CLOUDED WANT
BOTTLE GIRL SPINOFF - read Bottle Girl here! !!!
PAIRING - Leehan x Jiyeon (FMC)
Would recommend reading bottle girl first to understand context.
FEATURING : Bottle girl universe characters!! Taesan +y/n (renamed Areum for the spinoff), Jaehyun, Sungho, Shinyu.
CONTENT - smut, jealousy, crack, 420, mentions of familial negligence and abuse. Alcohol consumption
Read warnings under plot!
PLOT : when a newly added face to the friend group leads to a one night stand. Jiyeon swells in self doubt and draws on her usual cold shut off when she’s hurt, can she fix herself again?
WARNINGS : MDNI!!!! Weed , vaping, heavy alcohol consumption, jealousy, misunderstood intentions, breeding kink go brrr, p in v, spitting, mentions of childhood familial abuse and negligence.
——-——-:-⋆｡˚𓆝｡˚⋆𓂃 ⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚𓂃⋆｡˚𓆝｡˚⋆-:————-
Smoke ribbons through the games room and against my wishes. Again…he’s changed the music from my tried and true R&B playlist to lo-fi study beats.
Honestly, in the three days i’ve known Leehan, he’s managed to piss me off in every single interaction. Either by mocking me outright or by completely destabilising some of my genuinely amazing theories.
“I mean, I’m very flexible,” Leehan says, one eyebrow raised.
I actually flinch before laughing. “Thanks, because we all needed to know how flexible you are in bed.”
I roll my eyes when he follows it with, “I can show you.” Areum and Taesan do absolutely nothing to help my argument.
“Get a room,” I all but whisper, and of course Leehan hears.
“Or we could get a room instead,” he says, and somehow I don’t notice he’s closer than before.
I grab the nearest pillow and launch it at his head, taking a deep inhale of the joint in my hand. If I had to guess, maybe number four of the day.
He recovers slowly, laughing, checking to make sure Taesan is still fully distracted with my best friend before looking back at me. “I’m only kidding, love.”
My expression almost falters at the pet name, but I recover fast. I look at him through hooded eyes. He is hot, but I attract way too many bad experiences to know better.
Maybe just one time?
You look at him again, dragging the same joint deep. His expression is calm, almost resigned, like this is all familiar territory. That ease rolls off him in waves, even though up until Saturday you’d never met him. It feels comfortably dangerous.
When you glance back at Areum and Taesan on the couch, practically fused together, you make a decision.
“Okay, I’m down,” you say, quiet enough that only Leehan can hear.
He picks up on it immediately. A smirk creeps in, subtle but unmistakable. “Mm. Okay. Let me find a way for us to go.”
You can almost see the gears turning as he starts calculating an excuse to get you both out of the games room.
Leehan suddenly straightens, squinting dramatically toward the hallway. “Wait.”
You follow his gaze, already confused. “What?”
“Do you feel that?”
Areum blinks. “Feel what?”
Leehan’s eyes widen. “The vibes. The fairies.”
Taesan snorts before he can stop himself.
Catching on, grabbing a couple more joints, you’re on your feet, solemn as anything, committing fully to the bit. “Yeah. They’re calling. From the other room.”
“Calling?” Areum repeats, deadpan.
“Urgently,” Leehan nods. “Might be a whole situation. Could take a while.”
You have to physically hold back laughter as the two of you start toward your usual room in Areum’s house, leaving scoffs and silent cheers behind. Unbeknownst to you, Taesan and Areum had been waiting for the two of you to cave, exchanging looks every time the tension edged a little too close to snapping.
As the door clicks shut behind you, you pass the joints to Leehan before cracking the bay window, kicking off your slippers and climbing onto the bed beside him. He lights it and takes a slow inhale.
You can’t help but laugh. “Fairies, really?”
He grins, clearly proud of himself passing it to you “They totally believed it. I could so be a cult leader.”
You laugh again, shaking your head. “Oh yeah. Tooooootally.”
Something in his eyes shifts as he watches your lips while you take a drag of the joint.
“Do you want to try something?” he asks, his voice different, softer in a way you haven’t heard before.
“Sure,” you say without much hesitation.
He takes the joint from your fingers and leans closer. “Open your mouth, love.”
You do. He inhales, then leans in until he’s close enough that you can feel his breath. Smoke spills from his mouth in a slow, cloudy ribbon, straight into yours. You inhale it, hold it, then exhale.
When you look back at him, he’s still watching you, expression unreadable
“Good girl,” he says when he realises you’ve caught him staring at your lips.
You swallow, already deciding how this is going to play out. “My turn.”
He watches closely as you climb onto his lap, straddling him. His hands settle on your thighs, lazy, like he’s deliberately not claiming more than that. You inhale, then lean in. He parts his lips just enough for the smoke to pass, and you let it drift into him.
You don’t pull back. Neither does he.
Somewhere in the movement, your shorts ride up, baring more skin than you meant to. You don’t notice until his hands shift, warm and sure, coming to rest on your exposed ass.
Staring at each other this close makes it impossible not to notice how attractive he is. You can feel how toned he is beneath your hands, fingers tracing lazy lines across his abs. The thought hits you fully formed.
You shift slightly passing the joint to him before reaching off to the side for your phone. “I’m taking a photo, because that is hot.”
He doesn’t protest. Instead, he draws more smoke into his mouth, his free hand sliding to your back and guiding you closer. He exhales a soft, dancing cloud into your mouth just as you snap the picture, the moment caught exactly as it feels.
You lean back as you exhale toward the window, settling a little heavier on him while you check the photos. Your pulse kicks as you squirm slightly when they turn out exactly how you imagined.
A low, strained groan slips from Leehan as his head tips back. “Stop moving, love,” he mutters, breath tight. “You’re about to make this difficult.”
