#jake sim x reader

[cutehoons02]

Something about you (PT1)

*pairing: pervy wolf hybrid Jake x human student girl

*trope: popular playboy x nerdy girl-tutoring

*inspiration: off campus book 1

*synopsis: Jake only had one problem: History. He's always been good at any subject, especially since balancing being the captain of the football team and studying engineering is no walk in the park, but his lack of history could compromise everything, and when he saw a girl holding the text with the word 100 written on it, he realized that you could be his only chance of getting through that damned subject. But what would it sweat if tutor sessions began to become moments where he could be himself, where you began to open up after a long time to a person and discover that jake wasn't as much of a womanizer and you weren't as broken as you thought you were?

*tags: Jake is a playboy at first but after a while you arouse his curiosity, Y/n at first is skeptical of letting Jake into her life, Y/n suffered violence in high school (I won't write anything about this act also because my stories have to be a fun) many kisses, Jake is a wolf hybrid and little by little he will become territorial but also clingy with Y/n, Y/n thinks she's broken but Jake will trust her both intimately and physically, visual masturbation, protected sex, unprotected sex (dont' horny ppl) knotting, jealousy, possession, sucking to claim Y/n, declaration, +18, little bit angst, pet names (jakey) (baby, sweetheart)

banner by: @eightnyn *wc: 37k

The Contemporary History classroom was packed with students, and Jake was there, neither at the front nor at the back, but right in the middle, where he could observe everyone.

His knee wouldn’t stop bouncing with anxiety, his wolf ears were perked up, and his tail, just like his knee, twitched with every breath he took and you’re probably wondering: ears and a tail? Well, yes—he was a hybrid, specifically a wolf hybrid. For decades now, humans had shared everything with hybrids: from everyday jobs to school lessons, from apartments to entire neighborhoods where humans and hybrids lived side by side without resistance. Mixed couples were even trendy by now—no, more than trendy, they were fully accepted in society, especially in big cities. You could see them everywhere: in malls, restaurants, or parks, with hybrid children, kids with rabbit ears or fox tails playing alongside human ones and that sight warmed Jake’s heart more than anything, because hybrids had endured so much racial discrimination and persecution but finally, things were changing, and he had played a small part in that revolution.

In that classroom, humans were still the majority, but that was normal, especially at the university, where hybrids like him had only been admitted a few years earlier. Jake, however, was an exception: about a year ago, he’d been elected captain of the soccer team, the first hybrid to ever hold that position. Thanks to him, the number of hybrids in both recreational and competitive sports had risen. One of his best friends, Heeseung a hamster hybrid had even followed in his footsteps and become captain of the basketball team.

But back to the present: Jake was in that half-anxious state because the professor was handing back the history exams. Let’s just say that, as an engineering student, he didn’t care much for the subject—especially since it was just an elective. But it carried a lot of credits, and the reason he disliked it was simple: his engineer’s mind thrived on logic, formulas, structural calculations, and precise physical dynamics things with no room for interpretation. History, with all its dates, nuanced socio-political contexts, and long texts to memorize, just felt like a waste of time to him… even if he did find the revolutions between humans and hybrids fascinating.

Still, he needed to pass all his classes to stay captain of the university team and to catch the attention of scouts from the big professional leagues, who didn’t tolerate academic slippage. He had to be the perfect student and the perfect player. So when the professor approached his desk, her expression was almost apologetic, as if she knew the potential of the young man in front of her. Jake did have excellent grades in every subject… except hers.

The test paper slid across the wooden desk, and at the top—circled in red marker (a color that, unfortunately for him, was not in his pendant) was a glaring 45 out of 100 and to make matters worse, it wasn’t even close to passing.

The professor peered at him over her glasses and said, “Jake, I hope for your sake that next time you at least manage a basic passing grade. Otherwise, I’ll have to report this to Coach, and we all know how strict Coach Smith is about academic performance.”

He nodded, and his tail suddenly stopped moving, drooping down and tucking itself under the chair. He nearly slumped over his desk, staring at that disastrous grade. His right hand fidgeted nervously through his soft hair, right at the base of his tense ears, as if trying to ease the tension. He sighed heavily, racking his brain for solutions but there were none. All his closest friends were in different majors, and if he didn’t find a fix fast, his soccer dream would be over before it even began.

Unbeknownst to him, just a few rows away sat a girl twirling her pen, completely unbothered about her history test grade. She watched the professor intently as she moved between the desks, papers in hand.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp elbow nudge from your best friend. “Stop staring at the professor!” Allie hissed. “She probably saved your test for last, one of the first three she’s handing out just so she can praise you in front of everyone. We all know you’re the biggest nerd in here.”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated but amused, as Allie sat there sipping her fruit smoothie her latest attempt at this “fructarian” diet, while her own test, a modest but honest 70, lay forgotten beside her. With absolute nonchalance, she scrolled through an online sexy shop store, browsing through undeniably sexy sets at prices that would make any other girl’s wallet tremble...but not hers.

“Stop looking at your phone,” you whispered back, giving her a light shove. “If the professor saw you scrolling through a sex shop right now, she’d have a heart attack. I bet she doesn’t even know the difference between a thong and a Brazilian.”

Allie let out a snort, nearly spitting her drink all over the guy in front of her. She slammed her phone down on the desk just in time, because the professor finally stopped in front of you, her face breaking into a full, thirty-two-tooth grin.

“Y/n, I’m not even surprised anymore,” she said. “But you know I struggle to give out perfect scores. Still, this last test of yours on the Cold War and the geopolitical dynamics of the Soviet bloc… it’s simply flawless. The knowledge you’ve shown, the historical interpretations, even the extra research you included on the Cuban Missile Crisis...it’s all perfect. I’m so proud to have you in my class. It’s a shame you’re not majoring in history, because if you were, you’d be unstoppable.”

You smiled, thinking about how everyone had always told you to study history or political science but your love for music was stronger. “Well, it’s my job to study, get good grades, and give it my all especially in history, since you know it’s one of my favorite subjects,” you said shyly, feeling the eyes of half the class turn toward you.

Then the paper slid onto your desk, revealing a bold, perfect 100 in red ink. Allie, ever the dramatic one, blurted out way too loudly: “Holy shit, you actually got a 100?! We studied together the whole time...how the hell did I only get a 70? Okay, I’m not complaining, but damn, Y/n!” She stared at you, eyes wide, lower lip jutting out like a wounded puppy. You shrugged, suddenly self-conscious under all the attention, and tried to cover the test with your hands but Allie was faster—she snatched it right out from under you, held it up to her face, and before you could protest, she’d already pulled out her phone, snapped a crystal-clear photo of the red 100, and sent it to your friend group chat, roasting you for being such a nerd.

Your phone buzzed nonstop with the incoming messages from your friends, all teasing you affectionately. Meanwhile, a few rows back, a pair of wolf ears suddenly perked up, drawn by the noise and the word “100.” Who the hell had gotten a 100? It was practically impossible in an elective class. His amber eyes locked onto your back, and in that moment, he realized he’d just found his only lifeline to passing Contemporary History.

Jake couldn’t look away. Not even when the bell rang, signaling freedom. His mind was consumed by a single thought: He had never seen anyone get a perfect score in his entire university career and when he saw you stand up, followed by the blonde girl he assumed was your best friend, his instincts flared to life. The wolf in him, the one that drove him to chase, to track down what was vital for his survival (or in this case, his scholarship) awoke with a jolt. Because let’s be real: in his life, there was only room for one thing: Soccer

And at the thought, a surge of adrenaline shot down his spine, making his ears snap forward and his tail muscles twitch back to life, swinging wildly with excitement at the idea of meeting you.

He shot to his feet, shoving his notebook haphazardly into his bag without even zipping it shut. Weaving through the maze of wooden desks, he spotted you stepping into the university’s main atrium. Jake quickened his pace, using his athlete’s stride, until he was just a few steps behind you, right in the middle of the chaos: students switching classes, others heading to the campus bars.

“Hey, Chloe!” he called out, loud enough to be heard, throwing out a random name he’d picked up somewhere in the classroom. The truth was, he had no idea what your name actually was and, honestly, he’d never seen you at one of his famous Friday night parties, nor cheering from the stands during league matches. That fact unsettled him a little… but it also piqued his curiosity.

Of course, you didn’t turn around, because, obviously, your name wasn’t Chloe. You just kept walking and talking to Allie. But Jake wasn’t about to give up. He took two quick steps forward and tried again, this time stretching out a hand to intercept you. 

“Hey, Chloe! I’m talking to you!” he said, a little louder this time.

Finally, you spun around. And that was the moment Jake saw you up close for the first time, no filters, no distance of desks between you. A lightning-fast thought shot through his mind: Damn. Not only is she a terrifyingly smart nerd, but she’s also ridiculously cute. He took in your eyes, framed by a faint shadow of annoyance, as they swept over him from head to toe, far from impressed by the figure smiling at you.

“You mean me?” you asked, pointing at your chest with one finger, while Allie stopped beside you, staring at him in confusion.

“Yeah, you,” Jake confirmed.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, for starters, my name is Y/n. Not Chloe… you weren’t even close.” You looked at him bluntly, and at those words, Jake’s wolf ears drooped slightly, flattening against his soft hair in embarrassment. Before he could apologize or come up with one of his usual ready-made excuses, a sharp, ironic voice cut in from beside you.

“Jake Sim is seriously talking to Y/n? What’s this, did you come here to ask for more signatures to sponsor your precious soccer team? Or were you sent by your little basketball buddy, Heeseung, to do his dirty work? Because if you’re here for charity signatures, we’re not interested. The university’s already cutting tons of funding from both the theater and music majors because of you and your best friend,” Allie said, her expression dripping with disdain.

Jake’s head snapped toward the blonde, annoyed by the intrusion but forcing himself to keep his cool. “No,” he replied, straightening up and turning back to you, locking his eyes onto yours. “I’m here because I need to talk to Y/n. About something important.”

At his direct statement, you instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, pressing them tightly as if creating an invisible shield between you and him, a gesture born from deep insecurity and the trauma you still carried inside. The sudden movement didn’t go unnoticed by the hybrid in front of you.

Jake distinctly felt your heartbeat speed up. At the same time, his nose picked up the sudden shift in your scent: the clean aroma of your skin was abruptly overpowered by a sharp, acidic trail, the unmistakable feromone signature of discomfort, mixed with a warm, suffocating note of pure embarrassment. The unwanted attention and physical proximity of an alpha male, especially one like him, had triggered it.

He ran a hand through his brown hair, furrowing his brow deeply as he studied your reaction with a mix of perplexity and concern. His wolf side picked up on your distress like an alarm signal. Why does my mere presence make her feel so threatened or uncomfortable? He wondered. Usually, girls fell over themselves to get a word or a glance from him.

You looked first at Allie, then back at Jake, eager to end this situation as quickly as possible and head to the café for your caramel macchiato in peace.

“Allie, wait for me at the usual faculty café. This’ll take two minutes,” you said with a smile to your best friend. Allie eyed Jake with suspicion, weighing whether to leave you alone or not, then slowly nodded. “Fine, I’ll get your usual,” she said, but as she walked away, turning her back on you, she shot Jake a final, fierce warning glance, one that carried a crystal-clear message: Don’t be stupid, or this will end badly for you.

Left alone with him in the atrium, you immediately took two steps back, putting more distance between you and Jake. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, clutching your books against your chest, and fixed your gaze on him.

“So, Jake Sim, you’ve got two minutes. Tell me what you want.”

Jake studied you carefully, analyzing every tiny movement. His tail gave a slight, excited wag from side to side at finally having your attention, but he stopped it instantly, not wanting to reveal even that small loss of composure. He cleared his throat and said:

“Yeah, well… sorry for calling you Chloe. I just didn’t remember your name.”

You merely responded with a sharp nod, and Jake realized he needed to get to the point before time ran out. So, he decided to pull out the big guns: he unleashed his full Playboy charm, squaring his muscular shoulders and tilting his head slightly to the side with a crooked, magnetic smile. Along with his posture, his hybrid nature did the rest—without realizing it, he released a subtle but intense trail of reassuring pheromones into the air around you. A warm, clean scent filled the space, a mix of citrus and something salty, blended with his natural hybrid scent. It was the kind of biological chemistry wolves used to charm people, lower their defenses, and make them instinctively feel safe and drawn to them, but he didn’t yet know that with you, it would be extremely difficult.

“I saw you got a 100 on that test earlier, and first of all, congratulations. Seriously… not everyone can pull off a score like that in an elective class,” he said, taking an almost imperceptible step closer to you. “And second… I was wondering if you’d be willing to tutor me. I know a lot of people do it for academic credits, but I figure you’ve probably got enough of those already, if you scored a 100, you’re probably acing all your major classes. Or maybe for money? So I was wondering if you’d give me private lessons. I desperately need to pass Contemporary History. Especially since it’s an extra-curricular subject for me, and it’s worth double the structural credits. If I don’t pass… I’m screwed.” He finished with a crooked little smile, but you didn’t take the bait.

The trauma you’d experienced in high school had made you completely immune to the shameless charm of popular guys, and your mind rigidly resisted even his wolf pheromones, pushing them away like a self-defense mechanism. You looked at him with no emotion at all.  “Thanks for the compliment on my grade, but no. I don’t tutor anyone. And as you’ve already figured out, I’ve got all the credits I need, and even if we’re talking about money, which, sure, every student could use—I’ve got a ton of studying for my own classes. Plus, I’m in the university choir, and that takes up a lot of time because I’m studying music.” You said all this while keeping your gaze lowered, almost avoiding his face, focused instead on the colorful bookmarks invading your notes. This total indifference deeply unsettled him.

Jake was used to humans hanging on his every word, to girls who would pay just to spend an hour alone with the team captain. Being rejected like this without so much as a glance wounded his alpha male pride and confused him. Sensing that you might not even like his presence, he took a step back, furrowing his brow, and blurted out in one breath:

“Is it because I’m a hybrid that you don’t want to tutor me? Or because you think that, as the soccer team captain, I’m just another shallow idiot who can’t balance engineering studies with training?”

At those words, your eyes widened, struck by how suddenly vulnerable and frustrated his voice sounded as he looked at you. You responded with a flurry of gestures: “No, no! It’s not that at all!” you exclaimed sincerely. “Even if a human had asked me, I would’ve said no, Jake. I’m really sorry… especially because I know balancing engineering studies and being the soccer team captain comes with a lot of pressure ut if you check the bulletin board in the atrium or the university’s official forum, in the history section, I bet you’ll find a tutor way better than me…I…I’ve got to go now, yeah, I’m meeting Allie.”

You said this with slightly flushed cheeks, still not looking him in the face, and began walking quickly down the hallway, almost hunching your shoulders as if afraid he might follow you or reach out to stop you. His fully matured wolf instincts immediately picked up on something strange in your sudden flight. His nose caught that your scent was no longer just annoyed; now it carried a clear trail of fear, and maybe even something vulnerable, and Jake didn’t understand why.

They called him the golden boy of campus for a reason, no one had ever run away from him before. In fact, it was usually the opposite. He stood frozen, watching you disappear into the faculty crowd, his ears perked up, his mind racing at a hundred miles an hour. Your terrified reaction intrigued him, drove him wild. Because Jake Sim, when he wanted something, always got it and his wolf side had just decided that you, sooner or later, would be his tutor, no matter the cost and maybe, over time, something more than just a tutor. But that was something you’d both discover later… certainly not today.

The university campus’s main bar was nearly closing by that time, but you still had another half-hour left before your afternoon shift behind the counter ended. To pass the time and get ahead on your assignments, you’d set your laptop directly on the counter, trying to focus on your next project, studying music. You needed to dive deep into the acoustic composition of sounds and the various instrumental timbres to create balanced arrangements, ensuring the sound was perfect. Your dream was to become a singer, but you’d also love to work as a songwriter or composer. Your hearing was hyper-developed, and you’d already received requests from music agencies.

However, at that moment, music theory was the last thing on your mind. Your eyes kept wandering from the screen, drawn to the brightest corner of the bar, where Soobin was sitting. He was a Communication Sciences student specializing in Digital Media, and he played on the campus basketball team. Let’s just say you had a slight crush on him. Your head was lazily resting in the palm of your left hand, while your right hand sipped through a straw on a refreshing seasonal drink you’d made for yourself. You couldn’t help but admire how incredibly cute Soobin was: he was tall, over 185 cm which was probably why he was on the basketball team, you thought as you took in his lean, athletic build. His hair fell messily across his forehead, giving him a constantly sweet, approachable vibe and then, suddenly, his infectious laughter echoed through the bar, and an involuntary little pout formed on your face when you saw his famous dimples appear on his cheeks, giving him an irresistible puppy-like aura.

Seriously? Soobin?” Jake’s bright, ironic voice cut through the air. “What’s so charming about that guy? He’s always half-clumsy and doesn’t even know which way a door swings unless he’s on a basketball court.”

At those words, your drink nearly went down the wrong pipe. When you straightened up, there he was, Jake, standing right in front of you. His worn-out soccer bag was slung over one shoulder, his dark hair still slightly damp from his post-training shower, and that usual smirk of his that always got under your skin. Caught red-handed, you blushed furiously and stammered:

“Soobin? I...I have no idea who you’re talking about!” You pointed at yourself, then frantically looked around to divert attention, but Jake just flashed that crooked grin of his, his eyes sparkling with pure amusement.

“Oh, come on! I could help you get to know him, you know? And especially get noticed. Did you know he plays on the same team as my best friend Heeseung? He comes to almost all our weekend parties.” He turned to glance at Soobin, and you shot him a dirty look.

“Hard pass. Now… what drink or food would you like to order, Jake?” As you said it, your fingers pressed a little too hard on the bar’s computer keyboard.

“Easy: tutoring from you in history to pass the next two exams,” he said with nonchalance.

You stared at him, exasperated, and let out a long sigh. “You really don’t like hearing ‘no,’ do you?”

At that, his wolf tail, which was peeking out from under his sports hoodie gave a slight, rhythmic wag. You didn’t know much about hybrid anatomy or behavior, but to Jake, that involuntary movement meant one very clear thing: he was incredibly stimulated by your resistance toward him. It was almost like a challenge, and it excited him to no end. Jake loved competition, and right now, you were a very compelling one.

“Mmm, I knew you were a sharp girl, sweetheart,” he said with total nonchalance. Your cheeks burned, and you stammered, “Sweetheart?!”

He chuckled, thoroughly amused. “Well, yeah, it’s a cute nickname. Though, to be honest, there’s not much ‘sweet’ about you right now.” He gifted you one of his perfect smiles.

“Tell me what you want to drink or eat, or just leave,” you said sharply, crossing your arms over your chest, annoyed by the way his eyes had briefly flicked to the neckline of your shirt. Jake raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning.

“Fine, fine. A hot caramel macchiato and a slice of Black Forest cake. You’ll bring it to my table, right? Especially since… I’ve decided I’ll go sit right across from Soobin.” He pointed at the guy you’d been admiring earlier. With that, he tapped his phone on the card reader, paying with a quick beep, leaving you standing there, stunned and speechless. You muttered a low curse under your breath: “I hope the cake chokes him.”

You watched as Jake sat down with absolute ease right at Soobin’s table, and you huffed in frustration. But before you could do anything, the two guys exchanged a quick, athletic handshake—a sign of brotherhood among teammates. You knew Jake could help you get closer to Soobin, who smiled at him. A moment later, Jake turned his head slightly toward the counter, catching your gaze, and shot you a smug, triumphant grin.

In just five minutes, Jake’s order was ready. With the tray clutched in your slightly trembling hands, you walked toward the table where Jake and Soobin were sitting. Trying to keep your voice as professional and detached as possible, you said:

“Hey, guys. Here’s the Blackforest cake and the caramel macchiato.” You set the plate and cup down in front of Jake, who watched you intently. “Thanks, Y/n,” he said.

You hoped to turn on your heel and flee as quickly as possible, but Jake, of course, spoke up immediately to keep you there, so Soobin would notice you and remember your name.

“Soobin, this is Y/n. We’re in the same Contemporary History class, and she’s a total genius. She scored a terrifying 100 on the last test,” Jake said, addressing not just Soobin but also the other basketball players sitting around the table, who proceeded to compliment you. Soobin’s eyes widened, clearly impressed, and he looked at you with that gentle, heart-melting way of his. “You seriously got a 100 in that extracurricular class? Wow… what’s your major? You know, I’ve been struggling with those geohistory exams too. We could study together sometime, you could give me some pointers, and we’d help each other out,” he said with a shy smile.

Your cheeks instantly turned a deep burgundy, embarrassed by the unexpected compliment from the guy you liked. You just managed a timid smile and a nod.

Jake, observing the scene with the precision of a predator, knew full well that Soobin had taken the bait. With total nonchalance, he interrupted the moment before Soobin could elaborate, speaking in a tone that was falsely apologetic but incredibly possessive:

“Soobin, I hate to disappoint you, but she’s already taken. You know I’m a disaster in history, and the team desperately needs me to be up to date with all my classes for the championship… so I’ve already asked Y/n to give me private tutoring. I couldn’t possibly pass up an opportunity like having the best tutor around.” He looked at you with that crooked grin of his, and you shot him a furious glare, clenching your fist so tightly against your apron that your knuckles turned white.

“I study music… but if you’re having trouble, Soobin, I could still find time to...”

But Soobin shook his hands and cut you off with a sincere smile.  “No, no, don’t waste your precious time on me! I only play basketball for fun, to help the team. I’ll never be a professional athlete like Heeseung or Jake. You absolutely should tutor Jake. Guys, if he doesn’t have all his classes in order, the federation will exclude him from the university championship and right now, there are scouts from the national leagues watching him...they’re carefully evaluating whether his public and academic image is perfect before offering him a contract in a higher soccer league.”

At those words, you furrowed your brow, and your eyes widened slightly. You knew Jake was good at soccer, he was the captain, after all but you hadn’t realized how serious the situation was. There were actually professional scouts involved, and his entire future depended on those damn history tests?

Jake, as he nibbled on his slice of cake, savoring his victory, doubled down: “See, Y/n? Even Soobin’s asking you. I seriously need your help. And remember… if you ever wanted to ask me for anything in return, or needed some special help with someone, I’d be more than happy to return the favor.” As he said this, he gave you a knowing wink, subtly nodding his chin toward Soobin. You rolled your eyes, was he blackmailing you under the guise of helping?

Your shift at the café was finally over, and everyone had left—except, of course, Jake, who had stayed until the very end and even “helped” you clean up the tables, though he’d spent more time asking you questionable things, like what the weirdest drink mix you’d ever made was since you started working at the campus bar. Eventually, you both ended up outside as you locked the door. His tail, peeking out from under his hoodie, couldn’t seem to stop moving, swaying frantically from side to side in a rhythm that almost made you laugh. But you just furrowed your brow, exhausted after hours of work, and said:

“Is your tail always moving like that?” You pointed at it with one finger.

Jake’s mouth fell open in embarrassment, completely caught off guard, no one had ever asked him something so direct before, especially not a girl calling him out on an uncontrollable reflex tied to his hybrid nature. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s just say my tail and generally, the tails of hybrids who have them reflects our emotions. We can’t control it. It’s an involuntary reflex of our nervous system,” he explained, trying to relax.

You looked at him, curious. “And what emotion are you feeling right now, Jake? We literally just left a bar and are walking toward campus. I don’t think you’re feeling some great emotion… especially not in my company,” you muttered under your breath, almost to yourself but his wolf ears picked up every single word, even the way you’d said it. Jake furrowed his brow but decided not to make a big deal out of the fact that he’d heard. He looked you straight in the eyes and said:

“Anxiety? Anxiety over your verdict. Sorry if I’m being pushy, but history is literally the only subject I’m bad at, and you’re my last hope… I already checked the university forums like you suggested, but no one has your grades, and honestly, none of them inspire much confidence. So my tail’s wagging like this because I’m anxious to know if you’ve changed your mind. Is that okay?”

You sighed deeply, clutching your books to your chest, and stayed silent for a few steps as you walked along the campus paths lit by streetlamps. You thought it over, weighing the importance of his future and the veiled blackmail about Soobin, until you finally said:

“I decide when and where the tutoring sessions happen. Obviously, we’ll have to work around our academic schedules. And I don’t want to be messed around: if you want to pass history, you actually have to commit. No excuses...neither about soccer nor anything else and I want you to be honest if you don’t understand something. In addition to our sessions, you need to study on your own at home. I’m not doing all the work for you. Just like in soccer, you have to put in the effort in this subject too.”

You said it all in one breath, setting down ironclad rules to protect your boundaries. Jake’s eyes widened, his ears snapping straight up in surprise. “Wait… does this mean… you’ll tutor me for the next few months?” he asked. This time, his tail moved differently, and you wondered if it meant he was happy.

You nodded resignedly, bringing a hand to your face. “I just hope it’s worth it… and that I don’t lose my patience with you by the first session,” you muttered.

At your confirmation, Jake, overwhelmed with relief and happiness, completely lost control of his human inhibitions. Without realizing it, he lunged forward and pulled you into a tight hug. He pressed you against his broad, warm chest, wrapping you completely in his strong, athletic arms. You froze, stiff as a block of ice, and your heart skipped a beat from the sudden physical contact.

Why was he hugging you? God, you hated physical contact, especially with people you didn’t know or trust. The memory of what you’d gone through in high school came rushing back like a slap. Your hands began to tremble slightly against your books, and you couldn’t bring yourself to place them on Jake’s back to reciprocate. You stayed motionless, breathless.

Jake, being a hybrid, immediately noticed how rigid you were in his arms. His body sensed your instant stiffness, but it was your scent that changed in a millisecond under his hyper-developed nose. The sweet, clean strawberry scent of your skin was literally overpowered by an intense, acidic trail, the unmistakable signature of negative emotions: primal panic, terror, and shock. It was the scent of someone who felt attacked, not just surprised by a hug. His wolf instinct, which never failed when it came to deciphering pheromones, picked up on that internal danger signal. It forced him to pull away from you immediately. Seeing you silent, your hands shaking, your expression blank, and your eyes wide and empty, Jake felt a pang of guilt, he was afraid he’d crossed a line with you.

Oh God, I’m sorry… I… I didn’t mean to,” he said, slightly embarrassed, running a hand through his hair and messing it up nervously as he saw you still standing completely stiff in front of him.

“I… I really like physical contact when I’m happy or relieved. It’s a hybrid thing...we tend to be pack-oriented… I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, gesturing with his hands. You swallowed hard, trying to regain control of your breathing, and gave a weak nod. “Yeah… well, I don’t know much about hybrids, but please… just don’t do it again with me, okay? No hugs.” You shifted even farther away from him.

Seeing how shaken you still were, he nodded seriously, his ears lowering in a sign of submission and respect toward you. “Okay, okay, no hugs. I’ll message you on Instagram later, alright? So we can exchange numbers and set up our first lesson.”

You nodded one last time with a quick motion and hurried toward your apartment, desperate only to close the door behind you and sink into a long, hot bath.

Jake stood frozen on the path, watching your figure disappear into the dim light. His ears were tense, motionless, and his tail was completely still. His predator and protective wolf instincts took over everything else because that drastic and terrifying shift in your scent wasn’t normal for a girl your age. As he furrowed his brow, the wolf inside him had just caught the scent of a painful secret you were trying to hide.

What are you hiding that’s so serious, sweetheart? he muttered under his breath. Who reduced you to this?

Without realizing it, Jake’s instinct had just vowed that he would uncover the truth and whoever had hurt you would be gone, long before you even saw it coming.

You had arranged everything with Jake down to the last detail in your messages: the library, west wing, at 4:00 PM sharp. He had replied with a thumbs-up, promising he’d be there. But now it was nearly 4:15, and there was still no sign of him. Curious, you’d even checked the official team schedule to see if he had practice but Monday was marked as a full rest day for the soccer players.

That excuse, then, couldn’t possibly justify his lateness. You sat there, nervously tapping your pen against the table, your laptop open to your notes and the heavy Contemporary History textbook splayed open to the chapter on World War I. You glanced around every three seconds, but there was still no trace of Jake. Finally, you huffed in frustration, running a hand through your hair.

“What the hell… why did I agree to this?” you muttered under your breath and just at that moment, you heard the study room door swing open with a little too much force. There he was: Jake, zigzagging hastily between the empty tables, his gym bag slung over one shoulder. His dark hair bounced against his forehead with every quick step, and his fluffy wolf ears swayed with the movement. When he finally reached you and leaned over the table to set down his bag, your senses immediately picked up on something that made you stiffen. Beyond his usual wild, warm scent, the air was filled with an unmistakably sweet, almost floral note...a girl’s perfume that was definitely not yours.

“Don’t tell me you’re 23 minutes late because you were hooking up with some girl,” you said, staring him straight in the eyes with a look that could have killed him. At those words, you watched his wolf ears drop instantly, flattening completely against the sides of his head in a clear sign of surrender and submission. Even his tail, peeking out from under his hoodie, dropped abruptly and went still between his legs. You caught a glimpse of his cheeks turning a deep red with embarrassment. His hybrid sense of smell must have already told him you were furious, and Jake swallowed hard, he knew he’d been caught red-handed.

“I...I… no, not a girl! It’s just… the elevator in the guys’ dorm got stuck, I swear! And, um, there just happened to be a girl in there with me… that’s why I smell like this…” he said, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes—but he knew instantly it wouldn’t work on you.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Jake, and I know perfectly well you don’t have practice today,” you said, crossing your arms firmly over your chest. “I saw in the university’s official vlog that soccer players rest on Mondays. So why do you have your soccer bag?”

Backed into a corner, Jake tried to play it cool to lighten the mood, smirking as he curled his lips into that usual crooked smile that drove girls wild. “Oh, so you’ve been stalking me? I didn’t know you were already this interested in my routine, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened, stunned by his audacity. You seriously wanted to slap him, but the only thing stopping you was the fact that you were in a public place.

“I haven’t been stalking you! I just wanted to know if you were late for a valid reason, like soccer. But apparently, that’s not the case,” you said, pointing with a sharp flick of your pen at his hair, which was far too disheveled to be the result of just running down a hallway.

He rolled his eyes slightly, then lowered his voice and stretched his hands across the table toward you. “Come on, Y/n, I’m sorry… I lost track of time, okay? It won’t happen again, I promise. Now let’s sit down and open the books. I’m all yours for the next few hours,” he said, winking at you. But you stopped him immediately, you were really angry, and even though your voice was a whisper to avoid getting kicked out of the library, your tone was unmistakably sharp.

“No, Jake. Listen carefully. This is exactly why I didn’t want to tutor anyone, especially not someone like you. You have zero respect for the time someone else is giving you, sacrificing their own studies to help you. If your absolute priority on this campus is to play the playboy, show up late to every lesson, and take my help for granted, then know this: this will be the first and last session we ever have. Consider this goodbye. You can say hello to failing that test, losing your captain’s armband, and kissing goodbye to every professional league scout watching you! I don’t waste my time on people who won’t commit to something they asked me for. I don’t recall chasing you down, begging to tutor you!”

For the first time in a long time, Jake felt cornered—not just by the harshness of your words, but by the fact that you weren’t like all the other girls who fell at his feet. For the first time, the team captain had found someone who wasn’t willing to let him off the hook for anything. Deep down, he knew he had to step up, and perhaps, beneath the surface, he felt the need to get his act together.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. From now on, I’ll always be on time. I promise,” he said seriously, extending his pinky finger to make a childish “pinky promise” in an attempt to lighten the mood. You studied his expression carefully to see if he was sincere, then said:

“I’ll let it slide this time, but it’s the last warning, Jake.”

Then you looked at his outstretched finger, and though reluctant, you wrapped your pinky around his. In that brief moment when your skin touched, you both felt something an adrenaline rush that stole your breath, while for Jake, it was yet another confirmation that his wolf side responded intensely to your presence. Deep down, he found himself wanting more.

“Today, we’ll start with the triggering causes of World War I and the European alliances of 1914. First, you’ll read the text on your own, and I’ll do the same. Then, I’ve prepared five questions here that will help you summarize the entire first chapter about ten pages, to help you understand it better.”

Jake nodded, carefully looking over the first chapter.

“Go ahead and read the chapter first, and if you don’t understand something, just ask. I’m here to help,” you said gently this time. You noticed his tail swaying slightly from side to side under the table, this time with slow, lifted movements.

“Got it, Professor!” he said, saluting like a captain. You sighed, shaking your head, it was maddening how he could act like such a kid.

So, you both began silently reading the first chapter. Thanks to your study habits, you finished in just ten minutes. When you looked up, you expected Jake to be done too, but you realized he was only halfway through the fifth page. You tried your best to look away so as not to stare and make him self-conscious, but Jake had that kind of magnetism anyone within his radius was almost forced to look at him and he was truly handsome, even that day, dressed in just a loose, dark hoodie and comfortable cargo jeans.

His face perfectly embodied the proud aura of a wolf: thick, black hair that created a stunning contrast with his soft, slightly dark gray ears, which occasionally twitched or moved at the slightest sounds in the library. His eyes still had a hint of puppy-like charm, framed by long, dark lashes, a large, pronounced nose that suited his facial features divinely, and slightly full but not overly so lips.

And then there were his hands: truly beautiful, large, and well-kept. Your eyes lingered a little too long on the prominent veins on the back of his hands, a testament to the physical strain of his training, adorned with several silver rings.

As you watched him, you saw Jake make a small pout that you found incredibly cute. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair to mess it up nervously.

“Struggling?” you asked softly, and he didn’t even look up from the page, answering almost defeatedly: “A little.”

You asked if he’d underlined anything in the book, and he shook his head. “It’s really hard… mostly, I struggle to remember all these names of ministers, archdukes, and tsars, and which territories belong to each one,” he sighed. Moved by a sudden wave of understanding, you said something without even realizing it: “You could use colors as a visual aid, or associate historical dates with the jersey numbers of famous soccer players you know.”

At those words, Jake suddenly looked up, surprised and intrigued. “You’re telling me to try memorizing historical dates using soccer jersey numbers?”

“Yes, and you could also use a different color for each era or nation, so it sticks better in your mind. You can mentally link it to a team. Soccer teams all have different jersey colors, right? The German Empire could be the black jersey, Russia the red one, and so on…” you said, picking up the highlighters. His eyes widened slightly, and a genuine smile lit up his face.

“Wow… I never thought of that. In engineering, we never use colors, but it actually makes perfect sense for a subject like history!”

At that point, he started asking you a series of general questions to better understand how to apply the trick: he asked for explanations about the year of the Triple Alliance, the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and how the European balance had collapsed. You listened, and finally told him:

“Alright, now try to answer at least two of the five questions I prepared for you. But before you write, you need to highlight the parts of the text you find truly important, using the colors we decided on.”

After an hour and a half, you’d covered two chapters, and Jake seemed fully absorbed in his studies—thanks both to your help and your company. He’d finally found a rhythm with your color and soccer association method. Then you glanced at the time on your phone screen and sighed loudly. Jake immediately looked up, his ears perking up curiously.

“Everything okay?”

You nodded, starting to gather your things. When he saw you stand up, something inside him snapped he wanted to stay with you, but he didn’t understand why.

“Yeah, sorry, but I have to go to work. I would’ve stayed here studying a little longer, but not all of us have a scholarship secured thanks to soccer!” you said, slipping your laptop into your bag. Jake stretched in his chair, the muscles in his shoulders tensing under his loose hoodie, and curled his lips into a smirk.

“Was that a dig at me or at athletes in general?” he asked, pointing at himself. You shrugged. “Take it however you want.”

But Jake wasn’t the type to back down easily, and he loved having the last word. So he leaned forward on the table, looking at you intently: “Spoiler: I don’t have an athletic scholarship, sweetheart!”

You stared at him with wide eyes, freezing with your bag strap halfway over your shoulder, and stammered, clearly shocked—it was extremely impossible. “H-How’s that possible? You’re the team captain…”

He rocked slightly in his chair, and even from there, you could tell that despite being 23, he still acted like a kid. “I was just too good at both sports and school, even back in high school. I didn’t need an athletic scholarship, I got in on my grades,” he said smugly. Your mouth snapped shut, and you sighed, running a hand over your face, almost embarrassed.

“Right… I always forget you’re studying engineering, after all.”  “Touché, Y/n,” he chuckled, then his expression turned a little more serious. “It’s just Contemporary History that I can’t seem to like or get into my head. Because believe me, if I liked it or found a logic in it, I would’ve gotten a 100 like you.”

You chuckled, amused by his excess of self-confidence, and gestured with your hands to tone it down. “Don’t be such a know-it-all egotist, Jake! But… take it as a personal challenge… who knows, maybe not for the next test, it’s too soonbut for the one after that, you might even beat me… if you start liking the subject,” you said, openly teasing him with a challenging smile you’d never given any other guy before. Jake lightly bit his lower lip and muttered under his breath: “Challenge accepted, sweetheart.”

You said goodbye with a quick wave and turned, walking briskly to exit the west wing of the library and rush to the bar for your shift, your heart beating suspiciously fast.

As you walked away, Jake’s hybrid instincts were literally rejoicing inside him. Under the table, his tail began to wag frantically, and his ears stretched forward to catch the sound of your footsteps. His wolf instinct was celebrating a double victory: not only had he managed to get you to give in and tutor him, but he’d just discovered that behind your cold, defensive armor, there was a girl capable of challenging him and holding her own with wit and that drove him wild. But what made him gloat the most was the scent you’d left in the air when you said goodbye: your smell of fear had faded, replaced by something sweeter and he couldn’t wait for the next lesson.

You and Jake had been studying together for two weeks now, and you would NEVER have imagined that, deep down, he wasn’t actually so bad. Sure, he was still a living jester...no lesson passed without him trying to tease you but there was one thing that had really stuck with you, something that had made your heart flutter more than once: he strictly respected physical distance. After that hug he’d given you, and after sensing how cold you’d been in returning it, Jake had never tried to touch you or get too close again. He’d limited himself to verbal provocations and to you, that meant a lot, because for so many guys, the word "no" simply didn’t exist in their vocabulary.

That morning, though, he’d sent you a WhatsApp message that had left you a little taken aback, though you understood why. The campus had erupted in chaos after the soccer team won an away game, and he’d asked if you could come to hisplace to study instead—he’d gotten back late last night and was completely wrecked.

At first, you’d been pretty reluctant, but he’d quickly reassured you, saying you wouldn’t be alone because there were six other people in the house, and at least one of his roommates would be there. So you’d agreed and now here you were, standing in front of… a house? No, this looked more like a villa. You thought you must’ve gotten the address wrong, but when you stepped closer to the intercom, you read the names of the seven guys who lived there: Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, Ni-ki.

So you rang the bell, expecting Jake to answer immediately, but instead, a stunning guy with chiseled features and an incredibly charming vibe opened the door. You immediately noticed his dark ears and sleek, glossy tail: he was a black cat hybrid.

“You’re Y/n, right? Come in, Jake’s upstairs,” he said with a smile. You nodded, but before you could even respond, you heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, a tall guy with brown hair and slightly almond-shaped eyes—unmistakable black panther ears—peered into the hallway.

You thought this place was less of a student house and more of a model recruitment center...

The panther hybrid looked at you and pouted like a child, sighing:  “Oh, no… I was hoping my takeout had arrived.” You smiled timidly, a little intimidated by his size, but the panther’s eyes widened as soon as he met your gaze. Pointing at you, he said: “Oh my God, wait! Are you the famous Y/n? Jake’s tutor? Damn, lately he hasn’t stopped talking about....”

But before Ni-ki could finish, all three of you heard Jake’s loud voice call out: “Ni-ki!”

Like a bolt of lightning, Jake appeared at the top of the stairs and slid down the steps, stretching out a hand to yank Ni-ki’s shirt sleeve and silence him instantly. Ni-ki just laughed, completely unfazed, and said: “Oh, hyung! You’re here too, with us at home!”

Jake really wanted to strangle him, but he loved his little brother too much. When you finally looked up at Jake, you noticed he was dressed extremely comfortably: gray sweatpants, an oversized university T-shirt, his dark hair still damp from the shower, and a white towel draped over his shoulders, giving him a cozy, domestic vibe and at the same time, he looked at you and gave you a genuine smile, saying:

“Hey, Y/n. Don’t mind this bunch of lunatics. Follow me, we’ll study in my room so it’s quieter.”

But the second he said those words, you froze on the spot. Your mind went into overdrive:

His room? Alone?

Your brain short-circuited, and you stood completely still on the doormat, clutching your books to your chest like a protective shield. You did not want to go into a room alone...especially not with a guy.

Both Jay (the black cat hybrid) and Ni-ki turned to look at you strangely, since all three of them were predator hybrids, their senses instantly picked up on the drastic shift in the air, as well as the sudden change in your clean scent, which had just been overpowered by a sharp trail of embarrassment mixed with a strong, clear note of defensive fear and panic.

Hybrids had incredibly strong olfactory instincts, and Jake froze on the spot. His smile vanished, replaced by something he didn’t often feel or see. But with you, he’d smelled that scent before: the first time he’d spoken to you, and again when he’d hugged you. With an incredibly gentle and reassuring tone, he said:

“We’ll keep the bedroom door wide open, okay, Y/n? If that makes you feel more comfortable and you two… no nonsense from now on, got it?” He directed this mostly at Ni-ki, who rolled his eyes, while Jay, understanding the situation, gave a serious nod and walked toward the kitchen: “Don’t worry, I’ll go make a snack.”

Jake looked at you again, giving you a soft nod to invite you to follow him up the stairs. Before you moved, you took one last look at Ni-ki and Jay, who returned your gaze with warm, welcoming smiles. You let out a small sigh of relief—those guys didn’t seem dangerous at all… in fact, they seemed really nice and Jake… Jake was proving to be far more attentive and protective than you’d ever wanted to admit to yourself.

When you stepped into Jake’s room, you were immediately enveloped by a mix of warm, inviting scents: the fresh aroma of pine-scented body wash he’d just used, a rich note of cedarwood, and that signature musky scent unique to his hybrid nature—which, over time, had begun to make you feel strangely safe.

Your eyes landed on the center of the room, where a large, slightly unmade king-sized bed sat with its gray sheets tangled. Nearby, a desk was buried under stacks of calculation sheets and heavy structural engineering manuals. The shelves, on the other hand, were packed with frames, photos of Jake as a child, and you smiled at the sight of him with his wolf ears still too big for his head. There were pictures of him hugging the other six hybrids from the house, all grinning with mud-streaked jerseys, and beside the photos stood rows of gleaming trophies and medals. Your eyes widened, and you let out a quiet whistle at the sight of so many merit certificates for math Olympiads.

 “Wow… I knew you were good, but not this good,” you said, picking up a certificate with his name printed in gold letters. Jake shrugged, but you noticed the smirk tugging at his lips, his ears perking up with pride he knew he was smart, and damn good at what he did.

“I told you I wasn’t bad. History’s just my one weak spot,” he said.

You nodded, setting the frame down. When you saw him move toward the bed and stretch out comfortably on his stomach, with history notes scattered in front of him, you couldn’t help but comment: “You know, normal people study sitting in a chair, facing a desk.”

But he just waved a hand dismissively, burying his face in the pillow for a second. “Overrated. If I can stretch out on my bed and study, why not?” Jake lifted his head to look at you, and in that moment, your scent: a delicate blend of fresh strawberries, cream, and a clean trail of vanilla filled the room, mingling perfectly with his hybrid scent. Jake went still for a second, breathing deeply, his expression shifting into something he didn’t let show. That scent… it’s heavenly, he thought before he could stop himself. Then he shook his head slightly, unsettled by the spontaneous thought.

Heavenly? Damn, Jake, what the hell are you saying? It’s… it’s just a nice smell, that’s all… focus.

Oblivious to his thoughts, you took the desk chair, turned it around, and sat sideways, balancing your notes on your knees. “Overrated or not, this is how I’m used to studying. If you want to stay there, fine, but I don’t want to find you snoring in five minutes,” you said with a half-smile. Jake chuckled, and you saw his tail, peeking out from under his hoodie thumping eagerly against the mattress, a clear sign he genuinely enjoyed your company.

“First of all, I don’t snore. Second, I’ve never fallen asleep during a study session and I bet that soon, even you’ll end up sitting on this bed… it’s amazing, sweetheart. Memory foam with built-in massage tech, you know, as a soccer player, I need the best for my body,” he said, shifting slightly onto his side, teasing you with a mischievous grin and a wink. “Everyone who tries it wants to come back to sleep in it… there’s plenty of space… and I’m an excellent human heating pad, you know as a wolf hybrid, my body heat is way higher than yours. Perfect if you get cold in the winter!” he added with another wink.

You wanted to smack him with the history book for his audacity, but instead, you just blushed and shot him a glare. “Stop talking nonsense and let’s start studying. We’ve got the first exam on Friday, and if you fail, I fail as a tutor.”

You and Jake had been studying for over two hours, and in that time, Jay had brought you delicious snacks to the room, and you’d even met Sunghoon, another one of the roommates. You’d already heard about him on campus: he was the famous captain of the hockey team, and he, too, was a hybrid, specifically a snow fox, as well as one of the most popular athletes at the university. He also worked as a model for brands like Adidas, and everyone talked about him.

After the intense review session, you stood up for a moment to stretch your back and arms. Your eyes kept wandering around Jake’s room, and he watched you carefully from the bed, noticing the tension in your body. “Come on, Y/n, I bet your back is killing you from sitting on that wooden chair. Just sit with me on the bed for five minutes, I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he said.

To prove his intentions, he laced his fingers behind his back, looking up at you with a sweet, slightly reluctant smile. Knowing how wary you were, you finally gave in and sat on the edge of his bed. You immediately felt how incredibly soft it was.

Jake patted the large, dark fabric headboard, inviting you to get comfortable. So you settled in, half-sitting with your back resting against it, while he stayed stretched out beside you, his laptop and a pile of notes in front of him as he continued underlining according to your schemes.

After a little while, the exhaustion from the previous days caught up with you, and you yawned widely. Jake lifted his gaze from the papers. “Are you tired, sweetness?”

“A little,” you admitted, tilting your head back. He stretched slightly, letting out a sigh. Then, before you could predict it but driven irresistibly by his hybrid nature, which, in moments of tiredness or when wanting to make someone feel safe, instinctively sought contact with its “pack” to share warmth and relax, Jake turned onto his side and, with complete naturalness, rested his head on the upper part of your legs, using them as a soft pillow.

Your eyes widened because his face was so close to your stomach. You immediately felt the impressive warmth of his body against your skin through your jeans just like that time he’d hugged you. He radiated an almost feverish heat, typical of wolf hybrids. From this close position, you could perfectly see how long and dark his lashes were, how his ears had partially lowered backward and deep inside, you felt a sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to reach out and touch them, they looked so soft and fluffy at the same time, and you wanted to know if they felt like a normal dog’s or cat’s.

Jake’s body relaxed completely against you, and you, having no idea what to do and with your heart beating a mile a minute, said his name softly: “Jake…”

He just let out a low murmur, keeping his eyes half-closed because he liked feeling your body against his—until you spoke.

“Why did you rest your head on my legs?” you asked, slightly curious. He gave a light shrug against your thigh.

“I know you hate sudden physical contact… and I’m not squeezing or openly touching you with my hands, so you can see I don’t want to hurt you. You can trust me. It’s just for support,” he said as his eyes opened fully, and two amber pools looked up at you, smiling. As your head tilted toward him, in that moment of absolute closeness, Jake’s sharp sense of smell picked up on something that left him breathless: your strawberry and vanilla scent suddenly intensified in the air, growing sweeter. There was no trace of the acidic note of fear, nor the detachment of embarrassment—because you were starting to trust him.

Without even realizing it, you lifted a trembling hand, and your fingers barely brushed one of his fluffy ears, right where the fur transitioned from light gray to the super-dark shade at the tip.

You froze instantly at that sound, blushing all the way to the tips of your ears, and stammered:

“J-Jake… God, I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know...” But Jake burst into genuine laughter, and you caught a glimpse of his dimples, thinking he looked damn cute.

“No, don’t worry, you didn’t hurt me, sweetness,” he said, slowly reopening his eyes. “It’s totally normal that I growled. I told you the other day, both our ears and tails are the most sensitive parts of our hybrid bodies. If they’re touched the right way, they stimulate a huge amount of pleasure, even strong excitement inside us… it’s just a biological reflex. We can’t help it.” He said this almost shyly, and at those words, you immediately pulled your hand away from his ears but Jake immediately pouted in protest, letting out a small, annoyed whine his sense of smell had instantly noticed the loss of your skin’s warmth. He looked up at you with an almost pleading expression.

“Can I take your hand, Y/n?”

You stared at him as you leaned over him, and though hesitant, you offered him your hand. Jake, however, was incredibly gentle. He didn’t interlace his fingers with yours but instead wrapped his large, warm fingers around your wrist, guiding your arm upward until your hand rested again at the base of his gray ears.

“We hybrids are very sensitive to both smells and touch,” he explained, watching you carefully. “And if someone becomes part of our circle, our life… well, we quickly become much more insistent with physical contact. Let’s just say we have an almost physical need for it. That’s why I stretched out with my head on your legs. My wolf just wanted to be close to you.”He said this without realizing it, but he didn’t say things like that to just anyone… in fact, he hoped you wouldn’t fully understand what he was implying. For your part, you just nodded.

“I… well, I don’t know much about hybrids. I’ve always attended all-human schools before university, so this is the first time I’ve been in close contact with one of you.”

Jake studied your reactions from below, sensing that you were relaxed, and said: “Well, there are many first times in life, and this is a new first for you. Don’t be shy about touching me, sweetness… I can sense it, your scent, your instinct, they tell me you want to.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment at being caught, and said: “Sometimes it bothers me, this thing. You sense and understand things through smells that we humans will never be able to comprehend.”

He chuckled but didn’t move, and when he felt your fingers—now moving with more confidence—begin to stroke the base of his ears again, Jake let out a long sigh of pure relief and closed his eyes. He felt so relaxed in that moment, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years. Only his mom and grandmother could calm him with just a touch. He felt how his body was vibrating with total submission to your touch, but he quickly shook that thought from his mind. You smiled because you liked the idea of being able to relax someone as energetic and hyperactive as him. With the tips of your fingers, you moved from his ears to his thick, black hair, gently ruffling it, and asked, slightly shy:

“Why do you hybrids love physical contact so much? Is it something that comes from your puppy-like nature, or…?”

Jake opened his eyes, staring straight into yours. “Yes, it partly comes from when we’re pups. But actually, all hybrids need constant physical contact, both as kids and as adults, especially during heat. It can be suppressed with medication, of course, but doctors say it’s not good for our health or mental balance. And then… when a hybrid finds his mate, there are specific ways he uses to be with her.”

Curious, you tilted your head slightly to the side and asked: “And what are these ways?”

“Well… besides being touched by his mate, the hybrid loves to touch her in return. It’s a little embarrassing, but in the early stages of a relationship, it’s constant: holding her hand, hugging her, squeezing her… but the most important thing for us is to make sure our scent completely soaks into her. We want our chemistry to stay on her skin, on her clothes, so the whole pack and other males know who she belongs to.”

You were slightly shocked by this possessive and biological revelation, your eyes widening as you struggled to respond, unable to fully grasp the nature of hybrids. Jake, seeing your petrified face and sudden confusion, didn’t miss the chance to tease you.

“Oh God, you should see your face, sweetheart! What’s wrong? Are you afraid I’ll rub my wolf scent all over you any second so you’ll smell like me all over campus? Don’t worry… for today, I’ll settle for your legs as a pillow, but I won’t make any promises for our next lessons!”

You huffed, looking away to hide the heat still burning on your cheeks, and said: “I definitely don’t want your scent on me, especially if I want to have any chance with Soobin.”

At those words, Jake froze on your lap. His ears snapped backward, stiffening, and his tail’s movement stopped instantly, you’d almost forgotten about it. The only reason you’d accepted this compromise and were helping him with Contemporary History was his deal: using his influence to get Soobin’s attention. For a second, his possessive, territorial animal instinct pressed to emerge and growl at that name, but his human side quickly regained control. He slowly lifted himself from your legs, sitting on the edge of the bed, and looked at you intensely, saying:

“Relax, the only way a hybrid’s scent spreads to a girl is if they do sexual things—which means undressing and sniffing each other—or if the guy bites her. So don’t worry, you won’t run that risk with me, Y/n.”

You frowned at his answer, then checked the time on your phone and said it was getting late and that you absolutely had to go. Jake returned to being his usual carefree self, wearing a mask of indifference. He nodded and asked if you wanted a ride, but you refused, explaining that Allie would pick you up.

Just as you reached the entrance hall, the front door swung open, and Heeseung—the basketball team captain and an adorable hamster hybrid—burst in, beaming as he held dark streamers in his hands, shouting at the top of his lungs: “Friday, I want all six of you dressed up for Halloween because we’re throwing a legendary party here! No excuses!” He looked at all his friends, and a chorus of reactions immediately rose from the kitchen and living room:

Jungwon and Sunoo—a cat hybrid and a fox hybrid with huge ears—groaned at the idea of chaos in the house. Ni-ki enthusiastically exclaimed, “Awesome!” Jay muttered that he’d prepare amazing cocktails for the occasion, while Sunghoon, still sprawled on the couch, just rolled his eyes because he wasn’t a fan of parties at all.

