what stood behind it, but the closer you ventured, the more those cheers became prominent.

The dude seamlessly opened it and entered like the wind. Puffing out some air yourself, you approached it and buried the anxiety of what you would find. Maybe Jungwon. Or maybe something terrible.

What you didn't expect was a dim, shady part of the building with a boxing ring in the middle, a crowd swarming it with their cheers and conversations, and bang in the middle was Jungwon.

Shock froze your body, all your nerves as you stood away from the crowd, afraid of exposing yourself.

He was sweaty, to say the least; he donned a white shirt, blue pants with thick, white boxing gloves, and his golden hair stuck to his forehead. His feline eyes were sharp, focused on the opposing player, who just about entered the ring.

The referee, you assumed, stayed in the middle, holding this microphone, grinning widely.

"Welcome to the next round! Remember to put the money on the person that would most likely win!" He explained to the crowd.

Bets. Money. Gambling. The sudden doubt and bewilderment snaked around your chest and throat, making it hard to even breathe. You leaned against the pillar, mostly to stay hidden.

"As you know him, we have our returning fighter—Jungwon!" The crowd cheered at his name, familiarised with his status. From that, you knew he came here often.

The MC introduced the other dude, but you honestly weren't listening. You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jungwon was a fighter for this gambling underground fighting thing.

When you glanced at the building, you saw the abandoned atmosphere, the lack of equipment or care in the mouldy walls. There were a few tables here and there, chairs stacked around randomly with neglect. It was totally different from the other side you came from.

"Fighters..." the MC said again, moving back so that Jungwon and the other dude could bump fists. The sudden movement of his veiny arms, slightly bruised somewhere, made your stomach flutter at the sight.

You almost cursed at yourself for focusing on something so irrelevant.

He's fighting, and here you are, flustered over the tan colour of his flawless skin. Shaking your head out of it, the ding rang through, and the crowd jumped and cheered louder.

Jungwon was poised, circling around and keeping a distance at first from the dude dressed in a blue tracksuit. You couldn't stop looking, the crowd fading out in your ears.

Then, Jungwon lunged so fast in a single stride, his fist connecting swiftly with the man's ribs that it pushed him back.

The blue man backed up, then struck his first move. The fist flew towards Jungwon in the face, but he only defended, arms brought up vertically before his gaze. The crowd cheered again when Jungwon's posture grew aggressive, eyes sharpening instantly.

One glove hit the blue man's ribs again, the left side, and his other used the distraction to deliver a left hook sharply to his jaw. You gasped as the blue dude staggered backwards, hitting the ropes.

This man, the same dude who worked at a cat café was beating a man up. In a bet. It was as if you went down a rabbit hole and ended up somewhere absurd and nonsensical.

Jungwon didn't end there and used blue dude's foot failure to deliver two sharp blows to his stomach, causing him to double over. Another chance that Jungwon saw—he rained his fists down to the man's nape, then shifted to delivering brusque punches to the side of his face.

Almost as if you could feel the strength put into it. Whatever strength it was, it sent the dude to his knees, head writhing on the floor of the ring.

Even when the cheers erupted louder than before, the only thing floating to the surface was how secretive Jungwon was. He had managed to mask the scars with silly excuses and mishaps—but this?

This was a whole other level of what you expected. And he kept it a secret from you. Why? You couldn't find it in you to claw at the anger; rather, you were just bewildered.

Stepping away from the pillar, you planned to head out and clear your polluted head of the dark lights and dark fight. Even then, you cast one more glance back, and your breath hitched as Jungwon's gaze turned to you, freezing you in place.

His smile faded, just like your knowledge of him from the past few weeks, and he tore off his boxing gloves before hopping down to the musty ground. The crowd gave way as the winners went to get their money, and the losers grew desolate.

For some reason, you remained in place, hoping that whatever he was about to say would eradicate this new view of him. But it was selfish to think that you could just ignore what you saw, to keep this memory in a bubble that you hoped to never pop. Though, it wasn't reality.

With a calculated walk, he approached swiftly but softly locked your fingers together and led you away from the main scene towards a different set of doors, his expression saying absolutely nothing. You let him do so.

The silence once entering the hallway was harsh, almost suffocating. His heavy footsteps broke it as he pulled you along to this door, shoving it open and revealing a simple locker room.

Clean, lit, and well-organised.

Once you were in, he shut and locked the door, his back facing you, as if he didn't know what words to say. Even you, who had a plethora of thoughts and questions, couldn't bring yourself to inquire what kind of shit just went down back there.

Jungwon sighed, leaning on the door on his elbows before turning; his face was shining with sweat, a small bruise on his jaw with golden locks damp and stuck to his forehead. When he saw your perplexity, he quickly glanced away.

It's fine if he didn't want to talk. Your voice was still lost, even whilst he was doing a brief shower in the next room. Sitting on a random bench, you heard the water stop running behind you, the rustle of the metal rings as he pulled the curtain.

This was too intimate, but if you weren't so confused, you would have acknowledged it and allowed to twist your thoughts into a blushing mess.

There had to be something reasonable; a crevice that you missed that contained the reason of his expressive dance of aggression. You fiddled with your dress as he moved behind you, head lowered and desperate to shed light on the answer.

"Y/n..?" His voice rang out behind you, as if the time had finally come to face him. You were silent, unmoving.

The footsteps came around, and suddenly, he was crouching before you, his blonde locks now fluffy, his body donning a black shirt and loose pants, and his hickory eyes stubbornly gazed at you.

It just managed to melt whatever was frozen in your chest and mind. Almost.

Tentative, he held both your hands, careful, but you didn't pull away. You actually missed it. You missed more than that; your gaze flickered to his lips but darted away, sighing.

"Why did you come here—how did you even find this place?" Jungwon began saying softly, squeezing your hand.

"Is that all you're worried about? How about you tell me what this place is?" You remarked, the doubt from before resurfacing like a solid piece of ice to prick your nerves.

Jungwon sighed and held your hands tighter, not wanting to lose whatever connection had you and him tied together. "I will, I just..."

He hesitated. "You weren't supposed to find this place."

"And yet, you're in it. And, so many people are as well. It wasn't hard to follow," you said again quietly, your breaths shaky from containing your bewilderment and apprehension.

What if this was an illegal gambling thing? What if this could get him pulled into a storm with the law if he was found out? Too many risks, and he's so calm about it.

"Okay. I'll explain." He stood from the floor before seating himself beside you, searching for the beginning and the reasons deep in his memory.

"It's underground fighting. They bet on us, yeah, but it's optional. It doesn't make it better, but the reason why I joined is because of the money," he said. Your left hand was in his lap, interlaced with his own fingers, while your gaze remained on the floor.

"You know how I told you I ran away?" He said with hope, to which you nodded slowly. "I needed quick money. Extra, quick money. The cat café wasn't enough, I turned to this. I couldn't stand being a burden, and I still can't."

The more he explained, the more he managed to melt that icy doubt away, soothing it. You listened, eyes flickering to his, which held the shining gratitude for your patience.

It made you realise that he wanted your understanding rather than keeping you in the dark. He took the effort, and you couldn't look away.

"Not only did I learn boxing, I learned how to be in control of my own life. All my life, I was never enough, and it was always shoved in my face. Boxing helped me just... vent. And, not to hurt people — that's not the point. But to finally feel like I was doing something useful to myself and that I wanted to do it for myself. The skills I gain here—they're mine." He held your hand tighter, sensing the relaxation in the way you grasped his hand back.

Jungwon knew yours and his life was different: you had money stuck to your background and present, privilege floating around you like a bubble, whilst he scraped his life, took the token of bravery to get where he was today. He didn't expect you to understand easily, but what he did know was how you radiated empathy.

You held his hand tighter, finally facing his heavy eyes with guilt for having so much bewilderment and judgement hitting at him. "I'm sorry. I just... I was confused."

You didn't expect his soft chuckle, but it gave you the gnawing butterflies all the same, heat creeping up your chest and your neck.

"Don't worry about it. It's my fault for not telling you earlier." Jungwon smiled.

"So, Shadow, the cat wasn't responsible for this one?" You asked, cupping the side of his jaw with a new field of purple and red on his skin. Sheepishly, he grinned again from your reminder of his web of lies.

"No. He wasn't," Jungwon replied with mirth. You tutted.

"You threw him under the bus. I knew he was a sweetheart," you said with a small pout of disbelief. He chuckled, having the strong urge to nibble on your lower lip, but he held back. He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. That was my big secret. I blamed the cat for my antics." He leaned in slightly as his grip crept to your waist, hooking around you like a sly snake desiring one thing. The touch made you squeak, your eyes widening slightly.

"I can't believe you're defending the cat so easily..." He mumbled, tugging you closer until your hands gripped his shoulders and your faces were close enough to entice you.

There was an intense mischief in his eyes, ones that sparkled in the way that you loved it, in the way that you couldn't reject.

"The cat didn't keep secrets," you remarked softly, hands sliding around his nape, making him intake a sharp breath before chuckling at the infuriating sass you always hit him with. He tightened the grip on your waist, fingers pressing into the small of your back.

"Okay. I got it. No more secrets," Jungwon said, now a breath away from your lips, staring with warmth and a promise that shone heavily in his gaze.

"Promise?" You whispered. Jungwon smirked and nodded.

"Promise," he murmured back before closing the distance between your lips, the softness capturing yours and making your mind blank. No thoughts dared to interrupt you as your lips moved fervently against his.

Jungwon huffed and delved into another, tongue boldly tracing the seam of your lips, crossing whatever boundaries you had set. He hadn't even confessed to you, but friends don't kiss like this.

You don't even like the idea of friends. It left a bitter thought, like a scent lingering after many days. And you grew sick of it.

With a groan, your lips parted and the warmth of his tongue joined yours; your heart pounded, the drums of them raging and bellowing in your ear. It was as if your heart was declaring what you had for Jungwon even if you didn't say it.

He pulled you closer, hands strongly lifting you onto his lap, straddling him only for you to clutch his collar, tilting your face as you kissed him once more, stealing his breath. Jungwon breathing chuckled against your pretty lips, one hand cupping the back of your head, and the other enclosing your waist.

He trapped you in his touch, and you weren't complaining. You felt the heat of his torso against yours, body curving into his like a perfect puzzle.

When he finally departed, he breathed heavily, soft pants exchanged between the two of you. With your forehead against his, Jungwon's gaze met yours again.

Desperate and mellow, wanting to yearn for your trust again, for your touch to soothe the guilt stuck to his nerves.

"No more secrets."

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Over the past month, you and him shared kisses in privacy, going on dates whilst you tailored lies for your parents to wear.

It wasn't like you were embarrassed—no—but your parents had standards of who you dated. If they found out you dated a boxer, someone that worked at a simple cat café, they would certainly freak out and subtly implement more supervision than needed.

And, you didn't need that right now. To be treated like an inept child unable to think for herself.

He understood, and he made sure to make every kiss and touch last longer, to stretch across oceans and make you forget that you were drowning in the tasks of everyday life.

