let’s gaur~ multistan!!🥰

Some deeper parts within him would care to disagree, however, he had perfected this art of burying them six feet under layers of easy smiles. At twenty-three, Jake was the hot Physics student pursuing Masters with a killer arm (or leg in this case) on the football field. 

He had always been good at drowning out uneasiness with a bright grin, a well-timed joke that he somehow laughed at harder than the others, the easy way his hand would find the small of someone’s back as he guided them through a crowded party. It worked, it always worked.

Hardworking to a fault, he balanced brutal training sessions, demanding coursework, and still found time to be the social glue of every group he touched. Clumsy in the most endearing ways—tripping over his own feet during victory celebrations or spilling his coffee down his jersey—he’d just laugh it off, turning mishaps into stories. 

So, in a word, Jake Sim was considered to be carefree by any living creature that had the slightest pleasure of meeting him.

And to put it simply, he enjoyed it. He basked in the attention thrown his way, not in a way that would label him as arrogant, it just came to him as easy as, well, breathing. All that effortless energy around him kept him sane, coming from a loving family, to having friends he could call his second family, he truly cherished it to the core. 

Tonight the spring kickoff party in the quad thrummed under strings of warm fairy lights, the bass from the speakers mixing with the scent of grilled corn (to Jay’s absolute delight), spilled beer, and early cherry blossoms. Jake stood right at the center of it all, lean athletic build relaxed as he leaned against the brick pillar, red solo cup in hand, black hair falling in soft tousled waves. He ran his fingers through it absentmindedly while Heeseung gestured wildly mid-story, the group around him already cracking up at the enthusiasm of it all. 

“—and then she just looks at me after the game, all flushed and smiling, and says you looked really good out there tonight. Next thing I know we’re back at her place and I’m thinking, damn, maybe I should score more goals if this is the reward,” Heeseung said, smile wide as he took a swig from his cup.

Jay laughed at that, “you’re too fucking easy,” he mumbled, taking a bite of corn, pairing it up with vodka right after. 

Sunghoon leaned back against the pillar, smirking as he shook his head, “you two are hopeless, now let me tell you guys about what real pleasure is—”

“Spare us the details,” Jeno mumbled, a tad bit tipsy with the amount of booze he’d been consuming, Jaemin holding him up, but his mind was elsewhere, planning something rather crazy to wash out the usual mundane conversation. 

Jake’s laugh rolled out bright, head tilting back and shoulders shaking with genuine amusement, “you guys are practically whores,” he clicked his tongue, “but yeah—nothing beats that post-game high when someone’s waiting for you looking like that. Makes all the bruises worth it.” He bit his lower lip lightly, still grinning as he scanned the lively surroundings, eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. 

Across the grass, you stood with Jungwon and Karina near the low stone wall, Jungwon had dragged the two of you here earlier, insisting it would be lowkey fun because his Jay hyung had invited him and “it’s not like we have to stay forever.” The music played in the background, but your attention stayed on them—sharp little remarks about random campus drama, Karina’s latest story about a disastrous blind date, the usual easy flow that made the noise somewhat bearable. 

Jungwon glanced toward the center of the party, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he watched Jake’s group, “Jake’s in full golden-boy mode tonight. Look at him— Jay says he’s the same off the field, always cracking jokes even when everyone’s half-dead from practice.”

Karina nodded, swirling the last of her drink slowly, “It’s almost unfair how he does that, wish i could’ve been that extroverted honestly.”

You followed their gaze without meaning to. Jake was mid-laugh again, black hair falling messily into his eyes as he ran a hand through it. The light catching the sharp line of his jaw, the way his whole body seemed to lean into the moment. Everyone around him was leaning in too, feeding off that bright, effortless warmth. 

It made something tight and irritated coil low in your stomach. Not jealousy, no, just exhaustion at the performance of it all. The way the entire party seemed wired to orbit one guy who never seemed to run out of smiles or energy.

You shrugged, “he’s too loud. Must get exhausting pretending the world’s that fun all the time.”

Jungwon bumped your shoulder lightly, his laugh soft and familiar, “c’mon, he’s not that bad. Jay swears he’s actually decent when you get him one-on-one. But yeah, he looks a wee bit too jolly tonight.”

Karina smirked, eyes glinting with teasing as she glanced at you, “you’d probably shut him down in two seconds flat if he ever tried talking to you. I’d pay to see that.”

You pressed your lips together for half a second, the thought of Jake Sim turning that sunshine smile on you—of him thinking he could just waltz into your carefully guarded space—sent a flicker of pure distaste through you. You weren’t interested in being another notch, another story he told his friends the next day. 

Your life revolved around the quiet satisfaction of getting things right, majorly focusing on, well, studies. Romance, especially the loud, golden-boy kind, had no place in it.

“Exactly,” you said, tone edged with dry sarcasm, “not interested. Let’s grab something from the food trucks and dip before it gets worse. I’ve hit my limit on forced fun for one night.”

You didn’t mind being in the crowd as long as your friends were with you, however, you did mind the exhaustion creeping upon your body. No one but you were to be blamed for it. Going to the gym in the morning, catching up on lectures later, getting groceries, and now being at a party—you’d tired yourself out with the simple mindset of being busy is a blessing. It was true to some extent, albeit not in a way that your friends would agree. The conversation didn’t dull as you started making your way out to eat with your best friends. 

On the other side of the quad, Jake was only half-listening to the guys now, he felt himself getting comfortable in his smaller circle, it was exactly the kind of night Jake usually loved.

But his eyes kept drifting. 

It wasn’t as if it was his first time seeing you, especially when Jungwon was always around too, it was merely the fact that you kept your distance, always. Jake wasn’t blind, he appreciated beauty which you carried around effortlessly. The lack of general courtesy to acknowledge strangers? Not so much. 

You looked like you wished to be anywhere but here (which was true), making him wonder why. He ran his hand through his hair, messing the soft waves before smoothing them back down, a habit he barely noticed anymore.

Jaemin, who had been unusually quiet for the last minute, suddenly leaned in closer, voice dropping low enough that only their small circle could hear over the music, “wanna make things interesting?” 

Jay groaned, knowing his proposal would cause damage in the name of merriment, because that’s how Jaemin thrived. Sunghoon was rather interested in knowing what was gonna be the deal here, and so, he continued. 

“See her? Jungwon’s friend?” The group turned and looked your way, Jay already opening his mouth to stop him, but of course, Jaemin was quicker, “make her fall in love with you in a month.”

“Wait—me?” Jake echoed, the word half-laugh, half-disbelief, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it usually did.

Jaemin leaned in closer. His grin was sharp, almost scary, “yeah, you, in one month. Make Jungwon’s friend fall for you, hard. Like, actually in love with you to the point it gets public.”

Jay’s head snapped up so fast the corn on his plate nearly toppled, “Jaemin, no. She’s not—fuck, she’s not gonna be interested, at all. I literally know her, she keeps everyone at arm’s length, especially guys like Jake, no offence.”

Sunghoon’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed, interested now in a way that made Jake’s stomach twist, “stakes?”

Jaemin didn’t hesitate, “If Jake wins—makes her say it out loud, in front of us—he gets the M4. Keys, papers, the whole matte-black beast. Mine for a month, and if he wants to keep it after that, it’s his. No take-backs.”

The circle went quiet for half a second before Heeseung let out a low whistle, cup frozen halfway to his mouth, “your car? The one you won’t even let me sit in without a fucking background check?”

“Yep.”

Jay dragged a hand down his face, shoulders tight, “Jake, this is messed up. You’ll hurt her, and then you’ll feel like shit, and she’ll hate you, and the whole group’s gonna be stuck in the middle because Jungwon’s her best friend. This isn’t a game, It’s gonna blow up in both your faces.”

