hiii i'm twocups but my friends call me KJ! ♡ i'm 24, an enfp and i luvvvv enhypen, writing (esp alternative universes!), minecraft and strawberries! i began writing yearsss ago and i stopped for a bit but made my comeback in 2025 with enhypen fics. i hope you like my works!
(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ masterlist over here! ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
please keep in mind that i don't do requests and that i only really write when i feel like it. with that being said i hope we can get along! my inbox is always open!
to the anon who asked about heeseung in my 8th member series, i will address u in a bit i just need time to think about how to answer/address it properly bcuz i do have a final answer and i have been meaning to address it😭❤️
hiii omg i loveeeedddddd “pretty wet petals” i was wondering if you could do another fic of jake. so its about jake husband and reader wife is pregnant, jake thinks she looks beautiful and he gets turned on by how shes getting all curvier and chunkier her boobs are also getting bigger and rounder and he makes love to her at night (a smut scene)
i just thought maybe you could eat this!!❤️❤️
hi my darlingggg tysm im so happy u liked that fic hehe 🤪💛💛🥰
as for your request please read my pinned post! it definitely is a good idea though!! 👅
aaa so glad that you liked cherry cherry 🥹🥹🥹 ilysm bestie
ily moreeee omg OFC i would love it your a/b/o fics are literally right up my alley and the highest (1st even lmao) on my list. omegaverse fics are my #1 FAVVV genre and i'm so so happy im friends with someone who knows how to write it so well with so much detail and emotion, and well paced not too rushed so thank YOU nanda 😭😭💕💕💕 istg cherry cherry is ALL i've been thinking about since last night when i read it 🙂↔️ ur a talented writer and i kno im gonna love part 2 as well!
synopsis. jay is everything an alpha should be: respectful, mature, impossibly considerate. unfortunately, the omega he falls for at first sight thinks he’s a performative fraud. determined to prove he’s genuinely a good alpha, jay sets out to win over a man-hater (you!) while trying not to lose his mind over your smile, your sharp tongue, and, regrettably—your very distracting chest. oh goddess of the moon, please show him mercy! he swears he’s not a pervert. a spin-off from love me (k)not and mark me yours!
pairing. alpha!jay x omega!female reader
genre(s). omegaverse, rom-com, (one-sided) enemies-to-lovers, love at first sight, light angst, fluff
warnings. jay pervert allegation, reader has above-average boobs, profanity, whole &team are assholes here sorry, ex-boyfriend maki, cheating, gaslighting, reader is a fashion student, enhypen ensemble, jay is a sweetheart, reader is just a complex character please try to understand her, nesting, vulnerability and insecurity, arranged date, not beta read we die like injang, please let me know if i missed anything <3
word count. 16,983 words
note. this is soooo long overdue i'm sorry :( but it's my first ever jay fic though so we cheer! have fun reading and lmk what you think <3
“Peach or cherry?”
Jay is losing his mind and all Jake cares about is whether he prefers ass or boobs.
The frat house is crowded as usual, with people getting drunk and high on whatever substances they prefer in their system. On any other night, Jay would find the scene irritable and annoying.
After all, he always keeps himself in check, always sober and in control of his actions and thoughts, always so, so responsible. He’d prefer watching from the sidelines and being of help for when Riki starts throwing up from too much drinking or when Heeseung sings too loud after his second fill.
Jay is always responsible. He never lets himself on the loose.
But tonight, as the aftermath of his near-fight with Heeseung and him having to rush to the hospital after the burgundy-haired alpha collapsed in his omega’s doorway, despite Jay himself being too shaken to stand, he thinks he’s fine with getting slightly reckless.
Slightly reckless, in this case, is drinking more than the two red cups he usually gets.
“Why are we using fruits to represent anatomy?”
Back to the situation at hand, where he’s sitting on top of a tall stool around the kitchen island, Sunoo is throwing Jake a grimace. Beside him, Riki already has his head bobbing to the music, a telltale sign of a blackout drunk that would usually result in Jay and Sunoo cleaning his mess up. A defeated sigh leaves his lips involuntarily.
Jay downs another shot.
"I don't want to be too explicit," Jake shrugs, like it's the most normal thing to do. "So, peach or cherry?"
Jay knows how this will go.
Riki is an ass guy, judging from the way he likes to slap anyone's butt within his proximity. Jake is both because he's an indecisive little shit who's just too greedy to pick. If pussy was on the options, he'd pick all three.
Sunoo, despite his reckless endeavor with alphas, Jay has never heard him doing anything more than a messy make-out and a blowjob. But he might be an ass guy too, just because he has a juicy fat ass. Heeseung—well, if he was here, anyway—would've said boobs, because Jay knows him a little too well which makes him privy to the former's (previously) sexually active life.
And Jay—he's too respectful to even answer that.
True to his own guess, Riki shakes his head drunkenly from beside an expressionless Sunoo. "My girl is perfect," he says, then grins cheekily. "But I like taking her from the back. Shit, you shouldn't know that."
"We shouldn't, dumbass. Why are you airing out your bedroom activities to us?" Sunoo rolls his eyes, but there's no bite to it. Everybody knows how loose Riki's tongue can get when he's wasted. On any other sober days, he would gate-keep the hell out of his omega. "Anyway, peach."
Jay has guessed almost everything right. He downs another shot.
A shit-eating grin appears on Jake's face. "I knew it, Sunny, you're an ass guy!"
"It's not really a groundbreaking discovery," Sunoo shrugs his shoulders, then turns to Jay. "Jay hyung, what about you?"
Jay is a respectful guy, so there's no way he would ever answer that. He shakes his head, already dizzy from the buzzing alcohol in his system.
"I don't like talking about this."
A chorus of groans echoes around the island. Only Sunoo smiles at him.
"You're no fun, Jjongsaeng," Jake shoves his shoulders playfully. "It's harmless conversation. As for me, I like anything they give me, but I love pussy the most. Which will make me a butterfly guy."
Sunoo lets out a loud groan, while Riki is already giggling. "Are you calling pussy a butterfly? Hyung, please shut the fuck up."
It's ridiculous, really. Jay loves his friends, but they sometimes do questionable things that makes him want to rip his own hair out. If Jungwon was here, he would be up his ass and plot ways to get on his nerves. If Sunghoon was here, well, Jay likes his company the most because he's the calmest and doesn't say controversial shits that could get them cancelled. His friends can be insufferable sometimes, but the most annoying one at this moment is none other than Heeseung.
Thinking about the burgundy-haired alpha just makes his wolf bitter all over again. Seriously, what did he do wrong? Heeseung should've been thanking him instead for keeping his omega dry from the rain. Not taking him down in an almost-fistful physical attack, and definitely not this silent treatment between them that makes their shared apartment smaller than it is, on-edge pheromones suffocating the air.
Jay is pissed. Pissed that they haven't made up yet and pissed at himself for being too kind.
Is he too kind? Should he just let her get soaked in the rain?
He grabs his red cup, ready to feel the alcohol again, and sighs quietly when there's only a drop left inside. Jay is about to stand and refill more booze, but he's stopped by a firm hand on his wrist.
He looks up to a worried Sunoo.
The younger alpha gives him a once-over. He probably looks so red in the face right now, but nobody seems to notice because Jake and Riki are somehow trying to bite each other's heads off arguing about the proper fruit representative for a pussy.
"You're drinking a lot tonight," Sunoo finally says, ever the observant. "Did something happen?"
Everything happened.
Is what Jay wants to say badly.
That near-fight with Heeseung happened. That still-awkward tension between him and Riki's mate happened. That weird glances mated alphas throw at him whenever he's around their omegas happened. That flirty and hopeful stares omegas give him whenever he so as looks their way happened.
And, despite everything, him still not meeting his mate happened.
If anyone should be envious, it's Jay. Not Heeseung. Not Riki.
"Envious of?"
Shit. He said that out loud, didn't he?
He was about to deflect, but now that Sunoo is fixing him with that foxy gaze, glinting with relentless curiosity that won't back down no matter the excuses, Jay knows he has nowhere to go. He looks to his left, where Jake and Riki has reconciled and agree that no fruit matches with a pussy's shape because apparently pussy is too special for fruit comparisons, settling on calling it flower instead, and now have started discussing about how diabolical it is to compare a dick to an eggplant, and sighs.
Jay thinks he needs new friends. Better friends, even. Except Sunoo. And Sunghoon.
"Hyung?"
When Jay's sure that Jake and Riki are too wasted and distracted to eavesdrop, he finally relents.
"I…Sunoo-yah," he swipes a tongue across his bottom lip. "Is there something wrong with me?"
This is why he hates getting drunk. Because his body recognises alcohol as invitation to start talking deep shits and pouring his heart out like an endless stream of river. It's not a bad thing to be vulnerable, but Jay has guarded his heart so tight that only certain people have the privilege to listen to his deepest secrets.
Thankfully, tonight is just his luck. Rather than exposing himself to a stranger, which has been his biggest fear when getting drunk, it's Sunoo who's listening to him attentively. The brown-haired alpha is looking at him softly, amber eyes full of understanding and encouragement, and it makes the tension in his shoulders slowly melt away.
"Why'd you say that?"
Jay is quiet for a moment. Right, why would he? Then he remembers Heeseung and Riki, those omegas and alphas, and, finally—his own wolf.
"Am I too…" he sucks in a breath, not wanting to sound self-absorbed, but it's what he's been hearing from people.
"Am I too much of a green flag?"
Sunoo didn't expect that from him, judging by the micro-surprise in his expression. Maybe he should stop there and let Sunoo reply, but now that he finally lets it out, Jay finds it easy to just continue.
"Is it wrong to be a kind alpha? I think it wasn't, but seeing how anxious and weary alphas can get when I'm being a gentleman to their omegas…" he trails off, hating the fact that it's his best friends' faces that appear on his mind. "I think it's a mistake. I shouldn't be too kind, right?"
There's a muffled silence between them, dampened by the loud bass from the living room and the sharp citrus turning bitter in the air. Jay looks off to the kitchen island, realising that it's now just him and Sunoo in that space; Jake and Riki are now joining the beer pong just getting started in the backyard.
Across from him, a look of understanding crosses Sunoo's face.
"There's no such thing as being too kind, hyung."
"Then why am I being punished for it?" He cuts in sharply. "Why do I feel bad for doing those things to them?"
He still remembers, the day Riki showed up in his apartment, crying because his lifelong crush wanted Jay to help her with her heat. Riki begged him not to agree, and Jay had done so—it didn't feel right to do that, especially when he knows about the younger boy's feelings for his childhood friend. But then Riki changed his mind and convinced him to say yes, because 'I didn't want her to go through it alone in indescribable pain, and I don't want to ruin our friendship if it's not me that she wanted. Please help me, hyung, she's just presented as an omega. It'll be too dangerous for her to do it alone.'
He had agreed out of sympathy for his younger friend, but somehow him agreeing had bloomed jealousy in the alpha's heart. Jay understands—Riki is still too young, and young alphas are the most territorial creatures to walk on this Earth—but it still hurts his feeling to be treated like a Mr. Steal Your Girl, when he has never stolen anything except omegas' hearts unintentionally.
Riki had apologised and admitted to his immaturity, but still, it wasn't enough to erase weeks of awkward silences and clipped conversations over a single apology. His omega has been extra cautious around Jay, and it always makes him sore to hold back from being himself around her. Or around any taken omegas, for the record.
So, really, he'd appreciate it a lot if Sunoo could just be honest with him and tell him, 'Yes, hyung, you're too kind for your own good,' instead of sugarcoating it.
But of course Sunoo would say the opposite.
"The ones who did that to you aren't the people you helped, right?" Sunoo says, smooth voice weaving through the music like it's meant to find Jay no matter the noise. "It's always the jealous alphas. But I'm sure those omegas were thankful for you for helping them. You're not being punished, hyung. You're just too good that you kinda intimidated these alphas into thinking that their mates would run to you the second they look away."
Jay doesn't know what to say to that. Sunoo always has this way of charming people with his words, the kind that can convince a criminal that they're a saint with that lilt in his voice that only he has. He's not sure if Sunoo really means it, or if it's the truth as it is.
The younger alpha sees right through him. "You're doubting me."
"No! No, I'm just—" Jay pauses, hating the fact that he is indeed doubting his friend's words, and decides to just be honest. "Okay—yeah. You're right. It's hard to believe you."
Sunoo hums, not the slightest offended. He leans forward, turning his head to watch the ongoing beer pong, seen through the transparent sliding door. Jay follows his line of sight, and feels his chest tighten when he sees Riki making out with his omega.
It's the familiar ache that he felt when he saw the mating mark on Riki's neck. The same longing he feels whenever his mated teammates talk about their fulfilled love life. It's like a circle of bubble that Jay doesn't dare burst, being the only one outside of a room full of people who have found the meaning of love.
I wish I could have that too.
Sunoo catches him before he could mask his scent. He throws Jay an expressionless look. For a moment, Jay prepares himself for a 'Gotcha!' comment from him, but the younger alpha only gives him a close-lipped smile.
"Ah, hyung. I should've known. You want a mate, don't you?"
"I don't," Jay is quick to deny, but upon seeing the knowing glint in Sunoo's eyes, he realises there's no point in denying. He sighs for the umpteenth time that night.
"Yes, I do. But it's not as easy as you might think."
"Why? I'm pretty sure there are many omegas who'd throw themselves at you."
"But I can't because I…" Jay licks his lips, "I don't find anyone I like enough yet."
Sunoo doesn't say anything for a long, stretched moment. Jay almost squirms under his dissecting eyes. It feels as though Sunoo is picking him apart by his gaze and his scent alone, seeing parts of himself that he wouldn't show bare. It's unnerving yet weirdly comforting at the same time, having someone who can see right through him despite the walls he built.
"Hyung, everything about this gentleman persona and you wanting a mate—there's only one thing I can say."
Jay swallows thickly, mind sobering up with each passing second. "What?"
"You are with this kindness not without a purpose," Sunoo says calmly, like he hasn't just dropped the most riddled sentence that sounds too Shakespeare-ish to Jay's drunken mind.
"Huh?"
"I'm saying, there is someone out there who needs your kindness, hyung. Your patience. Your heart," Sunoo flashes him a small smile, sincere and genuine. "You'll meet them someday. And when you do, you'll understand why you are the way you are. You are never too much for someone who's meant to hold you."
Jay hears him, truly, but that promise sounds so distant and far away. Like a reality he's witnessesing from a different universe, through a portal of lifelong waiting and yearning. He wants to believe it, wants to hold onto every syllable and let it be his new faith, but the deepest, ugly part of him doesn't believe he belongs to that kind of destiny.
He doesn't say anything. Not that he has the chance to when the smell of burning chocolate greets his senses and soon, an upset Jungwon is already filling up the space with his broad shoulders and moody pheromones.
A black leather jacket, zipped up to his chin, hugs his body, highlighting his wide figure under the kitchen light, paired with leather pants. Jungwon's hair is messy, untamed around the frame of his eyes, and Jay knows why when he sees the helmet in his arm.
"Hyung, be honest. Do I look too baby-faced?" The alpha pouts, gesturing at his body. "Even after wearing this whole gear? I even rode my precious bike to see her!"
Jay doesn't have to stay to know that Jungwon's whining about the older omega he has a crush on, someone that used to babysit him when he was 10 years old and is now still treating him like a baby. He would've stayed to listen and comfort the younger alpha, really, but unfortunately for Jungwon, Jay also needs some comfort for himself before he loses his fucking mind.
He grabs his red cup and stands up, needing the alcohol to be in his system now more than anything. The other two alphas don't notice him leaving, and if they do, Jay's sure Sunoo's more interested to hear about Jungwon's failing love life than his already-doomed one.
Jay makes his way through the crowd, giving polite smiles to everyone in his way. He's not really a fan of this kind of crowd—it's more of Heeseung's and Riki's crowd—but it's the least of his concerns now. The alpha squeezes past dancing omegas whose stares linger, past a group of alphas who give him a nod of acknowledgement, past a pair of lovers making out on the wall.
That makes him falter.
Jay blames it on the alcohol. Really, he's usually not like this. It's actually easier to act like not having a mate among friends who are already mated doesn't affect him when his thoughts are more coherent and making sense. But right now, as he watches the couple giggling at each other, lips in ears and soft eyes looking into soft eyes, a pinch of envy twists in his chest.
Jay huffs, leaving the scene faster than he'd like to admit. Seriously, if he was so good and kind like everybody had said, if he's the picture-perfect alpha like every family member had boasted about, then why is it only him alone with no one to hold? Why is it always him who's cleaning after everybody's mess when he only watches on the sidelines as they get their happy ending? Why is it that people who run from love are more favoured than someone who's always been ready like him?
What about him? What about his happy ending?
After what felt like hours, Jay finally finds his booze. Jake has an eccentric preference of placing the booth all over the frat house, and the one in the kitchen has long ran out. He's standing at the booth by the stairs right now, the majority of them still untouched. Jay pours into his cup full to the brim. His senses are already tingling with the thoughts of drinking more.
When the alcohol buzzes through his system, Jay lets out a satisfied sigh. God, he's so carefree tonight. But whatever, he's pretty sure Sunoo can drive them home safely. Right now, Jay's focus is only on making himself feel better and forget whatever ruckus that has unfolded the past few weeks.
He pours more when his cup empties. From where he's standing, the bass doesn't really reach him, a bit distant from the speaker now blasting Miley Cyrus' Party In The U.S.A.. It makes the conversation around him sounds clearer in his ears. Including the ones coming from upstairs.
Jay pays them no mind. He's not here for gossips or shits and giggles—he's here to cool off. But when something sweet, something that reminds him of his mom's berry strudels and morning coffee drifts into his nose, Jay's senses sharpen.
Is someone baking? He wonders alone. The last time he left the kitchen, there were only Sunoo and Jungwon. As far as he remembers, neither could touch the oven without risking an explosion.
So where does this sweet scent come from?
It gets sweeter the more he spends his focus on it. Jay looks around, mind still buzzing, unable to find the source of the scent that has piqued his interest through the haziness. His nose twitches. Even in his drunken state, Jay can't help but notice how constrasting the scent is to his sharp citrus.
And for some reason, his wolf likes it.
"Is it from the stairs?" he mumbles, stumbling to the foot of the stairs, drink sloshing in his cup.
But just as he's about to look up, he's already colliding into a soft body coming down from upstairs.
"Ah!"
Oh no.
Jay watches in horror as the drink in his hand spills all over the person's shirt, staining the white fabric with yellowish mark that almost looks like someone's piss. He freezes, mouth gaping in surprise, but the only thing his hazy mind picks up is 'Yes, he's finally found where the scent comes from.'
It's from the victim of his booze.
Or rather, the furious omega who's looking down at him with a sneer on her face right now.
"Hey!" You yell, face burning red. "Look at what you did!"
Oh, Jay is definitely looking. For some reason, his eyes are glued to your face, taking in every feature decorating your sweet face. The perfectly sculpted brows that are now frowning deep, the round eyes that are narrowing down at him, the full lips that are pulled into a tight, dissatisfied line.
Such an angry omega. But also the most beautiful he's ever laid his eyes on.
"Hey, stupid alpha. I'm talking to you!"
Jay has never seen you before. Who are you? Why are you making his heart beat so fast? Why is his wolf wiggling his tail at the sight of you?
"Oh my fucking God. So fucking annoying."
Even when you're glaring at him, under the dim light of Jake's frat house, you look very, very pretty. Are you even real, or just a drunken manifestation of his desperation for a mate?
Jay's too starstruck and drunk to notice how dumb he must look right now, but you've had enough of the alpha gaping at you like a dying fish. You shake his shoulders, manicured nails digging into his shirt.
"Earth to dumbass alpha! Hello??? You just spilled your drink all over my Limited Edition Cherry Chanel Baby Tee!"
Oh, right. Jay snaps out of his reverie, and drops his eyes on your chest to see the damage he's done.
But instead of realising his mistake, he's realising something else instead.
The wet patch darkens your shirt from its usual shade, sticking to your chest like second skin. From where he's standing so close, just a step below you on the stairs, his eyes level with your chest, Jay has a belated realisation that you have such perfect…boobs.
They're slightly bigger than average, perfectly-shaped and round, and they sit so nicely that Jay feels like they'd beat his expensive pillows in softness. A thought, a small thought that sober-Jay would never have, crosses his mind.
Jay wants to bury his face in your chest to test it.
Oh my God. This is bad. Drunk-Jay is so, so bad. He's really malfunctioning tonight.
You, on the other hand, are already at your wits' ends. It doesn't help that the shirt feels so sticky, so uncomfortable and it irritates you to the core. Also, why the fuck is this stupid alpha staring at your chest like—like he wants to touch it?
"Hey!" you push his shoulder again, but the alpha doesn't budge. You grit your teeth. "My eyes are up here, dumbass!"
Jay breathes out. "Che…rry."
Your brows furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Cherry." Jay repeats, eyes never leaving your chest. His mind is dissolving into mixed up conversations—he can hear Jake's voice, your voice, and the bass mixing together.
"I prefer…cherry."
There is a heavy silence that follows, loaded with bubbling anger, drunk confusion, and a very, very horrific realisation that he's talking about your chest. Your mouth falls open.
With a handsome face and neat shirt like that, you can't believe that this alpha is such a fucking pervert!
"Yah! Are you crazy?! What cherry?!" You scream, attracting more attention on the two of you. Jay barely blinks. "Are you talking about—about my boobs?!"
Jay blinks blearily, then nods.
"Your…cherry."
You let out a scandalised gasp. Humiliation starts creeping up your face, painting your skin even redder than before.
This is ridiculous. This is diabolical! The audacity of this alpha—!
Before you know it, your hand already swipes across his cheek in a surprised, harsh slap. Jay's head jerks to the side, his own eyes growing wide at the impact. A ringing silence echoes between the two of you, followed by a chorus of gasps from the onlookers.
After literally getting slapped into his senses, Jay sobers up in that one single moment and realises with a dread, What the fuck did he just do?
He slowly looks back at you, touching his stinging cheek like you had personally offended his whole bloodline. You're glaring at him, chest heaving rapidly like you can't contain your anger any longer.
"You fucking pervert!"
Jay's breath hitches. He's a pervert?
"Get away from me!"
The alpha lets his body get shoved to the side like a door blocking the way. He stands there, motionless, as he watches you leave, angry steps making your hair bounce. Shame and guilt start crawling up his chest when his mind decides to replay the scene, realising in horror how out of character he had been and how rude he was to you.
Oh God. Oh my God.
Seriously, Park Jongseong? Cherry? That's the first thing you say to the literal love of your life?
"Isn't that Park Jongseong?"
"Oh my God, I thought he was a green flag?"
"I guess even a green flag still has a knot to satisfy."
"Park Jongseong is a pervert?"
Jay squeezes his eyes shut and runs a hand down his face. He doesn't really care about his reputation, so the whispers barely bother him.
What he cares more is the lingering scent of acidic espresso and rotting cherries in the air, trailing after you even when you're long gone. His cheek still burns, but he couldn't care less because—you know…he kind of deserved it.
Fuck.
And Jay doesn't even know your name.
"All alphas are nothing but a knothead!"
You spit, seething in anger as you glare at anyone in your way. Not even the loud music can muffle your voice, sending death threats and insults to a certain alpha (and literally all other alphas.)
Maybe it's just your bad day, because just as you finally see your exit, an alpha—stupidly broad-shouldered alpha, fuck alphas and their ridiculous proportions—bumps into you. You click your tongue and look up at him.
"Why do you guys stupid alphas only think with your dick, your cock, and only your small fucking knot?!"
The alpha stares at you in horror. It seems like today is more of his unlucky day than yours.
"I-I don't—"
"What? You don't have a dick?" You cut him off, irritation pulling at your nerves. Tonight is such a shitty night. "Isn't that the only thing you alphas are proud of? Thinking with your knot and tricking omegas with your cock?!"
The poor alpha stands there cowering, hanging his head low as if he's already accepted his fate of being the receiving end of your hatred towards alphas and…dicks.
You push a trembling finger on his chest, eyes prickling with tears. Fuck these hormones and emotions, fuck this soft scent that makes people think you're nothing more than a weak, defenceless omega—you've had enough of everything.
"Am I wrong? Isn't that why Riki cheated on me?!" You yell, not caring if people catch your words. "Because his dick can't get enough with only one pussy?!"
A ripple of murmurs and whispers start spreading around you. Even the DJ has turned the volume down slightly, taken aback by the sudden drop of the bomb of truth.
A cheating scandal? That's the juiciest gossip college students could have ever had.
The nameless alpha looks at you, eyes wide in surprise mixed with disappointment when he hears your words.
"Oh my God—there's no way—Riki cheated?" He stammers. "Nishimura Riki cheated?"
"Who the fuck is Nishimura Riki?" Your brows furrow, first time hearing that family name. "It's Hirota Riki! My stupid, cheating ex who's immature and younger than me and just plain dumb like a textbook alpha!"
