my name is destiny, 21 yrs and always bored asf as fuck
facts about me
bd: may 24th, 2005
ult bias: ꒰ঌ kang taehyun ໒꒱ ♡
carrd
animes:account was originally for anime but it became more kpop soo
!! chainsaw man , attack on titan !! boku no hero academia, demon slayer , jujutsu kaisen , death note , hunter x hunter, dandadan
groups
tomorrow x together, enhypen, straykids, p1harmony, kickflip, cortis, shinee, lngshot, newjeans, illit, le sserafim, sm more omg
just a reader as of now but i would love to write my own stories someday <3
more info
if your looking to interact, i am pretty shy tbh i will absolutely always like and reblog your posts, tag me in your fics! ill be your biggest supporter!
i just can't decide — which road is leading me to hell or paradise?
🦡★. ݁˖ SUMMARY :: your overly possessive boyfriend makes an agreement with his best friend in order to try to control himself and his jealousy issues — his best friend has to flirt with you, and if you fall for it, you'll earn something that you will remember for the rest of your life. This prize for your boyfriend is supposed to be a punishment, however he can't help himself but realize he likes it too...
🦡★. ݁˖ TAGS :: possessive jake, jealous jake, oral sex, cuckolding, threesome, queer themes, internalized homophobia, m x m content, fingering, nipple play, doggy style, hidden feelings, mentioned sunoo and jungwon, toxic jake, unhealthy relationship, possessive relationship, cheating (idk?), loads of dirty talk, breast fucking, masturbation, dom!sunghoon, sub!jake, verbal humiliation, homoerotic friendship, handcuffs, slight bdsm, sunghoon is a freaking braaaaat in this, sassy!sunghoon, unprotected p in v, rough sex, fingers in mouth
🦡★. ݁˖ GENRE :: smut with plot
🦡★. ݁˖ PAIRING :: boyfriend!jake x reader x boyfriend's!best friend!sunghoon
🦡★. ݁˖ WC :: 11k
🦡★. ݁˖ NOW PLAYING 💿 jealous type | doja cat
A/N :: i cant even put into words how much i HATE the first part, but pls dont let it scare you away because the rest is good💔 this is a very old draft haha thought id post something while im working on my longer fics (SURPRISE SURPRISE!!!)
Jake has always been a jealous type since you’ve known him. Ever since you and him got together three years ago, he got envious of the tiniest things. Even seeing you ask for directions in an amusement park from another male made his blood boil with anger.
You told him it was kind of upsetting you, and he has tried to control it ever since. But it's just so hard, when in his eyes you are the most beautiful and precious thing ever.
So, instead of trying to control it, he buried the thoughts deep down in his mind. He just hid it that he felt jealous every time you had to go out, possibly meeting someone you know and seeing you smile while talking to someone else.
“She told you she's with her friends” Sunghoon’s voice rasps through the phone’s speaker.
Jake walks around in the living room, almost nervously as he bites down his nails. It is a Thursday night, and you are out with your friends working on a uni project.
He wanted to trust you and not act childish, so he let you go without saying anything, not even a sneaky comment about how you could’ve just invited your friends over to do the project in your shared apartment.
But here he is, on the phone with his best friend who tries to reassure him as much as he can. Sunghoon finds it funny how Jake gets upset at the smallest things ever. It surprises him a little bit, because before he got with you, he was never like this.
“What if one of her friends wants to get with her?” He questions, earning a sigh from the other side of the phone.
“Man, you are seriously something else since you guys are together” Sunghoon says, having the audacity to laugh.
Jake stops circling around in the living room and looks out of the window, biting his lower lip down. “Are you saying that if you had a girlfriend you wouldn't be—”
“Straight up possessive?” Sunghoon interrupts “No”
“I'm not possessive” Jake projects, clenching his teeth together tightly. “I'm just worried”
Another sigh from the other side of the phone, and Jake is seriously beginning to debate if he should just simply put the phone down and, maybe, maybe… go after you. He knows where you meet your friends all the time, it's always the same bar on the corner of the street.
“Alright” Sunghoon says after a few moments of silence. Jake thinks this is finally the time when he says ‘don’t be a loser’ or something like that, and puts the phone down. “I'm coming over”
Jake’s eyes widens suddenly hearing the words from his friend, and he opens his mouth to say something back, to deny it, but he already hears the small ‘beep’ that indicates the end of the phone call.
-
Jake lays on his couch, not feeling like moving a singular muscle when he hears a key in the door. He glances over at it, just to see Sunghoon stepping in. He doesn't even know since when Sunghoon has a key to your apartment, but he doesn't really care at this point. This man has invalidated his private space a long time ago, and he doesn't bother to leave any time soon.
Sunghoon laughs when he sees his best friend laying on the couch unbothered, having his eyes on the tv but not really watching it.
“Jeez, you look faded, man,” Sunghoon comments, putting his leather jacket on one of the kitchen’s chairs.
“I'm not faded” Jake mumbles back, sitting up weakly.
Sunghoon hops down next to him on the couch, slightly pushing his arm to move away. “You are overreacting” he states.
“Thanks, that's really reassuring!”
Sunghoon runs a hand through his dark locks, putting both of his legs on the couch “I’m serious. Have you ever looked in the mirror? Why would she want anyone else when you— nevermind” he trails off mid sentence, turning his head away to look at the glowing tv screen, the light hitting his face making his soft features stand out more.
Jake frowns his brows in slight confusion. Why did Sunghoon get shy all of a sudden? He looks stressed, which isn't an usual thing to see on his face. Not when he was about to compliment his best friend; it was a casual compliment and nothing else.
“What?” Jake lets out a small chuckle, gaze staying on his best friend “when I what?”
“You look good, Jake. You don't have to worry about her cheating on you” Sunghoon barks finally, eyes still avoiding Jake at all cost. He wanted to say handsome, he wanted to say more, but he decided it was for the better to keep his mouth shut. Jake doesn't have to hear all his thoughts about him.
Jake chuckles again, but this time it's different. It sounds like he's satisfied with the compliment. “Thanks” he smiles to himself. “But that doesn't really help. My mind just can't stop”
Sunghoon ducks his head back and looks at the ceiling, he’s starting to get fed up by hearing the same thing over and over again all the time. Then, just as if a light bulb lit up in his mind, he straightens his back “I have an idea”
Jake looks up at him, cocking a brow curiously. “What is it?”
“I can prove to you that she only wants you. I can test her”
Jake grimaces “You want to flirt with my girlfriend?”
Sunghoon runs his hand down on his face, gesturing with his hands while he explains. Sure, if you word it like Jake, the idea doesn't sound so good… “No, no. I mean, kinda, but she won't fall for it. Trust me. I can flirt with her and everything, and I will tell you everything she tells me. So you will know everything about our interactions.”
Jake curls up in a ball at the end of the sofa, pulling his knees up to his chest and biting down his nails as he thinks through the idea. It seemed very bad at first, but now that he thinks about it maybe it isn't that bad. Sunghoon flirts with you, just like a stranger would. But he can tell him about all of your interactions, how you react to each of his words. Yes, you know that Sunghoon is Jake’s best friend, but it isn't a problem since you guys never actually talked that much, just rushed greetings and goodbyes.
This is all what Jake wants. This is all he has been wanting ever since you two got together. Ever since he kissed you for the first time, ever since he tasted you for the first time. Knowing how you react when you talk with someone else and he's not there.
“So, what do you think?” Sunghoon asks, snapping Jake out of his cloudy thoughts.
“And what if she does cheat on me?” Jake assumes.
“She won—”
“No, I’m serious. I'm not overreacting, or whatever. What if she really does?” His tone is serious, meaning every word he says.
Sunghoon bites down his lip, seriously thinking. “Well, then we fuck” he shrugs.
“What the fuck? And what do I gain from that?” Jake exclaims, throwing a pillow at the dark-haired boy.
“I don't know, man. You can— like— watch?” He says the last part of the sentence like it's the most forbidden thing to say, like it's a slur, quietly. But he still says it, and Jake heard it very well.
“Watch? Are you serious?” He asks, knitting his brows together “You want me to watch how you fuck my girlfriend?” he lets out a nervous giggle, ignoring the shivers that run down his spine at the idea.
Sunghoon throws the pillow back, and Jake catches it smoothly. “Okay, look, I know it sounds bad— like— very bad.” he starts, and licks his lips. Jake looks at him with brows knitted together, eyes as big as ever. Sunghoon looks away from his heavy gaze for a moment. “But, if you think about it… You have to work on your skills. You have to control yourself, to not get jealous.”
“Come on, my jealousy is not that bad”
“You called me to talk about how much it irritates you that your girlfriend went out with her friends to do a project for school” Sunghoon says, in a tone that makes Jake look childish and dumb.
“Well, yes—”
“The call lasted for two hours. You said it yourself. Your mind can't stop making up shit”
Jake bites down his lip until it bleeds, looking Sunghoon up and down for a flash of moment, trying to take in what he's saying exactly. It's not that bad. You would never actually cheat on him, right? You wouldn't fall for his best friend.
“Okay”
“What? Really?” Sunghoon asks, surprised at the sudden mind changing. He would never have thought that Jake would let him even try to flirt with you, but letting him fuck you was the bigger thing that made his heart skip a beat. If things go well, obviously. The fact that he would watch it is just cherry on top.
“Yes” Jake lets out a huff and stands up, walking to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. After this conversation he will need something way stronger than water tonight.
Sunghoon follows him, still being flabbergasted by Jake's words. “I can't believe you actually said yes”
Jake turns away from the sink, facing the overly happy Sunghoon “Go home before I change my mind”
-
A few days, maybe two weeks have passed since the agreement with Sunghoon, and Jake would lie if he would say he was able to stop thinking about it. When you got home, he welcomed you with kisses and hugs, and you could practically not scrape him off of you until you went to sleep.
He even milked information out of you, making you tell him every single detail about your night. Honestly, it wasn't big of a deal. Meeting your friends for project work never was. You tried to tell Jake about the details of the biological research you guys did, but he didn't care about that. Obviously.
All the things Sunghoon said kept him up at night. What the bigger trouble was is that he didn't only imagine him flirting with you and felt jealous. That wasn't the case at all. The thing is that he didn't feel even a grain of jealousy as he imagined you with him.
His mind kept going back to Sunghoon sitting on the couch in a black sleeveless top and black sweatpants, practically begging him to let him flirt with you. He couldn't help, but he had to admit that he found it a little bit hot. Imagining that Sunghoon, his best friend, getting intimate with you, his girlfriend, was even hotter.
He'd been thinking about Sunghoon so much in the past few days that he had to realize that he found his best friend attractive. Was he okay with that? Jake didn't know. Because even though he found Sunghoon visually appealing, and the thought of him pounding into you made him hard, he still had you. His girlfriend.
The girlfriend he protected at all cost, the girlfriend he jerked off to on the nights you were out with your friends, working on whatever biology project you had. The girlfriend he loved and admired with his full heart.
Besides, who said he can’t find two people attractive at the same time? He isn't in love with Sunghoon, his best friend since high school. He is still in love with you.
And jerking off to two people in the shower while you were away was even more exciting. It felt a little forbidden, dangerous.
It was always the same scenario that had popped up in his mind; Sunghoon fucking deep into you while your moans are echoing in the room. He sits on a chair, watching and touching himself.
This fantasy in his mind made him come so hard he didn't even know he was able to be all alone, without you. So he let himself keep going. And he didn't tell you, he was way too worried that you would break up with him.
The small plus that Sunghoon planted the idea into his mind in the first place made it at least three times better, because he kept remembering that this was an agreement at the end of the day. It might happen in real life too.
You were surprised when Jake let you go for the night easily, even though you never mentioned you are working on the project with your friends or anything like that. You had no idea about the fact that when you were not home, he was playing with himself while thinking of you and his best friend. Sometimes together, sometimes not.
The truth is that you started to feel like the atmosphere was suffocating. Sure, in the past week you were working on the school project with Sunoo and Jungwon (your friends), but school made you so depressed at the same time.
Coming home after a long day on campus and having your boyfriend kissing every inch of skin on your body was good, sometimes. However there were times when all you wanted to do is sleep without feeling any worry of school or anything. You felt like you were missing out on that.
“Really?” Sunoo’s voice drops, looking at you like you just told him that you are pregnant.
“I'm serious. Not even a ‘the project again?’, he just said yes” you shrug as you explain, pulling your glass of cocktail closer to take a sip from the straw.
Jungwon chuckles “That's not your boyfriend, y/n. Somebody stole him and cloned him, I’m telling you”
The conversation by the bar counter is interrupted by the overly hot bartender who has been looking at you all night, practically eye fucking but who cares about the details. He steps closer when he sees Sunoo's glass being empty and gives you a soft smile. “Another one of those?” he asks, and Sunoo nods.
You watch as he works on the drink, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up perfectly on his arms, just so his forearms are flexing with every move.
He tosses the glass to Sunoo on the black marble counter when he's done and walks away back to his colleagues.
“Girl” Jungwon slaps your arm playfully “I know Jake is still your boyfriend even though he acts suspiciously careless but that was crazy”
You laugh, eyes flickering between him and Sunoo “What was crazy?”
“Eye fucking with the bartender on a random friday night” Jungwon adds “Now that's something”
“I mean, If you were single or if he wasn't hot I would say it's nothing” Sunoo says, chugging down the rest of his own drink “But Park Sunghoon is something”
You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear at the mention of the name, your eyes finding Sunghoon in the corner again, his eyes still glued to you although he's chatting with one of the other bartenders.
“He’s the hottest boy on campus” Sunoo looks at him too, shaking his head.
This whatever thing between you and Sunghoon started around two weeks ago. You already knew him - somewhat - because he's your boyfriend's best friend, but you never had a conversation with him. That changed two weeks ago, when he randomly came up to you after class. He asked if you needed a ride home, and he was just so bubbly and kind that you had to say yes. After that, he might’ve taken that as a sign that you wanted to get closer to him, because he kept inviting you to the bar where he worked after school, he kept offering you rides home which you gladly accepted, and he kept saying you should go to the library together sometime.
You weren't exactly against getting closer with him. Sure, you had Jake, and Sunghoon was his best friend but all this time Sunghoon’s sudden change of behavior just suggested that he wanted to be friends with you. He knew you were Jake's girlfriend.
Talking with him felt different than talking with Jake. It's not that you weren't absolutely obsessed with Jake, being with that man felt like winning the lottery, but Sunghoon was approaching you with kindness. He cared about your day while he drove you home, at least he pretended to care about it. Sometimes he even asked back about your biology project you’ve been working on with Sunoo and Jungwon, and you often caught him smiling at you while you talked about the interesting — for you, for someone it could be boring — facts about fishes and their behavior.
In the past few days you might have realized that Sunghoon made you feel in some kind of way. Something scarily close to how Jake made you feel. However, it didn't make you question your feelings for Jake. It made you confused, but you decided to ignore that and enjoy both of their presence at the times when you were with them.
“Whatever.” You shake your head, turning it away from Sunghoon and fixing it on your glass instead “I would never leave Jake. Besides, Sunghoon is only my friend.”
Sunoo sighs, running a hand through his blond hair “I don't want to say anything that would mess up your mind, but Sunghoon definitely wants you too”
-
Your fingers are tangled in Jake’s black locks, pushing him closer to your dripping folds as he devours you. You are laying on your bed, you just got back from a long school day. He told you he couldn't wait for you to get home, and as soon as you stepped inside, he kissed you like he never did before.
When he made you lay down on the edge of the bed and spread your legs, you noticed he was already hard but you didn't question it.
This time, you let your thoughts leave your mind, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.
He let out a gasp, his breath caressing your exposed core so heavenly. He backs up a little and looks up at you. You don't look at him, you keep your eyes on the ceiling, one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets next to you.
He swallows and gets back to work, carefully tracing your wetness with his tongue, then he slurps on your clit. You let out a moan at that, but it sounds lifeless.
You enjoy it for sure, you always enjoy it when he eats you out or does intimate things with you. This time you promised yourself to let the thoughts escape your mind, to finally let go a little. However you couldn't stop the thoughts of Park Sunghoon flowing into your mind, and you hated it. A little bit.
“Is this good?” His voice is soft, his index finger reaching up to your clit as he begins to do circular moves on it.
“Yes” you say, trying to sound breathless, but your voice is concerningly firm.
He pushes down harder, the sudden sensation on the bundle of nerves makes you arch your back and let out a moan. He smirks at the sound you make and keeps doing the same movement with his finger. With his other hand, he traces your entrance, teasing the wet hole before he pushes his index and middle finger inside at the same time.
The sounds you make are finally genuine, and you grip his hair tightly to hold onto something.
“Fuck, you are so tight” he hisses, curling his fingers upwards to press it to your walls.
You whimper “Fuck, Hoon”
Jake is in the middle of speeding up when you let out those two words. He stops immediately, eyes snapping up from your core right into meeting your eyes.
He pulls out his fingers and wipes it in the sheets. Your heart is beating faster than ever in your chest when you see his sharp look, and you feel like it's about to explode at any moment.
“Jake, I’m sorry I don't know why—”
He stands up, smoothing his sweatpants out, trying to hide his painfully obvious erect. “Why?” is all he asks, voice coming out more shy than he intended it. He swallows hard, you see the way his Adams apple bobs in his throat.
The lack of reaction surprises you. When the name slipped out of your mouth, you thought he would snap and yell at you. Knowing how possessive Jake can be, especially at a vulnerable moment like during sex, you would've never thought he would just ask why.
That's why you didn't know what to say.
You prop yourself on your forearm, observing the way he crossed his arms in front of his chest “I’m sorry” you apologize once again.
“Did he fuck you?”
Your eyes widen, and you feel your cheeks turning crimson at the sudden question. You should’ve expected this one. “No,” you shook your head. “I wouldn't cheat on you”
“Then why did you say his name? Out of all people” Jake hisses, his mind going back to the agreement once again. The same agreement he just couldn't get his mind off in the past weeks. Seems like you and him are on the same page, yet it hurts him so bad.
You bite down your lips, sitting down fully on the bed. You try to cover your exposed breasts with your arms, suddenly feeling way too naked and vulnerable in front of him.
“I can't lie to you” you begin, taking a deep breath “He has been approaching me in the past weeks, for some reason. He’s very kind, but I thought his intentions were to become friends. I mean, Sunghoon knows you are my boyfriend, right?” you try and look up, into his intense gaze. “I didn't even notice but I guess I… fantasized about him a little. In the past days. But, that doesn't mean I don't love you, Jake. You are my everything and you know that”
The end of the monologue sounds like you just tried to save your skin, but when you look at him again you see him listening to your every word. And by listening I mean he actually looks like he was interested in what you said, unlikely when you told him about the biology project.
“So” he sits down on the edge of the bed, turning away from you “You want both of us?” he fidgets with his nail.
You have to think that through for a moment. You were more than confused in the past weeks, the sudden approaching by Sunghoon made your whole world flip around, but you still love Jake. No one could ever question your feelings for him. So, looking at these things all together, you could say yes. It was just weird to think about it like that, because you sounded greedy.
“Yes” you say in a bitten whisper, between your teeth.
You fix your gaze on your knees, but after a silent beat, you look up. Though, Jake doesn't even have a cool spot on the bed where he had been sitting before.
Great. He got up and ran away or something, because when you went out to the kitchen + living room, he wasn't there either.
Oh, what have you done…
-
“What's up, pretty?”
You jolt your head up at the familiar voice, being faced with the smiley Sunghoon. “Why are you all alone?”
You shrug, looking back at the top of the barcounter, trying not to cry. It has been two hours since the thing between you and Jake, and after you dressed up you made your way straight to the bat where Sunghoon works, you don't know why either. That was the dumbest place you could’ve ran away to.
During these two hours, two different waiters served you, and Sunghoon just started his shift around twenty minutes ago.
“What's wrong?” his voice softens, tilting his head as he observes you.
You, you want to say, but that would be a little rude.
“Nothing” you bark instead, fidgeting with your own finger instead of looking up at him.
He pushes his tongue to the inside of his cheek, taking your state in for a few moments before he slaps his palms on the countertop. “Alright” he begins “I see that you are sad, so, what about coming with me tonight for dinner? I’ll cheer you up?” he tries, looking at you with puppy eyes.
You sigh, trying not to smile at his sweetness “Sunghoon, you know I have a boyfriend… who also happens to be your best friend. You can't keep doing this” your stomach twists as soon as you say the word ‘boyfriend’ out loud. Do you really have a boyfriend? You can absolutely not handle Jake breaking up with you. If something, that will ruin you.
You swallow hard, and just like if he could read your mind, he says:
“Something happened between you and Jake?” He says it like it's a statement rather than a question. Though, he doesn't seem so concerned about it. His tone is filled with curiosity.
How ironic, Sunghoon being the one who's asking this question “It's complicated.” you say, trying to close the topic as soon as possible.
“You know you can tell me,” he presses.
You clench your jaw tightly, hesitating if you should tell him about the little story or not. The way he looks at you, black shirt sleeves rolled up on his forearm while his palms are on the countertop, tilting his head and looking so cute but also masculine at the same time… it's driving you crazy. “He was eating me out and I kind of might have said a different name. That's all” you say, and the sudden topic of your and Jake's sex life makes him freeze in place for a moment.
“Really?” his voice is slightly more high pitched than before, you don't miss that. He crosses his arms and leans on the countertop, leaning forward to be able to whisper “And what name did you say?”
You swallow the lump in your throat, getting lost in his dark eyes. He frowns with his thick eyebrows, his expression seeming more serious than before “Yours”
He leans back, humming to himself. The loss of his presence close to you lingers in the air as he moves away to the sink, grabbing a glass and drying it with a towel. “Hm, that's interesting, cuz’ me and Jake have a… how do I say it… an agreement ” he says casually, not looking up while doing his work.
You knit your brows together in confusion. What is he talking about?
“What agreement ?”
“We figured Jake has to work on his obvious jealousy issues. So, we made a bet that if you fall for my flirting and want to have sex with me, he has to watch it” he places the glass down next to the other ones with a clinking sound that feels heavy in the bar, because in your mind suddenly everything else is silenced. His tone is so calm and casual it nearly makes your blood boil.
Your heart pounds against your chest heavily. Was it all a game to him? - that is one of the main questions inside your head right now, and you rather shove down the part inside of you which felt excited about the idea.
He turns to you, and his heavy gaze breaks the train of thoughts inside your head. “I guess saying my name during sex makes it up too” he offers a smile.
You don't smile back at him. He lets out a small laugh at your confused reaction, ducking his head down for a moment.
“So, are you in, angel?” he tilts his head, his smile as sweet as ever.
You bite down your lower lip and nod without hesitation. You love Jake, you really do, but Sunghoon has been driving you crazy since you talked with him for the first time. Having them two at the same time sounds a little bit too good to be true. You knew you had to decide as fast as possible.
He hums in approval, walking around the counter so he can be next to you. “I didn't think you would say yes this fast”
You shrug, finally smiling back at him. Sunghoon leans closer to press a small kiss at your earlobe before he whispers “I’ll give you a ride home”
-
Sitting on the passenger seat next to Sunghoon who is holding the steering wheel with one hand while his other is swinging out of the window has never been so awkward. You don’t even attempt to take a glance at him, feeling too embarrassed.
The air feels oddly suffocating, and your heart is still pounding in your chest. You couldn't stop thinking about Jake ever since you got out of the bar. Last time you were home, he magically disappeared. So, where is he? Did he really run away? Did he get home after that?
Upbeat music radiating from the radio snaps you out of your thoughts, and you finally take a gaze at Sunghoon who is humming along with the beat, tapping on the outside of his car’s door with his fingers.
He must have turned the radio up not so long ago, because you clearly remember the dead silence that filled the car a few minutes ago. Seems like you were so lost in your thoughts you didn't even notice it.
“Traffic is shit these days” he comments to himself, pulling out sunglasses from the glove box and sliding it on the bridge of his nose with a smooth move.
You are currently stuck in the traffic for the past twenty minutes, which makes this whole situation even more embarrassing for you, knowing where you are going with what suppose.
You turn away from the window to look at him, getting tired from looking at the same damn electricity pole in these past minutes. “Do you think he's home now?”
When you got into the car, you decided to tell him about every single detail, including the one where he literally disappears out of nowhere.
Sunghoon nods, keeping his eyes on the road.
You furrow your brows “How are you so confident?”
Without a word, he reaches to the backseat, rummaging in his bag for his phone. He hands it to you, the chat with Jake being opened.
you : dude, u fr ran away? dont be a pussy lol. we had an agreement , remember?
Jake : i know. i just needed time to think, thats all
you : are you home now, babyboy?
Jake : yes
Jake : babyboy…?
you : nice, me n yn are going to your place like rn
Jake : what? why?
Your eyes scan the messages, your hands gripping the phone a little bit too tightly. “You don't want to answer him or what's up with the last message?”
He shrugs nonchalantly, not being bothered by it in the slightest “We’ll tell him everything once we get there”
“Makes sense,” you mumble, throwing his phone at the backseat. “Baby Boy?”
A smile tugs in the corner of his lips, but he bites it down “Just joking”
-
The golden light of the sunset from outside creeps its way into the room through the small gap between the curtains, shining at the spot right where you and Sunghoon sit on yours and Jake's bed, making out.
You both sit on your knees, he has one of his hands on your waist to keep you stable while he stuffs your mouth with his tongue and you let out small moans.
When you got to Jake’s and your place, Sunghoon explained everything to Jake. He said he was still in the deal, and you guys basically started it right away. It still felt somewhat absurd, especially because you never would've thought Jake would like this kind of stuff.
So, that's why you and Sunghoon are sitting on the middle of the king sized bed, while Jake sits on a chair settled right in front of the bed, watching you. His eyes are flickering between you and Sunghoon, unsure who to watch.
Sunghoon kisses differently than Jake. He’s more rough, like there's no tomorrow. He moves his lips on yours like if it's possible to eat you up, then he is able to do it.
You can feel Jake's eyes on you, but when you open yours for a moment and glance at him, you see that his eyes are fixated on Sunghoon. He sits still. His posture is straight, his arms are awkwardly on his lap and he doesn't move.
You would be worried that he feels uncomfortable, but Jake himself said it: he’s still in the deal. And you don't have time to overthink it, since Sunghoon bites down your lip, and you can't help the sound that comes out of you.
“Fuck” you mumble, pulling back to take off your shirt.
Sunghoon doesn't try to be subtle with his staring, his eyes immediately set on your red lacy bra, and you see Jake's eyes looking at you from the corner of your eyes too.
You gulp, straightening your back to push out your chest more. You can't help but feel both excited and nervous at the feeling of their eyes on you, looking up and down at you hungrily.
In the next moments, Sunghoon takes off his shirt too, and your eyes fly to his toned abs. His upper body is perfectly worked out, from his wide shoulders to his small waist.
He glances at Jake, then smirks at you when he looks back. “Alright” he starts, and grabs you by your wrists.
Before you could ask what he's doing he makes you sit at the end of the bed, leaning your back against the bed frame as you face Jake now, who’s sitting impatiently in the chair in front of the bed.
Sunghoon shifts next to you and grabs your jaw firmly, turning your head away from Jake to kiss you deeply, his tongue moving roughly in your mouth. While one of his hands holds your jaw, his other makes its way down to your chest, teasingly hovering over one of your boobs. Then he caresses your skin between your breasts with his index and middle finger, making your back arch up in anticipation. He smiles into the kiss and moves his hand lower, pushing down your stomach slightly.
“Sunghoon” you moan softly into the kiss.
“Shh” he pulls away, licking his lips “let's put on a show for him”
Your eyes shift to Jake, who’s leaning a little bit forward in his chair. Sunghoon’s hand moves to the button of your jeans. He’s unbuttoning it so slowly that you are sure if he doesn't rip it off of you in the upcoming few seconds your wetness will be visible on your pants.
When he finally undoes it and pulls it down, throwing it away next to the bed, he grabs both of your thighs, still sitting next to you and giving Jake a clear view as he spreads your legs.
Jake bites down his lower lip, palming the front of his own — now very uncomfortable — jeans.
You eye his very obvious bulge, trying to keep the sounds in your throat, but it's getting harder with each second. You can't stop thinking about both of them ruining you, even though the agreement was only about Jake watching you and Sunghoon.
You pull up your knees, and Sunghoon moves his palm to your core, massaging your wetness with his slender fingers. He pushes down roughly, and you moan.
“Fuck, Hoon” you hum, one of your hands going up to grab onto the bed frame.
Sunghoon’s eyes shift to the top of the bed frame, and he smiles down at you “Great idea” he starts, and you frown your brows at him.
“Do you have any handcuffs?” he asks, his voice sounding way too innocent for this question.
You stutter, making eye contact with Jake who's silent “Uh- yeah it's in the front drawer”
Sunghoon pulls out the said drawer on the bedside table and laughs at the sight “I knew you are a nasty ass couple. I fucking knew it”
He pulls out two pink handcuffs and grabs your hands, handcuffing them together. “Is this okay?”
He asks, and when you nod he moves them above your head, cuffing them to the bedframe with the other handcuff.
“Don't be too greedy” he comments and moves his hand down again, his fingers circling through the wet fabric rougher than before.
“Hmpp— Sunghoon—” you choke out, closing your eyes.
Sunghoon looks at Jake, who still has his right hand on his clothed cock, palming it heavily. “Jake, you should look at yourself now. You look so pathetic.”
A small whimper leaves Jake, and you snap your eyes open to look at his flushed cheeks and heavy eyelids. “You haven't touched yourself because I haven't told you yet. What a good boy” Sunghoon adds, then looks back at you.
You would be lying if the dirty talk he spoke (yes, even with your boyfriend) didn't turn you on even more. Besides, you are sure you look even more pathetic than Jake, being tied up helplessly and laying on the bed, looking up at him with big eyes.
Sunghoon leans down and presses a kiss in-between your breasts, and god, you want to grab onto his hair so much, but all you can do is to ball up your fists desperately. He hooks his fingers onto both sides of your red panties and pulls them down with a smooth move, throwing it aside probably around where your jeans landed too.
He looks up at you, shaking his head “Wearing matching underwear, what a slut”
He glances at Jake again “Do you want to see me finger her?” he asks, voice rough.
Jake nods heavily, and you’ve never in your life seen him being so submissive. Especially for another male, now if something, that was new.
“Good” he turns his head back to you again as he mumbles, and he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead “I’m going to be rough to make him suffer more” he whispers in your ear like it's some secret. “Is that okay, love?”
And you can't help but nod your head, not knowing exactly what you are signing up for. “Yes”
He gently licks your earlobe, but before you could fully focus on that interesting sensation, his fingers firmly penetrate your leaking hole, making you nearly scream.
“Oh my—” you arch your back, and you hear him chuckling next to your ear.
He doesn't start off slowly or anything like that, no, instead he moves his ring and middle finger in and out in a fast rhythm. The wetness of your pussy makes it way easier to move, but he still struggles to set up a steady rhythm at first.
You look at Jake through your knees, he’s biting down his lip so hard it probably bleeds by now. You imagine what he could be thinking about: he probably wishes it was him who was fingering you so hard, and not his best friend.
Sunghoon lets out a deep sigh, his own aching bulge making it hard for him to keep his rhythm steady and not stutter with his fingers. It's also Jake's presence that feels heavy, but having both of you under his dominance makes his ego boost.
Sunghoon glances at Jake, and the sight of him, being so desperate to touch himself yet so silent, almost makes his jaw drop. His face is so red, his skin is probably aching for a touch. Sunghoon finds himself wanting to touch his best friend, but he looks back at you quicker than ever when you let out a breathy moan, distracting him.
“You can—” he clears his throat, looking back at Jake who's listening to his every word closely “Touch yourself.” he adds in a commanding voice.
And he doesn't have to tell Jake twice, who is already out of his pants when you look at him while Sunghoon’s long fingers curl inside of you, your mouth hanging agape as you watch him getting out of his boxer, sitting down at the chair with his hard dick in his hand. He has his eyes on you, his precious girlfriend, prettier than ever, laying on the bed, offering yourself like you are a whore.
Sunghoon suddenly adds a third finger, and your vision goes dizzy for a second, letting out a guttural moan. “Take it” is all he tells you.
The stretch is insane, you feel like your walls are about to rip at any moment. He slows down as he sees you struggling, his other hand caressing your hair softly.
He shifts his gaze to Jake again, who is groaning helplessly in the chair now, leaning back as he strokes his cock.
“Don't cum” Sunghoon says to Jake, and he pulls his fingers out of you too.
You take deep breaths, disappointed at the fact that he didn't let you or Jake come.
He fixates his eyes on Jake, moving his hand to his own hardness now. “What do you want?” he asks gently.
Jake lets go of his shaft, grabbing the armrest of the chair. He hesitates before talking, his eyes flickering between Sunghoon and you “I— Can you kiss me too?”
The question comes a little unexpected, and you frown your brow at Sunghoon for a moment, just to scan his reaction. He looks surprised too, but he doesn't back up. If anything, he gets on all fours and crawls to the end of the bed, looking at Jake for the whole time.
He doesn't even look back at you, and Jake doesn't bother to take a glance at you either, they just lean in as Sunghoon approaches the man in the chair. Sunghoon kisses him just like he kissed you before: roughly.
It's torture, because you know exactly how it feels and you know exactly what must Jake feel. The latter’s hands wrap on the sides of Sunghoon’s face, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss.
You can't look away from them. Both of them are undeniably hot, and seeing them kiss is also not the least attractive thing you've seen. Sunghoon sits on his knees so he can run his fingers through Jake's dark locks, his fingers grasping his hair into his fists. They look like this is practice for them, like they have been doing this since they knew how to kiss.
You hear Jake whimper into the kiss, Sunghoon probably bit down his lip. Then, Sunghoon yanks Jake back by his hair, making him look up, a string of saliva still connecting their lips together. “You are so needy, Jae” he smirks and lets go “Sit with your back to the bedframe. I want you to have a clear view”
Jake just nods and crawls to the bedframe, leaning his back against it as he sits down next to you. He’s too embarrassed to look down at you, but you look at him. You have never seen Jake this desperate and needy in your whole life, and it was such a big turn on. He looks pitiful and embarrassed, face red and hair messy because Sunghoon messed it up during their kiss.
However, you don't have much time to enjoy the view of Jake, because Sunghoon stands next to you and undoes the handcuffs that kept you still by the bed.
He leads you to the end of the bed by your wrists, gesturing you to sit down on the edge of the bed. You do as he tells you, laying down and propping yourself on your forearms to look up at him from under your lashes.
In this position, you see nothing of Jake who's sitting by the bed frame, his semi-hard cock already in his hand again, stroking it vaguely. You only see Sunghoon who squats down in front of you, his eyes shifting behind your back, at Jake.
“What do you want me to do to her?” He asks, like you aren't even there.
There's a silent beat before the answer comes. “Undo her bra. I want to see her breasts bounce while you fuck her”
Jake’s voice is firm again now, seems like he gained back his confidence he usually has when it's just the two of you. Sunghoon gives him a sly smirk before turning back his attention to you, looking at you like you are the only woman in the world. He pulls his eyebrows together as he looks up, eyes big like a puppy's.
“Can I undo your bra, angel?”
You nod your head, and his hands are already caressing your back up and down as he reaches for the back of your bra and undoes it with a soft click that feels like an echo in the silent room. You hear Jake murmur when Sunghoon throws your bra away and looks at him. “You want to see her breasts, hm? It must feel so bad that you can't see them right now and it's me seeing them. They look pretty good, right, Jae?”
You hear something behind your back, and you recognize the sound : Jake is definitely stroking himself again. Sunghoon’s dirty talk works on him better than anything else, and even though it surprises you it makes you oddly turned on too.
“They are so round, and the nipples are so hard…” he continues, now setting his eyes on your breasts. Jake knows all of it, he knows how your breasts look like more than anything else, but now he only can see your back and it makes him impatient. “Angel, your breasts are perfect” Sunghoon softens his voice, it's crazy that you can make a difference between when he's talking to Jake and when he's talking to you so easily. His whole demeanor changes. “Can I fuck these pretty tits? Please?”
He still squats in front of you and his hands are on your sides, thumbs softly pushing your stomach down as he looks up at you with his pretty, thick eyebrows knitted together. You just can't say no to this. You bob your head, and he finally reaches town to his pants to free his cock that's aching to be touched.
There's pre-cum spilling out of his flushed tip, and he smears it over his cock with his hand before he stands up in front of you, looking over your head straight at Jake like you were only here when he was squatting in front of you.
“Baby, I don't want to waste lube yet…” Sunghoon grabs your hair and yanks your head so you look up at him as he offers you a sweet smile “Would you be so kind and let me use your mouth instead?” He lets your hair loose so you can nod, no words coming out of your mouth.
He moves his hand from your hair to your face and grabs your jaw as he pushes his thumb into your mouth eagerly, forcing you to open it. Sunghoon slightly slaps your cheek before letting your jaw go and he puts his leaking cock to the tip of your tongue. He pushes in slowly, and he moans when he meets the warmness of your saliva, your tongue immediately licking the part of his cock that entered your mouth.
You lick off all the pre-cum that has leaked in your mouth and begin to move your head, looking up at him from under your lashes while doing it. However his gaze doesn't meet yours, he has his eyes fixed on Jake who still sits in the end of the bed with spread legs, but he's not touching himself anymore. He's completely silent as he watches the scene unfold before him.
You do your work and bob your head at Sunghoon’s cock while he stays still, one of his hands tangling in your hair to lead you slightly. There's a vein going down from the base of his cock to his tip, and you slide your tongue across it earning a soft whimper.
After a few moments he averts his gaze away from Jake and suddenly pulls out of your mouth, slapping your cheek again slightly in a form of appreciation. “Fuck, angel, you did such a good job” he comments, his gaze flickering between you and your boyfriend “He taught you so well how to suck dick, you could be a whore by now”
Jake's brows furrow together at the mention of you with other men, but he doesn't say a word. He lets Sunghoon talk. “Though he is very possessive of you so that isn't in your vision board, I’m guessing” he lets out a laugh “But… seems like he doesn't mind it when you are with me. He's still hard, even though he already jerked off once”
Sunghoon eyes Jake, and he looks at him like he's just a piece of meat and nothing else. His eyes darted from his flushed face and sharp eyes to his lap and a sly smile tugs in the corner of his lips “Or am I that special, Jae?”
Jake runs a hand through his messy black hair, looking away from Sunghoon’s dark gaze. “You are not special, it's just a one time thing” he murmurs.
“A one time thing?” Sunghoon repeats mockingly “Don't act like you don't jerk off to the image of me and your girlfriend together”
You furrow your brows confusedly at that, looking up at Sunghoon who still has his eyes on the man behind your back “Sunghoon…” you try to hush him
“It’s none of your business” Jake barks
“It’s hot” Sunghoon says back, like it's the most casual thing ever. But was their friendship ever casual?
Before Jake could say anything at that, before he could address everything, that he might have slight feelings for his best friend too, Sunghoon is looking at you again.
“You warmed up my cock so well, love” he reaches down to grope your breast, pinching your nipple that makes you let out a choked sound. “It’s time to ruin these cuties”
He bites down his bottom lip as he moves closer to you again, pushing his hard and flushed cock between your breasts. “Push them together” he commands, and you do as you were told.
He slides his cock upward, the saliva you left on it and the pre-cum it's mixed with makes it move easily. He rolls his hips, watching as his cock slides between your breasts while you push them together so they wrap around it better. “Fuck” Sunghoon’s thrusts stutter while more and more pre-cum leak out of his cock. But before he could come, he grabs onto your shoulders and pushes himself away from you, leaving you with your breasts covered in your own saliva and his pre-cum.
He looks over at Jake again to see his reaction, and he just sits there while eyeing Sunghoon with his head tilted back toward the bedframe.
“Do you want to fuck her?” Sunghoon asks, and you turn your head around to look at him too.
Jake's eyes flicker between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he shakes his head which surprises you. “You fuck her. That was in the agreement.”
“Let's make another agreement,” Sunghoon suggests, looking at both of you. “If you’ll be a good boy and won't touch yourself while I fuck your girlfriend, we both fuck her. How about this?”
Jake nods with you at the same time, totally synched up. Having both of them in you is all you want right now. Not just Sunghoon, not just Jake, but both of them at the same time.
“Awesome” Sunghoon smiles, his gaze darkening “Jake you sit back in the chair, y/n you go to the side of the bed.” he commands, and Jake practically jumps out of the bed to sit back into his chair that's placed in front of the bed.
“Let's make sure you’ll be good for me” Sunghoon says as he walks over to Jake with both handcuffs in his hands, clicking them open to handcuff his hands to the armrests. After he’s done, he gives him a satisfied smirk. “Now you definitely won't touch yourself, right?” he looks down at Jake who is now totally tied up to the chair. Then after a few silent moments, Sunghoon decides to lean forward and click one of the handcuffs open. Jake blinks up at him.
“You know what? The choice is in your hands, Jae. I give you the right to touch yourself but… as you can see, I left one of the handcuffs on for a reason.” He turns around, not giving any more shit about Jake.
You sit down on the edge of the bed, but Sunghoon gestures to you to stand up instead. “Turn around and bend over, beautiful”
You get on fours on the bed and bend over slowly, arching your back teasingly to put a show up for him. Sunghoon bites down his lip as he watches your ass get in the air and your chest pushed down to the sheets. He puts his hands on your waist possessively, pulling you closer to himself. “What a good girl” he murmurs as he strokes his cock and places it to your entrance, then pushes in firmly without any warning. You grasp the sheets in your fists, trying to swallow a high-pitched scream.
He begins to move easily, thrusting deep into you with every roll of his hips until you become a moaning mess. Sunghoon on his own is groaning after every move, enjoying how deep he can go inside you to fill you up.
He places one of his hands on the arch of your back while his other hand lingers on your waist, digging his thumbnail into the skin of your stomach. Your walls wrap around him so perfectly like you were meant to be filled up with his length, too bad it's Jake who owns you.
You try to keep your head down on the mattress while Sunghoon pounds into you, the skin-to-skin sound filling up the room. Jake sits in the chair eagerly, trying so hard to not touch himself. It’s hard, because he can feel his cock twitch every time he sees Sunghoon penetrate you deeply as your pussy drips.
Sunghoon’s hand comes up to the back of your head to pull you by your hair so you can talk. “You like it?” he asks, breathless.
“Yes” you cry out, feeling a drop of tear spilling from your eye “Please Sunghoon keep fucking me like this” you beg.
Sunghoon smiles and furrows his brows in pleasure as you arch your back even more so he can hit you just at the right angle. “You heard that, Jake?” he turns his head towards his friend, who grabs the armrest so hard that his knuckles have turned white. “He likes how I fuck her”
Jake swallows hard, biting the inside of his cheek down as he feels the rage building up in himself. This scenario only worked well in his head — he thinks, though he's undeniably hard again.
With a long groan, Sunghoon pulls out of you and strokes himself, pushing your back down with his hand to make you arch deeper. “Good girl” he says when he sees you back shrinking down deeper, and after a few moments he spills his cum all over your back with a soft whimper escaping him.
“Shit” he mumbles when he comes, making a mess of your back. Then, he looks at Jake who’s still sitting in his chair helplessly, one hand cuffed to the armrests and the other grasping the other armrest as hard as he can, trying to restrain himself.
“You listened to me.” Sunghoon states, analyzing Jake’s state by looking him up and down. “You are so cute like this, Jae. Just sitting in your small chair whining like a puppy while you try to restrain yourself from touching. But you’ll do it eventually, right? Because when you put food in front of a puppy and tell him to not eat, he’ll eat it after a few desperate whines anyway.” He leans forward, their faces close together while you still try to gain yourself together on the bed. “Right?”
“Just… undo the handcuff already” Jake turns his head away, feeling like he can't look into his best friend’s eyes right now. Not like this. Not in this state. He reaches his cuffed hand as much as he can towards Sunghoon, the chain clinking slightly as he shakes it.
Sunghoon hums but then gives in and undoes the handcuff, letting Jake’s hand totally free. Now he's not under his mercy, not anymore. Jake massages his red wrist with his other hand, fixing his gaze on his own hands instead of looking at Sunghoon who’s still hovering above him.
“So, are you going to analyze the veins on your hand or would you rather come to see that beauty laying in your bed, hm?” Jake finally looks up and glances at you, who’s sitting on the bed with messy hair and a dirty back. You make eye contact with him for a thin moment, but you both realize it's a bit awkward.
You’ve never been this vulnerable in this relationship, and neither had him. It’s a new thing, and you aren't sure how things will be after this night.
Jake walks over to you and leans down to hint a kiss on your forehead. It’s the most gentle thing that has happened to you today. Then, he cups your cheeks with his hands and leans down to kiss you deeply. “Are you okay?” he whispers, only for you to hear. You nod your head in his hands, opening your eyes to look at him.
Jake pulls away from you, letting your face go. Then, he looks at Sunghoon, something pitiful in his eyes. “So, did I do good?” a small smile tugs in the corner of his lips as he asks, and Sunghoon just lets out a laugh.
“Of course you did” Sunghoon answers, folding his arms in front of his chest “You earn a prize” then, both of them look at you as you sit on the edge of the bed and they are towering right in front of you.
You suddenly stand up from your place and walk over to them, grabbing both of their heads and pushing them close to each other until their lips meet. Then, you pull your hands away and just watch as the scene unfolds in front of you and they deepen the kiss, Jake’s tongue darting out to lick Sunghoon's lips.
Their hands can't find their places, Jake sometimes grabs onto Sunghoon's neck while Sunghoon's hands get glued to his waist, but they grope each other hungrily everywhere they can touch.
You sit back on the bed to spread your legs, your hand going down to your core. You start to message your clit, watching them kissing each other. Jake lets out a small moan when Sunghoon goes down with his head, kissing on his neck now. He bites and sucks the skin there, and Jake runs his hand into his dark locks “Fuck, Hoon”
Your thumb remains on doing circular moves on your clitoris while you move your middle and index finger between your folds, sliding them down and up. You feel the tension building up in your nerves as the two men in front of you get hungrier and more in heat. Sunghoon goes lower and bites Jake’s collarbone, and Jake can't help but close his eyes to enjoy, feeling every wave of heat the kiss brings go down to his arousal.
“Can I… can” Jake mumbles between small whines, and you push your middle finger in your pulsing hole. “Can I choose a — ah— prize?”
Sunghoon backs up, looking at him with wide eyes “What do you mean?”
Jake bites down his lip, unsure if he should really say his thoughts out loud. “Would you give me head?”
“What?”
Jake feels his cheeks becoming crimson color, and he turns away “Nevermind”
You stop your movements and pull your finger out of yourself, watching all of this with pure curiosity. What is up with Jake? Since when is he like this?
“Okay, you fucked up the whole mood” Sunghoon says as he walks around the room to collect his clothes, already putting his shirt back up.
“But what about Jake’s prize? He didn't touch himself” you question, kind of confused and disappointed by the sudden cut-end of the night.
“Maybe next time” Sunghoon pulls his jeans up, doing his buttons. When he turns back around, he faces two blinking faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I thought this was… you know, a one time thing” Jake mumbles.
Sunghoon lets a laugh out “We already talked about this”
You and Jake share a look while Sunghoon looks for his socks then puts them on, after finding it eventually. “You want to keep doing this?” you dare to ask, and Sunghoon nods casually.
“Why not? Did you guys have fun? I think we can keep this thing up. As long as no one knows about it… I don't want people to think I’m a weird pervert or something”
“So you want to do it in secret” Jake says, nodding to himself as he lets the words sink in.
“Yeah” Sunghoon pulls his phone out of his jeans's pocket, checking his messages “Shit, I got called in for work stuff. I have to go.”
“We’ll talk about it, I guess” you add before he goes away, waving goodbye.
And in the next moment, you and Jake are left alone in complete silence, and for a moment you avoid his gaze. You feel that again, that weird vulnerable feeling you felt when you accidentally said Sunghoon's name while you two had sex. Fiddling with your fingers, you ask “Do you think it's a good idea?”
Jake folds his arms as he thinks for a moment, then nods “I’m not against it”
“What?” you question, genuinely surprised. That would mean he has to share you with someone, and last time you checked Jake definitely wasn't the type to do that. “You would share me with Sunghoon?”
“Look, I— I don't know, okay? He’s my best friend and I know you are in good hands when you are with him.” he stops for a moment, mouth going dry. “I have to work on my jealousy issues. They cloud my every day, and trust me y/n it’s not good. I hate it, I don't want to have it. I feel like this could help. Sunghoon is open minded and… well, you find him attractive, don't you?”
You bite down your lip until it bleeds a little, your teeth leaving a small wound on it. If he asked you this a few hours or days ago, you would definitely lie to this question. But now, everything has changed.
“Yes, I do”
“So are you in? It wouldn't be a big thing if it's just between the three of us, right?”
You hesitate for a moment before you say: “Yes”
A/N :: WOOHOOO!! if you reached the end of this, thank you for reading this story ♡ every like, comment (especially comments), reblogs and support is very very appreciated!! and don't be angry about this VERY open end because 🥁🥁🥁 part 2 is comingggg cuz i only wanted to make this as a short smut oneshot as funsies with no specific plot written down in my drafts but its already kinda long and i absolutely fell in love with this plot, and i feel like i can add so much more feelings and stuff to it!! so stay tuned, maybe this'll become my first series
.𖥔 ݁ SYNOPSIS . after getting publicly broken up with because of a misspread rumor, you move away to "heal" and "start over". when you come back after months and see your ex and said person—who spread those rumors about you—getting closer each day, you realize maybe you shouldn't have ever come back. and it definitely doesn't help when your ex starts giving you mixed signals about everything.
PAIRING ex!jake x fem!reader
FEATURING aespa ningning, riize shotaro, nct haechan, le sserafim yunjin +enhypen
✎ wc 20k
TAGS smau (+written) ; crack ; university au ; lots of miscommunication ; dumbass jake ; cringey moments ; cliche 𝓦 MDNI there’s a specific part where I write about their first time, so I will put a warning beforehand for people who would rather not read that, or if you are a minor! It’s not that descriptive since I’m not usually one to write these type of scenes, so hopefully this is okay lol
SIM JAEYUN was only eleven when he met you. You were both at the neighbourhood park, playing basketball on each end, and he couldn’t help but to admire how good you were with the ball. You were a little bit taller than him, so he felt intimidated to speak to you, ask if you wanted to play basketball with him. But you being you, you noticed him.
“Hi!”
Jake threw the ball, which hit the nest then came back directly to his face. You gasped and rushed to his side where he had fallen to the floor. “Are you okay?”
He held his head and nodded, “It’s nothing.”
You giggled softly, grabbing his ball that was rolling away then placed it in front of him. “I didn’t mean to distract you. I was wondering since we’re both playing with the ball that maybe you’d want to play together? That way we can use the whole court.”
“You want to play with me?” He asked, his hand falling to his knee.
You nodded with a smile, the same one that first made Jake notice you.
“Kiddo, your mom’s making dinner!” Both you and Jake looked at the man waving you over, making you sigh in disappointment as you turned to the little boy in front of you. You held your hand out for him to take, which he took with a little hesitation. You pulled him up and smiled.
“I have to go. We can play next time. Bye!”
Without saying anything else, you waved at the boy and ran away to who Jake believed was your dad. His eyes widened when the man squinted his eyes, making him smile nervously and wave politely.
Unfortunately, after that interaction with the girl he believed was the love of his life, he never got to play basketball with you. Jake hid himself in his house for the rest of the year, he was scared of girls–he was scared of you. He had never met a girl, other than pre-school, he’s attended an all-boys school, making it obvious he didn’t know how to interact with girls other than his mom and aunts. So when you asked him to play and he embarrassed himself by hitting himself with the ball, he thought you’d make fun of him the next time you saw each other, which is why he decided never to come out of his room until he was eighteen.
Maybe he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t risk it. The worst part is that he didn’t even learn your name, or you his. But he learned that you lived just two blocks away from his house, so sometimes he would discreetly take a walk with his puppy or ride his scooter to search for your house and see if you were there. One time, he saw you selling lemonade just outside on your porch, so he forced his older brother to buy a few cups with his own hard-earned money. His brother found it cute. When he was buying the lemonade, Jake was hiding behind a tree, watching the interaction happily as you received the money from his brother and you handed him the two lemonades. The smile on your face lightened up his world. His heart felt lighter, and he couldn't help but to giggle on the way home in his scooter.
“Her name is Y/n.”
“You asked for her name?!” He raised his voice at his brother, embarrassed. “Hyung, you can’t just do that!”
His brother laughed, enjoying the little cup of lemonade as he watched his little brother’s ears redden.
WHEN JAKE first entered high school, he was excited because it was a mixed school, and even though you were neighbours, he was hoping you’d both attend the same high school. He was fourteen now, it had been three years since you first met, also three years he hid away to not embarrass himself again.
But of course, humiliation was basically Jake’s middle name.
It was during lunch break on the first day, a boy from his old school named Heeseung– who was a year older, had invited him to play basketball with two other boys he didn’t know, and of course he accepted. It was all going well, he had missed a couple shots but redeemed himself by shooting one from a large distance, earning a few cheers from the girls who were watching by the bench. But he didn’t care about them, his main focus was on the girl that was sitting under the tree, laughing with another girl.
“Watch out!”
Sunghoon had thrown the ball right in Jake’s face, and you had seen it all. The boy fell to the floor with a groan, making his new friends rush to him. While they were busy checking up on him, you watched as the ball rolled your way, you stopped your conversation with Lily–your new friend, and stood up, straightened your skirt, and picked up the ball that was just in front of your feet.
“I’ll be right back.”
Lily nodded, watching as you made your way to the silly boy who was trying to stand up. When he looked at you, his jaw dropped. You were even more beautiful up-close, the sun was on your face, making you look like a goddess–he couldn’t believe you were walking up to him.
Without saying a word, you stretched your arms out, the ball touching the boy’s chest. A smile appeared on your face when Jake’s hands shakingly grabbed the ball.
“T-thank you.”
You nodded, about to walk away when he opened his mouth again. “I’m Jake. We’re neighbours–kind of, I live at the end of the street. There’s like ten houses between us.” He rambled, making you giggle.
You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and nodded, “I know. My dad and I play basketball every Sunday morning, you should play with us sometimes, he’s a really good coach.” You suggested.
Jake couldn’t believe the angel in front of him was actually inviting him to play basketball with him, it was surreal. It was a dream.
“S-sure. That would be awesome!” He chuckled.
That same week, on Sunday morning, Jake had met up with you and your father. He was very awkward, played a little badly, but it was fun, because he was playing with you. Your father taught him a few tricks, and he tried using them against you, but you were two steps ahead of him, you found him cute.
You and Jake became very close after that Sunday. You would walk back home together after saying goodbye to your other friends. It was routine to walk home, you protected each other, and your parents–along with Jake’s, trusted you two to take care of each other and get back home safely. Some days, Jay would walk back home with you two, only parting ways after a couple of minutes. Some days you’d eat at Jake’s house and vice versa. Jake’s brother would tease him, but something about Jake is that he admired how you would defend him or do something to make him feel better. You were always there to make him happy, not once did he feel sad when you were there. You were special to him.
BY YOUR second year, you were inseparable. Jake had gotten the same exact schedule as you, and some of the classes he shared with Jay as well. So to say you were together 24/7 was an understatement. Seriously, he’d be following you like a lost puppy. You’d tell him, “You know you can go to your friends too, right? I don’t want you to feel like you need to be with me all the time.” And he’d respond with, “I want to be with you all the time.”
Jake was never one to hide his feelings for you, but you were a little oblivious.
No friend would do the things he did for you. He wouldn’t carry your backpack all the way home if it were Sunghoon. He wouldn’t give you his banana milk because he knew you loved banana milk if it were Heeseung. He wouldn’t cancel on his friend to help you study for physics if it were Jay. He wouldn’t do any of that stuff if it weren’t you.
“Look, it’s Sohn Youngjae.” You whispered.
A third year student who you had a huge crush on. Jake was definitely not jealous. “He looks like a Korean Peter Pevensie, don’t you think?” You turned to Jake, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears.
He scrunched his face, poking the food. “The Narnia guy?” You nodded. “But he’s not blond.”
“Hmm, you’re right. He’s still kind of cute.” You shrugged.
Cute. You thought a boy was “cute”. You only ever called Jake that–and that Riki boy you babysat, how can you call a boy you’ve never talked to “cute”? Was it not a special compliment?
That summer, Jake decided to dye his hair blond. Terrible idea. His original intent was to look similar to Peter Pevensie, your fictional crush since you were a baby. That same character you said you’d pick over any boy. Jake wanted to change that, so he dyed his hair.
When he showed up at your doorstep, your jaw dropped.
“Your hair is blond.” You stated.
He gave you that tight-awkward smile, “Is it bad?”
You shook your head as you ran your fingers through his hair. Jake couldn’t help but to close his eyes, making you giggle. “You look like Layla!” He opened his eyes and frowned.
“What? No, don’t you think I look like the Narnia guy?” You giggled again, shaking your head. “Oh.”
“Did you dye your hair to look like him?” You asked. Jake hesitated, but ended up nodding, ashamed. “Why? I mean, it looks really good, but your natural hair is already pretty.”
He shrugged, “I just thought you’d like me better if I looked like him. He’s your fictional crush, after all. And you always say you’d choose him over anyone.” He rambled.