Jake’s fingers found the back of his neck, then slid up into his hair without thinking. He messed them further, his eyes drifting across the quad again to where you were still walking away with Jungwon and Karina, posture straight, silver ring catching the light as you twisted it mindlessly. 

He should say no. He should clap Jaemin on the shoulder, laugh it off, steer the conversation back to the upcoming football match or the thermodynamics midterm that was currently trying to murder all of them. 

But something stubborn flickered in his chest. The same part that hated the idea of failing at the one thing he was supposedly best at, making people feel seen. You hadn’t even looked at him twice. 

One month, one girl who looked like she probably just needed someone nice to talk to and share her worries—right? 

Jake bit his lower lip for half a second, the way he did when he was locking in on a tricky play. Then the grin came back as bright and effortless, the one that always worked.

“Deal,” he said, not confident at all, though great at hiding it.

The group exploded, clearly not okay with the idea itself. Jay groaned louder, already shaking his head, “you’re both idiots. This is gonna end badly.”

Sunghoon just laughed under his breath, leaning back against the pillar, “I’ll take that bet too. Odds on Jake cracking first?”

Heeseung was already pulling out his phone, demanding proof in the form of media. Jaemin slapped Jake’s shoulder hard enough to make his red solo cup slosh over the rim.

“Day one starts tomorrow, Jakey. Better bring everything you’ve got.”

Jake laughed again, but when it settled, it left something quieter behind. Something that tasted a little (a lot) like doubt.

Later that night, when the place had emptied and the only sound left was the low hum of crickets, Jake lay on his back in his room. The mellow playlist he always played when the noise finally stopped drifted from his phone. His small notebook—the one no one ever saw—was open on his chest, a half-finished football formation doodled in the margin. He wrote one line.

She doesn’t like loud spaces, or crowds. 

He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and exhaled into the dark.

“What the fuck am I doing?” He whispered.

Across campus, you were already in your room, bullet journal open on your desk, silver ring still on your finger. You didn’t know about the bet yet. All you knew was that Jake Sim had never looked your way before last night, and something about the way his eyes had followed you across the grass fell off.

You pressed your lips together, biting the inside of your cheek once, then wrote in the tiniest handwriting in the margin of tomorrow’s schedule.

Keep your distance from Jake Sim.

CHAPTER TWO: Bet inverse?

Jake’s alarm went off at 6:47 in the morning like it always did, but this morning he didn’t bother hitting snooze. He stayed there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, the bet from last night practically sitting on his chest. Jaemin’s evil smile and Jay’s warning kept on repeating in his mind.

He should have let it go, instead, he rolled out of the bed, pulled on his black hoodie and shorts, laced up his running shoes after freshening up. He knew where Jungwon lived, the dorms near the science buildings where there was always an influx of food carts nearby. 

The distance wasn’t long per se, but his breathlessness certainly made it seem like it was, and the little hope he had to spot you in the cold of this morning.

The sky was soft gray before the sun decided to show up, and Jake’s lungs were burning in a way that made him feel good, hair sticking to his forehead by the time he slowed to jog near the coffee cart. 

To his absolute luck, he spotted you right there as you thought what you should order from the coffee cart, looking too proper in your jeans that fit you just right as if it wasn’t so early in the morning, and he took a moment to observe you, breathing hard, wiping his face on the sleeve of his hoodie. He stepped up beside you, the scent of your perfume overtaking his senses. 

His friends called him weird for this rather peculiar habit of his where he leaned in too much to get a sniff of, well, practically everything. So, it was hard fir him to control himself at the moment.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low so it wouldn’t startle you, “uh—hey.”

You turned, eyes meeting him before you granted him the smallest nod of acknowledgement, “Jake.”

The barista waited and Jake kept his hands in his hoodie pocket so he wouldn’t fidget, “one Americano for me, and whatever she’s having—I’ll cover it.”

You frowned at this because Jake truly had no reason to be talking to you here, much less paying for your drink, “you really don’t have to.”

“I know.” He offered a half-smile, the real one, “but I want to. We’ve been around each other enough—Jungwon’s parties, that study hall last semester. Felt kinda stupid that we’ve never actually talked.”

You studied him a second longer, like you were trying to decide if this was a line or just politeness. Then you told the barista your usual—vanilla latte, extra shot, and stepped aside while the machine hissed to life.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward exactly, Jake could feel the bet sitting heavy in his throat, but right now it was better—the way your perfume kept drifting over every time the breeze picked up. He wanted to lean in again, but he didn’t.

When both cups came out he handed yours over carefully, no fingers touching, just the warm cardboard passing from his palm to yours.

“Uh—thanks,” you said simply before you started walking.

He fell in beside you, matching your stride without crowding your personal space. The path was empty enough to give you both privacy which you didn’t need as his heartbeat felt a little too loud in his ears, and for the first time, he found himself being nervous to talk to someone. 

After half a minute you spoke again, “so how do you always act all nice for people you barely know?”

His lips curved, “I don’t do that, not really. Usually I’m the one everyone expects to keep things light,” he mumbled, “I saw you last night, you looked—bothered? Made me wonder what it’d be like to actually talk to you instead of just watching.”

You took a sip, wondering how he so casually admitted to staring at you, “and what’s the verdict so far?”

He glanced sideways, the early light was starting to hit the side of your face, “still figuring it out. But the coffee seems like a decent start.”

You didn’t smile, not really. But something in your expression eased, and it made him feel a little accomplished, as if he’d won something small and fragile that could disappear any moment.

The path split ahead, biotech building looming on the left. You slowed, turning to face him fully. For a second the guarded look cracked open, and he caught something underneath it—irritation, maybe, or the faintest flicker of curiosity you didn’t want to admit to.

“I’ve got lab,” you said. 

Jake nodded, the easy warmth still on his face even though his stomach twisted with how badly he wanted to ask one more question, “yeah, of course. See you around, Y/N.”

You gave one small nod then turned and walked toward the doors. He stood there until you disappeared inside, the taste of black coffee bitter on his tongue and the ghost of your perfume still clinging to the air around him. He breathed it in once, almost guilty, then let it go.

Back in his dorm he dropped onto the bed still in his hoodie, the room quiet. The small notebook he never let anyone see was already open on his lap. He stared at the blank page for a long moment, before writing: Vanilla latte with an extra shot, morning lectures in lab 291.

He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and stayed like that until the pressure behind them eased.

Meanwhile, you were beyond confused narrating it to Karina later, who gave you a dry chuckle, “yeah, don’t entertain him,” she said, and you scoffed—as if you’d ever do that. 

But three days had passed since the party, and it was as if Jake had made it his personal mission to accidentally run into you whenever you least expected him to. Somehow, he had managed to get your schedule, which is why he was standing outside your lecture on the very next day. 

Jake was a poor actor and highly unaware of the same, so his exclaimed Oh, Y/N, felt rather comical to you, granted he had two coffees in his veiny hands. You chose to ignored him, face pulling into a natural smile for a second, and he stood there shocked, only to realize you were waving at Jungwon who stood behind him.

Jake stood there for a few minutes, not moving even when you had left while Heeseung and Sunghoon stood right there, judging him. Your smile—as brief as it was, had been pretty, too fucking pretty, and doubt crept up Jake. He wondered if he’ll ever be able to coax that smile out of you himself.

