Kristyynaah @kristynaaah - Tumblr Blog

── .✦ Was it all casual?

teaser !

── .✦ in which . you fell in love with Nishimura Riki by his charming look and his cheerful personality, you both got along so well until fate withheld what you longed for. ۶ৎ ⸝⸝ w/c . 4.9k ⸝⸝ pairing . non-idol!riki , fem!reader ۶ৎ

⸝⸝ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 〢 contains . angst ‧ slowburn ‧ high school life ‧ fluff? ‧ mentions of eunchae of le sserafim, and hwang yeji of itzy (just a teaser but will be mentioned in the future) ‧ strangers to lover trope? ‧ acts-of-service-riki ‧ jokingly petnames ( baby, princess, etc )--(will be mentioned in the future) ‧ lmk if theres more! 🧸ྀི ' yves note .. ➤ ! ignore grammatical errors ! "hello! so this story is actually based on true events, which is mine, and i haven't move on from it or the person im referring to because it constantly reminds me everytime. so i just decided i should write about it!! this is my first written fanfic soo please bear with me. "

hatred and critism towards my post will be blocked.

Three weeks had passed since your first day of school, and you had already made friends. You chatted as usual, listened to your advisor, scribbled notes, and ate lunch with your friends—until this day.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

At 4:07 a.m., you woke up and prepared for school, expecting nothing unusual. By 5:40, your mother called you down. You grabbed your bag, slipped on your earphones, and headed to the car.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

on the drive, you stared out the window, music filling your ears, until your phone buzzed. It was eunchae.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ . eunchae | hey babes, wya? im already here

. y/n | im close to school, wait for me

. eunchae | alright, text me when you're here. love you stay safe

. y/n | love you 2, tnx

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

then you eventually arrived. you closed your phone and as you were about to head out from the car, you kissed your mother goodbye then walked towards the school.

just as you walked through the hallway toward your first class— your close friend Eunchae suddenly appeared beside you, tapping your shoulder.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" heyy! how are you? " she asked, as she put her hands behind her and wiggling her body. you could read her face and actions and you immediately knew something was up.

" Im good! but you're acting weird today.. " you said looking suspicious.

" ugh you know me too much y/n! but anyway, i just heard an old student here is transferring back! do you want to welcome her? " she said looking cheerfully and clearly excited.

" sure. if she's approachable of course " both you and eunchae kept chatting whilst heading inside the classroom.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you and eunchae were best friends since pre-school and practically grew up with each other. you two shared each others ups and downs, supported each others come outs, got through every phases together and solved every fights both of you had. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ eunchaes parents and your parents were close friends making you and eunchae close friends to. you both celebrated your birthdays on each side, celebrated christmas together and so is halloween. you two were inseperable.

you and eunchae always sat next to each other through every class you both attended to, since both of you coincidentally have the same schedule and classes.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Just as you were about to settle down, your eyes drifted toward the doorway. The old student had arrived with his mother. While his mother spoke with Mrs. Kim, the advisor, your attention lingered on the student herself.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

he carried a masculine charm—wolf-cut hair framing hunter-like eyes, full cheeks, a plain white polo paired with black baggy jeans, a black handbag, and a simple hair tie resting on his wrist.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You stole a glance at him, holding it just long enough for him to notice. The moment his eyes met yours, you quickly looked away, cheeks flushed. Even then, you couldn’t deny the feelings already stirring inside you—the way your attention kept drifting back to him.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" hey, you okay? you seem pretty.. red.. are you sick? " eunchae asked already worrying at you.

" oh no, no no im fine yeah im fine " you replied nervously as you stared at her already looking suspicious.

" hmm.. " she said while staring at you and the old student back and forth.

" oh? oh my god y/n, you like him do you? " she said.

" what? No i don't w-what do you mean? " you nervously replied as a wave of nervousness rushed over you, coloring your cheeks crimson.

" no you definitely do, i know you. "

she replied, staring at you deeply you could feel her gaze into your soul.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

as you were about to say something, your advisor suddenly yells for everyone to go back to their assigned seats. you immediately sat on your chair whilst your classmates ran to their seats.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" i have an announcement to make. a transferee will join our class starting today. i expect all of you to behave and make her feel welcome. "

" you may introduce yourself " your advisor said whilst glancing at the transferee and gesturing him to go infront.

as he was walking, you quickly admired him and was mesmerized by how tall he looked and how he would look right beside you.

" Good morning everyone. im Nishimura Riki, 18 years old and i believe we could all work together. "

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you admired him for too long not knowing he was already introducing himself. he glanced at you but you quickly looked away. only to find your gaze drifting back to him again anyway.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" alright Riki. welcome to our class, you may now sit at that empty seat right there. " mrs. kim said as she pointed at a familiar spot.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

riki nodded at the advisor and quickly walked to his assigned seat. as he passed, you avoided his gaze—only to realize he was sitting directly beside you. the sudden closeness made your chest tighten, but you steadied yourself, forcing calm over your nerves.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

despite all that happend, everything went back to normal. the advisor reviewing topics, and classmates chit chatting. but beside that, riki kept quiet as he only knew about a few people here since he was an old student.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you wanted to befriend him. you wanted to introduce yourself to him, make a move on him but you couldn't bring so, considering you were so diffident.

aside from that, you just focused on your own matters. whilst your advisor was discussing and pointing subjects at the big television, you and some of your schoolmates wrote some notes and keypoints down.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

but the bell chimed, announcing recess. A few classmates slipped out into the hallway, their chatter fading as the door swung shut. Yet you, Eunchae, Riki, and several others lingered inside.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You remained at your desk, absorbed in your notes, scribbling steadily, unfazed by the call of the break. The classroom felt quieter, the air filled only with the scratch of your pen.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Then, a gentle tap on your shoulder—Riki’s hand—pulled you back from your focus.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" hey, are you going to eat lunch? " he asked.

" oh! u-uh ill eat later! why do you ask? " you reply with a nervous, flustered tone.

" nothing. " he said with an unexpressive look on his face then walked away.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you stared at him whilst he was walking away. confused and starting to question yourself if you had done anything bad or offensive. still, you pushed the thought aside and returned to your notes, pen scratching steadily across the page—until a sudden whisper brushed the air beside you, pulling your attention away.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" hey um, what was that? " eunchae said, voice low enough that only you could hear.

" i-i dont know? that was so random.. " you replied whilst blushing over a small interaction.

" oh really? it really does not look random—girl he likes you!! "

" oh my god eunchae, lets not assume okay? im too dumb and ugly for him to even like me. i bet he has higher standards. " you said.

" girl your not dumb and ugly.. besides i think you both would really suit together! "

" thanks but we really should eat, im staarving " you replied, and both of you headed towards the cafeteria to get some food, you and eunchae both lined up with a plate in hand as you get your turns on getting food.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

both of you sat at a table near where Riki was. as you ate, your eyes kept drifting toward him, noticing how he had caught up with his friends, laughing and talking with ease. you could hear his laugh—low, cheerful, and boyish—spilling into the air, a sound that felt lighthearted yet distinctly his.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" y/n, are you listening? " eunchae tapped your hand and immediately turned your head to eunchae.

" huh? oh sorry, just staring at something " you replied.

" hmm.. okay as i was saying— "

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

as time passed, you and eunchae headed to the next class. while walking toward the room, you unexpectedly saw Riki standing across the hall, his soft eyes meeting yours. for a moment, your gazes locked—until you quickly lowered your eyes and walked into the classroom with eunchae.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

both you and eunchae sat down next to an empy seat, expecting an absent classmate. however, you only focused on your own matters. before class began, you and your classmates had enough time to chit chat, study or write notes down.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

whilst getting your textbook and pens, you and eunchae continued the conversation both of you had in the cafeteria.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" hey y/n, im going to the bathroom. wanna come with me? "

" oh no thanks, im good. ill text you when the teachers here. "

" kay kay, thanks!! "

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you watched eunchae exit the classroom then shortly turned your gaze back to your textbook. highlighting and writing some things down. but unexpectedly, Riki yelled at his friend—leading you curious to glancing at riki and his friends.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" yo! ill text you back for our streak! " riki shouted. his voice deep and loud, the front row of students could hear.

" you better do!! " his friend exclaimed. as riki and her friend grinned at each other.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

a wave of jealousy—but not intense crashed over you. you wanted to have a streak with riki too. you wanted to have his socials. but fuck, you couldn't bring yourself to ask so you just stared at him with an awkward smile as you glanced back at riki and her friend.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" hey, can i get your tiktok? " rikis question came suddenly, as if he had caught the flicker of doubt on your face. but he asked in a kind, deep and low tone only you could hear.

" o-oh! uh sure, can i write it on paper though? " you replied, whilst preventing your flushed feelings from taking over you.

" alright, just write it on my notebook. " riki replied smiling, then grabbed his notebook and pen.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you immediately wrote your username down in a neat handwriting so he could understand. then he pulled back her notebook and pen just after you were done writing.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" pretty username by the way. " riki said whilst smiling.

" oh thanks! " you smiled back then quickly turned to your textbook, heart racing as you tried to stay calm. blushing over a small interaction. but despite that, eunchae has came back from the bathroom, just right after you finished a short, warm conversation with riki.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

aside from all that happend, the class eventually started. your teacher discussing topics, classmates chit chatting and writing some things down. whilst you day dream about how you and riki would look like a couple. how you and him would hold hands whilst walking, cuddle in your bed, or even play games.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

as the time passed by, school hours had slipped away. leaving only the evening ahead. some of your classmates had packed up their bags, exiting the classroom.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

eunchae waited for you outside as you also started packing. whilst packing up your bag, your attention lingered around the classroom as if you were finding someone.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

and there he was, riki. your attention clung to him while he gathered his things in silence. unexpectedly, an impulse surged through you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

making you wanting to ask him if hes free today. you suddenly rethink your choices and words you were going to use. unaware, you suddenly found yourself moving towards riki.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" hi! um, if you dont mind me asking.. are you free today? " you asked, gulping down the nervousness as you tapped her shoulder.

" yeah i am actually, why? " he replied with a voice, charming and deep.

" oh u-um, i was wondering if you could go to the convenience store with me, its just five blocks away.. but i'll treat you though! "

" oh, no dont its totally fine. i'll just come with you " riki spoke, a slight curve forming on his lips into a smirk—one you couldnt take your gaze away from.