Though, Jay did fully ban you and him after hours in the café after he found you and Jungwon making out in the janitors closet.

"Are you guys homeless, or do you just like making my day worse by doing it at a public place," Jay had said, making you shield yourself with Jungwon and his laughing self.

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Well, one day...

Jungwon was working, as usual, when these girls nearby gossiped among the feline friends. He slightly paused his work at the counter, pretending to be fussed with his monitor.

"If your man doesn't get you at least, I don't know, a promise ring, is he even in the same relationship?" One girl scoffed as she sat on the floor nearby.

Now, Jungwon wouldn't usually care about such conversations, but his imaginary ears perked anyway: if it wasn't for your birthday coming up, he would ignore them. Except, the idea of getting a gift sent a heavy stone of doubt into his chest. He was too curious now and let his curiosity overtake him in an attempt to soothe the lament anchoring at his ribs.

He inched closer, masking it as a job to dust off one of the pastel counters.

"For real. They have to mean it, and that means getting something expensive," the other girl said with a giggle.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, gripping the cloth a little tighter. Your birthday was soon. And he wanted to make this perfect and worth it. Even if he had to do one more fight to scrape that money.

Jungwon raised a sceptical eyebrow, rubbing down the counter more to get rid of the nonexistent dirt. With your birthday being soon, the only priority was making sure that his gift was weaved with sincerity. But, what was worth that sincerity?

Was it the money? The expenses? Did he need to scrape more cash to prove his love for you through his gift?

To be honest, he wouldn't mind enduring more fights if that meant lighting up your eyes with those stars that always uncovered themselves with any ray of joy.

You were worth all the bruises.

Besides, he didn't want to let his financial situation set a barrier as to what he could do to deliver an adequate present. With what you endured during university, working hard to stay afloat in your studies, you probably craved a moment of respite, a moment in a bubble that was far from reality.

When he got his break, he sat down in the café where it was empty, Shadow curling in his lap as he scrolled online for a 'promise' ring. It couldn't be hard. It also couldn't be that expensive.

He was thoroughly wrong when he stumbled across a decent and dainty ring but immediately tossed his phone on the floor when he observed the string of zeroes and numbers.

Before the decimal point as well.

A puff of air left him, forcing out the lingering cloud of apprehension.

Shadow meowed as if he was judging him, those green eyes blinking up at him. Annoyed, Jungwon frowned and crossed his arms.

"You don't even have fingers. You can't judge me."

Shadow immediately jumped off his lap, making Jungwon's exasperation sunk deeper into his chest. He threw his arms in the air. "I didn't mean it!"

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Jungwon thought long and hard to the point his brain must have burned itself out, his patience being thinner than the strand of hair.

Who knew the stress of gifts would be weighing down on his soul that much. At boxing practice, his hooks were messy, unfocused and he ended up jolting pain up his shoulder.

There wasn't anymore time because your birthday had arrived; the skies were somewhat cloudy, the icy air nipping at his skin and brushing past his golden locks. Jungwon avoided the cold by a black coat and a thick scarf that practically swallowed his face.

"Jungwon!" You squealed from afar, jogging to him with a bounce in your step. He couldn't help but smile, his heart warming as you jumped into his arms, and he spun you around.

Those soft giggles of yours filled his ears, like honey, and he grinned down at you once safely on the concrete.

"Happy birthday, my love," he said with a tilt of his head, finding your sincere joy utterly adorable. He held your waist as you gripped his shoulders.

"Thank you! Nice scarf, by the way," you commented, hand running down the orange and green fabric, the thickness surprising you.

"Thanks. I can't risk catching a cold on my day off," he murmured, kissing you firmly on your temple. That alone sent your heart to beat too fast for your own good, your breath hitching as he did. You could never grow tired of this type of intimacy.

"So, you wanted to take me out?" You began to walk with him down the street in your thick coat. Jungwon nodded.

After he had searched for a promise ring, he found himself meeting dead ends at every corner. It was frustrating, to say the least, but it meant scavenging for a new solution to the gift problem.

"Well, I know you love doing your nails. And, I think they're due for another check-up, right?" He asked as his warm hand hoisted yours to his gaze, firmly clutching yours. Indeed, some nails were chipped away with time.

"Yeah, yeah, I am due. But, you don't need to," you reassured Jungwon earnestly. As if you had said something ridiculous, he scoffed as he focused on the path ahead.

"It's your birthday. Why wouldn't I do your nails. I want to do something meaningful for you," Jungwon explained, his voice soft and layered with endearment.

You clutched his hand tighter, somehow wanting to connect you to him more than you already were. Both hands swung between you and him as the warmth threaded delicately into your chest. "It can get pricey, that's all."

Jungwon stopped walking, and you were pulled back to spot the igniting determination.

"I want to. I know what I want," he said, taking a close step forward to linger over you. "And that's to make you happy."

Flutters erupted in your stomach again, small butterflies freed in the pits of your guts, making a smile tug your lips. He was sweet, so full of personality, and you always saw his kindness in the way it decorated his actions.

How could anyone not like him? You would rather leave that irrelevant question unsolved.

You started walking again, pulling him along with a stupid, giddy smile and intertwined hands.

Jungwon didn't comment on it, letting the internal glee shower you like blossoms.

Watching you at the nail salon was not as boring as he thought it would be. The interior was soft and dim as the nail technician chipped off the older charms, scraping the glue off your nails.

To Jungwon, it looked painful, but you weren't even flinching from any agony. Or, you were really good at hiding it.

Whatever it was, Jungwon didn't complain because he, himself, was enamoured by the way you yapped about your day, something about this girl at university annoying you out of your mind during lectures.

But did Jungwon know the details? No. Did he even pay attention to what the girl said that apparantly ripped you to academic misery? No.

When he had looked at you in that moment, it was as if the sunlight magically appeared, beaming down on you, making your laugh seem like a symphony that soothed his soul, and your mannerisms after each incredulously sentence was oh so endearing. You were like an angel, blinding all his senses with your light. He sat there with his chin propped on his palm, eyes unblinking.

"And, you know I hate team projects—hey, are you listening?" Your voice snapped him out of his daydream. He cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed.

"Yeah, of course," he murmured as if it was an obvious answer. By the look in his sheepish smile, you knew none of your words actually settled in his mind, and rather, it flew away before he grasped any understanding.

"Really? What was the guy's name?" You asked, challenging him. He rubbed the back of his neck, pouting in concentration.

"Um... Ben—"

"I'm not even talking about a guy! I was talking about Yena! A girl," you whined to him, trying not to move for the technician. Jungwon chuckled and put his hands up in a mock surrender.

"You got me," he said with a smile absent of any guilt. How shameless.

Huffing as you turned away from him, your pout only invited his fingers to playfully poke them, the gesture forcing the heat to stitch into your stomach and chest. You could never get used to this, the butterflies that practically lived inside your guts and sensed your love for him.

Again, you stuck your tongue out, determined to prove that it didn't affect you so much, but you had a hint that he knew what he was doing and he was welding it as a weapon.

After the nail appointment, your stomach was grumbling loudly, needing something digest. Jungwon simply led you down the street, pointing to multiple restaurants.

The nails did do some damage, but he wouldn't mind paying for your food either. Ultimately, you decided on this normal ramen shop, the interior dim and brown, the lighting exuding warmth, and a wave of tranquillity.

"Ugh, I'm starved, Wonie," you said dramatically. Jungwon grinned, gently nudging you by the waist to the booth at the back of the building.

"I know. You must be so tired from sitting there and watching your nails," he murmured playfully, clearly enjoying the way you sent a soft glare to him, one dormant of any aggression.

Well, once the food was ordered, you and him had the chopsticks at a ready, the steam of the food wafting in the air, and a stack of tissues on standby.

"Thank you, Won," you chirped just before your utensils dug into the tteokbeokki. Nothing but pure affection bloomed in his eyes as he smiled again, one with sincerity.

"Anytime."

The dinner was a success with you yapping once more about the food, the nail design which you were utterly grateful for, all inspired by Pinterest. He only nodded and smiled, attentive to your voice as ingrained into the walls of his head.

He would carve your voice into his mind if he had to ever capture your exuberant gesticulations.

It made him think and realise that you probably didn't act like this at home. That you were forced to be demure about your wants and wishes, having to withold your tongue in the depths of your chest.

It was cruel that you couldn't find your voice, like this, to confront your parents; it wasn't just the studies, but it was also the fact that Jungwon was a secret. Someone in the shadows of your life, as if he didn't deserve to be brought into the light.

The thought prickled his composure, tingling his skin, and his grip on the chopsticks tightened as your voice droned on. It was something he didn't want to ask, but it came out before he could decide the rationality.

"Are you... embarrassed of me?" Jungwon stared at you with a stillness that stopped your previous conversation. There was a weight burning in his eyes, small as a spark, but still powerful to evolve into something more.

With a nervous chuckle, you tilted your head at him. "Of course not, Wonie."

He hummed, eyes leaving yours for a second to pick up some of the rice cake; your gaze was still burning into him, trying to dissect what he was implying. And why.

"I see."

"Why would I be embarrassed? You're literally one of the best people in my life," you countered again when his voice dimmed.

Jungwon knew he should understand. There was more to it, but in his head, he wanted to remind you that there were other options other than staying in the confines of your parents' boundaries; you could always trek down a different path, a path paved by your decisions. However, it was easier said than down.

"No. It's just that... I don't buy you luxuries, I barely take you out. I fight, for peace sake," he explained, his voice anchored by his own insecurities. His words alone told you he was secretly sinking in his own reluctance.

Your hand reached out to his, gripping it firmly. "I don't care."

I don't have a big ass job or working a corporate nine-to-five," he went on again, making your heart sting. You held his hand tighter, his eyes flickering to yours.

"I don't care. Really." You attempted a small smile that only made his questions rise deeper from below.

"Then, why keep me a secret?" He asked, rubbing your knuckles softly with the pad of his thumb. The question caught you off guard, your thoughts unsteadily rocking at sea from it.

It was true. Why didn't you? Because, what? You're scared of your parents, friends? Scared they would separate you and Jungwon?

Yeah, it was a valid fear. You don't care that Jungwon doesn't have the most colourful job in the world, but that doesn't mean you were embarrassed of him.

"I just don't want to deal with their shit," you said softly, grip tightening in his as if you tried to convey the weight of your parents on him. Jungwon held your gaze, munching slowly.

"You shouldn't be afraid of them. You're already doing so much for them, the least they can do is let you date," he replied, the tension bolted in his words.

"I'm not scared of them... I just don't want us to be separated. I really like you, Jungwon. I can't lose you," you suddenly rambled on, pouring out the vulnerability you always preserved around him. With his eyes softening, understanding slowly stitched in his gaze.

"I get it. I like you, too. But, I don't you to exhaust yourself by keeping me a secret," he murmured as he glanced back down, something clouding the hope that once stood there.

"I will tell them one day. They're just... on my back with studies and stuff," you explained again, recognising your own words was just a mask of the excuse underneath. Though, Jungwon nodded and smiled with a resigned sigh.