“Jake,” You covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, making him roll his eyes. “Dude, he’s a fictional character! He’s not real. And I’m obviously being dramatic when I say I’d choose him over anyone.” You explained with little laughs.
“So…you like me better than him?” He wondered.
You nodded. “I would pick you in a room full of Peter Pevensies.”
You crossed your fingers, making him break into a smile. “You’re so annoying.”
THERE WERE so many ways he wanted to confess to you. He had practiced, wrote so many letters, asked his cousins, his mom, and even Lily–your best friend, for some advice on how to tell a girl he likes her. But of course, Jake was good at everything but going along with a plan. His original plan was to ask you out just before Christmas, but he got nervous, too nervous, and decided maybe to wait for a bit. He wasn’t completely sure if you liked him back, but after having a talk with your best friend and asking his friends what they thought about you, he thought there was a possibility that maybe you did like him back.
“I’m not telling you anything, dude.”
“From Aussie to Aussie, you have to.”
Lily gasped, hitting the boy’s shoulder, making him groan in pain. “That’s not fair! We swore to only use that when it’s necessary.”
Jake rolled his eyes, moving his hands in the air. “This is important, I need to know that I’m not misunderstanding anything. If I tell her I like her and she doesn’t like me back, our friendship is ruined. If she does like me back, then maybe I can be her boyfriend. But I’m overthinking our interactions now. Do you think I’m being delusional and she doesn’t like me at all, yes or no?” He squinted his eyes at the girl.
There was once a time where he got a nintendo switch for his birthday and the first thing he did was run to your house to show you. You had gasped, excited for him. “That’s so cool!”
His smile was bigger than it was when he received the gift, because nothing made him more happy than seeing you smile.
“I know, right?” He giggled, handing it to her. “Here, they got me mario kart. Your favorite.”
You gasped and grabbed the switch, your fingers not knowing how to move. “I-I don’t know how to use this. I usually use controllers.” You nervously admitted.
Jake smiled calmly, “Here, let me show you.” He gently placed his fingers over yours, guiding them. “You have to press this one to move.” He moved your finger with his. “Yeah, like that.”
You were not paying attention to what he was saying, your eyes kept flickering to his as he kept explaining to you how to use the switch. When he finished, he looked at you and smiled, “D-did you get it?” He asked, suddenly stuttering when he realized you were looking at him.
“Not really.” You breathed out a laugh, making him smile, hands still over yours.
“It’s okay. You should come to my house so we can play. That way you can practice.” He suggested, making you smile and nod with excitement.
“You are delusional.”
His jaw dropped.
“But maybe there’s a tiny chance that she might like you back.” Jake pouted, blinking too many times. “Fine! I’m not telling you anything but I will tell you it will be a great idea to confess.”
“Because she likes me back?” His eyes lightened up.
“That’s all I’ll say.” She zipped her mouth and dramatically walked backwards.
Jake stood up and raised his arm, pretending to hit the air dramatically.
After that, he realized he either had everything to lose, or the opportunity to finally make his dream come true. Eleven year old Jake would be disappointed in seventeen year old Jake if he knew how long he was taking in confessing to his crush.
“You smell like Christmas.”
Now what is that compliment? Not even Jake knew, but somehow, you found it cute. “And you smell like expensive cologne.”
You were right, Jake did smell like expensive cologne. His uncle had given it to him as a gift and he poured it all over himself right before he sprinted to your house. He sniffed his own clothes and smiled awkwardly. “My uncle gave me a cologne for Christmas.” He shook his head, opening his jacket to reveal a small wrapped box. “Do you think we could walk for a little bit?”
You nodded, Jake watched as you looked back at your parents who gave you thumbs up. You grabbed your hung coat from the entry and stepped outside, slipping your shoes on. You and Jake walked for a minute, before he stopped in front of you and handed you the box he was waiting for a whole month to give to you.
“This is for you. It’s not much but it reminded me of you. Merry Christmas.” He said your name in a way you never heard.
You smiled shyly, grabbing the box. “Can I open it now?” He nodded, looking nervous.
He didn’t know how you’d react, you always gave him and your friends gifts, so maybe you wouldn’t be that amazed by his small gift. But when a small gasp escaped your lips as you opened the box, revealing a beautiful necklace with a shiny sun on it, Jake realized maybe you were just really grateful. You looked at Jake and immediately hugged him to which he froze on the spot, not reacting fast. You pulled away from the hug, a small shy chuckle coming out of your lips as you looked down at the gift.
“I-I know it’s not much—“
“—it’s perfect. Thank you, Jake.”
He nodded, a sigh of relief escaping him. At least one of the many few things he wanted to do tonight was done.
“The reason I-I chose this necklace was because you light up every room you walk into. You being present is enough to make me smile—I guess it’s not that significant for you but I just thought because it reminded me of you, I’d get it.” He rambled through his words, making you smile.
“It’s the best gift someone has ever given me.” You confessed, “Now I feel embarrassed about my gift.”
You looked down, kicking your feet. Jake’s eyes widened in surprise, “you got me something?” He asked.
Again, he knew how much you loved giving gifts, but he always felt so special for being one of those people that were there to receive.
You nodded, handing him the bag with a side smile. He quickly opened it with a smile, a gasp escaping him when he saw the several sour jellies, a bracelet you made, and a Lego box inside it.
The smile on his face couldn’t be explained.
“Y/n, you’re amazing! This gift is everything!”
With no hesitation, he threw himself on you, placing delicate touches with his lips all over your head before lifting your head up, his lips reaching for your cheeks. You froze and looked at him, making him freeze as well.
Jake, what the hell are you doing? He thought, gasping as he realized what he had done.
“I-I’m so sorry.” He mumbled.
You stared at him, your eyes then flickering down to his mouth for a quick second. When he noticed that, he did the same. “I wanted to do this more formally but, c-can I be your boyfriend?” He asked.
That was not part of the plan, at least not how he wanted it to be.
Your lips parted open, a breath of relief escaping them. “That’s so random.”
Jake tilted his head to the side, “I’m not sure how to take that.” His lips moved, an inch close to your lips.
“It’s a yes. You can also kiss me, Jake.”
“Thank God.”
Jake closed the space between your lips, slowly and with no intent of leaving, moving his lips in synchronization with yours. He smiled into the kiss, making you pull away, giggling when you saw Jake’s reddened ears.
“Are you blushing?”
He shook his head. “Maybe. Can’t a boy blush because of his girlfriend?”
Girlfriend. You were Jake’s girlfriend. His girlfriend.
You chuckled, eyes squinted as your smile took over your face.
“Let me put the necklace on you, you silly goose.”
“You did not just call me that!”
“OKAY SAY, cheese!”
Even though Jake was going to the same university as his girlfriend and his friends, he couldn’t help but to leave a little bit sad. High school was the place where your relationship first started, where many of your “firsts” happened, and he was sad to leave it all behind.
“Jakey, get in the picture!”
Your dad waved him over, making him look at his own parents before rushing to your side. Your dad wrapped an arm around Jake’s shoulder, whereas he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him with the biggest smile on his face.
“Cheese!”
Instead of looking at the camera, for most of the pictures, Jake was looking at you.
“Okay, now take one with your friends, sweetie.” Your dad grabbed the camera as he gestured to you to get your friends.
You turned to Jake and shrugged. “We should get Lily and the boys.” He nodded, not wasting a second before he rushed to look for them.
You giggled, turning to your family. A second later, the group approached your dad with the proudest smiles on their faces.
“Mr. L/n, are you proud of me for graduating?” Sunghoon asked, flexing his muscles and showing off his graduated certificate.
“Of course, Sunghoon. I’m proud of all of you, especially Lily.” He pointed at the Australian girl, who flipped her hair dramatically on Sunghoon’s face, making him roll his eyes. “Okay, now get into a group hug. For the memories!”
You stood in the middle with Jake and Lily by your sides, then Sunghoon stood by Lily’s side and Jay by Jake’s. You all hugged each other tightly, not even bothering looking at the camera as you smiled happily at each other. Click. Your dad snapped the picture, a proud smile on his face. “Okay, funny faces now!”
Everyone stuck their tongues out and made peace signs, but all Jake could do was turn to you and laugh when he saw your face. Click.
“Okay, now the long-distance best friends!”
Lily and you pouted as you pushed the boys off and hugged each other tightly, making them laugh. “I’m going to miss you, Aussie baby girl!” You sobbed.
“And I’m going to miss you, my kawaii baby Pucca!”
Your dad laughed even harder at the nicknames as he snapped the pictures.
“Okay, now the boys!”
Sunghoon pushed both of you out of the way and was quick to flex his muscles, making Jake and Jay copy him. Their parents rolled their eyes, and more specifically, you and Lily did the same, only laughter coming out of your mouths.
“And….now the lovely couple!”
You snapped your head to your dad, to which Jake smiled widely as he pulled you into a very respectful hug. Click. You leaned away when he tried kissing your cheek, cheeks warming up as you tried pushing him away. Click. Click. Click.
“Let the boy kiss you!” Your dad teased.
“Stop, dad!” You cringed.
Jake really couldn’t be happier.
❌ MDNI ❌
JAKE WAS knew loving someone would be this easy. Maybe it was just you that was easy to love. You were just there, existing, and Jake wanted to do whatever it took to keep you here with him. It had been almost three years since you first started dating, and he couldn’t be happier.
“Don’t open your eyes yet.”
You were giggling, blindfold still on, as you waited for Jake to guide you to wherever he was taking you. “Hurry up!”
He giggled, placing his hands on your waist, footsteps matching yours as he stepped into his bedroom. Without saying anything, he pulled the blindfold off, “Ta-da! Happy birthday, pretty!”
You opened your eyes and gasped, turning just an inch to see Jake with the biggest smile on his face. The room was filled with a bouquet of your favorite flower, a big stack of books, and the lego you had said you wanted just a few months prior. You gave him the tightest hug, arms wrapped around his shoulders where his rested all the way around your waist.
“Jake, this is so beautiful.” You sobbed into his neck. “Thank you so much.”
He pulled away just enough to see your face and frowned, “Are you crying?”
You shook your head ‘no’, but the tears forming in your eyes said otherwise. Jake chuckled, grabbing your cheeks to plant kisses all over your face. “Don’t cry, beautiful.”
You closed your eyes as he kept leaving kisses, making you sob harder. He let out a small sob too, feeling sad for you, he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby. You’re going to make me cry.” He tried to joke, making you giggle on his chest.
You pulled away, his arms still wrapped around you, your hands moved to his cheeks as you leaned in to give him a long-lasting kiss on his lips. He melted under your touch, making you smile when you pulled away, caressing his face.
“I love you so so much.” You placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth before rushing to the bed to see your gifts.
Jake stood there for a second with a smile on his face, just watching you go through the stack of books. “I went through your bookshelf so I wouldn’t get you a duplicate.” He mentioned.
You held one of the books to your heart and gasped, “Ugh, the effort!”
He rolled his eyes and jumped on the bed right next to you, pulling you into a hug. He started leaving soft kisses on your jaw, neck, collarbone, making you giggle as you put the book down and turned to face him, “I want to tell you something really important.”
He pressed his lips on your shoulder, eyes set on you. “What is it?” He said in between kisses.
“I…I think I’m ready.” You confessed, making him sit up in confusion.
“For?”
“To have sex.”
His eyes widened, “A-are you sure?” He stuttered. “We don’t have to rush things. I-I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured or anything–”
“I know! I’ve just been thinking. There’s no one else I’d want to do this with, I want you to be my first time.” You smiled shyly, fidgeting with the rolled up blanket beneath you.
Jake nodded, licking his lips as a small chuckle escaped him. “I want you to be my first time too. B-but what if you don’t like it? I’m not experienced, or anything.” He said, ashamed. “What if you get the ick?”
You snorted, “You’re weird already, there’s nothing you can do that’ll get me the ick. Besides, they say first times are always awkward, but…I trust you, and it doesn’t have to be perfect, you know?” You reassured, then noticed the look on your boyfriend’s face. He looked…nervous, really nervous. “Unless you don’t want to do anything yet, I completely understand. I just wanted to tell you that I'm ready, so someday we can–”
Jake didn’t know what got into him that night, but before you could even finish the sentence, his lips were on yours, and hands were everywhere. This kiss was something else, hungrier, passionate. He kissed you like he wanted you to know this part was what was best. He devoured you, and you let him.
Jake knew about sex, of course he did. He was a nineteen year old boy who had just finished his sophomore year of college. He was the only one in his friend group that was in a relationship, so it was only a matter of time when they would ask him when he and you would have sex. But he never said anything, it wasn’t a topic of conversation he wanted to have with people. But of course he was curious, how couldn’t he? He would listen to his friends talk and talk about their hook up experiences. But he had that with you, and he couldn’t ask for more. Hell, his friends–college friends, always talked about how good sex was. But Jake wasn’t that type of person. He was the person that was willing to wait, sure, he’s had his dreams where stuff happens and he wakes up with the hardest morning wood, but he was willing to wait for you. Because there was nothing more precious than to have your first time with the person he treasured and loved the most.
But yeah, he couldn’t help but to jump right to it when you brought the topic up.
“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed out between kisses. A small whimper escaped from your lips, making Jake get more excited. He pulled you closer to him, moving the gifts just to the edge of the bed, not caring if they fell to the floor. With both arms, he positioned you on top of him, legs bracketing his lap.
Jake’s hands wandered around your body, under your top. You’ve had multiple make out sessions before, it wasn’t like you never did anything. He knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew his favorite parts, and he knew yours too.
With one hand, Jake grabbed the back of your neck to pull down to his lips, and with the other, he lifted your top just enough so his cold fingers touched your bare skin. When you gasped with his touch and your lips parted, he used it as an opportunity to enter with his tongue, exploring your mouth like he always did.
“Tel me if I’m being too rough.” He whispered, pulling away to look at you. “Tell me if you want to slow down.”
Out of breath, he swallowed nervously, eyes flickering down to your red-plumped lips, to give them one more rough kiss, not giving you time to breath. You whimpered into the kiss, making Jake’s hips twitch beneath you.
Your fingers ran through his hair. Make out sessions always ended right there, with you on top of him then falling on his chest. But this time, instead of pulling away, Jake sat and backed up until his back met the bed frame. His fingers moved carefully to the end of your top and looked up at you so innocently.
“Can I take this off?” He asked gently.
Your lips parted, finding a way to answer but you simply nodded, lifting your arms to help him. He raised the top over your shoulder and his hands were immediately on you. He took a second to breathe, to watch how your chest moved. And he couldn’t help but admire you.
Sure, he had seen you in a bikini plenty of times, but it was nothing like this. You were in a private setting, and you had just told him you wanted him to be your first time.
“You’re gorgeous.” He looked up at you, making you smile shyly, suddenly too self-aware that you were getting naked.
“Don’t say stuff like that.” You could feel your cheeks warming up.
His fingers moved to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, your very messy hair, then he smiled. “It’s the truth.”
You leaned down to kiss him again, hands grabbing his face. Jake’s hands moved to your upper body to push your chest against his clothed one, feeling the warmth.
His lips suddenly found your neck, making you gasp at the way he started sucking on it. “Does it feel good? Tell me.” He kissed his way down to your collarbone.
“Yes, it feels really good.” You stuttered.
Jake smiled against your neck, kissing his way up to your lips before pulling away to take his fitted-shirt off. Your hands wasted no seconds to hover over his chest, making him chuckle when he pulled you closer again.
Out of nowhere, he switched positions, you under him, legs still wrapped around him as his body pressed heavy on yours.
“Are you still sure?” You nodded, he kissed your shoulder. “I need words, baby. You gotta communicate.”
You opened your mouth, watching as his hands moved down to the waistband of your pants. “I’m still sure, Jake.” He smiled, and God that smile made you feel so many things.
He pulled your pants down, underwear still on. And again, he couldn’t help but to take a second to admire how you looked; hair was everywhere, lips were plumped, juicy and bright red from all the kissing, chest was heaving, and your body…you were perfect.
When you noticed his eyes hovering everywhere, you couldn’t help but to move your arms to cover yourself, but Jake quickly pulled them away.
“Don’t. You’re beautiful like this.” He leaned closed to press his lips to your jaw, then down to your neck, making you melt under his lips. “You’re so perfect, and you’re my girlfriend. My perfect girlfriend.”
“Shut up.” You chuckled nervously.
He looked up at you and chuckled, “too much?”
You shook your head. “Not at all. I love you.”
“I love you too.” He said before pressing his lips against yours in one sweet kiss.
It didn’t take him long to discard his pants, leaving him in his boxers. You didn’t know what he looked like, he didn’t know what you looked like under all these clothes. But he didn’t care, because it was you, and everything about you was already perfect in his eyes.
“Jake?” You suddenly called, making him stop kissing his way down to your chest.
“Yeah?”
“W-we don’t have a condom.” You whispered, as if there were other people in the room.
Jake awkwardly scratched the back of his head and smiled, “yeah, I might have a few.” You furrowed your eyebrows, making him quickly stand up and rush to his bathroom, stumbling on the way back with a box of what looked like condoms. “My mom gave me these just in case.”
“Your mom?” You repeated.
He nodded.
“That’s so embarrassing.” You covered your face.
Jake dropped the box of condoms on the bed and rushed to you, taking your hands in his to kiss your face. “I thought so too at first, but it's for protection. She cares about you.” He kissed your nose.
You opened your eyes and looked at him with a small smile.
“We don’t have to do this tonight.” He whispered again, “we can always just watch tangled.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
You shook your head, pulling him closer. “I want this. A hundred percent.” You reassured him.
He licked his lips, eyes flickering down to his lips before nodding. He grabbed the box of condoms, opened it, and tore open one of the packs, but before he pulled down his boxers, he looked at you and smiled awkwardly.
“Woah, okay. This is real life.” He mumbled under his breath as finally he pulled his boxers down just enough to reveal his length. Your eyes widened, rested on your elbows as you watched him roll the condom on his cock.
“Uhm, is—is that going to…fit?” You wondered, suddenly scared.
Jake looked up and nodded, ignoring how his cock was basically staring at you. Whatever the definition of big is, it was Jake’s cock, and you couldn’t help but to want to close your legs in fear that you were going to break or something. Shut up, you want this. You shook your head and smiled.
“A-are you okay? Second thoughts?” Jake asked, knees resting on the bed as he grabbed your hand for comfort. “It’s not that big.” He tried to console you.
It really wasn’t. You just have never seen a dick before.
You finally looked up at Jake and nodded, swallowing nervously. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Jake silently cheered, a mix of emotions going through him as he touched your hips gently to pull you closer to him. “It’s going to sting a little bit at first. Are you sure you want this?” He asked again, fingers moving to the waistband of your underwear.
You nodded, “I trust you.”
He pulled your underwear all the way down then quickly settled between your legs, making you bite your lip. He pushed your legs apart, and Jake couldn’t help but to take a small look at your folds. He had never seen you like this, and he loved it. His fingers slid down your wetness, making you arch off the bed, a small gasp leaving your mouth. Jake watched as you closed your eyes, his cock pulsing just by it.
“I’ll be gentle. I promise.” He guided his tip to your entrance, you opened your eyes and nodded. Jake hovered over you, closing the distance between your bodies, pressing his bare chest on yours. His lips found yours for a second, to calm you, to prepare you. And when the tip finally entered you, both of your breaths hitched, he pressed his lips against yours.
“Is this okay?” He asked quietly.
You didn’t move, mumbling a small “yes”. He sighed and trembled above you as he continued entering you, your lips parted open, hands flew to his arm for support. “It hurts a little bit.” You stuttered.
Jake nodded, “I’ll go slow. It’s okay.”
He kissed you passionately, making you melt under his touch, only then realizing he entered you completely. He let out a gasp, making you clench around him. “F-fuck that feels good.” He shuttered over your lips, not moving. “Are you okay? Try to relax.”
“I think so.” You smiled nervously.
“Do you want me to move?”
You nodded, making him sigh in relief. He started rocking his hips, looking down to where your bodies were connecting and parted his lips open. You bit your lip, it was hurting a little, but the pleasure was bigger than the pain. You felt full, and felt tense, but somehow Jake was helping you get through it.
He looked back at you, hips moving as he leaned down to connect your lips with his. It was a messy kiss, but it was perfect. His tongue entered your mouth, savoring all of it. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder whereas your legs wrap around his waist, giving him more access to your body. You gasp at the sudden change of position, moaning into Jake’s mouth. He opened his mouth, pressing his cheek with yours as he breathed heavily.
“This feels so good—so perfect.” He gasped, the pace becoming faster and rougher than it was at first. No words came out of you, just moans and gasps for air. “Tell me how you feel? Is it good? Where do you want me?” He asked between grunts.
You shook your head, “this is perfect. You’re perfect. I love you, Jake.”
He groaned when he heard his name roll out of your tongue, making him rock his hips harder into you. “I can’t believe you’re mine. I love you so much, Y/n. You’re so perfect. And you’re my girl, and I love you.” He whispered, out of breath, close to his release.
You held him tighter, feeling too much too fast. You tensed up, gasped for air. “J-Jake, I-I think—I think I’m close.”
Jake shut his eyes, holding you tighter to help you. “Does it feel good?”
“It feels weird.” You gasped.
“It’s okay. I’m also close, we can come together. Just relax. It’s just me.” You nodded, taking his face in your hand to hold him close to your face. You watch as his expression changed, furrowed eyebrows as if he were in thought, making you pull him close so your lips hovered over his. When he opened his eyes to look at you, you shut yours tightly as the orgasm came over. Your legs trembled around his waist, pussy clenched around his cock, and Jake was the happiest man alive. He came just a few seconds after hearing your moans and seeing your expression change, then collapsed right next to you.
For a moment, Jake simply took the cover out and pulled it over your body then lied next to you in silence. The only noise being both of your heavy breathing. When you didn’t say anything, Jake turned to you, his arm touching your stomach.
“Did I hurt you?”
You looked at him and smiled shyly, shaking your head. “It was amazing, Jake.”
His eyes lightened up, a smile spreading on his face. “Really?” You nodded, making him sigh in relief. “Thank God, I really enjoyed it. Really. It was perfect. And you looked so pretty, I felt like I was dreaming.” He rambled.
You giggled, facing him completely. “I mean, it hurt at first but—that’s how first times are supposed to be most of the time. And I think I had an orgasm, which is also good.” You said, making Jake’s eyes widened.
“About that,” he looked down at himself then laughed awkwardly. “I should probably throw this away and get you cleaned up. Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” He gave you a peck on the lips before standing up.
He rushed to the bathroom with no explanation, and you figured it was the condom he was referring to, so you just lied there with a giant smile on your face as you waited for your boyfriend to come back. When he did, he had a cloth in hand and a glass of water.
He placed the glass of water on the night stand and sat beside you, “let me clean you.” With hesitation, you let him.
Sure, you were still a little shy even though you just lost your virginity, but Jake was someone you trusted.
After he cleaned you up, he grabbed your underwear and gave it to you casually before hopping on the bed and wrapping his arms around you after you put your underwear on. He pulled the covers over the two and rested his head in between your neck and shoulder.
“Thanks for trusting me, Y/n.” He whispered, giving you a lingering kiss on your shoulder. You smiled shyly, feeling the warmth of his chest on your back.
That night was when your relationship became more intimate. On your twentieth birthday, in the middle of summer classes, Sim Jaeyun had his first time with the girl of his dreams. The love of his life. And he seriously couldn’t be happier.
Layla’s owner will I get kicked out of ENU if I climb up to your dorm?
you Jake wth
Layla’s owner Let your hair down Rapunzel!
Jake couldn’t hold in his laughter when he saw you open the window and look down with a shocked expression. “I have flowers!” He whispered-shouted, waving them in the air.
You closed your window and Jake swore he could hear ruffling all the way down. A few minutes later, you came out with your—ironically—rapunzel pajamas.
“Here ya go, my pretty princess.”
You smiled shyly as you grabbed the flowers from his hands and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “What’s the occasion?”
“Nine years ago today, I humiliated myself in front of the prettiest girl in the universe by hitting myself with a basketball.” He smiled proudly, “then that pretty girl helped me get up and didn’t make fun of me. That same day, I realized I was in love with the pretty girl who was way better than me at basketball.”
You bursted into laughter, covering your face with the flowers. “That’s so cute, Jake!” You hit his arm, all of a sudden shy. “How can you remember that?”
“Love can do such thing, gorgeous.”
You rolled your eyes and threw your arms around his shoulders, making him huff. “You’re so cute.”
“I get that a lot from a very specific person.”
“Hmm,” you hummed as you moved your arms to his waist and looked slightly up to meet with his eyes. “I wonder who it is…”
He moved his lips teasingly, leaning down to press his lips with yours in a delicate kiss. You smiled into the kiss, and he smiled as well, making you pull away and just kiss his cheek.
“I can’t believe you came all the way here just to give flowers for that.” You said, making him gasp.
“Hey, it’s a very special date for me! It’s when I realized I liked girls!” You furrowed your eyebrows, “that sounded weird.”
“It did.” You both laughed
All of the sudden, a flashlight flickered in your direction, making you both look to your right and see one of the guards walking up to you with an angered look.
“What are you two doing out here this late?” The old man asked.
Jake quickly raised his arms in surrender. “Sir, I swear in my life, I’m not harassing this young girl!” He crossed his finger and held it in the air. “Scout’s honor!”
You snorted and hit his arm, “Dude! Sir,” you turned to the guard and smiled shyly. “Sorry, he’s my boyfriend. He just came to drop some flowers.” You explained politely.
“At 10PM?” He raised his eyebrows.
You pursed your lips into a thin line and nodded, “I know. But he was just leaving!”
“I was?” Jake wondered.
You rolled your eyes and pushed him off, “bye!”
He pouted dramatically, blowing a bunch of kisses in the air as he jogged backwards, looking incredibly silly. When disappeared, you turned to the guard and smiled, “He’s weird, I know.”
“You kids these days.” He shook his head as he walked away, making you laugh it off and walk back up to your dorm.
JAKE ALWAYS believed you lived in a happy household. For the longest time he thought that, because seeing you and your dad smiling all the time, it made it seem that it was all good.
When you told him about your mother cheating on your father, he noticed how badly it affected you. He knew your father was the person you looked up to the most, so seeing him hurting, hurt you, and seeing you hurting, hurt Jake. He didn’t know what it was like to have divorced parents, all his friends’ parents were still together, so he wasn’t exactly sure how to take care of you. But he was there, because you once said his presence was already enough.
“I just don’t understand why she would do something like that.” You shook your head in disbelief, head lying on Jake’s chest.
You had gotten back from Chuseok weekend with your family. Jake was supposed to go as well, but he had work so he had to skip dinner with his parents. Now, instead of arriving straight to your dorm, Jake picked you up from the train station and brought you to his apartment.
He never thought he was good at comforting people. He was always the type of person who would awkwardly pat someone’s back after spilling the most devastating news. But with you, just by holding you, you felt comfort.
“Like why couldn’t she just divorce him?” You wondered out loud. “Cheating is so dumb. You can just break up with your partner, free yourself from whatever. Why cheat? What fun is there in betraying the person you’re supposedly in love with?” You looked up at the ceiling.
Jake agreed with you. He obviously did.
“It’s an ego thing, babe.” He said lazily.
You nodded, “right? I guess it makes sense for my mom. She’s always been like that. But why my dad? He’s so nice! He’s the nicest man ever, how can you break his heart like that? I’m sure he would’ve been okay with her divorcing him in the first place—sure, he’d be heartbroken, but he would’ve understood.” You rambled, “and the worst part is that my mom thinks she has some control over me, telling me to stay out of it. How can I? She was screaming at my dad when the angry one was supposed to be him. She’s got nothing to be angry about. It’s so annoying.” You covered your face in desperation.
Jake grabbed your hands and held them close to his lips. “Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. This isn’t your fault.”
“I know but,” you paused, exhaling loudly. “I feel bad for my dad.”
He smiled down at you, kissing your hands. “I’m sure he knows that. But he wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself over something like that, especially if it’s because of him. You know your dad.” He comforted you.
You bit your bottom lip and groaned, turning away from him and hugging one of his legs. “Can we just watch Tangled?”
Jake smiled even though you couldn’t see him. “Of course we can.”
JAKE LIKED being taken care of, especially by his girlfriend. Especially when he’s drunk.
It wasn’t a normal thing for him to get this hammered, really, he didn’t even drink like that. But when the semester was over and his final grade got rounded to a ninety-five, he just had to celebrate. Of course, celebrations like that always ended with you taking him to his apartment and him mumbling incoherent things about you.
“Seriously, you’re like the best girlfriend I’ve ever had.” He spilled his words as he tipsily walked over to his room with you helping him. “You’re the only girlfriend I've ever had, and I’m okay with that. People always say having a lot of girlfriends is cool but I don’t think that. I’ve only ever been in love once, and I still am. Her name is L/n Y/n. I remember when I first met her.”
You smiled subconsciously, already knowing where this was going. There had been a few times where he would drunkenly tell you—as if you were a stranger, about the love of his life—you. You never got tired of hearing about it.
“Like, she’s just so smart and hilarious—oh gosh, she’s the funniest girl ever. She always makes me laugh, and then—“ he chuckles as he drops to his bed. “Woah, this bed is comfy. Hey, can you get my girlfriend? I really want to sleep next to her.” The room was dark, not bothering to turn the lights off, you started taking his shoes off, making Jake’s eyes widen. “Woah, hey lady! I have a girlfriend!”
“I’m just taking your shoes off.” You snorted, not helping it.
Jake lifted his heavy head and gasped. “Y/n? How long have you been here, baby? I missed you.” He pouted.
“You’re so cute, Jake.” You grabbed his cheeks and squeezed them dramatically.
He smiled shyly, turning his face away from you. “My girlfriend thinks I’m cute.” He muttered under his breath as you walked away to put his shoes in the closet.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sobbed into his pillow without you noticing. “Like seriously, I’m such a failure without you by my side. Without you, I’d be known as the basketball-magnet.”
You snorted as you walked over to the other side of the bed. You gently hopped on the bed, pulled the cover above you both, and turned to Jake. “Get some sleep, pretty boy.”
“Yo quiero a Maluma.” He mumbled, back facing you as you wrapped your arms around his body. “Yo amo a Y/n so mucho.”
You laughed quietly, cheek pressed against his shoulder.
THE SECOND semester of Junior year was definitely hitting Jake harder. He had signed up for more classes so he would have a lighter senior year and wasn’t as stressed as he was today. He was really trying. He didn’t like seeing you so bummed out because of his cancellation of plans or postponements. He wished there was something he could do to make it up to you, but he was just too stressed.
“Did you see the trailer for Sinners? It looks cool.” You said, looking down at your phone. “We should watch it when it comes out. Michael B Jordan’s in it.”
“Uh, yeah totally.” He responded blandly.
You looked up from your phone and saw Jake completely concentrated on his textbook. “What are you doing?” You asked curiously.
“I,” he paused, flipping the pages to his textbook then typing on his laptop. “Am finishing a project that is due this weekend. I told my team I’d have it done by today, just need to re-check some stuff.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “You’re doing the work all by yourself?” He glanced at you and nodded. “You’re already handling like eight classes. You’re being too hard on yourself, you know?” You scooted closer to the edge of the bed.
“It’s fine. I’d rather do the work by myself if it means it’ll be correct.” He shrugged casually.
You nodded, “if there’s anything else I can help you with…any math homework? English?”
At that, he looked at you and smiled, a smile that could only mean he was relieved. “I forgot you’re good at English. Yes, you can help me with English. I haven’t finished this assignment that’s due tomorrow.”
You bent down to grab his backpack and took his English notebook out and with a smile, you winked. “One English assignment on the way.”
Jake quickly pulled you in for a kiss. “You’re the best.”
You scrunched your face and continued his assignment in silence, feeling happy that there was something you could help him with.
Another thing Jake loved about you, is that you understood him. You put in as much effort as he did, and that’s how you balanced each other out. That’s one of the many reasons why he loved you.
“HEY, JAKE.”
Jake looked up from his seat, putting the last of his stuff on his back pack. “Hey, Nari. What’s up?”
She smiled when he called her name, “my birthday is this Friday, I was wondering if you wanted to come to this small get-together as a celebration. It’s just a few friends.” She insisted.
Jake frowned. He wasn’t that close to her. At least not close enough to be invited to a birthday party. He had been partnered up with her a couple of times in this course. So he had gotten to know her a bit. If he said no, he’d feel bad.
“Oh, sure. Is it okay if I bring my girlfriend? I’m not exactly close to any of your friends and I wouldn’t want to take much of your time.” He asked.
Whenever Jake got invited to something, his first thought was if he could bring you. Not because he thought you’d get jealous—never that, but because he would rather have you by his side in public events.
“Oh, sorry. There’s a limited number of people that can go and inviting someone else would go over the limit. I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t mind.” Nari tilted her head, twirling her hair in her finger.
Jake frowned but nodded still. “That’s okay. I’ll be there. Happy birthday in advance, anyway.” He smiled at the girl, ready to walk away when she stopped him.
“Oh, are you going to the cafeteria?” She asked, walking beside him.
He shook his head. “Well, technically yes. But I’m going to go look for Y/n—my girlfriend, so we can eat together.”
“That’s so cute.” She giggled, making him frown.
Cute. Only you called him that, it felt weird hearing the word come out of another girl’s mouth.
“I’m going that way too, mind if I join you for now?”
He nodded, not seeing anything wrong with it.
Right when they walked out of the building, Nari stepped on the wrong foot, making her stumble and grab onto Jake’s arm for support. Jake, like the kind person he is, let her hold on to him until she was balanced.
“Are you okay?”
She giggled and nodded, fixing her hair. “I’m so sorry, I'm so clumsy.”
“It’s okay. They messed up the steps there.” He looked back just for a second before looking ahead, not noticing how Nari was still holding him.
“Hi!”
Jake recognized that voice immediately. He turned around and saw you, and it was weird how he wanted to smile at you and show you every tooth, but he ended up nodding.
“Hey.”
Beside him, Nari let go of Jake’s arm and ignored you, giving you a small sour smile, making you smile fade away.
You asked Jake if he was okay, to which he nodded and leaned down to kiss you. You turned to the girl beside him and smiled, “I’m Y/n. Jake’s girlfriend.”
“Obviously I know that.” She scoffed before she turned to Jake. “I’ll see you later?” She dragged her hand on his arm, making you frown.
Jake nodded, making you look between them as you watched him watch her walk away.
“Oh, you’re going out?”
Like something snapped in him, he nodded. “Uh, yeah. It’s a group thing. Last-minute invite to Nari’s birthday party.”
“Nari.” You repeated her name. “Yeah, that’s cool. I can study by myself.”
He gave you a small smile then threw his arm over your shoulder.
“I DON'T know, man. It was weird.” Jake shook his head as he threw the basketball on the hoop, making it. “It’s like one second I was there, and then the other one I wasn’t.”
Heeseung furrowed his eyebrows, catching the ball. “Who have you been hanging out with? I’ve heard some creepy stuff about witches around campus.” He commented.
Jake let the ball bounce on the floor. “What?”
“Yeah, like,” he paused, turning to him. “Last semester. You know Sakura? Some girl cursed her boyfriend or whatever. Creepy shit. He called her all types of names.” He shook his head as he grabbed the ball from the floor. “I was there when it happened. What’s her name? Naomi? Nari?”
“Shit. I have a girl named Nari in my class. I went to her birthday party yesterday.” He froze.
Heeseung kissed his teeth, “yeah, bro. You’re cooked. There’s like a rumor she’s done this since high school, and that she goes for the lover boys or whatever.” He snorted, “damn, you might be the perfect target.”
“Shut up. Don’t say that.”
“Maybe she’s got you under her spell already.”
He continually shivered, and gasped out loud when his phone buzzed. When he unlocked it, it was a message from the devil herself. Kim Nari Econ. “Dude, she just sent me a text.”
Heeseung’s eyes widened as he rushed to his side and snatched the phone. “”Can we meet up? I have something important to show you.” You’re not like– going right? Bro, she just sent a creepy ass location. I’m coming with.” He shook his head.
“You’re not. It’s not a creepy location.”
“It’s literally in the middle of nowhere.”
Jake tilted his head to the side. “It’s on campus!”
“Exactly.”
He shook his head in disbelief, “I’ll just go see her, it’s probably nothing. And if she says she’s in love with me or something…I’ll just reject her respectfully and tell Y/n about it. How it should be.” He said casually, making Heeseung sigh.
“I wish I could be more like you, bro. You inspire me.”
Jake snorted, throwing the ball back to him for a last time before dabbing him up and leaving the court. “I’ll let you know what happens.”
“Praying for you already.” He crossed his heart.
“GIVE IT to her since you want her so badly you accuse me of things you know I’d never—in my life—do to you.”
Jake swore he would never hurt you. Hell, you even told him not to make that promise because you already knew he would never do that, because he would hurt more. But why did he feel so empty and not at all sad when he saw you walk away from him?
It was all a blur. But he wasn’t crying. It’s like he didn’t care. Sim Jaeyun didn’t care that he hurt you. What type of witchcraft is that? What happened to the Jake that would rather hurt himself than hurt you?
His friends asked themselves that for the longest time after you two broke up and you left for New York. Even when they told him you left he didn’t care.
“Why do you keep bringing her up when she’s his past? She broke up with him.”
Jake wasn’t even part of the conversation. It was just Nari versus the group of boys in front of her.
“Like you don’t know the reason why, Nari.” Riki spat, “besides, no one brought her name up, it’s not my fault you’re so obsessed you know when we’re talking about her.” He rolled his eyes.
“Because you’re always mentioning her. “Noona this”, “noona that”. God, Riki, she’s not even your sister.” She scoffed, holding on to Jake’s arm.
Riki held his breath, calming himself down. “You’re so lucky I don’t beat up women.” He muttered under his breath, making Sunoo and Jungwon cover their mouths in pure shock.
“What did you just say?” Nari raised her voice.
“Do you really want me to repeat myself?”
Before Riki could make another move, Jay came in with a plate of popcorn and snacks, snapping Jake back to reality. “Here, here. Nari, are you sure you want to be here? It’s about to be chaos.”
“I’m sure. Jakey wants me here.”
“I doubt it.” Riki snorted, bumping shoulders with Sunoo who just looked away.
“It’s just, well—it gets a little crazy in her when we play. And you’re the only girl….” Heeseung decided to speak up, hands already moving to grab the best controller.
“You’re seriously kicking me out?”
He glanced at her and shrugged. “Uh, if that’s how you see it.”
She turned to Jake, who was simply grabbing popcorn and breathing really loudly. “Are you letting your friend talk to me like that?” She pouted, making the guys look at them in disgust.
He scratched his eyebrow and sighed. “Uh, actually I think I might just go back to bed. I have an interview early in the morning.” He unhooked his arm from Nari and ran his fingers through his hair. “Hey, am I going crazy or is there something important going on tomorrow? I’ve been trying to think of what it is but nothing comes up. It’s like my mind went blank.”
Everyone looked at each other then turned to Nari who shrugged. “It’s probably nothing important, Jakey.”
Riki held back a gag, motioning them to move. “Just leave. Seriously.”
Both Jake and Nari stood up, dragging him to the exit without saying goodbye to the others. When they disappeared, Sunoo shook his head.
“Something’s seriously wrong with that woman.”
Riki hit his chest. “Dude, there’s no way he could just forget Y/n noona’s birthday like that. And he’s been acting so bitchy lately. Like he’s brain dead or something."
Jay sighed, taking a seat next to Heeseung. “Maybe he just changed.” He said.
Jungwon sat next to him and grabbed the popcorn from him. “Hyung, people don’t change that fast. Jake hyung specifically. He was just talking about wanting to take her to Cancun for their fourth year anniversary and now they’re broken up. It’s weird.”
“Totally.” The others agreed.
“JAKEY, you crazy ex-girlfriend has been threatening me non-stop on twitter.” Nari pouted.
Jake glanced at her and sighed. “Just ignore her.”
“How can I? She leaves mean posts on everything I post. Can’t you talk to her or something?”
He exhaled loudly, grabbed his phone and went to your contact.
Jake hi
He confronted you through texts, because for some reason, he couldn’t face you. It was strange, how just a few months ago, he couldn’t be a second away from you and now he’s telling you to stop bothering the girl next to him.
“She says she doesn’t even use twitter so she wouldn’t be able to threaten you, maybe it’s a bot.” He put his phone down, not really caring.
Nari scoffed. “You’re just going to leave it? What the hell, Jake?”
“What do you want me to do?” He asked, “just block her. Hate comments are stupid.”
Nari didn’t understand. Jake was supposed to be all over you, that was the plan. No one was supposed to intervene. Why did you have to come back and ruin everything? What did she have to do to keep you away from him?
WHEN JAKE ended things with Nari, it felt like something in him snapped, like he was finally himself again. He felt lighter, like a heavy weight was lifted away from his shoulders and he could finally walk normally again.
But then there was you, all the memories, all the moments you and him had, they reappeared out of nowhere. Like in the movie inside out, they popped out. Like they were taken away from him for a moment but they were back. And that was a horrible and emotional moment for him.
That night it happened, he went to the furthest bar to drink. He had just turned twenty-one just a few days ago, he could drink his feelings away. He could get drunk and forget all about the girl whose hurt he broke for whatever reason.
What did you even do to him?
Why did he ever accuse you of such things?
He knew you.
So why?
He kept thinking about it as he drowned in shots. Why all of a sudden did he start thinking of you differently, why did he think you would ever hurt him like that.
It was stupid.
It was immature.
He was disgusted with himself.
“Hey, kid. Are you okay?”
He looked up and smiled drunkenly, nodding. “Well you don’t look it.”
“I broke my girl’s heart. Like deeply, too many cuts—cut her heart in half, probably.” He shook his head, “well, not literally. I guess in a way, but not literally. She’s alive, is what I mean.”
“You’re young. I’m sure you’ll fix things.” The man beside him comforted him.
He scrunched his face in disagreement. No one was good at comforting him like you were. And he hated that at this moment, you weren’t here. And it was because of him.
“I doubt it. I messed everything up. I don’t even remember why. But I know I did.” He played with the empty glass.
“Maybe you should text her. If you know you messed up and you’re willing to try to fix things, she should at least know.” He suggested.
Jake looked at the older man and smiled, “you’re a wise man, anyone ever told ya that?”
“Many times, kid.”
He snorted and grabbed his phone, sweaty fingers touching the screen as he sent you those incoherent–yes, even in texts–messages.
A few minutes later, you responded and told him to stay where he was. Not like he was planning on moving anyways. But the security guard had helped him out, stayed with him. He even advised him to maybe slow things down and fix himself before he tried to fix things with you.
Somehow everyone knew what he should do but him.
“There she is!” Jake excitedly pointed right at you the moment you pulled over, making him realize you were actually there, for him. You didn’t even say anything when Jake made his way to you, again, stumbling on his feet. All you could do was look away, tapping your fingers on the wheel anxiously. And all he could do was watch as you drove back to his lonely apartment.
It was obvious you were disappointed in him, he could see it from a mile away, even while drunk. Because other than your father, he was the only one who could see right through you. And he hated not being able to say something, because that wasn’t his role anymore.
CHRISTMAS BREAK was going well for Jake. He had left school a little early, he knew his grades were good so he didn’t bother waiting until he got his final grade back. He just cared about going back home and having a conversation with his mom. Other than you, he sought comfort in his mom, and it’s not in that weird mommy's boy way–his mom’s someone who first showed him how to love. And also, he kind of wanted to chat with someone else, but he wasn’t sure it was the best idea.
Your dad was someone special to Jake. Not just because he’s your dad, but because he’s always treated him like his own kid, in a non-weird way. The first time he sought his help was when he got into a fight with a boy from school in his second year of high school. His own dad couldn’t make it that day, neither could his mom, so he called the person he trusted after them–your father.
“Please don’t be mad at me. Y/n already is.” He walked out of the office, ashamed.
Your father patted his shoulder and guided him to the exit of the building. “Why’s my daughter mad?”
He glanced at him but shook his head. “I know the principal said I punched the kid just because, but there’s an explanation.” He sighed, “He was saying stuff about Y/n and at first I tried to stay calm because I know she doesn’t like when people fight, but then he said something really disrespectful and I…I got mad, and that’s when I punched him.” He confessed.
The older man nodded, “I don’t see how that’s a bad thing. Sure, violence isn’t the right answer. But when it’s someone you deeply care about, you tend to take things personally. Isn’t that right?” Jake nodded, “Why did my daughter get mad though?”
“She said I should just leave it alone because she didn’t want me to get in trouble for a stupid comment. But sir,” He turned completely to him. “It wasn’t just a stupid comment. It was disrespectful. But even if it was just a stupid comment, I would’ve confronted him either way, he’s such a jerk. He’s always being mean to people.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the school.
Your father chuckled, “Well, Jake. You did get in trouble, but the boy got what he deserved. I saw him, his nose was bleeding.” He scrunched his nose, making Jake chuckle. “I’m glad my daughter has someone like you. She’s a strong girl herself, but sometimes she’s too kind and doesn’t see that the world can be cruel.”
Jake nodded at his words, his words cutting deeper than he thought. “Now, your parents will be really mad when they get home. Want to get some tteokbokki?”
He chuckled and smiled, “Yes, sir, I would like that.”
“Let’s go, kiddo.”
Jake hadn’t seen your father since you broke up. He couldn’t, and he shouldn’t. He wasn’t going to try and take away the person you treasured the most from you, just so he could have someone to talk to. But sure, as if God was on his side, as he was walking to your house to deliver his christmas gift and something else, a car approached him.
“Jake?”
He froze when he realized who it was. He saw the car window roll down completely and instantly did a ninety degree bow, making your father let out a laugh. “What are you doing out here in this cold weather, kid?” He asked.
Jake glanced at your house then back at him. “I-nothing, just walking.”
Before he could hide the gift in his hand–not that he even could since it was big, your father pulled over and signalled him to hop on the car.
“That for my daughter?” He gestured to the gift, making him nod awkwardly. “Hmm.”
“I know we’re broken up but–I don’t know,” He shrugged, really not knowing what to say.
Your dad nodded, “It’s been a while since we’ve talked, huh?” Jake nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
He looked at him for a second, a small smile forming in his lips. “You should talk to her.”
Jake’s eyes lightened up, “Are you sure?”
“I think you should help her tonight. She’s a bit down, I had a fight with her mother and she locked herself in her bedroom. Ruined her Christmas. I left before I even talked to her. Maybe you should try.” He explained.
The younger man frowned, “Is–Is everything okay?”
Your dad nodded. “With her? Not really. She needs someone right now.”
He shook his head, hesitating. “I don’t think I’m the best choice for her to be with right now. We’re not exactly on good terms and I don’t want to disturb her or ruin her night even more.” He rambled, shaking his head then looking down at his gift. “No offense, sir, but I shouldn’t even be talking to you. You're like– her favorite person and I don’t want her to think that I’m trying to steal you away or something.”
He snorted, “I’m sure she won’t think that.”
Jake puckered his lips out.
“You can talk to me, you know? I might be more judgmental because you did hurt my daughter badly but I’m still here for you, kiddo.”
At his words, Jake relaxed in his seat. He couldn’t help but to feel guilty about talking to your father, but he wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t being paid to listen, and he offered that.. “I love your daughter, sir. I really really do, and I know you probably don’t believe me and that’s totally fine, but I don’t know what the hell happened to me that day. I don’t know why I called her those horrible names. I seriously don’t. And you know, if you want to punch me, you are free to do so. No one did that to me when I called her names and I feel a little bit hypocritic. And I’m sure you want to punch me and hurt me because I hurt Y/n so bad she had to leave the country. I don’t even remember her leaving, she was just gone. And for some reason, I don’t think I cared–again, feel free to punch me–but during the months she was gone, I felt like I was empty, I don't even remember anything about this summer. And when she came back, I started feeling again, all sorts of emotions, and it was weird.” He paused for air, then sighed. “I know it’ll take a lot of effort and time for her to forgive me, and I know that even if she does, she’ll never forget those words. And that will haunt me forever, but I just want to try for her, you know? I have been going to therapy for about a month now and I think it’s working. But sometimes when I’m talking, I remember it’s paid therapy so I just go back to square one because does my therapist actually cares about how I’m feeling? Sorry, this isn’t about me–the point is, I really want to try for Y/n, I really do.”
Your dad stared at the out of breath boy and smiled. “It’s good that you’re working on yourself before anything. That’s how it should be.”
“You think?”
He nodded. “Have you ever heard of the saying “how can you love someone if you don't even love yourself?” Jake nodded, “It applies here, sort of. How are you going to try to work things out with Y/n if you haven't worked things out with yourself?”
Jake stared at the older man, “but what if by the time I’m better, she’s with someone else?”
That was a question he never asked himself before until now, and he just realized how painful the scenario was.
“Then you learn to let her go.”
Your dad responded, and Jake’s breath hitched. “My daughter–she’s very hard on herself, but she has her standards set. If one day she decides to forgive you, even if it’s years from now…then it means you changed for the better, and not just for her. But for yourself.”
“What if the only reason I want to change for the better is for her?”
“Then you’re being selfish.”
Jake looked away, holding the gift tighter. “Don’t ask for her forgiveness. Show her that you’re willing to become better. That you’re willing to wait, however long it takes.”
For the first time in months, Jake realized the lengths he’d go for you, the time he was willing to wait. It was kind of stupid that he needed your dad’s help to figure it out, but still.
“You’re a great dad, sir.”
The older man chuckled, “I’ve been told.”
JAKE'S HEART had broken when he read the message you had sent him after Christmas break, he understood why, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. The therapy sessions weren’t helping either, since all his therapist wanted to talk about was about the present. Jake wanted to talk about you.
You were considered the past.
And he hated that.
Because his therapist was right.
“How are we feeling today?”
“Relaxed, I guess.”
The therapist nodded, writing down something in her journal. “Why are we feeling relaxed today, Jake?”
“Uh, the project I mentioned last week? I finished yesterday.” He said, sighing. “Now I just have to worry about the up-coming exams. But in comparison to the project…I feel more relaxed–I don’t have any work to do.”
The therapist raised her eyebrows and smiled, “That’s good to hear, Jake. It must feel good to take that weight off of your chest.”
“I guess.”
“What about future plans? Spring break is coming up.”
He nodded, patting his sweaty hands on his lap. “I’m going to Australia for an interview. I’m trying to get an internship at this company.”
The woman raised her eyebrows and smiled. “That’s amazing news. Is it something you like?”
“Yeah, I see myself in that field. Before I moved here, my dad used to work there and I really like what he told me about it.”
She smiled, writing something down. “So you’re following your dreams, that’s good.”
He nodded.
“What about short term plans? Do you have any plans for the weekend?” She asked, writing something down.
Jake shook his head, “My friends are hanging out but I don’t feel like going out tonight.”
“Why not?” She wondered.
He sighed and shrugged, “I just want to rest and watch a movie. Something peaceful.”
The woman nodded, “What movie?”
Jake chuckled, “I don’t know…Tangled?”
The woman sighed, putting her note pad down.
“You’ve mentioned that movie a few times these past sessions.” She recalled, making him smile awkwardly.
“I-It’s a good movie.” He shrugged, keeping casual.
It’s in fact, a movie he only watched with you. It was your movie. You two even dressed up as Rapunzel and Flynn once in your freshmen year of college. It wasn’t just a movie to him, it was you.
“Let’s try something.”
He sighed in defeat.
IT WAS April seventeenth and Jake had hesitated but ended up driving back to his hometown for one reason. Your dad. He found out a few weeks ago about the incident when you visited him back on Valentine's Day, his parents had accidentally brought up during a family dinner. He pretended not to listen, figuring out that maybe it was best if he kept quiet.
But his birthday was in two days, and he wanted to at least wish him a good day, ask him how he’s doing. Just the simple stuff.
“The house is nice.”
Your dad chuckled as he let Jake in, “it is, isn’t it?”
He looked down at the boy’s hand, which was carrying flowers, and he couldn’t help but to awe, making Jake blush in embarrassment. “A birthday gift.” He explained.
Your dad smiled and pulled him into a hug. “Thanks, kid.” He patted the boy’s back.
When they pulled away, your dad quickly walked over to the kitchen to grab a vase and pour water on it before taking the flowers from Jake. “See, I’ve never been good at taking care of flowers but I do try to keep them alive as long as I can.” He pursed his lips into a thin line, making Jake smile.
“It’s all good. It’s hard to keep them alive most of the time.” He agreed.
The older man nodded, taking a seat on the dining table, gesturing to him to sit as well. Jake took a seat and looked around the house. There were pictures of you everywhere, with your family, with your friends, and one in specific that made his breath hitch. It was the picture your dad had taken of you and Jake on your graduation day, the one where he was trying to kiss your cheek and you were pushing him away. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
“I can’t believe you kids are graduating from college already.”
He glanced at the man, now noticing he had been watching the same picture as him and let out a small laugh. “Yeah, it’s crazy.”
Jake’s eyes wandered around the room. After the conversation with his parents, he decided to ask Jay about it, figuring out that maybe you talked to him, and he mentioned to him what really happened on Valentine's day with your dad–not some rumor passing around, and he couldn’t help but to feel bad. How long has your dad been going through this alone? Does he really have no one to help him?
“Can I ask you something?” He nodded, making him sigh. “I know it’s been a long time since she came back but…one of my friends mentioned that she came back to Korea for personal reasons.” He paused, turning to your dad. “And I heard what happened when she visited you…are you getting sick again?” His voice came out shaky.
The man exhaled and gave him a sad smile, making Jake frown and nod. “I would prefer it if we kept this between us…she doesn’t know.”
“Don’t you think she’s figured it out by now?” He wondered.
He shook his head, “She doesn’t know it’s terminal.”
Jake looked away, tears beginning to form in his eyes. Your dad sighed, scooting his chair closer to the boy. “It’s alright, kid. It was a matter of time. And everything’s good right now.” He reassured, patting his shoulder.
Jake shook his head, wiping his face before he looked at him. “Do you know how much time you have? Is it less than a year?” He stuttered.
“When my daughter took me to the hospital, they told me I had less than five months left.” He responded sadly, making Jake shake his head.
“So three months?” He asked in a very low whisper, as if he were afraid you would hear, making the man nod. “That’s too soon. You can’t do that to Y/n… isn’t there something the doctors can do? Can’t you take something to live longer?” He rambled, lips quivering. “Shouldn’t you be going to the hospital more often? Maybe if they rerun the tests they might find something they can fix–”
“–there’s nothing they can do, kid.”
“How would you know that if you haven't gone to the hospital in two months? What if you’re healthy now and they can do something about it?” Tears spilled from his eyes, causing your dad to frown sadly and pull him into a hug. “Y-you can’t do that to her. She’s going through so much already, if you leave her…she won’t have anyone else.”
“She’ll have you.” He whispered against the boy’s head.
Jake couldn’t believe what was happening. Why did it have to be like this?
JAKE WOULDN'T call it stalking. He wasn’t aware you two still shared a lot of the same likings, but he was glad you did, because it meant he could try and protect you from afar. He didn’t have to do anything, just seeing you smile made him realize maybe you were doing okay.
It was May now, and like Jake, you and the others were getting prepared to graduate. He found out from his friends that after graduating, you were becoming a preschool teacher, just like you always wanted. And that you were planning on taking the LEET to attend Law school after graduating. And he was happy for you, he wanted to jump in your arms and congratulate you with the messiest kisses all over your face. But he stayed away. He noticed how happy you were, without him. And he was okay with that. To an extent, at least.
“I swear, this final is going to kill me.”
Sunghoon groaned loudly enough to earn a few stares from the other students. Jake scrunched his nose and buried his face in the large text book. “Seriously, why do I have to study? I’m becoming a kids’ hockey coach.”
“Just shut up, dude.” Heeseung mumbled against his pillow. The group of boys stared at the older one, wondering where the hell did he get a pillow from.
“Psst.”
Both Sunghoon and Jake looked behind their shoulders and saw Riki on the table next to them with a smirk on his face, nodding towards the library entrance. There stood Yunjin and Jay, laughing at something he said, whilst behind them, you walked in with Donghyuck by your side, pointing at something in your textbook with that expression he knew was of you being completely stressed.
You looked incredible, you were glowing. Even if it was an exaggeration. It was like the sun hit you just perfectly, he couldn’t help but stare.
“Wanna bet those two are going to date by graduation?” Riki whispered loudly enough for them to hear, referring to Jay and Yunjin.
“Nah. I’ve made so many bets and lost all of them.” Sunghoon shook his head.
“Puuuuusy.”
He rolled his eyes at the younger one.
Against his pillow, Heeseung mumbled. “I give it a year.”
Riki frowned, "That's so long, I’ll forget the bet by then. But fine, you're sooo going to lose.” He giggled diabolically, making Jake shake his head with a small laugh escaping his lips. Coincidentally, his eyes found yours in the room full of people, and he saw you smile at him–that flat smile that even though was only meant to be a form of politeness, made Jake’s heart flutter.
“Noona, can you help me study for my final? It’s the government class you took last year.” Riki flipped the pages when you took a seat down in front of him.
You were across from him, and he tried really hard not to look at you. So again, he buried his head in the textbook.
GRADUATION DAY came faster than he expected. May was about to end, and all Jake could think about was how much time your dad had left. It could be any day now, and his heart would stop anytime he thought about it.