The relief physically vanishes from his face. Then, as if realising what you have said, his face mirrors your confusion. "Wait—you mean Maki? That German-Japanese guy?"
You squeeze your eyes shut. Of course people know him. You almost forgot that your ex, other than being a piece of garbage and a pain in your ass, is also a famous model for the college magazines. His face is everywhere, in every campaign and poster and advertisements, wearing clothes that always gains attention.
Clothes that you designed and sewn by hand.
The back of your eyes burn with tears, but you blink them back, not wanting people to see your sadness. You'd rather they have your anger and rage, because lashing out and being called crazy for screaming seem less vulnerable than the little drops of tears down your cheeks.
You push at the alpha weakly, every fibre of your being just begging to go home and forget everything about tonight.
"Are you okay, angry omega?"
"Shut up," you hiss, voice shaky. "I'm leaving this place."
The crowd parts for you as you make your way to the exit. You sway slightly, too drained from spending your energy screaming at everyone and no one at the same time.
You hate the prying eyes. You hate the pitying words. You hate the whispers. But there's nothing you can do when it's you who accidentally aired out your ex boyfriend's scandal in your fit of anger.
It's been two months since the breakup—a breakup that you thought was healthy and reasonable. Maki told you that he was going to get busy with growing his career, balancing his job as a freelance model with being an engineering student was starting to take up most of his time. Somewhere in between schedules, he no longer could find the time to love you, to fit you in his world of fame and glory.
You didn't want to hold him back. Even when you had liked him more than you ever did anyone, you still let him go. The relationship lasted only for nine months, and you never really expected anything serious or long lasting from dating someone in college.
But tonight, a friend let the truth slip.
Maki didn't break up with you because he wanted time for his career growth—or whatever bullshit he spouted at you. No.
He has been seeing another omega behind your back. Someone from the same major as you.
It's no surprise that you didn't find out any sooner. Being a fashion major warrants competitiveness and rivals—and you're not exactly well-loved by your fellow designers. You're the notorious omega known for your ridiculous standards, your pride and stubbornness, and your sharp tongue. It's your brilliant designs that get people to at least pretend to be your friends, hoping to steal a bit of your creative talent—but you always smell bullshit from miles away.
So, really, it upsets you that you failed to detect Maki's bullshit first. And people have been keeping it from you because they like to see your downfall.
And what better downfall is there than seeing your ex cheating on you with your fashion rival?
It's not like you liked him to the point of love—no. It's the betrayal that makes your mouth feel dry, heart heavy in ways it never had been before, like an anchor pulling down ships to sink.
Before you know it, you're already outside. The air is too chilly for your skin, amplified by the wet stain on your chest. You bite your lips, on the verge of tears when you're reminded of that perverted alpha.
Another alpha that only caused you humiliation. Really?
How can someone look at you like you're the most divine being one minute, then blatantly stare at your chest the next?
It's beyond you, really. Alphas are just evolutionary failures.
You fish out your phone from your wallet and look for an Uber. You're not too drunk to drive. If anything, you've never felt more sober in your life. It's just skills issue—you just cannot drive. Even when you have a whole damn Porsche in the garage of your family's mansion; a gift from your overly-doting parents who got too excited when you managed to get into fashion school—it still terrifies you to hold the steering wheel.
All of these privileges and wealth, yet no success in the dating department (and driving classes). Your whole life, you have dated a cheater, a closeted alpha who was too scared to tell you that he liked knots better than your pussy, and just a total manchild who sulked back whenever you pouted.
"Seriously," you mutter, confirming your location on the screen. "When will it be my turn to date an actual manly alpha?"
You pause. Now that you think of it, even so-called green-flag alphas give you the ick.
They're just a bunch of performative males. Just look at the college's beloved cheater. Maki was acting like a green forest itself when he was courting you!
None of these alphas can be trusted!
"I will just die single," you decide, closing the app once your driver is confirmed. Your parents have more than enough money to support you anyway.
You stand at the porch in silence, the sound of the bass can be heard faintly through the walls. The stickiness of your shirt is now long forgotten; you've given up thinking about it when the memory of your ex comes back. There are more pressing matters at hand that need your attention.
Like the upcoming fashion week, no doubt will get you into another spiral of self-doubt and stress. Like your parents who keep insisting you meet this one young, handsome bachelor that apparently would be just your type—but you're still hurt by Maki's action that you haven't found the right timing to say yes. Like your favourite cherry Chanel baby tee, now ruined and stained, and you wonder if you should send it for dry cleaning or pay a fortune to scalpers—
"Miss?"
A deep timbre greets your hearing. It's soft and a tad bit familiar, like you've heard it somewhere before.
You turn around and immediately frown when you see him.
It's that perverted alpha.
"What?" You reply, already annoyed. The alpha blinks at you, looking more sober than before. His collar is folded neatly now, and the red tips of his ears are hinting more on shyness than alcohol influence.
He gives you a nervous smile. "I came to apologise."
Tch. Another performative alpha. But this one likes to stare at your chest too much.
You roll your eyes and turn back to the front, wishing for your driver to arrive fast.
"Just save your breath and go. You don't even know what you're apologising for."
One thing you hate about men, especially alphas, is that they never mean their sorry's. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything'. Everything is too generic. They don't have any idea what they apologise for. The phrase has lost its value from how often it flows out of their mouths without meaning.
But this alpha is a bit more stubborn than you think. He shuffles closer, still keeping a safe distance, and stands next to you. Now closer, you can smell the citrusy scent wafting from him—sharp and refreshing, something that reminds you of summer. It has to be his pheromones.
Well, okay. He has sexy pheromones. You'll admit that. Too bad that the owner is already on your blacklist.
"I apologise for spilling my drinks on you and ruining your baby tee," he begins, turning his body facing you. But you refuse to look.
"It's the Limited Edition Cherry Chanel baby tee," you correct him. From your peripheral vision, you can faintly see him grin.
"Yes, I'm sorry for ruining your Limited Edition Cherry Chanel baby tee."
Okay. He's obedient. But it could be performative. Maybe he's just trying to get into your pants. You're not oblivious to how beautiful you look. You know that your family has good genes.
"And I apologise for staring at your chest inappropriately. I came off as a pervert even when I didn't mean to," he breathes out, voice lowering down in shame. "I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable."
Something tugs at your heart unexpectedly. It surprises you that this alpha actually knows what he's apologising for, unlike your previous exes who only said sorry to get your nagging self off their backs. You shift slightly, unwilling to let this new change get to your head.
"Well, apology heard," you retort, still strong on not letting the alpha get too close—or accepting his apology. "But I'm not sorry for slapping you. So don't expect an apology from me."
An amused chuckle slips past his lips. His lemon scent bursts in the air, sounding too elated for your liking.
What's so funny?
"I guess I deserved it," the alpha, whose name you just realise you never know, replies as he touches his cheek with a brush of his fingers. You take a glance, satisfaction blooming in your chest when you notice the red mark on the tender skin.
That's what alphas like him deserve. Omegas run the world anyway.
You don't bother to say anything, just letting the cold breeze of night wind engulf you. It seeps into your bones, making you shiver almost too aggressively. The driver is still five minutes away, taking suspiciously long time at the red light just in front of a Burger King drive-thru.
You feel eyes on you before you feel his movements. The alpha sheds his trench coat, brushing wrinkles off the fabric before he hands it to you. You almost sigh, both out of relief and annoyance because really, you could use some extra layers right now but seriously, does it have to be in the most cliche, K-drama-worthy situation ever?
"What is this," you flatly ask, unimpressed.
"You're cold."
"How did you know that I'm cold?"
You watch the tip of his ears blush, and then his eyes traitorously drop to your chest before quickly lift up to face you again.
"I just…noticed."
You roll your eyes before looking down. "I know it's soaked, and it's—"
The words die on your tongue.
Your nipples. They're erect from the cold, mounting the thin, drenched fabric of your shirt in deadly-obvious pebbles. You brain dissolves into incoherent blabbering as a heat of embarrassment creeps up your neck. It's seriously the worst day ever to choose not wearing a bra.
You don't know if it's shame, or anger, or both, but when you look up to the now-blushing alpha, there's rage boiling over like a kettle about to whistle.
"I fucking knew it!" You couldn't hold yourself back this time, snatching the coat and smacking the alpha with the fabric. The alpha's eyes widen as he cowers to dodge your attack.
"You're just a pervert!"
"I-I'm not! I'm sorry—ow! Ow!"
You don't relent and keep hitting him with his coat, tears of shame threatening to spill over.
"What are you sorry for, you performative wolf?!" Smack! Smack! "You just ogled at my chest again!"
"I didn't mean to—ow! I'm sorry!"
With one final hit, you throw the coat at his face with all your might. He clumsily catches it, eyes wide with shock. The anger is hot, too hot that the cold doesn't bother you anymore, in fact you think steam might rise from your head in any second. With a huff, you stomp down the porch, ignoring his cries of sorry's from behind.
"I-I'm sorry! It's a misunderstanding! I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable again!"
"Shut the fuck up! You better not show your face anymore!" You flip him off without looking back.
However, upon seeing the Uber driver, you take a U-turn and stomp back to the alpha. His eyes immediately light up, there's a thin layer of moisture in his eyes. Maybe the coat hit his eyes or he's just so performative he'd cry if he could, you don't really care.
"You came back," he breathes out. "I'm sorry—"
"I said shut up!" You yell, already too irritated and overstimulated. While you're at it—embarrassing yourself to the point of no return—you snatch his trench coat and sling it over your chest shamelessly.
The driver is also an alpha, and you're not risking flashing your tits to another pervert.
"I'm taking this. Bye!"
"Wait!"
"And I am NOT returning it!"
With a harsh slam of the door, the car finally drives into the horizon, leaving behind a confused and guilty and perverted alpha as he chases after your Uber. Your chest heaves deeply, adrenaline running hot as your face flushes. You pretend not to notice the bag of chips and burger in the driver's lap, or the way the perverted alpha stands smaller in the side mirror as he watches you leave.
You just hope you never see that alpha again.
You never see that alpha again. However, as if you had personally offended the Earth and the entire Solar system, the Goddess doubles it down and sends your cheating ex to your studio instead.
His presence is too invasive that you feel him before you see him. His pheromones, now making your hair stand instead of providing the comfort that it used to do, breaches your senses when you round the corner. You had just stepped out to get some lunch, already grumpy from resisting your persistent mom and her chosen alpha for you to mate, when you see Maki walk down the hallway like it was his runway.
Your stomach drops. Like it's survival instinct, you turn back around and speed-walk to your studio. It's like a drum war being hit inside your chest, and you hope you're fast enough because you really, really don't want to deal with him right now.
Just as you're about to close the door, a force of Maki's hands pushes it back open. You stumble backwards, eyes wide in surprise as Maki effortlessly slips inside. His body, tall and wrong and crowding, swallows the room like a black hole sucking in the light and leaving you empty and alone in the darkness.
There's a lazy smirk playing at his lips.
"If it's not my favourite ex."
His voice is dripping with honey, a sweet poison that always gets to you no matter how hard you pretend it doesn't. It's sticky and uncomfortable, it makes you squirm and feel like there's something you should be scrambling for. It gets under your skin and Maki always gets the reaction that he wants.
You snap, face pulling into a scowl.
"What do you want, Maki?"
Maki lets your voice fade, acting like he didn't hear you. With his hands in the pockets of his jeans, the young alpha straightens, easy eyes meeting your sharp ones. And when he speaks, the words roll off his tongue so smoothly, like seeing the person he used to love didn't affect him the slightest. Like you didn't have such an impact on him the way he does you.
"Did I cheat, Y/N?"
The question strikes you dumb for a moment, but you recover quickly. Of course. Words spread fast on campus, especially if the source is the frat house. You knew it'd reach Maki eventually, but you didn't expect it to be this fast. It's like every person inside that house was an extension of Maki; the golden boy, the people's favourite, the face painting every cover of magazine.
You try to hide the tremble in your fists.
"You did."
Maki hums noncommittally.
"Do you have proof?"
"Liz told me," your voice grits out, "You'd been fucking around with your new girlfriend since you were with me."
The alpha tilts his head, still wearing that laid-back expression that you wish you could slap off his face. "Did she?"
"Yes. Now get out of here, you fucking stink—"
"Why would she help you, Y/N?" Maki calmly cuts you off, a bored tone in his voice. Like he'd rather be anywhere else but here, like he'd rather deal with a child than you. His smug face makes your skin prickle. You hate how easily he can hit your nerves.
Maki takes a step closer, taunting as ever.
"Had you started thinking that you have friends now?"
It's a soft blow that lands hard in your chest. Maki used to know you, therefore he knows all the ugly parts of you. And seeing him turning every knowledge he has of you into a weapon against you feels like being forced looking into a mirror that you've spent your whole life avoiding.
Your fists shake, nails digging into soft skin, almost drawing blood.
"Even if she lied to me, you got together with your new girlfriend so quick after the breakup," you spit between gritted teeth, holding back more than words. "That told me enough."
Maki is silent for a few heartbeats, his face unreadable.
"So what?"
There's a drop in your heart. Confused, disbelieving. "What?"
"What's wrong with moving on from you so fast? You didn't think you were so special for me to weep around, did you?"
There's a vaccuumed silence that swallows you whole. His words, casually laid out like he was discussing the weather, like the matters of your heart was something he wasn't concerned about, seep into your skin and every fibre of your being. The thoughts turn and curl, igniting a numbing buzz that replays his voice like a broken record.
Special. What's so special about you?
And when even you cannot find an answer, you feel the first crack in your chest.
Maki revels in your silence; in the first sign of submission. His smugness is loud in the studio, his pheromones flaring with dominance. He advances, taking deliberate steps, circling you like a predator assessing its prey.
"You've always been like this. So fiery, so passionate. All this energy yet no particular direction to go to," he drawls out, the words tumbling out lazily. He stops right in front of you, only a few centimeters away, and makes a show of looking around your studio.
He takes in the rumpled fabric, the crumpled sketchbooks, the spilled coffee. It appears as what he just observed: too much energy with no proper control. Loud. Messy. Reckless.
You.
"You can't even keep your studio tidy, Y/N," he breathes out a sigh.
"What's so unforgettable about you?"
When you had first started fashion school, you'd been told by every living person that money couldn't buy talent. No matter how big your mother's name is in the beauty and healthcare industry, no matter how prominent your father is in the automobile sector—you're nothing more than a mundane, passing student if you don't possess talent. And here, people always feel the need to remind you of that fact, especially after learning about the affluent background you come from.
So you learned. It's not like you got here through nepotism, anyway—you got in through your own grit. Your parents had always wanted you to get into med school, and the only thing you're good with when it comes to medicines is drawing the anatomy by hand. That sketch turned into figures and furls and soon, your dream to study fashion finally bloomed.
You have the talent and you have the grit. People always pass you nice compliments and constructive feedbacks you often dwell on—but the sleepless nights didn't really matter when you could finally see your collection walking down the runway front-row. You wear your confidence loudly that sometimes it's easy to forget that some people hate shiny things.
Your designs are so forgettable.
Said the new lecturer one day, tearing your sketchbook apart in front of the whole class came the third semester.
It was humiliating; the kind that burned your skin and the back of your eyes. Your nails cracked under pressure, trying so hard not to shed tears in front of so many pairs of eyes. But no matter how hard you try to reassure yourself, the comment lingers. It becomes an invisible knife that twists each time someone so much as look at your designs the wrong way.
And the first mistake you did was open up about it to someone.
The second mistake was that someone was Maki, of all people.
Because now, that alpha—all pride and arrogance—is throwing back the exact same insult at you right in your reddening face.
What's so unforgettable about you?
What's so unforgettable about you?
What's so unforgettable about you?
"Nothing," Maki finishes, eyes never leaving your face, as if savouring every twitch of hurt in your features.
There's nothing unforgettable about you. Not your designs; someone else probably invented something far more interesting than you. Not your face; you're just another pretty omega in a sea of more pretty omegas. Not your scent; you smell like pastries that people can easily get from any bakery. And certainly not you as a whole.
That's what he meant by it, right?
You're just a plus-one. An afterthought. The reason why skip buttons exist.
A heavy lump forms in your throat.
Maki takes your silence as a win and steps back.
"Now be a good girl and retract your statement. I never cheated on you," he says with conviction that you start questioning your own truth. "It's just your omega hormones messing around with you."
The door closes with a thud, leaving behind a ringing silence, the echo of his insults bouncing off the walls. There's a thin veil of moisture in your eyes, but you refuse to cry.
You refuse to cry for the rest of your time in your studio, trying to fix some of the mess, hating yourself even more when you realise that you care about his comments more than you should.
You refuse to cry on your way home, sitting in silence at the backseat of your Uber, replaying Maki's words in an endless loop that you wish could stop.
You refuse to cry when you have nothing to eat for dinner, stomach growling in hunger for some warm, homecooked meals, yet you have to settle for takeout again.
You refuse to cry when you sit in the middle of your living room, a luxury apartment far too big for one person to live in, trying to eat the soggy noodles and too-drenched fried chicken.
But like any normal human being, you have a heart too—a soft one at that. You can only hold on for so long.
It's hard to ignore the vast, empty space of your apartment; of the two vacant rooms down the hallways; of the single mug, single cutlery set, single-everything because for some reason you half-know and half-not, you just don't have…friends. At least not those who can reach the depths of your being—just fleeting, surface-level friends. Or companion.
Or whatever it was that Maki said that finally got to your head.
The dam finally breaks when you enter your room.
For the first time in your life, your nest that you always keep tidy on the love couch you have by the window, your safe haven where you lie in to find comfort, becomes the spot that you want to avoid the most.
There, arranged into a circle, are all the things that smell like solace and consolation after a rough day—or at least used to. Maki used to be like that—used to be your person, used to be your comfort place. So it's almost pathetic that you are still clinging onto his hoodie, his sweatshirt, the mittens he gave you last winter, the plush bunny that he won at an arcade, for comfort long after the breakup happened.
God, you didn't even want that bunny. You wanted the black cat.
You pick up his hoodie. It's the one he asked you to wear during a movie night, the one he received as a gift from GAP after a modelling gig with them. With shaky hands, you press your nose into the fabric, trying to catch the person who used to care for you—the person he was before he is now.
His scent lingers, faint and fading, but it's still there. Pine and frost, cold and sharp as his features. But instead of the warm feeling that you used to get, his scent makes your stomach twist and churn, a bile rising behind your throat.
The first drop of tears slides down your cheek.
He's no longer your safe space. Hadn't been since that breakup. Hadn't been since the night he kissed another woman behind your back.
Without thinking, you throw the hoodie on the floor. The fabric lands with a soundless thud, but the indication is loud regardless. When you look back at the love couch, the sight almost breaks you into pieces.
Your nest is all destroyed.
With a cry of fury, you lunge, hands tearing his sweatshirt apart next. At your force, the plush bunny tilts sideway, further breaking the perfect circle that used to be your nest.
"It's just a nest," your voice trembles, but the words ring hollow. Inside, your wolf twists and turns, aggressively shaking her head.
A nest is never just a nest.
"I don't care!" you shout, stomping on the plush bunny. "It's not like—it's not like anything would ever comfort me anymore."
Your knees buckle, too worn after carrying the weight of your inner battles for so long. You slump on the floor, sobs wrecking your chest, the sound raw and scratched. As if on instinct, you bring your knees close to your chest, staring at the mess with a solemn, teary gaze.
You don't even know what you're crying for. It's not like you still have feelings for Maki; or at least, there's no positive feelings for him except for lingering resentment and a strong sense of betrayal.
Is it because what the destroyed nest symbolises?
That you're nothing but a lonely, easily-discarded omega?
That nothing will ever be safe enough for you to rely on anymore?
You might act strong on the outside and bite every bullet with squared shoulders, but if only they knew what you truly feel inside.
If only they knew.
A loud, shrill ringing from your phone cuts you off your silent misery. You drag your body to where your mattress is located at the center of your bedroom, your mom's contact name blinking to be picked up.
With a wipe on your cheeks and a sniffle, you answer the phone.
"My lovely daughter! How are you? Are you eating well, sweetheart?"
I just destroyed my nest. "I'm good, Mom. Just had dinner."
"Come visit this weekend! I'll send our chauffeur to you. I'm planning to—"
"Mom."
You look around your room. At the space that feels too big to fill in, the discarded fabric on the floor. Then, at your disheveled reflection in the mirror.
"Yes, daughter?"
You bite your lower lip, trembling. You look like a mess. Just like what Maki had said.
"I wanna go home."
There's a split second of silence before your mom's voice echoes again.
"You mean you wanna move back here, sweetheart?"
"Mhm," you almost sniffle but you catch yourself, not wanting to give yourself away. "I wanna live with you again."
"Oh, my! That means you agree that alpha, don't you?"
Sigh. You almost forgot about that. The silly condition your pouty mom makes if you ever want to live with them again. One that you've been trying to avoid, too busy with the fashion week preparation and planning revenge on your heartbreak.
But is there really anything to lose?
If you agree, you'll be in close proximity with what you'd say your comfort: your family, and the mansion you used to grow up in. A blind date is just free dinner and having an alpha shower your with praises and compliments. You might have to put up with a little bit of boasting here and there, but it's nothing you can't handle.
So long as you can escape this loneliness, even if only for temporary…
"Yeah," you breathe out. "I'll meet him."
Just let me go home to you, Mom.
Park Jongseong's cheek is still stinging.
But instead of acting like any other man who just got slapped would, he's wearing a giddy smile on his face. He's lying down on the couch, his apartment being the hangout spot of the day for the weekend, but thoughts about his friends are scattered away. Jay is absolutely gone and lost in cloud nine, a cherry-shaped cloud wearing the face of a certain beautiful omega that has been running on his mind as of late.
"Geez, this guy has turned crazy," Sunoo shakes his head before he nudges the older alpha. "Jay-hyung, I brought some ice packs for your cheek."
Jay absentmindedly reaches out his hand, barely registering his friend's words. "Sunoo-ya, Britney Spears was right."
Sunoo gives him a deadpanned look and then shoves the ice pack in his face. Jay yelps from the sudden cold contact.
"Ow!"
"Well, if you can't find her, I'm more than willing and capable to hit you one more time in her stead."
The older alpha huffs, pressing the cold compress into his swollen cheek. "You don't understand, Sunoo," he defends, "Her hands were so soft and she's so….beautiful."
"She slapped you."
"I deserved it."
"Yeah, cause you were ogling at her chest."
"I—" Jay gulps. Well, now it doesn't sound so good. "I mean…yeah, I did. I stared too long, in fact. That's why I said I deserved it."
Even while saying so, there's still this stupid smile decorating his handsome face. Sunoo can only shake his head, hands on his hips like a tired mom handling her teenage son's first underage drinking. It sounds that bad because it was that bad.
"I can't believe this is the end of Jay-hyung's gentleman era," Riki snorts from the floor. He's been hogging Jay's latest edition of PlayStation all to himself, secretly eavesdropping the two alpha's conversation.
Jay doesn't take it nicely. "What do you mean? I am still me."
"Mhm. Gentleman by day, boob enthusiast by night. Totally not a pervert."
Jay is open to criticism, especially anything to improve himself. But there's nothing to improve here. Jay is just…in love. Okay, that's a bit too soon. Jay is infatuated would be the best way to describe his situation right now because there's no doubt that he, as in human-Jay, and his wolf, like you.
Yes, in a romantic way. Yes, in a 'he wants to court you' way. Yes, in a 'I need her name and a priest now because he does hope he can marry you' way.
He's everything but he's not a pervert. No. And Jay has a hard time receiving criticism about his personality if it comes from a certain alpha named Nishimura Riki, and another alpha named Lee Heeseung. Call it pettiness or a vendetta, but those two have no right to say shit about him. Right now or ever.
Beside him, Sunoo starts to sigh. "Riki."
"What? At least we know why omegas like you now."
Jay's expression hardens. There's a twitch in his jaw that doesn't go unnoticed by Sunoo.
"What do you mean by that?"
Riki, still not sensing the sudden drop of temperature in the room, casually shrugs. "I'm saying maybe you've always been looking. Heeseung-hyung and I knew better."
A heavy silence blankets the room, suffocating each corner with unspoken rage. Sunoo almost recoils from the sudden bitterness that comes from Jay's pheromones. He casts a worried glance at the wounded alpha.
"Yeah." Jay lets out a quiet laugh. "Because both of you thought I'd steal your omegas."
Riki goes rigid. He puts down the console, finally registering the damage that came out of his mouth. He whips his head around, only to be met with a sharp glare from Jay.
"Jay-hyung…"
"No, let's talk about it." Jay gently pushes away Sunoo's hands that come up to comfort him, putting down the ice pack with calm fury that radiates more heat than if he had shouted. He fixes Riki with a burning glare that could've melted the ice pack.
"Let's talk about how I am always the collateral damage of your love story."