"I know. I don't want you stressed." He held your gaze, blinking with those eyes always void of judgement.

That was one thing you love about him—the undeniable understanding he had with your situation, how you always found a respite, an oasis in his arms. It made you feel as if you could tell him anything.

And, as he said before, no more secrets.

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APPARANTLY, GRADES WEREN'T THE ONLY THING YOUR PARENTS WERE CONCERNED ABOUT.

Having her tug down a dress down your thighs, you kept protesting and frantically questioning her; each time, she hushed your concerns and sewed your complaints shut.

It grew worse when your mother haphazardly did your hair, earning a few agonised protests.

"Mother, what are you doing—"

"Stop moving, Y/n!" She scolded.

Soon enough, you were downstairs and pulled into the lounge. It would have been a normal sight if you didn't see a new set of eyes and faces, all peering at you as if you were the newest thing to be displayed.

Discomfort stitched your chest into a tight space when you saw new sets of faces, eyes all peering curiously over you. There was an elderly man and woman accompanied by a younger dude with pale skin and moles etched under his eye and on his nose.

"Ah—here's my daughter!" Your father exclaimed, putting an arm around your shoulder, hoisting you deeper into this mess. Sending a look of bewilderment to your parents, they completely ignored you.

"She's lovely," the other woman said, patting the younger boy's arm softly but excited.

"Introduce yourself," your mother said with a hinted demand in her tone. You knew better than to question her right now: she had that look where her eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing with glittering expectation.

Clearing your throat and waving slightly, you gathered your voice whilst they all pointed their gaze on you, the stares like needles to your skin.

"I'm Yn. Nice to meet you," You said. The other parents, plus the boy, all grinned at your tone, mistaking the confusion as courtesy.

Again, the other elderly woman nudged the young boy softly to go forward like you did. Once he did, offered a cordial handshake.

"I'm Sunghoon. Nice to meet you, too."

Said Sunghoon was gorgeous, of course. But, that didn't answer the question in the spotlight. It was still very much distracting you. You sent a look of bewilderment to your parents.

"Yn, Sunghoon and his parents have expressed an interest in you."

That made your whole world freeze. All your nerves totally halted in place, your brain chemistry dying down from that single sentence as you stared at her wide-eyed.

Shock shot right through you, stunning all your nerves into ice, even your thoughts. With wide eyes, you stared at your parents as if they had held the gun and triggered the bullet.

What the hell????

...

The dining room lingered with silence except the occasional clink when you absentmindedly stirred the straw in your glass. Gorgeous Sunghoon was poised beside you, drinking. And the parents?

They went to the kitchen as if to let the chemistry blossom between you and him. But, there was nothing but dead roots in place with your patience discreetly withering with it.

It's your parents and their damn noses digging into your love life and rearranging that as well.

Wasn't the studies enough? What were they so worried about? Were you that socially unavailable that you couldn't open your shell to new people? Is that how they saw you?

Then, there was Jungwon, who easily peeled away your barriers, finding the key and treading right into your heart. And, wherever he stepped, flowers bloomed behind him and created a sprightly path of life.

Now? This Sunghoon dude singlehandedly lifted all your walls up into immovable stone.

"Yeah, so that's where I want to work. My father thinks I can take after him in a few years, even though I kind of know everything." Sunghoon took another sip of his glass while you zoned out, circling the straw in your untouched drink.

"So, what about you?" He asked, fully facing you. It startled you for a moment, but you restrained the urge to roll your eyes, and set your cup down.

"I'm still in university, so. I just entered actually." You glanced at him, masking the boredom prickling your internals. Sunghoon smiled, but one filled with curiosity.

"Doing something in healthcare, right?"

Whenever you heard the core word, a single petal died in your head, making it hard to eve keep the composure alive. Even then, you nodded once and distracted your impatience by gripping the cold glass.

He hummed, as if pleased.

"Hard, but rewarding." He set his finished glass down, now leaning on his knuckles, examining your features with interest, as if trying to decipher how you truly felt.

In reality, you would do anything to be with Jungwon and do absolutely nothing because simply orbiting around him would ease all creases of boredem that you had right now. It was quite telling.

The silence stretched on for long, and you know you should have made some small talk, but this whole encounter, quite frankly, pissed you off to no ends, your serenity thinning to a strand.

Honestly, it was a way for him to take the hint that you had no interest to take this further into the future.

Besides, your interests laid elsewhere.

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YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS THE END OF IT, BUT NO. After that awkward day, you were prepared to meet Jungwon in disguise for a 'study session' with your classmates in town when your mother knocked on the door.

Without waiting a response, she barged in with a sly smile that curled your guts into tight knots.

"Sunghoon wants to meet you again!" She exclaimed, coming up to you when she noticed your heavy tote bag. "Where are you going?"

"I told you. The library," you said with a lie, making sure all essentials were packed in.

"You can't! He's coming over as we speak," she said, making you gawk at her as if she had shot another bullet at you.

"Mother—I told you that I'm not free today!"

"It's just studying. You won't be missing anything," she remarked with a hand on her hip, demand layered underneath her tone.

The dread, at this point, had rotted away in your chest, making your protests die in your vocal chords. You just sighed and dropped your bag onto your bed whilst she careened towards your walk-in closet.

The frown tugged at your lips at the thought of putting down a date with Jungwon, who had his day off today out of all days. The universe had other plans to subdue your happiness for some reason. What would you tell him?

Come to think of it, you hadn't told Jungwon of this unexpected courtship. It totally slipped your mind because you thought it was a one-time thing. Now that your mother brought you the news, unease bubbled at the pit of your stomach, as if the topic itself caused nausea.

If you told him about Sunghoon, it would just be messy: telling your boyfriend about the courtship looming over you like a storm cloud was not the best conversation to have. Besides, you are going to fully reject Sunghoon and make sure that this mess doesn't extend any further.

Telling him about Sunghoon would just be messy: who even wanted to break that to their boyfriend that another man was trying to sprout something nonexistent? It was almost laughable. Except, you were going to reject Sunghoon and make it clear that your stone walls would not crumble for him. Meaning... none of this would evolve further.

Your mother returned with multiple hangers, droning on and on about how to impress the family.

When she wasn't looking, you rolled your eyes.

Again, the dinner at the table was mostly held by the chatter of the parents, their boisterous laughter and audacious words about work and business was a enough to lull you to sleep.

Whilst your fork stabbed into a strawberry, Sunghoon sipped his tea once more, his gaze landing on you and attempting to break apart your expression.

"You don't look pleased," he stated quietly, not enough for the parents to hear. A small sigh escaped your lips when thinking of how to approach this without seeming like a brat about it.

"Can I be honest, Sunghoon?" You turned to him slightly. He nodded easily.

"I'm not... interested in taking this further," you admitted, not knowing why apprehension weaved into your chest and made itself clear.

Sunghoon looked away for a moment, maybe to contemplate why, or maybe to decide what to even do with that information. Then, he exhaled a slow breath that gave you no clue as to what emotion was flowing through him.

"I kind of know," he began to say, careful but resigned. You raised an eyebrow.

"I understand." He looked back at you with uncertainty and something else stitched deep within. You held his gaze before speaking.

"It was nice to meet you and all, but i think this will be our last meeting." You glanced back at the fruit salad sitting idly on the table, neglected and growing cold. Sunghoon hummed, nodding once.

Then, the silence rolled in again like a thick fog that prevented any words from rising to your lips. Relieved or anxious—you don't know.

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Jungwon wasn't the type to be suspicious of you. Or anyone, quite frankly. But, when you cancelled last week on the date that was a rain check on your other cancelled date, the insecurity anchored down in the depths of his chest.

There had to be a reason, of course. You couldn't be purposely doing so—you were too smitten, too entangled with his string of fate, and he knew you were in too deep.

So, what was the reason really? When he had asked you what happened, you texted something vague, something indubitably stitched with a secret.

Jay came over as Jungwon leaned back on the boxing ring, slapping a hand on his back, jolting him out of his thoughts. Jungwon cleared his throat.

"What are you thinking so deeply about?" Jay asked, snagging the bandage roll on the platform by his shoulders.

Jungwon could name a few.

"Nothing. Just... thinking." Jungwon crossed his arms despite the stones of doubt lurching at his internals. It was quite damn hard to ignore.

"Thinking. Hm, yeah. I've tried that," Jay mused with amusement, making Jungwon glower at him. Putting up his hands in mock surrender, he said, "hey, I'm just teasing.

"I know. It's just that I... ugh." Jungwon groaned, running a hand through his hair because his uncertainty was too strong, but it was also formed on the basis of nothing. All these negative thoughts formed without foundation, yet they were sky-high and dangerous.

Jay waited patiently for Jungwon to gather himself.

"I just feel insecure, you know?" Jungwon started as Jay bandaged up his wrist with the protective layer.

"About?"

"My girlfriend."

"Oh, good God," Jay said with a roll of his eyes. "What, trouble in paradise?"

Jungwon ignored the comment, even though a punch to Jay's arm was awfully enticing. But, he digressed. "Not really. But, maybe it's just me."

"Talk to me, bro," Jay urged on with his back leaned against the platform. Those words coming from his trusted friend were enough for him to just undo the knot tensing his muscles.

"She blew me off twice. And, I know she's super busy, but we didn't go out on my day off. Was kinda stumped," Jungwon explained with a hard hand through his locks. Jay whistled slightly.

"Well, did she explain why?" Jay asked with a tilt of his head, lurching the bandage roll into the air and catching it methodically.

"Yeah. She said something came up with her family. Twice." Jungwon frowned again, thinking from square one.

"You trust her, right? Like, she won't go running off with another man," Jay said but the younger one caught onto the joke snuck into his tone. Jungwon's ground his teeth together.

"She won't."

"Just making sure before I tell you that your girlfriend probably has her reasons. And, also just talk it out with her if you feel that disturbed by it. Seriously, you haven't even got into the ring," Jay exclaimed, gesticulating to the empty platform behind both of them.

Jungwon sighed again, deciding that the only way to distract his damn thoughts was to fixate on a choreography that was his boxing skills.

Once his boxing gloves were on and Jay wore the punching puds on each hand, he switched his brain off, and strengthened his shoulders, one hand near his face, the other slightly forward.

The sharp punches rang out through the empty room, each jab done with laser concentration. Of course, you lingered in his head with your pretty eyes and easy words, but along with you came the dark rain cloud of doubt, threatening to dampen his focus.

Jungwon went to deliver the punch harder, only for his body to stiffen and not turn. When the punch landed, pain struck up his shoulder like a bite, and he grunted.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Jay said, lowering his raised hands. Jungwon grit his teeth, patting his shoulder with the gloves still intact on his left fist, trying to ignore the crumbling calm.

"Don't ask. I'm having a bad day," he mumbled, leaning back against the sturdy ropes. Jay scoffed.

"Yeah, bet you are. You've been having one of those for days," Jay remarked, ripping off the velcro and dropping the punching pads to the corner. Jungwon watched, gaze wavering between reality and his memories.