The thought followed him through the rest of the day, sharp enough to make him reroute his afternoon lecture so he happened to be near the vending machines right as you stepped out of lab. He was there again the morning after that, leaning against the wall outside the biotech building with a single vanilla latte in hand, the extra shot already marked on the side in the barista’s neat handwriting. Each time he appeared, he kept his voice low, never demanding more, though it felt like a blow to his ego how you actively tried to avoid him. He genuinely wished to talk to you (for the bet, of course).

By the third afternoon the rain had started, insistent against the library windows. You had slipped into the far back study nook, the one buried behind the tallest reference shelves, you needed it—needed to bury yourself in studies and forget how Jake’s persistence was beginning to thread through your days like a melody you couldn’t quite shake.

You pulled out your bullet journal and started annotating protocols for the upcoming lab, pen moving with sharp precision, and you felt a presence behind you. You were most ready to snap at Jake, but it was Jaemin who found you instead.

He dropped into the chair across from you, smirking, like he had been waiting for this exact moment, “Jake’s been hanging around you a lot lately,” he said, voice light but knowing, “you might fall for him.”

You set your pen down slowly, “what makes you think I’ll fall for him?”

Jaemin’s smirk deepened, “well, chances are less but certainly never zero.”

You frowned, irritation rising, “what do you want, Jaemin?”

“I was getting to it.” He leaned forward, eyes glinting, “I wanna propose another bet since I’m bored and I clearly care for you.”

“Another bet?” You asked, brain finally working. Jake was following you around for a fucking bet, you should’ve known. 

Jaemin watched your face change and his grin widened, “I give you thirty days to make him fall for you. And I mean truly head-over-heels kind of fall, then reject him, then you win, since you clearly don’t care about him.”

You stared at him, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, “I don’t want to be involved playing with feelings.”

“If he didn’t care for your feelings, why are you holding back?”

“Cause I’m not like him?” 

“Fair, but here’s the deal—” Jaemin leaned in closer, voice dropping.

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“It’s fun.”

“You’re insane.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What is he getting out of this?”

“My car.”

Another scoff left your mouth at this, and Jaemin said he’d give you anything you wanted if you’d win. Nothing was in your mind honestly, but you were too pissed to let it go.

“And what will I get?”

“A chance to absolutely shatter Jake’s ego, and that trip to Paris with your friends, you’ve been eyeing it for a while now.”

“How the fuck did you—”

“I have my ways,” he shrugged, but his eyes, oh his eyes were glimmering with joy. He almost seemed like a Cheshire cat. 

So you agreed. Jaemin only smiled, walking away from you now, leaving you rather disturbed. 

As if the universe itself had been listening, Jake walked past the end of the aisle at that exact moment, eyes scanning the shelves until they landed on you. You met his gaze head-on and gave him the smallest smile you owned, and he paused mid-step, lips parting like he might say something, then you looked away, not bothering with him anymore than you had today.

The game had just begun. And this time, you were the one holding the cards.

CHAPTER THREE: Ignorance isn’t bliss 

You ignored Jake. 

It was rather easy to do so despite all the plans you had brainstormed to make him fall in love with you hopelessly. The day had been too hectic, and to say you were exhausted would be an understatement—even the slightest voice would absolutely make you scream out in frustration given the state of your mind. Which is why you found yourself sitting in the bleachers, all silent and calm. 

Truth be told, you didn’t wish to get into this mess by any means, however, Jake wasn’t one to give up. You scoffed at how he’d trade any stranger’s feelings for a stupid car, and even then he’d be celebrated for winning a bet. 

Jake didn’t know why but the past few days had been weird for him. He couldn’t understand why you smiled at him in the library only to abruptly disappear from the face of the earth next—and yes, it bothered him because the time was ticking by. Maybe Jake was a lucky guy, cause right then, he found you at the bleachers, sitting up there as if trying to hide from the world. 

It was clear you didn’t wish to be disturbed, by Jake of all people, but his feet carried him before his mind could keep up, and that’s how he found himself sitting three seats away from you, prepping to show his absolute best flirt game, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “are you okay?”

“Why are you everywhere?” You exasperated, finally turning to look at him despite knowing he’d found you before. 

For once he didn’t jump in with some easy line. He just sat there a second, elbows on his knees, watching you like he was actually trying to read the mood instead of skating past it.

“I saw you from the path,” he said, “you were up here alone, I figured I’d check if you were okay. That’s it.”

You let out a sharp breath, the exhaustion from your day mixing with the frustration that had been building since Jaemin dropped his little bomb about the bet. This is all fake, you reminded yourself. He’s only here because he wants that stupid car, that bet. 

“Checking in, right. You’ve been turning up at the coffee cart, outside my lectures, the vending machines, now here. I’m not in the mood for whatever this is.”

He shifted one seat closer, jacket creaking a little, but still left space between you, “I’m not trying to push. I know it probably comes off like I’m in your face every day. It’s just—you always seem like you’re carrying a lot and you’re doing it alone. I guess I wanted to see if you were actually alright or if you were just pushing through.”

You turned to face him, eyes narrowing, “pushing through is what students do, Jake. I don’t need an audience for it.”

“Yeah, I see that,” he said, gulping as he stared at your side profile, “you’re pretty resilient about it. Most people would’ve already vented to someone by now—and maybe you did to your friends but yeah.”

“Resilient?” You let out a short laugh, “or just tired of everyone expecting me to perform. Unlike the quintessential golden boy who’s always got a smile ready.”

Jake winced, looked out at the empty field for a second, then back at you, “golden boy—ouch, fair though. That’s the label I got stuck with.”

You crossed your arms tighter, “so, why are you up here trying to talk to me instead of being there with your friends? It doesn’t add up.”

He rubbed his palm over his knee, “uh—with them it’s nonstop noise, like I love my friends but it’s all just football practice, jokes, keeping the energy up no matter what. With you—it doesn’t feel like I have to be that version of me.”

You scoffed, how cliché, “right. So now the guy who’s always the center of everything suddenly wants to sit in silence on the bleachers?”

Jake leaned forward a fraction, elbows on his knees, “there’s this whole dichotomy between what everyone sees and what’s actually going on inside. Talking to you, it’s not like that.”

“Not like that,” you repeated, the words coming out flat, “how convenient, Jake.”

He swallowed again, eyes flicking to your face as you said his name, “It’s not convenient, It’s just true. You don’t expect me to keep the vibe going, y’know? You just say what you think.”

You felt your chest tighten. He sounded so damn eloquent even when he was lying, “you’re really good at this, you know? Making it sound like you actually get it.”

“I’m not trying to be good at anything,” Jake said, voice dropping, “I just keep showing up because every time I do, I see more of the real you. Not the version you show everyone else.”

You let out a breath, he could definitely get a few points for acting, “okay, so listen then—my lab did suck today. Equipment kept failing, I’m behind on three lectures, and I came up here to be alone, that’s it. Nothing exciting.”

“Hey—i didn’t ask for exciting,” he said, staring at the way your fingers still twisted the ring, “my day was shit too—coach rode us hard about tomorrow’s game and I barely studied for my midterm. Sometimes I just want to sit somewhere and not pretend everything’s perfect.”

You stared at him, “so you picked me to sit with? Out of everyone on campus?”

“Yeah,” Jake said simply, meeting your eyes, “because you don’t expect anything from me. You call me on my shit. It’s nice, I guess.”

“Whatever, I’m fine keeping my distance and acting like you care won’t change that, okay?” 

“I do care,” Jake let out too quickly, surprised at his own words, “that’s the part you don’t believe, but it’s true.”

The conversation was getting too real, too fast, and the knowledge of the bet made every word feel like a trap, “It’s exhausting trying to figure out if any of this is real or if you’re just—”

Mid-sentence, just as your voice rose, Jake closed the gap by embracing you into a hug. His arms wrapping around you without hesitation, one hand settling at your back, the other across your shoulders. The dark jacket was soft against your cheek, still warm from the afternoon sun, carrying that clean, steady scent that was just him.