Riki gulps. Truthfully, he has never seen Jay angry. And even when he did, that anger was never directed to him. But this time, being the receiving end of such disappointed eyes, Riki wishes the ground would swallow him whole.
"Jay-hyung, you know I don't mean it like that."
"Which part? The pervert part? Because you and Heeseung surely treat me like one whenever your omegas are around," Jay says, still soft, but the venom is there. "As if I was some horny wolf waiting for the time to pounce on them. Let me ask you, Riki. What was so wrong with wanting to help you when you literally asked me for help?"
"I—I know. You're never wrong—" Riki swallows, too paralysed from how fast the situation took its bad turn. "I just…shit. I'm sorry, hyung. You're such a good alpha—"
"Am I, really? Because with you two, I never feel like one."
Riki tries to say something back, mouth gaping like fish out of water. Jay heaves out a long sigh, ruffling his already-messy hair. As if on cue, the door to his apartment opens and comes in Heeseung, whose eyes immediately widen in alarm upon sensing the tension in the living room.
"What are we fighting about?"
"About your terrible jealousy issues," Jay grits through his teeth, looking up to meet eyes with Heeseung. The latter almost flinches from how sharp his gaze is. Jay takes another deep breath.
"God, you know what? I understand jealousy. I truly do. I wouldn't want any alpha near my omega too. But that would be any alpha but you two. Because I trust you. I trust you so much and it actually," Jay halts for a moment, realising how intense his emotions have been running. But the reassuring pat from Sunoo serves as his motivation.
He needs to say this. He needs to. Otherwise he'd drown in undeserving guilt and shrink himself again.
"It actually hurts when you guys don't feel the same about me."
The tension thickens it could be cut with a knife. Riki's expression crumples, the alpha who's usually prideful and cocky is now in shambles upon seeing his older alpha breaking down like this. Heeseung fails to find any words, the guilt is lodged in his throat that barely any voice would come out, blocking any syllables from being spoken.
"I just wanted to help. My kindness has no underlying meanings. I didn't offer to help because I wanted to have your omega in bed, Riki. I was thinking about you. I was thinking how I could stop you from crying because you were my friend first and it—it hurt to see you cry so much like that."
Jay is still soft. His voice is still gentle, and that's what makes this whole situation uglier. That's what makes the guilt press harder. Both alphas in question could only stare at their feet, reflecting on their actions towards Jay.
"And you, Heeseung. Would you rather have your mate get soaked that night?" Jay doesn't let him answer. "I don't think you would. I couldn't just leave knowing she'd get drenched in the rain, knowing how much my friend cherishes her and would freak out if she got sick."
Heeseung purses his lips. He was so busy mending what was broken with his omega that he didn't realise how much he's been hurting his friend.
The apartment is silent, save for the PlayStation menu playing its music on loop. Riki can't bring himself to look at Jay, perfectly fine with tucking his chin low and hiidng his shame. Heeseung still has a hand on the doorknob, the metal feels cold on his slippery palm.
"Jay-ah…"
"I'll be in my room. I want to be alone for a moment."
The anger has long left his body. All he feels now is exhaustion and relief, like finally putting back a heavy backpack he's been carrying for months.
The three watch as Jay disappears behind the door of his master bedroom. It closes with a gentle click, as if even in anger and disappointment, Jay wouldn't ever be harsh to his friends. Heeseung and Riki immediately let out a breath they didn't know they were holding while Sunoo watches them with amusement.
"It took him a lot of courage to say that, you know." Sunoo takes a seat on the couch, grabbing the console that was left untouched by Riki. "You guys better apologise and make up to him properly."
"I am such an asshole," Riki whines and drapes his body across the couch, letting his head fall into Sunoo's lap despite his protest. "Hyung was right. It's all about trust. And I was acting like an insecure dog."
Sunoo snorts. "You're a big puppy, Riki."
Heeseung is still quiet. The memory of the punch that almost landed on Jay's face still haunts him, even before the confrontation. He knew it needed to be talked about eventually, he just didn't expect it to be in a situation like this. But alas, Jay has been a sponge that absorbs everybody's emotions, the reliable one—it's about time that the patient alpha loses it.
Just as he's about to enter the apartment fully, the door is suddenly pushed open from behind and Heeseung gets shoved inside instead. Immediately, the smell of burnt chocolate fills the air and the insults he prepares for the intruder die on his tongue.
"Sunoo-hyung!" Jungwon barges in, a pout protruding on his lips. "Noona called me his little brother again!"
Oh, Goddess of the Moon. Please protect this friendship.
Heeseung walks silently to his room, ignoring the trio alpha now fighting for Sunoo's attention. Jungwon, however, upon seeing Riki, immediately scowls at the younger. His pout disappears and his complaints die in his throat.
"YOU! Nishimura Riki. You're not cheating, aren't you?"
Riki blinks confusedly.
"Cheating? In FIFA or PUBG?"
"On your girlfriend!"
"Fuck, no!" The blond-haired alpha sits up, taking full offence from the sudden accusation. "I would jump off the cliff first before I'd ever dare cheat on my lovely mate. What the fuck are you on? You know I'm loyal as fuck."
Sunoo pinches his arm. "That's too many curse words, Riki."
Jungwon shakes his head. He pushes the younger off the couch and claims his previous spot, laying his head comfortably on Sunoo's lap. The scandalised look on Riki's face hasn't faded, the alpha is still glaring at Jungwon like he has offended Riki's ancestors.
"Nothing. There was just this omega yelling about getting cheated on during last Friday's party."
"And? What does that have to do with me?"
"The cheater's name is also Riki! You don't know how disappointed and heartbroken I was for those three seconds when I thought it was Nishimura Riki. It turned out to be Hirota Riki," Jungwon nudges Sunoo's hand, urging the older to pat his head. He's still heartbroken, please comfort him, thank you. "I was so close to committing a murder on you that night."
With that explanation, a look of understanding passes Riki's face. He slumps and sprawls on the floor, relief bleeding out of his muscle.
"Oh. That's Maki. Riki C. He's the disgraceful Riki. I don't fuck with him. Not anymore."
"You better not!" Jungwon hisses at him like an angry kitten.
"Wait, so you're Riki B?" Sunoo tilts his head. One of his hands is playing with Jungwon's hair. "Then who is Riki A?"
"The other Riki is Taki, and no, I am Riki D, because this dick—"
"Nishimura Riki!" Sunoo and Jungwon simultaneously yell, drawing out a cheeky laugh from the youngest.
From inside his room, Heeseung could hear the commotion. He shakes his head. Oh, Goddess of the Moon. Please save Nishimura Riki.
Living with your parents has been as peaceful as it can get. Nothing much can be said, considering that it has only been a week.
For the time being, you manage to get your mom off your back about meeting this handsome alpha that she'd like to have as a son-in-law. You hide behind the excuse of being busy with the fashion week, which is not totally a lie.
Fashion week is one of the biggest assessments there is. It means two months of outsourcing high-quality fabrics, sketching and crumpling papers and sketching, hours spent in the studio, finding suitable models for your runway and, the most important part: piecing your imagination and hardwork into a clothing worth wearing and parading.
Which is why you're spending your time in the studio on a Saturday, leisurely going over your sketches again as you wait for your fabrics to arrive. It had been preordered a month ago and the delivery was scheduled today. Precisely, two hours ago.
But you try not to worry. It's only 12 p.m., and there's probably traffic on the road since the working civilians are supposed to be having lunch now. But one hour turns into two. Then another one passes.
Before you know it, it's almost five in the evening, yet there's no sight of a truck or even a ring from the company itself. By the time you dial their office number, you have already done a cherry set on your nails, tidied up the space to accommodate your resources, and even sketched a whole damn new collection.
"Hello, this is The Nakakita. How may I help you?"
The Nakakita. A Japanaese establishment that is owned by the Nakakita family. You wouldn't have gotten in touch with such a prestigious supplier of the Japanese fabric materials had it not been for your cheating ex's connection in the fashion industry.
Maki is all things, and resourceful is one of them.
"Good evening. I'm Y/N. There's supposed to be a delivery for order #1284 today to my studio. Japanese denim, linen cotton, blended silk?"
Well, you might have sounded too demanding. But that's the least of your concern now.
"Oh, Miss Y/N. I'm terribly sorry, but this order was cancelled."
If your jaw could drop down to the ground right now, it would cause a huge-scale earthquake across the city.
"What? I never cancelled it, though?"
There is a sound of clicking on the keyboard from the end of the line. "Um…it was cancelled by the account holder two weeks ago. By Mr. Hirota Riki, approved by the heir himself, Mr. Nakakita Yuma."
What the actual fuck. Two weeks ago was when Maki had confronted you about the rumour spreading about his infidelity. Despite feeling a bit intimidated (not that you'd ever admit), you did no such thing and let his reputation continue to get tarnished. You still firmly believe that he did cheat and whatever manipulation he pulled on you was just an attempt at making you feel miserable.
Not only is his ego as big as he is and a gaslighter, but he is petty, too?!
You let out a disbelieving scoff. Oh my Goddess…That alpha is really something else. As if shattering your dream of having a mate wasn't enough, now he wants to interfere with your career path as well?
What a fucking weirdo.
"So, what happened to all those fabrics? I already paid for the deposit."
"Based on this record, it has been delivered to Miss Kim Areum three days ago and your money is in the process of being refunded back to your bank account."
And as if all of those things weren't enough to pull you under, Maki just has to deliver the final blow to the most sensitive part of your heart.
Of course he'd give those resources to his new girlfriend. Of fucking course.
It's like a cellotape on skin. Peeling it off would sting, taking away your body hair that gives you heat, and leaving sticky residue that wouldn't come off easily. Your relationship with Maki—during and after the breakup—has always left you with this hollow, sinking feeling that weighs heavy on your shoulders.
No matter what you did, if the relationship has ended or not, it'll always leave burn marks that you have been trying so hard to heal. And whether the world has moved on or not, it's always you bearing the ugly aftermath.
"…Miss?"
"I see," you finally speak, voice hoarse from suppressed anger. "Let Yuma know that my attorney will be in contact with your team soon."
"Wait—"
Not letting them finish, you end the call and toss your phone on the couch. Your perfectly blowed hair is now disheveled, untamed by your fingers as you pace the room. There's unshed tears hanging low on your waterline, waiting for the time to fall down, yet you still refuse to give in.
"Fuck!"
It's so unfair. It's so fucking unfair. It wasn't you who left, nor was it you who cheated and being disloyal—yet you are the one who have to pay the price for his crumpling ego? And now he's putting your hard-earned place in the fashion school on the line?
What a fucking manchild.
"What am I supposed to do? Goddess, help me—what am I supposed to do?"
You sink into the couch, the tears now slide down your cheeks with no restraints. There's a choked sob coming out of your throat, your scent souring with every hiccup slipping past your lips.
Time is not a luxury that you can afford now. Confronting Maki would only mess with your head more and result in nothing. You'd love to find a way to sue The Nakakita, but that's a matter that you'd like to solve after the fashion week ends.
Fuck. You barely have two months on your hands, yet you have just lost your resources that you have ordered a month ago. Finding a new supplier would be tough—since not many of them would take indiviual customers due to economies of scale. You are no wholesaler or retailer; catering to you would be expensive for them.
But you have to find a way somehow.
With a shaky hand, you tuck your hair behind your ears and grab your laptop. The tears are uncontrollable at this point, but it's not a sign to give up or stop. Your dainty fingers start typing fast on the keyboard, trying to search for any textile businesses that would make some space for you.
This is not how you imagine your evening would end. You had pictured measuring and cutting fabric pieces to fit your six-piece collection, getting prepared to start assembling them and fitting your models.
Yet here you are, giving calls after calls, accepting rejection after rejection from every business you try to contact. It's exhausting, the tears are now just cracked vulnerbaility on your cheeks. Somewhere along the way, you have accidentally snapped your manicured nails while typing.
"I'm sorry, you have to place an order three months prior in order to secure the fabrics."
This is the sixth one.
You barely hold back a sigh. "I see. Thank you for your time."
You slam your phone on the couch and start rubbing your face. This is hell. You're sure a truck had hit you somewhere on the road and this is your hell, punishing you for being such a bitchy omega to everyone around you.
But how could you not be one when everybody always gives you a reason to protect yourself?
Taking in a shuddering breath, you open your bleary eyes and stare at another line of name on the screen.
Sinar Textile.
It's operating until 8 p.m., which is unusual for many companies. Talking about the time, your stomach growls on instinct, as if reminding you of the skipped lunch and forgotten dinner that you are yet to acknowledge.
"This is the last one," you whisper to yourself. "If this too fails, I will fucking kill Maki."
You punch the number on your phone screen, exhaustion clinging to every movement. It's inhumane to sabotage someone like this; you wonder if you can sue Maki too somehow. He deserves it more than anyone in this world.
It takes five rings before the call gets picked up. A cheery voice greets you.
"Good evening! I am Jake from Sinar Textile. How can I help you?"
You rub your temple, appreciating the friendly tone while it lasts before you start threatening this poor Jake to agree to your proposal.
"Hi. I'm Y/N. I'm looking for a few bolts of fabric for my upcoming collection."
A rustle is heard from Jake's side. "Hello, Miss Y/N. When do you need the fabrics?"
You tap your fingers on your thigh. "Two weeks from now."
There's a few seconds of silence before Jake speaks again. "Are you a wholesaler or a retailer?"
I fucking knew it. "Um," you gnaw at your bottom lip, nerves grating your edges. "Neither. I'm in fashion school, and I need them for my fashion week."
Please. Please accept me. Please take my request. Oh Goddess, this is the least you can do for justice.
But unfortunately, Jake is not your Goddess. "I am sorry, Miss Y/N, but our business strictly provides for wholesaling and retailing establishments only. As for indivi—"
"Please," you let out before you could stop yourself. "I'll take scraps or leftovers. Or even any cancelled order. I'll take anything but please don't turn me down."
You are never one to beg. Especially not to alphas. And while you're not sure about Jake's secondary gender, he's still a man and it still feels humiliating to beg.
But you don't have many choices now, do you? You care more about your degree than your dignity as of now.
The hesitance in Jake's silence is loud. "Miss Y/N, I am a mere part-timer here. I'm afraid I don't have the power to decide."
"Then let me talk to the person in charge, please."
You feel bad for Jake for putting him in a tough spot like this. But to be fair, he's receiving your kindest energy now—since you've lashed out on many other receptionists prior to this call, when you were still brimming with anger.
"Please wait a moment."
You inhale sharply. Is this really happening?
It doesn't take long before a feminine voice takes over the call. "Hello. You're speaking to the CEO of Sinar Textile. I am Mrs. Park."
You straighten up. "H-Hello, Mrs. Park. I apologise for the late disturbance."
The woman hums. "It is not a big deal. My receptionist has told me about your situation. Unfortunately, we do not supply for individuals like you."
The hope blooming in your chest deflates instantly. You close your eyes as you gather your composure.
"I—Please, ma'am. I don't know how to tell you that I desperately need them for my fashion week." For a strange reason, you feel yhe need to give her context. You're no careless student who forgot to book her supplier until last minute—you just got sabotaged. "My supplier terminated our agreement after my…ex-boyfriend intervened."
The woman seems to consider this, as her next words give you a sliver of hopium. "Please email me your sketches. Then I will consider. What's your name again, Miss?"
"Y/N. I am Y/N."
"Y/N?" She repeats, and if you tried to listen hard enough, you'd be able to detect the hint of recognition in her tone. "Great, Miss Y/N. Email me at [email protected], then I will let you know my decision."
Relief floods your senses like a tidal wave. With trembling lips, you try to piece your words together.
"Thank you, Mrs. Park. I—I'll take anything. Leftovers—or any defects. I can do it. Please consider my request."
"No worries, Miss Y/N. I'll get back to you the soonest tomorrow."
And with that, the call ends. You slump in your seat.
You could've gotten the details of their wholesale customers and buy from them, but from experience, you knew that getting the materials directly from the sources is hundreds time better in terms of quality and the price. And you have reports to submit much later on, where your budgeting would be questioned like you just laundered the national income.
Later that night, you arrive home with this aching need to be comforted. Instead of a pile of all the soothing scents you've encountered in your life, you open the door to your empty bed, void of any nest. Your mom's bedroom is just one door away, but it's too late to ask for cuddles, isn't it?
You open your wardrobe, staring at the empty spot where your nesting blankets used to be.
"It's just a nest," you convince yourself. "I'll feel better after waking up."
Completely ignoring the twisting pain in your gut, you settle yourself under the cover after washing up.
Sundays are fun days, and this time, your kind of fun is rushing your chauffeur to take you to your studio and threatening him into disregarding every traffic rule he's ever learned about.
"Miss, the light is red."
"I don't care."
"We will get fined."
"I will pay," you urge.
The chauffeur closes his eyes. "Please don't tell your mother."
And that's how a fifteen-minute drive could be cut into ten minutes of ride only. Your thanks barely leaves your lips as you rushes out, trying your best to look put-together while also lightly sprinting to the private studio that you've rented since your first year, located inside the university compound.
This morning, you woke up to an email from Sinar Textile. Mrs. Park, bless her heart—seems so taken with your sketches and has decided to give you some leftovers of their previous arriving batch from Japan. It's like the Goddess has finally taken pity on you overnight, and proving that the evil shall perish altogether (Fuck you, Maki).
You spend the entire ride mentally redesigning half your collection. Leftovers are more than enough. You'll make them work. You always do.
By the time you reach the studio, your mood has improved significantly.
There are bolts of fabric, stacked near the door to your studio. Two men wearing short-sleeved Polo stand around the stack, chatting with each other while waiting for your arrival. You waste not even a second and approach them faster.
"Good morning!" You greet them enthusiastically, so unusually you, but you're too giddy to care. "Are you from Sinar Textile?"
The shorter of the two greets you back, a puppylike smile stretching wide on his face. "Hello! You must be Miss Y/N. I'm Jake, and this is Sunghoon. We are the part-timers from Sinar Textile."
The latter bows to you. Up close, you finally notice the wolf ears nestling among his pitch-black hair. Oh, so he's a wolf hybrid. No wonder his pheromones are still strong to your nose despite the thick scent patch glued to his neck.
Well, first of all—Sinar Textile sure hires only super good-looking guys to work with them. If you weren't so into your post-breakup feelings, you might think about asking for their numbers after this.
"Nice to meet you two. Now, shall we?"
"We're waiting for Jay."
Your brow jumps at that. Who is that? "Jay? Is he supposed to be here?"
"Yeap! He went to take the last bolt of your Japanese denim—oh there he is!"
You know the saying, every good thing comes with a price? While yes, there is a price tag to every bolt of fabric tha you receive from Sinar Textile today—apparently, there is a hidden tax that you have to pay the Goddess for granting you with this opportunity after Maki's stupid stunt yesterday.
And that tax is Jay. Or more precisely, if your memory hasn't betrayed you—the pervert alpha from the frat house party a few weeks ago.
There he is indeed, walking down the hallway in a similar black Polo shirt. He's carrying a bolt of Japanese denim, but does he have to carry it on his shoulder like that? It looks so show-off-y, what with the way his biceps stretch against the sleeves, bulging muscle straining under the weight of the fabric. His face is as handsome as you remember it, and without the dim light of the porch, every cut of his face is clearer for your eyes to see now in broad daylight.
Damn it. Why does he have to be so infuriatingly good-looking?
Your smile has never dropped so fast, but it's the opposite case for the alpha, because as soon as he recognises you—you've never seen a smile light up so fast.
"Cherry?"
You could barely tone down your irritation. Who the hell is Cherry?
"Are you the other part-timer?"
Jay blinks confusedly. He glances at the clipboard in his hand, and then his eyes widen imperceptibly.
"Oh—I apologise. You're Miss Y/N, right?"
"Yes, that's me," you narrow your eyes at him. But Jay only smiles back. "And you are Jay."
His eyes shine—what the heck?—at the mention of his name. "You know my name? It's actually Park Jongseong, but you can call me Jay. It sounds better when you say it."
You try to ignore the offended gasp coming from Jake.
"Are you flirting with me?"
"I'm not!" Jay is fast to deflect, shaking his head when you only stare at him thretaeningly. "I just—I think—I just want to…talk to you?"
Jake and Sunghoon wince from sheer awkwardness.
"Aren't you here for Sinar Textile?"
"Yes."
"Then we're here strictly for business. I am going to open my door and you three will carry the bolts inside, and then you leave. Understand?"
If Jay were to have wolf ears like Sunghoon, they'd droop like wilting flowers from your tone alone. "I understand," he gives in, then shoots a serious look at two of his friends behind you.
"Boys, let's get moving!"
Jake springs up with a salute. "Aye aye, captain!"
You sigh and unlock the door to give way to them. The three boys lift two bolts at the same time, marching in like soldiers ready for the battlefield. Jay stops briefly in front of you, and you prepare another scolding if he tried to say something absurd again.
"Where would you like these?"
You almost falter by the unexpected, but you don't let it show. "At that corner. I tidied up that space for these bolts yesterday."
Jay nods and wordlessly steps further inside. You watch as the three men move effortlessly together, avoiding mannequins and putting down the bolts gently like true experts. They seem close, judging by how at ease they are with each other. Probably just three best friends working part-time together to kill the time while gaining extra pocket money.
Jake, being the first one to reach the corner, claps his hands and looks around. There's amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Wow, this is my first time at the fashion building and I already got to be in a private studio."
You quirk up an eyebrow. "Are you from around here?"
There's a surprised chuckle from the beta. He slaps a hand on Sunghoon's shoulder, but the wolf hybrid barely budges.
"Yeah, we attend this university too! I am from engineering, Sunghoon is from law school, and Jay is from the business department—obviously, if he wants to inherit this company."
Your curiousity is growing like a moving snowball. "Inherit…?"
"Sinar Textile is owned by his parents. He's just doing this on the weekend when he's got nothing to do with his basketball team," Jake casually says like he didn't just drop the bombest bomb you've heard the entire week.
That says a lot, considering The Nakakita incident yesterday.
And—What?! Sinar Textile is—what—so Mrs. Park is his mother?
You are left with no words. Not that you could muster anything, when said guy is already speaking. "Stop referring to me like I'm not in the same room as you."
Jake pouts at that. "Well, you're busy with your clipboard, so why not?"
"I am counting the inventory and preparing the invoice for Miss Y/N," Jay smoothly says, while he's scribbling something on the clipboard. You ignore the efficient way his hand moves, the veins popping on his forearms, and the pout he makes when he's focusing.
When he chances you a glance, you scowl back at him. The alpha only smiles.
It's so irritating. Why does he keep smiling?
"Alright boys, get back to the van. I'll follow you after I'm done with the invoice."
"Stop bossing me around! We are the same age!" Jake protests.
"Well, technically, I am your boss."
"A boss baby! You are not even the CEO yet!"
Sunghoon only sighs and drags Jake by the arm to follow him. He stops momentarily in front of you, gives you a short bow and a 'thanks'—that you reply back with a 'thanks' too, what the heck?—before he leaves with the beta. Jake waves his hand at you, his previous pout melting into a wide grin.
"See you again, Miss Y/N!!! Please invite me to your fashion week!"
If it weren't for Sunghoon's tail and wolf ears, you'd think that Jake was the hybrid. Probably golden retriever—that seems to suit him more.
It's only when Jay clears his throat that you're reminded you're left alone with him in this studio. Instinctively, you back into the door, putting more distance between the two of you. Jay doesn't seem to mind or take offence, he just gives you that easy smile that's been putting you on edge since fifteen minutes ago.
"Two bolts for Japanese denim, linen cotton, and blended silk each. This is your invoice. You may make the first payment when we send you an email," Jay speaks, his tone professional, as he hands you a piece of paper the size of A4. "Please sign here."
You take the pen painfully slowly, trying to avoid any physical contact, and sign.
"If you need anything more, please feel free to contact me." You glare at him. "Or any of us, really! But don't hesitate—my mom told me to put you on our priority list."
There he goes again. Typical alpha trying to flirt his way into your pants. As if you had forgotten about his perverted gaze a few weeks ago!
You cross your arms and dare to look into his eyes. "Thank you. I will contact Jake."
Jay purses his lips. "That's great. Jake works every Saturday and Sunday, while Sunghoon works after 3 p.m. on weekdays. Please feel free to reach out."
He opens his mouth, seemingly to add something, but decides against it when he smiles instead.
"It's actually nice to see you again," he mutters almost quietly, his tone soft and delicate, the grip of professionalism loosening. "I've been hoping I could run into you again."
But you're not easily swayed by sweet-faced alphas like him. "So you can, what, stare at my chest again?"
Jay's ears perk and blush a deep shade of pink. "What? No! Y/N—" he shakes his head, eyes pleading. "I really meant it when I said that I didn't mean to! I swear I'm not a pervert. Please forgive me."
"But you still stared."
"I…did." His voice becomes quieter, the confession feels like cold air hanging in the studio.