The effect you had was magnetic and he didn't know if he liked how his thoughts all drifted to you, your lovely words, the sparkle in your eyes that seemed to fuel his igniting love.

Jungwon leaned over the thick, sturdy ropes, observing the other boxers loitering around the platforms, or having a quiet snack on the benches. One thing that did startled him out of his daze was the door creaking open harshly.

It hit the wall, a bang clattering through, and Jungwon tensed slightly upon seeing a neat and put-together dude. He had black hair, messy and loose like he had not bothered to brush most of it, and had a black shirt with pants.

The slight quirk of his eyebrows as he scanned the room gave the impression that he didn't stumble onto her on purpose. The smug smirk sent Jungwon's composure on another lake of fragility.

Jay stood straight, leaning over the ropes. "Um, are you lost or something? Never seen you around here before."

Said man gazed at Jay, then to Jungwon's prickly scowl before smiling diligently. He waved a hand in dismissal.

"I'm okay. I know where I am, but you're right about me never being around here before," he began to say, his voice deep, lingering in the air sharply.

"Can I ask why you're here? You don't look... appropriately dressed," Jungwon said with a tilt of his head.

"Doesn't mean I'm oblivious in my destinations. I can still grapple just as efficiently in trousers and a shirt." He grinned at Jungwon, making the mental tightrope tremble more.

This dude gave him an overwhelming wave of off intuition.

"I hardly believe that." Jungwon fired back, making some of the people on the room silence, and for Jay to give subtle jabs of warning through his narrowed eyes. Though, Jungwon was blind and could not see anything except the handsome man on a black attire that only seemed too inappropriately dressed for boxing.

The man smiled, but it was unsettling, like there was something locked away, concealed. He walked up to the platform Jungwon was stood on and tilted his head.

"You wanna bet?"

Jungwon instantly had all his composure and logic fly out the window and melt as he furrowed his brows. This dude had the audacity to challenge him, to question the strength of his skills that he built brick by brick.

Leaning over the sturdy strings, he glared down at the said dude. "Yeah. Bet."

That's how Jungwon found himself opposite the smartly-dressed dude wearing boxing gloves. It was infuriating. Not only was he wearing trousers, not even fit to stretch for comfort, but he was wearing shiny, smart shoes.

The type that glared when the light hit them, and they were slightly pointy. How ugly was that. Jungwon scowled deeper, the bitterness twisting in sharply, making him get into the stance.

"I'm Sunghoon, by the way," the man said as he circled around the opposite side. Jay watched cautiously from one of the empty corners. Jungwon didn't give two shits and scoffed.

"I don't care," he said before circling closer, swiftly and with impatience tainting his movements. He lunged forward on his left, right, then jabbed with both hands.

Sunghoon defended, bringing both hands up to cover his face. He grit his teeth before seeing the oppurtunity, and delivered an upper hook to Jungwon's stomach.

A small grunt left him, but he knew it wasn't hard. Recovering from the slight ache clutching his skin, Jungwon recoiled back a few steps.

What was wrong with him? His movements weren't usually so sloppy, and he could normally predict the next moves and construct a defense, a response before it even played out.

Now? Oh, now his skills felt shadowed. Out of the light, and it peeved him greatly.

Sunghoon circled again, assessing and scanning Jungwon head to toe, as if he possessed the same ability to predict his punches. How? To Jungwon, his skills couldn't be mirrored.

Maybe he was really having a bad day.

Narrowing his gaze, Jungwon huffed a breath and lunged forward. A dance from his left, right, left again and jabbing with force.

Sunghoon scowled, shifting to his left. The oppurtunity shined to him and Jungwon delivered a rounded and swift hook to Sunghoon's jaw, making him stumble back.

He couldn't help the satisfaction swarm his ego, but he didn't want to let it get to his head before the match was over, though.

Fire flamed in Sunghoon's gaze. Before he knew it, Sunghoon side-stepped quickly, deceiving Jungwon as he shifted from his right to the left. Not being able to keep up, Jungwon stumbled back when a harsh ache rippled through his right side.

Gritting his teeth to avoid the bubbling anger, he went to strike when Jay appeared, intervening with a stern glance. "That's enough."

Jungwon and Sunghoon panted slightly, recovering from the brief match that probably lasted a minute. Jungwon wouldn't mind if he had 5 more minutes to beat the ego and shit out of this cocky, rich dude.

Someone needed to knock that smugness off his high horse.

"Jay hyung, what gives?" Jungwon muttered with a flicker of frustration. Jay scoffed and crossed his arms, still standing defensively between the two.

"First of all, this dude isn't dressed properly," Jay said, nudging a thumb in Sunghoon's direction, who was ripping the velcro off the gloves. "And second, you haven't been having the best streak of practice."

Jungwon's ears flamed alight, the embarrassment from all his inept punches and techniques catching up to him. He didn't want to think about it, but when he did, the anger crashed down like merciless hail.

Just everywhere and undeniably jarring.

"I don't care. He wanted a match, I was about to give him one," Jungwon snapped at his best friend, who already had disbelief stitched into the lines of his face.

Sunghoon scoffed, shoving the gloves off to the floor, facing Jungwon. "It wasn't like you were winning."

"Oh, yeah? Let's finish the match right now—"

Jay intercepted, putting a hand on Jungwon's shoulder before his ferocity could act out. With a firm glare, Jay spoke. "Don't. We're not finishing anything. You need to calm down, even you, shiny shoe dude."

Sunghoon shrugged, not minding the weird name.

Jungwon slumped his shoulders, the anger gripping his head with thick claws, making it impossible to even think without glaring. He just hard the desperate urge to pummel his face until it was bleeding, until his own arm cramped.

Jay sighed and pushed Jungwon softly in an attempt to get him away from that pit of anger he was falling into. "Go, Jungwon."

He would have followed his hyung's orders had it not been for that imperceptible smirk curled at Sunghoon's lips. It made him look weak, as if he let Sunghoon run past the finishing line, when Jungwon hadn't even unleashed his full potential.

For what reason Jungwon felt so pertubed, he had no idea. Maybe it was because this Sunghoon dude was everything he was not. Money seemed to exude off him like his own personal scent, whilst Jungwon had cat hair clung to his trousers.

Ripping off the damn punching gloves, he discarded them before shoving past Jay to jab a finger at Sunghoon. "You think you won this?"

Sunghoon simply smirked, tilting his head with hands tucked into his pockets. "I don't need to say it, do I?"

"Nothing has been proved. Come back here this Friday, and then you can 'prove' yourself before an audience," Jungwon muttered with stones of hatred embedded in his tone. Sunghoon just scanned, unmoving.

Then, he sighed and nodded dismissively. "Fine. This Friday. I want to make it fair."

No words came to mind as he saw Sunghoon manoeuvring himself to the ground and dust his hands as if it was an easy task. But, to Jungwon, there was a stronger flame engulfing his thoughts and nerves, blinding him in the rage.

Jay, to say the least, was not impressed.

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The Tuesday was slow and, surprisingly, peaceful. Classes moved at a snail pace, lectures lasted for miles, and the only thing that kept you energised was the fact that Jungwon proposed to take you out today to a café.

One that he randomly found on tiktok and sent to you at midnight like the impulsive nocturnal he was. But, you weren't any better because you also lived as the night owl in your home.

The night held a different serenity. The silence was the constant melody that accompanied you in the late hours of night no matter how unhealthy it made your sleep schedule.

Refraining a yawn, the lecturer soon ended the class, and you packed everything up swiftly to get out of there. Three hours of that was enough to make a crack in your mindspace.

Today was going to be good—going to eat out with your boyfriend, share stories and secret jokes that tightened your bond even more.

Pushing past the glass doors, you descended the stairs and saw the familiar, black car with a familiar figure leaning on the door. A smile instantly appeared on your lips when you saw Jungwon looking cosy in his black hoodie and pants, his blonde hair reaching past his ears to form a messy style of a mullet.

"Won!" You exclaimed, jogging to him as he smirked at you, arms opening with an immediate welcome. Crashing into his arms, you engulfed him with your cheek on his warm chest. A minty scent pervaded from his neck, and you nudged your nose at him with a satisfied hum.

"You smell good," you commented, peering up at him. He chuckled with mirth before pinching your cheek.

"For my girl, of course," he said as you whined in feigned pain, swatting his hand away. Eventually, his sneaky hands glided around your waist and settled there, like home.

"What's the first thing on the agenda?" You asked excitedly. Jungwon pretended to ponder, eyes leaving yours as if to recapture his memories before returning to yours.

"Food, food, and more food." He lowered his lips and pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. The warmth travelled up your neck and cheeks, fully rendering you to his merciless affection.

"Perfect plan," you said with a nod.

"Of course it is, I planned it," he remarked, squeezing your waist a little before hauling you with him to the car. You laughed, holding onto his shoulders.

"I can walk, you know?" You giggled as he spun you around and firmly pinned you to the passenger door, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief.

"It's fine to carry you. You're like my personal accessory. I wish I could carry you in my pocket," he said, leaning in with words becoming closer and more intimate.

At his comment, you shook your head with an amused scoff. "Says you. Everything you do is cute. I want to put you in my pocket."

Acting offended, he put a heart to his chest as he tilted his head with a silly smirk gracing his lips. "You wound me, princess."

You and him shared laughter for a few seconds before he saw the light die out in your eyes, your gaze darting behind him, and your grin crumbled.

Jungwon, the ever curious one, did the same and squeezed your waist in worry.

"What's wrong?" He asked carefully as your gaze flickered back to him with newfound worry rising to the surface.

"I..."

You couldn't say anything, and with slight impatient curiosity, Jungwon turned over his shoulder, wondering what had gotten you all flustered like that.

It wasn't the sight he wanted to see, though: walking towards you and him with deliberate ease was Sunghoon, his crisp white shirt underneath his black blazer standing out in the somewhat empty street.

Even those damn shoes tapped like a death knell approaching you and him. Jungwon's gaze darkened, the previous jokes and humour vanishing in a flash, as if the rage he stored away had burned it all.

This dude must be following Jungwon. Of course. Why else would this dude have any speck of audacity to confront you and him like this? The urge to deliver a clean punch with just his knuckles was strong, the instinct like gravity.

The thing is, Sunghoon wasn't even looking at Jungwon with surprise—he was looking at you, as if he had discovered something odd and strange.

You shifted uncomfortably in his arms, leaning off the car and untangling yourself from him slightly, apprehension laced in your actions.

"Y/n, what are you—" Jungwon tried to mumble when Sunghoon called your name like old friends or something. The initial shock was a whip to his thoughts.

"It's funny meeting you here..." Sunghoon finally came within distance, smiling dangerously as he glanced at you, then Jungwon. Jungwon knew that he was commenting some kind of dots, that there was a clockwork of thoughts chiming inside that asshole's head.

Protective, Jungwon stepped forward. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

From the side, he could sense your confused glances between the two of them. Sunghoon simply tilted his head, jerking his head to you in a gesture.

"I was going to pick Y/n up," he replied easily, hands snug in his pockets. There it was again—another strike of confusion forming on the skin of his thoughts. Sunghoon knew your damn name.