But he was here today with you, that was all he needed to be alright. Your dad was at your graduation, and a weight lifted from Jake’s shoulders.
“Y/n L/n.”
The loudest cheering came from your dad and Riki, what a shock. Jake clapped for you, even though he was in the science major section. And a lot of people clapped for you too, making him smile proudly. He didn’t have to clap for you, you wouldn’t even have noticed if he didn’t because of how far he was from the stage. But he wanted to. When you waved at the crowd and blew a kiss, the smile on his face was huge. When it was his turn to walk up the stage and receive his certificate, the first thing he did was look for you. You gave him a thumbs up and a smile and of course he gave them back.
“Okay, say cheese!”
Your dad kept the tradition of taking as many pictures as he could at your graduation. After taking his, Jake’s attention was on you and how happy you looked smiling at the camera, at your dad. He swallowed, remembering what he told him just a month ago, but he tried to shake it off.
“Where are your friends, hon?” Your dad asked you, looking around. When he found Jake, who was also looking around, he smiled. “Why don’t you take one with your friends from high school?” He suggested, “Lily’s not here but the others are.”
You nodded, looking for Jay and Sunghoon. When you found them, you waved at them to come over. Obviously they rushed to your side, but your dad stopped them from hugging you.
“Where’s Jake?”
The boys looked at each other and stayed silent, glancing at you. You looked around and saw Jake giving an awkward dab up to one of the guys in his class, making you smile a little. With no hesitation, you walked up to him and tapped his shoulder. When he turned around, his heart stopped.
“Hey.” He breathed out.
“Hi.” You smiled at him with nothing but sincerity then looked behind your shoulder where your dad and the boys were cheesing. “My dad wants us to take a picture.” You said, smiling awkwardly.
He started nodding before you even finished the sentence, making you giggle as you made your way back to the others. Your dad set up the camera and hummed, seeing how you and Jake were on each corner. “I want to recreate the picture so…Sunghoon and Jay in the corner, then Y/n stand next to Sunghoon, Jake next to Jay.” The group repositioned themselves.
Your arm wrapped around Sunghoon’s waist, his going around your shoulder, interlocking it with Jay’s to pull everyone closer. Jake looked down at you, hesitating to put his arm around you.
“Hey,” You looked at him. He gestured to his hand, “Is it okay if I…?”
You nodded, even taking a step closer to him. Jake let out a shaky breath and let his arm fall to your waist, hand still somewhat extended without actually touching your hip, and turned to the camera.
“Okay, say cheese!”
“Cheese!”
Your dad snapped the pictures, smiling hard when he noticed everyone’s smiles. His heart felt heavy, but watching you smile next to those you grew up with, made it okay. “Okay, okay, funny faces now!”
You, Sunghoon, and Jay all stuck your tongue out, and Jake, always looking to copy your expressions, turned to you for a second to copy your funny face, but ended up cheesing when he saw you. Not realizing your dad was already snapping the pictures, you glanced at Jake and laughed hard, looking away with the happiest smile. It felt like you were back in high school.
“Okay, everyone gather around!” Your dad pushed the rest of your friends to be visible in the camera. Shotaro and Donghyuck stood right behind you and Jake, pulling a peace sign above your heads playfully. Yizhuo stood beside Sunghoon who hugged her with the biggest grin on his face. And Yunjin stood beside Jay, his arm wrapped around her waist to pull her closer to the group.
“Aww, can we get in on that?” Riki frowned dramatically.
Everyone laughed at the boy, but when your dad nodded, he ran to be in front of you and Jake with rockstar signs, whilst Jungwon, Heeseung, and Sunoo bent down in front with smiles on their faces.
“Okay, say cheese!”
“Cheese!”
Click.
“Okay, now everyone goes with their own families.” Everyone chuckled and walked away, each to their families. Except your dad grabbed Jake and you by the shoulder and gave you a knowing smile. “I know it’s awkward, but please let me take a picture of you two.”
You rolled your eyes, yet the smile on your face and your reddened ears thought otherwise. Jake just followed your lead, standing next to you awkwardly. When you wrapped your arm around his waist, he let out a breath of relief, placing his arm around your shoulder with a smile on his face. You both simultaneously put your hands up with a peace sign, and smiled at the camera. A real smile.
Your dad snapped the picture and smiled, “So cute.”
Jake chuckled, letting go of you with a smile. “Congratulations, Y/n.”
You blinked and nodded, a smile growing on your face. “Thanks, Jake. You too.”
“I’m so proud of you both.” Your dad placed a hand on each of your shoulders, making you chuckle awkwardly.
Jake felt happy, but a part of him still knew your dad was doing all of this, making you take pictures together, pretending it’s all okay, because he knew it was almost his time.
When he cleared his throat, Jake felt scared. The older man started coughing, making you place your hand on his shoulder for support.
“You okay, dad?” You asked.
He nodded, but the coughing continued. People started looking your way, and all Jake’s smile was fading away. When he disbalanced himself, he was quick to take him in his arms. And all of the sudden, he started coughing blood, making you gasp in horror. Your dad fell to the floor, camera lying beside him as you both kneeled down in front of him.
“Dad?” You put your hand just below his chin so the blood would fall on your hand.
Jake looked behind his shoulder and saw his family looking over worriedly, along with strangers. “Sir,” he looked back at your dad when he saw his own brother grab his phone. “We’re getting you to the hospital, okay? Don’t worry.”
You looked back and forth to where the blood was spilling out of his mouth, tears beginning to form in your eyes. Your cap and certificate were already abandoned on the floor just behind you, that wasn’t important anymore. “Dad, just–stay with us, please.” You stuttered.
WHEN YOU left to go to the hospital in the emergency van, Jake made the quick decision to contact your siblings and your mom. Your mom was nowhere to be seen, and he was afraid of what that could mean. She hadn’t attended your graduation, so where was she? Your siblings he was able to contact, and they were already making their way to the hospital when he had arrived with flowers in his hand. He was hesitant to enter the hospital at first, but how could he not be there for you in moments like this? You were alone in the waiting room, waiting for the doctors to come back with good news–any news at all. You had no shoulder to cry on.
So he did what he would’ve done if you were still together, he showed up without you having to ask.
“Y/n?”
A punch would’ve hurt less, the way you looked up from hiding in your hands–the puffy red eyes and trembling lips broke him completely. When you saw him, you broke. As if what you needed to open up completely had arrived.
One second, you were sitting, sobbing alone in a room full of strangers, the next, you were sobbing in Jake’s chest, his arms covering you perfectly from others. Even with your stuffed nose, the scent of the flowers filled your nose, making you have a little hope that your dad would be okay. You didn’t notice when Jake sat both of you down, put the flowers down to caress your head.
“It’s going to be okay.”
You sobbed harder, shaking your head as you pulled away. “I think it’s bad. It’s b-been an hour and they haven’t said anything. What if he’s not okay? What if I don’t get a chance to say goodbye?” You stuttered, rambled, and he sat there patiently.
“He’s strong.”
“I don’t want him to be strong, I want him to be okay.”
Jake nodded, his hand moving to caress your shoulder subconsciously.
He couldn’t watch you hurt like this. But he knew what was happening, and he didn’t want to leave her side.
“Family of L/n?”
You both looked up, quickly standing up. Jake tried to give you the flowers but you took his hand and followed the doctor. Jake knew you weren’t exactly thinking, but he let you do your thing. You rushed to the room your dad was and when you saw him, a sob escaped you.
“Dad.” You breathed out in relief. He looked….like he was in pain. Jake could see that.
“Hey, kiddo.”
You choked a laugh and sniffed, hugging your dad like he was going to run away. “I thought something happened to you.”
“I’m pretty sure something did.” He shrugged and nodded, gesturing to all the equipment and syringes he had on him.
You hit his shoulder lightly, glancing over your shoulder with a small laugh to see Jake standing there just outside the door with a small smile on his face and glassy eyes.
“Jakey? You’re here too?”
The boy nodded, stepping into the room. “Yeah, I…I didn’t want her to be alone. I called your siblings and everything.” He directed the sentence to you, making you smile. “They’re on their way.”
You nodded, a saddened smile appearing on your lips. “Thanks.”
Your dad looked between the two and cheesed, “I’m assuming those are for me?” He nodded at the flowers in his hands, making him chuckle and nod, placing them carefully on the empty space on the hospital bed. “You should become a florist one day. With your love for flowers and all.”
The two young adults smiled at his comment, “maybe one day.” Jake said quietly, eyes flickering to you.
His phone suddenly buzzed, he took his phone out and smiled at you. “Your siblings are here. I’ll go get them.”
You nodded, watching him step out of the room. You turned to your dad and let your hand fall on his. “I’m really glad you’re okay now.”
“I’m sorry for ruining your day, kiddo.” He frowned.
You shook your head. “What? You didn’t. It was the best day ever.” You said, tightening your grip. “You could never ruin my day.” You reassured.
You stayed in silence until your siblings entered the room with your two nephews, making you smile. One of them—who was a year old—was already in the arms of Jake so your sister could hug your dad. You chuckled and made your way to him, grabbing the little girl’s hand.
“Hi, little baby!” You made kiss sounds, making the baby squeak.
Jake looked down at you, watching you interact with the baby, and smiled subconsciously. He moved closer to you so the baby’s lips were on your cheek, making you giggle. Out of nowhere, your sister’s other kid—who was four, tapped you on your waist, making you turn around and smile, he opened his arms for you to carry him and when you did, he hugged you tightly.
“Grandpa?” He asked quietly, making you turn away from Jake and the baby.
You smiled at him. “Wanna say hi?” He nodded, you walked past your brother-in-law with a small ‘hi’ and placed your nephew down on the hospital bed, “look who’s here!” You grabbed your nephew’s hand to open his arms to hug your dad.
“Ah, my best baby boy!”
You backed away and let him have him, walking back to Jake. “I can take her, if you want.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. You should be with your family right now.” He smiled at you, patting the baby’s back. “And she’s a cutie.”
You laughed, raising your eyebrows and nodding. “Isn’t she a treasure?”
From the bed, your dad kept glancing your way. It was sad, the fact that this was the only time he’d be able to see you carrying a baby, or imagining your future. But he smiled, because he knew this was exactly how it would look one day, even if he wasn’t there for it.
“Excuse me?” Everyone looked at the entrance and saw one of the nurses step inside. “I’m sorry, but at the moment we can only allow two people per visit. It can get crowded.” She said sadly.
Jake was the first to step out of the room, seeing as he was really the only non-relative person in there, but your father considered him part of the family. “Actually, you kids should take Y/n to eat something. She has been here for a while.” He told his children.
They all nodded, your brother-in-law thanked Jake and grabbed his daughter from him. “Thanks, Jakey.”
He nodded, about to walk with him. “Jake, can you stay behind? I need your help.”
You looked at your dad and frowned. “Everything okay?” He nodded, “I’ll be right back, dad.”
He nodded with a smile. Jake quickly took his wallet out of his pockets and handed it to you, making you furrow your eyebrows. “Buy whatever you want, it’s on me.”
You looked down at the wallet and gave him a sad smile. “Thanks.”
When you walked away, Jake stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood just in front of the door, leaned against it and sighed. “Can you go through my pants?” He furrowed his eyebrows, “There’s something in the back pocket I want to give to you.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” He rushed to where the man’s clothes lay. He grabbed the only bag inside the pockets and tried handing it to him but he waved his hand in the air, “It’s for me?”
He nodded, making Jake nod slowly as he opened the bag. Two rings fell out of it and into his palm. He frowned, looking up to the man. “Are these…”
“One of them is my wedding ring. The other is my mother’s.” He responded, knowing exactly what he meant. Jake moved to open his mouth but your dad beat him to it. “I’m not going to make it. My daughter always played with my ring when she was little. I told her that when her time came, I’d give it to her. If I give it to her right now, she’ll know what it means. After I…after I die, I want you to give it to her.”
The boy shook his head, eyes flickering at the ring. “I shouldn’t be the one to give her this, sir.”
“Do it as a last favor.”
He pursed his lips into a thin line and nodded, eyes turning to the rings with the diamond on it, “What about this one?”
Your dad gave him a smile, “that…is my mother’s ring, that I want you to keep it.”
“M-me? Why?”
He waved his hand so he would come closer and patter the empty seat beside him. Jake took it, feeling suddenly nervous.
“I gave this to my wife as a promise that I would love her forever, and to this day, I do. Even though things didn’t end well between us. I gave my blessing to my eldest’s husband, but I won’t be able to do that on my youngest daughter’s day.” He grabbed the ring from the boy’s hand, opened the palm of his hand, and intertwined their hands, keeping the ring between them. “I knew the day you and my daughter met that you were going to be a special person in her life. Maybe someone temporary, but a special one. I wasn’t going to give you this ring until the actual day came where you awkwardly tried to have a one-on-one conversation about my daughter and you asked for my blessing…” Jake’s heart beat faster at the man’s words. “I don’t want you to think that just because I’m giving you this, that you have to ask for her hand. I’m not going to be here tomorrow, I won’t live to see the day where you come back and are a better man. When the time is right, if you and my daughter start over…I want you to give her this ring and promise her the same thing I did with her mother. If one day you decide that maybe this is where it ends for you two, I want you to give her the ring either way, but tell her what I’m telling you.”
“Sir…”
“I don’t want you to leave today with the idea that this is my last wish. My dying wish is for my daughter to be happy, for her to move on. Whether it’s with or without you.” He said, “I don’t want to be like that mom from that teen show Y/n watches where her dying wish is for the girl to be with one of her sons.” Jake snorted.
“The summer I turned pretty?” He asked.
“I believe you’ve always been pretty, Jakey.”
He cackled, tears flying away from his face, making the man smile proudly of his joke.
“I want you to work on yourself first. I want her to heal first.” He became serious, eyes flickering to the door where he was waiting for you to walk in. “I believe you’re a great guy, Jake. You just gotta start believing that yourself. You have people around you that love you for who you are. Including me.” He patted the boy’s hand before pulling away.
“Thank you.” Jake breathed out, lips puckering as he nodded. “I’ll try my best. I truly will.”
“I know you will. Now come here.” He pulled him into a hug, making the tears fall on to the man’s shoulder. “I love you, future son-in-law. And tell my daughter that she can make the ring into a necklace since she hates rings so much.”
Jake chuckled against his shoulder, pulling away. “I love you too, sir.”
All the sudden, the door busted open, revealing you with several jellies in one hand, a baby in her right arm, and a very shocked expression on her face. “Dad, they’re talking about who’s getting who!”
Jake quickly stood up to take the baby out of your hands, you smiled at him and rushed to your dad’s side. “Tell them to shut up.” You lowered your voice.
“Hey, we have to talk about it someday!” one of your brothers said.
“Don’t say that!”
IT WAS past midnight and at this point, everyone knew where this was going. Your dad had fallen asleep after having a conversation with each of his children. You being the last. It was a very sentimental conversation, one that ended in both shedding tears, but your father convinced you to accept what was happening. You finally said your goodbyes.
The doctors had escorted everyone out of the room, your brother-in-law had left the hospital to take his children back home, your older sister and two older brothers had been quietly talking right outside of the room, sneaking glances at the pair in front of them. You had fallen asleep on Jake’s shoulder just a few minutes ago, and tiredly, Jake’s head had also fallen on yours, eyes closed but not asleep. Just there.
Your mother was nowhere to be found.
Jake had sent a few text messages to her, telling her about your dad and how you needed her. But she never responded. And he couldn’t be more heartbroken for you.
Jay my mom told me what happened
Jay is her dad okay?
Jake looked down at his phone and sighed.
Jake were just waiting now, we all said our goodbyes already
Jay oh
Jay send her my condolences when you think its a good time
Jake i will
Jay if there's anything you need lmk
Jay I have her dad’s camera and both of your certificates btw
Jake keep them safe for me pls
The boy shut his phone off, moving his head just a tad to look down at you. You looked peaceful, lashes fluttering, even your breathing seemed peaceful. But of course, peace never lasted this long.
“Excuse me.”
Jake lightly tapped on your shoulder, making you open your eyes and scrunch your face from the light. You all turned to the doctor in front of you, who was wearing a saddened expression on his face. You knew what it meant.
“As you know, your father was very ill, and despite everything we did to keep him comfortable, his condition continued to worsen. I'm very sorry to tell you that he died peacefully a few minutes ago.”
The silence in the hallway was strong. Your oldest brother gave the doctor a saddened smile. “Thank you, doctor.”
“He’s at peace now, for what it’s worth. We’ll give you a couple of minutes so you can say your final goodbyes.” He stepped out of the way and all you could do was bury your head in Jake’s chest. His hand moved to your back, rubbing comfortably up and down. He watched as your siblings stepped into the room where your father lay.
“You should say bye to your dad.” He whispered quietly, arm still around you.
You pulled away and sniffed, wiping your nose. “I can’t do it.”
Jake stood and extended his hand out to you, a small smile appearing on his lips. “It’s okay.”
With hesitation, you grabbed his hand and stood up, flattening your skirt before stepping into the room. He pulled his hand away to let you be with your siblings. You hugged your sister first, then your oldest brother, and lastly, your other brother, who kept you in his arms whilst you cried. Jake stepped just near the exit of the room, simply staring at the scene. The doctors suddenly entered, pulling the cover all the way over your dad’s body, making him stiffen.
You swallowed, pulling away from your siblings to walk out of the room. Jake glanced at your siblings before he took a step back and followed you outside on the balcony. It was freezing cold. And you were already trembling from inside, but you didn't care. You stood just before the railing and sobbed quietly. When Jake stepped out on the balcony, he tried everything not to cry.
“Your dad asked me to give you something before he passed.”
You stopped sobbing for a second, hearing Jake’s footsteps getting close to you. When he stood face to face, he started fishing something out of his pocket, moving the ring your father had given him to the side.
“He wanted you to have this,” he took a bag out of his pocket and chuckled sadly. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to receive this from, but he really wanted me to give it to you.”
You grabbed the small bag from him, a small tear falling down your right cheek when you saw your father’s ring fall in the palm of your hand.
“It’s my dad’s ring.” You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from choking on your tears, looking at Jake. “Thank you.” You whispered.
He nodded, keeping his mouth shut to not cry in front of you. He buried his hands on the pockets of his pants and watched you put the ring in your index finger, making him chuckle again. “He also told me to tell you that you could always make it into a necklace, since you don’t really like rings.” He added quietly, trying his best not to ruin the moment, making you laugh, the tears spilling from your eyes.
You spun the ring on your finger and nodded, sniffing. “Thank you, Jake.”
“Of course.” He said under his breath, not trusting himself to speak more. He licked his lips, fidgeting with the small ring he had in his pocket as he looked at you. He watched as the tears kept falling, never ending, and how you were trembling because of the sudden cold breeze of air. With no hesitation, he took his blazer off and laid it on you, making you look at him with a small smile.
“Y-you should go back inside, it’s getting colder out here.” He suggested. “And I’m sure your family’s worried about you.”
His voice was careful, soft, like the one he would use when he’d help you calm down after an argument with your parents.
“I just…I need a minute.” You firmly said, making him nod.
“I understand.” He gave you a soft smile. As he began to take off, thinking you’d want to be alone, your mouth moved faster than your brain.
“Will you go to the funeral?” You asked, making him turn around, “I mean, there’s going to be one—tomorrow or on Monday, probably. And I—It’d be nice if you went.” Your voice trembled as he walked back to you.
“Are you okay with me going? If you don’t want me to go—“
You cut him off. “My dad loved you, Jake. The fact that he trusted you to give me his ring…I think it would be wrong for you not to go–to not say goodbye.”
“Okay.” He simply said.
“Okay.”
You repeated, making him nod. He opened his mouth to speak, watching as your puffy eyes kept delivering tears. And he couldn’t help but to scream at himself mentally, because if you were together, he wouldn’t have hesitated in opening his arms to hug you. But tonight he did, because tonight was not about him.
His arms wrapped around your upper body, not giving you a chance to react—to reject. Because he knew you needed that hug, so he let you use him as a shield. You completely fell apart in his arms, your body not even wrapping around his, just there, in his hold. And Jake would be lying if he didn’t feel like dying when he heard your sobs against his chest. His eyes began to tear, nuzzling his head down on your head and pressing your lips against it, not kissing you, not romantically, just so you knew there was someone holding you.
“It’s going to be okay, Y/n.” He mumbled against your head as you kept you crying, the sobs buried on his chest. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” His voice cracked, moving his cheek to lie on the head instead of his lips.
THE FUNERAL was the hardest part.
Because when he saw you in that black dress and unreadable expression, he knew you were in the stage of grief where you were trying to bury your feelings away.
He watched as you gave everyone that smile that perfectly expressed how you were feeling at the moment–your lips never once parted, always a tight-forced smile as you shook hands with those who gave their condolences. Your mother had forced you to be polite, and Jake noticed it from far away.
“Hey, man.”
His eyes moved away from you, turning to his friends. There stood Sunghoon, Jay, and Lily–who had come all the way from Australia to say her goodbye’s to the man she saw as a father-figure.
“Hey.” He said sadly.
Without saying anything, Lily placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder for comfort before turning to the others. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I didn’t know he was sick.” She frowned.
Jake’s eyes moved back to you, as if he were tracking every movement. He was worried about you. You were the only one who hadn't cried the whole ceremony, it made him nervous to see you very-well put.
“He got worse this year.” Jay explained to the girl, making her nod sadly. He turned to Jake and raised his eyebrows, “you’re still leaving, man?”
His lips parted, eyes still on you like he was afraid you’d fall as soon as he looked away. “I have to.” He said quietly. “I just…I want to speak with her before I do.” He added after a second.
Sunghoon followed his gaze and kissed his teeth. “You should do it now, she looks like she needs saving.”
Jake watched as you kept shaking people’s hands, knuckles turning white when your mother would whisper something. Without thinking it any further, he excused himself from the group and walked to you, hands in pockets, finger wearing the ring.
“Y/n?”
You looked beside you and sighed in relief, a small smile forming in your lips. “Hi.”
Like your eyes were glued to his, you skipped over the people walking up to you. “Is it okay if we take a walk?” He asked, voice calm and collected. You glanced at your mom and jumped from the last step to stand beside him.
“You must be tired of shaking hands, huh?” He asked, trying to lighten the mood.
Like always, he did, because you chuckled. “I've probably caught so many bacterias by now.”
You stretched your hands, making Jake take something out of his pocket and hand it to you. “Glad I brought this then.”
You looked at the hand-sanitizer and laughed, nudging your arm with his. Jake looked down at you and smiled, opening the small cap and pouring some of it on your hand.
The two of you walked around the cemetery in silence, just looking at the flowers and tombs around you. You needed this. The sound of your breathing was loud, but your heart beats were louder, you somehow could hear Jake’s as well as yours. But that somewhat made it better for you, it made you feel calmer.
“I’m leaving for Australia today.”
You stopped walking, making Jake do the same. “You are?”
He turned to you and nodded. “I did this interview months back for an internship at this company. Remember our career project from our first year in high school?” You nodded with a small smile. “I’m doing an internship in that company.” He confessed, licking his lips.
Your eyes lightened up. “Really? Jake, that’s amazing! You’ve always wanted that.” He nodded with a huge smile on his face. You smiled at his reaction, “I’m happy for you.”
His smile faded off, realizing your eyes were tearing up. “I heard you were going to take the LEET, that sounds fun too. And that you’re becoming a teacher this fall.” He tried changing the subject.
You shook your head, blinking the tears away. “I don’t know if that’s going to work anymore.” You chuckled.
Jake nodded sadly, understanding. “Well, whatever you decide to do…your dad would be proud either way, he’d want you to keep going, you know?” He searched for your eyes.
You nodded, smiling at him. “I know.”
He took his hands out of his pockets and patted them on his jacket. “I just wanted to say goodbye before I left. Not that I needed to or anything, I wanted to.” He stuttered over his words.
The words got caught in your throat, making you smile sadly at him as you spun the ring on your necklace. “Thank you. For everything, Jake.” He stared at you, lips puckering. “I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this when you also have your own stuff going on. But I’m really thankful you were there for me even though I didn’t ask you to. It means a lot.”
“It’s the least I can do after the way things ended.” He shrugged, “like—the bare minimum.”
You chuckled. “Still, I’m sorry for keeping you in the hospital that late, you saw things you shouldn’t even have to see.” You frowned.
Jake raised his hand to touch your face, his thumb wiping the tear that was about to fall from your eye, then he smiled. “I stayed because I wanted you to have someone to hold you.” He caressed your face softly, making your eyes water. “And I wanted to say goodbye to your dad too, he was a special man.”
“Yeah, he was.” You smiled, your mouth leaving a lingering touch in his hand.
“And if it’s too much, I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind if you took some time before taking the LEETs.” His hand fell from your face to your wrist, taking your pinky and interlocking it with his. “But you should totally continue the preschool teaching, and hey, maybe in a few years, we’ll see each other again and we’ll both be in our primes.” He tried to lighten the mood.
You covered your mouth and laughed, your other hand still intertwined with his. “In our primes?”
He nodded. “Make it a promise, come on.” You rolled your eyes and tightened your grip on your pinky. “Next time we see each other—whether it’s in a few months, or a few years, we’ll both be the best versions of ourselves. Yeah?” You stared at him, a smile forming your lips when he pulled your intertwined finger to his lips and kissed it.
You followed him and kissed your pinky. “Pinky promise.”
When you both pulled away, you exhaled. “I’m going to miss you, Jake.” You admitted. “I hope everything goes well in Australia.”
He nodded with a sad smile on his face. “Trust me, I’ll miss you more.” You chuckled, he opened his arms and pulled you into a hug, making you melt under his touch. You wrapped your arms around his waist, completely pressed against him and sighed. Jake kissed the top of your head, “can you promise me one more thing?” You hummed, “be happy. Don’t let anyone step over your toes. And most importantly…don’t let anyone make you cry like this.” He pulled away just enough to see your face.
You were sniffing, crying even—quietly, but Jake knew you too well. He smiled down at you, and you looked up at him with his hand in your chin. “Promise?”
You nodded. “Promise.”
He gave you a last squeeze and pulled away, “take care of yourself, Y/n.”
“You too, Jake.”
With one last wave, Jake turned around and walked away. When he disappeared, you couldn’t help but to break into a sob.
mars yap now lets be honest....I locked in for 46 hours to write this masterpiece, have never written a 20K word chapter..this is insanity...I need help...my laptop is glitching but were good...I cried every time I read this chapters because my feelings were all over the place so hopefully u did too...there's one more chapter left ok I love u bye...
𑣲⋆ Nishimura Riki ❤︎ Fem!reader ✴︎ romance mentions of self harm riki is depressed reader saves riki mentions of blood and scars
💭 𓂃 𓈒𓏸 958 ⋆˚࿔ ꒰ dabble ꒱ 💌 » Request
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍 ✴︎ You went to your boyfriend's apartment late at night without texting him first so you could surprise him, only to find him with a knife in his hands and scars on his body.
🪷° Haze' notes : I would be extremely sad if Riki was actually depressed. He deserves all the love in the world and the biggest apology. Happy reading!! [Not proofread]
“Riki~” You sweetly sang when you opened his front door by entering the password which you knew. It was late at night but you missed your boyfriend terribly and wanted to be near him so you simply decided to head to his home and surprise him.
What you didn't expect was to find him in the kitchen, a knife clenched in his right hand, pressed against his left wrist harsh enough to break skin. The air around you stilled, the sounds of gale and soft crickets went dead.
Your blood ran cold, your knees losing its strength. There stood Riki in his kitchen holding a knife to his wrist. There were tears running down his eyes but it looked empty, dead. His wrists were already red and bleeding.
He wasn't wearing his usual long sleeved hoodie, instead he simply wore a black gym shirt. Sighs of angry red slashes decorated both his arms, reaching up till his elbow. And now? He looked like he wanted to end it all.
“Riki!” Your brain finally processed the scene in front of you and took action. Your voice seemed to snap him out of the trance he was in, the knife in his hands fell to the ground, a sharp clank making you hiss.
You took off into his kitchen, kicking the knife away as you hugged him tightly, sobbing into his chest as his own sobs slowly gave way from his throat. “Riki, no.. no why—why did—wha—” You couldn't form complete sentences, your sobs piercing the dead silence.
The situation soaking into you.
“Ba-baby—I can't—” You simply shook your head sharply in his chest, tightening your grip around his waist. The reality dawning on you. If you were a little late, perhaps even by two minutes, your boyfriend would be no more here with you.
“No! No just—let m-me hold y-you!” The both of you fall to the floor, clinging to each other like a lifeline. Especially him. He kept muttering sorrys in your ear like a chant, his tears soaking your shirt.
After a long while, the both of you calm down and he pulls back. “Baby.. I love you..” Your lips trembled while trying to hold your tears back. “Wh-what happened, love..? W-was something wr-wrong?” You wipe your tears and wipe his tears with your sleeve, cupping his face dearly.
“Si-since when..?” You sob, searching his face for answers. “I-im sorry—cou-couldn't—” He shushed you with a kiss, his hands coming up to hold your waist ever so gently. You could feel his wounds pressing on you, the way his hands trembled because of the pain.
“Riki..”
He pulled back and looked down, anywhere but you. “I'm sorry I never told you, love.” Your hands fall to his arms, tracing the bumps of the scars on his hands. The mark of his sadness. “I could never bring myself to admit it.. I forced myself to believe that all was alright until it all wasn’t”
He sobbed softly, his fingers tightening around your waist as if to truly know that you were there and were with him. He explained everything to you. From the first time he had harmed himself, the way he then covered himself up and his insecurities grew, the way deep down, he always felt guilty.
You listen to everything with unwavering focus. You wanted to be there for him. Hell, you were beating yourself over it on the inside for not noticing this sooner. Your amazing boyfriend who was nothing but a sweetheart to everyone, was suffering all alone in the darkness of his own mind.
You held back every sob and tear, letting him. You hugged him once again, but this time, as someone comforting and safe. He buried his head on your chest and burst out in tears, sobbing into you like a broken child. Your heart twisted in an ugly way. You kiss his head, whispering every comforting word you can.
Expressing how you love him, how his six hyungs love him, how his family loves him, how his friends and classmates love him, the way your own family adored him. His sobs intensified. “You see how many people love you, Riki?” His breath hitched by how hard he was crying, his throat drying up.
“Thank you.. I.. I need therapy—” You nod instantly, supporting him in that decision. “I'll help you, my love.. I'll research everything for you.. just be with me.”
He pulled back, kissing you deeply. You hold him tightly, kissing him back. You cannot lose him. Your heart beats for him. “Come.. let me heal those wounds baby.. but you must promise me that if you ever get into that headspace again, you must let me know.”
“I will Y/N, I promise.. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Riki.. so much.”
—
[Three years later]
—
“Y/N! Don't run that fast!”
“Catch me, Riki!! Aging up already?”
“I'm 25 years old!”
“Haha then catch me!!”
He caught up to you on the beach, cold water hitting your foot. “Caught you.” His breath tickled your ear, making you move away from him as you turned to face him. “Hehe, congratulations!” He grinned, pressing his forehead on yours.
“Where's my reward, baby?” You blush, looking away to the sunset but his eyes stayed on you, his nose nuzzling with your cheek. “Shying away?” You giggle and pull away from him, dragging him near the waters.
“Your reward? Get drenched with water!!”
He couldn't even process the words before his body was smacked with a huge wave, pushing him backwards onto the wet sand.
“WHA—Y/N!”
“BAHAHAH!!!”
Your boyfriend was here. He was real. All because of the one night you sneaked inside his apartment because you missed him.
synopsis. jay is everything an alpha should be: respectful, mature, impossibly considerate. unfortunately, the omega he falls for at first sight thinks he’s a performative fraud. determined to prove he’s genuinely a good alpha, jay sets out to win over a man-hater (you!) while trying not to lose his mind over your smile, your sharp tongue, and, regrettably—your very distracting chest. oh goddess of the moon, please show him mercy! he swears he’s not a pervert. a spin-off from love me (k)not and mark me yours!
pairing. alpha!jay x omega!female reader
genre(s). omegaverse, rom-com, (one-sided) enemies-to-lovers, love at first sight, light angst, fluff
warnings. jay pervert allegation, reader has above-average boobs, profanity, whole &team are assholes here sorry, ex-boyfriend maki, cheating, gaslighting, reader is a fashion student, enhypen ensemble, jay is a sweetheart, reader is just a complex character please try to understand her, nesting, vulnerability and insecurity, arranged date, not beta read we die like injang, please let me know if i missed anything <3
word count. 16,983 words
note. this is soooo long overdue i'm sorry :( but it's my first ever jay fic though so we cheer! have fun reading and lmk what you think <3
“Peach or cherry?”
Jay is losing his mind and all Jake cares about is whether he prefers ass or boobs.
The frat house is crowded as usual, with people getting drunk and high on whatever substances they prefer in their system. On any other night, Jay would find the scene irritable and annoying.
After all, he always keeps himself in check, always sober and in control of his actions and thoughts, always so, so responsible. He’d prefer watching from the sidelines and being of help for when Riki starts throwing up from too much drinking or when Heeseung sings too loud after his second fill.
Jay is always responsible. He never lets himself on the loose.
But tonight, as the aftermath of his near-fight with Heeseung and him having to rush to the hospital after the burgundy-haired alpha collapsed in his omega’s doorway, despite Jay himself being too shaken to stand, he thinks he’s fine with getting slightly reckless.
Slightly reckless, in this case, is drinking more than the two red cups he usually gets.
“Why are we using fruits to represent anatomy?”
Back to the situation at hand, where he’s sitting on top of a tall stool around the kitchen island, Sunoo is throwing Jake a grimace. Beside him, Riki already has his head bobbing to the music, a telltale sign of a blackout drunk that would usually result in Jay and Sunoo cleaning his mess up. A defeated sigh leaves his lips involuntarily.
Jay downs another shot.
"I don't want to be too explicit," Jake shrugs, like it's the most normal thing to do. "So, peach or cherry?"
Jay knows how this will go.
Riki is an ass guy, judging from the way he likes to slap anyone's butt within his proximity. Jake is both because he's an indecisive little shit who's just too greedy to pick. If pussy was on the options, he'd pick all three.
Sunoo, despite his reckless endeavor with alphas, Jay has never heard him doing anything more than a messy make-out and a blowjob. But he might be an ass guy too, just because he has a juicy fat ass. Heeseung—well, if he was here, anyway—would've said boobs, because Jay knows him a little too well which makes him privy to the former's (previously) sexually active life.
And Jay—he's too respectful to even answer that.
True to his own guess, Riki shakes his head drunkenly from beside an expressionless Sunoo. "My girl is perfect," he says, then grins cheekily. "But I like taking her from the back. Shit, you shouldn't know that."
"We shouldn't, dumbass. Why are you airing out your bedroom activities to us?" Sunoo rolls his eyes, but there's no bite to it. Everybody knows how loose Riki's tongue can get when he's wasted. On any other sober days, he would gate-keep the hell out of his omega. "Anyway, peach."
Jay has guessed almost everything right. He downs another shot.
A shit-eating grin appears on Jake's face. "I knew it, Sunny, you're an ass guy!"
"It's not really a groundbreaking discovery," Sunoo shrugs his shoulders, then turns to Jay. "Jay hyung, what about you?"
Jay is a respectful guy, so there's no way he would ever answer that. He shakes his head, already dizzy from the buzzing alcohol in his system.
"I don't like talking about this."
A chorus of groans echoes around the island. Only Sunoo smiles at him.
"You're no fun, Jjongsaeng," Jake shoves his shoulders playfully. "It's harmless conversation. As for me, I like anything they give me, but I love pussy the most. Which will make me a butterfly guy."
Sunoo lets out a loud groan, while Riki is already giggling. "Are you calling pussy a butterfly? Hyung, please shut the fuck up."
It's ridiculous, really. Jay loves his friends, but they sometimes do questionable things that makes him want to rip his own hair out. If Jungwon was here, he would be up his ass and plot ways to get on his nerves. If Sunghoon was here, well, Jay likes his company the most because he's the calmest and doesn't say controversial shits that could get them cancelled. His friends can be insufferable sometimes, but the most annoying one at this moment is none other than Heeseung.
Thinking about the burgundy-haired alpha just makes his wolf bitter all over again. Seriously, what did he do wrong? Heeseung should've been thanking him instead for keeping his omega dry from the rain. Not taking him down in an almost-fistful physical attack, and definitely not this silent treatment between them that makes their shared apartment smaller than it is, on-edge pheromones suffocating the air.
Jay is pissed. Pissed that they haven't made up yet and pissed at himself for being too kind.
Is he too kind? Should he just let her get soaked in the rain?
He grabs his red cup, ready to feel the alcohol again, and sighs quietly when there's only a drop left inside. Jay is about to stand and refill more booze, but he's stopped by a firm hand on his wrist.
He looks up to a worried Sunoo.
The younger alpha gives him a once-over. He probably looks so red in the face right now, but nobody seems to notice because Jake and Riki are somehow trying to bite each other's heads off arguing about the proper fruit representative for a pussy.
"You're drinking a lot tonight," Sunoo finally says, ever the observant. "Did something happen?"
Everything happened.
Is what Jay wants to say badly.
That near-fight with Heeseung happened. That still-awkward tension between him and Riki's mate happened. That weird glances mated alphas throw at him whenever he's around their omegas happened. That flirty and hopeful stares omegas give him whenever he so as looks their way happened.
And, despite everything, him still not meeting his mate happened.
If anyone should be envious, it's Jay. Not Heeseung. Not Riki.
"Envious of?"
Shit. He said that out loud, didn't he?
He was about to deflect, but now that Sunoo is fixing him with that foxy gaze, glinting with relentless curiosity that won't back down no matter the excuses, Jay knows he has nowhere to go. He looks to his left, where Jake and Riki has reconciled and agree that no fruit matches with a pussy's shape because apparently pussy is too special for fruit comparisons, settling on calling it flower instead, and now have started discussing about how diabolical it is to compare a dick to an eggplant, and sighs.
Jay thinks he needs new friends. Better friends, even. Except Sunoo. And Sunghoon.
"Hyung?"
When Jay's sure that Jake and Riki are too wasted and distracted to eavesdrop, he finally relents.
"I…Sunoo-yah," he swipes a tongue across his bottom lip. "Is there something wrong with me?"
This is why he hates getting drunk. Because his body recognises alcohol as invitation to start talking deep shits and pouring his heart out like an endless stream of river. It's not a bad thing to be vulnerable, but Jay has guarded his heart so tight that only certain people have the privilege to listen to his deepest secrets.
Thankfully, tonight is just his luck. Rather than exposing himself to a stranger, which has been his biggest fear when getting drunk, it's Sunoo who's listening to him attentively. The brown-haired alpha is looking at him softly, amber eyes full of understanding and encouragement, and it makes the tension in his shoulders slowly melt away.
"Why'd you say that?"
Jay is quiet for a moment. Right, why would he? Then he remembers Heeseung and Riki, those omegas and alphas, and, finally—his own wolf.
"Am I too…" he sucks in a breath, not wanting to sound self-absorbed, but it's what he's been hearing from people.
"Am I too much of a green flag?"
Sunoo didn't expect that from him, judging by the micro-surprise in his expression. Maybe he should stop there and let Sunoo reply, but now that he finally lets it out, Jay finds it easy to just continue.
"Is it wrong to be a kind alpha? I think it wasn't, but seeing how anxious and weary alphas can get when I'm being a gentleman to their omegas…" he trails off, hating the fact that it's his best friends' faces that appear on his mind. "I think it's a mistake. I shouldn't be too kind, right?"
There's a muffled silence between them, dampened by the loud bass from the living room and the sharp citrus turning bitter in the air. Jay looks off to the kitchen island, realising that it's now just him and Sunoo in that space; Jake and Riki are now joining the beer pong just getting started in the backyard.
Across from him, a look of understanding crosses Sunoo's face.
"There's no such thing as being too kind, hyung."
"Then why am I being punished for it?" He cuts in sharply. "Why do I feel bad for doing those things to them?"
He still remembers, the day Riki showed up in his apartment, crying because his lifelong crush wanted Jay to help her with her heat. Riki begged him not to agree, and Jay had done so—it didn't feel right to do that, especially when he knows about the younger boy's feelings for his childhood friend. But then Riki changed his mind and convinced him to say yes, because 'I didn't want her to go through it alone in indescribable pain, and I don't want to ruin our friendship if it's not me that she wanted. Please help me, hyung, she's just presented as an omega. It'll be too dangerous for her to do it alone.'
He had agreed out of sympathy for his younger friend, but somehow him agreeing had bloomed jealousy in the alpha's heart. Jay understands—Riki is still too young, and young alphas are the most territorial creatures to walk on this Earth—but it still hurts his feeling to be treated like a Mr. Steal Your Girl, when he has never stolen anything except omegas' hearts unintentionally.
Riki had apologised and admitted to his immaturity, but still, it wasn't enough to erase weeks of awkward silences and clipped conversations over a single apology. His omega has been extra cautious around Jay, and it always makes him sore to hold back from being himself around her. Or around any taken omegas, for the record.
So, really, he'd appreciate it a lot if Sunoo could just be honest with him and tell him, 'Yes, hyung, you're too kind for your own good,' instead of sugarcoating it.
But of course Sunoo would say the opposite.
"The ones who did that to you aren't the people you helped, right?" Sunoo says, smooth voice weaving through the music like it's meant to find Jay no matter the noise. "It's always the jealous alphas. But I'm sure those omegas were thankful for you for helping them. You're not being punished, hyung. You're just too good that you kinda intimidated these alphas into thinking that their mates would run to you the second they look away."
Jay doesn't know what to say to that. Sunoo always has this way of charming people with his words, the kind that can convince a criminal that they're a saint with that lilt in his voice that only he has. He's not sure if Sunoo really means it, or if it's the truth as it is.
The younger alpha sees right through him. "You're doubting me."
"No! No, I'm just—" Jay pauses, hating the fact that he is indeed doubting his friend's words, and decides to just be honest. "Okay—yeah. You're right. It's hard to believe you."
Sunoo hums, not the slightest offended. He leans forward, turning his head to watch the ongoing beer pong, seen through the transparent sliding door. Jay follows his line of sight, and feels his chest tighten when he sees Riki making out with his omega.
It's the familiar ache that he felt when he saw the mating mark on Riki's neck. The same longing he feels whenever his mated teammates talk about their fulfilled love life. It's like a circle of bubble that Jay doesn't dare burst, being the only one outside of a room full of people who have found the meaning of love.
I wish I could have that too.
Sunoo catches him before he could mask his scent. He throws Jay an expressionless look. For a moment, Jay prepares himself for a 'Gotcha!' comment from him, but the younger alpha only gives him a close-lipped smile.
"Ah, hyung. I should've known. You want a mate, don't you?"
"I don't," Jay is quick to deny, but upon seeing the knowing glint in Sunoo's eyes, he realises there's no point in denying. He sighs for the umpteenth time that night.
"Yes, I do. But it's not as easy as you might think."
"Why? I'm pretty sure there are many omegas who'd throw themselves at you."
"But I can't because I…" Jay licks his lips, "I don't find anyone I like enough yet."
Sunoo doesn't say anything for a long, stretched moment. Jay almost squirms under his dissecting eyes. It feels as though Sunoo is picking him apart by his gaze and his scent alone, seeing parts of himself that he wouldn't show bare. It's unnerving yet weirdly comforting at the same time, having someone who can see right through him despite the walls he built.
"Hyung, everything about this gentleman persona and you wanting a mate—there's only one thing I can say."
Jay swallows thickly, mind sobering up with each passing second. "What?"
"You are with this kindness not without a purpose," Sunoo says calmly, like he hasn't just dropped the most riddled sentence that sounds too Shakespeare-ish to Jay's drunken mind.
"Huh?"
"I'm saying, there is someone out there who needs your kindness, hyung. Your patience. Your heart," Sunoo flashes him a small smile, sincere and genuine. "You'll meet them someday. And when you do, you'll understand why you are the way you are. You are never too much for someone who's meant to hold you."
Jay hears him, truly, but that promise sounds so distant and far away. Like a reality he's witnessesing from a different universe, through a portal of lifelong waiting and yearning. He wants to believe it, wants to hold onto every syllable and let it be his new faith, but the deepest, ugly part of him doesn't believe he belongs to that kind of destiny.
He doesn't say anything. Not that he has the chance to when the smell of burning chocolate greets his senses and soon, an upset Jungwon is already filling up the space with his broad shoulders and moody pheromones.
A black leather jacket, zipped up to his chin, hugs his body, highlighting his wide figure under the kitchen light, paired with leather pants. Jungwon's hair is messy, untamed around the frame of his eyes, and Jay knows why when he sees the helmet in his arm.
"Hyung, be honest. Do I look too baby-faced?" The alpha pouts, gesturing at his body. "Even after wearing this whole gear? I even rode my precious bike to see her!"
Jay doesn't have to stay to know that Jungwon's whining about the older omega he has a crush on, someone that used to babysit him when he was 10 years old and is now still treating him like a baby. He would've stayed to listen and comfort the younger alpha, really, but unfortunately for Jungwon, Jay also needs some comfort for himself before he loses his fucking mind.
He grabs his red cup and stands up, needing the alcohol to be in his system now more than anything. The other two alphas don't notice him leaving, and if they do, Jay's sure Sunoo's more interested to hear about Jungwon's failing love life than his already-doomed one.
Jay makes his way through the crowd, giving polite smiles to everyone in his way. He's not really a fan of this kind of crowd—it's more of Heeseung's and Riki's crowd—but it's the least of his concerns now. The alpha squeezes past dancing omegas whose stares linger, past a group of alphas who give him a nod of acknowledgement, past a pair of lovers making out on the wall.
That makes him falter.
Jay blames it on the alcohol. Really, he's usually not like this. It's actually easier to act like not having a mate among friends who are already mated doesn't affect him when his thoughts are more coherent and making sense. But right now, as he watches the couple giggling at each other, lips in ears and soft eyes looking into soft eyes, a pinch of envy twists in his chest.
Jay huffs, leaving the scene faster than he'd like to admit. Seriously, if he was so good and kind like everybody had said, if he's the picture-perfect alpha like every family member had boasted about, then why is it only him alone with no one to hold? Why is it always him who's cleaning after everybody's mess when he only watches on the sidelines as they get their happy ending? Why is it that people who run from love are more favoured than someone who's always been ready like him?
What about him? What about his happy ending?
After what felt like hours, Jay finally finds his booze. Jake has an eccentric preference of placing the booth all over the frat house, and the one in the kitchen has long ran out. He's standing at the booth by the stairs right now, the majority of them still untouched. Jay pours into his cup full to the brim. His senses are already tingling with the thoughts of drinking more.
When the alcohol buzzes through his system, Jay lets out a satisfied sigh. God, he's so carefree tonight. But whatever, he's pretty sure Sunoo can drive them home safely. Right now, Jay's focus is only on making himself feel better and forget whatever ruckus that has unfolded the past few weeks.
He pours more when his cup empties. From where he's standing, the bass doesn't really reach him, a bit distant from the speaker now blasting Miley Cyrus' Party In The U.S.A.. It makes the conversation around him sounds clearer in his ears. Including the ones coming from upstairs.
Jay pays them no mind. He's not here for gossips or shits and giggles—he's here to cool off. But when something sweet, something that reminds him of his mom's berry strudels and morning coffee drifts into his nose, Jay's senses sharpen.
Is someone baking? He wonders alone. The last time he left the kitchen, there were only Sunoo and Jungwon. As far as he remembers, neither could touch the oven without risking an explosion.
So where does this sweet scent come from?
It gets sweeter the more he spends his focus on it. Jay looks around, mind still buzzing, unable to find the source of the scent that has piqued his interest through the haziness. His nose twitches. Even in his drunken state, Jay can't help but notice how constrasting the scent is to his sharp citrus.
And for some reason, his wolf likes it.
"Is it from the stairs?" he mumbles, stumbling to the foot of the stairs, drink sloshing in his cup.
But just as he's about to look up, he's already colliding into a soft body coming down from upstairs.
"Ah!"
Oh no.
Jay watches in horror as the drink in his hand spills all over the person's shirt, staining the white fabric with yellowish mark that almost looks like someone's piss. He freezes, mouth gaping in surprise, but the only thing his hazy mind picks up is 'Yes, he's finally found where the scent comes from.'
It's from the victim of his booze.
Or rather, the furious omega who's looking down at him with a sneer on her face right now.
"Hey!" You yell, face burning red. "Look at what you did!"
Oh, Jay is definitely looking. For some reason, his eyes are glued to your face, taking in every feature decorating your sweet face. The perfectly sculpted brows that are now frowning deep, the round eyes that are narrowing down at him, the full lips that are pulled into a tight, dissatisfied line.
Such an angry omega. But also the most beautiful he's ever laid his eyes on.
"Hey, stupid alpha. I'm talking to you!"
Jay has never seen you before. Who are you? Why are you making his heart beat so fast? Why is his wolf wiggling his tail at the sight of you?
"Oh my fucking God. So fucking annoying."
Even when you're glaring at him, under the dim light of Jake's frat house, you look very, very pretty. Are you even real, or just a drunken manifestation of his desperation for a mate?
Jay's too starstruck and drunk to notice how dumb he must look right now, but you've had enough of the alpha gaping at you like a dying fish. You shake his shoulders, manicured nails digging into his shirt.
"Earth to dumbass alpha! Hello??? You just spilled your drink all over my Limited Edition Cherry Chanel Baby Tee!"
Oh, right. Jay snaps out of his reverie, and drops his eyes on your chest to see the damage he's done.
But instead of realising his mistake, he's realising something else instead.
The wet patch darkens your shirt from its usual shade, sticking to your chest like second skin. From where he's standing so close, just a step below you on the stairs, his eyes level with your chest, Jay has a belated realisation that you have such perfect…boobs.
They're slightly bigger than average, perfectly-shaped and round, and they sit so nicely that Jay feels like they'd beat his expensive pillows in softness. A thought, a small thought that sober-Jay would never have, crosses his mind.
Jay wants to bury his face in your chest to test it.
Oh my God. This is bad. Drunk-Jay is so, so bad. He's really malfunctioning tonight.
You, on the other hand, are already at your wits' ends. It doesn't help that the shirt feels so sticky, so uncomfortable and it irritates you to the core. Also, why the fuck is this stupid alpha staring at your chest like—like he wants to touch it?
"Hey!" you push his shoulder again, but the alpha doesn't budge. You grit your teeth. "My eyes are up here, dumbass!"
Jay breathes out. "Che…rry."
Your brows furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Cherry." Jay repeats, eyes never leaving your chest. His mind is dissolving into mixed up conversations—he can hear Jake's voice, your voice, and the bass mixing together.
"I prefer…cherry."
There is a heavy silence that follows, loaded with bubbling anger, drunk confusion, and a very, very horrific realisation that he's talking about your chest. Your mouth falls open.
With a handsome face and neat shirt like that, you can't believe that this alpha is such a fucking pervert!
"Yah! Are you crazy?! What cherry?!" You scream, attracting more attention on the two of you. Jay barely blinks. "Are you talking about—about my boobs?!"
Jay blinks blearily, then nods.
"Your…cherry."
You let out a scandalised gasp. Humiliation starts creeping up your face, painting your skin even redder than before.
This is ridiculous. This is diabolical! The audacity of this alpha—!
Before you know it, your hand already swipes across his cheek in a surprised, harsh slap. Jay's head jerks to the side, his own eyes growing wide at the impact. A ringing silence echoes between the two of you, followed by a chorus of gasps from the onlookers.
After literally getting slapped into his senses, Jay sobers up in that one single moment and realises with a dread, What the fuck did he just do?
He slowly looks back at you, touching his stinging cheek like you had personally offended his whole bloodline. You're glaring at him, chest heaving rapidly like you can't contain your anger any longer.
"You fucking pervert!"
Jay's breath hitches. He's a pervert?
"Get away from me!"
The alpha lets his body get shoved to the side like a door blocking the way. He stands there, motionless, as he watches you leave, angry steps making your hair bounce. Shame and guilt start crawling up his chest when his mind decides to replay the scene, realising in horror how out of character he had been and how rude he was to you.
Oh God. Oh my God.
Seriously, Park Jongseong? Cherry? That's the first thing you say to the literal love of your life?
"Isn't that Park Jongseong?"
"Oh my God, I thought he was a green flag?"
"I guess even a green flag still has a knot to satisfy."
"Park Jongseong is a pervert?"
Jay squeezes his eyes shut and runs a hand down his face. He doesn't really care about his reputation, so the whispers barely bother him.
What he cares more is the lingering scent of acidic espresso and rotting cherries in the air, trailing after you even when you're long gone. His cheek still burns, but he couldn't care less because—you know…he kind of deserved it.
Fuck.
And Jay doesn't even know your name.
"All alphas are nothing but a knothead!"
You spit, seething in anger as you glare at anyone in your way. Not even the loud music can muffle your voice, sending death threats and insults to a certain alpha (and literally all other alphas.)
Maybe it's just your bad day, because just as you finally see your exit, an alpha—stupidly broad-shouldered alpha, fuck alphas and their ridiculous proportions—bumps into you. You click your tongue and look up at him.
"Why do you guys stupid alphas only think with your dick, your cock, and only your small fucking knot?!"
The alpha stares at you in horror. It seems like today is more of his unlucky day than yours.
"I-I don't—"
"What? You don't have a dick?" You cut him off, irritation pulling at your nerves. Tonight is such a shitty night. "Isn't that the only thing you alphas are proud of? Thinking with your knot and tricking omegas with your cock?!"
The poor alpha stands there cowering, hanging his head low as if he's already accepted his fate of being the receiving end of your hatred towards alphas and…dicks.
You push a trembling finger on his chest, eyes prickling with tears. Fuck these hormones and emotions, fuck this soft scent that makes people think you're nothing more than a weak, defenceless omega—you've had enough of everything.
"Am I wrong? Isn't that why Riki cheated on me?!" You yell, not caring if people catch your words. "Because his dick can't get enough with only one pussy?!"
A ripple of murmurs and whispers start spreading around you. Even the DJ has turned the volume down slightly, taken aback by the sudden drop of the bomb of truth.
A cheating scandal? That's the juiciest gossip college students could have ever had.
The nameless alpha looks at you, eyes wide in surprise mixed with disappointment when he hears your words.
"Oh my God—there's no way—Riki cheated?" He stammers. "Nishimura Riki cheated?"
"Who the fuck is Nishimura Riki?" Your brows furrow, first time hearing that family name. "It's Hirota Riki! My stupid, cheating ex who's immature and younger than me and just plain dumb like a textbook alpha!"
The relief physically vanishes from his face. Then, as if realising what you have said, his face mirrors your confusion. "Wait—you mean Maki? That German-Japanese guy?"
You squeeze your eyes shut. Of course people know him. You almost forgot that your ex, other than being a piece of garbage and a pain in your ass, is also a famous model for the college magazines. His face is everywhere, in every campaign and poster and advertisements, wearing clothes that always gains attention.
Clothes that you designed and sewn by hand.
The back of your eyes burn with tears, but you blink them back, not wanting people to see your sadness. You'd rather they have your anger and rage, because lashing out and being called crazy for screaming seem less vulnerable than the little drops of tears down your cheeks.
You push at the alpha weakly, every fibre of your being just begging to go home and forget everything about tonight.
"Are you okay, angry omega?"
"Shut up," you hiss, voice shaky. "I'm leaving this place."
The crowd parts for you as you make your way to the exit. You sway slightly, too drained from spending your energy screaming at everyone and no one at the same time.
You hate the prying eyes. You hate the pitying words. You hate the whispers. But there's nothing you can do when it's you who accidentally aired out your ex boyfriend's scandal in your fit of anger.
It's been two months since the breakup—a breakup that you thought was healthy and reasonable. Maki told you that he was going to get busy with growing his career, balancing his job as a freelance model with being an engineering student was starting to take up most of his time. Somewhere in between schedules, he no longer could find the time to love you, to fit you in his world of fame and glory.
You didn't want to hold him back. Even when you had liked him more than you ever did anyone, you still let him go. The relationship lasted only for nine months, and you never really expected anything serious or long lasting from dating someone in college.
But tonight, a friend let the truth slip.
Maki didn't break up with you because he wanted time for his career growth—or whatever bullshit he spouted at you. No.
He has been seeing another omega behind your back. Someone from the same major as you.
It's no surprise that you didn't find out any sooner. Being a fashion major warrants competitiveness and rivals—and you're not exactly well-loved by your fellow designers. You're the notorious omega known for your ridiculous standards, your pride and stubbornness, and your sharp tongue. It's your brilliant designs that get people to at least pretend to be your friends, hoping to steal a bit of your creative talent—but you always smell bullshit from miles away.
So, really, it upsets you that you failed to detect Maki's bullshit first. And people have been keeping it from you because they like to see your downfall.
And what better downfall is there than seeing your ex cheating on you with your fashion rival?
It's not like you liked him to the point of love—no. It's the betrayal that makes your mouth feel dry, heart heavy in ways it never had been before, like an anchor pulling down ships to sink.
Before you know it, you're already outside. The air is too chilly for your skin, amplified by the wet stain on your chest. You bite your lips, on the verge of tears when you're reminded of that perverted alpha.
Another alpha that only caused you humiliation. Really?
How can someone look at you like you're the most divine being one minute, then blatantly stare at your chest the next?
It's beyond you, really. Alphas are just evolutionary failures.