" so.. when are we going? "

" oh um, i'll just text someone real quick and we can go "

" aalright " riki replied, as he continued to pack up his bag.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

meanwhile, you returned to your seat, slipped your bag over your shoulder, and pulled out your phone. as you headed toward the doorway, a notification lit up your screen—just as you were about to text eunchae, her message appeared first.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

eunchae ⠀ 2:47 pm | hey babes! sorryy, i had to go first cause mom picked me up and were headed to the mall right now. text me back when you get home safely!

| oh and i texted your mom if we could have a sleepover tonight and she said yes. text me what time you want me to comeover!! love youu!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

whilst reading her messages, a light touch landed on your shoulder, pulling your attention away. It was riki. he stood close—close enough that his warmth brushed against you, close enough to make your heart pulse rapidly. his fragrance lingering in the air between you. Instinctively, you tilted your head upward, he towered just enough to make you look up.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" are we good to go? " he said, with that soft smile of his you couldnt take your eyes off from.

" oh yeah uhm i'll just— text my best friend! " you replied, trying to clear your throat from nervousness.

" sure, i'll gonna wait for you outside. "

" alright! "

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

he smiled at you then started to walk away. you glanced at him for a moment then shifted your gaze back to your phone. you typed on your phone, opened your camera and started to fix your hair before heading out.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

whilst walking towards the exit, you gulped, hoping to steady the rush of warmth as your heart started racing. thoughts started to rush in your mind, thinking of what to say whilst walking towards the convenience store, and how to make it not awkward. but despite that, you already made your way outside the school.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" youu ready to go now? " riki uttered beside you, making you feel a sudden fright.

" yes, but please tap my shoulder next time.. " you replied, clearly amused.

riki chuckled. " mm, okayy.. "

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you quickly walked first, leaving him behind but he immediately caught up beside you and matched your pace. whilst walking, you had this strange feeling. a feeling of being safe, a feeling of relief.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you smiled the whole way just admiring him walking, the way his stride carried a steady lift, almost like a casual rhythm pushing him forward. the way he would keep turning as if he was bored. his hair flowing through the wind whilst the sun lingered through his hair, coloring it golden brown.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

by the time you reached the convenience store, he stepped back, glancing at you as he was letting you go in first. that small gesture sent a flutter through your chest, heat rising to your cheeks as a small grin formed on your lips.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

just as you stepped in, you immediately wandered through the aisles of the convenience store whilst riki followed behind you. at this one shelf, you spotted something that caught your eye but suddenly, riki put his heavy binder in an empty shelf.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

unexpectedly, the shelf toppled, clattering loud enough for the cashier to notice. both you and riki were startled, then broke into quiet laughter.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

he rushed to fix the shelf, fumbling as he struggled. you chuckled at the sight, then crouched down—just enough to meet his height—and helped arrange it back into place.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" i think you should really hurry up buying something .. " riki muttered his voice low enough for only you to catch.

" i am!.. just wait " you replied, you replied, a quiet laugh slipping out—just enough for her to catch.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

just as the shelf was fixed, you headed over to the drinks aisle then opened a fridge. your hand, resting on the fridges handle, keeping the fridge from closing as you scanned the whole fridge looking for a specific drink. whilst scanning,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ riki just stood beside you. glancing over other fridges as if she was also finding anything. but despite that, her gaze always shifted back to you and you can see it from the corner of your eye.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

by then, your eyes finally catched the attention of the specific drink you were finding for. it was just a plain, cold chocolate drink. you grabbed the drink then headed over to the cashier.

whilst waiting in the line, you could feel riki beside you waiting patiently for you, his arms crossed and boredly swinging his handbag left and right whilst looking at each of the aisles.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

time passes by, and it was eventually your turn. you placed your chocolate drink on the counter, then prepared some cash whilst the cashier scanned your item. you paid the cashier, got your chocolate drink then headed outside of the convenience store.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

" soo, are we going home now? " riki said.

" i suppose so.. " you replied , whilst smiling at her.

" alright. im going to catch a bus, are you walking home or.. "

" oh! um, y-yeah im walking home. "

" oh, okay stay safe! "

" thanks, you too! "

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

eventually, the two of you parted ways. still, your eyes lingered on him as he walked away, as if you weren’t ready to let the moment end. memories replayed in your mind—the sound of his laugh, the way he looked at you, the light in his face when the shelf toppled. And then, almost without realizing, you found yourself back home.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

you greeted your mother—then rushed to your bedroom. by the time you got there, you lazily threw your bag on the floor then you lay on your stomach, sinking into the bed’s warmth. you pulled your phone out of your pocket, then unexpectedly—a message lit up your phone. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

_.rikixmn | hii, is this y/n?

y/nxox | hii, yeah its me loll

_.rikixmn | do you perhaps.. like me?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

credits to @uzmacchiato for the dividers !!

bensabrifirildak

SMILE ⋆˚꩜｡ SJY

pairing: student!jake sim x student!fem!reader

synopsis: in which a soft smile jake gave y/n across the lecture hall was the start of her crush. jake was a cute guy, impossible to ignore. y/n always talked about him to her friends, what if jake did the same?

•taglist: open! comment if you wanna be added or removed!

•cw: cursing •the photos i use is just for the idea!!

006 am i the huzz?

previous | masterlist | next

taglist: @roavinza @needywwon @woninlove @cokewithcameron @itsglitt @lilisznq @areikii @hyyhwriter @chocoblogs @clowpjm @sievenderz @enhaxlhs @natainred @rikishu @shaiimuraaa @love4yubin @4myseven @yangw0ni3 @swo07sh @strwbysunoo @dina-10s-blog @bestboileeknow @mfcherry @ni-kimyman4real @jungwonsrealwife1 @naviastime @heestiki @betagalactose @wonuziex @psychicdazestrawberry @amivine @iiunique @ramyeonz2 @satorus-slut @kiuxchb @globaloppaaa @tinyhrry @softblaqn @ghostiiess @starry-eyed-bimbo @isa942572 @jazzygirlengene @rikichus @lovleycherryy @leeknowstoes00 @jay-j4y @missoxy @wonkiipiilled @wvndrls @fushigum1 (50/50)

florecial

false advertisement ..?

—p.sh x f!reader

synopsis; college life definitely isn't cheap— especially when living on campus, so y/n ultimately decides that the quickest way to make money is to sell baked goods. she's amazing at making sweet treats, and it shows-given that she's now known as the best place to get something sweet on campus. sunghoon finally gives in after hearing about her time and time again, but he is not satisfied with his order!! clearly, there was a misunderstanding along the way..

content (warning); mentions of marijuana, cursing(?), all characters are 19-22 in this.. idk.that seems about right.. GUYS IGNORE THE TIMESTAMPS PLEASE😂

01, 02, 03, …

𓏵

svnnw

AFTER HOURS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⌞lee heeseung x reader⌝

fwb!heeseung x reader — part 5

NOTES : SORRY FOR THE WAIT 😓😓 i've been so busy these days but i have a bit more time on my hands this and next week. but i wanted to know if you guys would want me to primarily focus on this story until i'm done or also upload different smaus (i would update after hours slower tho) lmk what you guys think

CHAPTERS — 01 02 03 04 05

taglist (open) — @bmbivan @iiunique @cokewithcameron @yourtmblrgirlfriend @heeseungsfavhoe @nattisbored @mamuljji @stwryun @y1nnyy1n @sarahtarannum @mheretoreadff @phonkdemon @ddolleri @jazzygirlengene @isa942572 @illicithee @gomdoleemyson @jayhoonvroom @house0fballoonz @xoxojisu @sisakoekiee @foreveronez @ariadelilahjade @tojiworshipper @2bamgyu @sagittmistakes @lyzoor @yamzz67 @ikariaces @stwrlightt @seyeolbae @630hee @babylari999 @hyyhwriter @mssishipi @httpsm4tcha @simjaeyunlvrclub @kociluvsatoru @wvndrls @wonzfiles @shaiimuraaa @hopetiger10 @areikii @luzinie @luvv1anime @lilllslayswanderwoodsan (46/50)

yangfoxiee

#Ilovemylife — Lhsgˎˊ˗

Member: Lee Heeseung / EVAN

Summary: Heeseung spotted a really pretty woman at the Han River. Wait... she has a son? And she's not married? Does he actually stand a chance?

Some important points: Heeseung and Yunah are siblings. jungwon, yunah , reader are best friends since before debut of ENHYPEN. Reader has a three year old son. Ft: Yunah of ILLIT

Click here for my Archives

Chapters: 001 / 002

rikiiduck

So let them know how much I love you💋

Bf jungwon x reader

Sypnosis: your bf smothers you in kisses in the elevator after work, he couldn’t care less if people saw him.

Warning: lots of kissing, fluffff

now playing🎧- soft spot- keshi

📍a/n: jungwon version arrivedddd, honestly this is one of my fav hope you enjoy it tooo

The company building was dead quiet by the time the two of you finally wrapped up for the night. You were exhausted, dragging your feet down the polished hallway, but Jungwon seemed to have this strange, pent-up reservoir of energy. He kept bumping his shoulder against yours, a tiny, mischievous smile playing on his lips.

The moment you stepped into the elevator and the metallic doors slid shut, separating you from the rest of the world, Jungwon’s demeanor shifted. He didn’t just step closer—he completely cornered you.

Before you could even press the button for the ground floor, his arm wound tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

"Jungwon, wait," you laughed, your hands coming up to rest against his jacket. "There are security cameras right there."

"Don't care," he mumbled against your skin, already leaning down.

Jungwon loved smothering you in affection, but when he got like this, there was no stopping him. He cupped your face, started at your jawline, peppering soft, rapid-fire kisses that ticked your skin and made you tilt your head back. That was exactly what he wanted. His lips traced a path up to your cheek, pressing deeply into the apple of your smile.

"Won, seriously, what if the elevator stops on the next floor?" you gasped out between giggles, trying to wiggle out of his grip.

"Then whoever gets on is going to see how much I love my girl," he murmured against your lips, his dimples brushing your skin before he finally sealed his mouth over yours.

The kiss was deep, warm, and utterly breathless. Jungwon’s hand moved up to cup the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair to keep you right where he wanted you. Just when you thought he was done, he pulled back a mere fraction of an inch just to look at your dazed expression, let out a soft huff of laughter, and went right back in.

He rained down a relentless barrage of tiny, enthusiastic kisses all over your face. Your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose, your left cheek, your right cheek, and then a heavy, lingering one right back on your lips. By the time the elevator dinged and the doors slid open to the empty lobby, your face was flushed crimson, your hair was a mess, and Jungwon was standing there holding your hand with the most smug, satisfied expression in the world.

jaesim

PURE CHAOS !

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ~pairing: husband! jake x reader ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ - fluff, in which you and jake have a 2 year old son called yejun, reader gets ragebaited, uhh idk what else lmfao i havent proofread this so sorry if there are any spelling mistakes !!