"How the hell do you know her name?"

This time, Sunghoon gave an amused look before speaking.

"Well... this is truly funny," Sunghoon said with a slight scoff before darting his eyes to you, as if he had caught you in a web of acts. You quickly glanced away to Jungwon, who was blinking away.

But, Jungwon wasn't satisfied, his questions pricking him as he turned to you and Sunghoon.

"What the fuck is going on?" Jungwon muttered, impatience dappling his tone, and you could clearly see it.

Sunghoon chuckled and stepped towards your stiff stature, jabbing a thumb in your direction. "She hasn't told you?"

Now, the impatience was slowly burning his composure right on the spot. He grit his teeth, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

A sigh escaped your lips, full of more worry of how to untangle this situation because it looks so wrong. Jungwon glanced to you, trying to soften his gaze.

"What haven't you told me?" He asked, taking a step closer to you with somewhat desperation. You know you couldn't hide it anymore. Not when Sunghoon decided to shove you right into the fire.

And, it wasn't fair to him either—to hide the secret that was Sunghoon and his courtship. Gulping hard, you glanced at Jungwon.

"... My parents wanted... they did this a few weeks ago. They wanted to set me up," you began saying, your voice barely fighting past the guilt. Jungwon narrowed his gaze.

"A few—do you mean two weeks ago?" He interjected with his body bolting with tension in every joint, thinking of those times you blew him off for those dates.

The panic seized your nerves, and you quickly stepped to him. "Yes, but I literally decided that I didn't want to do this! So, I don't know why Sunghoon is even here."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as it was all turned on him, staring at you as if he was calculating something before a glint shone through his eyes. You didn't want to find out why.

"Don't tell me... this is your secret boyfriend. And you haven't told your parents?" He scoffed, smiling with those menacing fangs peeking through. The doubt fully cracked Jungwon's composure now, the insecurities of the past few weeks rising to the ground and wringing around his ankles.

"That's not the point. I asked why you are here?" You interjected quickly with somewhat impatience as you glared up at him. Sunghoon just grinned.

"I wanted another chance to explain to you why our parents think we're a good match. But, I no longer think I need to be the one explaining," Sunghoon answered slyly.

Jungwon looked down, breathing slowly through his nose before staring at Sunghoon, thinking of so many things to say to this asshole, and to you.

"And, I'm not the only one who needs an explanation," Sunghoon added on as he looked to the brooding Jungwon, as if he recognised him. That's where your confusion sprouted.

"How do you...?"

"Boxing. The other day, we had a somewhat pleasant match, but we couldn't 'prove' ourselves," Sunghoon answered quickly, and neither you and Jungwon missed the smug tone buried beneath it. He clenched his fists tighter.

"I didn't know that." You glanced at Sunghoon, but he just let out a huff of amusement.

"I didn't know this either. But, hey, we all got secrets, don't we." Sunghoon crossed his arms, the mirth pricking all his words and the way he stood and gave you the same look. His words stung you, the hypocrisy in your own actions swinging back at you as you tried to divert the topic.

"I told you we wouldn't work out," you exclaimed in distress. Jungwon didn't understand how deep you and this dude went, but he knew for sure, that he disliked it deeply. He stared at you now.

Sunghoon dismissively waved his hand, fueling your irritation and desperation more. You huffed, running a hand through your hair before firmly turning to the taller male.

"Sunghoon. Leave. Please." You uttered the last bit with a prickle if desperation, observing how his resolve crumbled. He shrugged, giving one last look to you before narrowing his gaze at Jungwon.

Then, he sauntered away.

The silence between you and him could have measured mountains as you shifted on your feet, too apprehensive to even meet your boyfriend's eyes. Even from here, you could sense the questions he wanted to press.

"I... I can explain—" You tried to say, but Jungwon whirled around, lips pursed, shoulders tight as much as his jaw. You realised the delicacy of his mind right now, the trust dimming in his eyes.

"Why wouldn't you tell me? What...?" Jungwon groaned quietly, running both palms down his face in an attempt to rub off the exasperation in his features. You stepped forward, your thoughts jumbled in a mess.

"I... I didn't think it was important," you uttered, to which he scoffed now, hands by his side.

"You didn't think that it was important to tell me someone was courting you? That your family set you up? You know what?" Jungwon shook his head, eyes darting frantically as he crossed his arms in disbelief. "That's not the point. You could have taken the chance to tell them you're already dating someone."

Here it was again—the idea of pulling back the curtains to expose Jungwon to your parents. "Jungwon, I can't do that!"

"Why?" Jungwon snapped back in a way that shocked you. But, he didn't care. He stepped forward, putting a hand on his chest when you didn't reply.

"I know why," he began saying before adding on, "You're embarrassed of me."

Shock and denial mirrored in your own gaze whe you shook your head. Jungwon found it hard to believe anything else.

What other reason was there to hide the love blossoming between you and him, the unique petals that grew from the seed of your bond? No one else could replicate it the way you and him have. Yet, here you were, putting him deeper past the curtains into isolation.

The thought brought small shards of doubt and hurt to prick his nerves, to make his stomach tighten until he felt sick.

"I'm not embarrassed, Jungwon—"

"Then, why won't you tell them? Huh? To protect me?" Jungwon almost could laugh as he shook his head again, the denial and pain clashing together in a fight he couldn't predict.

The first fight he couldn't predict.

"No, you did this shit to protect yourself!"

You involuntarily flinched at the harshness in his words, but with your voice seemingly lost, Jungwon went on.

"Why do you let them do this to you? I get it—they want what's best for you, but do they get a decision in every part of your life? Over me?" Jungwon asked again, some of his voice losing its edge, but the anger was undeniably shadowing it. Your frown weighed deeper.

"I don't want to lose you. If my parents find out—"

"I don't give a shit about your parents. If it's us, then you should believe in that!"

Anger engulfed, suffocated you like a thick fog, forcing your thoughts and words so quickly that you didn't process your next remark.

"Of course you would say that when you ran away from yours."

The silence stilled him again as your words physically twisted his chest. He could almost spot the regret quickly forging in your eyes, but he was fixated on one thing.

When he told you his past, he told you that in complete confidence, to let his own anguish be lifted off his shoulders. He didn't expect it to be made into a weapon of steel that left him speechless and bewildered. No matter how much anger was brewing in him, the aftertaste of hurt lingered bitterly.

He stepped back, and you shakily stepped forward, remorse flooding your eyes and extinguishing that irritation. Though, Jungwon didn't want to hear it.

"J-Jungwon, I didn't mean that—"

He didn't listen, stepping back with a lump caught in his throat, his head on the verge of erupting. It was too warm, too suffocating despite being outside in the chilly weather. Heck, he wasn't even looking at you.

Yes, he left his parents because their control was like enduring constant stabs to his sanity. If he stayed any more, he would have been a shell of himself, a body with no soul to move him forward. Thinking of home now, he didn't want to retrace those footsteps.

His eyes met your teary ones, acknowledging the guilt beginning to ripen. His own breaths quivered but he forced himself to speak.

"I did. Yeah. But because they controlled me. You think I don't know controlling parents? I do. But I did something about it. It's about time you did as well. Stop latching on to everything they give you." He was breathless by the end of it but the message was firm and unmoving in his gaze.

It forced a shudder to pervade your body, the guilt growing like a toxic plant that only you were to be blamed for. Another step forward, but you flinched as Jungwon put a hand up to prevent anything else.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as he backed away, the agony storming in his eyes, the way he clenched his jaw a little tighter. You couldn't stop him.

You didn't want to stop him because deep down, you knew how he had wrung out the truth and found the seeds of reason as to why you kept him hidden.

It was your fault.

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THREE DAYS.

That's how long the silence stretched on for. And it was killing you. The more you sat and thought about his points, his anger, the more valid you found it to be.

How could you? The realisation struck deeper than any blade could, making you want to just scream and rewind the clock.

But, you couldn't, and you had no idea how to start off the conversation when you had offended him and practically watered his insecurity into a full-fledged plant.

University was rough, and on this fateful Friday morning, you gave in to the sickness plauging your mind and stayed in bed. Your mother didn't question it, but you know she would mumble about it later under her breath, and then depend on the wind to mask it.

When you had finally dressed into something more casual and washed up, you stared down at your phone, the reflection speaking to you in more ways than one.

Not only did you keep him hidden, but you also used his past against him. Whatever indignation you had at that moment crumbled like sand. You had no reason, no justification for the way you turned on him—and for what? To fabricate your own flawed actions? The look in his eyes pummelled you with stones.

Not telling your parents was a weak wall you had built to save yourself from lectures, from the disapproval that would have grown from telling them. But, you knew it wasn't worth the guilt that had blossomed in its place.

If you really thought about it, his insecurities had risen to the surface many times, chilling the conversations into awkwardness, and instead of melting away those internal problems, you just allowed it to freeze something unknown in the relationship.

You should have asked him how to solve this problem. Not how it would affect you: after all, two people make a relationship tick in perfect clockwork, and you only thought about yourself.

You groaned to yourself quietly, facing your ceiling now as you flopped back on your pillows, the stinging remorse burning your chest until tears rose to your eyes. It wouldn't do. The iciness would prevail unless you went out yourself to find him and his warmth.

A knock came on the door, and you lifted your head when your mother came in with some water and tea steaming up from a cup, all placed on a wooden tray.

Discreetly, you wiped your tears as she settled down the tray on your bedside table, sighing slightly. "Do you feel better?"

"Somewhat. Thanks." You took the cup of tea, the sweet scent and steam hitting your nose. When the liquid warmed your throat, it reminded you of the chill remaining in your bones.

She straightened, crossed her arms calculatingly. You didn't like how she was standing so you sipped your tea again.

"By the way..." she began saying as she sat on your bed. "Have you talked to Sunghoon? I still haven't been updated on whether or not you like him. He seems quite interested in you."

That name nearly made your eyes roll. Sunghoon—the dude that secretly boxed and then had the audacity to seek you out after purposely breaking the boundaries. He didn't seem to care.

Not only that, but the distaste he practically struck at Jungwon was clear from the way his narrowed gaze and smug smirk had appeared. It infuriated you, as if Jungwon was something beneath his shoe.

You shook your head, holding your cup tighter. "I don't like him. I thought Sunghoon said that."

"He didn't though. And why do you not like him? He comes from a respectable family?" She asked again and again.

The words almost made you cringe, the irony on them clashing in your head. Respectable? More like arrogant.

"He's not my type." You huffed, and your mother narrowed her gaze.

"Then, what is your type? It just seems like an excuse," she accused again, the slight sharpness cutting into her tone.

Instantly, you thought of Jungwon: he had those big, brown eyes, and they held galaxies within them whenever he was with you, when he took care of the cats at the café. His blonde fluffy hair and the small giggles he would let out that had the ability to draw you away from reality and replay it like a melody you desired to hear for centuries.

Most importantly, his support and understanding. Things he easily practised and sculpted with no trouble. He was so selfless.

And you failed to realise that.