Realisation hits all at once. You still, biting your lip as you clock exactly what all your shifting and teasing has been doing to him. The air between you goes heavy, charged
Still very much on his lap, fueled by the purple haze coursing throughout your body, you lean in. “Never said I wanted easy.”
Your words ignite something feral in Leehan, his toned body tensing beneath you like coiled steel, every muscle rippling under his shirt as he grips your hips harder. The purple haze swirls in your mind, turning the dim room into a throbbing mix of colors and heat, making your skin buzz with electric need , your thighs spread wide over his lap, panties already soaked from his smoke swap idea grinding down against the thick bulge of his cock straining in his jeans.
Leehan's eyes flash with dark hunger as he watches you, his brown hair falling messily over his forehead. He tsks “all this and i haven’t even kissed you yet” he purrs, voice rough and commanding, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck and yank you down into a bruising kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, dominating every stroke, tasting of smoke and sin while the haze amplifies every sensation, the wet slide of his lips, his other hand palming your ass shamelessly, You match his intensity, sucking on his tongue, your nails exploring his shoulders under his shirt as you rock your hips faster, chasing the friction that makes your clit throb.
He breaks the kiss with a wet pop, smirking up at you. “Fuck, so pretty” he breathes out, His free hand cracks down on your ass, the sharp smack echoing in the room, sending a jolt of pain-laced pleasure straight to your core. You gasp, arching into it, loving the sting as it spreads heat across your skin. “Mhmm” you moan, grinding harder, feeling his hard length twitch against you. The haze makes it all feel surreal, like your body's on fire, every nerve screaming for more, no thoughts about the consequences.
Leehan chuckles darkly, his fingers kneading the flesh of your ass , squeezing hard enough to bruise. 'Good girl. But I want you screaming my name.' In one fluid motion, his toned arms flex as he moves, lifting you effortlessly with him, your legs wrapping around his waist. He lays you flat on your back, the purple rush making the world tilt and spin in the best way, your head light and pussy aching. stripping off his shirt to reveal his chiseled abs and defined chest, every inch of him sculpted and powerful.
You scramble up to your knees pulling your shorts off, tugging at his belt, but he bats your hands away, in full control. 'On your back, love. Spread those legs for me.' You obey, the haze urging you on, no room for second thoughts or regrets, you want this raw and reckless. He shoves his jeans down, his thick cock springing free, veined and throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip. Your mouth waters, but he climbs over you, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand while the other yanks your panties aside.
'Look at that pretty pussy, all wet and ready,' he taunts, rubbing the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing your entrance. “You want it hmm” he says sliding up and down your glistening folds “Fill you up with my cum until you're bred full” , the dirty words making your walls clench in anticipation. You buck up, trying to take him in, but he smacks your thigh hard. 'Patience, You'll take what I give.'
The haze turns everything hazy and intense as he thrusts in suddenly, stretching your pussy wide around his girth. You cry out, the burn mixing with bliss, your body high and hypersensitive. He doesn't hold back, pounding into you in missionary, his hips slamming forward with brutal force. The headboard bangs against the wall
thud, thud, thud
in rhythm with his thrusts, the sound fueling the wildness. 'Fuck, love, you're so tight. Squeezing my cock like you need it to breed you,' he grunts, releasing your wrists to snake his hand around your throat, squeezing slightly as you whimper under his control.
You match his pace, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his toned back. 'Harder please” you beg, the purple haze making you bold, every slam of his cock hitting that spot inside you that builds pressure fast. He obliges, his pace relentless, sweat glistening on his muscles as he drives into you. 'That's it, love. Cum on my dick. Let me feel you milk me.'
The first orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your pussy spasming around him, walls fluttering as you scream his name. Waves of pleasure ripple through your body, the haze intensifying it until stars burst behind your eyelids. But he doesn't stop, flipping your legs over his shoulders to go deeper, the headboard banging louder. 'One more, love. Gonna make you cum again before I breed this pussy.' His hand slips between you, thumb circling your clit roughly while he leans in to kiss you, the eye contact ignites a deeper fire in you, opening your mouth he doesn’t need guidance as he spits and watches you swallow, the mix pushing you over the edge a second time.
Your second climax hits harder, body shaking, juices soaking his cock as you clench down. “Mmm fuck please..want..your cum please” you babble out broken, no cares about tomorrow, just the raw need pulsing through you. He growls, thrusts erratic now, his toned body tensing. “Take it all, love.”With a final, deep slam, he buries himself to the hilt, cock pulsing as hot ropes of cum flood your pussy, his breeding fantasy coming true in the heat of the moment.
You both collapse, panting, making the afterglow feel endless. His hand strokes your cheek as he stays inside you, plugging his seed. he murmurs “such pretty noises” and you smile regrets be damned
After resting just long enough to stop panting, and careful not to disturb anyone if Taesan and Areum are still in the games room, you sneak across the hall to the bathroom.
When you make it back to the room, you find Leehan sitting up against the headboard puffing the half lit joint “I want the photos,” he says, eyes flicking to you as you return.
“Mmhmm, I’ll send them, but I need your number to do that,” you reply, dangling your phone toward him.
“That’s supposed to be my line,” he mutters, but he takes the phone anyway, adds his number, and names the contact sexiest fish ever.
You take your phone back, laughing at the newly created contact, and send him the photos.
Both of you get up and check your appearances before heading back down the hall. You try to hide the way you’re limping, but of course Areum notices. Taesan speaks first. “So, how were the fairies?”
You blush hard as Leehan deadpans, “Great, actually.”
Areum all but chokes, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god, I— I can’t even look at you.”
You quickly find a comfortable spot to sit and continue smoking, hyper-aware of the new source of attention coming from the brown-haired man seated beside you.
Thursday 29th October.
You’re about to take another bite of your burrito when your phone dings.
Sexiest fish ever 🐠 : wyd?
Ji 🐈 : just out at lunch with a friend 🌯
Sexiest fish ever 🐠 : Areum?