As you watched the scene, you suddenly felt warm breath right next to your ear. Jake had leaned toward you, his lips just millimeters from your skin:

“This is the perfect excuse for us to be seen together by Soobin, sweetheart…” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. “Tell me how you’ll dress for the party… because you are coming, right? He’ll definitely be there.”

You turned abruptly, finding his challenging smile just a centimeter from your face. And if there was one thing you hated, it was crowded parties—but the idea of finally talking to Soobin pushed you to do something crazy.

“Yes, I’ll be there… but only if Allie can come too.”

Jake nodded, widening his sly grin. You said goodbye to all the guys with a wave and finally left that villa. As soon as you got into Allie’s car, you told her everything in detail. But your best friend could tell deep down that you wanted to go to that party to be with Jake—because for the entire ride, you hadn’t even mentioned Soobin.

As soon as the door closed behind you, silence fell over the entire living room. Jake turned to go back upstairs but froze on the spot—all six of his friends were staring at him with their arms crossed, wearing smiles that were half-amused and half-suspiciously knowing. All six hybrids in that room were literally breathing in the pheromones Jake had unconsciously released over the past two hours.

Jake felt his cheeks heat more than they should, turning bright red. He wanted to deny everything, but then Heeseung, the oldest in the group, twitched his hamster ears with a mix of amusement and curiosity, shook his head, and dropped the final bombshell, looking at the others:

“Guys, I think the first one to find his lifemate is actually one of the two biggest playboys and frat boys in the entire university… Who would’ve ever thought that the great Jake Sim would fall at the feet of a nerd who didn’t even know he existed a few weeks ago?”

Jake’s blush deepened, spreading under the fur of his ears, which twitched nervously. He growled, baring a hint of fang to hide his panic: “Shut up, you don’t know what you’re talking about! She’s just my tutor, and I’m just keeping my end of the deal. At the party on Friday, you’ll see...she’s into Soobin.” Jake then bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

But as he stormed up, his tail....always the traitor, began wagging frantically at the thought of seeing you dressed up for Halloween and his friends were absolutely right… the wolf inside him knew it all too well.

The house of the seven hybrids had been completely transformed for the Halloween party. Thick cobwebs hung from the ceiling corners, ghost-shaped sheets floated mid-air, and witch hats seemed to fly on their own thanks to invisible wires. The place looked like it had stepped straight out of a horror cartoon rather than a university party. Soft, rhythmic music played in the background as people from the campus began filling the hallways and living rooms of the villa.

You and Allie had arrived together. Allie was wearing a sexy pirate costume that suited her perfectly, while you had gone with the plan you’d agreed on with Jake: a lilac and purple dress inspired by Rapunzel. According to your friend, it looked divine on you, and to be honest, even you felt pretty looking at yourself in the mirror. However, you couldn’t help but notice that the corset was a little too tight, accentuating your curves in a way you usually disliked but tonight, it gave you an extra boost of self-confidence. Deep down, you were a beautiful girl, but the only thing that made you wrinkle your nose a little was the cleavage, which made you feel a bit uncomfortable under the gazes of the people you passed. The rest of the outfit, though, was perfect: your hair was gathered in a soft braid decorated with tiny fake flowers, and you held a lightweight plastic frying pan, artfully stained with fake blood. You seriously hoped Jake had kept his word about dressing as Flynn Rider.

When your eyes finally spotted him near the bar corner, a small, spontaneous smile appeared on your face. Allie, who had been watching you carefully out of the corner of her eye, noticed that spark in your eyes as you looked at Jake. Deep down, your friend had already figured it all out, but she chose to stay silent, driven by a strong protective instinct toward you.

Jake, for his part, looked simply perfect. He wore the typical blue vest over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, showcasing his powerful biceps and the prominent veins of his athletic arms. Dark pants completed the look, but what truly took your breath away was his hairstyle: his dark hair was perfectly parted in the middle with Flynn’s signature rebellious tuft. You thought he should opt for that fluffy, middle-parted hair more often. On his cheeks and neck, he had drawn small, fake red scratches, as if he had just barely escaped the clutches of the law.

When Jake turned and saw you, he froze mid-step for what felt like an eternity. His wolf nose instantly picked up your scent in the air—a heavenly, thick aroma of fresh strawberries, powdered sugar, and a warm note of pure vanilla. At that olfactory contact, his tail twitched violently under his costume, swaying so hard from side to side that he had to restrain himself to keep it from breaking free of the fabric.

His wolf instinct gave a primal jolt: he thought you looked incredibly beautiful, and at the same time, he almost didn’t recognize you. He had never seen you so exposed, with your figure and curves so visibly on display. Jake swallowed hard at the sight of your shy smile and ran a hand through his hair, momentarily ruining the perfect part. His animal instinct was literally screaming at him to reach out, grab you by the waist, and carry you away from all those people to keep you close to him. But he knew he had to rein in that urge, you weren’t his, and besides, you were interested in another guy. Damn, you looked stunning, and his eyes couldn’t stop drinking you in.

He closed the distance between you with feline steps, leaning slightly toward you, and whispered directly into your ear in a low voice that sent shivers down your spine:

“Damn, sweetheart… I knew you were hiding something under those hoodies or sweaters, but I didn’t expect all this,” he said, unable to stop rambling because he couldn’t take his eyes off you, especially not from the line of your cleavage. You blushed violently, and in self-defense, you crossed your arms over your chest, clutching the frying pan to your side.

“In your dreams, Sim. I only came here because you asked me to, and because we have a deal. Otherwise, I’d be comfortably in my room right now trying to compose music for my class… but I’m here because you promised me something. You have to help me get to know Soobin… speaking of which, where is Soobin? You promised he’d be here.”

At the sound of that name, Jake’s smug smile vanished in a millisecond. His wolf ears twitched slightly backward, flattening almost imperceptibly against his hair—a clear sign of pure annoyance and territorial jealousy. His body stiffened for a moment, irritated by the fact that your first thought had gone to another guy just as he was devouring you with his eyes. He gave a vague nod toward the kitchen. “He’s in there, in the kitchen with Heeseung and the other basketball guys but don’t rush, sweetheart… first, you need to loosen up… and have a drink.”

Before you could tell Jake you had no intention of drinking alcohol, he turned and started walking toward the kitchen with confident steps. Following him inside, you were immediately greeted by three enormous glass bowls filled with rum punch and chopped fruit. At the sight, your instinct screamed at you to run out of the room...high school memories threatened to resurface, and you feared they’d ruin what could have been a fun night.

Jake, unaware of your internal struggle, grabbed a ladle and poured himself a glass of the reddish liquid. From the note pinned to the table, you read that it was a cocktail made with rum, prosecco, and berries. When he turned and held out the glass to you, you looked up at him and said in a thin voice: “Thanks, Jake, but… I don’t drink alcohol… I don’t like it.”You tried to hide it, but Jake wasn’t stupid. His hybrid sixth sense was far too sharp, and he saw the slight but unmistakable tremor in your hand as you refused the glass. He noticed how your posture had suddenly stiffened, and, intrigued, he tilted his head, studying your reaction.

“Mmm, okay. Wait here a second,” he said without teasing you or trying to pressure you. You simply nodded, clutching the plastic frying pan to your chest, and watched him disappear behind the door of a pantry at the back of the kitchen.

Left alone, you turned to look around. You saw Allie talking or maybe arguing with Heeseung, and your heart literally leapt into your throat when Soobin walked into the kitchen. He was dressed as Cullen from Twilight in a baseball game version—white and blue jersey, a backward cap, and even a baseball glove tucked into his left hand. You immediately thought he looked cute, especially when he noticed you, and his famous dimples deepened in his cheeks. Your eyes, however, instinctively searched for Jake’s figure.

Where the hell did he go? Soobin was walking straight toward you, and you thought, half-panicked: Where the hell has that wolf gotten himself? Why is he leaving me alone right now?!

But then a part of you forced yourself to reason after all, this was the plan, right? Jake was supposed to give you the chance to meet Soobin and make an impression. Yet deep down, you wanted him there with you so badly, and you didn’t understand why.

When Soobin reached you, he gave you a sweet smile. “Oh my God, Y/n? Is that you? Jake’s tutor, right? Damn… you look stunning tonight. The costume suits you perfectly,” he said, even stumbling slightly over the last word as his eyes lingered inevitably on the line of your braid and the lilac corset. Your cheeks burned, turning burgundy in a millisecond from compliments you weren’t used to hearing. You said:

“You… you don’t look bad either… I mean, you look really cute,” and a second later, you wanted to slap yourself in the face. You had no idea how to flirt, and having a decent conversation with the guy you liked felt like a titanic task.

But just at that moment, Jake reemerged from the pantry, holding both a sealed glass bottle of Coca-Cola and a bottle of water. The scene before him, however, made him freeze on the spot. Seeing you blush, smelling your strawberry scent grow more intense and vulnerable for another male, literally drove him wild—and he didn’t understand why.

Okay, you were cute. Many times, you drove him crazy. Many times, he’d sought you out in class but you weren’t his type....you were too… well, a little too shy. You usually gave as good as you got, but you preferred to keep to yourself or stick with a few people, while he loved being almost the center of attention. He didn’t understand why he felt so strange when he was with you.

A wave of pure, territorial jealousy burned in his chest. Under his costume, his tail tensed instantly, becoming as rigid as a poker, and his ears flattened. But when his eyes met yours, Jake read your silent plea for help and your embarrassment. He understood that this was the exact moment to step in and play his card.

Jake hurried over to you, and without touching you, you immediately felt his presence as he stood in front of you with a serious expression. “Hey, sweetheart, I got you a Coca-Cola and a sealed bottle of water, so you know exactly what you’re drinking,” he said, smiling warmly as he handed them to you. Once again, you were caught off guard by how well Jake could read you. It was incredible how this guy—who, just a few weeks ago, you’d considered nothing more than a shallow, heartbreaking athlete—could pick up on every subtle nuance of your discomfort and protect you in such a quiet, precise way.

You thanked him shyly, taking the cold glass bottle in your hands. It was at that moment that Jake turned toward the other guy.

“Oh, Soobin, you’re here too,” he said with a crooked grin. Soobin wasn’t intimidated by Jake’s predator-like aura and met the soccer captain’s gaze head-on. “Well, you know I’m here every weekend. And when I saw your tutor alone in the middle of this pack of hybrids, I came over right away to see how much sweetness and beauty she had as Rapunzel.”

Jake glared at Soobin, then shifted his gaze to you, as if expecting a reaction. Feeling caught in an invisible grip and wanting to ease the tension, you said: “Well… it was my idea to dress as Rapunzel and Flynn. Jake doesn’t look bad tonight either, to be honest.”

At those words, a wave of immense pride washed over the wolf hybrid. Jake chuckled, visibly pleased by your unexpected compliment. He drastically closed the distance between you, eliminating the personal space you’d established, and you watched as his large hand lowered and gently brushed against yours. You bowed your head for a moment, watching his fingers slowly spread across your palm, ready to welcome yours. Driven by a sudden, overwhelming sense of security from the fact that he’d thought to protect your drink and the primal warmth radiating from his presence—you interlaced your hand with his, fitting your fingers between his. It was a spontaneous gesture that made your heart race, because you’d never thought that this Jake—the one everyone talked about as a playboy or someone who only thought of himself—could be like this.

Jake tightened his grip around your hand—your fingers were ridiculously cute and small compared to his—and lifted his chin toward his rival. With a possessive tone that brooked no argument, he said: “It was a pleasure, Soobin. But Y/n is with me tonight, and I need to show her around the house.”

Without giving Soobin time to respond, Jake started walking toward the villa’s stairs, gently pulling you behind him. As you climbed the first wooden steps, you leaned toward him and whispered: “Do you think it’s right to leave him already? He seemed really into talking to me…” You felt bad for cutting short the only real conversation you’d started with the guy you had a crush on. But Jake couldn’t have cared less about what you thought in that moment or what Soobin might have been thinking. His only goal was to get you away from the other males’ gazes and claim you for himself, because damn, that night he wanted all your attention. So he took you to the very top of the stairs, to a raised and partially shadowed spot from which you could perfectly see the entire party below—the crowded living room and the music echoing off the walls.

“He’s still watching us, sweetheart,” he murmured against your ear, his warm breath on the bare skin of your neck making you shudder. Instinctively, you tried to turn your head downward, toward the kitchen, to look for Soobin’s figure. But Jake’s free hand shot lightning-fast to your face, his long, warm fingers caressing your cheek as he firmly held your face in place, preventing you from turning. You weren’t supposed to let Soobin see you flustered by the guy you liked.

“Don’t give him the satisfaction of having your eyes on him. Otherwise, he’ll realize you’re interested and that he has control over you,” he warned in a low voice, his gaze fixed on your lips. You swallowed hard at how well Jake could embody his character, and trapped between his hand on your face and the stair railing, you stammered in confusion: “A-and what the hell am I supposed to do, Jake? I… I’m not good at this stuff. It’s already a lot if I managed to talk to him for two minutes straight without making a fool of myself.” You said this with a half-smile, and Jake looked at you intensely, his ears lowering slightly in an unexpectedly tender shade of sweetness.

“But with me, you don’t have a problem talking, Y/n. You don’t freeze up. You hold your own, you answer back. Maybe… maybe you need to find someone you actually feel comfortable with, not someone your mind just thinks is cool, but who ultimately just makes you feel a little… constant anxiety?” Jake said this without fully realizing what he’d just admitted. For him, those words carried immense meaning—almost a declaration of intent tied to his biological nature. He wanted you to understand that love or attraction shouldn’t be a mental effort or an ideal of perfection to chase (like Soobin). Instead, it should be a natural chemistry based on loyalty, security, teasing, and a safe harbor where your body and soul felt protected and free to express themselves without fear. And those feelings? You definitely didn’t feel them with Soobin—but you did with him. He wanted you to understand that the wolf in front of you was the only one capable of naturally breaking down your protective barriers. He knew you were hiding something that had happened to you, and he couldn’t wait to see you lower your guard and let go with him.

But you didn’t have time to process the concept or respond, because Jake had closed the last millimeter of distance between you and pressed his lips firmly against yours, catching you completely off guard at the top of those stairs.

Jake’s full lips pressed against yours, and your brain completely short-circuited at the sensation of that physical contact between you and him.

What the hell was he doing? Why was he kissing you like this, in front of everyone, and especially under Soobin’s gaze? But before your mind could even formulate a protest or find the strength to push him away, the devastating warmth of his body enveloped you. As if by magic, the anxiety that had been gnawing at you since before you even entered their house vanished. After just a few seconds, almost as if moved by an involuntary reflex, you parted your lips slightly. Jake let out a warm, trembling sigh right against your mouth—a sound of pure relief—because you hadn’t slapped him in front of everyone, even though he knew you hated being touched. Damn, he’d been dreaming for a while now of knowing what it was like to kiss you. And he began to kiss you with a disarming gentleness.

It wasn’t the rough or arrogant kiss you would have expected from the soccer team captain. His lips moved against yours softly, as if he were afraid that at any moment, you might pull away. Jake gently sucked on your lower lip, savoring every single millimeter of your mouth, and you tasted the sweetness of the Coca-Cola mixed with the fruity flavor of his alcoholic aperitif. You would have never imagined that the campus playboy could kiss a girl with such care and reverence. Your cheeks burned as you felt his hand gently caress your cheek. Without realizing it, your hands—which had been timidly resting against his chest—slid upward, settling firmly on his broad shoulders, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. Jake leaned even closer into you, pressing you gently against the railing at the top of the stairs, isolating you from the rest of the world.

When your strawberry and vanilla scent suddenly became even sweeter and more intense than usual—a clear sign that your body had surrendered to him and that you no longer felt any fear—Jake broke the kiss for a millisecond. He growled in an incredibly rough, low voice: “Damn… you smell so good, Y/n. Stay like this… please.” He said this against your lips, and you didn’t understand the meaning of that comment. You tried to pull your head back to protest and ask for an explanation, but Jake, seeing your deliciously parted lips, didn’t waste time. He took advantage of that moment and slid his warm tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss against your lips, which were increasingly drawn to him.

At the same time, his hand slid down from your face, settling firmly around your waist, gripping the lilac fabric of your Rapunzel dress. In that moment, Jake held his breath—he was afraid that this contact might trigger your usual resistance. He hoped with all his heart that you wouldn’t pull your hand away or break free from him. But to his surprise, you kissed him back. And you did it in a way that left him completely stunned: your fingers tightened with more force on his shoulders, and your tongue responded to his with an initial shyness that quickly turned into a desperate, hungry rhythm, as if you had found a secret refuge in this guy you thought you couldn’t stand. You pressed yourself closer to his chest, forgetting about Soobin, the people below the stairs, and everything else.

Jake literally smiled against your lips, savoring your total surrender, while the wolf instinct inside him screamed at the top of its lungs that you were his mate, that he should never let you go, and that he should especially not let other guys have you.

Jake’s human side forcefully pushed back the animal instinct that wanted to take control. He didn’t want to scare you—he just wanted to savor this incredible moment with you. Your tongues continued to seek each other relentlessly, as if it were just the two of you in that house. And maybe it was, because from where you stood, only someone climbing the stairs could see what was happening.

Then, seized by a sudden boldness you didn’t even know you possessed, you lightly nibbled on his lower lip. Jake was completely caught off guard by such an intimate, unexpected, and boldly provocative gesture from you. He wanted more, and a low, rough moan escaped his lips. At that sound, you felt your cheeks burn damn, Jake was kissing you and moaning in the middle of a packed party!

This realization set off an alarm bell in your mind, jolting your rationality back to life. This was not part of the deal you’d made with him. Breathless, with your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst, you pulled away from him by just a few millimeters, breaking the kiss. Even though, deep down, you wanted his lips against yours again, you quickly pushed that thought away. Both of you had glossy eyes, your lips visibly redder and fuller than usual.

Embarrassed and adrenaline-fueled, you lowered your gaze and started nervously fiddling with the lilac tulle of your Rapunzel dress, trying to compose yourself. Jake, on the other hand, simply couldn’t stop looking at you. His chest rose and fell rapidly under his Flynn Rider shirt. When you finally looked up again, your eyes locked once more, unable to pull away, as if they were always searching for each other. You stammered:

“I… I… why did you kiss me, Jake?”

Jake gave a small, crooked smile and repeated softly the same words from earlier: “He’s still watching us, sweetheart.”

This time, though, he didn’t bring his hand to your cheek to block your face, leaving you free to check if Soobin was indeed watching. When you slowly turned toward the living room below, your eyes immediately caught Soobin’s figure. He was standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, with a hint of obvious jealousy mixed with frustration in his gaze. Once again, Jake had won—because he hadn’t expected someone like Jake to claim you so boldly in front of everyone, especially since you weren’t his ideal type of girl.

As you spun back toward Jake, confused, he looked down at you, stretching his wolf ears with a proud air. Then he murmured:

“Give it less than a week… you’ll see, Soobin will come looking for you and ask you out. Because very soon, everyone here will know I kissed you. But they’ll also know you’re not my girlfriend. And you’ll officially be the girl who stood up to Jake Sim. And believe me, sweetheart… every guy on campus will become terribly curious to find out who you are.”

Was Jake Sim a fortune teller? Or maybe a genie? No, because ever since you’d set foot on campus that Monday morning after the Halloween weekend, his prophecy had come true 100%: people couldn’t stop staring at you. Every time you walked down the hallway, there were whispers as you passed. Classmates and even complete strangers looked at you differently now—all because they’d spotted you with the university’s golden boy.

At that exact moment, you rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time as you stood behind the café counter, preparing hot chocolates. Allie was leaning against the milk crates, staring at her phone screen with wide eyes. “I can’t believe it… my best friend, the person who spends the most time in bed writing sheet music or watching K-dramas, ended up on the university blog! There’s a photo of you and Jake at the top of the stairs while you were kissing, and I almost missed that scene because of his best friend. I never would’ve thought I’d see you in a situation like this!” she said, laughing excitedly as she waved her phone back and forth. You tried to lunge forward to snatch the phone from her, but with little success since Allie pulled it back, laughing.

“Come on, stop looking at that phot, it’s embarrassing, please!” you whispered, glancing sideways to make sure no customers heard you. But Allie couldn’t stop staring at the picture, and her tone suddenly turned more serious and dreamy as she looked at you and Jake: “But seriously… you and Jake look so good in that photo. In a way I never would’ve imagined: you, the down-to-earth girl who works double shifts to pay for university and build a future in music, kissing the campus golden boy, the soccer team captain with his path already paved to some famous club… It’s a perfect match. Admit it, just a few months ago, you never would’ve imagined ending up in a situation like this!” she concluded with a mischievous smile. But you scolded her immediately, slamming the coffee tamper on the counter and glaring at her: “Stop it right now, Allie! There’s no match, no romantic movie. It was just… a setup to get Soobin’s attention, and Jake just wanted to help. It’s a 50% help for both of us,” you said, trying to sound convincing. Yet your eyes couldn’t pull away from that photo on the screen.

Looking at it, you almost didn’t recognize yourself: pressed against his chest, your hands gripping his shirt, and the way Jake was looking at you as he held your waist radiated an energy that could give butterflies to even someone like Allie, who’d been in a relationship forever. Even though the photo wasn’t high quality, you could still see both you and Jake smiling at each other. And just the memory of his lips against yours made your stomach clench.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by someone arriving at the counter. You heard a familiar voice, and when you looked up, you found Soobin standing there with his usual shy smile. That morning, he was in full “nerd mode”: he was wearing an oversized sweater that made him look even softer, round glasses with thin black frames, and his dark hair was slightly messy on his forehead. But it was strange—until that moment, you would’ve gone crazy at the sight of him. Now, you were happy, but you couldn’t understand why your mind kept drifting to Jake…

“Hey, Y/n…” he said in his usual shy way, and you gave him a timid smile. Soobin glanced quickly at Allie’s phone in her hand and then back at you. “Mmm… did you see the photo of you and Jake kissing too?” The question came out of his mouth with a slightly casual, almost detached tone, but his eyes were hungry for your reaction. You nodded, feeling the blood rush straight to your cheeks, and immediately tried to downplay it by waving your hands in the air:  “Yes, I saw it… but I swear, Soobin, it’s nothing serious! Jake is just a show-off. We were just… joking. There was so much confusion at the party, and…” You tried to say something, as if you owed him an explanation, but he stopped you by raising a hand: “The other night, I was really shocked when I saw you dressed like that and I noticed right away how your cheeks turned red when you saw me next to you,” he said, looking down at you from his nearly two meters of height—Soobin was truly imposing, unlike Jake, who, despite being muscular, was only a couple of centimeters taller than you.

“Jake took you away, and… well, we all know him, he’s a show-off. But I bet that kiss was just for show, right?” And then, leaving you completely shocked, he leaned a little further forward, lowering his voice: “Would you like to go out for a serious coffee with me this afternoon? Just you and me, I promise.” He took a sip of his drink, and you stood there, literally paralyzed with the milk jug in your hand. Was he seriously asking you out? You’d wanted this moment for months. You’d spent entire nights hoping Soobin would notice you. But now… Jake’s image kept tormenting your mind. And with startling clarity, you remembered the warmth of his full lips, how he’d gently held you close, afraid you might pull away, and especially that damn moan that had escaped him when you’d bitten his lip and what scared you the most was the realization that, next to Jake, your body hadn’t felt the slightest bit of anxiety.

With Soobin, however, you felt like you were under examination, and your instinct told you to take it slow with him, not to rush. But a part of you wanted to seize the moment, to not waste this opportunity—you’d already wasted so many because of what happened to you as a teenager. Yet, accepting his invitation for that afternoon would mean canceling your study session with Jake. So you took a deep breath and, forcing a sweet smile, said:

“Soobin, I’d really like to… but as you know, I’m tutoring Jake. He has his Contemporary History test on Friday, and we absolutely need to meet at his place this afternoon to review the last chapters. But… this weekend, yes, we could go out for breakfast together, if you’d like.”

At your positive response, Soobin smiled sweetly, his dimples on full display. “The weekend works perfectly. Oh, by the way… I don’t know if you noticed, but I already followed you on Instagram a little while ago. I’ll message you after class so we can figure out the details.” He said, and you nodded, your heart racing as you watched him turn and leave the café with his easy, relaxed gait.

Allie, who had been silently pretending to clean a nearby table the whole time, rushed over as soon as Soobin was out of earshot. She looked you straight in the eyes, her usual playful demeanor gone, and said in a low voice:

“Y/n… if you really wanted to go out with him this afternoon, Jake can wait. Or he can study for the test on his own. But please, be honest with yourself—because you just turned down a date with the guy of your dreams to lock yourself in a house with a jock who, until recently, you claimed to detest, and who practically kissed you passionately in front of half the university. Are you sure Soobin is still the only one on your mind?”

She asked, watching you carefully and at those words, you honestly didn’t know what to say.

As you walked briskly toward Jake’s house, Allie’s words still echoed in your head. You tried to shake them off, Jake was just a… a "friend"? You didn’t even know how to define him, to be honest. You were his tutor, end of story. What happened at the Halloween party was just a staged scene to get Soobin’s attention and land a date and it had worked. That was all… right?

When you stood in front of the massive door of the seven hybrids’ villa, you typed in the code Jake had kindly given you a few days earlier so you wouldn’t have to wait in the cold. But out of politeness, you knocked anyway. No one answered, so you pushed the door open. The living room and large kitchen were completely empty. It was really strange, the place looked almost eerie compared to the chaos of the last time you’d been there, for the Halloween party. So you walked in and, reaching the bottom of the stairs, called out: “Jake! I’m here!”

But there was no answer. You assumed he was in his room, as usual when he wanted to avoid chores. So you climbed the wooden steps one by one, looking around. All the doors on the landing were closed except one. When you reached Jake’s door and saw it was half-open, you knocked lightly with your knuckles on the wood and said: “Sorry I’m late, Jake, but we really need to review three chapters of Contemporary History on the post-war period and the peace treaties…”

But the words died in your throat.

Jake was there but he wasn’t alone. He was leaning back against his messy desk, and between his legs stood a girl you recognized all too well: one of the most popular and beautiful girls on campus. She had her nails buried in Jake’s dark hair, kissing him passionately, her hips moving against his. And yet, you noticed immediately that Jake wasn’t touching her at all. His hands were lazily resting on the desk, as if he didn’t even have a girl kissing him in front of him. His ears were slightly lowered, and his tail, beneath his pants, was completely still—no twitch, no movement. It was strange because with you, Jake was always the opposite. The way they were kissing seemed almost mechanical, especially on Jake’s part… as if he were bored. There was none of that desperation to touch you like at Halloween, none of that devastating heat, none of that deep, rough moan he’d reserved for you at the top of the stairs just a few days earlier.

And yet, despite his obvious detachment, the sight of Jake wrapped around another girl hurt, badly. You suddenly felt stupid, like a total fool. But stupid for what? Jake wasn’t your type at all… and yet, watching him share his personal space and his lips with someone else filled you with a sharp, cutting disappointment that quickly turned into burning anger toward him.

In the shock of that vision, you abruptly took a step back to leave, but the sudden movement made your heavy backpack bump against the wooden doorframe. At such close range, Jake’s wolf hearing instantly picked up the noise but more than that, he caught your scent. He pulled away from the girl almost immediately, as if pushing her off, and his eyes widened when they landed on you in the doorway. His nose wrinkled instantly because he’d just caught your scent in the air—but your usual sweet strawberry fragrance was gone. It had turned sour, sharp, and not good—it reminded him of the early days when you couldn’t stand him being near you at all.

“Y/n! Wait!” Jake exclaimed, taking a decisive step toward you but you had no intention of staying there to be humiliated. You spun around on your heel, your cheeks literally burning with embarrassment.

Jake gently grabbed your wrist in an attempt to stop your rush down the stairs: “Hey! Stop for a second!” he exclaimed, looking at you but you spun around abruptly, yanking your wrist free from his grip especially from his touch and said:

“Let go of me, Jake! Don’t touch me! I knew you were irresponsible, but I didn’t think you’d go this far! We have a test in three days, and I rearranged all my plans today just to come here and help you pass the exam and what do you do? Not even train—which would make more sense—but kiss one of your many girls who throw themselves at you with a snap of their fingers?!” You glared at him, and Jake looked at you carefully, almost caught off guard by the vehemence of your words. His wolf ears lowered slightly, betraying a hint of regret or perhaps confusion about what was happening. His nose wrinkled imperceptibly as he sniffed the air around you, sensing how your scent was becoming sharper, more acidic as if every fiber of your body was screaming how much you disliked the situation. It reminded him of the scent you gave off when you couldn’t stand being near him.

Trying to take a step toward you to calm you down, Jake said in a low voice: “Y/n, we weren’t doing anything serious. She just came to return a hoodie to me and...”

But you didn’t care at all about his justifications. You cut him off abruptly with a wave of your hands: “I don’t care what you were doing! It just bothers me that I wasted my time with a guy who doesn’t have his head on straight, who only thinks about having fun and showing off! You know what? Figure it out yourself. I’ll send you the notes online from now on because I have no intention of setting foot in this house again to waste time with you!”

At those words, a spark flashed in his eyes—no way was he going to lose you. He… he wanted to be with you. Seeing you every day kept him mentally stable, and he always found an excuse to see you or be near you. So Jake took a decisive step closer to you because he didn’t rationally understand what was going through your mind at that moment but his animal nature—his primal wolf instinct—spoke to him, suggesting a fucking precise idea:

Could it be… that she’s jealous of seeing you with someone else?

In that moment of high tension, his animal side took over completely without him realizing it. His usual cocky smirk reappeared on his face, and tilting his head slightly toward you, he said in a rough, teasing tone: “Are you mad because I’m not studying, sweetheart… or because the lips on my mouth weren’t yours? Do you miss me that much already after the other night?”

At those words, your eyes widened. Did he seriously just say that out loud? You were completely shocked and wounded in your pride by what he’d just dared to say. Feeling your cheeks burn even redder, you forced yourself to laugh and, lifting your chin, looked him straight in the eyes with a shamelessly defiant air: “You’re completely crazy! I don’t care at all who you kiss, Jake Sim! In fact, I’m even happy you’re so busy with your ‘friends’ that way, you won’t interfere in my life this weekend when I go out with Soobin!” You said with a small smirk.

At the sound of Soobin’s name, Jake’s earlier smirk vanished completely. His ears snapped backward, almost stiffening, and his jaw tightened slightly at seeing you so bold with him. In a low voice, he said: “What did you say?”

You looked at him before leaving and said: “You heard me. He asked me out today at the bar, but I told him no to come here and study with you because I’m a responsible girl and stupid me, but we’ll see each other this weekend. So try to do well on the history test because I finally got what I wanted.”

With that, you pushed him slightly, taking advantage of his moment of shock, opened the villa’s door, and walked out, slamming it behind you. You left the university’s golden boy alone in the hallway, furious and jealous for the first time in his life.

After you left Jake, leaving your notes in plain sight on the table, the atmosphere inside that house had become literally suffocating—especially for Jake. When the other six members of the pack returned, they found Jake sulking, half-stretched out on the large, dark leather sofa in the living room. The younger ones almost laughed at the sight, but the older ones immediately understood that something had happened. Every second, Jake ran his fingers through his thick hair, ruffling it furiously, or hurled a stress ball against the wall in front of him, catching it mid-air with his reflexes before throwing it again.

Jay and Sunghoon exchanged an exasperated glance. Jay, the black cat hybrid, ran a hand over his neck, annoyed by the negative energy dominating the room.

“Can someone tell me what happened with your tutor? Why isn’t she here in a chair, making you memorize dates or the names of generals? God, this house stinks so much of your bad pheromones. There’s a sour, wet-dog smell coming from you that I haven’t smelled in I don’t know how long…” said the cat hybrid, wrinkling his nose. Sunghoon did the same, but Jake, at the mere word "tutor," jolted upright on the couch, hurling the ball onto the floor with such force that it bounced off the ceiling. He almost growled, nervously running his hands through his hair:

“Nothing! Nothing happened! She’s just a stubborn little girl who says she doesn’t want to come here anymore because… and she’s going out with that damn Soobin this weekend.”

Sunghoon coughed in a half-laugh, unable to hold it back, and a cynical, amused grin appeared on his lips. “Oh, so Choi is seriously interested in Y/n… who would’ve thought! He’s been practically chasing her for weeks. And well, on the other hand, you were busy getting kissed by one of your groupies five minutes before Y/n arrived, right? You don’t care if Y/n goes out with another guy...especially Soobin, do you? You know, we saw her on the path as she was leaving, and human girls don’t work like hybrids, who dream of finding their mate 90% of the time just to be knotted and not claimed. Human girls don’t have a pack instinct. They don’t accept sharing, and above all, you can’t have your foot in two shoes with them.”

Jake rolled his eyes because everyone had warned him not to play around, especially with human girls. He covered his face with his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know what bothers me more...that she doesn’t want to come here anymore to study with me… or that she’s going out with another guy. She’s not… she’s not my type at all, you know! She’s a simple, down-to-earth girl—all about home, work, and musical scores and what pisses me off the most is that she’s almost as much of a know-it-all as I am. But damn, if I even think for a second about her laughing, walking, or looking at Soobin with those sweet eyes… my wolf side goes completely blind with rage, and I don’t understand why. Me? Jake Sim only cares about getting signed by a national team and living for soccer, not romantic drama. But if I imagine her with another guy, I feel like something’s being ripped away from me something that, technically, isn’t even mine… I just want to go out there and make everyone understand that she’s mine.”

At those words, Jake’s eyes widened—because… because he shouldn’t be thinking those things. Those were things people said when they’d found or were with their mate, not with a simple girl who gave them tutoring. Jay and Sunghoon stopped laughing, and their expressions turned serious, almost severe, as they watched their roommate crumble under the weight of a feeling he refused to admit but had just confessed a few seconds earlier. They exchanged another glance and, almost in unison, took a step forward toward their best friend, placing their hands on Jake’s shoulders.

“We told you to be careful with her, Jake,” Sunghoon said, with a rare note of seriousness in his voice. “But above all, we warned you right away that she was the one… the one who could calm the beast inside you without you having to pretend to be the king of the campus.”

Jay nodded in agreement, gently stroking the lower part of Jake’s ears this time: “Your tutor isn’t playing hard to get, Jake. She saw what you always do: using people out of boredom, for sport, to confirm to yourself that you can have anyone. But this time, you chose the wrong person. Y/n isn’t one of your fans who hang on your every word and accept your leftovers. If your wolf feels sick and is howling inside your head, it’s because he knows perfectly well that you’ve ruined the only good, real thing you’ve encountered in years. The few times I’ve seen you together, she’s the only person who looks at you for who you are—not for the captain’s armband, your beauty, or your status.”

“So get your ass off that couch,” Sunghoon concluded. “Apologize to her and please, don’t let her get away, because the true ‘mate’ only comes once in your life… don’t make the mistake so many others do of not letting go.”

Jake had one clear mission: he never wanted to see you angry with him again, even if it meant swallowing his pride. So, between one soccer training session and another, he took his studies deadly seriously.

He locked himself in his room and spent hours poring over the pages of Contemporary History you’d worked on together. He started bombarding your phone: sending you photos of his summary diagrams late at night, voice messages over five minutes long (which were practically illegal in your book) answering the open-ended questions you’d left him as homework before your fight. And at the end of every voice message, he’d always try to make it personal, asking in a low voice: “Hey… how are you? What did you do after class today? Do you want to meet up before the test on Friday afternoon?”

But you were categorical: you never replied to those personal questions, leaving him brutally on read. And for the study messages, you responded with an icy coldness that wasn’t in your nature but deep down, you knew you were jealous of him, so you tried not to think about him, not to give in. You’d look at the photos or listen to the voice messages, and you’d respond simply by leaving a reaction: a thumbs-up 👍 if the answer was correct, or a thumbs-down 👎 if he’d messed up the dates. No written messages. No “Okay,” no “Good job, you got six out of ten right.” Just absolute silence from you. And this was literally driving Jake crazy because no one in his entire life as an alpha hybrid and soccer captain had ever treated him like he was invisible.

Since the messages weren’t working, he switched to a more direct—and obviously more visible—strategy with you. Every single morning, he’d show up at the faculty café and patiently wait in line among dozens of students, just to reach your counter. When it was finally his turn, he’d lean heavily on the counter with his elbows, stretching forward to watch you as you prepared the coffees. He didn’t look like a loser at all, in fact, with that team jacket draped over his broad shoulders, his messy hair, and his magnetic amber gaze following your every move, he looked like he was searching for even the smallest crumb of your attention. It was the most shameless approach you’d ever seen from a guy, and sometimes, while you worked, a small smile would tug at your lips seeing him like that.

As you stirred the coffees or steamed the milk, he wouldn’t stop teasing you for a second: tilting his head, barely moving the tips of his ears to catch your eyes, and whispering with a crooked smile: “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you know WhatsApp was created as a messaging app, not an app for one-word replies or simple 👍👎? I preferred it when you actually spoke to me when I got distracted… are you sure you don’t want to review together tonight?”

But you had become almost mute with him. You didn’t give in even a millimeter to his antics. You kept your gaze fixed on the coffee machine and, slamming his receipt on the counter with a sharp tap, you responded every day with the same detached chant: “That’s four dollars and fifty cents for the oat milk cappuccino, Sim. Move it, there’s a line behind you.”You’d point with one finger at the long line behind him, and Jake would almost always pout. The scene was so ridiculous that, a few tables away, his pack never missed an opportunity to enjoy the show—especially the younger members, like Sunoo, who would burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hands, absolutely loving the drama between you and his hyung.

Next to him, Ni-ki would shoot Jake an amused glance and comment in the group chat that you’d refused to speak to Jake again. Even Jungwon, the cat hybrid who was usually the calmest, would chuckle under his whiskers, shaking his head—though it was nice to see Jake, for the first time, thinking hard and working seriously on something that wasn’t soccer.

The door in front of Jake was still closed, but his ears picked up the sound of the history professor arranging the tests on the desks inside. There were still five minutes until the exam started.

This was shaping up to be the most important weekend of his entire academic year: not only was there the Contemporary History exam weighing on his mind, but on Sunday, he had a crucial league match. In the stands, scouts from some of the country’s most famous soccer teams would be watching, and Jake was hoping with everything in him to be chosen by one of them—to finally take off toward a professional career. Yet, despite the pressure of the upcoming match, the thing that had made him relax his shoulders and feel genuinely better that morning was your message.

After endless days of receiving nothing but cold thumbs-up or thumbs-down, your message had lit up his phone screen as soon as he woke up, his eyes still heavy with sleep:

“Hi. Don’t mix up the peace treaties from the various international assemblies, especially between World War II and the Cold War (P.S. I know there will be at least 2 questions on this topic). Good luck, Jake. Show them what you’re worth. :)”

At the sight of it, a smile, his first in a long time, crept onto his lips. He had reread that message all morning, and he was still staring at it now, just outside the classroom.

His inner wolf, which had been curled up, dull and listless for days in a corner of his mind, suddenly woke up at the news. His tail began wagging incessantly all day, and his animal instinct spoke clearly or perhaps it seriously hoped he still had a chance with you and said:

“If she didn’t care about you at all, she wouldn’t have written… especially today, when she knows how important this day is for your future. There’s still hope, Sim Jaeyun. Embrace it.”

That’s exactly why, gripping his phone between his fingers, Jake decided not to reply to you right away. For once, he wanted to avoid making a wrong move. He didn’t want to ruin that tiny bit of closeness with one of his usual bold responses. He wanted actions to speak for him.

So when the door to the lecture hall finally swung open and the students began pouring in, Jake took a seat at one of the central desks. And as soon as the Contemporary History test paper was placed in front of him, with a determination his classmates had never seen on his face before, he began answering all the questions. He didn’t want to disappoint you. He couldn’t allow himself to waste all the hours you’d spent writing him summaries, explaining every single chapter in detail even when you were angry with him. Or the fact that, despite everything, you’d taken a minute to wish him good luck.

So he put his head down and focused for the full two hours of the test, isolating himself from the rest of the world and concentrating on the answers he had to give.

After two grueling hours of the exam, Jake could literally not wait to find out his score. He was hoping with all his heart that the electronic system or the professors would give him the result immediately—he wanted to know if all that crazy studying you and he had done together had paid off. But the professor had decided to grade the tests on the spot, and all the students, Jake included, were stuck in their seats. He rested his face against his arms, trying to calm himself and imagine how you would react if he’d passed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to his wolf, the professor stood up from the desk with a stack of papers in her hands and began handing them out. When she reached Jake’s desk, she stopped and looked at him with a sincere and slightly surprised smile: “I don’t know how Y/n managed to make you ‘like’ Contemporary History, Sim, but I’m truly happy and proud of you.”

The professor handed him his test, and Jake lowered his eyes. There, written at the top in bright green marker, was a 75/100, accompanied by a small smiling face. He was literally shocked—his tail began wagging, and his pheromones started filling the air with his scent. He had never gotten a grade this high in that subject before. Without wasting a second, he pulled out his phone, took a photo of the test, and sent it immediately to the WhatsApp group he had with the other six members of the villa. They all praised him, but all he wanted was to hear you or see you. So as he strode out of the classroom, he opened your private chat and was about to attach the photo of his 75 to brag to you too—until he froze halfway down the hallway.

His wolf senses suddenly kicked in, and he caught an unmistakable trail of your sweet, unmistakable strawberry and cotton candy scent in the air—the one he had loved discovering so much. Jake’s head snapped around twice until his eyes locked onto you. There you were, just a few meters away, leaning against the hallway wall as you waited for him outside the classroom. At the sight of you, his hybrid nature rejoiced: his gray ears perked up happily on his head, and his tail, beneath his tracksuit pants, began moving in a frantic, enthusiastic rhythm, thrilled that you were there for him—even though he hadn’t asked you to be.

You gave him a small, shy smile, and Jake closed the distance between you in a flash, almost running until you felt his strong, large arms wrap tightly around your waist. Before you could even realize what was happening, Jake lifted you off the ground, nearly taking you into his arms mid-air in the middle of the hallway.

“J-Jake! What are you doing?! Put me down, are you crazy?!” you stammered, your heart in your throat, as you instinctively clung to his broad back to avoid falling. But Jake ignored your protests and buried his head right near the hollow of your neck, breathing in your scent deeply. He whispered with a voice rough with emotion and adrenaline: “Y/n… I got a 75. I did it… thanks to you.”

Your smile widened involuntarily at hearing him so happy, and you gently caressed the back of his neck. “I knew you’d do great things, Jake. Remember, you told me that by the end of the course, you’d get a 100 if you applied yourself! But now put me back down, seriously!”

Jake chuckled, only then realizing that all the students left in the hallway were staring at you. With extreme slowness, he let you slide back down but when your feet touched the ground, he didn’t pull away instead, his face stayed just a few centimeters from yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. You swallowed, feeling your cheeks turn red, and he loved seeing you so close to him again. He studied you with an intense gaze, lowering his eyes to your lips for a second before meeting your eyes again.

“And now… where’s my reward?” he asked in a provocative tone, watching you with a challenging look.

“Your reward is that the history box on the register finally has a green checkmark instead of a red one, and that maybe you won’t fail… that’s your reward, Sim,” you said, as if it were obvious.

Jake pouted cutely, shaking his head, and teased you by reaching out to give you a light tap on the tip of your nose: “Really, sweetheart? That’s it? You’re a ruthless tutor. I was hoping for something much more… this weekend… we haveto celebrate, Y/n. Tomorrow evening is one of the most important matches of my life....there will be scouts from national and global teams watching. Please come watch me play in the stands.” He said, almost pleading with his hands.

You immediately tried to shake your head and protest, crossing your arms: “Jake, no, I told you… I have plans this weekend… I mean, I have to meet Soobin for breakfast, and then I have to study for my exams. I can’t spend the evening in a pub…”

But he, being the skilled manipulator he was when he wanted something from you, took half a step closer, reducing the space between you even more. You felt his pheromones teasing your body, and he said: “Breakfast is Sunday morning. My match is tomorrow evening. You have to come to the stands to cheer me on, Y/n. You sent me that message this morning, tomorrow, you need to be there in person. You helped me get through the hardest part of the week… you don’t want to leave me alone right at the finish line, do you? I’m only asking you to come tomorrow, okay?”

Jake Sim was seriously a thorn in your side, and he knew exactly how to get a “yes” out of someone at any cost. You rolled your eyes, feigning fake exasperation, and started nervously fiddling with your backpack strap to avoid looking at him. “Okay, fine… I’ll come to the match with Allie,” you conceded in the end, hinting at a small smile. But then your tone turned more serious and low. “But… you know I don’t drink alcohol, Jake. So there won’t be much for me to do at the pub, and I want to leave at a decent time so I can be awake and on time Sunday morning.”

Jake immediately noticed that sudden shift in your mood. His wolf instinct picked up on a different nuance in your voice, and he desperately wanted to know what had happened to you in the past—what was the reason behind your total refusal of alcohol, or why you trusted people so little and disliked physical contact so much. But he knew he had to take it one step at a time.

He took a deep breath, looking at you with a rare seriousness, and said: “I know you’re still hesitant about me… and I’m sorry for the other day,” he said, almost mentally cursing himself for letting that third-year girl kiss him. “But we’ve known each other for a while now, and at the Halloween party, you trusted me. We worked as a team… so I thought that tomorrow evening, you could try drinking something with me and my friends. They might seem like a bunch of lunatics, but all six of them are curious to meet you, Y/n.”

You looked at him, stunned, your eyes wide, and opened your mouth to protest. But Jake immediately interrupted you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to reassure you. “I just want you to feel safe with me. When you’re with me, nothing bad will ever happen to you, I promise. If you’re afraid of drinking for some reason… well, you’ll tell me about it, when and if you want to. But tomorrow evening, I’ll stay right by your side, without drinking a single drop of alcohol, so I can stay 100% sober. You can have fun without touching a drink, obviously but I also want you to understand that you can trust me blindly and if you want to try drinking, you can do it in complete peace of mind, because after the party, I’ll pick you up, put you in my car, and take you home safe and sound, ready for your date with Soobin the next day,” Jake said, the last part reluctantly, running a hand through his thick hair and betraying a hint of jealousy at the innocent mention of your date. But he wanted, above all, to make you understand that he wasn’t selfish—he’d loved making people like him since his scout days, loved being known for who he truly was. But between his reputation as the golden boy of the soccer team and knowing he was a good-looking guy, many girls wanted him, and he had fun with it. Now, though, he wanted to see if things could work with you.

You stood still because you’d never heard a guy—let alone a fiery, popular hybrid like him—say something like that to you, or put himself completely at your disposal just to make you feel protected.

You lowered your gaze, feeling your cheeks burn, because deep down, you knew it was true: despite his flaws, his arrogance, and his distracted kisses with others, with Jake, you’d felt safe almost from the first day. And with him, the anxiety that usually clenched your stomach always disappeared. This had to make you realize that there was something more to Jake. When you looked up again, you said softly: “Thank you, Jake…”

He smiled at you and said: “I promise you, Y/n. If you want to drink something, I’ll always be by your side… and even if you decide not to drink, it’ll be the same for me—I’ll be there to protect you,” he thought the last part in his mind, while his inner wolf growled with pride at the idea of being your shield against the rest of the world. “Everything will be fine, I promise,” he said, reaching out his hand toward you, lifting his pinky finger in a solemn and slightly childish vow. You looked at him for a second, then smiled, and linked your pinky with his, squeezing it.

“Okay… I’ll come to your match… and maybe I’ll drink something at the party.”

At that contact and those words, Jake’s smile grew enormous. He pulled you close, even if only through that link between your pinkies, because he couldn’t wait for you to discover and get to know the real Jake.

The stands of the university soccer field were literally packed with people: some were leading the university chants, others were playing drums and trumpets, blasting the university anthem, and there were countless screams from fans cheering on all the players but one name echoed louder than all the others: number 5, Jake Sim.

You and Allie were sitting in a kind of covered VIP box, a reserved area where the other six hybrids from the villa were also watching the match. You were sitting right next to Jay, the black cat hybrid, who was watching the game with his arms crossed and his tail lazily swaying behind his back—he wasn’t part of any sports team, but for his best friends or hyungs, he would never miss a thing. To Allie’s left was Heeseung, the hamster hybrid, who, true to his sweet but incredibly magnetic nature, hadn’t stopped flirting with her for a second, making her giggle while she kept rolling her eyes.

At one point, Allie turned to you, her eyes wide, and pointed at the crowd below: “Wow, Y/n… I knew Jake was the ‘golden boy’ of the university and the soccer team, but look how many girls are wearing his jersey!” Looking down, you noticed that almost 90% of the female fans were wearing the number 5 jersey with Sim printed on the back. Out of pure spite, you had decided to leave the original jersey he’d given you the other day with a cocky smile in your closet but to avoid freezing from the evening wind, you had accepted wearing only his team scarf, which still smelled intensely of him. You weren’t entirely sure if it bothered you to see so many girls with his name on their backs. After all, you didn’t like Jake… right? And besides, the next morning, you had a special date at one of the best bakeries in the area with Soobin. So you didn’t understand that annoying itch that was creeping through your body at the sight of so many girls talking about Jake.

But those confused thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the booming voice of the university commentator over the speakers, who shouted: “…And there’s Anton with a perfect pass to Jake from the corner kick! Sim breaks free in the shooting zone… he jumps higher than everyone else and… HEADER! GOAL! IT’S A GOAL FOR OUR UNIVERSITY!”

A crazy roar spread across the entire field, and the stands almost trembled from the crowd of people screaming, jumping, and recording videos. Caught up in the adrenaline of the moment, both Jay and Heeseung leaned toward you. You felt Jay’s muscular arm wrap around your neck, pulling you into a brotherly hug while Heeseung did the same with Allie, jumping and cheering. You burst out laughing, infected by that insane energy you never thought you’d enjoy, exchanging an amused glance with Allie as you saw her lean into Heeseung.

Jay, noticing your laughter, looked down at you and gave you a light, teasing nudge with his elbow. “Look at you… You didn’t want to wear his jersey to play it cool, but you’re clutching his scarf around your neck, sniffing it every two seconds like you miss him. And you can’t stop rolling your eyes when some girl comments on Jake, yet you can’t take your eyes off him during any of his plays! I bet if Jake knew you were smelling his scent while he scores, he’d jump around like a puppy!” He said, observing you. You blushed instantly and retorted, giving him a playful shove to his chest: “Stop it, Jay! I’m only wearing it because it’s freezing up here, not because of… I only smell it because… because Jake has a nice scent.” Jay nodded, shaking his head with a smirk.

At that moment, your eyes returned to the field. Jake was running like crazy on the green pitch, but instead of heading toward the ultras’ curve, he ran straight under the VIP box where you were sitting. He slowed his pace, making a slight theatrical bow with his arms open to the crowd. And as soon as his eyes found you in the crowd, he winked at you and gave you a cocky smile. You felt your cheeks burn completely, and Allie immediately brought her hands to her chest, striking a totally dramatic pose like a true actress: “Ohh! Jake Sim winked at me! I’m about to faint!” Heeseung immediately interjected, leaning toward her ear with a half-smile: “I don’t think so, doll… I don’t think that wink was meant for you…” Allie, however, let out a small huff and said, “Oh, come on, let me dream!” before giving you a knowing nudge.

You watched Jake as he turned to run back and let himself be swallowed by the embraces of his teammates. But when you tried to turn away to hide your embarrassment, you realized that the atmosphere in the box had suddenly changed because all six hybrids left there were staring at you.

In their gazes, there wasn’t just happiness for the goal. Their eyes (feline, canine, or wild) shone with an intensity and a protective, almost possessive warmth in the way they looked at you. Because in a hybrid culture, the bond forming between you and Jake was terrifyingly similar to an imprinting, the sacred recognition of their “female. and in the pack, you were the first female even if you hadn’t yet been knotted or bitten by Jake.

The pub where the victory party was being held was literally packed with students who had been in the stands, all dancing and drinking. The space on the small sofa in the pub was so limited that you were half-stuck to Jake, his shoulder pressed against yours. You were leaning over, scrolling through the drink menu, while Jake was telling you which one he thought you’d like best but in reality, your eyes weren’t really looking at the names on the menu at all—they were completely captivated by him.

You observed his backward baseball cap, from which a few strands of dark hair escaped, falling rebelliously across his forehead. His cheeks were still slightly flushed from the physical exertion of the game, but also from the heat of the room. Jake was really too handsome—a lethal mix of hybrid charm with his large hands and ears that wouldn’t stop moving, but also a sweetness in the small dimples on his face or his tired eyes… not to mention his full lips, which he bit every now and then. You realized it was a tic—partly a nervous reflex, but also something personal, slightly explicit, directed at you.

Your thoughts dissolved instantly when you felt his warm voice against your ear, so close it sent shivers down your spine: “So, sweetheart? What are you getting?” he asked, watching your every reaction closely. Snapping out of your trance and having barely read anything, you pointed to the first combination that caught your eye: a cocktail with grapes, lime, currants, and a vodka base.

Jake added your drink to the order and then ordered a simple Coca-Cola for himself. Looking at him, you realized he was dead serious—he wouldn’t touch a drop of alcohol all night, giving up toasting to his own victory just to keep his promise of protecting you.