You practically froze as his heartbeat thudded against your ear—fast, as if the move had surprised him too. It was warm, really warm, making everything feel a little less heavy for a second. Even though you knew this was all part of the cursed bet, the gesture was still something, making your eyes sting. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had held you like they actually meant it.

Jake’s own breath caught as he held you. His pulse wouldn’t slow down, guilt and something else he couldn’t pinpoint made his heart seem heavier. For those few seconds he just held on, chin resting lightly against the top of your head, breathing you in like he could somehow make the whole stupid situation disappear.

It was awkward, because you in fact did not reciprocate the hug that well, proceeding to pull back with your cheeks burning. Jake’s hands stayed on your shoulders for half a second longer than they should have before he let go, looking just as thrown as you felt. He closed his eyes, biting on his bottom lip too hard, panicking cause for once, he didn’t know how to handle the situation. 

The anxiety only rose as you grabbed your bag, planning on getting up, however, his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, “I’ve got a game tomorrow—It would mean a lot if you came, no pressure. You don’t have to stay the whole time or cheer or anything. Just come—if you want to for a break.”

You didn’t answer right away, watching him mutter it out all breathless, hair messy and cheeks seemingly red now. You barely caught on to his words, still processing the warmth, but a part of you did wish to reject him on the spot and walk away before the things got more complicated. 

Another part wondered what would happen if you actually showed up, since you did have your own bet to take care of. 

CHAPTER FOUR: Like a rom-com actor 

The next afternoon the stadium was already packed and buzzing when Jake stepped onto the field for warm-ups. He was supposed to be loosening up his legs, listening to the coach bark instructions, getting his head in the game. Instead his eyes kept flicking up to the stands every few seconds. The wind was blowing hard across the pitch, constantly shoving his black hair into his eyes no matter how many times he tried to push it back.

Jay jogged over and bumped his shoulder, “dude, earth to Jake? You’ve been staring up there like you’re waiting for the love of your life to appear. You good?”

Sunghoon, who was retying his cleats a few feet away, let out a low laugh, “he’s been doing it nonstop. Head snapping up every ten seconds. What’s got you so distracted today? You never get like this before a home game.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a casual laugh even though his stomach was doing flips,  “I’m fine, just looking for someone.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick glance with Sunghoon, “someone? As in a specific someone who’s basically a bet? Damn, this must be serious if it’s got you this antsy within a week.”

Jake didn’t get the chance to answer, because he finally spotted you.

You were sitting a few rows up with Jungwon and Karina, the wind tugging at your hair the same way it was messing with his. The second your eyes met his across the field, Jake’s breath caught hard in his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs because—you actually came? For a second he forgot how to move, just standing there staring like an idiot while the wind kept pushing his hair everywhere.

You gave him a small smile and lifted your hand, waving at him softly.

Jake’s whole face lit up before he could stop it. Without thinking, he waved back enthusiastically, arm swinging high and wide as if he was trying to reach you from the middle of the pitch. His hair flew wildly in the wind as he did it, the motion so eager and over-the-top that Jay choked on his water and Sunghoon doubled over laughing so hard he had to grab onto Jay’s arm to stay upright.

“What the fuck—” Sunghoon wheezed, “you just waved like a little kid who spotted his mom after school. I’ve never seen you do that in my life.”

Jay was cracking up too, wiping water off his chin, “yeah he’s absolutely finished. Down horrendously bad and it’s not even been a few days.”

“Guess we know who’s gonna lose the bet,” added Hoon in a singsong voice. 

“He never stood a chance honestly.”

Meanwhile, around you, a bunch of girls in the stands noticed Jake’s dramatic wave and immediately started squealing, waving back excitedly and calling out his name like he’d waved at all of them. A few even stood up, cheering for him loudly.

You raised an eyebrow, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and slight disbelief, “damn,” you muttered, glancing at the crowd, “he sure is famous.”

“And a player,” added Jungwon. 

“And an asshole,” quipped Karina, arms crossed over her chest. 

You had told them, of course you did, and watching them get so enraged on behalf of you did make you feel tons better, which shouldn’t have been the case since they did threaten to chop Jake’s dick off, but hey, the way Karina said it was quite comical. 

Down on the field Jay spotted Jungwon in the stands and lifted his hand in a casual wave with a clueless grin on his face like nothing in the world was wrong. Jungwon just stared back with his jaw tight, not waving back as he was convinced Jay already knew about the bet and was somehow backing Jake up, and the thought made his expression go hard.

You nudged Jungwon’s side with your elbow, keeping your voice low, “c’mon, be normal, wave back or he’s gonna think something’s weird.”

Jungwon let out a reluctant huff, but he finally lifted his hand and gave a small, stiff wave. Jay’s grin widened like nothing had happened at all, and he turned back to the field, completely oblivious.

Karina groaned beside you, pulling her knees up to her chest against the wind, “I still can’t believe we’re freezing our asses off here when we could be on your couch watching Harry Potter for the nth time.”

You let out a small laugh despite everything, the sound almost swallowed by the growing roar of the crowd as the teams lined up, “you said you’d come for moral support.”

“Yeah, well, moral support is currently questioning every life choice that led me here,” she muttered, but there was a reluctant smile tugging at her lips anyway, “at least the view isn’t completely terrible.”

The whistle blew and the game kicked off in a whirlwind of motion. You tried to follow the ball, the quick passes, the way the players cut across the pitch, but your eyes kept drifting back to Jake. He moved with this radiant energy that pulled focus without even trying, hair whipping in the wind, legs eating up the grass, every sprint full of that effortless, captivating drive. The crowd’s cheers rose and fell in effervescent waves, but you didn’t feel any better, still suffering with that familiar push-pull of suspicion and something warmer you really didn’t wish to name.

The first half was all back-and-forth tension, both teams trading chances without anyone breaking through. Jungwon kept up a quiet running commentary under his breath, trying to keep things light, while Karina complained about the cold seeping through her jacket and how much better butterbeer would taste than the lukewarm soda they were selling. You nodded along, but your attention stayed glued to Jake, much to your friends’ dismay. Every time he glanced toward the stands, even mid-run, your chest did this annoying little flip, which pissed you off. 

Then the second half heated up. The score stayed locked until the final minutes, the air thick with anticipation. Jake got the ball near the edge of the box, dodged one defender, then another as he cut inside. The crowd held its breath as he struck it clean, a powerful curving shot that sailed straight into the top corner, past the keeper’s desperate reach.

The stadium lit up into celebration but Jake didn’t celebrate with the team right away. He turned straight toward the stands, eyes scanning until they found you. Then he pointed, right at you, his whole face breaking into this bright, almost whimsical smile as he jogged backward, arm still extended like he was making sure the entire world knew exactly who that goal was for. His jersey had ridden up in the sprint, revealing the sharp, glistening lines of his abs under the stadium lights, every defined ridge catching the late afternoon sun for a fleeting second before the fabric fell back down.

Your heart raced, oh that traitorous little thing, thudding hard enough that you could feel it in your throat. Heat rushed to your cheeks even as the knowledge of the bet sat heavy in your stomach, whispering that none of this was real. Still, for that split second, with the roar of the crowd and his hair messy in the wind and that radiant look aimed straight at you, it felt too much. Too real perhaps? Too dangerous regardless. The enigmatic pull of him was getting harder to ignore, and you hated how easily your body responded anyway.