Jay shifts in place. The way you stare at him all cold and menacingly seems to undo him more than anything. From where he stands, he can catch a whiff of your scent—the sweet cherry that's been haunting him since that night.
You're so pretty even when you're mad, glaring at him like some kind of a criminal like this. A sight that he's not used to, because people often look at him like an angel sent from the Goddess as an apology on behalf of the alpha population.
"Y/N," he begins, already making up his mind. Your name falls easily from his lips now that he finally gets the chance to know it. "I would like to apologise. I made you feel uncomfortable twice, and probably unsafe, too. I deserved to get beaten more than what you did that night."
"Yeah, I should poke your eyes for good measure. Making sure your eyes don't stare at omegas like that again."
"I don't do that with other omegas, though. Only with you."
"So, congratulations? I'm your first victim?"
Jay panics. "No!"
"Your favourite victim?"
"No!"
"Your exclusive victim?"
"Please stop saying victim."
"Then stop staring at my boobs. You're doing it again." The corner of your lips lifts when the crimson on his ears deepens. Okay. It's kind of fun teasing him, and truthfully, you're no longer that upset from his behaviour that night.
"No, I'm sorry," Jay dips his head lower, staring at his feet, not catching your intention. "It's very wrong of me. I sincerely apologise. Please forgive me."
Your heart does something strange. The sincerity in his voice is unlike any other you've heard from not even a single alpha before. It's raw with honesty and vulnerability, like he actually spends every night dwelling on this mistake of a first impression he had made of himself.
But you say nothing. You simply stare at the alpha whose eyes are remorsely fixed on the ground.
"I know you probably don't trust me."
You snort. "Obviously."
"But I hope one day you'll feel safe around me."
There it goes again—your heart, lurching like Jay was a K-drama main lead saying something corny to win the heroine over. But this is not fiction, and Jay is not your alpha, nor are you his omega.
"Are you threatening me with a next time?"
He shifts again. "May I earn another first impression someday?"
You almost scoff at that. You wish there's no next time or someday! ...Though, you admit, if you put aside the two—or three if you count just now—times he stared at your boobs, it has been quite alright to talk to him.
He just has this aura that puts people at ease around him. Maybe it's his face, or the citrusy scent coming from him that easily tops every other masculine pheromones you have ever sniffed, but Jay just has a way with words that makes you feel like old acquaintances.
Whatever. A pervert is still a pervert!
"Actually, my family has chosen an alpha for me."
Jay's smile falters. "Oh."
You lift your chin proudly. "Yeah! Apparently his family is very wealthy, and he's ridiculously handsome too."
Jay only blinks at you, taking every hint of rejection like a champ. "I see. I mean—that's what you deserve. An omega like you doesn't deserve anything less than that."
Your eye twitches. Why is he so damn good with words? You can't tell if it's genuinelt who he is or if it's all performative. And that infuriates you.
With a newfound determination to flaunt an unknown alpha, you triumphantly nod. "And everyone says that he's the most perfect gentleman. My mom said that he's—" How was he again? "—Very capable and hardworking. I can't wait to marry him!"
Now, you're pushing it. You don't want to marry that alpha. Hell, you're just about to accept the dinner invitation after this!
"That's good…" Jay scratches his cheek. Damn it. Jay realises that you're really trying hard to reject him, even when he hasn't said explicitly that he likes you.
But Jay is a man who can take a hint.
"That's quite a reputation. I really hope he treats you well."
"He will."
Jay purses his lips, trying to swallow down his disappointment. Of course. A pretty omega like you is rarely ever single or unclaimed, even though he doesn't see any mark on your nape or sense any alpha presence around your scent.
Sigh. Just as he finally found an omega that he genuinely likes.
"I wish you and your alpha the best, Miss Y/N." Jay lowers himself to a 90-degree bow. "Thank you for trusting Sinar Textile, and I'm sorry again."
And with that, Jay takes his leave, until the echo of his footsteps fades into oblivion. Once you're confident that you're out of his earshot, you instantly fish for your phone and call your mother.
"Mom!"
"Hello darling~ Did everything go well with the shipment?"
You bite your nails. "Yes, yes it did. Mom, I need your help."
"What is it, sweetheart? Have you finally decided to buy that new handbag from Bonia?"
"No, Mom. I think," you close your eyes and sigh exasperatedly. Truly, there's no one else that puts you in worst case scenarios but yourself and your life decisions.
"I think I'm ready to meet that alpha that you like so much."
As expected, your mother squeals into the phone and you have to force your phone away from your ears.
Great.
Now you have to mentally prepare yourself to sit with an alpha boasting about his wealth and alpha-ic achievements for approximately two hours.
All because you wanted to avoid Jay.
Or so you thought.
Of course, fate—the little evil author that it is—decides that humiliation ritual would be the perfect trope for your failing love life.
Because why the hell are you seeing Jay coming out of the black Mercedes now parked in your mansion?!
"Mom!" You whisper-yell, already halfway bolting upstairs when you see him and his parents start walking towards the door of your house. "You said that the alpha's name was Park Jongseong!"
Your mom, who's been gushing over how handsome and perfect Jay is for you from behind the curtain where the both of you are spying on the newly-arrived guests, only nudges your shoulder gently.
"He is Park Jongseong. And those are Mr. and Mrs. Park."
"No! That's—that's Jay!"
Your mom coos, fanning her face dramatically and turning to your father. "Oh my, honey, did you hear that? They're already on nickname terms with each other."
You feel like climbing the stairs and purposely falling and rolling down to the ground.
This cannot be real!
"Wait," your mother suddenly stops her dramatic gesture. She fixes you with a curious gaze, eyes squinting suspiciously.
"How do you know him?"
Maybe jumping would be faster and easier.
On the other side of the door, Jay has been fiddling with the collar of his suit for the tenth time. Beside him, Mrs. Park is frowning, swatting at his hand when he reaches for his tie again.
"Why are you fixing your tie again? It already looks perfect."
Jay swallows. "I don't know."
No, he actually knows why. Jay has never been able to lie truthfully—an irony that always amuses his friends. His body is vibrating with never-ending nerves ever since he had reluctantly agreed to his mother's planned family dinner with the omega she has taken a liking too.
Yeap. To put it simply, Jay is nervous.
And his mother catches it, if the soothing accent of her scent is telling something. "You'll like her," she convinces. Then, as if it was an afterthought, she adds, "You already met her."
If Jay was shocked, he didn't let it show.
Well, it doesn't matter, does it? When his wolf and himself have been so captivated by you.
Whoever this omega is, Jay wants to apologise in advance. He thinks he needs a couple of months to properly move on from the wonder of you before he'll be ready to accept any dating arrangement again.
"If you're confident that I'll like her, then I hope she's the person I have on my mind, Mom."
And that is the truth. If he had already met this omega and his mother's instincts are sure that he'd fall for her—then it can't be no one else but you.
Jay had crossed paths with many omegas. He had been flirted with, pursued, and even outright confessed to more times than he could count, yet no one had occupied his thoughts quite like you.
And to think that you're spending your time with another alpha…
Jay swallows down the bitterness and forces his pheromones to calm down.
Too lost in his frantic, chaotic mind, Jay hasn't realised that he's already standing in front of the door. It swings open before any of them could press the doorbell, revealing a beautiful couple and…
"Cherry?"
His cherry.
When the scowl appears on your face, Jay feels like a diver finally coming up to the surface for air. The nerves that have been jagging every edge vanish almost instantly, now replaced with a relief so profound it feels like being given a second chance at life again.
It's really. Really. You.
"It's Y/N, you dummy."
That hostile gaze. That frown and unfriendly tone.
It's really you.
The smile that spreads across Jay's face is so hopelessly fond that Mrs. Park immediately knows she doesn't have to do any matchmaking tonight. Your frown deepens, hating the blatant display of joy that's coming from him.
What is he so giddy about?!
Meanwhile, your mother is completely oblivious to the glare you're shooting at him.
"I told you, they're already using endearments for each other!"
You hope the ground could swallow you.
Jay hopes the ground could move and bring him closer to you.
😭😭😭😫😫I love how u wrote Jay in this so much nanda oh my godddd yasss the way he keeps smiling at the reader and begging her to forgive him I NEED THAT PART 2 GRRRRRR
thanks for the tag @nichoberri babo you never bother me!!
i always get told i remind people of a black cat, especially people who know me irl because they say im quiet but intelligent (this is not self glaze i swear they say this)
but they also say owls and it used to be my fav animal for a long long time
only my sisters say i would be a pufferfish if i was an animal because im cute until i get mad but i think thats pretty accurate😭
Wait this is so cute ty for the tag love @sunmoonnie
tag game ! — what animals represent you
Am convinced that the deer is the one that resembles me mosapparently because my face fits the "deer archetype beauty" However sometimes given my booba eyes and slightly round face people also commonly say I remind them of a pump or a rabbit but the most one is deer🦌🐰🐶
thank you for the tag @woninlove I love these type of games so much!
Swimming Otter 🦦Because I'm a lane swimmer (freestyler) and synchronized swimmer (basically dancing in the water). I also used to do board diving.
Elephant 🐘: emotionally intelligent like my parents (my brother says so too I had to ask him)
Scottish Fold Cat: My elderly neighbor is a cat mom, and she says I remind her of a Scottish Fold 🐈 because of my quiet demeanour and round face. It's kind of cute.
honorable mention: Poodle Pups: My friends and cousins said it's because of my wavy curls. They also said I'm very reserved and observant when it comes to people.
tags (feel free to join if you see this in your fyp): @addictedtohobi @grandlightcandy @m1kkso @en-cityyy @aloveminsalade @ayliyahlyla @airixki @kjunebuggie @reep04 @mysticaljiminie @nicaa9002 @samsquanch02 @mayawastaken26 @satorusleft-eye @saphiranishimurashan @beomgyustea @justpassingdontworry @sugarangelhoon @iiamskz
To be totally honest, it took me a loooong time to think of more than one animal 🫠
Tuxedo cat: I love cats, I own countless cat-themed items, I’m a cat owner, I live for cats 😔, and I really feel my personality is just like a tuxedo cat's, so...
Komodo dragon: Okay, this might be weird, but look—I’m not just a fan of biology and reptiles; I’m actually studying the subject. Komodo dragons are really important to me because they were part of my journey into biology and my love for reptiles; I absolutely adore them—they’re my all-time favorite reptiles!
Sloth: No big reason here, I’m just slow and sleepy
Honorable mention! - Raccoons and ravens: I really love them, okay? They’re amazing animals 😭😭
tag game ֶָ֢ᐟ — 3 animals that represent you?
thank u for tagging me!!! this was so fun to do! ❤️✨
cat: forever and always a cat girly i love them so muchhh even had them as pets :3
ferret: if there's one animal that i think is my spirit animal it would lwk be a ferret. i think i'm as hyper, energetic, friendly and playful as they can be!
lamb: this was a hard one cuz i really had to think about what else would prolly represent me, and then i thought this cute animal would be perfect because i love knitting and i love stitching so i thought of their wool lol. i love crafts and all that!
the ones i wanted to tag are already tagged, so leaving the tag empty for whoever wants to join in! :)
there may be ups and downs, but you would still always be their noona.
w.c.: 16k
themes: sfw, cursing, humor, arguments, hurt, reader and jungwon have a fight, reader is enha's 8th female member, the enha boys can be in any age range you want but just imagine you're around the same age as the jaykehoon trio
note: i'm half happy with how this came out. check out my other works! (masterlist). absolutely NO plagiarizing my work
when someone asks you what it's like having heeseung as an oppa, you never really have to think about it. the answer comes easily, like it's been sitting in your chest waiting to be said. you always tell them he's reliable, that he's the kind of person who notices when you're being overwhelmed before you even say anything, and that whenever the others start teasing you a little too much or bothering you just to see your reactions, heeseung is always there to swoop in and save the day. you tell them he has this calm presence, like the eye of a storm, and that standing next to him makes you feel a little safer, a little steadier. like he'll have your back no matter what happens.
when someone asks you what it's like being the youngest in the same age line as jay, jake, and sunghoon, you usually give a little unhinged laugh first, a little like you've been through something. you tell them you've probably been traumatised enough for life, that living with those three feels like being trapped in a reality show where 'no rules' is the only rule, and then you follow it up with a half-serious, half-dramatic "alas, i still love them" or sometimes even a "help me call the police" just to make them laugh. and honestly, you mean both.
but when someone asks you what it's like being a noona to the three youngest members of enhypen, you always pause just for a few seconds longer because that question hits different.
you find yourself staring off somewhere, maybe at the floor or the wall or your own hands, because how are you supposed to explain something that feels so soft and so loud at the same time? how do you put into words the way sunoo is always there to cheer you up, the way jungwon looks at you like you're someone he trusts with his whole heart, the way ni-ki acts like he doesn't care but somehow always ends up right by your side?
to you, you are their one and only favourite and only noona in the group, and you say that with your whole chest. they might tease you, they might drive you insane, but they're so openly affectionate and caring that anyone who says otherwise is lying. being their noona makes your heart stretch in a different way making it ache and warm all at once.
so eventually, when people keep pressing for an answer, you smile and tell them the truth.
you tell them they're your babies. little boys who love towering over you just to make a point, who give you migraines with their endless energy, who whine into your ears every five seconds about something ridiculous or dramatic or both. little boys who poke at you, tease you, and look at you with mischievous grins like they know exactly how much power they have over you. because according to them, who else are they supposed to lovingly tease?
you may have your ups and downs with them, but at the end of the day you always know how much you mean to each other in ways that don't need to be said out loud. it's in the way they look for you in a room, in the way they call your name when something goes wrong, in the way they still come running to you even when they're pretending they don't need you.
nothing is worth more than your friendships with them.
not the fame, not the noise, not the hecticness that comes with being who you all are. because when everything else falls away, it's still you and them, still your laughter echoing through the dorm, still their voices whining and teasing and yelling "noona!" like it's the most important word they know. and you wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.
you were tucked into one of the corners of the practice room, the cool wooden floor pressing against your palms as you stretched your legs out wide in front of you. you leaned forward slowly, reaching for your toes, feeling the familiar pull along your thighs as you tried to warm your body up for the intense dance practice that was about to begin. the mirrors reflected everything back at you, the bright lights overhead, the scuffed floor, and all of the boys scattered across the room.
some of them were still stretching, quietly focused, while others were already goofing around, laughing and nudging each other like they always did before practice officially started. their voices filled the space in a way that was comforting but also a little overwhelming, especially with the way your thoughts were spiralling today.
you were nervous.
yesterday's practice had been rough, at least in your head. the choreography had been tricky, full of sharp transitions and fast footwork, and even though everyone had made mistakes, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were the only one really struggling. you remembered the way your feet hesitated, the way your mind blanked out on certain counts, and how you had fallen just a little out of sync more than once. the choreography teacher had reassured you, telling you it was fine, that everyone was learning and messing up, but insecurities have a way of ignoring logic.
you reached a little farther toward your toes, a small frown on your face as you held the stretch. you didn't want to be the reason practice slowed down today, nor did you want to be the one holding everyone back, and the idea of it made your chest feel heavy, like there was something pressing down on you from the inside.
you glanced around the room, watching the others move so easily, so confidently, and that familiar thought crept in again, quiet but cruel.
you let out a small breath, trying to shake it off, but it clung to you anyway, settling somewhere deep in your mind.
curse your insecurities, you thought bitterly.
as you were leaning up from your stretching position still distracted by your own thoughts, you suddenly felt something lightly flick your forehead. you blinked in surprise at the sharp little sensation and looked up, only to find ni-ki standing right in front of you. his hands were tucked lazily into the pockets of his loose sweatpants, his hoodie pulled over his head in that way that always made him look a little too comfortable, a little too mischievous. he tilted his head as he looked down at you, eyes curious in that relaxed, observant way of his.
"what's with that ugly frown?" he asked, voice casual but teasing.
you scoffed, immediately looking away as you brought a hand up to rub your forehead, more to hide yourself than anything else as you continued stretching. "i'm not frowning." you muttered under your breath, stubborn and quiet.
ni-ki didn't move. he just stayed there, standing over you watching. after a moment he pulled one hand out of his pocket and gently tugged at your hair, not enough to hurt, just enough to get your attention. "you were frowning. don't lie."
you swatted his hand away, choosing to ignore him even though now the frown on your face was obvious. you were too worried, too lost in your own head to even try hiding it anymore.
ni-ki studied you for a few more seconds, his gaze lingering on your face before he moved. you watched him step around and come to stand directly in front of you, nudging your legs a wider apart with his foot and then lowering himself down onto the floor, sitting right in front of you and opening his legs to mirror your stretching position.
he held his hands out toward you, palms open and waiting.
you looked at him warily before letting out a small reserved sigh. you reached forward and took his hands, letting him pull you gently closer so you could continue stretching, even though what he was really doing was pulling you back out of your own head, just a little.
for a few minutes the two of you stayed like that, quietly helping each other stretch. you took turns leaning back and pulling each other forward by the hands, the slow rhythm of it almost calming, like a small routine that existed just between you. the sounds of the rest of the room faded into the background, the laughter and footsteps and music tests becoming distant, replaced by the steady feeling of ni-ki's grip and the gentle pull in your muscles.
the maknae's eyes never left your face. he watched you carefully, the way your brows stayed knit together, the way your lips were pressed into a thin line, and the way you didn't look up even once. meanwhile, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground in front of you, staring at the floor like it held all the answers, trying not to think too hard about everything weighing on your mind.
it was quiet between you, but it wasn't empty. it was full of all the things you weren't saying.
after a few more silent stretches, ni-ki finally spoke up, his tone light but pointed. "are you gonna let that frown pay rent on your face or what?"
you immediately let go of his hands and shot him a glare, your eyes finally lifting to meet his. "i'm not in the mood right now." you muttered lowly, irritation slipping into your voice.
he only smiled at you, wide and a little smug, clearly pleased that he'd finally gotten you to look at him. he nudged one of his stretched-out feet against yours and leaned forward, crossing his arms loosely over his knees. his voice dropped, softer now, more serious as he called out to you. "noona, what's wrong?"
your furrowed brows slowly relaxed, the tension in your face easing just a little as you looked away from him. your eyes drifted to where sunghoon had sunoo trapped in a loose chokehold a few feet away, sunoo loudly yelling curses and struggling while jungwon laughed nearby, a dramatic and familiar scene.
you finally let your shoulders slump. "i'm just… nervous about messing up today's practice."
he glanced back at the others before returning his attention to you, his eyes sharp and observant like they always were, and sometimes you really couldn't tell if that was a blessing or a curse. "what do you mean?"
you shrugged, looking down at the space between the two of you again, fiddling with your fingers. "i dunno. i just… really sucked at practice yesterday. 'm scared today's gonna be the same and we're gonna fall behind 'cause of me…"
you looked up briefly and saw the confused look on his face. "noona, we all were messing up yesterday."
"yeah," you replied quietly, "but, i was a bit more…"
ni-ki shook his head as you trailed off, leaning forward just to flick your forehead again. you yelped, instantly bringing a hand up. "stop that."
"listen," he cut in, his tone firm but not unkind. "it's practice. it's okay if you mess up. that's literally why we have it in the first place. and honestly i'm kind of relieved you forgot, but you seem to be forgetting that i literally tripped and fell on my ass yesterday. totally uncool, i know."
his lips twitched with a small grin before he continued, eyes steady on yours. "but you gotta stop thinking about yourself like that. none of us think you did worse than us or anything. i mean, look at me. i'm a dancing machine, but i didn't just become that in one day, right?"
you didn't answer him. instead, you just kept frowning at the floor, staring down at the wooden panels like they were somehow responsible for how you were feeling. ni-ki noticed and a soft laugh slipped out of him at the sight.
"sigh, so stubborn." he tutted.
he was already moving before you had any ideas of deepening your frown, stepping around to stand behind you and suddenly feeling his hands slide underneath your arms, and with an effortless lift, he pulled you up off the floor. "hey—" you started surprised, but he was already setting you back down on your feet.
he moved to stand beside you and slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer to him, a familiar action. you could feel the warmth of him there, solid and grounding, and it made it harder to stay curled up inside your own worries.
"come onnnnn noona." he said, poking at your cheek, then your side, then your arm, clearly determined. "smile. you look scary like this."
you tried to stay serious, but he kept prodding and nudging you, teasing you in that annoying affectionate way that only he could get away with. you finally caved when he nudged his hips against yours, the unexpected contact making you stumble just a little. "hey." but he was already grinning.
"if you're really that worried," he said, voice lighter now, "i'll help you with the moves today."
you turned your head to give him a slow side-eye, suspicion written all over your face. "hmm? no ulterior motive behind your oh-so-generous offer?"
ni-ki snorted, stepping in front of you and throwing his arms wide like he was presenting himself on a stage. "i'm always this nice." he declares.
you rolled your eyes and bumped your shoulder into his, shoving him playfully. "alright... thanks." the heaviness in your chest slowly making its way for something that relaxes your nerves.
not long after, the dance instructor finally walked in, clapping their hands together to get everyone's attention, and the room quickly shifted from playful chaos to focused energy. you and ni-ki still found little moments to poke and tease each other in between, quiet whispers and small nudges that made it easier to breathe through the nerves.
whenever you came across a move that felt just a little too fast or a little too complicated, ni-ki would immediately step in. he'd move beside you, mirroring your steps, gently correcting the angle of your arm or the timing of your foot with soft words and quick demonstrations. he never made you feel stupid for asking, never made a big deal out of it, just guided you like it was the most natural thing in the world.
slowly, without you even really realising it, your confidence started to grow. the more you practiced, the less your body hesitated, and the more the choreography began to flow. by the time the session was coming to an end, you found yourself hitting the moves cleanly, your muscles remembering what your mind had been so afraid to forget. when the instructor nodded in approval, something warm bloomed in your chest.
later, as everyone packed up their bags and headed back toward the van, you found yourself walking alongside ni-ki. the air was cooler now, the day winding down, and the nerves you’d started with felt so far away.
you glanced at him shyly before looking back at your feet. "hey… thanks again for helping me today."
he smirked at you in response, not even slowing down as he suddenly pulled you into a loose headlock. you yelped, hands immediately flying up to try and pry him off, while his laughter rang out loud and clear, mixing with your whining.
"don't mention it noona."
you and sunoo lay side by side on his bed, shoulders barely brushing, the soft hum of the dorm settling into the background around you. the lights were dimmed, his lamp casting a gentle glow across the ceiling, and both of you had fresh face masks carefully smoothed onto your skin — ones he had proudly announced he bought just for the two of you.
"limited edition." he had said earlier, dramatically waving the packet in your face. "only for people with elite visuals."
now you both lay flat on your backs above the covers, hands resting on your stomachs, staring up at the ceiling like you were contemplating the universe instead of waiting for skincare to soak in. the air smelled faintly of whatever floral essence the masks were infused with.
"okay." sunoo suddenly said, voice echoing slightly in the quiet room. "who's most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse?"
you didn't even hesitate. "ni-ki."
sunoo turned his head slightly toward you. "what? why?"
"he's fast. and scary. and he wouldn't hesitate to trip one of you to save himself."
sunoo gasped. "he would not."
you turned your head to look at him, laughing. "he absolutely would."
he burst into laughter, the sound muffled slightly by the mask. "okay, fine. but who's most likely to get caught first?"
you hummed thoughtfully. "jake."
"i totally agree."
"he'd try to make friends with the zombies."
sunoo laughed so hard the bed shook slightly beneath you. "he would. he'd be like, 'guys maybe they're misunderstood.'"
you giggled quietly, the sound softer now as the late hour began wrapping around you.
"who's most likely to cry during a horror movie?" he asked next.
you both answered at the same time.
"you." "you."
sunoo turned to scoff at you. "how dare you noona."
you smiled innocently at the ceiling. "you literally scream when someone knocks on the door too loudly."
"no i don't." he grumbled. "anyways... who's most likely to get married first?"
"jay." you answer confidentally.
sunoo hummed in agreement. "he gives stable husband energy."
"he does." you said solemnly.
the 'who's most likely to' slowly dissolves into completely random made-up scenarios, both of you staring at the ceiling like you're scripting a whole alternate universe for the group.
"okay." sunoo says suddenly, voice soft but dramatic as always, "imagine we're stranded on a deserted island. who becomes leader?"
"jungwon." you answer instantly. "he'd pretend he doesn't want it but then start assigning tasks."
sunoo snorts. "jay would argue about it."
"jay would absolutely argue about it." you agree. "he'd start building something out of bamboo just to prove he's capable."
"jake would try to comfort everyone." sunoo adds. "like 'guys it's okay, we'll make the best of it.'"
you grin. "sunghoon would just sit on a rock looking annoyed."
"he'd say the sand is ruining his shoes."
you both giggle.