When the drink arrived at the table, Jake picked up the glass, adjusted the straw, and gently turned it toward you. You leaned slightly forward to take your first sip, and he whispered: “Don’t drink too much at once, okay? Take small sips, or your body won’t handle the impact.”

You looked up at him as you drank, watching him from below. At the sight of your lips wrapped around the straw and your bright eyes locked on his, every rational thought in Jake’s head vanished. His alpha hybrid instinct short-circuited at the realization of just how damn beautiful you were. His senses picked up the warmth spreading across your skin, and your strawberry scent, mixing with the fruity smell of the drink, created an intoxicating, addictive blend for a hybrid with such a developed alpha side as his.

After sliding that first drop of alcohol into your body for the first time in years, you pulled away from the straw and said with a fake challenging tone: “I’m not a child, Jake!”

He sighed, shaking his head with a crooked smile, and said: “I know you’re not a child… but you told me you’ve barely ever drunk in your life, and I just want this fear of alcohol to fade, even thanks to me and I want you to have a great night. So yes, I’ll keep an eye on you, Y/n.”

At those words, you bit your lip, playing with the straw, and leaned even closer to him. Slowly reaching out, you gently caressed the base of his wolf ears, feeling them soft and warm under your fingers knowing it would make him more sensitive. “I like this drink… but maybe there isn’t that much alcohol in it,” you whispered close to his face.

Jake sniffed your glass, his ears twitching pleasantly under your touch, and nodded: “Good. I certainly wouldn’t have started you off with aged gin or century-old grappa!” he said, smiling at you. You laughed and, leaning even closer to his cheek, whispered against his lips: “You’re such a good boy, Jake…”

Jake’s inner wolf couldn’t tolerate being called a "good boy" when every single fiber of his body was screaming the opposite. His breath suddenly became heavier, and he fixed his gaze directly into your eyes. For perhaps the first time, driven by something even you didn’t think you had, you were teasing him, rendering him more inert in his hybrid nature than his human one.

“Stop saying things like that, sweetheart… you have no idea what it does to a hybrid’s mind,” he hissed, his mouth a millimeter from your ear. You pouted slightly, openly challenging his gaze, and said with a tone dripping with fake innocence that shattered his self-control: “Why not, Sim? Are you afraid your bad-boy reputation might get tarnished by me? What would happen if I went around saying you’re not actually a show-off? That you love taking care of people, and that in your pack and on your team, you act more like a protective father figure rather than just an older brother?”

At that declaration, Jake realized you knew him better than some people he’d known for years. It was true—you saw through him, past the arrogant athlete mask he’d stitched onto himself. He was a good guy, always had been with the people he loved but in that precise moment, with you so terrifyingly close on the pub’s small sofa, the warmth of the vodka beginning to melt your anxieties, and the scent of your skin shifting to reveal a growing excitement that his predator nature picked up with millimeter precision, Jake was having thoughts far too obscene to be defined as a "good boy."

His inner wolf was wide awake. It wanted to spin you around and kiss you in front of the entire pub. It wanted to push your head back and drag his nose along your neck, lingering on the scent gland—the most sacred area for hybrids like him, where a female’s scent was most concentrated. He wanted every last hybrid on this earth to smell his scent on your body.

But his hybrid mind went even further, imagining much darker, wilder fantasies—definitely not the kind a "good boy" would have. In his head, he pictured you straddling him, completely naked, your breasts bouncing with every movement, gasping as you clenched your fingers in his dark hair and bent his ears backward with pleasure. He wanted to see you trembling with pleasure beneath or above him as he thrust deep inside you, claiming you not as a human, but as an animal claiming his mate he had finally found and the most depraved image of all was seeing you swollen with his knot. He imagined pushing all the way inside you, swelling in your belly to lock himself inside your body, forcing you to stay bound to him while his pheromones marked you from within. At the same time, he wanted to hear you cry and moan his name like a sick prayer, trapped in his knot.

So no… Jake was not a good boy in that moment but until he officially went into heat—that time of year when hybrids completely lost their minds or until you became his female in every sense, he would force himself to be good. He would keep the beast that had been pulsing inside him for months whenever he was near you on a tight leash.

The overwhelming beats of Scream & Shout blared at full volume, literally shaking the walls of the pub. You were in the middle of the dance floor, the alcohol coursing through you giving you the confidence to sing and dance with Allie, arms raised, hips swaying in rhythm, a few sweat-dampened strands of hair sticking to your forehead and face as you laughed and hopped but every so often, your eyes instinctively snapped toward the small sofa where Jake had stayed seated next to Heeseung.

He hadn’t danced or drunk, staying true to his promise to be your shield. He kept his large hand tightly wrapped around your third drink of the night—a deep pink Cosmopolitan and he hadn’t taken his eyes off you for even a second. That gaze, both sweet and magnetic, had sent shivers through you all evening. When the song ended, you pushed your way through the crowded, overheated bodies, and when you finally reached the table, you practically collapsed onto the sofa next to them, smiling radiantly especially at Jake.

You swept your hair behind your back with a fluid neck movement, and Jake couldn’t stop watching you. You leaned forward to grab the straw of your Cosmopolitan, and as the cool, alcoholic liquid slid down your throat, you gave him a sweet but incredibly sly smile. “It’s… it’s so good,” you slurred slightly, your cheeks flushed. “I… I definitely want another one!” you said, giggling.

Heeseung burst out laughing, turning to Jake and slapping him on the shoulder: “Wow, Sim… I think tonight you’ve awakened a completely new personality in Y/n! This party is going to cost you a lot if she keeps this up.”

Jake shook his head with a half-protective smile curving his lips. He leaned toward you and whispered in your ear: “You still have to finish this one, sweetheart. But the answer is no...no fourth drink. It’s already a lot that I let you get to this Cosmopolitan.”

You immediately pouted, disappointed by his refusal. Driven by a sudden, bold audacity you’d never have had while sober, you stretched toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leaned forward, pressing your face right where his neck met his shoulder—exactly above his wolf scent gland.

At that contact, Jake froze instantly, stiffening as if he’d been hit by an electric shock. His breath caught because, without realizing it, by moving there against him and breathing in his skin, you were literally marking him with your strawberry and vodka scent. For a few seconds, your pheromones—less sharp because you were human—mixed with his, and for his wolf, that gesture was both ecstasy and exquisite torture.

“Please, Jake…?” you whispered against his neck. “You know… yeah, well, I’m really having so much fun tonight!” You raised your hands in the air to emphasize, giggling again. “And besides, you were… you were so good at soccer tonight. You’re a champion, so we have to celebrate big, right?”

Jay, who was sitting on the sofa across from you, watched the whole scene and put a hand on his face, shaking his head though with an amused smirk. “Jake, my friend, listen to me: maybe you should take her home now,” the black cat said. “Otherwise, tomorrow morning, when she wakes up, she’ll be mortified by everything she’s doing and saying with just three drinks in her!”

You turned toward Jay, exaggerating your pout: “No, Jake, don’t listen to him! I… I want to dance more, and I want another drink! We could… we could share it, what do you say? One sip each… there are so many drinks I’ve never tried.”

But Jake, struggling to regain control of his instincts after that close contact on his neck, slid his large hand down your back, steadying you, and looked you straight in the eyes. With a low, incredibly gentle tone, he said: “Y/n… earlier, you said I was a good boy, right?”

You looked at him for a few seconds, enchanted by his lips, and slowly nodded, almost hypnotized.

“Exactly,” he continued, gently rubbing your back. “Good boys always take their girls home safe and sound. It’s a promise I made you, and I’m not breaking it. So game over for tonight.” He said, standing up and gently pulling you up by your arm. “Put on your coat actually, take my team hoodie too. It’s freezing outside.”

As you weakly protested because you seriously wanted to go back to the dance floor and have fun, and most of all, you wanted his eyes glued to your body again, Jake helped you slip your arms into his enormous hoodie, which completely wrapped you in his scent

The notes of Into It filled the car, and you closed your eyes slightly, smiling. “I’d love to write a song like this… I love alternative R&B and synth-pop,” you said, leaning back against the seat. Jake smiled at the sight of you so relaxed in his car. He knew perfectly well that both you and he loved Chase Atlantic—they were one of the many things that connected you without needing too many words, something he’d discovered about you almost by accident.

“Well, who knows… maybe one day, at the Champions League final, you’ll be the one opening the ceremony with your own song, and I’ll be on the field with my team, walking down the tunnel,” he said, shooting you an amused glance but also offering encouragement—for both of you. He’d make a pact with the devil himself to become an elite soccer player, but at the same time, he wanted to see you fulfilled. At that statement, you almost shot upright, clapping your hands enthusiastically: “That would be amazing! Even if in three or four years, you’ll probably have even more girls wearing your jersey… You know, today at the stadium, almost all of them were wearing it, and I don’t blame them, because you’re…”

Jake furrowed his brows, not understanding where you were going with this, your cheeks still flushed from the alcohol. “I’m…?” he asked, turning the steering wheel. At the sight of his veined hands gripping it, you bit your lip slightly and giggled, shifting in your seat to trace a finger over his hand resting on the gear shift. With your cheeks incredibly red, you whispered: “You’re really gorgeous, Jake. But not in a… ‘sexual’ way. In the way that you’re gorgeous inside and out, and it kills me that you’re ashamed to let people see that, hiding behind your bad-boy mask.”

Jake smiled softly. “Well… I think that’s the most genuine and deep compliment anyone’s given me in years,” he said sincerely, squeezing your fingers for a second before putting his hand back on the wheel.

You clapped your hands again, happy, and started humming softly along with the rhythm of the music until the car turned onto the driveway of the hybrids’ big villa. Jake took you straight to his room to avoid waking the others who hadn’t come to the party. With infinite patience, he took care of you, as he’d promised, helping you take off your coat and his oversized hoodie, turning away respectfully when you unclasped your bra to be more comfortable. He handed you a clean T-shirt and a pair of soft sweatpants to wear as pajamas. Like a good boy, he waited outside the bathroom while you washed your face. When you came out, he’d changed too.

Without his team jacket and the daytime clothes that often made him look over the top, in his pajamas, he looked like the classic boy next door—just an ordinary, accessible, and incredibly sweet guy. But this wasn’t the real Jake you’d come to know, was it? With that question in mind, you sat on the edge of the padded headboard. When Jake sat down right next to you, you turned your face abruptly and stared at his profile under the soft light of the bedside lamp. Your eyes traced the perfect lines of his profile—Jake had a beautiful nose, straight and large, typical of his hybrid nature. Without even realizing it, guided by the alcohol and a sudden urge to touch him, you reached out, placing a finger on the bridge of his nose and gently traced its entire outline down to the tip.

Jake turned his head, letting you do it as his wolf ears twitched slightly and a small smile formed on his lips. “Earlier… I also wanted to tell you that you’re beautiful, Jake,” you said softly as you met his eyes, pulling your hand back and looking up at the ceiling with a small huff. “But I already knew that… every girl tells you that every single day of the week.”

At that, Jake rolled his eyes, and his hybrid nature kicked in instantly—because this was the second time you’d subtly let him know you were completely jealous of all those stupid number 5 jerseys the other girls wore in the stands. A small grin took over his lips. “Damn… If I’d known that with three drinks in you, you’d be this chatty and admit things like that, I would’ve taken you to every party this season, sweetheart,” Jake said with an amused tone.

In the strange euphoria of the alcohol, you almost knelt on the soft mattress, leaning over him as he lay partially stretched out on the bed. Neither of you could stop looking at each other, unfiltered and guided only by instinct. You whispered in a low voice: “I… Can I kiss you, Jake?”

Jake’s eyes widened, completely caught off guard by such a direct request. Where the hell had the girl who hated being touched—especially the one who was mad at him—gone? His tail began wagging frantically on the mattress, betraying his wild excitement. When he saw you leaning in even closer, he made a huge effort of willpower, lifting a finger and gently pressing it against your mouth. “Sweetheart… I’d pay gold to do it again and kiss you right now,” he said in a low voice. “But damn, as you said earlier, right now I’m a ‘good boy,’ and I can’t take advantage of you like this. You have to ask me when you’re sober, Y/n. When you’re sober, you can ask me for anything… anything. And if tomorrow morning you still want me, you can ask me for whatever you want...but not now.”

You made an adorable pout, visibly disappointed by the refusal—you’d never expected it. “Anything?” you murmured. Jake nodded slowly. “Anything.”

“Well… fine, then tomorrow morning,” you whispered, your fingers already lazily playing with his big wolf ears again. You continued, your voice shy and your eyes heavy with sleepiness: “I… I want to ask you something tomorrow, but I won’t spoil it now.”

Jake gently caressed your flushed cheek with the back of his hand, tender and dying of curiosity about what you might ask him. “You should try to sleep now, Y/n. The bed is all yours,” he said. You nodded weakly, exhausted from the day, and curled up against him, nestling on his side and resting your head on the pillow.

Jake reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. Despite the wolf inside him screaming with the impulse to pull you close, trap you under his body for the whole night, he forced himself to respect your space. He didn’t yet have the official right to hold you or keep you close as if you were his mate. So he settled for stroking the back of your hand with warm, protective fingers all night, letting you rest. As he felt your breathing become steady, Jake stayed awake in the dark, his heart pounding in his chest. He was so curious and impatient to find out what you intended to ask him the next morning.

In his hybrid mind, he wondered if that mysterious question had to do with your fear of being touched by others.

Jake woke up stretching, his nose catching your faint scent of strawberries and something sweet—maybe a hint of cotton candy, or perhaps a sugary note from one of the drinks you’d had the night before. As he stretched to see if you were still asleep, he placed a hand on the part of the bed where you should have been. It was still warm, but you weren’t there. His heart started pounding, and he sat up almost abruptly, lazily running a hand through his hair. When he opened his eyes, at that exact moment, he saw you entering his room, still wearing his clothes, with two steaming cups of coffee in your hands.

You smiled at him shyly, and he thought you were 100% back to the girl he’d met months ago—not the teasing version of you from last night, the one who had asked if you could kiss him or who had looked at him with eyes full of excitement. When you handed him the cup, he responded with a rough, small “Thanks,” and you sat down in front of him. As you sipped your coffee, you couldn’t stop looking at him, and Jake chuckled into his cup.

“Stop looking at me like that, sweetheart. Spit it out…tell me what you wanted to say last night,” he said. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words got stuck on the tip of your tongue, and your cheeks turned even redder. “You… you, forget it, Jake. It’s… it’s nothing, what I wanted to ask you. Please, just forget it,” you said.

Jake tilted his head, observing you, and he could sense how embarrassed your body was. Teasing you, he said: “No, no, beautiful. Now you tell me what you wanted to ask me. And I certainly can’t forget you begging to kiss me!” You opened your mouth to retort, rolled your eyes, and said: “Why are you always so shameless? It’s not even 8 in the morning.” Jake chuckled and replied, still in a low voice—it was in his nature. You pouted and said: “I’ll ask you this thing, but first, don’t laugh, don’t tease me, and don’t make a scene, okay? Don’t yell or act like a clown, okay?”

Jake was seriously curious about what you wanted to ask him. He stretched out his pinky finger as a promise, and you squeezed it tightly. “Okay, well, I won’t beat around the bush… you… do you want to have sex with me?”

Jake thought he was still asleep. Was he dreaming? Hallucinating? But when he spat out half the coffee in his mouth onto his pajama shirt, the burning contact of the liquid on his warm skin made him cough violently. You jumped up and started patting his back for a full minute. Neither of you said a word. Jake placed his coffee on the nightstand, and as he turned to you, he looked at you carefully and said, perhaps too loudly: “ARE YOU KIDDING ME? ARE YOU STILL DRUNK, OR… DID YOU GET A HIGH FEVER IN THE FEW HOURS YOU SLEPT?”

You glared at him and almost growled his name. He lowered his voice, but his hand pressed against your forehead—you were cold… damn. You were serious.

“I’m not feverish, and I’m not drunk. Damn, I wasn’t even drunk last night, Jake, and… and I’m not joking. But if you don’t want to… I understand,” you said, fiddling with the strings of your pajama. Jake was extremely restless at that moment. He ran his hands through his hair countless times, and after what felt like endless minutes, he said: “I want a reason, Y/n. I want a damn reason for why you asked me something like that. Where’s the girl who hated my physical contact? Where’s the girl who was even afraid to sit next to me? Where’s that girl? That girl wouldn’t have asked me to kiss her in the first place, let alone to have sex with me. So excuse me, but I want the fucking truth. And then we’ll consider it. But I want… the truth about why you were and still are afraid of being touched or drinking a drink with a little alcohol in it.”

You sighed because only your family and Allie knew the truth about what had happened to you in your last year of high school. You closed your eyes for a moment and tried not to relive all the pain that night had caused you, or the rumors that had spread about you and your parents. Then you said: 

“Okay, I’ll tell you the truth. But please, this has to stay between you and me. It must not leave these four walls, and you… Please don’t say or do anything until I’ve finished telling you what happened.”

Jake nodded and shifted slightly closer, trying to calm you with his pheromones, but it didn’t work. When you started telling him that in your last year of high school, you were dating a guy from the soccer team, and you thought he was the right one for you, because he was the perfect guy: good grades, part of the best students’ club, and loved by your entire town because he did volunteer work. You had built a clear image of him in your mind. But everything changed one night… You and this guy had been together for a couple of months, and you went to a party together. He had drunk a little too much, and you weren’t completely sober either. Jake immediately understood what had happened to you: an assault.

His hybrid nature wanted to know who this guy was and make his life a living hell, especially when you started crying. He pulled you into his arms, and you buried your entire body against him. For endless minutes, he held you, gently stroking your hair and telling you it wasn’t your fault. But you didn’t stop crying and sobbing until you said: 

“I… I’m broken, Jake. Every time someone tries to make me feel good, I freeze and go into this cold trance. That’s why I asked you… because it’s hard to admit, but I trust you. And you’ve made me realize that so many times these past few months.”You said this with tears in your eyes, and Jake gently wiped them away with his thumbs, closing his eyes for a moment because he never would have imagined finding himself in a situation like this.

Jake wanted to make you happy, so he gently shifted you away from him, lifted your chin, and looked deeply into your eyes. “You’re not broken, Y/n. You went through something horrible that no one in this world should ever experience. So it’s normal for your body to be afraid, for you to go into a negative, protective mode. Therefore… my answer is yes.”

You gave him a 32-tooth smile and hugged him even tighter than before. “You… you’re serious? You’ll help me overcome this?” Jake nodded and wiped away another tear sliding down your face. He whispered in a low voice: “I never want to see tears of sadness in you again, Y/n. These… these tears should only be of joy or excitement. So yes, I’ll help you. But on my conditions.”

You nodded and said, “What conditions will we adopt?”. Jake tried to show his most human side, not the dark hybrid one, and said: “

First, you need to start taking the anti-hybrid pill. I don’t want to accidentally knot and impregnate you when we… You know, have sex. And I’ll take it too, as long as this is safe.” You tried to speak, but a finger pressed against your lips. “Let me talk, Y/n. Second, we will not have sex right away. Before sex, there must absolutely be awareness and enjoyment of what we’re going to do—especially for you, since you’ve told me you can’t let yourself go or be touched by others. So there will be a lot of foreplay, both for me to discover your body and for you to discover mine. Third, you must tell me at any moment if you want to stop or if you don’t like something. There will be no safe word—if you tell me NO, it will be a NO. If you tell me you like it, I’ll continue. If you want to stop, I will stop. But if you beg me to continue, I will continue… because I have two natures, Y/n—both the human one and the animal one. These are my conditions, Y/n. If you’re up for it, we’ll do this together. But if you don’t agree with even one of these things, my answer will be a NO.”

You swallowed and nodded, still sitting on top of him, continuing to play with the strings of his pajama. After a while, you said, “These conditions are perfect for me. It’s clear that deep down, you’re a good guy!” You said this, trying to ease the tension that had built up. He gently caressed your side and, looking at you, said: “I’d like to suggest another condition. From the moment this starts… I’d like for you not to be with other girls, and obviously, the same will go for me. I know it might seem trivial to you, but I’d feel more comfortable. And when… well, if it ends, we could… yes, go back to our lives,” you said, a little embarrassed.

But in Jake’s mind, it was already settled that this wouldn’t end because you were his mate, and he would make you understand that in any way possible. You would never be with another guy except him, and the same went for him.

Were you a bad person for forgetting about your date with Soobin while crying in Jake’s arms, finally sharing what had happened to you? Maybe… but at the same time, after years of silence, you had finally told someone the truth. And perhaps, thanks to Jake’s words, his touch, and the growing realization that you might have found someone you could trust completely, you didn’t feel like a bad person at all.

You did like Soobin—maybe just physically, not for his personality, since you’d never really had the chance to get to know him deeply. And now here you were, giving him a slightly shy smile behind the campus café counter, apologizing for the hundredth time to the guy in front of you. You were making coffees, inventing excuses that, deep down, weren’t entirely false—but you’d twisted them to suit your needs.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t show up at the bakery. I woke up super late because the night before, I went to the soccer team’s party with Jake and his friends, and Allie wouldn’t leave me alone—she kept making me dance with her. Before I knew it, it was maybe 2 AM by the time I got home. And in the morning, when I woke up, I texted you right away,” you said, winking. Soobin, 99% convinced by your story, took a sip of the new winter recipe you’d added to the seasonal menu and nodded. But you heard him mutter under his breath: “Of course you were at Jake’s party.”

At the sound of that name, something inside you twitched. And as if on cue, your phone lit up. You saw Jake’s name at the top of your notifications. It wasn’t news that Jake and Allie usually topped your chat list. You glanced at the message:

-> Jake⚽️🐺: Come over at 6 PM. There won’t be anyone around for a good two hours, so you can relax! I’m heading to practice. See you later, sweetheart :)

You froze at those words. The day had arrived. Obviously, as he’d said, it wasn’t about sex...it was about… physically getting to know each other. Oh my God, what had you gotten yourself into? But he was the only man—besides your dad—who didn’t make you anxious. You’d thought and reasoned so much before asking him that question, and now the moment was here.

Two fingers snapped in front of your face, and you jumped. Soobin’s voice cut through your thoughts: “Seems like you just read a notification about a good grade or something amazing happening. Did something good happen?” he asked, looking at you. You quickly lied: “Yes, the music production company Hybe wrote to me… they want a meeting. You know I write music, and they want to get to know me and the drafts I have on my computer—there are over 100 of them.”

Soobin’s eyes widened. “Damn, Y/n, that’s huge news! I know Jay works under that label too, you could ask him about it…” You cut him off before he could finish, raising your hands. “I… please, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to get contacts or opportunities because of someone else. I want them to want me, to like my lyrics and my melodies. So could you… not tell anyone? Only you, Allie, and my family know.”

Soobin’s ego swelled a little at the thought that you hadn’t even told Jake yet. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed,” he said, miming a zipper over his mouth with his fingers. You thanked him.

Soobin wasn’t a bad friend, he was funny, seemed like a calm guy, and had his head on straight. But to your defense… he didn’t make you feel anything anymore. Or maybe you’d never really felt anything for him at all.

Your low-rise jeans hugged your legs perfectly, and your slightly snug sweater accentuated the curves you usually disliked but had started to appreciate as part of who you were. You had light makeup on, but your signature strawberry gloss never missed your lips, and your hair was softly wavy. You felt pretty, but anxiety was eating you up inside as you entered Jake’s house using the code you knew. This time, Jake rushed down the stairs, and when he saw you dressed so nicely to spend time with him, a small smile formed on his face.

“Hey, damn, sweetheart—if I’d known you’d dress this well, I would’ve spent a little more time on my outfit too!” he said, licking his lips slightly. You rolled your eyes, but when he offered his hand, you looked at it carefully before taking it. As he led you to his room, you felt a wave of anxiety, and Jake knew it. “Y/n, I don’t want to force you to do anything, okay? Before you got here, I thought maybe you could get comfortable in my clothes, and then we could listen to some music, do some Legos—I’ve got a ton or we could watch a movie. Whatever helps you relax is fine with me. I know you’ve never been with a hybrid before, but I can smell your scent notes, and right now, I can sense that sour, persistent note in you. So you choose what you want to do,” he said, giving you a small smile.

You lowered your head at the sight of his clothes because you knew you’d never meet another guy like Jake again. At first, you had to admit, you didn’t particularly like him. But as you got to know him over the months, you realized Jake was the kind of guy every mom would want as a partner for their daughter. Yes, he often acted like a show-off, but deep down, he had a huge heart and you knew, deep down, that he was opening it up to you.

“It’s a great idea to wear your clothes. I don’t even know why I dressed up so nicely. We’re just staying in your room, so yeah, I’ll put on your stuff, and then maybe we could… listen to some music? And what do you think about dancing?”Jake’s eyes widened slightly, and he said in a low voice: “Dancing?” You nodded, slightly amused, because you wanted to see if he’d get embarrassed. But Jake understood your gaze immediately and said: “You said that before doing anything, we need to get to know our bodies. I don’t want a dance-off, Jake. I just want some closeness between our bodies with the music, and yes… you can touch me, and obviously, I can touch you too,” you said. Jake nodded—if that’s what you wanted, it was fine with him.

When you came out of his bathroom, you were wearing one of Jake’s soccer jerseys, of course, with his number and last nam —and a simple pair of pajama pants. At that sight, something inside Jake clicked. He’d been disappointed on game day when he hadn’t seen you in his jersey, but now he thought it was a thousand times better to see you in his room, wearing his jersey, with only his eyes on you. In his hybrid nature, it was a beautiful victory.

He knew he was a little possessive by nature, but seeing you in his jersey, in his clothes, with his scent—the beast inside him rejoiced fiercely. He couldn’t wait to see you without them, at his mercy. But he had to push those thoughts away immediately. After what you’d confided in him, he wanted to give you all the time you needed. He wanted you to understand that only he could have you, desire you fiercely… because only he would listen to your body 100%.

You and Jake stared at the open Spotify screen on his laptop, scrolling through song options.

“What song could we listen to that we could both dance and sing to?” you asked, tilting your head as you read through various titles that were also in your own playlist. Jake made a small, thoughtful pout, running a finger over his chin until his eyes lit up. “How about ‘Dancing with Myself’? It’s super rhythmic, I used to listen to it all the time with my dad. It’s got that ‘80s rock beat that makes your feet, body, and head move all at once. What do you think?”

You beamed and hit play on the computer resting on his desk. Immediately, the iconic, overwhelming drum intro filled the room through the speakers. You didn’t need to be told twice—you started swaying your hips and bouncing on the rug, following your own rhythm. Meanwhile, Jake brought a hand to his face, perhaps out of embarrassment? His wolf ears bent slightly backward, betraying a hint of shy embarrassment at seeing you so unleashed—just for him. But at the same time, he was thrilled to see you so at ease in his company.

“Come on, Jake! Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed to dance a little with me!” you laughed, your hair swaying slightly with every movement. Seeing his gaze on you, you approached him—he was still sitting on the edge of the bed and teased him, holding up your pinky finger. “There’s no one else here. I won’t tell anyone!” Without thinking, you grabbed his wrists with your hands and playfully but firmly urged him to stand up and dance with you.

He closed his eyes for a second, sighing to compose himself in the situation he’d gotten himself into just to make you happy and help you understand he was the right one for you. When he opened them again, he saw your contagious laughter ringing out with the music, and a resigned but incredibly sweet smile spread across his lips. He, too, began to sway his body, following your movements, which were clumsy but magnetic to him, because in that moment, it was just you.

“Come on, Jake, loosen up a bit! Where’s the fearless campus bad boy who’s afraid of nothing?” you teased, pulling him even closer. “We’re just dancing and trying to… trust each other.” You swayed your hips, and at the mention of trust, Jake took a deep breath. He placed his large hands with extreme gentleness on your waist, moving to the rhythm of the song.

You laughed happily, and with a burst of joy, you did a little spin, gracefully slipping out of his grip and stepping a few paces toward the center of the room, perhaps on purpose, because you definitely wanted his attention and those eyes always on you.

Jake made a small, frustrated pout at being deprived of your touch and walked with feline grace to close the distance again. When he reached you, you threw your arms around his neck, stopping his advance but staying very close.

“Don’t try to touch me like you already own me, Jake,” you whispered, looking him straight in the eyes with a mix of challenge and vulnerability. “Try to let go… and touch me like I’m something completely new.”

At those words, Jake’s animal nature took over for a moment. The wolf inside him growled softly, eager to grab you tightly and press you against his chest, to show you that every single cell of your body already belonged to him. But he shook off that overpowering thought with a shake of his head and muttered in a low voice: “Easy for you to say… when you already own my entire body, Y/n.”

Jake prayed you hadn’t heard him and maybe you hadn’t. So he slowly slid a hand behind your back, caressing the fabric of the jersey right where the large number 5 was printed. You let him, returning to your gentle dancing in front of him, completely wrapped in his scent. But seeing him completely lost in you, you turned your back, still following the rhythm of the music. Your body inevitably pressed against his chest, and that’s when you clearly felt Jake losing patience with you… his self-control was crumbling because of you. You felt the warmth of his nose press directly against your exposed throat, inhaling your scent until it gave you shivers, while his hands tightened decisively around your waist, anchoring you to him.

As you continued to move against his warm body, Jake exhaled a trembling sigh against your skin, breathing in your sweet scent, which had finally softened and become extremely sweet—a sign that you were completely trusting him.

“Damn… they’ll have to make me a saint for how I’m holding back tonight, Y/n,” he said roughly against you in a low voice. You giggled, finding his frustration incredibly adorable, especially because you knew all the girls he’d been with had thrown themselves at him without a second thought. He’d never had to fight for anything when it came to girls. Seeing him so vulnerable sparked something in you. So you moved your hips even more against him.

But Jake, sensing his limit was almost reached, abruptly stepped back. When you turned to look at him, confused, he shook his head, his breath short and his ears lowered, trying to recover that last shred of “good boy” dignity he had left.

This time, you took a step forward. You walked toward him with determination as the first notes of Enrique Iglesias’ I Like It began to fill the dimly lit room. Driven by a sudden rush of adrenaline and the desire that had been building for weeks, you rose slightly onto your tiptoes, grabbed the collar of his T-shirt, and pulled him down forcefully, eliminating any remaining distance. You pressed your lips against his in a wet, sweet, and desperate kiss

Your lips tasted like strawberries—a sweet, sugary flavor that revealed your obsession with the fruit. Jake was completely hypnotized by it. It was only the second time you’d kissed, but his mind instantly registered how your lips fit and locked perfectly with his, as if they were made for that exact embrace.

In the room, lit only by the glow of the computer screen, the wet sound of your mouths meeting echoed clearly, amplifying the tension that had built up between you over weeks. When you slightly parted your lips to catch your breath, Jake took the opportunity. With extreme slowness, he used the sharp tip of one of his wolf canines to gently nibble on your lower lip. A weak, excited moan escaped your throat, making both Jake’s human and hybrid sides tremble.

“Ahh…” you moaned, and Jake smiled against your lips, pleased by your reaction. He moved on to gently sucking that spot while you began to sway and wiggle in his arms, pushing your hips against his body out of pure instinct—to get closer to him, to tease him in return. Not wanting to give him all the control, you slid your hands into his hair, reaching the base of his wolf ears, where you knew, from the beginning of your acquaintance—that ears and tails were the most sensitive parts for a hybrid. You began to caress that ultra-sensitive spot with your fingertips, and Jake let out a deep, almost growl-like moan that escaped as your lips were still just millimeters apart:

“Mmh… Y/n…”

In retaliation, this time you smiled between his lips, continuing to move your fingers over those soft, warm ears, making him shiver. Jake was restraining himself with every single cell of his body because his wolf nature was literally howling from the sensory overload of everything happening in just a few moments. His instinct screamed at him to pin your wrists above your head, to use his canines to mark your skin, and to take everything he desired. But before the beast could take over, you took two steps back, pulling him with you. You tripped over the edge of the bed, and you both tumbled together onto the soft mattress, with you lying on your back and him on top of you.

Jake quickly planted his forearms on either side of your head, using all the strength in his muscular arms to avoid crushing you with his weight. He lowered his gaze, and at that sight, he seriously thought he was a dead man. You were fuckingbeautiful lying there on his pillow, your hair messy and framing your face, your lips visibly swollen and glossy from the kisses, your cheeks flushed with excitement.

Damn. He never would have thought you, of all people, would be his mate, the human who would bring his wolf to its knees. He had to mentally admit that Jay, Heeseung, and all the other pack members had been right—they’d realized from the very first moment you’d stepped through the door of their house that you were his destined mate.

Your hands trembled slightly as they continued to caress his ears. Jake, noticing that tremor and seeing how your eyes kept searching for his, asked in a rough whisper: “What do you want to do, sweetheart?”

You stayed silent for a few seconds while his eyes continued to devour your body, careful not to cross that invisible line you’d drawn after telling him what had happened to you. “Could you… could you, I don’t know, kiss me again?” you finally murmured, looking away in embarrassment. “But… not on the lips. I don’t really know what to do, Jake… Honestly, I don’t want this to be embarrassing for you.” You tried not to feel at fault in that moment, and Jake released one hand from its grip on the mattress. He passed it with infinite gentleness over your cheek, lifting your face to force you to look at him. He whispered against your lips:

“Sweetheart… you can’t make anything embarrassing with me. It’s all in your head. Whatever we do tonight won’t be anywhere near embarrassing. You just have to tell me when you feel overwhelmed, just tell me to stop, and I’ll do it instantly… I promise.” You instinctively nuzzled into his warm hand, pressing your cheek against his palm, and closed your eyes.

“Please… please, kiss me, Jake.”

Jake didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned over you and kissed you again, but this time, it wasn’t a kiss charged with urgency like the previous one. Instead, it was an incredibly slow, wet, and protective contact to make you understand that you could trust him.

Then, he slowly slid downward, and his nose pressed directly against the hollow of your neck. He inhaled deeply, your sweet scent now even more intense with your heated skin. He wondered how he’d managed to survive 23 years without noticing that scent.

“Damn, Y/n…” he murmured against your skin, and those words sent shivers down your entire spine. “This scent is driving me literally crazy. You smell like warm strawberries, something like cotton candy, and clean skin… I swear I could spend the whole night just breathing you in here.”

You let out a weak giggle at that declaration because you knew those words came more from his animal nature. But your laughter died in your throat when Jake’s warm lips finally pressed against your bare skin, and the wolf began to place light, wet, slow kisses along the entire line of your neck, moving up to the base of your jaw and then back down toward your collarbone.

Small, muffled moans echoed in the room every time Jake’s mouth moved, placing wet kisses and light, gentle bites from your neck down to your chest, just above the hem of his T-shirt. His hybrid nature clearly sensed how his wild scent was covering your skin, marking you minute by minute beneath him. Feeling his scent blend so intimately with yours sent a wave of even denser, more primal excitement through him. He never thought it would feel so incredible to have his scent anchored to his mate, and this realization drove him wild.

Your eyes were slightly closed, your fingers still weakly tangled in his hair. Everything was going incredibly well—until Jake slightly pulled away from your neck and slid a hand under the hem of the T-shirt, caressing the bare skin of your stomach. Small shivers of pure pleasure bloomed on your skin as he continued to kiss you lightly and tease your throat. He asked in an incredibly sweet and rough whisper: “Is this okay, sweetheart? Do you like it?”

You simply nodded, but that wasn’t the answer you’d agreed on to maintain control. So Jake stopped a millimeter from your lips: “Words, sweetheart… use those beautiful, plump lips I’ve been kissing to answer me. I want to hear your voice,” he teased. So you lifted your eyes to his and murmured: “Yes… it’s all good, Jake. You can keep going.”

At that confirmation, a smile lit up his face, and he praised you shamelessly, making your blood rush: “That’s how a good girl behaves…” You rolled your eyes at that statement, but then his hand slid slowly lower, slipping out from under the T-shirt to gently press against the inside of your thigh. At that pressure, you swallowed hard, feeling your heart race. But you trusted Jake blindly, so as he kissed you again to distract you, you felt his hand slide under the sweatpants. He began with just one finger to brush against the thin fabric of your lace panties. But as soon as you felt even the slightest real pressure of that intimate contact, your body short-circuited. You froze instantly, stiffening like a piece of ice beneath him. You tried to speak, to say something, but your throat tightened as if blocked by a thread pulling tight—one of the things that had happened to you on that damn night.

Jake, whose hybrid senses were tuned to every millisecond of your reactions, immediately noticed the drastic change in your heartbeat and the tension in your muscles. He stopped instantly, pulling his hand back. As he lifted his gaze to you, he whispered your name: “Y/n…?”

You didn’t answer, but he saw how your wide, fixed eyes on the ceiling were beginning to fill with silent panic, making you feel vulnerable in front of him. Without a hint of hesitation, Jake completely moved away from you, shifting to the side to free you from his weight. “Hey, hey… little one, nothing’s happening. Look at me, it’s all okay,” he said in an incredibly gentle voice, opening his arms. You slowly sat up and immediately took refuge in his arms.

You hugged him as if he were your living shield, hiding your face in the hollow of his warm neck, breathing in his scent to at least ease all the bad thoughts resurfacing in your mind. For the second time in just a few days, you whispered against his skin, barely holding back tears of frustration: “See, Jake… I… I’m broken. I trust you, I really do… but I just can’t do it. And that’s the worst part… feeling like this.”

His large hands began to gently caress your back, tracing circles over your T-shirt to calm you. But inside him, the wolf was growling furiously because he had a mad desire to find whoever had hurt you in the past and punch them, leave them to rot somewhere. But his human, rational side took over because he knew he had to handle the situation with extreme delicacy.

After a few moments of silence, he caressed your hair and asked, with a slightly embarrassed but extremely serious tone: “When you’re alone… do you feel safe giving yourself pleasure? Or is it a situation that blocks you, whether you’re alone or with other people?”

You slightly widened your eyes, still with your chin resting on his shoulder, because the question caught you completely off guard. It was the kind of question your therapist asked, not a guy you’d known for only a few months. But you answered: “Sometimes… I feel safe alone, but other times, no,” you said in a low voice. Jake pulled back just enough to look at your face. “So, when you’re alone and feel safe… can you give yourself pleasure, or not?”

You lifted your chin slightly, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment at the conversation because you didn’t understand where he was going with this. “Are… are you asking if I can masturbate, Jake?”

Jake chuckled, and you saw his cheeks redden as he shrugged, running a hand through his thick hair. “Damn, sweetheart… you asked me to have sex with you a few days ago. I don’t think you’d be scandalized if I ask if you can give yourself pleasure! I just want to understand,” he said, trying to be the most serious guy in the world at that moment. You looked away and said: “Yes… I can give myself pleasure, but…”

You couldn’t finish the sentence, but Jake answered right away, anticipating the truth: “You can give yourself pleasure, but you can’t come, right? You block yourself at the last moment, right?” You nodded slowly, lowering your head. A deep, calm silence fell over the room, interrupted only by the sound of light rain beginning to patter against the window. Suddenly, you saw Jake get up from the bed.

A shiver of terror ran down your spine because you feared he wanted to end things there, that he was tired of your blocks and complexities, that you had to hurry up and figure it out on your own or with a good therapist: “Where are you going?” you asked in a thin voice. But Jake wasn’t running away. You watched him walk to the desk, grab the swivel chair, and place it against the desk. The distance wasn’t much, but at the same time, you felt alone sitting on that bed. You watched him sit down right in front of you, and you didn’t understand what he wanted to do.

“You can give yourself pleasure, but at the same time, you can’t reach orgasm. And it’s all in your head, Y/n. It’s a matter of trust—in yourself, but also in the other person who’s there with you in that moment,” he explained calmly. Then, with a slightly cheeky smile, the corners of his lips curled up—one of those smiles you’d started to recognize right away, and you didn’t know whether to trust it.

“So… here’s my idea: why don’t we pleasure ourselves together, but each on our own?”

You widened your eyes, struck by the proposal because you’d never thought of anything like that. “You try to make yourself come by yourself, touching yourself the way you usually do when you’re alone in your safe space… and I’ll try to make myself come by myself, but right here in front of you. It’ll be a test of total mutual trust, Y/n. We’ll both be vulnerable, both exposed, but without either of us touching the other or forcing anything. We’ll just watch each other. What do you think?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out for a full minute. Jake’s proposal had never crossed your mind in all these years it was definitely too intimate for two people who weren’t even officially together, yet it was also incredibly mature.

“Y/n? Are you there?” he asked as you tortured your lips, biting them. You looked at him carefully, searching his eyes for any trace of irony. “You’re not teasing me, are you, Jake?” you whispered. He shook his head decisively. “I’ve never been more serious in my life, Y/n.”

“It could work… I usually don’t do things like this...actually, I’ve never seen anyone masturbate in front of me,” you admitted, your cheeks literally burning. After all, you’d never even watched porn, so you had no idea what to expect.

“But I think we could try, like you said—it’ll be a test of self-trust. You’ll see me vulnerable, but I’ll also see you exposed, ‘inert’ in a way… and I think it’ll be an important step for when, one day, we have sex for real,” you said, convincing yourself that it was a good idea to see each other vulnerable. Jake nodded, and with a crooked, amused smile, he commented: “See? I’m not so bad… I told you I was smart, Y/n!”

You rolled your eyes but hinted at a smile: “Don’t count your chickens just yet, Jake. Let’s see if it works first,” you said as you both stared at each other for a moment. You felt the tension in the room start to rise again, and you bit your lip, embarrassed, asking: “Who… who takes their clothes off first?”

Jake shrugged with total nonchalance at your question and said: “I’ll go first. I’ve got nothing to hide… quite the opposite,” he teased. You closed your eyes slightly until you saw him stand up. With a fluid movement, he pulled his T-shirt over his head. Without that fabric covering him, you couldn’t help but count the ridges of his abs, sculpted and defined, four perfect muscular hills on his toned stomach until your gaze fell on the obvious V-line that descended symmetrically, disappearing into the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers.

His arms, though not excessively massive, were marked by bulging veins that stood out under his skin, giving him an incredibly athletic appearance. Deep down, you understood why everyone said Jake was gorgeous, and you literally felt your mouth water as you watched him lazily grab the strings of his sweatpants. Jake noticed immediately how your eyes were practically worshipping him with a hint of mischief. He shot you a complicit look, feeling his hybrid nature rejoice with pleasure. “Can I take off my pants and boxers too, sweetheart?” he asked, and you murmured: “Yes…”

With a smirk on his face, he let his sweatpants slide down, revealing his muscular, athletic thighs. But it was when he completely dropped his boxers that your eyes widened, and a shiver ran down your spine. Jake had no issues with his body—in fact, he was extremely comfortable in his own skin. At the sight of his erect member slapping against his lower abs, you nearly lost your breath. You’d never seen anything like it before: it wasn’t excessively long, but it was incrediblythick, hard, marked by prominent veins, and already covered in a slight pearly sheen on the tip. You realized it was seriously wild and not entirely human.

Seeing you so captivated and curious, Jake enjoyed the show of your wide eyes and loved seeing you open-mouthed for him. “Do you like what you see, sweetheart?” he asked with a cheeky tone. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to lift your gaze to his face so you wouldn’t get too distracted by all that perfection just a few meters away. You desperately wanted to touch him, but you knew that first, you had to trust him completely.

“Wow… besides being beautiful on the inside, I have to admit you’re beautiful on the outside too, Jake. But you already know that—everyone tells you so,” you said.

He made a small, disappointed pout, as if that compliment wasn’t exclusive enough for him. To tease you, he took a slow step toward you, wrapping his hand around his shaft and moving it just slightly with a single, slow slide of skin just to show you how responsive he was to your gaze.

“They might say that to me, but I only care if you like it,” he whispered in a rough voice. Then, with a nod of his chin toward your clothes, he concluded: “But enough talking… Your turn, Y/n. Take your clothes off.”

At that command—which could’ve been interpreted in a way far different from how you saw it—Jake couldn’t wait to discover the beauty of your body, judging by the way he was looking at you. You felt your cheeks literally burn, and a sudden heat dyed your face a deep red, which he found adorable.

“I’ll… I’ll obviously take off my pants and the shirt, but I’d like to keep the bra on, if that’s okay with you,” you said in a barely audible voice, almost afraid of his objection. But Jake looked at you with his hands trembling slightly along his sides, betraying the immense effort he was making not to pounce on you and touch you, smell you.

“Do whatever makes you feel most comfortable, Y/n,” he replied in an incredibly gentle tone, though his tail couldn’t stay still for a second. His nose picked up every scent of yours, ranging from sweetness to something teasing due to your anxiety. “There’s absolutely no problem for me. Take all the time you need.”

Reassured by his words, you nodded. You weren’t sure what to take off first, feeling his eyes on you, not missing a single millimeter of your movements. You wanted to scream at him to close his eyes or turn away, but sooner or later, Jake would see you naked. So you slightly rose from the mattress, and with somewhat uncertain, maybe awkward—not entirely sexy—gestures, you let the sweatpants slide down your legs.

At the sight of your toned thighs and fair skin, Jake visibly swallowed, clenching his fists against his hips. When his eyes caught the purple lace trim of your panties peeking out from under the hem of his oversized T-shirt, a mix between a moan and a sigh escaped his lips, which he’d been torturing with his teeth. He wanted to touch you in that exact moment—it was a damn devastating temptation, the idea of getting up from the chair and crawling back onto the bed to trap you beneath him. But he forced himself to stay still because he didn’t want to ruin anything, especially seeing how your hands were trembling.

After minutes of staring at each other, you took a deep breath and murmured: “Okay… I’m taking off your shirt now.”

Jake nodded slowly, unable to tear his eyes away from your body. “Do it, sweetheart. You’re so damn beautiful… don’t be afraid to let me look at you. I bet there’s a body to worship under there, not one to hide from my eyes,” he said in a low voice. Those words gave you courage, and you crossed your arms, lifting the fabric over your head. In the exact moment you stood in front of him wearing only a damn purple Victoria’s Secret set, decorated with small embroidered flowers that framed your body like you were a work of art on a canvas, the hybrid inside him lost his mind completely.

Jake let out a low growl that came entirely from his animal instinct—a purely wild sound. It was the very first time you’d heard him growl like that, so wild and primal. That sound made your entire body tremble, but not out of fear—rather, it was a mix of physical and mental connection between you. You’d discovered that hybrids both purr and growl: they purr in acts of pure docility with their mate, while growls can serve as a warning of danger, a sign not to touch their mate or their pack, or in a sense of pure excitement. And that’s what Jake was feeling in that moment: he was growling at the sight of the bliss of your body just a few meters away from him, but he couldn’t even brush you with a finger.

His eyes widened at that sound because you hadn’t expected it, and Jake couldn’t stop staring at you, open-mouthed, devouring your body with his hungry eyes. He studied carefully how the curve of your breasts seemed to try to escape from the bra cups, pushed upward. He’d always known you had an abundant chest, but at that sight, his mind—which was currently running on purely animal and instinctive tracks—was flooded with dark, possessive thoughts. He thought about how much he wanted to grab that soft flesh in his hands, how he wanted to suck on those warm nipples until you screamed his name. He even thought about how beautiful it would be to see them swollen and full of milk, watching it gush out as he filled you with his seed to bring your pups to life.

He shook his head to chase away those intense fantasies, running a hand over his mouth before complimenting you in that typical hybrid tone of his—shameless and lewd: “Damn, Y/n… you’re a fucking work of art. That purple against your fair skin is driving me crazy. I knew you had perfect breasts, and I swear, if I weren’t confined to this chair, I’d have already consumed your skin with bites and kisses.” He said this while biting his lips, which were almost bleeding from how much he’d been nibbling on them in the last few minutes.

You sat back down on the edge of the bed with your legs curled up, trying to calm your racing heart. Now that you were both almost completely naked, you had to start what you’d agreed to do.

“Who… who starts this time?” you asked, looking at him with a mix of shyness and challenge, watching as he was already lightly touching his exposed shaft. But the Jake you’d known in the lecture halls or around the campus café wasn’t the one answering now. This time, it was his dominant, unfiltered wolf side speaking, with an incredibly rough and authoritative voice: “Let me see how you make yourself feel good, Y/n. Let me see how you slide those trembling fingers inside your wet folds… and I want to hear how my name sounds when it comes out of your lips while you touch yourself in front of me.”

At those words, you swallowed hard and closed your eyes for a moment. You’d never done anything like this before, and you wanted the earth to swallow you whole. But when you opened your eyes again, Jake was there, watching you intently. “You don’t have to be afraid right now, Y/n. It’s just you and me. Slide your panties aside gently if you don’t want to take them all the way off. Let me see how wet you are… I can smell it from here, you’re already soaked.”

Your cheeks burned at his words. With trembling hands, you slid your fingers toward your panties, already feeling the heat of your arousal. You pulled the edge down just enough to reveal your lips to Jake. At the sight, he groaned, and you instinctively closed your eyes but that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a mix of command and tenderness. “It’s not just me who gets to watch you pleasure yourself. You need to watch too.”

You obeyed, and what you saw took your breath away: his hands wrapped around his shaft, moving up and down in a slow, deliberate rhythm. The tip, flushed and glistening, grew thicker with every stroke, and a bead of pre-cum slid down the length. You crossed your legs, the desire burning inside you. “Please, Jake… Please talk to me. I feel… lost,” you mumbled, your eyes fixed on him.

Jake sighed, his patience stretched thin. “Slide your panties all the way down your legs,” he ordered, his voice a contained growl. “Use your middle finger on your clit and start rubbing. But don’t you dare close your eyes.”

You sighed in response and did as he said. Your panties slid off, and you shifted slightly higher on the bed, spreading your legs under his hungry gaze. Jake cursed under his breath—the sight of you naked and ready to touch yourself without needing his command pushed him to the edge. It was as if, little by little, you were starting to understand the situation you’d gotten yourselves into… and that you could trust the man in front of you.

Jake watched as your trembling finger found your clit, already swollen and sensitive. “Is this okay?” you asked softly. He nodded, his dark eyes filled with desire. “Rub. Slowly. Let me hear you moan.”

And so you did. Your clit was already hypersensitive, and the touch of your fingers made you let out a small moan. Little by little, you felt more at ease, more daring. “Don’t stroke your cock so much, Jake… or you’ll come first,” you stammered, your lips parted, your breath ragged. “I… I want to come with you.”

Jake’s eyes widened at your confession, but he nodded. You saw his abs clench as he slowed his rhythm, rubbing his cock slowly in the grip of his hand. It was an incredible sight, you’d never imagined how exciting it could be to see a guy like him, just sitting there, watching you, while at the same time pleasuring himself just to make you feel at ease.

He realized that without his guidance, you wouldn’t dare go further. And at the sight of your naked body at his mercy, he could have come at any moment like an inexperienced teenager. But that was exactly what you did to him—you made him weak, and that both frustrated and reassured him, confirming that you were his mate. He adjusted himself on the chair, spreading his thighs, and said in a rough voice: “Sweetheart, your clit is swollen and ready. Now, with your eyes on me, try sliding a finger inside you. Any finger is fine, as long as it goes into those beautiful lips of yours. Let me see… let me hear your sounds, little one. Otherwise… I won’t last much longer.”

At his confession, you bit your lip. This was the hardest part: letting go without thoughts, without fears. But the sight of Jake, his honesty, his vulnerability, pushed you to want to give yourself pleasure… and to give him something deeply intimate. You spread your legs a little wider, took a deep breath, and slid a finger between your wet folds. The intrusion was a new sensation, different from the solitary games you played under the covers. You moaned, surprised by the pleasure coursing through you, both mentally and physically.

The wet sound of your finger moving in and out of you made Jake groan your name. You felt completely at ease under his gaze, which never left you for a second. You saw how his cock grew thicker and thicker, how droplets of fluid escaped with every movement.

“Keep going… keep going like that, little one,” he urged, his voice a growl. “You’re doing so well. Now that you’re nice and stretched, try sliding another finger in. And at the same time, rub your clit. That way, you’ll come soon… and I’ll come with you.”

As Jake had instructed, you slid another finger inside yourself. A deep, throaty moan escaped your lips, and his name spilled out like a broken sigh: “Jaaake…” The way you said it was desperate, sweet, and raw—like he was the only lifeline in a sea of overwhelming sensations. At the sound of his name, Jake cursed under his breath, a guttural “Fuck…” rumbling from his chest as he watched you completely lost in pleasure. He couldn’t hold back anymore. His arm muscles tensed as he began stroking himself harder, his fist gliding up and down his thick, throbbing shaft.

The room was thick with the sounds of your muffled moans and ragged breaths. It echoed with the wet, rhythmic sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of you, the creak of the chair beneath Jake amplifying every tiny noise. The scent was intoxicating—musky, sweet, and sharp all at once. Jake’s heightened hybrid senses picked up on how your fragrance grew richer with every passing minute, a heady blend of strawberry, arousal, and a hint of sweat. “Damn, Y/n… you’re so fucking sexy,” he growled, his voice rough and low, his eyes glued to you as he watched you writhe, pleasure coiling tighter inside you. “Look at how wet you are… how perfect you look.”

You closed your eyes, and with your free hand, you clutched Jake’s blanket, gripping it tightly between your fingers. Your voice trembled as you stammered, “Jake… it’s too much…”

He paused for a moment, his hand still wrapped around his cock, and asked with a mix of concern and desire, “What’s too much, sweetheart?”

You moaned, breathless, and confessed, “Everything… it’s all too much… and I… I want to come.”