Ji 🐈: i do have other friends outside of them yk?
Sexiest fish ever 🐠 : mm if you say so
You let out a quiet laugh, more exasperated than amused, and flip your phone face down on the table.
“Trouble?” Shinyu asks, glancing up from his food.
“Something like that,” you reply. “Someone new.”
Shinyu hums knowingly. “Figures.”
“That was fast.”
He shrugs. “You’ve always been consistent.”
You narrow your eyes. “That’s not a compliment.”
“It’s not meant to be,” he says easily, then adds, “You attract bad people. You always have.”
You scoff. “That feels unfair.”
“I’m not blaming you,” Shinyu says. “I’m stating an observable pattern. Remember elementary school? Middle school? That weird phase right after graduation?”
“Okay, first of all, rude. Second, those were isolated incidents.”
“They were consecutive,” he corrects. “With no healthy recovery period.”
You reach for your drink, stalling. “This one isn’t even that bad.”
Shinyu raises an eyebrow. “Your phone has buzzed three times in under a minute.”
As if on cue, it vibrates again against the table.
You don’t look at it.
Shinyu sighs. “See? They always start subtle. Curious. Possessive-adjacent. Then suddenly you’re explaining yourself for existing.”
You grimace. “You make it sound so bleak.”
“I lived it from the sidelines,” he replies. “Someone had to notice.”
You shake your head, half-smiling despite yourself. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re predictable,” he says, softening. “Which is why I’m asking.”
You look up at him. “Asking what?”
“Are you actually happy,” Shinyu says, “or are you just used to dealing with people like that?”
Your phone buzzes again.
You turn it screen down without reading it.
“I’m thinking about it,” you say quietly.
Shinyu nods, accepting that for now.
“So,” you add, forcing a lighter tone, “are you coming to the club this weekend or not?”
He smiles. “Nice deflection. Maybe. I’ve got tutoring Friday night and Saturday morning, but if we finish early, I might.”
“That’s still not a yes.”
“It’s a hopeful maybe.”
You laugh, the tension easing just a little.
Locking the door behind you, you kick your shoes off and let them fall wherever, the quiet of your apartment settling in now that you’re alone. The post-food haze hits all at once. You’re halfway to your bed, already planning a nap, when you finally check your phone.
Six unread messages.
All from him.
Sexiest fish ever 🐠 : so ur busy
Sexiest fish ever 🐠 : didn’t realise lunch took this long
Sexiest fish ever 🐠 : hope ur having fun
Sexiest fish ever 🐠 : lol don’t worry about it
Sexiest fish ever 🐠 : wasn’t that serious
Sexiest fish ever 🐠 : enjoy ur night
You stare at the screen, brow furrowing. Each message reads more careless than the last, like he’s shrugging through the phone, but the timing gives him away. Too fast. Too many. You scroll back up, rereading them, trying to work out when the tone shifted.
Confused, you toss the phone onto the bed and flop down beside it. The ceiling blurs slightly as you blink.
After a minute, boredom wins. You grab your phone again and open Instagram, thumb lazily flicking through stories.
Areum and taesan watching movies at home. Jaehyun in the library, Someone’s concert clip.
Then his name appears.
Your stomach drops before the story even loads.
23m ago. It’s dim lighting, clearly taken at night. Music in the background. His thigh fills most of the frame, familiar jeans, and then you see it. A girl’s legs draped comfortably over his lap, bare skin against denim, her toes flexing slightly like she belongs there.
No faces. No explanation. Just enough.
You feel stupid for how quickly it clicks.
He liked the idea of you being an option, not a choice.
Your chest tightens, regret crawling in behind it. Not heartbreak exactly. Something sharper. Consequences you hadn’t fully considered until now.
You lock your phone and let it fall beside you again, staring at the ceiling, restless energy replacing the sleepiness from earlier. Lying here alone suddenly feels unbearable.
You don’t want to think. You don’t want to analyse. You just want to feel wanted without conditions, without mixed signals, without
pretending you don’t care.
Your phone lights up again.
Not him.
Someone else.
You glance at the screen, lips pressing together as a slow, dangerous idea settles in.
Maybe a distraction is exactly what you need tonight.
Waking up on Friday morning was anything but peaceful. You decided against ruining your mental health further with another one-night stand just to get over the last. You rolled lazily onto your back, scrolling through your phone, only to spot an unread message from Leehan.
Sexiest fish ever 🐠: hey wyd today?
You rolled your eyes and typed back.
Ji 🐈: nothing.
You chewed your lip as you hit send, then forced yourself out of bed. If you stayed there any longer, you’d start overthinking, and he was the last thing you needed taking up space in your head.
Opting to stay in and chill before chaos incarnate took full form tomorrow, you swaddled yourself in a blanket and assembled a carefully selected pile of snacks. Curled up in the living room, you lazily scrolled through Disney+ recommendations before settling on Percy Jackson.
You were midway through binging episode four when a call cut straight through your relaxation.
Areum baby ❤️ flashed across the screen as your phone buzzed.
You answered without hesitation. “Hi, love.” You didn’t bother hiding your sleepy, rotting-on-the-couch voice.
“Hi babe, whatcha doin?” she chimed, and the tone told you everything. She was planning something, and you already knew you’d probably go along with it.
“Mm, nothing. Just living in Camp Half-Blood and rotting.”
You sat up on the couch, groaning as your joints protested.
“Let’s go to dinner and maybe drinks.”
It sounded like a question, but coming from her, it definitely was not. More of a you cannot say no, I know where you live situation.
Against your original plans of rotting for the day, you sighed in defeat. “Where and what are we wearing?”
You stretched as she replied, “Let’s try that new place around the corner from Serenade.”
After deciding on the theme for the night, the call ended, and you finally dragged yourself up to start getting ready to go out.
Tying your heel straps mid-calf, you give yourself one final once-over in the mirror. Little black dress, heels, jacket for the cold night breeze.