"heeseng," sunoo continues, "would quietly collect coconuts and somehow be the most productive."
you hum. "and ni-ki would climb the tallest tree for no reason. and then refuse to come down and then complain that no one appreciates his survival skills."
sunoo laughs so hard he has to press a hand to his stomach.
there's a pause before he speaks again.
"okay, imagine we're in high school."
you groan lightly. "we are not doing this."
"we are absolutely doing this."
you sigh dramatically but comply anyway. "fine. jungwon is class president."
"obviously."
"jay would be in the debate club and would take it too seriously. heeseung is that quiet top student who doesn't even try but gets full marks."
sunoo nods enthusiastically. "sunghoon is the popular senior everyone's intimidated by. but actually he's just awkward."
"jake is on the soccer team and befriends literally everyone."
"ni-ki," sunoo says thoughtfully, "is the tall underclassman everyone's scared of at first. but he's actually just loud."
you both laugh again, your voices softer now, sleepier.
"what about us?" sunoo asks after a moment.
you giggle. "we'd be the ones gossiping in the back of class. sharing snacks and judging everyone."
the laughter fades slowly, like it doesn't want to leave.
for a while, neither of you say anything.
the ceiling suddenly feels… bigger.
"sunoo." you murmur softly.
"hmm?"
you keep your eyes on the blank white above you. "what do you think you'd be doing right now… if you weren't in enhypen?"
there's no teasing in your voice this time. no game. just quiet curiosity.
there's a long pause and you can almost hear him thinking.
"i think…" he starts slowly, "…i'd probably still try to do something creative. maybe theatre, or maybe i'd be one of those university students who joins every club possible."
you smile faintly. that sounds like him.
"you'd be popular." you say without hesitation.
he scoffs. "no."
"yes you would." you insist softly. "you'd be the student everyone likes but is slightly intimidated by."
"intimidated?" he gasps quietly. "me?"
"you know you have that aura."
he hums at that, not denying it.
"i think…" he continues, voice softer now, "maybe i would've even liked to own my own bakery or cafe. that sounds like fun. but... i don't think i'd have been as confident."
that makes you fully turn your head toward him. "what do you mean?"
he takes a breath. "being here. being in this group. performing, struggling together, it made me to grow in one of the best ways." he laughs lightly. "i don't think old me would recognize me now."
your chest tightens just a little. "i think he'd be proud." you say quietly.
the corners of sunoo's lips lift up slightly.
the room is quiet again.
"what about you?" he asks gently. "what would you be doing?"
you think about it.
"maybe something boring." you joke. "office job. nine to five."
"no way." he says immediately. "you'd never survive that."
you snort softly.
"you'd probably still find your way back to us somehow." he adds.
you glance at him. "that's not how life works."
"i don't care." he says simply. "i think some people are meant to meet."
your chest tightens at that.
you slowly turn your gaze back up to the ceiling, blinking at the faint shadow from the lamp outside filtering through the curtains. your throat suddenly feels dry.
"…sometimes." you begin, your voice quieter now, almost careful, "i wonder if there's a world out there where i'm not with you guys. like… a world where i never debuted with you, where we never crossed paths, where i don'’t know jungwon, or heeseung, or jay, or jake… or ni-ki.”'t know any of you boys."
your fingers curl slightly against the sheets.
"where would i be?" you whisper. "and where would you all be?"
you keep talking, almost like if you stop, the thought will get stuck inside you."
"maybe i'd be a fan,” you wonder. "saving up money for concerts. screaming in the crowd."
you try to smile a little. it doesn't quite reach.
"or maybe i'd just be some regular university student. too busy studying. too stressed about exams. not even paying attention."
sunoo's fingers twitch slightly against the blanket.
"maybe i'd walk past you guys one day." you continue softly, voice almost distant now. "on the street. or at a cafe. and you wouldn't even know who i am."
there's a lump in your throat.
"i wouldn't know anything about you, and you guys wouldn't knwo anything about me... and we'd just walk by."
you swallow.
"…that makes me sad."
sunoo shifts beside you.
"…i don't like this." he says quietly.
you swallow. "i'm just thinking."
"don't noona." he replies almost immediately.
you glance at him, surprised by the firmness in his tone.
his eyes are still on the ceiling, but his jaw has tightened slightly.
"why not?" you ask gently.
he exhales through his nose.
"because it sounds like you're imagining leaving."
your heart drops. "that's not what i—"
"it is." he interrupts softly, not harsh, just… vulnerable. "even if you don't mean it like that."
you didn't expect that.
you turn fully onto your side now, looking at him. his face mask has started peeling slightly near his chin, but he doesn't bother fixing it.
"sunoo," you murmur, "i'm not planning on disappearing."
he finally turns his head to look at you.
"then why think about it?"
there's something fragile in his eyes.
you hesitate. "because it scares me," you admit. "how much you all mean to me."
he goes quiet.
"if i never met you," you continue softly, "i wouldn't know what i was missing. but now that i do… imagining a world without you guys feels wrong. empty almost."
your voice cracks just a little at the end.
"it's not that i want it," you add quickly. "i just… sometimes i wonder how fragile everything is. how one decision could've changed it all."
sunoo stares at you for a long moment. then he sighs.
"i don't like fragile." he says.
you almost smile.
"me neither."
he shifts closer under the blanket without really thinking about it. your shoulders press more firmly together now.
"there isn't a world," he says quietly, "that i care about where you're not here."
your breath catches. "sunoo…"
"i mean it." he says, eyes steady on yours now as he peels off his mask now, you doing the same. "before debut, after debut, in another universe, whatever. if there's a version of me somewhere… i hope you're there too."
the firmness in his voice makes your chest ache.
"that's a big thing to wish for." you whisper weakly.
"maybe." he shrugs lightly. "but i don't like imagining us as strangers."
he hooks your pinky into his as he speaks, voice low and steady now.
"i'm sure i'd feel it," he says quietly. "the silence. like… even if we didn't know what was missing, we'd still feel something was off."
his thumb rubs gently over your knuckles.
"all of us probably would."
the room feels still around you, the distant hum of the dorm faint beyond the door.
"there's a reason we keep circling around the word 'fate' noona," he continues. "we don't say it lightly."
you know that. you've heard it in interviews, in late-night conversations, in the way the members look at each other when they talk about their journey.
it's not just a word to them, not something they use for aesthetics.
it's something they believe in.
sunoo glances at you again, softer now.
"we worked hard, we chose this. but it also feels like… we were guided here."
"like threads pulling us together." you murmur.
he nods. "yeah. and you're part of that thread."
the words settle deep in your chest.
"who's most likely to never leave each other alone?" he softly whispers this time, facing his ceiling.
you turned your head back to the ceiling, eyes watery as you squeeze your pinky with his.
"us."
sunoo smiled without even looking at you. "yeah." he says, squeezing your pinky back."
"us."
the dormitory air feels wrong.
it's not loud, nor is it warm like it usually is. instead it's heavy, thick with tension that settles into everyone's shoulders and makes even the smallest movement feel deliberate. no one is sitting close. no one is laughing. the space between each member feels wider than it actually is, like the room itself is trying to keep people apart.
and in the middle of it all, you and jungwon are standing in the living room, facing each other with raised voices.
you don't even remember how it started anymore.
it had begun on the way back from practice, maybe with a comment that was misunderstood, maybe with exhaustion making everything sharper than it needed to be. but by now, after minutes of back-and-forth, neither of you can trace the original spark. it feels like it dissolved into something bigger, something fueled by frustration and pride and the kind of stubbornness that only comes out when both of you care too much.
your voice echoes off the walls as you speak, hands gesturing without meaning to, your tone sharper than you intend. jungwon stands across from you, equally heated, his brows drawn tightly together, eyes focused on you in a way that feels intense and unyielding. neither of you backing down.
the others linger at the edges of the room, frozen in uncertainty. heeseung stands a little apart, jaw tense but expression carefully controlled, watching without interrupting. jay and jake exchange quick glances, clearly trying to figure out whether stepping in would help or make it worse. sunghoon's arms are crossed, eyes shifting between you and jungwon with quiet concern. ni-ki stands slightly behind him, unusually still, his usual energy replaced by a guarded silence. and sunoo's not sure his heart can handle all the yelling.
no one knows what to say.
the argument keeps building, your words overlapping with jungwon's, neither of you fully listening anymore. it's not just about the topic at this point, whatever it was. it's about being heard, being understood. about the frustration of feeling like something important slipped through the cracks.
your breathing is uneven. jungwon's is too.
and as the seconds stretch on, the rest of enhypen throw each other worried looks, silently asking what they should do, silently hoping this doesn't spiral further because they've seen disagreements before. they've seen stress and exhaustion and arguments born from pressure.
but this feels different. this feels close to something fragile. and right now, the only thing filling the dorm is the tension hanging in the air between you and jungwon, both of you standing your ground, neither willing to step back just yet.
jungwon's jaw is clenched so tightly the muscle ticks near his ear. his hands are rigid at his sides, fingers flexing like he's physically holding himself back. you can feel the tension in your own body too—your fists curled by your thighs, nails pressing crescents into your palms.
you've disagreed before. of course you have. practice corrections, scheduling conflicts, small misunderstandings that dissolve with a sigh and an apology.
but never like this.
"don't act like you're the only one exhausted." you snap, the frustration that's been simmering for weeks finally spilling over. "we're all tired. we're all stressed. i don't understand why you're so wound up."
jungwon's eyes flash.
"because i'm the leader!" he fires back, the words coming out harsher than he probably intends. "i have responsibilities you don't even see. i have to answer for everything. the last thing i need is you all acting like children and getting us into trouble with the managers."
from the corner of your eye, you see jay shift uncomfortably. jake inhales like he's about to step in, then hesitates.
you scoff, the sound sharp and incredulous.
"children?" you repeat. "i'm not a child. and i'm certainly not acting like one."
jungwon's shoulders rise and fall with a controlled breath that isn't very controlled at all.
"you don't understand the pressure." he says, voice lower now but edged with something raw. "every mistake reflects on me. every small thing becomes my fault!"
"and you think it doesn't affect us either?" you shoot back. "you think we don't feel that pressure too??"
"that's not what i—"
"no, you just assume we're reckless." you interrupt, your voice climbing again. "like we're burdens you have to babysit."
his jaw tightens further.
"that's not what " said."
"it's what you implied."
the room feels smaller. hotter.
you shake your head, anger mixing with something more personal now.
“I’m not a child," you repeat no less firmly. "but you wouldn't know what that feels like anymore."
his brows knit together. "what's that supposed to mean?"
"it means," you say, the words spilling out before you can soften them, "you've gotten so bossy lately that you don't even listen. you just command. you decide. you assume."
there's a beat of stunned silence after that as your words hang in the air.
jungwon's nostrils flare, his composure cracking in a way you've almost never seen before. he takes a step closer, not aggressively, but close enough that the space between you shrinks into something tight and suffocating.
"say that again noona." he says, voice low, daring.
you don't hesitate.
"bossy." you repeat, staring straight at him. "that's all you are nowadays. commands. orders. schedules. corrections. it's like talking to a robot."
a muscle in his jaw jumps. "a robot?" he echoes, incredulous.
"yeah." you fire back. "like you forgot how to just be with us. everything has to be efficient. everything has to be perfect. everything has to go your way."
"because someone has to be serious when it matters." he snaps, his voice finally rising to match yours. "someone has to think ahead. someone has to care about consequences!"
"we care!" you shout back.
"do you?" he challenges immediately. "because from where i'm standing, you think everything is fine as long as it doesn't directly involve you."
that hits.
your eyes widen, anger flashing.
"that's NOT true!"
"isn't it?" he presses. "you brush things off. you joke. you say we'll deal with it later. but later becomes my problem."
"your problem?" you repeat sharply. "we're a group, jungwon. not some little group project!"
"i know we're a group!" he shoots back. "but when something goes wrong, who do you think gets called first? who do you think has to sit in those meetings? who has to answer when the managers are upset?!"
"so now we're burdens?" you demand. "is that it? we're just things you have to manage?"
"that's not what i said." he fights back.
"yeah? well that's exactly how you sound."
you both are breathing hard now, standing too close, words coming out faster than either of you can filter them.
"you don't listen anymore," you accuse. "you just decide what's right and expect us to follow."
"and you don't think before you act." he counters immediately. "you think passion fixes everything."
"at least i have passion." you snap.
his eyes flash.
"and at least i'm thinking about the future instead of just the moment."
"wow." you laugh bitterly. "so now i'm irresponsible?"
"if the shoe fits—"
"don't." you warn.
"then stop acting like i'm the villain for trying to keep this together." he fires back.
"no one asked you to carry it alone!" you shout. "you chose to act like that!"
"because if i don't, things fall apart!" he yells, louder than he has all night. "someone has to hold the line."
"we're not your soldiers." you grit out. "we're your members. your friends."
the word hangs heavy.
he looks at you, chest rising and falling, eyes bright with frustration.
"then start acting like it," he says, quieter but sharper. "instead of making things harder."
"harder?" your voice trembles, more from anger than hurt. "you think i make things harder?"
"sometimes." he admits, jaw tight.
that's when it spirals.
you throw back every time he corrected your tone. every time he pulled you aside to 'talk'. every time he dismissed your opinion because it wasn't practical enough.
he throws back every time you brushed off a warning. every time you rolled your eyes at a reminder. every time you undermined him in front of the others without meaning to.
accusations pile up.
you say he doesn't trust you.
he says you don't respect him as leader.
you say he's changed.
he says you refuse to be the older and responsible one between them.
neither of you notice the way the others have gone completely silent now, tension crackling through the dorm like static.
this isn't about practice anymore. it's not about managers.
it's about pride, about pressure, and about two people who care too much and are too exhausted to say it properly.
and neither of you is willing to be the first to step back.
"guys—"
"hey, let's just—"
noona, hyung, calm down please—"
but neither of you hear the other boys. or maybe you do, and you just don't care.
your arms cross tightly over your chest, your breath uneven, and you snap your head toward the others, frustration spilling over.
"you all agree with me, right?" you demand, eyes searching their faces desperately. "tell him i'm not crazy."
they freeze.
that's all it takes for jungwon to step in again.
"don't drag them into this." he cuts in sharply, moving closer. so close that suddenly there's barely any space between you. almost chest to chest. the proximity catches you off guard for half a second, and you have to crane your neck up to meet his eyes.
but you don't shy away. you match his glare.
"you always think you're right." he snaps suddenly.
the words hit you like a slap.
"excuse me??" you yell.
he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "you do this every time. you get emotional, you dig your heels in, and you refuse to see another perspective."
"oh my god." you laugh bitterly. "that's rich coming from you."
heeseung finally steps forward, unable to stay back any longer. his voice is firm but careful.
"guys, please. this is too much."
jake moves in too, gently reaching to place a hand on jungwon's shoulder.
“won, come on. just breathe for a second—"
jungwon shrugs him off almost instantly.
"no." he says, not even looking at him. his eyes are locked on you. "nnot until noona gets it in her brain that this shit is serious. i'm not backing down."
the word noona lands heavy.
it's not affectionate right now.
it's frustrated. sharp.
you feel your throat tighten but you refuse to let it show.
"i know it's serious!" you shout back. "you think i don't? you think i haven't been trying?"
"trying?" jungwon repeats, incredulous.
"yes, trying!" you step forward this time, closing whatever little space was left between you. "i've been doing my best to support you. i've been helping with practices, with schedules, with keeping the mood up when everyone's tired. i've tried to take things off your plate when i can!"
your voice wavers, just slightly.
"but you clearly haven't noticed. because you're too wound up in your own head."
that one lands.
for a split second, his expression flickers.
"don't." he warns.
"don't what jungwon." you press. "don't tell the truth?"
"don't act like you understand what it's like." he growls. "you don't sit in those meetings. you don't hear what i hear."
"then let me!" you fire back immediately. "let me in instead of shutting everyone out!"
your voice cracks at the edges, but it's strong, desperate, pleading beneath the anger.
jungwon's face hardens instead of softening.
"let you in?" he shoots back, his laugh sharp and humorless. "what, you think you'll actually be of any help?"
the room freezes.
it's subtle at first, the way everyone stills, but it's there. like the air has been vacuumed out all at once.
ni-ki's head snaps up, eyes narrowing.
"hyung—" he starts, a low warning in his voice, but you cut him off before he can continue.
you lift your chin, nose tilting up in wounded pride, eyes burning.
"what?" you challenge, stepping even closer despite the way your heart is starting to pound unevenly. "you don't think my help would do you any good?"
jungwon doesn't answer immediately.
the silence feels dangerous.
"you looking down on me now?" you press, your voice trembling not with fear, but fury.
and something in him finally breaks.
you see it happen. the moment where the frustration overrides the restraint. where the hurt turns into something reckless. his breathing is uneven, chest rising and falling too quickly, eyes dark and blazing with emotion he can't seem to regulate anymore.
he doesn't think.
he just speaks.
"yeah," he spits out. "kinda hard not to when you're such a hinderance."
the word lands like a physical blow.
your brain barely has time to process it before he keeps going, mouth moving faster than his mind can catch up.
"maybe the managers should've thought twice before allowing you into the group."
it's as if time splits open.
everything stops.
the dorm goes so quiet you can hear the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
you don't move. you don't blink. it feels like all the air has been sucked from your lungs at once, like something cold and sharp has driven straight through your chest. the word hinderance echoes in your head, over and over, overlapping with the rest of it.
maybe they should've thought twice.
maybe you shouldn't be here.
your body goes rigid, frozen in place. a cold chill creeps down your spine and settles deep into your bones.
around you, the others look like they've been punched in the gut.
heeseung's mouth parts in shock, eyes wide. jake's hand drops limply to his side, jay mutters a stunned "what the fuck." under his breath, sunghoon stands up from the chair he was sitting on. sunoo's face drains of color, and ni-ki's jaw tightens so hard it looks painful, anger flaring in his eyes.
jungwon is still breathing hard, chest heaving in and out, eyes locked on you with a storm of emotion that hasn't caught up to the damage he's just done.
you don't think you've ever seen him look like that.
not at you.
never at you.
it doesn't even feel real. like maybe you misheard.
but you didn't.
the silence stretches, suffocating.
your vision blurs slightly, and you realize too late that your eyes are filling. you try to swallow, to steady yourself, to say something back, something cutting and sharp enough to match what he just threw at you.
nothing comes out.
instead, a shaky, stuttered breath leaves your lips.
it's small, fragile. but in the dead silence of the room, it sounds deafening.
a single tear slips free before you can stop it, warm against your skin as it trails slowly down your cheek.
that's when it hits him.
you see it in real time. the anger drains from his face, replaced by something horrified. his breathing stutters, like he's just realized what he's done. his eyes flicker from your tear to your expression, and the weight of his words crashes down on him all at once.
"i—" he starts, but the word dies in his throat.
the damage is already done.
your voice feels like it's been stolen straight from your throat, replaced by something hollow and ringing. tears fall freely now, no longer held back by pride or anger, slipping down your cheeks one after another as you stare at jungwon like you don't quite recognize the person standing in front of you.
your arms have fallen to your sides. your fists are no longer clenched.
you just look… defeated.
sunghoon is the first one to move.
he had been rooted in place before, stunned like the rest of them, but something in your expression—something in the way your shoulders tremble—snaps him out of it. he strides forward without hesitation, jaw tight, eyes blazing in a way they rarely do.
he grabs jungwon by the shoulder and shoves him back, not violently, but firmly enough to create space.
"what the fuck do you think you’re saying?!" sunghoon growls, his voice low and shaking with anger.
jungwon stumbles a few steps back, caught off guard. his balance falters and he barely catches himself, eyes wide, mouth parted uselessly as he tries to find words that won't come.
"i— i didn't—" he stutters, but the sentence collapses before it can form.
he looks frozen. he's not angry anymore. just stunned, like he's only now hearing his own voice echo back at him.
the others move all at once after that, as if the spell finally breaks.
jay is at sunghoon's side in seconds, putting a hand on his chest to hold him back from advancing further. "enough." he mutters, though his glare is still locked on jungwon. "just— enough."
ni-ki steps forward too, placing himself halfway between jungwon and you, his expression darker than you've ever seen it. he doesn't say anything this time. he just stands there, protective and rigid.
heeseung moves toward jungwon, gripping his arm tightly, steadying him as he sways slightly.
"won," he says sharply, his voice carrying both authority and disbelief. "what was that?"
jungwon shakes his head faintly, like he's trying to wake up from something. "i didn't mean— i wasn't thinking—"
jake is the first to reach you, hands hovering awkwardly before he gently rests them on your shoulders. "hey." he says softly, voice completely different from the tension just moments ago. "hey, look at me y/n."
but you can't. your eyes are unfocused, staring at nothing.
sunoo steps in front of you, his own eyes glossy. he reaches up carefully and wipes at your cheek with his sleeve, his hand trembling. "noona…" he whispers, and there's something broken in his voice.
the living room feels split in half now.
half of them around you, trying to ground you, to steady you. half around jungwon, who looks like the floor has disappeared beneath him.
"this has gone too far." jay mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"we don't do that." sunghoon snaps, still seething. "we don't say things like that to each other."
jungwon's breathing is uneven, but not from anger anymore. it's panic now. regret crashing into him in waves.
"i didn't mean it," he says, voice cracking. "i swear i didn't mean it."
but the words feel weak in the heavy air.
because even if he didn't mean it—
he said it.
and you're still standing there, silent, tears falling freely, looking like something inside you just shattered.
the sound that leaves you is just a small, choked sob that you try and fail to swallow back down. but in the suffocating quiet of the dorm, it might as well be a scream.
jungwon's head snaps towards you immediately.
whatever shock had frozen him in place shatters at that sound. he breaks free from heeseung's grip without thinking, pushing past jay's arm, ignoring the way sunghoon steps forward again like he's ready to block him.
"noona—" his voice cracks as he rushes toward you.
but the second he gets close—
you flinch.
it's small, barely noticeable. your shoulders jerk and your body shifts back half a step like you're bracing yourself.
and that tiny movement breaks something in him completely.
he stops dead in his tracks as the look on his face crumples.
"no, no—" he breathes, shaking his head rapidly. "noona, i'm not— i wouldn't—"
sunoo is still beside you, one hand on your arm. jake stands slightly in front of you like a barrier, but he doesn't stop jungwon from speaking.
his voice is frantic now, stripped of all pride, all anger.
"i— im sorry." he rushes out, stepping closer again but slower this time, cautious. "i'm so sorry. i didn't mean it! i wasn't thinking. i swear to you i didn't mean a single word of that!"
you can hear him.
you know he's talking, you know he's apologizing. but it feels like you're underwater.
his voice sounds distant, muffled, like it has to travel through something thick before it reaches you. your heart is pounding so hard in your chest it almost hurts, each beat loud in your ears. your hands are cold. your fingers tingle.
you can't think straight.
you can't process.
all you can feel is the echo of his words looping cruelly in your head.
hinderance.
should have thought twice.
you nod.
it's small, almost mechanical. your chin dipping once like your body is responding out of habit rather than understanding.
you don't look at him. you can't.
a hiccuped sob tears out of you, embarrassing and shaky, and you lift a trembling hand to wipe your face but it only smears the tears further.
"i—" your voice cracks badly. you swallow and try again. "i want to leave."
everyone goes still again.
"what?" jake's voice is immediate, panicked.
"i want to leave." you repeat, barely holding it together. "i just— i need some space. i need to breathe."
panic ripples through the room.
jake reaches for you instinctively, fingers wrapping around your arm. "what do you mean leave? you can't just—"
you gently pry his hand off, not harshly, just firm enough to break contact.
"please." you sob softly. "i just need space."
"noona, wait—" jungwon steps forward again, desperation flooding back into his voice.
but you don't let him finish.
you slip past them before anyone can react fast enough, your vision blurry with tears as you rush toward the front door. your hands shake as you shove your feet into your sneakers, not even bothering to tie them properly, heels barely pressed in.
someone calls out for you again, you're not even sure who.
the door swings open as the cool air of the building hallway hits your face.
and then you're gone.
the door closes behind you with a heavy click. the sound echoes and the living room feels enormous in your absence. the silence left behind is suffocating.
jungwon stands frozen where you left him, staring at the door like it might open again if he wills it hard enough. he feels like the air has been sucked out of the room entirely.
he can't breathe.
sunoo presses a hand to his mouth, eyes glossy. ni-ki runs a hand through his hair in frustration, pacing once before stopping. heeseung closes his eyes briefly, trying to steady himself. sunghoon looks toward the door, jaw tight, worry etched across his features. jake is still standing near where you pulled away from him, hand half-raised like he's replaying the moment.
jungwon swallows hard.
"i—" his voice breaks. he tries again. "i didn't— i didn't mean—"
"we know." heeseung says quietly, but it's strained.
jungwon's shoulders slump slightly.
he feels sick.
jay exhales sharply, running both hands over his face before looking around at everyone.
