> last updated: 06/20/26
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enhypen masterlist
𝙇𝙀𝙀 𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙎𝙀𝙐𝙉𝙂
→ waiting room 💌🔞💣💣🍀🏆 pairings: heeseung x female reader // genre: college friends to lovers, fluff. smut, this fic was inspired by the song waiting room by phoebe bridgers. w/c: 21k
→ girlfriend simulator 💌🔞🍀💣 pairing: heeseung × fem!reader // genre: fantasy; romcom; fluff; comedy; light sci fi; college au; game simulator; slow burn; smut (mdni). w/c: 37k
→ before we were strangers 💌🔞🍀pairing: heeseung × fem!reader // genre: heeseung as your ex, slice of life, angst, childhood friends to lovers, long distance relationship, non-linear. w/c: 16k
→ the sweet escape 💌🔞📓 pairings: bowser! heeseung x princess peach! reader | genre: mario bros au, smut (mdni!!), i would say crack fic bc come on, cheating, rivals to lovers, pwp, secret relationship | w/c: 5k
→ see you at the movies 📱⏰ pairings: heeseung x female reader // genre: social media au (smau), fluff, crack, strangers to lovers, movie theatre au.
→ gameboy 📱 🗞 pairing: pro player! heeseung x fem! reader // genre: smau (social media au), fake texts, situationship, one shot, player!heeseung
𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙅𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙎𝙀𝙊𝙉𝙂
→ just like heaven // part 1 & part 2 💌 🔞 pairings: brother's best friend!jay x female reader // genre: 80s/90s au, childhood friends to lovers. w/c: 21k in part 1 and 15k in part 2
→ that's what you get 📱📝 ft. jake pairing: rockstar!jay x reader x rockstar!jake | genre: social media au (smau), love triangle, strangers to lovers, bit angsty, rockstar au, jay and jake are bandmates, jake is reader's ex
𝙎𝙄𝙈 𝙅𝘼𝙀𝙔𝙐𝙉
→ nicest guy 📱🔞💌💣💣🍀 ft. sunghoon pairings: jake x fem!reader x sunghoon // genre: social media au (smau), fluff, crack, smut | synopsis: you decide to go to your first college party after two years, and after having to take care of two different drunk men, your college life changes drastically.
→ that's what you get 📱📝 ft. jay pairing: rockstar!jay x reader x rockstar!jake | genre: social media au (smau), love triangle, strangers to lovers, bit angsty, rockstar au, jay and jake are bandmates, jake is reader's ex
→ manchild 🔞💌💣💣 pairings: cowboy!jake x fem!reader // genre: cowboy au, strangers to lovers, smut \ w/c: 9.5k
→ responsible guy 🔞💌💣💣 pairing: coworker!jake x fem!reader // genre: coworkers to lovers; smut (mdni!); romcom // w/c: 13k // this fic is part of the man's best friend collab!
→ i don't wanna be just friends 🔞💌💣💣 pairing: jake x fem!reader // genre: smut (mdni!!), friends to lovers, college au, slowburn-ish // w/c: 28k
→ aw shit, here we go again 🔞💌 pairing: jake × fem!reader | genre: friends with benefits; college au; romcom; slow burn; situationship dynamics; mutual pining; smut (mdni) | word count: 32k
𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉
→ nicest guy 📱🔞💌💣💣🍀 ft. jake pairing: jake x fem!reader x sunghoon // genre: social media au (smau), fluff, crack, smut | synopsis: you decide to go to your first college party after two years, and after having to take care of two different drunk men, your college life changes drastically.
→ how i met sunghoon 🔞💌💣💣🍀 pairing: downbad!sunghoon x fem!reader // genre: romcom, friends to lovers, slow burn, smut, crack // w/c: 28k
𝙆𝙄𝙈 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙊𝙊
→ coming soon!
𝙔𝘼𝙉𝙂 𝙅𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙒𝙊𝙉
→ night changes 💌 pairing: jungwon x fem!reader // genre: stranger things au, romcom, mystery, slowburn, strangers to lovers, 70s au, paranormal // wc: 22k
→ just my luck 💌🔞 pairing: jungwon x fem!reader // genre: luck swap au, romcom, fluff, crack, strangers to lovers, slowburn, roommates to lovers; smut (mdni) // word count: 33k
→ jungwon text's as your brother (nicest guy spin off) 📱🗞
𝙉𝙄𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙈𝙐𝙍𝘼 𝙍𝙄𝙆𝙄
→ 717 amortentia 💌 pairing: slytherin! niki x gryffindor!fem!reader // genre: hogwarts au, enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers // word count: 21k words
enhypen smau masterlist
── coworkers to lovers series: heeseung | jay | jake | sunghoon | jungwon
── .✦ when enhypen steals your food── .✦ enhypen x latina girlfriends── .✦ enhypen texts after your first kiss── .✦ enhypen when you're interested in league of legends── .✦ enhypen ways of saying they miss you── .✦ enhypen reacting to your new ig post── .✦ did you break up with him yet? (enhypen as your ex)
── .✦ stop using my account! (enhypen as your ex)
txt masterlist
𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙄 𝙔𝙀𝙊𝙉𝙅𝙐𝙉
→ your heart got teeth 🔞⏰ pairings: mafia!yeonjun x female reader // genre: enemies to lovers, yeonjun as your childhood bsf, mafia au!! smut, yeonjun is mafia leader and reader too. w/c: 28k
𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙄 𝙎𝙊𝙊𝘽𝙄𝙉
→ 1980s horror film 🔞💌🏆 pairing: soobin x bi!fem!reader // genre: smut, slowburn, friends to something, power play, pwp // w/c: 15k
𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙄 𝘽𝙀𝙊𝙈𝙂𝙔𝙐
→ scott street 💌🍀📓 pairings: beomgyu x female reader // genre: childhood friends to lovers, beomgyu as your ex, romance. this fic was inspired by the song scott street by phoebe bridgers w/c: 3.3k
→ out of tune // part 1 // part 2 // part 3 💌🔞 pairings: producer! beomgyu x female reader // genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, smut on part 3. // w/c: 27k in part 1 and 26k in part2
→ pairing: downbad!sunghoon x fem!reader // ִromcom· friends to lovers · slow burn · smut ࣪· crack → synopsis: sunghoon was always the kind of guy who fell too hard, too fast, the type who thought a shared playlist meant commitment and that liking the same sandwich was fate. spoiler: it never worked out. well, that’s until you showed up. he didn’t mean to fall for you. you were just his friend. the funny, smart, annoyingly pretty friend. it wasn’t supposed to turn into heart flutters and late-night guitar practice. but somewhere between friendly teasing, shared drinks, and the world’s longest friendzone, sunghoon realized he might actually be in love. oops!
→ word count: 28k // warnings: mdni!! contains explicit content, praising kink, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, switch dynamics, dirty talk / explicit language, face riding
sunghoon was always that type of hopeless romantic guy. not in a write a poem under the rain kind of way, but he used to believe in signs: like if a girl knew all the words to a blink-182 song, she was definitely his soulmate. one time in college, he thought a cashier was in love with him because she gave him an extra ketchup packet. another time, he made a mixtape for a girl he barely knew just because she said she liked the strokes. he even labeled it “volume 1,” fully expecting a relationship to follow. it didn’t.
he was that guy who said “i miss you” before it made sense and thought hand-holding in public was sacred. the guy who overanalyzed text punctuation. the guy who once bought matching mugs after a fourth date because she laughed at his seinfeld reference. spoiler alert: she ghosted him the next day, and he kept the mugs anyway. because love, right? yeah, that’s it. that was sunghoon.
well, until he met you.
but, before he met you, sunghoon was stuck in that loop of almosts and maybes and "it’s not you, it’s me" texts sent at 2 a.m. he had a tendency to turn background characters into main characters in his head. if someone asked for directions on the subway, he’d spend the next hour wondering if he should’ve asked for her number. maybe she liked coffee shops. maybe they could’ve gone to the one on 8th street. maybe they would’ve fallen in love over cappuccinos and sarcasm. maybe he ruined it.
he was, in short, delusional in the most innocent way. and weirdly proud of it, like it was his thing. like being a hopeless romantic was just part of the package, along with his obsession with vintage sneakers, his habit of alphabetizing his dvds, pokémon go and his belief that fate always showed up fashionably late.
he had no idea that the reason would be you.
sunghoon and jay had been living together for a little over a year now. the apartment wasn’t big, and it definitely wasn’t quiet (mostly because it sat right above a bar that played the same six songs on loop every night) but it had decent water pressure, a couch that technically belonged to jungwon, and a fridge that made an odd noise every time someone closed the bathroom door. but they made it work. jay was the cleaner one, sunghoon was the one who always left his hoodie on the kitchen chair, and somehow they found a balance.
they didn’t talk about feelings much, not directly. but every now and then, usually when one of them was eating something straight from the bag or halfway through a bad tv rerun, the topic would come up. on this particular night, sunghoon was lying on the couch with his legs stretched out and one hand buried in an open bag of cereal. he hadn’t even bothered with milk. the tv was on, volume too low to follow, but he wasn’t really paying attention anyway.
“i think i’m gonna die alone,” he said, like he was talking about the weather.
jay, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table with his laptop open, didn’t look up. “what happened now?”
“nothing happened. that’s the problem. i haven’t been on a date in, like, four months. maybe five.”
jay looked at him, unimpressed. “you say that like it’s a medical emergency.”
“it kind of is,” sunghoon said, sitting up just enough to gesture with the cereal bag.
jay snorted. “what happened to that girl from the climbing gym? the one who asked for your number after you slipped off the wall?”
sunghoon stared at the ceiling. “we went out once. she spent the entire time telling me about her ex who lives in canada and how he doesn’t believe in monogamy but they’re spiritually married anyway.”
jay blinked. “okay. next. what about the girl from the bookstore?” jay added, trying again.
“oh, right,” sunghoon said, already regretting the memory. “we had a good first date. coffee, conversation, the whole thing. second date, she brought her roommate. didn’t warn me or anything.”
“why?”
“she said she wanted a second opinion on me.”
jay closed his laptop. “man.”
“i know.” there was a short pause. sunghoon leaned his head back against the couch and let out a slow breath through his nose. he wasn’t trying to be dramatic, he was just tired of the effort it took to get halfway close to something that never turned out to be anything at all. “maybe i peaked romantically at seventeen,” he muttered.
“no one peaks at seventeen,” jay said.
“you did.”
“that’s different,” jay shrugged. “i’m hot.”
jay had been in a relationship for years, since he was 17. like proper long-term, holiday-travel-planning, toothbrush-in-the-bathroom relationship. it was steady, and sunghoon respected that, even if sometimes it made his own track record feel like a string of blurry first dates and weird storytimes.
sunghoon shifted on the couch, grabbing another handful of cereal from the open bag on his lap. “you know what’s sad? the only consistent interaction i’ve had with a woman lately is with some random pokémon go user who keeps stealing the gym at the end of our street.”
jay glanced over, already amused. “what?”
“i’ve been holding it down for team valor since, like, last year. and every night—every single night—this person comes and knocks me out. same user. snoopygirl_98. blue team, obviously. i think she hates me.”
jay raised an eyebrow. “maybe she’s flirting.”
“by humiliating me in front of a 7-eleven?”
“some people flirt differently.”
sunghoon let out a tired sigh, leaning back against the couch. “i just want to feel something again.”
jay reached for the remote. “you wanna go downstairs later? to the bar? maybe someone down there has a thing for emotionally exhausted guys.”
“you think it’s my moment?”
“statistically, you’re due.”
sunghoon didn’t answer right away. he didn’t believe in statistics, he believed in luck. and that night, for the first time in a while, he was about to have some. because you were downstairs.
sunghoon went to the bar with jay mostly out of stubbornness. he said he didn’t feel like going, said it was a weeknight, said the chances of anything interesting happening were basically zero, but still changed out of his old hoodie and put on one that didn’t smell like takeout. the bar was familiar, and warm in the way places start to feel when you’ve been going for long enough that the guy behind the counter knows your usual.
they found jake by the pool table, already halfway through his drink. he turned before they even said anything and grinned like he’d been expecting them. sunghoon gave jay a look and followed them toward one of the tables near the back, where a few other familiar faces from college were already sitting, people they didn’t see that often anymore but still shared enough history with to make small talk easy.
and that’s when he saw you.
you were sitting to the left of jake, stirring your drink with a straw and laughing at something someone had just said. it wasn’t loud or dramatic or exaggerated, but it caught his attention anyway. there was something about how comfortable you looked at the table, how you weren’t trying too hard to be part of the conversation and still somehow felt like the center of it.
he stopped walking for half a second before jay gave him a light push on the shoulder to keep moving. jake started introducing people in his usual scattered way, pointing quickly and not really giving anyone time to react. “this is y/n—she’s a friend from my econ class back in the day—and this is sunghoon, he used to live with me first year. you two haven’t met, right?”
sunghoon nodded once and said a quick “hey,” followed by a smile that he hoped looked normal. you replied with a polite “hey” back, and that was it. a few seconds, not much, but enough for him to realize he was already too aware of how close you were sitting to jake, how often you looked at him when you laughed, how your hand moved when you adjusted your glass.
he sat across the table next to jay, didn’t say much for a while. mostly listened, nodded, laughed when it made sense. but every few minutes his eyes would flick back to you, casually, like he wasn’t really paying attention, even though he absolutely was. there was something about you that made him feel quieter than usual. not nervous, but just unsure of what to do with himself.
about fifteen minutes later, heeseung showed up. he walked in already smiling, already halfway into the group and he greeted you with a hug (longer than a casual one) and slid into the seat next to you without asking. you two started talking right away, and it didn’t look like small talk. sunghoon watched for a few seconds longer than he meant to, then looked away and focused on his drink. he didn’t know your story, maybe you and heeseung were just close, maybe it was something else. he wasn’t going to ask, of course. but he was already wondering if he’d missed his window.
the next few days after that night were... something else. jay didn’t let it go. at least twice a day, he’d throw a casual question over from the other room or while making coffee, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “so, you liked her, didn’t you?”
and sunghoon would roll his eyes and try to sound way too cool for someone who’d clearly been thinking about you more than he wanted to admit. “what, no. she seemed nice. and i mean, she’s cute. i have eyes, i am aware.”
but jay wasn’t buying it. he pushed harder, always the annoying friend who actually cares. “okay, but did you ask jake for her number yet?” sunghoon tried to laugh it off, but the answer was always no.
“i didn’t. she’s way too pretty for me to just go asking like it’s no big deal. and besides, from what i saw, she’s definitely not single. heeseung was all over her, talking like they had some history or something.”
sunghoon tried to convince jay (and himself) that he wasn’t jealous, just realistic. he reminded himself he wasn’t some guy who just jumped into things blindly, especially not when the other guy was heeseung, who’d been friends with them both for years. so instead of asking for her number, he did what he does best: replayed the whole night in his head. every laugh you gave, every way you leaned in when heeseung was talking, the little things he couldn’t quite figure out.
he thought about how quiet he’d been, how stupid he probably looked trying to play it cool when all he wanted was to ask you questions about everything. but most of all, he wondered if there’d ever be a moment where he could just be the guy sitting next to you, not some awkward stranger watching from across the table.
sunghoon was in one of those moods where it felt like nothing ever went his way. you know, the kind of streak where every little thing seemed to slip through his fingers. dates that fizzled out before they even got started, conversations that ended awkwardly, moments that should’ve felt right but somehow didn’t. by the time he met you, he was almost done with all the usual nonsense. he wasn’t expecting fireworks or some perfect romcom scene. he was just trying not to mess things up this time. so when you showed up, he kept his guard up, quiet, careful not to get too invested too fast. he told himself he was being smart, protecting himself from another round of whatever it was that had been happening before.
so on the next week, sunghoon found himself at jake’s place again for another gathering, the kind that felt like a regular thing now even though he was still figuring out what he actually wanted from all this. when he walked in, the first thing that caught his eye was you, sitting in the corner with a group of friends. he tried to act casual as he made his way over, but inside, every step felt like a careful calculation.
his mind raced through possible ways to start the conversation without sounding awkward or, worse, desperate. “don’t mess this up,” he told himself quietly, repeating it like a mantra as he got closer. when he finally reached you, he caught a glimpse of your t-shirt, a band he knew well, mcfly. it was kind of a guilty pleasure for him. back in high school, he’d picked up their songs mostly because a lot of girls liked them, and it had been his secret move to catch their attention. but somewhere along the way, he realized he actually liked the music, even if he’d never admit it out loud. it was one of those small things, but for sunghoon, it was like a secret handshake, a sign that maybe you two weren’t completely from different planets.
he cleared his throat and said, “hey, nice shirt. didn’t expect to see someone else wearing mcfly around here.”
you glanced up, a bit surprised, then smiled. “yeah, i guess it’s not super common these days.”
sunghoon nodded, trying to sound casual but feeling a bit weird admitting it. “i mean, i used to listen to them all the time back in high school. don’t tell anyone, but tom’s songwriting always stuck with me.”
you raised your eyebrows, clearly surprised. “wait, really? you actually like mcfly?”
he laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, i picked up their songs ‘cause a lot of girls were into them, but then i kind of got hooked. it’s like... guilty pleasure, but also genuine.”
you smirked, “guilty pleasure is the best kind, honestly.”
sunghoon felt a little relieved she wasn’t making fun of him. “exactly.”
you both laughed softly, and for a moment, sunghoon forgot to overthink everything. it was just two people, talking about a band, and somehow that felt a lot easier than he expected. sunghoon found himself just wanting to listen to you talk. the way you casually shared stories about concerts and favorite songs felt different from the usual small talk he was used to. it wasn’t like he was trying to impress you or be someone he wasn’t, it was just two people connecting over something simple.
he tried to keep the conversation going, so he asked, “so, do you come to these hangouts often, or is this just a one-time thing?”
you smiled again, “pretty often. it’s nice to see familiar faces and meet new ones.”
sunghoon nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest that wasn’t just from the beer he’d had earlier. inside, he was thinking, yeah, it’s nice to meet you too. but he kept that to himself. for now, he was happy just being there, talking, and maybe, just maybe, hoping there would be more moments like this.
the conversation flowed better than he expected. you talked about concerts you’d been to, favorite songs, weird stories about how you got into the band. sunghoon was surprised at how easy it was to laugh and just be yourself around you. but then, as the night went on, he realized the familiar sinking feeling, the one that hit every time before: the friendzone. you were funny, smart, and clearly someone he wanted to be more than friends with, but the way you joked and leaned into the group, it was clear you saw him like the guy who always had a good playlist, not the one who was secretly hoping for more.
and after that night, things started to slip into something that sunghoon didn’t quite expect. you two began to follow each other on social media. just the usual likes and comments that somehow made his day a little better whenever his phone buzzed. at first, he told himself it was just casual. friends catching up, sharing bits of their lives.
but slowly, he realized it wasn’t so casual anymore. he found himself scrolling through your photos longer than he meant to, replaying your messages in his head, wondering what your smile looked like when you weren’t looking. jay noticed too, because sunghoon was not subtle about it at all. every few days, he’d throw the question at sunghoon like it was some kind of game. “so, are you into her?”
and every time, sunghoon would laugh it off. “nah, man, just friends. nothing like that.”
but inside, he was tangled up in a mess of what ifs and maybe-nots. he told himself he was fine just being friends, that getting too close wasn’t worth the risk. he was tired of things going sideways, of hoping for something that never quite stuck. but the more he tried to convince himself, the harder it became to ignore the way his chest tightened when you popped up on his screen or the way his mind wandered to what it’d be like if things actually went right.
he wasn’t ready to say it out loud, not yet. but the truth was, he was falling, probably faster than he wanted to admit. and every time jay asked, he’d just smile and shake his head, pretending he didn’t feel a thing. pretending was easier, at least for now.
it was a saturday afternoon, and sunghoon had been outside for a solid twenty minutes trying (once again) to reclaim the gym down the street. it had become a bit of an obsession at that point. snoopygirl_98 had taken it over again, and this time, she’d stacked it with an annoyingly strong blissey that just wouldn’t budge. he was pacing in front of the bakery on the corner, furiously tapping his screen, muttering under his breath like it was personal. because, honestly, it kinda was. whoever snoopygirl_98 was, she had been tormenting his team valor pride for weeks, and he was convinced she was doing it on purpose now.
right as he was about to give up and switch to a different gym, a notification popped up on his screen, not from the game, but a message. from you.
[y/n:] hey hoon!! are you busy?
his thumb hovered over the screen for a second, stomach doing that little flip it always did when your name showed up. he stared at it, then at the game, then back at the message. screw the gym.
[sunghoon:] Not really, what’s up?
the reply came fast, like you’d already had it typed and ready to send.
[y/n:] i’m at the mart near your place and i got way too many bags… like an embarrassing amount… and i couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. would you be a hero and help me carry these to my building? 🥺
sunghoon blinked at the screen. and then again. and then stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, processing what just happened. you couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. now, logically, he knew that meant nothing. you were friends, this was a friend thing. helping someone carry groceries was classic friend behavior. textbook friendzone. but still, his chest did a weird fluttery thing, and he could already hear jay’s voice in his head saying something smug like, “not into her, huh?”
he texted back:
[sunghoon:] On my way! Don’t move. Be there in five
he slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and took off in the direction of the store, telling himself it wasn’t a big deal. it’s just a nice thing to do. good karma. neighbors helping neighbors, nothing more. but deep down, as he walked a little too fast and adjusted his hair in the reflection of a parked car, sunghoon knew exactly what he was doing. and he knew exactly why he was doing it.
because, yeah, maybe he was in the friendzone. but he was in the friendzone with you. and that still felt a lot better than being anywhere else.
when he got to the store, there you were, standing on the curb with three overstuffed tote bags and two plastic ones hanging from your wrists, trying to balance them without toppling over. you looked up, caught sight of him, and smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world to call sunghoon out of the blue and make him carry your groceries like some kind of personal delivery boy. and the worst part is that he didn’t even mind.
“you weren’t kidding,” he said, eyeing the bags as he took most of them from you without hesitation.
“i was being modest,” you replied, a little out of breath. “there were two more bags but the guy at the checkout told me to stop.”
“glad someone had the courage to say it,” he joked, and you nudged him with your elbow as the two of you started walking.
at first, it was all easy conversation, nothing new there. you talked about how the store rearranged the snack aisle again, how you couldn’t find your favorite granola, and how the cashier gave you a coupon for cat food even though you didn’t have a cat. he listened, laughed in all the right places, and added his own running commentary. it was the kind of rhythm you two had settled into without ever really trying.
but somewhere between the store and your apartment building, as he adjusted the bags in his arms and looked at you rambling about frozen waffles, something quietly clicked in his chest. he didn’t know when it had started, maybe back at the bar, maybe during some other moment he didn’t register properly, but it was there now, and it was loud.
he liked you.
like, actually liked you. not the fake-crush-you-get-on-a-friend thing. not the maybe i’m just lonely thing. a real, actual crush that made his hands sweat and his thoughts spiral and his pulse skip a little every time you looked at him too long. and he had been telling himself it wasn’t that, because it was easier and because it was safer. but yeah, it was that.
you held the door to your building open with your hip and motioned for him to follow you. “don’t judge the mess,” you said casually.
sunghoon didn’t say anything, just smiled, still mildly stunned by the realization swirling in his head. when you opened the door to your apartment and he stepped inside, it was like stepping into a personality, your personality. there were string lights that didn’t match but somehow made sense together. mugs with little quotes on them. a record player in the corner next to a stack of vinyls that included both taylor swift and metallica. polaroids on the fridge. a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table. a plant that was definitely dying but still hanging in there. it was so you, in every way.
and sunghoon stood there holding your bags, pretending he wasn’t staring.
“you can drop them by the kitchen,” you said, already pulling off your coat and tossing it on the couch.
he did, and then paused, glancing around again. “your place is…” he trailed off, not sure how to say weirdly perfect without sounding creepy.
you looked over your shoulder. “chaotic?”
“adorable,” he said, before he could stop himself.
you raised an eyebrow, amused. “really?”
“uh. i mean, yeah. in a—like—it’s very you.”
he wanted to slap himself. but you just smiled again and started unpacking your bags like it wasn’t a big deal.
and over the next few weeks, things kind of continued. sunghoon found himself falling into this strange rhythm with you. not in a we’re clearly falling for each other kind of way, but in a i’m clearly in love and you keep sending me memes at 2am like that means nothing kind of way. and he didn’t even know how it happened. it was like one minute he was helping you carry groceries and the next he was learning your coffee order, your go-to karaoke song, and the name of the stuffed penguin you’d had since you were six. so the friendzone? yeah, it was thriving. stable. deeply rooted in reality.
“she called me dude today,” sunghoon said one night, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.
jay didn’t look up from his phone. “right. and?”
“no, but, like. she said it in the friendly way. like a bro way. like a ‘dude, you have to see this video of a cat falling off a table’ kind of way.”
jay glanced over. “so… you’re mad she’s comfortable with you?” sunghoon tossed a pillow at him but couldn’t deny the accuracy.
he was at that stage where he’d memorized your laugh patterns, saved photos from your story by accident, and started recognizing songs from your spotify playlists. he’d accidentally started saying some of your catchphrases. he was, in short, doomed.
you, meanwhile, were obliviously warm and kind and effortlessly funny, the kind of funny that didn’t try too hard, which made it worse. you’d text him stuff like “is this a normal dinner?” with a photo of cereal and pickles, and sunghoon would still stare at his phone for ten minutes smiling like a loser. he hated it. no, he loved it. no, actually, he hated that he loved it.
once, you called him at midnight just to ask if frogs had teeth (they do, sort of), and he answered like that was a perfectly normal thing for a person to do. it was around then that jay gave up even pretending to be surprised.
“just tell her you like her,” he said, halfway through a bowl of cereal.
sunghoon groaned. “i’d rather eat glass.”
“then stop looking at your phone like it’s a shrine.”
“i’m not.”
“you’re literally on her instagram zooming in on her bookshelf.”
“she has good taste in books, jay.”
“sure. tell the bookshelf how you feel.”
sunghoon ignored him, of course. he was committed to the bit now. committed to being your very helpful, very available, very emotionally tortured friend. it was pathetic, but it was also the best he’d felt in months.
jungwon’s birthday was on a saturday, and somehow the group decided that the best way to celebrate turning twenty-something was to put on rented shoes and throw heavy balls down a lane under disco lights. sunghoon hadn’t been to a bowling alley in years, but he wasn’t about to admit that. especially not when you showed up in jeans, a ponytail, and a hyper-specific competitiveness in your eyes that made him slightly nervous.
“you any good?” you asked, grabbing a bowling ball way too confidently.
sunghoon shrugged like it was nothing. “decent.”
“hm. cocky.”
“you scared?”
you raised an eyebrow. “you wish.”
and that was it: challenge accepted. sunghoon spent the next hour entirely too focused on beating you, despite the fact that it was literally jungwon’s birthday and he had no reason to be acting like it was the bowling olympics. but there was something about the way you teased him every time he got a spare, or the smug way you celebrated your strikes like you’d just ended world hunger, that gave him this ridiculous flutter in his chest he didn’t know what to do with.
you stuck your tongue out at him after your third strike in a row. “might wanna switch to the kiddie lane.”
“i’m just letting you win,” he said, deadpan.
“oh? how generous.”
he rolled his eyes, grinning despite himself. he hated how easy it was to like you. he hated how every little joke made him want to high-five his past self for deciding to help carry your groceries that one time. he also hated how that warm, stupid feeling in his chest immediately froze when he saw heeseung walk in.
you spotted heeseung almost instantly and lit up in that way people only do when they see someone they’re extremely fond of. you waved, borderline giddy, and rushed over to hug him like you hadn’t seen him in years, even though sunghoon was pretty sure you’d just posted a story with him the weekend before.
sunghoon watched from the far side of the seating area, trying to act normal. casual. unbothered. he adjusted his grip on his bowling ball even though he wasn’t playing that round and stared at the score screen like it had personally offended him. right. heeseung. the heeseung. the possible thing that he kept forgetting might exist. because you didn’t really talk about it. maybe there was nothing, since you have never mentioned it. and that only made it worse, because it left sunghoon’s brain wide open for theories and assumptions and a quiet, unspoken jealousy that he refused to acknowledge out loud.
jay leaned over. “you good?”
“yup.”
“you look like you’re about to throw that ball at someone’s head.”
sunghoon glanced down at the ball in his hands. “just focused.”
“focused on…?”
“winning.”
“you’re literally not up next.”
sunghoon ignored him. instead, he sat back down, pretended he wasn’t looking over at you and heeseung talking like you were in your own little world, and reminded himself that he was your friend. your helpful, emotionally-stable, always-up-for-carrying-heavy-things friend. he could handle that. probably.
and the bowling alley closed at midnight, but the group was still buzzing with leftover adrenaline and just enough alcohol to make walking in a straight line optional. naturally, that meant the next stop was the bar downstairs from sunghoon and jay’s apartment, their usual post-everything spot. jay had jungwon slung over his back in a chaotic piggyback ride situation, spinning him in slow, clumsy circles as jungwon yelled, “this is the best birthday ever!” with his arms out like a drunk airplane.
sunghoon stood at the bar, balancing on the balls of his feet, waiting for the bartender to finish pouring their next round. his hoodie sleeves were rolled up, and he was doing mental math trying to figure out if they’d ordered six or seven beers when someone stepped up beside him.
“hey,” heeseung said, casual, nodding toward the cluster of friends behind them. “you having fun?”
sunghoon smiled politely. “yeah, i am. it’s alright.”
“i’m glad you and y/n got close,” heeseung said, tone sincere. “she’s mentioned it a few times. says you’re easy to talk to.” sunghoon blinked and heeseung chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “i mean it. she doesn’t say stuff like that about just anyone. i think she really appreciates your friendship.”
sunghoon nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his lips. part of him warmed at the idea that you talked about him at all, that maybe he wasn’t just another background character in your life. maybe you actually noticed him, his jokes, his presence, his friendship. but then again, that was the word. friendship. and hearing that from heeseung — heeseung, who might very well be the guy you curled up with at the end of the night inside sunghoon’s head — made it land like a compliment wrapped in a punch.
so sunghoon gave a small nod, grabbed the tray, and turned back toward the table with a practiced smile, careful not to drop anything or show too much on his face.
the night had mellowed into that sleepy, blurry stage where everyone was too tired to keep the party going, but not quite ready to say goodbye. the staircase outside sunghoon and jay’s condo was full of muffled laughter and shuffling feet. jay was half-carrying, half-dragging jungwon toward the entrance, mumbling something about him always passing out like a toddler on holidays.
sunghoon trailed a few steps behind them, eyes on the floor, brain already shifting into autopilot. he was thinking about how he’d need to find an extra blanket for jungwon, and how the couch springs were going to wreck his back by morning, and how weird it was that every night with you ended the same: him pretending he didn’t want to stay longer.
“sunghoon?”
your voice cut through the entrance. he turned around to find you a few steps down on the staircase, looking up at him. your makeup was a little smudged from the night, and your hair was a bit messy from the wind, but you looked so relaxed. like you’d had a good time, like you didn’t want it to end just yet.
“hey,” he said, walking back toward you.
you smiled, warm and sleepy. “i had so much fun tonight. like, actual fun. not just polite fun.”
he chuckled. “me too.”
“we still haven’t settled the bowling score though,” you added, a teasing glint in your eyes. “we’re technically tied, and i don’t like leaving things unresolved.”
sunghoon blinked. “so you’re challenging me to a rematch?”
“obviously,” you grinned. “i want a proper win next time.”
he nodded, a little slower than he meant to. “yeah. okay. i’m in.”
and you just smiled at him like that answer had been a given. like you knew he’d say yes, like this was easy. normal, friendly. but as he turned back toward the apartment, your words kept echoing in his head. “i had so much fun tonight.”, “i want a proper win next time.”
it wasn’t just what you said, it was how you said it, the way you looked at him, like the night wasn’t fully over until you said goodnight to him specifically. it sent his thoughts spiraling in that annoyingly hopeful way he tried so hard to avoid. maybe he wasn’t imagining things. maybe it wasn’t just him, falling into another crush he couldn’t manage. maybe there was something… there.
and yet, as he followed jay inside, stepped over jungwon’s half-unconscious body sprawled on the rug, and shut the door behind him, he still couldn’t tell if he was being seen the way he wanted to be seen. he was getting whiplash from hoping too much and pretending not to. and somewhere between getting a glass of water and setting up a pillow for jungwon, he realized he was completely, hopelessly, predictably into you. as if that wasn’t obvious already.
over the next few weeks, sunghoon slowly started to realize just how tangled up he was in his feelings for you. he found himself checking his phone a little more often, hoping for a message, and when you did invite him out, he tried to play it cool even though his stomach was doing flips.
most of the times you hung out, it was at gatherings with friends, the kind of casual, loud hangouts where it was hard to have a serious conversation. you would appear in the middle of a group, laughing and teasing someone, and sunghoon would catch himself watching you more than the game or the conversation. he kept guessing, quietly, that maybe there was something going on between you and heeseung, especially since you seemed close, comfortable around each other in a way that made sunghoon’s stomach tighten a little. but he never brought it up. not to you, not to jake, not even to himself out loud. it was easier to assume something was there than to face the uncertainty.
then, one evening, jake mentioned an ex of yours during a conversation, like a name dropped in passing. heeseung’s reaction caught sunghoon off guard. “that guy was such a jerk,” heeseung said, his voice low and almost protective. “you deserve so much better. you deserve someone who actually is, at least, not a jerk.”
that moment clicked something in sunghoon’s head. if heeseung was talking like that, maybe there wasn’t anything going on between you two after all. and that thought was both a relief and a reason to panic. because it meant the way was clear, but it also meant time was running out. you were amazing, and he was pretty sure there were plenty of other guys out there, sliding into your dms, trying to get your attention.
he started to feel a weird mix of excitement and anxiety, like a kid realizing he was finally allowed to play the game but also realizing how fast the clock was ticking. he wasn’t sure what to do with all those feelings, so most of the time, he just tried to keep calm on the outside while his mind raced ahead, imagining how to not mess it up.
one evening, sitting on the couch with jay scrolling through his phone, sunghoon finally decided to open up. he talked about how seeing you made him feel like he was stuck in this weird in-between, wanting more but not knowing how to get there without messing everything up. jay looked up, gave him that familiar sideways grin, and said something simple but solid: “bro, you just gotta be patient. wait for the right moment. don’t go jumping in all dramatic like you usually do.”
sunghoon rolled his eyes but knew jay was right. “yeah, i get it. no mugs with her face on it, no mixtapes, no playlist called ‘songs that remind me of you.’”
“exactly,” jay said, deadpan. “try being normal for once.”
sunghoon leaned back and closed his eyes, but his brain immediately went into overdrive. his mind was something like: okay, no mugs, got it. but what about a poem? no, that’s way too much. maybe a funny meme? too lame. what about baking cookies? wait, does she even like sweets? maybe she’s gluten-free. no clue. okay, no mixtapes, but what if i make a playlist? subtle though, not like ‘this is for you.’ maybe call it ‘songs i listen to when i’m feeling chill’? no, too vague. or maybe a mug but just plain, with a small quote? nah, still weird. what if i write her a note? no, i’m not a middle schooler. or just ask her out straight up? no, no, no. gotta wait for the moment. but when?
he sighed and looked over at jay, who was now smirking. “guess being normal is harder than it sounds.”
and a few weeks later, there was this party, and it was loud, crowded, and exactly the kind of chaos sunghoon didn’t really like. but there you were, halfway through your third drink, giggling at something nobody else had said, and instantly becoming the center of attention. you were funny, charming, and a little bit tipsy, the perfect combination for making everyone laugh without even trying. sunghoon, of course, was watching you with that panicked, how do i handle this look that only his closest friends knew too well.
somehow, the whole group decided that keeping an eye on you was his responsibility. no one said it out loud, but it was like an unspoken rule. maybe it was because he looked like the most responsible one, or maybe because you kept drifting toward him like a magnet, waving your arms dramatically while telling stories with way too much enthusiasm.
“sunghoon, you’re not going to believe what happened to me today,” you slurred slightly, swaying on your feet but managing to stay upright. “this guy at the coffee shop said i looked like a celebrity.” you wiggled your eyebrows and smiled at him, waiting for his reaction.
sunghoon blinked, trying to hide the part of his brain that was screaming she’s drunk and adorable and how do i even respond to this? “uh, that’s… great,” he said carefully, hoping it sounded casual. “you told him you’re famous now?”
you laughed, a little too loudly. “no, i said i’m just famous in my own head. get it?”
“yeah,” he smiled softly, already feeling like he’d lost the ability to say anything clever. “definitely famous.”
you reached out and grabbed his arm, leaning closer. “you’re no fun tonight, sunghoon. loosen up.” your eyes were sparkling mischievously, and sunghoon’s heart did a stupid little flip that he did not want anyone else to notice.
inside, he was running through every possible reaction: play it cool, be chill, don’t stare like a lovesick puppy. smile, laugh when she laughs, don’t mention the fact that her breath smells like cheap vodka. okay, offer her water? no, she’ll think i’m momming her. maybe just get another drink for myself to stay steady? nah, that’s just an excuse to drink too.
while he was debating this internal chaos, you suddenly burst out laughing at your own joke about the coffee shop guy, and sunghoon couldn’t help but smile, feeling himself falling deeper into whatever this was between you two. “you know,” you said, suddenly serious for a second, “i’m glad you’re here. it’s kinda nice having someone look out for me.”
sunghoon’s breath caught. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it.” he tried to sound casual, but there was no hiding the softness in his voice.
later, when you were wobbling a little too much to stand by yourself, sunghoon was immediately there to steady you. “i got you,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist as you leaned on him. everyone else just watched and smiled, like this was all part of the plan.
on the way out, you stumbled a bit and he tightened his grip. “thanks for being my human crutch tonight,” you joked.
“anytime,” he replied, feeling like he should say something deeper but all he could think was please don’t fall, please don’t fall.
walking you home was quiet but comforting. you kept mumbling random things about the party and some wild idea for a band you wanted to start. sunghoon just listened, his mind half on your words and half on how lucky he felt to be the one walking by your side. and when you finally reached your apartment, you turned and gave him a sleepy smile. “thanks for tonight, hoon. you’re a good friend.”
he nodded, smiling back, but inside, the familiar mix of hope and panic swirled again. good friend was a start, but maybe he wanted to be more than that. for now, though, he was happy to just get you home safe, and try not to mess up the next time you got this adorably drunk.
you paused at the door of your apartment, a little wobbly and smiling, looking at sunghoon with eyes that were definitely feeling the weight of the night. “hey, you don’t have to walk all the way home alone, you know,” you said, leaning against the wall for balance. “why don’t you just come in for a bit? it’s late, and honestly, i’d be worried about you.”
sunghoon gave a nervous smile, trying to look confident. “nah, i’m good. i’m a big boy, i can handle it.”
he felt your gaze, half intense, half sweet, half amused, as if silently asking, really? so you laughed softly, a little tipsy but sincere. “i’m gonna stay up all night worried if you don’t come in. and my couch is super comfortable, like, really. i could sleep there, and you’ll take the bed.”
sunghoon stopped for a second, his brain trying to decode the innocent but kinda tempting offer. wait, she wants me to sleep on her bed? he thought, feeling his heart speed up just a little. okay, maybe more than a little.
“never,” he said with a playful grin, “i’m never gonna let you sleep on the couch. you sleep on the bed, and i’ll take the couch.”
you widened your eyes like “aha, so you’re saying you’ll stay?” with a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying seeing him flustered.
sunghoon tried to play it cool, but inside his head it was total chaos. okay, breathe. don’t do anything dumb. but damn, this is really nice. “yeah,” he said, “guess that’s the deal.”
you laughed, flopping back on the couch like it was your personal bed already. “good. now i won’t have to worry. and you’ll be close if i need you to save me from any weird noises or monsters.”
sunghoon chuckled. “don’t worry. i’m way scarier than any monster.”
you were already sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, that sleepy, slightly goofy smile playing on your lips. sunghoon stood there for a moment, just watching you, feeling that weird mix of wanting to be helpful but not quite sure how. finally, he cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
“no no no, you should go change and sleep in your bed. don’t stay on the couch,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. inside, his brain was racing — okay, act normal. don’t make this weird. but also, don’t mess it up.
you scrunched your nose, crossing your arms like a kid who just got told to eat their vegetables. “ah, but i don’t wanna get up. it’s warm here,” you complained in that playful, stubborn tone that made sunghoon smile without even realizing it.
he laughed quietly but didn’t back down. instead, he just went over to you, and before you could argue more, he scooped you up effortlessly, just enough to carry you off the couch and start the slow walk to your room. in that moment, his heart was beating way faster than it should, and he caught himself thinking, wow, this is actually kinda nice.
when he laid you gently on your bed, he took a second to adjust the pillow behind your head, smoothing the blanket over you carefully, as if you were something fragile he wanted to protect. he stood there a moment longer, just watching your face, so peaceful now, and it hit him how much he actually cared about you, more than just friends, that was pretty obvious already, but not quite sure how to say that out loud yet.
then, leaning down slowly, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a quiet little promise that he was there and that you mattered. he pulled back a little and said, “i’m gonna close the door, okay? you change, then go to sleep. if you need anything, just call me.”
as he reached for a blanket on the chair, ready to head back to the couch, his mind was a mess of silly thoughts— is this what people mean by 'caring'? man, why does this feel so complicated? i just want her to be comfortable, but now i’m thinking about how nice it is to be close like this… okay, calm down, sunghoon.
he smiled to himself, shook his head lightly, and settled in for the night on the couch, feeling oddly happy and a little bit hopeless all at once.
the next morning sunghoon woke up with a start, his heart still racing from a half-remembered dream. your place was quiet, but there was something different. something warm and inviting that pulled him out of the couch. as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, a comforting smell drifted toward him: the rich aroma of coffee mixed with the sweet scent of pancakes. curious, he stood up, following the smell to the kitchen.
there you were, standing by the stove in a soft, oversized pajama shirt that looked impossibly cozy. the sight of you moving around the kitchen, focused yet relaxed, hit him with a sudden wave of tenderness he wasn’t ready for. his chest tightened, a gentle ache from the simple, quiet moment unfolding in front of him. you turned and caught him watching, a shy smile spreading across your face. “good morning,” you said softly, the casual warmth in your voice making everything feel right. “i thought i’d make us some breakfast. thanks for taking care of me last night.”
sunghoon’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his heart swelling with something like pride and affection all tangled together. without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. the scent of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, filled his senses, and for a moment he just held onto you, feeling a calm happiness settle deep inside.
“you’re welcome,” he said quietly, voice low and a little breathless. “i’m just glad you’re okay.”
you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your smile gentle but full of something more, something unspoken. the world outside the kitchen seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that soft morning light.
so after that morning, sunghoon’s brain basically went on permanent loop mode. and not the cool, chill kind of loop, but the one where your brain is stuck on a hamster wheel powered by a caffeine-addicted squirrel, because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. every little thing reminded him of you: the smell of coffee, the way you smiled, that ridiculous oversized pajama shirt that somehow made you look like both a cozy bear and a secret heartbreaker at the same time.
he started doing these totally unplanned mental movie scenes of you both, like some rom-com that he had zero control over. in his head, there were slow-motion moments, awkward laughs, and a lot of him trying not to trip over his own words — spoiler alert: he always did. and the tragic part was that he knew he was acting like a total dork, but he couldn’t care less. he was deep in the hopeless crush zone, and the sad, funny part was he didn’t even mind being there.
sunghoon even caught himself practicing casual greetings in the mirror, whispering, “hey, what’s up?” but sounding more like, “heyyyy, whassssuuup,” which definitely was not the vibe he wanted to give off.
and sunghoon never really knew how to play the guitar. like, he could barely hold the thing properly without feeling like he was about to break it or accidentally snap a string. but then there was this song, “falling in love” by mcfly, that somehow stuck in his head. it wasn’t even a cool song to brag about knowing, but it had this weird charm, and more importantly, he thought, maybe, just maybe, he could play it for you one day.
so, he went to jay and asked to borrow his guitar. jay raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting sunghoon to give up in like five minutes. but sunghoon was serious, he wanted this. the first few days were pure disaster. his fingers hurt, and every chord change sounded like a dying cat. he fumbled, he muttered swear words under his breath, and jay occasionally peeked in, half-amused, half-worried.
after what felt like forever, with his fingers all raw and sore, he finally managed to play the whole song without collapsing into a coughing fit or breaking a string. victorious but exhausted, he sent you a message: Hey, i learned falling in love on the guitar!
you replied instantly: i want to see you play it someday :)))
sunghoon stared at his phone, heart racing like he’d run a marathon. then, of course, his brain went into overdrive. what if i mess up? what if my fingers slip? what if i sound terrible even after all this practice? but at the same time, there was this tiny spark of excitement that maybe this was a step closer to something more than just friends.
one day, sunghoon was finally doing something with jay that didn’t involve him thinking about you nonstop, which was a true miracle, really. they were just messing around, playing some dumb game on jay’s phone, cracking jokes, and for a moment, sunghoon’s brain was somewhere other than you. then his phone buzzed with that annoying notification again: someone was attacking the pokemon gym right across the street, the one he had claimed like two days ago after a fierce battle.
he glanced at the screen, and sure enough, it was snoopygirl_98, the same mysterious pokémon go player who had been stealing that gym from him every other day. the rivalry was basically legendary in his mind: the fierce battle of sunghoon vs snoopygirl_98. he never actually knew who she was, but he was determined to keep his turf.
without a second thought, sunghoon slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed his slipper (the one goofy soft slipper he always wore around the house) and said, “jay, hold on. i gotta settle this.” jay just raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, knowing sunghoon’s competitive streak was about to kick into overdrive. so there he was, tiptoeing out of the apartment, half slipping on the soft slipper but trying to look cool anyway. as he crossed the street, he was already imagining the showdown. “okay, snoopygirl_98,” he whispered, “time to see who’s the real champion.”
as he turned the corner onto the street where the gym always stood, sunghoon was already preparing his battle stance, phone in one hand, thumb poised like a dramatic swordsman, ready to reclaim his gym with the same urgency people usually reserved for, like, national emergencies. he was muttering strategies under his breath, rehearsing which pokémon to use first (always charizard, never blissey — blissey was a coward’s choice) when he noticed a familiar shape a few steps ahead, someone standing by the 7-eleven sign, head tilted down, clearly battling on their phone with the kind of concentration that only came from either playing pokémon go or trying to transfer money while your banking app crashes.
he squinted, slowed down, adjusted his slipper, because something about the silhouette made his brain do that annoying thing where it starts connecting dots he didn’t ask it to connect. the hoodie was oversized. the socks were mismatched. the hair was pulled up the way he always secretly thought looked really good on you even though he never said anything because what kind of guy compliments hair logistics? and then you looked up. and it was you. and sunghoon’s brain just stopped.
you didn’t see him right away, too focused on whatever attack you were tapping out on your screen and for a second, he just stood there, frozen, phone hanging limply in his hand like he'd forgotten what apps were, trying to process the fact that snoopygirl_98 — the elusive enemy who had single-handedly ruined his gym stats for months, the digital nemesis he had cursed under his breath more times than he could count — was you. you. as in, the person who still didn’t know he practiced saying “hi” in the mirror before group hangouts, just in case you were there. the person he may or may not have secretly written a list about titled “things she’s said that made me feel weird in a good way.”
and now here you were, standing across from him, completely unaware, committing virtual violence against his snorlax like it was just another tuesday. because it was, in fact, just another tuesday.
he blinked once, then again, then checked his phone, like maybe the app had glitched, like maybe this was some alternate universe where you just happened to have the exact same username as his sworn digital rival. but there it was: snoopygirl_98. blue team. level 37. the destroyer of dreams and the reason he once rage-deleted the app at 2am and reinstalled it ten minutes later because he couldn’t sleep without knowing if the gym was still his.
and somehow, somehow, it was you.
he didn’t know what to do. he couldn’t just walk up and say “hey, remember that gym you’ve been taking over every night for six months? surprise! it’s me, your accidental pokémon nemesis and also the guy who may or may not be in love with you depending on how much eye contact we’ve made in the last week.” no. absolutely not. he had dignity. barely. but he had it. kind of.
instead, he took a cautious step back like a spy retreating from an unexpected recon mission, trying not to make noise as he slid his slipper against the pavement, which unfortunately made a cartoonish squeak that echoed louder than it should have in the open air. you turned, looked up, and your face lit up the exact way it always did when you saw him, like it was just a nice surprise to run into your friend, like nothing weird was happening, like you weren’t holding his gym hostage right now with a smug-looking vaporeon.
“sunghoon?” you said, smiling, completely normal, as if this wasn’t some betrayal of trust that would go down in pokémon go history forums if he ever decided to tell the story.
he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “hey,” he finally said, voice much higher than usual, like someone had turned the pitch knob on his entire social confidence.
you tilted your head, confused for a second, then pointed at your screen. “you play too?”
and that was it. the unraveling. the full comedic collapse of sunghoon’s internal monologue. because play too? girl. play too? you’ve been personally destroying his soul one blissey at a time and now you were standing there acting like you were new to the whole thing, like you weren’t the blue team villain of his red team nightmares. he wanted to laugh. or cry. or possibly propose. he wasn’t sure anymore.
he forced a smile. “yeah… i dabble.”
you laughed, completely unaware of the hurricane inside his skull. “i’ve been stealing this gym for weeks. i don’t know who keeps taking it back, but it’s kind of my nightly routine now.”
he nodded slowly, like someone who’s just realized they’ve been in a romcom subplot this entire time and everyone forgot to tell them. “yeah. weird. wonder who that could be.”
you grinned. “whoever it is, they’re relentless.”
he blinked. smiled. swallowed the dramatic gasp he wanted to let out. “yeah,” he said again, staring at your phone like it had personally insulted his family. “totally relentless.”
and in that moment, as you turned your attention back to your screen and started strategizing your next move with a seriousness that honestly impressed him, sunghoon realized something that both horrified and thrilled him in equal measure: he didn’t want to win the gym anymore. not tonight. maybe not ever. because losing to you? weirdly… kind of felt like winning.
so the weeks that followed the great snoopygirl_98 2025 revelation were, to sunghoon’s brain, a chaotic montage of unprocessed emotions, late-night gym takeovers, and entirely too many internal monologues that began with “okay but what does it mean” and ended with him staring at the ceiling like always. because now that he knew you were, well, you, he couldn’t un-know it. everything felt different, except literally nothing had changed. you still sent him memes at weird hours. you still texted him “tell me something random” out of nowhere and then rated his answers out of ten. you still walked into rooms like you were casually auditioning for the lead in the sitcom of his life.
and sunghoon, for his part, was trying to be normal. keyword: trying. which mostly meant overthinking every single interaction while nodding like an emotionally competent adult. a simple “hey, what are you doing tonight?” from you became an existential riddle he could only solve through three hours of pacing and a playlist of acoustic sad songs.
he had started categorizing your texts into very serious folders in his brain, like:
folder a: possibly flirty but could be friendly if you squint.
folder b: definitely friendly but still makes his stomach feel weird.
folder c: completely neutral but somehow he read it five times anyway.
folder d: emergency. called him “dude.” instant damage. snorlax lost 400 HP.
and then, as if fate hadn’t already made things complicated enough, you started talking about how i met your mother. at first it was casual. you mentioned you’d been rewatching some episodes and sunghoon, of course, latched on immediately like a drowning man clinging to a life raft labeled shared interests. he texted back something way too enthusiastic, like “WAIT I LOVE THAT SHOW,” and then instantly regretted the all caps but it was too late.
from there, it spiraled in the best possible way. suddenly you were sending each other voice notes about barney’s worst outfits (trick question: barney is always wearing a suit), arguing over whether ted was just misunderstood or annoying (sunghoon was team both), and quoting lines back and forth. and it became a routine, you’d agree on which episodes to watch, then text throughout like you were sitting on opposite ends of the same couch, reacting in real time. and sure, sometimes the timing was off and someone got spoiled by an accidental “OMG LILY JUST SAID THAT” two minutes before the scene actually happened, but it didn’t matter. it was fun. it felt like something, like a shared little world.
and then when you were talking about season two, something about how marshall and lily’s relationship made you feel weirdly emotional in a way you hadn’t expected, and sunghoon had just typed out a Very Deep Message about love and growing up when you interrupted with:
[y/n:] why don’t you just come over and we watch together?
[y/n:] we could watch and order something like real, greasy, perfect food
sunghoon stared at the message like it was a prophecy. he reread it, twice. then a third time, just in case it turned into “actually nvm lol” when he blinked. it didn’t. it stayed there, glowing softly on his screen. and his brain, poor sunghoon’s brain, absolutely exploded.
one part of him went: she invited you over. this is it. this is the crossover episode. but what if it’s just, like, a chill friend hangout? what if she makes you watch the pineapple episode and asks if you relate to ted. and then the final part, the dramatic romantic core of his soul, just whispered: go. wear your good hoodie. the one that doesn’t smell like doritos.
he took a deep breath, typed back something that he hoped sounded effortlessly cool — probably something tragically boring like “Yeah, sounds fun :)” — and then threw his phone across the room like it had personally attacked him with joy.
because yeah, it was happening. he was going to your apartment, again, not for drinking reasons and sleeping at your couch this time, no. you were going to watch how i met your mother together. with food, and possibly blankets. and if the universe was in any way fair, maybe you’d laugh at something he said and nudge his arm and he would not panic.
sunghoon arrived five minutes early, which, for him, was an act of immense restraint considering he’d spent the last twenty debating which snacks made him look more chill. he had one hand clutching a crinkly plastic bag full of sodium and intention, and the other mentally prepared to knock even though you’d already told him, twice, to just come in when he got there. still, he hovered in front of your door for a second, wondering if the zero-calorie soda made him look like someone trying too hard not to care.
you opened the door in a big hoodie and patterned socks, looking like you hadn’t overthought a single thing today, which made him immediately regret every decision he’d made in the past hour, starting with ironing his t-shirt. you glanced at the bag in his hand, raised an eyebrow, and grinned. “you brought the entire snack aisle.”