Realising your mother was still awaiting an answer, the urge to just go find Jungwon grew. But, you want to make things right if you were to ever make you and him right.

"Mother. I don't. Like. Him." You sighed, putting the cup down onto the bedside table. She sighed, rubbing a hand to her temple, as if you had broken a valuable item.

"Why?"

"Because I just... don't," you said again, standing up as you went to your vanity, needing physical space before you lashed out.

Jungwon's name crept up your stomach, your chest and his presence swarmed your system. Your mother stood as well.

"That's not a reason, Y/n," she remarked back. And, you realised you had gotten her argumentative tendencies, hearing a lot of yourself.

You faced her again, Jungwon's warm presence once again wrapping around every thought in your mind, locking into each corner of your head.

"I just don't want him—"

"Are you serious? He's smart and respectable, and he would take care of you." She started listing off.

But, he wasn't like Jungwon.

"He's even secure, he would listen to you."

Not like Jungwon.

"And, I don't understand why you're holding back when I'm trying to help you—"

Your composure shattered as you snapped your eyes to her.

"Because I already have a boyfriend!"

You stood there, shoulders and body tense as your mother's face morphed from disbelief and shock to some kind of frustration that hardened instantly.

The silence was a heavy blanket, suffocating you instantly as you shifted on your feet. Then, your mother stepped forward once.

"You already have one?" She said quietly, her tone bruising. You lost your voice in that moment, so you just nodded once.

"Who? And why wouldn't you tell me?" She snapped again, making that familiar irritation grow in your chest.

"... I... I met him at a café."

"And? Who is he? Does he have a well job—"

"He works at the café." You corrected her, your voice dimming slightly as her eyes widened. You thought her damn eyeballs would fall out of their sockets.

"Works at a café? Y/n, what were you thinking?" She exclaimed.

"I'm thinking that this is a nice guy. And I really like him," you began saying, your arms falling to your sides, meeting her gaze with truth.

Jungwon had managed to leave a permanent print on you, a print full of colours and sweetness, of vibrant fun to light up your world.

"And, I don't care that he works at a café. He treats me so well, and he might not have a degree like you want people to, but I don't care," you explained with sincerity.

Your mother nearly gasped, running a hand over her temple again with stiffness. "He doesn't have a degree? Are you even thinking of your future?"

"I am! He would treat me well in the future! I'm not a child! I know who he is," you exclaimed again, voice rising against her own condescension, her oncoming tide of a lecture. She narrowed her gaze.

"I... I can't believe it." She touched her forehead again as if you had inflicted a disease on her. You grit your teeth, deciding it was enough.

On absolute impulse, you stormed to your bag and snatched it before walking right past her. She scurried after you, eyes threaded with clamouring alarm.

Y/n—"

Completely ignoring her, you walked right out of the house whilst she trailed after you with countless protests.

But no more would she control you or dictate that part of your life. She can't dictate your heart and bend it to her will. Jungwon already had it, and it was his to cherish.

You practically jogged down the street and realised she stopped chasing but you were moving, and found yourself ordering a taxi and speeding away. There could only be one place that Jungwon could be that you could think of.

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The cate café was still lit up by the time you were there, and you wasted no time in entering and rushing into the space. As you put the slippers on, you slid open the door to find the flurry of cats wandering about.

The sight would have calmed you if Jungwon wasn't on your mind. Without batting an eye, you strolled up to the counter to see Jay working on the till, tapping something. When he saw you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you," he said with a slight smile. No doubt he's probably heard what happened between you and Jungwon, the pure selfishness you expressed.

Clearing your throat, you glanced up. "Is Jungwon here?"

Jay gave you a resigned look, shoulders slumping in a way that made your heart twist with dread.

"He asked me to cover for him." Jay sighed, something flashing through his gaze. You caught onto it, staring unmovingly until the desperation made you lean onto the counter.

"Do you know where he is. I need to talk to him." You blinked at Jay as he shifted in his place, eyes darting to and fro as if watching his thoughts run and crash into each other. "Please."

Jay glimpsed at your eager expression, and sighed. But, he nodded, which meant it worked.

"He's... he's at a boxing match," Jay finally said. Your heart leapt, too many thoughts rising. The guilt had released its poison again, making your eyes shut to recover.

A boxing match. With an audience, probably. You can't just wait for him. You were about to thank him when Jay interjected again.

"He has a match with this guy. This new, rich guy. It was a bet," he said, making the description describe Sunghoon perfectly from those brief words.

Then, the worry took its new place in your thoughts, floating thickly, chilling your body. He was fighting Sunghoon? No, no, no. Not that you minded Sunghoon getting beat up, but you don't want him to see Sunghoon and then have his insecurities jab at him again.

"You have to take me," you burst out again, holding the counter tightly. Jay hesitated before glancing at the clock. A few seconds later, he shrugged.

"Yeah, fuck it. Only an hour left of the shift," he muttered before flinging off his apron. "Help me close up."

With rushed actions, you helped Jay out with the cats, closing up the shop and then hopping into his car as he drove deeper into town. All the while, your hands twiddled over each other in your lap as you tried to think of what to say to Jungwon.

He was worth everythin —worth every lecture and look of disapproval. After all, this was your life, and, for once, you wanted to hold the pen and write down what you wanted.

The early evening sky approached over Seoul, light rekindling to the lamps on the roads and pavements. The closer you got to your destination, the more your urge grew to just jump out the car and run there yourself.

Jay would have joked about your state, but you seemed genuinely distressed and didn't comment on it as he steered into the next road.

Once parked, you and Jay got out, the darkness casting shadows over the narrow alleyway. Jay didn't stutter with directions as he led you down the path and back into the familiar alleyway.

You didn't question it, too eager to reach Jungwon and pour out your apologies for everything you had done.

Once reaching the dark doors, it was as if you were walking into a void from how absent the light was. Hesitating slightly, you pushed through it, the determination rising again.

When you walked forward a little too quickly, you bumped into Jay's back as he yelped.

"Sorry," you mumbled. He waved it off, even though you didn't see it, and helped you into the open light of the normal boxing ring, the slightly flickering lights, and the emptiness that surrounded it.

Just like before, you and him went down that dim corridor until reaching the thick metal door. Jay was the one to push it and let out the roar of cheers and encouragement.

The room was just the same as before, but this time, it was busier, it had more seats and tables filled with drinks and plastic cups, the shop-bought lights blaring brightly at the one platform that had two men fighting on it.

People clustered around the platform, cursing or cheering, a concoction of both that truly displayed the violence they were eager to bet on.

Jay led you in, and then turned his head a few times, but grew defeated. Leaning in close to you, he said, "I'll look for Jungwon in the locker room. You stay here in case you see him."

Agreeing to that plan, you let Jay go to be left alone with the crowd and your potential regret.

You were making a thousand different strategies to apologise, and even then, you couldn't even create a clear path of that. Everything was too disorderly.

You should have written a damn letter on why you were a terrible girlfriend.

When the cheers reached a peak, you glanced up to see one of the men, the black hair, blue jacket, and sharp nose. You nearly gawked as you saw Sunghoon triumphantly raise his arm in victory.

The host gestured for someone to drag the other dude off the platform, and the unease that surrounded Sunghoon was now too much to ignore. The smugness in his face was persistent as ever, soiling your memories and comfort towards him.

"The new guy has won two fights so far!" The host exclaimed, earning another nonchalant smirk from Sunghoon.

For some reason, this felt too horrid. As if Sunghoon's smile was purely because of the abrasive hits he had managed to get down, to almost build a ladder that his ego could climb and never come down from. It was purely a reach for dominance and internal power. It made you sick.

You gripped the pillar tighter, watching as Sunghoon scnneded the crowd before the host started grinning again.

"And so, for the next round, we have one of our best fighters attending! Let's see if our new guy can beat him. You know what they say—the third time is the lucky charm!" He exclaimed into the mic, and the crowd erupted again into ferocious cheers that forced your heart to pump faster.

You didn't like those words, the anticipation it had leaking into your veins like ice. As you watched closely, the host moved, and the people whistled and cheered again as a familiar blonde hopped onto the stage with big, white gloves.

When you saw the blonde locks, no doubt you knew it was Jungwon, and you were right. It was him, but there was a tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw and the burrowed eyebrows. Even his brown eyes held a black hole there instead of a million stars.

You don't know whether it's because your relationship had smashed to the ground, or if Sunghoon's face was a clear target that provoked him. Or both. It was rational in a way.

But the sight of him tugged on your heart. The sharp gaze made your heart flutter in the midst of all of this coldness. As if your silly heart still managed to find a way to be drawn to his warmth and grow alive again.

The urge to stop him and just kiss him right there was a good idea if only you didn't have social anxiety and if you had already talked to him. Which you didn't.

The host grinned again, sly. "A juicy bet, this one. Remember to put your money in! And then, the fight can commence!"

People shifted and manoeuvred, but all you could focus on was the heavy steps Jungwon did as he circled around, Sunghoon doing the same as they kept their distance. Arrogance was a badge that Sunghoon wore visibly, the smirk living on his lips whilst a frown prevailed on Jungwon's.

The crowd thickened again, and you didn't realise people joining and entering, but you knew there was no way of getting to the front unless you wanted to become the people's personal rug. You kept to the pillar, leaning on it.

"Okay! Is everyone ready for the next fight?"

The crowd basically yelled in response, some not even speaking, just screaming. The host laughed and then gestured something. Sunghoon and Jungwon came to the centre and bumped fists. Jungwon's jaw ticked even more.

The host grinned and moved back out of the ring before a sudden bell went off. You held your breath.

Sunghoon lunged first with a bold jab which Jungwon defended, lifting both arms vertically to display his veiny arms.

There you go again, staring at something irrelevant like a new teenager. As if he wasn't your boyfriend.

When Sunghoon rained down on the jabs at his defensive arms, Jungwon slid to the right and delivered a hook to pummel his ribs, and then delivering an uppercut to his jaw that sent the crowd in a blaze of excitement.

Sunghoon recoiled and recovered in an instant and backed away, circling from the attack. Jungwon, however, he was tracking him, following his footsteps, a sudden fire igniting within when he hunched his shoulders and got into stance again.

Sunghoon sneered and, once again, lunged with a ferocious uppercut to Jungwon's stomach, and he kept going at it.

You gasped, straightening as you saw Jungwon's face contort in pain, but he used that oppurtunity to rain down punches on Sunghoon's nape and shoulders, delivering three sharp ones before Sunghoon faltered and moved away.

There was a slight slither of satisfaction in your stiff body, and you stepped closer for a better look, the lights from above hitting your eyes.

This time, the crowd almost gave a collected groan and laugh, as if they were mocking Sunghoon. It seemed to egg him on as he straightened, glaring at Jungwon as he circled about again like two opposing lions in a battle.

You saw Sunghoon say something to Jungwon, something that made Jungwon's composure break as he suddenly charged forward.

The crowd gasped and roared in exhilaration as Jungwon jabbed at Sunghoon's torso, unhinged and unrestrained. Sunghoon brought his weight to his left, then swiftly to his right.