"okay." he says, voice firm despite the tension. "we all need to talk."
no one argues. because this isn't something that can be brushed off. this isn't a small fight that ends with takeaway food and awkward laughter.
you had walked out.
and jungwon stands there in the middle of the living room, staring at the closed door, feeling like he's just watched something precious slip through his fingers because he wanted to win an argument that suddenly doesn't matter at all.
.....
outside, the air hits you like a shock.
it's cold enough to bite, sharp against your damp cheeks, turning the trails of your tears icy as they keep falling. your lungs burn when you inhale too quickly, but you don't slow down. you just keep moving, sneakers slapping unevenly against the pavement, laces loose and heels barely secured.
you don't even know where you're going.
left. right. straight ahead. anywhere that isn't there.
the city is quieter at this hour, the hum of distant traffic blending into a low, constant murmur. your breaths come out in shaky puffs of white, dissolving into the night as fast as they form.
you don't stop running until your legs begin to ache and your chest feels tight for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold.
you turn a corner without thinking and find yourself near a small park you vaguely recognize. it's mostly empty, swings swaying faintly in the wind, leaves rustling along the pavement. a single streetlamp casts a pale yellow glow over a secluded stretch of footpath. you just walk toward it and your knees give out.
you slump down onto the curb beneath the streetlamp, the concrete unforgiving beneath you. you hug your arms around yourself automatically, shoulders shaking, and press the heels of your hands against your eyes as if you can physically force the tears to stop.
they don't.
each breath is uneven, hitching, breaking apart in your chest before you can steady it. your head feels heavy, thoughts muddled and tangled together.
hinderance.
maybe they should have thought twice.
you squeeze your eyes shut harder.
"stop." you whisper to yourself, voice trembling.
you know he didn't mean it. you know he was angry. you know he was hurting too.
but knowing doesn't erase the way it felt.
those words didn't just sting—they cut deep, right into the place you keep your quiet fears. the insecurities you rarely voice out loud. the small voice that sometimes wonders if you're enough, if you're pulling your weight, if you truly deserve to stand beside them.
another sob escapes you before you can swallow it down. you wipe at your face again, but your skin is already cold and sensitive from the constant tears.
you tilt your head back against the metal pole of the streetlamp, staring up at the pale halo of light above you. moths flutter lazily around it, unaware of the storm raging beneath.
your phone buzzes again in your trembling hands.
for a second, you almost ignore it.
but the screen lights up against the dim glow of the streetlamp, and through blurry vision you see the notifications stacked on top of each other. missed call after missed calls and messages after messages.
your throat tightens again.
before you can process it, another call comes in.
its jay.
you stare at his name for two full rings.
three.
four.
you inhale shakily and swipe to answer.
"h-hello…" the word barely makes it out, fragile and cracked.
on the other end, you immediately hear him exhale in relief.
"she answered." jay says quickly, voice turning away from the phone for a second. you can hear muffled movement in the background.
voices overlap faintly.
"is she okay?"
"give it to me—"
"where is she?"
jay comes back, and when he speaks again his tone is steady. but you can hear it—the worry tucked into every syllable.
"hey… you okay?"
you open your mouth and nothing comes out. your lips tremble instead. the wind rustles through the trees above you and your silence stretches too long.
jay exhales lowly.
"i'm sorry." he says quietly. "we should've stepped in earlier when it was getting heated. we shouldn't have let it escalate like that."
you don't have the energy to respond properly. you just hum faintly into the phone so he knows you're litening.
in the background, you hear ni-ki's voice—tense, a little sharp with anxiety.
"ask her where she is. did she say where she'd she go?"
jay clears his throat. "where are you right now?"
you press your sleeve to your nose and sniff, looking around as if the surroundings might answer for you. empty swings, leafless trees, and the lonely streetlamp buzzing faintly above you.
"in some park." you murmur, voice cracks in the end.
"okay." jay replies immediately. "that's okay. just stay there, alright? don't move. jungwon's already out looking for you."
you don't say anything.
jay sighs softly on the other end. "i talked to him. we all did."
you squeeze your eyes shut.
"you know he didn't mean that, right?" jay continues carefully. "it's not an excuse. he was upset and he didn't think before he spoke. but you know he would never actually believe those words."
your breathing wavers.
you sniff again and wipe at your cheeks again, though they're already dry from the cold air.
"…i know." you breathe.
there's a pause. and then jay's voice softens even more.
"we love you. all of us do. we're so proud to have you with us. none of us would ever wish for anything different."
your chest aches in a different way now.
"jungwon especially." he adds quietly.
you blink.
that catches you off guard.
"what…?"
jay lets out a small breath, almost like a half-laugh. "you don't see it because he's not obvious about it. but he cares about you the most when it comes to the group. he worries about you constantly. about whether you're okay, whether you're overworking, whether people treat you fairly. i mean, we all do, but no one does it more than that guy."
your heart twists. you didn't know that.
"he's probably panicking the hardest right now." he continues. "he's been blaming himself since you left."
you swallow.
the image of jungwon walking through the cold streets alone, eyes scanning every corner—
it hurts.
"let him know where you are." jay says gently. "okay? please. just text him the location. he'll come to you."
you nod faintly even though he can't see it.
"…okay."
there's another small pause.
"we love you." jay says again, firm this time.
your lips tremble.
"i love you guys too."
you mean it with your whole chest.
you hang up slowly, staring at your reflection in the dark screen for a second before lowering the phone to your lap.
the park is still quiet.
after a moment, you unlock your phone again. your thumb hovers over his contact for a second before you press send.
location shared.
no message. no explanation. just a blinking pin on a map that says here.
you lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket, the screen's faint glow disappearing, leaving you alone again under the streetlamp's pale halo.
the night feels quieter now.
fifteen minutes. that's what you probably have before he finds you. fifteen minutes to sit with everything.
you draw a slow breath, though it trembles on the way out. the cold doesn't feel as sharp anymore, or maybe your skin is just numb from crying. your mind starts replaying the past few days—the exhaustion, the tension, the tight schedules, the small misunderstandings that kept stacking on top of each other until they became too heavy.
it wasn't just tonight. it was everything.
you think about jungwon. the way he'd been quieter than usual these past few days. how he stayed back after practice to talk to staff. how he was the one fielding the harder questions. how he always made sure everyone else ate first before grabbing his own plate.
you weren't the leader... he was. jungwon had that title for a reason. he carries it like it's stitched into his skin.
he's strong. everyone says it, the fans say it, the members say it, even you say it.
but strong doesn't mean unbreakable.
and tonight, you hadn't helped.
you squeeze your hands together, remembering your own words—sharp, defensive, thrown out in hurt without filtering them. accusing him of not understanding you, of not caring enough.
you swallow, guilt slowly replacing the ache in your chest. you know that wasn't fair.
if anything, he prioritizes too much.
you think about the way he looks at everyone during interviews, subtly checking if they're okay. the way he steps in during awkward moments and when he absorbs stress so the rest of you don't have to feel it as heavily.
maybe it had just been too much lately.
maybe your words had been the final push when he was already teetering on the edge.
your chest tightens at the thought. you hadn’t meant to hurt him either.
but you did.
and he hurt you.
and now both of you are out in the same cold night, thinking about the same fight from opposite ends.
you tilt your head up, staring at the dark sky beyond the streetlamp's glow.
you both care for each other, and that's what made it hurt so much.
you inhale slowly, steadying yourself. he wasn't just a leader tonight. he was a boy who'd reached his limit. and you had reached yours.
maybe neither of you were villains in this story, maybe you were just tired.
you close your eyes. when he gets here, you won't yell. you'll listen.
and maybe… maybe you'll apologize first.
......
not too long after you sent your location, you're still sitting beneath the streetlamp, staring at nothing in particular, lost in your thoughts when you notice movement at the far edge of the park.
at first it's just a shadow shifting between trees. you blink, unsure if i'’s your imagination. but then the figure steps closer into the light spilling from the nearby street.
jungwon.
his pace is quick at first, almost frantic, head turning sharply from side to side as he scans the area. even from this distance, you can see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders are slightly raised, the way his steps are uneven, unsure but determined all at once. he looks like he's been running on adrenaline since leaving the dorm.
your heart reacts before your mind does.
he spins around once, searching further, and then suddenly freezes in place when his eyes land on you.
for a moment, neither of you moves. the distance between you feels both small and enormous at the same time, as though the park has stretched itself just to make this moment longer. his expression shifts when he confirms it's really you sitting there.
you take a slow breath, reaching up and gently wipe away the last traces of moisture clinging to your waterline. then after a second of hesitation, you lift your hand. small and uncertain. just a quiet wave in his direction.
that simple gesture seems to break whatever remaining stillness was holding him back.
jungwon exhales sharply, almost like he's been holding his breath the entire time he was searching. his shoulders drop, and something in his expression softens so visibly it makes your own throat tighten again.
he doesn't run. instead, he starts walking toward you slowly.
each step is deliberate and careful, like he's afraid that if he moves too fast you might disappear. his eyes stay locked on you the entire time, never leaving your face.
the space between you shrinks with every step he takes.
when jungwon is only a few feet away, his steps slow, uncertainty creeping back into his movements. the determination that carried him across the park gives way to something softer, more fragile, as though now that he's close enough to touch you, he's afraid of what that contact might mean.
he stops directly in front of you where you're still sitting on the curb beneath the streetlamp.
for a moment, neither of you speaks.
the silence isn't heavy anymore, but it's charged. there's a pulling sensation in your chest, the instinct to look away first, to break the intensity of it all. you can see it in him too, the same urge flickering behind his eyes.
but neither of you does.
and for the first time since the fight began, there's no anger left in the space between you. only exhaustion. only regret. only the quiet realization of how badly things spiraled.
after a few seconds that feel much longer, both of you inhale at the same time.
your mouths open simultaneously.
"i'm sorry." "i'm sorry"
the words fall out together, overlapping in the cold air.
you both stop and look at each other stunned.
then something shifts in jungwon's face, where the last remnants of restraint break entirely.
he surges forward suddenly, driven by emotion rather than thought. you barely have time to register the movement before you're pushing yourself up from the curb, standing just as he reaches you. and then he's firmly and desperately wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you flush against his chest and closing every inch of space between you.
apologies spill out rapidly, words tumbling over each other in a rush of regret. he buries his face into the side of your neck, his breath shaky against your skin as he holds you like he's afraid you might vanish if he loosens his grip.
you stand there for only a couple of seconds before something inside of you eases and then your lifting your arms lift slowly, hesitantly at first, before wrapping around his neck just as tightly. your fingers press into the fabric of his hoodie, anchoring yourself to him. you turn your face slightly and rest it against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him. and you realize he's shaking slightly, whether from the cold or emotion you can't tell.
his grip tightens when he feels you hug him back, as if that reassurance gives him permission to hold on.
the apologies don't stop. they're muffled against your skin, quieter, breaking apart with every breath.
the streetlamp above you hums softly.
tiny drops wetting your neck where jungwon's face is buried, warm against your cold skin. he lets out a small, broken whine, the sound muffled by your shoulder as his grip tightens instinctively, like he's trying to hold himself together through you.
his breathing is uneven.
and then the words come, tumbling out in a rush, no pride left to protect.
"i didn't mean what i said back there." he says, voice shaking, each sentence pressed into your neck. "it was fucked up of me. i would never—ever—tell you that you don’t belong with us."
his arms squeeze you closer.
"i let my frustrations get the best of me. i spoke without thinking. i'm a big, dumb idiot.”
there's no trace of the sharpness from earlier. only raw and unfiltered regret.
"but if you forgive me," he continues desperately, his fingers clutching the fabric at your back, "i swear i'll do better. not just as your leader, as your friend. please, noona. please. please forgive me."
the repetition breaks something in your chest.
you tighten your grip around him in response, one hand sliding higher along his back, the other pressing firmly into his shoulder. you shake your head where it rests against him, your voice coming out muffled but sincere.
"i'm sorry too."
he stills slightly, listening.
you swallow, throat aching. "you do so much for all of us. and in the end i called you bossy. i accused you of being like a robot. that wasn't fair."
your fingers curl into his hoodie.
"you have feelings too. you're not just our leader. i should've seen things from your perspective before speaking. i was hurt and i lashed out just as much."
your voice trembles, but you force yourself to keep going.
"what you said did hurt." you admit softly. "but i understand you were overwhelmed. and i'm sorry i didn't try harder to understand that sooner."
jungwon pulls back just enough to look at you, hands still firmly on your waist, like he needs to see your face to believe you're really here, really talking to him. his eyes are red from guilt.
"you're not a burden." he says quietly, almost urgently. "not to me, not to anyone."
you nod faintly.
"and you're not bossy." you add gently. "you're just trying to protect us."
he leans his forehead against yours.
the cold air surrounds you both, but where you're touching, everything feels warm.
"i was scared," he confesses in a whisper. "that if i don't hold everything together, it'll fall apart."
your thumbs move slowly against his back, grounding him.
"it won't." you murmur. "we're not that fragile, you don't have to carry things alone."
he closes his eyes briefly, breathing you in like it steadies him.
after a while, the tightness in the hug eases naturally, not because either of you wants to let go, but because you both understand that you're staying.
you sit back down on the curb together, shoulders brushing, close enough that your warmth seeps into each other through layers of fabric. the streetlamp above casts a soft golden glow over the two of you, turning the moment quieter and intimate. the night doesn't feel as cold anymore.
for a few seconds, you just breathe.
jungwon drags a hand over his face, wiping the last of his tears away, then lets out a shaky exhale that almost sounds like a tired laugh. you can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips in response. it feels strange how quickly things can shift—from shouting to silence, from hurt to understanding.
you both know each other well enough to understand that what was said tonight wasn't spoken from the heart. it was exhaustion, pressure and fear that were talking.
you pull your knees up slightly, wrapping your arms around them as you stare out at the empty park. "it's just been… a lot lately." you admit.
jungwon nods immediately, like he's been waiting for someone to say it out loud.
he tells you about the meetings that have been weighing on him. about the constant balancing act of being strong for everyone else while feeling like he's running low himself. about how he's been scared to admit he's struggling because he thinks a leader isn't supposed to.
you listen carefully, really listen without interrupting.
then you tell him your side.
how the schedule has been draining you more than you let on. how you've been overthinking small mistakes. how sometimes you feel like you have to prove yourself over and over again, even when no one is asking you to. how when he would correct you, it hit nerves you didn't realize were already raw.
"i thought you were disappointed in me." you confess quietly.
his head snaps toward you. "never."
"hmm. i know that now."
you both sit with that.
the realization that you had been misreading each other for days because neither of you slowed down enough to talk. small misunderstandings piling up silently until they exploded tonight.
"i think we were both just tired." he says after a moment, voice softer.
"yeah." you agree. "tired and stubborn."
he nudges your shoulder lightly with his.
you nudge back.
you talk about how things have been affecting everyone—the subtle irritability, the way jokes haven't landed as easily, the quietness at dinner. how all of you have been carrying your own pieces of stress but trying not to burden the others with them.
"we can't keep doing that." you say gently. "pretending we're fine until we snap."
jungwon nods slowly. "i don't want to either."
there's a pause. then he adds more quietly, "i don't want to hurt you like that again."
your chest warms at that. "you won't." you say with certainty. "and if you do by accident, we'll talk before it turns into this."
he smiles faintly at that, the kind of small, tired smile that feels more honest than anything flashy.
you lean your head lightly against his shoulder, and after a second, he lets his rest against yours.
the night feels calmer now.
just as the last of the tension melts into something lighter between you, your phone begins to ring again, the sudden vibration in your pocket breaking the quiet calm of the park.
you pull it out, glancing at the screen.
heeseung.
you and jungwon share a small look before you answer, putting the call on speaker. your voice is steadier now. "hello?"
there's immediate noise on the other end—familiar voices overlapping in the background before heeseung's cuts through clearly. he asks how the two of you are, if jungwon found you and if everything's okay now,.
you glance at jungwon, who's watching you carefully, almost nervously, as if he's waiting for confirmation from your side too.
you can't help the small smile that spreads across your face.
"we're fine." you say softly. "we talked it out. we're alright now."
you can practically hear the collective sigh of relief from the other end of the line. someone—probably sunoo—murmurs something about finally being able to breathe again. there's light teasing mixed with genuine concern, and it makes your chest feel warm.
heeseung tells you it's getting late and that he hopes you both come home soon.
"we will." you promise. "we're heading back now."
after a few more reassurances and a quiet "love you guys", you hang up.
you look up to see jungwon already looking at you.
there's a softness in his expression that wasn't there earlier. not the leader. not the one carrying the world on his shoulders.
just him.
he pushes himself up from the curb first, brushing his hands against his pants. then he turns to you and holds his hand out.
his fingers are slightly pink from the cold.
"come on noona." he says gently. "let's go home."
noona.
the word settles warmly in your chest.
you take his hand without hesitation this time.
his grip closes around yours firmly, steady and grounding as he helps you up from the curb. for a brief second, you're closer than necessary, and neither of you pulls away immediately.
hand in hand, you begin walking back together, steps falling naturally into sync.
the path home feels a little warmer than before.
you and sunoo were standing side by side, arms loosely crossed, staring down at the absolute disaster happening on the living room floor. a full-on dogpile of limbs and voices and chaos had taken over the space, with the rest of the members tangled together in a mess of kicking legs and flailing arms. you both wore identical frowns as you watched, like two exhausted observers witnessing something deeply unnecessary.
you didn't even remember how it had started, but you were pretty sure ni-ki had been bothering jake like usual, which somehow spiraled into jake retaliating, and then sunghoon and jay getting dragged in, and jungwon trying to be responsible for about three seconds before he too disappeared into the pile. now the floor was just a storm of hoodies and sneakers and loud arguing.
jungwon and jay had both tried to grab you and sunoo at least a few times, hands reaching out to pull you into the mess but the two of you had worked together seamlessly, dodging and weaving and pulling the other out of the way at just the right moments. now you both stood safely at the edge of the dogpile, untouched and unimpressed.
you saw someone get elbowed in the ribs and winced instinctively, your eyes flicking to sunoo. he met your gaze, his own face mirroring your concern and annoyance, and in that silent exchange you both came to the same decision.
"you wanna get out of here?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
you didn't even hesitate, already turning around and heading for the door. "god yes."
a few loud yells followed behind you, someone shouting your name, another one demanding you come back, but you and sunoo were already scrambling to pull on your shoes, hands clumsy with urgency as you tried to escape before anyone could drag you back into the pile. you laughed under your breath as you slipped them on, adrenaline buzzing in your veins, and then the two of you were rushing out of the dorm, free from the madness.
the two of you walked down the road side by side, the dorm building slowly shrinking behind you with every step. the air felt lighter out here, quieter, like you could finally breathe again without someone tackling you or yelling your name. the sky above was painted in soft shades of orange and pink as the sun began to set, casting everything in a warm, gentle glow that made the streets feel almost dreamy.
you and sunoo wandered without any real destination, stopping to peer into shop windows, pointing out cute clothes, weird displays, and anything that caught your eye. at one point, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and when you checked it, sunghoon's name lit up the screen.
"how dare you leave the dorm without telling me." he complained the second you picked up.
you didn't even blink before hanging up, slipping your phone back into your pocket like nothing happened. sunoo burst into laughter beside you, nearly doubling over as he covered his mouth.
not long after, the two of you stumbled upon a small, adorable shop filled with tiny trinkets and pastel-coloured decorations. it was impossible not to go in. inside, you found shelves lined with the cutest little things, and eventually you both ended up standing in front of a display of tiny kitty figures.
"we should get these." sunoo said immediately.
you ended up choosing one for him, a little cat with a mischievous smile that reminded you a little too much of him, while he picked one out for you, carefully comparing them like it was the most serious decision in the world. you both paid and left with your tiny treasures tucked safely away, smiling the whole time.
by the time the sun had dipped lower in the sky, your stomachs both began to growl in unison, making you look at each other and laugh.
"dinner?" sunoo suggested.
"dinner." you agreed.
the two of you made your way over to one of the restaurants you frequented together, pushing open the familiar doors and stepping inside. the warm smells of food immediately wrapped around you, making your hunger even worse.
both you and sunoo headed straight for your usual table, the one tucked away comfortably in the corner of the restaurant. it was far enough from prying eyes to feel private, but it still sat right by the window, giving you a clear view of the street outside where the last of the sunlight was fading into soft evening colors. it always felt like your little spot, a place that belonged just to the two of you.
you slid into the booth, sinking back against the cushioned seat with a small sigh of relief, while sunoo made himself comfortable across from you, already looking way too happy to be there. the waiter came by with a warm smile and handed you both your menus, and you thanked him before immediately starting to flip through the pages.
you and sunoo leaned in toward the table, quietly discussing what to get, pointing at different dishes and debating which ones would be the best to share. sunoo, as always, happily chose anything that looked especially delicious, eyes lighting up every time he spotted something new. you laughed at his enthusiasm, circling a few of your own picks as well.
you leaned back into your seat with a long, content sigh, letting yourself slouch comfortably into the booth like all the tension from the day had finally drained out of you. across from you, sunoo mirrored your posture almost perfectly, sinking down and stretching his legs out under the table.
he shot you a small, knowing smile. "tired already?"
you nodded lazily. "yeah, a little." you admitted, but your tone was happy. "but i had fun. we should definitely go back to that cute shop next time."
sunoo's eyes lit up immediately. "we should. and we have to get more matching things."
"anddd." you continued, leaning forward slightly as excitement crept back into your tone, "we should try that ice cream shop next door before heading home."
sunoo gasped lightly like you'd just suggested the best idea in the world. "oh my god yesss."
the two of you spent the next few minutes debating flavors and whether you should share or get separate cups, completely immersed in your little planning session. you were just about to lift your hand to call the waitress over when—
bang.
the loud noise against the window right beside your table made both you and sunoo jump in your seats. your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as your heads snapped toward the sound, eyes wide.
pressed dramatically against the glass were two very familiar faces.
jungwon and ni-ki stood outside, wrapped in their jackets, grinning like absolute menaces. ni-ki had his hand cupped around his face as if trying to peer in better, while jungwon waved enthusiastically.
"yoooo!" jungwon enthusiastically yelled through the glass.
you and sunoo both stared at them in disbelief, your expressions slowly shifting from shock to pure what the hell energy.
before you could even process how they'd found you, the two younger boys stepped away from the window and started heading toward the restaurant's front doors. just before moving fully out of sight, ni-ki leaned back toward the glass and tapped on it again loudly, clearly trying to scare you one more time.
this time, you didn't jump. you just slowly raised an eyebrow at him through the window, unimpressed.
sunoo sighed. "so much for a peaceful dinner."
the front door of the restaurant chimed loudly as jungwon and ni-ki stepped inside, bringing a small gust of cold evening air in with them. you could already hear them before you saw them properly, their voices carrying easily through the cozy hum of the restaurant as they made their way toward the back where you and sunoo were seated.
they were loud when they reached your table.
"found you!" ni-ki announced, like he had just completed some grand mission.
jungwon slid into the empty booth space smoothly next to you without hesitationbefore settling down like he belonged there all along. he shrugged off his jacket, clearly grateful for the warmth of the restaurant heaters, and draped it over his lap.
before you could even comment, he threw an arm around your shoulders and leaned into you comfortably, his side pressing against yours in an easy, familiar way.
"so." he said brightly, glancing between you and sunoo, "what are we ordering?"
you snorted at his audacity, instinctively leaning into him as well, your shoulder resting against his. "me and sunoo were just thinking of getting some hot pot." you replied.
"ahhh." jungwon hummed dramatically, nodding like he was deeply impressed. "what a wonderful choice for the four of us."
you burst out laughing at that, already knowing you weren't going to get rid of them.. across the table, sunoo narrowed his eyes at ni-ki, who had unceremoniously dumped himself into the booth beside sunoo, sliding in with zero regard for personal space, much to sunoo's immediate and visible dismay. his long legs stretched out under the table, his shoulders deliberately widening as he leaned back like he was trying to occupy every inch of the seat.
sunoo gasped in offense. "ya! the audacity— move over, riki!!
ni-ki only sank further into the booth, sprawling dramatically and pretending to get even more comfortable. "nawww, lemme be comfortable man." he replied lazily, throwing an arm across the backrest behind sunoo like he owned the place.
sunoo immediately started pushing at him, trying to shove his lanky body away. "you're literally on top of me!"
"i'm not." ni-ki argued, even though he very clearly was.
jungwon snickered beside you, his arm still around your shoulders as he watched the chaos unfold across the table. you sighed, already sensing where this was heading if you didn't intervene soon. sunoo's whining was steadily increasing in pitch, and ni-ki was absolutely not helping.
before sunoo could decide that the only solution was to drag the rest of the members here and turn this into a full seven-member dinner, you quickly lifted your hand to call the waitress over.
she approached with a polite smile, though her eyes flickered briefly to the bickering boys across from you.