“i wanted to make sure we don’t need to get up for at least three episodes,” he said, holding it out like a peace offering.
you peeked inside, spotted a rainbow of crunchy nonsense and two sodas, and smiled again, this one softer, and then said, with no sarcasm and no dramatic pause, “that’s actually really cute.”
sunghoon felt the sentence hit somewhere between his ribcage and his ability to behave like a normal human. “cute” wasn’t usually something he processed well. especially not when it came from you, in that tone. he gave a little laugh that wasn’t really a laugh and followed you into the apartment. the living room looked lived-in in the best way. blanket on the couch, half-melted candle on the coffee table, tv already queued up. you tossed a couple of pillows to the floor, sat cross-legged on the couch, and patted the spot next to you with zero hesitation, like this was the most natural thing in the world. he sat, careful not to take up too much space, careful not to do something weird with his hands.
you started the episode, some early season of how i met your mother, and the familiar opening theme filled the room. sunghoon tried to focus on the screen but your knee had already brushed his twice, and you were sitting close enough that he could smell your shampoo, which he refused to think about too long.
you had just grabbed a blanket and casually tossed half of it across his lap like that was completely fine. you shifted your weight, leaning slightly into him, and he told himself it was normal. you were comfortable. this was comfort. comfort wasn’t dangerous. except it kind of was, because now you were sharing a blanket, and the warmth wasn’t just from the polyester.
somewhere around the middle of the episode, you rested your hand on his arm for a second while laughing, just a quick touch, and then didn’t really move it, letting it stay there as you turned to say something about how ted reminded you of a guy you dated in college “but like, if that guy was worse at metaphors.” sunghoon nodded, mostly to cover up the fact that his brain had gone suspiciously quiet, like it was holding its breath.
you shifted again, pulled your legs up, and now your knee was leaning against his in a way that didn’t feel accidental. you didn’t apologize, or move, you just stayed like that, narrating bits of the episode, making comments, stealing a few chips from the bag he’d opened on his lap like you always did, but now it felt different, closer. intentional in a way that made sunghoon’s hands go kind of weird and tingly.
he tried to focus on the episode. really, he did. he watched barney fail another pick-up attempt, watched ted give one of his long-winded love speeches, and watched lily roll her eyes in that way she always did when she knew something before the rest of the group did. and through all of that, you kept your hand on his arm. and sometimes, your thumb moved slightly, like it was drawing little circles. he couldn’t tell if that was on purpose, and he wasn’t about to ask.
“ted tries too hard,” you said eventually, still watching the screen. “like… if he just stopped declaring things every five minutes, he’d probably be fine.”
“yeah,” sunghoon said, trying not to think too hard about how many things he’d rehearsed in the mirror just in case you ever brought up relationships. “relatable.”
you laughed lightly, looked at him sideways. “you’re not like ted, though.”
“is that a good thing?”
“it’s a good thing,” you said. and then, just like that, you leaned your head against his shoulder. not in rom-com way. just a quiet shift, like it made sense.
sunghoon blinked at the tv, which he now couldn’t see properly because your head was in the way, and decided that was perfectly fine. he didn’t need to see the episode. he’d seen it before anyway. probably twice, maybe three times. and you didn’t say anything after that, and he didn’t either. you stayed there, quiet but not awkward, and the blanket warmed up between you. he was very aware of how still he was sitting, as if moving even slightly would ruin the balance of the moment. your hand slipped down from his arm and onto his knee, not like a grand romantic gesture, more like you forgot where your hand was supposed to go and decided it was his knee now. he didn’t know what to do with that. so he let it be.
when the episode ended, you didn’t move right away. the next one auto-started, the theme song rolling in again, and you let out a soft hum, like maybe you were thinking, or maybe you were just full of snacks.
then you said, not looking at him, “we should make this our thing.”
sunghoon turned his head slightly. “what thing?”
“this,” you said. “watching how i met your mother together.”
he nodded slowly, trying not to seem too eager. “yeah. i’m good with that.”
you finally looked at him, that same easy smile on your face, and then you bumped his knee with yours, not hard, just enough to make sure he was still paying attention. he smiled back, heart doing things he would later try to explain to jay using weird metaphors involving elevators and jelly beans. and just like that, he knew he wasn’t imagining things anymore. or maybe he still was. but either way, it felt kind of real. real enough to sit quietly and let the next episode start, your head on his shoulder, your hand on his knee, and the thought in his head that maybe, finally, this wasn’t just another almost.
after that first night, watching how i met your mother together became a thing, not officially, not scheduled, not even discussed really, but it kept happening. every couple of days, one of you would text and the other would know exactly what it meant. snacks were expected, drinks too, sometimes takeout, sometimes just popcorn and half a leftover soda, but always the same couch, always the same routine.
it didn’t start out that physical, but over time, the way you sat next to each other got… closer. more relaxed. you got comfortable first, you always did. you’d throw your legs across his lap like it meant nothing, lean your head on his shoulder when you were too lazy to sit straight, or curl into his side like it was the most natural place to be. and sunghoon would freeze every time, nod like he was fine, then immediately go into full internal system reboot. he’d sit there pretending to be unaffected, nodding at the tv with the intensity of someone watching a government briefing, while you poked his knee or played with the drawstring of his hoodie like it was just a fidget toy. and he never stopped you. not once. not even when you fell asleep on his arm and drooled slightly on his hoodie sleeve. (he washed it the next day but also kind of wanted to keep it that way. he didn't tell anyone that.)
you were always the one to touch first. he was always the one to overthink it. but then one night, it was raining a little outside, and the apartment was warm, and you'd made tea for both of you for some reason, even though neither of you usually drank tea during sitcom reruns. the lights were low, the episode was one of those emotional ones where ted was being dramatic about someone leaving, and you were curled up right next to him, knee pressed to his thigh, blanket half over your lap and half over his. you looked like you might fall asleep again, but you weren’t. you were just quiet and calm, and sunghoon, in a moment of bravery that he didn’t plan and definitely didn’t rehearse, lifted his arm and rested it around your shoulders, not awkwardly, not halfway, but all the way around. solid, like he meant it.
you didn’t react for a second, then shifted under his arm and leaned your head onto his chest without saying anything. you didn’t joke, you didn’t make it weird. you just rested there like you’d been waiting for him to do that for a while. because, well, you were.
he stared at the tv, heart going approximately 800 beats per minute, trying very hard not to mess anything up by existing too loudly.
“this is comfortable,” you mumbled after a moment, voice low.
“yeah,” he said, somehow managing to sound calm even though his brain was short-circuiting. “you have a surprisingly heavy head, by the way.”
you snorted. “excuse me?”
“it’s not an insult,” he said, trying not to laugh. “it’s just. structurally. very dense.”
“maybe it’s full of all the times you’ve secretly checked me out and thought i didn’t notice.”
he blinked. actually blinked. then coughed, because his throat forgot how to function. “what— i— that’s—”
you laughed. you were clearly not taking it that seriously. you were just being you, casually flirty in a way that felt like breathing. and he could have just let it go, he could’ve rolled his eyes and changed the subject and moved on like he always did. but for some reason, this time, he didn’t.
“if i was checking you out,” he said, still looking at the screen, “i wouldn’t do it secretly.”
you looked up at him a little, one eyebrow raised, that half-smile forming on your face, the one you used when you caught him saying something he clearly hadn’t meant to say out loud. “oh?” you said. simple and amused. a bit dangerous.
sunghoon realized what he’d just said about five seconds too late, and he wanted to disappear into the couch, but it was too late now. the sentence was out there, floating in the air. you didn’t say anything for a moment. just shifted again, a little closer this time, your arm settling across his stomach casually, like this was fine, like this was good, and maybe it was. he didn’t say anything else. neither did you. the episode kept playing.
but the energy had shifted just slightly, like something had tilted in the right direction. and for once, sunghoon didn’t try to fix it or overthink it or joke it away. he just sat there, with your head on his chest, your arm across him, and the feeling that maybe, somehow, he’d just started something without even meaning to. and the best part was that you didn’t seem to mind at all.
and it was after that night on the couch that sunghoon started getting a little braver. not confident movie character braver, just small steps. like brushing your hair out of your face without immediately apologizing for it. or letting his hand stay on your knee when you sat close. or making comments that maybe sounded flirty but were delivered in such a deadpan voice that it took you a second to realize he was being serious.
he started leaning in more when you talked. he started answering your texts faster without pretending to wait five minutes like he used to. he made playlists and shared them without labeling them something obvious like songs that make me think of your face (he wanted to, but he didn’t). he was still himself, still sunghoon, still deeply confused most of the time, but there was something about that night that made him feel like maybe you wouldn’t run if he actually tried.
a few weeks later, there was a night out. the bar under the apartment again. the usual crew, some people from college, a couple new friends no one really remembered inviting. sunghoon had no idea what they were celebrating. he asked twice. jay said something about a work promotion, jake said it was just friday, and someone else said it was heeseung’s cousin’s birthday. none of it felt convincing.
but it didn’t matter. everyone was drinking, someone had ordered two baskets of fries “for the table,” and you were sitting next to sunghoon, laughing at something he’d said that wasn’t even a joke, and your hand was on his thigh like it belonged there. and sunghoon, for once, didn’t freeze. he leaned toward you, nudged your shoulder with his, and made some dumb comment about the song playing, but you laughed anyway, then leaned your head briefly on his shoulder and left it there just long enough to make his brain forget how to function for a bit.
everyone else was shouting over each other. jay was trying to convince jake to join him in some tequila shot competition that wasn’t a real thing. jungwon was filming something on his phone that would definitely not make sense in the morning. and sunghoon was sitting there thinking about how your fingers kept tracing circles on his knee, very casually, very slowly, like you weren’t even thinking about it.
and then (of course, because the universe has a sense of humor), some guy appeared, tall. friendly-looking, clearly a few drinks in. not part of your group. he walked up and said something to you. sunghoon didn’t catch the first part, just the tone: the slightly too smooth, trying-too-hard kind of tone. you laughed politely, the way people do when they’re trying not to encourage. the guy leaned in closer, asked your name. said something else that sunghoon couldn’t fully hear but saw you shift a little in response. and something in his stomach tightened.
he wasn’t mad. he wasn’t even surprised. people liked you, obviously. you were warm and funny and way too pretty for him to be sitting next to you in the first place. it wasn’t the guy’s fault, he didn’t know anything. sunghoon should’ve done this months ago, if he had the courage to do it. still, he went quiet. he looked down at his drink, then at you, then back at the guy. he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do something. you weren’t his, there were no rules.
the guy kept talking. not aggressive, just persistent. you were still smiling, but it looked tighter now. less amused, more tired. and then, suddenly, you turned slightly, reached over, and rested your hand on sunghoon’s arm.
“hey,” you said, looking right at the guy. “sorry, my boyfriend gets kinda jealous.”
and you said it so calmly, so casually. like it was the truth. like this was normal. like sunghoon was your boyfriend and not just the guy who once forgot how to speak when you tied your hair up in front of him. the guy blinked, looked at sunghoon, who was now frozen mid-sip of his drink, cup halfway to his mouth.
sunghoon nodded once. not too fast, just enough to sell it. “yeah,” he said, voice steady. “super jealous. very possessive. not proud of it.”
you gave him the smallest side glance, clearly trying not to laugh, and squeezed his arm like you’re doing great, keep going, oscar-worthy stuff. the guy held up his hands like no worries, totally cool, and backed off without drama. he disappeared into the crowd.
the second he was gone, you looked at sunghoon and grinned. “thanks for playing along.”
he blinked. “yeah. of course.”
“you did the jealous boyfriend voice really well.”
“it’s just my regular voice,” he muttered, eyes still on his drink.
you leaned your chin on his shoulder for a second. “maybe you should use it more often.”
he didn’t say anything. mostly because his entire internal system was shutting down again. but this time, he wasn’t panicking, not really. his heart was definitely doing some weird rhythmic gymnastics and his brain had already started drafting a completely unnecessary analysis titled "what does it mean when she fake-calls you her boyfriend but then also holds your arm and looks at you like that," but he wasn’t spiraling. not in the usual sense.
so he just sat there, letting the noise of the bar blur around him, while you sipped the rest of your drink like nothing happened. and maybe for you, nothing had. maybe it was just a line, a joke. a way to get rid of an annoying guy without a scene. or maybe it was something else. something between the lines. something you weren’t saying out loud yet either.
“i want a terrible burger,” you said suddenly, finishing the last of your soda and setting the cup down with dramatic finality. “like, a bad one. like, i want to regret it in the morning.”
sunghoon blinked, pulled back into reality. “what, like… fast food bad?”
“exactly,” you said, eyes lighting up. “like wendy’s. i want to see a sad lettuce leaf in my sandwich.”
he snorted. “that’s oddly specific.”
you stood up and grabbed your jacket. “come on, boyfriend. let’s go to wendy’s.”
he didn’t correct you. he just followed you out, tossing a quick goodbye to the group still half-yelling about tequila, and stepped into the night air that felt colder than it should’ve after all that body heat and bar lighting. you walked a few blocks, mostly in silence, still a little buzzed but in that sleepy, satisfied way that made everything feel slower. then, right as you were crossing an empty street, you reached out and grabbed his hand. not in a performative way, you just took it, like it was there and you felt like holding it. like you remembered the fake-boyfriend story and decided to keep the bit going. or maybe not, maybe you just wanted to.
“you’re doing great, by the way,” you said, fingers laced through his like it meant nothing. “very convincing. the protective arm thing? ten out of ten.”
he glanced down at your hands still together. he nodded slowly. “i studied for the role.”
you grinned. “you’re a natural.”
he tried not to think too hard about it, but of course he did anyway. because holding hands wasn’t a big deal. except it was, except it was a big deal when it was you. but he kept walking next to you, hand in hand, and his brain just quietly melted. you were still holding his hand. you pointed at the wendy’s sign ahead like it was a beacon of hope. “we feast,” you declared.
he laughed under his breath, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do with all the emotions bouncing around in his chest. he didn’t know where this was going, he didn’t know what this meant. but he knew he wanted more of this — your hand, your jokes, your version of terrible food decisions. and maybe that was enough for now.
the wendy’s was almost empty, just a sleepy guy mopping the floor in the corner and a cashier humming quietly behind the counter. you walked straight to the self-ordering kiosk with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before, tapping the screen. sunghoon stood behind you, close enough that he could read the menu too, but mostly because the screen was small and the space was narrow. it wasn’t like he planned it, he just stepped forward once and then didn’t step back.
you didn’t seem to mind. you were scrolling through the combo options, talking to yourself. “okay, nuggets are too risky. fries, obviously. double cheeseburger, or do you want the one with the weird barbecue sauce again?” you didn’t turn around, just asked, still facing the screen, “what do you want?”
and he wasn’t thinking. not in a conscious way. he was just staring at the back of your head, at the way your shirt was falling off one shoulder slightly, at how close you were, at how warm his chest felt from where you were just standing in front of it like it was nothing.
so he said it. like it wasn’t anything at all.
“you.”
you laughed immediately. the kind of laugh that came out of your nose and mouth at the same time, short and surprised and familiar. you kept tapping the screen like you hadn’t heard him properly, or like he was joking. but sunghoon didn’t laugh, he didn’t say anything else. and you paused.
you turned around slowly, still half-grinning, clearly ready to tease him, but then you looked up and saw that he wasn’t grinning back. he was just looking down at you, like this wasn’t a joke. like he didn’t care that it was happening next to a laminated poster of a frosty.
and something in your expression shifted too. the smile faded, but not in a bad way, just softened, slowed down. like whatever you’d been holding back was now impossible to keep behind the usual banter. so you stared at him for a second, head tilted slightly, like you were trying to decide if you were allowed to do what you were about to do.
and then you did it anyway. you reached up, grabbed the front of his hoodie, and pulled him down toward you. not roughly, not urgently, just with purpose, and he didn’t hesitate, didn’t question it, didn’t even breathe before his mouth was on yours.
he didn’t stop to think about it, didn’t hesitate, didn’t calculate angles or worry about logistics, which was rare for him. he just moved. his heart was doing something that felt like a cross between a drum solo and a panic attack. he could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck, which was annoying because that always happened when he was nervous, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now because your face was right there and your lips were already on his and he was kissing you.
he was kissing you. okay. okay. this was happening.
his first thought was that your lips were soft, which was so cliché and unoriginal he immediately scolded himself internally, but then he had no time to think of anything better because your hands were still on his hoodie, still holding him close, and his own hands had instinctively gone to your waist and stayed there like they knew what to do even though his brain absolutely did not.
it was warm. not just physically, but in that weird way where everything around him felt quiet all of a sudden, even though there was still the distant hum of the soda machine and the soft squeak of the mop across the tile floor. the kiss wasn’t perfect, his nose got in the way a little. he turned his head too far at first and had to readjust, which made him silently panic for a second like wait did i ruin it did she notice oh my god i bumped her tooth, but you didn’t pull back, you just leaned in more.
your mouth tasted like sprite and some other food vaguely artificial and it should’ve been gross but somehow it wasn’t. somehow it just felt real and simple. like this was something you did, apparently. kissed each other now. this was now part of the routine.
his hands gripped your sides gently like he was making sure you didn’t vanish. he didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. three seconds? ten? a full minute? he couldn’t tell. time had stopped cooperating with him. all he knew was that you were kissing him like you meant it, like this wasn’t an accident or a joke or a weird side quest in a long friendship. like this was on purpose.
his brain tried to catch up the entire time. there were at least four full thoughts bouncing around at once, all useless:
1. what if this is a dream and i wake up and i’m still on the couch with chips on my chest.
2. i don’t know what to do with my thumbs. why do thumbs exist?
3. i can’t believe she just kissed me next to a wendy’s totem.
4. i don’t want this to stop.
and then, eventually, it did stop.
you pulled back just slightly, enough to breathe, enough to look up at him. but you didn’t move away. you stayed close, like you weren’t done, like you just needed a second. so he stood there, hands still on your waist, completely unsure of what his face was doing. his mouth might’ve been slightly open, he didn’t know. his thoughts were still lagging a full minute behind his body.
you looked at him and said, “so that’s how we’re doing this now.”
his brain was still stuck on the kiss, but he blinked, nodded once, and somehow said, “apparently.” you tilted your head just a little, searching his face for something, and he realized he probably looked like a deer that had wandered into traffic and liked it. he cleared his throat, but his voice still came out low and uneven when he said, “i’m not complaining.”
you exhaled slowly, and then you smiled again, this time real and unguarded and a little too big. “first kiss next to a wendy’s kiosk. this is what dreams are made of.”
“honestly,” he said, “it’s probably the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me in a fast food place.”
you laughed, resting your forehead briefly against his chest. “mine too. tragically.”
he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy again, but it wasn’t the bad kind of shy. it was the kind that made him want to say things he’d been sitting on for weeks. “so,” he started, “there’s something else i should probably admit.”
you looked up. “okay?”
he hesitated. “you know that gym across my street? the one you’ve been defending for months?”
you narrowed your eyes. “yeah…”
he cleared his throat. “so. uh. i was the one taking it back every time. team valor. red guy with the dragonite.”
your mouth dropped open slightly. “you’re shadyhoon420?”
he winced. “in my defense, i made that username in like 2018. it was funny then.”
“it’s still funny now,” you said, shaking your head. “i thought shadyhoon420 was some twelve-year-old with too much free time.”
“nope,” he said. “twenty-something with unresolved competitive issues.”
you laughed again, full-body this time, like you couldn’t believe it. “you were trolling me for months.”
“i was trying to win,” he said. “you were annoyingly good.”
“you were annoying in general.”
“and yet here we are,” he said, glancing down at you, still tucked into his chest. “making out in a wendy’s.”
you rolled your eyes, but not in the real way. more like you were trying not to grin again. your hands were still holding onto the front of his hoodie, like letting go didn’t feel necessary yet. and he didn’t want you to. his hands hadn’t moved either, they were still resting on your waist, warm and steady, like his body knew what his brain was still trying to accept, that this wasn’t hypothetical anymore, it was real. it had happened. you kissed him, and he kissed you back.
he didn’t say anything else right away. not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because he was still sorting through the fact that for weeks, maybe longer, he’d been inching closer to you in little ways — a leg under the blanket, a hand brushing yours, a text that was maybe too honest — and now suddenly there was no more guessing. you’d pulled him in. you kissed him. you’d looked him in the face like you were just as tired of waiting.
and somehow it wasn’t weird, it wasn’t awkward. it didn’t feel like something they’d both laugh off tomorrow and pretend didn’t happen. it felt like something that had been quietly building in the background, so slowly neither of them had wanted to be the one to name it out loud, until you just did.
and now he was standing there, still in your arms, still close enough to feel the warmth of your breath on his neck, realizing that something had already started. not five minutes ago. not in the middle of the kiss, but way earlier. maybe on that first night on the couch. maybe the first time you texted him about something dumb at 2 a.m. or maybe the first time you knocked his leg with yours and didn’t move it away. and whatever it was, it wasn’t a maybe anymore.
and honestly, standing there in front of a glowing touchscreen that still said “order now” in giant, red font, that felt exactly right. because of course it would be like this, not planned, not perfect. just stupidly casual and somehow kind of perfect anyway.
you pulled away first, but only a little, and said, “okay, romantic moment over. i’m starving.”
“yeah,” sunghoon said, blinking back into functionality. “same.”
you turned back to the kiosk, finally placing the order, laughing again when he insisted on extra fries “because i feel emotionally vulnerable and carbs help.” you didn’t make fun of him. you just nodded like, yeah, that tracks. and when the food came out, you grabbed the tray and headed to the corner booth, the one you two always sat in when the place was empty, which it still was. it felt like your booth now, like it had seen things, like it knew too much.
you sat down first, immediately curling one leg under yourself and holding the burger with two hands like it was sacred. sunghoon sat next to you, not across, not leaving space, but right beside you like always, except this time, his arm went around your shoulders the second he sat down, no hesitation, no awkward pause. and you didn’t just lean into him like before. you really leaned.
your head dropped to his shoulder for a second before you took your first bite, and he felt your whole body relax against his like this was exactly where you wanted to be, and it wasn’t like before. it wasn’t just a friendly lean or a casual touch, it was closer. it felt like something that had been waiting to happen and now finally had.
you both ate in silence for a minute, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty. it was full of whatever this new thing was between you. you passed fries back and forth like it was muscle memory. he picked the pickles off your sandwich without being asked. you stole his soda without warning. and he didn’t flinch when your hand found his leg under the table and stayed there. you’d done this before. sat like this, shared food, leaned into each other, stayed late until the lights started flickering. but tonight it felt different, for very kissy obvious reasons.
sunghoon looked over at you once, mid-bite, and you caught him staring. you smiled with your mouth full and said, “don’t get all sappy on me.”
he shrugged. “too late.”
you shook your head and leaned into him again, chewing quietly, like it was no big deal. but he knew it was, and he knew this was only the beginning. and he also knew — later, when you were walking home and holding hands again like it was completely natural — that he was fully, entirely, probably hopelessly into you. and he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore.
the weeks after that night at wendy’s were weird in the least dramatic way possible. nothing major changed. you were still texting dumb questions to each other and you were still stealing his fries like they were community property. but now you kissed him, now he could hold your hand without pretending he was reaching for something else. now he could rest his chin on top of your head when you were sitting on the couch and no one would say anything sarcastic about it. it was new, but it also felt like it had already been there the whole time, just waiting for someone to label it.
sunghoon had fully expected to be awkward about it. and to be fair, sometimes he was. he still got weirdly quiet when you called him “babe” for the first time, and he once accidentally called you “dude” right after kissing you and spent the next two hours apologizing. but mostly, things were good, comfortable and fun.
you started doing more couple-y stuff without needing to make it A Thing. you grocery shopped together, you did laundry at the same time, folded each other’s hoodies like an old married couple, and argued over the right way to hang dry t-shirts. you went to a mini golf place that was weirdly intense about rules, and sunghoon realized you were more competitive than him, which was saying something.
he started to show you more of the things he usually kept to himself. like his half-written playlist ideas. like the folder of blurry phone videos he took of you without meaning to. like the fact that he still had a high score on fruit ninja and was proud of it. and one night, after you’d been watching some random youtube rabbit hole of early 2000s pop rock videos and you said, “ugh i forgot how much i loved mcfly,” sunghoon sat there in silence for a second before quietly saying, “i need to play falling in love for you.”
he played it slowly, a little shakily. he forgot a chord halfway through and mumbled something that wasn’t a word, but you didn’t laugh. you didn’t make fun of him. you just sat there listening like it was your favorite thing he’d ever done. and when he finished, you kissed his cheek and said, “you’re disgusting. i love it.”
after that, he stopped holding back so much. he let himself be more flirty, more open, more ridiculous. and to his surprise, you were just as bad, maybe worse. you texted him things like “miss ur dumb face” even if you’d seen him three hours ago. you’d randomly send voice notes where you just said “hi” in different tones and asked him to rate them.
and that’s when sunghoon realized something big: you were just as emotionally reckless as him.
you made plans too early. you got soft too fast. you saved pictures of things that reminded you of him and showed them later like it was nothing. and he was so used to being the one who caught feelings first that it completely broke his brain a little. so he started noticing it in small things. like how you’d always scoot closer to him even if there was already zero space left on the couch. or how you remembered random things he said in passing and brought them up a week later like they were important. or how your entire face changed when he walked into a room, even if you were pretending to be cool about it.
and then one night, when you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, he blurted something out without meaning to. “did you and heeseung ever date?”
you looked up, blinked. “what?”
“i mean,” he said quickly, “not that it matters now. i just. i always kinda thought there was something there. like before.” you chewed slowly, still staring at him. “like,” he continued, clearly panicking now, “not in a jealous way. i just thought maybe you two had a thing. the way you talked. i don’t know. i used to overthink it. a lot. i almost stopped talking to you once because of it. which is dumb. very dumb.”
you swallowed, still looking at him like he’d just admitted he once ate a shoe. then you said, “sunghoon. heeseung and i bonded over the fact that we both had a crush on the same person.”
he blinked. “wait. what?”
“it was you.” he stared at you, spoon halfway to his mouth, not moving. “i’m kidding,” you said, snorting. “he had a crush on someone else. i just liked you. he used to give me pep talks about it.”
sunghoon’s brain did not know what to do with that information. “so… you liked me back then?”
“yeah,” you said, chewing again. “obviously.”
he was quiet for a long second. then: “cool.”
you smiled at him, mouth full, and kicked his foot under the table. he kicked you back. and that was that.
the first time you and sunghoon went out with everyone again, it was a thursday night. which already made it feel less official, like no one could accuse anyone of being too romantic if it was a weeknight. you and sunghoon had been in your thing for a few weeks now, whatever it was. there still wasn’t a label. no one had said “we’re dating” or “we’re together.”
but he kissed you when he saw you. he held your hand while you scrolled through takeout menus. he stayed up late with you watching videos of frogs in tiny hats. you were his. i mean, probably. almost definitely. he just hadn’t said it out loud yet and neither had you. and now, somehow, you were going to a bar together like that wasn’t the most emotionally dangerous setting in the world.
sunghoon wasn’t nervous, exactly. but he also had no idea how he was supposed to act. was he supposed to sit next to you or leave a one-person buffer zone? was he allowed to have a hand on your back when you walked in, or was that too much? could he kiss your cheek in public? would that be weird? was not doing it weirder?
you, of course, didn’t seem to be thinking about any of this. you wore that skirt he liked. you stole one of his rings before you left the apartment and didn’t even say anything about it. you walked next to him like nothing was different. and for you, maybe it wasn’t. maybe this was all normal. maybe you were normal. sunghoon, meanwhile, was just trying not to look suspicious.
they got there a little late. jay and jungwon were already posted up at the booth like they'd been born there. jake was at the bar talking to someone who may or may not have been his date, or just someone he was bothering. heeseung was somewhere, probably emotionally observing the room from the shadows like he always did. and as soon as sunghoon and you walked in together, everyone looked up. they all did the same thing: that casual glance, followed by the silent smirk, followed by the overly casual “oh hey, you made it” that clearly meant oh hey, we know what’s going on here.
sunghoon didn’t react, just nodded once, tried to be cool. completely missed the chair when he went to sit down and had to pretend he meant to lean sideways.
jay knew. of course jay knew. jay had known before sunghoon even knew. jungwon knew because jay knew. jake knew because heeseung knew, and heeseung knew because heeseung knew everything. and now all of them knew. all of them were being polite about it, but they knew. the only people who didn’t know that everyone knew were you and sunghoon.
you sat next to him, thigh against his, arm slung casually over the back of the booth, like it was no big deal. like you did this all the time. and maybe you did, now. maybe this was your thing. but sunghoon still didn’t know where to put his hand. he settled for resting it on his leg, then moved it, then put it back. he wanted to put his arm around you. he just didn’t want to make it A Thing.
jay raised an eyebrow across the table, very subtle. sunghoon glared at him. you leaned over and whispered something about the drinks being overpriced and then rested your head against his shoulder for half a second like it was nothing. sunghoon felt every cell in his body shift three degrees to the left. he didn’t even hear what jay was saying. he was too busy pretending to be normal. jungwon looked like he wanted to say something. jake looked like he was writing fanfiction in his head.
someone made a toast. someone spilled something. someone brought fries to the table and you immediately took three and fed one to sunghoon without thinking about it, and that’s when he saw the look on jake’s face. pure glee. jake mouthed awww like a traitor. sunghoon blinked and looked at you. looked at the group and realized: they all knew. they were all just pretending not to know.
he looked down at his fry, chewed slowly. whispered, “we’re not being subtle, are we.”
you looked at him, smiled, and said, “do you want to be?”
he blinked again. “not really.”
you leaned in and kissed his cheek. sunghoon thought he might combust, but in a good way. and across the table, jay, jungwon, and jake all gave each other the most painfully smug looks sunghoon had ever seen. it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. you were still close, your hand was in his lap now. you were talking to heeseung like nothing was happening. sunghoon was still alive (probably). and whatever this thing was between you two, it wasn’t labeled yet. but it was something, and maybe that was enough for now.
you left the bar a little past midnight, not totally sober but not out of it either, that sweet spot where everything was a little funnier and a little louder and no one was ready to admit they were already tired. it wasn’t freezing out, but you still tugged on sunghoon’s sleeve like your arms didn’t work and said, “i’m cold. fix it.” so he handed you his jacket without hesitation, which you immediately put on and did not zip up, because apparently the rules of temperature didn’t apply to you. the sleeves covered your hands and the shoulders were too big and you looked stupidly good in it, which made sunghoon feel something deep in his chest he chose not to name.
you walked in silence for a few steps, close but not touching, until you bumped your hand into his once, twice, and then just took it like it was yours. which, at this point, it basically was. “so,” you said, casual, like you hadn’t already been curled up next to him in a booth for the last three hours, “you wanna come over?”
sunghoon blinked. “like… now?”
you raised an eyebrow. “no, next tuesday.”
he blinked again, because his brain had chosen violence and was now playing a full powerpoint presentation of possible meanings behind that sentence. he was trying very hard to be normal, to just smile and nod and say something charming, but instead he said, “uh-huh. okay. sure. i mean, unless you were just being polite and i—”
“sunghoon.”
“yep.”
“do you wanna come over?”
he nodded, fast. “yeah. yes. definitely.”
you grinned like you knew exactly what he was doing: spiraling, overanalyzing, trying to decide if “come over” meant snacks and a rerun or if it meant come over come over.
your place was a ten-minute walk, but it felt like thirty-five because sunghoon’s brain would not shut up. he wasn’t panicking, not really, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this wasn’t just another hangout. something about the way you asked felt different. something about the way your hand kept tightening around his, like you were already thinking about where it would be once you got upstairs.
by the time you were at your door, you were still holding his hand and sunghoon’s heart was going fast enough that he had to pretend he wasn’t out of breath just from standing there. you unlocked the door and looked at him over your shoulder. “you coming in or are you just gonna stand there looking like you’re being peer pressured by a ghost.”
he stepped inside. “i’ve never been peer pressured by a ghost, for the record.”
you tossed your keys on the counter and kicked off your shoes. “there’s a first time for everything.”
he toed off his sneakers slower, trying to figure out where to stand, what to say, how to breathe like a functioning adult. you pulled off his jacket, handed it back to him, and then did that thing where you walked past him, brushing your hand across his lower back like it didn’t mean anything, even though it absolutely did.
he stared at the floor. then at the fridge. then at you, who was now grabbing two glasses and saying something about trying a new wine that tasted like “grape juice with peach” and he had no idea what it meant or what to do with his hands, or his mouth, or his entire existence. because the truth was: he liked you. he really really really liked you. and he’d been pretending not to want more, not to think about what it’d be like to stay over, to fall asleep next to you and wake up next to you and maybe never go home again. he’d been pretending it was casual. because pretending was safer, pretending didn’t risk messing anything up.
and now here you were, in your apartment, handing him a glass of bad wine and looking at him like you were waiting to see if he’d finally catch up. “you okay?” you asked, leaning against the counter, glass in hand, looking a little too pretty for someone under yellow kitchen lighting.
he cleared his throat. “me? yeah. totally fine. great. really calm.”
you tilted your head. “you sure?”
“yep.”
you walked over slowly, standing in front of him now, wine still in one hand, the other reaching up to brush the hair off his forehead. “you’re freaking out.”
“i’m not,” he said, eyes wide.
“you are.”
“i’m— okay, i’m slightly freaking out.”
you smiled and leaned in, close enough that your breath hit his neck. “wanna know a secret?”
“always,” he said, voice lower than he meant it to be, because everything about this moment was doing something strange to his brain.
you leaned in just a little more, like you were going to whisper something, and he instinctively tilted his head toward you, breath caught, waiting. “i’ve been thinking about kissing you all night,” you said, soft but direct, like you were telling him something about the weather. “like, not just kissing. you know.”
sunghoon froze for a second. not cartoon-style. just momentarily lost control of every muscle in his body. his first instinct was to deflect, make a joke, say something stupid. throw himself out the window, maybe. but he didn’t, not this time. because his second instinct — the real one, the one under all the fake calm — was to kiss you right now. fully and properly, like he hadn’t been holding back for weeks.
you raised an eyebrow, watching him short-circuit, and said, “too much?”
he shook his head. “no. i just. wow. okay.”
“you okay?” you asked again, but this time there was a small smile on your lips, and it was very clear you knew the answer.
he nodded. “yeah. i just wasn’t ready to hear that sentence. and now it’s all i’m hearing.”
you laughed a little and stepped even closer, your body brushing up against his. “do you want me to say it again?”
he swallowed hard. “maybe later.”
you bit your lip, not in a calculated way, just like it was a reflex, and something about that made something snap a little inside him. he set his glass down on the counter, gently, like he needed both hands for whatever was about to happen. then he looked at you and said, “i don’t really want to keep pretending i’m not into you in a completely embarrassing way.”
“good,” you said, fingers grazing the hem of his shirt now, slow, testing. “because i was getting kinda tired of pretending not to notice.”
he leaned in finally, mouth close to yours but not quite there yet, and asked, “so we’re not pretending anymore?”
“nah,” you whispered. “let’s be very real.”
and that’s when he kissed you. not like before, not soft or quick or questioning. this one was different. his hands were on your waist, pulling you in like he was done pretending you weren’t all he’d been thinking about. your hands slid up his chest and curled behind his neck, like you were grounding yourself. like you’d been waiting for this, too.
at some point, you mumbled something against his mouth — maybe his name, maybe just a sound — and he breathed out a quiet “god, you make me crazy” before he could even think about it.
you pulled back just slightly, eyes a little dazed, and said, “you’re gonna say stuff like that and then expect me to behave?”
“no,” he said, already leaning in again. “definitely not.”
you were backing him toward the hallway now, hand still tangled in his hair, mouth still on his, and every nerve in his body was firing off in every direction at once, but none of it felt panicked anymore. it just felt like finally. like this was where all of it had been leading: the late nights, the inside jokes, the pretending-not-to-care casual touches that had never really been casual at all.
sunghoon's back bumped softly into the wall and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. your body was pressed to his now, fully, and your mouth moved down to his jaw, then to the side of his neck, slow and unhurried, like you were trying to memorize the way he felt. his hands were on your waist, thumbs sliding under the hem of your shirt without meaning to, like they’d decided on their own that they wanted more. and the thing was, so did he. he wanted more. not just physically, though that was part of it. but everything, all of it. the way you looked at him like he was worth undivided attention, the way you touched him like you weren’t scared of what it meant, the way you weren’t hesitating now.
he had no idea what he was doing, not really. but it didn’t matter, not with the way your fingers had found their way under his shirt now too, trailing up his ribs like you were checking if he was real. he was starting to think he wasn’t. you leaned back just enough to look at him, your face close, breathing uneven. “you good?” you asked, voice low, teasing, but still somehow gentle.
he nodded, barely. “yeah. i just…” you waited, eyes flicking to his lips again, like you already knew what he was about to say. “i really want you,” he said, quiet but steady, “and i’m trying not to freak out about it.”
you smiled, something softer now, less teasing, and leaned in again, your mouth brushing his as you said, “then don’t.”
and he didn’t. he kissed you again, deeper this time, one hand sliding up your back, the other staying low on your waist, anchoring you to him. you pulled him away from the wall slowly, guiding him back toward your room with nothing but your body pressed into his and the way you kissed him like you’d been waiting just as long. his hands were shaking a little, but not in a bad way. in the way that came from finally letting go of all the restraint he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying.
you turned around once, just before stepping through the door, and looked at him, not playful this time, not challenging, just full of whatever this was between you. then you pulled him in by the front of his shirt, and he followed, heart pounding, completely undone by how easy it felt to say yes to you.
he followed you into the room, one of his hands went straight to your waist, pulling you in again, and the other slid into your hair like he was finally done pretending he didn’t want to touch you like this. you looked up at him, mouth parted, breathing a little uneven now, like maybe you weren’t expecting him to get like this, not this sure of himself. “you okay?” he asked, echoing your earlier words, voice low now and just barely smug. “you’re looking a little... distracted.”
you blinked at him, caught off guard for half a second. “you think you’re funny now?”
“no,” he said, fingers slipping under the back of your shirt as he leaned in, “i think i’m winning.”
you didn’t say anything. just kissed him again, rougher this time, like you were challenging him to keep up, and he did. he moved with you, pressed into you, kissed you back like he finally knew he could. he walked you backward without breaking the kiss, hands firm on your waist, pushing you gently until your legs hit the edge of the bed. you sat first, pulling him down with you, and he smiled against your mouth as you tugged at his shirt like you were losing patience.
“you’ve been thinking about this too, huh?” he murmured against your throat, voice dark and teasing, lips brushing that spot right under your jaw that made your knees weak. you didn’t answer, just mouthed at his neck in retaliation. he chuckled. “yeah,” he whispered. “me too. been losing my mind over you.”
“shut up,” you said, though your hands were already sliding under the hem of his shirt.
“make me,” he said, and you actually laughed, this breathless, surprised sound that turned into a half-moan when his mouth found that spot below your jaw you didn’t even know was there. he pulled back for a second, just long enough to look at you. your hair was a little messy, your lips were red, your hands were still on him, and he couldn’t believe he’d spent so many nights trying to act casual about you.
and sunghoon — who had once nearly passed out just from you holding his hand at wendy’s — now had you under him, fingers teasing at your waistband, mouth trailing along your collarbone, fully lost in the way you were looking at him like you wanted everything at once.
you shifted under him, hips tilting up slightly. his hands were more confident now, not just hovering or tracing but gripping, like he didn’t want to miss any part of you. one hand slid up under your shirt, palm warm against your stomach, and he felt you tense just a little, then relax into it completely.
you tugged him closer, thighs parting so he could fit between them, and he fit there like he belonged, grinding down slowly, testing. your breath hitched, nails digging into his shoulders, and that did something to him. he groaned quietly, not on purpose, and you caught it. your fingers were in his hair again, tugging a little now, and he swore under his breath when your teeth grazed his bottom lip. your shirt was pushed up now, not off yet, but enough for his hands to explore, and his mouth followed the trail — slow kisses down your neck, then across your chest, lingering just long enough to make you arch into him. your breath hitched again, and he looked up at you, completely gone.
“tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, serious for a second, low and right against your skin.
you shook your head. “don’t.”
your hands were under his shirt now, greedy and warm, and he let out a shaky breath as you slid them up his back. “fuck,” he muttered. “you feel so good—better than i ever imagined.” he kissed you again, hungrier this time, like he wanted to memorize your mouth. “you’re so fucking pretty, y/n. can’t believe i get to touch you.”
your shirt was off now, just tugged over your head and dropped somewhere behind you, and sunghoon stared for maybe a second longer than he meant to. not out of shock, but because he couldn’t believe you were real. that this was real. that this was actually happening. and then you reached for the hem of his shirt, fingers cool against his stomach, and that was it, he was done pretending he had a single functioning thought left in his head.
he let you pull it over his head, arms moving clumsily, breath already shallow. your hands were on his skin before the fabric even hit the floor, sliding up over his chest, across his shoulders, and he had to physically stop himself from just collapsing into you. you bit your lip when his hips rolled into yours again, slower this time, like he was testing the friction. your breath caught, and you arched into him without thinking. “hoon…”
his whole body shuddered when you said his name like that. “god, you sound so good,” he breathed. “you don’t even know what you do to me.” his hands were back on your waist now, warm and grounding, and he kissed you again, slower, sweeter, like he wanted to savor the taste of you. “you’re not gonna get rid of me after this, you know,” he whispered into your mouth. “not after i’ve had you like this.”
you smiled a little, breathless. “who said i wanted to get rid of you?”
that made him pause for a second, just to look at you again, like he couldn’t believe this was really happening. “jesus,” he muttered. “you’re gonna ruin me.”
you pulled him down for another kiss, hands slipping lower, dragging your fingers across the waistband of his pants. he groaned when your palm brushed over him through the fabric, hips twitching like he couldn’t help it. “fuck, baby,” he hissed, “you’re making it really hard to be gentle.”
“then don’t be.”
he let out this low, disbelieving laugh like you’d just told him the best secret in the world. tugging your skirt and panties down, he kissed his way along your hips and lower, dragging his mouth over your skin like he was savoring you already. “every part of you… perfect,” he whispered, eyes flicking up just once to see your chest rising, lips parted. “i wanna touch you everywhere.”
and he meant it. his hands were warm and steady, spreading over your thighs, your waist, your stomach, exploring you like you were something rare. he took his time, like he’d waited too long to rush now, brushing his fingers gently along your inner thigh, coaxing goosebumps to rise under his touch. you were already shivering with anticipation when he kissed the inside of your knee, then higher, then higher again.
you whimpered, hips lifting involuntarily, and he kissed down your stomach slowly, lips dragging over your skin like a promise. his hands settled on your thighs, thumbs stroking gently over the soft skin there. then he paused, and his eyes flicked up to yours, darker now, but still so soft.
“can i taste you?” he asked, voice quiet but low with need. “please, baby. i need it.” your breath caught. your fingers threaded through his hair almost instinctively as you nodded, thighs parting just a little in silent answer. “yeah?” he breathed, kissing the inside of your thigh. “you’ll let me take care of you?”
“yes,” you whispered, already trembling. “sunghoon, please.”
he groaned, like that was all he needed to hear. “thank you,” he murmured, kissing higher. “gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”
and then his mouth was on you, tongue sliding between your folds with that slow, deliberate stroke, and your whole body jolted under him.
“fuck—so sweet,” he groaned, his voice muffled against you. his fingers came up to part you gently, spreading you open so he could really taste you. “you’re unreal, baby. can you feel how wet you are for me?”
you gasped, back arching, one hand gripping the sheets while the other tangled in his hair like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. he groaned again when you tugged, clearly enjoying every reaction he pulled from you. he licked into you like he was starved for it, slow at first, methodical, dragging his tongue in long strokes and humming low when your thighs tensed around his shoulders. then, when he sucked your clit into his mouth, you cried out, hips bucking off the bed, and he held you down firmly, not letting up for a second.
“that’s it,” he said against you, his breath hot and his tone ragged. “so fucking good for me.”
you couldn’t even speak, just moaned and gasped, feeling your whole body coil tighter and tighter as he kept working you over with that perfect mouth. your thighs were trembling now, breath shaky, every nerve strung taut. he reached up, lacing your fingers with his, grounding you just as the pressure tipped over into something explosive. “come for me,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing. “let me have it.”
and you did. you shattered beneath him, shaking, your body clenching and curling in on itself as the orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. you called his name, half gasp, half cry, pulling at his hair with one hand and squeezing his hand tight with the other. your body stuttered, hips twitching, thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stop until your whimpers turned desperate, overstimulated and wrecked.
“okay,” you panted, tugging weakly at his shoulder. “okay—hoon—please…”
he finally pulled back, lips shiny, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely wild with awe. he looked like he’d just seen god, and maybe he had. you. unraveling for him, only for him. “you’re…” he started, voice rough as he crawled back up your body, kissing your stomach, your chest, your throat, your jaw. “you’re fucking perfect. i’ve never—never wanted someone like this.”
you cupped his face as he hovered over you, and he leaned into your touch instantly, forehead pressed to yours, his breathing still ragged, like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. “you don’t even know what you do to me,” he whispered, voice hoarse and low. “i’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”
you kissed him again, slower this time, your fingers brushing through his hair, and he deepened it with a quiet groan, like he needed to taste you to keep himself grounded. when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his eyes were wild and soft all at once, like he was overwhelmed by you. “feel that?” he murmured, pressing his hips down against yours. “you make me this fucking desperate, baby.”
you gasped when he rolled his hips again, perfectly slow, perfectly cruel. “can still taste you on my lips,” he said, kissing you once more. “i want you to taste it too.” the kiss this time was messier and you could feel yourself melting into it. he kissed you like he wanted you ruined, like he needed you wrecked and shaking and breathless. and you were close already, so close again from just that, from the way he said your name like a secret prayer.
“turn over for me,” he whispered suddenly, voice dipped in reverence. you did, your body trembling a little with anticipation as you shifted onto your stomach, heart racing. he traced your spine with his fingers, slow and deliberate, until both hands settled at your waist. “you’re unreal,” he whispered, and he meant it. “do you know that? the way you sound, the way you feel… i could lose my mind just looking at you.”
he leaned down then, mouth brushing the back of your shoulder, trailing kisses down your spine as his hands slid down, thumbs spreading gently over your hips like he was committing every inch of you to memory. “you drive me crazy,” he murmured. “every time you look at me, every time you laugh… fuck, i’m so gone for you.”
and when he kissed the back of your thigh, slow and lingering, you felt it everywhere, like heat blooming under your skin. “let me take my time with you,” he said, kissing his way back up. “wanna make you feel good. wanna make you remember this.”
you could only nod, breath caught in your throat, hands fisting the sheets beneath you. because sunghoon didn’t just want to touch you, he wanted to worship you. his hands smoothed over your hips, firm but reverent, as he bent down, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine. “you’re shaking,” he murmured, voice laced with awe. “still so sensitive, aren’t you?” you nodded, cheek pressed to the sheets, body already reacting to the weight of his touch. “but you’re taking it so well,” he whispered, one hand sliding between your thighs, coaxing them apart again. “you’re such a good girl for me.”
you gasped when his fingers found you, already soaked, still fluttering from the last time. “look at this,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through the slick mess he left behind. “this pretty little pussy just begging for more.”
you whined, pressing back against his hand without even meaning to, and he chuckled low behind you. “you want it again?” he asked, voice almost gentle. “need me to make you feel good, baby?”
“yes,” you breathed. “please.”
that was all he needed. he leaned down again, kissing the swell of your ass before spreading you open with both hands. and then he dipped his head, tongue sliding between your folds. you cried out, hips jolting, the sudden pleasure overwhelming. he groaned, licking you from behind like he was starving for it. you buried your face into the mattress, fingers clawing at the sheets, the stretch of your body making every sensation sharper.
his hands gripped your thighs as his mouth worked you open all over again, licking and sucking with the kind of desperation that made your knees weak. and then his hand slid under you, fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit as his mouth stayed on you, wet and relentless.
“that fucking pussy tastes so good,” he praised, voice breathless. “give it to me again. wanna feel you come on my tongue, baby.”
you were already spiraling, the pressure building fast and hot, your whole body wound so tight you could barely breathe. “fuck, sunghoon—i’m—”
and you did, again. shaking, crying out, your body going completely still before collapsing into tremors, overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth and the soft, dirty praise spilling from his lips. he didn’t stop until you were whimpering, twitching under him, begging him to stop, begging him to keep going, you couldn’t even tell anymore.
when he finally pulled back, panting, mouth glistening, he kissed your lower back and whispered: “you’re fucking perfect. i’m not done with you yet.”
he watches you as you turn over slowly, still catching your breath, your skin flushed and glowing, hair sticking to your forehead in messy strands. you’re a vision, wrecked and beautiful, lips swollen, eyes glassy, your chest rising and falling like you’ve just survived something holy. his gaze drags over you, slow, reverent, like he doesn’t know where to look first. like he wants to worship everything.
“fuck,” he breathes. “look at you…” you blink up at him, dazed and buzzing, legs still trembling from the last time he pulled you apart. his hands settle on your waist, grounding you. his thumb rubs soft circles into your skin like he’s easing you back into your body, not rushing, just feeling you.
“can i?” he asks, voice low and hoarse. there’s something almost shy in the way he says it, like he’s trying not to ruin the moment, like despite everything, he still needs to be sure you want this too.
you nod once, still breathless. “yeah,” you whisper. “please.”
his pupils darken, breath stuttering in his chest. the way you say please, oh, he could fall to his knees again just from that. he kisses you, slow at first, deep, aching, his tongue brushing yours like he’s trying to memorize your taste. and then it turns hungry, hands gripping your face like he can’t believe he gets to touch you, like he doesn’t want to come up for air. “you’re everything,” he murmurs against your lips, voice shaky. “i mean it—everything. i wanna make you feel so fucking good again.”
you let out the softest whimper, and that’s all he needs. he kisses down your jaw, your neck, between your breasts, leaves open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, taking his time. he’s not in a rush, he wants to savor you. his hand trails down, fingers brushing your inner thigh, and you part your legs for him instinctively. you’re still so sensitive, every little touch making you twitch, your hips lifting up to meet him. “this pretty pussy’s still so wet,” he groans, almost in disbelief. “you’re unreal, baby.”
his fingers slip between your folds again, dragging through the mess he made earlier, and you let out a gasp, hand flying to his wrist. “shh,” he soothes, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “i got you. just wanna make you feel good. let me take care of you, yeah?”
you nod, lips parted, already melting under his touch. he kisses you again, messy and hot, and then without warning he slides two fingers in deep, curling them just right. your mouth falls open in a silent cry, hips jerking. “that’s it,” he praises. “fuck, i love how you take me. your pussy is clinching around my fingers, baby.”
his fingers keep working you open, his mouth back on your neck, sucking dark marks into your skin like he wants to leave proof that he was here. and just when you think you’re going to fall apart again, he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “you’re mine, right?” he asks, voice like gravel. “please say it, baby”
“i’m yours,” you breathe, and it comes out shaky, desperate.
he groans like he’s losing his mind. “good girl.”
his body hovered over yours, warm and steady, and when your eyes met, something shifted, like the air grew heavier, thick with everything you both had been holding back. he kissed you like a thank you, like a silent prayer, like he couldn’t believe you were real and his all at once. then he leaned back on his knees, eyes locked on yours as he brought his hands down to the waistband of his jeans. he popped the button open with a quiet click, dragging the zipper down slow, teasing, but there was a kind of quiet urgency in his movements too, like he couldn’t wait another second to feel you again.
when he pushed his jeans and boxers down, your breath caught. he was big. thick and flushed and perfect, tip already leaking, heavy against his stomach. your mouth went dry, heat curling low in your belly as you stared, he was so pretty it almost hurt, like every inch of him was made to ruin you.
his eyes watched your face carefully, catching the shift in your expression. “yeah?” he rasped, cock twitching under your gaze. “you like what you see, baby?”
you nodded before you could think, heart hammering, thighs already pressing together. “you’re perfect,” you whispered, almost breathless.
his lips parted at that, something dark and tender flickering behind his eyes. he leaned in, hand wrapping around himself as he hovered over you again, dragging his tip through your slick folds, slow and deliberate, teasing your entrance. “fuck,” he murmured, voice ragged. “say you want me, please.”
“i want you,” you breathed, hips lifting. “hoon—i need you.”
he groaned like the sound of your voice broke something in him. and when he finally sank into you, slow, deliberate, like he wanted to feel every inch of you claiming him back, it stole the air from your lungs. he bottomed out with a shudder, forehead pressed against yours, hand cupping your jaw like he needed the grounding just as much as you did.
his tip presses in first, thick and hot, and even though your body is already soaked and aching for him, the stretch is still overwhelming. your walls flutter around him, trying to pull him deeper, but he takes his time. his hands grip your hips, grounding you as he inches in further, every slow push making your body arch and your breath catch. “fuck—baby,” he chokes, eyes fluttering shut as he feels the way you clench around him. “you feel so good… so tight. taking me so perfectly.”
you can barely hold still. your fingers grip his lower back, your mouth falls open, and a moan tears from your throat, raw, needy, helpless. he leans down, chest brushing yours, and presses soft kisses along your collarbone, whispering into your skin between every word like a prayer. “you’re unreal. unreal, baby. fuck—”
your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him in further, and he groans deep and guttural, like he’s losing control. the last inch pushes in slow, your bodies finally fully connected, the heat between you almost unbearable. you both go still for a second, breath mingling, your hearts racing in sync. your walls flutter around him again, adjusting, and his forehead drops to yours. “you okay?” he breathes, voice wrecked, like it’s taking everything in him not to move.
you nod, eyes glazed. “so full,” you whisper. “feels so good.”
he groans softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “yeah? i’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl. i promise.”
and when he finally starts to move slowly, with deep thrusts that drag against your most sensitive spots, you swear you see stars. his hips roll into yours with precision, his body fitting against you like he was built for this, for you. every stroke hits just right, every whispered praise against your cheek making you melt further into the mattress.
“you’re doing so good,” he pants. “taking me so well. your fucking pussy feels so fucking good around my cock, baby.”
you reached for him with shaking hands, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him up to meet your mouth in a hungry kiss. he groaned when your tongue slid against his, his body still trembling from the last time you came undone under him. but this time, you weren’t just going to take. you wanted to give back, to feel him fall apart for you too.