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ it was one of those mornings where absolutely everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. and you were truly being tested to your absolute limits. it all started at 7 am. you were standing in the kitchen, barely awake, waiting for the kettle to boil so you could have a much needed cup of tea before diving into your work for the day.

then the chaos erupted all at once.

jake, who was usually your sweet and helpful husband was apparently a bit too clumsy this morning. he was trying to carry a giant bowl of cereal to the table while checking his phone at the exact same time. his foot caught the edge of the rug, and with a dramatic gasp the entire bowl of milk and sugary flakes went flying. it splashed across the kitchen table, dripping down the legs and puddling onto the hardwood floor.

"oh man!! baby i'm so sorry, it just slipped—" jake started, his eyes wide with pure panic as he grabbed a single completely useless paper towel to stop the milk overflow.

before you could even process the sticky mess, layla decided this was the absolute perfect moment to guard the house. a tiny leaf must have blown past the living room window because layla suddenly burst into a massive series of loud, sharp echoey barks. “woof! woof! woof!” she paced back and forth by the glass, her paws scratching loudly against the floor completely ignoring jake’s frantic commands to hush.

and just to add the final, beautiful cherry on top to the morning craze, a tiny high pitched voice echoed from the hallway bathroom

"appa! APPA!" yejun yelled from the top of his lungs. the two year old was currently sitting proudly on his toddler training toilet afer having successfully completed his morning mission feeling incredibly proud of himself. "appa, clean me! wipe bunny please! APPA! NOW!"

you stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen. milk was dripping onto your floor, layla’s barking was vibrating straight through your skull and your son was screaming for bathroom assistance. for a split second, you felt like your head was going to expode. you closed your eyes, took a deep, steadying breath and let your intelligence kick in before you actually went insane.

you snapped into reality, knowing exactly what to do.

"jake," you said, your voice completely calm but carrying an undeniable authority that made your husband freeze instantly. "drop the paper towel. go wipe our son."

"yes, captain," jake squeaked, immediately dropping the soggy towel and sprinting down the hallway toward the bathroom to rescue yejun.

you then turned your sharp eyes toward the living room. "layla. leave it. come here."

hearing your firm tone, layla immediately stopped mid bark her ears drooping ever so slightly as she trotted over with a guilty tail wag, then ultimately sitting quietly by your feet.

with the barking silenced and the bathroom situation handled you grabbed the actual mop from the cupboard. by the time jake emerged from the hallway holding a freshly cleaned smiling yejun in his arms, you had already wiped down the table and were tackling the floor.

jake looked at you, his wife, his eyes full of absolute adoration. he walked over slowly, letting yejun down so the toddler could go pet layla. he carefully stepped around the wet floor and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist from behind burying his face in your neck.

"you are an actual superhero," jake whispered, kissing your jawline over and over again to make up for his mess. "i don't know how you didn't scream at me."

you let out a long, breathless laugh, your irritation completely melting away as you leaned back against his chest. "trust me, jakey, i wanted to. had to control myself."

yejun toddled back into the kitchen, looking up at his parents with a wide, sweet smile. "mama happy now?" he asked cutely, his little hand patting your leg.

"mama is very happy now, bunny." you smiled softly leaning down to pinch his chubby cheek. it was pure chaos. you needed a nap. a long one.

hoonkitti

shared secret ─ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

best friends who share everything… including their side chick.

𓊆박성훈 & 심재윤& 박종성 x fem reader𓊇 baby, is it me or are you doing something to me? when you smile, it’s shining, but for some reason, you’re lying inside. dangerously, you’re beautiful. you slowly came to me, my dilemma like a habit. ─ baby don't like it, nct127 ⫶ 𐔌masterlist꒱

𓆩♡𓆪 wow hi :< it's been a minute since i wrote + something so long + smut?! + foursome?!?!?! ... i'm super sorry in advance if this is so shit because yk i don't reread my smut and this is genuinely just 10k of filth hahsheahs and i miss u guys so much kisses kisses kisses :x

word count 10k content advisory heavy infidelity/cheating, lowkey polyamory? possessiveness, side chick, jay is a football player, jake is a nerd, toxic relationship, moral ambiguity, hoes before bros or whatever, no one's a good person here, mentioned of underage drinking (1), kinda sunghoon biased i'm so sorry, non proofread! smut advisory foursome (fmmm), very nasty mayne, different sex scenes, squirt, fingering, cum stuffing, oral, fellatio, pussy licking/sucking, lots of making out jesus, dirty talk, profanity, locker room fucking, creampie, cumshot, tit play, jake's in love with your tits and sunghoon can't stop kissing you, flirting, jay's gentler than the others, jake is lowkey a softdom/sub, sunghoon's a hard-dom and mean, use of slut, whore, cumdump etc. doggy style, side-fucking, missionary, creampie after creampie, car sex, hotel sex... might miss out some but pls.

growing up as a trio—jake, sunghoon, and jay always, and always made sure that no secrets are kept from one another. from highschool, and attending the same college, they stuck together like glue—rooming in the same dorm block, sharing the same late–night runs, copying each other’s work despite not taking the same major but shared classes.

they called themselves 02z (and sunghoon always thought that it was corny) and no matter what happened, the rule was simple: no secrets. everything got laid out on the table—the good, the bad, the ugly, and the embarrassing.

and they’d proven it time and time again.

anakinfanclub

knight

superhero!jungwon x regina george!oc

sypnosis ꒱ jungwon wasn’t so popular at school. outside of it, he broke headlines. although battling hardened criminals, there wasn’t anyone he feared more than marin miura; the meanest of the mean. but when she finds out who jungwon rly is in probably the most traumatic way ever, she fights to uphold her ego ;)

warnings/contains ꒱ crack, based in dc universe, crude and suggestive humour, brat tamer jw (U KNOW MEEE), oc is an asshole, jw is a nerd, hes a loser at first, tsundere oc lowk, cocky jw, kissing, hurt/comfort, sarcastic oc & jw

wc ꒱ 11.4k

rose’s note ꒱ IM BACKKK this originally used to be an old blue beetle fic from my abandoned wattpad that i HEAVILY rewrote and had to deal w losing my work like 4 times but enjoy everyone hehe p.s it feels so weird writing ab hs student now that im in uni like i could only make them seniors LOL

lilalines

⋆.˚25 ⋮ ⌗ ┆interview questions | FOREVERMORE

your new favourite comfort angsty - friends to lovers story

────୨ৎ────

pairing — yang jungwon x female idol

status — ongoing ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐

synopsis — For years, Yang Jungwon and Min Miyoung have built their lives side by side, sharing stages, memories, and a friendship that quietly became the center of everything. But when Jungwon learns that Mimi is preparing to leave Korea and return to England, the world he thought was certain begins to fall apart. What begins as panic slowly unravels something far more dangerous - feelings he has spent years trying to ignore. Because losing her might mean losing the person who has always been his home.

content warnings — mostly fluff. feel - good, slow-burn romance type of story. toxic family dynamics, generational trauma, slight implications of EDs and Depression.

forevermore playlist 1221

now playing: look after you, The Fray

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 01:23

April 2024

Mimi:

Hi! I couldn't get through to you. You are probably asleep, right? Let's call tomorrow, Jungwonah.

She felt a little bad because she had made him wait like this, but then she remembered that it would've been impolite towards Juyeon to use her phone once again while being with him. Jungwon would understand — she would've understood too, at least if the roles were reversed and it had been Jungwon going on a date. After hitting send, Mimi put her phone back into her back pocket and hurried home a bit faster, as it was truly getting cold. The only thing she was still holding in her hand was the rose Juyeon had given her.

When she made her way into the apartment building, she finally noticed how tired she was. It was as if all the adrenaline had left her body at once and she even had to lean against the elevator's wall. But she was happy, she truly was. The date had turned out even better than she had expected. After all, Mimi was a person who was more prone to expecting the worst rather than blindly hoping for the best. On the way up, she turned around once to check herself in the mirror, only to see that she even looked visibly tired. Still, she laughed a little at herself. She couldn't believe she had really spent that much time with Juyeon. She didn't regret it though, of course.

The ride ended shortly after and when she stepped out, it was almost 11 p.m. When she stood in front of her dorm, she could already see the lights still turned on through the slit underneath the door, so she mentally prepared herself to be bombarded with millions of questions. If she was being honest, no matter how much she had enjoyed the date, her social battery had completely run out. Maybe that was why she wasn't too upset that Jungwon had already been asleep when she had tried to call him.

Mimi was once again proven correct when she entered her home as quietly as possible. Semi, Bambi and Soomin were still sitting in the living room and seemed to be watching something on the TV, but their attention quickly shifted the moment they heard the door open and close. Bambi was the first to jump up.

"Unnie!" she chanted out and then audibly gasped when she discovered the single flower in her older sister's hand.

The first thing Mimi did was put it into the smallest vase she could find before she ultimately joined her friends in the living room again. If it had been up to her, she would've just gone to bed right away, but she didn't want to leave them hanging either. The three friends were looking at Mimi with the most anticipating expressions she had ever seen, eyes big and round, mouths slightly agape, like three little puppies.

"Stop acting nonchalant!"

Semi was the first to break the silence, of course, and all Mimi did was chuckle and take even more time to sit down calmly.

"I'm not being nonchalant, I'm just tired, Semi."

At this point, it almost seemed like the American girl was more invested in Mimi's love life than her own and it was usually her who had the most exciting date stories to tell. That was probably why she was so bothered by her older sister's silence.

"But he was nice to you, right?" Bambi's eyes seemed to grow almost twice in size as she looked at Mimi with the same impatience as Semi.

"Yes, yes, he was nice. It was a good date!"

"Now isn't that just the driest date review ever?"

Now all four girls filled the room with light laughter, but still, they wouldn't let Mimi off the hook that easily. And although she wasn't too keen on going over all the details, she found herself blushing at the thought of them.

She shared how different Juyeon's world was from their own and how remarkable he was because of that, to say the least, and how much she liked the way he smiled with his eyes whenever he listened to her. Soomin knew that expression on someone's face. She had noticed it in herself too when she had started liking someone. And the barista she had personally met herself and the person Mimi was describing seemed like a great guy for her younger sister. Given the fact that they had more comeback preparations to work on the next day, the girls didn't end up staying in the living room for that long and soon, they were all in bed, resting for the hectic schedules that awaited them.

The next morning, it was Semi who was getting a drink at the company's café, just Semi alone, and she was very pleased to see that Juyeon was the one standing at the counter and looking around somewhat cautiously, as if he was waiting for someone. Semi knew exactly who it was he was looking for and it made her smile grow even wider and filled her with so much excitement that she practically skipped her way up to him.