At those words, Jake smiled—a hungry, satisfied grin. “You will in a few minutes, trust me. Now, tease your clit more and let go. But open those fucking eyes and watch what you’re doing to me,” he commanded, his voice a contained growl.

Embarrassed, cheeks flushed and lips parted, you obeyed. You opened your eyes and saw Jake barely holding back, his muscles taut, his breath ragged. With a whisper, you dared to say to him, “Let go…”

His eyes darkened slightly at your boldness, as if he hadn’t expected you to take control. But he didn’t say a word. Deep down, that small act of defiance only turned him on even more.

Your walls began to tighten around your fingers, and your clit throbbed with pleasure as small, breathy moans escaped your lips. “I… I’m about to come,” you whispered, your eyes half-lidded and glistening. At the sight of you so lost in pleasure, Jake gripped his shaft tighter and pumped harder, his voice rough as he urged, “Come on, sweetheart… let me see you come.”

You cried out, pleasure crashing over you like a wave. A few moments later, shivers raced through your body. You clenched the sheets of his bed tightly, your fingers still pumping and teasing your clit as your orgasm tore through you first. At the sight, Jake’s abs clenched, and with a groan of your name, he came too. Thin streams of white cum spilled from the tip of his cock, and he moaned in pleasure at the release. But honestly, he didn’t care much about his own climax. His eyes were locked on you—sprawled out on his bed, your stomach rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath, your lips parted in a perfect O, your hair wild, and your legs trembling.

Jake slowly stood up, wiping away the remnants of his release before pulling his boxers back on. At the sight of you lying there, relaxed and half-lidded, he asked, “Can I… can I come closer to you, little one?”

You opened your eyes and tried to sit up slightly, but the sticky wetness began to seep out of you, and you moaned at the sensation. At the sight, Jake’s smile returned, and he said, “See? I told you I could make you come without even touching you, sweetheart.”

You let out a weak, breathless giggle, still trembling from the last waves of pleasure. You watched Jake stretch his arm toward the nightstand to grab a tissue, then lean toward you on the bed with a naturalness and care that left you breathless. You felt his large, warm hands settle firmly but gently on your thigh to keep you still, and then he cleaned you slowly, with no rush or malice in his gaze, treating you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Your eyes never left his, not even for a millisecond, captivated by the sweetness in his expression.

When he finished and tossed the tissue into the trash can beside the bed, you shyly tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, your cheeks still warm from everything that had just happened. Seeing you so timid, Jake leaned toward you again, offering you the T-shirt you’d taken off earlier. He knew perfectly well that you’d just taken giant steps, having been half-naked and vulnerable in front of him, and he didn’t want to ruin the magic of the moment by rushing things.

“Lift your arms, sweetheart,” he said softly, and you did as he asked. He slid his oversized T-shirt down over your body, dressing you completely. As soon as the fabric covered you, moved by an impulse of gratitude and affection, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him forcefully toward you to kiss him.

Jake hadn’t expected you to kiss him of your own free will at all. He’d expected that, once the moment had passed, you might tease him or hide under the covers. Instead, you leaned forward and gently pulled his lower lip between your teeth, trapping it between your lips almost as a victory for everything that had happened.

Jake groaned against your lips a mix of a surprised grunt and a deep, pleasure-filled moan that vibrated in the back of his throat—as he instinctively placed his large hands on your hips to steady both of you on the mattress. Your mouths sought each other with a new urgency every time you had to pull apart to catch your breath. When you timidly slid your tongue against his, tasting him, you felt Jake smile against your mouth.

“Fuck, Y/n… you’re really driving me crazy tonight,” he whispered against your lips, unable to pull away from you. He’d become a full-on clingy boy with you. After a few seconds, Jake slowly pulled back to give you space, and you looked at him with infinite sweetness. “Thank you, Jake,” you said.

He smiled almost timidly, for the first time since you’d known him—and opened his arms on the bed in a silent invitation to hug you again. You didn’t need to be told twice. You nestled against his massive chest, inhaling his reassuring scent of pine, and pressed your head into the warm hollow of his neck.

Jake pulled you close, wrapping you completely in his strong, protective body. For long minutes, you both stayed there, still and embraced in the silence of the room, lulled only by the sound of your heartbeats slowly returning to normal and the patter of rain against the roof of the house. Eventually, you pulled back slightly from his chest and lifted your chin to look at him.

Jake was there, watching you from above, his ears relaxed and his gaze attentive. In that moment, he would have given anything for the ability to read your mind and know exactly what was going through that little head of yours.

Suddenly, though, he noticed your eyes growing glossy, filling with tears ready to spill down your cheeks. Jake’s heart literally skipped a beat, and his face painted an expression of pure panic, he thought he might have done or said something wrong.

“Hey, hey… little one, no, don’t cry!” he exclaimed, gently squeezing your shoulders. “Did I… was I too rough? Did I do or say something you didn’t like? I swear, I just wanted to...”

Before he could finish, you pressed a finger directly to his lips to silence him, cutting off the stream of anxious apologies.

“You… you made me realize that I need to talk to people, Jake. But most of all, you taught me that, after a while, I need to start tearing down my own protective walls… and that’s exactly what I managed to do tonight with you,” you said, looking him straight in the eyes. “I really don’t know how to thank you. You’ve been so patient with me, you never backed down from anything, and you’ve respected me from the very first moment I walked into this house. So… no, don’t be sad. These tears are just pure joy,” you concluded, weakly giggling as you wiped your face with the edge of his T-shirt sleeve.

Jake sighed deeply, feeling a knot of tension finally dissolve in his chest. A small smile formed on his lips as he lifted his hands to caress your face, using his thumbs with infinite gentleness to wipe away the last tears wetting your cheeks.

For days, since you’d confessed you wanted to have sex with him and shared everything that had happened to you, he’d feared he was too overbearing, too abrupt, or simply “wrong” for a sensitive girl like you. But in that moment, lulled by your strawberry scent, now free of any trace of fear, Jake finally felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

“I only did what any guy worthy of being by your side would have done, Y/n,” he murmured softly and sincerely, looking at you with a tenderness he rarely showed outside the walls of that room. He was only ever this sweet with his family and his pack… not even with his teammates, with whom he spent hours training, had he ever been this honest in his life. But you shook your head, pressing your cheek against his warm palm.

“No other guy would have done this…” you said quietly, meeting his gaze. Then, feeling embarrassment creep back in but determined not to lose that beautiful harmony, you continued with a clearly shy but resolute tone: “Now… yes, for next time, I’d like things to be less planned. I’d like them to flow more naturally between us. When they happen, they’ll happen… though, obviously, I expect it to happen again as soon as possible!” You said this while playing with the sleeve of his T-shirt, hoping he’d understand what you meant.

Jake’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by that sudden burst of boldness, and he burst into laughter as he watched you make yourself smaller. At the sight, he gently pinched your side, knowing you were ticklish, and said: “Damn… Where’s the shy, reserved girl who struggled to even look me in the eye gone? Don’t tell me I’ve created a creature who’s greedy for my touch, or that now you can’t do without me?”

You laughed heartily when his fingers started lightly tickling your sides, making you curl up against him on the mattress. To defend yourself, you rolled your eyes dramatically and teased him, playfully tapping his muscular chest: “Oh, please, Sim! Don’t get a big head. You’re the ‘golden boy’ of the team, the ‘frat boy’ everyone dreams about—I think that guy disappeared a while ago thanks to me. So before you talk, think about how you can’t stop finding excuses to touch me!”You laughed as Jake intensified the tickling.

Without stopping his smile, he leaned over you, pressed his soft lips to your forehead, and then moved up through your hair, leaving a reassuring kiss on you. When he pulled back slightly, his eyes shone with a hopeful light, finally making you understand that you could trust him.

“Will you stay tonight, Y/n?” he asked this time, stopping his teasing. You made a thoughtful pout and then slowly nodded, pulling him back to you by the shoulders, welcoming him into your embrace again.

But that happy ending hadn’t yet provided the right answers: What were you and Jake? How would he balance university, your constant presence in his routine, and being the captain of the soccer team, which was under the spotlight of scouts looking for the best striker for their teams? How would he balance his human nature with his hybrid one, with you getting closer and closer to him? And how would he get through his first heat as a hybrid, knowing you were his mate and that he wanted you for himself forever?

Rebblog and comments are appreciated

©cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2026.

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[jongseobsno1fan]

HELP FINDING A FIC!

An enhypen fic came up on my feed but i accidentally refreshed before I could finish it. It was Jake x reader where he was her brothers bsf and he accidentally sent a pic 👀👀 to a gc with both of them in. Im pretty sure it was posted sometime this year (idk if that helps at all 😭)

If anyone knows what fic im talking abt please lmk 🙏🙏

[wonluvzu]

WHAT YOU NEVER KNEW

⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ A semester in London was supposed to be the fresh start you had been waiting for. After spending an entire year trying to forget Jake and the misunderstanding that tore them apart, the last person she expected to see was him. Forced back into each other's lives, they find themselves sharing the same friends, the same city, and memories neither of them ever truly left behind. As old feelings begin to resurface, jealousy complicates everything, and the truth about last summer slowly comes to light. She is forced to question everything she thought she knew, including whether the person she spent a year trying to forget was ever the one she should have blamed.

This is PART 2

read PART 1 here first if you haven't yet!

𝙚𝙭 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙-ish! 𝙟𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 study abroad, london, college romance, neighbors, forced proximity, slow burn, yearning, angst, jealousy, unresolved feelings, mutual pining, banter, tension, emotional healing, miscommunication, second chance, ex-friends to lovers, friends to lovers, reader acts cold (tries to), protective jake, found family, roommate shenanigans, international students, longing, fluff, emotional confession, kissing, profanity, happy ending WARNINGS: MDNI, Explicit Smut (oral, p in v, unprotected (don't guys), fingering, dirty talk, marking, dom Jake), profanity (lemme know if I missed any) wc: 15,474 Songs 🎧: I Know What You Did Last Summer - Shawn Mendes & Camila Cabello, Wicked Games - The Weeknd, Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys, I Love You, I'm Sorry - Gracie Abrams, The Night We Met - Lord Huron, Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez, Daylight - Taylor Swift, Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

WEEK 1

Neither of us moved.

The hallway light buzzed above, too bright, too honest, like it wanted to make sure neither of us could pretend we hadn't seen the other clearly.

"You're—" Jake started.

"Yeah." I cut him off before he could finish the sentence I already knew. "I'm your neighbor. Apparently."

He looked down at the box in his arms like it might offer an explanation the universe hadn't bothered to give him.

"Small world," he said finally.

"Extremely small."

Somewhere behind him, a voice called out. "Is that Y/N? The girl you wouldn't stop talking about?"

Jake's ears went red so fast I almost laughed despite myself.

A guy appeared in the doorway behind him… tall, blond, grinning like he'd just been handed the best piece of gossip of his entire semester abroad when it literally just started. "Felix," he said, holding out a hand toward me like this was a completely normal way to meet someone. "I'm his roommate. We've know each other for a bit… right mate? Oh, and I heard everything about you literally, so. I know things."

"Felix," Jake said through his teeth.

"What? I'm being hospitable."

I shook Felix's hand, fighting a smile. "I'm going to need you to tell me those things at some point."

"Absolutely not," Jake said.

"Absolutely yes," Felix said at the same time.

Sophia chose that exact moment to come around the corner with an armful of snacks from the kitchen down the hall, stopping short when she registered the four of us standing in the hallway like a very awkward reunion.

"Did I miss something?"

"Apparently my high school friend lives across the hall from me now," I said.

Sophia's eyebrows shot up. "The Jake… sorry, the Jake you mentioned while unpacking?"

I hadn't meant to mention him at all, really. It had slipped out somewhere between unpacking my toiletries and explaining why my hometown friend group had scattered across three continents for the summer. Apparently I'd said more than I thought.

Jake looked at me. "You talked about me?"

"Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," Felix said cheerfully. "It's already there. Massive head. Constantly talking about—" Felix said while poking Jake.

"Felix."

"…nothing! Nothing at all. I said nothing."

Sophia and Felix exchanged a look over our heads, the kind of look that meant they'd both clocked exactly how much tension was sitting in that narrow hallway, and were already forming their own conclusions about it.

"Well," Sophia said, far too brightly. "This is going to be an interesting semester."

She wasn't wrong.

…

That first night, unpacking the last of my boxes long after Sophia had fallen asleep, I lay awake listening to the muffled sound of Jake's voice through the wall… laughing at something Felix said, low and easy in a way that used to be so familiar it hurt to hear it now, passed through the wall instead of directly to me.

I told myself it didn't matter which room he ended up in.

I told myself the universe hadn't done this on purpose.

I didn't believe either of those things, not really, but I said them to myself anyway, the way I'd been saying things to myself for over a year now, hoping that if I repeated them enough times they'd eventually come true.

They never did. But it didn't stop me from trying.

WEEK 2

I got good at it fast… the art of being polite without being warm. A nod in the hallway. A "morning" that ended the conversation before it started. Enough acknowledgment that no one could call it rude, not enough that it meant anything.

Jake noticed. Of course he noticed.

"You're doing the thing," he said one evening, catching me in the hallway with my laundry basket balanced on my hip.

"What thing?"

"The thing where you talk to me like I'm a mildly annoying classmate instead of someone you've known for six years."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Y/N."

"I have laundry to do, Jake."

He stepped slightly to the side, not blocking me, just standing there. Present in a way that made it hard to walk past him without acknowledging it.

"We live across the hall from each other," he said quietly. "We're going to see each other constantly. You know that, right?"

"I'm aware."

"So are we just going to do this? The whole semester? Just act nice and nothing else?"

I hitched the basket higher on my hip, mostly so I'd have something to do with my hands. "What's your plan huh?"

Something flickered across his face… frustration, maybe, or something closer to hurt. "I don't know. Maybe we actually talk. About last summer. About—"

"I have laundry," I said again, and walked past him before he could finish trying to get out of there quickly.

I made it three doors down before I let myself exhale.

Behind me, I heard his door close a little harder than necessary.

…

The laundry room in the basement was the kind of place nobody wanted to linger… bright lights, the constant noises of the machines, a bulletin board covered in flyers for clubs nobody joined. I liked it just because of that. Nobody came looking for you in the laundry room.

Except, apparently, Jake had learned my schedule.

"We have to stop meeting like this," he said, appearing in the doorway with a basket of his own just as I was pulling my clothes from the dryer.

"Do we have the same laundry day, or are you following me?"

"Little bit of both, honestly." He set his basket on the folding table beside mine, close enough that our arms nearly brushed. "Felix keeps buying the wrong detergent and it's giving me a rash, so I've started doing his laundry too. Don't ask."

Despite myself, I laughed. "That's the most Jake thing I've ever heard. Getting dragged into doing someone else's laundry. How?"

"He has a very convincing personality. Hard to say no to."

"Must run in your family from what I know, apparently."

The words slipped out before I could stop them, something soft and unguarded creeping into my voice, and I watched Jake go very still beside me, like he was scared to move in case it broke whatever this was.

"Y/N—"

"I didn't mean anything by it," I said quickly, folding a shirt with far more focus than the task required.

"Okay," he said, though the way he said it made it clear he didn't believe me either.

We folded laundry in silence after that, but it wasn't the same silence as before. It felt lighter. Dangerous, in the way that things that feel good usually are.

WEEK 3

The international student party was Felix's idea, which meant it was loud, chaotic, and somehow already crowded by the time Sophia and I arrived, half an hour late because she couldn't decide between two identical black tops.

"They're not identical," she insisted as we walked in.

"They're the same shirt, Sophia."

"They are NOT."

The flat Felix and Jake shared was packed wall to wall, string lights taped all along the ceiling, music thumping from a speaker someone had propped not securely on a stack of textbooks.

I spotted Jake almost immediately.

Because of course I did.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, laughing at something a girl beside him had said… tall, effortlessly pretty, her hand resting lightly on his arm in a way that made something ugly and a quick twist in my chest.

I hated how fast it happened. How little control I had over it. Over myself…

"You okay?" Sophia asked, following my line of sight.

"Fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I'm fine, Sophia."

I grabbed a drink from the counter and made myself walk in the opposite direction, toward a cluster of people I vaguely recognized from one of my lecture halls, and threw myself into conversation with an intensity that had nothing to do with genuine interest and everything to do with not looking back toward that kitchen.

It didn't work for long.

Every few minutes my eyes betrayed me, flicking back toward Jake, toward the girl still standing close, toward the easy way he smiled at whatever she was saying.

He caught me looking. Once. Twice.

The third time, I made myself hold his gaze instead of looking away first, something sharp and deliberate in the way I did it, and then I turned to the guy beside me… James, a literature student who'd been trying to get my attention for the last ten minutes, and laughed a little too loudly at something that was only half funny.

I felt Jake's eyes on me for the rest of the night.

I told myself I didn't care.

I was getting very good at telling myself things that weren't true.

…

Across the room, Felix elbowed Jake hard enough to make him spill a little of his drink.

"You're staring."

"I'm not staring."

"You've been staring at her and that literature guy for the last twenty minutes. I timed it."

"Why would you time it?"

"Because it's the most entertaining thing that's happened at this party, and I organized this party." Felix took a sip of his own drink, watching Jake with barely unemotional amusement. "You gonna do something about it, or just glare at the poor guy from across the room until he spontaneously combusts?"

"There's nothing to do anything about."

"Sure." Felix didn't sound convinced in the slightest way. "That's why your jaw's been doing that thing for the last twenty minutes."

"What thing?"

"The thing where it looks like you're trying to crack a coconut with just your face."

Jake didn't add to that with a response, mostly because he suspected Felix was right, and he didn't particularly want to admit it out loud.

…

Later, when James excused himself to refill drinks and Sophia disappeared to find Felix, I ended up alone on the fire escape outside the kitchen window, the London night cool and damp against my skin, grateful for a moment of quietness.

I wasn't alone for long.

"You looked like you were having fun in there," Jake said, climbing out through the window behind me, two drinks in hand. He held one out. I took it without really thinking.

"I was."

"With James."

"Is that a problem?"

He leaned against the railing, jaw tight, staring out at the skyline instead of at me. "No."

"You sound thrilled about it."

"I said it's not a problem, Y/N."

"You don't have to say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're trying to convince yourself."

He turned to look at me then, something raw flashing across his face before he shut it down, tucked it away the way he always did. "Maybe I am. Trying to convince myself. Is that what you want to hear?"

My heart stuttered. "What does that mean?"

"It means—" He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair, frustration written across every line of him. "It means watching you laugh like that with someone else is doing something to me that I don't really want to look too closely at right now."

The honesty of it caught me off guard.

"You don't get to be jealous," I said quietly. "Not after everything."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"I know I have no right to be. Doesn't stop me from being it anyway."

We stood there, the London skyline stretched out beyond the fire escape, neither of us saying the thing that actually needed saying, both of us circling it the way we always did.

"I should go find Sophia," I said finally.

"Y/N—"

"Goodnight, Jake."

I climbed back through the window before he could stop me, my heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold.

WEEK 4

Classes fell into routine faster than I expected. Lecture halls and reading assignments and the particular chaos of navigating a city that still felt too big for me. Somewhere in the noise of syllabus weeks and new friendships, Jake and I settled into an uneasy truce… not quite friends, not quite strangers, something put off between that neither of us had the guts to name.

We saw each other constantly. The hallway. The shared kitchen at such odd hours. The campus coffee shop where, annoyingly, we both seemed to have the exact same study schedule.

"You're here again," I said, sliding into the seat across from him one Thursday afternoon, more out of habit than decision.

"You're here again too."

"I was here first."

"Debatable."

We worked in silence for a while, my highlighter scratching against a reading packet, his laptop keys clicking steadily. It wasn't uncomfortable. That was the strange part. Somewhere in the last few weeks, the silence between us had stopped being a wall and started being something closer to peace.

"Can I ask you something?" he said eventually, not looking up from his screen.

"Depends on the question."

"What actually happened? Last summer. From your side."

My stomach dropped. "Jake."

"I'm not trying to start anything," he said quickly. "I just… I've spent a year wondering what you thought you saw. What you actually think happened."

I set my highlighter down carefully, trying to buy myself a second. "I saw you. With someone else. In a bedroom, at a party, with your arms around her."

"That's what you saw," he said. "It's not what happened."

"Then what exactly happened?"

He was quiet for a long moment, jaw working like he was fighting with himself over how much to say. "She kissed me. I was trying to get her to stop. That's the whole story. That's genuinely the whole story, and I've wanted to tell you for a year, and every single time I try, something interrupts us, or you walk away, or—"

"I didn't walk away just now."

"No," he agreed softly. "You didn't."

Something in my chest cracked open, just slightly. "Why didn't you just tell me? That night. Or the next morning. Or literally any point in the last year!?"

"Because you looked at me like I'd broken something," he said. "And I didn't know how to explain it without it sounding like an excuse. And then you left for school, and I left for school, and every month that went by made it feel like a bigger and bigger thing to bring up. Like I'd missed my window."

"You could've called."

"You could've answered."

Fair.

"There's more," he added quietly, almost hesitant. "I should've told you before that night, too. That I'd liked you for way longer than a summer. I think part of why it hurt so much when you walked away is because I'd been trying to work up the nerve to tell you exactly that, for weeks, and then everything just… fell apart before I got the chance."

I stared at him, something in my chest twisting painfully. "You never said anything."

"I know. I was a coward about it. I'm still kind of a coward about it, honestly, considering it's taken me an entire year and living across the hall from you to say any of this out loud."

We sat there, the coffee shop noise fading into background static, a year of silence sitting heavy on the table between us.

"I believe you," I said finally, quietly. "About that night."

Relief flooded across his face, so visible it almost undid me completely.

"But," I continued, "it doesn't undo the year we lost pretending it didn't matter."

"I know."

"I don't know how to just... go back to normal."

"I don't want normal," he said, and something in his voice made my breath catch. "I want—"

His phone buzzed loudly against the table, cutting through whatever he'd been about to say. He glanced at it, jaw tightening.

"I have to go," he said, standing abruptly, gathering his things with more urgency than the moment warranted. "Study group. I forgot."

"Jake—"

"We'll finish this," he said, already halfway to the door. "I promise."

He didn't look back.

I sat there long after he'd left, my coffee gone cold, replaying every word, wondering … again, what he'd almost said, and when, if ever, I'd actually get to hear the end of that sentence.

WEEK 4 ½ 

The study group Jake mentioned in passing turned out to include a girl named Lara, sharp and funny in a way I noticed immediately and hated myself for noticing, who apparently sat next to him in every single one of their shared lectures and had, according to Sophia's extremely reliable intelligence network, been "very obviously into him since week one."

I told myself it didn't matter.

I told myself I had absolutely no right to feel the hot, and that damn ugly twist in my chest every time I walked past the library and saw them at the same corner table, heads bent over the same textbook, Lara laughing at something Jake said with her hand resting lightly on his arm.

UGH!

I told myself all of this while standing frozen in the library doorway for a solid thirty seconds before Sophia physically pulled me away by the sleeve.

"You're doing the staring thing," she said.

"I'm not staring." I said sternly.

"You've been staring for so long a librarian looked concerned."

"I don't have any right to be upset about this. We're not even together. We're just… whatever we are. I don't get to be jealous."

Sophia gave me a look that suggested she found that argument quite exhausting to listen to for the fourth time that month. "You're allowed to have feelings, Y/N, even messy, complicated, technically not justified ones. That's just what feelings simply are. They don't wait for permission."

"That's literally annoyingly reasonable."

"I have my moments." she says proudly.

…

Jake, for his part, was having a nearly identical crisis roughly forty feet away, sitting across from Lara at the library table while doing an extremely poor job of concentrating on anything she was actually saying.

"You're not listening to a word of this," Lara said eventually, not unkindly, closing her textbook with a soft thud.

"Sorry. I am. Photosynthesis, right?"

"We're doing European economic history. There has been no photosynthesis discussed at any point during this study session."

"Right. Sorry. I'm a little distracted."

Lara followed his gaze toward the library entrance, where Y/N had just disappeared around the corner with Sophia, and something knowing crossed her face. "Is this about your neighbor? The one Felix won't stop bringing up?"

Jake's ears went predictably red. "Felix has a big mouth."

"Felix has told approximately everyone in a four block radius that his roommate is, quote on quote, "hopelessly, tragically in love with the girl across the hall," so. Yes. I'm aware."

"That's… an exaggeration."

"Is it?"

Jake didn't answer, mostly because he thought it wasn't much of one.

"For what it's worth," Lara said, gathering her things with a small, understanding smile, "you should probably just tell her. Whatever it is you're clearly sitting on. Life's too short to keep having imaginary study dates with me while you're actually thinking about someone else the entire time."

"Was I that obvious?"

"Extremely."

Jake groaned, dropping his head into his hands, while Lara laughed and headed toward the door, leaving him alone with a stack of unread notes and a growing, insistent certainty that he'd been wasting far too much time being careful about something that clearly wasn't going anywhere just on its own.

WEEK 5

Sophia decided, with the same unstoppable enthusiasm Yunjin used to bring to bonfire nights back home, that we all needed a day away from campus. "A reset," she called it, though none of us were entirely sure what we were supposed to be resetting from three weeks into the semester.

It turned into an entire group outing… me, Sophia, Jake, Felix, and a handful of others we'd picked up along the way, a French exchange student named Chloe who'd become fast friends with Sophia in one of their shared seminars, and a quiet, dry witted guy named Kai who Felix had adopted somewhere in the dining hall.

We took the train out to the coast, a stretch of rocky cliffs and gray water that looked nothing like the beach back home and somehow felt achingly familiar anyway.

"This is basically our beach," Felix said, throwing his arms wide as we climbed off the train. "Just colder. And greyer. And the water will probably try to kill you."

"Very reassuring," Chloe said.

"I specialize in reassurance."

The day unfolded easily, the kind of loose, wandering afternoon that reminded me painfully of every beach day from the summer before, Sophia and Chloe racing each other along the tide line, Felix and Kai getting into an increasingly ridiculous argument about whether a rock formation in the distance looked more like a dragon or a very large potato, and me, trailing slightly behind, watching it all with an ache in my chest I couldn't quite name.

Jake fell into step beside me without a word.

"You've got that look again," he said.

"What look?"

"The one where you're somewhere else entirely."

I let out a breath. "It just reminds me of last summer. Before everything got complicated. All over again"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Me too."

We walked in silence for a while, the wind picking up off the water, salt and cold air settling over both of us.

"Do you ever wish we could go back?" I asked. "Before the beach house. Before any of it. Just… reset the whole thing?"

Jake considered the question seriously, the way he always did. "No," he said finally. "I used to. For a long time, honestly. But I think if none of it happened, I don't know if I ever would've told you any of what I told you at the coffee shop. I think I needed to almost lose it completely to actually be brave enough to say any of it."

"That's a very optimistic way to look at an entire year of misery."

"I contain many."

I laughed despite myself, and for a moment, walking along that cliffside with the wind whipping my hair across my face, it felt like nothing had ever gone wrong between us at all.

Then Felix's voice rang out from up ahead. "Y/N! Settle this! Dragon or potato!"

"Dragon," I called back immediately.

"THANK you," Felix said proudly, throwing a look of pure victory at Kai.

"It's clearly a potato," Jake muttered under his breath, just for me.

"Don't ruin my moment."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

…

We ate fish and chips out of paper wrapping, sitting in a loose circle on a stretch of the pebbled beach as the sun started its slow descent, and for a few hours, everything felt easy in a way it hadn't in a long time.

"Okay, confession time," Chloe announced, regarding to nothing, licking salt off her fingers. "Sophia told me there's history between the two of you." She gestured vaguely between me and Jake. "Is that true, or is Sophia just enjoying stirring up drama in her spare time?"

"Little bit of both," Sophia said cheerfully, entirely unbothered by being called out.

I felt my face heat up. Beside me, Jake suddenly became very interested in a piece of driftwood.

"There's history," I admitted.

"Complicated history," Jake added.

"The most complicated," Felix agreed, nodding sagely like he'd personally witnessed every second of it, which, admittedly, he basically had… kind off.

"So are you together, or—" Kai started.

"No," Jake and I said at the exact same time, a little too quickly.

The whole group exchanged a look.

"Right," Chloe said, drawing the word out slowly, clearly not buying it for a second. "Not together. Sure."

Sophia caught my eye across the circle, something warm and knowing in her expression, and didn't say another word about it… which somehow felt louder than if she had.

VISITORS!

Yunjin announced the trip with exactly zero warning, just like the way she announces most things.

"guess who booked flights to london for reading week," the group chat read, followed immediately by four separate boarding pass screenshots and a string of exclamation points that took up most of my screen.

"They're WHAT," Sophia said, reading over my shoulder.

"Apparently coming here. All four of them. Reading week."

"Oh, this is going to be incredible," Felix said, appearing in the doorway with the particular delight of someone who sensed chaos on the surface and wanted front row seats to. "I finally get to meet the infamous Sunghoon."

"Of course you do.. your literally a copy and paste of him."

"I've heard the skee-ball story four separate times and I need to witness the legend in person."

…

They landed on a gray Thursday afternoon, and the arrivals hall exploded the second Yunjin spotted me, dropping her carry on entirely to sprint the last twenty feet and nearly tackle me to the ground.

"WE'RE HERE," she screamed, loud enough that several nearby travelers turned to stare. "LONDON. WE MADE IT."

"You couldn't have texted ahead of time? Like, weeks ahead of time?"

"And ruin the surprise? Absolutely not."

Chaewon hugged me next, considerably calmer but no less delighted, followed by Sunghoon, who immediately declared the airport "smaller than he expected, honestly, kind of a letdown," and Heeseung, who took one look around and asked, with complete sincerity, "Is it always this cold, or did we just get unlucky?"

"It's London," I said. "It's always this cold."

Jake hung back slightly, watching the reunion with an expression somewhere between amusement and nerves, until Sunghoon spotted him over my shoulder.

"THERE he is," Sunghoon announced, abandoning his suitcase entirely to pull Jake into a hug that lifted him half off the ground. "London's own Charmer. We heard EVERYTHING."

"Everything?" Jake asked, shooting me a look.

"Sophia has a big mouth," Heeseung said cheerfully. "In the group chat. Constantly."

"I do not have a big mouth," Sophia said, entirely unbothered. "I have accurate and thorough reporting habits. Plus I helped plan this surprise so don't come for me"

…

We spent the next four days playing tour guide, dragging the four of them through every corner of the city Sophia and I had come to know, the market Chloe swore had the best pastries, the little pub near campus where Felix knew the bartender by name, the museum none of us had gotten around to visiting until Chaewon insisted.

It was strange and wonderful, watching our two worlds collide, Yunjin and Sophia bonding almost instantly over a shared, slightly alarming enthusiasm for claw machines they found in an arcade near the tube station, Sunghoon and Felix engaging in an argument about football so intense it nearly got them removed from a pub, Heeseung quietly charming every barista in a three block radius.

"Your friends are unhinged," Felix told me, watching Yunjin attempt to win a stuffed frog from a machine with the same single minded fury she'd once brought to a claw machine back home. "I love them."

"They have that effect on people."

On their second night, we ended up crowded into Jake and Felix's dorm room, takeout containers spread across every surface, the six of us, plus Sophia, Felix, and Chloe, who'd wandered in somewhere along the way, crammed together in a way that felt almost exactly like every bonfire and beach day from the summer before, just different location to a different continent entirely.

"Okay," Chaewon said, pointing a chopstick at me and Jake, who were sitting slightly closer together than strictly necessary on the edge of the bed. "What is actually happening here. And don't say nothing, because Sophia already told me there was A Fight and A Party Where You Made Him Jealous On Purpose, and I need details."

"Sophia," I said.

"I report accurately," Sophia said again, entirely without shame. "It's a service, really."

I felt Jake tense slightly beside me, the old careful distance threatening to creep back in for just a second, and something in me… maybe emboldened by having my oldest friends in the room, maybe just tired of committing… decided to just say it.

"We're figuring it out," I said. "Slowly. There's history. Bad history. We're working through it."

"Define working through it," Sunghoon said, entirely too interested.

"Sunghoon."

"What? I'm invested. I've been invested since the ping pong table two summers ago."

Jake let out a quiet laugh beside me, something easing in his shoulders. "It's complicated."

"Everything with you two is complicated," Yunjin said, not unkindly. "It has been since we were seventeen. Frankly it's exhausting watching it from the outside. I can't imagine what it's like living it."

"It's exhausting," I agreed. "From the inside too."

…

The visit ended too fast, the way visits always did. At the airport, saying goodbye for the second time in as many months, Yunjin pulled me aside while the others were distracted saying their own goodbyes.

"I like watching you here," she said quietly. "You seem different. Lighter."

"Good different?"

"The best different." She squeezed my hand. "Whatever's happening with Jake… don't let it slip through your fingers again because you're scared. You've been given a second chance most people don't get. Don't waste it being stubborn."

"When did you get so wise?"

"I've always been wise. You've just been too busy denying to notice."

I laughed, pulling her into one last hug before she had to go, her words settling somewhere deep in my chest, refusing to leave even after their plane had disappeared into the gray London sky.

Jake found me still standing at the window, watching the runway, lost in thought.

"You okay?" he asked, coming to stand beside me.

"Yeah." I leaned into him slightly, the motion easier than it had been even a week ago. "Yunjin just said something that's stuck with me, is all."

"What'd she say?"

I looked up at him, something resolving in my chest that had been sitting unfinished for over a year. "That I shouldn't waste a second chance being stubborn."

Something in his expression shifted, careful hope flickering across his face. "Do you think you're wasting it?"

"I think," I said slowly, "I've been trying very hard not to. And I'm failing. A lot."

"So have I," he admitted. "For what it's worth."

We stood there a while longer, watching planes take off into a sky the color of unfinished business, both of us thinking, I suspected, about exactly the same unresolved thing.

WEEK 6

I wasn't proud of it. I want that on record.

But when James asked if I wanted to get dinner Friday night, something petty and reckless in me said yes before I'd fully thought it through.

"You're doing this on purpose," Sophia said, watching me get ready, an amused, knowing look on her face.

"Doing what?"

"You know exactly what shirt you picked. You know exactly whose door you have to walk past to leave this room."

"It's just dinner."

"Sure."

I ran into Jake in the hallway exactly on schedule, right as James knocked on my door to pick me up. I watched Jake's expression shift in real time… surprise, then something darker, something he tried very hard to smooth over into indifference.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, voice carefully even.

"Dinner. With James."

"Have fun," he said, in a tone that suggested he meant the exact opposite.

I told myself I felt nothing watching his jaw tighten.

I told myself a lot of things that night.

…

Dinner with James was fine. Pleasant, even… he was funny, easy to talk to, genuinely interested in what I had to say. He was, by every reasonable measure, exactly the kind of distraction I should've wanted.

I spent half the meal thinking about someone else entirely though…

Somewhere between the appetizer and the main course, James asked about London, about my program, about whether I had a boyfriend back home… a question that shouldn't have made my chest tighten the way it did.

"No boyfriend," I said. "Just... complicated history. With someone."

"Ah." James smiled, unbothered. "The neighbor? Jake?"

I blinked. "How did you know about Jake?"

"Sophia may have mentioned something at the party. Also," he added, gesturing vaguely, "you've checked your phone four times in the last ten minutes like you're expecting a text from someone who isn't me."

I set my phone down, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's not exactly a secret how you feel. You're wearing it pretty openly, honestly."

I didn't have a response for that.

…

When James walked me back to the dorm and lingered a beat too long at my door, clearly angling for something more, I found myself stepping back before I'd even consciously decided to.

"I had a good time," I said. "But I don't think I'm looking for anything right now. I'm sorry."

He took it well, all things considered, offering a sorry smile before heading back down the hallway.

I turned toward my door and nearly walked straight into Jake, who was standing in his doorway with his arms crossed, clearly having heard every word.

"Were you listening?" I asked, mortified.

"The walls are thin."

"Jake."

"I wasn't trying to," he said, though the look on his face suggested he wasn't exactly sorry either. "I just happened to be standing here when you happened to reject him three feet from my door."

"Don't sound so pleased about it."

"I'm not pleased." A pause. "Okay. Maybe slightly pleased."

Something reckless rushed up in me, a whole summer and a whole year of unsaid things pressing against the back of my teeth. "Why do you even care, Jake?"

"You know why."

"I don't, actually. Because you've had a year to say something. A whole summer of so many almost conversations that never actually finish. So why don't you just fucking say it! Whatever it is you keep almost saying and then swallowing back down every single damn time!"

"Maybe I'm scared of what happens after I say it," he shot back, frustration finally cracking through the careful surface he usually kept so tightly controlled. "Maybe every time I open my mouth to say it, some part of me remembers exactly how badly it went the last time I let myself want something with you!"

"That's not fair. You don't get to hold that over both of us forever."

"I'm not holding anything over anyone. I'm being honest, which is apparently a completely foreign concept between the two of us!"

"You want honest!?" My voice rose, months of restraint finally giving way. "Fine. I've tried to make you jealous on purpose. James. Every guy I've talked to at every party since we got here. I knew you'd see us leave together tonight. I wanted you to feel exactly what I've been feeling for the last year, watching you exist near me and not being able to do anything about it."

Something shifted in his eyes… surprise, and underneath it, something hungrier.

"It worked," he said quietly.

"I know."

"Do you have any idea," he continued, voice low and rough, stepping closer, "what it's been like, living across the hall from you for six weeks? Watching you laugh at James's jokes. Watching you make yourself unreachable on purpose, every single day, when all I want—"

"What do you want, Jake?"

"You. I want you. I've wanted you since we were seventeen and I was too stupid to say it before everything fell apart. I want you so much it's genuinely inconvenient, and I'm tired… I'm so tired, of pretending otherwise just because I'm scared."

We were standing too close now, the hallway narrow enough that there was barely any space left between us, the tension of an entire summer…an entire year, stressed and trembling. 

“And you know that,” he growled low and dangerous in his throat, stepping so close that his chest brushed against mine with every breath. One of his hands came up, slamming flat against the wall beside my head, effectively caging me in without quite touching me yet. His familiar scent… clean cologne, wrapped around me, making my head spin and knees feel weak.

“I don’t, actually,” I shot back, even as undeniable heat began to pool low in my belly despite defiance. “Because you’ve had a whole year—”

“Jake—”

The second his name left my lips, soft and breathless, he cut me off completely.

Jake surged forward without warning, crashing his mouth against mine in a fierce, possessive kiss that stole the rest of my sentence and every coherent thought in my head. It was all teeth and tongue, desperate and claiming, filled with every ounce of frustration, longing, and jealousy that had been simmering between us for far too long. His free hand gripped my waist hard, fingers digging into the fabric of my top as he yanked me flush against his body. I gasped sharply into the kiss, my hands flying up to clutch desperately at the front of his shirt. Shyness flooded me at first, my fingers trembled slightly against the cotton, but the raw intensity of his kiss quickly melted my hesitation. I kissed him back, tentative at first, then with growing hunger, matching his desperation.

When he finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead pressed tightly to mine, both of us panting heavily, his voice came out rough and gravelly with need. “Say it again. My name. Like you fucking mean it this time.”

“J-Jake…” It came out shy, needy, almost a plea, my cheeks burning hot with embarrassment and arousal.

That single word was all the permission he needed.

He kissed me again, even deeper and more demanding this time, his tongue sweeping in to claim every inch of my mouth as he walked me backward through his open door without ever breaking contact. The moment we were fully inside the room, he kicked the door shut behind us with his foot. The lock clicked into place with finality. Felix was out for the night. No interruptions. No escape. His hands were already moving with urgent hunger, sliding under the hem of my top, his palms scorching hot against the smooth bare skin of my waist as he shoved the fabric upward inch by torturous inch, savoring every new strip of skin he revealed like he had been starving for it.

“That party, I was watching you all damn night,” he murmured hotly against my lips between kisses, then trailed open-mouthed kisses down my jaw to the sensitive side of my neck. His teeth grazed my pulse point before sucking hard, determined to leave a visible mark that would linger for days. “Laughing with him. Letting him stand so close to what’s mine. You knew exactly what you were doing to me the entire time, didn’t you, princess?”

I shivered violently, a soft, needy whimper escaping my throat despite myself. “I was mad… I wanted you to feel it the way I did—”

“Yeah?” His fingers found the clasp of my bra beneath the bunched-up top and undid it with a quick, expert twist. He yanked the top up and over my head in one rough motion, tossing it carelessly across the room. The bra straps slid down my arms and joined the top on the floor. His dark, hungry eyes raked slowly over my now exposed breasts, drinking in the sight. “Well, I felt every fucking second of it. Now you’re going to feel exactly what that does to me.”

Before I could feel too exposed or let shyness take over, his large, veiny hands cupped my breasts fully, thumbs brushing firmly over my nipples until they hardened tightly under his touch. I arched into his palms with a gasp. Jake bent his head immediately, capturing one sensitive nipple between his lips. He sucked hard, his tongue swirling and flicking relentlessly while his fingers pinched and rolled the other nipple with just the right pressure. The combination of wet heat and sharp pleasure-pain drew loud, involuntary moans from deep in my throat.

He spent his time giving attention on my chest… switching sides, sucking deeply on one nipple while pinching the other, grazing both with his teeth, then soothing the sting with broad, wet licks… until both peaks were swollen, red, glistening, and incredibly sensitive. “These perfect tits are mine,” he growled against my skin, voice vibrating through me. “Only mine to touch like this. Only mine to mark up.”

Jake… oh god…”

His mouth continued its relentless journey downward, kissing and sucking fresh marks along my ribs and soft stomach. He dropped to his knees in front of me, shoving my jeans and panties down my legs in one rough, impatient tug. He helped me step out of the pooled fabric, his hands running possessively up the backs of my thighs. Then he looked up at me with completely blown pupils, eyes dark with lust. “Get on the bed. Legs spread wide for me. Now.”

I sat back on the edge of the mattress, instinctively trying to close my thighs out of lingering shyness. Jake’s strong hands gripped my thighs firmly, spreading them apart and holding them open. “Don’t hide from me. I’ve waited too long for this,” he warned. He started with slow, deliberate kisses along the inside of one thigh, then the other, sucking dark hickeys into the soft skin, marking me thoroughly. His tongue traced higher, teasing the crease where thigh met core, breathing hotly against my dripping center.

Finally, his mouth reached my pussy. He gave me one long, slow lick from entrance to clit, savoring my taste with a deep groan. “So fucking wet already. This pretty pussy is dripping for me after you spent all night teasing me.” He dove in fully… his tongue lapping at my folds, circling my swollen clit with firm, precise strokes, then sucking the sensitive bud between his lips while two thick fingers pushed deep inside me, curling instantly to stroke that perfect spongy spot.

“Good girl… such a good fucking girl.”

"J-jake fuck-" I gasped.

“That’s it, say my name.” My head fell back, my fingers threading tightly into his hair as loud moans spilled from my lips. Jake ate me out with single-minded, ravenous intensity… alternating between rapid flicks on my clit, long broad licks through my folds, and deep thrusting of his fingers. He added a third finger, stretching me open while his tongue worked my clit relentlessly. The obscene wet sounds of his mouth and fingers filled the room, mixing with my increasingly desperate whimpers and moans.

“Come on my tongue, princess,” he commanded, voice muffled but dominant against my flesh. “Let me taste how much you need me after making me watch you with him all night.”

The orgasm crashed over me violently. I cried out his name loudly, my thighs shaking and clamping around his head as waves of intense pleasure ripped through my body. Jake licked me through every single spasm, greedy and thorough, drinking down every drop of my release without mercy.

“So tight… gripping my fingers so perfectly. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” But he still wasn’t satisfied. He rose to his feet, wiping his glistening mouth and chin with the back of his hand, his eyes completely feral. In quick, efficient movements he stripped off his shirt, revealing the lean, toned chest and abs I had tried so hard not to stare at all semester. His jeans and boxers followed, kicked aside. His thick, hard cock sprang free, heavy and leaking at the tip. My eyes widened, a fresh rush of shy heat flooding my face and chest.

Jake climbed over me, caging my body completely with his. He pinned my wrists above my head with one large hand. “Eyes on me the entire time,” he ordered. He teased my slick entrance with the blunt head of his cock, rubbing it against my swollen clit, then thrust in deep in one powerful stroke, burying himself to the hilt.

The pace he set was brutal, hard, deep, punishing thrusts that made the bed creak loudly. Skin slapped loudly against skin with every snap of his hips. He kept my wrists pinned while leaning down to suck and bite at my sensitive nipples again, never slowing his relentless rhythm. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he growled between powerful thrusts. “Me fucking you raw because you made me so fucking jealous tonight?”

“Yes—Jake—harder—please—” I begged, voice breaking.

“You like it rough like this? Like when I fuck you deep and hard? Tell me.”

“I love it—Jake—please—”

“That’s right, beg for it,” he groaned, snapping his hips harder, driving into me with long, punishing strokes. “You feel so fucking good squeezing my cock like this. So wet and tight after teasing me all night. This pussy knows exactly who it belongs to.” He released my wrists to grip my hips with both hands, angling me perfectly as he pounded deeper. The head of his cock dragged against my g-spot with every thrust, sending sparks of pleasure through my body.

He leaned down again, sucking hard on one nipple while thrusting relentlessly. “Look at you taking every inch. So pretty when you’re getting fucked like this. No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”

"J-jake fuck so fast" 

"Yeah too bad huh…ass up higher for me princess.”

He flipped me onto my hands and knees without pulling out, then renters me from behind with a deep groan. One hand fisted in my hair, tugging my head back gently but firmly, while the other slapped my ass lightly before reaching around to rub my clit in tight, fast circles. He pounded into me relentlessly, hitting deep with every thrust. “Feel how deep I am, princess? Take it. Take every fucking inch like the good girl you are. So pretty when you’re getting fucked like this.”

Another shattering orgasm tore through me. I cried out, clenching hard around him as my body shook. Jake followed moments later, spilling hot and deep inside me with a guttural groan of my name. “Fuck—take it all… that’s it.”

Even then, his hunger hadn’t faded. He pulled out carefully, flipped me onto my back again, and buried his face between my legs once more. This time he licked and sucked messily at our combined release, tasting both of us while his fingers worked my oversensitive clit and curled inside me. “You taste so fucking good like this… full of me,” he groaned. He brought me to a third, shaking orgasm on his tongue and fingers.

Only after that did he slide back inside me for a final, still possessive round. He kissed me deeply, tongue tangling with mine as he fucked me with slower but still deep, claiming strokes. “I love how you feel around me… so warm and tight. You’re going to be sore tomorrow and every time you feel it you’re going to remember exactly who fucked you this good.” He whispered filthy praises against my ear until we came together once more, completely spent.

Afterward, he gathered my trembling body into his arms, stroking my hair and back with surprisingly tender hands. “You’re mine,” he whispered against my temple. “No more games. No more running. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” I whispered back, shy but utterly satisfied, curling into his chest.

WEEK 7

I woke up before he did, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling of his dorm room, the weight of what had happened settling over me slowly, thickly, like fog rolling in off the river.

I didn't regret it. That surprised me most of all.

But I also didn't know what to do with the terrifying deepness of it, the way it had cracked something open in me that I wasn't sure I knew how to close back up.

I left before he woke up…

I wasn't proud of that either.

…

Sophia found me an hour later, curled up on my bed, staring at nothing, and took one look at my face before closing the door behind her.

"Okay," she said, sitting down across from me. "Talk."

So I told her. All of it… the fight, the confession, the years of unsaid things finally spilling over all at once, and what happened after…

"And you left," Sophia said slowly, "before he woke up."

"I panicked!"

"Why?"

"Because it meant something," I admitted. "It meant more than I was ready for it to mean, and I didn't know how to face that in the daylight."

Sophia was quiet for a moment, studying me with a gentleness that made my throat tight. "Y/N. You can't keep running every time something actually matters."

"I know."

"So what are you going to do?"

I didn't have an answer for that. Not yet.

"For what it's worth," Sophia added, softer now, "I don't think there's anything wrong with being scared. I think there's something wrong with letting that scared make all your decisions for you. There's a difference."

I thought about that for a long time after she left the room.

…

Across the hall, Jake was having a similar conversation, though I wouldn't find out about it until much later.

"She was gone when I woke up," Jake told Felix, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the space on his sheets where I'd been.

"And you're surprised by this because...?"

"Because I thought—" He stopped, frustrated. "I thought it meant we were finally past the running part."

Felix sat down beside him, uncharacteristically serious. "Maybe it wasn't running from you. Maybe it was running from how much it mattered to her."

"That's not better, Felix."

"No," Felix agreed. "But it's not just nothing, either."

Jake rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know what to do. I said everything last night. Everything I've been sitting on for a year. And she still left."

"Did you mean it? Everything you said?"

"Every word."

"Then you don't take it back," Felix said simply. "You wait. And when she's ready to stop running, you make sure she knows the door's still open. That's it. That's the whole plan."

"Since when did you get so wise about relationships?"

"I've been taking very thorough notes on your disaster of a love life for six weeks. It was bound to teach me something eventually."

…

We didn't talk for four days.

Four days of passing in the hallway with careful, this aching politeness. Four days of neither of us knowing how to carry the distance we'd built in the space of just a single terrified morning.

On the third day, we nearly broke.

I'd gone down to the shared kitchen late, well past midnight, assuming… correctly, usually, that no one else would be awake to witness whatever sad, microwaved dinner I was about to make for myself. I hadn't accounted for Jake having the exact same idea.

We both froze in the doorway.

"Oh," I said. "Sorry. I can come back."

"You don't have to leave." His voice was quiet, careful, like he was afraid one wrong word would send me straight back out the door. "There's plenty of kitchen for both of us."

I hesitated, then stepped inside anyway, keeping a careful few feet of distance as I pulled a container of leftovers from the fridge.

The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable in a way it hadn't been in weeks. I could feel him watching me, could feel the exact shape of everything neither of us was saying pressing against the edges of the small kitchen.

"I'm not angry at you," I said eventually, staring resolutely at the microwave timer instead of at him. "In case that's what you think this is."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know how to be near you without it meaning something," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "And I don't know how to let it mean something without being terrified of what happens if it falls apart again."

Jake set down the mug he'd been holding, taking a slow step closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him even without touching. "It's not going to fall apart because of anything you did that morning. I need you to know that. I'm not upset you left. I'm upset we're still circling this instead of just… being honest about what we actually want."

"What do you want?" I asked quietly, echoing a question I'd asked before, in a different hallway, a different context, but somehow it felt like the exact same question all over again.

"You already know the answer."

"I want to hear you say it."

Something in his expression cracked, raw and unguarded. "I want you. Not just the version of you that's easy and uncomplicated. All of it… the running, the jealousy, the year we lost, the stubbornness. I want to actually try, for real, without either of us finding a reason to bolt the second it gets scary."

The microwave beeped, loud and jarring, breaking whatever fragile thing had been building between us. I jumped, the moment fracturing instantly.

"I should—" I gestured vaguely at my food, unable to finish the sentence.

"Yeah," Jake said, stepping back, disappointment flickering across his face before he tucked it carefully away, the way he always did. "Yeah, of course."

I left the kitchen without eating, my food forgotten on the counter, my heart pounding the entire walk back to my room.

It would take one more day, and one very direct intervention from Felix, before either of us actually managed to finish that conversation.

…

It was Felix, in the end, who forced the issue, cornering me outside the dorm building with the particular bluntness of someone who'd apparently had enough.

"He's miserable," Felix said without preamble. "In case you were wondering."

"I wasn't asking."

"I know. I'm telling you anyway." He crossed his arms, uncharacteristically serious. "Look, I don't know everything that happened between you two. I know enough. And I know he's spent the last four days pretending he's fine while very obviously not being fine, and I'm tired of watching it."

"It's complicated, Felix."

"Everything worth having usually is." He softened slightly. "For what it's worth… I've known him for a bit, and I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Not even close. He talks about you like you're already the best decision he's ever made, even when he's terrified you're going to walk away again."

I didn't have anything to say to that.

But I thought about it for the rest of the day.

That evening, I found a piece of paper slid halfway under my door… Jake's handwriting, familiar even after all this time, three words and nothing else.

I'm not leaving.

I held onto it longer than I probably should have, sitting on the edge of my bed, reading it over and over until the words stopped looking like words and started looking like a promise.

WEEK 8

I knocked.

Felix opened the door, like he was heading out.

"Oh your here…?"

"Wanted to talk to him…"

"Well, I'm heading out, so the space is yours. He's right over there… hasn't really moved," pointing at him before leaving.

I found him on the fire escape again, the same one from the party weeks earlier, staring out at a skyline that had started, slowly, to feel a little like home.

"Hey," I said, climbing out through the window.

He turned, surprise flickering across his face before he changed it into something more careful. "Hey."

"Can we talk? Actually talk. Not the almost kind."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I think we're overdue."

I sat down beside him, close enough that our shoulders almost touched, the cool night air settling around us.

"I got your note," I said.

"I wasn't sure you'd even read it."

"I read it about fifty times, if I'm being honest."

A small, relieved smile tugged at his mouth. "Good. I meant every word of it."

"I left because I was scared," I said, before I could talk myself out of it. "Not because it didn't matter. Because it mattered too much, and I didn't know what to do with that."

Jake let out a slow breath. "I thought I'd done something wrong again."