“lay back, hoon,” you whispered against his lips, voice still wrecked and sweet. “let me ride you.”
his eyes widened slightly, dark and heavy with heat, but he nodded, eager, desperate, completely at your mercy. he sank into the pillows, breath stuttering when you straddled his hips and reached between your bodies to guide him in. you both gasped at the stretch, the slick slide of him filling you again. but now it was your rhythm, your pace. slow at first, grounding yourself on his chest as you rocked your hips forward, letting him feel all of you. his hands gripped your thighs, mouth open in a silent moan as he looked up at you like he was watching something holy.
“fuck, baby,” he breathed. “you feel—jesus, you feel perfect.”
you rolled your hips again, a little faster, loving the way his voice cracked, the way his fingers dug deeper into your skin. his head fell back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut, and you leaned down to kiss along his throat, his collarbone, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. “look at me, hoon,” you whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth. “wanna see your face when you fall apart.”
he did, eyes locking with yours, glassy and wild and reverent all at once. “keep going,” he begged, barely coherent. “just like that. you’re so good. keep riding me, baby. i’m not gonna last.”
you smiled, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, kept grinding, kept giving him everything. and when his hips bucked up and he cried out your name like it was the only word he remembered, you knew you had him, ruined and wrecked and completely yours. “please, baby, i need,” he begged, barely coherent. “let me cum inside you, fuck— i need to fill you up, princess.”
you smiled and nodded, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, grinding down on him with a rhythm that had both of you teetering on the edge. his hands roamed your body like he couldn’t get enough, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. like he needed to memorize you. “fuck, look at you,” he groaned, eyes locked on where your bodies met. “riding me so good. taking me so deep. this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”
you nodded, dazed, moaning as you bounced harder, chasing the high that was coiling tight in your belly again. and he didn’t stop talking, not for a second. “you feel that, baby? how tight you are around me? fuck, i’m losing it,” he breathed, voice rough and reverent. “you’re gonna make me cum inside you, such a good girl, fuck!”
you leaned down, kissed him hard, swallowing the broken sounds spilling from his mouth. he kissed you back like he needed it to breathe, tongue desperate, hands sliding up to cup your face. you were already there, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, body shaking from how deep he was hitting, how full he made you feel. and when you clenched around him again, when your orgasm hit with dizzying force, he lost it with you, hips stuttering, hands gripping your ass as he came with a strangled moan, burying his face in your neck while he filled you up.
you held each other, trembling, hearts racing. you were still catching your breath, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat, when he slid out of you, slow and careful, like he didn’t want to let you go just yet. you barely had time to whimper at the sudden emptiness before he was shifting, lying back against the pillows with a look in his eyes that made your stomach flip.
“come here,” he murmured, voice hoarse, one hand trailing down your spine. you blinked at him, legs weak, but then he grinned, lazy and wicked, and pulled you up gently by the hips. “wanna taste you like this,” he said, guiding you forward until your thighs were straddling his face. “wanna feel the mess you made all over me.”
your breath caught. “sunghoon—”
“shh,” he whispered, eyes dark and blown wide. “you’ve been so good for me. let me be good for you now.”
he didn’t wait for permission this time. his hands gripped your thighs and pulled you down onto his mouth like he’d been starving for it. his tongue was filthy, flat and firm and everywhere, licking you clean, then messy again, kissing and sucking and moaning against your skin like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
you cried out, hips rolling without thought, thighs trembling around his head. and he took it, wanted it, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you steady. “fuck—sunghoon,” you gasped, one hand in his hair, the other braced on the headboard.
he groaned into you, the sound vibrating through your core. “that’s it, baby. ride my face. come on—fuckin’ use me.”
your thighs shook harder with every swipe of his tongue, every slick, obscene noise echoing in the room, and when he closed his mouth around your clit and sucked just right, your whole body went rigid. and when he pressed his nose around your clit and held your hips and made you grind around his face, oh god, you lost it. “that’s it,” he murmured, breathless and soaked, licking you through it. “come all over my face, baby. let me feel you fall apart again.”
and you did again. and again. until your body gave out, and you collapsed into him, trembling, boneless, his arms around your waist, kissing your thighs like they were sacred.
“you’re unreal,” he whispered, voice thick with awe. “how the fuck did i get so lucky?”
his grip softened as he felt you tremble above him, and when you finally started to come down, your thighs still quivering around his face, he slowed. but his mouth didn’t stop. he kept kissing you with soft, kitten licks, gentle, rhythmic, like he was savoring every last drop of you. little hums vibrated against your skin as he pressed sweet, worshipful kisses between your folds, almost lazy now, like he was calming you down with his tongue.
you gasped softly, too sensitive, your hips twitching with every warm, delicate lick. “can’t get enough of you,” he whispered against your heat, nuzzling between your thighs. “you taste like heaven, baby.”
he let go of your waist just enough to guide you off him, helping you lie down on the mattress with shaky limbs. and then, slow, almost reverent, he climbed over you. he kissed your inner thighs first, lips soft and warm and open. then the swell of your hips, your stomach, your ribs. each kiss was slow and full of something deeper, like he was memorizing you now, not just your body but you, soaking in every inch.
“my pretty girl,” he murmured against your skin. “my favorite thing in the world.”
his mouth reached your chest, kissing over your heart, then up the column of your throat, slow and smiling. by the time he reached your lips again, your eyes were already fluttering shut, your body humming with warmth. he kissed you sweetly, lovingly. no rush. just the kind of kiss that said you’re mine, i’ve got you, i’m still here. and when you sighed into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair again, he whispered, “i want to make you so happy.”
you were both lying there, still breathing a little unevenly, not quite ready to move. the room was warm in that quiet, post-everything way. your leg was draped over his without thinking, one of his hands resting on your stomach, steady now, grounding. the other hovered in the space between your ribs and your hip, like he wanted to touch more of you but didn’t want to push anything too far than he already did.
and sunghoon wasn’t staring on purpose, he just couldn’t stop looking at you. your hair was messy. your skin was warm. you had that look on your face like you were pretending to be calm but weren’t. and he couldn’t stop replaying the last hour in his head, not even the specifics, just the fact that it happened. it happened, you happened, with him.
you wanted him. he couldn’t believe it. because this wasn’t some almost. this wasn’t a flirty text or a maybe-lingered hug or a “did that mean something?” moment. this was real, it happened. you were here in his arms. naked. smiling. breathing slow. and the truth was — it was the best thing that had happened to him in a long, long time.
not just the sex. that was insane, amazing. unfair, honestly. but it was more than that. it was how close you let him be. it was the way you looked at him like he wasn’t just some guy. like you’d been waiting for him just as much as he’d been waiting for you. and he was trying to memorize it all. the heat of your skin under his hand. the curve of your smile when you caught him staring. the weight of your leg over his, like you weren’t planning to go anywhere.
you turned your head toward him, cheek pressed into the pillow, eyes still lazy and soft. “you’re staring.”
he blinked. “no i’m not.”
“you literally are.”
he swallowed, trying not to smile. “okay. yeah. but respectfully.”
you raised an eyebrow. “what does that even mean?”
“means i’m just... taking it all in,” he said, quieter now. “i don’t know. trying to make sure this wasn’t a dream or something.”
you didn’t laugh at that. you didn’t roll your eyes or change the subject. you just looked at him, and he looked at you, and for once, he didn’t say anything else. because for the first time in a long time, everything he wanted was already here. and he wasn’t gonna miss a single second of it.
so he shrugged, face somehow more relaxed than you’d ever seen it. “just means i’m admiring you without being weird about it.”
“you just called me your favorite thing in the world like five minutes ago.”
“and i meant it,” he said, no hesitation. “top tier. no notes.”
you smiled, then looked up at the ceiling. “this is weird.”
sunghoon blinked. “like... weird in a good way or weird like we should never do this again and i should move to another country?”
“no, dumbass.” you laughed. “like weird that this actually happened,” you said. “we’ve been circling each other forever and now we’ve crossed into, like, very naked territory.”
he turned onto his side to look at you properly, propping himself up on one elbow. “you say that like i wasn’t already fully in love with you the second you stole my last fry that one night.”
you laughed, soft and tired, and scooted closer. “you’re such a dumbass.”
“i contain multitudes,” he said, smiling.
you leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, just because it was there. just because you could now. after a few quiet seconds, he added, “i also might’ve... rehearsed stuff. in my head. like this. this whole night. not, like, in a creepy way. just. i thought about it a lot.”
“how much is ‘a lot’?”
“you don’t wanna know.”
you looked at him, eyes narrowing. “sunghoon.”
“like... entire imaginary scenarios,” he said, face slightly red now, voice muffled as he dropped back onto the pillow. “dialogue included. you said very flattering things in my head, by the way.” you started laughing, trying to muffle it into his shoulder, and he groaned. “this is the worst post-sex confession in history.”
“no, this is peak you,” you said. “romantic and slightly unhinged.”
“you make me unhinged,” he muttered, then covered his face with one hand. “i’m never speaking again.”
you reached over, peeled his hand away, and kissed his cheek. “don’t worry. you already said everything right.” he went quiet after that, just looking at you again, softer now. less flirty. more like he couldn’t believe you were real. you held the look for a second, then nudged him again. “also, i still can’t believe your pokémon username is shadyhoon420.”
“why would you bring that up now,” he whispered, betrayed.
“because you just made me see god and now i’m ready enough to bully you again.”
he groaned again, dragging the blanket up over his face. you laughed and curled into his side anyway, and even though he was pretending to be dramatic, his arm pulled you in without hesitation. and that was how you stayed. warm, tangled, slightly wrecked, and fully, unapologetically into each other.
the week after was weird. not in a bad way, just different. like, sunghoon hadn’t really planned what came after sleeping with you. his brain had mostly stopped at oh my god it’s happening, and never got around to figuring out what do i do now that it did. turns out: what he did was text you every morning like he hadn’t just seen you eight hours ago. send you playlists like he hadn’t already made three for you. randomly show up with coffee and snacks like he wasn’t trying to see you again that night anyway.
he was down bad. and he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.
he came over two days later with your favorite ice cream. not because you asked, not even because you hinted. just because he passed a convenience store and thought, she likes that one with the caramel stuff, i should get that. you answered the door in pajama shorts and one sock, took the ice cream, kissed his cheek, and said “you’re so obsessed with me” like it was a joke, but he just said “yeah” and followed you inside like it was true. because it was.
he slept over again that night. and the night after that. and the one after that. and by monday, all his stuff was still technically at his place, but his phone charger, his cologne, and three pairs of socks had somehow migrated to your apartment. you made fun of him for the socks, and he said it was “for emergency purposes,” which didn’t even make sense, but you let it slide.
you, on the other hand, got more chaotic just in a very you way. you started kissing him in the middle of sentences. reaching under his hoodie in the middle of a movie. you’d say stuff like “should we go to bed?” with your hand already halfway down his back, and when he asked “to sleep?” you’d just grin and walk off like you’ll see.
you also started calling him ridiculous things in front of other people. “my man,” “baby,” “loverboy.” jay almost choked on his drink when you casually said “sunghoonie, pass me that” in the middle of a group hang. sunghoon blinked three times in a row and handed you the drink without speaking.
you were reckless with it. you sat in his lap at his apartment like it was a chair. held his hand in public. bit his earlobe once while he was trying to explain something about pokémon raids and ruined his entire train of thought. he was spiraling, but, like, happily.
he said “i like you” at least twice a day, sometimes for no reason. he told you your hair looked nice even when it didn’t. he got quieter whenever you wore his clothes but didn’t take them back. once, when you said “you’re kinda clingy now, huh,” he just said “yeah. sorry. can’t stop.”
you didn’t mind. you teased him constantly but kissed him just as much. called him ridiculous but curled into him every night. and when he said “i think i like this version of us,” you said “me too,” and kissed the corner of his mouth like you planned to stay that close for a while. maybe longer.
sunghoon had been thinking about asking you to be his proper girlfriend for, like, a week and a half. well, technically longer. emotionally since day one. but officially? yeah, one and a half weeks of pure, uninterrupted chaos in his brain. the problem wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask you. the problem was that he wanted it too much. he wanted to do it right. he wanted it to be special, but not cringe. romantic, but not too much. surprising, but not out of nowhere. he didn’t want to scare you. but he also didn’t want you to think he was casual about this. he wasn’t. he was emotionally unwell about it, actually.
so, naturally, he did the worst possible thing: he asked jay for advice.
they were at their place, sitting on the floor, jay had just beaten him at mario kart for the third time and was in his usual post-victory smug mode when sunghoon blurted out, “do you think now’s too soon to ask her to be my girlfriend?”
jay blinked. “you literally sleep over at her place more than your own.”
“i know, but, like... we haven’t said anything. there’s been no official label. it’s like... unofficially official.”
jay stared. “sunghoon. you watched her floss her teeth while you sat on the counter eating cereal and telling her she looked cute. it’s not unofficial.”
“yeah, but what if she thinks it’s too soon?”
“too soon for what? be so fucking for real, bro.”
sunghoon groaned and flopped backwards onto the floor. “i can’t just casually be like ‘hey do you wanna be my girlfriend’ while we’re ordering chicken nuggets or something.”
“why not?”
“because this is the most important relationship of my life and i want it to sound like i’m not twelve.”
jay, full of support and zero delicacy, said, “then don’t say it while you’re ordering chicken nuggets.”
sunghoon glared at the ceiling. “useless.”
still, he spent the next few days trying to figure it out. he made a mental list of possible locations. cafes were too noisy. your apartment was too... your apartment. the bar had too many witnesses. he considered writing it down. he considered saying it in a whisper and pretending it slipped out. he considered doing nothing and just dying instead.
then it happened on a wednesday. you were walking out of a little local bookstore you dragged him into, laughing at something he said, your hand linked with his like it belonged there. the woman behind the counter, older, smiley, had said, “you two are cute. your boyfriend’s so patient.”
you laughed, still flipping through the book you bought. “i know, right?”
you didn’t correct her. you did not correct her. sunghoon short-circuited for a solid five seconds. he tried to keep walking like a normal person, but his grip on your hand got a little tighter, and his brain was already in full meltdown mode.
boyfriend. she said boyfriend. and you didn’t say oh no, we’re not dating, or oh, we’re just hanging out, or he just follows me around like a sad dog. you agreed, you claimed him. it counts. it totally counts.
he waited a whole five minutes before blurting out, “so. about that boyfriend comment.”
you glanced up. “what about it?”
“you didn’t, like... correct her.”
you tilted your head. “should i have?”
he blinked. “i mean... no. no, not if you didn’t want to.”
“i didn’t,” you said simply.
sunghoon’s brain made a sound like dial-up internet for a second. he swallowed. “cool. yeah. just checking.”
you stopped walking and looked at him. “wait. is that— were you trying to ask me something just now?”
“what? no.” he paused. “yes. maybe.”
you smiled. “sunghoon.”
“okay, yes. yes,” he said, running a hand through his hair and suddenly regretting everything he’d ever said to jay. “i’ve been trying to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend for, like, ten business days. but i kept spiraling. and then you didn’t correct that lady and i had a full-body reaction.”
you laughed, leaning into him slightly. “you could’ve just asked me.”
“i know, but i like you so much that my brain stopped working and i didn’t want to mess it up.”
“you think calling me your ‘favorite thing in the world’ before asking me to date you wasn’t already kind of intense?”
“i blacked out that night. i don’t remember saying that.”
“you did.”
“okay. good. just making sure i’m consistent.”
you leaned in and kissed his cheek, still smiling. “sunghoon, obviously i want to be your girlfriend.”
he blinked. “really?”
“yes.”
he hesitated, eyes narrowing like he’d just remembered something haunting. “even after finding out that i was your sworn enemy on pokémon go for, like, four months?”
you started laughing immediately. “you mean when you admitted you were shadyhoon420, the gremlin who stole my gym every tuesday at 3 a.m.?”
“i was fighting for my honor,” he said, dead serious.
you grinned. “and now we’re dating. weird plot twist.”
he smiled, a little crooked. “great plot twist.”
you squeezed his hand again, leaned your head on his shoulder as you walked, and said, “don’t worry, boyfriend. i forgive your crimes.”
sunghoon was never recovering from being called “boyfriend” out loud. he almost tripped on the sidewalk. he grinned, slightly dazed, like someone who just won the lottery but doesn’t know where to cash it in. you grabbed his hand again and kept walking, like it was already decided. and honestly, it kind of was.
you ended up at his place that night. neither of you really said it out loud, but that was kind of the routine now. he still pretended he needed to “grab something” from his apartment just to have an excuse to follow you around his kitchen while you made popcorn. you still pretended to ask if you were staying over when you both knew your toothbrush had lived there for two weeks. he let you steal his hoodie again. you let him kiss you every time he walked past you, which was often, because he kept “forgetting things” in the living room. at some point you both crashed on the couch with your legs over his and his head resting against yours, some episode of how i met your mother playing in the background.
he was barely listening. you weren’t either. it was just there, familiar and comfortable. then, somewhere between the episode where ted steals the blue french horn and barney pretending to have a fake job at a bank, you turned to him and said, “you know what the best part of this is?”
“the popcorn?”
“okay, second best.”
“me?”
“third best.”
he laughed, nudged your knee with his. “okay, what’s the best part?”
you turned to face him fully, your chin resting on your hand now, your expression weirdly serious but also like you were holding back a laugh. “one day,” you said, “i’m gonna tell our kids this whole story. the gyms. the snacks. the pokémon betrayal. all of it.”
he blinked. “kids?”
“future,” you added quickly. “far future. relax. no one’s getting pregnant during a rerun of season three.”
“okay. just making sure.”
you grinned. “and when i tell them, i’m gonna look them in the eyes and say: and that, kids, is how i met sunghoon.”
he stared at you, then he burst out laughing, then he kissed you. and when he pulled back, smiling like he couldn’t help it, hoodie half falling off your shoulder, popcorn completely forgotten on the floor, he said, “you’re so annoying.”
you leaned into his side. “you’re obsessed with me.”
he kissed your forehead. “yeah,” he said. “i really, really am.”
and that was that. no big speech. no sweeping declarations. no fireworks or dramatic music or anything you’d write into a script. just two slightly ridiculous people, curled up on a too-small couch, limbs tangled in the kind of way that only happens when you’ve stopped pretending to need personal space, one of them wearing a hoodie that never belonged to them in the first place, both of them halfway through a rewatch of a sitcom about love and fate and timing, while very quietly, and maybe without fully realizing it, living proof of all those things was sitting right there beside them.
and that, kids… is how you met sunghoon.
author’s note: okayyyyy i wrote this as a little gift for my best friend aka my sister, and it’s actually the first time i’ve written for sunghoon since nicest guy (which feels kinda wild) andddd i’ve always loved how i met your mother!!! my fav show everrrr nd i wanted to write something that felt like that yk just full of funny warm happy momentssssss nothing too heavy, just soft and slow-burn feelings hehe i hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it ♡
My Playlist #12 - It hurts to be something. It's worse to be nothing with you......
𑣲⋆ Song Teaser - Y/n has been pining after Evan Lee forever, but maybe he's been pining too.....
𝄞𑣲⋆ artists - evan x fem!reader
𝄞𑣲⋆ content warnings - nothing lol, fluff, misunderstandings, reader is down bad and so is evan, idiots to lovers, pining
𝄞𑣲⋆ title track - Promise by Laufey
𝄞𑣲⋆ Eunnie's lyrics - Yes im still going to write for heeseung cuz i have free will
You’ve known Evan pretty much your whole life. From that one fateful day on the pre-school playground when you’d asked him to marry you two seconds after you’d met for the first time, and he had rejected you with a brutal, “No, I don’t like you,” causing you to promptly burst into tears. He had consoled you after, frazzled by the sudden switch, and had promised to be friends with you.
And every day after that, you’d hovered around him like a bee around flowers, and you’d like to think you’ve been friends ever since. Well, kinda friends. You’re in love with him, and he lets you stick around.
He knows about your feelings for him, how could he not with the way you blatantly announce it to the entire world, flirting with him constantly. He knows about your feelings for him, and you know about his lack of the same for you. But you’d rather hang out with him even though he doesn’t feel the same, than not being in his life at all.
Evan doesn’t really mind. If anything, he’s gotten used to your cheesy flirting and random rambling about everything and nothing.
You’d convinced yourself you could live like this for the sake of your love for him. But all of that changes when you overhear him and his friends in the hallway. You’re clutching a cupcake in your hand, the kind Evan likes as you make your way to his class. Just as you round the corner you spot him, talking to his friends.
“Dude, she’s like obsessed with you. She follows you around like a puppy. Why don’t you give it a shot?” Jungwon says, chuckling amusedly.
“A cute puppy though,” Sunghoon adds cheekily, “If you’re not gonna go for it, I gladly will,”
Evan scowls at Sunghoon before answering Jungwon, “Nah, man. She’s not really my type. She talks too much and she’s too clingy, dude. She’s just too…..her.”
Your heart clenches at his answer. Now, for the first time since you’d started chasing him, your unrequited love actually hurts you, deeply. More than it ever has before. Is that really what he thought of you? You feel a lump forming in your throat as you stand outside of the class, completely still.
You wait a bit longer, more students enter class and finally you join, cupcake shoved into your bag. Evan notices you, expecting you to join him as always, but you pass by him and walk to the table in the back, not even sparing him a glance.
He frowns, confused at your out of character behaviour and before his friends could say anything, he stands up and goes to your table.
"Morning, didn’t you see me?” He asks with a disbelieving little laugh, looking down at you, hand braced on the back of your chair.
"No, I did…" you answer, voice quiet and distant, not like you at all.
His confusion grows even more and he shifts a little, now looming over you as he keeps looking at you, not used to you being so distant.
"You good?"
You nod as you keep looking in front of you, refusing to look at him and it confuses Evan even more. He gives a look to his friends, who are all looking your way. Everyone seems confused, since you've never acted this way before.
"Okay…" he sighs awkwardly before going back to his own desk with his friends.
You stayed by yourself for the rest of the day. He tried to talk to you, but you’d reply dryly, still keeping up your distant attitude so he decided to just leave you alone until the end of the day. Then he sees you, leaving the school. He quickly says bye to his friends and follow after you,
"Are we like fighting or something?" He asks, keeping up with your pace.
You only shake your head, as an answer, not glancing his way. He sighs, and gently grab your hand to make you stop walking and to turn you his way.
"Come on, talk to me, Y/n…” he says softly, pulling you closer. He gently grabs your chin with his other hand, lifting your head up to make you look at him.
"Did something happen? Do I have to beg on my knees to make you talk to me? Cause I will do it."
You frown a little, but before you could say anything, he goes down on his knees and starts dramatically begging you to talk to him. Despite everything, a little smile grows on your lips.
"Ah, here it is." He smiles as he looks up at you, "Just tell me what's going on."
You look down at him; hands wrapped around your hips as he quite literally drops to his knees.
He gives you whiplash. Like major, what-the-fuck-are-we whiplash. But the hushed words are stuck on repeat in your head, 'Too clingy' 'Talks too much' 'Too her'
You plaster a smile on your face, pushing him back by the head playfully, "Nothing's wrong."
Evan stumbles back slightly when you push him, but he doesn’t get up. He stays kneeling there on the sidewalk, tilting his head as he studies your face, the fake smile, the forced cheerfulness that’s nothing like your usual explosive energy.
"Bullshit," he says simply, voice calm but firm. No teasing now. "You've been ignoring me all day. You didn't sit with me at lunch; you never do that unless you're mad or sick." His brows knit together. "Did I... say something?"
The question comes out quiet, genuinely confused and a little worried this is actually bothering him.
"Nothing's wrong, what the hell," you chuckle quietly, stepping out of his hold. "Also get up off the sidewalk, you'll get your pants dirty,"
Evan slowly stand up, eyes trained on you like he’s trying to decipher a code, or solve a puzzle.
He doesn’t back away, he leans in. Closer. One hand slowly lifts to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing just under your eye where dark circles betray how little you slept last night, and searches your face like it holds answers written in a language only he can read.
"...You're lying," he murmurs.
Not angry. Not frustrated, not yet anyway. Maybe confused-sad because this isn't how things go between you two; usually playful teasing or loud bickering over dumb stuff, not cold silence and forced smiles.
"I'm not, I'm fine, Evan," you reassure, stepping out of his hold once again. His hand falls to his side, empty. The space between you suddenly feels wider than it ever has, even though you're only a few inches apart.
He doesn’t chase this time.
Just watches.
And something in his chest tightens when he sees how hard you’re trying not to look at him, how your shoulders tense like they're bracing for impact. You’ve never stepped away from him before. Not unless he was the one pushing you away first.
But today? It's different. You’re rejecting him. And Evan, usually so careless about feelings (especially yours), actually feels it hit like a slap.
You turn around, walking towards your house. Your heart clenches with every step.
Hurt because of his words, hurt because you'd actually thought you'd have a chance with him, hurt because you know you have to end this.... relationship, whatever one you have.
You know you can't keep chasing after someone that's never going to want you back, no matter how much it'll hurt for you to let go.
So you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat, "What happened with So-yeon the other day? I heard she confessed to you,"
"We kissed," he says honestly, no point lying, but his voice is soft, careful, "For like half a second." "Ooh, kissing straight after confessing? Scandalous," you tease, glancing up at him.
"It wasn't a big deal," he says quickly, too quickly, hands lifting slightly like he wants to reach for you but thinks better of it. "I pulled away right after."
A beat passes. Then quieter, "I told her I didn't feel that way."
"Just like you have to every single girl before her," you roll your eyes playfully, small smile on your lips. You’re looking at him like you’re next in line to be added to that list, and worse, like maybe you already are.
His face darkens slightly, not with anger, but something heavier. Regret? Guilt?
You near your house, throwing a glance back at him before walking to the door, "The Great Evan strikes again," you say with a chuckle, jogging up the stairs to your front door.
It sounds affectionate, nostalgic, like something you’d say when reminiscing about an old inside joke. But right now? It feels like the last nail in the coffin of whatever fragile thing existed between you two.
And then, you run. Up your stairs, laughing lightly with that chuckle he loves but hates hearing today because it doesn’t reach your eyes.
You don’t slam the door. You don’t look back again. You just disappear behind it quietly.
Like none of this mattered at all. Evan stands frozen on your porch, fists slowly curling at his sides.
He just stares at that closed door. You’d always make some dirty joke at times like this, with that stupid grin on your face. But now, he isn't invited.
You're already dreading the next day of school.
You've come to a decision.
You have to put an end to this, and the only way to do that is to distance yourself, for his sake and yours.
But you couldn't bring yourself to completely cut yourself out of his life, because your heart can’t handle that yet.
So, you decided to pull away slowly. Steadily. Making sure not to disturb anything. Just slipping away quietly.
You've already started it, walking to school alone for the first time since you met Evan, not waiting outside his house with a breakfast cupcake, not running up to him on the sidewalk on the odd days you were late.
Just alone, headphones on your head, playing an Olivia Rodrigo song that makes you want to cry in the best way possible.
You're humming along to the song quietly, head bopping along the beat instinctively, eyes trained on the ground as you near the school gate.
The morning air is crisp, sunlight filtering through the trees as students start trickling into school. Evan walks in with his usual lazy stride, hoodie half-up, one earbud dangling from his pocket since he’d been talking to Sunghoon on the way.
He spots you immediately. You’re alone. No cupcake. No loud greeting. No sprinting toward him like a golden retriever that missed him all night.
Just you. Headphones on, eyes down, moving slow and quiet through the gate like a ghost passing by.
His stomach drops again, because this isn’t just a one-day thing now. This is systematic, feels intentional.
Without thinking, he picks up his pace and starts heading straight for you, walking directly into your path so when you lift your head at any second, you’ll have to see him standing right there.
You pause when you spot familiar Converse in your line of sight, dirty on the soles because Evan cannot stop himself from jumping into puddles, and the label bleeding black ink because he'd tried to colour it in once and the ink had stayed.
God, you feel pathetic.
You inhale steadily before looking up at him with a smile, waving, "Good morning." The smile is soft. Polite. Not the explosive "Evanie!" that you usually greet him with, no, this is a quiet wave and a calm "Good morning" like he's just another classmate passing by.
And it destroys him. Evan doesn’t wave back. Doesn’t return your greeting right away.
He just stares. Brown eyes searching yours for something, a flicker of hurt? Anger? Anything real?
But all he sees is this fake peace.
"Early today?" you ask, amused, checking the black watch secured around your wrist.
The watch he got you for your birthday last year. The one you'd never taken off since. You make a mental note to switch it out tomorrow.
"Yeah," he finally says, voice lower than usual. "Got here early."
A pause. Then quieter, "You didn't bring me breakfast today."
"I...um had to make Ji-eun breakfast today..." you say, looking back down at the pavement now. It's not a total lie, you did have to make breakfast for your little sister today, so it's fine. Evan nods slowly, not prodding, but something cold settles behind his chest.
The silence stretches a little too long. Evan shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He wants to say something real. Something that isn't small talk about time or breakfast or Ji-eun...
But what?
"Why are you acting so weird?"
Too aggressive.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Sounds desperate.
Eunji, your best friend, comes barrelling toward you like a tornado, long ponytail swinging, backpack bouncing, that signature bright smile plastered on her face.
And just like that, you light up.
Your whole posture changes. The fake calm from earlier? Gone. You wave both arms dramatically and practically bounce on your toes when she gets close.
"Y/n!!" Eunji squeals, throwing herself into a hug with you before turning to Evan. "Oh! Morning Evan,"
Evan gives her the smallest nod back, a stiff one, and watches as Eunji immediately starts chattering about some drama from last night’s K-drama or whatever gossip is burning through their friend group right now.
You're fully engaged, laughing at something she says, adjusting your headphones around your neck, completely focused on her, not him.
"Of course," you say to her with a peck to her cheek, wrapping a hand around her waist naturally.
You turn to Evan, "See you later?"
You just kissed someone, right in front of him, and then turned to ask if you’ll see him later like it’s some casual goodbye between acquaintances. You don't add in a flirty quip like usual, ‘Wish this was you?’ with that little smirk of yours that makes him roll his eyes.
His chest tightens. Yeah," he says flatly. "See ya."
You walk past him into the school gate, heart clenching with every step but you smile at whatever Ha-eun is saying, laughing along and adding comments that make her double over
Evan walks a few steps behind, hearing your laughter. It’s bright. Unfiltered. The kind that fills the hallway, and makes heads turn, because everyone knows that laugh. Part of him wants run up to you, to say something sharp like "Why are you so happy with her and not me?", but another part shuts it down completely.
You share History with Evan. The classroom is buzzing with the usual pre-class chatter when walk in. You’re with Sunoo, another close friend of yours since middle school.
You spot Evan out of the corner of your eye instantly, an almost instinctive action in its nature, but force yourself not to glance over. You part ways with Sunoo as he sits at his usual place, and you move back to your usual place, beside Evan.
He doesn’t turn to look at you. Doesn't say anything either.
"So, what will it be today?" you begin, tone playful as usual, but your heart is beating out of your chest, "Sleep through the class or actually value your education?"
The sound of your voice, playful, teasing, the exact same way you’ve always spoken to him, hits Evan like a wave.
For half a second, his body reacts before his brain catches up.
A tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth. The instinctive urge to smirk and fire back with something stupid like, "I value my beauty sleep more."
But then he remembers. This casual joke, like nothing’s changed, feels fake. Too light for how heavy everything actually is.
So instead of smiling or answering playfully like usual, he turns slowly toward you.
Just an inch, and says, flatly, "Neither."
"Woah, that’s new," you chuckle but Evan doesn't laugh. Doesn't even try to soften his face.
"So, what does, 'neither' entail? Care to elaborate?" you ask, turning to him with an imaginary mic in your hand, looking at him with faux seriousness.
He’s seen this bit before. A hundred times. You’d pop up out of nowhere during lunch and pretend to interview him on some dumb topic, "Lee Evan, how do you feel about pineapple on pizza?" Or worse, "Do you think your nose is too big?"
And he’d always play along, grinning, throwing sarcastic answers back. But today he doesn’t smile.
Doesn’t lean into the joke. Instead, his expression stays flat. He lowers his gaze from your fake-mic hand to your eyes, and then quietly says, "I'm not gonna participate."
"Oof, we have been rejected on this momentous day, folks. Tough luck, but we will be back later with more updates," you say, a disappointed expression on your face.
He watches you perform this whole bit, fake energy pouring out of every syllable, while he sits there completely deadpan.
No eye-roll. Not even an amused twitch. When you finish your little announcer voice and drop the act slightly, he finally speaks again, quietly, just loud enough for only you to hear, "Why are you doing that?"
"Doing what? My extremely accurate impersonation of a shitty game show host?" you say with a grin, your grin is wide, too wide. Forced, even.
The kind people put on when they're trying really hard to pretend everything's fine. He narrows his eyes slightly, just a fraction, and leans back in his chair without breaking eye contact, "...You doing okay?"
The concern makes your stupid heart speed up, and your smile drops for a fraction of a second before you chuckle, "Yeah, I'm fine," The second your smile flickers, Evan sees it.
He always sees you. Every micro-expression. Every nervous twitch. The way your fingers tap when you’re lying, how your voice goes just slightly higher when you're stressed
His stomach twists. Because this isn't normal. You don’t pull away from him like this. Unless he did something.
For the first time since yesterday, his chest tightens with genuine worry, not confusion or annoyance, but actual fear that maybe... he messed up.
The teacher, Mr. Kim, strict and always on time, enters with his usual stack of papers under one arm. The class instantly quiets, chairs scraping as everyone turns forward.
You drop your playful act immediately. But, your leg is bouncing nonstop under the desk, a nervous habit you’ve had since middle school when tests made you anxious or stressed you out.
It’s subtle, just a tiny tremble against the floor, but Evan notices it anyway because he sits right beside you. And for someone who usually zones out during lectures? He suddenly becomes hyper-aware of everything.
You don’t talk for the rest of the class, but you can feel Evan’s gaze on you the entire time. The sudden ring of the bell makes you flinch, just slightly, a tiny jerk in your shoulders like you were deep in thought and didn’t realize time had passed.
You move fast. Too fast. Books snap shut. Pens get shoved into the zipper pouch without care. Your notebook goes straight into your backpack, no lingering.
No "ugh finally" sigh. No dramatic groan about how boring history was. Just efficiency.
Evan watches every motion, each one precise and detached, as he slowly packs his own things. He takes longer than normal on purpose, zipping up his bag twice, checking if he left anything behind.
But really? He’s waiting. Waiting to see if you’ll walk out first again, alone, or say something now that class is over.
You sling your bag over the shoulder, turning to him, "Still don't know what neither means by the way," you muse with a grin. That same playful, slightly mischievous smile you always wear when teasing him, like the last two days of distance never happened.
Like yesterday’s silence and coldness were just a bad dream.
And Evan hates how much that smile messes with his head. Because it's your smile, the one he sees every morning, the one that makes his chest feel warm for no reason, but right now?
It feels like a mask. A performance to hide whatever’s really going on behind your eyes.
He zips up his bag slowly, then, "Neither means," he says calmly, "I'm not sleeping through class, and I don't care about history either."
"Okay, so the third option has been added for next time. Noted," you salute him, mock-serious, two fingers to your forehead like a soldier dismissing orders, before turning around to leave class. Again.
It’s the third time today you’ve walked away from him without looking back or lingering, and each one stings more than the last because this isn't normal between you two.
You don't just leave. You always stick around after class if your next period is nearby, chat in the hallway, maybe even grab snacks together.
But now? He watches as you stride out of class alone, shoulders straight, steps quick, like escaping something. Eunji appears in the hallway again, ushering you out, and you follow with a heavy heart.
Eunji is your safe person. Your best friend since middle school, who knows everything about you, the real stuff no one else does, and right now? You need her warmth more than anything else.
You let yourself be guided down the hall, fingers tightening slightly around your backpack strap as emotion threatens to surface behind your eyes.
Evan sees this from his classroom door, and suddenly, he feels left out.
You don't see Evan till lunch next.
You're walking down the hallway, chatting with a friend, a chocolate bar in hand when you bump into something, or someone solid. The collision is soft, your shoulder hitting a solid wall of muscle and hoodie, but you still stumble back slightly, chocolate bar almost slipping from your grip.
"O-oh, fuck I'm so sorry," you apologise quickly, looking up to lock eyes with Evan. Tall as ever. Blonde hair slightly messy like he’s been running his hands through it all morning.
Brown eyes wide for half a second, surprised too, probably, before they land on yours.
"Oh, it's you," you say, an automatic smile curving your lips when you see him. The smile is instant. Polite. Friendly.
But Evan has seen it a thousand times, and usually, when you say "Oh, it's you" like this, your voice goes up an octave with excitement and your eyes light up like he just handed you a surprise present.
This one? Flat. No spark. No warmth that reaches his chest, the kind he secretly likes because it makes him feel special even though he never admits it. Then nods back in silent greeting.
"Heading to lunch?"
He shifts slightly under the weight of that normalcy, the emptiness where warmth used to be.
"Yeah," he says. "Lunch."
You glance to his right to see Jungwon, waving to him with a smile, "Hi, Jungwon-ah,"
"Hi, Y/n-ah,” he chirps in that gentle voice of his, waving back enthusiastically before turning to Evan with a look that says, ‘Why are we just standing here?’
"Sunghoon isn't here today?" you ask, turning to Evan, locking eyes with him, "I got him that chocolate he wanted so desperately,”
Evan just stares down at you, expression blank as if you hadn’t been talking to him at all. "Wow, thank you for answering my question, Lee," you say sarcastically.
The sarcasm hits like a slap because you never talk to him like that. Not ever. Even when you're mad at him for stealing your fries or forgetting your birthday (which he never does), you don’t get sarcastic.
You yell. Pout. Give the silent treatment for five minutes max, but not this cold, cutting-edge. Evan doesn’t react right away. Just stares at you.
You’re pulling away. On purpose. And now that distance has teeth, and they just bit him. Jungwon, the ever-peaceful one, clears his throat softly.
He shifts uncomfortably with both bento boxes in hand like he’s holding a bomb about to explode.
"Um…" he starts gently, "Sunghoon said he wasn’t feeling well this morning. Stomach ache."
It’s an attempt to give you something else to talk about, to change the subject before things get worse between you two. But Evan doesn’t help, doesn't jump in. Just stands there, still staring at you.
"Fuck yes, tell him I'm taking his candy then," you say as you pivot sharply, like the conversation is over and start walking away.
You feel nausea settle in your stomach as you walk away from him. The nausea isn’t physical, it’s deep, gnawing. The kind that sits low in your stomach like a stone.
He hadn't said a word to you, nothing in his expression had changed, not even a flicker of anything that might tell you that he's just as hurt by this distance as you are.
Just silence. Like what you're doing doesn't matter to him at all. And maybe that's true? Maybe he really doesn't care. It's a fool's game to expect him to care anyway.
It hurts, but you knew he wouldn't say anything. He hates confronting his feelings and hates talking about them even more.
The final bell rings, sharp and loud, echoing through the halls as students erupt into movement. Backpacks zip, chairs screech, voices rise with that post-school excitement.
You say goodbye to Eunji at her gate, a quick hug and "Text me later!" before she jogs off with her mom toward her car.
Then it’s just you. Again. Headphones in hand as you shuffle through your playlist, playing 'Nightvisions by Liana Flores' as you walk away from the school gate. You hum absentmindedly; eyes trained on the pavement as you walk.
You pass your usual shortcut, the alleyway behind convenience stores that cuts through to your neighbourhood.
Every step feels automatic. Muscle memory. No need to think about where you're going, because home isn't far anymore.
But then, a figure appears at the mouth of that alley. Tall. Familiar silhouette against the dimming light. And as he steps forward slightly. Evan.
The sight of him freezes you mid-step. Just him. Alone. On this quiet alleyway, the same one both of you always take home, except you weren’t with him this time.
"Evan?" you ask, voice quiet as you pull out one earphone, squinting your eyes to make out the figures face. The moment you say his name, soft, hesitant he looks at you.
"Dude, you scared me," you huff, half-laugh, half-frustration, comes out more breathy than angry. Your hand on your chest is dramatic, exaggerated like you're overacting in a movie.
"What's wrong?" The question hangs in the air, not cold or distant like before. Just genuine.
His voice comes out low. Quiet, different than usual, "...You’ve been avoiding me."
Just stating it like he’s finally putting words to the ache he’s felt all day, the way you didn’t sit with him at lunch, how you talked around him but never to him unless necessary, and now this silent walk home alone.
"What makes you say that?" you say carefully, swallowing the lump in your throat.
Instead of answering with facts, "You didn’t sit next to me," "You ignored my texts yesterday," "Eunji dragged you away from me," He takes another step closer.
Closes the gap between you two until there's barely space left for breathing properly. Evan doesn’t reach out.
But his presence is everywhere: the warmth of his body, the faint scent of his cologne, the intensity in his dark brown eyes that are locked onto yours like they’re searching for something.
And then, he speaks again. So quiet it almost blends with the soft music still leaking from your earbud, "...You're sad."
"What?" you ask quietly, tilting your head up, just slightly, because Evan is tall.
Your eyes meet his fully. Yours wide with surprise, maybe a little panic. His? Soft. Concerned. Like he’s seeing right through the act, the fake smiles, the sarcasm earlier today, and straight into whatever’s hurting you.
He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t look away. And repeats it again, voice so gentle it breaks your heart, "...You're sad."
Not a question. A statement. Like it's obvious to him that something's wrong, because he knows you. Better than anyone else.
The words come out automatically, "I'm fine." But your voice cracks halfway through. Just a tiny split. A single syllable that wavers like it can't hold the weight of the lie.
And Evan hears it. Of course he does. His expression shifts instantly, softens into something painfully tender, and without thinking, he reaches up. Careful like he's afraid to scare off a wounded bird.
His hand, warm and familiar, gently cups your cheek. The palm of his hand presses softly against your skin, thumb brushing lightly just beneath your eye, the spot that always crinkles when you smile.
He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you like he’s memorizing the sadness in your face, the way the streetlight casts shadows under your eyes, how exhausted you suddenly seem up close.
You feel your heart speed up as he cups your face, stupid organ betraying you once again as warmth spreads all over your body.
Your eyes soften instantly, because there it is.
That look on his face he gets sometimes, the one where he stares at you like you're the only one worth looking at, the one that feeds your delusions that make you hope that something will bloom from this....tension, you have.
But nothing ever has.
Because how many times have you done this? Let yourself hope? Watered a flower no one else sees, only for nothing to grow?
And now, it was hurting you to even keep it alive. "D-Don't-" you say quietly, inhaling shakily.
The second your breath hitches, shaky, fragile, Evan’s thumb stills against your cheek. He feels it. The tremble in your skin. The way you flinch just slightly under his touch, like it hurts to be looked at this tenderly by him.
He touches you gently without thinking twice about it, but never follows through with more than friendship.
You step back, just an inch, but it feels like a mile. It’s not dramatic. No harsh retreat, no turning away completely, just the smallest shift of your body pulling back from his touch, breaking contact.
But to Evan? It hurts.
Because that single inch says everything. ‘I can’t do this.’ ‘You’re too close, and it’s not fair because you don’t love me like I love you.’
His hand drops slowly, like gravity itself weighs it down, and hangs at his side now. Empty.
The warmth between you shatters instantly. The alleyway suddenly feels cold again despite the streetlights glowing around them.
"Fuck, this is killing me," you mutter under your breath, the words slip out, quiet, raw, almost accidental.
Evan’s breath catches. Because he knows that tone. The one you use when something’s eating you alive from the inside, the kind of pain that doesn’t scream, it cripples.
The voice people have right before they cry or walk away forever.
For a second, Evan freezes completely. Brown eyes wide. Heart slamming against his ribs like it's trying to escape.
"Why are you-" you say quietly, confusing contorting your features as you look at him, "I heard you the other day,"
Three words that make his blood run cold.
"What you said to Jungwon and Sunghoon," you gulp down the panic rising in your chest, forcing your voice to be steady. He knows exactly what you’re talking about.
That conversation. With Jungwon and Sunghoon outside the classroom yesterday morning when he thought no one was around. Where he brushed off Sunghoon’s teasing.
Where he acted clueless about why anyone would think there was something between him and you, when really he just didn't know how to feel.
"Why are you doing this then? If you think I'm too clingy, and that I talk too much. If I'm too me for you?" The questions come out in a rush, quiet but sharp.
Not shouting, not yelling. But hurting. So much hurt packed into those words.
Every accusation hits like a truth he can’t deny. Yes, he said those things.
Yes, he acted like you were just his loud, overly affectionate best friend who hugged him too much and talked too fast.
And yes, maybe part of him believed that, because it was easier than admitting the terrifying alternative.
That maybe, he liked you more than that. But instead of explaining himself, or apologizing, he stands frozen under the weight of your pain, watching tears well up in your eyes because of him.
"Say something for fucks sake, I'm dying over here," you breathe out, voice raising slightly as you push at his shoulders.
The push, your hands shoving lightly against his chest, finally snaps him out of it. You’re right there again, eyes blazing now, not with anger, but with heartbreak that’s been building for years.
Evan’s hands fly up, instinctively, to catch yours before you can push him again. He grabs both your wrists gently but firmly, pulling them down and stepping forward this time.
Closing the space completely. Erasing every inch between you two that existed a second ago.
"I didn’t mean it." Voice cracked. Quiet. Desperate.
Not defensive. Not excusing himself. Just raw regret. He swallows hard, thumbs brushing over your wrists where he's still holding you, "I was lying."
"I was lying to Jungwon. To Sunghoon."
Each word comes slower than the last, like he’s tearing them out from somewhere deep and painful inside his chest.
"I said all that because I didn’t know how to feel. You were always there, Y/n, always smiling at me, touching my arm when you talk too fast, hugging me first every morning. And I started feeling things. But they scared me."
"You know I like you, you've known I’ve liked you for years,"
Of course, he knew and he ignored it. Because it was easier to play dumb than admit something terrifying.
That someone could love him this much, and what if he couldn't give them back the same way?
Now, staring at your tear-stained face, guilt crashes over him.
“Then why were you scared?” you ask quietly. And he has no good answer.
Because the truth is messy and stupid. "I don't know how," he admits finally. "I've never liked someone like this before.” His voice cracks.
"So, you lied? Pretended I meant nothing to you?"
He drops his forehead against yours. Warm breath mixing, noses almost touching, eyes shut like this moment is too fragile to open them and ruin it.
"I'm sorry." The apologies come fast, fumbling, desperate, each one more sincere than the last.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" Over and over. Like a prayer. Like he’s begging forgiveness for every careless word he ever said.
His voice shakes with each "I’m sorry", laced with regret so deep it aches. He presses his forehead harder against yours, like if he stays this close, maybe you’ll feel how real it is.
How much he means it.
"It hurt Evanie, it hurt so much," you say, voice cracking with emotion as you inhale shakily, tears slipping down your face.
The crack in your voice, so small, so quiet, shatters him completely, and the last wall around Evan collapses. Because you called him ‘Evanie’.
Only you call him that. Just a soft nickname from when you were kids, the one that always made his chest feel warm. But now hearing it through tears breaks his heart into pieces.
Without thinking, he pulls you forward, and wraps both arms tightly around your body.
"You're such a dumbfuck," you say through tears, wrapping your hands around his neck. Evan doesn’t argue because he knows he’s a dumbfuck.
The biggest idiot in the world for making you cry over something as stupid as his own fear of feelings.
So, when you call him that, voice trembling, face buried against his shoulder, he just holds on tighter, and he keeps whispering, ‘I’m sorry… I’m sorry…"
Each apology pressed into your skin, one into your temple, another near your ear, your cheek, the junction between your neck and shoulder, as his lips brush lightly with each word.
Gentle kisses of desperate affection. His arms are locked around you now, one hand cradling the back of your head like you’re something precious.
Evan takes a deep breath,like he’s about to say the most important words of his life, then, voice low but clear, no hesitation, no joking tone, "I like you." He swallows, then adds softer, "Like…really like you. For a long time."
"How long?"
Evan blinks, then a small, shy smile tugs at his lips, "Since last year," he admits.
"You're so stupid, oh my god," you chuckle wetly, sniffling as you smile, “This could’ve been done a year ago if you hadn’t been such a dumbass,”
You’re laughing at him. Calling him stupid. And it’s the most beautiful sound he’s heard all day.
His heart flips, actually flips, because you’re not mad anymore. You're smiling. Crying, yeah, but also… happy.
That tiny smile on your face undoes him completely. So, without thinking, he grins back, wide, bright, that rare full Lee Evan smile, and then he kisses you.
The kiss starts soft, tentative, like both of you are afraid it might not be real.
But the second your lips move against his, Evan melts. His hands slide up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks where tear tracks still linger, and he deepens the kiss just slightly, tilting his head to match yours perfectly.
No rush. No pressure. Just you and him, finally kissing after years of unspoken feelings and stupid misunderstandings.
And you’re smiling into it, the kind that makes him smile back without breaking contact, and suddenly everything feels right.
Your fingers tangle in his hair as you deepen the kiss, going up on your tiptoes. Evan lets out a quiet, breathy sound against your lips, surprised by how bold you are now.
Your fingers in his hair, soft but firm, tugging slightly, and the way you rise onto your toes to press closer? It sends a shiver down his spine.
He bends down instinctively, one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him while the kiss grows deeper.
You sigh into the kiss, soft, warm, completely surrendering, and it sends a jolt through Evan’s entire body. He feels it.
Every part of you melting against him, the arch of your back pressing into his chest, the way your fingers tighten in his hair like you never want to let go.
And he kisses you like he’s starved for this. Like every second they wasted not being together was torture.
You pull away giggling, bright smile on your face that makes you dimples pop and eyes crinkle. The sight of your smile, bright, dimpled, eyes crinkled with pure joy, hits Evan like sunlight breaking through clouds.
He’s breathless. Not from the kiss. From this.
You, happy because of him.
And that giggle? Light and airy, one he’s heard a thousand times but it still makes his stomach flip.
He stares at you for a solid three seconds, just drinking it in. Your glowing face. The way your nose scrunches when you laugh. Evan’s grin is wide, genuine, dorky, the kind only you ever see.
Evan, the guy who’s always cool and composed in front of everyone else. But right now?He looks like a lovestruck idiot.
"You crumbled in a single day, Evan. A single day of me not talking to you and you came crawling to me," you say smugly, and his cheeks go pink.
He groans, embarrassed now as he buries his head in your shoulders, “Couldn’t help it…” he admits, “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” he sighs, and you break out in a cheeky grin, pecking his lips before shaking your head, “Never in a million years, sweetheart,”
He smiles nonetheless, leaning in and kissing your nose.
"You're like so obsessed with me dude,"
Evan doesn’t even deny it. Instead, he laughs, bright and unashamed, and nods like it’s the most obvious truth in the world. "Yeah. I am.”
✶ ˚｡⋆ when jay saw you, he fell in love. you were everything he wanted. beautiful, smart, funny and mature. well, you were maybe a little clueless. but that doesn’t hurt, right? … right?
꧖ warnings:. cursing. crack. mentions of throwing up. mentions of passing out. english isn’t my first language. ignore typos :p. timestamps are relevant. — masterlist.
note: hello, i’m alive!!! next part is the final one ˙◠˙ tysm for reading !
a collection of recs sorted by dark themes, proceed with care, most contain very harsh trigger warnings and Nsfw contents and dark themes. More will be added as i read. proceed with care!