Karina snorted beside you, rolling her eyes so hard it was almost theatrical, “oh my god, could he be any more performative? Pointing like he’s the hero in some cheesy romance movie, puh-lease.”

Jungwon chuckled quietly, but his eyes flicked to you with that same protective glint from earlier. You didn’t say anything, just stared down at the field as Jake got swarmed by his teammates, the final whistle blowing and the win sinking in. The crowd was still cheering wildly, but all you could feel was the lingering echo of that pointed finger and the confusing satiation it left within your chest.

Jungwon turned to you, voice low so only you could hear, “so, you’re actually going through with the plan?”

You let out a long sigh, shoulders dropping as you pushed yourself up from the bleacher. The metal was cold under your palms, “yeah, I kinda have to now. It’s the only way to beat him at his own game.” 

Karina stood too, brushing off her jeans with a dramatic huff, “let’s get out of here before I turn into an icicle, you better make him drop down on his knees, babe.”

You nodded, hugging them both, but instead of heading toward the exit, your feet carried you toward the locker room area. You hated this part already, leaning against the brick wall, arms wrapped around yourself against the biting wind, you waited, every second dragging like you were standing there on purpose just to prove a point to yourself.

The door eventually did swing open and you watched Jake stepping out, hair still damp from the shower and curling softly at the ends, a fresh black hoodie hanging loose over his frame. He was laughing at something one of the guys said behind him when his eyes landed on you, causing him to stop mid-step.

For a second he just stared, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into this softer, brighter, almost disbelieving expression. His lips parted, and then he broke into the biggest, most genuine smile you had seen on him yet. It was radiant, boyish in how uncontained it was, his eyes lighting up like you were the best part of his entire day, and it made your throat go dry.

“Hey—you’re still here,” he said, voice warm and a little breathless as he walked straight over to you. 

You pushed off the wall, trying to keep your expression casual even as your heart picked up speed, “you played really well out there. That last goal was incredible, it was the first time I experienced the whole stadium going crazy,” you said, completely ignoring the part where he dedicated that goal to you.

Jake’s smile grew even wider, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He ran a hand through his damp hair, still looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there, “you really stayed for the whole thing. God, that means a lot. I kept looking up into the stands and there you were. I—it motivated me, I can’t even explain it.”

He looked so happy, so openly thrilled, his eyes bright and captivating under the fading stadium lights. The way he was looking at you, like your presence genuinely made his day, made something dangerous flutter in your chest despite the reality of it all. You stepped a little closer, heart hammering, and did what you had to do.

You rose onto your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, letting it linger for a second, “Uhm—I’ll see you around,” you murmured against his skin, starting to pull back.

But Jake’s hand gently caught your wrist, stopping you. His touch was light, almost careful, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he held on too tight, since this did seem like a dream to him. Behind him, Heeseung had paused in the doorway, watching the whole exchange with an amused little smirk he wasn’t even trying to hide.

“Wait,” Jake said softly, still processing the kiss, his thumb brushing once over your skin, “you’re leaving already?”

You swallowed, “yeah. I have an assignment I need to finish tonight.”

He nodded, but didn’t let go right away, “right, of course.” Then, a little shyly, he added, “there’s a party at the house tonight—but if that doesn’t work, we’re having a smaller one at the dorm in a few days. Just the guys and whoever shows up. You should come, I promise I’ll make it worthwhile for you.”

You hesitated, the warmth of his fingers and the hope in his eyes making it harder than it should have been, “I’m not really a party person, Jake.”

“I know,” he said quickly, voice gentle, “that’s why I’m telling you it’ll be chill. No pressure at all, just come hang out for a bit. I’ll even make sure there’s something better than cheap beer. Please?”

The way he looked at you, so earnest and a little nervous, made you feel guilty just a smidge. You could feel Heeseung’s amused gaze on the both of you, but you kept your focus on Jake.

“I’ll think about it,” you said finally, offering a small smile.

Jake’s eyes lit up like you’d already said yes. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You gave him one last nod before gently pulling your wrist back and turning to leave, but Jake’s hand caught your wrist again, gentle in his action, like he couldn’t let the moment slip away just yet. He gave a light tug, drawing you back toward him until your back pressed against his chest. For a heartbeat you felt the solid warmth of him behind you, the faint dampness of his hoodie, the steady rhythm of his breathing. Then he leaned down, one arm slipping loosely around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

His lips were plump and soft, warm from the shower, staying there for a second longer than necessary. The touch was rather unhurried, sending a quiet shiver through you that had absolutely nothing to do with the wind.

“Jake—”

When he pulled back, he bit his lower lip, eyes bright and a little shy as they met yours, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, voice hopeful, like the words were a promise he was already holding onto.

You managed a small nod, heart still stumbling over itself, and finally stepped away. The spot on your cheek stayed warm long after you turned the corner, and you wondered how this game was gonna end. 

CHAPTER FIVE: Soaked and blue balled. 

She gets cold so fast, shoulders hunch up the second wind hits.

She keeps twisting the rings on her index and ring finger.

She has a faint dimple on her right cheek.

She fits perfectly in my ar—

Now, Jake had not the faintest clue where he was going with this, yet he kept on writing under the pretence of keeping all the minute observations in a precise manner for his advantage. He stared at the page for another moment, then shut the notebook and tossed it onto his desk. 

The ever so unforeseeable rain had started hammering against his window, and he watched one single raindrop cascading down the surface before he sat right up, grabbing an umbrella to head out without any destination in his mind. Well, he did have to bring Jay back from Jungwon’s dorm (who was facing this taxing challenge of acting normal around his hyung). It didn’t go beyond that really.

He wasn’t used to this silence and peace, he never really went out in the rain, calling it the perfect time to just play games with his friends. However, it was truly hard to pinpoint what made him rush out like this, only coming back to reality once he reached the lecture hall area. He was about to keep walking when he saw you pushing through the doors with Haechan beside you. Jake knew him, he was Jeno’s friend and also one of the dude who fucked around a lot.

Jake wasn’t any better by any means, but he hadn’t even thought of such a thing in the past eleven days. He simply stopped, watching how your umbrella showed no signs of cooperating in this windy weather, and your shoulders were starting to hunch in the same way Jake had noticed during his half time game yesterday. 

He jogged to you, dismissing any other thought, especially the one that sounded a lot like Jay’s voice laughing at him for being too involved, “hey—wait up!”

You turned around, rain evident on your lashes already, and in that fleeting second, your mind was quick to admit his beauty under the dimness of the evening. 

He lifted his umbrella higher, covering you completely as you lowered yours, the wide canopy shutting out the worst of the storm and pulling the two of you into a small, private bubble.

“Jay’s over at your dorm with Jungwon right now,” he said, a little out of breath, water dripping from the ends of his hair. “He needed some notes or something. I was heading there anyway to pick him up. Come on, my umbrella’s bigger.”

You glanced at your own umbrella, which was flapping uselessly, “I have one.”

“Yeah, but it’s not doing you much good,” Jake replied, stepping closer so the shelter stayed perfectly over you. His shoulder brushed yours as you started walking, “seriously—you’ll be soaked before you even get halfway. Let me walk you.”

Haechan gave you a quick, amused look and muttered something about seeing you in lab tomorrow before disappearing down another path with a wave, making you roll your eyes as he made missy faces, which Jake noticed.

The two of you fell into step under the umbrella. Jake kept it tilted toward you even when it meant his own left side kept getting wet. The closeness was apparent, his arm warm against yours, the faint clean scent of his shampoo mixing with the wet earth and rain. Every time you stepped around a puddle, his sleeve brushed your wrist, sending a small spark up your arm.