Jungwon wasn't ready for it and stumbled back harshly when Sunghoon delivered a hook to his back and a jab to his side.

Your breath hitched, eyes trained on a retreating Jungwon, taking his eyes off Sunghoon to the crowd, towards you.

When your gazes met, electricity shot through you, making you straighten your posture. You wanted to tell him so much, but he was the first to look away when Sunghoon slowly approached again.

The brief eye contact left you hollow, empty, and your shoulders deflated slightly.

Jungwon watched closely, a newfound thought clouding his eyes when Sunghoon smirked again, fists close to his face.

The crowd was too loud, his body stiff and tired, and his mind burned in exasperation. Jungwon grit his teeth and let Sunghoon shift from foot to foot, getting closer.

When he was close enough, Jungwon stepped on his right and pivoted, ultimately turning his back onto him first, but his elbow collided with Sunghoon's side.

He grumbled, but Jungwon didn't let him recover from the stumble as he let furious punches spitfire at Sunghoon, right at his ribs and side.

He didn't know if he breathed, he didn't know if pain tinged at his knuckles and shoulders, he just hailed down on the hits until Sunghoon stumbled back, tripping over his own feet.

Even with Sunghoon on the ground with his arms vertically up before his face, Jungwon took the chance to stand atop him, aiming the damn punches at Sunghoon's stomach.

Sunghoon groaned in pain, squirming away, and even attempted a shot at getting back at Jungwon, but he only took the oppurtunity to deliver a sharp hook to his jaw.

The people around the platform practically broke into another roar, supporting Jungwon's newfound violence. For some reason, he kept punching, practically raining punched on Sunghoon's face until his hands weakly rested atop his head and when the bell went off.

Sunghoon was on the ground for too long, and the crowd all jeered and yelled in dispute or celebration.

Jungwon stood, not bothering to help Sunghoon up as he glanced up and saw you again, your eyes wide, desperate and sparkling like it always did. The adrenaline kept his thoughts running, so he turned away and got off the platform.

That made you walk. He can't leave you there. Your chest was too tight and holding too much to just suppress back into your head and bury away.

Remembering that locker room again, you retraced your steps as you walked around the crowd, rushing into the familiar grey hallway, pushing past the doors.

You saw the way he best Sunghoon. As if he was reassuring himself of something, something to prove. But he shouldn't need to prove anything to anyone, especially not to you.

You let your own fear control your love life, play you like a helpless puppet, and ultimately drain Jungwon of the love he deserved.

Once approaching the familiar locker doors, you flinched when Jay was the one to open it, eyes almost holding an epiphany.

"Jay..." you said breathlessly. He rubbed the back of his head.

"He came in here just now. In the shower," he said, stepping out into the hallway before you. Normally, the thought of him showering would be too intimate, but you were more eager to fix the cracks in the very trust you had broken

"Thank you, Jay."

You didn't wait for a response before bursting into the room, the small locker room empty except the shower running in the adjacent room. You bit your lip, fighting yourself on waiting for him or to talk to him from behind the curtain.

Your thoughts were splintering, about to burst past the dam that held you back. The surge of impatience was hard to suppress, and you entered the shower area with hope that it was only Jungwon occuyping the stall.

To your luck, you only heard one, and a single curtain was drawn at the utmost end of the bathroom.

"Jungwon?" You called out, your voice slightly held back, testing the waters. The shower turned off, and you heard movement, but nothing that was his voice.

Taking it as a cue to move forward, you inched closer to his curtain, fingers twiddling, the worry and burden of your own thoughts anchoring at your feet, like rusted shackles.

"Won. I... you don't need to talk because... you don't need to argue. I'm here to apologise. I was an idiot," you began saying, the lump in your throat forging through like steel.

"You know that, but... I don't want to lose you. And... I got so mad. I shouldn't have. I should have listened to you, but I got angry because... I didn't want to accept that you were right." You shakily breathed, head dipped as tears welled at your eyes.

You felt pathetic, but you wanted to push through it because he wasn't to blame.

"I... I am scared of my parents, and that just made it easier for them to control. I should have... I should have told you about Sunghoon, and I should have told them earlier about you. Because, Jungwon, you are so good for me. You're literally... the best thing I have ever had, believe it or n-not," you said with a slightly breathless and sad chuckle.

You sniffled, tears running down your cheeks silently, the vulnerability seeping through with every streak of tears.

"I can't... buy this anywhere else. You're seriously... a r-rare kind. You're not something I could ever buy. You're just... a miracle. I shouldn't have kept you a secret."

You let out another quivering breath, the silence threatening your composure even more as you wiped your eyes.

"You don't need to f-forgive me, even if I have told my mother about you. I just want you to know that you helped me at least take the first step," you said more quietly, not realising the quiet figure that stepped out from behind the curtain.

You kept going, the dam now freely flowing, streams of thoughts rushing out. "And... I love you, you know? You seriously... have given me so much. And, I didn't even try the same for you."

A hand cupped your jaw, lifted your face as your breath hitched in alarm. There he was, the anger distant now, with something softer and understanding. Guilt. Which you didn't understand. He was wearing a white t-shirt, black slacks, and he looked fresh.

The bruise on his jaw formed, but he didn't care as he stepped closer, both thumbs stroking your cheeks, wiping the tears away. You didn't deserve this much sincerity.

"Stop... stop apologising," he said softly, not being able to endure anymore tears blinding the sparkle in your eyes.

You weren't having it, though, your arms encircling his waist, face digging into his chest with more tears running down your cheeks. You don't even know why he's apologising when you were the one that created the hurdle.

He sighed, his arms tightly locking around your body, a cheek pressed to your forehead as if it was the only way he could connect any deeper with you.

"I don't like seeing you cry," he whispered, his own voice trembling. When you heard the quiver, your eyes lifted to see the remorse etched into his face, the frown anchoring his lips. "You don't need to apologise."

"But, I do. This... this all happened because of me. And I was totally out of line. And—"

Jungwon placed a finger on your parted lips, silencing your breathless self. He managed a small smile, but it wasn't completely weaved with joy. Just slight endearment and apprehension.

"To make you feel better, I forgive you, Y/n." He touched your tearful cheek, wiping away the guilt staining your skin. He didn't want to have you feel all that burden.

Confusion sparkled again in those gaze of yours.

"I forgive you. Even if... that comment did hurt, I know it wasn't... from a bad place. I know you have expectations to meet, but I also knew you were holding yourself back." Jungwon held your shoulders now, melting away the iceberg that froze in the center of your chest. "Do you know how much that hurts me? Seeing you have to hide something you love?"

You knew all too well how hard it was to even talk against your parents. The loyalty was a noose around your neck, and you had no courage to pull it apart.

He lifted your chin again when you glanced down, firm, wanting your utmost attention. "You shouldn't even have to feel scared. They shouldn't have that power over you. I just wanted to help you."

"I know... I'm so sorry, Won," you mumbled tearfully, and he smiled in sympathy again, shaking his head in feigned disappointment.

"What did I say about apologising?" He said softly, his tone dry of any type of command. Even then, you wiped your eyes, seeing his features even more now.

"I should have told you," You said again, voice hoarse as you wiped away your tears with your sleeves. He nodded, agreeing with you but the blame dimmed within you. It was just him and understanding.

One of the things you absolutely adored about him. Even after all of this, he still held the highest standards of care, making sure it was the most significant thing he needed to consider.

He held your shoulders, lips pursing and releasing a sigh through his nose. "I just don't want you hiding."

After all of this, he still spoke to you with softness, mellow demands and pleas. It took you everything not to apologise again.

"I know. I realise it now. You are right. And, I don't want to lose you," you said, gazing up at him again, the warmth of his hands grounding you.

"Me either. I could have... reacted better. I'm sorry for that," he said, thumbs rubbing the edges of your collarbone through your shirt.

You held his wrists, smiling after a while actually. "N-no. You didn't deserve my selfishness."

"You give yourself too much credit." He chuckled lowly again, shaking his head as your hands splayed at his warm chest.

"I think I deserve it. I caused the problem and tried to fix it. I... I told my mother. Let's just see how she takes it," you replied, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, giving him the opportunity to slide his hands to your waist, hugging you once more.

The thought of having to go back, face your mother and her possible lectures unsettled your stomach and appetite. You sighed as he slightly swayed you and him, chin resting softly atop your locks.

"I don't want to go back home," you whispered, sighing. He tightened his grip, stilling, and you noticed it, glancing up. Something was brewing in his eyes, dark, eager.

"Stay with me then." He retorted, voice slightly lower, practically sending your nerves to shudder from the spine down.

His eyes were cloudy, losing touch of reality and its problems. He pulled you closer, your torso bumping into him as your breath hitched.

"Well?" Jungwon murmured when you stayed silent. This was different, exhilarating, and stronger than any kind of pull you had experienced. And your heart thrummed, singing a different song and making you nod.

"Of course."

As soon as you said that, he pushed you back into the shower cubicle, your shoes tapping swiftly on the ground as you gasped. He pressed your back into the damp wall, but you didn't give a care when he crashed his lips to yours, moving desperately and trying to prove something different.

Love, perhaps.

"Mm, I missed you," he murmured against your lips, hooking his hands around you, one at your lower back and another to cup your head. Your eyes were shut, hands clutching his shirt and kissing him.

There were no words needed. The pull you ached for was clearly displayed when you bit his lower lips, now gripping his nape. He groaned loudly, not giving a care on whether anyone would walk in and hear.

The air was heavy, suffocating you in his embrace, but you craved more. You craved the anchoring love of his, the type to keep you rooted to him, even if it consumed your organs and thoughts like water.

Jungwon didn't stop, lips departing only to pepper deep and eager kisses down your jaw, all the way to your ear. Your breath hitched, but he held you tighter, hands skimming down your back until the hem.

As if testing the waters, he deftly untucked your shirt, and you sighed loudly again. You could almost feel his smirk on your skin, travelling down your ear and the side of your throat.

Taking it as a sign, Jungwon's hands dived beneath the fabric, roaming up your bare skin. You hummed again, and he pressed more insistent kisses into your skin, daring to suck.

You groaned breathlessly, your eyes fluttering shut as he pressed you flush to him, his built torso molding against your soft ones.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he groaned against your neck, nipping at the skin, making your breath hitch more, chest heaving against his. You held onto him tighter, feeling his hands running up your bare back, dancing across your spine in a perfected plan until he reached the clasp of your bra.

That alone sent a thousand ripples to shake your composure, a reminder of how he could take you apart and how you would plead for more of that type of destruction.

With his kisses heavy on your throat, you groaned breathily again, arching your body to curve perfectly to his. Jungwon knew his constructed calmness was about to crumble into an avalanche and reduce him to rubble at your feet.

He didn't open it opting to squeeze your sides and kiss your lips again, tongue tracing carefully. There was no patience remaining there and, if there was, it would have been consumed by the heat in your belly.

The slight dim lighting made it better, and you couldn't suppress the slight whimper as he pressed his hips firmly to yours to test your limits.

Jungwon smirked against your lips, departing for a second, and his one hand snaked to your chin, tilting your dazed gaze to his. Your hands stayed on his shoulders, your skin tingling with delight.