"You didn't. It was me. It's always been me, running the second things get real."

"So what do we do now?" he asked, voice careful, like he was scared of the answer.

"I don't want to keep running," I said. "I'm tired of it. I'm tired of pretending I don't feel what I feel, or making you jealous to prove a point, or leaving before things get too honest."

"What do you feel?" he asked quietly.

I looked at him… really looked, the way I'd been too scared to for over a year, and let myself say it.

"I've loved you for longer than I've been willing to admit. Probably longer than either of us wants to do the math on."

Something in his face broke open, raw and unguarded in a way I hadn't seen since that night at the lookout point, right before Sunghoon interrupted us.

"I love you too," he said. "I think I have for years. I just didn't know how to say it without it costing me everything."

"So say it now," I said softly. "No one's going to interrupt this time."

"I love you, Y/N. I don't want distance. I don't want almosts. I want to actually try, for real, no running, no pretending. I want to know what we are."

"What do you want us to be?"

"Yours," he said simply. "If you'll have me."

The honesty of it undid something in me completely.

"Yeah," I whispered. "Yeah, I'll have you."

He reached for me then, slow and certain in a way that felt entirely different from the desperate collision of the week before, like this time, there was nothing left to rush toward, nothing left unsaid standing between us.

He kissed me right there on the fire escape… slow and deep, like he was pouring every unsaid promise, every sleepless night, and every hidden longing into it. His lips moved against mine with aching tenderness at first, savoring the softness, the taste of me. Then hunger grew as I parted for him. Our tongues slid together unhurriedly, exploring, relearning. One of his hands slid into my hair, cradling the back of my head, while the other rested possessively at the small of my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between our bodies. The cool night air raised goosebumps on my arms, but his warmth chased them away.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing harder, chests rising and falling in sync, Jake rested his forehead against mine. His breath mingled with mine in the small space between us. “Inside. Now. I need to feel all of you. I need to show you what you mean to me.”

He helped me climb back through the window first, steadying me with gentle hands on my waist, then followed, closing it behind us with a soft click. The dorm room was dimly lit by the city glow passing through the thin curtains, golden streetlights and the occasional flash of headlights painting soft patterns across the walls. Jake pulled me into his arms again the second his feet hit the floor, kissing me like he couldn’t bear even a second of separation. His hands roamed my back, learning the curve of my spine as if it were the first time.

“Let me undress you properly this time,” he murmured against my lips, voice low and reverent. “I want to memorize every inch of you tonight. No rushing. No fear. Just us.”

His fingers found the hem of my shirt. He didn’t rush. Instead, he slowly dragged it upward, palms skimming over my ribs and the sides of my breasts as the fabric lifted, leaving trails of fire on my skin. He paused halfway to press open mouthed kisses along the newly exposed skin, soft, lingering presses to my stomach that made my muscles flutter, teasing kisses to the underside of my breasts, and gentle sucks along my collarbones that drew quiet sighs from me. When the shirt finally cleared my head, he tossed it aside gently and just looked at me for a long moment, eyes tracing every curve like he was committing me to memory.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, the words heavy with awe. His hands cupped my breasts through my bra, thumbs circling my nipples in slow, deliberate strokes until they tightened visibly against the lace. “I’ve dreamed about touching you like this for so long. Not rushed. Not scared. Just… us. You and me, finally honest.”

I shivered under his gaze. “Your turn. I want to feel you too. All of you.”

Jake helped me pull his shirt off, revealing the familiar planes of his chest. I ran my hands over his warm skin, tracing every ridge. He groaned softly. “You have no idea what your hands do to me.”

He reached behind me, unclasping my bra with steady fingers. The straps slid down my shoulders, and he peeled it away slowly. “Perfect,” he whispered. He bent his head, taking one nipple into his mouth with gentle suction. His tongue swirled around the peak, then flicked it lightly before he sucked harder, drawing a soft moan from my throat. The wet heat of his mouth sent sparks straight to my core.

“Jake…” My fingers threaded through his hair, holding him to my chest.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, licking, sucking, gently grazing with his teeth while his hand kneaded the one he’d just left. “I love how you sound when I do this,” he murmured against my flushed skin. “Love how responsive you are for me. How your body lights up under my hands. My girl. Always has been. These pretty nipples get so hard for me… fuck, I could spend hours just on your tits.”

Clothes continued to disappear slowly. He hooked his fingers into my pants and panties, sliding them down my legs inch by inch, dropping kisses along the way, my hips, the tops of my thighs, the sensitive crease where my leg met my body. He lingered there, breathing me in, pressing reverent kisses to the soft skin. “So beautiful here,” he whispered, nipping gently at my inner thigh. “I love marking you so everyone knows you’re taken.”

When I stepped out of the fabric, he looked up at me from his knees with such open adoration that it stole my breath.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he said quietly, voice thick. “Everything I need. Let me show you.”

Then he stood, shedding the rest of his own clothes until he was bare before me, hard, flushed, cock heavy and curving upward. I drank him in, heat pooling low in my belly.

Jake guided me onto the bed, laying me down like I was something precious. He settled between my thighs but didn’t rush. Instead, he kissed his way down my body, pausing again at my breasts, sucking and licking my nipples until they were swollen and aching, whispering, “I love how they fit in my hands… love how you moan when I suck them like this,” before moving lower.

When he reached the top of my thighs, he spread my legs wider with gentle hands. “Let me taste you,” he requested, voice husky with need. “I want to make you feel good first. I want to hear you fall apart for me. I’ve missed you so much.”

His mouth descended slowly. A long, broad lick from entrance to clit, savoring me. “You taste so fucking good,” he praised, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Sweet and wet… all for me.” Then focused swirling attention on my clit. Two fingers slid inside me easily, curling while his tongue worked me with patient, rhythmic strokes, circles, flicks, gentle suction. “You taste so good,” he praised between licks, pumping his fingers steadily. “So wet and sweet for me. I could stay here all night, just listening to you moan my name. Tell me how it feels, baby.”

“So good… Jake, your tongue—ah—” I gasped, hips rolling against his face.

He hummed in approval, adding a third finger to stretch me deliciously while murmuring endless praise against my folds. “That’s it, baby. Ride my face. Let go for me. I’ve got you. I love you so much. Love feeling you clench around my fingers like this.”

The pleasure built gradually, deep and rolling. Jake took his time, alternating between gentle suction and broad, flat licks, scissoring his fingers while sucking my clit. “Come for me, princess. Let me taste you coming on my tongue. I need it.”

I came with a soft, shuddering cry of his name, thighs trembling around his head as pleasure rolled through me in long, powerful waves. Jake worked me through every aftershock, slowing his movements but not stopping until I was gently pushing at his shoulders, oversensitive and glowing.

He kissed his way back up my body, settling over me. His cock rested hot and heavy against my thigh, leaving a smear of precum. “Look at me,” he whispered, cupping my face with both hands. Our eyes locked, deep and unwavering, as he positioned himself at my entrance. “I love you, Y/N. This is us now. No more distance. No more walls.”

“I love you too,” I breathed, wrapping my legs around his waist, heels pressing into his lower back. “All of me, yours.”

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, until he was buried all the way in. Both of us groaned at the feeling, tight, perfect, intimate. The stretch was perfect, filling me completely. Jake stayed still for a long moment, forehead pressed to mine, just savoring the connection, our breaths mingling.

“You feel like home,” he said softly, beginning to move in slow, deep rolls of his hips. Every thrust was deliberate, grinding against me with each downward stroke so my clit received constant friction. “So tight… so warm… made for me. Like you were always meant to be right here, wrapped around my cock.”

Our bodies moved together in perfect sync. Jake’s hands explored everywhere, caressing my sides, cupping my breasts again to tease my sensitive nipples while he thrust, rolling them gently between his fingers. He leaned down to kiss me deeply, swallowing my moans as the pace gradually built, still loving and controlled.

“Tell me how it feels,” he urged, voice strained with pleasure but still in control, eyes never leaving mine. “Talk to me, baby. I need to hear you.”

“So full… so good, Jake. I love feeling you inside me like this. Deep. Like you’re part of me,” I gasped.

He groaned, hips snapping a little harder but still measured. “Good girl. I love being inside you. Love hearing you say my name while I’m fucking you slow and deep. Love the way you clench around me when I hit that spot right… there.”

The emotional intensity mixed with the physical pleasure until tears pricked my eyes again. Jake noticed immediately, kissing the tears away tenderly, slowing his thrusts to a gentle rock. “I’ve got you,” he promised, voice breaking with emotion. “I’m right here. Not going anywhere. Never again. You’re safe with me. I love you so fucking much.”

He shifted slightly, changing the angle so he hit that perfect spot inside me with every thrust. One hand slipped between us, fingers circling my clit in time with his movements, firm, steady pressure. “Come for me again, baby. Let me feel you. I want to feel you come while I’m buried so deep inside you.”

I came again with a broken moan, clenching tightly around him, waves of pleasure pulling me under as I gasped his name like a prayer. The feeling of me pulsing around him pulled Jake over the edge right after me, he buried himself as deep as possible, groaning my name long and low as he spilled inside me in long, powerful pulses, filling me with warmth.

We stayed joined for a long time afterward, trading soft kisses and whispered “I love you”s between breaths. Jake eventually pulled out gently, both of us hissing at the sensitivity. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a warm, damp cloth to clean us both with careful, loving strokes. Then he pulled me into his arms under the covers, tucking my head against his chest.

“I’m never letting fear get between us again,” he murmured against my hair, one hand stroking soothing patterns down my back. “You’re my future, Y/N. Whatever comes after London… graduation, jobs, whatever life throws at us… we face it together. No more running.”

She snuggled deeper into his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. “Together. Always.”

WEEK 8 ½

Unlike the first time, I didn't leave before he woke up.

I lay there instead, watching gray London light creep slowly across the ceiling, Jake's arm heavy and warm around my waist, and let myself feel it fully… the terrifying, wonderful weight of staying instead of running.

"You're still here," he murmured eventually, voice thick with sleep, surprise and relief tangled together in his tone.

"I'm still here."

He propped himself up on one elbow, studying my face like he was trying to memorize it. "How does it feel?"

"Terrifying," I admitted. "In a good way. Is that a contradiction?"

"Only a little." He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, the gesture so soft it made my chest ache. "For what it's worth, I've been terrified in a good way for about two months now. You get used to it eventually."

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?"

"A little bit, yeah."

I laughed, pulling him back down beside me, in no hurry at all to let the morning end. Outside, the city was slowly waking up, the sound of traffic and distant voices filtering faintly through the window, but inside that small room, time felt entirely suspended… no rush, no fear, no reason at all to be anywhere else.

"I keep thinking about all the time we wasted," I admitted quietly. "The year. The silence. Everything we could've had if we'd just been honest sooner."

"Don't do that," Jake said gently, tightening his arm around me. "Don't spend the good part mourning the part that's already over. We're here now. That's what actually matters."

"When did you get so wise?"

"I've had a lot of time to think, apparently. Mostly about you."

"That's embarrassingly sweet."

"I contain a lot," he said again, and I laughed against his shoulder, feeling, for the first time in over a year, like the future ahead of us was something worth being excited about instead of something to brace against.

We stayed in bed far longer than either of us should have, skipping the first lecture of the day entirely, wrapped up in each other and the quiet, unhurried certainty that neither of us was going anywhere.

WEEK 9

News, it turned out, traveled fast in a dorm with paper thin walls.

"So," Sophia said the next morning, eyeing me over her cereal with the barely restrained energy of someone who already knew but wanted to hear it officially. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"We're together," I said, unable to fight the smile spreading across my face. "Officially. For real this time."

Sophia's spoon clattered against her bowl as she shot up, pulling me into a hug so enthusiastic I nearly spilled my own breakfast. "FINALLY. Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this? I've been managing two separate emotional crises simultaneously for two months."

"I'm sorry for the emotional labor."

"You should be. I want a full recount. Everything. Don't skip a single detail."

Across the hall, a similar conversation was unfolding, though considerably louder.

"YES," Felix's voice boomed through the wall, loud enough that Sophia and I both dissolved into laughter. "FINALLY. Do you understand how long I have had to listen to you sigh dramatically at that girl's door? MONTHS, Jake. Actual months of suffering."

"You've only seen me for two months total, Felix."

"It FELT like months. Emotional months. Time is relative."

…

Word spread through our small circle of friends quickly after that, Chloe sending an enthusiastic string of exclamation points in the group chat, Kai responding with a single dry "called it," James, when I ran into him at the coffee shop a few days later, offering a genuinely gracious smile and a "good for you, honestly" that eased whatever awkwardness might have lingered.

Back home, the reaction was even louder.

Yunjin's video call came through so fast after Sophia… apparently under strict instructions from me… leaked the news that I barely had time to answer before Yunjin's face filled the screen, Chaewon crowding in beside her.

"IS IT TRUE," Yunjin shrieked, loud enough that I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

"Define 'it,'" I said, biting back a smile.

"DON'T YOU DARE. Sophia texted me. You and Jake. TOGETHER together."

"...Yes."

The scream that followed was loud enough that Sophia, in the other room, yelled "TOLD YOU" without even looking up from her book.

"I cannot believe," Chaewon said, once the screaming had died down to something resembling normal volume, "that it took an entire ocean and two months of you two being insufferably obvious for this to actually happen."

"We were being obvious?"

"Y/N. You two used to stare at each other across a bonfire like it was a fucking slow-mo Kdrama scene. Yes. Obvious."

I laughed, warmth spreading through my chest at the familiar chaos of their voices, at how easy it felt now to say his name out loud without flinching.

"We're happy for you," Yunjin said, softer now, all the teasing falling away for just a second. "Both of you. You deserve this. After everything."

"Thank you," I said, and meant it more than I could properly put into words.

WEEK 9 ½ 

Being together didn't mean the arguing stopped. If anything, it just changed shape… less about what we weren't saying, more about the ordinary, stupid things couples actually fought about, which was, I discovered, a strange kind of relief. At least this time the fighting didn't come with a year of silence attached.

It started, as these things often did, with something small.

"You didn't tell me you had a study group tonight," I said, standing in his doorway with my arms crossed, watching him grab his bag in a hurry.

"I forgot. I'm sorry. It came up last minute."

"You've had it planned for a week, Jake. Felix mentioned it three days ago."

He paused, guilt flickering across his face. "Okay, that's fair. I should've said something."

"We had plans tonight."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise, I just… this project's worth thirty percent of my grade and I genuinely forgot to tell you, it wasn't on purpose."

"It's not really about the study group," I admitted, some of the frustration draining out of my voice. "It's that you keep doing this thing where you make a decision and then just... tell me after, instead of with me. Like I'm someone you're updating instead of someone you're actually including."

Jake set his bag down slowly, giving me his full attention in a way that eased something tight in my chest. "You're right. I'm sorry. Old habits, I think… I spent so long assuming I didn't get a say in what you wanted, or what we were, that I think some part of me is still operating like I have to just... work around you instead of with you."

"That's not what this is anymore."

"I know. I'm working on it." He reached for my hand, thumb brushing gently over my knuckles. "Can I make you an offer? Skip the first hour of study group, take you to that dumpling place you keep talking about, then go back after?"

"You'd fail your project for dumplings?"

"I'd fail a lot of things for dumplings, if we're being honest. But mostly I just don't want you thinking I take you for granted. Because I don't. I spent a year without you. I'm not interested in wasting a single night I actually get to have you."

Some of my remaining frustration melted despite my best efforts to hold onto it. "That's annoyingly effective."

"I've been told I have a gift."

"Felix told you that, didn't he."

"Felix tells me a lot of things. Most of them are lies. That one might be true."

…

We got the dumplings. He went back to study group an hour late, considerably more relaxed, and I spent the rest of the evening curled up with Sophia watching a show neither of us could really follow, thinking about how strange it was that even the fighting felt different now… lighter, solvable, the kind of disagreement that ended in dumplings instead of a year of silence.

"You two are going to be fine," Sophia said, referencing to nothing, halfway through an episode neither of us was paying attention to.

"You think?"

"I think you finally figured out how to actually talk to each other instead of just orbiting the same unspoken thing for years. That's the hard part. Everything else is just logistics."

I thought about that for a long time after she said it… how much of the last year, the last summer, even the years before that, had really just been two people too scared to say the thing that mattered, circling it instead, hoping the other person would say it first.

We'd stopped circling. That had to count for something.

WEEK 10

Being together, officially, unraveled something in both of us that neither of us had realized we'd been holding so tightly.

The banter didn't disappear… if anything, it got worse, sharper, more affectionate, Felix and Sophia rolling their eyes at us with increasing frequency as the semester went on.

"You two are unbearable now," Felix announced one evening, watching Jake steal food directly off my plate with the shameless confidence of someone who considered it a fully earned privilege.

"You're just jealous," Jake said.

"I am extremely jealous, yes."

"Get your own girl to steal fries from," I said, though I was smiling too hard for it to land as an actual complaint.

Sophia and Felix had become fast friends themselves over the course of the semester, bonding over the shared experience of watching two idiots dance around each other for two full months before finally getting it together.

"We should get credit," Sophia said. "For emotional labor."

"Absolutely," Felix agreed. "A whole semester of watching you two almost talk. I deserve a medal."

"You deserve nothing," Jake said. "You made it worse. Constantly. On purpose."

"I made it entertaining," Felix corrected. "There's a difference."

…

There were still hard conversations, even after. The kind that came with actually trying, actually staying, instead of running at the first sign of something real.

We talked, really talked, about that night at the beach house… all of it, every piece we'd left buried for a year. We talked about what happened after the semester ended.

"I keep thinking about what happens when the semester ends," I admitted one evening, sitting cross legged on his bed while rain dropped slow lines down the window. "We go back home. Back to everyone. It won't be just the two of us anymore."

"Does that scare you?"

"A little. I don't want this to be a London thing. Something that only makes sense here, in this bubble, and falls apart the second we're back in real life."

Jake reached over, threading his fingers through mine. "It's not going to fall apart. I've spent two months proving to myself I'm capable of not running from this. I'm not about to start the second we cross an ocean."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He pressed a kiss to my knuckles, something achingly sincere in the gesture. "Wherever we end up… here, home, somewhere we haven't even thought of yet… I want it to be with you. That's not a London thing. That's just a fact now."

"I don't want to lose this," I admitted. "Not again. Not for another year of pretending."

"You won't," Jake said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'm not letting you run this time. Even if you try."

"I'm not planning on it."

"Good. Because I've spent way too long almost telling you things. I'd like to spend the rest of it actually telling you things instead."

WEEK 10 ½

 It was Chloe who noticed it first, which meant, by the transitive property of our friend group, everyone knew within the hour.

"Have you two considered," Chloe said, watching Sophia and Felix bicker over whose turn it was to pick the movie for the fourth week running, "that you argue exactly like a couple who hasn't figured out they're a couple yet?"

"We are not a couple," Sophia said immediately.

"We're roommates' friends," Felix added, equally quick. "Adjacent. By association."

"Sure," Chloe said, in the exact same skeptical tone she'd used on me and Jake months earlier, clearly enjoying herself immensely. "Adjacent. By association. That's definitely what that was."

I exchanged a look with Jake, who was fighting visibly not to laugh.

"You two are being ridiculous," Sophia said, though the flush creeping up her neck suggested otherwise.

"We're being observant," Felix corrected.

"There's a difference," Sophia shot back, echoing, almost word for word, the exact argument Felix himself had used on me and Jake weeks earlier.

The whole room dissolved into laughter, Sophia and Felix both looking equal parts mortified and unconvincing in their denials.

…

Later that night, after everyone else had wandered off, I found Sophia sitting on her bed, hugging her knees, uncharacteristically quiet.

"You okay?" I asked, settling across from her.

"Do you think it's obvious? With Felix?"

I softened, recognizing the exact same nervous uncertainty I'd carried around for two entire months before finally saying anything to Jake. "A little. In the best way, though. He looks at you like you're the punchline to his favorite joke. It's very sweet, honestly."

Sophia groaned, dropping her face into her hands. "I didn't come to London to fall for my best friend's boyfriend's roommate. That feels like a very specific and unnecessary complication."

"Welcome to the club," I said, laughing. "It's a very exclusive, very exhausting club."

"Does it get easier? Saying something?"

I considered the question seriously, thinking back to the fire escape, the fight in the hallway, the note slid under my door, everything it had taken to finally get here. "Not easier, exactly. Just… worth it. Once you actually do it."

"That's very unhelpful advice."

"I never claimed to be good at this. I spent an entire year avoiding my own feelings. I'm hardly an expert."

Sophia laughed, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. "Fair enough. Maybe I'll just take a page from your book. Wait an excessive amount of time, panic, and eventually get cornered by a well meaning intervention."

"It worked for me."

"Barely."

"Barely," I agreed, grinning. "But it worked."

…

Whatever happened between Sophia and Felix after that stayed mostly their own business… quiet, careful, unfolding in the margins of everyone else's much louder story… but by the time reading week rolled back around, I noticed her sitting a little closer to him at dinner, noticed the easy way his hand found the small of her back when the group walked somewhere together, noticed the matching, slightly embarrassed smiles neither of them bothered denying anymore.

"Called it," Jake murmured to me one evening, watching them from across the room.

"You did not call it. Chloe called it."

"I called it internally. That still counts."

"It does not count."

"It counts a little."

I rolled my eyes, leaning into him anyway, grateful… endlessly, quietly grateful… for the strange, roundabout way London had given all of us exactly what we didn't know we were looking for.

WEEK 11

The semester wound down faster than either of us wanted, the city taking on a strange, bittersweet quality as move-out dates crept closer, boxes reappearing in hallways, goodbyes practiced in advance for people we weren't ready to say goodbye to yet.

Sophia and I spent our last free weekend doing all the things we'd kept meaning to do and never had time for, the museum we'd walked past a hundred times without going in, the little bakery near campus that Chloe swore had the best pastries in the city, one final wander along the river as the sun set gold over the water.

"I'm going to miss this," Sophia said, echoing Chaewon's words from a lifetime ago, back on a different continent entirely. "This exact version of things. You, me, this ridiculous dorm room."

"We'll see each other again."

"I know. It still feels big, though."

It did feel big. Standing there, watching the city lights start to flicker on across the water, I understood, maybe for the first time… exactly why Chaewon had said the same thing a year ago on a different coastline. Endings always felt enormous, even the good kind. Especially the good kind.

Felix organized one last gathering before everyone scattered back to their respective corners of the world… a rooftop, borrowed from a friend of a friend, string lights and takeout containers and someone's portable speaker playing music too quietly to really hear over all the talking.

"To London," Felix said, raising a paper cup like it was crystal. "And to whatever we all managed to figure out here."

"To London," everyone echoed.

Jake's hand found mine, fingers lacing together easily now, none of the hesitance that had defined the entire first half of the semester.

"To not running," he murmured, just for me.

"To not running," I agreed, and meant it with my whole chest.

HOME

The semester ended faster than either of us expected, the way good things always seem to.

We flew home together, this time… no separate flights, no unresolved silence hanging over an entire ocean. Just the two of us, hand in hand, walking off the plane into the familiar California sunlight.

The whole group was waiting at the airport, Yunjin practically tackling both of us at once, Chaewon screaming loud enough to draw looks from strangers, Sunghoon and Heeseung trading knowing glances the second they saw our hands linked together.

"FINALLY," Yunjin shouted. "Do you understand how long we've waited for this?"

"We called it in week two," Chaewon added smugly. "Week two, Y/N. We are never letting you live down how long this actually took."

Jake laughed, pulling me closer, pressing a kiss to my lips in front of all of them without an ounce of the hesitation that had defined the entire summer before.

"Worth the wait," he said, quiet enough that it was just for me.

I looked around at all of them… the friends who'd known us before any of this started, who'd watched an entire year of careful distance finally give way to something real… and let myself feel it fully, for the first time in over a year.

Not almost.

Not around.

Just, finally, together.

…

That night, back at Yunjin's house with the whole group crowded onto her back patio the way we always ended up whenever everyone was home at the same time, I sat curled against Jake's side, listening to Sunghoon recount some exaggerated story about a professor back at his own school, the fire pit crackling low between us, string lights strung overhead just like that very first bonfire two summers ago.

It felt, impossibly, like coming full circle.

"Remember the first bonfire?" I asked quietly, just for Jake, while the others laughed at something across the fire.

"The one where I splashed you in the ocean and you declared war on me for the rest of the afternoon?"

"That's the one."

"I remember thinking," he said, voice low, "that I'd never seen anyone look that annoyed and that pretty at the same time. It was very distracting."

"You hid it well."

"I had a lot of practice hiding things, apparently."

I laughed, leaning into him further, watching the fire throw shifting light across all the faces I loved most in the world. "I'm glad we're not hiding anymore."

"Me too." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and then my lips, quiet and certain. "I plan on making up for lost time. All of it." 

6 MONTHS LATER

The strange thing about coming home from somewhere that changed you was how normal everything else still looked. The same coffee shop on the corner. The same crack in the sidewalk outside my parents' house that I still forgot about every single time and nearly tripped over. The same string lights Yunjin… Yunjin insisted on draping over her back patio for every single gathering, rain or shine, season notwithstanding.

Only now, Jake's hand found mine without either of us thinking twice about it. Now, when the group scattered toward the water on lazy Sunday afternoons, he fell into step beside me without hesitation, without the careful distance that used to sit between us like something neither of us knew how to name.

"You're staring again," Jake said, nudging my shoulder with his as we sat on the porch steps one evening, watching Sunghoon attempt, badly, to teach Heeseung how to skip a rock across the pond behind Yunjin's house.

"I'm allowed to stare. You're my boyfriend. It's basically a contractual right."

"Is that in the paperwork? I don't remember signing anything."

"You signed it the second you slid that note under my door in London."

He laughed, low and warm, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Fair. I suppose I did."

We'd settled into something neither of us had quite dared to imagine a year ago… easy mornings, familiar arguments that resolved instead of festering, a whole future ahead of us that finally felt like something we were building together instead of something we were both too scared to reach for.

Sophia and Felix, somehow, had stayed close too… a group chat that never quite went quiet, video calls at odd hours across time zones, plans already forming for all of us to meet up again the following summer, wherever any of us happened to land.

"Do you ever think about it?" I asked Jake one night, both of us lying in the grass in Yunjin's backyard, staring up at a sky considerably clearer than London's ever managed to be. "What would've happened if we'd never ended up as neighbors. If the universe hadn't shoved us back into each other's lives like that."

Jake was quiet for a moment, considering the question with the same careful seriousness he gave everything that actually mattered.

"I think we would've found our way back eventually," he said finally. "Maybe slower. Maybe messier. But I don't think either of us was built to just... let this go. Not really. Not permanently."

"That's very romantic, for someone who once tried to convince me a rock formation looked more like a potato than a dragon."

"I contain a lot. I told you that already."

I laughed, turning onto my side to look at him properly, memorizing the way the porch light caught the edge of his face, the easy, unguarded warmth that had replaced all that careful distance from the year before.

"I love you," I said. Simple. Certain. No hesitation left in it at all.

"I love you too," he said, reaching for my hand in the grass, lacing our fingers together the way he had a hundred times since London, a hundred times that still, somehow, felt as significant as the very first. "For the record… I plan on saying that every single day for a very long time. Just so we're both extremely clear on where things stand."

"Extremely clear," I agreed, smiling so wide it almost hurt.

Somewhere behind us, Yunjin's voice rang out, calling everyone in for dinner, and Sunghoon's laughter carried across the yard, and Chaewon was already arguing with Heeseung about whose turn it was to set the table, and it all felt, impossibly, exactly like it always had… except now, walking back toward the house, Jake's hand stayed in mine the entire way.

Not almost.

Not around.

Just, finally, ours.

THE END

Hope you guys enjoyed this two fic series!! Please drop any feedback please!! I would also love to hear what you guys like to see in the next fics, like tropes, members, anything!!

wonluvzu taglist ;)

@royallycraftyimp @iiunique @nishimoona @yfyftd

[wonluvzu]

WHAT YOU NEVER KNEW

TEASER (PART 2)

PART TWO OF "I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER"

⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ A semester in London was supposed to be the fresh start you had been waiting for. After spending an entire year trying to forget Jake and the misunderstanding that tore them apart, the last person she expected to see was him. Forced back into each other's lives, they find themselves sharing the same friends, the same city, and memories neither of them ever truly left behind. As old feelings begin to resurface, jealousy complicates everything, and the truth about last summer slowly comes to light. She is forced to question everything she thought she knew, including whether the person she spent a year trying to forget was ever the one she should have blamed.

𝙚𝙭 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙-ish! 𝙟𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 study abroad, london, college romance, neighbors, forced proximity, slow burn, yearning, angst, jealousy, unresolved feelings, mutual pining, banter, tension, emotional healing, miscommunication, second chance, ex-friends to lovers, friends to lovers, reader acts cold (tries to), protective jake, found family, roommate shenanigans, international students, longing, fluff, emotional confession, kissing, profanity, happy ending, MATURE themes, sexual content (don't know the specifics yet) wc:?? Songs 🎧: I Know What You Did Last Summer - Shawn Mendes & Camila Cabello, Wicked Games - The Weeknd, Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys, I Love You, I'm Sorry - Gracie Abrams, The Night We Met - Lord Huron, Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez, Daylight - Taylor Swift, Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

London was supposed to be my escape.

After spending an entire year avoiding Jake following one very unforgettable night that changed everything, studying abroad felt like the perfect chance to finally move on. Because what are the chances of bumping into him in such a big city like London... right?

Until I opened my dorm room door...

...and found him living directly across the hall.

Now we're forced into the same classes, the same friend group, and the same city, where avoiding each other becomes impossible.

As old feelings resurface, new friendships form, and jealousy starts blurring every line we've worked so hard to draw, the truth about last summer refuses to stay buried.

But what if everything I believed happened... never actually did?

Sometimes the hardest person to forgive isn't someone else.

It's yourself.

PART TWO COMING SOON!!

I think this one will be even better than the first one lowkey…

wonluvzu taglist: @royallycraftyimp @iiunique

[luvpocket]

top one (sim jake) ꫂ᭪݁

part two of top two !

pairing: coworker!jake x fem!reader

content: four year time skip, angst, smut, fluff.

warnings: mdni! sexual content, yearning, teasing, sexual tension, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do it), kind of risky sex, desperate sex, fingering, marking, shared history, hurt/comfort, alcohol use.

wc: 25.5k

note: i finally wrote it :’) i hope this gives you a little bit of closure hehe. thank you so much for all the love part one received, it was my first enha story and i was honestly nervous to even post it lmao. i genuinely love everyone here so much 🥹🫶🏻

i made a small playlist ! (i love doing this):

moon - daniel caesar / the cure - olivia rodrigo / fine line - harry styles / the book of love - the magnetic fields / these days - nico / how was your day? - beabadoobee / mirrorball - taylor swift / waiting room - phoebe bridgers / we’ll never have sex - leith ross / once more to see you - mitski / all too well (10 min version) - taylor swift / cigarette smoke - olivia rodrigo / honeybee - olivia rodrigo / supermodel - sza / riding around the dark - florist

permanent taglist (you can comment!): @kristynaaah @hooniella @gentlestpour @heelvcr @heesvnqie @kazehee @rikigirr @cherishmoka @hoonieslove @layenha @sulkybunnysstuff

top two taglist: @eclipsegetthatbag @sam1xi3 @nonsochenomemettere0

enjoy ! < 3

⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪

it took exactly one thousand four hundred and sixty one days for the phantom scent of cheap vodka and freezing wind to stop waking you up at three in the morning, though the ghost of that fire escape still lingered in the quiet corners of your mind like an unresolved equation. when you left that place, you hadn't just walked away from a campus or a ranking. you had completely dismantled the person you used to be, trading your grand academic ambitions for the unglamorous mechanics of survival.

your gap year was a blurred cycle of alarm clocks and heavy limbs, an endless stretch of twelve hour shifts at a local clinic where you filed medical records until your fingers went numb, all while living in the cramped, humid spare room of your aunt’s apartment. it was an existence stripped entirely of color, defined by the humiliating reality of counting pennies and sleeping on a mattress that smelled faintly of old dust, your already weak pride completely crushed as you watched your peers from afar moving forward while you were stuck in a static loop just to build back a savings account from nothing.

so when you finally saved enough to enroll in your final year, it wasn't at a prestigious institute with wood paneled walls and competitive hierarchies, but at an underfunded commuter university on the edge of the city where the paint was peeling in the hallways and the professors didn't even bother to memorize your name.

there were no numbered lists on the walls there, no brilliant rivals looking over your shoulder to see your methodologies. and for a long time, the absolute silence of it was harder to bear than the pressure ever had been.

you had spent that entire final year like a machine, putting your head down and grinding through advanced clinical seminars with detached efficiency. you completely refused to make friends or connect with anyone, because you were terrified that if you let your guard down for even a second, the overwhelming bitterness of what you had lost would swallow you whole. you finished your degree not with a sense of triumph, but with a quiet relief, your diploma just a piece of paper that proved you had survived the wreckage of your own life.

and now, two years later, you were standing in the sterile, brightly lit lobby of st. jude’s hospital, the heavy glass doors sliding shut behind you with a dull hiss that felt dangerously like a point of no return. you adjusted the strap of your bag against your shoulder, your fingers nervously tracing the sharp edges of the laminated plastic badge clipped to your blazer. you looked at it anxiously, your name printed in neat letters right above the title junior clinical psychologist.

this was supposed to be the fresh start you had spent so much time bleeding for, the clean slate where your past didn't follow you and your bank account was finally stable enough to let you breathe. yet, as you stared down the immaculate white corridor that smelled intensely of bleach and synthetic lavender, your stomach twisted into that same familiar knot of anxiety. the hospital was massive, a prestigious psychiatric and research hub that took only the best graduates. the sheer irony of ending up right back in an high stakes environment wasn't lost on you as you took a shaky breath, trying to steady the frantic beating of your heart.

you smoothed down the front of your trousers, the fabric stiff and unfamiliar, and began to walk toward the human resources department on the fourth floor, your heels clicking softly against the polished floors while you fought back the overwhelming urge to turn around and run. you told yourself you were ready, told yourself that the fragile, broken girl who had cried so much was completely dead and buried. but as you stepped into the elevator and watched the metal doors slowly close, the heavy silence inside felt thick with anticipation, as if the universe was just waiting for you to realize that some ghosts can never be outrun.

the elevator dinged, a soft sound that cut through the loud thumping of your heart. the metal doors slid open to reveal a sunlit floor that smelled faintly of that same lavender soap and old paper. you stepped out cautiously, your fingers still white from how tightly you were gripping the strap of your bag, waiting for the weight of the world to crush you again.

instead, a tall guy with a soft denim jacket thrown over his hospital scrubs detangled himself from the reception desk, a folder in his hand and a remarkably gentle expression on his face.

"you must be y/n." he said, his voice a low hum that didn't carry a single ounce of the cutting authority you had spent four years learning to fear. he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that felt completely uncalculated. "i'm daniel. i've been a clinical resident here for a bit of time now. the chief told me to look after you today so you don't accidentally walk into the research labs locked zones."

"good morning." you said, your throat tight, your body still braced for an interrogation about your credentials, your gap year, or the low tier university name printed on your degree.

but daniel just tucked the folder under his arm and gave you a reassuring nod. "don't look so terrified, y/n. we’re glad you're here. let's get you your locker keys first, and i'll show you where the good coffee machine is hidden."

you followed a half step behind him, your shoulder muscles so tense they practically ached because your brain was still operating on old, defensive code.

but daniel just walked at a leisurely pace, his hands shoved into the pockets of his denim jacket, pointing out things that had absolutely nothing to do with metrics or performance.

"the administrative wing is always a bit dry." he murmured, nodding toward a row of frosted glass doors as he guided you toward a back hallway. "but once you get past the main double doors, it gets a lot more human. the lounge is back here. it’s where we hide when the charting gets too mind numbing."

he pushed open a heavy wooden door as the clinical smell of floor wax was immediately replaced by the comforting scent of roasted coffee beans and toasted bread. the room was spacious, bathed in the soft morning light filtering through a row of large windows that looked out over a quiet inner courtyard. there were mismatched mugs drying on a rack by the sink, a half eaten box of donuts on the counter, and a couple of worn in green armchairs tucked into a corner by a bookshelf overflowing with thick psychiatric volumes.

"alright, locker forty two is yours." daniel said, pulling a small silver key from his pocket and sliding it across the counter toward you. "the lock sticks a little bit, so you have to give it a sharp jolt with your thumb when you turn it. go ahead and drop your things off."

you stepped toward the row of gray metal lockers, your fingers trembling slightly as you slotted the key into the lock of number forty two. you gave it the small jolt daniel had mentioned, the metal clicking open with a dull thud. as you swung the door wide, your breath caught in your throat. tucked inside the small shelf at the top was a small, hand painted ceramic mug with a sticky note stuck to the front in neat handwriting: welcome to the department, y/n! we left the good coffee pods in the top drawer for you. — ava.

you stared at the little note for a long second, the ink blurring slightly as a sudden pressure built up behind your eyes. for many years, you had been acting like a ghost, entirely convinced that your academic failure had stripped away your right to be welcomed anywhere. you had expected cold glances, a desk in a dark corner, and the silent judgment of people who had never had to drop out to survive. but this — this unprompted gesture of kindness from a stranger — felt completely upside down.

"ava is one of our occupational therapists." daniel explained softly, leaning his hip against the counter as he watched you trace the edge of the note with your thumb. his voice didn't carry any pity, just a grounding certainty that made you feel like you weren't about to shatter into pieces. "she remembers how brutal the first day can feel. we all do. nobody expects you to be a flawless machine by nine o'clock, y/n. just take a breath."

"thank you." you whispered, your voice thick as you carefully folded the note and tucked it into your blazer pocket before hanging your bag on a hook. "it’s... it's really nice."

once you had put on the mandatory white coat, daniel took you by the elbow, guiding you back out into the hall to begin the real introductions. but instead of marching you into a boardroom to present your credentials to a panel of hyper critical supervisors, the process was incredibly slow, almost domestic.

your first stop was the central nursing station, a horseshoe shaped desk right in the center of the adult psychiatric wing. an older woman with sharp eyes and her silver hair tied back in a neat bun was typing furiously on a computer, a massive stack of patient charts looming next to her elbow.

"may." daniel called out gently, tapping the top of the counter. "this is y/n. she's the new junior clinician taking over the outpatient cognitive behavioral therapy slots."

nurse may stopped typing immediately. she didn't just give you a professional nod and looked back at her screen. instead, she pushed her rolling chair back, standing up to look at you over her reading glasses. your body instinctively tensed, waiting for the standard evaluation look — a calculating glance that measured whether you were worth her time.

but to your surprise, her face softened into an almost maternal smile as she reached across the high desk to squeeze your hand. her palm was warm and dry, her grip surprisingly strong. "ah, the one with the research paper on adolescent trauma responses." she said, her voice rich and steady. "the chief showed us your abstract last week, y/n. it was beautifully written. we’ve been drowning in the outpatient queue, so you are an absolute godsend. if daniel here gives you any trouble or tries to pass off his intake paperwork to you, you come straight to me, alright?"

"okay." you said, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips for the first time all morning. the knot of anxiety that had been sitting in your stomach since you woke up at five o'clock began to loosen, just a fraction, leaving behind a strange ache of relief.

there were no lists on the walls here. there were no digital boards flashing your ranking to the entire department, no suffocating silence in the hallways where your peers almost refused to look you in the eye.

as daniel led you from the nursing station down toward the junior residents' lounge, introducing you to the speech pathologists, the social workers, and the intake coordinators, the world slowly began to regain its color. a guy named niki stopped eating his toast just to show you how to bypass the temperamental paper jam in the main copier. a senior resident named joe paused his phone call to give you a welcoming wave from his office door.

every interaction was small, subtle, and entirely devoid of friction. you weren't a metric to be beaten or a rival to be kept at a distance, you were just another pair of hands arriving to help carry the complicated stories of the people walking through the clinic doors. by eleven o'clock, as you sat at your new desk in the shared lounge, organizing your highlighters and looking over your first week's schedule, you took a deep breath of the sterile hospital air. right there, you allowed yourself to think, for the very first time, that maybe you had actually made it across the river. maybe the survival part was finally over, and you were allowed to just exist.

by twelve thirty, the morning rush had finally tapered off into a manageable hum. you were just finishing color coding your intake calendar when daniel leaned his head through the open doorway of the lounge, his pager clipped to his waistband and a crooked smile on his face. "alright, rookie." he said, gesturing with his chin toward the hallway. "lunchtime. let's get you down to the cafeteria before the neuro research team eats all the spicy pork bowls."

you stood up, smoothing down the front of your coat, and followed him down the long corridor toward the glass elevators. walking beside him felt easy, the hyper vigilant shield you usually wore around senior colleagues, and people in general, starting to feel a little lighter. your feet moved at an unhurried pace instead of the frantic scurry you had spent years mastering.

the cafeteria on the lower level was massive, flooded with bright sunshine pouring through the floor to ceiling glass windows that looked out onto the manicured green courtyard. the space was filled with the chaotic symphony of hospital life — the clatter of plastic trays, the low murmur of dozens of conversations, and the rhythmic squeak of sneakers on polished tile. just as you and daniel grabbed your trays and stepped into the salad line, an insistent electronic beep cut through the noise.

daniel unclipped his pager, his brow furrowing as he read the glowing green text on the tiny screen. he let out an apologetic groan, turning to look at you with a genuinely remorseful expression. "ah, damn it, y/n, i'm so sorry. there’s a critical intake issue down in ward b and they need a senior signature immediately. look," he said, pointing a finger toward a sunlit circular table near the center of the room where a girl with a high ponytail and bright pink crocs was violently waving her napkin at him. "go sit with lily. she’s one of our triage nurses on the psychiatric floor and she knows literally every single soul in this building. she won't let you sit alone, i promise. i'll catch up with you in twenty minutes."

"it's totally fine. thank you so much, daniel." you said, offering him a reassuring smile before balancing your tray in your hands and making your way toward the table.

lily didn't even wait for you to sit down before she pulled out the plastic chair next to her, her face lighting up with the kind of uncritical friendliness that you had spent years believing didn't exist in these kind of environments. "you're y/n, right? the new psych junior? daniel’s been talking about your research abstract for three days straight." she said, sliding her container of sliced strawberries toward the middle of the table to share. "sit, please. tell me everything. how was your morning? did nurse may try to scare you with the intake stack yet?"

"she was actually really sweet." you murmured, sitting down and feeling a genuine chuckle bubble up in your throat. "she told me she would protect me if daniel tried to dump his paperwork on my desk."

"oh, absolutely. may is the undisputed queen of this wing." lily laughed, leaning forward on her elbows, her eyes sparkling with a playful sort of energy. "but don't let the maternal vibe fool you. if you take her designated parking spot in the lower deck, she will systematically destroy your clinical rotation schedule. it’s a known fact."

for the next fifteen minutes, you actually found yourself having fun. it was an intoxicating sensation. you sat there eating your lunch, listening to lily dish out the entire social landscape of st. jude’s in a way that was entirely devoid of malice. she wasn't talking about who was publishing more or who had the highest accuracy ratings. she was telling you about the head of cardiology who accidentally wore mismatched shoes to a board meeting, and the radiology resident who was secretly terrified of the dark. you were smiling, your shoulders dropping completely as you let out a light laugh that felt real, a sound that hadn't crossed your lips in a standard hospital setting since the day you packed your bags into cardboard boxes. you felt like a normal girl, a normal twenty four year old having lunch with a coworker, completely wrapped in the warm cocoon of a life that finally made sense.

"oh, but wait, if you really want to know about the elite tier of the hospital, you have to look at the research tables by the courtyard glass." lily whispered suddenly, her tone shifting from bubbly amusement into a slightly dramatic drop that people usually reserve for campus legends or untouchable royalty. she nodded subtly toward the far end of the cafeteria, where the light from the courtyard windows was so bright it casted long shadows across the floor. "that’s the neuro analytics team. they're basically treated like gods by the administration because their data models bring in millions in grant funding every single quarter. but honestly? they are a bunch of absolute weirdos."

you took a sip of your water, still smiling, completely entertained by her commentary. "why do you say that?"

"because they're all completely socially inept, especially the golden boy resident they recruited a year ago." lily murmured, resting her chin in her hand as her eyes scanned the distant table. "god, the drama surrounding that guy is unreal. he came in from some insanely prestigious ivy league track. top of his class, brilliant beyond belief, the kind of mind that makes the chief practically weep with joy. but he is a literal ice cube, y/n. he’s been here like fourteen months and i don't think a single person has ever seen him actually laugh. all the nursing interns try to flirt with him, because he is honestly hot as fuck, but he just looks right through them like they're statistical noise."

the word hit the back of your throat like a drop of freezing water, your smile faltering just a fraction at the familiar terminology, a faint taste of old anxiety suddenly tingling on the back of your tongue.

"seriously, it’s almost tragic." lily continued, completely oblivious to the way your hand had gone entirely still against your napkins. "he works eighty hour weeks, lives in the high level research labs, and looks like he hasn't slept a full night since 2023. people think the mystery is hot though, i guess. his name is-"

"jake sim." lily said, finishing her sentence with a casual pop of a strawberry into her mouth, completely unaware that she had just dropped a live grenade onto the middle of the table. "honestly, just looking at him makes my own anxiety spike."

the name didn't just ring in your ears. it settled into the marrow of your bones with a dull ache that you hadn't felt in months. for the longest time, you had systematically scrubbed his name out of your vocabulary, burying it under stacks of cheap textbooks, twelve hour filing shifts, and the exhausting routine of survival. your heart did a violent thud against your ribs, and for a split second, your skin prickled with the phantom sensation of that dark balcony.

but as the initial shock rippled through your chest, something strange happened. the ground beneath your feet didn't disappear.

you felt the cool plastic of your new ID badge resting securely against your blazer. you felt the genuine sunlight washing over your shoulders from the courtyard glass, and you looked at lily, who was still sitting across from you, completely safe and friendly. you weren't that empty girl with seven hundred dollars in her savings account anymore. you had clawed your way through the dirt to earn this white coat, and you had built a life out of nothing but your own resilience. you were finally alive, and you were sure the ghost of jake sim didn't have the power to pull you back into the dark.

slowly, you turned your head. your eyes shifted past the crowded tables, the clattering trays, and the laughing interns, tracking the bright midday light until it hit the far end of the cafeteria against the glass panels.

there he was.

he looked so entirely different that it almost made your breath hitch in your throat, a quiet gasp trapped behind your teeth. the frantic brilliance that used to radiate off him like a sunburn was completely gone, replaced by a suffocating stillness that made him look entirely detached from the room around him. he was wearing his crisp white coat over a dark charcoal sweater, a pair of thin glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he sat slouched over a tablet covered in complex data models.

lily hadn't been exaggerating — he looked utterly hollowed out.

his sharp jawline seemed even more pronounced against his pale skin, his shoulders slumped forward in a total collapse of posture that made him look incredibly small despite his broad frame. the dark circles beneath his eyes were deep and bruised, a physical manifestation of a quiet rot that no amount of ivy league prestige could cure.

he looked like he was suffocating in the very tower he had broken both of you to keep. you sat there and watched him from afar, a strange mixture of old grief and quiet pity twisting in your stomach. you had spent years believing that he had won everything, that his charisma, his intelligence, his money and his status had bought him a flawless path while you were left to bleed in a cramped spare room. but looking at him now, the contrast was blindingly clear.

and then, as if feeling the sudden weight of your gaze cutting through the white noise of the cafeteria, his slouched shoulders suddenly went completely rigid.

jake slowly lifted his head from his tablet. through the thin silver frames of his glasses, his dark eyes scanned the crowded room with a cold indifference — until they hit your table. until they locked directly onto you.

the world didn't just stop, it felt like it imploded. the color completely drained from jake's face within a fraction of a second, his entire body freezing so abruptly his fingers slipped off the edge of his tablet. behind his glasses, his eyes opened with a raw shock that was so visceral you could feel it across the distance of the room. he didn't blink. he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling in shallow hitches as if he were looking at a literal ghost.

the mutual panic between you was thick, a dark wire pulling tight until it bruised. your heart was hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird, the urge to run out of the cafeteria scratching at the back of your throat. because despite the new white coat on your back and the ID badge pinned to your blazer, you momentarily felt like that same broken girl, and he momentarily looked like the boy who still held the pieces.

jake didn't move. his knuckles turned white where his hands gripped the edge of the laminate table, a plastic pen slipping from his fingers and rolling off the surface with a dull click that you couldn't hear across the noise, but saw perfectly. the suffocating intensity in his stare was exactly the same as it had been on that fire escape — a direct line cutting through years of separation like it was nothing but thin air. you wanted to look away, you desperately needed to tear your eyes from his, but your muscles felt like concrete.

"y/n? god, you've gone totally white." lily’s voice suddenly pierced through the static in your ears, her hand warm and solid as it pressed firmly into your forearm. the touch felt like an electric shock, forcing the oxygen back into your lungs and breaking the invisible wire that had been pinning you to your chair. you forced your head down, the movement so abrupt it made the bright cafeteria blur into a messy smear of white and green.

"i'm fine." you choked out, your voice sounding incredibly small, a brittle lie that scratched at your throat. you stared at your tray, your fingers trembling so violently against your napkin that you had to tuck your hands between your knees just to hide the shaking. "just... a sudden head rush. i think the fluorescent lights are just a bit much today."

"are you sure? you look like you're about to faint." lily murmured, her playful energy instantly evaporating into genuine concern as she leaned closer, trying to read your downcast face. "do you want me to get you some juice from the counter? or we can go back to the junior lounge where it's quieter."

"no, no, i'm okay, promise." you whispered, forcing a mechanical smile onto your face as you risked raising your chin just enough to look at her, completely terrified of what would happen if your eyes drifted back toward the glass panels. "just give me a second. i just need to breathe."

but even with your back partially turned and your eyes glued to the table, you could still feel him. his gaze was a physical weight on the side of your neck, hot and heavy, a silent scream cutting through the clatter of silverware and the low murmur of the hospital staff. you were supposed to be safe here. you had bled for years to earn this position, to prove to yourself that your worth wasn't tied to his world, but the mere sight of him had reduced all that hard earned resilience into a fragile shield.

you took a slow sip of your water, using both hands to keep the plastic cup from rattling against your teeth. out of the very edge of your peripheral vision, you saw the distant shadow by the window finally change shape. jake hadn't stood up to come toward you. instead, his broad shoulders had slouched even deeper forward, his head dropping slowly into his hands as his fingers tangled desperately in his dark hair, now stripped of the recognizable bleach from your college years. the sight of his collapse sent a strange shiver down your spine. you weren't better than him, and you certainly weren't healed — the frantic thumping of your heart was proof enough of that. seeing the golden boy of your past university completely undone by your mere existence was a complicated pill to swallow.

"hey, daniel's back." lily said softly, nodding toward the entrance where daniel was weaving through the tables, his expression still hurried.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, smoothing down your coat with numb fingers, preparing yourself to look normal, to look functional, to look like the junior psychologist you were supposed to be. even as the ghost from the fire escape sat just a few yards away, drowning in the exact same room.

"hey, sorry that took longer than expected." daniel said, his voice dropping into the empty space at the table as he slid into the chair across from you. he smelled faintly of the cold air from the lower corridors and sterile hand sanitizer, his presence a grounding burst of normal reality. "some intern completely botched a medication reconciliation chart on a sectioned patient down in ward b. absolute nightmare."

you forced your chin up, the muscles in your neck so rigid they actually ached as you offered him a small nod. you had spent the entirety of your gap year learning how to look perfectly functional when your insides were completely hollowed out, and that defensive muscle memory kicked in now with a terrifying efficiency.

"it's fine." you murmured, your voice sounding a little distant, like it belonged to someone else entirely. "lily kept me entertained."

lily looked between the two of you, her eyes lingering on the way your knuckles were still white around your plastic water cup. "she had a bit of a sudden head rush, actually." she told daniel, her playful tone dropping into something more subdued. "i think the air down here is just a little suffocating today. she went completely pale for a second."

daniel’s brows furrowed, his gaze instantly shifting to your face with genuine concern. "you okay, y/n? the first day is a massive sensory overload, honestly. if you need to sit out the afternoon intake observations, i can easily tell the supervisor you're still adjusting."

"no, really, i'm okay." you interrupted, the words tumbling out a little too fast, a little too sharp. you couldn't afford to look weak on your first day. you couldn’t lose your footing the second you crossed the finish line. and more than anything, you refused to let the boy by the window be the reason you stumbled. "just needed some water. i'm ready for the rest of the tour, daniel. really." you stood up, your knees feeling uncomfortably loose beneath your trousers, your hands gripping the edges of your plastic tray with unnecessary force just to keep them from trembling.

as the three of you cleared the table and walked toward the tray return conveyor belt, you were forced to walk a path that ran parallel to the long row of courtyard windows. you didn't look, keeping your eyes locked strictly on the blue fabric of daniel's scrubs ahead of you. but the human brain is a cruel machine, as it mapped out the coordinates of your oldest wound without your permission.

still, you kept walking, the metal doors of the elevator finally sliding shut with a soft click. as it lifted toward the fourth floor, you kept your eyes trained on the small digital floor indicator, watching the numbers glow in the quiet air, forcing your lungs to expand and contract in a mechanical pattern. you had to keep it together. you had a job to do, a life to maintain, and you couldn't afford to crumble into dust before your first afternoon was even halfway over.

the outpatient psychiatric wing was quiet, a stark and comforting contrast to the sensory chaos of the lower floors. the hallways here were wide, painted a muted sage green that seemed designed to absorb the ambient anxiety of the building, and the harsh fluorescent glare was replaced by soft track lighting that casted gentle shadows against the polished floors.

daniel led you down the corridor, his sneakers making a faint squeak against the floor until he stopped outside a dark wood door with a small plastic nameplate reading office 312 — y/n, junior clinician.