"Good morning, Juyeon-ssi," she greeted him with her usual friendliness that usually left people a bit startled at first and it was the same with the young barista. Still, he smiled back politely.

"Good morning, Miss Semi. Pleasant to see you," he said in an acting, almost teasing manner and it amused them both equally.

Truly a good choice, Mimi Unnie, Semi thought as she let her eyes wander up and down the slightly older man in front of her.

"So, I heard you took someone very dear to me on a date yesterday. I know this is a very father- or brother-like thing, but since she has neither here right now — you know, with Enhypen on tour, the duty falls to me." Semi put her elbows down on the counter and leaned forward with an unusually serious expression on her small, pretty face. Juyeon leaned forward too after wiping the inside of his hands on his pants out of nervousness, then he looked at her attentively, waiting.

"What are your intentions with my older sister, Juyeon-ssi?" she then asked, eyes piercing through the barista with absolutely no mercy and Juyeon felt as though he was standing in front of a whole court of law instead of just the American idol. Semi kept him hanging onto that thread for a few seconds before she couldn't help herself and burst into laughter. That was just how she was. She loved teasing people, she loved catching people off guard and she loved reactions and right now, Juyeon was giving her all of those.

"I am only joking," she explained and that was finally when he started grinning again as well. Indeed, Semi could even see how he let out a deep breath of relief. And somehow, it only proved to Semi that she didn't have to worry.

"But!" she suddenly shouted, which caused Juyeon to shriek and his smile to disappear immediately. "If you hurt her, I will hurt you." And she wasn't really joking about that and neither was he.

"I cannot predict the future, but Mimi is a really amazing woman and I consider myself grateful to be in her presence," he said with undeniable sincerity and Semi was successfully satisfied. And just when she was about to order her drink, Juyeon suddenly spoke up again.

"There is one thing I was curious about though, if it's okay to ask. It's just about... when you mentioned her brother."

Semi nodded and let out a little humming sound to show him that he could continue.

"She told me yesterday that you guys are very close with Enhypen. Or more specifically, that she is really close with Jungwon-nim."

She nodded again.

"They are not— I mean... they have never? There was never something between them, right?" Juyeon asked hesitantly. He even awkwardly chuckled and scratched the back of his head for a second.

It wasn't really his place to ask such questions because after all, it was him whom she had gone out with. And it wasn't that he was jealous, he was simply curious. Still, he watched Semi's expression change almost dramatically. At first, her eyes widened, then the corners of her lips did too and when she covered her mouth with her hand, that was when she started laughing.

"Jungwonie? And Mimi Unnie?!" she laughed so hard that her stomach started hurting quickly and her eyes squeezed shut and although Juyeon couldn't understand her amusement at first, he found himself laughing as well at how obviously ridiculous his question must have sounded.

"Jungwonie and Mimi Unnie..." Semi repeated again and now she was shaking her head too and when she opened her eyes and saw the confused but amused expression on the barista's face, she quickly apologised.

"Sorry, I'm not making fun of you, I swear. It's just... the thought is so bizarre, it's— well. They are close, yes. So I guess I can see why someone would question their friendship. Even I had to get used to it at first," she admitted after she had finally calmed down from laughing so much. Juyeon simply smiled at her now and nodded. All of his questions had been answered and although he had promised himself he wasn't jealous, he did feel a bit more relieved now. And with that feeling spreading through his chest, he finally cheerfully took her very complicated order. Like always.

← read previous chapter | go to next chapter →

jayflrt

my husband looks fine as hell

mytwinsung

ꉂ`𖦹.‧₊˚ ཐི BUSTED AND BLUE.

𖤝 p. jongseong x reader &&. underground boxer!jay. est. relationship. fluff. cocky jay + worried reader. vague mentions of blood, wounds, violence, etc (nothing major). main masterlist. all content is purely fictional !

you wouldn’t trade your relationship with jay for anything in the world, but you admit you could do without the heart attack you get every time he comes home looking beaten half to death.

“sorry!”

tonight is not so bad as far as his injuries go, but you still wince when he flinches just a little as you hold the damp, warm towel to his split lip.

you swear it hurts you more than him.

enhypens-lola

Enhypen 8th Member au ♡

Lola Lee-James or Lola is the only female and 8th member of Co-Ed group ENHYPEN, working under BE:LIFT Labels. Raking last on I-Land but later being chosen as a producers pick she oficially made her debut with the group on November 30th, 2020 with their Mini Album Border: Day One.

She later debuted as a Solo Artist on January 22nd, 2023, with her debut album Waiting Room.

Ladies and Gentlemen; Lola ♡

★ profile ★ aesthetics ★ family ★ viral moments ★ song covers ★ discography ★ what's in her bag ★ interviews ★

Connections & Interactions ♡

★ relationship with the members ★ idol friends ★ international friends ★ interactions ★ dating ★ staff ★ l+h ★

Social Media ♡

★ weverse ★ instagram ★ youtube ★ tik tok ★ twitter ★ spotify ★ letterboxd ★

Idol Career ♡

★ Dark Moon ★ I-LAND ★ Border: Day One ★ Border: Carnival ★ Dimension: Dilemma ★ Dimension: Answer ★ Manifesto: Day 1 ★ Dark Blood ★ Orange Blood ★ Romance: Untold ★ Romance: Untold - Daydream ★ Desire: Unleashed ★ The Sin: Vanish ★

Other ♡

★ writings ★ taglist ★ credits ★ Lola's 12 Days of Ficmas ★

Enhypens-lola; all work on this blog is created and owned by me. please don't copy, translate, transfer, or claim any of my work without my permission.

kkeongi

Computer troll — Jungwon AU Oneshot ⌕

⌕ pairings : Streamer!Jungwon x Reader!fem

⌕ mini playlist : destroy myself just for you — Montel fish ⑇ not you too — drake ⑇ sundress — A$AP Rocky ⑇ Always — Daniel Caesar ⑇ Transform — Daniel Caesar, Charlotte Day Wilson ⑇ Nothings gotta hurt you baby — Cigarettes after sx ⑇ Almost is Never enough — Ariana Grande ⑇ Maniac — Conan Gray ⑇ higher — Rihanna ⑇ Glimpse of Us — Joji Damned — Miguel ⑇

⌕ a/n : if you’re reading the Jay AU it’s going to be delayed for part 3 because I have no wifi at home and I’m at a library so I’m sorry 😅😅 anyways, enjoy the read!

⌕ WC : 9k-9.3k

⌕ genre : romcom ⌗ slow burn (mild) ⌗ intimacy ⌗ rivalry endearment ⌗ teasing/banter centric ⌗ micro celebrity ⌗ yearning ⌗ heartbreak ⌗

⌕ desc : Jungwon is a variety streamer who is signing a contract under the company you work in as fate decided ‘3rd times a charm’ for both of you but after seeing him, could you still bear seeing his face after a long time?

━━╋━

You have known Yang Jungwon since you were thirteen years old. That is a long time to have someone on your mind. When you think back to grade nine, it feels like a lifetime ago; back then, Jungwon was not glued to his screen every second. His big dreams were silly things he would whisper to you in the quiet corners of the school library.

Now, you are twenty-two. It seems like the universe has a sick sense of humor, because Jungwon’s name is printed clearly on the contract sitting on your desk.

The office is freezing. Maybe it is just the sight of his signature that makes the air feel so thin. You find yourself thinking about how you crossed paths again in university. You both tried to make it work, but the timing was wrong. School was overwhelming, and Jungwon was already looking toward a future that did not include you. Then came that chance encounter on the sidewalk on Christmas night—you still remember how the biting cold turned the tip of his nose red, and how your heart leaped just to see him.

But then New Year's happened. You went to a party together, and suddenly, you were right back to arguing. Jungwon would go completely silent, staring blankly at his phone while you were mid-sentence. It was infuriating. Feeling completely ignored and drained by the treatment, you finally ended things.

Now, here you are, face-to-face with him again. You can hear his voice echoing from the conference room, sounding entirely too confident. You tell yourself to be a professional, to leave the past in the past, but it is nearly impossible when Jungwon is sitting right in front of you, looking incredibly smug and painfully familiar.

You push the door open. The bright light from the window hits Jungwon first. For a split second, he looks exactly like the boy you used to know. Then, he turns to face you, and that familiar smirk crawls back onto his face.

"Third time's a charm, right?" he asks, sounding like he has already won.

You feel a sudden, desperate urge to scream or cry. Outside, the city is a blur of gray rain. Jungwon is back in your life as if he never left, making you realize just how cruel fate can be.

The words hang heavily in the awkward silence. Jungwon hasn't changed at all. He still has that effortless tilt of his head, and his eyes still crinkle at the corners when he smiles. You freeze, your hand anchoring you to the doorknob. Looking at him makes you feel thirteen all over again.

"You're late," you say, fighting to keep your voice steady. It comes out smaller than you intended, so you clear your throat and step fully into the room. The door clicks shut behind you, sounding terrifyingly like a trap.

Jungwon lets out a soft laugh and leans back in his leather chair. He looks entirely too comfortable, drowning slightly in an oversized black sweater that makes him look smaller than he actually is. Yet, his eyes remain sharp, tracking you as if he can see right through your armor.

"The meeting was set for two," he says, casually checking his wrist. He isn't even wearing a watch, he is doing it purely to get under your skin. "It's 2:03."

You drop the folder onto the table, letting it land with a heavy thud. "I had to pull your file from safe keeping. Your team loves to stall on the exclusivity clauses. Which is funny, considering how eager you were to sign the intent form."

Jungwon repeats the words "my team," tasting them slowly on his tongue. He slides his hands out of his oversized sleeves, his fingers tapping a rapid rhythm against the table—a nervous habit he picked up years ago whenever he was bored or anxious.

The conversation continues like a tense tennis match, with Jungwon expertly pushing your buttons while you struggle to maintain your composure. It is exhausting. You feel yourself losing control, fighting a losing battle that apparently started all the way back in grade nine.

I hate him, you tell yourself. Or… — at least, you try to believe it. But deep down, the lingering feelings are still there, and that is what makes this unbearable.

Jungwon’s eyes slowly trace your face. "You look different," he observes. It isn't a compliment. it is just a cold statement of fact. "Your hair is different. You're wearing those shoes."

A surge of annoyance flares in your chest. "Yang Jungwon, please. Let's just focus on the contract."

He flips the page, his thumb catching the edge of the paper. "I'm just saying. You used to hate offices. Remember that? In grade eleven, we skipped chemistry just to sit on the library roof. You told me you'd rather die than wear a blazer. Now look at you."