You fish out your phone from your wallet and look for an Uber. You're not too drunk to drive. If anything, you've never felt more sober in your life. It's just skills issue—you just cannot drive. Even when you have a whole damn Porsche in the garage of your family's mansion; a gift from your overly-doting parents who got too excited when you managed to get into fashion school—it still terrifies you to hold the steering wheel.
All of these privileges and wealth, yet no success in the dating department (and driving classes). Your whole life, you have dated a cheater, a closeted alpha who was too scared to tell you that he liked knots better than your pussy, and just a total manchild who sulked back whenever you pouted.
"Seriously," you mutter, confirming your location on the screen. "When will it be my turn to date an actual manly alpha?"
You pause. Now that you think of it, even so-called green-flag alphas give you the ick.
They're just a bunch of performative males. Just look at the college's beloved cheater. Maki was acting like a green forest itself when he was courting you!
None of these alphas can be trusted!
"I will just die single," you decide, closing the app once your driver is confirmed. Your parents have more than enough money to support you anyway.
You stand at the porch in silence, the sound of the bass can be heard faintly through the walls. The stickiness of your shirt is now long forgotten; you've given up thinking about it when the memory of your ex comes back. There are more pressing matters at hand that need your attention.
Like the upcoming fashion week, no doubt will get you into another spiral of self-doubt and stress. Like your parents who keep insisting you meet this one young, handsome bachelor that apparently would be just your type—but you're still hurt by Maki's action that you haven't found the right timing to say yes. Like your favourite cherry Chanel baby tee, now ruined and stained, and you wonder if you should send it for dry cleaning or pay a fortune to scalpers—
"Miss?"
A deep timbre greets your hearing. It's soft and a tad bit familiar, like you've heard it somewhere before.
You turn around and immediately frown when you see him.
It's that perverted alpha.
"What?" You reply, already annoyed. The alpha blinks at you, looking more sober than before. His collar is folded neatly now, and the red tips of his ears are hinting more on shyness than alcohol influence.
He gives you a nervous smile. "I came to apologise."
Tch. Another performative alpha. But this one likes to stare at your chest too much.
You roll your eyes and turn back to the front, wishing for your driver to arrive fast.
"Just save your breath and go. You don't even know what you're apologising for."
One thing you hate about men, especially alphas, is that they never mean their sorry's. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything'. Everything is too generic. They don't have any idea what they apologise for. The phrase has lost its value from how often it flows out of their mouths without meaning.
But this alpha is a bit more stubborn than you think. He shuffles closer, still keeping a safe distance, and stands next to you. Now closer, you can smell the citrusy scent wafting from him—sharp and refreshing, something that reminds you of summer. It has to be his pheromones.
Well, okay. He has sexy pheromones. You'll admit that. Too bad that the owner is already on your blacklist.
"I apologise for spilling my drinks on you and ruining your baby tee," he begins, turning his body facing you. But you refuse to look.
"It's the Limited Edition Cherry Chanel baby tee," you correct him. From your peripheral vision, you can faintly see him grin.
"Yes, I'm sorry for ruining your Limited Edition Cherry Chanel baby tee."
Okay. He's obedient. But it could be performative. Maybe he's just trying to get into your pants. You're not oblivious to how beautiful you look. You know that your family has good genes.
"And I apologise for staring at your chest inappropriately. I came off as a pervert even when I didn't mean to," he breathes out, voice lowering down in shame. "I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable."
Something tugs at your heart unexpectedly. It surprises you that this alpha actually knows what he's apologising for, unlike your previous exes who only said sorry to get your nagging self off their backs. You shift slightly, unwilling to let this new change get to your head.
"Well, apology heard," you retort, still strong on not letting the alpha get too close—or accepting his apology. "But I'm not sorry for slapping you. So don't expect an apology from me."
An amused chuckle slips past his lips. His lemon scent bursts in the air, sounding too elated for your liking.
What's so funny?
"I guess I deserved it," the alpha, whose name you just realise you never know, replies as he touches his cheek with a brush of his fingers. You take a glance, satisfaction blooming in your chest when you notice the red mark on the tender skin.
That's what alphas like him deserve. Omegas run the world anyway.
You don't bother to say anything, just letting the cold breeze of night wind engulf you. It seeps into your bones, making you shiver almost too aggressively. The driver is still five minutes away, taking suspiciously long time at the red light just in front of a Burger King drive-thru.
You feel eyes on you before you feel his movements. The alpha sheds his trench coat, brushing wrinkles off the fabric before he hands it to you. You almost sigh, both out of relief and annoyance because really, you could use some extra layers right now but seriously, does it have to be in the most cliche, K-drama-worthy situation ever?
"What is this," you flatly ask, unimpressed.
"You're cold."
"How did you know that I'm cold?"
You watch the tip of his ears blush, and then his eyes traitorously drop to your chest before quickly lift up to face you again.
"I just…noticed."
You roll your eyes before looking down. "I know it's soaked, and it's—"
The words die on your tongue.
Your nipples. They're erect from the cold, mounting the thin, drenched fabric of your shirt in deadly-obvious pebbles. You brain dissolves into incoherent blabbering as a heat of embarrassment creeps up your neck. It's seriously the worst day ever to choose not wearing a bra.
You don't know if it's shame, or anger, or both, but when you look up to the now-blushing alpha, there's rage boiling over like a kettle about to whistle.
"I fucking knew it!" You couldn't hold yourself back this time, snatching the coat and smacking the alpha with the fabric. The alpha's eyes widen as he cowers to dodge your attack.
"You're just a pervert!"
"I-I'm not! I'm sorry—ow! Ow!"
You don't relent and keep hitting him with his coat, tears of shame threatening to spill over.
"What are you sorry for, you performative wolf?!" Smack! Smack! "You just ogled at my chest again!"
"I didn't mean to—ow! I'm sorry!"
With one final hit, you throw the coat at his face with all your might. He clumsily catches it, eyes wide with shock. The anger is hot, too hot that the cold doesn't bother you anymore, in fact you think steam might rise from your head in any second. With a huff, you stomp down the porch, ignoring his cries of sorry's from behind.
"I-I'm sorry! It's a misunderstanding! I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable again!"
"Shut the fuck up! You better not show your face anymore!" You flip him off without looking back.
However, upon seeing the Uber driver, you take a U-turn and stomp back to the alpha. His eyes immediately light up, there's a thin layer of moisture in his eyes. Maybe the coat hit his eyes or he's just so performative he'd cry if he could, you don't really care.
"You came back," he breathes out. "I'm sorry—"
"I said shut up!" You yell, already too irritated and overstimulated. While you're at it—embarrassing yourself to the point of no return—you snatch his trench coat and sling it over your chest shamelessly.
The driver is also an alpha, and you're not risking flashing your tits to another pervert.
"I'm taking this. Bye!"
"Wait!"
"And I am NOT returning it!"
With a harsh slam of the door, the car finally drives into the horizon, leaving behind a confused and guilty and perverted alpha as he chases after your Uber. Your chest heaves deeply, adrenaline running hot as your face flushes. You pretend not to notice the bag of chips and burger in the driver's lap, or the way the perverted alpha stands smaller in the side mirror as he watches you leave.
You just hope you never see that alpha again.
You never see that alpha again. However, as if you had personally offended the Earth and the entire Solar system, the Goddess doubles it down and sends your cheating ex to your studio instead.
His presence is too invasive that you feel him before you see him. His pheromones, now making your hair stand instead of providing the comfort that it used to do, breaches your senses when you round the corner. You had just stepped out to get some lunch, already grumpy from resisting your persistent mom and her chosen alpha for you to mate, when you see Maki walk down the hallway like it was his runway.
Your stomach drops. Like it's survival instinct, you turn back around and speed-walk to your studio. It's like a drum war being hit inside your chest, and you hope you're fast enough because you really, really don't want to deal with him right now.
Just as you're about to close the door, a force of Maki's hands pushes it back open. You stumble backwards, eyes wide in surprise as Maki effortlessly slips inside. His body, tall and wrong and crowding, swallows the room like a black hole sucking in the light and leaving you empty and alone in the darkness.
There's a lazy smirk playing at his lips.
"If it's not my favourite ex."
His voice is dripping with honey, a sweet poison that always gets to you no matter how hard you pretend it doesn't. It's sticky and uncomfortable, it makes you squirm and feel like there's something you should be scrambling for. It gets under your skin and Maki always gets the reaction that he wants.
You snap, face pulling into a scowl.
"What do you want, Maki?"
Maki lets your voice fade, acting like he didn't hear you. With his hands in the pockets of his jeans, the young alpha straightens, easy eyes meeting your sharp ones. And when he speaks, the words roll off his tongue so smoothly, like seeing the person he used to love didn't affect him the slightest. Like you didn't have such an impact on him the way he does you.
"Did I cheat, Y/N?"
The question strikes you dumb for a moment, but you recover quickly. Of course. Words spread fast on campus, especially if the source is the frat house. You knew it'd reach Maki eventually, but you didn't expect it to be this fast. It's like every person inside that house was an extension of Maki; the golden boy, the people's favourite, the face painting every cover of magazine.
You try to hide the tremble in your fists.
"You did."
Maki hums noncommittally.
"Do you have proof?"
"Liz told me," your voice grits out, "You'd been fucking around with your new girlfriend since you were with me."
The alpha tilts his head, still wearing that laid-back expression that you wish you could slap off his face. "Did she?"
"Yes. Now get out of here, you fucking stink—"
"Why would she help you, Y/N?" Maki calmly cuts you off, a bored tone in his voice. Like he'd rather be anywhere else but here, like he'd rather deal with a child than you. His smug face makes your skin prickle. You hate how easily he can hit your nerves.
Maki takes a step closer, taunting as ever.
"Had you started thinking that you have friends now?"
It's a soft blow that lands hard in your chest. Maki used to know you, therefore he knows all the ugly parts of you. And seeing him turning every knowledge he has of you into a weapon against you feels like being forced looking into a mirror that you've spent your whole life avoiding.
Your fists shake, nails digging into soft skin, almost drawing blood.
"Even if she lied to me, you got together with your new girlfriend so quick after the breakup," you spit between gritted teeth, holding back more than words. "That told me enough."
Maki is silent for a few heartbeats, his face unreadable.
"So what?"
There's a drop in your heart. Confused, disbelieving. "What?"
"What's wrong with moving on from you so fast? You didn't think you were so special for me to weep around, did you?"
There's a vaccuumed silence that swallows you whole. His words, casually laid out like he was discussing the weather, like the matters of your heart was something he wasn't concerned about, seep into your skin and every fibre of your being. The thoughts turn and curl, igniting a numbing buzz that replays his voice like a broken record.
Special. What's so special about you?
And when even you cannot find an answer, you feel the first crack in your chest.
Maki revels in your silence; in the first sign of submission. His smugness is loud in the studio, his pheromones flaring with dominance. He advances, taking deliberate steps, circling you like a predator assessing its prey.
"You've always been like this. So fiery, so passionate. All this energy yet no particular direction to go to," he drawls out, the words tumbling out lazily. He stops right in front of you, only a few centimeters away, and makes a show of looking around your studio.
He takes in the rumpled fabric, the crumpled sketchbooks, the spilled coffee. It appears as what he just observed: too much energy with no proper control. Loud. Messy. Reckless.
You.
"You can't even keep your studio tidy, Y/N," he breathes out a sigh.
"What's so unforgettable about you?"
When you had first started fashion school, you'd been told by every living person that money couldn't buy talent. No matter how big your mother's name is in the beauty and healthcare industry, no matter how prominent your father is in the automobile sector—you're nothing more than a mundane, passing student if you don't possess talent. And here, people always feel the need to remind you of that fact, especially after learning about the affluent background you come from.
So you learned. It's not like you got here through nepotism, anyway—you got in through your own grit. Your parents had always wanted you to get into med school, and the only thing you're good with when it comes to medicines is drawing the anatomy by hand. That sketch turned into figures and furls and soon, your dream to study fashion finally bloomed.
You have the talent and you have the grit. People always pass you nice compliments and constructive feedbacks you often dwell on—but the sleepless nights didn't really matter when you could finally see your collection walking down the runway front-row. You wear your confidence loudly that sometimes it's easy to forget that some people hate shiny things.
Your designs are so forgettable.
Said the new lecturer one day, tearing your sketchbook apart in front of the whole class came the third semester.
It was humiliating; the kind that burned your skin and the back of your eyes. Your nails cracked under pressure, trying so hard not to shed tears in front of so many pairs of eyes. But no matter how hard you try to reassure yourself, the comment lingers. It becomes an invisible knife that twists each time someone so much as look at your designs the wrong way.
And the first mistake you did was open up about it to someone.
The second mistake was that someone was Maki, of all people.
Because now, that alpha—all pride and arrogance—is throwing back the exact same insult at you right in your reddening face.
What's so unforgettable about you?
What's so unforgettable about you?
What's so unforgettable about you?
"Nothing," Maki finishes, eyes never leaving your face, as if savouring every twitch of hurt in your features.
There's nothing unforgettable about you. Not your designs; someone else probably invented something far more interesting than you. Not your face; you're just another pretty omega in a sea of more pretty omegas. Not your scent; you smell like pastries that people can easily get from any bakery. And certainly not you as a whole.
That's what he meant by it, right?
You're just a plus-one. An afterthought. The reason why skip buttons exist.
A heavy lump forms in your throat.
Maki takes your silence as a win and steps back.
"Now be a good girl and retract your statement. I never cheated on you," he says with conviction that you start questioning your own truth. "It's just your omega hormones messing around with you."
The door closes with a thud, leaving behind a ringing silence, the echo of his insults bouncing off the walls. There's a thin veil of moisture in your eyes, but you refuse to cry.
You refuse to cry for the rest of your time in your studio, trying to fix some of the mess, hating yourself even more when you realise that you care about his comments more than you should.
You refuse to cry on your way home, sitting in silence at the backseat of your Uber, replaying Maki's words in an endless loop that you wish could stop.
You refuse to cry when you have nothing to eat for dinner, stomach growling in hunger for some warm, homecooked meals, yet you have to settle for takeout again.
You refuse to cry when you sit in the middle of your living room, a luxury apartment far too big for one person to live in, trying to eat the soggy noodles and too-drenched fried chicken.
But like any normal human being, you have a heart too—a soft one at that. You can only hold on for so long.
It's hard to ignore the vast, empty space of your apartment; of the two vacant rooms down the hallways; of the single mug, single cutlery set, single-everything because for some reason you half-know and half-not, you just don't have…friends. At least not those who can reach the depths of your being—just fleeting, surface-level friends. Or companion.
Or whatever it was that Maki said that finally got to your head.
The dam finally breaks when you enter your room.
For the first time in your life, your nest that you always keep tidy on the love couch you have by the window, your safe haven where you lie in to find comfort, becomes the spot that you want to avoid the most.
There, arranged into a circle, are all the things that smell like solace and consolation after a rough day—or at least used to. Maki used to be like that—used to be your person, used to be your comfort place. So it's almost pathetic that you are still clinging onto his hoodie, his sweatshirt, the mittens he gave you last winter, the plush bunny that he won at an arcade, for comfort long after the breakup happened.
God, you didn't even want that bunny. You wanted the black cat.
You pick up his hoodie. It's the one he asked you to wear during a movie night, the one he received as a gift from GAP after a modelling gig with them. With shaky hands, you press your nose into the fabric, trying to catch the person who used to care for you—the person he was before he is now.
His scent lingers, faint and fading, but it's still there. Pine and frost, cold and sharp as his features. But instead of the warm feeling that you used to get, his scent makes your stomach twist and churn, a bile rising behind your throat.
The first drop of tears slides down your cheek.
He's no longer your safe space. Hadn't been since that breakup. Hadn't been since the night he kissed another woman behind your back.
Without thinking, you throw the hoodie on the floor. The fabric lands with a soundless thud, but the indication is loud regardless. When you look back at the love couch, the sight almost breaks you into pieces.
Your nest is all destroyed.
With a cry of fury, you lunge, hands tearing his sweatshirt apart next. At your force, the plush bunny tilts sideway, further breaking the perfect circle that used to be your nest.
"It's just a nest," your voice trembles, but the words ring hollow. Inside, your wolf twists and turns, aggressively shaking her head.
A nest is never just a nest.
"I don't care!" you shout, stomping on the plush bunny. "It's not like—it's not like anything would ever comfort me anymore."
Your knees buckle, too worn after carrying the weight of your inner battles for so long. You slump on the floor, sobs wrecking your chest, the sound raw and scratched. As if on instinct, you bring your knees close to your chest, staring at the mess with a solemn, teary gaze.
You don't even know what you're crying for. It's not like you still have feelings for Maki; or at least, there's no positive feelings for him except for lingering resentment and a strong sense of betrayal.
Is it because what the destroyed nest symbolises?
That you're nothing but a lonely, easily-discarded omega?
That nothing will ever be safe enough for you to rely on anymore?
You might act strong on the outside and bite every bullet with squared shoulders, but if only they knew what you truly feel inside.
If only they knew.
A loud, shrill ringing from your phone cuts you off your silent misery. You drag your body to where your mattress is located at the center of your bedroom, your mom's contact name blinking to be picked up.
With a wipe on your cheeks and a sniffle, you answer the phone.
"My lovely daughter! How are you? Are you eating well, sweetheart?"
I just destroyed my nest. "I'm good, Mom. Just had dinner."
"Come visit this weekend! I'll send our chauffeur to you. I'm planning to—"
"Mom."
You look around your room. At the space that feels too big to fill in, the discarded fabric on the floor. Then, at your disheveled reflection in the mirror.
"Yes, daughter?"
You bite your lower lip, trembling. You look like a mess. Just like what Maki had said.
"I wanna go home."
There's a split second of silence before your mom's voice echoes again.
"You mean you wanna move back here, sweetheart?"
"Mhm," you almost sniffle but you catch yourself, not wanting to give yourself away. "I wanna live with you again."
"Oh, my! That means you agree that alpha, don't you?"
Sigh. You almost forgot about that. The silly condition your pouty mom makes if you ever want to live with them again. One that you've been trying to avoid, too busy with the fashion week preparation and planning revenge on your heartbreak.
But is there really anything to lose?
If you agree, you'll be in close proximity with what you'd say your comfort: your family, and the mansion you used to grow up in. A blind date is just free dinner and having an alpha shower your with praises and compliments. You might have to put up with a little bit of boasting here and there, but it's nothing you can't handle.
So long as you can escape this loneliness, even if only for temporary…
"Yeah," you breathe out. "I'll meet him."
Just let me go home to you, Mom.
Park Jongseong's cheek is still stinging.
But instead of acting like any other man who just got slapped would, he's wearing a giddy smile on his face. He's lying down on the couch, his apartment being the hangout spot of the day for the weekend, but thoughts about his friends are scattered away. Jay is absolutely gone and lost in cloud nine, a cherry-shaped cloud wearing the face of a certain beautiful omega that has been running on his mind as of late.
"Geez, this guy has turned crazy," Sunoo shakes his head before he nudges the older alpha. "Jay-hyung, I brought some ice packs for your cheek."
Jay absentmindedly reaches out his hand, barely registering his friend's words. "Sunoo-ya, Britney Spears was right."
Sunoo gives him a deadpanned look and then shoves the ice pack in his face. Jay yelps from the sudden cold contact.
"Ow!"
"Well, if you can't find her, I'm more than willing and capable to hit you one more time in her stead."
The older alpha huffs, pressing the cold compress into his swollen cheek. "You don't understand, Sunoo," he defends, "Her hands were so soft and she's so….beautiful."
"She slapped you."
"I deserved it."
"Yeah, cause you were ogling at her chest."
"I—" Jay gulps. Well, now it doesn't sound so good. "I mean…yeah, I did. I stared too long, in fact. That's why I said I deserved it."
Even while saying so, there's still this stupid smile decorating his handsome face. Sunoo can only shake his head, hands on his hips like a tired mom handling her teenage son's first underage drinking. It sounds that bad because it was that bad.
"I can't believe this is the end of Jay-hyung's gentleman era," Riki snorts from the floor. He's been hogging Jay's latest edition of PlayStation all to himself, secretly eavesdropping the two alpha's conversation.
Jay doesn't take it nicely. "What do you mean? I am still me."
"Mhm. Gentleman by day, boob enthusiast by night. Totally not a pervert."
Jay is open to criticism, especially anything to improve himself. But there's nothing to improve here. Jay is just…in love. Okay, that's a bit too soon. Jay is infatuated would be the best way to describe his situation right now because there's no doubt that he, as in human-Jay, and his wolf, like you.
Yes, in a romantic way. Yes, in a 'he wants to court you' way. Yes, in a 'I need her name and a priest now because he does hope he can marry you' way.
He's everything but he's not a pervert. No. And Jay has a hard time receiving criticism about his personality if it comes from a certain alpha named Nishimura Riki, and another alpha named Lee Heeseung. Call it pettiness or a vendetta, but those two have no right to say shit about him. Right now or ever.
Beside him, Sunoo starts to sigh. "Riki."
"What? At least we know why omegas like you now."
Jay's expression hardens. There's a twitch in his jaw that doesn't go unnoticed by Sunoo.
"What do you mean by that?"
Riki, still not sensing the sudden drop of temperature in the room, casually shrugs. "I'm saying maybe you've always been looking. Heeseung-hyung and I knew better."
A heavy silence blankets the room, suffocating each corner with unspoken rage. Sunoo almost recoils from the sudden bitterness that comes from Jay's pheromones. He casts a worried glance at the wounded alpha.
"Yeah." Jay lets out a quiet laugh. "Because both of you thought I'd steal your omegas."
Riki goes rigid. He puts down the console, finally registering the damage that came out of his mouth. He whips his head around, only to be met with a sharp glare from Jay.
"Jay-hyung…"
"No, let's talk about it." Jay gently pushes away Sunoo's hands that come up to comfort him, putting down the ice pack with calm fury that radiates more heat than if he had shouted. He fixes Riki with a burning glare that could've melted the ice pack.
"Let's talk about how I am always the collateral damage of your love story."
Riki gulps. Truthfully, he has never seen Jay angry. And even when he did, that anger was never directed to him. But this time, being the receiving end of such disappointed eyes, Riki wishes the ground would swallow him whole.
"Jay-hyung, you know I don't mean it like that."
"Which part? The pervert part? Because you and Heeseung surely treat me like one whenever your omegas are around," Jay says, still soft, but the venom is there. "As if I was some horny wolf waiting for the time to pounce on them. Let me ask you, Riki. What was so wrong with wanting to help you when you literally asked me for help?"
"I—I know. You're never wrong—" Riki swallows, too paralysed from how fast the situation took its bad turn. "I just…shit. I'm sorry, hyung. You're such a good alpha—"
"Am I, really? Because with you two, I never feel like one."
Riki tries to say something back, mouth gaping like fish out of water. Jay heaves out a long sigh, ruffling his already-messy hair. As if on cue, the door to his apartment opens and comes in Heeseung, whose eyes immediately widen in alarm upon sensing the tension in the living room.
"What are we fighting about?"
"About your terrible jealousy issues," Jay grits through his teeth, looking up to meet eyes with Heeseung. The latter almost flinches from how sharp his gaze is. Jay takes another deep breath.
"God, you know what? I understand jealousy. I truly do. I wouldn't want any alpha near my omega too. But that would be any alpha but you two. Because I trust you. I trust you so much and it actually," Jay halts for a moment, realising how intense his emotions have been running. But the reassuring pat from Sunoo serves as his motivation.
He needs to say this. He needs to. Otherwise he'd drown in undeserving guilt and shrink himself again.
"It actually hurts when you guys don't feel the same about me."
The tension thickens it could be cut with a knife. Riki's expression crumples, the alpha who's usually prideful and cocky is now in shambles upon seeing his older alpha breaking down like this. Heeseung fails to find any words, the guilt is lodged in his throat that barely any voice would come out, blocking any syllables from being spoken.
"I just wanted to help. My kindness has no underlying meanings. I didn't offer to help because I wanted to have your omega in bed, Riki. I was thinking about you. I was thinking how I could stop you from crying because you were my friend first and it—it hurt to see you cry so much like that."
Jay is still soft. His voice is still gentle, and that's what makes this whole situation uglier. That's what makes the guilt press harder. Both alphas in question could only stare at their feet, reflecting on their actions towards Jay.
"And you, Heeseung. Would you rather have your mate get soaked that night?" Jay doesn't let him answer. "I don't think you would. I couldn't just leave knowing she'd get drenched in the rain, knowing how much my friend cherishes her and would freak out if she got sick."
Heeseung purses his lips. He was so busy mending what was broken with his omega that he didn't realise how much he's been hurting his friend.
The apartment is silent, save for the PlayStation menu playing its music on loop. Riki can't bring himself to look at Jay, perfectly fine with tucking his chin low and hiidng his shame. Heeseung still has a hand on the doorknob, the metal feels cold on his slippery palm.
"Jay-ah…"
"I'll be in my room. I want to be alone for a moment."
The anger has long left his body. All he feels now is exhaustion and relief, like finally putting back a heavy backpack he's been carrying for months.
The three watch as Jay disappears behind the door of his master bedroom. It closes with a gentle click, as if even in anger and disappointment, Jay wouldn't ever be harsh to his friends. Heeseung and Riki immediately let out a breath they didn't know they were holding while Sunoo watches them with amusement.
"It took him a lot of courage to say that, you know." Sunoo takes a seat on the couch, grabbing the console that was left untouched by Riki. "You guys better apologise and make up to him properly."
"I am such an asshole," Riki whines and drapes his body across the couch, letting his head fall into Sunoo's lap despite his protest. "Hyung was right. It's all about trust. And I was acting like an insecure dog."
Sunoo snorts. "You're a big puppy, Riki."
Heeseung is still quiet. The memory of the punch that almost landed on Jay's face still haunts him, even before the confrontation. He knew it needed to be talked about eventually, he just didn't expect it to be in a situation like this. But alas, Jay has been a sponge that absorbs everybody's emotions, the reliable one—it's about time that the patient alpha loses it.
Just as he's about to enter the apartment fully, the door is suddenly pushed open from behind and Heeseung gets shoved inside instead. Immediately, the smell of burnt chocolate fills the air and the insults he prepares for the intruder die on his tongue.
"Sunoo-hyung!" Jungwon barges in, a pout protruding on his lips. "Noona called me his little brother again!"
Oh, Goddess of the Moon. Please protect this friendship.
Heeseung walks silently to his room, ignoring the trio alpha now fighting for Sunoo's attention. Jungwon, however, upon seeing Riki, immediately scowls at the younger. His pout disappears and his complaints die in his throat.
"YOU! Nishimura Riki. You're not cheating, aren't you?"
Riki blinks confusedly.
"Cheating? In FIFA or PUBG?"
"On your girlfriend!"
"Fuck, no!" The blond-haired alpha sits up, taking full offence from the sudden accusation. "I would jump off the cliff first before I'd ever dare cheat on my lovely mate. What the fuck are you on? You know I'm loyal as fuck."
Sunoo pinches his arm. "That's too many curse words, Riki."
Jungwon shakes his head. He pushes the younger off the couch and claims his previous spot, laying his head comfortably on Sunoo's lap. The scandalised look on Riki's face hasn't faded, the alpha is still glaring at Jungwon like he has offended Riki's ancestors.
"Nothing. There was just this omega yelling about getting cheated on during last Friday's party."
"And? What does that have to do with me?"
"The cheater's name is also Riki! You don't know how disappointed and heartbroken I was for those three seconds when I thought it was Nishimura Riki. It turned out to be Hirota Riki," Jungwon nudges Sunoo's hand, urging the older to pat his head. He's still heartbroken, please comfort him, thank you. "I was so close to committing a murder on you that night."
With that explanation, a look of understanding passes Riki's face. He slumps and sprawls on the floor, relief bleeding out of his muscle.
"Oh. That's Maki. Riki C. He's the disgraceful Riki. I don't fuck with him. Not anymore."
"You better not!" Jungwon hisses at him like an angry kitten.
"Wait, so you're Riki B?" Sunoo tilts his head. One of his hands is playing with Jungwon's hair. "Then who is Riki A?"
"The other Riki is Taki, and no, I am Riki D, because this dick—"
"Nishimura Riki!" Sunoo and Jungwon simultaneously yell, drawing out a cheeky laugh from the youngest.
From inside his room, Heeseung could hear the commotion. He shakes his head. Oh, Goddess of the Moon. Please save Nishimura Riki.
Living with your parents has been as peaceful as it can get. Nothing much can be said, considering that it has only been a week.
For the time being, you manage to get your mom off your back about meeting this handsome alpha that she'd like to have as a son-in-law. You hide behind the excuse of being busy with the fashion week, which is not totally a lie.
Fashion week is one of the biggest assessments there is. It means two months of outsourcing high-quality fabrics, sketching and crumpling papers and sketching, hours spent in the studio, finding suitable models for your runway and, the most important part: piecing your imagination and hardwork into a clothing worth wearing and parading.
Which is why you're spending your time in the studio on a Saturday, leisurely going over your sketches again as you wait for your fabrics to arrive. It had been preordered a month ago and the delivery was scheduled today. Precisely, two hours ago.
But you try not to worry. It's only 12 p.m., and there's probably traffic on the road since the working civilians are supposed to be having lunch now. But one hour turns into two. Then another one passes.
Before you know it, it's almost five in the evening, yet there's no sight of a truck or even a ring from the company itself. By the time you dial their office number, you have already done a cherry set on your nails, tidied up the space to accommodate your resources, and even sketched a whole damn new collection.
"Hello, this is The Nakakita. How may I help you?"
The Nakakita. A Japanaese establishment that is owned by the Nakakita family. You wouldn't have gotten in touch with such a prestigious supplier of the Japanese fabric materials had it not been for your cheating ex's connection in the fashion industry.
Maki is all things, and resourceful is one of them.
"Good evening. I'm Y/N. There's supposed to be a delivery for order #1284 today to my studio. Japanese denim, linen cotton, blended silk?"
Well, you might have sounded too demanding. But that's the least of your concern now.
"Oh, Miss Y/N. I'm terribly sorry, but this order was cancelled."
If your jaw could drop down to the ground right now, it would cause a huge-scale earthquake across the city.
"What? I never cancelled it, though?"
There is a sound of clicking on the keyboard from the end of the line. "Um…it was cancelled by the account holder two weeks ago. By Mr. Hirota Riki, approved by the heir himself, Mr. Nakakita Yuma."
What the actual fuck. Two weeks ago was when Maki had confronted you about the rumour spreading about his infidelity. Despite feeling a bit intimidated (not that you'd ever admit), you did no such thing and let his reputation continue to get tarnished. You still firmly believe that he did cheat and whatever manipulation he pulled on you was just an attempt at making you feel miserable.
Not only is his ego as big as he is and a gaslighter, but he is petty, too?!
You let out a disbelieving scoff. Oh my Goddess…That alpha is really something else. As if shattering your dream of having a mate wasn't enough, now he wants to interfere with your career path as well?
What a fucking weirdo.
"So, what happened to all those fabrics? I already paid for the deposit."
"Based on this record, it has been delivered to Miss Kim Areum three days ago and your money is in the process of being refunded back to your bank account."
And as if all of those things weren't enough to pull you under, Maki just has to deliver the final blow to the most sensitive part of your heart.
Of course he'd give those resources to his new girlfriend. Of fucking course.
It's like a cellotape on skin. Peeling it off would sting, taking away your body hair that gives you heat, and leaving sticky residue that wouldn't come off easily. Your relationship with Maki—during and after the breakup—has always left you with this hollow, sinking feeling that weighs heavy on your shoulders.
No matter what you did, if the relationship has ended or not, it'll always leave burn marks that you have been trying so hard to heal. And whether the world has moved on or not, it's always you bearing the ugly aftermath.
"…Miss?"
"I see," you finally speak, voice hoarse from suppressed anger. "Let Yuma know that my attorney will be in contact with your team soon."
"Wait—"
Not letting them finish, you end the call and toss your phone on the couch. Your perfectly blowed hair is now disheveled, untamed by your fingers as you pace the room. There's unshed tears hanging low on your waterline, waiting for the time to fall down, yet you still refuse to give in.
"Fuck!"
It's so unfair. It's so fucking unfair. It wasn't you who left, nor was it you who cheated and being disloyal—yet you are the one who have to pay the price for his crumpling ego? And now he's putting your hard-earned place in the fashion school on the line?
What a fucking manchild.
"What am I supposed to do? Goddess, help me—what am I supposed to do?"
You sink into the couch, the tears now slide down your cheeks with no restraints. There's a choked sob coming out of your throat, your scent souring with every hiccup slipping past your lips.
Time is not a luxury that you can afford now. Confronting Maki would only mess with your head more and result in nothing. You'd love to find a way to sue The Nakakita, but that's a matter that you'd like to solve after the fashion week ends.
Fuck. You barely have two months on your hands, yet you have just lost your resources that you have ordered a month ago. Finding a new supplier would be tough—since not many of them would take indiviual customers due to economies of scale. You are no wholesaler or retailer; catering to you would be expensive for them.
But you have to find a way somehow.
With a shaky hand, you tuck your hair behind your ears and grab your laptop. The tears are uncontrollable at this point, but it's not a sign to give up or stop. Your dainty fingers start typing fast on the keyboard, trying to search for any textile businesses that would make some space for you.
This is not how you imagine your evening would end. You had pictured measuring and cutting fabric pieces to fit your six-piece collection, getting prepared to start assembling them and fitting your models.
Yet here you are, giving calls after calls, accepting rejection after rejection from every business you try to contact. It's exhausting, the tears are now just cracked vulnerbaility on your cheeks. Somewhere along the way, you have accidentally snapped your manicured nails while typing.
"I'm sorry, you have to place an order three months prior in order to secure the fabrics."
This is the sixth one.
You barely hold back a sigh. "I see. Thank you for your time."
You slam your phone on the couch and start rubbing your face. This is hell. You're sure a truck had hit you somewhere on the road and this is your hell, punishing you for being such a bitchy omega to everyone around you.
But how could you not be one when everybody always gives you a reason to protect yourself?
Taking in a shuddering breath, you open your bleary eyes and stare at another line of name on the screen.
Sinar Textile.
It's operating until 8 p.m., which is unusual for many companies. Talking about the time, your stomach growls on instinct, as if reminding you of the skipped lunch and forgotten dinner that you are yet to acknowledge.
"This is the last one," you whisper to yourself. "If this too fails, I will fucking kill Maki."
You punch the number on your phone screen, exhaustion clinging to every movement. It's inhumane to sabotage someone like this; you wonder if you can sue Maki too somehow. He deserves it more than anyone in this world.
It takes five rings before the call gets picked up. A cheery voice greets you.
"Good evening! I am Jake from Sinar Textile. How can I help you?"
You rub your temple, appreciating the friendly tone while it lasts before you start threatening this poor Jake to agree to your proposal.
"Hi. I'm Y/N. I'm looking for a few bolts of fabric for my upcoming collection."
A rustle is heard from Jake's side. "Hello, Miss Y/N. When do you need the fabrics?"
You tap your fingers on your thigh. "Two weeks from now."
There's a few seconds of silence before Jake speaks again. "Are you a wholesaler or a retailer?"
I fucking knew it. "Um," you gnaw at your bottom lip, nerves grating your edges. "Neither. I'm in fashion school, and I need them for my fashion week."
Please. Please accept me. Please take my request. Oh Goddess, this is the least you can do for justice.
But unfortunately, Jake is not your Goddess. "I am sorry, Miss Y/N, but our business strictly provides for wholesaling and retailing establishments only. As for indivi—"
"Please," you let out before you could stop yourself. "I'll take scraps or leftovers. Or even any cancelled order. I'll take anything but please don't turn me down."
You are never one to beg. Especially not to alphas. And while you're not sure about Jake's secondary gender, he's still a man and it still feels humiliating to beg.
But you don't have many choices now, do you? You care more about your degree than your dignity as of now.
The hesitance in Jake's silence is loud. "Miss Y/N, I am a mere part-timer here. I'm afraid I don't have the power to decide."
"Then let me talk to the person in charge, please."
You feel bad for Jake for putting him in a tough spot like this. But to be fair, he's receiving your kindest energy now—since you've lashed out on many other receptionists prior to this call, when you were still brimming with anger.
"Please wait a moment."
You inhale sharply. Is this really happening?
It doesn't take long before a feminine voice takes over the call. "Hello. You're speaking to the CEO of Sinar Textile. I am Mrs. Park."
You straighten up. "H-Hello, Mrs. Park. I apologise for the late disturbance."
The woman hums. "It is not a big deal. My receptionist has told me about your situation. Unfortunately, we do not supply for individuals like you."
The hope blooming in your chest deflates instantly. You close your eyes as you gather your composure.
"I—Please, ma'am. I don't know how to tell you that I desperately need them for my fashion week." For a strange reason, you feel yhe need to give her context. You're no careless student who forgot to book her supplier until last minute—you just got sabotaged. "My supplier terminated our agreement after my…ex-boyfriend intervened."
The woman seems to consider this, as her next words give you a sliver of hopium. "Please email me your sketches. Then I will consider. What's your name again, Miss?"
"Y/N. I am Y/N."
"Y/N?" She repeats, and if you tried to listen hard enough, you'd be able to detect the hint of recognition in her tone. "Great, Miss Y/N. Email me at [email protected], then I will let you know my decision."
Relief floods your senses like a tidal wave. With trembling lips, you try to piece your words together.
"Thank you, Mrs. Park. I—I'll take anything. Leftovers—or any defects. I can do it. Please consider my request."
"No worries, Miss Y/N. I'll get back to you the soonest tomorrow."
And with that, the call ends. You slump in your seat.
You could've gotten the details of their wholesale customers and buy from them, but from experience, you knew that getting the materials directly from the sources is hundreds time better in terms of quality and the price. And you have reports to submit much later on, where your budgeting would be questioned like you just laundered the national income.
Later that night, you arrive home with this aching need to be comforted. Instead of a pile of all the soothing scents you've encountered in your life, you open the door to your empty bed, void of any nest. Your mom's bedroom is just one door away, but it's too late to ask for cuddles, isn't it?
You open your wardrobe, staring at the empty spot where your nesting blankets used to be.
"It's just a nest," you convince yourself. "I'll feel better after waking up."
Completely ignoring the twisting pain in your gut, you settle yourself under the cover after washing up.
Sundays are fun days, and this time, your kind of fun is rushing your chauffeur to take you to your studio and threatening him into disregarding every traffic rule he's ever learned about.
"Miss, the light is red."
"I don't care."
"We will get fined."
"I will pay," you urge.
The chauffeur closes his eyes. "Please don't tell your mother."
And that's how a fifteen-minute drive could be cut into ten minutes of ride only. Your thanks barely leaves your lips as you rushes out, trying your best to look put-together while also lightly sprinting to the private studio that you've rented since your first year, located inside the university compound.
This morning, you woke up to an email from Sinar Textile. Mrs. Park, bless her heart—seems so taken with your sketches and has decided to give you some leftovers of their previous arriving batch from Japan. It's like the Goddess has finally taken pity on you overnight, and proving that the evil shall perish altogether (Fuck you, Maki).
You spend the entire ride mentally redesigning half your collection. Leftovers are more than enough. You'll make them work. You always do.
By the time you reach the studio, your mood has improved significantly.
There are bolts of fabric, stacked near the door to your studio. Two men wearing short-sleeved Polo stand around the stack, chatting with each other while waiting for your arrival. You waste not even a second and approach them faster.
"Good morning!" You greet them enthusiastically, so unusually you, but you're too giddy to care. "Are you from Sinar Textile?"
The shorter of the two greets you back, a puppylike smile stretching wide on his face. "Hello! You must be Miss Y/N. I'm Jake, and this is Sunghoon. We are the part-timers from Sinar Textile."
The latter bows to you. Up close, you finally notice the wolf ears nestling among his pitch-black hair. Oh, so he's a wolf hybrid. No wonder his pheromones are still strong to your nose despite the thick scent patch glued to his neck.
Well, first of all—Sinar Textile sure hires only super good-looking guys to work with them. If you weren't so into your post-breakup feelings, you might think about asking for their numbers after this.
"Nice to meet you two. Now, shall we?"
"We're waiting for Jay."
Your brow jumps at that. Who is that? "Jay? Is he supposed to be here?"
"Yeap! He went to take the last bolt of your Japanese denim—oh there he is!"
You know the saying, every good thing comes with a price? While yes, there is a price tag to every bolt of fabric tha you receive from Sinar Textile today—apparently, there is a hidden tax that you have to pay the Goddess for granting you with this opportunity after Maki's stupid stunt yesterday.
And that tax is Jay. Or more precisely, if your memory hasn't betrayed you—the pervert alpha from the frat house party a few weeks ago.
There he is indeed, walking down the hallway in a similar black Polo shirt. He's carrying a bolt of Japanese denim, but does he have to carry it on his shoulder like that? It looks so show-off-y, what with the way his biceps stretch against the sleeves, bulging muscle straining under the weight of the fabric. His face is as handsome as you remember it, and without the dim light of the porch, every cut of his face is clearer for your eyes to see now in broad daylight.
Damn it. Why does he have to be so infuriatingly good-looking?
Your smile has never dropped so fast, but it's the opposite case for the alpha, because as soon as he recognises you—you've never seen a smile light up so fast.
"Cherry?"
You could barely tone down your irritation. Who the hell is Cherry?
"Are you the other part-timer?"
Jay blinks confusedly. He glances at the clipboard in his hand, and then his eyes widen imperceptibly.
"Oh—I apologise. You're Miss Y/N, right?"
"Yes, that's me," you narrow your eyes at him. But Jay only smiles back. "And you are Jay."
His eyes shine—what the heck?—at the mention of his name. "You know my name? It's actually Park Jongseong, but you can call me Jay. It sounds better when you say it."
You try to ignore the offended gasp coming from Jake.
"Are you flirting with me?"
"I'm not!" Jay is fast to deflect, shaking his head when you only stare at him thretaeningly. "I just—I think—I just want to…talk to you?"
Jake and Sunghoon wince from sheer awkwardness.
"Aren't you here for Sinar Textile?"
"Yes."
"Then we're here strictly for business. I am going to open my door and you three will carry the bolts inside, and then you leave. Understand?"
If Jay were to have wolf ears like Sunghoon, they'd droop like wilting flowers from your tone alone. "I understand," he gives in, then shoots a serious look at two of his friends behind you.
"Boys, let's get moving!"
Jake springs up with a salute. "Aye aye, captain!"
You sigh and unlock the door to give way to them. The three boys lift two bolts at the same time, marching in like soldiers ready for the battlefield. Jay stops briefly in front of you, and you prepare another scolding if he tried to say something absurd again.
"Where would you like these?"
You almost falter by the unexpected, but you don't let it show. "At that corner. I tidied up that space for these bolts yesterday."
Jay nods and wordlessly steps further inside. You watch as the three men move effortlessly together, avoiding mannequins and putting down the bolts gently like true experts. They seem close, judging by how at ease they are with each other. Probably just three best friends working part-time together to kill the time while gaining extra pocket money.
Jake, being the first one to reach the corner, claps his hands and looks around. There's amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Wow, this is my first time at the fashion building and I already got to be in a private studio."
You quirk up an eyebrow. "Are you from around here?"
There's a surprised chuckle from the beta. He slaps a hand on Sunghoon's shoulder, but the wolf hybrid barely budges.
"Yeah, we attend this university too! I am from engineering, Sunghoon is from law school, and Jay is from the business department—obviously, if he wants to inherit this company."
Your curiousity is growing like a moving snowball. "Inherit…?"
"Sinar Textile is owned by his parents. He's just doing this on the weekend when he's got nothing to do with his basketball team," Jake casually says like he didn't just drop the bombest bomb you've heard the entire week.
That says a lot, considering The Nakakita incident yesterday.
And—What?! Sinar Textile is—what—so Mrs. Park is his mother?
You are left with no words. Not that you could muster anything, when said guy is already speaking. "Stop referring to me like I'm not in the same room as you."
Jake pouts at that. "Well, you're busy with your clipboard, so why not?"
"I am counting the inventory and preparing the invoice for Miss Y/N," Jay smoothly says, while he's scribbling something on the clipboard. You ignore the efficient way his hand moves, the veins popping on his forearms, and the pout he makes when he's focusing.
When he chances you a glance, you scowl back at him. The alpha only smiles.
It's so irritating. Why does he keep smiling?
"Alright boys, get back to the van. I'll follow you after I'm done with the invoice."
"Stop bossing me around! We are the same age!" Jake protests.
"Well, technically, I am your boss."
"A boss baby! You are not even the CEO yet!"
Sunghoon only sighs and drags Jake by the arm to follow him. He stops momentarily in front of you, gives you a short bow and a 'thanks'—that you reply back with a 'thanks' too, what the heck?—before he leaves with the beta. Jake waves his hand at you, his previous pout melting into a wide grin.
"See you again, Miss Y/N!!! Please invite me to your fashion week!"
If it weren't for Sunghoon's tail and wolf ears, you'd think that Jake was the hybrid. Probably golden retriever—that seems to suit him more.
It's only when Jay clears his throat that you're reminded you're left alone with him in this studio. Instinctively, you back into the door, putting more distance between the two of you. Jay doesn't seem to mind or take offence, he just gives you that easy smile that's been putting you on edge since fifteen minutes ago.
"Two bolts for Japanese denim, linen cotton, and blended silk each. This is your invoice. You may make the first payment when we send you an email," Jay speaks, his tone professional, as he hands you a piece of paper the size of A4. "Please sign here."
You take the pen painfully slowly, trying to avoid any physical contact, and sign.
"If you need anything more, please feel free to contact me." You glare at him. "Or any of us, really! But don't hesitate—my mom told me to put you on our priority list."
There he goes again. Typical alpha trying to flirt his way into your pants. As if you had forgotten about his perverted gaze a few weeks ago!
You cross your arms and dare to look into his eyes. "Thank you. I will contact Jake."
Jay purses his lips. "That's great. Jake works every Saturday and Sunday, while Sunghoon works after 3 p.m. on weekdays. Please feel free to reach out."
He opens his mouth, seemingly to add something, but decides against it when he smiles instead.
"It's actually nice to see you again," he mutters almost quietly, his tone soft and delicate, the grip of professionalism loosening. "I've been hoping I could run into you again."
But you're not easily swayed by sweet-faced alphas like him. "So you can, what, stare at my chest again?"
Jay's ears perk and blush a deep shade of pink. "What? No! Y/N—" he shakes his head, eyes pleading. "I really meant it when I said that I didn't mean to! I swear I'm not a pervert. Please forgive me."
"But you still stared."
"I…did." His voice becomes quieter, the confession feels like cold air hanging in the studio.
Jay shifts in place. The way you stare at him all cold and menacingly seems to undo him more than anything. From where he stands, he can catch a whiff of your scent—the sweet cherry that's been haunting him since that night.
You're so pretty even when you're mad, glaring at him like some kind of a criminal like this. A sight that he's not used to, because people often look at him like an angel sent from the Goddess as an apology on behalf of the alpha population.
"Y/N," he begins, already making up his mind. Your name falls easily from his lips now that he finally gets the chance to know it. "I would like to apologise. I made you feel uncomfortable twice, and probably unsafe, too. I deserved to get beaten more than what you did that night."
"Yeah, I should poke your eyes for good measure. Making sure your eyes don't stare at omegas like that again."
"I don't do that with other omegas, though. Only with you."
"So, congratulations? I'm your first victim?"
Jay panics. "No!"
"Your favourite victim?"
"No!"
"Your exclusive victim?"
"Please stop saying victim."
"Then stop staring at my boobs. You're doing it again." The corner of your lips lifts when the crimson on his ears deepens. Okay. It's kind of fun teasing him, and truthfully, you're no longer that upset from his behaviour that night.
"No, I'm sorry," Jay dips his head lower, staring at his feet, not catching your intention. "It's very wrong of me. I sincerely apologise. Please forgive me."
Your heart does something strange. The sincerity in his voice is unlike any other you've heard from not even a single alpha before. It's raw with honesty and vulnerability, like he actually spends every night dwelling on this mistake of a first impression he had made of himself.
But you say nothing. You simply stare at the alpha whose eyes are remorsely fixed on the ground.
"I know you probably don't trust me."
You snort. "Obviously."
"But I hope one day you'll feel safe around me."
There it goes again—your heart, lurching like Jay was a K-drama main lead saying something corny to win the heroine over. But this is not fiction, and Jay is not your alpha, nor are you his omega.
"Are you threatening me with a next time?"
He shifts again. "May I earn another first impression someday?"
You almost scoff at that. You wish there's no next time or someday! ...Though, you admit, if you put aside the two—or three if you count just now—times he stared at your boobs, it has been quite alright to talk to him.
He just has this aura that puts people at ease around him. Maybe it's his face, or the citrusy scent coming from him that easily tops every other masculine pheromones you have ever sniffed, but Jay just has a way with words that makes you feel like old acquaintances.
Whatever. A pervert is still a pervert!
"Actually, my family has chosen an alpha for me."
Jay's smile falters. "Oh."
You lift your chin proudly. "Yeah! Apparently his family is very wealthy, and he's ridiculously handsome too."
Jay only blinks at you, taking every hint of rejection like a champ. "I see. I mean—that's what you deserve. An omega like you doesn't deserve anything less than that."
Your eye twitches. Why is he so damn good with words? You can't tell if it's genuinelt who he is or if it's all performative. And that infuriates you.
With a newfound determination to flaunt an unknown alpha, you triumphantly nod. "And everyone says that he's the most perfect gentleman. My mom said that he's—" How was he again? "—Very capable and hardworking. I can't wait to marry him!"
Now, you're pushing it. You don't want to marry that alpha. Hell, you're just about to accept the dinner invitation after this!
"That's good…" Jay scratches his cheek. Damn it. Jay realises that you're really trying hard to reject him, even when he hasn't said explicitly that he likes you.
But Jay is a man who can take a hint.
"That's quite a reputation. I really hope he treats you well."
"He will."
Jay purses his lips, trying to swallow down his disappointment. Of course. A pretty omega like you is rarely ever single or unclaimed, even though he doesn't see any mark on your nape or sense any alpha presence around your scent.
Sigh. Just as he finally found an omega that he genuinely likes.
"I wish you and your alpha the best, Miss Y/N." Jay lowers himself to a 90-degree bow. "Thank you for trusting Sinar Textile, and I'm sorry again."
And with that, Jay takes his leave, until the echo of his footsteps fades into oblivion. Once you're confident that you're out of his earshot, you instantly fish for your phone and call your mother.
"Mom!"
"Hello darling~ Did everything go well with the shipment?"
You bite your nails. "Yes, yes it did. Mom, I need your help."
"What is it, sweetheart? Have you finally decided to buy that new handbag from Bonia?"
"No, Mom. I think," you close your eyes and sigh exasperatedly. Truly, there's no one else that puts you in worst case scenarios but yourself and your life decisions.
"I think I'm ready to meet that alpha that you like so much."
As expected, your mother squeals into the phone and you have to force your phone away from your ears.
Great.
Now you have to mentally prepare yourself to sit with an alpha boasting about his wealth and alpha-ic achievements for approximately two hours.
All because you wanted to avoid Jay.
Or so you thought.
Of course, fate—the little evil author that it is—decides that humiliation ritual would be the perfect trope for your failing love life.
Because why the hell are you seeing Jay coming out of the black Mercedes now parked in your mansion?!
"Mom!" You whisper-yell, already halfway bolting upstairs when you see him and his parents start walking towards the door of your house. "You said that the alpha's name was Park Jongseong!"
Your mom, who's been gushing over how handsome and perfect Jay is for you from behind the curtain where the both of you are spying on the newly-arrived guests, only nudges your shoulder gently.
"He is Park Jongseong. And those are Mr. and Mrs. Park."
"No! That's—that's Jay!"
Your mom coos, fanning her face dramatically and turning to your father. "Oh my, honey, did you hear that? They're already on nickname terms with each other."
You feel like climbing the stairs and purposely falling and rolling down to the ground.
This cannot be real!
"Wait," your mother suddenly stops her dramatic gesture. She fixes you with a curious gaze, eyes squinting suspiciously.
"How do you know him?"
Maybe jumping would be faster and easier.
On the other side of the door, Jay has been fiddling with the collar of his suit for the tenth time. Beside him, Mrs. Park is frowning, swatting at his hand when he reaches for his tie again.
"Why are you fixing your tie again? It already looks perfect."
Jay swallows. "I don't know."
No, he actually knows why. Jay has never been able to lie truthfully—an irony that always amuses his friends. His body is vibrating with never-ending nerves ever since he had reluctantly agreed to his mother's planned family dinner with the omega she has taken a liking too.
Yeap. To put it simply, Jay is nervous.
And his mother catches it, if the soothing accent of her scent is telling something. "You'll like her," she convinces. Then, as if it was an afterthought, she adds, "You already met her."
If Jay was shocked, he didn't let it show.
Well, it doesn't matter, does it? When his wolf and himself have been so captivated by you.
Whoever this omega is, Jay wants to apologise in advance. He thinks he needs a couple of months to properly move on from the wonder of you before he'll be ready to accept any dating arrangement again.
"If you're confident that I'll like her, then I hope she's the person I have on my mind, Mom."
And that is the truth. If he had already met this omega and his mother's instincts are sure that he'd fall for her—then it can't be no one else but you.
Jay had crossed paths with many omegas. He had been flirted with, pursued, and even outright confessed to more times than he could count, yet no one had occupied his thoughts quite like you.
And to think that you're spending your time with another alpha…
Jay swallows down the bitterness and forces his pheromones to calm down.
Too lost in his frantic, chaotic mind, Jay hasn't realised that he's already standing in front of the door. It swings open before any of them could press the doorbell, revealing a beautiful couple and…
"Cherry?"
His cherry.
When the scowl appears on your face, Jay feels like a diver finally coming up to the surface for air. The nerves that have been jagging every edge vanish almost instantly, now replaced with a relief so profound it feels like being given a second chance at life again.
It's really. Really. You.
"It's Y/N, you dummy."
That hostile gaze. That frown and unfriendly tone.
It's really you.
The smile that spreads across Jay's face is so hopelessly fond that Mrs. Park immediately knows she doesn't have to do any matchmaking tonight. Your frown deepens, hating the blatant display of joy that's coming from him.
What is he so giddy about?!
Meanwhile, your mother is completely oblivious to the glare you're shooting at him.
"I told you, they're already using endearments for each other!"
You hope the ground could swallow you.
Jay hopes the ground could move and bring him closer to you.
.𖥔 ݁ SYNOPSIS . after getting publicly broken up with because of a misspread rumor, you move away to "heal" and "start over". when you come back after months and see your ex and said person—who spread those rumors about you—getting closer each day, you realize maybe you shouldn't have ever come back. and it definitely doesn't help when your ex starts giving you mixed signals about everything.
PAIRING ex!jake x fem!reader
FEATURING aespa ningning, riize shotaro, nct haechan, le sserafim yunjin +enhypen
✎ wc 1.8k
TAGS smau (+written) ; crack ; university au ; lots of miscommunication ; dumbass jake ; cringey moments ; cliche 𝓦 none that I can think of other than suggestive comments?
If there was a man you knew you could always count on, it would be your dad. He was always there for you, never broke your heart and always believed you would achieve whatever it was you wanted to achieve.
When you first received the news, your heart shattered. You were having a great day with him, a father-daughter date just a few months after you found out your parents were planning on divorcing. But then he started coughing out blood, you remember how traumatized you were, the paramedics had to do a check up on you. It was horrible.
But here you were now, almost two years later, at the same fair you had been when you first found out.
“Let me win you a stuffed animal.” You wiggled your eyebrows, making your dad laugh as he took the cotton candy from your hand to let you play the game.
You were the youngest out of four, so naturally, you were your dad’s favorite. Sure, he loved all of his children equally, but he saw himself in you. The strong part and the weak part, but at the same time, he knew how much stronger you were than him.
“We’re going to be here all day if you keep trying to win me something, hon.”
You scoffed at his comment. He was right, unfortunately. You were never good at this kind of games, maybe at Mario kart, but never at the ones that had targets
“Dude, I swear I’ll win you something! Even if it’s the littlest thing ever!” You shot the gun, hitting the target. You cheered loudly, earning a few looks from other people.
You turned to your dad who also cheered, giving you thumbs up. You smiled proudly and kept playing, and after a while, you won a stuffed animal. A very small one, but it was a stuffed animal.
“Well, will you look at that? My daughter is not a failure. I’m proud.” He held the stuffed animal to his heart. You hit his arm, making him laugh. “I’m joking. You did great, kiddo.”
“Well, duh!” You rolled your eyes playfully.
He gave you your cotton candy back and you took a big bite out of it, the candy sticking to your face. And it was at that moment where your dad realized you were just a little girl to him, his little girl.
And funnily enough, you didn’t even like cotton candy like that. You just bought it because your dad thought it was your favorite, you accepted it of course, you didn’t want to disappoint your dad. He was the last person you wanted to disappoint.
A few hours later, you and your dad were walking across town after leaving the fair. You stumbled across a tteokbokki stand and obviously had to buy some. So now, you were sitting on one of the few empty benches, both hungrily stuffing your mouth with the tteokbokki.
“This reminds me of the tteokbokki I used to buy after school.” You said between bites.
Your dad scrunched his nose in disgust. “Is that why you never ate at home?” He asks.