Keys, wallet, face card. Check, check, and check.
You climb into the Uber, more ready to sleep than to socialise, but who are you to turn down food and drinks mixed with bad decisions and morning regrets. You arrive at the new bistro bar, thank your driver, and step out of the backseat.
Ring ring.
“Hey, I just got here. Where are you?” you ask into the phone.
“We’re inside. Just tell the hostess my name,” she replies.
You nod, then pause.
“We?”
You were under the impression this was a regular girls’ dinner.
“Yeah, I invited Taesan and Leehan. I ordered you a drink as well.”
Great. Of course he’s here. Why wouldn’t he be.
Fuck my life.
You square your shoulders before answering, “Great. I’ll see you in a second.” Ending the call, you move towards the doors.
I am so getting stoned after this, you mutter under your breath.
You find the hostess stand, and she guides you through the restaurant to a booth tucked away on the mezzanine. As you approach, Areum notices immediately.
“Oh my god, thank you. I am always obsessed when you wear this number,” she says, her attention on your figure enough to make you forget the concept of male validation entirely.
Her outburst pulls Taesan and Leehan out of their conversation. Taesan, ever the nice guy, gives you a smile and a casual, “Hi, Ji,” as you settle in beside Leehan. He hasn’t said a word to you, hasn’t even stopped staring.
You decide to ignore it.
“Oh my god, Sex on the Beach,” you say, pulling the drink towards you. “Marry me, please. I’ll treat you good.”
Areum snorts.
Areum’s snort fades into the low hum of conversation, and the table settles into something deceptively normal. Easy laughter, shared plates, stories that drift nowhere important. Leehan and I act like we didn’t sleep together, like it never happened. If Taesan notices anything off, he doesn’t say it.
Leehan slips effortlessly into his usual tone, relaxed and cocky.
“So,” he says, nudging his glass toward the centre, “is this the part of the night where we all admit we’re ordering too much?”
“You like saying that a lot,” Areum replies.
He grins. “Because it’s usually true.”
I keep my focus on the menu, neutral. Unbothered.
Plates start arriving in waves. Pasta, seafood, bowls passed hand to hand. More drinks follow, condensation pooling on the table. The conversation grows louder, warmer. Leehan leans closer than necessary when he speaks, voice dipped just enough to feel private.
“You look good tonight,” he says quietly, eyes lingering.
I don’t meet his gaze. “Thanks.”
“That’s it?” he asks, amused. “No comeback?”
I take a sip of my drink. “Did you ask a question?”
He laughs under his breath, clearly entertained. Taesan is mid-story, Areum fully invested. Neither of them notice the way Leehan’s knee brushes mine under the table, testing.
I stand. “I’m going to vape.”
Outside, the night air is cool against my skin. I breathe out slowly, tension easing as I pull out my vape
“Running away again?”
I don’t turn. “I said vape. Not flee.”
Leehan joins me anyway, leaning against the railing like he owns the space.
“You’re no fun anymore,” he says lightly.
“I’m plenty fun,” I reply. “Just not for you.”
He smiles, unbothered. “You used to like when I pushed.”
I glance at him, calm. “I used to tolerate it.”
There’s a beat. Then he steps closer, voice dropping.
“Still tempting though.”
I take another pull, unfazed. “You mistake familiarity for permission.”
He studies me for a moment, something sharper behind his eyes. Then the grin returns.
“So after dinner,” he says casually, “you want to hang out? Just us.”
I exhale the strawberry cloud and face him fully.
“I’m already booked out with someone,” a obvious lie “But maybe you can ask your girlfriend.”
The smile slips, just briefly.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
I shrug. “That sounds like a conversation for someone else.”
Voices drift out from inside, Areum laughing loudly. I turn back toward the door.
“Food’s waiting,” I say.
This time, I walk in first.
The table is louder now. Glasses clink every few seconds, Areum’s laugh carrying across the booth as she leans too far into Jiyeon’s shoulder.
“Okay i’m not that drunk but has this song not already played like 7 times ?” Areum says, squinting at the speaker like it personally offended her.
“I should be a DJ,” you reply, lifting your drink. “Cheers to that.”
They clink, sloppy and off beat.
Across from you , Leehan nudges his untouched glass further away, already halfway through his second soda. Taesan watches the interaction quietly, elbow resting on the table, eyes flicking between Jiyeon and the growing telltale flush in her cheeks.
“You two are pacing yourselves horribly,” Leehan says.
Areum points at him, nearly missing. “You’re just jealous because you’re sober.”
“I’m not jealous,” he says easily. “I just like remembering my nights.”
Taesan hums in agreement. “Same.”
Jiyeon lets out a laugh that fades too quickly, her fingers tightening around the glass. She stares at the condensation for a second too long.
He likes remembering his nights? I’ll believe it when i see it.
Areum notices immediately. She always does.
“Hey,” she says, voice dropping as she leans in. “You good?”
Jiyeon blinks, then looks up, eyes glassy but sharp in that unfiltered way alcohol brings. She exhales a laugh, short and humorless.
“Ohhhh yeah,” she says. “Just another bad decision I’m now realising.”
The table goes quieter.
Leehan’s smile softens. “what decision?”
Jiyeon waves him off, already shaking her head. “Nope. Not sober-conversation material.”
Taesan shifts closer, forearm brushing the edge of the table near hers. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”
Areum frowns, protective even through the haze. “But if you do want to talk, I’m right here.”
Jiyeon looks between them, lips pressing together like she’s deciding whether to pull back or lean in. She sighs, resting her head briefly against Areum’s shoulder.
“Can someone just promise me I won’t regret tonight more than I already do?”
Leehan raises his hand. “I can promise snacks and a safe ride home.” Nope. Not happening. Not with you
Taesan nods. “And zero judgment.”
Deciding not to show your cards you let out a small laugh, softer this time. “Okay,” . “That helps. A little.”