YANDERE
LUST KILLS by @ptolemaeiia therapist jake x reader
LACUNA by @eeunoia park jongseong x reader
MALL RAT by @gyuuberryy sunghoon x reader backrooms
DONT LOOK BACK by @gyuuberryy jungwon x reader backrooms
BARISTA by @erehkinnie30 heeseung x reader
RED LIGHTS by @gyuuberryy jungwon squid games au
BECAUSE I LOVED YOU by @viisator sunghoon x reader
YOU’RE MINE by @semisasseater sunghoon x reader
PARANORMAL
WRONG STOP by @gyuuberryy jay x reader
YOU REMEMBER WRONG by @swiftjay23 jay x reader
VAMPIRE
VELITE by @hooncifer sunghoon x reader
FACILITY OO7 by @theothernads OT7
SWEETEST SIN by @drkbl00d jake x reader
CRIME
KEEPSAKE by @unlocktxt niki x reader
LEVEL 4 by @gyuuberryy niki x reader
AROUND WE GO by @unlocktxt jungwon x reader
HORROR GAME MAID by @aalsbefr OT7
STALKER / OBSSESION
TRAPPED by @lassiie heeseung x reader
GOOD BOY by @nisc0 jake x reader
PRETTY LITTLE LIARS @en-lov OT7
NO EXIT JUST HIM by @elikajinnie heeseung x reader
「 𝜗ৎ where . . . you look to release some steam off by playing roblox! unfortunately, your anger gets the best of you and you end up cursing someone out in your server out of habit. while asleep, your phone gets bombed by thousands of notifications and you wake up to find out that the person you cursed out last night is also one of the top streamers of all time right now .. suddenly, you’re dragged into an odd, new friend group, thousands of tweets, and lee heeseungs’ messages? 」
pairing :: yang jungwon x reader
warnings :: nerd!won, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, angst, fluff, happy ending, uni/college au, bff!enha, she fell first he fell harder, crying, kiss, food mentions, alc mentions, light drug usage, awkwardness, they’re both overly overdramatic😒
a/n :: it was so much harder to write him like this after being dadawon brainrotted so i’m thinking nerd!won smut hcs otw🤓 ALSO i know there’s much longer fics out there and many more writers who can write this much with ease but this is my first Monster Demon Baby™️ so #talk2menice
word count :: 25.8k (ꃋᴖꃋ)
summary :: you’d never really been friends with jungwon. run in the same circles, sure! seeing him twice a week at your little game nights before realising you guys take the same course, also sure! but never friends. that is until, a missed lecture changes that for the better ><
university had settled into something comfortably predictable. the frantic first weeks of introductions and orientation events had faded months ago, replaced instead by routines that seemed to repeat themselves without anyone really noticing. monday mornings always began with students rushing across campus twenty minutes later than they’d intended. the library was impossibly full by lunchtime despite everyone insisting they worked better in their own rooms. by friday afternoon, every coffee shop had queues stretching through the doors, fuelled by exhausted students convincing themselves they deserved an overpriced coffee after surviving another week.
somewhere between all of that, you’d found your place. looking back, it was strange how quickly everything had happened. you’d arrived expecting months of awkwardness, eating lunch alone, second-guessing whether anyone would remember your name after conversations, wondering if uni friendships really were as effortless as people had made them seem.
instead, they’d simply… happened.
sunoo had been the first. he’d sat beside you before your introductory lecture had even begun, complaining dramatically about the size of the campus before asking if you’d figured out where the nearest coffee shop was yet. neither of you had. by the end of the afternoon, the two of you had spent almost three hours wandering around hopelessly lost before accidentally stumbling across the student union together.
after that came jay, who somehow possessed the remarkable ability to complain about absolutely everything while still being the most dependable person you knew. then jake, whose boyish eagerness felt almost impossible to rival, and sunghoon, who’d seemed intimidating right up until you’d realised ninety percent of his sarcasm disappeared whenever someone offered him food.
before long, dinners became shared instead of solitary. library sessions somehow turned into six people studying different degrees around the same table simply because nobody wanted to work alone. birthdays, movie nights, grocery trips, midnight walks to convenience stores after collective assignment breakdowns… somehow, they’d all become normal.
it wasn’t that your newfound group spent every waking moment together. everyone’s timetables were different. there were weeks where assignments swallowed whole days, where some people disappeared beneath deadlines while others barely had a lecture scheduled. but somehow everyone always found their way back together eventually, as though it had become an unspoken expectation rather than something anyone actively organised.
you liked that. how there wasn’t any pressure, only familiarity. outside of your own friends, uni had a funny way of making people feel familiar too.
your course was large enough that you couldn’t possibly know everyone, yet small enough that faces started repeating themselves. people you’d exchanged exactly one conversation with would smile as they passed you on campus. classmates whose names you’d never learnt would wave from the opposite side of lecture theatres. baristas recognised your coffee order before you’d even reached the till.
jay insisted it was because everyone knew you, you insisted he was exaggerating. the truth probably sat somewhere in the middle. you’d always found it easier to smile first than wait for someone else to. if someone looked nervous before a presentation, you’d wish them luck. if someone sat beside you in a lecture, you’d introduce yourself before either of you had time to overthink the silence. conversations came naturally enough that you rarely realised you’d always be the one to start them until they’d ended.
people remembered kindness more than confidence, something you’d learnt a long time ago. which, to give jay some credit, was probably why you recognised so many faces despite knowing so few names.
one of those faces belonged to someone you’d never actually spoken to, you couldn’t even remember the first time you’d noticed him. he’d simply always seemed to exist somewhere on the edge of your life.
sometimes you’d catch sight of him crossing the courtyard with headphones resting loosely around his neck, one hand buried in the pocket of an oversized hoodie while the other balanced an impossible stack of books against his chest. other times he’d already be sitting near the front before lectures began, quietly reading through notes while everyone else chatted around him.
he left classes quickly. professors barely finished dismissing everyone before he was gone, disappearing into hallways crowded with students until he became impossible to pick out from everyone else.
you didn’t know much about him, only fragments gathered accidentally over the course of a year. he was ridiculously smart. heeseung lived with him and you’d hear his complaints, albeit fond ones, about how when jungwon had an exam or assignment coming up, however small, he wouldn’t leave his room until he was impossibly sure of himself, which never happened.
riki also complained (in much less detail) that he spent too much time studying.
sunoo had once described him as “one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet once he forgets to be nervous.”
that last one had surprised you. from a distance, he always looked composed, quiet, sure. but never nervous. if anything, he’d struck you as someone perfectly content staying in his own company. the kind of person who preferred observing conversations rather than joining them. you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him raise his voice. or laugh loudly. or even stay somewhere longer than he absolutely had to.
still, he was difficult not to notice. perhaps because everyone around him seemed louder by comparison. heeseung laughed with his whole body. riki rarely stood still for longer than thirty seconds. jay somehow managed to turn ordering lunch into a competition. sunghoon teased sunoo relentlessly and jake always seemed to be stuck in the middle, trying his hardest to swat sunghoon’s persistent hands away from sunoo as he tried not laugh himself, for sunoo’s sake. jungwon simply… existed quietly amongst all of it, as though he occupied a completely different pace to everyone else.
you never gave it much thought, he was simply another familiar stranger. someone whose face had become a comfortable part of your life without ever crossing fully into it.
despite sharing more mutual friends than either of you probably realised, you and jungwon had somehow managed to spend the better part of a year existing almost entirely on the edges of each other’s lives. it became one of those things you only noticed after it had already been happening for months. the two of you would be invited to the same birthday dinner, only for one of you to arrive after the other had already settled into conversation. someone would suggest a movie night at heeseung and riki’s flat, and while everyone else gradually drifted into the living room, you’d somehow end up helping jay order food while jungwon disappeared into the kitchen to make more drinks. group photos would be taken at the end of the night, proving you had, in fact, spent several hours in the same room, despite barely exchanging more than a passing glance.
it almost became funny, but not in a way anyone ever pointed out. just one of those strange little coincidences that seemed to happen naturally whenever enough people were involved. if there was a seat beside jungwon when you arrived, someone would inevitably call your name from the opposite end of the table before you had a chance to sit down. if you wandered over to ask heeseung something, jungwon would suddenly realise his cup was empty and excuse himself to refill his water. if everyone split into smaller conversations, the two of you somehow always ended up in different ones. not deliberately. just… somehow.
the closest thing you’d had to a conversation happened sometime during the first semester. you’d arrived at heeseung and riki’s flat with two bags of snacks balanced awkwardly against your hip after volunteering to stop by the corner shop on the way over.
the front door was already unlocked. you’d let yourself inside, calling out a quick hello that was immediately drowned out by riki shouting something unintelligible from the living room. before you could make sense of it, someone appeared around the corner.
jungwon. he’d looked just as surprised to see you as you’d been to see him. for a second, the two of you had simply stared at each other.
“…hey.” you grinned. he noticed the hopeful sparkle in your eyes before he noticed the way the left side of your face tilted up slightly more than the right when you gave him one of the blinding smiles you seemed to dish out so abundantly to his friends. he thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
“…hi.” he muttered back sheepishly, dropping his gaze to the floor on instinct.
then he’d stepped aside to let you through with a small, polite smile before disappearing down the hallway again. that had been it. looking back, you weren’t even sure if it counted as a conversation. it obviously hadn’t felt like one.
after that, much to your dismay, the pattern simply continued. you knew who he was, everyone did. if someone mentioned jungwon, nobody ever had to ask, “which one?” he’d built something of a quiet reputation around campus without ever seeming to try.
people on your course didn’t know much about him beyond the obvious. they knew he studied computer science, that he consistently did well in every module he took and that professors seemed to like him. every now and then, his name would come up when someone was complaining about an assignment.
“jungwon finished it last week.”
“apparently he got full marks.”
“does he ever sleep?”
the answer, according to heeseung, was apparently “not during exam season.”
you’d lost count of the number of times he’d shown up somewhere and casually mentioned that jungwon hadn’t left his room all day.
“he’s revising.”
“again?”
“he says he isn’t ready.”
“his test’s tomorrow.”
“exactly.”
heeseung always said it with the same mixture of affection and disbelief, like someone talking about a younger brother who worried far more than he needed to.
riki, on the other hand, had much less patience for it.
“he acts like every quiz decides his entire future.”
“it kind of does,” heeseung had replied once.
“no, it doesn’t.” riki muttered out, rolling his eyes as far back into his head as he could.
“to him it does.” heeseung smiled, swatting riki on the shoulder as he teased him for his dramatics.
the conversation had moved on quickly after that. most conversations did. people laughed, someone changed the subject and eventually everyone started talking over one another again. still, little comments like that stayed with you, simply because they slowly filled in the gaps around someone you barely knew. the version of jungwon everyone described never quite matched the one you saw. they talked about someone who panicked over assignments, second-guessed himself constantly and somehow managed to convince himself he’d fail exams everyone else expected him to ace. the jungwon you’d always seen seemed unnaturally calm. he walked across campus at an unhurried pace, never looking particularly rushed even when everyone around him was sprinting to lectures. he’d sit quietly before classes with a notebook open, reading through something while conversations buzzed around him. when people spoke to him, he always looked up immediately, giving them his full attention before answering. reserved, maybe. quiet, definitely. but never anxious.
you wondered, briefly, if he simply hid it well. or maybe people behaved differently around those they were comfortable with. the thought didn’t linger for long. everyone was different around their friends, you probably were too.
one friday evening, the two groups ended up at heeseung and riki’s flat after jay had declared that nobody should be spending the end of the week working. the plan had been to order takeaway, watch a film and, in jay’s words, “pretend deadlines don’t exist until monday.”
predictably, the film never really happened. jake and heeseung couldn’t agree on what to watch. then sunghoon decided he was hungry before a decision had been made, so much so that he refused to talk about anything else. by the time food finally arrived, everyone had split off into different conversations scattered around the flat. you found yourself squeezed onto one end of the sofa beside an exasperated sunoo while jake and sunghoon argued over whether pineapple belonged on pizza. jay had wandered into the kitchen to find more drinks, heeseung followed after him. riki disappeared for reasons nobody questioned. at some point, you realised jungwon wasn’t in the room either. you only noticed because he returned a few minutes later carrying a stack of clean plates balanced carefully in both hands. without interrupting anyone, he set them down on the coffee table one by one before disappearing back into the kitchen.
he came back again with cutlery. then napkins. someone thanked him absentmindedly. he nodded once.
“no worries.”
and sat down as though he’d done nothing at all. it was such a small thing that nobody else seemed to pay it any attention. conversation carried on without missing a beat. sunghoon was still insisting pineapple absolutely belonged on pizza.
jay, now involved, disagreed so passionately that you’d begun to suspect it was personal. across the room, jungwon listened with the same quiet smile he’d worn all evening, occasionally laughing under his breath whenever riki deliberately tried to make the argument worse. he looked just comfortable enough to let everyone else fill the room while he quietly existed alongside them. for someone who supposedly struggled around people, there was something unexpectedly reassuring about the way he never seemed to force himself to keep up.
somewhere between arriving and leaving, you realised you’d learnt something new about jungwon. that he wasn’t quiet because he had nothing to contribute, he was quiet instead because he never seemed to feel the need to compete with everyone else for the conversation.
and, for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you found yourself thinking that was admirable.
the problem with missing lectures wasn’t usually the lecture itself. it was everything that came afterwards.
lecturers had an unfortunate habit of squeezing the most important information into the last ten minutes of class; the reminders about coursework, changes to seminar groups, little comments that never made it onto the slides but somehow always ended up appearing in exams.
normally, you really wouldn’t have worried. one of your friends would send their notes eventually. except this lecture unfortunately happened to be shared with almost none of your friends. by the time you’d made it back onto campus, your phone was already buzzing with messages.
jay
Where are you?
sunoo
u alive??
jake
thought you’d overslept 😭
you smiled to yourself, typing out a quick explanation as you walked across the courtyard.
doctor’s appointment. i’m alive, unfortunately.
three dots appeared almost immediately.
jay
Truly devastating news
you rolled your eyes. he still texted like your dad.
the lecture theatre ahead was already emptying by the time you reached it. students spilled into the corridor carrying half-zipped backpacks and takeaway coffees, conversations blending into one another until it became impossible to tell where one ended and another began. a few familiar faces smiled as they passed. someone from your seminar waved. you returned it automatically before stepping to one side to avoid a group hurrying towards the stairs. too late. you’d known it before you’d even arrived. still, disappointment settled somewhere in your gut anyway.
“you look like someone just told you christmas is cancelled.”
you turned to find sunoo weaving his way through the crowd, balancing a coffee in one hand and his laptop under the other arm.
“i missed it.” you pout, poking him in the arm. he followed your gaze towards the lecture theatre.
“…ah.” he realised, mirroring your pout almost mockingly. you’d take it as an insult if his eyes didn’t have that affectionate sparkle in them, seeming to be naturally ever present around you anyways.
“i even left home early.”
“that’s rough.” he said, more gently now. you only sighed in return.
“did i miss much?”
sunoo considered it.
“…honestly?”
your shoulders lifted hopefully.
“…i wasn’t really paying attention after the break.”
you stared at him blankly, eyebrows just starting to furrow.
“you’re unbelievable.”
“i’m honest.” he giggled, winking at you.
“you’re hopeless.”
“a little.” he didn’t sound remotely apologetic.
the two of you drifted further into the corridor to avoid blocking the doorway as more students filtered past. somewhere nearby, someone dropped a folder, sending loose sheets skidding across the floor. three people immediately crouched to help gather them, the interruption lasting all of thirty seconds before everyone continued on with their day. nothing never really stopped moving. sunoo took another sip of his coffee before speaking again.
“you need the notes?”
“unless you’d like to sit my exam for me.” you deadpanned.
“…hard pass.”
“thought so.”
he made a thoughtful noise.
“mine aren’t great.”
“i know.”
“wow.”
“last time i borrowed your notes you wrote ‘i’m hungry’ halfway through a paragraph.”
“because i was.”
“you’d also drawn a cat.”
“…it was a cute cat.”
you laughed. there was a brief pause. then, as though the answer had only just occurred to him, sunoo clicked his fingers.
“ask jungwon.” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.
the suggestion came so casually that it took you a second to process it.
“…jungwon?”
“yeah.”
“why?”
“because he actually listens. and because his notes are terrifying.”
“terrifying?” you replied, eyes wide.
“you’ll see.”
you frowned slightly. asking someone for notes wasn’t unusual. you’d obviously done it before, many times in fact. people asked you all the time too.
still…
“i’ve never actually spoken to him.”
sunoo looked back at you, genuine confusion etched onto his face.
“yes, you have.” he said, suddenly so sure of himself.
“have i?”
“you’ve said hi.”
“…i don’t think that counts.”
“close enough.”
you weren’t convinced, he seemed to notice.
“seriously,” he said. “he won’t care.”
“how do you know?”
“because if someone asked him for notes, he’d probably apologise that they weren’t neat enough.” you couldn’t tell if he was joking.
“…you’re exaggerating.”
“i wish i was.”
before you could answer, his phone buzzed. he glanced down, groaned dramatically and shoved the coffee into your free hand while he typed out a reply with both thumbs.
“seminar?”
“unfortunately.”
he took the coffee back.
“come on.”
“what?”
“he’s probably still inside.”
your eyes drifted towards the lecture theatre doors.
they’d almost emptied now.
through the small window, you could just make out a few remaining students gathering their things.
“…i’ll feel weird interrupting him.”
“you won’t. okay, you might.” sunoo admitted, eyes narrowed as he mused. you gave him a flat look in return.
“helpful.”
“but he’ll still say yes.”
the lecture theatre was almost empty by the time you finally walked inside, a little while after sunoo had walked off to his seminar. you’d stood outside the door for a little longer than you probably needed to, fingers resting against the handle while you tried to convince yourself that this was not a big deal. because it wasn’t. it really wasn’t. you weren’t asking him for anything unreasonable. you weren’t about to have some life-changing conversation or confess some huge secret. you weren’t even asking for help with something complicated. you just needed notes, that was it. you still couldn’t for the life of you figure out why it felt like so much to ask, but that was obviously the reason for your unusually timid lingering outside the door.
you’d seen jungwon’s notes before. not properly, but enough to know that they were probably going to save you from spending three hours trying to piece together half-remembered information from the slides. the problem was not the notes. obviously.
the problem was that you had never actually spoken to jungwon before. something which always seemed to be nagging at you when you were around him. clearly, you knew which people he was friends with, because you were their friends too. you knew little things you had picked up without meaning to, the same way everyone did when they spent months around the same people. but knowing about someone and knowing someone were completely different things. and for some reason, the thought of walking up to him made you hesitate.
if anything, he was the opposite of unapproachable. he was always easy to be around, yet strangely hard to interpret. there was something about approaching someone who always seemed comfortable in their own space that made you feel like you were stepping into something you hadn’t been invited into.
which was silly. you knew that. you were really not someone who usually overthought things like this. especially not so much so that you were loitering outside like an idiot, rocking on the balls of your heels with too much running through your head. you rolled your eyes at yourself, and how all of this was so unlike you. instead, taking a small breath, you pushed the door open. the sound was louder than you expected in the quiet room. it felt completely different after everyone had left. earlier, it had been filled with voices and movement, people packing away their things while talking about assignments and plans for later. now, it was almost peaceful. the rows of seats stretched out in front of you, sunlight falling across the desks near the windows. a few forgotten papers were scattered around, abandoned by students who had already moved on to their next class.
and there he was. you spotted him almost immediately. you weren’t surprised. if anything, you would have been more surprised if he wasn’t there. he was still sitting near the front, his attention focused on his laptop while he finished whatever he was doing. for a second, you just stood there. you almost laughed at yourself. because why had you made this into such a big thing? he was just a person, a friend at that. a friend who you needed notes from. a friend who would probably definitely say yes.
still, your feet felt slightly heavier as you walked closer. you stopped beside his desk. he didn’t notice immediately. and you were glad he didn’t, because it gave you one last second to collect yourself. then you spoke.
“hey.”
his head lifted. the reaction was small, but you caught it. the slight surprise, the way his attention shifted fully towards you. for a moment, he looked like he was trying to place why you were standing there. then, recognition settled it, not dramatically, just a quiet moment where you felt like you could hear his every thought as you glanced sheepishly at his eyes behind his thick rimmed glasses. something about that made you feel strangely less nervous. because, obviously, he knew who you were. and he wasn’t looking at you like an inconvenient interruption.
“hi.” he said, sounding his voice muffled as he cleared his throat behind his hand. his voice sounded softer than you expected. you smiled slightly.
“sorry, i hope i’m not bothering you.”
he shook his head almost immediately. the response came so quickly that you wondered if he was worried you had mistaken his surprise for annoyance.
you relaxed a little.
“okay. good.” you muttered out, unusually shy.
there was a small pause after that, not really awkward, just unfamiliar. you were two people who had existed around each other for months without ever having a reason to talk. and now suddenly, you did. you explained that you had missed the lecture and needed the notes. you found yourself adding the reason why, even though he hadn’t asked. you mentioned the appointment running late. maybe because you didn’t want him thinking you had skipped class. maybe because there was something oddly important about really wanting (needing) for him to have a good first impression of you, even though technically this was far from his first impression.
the whole thing was ridiculous. you didn’t even know why you cared. jungwon just nodded. as always, there was no judgement in his expression. no teasing. no comment about catching up. a tiny part of you almost wished there was. maybe then you’d be able to open him up a little bit. you told him sunoo had said his notes were really good. and almost immediately, jungwon tried to downplay it, which, to be honest, you’d expected somehow. there was something very predictable about the way he refused to make a big deal out of himself.
you looked at the notebook beside him and pointed out sheepishly that his notes actually had structure. you admitted yours usually consisted of random words that only made sense for the first ten minutes after typing them. this earned a small reaction from him, not quite a smile, but close, and for whatever reason, that felt like a really big victory. jungwon just turned back to his notebook and started gathering the pages. you watched quietly, noticing how there was no rush in the way he moved. he seemed to take care with everything, making sure he had everything he needed before handing it over. as always, it was strangely comforting.
when he looked back at you, he hesitated.
“i can send them.” he said, looking up at you again.
“really?” you smiled.
he nodded and you watched as he glanced between you and his notebook like he had reached the obvious next step but hadn’t figured out how to get there. for a moment you just looked at him with confusion until you realised, he didn’t know how to send them. because neither of you had actually exchanged any way to contact each other. you grinned again before he had the chance to overthink it.
“i can give you my number.” you offered hopefully, his eyes lifting to meet yours again.
“okay.” he mumbled, finally returning your smile, a lopsided grin taking over his features. you thought there was something oddly sweet about how willing he was to help even whilst being unsure of what to do next. you unlocked your phone and handed it to him.
“just put yours in.”
he typed his number in, saved the contact, and handed it back. you looked down.
jungwon
“that’s it?” you said without thinking, he merely blinked up at you in return.
“what?”
“your contact.”
he looked down at the phone.
then back at you.
“yeah?”
you laughed softly.
“i don’t know. i expected maybe something else.”
“like what?”
you glanced at the screen.
“an emoji or something.”
the silence that followed was so genuine that you had to stop yourself from laughing. you don’t even know why you’d said it, you wouldn’t have even done it yourself.
“i don’t really use emojis.”
you smiled brighter and then immediately noticed the tiny hesitation in his expression. you manually tried to soften your own face in hope that he wouldn’t take it as making fun of him.
“i’m not judging.”
“i know.” he mumbled quietly.
almost like he was reassuring himself as much as he was reassuring you. you added that you never used emojis either, which was absolutely not true. you know your friends would have laughed out loud if they’d heard you say it. but something about the small look of relief on his face made your white lie worth it. there was another quiet moment.
“thank you, by the way.” you said, trying to fill the silence as quick as you could. again, he nodded.
“it’s okay.”
you picked up your phone, looking down at his contact one more time before putting it away. now jungwon wasn’t just someone you sat near in lectures or someone you merely shared mutual friends with. now he was someone you had spoken to, someone who had your number. someone who would probably text you later.
“see you later, jungwon.” you motioned to wave before stopping yourself and putting your hand back down again.
“see you.” he replied, another lopsided grin taking shape after he caught your stifled gesture.
and that was it. you walked out of the lecture theatre with his contact saved in your phone, the unexplainable stress finally lifted.
you didn’t expect jungwon to send the notes so quickly. not because you thought he would forget. if anything, forgetting seemed like the least likely thing he could do. from everything you’d heard about him, jungwon was probably the type of person who made reminders for his reminders. you had already accepted that the notes would arrive eventually, probably later that evening after he had checked through them one more time and decided whether they were good enough to send. what surprised you was the fact that your phone buzzed before you’d even reached the other side of campus. you felt oddly good about seeing jungwon’s name. there was a difference between seeing his name appear in a group conversation and seeing it sitting privately in your own messages. it was such a stupid and small thing that you almost laughed at yourself for noticing.
jungwon
hi
i've sent the notes over
underneath were the files. you clicked on the first one while continuing to walk, expecting exactly what sunoo had described. you were prepared for them to be neat. you were prepared for them to be organised. you were not prepared for them to make you question whether you had been approaching uni notes incorrectly this entire time. the document was almost painfully structured. everything had a place. every topic had been separated clearly, important points marked out without making the page look overwhelming. there were small explanations beside certain concepts, things he had probably written down for himself because he knew he would want to remember them later, but obviously, they were equally as helpful for you too.
you stared at the screen for a few seconds. you barely knew him, but you could already imagine the process. him sitting somewhere quiet after the lecture, going through the notes again, deciding what was important and what wasn’t. because that was simply how his brain worked. you typed back before you could overthink it.
these are actually ridiculous
you paused. you didn’t want to sound like you were insulting him, especially not after he so graciously did you this favour.
quickly, you added:
in a good way 😭
the response did not come immediately. you found yourself looking at the little typing bubble appear, disappear, then appear again. it made you smile slightly. you’d never considered yourself someone who intimidated easily. you were usually the person who filled awkward silences, who introduced yourself first, who made conversations easier for other people (so you’d been told). but jungwon had a way of making you acutely aware of every small interaction. maybe because he seemed so careful in comparison.
eventually, his reply appeared.
jungwon
thank you
i think they’re okay
you giggled under your breath.
jungwon there are diagrams
my notes look like i was writing during an earthquake
this time, his reply came a little quicker.
maybe your handwriting is just fast
you stared at the message. it wasn’t exactly a joke. not one you’d typically laugh at anyways. but there was something about the fact that he had tried to lighten the mood.
that is the nicest way anyone has ever called my notes terrible
jungwon
i didn’t call them terrible
you could practically hear the seriousness behind the message.
you didn’t have to
after that, your conversations stayed small. you preferred it that way. you didn’t suddenly become attached to your phone waiting for him to reply, and jungwon didn’t become someone who messaged constantly. that would have felt unlike both of you. instead, he became someone who existed slightly more in your day. a message about a lecture, a question about an assignment, a quick clarification when you didn’t understand something from the notes he had sent. you noticed quickly that jungwon was much easier to talk to through messages than you had expected. however, he was occasionally so formal that you wondered if he had accidentally written an email instead. but you’d like to muse there was warmth underneath it. maybe that was wishful thinking.
he always answered properly. if you asked something, he didn’t just send a vague response and disappear. he explained and he made sure you understood. and, perhaps more surprisingly, he started asking things back. small things; how your assignment was going, whether you had managed to catch up on the lecture, whether your exam preparation was going better. obviously simple questions, but they mattered to you because they meant progress. and because jungwon was not someone who asked things just to keep a conversation alive… when he asked something, he genuinely wanted to know the answer. you found that oddly refreshing. you were used to people knowing you. that was the strange thing about being naturally social. people often assumed familiarity. they knew your name. they knew your friends. they knew what you were studying. they knew the stories you told at parties or the jokes you made in group chats. but there was a difference between being known and being noticed.
jungwon noticed.
the next time you saw him outside of lectures, it was at one of your usual gatherings. not big enough to call a party, but usually, nobody was sober enough for it to be just an average hangout. by now, heeseung and riki’s place had become almost a second home for your progressively more tight-knit friend group. nobody really planned anything properly anymore. someone would mention they were bored, someone else would suggest going over, and within an hour half you’d all somehow end up there. it was comfortable in a way you hadn’t expected relatively new friendships to become.
you arrived with sunoo and jay, already listening to them argue about something completely unnecessary. the moment you walked in, the usual noise surrounded you. music playing quietly from heeseung’s speaker, riki complaining about losing a game he insisted he wasn’t taking seriously, jake laughing unabashedly from somewhere in the kitchen, heeseung attempting to stop everyone from making a mess while very clearly contributing to it.
it took you a moment to realise jungwon was already there. he was sitting at the edge of the sofa, listening while jake explained something animatedly beside him. before, you probably wouldn’t have approached him. you would have smiled. maybe waved. eventually, someone else would have pulled you into another conversation. but now it felt different. you obviously weren’t best mates. but friends enough that when your eyes met across the room, you wouldn’t hesitate to smile. and this time, he smiled first. it was a tiny thing. so tiny that you wondered if you imagined it. but you didn’t. something about that made you feel strangely content, you noted the way your cheeks flushed an embarrassing pink, feeling the heat spread up your neck as you took in his lopsided smile again.
later, after everyone had settled down, you found yourself sitting near him while the others argued over what film to watch. you weren’t sitting beside him intentionally. at least, that was what you told yourself. there simply happened to be space there. and he happened to be there. the conversation moved around you naturally, everyone speaking over one another the way they always did. jungwon wasn’t the loudest person in the room, but you had started noticing that he never seemed left out.
people included him without thinking. heeseung would always ask for his opinion on whatever niche topic they were discussing like their lives depended on it, jake would show him stupid memes on his phone that rarely prompted a reaction from anyone, riki would jab and poke at him until jungwon’s face broke out in one of his endearingly wonky grins. at some point, your conversation shifted towards classes. you mentioned the lecture you’d missed to sunoo and jay, mostly as a joke about how much work you had to catch up on.
jungwon glanced over.
“did the notes help?” he said, perking up as he did so.
“they did,” you said, smiling. “actually, they helped more than the lecture probably would have.”
he immediately shook his head.
“no, they wouldn’t.” he replied, brows furrowed.
“jungwon.”
“what?”
“you literally explained half of it better than the slides and the prof did.”
he looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t have a response ready. that happened sometimes. you were beginning to notice it. jungwon was always prepared when it came to academics, but when it came to compliments, he never knew what to do with them. again, you found yourself thinking it was so endearing. obviously not enough that you would ever admit it, not right now anyways. you mentioned one part of the topic that you still didn’t fully understand, not expecting anything from it, you were really just babbling on at this point, to anyone that’s listen, although sunoo and jay had moved on and were having their own conversation now.
but jungwon listened.
and after a moment, he just started explaining. in the middle of heeseung’s living room. not with overly complicated definitions or phrases that made you feel like you were supposed to already understand. he broke it down slowly, making sure you followed each step, like he could see the cogs moving in your head and the moments things clicked for you.
“‘was easier to understand than the actual lecture.” you stared at him blankly after he’d basically summed up the entire second half of the module.
“was it?” he asked, confusion plastered onto his face yet again.
you nodded in reply, realising that you were probably making uncomfortable with the sheer amazement in your eyes. he looked down, a pink flush slowly creeping up his neck.
“i just explained it differently.” he shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose as he lifted his gaze to meet yours again.
before you could respond, sunoo, who you now realised had clearly been listening despite pretending not to, looked over.
“you know, you could literally just tutor her.” the suggestion was casual, almost thrown away.
you just looked at jungwon. he looked back at you. and immediately, you saw the thought cross his face, like the idea had never occurred to him.
“i don’t know if i’d call it tutoring,” he said eventually, a deeper flush now making its way up to his cheeks.
“well, what would you call it?” sunoo (almost) snapped, raising an eyebrow.
jungwon opened his mouth. then stopped, because he didn’t actually have an answer. you giggled softly, and this time he didn’t seem as embarrassed. he just looked away, a small smile spreading across his features despite himself. the conversation moved on soon after. jay changed the topic, riki started another quietly fond argument with sunghoon. the moment just passed, much to your forcibly subdued dismay.
the idea of jungwon tutoring you was never supposed to become an actual plan. at least, that was what you’d told yourself after his brief hesitation. it had been nothing more than something sunoo had thrown into the conversation because he found amusement in pointing out things before anyone else noticed them. for as long as you’d known him (albeit it’d only been a year), he had a habit of doing that, noticing the typically imperceptible shifts between people and making them obvious before anyone involved was ready to acknowledge them. you’d learnt that about him quickly. sunoo always knew when dynamics had changed before either person realised it themselves. so, when he suggested jungwon tutoring you, you had laughed, because it felt too soon to call it anything like that. you and jungwon had exchanged a handful of conversations. you had his number. he had yours. he had sent you notes. you had made unfunny jokes about his lack of emojis. that was hardly enough to suddenly turn him into your personal academic support system.
except, as the weeks went on, you started noticing how often you ended up relying on him. there was a question you couldn’t figure out, so you checked the notes he had sent you. there was a topic you didn’t understand, so you found yourself wondering how jungwon would explain it. that strangest part was that you weren’t someone who usually needed help. not because you felt so uncomfortable that you were were incapable of asking, but because you were normally the person other people asked. it was a role you’d always fallen into without noticing, until now, that is. you were organised enough to remember deadlines, social enough to know who to ask if you needed something and patient enough that people felt comfortable coming to you. your friends joked that you somehow became everyone’s emergency contact despite barely being able to keep track of your own schedule.
you liked being helpful. you liked feeling useful. but there was something unexpectedly comforting about having someone who was willing to do the same for you. jungwon never made you feel like you were behind. he never responded to questions with the kind of surprise that made you feel embarrassed for asking. he simply answered, without fail, every time. and maybe that was why you started asking more. jungwon noticed too. just probably not in the same way you did. you were aware of the changes because they happened around you. you noticed that you no longer hesitated before saying hello when you passed him on campus. you noticed that seeing his name appear on your phone no longer felt surprising, but instead comfortable. for jungwon, it was less obvious because he wasn’t used to analysing his friendships in that way. he had always been someone who let things happen naturally. he had friends. good friends. people he trusted. but most of those friendships had formed slowly, through repeated exposure and familiarity. he wasn’t usually the person who approached first. not because he didn’t want to, but because he had never been particularly good at knowing when he was truly welcome.
with you, he never had to wonder, that was the part that caught him off guard. you made things really easy for him. you spoke to him with your soft, unguarded voice like there was no reason not to. you included him in conversations without making a performance of it, which obviously made it feel more genuine. you looked up at him with your big sparkling eyes through long lashes and nodded attentively when he was talking you through something, so he wouldn't have to guess if you were listening or not. jungwon was used to people noticing him for specific reasons; his grades, his ability to solve problems, the fact that he was reliable. he wasn’t used to someone being interested in what he had to say even when the topic had nothing to do with your syllabus. and you did that often. you asked him small things. what he really thought of the film you’d all watched at heeseung’s place. whether he thought the fancy coffee shop near campus was actually worth the price. whether he agreed with jay’s very strong opinions about literally everything.
none of the questions were particularly important, but jungwon always found himself thinking about them afterwards. he wondered if he’d still be thinking about the things you asked him if they’d come out of anyone else’s mouth. which was becoming increasingly inconvenient for him. because he had assignments. and exams. and a schedule that already felt too full. yet somehow, he always found time to reply to you.
the first time the tutoring idea became a genuine possibility was after another lecture. not because you had planned to ask, in fact, you'd actually been trying very hard not to bring it up. there was something slightly embarrassing about admitting you were struggling with a topic that everyone else seemed to understand. logically, you knew that was ridiculous. uni was difficult and everyone struggled sometimes. but there was still a part of you that hated feeling like you were falling behind. you had spent the better part of an evening trying to understand a section of your module notes, moving between your own work and the lecture slides until the information started blurring together. eventually, out of frustration more than anything else, you sent jungwon a message. you stared at the text blankly for a while before sending it.
hi Lol sorry this is random but do you understand this part?
you attached a screenshot.
almost immediately, you regretted the wording because you realised you’d apologised before even asking. something you did more often than you liked to admit. also, something jungwon had bought up with you before. telling you gently that he felt it was unnecessary to apologise for shivering next to him on heeseung’s sofa while you were sat right next to an open window.
you put your phone down and tried to focus on something else. it lasted approximately three minutes. then your phone buzzed.
i can explain if you want
you smiled before you could stop yourself at the way he’d always phrased his messages. he left space for you to decide. you replied that you would appreciate it, expecting another explanation over text.
instead, a few minutes later:
are you on campus tomorrow?
you stared at the message. your first thought was that you had somehow misunderstood.
yeah, why?
the reply came a little bit slower this time.
i can teach you properly
you looked at the screen for a moment. it was such a jungwon thing to suggest. practical and straightforward, completely unaware of how much trust was involved in what he was offering. because for jungwon, explaining something to someone wasn’t a big deal. it was simply something he could do, and did, regularly in fact. for you, though, there was something different about it. this wasn’t borrowing notes or a quick explanation during a group hangout. it was choosing to spend time together. just the two of you. you found yourself smiling slightly at the thought, then immediately questioned why. which was annoying. because there was nothing strange about spending time with a friend. and jungwon was becoming a friend! you thought that you really needed to stop treating every small interaction like it meant more than it did.
the next day, you met him outside the library. or, more accurately, you met him in the library because jungwon had apparently arrived early enough to secure a table before the usual afternoon rush. you weren’t surprised. when you approached, he was already there, laptop open, notebook beside him, two drinks sitting on the table. you slowed slightly when you noticed the second one.
“i didn’t know what you liked,” he explained before you could ask, gesturing towards it. “so i just got water.”
you looked at the bottle, then at him.
“jungwon.”
he paused.
“what?”
“you’re genuinely the most prepared person i’ve ever met.” you smiled.
for a second, he looked unsure whether that was a compliment. you had started noticing that happened often.
“i didn’t know if you’d have something to drink.”
“most people would just assume.”
“i didn’t want to assume.”
the answer was so simple that it caught you slightly off guard. jungwon always considered things other people overlooked. not because he was trying to impress anyone but because that was simply how he moved through the world. you sat down across from him, opening your laptop. and for the first time, you saw what everyone else probably saw when they studied with him. which wasn’t the intimidatingly smart person people talked about, not the student everyone went to when they were stuck. just someone patient, someone who genuinely wanted you to understand. which, somehow, made it much easier to admit when you didn’t.
the two of you didn’t study for very long before you ended up talking about other things, nothing particularly meaningful. just little conversations that happened naturally between his long, thought out explanations. you found out jungwon hated overly sweet drinks. you found out he had a habit of tapping his pen against his textbook when he was thinking. you found out he actually had a much drier sense of humour than you expected. and, perhaps most surprisingly, he found out you weren’t as effortlessly confident as he’d assumed. you admitted, almost accidentally, that you hated asking questions in lectures because you worried they would be obvious.
jungwon looked genuinely surprised.
“you?”
“what does that mean?” you muttered out through a frown.
“you talk to everyone.”
you laughed quietly.
“that doesn’t mean i can’t get nervous.”
he looked down at his notes. you mused that he probably understood that better than most people. because maybe that was the thing neither of you realised yet. everyone else saw the obvious parts of you; they saw someone friendly, someone confident, someone who belonged everywhere. everyone else saw the obvious parts of him; someone deeply intelligent, someone capable, someone who always knew what he was doing. but none of those things had ever fully summed either of you up. and maybe that was why the two of you got along. because you were both much more complicated than the versions people had decided on.
by the time you packed your things away, the library had started to empty. you hadn’t finished everything. technically, you had probably spent too much time talking. at the end of the day, you’d still understood bounds more than you had when you arrived. you looked at your notes, then at jungwon, a shy smile playing at your lips.
“i think sunoo was right.”
“about what?” he looked up and met your eyes.
“the tutoring thing.”
his expression immediately shifted, not really dramatically, but just enough for you to notice.
“oh.”
you giggled.
“don’t look so terrified.” you replied, pouting slightly involuntarily.
“i don’t.”
“you do.”
he just looked away. which, unfortunately for him, proved your point. you smiled as you packed your laptop away.
“i’m joking.”
but the idea didn’t disappear. and neither did the small smile that appeared on his face when he thought you weren’t looking.
the following tuesday arrived with the kind of weather that never seemed to make up its mind. the morning had started bright enough for people to leave their accommodation without coats, only for grey clouds to roll across the sky before lunchtime, threatening rain without ever fully committing to it. by the time your last lecture finished, the air had turned cooler, carrying the familiar scent of damp pavement that always seemed to settle over campus before autumn properly arrived.
you stood outside the building for a moment, adjusting the strap of your bag as students spilled around you. your phone buzzed.
hi
i’m already at the library
second floor
i found us a table
you couldn’t help smiling. there was something strangely unsurprising about the message because of course he was already there. of course he had arrived early enough to secure one of the quieter tables before the afternoon rush started. of course he had somehow managed to phrase a simple text so politely that it almost sounded like an apology for disturbing you.
you typed back as you crossed the courtyard.
i’ll be there in five :D
you hesitated for a second before pressing send. the smiley face stayed. it wasn’t until your phone disappeared back into your pocket that you remembered your conversation about emojis. you laughed quietly to yourself. he was either going to think nothing of it… or spend the next ten minutes wondering whether there had been a hidden meaning behind one tiny :D
for some reason, the thought made you smile all over again.
the library was busier than usual. students filled almost every table on the ground floor, conversations kept deliberately hushed beneath the steady hum of printers and keyboards, while the occasional sigh or rustle of paper floated between shelves lined with textbooks that looked far too expensive for anyone to actually buy. you climbed the stairs two at a time before slowing your pace. there he was. he had chosen a table tucked beside one of the tall windows overlooking the centre of campus, far enough away from the busiest part of the floor that it felt almost secluded. his laptop was already open. two notebooks sat neatly beside one another. highlighters arranged in a straight line. a mechanical pencil resting precisely across the top page.
he looked up almost immediately. for a second, neither of you spoke. then his expression softened into a small smile.
“hi.” you whispered, hoping he wouldn’t notice the pink you could feel spreading across your cheeks for no apparent reason.
“hi.” he whispered back, his lopsided grin deepening, his dimple now visible.
you slipped into the chair opposite him, dropping your bag onto the floor with considerably less grace than he’d arranged the table.
“sorry if i’m late.”
jungwon glanced towards the clock hanging above the staircase.
“…you’re three minutes early.”
you blinked.
“…oh.”
“just had to find something to apologise for, didn’t you?” the corner of his mouth lifted slightly again as he whispered. you just looked at him for a second before laughing under your breath while pulling your laptop from your bag, bringing it up to your face because now you really had to hide your red cheeks from him. it wasn’t much, barely even a joke. but you were beginning to realise something about jungwon. he was funny! not loudly and definitely not in the way jake was, where half the room inevitably ended up laughing with him. jungwon’s humour appeared quietly, tucked between otherwise serious conversations, almost hidden beneath the way he spoke. if you weren’t paying attention, you’d probably miss it entirely. which somehow made it even better.
“thank you for doing this.” you said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence while settling your things across the table.
“for what?” he looked genuinely puzzled, eyebrows furrowed and face devoid of that grin you’d come to really like.
“helping me.”
“you asked.”
“exactly.”
“i don’t mind.” he said with so much conviction that it caught you off guard, like he was urging you to believe him. there wasn’t any awkward insistence that it was nothing, no dismissive shrug. just a straightforward answer, as though helping you had never been something he needed convincing to do.
it made something in your chest feel unexpectedly warm. you had always been the friend who offered. who stayed behind after seminars if someone needed something explained again. who reminded everyone about deadlines because you knew at least one person would forget. you liked taking care of people. it wasn’t something you thought about very often until someone quietly returned the favour.
jungwon opened one of his notebooks.
“which part?”
you pulled your own notes closer.
“this.”
you pointed towards a page that had become increasingly covered in question marks over the past few days.
“i understand the beginning.”
your finger moved lower.
“and then somewhere around here i completely lose whatever’s happening.”
he leaned forward slightly, just close enough to see the page properly. without thinking, you did the same. your shoulders almost brushed. you didn’t notice until you caught the faint scent of clean laundry and something woodsy. not cologne. nothing strong. just oddly fresh. you blinked quickly, forcing your attention back towards the notebook. jungwon, meanwhile, had already started reading. he didn’t seem to notice the distance between you at all, and you couldn’t help feeling like a little kid about the fact that you were so aware of it, and liked it in fact. perhaps he had simply decided it wasn’t worth acknowledging.
“okay,” he murmured after a moment. “i think they’re explaining it backwards.”
you looked up.
“backwards?” you asked, confusion painting your features like it rarely did. jungwon thought your scrunched eyes and tilted head was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.
“kind of.” he replied after clearing his throat. he reached for his pencil before hesitating.
“can i?”
you looked down, he was gesturing towards your notebook.
“oh.” you nodded quickly.
“yeah, of course.”
only then did he start writing. his handwriting was somehow just as neat as you’d expected. he drew a small diagram, crossed something out, rewrote it differently. then turned the notebook back towards you.
“try thinking about it like this instead.”
there was no rush in the way he explained things. he never made you feel as though you were slowing him down. if you interrupted to ask another question, he answered it without sighing or trying to move on too quickly. if you looked unconvinced, he simply found another way of explaining the same concept.
after about twenty minutes, something finally clicked. you stared at the page.
“…oh.”
jungwon looked up.
“does that make more sense?” he asked, hint of a knowing smile spreading across his face.
“a lot more.”
you looked between the diagram and him.
“why couldn’t the prof just say that?” he looked almost embarrassed by the compliment.
“they probably did.”
“they definitely didn’t.”
“maybe they explained it differently.”
“jungwon.”
he met your eyes.
“you’re being modest again.” you whispered, poking him playfully in the shoulder. colour crept faintly into his ears.
“i’m not.”
“you are.”
he looked away first. you smiled to yourself, you were starting to recognise his little pattern. whenever anyone complimented him, jungwon reacted as though they had accidentally handed him something that belonged to someone else. time passed easier than either of you expected. somewhere between diagrams, explanations and comparing lecture slides, the awkwardness that had hovered around your first few conversations dissolved into something quieter. more comfortable. you found yourself talking without thinking about it. sometimes about the work, oftentimes not. you learnt that jungwon almost always studied in the same spot because he liked the light from the window. he admitted, after a surprising amount of persuasion, that he couldn’t concentrate if people chewed too loudly. you confessed that you sometimes highlighted entire pages of content because you could never decide what was actually important.
“that defeats the point of highlighting.”
“i know.”
“then why do you do it?”
“panic.”
he looked down at your notebook.
“…fair enough.”
again, that tiny smile. small enough that someone across the room probably wouldn’t even notice it. you did, every time. and each time it appeared, it seemed to linger a fraction longer than the last. it happened gradually enough that neither of you noticed the hours slipping past. outside, the sky had darkened. students came and went around you, chairs scraping quietly across the floor as people packed their things and left. you only realised how long you’d been there when your stomach growled. loudly. the sound seemed to echo across the table, jungwon’s head snapping up at the sudden noise. your entire body froze. you covered your face with one hand.
“please pretend that didn’t happen.” heat rushed to your cheeks almost instantly.
“i left straight after my lecture this morning.” you laughed awkwardly.
“i completely forgot to eat.”
jungwon didn’t laugh. he didn’t tease you. he simply looked at you for a second before quietly reaching down beside his chair. you frowned. he unzipped his backpack, rummaged around for a moment, then placed something gently on the table between you. a packet of chocolate almond pepero. you stared at it blankly, then up at him.
“…what?”
“you should eat.”
you blinked.
“jungwon…”
“before you try and study anything else… your stomach sounds unhappy.” he mumbled out after being interrupted mid sentence by another grumble from your tummy. despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that escaped.
“thank you.”
you picked the packet up slowly, still looking at it.
“…hang on.”
he looked up from his notebook.
“how did you know these were my favourite?”
for the first time all afternoon, jungwon hesitated.
“i…”
he looked as though he genuinely hadn’t expected the question.
“jay and sunghoon used to buy them for you.” he replied sheepishly, hand scratching at the back of his neck.
“yeah, but that was only once or twice.”
“it was eight times. that i was around to see it at least.”
you stared.
“…you counted?”
“not intentionally.” he said, his eyebrows knitting together slightly.
“jungwon.”
“they were always the same… so i remembered.”
your heart did something strange. you weren’t even sure why. it wasn’t the snack. it wasn’t even the fact that he’d brought one. it was that he’d noticed! months ago, during noisy evenings where everyone had been talking over one another, he’d quietly remembered something so insignificant that even you would’ve forgotten mentioning it. you looked back down at the packet in your hands.
“that’s…”
you searched for the right word.
“…really thoughtful.”
he seemed almost confused.
“it’s just a snack.”
“yeah i know, ‘m just saying thanks anyways.” you spluttered out quickly and now, shyly, hoping he wouldn’t notice your immediate backtracking after his dismissal. you looked back up at him. for a second, neither of you spoke. jungwon rubbed absentmindedly at the back of his neck again, suddenly looking far more interested in his notebook than he had been a moment earlier.
“…i wasn’t sure if they were still your favourite.”
your smile softened again before you could stop it. it seemed like he was giving you an out from your previous embarrassment. you didn’t feel as much like you’d made an unnecessarily big deal out of it.
“they are.”
he just nodded once in reply.
“…okay.”
for some reason, that answer seemed to make him happy. and as you opened the packet, handing the first stick across the table towards him without really thinking about it, you couldn’t shake the growing feeling that somewhere along the way, tutoring had quietly become one of your favourite parts of the week.
by the time the packet of pepero was empty, the stack of notes between you had doubled. it hadn’t happened all at once. one explanation had turned into another, then into comparing lecture slides, then into jungwon suddenly deciding that one of the examples in your textbook was unnecessarily complicated and rewriting it from scratch in the margins of your notebook. you watched him for a moment while he worked. his brows drew together whenever he concentrated, creating the faintest crease between them that disappeared almost immediately whenever he looked back up. every so often, he would stop writing altogether, not because he had forgotten what he wanted to say, but because he was deciding how to say it. that was something you were beginning to admire about him. jungwon never explained things to prove that he understood them. he explained them so that you would.
it was a small difference, but one you hadn’t appreciated until now.
you had met plenty of people who enjoyed being the smartest person in the room. people who answered questions in ways that somehow made everyone else feel a little smaller for asking in the first place. jungwon was the opposite. if anything, he seemed happiest when the person sitting across from him finally understood. the little smile that appeared whenever something clicked for you was never smug, it was relieved. you caught yourself watching him again. this time, it wasn’t because he was explaining anything. he had reached up absentmindedly to push his glasses higher on his nose, only for them to slip straight back down again a few minutes later. he sighed so quietly you almost missed it before repeating the same movement without even thinking. you smiled to yourself before realising you probably looked like a bit of a perv, hastily bringing your hand up to your face to hide your smile as casually as you could.
“what?”
his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
you blinked.
“huh?”
“you smiled.”
“…did i?”
he nodded once.
“…why?”
heat crept into your face before you had a chance to stop it. he tilted his head ever so slightly. the expression wasn’t suspicious, just curious. you debated telling him. it wasn’t that embarrassing. not really. still…
“your glasses keep falling.”
his hand immediately lifted towards his face.
“…oh.”
“you’ve pushed them up about six times in the last ten minutes.”
“…have i?”
“i’ve been counting.”
for the first time since you’d met him, you watched jungwon look genuinely flustered. it wasn't dramatic, he didn’t splutter or hide his face. instead, his eyes widened just enough for you to notice before he looked away with a quiet, “i didn’t realise.”
you laughed softly.
“it’s kind of cute.”
the words left your mouth before your brain had caught up. silence settled between you. your smile disappeared.
oops! to be really honest, it was something you’d say to most people with ease. it wasn’t even typically an odd thing to point out, you remembered only yesterday telling jake how adorable he looked when he let his hair grow out a little longer. but something about the way jungwon looked up at you, like you’d just done something jail time worthy, almost made you wince. again, you felt like a kid, a really stupid one at that. you looked down at your notebook so quickly you almost gave yourself whiplash.
“i meant…”
why were you trying to explain it?
“they’re just…” you gestured vaguely towards his face without looking directly at him. “very… you.”
that somehow sounded worse.
“forget i said anything.”
you squeezed your eyes shut for the briefest second after seeing a lack of the lopsided grin you’d become accustomed to on his face. across the table, jungwon had gone completely still. he didn’t look offended. if anything, he looked as though his brain had momentarily stopped working.
cute. you had called him cute. he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that information. compliments had always made him uncomfortable. they tended to sit awkwardly somewhere in the middle of gratitude and disbelief, leaving him unsure which emotion he was supposed to choose. this one felt… different. because you hadn’t said it to be polite. if anything, you’d oddly seemed horrified that you’d let it slip, in a way so unlike what he’d seen of you these past few months. his ears felt warm. he was fairly certain they were turning pink. he hoped they weren’t.
“…thank you,” he managed eventually, the words quieter than he’d intended.
you looked back up, relief written plainly across your face. something in jungwon relaxed. the smallest laugh escaped him before he could stop it at the sheer speed in which the alleviation of your panic ensued. later, as the conversation drifted away from coursework and towards anything else that came to mind, the atmosphere around the table changed almost without either of you realising. the books remained open. pens still rested between pages. yet neither of you seemed particularly concerned with the fact that you hadn’t looked at the lecture slides in nearly twenty minutes. instead, you learnt that jungwon always listened to the same playlist whenever he studied because changing songs distracted him. he learnt that you couldn’t revise in complete silence because your thoughts became louder than whatever you were trying to memorise. you admitted that you had once colour-coded an entire set of flashcards only to lose them the day before a test. he admitted, after a surprising amount of hesitation, that he alphabetised the folders on his laptop.
“you’re joking.” you said, probably too loudly considering the fact you were in a library.
“…no.”
“every single one?”
he nodded.
“…it makes finding things easier.”
you stared at him for a moment before laughing under your breath.
“that’s…”
you searched for the right word.
“the most jungwon thing i’ve ever heard.”
“that’s probably true.”
“you agree?”
“…yeah.”
the consistent honesty of all of his answers no longer caught you so off guard. most people would’ve defended themselves, or laughed it off. jungwon simply accepted it. there was something strangely attractive about that. not because alphabetising folders was attractive.
obviously. but because he never seemed interested in pretending to be someone else. he wasn’t trying to seem cooler than he was, or louder, or more confident. he simply existed exactly as he was. and somehow, that made you want to know him even more. jungwon, meanwhile, was trying very hard not to stare. he wasn’t succeeding particularly well. he was trying so hard to make his constant glances look unintentional but his eyes simply kept drifting back without permission. you smiled all the time. he had noticed that weeks ago. not the kind of smile people put on automatically when they greeted someone. your smiles were different. sometimes they were quick and amused. like when jake would show you some stupid meme on his phone that only ten year olds would typically find funny, you usually ended up laughing at jake himself for his endearingly regressed humour. sometimes they spread slowly across your face before you even realised you were doing it. like when you and riki came to the conclusion that jay was in fact wrong about whatever he’d been arguing about with sunghoon with so much conviction.
sometimes, when you laughed properly, your nose scrunched ever so slightly. he had never consciously paid attention to something like that before. now he couldn’t seem to stop noticing. every time you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear while reading. every time you frowned at a sentence before chewing lightly on the inside of your cheek. every time you looked up after finally understanding something he’d explained. he kept remembering them.
which was again, extremely unhelpful. he was supposed to be helping you study. he felt like he’d just been gawking down at you the whole time. eventually, the announcement echoed gently through the library.
“the building will be closing in fifteen minutes…”
you both looked up instinctively, then towards the windows. outside, the sky had turned almost completely dark.
“…what time is it?” you frowned, surprise colouring your features.
“…eight forty-five.” he said, whispering long forgotten as he checked his phone.
your eyes widened.
“jungwon! we got here at one.”
“…yeah.”
you both looked down at the notebooks covering the table. then back at each other. somewhere between studying and talking, almost eight hours had disappeared.
“i didn’t even notice.”
jungwon nodded slightly.
“…me neither.”
the admission just lingered between you. it probably should have felt awkward. eight hours was a long time to spend with someone you’d only recently become friends with. instead… it felt strangely easy, comfortable, even. like the afternoon had passed exactly as it was supposed to. you packed your things away together, neither of you rushing despite the librarian beginning to switch off lights further down the floor. as you zipped your bag closed, your hand brushed against jungwon’s where both of you reached for the same pen lying between your notebooks. it barely lasted a second. just enough for your fingers to touch before both of you instinctively pulled back.