You froze then continued eating, shaking your head. “I don’t like mom’s cooking.” You confessed, making him laugh out loud.
“Don’t be mean.”
“It’s the truth!” You sputtered as you swallowed the food. “Seriously, went oh first left, the house smelled like it was being burnt down. I’m being serious.” He laughed, making you laugh. “Don’t laugh!”
He covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing, making you smile widely, eyes completely shut.
“Okay, so,” he poked his food. “Tell me about your life lately, hon. Any drama?” You furrowed your eyebrows at his question, making him shrug. “Can a dad not want to be in the drama?”
You snorted. “You’re so weird.”
“You are the only one who seems tot think that.”
You played with your food and shrugged. “I’ve been good. No drama…that bad.” You answered.
Your dad hummed, “that was a little sus…”
“You did not just say sus, dad.” He chuckled, “fine, I’ll give you tea. Supposedly, a girl from my school bewitched Jaeyun to make him fall out of love with me or something,” you shrugged casually.
“That’s insane.” He said, “would you hate me if I said I believed it’s true?” You stared at him, “that kid’s in love with you. No spell could make him feel otherwise.”
“Were you…were you not there when I told you what happened before I left for New York?” You tilted your head in confusion.
He nodded. “Of course I was, sweetheart. You guys are young, you go through things all the time, it’s part of life.”
“Should I be taking advice from someone who got cheated on by the same person they’ve been with since they were seventeen?”
He gasped, held his heart and frowned. “Throw a dagger at my heart and it would’ve hurt less, honey.”
You chuckled, “Sorry.”
Your dad nodded and placed his utensil on the plate. “Maybe not advice, but when your mother and I first started dating, we also had our ups and downs in university. It’s a big change of scenery, people change. And sometimes it does damage relationships but that’s why we communicate with each other.” You stayed silent during his talk, “Now, I don't know what you kids are up to now-a-days, but I do know rumors are a huge thing around your generation–like to ruin relationships and everything. Jakey was dumb to believe that girl’s words over yours, bewitched or not, and let me tell you,” He gestured you to scoot closer, and you did. “He’ll regret those words forever. They will haunt them whether you forgive him or not. Because now he knows he treated you wrong, he should’ve known from the start, but that's what we call process. It takes time to fix your mistakes. Jakey is a good boy, he’ll learn from his mistakes. But you don’t have to forgive him if you think it’s what’s best.”
You frowned, not really knowing what to say.
“I know he still loves you dearly. Just like how I love your mom.”
At that, you looked up at your dad. “You still love her? After what she did to you?”
He shrugged, a sincere smile appearing on his lips, eyes sparkling. “It’s hard to let go of someone you’ve loved for a very long time.”
You nodded, a sudden memory of Jake running through your mind. “I spoke to him on Christmas, he told me he saw you…did you guys talk?”
He chuckled and nodded.
“Don’t you worry, child.” You rolled your eyes, making him smile. “I had to make him open his eyes, just gave him a small piece of advice.”
“And you’re not going to tell me what it is, huh?”
“That’s a conversation you should be having with him.”
After hours of being outside, you and your dad finally arrived at his house. The last time you were here, he passed out and you had to go to the hospital. This time, you were hoping nothing like that would happen again.
“Ah, I like this weather.” He said, taking off his coat and putting it on the armrest of the couch.
You smiled at him and nodded, taking off your shoes then made your way inside. Your eyes immediately flew to the table, where a small bouquet of flowers– very familiar ones – stared right at you. “Who got you these flowers?” You asked, letting your fingers leave a delicate touch to them.
Your dad glanced at you, still untying the laces to his shoes. “Uh, Jakey came by a few days ago.” He casually said. “Can you water them? I keep forgetting to do so.” He asked.
You nodded even though he couldn't see and let your hand fall from the flowers. You shook your head and moved to the kitchen, grabbed a small cup of water and made your way back to the table where the flowers sat. You watered the plants slowly, too focused as if they were your own. Jake had visited your dad. Why?
“We had a good chat. Told me he’s seeing a therapist.” Your dad snapped you out of your thoughts as you nodded, turning to him. “He came by to wish me an early birthday.” He explained.
“Did he?”
He nodded.
You nodded back.
Something that you always adored about Jake was how good he got along with you dad. You didn’t think that after all this time, he still made time and the effort to see him. It only reminded you of how nervous he was to meet him for the first time even though they had already met, and how your dad was playfully planning to tease him just to see how he would react. It was bittersweet.
“They’re pretty.” You complimented the flowers before walking into the bedroom your dad had built for you. The same room where he kept the remaining withered flowers of the first bouquet Jake had given your dad when they officially met after he asked you out.
“You’re being so dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic. Your dad’s scary.”
Jake whispered as you let him inside the house. With a small laugh, you said, “you play basketball every Sunday with him.”
“He’s a very scary man, Y/n. What if he kills me?”
“I doubt he will.” You whispered back, entering the kitchen where the rest of your family were.
“Hi.” Jake awkwardly waved the flowers in his hands, a few petals falling to the floor.
“Oh God.” You snorted, making Jake quickly pick up the petals and hand the flowers to your mom and dad.
“Flowers for me?” Your dad took his hand to his chest, “I’ve never received flowers.” He turned to your mom and frowned. “I can’t fake it anymore.”
He turned to Jake, whose eyes widened when he approached him and gave him a tight hug. “You and I will have a conversation, young boy. But other than that, welcome to the family!” He exclaimed.
Jake laughed nervously, hugging him back as he gave you a side eye, screaming for help. You giggled, walking over to your mom. “Please help him.” You muttered.
“Honey, leave him alone!”
Your dad quickly pulled away from the young boy. Jake’s ears warmed up, making him shyly smile as he walked to your side, “I just thought it’d be a nice gesture. I hope it wasn’t too much, sir.” He bowed.
“It’s perfect, future son-in-law.”
You covered your face in embarrassment, making the others laugh.
You fell back on the bed, looking at the white ceiling in thought. You couldn’t help but to wonder; what if your mother never cheated on your dad? What if what happened with Jake never did? Would you still be a happy family today? Have dinners like the ones you used to have? The thoughts ran through your mind so much, you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep. You didn’t even realize when your dad came into your room to wish a good night and kiss your temple like he always did, pulling the blanket on you so you would be cold.
mars yap the way I disappeared on y'all hehe sorry my only classes are harder than I expected RAH....okay next chapter...okay yeah bye...it's in Jake's pov....
btw the concert was so good until a guard escorted me out bc I had a camera that wasn't allowed BUT THE LITERALLY CHECKED ME SO IT'S THEIR FAULT HOW DARE THEY??? and just when that happened, enha started singing BGDC and NO DOUBT BRUV LET ME KMS ok bye love u
warnings: mdni! sexual content, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, obsessive love, gentle sex to rough sex, a lot of crying, condescending praise, slight degradation, passionate sex, p in v, unprotected sex (you already know), overstimulation, dom!heeseung.
note: this is a request ! i don’t know why i decided to do this one before all the other ones. i guess i just wanted to write for heeseung and that’s it 🙂↕️🙂↕️ enjoy !!
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
it starts long before he ever lays a hand on you. it starts in the quiet moments where you are just watching him, feeling this terrifying ache in your chest because you realize you would let him completely ruin your life if he asked.
loving heeseung isn’t exactly gentle. it is a sickness, a suffocating obsession that swallowed you whole months ago until there was nothing left of you that didn't belong to him. you track the line of his jaw, the slow rise and fall of his chest when he sleeps, the exact tone of his voice when he calls you baby. every single detail feels like a weight pressing down on your lungs.
you don't just love him. you crave him with a desperation that makes you sick to your stomach. you want to pull him under your skin, to fuse your bones with his so there is no physical space left between you. it is terrifying how much power he has over you without even trying.
and heeseung knows it.
he sees the way your eyes track his every move, the way your breath hitches when he steps into your personal space, the way you practically vibrate with the need to be touched by him. he doesn't pull away from it — he feeds on it. he loves how utterly undone you are for him, how easily he can bring you to the edge with just a heavy glance or a lingering touch. he holds your entire world in his hands and squeezes just tight enough to make you ache, knowing you will only cling to him harder for it.
it is toxic in the sweetest, most inescapable way possible. you are so consumed by the sheer magnitude of what you feel that even when things are peaceful — when his arms are wrapped around your waist and his face is buried in your neck — you are on the verge of breaking. the love is simply too big, too heavy for your body to hold.
and that emotional weight — that sickening devotion — is exactly what bleeds into the way he takes you.
sex between you two was never just physical. it is always a total undoing. a desperate collision where neither of you can ever get deep enough, close enough, or fast enough to satisfy the hunger.
heeseung has learned every single trigger in your body, but more than that, he knows your mind. he knows that the second his hands press into your waist and his weight settles over you, the dam breaks. you cry almost every single time — not from sadness or pain, but because your body literally cannot contain the sheer volume of what you feel when he is touching you. the moment he looks into your eyes, dark and entirely focused on you, the first tear always spills over.
and heeseung is completely addicted to it.
he doesn't pull back when you cry, he thrives on it. the sight of your face flushed, wet with tears, whimpering just because he is loving you, turns him into something ravenous. he treats your tears like proof of your complete surrender. he will pause mid-thrust just to catch a wet trail down your cheek with his tongue, tasting the salt on your skin, whispering sweet, possessive things against your lips.
"look at what i do to you." he would murmur, his voice low and dark, drinking in the sound of your hitched breaths. "you’re so beautiful when you weep for me, y/n."
it is passionate to the point of being suffocating. every kiss feels like he is trying to steal the air straight out of your lungs, every roll of his hips a quiet demand for you to sink deeper into him. he takes his time pulling the tears out of you, worshipping the mess you become until you are sobbing his name into his neck, completely unravelled by his touch.
and tonight is no different.
the air in the bedroom feels thick, almost oppressive, heavy with the unsaid weight of everything you are keeping inside. the only light comes from the faint orange glow filtering through the blinds, casting dark shadows across the mattress where heeseung sits.
he is leaning back against the headboard, just looking at you. he hasn't even touched you yet, but his dark gaze is anchored to your face, tracking the slight tremble in your hands as you sit across from him on the bed.
you feel that familiar tug in your chest — the sickeningly sweet urge to crawl over and beg for his hands on you. your throat feels tight, eyes already burning with unshed tears just from the sheer force of him looking at you like you are the only thing that exists in his world.
he tilts his head, a knowing smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he notices the faint sheen of wetness in your eyes before a single touch has even been exchanged.
"come here, y/n." he whispers, his voice low and raspy in the quiet room, extending a long-fingered hand toward you. "aw baby… are you already crying for me?"
you don't even hesitate. you crawl across the mattress on your hands and knees, your legs trembling so badly you almost lose your balance. the moment you reach him, heeseung’s long fingers wind around your wrist, tugging you gently up into his lap. you sink into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, a quiet sob hitching in your throat before he has even slid a hand under your shirt.
"shhh, look at me." he murmurs, his hands warm against your waist as he tilts your chin up. his thumb strokes across your cheek, smearing the fresh tear line. "look at my girl. why are you crying, hmm? i haven't even touched you yet."
"heeseung..." you whimper, your brain completely misfiring. the way he looks at you — so heavy, so focused — makes every coherent thought melt right out of your head. you can't even remember what you wanted to say. all you know is his hands, his scent, his eyes.
"use your words, baby." he coaxes softly, his voice dripping with affection. he presses a melting kiss to the corner of your eye, tasting the salt on your lashes. "tell me what you want."
"i- i don't... i just need you." you stammer out, your voice small and ruined. your hands clutch uselessly at his shoulders, fingers knotting into the fabric of his shirt. "heeseung, please..."
he chuckles, a low rumble against your chest that makes you shiver. "you don't even know what you want? your brain is already turning to mush just looking at me, mmh?"
you nod frantically, resting your forehead against his jaw. "yes... yes, please, heeseung..."
"such a helpless mess for me." he whispers, kissing your cheek, your nose, the corner of your mouth. "i love when you get like this. so soft. so completely out of it."
he moves slowly, excruciatingly so. his hands trace the curve of your sides, pulling you closer until there isn't a single millimeter of air between your bodies. he captures your lips in a kiss that feels too deep — slow and lazy, stealing what little breath you have left.
every stroke of his tongue against yours makes your mind blur even further. you are practically melting in his lap, reduced to nothing but whines and pathetic little noises.
"heeseung, i love you... i love you so much." you sob against his lips, another wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.
"i know, baby." he mutters, pulling back just enough to look at your wrecked face. his eyes burn with a satisfied light as he traces your trembling lower lip with his thumb. "i know you do. you're so full of it, it's making you stupid, isn't it? you can't even think about anything else."
"no..." you whimper, shaking your head, your hands weakly squeezing his arms. "can't think..."
"good." he hums, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your face. "don't think. just feel me, y/n. just let me fill up your head until there's nothing else left."
he gently shifts you, guiding you back onto the mattress. he settles his weight over you, slow and deliberate, resting his body against yours with a grounding pressure. his hands bracket your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he gazes down at you with that suffocating intensity.
"look at me." he commands softly. you force your tear-blurred eyes open to meet his. "you're mine, right?" he asks, his thumb softly tracing your jawline down to your throat. "tell me who you belong to."
"you." you gasp out, a fresh sob bubbling up from your chest because of how much it hurts to love him this much. "you, heeseung... only you..."
"that's it." he whispers, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your trembling lips. "that's my sweet girl. so empty, so pretty crying for me..."
he doesn't hurry to take off his clothes. instead, his long fingers slip under the hem of your shorts, sliding slowly up your inner thigh. the touch makes you shudder so hard your hips lift off the bed automatically, a soft gasp hitching in your throat.
"shhh, stay still for me." he murmurs, his thumb catching a slow tear that spills over your lash line. he brings his thumb to his lips, licking the wet salt off his skin right in front of you.
"heeseung..." you whimper, shaking your head against the pillow. your brain feels like thick syrup, completely bogged down by the heat in his eyes.
"tell me what's happening in that pretty little head." he coaxes, his hand finally reaching the soaked cotton of your underwear. he doesn't pull them down yet, he just presses his palm flat against your core, rubbing in slow circles over your wet fabric. "can you even hold a thought right now, baby?"
"no..." you sob, a high noise escaping your lips as the pressure makes your thighs twitch. "can't..."
"such a stupid girl for me." he praises condescendingly, a fond smirk pulling at his lips. "you get so dumb the second i touch you."
he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down your legs along with your underwear, leaving you completely exposed under his hungry gaze. you try to bring your knees together out of reflex, but his broad hand immediately catches the inside of your thigh, pressing it firmly back down against the mattress.
"don't hide from me." he instructs softly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "i want to see how wet you get just crying for me."
his fingers slide down into your warmth, slicking two fingers in your wetness before sliding them agonizingly slow inside you. you arch off the bed instantly, a loud sob tearing from your throat as your hands frantically claw at his arms.
"oh, wow..." he hums, watching your face twist in overwhelmed pleasure. he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that sensitive spot until your vision goes completely blurry with tears. "you’re soaking wet just from loving me so much."
he leans down, taking his time to tongue away the heavy tears running down your jawline and neck while his hand keeps a relentless rhythm inside you. every curl of his fingers pulls another pathetic whine out of you, your body trembling so hard your muscles feel like liquid.
"heeseung- please, it's too much-" you cry out, hands weakly pulling at his shoulders.
"too much?" he hums against your wet cheek, sounding thoroughly amused. "we haven't even started, baby. you can't handle anything, can you?"
he slides his fingers out, leaving you cold and aching for a split second, before he shifts down between your thighs. you gasp, trying to lift your head, but he places a broad hand on your stomach, holding you firmly in place as he leans down and buries his face between your legs.
the first sweep of his warm tongue against your clit makes you scream softly, your legs locking up as shockwaves rush straight up your spine. he licks you slowly, lapping up your slick like you are something sweet he has been dying to taste all day.
"heeseung! no, heeseung- oh god-" you sob, thrashing weakly under his weight, but his hand on your stomach keeps you completely pinned.
he pulls back just for a second, his mouth slick and shining in the dim light. "shhh... quiet down, baby. let me taste how much you love me. open up for me."
he goes back in, his tongue working over your clit in long strokes while he slides two fingers back inside you, pumping them in a rhythm that drives you straight off the deep end. it is too much sensation — the heat of his mouth, the stretch of his fingers, the overwhelming weight of loving him so fiercely that it feels like your heart is bursting. tears pour endlessly down your face, soaking into the pillow under your head.
your brain completely shuts down. there are no words left, no thoughts, just the blinding white heat of overstimulation threatening to snap your nervous system in half. every stroke of his tongue pulls another sob, another desperate plea from your lips that you don't even realize you are making.
"that's it." he mumbles against your folds, his voice muffled and deep. "get all ruined for me."
he works you until you are whimpering softly, your hips helplessly bucking against his mouth, entirely overwhelmed and clinging to the edge of an unbearable peak. just as your body starts to coil tight enough to break, he slowly pulls his fingers out and drags his tongue up your center one last time before sliding back up your body.
he hovers over you, his mouth glistening, his eyes dark and entirely satisfied as he looks down at your wrecked face. you are practically hyperventilating, your chest heaving, tears streaming down into your ears.
"look at my pretty girl." he whispers, petting your damp hair back from your forehead. "fuck baby… i’m getting so hard from watching you cry."
"heeseung..." you sob weakly, reaching up with trembling hands to touch his face, your mind completely turned to mush. "please... please fill me up... i need you..."
"i know you do." he hums, kissing your crying lips, letting you taste yourself on his mouth. "i'm going to take such good care of my sweet girl."
he shifts between your knees, and for all his mocking composure earlier, his hands are shaking against your thighs. he is just as ruined by this as you are — completely undone by the sight of your wrecked face, the wet sheen on your skin, and the bottomless depth of how much you worship him. his chest heaves against yours, his dark eyes wide and unhinged, burning with a desperation that matches the fever in your own blood.
"y/n..." he breathes out, a desperate rasp that vibrates straight into your chest. "look at what you’re doing to me."
he lines his tip up against your swollen entrance. he doesn't just push in, he sinks into you with excruciating slowness, his throat catching on a ragged groan as your body stretches around him. you arch your back, a strangled sob tearing through your lips because your nervous system is already so completely fried, so overstimulated from his tongue and fingers, that the sudden fullness of him feels almost unbearable.
"heeseung-" you choke out, fresh tears spilling out in hot streams. "heeseung, please, it hurts- i love you so much-"
"i love you too, baby." he stammers against your lips, kissing you with a frantic sweet intensity, drinking down your sobs like a dying man. his long fingers tangle into your hair, holding your head still as he slow rolls his hips, pushing all the way inside until there isn't a single breath of space left between you. "it hurts me too. it fucking kills me how much i love you."
he pauses deep inside you, buried to the hilt, just trembling against your body. his face drops into the crook of your neck, his mouth hot and wet against your skin as he keeps licking up every stray tear that trickles down your jawline. he is addicted to the salt, addicted to the sound of your whimpers, completely intoxicated by how easily he can turn your brain into complete white noise.
"you're so soft." he murmurs, his tone shifting into that condescending purr even while his own voice shakes with need. "such a stupid girl for me... look at how your mind just completely shuts off the second i put myself inside you. can you give me one single thought?"
"no... can't..." you whimper, clutching at the broad line of his back, your fingers digging into his warm skin like you are trying to anchor yourself in a storm. "just... just you..."
"mmh." he whispers, a dark smile pressing against your skin as he begins a slow, deep rhythm. every push is languid, thick, and heavy, making your hips twitch helplessly beneath him. "nothing in that pretty little head except me."
he pulls almost all the way out, letting you feel the cold void of his absence for a fleeting second, before sinking back in.
"heeseung, please- i'm dying, please-"
"you're not dying, sweet girl." he hums, his tone dripping with patronizing affection as his thumb reaches up to gently trace your wet lower lip. "you're just drowning in how much you love me."
he leans up, pinning your wrists to the mattress beside your head, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. his face is flushed, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a terrifyingly sharp devotion. he is breathing so heavily his chest slams against yours with every thrust, matching your frantic heartbeat.
"i need you to look at me while you cry." he commands, his voice dropping an octave, raspy and dark. "let me watch you fall apart. let me see how stupid i make you."
you force your tear-stained eyes open, your vision blurred and swimming with salt, but all you can see is him. heeseung. the center of your universe, the sickness swallowing you whole. a fresh sob bubbles up, racking your whole frame as he rolls his hips deep into that sensitive spot inside you.
"that's my girl." he groans, his own composure snapping just a little more as he sees the raw devotion in your eyes. "cry harder for me, y/n. show me how completely i've ruined you."
but even through the hazy fog of your overstimulated brain, you can feel the rigid tension vibrating through his entire frame. you can feel the way his thighs are locked, the way the muscles in his arms are straining against the mattress to keep from crushing you. he is holding back. even with his eyes looking so unhinged, so violently consumed by you, he is gripping your wrists to anchor himself, forcing his hips to maintain that torturously measured rhythm because he thinks you will break.
you look up at him through the heavy blur of tears, your chest heaving so violently it hurts. you don't want his restraint. you don't want him to be careful with you when your whole soul is screaming to be completely consumed by him.
"heeseung..." you choke out, your voice cracking on a pathetic sob. you twist your wrists in his grip, wanting him to feel how desperately you are chasing his touch. "don't... don't hold back. please. you can be rough... ruin me, heeseung. please."
he freezes for a fraction of a second, his breath hitching so sharply it sounds like a gasp. his dark eyes lock onto yours, wide and completely feral, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle feathers under his skin.
"rough?" he rasps out, his voice dropping into something terrifyingly dark, completely stripped of that gentle warmth. "baby, you're already crying like a fucking baby just from me moving slow."
"i don't care." you sob, your hips lifting off the bed in an uncoordinated tilt, begging for the fullness of him. "please... go harder... i want it. love me harder."
that is the final thread of his control snapping.
heeseung lets go of your wrists, his broad hands immediately flying down to your waist, his fingers digging so deep into your skin that it hurts. he drags his hips all the way back, pulling nearly completely out of your soaking warmth, before slamming back into you with punishing force.
a loud scream tears from your throat, completely muffled as heeseung drops his mouth onto yours, devouring the sound in a messy kiss. the pace snaps instantly. the agonizingly slow rolls are gone, replaced by a frantic rhythm that rattles right through your bones.
he drives into you hard and fast, his chest slamming against yours with a bruising weight. every single thrust forces a breathless sob from your chest, tears flooding out of your eyes so quickly they soak your entire face.
"fuck, y/n... look at you." he growls against your skin, his voice rough and breathless as he pulls back. his hair is completely messy, falling into his eyes, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your flushed chest. his composure is totally gone, replaced by a feral desperation. "you wanted this? you wanted me to fucking ruin you? look at how you're choking on it."
he hits you deep, hitting that breathless spot again and again until you are hyperventilating beneath him. his words get meaner, rougher, but the sheer passion in his voice is suffocating.
"you're so fucking tight. it’s ridiculous how good you feel." he pants, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, pinning them wide against his hips as he rams into you without an ounce of mercy. "stretching you out so fucking deep... i'm going to make you lose your mind, y/n. you're mine. you don't belong to anyone else."
"heeseung- ah! heeseung, please-" you wail, your head shaking frantically against the pillow, your vision completely drowning in salt.
"i fucking love you." he snaps out, the words torn straight from his chest as he buries himself into you, making your whole body shudder. "i love you so much it makes me crazy, y/n. it fucking ruins me. tell me you love me too. sob it out for me, baby. let me hear how much you need me."
"i love you- i love you so much, heeseung, oh my god-" you scream out, your hands clawing blindly at his wet shoulders, completely overstimulated. the friction is blinding, your nervous system completely shorting out under the sheer speed and force of him. you can't think, you can't breathe, you are nothing but a shaking extension of his brutal rhythm.
"such a good little mess for me." he groans, a dark praise slipping from his lips as his rhythm gets even faster, meaner, pushing you straight over the edge. "cry harder for me, y/n. let me fuck you until you can't even remember your own name."
the words are barely out of his mouth before the final shift happens.
heeseung hitches your legs up high, pinning your knees almost to your chest to expose you completely, destroying any remaining distance between your bodies. the angle lets him drive in even deeper, bottoming out against you with an unrelenting speed that makes the bed creak violently against the wall. you are completely helpless under him, your hips forced to take every single bruising thrust.
"heeseung- i'm- i'm going to-" you scream out, your voice completely shattered, your fingers clawing weakly at the damp bedsheets as the white-hot tension inside you coils tight enough to snap.
"come for me, baby." he growls, his voice an unhinged command right against your ear. his breath is scorching hot, his chest soaking wet with sweat as it slams relentlessly into yours. "break for me. let me feel how much you fucking love me."
with one more brutal strike, your body completely gives out. the orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, violent and blinding. your internal muscles clamp down around his cock in tight waves, and a high-pitched sob tears from your throat. you weep hysterically, the sheer physical and emotional overload fracturing what little sanity you had left. your vision goes totally black, tears pouring down your temples and soaking into the mattress as you shake uncontrollably.
but heeseung doesn't stop.
he groans out loud, his eyes widening in feral pleasure as your body squeezes him. instead of slowing down to let you breathe, he locks his jaw and drives right through your climax, his rhythm getting even meaner.
"heeseung, please! stop- i came! it's too much-" you wail, thrashing your head from side to side, your voice entirely ruined. your nerve endings are raw, and every single hard thrust against your hyper-sensitive core feels like an electric shock straight to your brain. it's pure overstimulation, a sensation so intense it makes your stomach flip.
"i can't, y/n, fuck... i can't stop." he pants, his voice desperate, entirely swallowed by his own unhinged obsession. he grips your waist so tight his knuckles turn white, forcing himself deep inside your spasming warmth over and over again. "you feel too fucking good. i know you can give me one more, baby."
he leans down, pressing his face into the wet mess of your neck, his mouth open as he devours your frantic sobs. heeseung is completely unraveled, his own release chasing him down, driven insane by the way you are weeping beneath him.
"i love you." he chokes out, the words sounding almost like a confession of pain, raw with a devotion that borders on terrifying. "i love you so much, y/n. look at what you do to me. i'm going to fill you up so deep you'll never forget how much you belong to me."
"please- heeseung-" you whimper, completely dumbfounded by the pleasure, your brain turned useless as he continues to wreck your overstimulated body. you can't form a thought, you can't even process the physical sensation anymore — all you know is the suffocating weight of his body, the brutal rhythm of his hips, and the absolute certainty that you would let him ruin you like this forever.
every trace of his usual control is officially gone, melted away by the sound of your hysterical sobbing and the tight pulsing of your walls around him. he lets out a loud moan against your neck, a sound so raw and uninhibited it makes your stomach drop. he is not just taking you anymore, he is drowning in you, driving himself into your sensitive core with a blind desperation. he hitches your thighs up high, draping your trembling legs over his broad shoulders so your hips are tilted back at an agonizing angle, exposing the slick heat of your core completely to his dark gaze.
he plunges back in, a devastating stroke that bottoms out so deep you can feel the blunt stretch of him in your gut. the sound of wet skin clapping against skin is loud and frantic, keeping perfect time with the violent rattle of the headboard against the wall.
"fuck... ah, y/n..." he moans out, the sound deep and completely uninhibited, escaping his throat in rough gasps as he drives into you again. his thighs are shuddering against yours, his entire body throwing its weight into a punishing pace. "you're so fucking tight... god, it's so hot inside you."
"heeseung- ah! heeseung, please!" you scream out, your voice completely shattered, your fingers clawing weakly at the damp bedsheets. the relentless friction of his pelvis grinding hard against your swollen clit with every deep plunge sends blinding white sparks behind your eyelids. you try to arch away, just to catch your breath, but heeseung’s broad hands clamp down onto your waist like iron vices, pinning you to the mattress.
"don't move away from me." he growls, his voice a raw command right against your ear. "take all of it. you asked for this, didn't you? tell me you wanted me to fuck you this hard."
"yes- yes, please, heeseung, i love you- oh god, i love you so much." you sob hysterically. the sheer physical and emotional overload is too much, your tears completely soaking your face, tracking down your neck and pooling onto the sheets.
"i fucking know, baby." he stammers against your skin, his voice cracking with a terrifyingly deep passion. he leans up, his face flushed a deep crimson, his eyes totally blown out with lust as he looks down at your wrecked face. "it drives me crazy how much you love me. it makes me want to completely tear you apart."
he drives inside you even faster, hitting that breathless spot until your internal walls clamp down around him, forcing a second orgasm to rip through your core. a broken wail tears from your throat, your whole body shaking uncontrollably.
but heeseung just lets out a loud groan, his jaw clenching so hard the veins in his neck bulge. your climax only makes him wilder once more, he refuses to slow down, driving right through your release with short thrusts that completely short-circuit your brain.
"heeseung, stop- i'm coming again! it's too much-" you whimper, completely dumbfounded by the sheer overstimulation.
"but you feel too fucking good." he groans out loudly, a dark chuckle hitching in his chest despite how completely unraveled he is. he grinds his pelvis hard against yours, rubbing relentlessly against every raw nerve until you are wailing. "squeeze me, baby. keep squeezing me just like that while you cry for me."
he leans down again, his mouth open as he devours your frantic sobs, tasting your salt and sweat.
"so helpless... crying so hard because you can't handle how much i love you. tell me who you belong to, y/n. tell me whose name is stuck in your head."
"god, yes... ah... god, y/n... yes..." he roars out loudly, his voice completely breaking as his entire body goes rigid.
he cocks his hips forward one last time, burying his length to the absolute hilt with a bruising force that leaves you entirely breathless. a long groan escapes his lips as he releases inside you, his thighs twitching violently as he spills his hot cum deep into your pulsing core, holding you pinned beneath him until you are both nothing but a tangled mess.
he stays collapsed on top of you for a long time, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps against yours. the room is entirely silent except for the sound of your quiet whimpers and the wet friction of his skin against yours as he slowly slips out, leaving you instantly cold and completely empty.
your body is still twitching from the aftershocks, your nerve endings so fried that even the cool air of the bedroom feels like too much on your highly sensitized skin. tears are still leaking steadily from your swollen eyes, catching in the messy strands of hair stuck to your flushed cheeks.
heeseung shifts, rolling onto his side and pulling your trembling body right against his chest. his long fingers are surprisingly gentle now as they sweep the damp hair away from your forehead. he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him with your blurred vision.
"look at my baby." he whispers, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he uses his thumb to smear a fresh tear across your cheek. his voice has returned to that low purr, full of absolute satisfaction. "still weeping for me. you can't even move."
you just nod weakly against his chest, clutching at his shoulder with fingers that have no strength left. you are completely exhausted, hollowed out by the sheer magnitude of how much you worship him.
"my messy girl." he murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your wet eyelid, tasting the last of your salt. he wraps his arms around you even tighter, burying his face in your hair and anchoring you to him so completely that you can barely breathe. "sleep now, y/n. i’ve got you. you don't need to think about anything else ever again."
contents… 📂 ׄ 𓂂 drabble, perverted and shameless heejake, reader is a little dumb and clueless but eventually figures them out :3 super suggestive, making out and getting handsy in a dressing room (｡>﹏<)
— 𝓝ia 🗯️ ; wow my dream date… cute. (¬_¬") this was supposed to be an smau but writing it felt more right whoops i’m nervous
thinking about bimbo!reader who’s got her two bestfriends heeseung and jake on a tight leash, completely oblivious to the fact that they’re both desperately in love with her and are very willing to share her between themselves with no issue.
following her around the mall like two lost pups, both hands occupied by endless shopping bags as she bounces from one store to another, the sound of her newly bought kitten heels echoing through heeseung and jake’s ears whilst their eyes are glued to the back of her pink little miniskirt swishing around, barely covering a thing. geez, such perverts! (˶˃𐃷˂˶)
and then comes their favorite part of the day. their hearts practically leap out of their chests when your eyes catch a glimpse of their your favorite lingerie store, dragging them inside cluelessly to ask for their opinions as you naturally did with all the other stores, questioning them on which color looks good on you the best. their hungry gaze trailing your every move almost going unnoticed by you.
and who are they to say no when you ask them to join you in the dressing room to help? you might be an airhead, but you’re not that stupid to not notice them ogling you the entire day. plus, you think they deserve a little treat for putting up with you and your shopping addiction. so when they tower over you from the front and the back, trapping you between themselves, all you can do is let out a pleased hum as jake kisses you rough on the lips, not wasting a second while his slender fingers play with your hardened nipples through the lace bra he had picked out minutes before.
“look at her jake, such a pretty mess for us already..” heeseung mumbles before pressing a soft kiss against your neck. his hands slid down your bare waist, knee in between your thighs and pressing against your soaked core, making you mewl against jake’s lips.
you then decide that shopping with these two will be your favorite part of the week from now on.
to the girl who is always the lesson but never the one
pairing: non-idol!jungwon x fem!reader
warnings: angst with happy ending, fluff, y/n is an overthinker and has lots of insecurities, heartbreak, jungwon somehow giving mixed signals, slow burn, did i miss anything?? hopefully not.
premise: y/n has always been the lesson, never the one. so when jungwon, the boy who is kind to everyone, begins caring for her in ways that feel a little too intentional to ignore, she convinces herself it’s just his nature. but as her feelings grow, she reminds herself how relationships always end. now, she must decide whether believing in him is worth the risk of being temporary again.
word count: 21,660
***
dear, y/n,
in this world, there are two types of people: the one and the lesson. sad to say, you're the latter.
there is a specific kind of exhaustion that comes with being someone’s stepping stone.
you spend months, sometimes years smoothing out their rough edges, teaching them how to love properly, how to listen, and how to stay. and then, once they’ve finally learned the lesson, they leave to go be with someone else.
at this point, you've become an expert at the curriculum. but you were never the one who got to keep the degree.
the cafe was loud, a chaotic symphony of clinking ceramic cups and the low hum of afternoon chatter, but it all faded into white noise the moment the image loaded on your feed.
it was a simple photo. a sunlit afternoon, two matching gold rings, and a caption that felt like a quiet slap to my face: soobin, your ex, his hands on another girl’s waist while he kisses her cheek.
thank you for teaching me how to love properly, the caption said.
two years.
you stared at the photo, my thumb hovering over the screen. he was with you for two years and he couldn’t say those words to you, even in your anniversary. the whole time in your relationship, he was reckless, emotionally distant, and entirely unpolished. you spent a year settling for what you had because you thought it was love.
but the day he sent you a text saying it was over, he told you he just wasn't ready for commitment. now you realize he was ready, he just needed two years of your patience to learn how to be the man a girl deserved.
then there was jaemin, a senior from high school, your first…you wouldn’t say boyfriend but a fling. it was simple, you liked him and he liked you back. but only because you liked him that he liked you back.
then when he met a girl from his club where he really, really liked, your fling was over.
and even before all of them, there was the ultimate what if: park jongseong.
he was your childhood friend, the boy who lived just doors down, whose laughter was the soundtrack to your earliest memories. you had loved him since you were six years old, a silly, innocent crush that somehow managed to grow up right alongside you. as the years bled into high school, that fondness turned into something heavy and terrifying. you spent months practicing confessions in front of your bedroom mirror, your heart hammering against your ribs, only to swallow the words every time you saw him smile at you. he was your safe haven. the risk of speaking up and ruining the one steady friendship you had was a price you couldn't bear to pay.
until, he took an interest in your cousin, karina. you watched frozen as he confessed to her in the school field during lunch. he told you that day that he would confess, breaking your illusion of anything happening between the both of you. what you didn’t expect was he fell for someone you also knew for years, let alone a family member.
then months later, he admitted that he liked you back. but you were still just children then. his definition of love was too small, too cautious to risk breaking the fragile, beautiful friendship you had built. he didn’t know how to hold a girl’s hand while holding her history at the same time. but thanks to you, he knew what real love was. you gave him a lesson he’d forever treasure.
just not with you.
the worst part, you never got to tell him how you felt. you just quietly stepped aside, becoming the supportive best friend who helped him figure out what to say to her.
"y/n? hey, are you even listening to me?"
wonhee, your roommate snapped the thread of my thoughts. she was sitting across you, a half-eaten plate of pasta between us, looking at me with a mixture of concern and mild annoyance.
you locked my phone, the screen going mercifully black, and forced a practiced smile onto my face. "yeah. sorry. just... an internship notification. what were you saying?”
"i was saying about the drama I just overheard by the counter while getting our drinks."
she leaned in closer across the small table, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "you know jisu from the department next to ours? apparently, she and sunghoon just made it official on their feeds. like, matching profile pictures, public couple status, the whole nine yards."
wonhee shook her head, taking a slow sip of her drink. "everyone is losing their minds because sunghoon used to be notorious for being completely uncatchable. he’d date a girl for a month, get bored, and leave them with enough character development to write a novel. but look at him now—completely whipped. i guess some girls are just born to be the final destination, while the rest of us are just the rest stops along the highway."
you gave wonhee a weak smile, “tell me about it.”
just when you were about to mope on your feelings, your boss from your internship messaged that you interns are needed tomorrow for an urgent shoot. luckily, you had no classes tomorrow so you have time while still catching up with some tasks for school.
tomorrow has finally arrived and you came to the building of the prestige building of véra, a magazine known for its sleek minimalism and its legendary ability to turn underground creators into overnight icons. it was a place where trends didn't just get covered—they were born.
"no, absolutely not. the lighting is completely flat, and the silk looks like cardboard under these gels. look at the monitor!"
"i’m tracking the ambient light, okay? but if you want that raw, overcast mood you specifically asked for in the mood board, we need to shift the reflectors. now."
the sharp, overlapping voices echoed across the massive concrete studio space the moment you pushed past the heavy double doors. the atmosphere inside was thick with tension, a frantic ballet of production assistants rushing past with garment bags, makeup artists adjusting their kits under blinding vanity lights, and the distant, rhythmic clack-clack-clack of a high-end camera shutter.
in the center of the chaos stood the creative director, kang jiah, pinching the bridge of her nose in sheer frustration, while the lead photographer, oh minseok adjusted a massive lens on his tripod.
as a makeup artist student, your brain automatically began calculating the fix before anyone even asked you to. you could see the problem from ten feet away: the model had a gorgeous, warm skin tone, but the current lighting was clashing with the undertone of her foundation, making the high-shine finish look chaotic instead of seamless.
you gripped the handles of your professional makeup train case a little tighter, swallowing down your nervousness. you were just a standby intern here to clean brushes, prep skin, or rush to the makeup artist’s bag for products they need, but the thick tension in the room made your heart hammer against your ribs.
“excuse me,” a calm, clear voice suddenly broke the thick tension in the room. "if i may offer a small suggestion? what if we change the polarization instead?"
from the shadows behind the main monitor setup, a boy who seemed to be around your age stepped forward. he was dressed simply in a loose black sweater and clean trousers, a professional light meter slung casually around his neck.
"if we drop a linear polarizer onto the lens and tilt the key light down by just five degrees, the camera should cut the greasy reflection from the strobe while keeping the model's natural skin texture completely intact. director kang gets her soft, glass-skin look on the monitor, and you won't lose your highlights, sir. It should take less than two minutes to adjust."
the studio went quiet for a beat. photographer oh peered over his shoulder, checking the math on the monitor, before a slow, appreciative nod broke across his face. he stepped up to his own rig, quickly adjusting the polarization filter to test the student's theory.
"he's right. the polarization math checks out," photographer oh announced to the room, looking thoroughly impressed. "good eye…what’s your name?”
“jungwon, sir. yang jungwon.”
“good eye, jungwon.” director kang told jungwon with her stern voice but the look of amusement on her face did not leave.
yang jungwon.
everyone at the university knew who he was. he wasn't just talented; he was the golden boy and a prodigy. he was the type of student who's friends with everyone, the student whose photography portfolios were already being archived by professors as future curriculum benchmarks.
he possessed a rare, effortless blend of sharp academic intelligence and raw artistic intuition. he was brilliant, celebrated, and completely out of reach.
a boy existing in a flawless, sunlit orbit that a guarded, cynical standby intern like you had no business crossing.
jungwon wiped a stray lock of hair from his forehead, offering a small, dimpled smile to a stressed-out production assistant who had just dropped a roll of gaffer tape near his feet. he bent down, picked it up, and handed it back to her with a gentle, "here you go. don't worry, we have plenty of time."
you swallowed hard, averting your eyes.
he was brilliant, he was elite, and he was universally kind. the ultimate hazard sign.
it would be a lie if you said you didn't find him cute the first time you saw him in the building.
"y/n, go in and touch up the nose and jawline," the head makeup artist, hyeji called out, waving a hand toward the vanity. "matte it down just a bit so the polarization works properly."
you blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, and quickly grabbed your powder puff and a translucent setting powder.
walking onto a live set always felt like stepping into a spotlight. your heart did a nervous little flutter as you approached the model, consciously keeping your eyes glued to her face and away from the monitor station where jungwon was standing.
"excuse me," you whispered politely to the model, stepping into her personal space.
you raised your hand, your fingers stabilizing against her jaw as you gently tapped the powder puff onto her skin. this was your comfort zone. the familiar scent of cosmetics and the meticulous, rhythmic tapping usually calmed your nerves.
until you felt a presence shift right behind you.
"ah, wait a second please," a quiet voice murmured.
you froze, your hand hovering inches from the model’s cheek. jungwon had stepped up right next to you, leaning in slightly to look at the model's face through the small space between you two. he was close enough that you could catch the subtle, clean scent of his fabric softener—like fresh laundry and cold winter air.
he wasn't looking at you. his sharp, focused eyes were entirely on how the studio lights hit the model's skin finish. he raised a hand, using his thumb to gently mimic the angle of the key light.
"if she tilts her chin up just a fraction when y/n finishes dusting the powder," jungwon said softly, addressing the photographer while subconsciously using your name, "the shadow under the jaw will clean up perfectly."
your breath hitched in your throat. y/n. he didn't even know you, yet hearing your name leave his lips in that calm, casual tone felt like a sudden spike of electricity.
this feeling was familiar, you said.
as soon as the thought crossed your mind, a cold wave of reality washed over you, dousing the spark before it could even catch fire. you quickly finished the last few taps of powder, stepped back, and offered a hurried, polite bow to the model and jungwon before retreating to the dark edges of the studio.
your chest felt tight. you're doing it again, you scolded yourself, your fingers gripping the plastic handle of your powder compact so hard your knuckles turned white.
you felt pathetic. you felt completely, utterly cursed.
it was always like this. one soft glance, one polite gesture, a boy simply using your name and your heart was already trying to sprint ahead. you fell fast, hopelessly fast, like a script that had already been written for you a hundred times before. you were the girl who romanticized the bare minimum, the girl who mistook a photographer's technical focus for something personal.
you closed your eyes for a brief second, forcing your breathing to steady.
if you let yourself look at yang jungwon, you knew exactly how this story would end. he would smile, he would be kind, he would inadvertently teach you how to love a little deeper—and then he would hand his heart to someone else, leaving you behind with nothing but a notebook full of character development.
you weren't going to be the rest stop on his highway. not this time.
"y/n? can you clean the brushes from the morning prep?" the senior makeup artist's voice called out from the vanity room.
"coming," you replied, your voice dropping back into its practiced, neutral tone. you pulled your shoulders back and walked away from the lit set, determined to keep yourself distracted from whatever feelings that are rising.
***
dear, y/n,
sometimes, old habits die hard. you recognized the electricity today, didn't you? it’s the exact same current that left you in the dark three times before. he is a walking hazard sign with a dimpled smile, and you are already stepping over the yellow tape. the truth is, you missed the way a single voice could make the room tilt, and for the first time in a very long time, it felt kind of beautiful to feel everything all at once again.
the train ride home was the worst part of the day. it gave you too much time to think, the rhythmic, metallic hum of the carriage matching the uneasy beat of your heart as the train rattled through the city.
sitting crushed between tired commuters, you pulled out your phone. your thumbs moved on pure instinct, opening the app and typing his name into the search bar before your logical brain could even try to stop you.
@jw_209
you swallowed hard as his profile loaded. no private account lock. no gatekeeping. just a blue checkmark, a massive follower count, and a grid that looked exactly like a highly curated digital museum.
your eyes scanned his feed, and that familiar flutter settled deep in your chest.
he liked taking photos of landscapes with ethereal vibes. misty horizons, soft pastel sunrises over quiet shorelines, and ancient trees swallowed by a dreamlike haze. he captured the world in a way that made ordinary things look completely breathtaking.
he was incredibly talented, yet his captions were entirely humble. just a single camera emoji or a word or phrases about the fleeting nature of everyday moments, or how softly a quiet afternoon can pass you by.
then, you scrolled down a bit further and hit the real hazard zone: his tagged photos.
there were countless pictures of him posted by other people. jungwon sitting at a university cafe surrounded by a huge group of friends, all of them leaning into him. jungwon smiling broadly, showing off those deep, clear dimples as he held up a peace sign next to girls from the dance club, the cheer squad, the student council. every single person in his tagged photos looked happy just to be standing near him.
he was tagged in sweet birthday posts, late-night study group sessions, and celebratory dinner collages. he wasn't just liked. he was cherished by everyone who crossed his path.
though he doesn't post photos of people in his social media. you guessed he likes to keep the people in his life private or he just likes taking photos of landscapes than people.
on the way back home, you were pulled right out of your thoughts by the familiar chimes of the convenience store down the street from your dorm.
the door swung open, and a boy stepped out into the humid night air, a small plastic bag dangling from his fingers. your footsteps completely faltered on the pavement.
it was yang jungwon.
he was dressed down even more than he had been at the studio, his hair slightly damp and a pair of simple slippers on his feet. he stopped under the warm, buzzing glow of the storefront sign, completely breaking the distant, untouchable image you had just been staring at on your phone. he was right here. in your neighborhood.
before you could even think about hiding or turning around, he raised his head. his sharp eyes blinked in surprise, and then, those deep, familiar dimples cut into his cheeks as he caught sight of you.
"oh? y/n, right?"
“j-jungwon!”
damn it, you really had to stutter and raise your voice.
“you just got home?”
"yeah, the head artist wanted the foundation brushes sanitized tonight because the morning crew needs them fresh, and then i had to sort the sponge bins and double-check the inventory list for the next shoot since we won't even be there on friday, so it just took way longer than expected."
it felt like you couldn’t breathe after that. why did you have to overexplain? he had asked a simple four-word question, and you had handed him a full logistical breakdown of your internship duties like a nervous suspect under interrogation.
jungwon blinked softly, taking in your breathless ramble. for a horrifying second, you thought he might find you completely weird—but then, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and that deep, gentle dimple appeared on his cheek.
"ah, so that's why you're so late," he murmured, his voice incredibly soft in the quiet night air. "you worked really hard today.”
“t-thank you. it was just part of the job, really. i’m still just a standby intern, so i have to do my best not to get in anyone's way."
jungwon tilted his head slightly, his gaze warm. "you didn't get in anyone's way. your skin prep made the polarization adjustment work perfectly."
the fact that he remembered that brought your heart into a sudden, breathless flutter, the erratic rhythm pounding so loud against your ribs you were terrified he could hear it in the midnight quiet. it was that exact same jolt of electricity from the studio, only this time, it felt twice as loud under the quiet streetlights. your heart was doing dangerous, hopeful flips, completely ignoring every single warning you had just given yourself.
jungwon shifted his weight, his plastic bag rustling softly against his sweatpants. he looked down at the street for a second, a small, polite smile lingering on his lips before he looked back up at you.
"well, it's getting pretty late," he said softly, gesturing slightly with his head toward the direction of the apartment blocks. "i should probably head back home before the ice cream i bought completely melts."
you blinked, forcing your brain to kick back into gear. "oh! right, yeah. of course. go ahead."
"get home safely, y/ni," he murmured, stepping past you with a gentle nod. "see you at the studio on friday."
"goodnight," you whispered to his retreating back.
you stood frozen on the pavement, watching his tall, relaxed figure disappear into the shadows of the street. the subtle scent of his fabric softener still lingered faintly in the humid night air, a cruel reminder that he had actually been standing right there.
you let out a long, shaky exhale, finally allowing your shoulders to drop. you were supposed to be building walls. you were supposed to be guarding your heart against the ultimate hazard sign.
but as you turned the key to your dorm room, your heart was still stubbornly replaying the exact way his dimples looked under the convenience store light.
the quiet hum of your desk lamp was the only sound in the room. you had been staring at your color theory assignment for the past hour, but the lines of text were starting to blur together. your brain was entirely fried.
just a five-minute break, you promised yourself.
it was a lie, and you knew it. your fingers moved on pure autopilot, unlocking your phone and opening the app before your conscience could stage an intervention. you had explicitly told yourself to stop looking. you had promised yourself on the train, and again at the door of your dorm, that you wouldn't feed the curse.
but as you clicked on his profile, a little red circle illuminated his profile picture.
new post • 2 min. ago
your breath caught. you tapped it.
it wasn't an ethereal landscape or a misty sunrise. it was a shot taken from a low angle, capturing the wet asphalt of the pavement reflecting the warm, buzzing neon glow of the convenience store sign down your street. in the distance, the blurry silhouette of the quiet neighborhood stretched into the dark, looking incredibly nostalgic and soft through his lens.
it was the exact spot where you had been standing together just an hour ago.
he had captured the ordinary street and turned it into something poetic. your heart did that dangerous, breathless stumble all over again as your eyes drifted down to the caption.
he wrote: daylight.
***
dear y/n,
how are you supposed to know which signs are real and which ones are just the universe playing a cruel joke? when you spend your whole life guarding your heart against a curse, you start to see warnings everywhere. you read caution tape in a polite smile. you read danger in a dimple. but when a boy posts a picture of a midnight street and labels it daylight, what are you supposed to believe? is it a green light, or just another beautiful hazard sign?
you and jungwon have the same elective of visual media color theory. though you never noticed him fully until yesterday’s studio shoot, you now vividly remember seeing his name printed right above yours on the attendance sheet every single week.
today, you sat right in the middle of the classroom just to get a better view, since you could barely see the slides when you were seated at the sides of the room.
what you didn't expect was looking up to see the dimpled boy sliding into the empty seat right next to you, greeting you with a soft smile.
“hey, y/n.”
“h-hi! jungwon.”
the syllable felt heavy on your tongue, entirely too loud for the quiet buzz of the classroom before the professor walked in. you quickly looked down at your desk, blindly organizing your highlighters just to keep your hands from shaking.
he set his laptop down on the wooden desk, the plastic convenience store bag from last night nowhere to be seen, replaced now by the clean, sharp scent of his usual cologne. out of the corner of your eye, you watched him lean back in his chair, his long legs stretching out comfortably under the desk.
"you usually sit by the windows, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and conversational as he adjusted his screen.
your hands froze on your pencil case. you turned your head to look at him, your chest tightening. "y-yes. how did you know?"
jungwon paused, his fingers hovering over his keyboard. he turned his head to meet your gaze, those deep dimples faintly tracing his cheeks as a soft, easy smile broke across his face. "i sit a few rows back. it's kind of hard not to notice when you're always dropping your pens under the chairs."
a mortified heat rushed straight to your face. you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. all this time, you thought you were completely invisible, a nameless face in a hundred-person lecture hall. but he hadn't just seen you yesterday—he had been watching your clumsy morning routines for weeks.
"i don't drop them that often," you muttered defensively, though your voice lacked any real bite because your heart was currently trying to escape your ribs.
"hm, if you say so," he amusedly replied, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he leaned in just a fraction closer, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. "but since you moved to the middle today, i figured i'd move too. the view is better here anyway."
the professor finally walked into the room, clapping his hands to start the lecture, but your brain had already completely short-circuited.
the view is better here anyway.
you didn't say it out loud, but you completely, wholeheartedly agreed.
the view from the middle of the room really was so much better, especially when it included the sharp line of his jawline and the soft way his hair fell over his forehead as he looked back down at his laptop screen. you couldn't help the small, satisfied smile that tugged at your lips. you had originally just wanted to see the lesson clearly, but sitting right next to yang jungwon was an undeniable upgrade.
as the professor finally walked in and the slides changed to color wheel harmonies, you leaned back in your chair, feeling a warm, victorious rush of giddiness settling deep in your chest.
throughout the whole lecture, jungwon noticed how you were having a hard time catching up with the professor’s fast pacing. without a word, he simply slid his notebook toward the center of the desk, his clean, neat handwriting perfectly capturing everything you had missed.
you blinked, giving him a questioning look that clearly said, what about you?
he just leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he murmured, “it’s okay. i have photographic memory anyway.”
a quiet laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, though you quickly clamped a hand over your mouth so the rest of the lecture hall wouldn't hear.
and when class ended, one of your elective mates came to jungwon and thanked him for lending him his notes from last week’s session.
you froze, your fingers tightening around your pen. a cold splash of reality hit you right in the face. you had almost fallen for it. you had almost convinced yourself jungwon only did that gesture for you.
but he was just like that with everyone else.
***
dear y/n,
sometimes, it would be easier to just pull back completely and build your walls so high that no dimpled smile can reach you. it is easy to tell yourself to keep your distance when you think you are just another face in his crowded room. you can convince your mind that his kindness is a warning sign, a trap designed to make you stumble.
but what are you supposed to do when the universe refuses to cooperate with your defenses? how do you run away when every detour somehow leads you straight back into his path? it feels like the world is intentionally shrinking, forcing your orbits to cross whether you are ready for it or not.
if every sudden encounter keeps pushing you closer, maybe the real danger isn't his casual charm. maybe the real hazard is how badly you want to stop running. you are standing on the edge of the hazard zone, and you are starting to realize you don't want to step back.
but the universe, it seemed, hadn't gotten the memo.
"y/n, thank goodness you're here early," the head stylist breathed, rushing past you with an armful of garment bags the moment you stepped into the studio. "the model for the second layout just called in sick, and the concept director is losing her mind. since you have the closest features to our model, could you maybe stand in for her today? don’t worry, i won’t make you add extra work. just be a model for today.”
your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around the strap of your makeup kit. "me? a model?"
"yes, please! the lighting is already set up for your skin profile anyway," she pleaded, gently nudging you toward the center of the dark studio before rushing off to coordinate with the wardrobe team.
even though you were nervous, you felt flattered by the sudden shift from being the one holding the brushes to being the one everyone was rushing to get ready.
seconds later, you were pressed into the leather chair, staring at your own reflection framed by bright, blinding vanity bulbs. as the senior makeup artist began sweeping a fluffy brush across your cheekbones, your eyes instinctively drifted to the mirror's reflection, scanning the dark background of the studio.
there he was.
jungwon was standing by the equipment table, a light meter slung around his neck as he manually adjusted a camera lens. but as you watched him through the glass, his hands suddenly slowed down. without turning his head, his gaze quietly shifted upward, his dark eyes locking onto your reflection in the mirror.
your heart did a violent, dangerous skip. for a split second, you were entirely breathless, caught in a silent, cross-room stare through a sheet of glass.
but then, jungwon blinked, casually turning away to say something to a lighting crew member as if nothing had happened.
you quickly looked down at your lap, your cheeks burning under the heavy layer of setting powder. you're tripping, you firmly told yourself, your fingers gripping the fabric of your skirt. you are completely hallucinating. he was a photographer; he was probably just looking at the vanity lights or checking the ambient glare in the room. he wasn't looking at you. he couldn't be.
"all done, sweetheart! step onto the backdrop for me," the artist said, giving your shoulder a reassuring pat.
your feet felt heavy, practically glued to the floorboards as you finally stepped onto the seamless backdrop. the harsh studio lights cut through the shadows, illuminating the space and making you feel incredibly exposed.
at the center of the set, jungwon was now waiting by the tripod. when you took your place, he slowly lowered the camera body from his face. the casual, easygoing expression he always wore vanished. he didn't smile, and he didn't drop a playful comment like he did in the classroom. he just stared, his dark eyes tracking you with that exact same quiet, unreadable intensity you thought you had imagined in the mirror.
you fixed your posture, forcing your face into a neutral, professional mask. you had to remember the lesson from yesterday. you weren't special.
“whenever you're ready, jungwon,” director kang said, her voice sharp but steady as she reviewed the digital monitor from the sidelines.
jungwon blinked, the director's voice hitting him like a sudden splash of cold water, snapping him out of his trance. his jaw tightened slightly as he quickly looked away from you, slowly raising the camera back to his eye to hide his face behind the lens.
"right," his voice came out a little rougher than usual, echoing slightly in the quiet studio. "let's... let's start with the profile shots. look slightly to the left, please."
you did as he asked, turning your chin toward the shadows and focusing your eyes on a random spot on the studio wall. at first, your limbs felt stiff, every muscle in your neck tight with the lingering anxiety of being just a temporary replacement. you were acutely aware of the lens pointed at you, and even more aware of the boy behind it.
click.
the flash illuminated the dark studio for a microsecond.
"good," jungwon’s voice drifted over from the tripod, lower now, carrying a calm, steady rhythm that instantly cut through your panic. "just like that. now drop your shoulders a bit, y/n. take a deep breath in... and let it out."
you followed his voice, exhaling slowly. as your shoulders relaxed, something shifted inside you. you looked down at the structured, high-fashion wardrobe they had styled you in, felt the perfect weight of the makeup on your skin, and realized something liberating: you weren't a mistake or a technical hitch. you were a cosmetology student who understood exactly how angles, textures, and lighting worked. you knew your face. you knew your undertones.
and suddenly, you didn't feel like a hiding substitute anymore. you felt powerful.