Hours pass, multiple drinks empty, Restaurant noise low, calmer.
Taesan clocks it before anyone else says it.
Jiyeon is drunk drunk. The loose kind. The quiet-before-the-fall kind.
She is slouched into the couch cushions like gravity has personally offended her, eyes half-lidded, glass abandoned on the table sometime ago. Areum sits beside her, still upright, still coherent, watching Jiyeon with a crease between her brows.
“Alright,” Taesan says, already standing. “We’re calling it. Home time.”
Areum nods easily. “Yeah. I’m good to go.”
Jiyeon hums something noncommittal, head tipping back against the couch.
Taesan grabs his jacket. “I’ll take you home Angel.”
As they move toward the door, Areum pauses, turning back. She fishes her phone out, squints at the screen, then sighs.
“I can’t,” she admits, embarrassed. “I can barely see straight. I’ll book Jiyeon an Uber when I get home.”
Leehan, leaning against the counter, straightens. “I can drive her.”
Areum looks relieved immediately. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “It’s fine.”
She rattles off the address, repeating it twice to be safe. Leehan nods, commits it to memory.
“Thank you,” Areum says, genuine. Then quieter, “She’s just… been having a time.”
Leehan doesn’t comment. He just nods again.
The car ride is quiet at first.
Jiyeon sits in the passenger seat, seatbelt on but slouched sideways, forehead resting against the cool glass of the window. Streetlights slide over her face in soft intervals. Leehan keeps his eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel, jaw tight in a way he hasn’t noticed himself doing.
“You okay?” he asks gently.
“Mmm,” she murmurs. A beat. Then, “I make really bad choices.”
Leehan glances over briefly. Her eyes are closed.
“In men,” she adds, as if clarifying. “And in life. Mostly men though.”
He exhales quietly through his nose. “Yeah?”
She nods against the window, the motion clumsy. “It’s like I see the red flags and go, wow. That looks warm.”
There’s a thin, humourless laugh that escapes her. It fades quickly.
Leehan waits. He doesn’t push. Doesn’t fill the space.
“Anyway,” she continues after a moment, voice softer now. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. I’m fine.”
He hums in response. Noncommittal. Safe.
The rest of the drive passes in fragments. Half-finished thoughts. Mumbled sentences that trail off before landing anywhere. Leehan listens without dissecting, without asking the question sitting heavy in his chest.
They pull up outside her apartment building.
Jiyeon blinks, disoriented. “Oh.”
She opens the door too fast, nearly tipping forward. Leehan is out of the car immediately, a hand steadying her elbow.
“Careful,” he says.
She laughs weakly. “I’m graceful.”
The walk to the entrance is slow. Jiyeon stumbles once, then again, shoes scuffing against concrete. Leehan keeps close, guiding without gripping, his hand hovering at her back.
Inside, she pats at her jacket pockets. Once. Twice. Her movements grow frantic.
“Nope. Nope. Nope.” She frowns at her bag like it has personally betrayed her. “I had them. I swear I had them.”
“It’s okay,” Leehan says calmly. “Take your time.”
She does not take her time.
“I always lose things,” she mutters, voice wobbling. “Keys. Phones. People.”
That last word slips out quieter than the rest.
Leehan reaches gently into the outer pocket of her bag, the one she hasn’t checked yet. His fingers close around cold metal.
“Jiyeon,” he says softly.
She looks up, eyes glassy, unfocused. “Yeah?”
He holds the keys up between them.
Her shoulders sag in immediate defeat. “Oh.”
For a moment she just stares at them, then lets out a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh and almost like a sob.
“See?” she says, voice small. “Bad choices.”
Leehan hands the keys back to her carefully, his fingers brushing hers for half a second longer than necessary.
He stands close as Jiyeon fumbles with the lock, keys clinking too loud in the quiet hallway. She misses the slot once, twice, groans under her breath.
“Stupid— hold on—” she mutters.
“Here,” Leehan says softly, steadying her wrist just enough to guide the key in.
The door is halfway turned when another door down the hall creaks open.
“Oh!” an older woman steps out, cardigan wrapped tight around her shoulders, eyes bright with recognition. “Jiyeon-ah? Is that you?”
Jiyeon freezes, then turns, smile breaking across her face instantly. “Mrs. Han.”
The woman peers between them, takes in Leehan’s hand near Jiyeon’s, the late hour, the careful closeness. Her lips curve knowingly.
“Is this your boyfriend, Yeonie?”
Jiyeon bursts into laughter, loud and unfiltered, leaning back against the door for balance.
“Nope,” she says easily, waving a hand. “He has a girlfriend already.”
The words land sharper than her laugh suggests.
Leehan’s hand drops back to his side. His expression doesn’t change much, but there’s a flicker, quick and gone, like something braced for impact.
Mrs. Han blinks, surprised. “Oh! I see.”
Jiyeon is still smiling, but it wobbles at the edges. She focuses very hard on the key again, twisting it with more force than necessary.
“He’s just being nice,” she adds, quieter now. “Making sure I got home.”
Mrs. Han nods, already retreating. “That’s good. You should rest, dear. Don’t stay up too late.”
“Goodnight,” Jiyeon sings softly.
The neighbour disappears back into her apartment, door clicking shut.
The hallway falls silent again.
Jiyeon finally gets the door open. She pauses with one hand on the handle, shoulders slumping like something has drained out of her.
“Sorry,” she says, not looking at him. “She’s… nosy.”
“It’s okay,” Leehan replies. His voice is even. Too even.
She risks a glance at him then. In her unfocused, drunk way, she catches it anyway. The tightness in his jaw. The way his eyes won’t quite meet hers.
“Goodnight, Leehan.”
“Night, Jiyeon.”
Stumbling around the entryway, I try to kick off my heels, only to realise they’re wrapped tight around my calf. I sigh in defeat and give up, padding into the bedroom instead. I slouch onto the mattress, letting my weight sink in, the room tilting unpleasantly with me.