Your temper finally snaps. "People grow up, Jungwon. They change their minds. They realize that not all big dreams don't pay the rent."

For a fraction of a second, a flicker of something raw flashes in his eyes—anger, maybe, or hurt. But just as quickly, his mask slips back into place, and the smirk returns.

"Right," he says, leaning forward over the table. "Rent. Of course. Silly me for thinking you’d be the same again." He taps the paper sharply. "Where do I sign? Let's get this over with before you start lecturing me about my phone usage again."

You flinch. It is a low blow, even for him. The memory of his phone's screen reflecting in his eyes while you tried to share your day still haunts you. Back then, it felt like you were playing second fiddle to an online audience that didn't even know his real name yet.

"I am not here to lecture you," you reply, reaching into your blazer pocket for a pen. Your fingers feel stiff. "I am here to finalize a contract for a client. If you want to sign without reading, that's your choice. Just don't come crying to my department when you realize you can't multi-stream on other platforms for the next three years."

He scoffs, finally picking up the pen. He doesn't sign immediately, though; instead, he lazily twirls it between his fingers—a habit from his early days of serious gaming.

"My department," he mimics in a mocking, robotic tone. "You sound like you swallowed a corporate textbook. Is this what Jaeyun teaches you guys in the orientation videos? How to sound like a machine so your exes won't recognize you?"

You grit your teeth. Jaeyun was the team lead who hired you—a boss who actually values your work ethic, unlike the person currently taking up all the oxygen in the room.

"Jaeyun expects professionalism. Something you are clearly still struggling with."

"Professionalism is boring," Jungwon counters. Finally, he leans over the paperwork, scrawling his signature with aggressive speed. He slams the folder shut and slides it back across the smooth wood. "There. I am officially yours for the next three years... or the company's. Whichever helps you sleep better at night."

He stands up, and the stark height difference hits you all over again. The scent of his cologne—something expensive and worlds away from the cheap body spray he used in high school—fills your lungs. It is suffocating.

"Sunghoon is hosting a party on Friday," he says, his eyes drifting away to look at the rain-streaked window. "Kazuha and Riki will be there. Probably Jay, too. You should come... or are you too busy being successful and exhausted to see your old friends?"

The way he spits the word friends makes it sound entirely dirty.

"I have work," you mutter, staring at your own dim reflection in the dark computer monitor on the table.

"You always have work," he murmurs. He reaches his hand out, letting it hover near the back of your chair for an agonizing second, before pulling it back and burying it deep inside his sweater pocket.

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving you in a silence so heavy it feels like the ceiling is collapsing. You look down at the contract. His signature is still wet.

You think about Friday. You think about Sunghoon's apartment, the inevitable questions from Chaewon or Yunjin about why you look so tired, and the way Jungwon will probably spend the entire night tucked into a corner with his phone, ignoring you until the exact moment you decide to leave.

It has been nearly a decade since grade nine. You should be over this. But as the rain picks up, drumming a frantic, messy rhythm against the glass, you realize you are still just as trapped as you were at thirteen without wanting to realize.

Third time's a charm, you think bitterly, pulling the heavy folder tightly against your chest. It's just the one that finally kills you.

You trace the elegant loop of the Y in his signature with the tip of your index finger, pulling your hand back instantly as if you've been burned. Stupid. You wipe your finger frantically against your trousers, half-expecting a permanent smudge to remain—a physical mark of him disrupting your neat, scheduled life all over again.

You don't go back to your desk. You sit there in the quiet until the automated lights in the conference room click off, leaving you in the gray gloom filtering through the glass. The rain has intensified, smacking disorganized and violent against the building.

Suddenly, your phone vibrates in your pocket. The brief, sharp buzz makes your chest tighten before you even look at the screen.

Jaeyun: Did Jungwon sign?

You blink at the text. Of course Jungwon signed. He did it just to prove a point—to show he didn't care about the fine print as long as he got to look down at you while doing it.

You: Yes. Exclusivity locked for 36 months. File is on my desk.

Jaeyun: Great. Bring it to the marketing mixer tomorrow night. His management team is flying in from Seoul. Want you there to hand over the brief.

Tomorrow night. You drop your head back against the leather headrest with a groan. The mixer is an industry event, meaning it will be overcrowded and teeming with people pretending to be more important than they actually are. Jungwon will be right in his area of mindset, thriving as the center of gravity, while you stand awkwardly near the catering table trying to look like you belong in a room that costs more than your annual salary.

You leave Jaeyun on read, sliding the phone face-down onto the table.

The rest of the afternoon blurs into a hazy mix of Excel sheets and system notifications your brain simply refuses to process. By 6:30 PM, the office floor is mostly abandoned, save for the cleaning staff wheeling their gray bins down the carpeted aisles. You pack your bag slowly, dragging out the minutes because leaving just means returning to an apartment that is entirely too quiet, where you will undoubtedly obsess over a house party you already know you are going to attend despite your best judgment.

Why do you do this to yourself? You could easily stay home. You could text Sunghoon—except you don't even have his number. You would have to ask Chaewon, and she would immediately see right through you. "Oh, is Jungwon going?"she would ask with that knowing, pitiful tilt of her head.

You absolutely do not want her pity.

The lobby downstairs is drafty. Pushing through the revolving doors, the wind hits you sideways, throwing heavy raindrops straight into your eyes. You don't even have an umbrella; you forgot it on the kitchen counter this morning because you were too busy rereading Jungwon's draft profile at 7:00 AM.

You step onto the pavement, your heels making a dull, wet clicking sound against the concrete. The streetlights are just flicking on, bleeding yellow and neon pink into the growing puddles. It looks exactly like the digital background of one of Jungwon's streams. Everything feels like an extension of him lately.

You walk toward the subway station, head ducked, water already soaking into the roots of your hair, when a sleek black car pulls up short against the curb. It is a heavy, luxurious vehicle with windows that look like mirrors.

The passenger side window rolls down—just a crack at first, then all the way.

Jungwon is sitting in the back seat. The blue light from his phone washes over his chin, casting sharp shadows under his high cheekbones. He isn't looking at you; his thumb is moving in that quick, jerky way it always does when he is reading live chats or checking statistics.

"Get in," he says. His voice is completely flat, barely carrying over the sound of traffic and the heavy rain drumming against the roof of the car.

You halt on the pavement. Water droplets run down your forehead, blurring your vision, but you can see him clearly enough. You can see the stubborn, hard set of his jaw.

"No," you say.

He finally looks up from the screen. His dark eyes reflect the glowing streetlamps behind you. He looks exhausted, too.

"You're going to ruin your shoes," he says, his gaze dropping to your feet before traveling back up to your face. "Don't be stupid. It's pouring."

"I like the rain," you lie, your teeth already clicking together from the chill.

Jungwon lets out a small, mocking scoff. Leaning over, he pushes the door open from the inside. "You've hated it for a long time. You cried when your notebook got soaked after track practice. Get in the car."

It's always right there, isn't it? This massive, clumsy pile of shared history that neither of you knows how to clean up. You stand there for three agonizing seconds as cold water trickles down the back of your collar before you finally give in. You hate yourself the moment you do. Your limbs feel heavy, and the subway station is still three agonizing blocks away.

You slide into the plush leather seat, immediately engulfed by the scent of his crisp, expensive cologne mixed with damp air. You slam the door hard. Entirely too hard.

The car pulls away from the curb instantly, the driver not uttering a single word—likely used to Jungwon’s sudden, erratic stops.

You press yourself as close to the window as humanly possible, leaving a massive, chilly gap of space between the two of you on the bench seat. You refuse to look at him. Instead, you stare at your wet reflection in the glass, your damp hair plastered to your cheeks, looking small and thoroughly miserable.

"Where are you living now?" Jungwon asks, already back to scrolling through his phone.

"The district near the campus," you say, your voice tight and formal. "Just drop me at the station. I can walk from there."

"I'm not dropping you off at a station," he mutters without looking up. "It's out of the way, anyway."

"Then why did you even pick me up?"

The restless scrolling stops. Jungwon slides the device into his pocket, and the back of the car instantly feels smaller and darker without the artificial blue glow. He turns his head toward you, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

"Because you looked pathetic standing there," he says. His voice is remarkably soft, even if the words themselves are sharp. But beneath the bite of his tone, there is a lingering warmth—one that sounds exactly like the boy who used to share his umbrella with you in the ninth grade.

"And because you still don't look at where you're going."

You turn your head to face him, the anger rising hot in your chest, burning out the chill from the rain. "I know exactly where I'm going, Jungwon. I've been doing fine for the last two years without you monitoring my ways."

"Yeah?" He leans in slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Is that why you looked like you were about to faint when you walked into the conference room today? Is that part of your great knowing how to get around things by avoiding them?"

"You're unbelievable," you breathe out, turning back to the window. Your hands are shaking in your lap, so you tuck them under your thighs to hide it.

he mutters, shifting back into his corner. "You're still trying to act like nothing hurts. It's exhausting to watch."

The car goes dead silent again, save for the wipers rhythmic swish-swish against the windshield. You stare at the neon signs of shops blurring past. You want to tell him that he's the one who makes it hurt.

there was no air left for you, but you keep your mouth shut.

But as the car turns down your old, familiar avenue, you realize the air in here feels exactly like it did on New Year's night—thick, unsaid, and heavy.

The silence stretches out, tight and fragile, until the car finally idles outside your building. It’s an old brick place, water running down the rusted fire escapes in thick sheets. You don't wait for him to say anything. You push the door open, step back out into the wet, freezing air, and slam it behind you without looking back. You don't watch the car pull away either, though you hear the tires splash through the pooling water on the asphalt as you fumble with your keys at the lobby door.

Your apartment smells like stale toast and emptiness. You leave your wet shoes by the door and spend the night watching the rain track down your window, the rhythmic sound doing nothing to stop your brain from looping his face over and over. Exhausting to watch. He really thought he knew everything.

Three months later, the rain has turned into a sticky, suffocating mid-summer heat, but the city still feels exactly the same. Dense. Gray. Too crowded for you to never run into the one person you're trying to avoid.

You’re standing in the back of a reception hall, a lukewarm glass of champagne melting in your hand. Minju’s wedding. You’d spent three weeks trying to find an excuse not to come—blaming work, blaming deadlines, blaming a stomach bug that didn't exist—but Minju had been your desk partner in high school. You couldn't skip it. So here you are, wearing a dress that feels slightly too tight around your ribs, watching people you haven't seen in years slow-dance under strings of fairy lights.

"You look like you're plotting a murder," a voice says from your left.