For a minute the only sound was the rain. Then Jake spoke, voice low and a little playful, “you know, I was halfway convinced you’d avoid me today after yesterday.”

You let out a small breath of laughter, “I thought about it, then I remembered I don’t own a boat and the campus flooded.”

He grinned, glancing down at you. The way the rain made your lashes look darker, the little droplets clinging to your skin, made his stomach flip, “lucky for me then. I would’ve been stuck walking alone, getting soaked, feeling so sorry for myself.”

“You’re still getting soaked,” you pointed out, noticing how his left shoulder was dark with water. Without thinking you shifted a little closer under the umbrella, your arm pressing more firmly against his.

Jake bit down his smile, “worth it. Besides, you’re warm and It’s nice.” His voice dropped a fraction, “are you always freezing or is it just me that brings the chill?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips curved despite yourself, “It’s the rain, genius. Though you do have a habit of making normal things seem complicated.”

“Complicated in a good way, I hope,” he said, the words light but his eyes searching yours for a second longer than necessary. His free hand brushed yours again as you both avoided another puddle, and this time his fingers lingered for half a second before he managed to pull himself back.

The rain kept falling, steady and heavy, but under the umbrella everything felt smaller, rather warmer, you noticed how steady his breathing was, how the warmth of him seemed to chase away the chill seeping into your bones. He bit the inside of his cheek because in that moment, he wasn’t really acting, the wanton ease you provided him with was too real.

“You’re weird,” you muttered, clearly not meaning any bit of it, and he knew the implication behind it, or maybe it was his maladaptive daydreaming.

The dorm building appeared through the silver curtain of rain. Jake slowed deliberately, drawing the last few steps out as if the walk could stretch forever. When you reached the small covered overhang by the entrance, he lowered the umbrella but didn’t step away. Instead he moved in closer, guiding you gently until your back met the cool brick wall. The overhang sheltered you both from the downpour, but the world narrowed to the narrow space between your bodies and the solid wall behind you.

He was close now, so close you could see the tiny freckles across his cheek, the way his damp hair curled softly at the temples yet again, the faint flush across the bridge of his nose from the cold. His gaze moved over your face with quiet hunger, taking in every detail—the way rain glistened on your skin, the soft flush on your cheeks, the faint dimple that appeared when your lips parted slightly. You looked so pretty like this, natural and glowing in the dim light, and the sight made his throat tighten.

You raised your eyebrow, heart hammering against your ribs, “Jake?”

He only smiled, slow and unsteady, biting down on his bottom lip as he leaned in closer, closer, until the space between you was almost gone. His eyes dropped to your mouth, dark and wanting, then lifted again to meet yours. In that suspended second neither of you were thinking about the bet, about the car, about the game you were both playing. There was only the rain, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the dizzying pull that made everything else disappear.

Right then the dorm door swung open with a loud metallic scrape.

Jay stepped out, nearly walking straight into the moment. He stopped short, eyes widening as he took in how close you and Jake were standing against the wall.

“Whoa, Y/N?” Jay said, a smirk already spreading across his face, “am I interrupting something?”

Your eyes widened in realization and you slipped sideways, ducking under Jake’s arm without a word. You pushed through the door and disappeared inside, cheeks burning, the echo of the almost-kiss still buzzing hot in your mind.

Jake stayed frozen, then groaned hard. He turned and leaned back against the same brick wall, eyes falling shut as the rain continued to fall around him, umbrella now lowered. His heart was still racing, loud and unsteady, the ghost of your warmth lingering against his chest. 

He let out a slow breath, jaw tight. I’m going to kill Jay.

CHAPTER SIX: Jaemin the instigator. 

Jake had only read a few books in his life, only one of which had a plot that truly stuck with him as someone who was never an avid enjoyer of reading literature. There was a line that kept replaying in his mind lately, more often than he cared to admit.

As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen.

Funny enough, it was from Winnie the pooh. 

It isn’t a romantic line, not even remotely, but he manages to fit it into his narrative perfectly, especially during the quiet. Mind drifting back to when the rain had been dripping from the eaves and your back had been against the brick and he’d leaned in close enough to feel the warmth of your breath. The bet had started as a stupid game. Now it felt like the kind of quiet adventure he hadn’t seen coming.

Unfortunately, the distraction followed him to the practice field. 

During a simple change-of-direction drill, his mind slipped again. The ball came low across the turf and Jake planted his left foot to cut inside, making his ankle roll with an ugly twist. It wasnt anything dramatic, just a sharp flare of pain that shot up his calf and dropped him to one knee, breath hissing between his teeth.

Jay reached him first, crouching down fast, “shit, Jake, what the hell? You good?”

Heeseung slowed beside them, still breathing hard, “dude, you’ve been completely zoned out all week, like—really zoned out. This bet is fucking with your head too much, just call it off, man. For real.”

Sunghoon hung back a step, arms crossed, watching quietly, “coach is gonna notice, y’know? It’s not worth it.”

Jake sat back on the grass, testing the ankle with a careful flex, the place already swelling under the sock. Minor, probably, but it hurt enough to make his eyes sting for a second,“It’s fine,” he muttered, forcing the usual half-smile, “just a tweak—I’m good.”

From the edge of the drill Jaemin let out a soft, pleased laugh, “or this is actually perfect timing. Wounded-puppy Jake? She’s gonna eat it up.” He clapped Jake on the back once, “I’ll handle it. You just stay looking all soft and grateful.”

Jay shot him a sharp look, “Jaemin, I swear to God—”

But Jaemin was already jogging off to find you. 

You were stepping out of your last lecture when Jaemin fell into step beside you, which was kind of scary. 

“Jake’s in the medical room,” Jaemin said casually, making your eyes go wide at the sudden voice, “twisted his ankle pretty bad at practice. Trainer’s got him taped up with ice, might even sit out the next game if it swells.”

A flicker of worry did pass through your head, but then you shrugged, “hm, kinda sounds minor.”

Jaemin’s smirk was small, “c’mon, this is perfect for the bet. He’s all vulnerable right now, best time for you to go and play nurse, make him fall a little harder. You’re already halfway there anyway.” He bumped your shoulder lightly. 

You sighed, the worry sitting heavier than you wanted to admit. Pretty bad, he’d said, “fine—I’ll check on him.”

Jaemin grinned, satisfied, “atta girl.” He peeled off toward the dorms.

You told yourself you weren’t going to bring anything. But the cafeteria line was short, and the smell of warm rice and simple broth pulled you in anyway. You ended up with a container of congee, a cold can of the original red bull, and two slightly squished steamed buns. Your hands stayed steady, but your pulse? Yeah, it didn’t.

The medical room door was halfway open. You knocked once with your elbow and stepped inside.

Jake was on the padded table, left leg propped up, ice pack soggy at the edges. His practice jersey hung open, undershirt damp against his chest, dark curls still messy and sticking to his temples. He looked tired—shoulders a little slumped, the usual bright energy dialed way down. For a second you just stood there in the doorway, and Jake’s eyes lifted to meet yours.

He gulped at the sight of you, the way a few strands of hair had slipped loose after class, the small crease between your brows that you probably didn’t even realize was there. You looked pretty like this.

Jay and Heeseung were hovering nearby. The second they saw you with the bag, they exchanged a quick glance.

Jay cleared his throat, lips twitching, “well, look who showed up.”

Heeseung pushed off the wall with a low chuckle, “we were just leaving anyway. Coach wants us back on the field.” He gave Jake’s shoulder a gentle clap. “Don’t be an idiot, yeah?” The two of them slipped out, the door clicking shut behind them and leaving the room suddenly quieter. 