Jungwon's own gaze was swarmed with something, more cloudy, stormy with an urge that he couldn't hold back from.

"I could keep you like this all day. And, you would let me, wouldn't you?" He murmured, his teasing words striking you with heat. You fluttered your eyes at him, tilting your head as his warmth ran through you.

"We both know the answer to that," you replied. Jungwon smiled wickedly again.

"You act as if that's something annoying you." He chuckled, lowering his lips to your neck again and completely shattering the weak composure. He kissed, hands returning to your bare back, down to your hip and forcing you closer to him.

"Well, a shower room is not the place I imagined this to be happening," you remarked with a voice failing to hold together. He laughed lowly again, his smugness running through your collarbone. You held his nape again, and he squeezed your hip.

"We can wait. I don't want to rush you," he said, still managing to ask. You know it's the bare minimum, but you felt lucky whenever he did.

"I want you. So much." Your eyes met his when he lifted his head, eyes heavy with wisps of desire.

"I want you, too. Clearly," he said, accentuating his hips to yours, making it obvious. Your throat ran dry, suddenly aware of how far you were going, and that you weren't willing to retract.

"So much for waiting. Your body doesn't want it," you said, teasing him despite the way his own self elicited something heavier to flutter and consume your heart. He scoffed, still close enough for you to be molded to him.

"I know. I should really learn to hold back. Maybe you can ease it?" He said, raising an eyebrow as if his innuendo went unseen. Rolling your eyes, you pushed his shoulder slightly.

"Why do you need me to help your situation. Use your brain," you said with a chuckle when he had that familiar infuriated, yet amused, expression.

"You're killing me here," he murmured lowly again, lips and inch from yours, his threats doing nothing to lower your smile. "Gee, I wish I could just control my hormones, you know?"

"A real man knows how to," you teased again, being dramatic and exaggerative.

"Well, I guess I'm not real then. Just a figment of your amazing imagination. It's all in your head," he replied, contemplative as he firmly pressed his hips again. Your breath stuttered.

Even then, you didn't let the banter go unanswered. You locked your arms around his neck, staring up at him.

"My crazy imagination is making me see a crazy man. I think I'm having a weird dream thing right now." You grinned, eyes flickering to his lips. "I don't want to wake up."

At your sweet words, even if tied to a joke, softened his cloudy eyes, replacing it with the urge to kiss your forehead. His lips were soft, lingering on your skin and he let himself caress your cheek, as if you were the most luckiest thing that could enter his life.

"I love you." He breathed in the scent of your hair. Your eyes fluttered shut as you hugged him, grateful for it all. Grateful that you could be understood, forgiven after your selfish acts.

"Love you, too."

Just as he went in for another kiss, the curtain flung open behind him, making you and him jump. Standing there was Jay, his eyes scanning the scene, the hands around your waist, the fact that you were nestled in a shower stall.

Grimacing heavily, Jay rubbed his temples. "Seriously?"

"You didn't need to pull back the curtain, by the way," Jungwon said with a smirk, finally distancing himself from you slightly.

"And let you two continue God knows what in here?" Jay inquired, shooting daggers more at Jungwon than you. Warmth ignited your cheeks at being caught by Jay for the nth time.

"This is a public space."

"And yet you pulled back the curtain of someone's shower stall," Jungwon remarked sharply. Jay just waved it off, as if that wasn't the point. Jungwon grinned.

"You know, I'm right."

"No, you're not! I expected you to make up, not make out," Jay said with a huff, even though half of that was true.

"I would ask what movies you watch, but clearly you haven't watched a movie about fighting couples," Jungwon said with a wicked grin. Jay ran a hand through his hair, disgust sweeping over his eyes.

"Jungwon?"

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck out." Jay sighed, and then glimpsed at your figure curled behind Jungwon, gaze slightly mellowing around the edges. "Not you, though, Y/n. Respectfully, leave."

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"STOP BEING SO NERVOUS."

Jungwon huffed, brushing a hand through his newly cut blonde hair, only for it to flop back into place again. He frowned as you held his wrist.

"Stop, Won. You don't need to be doing that. And, I think wearing formal is enough," you said before dragging your eyes down his body clad in a black shirt, trousers and his pine green jacket.

He was being overly ridiculous, letting the doubts of meeting your parents get ahold of him.

After you had told your parents of Jungwon, they seemed reluctant, but ultimately, they had never seen your eyes sparkling with so much sincerity when you had talked about him. They knew that the care ran deep, too much to just forget about.

That's how you found yourself walking with Jungwon to your home, happily holding his hand and even squeezing it reassuringly. A subtle grip of his hand returned, and he let out another releasing breath.

"You're sure they won't hate the blonde?"

"No?"

"And, I'm not even wearing a tie."

"My father doesn't even wear one. He gets lazy sometimes and wears a clip-on," you said again, giving him that sweet smile of yours. Jungwon's frown remained, bottom lip jutting out as much as his anxiety acting like a sore thumb.

In all honesty, you know your parents will have questions, but that's the point of a relationship—to fight for it, to avoid any possible hurdles and untangle them together.

You wished you had done so earlier.

Jungwon nearly gawked as he stared at your home, the silver gates twice his size enough for him to know you weren't just an ordinary girl.

Of course, you were different, but damn, your home called him broke in five different ways.

"Okay, you ready? We can always cancel if you have any problems," you said, turning to him. Jungwon found it too adorable as your eyes sparkled up at him.

But, there was no point holding it off into the future. Otherwise, he would never get there. Holding your hand a little tighter, he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"Yeah. Let's go. They're probably waiting."

Jungwon wanted to curl up and shrivel on the spot when he met your parents.

The reason?

He meant to give a handshake and found his hand curled into a fist as if he was dabbing up Jay.

The internal embarrassment hit him like bullets, making his smile tight and his cheeks flush slightly. He knew you were laughing to yourself at the side but decided against glaring at you.

Anything to hear your happiness.

Even then, his parents scrutinised, as if they had a built-in system to recognise his sincerity, and then, they nodded and gave a small smile.

"Welcome, Jungwon." Your mother said, those eyes mellowing as she lead everyone into the dining room. Taking it as a good sign, you held his arm, then slid your fingers to his, interlacing them, as if you had finally reached something you had been looking for in the dark.

All at once, those intricate webs of doubt broke so easily. It almost felt like dust.

After having some tea, Jungwon finally breathed when he went up to your room, eyes taking in the cream tones, the colours that were taken from your personality and embedded in the bedsheets, jewellery and stickers around the room and vanity.

You spun in the room, presenting your room with a small smile. "Welcome! Where do you want to explore first?"

"This room could take two business days to explore," Jungwon mused with a smirk, staring at the big perimeter that was your room.

"Does that mean you can stay over then?" You remarked, mischief glittering in the sky that were your eyes. Jungwon grinned, sauntering over to hold your hips.

"I mean, I don't want to just crash over here," he said, leaning down with voice clouded with intensity, slowly fogging your head as well. He squeezed your hips, maneuvering you back, and back until you sat on the bed before him. You raised an eyebrow.

"You're already manhandling me. Haven't we gotten past that stage?" You joked, crossing your arms. He rolled his eyes, smirk remaining like a stain he couldn't remove.

"Well, if you say we've exceeded boundaries..." He bent down over you, forcing you to slightly lay down on your forearms. "Can we explore here first?"

The heat exploded in your cheeks, refusing the ability to act indifferent here. Ugh, he always managed to crumble your composure so effortlessly.

"You're a freak," you said, giggling as your hand swatted at his chest. Jungwon shrugged, eyes wandering down your body before capturing your gaze.

"It's not like you don't like it," Jungwon said, tilting his head, continuing to inch closer as your breath hitched.

"I don't, so."

"We were kissing in a male public shower stall. I think you are just as much a freak as I am," he said with a chuckle, low, and made your stomach flutter. Even then, your stubbornness struck your next words.

"That's different. I was trying to make it up to you. Technically, you got me into the shower stall." You laughed as he suddenly hovered over you, a knee coming between yours as your back met the bed.

The mischief never faded, though, along with your grin that he loved a bit too much. He stared as if calculating and then leaned down again.

"You have a bit of a smart mouth on you," he murmured with his deep voice, lips a few seconds apart, eyes mesmerising you.

"So, I've been told," you replied back just as smoothly, eyes never leaving his alone, glittering with something genuine and true. He smiled again, a little softer this time.

"Yeah, well, can it kiss me then? I've been waiting all day," he said, hips pressed against yours now, his arm maneuvering your leg to hitch about his waist.

The action alone bloomed heat in your cheeks, and wildflowers that sprouted and rooted into your body with love. You cupped his jaw and brought his lips down to yours.

Accepting the invitation, Jungwon moved his lips softly against yours, savouring his time and your lips. Like a secret and silent conversation he never wanted to leave alone.

You wrapped your arms around his nape and he slid his hand to your waist, pressing in the comfort, the trust he had for you, almost as if he was molding it into your bones.

He departed and braced himself above you, tilting his head to stare down at you.

"You're perfect, you know?" He breathed, as if he didn't look like a fairytale himself.

"And have you seen yourself?" You remarked with a laugh. He rolled his eyes with no hint of aggression and gazed at you, as if he was analysing something.

Or, more like his gaze melted into you, softening and ultimately leaving him mellow and serene.

"I love you, you know?" He said again. Those words—you could never get tired of them. Every time he did say it, the world lit up again, and it was only you two in this world, gravitating towards each other.

Your breath hitched, your grin dying down into something more honest and tender. At the end of the day, you would rather not be with anyone else but Jungwon.

His sincerity was unmatched to anyone else you ever met. You may be biased in that finding, but with him, it was certain that the bond bridged between was sculpted with trust, care, and love. All of it needs attention to stay indestructible. Heck, you may have stayed as a puppet if it wasn't for him.

You didn't want to lose him at all.

"I love you, too... my freaky man."

"Oh, shut up." He grinned, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, his breath caressing you. It was cruel, but you laughed with him.

Sometimes, you think about it even later—why you kept something like him a secret. It was fear and insecurity that had clashed in your brain, eradicating all the logic you usually had.

And, for what? Validation? The type of validation that you would never reach because your parents stretched it to the ends of the Earth?

Even you have limits. You had let yourself believe that there wasn't when it came to pleasing your parents. In result, you had buried and crushed your desires in order for theirs to take their place. Though, because of that, failure came easier to recognise rather than the current success you had in your hands.

From there, you learned that you wouldn't keep your desires a secret.

Besides, your parents didn't even kill you anyways when you said you were dating Jungwon. So, it's a win.

Even years later, the remnants of guilt sometimes floated up again. Keeping Jungwon a secret didn't bring you comfort in the slightest; it only brought burden and doubts to you both. Keeping him in the dark meant he hadn't deserved to be brought to the light.

But Jungwon deserved everything.

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ[NOTES]: omg! Hi! If you made it this far? Wow. You all are amazing 😭. I'm sorry this was so long, but i hope you enjoyed <3

Thank you <3

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