I sit upright again, slower this time, blinking hard until the dizziness eases. The world sharpens just enough. I reach down, finally unwrapping the cursed heels and dropping them to the floor. Hair up next, fingers clumsy but determined as I twist it into a messy tie.
Game plan. Take off makeup. Shower. Doomscroll in bed.
One deep, steadying breath later, I’m back on my feet.
LEEHAN POV
I wait until I’m back in the car before pulling my phone out.
21 🐠: got jiyeon home safe. heading back now.
I send it, lock the screen, and pull away from the curb.
The drive back feels longer than it should. The streets blur past, turns I’ve taken a hundred times handled on instinct. All I can hear is her voice in my head. Not loud. Not sloppy. Just sad. So sure of herself when she laughed and said I had a girlfriend, like it was already decided. Like it didn’t hurt her to say it.
I don’t get it.
By the time I get home, my chest feels tight in a way I can’t shake. I kick my shoes off, drop my keys, and find my weed pen where I left it. I don’t bother turning the lights on. I sink into the couch and exhale slowly, smoke curling up into the dark.
The door opens not long after.
“You back?” Taesan asks.
“Yeah.”
He shrugs off his jacket. “Areum’s good. She passed out almost immediately.”
“Good,” I murmur.
He joins me on the couch. I take another drag, hold it, then let it out with a long sigh.
“I don’t understand her.”
“Who?” Taesan asks, glancing over.
“Jiyeon.” I keep my eyes on the wall. “She keeps saying I have a girlfriend. I don’t.”
Taesan frowns. “Did you say that?”
“Multiple times,” I say. “She won’t budge. And why would I sleep with her if I was in one. I hate cheaters.”
He goes quiet.
Then—“Dude. Your story last night. From the shoot.”
I blink, confused, and take another pull without thinking when he adds “Sam’s legs were in frame on your lap”
And then it clicks.
“Oh fuck.”
I rake my hands through my hair and groan, leaning back. “Oh fuck.”
Taesan grins. “See. I always said captions are important.”
“Shut up,” I groan.
Then something heavier settles in.
“She… it was me,” I say quietly. “Fuck.”
“What was you?” he asks.
“The reason she got wasted,” I answer. “Why she looked so sad talking about bad decisions. It was because of me.”
The post. The setting. Letting it sit there, letting her assume.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” I mutter. “Her thinking I’m some fuckboy. Or her drinking herself under to get over it.”
Taesan just looks at me for a second. “Go to bed or else you’ll smoke yourself under as-well”
I do.
My room is dim, lit by the blue glow of the huge fish tank lining one wall. I drop onto the bed, phone already in my hand. I scroll mindlessly until I stop.
Her story.
A photo of her and Areum in a booth, smiling. But her eyes look tired. Sad, if you know where to look.
always makes me feel whole 🥂❤️ @sugar_withteeth
My chest tightens.
I don’t think. I just type.
Sexiest fish ever 🐠: i don’t have a girlfriend.
I turn my phone off immediately after, set it face down, and stare at the ceiling until the hum of the tank and exhaustion finally pull me under
Halloween always feels louder before it starts.
I adjust the cream fabric at my shoulder, crown already slipping crooked as I check my reflection one last time. Poseidon. It’s fine. The costume isn’t the point.
When I step up to the group, I clock Jiyeon immediately. Police officer.
She’s mid-laugh, eyes bright, costume sharp in a way that feels intentional. Not dressed to blend in. Dressed to be seen. My gaze sticks before I can stop it, heat settling low in my chest.
I look away. Then back again.
People are talking around us. Areum matching with Taesan. Jaehyun is losing his mind over outfits. None of it really lands. My focus keeps snapping back to Jiyeon like a magnet.
Inside the club, everything compresses into noise and light. She doesn’t look sad if anything she looks more certain in her actions tonight.
Serenade is packed, Bodies press close, costumes colliding, bass rattling through my ribs. We all sit at the table. Drinks start appearing faster than they should.
Jiyeon sits across from me, leaning forward when she laughs. Every time she glances my way, my stomach tightens, then loosens again. I nurse my drink, trying to stay present. Trying not to read into every look.
Jaehyun’s failing spectacularly at getting numbers. I half-listen, arm slung around his shoulder when I joke about showing him how. It earns a laugh, breaks some of the tension in my chest.
For a moment, the night feels easy.
Then Jiyeon disappears.
At first, I tell myself it’s nothing. Bathroom. Bar. Dance floor. I don’t track her movements. I shouldn’t.
When she comes back, she’s not alone.
The guy’s in a Scream mask, arm already wrapped around her waist like it belongs there. She’s laughing loud, pulling him along without hesitation.
Something in my chest drops hard.
She leads him to the booth and sits on his lap. Not tentative. Not shy. Like she wants it seen.
I look away.
My fingers tighten around my glass. I drain it and pour another shot without thinking. The burn is sharp and grounding. Easier than watching her touch someone else.
She leans back against him. Her hand rests on his shoulder. The mask dips close to her ear and she laughs again, head tipping back.
I take another shot.
I tell myself it’s none of my business. We’re not anything. She can do what she wants. I don’t get to feel like this. Not when my thoughtless post is the reason she is acting out.
Doesn’t stop it.
The empty glasses in front of me start stacking. I’m aware of it in a distant way. A choice I’m making on purpose.
Taesan’s hand catches my wrist as I reach for another.
“Slow down,” he says.
“I’m fine,” I answer automatically.
He watches me for a second. “If you’re that upset, go find someone else.”
A short laugh slips out of me. It doesn’t sound right. “I’m not upset.”
Across the table, Jiyeon finally looks at me. Just briefly. Her eyes flick to the glasses, then back to my face. Something unreadable crosses her expression before she turns back to the guy and laughs louder than before.