"here's your space." daniel murmured, pushing the door open to reveal a compact but cozy room. a heavy oak desk sat against the wall, a tall bookshelf stood empty and waiting for your texts, and two charcoal grey armchairs faced each other near a wide window that looked out over the quiet tops of the courtyard trees. on the corner of the desk, a thick stack of manila folders was waiting for you — your first real patient intake roster. "i'll leave you to look over the files for an hour. at two, we'll do a joint observation in consultation room b. take a breath, y/n. you made it through the first morning."

you managed a small nod, offering him a professional smile as he closed the door behind him. the heavy wood clicked into place, insulating you from the rest of the hospital, and for a few minutes, you forced yourself to go through the motions of a normal life. you sat in the leather chair, logged into the clinical database, and arranged your highlighters in a perfectly straight line. you opened the first file, your thumb tracing the words generalized anxiety disorder and maladaptive coping strategies, trying to anchor yourself to the clinical reality that you were a professional now. you belonged there.

but the moment the room fell entirely still, the clinical terms blurred on the page, and your gaze drifted helplessly toward the glass pane of the window.

your outside shell was holding up perfectly — you had spoken to daniel, you had accepted the paperwork, you were clicking through the software exactly like a competent junior clinician should. but inside, your chest felt completely hollowed out, your mind utterly hijacked by the image of the boy from the cafeteria table.

you were deeply moved by that moment, and it terrified you how easily the mere sight of him could still rip the air straight out of your lungs. for years, you had carried a defensive but silent anger like a shield, entirely convinced that jake had walked away from your ruined relationship with his hands full of gold. you had pictured him thriving on his prestigious track, moving through his wealthy world with that same infuriating, effortless arrogance, completely untouched by the gravity that had left you counting coins in a dark room.

but the difference between the boy in your memory and the person sitting by that window was devastating. you remembered a jake whose posture was always straight with competitive pride, whose dark eyes snapped with magnetic energy whenever he spoke about his research models. he used to look entirely untouchable, like the world was something he could just bend to his will.

but the guy down there today looked smaller. the way his broad shoulders had slouched forward in that exhausted collapse. the deep, bruised hollows beneath his eyes. the frantic way his fingers had tangled in his dark hair — it was so incredibly easy to see how much he had changed.

as you sat in the quiet of your new office, your hands were still ice cold, the erratic thumping against your ribs a painful reminder that you were still incredibly fragile. but as you reached forward to open the next patient file, forcing your trembling fingers to grip the tab, a strange quiet finally settled over your panic. you were okay. your life was actually starting now and you wouldn’t let anyone or anything mess with that, not even your own self.

⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪

the weeks that followed that first afternoon slowly bled into a steady rhythm, the sharp edges of your initial panic gradually wearing down until they were nothing more than a manageable hum. the outpatient wing became a space that didn't just feel safe, but familiar. you learned the strange language of the charting software, figured out exactly how nurse may liked her intake summaries formatted, and found that the charcoal grey armchairs in office 312 actually held the weight of a lot of heavy stories without breaking. to your own quiet surprise, you weren't just getting by, you were actually good at your job. the long years you had spent being hyper vigilant in a spare bedroom, analyzing every slight shift in the air just to survive, finally translated into an intuitive competence. even the socializing part of your life was slowly losing its friction. you found yourself lingering by the central horseshoe desk just to exchange soft, dry humor with nurse may, or letting lily drag you down to the lower courtyard for quick coffee breaks. you were learning how to take up space again, and your outside shell was finally starting to feel less like a fragile shield and more like real skin.

it was a rainy tuesday afternoon in late november when you were just finishing up your notes. as you typed on your laptop, daniel knocked lightly on your open door, a thick blue binder tucked securely under his arm. 

"hey, y/n." daniel said, leaning against the doorframe with a tired but collaborative smile. "the chief is pushing for a cross-departmental review on our chronic outpatient queue. we’re trying to integrate our clinical cognitive tracking with the new predictive data models from neuro-analytics to see if we can catch patient regression earlier. we're doing a quick briefing in consultation room c."

"sure, let me just grab my tablet." you murmured, closing your own folder and sliding it into your drawer. you stood up, automatically smoothing down the front of your coat, the fabric now broken in and comfortable against your shoulders. you felt normal. you felt capable as you followed daniel down the sage green corridor, chatting idly about how his morning went.

when daniel pushed open the heavy door to consultation room c, the air inside was quiet, illuminated by the soft gray light filtering through a high window. a senior research coordinator named dr. vance was already standing by the digital whiteboard, his stylus tapping against the screen as he pulled up a series of complex graphs.

but it wasn't the graphs that made the blood instantly turn to ice in your veins.

sitting at the far end of the long metal conference table, slouched low over a glowing laptop, was jake. his pale fingers were moving across his keyboard in a mechanical blur, reminding you of the agonizing hours you used to spend watching him do that, looking just as hollowed out as he had some weeks ago. his broad shoulders curved inward in that heavy collapse of posture, completely detached from the room around him.

"ah, perfect, the clinical team is here." dr. vance said, looking up from the board with an energetic nod. he gestured toward the empty chairs opposite the table, entirely oblivious to the way your entire body had gone completely rigid the second your shoes hit the carpet. "y/n, come on in, take a seat."

jake’s fingers froze instantly on his keyboard.

slowly, as if the movement required an immense amount of physical effort, his head lifted. through the thin frames of his glasses, his dark eyes fixed directly onto you. the indifference that usually masked his face shattered within a fraction of a second, his jaw tightening so hard the muscle visibly jumped beneath his skin. the color drained from his lips, his chest rising in a shallow hitch that you could hear perfectly in the quiet room.

you looked around nervously, seeing that a handful of people were already gathered around the long metal conference table. dr. vance spoke again, quickly taking you out of your trance. "everyone, this is y/n, our new junior clinician on the outpatient slots. y/n, this is dr. cho from neurology, anna from stats, and over there is jake sim from neuro-analytics."

jake didn't move. his hand was still hovering over his laptop, his knuckles turning a stark white as he waited.

you wanted to run, but you didn’t. you couldn’t. instead, you took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing your outside shell to hold together with an icy efficiency. before the silence could stretch into something strange, you offered the table a polite smile and gave a casual nod in his direction.

"oh, we actually know each other." you said, your voice sounding remarkably light, completely devoid of any weight or history, as if you were talking about an old acquaintance you barely remembered. "jake and i. we went to the same undergrad university. good to see you, jake."

the words dropped into the room like a casual breeze, but across the table, jake looked like he had been physically struck. you actually didn’t know why you had said that, or if it even was appropriate in that setting. but the survival instinct had taken over before your conscious brain could even veto it. it was a defense mechanism, pure and simple — a desperate strike to set the boundaries before both of your expressions could give you away to the entire room. if you made him small, if you treated him like nothing more than an old classmate you casually ran into, then the ghost couldn't drag you back into the dark. you were claiming the narrative before he could even speak, forcing the past into a box neither of you were allowed to open.

"oh, small world! i love when that happens." dr. vance chuckled, completely missing the way the color had entirely drained from your faces. he turned back to the whiteboard, tapping the stylus against the screen. "well, that makes communication easier. y/n, for this pilot, you'll be coordinating your weekly clinical tracking metrics directly with anna and dr. cho. jake is going to be handling the macro backend algorithm on the upper floors, so he'll just be pulling from the shared database."

"perfect, that works great for me." you murmured, sliding into an empty chair next to daniel, completely removing your gaze from the far end of the table.

you opened your tablet, your fingers perfectly steady as you focused on the tracking graphs, completely refusing to look back at him. but even without looking, you could feel the crushing weight of his stare burning into the side of your face.

the remaining twenty minutes of the briefing passed in a dull blur. you kept your eyes anchored to the glass screen of your tablet, your fingers tracing the plastic bezel with a mechanical pressure, completely hyper-aware of how the air in the room had turned thick and heavy.

when dr. vance finally clicked his presentation shut, the sound of chairs scraping against the floor felt like a jarring rescue. you moved with quiet efficiency without looking across the table. you didn't wait to see if jake would stand up, or if the coldness in his eyes would melt into something else. you simply slid your tablet into your bag, gave dr. cho and anna a professional farewell nod, and walked out the door alongside daniel.

the frantic rhythm of your chest didn’t truly settle until you were three corridors away, the heavy double doors of the outpatient wing clicking shut behind you and daniel like a physical shield. you had spent the entire walk down the hallway nodding mechanically at daniel’s casual commentary about pharmacy backlogs, your outside shell perfectly intact, while inside, your mind was a spinning wreckage. you had actually done it. you had looked right into those dark eyes — the same eyes that had watched you break, the same eyes that had haunted every quiet room you had gone in for years — and you had reduced him to a footnote. as you kept walking, the phantom taste of adrenaline left a bitter weight under your tongue.

but you didn't look back. and for the next few weeks, you made sure it stayed that way.

⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪

the following days didn't bring a clean break, but rather a slow stretching of time. november bled seamlessly into a frost rimed december, the hospital windows growing opaque with sheets of gray winter rain. you adapted with a quiet precision, rewriting the internal map of your entire life around your new routine and his avoidance. you learned the exact cadence of the neuro-analytics shift changes. you knew never to take the central elevators between noon and one o'clock. you even memorized the specific smell of the fourth floor crossover bridge just so you could avoid it entirely. you told yourself you were healing because you weren't running away, but the exhausting amount of mental math it took to ensure your paths never crossed was a violent proof that he still occupied every corner of your brain.

yet, the hospital was an interlocking machine, and no matter how thick you built the walls of your fortress downstairs, the central server kept pulling your names into the same dark water. every tuesday and thursday evening, you were forced to log into the pilot program's shared ledger to input your clinical outcomes. and there, sitting quietly at the bottom of the encrypted data stream, his digital footprint would appear. j. sim. a timestamp at 7:42 pm. a database synchronization at 2:14 am. you would stare at the glowing gray characters on your screen, your chest tightening with a strange intimacy. you weren't speaking, you hadn't exchanged a single syllable since that morning in consultation room c, but you were reading his insomnia in the margins of the system logs. you knew exactly how late he was staying up, how obsessively he was twisting the code around your clinical notes, while he, on the upper floors, was watching your data drop into his system with the exact same silent regularity. it was a cold war fought in glowing pixels, both of you pretending to be ghosts while leaving digital footprints all over each other's work.

it was a freezing, stormy thursday night when the outpatient wing completely emptied out, leaving you alone in office 312 under the low hum of the fluorescent lights. you were just finishing the final entry on a critical, high risk observation file — a profile that absolutely required the morning analytics baseline — when your screen suddenly flashed a harsh crimson. the system locked. a stark, red diagnostic message blinked against your eyes: 

critical error: data sync corruption. cross-departmental token required for manual override. please report to neuro-analytics hub for physical database alignment.

you stared at the blinking cursor, a heavy knot of dread dropping straight into your stomach. the administrative staff had gone home hours ago. there were no on call tech couriers left on the lower floors. if you didn't manually push the token through before midnight, the patient’s entire chart would wipe, and the blame would land squarely on your pristine new record. you couldn't lose this job. you couldn't let your wreckage ruin this sanctuary.

with trembling fingers, you ejected the local backup drive, your heart already starting that familiar clatter against your ribs as you stepped into the darkened elevator. the numbers on the digital display ticked upward with a terrifying speed.

when the silver doors slid open on the seventh floor, the air instantly changed. floor seven didn't hold the soft sage green warmth of your clinical spaces. it was a sprawling labyrinth of brushed steel, glass partitions, and exposed concrete. it smelled strongly of ozone and expensive server cooling units, illuminated only by the deep blue glow of oversized workstation monitors. your flats made a terribly loud click against the polished floor as you moved through the maze of empty desks, your hand gripping the flash drive inside your pocket until your knuckles turned white.

"hello?" you called out, your voice sounding remarkably small, swallowed up by the heavy silence of the tech hub. "is there a resident analyst on duty? i need a clinical sync override."

no one answered. the silence stretched out, thick and heavy with the hum of a hundred cooling fans. you walked deeper into the heart of the floor, towards a private research alcove at the very back where a single amber desk lamp casted a long shadow across the concrete. the heavy glass door was propped slightly open.

you stepped up to the threshold, your lips parted to speak, but the breath died instantly in your throat.

jake was there.

he was entirely alone in the darkened lab, slouched so low in a heavy leather chair he looked almost broken by it. his white coat was gone, discarded carelessly over a nearby partition, leaving him in just a thin sweater that clung to the sharp lines of his shoulders. his glasses were pushed carelessly up into his messy dark hair, and his forehead was pressed hard into the palm of his hand as he stared blindly at a massive wall of cascading code. he looked utterly unraveled — the charismatic golden boy who used to glide through university lecture halls with a lazy ease was completely gone. in his place was a hollowed out resident, his face starkly pale under the light, seemingly surviving on nothing but caffeine and pure willpower.

the sound of your shallow intake of air cut through the low drone of the servers like a physical blow.

jake’s fingers froze instantly against his temple. slowly, his head lifted, his dark eyes adjusting to the dim light before they drifted toward the doorway. the exact second his gaze landed on you standing there, the exhausted slouch vanished. his entire frame went completely rigid, his jaw clenching so hard a sharp muscle hitched beneath his skin. he didn't move, and he didn't speak, but his chest began to rise and fall in a ragged pattern as the trap slammed shut around both of you. there were no senior coordinators there, no statistics teams, and no daniel to slide between your spaces. you were entirely exposed, locked in his high tower, with absolutely nowhere left to hide.

the silence that followed was so absolute you could hear the faint click of the cooling fans overriding the main server grid. neither of you moved. for five suffocating seconds, you just stood frozen on the threshold, your fingers digging into the plastic casing of the flash drive inside your pocket until the edges painfully bit into your palm. you became hyper aware of every single detail — the amber glow of the desk lamp cutting across his pale cheekbones, the way his dark hair was slightly damp from the storm outside, the crushing weight of his eyes locking onto yours.

almost mechanically, jake reached up and pulled his glasses down from his hair, sliding them back onto the bridge of his nose. the movement was deliberate, a shield to put between his exhausted face and your sudden presence.

"the data sync crashed." you said. your voice sounded shockingly thin in the vast concrete lab, a fragile thread that you desperately tried to lace with clinical authority. "outpatient database. it threw a cross-departmental corruption error. i need a physical token override before midnight or the file wipes."

jake didn't answer right away. he just stared at you through his lenses, his jaw working silently as he processed the actual sound of your voice. it wasn't a casual remark thrown across a crowded conference table anymore, but your voice, directly addressing him, alone in the dark.

"give it to me." he finally muttered. his tone was incredibly low, rough and gravelly from hours of silence and too much black coffee. it lacked any of that effortless charisma that used to make entire lecture halls lean in toward him. it just sounded incredibly tired and incredibly bitter.

you took three slow steps into his space, every muscle in your legs screaming at you to turn around and run back to the elevator. you pulled the small silver flash drive from your pocket and held it out, your arm stiff, keeping as much physical distance between your bodies as humanly possible. jake reached out to take it. he was meticulously careful not to let his fingers brush against yours, a deliberate avoidance that felt more intimate than an actual touch. he snatched the drive, the cold metal clicking against his keyboard as he slotted it into the side of his terminal.

the silence returned, heavier this time, punctuated only by the aggressive clack of his fingers hitting the keys. you stood just a step behind his shoulder, your eyes tracking the reflection of the cascading blue data lines across the glass of his monitors. your heart was hammering a violent rhythm against your ribs, a wild animal trying to break free of your crisp white coat. you didn't know where to look, you didn't know what to do with your hands. you just stood there, drowning in the suffocating scent of his sterile soap and bitter espresso.

"it’s a localized token block." jake said, his eyes never leaving the screen, his fingers moving with a terrifyingly robotic speed. "outpatient didn't clear the analytics queue from tuesday. your department is sloppy."

the petty, defensive swipe hit you like a low blow, a sudden flash of the old undergrad jake who couldn't bear to let you have an inch of ground without indirectly reminding you that he was still number one. but somehow, this time it was really direct. a strange heat flared in your chest, melting a tiny fraction of your icy composure.

"our department is handling eighty intakes a day, jake." you murmured, keeping your face carefully blank, though your tone caught on a sharp edge. "we don't have the luxury of sitting in a quiet glass tower playing with algorithms all night. some of us are actually dealing with human beings."

jake’s fingers froze instantly over the keyboard. the sudden halt of the clicking was jarring, making the empty room feel entirely too small again. he didn't look up at the screen, and he didn't look back at you. he just stared at his own knuckles, his broad shoulders rising and falling in a long, ragged exhale.

"is that what you think this is?" he whispered. the venom was gone, replaced by a bleeding misery that made your stomach twist in a deeply uncomfortable way. "playing around?"

you swallowed hard, the cold knot of internal turmoil tightening until it was hard to draw a full breath. deep down, in the places you spent so much time trying to bury under clinical charts, you knew he wasn't playing. you knew he was suffocating there just as much as you had been suffocating in that humid bedroom. you knew you were both ghosts trying to pretend the haunting wasn't real. but admitting that meant letting the walls crumble, and if the walls crumbled, you wouldn't survive the night.

"i just need the file synced." you whispered back, your voice dropping into that polite detachment that probably drove him insane. "that's all i'm here for."

jake let out a breathy sound, a bitter excuse for a laugh. he finally turned his head, looking up at you from his slouched position in the heavy leather chair. from this close, beneath the harsh light of the lamp, you could see those dark bruises of exhaustion under his eyes. he looked so fragile it made your chest physically ache.

"you're so good at that." he murmured, his dark eyes searching your face with an agonizing intensity, looking for any crack in your mask. "the polite junior clinician. the perfect colleague. you look right at me and you don't even blink. how do you do it, y/n? how do you act like you didn't leave a total disaster behind you?"

"jake, please-"

"i stayed away from that floor for months now." he cut you off, his voice trembling slightly, the flat edge of his clinical persona fracturing completely in the quiet lab. "i checked the schedules. i took the back stairs. i did everything i could because i thought... i thought if i saw you, it would kill me. and then you walk into a briefing, look me in the eye, and tell the chief we're just old university acquaintances." he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his face just inches away from your coat. "we didn't just go to university together, y/n." he whispered, his eyes wide, swimming with a raw mix of resentment and pure unadulterated longing. "and you know it."

your outside shell felt like it was fracturing, tiny cracks spreading across your entire composure as the sheer weight of his words pressed against you. you wanted to scream at him. you wanted to ask him why he was acting like the victim when he was the one who kept the perfect scores, the perfect path, the perfect building while you had to rebuild your entire mind from scratch. but the survival instinct — that icy, brilliant shield — held the pieces together at the absolute last second.

you took a small step backward, pulling yourself out of the circle of amber light, out of his immediate space. "the system log says the override is pending." you said, your voice remarkably level, light, and entirely devoid of any history, as if he hadn't just laid his ribs bare in front of you. you pointed a steady finger toward the glowing green progress bar on his monitor. "is it clear to eject?"

jake stared at you, his mouth parting just a fraction, looking a bit dizzy from the quiet rejection. the raw emotion in his eyes instantly curdled into a defeated vacancy. you had given him absolutely nowhere to put his anger. you had treated his bleeding heart like an inappropriate interruption to a data transfer. without another word, he reached out, clicked the safety eject button, and pulled the flash drive from the slot. he didn't look at you as he held it out, his hand perfectly still, his eyes fixed blindly on the cascading rows of code. "it's clear." he said flatly, his tone completely dropping back into that lower register, devoid of any warmth or friction.

"thank you, jake." you murmured softly. you took the drive, slipping it back into your pocket, and turned on your heel. your flats made that same lonely click against the polished concrete as you walked away from the alcove, leaving him sitting entirely alone in there, drowning in the silence you refused to break.

the second the weight of his presence was lifted, the fragile scaffolding of your composure didn't just crack — it completely crumbled. you hit the button for the fourth floor, your hand trembling so violently your fingernail clicked sharply against the plastic. you dropped your forehead against the cold stainless steel wall of the elevator, your breath coming in short hitches that fogged the metal right in front of your eyes. your heart was hammering a terrifying rhythm against your ribs, a loud thumping that felt less like a pulse and more like a physical betrayal. that was the part that made you want to scream. you had spent so much time convincing yourself that you were whole. you had sat through countless hours of silence in a tiny apartment, learning how to breathe through the memories, forcing yourself to believe that you had outgrown the wreckage of undergrad. he had come to your mind, of course — in the quiet space between sleep and waking, or when the smell of stale coffee hit a room just right. but you thought you had built an ocean between who you were then and who you were now.

yet, one look at him slouched under that lamp, one sound of his voice dropping into that gravelly register, and your body acted like it was still twenty, trapped on that freezing fire escape, completely unraveled by him. you hadn't grown at all. you had just built a very expensive, very fragile glass box around a fire that was still burning.

why was it beating so fast? you thought, your fingers curling into the fabric of your coat, desperately trying to steady the frantic rise and fall of your chest. you’re a clinician. you know the physiology of panic. force it down. breathe in for four. hold.

but your brain refused to follow the clinical rules. because louder than the panic was the sudden prickle of a deep confusion. you didn't even recognize the girl who had just spoken to him. where had that ice come from? when he had looked up at you, his eyes wide and swimming with that confusing gaze, everything inside you had screamed to reach out, to touch the sleeve of his dark sweater, to ask him if he was eating, if he was sleeping, if he was okay. but instead, your mouth had opened and delivered a series of perfectly timed, brutal rejections. you had treated his emotions like a system error.

you didn't fully understand why you were being like that. it was like your brain had split in two: one half dying to scream his name, and the other half operating with a robotic efficiency that felt entirely alien to you. you were protecting yourself, you knew that deep down, but the sheer coldness of your own voice scared you. you had turned into a monster just to keep him from seeing that you were still bleeding.

and then there was his anger. the elevator jolted as it passed the fifth floor, and a sudden wave of resentment washed through your veins, turning the cold panic into defensive fury. how dare he be mad at you? how dare he stand there in his high tower and act like you had packed your bags and walked away because you wanted to? he knew. he knew better than anyone in the world that you hadn't chosen to leave. you had been forced out. you had been completely shattered, reduced to nothing but a hollow shell while he got to keep the perfect scores, the perfect path, the prestigious analytics spot on the seventh floor. you had left because staying would have killed you. it was survival, pure and simple.

and yet, he was looking at you with those resentful eyes, accusing you of leaving a disaster behind, as if he hadn't been the one holding the match. it almost felt like he was angry because you weren't still broken. it felt like he was angry because you had dared to put on a white coat and heal yourself without his permission. which was absurd to think about, if you were honest. you couldn't possibly know what he was thinking anymore, since you barely knew what your own self was thinking at that point.

"you don't get to be the victim, jake." you whispered into the empty elevator, your voice shaking as an angry tear finally escaped, hot and stinging against your cheek. "you don't get to be the one who's hurt."

the elevator chime gave a soft ding as the doors slid open to the warm, safe, sage green corridors of the fourth floor. you wiped your face with an aggressive swipe of your sleeve, drawing your shoulders back and forcing your spine to go completely rigid once more. you stepped out into the quiet hallway, your mind a chaotic storm of confusion and unresolved history, entirely conscious of the silver drive heavy in your pocket.

⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪

the days continued anyway, like they always did. people still showed up to work carrying paper cups of coffee, the elevators still dinged every few minutes, patients still talked to you in your office about divorces and panic attacks and impossible childhoods. the seasons shifted almost lazily outside the hospital windows, the trees in the courtyard gradually surrendering their last amber leaves until only dark branches remained against the winter sky.

and somewhere inside all of that ordinary movement, your own life quietly continued growing around the wound. but it wasn't linear, because seeing jake like that had definitely affected you.

some mornings, you woke up convinced that you had finally left that version of yourself behind. you drove to work with the windows cracked open despite the cold, singing softly along to whatever song happened to be playing through the speakers, your fingers tapping absentmindedly against the steering wheel as the city slowly came to life around you. you would stop at the café two blocks from the hospital because the owner had started remembering your order, and there was something deeply comforting about hearing someone smile as they asked, "the usual?".

other mornings, you caught the faint smell of burnt coffee drifting from the staff lounge, and before you even understood why your chest had tightened, you were back inside that library. the old one. fluorescent lights humming overhead, rows of impossibly tall bookshelves, the constant clicking of keyboards echoing through the silence. jake, sitting across from you with one elbow resting against the table, completely oblivious to the fact that he had somehow become the center of your entire peripheral vision. your body remembered him before your mind ever had the chance to object.

and somehow, it happened constantly. someone staying late finishing documentation, someone quietly correcting a typo on one of your shared reports before you noticed it, someone absentmindedly pushing a mug toward you because they knew you had forgotten to eat lunch. the library. him.

you hated that place and you hated that person. you hated how something as ordinary as a shared document could still make your stomach twist. sometimes, while waiting for a patient's file to load, you found yourself staring at the blinking cursor on your screen. and all you could think about was another cursor, years ago, appearing underneath yours at two thirty seven in the morning.

lately, you had begun wondering if you were actually haunted by who you had been whenever he was around instead of just being haunted by him. that girl had lived every single day with her shoulders pulled too tightly together, measuring her own worth against numbers on a ranking board and believing exhaustion was something admirable. sometimes, sitting across from your own patients while they slowly untangled years of anxiety, you almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. you could explain the physiology of chronic stress without looking at your notes. you knew exactly what prolonged hypervigilance did to the brain. yet somehow, your own nervous system still reacted to memories of a university library like it was preparing for impact.

he wasn't even there, hadn't been for months. and still your heartbeat occasionally forgot what year it was.

but life kept insisting on happening anyway. lily had somehow decided you were incapable of eating lunch alone. she would appear outside your office almost every afternoon without fail, leaning dramatically against your doorframe.

"come on." she would sigh theatrically. "if you make me eat cafeteria pasta by myself one more time i'm reporting you to hr."

you always rolled your eyes, but you always went anyway.

daniel started saving you coffee whenever he was on early rounds. nurse may had stopped introducing you as "the new junior." somewhere along the way, you had simply become y/n. people knocked before entering your office because they respected your space. patients asked for you by name. and your bookshelf slowly filled with textbooks, sticky notes, and the tiny ceramic plants lily kept insisting made the room "less clinically depressing."

you even caught yourself laughing comfortably now, without a second thought. real laughter, the kind that reached your stomach before your brain had time to overthink whether it sounded strange. you smiled to yourself when you thought about it while walking down the hallway. even if he was on your mind way more than you would ever want to admit, maybe you were healing. and maybe healing wasn't dramatic after all, maybe it just looked like forgetting to be miserable for a few hours.

⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪

by the time december settled over the city completely, the hospital had transformed. paper snowflakes hung crookedly from the reception desk. someone had wrapped ridiculous gold tinsel around nurse may's computer monitor. a tiny artificial christmas tree appeared in the staff lounge, decorated almost exclusively with anatomy themed ornaments someone from surgery found hilarious.

"hospital dinner next friday." lily dropped the announcement onto your desk one morning.

"mandatory?" you looked up from your notes.

"strongly encouraged." 

"which means mandatory."

"exactly." she grinned. "you're coming."

you instinctively opened your mouth to decline. the old version of you would have invented an excuse before anyone could ask twice. but you were trying to prove that girl wasn't carrying your life anymore.

"...okay." the word surprised even you.

lily blinked. "that's it?"

you shrugged, smiling into your paperwork. "i guess i can survive one dinner."

"daniel!" lily shouted immediately into the hallway. "she said yes!"

somewhere outside your office you heard daniel cheer dramatically. you couldn't help laughing, completely unaware that, three floors above you, another department had received the exact same invitation.

and just like that, friday arrived much faster than you expected. by six thirty, the winter sky had already dissolved into complete darkness, the city streets shimmering under the glow of christmas lights and the reflections of the afternoon rain. you stood in front of your apartment mirror for far longer than was probably necessary, one hand smoothing invisible wrinkles from the dark green dress you had bought months ago and never found a reason to wear. it wasn't particularly fancy, just soft knit fabric that hugged your waist comfortably, long sleeves, a modest neckline. adult, you supposed.

you looked... older. not older in the exhausted way you used to after pulling consecutive all nighters in the library until your eyes burned from staring at statistical outputs. just older in the quiet sense. like someone who paid rent without completely losing her mind every time the letter came. someone who remembered to buy groceries before running out of milk. someone who had somehow survived long enough to become a woman instead of the anxious university girl who always felt like she was desperately trying to catch up with everyone else.

for a long moment, you simply stared at your own reflection, because it still surprised you sometimes how unfamiliar your own face had become. there were fewer dark circles beneath your eyes now and your shoulders no longer lived permanently curled toward your ears. you smiled more easily, more lived in.

your phone buzzed against the bathroom counter.

lily: if you bail i'm literally coming to your apartment

despite yourself, you laughed. "alright." you murmured to the empty apartment. "i'm coming."

⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪

the restaurant occupied the renovated top floor of an old brick warehouse overlooking the river, all warm amber lighting and exposed wooden beams that smelled faintly of cedar and wine. somewhere in the corner, someone had hired a jazz trio to play soft christmas standards that disappeared beneath dozens of overlapping conversations.

the outpatient team had already claimed two long tables near the windows as lily spotted you almost instantly.

"she actually came!" she gasped dramatically, standing up so quickly she nearly knocked over her wine glass.

"i said i would."

"i genuinely didn't believe you." 

"that's a little offensive." 

"i believe it's completely accurate."

daniel looked up from across the table. "look who's voluntarily socializing."

"just... both of you, calm down." you said with a big smile plastered on your face.

"too late." you rolled your eyes, sliding into the empty chair between nurse may and lily.

somehow, the evening unfolded with surprising ease. there was a lot of wine and far too much bread before dinner. someone from physiotherapy confessed to accidentally walking into the wrong patient's family meeting three months earlier and somehow staying through the entire conversation before realizing. even nurse may laughed hard enough that she had to remove her glasses to wipe her eyes. you found yourself laughing too, to the point it left your stomach sore.

at one point, daniel disappeared only to return balancing six tiny desserts because “the kitchen made extras”, as lily insisted everyone rank them. you looked around the table, watching everyone interrupt each other with easy familiarity, and something inside your chest settled.

this was yours. not borrowed, not temporary. for years, you had imagined adulthood as some distant destination where everyone magically stopped feeling afraid. instead, it turned out to look like shared desserts, inside jokes, coworkers arguing over cheesecake. people instinctively saving you the seat beside them because it had simply become your seat. you hadn't fully realized how lonely you had once been until loneliness quietly stopped being your default.

you reached for your wine glass, smiling to yourself, as you heard the restaurant door open again. a burst of freezing december air swept briefly across the room as another large group stepped inside, voices overlapping while they shrugged snow from their coats.

"the research team finally made it." someone near the front called out.

your smile didn't disappear immediately, simply stalling as the glass stopped halfway to your lips. before you even looked, something deep inside your body had already recognized the shift. the old instinct returned with terrifying speed, making your shoulders stiffen and your heartbeat stumble. it wasn't logic, it wasn't reason. it was the same invisible thread that had once taught your nervous system to locate him before your eyes ever did.

slowly, almost against your own will, you turned your head. the research department filtered inside in small clusters, shrugging wool coats off their shoulders and stamping the december cold from their shoes as laughter spilled ahead of them. someone was already apologizing for how late they were. another person was carrying three bottles of wine balanced awkwardly against their chest while everyone argued over where they were supposed to sit.

for a brief, irrational second, you almost convinced yourself he hadn't come. your eyes skimmed over unfamiliar faces. someone from neurology, anna from statistics, dr. cho, another resident you vaguely recognized from the briefing.

and then, there he was. he had stopped just inside the entrance, one hand still wrapped around the strap of his messenger bag, quietly waiting for everyone else to move before he stepped further into the restaurant. he never really had been much of a loud entrance, as he had never had to do that for people to look at him. even now, he instinctively lingered toward the back of the group, waiting for everyone else to find their seats before quietly slipping into one of the empty chairs near the opposite end of the restaurant. someone from cardiology immediately reached over to steal his coat, draping it over the back of another chair before he could protest. another coworker slid a glass of red wine into his hand with an exaggerated grin.

"about time you showed up, sim."

"traffic." he answered simply.

"you've been saying traffic for two years."

jake only gave the smallest shrug before taking a slow sip from his glass, his attention already drifting toward whatever conversation dr. cho had started beside him.

you looked away almost immediately. or at least, you tried to, because for some reason it was embarrassingly difficult. your eyes kept wandering back toward the other side of the room without your permission, catching tiny glimpses between shoulders and half empty wine bottles.

he looked tired, painfully so. even sitting down, his posture carried that same quiet collapse you had noticed since that day at the hospital, his broad shoulders rounded forward as if the weight of the last years had physically settled across his back.

for the first hour, the two of you became experts at pretending the other didn't exist. you laughed with lily, he spoke quietly with his team. you reached for another piece of bread, he accepted another glass of wine. the restaurant buzzed louder around you as more bottles appeared across the tables, conversations dissolving into overlapping stories that no one bothered to finish.

someone convinced the jazz trio to play something more upbeat. chairs scraped across the wooden floor, departments slowly blurring together. and somewhere between the third glass of wine and dessert, something shifted. it was so subtle you almost convinced yourself you had imagined it.

"...that's absolutely not what happened." jake suddenly laughed as you heard his voice. just a short, genuine laugh that escaped him before he seemed to remember himself, one hand instinctively coming up to rub at the bridge of his nose as if he was almost embarrassed by the sound.

your stomach tightened immediately. before you could stop yourself, your eyes wandered back across the room. he looked lighter, only slightly. the exhaustion hadn't disappeared. the dark circles were still there, his shoulders still carried that familiar collapse, and he still looked like someone who hadn't slept properly in months. but the tension around his face had loosened and his posture wasn't so rigid anymore. the wine glass sat forgotten in one hand while the other moved absentmindedly through his hair, and every now and then another small smile slipped past whatever wall he had been holding up all evening.

it was so fleeting, so painfully familiar. for a terrifying moment, you could almost see him again. not the hollow man from the seventh floor, but the boy from the library. the one who used to lean back in his chair after proving an entire lecture wrong. the one whose eyes quietly brightened whenever a discussion became interesting enough to make him forget everyone else was in the room.

your chest ached, because for the first time in months, he didn't just look tired. he looked like himself.

"okay, okay." anna was sitting beside him as she nudged his shoulder with hers. "tell them about the python incident."

jake immediately covered part of his face with one hand. "absolutely not."

"you literally crashed the whole server." 

"temporarily."

"for six hours." 

"still temporarily."

more laughter. she reached over and shoved his shoulder. he shoved hers back, gently. the kind of thoughtless physical familiarity that only existed between people who had spent enough time together. you stared for one second too long, something ugly twisting unexpectedly inside your chest. it wasn't anger, it wasn't even jealousy. not exactly.

in the blink of an eye, he smiled. really smiled. without thinking, your fingers tightened around the stem of your wine glass, the feeling arriving before you could name it. sharp, old, humiliatingly familiar.

it wasn't that anna was beautiful, it wasn't even that they seemed particularly close, you thought. it was something much quieter than that. watching him from across the room suddenly felt exactly like sitting several rows behind him during undergrad. there he was, surrounded by people, responding effortlessly. moving through conversations with that strange, quiet ease you had spent years trying to understand.

and there you were, watching again. your stomach twisted, and it was ridiculous. you weren't twenty anymore, you weren't measuring yourself against the people around him. you had your own table now, your own coworkers, your own life. lily was halfway through telling daniel an impossibly dramatic story beside you, nurse may was arguing with someone from emergency medicine over whether tiramisu counted as a proper dessert, and three people had already saved you a seat without even asking.

you belonged there, you knew you did. so why did your body suddenly forget? why did one glimpse of him smiling make every old insecurity crawl quietly back beneath your skin? it reminded you of every library walk where he somehow managed to make everyone else laugh before answering your questions with impossible seriousness. every hallway where he had effortlessly exchanged conversations with strangers before turning toward you with that unreadable expression that always made your heart start sprinting.

every moment you had wondered why is it always different with me?

the thought slipped into your mind so naturally it frightened you, although it wasn't a new one. it was actually an old thought you had spent years burying beneath degrees, rent payments, patient notes, and carefully constructed adulthood. but apparently, it had never really left.

you took a slow sip of your wine, letting the heavy liquid burn softly down your throat until the glass was nearly empty. you needed the alcohol to work a little faster. you needed it to dull the sharp edge that had taken over your body the second he walked through the door.

lily leaned into your space, completely oblivious to the quiet storm inside your head, her face flushed red from three generous glasses of cabernet. she clinked her glass against yours with enough drunken enthusiasm to spill a few dark droplets onto the wooden table.

"to surviving a full year of institutionalized chaos!" she announced, her speech slurring just enough to prove she was well past her limit.

"to survival." you echoed softly, forcing a small smile that felt a little too loose around the edges.

as the night stretched past eleven, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted. the waiters cleared away the heavy ceramic dinner plates, replacing them with seemingly bottomless carafes of wine, amber glasses of bourbon, and small plates of shared desserts. the jazz trio packed up their instruments, leaving behind a warm hum of overlapping voices, clinking crystal, and unfiltered laughter.

the invisible walls between the departments finally began to dissolve. chairs scraped across the wooden floor as people stood up to stretch, drifting toward other conversations. dr. cho carried two open bottles of red over from the research table, pulling a chair right next to daniel, while a few junior analysts squeezed in near lily. before you fully understood how it had happened, the distinct tables had merged into one giant, chaotic circle.

jake was sitting four seats away from you. he had moved with dr. cho, carrying his glass of whiskey, his coat long forgotten over the back of a distant chair. his dark charcoal sweater was pulled up slightly at the forearms, revealing the sharp lines of his wrists. the alcohol had fully softened him, too. the rigid posture he usually wore like an armor had loosened into something fluid and relaxed. he was leaning back, one ankle resting over his opposite knee, his dark eyes glinting under the warm overhead lanterns as he listened to dr. cho speak.

he still wasn't looking at you directly, but he didn't have to. the air between you felt thick, charged with an invisible static that made your skin prickle every time he shifted in his chair.

"alright, listen up." dr. vance announced, standing up at the head of the merged table and tapping his fork against his water glass. his face was bright red, his tie loosened at the collar. "it is officially past midnight, which means the formal portion of this dinner is dead. before we all start ordering cabs, we're doing the annual game."

a collective groan rippled through the table, followed instantly by boisterous laughter.

"no, listen." dr. vance insisted, waving a hand. "two truths and a lie: clinical training edition. three statements about something embarrassing or unprofessional you did during undergrad or residency. the table votes on the lie."

"this is an hr trap." daniel called out, grinning into his beer. "i refuse to self-incriminate."

the game started off fast and messy, fueled by the sheer volume of alcohol everyone had consumed over the last four hours. daniel confessed to falling asleep inside a sterile supply closet for five hours during an overnight er shift. nurse may admitted she had once accidentally thrown away an entire box of research samples in her first week as a nurse and spent two hours digging through the hospital dumpster to retrieve them.

the room echoed with laughter, glasses sloshing, people shouting out guesses and arguing over who was the worst liar. you laughed along, feeling the heavy warmth of the wine creeping deeper into your veins, softening the sharp corners of your mind until your chest felt pleasantly numb.

and then the rotation reached the far side of the circle.

"sim." dr. vance pointed a finger down the table. "you're up. give us something good. the analytics prodigy must have screwed up at least once in his life."

jake let out a low chuckle, a sound so smooth and gravelly it sent a traitorous wave of heat straight down your spine. he swirled the amber liquid in his glass, looking down for a long moment before tilting his head up. he looked loose, effortless, and entirely too handsome, the dark fringe of his hair falling slightly over his forehead. you hated it so much.

"fine." jake said, his voice carrying easily over the quieted table. "one: i once completely slept through a third year observational trial and woke up with my forehead stuck to my own diagnostic notes." a few people tutted in disbelief. "two." he continued, a faint smirk touching the corner of his lips as he glanced casually toward dr. cho. "i accidentally corrupted a full semester's worth of conditioning data because i let an uncontrolled variable slip into the trial."

"oof, painful." daniel muttered, taking a drink.

"three." jake said softly, swirling his glass, his voice dropping into that magnetic register that used to hold whole lecture halls captive. "i spent an entire night locked inside the third floor library stacks because i refused to leave until i solved a statistical anomaly."

the table immediately erupted into loud debate.

"one!" lily called out instantly. "you would never sleep through a trial, jake."

"no, the library." anna chimed in from beside him, leaning in close enough that her shoulder brushed his sweater, smiling up at him with drunken fondness. "jake wouldn't need to stay a whole night there just to solve that."

jake didn't answer right away. he just sat there, holding his whiskey, letting the smirk linger on his face as he let everyone throw out their guesses. he was clearly enjoying the easy attention, looking every bit like the charming boy from undergrad who always held all the answers.

you sat quietly, your fingers coiled loosely around your glass. the alcohol in your blood was humming softly, stripping away the careful adult mask you had worn all evening. you knew the answer, and you knew it with a devastating certainty. you remembered those third floor library stacks. you remembered the rain against the tall windows, the stacked manuals, and the way he had sat across from you, staring at a set of results that refused to neatly align with his theories. but it hadn't only been a statistical anomaly he was trying to solve. it had been an argument with you. a night where his logic had completely failed him, where his careful control had cracked under the weight of something he couldn't measure or code.

and you remembered the conditioning trial, too. there hadn't been an uncontrolled variable.

you didn't shout. you just leaned back slightly in your chair, your voice soft, almost offhand, as if you were merely offering a passing observation about lab methodology.

"it's two." you murmured into the lull of the conversation. you were clearly drunker than you thought, because sober, you would have bitten your tongue raw before saying anything that publicly linked your name to jake's. you were the one who had built the wall between you in the first place, forcing the silence on the distance. but watching him sit there — so relaxed, giving away his quiet charm to everyone else after all this time — a petty needle twisted under your skin. you needed to prove, if only to him, that despite the cold front, you still held the blueprint to who he actually was. that no one else at this table knew him deeper than you did.

jake’s head snapped toward you. the lazy smirk on his face vanished in a single second. the relaxed posture melted away, his broad frame going rigidly still as his dark eyes locked onto yours across the small gap separating your chairs.

"what makes you say that, y/n?" dr. vance asked, looking amused, taking a slow sip of his drink.

you didn't break jake's gaze. you offered an indifferent shrug, your face remarkably calm, light, and perfectly unbothered, though your pulse was thumping a rapid beat in your throat. you let him see the quiet weight in your eyes — a message meant exclusively for him, completely invisible to everyone else at the table.

"because his data is always clean." you said softly, your tone smooth and conversational. "he doesn't let variables slip in by accident. he only abandons a trial when he realizes he can't control the outcome."

a light chuckle went around your side of the table. "damn, spoken like a true former lab mate." daniel joked, taking another sip of his beer, completely missing the radioactive underlying current. "she's got your number, sim."

dr. cho laughed softly, clapping jake on the shoulder. "she's right, jake! you never make reckless mistakes in methodology. you just scrap the whole project when it gets complicated!"

the rest of the table laughed along, accepting the comment as nothing more than a witty jab at his well known academic perfectionism.

but jake didn't laugh. he sat completely frozen, his fingers tightening around his whiskey glass until his knuckles turned a sharp white. the effortless charm he had been displaying all evening was completely gone, stripped away by two quiet sentences that no one else in the room understood.

he stared at you across the dark wood, his dark eyes wide and burning with an intensity that made the rest of the noisy restaurant fade into complete background noise. to the rest of the hospital staff, you had just made a clever joke about his undergrad work ethic. but to jake, you had just looked him dead in the eye and told him that you knew exactly who he was.

the game dragged to a messy, awkward close. jake eventually confirmed the lie with a quiet nod, forcing a faint smile that vanished the second people stopped looking at him. after that, he completely checked out. he just sat back in his chair, staring into the ice melting in his glass, letting the drunken chatter flow right over him.

you noticed every single second of it, of course you did. and you hated yourself for it. you hated that even after four glasses of wine, your brain was still wired to track every micro-shift in his posture.

by one in the morning, the restaurant was finally emptying out. people were slurring affectionate goodbyes by the coat rack, making ridiculous promises for weekend plans no one would keep. lily had disappeared to the bathroom with two pediatric nurses twenty minutes ago.

your head was swimming, your chest tight and claustrophobic from the heat of the room and the great amount of alcohol in your body, so you pushed open the side door and walked outside. the december air hit you like a physical punch. it ripped the warmth straight from your skin, replacing it with a freezing draft that burned your throat and made your eyes water. you leaned your forearms against the cold iron railing, staring down at the churning water from the river below, letting the cold air try to sober you up.

the heavy metal door behind you creaked open, then slammed shut against the frame.

you didn't even have to turn around. the smell of cold wool, dark rain, and bitter whiskey reached you before he even took a step.

"you just had to do that, didn't you?" jake said. his voice wasn't gentle. it wasn't quiet or tragically polite. it was rough, raspy, and thick with alcohol, carrying a defensive bite that cut straight through the freezing wind.

you slowly turned around, resting your back against the iron railing. he was standing four feet away under the dull yellow bulb of the emergency light. his coat was unbuttoned, his dark hair messy and blowing in the wind, his hands jammed aggressively into his pockets. his face was flushed from the cold and the whiskey, his dark eyes wide, bloodshot, and completely stripped of that calm composure he had spent all evening hiding behind.

"do what, jake?" you asked, your voice trembling from the cold, the wine and the anxiety, but your chin tilted up, refusing to back down.

"back there." he snapped, taking an erratic step toward you. "the little commentary on my data. you just couldn't help yourself, could you? you had to sit there in front of the whole department and make sure everyone knew you had some secret, superior insight into how my brain works."

a sharp laugh escaped your throat, turning to mist in the freezing night. "are you serious?" you hissed, stepping out of the shadow of the railing, right into his space. "you sat at that table for two hours giving everyone else your charming little routine, telling a cute little story about undergrad like it was some funny glitch in your pristine record. you were rewriting it, jake. you sat there acting like it was all just lab work, like it was nothing!"

"because it has to be!" he shouted, his voice cracking violently, the loud sound echoing off the wet brick walls of the alley. he looked completely unraveled, his jaw clenching so hard you could hear his teeth grind together, the sheer chaos of his state finally spilling over. "you think i want to stand in front of twenty people and talk about how it actually was?" he rasped, his eyes burning into yours with a terrifying intensity. "you think i want dr. vance or anna or daniel looking at me and knowing that i spent years obsessed with you? you think i want a room full of coworkers knowing that you're the reason i haven't slept a full night in-?"

the admission hit the cold air like a physical blow. the breath vanished from your lungs, your heart hammering a wild beat against your ribs. "what the fuck are you saying, jake-"

"no, y/n, listen to me." he choked out, quieter now. "you act like you're the only one who got wrecked. you stand here looking at me like i'm some cold, unfeeling bastard who walked away without a second thought. but you're the one who ran! you packed your bags, you left the town, you deleted your number, and you built this whole neat new life where you get to pretend i was just a bad habit you outgrew!"

"i ran because i had no choice!" you screamed back, tears finally spilling over your lashes, scalding hot against your frozen cheeks as you forced yourself not to punch his chest. the alcohol was making your entire body shake, dissolving whatever polite restraint you had left. "i also ran because staying near you was making me lose my fucking mind. and i genuinely do not understand why you would even look at me like... like i broke your heart!"

"because you did!" jake roared as he surged forward, his hands flying out to grip the freezing iron railing on either side of your head. he caged you in completely, his tall frame blocking out the streetlights, his chest heaving erratically just inches from yours. "you were breaking it every single day! and you're still doing it, y/n."

he stopped, his breathing coming in ragged hitches that tore through the quiet night air. the sudden, explosive burst of anger seemed to completely drain him, leaving nothing behind but a hollow exhaustion. his broad shoulders slumped forward and he dropped his head, staring blankly at the metal grate beneath your boots as if he couldn't bear to look at your face anymore.

"i can't do this." he whispered, his voice dropping into a ruined scrape that almost sounded like a plea. he squeezed his eyes shut, his knuckles turning an intense white against the black iron. "i can't sit at a dinner table and watch you laugh with everybody else. i can't watch you build a life that i'm not allowed to touch. and i definitely can't sit there while you drop little pieces of our past into the conversation like it's just some lighthearted trivia."

"why?" you choked out. your hands moved entirely on their own, pulling out of your warm pockets to grab the heavy wool lapels of his open coat. you twisted the fabric into your fists, holding onto him because the ground beneath you suddenly felt like it was violently tilting. "why does it hurt you so much?" you begged, your voice shattering on the last word, the sharp december wind stinging the tear tracks on your face as you forced him to finally look at you.

jake pulled his head back just an inch, his hand sliding down to wrap his cold fingers tightly around your wrist, squeezing until the pulse thumping against his palm was impossible to ignore. he stared down into your eyes with an expression of unadulterated ruin — his dark irises wide, bloodshot, and completely devoid of any remaining pride.

"because every time you open your mouth and mention back then..." he whispered, his voice cracking on a painful exhale. "it proves you remember everything. it proves it wasn't a bad dream i made up in my head to keep myself awake at night. you were real. we were real."

he swallowed hard, the sharp line of his throat bobbing as a furious tear finally escaped his lashes, tracking down the high curve of his pale cheek. he didn't wipe it away. he didn't care that he was completely unraveling under that dull yellow light, bleeding out in front of the only person who had ever known how to dismantle him.

"and knowing that you remember it..." he choked out, his chest heaving as he pulled your trapped hand up, pressing your palm flat against the erratic pounding over his own heart. "and knowing you still walked away... knowing you're standing here right now, alive and whole and surviving just fine without me, tells me that i'm the only one who didn't make it out of that library alive."

the frantic rhythm of his heart beating against your palm felt like a live wire. it burned through the freezing cold, through the thick haze of the wine, straight into your bones. you stared at him, at the single tear tracking down his cheek, and the sheer gravity of what he had just confessed threatened to crush you completely.

you couldn't breathe. the alleyway spun around you, the ground tipping dangerously beneath your boots. if you had been sober, you might have folded into him. you might have let the grief swallow you both whole. but the alcohol in your bloodstream was a vicious thing, magnifying your terror as much as your longing. if you believed him now — if you let yourself lean into this unguarded version of him — you would be gambling everything. because tomorrow, when he was sober, he could take it all back. and that would kill you. you wouldn't survive a second heartbreak.

"no." you breathed out, your voice trembling so violently you could barely form the word. you tried to pull your hand away, but his grip was iron tight, his fingers digging into your wrist like he was drowning.

"jake, stop." you pleaded, shaking your head frantically. "stop talking. you're drunk."

"so are you." he rasped, refusing to let go, his dark eyes searching your face with a desperate starvation.

"which is exactly why we can't do this!" you cried, finally wrenching your hand out of his grasp with enough force that you stumbled a half step backward, your shoes slipping slightly on the icy grate.

the sudden loss of contact made the freezing december air rush back in, biting viciously at your skin. you wrapped your arms tightly around your own waist, shivering violently, trying to hold your own ribcage together.

"we're drunk, jake." you choked out, the tears freezing as they fell down your cheeks. "you've had god knows how much whiskey, my head is completely spinning, and you're standing out here in the freezing cold telling me that i destroyed you. what am i supposed to do with that? what do you want me to say?"

"i want you to believe me!" he shouted, throwing his hands up in a sudden burst of frustration, his balance wavering just a fraction. he ran a shaking hand fiercely through his windblown hair, looking entirely lost. "i want you to stop acting like i'm making this up! y-you always fucking do this, y/n."

"but how can i believe you?!" you yelled back, your chest heaving, the raw truth finally ripping its way out of your throat. "you want me to believe this? now? after years of complete silence? you want me to accept this just because we had a few drinks and your perfect pride finally slipped?"

jake flinched. the accusation hit him squarely, stripping away the frantic energy and leaving him looking incredibly hollow. "you think this is just the alcohol?" he asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet rasp.

"i think the alcohol is the only reason you're talking at all." you shot back, your voice breaking on a sob you couldn't swallow down. "tomorrow morning, the whiskey is going to wear off. and you're going to go right back to being the untouchable sim jake. you're going to walk past me in that damn hallway and you are going to regret every single word you just said."

"that's bullshit, y/n, and you know it." he snapped, taking another unsteady step toward you, the anger flaring back up in his dark eyes.

"is it?" you challenged, stepping back until your spine hit the brick wall of the alley, leaving nowhere else to run. "we've spent months treating each other like strangers. you flagged my files, i ignored you in meetings, you looked right through me. and now you expect me to just... what? forget everything because you had too much bourbon and decided to feel sorry for yourself?"

jake stopped dead in his tracks. he looked at you for an agonizing moment, the mist curling between your bodies in the freezing dark. the anger in his face slowly died, replaced by a devastating defeat. he looked like a man who had just played his very last card, only to realize the game had been over for years.