"perfect. keep that exact expression," jungwon murmured. click. "tilt your head up just a fraction. let the key light hit the high points of your cheekbones."
his guidance was effortless. he wasn't treating you like a standard, disposable model, nor was he acting like the casual classmate who shared notes. behind the camera, yang jungwon was a complete professional. he gave commands with a quiet, grounding confidence that made you feel completely safe to move, to experiment, to own the space under the lights.
click. click.
"bring your hands up toward your collarbone," he instructed softly, the lens tracking your movements. "soft fingers. look right into the lens this time."
you didn't hesitate. you turned your head back toward the center, lifting your chin, and looked directly down the barrel of his camera lens. you locked eyes with him through the glass, no longer trying to hide behind a neutral mask. you let your confidence show—letting him see that you were completely present, commanding the set just as much as he was.
from behind the camera, you heard the faint, sharp intake of jungwon's breath. but the camera didn't stutter.
"beautiful," he whispered, the word carrying a raw, genuine weight that sent a different kind of thrill straight down your spine. click. "stay right there. don't move."
beautiful.
he just said it so casually, so effortlessly, but the word felt entirely too heavy as it hung in the space between you. he didn't lower the lens, keeping his gaze locked onto yours through the camera glass as if he were trying to capture something far deeper than just a standard lighting test.
"and... cut!" director kang's voice suddenly cut through the air, breaking the spell. "excellent work, everyone. let's check the monitor."
the blinding studio lights dimmed slightly as the crew immediately swarmed around the main digital display. you stepped off the seamless backdrop, your knees feeling a little weak now that the adrenaline was fading. you tentatively walked over to the edge of the crowd, peeking over a stylist's shoulder to look at the screen.
a small gasp escaped your lips. the images looking back at you didn't look like a nervous, last-minute substitute at all. the lighting caught the crisp edges of your jawline, the makeup looked flawless under the exposure, and your eyes held a sharp, captivating confidence.
"wow, y/n, look at your facial symmetry," one of the senior stylists praised, clapping her hands together. "the textures are so clean. you look incredible!"
"honestly, you saved us today," director kang agreed, nodding dynamic approval as she scrolled through the burst shots. "the mood is exactly what we needed for the editorial pitch. you're a natural."
your chest swelled with a warm, triumphant rush of pride. all your hours studying skin prep and facial angles had paid off, and hearing the professional crew validate your work made you feel completely on top of the world.
"i'm completely satisfied with how these turned out," a quiet, familiar voice spoke up from behind you.
you turned around to find jungwon standing there, his camera now resting against his hip. he wasn't looking at the monitor anymore; his dark eyes were fixed directly on you, a soft, genuine smile touching his lips.
"the lighting and the textures hit perfectly," he added, his voice low and private amidst the loud chatter of the crew. "i'm really glad y/n stepped in today."
your heart gave a violent, unruly thud against your ribs.
the crew was still talking loudly around you, debating layout designs and background colors, but your selective hearing had already locked the world out. i'm really glad y/n stepped in today. his words replayed in a dizzying loop, sweet and terrifyingly sincere.
he might have sounded like a good coworker but as you looked at the faint trace of his dimples, you knew your defenses were in serious trouble.
after changing your outfit from the shoot, you stopped in your tracks when you saw jungwon clearing up the equipment by himself. the heavy studio lights were mostly shut off, leaving only the dim, warm overheads casting long shadows across the empty room. he looked completely different now. his jacket discarded, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to his elbows as he reached up to untighten a massive softbox modifier from its stand.
you hesitated for a fraction of a second before setting your tote bag down on a nearby stool. you walked over, your sneakers squeaking quietly against the concrete floor.
"need a hand?" you asked, reaching out to stabilize the heavy metal base of the C-stand before it could tilt forward.
jungwon blinked, looking down at you from his height. a look of surprise crossed his face, followed quickly by that familiar, easy smile. "oh, y/n. you're still here? it's okay, i've got it. you should head home, it's getting late."
"i want to help," you replied, your voice steady despite the quiet thumping in your chest. you didn't let go of the metal stand. "besides, you're the one who did all the heavy lifting during the shoot. consider it payback for the notes."
jungwon let out a soft, breathy chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "alright. if you insist."
for the next twenty minutes, the studio was quiet except for the rustle of velcro, the clinking of metal stands, and the low, easy hum of casual conversation. you helped him coil the heavy black extension cords while he carefully packed his camera body and lenses into his padded backpack. without the pressure of the crew or the blinding lights, the stiff walls you had painstakingly built after yesterday's lecture began to feel entirely useless.
"all set," jungwon finally said, zipping his bag closed and swinging it over one shoulder. he turned off the remaining studio switch, plunging the room into darkness except for the green exit light by the door. "let's go?"
you nodded, walking out into the cool evening air together.
the walk to the transit station was surprisingly peaceful. the streets of the city were buzzing with the usual nighttime traffic, but between the two of you, there was a comfortable, easy rhythm. you talked about the concept director’s hectic energy, your favorite color theories, and how relieving it was to finally finish a long week of classes.
when you finally reached your stop, you turned to wave goodbye, but jungwon didn't stay on the platform. instead, he quietly stepped off the train right behind you.
"wait, jungwon," you blinked, looking around the familiar street corner near your neighborhood. "your place isn't around here, is it?"
jungwon adjusted the strap of his heavy camera bag, looking down at you under the warm, amber glow of the streetlamp. his dimples showed faintly as he smiled, his hands slipping into his pockets.
"it's not," he admitted casually, his voice low and incredibly grounding in the quiet night. "but it's dark out, and you worked hard today. i wanted to make sure you got home safe."
your breath hitched, your fingers tightly gripping the straps of your tote bag.
there it was again. that dangerous, dizzying rush of kilig slammed right into your chest, loud enough to drown out the distant hum of the evening traffic. i wanted to make sure you got home safe. the words hung in the space between you, illuminated by the warm, amber glow of the streetlamp.
for a terrifying second, you wanted to believe it. you wanted to believe that this detour, this long train ride out of his way, was for you.
but then the memory of the classroom flashed behind your eyes—the classmate thanking him for the notes, the realization that yang jungwon was just effortlessly, universally good. of course he was walking you home. you had stayed late to help him lift heavy equipment; he probably just felt standard, polite responsibility as a coworker to make sure you didn't walk the dark streets alone. he would have done the exact same thing for director kang, or the senior stylist, or anyone else.
he was just being a good guy. that was all.
"you really didn't have to, jungwon," you said, forcing a small, polite smile to your face as you stepped backward toward your gate, desperately trying to keep the distance between you. "but... thank you. for the walk. and for today."
jungwon didn't move, his hands still tucked into his pockets as he watched you step away. the easy smile on his lips faded into something quiet and slightly intense, his eyes tracking your defensive posture with an unreadable look.
"anytime, y/n," he murmured softly. "get some rest."
your breath hitched, your fingers tightly gripping the straps of your tote bag.
there it was again. that dangerous, dizzying rush of warmth slammed right into your chest, a sudden flutter so loud it threatened to drown out the distant hum of the evening traffic. i wanted to make sure you got home safe. the words hung in the space between you, illuminated by the warm, amber glow of the streetlamp.
for a terrifying second, you wanted to believe it. you wanted to believe that this detour, this long train ride out of his way, was for you.
but then the memory of the classroom flashed behind your eyes. the classmate thanking him for the notes, the realization that yang jungwon was just effortlessly, universally good. of course he was walking you home. you had stayed late to help him lift heavy equipment; he probably just felt standard, polite responsibility as a coworker to make sure you didn't walk the dark streets alone. he would have done the exact same thing for director kang, or the senior stylist, or anyone else.
he was just being a good guy. that was all.
"you really didn't have to, jungwon," you said, forcing a small, polite smile to your face as you stepped backward toward your gate, desperately trying to keep the distance between you. "but... thank you. for the walk. and for today."
jungwon didn't move, his hands still tucked into his pockets as he watched you step away. the easy smile on his lips faded into something quiet and slightly intense, his eyes tracking your defensive posture with an unreadable look.
"anytime, y/n," he murmured softly. "get some rest."
“thank you, jungwon.” you gave him one last polite nod, turning around to finally press the unlock button on your gate. your hands were shaking slightly, and you were desperate to get inside the safety of your house before your face completely gave you away.
“y/n?”
his voice called out, stopping you right in your tracks. your fingers froze against the cold iron of the latch. you took a quiet, steadying breath before slowly looking back over your shoulder.
“yes?”
jungwon was still standing under the amber streetlamp, his hands deeply embedded in his jacket pockets. he tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that completely bypassed your professional walls. the softest, most genuine trace of a smile appeared on his lips, causing his dimples to faintly show in the shadows.
“you looked pretty today.”
***
dear y/n,
sometimes, the universe doesn’t just nudge you; it completely corners you. you try to write off his kindness as a collective luxury, a universal trait he hands out to anyone who asks, because believing you are special is a luxury you simply cannot afford. but how do you categorize a quiet detour under an amber streetlamp? how do you rationalize a parting line that wasn't meant for a coworker, a classmate, or a crowd, but uniquely, devastatingly, for you?
you couldn’t reply.
the moment the word left his lips, your brain completely short-circuited, leaving you entirely breathless under the dim streetlamp. you practically threw yourself through the gate, shutting the iron latch behind you with a loud, metallic clang that echoed through the quiet neighborhood. your heart was hammering violently against your ribs as you sprinted up the steps, not daring to look back to see if he was still standing there watching you run.
it was only when you were locked safely inside the dark sanctuary of your bedroom that you finally collapsed against the mattress, pulling a pillow over your face to smother a helpless, frustrated groan.
you looked pretty today.
the phrase replayed in a dizzying, echoing loop, vibrating straight down to your fingertips. you tightly closed your eyes, desperately trying to summon the cold reality check from the lecture hall. he is just nice. he is just a naturally attentive guy who knows how to make people feel comfortable on a set.
but as you turned over and stared at the dark ceiling, your fingers tracing the edges of your blanket, a quiet, terrifying truth settled in your chest. no matter how high you built your walls, yang jungwon didn't even have to try and scale them.
he was effortlessly dismantling them, brick by single brick, and you were completely running out of places to hide.
the next morning brought a blinding, unapologetic sunlight that did absolutely nothing to clear the fog in your head. you woke up with your limbs tangled in your sheets, your phone still clutched tightly in your palm as if you had been guarding it in your sleep.
when you dragged yourself out of bed and walked over to the bathroom sink, you actively avoided looking at your reflection for the first five minutes. you splashed ice-cold water onto your face, hoping the shock of it would finally scrub the lingering warmth out of your cheeks and snap you back into reality.
it was just studio adrenaline, you reasoned with yourself, aggressively rubbing a fluffy towel against your skin. people say fleeting things when they’re tired after a long shoot. he was probably just riding the high of a successful layout.
but the moment you sat down at your vanity to start your morning skincare routine, your hands froze.
you picked up your daily moisturizer, but your eyes involuntarily drifted to your own reflection in the glass. suddenly, you weren't looking at your bedroom walls anymore. you were seeing the dark studio mirror. you were seeing the way his dark eyes had pierced right through the reflection, tracking your every move while the makeup brush swept across your skin.
you looked down at your hands, your chest tightening. your fingertips automatically brushed against your collarbone, tracing the exact spot where he had told you to place your hands.
"beautiful," his whispered voice echoed in your ears, so clear it made you flinch.
you let out a shaky breath, forcing your hands down into your lap. it was terrifying how a single night could completely alter the space around you. your bedroom, your vanity, your own face—everything felt entirely compromised by him. you couldn't even apply your makeup without wondering if your features really did look the way he implied.
unable to handle the loud silence of your thoughts, you decided to escape your room. you spent the rest of the morning trying to drown out his voice with mundane tasks—cleaning your desk, organizing your elective binders, and making a mental checklist of your upcoming assignments.
by saturday afternoon, your eyes were heavy from lack of sleep, your mind completely exhausted from the non-stop mental gymnastics. you had finally managed to calm your heart rate down, sitting at your desk and staring blankly at a textbook.
ding.
the sharp vibration of your phone against the wooden desk made you flinch.
your hands shook slightly as you picked it up, your breath instantly catching when you saw his name illuminated on the lock screen.
jungwon: [1 file attached]
jungwon: finished compiling the raw layouts for director kang. thought i’d send you your edit first.
you swallowed hard, your thumb hovering over the glass. you tapped the file, waiting a few agonizing seconds for the high-resolution image to clear.
when the details finally rendered, the air left your lungs completely.
it wasn’t just a well-shot photo. he hadn't used the sharp, cool commercial lighting the director usually preferred for editorial pitches. instead, the coloring was incredibly soft, almost romantic, warming up your skin profile in a way that made you look like you were glowing from the inside out.
but it was the lighting on your eyes that made your chest completely constrict. he had meticulously adjusted the shadows so that the tiny, glittering reflection of the studio lights caught the exact center of your pupils. your gaze looked impossibly deep, intense, and vulnerable.
he had spent hours looking at your face in high-definition. he had zoomed in on your features, balanced your undertones, cleaned up the lines, and perfected the exposure.
you stared at the screen, your heart racing. a normal photographer would have just dropped the files into the shared studio google drive or handed them over on monday. but yang jungwon had edited yours personally, isolated it from the rest of the layout, and sent it directly to your private inbox on a saturday afternoon.
you slowly leaned back against your chair, the cold wood pressing into your spine as you stared at the beautiful, terrifying image of yourself.
you could try to convince yourself that he was just a gentleman under the streetlamp. you could pretend he was just being polite when he called you pretty. but looking at this photo, you realized something that terrified you to your core: through the lens of his camera, yang jungwon looked at you like you were the only thing on the set that mattered.
your phone buzzed again in your palm, making you jump.
jungwon: do you like them?
y/n: i love them, jungwon! you did an amazing job with the lighting and the textures. it doesn't even look like me.
jungwon: it looks exactly like you. i just captured what was already there.
your phone slipped an inch in your hand. you squeezed your eyes shut, a soft, helpless groan escaping your lips as you buried your face in your arms on the desk.
he was doing it again. he was effortlessly throwing lines that completely bypassed your defenses, speaking with a terrifying sincerity that left you absolutely no room to hide.
a week later, director kang officially approved the editorial pitch, and the official shoot layouts were finally uploaded to the department's public portfolio. you felt a quiet sense of relief, thinking the excitement from that chaotic friday had finally settled down.
until later that evening, when your phone notification panel lit up with a tag.
yang_jw tagged you in a post.
your thumb practically smashed against the screen to open the app.
it was a carousel post titled simply: bts 📸
the first slide was a moody shot of an overhead key light piercing through the dark studio. the second was a close-up of a heavy black camera cable coiled neatly over a metal stand. the third was the empty grey seamless backdrop.
and then, you swiped to the fourth slide.
the breath caught in your throat.
it was you.
it wasn’t one of the polished, perfectly posed files he had sent to director kang. it was a candid, behind-the-scenes frame captured right in the middle of the shoot. you were sitting in the leather vanity chair, the bright, blinding bulbs framing your silhouette, your chin turned slightly over your shoulder. your expression wasn't a professional mask; it was soft, slightly dazed, caught in the exact microsecond you had instinctively looked into the mirror to search for his reflection in the dark background.
he had captured the exact moment you were looking for him.
you swiped to the fifth and sixth slides: more inanimate props, a discarded lens cap, the digital monitor from a distance.
you swiped back to the fourth slide, your heart hammering against your ribs so violently it felt loud in the quiet of your room.
you stared at the screen, your eyes tracing the soft edge of your own silhouette under the bright vanity bulbs. anyone else scrolling through his feed would just see a cool, atmospheric behind-the-scenes shot of a makeup student on set. they wouldn't notice the way the light caught the exact, vulnerable curve of your shoulder. they wouldn't know that the slight daze in your eyes was because you had been looking for him in the dark studio mirrors.
but you knew. and more terrifyingly, jungwon knew too.
your thumb hovered over the screen, paralyzed by the sheer weight of what this meant. you could rationalize notes. you could rationalize a long walk home in the dark as standard gentlemanly politeness. you could even convince yourself that a personal photo edit was just him being a meticulous, dedicated photographer.
but this? breaking his own years-long aesthetic grid just to drop a candid frame of your face into the world?
there were no olympic-level mental gymnastics left to save you. you couldn't hide behind the "good classmate" excuse anymore.
with a trembling thumb, you tapped the little heart icon below the post, watching it turn red.
almost instantly, a new notification slid down from the top of your screen, making you gasp softly in the quiet room.
yang_jw: you're awake?
shit, shit, shit!
you scrambled backward against your headboard, nearly dropping the device straight onto your face. you had liked the post less than thirty seconds after he uploaded it. there was absolutely no playing the "i just happened to see it on my feed" card—you were actively lurking, and your lightning-fast double-tap had completely exposed you.
your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, typing and deleting three different responses while your chest squeezed with a frantic, dizzying heat.
y/n: yeah, just finishing up some reading.
you pressed send, holding your breath as the single gray checkmark turned blue. almost immediately, the three typing dots appeared.
yang_jw: reading? at 1 AM?
yang_jw: or were you just waiting for my post?
you let out a helpless, strangled sound into the empty space of your bedroom, burying your burning face straight into your pillows. he was shameless. he was entirely, utterly shameless, and the worst part was that he was exactly right.
before you could even think of a defensive lie to protect your dignity, your phone buzzed again in your palm.
yang_jw: do you like the fourth slide?
your breath hitched. he wasn't dancing around it. he knew exactly what he did when he put that candid photo of you in the middle of his grid, and he was deliberately forcing you to acknowledge it.
you sat up, biting your lower lip until it turned white. you couldn't keep running. if he was going to be this bold, you had to find a way to stabilize your own footing before you completely dissolved under his pace.
y/n: the lighting was nice. but i thought your feed was strictly landscapes.
you stared at the screen, your heart hammering a chaotic rhythm against your ribs as you waited. seconds ticked by like hours until the screen lit up with his reply.
yang_jw: you keep tabs on my feed?
shit.
but before you could even think of a lie to salvage yourself, the next bubble popped up.
yang_jw: but yes, it is.
yang_jw: but you looked too pretty in that mirror to leave you in a hidden folder.
you completely froze in your spot.
the air left your lungs, leaving you staring blankly at the glowing screen as the world around you fell entirely silent. you couldn't move. you couldn't blink. your fingers remained locked stiffly around the edges of your phone, your eyes glued to the word pretty.
when you finally found the strength to move, it was only to let out a shaky, breathless exhale. then you rolled onto your bed, your stomach flat on the mattress, and let out a muffled scream into your pillow.
***
dear, y/n,
it is a completely strange but nice feeling to realize you aren't trying to pull away anymore. you are slowly getting used to the feeling again, realizing it's okay to just let someone in without making everything so complicated.
you find yourself looking forward to see and hear from him again, no longer finding the shield to protect your composure.
the next morning arrived. you walked onto campus with a lighter step, the lingering echo of jungwon’s late-night words crawling in your mind like he planned to occupy every single corner of your head.
you spotted him almost immediately near the entrance of the lecture hall, leaning against the hallway wall with his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he chatted with a few classmates. the exact moment you stepped into view, his eyes instinctively separated from the crowd, tracking your approach with that same soft, unwavering focus that had defined the studio mirrors.
as you drew closer, the conversation around him seemed to fade into a quiet blur, leaving just the steady ground between the two of you.
"morning, y/n," jungwon murmured, his voice dropping into a softer, private register meant only for you as a genuine, dimpled smile broke across his face.
your heart gave a familiar, dangerous thump, but instead of panicking, you found yourself returning his smile. "morning, jungwon."
he stepped away from the wall, naturally falling into step right beside you as you walked through the threshold of the lecture hall. the sudden shift from the chaotic, noisy hallway to the relative quiet of the classroom felt seamless with him next to you. without even asking, he guided you toward the middle row, pulling out the chair right next to the one where his laptop and notebook were already neatly set up.
he had saved you a seat.
"you look awake for someone who was reading at 1 AM," he teased quietly, sliding into his chair and leaning his chin in his hand as he looked over at you, his eyes glinting with a familiar, playful mischief.
you felt a sudden rush of warmth in your cheeks, but you managed to look right back at him. "i told you, i had things to finish."
"right," he hummed, the corners of his lips twitching as the professor walked up to the podium and the lecture hall began to quiet down. jungwon opened his notebook, but before he focused on the board, he leaned in just a fraction closer, his voice a low, comforting murmur against the background noise of opening laptops. "we're getting dinner after this, by the way. i found a really good place nearby."
it wasn't even a question. it was an inivitation that you would spend your evening with him, and the terrifying part was that you didn't even want to object.
by the time the late-afternoon elective finally wrapped up, the sun was already dipping below the horizon, casting long, amber shadows across the campus pathways. you followed jungwon through the bustling streets just outside the university gates, the humid evening air a stark contrast to the air-conditioned lecture hall.
he led you down a quieter alley, stopping in front of a small, cozy restaurant with warm, low-hanging yellow lights glowing behind a tinted glass pane. inside, the space was small and intimate, filled with the soft chatter of other students and the rich, savory aroma of hot food.
"two?" the server asked, and jungwon nodded, naturally guiding you toward a booth tucked away in the back corner, away from the main walkway.
as you slipped into the leather seat, the soft ambient lighting washed over his features, throwing the sharp angles of his jawline and the deep set of his eyes into beautiful, soft relief. it felt completely different from the high-stakes pressure of the studio or the crowded campus. here, stripped of cameras and portfolios, it was just the two of you.
"order whatever you want," jungwon said, sliding the menu across the dark wooden table toward you, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting second that left a trail of static on your skin. "my treat today. to celebrate your successful photoshoot."
you looked up from the menu, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "you give me too much credit. you did good too, you know."
jungwon let out a low, amused huff, leaning back against the leather booth as he looked at you through the warm, dim lighting of the restaurant. "is that so? i guess we make a pretty good team then."
your cheeks burned, “i guess we do.”
and as the weeks bled into a comfortable rhythm, you realized you really did.
that quiet dinner quickly transformed from a one-time celebration into a regular part of your routine. it happened so gradually that you didn't even notice the shift at first. one day you were just elective mates, then interns working on a shoot, and the next, he was naturally weaving you into every single part of his day, making it easy for you to navigate the lively, chaotic orbit of his massive social circle.
because jungwon was the type of guy who belonged to everyone, hanging out with him meant automatically being pulled into his circle. you became a familiar face at the crowded university cafeteria tables, sharing loud, overlapping conversations with his friends who welcomed you without a single second of hesitation. you watched him handle the campus attention with an easy, effortless charm, throwing bright smiles to passing students and keeping everyone laughing.
but the real magic always happened when the noise of the crowd finally thinned out. no matter how many people were vying for his attention during the day, the late evenings always distilled down to just the two of you, sitting across from each other at that same dark wooden table under the warm, low-hanging yellow lights.
"you're staring," jungwon murmured one rainy tuesday evening, a soft, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he set his chopsticks down.
you blinked, tearing your gaze away from the sharp line of his jaw to look down at your half-empty bowl. "i am not. i was just thinking."
"about what?" he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, closing the physical distance between you just enough to make the ambient chatter of the restaurant fade into the background.
"just... how you manage to keep up with everyone," you admitted honestly, gesturing vaguely toward the window where a group of students from his department had just waved at him through the glass. "you're always surrounded by people."
jungwon looked out the window for a brief second, then turned his focus back to you, his dark eyes softening into that intense, private expression he only ever used when the two of you were alone. "it's easy to talk to everyone, y/n. but that doesn't mean i want to spend my quiet hours with just anyone."
before you could even process the sudden, breathless skip of your heart, a confident, unfamiliar voice interrupted the space between you.
"hey, jungwon, right? i thought that was you."
you blinked, turning your head toward the edge of the booth. yoonchae from your class was standing there, looking effortlessly chic in a cropped leather jacket, a bright, confident smile fixed entirely on jungwon. she didn't even glance your way, completely erasing your presence from the table.
"i saw your latest photography feature on the department page," she continued smoothly, leaning slightly against the wooden partition of your booth. "it was amazing. i was actually wondering if you had time to collaborate on a editorial project next month? can i get your instagram or phone number?"
your chest tightened instantly. your mind, always looking for a reason to retreat, immediately clouded over with that familiar, suffocating insecurity. here it is, a bitter voice whispered in your head. this is his actual world. this girl was confident, stylish, and fit perfectly into the creative orbit he ran in. you were just the girl he casually helped out, the lesson he learned along the way to becoming a better photographer. you were a placeholder in his quiet hours until someone who actually belonged in his grid stepped up.
you lowered your eyes to your lap, your fingers gripping the fabric of your skirt as you prepared for him to give his usual, friendly campus smile and type his number into her phone.
"sorry, i can't," jungwon said.
his voice wasn't just polite; it was incredibly flat, completely stripped of the warm, universal charm he usually gave out so freely.
the girl blinked, caught off guard. "oh? are you too busy with the elective portfolio?"
jungwon didn't hesitate for a single second. he casually shifted in his seat, his hand moving across the table until his knuckles lightly brushed against your arm, drawing a firm, undeniable boundary in front of the stranger.
"no," jungwon said softly, his eyes dropping to you for a brief, reassuring second before he looked back up at the girl. "my girlfriend is right here. i don't take private project numbers."
your lungs completely locked up.
for a single, terrifying second, your heart fluttered so violently against your ribs it felt deafening. girlfriend. hearing the word leave his lips, spoken with such heavy, calm authority in his low voice, sent a sudden, dizzying rush of heat straight to your face.
but almost as fast as the thrill arrived, the cold weight of reality crashed right back down, pulling the warmth straight out of your chest.
yoonchae mumbled a quick, embarrassed apology and quickly retreated, but your mind had already clouded over, spiraling back into that familiar, suffocating insecurity.
you were just a prop.
the thought settled heavy and bitter in your stomach. because a guy like yang jungwon: a universally loved, constantly surrounded by people, and utterly effortless doesn't do serious relationships. he didn't need to. he was just a naturally attentive, overly nice guy who treated everyone with a baseline level of casual intimacy. he was smooth because it was his default setting, not because he was trying to win you over.
he didn't mean the word girlfriend. he had just used you as a convenient, safe shield to get out of an awkward conversation because he knew you wouldn't make a scene.
"sorry about that," jungwon murmured, turning his full attention back to you, his expression softening as if he hadn't just completely shattered your internal world. "she can be a bit persistent."
you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a small, tight smile to your lips as your walls slammed shut with a heavy, definitive thud.
"t-tell me about it," you said, forcing a small, hollow laugh as you poked at your food. "good strategy though. i make a pretty believable prop, don't i?"
you tried to look up and give him a funny, conspiratorial wink—anything to bury the suffocating weight crashing down on your chest. but your smile didn't reach your eyes, and your voice cracked just a fraction too much on the last word.
and jungwon, being the observant person he was, didn't laugh.
the easy, playful expression completely melted off his face, replaced by a quiet, piercing focus that made you want to look away. he slowly set his glass down on the table, his dark eyes tracking the slight tremor in your fingers before locking onto yours.
“you okay, y/n?” he asked softly, bending down to look at your eyes. but you quickly avoided him.
“y-yeah. just got something in my eye is all. listen, i still have some projects to finish so i need to go.”
“let me take you home–”
"no!" you quickly interrupted, scrambling to grab your bag. "i mean, wouldn't want to overstep." and just like that, you ran out of the restaurant before he could even reach for the bill.
what you didn’t know was jungwon felt his own chest tighten.
***
dear, y/n,
this is exactly why you should’ve kept your walls up.
it is a painful, heavy thing to realize how quickly you can fall back into the habit of building walls. you are slowly getting used to the feeling again, realizing that the only way to keep your heart safe from someone who belongs to the world is to completely remove yourself from the equation.
you tell yourself it’s safer to just be distant again. it’s way easier to pretend you don't care than to risk believing you actually matter to someone like him.
a week has passed since that day.
today, the morning arrived with a gray, overcast sky that seemed to match the cold numbness settling back into your chest. you walked onto campus with a heavy, deliberate step, your eyes strictly fixed on the concrete pathways to avoid scanning the crowds for a familiar shock of dark hair. you had your oversized jacket pulled tightly around you like armor, determined to slip back into the quiet anonymity of being just another student in the department.
you managed to avoid the main lecture hall entrance entirely, slipping through the side doors and taking a seat in the very last row, tucked far away from the middle rows where you had spent the last few weeks.
"y/n."
your fingers froze on the zipper of your bag at the sound of his voice.
jungwon was standing at the end of the row, looking completely exhausted. the usual easy, universal charm was entirely missing from his face, his dark eyes shadowed with a quiet, desperate intensity as he looked down at you. he didn't care that a few passing classmates were glancing over at his unusually tense posture; his focus was entirely locked onto you.
"you didn't answer my texts," he said softly, his voice dropping into that private register, though this time it sounded raw, carrying a heavy weight that made your chest ache. "i kept calling you."
you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing your expression to remain perfectly flat as you looked up at him, refusing to let him see how much you were hurting. "i told you, jungwon. i had projects to finish. you don't need to check up on me."
jungwon took a step closer into the row, his knuckles white as he gripped the back of the empty chair in front of you. "you’re not a prop. at the restaurant. i’m sorry i hurt you."
you looked down at your hands, refusing to meet his eyes because you knew your expression would crumble.
"it's fine, jungwon," you whispered, trying to force your voice to sound completely detached. "it was just a joke. you don't have to apologize for something petty."
"it wasn't a joke to me," he cut in, his voice dropping even lower, thick with a frustration you had never heard from him before. he slid into the empty seat right next to you, his presence suddenly overwhelming the small space in the back row. "i didn't say it just to make her leave, y/n. i said it because... because it didn't feel entirely like a lie to me."
your breath hitched, your eyes snapping up to look at him.
jungwon was leaning in close, his usual calm demeanor completely shattered. he looked vulnerable, almost fragile, his dark eyes searching your face for any sign of the warmth you used to give him so easily.
"there's actually someone i really like right now," he murmured, the confession slipping into the quiet space between you like a heavy secret. "and seeing her stand there, asking for my number...it just made me realize how much i only want to focus on one person."
he was looking at you with so much quiet intensity, his lips slightly parted as if he was waiting for you to understand, waiting for you to realize exactly who he was talking about.
but your brain, completely clouded by a week of suffocating insecurity, didn't see the love in his eyes. it only saw a devastating confirmation of your worst fear.
he likes someone else.
the words echoed like a physical blow inside your head. you were the practice run. the lesson.
"oh," you forced out, the word tasting like lead on your tongue. you managed to pull a tight, completely empty smile onto your face, even as your chest felt like it was physically breaking. "i... i didn't know. she's really lucky, jungwon. i hope it works out for you."
before he could even react to the sudden, freezing distance in your voice, you stood up, grabbing your bag and stepping past his frozen frame into the aisle, running away before the tears blinding your vision could finally fall.
“you.”
you didn't move. you couldn't breathe. for a second, you thought you were hallucinating.
slowly, you turned around.
jungwon was already standing up. his shoulders tense as he stared straight at you.
"it's you, y/n," he said, his voice cracking slightly on your name as he closed the small distance between you in two long steps, stopping just close enough that you could feel the sudden warmth radiating off him. "the girl i like. the only person i want to focus on. it's been you this entire time."
she would feel an absolute, dizzying rush of cognitive dissonance—like the ground had suddenly been pulled out from under her boots. after a whole week of meticulously convincing herself that she was completely invisible and just a temporary "lesson" in his life, his sudden confession completely short-circuits her brain.
her walls are still up, but they are cracking violently. she is caught between a desperate, fluttering spark of hope and the terrifying urge to protect herself from a cruel joke.
"it's you, y/n," he said, his voice cracking slightly on your name as he closed the small distance between you in two long steps, stopping just close enough that you could feel the sudden warmth radiating off him. "the girl i like. the only person i want to focus on. it's been you this entire time."
your brain completely short-circuited.
you stared at him, your chest heaving as you tried to find a catch, a punchline, anything to make reality align with your insecurities again. but jungwon’s face was completely raw, his lower lip slightly trembling as he waited for you to say something.
“w-what?” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as you took a small, panicked step back. “when? why?”
the questions tumbled out of you in a frantic, unpolished rush, stripping away all the cold, distant armor you had tried so hard to build.
"what do you mean why?" jungwon asked, a breathless, incredulous laugh escaping his lips as he took a step forward to close the gap you had just made. he reached out, his fingers gently captured your wrist, his thumb resting right over your racing pulse.
he let out a low, shaky exhale, his thumb moving in a slow, comforting circle against your skin, trying to ground you through your panic.
"i fell for you on our very first day as interns," he murmured, his dark eyes softening completely as he brought you back to the beginning. "remember that chaotic first shoot? everyone was running around, but i couldn't take my eyes off you. you were so shy, yet you were completely locked in. i loved how focused you were, how much heart you put into every single task. you were radiant, y/n. in a room full of people trying to stand out, you stood out to me just by being you."
he took a small step closer, his voice dropping into that intense, private register that belonged only to you.
"i did everything because i wanted an excuse to be near you," he whispered. "it's been you since that exact day. how could you think it was anyone else?"
“i was…i was never the one,” you whispered. “i was never the one that people think i’m worth staying for.”
jungwon let out a sharp, ragged breath, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to keep you anchored as your words physically pained him. the easy, polite campus favorite completely disappeared, replaced by a boy who looked entirely devastated that the girl he loved felt so invisible.
he didn't hesitate. he took that final step, closing the remaining distance between you until he was gently framing your face with his hands, his thumbs carefully wiping away the tears on your cheeks.
"i'm not going anywhere, y/n. i'm staying right here. with you."
***
dear, y/n,
it turns out that rewriting the script in your head is a slow, terrifying process.
for a long time, you were completely sure you were just the type of girl guys date before finding the one they actually want to settle down with. you really believed you were just a temporary phase. but now, jungwon is completely focused on you, and he isn't looking for anyone else.
you're still really anxious, though. every time your phone lights up, a part of you still expects him to text you saying he changed his mind or made a mistake. but he doesn't. instead, he just keeps showing up and proving you wrong.
nothing is official yet. you didn't suddenly become his girlfriend overnight. but even without a label, everything between you two feels completely different now.
on a tuesday morning, you didn't sit in the back row.
you had tried to, out of habit. your fingers pulling the strap of your oversized bag tight against your shoulder as you entered the side door. but jungwon was already there, sitting in the middle row right where you two used to be. the moment the door clicked, his head snapped up, his dark eyes instantly finding yours in the crowd.
he didn't wave or make a scene, but a small, private smile tugged at the corner of his lips. he casually lifted his laptop sleeve off the empty plastic chair beside him, claiming the space before anyone else could even think to take it.
your heart did that familiar, breathless flutter as you walked down the steps.
"hey," he murmured softly as you slid into the seat, his voice dropping into that private register that still made your face flush. he didn't slide his hand over yours or push your boundaries, but he reached into his jacket pocket and slid a small, familiar plastic bottle across the desk.
it was a fresh bottle of the exact soothing eye drops you always used when your eyes got tired from staring at editing screens.
"since you had something in your eye last week," jungwon said, his eyes crinkling slightly with a gentle, teasing warmth that completely lacked any judgment. "just in case."
you stared at the bottle, the lump in your throat returning, but this time it wasn't from sadness. "jungwon, you didn't have to—"
"i wanted to," he interrupted softly, leaning his elbow on the desk so he could look at you properly.
and then he did the one thing that always sent your heart into an absolute frenzy.
he leaned his elbow on the desk, tilting his head as he intentionally closed the distance between you. jungwon brought his face so close you could trace the sharp line of his jaw, the faint scent of his laundry detergent instantly filling your senses. his dark eyes locked onto yours, completely invading your personal space in that quiet, effortless way only he could pull off.
“j-jungwon?” you stammered, your voice coming out as a tiny, embarrassed squeak as you tried to press your back against the hard plastic of your chair to gain an inch of safety.
“mhm?” he murmured, not moving back even a fraction of a millimeter. instead, a tiny, knowing smirk began to pull at the corner of his lips, clearly enjoying how easily he could throw you off balance.
“y-you’re too close,” you whispered frantically, your hands gripping your desk as you looked around to see if anyone was watching. “mr. lee just entered the room.”
jungwon didn't panic. instead, his smirk widened just a fraction, his dark eyes brimming with amusement at your flustered reaction.
slowly, casually, he leaned back into his own space just as the professor set his briefcase on the podium. but right before he completely pulled away, jungwon leaned in one last inch, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper right against your ear.
"mr. lee can wait," he murmured, his tone dripping with a quiet, playful confidence. "but fine. i'll let you focus on the lecture. for now."
he straightened up in his seat, opening his notebook with perfect poise as if he hadn't just completely set your nerve endings on fire. but as he picked up his pen, he deliberately shifted his notebook just an inch closer to yours, his shoulder lightly brushing against your arm—a constant, warm reminder that he wasn't going anywhere.
now that you and jungwon are now aware of feelings towards each other, he has become flirtier each day. but with boundaries. he still asks if it’s okay to hold your hand, place his arm around your shoulder when walking, always checking in with a quiet, questioning look before stepping an inch closer into your space.
and every time he notices you second guessing if you want something, he takes the initiative of doing it. so in days that you do want to hold his hand but too shy to ask, he gently places his hand under yours and locks your fingers. and of course, it sent your heart into overdrive.
on friday afternoon, as the campus was emptying out, jungwon slung his backpack over one shoulder and leaned against the edge of your desk.
"a few of my seniors are holding a small wrap-up gallery in the department studio tonight," he said, tilting his head to catch your eyes. "then we’ll have an after party. just some music, drinks, and looking over the final print layouts. i want you to come with me."
your fingers paused on your notebook. the familiar, anxious tightening returned to your chest, your mind instantly telling you that you didn't belong in a room full of talented, confident upperclassmen who already knew him so well.
“is it alright?” you whispered, looking up at him uncertainty. “i don't want to intrude.”
jungwon’s expression softened instantly. he didn't laugh or dismiss your worry. instead, he stepped closer, blocking out the rest of the noisy hallway so it was just the two of you.
"you're not intruding, y/n," he said softly, his voice steady and completely serious as he reached down to gently tap the back of your hand. "i'm the one asking you. i want you to be there. with me."
then the night of the gallery came.
the studio was packed, filled with the low hum of indie music, the clinking of plastic cups, and the bright, warm glow of track lighting illuminating the rows of framed photographs along the walls. jungwon had been caught by a group of design seniors the moment you walked through the door. you had gently nudged his shoulder, giving him a small smile to let him know you didn't mind, before slipping away into the crowd to look around on your own.
the talent in the room was undeniable, but as you wandered down the final row of the exhibition, your steps slowed to a complete halt in front of a small, dedicated corner panel.
your breath caught in your throat.
the first frame was a candid shot from your very first day as interns. it was the chaotic studio set, cluttered with stray wires and half-assembled lighting rigs, but the camera hadn’t focused on the set. it was focused entirely on you. you sat on a crate with your face angled away, completely locked into adjusting a camera lens.
the second frame was the campus lecture hall taken from a low angle. it captured the stark, geometric lines of the plastic desks, but the focus was trained on the middle rows where you two always used to sit. a soft, natural light filtered through the gray windows, hitting the exact spot where his notebook usually brushed against yours.
and the final photograph made your heart do a sudden, breathless flip.
it was the outside of the restaurant from a week ago, taken through the glass window under a heavy, overcast sky. the frame captured the exact table where everything had boiled over, the blurry reflection of the street lights casting a quiet, moody atmosphere over the empty chairs.
the photos were the places you had been with him.
beneath the triptych of photos was a small, white card printed with a simple title:
paying attention.
"i didn't put your face on blast, i promise," a soft voice murmured right behind your ear.
you turned around to find jungwon right behind you, his hands in his pockets as he smiled down at you.
"i asked the professor if i could keep the subject anonymous on the final prints," he explained softly, stepping a little closer into your space. "i wanted to show you how i see you, but... is this okay? if it makes you uncomfortable, i can take them down right now. seriously."
"no," you whispered, a genuine smile finally breaking through the remnants of your anxiety. "don't take them down. they're... really beautiful."
without second guessing, you threw your arms around jungwon.
you felt a deep, grounding warmth expand in your chest—the realization that you were someone worth paying attention to.
after five hours, the after-party finally started. the room was alive with everyone cheering, laughing, and clinking their beer glasses together in celebration.
“congrats to us!” jungwon's senior, lee chan, toasted, raising his glass high into the air.
after taking a sip, chan’s eyes flicked over to you, a warm smile breaking across his face. "and thanks for coming, y/n! jungwon was practically talking about it for days.”
your face flushed a sudden crimson, your eyes darting over to jungwon.
jungwon just let out a soft laugh, completely unbothered by his senior exposing him. he casually slung an arm around your shoulder, bringing you securely into the circle. "ignore him," he murmured down to you, his thumb lightly rubbing against your arm. "but he's not entirely wrong."
“jungwon, hey!”
yoonchae was there again. you remembered that she was probably only around because her brother was in the same department as jungwon, a detail he had mentioned to you weeks ago.
“yoonchae, hi.”
“so, i heard from my brother that you and y/n aren't actually dating," she started, pulling her phone out of her bag and extending it toward him with a hopeful smile. "so… i was thinking if i can maybe, you know? come on, it's not like you're taken, right?”
“yoonchae, i've already told you before that i am interested in someone.” jungwon didn't hesitate for a single second. he reached down, deliberately capturing your hand and locking his fingers tightly with yours. “she's right here. dating or not, y/n is the only girl i like.”
yoonchae’s jaw dropped slightly. she stared at jungwon, entirely speechless at how effortlessly and publicly he had rejected her.
she looked at you, then back at jungwon. without uttering another syllable, she gave a stiff, embarrassed nod and quickly slipped away into the crowd.
the night continued with you and jungwon completely melting into the crowd. almost everyone couldn't help but tease him, laughing at how he looked like a total lovesick puppy and constantly joking about how he had finally found his muse.
eventually, the party wound down, and the two of you walked home together through the quiet streets. your hand was wrapped in his, his fingers locked firmly in yours.
“wasn't that too harsh?” you asked softly, breaking the silence as you looked down at your joined hands.
“not if she completely ignored your presence,” jungwon replied without a shred of regret, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction.
you bit your inner lip, your heart doing a small flutter as you built up the courage to ask the question that had been looping in your head. “but... were you serious? about what you said?”
jungwon looked down at you with a slow, knowing smirk. he knew exactly what you meant, but he wanted to hear you say it. “which part?”
your eyes grew wide, but you tried your absolute best to maintain your composure. “you know... the part where you said... you like me.” the last few words came out as a quiet mumble, your face burning.
“what's that?” he teased, tilting his head closer to yours. “didn't quite catch that.”
“jungwon,” you whined, pulling slightly on his hand.
“what? come on, say it clearly,” he laughed.
“jungwon!” you whined again, hiding your face slightly behind your free hand.
but then, the teasing look in his eyes began to shift. his laughter quieted down, replaced by a soft, intense focus that made the breath hitch in your throat. the ambient hum of the streetlights overhead suddenly felt incredibly loud as he stopped walking, causing you to pause right along with him.
“you are,” jungwon murmured, his voice dropping into a gentle, low register. he lifted your hand, his thumb softly tracing the knuckles before he let go of the tight grip to hold just your fingertips, his skin warm against yours. “i really like you, y/n.”
the sheer sincerity in his dark eyes stripped away all of your remaining defense mechanisms. the anxiety that usually kept you trapped in your own head completely evaporated, leaving only the honest, racing beat of your heart.
“i-i really like you too,” you whispered back, your voice small but steady.
jungwon took a slow step closer, completely closing the distance between you. his free hand came up, his fingers brushing light as a feather against your jawline before his thumb settled right at the corner of your cheekbone, tilting your face up just a fraction. he didn't rush. he just stood there for a breathless second, his gaze flicking down to your lips before locking back onto your wide eyes, waiting patiently for you to adjust to how close he was.
“can i kiss you?” he asked softly, his thumb giving your cheek a reassuring, tender stroke.
“please,” you whispered, the word leaving your lips like a breathless plea.
a soft smile broke across jungwon’s face at your response. he didn't wait another second. his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling into your hair as he leaned down and finally pressed his lips to yours, sweet and slow.
it made your heart do a dizzying, breathless flip. his lips were incredibly soft, parting slightly as he pulled you just a fraction closer against his chest. your fingers instinctively gripped the fabric of his jacket, your whole body melting into the touch as a warm, electric flutter rushed from your chest straight down to your toes.
as both of you pulled away from the kiss, jungwon let his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you back in for a quick, tight hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck for a second, letting out a soft hum of satisfaction that made your heart do another dizzying flip.
“does this mean we're… boyfriend and girlfriend?” you asked shyly, your fingers lightly gripping the fabric of his jacket.
jungwon let out a soft giggle against your skin, the vibration tickling your neck before he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes full of warmth. “yes. yes, i'd love that.”
***
dear y/n,
it is a beautiful thing indeed to be able to find someone. you are incredibly, genuinely happy, and your heart doesn't feel like it's constantly bracing for impact anymore.
but being with jungwon has also taught you that a real relationship isn't all cupcakes and rainbows. there are still days when your old insecurities and tendencies to overthink flare up out of nowhere, making you quiet and distant.
loving someone isn't a magical cure for anxiety. it doesn't fix the pieces of you that feel broken.
you and jungwon had a date today. it's been weeks since you have been girlfriend and boyfriend. and it was the happiest you've felt in a while.
a knock startled you out of your thoughts as you checked your outfit one more time. you had opted for a classic combination: a warm cream cardigan layered over a simple tee, paired with structured wide-leg trousers that made you feel completely put-together yet comfortable.
wonhee was grinning brightly at you, stepping right into the entryway the moment the door swung open. without a word, she reached forward to gently adjust the collar of your tee and smooth down the shoulder of your cream cardigan. "there. perfect. you look so effortlessly pretty today! are you ready for your date?”
“a bit nervous,” you admitted, feeling a sudden jolt of nervous electricity running through your system.
“hey,” wonhee placed her hand kn your shoulder, “you got this. and if jungwon doesn't see how incredibly lucky he is to have you, just let me know. i will personally make sure every single senior in his department knows he’s an absolute fool, and his pristine reputation will be completely ruined by tomorrow morning.”
“wonhee,” you taunt.
“i'm just saying.” wonhee giggled, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you toward the door. she gave you a playful nudge forward. "now stop stalling and go. he’s probably already waiting outside, and you shouldn't keep your boyfriend waiting."
boyfriend.
on cue, a knock came again, and this time, you answered it.
when the door swung open, jungwon was standing there, looking effortlessly handsome in a simple jacket. the moment his eyes landed on you, his breath hitched slightly, his gaze sweeping over your cream cardigan and wide-leg trousers with a look of pure, unadulterated admiration.
“hi,” you murmured, your heart doing a familiar flutter.
“hi,” he replied softly, a warm smile breaking across his face as if he couldn't help himself. “you look beautiful.”
“you ready?” he asked, his voice low and comforting.
you nodded your head, the last of your nervous jitters completely melting away. jungwon offered his arm, and you gladly looped yours through it, stepping out into the hallway as he gently pressed your arm closer to his side, making you feel completely secure before you even left the building.
jungwon takes you out to a beautiful, open-air city square where the evening breeze carries the distant chatter of people and the soft glow of fairy lights tangled in the trees. walking arm-in-arm, he effortlessly shields you from the busier walkways, pointing out little shops or laughing at the synchronized fountains, making the wide, bright world feel incredibly small and private just for the two of you.
you smiled, the warmth in your chest blooming beautifully. but as you stepped past a brightly lit clothing storefront, the air in your lungs suddenly turned to ice.
“jungwon, is that actually you?”
the soft, bright voice called out from the restaurant entrance. jungwon paused, turning his head, and you felt his entire posture straighten up in surprise. walking toward your table was a girl with an effortless, radiant smile and a polished grace that made the entire room feel a little brighter.
“minji!” jungwon’s face lit up with immediate, genuine recognition as he stood up to greet her. “wow, it’s been so long. what are you doing back here?”
“my family just moved back to the area,” she laughed, her voice carrying a familiar, easy warmth. jungwon immediately turned to you, his hand reaching for yours to introduce you.
“minji, this is y/n. my girlfriend.”
“omg, hi! finally, jungwon has gotten himself a girlfriend.”
she was completely lovely. she didn't do a single thing wrong. but as she chatted with jungwon for a few minutes about their old neighborhood before waving goodbye, a suffocating wave of anxiety washed over you.
she was stunning. her hair sat perfectly, her laugh was effortless, and she possessed a kind of glowing, unbothered confidence that you felt miles away from. sitting across from jungwon again, your cream cardigan suddenly felt suffocating, and your wide-leg trousers felt like a clumsy attempt at looking put-together. the food on your plate suddenly looked unappetizing as the old, familiar voice whispered that you were completely out of your league.
“y/n? hey, you’re getting quiet on me,” jungwon murmured softly, leaning across the table, his dark eyes full of immediate concern. “what’s going on in that head of yours?”
you stared down at your fingers, tracing the edge of the napkin to keep your voice steady. “she’s… really pretty, jungwon.”
“she’s an old friend,” he replied instantly, a gentle, reassuring smile breaking across his face. “i promise that's all.”
you swallowed past the lump in your throat, the overthinking brain refusing to let go of the bone. “did anything… ever happen between you two? back then?”
“no, never,” jungwon said easily, shaking his head. “we were just kids who grew up on the same block. we played video games and rode bikes. that was literally it.”
you looked up, your eyes searching his face, silent and unconvinced. jungwon sighed softly, a tiny, amused but fond smile tugging at his lips as he realized he couldn't hide anything from you. he reached across the table, covering your cold hand with his warm one.
“okay, fine,” he gave in gently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. “the only thing that ever happened was that our parents used to tease us. when we were around ten, our moms joked around a lot about how we’d probably end up getting married because we were inseparable. but it was just a silly parents' joke.”
he meant it as a reassuring confession to show how ridiculous the history was, but inside your chest, the words landed with a heavy, deafening thud.
married.
“baby,” jungwon murmured, his hands coming up to gently hold your fingers. he looked down at you, his eyes completely honest. “i'm sorry. i shouldn't have brought that up so carelessly. when we were kids, maybe there was a silly, innocent part of me that had a crush on her back then. but i swear to you, those feelings are completely gone. they've been gone for years.”
when you wouldn't look at him, your eyes still trained on the ground as you tried to process the heavy spiral in your chest, jungwon didn't get frustrated or tell you that you were overreacting.
instead, he patiently guided your cold hands up, cupping them securely against his warm cheeks and leaning his face into your soft touch. he tilted his head just enough so that you were forced to see the absolute sincerity in his gaze.
“our parents made jokes about the past, but i'm looking at my future right now,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your wrist, his heartbeat steady and grounding beneath your palms. “it's only you, y/n. it's always just been you.”
“how sure are you about that?”
“how sure are you about that?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your own mind. you hated how small you sounded, hated that even with his face leaning so trustingly into your hands, the ugly, loud voice of your anxiety was still trying to convince you that you were a second choice.
jungwon didn't blink. he didn't sigh in frustration, and he didn't let go of your hands. instead, he just closed his eyes for a brief second, absorbing the raw vulnerability of your question, before looking right back at you with a gaze so steady it felt like an anchor.
“because when i was ten, i didn't know what loving someone actually meant,” he said softly, his voice incredibly quiet but unshakeable. “i thought it was just sharing toys and living on the same block. but with you? i know exactly what it is.”
he kissed the palm of your right hand, his lips warm against your cold skin.
“i'm sure because when something good happens, you're the first person i want to call. i'm sure because even when you get quiet and distant like this, i don't want to be anywhere else in the world except right here, waiting it out with you. minji is a part of a childhood scrapbook, y/n. but you are my real life. you are my today, and you're the only one i want for tomorrow.”
you let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding, the heavy knot in your chest finally loosening under the steady, unshakeable warmth of his words. the ugly, loud whispers of your overthinking brain slowly faded into silence, replaced entirely by the sound of his heartbeat beneath your palms.
he was right. she was the past, but you were his right now.
“okay,” you whispered, a small, watery but genuine smile finally breaking across your lips. “i believe you.”
jungwon smiled back, a look of pure relief crossing his handsome face. he kissed the palm of your hand one more time before lowering your hands, locking his fingers tightly with yours as the two of you began walking down the glowing, tree-lined street once again. the anxiety hadn't completely vanished from your system—it rarely ever did—but with his side pressed warmly against yours, the world felt safe again.
but your worries did not disappear overnight.
months have passed since that evening of your first date, filled with shared laughter and a love that grew steadier with each passing day. jungwon had proven his words true over and over again, never letting you drift when the overthinking got too loud.
yet, the mind is a stubborn thing.
jungwon was and is serious about you. every small gesture, every patient reassurance when you got quiet, and every look he gave you proved that you weren't just a passing chapter in his life. so, he decided that it was finally time for his parents to meet you. he wanted you to meet the people who mattered most to him, completely missing the way your stomach instantly dropped in panic.
“my son!”
as soon as the door opened to jungwon’s condo, his mom gave him a tight hug, immediately stepping past him to look at you with a wide, welcoming smile. jungwon laughed softly, wrapping an arm around his mom's shoulders before gently pulling you into the space alongside them.
“mom, let me breathe first,” he teased gently, though his eyes were bright with happiness as he looked between the two of you.
“but i miss my baby!”
this was the first time you can genuinely see jungwon embarrassed, but it was adorable. his cheeks flushed a faint, endearing pink as he cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual cool composure while his dad just chuckled behind them, carrying a small box of side dishes into the kitchen.
all was going well. the conversation flowed effortlessly over the sound of clinking chopsticks and quiet laughter.
“you know, y/n, jungwon has been smiling so much more lately,” his mom mentioned softly, reaching over to squeeze your wrist. “whenever we call him on the weekends, he’s always in a good mood because he’s either on his way to see you or just got back from a date. you’ve been such a wonderful influence on him.”
“thank you, mrs. yang,” you murmured softly, using the title she had warmly insisted on earlier. you felt a genuine sense of relief wash over you.
but that relief was cut short when his father set down his glass, looking between the two of you with a reflective nod. “it’s just so interesting seeing jungwon with someone so quiet and gentle,” his father noted with a thoughtful, friendly smile. “you know, his mother and i always assumed he’d end up with someone loud and full of energy, like minji. they grew up together, so we were just so used to that specific dynamic. but it’s good that he’s learning to appreciate a different kind of presence now.”
learning to appreciate.
your stomach completely dropped. they weren't trying to be mean at all. it was just a casual comment. but hearing his dad say that made your worst fear feel real. to them, minji was the standard: the girl who naturally fit into his life.
suddenly, that creeping feeling was crawling back into your system and into your head.
this option focuses on him noticing y/n's discomfort right away and stepping in to protect her peace.
jungwon, who had been watching you the entire time, saw the exact moment your face went rigid. without a second thought, his hand reached under the table, finding your ice-cold fingers and squeezing them tightly.
“that was a completely different time, dad,” jungwon cut in smoothly, his voice calm but incredibly firm as he looked directly at his father. “who i was when i was ten years old doesn't matter. y/n is my present, and she’s exactly who i like.”
his mother’s eyes widened slightly at jungwon's serious tone, her expression shifting into immediate regret. she looked at you, her face full of genuine worry.
“oh, dear, i’m so sorry,” his mom said softly, reaching across the table to gently touch your arm. “your father didn't mean it that way at all. we are so happy you’re here with him.”
“yes, please forgive an old man's clumsy words, y/n,” his dad added quickly, looking incredibly apologetic. “i only meant that we are glad to see how happy and grounded jungwon is with you. we really didn't mean to compare you.”
you managed to nod politely, offering his parents a tight, small smile. “it’s okay, mrs. yang. mr. yang, really. don’t worry about it.”
you forced yourself to get through the rest of the dinner. you chewed your food without tasting it, laughed at the right moments, and politely helped clear the plates. you didn't storm out, but your anxiety made you want to disappear.
the second the front door clicked shut and his parents finally left, the fake smile dropped from your face. your breath hitched, and the hot tears you had been holding back for the last hour finally slipped down your cheeks.
jungwon turned around immediately, his face full of pain as he stepped toward you. “y/n, baby, hey—”
“jungwon, please,” you whispered, stepping back, your hands trembling as you wrapped them around yourself. you couldn't take his comfort right now. the ugly thoughts were too loud. “i just… i think i need to go home.”
“y/n, look at me. you heard what i told them. she’s not like that to me. why are you pushing me away?”
“because they look at me and they see a lesson!” your voice finally broke, a sharp, painful sob escaping your throat. “they look at me and see someone who is helping you grow up, jungwon. what if that’s all i am to you? what if i’m just the person you’re with until you’re ready to go back to someone like her?”
jungwon flinched as if you had physically struck him. a heavy, painful silence fell over the apartment. he took a slow breath, his dark eyes brimming with a mix of deep hurt and sheer frustration that he couldn't seem to break through the walls of your anxiety.
“is that really all you think of me?” he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerously quiet, raw whisper. “after all these months, you still think i’m just using you as a placeholder?”
he stepped forward, refusing to let you shrink away this time, his hands gently but firmly capturing your trembling wrists.