My jaw tightens.
I knock back another shot anyway.
The bass drops heavier. Fog crawls across the floor. The room feels too tight, too loud, like it’s pressing in on my ribs.
Then hands are on shoulders.
“Outside,” Taesan says, firm.
Areum is already there, looping her arm through Jiyeon’s and steering her away. Jiyeon laughs as she stands, exaggerated, barely sparing me a glance.
The cold air outside hits hard.
My head buzzes, chest tight. Taesan turns to face me.
“What’s going on with you?”
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Across from us, Jiyeon is already arguing quietly with Areum, posture defensive, something hurt flickering through her irritation. I look away before she catches me watching.
I don’t know how the night shifted this far.
I just know it did and now we’re all outside, pretending it isn’t about exactly what it’s about.
Taesan doesn’t ask.
He just looks at me, then nods toward Jiyeon. “Go talk to her.”
I don’t argue.
Jiyeon stands a few steps away, arms crossed, posture tight, Areum still beside her. I can feel the wall she’s put up even before I open my mouth.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” I snap.
She turns instantly. “He isn’t my boyfriend. And why does it concern you?”
Behind me, Taesan sighs. “Here we go.”
“You brought him back to the table,” I say, jaw tight. “Sat on his lap.”
“And?” she shoots back. “You were busy drinking like you wanted to disappear.”
We talk over each other for a moment, sharp and circular, both defensive, neither actually saying what we mean.
Then she stops.
“If you want whatever this is to continue,” she says, voice firm, steady in a way that makes my chest tighten, “speak now—or I’m leaving and going back to someone who will actually talk to me.”
She turns to walk away.
“Wait.”
She stops.
“It’s not that I don’t want whatever we are to happen,” I say, quieter now, forcing myself to slow down. “I just don’t know if you’d like me when we’re both sober.”
She turns back, hurt flickering across her face. “What?” Her voice cracks slightly. “You think I wouldn’t?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” I reply immediately. “I remember you telling me you always end up hurt. I don’t want to be the one who does that to you.”
Her expression softens, confusion edging out the anger.
“Then why did you post that story,” she asks quietly. “You and that girl.”
I nod slowly. I know exactly what she means.
“I act part time,” I say. “It was part of a scene in a shoot.”
She freezes. “A… scene?”
“Yeah,” I continue, steady now. “We were styled together. It wasn’t personal. Nothing happened.”
“You didn’t say that,” she replies, searching my face.
“I didn’t think I needed to,” I admit. “I didn’t realise how it would look without context.”
She processes that in silence.
“So you’re not seeing her.”
“No.”
“You don’t have a girlfriend.”
“No.”
The air between us shifts. Less sharp. Less guarded.
“Then why wouldn’t you just tell me,” she asks quietly. “Why let me think I was stupid for wanting more.”
“I didn’t know you thought that,” I say. “You brought someone else back. I thought you were done with me.”
Her mouth tightens. “I did that because I thought you already had someone.”
We both go still.
The truth sits between us, uncomplicated and stupid.
She exhales first. “We’re idiots.”
A quiet laugh slips out of me. “Yeah. Seems like it.”
She hesitates, then looks up at me. “Come over after.”
I blink. “Tonight?”
“Yes,” she says, decisive now. “We’ll talk properly. Smoke. I don’t want to keep doing this halfway.”
I nod before I can overthink it. “Okay.”
Then, because I can’t help myself, I add, “Should I invite Scream Mask Guy too, or—”
She smacks my arm. “Shut up.”
I grin.
We head back inside together. Jiyeon parts to go see Areum and her boss at the bar.
At the table, after Areum eats Kamy’s reputation whole, the whole table is back in motion. I don’t clarify anything with Taesan. I don’t need to. He sees it in the way Jiyeon slides in beside me, the way her knee presses into mine and stays there.
The guy in the Scream mask is gone.
I don’t see him again for the rest of the night.
Her fingers brush my wrist when she reaches for her drink. My thumb rests briefly against her thigh when the bass drops. Quiet. Intentional.
When the night finally ends, we leave separately.
Different excuses. Different directions
But later, my phone buzzes.
Ji 🐈: don’t be late.
And for the first time all night, nothing feels unclear.
JI
After switching into comfy smoke clothes and pulling out more fluffy blankets, I’m on the couch rolling a couple joints for me and Leehan’s hangout. The earlier talk clarifying everything still sits with me. I’m annoyed at myself for getting so upset in the first place, for not just asking instead of shutting him out and blocking every friendly advance he made.
Just as I set the tray of goodies down, the doorbell rings.
I get up and head to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open to find Leehan standing there in sweats and a hoodie, no trace of his earlier sea god costume. He holds up a couple of paper bags, grease already seeping through the bottoms like an offering.
“I bought food.”
I smile immediately. “I can see that.”
I gesture him inside and tell him to lock the door behind him as I head back to the living room, settling onto the couch and reclaiming the tray so I can keep rolling. He follows, taking in the space before sitting beside me.
“I like your place,” he says easily. “I love the vibe.”
“Thanks,” I say, patting the couch. “Me and Areum decorated it together in senior year of high school.”
He sits, close but not crowding, and I pass him a joint. He lights it and offers me the first puff before leaning back.
“Okay,” he says, exhaling slowly. “I need guidelines for questions.”
I glance at him. “Like what?”
“Like how deep can the questions go?”
I look down at the tray, at the neat little lineup of joints, then back at him. “I’m fine with everything, to be honest. It feels easier when people know the whole you and not just the glorified parts.”
He nods, serious. “Okay. But if anything feels too hard, don’t push yourself to explain.”
I smile, genuine this time. “Deal.”
I take a hit, then gesture between us. “Okay, my first question for you is what food you’ve deemed smoke friendly.”
His face lights up immediately. “Oh, I have thought about this extensively.”
“Of course you have.”