"you really think that little of me." he whispered. it wasn't a question. it was a surrender.

"i think we're both a mess." you cried softly, swiping angrily at your wet cheeks, though the tears just kept coming. "i think we're completely wrecked. and i think if we keep doing this tonight, if we keep standing out here tearing each other apart while we can barely stand straight, we're going to permanently destroy whatever functional pieces we have left."

jake didn't argue. he didn't surge forward again, and he didn't try to touch you. he just stood there in the cold, his coat blowing in the wind, staring at you with an expression so hopelessly sad it made your stomach physically hurt. the alcohol was still humming loudly in your veins, making the silence between you feel dizzying and thick. there was no resolution, there was no comfort. there was just the bitter cold, the heavy smell of whiskey, and the terrifying realization that you were both bleeding out, and neither of you had any idea how to stop it.

the heavy metal door behind jake suddenly flew open with a loud clang, the sharp sound slicing through the suffocating silence like a knife.

"hey! there you guys- whoa." daniel staggered out onto the small space, his tie completely undone and hanging loosely around his neck, a lopsided drunken grin plastered across his flushed face. he was holding a half empty bottle of cheap champagne by the neck, his balance wavering just enough that he had to grab the doorframe to steady himself. he was completely oblivious to the wreckage he had just walked into.

"man, it is like... polar vortex out here." daniel slurred, shivering dramatically as he looked between the two of you. his eyes were unfocused, blinking slowly in the dim yellow glow of the emergency light. "what are you guys doing? having a secret research meeting without me? that's... that's academic betrayal, sim."

the snap of the reality shift was instantaneous, violent, and physically sickening. the exact second daniel’s boots hit the metal grating, the raw version of jake vanished. it was like watching a shutter slam down over a window. his broad shoulders instantly went rigid, his jaw locking into a tight line as he took a deliberate step back from you, pulling himself out of your space entirely.

he turned his head away, his long fingers flying up to aggressively rub at his eyes, wiping away the trace of that furious tear before daniel could track it. when he dropped his hand, his face was a mask of unreadable exhaustion. but it was clumsy, frayed around the edges by the sheer volume of whiskey in his system.

you froze against the brick wall, your heart slamming frantically against your ribs. your hands were still shaking so violently you had to shove them deep into your coat pockets just to hide the tremors. you choked down a ragged sob, the taste of wine and bile burning the back of your throat as you forced your face into something that hopefully resembled sobriety.

"we were just getting some air, daniel." you said, your voice coming out thin.

"air? you're gonna freeze your liquid assets off." daniel chuckled, entirely amused by his own terrible joke. he staggered a step closer, swinging the champagne bottle loosely. "everyone's bailing. you guys want to split an uber to the north side?"

"i'm fine." jake cut in. his voice was a low rasp, entirely stripped of the roaring anger from moments ago, but carrying a vibrating tension that made your chest ache. he wouldn't look at you. he kept his dark eyes fixed firmly on the collar of daniel's shirt, his hands jammed back into his unbuttoned coat. "i'm walking." jake muttered, his speech just slightly thicker than usual, betraying how drunk he actually was.

"walking? sim, it's literally freezing rain." daniel laughed, reaching out to cloddishly pat jake's shoulder. "don't be a hero. come on."

"i said i'm walking, daniel." jake snapped. the sudden edge in his tone made daniel blink, his drunken grin faltering for a fraction of a second as he sensed the radioactive field of tension vibrating between the two of you.

jake didn't wait for a response. he finally turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto your face for one final second. there was no anger left in his gaze. there was only that same hopeless ruin. a quiet warning that everything you had just done out here was going to follow you both into the morning.

he blew past daniel, his heavy shoulder brushing yours as he pushed open the metal door and vanished back into the warmth of the restaurant, leaving nothing behind but the fading scent of cold wool and bitter bourbon. the door clicked shut.

"man…" daniel muttered, shaking his head slowly as he took a swing from the champagne bottle. "he is always so... intense. i don't know how you survived being his research partner, y/n. guy needs to learn how to relax."

you didn't answer. you couldn't. you just turned back to the iron railing, gripping the freezing metal until your knuckles ached, staring blindly out at the river below. the hot tears were finally flowing freely now, spilling over your lashes and biting into your cold skin, but daniel just thought you were shivering from the wind.

you were entirely unraveled, the heavy haze of the wine making the ache in your chest feel double its size. you knew you were right. tomorrow the sun would come up and the hospital walls would turn that sterile, sage green again. and neither of you had any idea how to survive the wreckage of tonight.

the ride home in the back of daniel’s uber was a sickening blur. daniel wouldn't stop talking about the department's upcoming budget review, his voice a slurred drone that did nothing to drown out the looping thoughts in your own head. you pressed your cheek against the freezing glass of the window, staring at the blurred streetlights, your hand shoved deep into your coat pocket. your wrist still ached where jake’s fingers had clamped down, and your palm felt hot, branded by the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.

i’m the only one who didn't make it out of that library alive.

the words felt like a physical weight on your chest, keeping you awake until the sky turned a bruised gray.

⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪

when you went into the hospital the next day, the walls you had spent years building felt incredibly thin. you spent your morning sessions sitting across from people, trying to help them untangle their lives while your own mind kept drifting to the floors above you. jake was up there, tucked away in the data lab, probably staring at spreadsheets and mapping out human choices into predictable numbers. you knew how his mind worked — he used logic to control everything, hiding behind data until his emotions were buried too deep to find.

you ran into him on monday by the elevators. he was carrying a stack of reports, his lab coat buttoned all the way up, looking every bit like the detached, analytical researcher everyone expected him to be. when he saw you, his posture went completely rigid. you watched his eyes drop to your hands, then snap back up to your face, his jaw tight.

"morning." he said. his voice was clipped, perfectly formal. he gave you a professional nod as the elevator doors opened, stepping inside without waiting to see if you were getting on too.

he was overcompensating. you knew it, and he knew you knew it. it was a textbook display of emotional avoidance, and the deliberate distance made your blood boil. for the next three days, you both played the game perfectly. you over-corrected your posture when you passed his lab, and he looked straight through you when he came down to the clinical floor to drop off files. you were both weaponizing your training, pulling away with a fierce intentionality because admitting that that that night had happened meant admitting how completely unsafe you were around each other.

by thursday night, the hospital felt entirely claustrophobic.

a massive winter storm had hit the city, coating the streets in black ice and causing a power surge that knocked out the central servers. because the digital network was down, the department was forced to rely on physical records for the emergency cases coming in from the icy roads.

at eleven o'clock, you were down in the basement archives — a narrow, windowless vault filled with rows of heavy steel shelves containing years of old patient files and intake sheets. the air down there was freezing, smelling heavily of old paper, dust, and ozone from the backup generators humming faintly through the vents.

you were standing near the back of the longest aisle, your fingers stiff as you flicked through a drawer, trying to find a specific baseline evaluation.

the heavy electronic lock on the vault door suddenly clicked, the sound echoing loudly in the silence. you didn't turn around. you forced yourself to keep looking at the files, even as the slow thud of boots grew closer, accompanied by the distinct scent of cedar and the bitter edge of the black coffee he always drank when he was working late.

jake stopped at the entrance of your aisle. he had taken off his lab coat, wearing just a dark sweater with the sleeves pushed up his forearms. he looked exhausted, his hair messy from where he had clearly been running his fingers through it, and his dark eyes were shadowed with fatigue.

"vance sent me down." jake said, his voice a rough baritone that felt entirely too loud in the cramped space. "the emergency intake needs the comparative data for the patient in bed four. i told him i'd find the physical chart."

"it's in row c." you said, your voice tight, keeping your back to him as you shoved a file back into the drawer. "this is row e. you're in the wrong section, jake."

he didn't move. you could hear his steady breathing, a heavy contrast to the frantic skipping of your own pulse. "i know what row i'm in, y/n." he murmured.

the sheer stubbornness in his tone made you snap. you dropped your hands from the cabinet and turned around, your spine hitting the cold metal structure behind you. "then why are you standing here?" you asked, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to sound detached. "we established a pattern this week, jake. we do the professional nods. we don't look at each other. it was working fine."

"it wasn't working fine." he rasped, taking a slow, deliberate step into the aisle. the space was so narrow that his broad shoulders nearly brushed the shelves on either side. "you've been watching me every time i walk into a room. i can feel you calculating the distance from across the hallway, y/n. you're looking at me like i'm a clinical problem you need to solve."

"and what are you doing?" you challenged, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, trying to ignore how his physical proximity was suddenly making the air feel thick and warm. "you're pretending that if you just keep your lab coat buttoned up and stare at your data sheets long enough, you can erase what you said to me the other night.”

jake stopped just two feet away from you. his height completely blocked out the low light from the main vault corridor, casting a long shadow over your body. he looked down at you, his jaw clenching so hard a small muscle twitched in his cheek.

"i can't erase it." he whispered, his speech just a fraction slower than usual, thick with the weight of a week's worth of insomnia. "that's the whole damn problem. i've spent five days trying to look at my work, and all i see is how much i want to touch you."

"don't… don’t fucking say that." you breathed, a sudden wave of panic hitting your chest. you tried to push past him, your shoulder catching his chest as you attempted to navigate the narrow space, but he didn't move an inch. he was a wall of solid heat. "jake, let me out. it's just the stress from the storm, we're both tired and-"

"stop making excuses." he growled, his hand snapping out to grip the edge of the shelf right beside your neck. his fingers flexed against the cold steel, his knuckles turning white. he leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours, his dark eyes wide and dangerous. "and stop running from me. you're doing the exact same thing you always do. the second things get real, you pull back and look for an exit."

"because staying here ruins me!" you hissed back, your hands coming up to press against his shoulders, not to pull him closer, but to frantically hold him at bay. you could feel the hard line of his collarbone beneath the wool of his sweater, the heat of his skin burning through the fabric into your palms. "you think you're the only one who's terrified? i spend all day trying to keep myself together, and the minute i look at you, i completely lose my mind. we are a bad idea, jake."

"i don't care." he choked out, his voice cracking violently on the words. he took that final half step, completely eliminating the remaining distance between you. his chest pressed flush against your hands, pushing against your resistance until your back was pinned flat against the metal cabinet. he didn't touch you with his hands yet, as they were still gripping the shelves on either side of your head, caging you in completely. but his entire body was a suffocating pressure against yours.

you let out a broken gasp, your chin tilting up involuntarily as his face dropped into the hollow of your neck. his breath was hot, fast, and smelling of coffee, fanning across your sensitive skin and making a violent shiver tear through your entire frame.

"tell me to go to row c." he whispered fiercely against your skin, his lips brushing the column of your throat as he spoke, his teeth grazing your pulse point just enough to make your knees go weak. "say you don't want this, and i'll walk away. i'm giving you the choice."

your fingers twitched against his shoulders, your nails digging deep into the thick fabric of his sweater. you wanted to push him away. you wanted to save yourself from the inevitable wreckage that was coming. but the physical reality of him — the weight of his body, the desperate sound of his breathing — was a hunger you had been suppressing for so much time.

"i hate you." you whispered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his forehead lean heavily against yours, his dark hair brushing your brow.

"i know." jake rasped, his hand finally leaving the metal shelf to wrap his cold fingers tightly around the back of your neck, tilting your face up to his. "i know."

for a fraction of a second, nobody moved. the space between your lips was a vacuum, thick with the smell of damp wool and the metallic hum of the archive basement. his dark eyes searched yours, wide and bloodshot, looking for a single reason to stop — a slight pull of your chin, a tensing of your spine, anything. but you didn't move, you couldn't. the lie had run its course, and the devastating weight of it seemed to leave both of you suspended in mid air. your thumb twitched against the knit of his sweater, a subconscious permission that he caught instantly.

the shift was sudden and terrifying. the fragile safety of the quiet room fractured down the middle as jake’s grip on your neck tightened, his control completely evaporating into the cold air.

the kiss was violent. it wasn't gentle, it wasn't a soft reconciliation. instead, it was an angry collision of two people who had been starving in the dark for years.

he shoved you backward, your hips hitting the edge of the cabinet hard as he crowded his entire weight into you, caging you between his body and the metal. his hands ripped themselves from yours, one flying to the back of your neck, his long fingers tangling fiercely into your hair to tilt your head back, while his other hand gripped your waist so tightly it would leave bruises by morning.

you moaned into his mouth, a desperate sound, your hands flying up to tear at the front of his sweater. you needed the barrier gone. you needed to feel the heat of his skin against yours to prove he was real, that this wasn't another cruel dream your brain had manufactured in the quiet hours of the night.

"y/n." he groaned against your lips, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, tasting of bitter coffee and pure desperation. he kissed you harder, deeper, devouring you until your knees buckled beneath you, his heavy thigh instantly slotting between yours to hold you up against the shelves.

the friction was agonizingly perfect. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down, arching your back into his heavy frame as his mouth left yours, tearing down the column of your throat. he bit sharply at the junction of your neck and shoulder, making you gasp, your fingers digging deep into the muscles of his back.

"i hate you so much, jake." you cried out, your head tossing back against the metal shelves as his hands moved down, aggressively bunching up the fabric of your skirt.

"hate me all you want, please.” he rasped, his breath burning against your collarbone as he ripped open the first three buttons of your shirt, his chest heaving. he looked up at you, his dark eyes entirely unhinged, wild with a desperate hunger that made your stomach clench pleasantly.

he didn't give you a single second to catch your breath. his mouth crashed back onto yours again, messier this time, open and wet and completely frantic. his large hand slid higher up your thigh, his rough fingers finally slipping past the hem of your skirt and finding bare skin. the sudden contrast of his burning touch against the freezing basement air made a high noise tear out of your throat, a sound he swallowed instantly with his mouth.

you finally got your hands under his sweater, your palms flattening against the rapid rise and fall of his bare chest. his skin was scorching hot, his heart hammering a violent rhythm against your fingertips. he wasn't calm. the meticulous, controlled data analyst was completely gone, completely destroyed, replaced by a man who was shaking just as badly as you were.

"jake." you whimpered, your nails lightly dragging down the center of his chest, exploring the heavy muscle there.

he shuddered violently at the contact, a guttural groan vibrating deep in his throat. his heavy thigh pressed harder between yours, applying a blunt pressure right where you were aching the most, forcing your hips to completely tilt up into his. you dug your heels into the dusty floor to keep from sliding down the cabinet, entirely at his mercy.

"four years." he breathed heavily against your lips, his voice a ruined scrape as his thumb traced the edge of your underwear, dragging slowly over the fabric to feel the damp heat of you beneath it. "four fucking years of pretending i didn't know exactly what this felt like. have you thought about it, huh? about how well you took me in your mouth in that classroom? mmh?"

you gasped, arching off the cold metal so forcefully your spine bowed. his fingers were slightly clumsy with sheer desperation, completely wrecking whatever fragile composure you had left. you tangled your fingers into his messy hair, pulling him closer, holding his mouth to yours like it was the only oxygen left in the room.

"don't think." you begged, tears of overwhelming relief and frustration suddenly stinging the corners of your eyes, blurring the harsh fluorescent light above. "just don't think about it, jake. please don't stop."

"i couldn't stop if i tried, y/n. i’m completely sick with you." he confessed, kissing the salt of a tear off your cheek before trailing bruising kisses down your jawline.

he shifted his grip suddenly, his strong hands grabbing your hips to hike you up effortlessly onto the waist high metal filing cabinet. the cold steel bit into the back of your bare thighs, a shocking contrast to the suffocating heat of his body as he stepped directly between your parted knees.

he caged you in perfectly, his broad chest pressing flush against yours, his hands moving frantically over your body like he was trying to memorize you all over again. he pushed your shirt off your shoulders, letting it pool uselessly around your elbows, his lips finding the exposed skin of your collarbone. he sucked hard, his teeth scraping against the sensitive column of your throat, deliberately leaving a dark mark that he knew you would have to hide under high necked sweaters for a week.

it was territorial, it was entirely unprofessional, and it made you completely lose your mind. you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, crossing your ankles behind his back to anchor him to you, pulling his hips flush against yours. you ground down against the thick denim of his jeans, chasing the friction, chasing the physical weight of him until you were both just shaking, breathing the same dusty air, actively choosing to ruin each other all over again in the dark.

his hand didn’t stay on the outside of the lace for long. the frantic friction of your hips against his was driving you both to the edge of sanity, but it wasn't enough. it was nowhere near enough. jake let out a harsh curse, pulling his mouth away from yours just far enough to look at you. his chest heaved, his dark hair falling into his eyes, entirely disheveled and completely ruined.

"i need to touch you." he rasped, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly low register. "i need to see if you feel the same way you did back then."

you didn't even get a chance to gasp before his rough fingers hooked under the damp edge of your underwear, pulling the thin fabric aside and sliding directly into you. you shattered immediately. a loud cry tore from your lungs, bouncing off the heavy steel walls of the archive as your head threw back against the shelves. he was completely relentless. his long fingers pushed deep, almost too familiar with how your body worked, moving with a precise rhythm that completely short-circuited your brain.

every single coping mechanism, every boundary, every professional defence you had built over the last four years dissolved instantly under the slide of his hand.

"jake, fuck-" you sobbed, your nails biting into his broad shoulders, your legs trembling violently where they were still locked behind his back.

"shhh." he breathed, though his own voice was shaking just as badly. he leaned in, his lips pressing hot kisses to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing the frantic pulse there as his fingers stroked you faster, deeper. "i've got you. i've got you. you're so fucking wet for me, doc. you missed me this much?"

the clinical nickname was a hot twist of the knife. he was doing it on purpose, weaponizing your shared profession, deliberately blurring the lines between the sterile hospital above and the dirty reality of the basement.

"yes." you admitted, the word an unraveled plea, your hips involuntarily chasing the movement of his hand. "yes, god, i missed you. i missed you so much."

that admission snapped the very last thread holding him together as he withdrew his hand completely. the sudden loss of friction was so jarring you let out an embarrassing whine, your hips instinctively tipping forward to chase his empty hand.

"shhh, don't cry." he murmured, though his chest was heaving, his voice thick with a dark satisfaction. "what happened to my clever little psychologist?"

the sharp metallic clink of his belt buckle echoed loudly in the tight space, followed by the heavy hiss of his zipper. you reached down, desperate to help him, desperate to speed up the agonizing process, but he caught both of your wrists in one large hand, pinning them firmly against the cold metal cabinet above your head.

"y/n." he breathed, stepping into the space you had just created, pressing the blunt heat of him directly against your entrance. "you've been running the show all week. you wouldn't even look at me in the elevator on monday."

he rolled his hips forward just a fraction — not enough to go inside, just enough to drag right over your most sensitive spot. you choked on a gasp, your spine bowing entirely off the metal.

"is this what you were thinking about when you were giving me those polite little nods, doc?" he whispered, his lips grazing your ear, his breath hot and completely ragged. "while you were sitting in your office, playing the perfect professional... were you thinking about how easily i can tear you apart?"

"jake, please-" you begged, the words tumbling out of your mouth without a single thought for pride or preservation. you tried to pull your wrists free, your legs tightening around his narrow waist as you tried to force him deep inside you, but his grip was iron clad. he wasn't going to make this easy. he was going to make you pay for every single day of silence.

"please what?" he taunted, though his own restraint was clearly killing him, a heavy muscle jumping frantically in his sharp jaw. he dragged against you again, a slow friction that made black spots dance in your vision. you let out a broken sob, your nails digging into your own palms where he held them pinned. "use your clinical vocabulary, y/n. tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."

"fuck you." you cried out, tears of sheer frustration spilling over your lashes, mixing with the sweat on your skin.

"i'm about to." he promised, his voice dropping into a low growl that vibrated straight through your chest. "but you're going to ask for it first. you're going to admit that you're just as obsessed with me as i am with you."

he released your wrists, but only so his hands could drop to your waist, his long fingers digging into your hips to hold you completely still. he rocked against you once more, entirely deliberately, making sure you felt exactly how thick and ready his cock was, how close you were to having what you had been starving for.

"say it." he demanded, his dark eyes burning into yours, completely unhinged in the dim basement light. "you owe me this. say it."

"i'm obsessed with you." you sobbed, your hands flying down to grip his shoulders, your fingernails biting into the thick wool of his sweater. "i want you, jake. i want you so fucking much, please, just put it in. please."

he let out a ragged, tearing sound from the very bottom of his chest, completely undone by the sound of you begging.

"that’s it, my love.” he rasped, and drove his hips forward, sinking completely and devastatingly deep inside of you in one long thrust. the unexpected nickname made your cheeks flush even harder, making your face feel so hot it scared you.

the sheer fullness of his cock stretching you open was a violent shock to your system, stealing the remaining oxygen straight out of your lungs. you buried your face in the crook of his neck, your teeth his skin just to muffle the breathless sob that escaped you. jake went entirely still, his forehead dropping against yours, his upper body trembling with the sheer effort it took not to lose his mind completely. he was buried so deep it felt devastating, his heartbeat a chaotic thudding against your chest.

for a long moment, he didn't move. he just stayed deep inside you, letting your body adapt to his weight, his eyes tightly shut as he swallowed hard, trying to claw back some semblance of his usual restraint.

but you could feel the truth of him. you could feel the ragged vibration of his pulse, the way his fingers were dug so fiercely into your waist that his knuckles were white. the cool, analytical researcher was drowning, and the realization gave you an intoxicating surge of confidence through the haze of your own pleasure.

you slowly shifted your hips on the edge of the cabinet, a deliberate tight squeeze around him.

jake flinched, his entire body jerking as a strangled sound tore from his throat. his eyes snapped open, dark and completely wild, warning you to stop.

"what's the matter, jake?" you whispered, your voice a shaky tease as you leaned back just enough to look at him. your fingers trailed up his chest, your nails lightly catching on the skin of his neck, tracing the line of his collarbone. "a-are you going to cum just like this or what?”

"y/n." he warned, his voice a dangerous vibration, his hips twitching involuntarily against yours.

"y-you spent all week hiding up in your lab, pretending i didn't exist... and now you can barely even breathe just from standing inside me?” you murmured, tilting your chin up, your eyes dropping to his mouth before locking back onto his blown pupils.

an unhinged smile flickered across his lips, though his jaw remained rigid. he leaned down, his mouth brushing against yours, tasting of salt and heat. "you think you're so clever, don't you? you always have." he rasped, his hands tightening on your waist with a bruising pressure that made you gasp. "you want to test my limits? let's see how well you can keep that smart mouth running when you can't even think straight."

before you could reply, he pulled back and drove into you again, his pace suddenly turning brutal and completely unyielding. the first hard thrust knocked the wind clean out of you. the heavy metal filing cabinet groaned violently under your combined weight, a loud rattle that echoed sharply down the narrow aisle. your hands flew back to grip the cold edge of the steel behind you, your knuckles turning white as he hammered into you with a punishing rhythm that made it entirely impossible to form a coherent thought.

any trace of your smug satisfaction evaporated into a ragged sob. he wasn't teasing anymore. the dam had completely cracked, and the flood was tearing both of you apart. the friction was sudden and blistering, the thick denim of his unzipped jeans scraping against your bare thighs, a chaotic mix of freezing metal and sweat slicked skin.

"jake- ah! jake, wait." you choked out, your head slamming back against the shelf behind you as he hit you deeper, driving himself into you like he was trying to fuse his body with yours.

"no." he growled, his voice completely wrecked, his face burying into the crook of your neck. he was panting like a dying man, his teeth grazing over your collarbone, leaving wet marks as his hips slammed relentlessly against yours. "no more waiting. i'm so fucking done with the space between us."

he shifted his grip, his large hands sliding under your thighs to lift you higher off the metal, pulling you completely flush against him so he could bury himself even deeper. the sheer desperation in his movements was staggering. he was clawing at you, devouring your mouth in messy kisses that tasted of unadulterated hunger. you could feel the heavy trembling in his arms, the tight strain of his muscles as he held you up, completely consumed by the need to be closer.

you couldn't think, you couldn't analyze. your legs wrapped even tighter around his waist, your ankles locking behind his back as you began to meet him stroke for desperate stroke. you ground yourself down against him, chasing the blinding heat, your hands leaving the cabinet to tear at his hair. every impact was deep and heavy, a blunt ache that centered in your lower stomach and radiated outward until your whole body was shaking.

"look at me." he commanded, his voice a broken rasp. he pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes glassy with sweat and pure yearning in the dim basement light. he was staring at you like you were his only lifeline in a room that was running out of air. "look at what you do to me. tell me you feel it. tell me you're drowning too."

"i am!" you cried out, a tear finally slipping down your cheek as your hips rolled into his, meeting a brutal thrust that made your vision tilt and white out at the edges. "jake, please... i can't... i'm going to-"

"good." he choked out, a sob-like sound catching in his throat as he pushed even harder, his chest heaving violently against yours. "don't think. just take me. take all of it.”

the rhythm turned entirely chaotic, completely stripped of any calculation or restraint. every slam of his hips was a beautiful shockwave that travelled straight up your spine. he was completely unravelled now, his teeth digging into your shoulder, biting hard enough to leave a permanent mark.

"jake, jake, please." you sobbed into his ear, your fingernails tearing at the skin of his neck, drawing faint red lines. your vision was blurring into unreadable shapes, the light overhead spinning in dizzying circles. the pressure building in your lower stomach was too intense, too heavy to survive. you were right on the edge, teetering over a drop that felt miles deep.

"i'm right here. look at me, y/n. don't close your eyes." he choked out, his voice dropping into a feral whisper. his long fingers dug so hard into your thighs that they left deep marks in your flesh.

you forced your lids open, looking into the fractured expanse of his eyes. he looked entirely unhinged, wild with a desperate hunger that was terrifyingly beautiful. he was watching you go under, tracking every twitch of your face, every ragged intake of your breath.

"jake-" you didn't even finish the sentence. your walls spasmed, tightening around him in a sudden wave of contractions that ripped a shattered scream from your throat. you buried your face in his neck, your teeth sinking into his shoulder as your entire body went completely rigid, formatting itself around the blinding ecstasy of the release.

the absolute fullness of him inside you during those few seconds was staggering, a sharp crest that made your brain go entirely quiet. that crushing squeeze was the final blow to his threadbare restraint. jake let out a guttural roar that vibrated deep inside your chest. he drove into you three more times — hard, deep, completely blind with his own release — before his entire body locked up.

he threw his head back, his jaw clenching so violently the cords in his neck stood out, and poured himself into you with a desperate shudder that seemed to go on forever.

for a long time, the only sound in the archive basement was the overlapping noise of your breathing. jake didn't pull away. he collapsed forward, burying his face in your messy hair, his broad chest heaving against yours as his weight pinned you flat against the metal cabinet. his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you so tightly it felt like he was trying to pull you inside his own ribs.

your legs were still locked around his waist, trembling with exhaustion, your skin slick with a mixture of sweat and the freezing air of the vault.

"don't move." he whispered against your ear, his voice a completely ruined baritone. his fingers flexed against your back, his touch suddenly incredibly tender compared to the violence from moments before. "just stay right here. don't run yet."

the steady drip of adrenaline suddenly began to fade, and the reality of the room crashed back in with excruciating clarity. the biting chill of the basement air hit your exposed skin, making a sudden shiver rack your entire frame. the silence in the vault was deafening now, suddenly being acutely aware of everything.

how loud your own chest was heaving. how his skin felt slick and hot against your palms. the absolute wreck of your clothes — your skirt bunched up around your waist, your shirt hanging open with the top buttons missing. your face burned with a sharp spike of self-consciousness that made your stomach do a nervous flip. your eyes darted down, landing on his shoulder where your teeth had left an angry red mark, and a wave of panic hit you.

what did we just do?

you shifted your weight awkwardly on the hard edge of the filing cabinet, your ankles slowly unlinking from behind his waist. your hands, which had been buried in his hair, dropped down to press weakly against his chest, trying to create an inch of space.

"jake." you breathed, your voice sounding small, raspy, and entirely too bare in the quiet aisle. "the... the files. vance is waiting for the intake data. we've been down here too long."

he didn't budge. if anything, he sank a fraction heavier against you, his hips remaining perfectly locked against yours, keeping you pinned to the cold metal. he slowly lifted his head from your neck, his dark hair completely disheveled, his eyes searching your face. they were still dark, his pupils wide, but the feral wildness had settled into a hyper-focused intensity.

"let him wait." jake murmured, his voice a low scrape.

you tried to look past his shoulder, anywhere but at his face, your fingers nervously twitching against his chest. "no, seriously. the digital network is down, they're drowning upstairs with the storm cases. if someone comes down here looking for us-"

"y/n."

the quiet command in his voice cut straight through your panicked rambling. his large hand left your waist, his long fingers reaching up to catch your chin, gently but firmly tilting your face back up until you had no choice but to look at him. his thumb pressed against your lower lip, tracing the swollen skin.

"stop that.” he said softly.

"stop what?" you asked, trying to force your voice into a defensive tone, but it came out as a breathless whisper.

"the retreating." he whispered, his thumb dragging slowly down to your jawline. "i can feel your brain working from here. you're already calculating the damage, trying to find a neat little box to put this in so you can pretend it was an isolated incident. you're looking for the exit."

your throat felt tight, the accuracy of his words making you ache. you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, not to pull his hand away, but just to hold onto something steady because your knees still felt like water. "it's a hospital basement, jake. we're colleagues. this... this is a massive hr violation, for one thing, and it's completely-"

"don't do that." he interrupted, leaning down until his forehead rested heavily against yours, his warm breath fanning across your lips. "don't lie to me. not after that. you held onto me like you were dying. y-you told me you wanted this. you don't get to go back to polite elevator nods, y/n. i won't let you do it to me again."

"i'm just trying to be realistic." you whispered, your eyes fluttering shut because having him this close, even after everything, was still making your chest swell with a terrifying amount of yearning. "this changes everything up there. it complicates everything."

"good." jake rasped, his lips brushing against yours slowly. he didn't pull away, he stayed right there, anchoring you to the reality of what had just happened. "let it change. i want it to. i've spent four years losing my mind. i'm not letting you run away this time."

the generators hummed somewhere beyond the thick concrete walls, a steady vibration filling the silence between your mouths. for four years, you had replayed the wreckage a thousand different ways in the quiet hours of the night. sometimes he apologized. sometimes you did. sometimes it was loud and explosive, a replication of the fights and the bickering that used to leave you both hollowed out and bleeding in that college library.

never, not once, had you imagined this.

your eyes searched his face, tracking the faint twitch in his jaw, the damp strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. he looked completely exhausted. not just from the late shift or the winter storm, but with the structural fatigue of someone who had been carrying a weight so heavy for so long that he had forgotten how to stand upright without it.

and suddenly, the sterile basement walls dissolved, and all you could see was the university library. the fourth floor windows glowing long after midnight. the half-finished coffees growing cold between stacks of behavioral data prints. the almost mechanical way he used to ask if you had eaten because he knew your blood sugar crashed when you were anxious. the ridiculous arguments over predictive models that were always just a thinly veiled excuse to keep talking to each other.

the classroom. the freezing rain. the boy who had looked at you as though decoding your mind was the only thing that could ever salvage his own.

he had been there the entire time. buried beneath months of sterile protocol and polite nods.

"i'm so tired." you admitted, the confession so quiet it barely disturbed the heavy air between you.

jake’s expression softened, the clinical armor he wore upstairs completely melting away. "i know."

"no." your voice cracked, a raw edge of tears catching in your throat. "i'm tired of fighting you, jake. i'm tired of pretending you're just a name on a shift report."

his eyes closed for a brief second, his long eyelashes casting dark shadows over his cheekbones. when they opened again, they looked unbearably young. stripped of the professional detachment, they looked exactly like they had four years earlier, right before everything went up in flames.

"i'm tired too." he whispered.

the truth of it settled between your bodies with an astonishing gentleness. it wasn't dramatic. it wasn't a breakthrough. it was just a mutual surrender to the exhaustion of running from the same ghost.

you let out a shaky laugh, brushing the heel of your hand beneath your eyes to catch a stray tear before it could drop. "look at us."

he frowned slightly, his brow furrowing in that familiar, analytical way. "what?"

"we're clinical psychologists and behavioral researchers." you murmured, another ironic laugh escaping you. "we literally spend our entire lives studying human behavior, and somehow we've managed to spend years acting like complete idiots."

for a heartbeat, he simply stared at you, his thumb still resting against the curve of your hip. then, the corner of his mouth twitched.

and he laughed. really laughed. it wasn't the polite, polished sound he gave the department heads. it was that quiet chuckle that used to echo through the empty library stacks whenever you managed to prove one of his statistical algorithms wrong.

your chest tightened so sharply it felt like a physical ache.

"there you are." you whispered before your brain could filter the thought.

his smile faded, his dark irises locking onto yours with an intense gravity. "...what?"

"you." you said softly.

he didn't answer, he didn't have to. because for the first time since leaving, you weren't looking at the brilliant data analyst the hospital prided itself on. you were looking at jake. just jake. the boy who was just as terrified of his own depth as you were. and somehow, seeing him clearly after so much time hurt even worse than the silence.

somewhere outside the heavy vault door, the distant sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, followed by the faint chime of the staff elevator. both of you instinctively glanced toward the aisle entrance.

reality was waiting upstairs. patients who needed evaluations. servers that needed to be brought back online. coworkers, morning rounds. the structured, clinical life you had both built to keep yourselves safe from one another.

"we should probably find those files." you murmured, though your hands didn't move from his sweater.

jake nodded, his chest rising and falling against yours in one last sigh. "yeah. vance is going to come down here himself if we take any longer."

neither of you moved. you stayed locked together in the narrow space, your bare thighs still cooling against the metal cabinet, the heat of the encounter lingering in the cold air like smoke.

then, after a long silence, he slowly reached down. his large hand slid over yours, his long fingers carefully intertwining with your own. it wasn't possessive. it wasn't the desperate, bruising grip from before. it was tentative. a lingering question you both should have had the courage to ask four years ago.

you looked down at your joined hands, the contrast of his pale skin against yours, before looking back up into his eyes.

but this time, you didn't pull away.

the end ⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪

extra !

the next morning, the winter storm had cleared, leaving the hospital windows framing a blindingly white city. the central servers were back online, the basement archives were locked up, and the frantic chaos of the night shift had settled into the quiet hum of a friday morning.

you were standing at the nurse’s station on the psychiatric floor, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee and staring blankly at a patient chart. you were wearing a high necked black sweater — a very deliberate choice — and your body still ached with a deep exhaustion that felt incredibly sweet.

"you look like you got hit by a snowplow." lily said, leaning her elbows on the counter beside you. she was currently holding a clipboard with a stack of new intake forms while looking at your face intensely. "did you even sleep?"

"barely." you murmured, keeping your eyes on the chart. "the emergency intake was a mess until the network came back up."

"tell me about it. the doctors were breathing down everyone's neck." lily sighed, flipping through her papers. "speaking of last night, did you ever find that baseline evaluation for bed four? vance said he sent you down to the archives, and then he sent jake down to help you, and then-"

the double doors to the wing hissed open.

both of you looked up. jake was walking down the corridor, his lab coat back on, unbuttoned and fluttering slightly as he moved with his usual long strides. he had a tablet in one hand, his eyes scanning a spreadsheet of behavioral data metrics. he looked as sharp and analytical as ever, but his hair was slightly damp from a rushed morning shower, and his jaw wasn't clenched for once.

lily didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. she just kept talking. "anyway, vance said you both took forever, so i assumed the filing system down there was a disaster-"

as jake drew level with the nurse's station, he didn't stop. he didn't even slow down. but as he passed you, his left hand dropped slightly.

his long fingers brushed against yours where your hand was resting on the counter. it wasn't a casual slip. his index finger hooked tightly around yours for a fleeting second, his warm thumb brushing over the back of your knuckles in a private squeeze before he let go.

he didn't look at you, his eyes never leaving his tablet. he just kept walking toward the administration offices, his expression completely blank, a perfect picture of professional detachment.

but you froze. your breath hitched in your throat, and a sudden, uncontrollable flush crawled up your neck, burning hot against the fabric of your sweater. you quickly took a sip of your coffee to hide it, your heart doing a happy flip against your ribs.

lily’s voice abruptly cut off.

you blinked, keeping your eyes glued to the patient file, desperately trying to look natural. "what? you were saying about the filing system?"

silence.

slowly, you turned your head. lily wasn't looking at her clipboard anymore. she was staring down at your hand on the counter, then staring down the hallway at jake’s retreating back, and then very slowly turning her gaze back to your face. her jaw was slightly slack, her eyes wide with a mix of absolute shock and frantic mental math.

lily had been a triage nurse on the psychiatric floor for years, which meant she possessed a near supernatural ability to read a room in under two seconds. she could spot a patient’s subtle shift in agitation, a doctor’s hidden hangover, or a brewing crisis before anyone else even noticed.

and right now, all that clinical intuition had just locked onto you.

she didn't need a degree in psychology to do the math. the puzzle pieces she had been casually collecting for months suddenly snapped together with an audible click.

the polite elevator nods. the way you always volunteered to go to the upper floors when jake wasn't there. the way jake’s posture went completely rigid whenever your name was mentioned in staff meetings. the sudden appearance of your high-necked sweater on a friday morning.

"oh my god." lily whispered, her voice dropping to a scandalized hiss.

"lily, don't." you pleaded quietly, your face burning even hotter as you shoved the patient chart shut.

"the university library." she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she leaned in so close your foreheads almost touched. "the “toxic situationship” from grad school who you said “moved across the country”? the data analyst?! jake?!"

"keep your voice down!" you hissed, looking around frantically, but the nearby nurses were occupied with a medication cart.

"you two have been playing matching coat cold war for months in this hospital, right?" lily muttered, her brain completely short-circuiting with joy. she looked down the hallway again, where jake was just disappearing into vance's office. "he just touched your hand. he didn't even look at you! that was the most calculated, romantic, deeply unhinged thing i have ever seen a researcher do."

"it wasn't calculated." you mumbled, a helpless smile finally breaking through your defensive exterior.

lily pointed a finger at you, her eyes gleaming with absolute victory. "you're smiling. you're glowing. y/n, you went into the basement for files and came back with a boyfriend. i am analyzing this entire situation and concluding that you are a complete idiot for waiting so much time.”

"we're figuring it out." you whispered, your fingers subconsciously tracing the spot on your knuckles where his thumb had just been. "we're... trying to be careful."

lily let out a happy hum, tapping her clipboard against her chin as she looked at you with pure affection. "well, the data doesn't lie, doc. you're a goner. now, tell me everything before daniel comes back out."

⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪

[taty-02z]

i LOVEEEEEEE your writing i had this in mind and was wondering if you could do a fic about husband jake and wife reader being pregnant and shes basically getting rounder and more curvy or chunky jake thinks she looks REALLY cute they already have a son and he couldnt wait any longer after putting their son to bed, on the same night jake made love to her (a smut scene)

i just thought you could ate this 😖😖😖❤️❤️

𖹭.ᐟ𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔: 𝑱𝒂𝒌𝒆

𖹭.ᐟHusband/Dad! Jake x Pregnant Wife/Mom!Reader: when the pregnancy insecurities hit hard but your husband refuses to let you forget how beautiful you are ✨ established relationship, domestic fluff-smut, pregnancy intimacy, P in V, praise kink, body worship, gentle and devotion husband, soft sex, initial context, MDNI.

Aww, thank you so much for your lovely words and for trusting that I'm gonna ate this! 🤧💕 Honestly, I appreciate your trust so much when placing this request and for reading my stories. I truly hope you love the final result!

You were in the elevator on the way up to your apartment. Jake carried your  dress and the little tuxedo your son would wear tomorrow at his older brother’s wedding. The kids were growing at an alarming rate, which was exactly why you’d had to rush to the seamstress to let out a few seams—both on the sleeves of your three-year-old’s suit and on the sides of your own dress, hoping the fabric would give enough not to press against your rounded belly. 

For you, however, seeing how the original design—which was already one of the largest sizes in the store—still hadn’t been enough to close without alterations had become a bitter thought you couldn’t stop turning over in your mind.

“You know, champ, how exactly are you going to throw the flower petals tomorrow at your uncle’s wedding?” Jake asked Jaebum, who immediately began demonstrating with disastrous enthusiasm, swinging his arms as if he were hurling stones into a river.

“Oh, wow… we’ve got a problem here. No, son, remember how I showed you a few minutes ago,” Jake said, trying to keep a straight face that was undermined by the smile threatening to break through.

He glanced sideways at you, hoping to share the moment, but found you staring fixedly at your reflection in the mirror, lost in some distant point. Without a word, he slipped his free hand into yours, intertwining your fingers in a tender squeeze, as if trying to bring you back down to earth.

You forced a smile right away and nodded, trying to hide that your mind was drifting far away. Jake raised an eyebrow subtly; he knew every one of your expressions perfectly, and a spark of suspicion settled in his chest. Still, the elevator gave a soft beep announcing your floor. As soon as the doors opened, the boy shot out into the hallway straight toward the apartment door.

“Are you sure you didn’t give him any candy?” you asked, noticing your son’s hyperactivity as you hurried after him.

“I swear, baby. I have no idea where he gets all that energy from. I thought the trampoline at the restaurant would wear him out for bed,” Jake assured you sincerely, conveniently overlooking that the “fruit juice” he’d bought Jaebum had been sweetened with syrup. It was easy to forget that sugar hid in the most unexpected places.

Once inside the apartment, little Jaebum kicked off his shoes at the entrance and raced straight to the living room. You sighed softly and stretched out your arms to take the garments Jake was carrying.

“Let me handle these. I’ll hang them in the closet so they don’t wrinkle,” you said. You took the fabrics in your hands, feeling the touch of the dress that now seemed like a reminder of your insecurities. Before taking a single step, you looked Jake in the eyes and decided to release what you’d been holding back. “Jake… tomorrow at the wedding entrance, could you be the one to walk with Jaebum and the flowers? I’d rather you guide him from the start.”

Jake blinked, stopping in his tracks as he shrugged off his jacket.

“Is something wrong? Are you feeling bad? Is our baby…?” Concern instantly darkened his gaze as he instinctively stepped toward you.

“No, no, we’re fine,” you reassured him quickly, brushing his cheek with your fingertips to dispel the fear in his eyes. “It’s just… a favor. Can you do it?”

He nodded, visibly disoriented by the change of plans and the shadow of sadness surrounding you, but always ready to please you.

“Thank you, really. I’m going to the bedroom for a moment to see what the cat wants—she’s been meowing nonstop since we walked in,” you lied, using the pet as the perfect excuse to get a moment alone. “Can you take care of Jaebum?”

“Of course, go ahead. I’ll handle putting our little earthquake to sleep,” he murmured, catching your hand just before you pulled it away from his face to press a deep kiss into your palm.

As you walked away, Jake remained at the entrance, watching you head toward the master bedroom. He knew perfectly well that you needed the space and wasn’t going to deny it; still, he couldn’t help following every step, noticing your slower gait due to your advanced pregnancy. It was then, suddenly, that he found himself completely mesmerized by your silhouette—so much so that he had to shake his head and blink a couple of times in a rather futile attempt to look away from the exquisite voluptuousness of your hips.

Because you, pregnant, possessed a kind of natural aphrodisiac that drove his mind wild. It was incredibly hard for him to keep his composure around you; the sweet, urgent desire to squeeze the new softness of your curves and cover you in kisses followed him at all hours. That was exactly why he couldn’t wait to finish his fatherly duties and run to find you in the bedroom, desperately needing a private moment alone with you.

“Champ, I have a very important mission,” he told the little boy who was running circles around his legs. He scooped him up. “You’re going to cooperate, right?”

The toddler shook his head vigorously, letting out a mischievous giggle as he squirmed and slipped free, dashing straight to his room. That was just the beginning. After a few minutes, Jake realized that if he couldn’t beat the enemy, the best thing was to join him. And so both of them ended up jumping on the bed, with the sole goal of burning off every last drop of that energy. Just as the room was filled with shared laughter and bouncing, they both heard your footsteps approaching down the hallway.

“To your position!” Jake ordered in a military whisper.

Since it wasn’t the first time and they had already mastered this usual escape strategy, the boy dropped onto his back on the mattress by reflex while Jake imitated the maneuver beside him, landing with a silent grunt. In a flash, little Jaebum squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to be in a deep sleep, remaining perfectly still just as you walked past the cracked door.

However, as soon as the echo of your footsteps faded down the hallway toward the kitchen, Jaebum’s eyes flew open. In that same instant, the boy took momentum to jump up and resume bouncing, but Jake was much faster.

Before the little one could move, Jake trapped him firmly in his arms, pulling him against his chest in a tender but unbreakable bear hug.

“Oh no, young man. No one escapes this hug,” Jake murmured in his ear with a laugh, gently immobilizing him while Jaebum kicked playfully, eventually surrendering to his dad’s embrace. “Now it’s really time to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day and you have a super mission to complete.”

“I don’t want to. You sleep,” the little boy grumbled, weakly trying to push his father’s cheeks with his small hands.

“Son, please, do this for Daddy…” Jake pleaded in a whiny tone. “Look, Mommy is alone in the room and Daddy needs to go take care of her. If you fall asleep now, you’ll be our superhero. Okay? Please, champ…”

Jaebum stared at him intently, weighing his father’s words as real tiredness finally began to win. After a yawn, the boy stretched out an arm and gave his dad a couple of clumsy pats on the shoulder in a sweet attempt at comfort.

“Yeah, but do this and tell me a story, please” the little one requested, stroking his father’s hair to indicate he wanna head scratches, before snuggling his head right under Jake’s chin.

“Of course, my boy,” Jake whispered, his heart melting with tenderness.

And so he began running his fingertips through the soft strands of hair with infinite delicacy while creating a story about ninjas. After a couple of minutes, Jaebum’s eyelids finally gave in. His breathing became deep and steady as he fell sound asleep.

Noticing it, Jake smiled, gazing for a brief second at his little boy’s face to make sure he was truly in Morpheus’s arms. Only then did he place a tender kiss on his forehead and, with the caution of an expert, slipped out of the bed inch by inch. He tucked the blanket up to the boy’s shoulders and quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Once outside, he let out a long sigh of relief. With his fatherly mission finally complete and that urgent need to see you pulsing strongly in his veins, he headed straight for the master bedroom, anxious to know how you were and to simply delight in the wonderful sight of having you in front of his eyes.

He opened the door quietly, slipped inside, and locked it, securing your privacy. When he turned around, he found you sitting at the vanity, already wearing your nightgown and wiping your face with a cotton pad.

Watching the scene, a smile settled on his lips. Jake approached from behind and, seeking your closeness, settled on the edge of the bench, sharing the space with you. He rested one arm on the wooden surface and placed his chin on your shoulder with total naturalness, planting a tender, audible kiss on your cheek.

“I wanted to give you space, but I really don’t like seeing you like this,” he admitted softly. “You’ve been really quiet since we left the seamstress’s shop. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked.

At his pause, you turned your face toward him, meeting his attentive gaze, which studied every detail of your features with meticulous affection. However, so much attention and sweetness made you lower your eyes, forcing you to look forward again, fixing them once more on the mirror.

“It’s silly, Ikeu,” you cut him off in a whisper, trying to downplay it.

“It’s not silly to me if it’s got you like this,” he replied immediately, refusing to let it go. “Come on, not seeing a smile on that beautiful face is hurting me right here, too much.”

To emphasize it, he pointed dramatically at the center of his chest, then replaced his chin with his forehead, hiding it briefly against your shoulder before lifting his gaze to find you again.

Through the mirror, you saw how his eyes shone with that adoration you struggled so much to accept on days like this. Taking advantage of having his forehead resting on your shoulder, Jake tilted his head slightly, brushing his nose against your neck to inhale the fresh, sweet scent of your recently washed hair, letting out a purr of pure satisfaction.

“You’re not getting away that easily, my love,” he murmured against your skin, sending a subtle shiver through you. “I know every one of your silences, and this one isn’t a good one.”

With deliberate slowness, he straightened his torso enough to rest his chin on your shoulder again, with no intention of breaking the physical contact. Looking at you once more through the reflection, a silly, involuntary smile settled on his lips; he was completely enchanted by your cute cheeks, which looked a little rounder and rosier. They gave you such a damn beautiful, angelic appearance that he couldn’t help reaching out with his free hand to trace your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, offering a comforting caress.

However, you eventually set the cotton pad down on the vanity, feeling the knot in your throat grow heavier under the affection of his pampering. Your eyes inevitably drifted to your own silhouette, lowering to where the fabric of the nightgown fell over your rounded belly. The hormones were doing their thing, pushing you to the edge of tears in an emotional rollercoaster you could no longer stop.

“It’s just… it is silly, love,” you finally let out, your voice cracking with a thread of frustration you couldn’t contain. “The dress… the seamstress had to undo the entire design so I could fit into it,” you confessed in a small voice, feeling completely vulnerable. “With Jaebum you could barely tell, but now… I feel like I’ve gained triple the weight. I’m huge, my arms are thicker, my hips… I don’t recognize myself in the mirror, Jake. I’m a block. I feel like everyone tomorrow is going to look at me and think how careless I look. I don’t want to ruin your brother’s photos. I don’t feel pretty.”

Jake listened to every word without interrupting you once, but as you spoke, the tender smile on his face faded completely.

“Listen to me carefully,” Jake said, using a firm but incredibly sweet tone as he gently turned your face toward him so you’d look at him directly. “Don’t ever say you look careless again. Do you have any idea what I really see when I look at you? My love, if you could only see yourself through my eyes…”

You stayed silent, your lower lip trembling slightly as you tried to hold back the tears. “Jake, I’m serious…”

“I’m very serious too,” he continued, cradling your face. “I see the most beautiful and extraordinary woman on the planet. It drives me crazy how you look right now; I love that your cheeks are like this because it makes me want to cover you in kisses all day. And your curves…” He caressed your cheek with his thumb, closing the distance until your breaths mingled. “I feel like life is giving me more of you to hold, to protect, and to love. You’re beautiful, my love. You’re blooming because you’re carrying our daughter inside you; your body isn’t ruined, it’s doing the most beautiful job in the world by making space for her. That’s why you’re perfect just as you are right now. I admire you deeply, and I fall in love with every little change.”

Jake leaned in to finally give you that kiss. It started with an exasperatingly soft brush of his lips, a reverent caress that in a sigh turned into something much deeper; he tilted his head tenderly and you felt the warmth of his tongue seeking yours in a slow, infinite dance of devotion.

At the same time, the heat of his hand slipped under your nightgown. He first stroked the roundness of your belly with protective affection before moving up your sides, molding his fingers to the curve of your waist with a firm, needy pressure that pulled you against him, seeking to comfort you and melt into you, drawing a soft gasp from you that he caught against his mouth.

“Tomorrow you’re going to walk into that church on the arm of Jaebum and mine,” he declared against your lips, brushing them with every word. “I’m going to make sure everyone sees the immense pride I feel for the wonderful woman walking by my side. But tonight… tonight I want to remind you of that myself, right here.”

Your insecurities finally faded in the face of the absolute certainty in his words. You leaned into him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you nodded, surrendering completely to the shelter of his arms.

He pulled back just a few millimeters from your lips, keeping his eyes fixed on yours with a gaze so full of deep reverence it took your breath away. With extremely careful movements, he stood up, taking your hands to guide you toward the bed. Every step was slow, respecting your pace.

When you reached the edge of the bed, he helped you lie down, arranging a pillow behind your back and another behind your head so you’d be completely comfortable without any uncomfortable pressure. He stepped away for only a moment to remove his shirt, revealing the firm torso you loved so much. His eyes never left you as he shed the rest of his clothes. Then he returned to you, kneeling between your spread legs.

“Let me worship you,” he said as his fingers slid under the hem of your nightgown and slowly lifted it, first revealing your thighs. “All of you, my love. Every inch that has changed… drives me crazy.”

His palms moved upward slowly, lovingly kneading the softest flesh of your thighs, squeezing gently. He continued toward your hips, now wider and more generous, gripping them firmly as if he wanted to memorize them that way.

“These hips…” he growled softly, leaning down to kiss them. “They’ve become so wide and tempting. Perfect for carrying our daughter. Perfect for me to hold onto while I make love to you.”

Then he slid the nightgown up even further, revealing your rounded belly. His eyes shone with a mix of desire and pure adoration.

“Just… look at you,” he murmured, leaning in to rain kisses all over its surface. “You’re so beautiful.”

He moved up your body, kissing every new curve with adoration: the now wider sides of your waist, the softness of your heavier and more sensitive breasts, and the delicate line of your collarbone. He stayed lying beside you the entire time, being extremely careful not to put the slightest pressure on your belly. When he reached your mouth, he kissed you deeply while one of his hands slid between your legs, caressing you with expert and patient fingers. He started by playing over the thin fabric of your panties, tracing your intimacy through them.

“Jake…” you moaned softly, unconsciously arching toward him in search of more.

Then he pushed the fabric completely aside and ran his fingers between your folds with such precision that he drew a choked gasp from you. Jake smiled against your mouth, absorbing the delicious sound while his index finger began stroking your clit, preparing you unhurriedly. The sensitivity of your body was heightened because of the pregnancy, and every caress of his felt tripled, coursing through you until it made you lose all sense.