“sorry.”
you spoke at exactly the same time. then stopped. then looked at each other. a little giggle escaped you first. jungwon’s followed a second later. it was quieter, warmer. and somehow, hearing it felt like accomplishing something. walking out of the library together, you realised something that should probably have worried you a little more than it did. for the first time since uni had started you weren’t looking forward to the next tutoring session because you wanted better grades. you were looking forward to it because you wanted another afternoon exactly like this one. with jungwon. and, a step behind you, jungwon found himself thinking that perhaps he’d start arriving fifteen minutes early next week instead of ten. not because the library got busy. that was simply the excuse he gave himself, the truth was much harder to admit. he liked waiting when he knew you were the person he was waiting for.
a month passed quietly. not in the dramatic way some movies liked to pretend time moved, where seasons changed overnight and entire lives somehow transformed between one scene and the next. nothing about the last few weeks had felt particularly significant while you were living through them. lectures came and went. assignments accumulated faster than any real human being could finish them. the weather grew colder, the mornings darker, and somewhere along the way, the trees lining the paths across campus began shedding leaves that collected in damp piles beneath benches no one wanted to sit on anymore.
life carried on. the only difference was that, at some point, jungwon had become woven into it. you couldn’t have pinpointed exactly when. there hadn’t been a conversation where the two of you had agreed to keep meeting every week. nobody had suggested making tutoring a regular thing. it had simply… happened.
the first time, you’d arranged to meet because of one particularly confusing lecture. the second time, because there was another topic you wanted him to explain before a quiz. by the third week, neither of you really needed an excuse anymore. thursday afternoons had quietly become yours. sometimes you studied in the library, tucked away in the same corner beside the windows where jungwon always managed to find a table before anyone else. sometimes you ended up in the little coffee shop across from the engineering building after discovering every seat in the library had already been taken. once, when it had started raining halfway through the afternoon, the two of you had spent almost an hour sitting on the floor outside an empty seminar room because neither of you wanted to carry all your textbooks somewhere else.
it didn’t seem to matter where you were. eventually, one of you would arrive first. the other would appear a few minutes later. and somehow, without ever talking about it, the afternoon would disappear. your friends noticed before you did, not in an obvious way. little comments slipped into conversations so naturally that you rarely thought much of them.
“aren’t you with jungwon today?” sunoo had asked one thursday when you’d turned down lunch because you wanted to finish a reading beforehand.
you’d blinked.
“…yeah.”
“thought so.”
that had been the end of it. another time, heeseung had wandered into the kitchen while jungwon was packing his bag.
“library?”
jungwon hadn’t even looked up.
“…yeah.”
“she’s already there?”
“…probably.”
heeseung had smiled to himself but wisely chose not to say anything else. it wasn’t strange. at least, it didn’t feel strange. friends spent time together, friends studied together. if anything, it made sense that you and jungwon had become close. you were taking similar modules, he explained things well, and somewhere beneath all of his quietness, he’d turned out to really make you laugh. you liked being around him. that was all. or at least, that’s what you told yourself.
by now, your study sessions had developed their own unspoken routine. jungwon still arrived first. you still apologised for being late, even when you weren’t, he poked fun at you for this and made you promise you’d stop (knowing full well you never would). he still insisted on explaining concepts from the beginning instead of assuming you understood the foundations. you still interrupted him halfway through with questions that somehow sent the conversation in completely different directions. he no longer looked surprised when you reached across the table to steal whichever pen he happened to be using. instead, he simply sighed with exaggerated patience before sliding another one towards himself.
“you’re unbelievable,” he’d muttered the week before.
“thank you.” you grinned out through a mouthful of apple.
“that wasn’t a compliment.”
“it sounded like one.”
“…maybe a little.” he muttered out, mask of feigned disbelief broken by his lopsided smile.
you’d giggled so hard that people had actually looked over from neighbouring tables. jungwon looked faintly horrified, which only made you laugh harder. somewhere along the way, he’d stopped apologising every time the silence settled between you. you’d stopped feeling responsible for filling it. there were afternoons where the two of you barely spoke for twenty minutes at a time, completely absorbed in your own work before one of you quietly asked a question. the silence never felt uncomfortable. if anything, it was becoming one of your favourite parts. there was something strangely peaceful about existing beside someone who didn’t expect constant conversation.
“you’re staring.”
your head snapped up.
jungwon looked at you over the top of his laptop.
“…what?”
“you’ve been looking at the same page for five minutes.”
heat crept into your cheeks. had you? you glanced back down at your notes. the paragraph you’d supposedly been reading hadn’t changed. because, apparently, you’d spent the last five minutes watching the way sunlight caught against the rim of jungwon’s glasses instead. the way his dimple emerged slightly when he scrunched up one side of his face in concentration.
brilliant.
“i was thinking.”
“…about operating systems?”
“…yes.” you muttered out after a pause.
his eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. you tried to keep a straight face. he tried to keep a straight face. neither of you managed it.
“you’re terrible at lying,” he said quietly, poking you playfully in the arm.
you pointed your pen towards him.
“that’s rich coming from the person who once tried convincing me he didn’t alphabetise his desktop.”
“…i don’t.” jungwon replied, still trying to make you believe what you knew was false.
“jungwon.”
“…it’s organised by colour now.” he replied, eyebrows raised.
you giggled again so suddenly that you had to press your lips together to keep the sound from carrying across the library. he smiled fondly, hoping you wouldn’t notice the affection that he felt was radiating off of every bone in his body. obviously not because he’d made a joke, but because you’d laughed.
it wasn’t until saturday evening that everything unravelled. everyone had ended up at heeseung’s flat again, the same way they always seemed to. sunghoon had suggested ordering takeaway (again). jay had complained about the prices before ordering it regardless. jake and riki were arguing over a game neither of them seemed particularly good at, sunoo had somehow convinced heeseung to help him bake cookies despite the fact that neither of them appeared to know what they were doing, leaving jay and sunghoon occupying opposite ends of the sofa. you wandered into the other living room (which heeseung has fashioned into a bar of sorts) in search of something to drink. jay followed a minute later.
“can you pass me a glass?”
you reached into the cupboard without looking.
“thanks.” he replied simply, and if you’d met his gaze, you’d have seen the slight raise of his eyebrows and the hint of a smirk playing on his face.
he leaned against the counter while you filled your own glass with water. there was a comfortable quiet between the two of you, broken only by the distant sound of riki insisting someone had cheated.
“so.” he started.
you looked over.
“so?”
jay shrugged.
“nothing.”
“…you’re doing that thing again.” you exclaimed, probably louder than you should’ve.
“what thing?”
“where you say ‘so’ because you actually want to ask something. that thing that all older women do.” you said, poking him. you thought maybe riki was rubbing off on you, making fun of jay’s mannerisms even though he was only a junior, not too far off of you. he didn’t even bother denying it, just rolled his eyes at you exaggeratedly.
“…are you and jungwon dating?”
the question landed so casually that, for a second, your brain didn’t register it. you just blinked up at him for a second.
“…what?” you muttered, eyes wide.
“you heard me.”
“jay.”
“yes?”
“…what?”
he frowned slightly, as though you were the confusing one.
“i’m just asking.” he smiled, poking at you as if to reassure you. he didn’t expect you to have an expression on your face akin to that of someone who’d just been stabbed.
“why?” you said, forcibly narrowing your eyes as you tried to steel yourself.
“because you spend half your week together.”
“we study together.”
“you also get coffee afterwards.”
“because we’re already there.”
“and then you walk each other home.”
“…we live in the same direction.”
jay just hummed in response, doing that annoying, all-knowing thing with his eyebrows again.
“interesting.”
“what is?”
“how you’ve got an answer for every single one.”
you opened your mouth. closed it again. before you could muster up another aimless defence, sunghoon wandered into the living room.
“what are you two talking about?”
jay answered before you could.
“whether she and jungwon are dating.”
sunghoon paused.
“…i thought they were.” he said casually.
your heart stopped. you actually thought this in your head before coming to the gross realisation again of how childish you probably seemed. sunghoon turned to glance between you and jay, looking genuinely confused.
“wait…”
his eyes moved between you and jay again.
“…you’re not?” he almost exclaimed, shock painting his features.
“…nope!” you said, popping the p in a desperate attempt to seem unbothered.
“oh.”
“…my bad.” he sounded almost disappointed.
you stared at both of them.
“…why would either of you think that?” you muttered, bringing your cup to your lips in a quiet plea that they’d take that question rhetorically.
much to your dismay, jay just gave you a look that bordered on incredulous.
“because every time one of us asks where you are, the answer is jungwon.”
“because he’s put almond pepero on the ‘essentials’ section on heeseung’s shopping list. and we all know you’re the only one who likes them.”
to your horror, sunghoon continued counting on his fingers.
“because i’ve seen him smile more in the last month than i did during the whole first year.”
“because you both look for each other before anyone else when we all meet up.”
your mouth opened. nothing came out. jay’s expression softened almost immediately, a twinge of regret in his eyes.
“hey.” he nudged your shoulder gently.
“i wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”
“…i know.” you mumbled, now even further embarrassed realising he’d probably noticed the flush on your cheeks.
“just forget i asked.”
you nodded. you tried to smile. you weren’t sure whether it looked convincing. because the problem obviously wasn’t that jay had asked. the problem was that, for the first time, you couldn’t stop replaying everything he’d just said. you did look for jungwon first. you’d never noticed that. and much more terrifyingly, had he?
jungwon had always preferred kitchens to living rooms. not because there was anything particularly interesting about washing dishes or collecting empty glasses, but because kitchens gave him something to do. there was a certain comfort in keeping his hands occupied while conversations carried on around him. from the sink, he could still hear everyone laughing from the other room, hear riki loudly accusing jake of cheating at whatever game they’d inevitably started, hear sunoo protesting about something that was almost certainly insignificant.
it was familiar. comfortable. he liked that. he was rinsing the last of the glasses when footsteps approached behind him, quick enough that he didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. riki had never been particularly subtle.
“avoiding us already?”
jungwon glanced over his shoulder briefly before returning his attention to the sink.
“i’m just washing dishes.”
“that’s not what i asked.”
he smiled faintly to himself. “i know.”
another pair of footsteps followed a moment later, slower this time. heeseung. without a word, he picked up a tea towel and began drying the plates jungwon passed across the counter. it was something the two of them had done often enough that neither of them thought about it anymore. for a while, the three of them worked quietly. or, more accurately, jungwon and heeseung worked quietly while riki stood nearby looking as though he were waiting for the perfect opportunity to interrupt.
it didn’t take long.
“so…”
jungwon didn’t look up.
“…what?”
“where’s y/n?”
the question was so casual that it took him a second to process, he frowned slightly in response.
“in the living room?”
“no.” riki shook his head.
“she went to get a drink.”
“…okay.” jungwon said blankly, obviously confused.
“and you didn’t follow her.”
jungwon finally looked up.
“…was i supposed to?”
the grin that spread across riki’s face immediately made him suspicious. heeseung noticed too, hiding a smile behind the rim of his glass.
“he genuinely doesn’t realise,” riki muttered, sounding almost impressed.
“realise what?” jungwon almost exclaimed, frustrated now.
instead of answering immediately, heeseung rested the plate he’d been drying on the counter and regarded jungwon thoughtfully.
“when was the last time the two of you weren’t together for more than a day?”
jungwon just blinked. the question felt oddly specific. he thought about it for a moment. lectures, the library, coffee after studying, group dinners, another study session.
“…i don’t know.”
the answer came more honestly than he’d intended. because he genuinely couldn’t remember. somewhere over the last month, seeing you had become part of his routine. not in a way he’d ever consciously planned. you were simply… there. thursday afternoons belonged to the library now. if one of you finished class early, the other usually received a message asking whether they wanted to start studying sooner. if you both happened to be on campus longer than expected, one of you would inevitably suggest grabbing something to eat before heading home. none of it had felt unusual. it still didn’t. friends spent time together, and that was all.
“exactly,” riki said, sounding far too smug and pleased with himself.
jungwon frowned, which riki took as a sign to continue.
“that’s exactly my point.”
“…i don’t know what your point is.”
“you never do.”
heeseung laughed quietly, folding the tea towel over one shoulder.
“he means that you’ve become close.” heeseung finally chipped in, fond look ever present in his gaze when regarding you or jungwon.
“we are close.” the words slipped out defensively before jungwon had really considered them. he paused, then looked back down at the sink.
“…i think.”
heeseung’s expression softened.
“you don’t have to sound so unsure.”
jungwon wasn’t unsure, that wasn’t the problem. he knew the two of you had become friends. good friends, probably. it was just strange hearing someone else say it aloud. because once they did, he found himself replaying the last few weeks in his head. you reaching across the table without asking to steal his pen, the way you always thanked him, even after he’d insisted you didn’t have to. the fact that you now complained whenever he skipped lunch, as though it had somehow become your responsibility to make sure he ate. he hadn’t noticed any of those things changing. they simply had.
“she’s good for you.” heeseung said it so matter-of-factly that jungwon looked up again.
“…what do you mean?”
“you seem happier.”
jungwon almost laughed.
“because i’m helping someone study?”
“because it’s her.”
the kitchen fell quiet. jungwon looked away first, he didn’t really know how to answer that. he liked spending time with you. that much was obvious. you made difficult afternoons feel lighter somehow. studying, something he’d always considered a solitary task, had become something he looked forward to instead of simply getting through. you made him laugh. more than he’d expected. sometimes without even trying. but that didn’t mean anything, did it? before he could untangle the thought, riki nudged his shoulder.
“you’re a lucky bastard, you know.”
jungwon looked at him.
“she’s pretty.” he continued, heeseung rolled his eyes in response, exasperated with riki’s instinct to always state the obvious.
“and she’s really really nice. everyone likes her.” there wasn’t any jealousy in his voice, just simple certainty.
“she could’ve asked loads of people for help.” heeseung added, much to jungwon’s dismay.
“yeah, well, she asked me.” jungwon almost snapped back, frown deepening further.
“exactly.” riki smirked.
“that’s what we’re saying.” heeseung added on.
jungwon opened his mouth before closing it again. but it was true, you had. for reasons he still didn’t fully understand. before he could think about it any longer, riki ruined the moment completely.
“seriously, hyung.”
he grinned.
“if i were you, i’d be feeling pretty lucky.”
jungwon rolled his eyes, reaching over to swat him lightly around the back of the head.
“you’re unbelievable.”
“i know.”
riki rubbed the back of his head dramatically despite the fact that the hit had barely registered. heeseung only shook his head, amused. neither of them pointed out the faint colour settling across jungwon’s ears. neither of them needed to. because jungwon was already wondering why a perfectly ordinary conversation had left him thinking about you. not about your coursework, or the next tutoring session. just you. and for the first time since the two of you had become friends, he found himself lingering on the thought much longer than he meant to.
somewhere along the way, jungwon stopped feeling like someone you were trying to get to know. for months, he had existed at the edge of your life. someone you recognised before you knew him. someone whose name you heard often, whose face you saw across lecture halls and at group dinners, but never someone you expected to become important to you. now, you couldn’t remember the last time you went an entire day without speaking to him. it wasn’t intentional. that was what maybe made it worse. there had never been a conversation where the two of you decided to become close. no dramatic turning point where you suddenly realised you were friends. it had happened in the quiet spaces between everything else. a message after a lecture because you’d both complained about the same assignment, a five minute conversation that somehow became forty, a walk back from the library that became a regular thing because your routes happened to overlap. you had started knowing things about jungwon that you never would have noticed before. aside from the obvious, everyone knew he was smart. everyone knew he was reliable. everyone knew he was the person people went to when they needed help understanding something complicated. you knew the smaller things. you knew he always checked the weather before leaving the flat because he hated being caught in the rain, you knew he got quieter when he was tired, not because he was upset but because he was saving what little energy he had left for anybody else that needed it, you knew that when he was trying not to laugh, he pressed his lips hard together like he was physically stopping himself.
you knew he pretended not to care about things he absolutely cared about. and somehow, those were the things that made him impossible not to like. which was becoming a bit of a problem. because you were starting to notice him in ways you hadn’t before. you realised it one evening in the library. not in some huge, overwhelming way. you weren’t staring dramatically across the table, suddenly struck by how much you liked him… it was much more inconvenient than that. you were working through a practice question, completely stuck despite having already read through the explanation twice. jungwon was beside you, typing something into his laptop while occasionally glancing over to check your progress. you had gotten used to that, his quiet attention. the way he never interrupted unless he thought you genuinely needed help, the way he somehow knew when you were about to give up before you even admitted it.
“you’re doing that thing again.” he whispered, breaking the silence.
you looked up.
“what thing?”
his eyes moved briefly to your notebook.
“you’re staring at the paper like it’s a death sentence or something.”
you looked back down.
“feels like one.”
a small smile appeared on his face. that tiny reaction you had somehow become weirdly proud of causing. jungwon didn’t often laugh loudly. he didn’t have the dramatic reactions that some of your friends did. but when you made him smile, it felt like you’d earned something. which was ridiculous, you knew that. still.
“you’re impossible,” he said, rolling his eyes fondly.
“and yet you keep tutoring me.” you whispered back, scrunching up your nose as you did so.
“that’s because i’m nice.”
you looked at him, really looked at him with that quizzical glare he’d come to love.
“that sounded suspiciously like you were complimenting yourself.”
“i was stating a fact.” he muttered back, flush rising to his cheeks as he suddenly turned his head back to his laptop.
you giggled under your breath.
and that was when it hit you. not because he looked particularly different, or because something magical happened. just because you realised you wanted to remember this. you wanted to remember sitting in this library with him, you wanted to remember the way he looked when he was trying to defend himself, you wanted to remember the sound of his voice when he was amused. and that was when the thought finally settled.
oh. you liked him. and not in the vague way you liked people, the way you liked your friends. you liked jungwon. and instead of feeling terrifying, the realisation was strangely calm. like your brain had finally caught up with something your heart had already known for weeks.
after that, you didn’t suddenly become a different person. if anything, you became more yourself around him. because now that you knew why you enjoyed being around him, you stopped trying to explain it away. you stopped pretending that you didn’t look forward to thursdays. you stopped pretending that you didn’t check your phone more often when you knew he might message. you stopped pretending that you didn’t notice when he walked into a room. and maybe you became a little less subtle. not intentionally. you just found yourself wanting to make him smile, wanting to hear his little laugh, wanting to see the moments where he forgot to be reserved. you teased him a little bit more. you stole his pens more often despite having your own. you sent him random messages that had absolutely nothing to do with studying. sometimes he replied immediately. sometimes it took him hours because he was busy. but he always replied. and every single time, you caught yourself smiling. which was embarrassing because you had never been someone who cared this much about a notification.
jungwon noticed. he wasn’t sure when it started. at first, he thought nothing of it, you had always been friendly. that was one of the first things he had noticed about you. you made people feel instantly comfortable, you talked to literally everyone, you remembered names with an ease he wished he had about him. you smiled at strangers like it was the simplest thing in the world. so when you started saving him a seat before he arrived, he assumed you were just being considerate. when you started bringing him into conversations more often, he assumed you were making sure he didn’t get left out. when you started teasing him more, he assumed you were simply comfortable. all of those explanations made sense, because they were true.
but jungwon was also beginning to realise there was a difference between how you treated everyone else and how you treated him. you were still yourself, but there were moments. small ones. like the way you sometimes seemed to look for his reaction after saying something funny. like how you remembered things he mentioned once and brought them up weeks later, similar to what he did with you. how you had somehow learned his coffee shop order without him ever telling you, however simple it was.
he noticed. he noticed everything. that was the problem. because the more he noticed, the harder it became to convince himself that you were just being friendly. and he didn’t know what to do with that. jungwon had never been someone who rushed into things. he liked certainty, he liked understanding situations before acting on them. but with you, everything felt slightly unfamiliar. because he understood assignments and he understood programming, he understood problems with clear and correct answers. he didn’t understand why he felt disappointed when you had to leave early, he didn’t understand why he checked his phone more often than usual after sending you a message. he didn’t understand why, whenever everyone was gathered together, he always seemed to know where you were without trying. and he definitely didn’t understand (and was beginning to feel very frustrated by the fact) why he had started looking forward to fucking tutoring sessions of all things even when there was usually very little actual tutoring involved.
“you’re coming tonight, right?”
jungwon looked up from his laptop. you were standing beside the table, your bag already over your shoulder.
“coming where?”
you stared at him.
“jungwon.”
he blinked up at you before realising.
“oh.”
“game night.” you said, smiling at him and pumping your fist with excitement. right. the group had been planning it for nearly a week, he knew that. he just hadn’t connected the reminder to the fact that you were the one asking.
“yeah, sure, i’m coming.”
“good.” you replied, flashing him a toothy grin. your answer came too quickly but you didn’t seem embarrassed by it. if anything, you looked pleased.
“because i need someone on my team.”
jungwon raised an eyebrow.
“you lost last time.” he deadpanned, glare flat but not devoid of a soft affection behind it, an affectionate which he secretly hoped you wouldn’t miss.
“because everyone cheated.” you whined, before remembering to keep your voice down.
“everyone?”
“everyone.”
“including me?”
“especially you.” you whispered back after hesitating a little.
he shook his head, but he was smiling. and you noticed. of course you noticed. you felt like you noticed everything about him now. however, the thing you didn’t notice was the way he watched you walk away. or the way he smiled slightly to himself when he realised he’d started looking forward to the evening for a reason that had nothing to do with the silly games jake and heeseung put him up to.
by now, nobody questioned where jungwon would be sitting. it wasn’t something that had been decided. there had never been a conversation where someone had pointed at an empty chair and declared it his, or where you had officially claimed the space beside him as yours. it had simply become another one of those small, unnoticed habits that appeared when people spent enough time together. the same way sunghoon always complained about being hungry approximately ten minutes after eating. the same way jay pretended he wasn’t invested in whatever game everyone was playing despite somehow knowing every rule. the same way jake always arrived a little bit late and acted as though everyone else had been waiting up specifically for him. and the same way jungwon always ended up beside you. sometimes you noticed it, sometimes you didn’t. that was probably what made it feel so natural. there was no awkwardness anymore. no carefully choosing where to sit, no wondering if you were bothering him, no hesitation before sending him a message that had nothing to do with coursework. at some point, jungwon had stopped being someone you were trying to get comfortable around. he was just someone you were comfortable with. which was arguably much more dangerous. because once you got used to someone being there, you really started noticing when they weren’t.
game nights had become a regular occurrence in heeseung’s flat. not weekly, because everyone had enough assignments and deadlines to make that impossible, but often enough that it had become part of everyone’s routine. the first few times, you had still felt like you were unwelcome, entering someone else’s space. jungwon, heeseung and riki lived together, and although you were friends with all of them, there had always been something slightly different about being in their home. it was where jungwon existed outside of uni. where he wasn’t the person sitting at the front of lectures with a laptop open and a notebook full of impossibly neat handwriting. here, he was different, softer. he wore old t-shirts and pyjama shorts instead of structured outfits. his hair was usually messy from running his hands through it while studying. he complained more than people would expect, especially when sunoo purposely chose the most frustrating games possible.
it was strange how much you liked seeing those parts of him. not because they were really that surprising, but because they were his. you had spent so long knowing him as someone everyone admired from a distance that getting to see the ordinary parts made you feel oddly special. tonight was no different. you were sitting on the floor between the sofa and coffee table, surrounded by half-finished drinks, snacks and discarded game pieces. everyone was talking over each other, which meant nobody was actually listening properly. except jungwon. he always listened, you had noticed that early on. even when he wasn’t actively involved in a conversation, he was paying attention. he remembered details people mentioned casually. he noticed when someone looked uncomfortable and quietly changed the subject. you had once asked him how he remembered so much. he had just looked genuinely confused, as though he hadn’t realised he did it, it was just so ingrained in his being, to care for others. that was probably one of the things you liked most about him. he never seemed to understand how thoughtful he was.
“you’re overthinking it.”
you looked beside you. jungwon was looking at your cards.
“you don’t even know what i’m thinking.” you frowned.
“yes, i do.”
“you’re very confident.”
“you’ve been staring at the same card for three minutes.”
you looked down, then back at him.
“that doesn’t mean anything.” you pouted, glaring slightly at him now over the top of your deck. he just smiled in response.
you should have been used to that by now. his tiny grins, just for you. the way he was much funnier than people gave him credit for because most people never stayed around long enough to notice. but you weren’t, not really. because every time he made you laugh, some part of you still felt ridiculously pleased that you were the one who got to see that side of him. which was a thought you tried not to examine too closely.
the thing about liking jungwon was that it hadn’t changed your friendship. that had surprised you. you had expected the realisation to make everything feel different and much more complicated. like suddenly every interaction required careful consideration. instead, you had simply become the tiniest bit more aware. you noticed when he pushed his glasses further up his nose while reading. you noticed how he always checked whether everyone had arrived before starting anything. you noticed that he never took the last of whatever odd snack jake had bought over from the table unless someone specifically told him to. you noticed that he always walked slower when leaving places with you. that last one had taken you a while to figure out because jungwon never made a show of it. he never said he was waiting, he simply adjusted his pace. and somehow, you always ended up walking together. you wondered if he knew he did that. you wondered if he realised how many little things he did that made you feel important. you also used to wonder if you were the only one who noticed, which now you suspected was false after jay’s earlier interrogation. you were right. you realised this when you returned from the kitchen with two drinks and found everyone looking at you. well, not everyone. specifically just jay, sunghoon and sunoo. which was somehow worse.
“what?” you murmured, your voice lacking any real bite because of the probably too loud sigh that followed it.
sunoo immediately looked away too quickly for your liking.
“nothing.” he said, voice an octave higher.
“that was suspicious.” you narrowed your eyes at him.
“you’re suspicious.” he snapped back, sticking his tongue out immaturely.
“that doesn’t even make sense.”
“exactly.”
you stared at him blankly, then forced your gaze upon jay, who seemed like he was trying very hard not to smile.
“why are you all being weird?” you whined.
“we’re not.” sunghoon muttered, wiggling his eyebrows in that annoying way he often did.
“you are.” jay whispered at you, smug expression still pasted onto his sharp features.
before the conversation could continue, riki interrupted from across the room, completely unaware that he had saved you from being questioned further. or maybe he was aware. with riki, it was impossible to tell. you sat back down, handing jungwon his drink without thinking. only after you had done it did you realise you’d remembered exactly what he liked. again. not because he had told you, but because you just knew. jungwon accepted it with a quiet thank you, looking down at the cup before glancing back at you.
“you remembered?”
the question was innocent, he just sounded oddly surprised. you weren't quite sure why when he did the same kind of thing tenfold when it came to remembering your preferences and favourite things. but something about it made you feel a disappointed. because you weren’t sure why it surprised him so much.
“of course i did.” you shrugged forcibly, doing a bad job of feigning nonchalance.
you said it before you could overthink it. for a moment, jungwon just looked at you. then his expression softened.
“right.” he replied, face now weirdly blank other than the remaining fondness in his eyes.
that was all, just one word. not worth overthinking, you repeated in your head like a mantra.
later that night, when everyone had started leaving, you found yourself standing near the front door with jungwon. it wasn’t unusual because he always walked you out. sometimes he walked you home. sometimes he didn’t, depending on how late it was and how much work you desperately urged him to finish. you peeked out of the open door to see that it was raining lightly.
“i didn’t bring an umbrella.” you said sheepishly. jungwon just glanced towards the coat rack.
“i have one.”
“you don’t have to walk me.”
he looked at you. not confused, just slightly surprised. as though the idea had never occurred to him.
“i know.” he replied blankly.
there was a pause. you immediately thought about backtracking, embarrassment probably evident on your face at how you seemed to just expect him to follow you to your accom, so used to it by now that you didn't even think of the other possibility. a feeling akin to shame burned at the back of your neck. then, he picked up his jacket.
“i want to.”
the relief that spread across your features was palpable. you hoped he didn't notice. jungwon said things like that so naturally, without hesitation, without realising how much weight they carried for you. you just smiled.
“okay.” you said so quietly it was almost a whisper.
the walk home was quiet. not awkward, never really awkward anymore. you talked about small things. things that wouldn’t matter tomorrow. complaints about assignments. something stupidly funny jake had said to him earlier. a random story sunghoon had told you and sunoo about his crazy ex. ordinary things. you found yourself thinking that ordinary things with jungwon never really felt ordinary. and beside you, jungwon was having a similar thought. he had spent most of his life believing that comfort was something you built alone. in a quiet room, a familiar routine, a predictable schedule. he had never expected another person to become part of that. but somehow, you had. and the strange thing was, he didn’t feel like you had interrupted his life. you felt like you had always been there. when you reached your building, you turned back towards him.
“thanks for walking me.”
jungwon shook his head.
“you don’t have to thank me every time.”
you smiled.
“i know.”
a small pause, which you’d both seemed to be accustomed to by now. then, almost unconsciously, he smiled back. and neither of you noticed how long you stood there before saying goodbye, neither of you noticed that you were both reluctant to be the first person to leave. but maybe that was the thing about something becoming important. you didn’t always notice the moment it happened. sometimes, you only noticed when you realised you didn’t want it to stop.
the dinky coffee shop you two had discovered months ago had become quieter as the afternoon wore on. the lunchtime rush had disappeared almost an hour ago, leaving behind only the occasional student hiding from the rain outside and a few people scattered amongst the tables with laptops propped open in front of them. neither of you had noticed how late it was until one of the baristas began wiping down the empty tables nearby, a subtle reminder that perhaps spending nearly four hours discussing coursework wasn’t entirely normal behaviour. not that either of you minded. you couldn’t remember when studying had stopped feeling like studying when it was with jungwon. assignments still frustrated you and deadlines still came far sooner than they should have, but somewhere along the way, the time between arriving and leaving had started disappearing far too quickly. it was becoming increasingly difficult to separate whether you enjoyed the afternoons themselves or simply enjoyed spending them with him. if you were being honest with yourself, you had known the answer for a while now.
it was still strange thinking about it sometimes. not because it felt wrong or overwhelming, but instead because it felt so obvious in hindsight. you wondered if everyone else apart from jay and sunghoon had figured it out before you had. judging by the increasingly knowing looks from the rest of your friends whenever his name appeared in conversation, you suspected they probably had. you smiled faintly at the thought as you closed your notebook, reaching across the table to collect the loose sheets of paper that had somehow migrated onto his side over the last few hours.
“i think we’ve done enough work for today,” you sighed, stretching slightly in your chair.
jungwon looked up from his laptop, his expression softening into something quietly amused.
“we’ve been here longer than some of my lectures.”
“exactly my point.”
he laughed quietly before also beginning to pack his things away. over the last few months, you had grown used to moments like these. comfortable silences had become second nature between the two of you now. there was no pressure to fill every moment with conversation anymore. it was nice. you had begun to realise recently that your favourite part of the week wasn’t thursday afternoons themselves. it was the fact that they belonged, in some small way, to the two of you. uni was unpredictable and busy and constantly changing, but somehow this, whatever it was, had remained untouched by all of it. you knew that probably meant more to you than it should. probably meant more to you than it did to him.
“everyone keeps asking me about you, by the way.”
the words left your mouth casually as you zipped your bag shut. it wasn’t entirely untrue. all of your friends, not just your mutuals, had become increasingly interested in jungwon’s existence over the last few months, much to your embarrassment.
his eyebrows lifted slightly as he glanced towards you.
“why?”
“i don’t know.” you laughed quietly. “they’re nosey.”
“that’s unfortunate.”
you smiled to yourself at his response before continuing to pack your things away. there was something about talking to jungwon now that felt so easy compared to those first few conversations. you didn’t overthink every sentence anymore. you had long since stopped wondering whether you were bothering him. he was your friend. hopefully more than that, if you were thinking positively. the thing was, lately, you had started wondering whether perhaps you weren’t entirely alone in all of this. there were moments where he looked at you for slightly longer than necessary, moments where he remembered things you were sure you had only mentioned once, moments where he would choose to stay just a little longer when neither of you really needed to. you weren’t foolish enough to assume that meant anything on its own. but, naturally, sometimes you wondered. perhaps that was why you foolishly felt brave enough to continue the conversation.
“you know,” you smiled, resting your chin briefly against your hand as you looked across the table at him, “jay’s like… convinced that there’s something going on between us.” you blurted out as quickly as you could, as if not to give yourself time to immediately regret it.
his expression shifted immediately into something slightly embarrassed.
“i know.”
“it’s getting difficult to convince people otherwise at this point.”
“is it?”
“a little bit.”
there was a brief pause as he packed away the last of his things. you weren’t sure what the fuck possessed you to say what came next. perhaps it was because things had been so good lately. perhaps it was because you were tired of wondering whether you had imagined every small moment between the two of you over the last few months. or perhaps it was simply because you liked him enough to be a little brave! you smiled softly, looking down at your notebook rather than at him.
“i don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “i don’t think i’d mind all that much.”
the words were deliberately vague. gentle enough that you could pretend they meant very little if you needed to. however, you realised they weren’t ambiguous enough to fully shroud your true intentions after mumbling them out. the silence that followed lasted only a few seconds. it felt significantly longer. jungwon seemed to have froze. for a moment, he wasn’t entirely sure he had heard you correctly. his mind immediately began trying to make sense of what you meant, each possibility somehow more terrifying than the last. he knew his friends joked about the two of you often enough. he knew people made assumptions about your friendship. except suddenly, sitting across from you now, he realised there was another possibility he had spent months refusing to acknowledge. you. liking him. the thought shouldn't have felt so shocking anymore. it still did. because if you liked him, then suddenly every feeling he’d spent months carefully ignoring demanded to be acknowledged in return. and jungwon had never been particularly good with uncertainty. friendships made sense to him because they had rules he understood. this didn’t. he didn’t want to lose what the two of you had now. he didn’t want to make things difficult or uncomfortable or complicated. he didn’t want to ruin this.
“i don’t think…” he began quietly before stopping himself, hand reaching up to scratch awkward at the back of his neck. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.”
your smile faltered almost imperceptibly, a grimace attempting to fight its way through.
“oh.”
it was such a small sound that he almost missed it entirely. he rushed to continue, unaware that the conversation the two of you were having had become entirely different ones.
“i just mean…” he paused, struggling to explain thoughts he’d barely managed to understand himself. “things are good how they are.”
you pasted on what you thought was your best smile before he had the chance to notice your expression properly.
“yeah.” you replied, nodding your head almost feverishly so he really understood that you meant nothing by it, ignoring the sinking feeling in your gut.
well, at least you had your answer now. looking back, you supposed you should have expected it. jungwon had never really been someone who sought out change when he was happy. perhaps you had simply allowed yourself to become a little too hopeful over the last few weeks. it was embarrassing more than anything else. how stupid of you to have misread things so badly.
“you’re right,” you smiled quietly, standing from your chair and slipping your bag over your shoulder. “they are.”
jungwon just smiled back, relieved that you seemed to understand him. what he didn’t currently realise was that you’d heard blatant, painful rejection, when he’d simply meant to reassure you, and in turn, himself. somehow, that hurt you far more than if he’d simply said no.
if jungwon was really being honest with himself, he thought things had gone surprisingly well. he had spent the entire walk home from the coffee shop replaying the conversation in his head, wondering whether he had explained himself properly. he hadn’t. he’d hardly gotten out a full sentence, much less explained to you everything that was on his mind like a normal person. he knows why he said what he said, because things are good how they are. it had felt honest. reassuring, even, to him at least. and to you too actually! you had smiled afterwards, you had agreed with him. the conversation hadn’t become uncomfortable or tense or anything he had spent the previous five minutes worrying it might become. so, all things considered, he had gone home thinking he’d done the right thing. for approximately twenty-four hours. because the strange thing about spending so much time with someone was that you became accustomed to all of their little habits without ever consciously meaning to. they simply became part of his own routine before he had realised they were there. jungwon knew exactly how long it usually took you to reply to his messages. he knew that you hated studying in complete silence and always put together strangely specific playlists whenever assignments became particularly difficult. he knew that you had an endearing tendency to become more affectionate when you were excited about something, talking slightly faster and laughing a little louder than usual. he knew that when you were tired, you absentmindedly played with the sleeves of your jumpers while trying to stay focused. he knew these things in the same unconscious way that he knew the walk back to his flat or his coffee order or his timetable for the semester. he simply knew them. which was why he noticed almost immediately when something had changed. not enough for anyone else to pay attention to, just enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. the first few days afterwards, he convinced himself he was imagining things. you still smiled at him when you saw him. you still sat right beside him whenever the two of you studied together. you still laughed at his jokes, even the terrible ones that never seemed to land with anyone else. nothing had changed. except, somehow, everything had.
you’d stopped doing that stupid thing where you stole his pens. it was almost like tradition now, like a routine, however childish and intentional you both knew it was. that one shouldn't have bothered him nearly as much as it did. for the last few months, he had found himself bringing extras whenever the two of you studied together because you always seemed to lose yours or decide his were somehow better despite being exactly the same. the first tutoring session you’d had after the coffee shop, he had unconsciously placed two pens beside your notebook before he’d even sat down, like he always did. one of them remained untouched for three hours. he told himself he was being ridiculous for noticing, yet he noticed anyway. you thanked him more often now, which somehow felt worse than if you hadn’t thanked him at all. there was a distance in your gratitude that hadn’t existed before. before, your appreciation had always been accompanied by teasing or laughter or some dramatic declaration that he’d saved your degree. now, they sounded almost formal.
you were still kind. still yourself. just… quieter around him. nobody else noticed it. of course they didn’t. you were exactly the same around everyone else. he watched you laugh so hard at something jay had said one evening that tears had gathered in the corners of your eyes, heeseung watching you fondly from the other sofa. he’d watched you complain dramatically to sunoo about an assignment you’d been putting off for nearly two weeks, riki mocking you right to your face, much to your feigned annoyance. he’d watched you lean comfortably against sunghoon’s shoulder during a movie when you’d become sleepy halfway through. and then he’d watched you be stirred awake by jake’s constant fidgeting on the other side of you. you hadn’t changed. not really. except somewhere along the way, you had become slightly more careful around him. and that was infinitely worse. he found himself thinking about it far more often than he cared to admit.
“you’ve been staring at absolutely nothing for ten minutes.”
jungwon blinked before looking up from where he’d been sitting at the kitchen table. riki was looking at him suspiciously from across the room, eating cereal directly from the box despite heeseung’s careful placement of perfectly usable bowls right next to the boxes, to try and make it easier for him to just do the normal thing.
“i haven’t.”
“you have.”
heeseung looked up briefly from where he’d been making coffee before glancing between the two of them.
“you have.” he agreed through a grimace, much to jungwon’s dismay.
jungwon frowned slightly. “i’m just tired.”
“you’ve been tired for two weeks.”
“uni is difficult.”
riki snorted loudly from his seat.
“no, y/n is difficult.”
the words caught him so off guard that he nearly dropped his pen. heeseung, as always, looked considerably less surprised.
“i was wondering how long it would take for you to say it.” heeseung muttered, rolling his eyes.
jungwon just stared at both of them.
“…what?”
“you’re moping, won.” riki snapped, his tone of voice not matching the sympathetic look on his face.
“i’m not.”
“you’re staring into space all the time.”
“i do that anyway.”
“you’ve made coffee twice this week and forgotten to drink it.”
he paused.
“…that’s happened before.”
“not because you’ve been thinking about someone.” heeseung finally interjected, annoyingly all-knowing look in his gaze. jungwon went suspiciously quiet after that. because that wasn’t possible. was it? he’d spent so long trying not to think too carefully about his feelings for you that he had somehow missed when they’d become something entirely different. he missed hearing from you throughout the day. he missed the way you’d absentmindedly rested your chin against his shoulder while trying to read something on his laptop screen. he missed the familiarity of knowing exactly what you were thinking before you’d said anything at all. more than that, though, he simply missed feeling close to you. he found himself looking for you whenever he walked into a room before he’d even realised he was doing it. he knew immediately when something had happened that he wanted to tell you. he’d begun associating particular songs with you because you’d insisted on adding them to his playlists weeks ago. you had somehow become woven into the fabric of his everyday life so gradually that he’d never noticed it happening. and now, suddenly, he noticed your absence everywhere. perhaps the cruelest part of all of this was that he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done wrong.
you were still there. you still smiled at him. you still sat beside him every thursday afternoon. but somewhere between two tuesdays ago and now, he had lost something he couldn’t quite name. for someone who had spent his entire life preferring certainty, he had never felt more confused. he was beginning to realise that things were no longer good how they were, and they hadn’t been for a while.
there was something particularly embarrassing about realising you’d been wrong. not devastatingly wrong or life-altering or anything dramatic enough to warrant crying over to your friends at two in the morning. just quietly, painfully wrong in a way that made you wish you could go back and shake yourself from three weeks ago. you weren’t upset with jungwon, you couldn’t be. that would imply he’d done something wrong when, if anything, he’d been much kinder than he needed to be. looking back now, you weren’t entirely sure where your confidence had come from that afternoon. maybe the months of small moments, insignificant accumulating into something bigger in your mind. perhaps it had been everyone else’s comments beginning to blur the lines in your head. or perhaps it had simply been wishful thinking.
whatever it had been, it had been yours. not his. that was the important part. you had offered him an open door and he’d quietly, gently closed it. that was all there was to it. it should have been easy enough to move on from.
the embarrassing part was that you found yourself replaying months worth of memories and wondering how many of them you had gotten wrong. moments that had made your stomach twist pleasantly suddenly felt different when viewed from another perspective.
of course he remembered your coffee order, because jungwon remembered everyone’s. of course he walked you home whenever it got late, because he was simply thoughtful. of course he stayed a little longer whenever the two of you studied together because he enjoyed spending time with his friends.
you hated how quickly your own thoughts began correcting themselves now. there had been a time, not even a month ago, where those moments would have made your heart race for entirely different reasons. now, they simply made your cheeks warm with embarrassment, hot shame burning in your gut.
perhaps that was why you had unconsciously started pulling back. not because you were upset or angry or trying to punish him for anything, but because liking someone who didn’t like you back was difficult enough without making yourself feel disgustingly foolish every time you looked at them.
you still wanted to be his friend. more than that, really. you couldn’t imagine suddenly removing him from your life after everything the two of you had become over the last few months. jungwon had become one of your favourite parts of uni so gradually that you hadn’t noticed it happening until it already had. that hadn’t changed simply because he didn’t feel the same way. you still smiled whenever he sent you something funny. you still looked forward to your thursday afternoons together. you still thought he was one of the kindest people you’d ever met.
you simply couldn’t afford to like him quite so loudly anymore. it was wierd, the little things you stopped yourself from doing without ever consciously deciding to.
you stopped reaching for his sleeve whenever you wanted his attention. you stopped sending him photographs of random things throughout your day simply because they reminded you of him. you stopped sitting quite so close whenever the two of you studied together.
small things. almost insignificant things. except they weren’t insignificant to you. because each one had been an unconscious expression of your affection before you’d realised what it was. you had never meant for him to become so woven into your everyday life.
some days were easier than others. there were moments where you forgot entirely and everything felt comfortably familiar again. then there were moments where he laughed quietly at something you’d said or looked at you with that same soft expression he always wore around you and your heart would ache just a little before settling once more.
you wondered if that feeling would ever completely disappear. hopefully, eventually, it would. for now, though, you thought friendship was enough. it had always been enough before you’d become so greedy for more.
maybe that was why you felt guilty sometimes when jungwon looked slightly confused whenever you thanked him for something or didn’t immediately steal the pen he’d unconsciously left beside your notebook.
because none of this was his fault, he hadn’t changed. you had.
and if protecting your own feelings meant becoming slightly more careful around him for a little while, then you thought that was something you could live with.
jungwon couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so out of place.
looking back, he probably should have refused when heeseung asked him for what felt like the hundredth time if he wanted to tag along. in his defence, it had been a particularly long week and an even longer month. assignments had begun piling up again, he’d somehow managed to spill coffee over half of his notes two days ago, and, perhaps most embarrassingly of all, he’d spent the better part of three weeks pretending he wasn’t miserable whenever he noticed that things between you two had changed.
he was tired of moping around his apartment. riki had become particularly ruthless about pointing it out over the last fortnight and heeseung had long since given up pretending to be subtle whenever he brought your name into conversation.
apparently, staring sadly at your contact for twenty minutes before deciding against sending a message about a video he’d seen was gross and pathetic behaviour. at least according to riki. who was probably right as he knew a whole lot more about these things than jungwon.
despite that, jungwon had still voiced that riki’s assessment of his conduct was unnecessarily harsh. heeseung had wholly disagreed. which was how he’d somehow found himself accepting a drink from jake less than two minutes after arriving.
and then another. and then one he’d accepted entirely because he’d forgotten he’d already had two. he wasn’t drunk. he never really had been. well, at least, he didn’t think he was.
he was simply pleasantly warm and considerably more relaxed than usual, leaning against the kitchen counter while only half listening to whatever story sunghoon was currently telling him. the music was louder than anything he would ever willingly choose to listen to himself and there were significantly more people crammed into the house than he’d initially anticipated, but he was enjoying himself more than he’d expected. granted, he was doing his best to ignore the heavy smell of weed emanating off of jake.
he’d laughed more tonight than he usually did in an entire week. perhaps heeseung had been right after all.
“you should do this more often,” heeseung smiled, nudging his shoulder lightly as he handed him another drink.
jungwon looked down suspiciously at the cup before looking back at him.
“i’ve learnt enough from tonight to know that’s a terrible idea.”
heeseung laughed quietly.
“you’re surprisingly tolerable when you’re tipsy.”
“thank you.”
“that wasn’t entirely a compliment.”
before jungwon had the opportunity to respond, riki appeared between them carrying approximately four different bags of snacks tucked beneath one arm.
“he smiled at a stranger twenty minutes ago.”
jungwon frowned. “i was being polite.”
“you apologised when they walked into you.”
“…that’s also polite.” jungwon muttered back after a moment of hesitation.
“no,” riki laughed, “that’s just wierd.”
heeseung just smirked into his drink. there was something strangely amusing about watching jungwon slightly tipsy. he’d spent so much of uni worrying and overthinking and analysing every situation presented to him that removing even a small amount of that caution left behind him considerably softer than people expected. he laughed easier. smiled more readily. he allowed himself to simply exist amongst conversations rather than constantly listening from the outside of them.
he seemed lighter somehow. it really suited him.
“where’s y/n?” jungwon asked quietly before quickly taking another sip of his drink, pulling his cup up to his mouth with slightly shaky hands.
the three seconds of silence that followed were perhaps the most suspicious seconds of silence he’d ever experienced in his life.
slowly, against his better judgment, he looked up, only to be met with a slightly unsightly view of heeseung and riki garishly grinning at him, their eyes wide but gaze lacking the surprise that usually went hand in hand with this kind of exaggerated expression.
somewhere behind him, he was reasonably certain he could hear jake giggling, although, he could be mistaking it for a cough, courtesy of jake’s persistent tendency to inhale too quick.
“…what?” jungwon snapped, eyebrows furrowed.
“nothing,” riki replied immediately.
“you asked where she was before you’ve asked where literally anyone else is.”
“i asked where you were.”
“after i’d been standing beside you for twenty minutes.”
jungwon chose not to dignify that observation with a response. instead, he just looked towards heeseung expectantly.
“sunoo said she should be here soon.” heeseung said reassuringly, supportively placing his hand on jungwon’s shoulder. although, in hindsight, that may’ve just been to hinder his incessant swaying.
jungwon nodded absentmindedly before returning his attention towards the conversation around him. he didn’t think very much of it. after all, asking where you were wasn’t particularly unusual anymore. he was simply accustomed to knowing whether or not you’d be somewhere.
that was all.
at least, that’s what he’d spent the last three weeks desperately trying to convince himself. it was considerably easier to maintain that delusion when you weren’t standing in front of him.
he heard your laugh before he saw you.
that wasn’t unusual either.
he thought he’d probably recognise your laugh anywhere now, which was perhaps a more embarrassing admission than he’d ever willingly make aloud. his head turned instinctively towards the front door before he’d consciously registered why and suddenly there you were, laughing quietly at something sunghoon had said as you slipped your coat from your shoulders.
you looked really pretty tonight. the thought came so quickly and naturally that it startled him slightly. you always looked pretty, obviously. he’d realised that a long time ago. he simply didn’t allow himself to think about it very often.
perhaps alcohol was significantly more dangerous than he’d initially given it credit for. he watched absentmindedly as you smiled brightly at everyone gathered in the room before your eyes eventually found his. the smile that appeared faltered slightly, but almost immediately afterwards became softer somehow.
“you’re here?”
there was something oddly sweet about the genuine surprise in your expression.
“i’m beginning to regret it already,” he smiled quietly, suddenly all too aware of the heat on his cheeks and the smoky smell clinging to his hoodie.
you laughed softly at that before making your way towards him.
“that’s because you’ve only been here for an hour.”
he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d spent the last few days forcibly convincing himself things hadn’t changed all that much between the two of you.
they had. he’d known that. he simply hadn’t realised quite how much he’d missed this. you still smiled at him exactly the same way you always had. you still laughed quietly whenever he made particularly terrible jokes. you still seemed happier somehow whenever the two of you were talking.
the difference was subtle enough that nobody except him would ever notice it. you didn’t touch his arm absentmindedly anymore when you laughed. you left slightly more space between the two of you than before. and perhaps most noticeably of all, you no longer looked at him first whenever something happened that you thought was funny.
they were impossibly small things. he noticed every single one of them anyway.
the rest of the evening passed comfortably enough. conversations blurred together as more people arrived and the music grew louder, everyone splitting themselves into smaller groups before eventually finding their way back together once more.
somewhere throughout all of that, jungwon had unconsciously begun following you around. it wasn’t intentional. at least, not consciously.
if you were in the kitchen, he somehow found himself there five minutes later. if you sat beside sunoo on the sofa, he’d absentmindedly occupy the empty space beside you without thinking very much about it.
he simply preferred being wherever you happened to be.
heeseung had noticed approximately thirty minutes after you’d arrived. riki had noticed considerably faster than that.
“oh my god.”
heeseung looked up from where he’d been talking to jake.
“what?”
riki gestured vaguely towards the living room where jungwon was currently laughing quietly at something you’d said.
“he’s literally following her.”
heeseung just shrugged noncommittally in reply, grin still pasted onto his face.
“no, hyung. look.” riki urged him, poking at his arm before pointing at you and jungwon.
there was something strangely amusing about watching jungwon tonight. he smiled more whenever he was speaking to you. his shoulders relaxed whenever you sat beside him. if somebody asked him a question whilst he was looking at you, there was an unusually chance he’d need it repeated.
he was completely hopeless. his tipsy state wasn’t helping matters, especially considering it was more or less his first time.
“that’s actually insane,” jake laughed quietly as he watched you fix the hood on jungwon’s hoodie where it had folded awkwardly against itself.
jungwon thanked you absentmindedly before immediately continuing whatever conversation he’d been having with you moments earlier. he hadn’t even seemed to notice he’d paused talking entirely whilst you’d fixed it, neck hot as you’d brushed it slightly with your fingers.
sunghoon laughed quietly beside him.
“i don’t think i’ve ever seen him look at another person that much.”
heeseung smiled into his drink.
“i’ve been saying this for months.”
riki looked genuinely offended.
“and nobody thought to tell him?”
“we have.”
“repeatedly.”
the younger boy’s expression somehow became even more scandalised.
“he’s more oblivious than she is.”
perhaps the most ridiculous part of all of this was that jungwon remained entirely unaware of every observation being made about him throughout the evening. he was too busy wondering whether you’d always looked quite so beautiful whenever you laughed.
he was beginning to suspect that perhaps you’d always looked exactly like this and he’d simply spent too much time pretending not to notice. for someone who had spent weeks mourning the small changes in your friendship, he was finding it increasingly difficult to remember why he’d ever thought things were better before.
it was approaching three in the morning by the time people began discussing leaving.
the house had quietened considerably over the last hour or so, conversations becoming softer as people sank further into sofas and armchairs, unwilling to brave the walk back home just yet. somebody had long since changed the music to something significantly quieter and there was something strangely comfortable about the aftermath of nights like these.
jungwon found that he didn’t mind this part nearly as much as he’d expected to.
he was pleasantly tipsy now, the warmth from the alcohol still lingering comfortably in his chest as he sat amongst conversations that seemed to weave together around him. for perhaps the first time since beginning uni, he wasn’t thinking quite so carefully about every little thing he said or did. he simply existed amongst it all.
more importantly, though, he’d spent most of the evening sitting beside you.
it had been strangely easy to fall back into old habits tonight. somewhere between laughing quietly at your complaints about one of your assignments and listening to sunoo dramatically retell something that had happened earlier in the week, jungwon had almost forgotten that things had ever changed between the two of you at all.
almost.
because every so often, he’d catch himself waiting for you to unconsciously lean your shoulder against his before remembering that you didn’t really do that anymore. looking back, he wasn’t entirely sure when he’d become quite so selfish.
“you seem suspiciously happy tonight.”
jungwon glanced towards riki sitting opposite him before quietly rolling his eyes.
“i’m fine.” he replied, forcing back a pout.
“that’s somehow significantly more suspicious.”
heeseung laughed quietly from beside him before following riki’s gaze towards where you were sitting, your cheeks slightly pink from both the alcohol and your laughter as you listened to jake explain something particularly enthusiastically with his usual accompanying hand gestures.
“…oh,” riki deadpanned. “never mind.”
jungwon frowned slightly. “what does that mean?”
“nothing.”
it meant considerably more than absolutely nothing.
you looked so beautiful tonight. he thought perhaps indulging in so many drinks had simply removed whatever part of his brain usually stopped him from acknowledging thoughts like that because he’d lost count of how many times he’d found himself looking at you throughout the evening.
it wasn’t only physical attraction anymore either, although he’d long since realised he found you beautiful. it was smaller things than that. he liked the sound of your laugh when you were tired because it became slightly quieter than usual. he liked listening to you talk excitedly about things he knew absolutely nothing about simply because you always looked so happy when you did. he liked that you still became flustered whenever somebody complimented you despite spending your entire life being loved so easily by the people around you.
he liked who you were when you thought nobody was really paying attention. which never truly happened. people were just drawn to you in that way, himself included.
you caught him looking at you from across the room and smiled instinctively, lifting your hand slightly in a small wave before continuing your conversation. his expression softened almost immediately. heeseung watched the entire interaction over the rim of red plastic cup before looking towards riki.
“‘s painful to watch.” he whispered into riki’s ear.
eventually, conversations again turned towards leaving. sunoo had somehow managed to fall asleep against sunghoon’s shoulder almost twenty minutes earlier and jake had been unsuccessfully attempting to convince everyone to stay for another hour despite complaining about how tired he was himself.
jungwon had been helping clear empty glasses from the coffee table when he’d heard you shyly giggling beside him. he glanced towards you immediately.