“Greasy food is elite,” he starts, already digging into one of the bags. “Anything fried, anything salty. Sweet stuff is good but only after. These,” he adds, pulling out fries, “are essential.”
I laugh and steal a few, nudging his knee with mine. “Respectable list.”
He counters with, “What about you?”
“Honestly?” I say, chewing. “Anything I can eat with my hands without dropping ash on it.”
“Valid.”
We snack and smoke in between questions, the conversation settling into something easy. I ask him what he’s studying and his answer comes out without hesitation.
“Marine science.”
My eyebrows lift. “That makes so much sense.”
He grins. “Yeah? I get that a lot.”
“What made you choose it?”
“My hometown,” he says. “I’m from Busan. Coastal kid through and through. I grew up around the ocean. It kind of raised me.”
I hum thoughtfully, taking another drag. “Okay, your turn.”
“How long have you lived here?” he asks.
“Four years,” I reply. “I moved out of my house the second I was legally allowed with Areum’s help and never looked back.”
He doesn’t pry, just nods. “That takes guts.”
“What about siblings?” I ask him, casually, like it won’t boomerang back at me.
“I have an older sister,” he says. “She’s terrifying and amazing.”
I smile. “That tracks.”
More small questions follow. Favorite snacks. Worst classes. Dumb habits. We pass the joint back and forth, fingers brushing occasionally, crumbs gathering on the coffee table, smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling.
Then he asks, carefully, “Do you have siblings?”
I pause.
Family has always been a rough subject, one I usually dodge or joke my way around, but something about the way he asks makes it feel wrong to lie.
I take a breath. “This is heavy, so buckle up.”
He shifts closer, concern softening his face. “Hey, it’s okay. Take your time.”
“I have three other siblings,” I start. “I’m the second youngest out of four. Not memorable enough like the first, not precious like the last.”
I stare at my hands as I speak, words tumbling out now that I’ve started. “I was often ignored. Recitals missed. Sleepovers declined. I lived in the shadow of my younger and older siblings my whole life.”
I swallow and keep going. “One time I stayed with Areum for a fortnight before coming back and they never realised I wasn’t there.”
Leehan lets out a quiet breath beside me.
“They got more cruel when I entered high school,” I continue. “I was my mother’s punching bag and my dad blamed every inconvenience on me. Ignored me. In family photos I was always pushed to the side, dressed differently. There were no baby photos of me in the house. I slept on the couch. Never got gifts.”
My chest tightens but I push through. “My parents didn’t come to my graduation. But Areum never let me feel alone. I’ve known her since I was three. We’ve been inseparable since. She’s like my blessing.”
I finally look at him. “When I moved out, I went no contact. Not that it mattered. It’s been four years and none of them even tried reaching out.”
There’s a heavy sigh from Leehan, thick with emotion. He looks at me, eyes earnest.
“I’m so sorry you went through that.”
I smile, small but real. “Hey, it builds character.”
That earns a weak laugh from him, the tension easing just a little. He nudges me gently with his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have had to be that strong.”
“Probably,” I say, taking another hit. “But here we are.”
We shift back into lighter territory after that. He tells me more about Busan, about growing up near the coast, early mornings by the water, how the ocean made him curious about everything living inside it. I listen quietly, a small part of me aching with jealousy over the warmth of his home life, but I don’t let it show.
I let it go.
Instead, I keep asking questions. I tease him about becoming a fish whisperer, steal the last fry, and we dissolve into that soft, stupid kind of laughter that only shows up when you’re very high and very comfortable. The sky outside the window slowly shifts, black to navy to that pale washed-out blue that means morning is coming whether we’re ready or not. Neither of us mentions it at first. We’re zoned out, shoulders pressed together, trading jokes that barely make sense, smoke long gone but the warmth still lingering.
At some point the conversation slows, stretches. I stare at the light creeping across the floor and then glance at him.
“Can I ask something without it being weird?” I say.
He hums, eyes half-lidded. “We are way past weird.”
I breathe out. “Do you want a relationship?”
He turns his head to look at me properly. “Do you?”
I think about it for a second, honest with myself before answering. “I don’t want fast,” I say. “I prefer safety and trust.”
He nods immediately, like that answer makes sense to him. “Yeah. Me too.”
We don’t label it. We don’t define it. We just agree to see each other, to hang out, to feel it out in that strange in-between space where nothing is promised but nothing feels forced either. It feels calm. It feels right.
A yawn sneaks up on me and I don’t even try to stop it.
Leehan smiles. “Okay. It’s bedtime.”
We shuffle toward the bedroom, both moving slow and loose. I change into something soft while he lingers by the door, already half turned like he’s about to head back out. I look at him, suddenly aware of how quiet the apartment feels.
“Do you want to stay the night?” I ask.
He hesitates, gentle. “Are you sure?”
I blink at him, then laugh. “Leehan, did you forget you have literally been inside me. Cuddles and sleeping should be easy.”
He breaks into laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fair point.”
I toss him spare clothes and he changes quickly before climbing into bed with me. He pulls me close without asking, like it’s instinct, and I fit against him just as easily. The sun keeps rising outside, light spilling in as my eyes finally drift shut.
We aren’t together. We aren’t officially anything. But the comfort, the ease of it, the way neither of us feels the need to pull away, feels like reassurance enough.
Fin.
——-——-:-⋆｡˚𓆝｡˚⋆𓂃 ⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚𓂃⋆｡˚𓆝｡˚⋆-:————-
Authors note : hiiii thank you for all the love in the bottle girl series so far i am excited to expand it with more hopeful spinoffs but before i continue i will be doing non related bnd works. This took a long time to get out due to christmas, new years AND overseas family visiting but its finally out! As of today when i’m typing this 6/02/26 its oneulman i love you day 🚪❄️❤️. I hope you all enjoyed and my reqs are open for all members, if there is any confusion i am happy to clear it up, thank you for reading so far.
-T