"we're ready to order." you said, trying to sound composed while sunoo hissed at the youngest to move.
the four of you settled down properly after that, the chaos slowly simmering into something more manageable as the kind waitress took your order. one by one, you all listed the drinks you wanted, occasionally talking over each other until you shushed them lightly. in the end, you decided to share a moderately sized hotpot among the four of you, something warm and comforting to chase away the slow creeping winter outside.
the waitress nodded kindly, scribbling everything down with practiced ease. "i'll bring it out as fast as i can." she assured you.
you all thanked her in unison, voices overlapping in a messy but polite chorus as she disappeared back toward the kitchen.
once she was gone, you leaned back into the booth and turned toward the two newcomers, narrowing your eyes slightly. "what even are you two doing here?" you asked out loud, directing the question mostly at jungwon as you shifted to face him better. "and even better question, how'd you know we were here?"
jungwon didn’t answer immediately. instead, he gave you a knowing smile that made you instantly suspicious. he reached up and started playing with your hair, twirling a strand around his fingers before giving it the gentlest tug, just enough to tease but not enough to hurt.
"c'monnnn noona." he said, tilting his head with that soft, mischievous smile of his. he placed his elbow on the table and rested his cheek against his palm, eyes never leaving yours. "i'll always know where ya wander off to~."
you sighed at his words, shaking your head even though a smile had already found its way onto your lips. it was such a typically weird, oddly endearing jungwon thing to say, half joking, half serious in a way you could never quite decipher.
across the table, ni-ki made a gagging noise while sunoo rolled his eyes dramatically, but you just nudged jungwon lightly with your shoulder.
"you're so weird." you muttered fondly.
he only smiled wider.
sunoo let out a long, dramatic sigh before finally giving up, his resistance visibly dissolving as he allowed ni-ki to do whatever he wanted. he settled back against the arm ni-ki had thrown around him, looking mildly inconvenienced but no longer fighting it.
"when'd you guys leave that dogpile you were making at home anyways?" sunoo asked, glancing lazily at the two younger boys.
"not that long after you and noona left." ni-ki replied easily. "the other hyungs brought up dare or dare, and then we decided that we value our lives and don't plan on embarrassing ourselves any sooner."
you physically cringed at that, shoulders scrunching up. honestly, it was your fault for suggesting dare or dare in the first place. a dumb, manic version of truth or dare where there was no safe option, only increasingly ridiculous dares that the older boys had immediately taken an insane liking to.
your fans wouldn't even begin to imagine the wildest things their biases could come up with under that game.
"don't remind me." you muttered, covering your face briefly with your hands. "i created a bunch of monsters for ever suggesting such a game."
right then, the restaurant waitress returned, carefully placing your drinks and the hotpot setup down on the table. steam curled up into the air almost immediately, carrying the rich, mouthwatering scent of broth and spices with it.
all four of you thanked her eagerly, practically leaning forward as she finished arranging everything. the moment she stepped away, you all dug in without hesitation, your mouths already watering at the sight of the amazing food.
the warmth of the steam hit your face as you reached for your chopsticks, and just like that the air between you four was replaced by laughter, teasing, and the comforting clatter of dishes shared between you all.
as you all eat, conversation flows as easily as the steam rising from the hotpot between you. the clatter of chopsticks against bowls mixes with laughter, overlapping voices, and the occasional dramatic complaint about someone stealing the last piece of meat.
ni-ki keeps reaching across the pot without warning, nearly knocking jungwon's drink over at one point, and sunoo immediately slaps his hand away with a sharp "yah". only for ni-ki to grin and do it again two seconds later. jungwon, ever the instigator in disguise, quietly slides a piece of tofu from sunoo's bowl to yours when sunoo isn't looking, then pretends to be innocent when sunoo notices.
"who took it?" sunoo demands, eyes narrowing.
you try to keep a straight face but fail miserably, your laughter giving everything away.
"betrayal." sunoo mutters dramatically, pointing his chopsticks at you like you've committed the greatest crime.
you lean back in your seat, laughing openly now, warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the bubbling broth in front of you. jungwon's shoulder brushes against yours again as he reaches forward for more vegetables, and ni-ki nudges your foot under the table just to annoy you.
"eat more noona." ni-ki says suddenly, pushing a slice of meat into your bowl without looking at you directly. "you're not eating as much nowadays."
you blink at him for a second before rolling your eyes, though you don't push it back.
"you acting like my parent now? i thought that was my role over you." you tease.
"i'm not." he replies. "i'm just your favorite."
sunoo gasps in mock offense. "excuse me?"
jungwon hums thoughtfully. "that title is clearly mine."
you watch them argue over something so ridiculous, your laughter softening into a quiet smile as you take another bite. the conversation never stops, jumping from practice stories to dorm mayhem to plans for dessert next door.
and somewhere between the teasing and the stolen bites and the way jungwon absentmindedly refills your drink before his own, you realize that this is what you love most.
just this.
just them.
just the four of you squeezed into a corner booth, sharing food and warmth while winter settles quietly outside the window.
at one point, you grow quiet.
your chopsticks slow, your chewing softer as your eyes drift from your bowl to the three of them. you watch jungwon animatedly explaining something with his hands, ni-ki interrupting him halfway through just to argue about a detail that doesn't even matter, and sunoo reacting to both of them like he's the only sane one at the table.
they nudge each other. they laugh too loudly. ni-ki steals from sunoo's bowl again. jungwon steals it back. and you just sit there for a moment, taking it in. the way they look so comfortable, so safe.
you can't help the small smile that forms on your lips.
you don't even realize you've been staring until jungwon glances at you. "why are you looking at us like that?" he asks suspiciously.
you blink, caught, and look down at your bowl for half a second before looking back up. "i'm just… glad you guys are in my life."
the words slip out naturally, softer than the noise around you.
and just like that, the table goes quiet.
sunoo pauses mid-bite. ni-ki freezes with his chopsticks hovering in the air. jungwon's expression shifts into something unreadable for a split second.
then, almost immediately—
"wow." ni-ki says, leaning back dramatically. "why are you being so sentimental?"
"did you hit your head earlier?" sunoo adds, narrowing his eyes playfully.
jungwon nudges your shoulder lightly. "so i am noona's favourite huh?"
you roll your eyes, cheeks warming despite yourself. "forget i said anything."
but even as they tease you, you feel it. under the table, ni-ki's foot bumps gently against yours, not playful this time but grounding. sunoo nudges your knee with his own, subtle and warm, and jungwon's hand squeezes your shoulder briefly before dropping back to the table.
"we're glad you're in our lives too." jungwon says casually, like it's nothing, but his tone is honest.
"yeah." sunoo adds, looking at you with a small, shy smile he tries to hide by reaching for his drink.
ni-ki shrugs like it's clear. "obviously."
they don't make a big show of it. they don't get overly emotional. but you can feel it in the way they look at you, in the way they sit just a little closer.
your smile widens, heart feeling impossibly full as the noise and teasing slowly resume around you.
and you think, maybe being their noona isn't just about appreciating them.
maybe it's about being appreciated too.
after an amazing and unexpectedly heartfelt meal together, the four of you bundled back into your jackets and stepped outside into the cool city air. the warmth from the restaurant clung to you for only a few seconds before the winter chill wrapped around your noses and fingertips, making all of you instinctively huddle a little closer together.
despite the cold, each of the boys were happily holding a cup of ice cream, courtesy of you. and it was absolutely not because ni-ki had dramatically threatened to scream his lungs out like a neglected child in the middle of the street if you didn't treat them. absolutely not.
"best noona ever." he had declared smugly the second he got his cup.
"manipulative." you had muttered under your breath, though you were smiling anyway.
now you stood under a glowing street lamp, its warm light casting a golden halo over the four of you as you gathered close together for warmth. you had come up a few coins short for your own cup, but the boys had immediately insisted you just share theirs. so there you were, leaning in every now and then to steal a bite from jungwon's spoon, or sunoo's, or even ni-ki's when he wasn't looking.
the air puffed out in little clouds when you laughed, your shoulders brushing, your arms occasionally bumping as you all tried to fit into the small circle of warmth you created yourselves.
you watched them quietly for a moment.
sunoo's cheeks were puffed slightly as he took a big bite. jungwon was blinking slowly, savoring his like he was at some five-star dessert place instead of on the side of the road. and ni-ki pretended to be cool about it but was very clearly enjoying every single spoonful.
their cheeks were slightly pink from the cold, hair tousled by the wind, eyes bright under the streetlight.
they looked so cute it physically hurt.
you felt that fondness rise in your chest again, filling you up until you thought you might actually burst. you wished, fleetingly, that you could freeze this exact moment forever. you wished you could take a picture of them right now, just like this.
ni-ki was standing on your right, lazily eating his ice cream, when he suddenly blinked in surprise.
because you had reached up and gently cupped his cheek.
his skin was cold from the air, but warm beneath your palm, and you stroked your thumb softly over the roundness of it, unable to stop yourself.
"look at you." you cooed, voice syrupy and fond. "my baby's grown so much. you look so cute eating your ice cream."
ni-ki froze and his ears turned red and then his cheeks. he coughed awkwardly, nearly choking on his ice cream. "i'm a grown-ass man." he muttered, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as he avoided your eyes.
you shook your head immediately. "nope. you're my baby."
jungwon and sunoo both gasped dramatically.
"nonnaaa," sunoo whined, leaning into your other side. "what about ussss?"
"yeah," jungwon added, pretending to pout. "are we not your babies too?"
you burst out laughing at the sight of all three of them suddenly competing for your affection, their tall frames bending slightly toward you as if trying to fit under your attention.
"come here~" you laughed, voice overflowing with happiness.
you stretched your arms out and pulled them into as tight of a hug as your smaller frame could manage. it was messy and unbalanced and half of ni-ki's ice cream almost tipped over, but none of you cared. their arms came around you almost immediately, warm and solid and protective in a way that made your heart ache.
their laughter mixed together, blending into one sound that felt like home. you kept cooing at them shamelessly, calling them your precious angels, your babies, your boys, ignoring their embarrassed protests.
"this is nice." jungwon laughed softly into your hair.
"this is so cringe." ni-ki mumbled, though he didn't pull away.
sunoo tightened his arms around you just a little more.
standing there under the street lamp, surrounded by cold air and warm bodies and melting ice cream, you realized something.
being their noona was a rollercoaster.
it was loud and exhausting and chaotic. it meant dogpiles and teasing and migraines and being bullied out of your own peaceful dinners. it meant worrying about them and scolding them and sometimes feeling like you had three oversized children attached to your hip.
but it also meant this.
it meant warm shoulders and shared desserts. it meant quiet reassurance in practice rooms and loud laughter in restaurants. it meant being looked at like you mattered, like you were theirs just as much as they were yours.
and honestly?
you think you won at life by being so.
author's note: ya this took way too long to come out OOP. sigh i love the maknae line sm. i had different plots but i couldnt do them cuz of the writing limit (no thanks to tumblr haish) so i'll save them for another time. kinda wish i wrote this better but i was limited with time. thank you all for being so patient with me. also ngl when i wrote in the last author note that i would write about some 'big fight' i may or may not have half hearted just thrown that out without thinking much and then a lot of u guys became excited for it and then i was like omg how and where am i gonna fit that in XD so i just threw it in here with wonnie hope that's alright TT also this i am going to be on an hiatus from writing until further notice, just until im done with exams, but i'll still be lingering on tumblr and my ask box is always open :)
thank you for reading! reblog, like and comment if you liked this!
i thought you posted a new part of the 8th member series…turns out you were just reblogging your old works ☹️ i miss you angel please take your time if you’re in the middle of writing it 🫶🏼
omg im so sorryyyy 😅 actually there is one in the drafts, updates on that r superrrr random and then im caught between working on that vs the other oneshots i have. hopefully i can get it out soon tho by next week or smthng. lets see :P
miss ya too nanda hope u've been enjoying urself post exams! 💕💕
HIII OKAY SO FIRST OFF I LOVE YOUR WRITING I KNOW YOU SAID YOU DONT DO REQUEST BUT THIS IS UP TO YOU... The ehypen boys watcing the new horror movie OBSESSED with reader..?? YOU DONT HAVE TO I JUST THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUNNY OKAY TY AND BYE 🤠
HI CUTIEEE YA I DONT DO REQUESTS AND LMAO IM PROLLY STILL ONE OF THE FEW PPL WHO HAVENT WATCHED OBSESSED BAHAHAHA
but bet their reactions to the movie would be so funny XD
"i swear to god if one of you boys draw a dookie on my cast."
"aww man come on!"
w.c.: 3.2k
themes: no warnings, sfw, humor, reader injured her leg, reader is enha's 8th female member, enha boys being worried/looking after you, they don't like seeing you in pain (but still have the audacity to laugh at you), the boys can be in any age range you want but just imagine you're around the same age as the jaykehoon trio.
note: this is just a fic! im not making injuries seem like they're a joke or anything, this was just something i did lightheartedly. my apologies if anyone gets offended or thinks im making light of any kind of injuries (im not!!). absolutely NO plagiarizing my work. masterlist.
you had managed to break your leg in what you liked to call a "heroic tumble", though the members were less impressed with the heroics and more impressed with the noise you made when you hit the floor when it had happened.
so apparently, breaking a leg is not just painful—it's a full-on reality show when you live with enhypen. you thought the hardest part would be figuring out how to hobble around without looking like a newborn giraffe, but no. the real challenge is surviving the next week with sunghoon, jake, and jay hovering like overly concerned drones.
sunghoon arrived first, and he didn't even knock. just barged in like a storm cloud with a bag of groceries. apparently, he had read somewhere that broken legs need "nutritional support," so he was armed with fruit, protein bars, electrolyte drinks, and… a single banana he claimed "was extra important." he didn't even ask if you were hungry, just shoved the banana into your hands and said, "eat this. immediately."
you tried to protest, saying you weren't that hungry, but he gave you that look, the one that makes you feel like you're personally failing as a human being. the kind of look that says, "if you don't eat this banana, i will consider it a personal betrayal." so naturally, you ate it. and yes, it was kind of good. but the real issue wasn't the banana. it was sunghoon himself.
he's decided that resting your leg doesn't just mean laying down. no, it's a full-service operation. he rearranged the couch, stacked pillows like some kind of orthopedic engineer, and made sure the blanket was "evenly distributed for optimal circulation." then he hovered while you tried to watch tv, muttering things like, "don't stretch your leg like that", "don't bend it too much" and "do you even know how dangerous that is?"
and yes, you know your leg is broken. but sunghoon acts like if you so much as sneeze the wrong way, your going to instantly need surgery again. you started thinking if you should just carry a helmet and elbow pads around the apartment.
jake, on the other hand, is… different. he's the opposite of sunghoon, which is both a relief and a nightmare. he doesn't hover in the same "i'll personally nurse you to health" way. instead, he's subtle but somehow even more terrifying. he keeps popping up where you least expect him, quietly holding snacks or his phone with a perfectly timed video ready to distract you from the pain.
the problem is jake has this ridiculous idea that the best way to cheer you up is to bombarding you with 'motivational' content. first it was dog videos, then clips of people falling over and getting back up (he said it’s 'symbolically inspiring'), then something about a goat playing the piano. he's really committed to this whole "make her laugh so she forget she’s injured” thing, which is sweet, except your leg isn't laughing, and now your stomach hurts from laughing too hard.
he also has a habit of making small bets with sunghoon over how long you can hobble from the couch to the fridge without yelling. apparently, they're taking notes. you don't even want to know what they're planning to do with these notes.
and then there's jay. jay is… well. he showed up an hour after sunghoon and jake started their 'operation save her from her leg' thing, and immediately asked why you weren't at practice. you reminded him, very patiently, that your leg is literally broken. he blinked and looked at your crutches.
"oh yeah."
he didn't actually help, at least not in a conventional sense. instead, he decided the best way to help you heal was to make you laugh until you forgot your leg was broken. he kept throwing random things at you(soft things, thankfully—sunghoon was having a mild panic attack by the fourth toss), doing ridiculous voices, and narrating your hobbling around the living room like you were starring in a slow-motion action movie. apparently, jay has been secretly auditioning for some role called 'the most dramatic injured human ever,' and you are the unwitting lead.
the situation reached its peak when sunghoon tried to organize a 'leg safety drill' in the living room. jake filmed it (you're assuming for evidence or blackmail), and jay insisted on being the instructor. sunghoon was so serious about measuring angles and making sure you moved 'correctly,' while jay was over here rolling on the floor laughing, screaming, "you missed your dramatic entrance, redo it!"
you almost fell off the couch from laughing, but sunghoon caught you mid-fall like some sort of highly alert ninja and gave you the most disappointed glare of your life.
and all three of them, in their own way, are absolutely relentless. sunghoon won't let you touch the microwave, the fridge, or anything that requires bending. jake will keep sneaking snacks and videos until you're laughing so hard your leg cramps. jay will insist on commentary for everything you do, as even sitting on the couch counts as a "critical performance moment."
so there you sat, leg elevated, surrounded by three very intense and loving idiots. you think this is what it must feel like to be both cherished and mildly terrorized at the same time. it’s exhausting, but in the best way, and you can't tell if i'll survive the week or collapse into laughter from the videos that jake shows you. probably both.
at least one thing is certain. even broken, you've never felt more taken care of or more hilariously controlled by a group of overenthusiastic boys. if the leg ever heals fully, you're still going to need physical therapy… for your sanity.
after surviving sunghoon, jake, and jay, you think you're ready for a quiet recovery.
haha, nope. that was before heeseung and sunoo decided to grace you with their presence, and now your life has officially become a sitcom.
heeseung shows up first, walking in like he's just casually stopping by to borrow sugar. except, of course, he's not borrowing sugar. he's here to check your leg, which apparently requires full-on medical precision. he has this whole routine where he circles your leg like a hawk, taps it lightly, squints dramatically, and mutters things that sound suspiciously like made-up medical jargon.
"hmm… seems stable… but is it optimal?" he asks, and you're just supposed to nod because how do you argue with someone who sounds like they just read half a medical textbook and half a fantasy novel?
then heeseung decides that the living room lighting is suboptimal for proper leg inspection. suddenly, he's moving lamps, squinting, taking your temperature with his hands and saying, "you might not feel it, but precision is everything."
meanwhile, your leg is literally in a cast.
heeseung also insists on a "rehabilitation schedule." which is code for: every fifteen minutes, you have to wiggle your toes and report back like you're auditioning for some sort of orthopedic talent show. heeseung takes notes, frowns if your toe wiggle isn't dramatic enough, and makes you promise to "perform at full capacity" at all times. you're not sure if this is healing or if you're suddenly starring in a weird heeseung-directed netflix series about broken legs.
then sunoo shows up, and oh, sunoo. sunoo is glitter and puppy eyes. he doesn't check your leg so much as he immediately turns your living room into a mini amusement park. he drags pillows onto the floor to make what he calls a "safe landing zone," throws a blanket over the couch like it's a hammock, and keeps asking if you want a snack, juice, or a random object that he swears will "heal your soul."
heeseung is glaring because obviously there's a method to recovery, but sunoo could not care less. he is now sitting on the floor, legs crossed, holding a juice box, and offering moral support with a seriousness that would be endearing if it weren't also completely ridiculous.
"here noona." sunoo says, thrusting the juice box into your hand. "this will give your leg maximum energy. trust me, i read it somewhere."
you take it because what else can you do.
then heeseung decides that sunoo's methods are unacceptable. he gives sunoo a 'stern talking-to,' which lasts about thirty seconds before sunoo nods, smiles innocently, and immediately trips over your crutches, sending himself rolling into the safe landing zone pillows.
heeseung groans so loudly that you swear you can feel it in your leg, but sunoo just pops up and grins. "see? safety measures work." he says proudly.
heeseung tries to regain control by setting up a strict monitoring station which involves him sitting on the edge of the couch with a notebook, a timer, and a laser-focus stare directed at your leg.
sunoo, naturally, decides this is a perfect opportunity to test your reflexes, bouncing balls off the walls, attempting to get you to catch them while staying off your injured leg. heeseung nearly combusts when one ball bounces dangerously close to your cast, and sunoo just laughs, which makes you laugh, which makes your leg cramp a little, which gives heeseung a heart attack.
oh, and they also decide you need a 'healing playlist.' heeseung picks calm classical music because apparently sound therapy is crucial. sunoo immediately switches to pop bops, sings along loudly, and tries to get you to join in. it's hard to argue with sunoo when he's making dramatic hand gestures at your leg like it's a co-star in a musical.
by the time they leave—temporarily, because you know they'll be back in five minutes with more snacks or more advice—your leg feels a little better, mostly because of the laughter and mayhem rather than any real medical intervention. you're not sure if they're helping or just making recovery an extreme sport, but one thing's for sure, you will never look at a broken leg the same way again.
and you're fairly certain that if this keeps up, your living room will need its own health and safety inspection before you can even attempt hobbling around again.
ni-ki walks in without a hello. he just stands there in front of you blocking the tv, eyebrows already raised, shaking his head like a disappointed father despite being the youngest in the entire group.
"so." he starts, crossing his arms, "you really broke your leg because you ignored the ‘be careful, wet floor’ sign?"
you try to defend yourself. maybe the sign wasn't placed properly. maybe it was too small. maybe your eyes were tired—
but ni-ki cuts you off with a laugh so loud and dramatic it echoes off every wall in the apartment.
"no, no, no." he says, pointing at you like a teacher calling out a student, "don't you dare blame the sign. the sign was neon yellow. neon. you know how bright neon yellow is? how did you not see that? were you studying the ceiling? checking for ghosts??"
you want to throw something at him, but your options are limited because you're immobilized at the center of the couch like a stranded sea creature. ni-ki senses your weakness, which makes him even bolder.
"guys." he announces loudly to absolutely no one, "we've discovered the first person in history to lose a fight against a caution sign."
you swear you can hear jake cackling from another room without even being physically present.
then ni-ki walks over, leans down to eye-level with you, and whispers dramatically, "when knee surgery is tomorrow… but the wet floor sign wins today."
you smack his arm with the nearest pillow, which only fuels him. he collapses onto the couch next to you, laughing so hard he might actually need "leg safety pillows from sunoo soon."
"no really." he says between giggles, "i knew you were weird but falling because you weren't paying attention? even jungwon didn't do that and he's clumsy."
and speak of the leader.
jungwon walks up and steps closer to you like a worried mother who finally tracked down her reckless child. he looks at ni-ki, then at you, then at your leg, then at the pillow you threw, and his whole face becomes the physical embodiment of 'i'm too young for this stress.'
"are you okay?" he asks immediately, eyes widening in that soft, sincere way that makes you feel taken care of and mildly guilty at the same time. "does it hurt? should you be elevating it higher? did you take your medication? do you need water? do you need ice? do you need anything?"
he exhales like he just ran a marathon. you nod and give him a little thumbs up.
he nods back, relieved and looks at your cast. then, despite his efforts to stay serious, his mouth twitches.
"but seriously noona?" he grins, trying to hold back a laugh. "you couldn't just… walk around the wet floor?"
you glared at him, offended on a spiritual level. jungwon immediately panics and waves his hands.
"i mean, i'm sure you had a reason! you're usually very... uh... observant! it happens to everyone!"
"no it doesn't." ni-ki says, leaning back smugly. "only to her."
jungwon glares at him like the responsible leader he is, but ni-ki just shrugs because he fears nothing and no one.
jungwon eventually sits beside you and gently adjusts your leg on the pillow tower, making sure your cast is perfectly positioned. he's so careful it almost makes up for the laugh he tried (and failed) to hide.
"seriously though." he says softly. "you need to be more careful. i don't want you getting hurt again" he pats your head… then adds quietly, "especially not because of a sign."
"JUNGWON." you groan.
ni-ki snorts so hard he almost falls off the couch.
jungwon tries to regain his serious-leader composure, but every time he looks at your leg he starts smiling again like he's watching a comedy skit he shouldn't be laughing at.
ni-ki's no help either. he spends the next ten minutes reenacting the moment of your fall, fake grabbing his leg and even throwing himself onto a pillow pile like he's auditioning for an action movie gone wrong.
jungwon tries to maintain discipline but eventually gives in and starts laughing too, which makes ni-ki go even harder with the reenactment.
at one point, he hands you a fake warning sign he made out of a sticky note and a pen. written on it in huge letters:
"BE CAREFUL OF LIVING"
jungwon takes it away and gives ni-ki a half-serious lecture about being supportive, but you saw him trying to hide his smile while he did so.
eventually both of them settle down, jungwon sitting next to you, quietly checking your leg once more, and ni-ki on the floor, scrolling through his phone, occasionally glancing up just to say something like "don't fall off the couch, okay? i don't think the couch has a warning sign."
you throw another pillow at him.
sunghoon is the first to speak, holding a handful of colorful markers like he's about to perform surgery. "we're decorating your cast." he announces, like it's a royal decree. "it'll help your healing."
"help your healing." jay repeats mockingly, but he still grabs a marker too, because apparently peer pressure applies at all ages.
you're about to refuse, but then ni-ki plops down next to your leg like a gremlin and says, "don't worry, i'll make mine pretty. it'll say 'watch your step next time.'"