“how much have you had to drink?”
you thought about it briefly before laughing again sheepishly.
“that’s probably not something i should have to think about.”
he just smiled quietly at that. you weren’t drunk, not really. simply pleasantly tipsy in much the same way he was. your movements were slightly slower than usual and your smile was somehow impossibly softer than it had been all evening.
still, it was enough for him to dislike the idea of you walking home by yourself. you’d always gone out more than he had throughout uni. if he was being honest with himself, he had worried about you walking home late more times than he would ever willingly admit aloud. that wasn’t particularly new. what was new, however, was his willingness to actually voice it.
“i want to walk you home.”
the words came so naturally that he didn’t really think about them before saying them.
“you don’t have to.” you said, not bothering to stifle the way your jaw temporarily dropped open at his words.
“i know.” he whispered, turning quickly before you could see the further flush on his cheeks, half flustered, half guilty at the way you seemed so shocked by the simple words he usually just held back.
i know. you felt your heart ache slightly before reminding yourself that jungwon had always been thoughtful. he would have offered regardless. you smiled softly up at him.
“okay.”
the walk back was quieter than most. perhaps because the world always seemed gentler after midnight or perhaps because the alcohol had left both of you softer around the edges than usual. your fingers brushed accidentally once when the two of you reached for the sleeve of your jacket that had slipped from your shoulder and neither of you commented on it.
somehow, though, neither of you immediately pulled away either.
and for perhaps the first time in weeks, things didn’t feel quite so different between the two of you anymore. not yet, at least.
there was something comforting about walking through the city this late at night. the rush of the evening had long since disappeared, leaving behind little more than the occasional passing car and the sound of quiet conversation spilling from restaurants preparing to close for the evening. you’d always loved nights like this.
perhaps that was why you’d never minded when jungwon walked you home after studying ran particularly late or movie nights stretched far longer than anyone had originally intended. somewhere along the way, walking beside him had become one of the most familiar things in your life. you were very grateful for that.
the last few weeks had been easier than you’d expected them to be. difficult sometimes, certainly, but easier nonetheless. enough time had passed now that the burning humiliation had softened around the edges into something a little more manageable. jungwon was still one of your favourite people and, if you were being honest with yourself, you thought he probably always would be.
beside you, jungwon was unusually quiet. perhaps he was simply tired after an evening spent far more socialising than he usually subjected himself to. still, there was something different about him tonight. he’d spent almost the entire evening beside you. every time you’d looked around the room, he’d somehow found his way back to wherever you happened to be. even now, his hand brushed occasionally against yours as the two of you walked side by side down familiar streets.
it reminded you a little too much of before.
“thank you for walking me home.”
his eyebrows pulled together slightly at that.
“you don’t have to thank me every time.”
you smiled faintly. “it’s still polite.”
“you never used to.” he blurted out, voice dropping an octave. the words were quiet enough that you almost missed them.
for a moment, neither of you spoke. there were some conversations that seemed easier to avoid than begin. you looked down at the pavement briefly before laughing quietly to yourself. “i’m trying to be better.”
“i don’t think you… needed improving.” he slurred his words a little at the edges.
you hated how easily he could still make your heart ache sometimes. the thing about jungwon was that he had always said the kindest things when he wasn’t thinking about them first. before you had the opportunity to reply, he spoke again.
“i’m sorry.”
you frowned slightly as you looked towards him.
“for what?”
he was quiet for longer than usual this time, his attention fixed somewhere ahead of the two of you. he’d spent the last few weeks thinking about very little else besides what he’d said to you that afternoon and every moment that had followed afterwards. he missed things he hadn’t even realised he would notice before they disappeared. he missed you in ways that felt increasingly impossible to ignore despite the fact that you’d never actually gone anywhere.
it had become difficult pretending that nothing had changed when he thought about you constantly. he was tired of pretending.
“everything.”
your expression softened immediately.
“jungwon…”
“i’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”
you laughed quietly. only then did he notice the deep shame behind your eyes before you lowered your head. “that doesn’t surprise me very much.” you mumbled.
that earned a small smile from him before it disappeared just as quickly.
“i lied.”
you felt yourself pause slightly beside him.
“about what?”
his laugh, usually filled with affection, sounded soft and self-deprecating somehow.
“things being good how they were.”
you froze, gaze still locked onto the floor. suddenly, the walk home didn’t feel so quiet anymore.
“i thought they should be,” he admitted quietly. “i thought if i ignored it for long enough it would just…” he trailed off before shaking his head slightly. “i don’t know.”
there was something almost unfair about hearing him say the things you’d spent weeks trying to convince yourself you’d imagined. you let him continue, feeling a prickling in the corner of your eyes.
“i miss you.”
the confession was so quiet that it almost disappeared amongst the sounds of the city around the two of you.
“i’m right here,” you muttered, watery smile still pasted onto your face for as long as you could muster.
“that’s not what i mean.” he cleared his throat, steely gaze locked onto you.
your heart was beating far too quickly now. so much so that it felt like it’d pop out of your throat.
“then what do you mean?”
he wasn’t entirely sure when he’d become brave enough to say these things. maybe the everflowing drinks had simply quietened the part of him that usually overthought every feeling before allowing himself to voice it. or perhaps he was simply tired of slowly losing the bits of you he liked so much.
“i miss the way things were before that day in the coffee shop,” he admitted honestly. “i miss you texting me about things that don’t matter and sitting too close to me whenever we study and stealing my pens even though we both know you’ve amassed such a collection that you could probably make good money selling them.” he babbled out, suddenly feeling like he was speaking at the speed of light.
your eyes softened almost immediately.
“jungwon…”
“and i know i don’t really get to miss those things because this was my fault.”
a long pause. you didn’t want to fill the silence.
“heeseung says i’ve been insufferable for like… three weeks.”
that startled a giggle from you despite yourself.
“only three?”
“apparently riki thinks that’s generous.”
the two of you smiled at each other softly before the moment settled into something quieter once more.
“i was really scared,” he admitted finally. “and i think i still am.”
you waited patiently for him to continue.
“but i’ve realised i’m… significantly more scared of things staying like this.”
the honesty in his voice stole whatever response you’d been preparing.
slowly, he reached for your hand, his fingers slipping carefully between yours as though he was still giving you the opportunity to pull away if you wanted to.
you didn’t.
“i like you,” he smiled quietly. “which is unfortunate because i’m beginning to think i’ve liked you for a really long time.”
“that is unfortunate.” you whispered, unable to hold back your pout now.
there had never really been anyone else who made him feel the way you did. not in the way you had slowly become part of his everyday life without either of you noticing. not in the way he searched for you the moment he walked into a room, or how easily his mood changed simply because you were there. not in the way he had spent weeks feeling the absence of things he hadn’t realised he depended on until they were gone.
and now, standing in front of you, he finally understood just how much he had been avoiding. the moment he finished speaking, there was a quietness between you that felt different from all the others you’d shared before.
then your eyes filled.
jungwon froze.
the guilt hit him almost immediately. he hadn’t expected that. he’d imagined this moment so many times over the last few weeks, but somehow he’d never considered that you might cry. not because he thought you wouldn’t care, but because he hadn’t realised just how much his hesitation had hurt you.
“i’m sorry,” he whispered.
his hand lifted almost without thinking, fingers brushing gently against your cheek as he wiped away the tear before it could fall any further. the familiar gesture felt strangely unfamiliar now, like he was finally allowing himself to do all the things he had spent months stopping himself from doing.
“jungwon,” you murmured, shaking your head slightly.
you weren’t upset with him. that was the worst part. even now, even after he had made you feel like you had imagined everything between you, you were still looking at him like you were worried about him feeling guilty.
because that was who you were. and maybe that was the exact reason he had fallen for you without noticing. you had always been patient with him. you had always made space for him. you had always understood the things he struggled to say. and he had spent weeks convincing himself that keeping things the same was safer, when losing the little pieces of you that had become so important had been far worse. the small smile you gave him was enough to ease some of the tension in his expression.
“you’re so unbelievable,” you whispered, voice still slightly unsteady.
he let out a quiet laugh, relieved despite himself.
“i know.”
and somehow, that was enough.
enough for you to stop worrying about whether you were misunderstanding him. enough for him to stop wondering whether he had ruined everything. because for the first time in weeks, neither of you were holding back.
the hands resting on your shoulders crept up to hold your face again, brushing away another stray tear as jungwon motioned to tilt your head up a little further, his reassuring gaze meeting yours again. he cautiously brought this thumb around to brush over your lip, searching your eyes for any unwillingness. he took note of the way your face fit perfectly in his grasp before leaning in, lips finally meeting yours.
the kiss was hesitant at first, almost like both of you were waiting to make sure this was real. but when you leaned into him, when you didn’t pull away, the uncertainty slowly disappeared. he took your bottom lip into his mouth as you somehow reached between the little space between you two to wrap your arms around his head, fingers resting at the nape of his neck, softly carding through the dark hair at the bottom.
to your dismay, the tears you had tried to hold back slipped free anyway, caught between relief and the overwhelming feeling of finally getting what you had spent so long trying not to want.
jungwon noticed immediately. of course he did.
he pulled back, despite your unintentional and somewhat embarrassing whine at the loss of his soft lips against yours. his hand stayed against your cheek, thumb brushing gently beneath your eye as his expression softened with that same guilt from before.
but before he could apologise again, before he could turn this moment into another thing he needed to fix, you kissed him again. softer this time, a quiet reassurance. the way you pressed against him serving as a reminder that he didn’t have to keep apologising for caring about you.
and maybe that was what finally made him let himself believe it, that this wasn’t something he had accidentally ruined. this was something you both wanted. and he’d no longer be living on the edge of your life anymore. he’d make it his mission to get closer and closer to the centre everyday.
contents… 📂 ׄ 𓂂 drabble, perverted and shameless heejake, reader is a little dumb and clueless but eventually figures them out :3 super suggestive, making out and getting handsy in a dressing room (｡>﹏<)
— 𝓝ia 🗯️ ; wow my dream date… cute. (¬_¬") this was supposed to be an smau but writing it felt more right whoops i’m nervous
thinking about bimbo!reader who’s got her two bestfriends heeseung and jake on a tight leash, completely oblivious to the fact that they’re both desperately in love with her and are very willing to share her between themselves with no issue.
following her around the mall like two lost pups, both hands occupied by endless shopping bags as she bounces from one store to another, the sound of her newly bought kitten heels echoing through heeseung and jake’s ears whilst their eyes are glued to the back of her pink little miniskirt swishing around, barely covering a thing. geez, such perverts! (˶˃𐃷˂˶)
and then comes their favorite part of the day. their hearts practically leap out of their chests when your eyes catch a glimpse of their your favorite lingerie store, dragging them inside cluelessly to ask for their opinions as you naturally did with all the other stores, questioning them on which color looks good on you the best. their hungry gaze trailing your every move almost going unnoticed by you.
and who are they to say no when you ask them to join you in the dressing room to help? you might be an airhead, but you’re not that stupid to not notice them ogling you the entire day. plus, you think they deserve a little treat for putting up with you and your shopping addiction. so when they tower over you from the front and the back, trapping you between themselves, all you can do is let out a pleased hum as jake kisses you rough on the lips, not wasting a second while his slender fingers play with your hardened nipples through the lace bra he had picked out minutes before.
“look at her jake, such a pretty mess for us already..” heeseung mumbles before pressing a soft kiss against your neck. his hands slid down your bare waist, knee in between your thighs and pressed against your soaked core, making you mewl against jake’s lips.
you then decide that shopping with these two will be your favorite part of the week from now on.
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · In which where a misunderstanding causes yn to break up with her bf Heeseung and move away to nyc. First few months in and she gets scouted for an acting role ? Which leads her to become one of the top actresses of Hollywood. Now what happens when Heeseung who has been yearning for his ex for 1 year now comes across her being on the twitter page of Netflix ? ᝰ.ᐟ
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ pairing : actress!reader x ex!heeseung
⁀➴warning :- kys jokes,suggestive language, a lot of cursing
The Best friend chronicles (Selected members only)
Jealousy, Jealousy - upcoming mini series
----coming soon----
Lee Heeseung
---Loading---
Park Jay
Seeing is believing
Summary: Jungwon simply cannot believe that Jay's girlfriend is that good. He hates that she is taking Jay’s attention because he doesn’t understand how a girl can be soooo important. That’s how Jungwon discovers how good pussy is.
Sim Jake
Alexa, play Hrs & Hrs
Summary: Jake is a certified munch and the type to go for HOURSSSS
Park Sunghoon
My man on willpower
Summary: Your boyfriend is truly a sweetheart, he is the best, sometimes you want to kill him with how much he teases you, luckily it doesn’t translate into the bedroom… or does it?
Kim Sunoo
Not cute anymore
Summary: Everyone thinks he is the safe one, the best friend, the wholesome one, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
Yang Jungwon
Seeing is believing
Summary: Jungwon simply cannot believe that Jay's girlfriend is that good. He hates that she is taking Jay’s attention because he doesn’t understand how a girl can be soooo important. That’s how Jungwon discovers how good pussy is.
synopsis: you're moving into your college apartment when a handsome guy helps you with your heavy boxes on the stairs. He turns out to be Jay, your older neighbor — a lawyer who quickly becomes part of your new life. He listens to you ramble for hours but never offers much about himself, and you tell yourself it's fine, that everyone has boundaries. Being with him feels too right to question, so you let yourself fall anyway, completely lost in him and blind to what's right in front of you until it's too late.
includes: student!reader x lawyer!jay, age gap (not specified), neighbors to lovers (?), lots of domestic fluff mixed with rough sex, slow-burn buildup before the smut, explicit sexual content (mdni), big dick jay, size kink (emphasis on thickness, length, belly bulge, stretching, etc.), cockwarning, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, multiple orgasms, spitting in mouth, overstimulation, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, riding, missionary, spooning sex, car sex, doggy, spanking (punishment), manhandling, dirty talk, nipple play, soft dom!jay, brief mean dom jay, aftercare, pet names (princess & baby).
wc: 19.2k ─ a/n: ngl i'm so insecure about this... it took me forever to finish because i was running out of creativity and kept giving up, but i finally did it! really hope you guys like it anyways. i'd really appreciate any feedback! happy reading <33
comment here to join the tag list! .𝜗𝜚 ݁˖
You have been waiting for this moment for months, even years. You are finally moving out. It is because of college, but still, it is a new beginning far from home — a brand-new chapter in your own space. A mix of excitement and nervousness settles in your chest, because living alone requires a lot of responsibility, and you are not sure if you are ready to handle it all.
For the past five minutes, you have been staring at the mountain of boxes crammed into the trunk and backseat of your car like a game of Tetris. You are wondering how you are going to carry so many boxes up to the third floor where your apartment is. With a deep breath, you finally grab one of the boxes, and immediately stagger under its weight.
"Maintenance. Sorry for the inconvenience" reads the sign taped to the elevator doors.
Drops of sweat form on your temples, down the back of your neck, and pool on your spine, making your shirt stick to your skin. Of course it would be hot as hell on the day of your move, and of course the elevator wouldn't be working — talk about lucky.
You take another deep breath, hug the box against your chest, and begin climbing the stairs slowly, careful not to lose your balance.
Your arms are trembling and your breathing is almost as heavy as the box by the time you finally reach the first floor, forcing you to set it down for a moment to rest. But just as you pick it up again, mentally preparing for the next flight of stairs, the sound of footsteps coming down from above catches you off guard.
A man is coming down the stairs. He’s tall, wearing a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the prominent veins on his forearms. His jaw is sharp — probably sharper than any knife you’ve ever seen. He looks so put-together that you suddenly feel embarrassed by your sweaty face and disheveled state.
Seeing you, he stops immediately, his eyebrows furrowing with mild concern. "Whoa. Let me help you with that." His voice is low and smooth, the kind of voice that sends a shiver down your spine before you can stop it.
You blush, heat rising from your neck to your cheeks. "Oh, you don’t have to. I can manage—"
"I insist," he replies gently, waiting with his hands hovering, giving you the choice. You let him take the box, and the relief is immediate — your arms practically sing in gratitude. He lifts it as if it weighs nothing, cradling it against his chest with just one arm — the same box you were struggling to carry with both. "I’m Jay, by the way."
You quickly wipe the sweat from your forehead and try to fix your hair because you want to look at least a little presentable for the incredibly good-looking man helping you. "Thank you so much. I’m y/n. I’m moving in today, to apartment 3B."
Jay’s expression softens, and a warm smile spreads across his face. "3B? That’s interesting. I live right next door, in 3A." He nods toward the stairs. "Looks like we’re neighbors." He gestures ahead. "After you."
You both climb the remaining stairs together and your heart still pounding. You can’t tell if it’s from the physical effort earlier or from his company. Because of the nerves, the words start tumbling out before you can stop them.
"I’m starting college this week. I got accepted and everything, and I was so excited when I found this apartment. It’s the first time I’ve ever lived away from home, so I’m really thrilled… but also kind of terrified? Like, what if I get lost on campus? What if my classes are way harder than I expected? I brought way too much stuff, I’m kind of attached to my things, you know?" You let out a breathless laugh. "Sorry, I’m probably talking too much. I get really chatty when I’m nervous."
Jay glances at you as you walk, the box still balanced effortlessly in his arms. He doesn’t look annoyed — in fact, he seems amused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You’re not talking too much. It’s a big change, but you’re doing great."
You bite your lower lip, watching him as you climb. There is something intriguing about him that sparks your curiosity. "And you? Are you a student too, or…?"
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "No, I’ve already graduated. I work at a company downtown." He says it casually, offering no further details — which only makes you even more curious.
You reach the landing of the second floor and have to stop to catch your breath, while Jay doesn’t even seem slightly winded — it’s honestly impressive. "My parents helped me pack my bags, but they’re hours away now. It’s exciting, though. New city, new people. I just hope I don’t ruin everything."
"You won’t," Jay says gently. "Everyone feels like that at the beginning. The nervousness is normal. Besides, you seem like you have a good head on your shoulders. You’ll find your rhythm." He sets the box down carefully in front of your door. "Ready for another round?"
The words hit you like a spark. "Ready for another round." And before you can help it, your mind immediately drifts, imagining Jay on top of you, his strong body pressing you into the mattress, that same low voice murmuring the question against your neck while his hands pinned your wrists above your head. Heat flooded your face and settled lower in your belly.
You quickly shake your head, trying to push the thought away, desperately hoping your blush isn't too obvious. "Yes, let's do it."
He carries the rest of the boxes for you, going up and down the stairs multiple times. Meanwhile, you keep rambling nonstop about what you are studying, where you are from, and how you are feeling about this new phase of your life. He listens as if he genuinely cares, and even though you can’t quite place the age difference between you two, you feel surprisingly comfortable with him.
When the last box finally makes it through the door, you stand in the hallway with a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Jay. Honestly. I don’t know what I would have done without you."
"Glad I could help. Moving is a big step. If you need anything else, I’m right next door." With that, he returns to his own apartment, leaving you surrounded by a sea of boxes that will clearly take hours to unpack.
A few days pass. You unpack — not everything, just the most important things. Your first classes are overwhelming. You get lost twice, accidentally walk into the wrong lecture hall, and sit through an entire lecture on quantum physics before realizing your mistake. But as embarrassing as it was, that mistake ended up leading you to a guy named Jake, who turned out to be incredibly nice and cute.
Now you are standing outside Jay’s door with a plate of cupcakes in your hands, ready to properly thank him for helping you with the move. The thing is, you can’t really bake; you tried making the cupcakes yourself but ended up burning the batch, so you had to go to the bakery on the corner to buy a box of them instead. They look a bit too professional, but since he doesn't know about your complete lack of kitchen skills, you're confident he won't suspect a thing — especially since you took them out of the box and arranged them nicely on a plate just to be extra safe.
You knock on his door, your heart pounding hard in your chest. He opens it a moment later, and his face lights up when he sees you. "Hey, neighbor," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "How are classes going?"
"Good," you reply, pushing the plate forward with a little too much force. "Great, actually. I only got lost twice today, which is an improvement." Your smile widens. "I brought these for you. For helping me with the move. I made them myself."
He looks at the cupcakes, then back at you, this time raising an eyebrow. "You made these?"
"Yes," you say, nodding firmly with your chin held high, trying to look confident. "From scratch. All by myself. I’m pretty good at baking."
He picks up one of the cupcakes and examines it, narrowing his eyes as he brings it closer to his face. You feel your determination starting to crumble.
"Really?" he asks with a smile, clearly testing how long you will keep up the lie. "From scratch?"
You hold his gaze for three whole seconds before you look away in embarrassment. Your shoulders drop and your face turns as red as a tomato. "Okay, fine. I bought them at the bakery on the corner. I took them out of the box so you would think I’m a functional adult who knows how to bake." You laugh at yourself. "I tried making them the other day, Jay. I set off the smoke alarm. I’m a danger to this entire building."
He throws his head back and laughs — not mocking you, but with a genuine, warm laugh that makes you feel less embarrassed about pretending you had baked the cupcakes. "Oh my God, you actually burned them?"
"I once burned noodles. I’m a total disaster in the kitchen."
He steps aside, still smiling, and gestures for you to come in. "Alright, come in. I’ll split one of these ‘homemade’ cupcakes with you. It’s the least I can do for someone who put so much effort into the task."
Your mom’s voice whispers in the back of your mind: "Don’t talk to strangers and definitely don’t go into their apartments, sweetheart." But is he really a stranger? He is your neighbor who carried all your boxes without complaining, and the way he stands there holding the plate of cupcakes with that smile makes you not hesitate at all.
You follow him inside. He leads you to the kitchen, grabs two small plates, and carefully unwraps a vanilla cupcake, splitting it in half before sliding one piece toward you.
"Have a seat," he says, pointing to the stool by the kitchen island.
"So, you mentioned you work downtown? What exactly do you do?" you ask as you sit down.
"I’m a lawyer," he replies, taking a bite of his half and nodding in approval. "Good choice of bakery, by the way."
You laugh, biting into yours. "A lawyer. That makes a lot of sense. You have this… I don’t know how to say it without sounding weird, but you have this organized vibe. Like you’re really good at arguing without even raising your voice."
His smile widens. "People have definitely told me that before that I have a ‘courtroom voice.’ It’s just my normal voice, only lower and slower. People tend to listen when you don’t yell."
"You’ll have to show me someday. If I ever get in legal trouble, I’ll know exactly who to call."
"Please don’t get in legal trouble. But if you do, I’m your guy."
The conversation flows just as easily as it did on moving day, and before you know it, you’re venting about your annoying professor, how massive the campus is, and all the times you’ve already managed to get lost. Between all the talking, the cupcakes completely disappear, leaving the coffee he made to sit cold and barely touched in your mug. There’s just something about him that instantly puts you at ease.
Despite the age gap, he never talks down to you or makes you feel small, which makes talking to him completely effortless. It’s just so comforting to have someone around who listens to you with that much care and attention — especially when he happens to be incredibly good-looking, leaving you totally hooked since the very first day.
As he walks you to the door when you finally get up to leave, he snatches a pen and a post-it note to scribble something down. Before you know it, he’s pressing the paper into your palm, his fingers brushing lightly against yours and sending a sudden warmth to your cheeks as he says, "Here’s my number, in case you ever need anything."
"Thank you," you say, smiling a little too wide.
He nods. "Anytime. Seriously. Don’t be a stranger."
────────
The grocery bags dig painfully into your fingers as you stand in the lobby, staring at the elevator doors that are still under maintenance. You look at them as if a miracle might happen — maybe if you stare for one more second, God will take pity and finally fix it. Nothing happens, of course, which makes you let out a long sigh of frustration. It has been days since you moved in and the elevator is still not working.
Your arms already hurt from carrying way too many bags. You definitely should have made two trips, but stubbornness won.
Reaching the second floor is pure torture; your arms are burning, those plastic handles are digging right into your palms, and the bags keep swinging awkwardly against your legs. Trying to stop and adjust your grip only makes things worse, to the point where you're seriously considering just sitting right there on the stairs and crying.
You finally collapse against the wall at the third-floor landing, letting the bags slide to the floor just to catch your breath. Right then, the door to 3A clicks open and Jay steps out — perfectly dressed for work with that annoyingly handsome lawyer look that instantly makes your stomach do a little flip.
He sees you immediately. For a second, his eyes take in the whole scene — your flushed face, the many overloaded bags, and the way you are leaning against the wall breathing heavily. A light, amused laugh escapes him. It is not mocking, just genuinely entertained, as if he expected nothing less from you.
"Carrying heavy stuff again?" he asks, walking toward you. "You really don’t learn, do you?"
Before you can even open your mouth to protest, he is already reaching for the bags, picking them all up at once as if they weigh absolutely nothing. His strong arms support the weight so effortlessly that his biceps press against the fabric of his dress shirt, making it completely impossible for you not to stare.
He turns and walks toward your door, carrying everything like it is nothing.
At your doorstep, Jay sets all the bags down carefully against the wall and turns to face you. His expression is calm, almost unreadable, but there is something more in it. You understand it the moment he starts speaking in a gently scolding tone. "You really shouldn’t carry so much at once," he says, crossing his arms. "It’s not safe and it’s clearly too heavy for you. Make two or three trips next time. Look at your hands, they’re all red. You were hurting yourself. Why? Because you’re way too stubborn, huh?"
You glance down at your palms, and they are red where the plastic handles dug in. "I was fine," you say, though even you do not believe it. "I almost made it."
"Don’t be stubborn."
"You sound exactly like my dad," you reply, crossing your arms to mimic him. "He’s always telling me I’m too stubborn for my own good."
Jay’s lips curve into a small smile. "Because you really are," he says with so much certainty that you cannot even argue back. "I’m serious. Next time, make multiple trips or just text me. I’d rather help than watch you struggle like that."
There is a protective tone in his voice that makes your cheeks warm with a mix of embarrassment and something else stirring low in your stomach. He is lecturing you like a child, but somehow it sounds kind of hot coming from him.
Then he glances at the grocery bags again. Now that the scolding is over, he seems to actually pay attention to what is inside them. He picks one up and looks inside — it is full of frozen meals, instant noodles, ultra-processed food, and canned goods. "Look, I know you’re in college now, but that doesn’t mean you have to live on processed food. It’s quick, sure, but you need real fresh stuff, not just things that come out of a can. Eating like this long-term isn’t good for you. You could get sick."
You blink, caught off guard by the extra lecture. He is fully in dad-mode now, and there is something strangely attractive about how seriously he takes it, like he is genuinely worried about you. "Okay, okay. I get it… I already told you I’m a disaster in the kitchen, so I just grabbed whatever is easiest so I don’t starve."
Jay’s expression softens a little. "I’m not trying to scold you. I just know how easy it is to fall into bad habits when you’re living on your own for the first time." He pauses and adds in a gentler voice, "If you ever need help in the kitchen, you know where to find me. I’m not exactly a chef, but I know how to make real meals."
Your mind wanders again because you can’t help it — you picture him in your kitchen, standing right behind you while teaching you how to cook, his hands guiding yours, the warmth of his body against your back…
"I’ll try to do better, I swear. Thanks for helping again. I think I owe you something now. How about brownies as a thank you this time?"
Jay shakes his head, chuckling softly. "You don’t owe me anything. Just be more careful next time." He glances at the heavy bags one more time. "Need help carrying these inside?"
You shake your head quickly. "I can handle it from here. I bet you’re busy, you look like you’re heading to work."
He checks the watch on his wrist. "Yeah, I have a meeting soon, but the offer stands anytime." Before turning to leave, he gives you one last firm look. "Take care of yourself."
After he leaves, you drag the bags inside, one half first and then the other, just like Jay suggested.
That night, you are sprawled on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when you open your contacts. You saved Jay’s number, of course, but you have been telling yourself you don’t need to text him. It is an emergency-only number, but then you think about him carrying your groceries, the effortless way he took them from you, and the gentle scolding in his voice. Before you can overthink it, you are already typing a message to him.
────────
It is already past midnight and you have been staring at the same page of your textbook long enough for your vision to blur. Your brain has officially given up — it is impossible to absorb a single word more after hours of studying.
You are about to slam the book shut to take out your stress on it and drag yourself to bed when a soft knock sounds at the door. Your heart jumps slightly because you were not expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.
Another knock.
You get up slowly, stretching your sore muscles, and walk to the door. When you open it, Jay is standing there, looking different tonight without his formal work clothes and lawyer posture. He is wearing a simple white t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and is barefoot. He looks relaxed, holding a bottle of red wine — as if he made the sudden decision to knock on your door and came straight over without even putting shoes on.
"Hey," he says, his low voice making your stomach flip. His eyes scan over you, taking in your tired face, messy hair, and pajamas. Something in his expression softens.
"Hey," you reply softly, matching his tone.
"Hey," he repeats, then laughs when he realizes what he just did.
"Hey," you answer again, this time with a small smile. "You already said that."
"I know." He laughs again, shaking his head. "I just… it’s late."
"Very late."
"I know." He lifts the bottle slightly. "I bought this earlier today but… it’s no fun drinking alone."
You look at the wine, then back at him. The way he is standing there — messy hair, ridiculously handsome, and a little too soft — makes going back to bed suddenly seem like a very stupid choice. "Are you inviting me to drink with you?"
"I’m asking if you want to take a break. From everything."
The way he looks at you with those inviting eyes makes the decision easy, but you decide to tease him first. "I don’t usually drink with strangers."
"We’re not strangers," he says, his voice soft. Your teasing does not seem to faze him.
"We’re not exactly friends either," you reply, tilting your head and studying his reaction.
The corner of his mouth lifts into a small, almost lazy smile. "Then let’s change that."
You pretend to consider it for a moment, even though you were already fully committed the second you saw him at your door. "Mmm, okay. But let’s do it at your apartment. Mine is a mess."
His smile widens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Alright, whatever you want."
You grab your keys and follow him, also barefoot, to the door next to yours. His apartment is clean and organized as always, which makes the space feel strangely comforting. In the kitchen, he pours two glasses of wine and hands you one, his fingers brushing against yours for half a second and sending a spark through your body.
"Cheers," he says, raising his glass.
"Cheers," you repeat, gently clinking your glass against his.
You take a sip and let out a small, involuntary hum of appreciation — it is much better than you expected, probably the most expensive wine you have ever tasted. He gestures toward the living room. "Come on, let’s sit," he says, leading the way to the couch. You follow and settle onto his couch, trying to look more relaxed than you actually feel.
"This is nice," you say, taking another sip.
He sits on the other end of the couch — close enough to talk comfortably, but far enough to be polite. "It’s just wine." He takes a sip, watching you over the rim of his glass.
"I mean relaxing… not thinking about classes for the first time."
He nods, understanding. "You think about classes a lot."
"It’s pretty much my entire life right now," you admit with an awkward little laugh, taking another sip.
"I remember going through that too. Everything revolving around exams, assignments, and exhausting responsibilities."
You tilt your head, studying him. "You make it sound like ancient history."
"Sometimes it feels like it." He takes a sip, not breaking eye contact. "I still remember when I was in college. I used to think a bad grade would ruin everything." A dry laugh escapes him as he shakes his head. "There’s so much pressure."
Suddenly you find yourself wanting to know more about him, drawn by the experienced tone in his voice and posture. The wine is already loosening your tongue, so you ask. "How old are you, anyway?"
A small, playful smile appears on his lips. "I’m old enough."
You narrow your eyes, trying to hold back a smile. "That’s not an answer."
"It’s the only one you’re getting." He takes another sip.
"That’s annoying," you say, leaning forward slightly and resting your elbows on your knees.
"Maybe I am annoying." He shrugs, but there is a sparkle in his eyes that tells you he is enjoying this.
"You’re avoiding the question," you accuse, pointing a finger at him.
"I’m protecting my privacy."
"From what? Your neighbor?" You laugh, raising an eyebrow.
"Especially from my neighbor."
You pout, pretending to be hurt. "Fine. Keep your secrets."
"Everyone has secrets," he says, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone.
"I don’t." You are not even sure why you say it. Maybe it is the wine, or the way he is looking at you right now.
"Everyone does." He holds his ground. "You have secrets too."
Your pulse quickens. "I don’t."
"Yes, you do."
You swallow hard. The air between you feels thicker now, charged with something you can’t quite name. You shift slightly on the sofa and notice how easy it would be to reach out and touch him. "So you have a lot of secrets, huh?" you ask, curious.
"Yes. Quite a few."
"Like what?" you press, wanting to see what he will give you.
"If I told you, they wouldn’t be secrets anymore." His lips curve into a slow, almost predatory smile.
"Touché." You raise your glass in an ironic toast, making him laugh.
A comfortable but heavy silence settles between you for a moment, thick with tension as you exchange glances and take slow sips. The wine is definitely doing its job — making your words come out slower, your laughter easier, and your body warmer.
"How old are you?" he asks, breaking the silence.
You blink, caught off guard. "Me?"
"Yes, you." He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "You asked me, so I’m asking you back."
You smile, deciding to play his game. "I’m old enough."
A low, surprised laugh escapes him — rich and genuine. "That’s my line."
"I know." You take another sip to hide your smile.
"You stole my line."
You just shrug. "I borrowed it."
"That’s not how borrowing works."
"Yes, it is."
He laughs again. "You’re impossible."
"Am I? What else?" You raise an eyebrow, challenging him.
"You’re something," he says, his voice dropping again.
"What?" You are not sure what he means by that.
"I don’t know yet." He keeps his eyes fixed on you. "But I’m figuring it out."
You feel your cheeks heat up and take another sip of wine to try to hide your reaction. Jay, however, keeps watching you, and you can tell he noticed.
"You know what I’ve noticed?" By now your voice is a little slurred, so you have to be careful with the words that come out of your mouth.
"What?" His wine glass is almost empty. He sets it on the coffee table and turns all of his attention to you.
You lean back on the couch, turning to face him more directly. Your knee brushes against his thigh, but neither of you pulls away. "You don’t talk much about yourself."
He tilts his head, frowning slightly. "Don’t I?"
"No. You listen, but you don’t share. Like, you’re dodging right now. You give answers, but you don’t really answer."
"Well, I’m trying to protect myself," he says simply.
"Protect yourself from what?" You lean forward, genuinely curious now.
"From getting too attached." The words are honest, and you definitely were not expecting them.
You stare at him, your hand frozen halfway to taking another sip. "From what?"
"To you." His voice is almost a whisper, making your pulse race and your skin flush.
"Why would you get too attached to me?"
He stays silent for a moment, his eyes tracing over you as if he wants to memorize every detail. "Because it’s easy to get attached to you."
"No, it's not," you say, shaking your head as a small, incredulous laugh escapes you.
"It is." His voice is gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. "You just don’t see it."
You look away, feeling your entire body grow warmer. "You’re dodging again."
"I’m being honest." He leans forward slightly, and you can smell him now — a masculine scent mixed with the light sweetness of the wine.
You set your glass on the coffee table and turn to face him completely, the wine making you bolder. "You’re giving me half-answers. You’re telling me just enough to make me curious, but not enough."
He stays quiet for a moment, thinking. "What do you want to know?"
You hold his gaze. "Something real. Truly honest."
Silence stretches between you, thick with something heavy and suffocating that you can't quite name. Then he whispers, "I think you’re beautiful."
Your breath catches, and for a second you are not sure you heard him correctly. "That’s not—" you begin, but he interrupts you.
"It’s honest."
"You can’t just say that," your voice barely comes out as a whisper.
"I just did." His gaze doesn’t leave yours for even half a second.
"It’s too… direct."
"You asked for it." He says it simply, like it is the most natural thing in the world.
"You’re a tease," you say, not sure if you are complaining or not.
"Wait until you find out what else I am. You want to know me? Then make sure you’re ready."
You do not know what to say or what to do, so you look away, your face burning.
When he finally walks you to your door, you are a little unsteady on your feet. He steadies you with a gentle hand on your waist, and the touch is enough to send shivers through your body. "I’m fine," you murmur, even though you are swaying slightly.
"You’re drunk," he says, smiling at your messy state.
"I’m a little tipsy," you reply, giving him a blurry-eyed look.
"You’re drunk."
"It’s the same thing," you mutter dismissively.
"No, it’s not." He is looking at you with that warm, steady gaze that makes your knees feel weak.
You smile, light and tipsy. "Yes, it is."
At your door, you miss the lock twice. He laughs softly before helping you. "Thank you," you whisper. "For this, for the wine, the company, and everything."
His lips curve into a small, warm smile. "Good night, old enough.:
You smile again — you seem to always be smiling when he is around. "Good night, old man."
You step inside, close the door, and lean against it with your heart racing and your whole body warm from the wine and his words — still smiling like an idiot.
A few minutes later, you are curled up in bed when your phone buzz on the nightstand.
────────
You have been tossing and turning on the mattress for what feels like hours — shifting positions, turning to the other side, but nothing helps. You can’t fall asleep — you mind refuses to stop, racing with thoughts about exams, deadlines, and the weight of all your responsibilities pressing down on your shoulders. You need air, you need to feel like you are not suffocating in that apartment, surrounded by boxes you haven't even had the time to unpack yet. There are several unfinished notes on your desk that constantly remind you that you are not doing enough, no matter how hard you try.
So you go up to the rooftop. The cool night air hits your face and lets you breathe again.
The city is an endless sea of lights — countless tiny glowing points in the darkness that remind you how small you really are. You sit on the old bench near the edge of the roof, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them like a shield.
Your thoughts slowly begin to calm as the minutes pass, and the knot in your chest loosens just a little.
Then the door creaks open behind you.
You turn quickly, your body instantly on alert and your heart racing. And there he is — Jay. He is wearing sweatpants and a black shirt, something about this casual, almost domestic look makes your heart skip a beat. He sees you immediately and stops. Surprise flashes across his face for a second before it turns into that familiar half-smile.
"Can’t sleep either?" His voice is low, almost intimate in a way that makes you shiver.
You shake your head. "I have too much on my mind right now…"
He nods as if he completely understands — and he really does. Walking toward you, he stops at a respectful distance before sitting on the bench beside you — close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, but not so close that he invades your personal space. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all." You shift over a little even though there is already enough space.
He leans back, looking up at the sky, which is beautiful tonight with a full moon and stars shining brightly. The silence stretches between you. He doesn’t force conversation; he simply sits there observing the sky and the city with you. The silence is not awkward — it is actually comforting, especially when you are with him.
"I can’t sleep," you admit, breaking the silence with words that slip out before you can stop them. "I try, but my brain just won’t stop. Every time I close my eyes, I start thinking about all the things I have to do, all the things I haven’t done, and all the ways I’m probably going to mess everything up."
"What’s on your mind?" His voice is gentle and patient as always, showing that he is ready to listen.
"Everything." You let out a shaky sigh. "College, exams, being away from my family for the first time… It’s a lot. I thought I was ready, that I could handle it. But sometimes it feels like I’m drowning and I don’t know how to swim. Literally."
"I know how that feels," he says after a long moment of silence. His eyes stay fixed on yours, and there is something raw in them — something honest. "I remember feeling exactly like that. Like everything was too much and I was too small to handle it."
"You’re talking about yourself. That’s new," you say softly. "You always ask about me, but you never—"
"You already have enough on your plate," he cuts in gently.
You blink, caught off guard. "What?"
"You’re stressed about college, adjusting to a new city, and far from your family," he keeps his gaze steady on you, his expression sincere. "You don’t need to hear about my problems too."
"That’s not how it works." You shake your head as something warm and confusing blooms in your chest. "We’re supposed to share things. That’s what—" You pause, searching for the right word. "That’s what friends do."
"I don’t want to burden you when you’re already dealing with so much, and I certainly don’t want to make it worse."
You stay quiet for a moment, his words stirring something you cannot quite name — but it feels good. "That’s really… kind," you finally say.
"I try." He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips.
The silence settles again, and you sit together quietly for a while longer. Then, out of nowhere, he tilts his head and asks, "How’s your succulent doing?"
You laugh at the unexpected question. "You’re asking about my plant?"
"I remember you mentioned it." He turns toward you — fully turning his body — with a small playful smile on his lips. "I bet you gave it a name."
You shake your head, still smiling. "I haven’t named it yet… but it’s still alive, which is honestly impressive."
"You’re supposed to water it," he says in a gently scolding tone.
"I know." You look away, feeling a little guilty about slowly killing a plant.
"But you forget." There is no judgment in his voice, only warm amusement.
"I forget." You laugh — something you always do when you are with him. "I have a lot on my mind, okay?"
"You’re a plant killer." He smiles, making you grin even wider.
"I’m not a plant killer! I’m just… forgetful. It is surviving, which is more than I can say about myself sometimes."
Something in your words changes his expression. It is still gentle, but now there is a hint of concern. "You’re doing better than you think."
You don’t know what to say, so you just look at him, with the words stuck in your throat.
"Does the succulent at least have company?" he asks after a moment, his voice light as always.
You blink, confused by the sudden question. "What?"
"Other plants, maybe some flowers, something to keep it company. Plants get lonely too."
You laugh, shaking your head. "I don’t think it gets lonely. It’s just a plant, after all."
"All living things have feelings. It definitely feels lonely," he says with so much conviction that you almost believe him.
"That’s not scientifically accurate," you reply, not entirely sure if what you are saying is accurate either.
"I never said it was." He shrugs. "I’m a lawyer. I deal with arguments, not facts."
"They’re the same thing."
"Not at all." He shifts closer to you on the bench, making sure you are listening. "Facts are objective. Arguments are subjective. I make a living turning subjective arguments into something that sounds like objective facts."
"That’s… something. And you’re so weird."
"I’m just concerned about your plant’s loneliness." His voice is incredibly serious, showing that he is taking this very seriously.
"You’re worried about my plant," you say, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, just like I worry about you."
You don’t know what to say again — Jay has a way of leaving you speechless. Your cheeks flush and you look away. "I’ve never received flowers before, anyway…" you say softly, the secret slipping from your lips.
Jay is not sure he heard you correctly. "What did you say?"
Even though you hesitate, you repeat it, louder this time. "I’ve never received flowers." You look down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. "I had a boyfriend before, but he was an idiot. He never did anything romantic like giving me flowers or taking me for dates."
He stays silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on you while your heart pounds loudly in your ears. He is thinking about something — you can tell by the way his jaw tightens. "Would you want to go on one? With me."
You stop breathing the moment you hear his words and everything around you seems to freeze. "What?"
"A date. A real date where I pick you up, open doors for you, and take you somewhere nice. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. It can just be two people spending time together. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."
Your heart is beating so hard you are sure he can hear it, your mouth is dry, your palms are sweaty, and the words feel stuck in your throat again. Jay is asking you out on a date — a real date. The age gap has been on your mind since the day you met — he is a lawyer and you are still trying to figure out how to live on your own, but every interaction with him feels safe, like he truly sees you.
"Jay, I—" You stop, taking a shaky breath.
"You don’t have to answer right now," he says gently, giving you time to think.
"No, I—" You take another deep breath, and this time the words come out steady. "Yes. Yes, I want that."
His face transforms — a slow, warm smile spreads across his lips and reaches his eyes, making your stomach flip and your heart race just like always.
"Great," he says softly. "I’ll plan something."
A shy laugh escapes you as the reality of it sinks in. "What do you like to do on dates? I’m sure you’ve been on plenty."
He leans forward a little, resting his elbow on his knee. "I want to know what you like. That’s what matters right now, tell me your preferences so I can plan something good for you."
As you think for a moment, you suddenly feel embarrassed by how limited your preferences are. "I’m kind of picky, honestly. I like pasta, I hate anything too spicy, and I don’t like overly sweet desserts. Oh, and I’m not a big fan of seafood unless it’s fried. Is that too much?"
Jay listens attentively, nodding as if he is absorbing every detail. "Not at all. Being picky isn’t a problem, it actually makes it easier to get it right." He pauses, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. "You know, for someone who’s a disaster in the kitchen, you have very specific opinions, princess."
The nickname lands softly between you — affectionate and teasing, with a hint of warmth. Your breath catches, your face flushes instantly, and you lower your head to hide the redness in your cheeks and the smile forming on your lips.
"I… You can’t just say that," you murmur, looking at him through your lashes.
"Why not?" He is smiling even more now, clearly enjoying your reaction. "It suits you. You have high standards and you know exactly what you want, even if you pretend you don’t."
You cover your face with both hands for a second, peeking through your fingers. "You’re going to make me regret saying yes."
"Too late," he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate. "You already said yes."
You lower your hands and meet his gaze, your heart racing in the best possible way. Jay stands up suddenly and offers you his hand. "Come on, it’s getting late and you have class tomorrow. Let’s get you back inside before you freeze."
You take his hand — which is so much bigger than yours — and let him help you up. He doesn’t let go afterward, his fingers stay intertwined with yours as you walk together toward your floor. The elevator is no longer broken, but you both take the stairs anyway, wanting to prolong the moment a little longer.
Stopping at your door, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand. “I'll text you about the date,” he says softly. "We’ll pick a night that works."
You nod, still feeling a little shy about everything. "Okay… Good night, Jay."
"Good night, princess."
────────
The next day, you are more nervous than you have ever been. Every notification on your phone makes your heart skip a beat, terrified that it is Jay confirming the date. Your stomach is in knots with a mix of panic and hope, even though you want to go on this date, you are still incredibly nervous about it.
Your phone buzzes while you are in the library trying to study. "Friday at seven? I’ll take care of everything. Just be ready for a proper night out."
The words "proper night out" send a shiver through you. He is taking this seriously, treating it as something special, even though he said it didn’t have to be romantic. Still, it means something. Smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt, you text back agreeing.
When Friday finally arrives, the butterflies in your stomach refuse to calm down. In fact, they become even more restless as the time of the date gets closer. Hours before, you start getting ready — taking your time as you choose an outfit that makes you feel confident and beautiful. You spend extra time on your makeup, keeping it natural but enhancing your eyes and lips, making sure everything is perfect.
Exactly at seven, you take the elevator down. Jay had insisted on waiting outside the building instead of knocking on your door. "I want you to have the full experience," he had texted earlier, and the gesture made you smile despite your nerves. The moment you step out onto the sidewalk, you see him leaning against his sleek black car parked at the curb. He looks unfairly handsome in a tailored dark shirt and pants.
For a moment, he simply looks at you — slowly scanning from your face to your dress and back up again as his smile widens. "You look beautiful," he says, taking a step closer. "Really, truly beautiful."
Your cheeks flush quickly and a smile forms on your lips. "Thank you. You look really handsome too."
Before you can say anything else, he reaches inside the car and pulls out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. "I remembered what you said on the rooftop…"
The bouquet is perfect, wrapped so beautifully that it makes your chest tighten. "Jay…" you whisper as you reach out to take the flowers. "They’re beautiful. I don’t even know what to say."
Without thinking, you give him a grateful hug. His arms wrap around you immediately, one hand resting on your lower back while the other gently caresses the nape of your neck. "You don’t have to say anything. Just enjoy tonight. That’s all I want."
When you pull away, still smiling widely, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and asks, "Ready to go, princess?"
You nod, holding the flowers like a lifeline. He opens the car door for you, waiting until you are settled before closing it gently. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he looks at you with a playful smile. "Seatbelt, please. Safety first."
You laugh and buckle up. "Such a gentleman."
"Only for you."
The drive starts peacefully, soft music playing in the background as you talk. He asks about your day and teases you lightly when you admit that you spent half of your class daydreaming about tonight and that it took you forever to choose what to wear.
You can’t stop stealing glances at him — the way his hands rest easily on the steering wheel, those large hands with long fingers, and the way he looks at you at red lights as if making sure you are still real.
After a few minutes, you notice the city lights fading and buildings giving way to trees. "Where are we going?" you ask curiously, realizing he has been driving for a while — much farther than you expected. "This is pretty far from our building. Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"
Jay laughs, keeping his eyes on the road. "I’m not going to kill you. I’m just taking you to a place I love, and I think you’ll love it too."
The drive takes about thirty minutes, but when you finally arrive, the restaurant leaves you breathless. You immediately understand why he chose it — it is cozy and elegant, with a stunning view of the city. He reserved a intimate corner table with the perfect view.
He pulls out the chair for you, and as soon as you sit down, he leans in slightly to whisper in your ear, "Relax, okay?"
The dinner unfolds perfectly. You order pasta — creamy, exactly the way you like it — and he chooses a steak dish, offering you a bite from his fork with a raised eyebrow that feels far more intimate than it should. You talk a lot, and he listens as always, head tilted and eyes focused only on you.
You tell him about the friendships you are making in college, about the strange noise your AC is making, and absentmindedly mention the doorman. "He’s nice, I think… but sometimes he looks at me like he knows something I don’t."
Jay’s expression shifts with something unreadable for half a second, but he quickly covers it with a soft chuckle. "He’s probably just in a bad mood. Or maybe he sees how much you’re distracting your poor neighbor."
You laugh. "Poor neighbor? You seem to be handling it pretty well."
His foot brushes against yours under the table. "Barely."
In the middle of the conversation, Jay’s phone buzzes on the table. He glances at it, frowns, and silences it, slipping it into his pocket.
But a few minutes later, it buzzed again. Jay sighs. "I need to take this. It’s probably an emergency with a client. I won’t be long. I’m really sorry."
"Go ahead. I’ll be here judging the dessert menu."
He leans in and gives you a quick kiss on your temple before standing up. "I’ll be right back, princess."
The casual display of affection makes your heart race as you watch him walk away. While he is gone, you take a sip of your wine, observe the people around you, and study the dessert menu.
He returns after about five minutes, sliding back into his seat with an apologetic smile. "All sorted. Where were we?"
When the check arrives, Jay pays without hesitation, even though you offered to split it. Outside, the night air is cold, so he drapes his jacket over your shoulders when he notices you shivering. Then he pulls you closer for a moment, wrapping his arms around you. "Thank you for saying yes," he murmurs against your hair.
You look up at him, smiling. "That was the best decision I’ve made in a long time."
The drive back feels shorter than the trip there, unfortunately — you wish this moment could last forever. Jay keeps one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles that send shivers down your spine. You arrive at the building sooner than you would like, but instead of stopping at the curb, Jay drives into the underground garage.
You unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thank you, Jay. For everything, the flowers, the dinner, the evening… I had a really great time."
He turns to you, that slow smile playing on his lips. "I’m glad, princess."
You reach for the door handle, but his hand moves quickly, wrapping around your wrist and stopping you. Your breath catches at the unexpected contact. "Wait, aren’t you going to thank me properly?"
You blink, confused. "I just did? The hug outside the restaurant and just now."
Jay chuckles, and his gaze shifts into something hungrier. "That was sweet, but I was thinking of something a little more fitting for the end of a perfect night."
Without overthinking it, you lean across the console and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," you whisper again, pulling back to see his reaction.
His smile widens. "Still not enough, princess. Come here."
He cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer. The kiss starts soft, his lips meeting yours hesitantly, and you quickly melt into it, which makes him deepen the kiss while still keeping a slow, deliberate pace. His tongue traces your lower lip, and you part for him with a small sigh.
What begins as one kiss turns into many, you lose count as they grow more intense, hungry, and urgent.
Somehow, you end up climbing over the console. His hands guide your hips until you are straddling his lap in the driver’s seat. The space is tight and the steering wheel presses against your back, but you couldn't care less right now. His hands roam along your sides, sliding up your dress until they rest on your thighs, his thumbs drawing circles that make you whimper against his mouth.
You kiss him again and again, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging gently, which draws a low groan from him. That only encourages you — hips start moving on their own, pressing against the growing hardness beneath you. The friction makes you gasp, and Jay clearly loves the sight — he squeezes your thighs, encouraging your movements.
"God, you’re incredible," he whispers against your mouth between kisses. "So responsive… so perfect."
Jay pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, breathing hard. "You deserve better than this, princess. Our first time shouldn’t be in a car like a couple of impatient teenagers."
You kiss him again, more intensely, nipping at his lower lip. "I don’t care, I want you right here."
He groans, sliding his hand into your hair to pull you into another hungry kiss. "You’re so eager, princess… and so perfect grinding against me like this."
His mouth moves down to your neck, sucking lightly and drawing more whimpers from you. Your movements become restless, rubbing harder, chasing friction. "Jay…" you whisper between kisses. "I need you, please."
His hands find the hem of your dress, slowly pulling it up inch by inch with clear appreciation until he discards it onto the passenger seat. "Beautiful," he murmurs reverently as he stares at your tits. "So beautiful." He leans down, pressing hot, wet kisses along the soft skin, then his tongue circles one nipple before sucking it deeply into his mouth.
You arch your back, a moan escaping your lips. He gives the same attention to the other tit, licking, sucking, and grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth while his hand massages and caresses the first. “You taste so good,” he praises, his voice muffled. "These perfect tits in my mouth… you’re already trembling. So sensitive for me."
He kisses lower, along your sternum and ribs, then back up — worshipping every inch of you while you keep grinding against him. Your panties are soaked, and the friction against his hardness only turns you on more.
He waits until you’re trembling in his lap before he finally moves. Reaching between you, he lowers his pants and boxers just enough to free himself, and when he does, your eyes widen. He is big — thick and hard. The sight makes your mouth water and heat pool low in your belly.
Jay reaches into the glove compartment, fumbling for a condom. He tears it open and rolls it down his length with surprising skill while you watch, hypnotized and a little intimidated by his size and thickness. "You’re… really big," you say softly.
Jay notices your nervousness and caresses your cheek, trying to soothe you. "We’ll go slow, princess. I’ve got you. My good girl can take it."
He helps you shift your panties to the side, guiding you as you sink down onto him. The stretch is intense but delicious — you take him inch by inch, breathing deeply as he fills you completely, murmuring praises nonstop. "That’s it, princess… so tight, so good for me… so fucking perfect around me."
You bury your face in his neck as you sink all the way down, taking him completely until your ass is pressed firmly against his lap. "Oh God… you’re so, so big," you moan, still adjusting to the intense stretch.
The age difference flashes through your mind — he is older, more experienced, probably used to women who knew exactly what they were doing. You want to be good for him, so once you feel ready, you start moving — bouncing with almost frantic energy, desperate to please him. Your hips move and grind fast, determined.
"Easy, princess," Jay groans, gripping your hips to slow you down. "Slow… just like that. You feel incredible, but there’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere."