“i am not your ex, i’m not your fling, and i’m not jongseong, y/n,” he said, his voice shaking slightly with emotion as he looked directly into your tear-filled eyes. “i don't need a lesson, and i don't need to practice how to love someone. i love you. i chose you, and i am pouring everything i have into us. it hurts so bad that you’re letting a careless comment throw away everything we’ve built.”
you stared at him through a blur of hot tears, his grip on your wrists feeling less like an anchor and more like a trap you desperately needed to escape. you heard his words. he loves youand he isn't your ex. but the chaotic noise inside your head was just too loud. you were completely emotionally exhausted.
“jungwon, please,” you choked out, pulling your wrists back out of his hold. you couldn't look him in the eye, unable to bear the heavy hurt radiating from him. “i can’t… i can’t do this right now. i just really need to go home.”
jungwon stood perfectly still, his hands hanging empty in the space between you. he looked at your trembling shoulders, realizing that no matter what he said right now, your mind was miles away, trapped in a past he hadn't created.
he let out a long, heavy breath, his head dropping for a second before he looked back up at you with soft, tired eyes.
“okay,” he whispered quietly, his voice thick with unvoiced exhaustion. he didn't fight you, and he didn't force you to stay. instead, he reached for his car keys on the counter. “i’ll drive you.”
“no,” you said quickly, stepping back toward the door before he could even take a step toward you. “no, jungwon, please don't.”
jungwon froze, his fingers tightening around his car keys. “y/n, it’s late. i’m not letting you go out there alone like this.”
“i’ll book a ride. i just… if i get in the car with you right now, i feel like i won't be able to breathe,” you confessed, your voice dropping to a desperate, raw whisper. you hated hurting him, but the walls of the apartment already felt like they were crashing down on you. “i need to be completely alone. please.”
the word please seemed to deflate whatever fight jungwon had left in him. he looked at you, seeing the genuine panic in your eyes, and realized that forcing himself to accompany you would only make your spiral worse. it broke his heart, but he put his car keys back down on the counter.
“okay,” he whispered softly, his voice heavy with defeat. “i won't force you. but let me book your ride. let me at least do that so i know you're in a safe car.”
you didn't have the energy to argue. you just stood by the door, hugging yourself tightly as jungwon quietly pulled out his phone, his hands trembling slightly as he booked a ride to your apartment.
when the app showed the driver was outside, he walked over and opened the door for you. he didn't try to hug you or touch you, completely respecting the distance you asked for.
“text me when you get inside your room,” jungwon said, his dark eyes brimming with so much quiet love and unspoken hurt as he watched you step out into the hallway. “even if you don't want to talk to me, just send a dot. please. just let me know you're safe.”
you nodded your head and closed the door. as you walked down the hallway and headed toward the car, you finally let your tears fall, not caring if the receptionist in the lobby or the driver saw you.
***
dear y/n,
you thought you were completely past this after all these months of quiet, steady happiness.
he is good to you, and he has done absolutely nothing wrong. your heart knows he isn't the one who hurt you, but the fear of history repeating itself is paralyzing. you ran away tonight because the walls were closing in, and you are so terrified of ruining something beautiful.
you are standing at a crossroads now, completely exhausted from fighting your own mind. you want to believe you deserve this love, but the urge to protect yourself is pulling you backward. the storm inside you is loud, but will you still find the strength to trust and give it a try?
you texted jungwon that you needed space. you told him you just needed to make sure history wasn't repeating itself.
it took a few long, agonizing minutes before your phone buzzed in your hand.
jungwon: i understand. take all the time you need, y/n. i’m not going anywhere, and i’m not letting go of us. please just rest well tonight.
staring at the glowing screen, a fresh wave of tears blurred your vision. he was giving you the exact reassurance you desperately needed, yet the heavy, unresolved space between you felt wider than ever.
days turned into weeks and the space between you only grew heavier. neither of you reached out, the silence lingering like an unspoken question that you were both too afraid to answer.
you had thought that having this time to yourself would help clear your head and make you feel safe again. instead, the endless quiet only proved that the ghost of your past wasn’t something he was creating—it was something you were still carrying all on your own. missing him had become a constant, dull ache in your chest, making you realize that the walls you built to protect yourself were only keeping you trapped in your own loneliness.
the realization hit you fully when you found yourself staring at an old photo of the two of you, his bright, genuine smile a stark contrast to the hollow ache currently sitting in your chest. you had spent so much time trying to make sure history wasn't repeating itself that you hadn't noticed you were the one sabotaging your own present. it was finally time to stop letting your fear dictate your future, even if your hands were still shaking at the thought of making things right.
but you were too scared. maybe you didn’t deserve that second chance when all he did was be so nice and gentle, giving you the love you had been searching for all along.
on cue, your phone lit up with an unexpected video call notification. you slid the button to answer, clearing your throat before speaking. “jongseong, hey!”
“hey, y/n,” jongseong replied, his face appearing on the screen. he gave you a small wave, looking totally relaxed but a bit curious. “i’m only calling because a few really sad heartbreak tweets popped up on my timeline today, and i noticed you liked one of them. it just felt a little out of character for you. are you doing okay? any problems between you and jungwon?”
you froze, the heavy silence of your room suddenly feeling magnified through the speaker. your throat felt completely tight, and your mind scrambled for a safe lie, a polite excuse, or any regular answer to cover up the mess inside your head. but looking at jongseong’s kind, expectant face on the screen, the wall you had built over the past few weeks finally crumbled.
you let out a shaky breath, looking down at your lap because you couldn't bear to hold his gaze anymore.
“do you know that there are two types of people in the world?” you murmured, your voice cracking slightly as the tears threatened to spill over again. “the lesson and the one. sadly, i’m the lesson.”
“okay…” he said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned closer to the camera. “i’m not following. what do you mean by that, y/n?”
“i mean… some people only enter a person’s life to teach them how to love, how to grow, or how to be better for the next person,” you whispered, a single tear finally slipping down your cheek. “they’re just a temporary chapter. they're the lesson. and then there are the people who get to stay forever. they’re the one.”
you finally looked up at the screen, your eyes completely raw and vulnerable as you stared at him.
“his parents think i'm just a phase, jongseong. they think i'm just someone he's with until he's ready to go back to a blueprint that naturally fits his world. and the worst part is… i’m starting to think they’re right.”
you let out a tired, shaky sigh, pulling your knees up to your chest.
“you know my history, jongseong. you’ve seen firsthand how many times i’ve been left behind, and how much it took for me to piece myself back together,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a soft, exhausted whisper. “i already know exactly how it feels to be the lesson that helps a man grow up for someone else. i’ve been that girl my entire life, and i just… i don’t think i have the strength to go through that all over again with him.”
jongseong went completely quiet on the other end of the line, his expression softening as your words settled over him. he rubbed the back of his neck, looking down for a brief second as if carrying a quiet weight of his own before fixing his steady, grounded gaze back on you.
“y/n, look at me,” he said softly, his voice dropping into that deep, comforting tone. “i know your history. i know exactly how much you've been through, and i'm not going to sit here and tell you that your fears aren’t valid. but you are completely wrong about one thing.”
he leaned a little closer to the camera. “i don't know the guy personally, but i know you. and from everything you’ve ever told me about him, from the way your face lights up when you mention his name, he isn't the type to treat you like a phase. his parents don't get to decide who his 'one' is, y/n. he already chose you, so don't let their words choose his ending for him.”
you looked away from the screen, your bottom lip trembling as his words cut right through your defenses. you wanted so desperately to believe he was right, but the heavy weight in your chest made it so hard to breathe.
“but what if they’re right, jongseong?” you whispered, a fresh tear spilling over as you brought your knees closer to your chest. “it’s so easy to say he chose me now, but choosing someone gets a lot harder when the whole world is pulling you in the opposite direction. i'm just so tired of being the only one who ends up broken when the choice gets too heavy.”
“you told me once, he’s different. you said he was the first person who made you feel safe enough to lower your guard. don't take away his chance to be the one who stays just because everyone else before him left.”
you let out a shaky breath, wiping the dampness from your cheeks with the back of your hand. his words hit a little too close to home, reminding you of the girl who used to be so certain about the boy she loved.
“i did say that, didn't i?” you whispered, a small, incredibly tired smile touching your lips for a split second. you looked back up at the screen, trying to clear the thick emotion from your throat. “i'm sorry for dumping all of this on you out of nowhere. let's not talk about my mess anymore. how are things with you and karina?”
jongseong chuckled softly, the heavy atmosphere completely lifting as he leaned back in his desk chair. “speaking of the devil,” he murmured, just as the sound of a fridge door closing echoed through the speaker, followed by the soft padding of footsteps.
a second later, karina leaned into the frame, damp hair wrapped in a towel and a plate of sliced fruit in her hand. “tell her i say hi! and tell her you haven't washed the dishes from breakfast yet,” she teased, popping a piece of apple into her mouth before pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head and walking back to the living room.
jongseong rolled his eyes fondly, watching her leave before fixing his gaze back on you. “see? we’re surviving, even if we’re constantly stressed about finals and rent. our parents definitely had their doubts about us moving in together so early, but we just decided to figure it out as we go. it’s not perfect, but it’s real. you and jungwon can figure it out too, if you just give him the chance to try.”
“thanks, jongseong,” you murmured, the tight knot of anxiety in your chest finally unravelling into a sudden, desperate wave of clarity.
“anytime, buddy,” he replied with a warm, final nod.
and with that, you both ended the call.
before the fear could creep back in, you immediately grabbed a coat from the chair and shoved your feet into your crocs. you unlocked the deadbolt with trembling fingers and swung the door open, but what you didn’t expect was jungwon standing right there, catching his breath with his hair sweaty, probably from running all the way to you.
“h-hi.”
“hi.”
a breathless, fragile silence settled over the hallway. jungwon looked down, his gaze lingering on your feet tucked into your crocs, and then you looked at his messy, sweat-dampened hair. despite the heavy heartbreak that had been hovering over you both for weeks, a tiny, incredibly watery laugh slipped past your lips.
jungwon’s lips twitched into a faint, exhausted smile, though his eyes stayed completely soft and intense.
“where were you going in such a hurry?” he asked softly, his voice still a little breathless.
“i was… i was going to you,” you confessed, your voice cracking as the tears finally spilled over, blurring your vision.
jungwon’s eyes softened completely, his hand moving from your wrist to gently cup your cheek, his thumb catching the tear before it could fall. “to me? why?”
“because i’m so tired of being the girl who only exists to teach good men how to love someone else,” you choked out, your hands anchoring onto the fabric of his jacket because your knees felt weak. “i don’t want you to be my temporary chapter, jungwon. i don’t want this to be another heartbreaking lesson. i know you’re the one. i know it. and it terrifies me, but i was running to tell you that i don’t want to let you go.”
jungwon stared at you, completely frozen as his usual composure totally shattered. a glassy sheen quickly took over his sharp eyes, his bottom lip trembling just a fraction as the heavy unshed tears made him look incredibly vulnerable in the dim hallway light. he looked so profoundly undone by your confession that he couldn't even find his voice to speak.
seeing him look at you like that suddenly made a wave of intense self-consciousness rush over you.
you let out a wet, breathless laugh, instantly dropping your gaze to his chest as your cheeks flushed deep red. “oh god,” you muttered, your voice cracking as you weakly hid your face against his jacket. “i can’t believe i sound so silly saying that. it sounded so cringe, i'm sorry—”
jungwon wasted no time in closing the gap between the two of you and crashed his lips onto yours. compared to your first kiss, this one was full of pure yearning and a desperate, breathless relief that made your knees give out completely.
he kissed you until the lingering taste of your tears melted away, his hands moving up to cup your face so tightly, as if he were physically anchoring you to him. when he finally pulled back just a fraction, his forehead remained rested against yours, both of your breaths coming out in hot, uneven puffs in the quiet hallway.
“it’s not silly,” jungwon whispered fiercely, his voice raspy and thick with the tears he was trying not to spill. he blinked, a stray drop finally escaping and trailing down his flushed cheek as he looked deep into your eyes. “i ran all the way here because i felt like i was suffocating without you. i ran to tell you that i don't want to lose you. i'm not letting you go.”
you could only nod as a fresh wave of tears blurred your vision. your fingers gripping his shoulders so hard your knuckles turned white.
jungwon smiled weakly, his thumbs gently wiping away the new tears on your cheeks before leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, right at your hairline. he kept his arms securely locked around you, anchoring you against his warm chest until your breathing finally synced up with his.
“i mean it, y/n,” he murmured into your hair, his voice steadier now but still filled with that fierce determination. “no more lessons. we're figuring this out together.”
***
dear, y/n,
in this world, there are two types of people: the one and the lesson. you were the latter. but right now, you’re the first.
you spent so much time convincing yourself that you were only built to be a temporary chapter, a stepping stone for someone else's perfect blueprint. but you don't have to stay broken just to teach a good man how to love. you can be the one who gets to stay, too. and you finally found your 'the one'—the boy who ran all the way to your door in the middle of the night just to prove he was never going to let you go.
three months later.
“jungwon, if you don't turn that stove down right now, we are going to set the fire alarm off for the third time this month,” you laughed, leaning against the counter of your apartment as you watched him frantically wave a kitchen towel in front of a smoking pan.
“i have it completely under control!” he insisted, though his cheeks were flushed a soft pink and his sharp eyes were wide with adorable panic. he quickly slid the pan off the burner, letting out a dramatic sigh of relief before turning around to face you. his hair was slightly messy, a soft contrast to the structured, neat look he usually wore around his family, and he was wearing an super oversized hoodie that you were pretty sure actually belonged to you.
you walked over, entirely unable to hide the fond smile on your face as you reached up to fix a stray strand of hair falling over his forehead. “you’re supposed to be the responsible college student, remember? what happened to the planner jungwon?”
“the plan got complicated,” jungwon murmured, his tone instantly softening the second your fingers brushed against his skin. without missing a beat, his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him with that effortless, natural familiarity that had become your favorite part of every single day. “besides, i was distracted looking at you.”
“so cringe,” you teased, echoing the exact words from the night he ran to you, but your heart still did that familiar, happy flip against your ribs.
jungwon chuckled, a low, warm sound that vibrated against your chest as he leaned down, resting his forehead against yours. “i told you three months ago,” he whispered against your lips, his thumbs gently rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of your shirt. “it’s not cringe if it’s real. now kiss me before the smoke alarm actually goes off.”
you didn't miss a beat. you leaned up, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss that carried all the quiet certainty of the past three months. the heavy anxiety, the cruel comments from his parents, and the ghosts of your past heartbreaks were completely gone. there were no more lessons left to learn. there was only jungwon, holding you tight in a smoky kitchen, proving every single day that he was here to stay.
synopsis✧˖°. you've spent your whole life depending on a stuffed bear that smells like amber and musk to sleep, so when he vanishes from your jacket at a laundromat, you unravel into twelve sleepless nights, panic attacks, and a shame you can't explain. when you finally find him in the pocket of a stranger's jacket, you discover that the boy wearing your coat smells exactly like home, and maybe you've been looking for the wrong kind of comfort all along.
notes✧˖°. okay... here's my big one! im not exactly sure if i like this because it does get very angsty and serious at times, but i tried to make a long story! so.. the stuffed animal is lowk based on one i have (sue me) i did make it a little more dramatic for the plot line, but yeah! i'll say it in the authors note, but guys PLEASE send me some sort of asks i beg!! it helps me stay motivated!! i hope you guys enjoy!! also @ptolemaeiia u asked to be tagged so here! (I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOUR STUFF IS SO BOMB BRO)
many people have 'a thing'.
something that helps them feel at ease when they're down, something that distracts them from the real world, or something that they just love.
your thing was your stuffed animal, as childish as it may sound.
bear. that's what his name was!
a winnie the pooh, rattle toy stuffed animal, with a white shirt from another animal, that has faded more and more yellow as time passed.
you've had this stuffed animal for years, and it was your favorite! so much to the point where you brought it everywhere when you were a kid.
doctors office? dentist? your sisters band concert? bear was there for all of it.
now, you had many stuffed animals, but none of them really ever clicked with you like how bear did.
bear was just different. it was something about his smell.
you would hold him up to your face and inhale and be brought immediate comfort.
it smelt like home.
lately, though, you had noticed you had to press your nose harder into his fur to find the smell.
it was fading, slowly, like a photograph left in sunlight. you told yourself it was just because he was old, because you had washed him too many times, but the thought made your stomach tight.
you couldn't remember when exactly the scent had started to thin, only that now you had to inhale twice as deep to get that same hit of comfort.
you carried bear around all the time and kept him around all the time, all the way to your adulthood.
around your teenage years, you started to get embarrassed about bear.
it felt odd.. you felt immature.
everyone else around never had stuffed animals around 24/7. you'd go over to a friends house and the layout of their bed would be completely different. no stuffed animals anywhere.
it only got worse as you grew older.
people started caring less and less and less about their childhood toys, while you were still stuck.
you even tried to convince yourself at one point some random day in highschool.
"i don't need bear! i'm not even gonna sleep with him tonight" you thought to yourself.
you tried to sleep that night… keyword 'tried'
it was probably the worst sleep of your life. you couldn't sleep until 5 in the morning, and even when you did fall asleep, you'd stir yourself awake every 10 mins.
after that you gave up.
you never bothered to tell anyone about bear, but it was just a little secret you had. you needed him in order to get any sort of comfort.
cut to now, you're an adult. living a full life, with lots of friends. bear still always by your side.
one day, it was laundry day.
living in the apartment you had, you didn't own a washer or dryer, you had to go to laundromat in order to wash anything.
you stand in front of your hamper and stare at it like it's a problem to be solved.
it's overflowing. socks are spilling over the side like they're trying to escape.
you've been putting this off for eleven days now, ever since you wore your last clean pair of jeans to that party at mayas and spilled wine on them.
you look down at your jacket, hanging on the hook by the door. bear is in there. he's always in there.
you grab the hamper with both hands and kick the door open with your foot, maneuvering down the narrow hallway of your building.
the stairs creak under your weight. the third floor always feels higher when you're carrying three weeks of dirty clothes.
the laundromat is four blocks away. you walk there because the bus costs two fifty and you'd rather spend that on coffee.
the autumn air is sharp enough to make your nose run, and you burrow deeper into your jacket, your hand finding the front pocket automatically.
bear is there. you can feel the soft bulk of him through the denim. your thumb traces the edge of his shirt, that faded yellow fabric that used to be bright white.
you don't take him out. you never take him out in public anymore. but you know he's there.
the laundromat is called spin cycle, which you think is a stupid name but whatever. the bell above the door jingles when you push it open with your hip.
the smell hits you immediately. detergent and warm cotton and that particular steamy humidity that only exists in places where clothes are being dried. it smells like clean, which is different from how bear smells, but somehow related.
you set your hamper down in front of an empty washer near the back.
number fourteen. you have a preference for the back machines. less chance of someone seeing you talk to your jacket pocket.
you sort your clothes with the efficiency of someone who's done this many times. darks in one pile, lights in another. you check pockets out of habit, even though you know exactly what's in yours.
your hand hesitates on the zipper of your jacket pocket.
you could take him out. just for a second. just to make sure he's okay before you put everything in the machine.
but the door opens behind you and an older woman comes in with a rolling cart, and you drop your hand like you've been caught.
you stuff your clothes into the machine instead. jeans first, then sweaters, then the delicates bag with your underwear because you're not brave enough to wash those in public view.
you toss the detergent pod on top and shove four quarters into the slot.
the machine groans to life. water starts rushing in.
you stand there for a moment, watching your clothes disappear under the suds.
your jacket is still on. you never take it off at the laundromat. the machines run hot and the room gets warm, but you keep it zipped up to your chin. bear stays close to your heart that way.
your phone buzzes in your actual pocket.
it's a text from your roommate, sarah. she needs you to pick up her prescription while you're out. she'll pay you back. she even adds three pleading emojis.
you sigh and look at the washer. it has thirty two minutes left on the cycle.
you could wait here. sit on the orange plastic chair and scroll through your phone and try not to think about how your jacket is starting to make you sweat.
or you could be productive.
you check the pocket one more time, patting the bulge that is bear. he's there. he's fine.
you walk out into the afternoon.
the pharmacy is two blocks north. you pass a coffee shop and smell espresso and almost stop, but sarah said urgent, so you keep walking. your hand stays in your jacket pocket the whole way, fingers wrapped around bears soft body.
the prescription pickup line is four people deep. you wait. you shift your weight from foot to foot. you think about your clothes spinning in circles back at the laundromat.
when it's your turn, you give sarahs name and date of birth. the pharmacist is slow. she types with one finger. you try not to tap your foot.
finally, you get the small white bag with sarahs name printed on it. you tuck it into your purse and head back out.
on the way back to the laundromat, you stop at the corner store for a bottle of water. the clerk knows you and waves. you wave back.
you're gone for twenty three minutes total.
when you push back through the door of spin cycle, the bell jingles again. the humidity hits your face.
your washer is still running. you can hear it churning, that wet slapping sound of clothes being beaten clean.
you sit down on the orange chair to wait. you pull out your phone. you scroll through instagram for four minutes. you watch a video of a cat falling off a counter.
then you get up to check the time left on your machine.
and you realize.
your jacket is gone.
you stand there staring at the orange chair where you were just sitting, and your jacket is not there.
you left it there. you know you left it there. you always take it off when you sit, even for a second, because the heat is too much, and you draped it over the back of the chair, and now it's gone.
your heart starts beating in your throat.
you look around the laundromat like the jacket might have just fallen on the floor. like it slipped down behind the chair. like you're imagining things.
but it's not on the floor. it's not behind the chair. it's not on any of the other chairs or folded on the counter or hanging on the coat hook by the door.
someone took it.
or someone moved it.
you walk in a circle around the laundromat, checking every surface, every chair, every windowsill.
you stand in the middle of spin cycle laundromat and your washer beeps, signaling that the cycle is done, and you can't move.
your clothes are done.
your jacket is gone.
bear is gone.
you walk back to the orange chair and you sit down heavily. the plastic creaks under you. your hands are shaking so badly you have to press them between your knees to make them stop.
you try to think logically.
maybe someone moved it. maybe an employee put it somewhere. maybe it got mixed in with someone elses stuff by accident.
you get up and walk to the front counter. there's a girl there with blue hair and a nose ring, reading a paperback with a dragon on the cover. she looks up when you approach.
"hi," you say, and your voice sounds wrong. thin and shaky.
"did anyone turn in a jacket? navy blue denim? oversized?"
she shakes her head. "not that i've seen. did you check the lost and found?"
you nod. you checked. it was just a sock and a hanger.
she gives you a sympathetic look. "sometimes people move stuff if it's in their way. check the other chairs?"
you already checked. you checked everywhere.
you walk back to the orange chair and sit down again. the washer has stopped beeping now. your clothes sit in the dark behind the glass, wet and heavy and waiting.
you should get them. you should transfer them to the dryer. you should finish your laundry like a normal person.
you can't get up.
your phone buzzes. it's sarah, texting to ask if you got her prescription. you stare at the screen and your thumbs hover over the keyboard but you can't think of what to type. you can't think of anything except the empty space where your jacket should be.
you start to cry.
you didn't mean to.
you blink hard and press your palms against your eyes but the tears come anyway, hot and fast and embarrassing. you're twenty years old crying in a laundromat over a lost jacket. over a stuffed animal. over bear.
a woman folding towels nearby glances at you. you turn away and hide your face in your hands.
you stay like that for a long time.
eventually you force yourself to stand up. you wipe your face with your sleeve.
you go to the washer and pull out your wet clothes and carry them to a dryer. you put in quarters you can barely see through your tears. you start the machine.
you sit back down on the orange chair.
you don't know what to do.
you think about calling the police, but what would you say? someone stole my jacket and inside the pocket was a winnie the pooh stuffed animal and i need it to sleep?
they'd laugh. or worse, they wouldn't laugh. they'd look at you with that concerned expression that says they're wondering if you're safe to be around.
you think about going home without him.
the thought makes your chest tighten until you can't breathe.
you put your head between your knees and count backwards from one hundred. you learned that in therapy sophomore year when the panic attacks got bad. it doesn't help much now.
the dryer hums.
you sit there and you wait for your clothes to be done and you try not to think about where bear is right now.
if he's on the floor somewhere. if someone threw him away. if someone found him and is holding him and wondering why a grown woman carries a baby toy in her jacket pocket.
the shame burns hot in your throat.
but underneath it is something worse. something empty and cold. the knowledge that tonight you'll go home to your small apartment and you'll lie in your bed and you won't sleep.
you know this because you've tried to sleep without him before.
you remember junior year. the night at your grandmothers house.
you'd been so careful all evening, checking your pocket every ten minutes, feeling the reassuring lump of him against your hip. but when you got home and reached in to pull him out for bed, your hand met only empty fabric.
you'd left him on your grandmothers couch. three hours away. three days before you could go back.
that first night without him, you lay in bed with your eyes wide open and stared at the ceiling until the sun came up.
you counted sheep. you counted your breaths. you listened to every creak of the house settling, every car passing on the street outside, every beat of your own heart that seemed too loud and too fast.
you didn't sleep for one minute.
the second night was worse. your body ached with exhaustion but your mind wouldn't stop spinning. you got up and walked circles around your room at three am.
you sat on the floor and pressed your face against your knees and rocked back and forth like a child.
by the third night you were hallucinating. shadows moved in the corners of your vision. sounds came from inside your walls.
you'd tried to remember the smell exactly, sitting there in the dark at your grandmother's house, but you couldn't conjure it.
you could remember that it was warm, that it was sweet like vanilla and something else, but the specific scent eluded you. it worried you more than the sleeplessness, that your brain couldn't hold onto something so essential.
you called your grandmother at four in the morning crying so hard you couldn't make words.
you got him back on the fourth day. you slept for fourteen hours straight and woke up with his face pressed against your cheek and your pillow soaked with tears.
you can't do that again.
but you don't know how to fix this.
the dryer stops.
you sit there for five more minutes before you get up and pull out your warm clothes. you fold them mechanically. shirts first, then pants, then socks matched into pairs. you put them in your hamper.
you carry the hamper home through the darkening streets.
the autumn air bites at your cheeks. you didn't realize how late it'd gotten. the streetlights are on now, orange and humming.
you walk up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. sarah is home. she's making pasta in the kitchen and she looks up when you come in.
sarah sees the expression on your face, hers immediately becoming concerned. "are you.. okay?" she asks cautiously.
you nod and pull the white bag from your purse and hand it to her. "fine," you say. "i'm just tired."
she takes the bag but she doesn't look away from you. "you don't look fine," she says. "you look like you've been crying."
you turn away and hang your keys on the hook by the door. "i'm fine," you say again, but your voice cracks on the second word.
"hey," she says, softer now. she puts down the wooden spoon she was holding and comes over to you. "what happened? did something happen at the laundromat?"
you shake your head. you can't talk about it. if you try to explain you'll start crying again and you don't think you'll ever stop.
"i just need to lay down," you say.
sarah reaches out and touches your arm. "are you sure? you can talk to me, you know. whatever it is."
you nod and pull away gently. "i'm sure," you say. "just tired."
you go to your room and close the door.
you sit on your bed and you look at the empty jacket hook by the door.
you lie down on top of your covers still wearing your shoes.
you stare at the ceiling.
you wait.
the first night is exactly as bad as you remember.
you lie there with your eyes open and your hands clenched into fists at your sides. you try to slow your breathing. you try to relax your jaw. you try to think about nothing.
but your brain won't turn off. it keeps circling back to the same thought. bear is gone. bear is gone. bear is gone.
you get up at midnight and search your room again. under the bed. in the closet. in your laundry hamper even though you know you already checked. you go to the living room and look behind the couch cushions. you check the bathroom, the kitchen, the hallway outside your door.
you know he's not there. you knew before you looked. but you can't stop yourself from checking.
by two am you're back in bed and your heart is racing like you've been running. you press your hand against your chest and feel it thumping against your ribs.
you don't sleep.
the sun comes up and you haven't closed your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. your body feels wired and heavy at the same time. your eyes burn. your head aches in a low constant throb behind your temples.
sarah knocks on your door at eight. "i'm heading to class," she calls through the wood. "are you up?"
you don't answer. you can't make your voice work.
you hear her hesitate. "y/n?" she calls again. "you in there?"
"i'm sick," you manage. your voice sounds like gravel. "calling in sick."
there's a pause. "do you need anything?"
you close your eyes and shake your head even though she can't see you. "no," you say. "just sleep."
you hear her walk away.
you spend the day in a fog. you lie on the couch and stare at the wall. sarah comes back at four and finds you there in the same position she left you.
she sets her bag down and comes over to you. "you still haven't slept?" she asks.
you don't answer.
she sits down on the edge of the couch and puts her hand on your forehead like she's checking for a fever. "you're burning up," she says. "but you don't feel sick. what's going on?"
"just can't sleep," you whisper.
"since when?"
you close your eyes. "since i lost something."
she waits for you to say more. when you don't, she asks, "what did you lose?"
you shake your head. you can't say it out loud.
sarah sighs and stands up. "i'm making soup," she says. "you're eating something."
you don't eat. you drink half the broth she brings you and your stomach cramps around it.
you go back to your room when the sun starts to set. you lie down and you wait for the second night.
the second night is worse.
now your body knows what's coming. it starts to panic before you even get into bed. your hands shake as you brush your teeth. your stomach twists as you pull back the covers.
you lie down and your whole body is tense, waiting for the sleeplessness to start.
it doesn't disappoint.
you spend hours staring at the ceiling. you try counting backwards from one thousand. you try naming every state in alphabetical order. you try to remember the lyrics to every song you learned in elementary school.
nothing works.
your thoughts race in circles. where is he right now? is he cold? is he scared? does he think you abandoned him? the thoughts are ridiculous and you know they're ridiculous but you can't stop them.
at four am you get up and throw up in the bathroom. there's nothing in your stomach but bile. you rinse your mouth and look at yourself in the mirror. your eyes are red and swollen. your skin is gray. you look like you've been sick for weeks.
sarah finds you there. she's in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes. "you're up?" she asks, then she sees your face. "oh my god. y/n. what's happening to you?"
"nothing," you say. "go back to bed."
"you've been throwing up," she says. "and you look terrible. i'm taking you to the hospital."
"no," you say, too fast. "i'm fine. i just can't sleep."
"for two nights?" she asks. "that's not normal. something is wrong."
you lean against the sink and close your eyes. "i just need to find him," you whisper.
"find who?" sarah asks.
you shake your head. you can't say it.
sarah puts her hand on your arm. "you're scaring me," she says quietly. "please tell me what's wrong."
you open your eyes and look at her. she looks scared. you hate that you're doing this to her. but you can't explain. it's too embarrassing
"i'm sorry," you say. "i just need to find something i lost. then i'll be fine. i promise."
she stares at you for a long moment. "what did you lose?" she asks again.
you push past her and go back to your room. you close the door and lean against it and slide down to the floor.
"i'm sorry," you call through the wood. "just please let me handle this."
you hear her hesitate. then you hear her walk away.
you get back in bed.
you lie there and watch the sky outside your window turn from black to gray to pink.
you don't sleep.
by the third day you're unraveling.
you try to go to work because you need the money and you can't afford to lose another day. you stand at the coffee shop counter and you can't remember what buttons to press. you stare at the register for thirty seconds while a customer waits and you can't make your brain work.
your manager sends you home.
"are you on something?" she asks quietly in the back room. "if you need help, we can get you help."
"i'm just tired," you say. "i haven't slept."
she looks at you and her expression softens into pity. "go home," she says. "get some rest. come back when you're better."
you walk back to the laundromat. you check the lost and found box. you ask the blue haired girl if anyone has turned anything in. she recognizes you now and her sympathy has started to turn into something else, something wary.
"no," she says. "nothing."
you put up a sign on the bulletin board.
lost. navy blue denim jacket. no questions asked. reward.
you put your phone number at the bottom.
you wait.
no one calls.
the third night is the worst yet.
now you're afraid to even try to sleep. the bed feels like a battlefield. you lie down and your whole body is rigid with dread. you know what's coming. the long hours of darkness. the racing thoughts. the way your mind turns against you.
you start to cry at eleven pm and you don't stop.
you cry until your throat is raw and your eyes feel like they've been scrubbed with sandpaper. you cry until your chest hurts and you can't catch your breath.
sarah finds you at two in the morning sitting on the kitchen floor with your knees pulled to your chest and your face wet and your whole body shaking.
she sits down on the floor with you. she puts her arm around your shoulders. she doesn't ask what's wrong. she just stays there.
"i'm sorry," you whisper. "i'm so sorry."
"shh," she says. "it's okay. whatever it is, it's okay."
you lean your head against her shoulder and you cry quieter, then, exhausted and empty.
she helps you to bed. she tucks the covers around you like you're a child. she sits on the edge of the mattress and strokes your hair until your breathing slows.
"do you want to tell me now?" she asks softly.
you shake your head against the pillow. "i can't," you whisper.
she sighs. "okay," she says. "but i'm here when you're ready."
she stays until you pretend to fall asleep. then she slips out and closes the door.
you lie there with your eyes open in the dark.
you don't sleep.
the fourth day you don't get out of bed at all.
sarah brings you water. she brings you toast. she sits on the edge of your bed and tries to get you to eat.
"just a bite," she says. "please."
you eat half a slice and your stomach cramps around it.
you stare at the wall and you think about bear. you think about his soft fur. you think about his smell. you think about the way he fit in your hand just right, the perfect size to hold against your heart.
you wonder if you'll ever sleep again.
the fifth night comes.
you've been awake for so long that time has stopped making sense. hours blur together. you can't remember if you ate today. you can't remember what day it is.
you lie in bed and you stare at the ceiling and you wait for morning.
your body is screaming for rest. your eyes burn constantly. your head feels like it's full of static, white noise that never stops.
but your mind won't let you go.
it keeps you awake like a punishment. like a curse.
you start to think that maybe this is just your life now. that you lost the one thing that let you rest and now you'll never rest again. you'll spend the rest of your existence exhausted and hollow and reaching for something that isn't there.
you get up and walk to the window.
you look out at the street below, empty and dark, and you wonder if he's out there somewhere. if he's cold. if he's alone.
you press your forehead against the glass and you close your eyes.
you don't sleep.
you don't sleep on the sixth night either.
or the seventh.
by the eighth day you're a ghost. you move through your apartment like you're haunting it. you don't eat. you don't speak. sarah has stopped asking if you're okay because she knows you're not.
she just brings you water and sits with you and waits.
she doesn't ask again what you lost. she just stays with you, her presence steady and warm, until the afternoon light fades and your room grows dark.
on the ninth day, sarah knocks on your door earlier than usual.
"i'm having some people over tonight," she says through the wood. "just a few friends. dinner. nothing crazy."
you don't answer. you're staring at the ceiling and counting the cracks in the plaster. there are eleven. you've counted them a hundred times.
"it would mean a lot to me if you came out," she continues. "just for an hour. please."
you close your eyes. the thought of being around people makes your skin crawl. you're so tired. you're so empty. you don't have the energy to pretend to be normal.
but sarah has been so patient. she has brought you water and toast and sat with you in silence. she hasn't pushed you to explain. she has just been there.
you owe her this.
"okay," you say. your voice sounds like rust.
you hear her exhale. "really?" she asks. "you'll come out?"
"yeah," you say. "i'll try."
you hear her smile. you can hear it in her voice. "thank you," she says. "just an hour. that's all."
she walks away and you lie there and wonder if you can do this.
you get up at six. you haven't slept in nine days and your body feels like it's made of glass, fragile and ready to shatter.
you go to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror.
you look terrible. your eyes are sunken and red rimmed. your skin is pale and splotchy. your hair is a tangled mess.
you try to make yourself look presentable.
you splash cold water on your face until your cheeks have some color. you brush your hair and pull it back into a low ponytail. you put on makeup for the first time in over a week, covering the dark circles under your eyes with concealer that's slightly too light.
you change out of the sweatpants you've been wearing for three days and put on jeans and a sweater.
you look in the mirror again.
you still look tired. you still look hollow. but you look like a person again. not a ghost.
you take a deep breath and open your bedroom door.
the apartment smells like garlic and rosemary. sarah is cooking pasta. music plays softly from her phone, something upbeat and indie.
she turns when she hears you and her face breaks into a smile.
"you look great," she says. she means it.
"thanks," you say.
she crosses the room and hugs you. she squeezes tight and you feel tears prick your eyes but you blink them back. you've cried enough.
"seriously," she whispers. "thank you for trying."
you nod against her shoulder.
the doorbell rings at seven.
sarah pulls away and wipes her hands on her apron. "that's probably maya and leo," she says. "can you get the door?"
you walk to the door on legs that feel unsteady. you open it.
maya and leo stand there holding wine and bread. they smile when they see you.
"hey," maya says. "long time no see. sarah said you've been sick."
"yeah," you say. "stomach thing. getting better now."
they come in and you take their coats and hang them on the hook by the door.
the hook is empty where your jacket should be.
you look away.
more people arrive. sarahs friends from class. a girl named priya who brings brownies. a guy named tom who talks loudly about his internship.
you stand in the kitchen and hold a glass of wine you don't drink. you smile when people look at you. you nod when they talk. you're performing being a person and you're not sure how convincing you are.
the doorbell rings again.
"i'll get it," sarah calls from the stove.
you stay in the kitchen and listen to the door open.
"hey," you hear sarah say. "i'm so glad you could make it."
"wouldn't miss it," a voice answers. male. soft. slightly rough. deep.
you don't think anything of it until they walk into the kitchen.
sarah enters first. then a boy.
he is tall. blonde hair. he's wearing a gray hoodie under a jacket that makes you stop breathing.
your jacket.
navy blue denim. oversized. frayed hem.
your jacket.
on his body.
you stare at him and the glass in your hand starts to shake.
"y/n," sarah says, "this is riki. he's in my art history class. riki, this is my roommate y/n."
riki looks at you and smiles. his eyes are warm and dark brown and he has full lips.
"hey," he says. "nice to meet you."
you force yourself to smile. "nice to meet you too."
you don't say anything about the jacket. your throat closed up. your heart starts hammering against your ribs.
when riki shrugged off the jacket to hang it by the door, you noticed he folded it carefully, smoothing the collar with his palm before stepping away. not the careless toss most people gave their coats, but something deliberate, almost tender.
you watch him from the corner of your eye all night. you watch him talk to maya about some movie. you watch him help sarah carry plates to the table. you watch the way the jacket moves on his shoulders, the way the front pocket bulges slightly with nothing in it now.
bear is not there.
you feel sick.
but you don't confront him. you can't. not in front of everyone. not when you're barely holding yourself together.
you make it through dinner. you laugh at the right times. you push food around your plate and pretend to eat.
when riki leaves, he shrugs into the jacket and zips it up and you watch him walk out the door and you feel like you're losing bear all over again.
but now you know who has him.
or at least who has your jacket.
you go to bed that night and you don't sleep. but now there's something else mixed with the exhaustion. hope.
the next week, sarah has people over again.
"rikis coming," she mentions casually while chopping vegetables. "he asked about you. said you seemed nice."
you freeze. "oh?"
"yeah. he's really into thrifting. you should see his apartment. it's like a vintage store exploded."
you nod and try to act normal.
when the doorbell rings, your stomach flips.
riki walks in wearing your jacket again. this time with a different hoodie underneath. he smiles when he sees you.
he looked at you differently this time, his eyes lingering on your face like he was looking for something.
"sarah said you've been sick," he said, and there was a note of suspicion in it, or confusion. "yeah," you said. "stomach thing." he nodded, but his brow stayed furrowed, like he knew you were lying but couldn't figure out about what.
he hangs the jacket on the coat rack by the door and you have to stop yourself from staring at it.
all night, your eyes drift to that jacket. you wonder if bear is still in the pocket. you wonder if he took bear out. you wonder where bear is now.
you don't sleep that night either. but you spend less time crying and more time thinking.
riki comes over again three days later. sarah invites him for movie night. he brings popcorn and wears your jacket again.
this time you sit next to him on the couch. you can smell the jacket from here. you can smell the musk, amber, and something warm.
it smells like bear.
it smells like home.
your eyes start to close during the movie. just for a second. the scent is so familiar. so comforting.
you jerk awake and riki is looking at you.
"you okay?" he whispers.
"yeah," you say. "just tired."
he nods and looks back at the screen. but after a minute, he shifts slightly and the jacket sleeve brushes against your arm.
you don't pull away.
the fourth time he comes over, you're ready.
sarah is in the kitchen making tea. the others haven't arrived yet. it's just you and riki in the living room.
he's wearing your jacket again. he wears it every time. it must be his favorite now.
you sit down next to him on the couch and your hands are sweating and your heart is racing but you have to ask.
"can i ask you something?" you say.
he looks at you. "yeah. of course."
"that jacket," you say. "where did you get it?"
riki looks down at himself. then back at you. "thrift store," he says. "downtown. why?"
you take a breath. "i think it might be mine," you say. "i lost a jacket just like that at the laundromat on fourth."
rikis eyes widen. "oh," he says. "oh wow. i'm sorry. i didn't know."
"it's okay," you say. "you didn't know. but... there was something in the pocket. when i lost it. something important."
riki stares at you. "something important?" he repeats.
"a stuffed animal," you say. your voice cracks. "a bear. he was in the front pocket. did you... did you find anything like that? when you bought the jacket?"
riki is quiet for a long moment, his brow furrows.
"there was something," he says slowly. "when i got home and checked the pockets. a bear. yeah. i remember."
your whole body goes weak. "you have him?"
riki looks at you. "i have him at my apartment," he says. "i didn't know what to do with him. i kept meaning to bring him back to the thrift store but i kept forgetting. i'm sorry. i should have turned him in."
you're crying. you can't help it. tears are streaming down your face and you don't care.
"can i have him?" you whisper. "please? he... he's really important to me."
riki stares at you. he looks confused but not judgmental. just curious. concerned.
"of course," he says. "i'm so sorry. i didn't realize. i can go get him right now. my apartment is only ten minutes away."
you shake your head. "no," you say. "you don't have to. just... next time you come over. please. bring him."
"i will," riki says. "i promise. tomorrow. i'll bring him tomorrow."
you nod and wipe your face. "thank you," you say. "thank you so much."
sarah comes out of the kitchen with two mugs. she sees your face and stops.
"...everything okay?" she asks.
"yeah," riki says before you can answer. "we were just talking about the jacket. turns out i accidentally bought y/ns lost jacket."
sarah looks between you two. "seriously?"
"yeah," you say. "small world."
sarah sits down and the conversation moves on. but riki keeps looking at you. not with pity. with something else. something gentle.
the next day, he texts sarah that he's running late but he'll be there soon.
you sit on the couch and wait. you haven't slept in twelve days now. you're beyond exhausted. you're running on fumes and hope.
the doorbell rings.
you answer it.
riki stands there holding a small plastic bag. inside is bear.
you make a sound. a sob. you reach out and take the bag with both hands.
"i'm sorry i kept him so long," riki says. "i really didn't know."
you open the bag and pull bear out and press him against your face.
but something was wrong. underneath the familiar notes of amber and musk, there was something else, something chemical and sharp. the thrift store, maybe, or someone else's detergent.
you pressed harder, trying to find the original smell, the one that had lived in his fur for years, but it was muffled, distant, like trying to hear a song through a wall.
but underneath bears familiar scent, there is something else. something that smells like musk and amber and warmth.
you look up at riki.
"you smell like him," you say.
riki blinks. "what?"
"like bear," you say. "like home."
riki stares at you. then he smiles slightly. "thats a weird thing to say," he says.
"i know," you say. "im sorry. i just... i havent slept in twelve days. and you smell like sleep. you smell like the only thing that lets me sleep."
riki steps closer. he looks at your face. at your red eyes and your pale skin.
"twelve days?" he asks quietly.
"not since i lost him," you say.
he is quiet for a moment. then he says, ""why do i smell like him?" he asks. "like the bear?"
you look at him. really look at him. at his warm eyes and his messy hair.
"i dont know, maybe its the jacket?" you say. "but you do. you smell exactly like him. like amber and musk."
riki smiles. "amber and musk," he repeats. "thats funny."
"why?"
"because thats what my soap smells like," he says. "my grandmother makes it. she sends me bars every month."
you stare at him.
"amber and musk," you whisper.
"yeah," he says. "weird coincidence, right?"
you look down at bear. at his faded white shirt.
riki is quiet. then he says, "so i smell like your childhood."
you look up at him. "yeah," you say. "you do."
he smiles again. this time it reaches his eyes. "thats not a bad thing to smell like," he says.
that night you sleep for fourteen hours straight.
you woke up once at 3 am, reaching for bear automatically. you pressed your face to his stomach and inhaled, but the sleep did not come back as fast as it used to.
the scent was there, but faint, like the last bit of perfume on a shirt. you had to bury your whole face in his fur to find it, and even then, it slipped away faster than it used to.
you wake up with bear pressed against your face and your pillow soaked with tears that you do not remember crying.
the sun is streaming through your window at an angle that suggests it is late afternoon. you check your phone. 3:47 pm.
you've slept through your alarm. through sarah leaving for class. through the morning and into the afternoon.
you don't care.
you bury your face in bears fur and inhale. amber and musk. home.
but underneath that familiar scent, you catch something else. something that makes your chest tighten with a different kind of comfort.
riki.
he smells like this too.
you lie there for another hour, just breathing. just existing in the softness of finally being able to rest.
when you finally get up, you feel like a person again. your eyes are still heavy but they do not burn anymore. your head feels clear for the first time in weeks.
sarah is in the living room when you emerge. she looks up from her laptop and her face breaks into a smile.
"you slept," she says. it is not a question.
"yeah," you say. your voice is rough but steady. "i slept."
she stands up and hugs you. she smells like lavender shampoo and coffee.
"im so glad," she whispers.
you hug her back and you realize you have not told her yet. you haven't explained about riki and the jacket and the soap that smells like your childhood.
"theres something i should tell you," you say.
she pulls back and looks at you. "about the bear?"
"yeah," you say. "and other things."
you sit down on the couch and she sits next to you and you tell her everything. about bear. about the laundromat. about the insomnia. about riki buying your jacket. about the amber and musk.
when you finish, sarah is quiet for a long moment.
"thats why you couldnt sleep," she says finally. "thats what you lost."
"yeah," you say.
"and riki... riki smells like the bear."
"his soap," you say. "his grandmother makes it."
sarah stares at you. then she laughs. not a mean laugh. a disbelieving laugh.
"thats insane," she says. "thats actually insane."
"i know," you say.
she shakes her head. "im glad you told me," she says. "i was so worried. i thought you were having a breakdown."
"i kind of was," you admit.
she reaches out and takes your hand. "next time," she says, "just tell me. even if it sounds crazy. especially if it sounds crazy."
"okay," you say.
she squeezes your hand. "and riki... hes a good guy. he was really worried about you too. after he saw you that night. he texted me asking if you were okay."
your stomach does something soft and warm. "he did?"
"yeah," she says. "he seemed really concerned. more than just polite concerned. like actually worried."
you look down at bear, who you are still holding.
there's a pause before sarah speaks again.
"..does he still smell like it? riki? does he still smell like... home?"
you think about yesterday. about standing in the doorway with riki in front of you. about how even with bear in your hands, you had wanted to lean closer to him. to breathe him in.
"yeah," you say quietly. "he does."
sarah smiles. "interesting," she says.
three days later, riki texts you.
you're surprised when your phone buzzes with an unknown number and a message
hey its riki. got your number from sarah. hope thats okay.
you stare at the screen for a full minute before you answer.
yeah of course. hi.
he texts back immediately.
hey. i was wondering if you wanted to grab coffee sometime. or if thats weird. since i technically stole your jacket and your bear.
you smile.
It wasn't weird until you said that.
his reply comes with a laughing emoji.
fair. but seriously. coffee?
sure, you type. when?
how about saturday?
saturday works.
you put your phone down and you feel something flutter in your chest. it is not anxiety. it is something lighter.
saturday comes and you meet him at a coffee shop downtown. not the one by the laundromat. a different one. quieter. with velvet chairs and exposed brick walls.
he is already there when you arrive. he stands up when he sees you and waves. he's wearing a different jacket today. a brown corduroy one. but you can still smell it when you get close. amber and musk. drifting from his skin.
you order a latte. he gets an americano. you sit at a small table by the window.
you learned he was gentle in small ways. when the barista called out your name wrong
riki didn't laugh or correct her loudly. he simply took your cup when it came out and said, "here you go, y/n" handing it to you with your actual name, soft and private, like it belonged only between you.
he stirred his coffee exactly three times, always clockwise.
"my mom used to say it made the sugar happier," he explained when he caught you watching, cheeks pinking. "stupid, I know." you thought it wasn't stupid at all.
"so," he says. "how are you sleeping?"
it's such a direct question. such an intimate question from someone who is practically a stranger.
"better," you say. "since you brought bear back."
"good," he says. "im glad."
he tells you about his classes. about his grandmother who makes the soap. about how he grew up in a small town upstate and moved to the city for school.
you tell him about your job at the coffee shop. about sarah being your roommate for two years. about how you’re studying graphic design online.
the conversation flows easier than you expected. he asks questions and actually listens to the answers. he remembers details. he laughs at your jokes.
then he set his cup down and looked at you seriously. "can i be honest?" he asked.
you nodded, stomach tight. "when i found that bear in the jacket pocket, i thought about throwing it away," he said. "i thought it was trash, or like, a weird mistake. and then when you asked about it, i thought maybe you were... i don’t know.. unstable." he said the word carefully.
"im telling you this because i want you to know that im trying to understand. but i don’t totally get it yet. is that okay?" you felt tears prick your eyes, but they were relief tears, or something close.
"that is okay," you said. "i don’t totally get it either."
when you finish your coffee, he walks you home. it is only six blocks but it takes twenty minutes because you keep stopping to look at things. a street performer playing violin. a cat in a window. a mural that is half finished.
he points things out to you. things you would not have noticed. the way the light hits a particular building at this time of day. the sound of a bird that should not be in the city.
"youre observant," you say.
"i like paying attention," he says.
at your door, he stops. "this was nice," he says. "we should do it again."
"yeah," you say. "id like that."
he smiles. "ill text you."
he does. the next day. and the day after that.
he starts coming over to your apartment more often. not just when sarah invites him. he texts you first. asks if you’re home. asks if you want to hang out.
the first time he shows up unannounced, you’re in your pajamas at two in the afternoon on a sunday. you open the door and he is standing there with a bag of bagels.
"sarah said you like everything bagels," he says. "and shes not here but i thought... maybe you'd want to share them."
you stare at him. "im in my pajamas," you say.
"i dont care," he says. "im wearing sweatpants."
he is. gray ones. with paint stains on the knee.
you let him in.
you eat bagels on the couch and watch a documentary about octopuses. he sits close enough that you can smell him. amber and musk. it mixes with the smell of your apartment. your candles. your shampoo. it starts to feel like he belongs here.
after that, he comes over all the time.
sometimes he brings food. sometimes he brings movies. sometimes he just brings himself and his presence.
you start to notice things about him. the way he runs his hand through his hair when he is thinking. the way he hums under his breath when he is focused on something. the way he always asks if you’re sleeping okay.
"and how is bear?" he asked casually, stirring his coffee. you looked at him, surprised.
"you never talk about him anymore," he said. "you used to carry him everywhere, secretly. now i never see him." you realized he was right. bear sat on your pillow now, untouched most days.
"his smell is fading," you admitted. "i think... i think he's getting too old." riki nodded, not judgmental, just observing.
"that must be scary," he said. "losing your safety net."
you nodded, throat tight. "but you’ve been sleeping anyway," he said. "without him, sometimes. i notice." you hadn’t realized he had noticed, or that you had been doing it. "yeah," you said. "i guess i have."
bear is back in his place on your pillow. but sometimes, when riki is over late and the three of you’re watching movies, you find yourself getting sleepy on the couch. your head drifting toward him. your body relaxing in a way that usually only happens with bear in your arms.
one night, sarah falls asleep first. she is in the armchair, snoring softly, her phone still in her hand.
riki looks at you. "shes out," he whispers.
"yeah," you whisper back.
you’re sitting close on the couch. closer than you were at the beginning of the movie. your thighs almost touching.
"does it bother you?" he asks. "that i smell like... like your thing? like your comfort thing?"
you look at him. his face is serious. his eyes are soft.
"no," you say honestly. "it doesn't bother me."
"does it help?" he asks. "when im around. does it actually help you feel better?"
you think about it. about the way your shoulders drop when he walks in the room. about the way your breathing slows when he sits next to you.
"yeah," you say. "it does."
he smiles. it is a small smile. private. just for you.
"good," he says. "im glad."
he reaches out and takes your hand. his fingers are warm. his palm is slightly rough.
you let him hold your hand until the movie ends.
after that, things shift.
he touches you more. casual touches. his hand on your shoulder when he walks past. his fingers brushing yours when he hands you something. his thigh pressed against yours when you sit together.
but one night, when you had leaned into him particularly hard, burying your face in his neck without thinking, he pulled back.
"hey," he said gently. "can you tell me when you’re doing that because you want to be close to me, versus when you just need the smell? i want to be here for you, but i also want to know if i am just... a pillow to you. or if im a person."
you froze, mortified. "you’re a person," you said quickly. "im sorry. i didn’t realize i was doing that." he softened, but his eyes were serious. "just check in with me," he said. "that is all i ask."
you start to need him there. not just for the scent. for him.
you text him when you’re having a bad day. he comes over. he doesn’t ask questions. he just sits with you. lets you lean against him.
one night, three months after he returned bear to you, you have a nightmare.
you wake up gasping. your heart is racing. the dream is already fading but the fear remains. you reach for bear and clutch him tight but the comfort is not coming. your body is still in panic mode. your mind is still spinning.
you lie there for an hour. two hours. staring at the ceiling.
you held him to your face until your nose hurt from pressing. you inhaled until you were dizzy. but the smell was gone, or nearly gone, replaced by something stale and empty. just cotton.
just old fabric. the magic had evaporated somewhere between the laundromat and riki's apartment, or maybe it had been dying for months and you had been too dependent to notice.
bear is not working.
you hold him to your face and inhale. amber and musk. but it is not reaching the place inside you that needs soothing. it is like the scent has lost its power. or your ability to receive it has broken.
you get up and walk to the kitchen. you get a glass of water. you stand in the dark and try to slow your breathing.
it does not work.
you go back to bed. you try again. you hold bear and you close your eyes and you will yourself to sleep.
nothing.
the sun comes up and you have not slept. your eyes burn. your head aches.
sarah finds you in the kitchen making coffee that you do not plan to drink. just something to do with your hands.
"you look tired," she says.
"didnt sleep," you say.
"bear not working?"
you shake your head. "not tonight."
she frowns. "thats weird."
"yeah," you say.
you go to work. you come home. you try again the second night.
the same thing happens.
you lie in bed with bear pressed against your heart and you cannot find the switch that lets you turn off. your mind will not stop. your body will not relax.
you get up at three am and sit on the floor. you press your forehead against your knees.
you do not understand. bear is here. bear is back. why is he not working?
the third night, you do not even try to sleep. you sit on the couch with all the lights on and you watch tv with the volume low. infomercials. cooking shows. anything to fill the silence.
riki texts you at midnight.
you up?
yeah, you reply.
can i come over?
you stare at the message. you don't want him to see you like this. exhausted. unraveling. but you need him. you need to know if it is just bear that is broken, or if you are broken.
please
you text back.
he is there in fifteen minutes. he is wearing a hoodie and his hair is messy like he rolled out of bed.
"couldnt sleep?" he asks when you open the door.
"no," you say. "three nights now."
he steps inside and closes the door behind him. he looks at you. really looks at you. at your red eyes and your shaking hands.
"bear not helping?" he asks quietly.
"no," you say. your voice breaks. "i dont know whats wrong with me."
"hey," he says. he steps closer. he puts his hands on your shoulders. "nothing is wrong with you."
"then why cant i sleep?" you ask. "i have him back. i have everything back. why isnt it working?"
he pulls you into a hug. you bury your face in his neck and inhale.
amber and musk.
and something else. something that is just him. skin and warmth and something clean underneath.
you breathe him in and you feel your shoulders drop. just slightly. just enough.
"do you want to try something?" he asks against your hair.
"what?"
"come to my place," he says. "tonight. just to sleep. my bed is bigger than yours. and... and maybe it will help. being somewhere different. with me there."
you pull back and look at him. "you want me to sleep at your house?"
"just to try," he says. "if it doesnt work, we can figure something else out. but... i want to help. and this is the only thing i know to offer."
you think about it. about going to his apartment. about sleeping in his space. about waking up with his scent all around you instead of just on bear.
"okay," you say.
his place is ten minutes away. you pack a bag with your toothbrush and a change of clothes and bear. you follow him in an uber because you’re too tired to walk.
the uber ride was too bright, the streetlights strobing across your tired vision in harsh yellow flashes.
you sat pressed against the door, your bag clutched to your chest, bear stuffed somewhere in the top where you could feel his soft bulk against your ribs.
riki sat in the middle seat, he'd insisted, saying he didn't mind, so he was close enough that every time the car turned, his knee bumped yours, warm and solid through the denim.
"almost there," he said, and his voice was pitched low, aware that loud noises felt like physical blows to your sleepless brain.
you nodded, not trusting your voice.
three nights without sleep had turned you into something raw and humming, a live wire dressed in sweatpants. your hands wouldn't stop shaking. you'd taken to pressing them between your thighs to still them, but then they'd start again the moment you released the pressure.
riki noticed. of course he did. he reached over and covered your closest hand with his own, pressing down gently. his palm was warm, slightly calloused, he'd mentioned once that he worked at a pottery studio on weekends, and now you could feel the evidence, the roughness of clay and stone against your skin.