You turn your head. Yunjin is leaning against the pillar next to you, her hair pinned back, holding a plate of half-eaten appetizers.

"Just tired," you say, taking a small sip of the cheap alcohol. It burns your throat. "Work's been brutal."

"Yeah, Jaeyun said they’ve got you running the entire logistics backend for the summer rollout," Yunjin murmurs, her eyes scanning the crowd. "He thinks you're going to burn out. We all do, honestly. You need a vacation."

"Vacations don't pay for renovations," you mutter, nodding toward the newlywed couple across the room. Minju is laughing, her head resting against her husband's shoulder, looking small and secure. It makes something ache deep in your chest—not because you want a wedding, but because you can't even imagine what it feels like to look at someone and not feel a knot of old, unresolved anger tightening in your gut.

"True." Yunjin pauses, her fork hovering over a strawberry. She shifts her weight, her tone dropping into something a little too casual. A little too careful. "You know he’s here, right?"

Your stomach drops before your brain even registers the pronoun. You don't have to ask who he is. There's only one person who requires that specific, warned-off tone.

"I didn't know he knew Minju," you say, keeping your voice flat, even as your eyes automatically start tracking the edges of the room. The bar. The outdoor terrace. The VIP tables near the front.

"He doesn't really," Yunjin says, chewing slowly. "But he’s friends with the groom’s brother. Or something like that. Honestly, with how big his platform got after the spring tournament, people just invite him to things now so they can say he showed up. He brought some girl with him. An influencer, I think. Chat was losing its mind about her last week."

The champagne suddenly tastes like copper. You set the glass down on a nearby tray with a sharp click.

"Good for him," you say.

"You're a terrible liar," she sighs, but she doesn't push it. She taps your shoulder with her knuckles before walking off toward the photo booth where Chaewon and Sooha are waving her over.

You stand there alone for a minute, the noise of the reception turning into a dull roar in your ears. You shouldn't look. You really shouldn't. It’s been three months of clean execution at work—handling his management's emails through third parties, letting Jaeyun take the face-to-face meetings, keeping your head down. You’ve been doing so well.

But then you see him.

He’s sitting at a table near the glass doors leading to the garden. He’s wearing a proper suit this time, dark navy, the collar open and no tie, looking less like a kid playing dress-up and more like the actual adult the media portrays him as. His hair is pushed back, sharp and neat. And she’s right next to him. A girl with sleek, long hair and a laugh that involves a lot of hand-touching on his forearm.

Jungwon isn't looking at her, though. He’s looking at his phone.

Of course he is. His thumb is scrolling, the white screen reflecting in his dark eyes, his face completely blank while the girl keeps talking. It’s the exact same sight from New Year's. The exact same cold, distant wall he builds around himself when he’s bored of the reality in front of him.

You feel a sudden, violent surge of irritation—and something else, something hotter and meaner that you refuse to name. You turn on your heel, intending to find the restroom just to splash cold water on your face, but the crowd shifts, and before you can step away, his eyes snap up from the screen.

Across twenty feet of crowded floor, through the smoke and the flashing cameras and the noise of a hundred conversations, his gaze locks straight onto yours.

He doesn't smile. The smirk doesn't even appear. His fingers just stop moving against the glass of his phone, his jaw tightening as he watches you stand there in your nice dress, looking right back at him. The girl next to him says something else, leaning in close to his ear, and Jungwon deliberately maintains the eye contact for one, two, three seconds before he slowly turns his head to answer her, his hand moving to rest on the back of her chair.

It’s petty. It’s an intentional, silent strike, and it hits exactly where he wanted it to.

You turn away so fast your heel catches on the carpet, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. You walk straight through the side exit, ignoring the heat of the summer night as you step out onto the concrete balcony, the heavy glass door shutting out the music behind you.

The air out here is thick with humidity, the city lights reflecting off the low-hanging clouds. It’s going to storm later. You can feel the static in the air, the heavy, suffocating weight of it pressing down on your skin.

"You still run away when you're mad," a voice says from the darkness near the stone railing.

You freeze.

Jungwon is standing there, a cigarette unlit between his fingers, his jacket unbuttoned. You hadn't even seen him move from the table. Or maybe he’d been out here before you even noticed him inside.

"I'm not mad," you say, your voice shaking slightly before you can stiffen your spine. You walk over to the opposite side of the terrace, putting as much distance between you and him as the concrete allows. "I wanted some air."

"Right." He slips the cigarette into his pocket, his knuckles scraping against the fabric of his trousers. He looks at you through the dark, his expression completely hidden by the shadows of the overhanging roof. "That’s why you looked like you wanted to break my table from across the room."

"Your table looked busy enough without my input," you snap, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You curse yourself internally. Idiotic. You just handed him exactly what he wanted.

Jungwon lets out that dry, quiet breath of a laugh. He takes two steps forward, his leather shoes scraping against the gravel on the terrace floor. "She's an associate from the marketing agency. My manager wanted her there."

"I don't care who she is, Jungwon."

"You do," he says softly. He stops just a few feet away, the heat radiating off him mixed with that familiar, sharp cologne. "You always did that. You get that little line between your eyebrows when you're trying to pretend you don't care, but you're actually furious."

"Don't act like you know me," you say, turning your face toward the dark garden below. Your hands are gripping the stone edge so hard your knuckles are white. "We haven't known each other for two years."

"Nine years," he corrects, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that always makes your throat feel like it’s closing up. "We didn't just start happening two years ago, no matter how hard you try to pretend we were never a thing.."

You snap your head back around to look at him. "What do you want from me, Jungwon? Seriously. You signed the contract. You got the global backing. You have everything you wanted. Why can't you just leave me alone?"

The first heavy drop of rain hits the concrete between you, dark and sudden.

Jungwon looks down at the spot where the water hit, his mouth flattening into a hard line. He looks smaller for a second, the sleek suit and the fame peeling away under the dark sky.

"Because you're still in my way," he mutters, his eyes rising back to yours, dark and completely devoid of the usual smirk. "Every time I look up, you're just... standing there. Looking like you hate me."

"I do hate you..," you whisper.

The sky finally cracks open above the city, a sudden, blinding sheet of summer rain drenching the terrace in seconds. Neither of you moves. The water drops are hitting his hair, flattening the sharp style down into his forehead, running down the line of his jaw and soaking into the collar of his expensive suit. He looks completely ruined. and he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded in the middle of the storm.

"Good," he says, stepping closer until the space between you is gone, his breath hot against your face despite the freezing downpour. "Then keep hating me. Just don't look at anyone else like that."

The summer rain is a solid, roaring wall around the two of you, cutting off the bass of the wedding reception, the clinking glasses, and the rest of the world.

He doesn't give you time to pull away. Jungwon reaches out, his hand coming out of his pocket to cup the side of your neck. His fingers are freezing from the downpour, but his palm is shockingly hot against your skin. He pulls you forward, aggressive and desperate, tilting his head to catch your lips in a kiss that tastes like rainwater and old, bitter history.

It’s not gentle. It’s the peak of years of unsaid words, the friction of two people who have spent a decade spinning in each other's orbits without ever learning how to collide safely. You don't freeze. You twist your fingers into the damp fabric of his navy suit jacket, pulling him closer because your brain has entirely short-circuited. For a split second, the thick weight in your chest lifts. The anger, the exhaustion, the quiet apartment—it all burns away.

Then, his thumb moves.

It brushes against your jawline, a quick, restless, habitual twitch.

The realization hits you like a bucket of ice water, sharper than the storm. Even right here, soaking wet in the dark, holding onto you like his life depends on it.

You tear your mouth away from his, your breathing ragged, and shove his chest with both hands.

Jungwon stumbles back a step, his shoes skidding on the wet gravel. His hair is plastered to his forehead, his lips parted and dark with the rain, looking utterly dazed. "What—"

"Get away from me," you choke out, wiping your mouth with the back of your trembling hand.

"Are you serious right now?" He steps back in, his voice rising over the thunder, a sudden flash of raw frustration breaking through his expressions. "You're the one who was holding onto my jacket like—"

the rain stinging your eyes as you glare through the dark. "You do this every time. You pull me back in because you're bored, or because your manager told you to sit at a table you didn't want to be at, or because you just wanted to see if you still could. And then tomorrow, you'll be back behind a screen, looking right past me."

"That's not what this is," he snaps, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitches beneath the damp skin.

"It is what this is! It’s exactly what it is." You take a step back toward the glass doors, your heels sloshing in the pooling water. The hem of your dress is heavy and ruined, clinging to your ankles. "Go back inside to your associate, Jungwon. Go. I'm going home."

"Don't do this," he says, but he doesn't chase you. He stands under the torrential downpour, his hands dropping to his sides, looking completely hollowed out by the summer storm.

You pull open the heavy glass door, the sudden wave of air conditioning and pop music hitting your face like a physical blow. You don't look back to see if he's watching. You push through the crowd of wedding guests, ignoring Yunjin's confused look as you blow past the photo booth, and head straight out into the night to find a cab.

By autumn, the city has dried out, the heavy summer humidity replaced by a crisp, biting wind that smells like dead leaves and exhaust fumes.

The logistics backend for the winter rollout has taken up every single hour of your life. Your desk is a disaster of spreadsheets, and you've taken to ordering takeout to the office three nights a week just to avoid going back to an empty apartment before midnight. It’s a clean, distant routine. You don't check his streaming notifications anymore. You blocked the official platform alerts on your personal phone, forcing everything through the corporate server so you only see his name when Jaeyun signs off on a tournament budget.

"Hey," Jaeyun says, knocking lightly on your open cubicle door. He’s holding two paper cups of coffee. "You look like a zombie. When was the last time you went outside during daylight?"

"Tuesday," you say without looking up from your monitor. "Maybe Monday. What's the status on the Seoul broadcast relay?"

Jaeyun sighs, setting one of the cups on the corner of your desk. "The relay is fine. The talent management, however, is being a pain. Yang's team is disputing the autumn analytical metrics. They think the platform is throttling his discoverability in the European region."

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard. You take a slow, deliberate breath, keeping your voice perfectly steady. "The contract states the European market is subject to regional licensing laws. Section eight, paragraph three. Send them the PDF and tell them to read it."

"I did," Jaeyun says, rubbing the back of his neck. "His manager wants a live audit. And since you're the lead on the backend data..." He trails off, looking genuinely apologetic. "They're coming into the main hub tomorrow at three. I need you in the presentation room."

You close your eyes for a brief second. "Can't Sooha take it?"

"Sooha doesn't know the regional architecture like you do," Jaeyun says gently. "Look, I know it's awkward with him. But it's a ten-minute data overview, and then they're out the door. Just be the robot you always are."