You moan, your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. "I just… you’ve probably been with so many others who were better at this. I want to make it good for you. I want to be the best—"
He cuts you off with a deep kiss, then pulls back to look into your eyes while still guiding your movements into a slower, deeper rhythm. "Hey, none of that. It’s just you right now, and you’re already the best, baby. Look at how perfectly you take me." He thrusts up gently to emphasize his words, drawing a moan from you. "You’re my princess."
You relax into his words and the rhythm he sets, moving your hips in deep, grinding motions instead of frantic bouncing. It feels even better this way — his thickness brushing against every sensitive spot inside you. "Like this?" you ask breathlessly, your voice shy but needy.
"Just like that," he praises, his voice rough. "So good for me. So wet… so tight. You’re perfect, listen to those pretty sounds you make."
You keep whispering to him the whole time — shy confessions and soft, breathless questions. "You feel so good, Jay… I feel so full. Does it feel good for you? Tell me if you’re enjoying it."
He groans, his hands roaming over your back, squeezing your ass, then returning to your tits so he can lick and suck them while you ride him. "I love it. I love everything you do. The way you squeeze me… the way you say my name. You’re ruining me, princess."
The pleasure builds uncontrollably, intense and overwhelming, leaving both of you sweaty and breathless. He slides a hand between you to your clit, circling it with his thumb in time with your movements. You tremble hard, moaning and gasping, telling him how close you are, how good he feels, and how much you have wanted this since the day you moved in.
When you come, your walls pulse tightly around his thickness and your body shakes as you cry out his name. Jay follows right after, holding you firmly against him as he finishes into the condom with a deep groan, murmuring endless praises. "That’s it, come for me… so beautiful giving yourself to me completely… my perfect girl."
You collapse against his chest, both of you breathing hard. He wraps his arms around you tightly, kissing your temple while his hands gently caress your back. "You okay?" he whispers after a while. "Was it too much?"
"It was perfect," you murmur, nuzzling into his neck. "Better than I imagined. Thank you for slowing me down when I got too excited. I probably embarrassed myself, right?"
He shakes his head lightly and laughs, then he gives you one last kiss on your temple and helps you climb back into the passenger seat, watching as you slip your dress back on. "Don’t forget these," he says, reaching for the bouquet.
You take it with a happy smile. "I wouldn’t dare."
He walks around the car to open your door and intertwines his fingers with yours as you walk toward the elevator. Once inside, he pulls you close and kisses you the entire way up to your floor.
"Your place tonight?" you ask against his lips.
Jay’s hand slides to your lower back, pulling you even closer. "Yes, because I’m not done with you yet. I need you in my bed. The thought of you in my sheets, smelling like me when you wake up… it drives me crazy."
The elevator doors open and he pulls you down the hallway toward his door, unlocking it effortlessly. The moment you are both inside, he takes the flowers from your hand, sets them on the counter, and turns to you with hungry eyes. "Come here," he growls, pulling you into a deep, desperate kiss. His hands cup your face first, then slide down your body. "Let me take care of you properly this time."
He leads you to the bedroom and there, he undresses you slowly, admiring and kissing every inch of exposed skin. When you are completely naked, he steps back and looks at you with pure admiration and desire. "Fuck, look at you… so perfect. Every curve, every inch… all mine tonight."
He removes his own clothes and guides you onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. His warm palms caress them, spreading you open even more. His mouth is on you immediately, licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit before circling the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, savoring you. "Mmm, already so wet," the vibration of his voice makes you gasp. "You taste so sweet, princess. Like you were made for my mouth."
You let out a shaky moan, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer. "Jay… that feels incredible. Oh God—"
He slides a finger inside you, curling it against that sweet spot while his mouth continues sucking and licking. The suction around your clit, the rhythm of his finger stroking that perfect spot deep inside — it all turns the pleasure into something deliciously overwhelming. He adds a second finger, then a third, carefully stretching you as he pumps them in and out.
Your hips move against his face as the pleasure intensifies. "Don’t stop… please, Jay, just like that," you moan, your voice breathless and desperate. He eats you out like a starving man — licking, sucking, and thrusting his fingers into you until your thighs shake around his head and you fall apart with a long, loud cry. You clench and pulse around his fingers as the orgasm crashes through you.
Jay doesn’t stop right away, he keeps licking and fingering you through it, prolonging every sensation until you are limp and panting. Only then he drags his mouth up your body, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, between your breasts, and up your neck. "You taste like heaven," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I could do this all night, make you come on my tongue until you go stupid."
He grabs a condom from the nightstand and rolls it on quickly over his hard, leaking cock. You reach down, wrapping your hand around his thick, hard length — stroking him slowly, feeling the weight, the pulsing heat, tracing the veins with curiosity. "I want it raw, Jay… I need to feel you, please."
He groans deeply, his hips pushing forward into your fist. "Baby… protection first, remember? I’ll still make you feel good even with the latex between us, I promise." After kissing your forehead, he positions himself at your entrance and pushes in inch by inch, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. You feel a burning stretch as your walls slowly give way to him, every thick pulsing vein dragging against your sensitive insides. When he’s halfway in, you look down between your bodies and see the clear bulge pressing out against your lower belly.
He notices it right after and quickly slides a hand down to press against the bulge, feeling it move under his palm as he sinks deeper. "Fuck, look at that. You see how deep I am? My cock is rearranging your insides, princess. Stretching this tight pussy so you can see it from the outside."
Your hand joins his, pressing against the visible outline, feeling him move inside you from both the inside and the outside. He teases you mercilessly, thrusting slow and deep so the bulge shifts under your combined touch. "You’re taking me so well, like this pussy was made for my cock. So greedy, swallowing every inch."
He sinks the rest of the way in with a guttural groan, bottoming out completely. "Shit… so tight, so hot. You’re already milking me."
His thick cock fills you so completely that every movement presses against sensitive spots that steal the breath from your lungs. His thrusts start controlled and incredibly gentle instead of brutal force. One hand stays intertwined with yours above your head, while the other caresses your cheek, squeezes your breast, and lightly pinches your nipple before soothing it with his thumb. "You look like pure sin wrapped around me… My beautiful princess, creaming all over my cock, taking every inch like a good girl. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else."
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Jay… it feels so good. You’re so deep, I can feel you everywhere." He leans down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss as his hips move faster in a devastating rhythm that pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
You come hard around him, your walls fluttering and clenching tightly as you cry out. He does not stop, thrusting deep and steady, prolonging your orgasm until you are shaking. "Fuck, that’s it, come on my cock, baby."
Jay follows right after, burying himself as deep as possible with a long, broken groan of your name as he cums, pulsing inside you. He stays buried deep for long moments afterwards, holding you close and covering your face, neck, and shoulders with soft kisses until both of your breathing steadies.
Eventually, he pulls out carefully, discards the condom, and returns from the bathroom with a warm, damp cloth. He cleans you both gently, murmuring more praises the entire time. "You were perfect, princess. So responsive, so beautiful when you come for me." He pulls the sheets over both of you and wraps you in his arms.
Your head rests on Jay’s chest while his fingers trace a lazy path along your spine, down to the curve of your waist. Without a word, you shift, turning onto your side. Jay follows naturally, molding his body against yours from behind in a perfect spoon. His chest presses against your back as he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. You can already feel him half-hard again against the curve of your ass, sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.
He nuzzles into the back of your neck, placing soft kisses there. "You okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and rough in the quiet room.
"More than okay," you whisper back, pressing lightly against him. "I like feeling you close like this."
Jay reaches for another condom from the nightstand. You hear the faint rustle as he puts it on, then his hand returns to your body, tenderly caressing your side and hip. He lifts your top leg slightly, hooking it over his, opening you up for him. The thick head of his cock brushes against your entrance before he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, until he is buried completely inside you.
"So good," he whispers against your neck, sliding a hand up to caress your breast. His fingers massage gently, his thumb circling your nipple until it hardens under his touch.
He starts moving — slow, deep rolls of his hips, thrusting unhurriedly so you can feel every inch of his thick cock dragging against your walls. While he fucks you, his hand on your breast never stops worshipping it — squeezing, rolling your nipple between his fingers, occasionally pinching lightly before soothing it with gentle caresses. And his mouth keeps placing open-mouthed kisses along the back of your neck, back, and shoulder.
You reach behind you, running your fingers through his hair as you move with him. "Jay… deeper like that feels so good."
His thrusts become a little deeper, but still controlled. "You take me so well every single time. Look at how perfectly you fit around me. I could stay inside you forever." His mouth finds the sensitive spot on your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark while he continues playing with your breasts — pinching, rolling, and caressing until your nipples are deliciously sore. Only then he slid his hand down to your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. The combination of sensations is overwhelming and pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "You’re so close… I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me again, princess."
And you do. Your walls contract rhythmically around his thickness as you moan his name, your body trembling in his arms. Jay follows right after you, burying his face in your neck with a deep groan as he comes, filling the condom.
You turn your head slightly to capture his lips in a lazy kiss. "I feel so safe with you," you whisper. "And so wanted."
He stays inside you until the aftershocks fade, then carefully pulls out, discards the condom, and cleans you both once again with gentle care. He pulls the sheets up around you both and draws you back into his arms, spooning you again.
Jay’s hand rests tenderly on your stomach, tracing small circles there. You feel deeply in love and completely at peace as you start to drift off to sleep, safe in his arms.
Sunlight is already filtering through the curtains by the time you slowly wake up the next morning —.only to realize the space beside you is empty, even though the warmth of Jay’s body and the faint scent of his cologne still linger around. You stretch and sit up to look around the room, noticing one of his shirts draped over the back of a chair. Slipping it on, you pad barefoot out of the bedroom toward the kitchen, drawn by the rich aroma of coffee and food already filling the air.
Jay is at the stove, flipping eggs while a plate of toast and cut fruit waits for you on the counter. You walk up to him and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back. "Good morning."
He turns off the stove and turns around, settling his hands on your hips. His gaze softens instantly when he sees you wearing his shirt. "Good morning, princess. You look way too good in my clothes."
You laugh softly and tilt your face up, expecting a kiss. He leans in but pauses with a playful look. "Ah, but you haven’t brushed your teeth yet. No good-morning kisses until after breakfast."
You pout and dramatically pull away. "Not even a kiss on the cheek? You’re so cruel."
With a sigh, he gives in — pressing a long kiss to your cheek, then another to your forehead. Before you can say anything, he effortlessly lifts you and sits you on the edge of the kitchen counter, standing between your knees. "There. Now I can look at you properly while I finish this."
As he moves around the kitchen, your eyes wander until they stop on the refrigerator. Something catches your attention — photos are held up by magnets, but one in particular stands out: a Polaroid of Jay smiling with his arm around a woman’s shoulders. You hadn't noticed it on your previous visits to the kitchen — you had been too focused on him. "Who is that?" you ask curiously, nodding toward the fridge. "The woman in the photo with you?"
Jay glances over while sliding a plate toward you. "That’s my sister. We don’t look much alike, I know. We’re actually half-siblings."
You tilt your head, studying the photo for another second. They really do not look very similar, but that is not unusual for half-siblings. "She looks nice," you say lightly, accepting the plate he offers. "Breakfast looks delicious, by the way. You really didn’t have to."
"I wanted to," he replies, stepping between your knees and stealing a quick peck. "After last night, it feels right to take care of you this morning… and maybe every other morning too."
You smile shyly. "Speaking of last night… it was incredible. You made everything feel so good, so right. I keep replaying every part of it in my head."
He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "You were perfect, baby. I loved every second of it." He leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth. "You’re so beautiful when you let go for me."
"You’re going to make it really hard for me to focus in class today." You take a bite of the toast, savoring it. "Oh, by the way, I’m going out with some new friends from college tonight. They invited me to a party, it’s a chance to get to know each other better outside of class."
Jay nods, resting a hand on your thigh and stroking it lightly. "Sounds fun. Just be careful, okay? Text me when you get there and when you’re heading back."
"I will," you say, stealing another quick kiss from him. "I won’t stay out too late anyway. I have an early class tomorrow."
He picks up a piece of fruit from the plate and brings it to your mouth, brushing his fingers teasingly against your lips. "You deserve to have fun… I’ll be here if you need anything when you get back."
You stumble out of your friend’s car a little after 1 a.m., waving goodbye as you sway on your feet. You make your way toward the building entrance and suddenly remember that you promised to text Jay — which you didn’t. So you call him to let him know you arrived and are heading up. In response, he says he is waiting for you.
When you reach the third floor, Jay’s door is already open and he is waiting for you. "Heyyy," you say cheerfully, immediately wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. "I’m back. Just like I promised."
Laughing Jay’s arms wrap around you automatically as he looks at you more closely. "You’re pretty drunk, princess. How was the party?"
"So much fun," you ramble, clinging to him tighter as he guides you inside and closes the door. "We danced, there was a shot game, and my new friends are so funny. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt." You tilt your head up, puckering your lips. "Kiss?"
Instead of a proper kiss, he gives you a quick one on your forehead. "You smell like a distillery and your shirt is soaked, what happened?"
You look down at the sticky stain on your shirt and pout. "Someone spilled on me. It’s gross. But I still want kisses, real kisses." You try to pull his face down, standing on your tiptoes. "I missed you all night. I kept thinking about you during the party… about how nice you were last night. We should do that again right now."
Jay gently holds your wrists to stop you. "Not tonight, princess. You’re drunk."
"But I want you," you beg, pressing closer, but he doesn’t give in at all. "You’re so hot, so gentle, and… big. Please?"
He shakes his head and guides you toward the bathroom. "No. Only when you’re sober and can remember everything clearly. Right now, I’m just taking care of you, okay?"
"Let’s get you cleaned up," he says gently once you reach the bathroom. Reaching for the hem of your wet shirt he carefully pulls it off, followed by the rest of your clothes.
"You’re always so gentle with me," you murmur, watching him adjust the shower temperature. "No one has ever been this gentle. I really, really like you, Jay."
He smiles softly and helps you into the shower, joining you still fully dressed so he can take care of you. Jay keeps one hand on your waist to steady you while the other runs soapy over your shoulders and arms.
The alcohol in your system makes your emotions spill out easily before you can stop them. "I think… I think I’m falling for you," you confess, your tongue loose, making your cheeks flush. "Is that crazy? It feels too fast. I know I’m younger and still figuring everything out, but being with you just feels right. You make me feel safe, wanted, and special."
Jay pauses for half a second, processing what he just heard, but then continues washing you carefully — lathering the floral-scented body wash over your skin. "This smells like… girl stuff," you say, a little curious. "Is it yours?"
He looks away for a moment before answering. "It’s my mom’s. She left some things here the last time she came to visit."
"Ah," You rest your forehead against his chest as the water runs over both of you. "I meant it, though. About falling for you. Even if it’s too soon… I can’t help it."
Jay wraps his arms fully around you under the spray of water, holding you close — voice is full of affection when he finally replies. "Hey… look at me, princess." He gently lifts your chin. "What you’re feeling… I feel it too." Softly, he kisses your forehead, then the tip of your nose. "We don’t need to rush or label anything right now. Just know that I’m here and I care about you a lot."
Even in your alcohol-fueled haze, his words calm the part of you that was worried you were moving too fast. "Really? You feel it too?"
"I do." He continues washing you carefully — your arms, your back, your sides — just taking care of you. "Being with you is easy. Natural. So let’s just enjoy it, okay? One day at a time."
Jay finishes rinsing you off and helps you out of the shower. Wrapping you in a towel he dries you gently before dressing you in one of his shirts. By the time he guides you to bed, you are already sleepy. He helps you lie down and you snuggle into the sheets, murmuring one last "I really like you" before falling asleep.
────────
The following days feel almost too good to be real.
You wake up in Jay’s bed, wrapped in his arms and wearing one of his shirts. He always wakes up before you to make breakfast and greet you with a good morning kiss and that smile that still makes your heart flutter. But on some mornings, you pull him back into bed to cuddle before classes and work, and without any argument, he makes time to make you feel loved.
When you get home from class, tired, Jay is already there to greet you cheerfully despite his own exhaustion. He texts you during the day, asking how your classes are going and reminding you to eat. When you are together, he pulls you in for slow, affectionate kisses — the kind that make your legs weak. Some nights you cook together as he tries to teach you how to make proper meals. Other nights he orders takeout and you eat on the couch while you tell him every detail of your day. He still doesn’t share much about himself, always dodging the subject, but you do not push — you don’t want to be invasive.
The sex is frequent — sometimes slow and worshipful, his mouth and hands adoring every inch of you until you are trembling and coming apart. Other times it is faster and more urgent — against the kitchen counter, in the shower, on the couch, in his home office. One night you try baking cookies together, ending up covered in flour and laughing as he kisses the mess off your cheek. Another night you start watching a movie cuddled together, but the movie is forgotten halfway through when clothes come off and he fucks you right there on the couch.
Suddenly everything feels so domestic — he now keeps an extra toothbrush for you, your notebooks are on his coffee table, and some of your clothes are scattered around his apartment. It is undeniable that you are falling deeper and deeper in love.
On a Sunday afternoon, you are studying on his couch while Jay is in his home office, working on a complicated case that demands his full attention. After hours buried in books and notes, concentrating is almost impossible. At this point, your mind keeps wandering to him without permission. When your brain finally gives up, you close the book with a dramatic sigh.
You walk down the hallway and peek into his office. Jay is sitting at his desk with his sleeves rolled up, looking unfairly attractive as he concentrates on reviewing some papers. "Jay?" you call, walking in without waiting for an answer.
He looks up, and the moment his eyes meet yours, the tension in his shoulders softens. "Hey, princess. How are the studies going?"
Boring." You take a few steps closer and don’t ask for permission — you simply climb into his lap, settling on his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a trail of kisses along his jaw, then his cheek and lips. "I missed you. Pay attention to me? Just for a little while?"
One of his hands rests on your waist while the other continues organizing the documents. "I’d love to, baby, but this case is a nightmare. There are documents everywhere. I’m going crazy with these."
You nuzzle into the curve of his neck and kiss him there. "You’ve been in here for hours… you deserve a break." Your hips move subtly against him, restless, the friction sending a spark through both of you. You feel him twitch beneath you, already starting to respond to your movements.
Jay’s grip on your waist tightens. "Princess…" There is a warning tone in his voice, bordering on frustration. But as you grind against him, you can feel him beginning to harden, and that gives you hope — you think he might give in.
"You’re really testing me today." He pulls you into a kiss, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. When he pulls away, it is with a frustrated sigh.
"That's the point," you whisper, smiling proudly against his lips as you continue grinding, slower this time, feeling him get even harder.
Jay curses under his breath, gripping your hips more firmly. No matter how hard he tries to hold back, he can’t, the desire is uncontrollable. He reaches between you and unzips his pants. "Fine, but you’re going to behave." He frees his hard, throbbing cock and pulls your panties and shorts to the side. This time there is nothing between you — no latex barrier, just him.
You sink down onto him slowly, and the new sensation hits you immediately — it’s different, hotter, more intimate. Every ridge and vein is raw against your walls, the skin-to-skin contact sends a shiver through your entire body and makes you moan as you settle fully onto him. The stretch feels deeper and more overwhelming than ever.
For a moment, it feels perfect — connected, raw.
But then his hands close firmly on your hips, holding you completely still. "Don’t move," he commands, his voice noticeably deeper and rougher. "Stay just like this. No grinding, no whimpering. I’m serious."
His cock pulses hot and heavy inside you, and you can barely focus on what he said. "Jay… oh my God, you feel—"
"I said don’t move," he interrupts, repeating it more harshly this time. His free hand returns to the stack of papers while the other arm stays wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place.
At first, you try to obey — resting your head on his shoulder and breathing deeply every time his cock twitches inside you, but the longer you sit there, the harder it becomes. You let out a soft moan as your hips twitch involuntarily. "Jay… please, just let me move a little bit."
"I told you not to move. Jesus, you’re really pushing it today." The irritation is clear in every word now, and his grip on your waist tightens even more. "I have a deadline. I can’t afford to get distracted like this."
Again, you try to stay still — you really do, until frustrated tears prick at your eyes — but your body betrays you with small, involuntary movements of your hips. "I’m sorry… I can’t help it. This is driving me crazy. I need you to move, please."
Jay’s jaw is tense and his breathing comes in heavy bursts — clearly fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You think I don’t want to? You’re so tight and wet around me right now, but I can’t. I have work to do and you’re not letting me focus." His tone grows even harsher. "Stop squirming. Be a good girl for me and just sit there.”
But you do not listen — you roll your hips again, letting out a moan as he rubs against that sensitive spot inside you. "Jesus Christ. I told you I have work and this is fucking important."
"But I missed you and this is torture. Please, please just fu-"
He cuts you off sharply. "You always miss me, always need something. Kisses, hugs, my cock, my fucking attention. You practically live here now, your things are all over my apartment, you sleep in my bed like it’s yours. Isn’t that enough attention? You know what? I need you to get off so I can actually finish this case."
The words hurt, making your chest tighten — tears of frustration turn into something heavier and spill down your cheeks. "I didn’t mean to be annoying… I just wanted to be close to you."
"Yeah, well, wanting to be close to me doesn’t magically make my deadline disappear. I’m already behind because of distractions like this." His hand on your hip tightens even more, holding you completely still, the pressure bordering on uncomfortable. "You have your own apartment right next door. Just give me a few hours alone, for once."
You stare at him in disbelief at what you just heard. Suddenly the intimate position feels humiliating — the way you are still stretched around him while he looks at you like you are nothing but am annoyance. "You want me to leave? Like this… right now"
"I’m telling you to give me some space." With no patience left, he lifts you off him, leaving you empty and trembling. "Go to your place, take a nap, study, whatever. Just let me work."
You stand there with shaky legs, wiping away your tears, feeling small, vulnerable, and unwanted. With a quiet, trembling breath, you whisper, "…Okay."
It's past 9 PM when Jay finally steps out of his office, having finished dealing with that pile of papers. The silence hangs heavy now, normally you would be humming, curled up on the couch waiting for him, or laughing at something silly on your phone. Without you, the space feels too empty. He had been rude — way too rude — and he sees that now. He owes you an apology, so he walks over to your door, but just as he is about to knock, he notices the door is not fully closed — it’s slightly ajar, allowing him to hear low murmurs of voices.
Frowning, he pushes the door open a little more and steps inside, finding a guy standing right at the entrance to your living room, putting on a jacket. The guy turns at the sound of the door, his expression quickly shifting to surprise. "Ah, hi. You must be Jay. She talks about you a lot."
He looks over the other guy’s shoulder toward the couch where you are sitting with your knees pulled up. The guy cleans his throat, sensing the tension between the two of you. "I was just leaving… It was really nice talking to you." He gives you a small wave. "Text me if you need anything else, okay?"
You smile and wave back. "Yeah. Thanks, Jake. Drive safe."
As Jake heads for the door, Jay blocks his path. "Wait. What exactly were you doing here?"
Jake blinks, surprised by the sudden question. "She seemed pretty down when we texted, so I decided to stop by and check if she was okay. Anyway, I’m heading out. Nice to meet you, man."
He steps aside, letting Jake pass. The door closes behind him, leaving just the two of you in the suddenly too-quiet apartment.
You stand up, hugging yourself. "Jay… what are you doing here?"
The regret he felt for being so harsh with you is quickly replaced by jealousy and irritation. "I came because my place was too quiet without you. I started thinking maybe I was too hard on you earlier, but clearly you didn’t waste any time finding company."
You frown, confused by what he means. "He’s just a friend. I told you about him before, we met during my first week on campus when I accidentally walked into the wrong lecture hall. I was upset after you basically kicked me out, so I texted him. We weren’t doing anything, just talking."
Jay lets out a short, bitter laugh and steps closer. "Talking late at night like it’s a casual visit. You mentioned him before, of course, but I didn’t know you two were close enough for house calls."
The hurt from earlier mixes with frustration now. "You were so rude, Jay. You made me feel like I was an annoying pest who can’t function without your attention. I understand you’re stressed with work, but you didn’t have to push me away and kick me out like that. I felt embarrassed."
He closes even more of the distance between you, standing close enough that you can feel the jealousy radiating off him. "You’re the one who can’t sit still for five minutes without demanding something, climbing into my lap while I’m trying to meet a deadline, whimpering and squirming like a spoiled brat because you ‘missed me’."
You take a step back, but the couch hits the back of your legs. "I just wanted to be close to you."
"But the world doesn’t revolve around your need for attention. I love having you around, but today? You made it impossible for me to concentrate, and the second I ask for a few hours to actually get things done, you run straight to this Jake guy?" Jay doesn’t care that nothing happened — the image of another guy in your space, late at night, while you were upset, makes his blood boil.
"I didn’t run to him! I was crying when he got here and he just listened. Unlike you, who basically told me to leave because I’m too much."
Jay’s laugh is harsh this time, completely humorless. "Too much. Yeah, that’s one way of saying you’re a spoiled brat who demands attention every second, and the moment things get difficult, you replace me with whoever is most convenient."
Neither of you speaks for a long moment. You look away, Jay’s jaw clenches, and soon his gaze drifts from your face to the way you are hugging yourself, then lower, lingering on your bare legs. The jealousy is still burning in his chest, mixed with the memory of you sitting on his cock earlier, demanding attention, all needy.
"Come here," he says, nodding toward the couch.
You hesitate, biting your lip, which makes Jay exhale sharply and close the distance. His hand wraps around your wrist, guiding you toward the couch. "We’re not done talking about this."
He sits on the couch and pulls you closer until you are lying across his lap, your stomach pressed against his thighs. Your shirt has ridden up naturally, but he is not satisfied. "This is in the way." His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them down and tossing them aside — leaving your ass completely bare for him.
Jay’s palm rests on one of your cheeks, squeezing the flesh possessively. "You’ve been pushing all day… needing attention, teasing me, and then Jake shows up at your place, and I’m supposed to just swallow that?" His fingers dig harder into the flesh. "You’re mine, and it’s time you learn what happens when you piss me off this much."
His hand makes slow circles over your skin, almost soothing. "How many spanks do you think you deserve for acting like this?"
Your heart races as you try to process his words — head turning slightly to look at him. "What? Are you serious?"
He meets your eyes with a firm, dark expression — one you have never seen from him before. "Very serious. You’ve been spoiled all day, teasing me on purpose. So tell me, how many do you think you deserve?"
You swallow hard, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I don’t know… Five? Maybe?"
Jay lets out a mocking laugh. "Five? That’s way too low, baby. You’re going to take twenty, and you’re going to count each one out loud. If you lose count or mess up, we start over. Understood?"
You hesitate but eventually whisper, "Yes… okay."
"Good girl." His hand lifts and the first spank comes without warning — firm and sharp, the sound echoing through the silence. You jolt, a surprised moan escaping you — heat spreads instantly across your bare skin, the sting stronger than you expected.
"One," you gasp.
He immediately rubs the spot in slow, soothing circles, calming the hot skin where he struck.
"Two," you say after the next spank lands on the other cheek.
Jay keeps a steady rhythm — delivering hard spanks followed by almost tender caresses. Then his fingers slide lower, tracing your wet folds, spreading them teasingly, brushing against your entrance, lightly circling your clit before pulling away.
"What a spoiled little brat," he murmurs during one of the pauses, rubbing your reddened cheeks while two fingers tease your slit again. "You’re already getting so wet… You like this, don’t you?"
You moan instead of answering, which earns you another sharp spank. "Five."
He continues, the spanks leaving marks and building heat across your ass. Now his fingers are dip inside you, moving with slow, shallow thrusts, curling just enough to brush that sensitive spot and make you clench around him desperately. But he always pulls back before you can get close to the edge.
"Six… seven… ah!"
By ten, tears prick your eyes, your thighs trembling as the sting turns into a pulsing heat.
Jay pauses longer this time, massaging your sore ass and spreading your cheeks so he can tease your entrance again. "You’re mine. When you need attention that badly, you come to me, even if I’m stressed, even if I tell you to leave." A finger pushes deep inside you, staying there while his thumb brushes your clit.
You lose track amid the overwhelming sensations and he makes you start over, just as he warned. "Back to one." During the restart, two more fingers slide inside you, moving in a torturous rhythm. "You feel how wet you are? This is what happens when you forget who you belong to."
"You’re mine. Your time, your attention, this body. I don’t share it." Spank. Soothe. Tease. "Say it."
"I’m yours," you moan.
"Louder." Another spank.
"I’m yours, Jay!"
When he finally reaches twenty, you are a trembling mess with tears streaming down your face. Jay finally pulls you up and turns you so you are sitting in his lap. His hands stay on your ass, carefully massaging the sore flesh and you press yourself against the hard bulge in his pants, burying your face in his shoulder. "You did so well, my good girl."
Jay lifts your chin, meeting your eyes. For a moment, he just looks at you — really looks at you — taking in your flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. Then he leans in and kisses you. One hand remains on your sore ass, squeezing gently, while the other slides into your hair. He kisses you like he needs to claim every part of you — hungry, insistent, his tongue tracing your lower lip before sliding inside. You melt into him, moaning against his mouth as you start slowly grinding your hips.
He pulls back just enough to trail his mouth along your jaw, nipping at the sensitive spot below your ear. "Still so needy… even after all that." Then he kisses you again, deeper and hungrier, tongues sliding together with fervor. The hand on your ass slips between your bodies to tease your wet folds with light circles and shallow dips — keeping you right on the edge.
When he pulls away, a thin string of saliva connects you for a second before breaking. "On your knees, princess."
Obediently, you slide off his lap and kneel between his spread thighs. Jay looks down at you, one hand lazily stroking your hair as he frees himself from his pants — his cock springs out, thick, heavy, and already leaking at the tip.
"Open. Tongue out," he says, tapping your lower lip with two fingers. You open your mouth and obediently stick your tongue out. He leans forward and spits directly into your mouth. The warm, viscous saliva lands on your tongue, degrading in a way that makes you shiver. "Swallow that first," he instructs. You swallow while keeping your eyes locked on his. He nods with a satisfied hum. "Now show me how sorry you are for pushing me today."
You start with kisses along his length before dragging your tongue from base to tip. Jay groans, his fingers tightening in your hair, but he doesn't force you — not yet. His thickness stretches your lips as you finally take him into your mouth. He is big enough that you can only take about half before he hits the back of your throat. Your hand wraps around the base, stroking what does not fit in a steady rhythm.
"Fuck… that’s it," he murmurs, tilting his head back for a moment before his gaze returns to you. He doesn't want to miss a single second of this. "Look at me while you suck it."
You do, looking up at him with teary eyes, and the sight makes his cock twitch in your mouth. When you pull back to catch your breath, he slaps his cock against your tongue a few times, leaving strings of saliva connecting you, before guiding you back down. "Yeah, just like that… good girl."
Between bobs, when you pull back to breathe, you say breathlessly, "I’m sorry for distracting you and for Jake being here." Then he guides you down again.
Jay’s hips start moving, pushing a little deeper and testing your limits. Tears continue to prick your eyes from the stretch, but you keep going, hollowing your cheeks and moaning around him.
When he finally gets close, Jay’s grip tightens, his thighs tense, and his breathing becomes ragged. "I’m going to come. Don’t waste it, swallow everything." You nod around him, doubling your efforts and with a deep groan, he comes down your throat — thick, hot pulses that you swallow eagerly, not letting a single drop escape.
He pulls out slowly, a string of saliva and cum connecting your lips to the tip before it breaks. "Open your mouth. Show me."
You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to prove you swallowed everything. “That’s my good girl.”
He helps you up, pulls you back into his lap, and kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue. Your hips start moving on their own, pressing against the growing hardness beneath you that makes Jay groan into your mouth, one hand sliding down to grab your bare ass and guide your movements.
"Still not satisfied? Such a greedy little thing." Even though he just came, his cock is already stirring again, hardening beneath you as your wet pussy slides along his length.
You gasp against his mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders. "Jay… I need you so bad."
He answers by kissing you again, but soon pulls back to meet your eyes. "Then take what you want."
You don’t hesitate, not even for a second. Rising on shaky knees, you reach down and align the thick head of his cock against your entrance, and slowly you sink down, gasping at the stretch and every inch that fills you. The lack of a barrier makes him feel impossibly thicker than the last time in his office — hotter, more intimate. The spanked skin of your ass burns as you settle fully against his thighs.
"Fuck," Jay hisses, his head falling back against the couch for a moment as his hands grip your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you fully impaled on him. "So wet… so fucking tight like this."
You start moving, rolling your hips in a slow, deep rhythm, the angle letting you feel every ridge and vein raw inside you, pulling broken moans from your throat. One of his hands slips under your shirt to caress one tit while the other stays on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in time with your movements. The mix of pleasure and stinging burn makes everything more intense.
"That’s right," he growls, thrusting up to meet you. "This is what you wanted all day, isn’t it? My attention. My cock." You lean forward, kissing him messily while you bounce, moving your hips faster.
With a low curse, he wraps his arms around you and suddenly flips you, laying you down on the couch cushions, driving him even deeper which pulls a sharp cry from you.
Now he is on top, pinning you beneath him — one of your legs hooked over his shoulder as he starts thrusting into you with deep, powerful strokes — hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt each time and the lack of a condom lets you feel every raw inch.
Clinging to his back, your nails dig in as the pleasure borders on overwhelming. Jay’s face hovers above yours, his hair damp with sweat falling into his eyes. Rhythm falters for a second as he looks at you, something darker flashing across his face, the jealousy from earlier — the image of Jake leaving your apartment — has not disappeared. "Are you on the pill?"
You shake your head, breathless, barely able to form words between moans. "No, I’m not."
He thrusts harder, hitting deep against your cervix as if to emphasize the point. "Good," he growls, eyes locked on yours. "Actually, fucking perfect. Maybe I’ll knock you up tonight, put a baby in you so you won’t even think about another guy like Jake. You’ll stay right here with me, we’ll have a beautiful family, me, you, and our kids. No more distractions."
The words should have shocked you, but in the heat of the moment — with him fucking you raw, his body claiming yours completely — they only send a fresh wave of arousal through you. Moaning loudly, your legs tightening around his waist. "Jay… fuck—"
He groans at your reaction, his hips moving harder. "You like that idea, don’t you? My cum deep inside you, getting you pregnant so everyone knows you’re claimed." One of his hands slides down to press lightly against your stomach, as if he can already imagine it.
The couch creaks beneath you both, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet noises of him fucking you filling the room. Jay’s earlier irritation fuels every deep thrust, but so does possessiveness — the need to claim you completely after the stressful day. He presses you deeper into the cushions, his hips moving in a way that grinds against your clit with every stroke.
When you finally come, it is intense — your walls contracting tightly around his cock as you scream his name. Jay follows right after, burying himself as deep as possible, and you feel the hot pulses of his cum filling you, thick and warm.
For long minutes, Jay simply holds you — kissing your neck, your jaw, your swollen lips — his cock softening slowly inside you, but as the minutes stretch on, you feel him coming back to life, pulsing against your sensitive walls. "Already?" There is a playful tone in your voice.
"I can’t help it." He moves, pressing one last kiss to your mouth before slowly pulling out. You moan at the loss, feeling his cum start to leak out of you, but his hand quickly reaches down to push it back inside you with two fingers. "Don’t waste it."
He leans back on the couch, stroking himself until he is fully hard again. "Turn around. Hands on the backrest."
You obey, your body trembling as you shift position, kneeling on the cushions, gripping the top of the backrest and arching your back slightly while Jay moves behind you, his gaze fixed on the evidence of the earlier spanking — your cheeks still red with visible handprints — as one of his palms smooths reverently over the heated skin before squeezing firmly.
"Fuck, look at this… Still so red from your lesson." His cock brushes against your entrance before he thrusts deep inside you in one powerful stroke, the new position letting him sink even deeper as the head of his cock presses against spots that make your toes curl drawing a loud moan from you while you grip the backrest tighter as he bottoms out.
Jay starts fucking you with firm, powerful thrusts — deep and deliberate, the couch creaking beneath you both — as every thrust makes your sore ass bounce and the red marks darken even more with the impact, his eyes unable to leave them while his thumbs press into the soft flesh, pulling you back onto his cock repeatedly.
"These marks… they look so good on you." Without warning, he lands a hard, stinging spank on your right cheek, the already sensitive skin making you cry out and clench hard around his cock as Jay groans at the sensation, his hips stuttering for a moment before he resumes his deep rhythm.
He gives your left cheek another spank, making you writhe and moan again as you push back against him desperately despite the burn — or maybe because of it — the mix of pain and pleasure making you even wetter, the previous creampie turning everything obscenely wet and messy.
"That’s it," he praises, smoothing his hands over the fresh marks he just added. "Squirm for me. I love how sensitive you are right here." He gives you one more spank, lighter this time but still enough to make you shudder, and immediately soothes the area with his hands, massaging the sore flesh while he continues thrusting deep and hard from behind.
Jay leans over you, bracing one hand on the back of the couch beside yours while the other reaches down to rub tight circles on your clit. His chest presses against your back, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks between thrusts. "You’re going to take every drop again, princess. I’m going to give you my babies, keep you so full you won’t even think about anyone else."
When you come again — hard, your vision blurring from the overwhelming sensations — Jay follows right behind, burying himself deep with a groan and flooding you with another load of hot cum. He stays inside you for a long time afterward, thrusting slowly through the aftershocks.
Finally, he pulls out carefully and pulls you into his arms, stroking your back in slow, gentle movements. "You’re a mess, princess. Come on, let me take care of you."
He stands up with you in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. Once inside, he turns on the shower, adjusts the temperature, and removes the rest of both your clothes before guiding you under the hot spray with him where the water cascades over you both. Jay takes his body wash, lathers it between his hands, and runs them over your skin — being extra careful around your sensitive ass, massaging the foam in light circles that ease some of the sting.
"Maybe I was a little too rough tonight," he says, his hands moving along your thighs, cleaning away the evidence of the many rounds. "Work stress got to me, and then seeing Jake… I took it out on you more than I should have. You handled it really well, but I’m sorry if it was too much."
You lean back against his chest, letting the water rinse off the soap as you tilt your head to look at him. "It hurt… but it also felt good. In a weird way. I just hated feeling like I was bothering you earlier. I didn’t want to annoy you while you were working. I just… missed you a lot."
After rinsing you, he turns off the shower, wraps you in a towel first, then himself and dries you carefully, paying extra attention to your ass and rubbing some soothing lotion he finds in the cabinet. "There. Better?"
"Much better," you admit, reaching up to touch his face. "Thank you for taking care of me like this."
He leans down and kisses your forehead. "You make it easy to want to take care of you." Pulling you closer, his voice shifting to something even calmer and more sincere. "I don’t know what I’d do without you around. I can’t imagine coming home and not having you here like this. You just… fit. Right here with me."
You hug him tightly, burying your face in his chest. "I feel the same. I always want to be close to you because you make everything feel better."
Smiling against your hair, Jay guides you to the bed and pulls the covers back, lying down beside you to pull you close against his chest. One arm wraps around you securely, his hand rests gently on your ass — not squeezing, just warm and protective over the sensitive skin.
You snuggle even closer, your leg draped over his as exhaustion finally takes over completely. "Stay the night?" you ask sleepily.
"Wouldn’t dream of leaving," His fingers trace lazy circles on your back until your breathing evens out and you fall asleep.
Next morning you stir slowly, feeling the pleasant ache in your muscles and Jay’s heavy arm draped over your waist, his body curled protectively against your back. He feels you waking up and trails lazy kisses along your shoulder before moving up the side of your neck. "Good morning, baby," he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep as his hand slides to your stomach. "Sleep well?"
You turn in his arms, smiling despite the slight soreness when you move, and reach up to brush the messy hair from his forehead. "Yes… thanks to you."
He leans in and kisses you properly — slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that makes you melt. At this point, he couldn't care less that neither of you had brushed your teeth yet. "You were incredible last night. Let me make it up to you a little more with breakfast."
Jay borrows a pair of your sweatpants that look comically tight on his incredibly nice ass, making you laugh as he models them. In the kitchen, you work side by side like so many mornings before — he cracks eggs for scrambled eggs while you toast bread and slice fruit. Small touches are stolen throughout: a hand on your lower back as he reaches past you, a quick kiss on your temple when you hand him the salt shaker, a playful bump of his hip against yours.
"You’re in a good mood today," you tease, leaning against the counter while he plates the food.
"I can’t help it when I wake up next to you." He sets the plates on the table and pulls you in for another kiss before you both sit down.
After eating, you start getting ready for college and he for the office. Jay kisses you one more time before heading back to his apartment next door to get ready for work. You take a long shower and, once dressed in jeans and a comfortable blouse, you step out into the hallway at the same time he does, looking impeccable in his work clothes.
He quickly pulls you in for a proper goodbye, hands gently cradling your face as he kiss your forehead, lingering there for a long moment. "Have a good day at class. Text me when you’re done." With one last soft kiss on your lips, he pulls away with a smile. "See you later, princess."
College passes in a whirlwind of classes and notes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Jay — the way he holds you, the sweet words, the kisses. He has not sent many messages during the day, which is a little unusual, but you figure he must be busy at work.
When you finally get home in the early evening, you step into the elevator and press the button for the third floor. Just before the doors close, a woman you have never seen in the building before enters, but something about her face seems vaguely familiar.
The woman smiles politely as the elevator starts moving. Curiosity gets the better of you and before you can stop yourself, you ask, "Hi… do you live here? I’ve been in the building for about two months and I don’t think I’ve seen you around."
She nods, laughing lightly. "Yes, I do, but I’ve been away on a work trip. I’m a lawyer and a complicated case kept me out of town longer than expected. I actually got back this morning."
"Wow. That sounds intense… By the way, my name is y/n. Nice to meet you."
The woman’s smile widens. "Nice to meet you too. Jay has already told me about you. He’s mentioned his sweet neighbor a few times."
Your heart flutters with joy — Jay talked about you to the neighbors. It feels special, like proof that you are really becoming a bigger part of his life. "He did? That’s nice to hear."
The elevator dings on the third floor and you both step out together. A small flicker of confusion crosses your mind — she is going the same way — but you don’t think much of it. Maybe she lives farther down the hall.
Then you see Jay standing there and your face lights up immediately. He hadn't texted you all day, and seeing him now makes excitement bubble up inside you. You walk toward him with a radiant smile.
At the same moment, the woman also walks straight up to him. When she reaches him, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him — a deep, familiar, affectionate kiss. Jay’s hands settle on her waist automatically as he eagerly kisses her back.
The world stops.
Your feet freeze mid-step and everything inside you turns cold and numb. It takes a moment for your brain to process what you are seeing, but then the pieces fall into place with painful clarity. That was Jay’s wife. The woman in the Polaroid photo he casually said was his "sister." The late-night calls he claimed were from the office. The feminine body wash he said belonged to his mom. The distant restaurant he took you to on your first date, probably so no one nearby would recognize him. The way the doorman sometimes looked at you with that judgmental expression, like he knew something — he did. All the small inconsistencies you had ignored because you were so blinded by how gentle and attentive he seemed.
Every sweet word, every touch, every promise of "you’re mine" had been built on lies. He was married. His heart already belonged to someone else, and you had been nothing but a convenient distraction from the apartment next door — blind, eager, and so in love with the version of him he showed you that you never saw the truth.
Jay’s eyes meet yours over his wife’s shoulder, and for a fraction of a second, something like panic or guilt flashes across his face. The shock turns into pure pain, making you practically run to your door as you fumble for your keys while hot tears blur your vision.
You lean against the door, sliding down to the floor as sobs begin to escape you. Your chest hurts as if someone had ripped a hole in it. All the cute moments — the kisses, the touches, the date, the bouquet — turn ugly and humiliating in your memory.
You cry hard, knees pulled up to your chest, as disappointment turns into shame for having fallen so completely for the man who made you feel special, desired, and loved… and it was all a lie.
The thin walls allow you to hear muffled voices — his wife asking about his day, the normalcy of their conversation only making everything worse. You press your hands over your ears, trying to block out the sound, but the damage is already done. Your heart is shattered.
The man you had grown so attached to — the one who held you so tenderly after sex, who made you breakfast and promised more comfortable days like that — was someone else’s husband, and you had been the other woman without even knowing it.
𑣲⋆ Yang Jungwon ❤︎ Fem!reader ✴︎ cute fluffy angst age gap [Jungwon is 11 and reader is 6 in the first part of the story] romance royal au knight Jungwon princess reader blood war fight happy ending mentions of Heeseung semi proofread
💭 𓂃 𓈒𓏸 8.6k ⋆˚࿔ ꒰ long fic ꒱ 💌
𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑰𝑵 ✶ Jungwon who has been taught to fight and protect, meets you at a young age where innocent friendship blossoms. But as you both grown up, somewhere along the lines, you both fall for each other despite knowing your circumstances and must fight against all odds to stay together.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ ✶ 🪽 Haze' notes : My first ever long fic is here! I really wanted to write a long fic and I finally did it after months of not trusting myself and giving up half way. I really really hope you enjoy this!!
Jungwon's whole life has been made up of only two elements, 1. Learning how to fight and protect, 2. Protecting the princess he is assigned for life. Ever since he was a child, he has been taught how to hold a sword before, how to play. How to bow before he could recite the alphabet and how to combat before he started schooling.
The teacher was his own father, the knight to the queen and her protector who swore to protect the queen until his last breath. And when Jungwon was born, he was raised to not play with toys but wield a sword. He was raised to obey commands and put his life on the line for the person he is assigned to protect.
A perfect knight.
A shield.
When the princess was born, Jungwon was about six years old. Sharp and witty, having wits at the ripe age of eleven. He was one of the brightest for his age, easily passing the others in skills of combat. Jungwon was invited by the queen herself to see the princess after trusting his father to have taught Jungwon well.
It was one of fate's many games to bring the knight and the princess closer.
Little Jungwon was very curious to see the princess for himself. He had heard how his father praised the princess's charms and beauty, calling her the moon's child. And when his father told him about being invited, he was delighted with the hopes of seeing the princess for himself.
“Jungwon-ah, the princess is very delicate, ok?” His father warned him, walking inside the palace towards the royal nursery where the queen and the king resided in waiting for the invitees. Little Jungwon couldn’t express his excitement and joy when they reached the gates of the nursery. The princess was just a door away and he would see if the princess was worthy of such high praise.
“Remember Jungwon, bow to his highness and her highness, do not seem extremely eager and maintain the calm I taught you.”
It may seem as if Jungwon doesn’t fully understand what his father conveys to him but despite him only being eleven years old, he has been trained and taught many things that even peasants do not possess. Naturally making him much more capable and mature at a child’s age. “Yes, father.” Jungwon took deep breaths and fixed his attire, a knight’s robe to match the one of his father.
“Here we go.” The older man gave a nod to the guard nearest to him, watching intensely as the door opened slowly. The natural rays from the sun passed through the huge windows in the room, making Jungwon squint and his heart raced at the anticipation of him finally facing the royals along with the princess. “Come Jungwon.” Jungwon obediently followed his father as he led the way into the royal nursery.
To say that the room was beautiful was an understatement. White carpets, floral designs, soft lighting from the sun along with a small chandelier on the ceiling, toys and dolls scattered everywhere on the floor, and a small bed in the center of all, leaning on the wall of the huge glass pane.
The king and the queen sat in the left corner of the room, smiling softly and watching as a small child played near the empty fireplace with her plush toys. The princess. “My lord. My lady.” Jungwon watched his father bow his head in respect while his torso stayed upright. “Ahh, my knight. Welcome.” The queen smiled while the king huffed pleasantly.
Jungwon bowed down just like his father, showing deep respect to the royals. “I am Yang Jungwon.” He voiced, standing erect and cautious. It wasn't that he needed to be cautious, it was just his upbringing. “Welcome, young knight.” The queen gracefully waved and the king smiled at the young boy, impressed by this mature behaviour.
“You may see the princess. For I wish Yang Jungwon to be her knight.”
Jungwon's heart froze, knuckles turning white from the shock. He didn't even show them his training yet, and he was already chosen? “My lady—Jungwon hasn't completed his training—”
“I agree with the queen, Yang. Your boy seems ready and he will continue to train with you and also other mentors but he will remain in the castle. With princess Y/N”
The five year old girl, you, looked up at being called a princess, standing up and running up to Jungwon and hugged his waist. “You will be my friend?” Jungwon's heart thumped rapidly inside his chest, face turning red for the nervousness and embarrassment. He was a really shy person and physical affection wasn't his thing.
“Appa! Will he be my friend?” The little you turned to your father, the king and questioned with a huge smile on your face with your eyes sparkling with hope. When Jungwon had first walked in, your eyes had sparkled up in pure joy to meet another friend, someone other than the caretaker. Seeing the young handsome boy, you instantly dropped everything and started staring at him in awe.
“Yes, princess, He is your friend now.” Your father smiled at you lovingly. You jumped in place at the excitement and hugged him again, nudging your face in his stomach and grinning widely at making a new friend. Jungwon? His heart thumped faster than the time when he ran the fastest. His emotions were all over the place but one thing was sure, you were pretty. Very pretty. And that was the first time he understood the duties of being a knight. Protect you and destroy the danger.
It has been two weeks since you were under Jungwon’s care and eyes. The caretaker was always there in the nursery but whenever you ran out, Jungwon would drop everything he was doing and run after you to make sure you don’t trip and break your nose, or scrape your soft knee. He used to train in the chamber which was right beside the nursery, always keeping an eye out even when he was in the middle of training and you were taking a nap.
But today? It was different. It was your birthday and you had not stopped bothering Jungwon since the second you opened your eyes. “Won! Bring me some water!”, “Won! Can you pick me up and swing?”, “Won! Help me pick a dress, I don’t like what she gives me.”, and so much more. Jungwon felt as if he was on a rollercoaster, running around managing you while his father stayed near the royals and finished work there.
As much as Jungwon cared about you from the past 4 months, he was starting to get annoyed by how frequently you were bothering him during his training for insignificant chores. He didn’t want to get mad at you today, heck he didn’t want to get mad at you ever, but especially today since it was a special day for you but—”Y/N can you not?! Stop bothering me!”
That was it. He snapped at you while you sneaked him a little piece of cake from the kitchen, wanting to share the first birthday together with him. The problem was that Jungwon snapped at you without even knowing the reason for why he did so. He just snapped when you entered his chambers for the first time with your hands holding a small slice of cake, dirty from the cream.
The entire world froze, Jungwon froze too after realizing what he had done. He just snapped at you, the one person he has to protect and give up his life for, the one who he will stay by the side of, no matter the age. The one who thought of him as her first friend and deep down he considered her a friend too. The princess. His princess.
Jungwon turned around to see you standing just inside his chambers, holding a slice of cake in your little hands with frosting dripping and messing up everything. He saw the pretty yellow dress you wore, a soft pastel gown with floral designs which were now messed up with the frosting melting. He saw your lips tremble, soft peach colour popping out as your lips forming a pout. He saw your hair which enhanced your entire innocence, a little ribbon on your hair, soft curls, looking like the perfect princess.
At last, he saw your eyes, beautiful brown eyes that he always wanted to keep tears away from always, the eyes he never wanted to show any pain, now filled to the brim because of his stupidity. The realization struck him hard. All you wanted was a friend you could laugh with, have fun with on your special day. You could have gone to anyone. The neighbouring kingdom’s daughter who was the same age as you, your cousins who ran around you the whole day to make sure you don’t get hurt.
And even after having so many more individuals who you could be with, you still chose him. You chose him to be the first person to share a special moment with. Not your parents, who birth you. Not your caretaker who has been by your side the second you were born. No, you chose him. A friend you made 4 months ago who now you love. Who you die to see the second you wake up and the one you hug every night before going to your chambers to sleep. And he snapped at you.
A silent sob escaped your mouth, a single tear dropped. Jungwon’s heart ripped open from his chest at the sight. No. No. Not because of him. Not his princess. “Prin—” You were out his chambers before he could even finish a word. You run wherever your little legs take you, the cake leaving trails behind you on the floor. You were heartbroken. All you wanted to do was have the first celebration with your special friend but he doesn’t care.
Jungwon stood frozen as you crossed his threshold, sprinting away from his chambers while he stayed frozen on the spot. It wasn’t his fault, right? He did the right thing by finally snapping at you right? Because you were annoying him. He was busy training since the morning and you were bothering him continuously even though you knew he was training. But those thoughts were gone as quick as they arrived when his eyes flashed with your teary eyes.
No, he wasn’t right. Even if he wanted to snap at you, he could have done it later. He could have stopped himself because he knows it's your special day. No, he needed to find you. He needed to get to you.
“Princess! Wait!” Jungwon ran behind you in full speed as you sprinted towards the ballroom with almost everyone there. Jungwon almost reached you, trying to save you from slamming into someone and hurting yourself or getting your pretty dress dirty. He didn’t want this day for you to be sad. This was your special day and he didn’t want to ever ruin your special day.
But he was a little late. Before he could grasp your hand and pull you into him, you had slammed into a tall rough leg, the thighs of a soldier who was guarding the place. Your head slams into his thigh and the force pushes you to fall back on the floor with a loud thud. The entire ballroom freezes. The people stop everything they were doing, other kids in the room stop running around and Jungwon froze two steps behind you.
THUD
You drop on the floor and flare your arms at the side to steady yourself, the cake smashing pathetically under your fingers, having the soft texture smush and stick to your fingers.
One tear. Two tears. And then you burst out crying. The cake falls from your hand onto your pretty dress, making it dirty which just makes you sob louder. Everyone ran to you in an instant, grabbing you and cradling you in their arms, wiping your tears softly and whispering sweetly in your ears that everything will be alright. That your pretty yellow dress will be cleaned and the birthday will be wonderful. But how could you explain that you weren’t upset because of the dress. You weren’t upset that you bumped into a soldier and fell on your bum.
You were upset that your only friend yelled at you when all you wanted was to celebrate the special day with him first. That you wanted to eat the cake with him first before you did with anyone else. But, he chose to yell at you. He chose to make you cry. Jungwon couldn’t do anything because you were in the arms of grown ups who were clearly taller than an eleven year old.
He wanted to hug you, apologize to you and even let you hit him for ever making you cry on your birthday but how could he? Tears filled his little eyes too and his lips trembled. You were crying because of him. He was the one to make you cry. The heartbreak was too much for him to bear too. He looked down and harshly wiped his tears, trying to appear strong but at the end of the day, he was a child too. At the cry of the princess, the king and the queen appeared, the queen taking her in her arms while the king furiously demanded to know who made his princess cry.