"NO." you argue, but it's too late. he's already uncapping the marker with the kind of determination that suggests cruelty is coming.
heeseung takes control like a teacher trying to organize arts and crafts time. he claps his hands. "okay everyone, one at a time. no drawing insults larger than three centimeters. ni-ki, i'm looking at you."
ni-ki pretends to be offended. "i'm an artist. i draw with emotion."
"you draw emotional damage." sunghoon mutters, pulling your leg slightly closer to him like he's shielding it from danger.
sunoo is the first one to actually start drawing. he announces that he's going to make "something aesthetic", which so far looks like a flower… or maybe a sun… or maybe a blob with confidence. he leans over your leg, tongue poking out in concentration. "don't move." he says, like you can even run away at this point.
jake decides to draw a tiny smiley face. simple and innocent.
until he adds another one. and another. and another.
you look down and there are suddenly 32 smiling faces staring at you from the corner of your cast like they're planning something.
jay takes the cast like it's a blank canvas waiting for greatness. "i'm drawing a dragon." he says proudly.
he draws something that looks suspiciously like a worm with asthma.
jungwon, sitting primly at your feet like the responsible leader he is, gently pushes jay aside. "hyung maybe we should draw things that don't scare children."
"that dragon is majestic!"
"that dragon needs plastic surgery." jake says.
meanwhile, ni-ki finishes his masterpiece. he leans back with pride and reveals the words: "wet floor 1 — y/n 0."
you swear to strangle him in his sleep once your healed.
"but it's accurate!"
sunghoon finally starts drawing, which should be normal, but he draws a whole safety guide on your cast. arrows. instructions. 'DON'T SLIP' written in bold. a stick figure demonstrating Good Walking Form. he even gives the stick figure a helmet.
you're not sure if you’re offended or touched.
heeseung draws a surprisingly good doodle of all the members as tiny little figures around your cast. it's cute until you notice that yours is lying on the ground with a leg cast and Xs for eyes.
"oppa..."
"art imitates life." he replies.
jungwon writes something sweet near your knee: 'get well soon! please be careful!!' but then ni-ki leans over and adds in tiny letters underneath: "she won't."
sunoo decides the cast needs sparkle. "we should bedazzle it." he says.
everyone screams "NO" at the same time.
they continue drawing anyway. insults, flowers, hearts, a very questionable animal that jay insists is a horse, and ni-ki adding arrows pointing to your cast that say things like 'broken bc she doesn't listen' and 'danger zone.'
"oh my god you guys I GET IT—"
no one's listening.
jake writes 'we love you!' in the tiniest handwriting possible… then draws a huge dog paw print next to it.
jay draws sunglasses on sunghoon's stick figure version of you, saying, "she's cool even when injured."
heeseung draws a speech bubble next to your stick figure that says: 'i didn't see the sign.'
ni-ki draws the sign. it is three times bigger than your stick figure.
insulting.
the cast ends up looking like a scrapbook, a warning poster, and a crime scene all at once.
finally, all seven step back to admire their work. they're so proud. it's actually kind of adorable, in a please-never-let-them-near-medical-equipment way.
jungwon pats your shoulder gently. "it looks cute." he says.
sunoo takes a picture for memories.
jay nods proudly. "it's a masterpiece."
ni-ki stares at his contribution and grins. "this is history."
and honestly… they're right. you look down at your chaotic, colorful, emotionally confusing cast and realize that while you may have indeed broken your leg… you gained the world's funniest, dumbest, most loving piece of art to heal with.
...
"when knee surgery is tomorrow—"
"ni-ki i swear to god if you say that meme one more time."
author's note: hehe. check out my masterlist to see more of f!member!reader ♡
๋࣭˖˚⋆ when they won't stop barging into your room ‧₊˚࿐*
ot7!enha x 8th f!member reader
"can you all please get out."
"no."
"but-"
"no."
w.c: 4.1k
themes: no warnings, ot7 being obsessed with you, you just want some time alone man, reader is enha's 8th female member, the boys can be in any age range you want but just imagine you're around the same age as the jaykehoon trio, teasing, play fights, lego building, sunghoon spills food on your bed, overall chaos, you love your boys, this is practically a typical day for you. [wrote this in mind with he fact that enhypen are separated into 2 floors for there dorm based off of that one video where they showed their dorms]
note: check out my other works! (masterlist). absolutely NO plagiarizing my work.
[11:16am]
no knock, no 'hello excuse me how are you may i come in', nothing. instead, niki just waltzes in like he owns your room.
it was the weekend. and so far, the only members you had bumped into were the ones you shared a floor with, those being sunoo, jake and jungwon. sunghoon had came earlier today but you had kicked him out after he accidentally spilled tiramisu on your bedsheets (after he himself had barged into your room).
you were lying peacefully in your bed, covers up till your chin, watching the latest en-o'clock episode that had been released on your tablet when the youngest member decided that he just had to urgently see you for some set reason.
"wrestle me." is all you heard him blurt out, your bedroom door slamming against the wall, startling you as he strolls in, sleeves of his big ass hoodie rolled up to his biceps and a set look on his face.
you turned your head to give niki a surprised look.
"wha-"
you couldn't even finish your sentence because the boy just made his way closer to your laying figure and just starts punching the air above you.
"i've been watching wwe videos on youtube." he says, jumping on the spot. "i think i can pull of some moves. lemme flip you over."
you did a double take. "excuse me?? no. you're not flipping me in any way shape or form! why're you coming to me of all people?!"
niki stopped punching the space around you and shrugged, looking down at you from his looming figure as he stood above you. "i tried asking the hyungs on my floor, but they all locked their doors on me."
you had to raise a hand to place on his chest because he started leaning in closer. "i'm about to do the exact same if you don't move back niki."
he had the audacity to frown at you. "come onnnnnn noona." he whined, the corner of his lips lifting when he placed one knee on your bed and a look of fear makes its way on your face as you tried to shuffle back. "you don't wrestle with me anymore like you used toooo."
tablet thrown to the side and both hands up in a week attempt to defend yourself, you squeaked out with wide eyes. "yeah, when you were younger and not working out like crazy!"
the playful look in niki's eyes didn't deter, smile only growing as he tackles you in a blur of reflexes, his laughter getting mixed with your screams.
he flung your blanket off of you and his arms wrapped around your middle, tugging you back into his chest as you tried to scramble away from him.
"just lemme do this one trick!" he yelled.
you growled, affectively escaping his grip and standing up on your bed to look down at him. "your one trick is gonna end up being like ten!" you pointed an accusing finger at him. "also, i think you sometimes forget i'm a girl. i can't handle the roughhousing as well as the others!"
niki's grin widened and he shook his head, standing up on your mattress as well, your bed creaking. "naaa. it's more fun with you." he teased.
he reached out his arms but you lifted yours as well, clasping his hands as you both fought for dominance, trying to knock the other down. before niki could think of his next move, you suddenly struck out your foot and kicked his leg.
but niki was faster and better at this type of stuff. obviously. so before he went down he grabbed the front of your sweater and pulled you closer, leaning down to pull you over his shoulder before flipping you over and slamming you on the mattress.
you let out an "oooff!" as your figure bounced up and down, the bed making more noises of protest at the juggling weight. you let out another scream as niki jumped to fall on top of you.
rolling away just in time as he came crashing down, he turned to make grabby hands at you, his laughter filling your room.
"that was so awesome. i'm awesome. heh. let me do that again!"
he was responded with a pillow being thrown into his face and your protests filling the air.
"you said only one thing!"
"just a few more moves!"
"no!"
"come on bro don't be lame!"
"what did you just call me?!?"
[11:48am]
you lay limp on your messed up bed, wondering what you did to deserve this life, your hair messed up from niki's own mock version of a wrestling match.
he had decided he had his fill of fun tossing you around like a bean bag and had strolled out of your room a few minutes ago, flexing his biceps like some wrestling champion and spurting more nonsense like "yeah i still got it", "i should get a gold belt for this" and "you're so week noona!".
a pillow went flying through the air to hit him again but he had already closed your bedroom door behind him.
you dragged out a sigh, closing your eyes. it's not like you minded the youngest's playfulness much. it always made you happy that he still kept his inner child close to him and was comfortable enough to still want to goof around with you. unlike the nonchalant act he was so firm on maintaining nowadays to keep a cool image for engenes. 'the fans know your past bro your digital footprint is all over the internet!'
you thought you finally had the day to yourself. snuggling back into your blanket, you were about to reach for your tablet to continue watching your en-oclock episode when you hesitated.
you heard them before you saw them.
you let out a low groan at the sound of your door bursting open again, not even bothering to turn your head at the familiar noises of jungwon and sunoo's bickering as they stormed into your room in the same manner as niki did earlier, not even caring to knock, the topic of their argument deemed far more important.
"noona!" they both yelled, demanding your attention.
you lifted your head to look up at them both, watching them playfully push and grab at each other, jungwon poking his fingers into sunoo's side as the elder one let out high pitched shrieks.
at least they won't be manhandling you or anything of the likes. but you couldn't be too sure. these are the boys of enhypen we're talking about.
you just stared at them and raised an eyebrow, your expression asking the question for you.
sunoo just had this kicked puppy dog look in his eyes as he stomps up closer to you and dramatically lays over you.
"ok so this is the situation." he says waving his hand. "me and jungwon can't agree on what to have for breakfast and who should be the one making it."
"... is that literally it?"
"you don't understand." jungwon told you, shaking his head as he leaned against the wall by your bed. "it's the principal of the matter. sunoo hyung lost a bet with me so he should make my breakfast!"
sunoo shook his head wildly, hair moving rapidly side to side. "and i told jungwon he should be the one making my breakfast today cuz he ate my ice cream from the fridge, so to make up for emotional damage, i think he should repent by making ME breakfast. it's only fair."
sunoo leaned his face down and rubbed his head against yours.
"scold him noonaaaa." he pouted.
you closed your eyes at sunoo's gesture, taking into account both of their sides. you peaked an eye open to look at jungwon as sunoo began to cuddle into your side. "you ate his ice cream again?"
jungwon leaned away from the wall and scoffed, pointing at you and sunoo, a mixure of betrayal and amusement on his face.
"don't take his side just cuz he's suddenly going all soft and sweet on you! you'd have taken my side if i was doing the same thing!" he yelled.
sunoo tilted his head to shoot jungwon a look. "no she wouldn't." he said snootily. "she'd take my side because she likes me more."
"nah uh!"
"yuh uh!"
"you both are ridiculous."
jungwon just loud out a tarzan-like war cry and threw himself over you and sunoo, dumping his body on top and adding to the weight, crushing you even more.
you and sunoo both began to cry out in protest as jungwon just boldly declares, "how about you make us breakfast noona!?"
with three bodies struggling to untangle from each others limbs, you made eye contact with jungwon's in between sunoo's arms and you shot him an dumbfounded look. "why me?? don't drag me into your breakfast problems!"
sunoo dodges a flying elbow and pauses. "you know what, that actually sounds nice."
you grunted. sunoo finally freed himself and jungwon moves to grab you and locks his arms around your middle, trapping your arms underneath his.
you couldn't help but scoff and let out laugh. "you guys aren't serious. i'm not making anyone anything!"
jungwon beamed, shaking you side to side. "oh come on noona. you're french toast are to die for! and we know you haven't eaten yet either!"
sunoo gets off your bed and claps gleefully. "okayyy it's settled~. french toast for breakfast!"
"hyung grab her legs!"
"sunoo don't you dare!" you shrieked as sunoo tugs at your legs and jungwon gets up to clumsily hold you by your armpits, the three of yours laughter and yells mixing as they ungracefully dragged you out of your bed and into the kitchen.
[2:11pm]
you were on the carpet of your bedroom floor, folding your dried clothes and piling them next to you when you suddenly heard jake girly screaming outside your closed door.
"it came!!!" he cried out.
you heard him run, trip and fall somewhere outside, curses slipping just as loud from his mouth as his stampeding drew closer towards your door.
you knew he was about to barge in. you just knew. don't ask how because you didn't know either.
your hunch proved correct once your door slammed open with a loud thud, jake's body skidding and sliding inside as he all but drops onto you on the floor.
you let out a gasp as he came crashing into your lap, right on top of the shirt you were folding.
one of jake's legs went flying after he crashed into you, right into a pile of folded pants and you yelled at him, slapping his back and scolding him for ruining your hard work.
jake just groaned, looking up at you from your lap. "i'll fold them again for you later!"
"jake you suck at folding clothes. why do you think you always beg me to do yours!"
his jaw dropped in offense and he let out an overly dramatic gasp. "i do not! you just... fold the corners of my shirts better..."
"that's not even a real- what do you sim?"
"oh yeah!" jake lets out, clumsily sitting back up to sit criss-cross applesauce in front of you and revealing what was in his hands.
"it finally came!" he happily cried, shoving the item in your face. you grabbed it from his hands and moved it away to properly inspect it.
you looked at the colorful box in your hands. "is this the new lego piece you've been on about? you finally ordered it?"
jake nodded. "yeah! oh my gawd i can't wait for us to make it together!"
you peaked at him confused. "'us'? you want me to make this with you?"
"yeah duh!" jake tapped at the picture on the front, making you focus more on the illustration.
you couldn't help but let out a giggle. "didn't catch you for a 'bouquet' type of guy jake. i thought you'd prefer movie related or other types of lego."
jake just smiled, looking away from your eyes and down at the medium sized box in your hands. he nervously scratched the back of his neck.
"just a thank you for helping me get better last week when i was sick." he shyly muttered. "you were really concerned for me and doted on me in big lengths when you didn't have to. so consider this as a sign of my appreciation. if you wanna build it yourself then that's chill, but if you wanna make it together then i'm ready to go."
he looked back at you and you pouted. "aww jakey." you cooed, touched at his thoughtfulness. "you don't have to thank me for that. i'd do that for you and others happily with no strings attached." you moved the clothes in your lap and pushed them to the side, opening the box excitedly, a blush on your cheeks. "but i really appreciate this, thank you so much."
jake's grin grew wider as he excitedly watched you open the lego box, pride swelling up inside him as you pulled out multiple plastic packets full of lego pieces along with the instructions.
you looked over at the amount of pieces and unfolded the huge instructions manual. "well i definitely need help." you chuckled, grinning at jake. "i would love it if you helped me jake."
jake cheered and pumped his fists, clearly hoping for that exact answer. he moved to lay over on his stomach as he excitedly began to explain the steps for you and opening the plastic packets, showing you how to start. he was clearly ecstatic, you could almost see an invisible tail wagging as his leg kicked out again and knocked over another pile of your clothes.
you laughed and gently slapped his back.
"easy boy."
[4:39pm]
you lowered the brightness of your computer and rubbed your eyes, blinking at your screen.
you had a document opened up in front of you, page empty for the past fifteen minutes. the only thing you'd done so far was decorating the borders and page.
it was your turn next week to film an en-log, and you were jotting down ideas on what you could do.
at least that's what you were supposed to do anyways. all the good ideas were already done by you in previous uploads, and you wanted to do something new that engenes would find interesting. you began procrastinating even more once you found the editing and decorating option. so you sat there with a f/c decorated page with just the title on top in bold: 'y/n's amazing en-log ideas! ♡' and the rest of the page empty.
"y/n!!"
your ears perked up. that sounded like heeseung.
you crossed you arms and turned around in your seat to face the door. mentally counting down in your head, heeseung barged into your room exactly as you reached zero.
your sixth senses were off the charts today.
you became a bit worried though at the frantic look on heeseung's face. "heeseung oppa? everything ok?" you asked, crossed arms coming down as you gave him a concerned look. "did something hap-"
heeseung said nothing and just marched up to you, slamming his hands on your shoulders causing you to jump and then shaking you.
"i need to use your computer! like... right now!" he pleaded. "it's urgent!"
"w-what for??"
heeseung's hands left your figure to grip his hair instead.
"my computer's keyboard went bust! i'm gonna lose my league of legends match!" he cried in agony.
all signs of sympathy wiped off from your face. "seriously?" you responded. "oppa, i thought it was something serious."
heeseung gaped at you. "this is serious!" he exclaimed, flabbergasted that you weren't getting it and clearly forgetting that you don't play that game. you obviously preferred minecraft.
"you literally could've asked niki sunghoon or jay." you remarked. "you guys are all literally on the same floor! or yet, the other guys on this floor."
heeseung shook his head wildly. "we're ALL playing together right now! it's everyone versus everyone and my keyboard literally broke as soon as things were getting good! my reputation as the best player is at stake! lemme play on your computer for a bit!"
"you have like, ten keyboards!"
heeseung looked to the side, ears suddenly turning red.
"i uhh... broke them all in previous game rages."
you choked out a "what" and heeseung was suddenly falling on his knees in front of you, hands clasping as he began to literally beg.
"PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEA-"
"ok, alright!" you yelled, eyes wide as you told the eldest to get up from the floor, quickly sending the blank doc to your tablet, deciding to just work on it from there instead.
with a few hurried clicks, you got up and heeseung took your place to quickly open the gaming app.
your eyes narrowed as the application for the game opened up.
"i don't remember downloading that?"
"yeah i downloaded it that one time i asked to borrow your computer. you never know when these emergencies can happen." he looked away from the screen to your face. "can i use your headphones too? i forgot mine upstairs."
your mind blanked at his declaration. "uhh, yeah. sure."
passing him your headphones, heeseung turned back around and began to game like he usually does, as if your strange conversation didn't just occur.
"i'll try not to make so much noise." he promised, before his attention was completely taken over by the game.
you gave the back of his head an unconvinced look but ultimately just shrugged. picking up your tablet, you sat on the carpet on your floor and leaned back against your bed, continuing to work on your ideas for your video.
it took some time for heeseung to finish gaming, and you nodded at the river of thank you's that he threw your way when he was done.
you had never heard so many curse words fly out of someone's mouth while they gamed in your life.
[7:57pm]
you were back underneath the covers of your blanket in your bed, comfortably reading a book that an engene had recommended to you at a meet and greet a few months ago when your door slams open once more.
you dragged out a loud groan, looking up at the intruder and your body stiffened.
niki stood by the entrance in a wide stance. face firm and set.
you both made eye contact and you gave him a tensed look.
"dawg come on i'm reading-!"
he flips you over his shoulder again.
[8:35pm]
your book laid on your bed, abandoned. and you laid on the floor, utterly abused and in the same position as that one peter griffin fall meme.
sunghoon walks in this time. one hand in his pocket, the other balancing a plate with two generous slices of tiramisu cake.
he takes one good look at your figure on the floor, and with zero brain cells blurts out, "are you doing yoga?"
when you don't answer he pokes you with his feet, provoking a small noise of pain from you.
the man just begins to ramble.
"yah, you shouldn't do yoga at night you know!" he vocalized, tone all naggy. "it's late and your cells and mitochondria are supposed to prepare themselves for sleeping. if you do yoga right now you're like, waking them up, and that's why kids these days have trouble sleeping! don't google that though. if it's wrong, jake told me all that so you can question his education, not mine."
he got no response from you.
"oh right." he lifts the plate of tiramisu in his right hand towards you, as if the back of your head had eyes and could see what he was holding. "i know i dropped some on your bed earlier, but i got some more cuz i swore to you that i'd make you try some of this deadass amazing tiramisu from this bakery down the road. you kicked me out earlier when i got just a little bit of frosting on your bed. how rude."
he dropped a whole slice, actually. but he's sure you'd forgotten about that already.
you had not.
he looked around your room, still talking to himself.
"why's your bed so messy. were you taking a nap?" he steps over you the ass and stands by your bed. "why does it look like you were doing a wrestling match on your own bed? the covers are coming off and everything! and you nag at me for having a messy bed. man kids these days i tell you-"
with clean bedsheets spread out the millionth time that day, the universe had decided that it was now jay's turn to start coming into your room.
his visit was less... troublesome, compared to others, but it was definitely the most strangest.
you were already dressed in your pajamas, doing your skin care by your vanity when he gives three loud knocks on your door before barging in, not even waiting for your reply (does anyone in this house though?) and closing it shut with his foot. he's also in his pajamas.
"does this look cool?" is all he asks, before getting down on the ground and suddenly doing a backspin on your floor, posing on his side once he stopped spinning, a hand on his hip and the other propping his head up with a bent arm.
you just looked at him.
there were no words to share at this point. with all your interactions with your members the whole day, you frankly were unsure of what was even safe to say anymore.
jay was still patiently waiting for your feedback, eyes looking at you in seriousness before he suddenly bolted to stand up.
"no no no wait." he rushed out. "THIS one would be cooler."
the handstand he attempted was very poor. he wasn't able to balance himself properly or lift his weight fully off the ground.
"ok wait, WAIT. a backflip would be better!"
you opened your mouth to protest, ready to tell jay that he's gonna hurt himself when the dumb just trips over his own feet and lands face first on the carpet, and all you can do is stare at his back in disappointment.
you could hear hollering coming from jungwon's room, hollering that got louder and louder, until it was right outside your bedroom. your poor door goes swinging open with the hinges audibly protesting as the rest of the enhypen boys spill into your room also dressed in their pajamas, screaming and cheering like they were watching a football match.
their eyes landed on jay's figure on the floor and they all begin to laugh uncontrollably at him.
"yah hyung!" sunoo laughs out. "you actually suck at this!"
"come on hyung, you're losing this breakdancing match!" niki taunts as he walks circles around jay's figure with his arms flexing in the air.
everyone else just moves to claim a random spot in your room. sunoo and heeseung were lounging on your bed, jungwon was sitting on your desk chair, jake was rolling on the floor laughing and sunghoon was leaning against your vanity chair, half leaning onto you and half trying to support his own weight, trying not to fall down from laughing so hard.
jay by now had already gotten up and he and niki began to breakdance right in the middle of your room, both of them horrible at it but the latter looking far better than his hyung since he was the dancer of the group.
you ignored them as you focused on yourself in the mirror in front of you, seeing some of the action through the reflective glass but not paying them any mind.
a small bowl suddenly blocks your vision, and you blinked in surprise at the small serving of tiramisu that sunghoon places carefully in front of you on your vanity. looking up to see the cheeky smile on his face, you felt your shoulders drop down, a laugh finally bubbling out of your throat.
"i can't believe you." you giggled, and he beams down at you, bringing a hand up to ruffle your hair affectionately before turning around to continue screaming at niki and jay, who in a turn of events, began to wrestle each other instead.
you brought the spoon that was wedged into the cake into your mouth, the flavor and fluffiness of tiramisu filling your mouth as you let out a soft sigh.
it was indeed a strange day you had, but it was filled with the members of your group whom you loved dearly. and you decided that maybe the sounds of your door slamming and their barging in wasn't always a bad thing, as long as you could have moments like these with them for as long as the universe allowed you to.
author's note: always been thinking about 8th enha girl member lolz. it's an interesting trope and i love them honestly. we need more of them in my opinion. like lemme be a goof with them.
reblog, like and comment if you liked this! i'm not sure if others will like this, but i'll still try to write more of member!reader since it's something i personally enjoy.
The fact that are STILL tons of people in the comment sections on IG and everywhere trying to find ways to doubt Jungwon's very clear and concise statement is just...a fantastic case of mass psychosis and delusion. I can't believe it. Saying shit like "he looked away from the camera, so he must have been forced to do this." Are you really this fucking dense?
Imagine having to put out a statement like this FOUR MONTHS after a member's departure because a large portion of your fandom suddenly hates you and won't accept you as a six member group, because they think they know what happened better than you do. Do you OT7 people even realize what kind of psychological abuse you are participating in towards the remaining members? Yes, this is a case of mass bullying. I'm calling it for what it is. You are abusing your so called favorite group.
He's literally looking away because it's painful for him to even have to address this in the first place. That's what it looks like when somebody is trying to stay professional and not burst out in tears because they are shouldering a burden they shouldn't have to shoulder in the first place.
I need a social study on this entire phenomenon because at this point OT7 is a fucking cult lmao. You guys are absolutely beyond saving. And yes, you are Enhypen Antis to me at this point. Do not ever call yourselves Engenes, you cowards. Anyone still trying to do the OT7 fanchant in my vicinity is getting their shit rocked idgaf.
jungwon has finally spoken up. they care about the fanchant. of course they do, when they are the ones who had to endure lines redistribution and choreography rearrangements just weeks before the tour. i kindly ask you to stop the ot7 fanchant and start respecting the members. stop thinking about yourself and what you want and start thinking about the members. that is if you truly care about them.
we can always honour the past by streaming their old songs. you can honour heeseung by not leaving him just because he went solo. if you can respect him as a solo artist by doing his solo fanchant then you can also do the same to enhypen. enhypen is enhypen, heeseung is evan. it’s high time we give them the overdue respect.
╭₊˚๑ the poets would love you ☁️₊˚੭ @twocupsofsuga - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