Jake cleared his throat, bottom lip bitten as he observed you walking closer, “I—you didn’t have to come,” he mumbled, flustered all of a sudden. 

“You’re really being shy at me visiting you? Aren’t you the flirt of the campus?” You chuckled, “but yeah, heard you fucked up your ankle pretty bad, figured you’d be hungry.” 

His ears flushed red, “yeah, well—I wasn’t expecting anyone here, least of all you showing up here with food,” he shifted on the padded table, wincing a little, “thanks, genuinely. I was mentally preparing myself to order takeout today.”

You set the bag on the counter, pulling out the container and a spoon, handing them over. Your fingers brushed his, absorbing the warmth of his skin, and he took the food with a grateful smile. 

He peeled the lid back and took the first bite. His eyes fluttered shut for half a second. “God, this is actually really good,” he murmured, “way better than anything I would’ve scavenged later.” He ate quietly after that, the spoon scraping softly against the plastic, but every few bites his gaze lifted to you. 

You dragged the plastic stool closer and sat down beside the table, elbow resting on the edge near his good leg, watching the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the small crease between his brows when he shifted his ankle, the way his damp hair fell across his forehead. He looked softer like this, stripped of the usual energy—which you had grown accustomed to.

“Does it hurt too much?” You asked.

Jake shrugged one shoulder, “throbs like a bitch when I put any weight on it. Nurse said it’s just a swelling, I’ll survive.” He took another bite, then glanced at you again, heart warm at the sight of you going out of your way to be here—even though it stemmed from Jaem’s instigations. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. I know you had a full day.”

“It wasn’t that far out of the way,” you lied, because admitting you’d gone to the cafeteria on purpose felt too revealing, “besides, someone had to make sure you didn’t try to be a hero and walk on it.”

He let out a low chuckle, “guilty, I probably would’ve.” He set the container down for a moment, fingers brushing the edge of the table near your arm. The contact was light, accidental, but it stayed there a second too long, “you’re really something else, you know that?”

You felt the heat creep up your neck but didn’t pull away, instead, you leaned in a little closer, resting your chin on your folded arms on the edge of the table, “eat the rest before it gets cold, idiot. I’m not carrying you anywhere.”

Jake grinned, small and crooked, but his eyes stayed soft on your face. He kept eating, slower now, like he was dragging the moment out. Your eyelids grew heavy. The day pressed down on you all at once—the lectures, the walking, the quiet ache of pretending this was still just part of the game. You let your head rest fully on your arms, cheek against the cool edge of the table, close enough that your breath stirred the fabric of his shirt. Just for a minute, you told yourself.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the warmth of the room, the steady sound of his breathing, the faint scent of ginger and him all mixed together, and your eyes slipped shut completely.

Jake went completely still.

He set the spoon down without a sound and lowered himself back onto the table until he was lying flat, turning his head so he could look at you properly. You were right there—head pillowed on your arms on the edge of the table, breathing slow and even, lashes dark against your skin, lips slightly parted. A strand of hair had fallen across your face. He reached out without thinking, fingertips barely grazing it before he caught himself and pulled back.

Would it make any sense for Jake to feel this unexpected emotion he still couldn’t quite pinpoint? Maybe his friends were right, he didn’t really need to follow through with whatever the bet was about. It really wasn’t worth hurting you, or himself—but then, did you even think of him as someone close to you? Perhaps as a friend at least? 

He let out a slow, shaky breath, and resorted to watching you—the way your shoulder rose and fell, the way your fingers formed a cute fist, how you let your guard down enough for your body to trust itself to fall asleep right next to him. Perhaps it was something small, yet to him, it was grand. 

So, he just lay there, inches away from you, letting the silence settle as his mind spun in circles he couldn’t stop.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Holy stalker

“So, you spent hours sleeping with him?” 

“You’re literally wording it wrong Jungwon.”

“And you almost kissed right outside the dorm—”

“Can you guys stop?” You groaned, but Karina was far from done, she was just getting started actually.

“—you can’t fucking lie to us, like genuinely you were smiling when you came in yesterday and today. What’s next? Fucking him at a party?”

“Oh god—nothing is happening, what is wrong with you both?” You stand up from the couch, turning to stare at both your friends, who sat rather comfortably with their arms crossed.

“This is not nothing, I’m just asking you, what’s the end point? Where would you draw the line, hm? If it requires physicality for him to actually fall in love with you, would you do it?”

Well, Karina did have a point. 

“We’re grown adults with active sex life so, why would that change anything?” You finish, almost defensive. 

Karina’s eyebrows shot up so fast it was almost comical. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, that wicked grin spreading slow across her face, “oh my god, listen to you. Active sex life, babe, you haven’t had dick in months and now you’re out here acting like it’s no big deal if Jake Sim rails you for the sake of the bet? Be so fucking for real right now.”

Jungwon nearly spit out his coffee, “Rina—”

“No, no, let me speak,” Karina cut him off, waving a hand without breaking eye contact with you, “I’m not judging, I’m just saying—if he’s already got you smiling like an idiot and almost-kissing you against a wall in the rain, what’s stopping you from seeing how far it goes? You gonna let him fuck you on the kitchen counter just to watch his ego implode when you ghost him after? Because honestly? I’d pay to see that. But don’t lie to yourself and say it’s all strategy when you’re feeling that way for him.”

You felt your face burn hot, “It’s not like that. I’m not—god, I’m not planning on sleeping with him, okay? I’m still in control.”

Karina barked out a laugh, “look, I love you, but if you’re gonna play this game, at least own it, and you’re allowed to enjoy the ride before you drop him and collect our Paris trip. Just don’t catch feelings and cry to us when the car means more to him than you do.”

Jungwon rubbed the back of his neck, looking equal parts amused and concerned, “she’s got a point, even if she’s saying it like a psycho. Just be careful, I still don’t trust him around you, but you’re always welcome to cry to us.”

You threw a pillow at Karina’s head. It bounced off her shoulder and she just cackled harder, “you two are the worst. Go to class before I actually kick you out.”

They finally dragged themselves up—Jungwon pulling you into a quick, tight hug and muttering, “text me if it gets weird,” before heading out, Karina pausing in the doorway to shoot you one last teasing smirk, “If you do end up letting him hit, at least make him beg first. Love you, bitch.” The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the dorm suddenly, blissfully quiet.

You let out a long breath and flopped back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. Your lab had been cancelled last minute—the TA had blown up the group chat at 8:47 with some excuse about electrophoresis set up not working—and now the whole morning stretched out empty in front of you. 

Too much time to think about yesterday, or the day before that, or—

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, thankfully breaking the train of your thoughts. You grabbed it lazily, expecting another spam message from the group chat. Instead it was an Instagram DM.

jake.sim: hey

didn’t have your number so i figured i’d slide in here like a normal person instead of showing up at your door like a creep 

Your lip twitched, just a smidge, because of course Jake would find your instagram and text out of nowhere. 

you: hi and you still managed to sound like a creep anyway

The three dots popped up instantly, like he’d been waiting with his phone in his hand.

jake.sim: fair actually  listen, random question is your oven working? mine’s been dead for two days and i’m craving something sweet

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering. Of course he had friends with working ovens. Half the football house probably had better kitchens than you did. But he was asking you, specifically.

you: yeah it works why

jake.sim: can i come bake a cake at your place? i’ll bring everything just wanna spend time with you, if that’s cool

Your stomach did a stupid little flip, and you groaned. What have you even come to?

you: sure door’s unlocked if you’re fast enough

Twenty minutes later there was a soft knock. You opened it to find Jake standing there in his black hoodie and grey sweats, hair still a little damp from a shower, maybe. Arms full of grocery bags, and he looked unfairly good, but when he shifted the bags higher on his arm you caught the tiniest wince in his leg. He hid it fast with that easy grin.