“Tonight I just want you to feel how much I love you like this… exactly like this,” he responded in a husky voice full of infinite tenderness.

“I love what you do to me, Jake,” you confessed in a murmur.

Your words went far beyond physical pleasure; you loved how his hands tore down your insecurities one by one, forcing you to reconcile with yourself. While he continued caressing your pussy with that mastery of his, he let out a low, sweet chuckle.

“It’s because of your pregnancy that you feel everything a little more intensely, my love,” he murmured affectionately.

“But it feels good… so good,” you insisted, biting your lip as you turned your head to seek his lips again. “I love how you make me feel.”

You said it while looking him in the eyes, letting the subtext float between you. That tonight you once again felt like the most beautiful, desired, and confident woman in the universe.

“I also love how you make me feel. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world,” he whispered, leaving one last kiss before moving to position himself between your legs.

He knelt again, removing your panties completely, and kept his torso upright. From that position, your belly was fully exposed, free of any weight. His hands moved down to your hips, gripping them firmly to lift them just a little and align you with him.

Without breaking eye contact, Jake pressed against your intimacy and, with a contained sigh, began sliding inside you. From his position, seeing how he filled you completely was an overwhelmingly intimate sight.

A tremulous moan escaped your throat as soon as he settled fully inside you. You clutched the sheets, arching your back slightly while he held his breath for a second, admiring from above how your body molded to his.

“There’s nothing in this world that drives me crazier than seeing you like this…” he told you, his voice broken with the effort of holding back, while he felt your center tightening around him, giving you time to adjust. “So sensual, so mine.”

Then he began to move. The rhythm was deep, rhythmic, and filled with great delicacy. Kneeling and leaning slightly back, Jake controlled the angle and every inch of the motion with incredible skill, using his hands on your hips to guide the pace and make each thrust hit exactly the right spot. At the same time, his right hand left your side and moved to your intimacy; with the pad of his thumb, he began stimulating your clit right where your bodies joined.

The double stimulation was overwhelming. With your body so sensitive, the combination of his deep penetration and the expert brush of his fingers made you lose all sense of everything. Your moans began to spill out uncontrollably; you had to cover your mouth with your hand so as not to wake your little one, while you watched Jake’s chest rise and fall rapidly, his eyes darkened and the veins standing out on his arms. You weren’t going to last long, and indeed you didn’t. It was a perfect sum that took you straight to the peak of your desire, and you came arching and digging your nails into the arm holding your hip.

He hissed when your nails sank into his skin, and the intensity of your climax seemed to pull him straight into his own. Feeling the spasms of your walls squeezing him with tremendous force, Jake tensed every muscle in his body; but far from stopping, he quickened the rhythm a little more, while his thumb continued pressing your clit in wet, steady circles. That change forced your orgasm to stretch, suspending you in a high note of pleasure that made you tremble from head to toe, tears welling in your eyes.

“That’s it… Give it all to me, all of it, love…” he pleaded in a broken whisper, completely losing his breath.

His entire body tensed over your legs, trembling as he spilled inside you. He stayed upright, his arms rigid at your sides to support his own weight, protecting the roundness of your belly with a sacred instinct. With ragged breaths colliding between you, he lowered his gaze to rest his forehead against yours, worshiping you in a silence filled with love.

“Tell me how you’re not going to be the most beautiful woman in the universe when you have this man surrendering to you every night… well, what am I saying—every day, every blessed hour of the day,” he whispered breathlessly, letting out a low chuckle that vibrated against your lips before brushing his nose against yours. “I love you with everything I am.”

A small smile, free of any trace of bitterness, appeared on your lips. You savored the warmth of his skin, returning the affection by playfully and tenderly rubbing your nose against his.

“Thank you for inviting me to see myself through your eyes, Jake. After today, I promise I won’t feel bad about my changes anymore; I’m going to love them as much as you do, because you reminded me that every one of them is part of this journey that’s so ours… of this second baby on the way,” you answered with a heart overflowing with gratitude. “I love you with my whole being too, Ikeu.”

Hi beauties ~

If the toddler’s name sounds familiar, it’s because this connected with "Little Partners in Crime" in some way. In my mind, both stories share the same family universe; it’s just that here, little So-Yun in the tummy, hahaha.

Reminder that I have requests open, so feel free to share your ideas about 02z's Line members with me. (Please send me some fluff! Hahaha) 💕

Latest Update (smut!): ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑃𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠: 𝑃. 𝐽𝑆

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𔓕 𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗬-𝟬𝟮'𝘇

©𝗧𝗮𝘁𝘆-𝟬𝟮𝘇

[wonluvzu]

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ One summer. One party. One misunderstanding that completely changed their friendship. In their third year of college, they are forced to stay connected through their high school friend group. Until they find out they both signed up for the same study abroad program in London, where fate has one more surprise waiting for them...

𝙚𝙭 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙-ish! 𝙟𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 friendship fallout, slowburn, navigating their way back, fluff, tension, in college, misunderstanding, forced proximity, (not much in this part)->, banter, arguing, angst wc: 9432 warnings: mentions of drinking! like one curse word.

song 🎧: I know what you did last summer by shawn mendes & camila cabello

I spent a whole year convincing myself that I’d be able to avoid Jake this summer…

Oh I was so wrong.

Last summer was supposed to be another summer spent enjoying time with my friends before returning to our college lives. Everything was perfect until the final night before we all went our separate ways.

Yunjin convinced our entire friend group to go to a party hosted at a beach house where many of our old classmates would be. When we arrived, the boys immediately separated to play games while the girls headed toward the drinks.

I grabbed a cup, not realizing what I was drinking until it was too late.

“Is this spiked with vodka?” I gagged.

“Yes, we’re at a party, girl,” Yunjin laughed.

The beach house was crowded as I looked around the room, my eyes scanning over familiar faces. Then I stopped.

Jake.

He was playing a stupid ping pong game with the others before excusing himself to Sunghoon and Heeseung. I didn’t realize I had been staring until someone spoke.

“Girl, when are you going to tell him?” Chaewon sighed.

“Don’t even deny it,” Yunjin added, pointing at me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, pretending to be clueless.

Yunjin gave me a knowing look.

“What? Fine, but what do you want me to do about it?” I exclaimed.

“Tell him. Obviously. And he definitely likes you back,” Chaewon said.

“You think?” I asked nervously.

“It’s so obvious! You two have been flirting nonstop,” Yunjin said.

“I’ll think about it,” I replied, hoping to end the conversation before taking another sip of my drink.

But soon, my stomach started to feel heavy.

“I’m going to look for the bathroom,” I told them before walking away toward the quieter part of the house.

I opened door after door, searching for the washroom, until I opened one without realizing someone was inside.

A bedroom.

Then I saw him.

Jake.

His arms were wrapped tightly around another girl.

For a moment, everything stopped.

It felt like I had walked in on something I was never supposed to see.

Before I could process what was happening, Jake noticed me.

“Y/N?”

“Uh… sorry. I should’ve knocked. Seems like I interrupted something… important,” I said, my voice cracking.

I turned around quickly, but before I could leave, someone grabbed my wrist.

Jake.

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” he said, breathing heavily.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I replied coldly. “We’re just friends, right?”

The words sounded more like a statement than a question.

Before he could respond, I pulled my arm away and walked out.

I called an Uber home and texted the group chat that I wasn’t feeling well and had to leave.

The next morning, everyone said their goodbyes before heading back to college for sophomore year. When it was Jake’s turn, I only said one word.

“Goodbye.”

Everyone noticed the tension between us, but no one said anything.

After we left, Yunjin and Chaewon immediately called me. I explained everything, and they tried convincing me that maybe it was a misunderstanding.

But I knew what I saw.

And somehow, it hurt more than it should have.

Because it’s not like we were dating.

So why did it feel like I had lost something?

PRESENT

The school year went by too quickly for my liking.

And now, it was already summer again.

Everyone was meeting at Yunjin's house before heading to the beach. Thankfully, I was the first one there, along with Chaewon.

Yunjin checked her phone before groaning. The boys had already texted the group chat saying they were running late.

Of course they were.

"The boys said they're five minutes away."

"Five minutes?" Chaewon scoffed. "That's basically twenty."

"They're probably stopping for food," I said.

"Definitely." Yunjin adds.

"Or Jake forgot something," Chaewon joked.

Yunjin laughed. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised."

“Anyways…I’ve missed you guys so much!" I said, pulling Yunjin and Chaewon into a hug.

"We missed you more," Yunjin laughed, squeezing me tighter.

"So, how was college?" Chaewon asked.

"Boring, but I definitely partied more than I studied," Yunjin admitted.

"It was alright..." I smiled. "Speaking of college, I have some news."

Yunjin's eyes widened.

"What is it? Spill!"

"I got accepted into the study abroad program in London!"

For a second, they both stared at me.

Then they screamed.

"Oh my gosh, congratulations!" Chaewon yelled as the three of us jumped up and hugged each other again.

I couldn't stop smiling.

A whole semester in London.

It felt like exactly what I needed. A fresh start.

"So..." Chaewon asked with a smirk. "Anyone have a summer fling?"

"I wish," Yunjin groaned. "Everyone at my school is either taken or just plain weird."

I laughed. "That's... surprisingly accurate."

Yunjin looked over at me. "What about you?"

"Nope."

Chaewon raised an eyebrow. "Liar."

"I'm serious!"

Yunjin opened her mouth to speak. "You haven't even looked at anyone since..."

She cut herself off.

The room fell silent.

I knew exactly who she was talking about.

"So..." I forced a smile. "Can we please change the subject?"

Then Yunjin ruined the moment.

"The boys will be here any minute."

She glanced at me.

"What?" I asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You know you're not going to be able to avoid Jake forever, right?"

Chaewon nodded in agreement.

"I know," I sighed.

"So what's your plan?" Yunjin asked

"Avoid eye contact." I say while thinking

Chaewon laughed. "That's your genius plan?"

"I'll also avoid conversations."

"And?" Yunjin asking if there is more than just that.

"...That's all I've got."

Yunjin shook her head, trying not to laugh.

"You do realize he's probably going to talk to you eventually."

"I'll deal with that when it happens."

"You're hopeless."

"I prefer the term optimistic."

"Hypothetically..." Yunjin quickly looks at me

"No." I sternly say.

"I didn't even finish." She looks at me to let me hear her out

"Because I already know where this is going." I pointed out

"What if Jake apologizes?" Chaewon tries to add on

I hesitate.

"...He has nothing to apologize for. I thought we had something but, I was clearly mistakend.”

The words don't even sound convincing to yourself.

Before either of them could respond, we heard a car pull into the driveway.

"They're here! Let's go!" Chaewon said, grabbing the beach bags.

We stepped outside as everyone got out of the car.

"Long time no see!" Heeseung exclaimed, pulling each of us into a hug.

"Missed you guys... I guess," Sunghoon joked before breaking into a smile and hugging us too.

Then came the one person I'd spent the last year trying to avoid.

Jake.

He hugged Yunjin.

Then Chaewon.

Then he stopped in front of me.

Neither of us spoke.

We just stared at each other.

The silence felt suffocating.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell everyone was watching, waiting for one of us to say something.

Jake took a small step forward.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around me.

I froze.

For a second, I didn't know what to do.

Slowly, I hugged him back.

Neither of us said a single word.

After a few seconds, I pushed away first and immediately climbed into the car.

Thankfully, I wasn't sitting next to him.

I couldn't even look at him without remembering that night.

I wasn't about to let one hug change everything.

Heeseung drove while Yunjin sat in the passenger seat. Chaewon sat beside me, and Jake and Sunghoon climbed into the back.

The drive was quiet.

Too quiet.

The silence only lasted a few minutes before Yunjin finally gave in.

"So... how was everyone's school year?"

Thankfully, it got everyone talking again.

The car felt a little less suffocating.

Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that Jake was still sitting right behind me.

After what felt like an an eternity…

The beach finally came into view as Heeseung reached over and turned the radio up.

For the first time since Jake hugged me, I let myself pretend everything was normal.

Maybe the knot in my stomach was just from the long drive.

Maybe that hug didn't mean anything.

I rested my head against the window, watching the waves crash against the shore as the sunlight reflected across the water.

This summer would be different.

It had to be.

In a few months, I'd be in London, starting over somewhere new. No awkward run ins. No painful memories.

Just me.

I just had to make it through the summer first. That’s all.. right?

The moment Heeseung parked the car, Sunghoon practically threw his seatbelt off.

"I call the spot closest to the water!" he shouted with a grin as he reached for the door handle.

"Oh, absolutely not," Yunjin scoffed, laughing as she climbed out of the passenger seat. "You say that every single year."

Sunghoon shrugged dramatically.

"And every single year I win."

"You literally start running before the engine's even off," Heeseung said, shaking his head as he opened the trunk.

Sunghoon pointed at him with a proud smile.

"That's called strategy."

"No," Chaewon laughed as she grabbed one of the beach bags. "That's called cheating."

"It only counts as cheating if you get caught."

Everyone burst into laughter.

I couldn't help smiling.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

Chaewon bumped my shoulder with hers as we started walking toward the sand.

"You remembered sunscreen this time... right?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"I remembered," I answered confidently.

She folded her arms.

"You hesitated."

"I packed it!"

"Barely," Yunjin teased. "Last summer you looked like a tomato.”

"It was just a tan!”

"You were red," Heeseung corrected with a laugh.

Sunghoon nodded seriously.

"You looked like a walking stop sign."

I gasped dramatically.

"You guys are so fake."

"We're honest," Chaewon replied, smiling innocently.

As everyone continued laughing, Heeseung picked up the cooler with an exaggerated groan.

"Can somebody help me with this thing?"

Yunjin immediately took two steps backward.

"Nope."

"You packed half the food," Heeseung complained.

"And?" she replied with a shrug.

"So help."

"I contributed emotionally."

Heeseung blinked.

"...Emotionally?"

"Mhm."

Sunghoon nodded in agreement.

"I support her argument."

"Of course you do," Chaewon muttered.

The familiar banter made something inside me loosen.

For the first time all day, everything almost felt normal.

We found a spot near the water and spread our towels in a messy circle.

Heeseung immediately launched into a story about one of his professors accidentally emailing the wrong class.

Within minutes everyone was laughing.

Even me.

I looked up, still smiling...

Only to find Jake already looking at me.

His smile faded the second our eyes met.

Mine did too.

Neither of us said anything.

I looked away first, pretending to adjust my beach towel.

The second our towels were down, Sunghoon was already sprinting toward the water.

"Last one in is gonna get thrown into the water!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"Oh, you're so on!" Yunjin laughed as she chased after him.

"Wait for us!" Chaewon yelled, grabbing my wrist and pulling me along.

"Hey! That's cheating!" I laughed.

"Life isn't fair!"

The cool water rushed over my feet as we reached the shoreline.

Heeseung walked in after us, shaking his head.

"You guys are actually children."

"Says the oldest one here," Sunghoon teased before splashing him.

Heeseung stopped in his tracks.

"Oh... that's how we're playing?"

A second later, a wave of water crashed into Sunghoon.

"What the—HYUNG!"

Within seconds, everyone was splashing each other.

Yunjin screamed as Chaewon shoved a wave toward her.

"Chaewon!"

"You started it!"

"I literally didn't!"

I laughed so hard my stomach hurt.

For a little while...

I forgot.

Forgot about last summer.

Forgot about the awkward hug.

Forgot Jake was even here.

Until a splash of cold water hit me square in the face.

I gasped.

"Seriously?" I laughed, wiping the water from my eyes.

Sunghoon immediately pointed at Heeseung.

"It was him!"

"It was not me."

"It literally wasn't," Chaewon giggled.

"Then who—"

I looked up.

Jake stood a few feet away.

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I think my aim was a little off," he admitted.

For a split second, I almost smiled back.

Almost.

Instead, I scooped up water and splashed him.

"Now it isn't."

Jake let out a surprised laugh as water soaked the front of his shirt.

"So that's how it's going to be?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Facing the other way

He shook his head with a quiet laugh before turning and splashing Sunghoon instead.

"HEY! Why me?" Sunghoon yelled.

"Wrong place, wrong time." Jake

"I've been betrayed!"

After nearly an hour of splashing each other, racing through the waves, and trying to dunk Sunghoon every chance we got, we were all completely exhausted.

"I can't feel my legs," Sunghoon groaned dramatically as he flopped onto his towel.

"That's because you kept trying to tackle everyone," Heeseung laughed, setting the cooler between us.

"I was winning."

"You were losing," Chaewon corrected with a grin.

"Barely."

Yunjin rolled her eyes as she reached into the cooler for a drink.

"You two are going to argue about this all summer, aren't you?"

"Probably," Heeseung answered, handing everyone a bottle of water.

I took mine with a quiet, "Thanks," before sitting cross legged on my towel.

The ocean breeze felt nice against my skin as I took a sip.

For a few minutes, everyone just sat there, listening to the waves.

Sunghoon finally broke the silence.

"I still can't believe we're finally done with sophomore year."

"I know," Chaewon sighed happily. "No homework. No exams. No professors emailing at two in the morning."

"I've never appreciated summer break more," Yunjin said as she leaned back on her elbows.

Heeseung laughed.

"So... what's everyone's plan this summer?"

"I have to work for most of it," Sunghoon answered with a groan.

"That's tragic," Yunjin teased.

"Some of us need money."

"I'll be traveling with my family for a bit," Chaewon said. "Then probably just relaxing."

Yunjin nodded.

"I might visit my cousins before classes start again."

Everyone eventually looked at me.

"What about you?" Heeseung asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Chaewon suddenly gasped.

"Wait!"

Everyone looked at her.

"She has news."

I laughed. “Of course you remember that"

"Because you were literally screaming about it earlier," Yunjin said, smiling.

"Okay, okay," I said, sitting up slightly. "I got accepted into a study abroad program."

"Right!" Chaewon exclaimed. "London."

My smile grew.

"Yeah. London."

"That's actually so exciting," Heeseung said.

"A whole semester in London?" Sunghoon asked, impressed. "That's crazy."

"I know," I admitted. "I think I really need the change."

A fresh start.

I didn't say those words out loud, but they were exactly what I was thinking.

Then there was pause of realization on Sunghoon’s face.

"Wait..." Sunghoon suddenly looked over at Jake. "Didn't you say you were going to London too?"

My smile faded slightly.

I turned my head.

Jake looked up, clearly caught off guard by the question.

"Yeah," he answered after a moment. "I am."

The group went quiet.

"Wait, what?" Yunjin looked between the two of us.

Jake glanced at me.

"I got accepted into a study abroad program there."

I blinked.

"You did?"

"Yeah."

Neither of us said anything after that.

Then Chaewon slowly looked between us.

"Hold on..."

Her eyes widened.

“That means you both are going to London?"

The words hung in the air.

"That means you both are going to London?" Chaewon repeated, looking between the two of us.

No one spoke.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck before letting out a small sigh.

"...Looks like it."

Sunghoon looked between us, completely oblivious to the tension.

"That's actually kind of perfect."

I blinked.

"Perfect?"

"Yeah." He shrugged. "At least you'll know someone."

I forced out an awkward laugh.

"I'm sure we'll manage just fine separately."

Jake's eyes flickered toward me.

"...Right."

Yunjin and Chaewon exchanged a glance.

They knew.

They definitely knew.

The conversation stalled until Heeseung clapped his hands together.

"Well, that's future us's problem."

He reached into the cooler.

"Who's hungry?"

"Me!" Sunghoon answered immediately.

"When are you not hungry?" Chaewon laughed.

"I burn calories differently."

"By breathing?"

"Exactly."

The tension eased just enough for everyone to laugh.

Just enough.

Jake looked down at the sand, a small smile appearing on his face.

"I guess we'll see each other around."

His words were casual.

Too casual.

But somehow, they still made my stomach twist.

"Yeah," I replied quietly.

Around.

That was the goal.

Just around.

Not together.

Not like before.

Just around.

The rest of the afternoon went by faster than I expected.

After the London conversation, everyone eventually moved on. Sunghoon challenged everyone to a volleyball game, which somehow turned into everyone arguing over the rules.

"That's not how you play!" Heeseung laughed.

"Yes it is," Sunghoon argued.

"You literally changed the rules halfway through."

"Because the original rules were boring."

I shook my head, laughing.

Some things never changed.

For a moment, I forgot everything.

I forgot the awkwardness.

Forgot the distance.

Until Jake ended up standing beside me during the next game.

"You're still terrible at serving," he teased.

I looked at him.

A year ago, I would've immediately argued back.

"You still talk too much."

His smile widened slightly.

"There she is."

I froze.

The volleyball bounced toward me, rolling across the sand.

I jogged over and bent down to grab it.

Another hand reached for it at the exact same time.

Jake.

Our fingers brushed.

It lasted barely a second.

But it was enough.

I immediately pulled my hand back.

"...Sorry," I mumbled.

Jake looked at me for a moment before picking up the ball.

"You don't have to apologize." His voice was quiet. Gentle. It caught me off guard.

He held the ball out to me.

"You were closer."

I hesitated before taking it from him. "Thanks."

He nodded once. "Yeah."

Neither of us moved.

The silence between us stretched longer than it should have.

It wasn't awkward because we had nothing to say.

It was awkward because there were too many things we wanted to say.

The way he acted like no time had passed.

It was almost unfair.

Because part of me missed it.

And that was the part I hated the most.

By the time the sun started setting, everyone was exhausted.

We packed up our things, leaving behind the spot that held a hundred memories.

"Same time next week?" Yunjin asked as we walked back to the car.

"Obviously," Sunghoon answered.

"You say that like you weren't the one complaining about being tired five minutes ago," Chaewon teased.

"I was tired emotionally."

Everyone laughed.

Even me.

The drive back was different from the one there.

Not completely normal.

But not as painful.

Jake and I still didn't talk much.

But for the first time in a year...

It didn't feel impossible.

WEEK 1

The next Friday, Yunjin declared it was "bonfire night," which really just meant she'd found a fire pit rental online and convinced her older brother to drop it off at the beach before disappearing for the rest of the night.

"I still don't understand how you talked him into this," Chaewon said, dragging a cooler across the sand while I carried a stack of folding chairs that kept threatening to collapse in my arms.

"I told him I'd stop borrowing his car without asking."

"Will you actually stop?"

"Absolutely not."

By the time the sun started dipping toward the water, the fire pit was crackling, and the six of us had claimed a stretch of beach far enough from the boardwalk that the noise of tourists faded into a low hum behind us.

Heeseung guarded the fire like it was a full time job, feeding it driftwood with the seriousness of someone performing surgery, while Sunghoon kept trying to throw marshmallows into the flames "to see what happens."

"That's not what marshmallows are for," Heeseung said, swatting his hand away.

"I'm expanding their purpose," Sunghoon laughed, reaching for another one.

"You're wasting them," Heeseung said, rolling his eyes.

I settled into a folding chair between Yunjin and Chaewon, pulling my knees up to my chest as I watched the fire throw shifting orange light across everyone's faces.

Jake was on the other side of the pit, half a bag of chips in his lap, laughing at something Sunghoon said.

He hadn't looked at me all evening. Not directly.

I told myself that was fine.

Easier, even.

Except every time the wind shifted the smoke away from him and toward me, I found myself watching the exact moment he laughed... the way his head tipped back just slightly, the way his eyes disappeared into it.

Realizing I was staring...

Finding myself doing that a lot lately.

"Ghost stories," Sunghoon announced suddenly, standing up like he was delivering an important speech. "It's a beach bonfire. It's basically the law."

"Nobody made that law," Chaewon said.

"I'm making it now."

"You're going to scare yourself," Yunjin warned.

"I fear nothing."

Twenty minutes later, deep into a story about a hitchhiker who supposedly haunted the very road we'd driven on, Sunghoon shrieked at his own sound effect and nearly knocked over the cooler.

Everyone dissolved into laughter—the kind that doubled you over, the kind where you couldn't even remember what had been so funny five seconds later.

I was laughing so hard I didn't notice I'd shifted my chair closer to the fire, leaning toward Jake's side of the circle...

Until I looked up.

He was already looking at me.

His mouth was still curved from laughing, like he'd been watching me instead of listening to Sunghoon.

The look didn't last long.

Two seconds.

Maybe three.

But it was enough to make my stomach do something complicated.

I busied myself finding a stick to poke the fire with, mostly so I'd have somewhere to put my hands.

Later, when the fire had burned down to glowing embers and Sunghoon had passed out sideways in his chair, Yunjin announced she was starving and someone needed to walk with her to the gas station up the road for snacks.

Chaewon volunteered immediately.

Heeseung, ever the responsible one, said he'd stay behind to make sure the fire was completely out and that Sunghoon didn't somehow wander into the ocean in his sleep.

Which left me and Jake.

Neither of us said anything as Yunjin and Chaewon's flashlights bobbed away down the road, their voices fading into the darkness.

The silence that followed wasn't loud.

But it wasn't comfortable either.

"You're not going to fall asleep too, are you?" I finally asked, mostly just to fill the space.

Jake let out a quiet laugh, stretching his legs toward the dying fire.

"No promises."

I pulled my sweatshirt sleeves over my hands, staring at the glowing wood instead of him.

"Sunghoon's ghost story was actually kind of terrible."

"Ten out of ten delivery, though."

"The shriek really sold it."

"He commits."

Another silence.

Not unbearable.

Just... full.

Full of things neither of us was saying.

I could feel him glance at me a few times, quick, almost hesitant.

Like he was building up to something.

Each time, my heart did that stupid, traitorous stutter.

Maybe this was the moment.

Maybe he'd finally say something about that night at the beach house.

Maybe he'd explain.

He didn't.

"You excited?" he asked instead.

"For London?"

"Yeah."

I hugged my knees a little tighter.

"Nervous, but yeah."

"You'll be fine."

I looked over at him.

"Yeah?"

"You're good at throwing yourself into things."

I blinked.

"You think so?"

"I've known you for six years," he said simply, like that answered everything.

Something about the way he said it...

Quiet.

Certain.

Like it was just a fact about the world.

It made my throat tighten unexpectedly.

I looked back at the fire before he could notice.

"You too, though," I said. "London, I mean. That's..."

"Terrifying," he finished for me.

I laughed.

"I was going to say brave."

"Same thing."

Down the road, Yunjin and Chaewon's flashlights reappeared, along with the crinkle of plastic bags and Chaewon's voice complaining loudly about the gas station's broken slushie machine.

The moment we'd almost had...

Whatever it was...

Dissolved as easily as it had formed.

Jake stood, brushing the sand from his jeans before walking over to help Heeseung put out the fire.

I watched him kneel beside the fire pit, saying something that made Heeseung laugh.

For a second, he glanced back.

Our eyes met across the dying fire.

Neither of us smiled.

Neither of us looked away.

Then Sunghoon snored loud enough to startle himself awake.

"Did I miss the snacks?" he mumbled sleepily.

Everyone burst into laughter.

The moment broke.

I laughed too.

But later that night, lying in bed with the faint smell of smoke still clinging to my sweatshirt...

I couldn't stop thinking about him.

About the almost conversation.

About the way he'd looked at me across the fire like he wanted to say something.

Maybe I should've been relieved he didn't.

Instead...

I found myself wondering what would've happened if he had.

WEEK 2

Another week goes by, and we are at the arcade this time."I refuse to lose to Sunghoon again," Chaewon announced, slamming a fistful of tokens onto the arcade counter as if she were placing a bet in Vegas.

"You say that every time," Sunghoon said.

"And I mean it every time."

"You've lost four times in a row."

"You're an asshole!"

We'd ended up at the arcade after Heeseung suggested it half-jokingly but Yunjin had taken it seriously, texting the group chat within minutes: "arcade night." Mandatory. Bring lots of quarters.

The place buzzed with flashing lights and the clicking overlapping music of a dozen different games, air thick with the strong smell of popcorn. Yunjin and Heeseung had disappeared toward the claw machines almost immediately, Yunjin insisting she had "a strategy." At the same time, Sunghoon dragged Chaewon toward the racing games for the fifth round of their ongoing bet.

Which left me wandering toward the skee-ball lanes, mostly to have something to occupy my hands with.

I didn't notice Jake had followed until a ball rolled into the lane beside mine.

"You're doing it wrong," he said.

"Excuse me?" looking a bit offended.

"Your form. You're aiming too high." He nodded at the ramp. "You want the ball to hit right before the curve, not at it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you a skee-ball expert?"

"Since I've been coming to this arcade since I was eight."

I rolled my next ball, and it landed solidly in the 10-point hole, barely, while completely missing every higher target. Jake didn't say anything, but the look on his face was unmistakably smug.

"Don't," I warned.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it very loudly."

He laughed, and the sound of it did something warm and unwelcome in my chest. So I picked up another ball, determined not to take a single glance at his smug face, and threw it with more force than necessary. It bounced off the ramp entirely and rolled onto the floor.

"Okay, that one wasn't even close to the rules I gave you," he said, grinning now.

"I panicked."

"Why would you panic? It's skee-ball."

Because you're standing right next to me and I forgot how my own arms work, I didn't say that, but that's how I felt…

"I don't know," I said instead. "Just quite clumsy today."

He picked up the stray ball from the floor and handed it back to me, his fingers brushing mine for half a second… barely anything, nothing at all, really, and I still felt it travel all the way up my arm like static.

"Try again," he said. "I'll walk you through it."

And so, for the next ten minutes, in the middle of a crowded, blaring arcade, Jake Sim stood beside me correcting my skee-ball form with much unnecessary patience, occasionally reaching over to nudge my elbow at the right angle, and I forgot, briefly, dangerously… that I was supposed to be keeping my distance.

By the end of it, I'd racked up enough tickets for a small plastic dinosaur from the prize counter. Jake had walked away with nothing but the satisfaction of having taught me, which felt somehow very him.

"You could've won something," I said as we made our way back toward the others.

"I did." He nodded at the dinosaur in my hand. "Your form's better now. That's the real prize."

"That's the corniest thing you've ever said."

"I have a lot more cornier things in me. Don't test me."

I laughed before I could stop myself, and for a second… walking beside him through the noise and light of the arcade, the little plastic dinosaur clutched in my hand, I forgot to feel guilty about it.

We found the others crowded around the claw machine, where Yunjin had apparently spent an alarming number of tokens attempting to win a giant stuffed frog.

"I'm so close," she muttered, eyes narrowed at the machine like it had personally wronged her.

"You've said that eleven times," Heeseung said.

"Twelfth time's the charm."

"That's not how the saying goes."

"Yes it does!"

Sunghoon and Chaewon reappeared moments later, Chaewon practically vibrating with victory. "I won!" she announced. "Finally. Documented. On record."

"One win in five tries," Sunghoon grumbled.

"A win is a win."

We spent another hour wandering between games, Heeseung dominating the basketball hoops with his unfair amount of skill, Sunghoon nearly getting us kicked out for climbing partially into a claw machine to "help". Yunjin, Chaewon and I splitting a giant paper plate of nachos we probably shouldn't have bought.

At one point, reaching for the same nacho, my hand brushed Jake's again.

"You keep doing that," I said before I could stop myself.

"Doing what?"

"Reaching for things right when I do."

He looked at me for a second too long, something unreadable passing behind his eyes.

"Maybe I like the same things you do," he said finally, quiet enough that only I could hear it over the arcade noise.

I didn't have a response for that. Not one I trusted myself to say out loud, anyway.

Thankfully, Sunghoon chose that exact moment to accidentally set off an alarm on one of the claw machines, and the resulting chaos gave me an excuse to look anywhere but at Jake for the rest of the night.

Thank goodness…

WEEK 3

It was nearly midnight when Yunjin texted the group chat: "does anyone else NEED boba right now or is it just me"

Within a couple of minutes, Chaewon had replied with exclamation points and her order. Right after, Sunghoon had somehow agreed which I thought he would be sleeping. By the time I finished typing my own reply, Heeseung said that he'll drive and Jake had said nothing at all… which was somehow more unsettling than if he'd said something.

We piled into Heeseung's car twenty minutes later, all six of us crammed in despite the fact that it technically only fit five comfortably since Heeseung decided to take the SUV. I ended up in the middle of the backseat, wedged between Chaewon and Jake, my shoulder pressed against his with absolutely no room to create distance.

I spent the entire fifteen minute drive intensely, painfully aware of every place our arms brushed against each other over every bump in the road.

"You're quiet," Chaewon whispered to me at one point, while Sunghoon argued loudly with Heeseung over the radio up front.

"I'm tired."

"Mm." She didn't sound convinced. Her eyes flickered meaningfully toward Jake, then back to me, and I shot her a look that hopefully communicated do not.

She grinned and said nothing else, which somehow felt worse.

The boba shop was nearly empty at that hour, glowing lights buzzing overhead, a tired employee behind the counter who looked up slightly when six very loud college students walked through the door.

"I want the one with that weird syrup," Sunghoon announced, squinting at the menu like it owed him an explanation.

"They're called popping boba," Heeseung said.

"I know what they're called. I said weird that on purpose."

We ordered too much, per usual, and took the corner table by the window, spreading out across the scattered chairs. Conversation moved easily, the way it always did with this group, Yunjin spilling an exaggerated story about her roommate, Sunghoon and Heeseung arguing about something sports-related that I stopped following halfway through, Chaewon laughing so hard at one point she nearly spit out her drink.

I found myself, more than once, glancing across the table at Jake, who was laughing along with everyone else, easy and unguarded in a way that made something in my chest ache.

At one point, our eyes met across the table, and instead of looking away immediately like I usually did, I let myself hold his gaze for one extra second.

He smiled. Small. Just for me.

I looked down at my drink, feeling my face warm despite the boba shop's aggressive air conditioning.

By the time we went back into the car for the drive home, everyone had gone quieter, the late hour finally catching up with all of us. Chaewon fell asleep against the window almost instantly. Sunghoon was scrolling through his phone with heavy eyelids. Even Yunjin had stopped talking, humming along softly to whatever Heeseung had put on the radio.

Which left me and Jake, once again pressed shoulder to shoulder in the backseat, surrounded by people too tired to notice either of us.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, so only I could hear.

"Yeah. Why?" tried to say dryly.

"You've been quiet tonight."

I shrugged, watching the streetlights slide past the window. "Just thinking."

"About?"

You. Always you, lately. Ugh…

"London," I said instead. "It's getting close."

He was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. It is."

Something in his voice made me glance over at him. In the dim light of passing streetlamps, his expression looked almost soft. Almost like he wanted to say something else. Almost…

"Jake—"

"We're here," Heeseung announced loudly from the front, pulling into Yunjin's driveway, and whatever moment had been building dissolved instantly into the chaos of everyone waking up and unfolding themselves from the car.

I told myself it didn't matter, whatever he'd almost said. It won't change anything…

I told myself that a lot, too.

 WEEK 4

With just under three weeks left before everyone scattered in different directions, Yunjin decided it was time for what she dramatically called "The Great London Shopping Trip," which mostly meant dragging me and Chaewon to the mall for an entire day.

"You need an actual coat," Yunjin said, holding up a wool peacoat against my shoulders and squinting critically. "London is not like summer in California weather."

"I have a coat."

"You have a hoodie you call a coat."

"...Fair, I guess."

Chaewon came back from a nearby rack holding up two nearly identical black sweaters. "Okay, which one says 'effortlessly European chic' and which one says 'I just got this from a clearance rack'?"

"They're the same sweater," I said.

"They are NOT."

We spent the next two hours moving from store to store, Yunjin narrating everything like a fashion documentary, Chaewon trying on hats she had absolutely no intentions of buying, and just me slowly accumulating a small pile of practical, boring, extremely very necessary items: a proper umbrella, a scarf, a coat that Yunjin approved of after four separate outfit changes in the fitting room.

"I'm going to miss this," Chaewon said suddenly, while we sat at the food court eating overpriced pretzels. "Like… really miss it. All of us being in the same place."

"Me too," Yunjin said, quieter than usual.

I felt something tighten in my chest. "It's not forever. We'll all be back."

"I know." Chaewon picked at her pretzel. "It's just weird. This whole summer feels like it's counting down to something."

None of us said anything for a second, and I knew, without either of them saying it out loud… that they were both thinking about the same thing I was.

Jake. London. The two of us, somehow, ending up in the same city an ocean away from everyone else.

"Speaking of counting down," Yunjin said, clearly deciding to just address it directly, "are you ever going to tell us what's actually going on with you and Jake?"

"Nothing's going on."

"y/n."

"I mean it. We're just... figuring out how to be normal around each other again."

Chaewon raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you call all that eye contact at the arcade?"

"What eye contact?" getting a bit defensive.

"The one where you two forgot the rest of us existed for like a full minute."

"That did not happen."

"It happened," Yunjin confirmed. "Heeseung noticed too. He asked me about it later."

I felt my face heat up. "There's nothing to notice. We're just... trying to be friends again. Figuring things out."

Yunjin and Chaewon exchanged a look, the kind of look that said they didn't believe me for a second, but were choosing, for now, to let it go.

"Okay," Yunjin said, dragging out the word skeptically. "Well. Whatever's going on, or not going on—" she smirked, "you're going to be living in the same city as him for a whole semester. So."

"So?"

"So maybe figure it out before you're both across an ocean pretending nothing's happening."

I didn't have a response for that.

Mostly because some small, quiet part of me was already dreading exactly that.

WEEK 5

Two weeks before everyone left, Heeseung suggested, with surprising genuineness for someone who usually communicated primarily through sarcasm, that we should do something low-key. "Not the beach again. Not another loud thing. Just... us. A picnic, maybe."

Which was how we ended up spread across a blanket in the park near Yunjin's house on a lazy Sunday afternoon, a spread of sandwiches and fruit and a whole pile of snacks between us, the late afternoon sun shining gold through the trees overhead.

It was quieter than our usual hangouts. Slower. Sunghoon, for once, seemed satisfied to just lie back in the grass with his eyes closed, occasionally throwing in a comment. Chaewon had brought a portable speaker playing something soft and new. Yunjin was working her way through a container of strawberries with much focused determination.

I sat near the edge of the blanket, legs stretched out in front of me, watching the clouds drift lazily overhead.

Jake settled down beside me at some point… not dramatically, not with any particular meaning behind it, just naturally, the way he always used to before everything got complicated.

"You've gone quiet again," he said, echoing the boba shop night without seeming to realize it.

"Just enjoying it. The quiet."

"Fair."

We sat there for a while without talking, and for once, it didn't feel heavy. It felt almost like it used to... comfortable, easy, the kind of silence that didn't need any filling.

"Can I ask you something?" he said eventually, voice careful in a way that immediately put me on alert.

My stomach tightened. "Sure."

"Are you excited? Actually excited. Not just… nervous, excited. Actually looking forward to it."

It wasn't the question I was expecting. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I think so. It feels like... I don't know. A reset button."

He nodded slowly, picking at a piece of grass. "Yeah. I get that."

"Do you need one too?"

He was quiet for a moment, longer than the question probably warranted. "Maybe," he said finally. "There's some stuff I've been wanting to leave behind. Or fix. I haven't decided which yet."

Something in the way he said it made my chest ache with a feeling I didn't want to name. I wanted, so badly, to ask him what he meant. Whether stuff meant that night. Whether fix meant us.

But before I could work up the nerve, Sunghoon's voice cut through the quiet.

"Okay, does anyone else think it's suspicious how good these strawberries are? Like, unnaturally good?"

"They're strawberries, Sunghoon," Heeseung said.

"Exactly. Suspicious."

The moment faded into laughter, into Yunjin defending her strawberry selecting skills with the intensity of a courtroom argument, and whatever Jake had been about to say, or almost say, slipped away with it.

He caught my eye once more before the conversation fully swallowed us back up, something apologetic in his expression, like he knew exactly what he'd almost done and wasn't sure if he regretted the interruption or was relieved by it.

I wasn't sure which one I was, either.

WEEK 6

"Absolutely not," Chaewon said, staring at the horror movie Sunghoon had pulled up. "I will not be sleeping tonight if we watch that."

"That's the whole point of horror movies."

"No no, the point is to be scared for two hours, not to lie awake until sunrise still convinced myself that something's under my bed."

They eventually settled… after nearly twenty minutes of increasingly ridiculous debate, on an old romantic comedy that Yunjin swore was a classic and everyone else pretended to remember for the sake of ending the argument.

We crowded into Heeseung's living room, blankets and pillows dragged from every corner of the house, the six of us spread across the couch and floor in a configuration that had clearly not been planned but somehow worked anyway. Sunghoon and Chaewon claimed the couch spread out. Yunjin and Heeseung took the loveseat. Which left me and Jake on the floor, backs against the couch, a single shared blanket draped over both our laps because apparently no one had thought to bring enough for everyone.

I was hyperaware of every inch of space… or lack of it, between us.

The movie played, some overly dramatic plot about these mistaken identities and a wedding gone wrong, but I found myself only half paying attention, more aware of Jake's shoulder occasionally brushing mine, of the warmth thats radiating from him under the shared blanket, of the way his breathing seemed to slow every time something quiet happened on screen.

Halfway through, during a particularly cheesy declaration of love scene, Sunghoon made a loud gagging noise. "This is so unrealistic. Nobody actually says stuff like that."

"Some people do," Yunjin argued.

"Nobody I know."

"That's because you scare everyone away before they get the chance."

"Rude. Accurate. But rude."

I laughed, and beside me, Jake laughed too, low and quiet, close enough that I felt it more than heard it.

"Do you believe in that?" I asked without really thinking it through. "Big dramatic confessions?"

He considered the question seriously, which surprised me. "I think... the real ones are usually quieter than that. Not some big speech in the rain." He glanced at me, something careful in his expression. "I think the real ones happen in normal moments. When you're not expecting it."

My heart was doing something complicated and loud in my chest.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Maybe."

Neither of us said anything else, but I noticed, sometime later, that his hand had found its way closer to mine under the shared blanket, not touching, not quite, but close. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of it.

I didn't move away.

I didn't move closer, either.

I just sat there, hyperaware, heart pounding, while a fictional couple on screen finally got their happy ending, and the six of us watched in the dark, and Jake's hand stayed exactly where it was… close, unclaimed, full of everything neither of us was saying.

By the time the credits rolled and the lights came back on, the moment had passed, swallowed by Sunghoon's loud complaints about the ending and Chaewon's insistence that it was, in fact, "a perfect film, actually," and I told myself I'd imagined the whole thing.

I was getting very good at telling myself things this summer.

WEEK 7

It was Jake's idea, which surprised everyone, including… I think, himself.

"Anyone want to just... drive somewhere? No plan. Just drive."

It was a lazy Tuesday evening, the kind where nobody had anything better to do, and somehow it turned into all six of us piled into Heeseung's car again, windows down, no destination in mind, just the open road and the radio turned up loud enough to drown out any need for real conversation.

We ended up almost an hour outside town, on a stretch of road that curved along the coastline, cliffs dropping down to dark water on one side, the last light of sunset bleeding orange and pink across the horizon.

Heeseung pulled over at a scenic lookout, mostly because Yunjin insisted, and we all go out to watch the sunset properly.

The group scattered slightly, Sunghoon and Chaewon wandering toward the cliff edge to take pictures, Yunjin and Heeseung sitting on the hood of the car, deep in some quiet conversation of their own.

Which left me and Jake… again, standing a little apart from everyone, watching the sky change colors over the water.

"This was a good idea," I said.

"I have them occasionally."

"Rare, but they happen."

He smiled, looking out at the water instead of at me. "I used to come out here a lot. Freshman year. When things got overwhelming."

"I didn't know that."

"There's a lot you don't know," he said, and something about his tone made it not quite a joke.

I looked at him. "Like what?"

He was quiet for a long moment, jaw tight, like he was weighing something carefully.

"y/n—" he started.

My heart stopped.

"Yeah?"

He looked at me then, really looked, something raw and unguarded in his expression that I hadn't seen from him in over a year. The kind of look that made my breath catch, that made me forget, for one dangerous second, all the reasons I'd built the walls in the first place.

"That night," he said quietly. "Last summer. I—"

"GUYS." Sunghoon's voice cut through the moment like a knife. "You need to see this sunset from over here, it's insane—"

Jake's jaw tightened. Whatever he'd been about to say disappeared behind his usual careful expression, tucked away again.

"We should—" he gestured toward the others.

"Yeah," I said, my voice barely steady. "We should."

We walked back toward the group without finishing whatever that had almost been, and I spent the entire drive home staring out the window, replaying the moment on a loop, wondering what he'd almost said, wondering if I'd ever get another chance to hear it.

WEEK 8 

The night before everyone started leaving, Yunjin flying out first, then Chaewon, then more flights for the rest of us over the following days, we gathered for one final dinner at the little Italian place near the boardwalk where we'd celebrated every birthday, every ending of a school year, every milestone since freshman year.

The table was loud with conversation, plates passed back and forth, the kind of easy chaos that only happened when six people had known each other long enough to stop performing for one another.

"I can't believe this is it," Chaewon said at one point, swirling pasta around her fork without actually eating it. "Like… this exact group. All six of us, together, before everything changes."

"We'll see each other again," Heeseung said. "It's not, like, permanent."

"I know. It's just…" she sighed. "It feels big."

It did feel big. I felt it too, sitting there, looking around the table at each of their faces, Yunjin mid laugh at something Sunghoon said, Heeseung quietly amused in the way he always was, Chaewon's eyes a little too bright, Sunghoon loud and warm and constant.

And Jake, across the table, watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

We hadn't talked, really talked, since the lookout point. Whatever he'd almost told me remained unsaid, hovering somewhere between us, and I didn't know if I was more frustrated by that or relieved.

After dinner, we walked along the boardwalk one last time, the ocean dark and steady beside us, string lights strung between lampposts casting everything in a soft golden glow.

"To London," Yunjin said, holding up her half-finished slushie like a toast. "And to whatever happens there."

"To London," everyone echoed, clinking cups and cones together.

Jake's eyes found mine across the small circle, and for a second, neither of us looked away.

To London, I thought, and to whatever this is, and to whatever it's going to become.

We said our goodbyes slowly, reluctantly, hugs lasting a bit too long, promises to text made a dozen times over. Yunjin cried, then blamed it on her allergies that she didn't have. Sunghoon tried to lighten the mood and ended up getting a little emotional himself, which none of us let him live down.

When it was Jake's turn, he pulled me into a hug the same way he had at the beginning of the summer… careful, warm, lingering just slightly too long to be casual.

"See you in London," he murmured against my ear, quiet enough that only I could hear it.

My throat tightened. "Yeah," I managed. "See you there."

We pulled apart, and for a moment his hand brushed mine, fingers catching for just a second before letting go.

Neither of us said anything else.

There was nothing left to say… not yet, not with everyone watching, not with a year of unresolved history still sitting heavy between us.

But something had shifted, quietly, over the course of that summer. Something neither of us had fixed, or named, or confessed.

Just something that was, unmistakably, still there.

Its getting real…

Packing for London felt unreal in a way I hadn't expected.

I spent my last two days at home surrounded by half filled suitcases, my mom hovering in the doorway, offering unasked-for folding advice, my little brother periodically wandering in to ask if he could have my room while I was gone ("No," I told him, for the fourth time. It's just for a semester).

"You have everything?" my mom asked the night before my flight, sitting on the edge of my bed while I did one final check of my carry-on. "Passport, visa documents, adapter—"

"Mom. I've checked like six times."

"Check a seventh."

I checked a seventh time, mostly to make her feel better.

That night, unable to sleep, I lay in my childhood bedroom staring at the ceiling, my suitcase zipped and waiting by the door, and let myself feel the full weight of what was about to happen. A whole semester. An entire ocean between me and everything familiar.

And somewhere in that unfamiliar city, Jake.

I didn't let myself think too hard about that part.

The morning of my flight was a blur: my dad insisting on driving me to the airport despite my protests that an Uber would be easier, my mom crying at security in a way that made me cry too, my brother giving me an awkward, too tight hug that surprised both of us.

"Don't die in London," he said, which was, I supposed, his version of I'll miss you.

"I'll try my best."

The flight itself passed in a strange, in a blur of turbulence and bad airplane food and an attempt at sleep that mostly failed. I spent most of the eleven hours staring out the window at clouds, half-watching a movie I couldn't focus on, my mind drifting, as it so often did that summer, back to a boardwalk lit with string lights, a hand brushing mine, three words said too quietly for anyone else to hear.

See you in London.

When I finally landed, stepping off the plane into the crowded, unfamiliar bustle of Heathrow, exhaustion and adrenaline hit me in equal measure. Everything felt too bright, too loud, too real.

I navigated customs on autopilot, dragged my suitcases through endless corridors, and finally stepped outside into the cool London air that smelled like rain and something entirely new.

The city unfolded around me on the taxi ride to campus, red buses, narrow streets, buildings that looked older than anything back home, a sky heavy with clouds that somehow still managed to feel beautiful. I pressed my forehead against the window, watching it all pass by, equal parts terrified and thrilled.

A fresh start, I reminded myself. This is what you wanted.

The university's international housing office was a small, overly warm room tucked into the corner of a much larger administrative building, staffed by a cheerful woman who handed me a folder of paperwork and a single silver key with practiced efficiency.

"Building E, room 1009," she said. "Elevator's down the hall, but fair warning, it's a bit temperamental. Stairs are usually faster."

I thanked her, gathered my suitcases, and made my way through unfamiliar hallways, following signs toward Building E, my heart doing something anxious and fluttery with every step.

The dorm itself was older than I expected, brick walls and narrow windows, hallways lined with identical wooden doors. I found room 1009 near the end of the second-floor hallway, my key sticking slightly in the lock before finally giving way.

The room was small but bright, two beds tucked against opposite walls, one already claimed, a scattering of belongings, a half unpacked suitcase, a string of fairy lights draped lazily over the headboard.

"Oh my gosh, hi!" A girl popped up from where she'd been kneeling by her dresser, dark curly hair pulled into a messy bun, a warm smile immediately putting me at ease. "You must be y/n. I'm Sophia."

"Hi." I set my suitcases down, already feeling some of the tension in my shoulders ease. "Sorry, was I supposed to text ahead or—"

"No, no, don't worry about it, I just got here myself like an hour ago." She gestured vaguely at the chaos of her side of the room. "Clearly still figuring out where anything goes."

We spent the next twenty minutes in easy small talk while I started unpacking, where we were both from, what we were studying, mutual nervous excitement about the semester ahead. Sophia was easy to talk to, warm in a way that made the unfamiliar room feel a little more like it could eventually become home.

"I'm starving," she said eventually, glancing at the small clock on her desk. "I think there's a kitchen down the hall? I might go find snacks. You want anything?"

"I'm okay, thanks. I think I'm just going to keep unpacking."

"Ok! I'll bring something back just in case!"

She disappeared out the door, and I turned back to my suitcase, pulling out clothes and beginning the slow process of finding places for everything in the small closet and dresser that would apparently be mine for the next several months.

About twenty minutes in, I realized I'd left my toiletry bag zipped inside my carry-on, which I'd left just outside the door in the narrow hallway alcove where luggage was apparently supposed to wait until move-in was fully complete.

I stepped out into the hallway to grab it.

At that exact moment, the door directly across from mine opened.

I looked up.

And froze.

Jake stood in the doorway of the room across the hall, mid-conversation with someone I couldn't see inside, a box tucked under one arm, his expression caught somewhere between mid-sentence and complete shock as his eyes landed on me.

Neither of us said anything.

For a long moment, the hallway seemed to shrink around us, the vibrant lights overhead suddenly too bright, the space between our two doorways feeling impossibly small.

His mouth opened slightly, like he was about to say something, then closed again, like he couldn't quite find the words either.

I felt my heart slam against my ribs, disbelief and something far more complicated crashing over me all at once.

Because there was no way.

There was absolutely no way.

Out of an entire university, an entire building, an entire hallway of identical wooden doors…

Jake was my neighbor.

And for the rest of the semester, there would be no avoiding him at all…

PART 2? WHAT YOU NEVER KNEW...

My first fic! Please comment with any feedback or anything you really liked! But I do hope you like the story so far! Part 2 will be more interesting hopefully… and spicer maybe…

wonluvzu taglist: @royallycraftyimp

[wonluvzu]

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER

(TEASER) PART 1

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ One summer. One party. One misunderstanding that completely changed their friendship. In their third year of college, they are forced to stay connected through their high school friend group. Until they find out they both signed up for the same study abroad program in London, where fate has one more surprise waiting for them...

𝙚𝙭 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙-ish! 𝙟𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 friendship fallout, slowburn, angst, fluff, tension, in college, misunderstanding, forced proximity, profanity, banter, arguing, ex friend/enemy to lovers? reader acts cold (tries to) wc:?

One summer. One party. One moment that changed everything.

Jake was my best friend.

The person who annoyed me more than anyone else, yet somehow the person I always looked for in every room.

Everyone told me it was obvious.

The way we teased each other. The way we always found excuses to be together. The way we looked at each other when we thought no one was watching.

But I never said anything.

Because what if I was wrong?

Then came the last night of summer.

A beach house party. A little too much to drink. And a moment I was never supposed to see.

I opened a door and saw Jake holding someone else.

Before I could hear an explanation, before I could understand what was happening, I walked away.

“It wasn’t what it looked like.”

But how could I believe him?

“You don’t have to explain to me… we’re just friends, right?”

Those were the last words I said before walking away.

A year later, I convinced myself I’d be able to avoid Jake.

I was so wrong.

My first fic I am writing so hopefully it will be done soon!