"count the streetlights with me," he said.
"what?"
"count them. out loud. one, two, three. just until we get there."
"riki, i'm not a child,"
"i know," he said, and there was no pity in it, only steadiness. "but your brain is loud right now, isn't it? give it something else to say."
so you did. your voice came out rasped, broken, but he nodded along with each number, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of your hand, and by the time you reached seventeen, you realized you'd stopped shaking.
his apartment building was narrow, sandwiched between a dry cleaner and a closed bakery.
the stairs creaked, old wood, old building, but he went slowly, turning every few steps to make sure you were still following, still there.
at the top, he unlocked three separate locks, the ritual of someone who valued the boundary of inside versus outside.
"welcome to my chaos," he said, pushing the door open.
it wasn't chaos. it was curated warmth.
the living room was small, dominated by a couch that looked soft from across the room, draped with a blanket that had been knitted in uneven rows, homemade, you thought. books stacked on the floor, not haphazardly but in towers, organized by color.
plants in every window, their leaves touching the glass, reaching for moonlight.
but it was the smell that made your knees weak.
amber and musk, yes, but layered with coffee grounds and old paper and the green, growing scent of the plants.
it smelled like a forest floor in a library. it smelled like him, amplified, concentrated, wrapped around you like a physical thing.
"you okay?" he asked, taking your bag and setting it by the door.
"yeah," you breathed. "it smells like..."
"like what?"
you shook your head, unable to explain that it smelled like the concept of sanctuary.
he showed you the bathroom first, clean, white tiles, a towel hung ready for you that was fluffier than anything you owned. then the kitchen, small but organized, a kettle on the stove. then the bedroom.
you hesitated at the threshold.
it was simple.
a queen bed with gray sheets that looked like clouds, a nightstand with a lamp that had a warm, low-wattage bulb already glowing.
more books. a window with curtains that looked thick enough to block out the sun. on the dresser, a small dish with loose change and a single, smooth stone.
"the bed is new," he said suddenly, and you turned to look at him.
he was standing in the doorway, giving you space, his hands in his pockets.
"i bought it last month. the old one was a twin from my childhood. i kept it too long. this one..." he gestured vaguely. "i wanted something that felt like a real place to rest. for when i was ready to rest."
you understood, then, that he was offering you not just his space, but something he'd built for himself. something he was still learning to use.
"i should change," you said, your voice small.
he nodded and pulled a t-shirt from his dresser, soft, worn gray, the collar stretched from use. "for sleeping," he said, handing it over. "it'll smell like me. if that helps."
you took it and went to the bathroom. changed out of your clothes, which felt dirty with exhaustion and anxiety, and pulled his shirt over your head.
it fell to mid-thigh, huge on you, and when you inhaled, it was like burying your face in his neck. you emerged with your own clothes folded in your hands, feeling vulnerable, exposed, but also wrapped in something that felt like safety.
he was in the bedroom, having changed into sweatpants and a thin white t-shirt. he'd turned down the lamp so the room glowed amber, matching the scent. he'd also, you noticed, placed bear on the pillow on the left side of the bed, propped up like he was waiting for you.
"i wasn't sure which side you preferred," riki said, gesturing to the bed. "i sleep on the right, usually, but i can move,"
"left is good," you said. "i sleep on the left."
"okay." he pulled back the covers. "do you need... i mean, is there anything? water? the window open or closed? i have a white noise app on my phone if the street is too loud."
you stood there, suddenly overwhelmed by his care, by the specificity of it. tears pricked your eyes, hot and embarrassing.
"i don't know," you whispered. "i don't know what i need. i've never... i've never done this. slept next to someone. not since i was small."
he nodded like this made perfect sense. "then we'll figure it out together," he said. "come here."
you climbed into the bed. it was firm but giving, the sheets cool against your overheated skin.
you pulled bear into your arms, clutching him tight, but you knew already that he wasn't enough tonight. the magic was thin, worn away by time and washing machines.
riki climbed in on the other side, keeping space between you. respectful. he lay on his back, his hands folded on his stomach, staring at the ceiling.
"tell me about the pottery," you said suddenly. you needed to hear his voice. needed something to follow into the dark.
"what about it?"
"anything. just... talk."
he did. his voice was soft, rhythmic, telling you about the wheel, about the way clay felt when it centered properly, smooth, responsive, like it wanted to become something.
he told you about the first mug he made that didn't leak, the first bowl that was actually round. he told you about his grandmother's soap, how she made it in her kitchen with lye and oils, how she'd send him bars wrapped in wax paper with little notes about the weather back home.
as he talked, you turned on your side to face him.
the lamp was still on, casting his profile in gold. you watched his mouth move, the way his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, the way his hands gestured slightly even though they were resting on his stomach.
"you're staring," he said, not looking at you, but smiling.
"sorry."
"don't be. i like it." he turned his head. his eyes were dark, soft.
there was a pause, the two of you just staring at each other.
"can i hold your hand?" riki spoke cautiously
the question was so gentle, so permission-seeking, that your chest ached. you nodded.
he reached across the space between you, still respectable, still careful, and found your hand where it clutched bear.
he didn't try to move the stuffed animal. he simply laced his fingers through yours, his palm warm and dry against your clammy skin.
"is this okay?" he asked.
"yeah," you whispered.
"and this?" he shifted, moving closer, slowly, giving you time to pull away. he settled on his side too, facing you, so that your knees were almost touching, so that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
close enough that the amber and musk wrapped around you like a blanket.
"yeah," you said again.
he reached out with his other hand, the one not holding yours, and touched your hair. just the ends, where it lay on the pillow.
"your hair is pretty," he said, and it was such a simple observation, delivered without expectation, that you felt something inside you crack open, something that had been clenched tight for years.
"riki?"
"mm?"
"will you... will you tell me if i'm too much? if this is too weird? i don't want to be a burden."
his hand stopped playing with your hair. he looked serious, intent.
"you could never be too much," he said. "and you're not a burden. you're..." he paused, searching.
"you're the person i want to give my best self to. the careful self. i haven't... i haven't wanted to be that person for anyone in a long time. it feels good. it feels like remembering."
you felt tears spill over, tracking down your temple into the pillow.
"i'm scared," you admitted. "i'm scared i won't sleep and i'll waste your night and you'll regret letting me come here."
"hey," he said, and his voice was firmer now, but still soft. still safe. he released your hand and reached up to wipe your tears with his thumb, a slow, careful stroke. "look at me."
you did.
"you're safe here," he said.
"whether you sleep or not. whether you sleep for five minutes or five hours or not at all. you are safe. i'm here. i am not going anywhere. i will be here when the sun comes up, and i'll make you coffee, and we will figure it out. okay? there's no failing here. there is only you, resting, however you can."
you nodded, sniffling, feeling foolish and cared for in equal measure.
he settled back down, but he didn't retreat.
he stayed close, close enough that you could feel his breath on your forehead.
he took your hand again, and with his other hand, he began to stroke your hair, slow and rhythmic, from temple to the nape of your neck, over and over.
"close your eyes," he whispered.
you did. the darkness was immediate but not frightening. his hand in your hair was anchoring.
his breathing was steady, a metronome.
time became liquid. you didn't know if minutes passed or hours.
you drifted in a half-state, aware of his presence, of the softness of the bed, of bear clutched against your chest, but also of riki's hand, still stroking, still present.
at some point, you realized you were crying again, but silently, tears leaking from closed eyes.
"hey," riki whispered, stopping his hand. "what's wrong?"
"nothing," you whispered back.
"i'm just... i'm relieved. i'm so relieved. i didn't know i could feel like this. safe, with someone else."
he made a small sound, something wounded and tender, and then he moved.
he shifted closer, closing the last few inches of space, and carefully, so carefully, he wrapped his arm around your waist. he didn't pull you against him, he asked with his body, and you answered by curling into him, tucking your head under his chin, pressing your face to the hollow of his throat where the scent was strongest.
his arm tightened, just enough. you could hear his heartbeat, steady and slow.
you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. you held bear between you, a soft barrier, but also a bridge.
"sleep," riki whispered into your hair. "i've got you. just sleep."
and because he was there, because the smell of home surrounded you, because his hand had resumed its slow stroke down your back, you did.
it wasn't immediate.
your mind still skittered, still tried to panic, still reached for the familiar spiral of thoughts. but every time it did, riki was there.
he hummed sometimes, wordless melodies that vibrated in his chest against your cheek.
he adjusted his arm when your shoulder twitched. he breathed slow and deep, and eventually, your breathing matched his.
you fell asleep to the sound of his heart, to the smell of amber and musk, to the feeling of being held like something precious.
when you woke, it was to golden afternoon light and the sound of rain against the window.
you were still curled against him, but sometime in the night, you'd shifted so that your leg was thrown over his, possessive and intimate.
bear had fallen to the side, nestled between your pillows, no longer needed as a shield.
riki was awake. you could tell by the way his chest moved differently, by the way his hand, still on your back, was tracing patterns now, letters maybe, or just shapes.
"hey," he said, his voice morning-rough.
"hey," you mumbled, not moving. not wanting to break the spell.
"you slept," he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
"yeah," you said, and then, because you needed him to know, "i slept because you were here. not just the smell. you."
he was quiet for a moment. then he pressed a kiss to your forehead, soft and lingering. "i know," he said. "i felt it. when you let go. i felt you decide to trust me."
you looked up at him. his eyes were soft, crinkled at the corners, his hair a mess from sleep. he looked beautiful.
"thank you," you said.
"thank you," he replied, "for letting me be the one."
you stayed there, wrapped in his arms, listening to the rain, breathing him in, knowing that you'd found something better than a childhood toy.
you'd found a person who smelled like home, who felt like safety, who would hold you through the dark until the light came back.
and for the first time in years, you weren't afraid of the night. because you knew where you'd be when it came.
⋆˚✿˖°
an✧˖°. i really hope you guys enjoyed this! i know it got a bit serious, but i needed to show the importance of bear. reblogs are ALWAYS welcome!! please any feedback is greatly appreciated :) also, PLEASE send me asks if you have anything you want to see me write, I BEGGG. i need inspiration in order to write something, or i wont be motivated!!!
IN WHICH ─── Heeseung teaches you everything that your cheating boyfriend couldn’t. He’s been waiting for the day you would realize that he could do better and much more than his best friend.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smut (MDNI), porn with a bit of plot
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : switch!heeseung, switch!reader, mention of alcohol, smoking, swearing, cheating, manhandling, heeseung is a gentleman despite his attitude, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, praising, light degradation, oral sex (f. receiving), light edging, orgasm denial, use of nickname : baby, my pretty girl
𝐰𝐜 : 7.9k {7.977}
❕# pheeew I speed run that shii. I goon to the pic on top every night—WHO TFFFFF SAID THAAAT????? Guys I need this man to put me in my place like RIGHT NOW. This song represents him so well. Ugh he’s mister dadaman fr
INSPIRED BY : What You Need - The Weeknd
(+ Slow It Down - Ty Dolla $ign)
What could be worse than going to the restaurant with your boyfriend a week after you found out that he’s been cheating on you? Oh right, you don’t know. Ethan orders for himself without asking what you're having first, catches himself halfway through, and asks you anyway. You already know what you want because you always know what you want here.
His phone sits face up next to his water glass. It lights up twice in the first ten minutes. Both times he glances down, thumb hovering, before setting it back exactly where it was. "Sorry," he says, not looking up from the screen the third time. "Work thing."
You nod like that made sense. You've heard about Heeseung's terrible taste in restaurants, about his coworker’s dog, about traffic on the way here ; three separate stories he's started and abandoned mid-sentence because his attention keeps sliding sideways toward that phone.
"You could put it away," you say, tired enough that it comes out flat.
"I know. I will." He actually doesn't.
The waiter brings your food and Ethan eats fast, he’s already somewhere else in his mind. You ask about his sister's move to Daegu and get half an answer before his phone buzzes again and he actually picks it up this time, thumb moving across the screen, brow furrowed like the message requires real concentration.
You watch him read it. You watch his jaw do a small tightening, and you already know before he opens his mouth. "I have to go in," he says. "They need someone to cover a shift. I'm really sorry, I know we just got here."
Work doesn't call people in at 9:47 at night for office emergencies. You've known things like this for months now, small inconsistencies that don't line up if you actually stack them next to each other, which is why you stopped stacking them.
"Now?" you ask anyway, knowing how it will end up.
"I wouldn't if I didn't have to." He's already reaching for his wallet, already half out of his seat. "I'll make it up to you. Promise."
You tell him it's fine and to go, that you'll finish eating and head home. He kisses the top of your head, distracted, already checking his phone again as he walks toward the door, and you sit there with a plate you've lost interest in and a boyfriend-shaped absence across the table.
Your phone buzzes. Heeseung.
Heeseung [9:54 PM]
you good?
saw ethan's location just switched to "downtown" lol at 9pm
You stare at the message for a second too long before you type back.
Y/N [9:54 PM]
he had a work thing apparently
Heeseung [9:55 PM]
mhm. sure he did
You almost put the phone down.
Y/N [9:55 PM]
please don’t start
Heeseung [9:57 PM]
wasn't gonna say anything. i'm very good at not saying things
Y/N [9:57 PM]
you're the worst at not saying things btw
Heeseung [9:58 PM]
rude.
i've been holding back SO much tonight and this is the thanks i get
You find yourself smiling at your phone, alone at a table for two, food going cold in front of you. Even though you couldn’t care less.
The waiter comes by to clear Ethan's plate and asks if you need anything else, and you're halfway through saying no when your phone buzzes again.
Heeseung [10:05 PM]
where are you?
sending someone to get you before you sit there being sad and pathetic
Y/N [10:05 PM]
wdym I’m not sad and pathetic
Heeseung [10:06 PM]
you're eating alone at a restaurant your boyfriend just ditched. what else could it be?
address please.
You give him the name of the place mostly because arguing about whether you're pathetic or not would take more energy than you have left right now. Fifteen minutes later Heeseung walks in wearing a jacket you’ve seen plenty of times, scanning the room until he finds you, and drops into the seat across from you like he's been there the whole time.
"You didn't have to come, you know." you state.
"I know that very well. I wanted to see you sad and pathetic in person." He picks up the menu even though you're clearly done eating, flips through it without really looking. "Also I was bored."
"Comforting."
"I try." He waves the waiter over before you can stop him, orders a drink for himself, and when the bill comes a few minutes later he reaches over and takes it before you can even move your hand toward it.
"Heeseung."
"Yeah?"
"Give me that."
"No." He's already pulling out his card, not even glancing at the total.
"I can pay for my own food."
"Never said you couldn't." He hands the card to the waiter without looking at you, and something about how easy it is for him : he acts like it costs him nothing and like it’s something he has to do but does it naturally. The inside of your stomach is tingling and obviously not because of the food you had earlier.
"I'm being serious, I don't need you to—"
"I know you don't need me to." He lifts his gaze and looks at you with less joking in it than a second ago. "I want to. Learn how it’s not the same."
"That's not the point."
"What's the point, then?"
You freezes, not an answer or a talk back could reach your mind, and he grins like he's won something.
"Aw, look at that," he says. "I missed that face."
"I fucking hate you."
"You don't. You're just annoyed you can't win an argument about who gets to pay for your dinner, which, by the way, is a very weird thing to be stubborn about."
"It's called having self-respect."
"It's called being difficult for no reason, but sure, we can call it self-respect if that makes you feel better." The card comes back and he signs without checking the receipt, tucks it away, and stands up casually. "Come on. I'm parked badly and I will get towed."
"You fucking asshole."
"You keep saying that like it's news." He holds his hand out, not really an offer so much as an assumption you'll take it, and you do.
He gets in to start the car, and has a cigarette lit before you've even got your seatbelt on. The window cracks an inch, cold air cutting through the smoke smell that's already filling the small space.
"You know those are terrible for you," you say.
"Groundbreaking information. Thank you." He takes a drag, one hand on the wheel, not pulling out of the spot yet.
"I'm dead serious. You should stop."
"I should do a lot of things." He glances at you sideways, smoke curling out the window. "You should stop pretending you don't know your boyfriend's cheating on you. We're both just walking around not doing things we should, I guess."
The car goes quiet except for the engine idling. You look straight ahead at the brick wall of the restaurant, at nothing. "I don't know what you're talking about," you say in a breathy tone.
"Sure you don't." He's not looking at you now either, tapping ash out the window, voice even, done pretending along with you. "His location switches off every other night. He checks his phone at dinner like it's gonna bite him if he doesn't. Tonight he left you at a restaurant for a 'work thing' that doesn't exist, and you didn't even ask him to explain it properly. You just let him go."
"That's not—" You stop and start again. "It's complicated."
"It's really not." He finally pulls out of the spot, one hand on the wheel, cigarette still between two fingers. "You don't want to deal with it. Which, fine, your business. But don't sit there and tell me you don't know, because I’m aware for the phone thing tonight too, and you didn't look surprised. You looked like someone who's done the math already."
There isn't a version of an answer that isn't just agreeing with him. So silence is the best option you could have at this moment.
"I'm not trying to make it worse, okay?" he says, softer, some of the edge gone out of his voice. "I just don't really feel like watching you sit through dinners like that and pretend it's normal."
"Why do you even care?"
He takes another drag and lets it out slow.
"Good question," he says finally without elaborating further, yet you don’t want to know more of it, because you're not sure you want to hear the answer any more than he seems to want to give it.
He drives you around the city for a while then turns left instead of right at the light that would've led back toward your apartment. The road opens up eventually, streetlights getting sparser, and then there's the smell of salt before you see the water. He parks in a mostly empty lot facing the beach, cuts the engine, and the quiet that follows feels different from the quiet in the restaurant parking lot. It’s less loaded.
"Why are we here?" you ask.
"I needed air that doesn't smell like your ex's cologne." He's already pulling his jacket off, tossing it into the back seat. Underneath he's just in a black tank top, and it's warm enough out that it makes sense, summer nights here never really cooling off the way you'd expect. "Also I like it here. Don't make it a big deal."
"He's not my ex."
"Give it time." He says it lightly, already opening his door, not wanting to hear you argue back. "Come."
You get out as sitting in the car alone would feel worse than following him. The sand is cool yet the air isn't, and he walks ahead of you toward the water without checking if you're behind him, hands in his pockets and shoulders loose.
"You could've warned me we were going to the beach," you say, catching up. "I'm in the wrong shoes for this."
"You're in shoes. That's more preparation than I did."
"You're wearing actual sneakers."
"Correct. Preparation." He glances back at you, the corner of his mouth pulling up. "Take them off if you're gonna complain the whole time."
"I'm not complaining, it was just a statement."
"Same thing, coming from you."
You shove his shoulder, and he barely moves as he laughs, low and light, as your annoyance is the most entertaining thing that's happened to him all week. The water's dark ahead of you, waves you can hear more than see, you can feel the knot in your belly loosening up.
"So this is the fresh air you talked about," you say, kicking your heels off like he told you to, sand cold between your toes. "Very noble of you, considering your lungs are probably black at this point."
"They're totally fine."
"You just smoked an entire cigarette in a closed car ten minutes ago."
"The window was cracked."
"Barely an inch."
He stops walking. He turns to look at you, and there's a specific kind of offense on his face, you can see that’s it’s fake. "Okay, you don't get to smoke-shame me and then act like you weren't the one who wanted to eat a hundred tons of sugar last week."
"That has nothing to do with your lungs."
"It's about hypocrisy, Y/N." He's already crossing his arms, which should've been your first warning. "You wanna talk about people ruining their bodies, we can talk about those candies."
"That's not remotely the same thing, and you know it."
"I don't know anything. I'm just a guy with fucked up lungs, apparently, standing here, getting attacked—"
"I didn't attack you, I made a freaking statement—"
"—run," he says, it's not really a warning and it's already happening, he's moving toward you before the word's even fully out. You don't think and you just run, already laughing three steps away, sand slowing you down and you probably look embarrassing and isn't because he's not much faster, both of you stumbling across the beach. He's close behind you, close enough that you can hear him laughing too, breathless, yet you don't look back and just keep going toward nothing in particular, the water loud beside you and your own heartbeat louder, making you forget why you were sad in the first place.
"Slow down!" you yell back at him, though you're the one speeding up. "Your lungs can't take this!"
"They're taking it fine, actually—" He's gaining on you, voice rougher now from the running, the laughing, both. "Better than yours, probably, all that complaining you do about stairs—"
"I don't even complain about stairs—"
"You complained about stairs yesterday. To my face."
"That building has no elevator, that's a legitimate—" You don't get to finish, because his hand catches your arm, hard enough to throw your balance off, and you're laughing too much to fight it anyway.
"Got you—"
"You didn't—"
He did. Your feet tangle in the sand and his do too trying to compensate, and there's a second where it could've gone fine, where you both could've just stopped, but now you're both going down, and he twists at the last second so he hits the sand first and you land half on top of him, knocking whatever air he had left in those apparently terrible lungs straight out of him.
"Okay," he wheezes, staring up at the sky, chest moving fast under you. "Okay, that one's on me."
You're still laughing, you can't stop, face pressed near his shoulder, sand in your hair, in your clothes, everywhere. "You caught me on purpose."
"I caught you very badly on purpose."
"Your lungs are so fucked."
"Please stop talking about my lungs." He's laughing too, you can feel it more than hear it, his chest shaking under where you're braced against him, and neither of you moves to get up right away, and it takes a second before either of you remembers there's a reason you're supposed to pull away from this.
"Great," you say, still not moving off him. "Now I'm covered in sand. This was a bad idea."
"It was my favorite plan I've had all week."
"You've had bad judgment all week, then." You finally push yourself up, brushing sand off your arms, off your legs, a losing battle. He sits up slower, still catching his breath, watching you try to fix your hair with zero success.
"I'm also thirsty," you add.
"There's water in the car."
"Warm water in a car that smells like cigarettes doesn't count."
He stands, holds a hand out to pull you up, and doesn't let go right away once you're on your feet. He looks at you for a second, he seems like he's deciding something. "Come to mine. Shower, water, whatever you need. It’s better than dropping you off covered in sand at eleven at night."
"Heeseung, I don't need—"
"You keep saying that word like it changes anything about what I'm gonna do anyway." He's already walking back toward the car, keys spinning once around his finger. "Come on."
His apartment turns out to be nothing like you expected, which annoys you a little, because you'd built some idea of his place in your head ; messy, small ; and instead the elevator opens straight into something enormous, floor-to-ceiling windows facing the city, furniture that looks like it costs a hundred racks, which does.
"This is insane," you say, standing in the doorway, still not fully inside. "You live here? Alone?"
"Don't sound so betrayed about it."
"I pictured you in, like, a studio apartment with a mattress on the floor."
"Wow. Thank you for that image of me." He drops his keys on the counter, shrugging like the apartment doesn't warrant comment. "Bathroom's down the hall, second door. There's towels in there. I'll find you something to change into that isn't full of sand."
You still haven't moved from the doorway, taking in the size of it, the quietness of a place too clean to belong to someone who bickers the way he does. "How do you even afford this?"
"Very boring answer. Ask me another time." He's already disappearing down the hall, calling back over his shoulder. "Towels. Bathroom. Go before you track sand into my very expensive rug."
You linger by the counter instead of heading for the bathroom yet, arms crossed, sand still clinging to your ankles. "Okay, but—when am I getting home tonight? I have work in the morning."
He reappears from the hallway with a folded shirt and shorts in hand, tossing them onto the couch for you. "Never. You live here now. I've decided."
"Heeseung."
"It's already, what, eleven thirty? You're covered in sand, your options are a shower here or a shower at home in forty-five minutes of traffic smelling like a beach." He shrugs, entirely too pleased with his own logic. "I'll drive you back whenever. Or you sleep on the world's most comfortable couch and I take you home before work. Very generous offer, considering my lungs are apparently on their way out."
"That's not what I asked."
"Yeah, and I answered better questions in my life." He nods toward the hallway, unbothered. "Go shower. I'm not driving anywhere until you stop smelling like low tide."
You get out of the shower first, dressed in the shirt and shorts he left you, both too big, sleeves falling past your hands. When you find him in the kitchen he's just in sweatpants, no shirt, hair still wet, and you stop in the doorway far too long before catching yourself.
"What?" he says, not even looking up from the glass of water he's pouring.
"Nothing. Put a shirt on, it's weird."
"It's my apartment, and it's hot. I'm not putting a shirt on for you." He slides the glass across the counter toward you, finally glancing over, and whatever's on your face makes something shift in his. "Are you flustered right now?"
"No."
"You're a little flustered."
"I'm annoyed." You grab the glass just to have something to do with your hands, and drink half of it too fast. "Some warning would've been nice."
"A warning for what, my own kitchen?"
"For the— " you point directly at him, at the general fact of him, "—situation."
"There's no situation. This is just what I look like." A shit eating grin appears on his face, fully enjoying this, leaning against the counter. "You can look away if it's that distressing."
"I'm not even looking."
"You're looking right now."
"I'm looking at you to argue with you, and you look so dumb right now."
"Sure it is." He pushes off the counter, grabs a pack of cigarettes off the counter, and heads for the balcony door without the will to talk back. You follow, mostly out of spite, and the air outside is warm, the city spread out below, making the apartment's size make a little more sense. He lights up, leaning on the railing, and you stand a few feet away, arms crossed against a chill that isn't really there.
The smoke drifts toward you on the next breath of wind and you cough slightly, covering the lower half of you face with your hand.
His eyes stay on the city while a silent chuckle almost escapes him. He shifts slowly, moving to stand on your left instead, angling himself so the smoke pulls away from you and out over the railing. A quietness installs itself between you.
He flicks ash over the railing, and glances at you. "You want a drink or something? I've got wine, I think there's soju somewhere too."
"Wine would be good."
He disappears inside for a minute, comes back with two glasses and the bottle tucked under his arm, he sets everything down on the small table between the balcony chairs. You sit, and he drops into the chair across from you, pouring without measuring, more in yours than his.
"How did we even meet?" you say, mostly to fill the silence, turning the glass by its stem. "Like, before Ethan and I were even together. I feel like I always just knew you as his friend."
"You did. That's exactly what happened." He takes a sip to give himself time to recoil on the memory. "We met at that party his roommate threw, where it had the terrible speaker system. You spilled something on my shoes and apologized for like ten minutes straight."
"I did not apologize for ten minutes."
"You did. I still remember the shoes, they were new."
"You're exaggerating."
"I'm really not, I still have them." He leans back, glass balanced on his knee. "Then Ethan started talking about you nonstop for like a month before he actually got the balls to ask you out. It was unbearable. I heard about your laugh before I heard you laugh."
You laugh a little despite yourself. "That's embarrassing," you say.
"For him, mostly. I didn't say anything." He swirls the wine, not quite looking at you now. "You were different back then. I mean—Not different-different. I just think that you were, like, less careful about everything."
"Careful how?"
"You used to argue with me for fun. Now half the time you're arguing with me because you're arguing with something else and I'm just the nearest target." He says in a chuckle. "I liked the fun version better. Not that this version's bad, though."
You take your time before replying. Your fingers slowly roll the glass between your palms as you watch the wine reflect the light, letting the silence fill the space while you think.
"I didn't notice it happening," you say finally.
"Fair enough. That's usually how it goes."
He gives you time. He sits beside you in comfortable silence, his glass resting against his knee while the distant sounds of the city soften the moment.
"You know he doesn't deserve the amount of patience you're giving him, right?" he says eventually, not looking at you when he says it, trying to make it easier for both of you. "Whatever he's doing, wherever he's going at nine at night—you're sitting there making excuses for him. I watched you do it tonight."
"It's not that simple."
"It’s obviously not simple, we both know that. I'm saying you deserve someone who doesn't make you rehearse excuses for him in your head before he's even said anything." He looks over at you, his gaze serious. "You're smart. You're funny, when you're not exhausted, which lately is rare. You shouldn't be spending this much of yourself on someone who’s always checking his phone at a dinner with you."
"You don't know everything that's going on, so stop—"
"I don't need to know everything. I already know enough." He sets his glass down, leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees. "I'm not trying to convince you to do anything, okay? I just don't think you hear it enough, so I'm saying it. You deserve better than what he's giving you. That's it."
You look down at your glass instead of at him, throat tight from what you’ve been holding since you found out.
"Like it matters to you, anyway." you mumble quietly.
He lets the silence settle between you once more. Taking a deep breath, he seems to consider his next words carefully, revealing nothing before he's ready.
"It does," he declares finally. "I'm not gonna make it more complicated than that tonight."
You let the subject rest, and he doesn't volunteer anything more. Together, you sit quietly, listening to the muted sounds of the city while the wine slowly warms in your hands. Somehow, the silence says more than words you could find.
After some time, you both decided to watch a movie to ease everything out. Now, you’re curled up on the couch, the bottle of wine you two polished off leaving a soft warmth in your veins. The TV flickers with some late-night drama that you couldn't force yourself to be invested in even if you wanted to. Your head feels pleasantly light, and whatever usually fuels your arguments has faded, leaving behind nothing more than lazy teasing.
A new scene unfolds on screen : dark lighting, tangled sheets, the actors lost in a heated and sensual moment. The woman arches under her partner’s touch as his hands glide slowly over her body ; caressing, teasing, worshipping. The sounds are low and breathy, filling the room.
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and the wine makes you bold. You glance at Heeseung beside you. "I…I’ve never done that with Ethan," you murmur, voice coming out as a whisper. "Not like that, at least."
Heeseung’s head snaps toward you, eyes wide with real shock. "Wait—what? Never? Not even close?"
You shake your head, biting your lip as embarrassment and frustration mix with the alcohol. "No. It’s always been…rushed. He enever wanted to explore things or try new things. Like he doesn’t have the patience for it." Your gaze lingers on the screen for another second before returning to him. "Do you…know how to do that? Like, really touch someone like that?"
Heeseung keeps his eyes on you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight. Something unspoken passes between you. "Y/N…" he starts, voice low and careful, a flicker of heat in his eyes.
You shift slightly, scooting an inch closer on the couch. "Show me? I want to know everything. Touch me the way he’s touching her. Please?"
He swallows, and finally slowly nods, setting his empty glass aside. "Alright. But tell me when it's too much, okay?" His voice has dropped, rougher now. He reaches out, starting gentle. His fingers brush along your arm, tracing slow lines from your wrist up to your shoulder. "Like this," he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. "Pay attention to how your skin feels under my hand." His palm flattens against your collarbone, sliding down your side in one smooth caress, mapping the curve of your waist through your shirt.
You shiver, the wine amplifying every touch. Emboldened, you lean into him, and he scoots closer too, until your thighs press together. His other hand joins in, fingertips grazing your neck, then trailing down your chest with feather-light pressure.
"Tell me what feels good," he instructs softly, his hand venturing lower, stroking along your hip and the top of your thigh. "Here?" He squeezes gently, then lets his palm glide back up, bolder now.
The space between you disappears as you both shift nearer, bodies turning toward each other. Your hand finds his chest, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat, and slide up to his neck. His breath grows heavier. His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, caressing bare skin ; warm, exploratory, following the line of your ribs.
You look up at him, lips parted. He meets your gaze for half a second before closing the distance. Tongues meet, slow and deep at first, turning more insistent as your fingers thread into his hair. He pulls you closer, one hand firm on your lower back while the other continues its caress, sliding higher under your shirt.
His kisses grow fiercer, nipping at your lower lip before soothing it, bodies pressing together on the couch as the moment spirals deeper.
You automatically swing your leg over, straddling Heeseung’s lap as the kiss deepens. Your knees sink into the couch on either side of him, bodies aligning perfectly. He groans softly into your mouth, his hands finding your waist instantly, gripping you to steady the sudden movement. "Y/N…" he breathes against your lips, pulling you closer.
His fingers dig in a little too hard at first ; eager, hungry from the built-up tension ; and you yelp sharply against his mouth, a quick flash of pain cutting through the haze of wine and heat. He pulls back immediately, eyes wide with concern, his grip loosening right away. "Shit—sorry," he murmurs. One hand gently rubs the spot on your waist where he’d gripped too tightly. "Didn’t mean to. You okay?"
You nod quickly, still breathing hard, the sting already fading into the warmth. "Yeah…I’m fine. Don’t stop."
Relief flashes across his face, quickly renewed by that same heated look. He leans in again, capturing your lips in another urgent kiss. his time, there's a new caution in the way he touches you. His hands glide slowly along your sides, lingering as though giving you every chance to pull away before one drifts lower. He cups your ass firmly, squeezing with just the right pressure ; possessive, appreciative ; as he pulls you tighter against him.
You moan softly into the kiss, rolling your hips instinctively. His tongue slides against yours, deeper and more demanding now, while his fingers knead your ass, encouraging the movement. The kiss turns messy, breathless, both of you lost in the heat as his other hand stays anchored at your waist, guiding you closer. The undeniable spark between you push everything else away.
You’re both breathing heavily when Heeseung pulls back just enough to speak, his voice low and gentle against your ear. "Come off my lap for a second, baby," he murmurs, hands sliding soothingly along your thighs. "Turn around for me."
You nod, a little dazed from the wine and the intensity, and shift off him. He helps guide you, turning you so your back is to his chest. He settles back against the couch, spreading his legs and pulling you between them until you’re nestled against him, your back flush to his front. His arms wrap around you from behind, one hand resting on your stomach while the other strokes your thigh.
"Spread your legs for me," he says softly, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "As far as you can. Let me see you."
You obey, parting your thighs wider, heat flooding your face as the position leaves you open and exposed. Heeseung hums approvingly, his fingers teasing lightly along the inside of your thigh, drawing slow circles that inch higher but never quite touch where you’re starting to ache.
"My pretty girl," he whispers, the praise making you shiver. His hand keeps stroking closer and closer until you’re squirming. "Has he ever fingered you?" he asks almost hesitantly, he already suspects the answer.
You shake your head, voice small. "No…He never did. He only ever made me suck his dick and...he was so rushed to put it in."
Heeseung exhales sharply, a mix of disbelief and irritation flashing through him. "Fuck…alright. I’ve got you."
He’s careful ; painfully so. His fingers slide under your clothes, gently parting you before one fingertip circles your entrance, gathering wetness. "Tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.
Slowly, he eases one finger inside you, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to the stretch. He moves gently, curling carefully, his other arm holding you against his chest. "Breathe, Y/N. I’ll make it good for you."
He adds a second finger only when you start rocking back against his hand, still cautious, focusing entirely on your reactions as he begins to pump them in a sluggish rhythm. His thumb finds your clit, teasing light circles while he fingers you with patient strokes.
You gasp sharply as Heeseung’s fingers suddenly hit harder, the angle shifting and sending a jolt of pain through you. Your body tenses, a small cry escaping your lips.
He freezes instantly, eyes widening in panic. "Shit—sorry, sorry," he blurts, quickly easing his fingers out of you. "I didn’t mean to—fuck, are you okay? I’m so sorry, Y/N." He repeats the apology under his breath, one hand gently rubbing your thigh while the other hovers uncertainly, clearly rattled.
You catch your breath, the sting fading fast in the haze of alcohol. A smirk slowly tugs at your lips as you look back at him over your shoulder. "Are you really sorry?"
"Yes," he says immediately, voice earnest. "Of course I am."
You turn around fully to face him, still sitting between his legs. "Then get on your knees in front of me."
He blinks, then lets out a short disbelieving scoff, assuming you’re joking. "What? Right now?"
Your expression stays serious, eyes locked on his. "I said get on your knees."
The smirk on his face fades when he realizes you mean it. After a beat of hesitation, he slides off the couch and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, looking up at you with surprise and growing desire.
"Come closer," you order softly.
He shifts forward on his knees until he’s right between your spread legs, hands resting tentatively on your thighs as he waits for your next instruction, breath a little uneven.
You lean back slightly, looking down at him. "Lick it."
Heeseung’s eyes darken instantly. Without another word, he leans in, pressing his mouth to you. His tongue drags slowly through your folds at first ; warm and soaked ; before he settles into long hungry strokes, focusing on your clit with just the right pressure. His hands grip your thighs to hold you open as he licks you with focused intent, the earlier apology shifted by eager obedience.
You let the pleasure build for a few moments, your hand threading into his hair as his tongue works you over with growing confidence. But then you tug gently, pulling him back.
"Stop." you say, voice breathy yet firm.
Heeseung pulls away immediately, lips glistening, looking up at you with hooded eyes and a hint of confusion. His chest rises and falls quickly.
You smirk down at him, still holding his hair. "You’re not going to continue until you say sorry…while you’re eating me out."
He blinks once, processing the command, then an almost amused smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "You’re serious?"
You raise an eyebrow, waiting.
He leans back in without further protest. His tongue returns to you before he murmurs the words right against your core, the vibrations sending sparks through you. "I’m sorry," he breathes, licking a long stripe up your folds. "Sorry for being too rough…" Another slow swirl around your clit. "I won’t hurt you again."
He keeps going, alternating between soft apologies and dedicated licks, his voice low and muffled as he eats you out. "Sorry, baby…fuck, you taste so good." His hands grip your thighs a little tighter as he buries his tongue deeper, still repeating quiet "sorry"s between every lick and suck, the blend of submission and hunger making the moment even more intense.
You lean back further, letting him worship you like that ; his apologies vibrating against you with every stroke of his tongue.
You slide your fingers deeper into his hair, gripping it firmly as you pull him closer against you. Heeseung’s eyes flutter half-closed ; sleepy and hazy with lust ; his ears flushed a pretty shade of pink from the heat and the wine. The sight makes something wicked twist in your lower belly.
"Well, would you look at yourself," you tease, voice breathy but filled with amusement. "On your knees, ears all pink, eyes looking half-asleep like a fucking loser."
He pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips shiny and swollen, a lazy smirk spreading across his face despite the grip you have on his hair. His sleepy eyes narrow playfully. "Loser?" he scoffs, breath hot against your skin. "Says the one who’s been missing out for months and is now dripping all over my face. If I’m such a loser, why are you pulling my hair like you never want me to stop?"
You tug his hair a little harder in response, and he lets out a low, amused chuckle, vibrating right where you need it.
"Keep talking shit and I might actually stop," you warn, though your hips roll forward, chasing his mouth.
Heeseung’s smirk only widens, pink ears burning brighter. "Yeah? Then I guess this loser better shut up and keep saying sorry…" He dives back in with renewed energy, tongue pressing flat and slow, murmuring one last muffled "Sorry, baby" against you before focusing entirely on making your teasing backfire.
You feel it building fast ; the tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core while his tongue works you relentlessly. His sleepy eyes stay locked on yours whenever he pulls back for air, pink ears still burning, that smug little smirk never fully leaving his face even while he’s buried between your thighs.
Your grip in his hair tightens, hips rolling against his mouth as your breathing turns ragged. "Heeseung—fuck, I’m—"
Right as the orgasm crests, right as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls back completely. His mouth leaves you with one last slow, teasing lick before he sits back on his heels, lips glistening, looking far too pleased with himself.
You let out a frustrated whine, thighs trembling. "What the hell—"
He chuckles lowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes are sleepy-lidded, but sparkling with mischief. "Not yet," he murmurs, voice rough. One finger lazily traces up your inner thigh, barely brushing where you need him. "You were talking so much shit earlier about me being a loser…thought you could handle a little teasing."
You glare down at him, still panting, the denied orgasm leaving you aching and frustrated. He leans in again, pressing the softest, almost innocent kiss right above your clit, then another on your thigh ; carefully avoiding where you’re throbbing.
"What is it?" he teases, voice low and amused. "All worked up and squirming. Were you really about to cum that fast on my tongue? Cute."
He blows a gentle stream of cool air against your wet folds, making you jolt, then gives you one torturously light lick before pulling away again.
"Beg a little nicer and maybe I’ll let you finish," he says with a smirk, pink ears still flushed as he watches your reaction, clearly enjoying edging you way too much.
Your hand tightens in his hair again, torn between wanting to pull him back in and wanting to throttle him for stopping.
You’re still catching your breath on the couch, legs shaky from the cruel edge, when Heeseung rises from his knees. He climbs over you, hovering above your body with his hands braced on either side of your head. His face is flushed, those sleepy eyes dark with want as he looks down at you.
You bite your lip, heart racing. Slowly, you lift one leg and slide your foot up between his thighs, pressing the sole against the obviously hard bulge straining through his sweatpants. You rub it teasingly with your toes, pressing on it with gentle pressure, feeling him twitch under your foot.
His breath hitches sharply, hips jerking forward into your touch. "Y/N," he warns, voice low and strained.
You look up at him with soft, fakely innocent eyes, a sweet little smile playing on your lips even as your foot continues its lazy; pressing, rubbing, tracing the outline of his cock through the soft fabric.
"What?" you murmur softly, batting your lashes. “You edged me…seems only fair I play with you a little."
He lets out a shaky laugh, forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder for a moment. His arms tremble slightly as he holds himself up, clearly fighting the urge to grind harder against your foot.
"Fuck, you’re evil," he breathes, with only affection and raw desire. His eyes flutter half-closed again as you keep rubbing him so gently, the contrast between your soft gaze and the teasing pressure of your foot making him groan quietly above you.
The air between you crackles, thick with tension as he hovers there, letting you toy with him.
You’re still looking up at him with those soft eyes when he suddenly pulls back. He stands just long enough to shove his sweatpants and boxers down in one motion, kicking them aside. His cock springs free, hard and flushed. Before you can fully process, he’s back on the couch, gently turning you around again so your back is pressed to his chest ; just like earlier.
You blink in confusion, still wobbly. "Heeseung, what are you—?"
While staying silent, he wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against him. With his free hand, he guides his cock, rubbing the thick head slowly up and down your soaked core. The pressure is heavy and hot as he glides it between your folds, coating himself in your wetness, letting you feel every inch of his length sliding against your sensitive skin.
"Just feel it," he murmurs against your ear. "Gotta get you used to me first."
The grind makes you whimper, your body tensing as the blunt head nudges at your entrance. Then he pushes in ; slow and gentle. The stretch is intense. You yell out at the burn, your hands flying back to grip his thighs.
Heeseung stops instantly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I know, baby, I know," he whispers soothingly, voice dull and tender. "You’re doing so good." One of his hands slides down to caress your lower stomach in comforting circles, trying to ease the discomfort. "I’ve got you, Y/N. I’m right here."
He stays still inside you, whispering sweet nothings against your skin while his fingers keep gently rubbing your stomach. Gradually, the pain starts to melt into a deep ache. When your breathing evens out a little, he begins to move. His thrusts are slothful at first but quickly turn sloppy, messy and uncoordinated from the alcohol and the overwhelming heat of the moment. Wet sounds fill the room as he rocks into you from behind, one arm banded around your waist while the other continues caressing your lower belly.
"Fuck…sorry, it’s—shit, you feel too good," he groans, the pace erratic and desperate, hips snapping up into you with needy and imperfect strokes.
His thrusts are getting sloppier, hips stuttering as the dizziness makes his pace messy and desperate. Next, on one particularly eager push, his cock slips out completely with a wet pop, loud enough to be heard in the entire living room.
You squirm hard in his lap, a needy whimper escaping you at the sudden empty feeling. Your body instinctively rocks back, searching for him again.
Heeseung lets out a breathy chuckle against your neck. "Easy, baby…"
He grips the base of his cock and gives it a couple of lazy slaps against your soaked cunt; wet smacks making you jolt and moan. The head nudges your clit with each tap, fooling you until you’re trembling.
And without warning, he lines himself up and pushes back in with one thrust, burying himself deep into you cunt. You gasp at the sudden fullness, your back arching against his chest as he groans deeply.
"Shit…that sound," he mutters, voice rough. His arm tightens around your waist, holding you in place while his other hand returns to caress your lower stomach. He starts moving again, still sloppy and uncoordinated, but deeper now ; each thrust punctuated by the wet sounds of skin meeting skin.
He kisses along your shoulder, whispering hotly, "You’re so fucking wet…hear how you take me?"
His hips snap up messily, cock sliding in and out as he keeps you pressed tight against him, lost in the pleasure of it all. You’re lost in the flow of his cock sliding in and out of you, the filthy sounds of your pussy filling the room with every sloppy thrust, when your phone starts ringing on the coffee table. The screen lights up with Ethan’s name.
You notice that it doesn't stop Heeseung from doing his work. If anything, his hips snap up harder, driving deeper as he reaches over and grabs your phone. You try to protest through a moan, but he answers the call and puts it on speaker, setting it down nearby.
"Hey, man," he says casually, voice only slightly strained as he keeps fucking you tirelessly from behind. The squelching sounds are loud and clear.
Ethan’s voice comes through, sounding worried. "Heeseung? Where’s Y/N? She’s not home yet and she’s not answering her phone. Is she with you?"
"Yeah, she’s right here," Heeseung replies, one hand gripping your hip tighter as he thrusts up into you again, making you bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. "She’s a little busy though."
You squirm in his lap, embarrassed heat flooding your face even as pleasure keeps building. Heeseung leans closer to your ear and whispers, "Let him hear how wet you are," before picking up the pace.
The obscene, slick sounds of his cock plunging into your soaked pussy echo clearly through the speaker.
Ethan pauses. "What the fuck is that sound? Is she okay?"
Heeseung lets out a low chuckle, still thrusting deeper. "She’s more than okay. I’m fucking her right now, bro. That’s the sound of her pussy taking my cock."
You moan despite yourself as he hits a particularly good spot, unable to stay quiet.
"Can you hear that?" Heeseung asks tauntingly, angling his hips so the wet noises get even louder. "Hear how soaked she is? Those are her moans too. She’s been missing this for a long time."
Ethan’s voice cracks with shock and anger. "What the hell, Heeseung?! Y/N—!"
Before Ethan can finish, Heeseung cuts him off, still buried deep inside you, voice low and possessive as he speaks directly into the phone :
"You might be what she wants…but I’m clearly what she needs."
He hangs up quickly, tossing the phone aside. His arms wrap around you tighter as he resumes fucking you with intensity, mouth pressed to your neck.
"Focus on me, baby," he murmurs hotly. "Just feel how full you are."
The sounds continue as he drives into you, the interruption only making him more eager. You barely have time to process the call ending before your phone starts buzzing repeatedly on the table. Message after message from Ethan lights up the screen ; vibrating angrily one after another.
Heeseung glances at it but doesn’t stop. His hips keep rolling up into you in that same relentless pounding, cock stretching you open with every wet thrust.
"Damn…he’s blowing up your phone," he mutters with a dark chuckle. One arm stays banded around your waist, holding you firmly in place on his lap while his other hand reaches down to rub slow circles over your clit.
He keeps fucking you through the mess. Your phone vibrates again and again ; texts popping up rapidly.
You moan helplessly, eyes fluttering as pleasure overrides everything else. "Heeseung…he’s—"
"I don't fucking care," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. "Let him text. You’re mine right now."
He angles his hips and thrusts up hard, making you cry out as the head of his cock hits that perfect spot over and over. The phone keeps buzzing but Heeseung only fucks you harder, the sounds of your bodies utterly drowning out the vibrations.
His hand on your lower stomach presses down gently, making you feel every inch of him sliding in and out. "Hear how loud your pussy is for me?" he groans, voice rough. "Keep taking it, baby. Just like that."
You’re a mess ; moaning, squirming, gripping his thighs as he continues pounding into you from behind, unbothered by the nonstop stream of notifications. The phone eventually goes silent for a few seconds only to start vibrating again. Both of you wouldn't care less. Heeseung’s only focus is the way your walls clench around him as he fucks you through it all.
So that's what you've been missing out all this time.
— as assistant managers at one of the most popular luxury hotels, you and jungwon have been put through the wringer. it is no secret that the two of you harbour deeper feelings for each other, and yet, even after so many years of working together, nothing has happened. perhaps this cycle things will finally change…
or, you receive a promotion offer only an idiot would turn down, but at the cost of moving across the country and leaving everyone behind.
warnings: fake texts, f!reader, jungwon a menace and jake the Victim, slight jealousy, reader best assistant manager
chapter 6: fuck my Baka life | prev | series masterlist
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a/n: based on a true story (i'm ovulating). if u saw my first post no u didnt
taglist @wonourlove @cosykitchenwitch @y44ngjw @justpassingdontworry @won1yoiz @cosm1cgarbag3 @jakekshh @angelshedevils @rol-x29 @charlizefaye @mariwon @ladybugjin @loverofmusic0027 @hoonieluv comment to be added!!
synopsis✧˖° after one too many drinks with friends, you stumble home to jungwon, all loose limbs and declarations of love. he takes care of you in that quiet, steady way he has, and somewhere between the headache medicine and the forehead kisses, you remember exactly why you chose him.
notes✧˖° this is kinda short, and i apologize!! had to write something for my brave and glorious king jungwon (hate is NOT tolerated here) however i had time today so i just wrote two little fics that ill be posting cause i have nothing better to do in the summer!! #unemployed so here we are! please enjoy.
the uber drops you off at the curb and you nearly forget to close the door behind you, giggling at your own clumsiness as you wave goodbye to the driver who definitely thinks you're a mess.
you are a mess. a happy, warm, spinning mess.
your heels click unevenly against the pavement as you make your way to the front door, fumbling with your keys for a solid three minutes before realizing you never actually locked it this morning.
jungwon is going to lecture you about that tomorrow, you think, but right now you can't bring yourself to care because the door swings open and there he is.
he's on the couch, laptop balanced on his knees, glasses sliding down his nose, hair sticking up in seven different directions from where he's been running his hands through it.
he looks up when you enter, and his face does that thing it always does when you come home, this soft rearranging of features into something like relief, like love.
"hey," he says, closing the laptop. "i was getting worried. it's almost two."
"sorry," you sing song, kicking off your shoes and almost falling over in the process. "lost track of time. soojin kept buying shots."
he stands, approaching you with the kind of caution usually reserved for wild animals, and you realize you must look as disheveled as you feel. your hair is probably escaping its clips and your lipstick is definitely smeared.
"how many shots?" he asks, taking your purse from your shoulder and setting it on the entry table.
"enough," you say, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in his collarbone. he smells like fabric softener and the vanilla candle you keep in the bedroom and something uniquely him, something warm and grounding.
"enough to miss you a lot."
his hands settle on your waist, steadying you. "you saw me this morning."
"still missed you," you mumble against his skin. "missed you every second. kept thinking about your face. your stupid pretty face."
he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest against yours. "come on, let's get you to bed."
"no," you protest, tightening your grip. "want to stay here. want to hold you."
"you can hold me in bed," he reasons, but he's already giving in, wrapping his arms around your back and swaying slightly with you in the entryway "you're going to have a headache tomorrow."
"worth it," you declare, pulling back to look at him. the room tilts a little, so you grip his shoulders harder. "you're so pretty. did i tell you you're pretty?"
"you mentioned my stupid pretty face, yes."
"no but like," you cup his cheeks in your hands, squishing his face until his lips pucker. "you're the prettiest. the prettiest boy. i'm so lucky. how did i get so lucky?"
he tries to speak but your thumbs are pressing against his mouth, so he just makes a muffled sound that you interpret as agreement.
"okay, lightweight," he says, gently extracting your hands from his face and bringing them to his lips to kiss your knuckles.
"let's get you some water and medicine before you declare your undying love to the coat rack."
"the coat rack wishes," you sniff, but you let him guide you toward the kitchen, leaning heavily against his side.
he settles you at the kitchen island and you watch him move around the space, filling a glass with water, finding the ibuprofen in the cabinet, wetting a paper towel. he moves with such intention, such care, and you feel your chest ache with the sheer volume of your affection for him.
"here," he says, pressing the glass into your hands. "drink all of it."
"yes sir," you salute, spilling a little on your shirt.
he sighs, but he's smiling, that gummy smile that makes your heart stutter.
you drink the water because he asked you to, because you would probably drink poison if he looked at you like that, all soft and fond and patient.
"medicine," he says, holding out two pills.
"don't need it," you argue. "feel fine. feel great. feel like i could run a marathon."
"you could barely walk to the kitchen," he points out. "take the medicine. future you will thank me."
you take the pills, chasing them with the rest of your water, and then he's there with the paper towel, wiping at your mouth with the kind of tenderness that makes you want to cry.
"love you," you say, catching his wrist. "love you so much. like, so much. like if love was a thing you could measure, i would have the most. i would win. gold medal in loving jungwon."
"that's very impressive," he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "you're definitely winning."
"really?"
"really. no contest."
you beam at him, all loose and happy and full of feelings that the alcohol has made impossible to filter. "good. because you're my favorite. my favorite person. my favorite everything."
he takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and starts walking toward the bedroom. you follow, unsteady but unwilling to let go of him, your anchor in the spinning room.
"you're going to regret this in the morning," he warns, pulling back the covers and helping you sit on the edge of the bed.
"never," you say, watching him unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. "could never regret you."
he pauses, hands on your calves, and looks up at you. his eyes are dark in the dim light of the bedroom, serious in a way that sobers you slightly.
"you say the nicest things when you're drunk," he murmurs.
"mean them," you insist. "mean them all the time. just say them more when i'm tipsy."
he finishes helping you out of your clothes, replacing them with one of his oversized tshirts that smells like him, and then he's guiding you under the covers, tucking you in like you're something precious.
"stay," you say, catching his hand as he moves to stand. "please. want to sleep with you holding me."
he doesn't hesitate, just kicks off his sweatpants and climbs in beside you, pulling you against his chest. you curl into him immediately, leg thrown over his hip, arm draped across his waist, face buried in the hollow of his throat.
"this okay?" he asks, stroking your hair.
"perfect," you sigh. "you're perfect. did i say that? you're perfect."
"you might have mentioned it."
"good. because you are. take such good care of me. always taking care of me."
"want to," he says quietly, lips brushing your hairline. "love taking care of you."
"even when i'm messy?"
"especially when you're messy," he admits, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "you're cute when you're messy. all soft and honest. tell me everything you're thinking."
"embarrassing," you groan.
"never," he promises. "never embarrassing. i like knowing what you're feeling. even if it's just that you think i'm pretty."
"stupid pretty," you correct, yawning.
"stupid pretty," he agrees.
the room is still spinning but it's slower now, gentler, like you're floating on a lazy river instead of being tossed in waves. his hand is tracing patterns on your back, up and down, circles and figure eights, and you feel yourself drifting, anchored by his heartbeat against your palm.
"jungwon?" you whisper.
"yeah?"
"thank you for waiting up."
"nowhere else i'd be," he says simply.
"love you," you say again, because it bears repeating, because you want him to know it in every cell of his body, because you're tipsy and sentimental and he deserves to hear it a thousand times.
"love you too," he says, and you feel the words vibrate through his chest. "go to sleep, baby. i'll be right here."
"promise?"
"promise."
you believe him. you always believe him. he's never given you a reason not to.
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an✧˖° its short but its good! (i think?) any feedback is welcome, good or bad. please be respectful! reblogs are always welcome and PLEASE comment! i love the reactions!! if you like my writing style and would like to see something specific, please send an ask!!
warnings: threesome + kinda subby jake in a way.. + oral + dp ment + overstimulation + anal implied + masturbation + dacryphilia kinda
💌: hi m highand runninf on like an hr of sleep so if this is bad pls dont be mean i jsut have major heejake brain atm
threesome with heeseung n yunie.. jake’s fat cock fills out your cunt soso nicely, has you whimpering with every desperate thrust n he’s constantly apologizing through it !!!! interrupting himself with broken groans when his tip meets your cervix with a smooch n he cant stop himself from pressing his hips roughly against yours, grinding n humping against you like a mutt.
and maybe… Maybe heeseung’s talking the two of you through it. orders jake to manhandle you into the most humiliating positions, tells him when to slow down, when to fuck you rougher, n even where to cum.
heeseung loves watching his sweet doll get fucked. he loves everything about it, the different sounds you make, the way your cunt drives people crazy n they cant get enough, n how happy you are to please.
but his absolute favorite thing is the way you taste after, your puffy pussy slick n teasing him.
he has you crawl to him after jake’s obeyed his wishes n filled every one of your holes with his thick cum, two sets of eyes locked on every move you make, not missing the globs that trail from your ass down to your slit, their cocks twitching in interest every time a sticky drop leaks out of your battered pussy n splatters to the ground.
heeseung calling for jake to make his way beside him n then having you bare your messy little fuckholes to them, clenching and unclenching around nothing from how badly you need them inside of you.
but heeseung is having none of that. he has you present yourself to them, face down to the floor, hips raised high n your hands spreading your folds, giving them a proper view before he’s forcing you onto the bed n burying his tongue in your creamy, fuckedout pussy, already obsessed with the taste of you and jakey.
n jake.. poor, sweet, easy jake is hard again, thumbing at his cockhead n whimpering because he’s so, so incredibly sensitive after flooding your guts, tears pooling in his pretty eyes as he fucks his fist <3
+ jakey gettin a lil stupid bcs he’s climaxed soosososo much… when hee’s done, jake closes his eyes n sits back not realizing heeseung hasn’t swallowed that last bit of cum from ur cunt n he also hasnt realized how close he is either. not until seungie’s sliding a hand up his chest n throat before settling on his jaw, lithe fingers encouraging jake to open up n so he does, cumming for the nth time when heeseung kisses him, loud n obscene n soso sexy to watch <3 their chins n lips a mess of spit n cum