Jungwon flinched, looking up at the furious king before stepping forward with his head bowed. “It was me, your majesty.” Jungwon stammered out, feeling extremely embarrassed and angered by his own actions. The king's expression switched from anger to shock, not believing that Jungwon could make you cry because of how well he treated you. “What did you do, son?”
Jungwon's eyes stinged with tears at the endearment. He couldn't voice out what actually had happened. That he was being stupid and snapped at you just because you had been annoying him the whole time. How could he say that to the king?
“Jungwon?” The voice of his father broke the silence. He came over to Jungwon, looking at his son with confusion. “You made her cry?” That's when his dam broke. Jungwon let everything out like a dam gushing out water into an empty path. He explained how he had been practicing but you kept bothering him and he never intended to make you cry or snap at you but in the heat of the moment, he couldn't stop himself and snapped at you and made you cry.
The room was silent while Jungwon was speaking, the only other sound was of you sobbing softly. You heard everything he said, every word and sucked on your fingers with regret. You saw him cry and that made you sad. You didn't like that feeling. You didn't like feeling sad and seeing your friend sad. Jungwon wiped his eyes and looked at the king with regret, begging for forgiveness and also begging for forgiveness from you.
He thought he had messed up now, that could never be friends with you the same way again. He thought about how he would miss you calling for him at every minor inconvenience yet he would happily come to your services just to see your sweet smile. He didn't want to lose any of that. Just when Jungwon lost all hopes and thought he would never be her knight again, the entire hall burst out laughing.
The king and his father too were on the ground, laughing like they have heard the most uproarious thought ever. It was just a little banter with two kids who care about each other a lot and had their first fight. It was the cutest sight. Jungwon and you couldn't understand why the adults were laughing while you both just cried your hearts out, like it was something hilarious.
You wiggled out the arms of your mother who was holding you and ran to Jungwon, wrapping your hands around him while looking at the crowd. “I forgive you, wonnie.” You whispered and looked up to him with a smile, your hair framing your face so beautifully that Jungwon felt as if his heart had short circuited. The adults' laughter died down as they saw the two of you in each other's arms, smiling and giggling like old friends again after Jungwon had cried and begged for forgiveness. And since you had forgiven him, the king too had no reason to punish you, knowing it was just a children's banter.
But the bond between the two of you? Grew stronger and the both of you grew closer to each other.
The both of you grew up beautifully in harmony with each other. You were now a beautiful young lady, a princess who was nicknamed, the moon's child, because of your beauty. You were now at the age eighteen where you learned about various things like the court, the committee, the ministers and other royals like the head of soldiers, the nobles and the relations with your neighbouring kingdom.
Jungwon, now at the age of twenty four, grew up to be a dashing handsome gent. He was appointed to be your personal knight three years ago and since then, he has never left your side for even a second. Friendship apart, he would always take care of you no matter what. It didn't matter to him if he was sick, in pain or just extremely tired. He was wherever you were.
The relationship between the two of you grew beautifully too. The bond that the both of you share grew stronger and deeper with such extraordinary connections where every peasant admired your pair too. You were the playful one of the duo, the jolly and the happy soul, the free butterfly who slept on flowers with no tension in her mind. Jungwon was quite the opposite.
If you were the people's lover, he hated people. You would roam around the palace, looking at flowers, wearing a flowy dress, open hair and a huge smile on your face to light up a world. Jungwon would be two steps right behind you. He would watch you carefully, wearing a sword on his hips at all times whenever he is on duty. He wasn't going to slack off while you were all happy and let that get ruined by some peasant or an arrogant prince who can't take no for an answer.
But there was something that stung you everyday even though you prided yourself of being his first friend, the one he truly cares about. His sword. The sword that he always carried like it was a part of his own body. He would wake up and wear that sword till the day ended and the cycle would repeat.
The sword was his first wife. The one who grew up with him even before you had ever come into his life and sometimes it made you jealous. You would catch him in his chambers, tending to his sword with such ease and gentleness in his fingers, sharpening the edges and cleaning the rust. His eyes held a certain glint whenever he took care of his sword. Like that sword was his. Sometimes so delicate yet strong, so fierce yet beautiful. His weapon.
Your heart ached watching him smother his sword with love when you wanted the same, perhaps more.
Ever since you were eleven and he was seventeen, you had developed a terrible crush on your friend. Whenever he was near you, your breaths fumbled, your mind turned to white noise and your eyes scanned for him at all times. Sneaking glances, smiling shyly at him while he was dining with the other guards, your heart raced thinking that maybe one day he would like you too.
Maybe one day he would see you like a woman and take care of you like he does with his sword, like he gently cradles it and sharpens it beautifully.
But what you never knew was how you made his heart stop with every shy you would give him. You thought he never noticed you just because he was looking at the guards and having a talk while dining but he noticed. He always noticed anything in relation to you. The soft glances, the stolen moments, the teasing touches, his mind screamed at him to make you his but he couldn't.
There were two things stopping him and he would never betray his morals.
1. You were too young. He was seventeen, an adolescent while you were only eleven. A child. He would never ever view a child with the eyes of a man. You were a child for him, not a woman. A person to protect and die for, not to love and cherish.
2. You were a princess. He was a knight. Those two are never meant to be together under any circumstances. He was a commoner while you were a royal. The bloodline will carry on with you and he was not going to be the one to taint it. Your kingdom was the purest of the royals with absolutely no illegitimate children and no other blood other than the royals.
He was never going to harm that line. So when he understood what you were planning to do, he locked his heart up, threw the key blindly, and forced himself to never ever look at you in such a manner.
But feelings don't disappear just because a heart is locked up and the mind takes control. The feels are pushed down, forgotten but never lost. Unknowingly, the feelings Jungwon had for you only grew deeper and deeper. And now when he had to keep his feelings out the most, that's when it started to rise back up. To bite him right on his ass.
“Jungwon, you mustn’t disturb the princess while she is being called upon.” Jungwon’s jaw clenched hard after hearing his fellow guard warn him. Today was the start of the day where you would start allowing suitors from all around the world to try and swoon you for marriage. Having your eighteenth birthday yesterday, Jungwon had been secretly dreading this.
“I won't disturb her unless the noble tries something first.” He replied, looking straight ahead with a blank face but the pop of veins on his neck told another story. “I'm her knight.” The line of suitors start lining up outside the common hall, having to go through Jungwon before they step inside to meet you.
Jungwon's mind was going crazy. Seeing the line of handsome and capable men drove him crazy because he didn't want to lose you. His feelings kept rising up without his permission making him get extremely possessive of you, but he shoved all those feelings down and let the nobles in one by one, letting them try to swoon you when all he wanted was just to walk in and hide you from the world and the eyes of other men.
One by one, they all walked out with failure and the pride in Jungwon rose slowly. That's right. No one deserved you. You deserved the best of the best, the one who can protect you, cherish you, love you.. die for you. “Won! Aish, it was so tiring,” Your voice hits his ears like sweet music when you whine like that. You were finally free after the last suitor had gotten rejected for the day. Jungwon’s head turned in your direction at your voice, seeing you yawn and stretch in the royal gown uncomfortably.
He cleared his throat before quickly looking away. How could you look so good? “Princess, time for lunch.” Jungwon's heart thumped harder at your whine, you pouting so cutely in front of him, looking so adorable. “Won! Are you even listening to me rant?!” You poke his bicep, trying to draw his attention back to your rants but he just looked straight ahead and fixed his sword which was already placed neatly on his waist. “I am, princess.” He said, trying to keep his voice even and calm like he has always been taught. “Liar!” You pouted and turned away from him, walking away faster.
Fine, if he wants to be difficult, then you can always be difficult. You rejected all of them because they couldn't come close to Jungwon, having love in your heart only for him but even after that, he chose to not look at you while you were dressed up for him, then alright, you can play hard to get too. Jungwon’s eyebrow flutters in amusement as you walk faster than him, crossing your arms above your chest and moving away to your chambers to get ready for the royal lunch. He couldn’t help but smirk a little in amusement at your behaviour.
“Princess, trying to run away from your own guard?” Jungwon caught up to you in an instant. His legs were obviously much longer and faster than yours plus your huge gown restricted you from walking too fast. His breath hit the back of your ear, like he was teasing you for acting like you don’t care. “Did I get my princess upset?” Jungwon knows this is wrong. He knows he shouldn't speak like this with the princess and that doing this may open his heart unknowingly, hurting him and perhaps hurting you in the process but he just couldn’t stop himself when you looked so cute and mad at him.
“Go away, Jungwon! I have Heeseu—”
‘No you don’t. He is with your sister.” Heeseung was the royal knight for your younger sister but you were also close to him because Jungwon was one of his best friends. You knew Jungwon did get a little possessive when you mentioned Heeseung, not liking how you smile while you talk about heeseung to him so this was one of your ways to make him jealous but turns out, he is a step ahead of you.
“Talk to me, princess.” He smiled gently, the smile that one you know. He has never smiled at anyone, not even his own father. This smile is reserved for you only. He knows your heart melts when you watch his little dimple pop out when he gives you that smile, and it definitely does melt you. It melts you like butter. “You didn't listen to me rant..” You pout, looking at him with doe eyes. And Jungwon? Gone. Heart skipped a beat, face going red and his entire being crumbled.
He can never maintain the tough knight personality when he is with you.
“I was, my princess. But, I'm also worried about your dining—”
“Don't be worried!” You interrupted, “I dine quite well, knight.” You roll your eyes playfully, turning your head away from him in fake annoyance. Jungwon's heart raced at your cuteness, his mind blurring everything around them to only focus on you. This was horrible for him. You were a princess, he was a knight. Not made for each other yet he can never seem to move away from you.
“I beg for your forgiveness, princess..” Jungwon breathes into your ears, his fingers itching to just let go and grab you by the waist, tugging you into his chest. God, he was obsessed but he shouldn’t be. Especially when he knows you are too. “Beg properly, knight!” You stop him and turn to face him, arms crossed over your chest as you look at with a playful glare. Jungwon grinned knowingly. You wanted him to kneel and bow his head in utter submission.
“Will you go that far princess?” He tilted his head and raised a single eyebrow, cocking his head to see behind him. “There is no one here and yes, I will go that far!” You huff, not believing if he would actually do it or not. If you wanted it, then Jungwon would do it. Heck, he would lay his life in front of you without a second thought so what's so shameful about kneeling?
Without wasting another second, Jungwon dropped to his knees and looked up with a smile, “Forgive me, princess. I vow to never ignore you ever again.” He smiled, bowing his head in submission. Your mouth dropped open at his immediate submission, he didn't waste a single second and just went on his knees. Heat bloomed in your body as blush creeped up on your rosy cheeks. You liked it a lot, you liked the sight in front.
“That's my good knight.” You smile teasingly, trying to hide how much it affected you to see him on his knees for you. A strong man, enough to crack skulls and break bones without breaking a sweat, kneeling before you and giving you all the power. You loved him. You had realized it long ago but never had the courage to admit it because you weren't sure of his feelings but now you know.
“I forgive you, but on one condition.” Jungwon looked up with amusement and slight confusion on his face. You didn't let him speak and just sprinted towards the grand staircase, making him snap out and chase after you. “Princess! You aren't supposed to—”
“Just follow me, Won!” Jungwon hears you yell and sprints after you. You run down the staircase, listening to his boots clicking the marble floor as he runs behind you. Your heart raced with nervousness and excitement, your mind buzzing with only one thought. You want to confess today, you want him to accept you as his wife. You didn't care what the laws said, what the kingdom obeyed, you wanted him for yourself and wanted to serve him, love him.
You sprint outside the castle while giggling, snatching a small rose as you enter the garden. Your yellow gown flowing and fluttering around the bushes. You turn back to glance at Jungwon, smiling widely with innocence and love written in your eyes.
You turn around completely when you reach the secret spot in the royal garden, the same place you and Jungwon found years ago and it became your secret safe spot where you could just be.. normal people. Not princess and the knight, just a boy and a girl who love each other a lot despite the entire universe gushing in another direction.
Jungwon caught your waist and pulled you into his chest, panting from running as you laugh whole heartedly and steady yourself on his chest, looking up at him from his chest to find him already looking at you with adoration in his eyes with something else.. something deeper. “Really, Y/N?” He whispered, his arms tightening around your waist. You slowly calm down from your giggles, blushing as you realise the closeness between the two of you.
His face was inches away from yours, his breath hitting your lips, his eyes locked onto yours. Jungwon's heart was going crazy, thumping out his chest. His mind screamed at him to kiss you, to close the gap and forget about the world. Forget about his world and yours, close the gap and kiss.
No. No, he couldn't. He shouldn't. “What's the condition, Y/N?” He steadied you on your feet and pulled away as if your touch burned him. A whine almost escaped your lips as he pulled back. You had seen his eyes change to raw need before his mind took over again. You wanted him to lose control, to lose himself, forget about the world and just take you like you were his.
And you were.
“Hmm, sit down first~” You hide your disappointment and sit on the stone bench carved there, pushing your hair away from your face. Jungwon cleared his throat, taking long steps towards the bench and sat beside you, placing his sword beside him. You scoff at the look of his sword, grabbing it to keep it beside you before he could stop you. “What are you doing?” He asked in surprise. You had never touched his sword, knowing how much it matters to him but for the first time, you took it away from his side?
“I can't have you distracted by your wife!” You pout, looking at him trying to lighten the air so he doesn't take it as an insult. And he didn't, he found it extremely cute seeing you get jealous over a sword like he cared more about the sword than you. “The sword isn't my wife, darling.” Your breath hitched at his nickname for you, blush creeping up your neck as your heart thumped in your ear.
“You care more about that sword! I see you taking care of it more than you take care of yourself!”
“So you are worried about me, princess?” He leaned in smirking, his eyes darting to your lips. Jungwon's adam's apple bob, his mind screaming at him to just let go, his heart begging him to take charge. “Yes, I'm worried about you! Who else will protect me?” You snap, turning away. He chuckled at your behaviour, his hands coming up to grasp your jaw gently, turning you towards him.
“Don't look away from me, Y/N.” That’s it.
“Can a princess and a knight be together, Jungwon?” Jungwon froze, his blood ran cold and his heart stopped. No, no, you were not asking this question. You weren't. This is a dream. A horrible dream. But it wasn't, you were right in front of him, staring at him with wide eyes. When you see him not answering and just staring, you panic and ramble on, talking about how much you care for him, love him, and are jealous of his sword because his fingers always find his sword before you, how his gaze always sees his sword first and not you, how you wish it was you he would look at first.
Jungwon's mind was spinning, the world spinning around him. No, no, this isn't happening. He knows you like him, he knows your deep feelings for him because the two of you were never secretive about it. But what he never wanted was any one of you conveying the feelings. No, no he couldn't bear it. The both of you cannot be together. The law forbids it. He forbade it. He forbade you to love him, marry him and maybe one day realize that perhaps you should have chosen a prince.
Or worse, he would regret choosing you selfishly because you don't belong to a commoner. You belonged to a prince. A royal blood to continue your bloodline and one day take the throne.
“And that's why I want to be your wi—”
“No.”
Shivers went down your shine, your mouth sealed shut, eyes widening and snapping up to him only to find anger in them. “No, Y/N.” Your heart shattered, breaking into a million little pieces. No? What did he mean? Did he not like you back? No, he did. “A princess and a knight cannot be together.” Jungwon felt like he was ripping his heart open. He couldn’t look at you when he said no, fearing that he might break down in tears.
“What? Jungw—” He stood up, looking anywhere but you and reached out to grab his sword, “You are meant for a prince, princess—”
You yanked his sword away from his reach, tears welling up in your eyes but your blood boiled more. “You do not have any say in who I am meant for!”
How dare he say that? How dare he say you had no right of choosing who you want to be with? You weren't an object with zero emotions, you were a human. “Give me the sword, princess.” Jungwon looked down, to the side, anywhere but your eyes which he knew were teary by the shake in your voice. “No!” You threw his sword down on the grass and moved back. “You cannot tell me that you don’t feel the same, knight! I know you do!” Your voice cracked at the end, tears softly sliding off your cheeks and onto the grass beneath. He heard it, he heard all of it and it drove him crazy that you were crying because of him.
Again.
“Appa! Will he be my friend?”
No, no, why is that memory coming up again? Stop it. Stop it! Jungwon’s head spun rapidly as he tried to erase the past memories flashing back up, closing his eyes to erase all those.
”Y/N can you not?! Stop bothering me!”
He clenched his head, his own voice echoing back at him mockingly while he heard you screaming at him for an explanation. “Talk to me, Won! Look at me and tell me you don’t feel the same!”
“That's my good knight.”
“Beg properly, knight!”
Stop it! Stop it Jungwon. Get your mind under control.
“I forgive you, wonnie.”
“Look at me, wonnie!”
Screw the law.
Before you could even process what was happening, his lips were onto yours. He listened, he finally listened to his heart. His lips moved against yours, molding perfectly. This is happening, it's happening. Your fingers twitched, reaching to grab his shoulders to steady yourself as his hands trailed to your waist, molding you into him perfectly. “I love you, dammit.. I love you so much princess, how could you think otherwise?”
Your mind felt dizzy as he whispered into your mouth, the raw need and love pouring into you. Your eyes flutter open as you look at him after he broke the kiss, seeing your own reflection into his eyes. “I have loved you since the day you hugged me, asking the king if I would be your friend.” He pressed his forehead against yours, his heart thumping out of his chest as he breathed deepened,hitting your swollen lips and rosy cheeks.
“I do feel the same, Y/N.. More than you can imagine.” His finger trailed your jaw, leaving a line of fire erupting under his fingertips on your skin. You leaned into his touch, tears of joy and relief falling into his palm as his eyes turned teary too. “Don’t cry, my princess.. What will I answer to His Majesty?” You chuckled, blinking your tears away as you pushed his chest gently, wiping your tears. “Your eyes are teary too!” He chuckled, nodding before softly grasping your hand and interlocking your fingers, “Well, wipe them for me, princess.”
“Ahem..”
Both of you flinched. You pushed at his chest hard, separating the two of you but it was too late.
“Father—”
“Your Majesty—”
You both blush, not daring to look at each other after you both spoke at the same time, syncing unintentionally in front of the king. Jungwon gulped, kneeling on the ground and grabbing his sword before standing up straight, clearing his throat to speak but was cut off by the king, “No need to explain, knight.” The both of you stiffened at his tone, your palm turned sweaty with your heart racing with fear. What will he do? Take Jungwon away? Force you to an incompetent prince against your will?
“I had suspected this. Afterall, I saw both of you grow up together.”
Your entire body was heating up in fear, mind feeling dizzy and anxious. Jungwon felt the same, but he wasn’t worried about himself, he was worried about you. “Father, I-I can explain—” He just raised his hand, silencing you in an instant. “I’m not mad, daughter. In fact, we were already preparing for it.”
…
What? Preparing for it? They knew the both of you had feelings for each other? Were you that obvious? “ The message has been sent to all the kingdoms that you, my daughter, have been engaged to, Prince Yang Jungwon.”
The day of the wedding arrived. You were dressed in a beautiful white gown with a trail of at least five meters. It was your royal wedding, the day you had been waiting for. You were getting married to your Knight.. Or now promoted to the Prince, Yang Jungwon. That day, you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your father’s mouth. Jungwon? A prince? That's when he explained that there was a secret ritual that your kingdom followed. If there was no prince born or the prince wasn’t worthy of being the ruler, then the title would be passed to the next worthy soul, regardless of their blood.
And since you never had a brother or found any prince worthy of being your husband, your parents decided to promote Jungwon to the title of Prince. And because Jungwon wasn’t your brother and had no blood connection to your family, he would be an eligible suitor, being made a prince of a small 5part of your kingdom.
And just like that, Jungwon was now a prince.
The day you heard the news in the garden, tears burst from your eyes and Jungwon went on his knees, breaking down and bowing his head to the king, thanking the heavens while you felt as if it was all a dream. It wasn’t. It was all real. You were now getting married to your best friend, your knight, your prince. The one who vowed to stay by your side and protect you till death.
“It’s time, my lady.” One of your ladies-in-waiting speaks, bowing her head gracefully and parting to make space for you. This is it. You were walking down the royal carpet, listening to the soft orchestra as you walked down with your father’s hand tugged with yours. You were finally getting married to the man you love. The man you care for and cherish. You look up from the floor, smiling with joy and your eyes sparking with love and hope.
Yang Jungwon. Standing before you in a royal blue dress shirt, gold cufflinks and white pants. You smile as you see the tears in his eyes, which he was trying his hardest to hold back. “Take care of my princess, Yang Jungwon.” Your father smiled, nodding his head towards Jungwon as he bowed deeply, paying all the respects to the king. “I will, Your Majesty.”
The two of you stood in front of each other. Your parents sat on the right and his parents on the left. A proud smile on everyone's face as you both shared vows, promising to cherish, love and protect each other until your last breaths. Jungwon picked up the ring box from the golden cushion provided by the priest, taking the diamond ring and locking eyes with you.
“My princess.. I love you.” He smiled, a single tear dropping from his eye as your eyes teared up too.
BANG
“Y/N!”
What.. What happened? Why did everything suddenly slow down? Why are your parents getting up..? Why are his parents getting up..? Why is everyone screaming?
Why is Jungwon frozen?
Blood..? Warm blood? On me? Pain?
“Y/N! No princess, stay with me!” Jungwon snapped out of his trance and immediately jumped to catch you, cradling you in his arms while he screamed your name to keep you conscious. You were shot with an arrow. Right before he slid the ring in your finger, a shot of an arrow hit you straight from the back, piercing through your stomach.
“Darling, please!”
“Jungwon, take her away now!”
Jungwon wasted no time, picking you up in his arms, he sprinted away through the secret canal made in the grand chapel for easy escape. Your gelt your heart beat slowing down, blood oozing from your mouth, “Won..”
“You are ok, baby. I promise, my princess.” He burst through a secret room which you recognised as the first room you sneaked into while you both were little, playing a game of hide and seek where you ran away and hid so well that Jungwon had actually gotten worried about where you went.
“Princess stay here, I must go back—”
“No. No, won, stay with me.” You gasped out, clenching his sleeves before he could even take a step out. You didn’t want him to get hurt, you didn’t want him to fight, You wanted him to stay with you in safety, let the soldiers and the military take care of it. But Jungwon couldn’t just stay there and do nothing when someone dared to hurt his princess. All Jungwon saw was red in his eyes, his mind screaming for death.
“I must go, princess. I am your knight first—”
“No, you aren’t my knight anymore! You are my husband and a prince!”
Jungwon was going insane. Part of him just wanted to yank his hand away, grab his sword and slay every soul who dared hurt his princess. Wanted to avenge your honour but the other half of him was worried for you. Though a doctor arrived a second later he brought you to hiding, he couldn’t bear to leave you here all alone and hurting.
Worst case scenarios flashed in his mind. What if you close your eyes forever? What if you take your last breath while he wasn’t there to save you?
“You want to fight for me, won..?” Your soft whisper pulled him out of his trance, his entire focus on you, “Yes, princess.. Please let me.” You smile, struggling to breathe as the doctor gently cut the arrow for a smooth removal. “You must come back to me, knight. You must come back to me safe and sound, wonnie..”
“I promise.”
Taking his sword, Jungwon had only one thing in his mind. Destroy. He will destroy anyone who was in part with this scheme of hurting his princess. He will spare no one. Absolutely no one dared to harm you. “Jungwon! It’s Prince Kanju!” A voice echoed from the crowd of people screaming and blood splatters. Heeseung. “Get him!” He turned his head towards the direction of the voice to see Heeseung, his best friend and fellow knight who was covering your sister under his arms.
Prince Kang. The prince you rejected last on the day of your meeting with suitors. He liked you immensely, was perhaps even obsessed with you and didn’t take the rejection nicely. Now, perhaps seeing you get tied to a knight was something he took as an insult. But it was the wrong move to harm you. Jungwon immediately scanned the room, everything slowing down in his eyes.
Jungwon was thirsty for blood. His heart wounded and mind furious.
Where is he hiding?
Where will he run off too?
How far?
There he is. Jungwon spotted him hiding his face behind a black cape, running from the back entrance of the chapel and taking advantage of the chaos. Too late, Jungwon had already seen him.
Prince Kanju will die today.
He wasted no time and sprinted in that direction. His heart raced with anger and revenge, the blood of his princess stuck to his clothes, a sign of the injury caused to you by him and he will pay for it. Jungwon followed him till he reached the garden of roses, calling out to him to challenge him. “Running away after your crimes, Kangju?” He saw the man pause, freezing in one spot. No one dared to mess with Jungwon and everyone knew to respect him. He was one of the greatest knights of all time. And he had the nerve to hurt his beloved?
The criminal turned around, plastering a fake smile on his face which seemed much more like a smirk, “Ahh, the husband of the injured, here out in the garden while his wife is suffering alone.”
Calm down, Jungwon.
“A little birdie told me, it was you who attacked my wife.” Jungwon took a step forward towards the prince, toying with the blade of his sword. “M-Me? You must be mista—”
“Then why are you out in the gardens instead of helping the civilians, moreover, why are you wearing a black cloak, hiding your—oh so handsome face?” He saw the prince’s jaw tick. Satisfaction bloomed Jungwon’s chest at seeing his face scrunched up at being mocked.
“So? What will you do if it was me who planned the attack? Do you have the guts to kill, kid?”
Not yet, Jungwon.
He took another step forward towards the criminal, his eyes turning black. “You say that as if you have an army behind you to serve you, prince. Forgot that you have nothing?” Jungwon growled, his jaw tightening as he kept taking steps and pushing the prince into a corner.
Just a little more.
“You ca-can’t kill me! I am a noble while you are just a co-commoner!” Jungwon smiled, tilting his head to the side. “Oh? I can’t? Too bad, I will.”
Now
A snap of a twig broke the restraints that held Jungwon back. He had cornered the prince into the fence and launched himself towards him. Kangju reached inside his pocket and pulled out a dagger, ducking down skillfully and slashed a huge gash on Jungwon’s chest, ripping the threads of his suit. The knight screamed in pain but lunged the sword straight at the prince’s heart, missing by an inch.
The prince dashed to the side, making a run for a small opening in the fence for an escape but Jungwon was faster. He swung his sword in front of him, slicing the prince’s back with ease as he falls down onto the grass with a loud cry, cursing out the knight. “You cannot kill me! My country will wage a war!”
Jungwon crawled over to the fallen man on the grass, dragging his legs and his blade across the grass to stop over the prince. “Your country will only defend you when it has the resources to fight.”
Jungwon held the sword with both his hands, raising it right above the chest of the criminal, “See you in hell.” He thrust the blade down right into his heart, piercing through his chest and impaled his blade right into his heart. Finally, he closed his eyes to hear the pain-filled screams of the prince as the blood oozed out in huge spurts, covering both in flesh and blood before silence filled the air. His revenge is done. The threat has been dealt with.
“Princess you must stay cal—”
“How can I stay calm when my husband is at war!”
“Your wounds must rest—”
“Y/N..”
You whip around at the sound of your name being called, freezing in spot to see the man in front of you. Jungwon. Your husband. Yang Jungwon. Wounded. Bleeding. Dying. At the sight of you safe and sound, Jungwon’s blade drops from his hands and his knees give up beneath him. You watch Jungwon burst into tears and fall on the ground, crying in relief and thanking the heavens that you are ok.
You escape the clutches of the nurse and run towards your knight, falling onto your knees which shot pain right to your stomach, opening the wounds again but you didn’t care. All you cared about was that he was safe. He was ok and not dead. “Wonnie!” You cup his face and bury your face into his chest as you sob. His blood seeping into your bandages, painting your hair red but you didn’t care. All you cared for was his heart thumping in your ears. All you cared was his chest rising and falling as he gasped into you, sobbing pitifully.
“You came back. You are ok.”
“I’m sorry I broke my vow, princess.. I couldn’t come back uninjured.” He buried his face in his hair and pressed kisses all over it. “It doesn’t matter. You are back. That’s all that matters to me.”
“I love you, my knight..”
“I love you too, my princess..”
⋆.𐙚 ̊ ✶ 🪽 Haze' note : I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing this and this is dedicated to my beloved @wooyoungmybelovedhusband for always believing in me and supporting me when I doubted my own abilities. Thank you my love!! <33
synopsis✧˖°. when you get dragged to a party by your friends, the last thing you expect is to end up in a closet with jay, your enemy for months. but seven minutes in heaven changes everything, and what starts as a game turns into a night of confessions, passion, and unexpected tenderness. sometimes the person you think you hate is the one you needed all along.
contains✧˖° explicit sexual content ; choking/breath play ; overstimulation ; make out ; rough sex ; "seven minutes in heaven" trope ; aftercare ; fluff ending ; first time together ; party scene ; sunsun & heejake mention ; unprotected sex (cloak the joker before you poke her!) ; fingering ; eating out ; wc: 5.5k ; petnames (doll, princess, pretty) ; i probally missed some... tread lightly
notes✧˖° so i really enjoyed writing smut, so i decided to do a whole story of it, but with jay!! if there are any grammatical errors, i apologize, i kinda rushed this.. if you like my writng, PLEASE send an ask!! its kind of hard for me to come up with a story on my own. anyway, please enjoy the story!!
the music was too loud. that was your first thought as you walked into the crowded living room, some generic pop song thumping through the speakers loud enough to rattle your ribs.
you scanned the room, already regretting letting your friends drag you here. the apartment was packed with people you barely knew, bodies pressed together, the air thick with the smell of cheap beer and expensive perfume. someone had opened all the windows but it did nothing to cut the heat, the september night still clinging to the walls.
and then you saw him.
jay was leaned against the kitchen counter, red solo cup in hand, laughing at something jake said. he looked annoyingly good, black shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows, silver chain catching the light. he must've felt you staring because his eyes flicked over, meeting yours across the room.
his smile dropped immediately.
you rolled your eyes, turning away. great. just what you needed tonight.
for months now, you and jay had been circling each other like sharks. it started with petty comments, escalated to full blown arguments at group hangouts, and now you couldn't be in the same room without wanting to strangle him. or something.
the something had become increasingly confusing lately. you'd notice the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders, the way his hands looked when he was typing on his phone, the way his jaw tightened when he was trying not to lose his temper with you. you'd notice, and then you'd hate yourself for noticing, and then you'd pick a fight to cover it up.
"okay everyone," sunoo called out, climbing onto a chair with the kind of dramatic flair only sunoo could manage. "we're doing spin the bottle. couples and boring people leave now."
the crowd groaned and cheered in equal measure. you should've left. you knew you should've left. nothing good ever came from party games invented by teenagers with too much time and not enough supervision.
but jay was already walking over, that stupid smirk on his face, and you weren't about to let him think he scared you off. you'd rather die than give him that satisfaction.
the circle formed on the carpet, mismatched cushions and discarded jackets creating a rough perimeter. you and jay ended up on opposite sides. perfect. your best friend mina squeezed your hand as she sat beside you, her eyes wide with the kind of delighted horror that meant she was already planning how to tell this story later.
"this is gonna be a disaster," she whispered.
"probably," you whispered back. "sunoo's already drunk. he'll probably forget his own rules in ten minutes."
"that's what i'm afraid of."
you looked around the circle. jungwon was there, looking slightly uncomfortable in the way he always did at parties, like he was calculating the earliest socially acceptable time to leave. riki was on his phone, probably texting his girlfriend. heeseung sat next to jake, their shoulders pressed together in a way that made you wonder if they were finally going to admit what everyone else already knew. sunghoon and sunoo were practically attached at the hip as usual, sunoo's head resting on sunghoon's shoulder, both of them wearing matching smirks like they knew something the rest of you didn't.
"rules," sunoo announced, clapping his hands together. "seven minutes in heaven. no exceptions. no escapees. door stays locked. if you come out early, you forfeit and have to take a shot of whatever mystery liquid jake has in that green bottle."
"it's fermented pickle juice," jake said proudly.
"absolutely not," jungwon muttered.
"what if it lands on someone you hate?" jay asked, looking directly at you with that infuriating eyebrow raise.
sunoo's grin turned wicked. "especially if it lands on someone you hate. that's the best part. the universe is telling you to work out your issues. in a closet. in the dark. alone."
"that's not how the universe works," you said.
"it is tonight," sunoo countered. "bottle is an old wine bottle, scratched and dented, completely unbiased. who's first?"
it started with jungwon. he spun and landed on some girl you didn't know, someone from sunoo's dance class apparently. they disappeared into the closet, came out seven minutes later looking disheveled but satisfied, jungwon avoiding eye contact with everyone.
riki went next. landed on jake. they just talked about soccer the whole time, apparently, though jake came out looking deeply confused about why riki knew so much about bundesliga defensive strategies.
heeseung spun and you watched jake's face carefully, the way he tried to look casual and failed completely. the bottle slowed, slowed... and stopped on sunghoon.
heeseung laughed, jake's shoulder relaxed, and sunghoon just raised an eyebrow. "i have a boyfriend," he said simply, gesturing to sunoo.
"pass," sunoo agreed. "but only because you're cute, heeseung. anyone else and i'd make them sit in the dark and think about what they've done."
then it was your turn.
you reached out, fingers wrapping around the cool glass. you could feel jay's eyes burning into you from across the circle, heavy and intent. don't land on him, you prayed. don't land on him. anyone but him. jungwon again. the wall. literally anyone else.
you spun.
the bottle rotated, catching light, slowing down, passing jungwon, passing riki, passing heeseung and jake...
and stopped on jay.
"oh my god," mina muttered, her grip on your hand tightening to the point of pain.
jay's expression didn't change but something flickered in his eyes, something dark and interested that made your stomach flip. "well," he said, standing up with that infuriating casualness. "let's get this over with."
sunoo was practically vibrating with excitement, his feet doing a little dance on the chair. "closet. now. seven minutes. don't come out early or you forfeit and drink the pickle juice."
you stood on shaky legs. this was fine. this was absolutely fine. you just had to survive seven minutes in a dark closet with your enemy. easy. you'd done harder things. you'd survived finals week. you'd eaten sunoo's cooking. you could handle this.
the closet was small. way too small. it was technically a coat closet but someone had cleared out the coats to make room for... whatever this was. jay stepped in first, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed, looking bored and put-upon. you followed, pulling the door shut behind you. the darkness was immediate and total, so complete you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.
"this is stupid," you said, pressing yourself against the opposite wall.
"agreed," jay said. his voice was closer than you expected, coming from somewhere in the middle of the small space.
you pressed yourself harder against the wall, arms crossed, trying to put as much space between you as possible. you could hear him breathing, slow and steady. smell his cologne, something woody and expensive that made you want to lean closer. the closet was warm, airless, and you could feel your heart starting to race.
"you're being dramatic, y/n," he said after a moment.
"i'm not doing anything."
"you're pressed against the wall like i'm contagious."
"maybe you are."
he laughed. low and soft, closer now. "you're ridiculous, you know that?"
"and you're insufferable."
silence. but it wasn't comfortable silence. it was charged, electric, the kind of silence that hummed against your skin and made the hair on your arms stand up. you could hear every breath he took, every subtle shift of fabric as he moved.
"why do you hate me so much?" he asked. his voice was closer now. when had he moved?
"i don't hate you."
"you sure act like it."
"because you're arrogant and annoying and you think you're better than everyone."
"and you're stubborn and impossible and you never back down from anything."
"someone has to put you in your place."
you could feel him now. the heat of him in the small space, radiating toward you like a furnace. your eyes were adjusting slightly, enough to make out the shape of him, the way he was leaning toward you, the glint of his chain catching some sliver of light from under the door.
"you've been trying to put me in your place for months," he said quietly. "how's that working out for you?"
"terribly."
"maybe you should try a different approach."
"like what?"
he didn't answer. instead, he moved. one hand found your waist, pulling you toward him with a strength that made you gasp, and then his mouth was on yours.
you gasped against his lips, surprised by the softness of them, by the way he kissed like he was starving, like he'd been waiting for this for years. his other hand came up to cup your jaw, angling your head just so, and his tongue slid against yours, demanding and sure.
you melted into it despite yourself. your hands found his chest, gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. he tasted like mint and something darker, something that made your head spin.
his hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly, pressing you against the wall. you wrapped your legs around his waist without thinking, feeling him hard against you through his jeans. the friction made you whimper, made you roll your hips seeking more.
his hands roamed your body, sliding under your shirt, thumbs brushing over your bra. you arched into his touch, already lost in the sensation, in the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch you.
"pretty girl," he whispered, watching your eyes flutter in the dim light. "so pretty and you don't even know it. walking around acting like you hate me when you've been thinking about this too, haven't you?"
"yes," you admitted, the word torn from you.
he groaned, grinding against you with intent. "say it again."
"yes, jay. i've thought about it."
"about what? be specific."
"about you. about this. about you fucking me."
the words seemed to break something in him. he kissed you harder, more desperate, hands tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make your scalp tingle.
"can't believe i'm finally touching you," he mumbled against your skin. "been driving me crazy. every time you roll your eyes at me, every time you argue, all i can think about is shutting you up with my cock in your mouth."
"jay-"
"you'd like that, wouldn't you? being on your knees for me?"
you nodded frantically, the image making you clench around nothing.
he was rolling his hips against you, creating delicious friction where you needed it most. you were both fully clothed but you'd never felt more exposed, more vulnerable, more seen.
"fuck, y/n," he breathed against your mouth. "i've wanted to do that for so long."
"shut up," you whispered, but you were kissing him again, harder this time, desperate.
his hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly, pressing you against the wall. you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him hard against you through his jeans. the friction made you whimper.
"you're so responsive," he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck. "knew you would be. knew you'd fall apart the second i touched you."
"don't flatter yourself."
he bit your neck, hard enough to mark. "y/n, tell me to stop."
you didn't.
his hands roamed your body, sliding under your shirt, thumbs brushing over your bra. you arched into his touch, head falling back against the wall. his mouth followed, sucking dark marks into your skin, and you gasped when his hand wrapped around your throat.
he didn't squeeze hard, just enough to hold you there, pinned, his thumb stroking your pulse point. "look at you," he whispered, watching your eyes flutter. "so pretty when you're helpless. want me to choke you properly, princess? want me to cut off your air while i make you come?"
"yes," you breathed, the pressure making your head spin in the best way.
he applied a little more pressure, just enough to make your breath hitch, and grinned against your lips. "such a good girl. taking what i give you. imagine if i had you naked right now, my hand around your throat while i fuck you raw. you'd like that, wouldn't you? being completely under my control?"
you nodded as much as you could, pinned against the wall by his body and his hand.
"can't wait," he growled, grinding harder against you. "can't wait to get you alone and ruin you properly."
and then the door opened.
"time's up!" sunoo sang, sounding far too cheerful.
you both froze. jay's forehead dropped to your shoulder, his breathing ragged against your neck. you untangled yourself from him, straightening your clothes with shaking hands, trying to look normal, trying to remember how to breathe.
sunoo's eyes widened as he took in the scene. jay's swollen lips, your messed up hair, the hickey blooming dark on your neck. "wow," he said, stepping back. "okay then. didn't expect that. carry on."
you pushed past him, face burning. jay followed, and you didn't look at him as you rejoined the circle, but you could feel everyone's eyes on you, curious and knowing.
mina grabbed your hand. "what happened, y/n?"
"nothing," you lied, your voice rough.
she didn't believe you, but she let it go, though her eyes kept darting between you and jay with increasing interest.
the game continued, but you couldn't focus. jake spun and landed on heeseung, and they actually went into the closet. when they came out, jake's shirt was buttoned wrong and heeseung wouldn't meet anyone's eyes, his cheeks flushed pink. sunoo and sunghoon exchanged knowing looks, smug and satisfied.
you tried to focus on the game, on the conversation, on anything but the way your lips still tingled, the way your neck throbbed where he'd bitten you. but every time you looked up, jay was watching you. dark eyes tracking your movements, lingering on your mouth, on the mark he'd left on your neck.
it was disorienting. you'd spent months hating him, or trying to, and now all you could think about was the weight of his hand on your throat, the way he'd looked at you like you were the only thing in the world.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
the party started winding down around two am. people were leaving in groups, calling ubers, stumbling out into the night in various states of disrepair. you were in the kitchen, pouring yourself some water with hands that still weren't quite steady, when you felt him behind you.
"still hate me?" jay asked quietly, close enough that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.
you turned. he was closer than you expected, close enough that you had to tilt your head back to look at him, close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.
"still figuring it out," you admitted.
he smiled. it was different from his usual smirk. softer, more genuine, with a hint of vulnerability that made your chest ache. "can i drive you home?"
"my friends-"
"already left. i saw mina leave with jungwon twenty minutes ago. they looked pretty cozy, actually."
you checked your phone. three texts from mina
great. abandoned by your best friend for a boy. the betrayal.
"fine," you said, setting down your cup. "but if you murder me, i'm haunting you. and i'll be a very annoying ghost."
"fair enough," he said, that soft smile still playing at his lips. "i'd expect nothing less."
his car was nice. black, sleek, smelled like him, that woody cologne filling the enclosed space. you slid into the passenger seat, suddenly nervous now that you were alone with him. the closet had been one thing. adrenaline and darkness and the game. this was real. this was you choosing to be here, choosing him.
he started the engine but didn't pull out immediately. "can i be honest with you?"
"depends."
"i don't actually hate you. i never did. i just... didn't know how to talk to you. so i picked fights instead. it was stupid. i'm stupid."
you stared at him. "that's the dumbest thing i've ever heard."
"i know. i'm an idiot."
"yeah," you agreed, but you were smiling. "you are."
he reached over, hand finding your thigh, warm and heavy. "can i take you home? actually take you home? not just drop you off?"
your heart hammered against your ribs. "yes."
the drive was quiet, his hand never leaving your leg. he squeezed occasionally, thumb tracing patterns on your inner thigh, higher and higher, and you shifted in your seat, already wet again just from his touch, from the memory of his mouth on yours.
when you got to your apartment, you led him inside without a word. the moment the door closed, he was on you, pressing you against the wall, his mouth finding yours with a hunger that made your knees weak.
"bedroom," he demanded, his voice rough.
"this way."
he followed, and when you turned to face him in your room, he crowded you against the door immediately. his mouth found yours, hungrier than before, like the closet had just been an appetizer and he was starving for the main course.
"been thinking about you since we got out," he mumbled against your lips, his hands already pulling at your shirt. "couldn't focus on anything else. wanted to drag you back in there. wanted to push you to your knees right there in front of everyone."
"why didn't you?"
"patience," he said, though his hands were anything but patient, pulling at your clothes with desperate urgency. "wanted to do this right. wanted to take my time with you."
he stripped you slowly, worshipfully, murmuring praise with every inch of skin he revealed. "look at you. so fucking beautiful. can't believe i get to see this. can't believe you're letting me."
you pulled at his shirt, wanting him bare too. he let you, helping you undo the buttons, and then his chest was pressed against yours, warm and solid and perfect. he was lean muscle and smooth skin, and you couldn't stop touching him, mapping the planes of his body with greedy hands.
"on the bed," he ordered, his voice dropping lower.
you obeyed, lying back against the pillows. he crawled over you, kissing down your body, lingering at your breasts, sucking your nipples into his mouth until you were arching off the bed, then moving lower, to your stomach, the waistband of your jeans.
"jay-"
"patience," he said again, but there was a smile in his voice, dark and teasing.
he undid your jeans, pulling them down along with your underwear. you were bare before him, exposed and vulnerable, and he just looked at you for a long moment, his gaze heavy and reverent.
"perfect," he whispered. "absolutely fucking perfect."
he spread your legs, settling between them, and then his mouth was on you.
you cried out, hands flying to his hair, gripping tight. he was skilled, relentless, licking into you with long strokes that had you writhing, your hips bucking against his mouth. he sucked your clit, flicking it with his tongue, and you gasped his name, over and over like a prayer.
"that's it," he encouraged, looking up at you with dark eyes, his chin wet with you. "let me hear you. want to know what i do to you. want to hear how good i make you feel."
he added a finger, curling it inside you, and you moaned louder, your head falling back against the pillows. he built you up slowly, torturously, bringing you to the edge and then backing off until you were begging, your hands tugging at his hair.
"please, jay, please-"
"please what?"
"let me come. please. i need to come."
he sucked your clit harder, finger moving faster, curling to hit that spot inside you, and you came with a cry, back arching off the bed, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. he rode you through it, gentle now, kissing your thighs, your hip bones, back up to your mouth.
"taste yourself," he said, kissing you deep, and you could, the faint sweetness on his tongue, and it made you shiver, made you want more.
he pulled back, standing to undress fully. you watched, propped up on your elbows, as he revealed himself. lean muscle, defined abs, a trail of hair leading down to where he was hard and heavy against his stomach.
your eyes widened. he was big, thick and long, curved slightly against his stomach, the tip already wet with precome. way bigger than you expected. he caught your expression and smirked, wrapping his hand around himself and giving a slow stroke.
"see something you like?" he teased.
"you're huge," you blurted out, then felt your face heat up.
he laughed, low and pleased. "don't worry, doll. i'll make it fit. gonna stretch you out so good. gonna make you feel every inch."
he climbed back over you, and you felt him against your thigh, heavy and hot. "touch it," he ordered.
you reached between you, fingers wrapping around his length. your hand couldn't close fully around him, and he groaned at the contact, hips bucking into your touch, his eyes falling closed.
"that's it," he encouraged. "feel what you do to me. been hard since the closet. since i first tasted you. since i first saw you tonight in that dress."
he positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing against you, teasing. the head of him felt huge against your folds, and you felt a flutter of nerves mixed with anticipation, your body already sensitive from your first orgasm.
"want you so bad," he admitted. "thought about this so many times. fucking you until you can't remember why you hated me. until you can't remember your own name."
"do it," you challenged. "fuck me, jay. i want to feel you."
he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust. he was massive, stretching you wide, filling you deeper than anyone had before. you whimpered at the fullness, at the slight burn of being stretched around him, your nails digging into his back.
"fuck," he gritted out, forehead dropping to your shoulder. "so tight. so warm. taking me so well, princess. feel how big i am inside you? feel how perfectly you fit around me?"
he kept pushing until he was fully seated, his hips flush against yours. you felt impossibly full, stuffed, his cock hitting places you didn't know could be reached. you could feel your walls fluttering around him, adjusting to his size.
"so deep," you gasped, your voice shaky.
"that's it," he praised, starting to move, slow and deep. "gonna fuck you properly now. gonna make you feel every inch. gonna ruin you for anyone else."
he started moving, dragging out every thrust so you felt every vein, every ridge of him. you wrapped your legs around him, trying to pull him deeper, and he groaned, his control slipping.
"greedy," he accused. "want more of this big cock already? you can take it?"
"yes," you whimpered. "please, jay, give me more. fuck me harder."
he picked up the pace, snapping his hips harder, faster. the sound of skin on skin filled the room, mixed with your moans and his ragged breathing. with every thrust, he hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur, that made you see stars.
"feel that?" he grunted. "feel how deep i am? gonna ruin this pretty pussy for anyone else. gonna make you addicted to this dick."
"already am," you admitted. "only you. only your big cock, jay."
"that's right. only me. say it again."
"only you. i'm yours. please, don't stop."
he groaned, thrusting harder, losing his rhythm. the bed was hitting the wall, and you didn't care if your neighbors heard, didn't care about anything but the way he was making you feel.
he shifted your leg over his shoulder, changing the angle, and suddenly he was even deeper, hitting your cervix with every thrust. the stretch was almost too much, bordering on pain, but it mixed with the pleasure until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
"too deep," you gasped, but you were pulling him closer, wanting more, your body greedy and desperate.
"you can take it," he soothed, though his voice was strained. "such a good girl. taking all of me. no one's ever taken me this deep, princess. made for me. this pussy was made for my cock."
he reached between you, thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight circles. the dual sensation was overwhelming, his size filling you completely while his fingers worked you higher, pushing you toward another edge.
"gonna come," you warned. "jay, i'm gonna-"
"come on my cock," he commanded. "come hard, let me feel you squeeze me. milk this big dick, princess. show me how good i make you feel."
you came with a scream, back arching off the bed, your orgasm intensified by the way he filled you completely. your walls clenched around him, rhythmic and tight, and he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic.
"fuck, that's it. squeezing me so tight. fuck, you're so sensitive now, aren't you? can feel you fluttering around me."
but he didn't stop. he kept thrusting, slower now but still deep, still hitting that spot that made you gasp. you tried to squirm away, oversensitive, but he held your hips firm.
"jay, wait," you gasped. "i can't- it's too much-"
"shh," he soothed, his voice dark and commanding. "i know, princess. i know it's a lot. but you can take it. you're gonna take more for me. gonna make you come again. gonna overstimulate this pretty pussy until you're crying."
he kept moving, his thumb still circling your clit, and you whimpered, the sensation too intense, bordering on painful but somehow still good, still building you up again.
"look at you," he murmured, watching your face. "taking it so well. so sensitive and still taking my cock. such a good girl for me. gonna come again, aren't you? gonna come on my cock even though it's too much?"
you nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity. he was relentless, fucking you through the oversensitivity, his cock dragging against your walls, his thumb working your clit with steady pressure.
"come on," he encouraged. "let go, princess. come for me again. i want to feel you. want to feel you squeeze me dry."
you came again with a sob, your second orgasm crashing into you harder than the first, your whole body shaking, your vision going white at the edges. your walls clenched around him, spasming tight, and he cursed, his hips stuttering.
"fuck, fuck, that's it. taking it so well. milking my cock so good. one more, princess. give me one more."
"i can't," you whimpered, shaking your head. "jay, i can't, it's too much-"
"you can," he insisted, his voice firm but gentle. "one more for me. let me feel you come one more time. want to feel you completely wrecked."
he adjusted his angle, hitting a different spot inside you, and you cried out, the sensation overwhelming. he was fucking you slower now, deep and deliberate, making you feel every inch, every pulse of him inside you.
"please," you begged, not sure if you were begging for him to stop or keep going.
"that's it," he praised. "beg me. beg me to let you come."
"please, jay, please let me come. please make me come again."
he thrust harder, his thumb pressing down on your clit, and you came with a scream, your third orgasm ripping through you, your body convulsing, your walls clenching so tight around him that he groaned, his control finally snapping.
he thrust twice more, hard and deep, burying himself to the hilt, and then he was coming too, spilling inside you with a guttural moan, his cock pulsing, filling you up. you felt every twitch, every pulse of him, the warmth spreading through you.
for a long moment, neither of you moved. he stayed inside you, still half-hard and huge, his weight comforting above you, his breathing ragged against your neck. when he finally pulled out, you felt empty, aching, already missing the stretch of him, your body trembling from the aftershocks.
"shh," he soothed, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your lips soft and gentle. "i've got you. you're okay. you did so well, princess. took so much for me. so good."
you were still shaking, your body oversensitive and spent, tears sliding down your temples from the intensity of it all. he wiped them away with his thumb, his touch tender now, completely different from the roughness of before.
"stay here," he whispered. "don't move. i'll be right back."
he disappeared into your bathroom, and you heard water running. you lay there, boneless and trembling, your body feeling like it was floating. when he came back, he had a warm washcloth in his hand, gentle and damp.
"open up for me," he said softly, and you let him part your legs, let him clean you up with careful, tender strokes. the cloth was warm, soothing against your sensitive flesh, and you whimpered at the contact, still too sensitive.
"i know," he murmured. "i know, princess. almost done. just want to take care of you. want you clean and comfortable."
he cleaned you thoroughly, gently, his touch reverent. when he was done, he dropped the cloth in your hamper and climbed back onto the bed, pulling you into his arms. you went willingly, curling into his chest, your ear pressed against his heartbeat, which was still racing.
"you okay?" he asked quietly, his hand stroking your hair.
"yeah," you whispered. "that was... intense."
"too intense?" he asked, and you could hear the worry in his voice.
"no," you said quickly, looking up at him. "no, it was perfect. i just... i've never come like that before. multiple times. i didn't know i could."
he smiled, soft and proud. "you were incredible. so responsive. so willing to take more for me. thank you for trusting me."
"thank you for stopping when i really needed it," you said. "for checking in."
"always," he promised. "i'll always take care of you. after, during, always."
he reached down, pulling the blanket over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders. you were still naked, pressed against his warm skin, and you felt safe, cared for, completely content in a way you hadn't expected.
"can i stay?" he asked, his voice hesitant in a way you'd never heard from him before. "i mean... i can go if you want. but i'd like to stay. hold you while you sleep."
"stay," you said, curling closer. "please."
he relaxed, his arm tightening around you. "okay. i'll stay."
you lay there in the dark, listening to his breathing slow, feeling his heartbeat steady against your cheek. his hand traced lazy patterns on your back, soothing and rhythmic, and you felt yourself drifting, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.
"hey," he whispered, just as you were about to fall asleep.
"mm?"
"i meant what i said. i don't hate you. i think i might be... really fond of you, actually. in a non-annoying way."
you smiled against his chest. "i'm fond of you too. in a slightly less annoying way."
he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "go to sleep, princess. i've got you."
"you're not going to call me princess forever, are you?"
"probably," he admitted. "you make it easy. so pretty and responsive and mine."
"hm," you murmured, too tired to argue, not really wanting to anyway.
"sleep," he whispered, kissing your hair. "i'll be here when you wake up."
you fell asleep tangled together, his arms around you, your legs intertwined, his heartbeat lulling you under. and for the first time, you didn't mind the idea of morning, didn't mind the idea of waking up next to him, of seeing where this could go.
the last thing you felt before sleep took you completely was his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and his whispered words: "mine. you're mine now."
and you were. completely, irrevocably his. and he was yours. and somehow, in the span of seven minutes in a closet and one night in your bed, everything had changed. the boy you'd hated was now the boy you were falling for, and you wouldn't have had it any other way.
you slept deeply, dreamlessly, safe in his arms, and when morning came, he was still there, watching you with soft eyes, and you knew that this was just the beginning.
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an✧˖°. i lowk wrote this while listening to chaconne, fever, and daydream... please any feedback is welcomed!! good or bad, just be respectful. reblogs are always welcome. PLEASE comment!! i love seeing peoples reactions!