"Fine," you mutter, finally looking up and taking the coffee. "Three o'clock."

The next day, you don't wear a blazer. You wear a thick, oversized cream sweater—something that feels like armor, something that looks absolutely nothing like the corporate uniform he mocked three months ago. You keep your hair tied back in a neat, severe bun.

When you walk into the presentation room at 2:58 PM, the lights are already dimmed for the projector.

Jungwon is already sitting there. He’s not in a suit today. He’s back to his usual look—a gray hoodie with the hood down, dark jeans, and his fingers moving across his phone under the edge of the table. His manager, an older man with graying hair and a sharp tailored coat, is shuffling through papers next to him.

"Ah, the data lead," the manager says, looking up with a polite smile. "Thank you for taking the time."

"Of course," you say, your voice smooth and hollow. You don't look at Jungwon. You step up to the podium, plug your laptop into the console, and bring up the regional server logs on the massive wall monitor. "Let's look at the European distribution."

For ten minutes, you speak in pure data. You break down everything. Your voice doesn't waver once. You point to the graphs, explaining each slide. The manager nods along, taking notes, completely satisfied.

Throughout the entire thing, Jungwon doesn't say a word. He doesn't even look at his phone. He just sits there in the dim light of the projector, his chin resting on his fist, his dark eyes fixed entirely on your face as you speak.

"Well, that clears up the discrepancy," the manager says, standing up and extending a hand toward you. "We appreciate the clarity. Jungwon, we need to head to the studio for the pre-production meeting."

"Go ahead," Jungwon says, his voice cutting through the room, low and heavy. "I need to get a copy of the raw file from her anyway. I'll meet you in the lobby."

The manager glances between the two of you, senses the immediate shift in the air pressure, and quickly gathers his things. "Right. Don't be late."

The door clicks shut behind him.

The projector hums, casting a bright blue light across the corporate table, throwing long, distorted shadows against the back wall. You don't look at him. You click through your laptop, hitting eject on the external drive, your movements quick.

"You're doing it again," Jungwon says from the darkness of the table.

"I'm downloading your file," you say, your eyes fixed on the progress bar on your screen. "It'll take two minutes."

"You didn't look at me once during that entire presentation." He stands up, his chair scraping loudly against the carpet. He walks around the long table, stopping just outside the circle of light from the projector. "You looked at my manager. You looked at the wall. You looked at the floor. Not at me."

"I was presenting data to a client, Jungwon."

"Stop calling me that," he says softly, his voice dropping that professional distance entirely. "You sound like a recording."

"That's what I am here," you say, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. In the blue light of the screen, his face looks sharp, older, the faint purple shadows under his eyes more prominent than before. "I'm the platform representative. You're the talent. That's the only version of us that functions without someone breaking something."

Jungwon takes a step closer, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his gray hoodie. He looks down at your laptop, then back up to your face, his mouth setting into that familiar, stubborn line.

"I tried to delete the live feed app from my phone last month," he says suddenly.

The admission hangs in the quiet room, strange and heavy. You look at him, your hand pausing on the laptop lid.

"Why?" you ask, your voice losing a fraction of its defensive edge before you can stop it.

"Because every time it buzzed, I kept hoping it was a notification from an email address that didn't have a company domain attached to it," he mutters, looking away toward the blue light on the wall. He lets out a short, rough breath. "It didn't work. My team reinstalled it three days later because of a sponsor lock-in."

He steps right up to the podium, his shoulder nearly brushing yours, the faint scent of that expensive cologne hitting you again—but under it, there's just the smell of rain and cold autumn air from the street outside. He reaches out, his fingers hovering over the corner of your laptop, not touching you, but close enough that you can feel the heat of him.

He tries to utter a word but instead his eyes drop to your mouth for a split second before rising back to your eyes, dark and completely serious.

"Jungwon—"

"Here's the file..," Jaeyun's voice says as the heavy door suddenly swings open.

The light from the hallway floods the room, bright and sterile, instantly breaking the shadow between you. Jaeyun stops in the doorway, a thumb drive in his hand, looking between you and Jungwon with an immediate, awkward realization.

Jungwon doesn't flinch. He just slowly pulls his hand back, sliding it into his pocket as he turns toward the door.

"Thanks, Jaeyun," Jungwon says, his voice instantly dropping back into that smooth, effortless tone he uses for the public. He takes the drive from Jaeyun's hand, gives you one long, unreadable look over his shoulder, and walks out into the bright white corridor without another word.

The door clicks shut. The projector hums in the sudden quiet, the blue light fading as your laptop goes into sleep mode.

The sudden silence of the presentation room feels less like peace and more like a drop in cabin pressure. You stand behind the podium, your fingers still hovering over the cold plastic keys of your laptop, staring at the empty space where he stood.

Jaeyun doesn't ask. He’s smart enough, and tired enough, to just clear his throat, mutter something about an executive meeting on the sixth floor, and let the heavy wood door click shut behind him again.

You sink slowly into the nearest leather chair, the dim blue light of the idle projector washing over your face.

It’s always like this. A decade of short-circuits. You spend months building walls out of Excel sheets, metrics, and data logs, convincing yourself that you’ve finally outgrown the ghost in your head. You tell yourself you're an adult now, someone who handles logistics, someone who doesn't cry when things get ruined. And then he speaks—mentions a library roof, or confesses to a deleted app—and the foundation crumbles instantly. You’re left standing in the debris, furious at him for knowing exactly which brick to pull to make the whole thing collapse.

You don't finish your shift. For the first time since Jaeyun hired you, you leave at 4:30 PM, abandoning a half-mapped regional layout on your screen.

By 9:00 PM, the autumn wind outside has turned vicious, rattling the loose pane in your kitchen window. Your apartment is dark, the weak amber glow of the streetlamps cutting through the blinds. You’re sitting on the counter, a glass of water sweating against your palm, watching the dust specks dance in the light.

You’re tired. Not the kind of tired that a good night’s sleep fixes, but the deep, marrow-deep exhaustion of fighting a losing battle against your own memory.

You look at your phone resting on the laminate counter. The corporate block is still active. But your personal contacts aren't. You haven't deleted his number. You never did. It’s just been sitting there, a dormant string of digits under a name you haven't typed into a text box in two years.

Your thumb hovers over the glass. You think about the rain on the terrace, the way his hand felt against your neck, and the terrifying realization that no matter how much you claim to hate him, the alternative is just a vast, gray emptiness. You want to ruin it. You want to break the cycle entirely so there's nothing left to salvage, nothing left to yearn for.

You type a single line. No greeting. No explanation.

You: Come over. If you're alone.

You don't even have time to set the phone down before the screen lights up.

Jungwon: Address.

You send the pin. Ten minutes pass. Then twenty. Your heart is knocking against your ribs, a dull, rhythmic thudding that feels identical to the nerves you had before track practice in grade ten. It’s a terrible idea. You know it’s a terrible idea.

When the buzzer down in the lobby rings, the sharp sound makes you flinch. You click the release button without using the intercom.

A minute later, there’s a low, heavy knock on your apartment door.

When you pull it open, Jungwon is standing in the dim hallway. He’s still wearing the gray hoodie, the fabric damp around the shoulders from the mist outside. His hair is slightly messy, falling into his eyes, and he looks out of breath, like he took the stairs instead of waiting for the old elevator.

He doesn't say anything. He just steps across the threshold, and the moment the door clicks shut behind him, his hands are on you.

It’s completely different from the terrace. There is no performance here, no audience to maintain. He pulls you against his chest, his mouth finding yours in the dark entryway with a desperate, heavy hunger that cuts off your breath. His hands slide under your oversized sweater, his palms rough and shockingly hot against your bare waist, lifting you slightly until you're forced to wrap your legs around his hips.

You trip backward into the short hallway, your back hitting the wall with a dull thud that rattles the cheap frames hanging there. You don't care. You pull at the hood of his sweater, bringing him down into you, burying your face in the crook of his neck where the scent of the cold autumn wind is still clinging to his skin.

It’s a jumbled, silent rush. He carries you into the bedroom, both of you tumbling onto the unmade sheets in a tangle of limbs and discarded layers. The gray hoodie hits the floor, followed by your cream sweater.

In the shadows of the room, stripped of the suits and the lacings, he feels exactly like he did when you were younger—frenetic, intense, and entirely focused on you. His fingers lock through yours, pressing your hands into the mattress, his lips tracing a path down your jaw to the hollow of your throat. Every touch feels like an eviction of the last two years of silence. You let yourself drown in it, letting the heat of his skin burn out the solemn, cold reality of your office life, matching his pace until the room is nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and the wind scraping against the glass outside.

For a few hours.

At 4:45 AM, the room is freezing.

The pale, gray light of dawn is just beginning to bleed through the edges of the blinds, turning everything a sickly, washed-out blue.

You wake up slowly, the chill of the apartment settling into your bare shoulders. You shift against the pillows, expecting the warmth of his back, but your hand hits cold, empty fabric.

You open your eyes.

Jungwon is sitting on the edge of the mattress, his back to you. The room is quiet enough that you can hear the faint, rapid click-click-click of his thumb against a screen.

The blue light from his phone is casting a sharp, metallic glow over his profile, carving out the line of his jaw and the cold, focused expression in his eyes. He’s already dressed in his jeans and a fresh t-shirt. On the screen, tiny blocks of text are scrolling past at a dizzying speed—live norms, agency emails, schedule notifications for the winter tournament.

The world has crawled back in before the sun is even up.

He notices you move, his thumb pausing on the glass for a fraction of a second, but he doesn't turn around. He doesn't slide the phone into his pocket.

"My manager is picking me up at five," he says, his voice low and scratchy from sleep, but entirely flat. Entirely professional. "We have an early broadcast test for the European relay."

You lie there, the sheet pulled up to your chin, watching the blue light bounce off his shoulder blades. The heat from an hour ago feels like a hallucination. The intimacy hasn't fixed anything— it just proved that the boundaries are exactly where you left them.

"Okay," you whisper. Your voice sounds dead. Empty.

Jungwon stands up, finally slipping the phone into his back pocket, though his hand stays near the fabric. He looks down at you through the gray gloom, his expression unreadable, masked by the person he has to be for the rest of the day.

"The file data was clean, by the way," he mutters, reaching down to grab his gray hoodie from the floor. "Jaeyun said your backend logs are the best they've had all season."

He walks out of the bedroom. A moment later, you hear the heavy click of your front door locking from the outside, followed by the faint, distant echo of his footsteps heading down the stairwell.

You turn over, pulling his pillow into your chest. It smells like him—crisp, expensive, and completely out of reach.

You wanted to ruin it. You wanted to break the cycle so it wouldn't hurt anymore. But as you watch the gray morning light slowly fill the room, highlighting the empty space beside you, you realize you didn't break anything at all. You just gave him one more memory to haunt you with for the next thirty-six months.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Months pass, and the autumn chill turns into a long, quiet winter.

The contract keeps you tied together, but you both learn to build new walls. The frantic texts and the sudden confrontations stop. Instead, you enter a strange, quiet routine.

Every few weeks, when the silence in your apartment gets too heavy or his screen gets too bright, one of you will send a single text. A time. An address. There are no explanations, and there is never any talking afterward. He arrives in the dark, and he is always gone before the sun comes up. It is simple, rational, and completely temporary. A mutual understanding that you are both just using each other to escape the loneliness for a few hours.

During work hours, things change too.

You still see him on the corporate server logs, and you still have to attend the occasional data audit with Jaeyun. When you are in the same room, the sharp, angry banter from before starts to fade. He doesn't mock your clothes anymore.

Instead, he sits quietly. He answers your questions with short, polite nods.

When he does speak, his voice is flat, matching your professional tone perfectly. To anyone else in the room, it looks like you are finally just two adults who have learned to do their jobs.

But sometimes, when you are busy explaining a data graph on the wall projector, you can feel his eyes on you.

Jungwon stays quiet, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, but his gaze doesn't leave your face. The ruinous smirk is entirely gone. He watches the way you breathe, the way you pull your hair behind your ear, and the way you look everywhere in the room except at him.

He is falling all over again, and he knows it. He knows it’s a losing game, so he hides it behind a blank expression or the simple teasing he does but not as much. He doesn't say a word, because he knows that the moment he lets the professional mask slip, you will run away again or the cycle will start again.

So, you both keep playing your parts. You give him the data, he gives you the streams, and in the quiet spaces between the text messages, you pretend that the history between you isn't slowly burning you both alive.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

By late winter, the cold has settled into the bones of the city, and the silence between you has become a heavy, physical thing. Jungwon is better at his job than ever, but worse at being human. He spends more time in front of the lens, his face broadcast to thousands, while his real life remains a series of quiet, empty rooms.

In the office, the air shifts whenever you walk by. He doesn't call out to you anymore, but his body language speaks for him. When you stand at the coffee machine talking to a junior designer—laughing at a joke that has nothing to do with gaming or data—Jungwon’s thumb stops mid-scroll. He doesn't look up, but his jaw tightens, and the light of his phone reflects in eyes that look suddenly very dark and very tired.

He hears your laugh and realizes it’s a sound he hasn't heard directed at him in months. It bites at him, a sharp, subtle jealousy that he has no right to feel. He is the one who chooses the silence. He is the one who leaves before dawn.

One Tuesday, you are in a glass-walled meeting room with Jaeyun and a new consultant from the Seoul office. The consultant is young, bright, and he keeps leaning toward you, his hand brushing yours as you point at a spreadsheet. Through the glass, Jungwon is walking toward the elevators, surrounded by his management team.

He stops.

For a heartbeat, he ignores his manager's voice. He watches the way the consultant smiles at you, and the way you don't pull your hand away immediately. Jungwon’s fingers curl into a fist inside his hoodie pocket. He wants to walk in there and break the professional glass. He wants to remind you of the way your breath hitched in his ear at 3AM, or the way you used to hide in the library with him when the world felt too big.

But he does nothing. He can't. He has built this cage himself, brick by brick, just to keep himself distracted.

He turns away and steps into the elevator, the doors sliding shut on his reflection. He pulls out his phone, his thumb moving automatically to check his latest stream metrics, but he isn't reading the numbers. He is just waiting for the next time his phone vibrates with a location and a time—the only moments he feels like he isn't a ghost in his own life.

He is yearning for a "forever" he already threw away twice, and the third time is proving to be the most painful of all.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

The next time the phone vibrates on your counter, it isn't you who typed the message.

Jungwon: I’m downstairs.

You don't look at the clock. You just hit the buzzer, your chest tightening as the heavy click of the lobby door echoes through the intercom. When he reaches your floor, he doesn't knock. He waits for you to turn the handle, and you do… he steps right into your space

There is no hesitation this time. Jungwon doesn't wait for the dark of the bedroom or the safety of the shadows. He catches your waist with both hands, his grip firm and urgent, pulling you against him until there is no air left between you. His mouth finds yours with a sudden, burning intensity that makes your knees go weak. It isn't the cold, detached touch of the past few months. It is entirely raw.

He presses you back against the closed door, his fingers tangling into your hair, tilting your face up so he can kiss you deeper. You can feel the rapid, frantic beat of his heart against your ribs. He is breathing like a man who has been underwater for months and has finally found the surface.

"Jungwon," you breathe out against his lips, trying to find your footing, trying to find the wall you built.

"Don't," he mutters, his voice cracked and low. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips pressing hot, desperate kisses against your skin. His hands are shaking against your back. "Don't tell me to leave. Not tonight."

The quiet ache that has been sitting in your stomach all winter turns into something sharp and overwhelming. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you, letting the pretense drop. If this is a mistake, it is a spectacular one.

He carries the weight of the silence into the bedroom, but everything about the way he moves has changed. He doesn't look away. In the dim light of the room, his eyes stay fixed on yours, dark and completely unguarded. Every touch is slow, deliberate, and full of a quiet, heavy desperation. When his fingers lock with yours against the mattress, he doesn't let go. He holds on tight, his thumb tracing the back of your hand over and over, as if he is trying to imprint the feel of your skin into his memory.

It is intimate in a way that hurts. He isn't escaping the world anymore; he is entirely present, giving you every ounce of the focus he usually splits among thousands of strangers. You feel the heat of him, the heavy rhythm of his breathing, and the sudden, terrifying realization that he has stopped running.

When the pale morning light finally begins to track through the blinds, turning the room a soft, quiet gray, the usual routine breaks.

You wake up feeling the steady warmth of his arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He hasn't dressed. He hasn't reached for his phone. The device is sitting face-down on the floor, completely ignored.

Jungwon is awake, his chin resting lightly against your shoulder. He watches you open your eyes, his grip tightening just a fraction, refusing to let the dawn create the usual distance between you.

"You usually leave," you say, your voice small and rough in the quiet room.

"I'm staying," he whispers. His breath is warm against your ear, his voice carrying a heavy, settled certainty that you haven't heard since you were teenagers. He shifts, leaning over you so you are forced to look at him, his dark eyes clear and completely focused on your face. "I'm not going back to the studio early. I told them to reschedule."

You stare up at him, your heart doing that old, painful skip. "Jungwon, the rollout—"

"I don't care about the rollout," he interrupts softly, his fingers reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair away from your forehead. His touch is lingering, gentle, and completely devoid of the professional distance he used at the office. "I've spent two years pretending I could look past you. I can't. I'm tired of the silence."

He leans down, pressing a slow, bruising kiss to your lips—it feels heavy but completely real. He isn't hiding away anymore. He is right here, completely yours in awhile.

⌕ taglist

➜ None of my work is related to the real person. It’s all fictional.

My archieved

anlovn

Maybe we should’ve talk… ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚| 양정원

˚⟡˖ ࣪ yang jungwon x reader ˚⟡˖ ࣪

smau. friends with benefits. accidental pregnancy

In which : what if you get pregnant by your best friend? part 1 ﾟ ꒰ঌ ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ ໒꒱ ﾟ

contents & tw: mention of sex, strong language, accidental pregnancy, angst, pregnancy, fluff, humor, jealousy, social media au, friends with benefits, sexual references, suggestive content, MDNI

with: sunoo, ni-ki (enhypen), eunchae (le sserafim)

Copyrights © [anlovn] 2026 : All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate or republish my work on other platforms without my written permission. This story is my creative work. Please respect the effort put into it—no reposting, translating, or 'inspiration' without credit. Let's keep the community creative and kind!

@rikisblog @aerrdeicall @sisakoekiee @ynnii

Hmmm yeah i like it…🥰

What yn gonna say…?

je0nji

༺𖦹𖣘⍟

je0njis masterlist;

ఌ

───────오위맇비아 ☆彡 welcome to my archives ! this page contains links to all of my posts and writings. MDNI - minors do not interact, please read all warnings and tags before engaging.

🧞‍♀️= completed 👛 = ongoing 💝 = soon

ONE SHOTS / SERIES ༻ ༺

01. PARAMOUR — park sunghoon 👛

most best friends like to watch movies together, eat good food together, party together, gossip about everybody you know together— and although you and sunghoon do all those things, there’s one more thing that you think bring you two closer together than any other bestfriends.

02. BROKEN WINDOW SERENADE — nishimura riki 💝

coming soon …..

SMAU’S ꧂

01. CORTIS GROUPCHAT 👛

negative six seven — 01.

nikidikiy

NISHIMURA RIKI MASTERLIST

this is only a master list for NISHIMURA RIKI i have my whole enhypen master list here

SHIRTLESS — seeing niki shirtless for the first time

MORNING LIGHT — a sober morning with your bf

WORKOUT ON NIKI — workout on top of him leads to a heavy make out session

OBSESSED — riki is obsessed with you especially your lips

HOW TO SKATE — your best friend teaching you how to skate but he also taught you how to fall in love with him even tho he’s the one who fell first

EYES DONT LIE — your ex still yearns for you, coming over that night he showed you how much he still loves you

YEARN FOR YOU — the bad boy in school? you’d never know how much he yearns for you until he actually shows it

I LIKE YOU — your brothers best friend knows you’re off limits and even while having a boyfriend, tho as soon as he saw an opening he took the risk

MY LITTLE BOY — smau texts with your bf tho he’s needy

BRA STRAP — not knowing what the bra strap on someone’s wrist meant until you gave one yourself to your boyfriend and he showed you the real meaning

LOVE IS A DRUG — niki being a dead man without you, but when he sees you he’s on his knees begging for you to come back, and you do

TEXTS WITH YOUR NONCHALANT BF

BLONDIE — you caused trouble in that shirt dress during a party and he fucked you through the mattress afterwards

KISS ME — youre out w ur husband and pregnancy cravings got you craving ice cream, staining your mouth with it he kissed it away and makes him go crazy

: @maishee @kimmsunooo @rikishima88 @ariekas @afanok @memorab1lia @engenewilstaykon @enhypendata @arelyvn @ineedjaeyun @lovelee-evan @prettybs @unknown-y-person @y-riene @yjwexe @woninlove @bensabrifirildak @shaiimuraaa @heeluv4ever

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Kristyynaah