“Hey,” he breathed out, staring at just how comfortable you looked in shorts, “thanks for letting me invade, i come bearing burgers to show my gratitude.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to ignore the way his eyes dragged down your bare legs for half a second before snapping back up, “didn’t you say you wanted a cake?” You raised your eyebrow. 

His grin turned a little sheepish, “cake’s the whole point, yes. Burgers are just—extra, i saw you eating this with Jungwon two days back so—”

“So you are a stalker—”

“Just observant,” he finished quickly, stepping inside as you moved out of the way. The door clicked shut behind him and he realized that your flatmates were not home, leaving the place to you and him, “not in a creepy way though.”

You just nodded, as if humouring him, eyes fixed on his hands—which were veiny as hell somehow—unpacking the stuff including flour, sugar, eggs, and well, every ingredient needed for a good cake, before giving you a burger (he got two extras, just in case).

Hopping on the edge of the counter, you unwrapped the burger as he took all the bowls out with you pointing around the cabinets. The room itself was silent but his eyes? Pretty shameless, you’d admit, because his focus was more on your ridden shorts than the flour.

Jake caught himself after a second, lips twitching like he knew exactly what he was doing, “you really gonna sit there and not help me?”

You took a bite of the burger, chewing slowly while holding his gaze, “you’re the one who begged to come over and use my oven. Eyes on the bowl, Jake.”

He laughed under his breath, and went back to the flour, but the glance he stole at your legs was anything but subtle, “easier said than done when you’re sitting right there looking like that,” he mumbled to himself as he started scooping ingredients, movements smooth despite the way he kept most of his weight on his left leg, “pass me the sugar?”

You did so without getting down. He reached past you anyway, arm brushing the side of your thigh, and didn’t pull back right away. When you finally slid off the counter to actually help, he didn’t give you much space, he handed you the whisk and stepped right behind you, chest brushing your back as he reached around to adjust your grip on the handle.

“Easy circles,” he murmured, voice dropping close to your ear, “you can be gentle with it, y’know?”

Be gentle with me—is what he wished to say, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit how much he enjoyed your grumpiness as well, and he was almost eager to find what more you had to offer. 

His hand stayed over yours, so warm and steady, the other settled lightly on your waist, thumb slipping under the hem of your tank top to brush bare skin. You could feel every small shift of his body against yours, the clean scent of his hoodie mixing with the butter and vanilla already in the air.

“You’re crowding me,” you said, dry but not moving away.

“Am I?” His thumb traced one slow line along your hip, “didn’t hear you telling me to back up.”

You elbowed him lightly, feeling lightheaded, because it was odd how he actually achieved to bring out your playful side in what? Fourteen days since his bet started. But it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, “focus on the cake, not my legs.”

He leaned in, “trying and failing pretty badly.” His thumb traced one slow circle on your hip, right where your tank top had ridden up, and your pulse jumped harder. The touch was light, but it felt deliberate, like he was testing how long you’d let him stay this close.

The banter stayed easy after that, but every word felt—crazy. He teased you about not knowing how to bake (you actually didn’t). You told him he was being annoyingly precise for a guy who claimed he just wanted to hang out. Finally the batter came together, perfectly thick, smooth, and chocolatey. You scraped it into the pan he’d already greased, and Jake slid it into the oven without a word. He set the timer, then turned to you, leaning against the counter with that crooked grin.

“Twenty-five minutes,” he said, eyes flicking over you again, “think we can behave ourselves till then?”

You raised an eyebrow, still catching your breath from how close he’d been, “you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Before he could answer, you flicked a leftover pinch of cocoa at his cheek—light, almost absentminded, but enough to leave a small dark smudge, shocking yourself at the easiness of it all. 

Jake blinked, then his grin turned wild, “oh, it’s like that?”

He scooped a small handful of leftover flour from the counter and flicked it right back at you. It exploded in a soft white cloud across your tank top and collarbone. You gasped, eyes widening, and retaliated instantly—grabbing more flour and tossing it at his chest. Another puff burst between you, dusting the front of his black hoodie and catching in his hair.

“Seriously?” He laughed, already scooping more, “you started it, babe.”

You tried to duck behind the island, but the kitchen was tiny and he was faster, even with the slight limp. He caught you around the waist mid-step, pulling you back as he flung another handful. Flour went everywhere—exploding in soft bursts across your arms, your hair, the counter. You twisted in his hold, laughing despite yourself, and managed to smear a streak of cocoa down his cheek before he spun you again.

He couldn’t explain it, but having you laugh so freely in his presence—him making you laugh, yeah, it felt pretty damn good, and this smile was way better than you had given Jungwon in the earlier days of Jake chasing you—not that he was comparing (he was).

Your back hit the edge of the counter, both of you breathing harder now, covered in white powder and cocoa streaks. His hands stayed locked on your waist, thumbs pressing in, meanwhile yours ended up fisted in the front of his hoodie, pulling without thinking. Flour clung to his lashes, dusted his hair, streaked across his jaw. Your heart was hammering, butterflies rioting in your stomach, every inch of you hyper-aware of how close he was, how warm his body felt through the thin layers between you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes dropping straight to your mouth, “you’ve got flour on your lip.”

“So do you,” you whispered.

Jake didn’t wipe it away. He leaned in slow, giving you every chance to stop him. Your breath caught again, but you closed the last inch anyway.

His lips were just as soft as they appeared to be, but more hungry than you could fathom, or manage. It felt consuming, the way his mouth moved against yours with this urgency but also a silent battle of him holding back. A low sound rumbled in his chest when your lips parted, granting his tongue the excess it so desperately craved. 

It slid in slow, tasting faintly of the bitter cocoa and flour, your heart slammed against your ribs so hard you were sure he could feel it. Butterflies erupted low in your stomach, fluttering all around hard enough, it made your thighs press instinctively around his hips. 

Bet. Bet. Bet.  

The words flashed sharp in the back of your mind, but it dissolved rather quickly when Jake’s hand slid higher under your tank top, palm hot and rough against the bare skin of your back, fingers spreading wide as if he was trying to cover the expanse of your skin. His other hand stayed locked at your waist, thumb digging in just enough to anchor you against him while he kissed you deeper—slower, learning the shape of your mouth. 

Everything else was forgotten for both him and you. All that existed was the warmth of his body pressed flush to yours, the faint scratch of his hoodie against your arms, the way his breath hitched when you tugged harder at the front of it.

“Yeah—fuck, like that,” he murmured against your lips, “kiss me back harder, c’mon, pretty.”

And so you did, tongue sliding against his in a messy push-pull that made his breath hitch, “you came over here to bake a cake,” you managed between kisses, sarcastic even as your hips rolled forward to meet his, “not to end up grinding on me in my kitchen.”

Jake laughed low against your mouth, the sound wrecked, and pressed his hips forward harder, letting you feel exactly how hard he was getting through his sweats, “pretty sure you started the flour fight, sweetheart. Don’t act like you weren’t waiting for this.” He kissed you deeper, tongue stroking yours in a filthy rhythm while he ground against you slow and deliberate, the friction pulling a sharp breath from you, “there, yeah. Feel that? That’s what you do to me every time you look at me like that, so fucking pretty.”

“Shut up,” you shot back, nipping his bottom lip hard enough to make him groan, then soothing it with your tongue. You rocked your hips right back into his, matching his pace, “you talk too much.”

He grinned against your mouth, that cocky little curve you could feel more than see, and rolled his hips again, slower this time, dragging right where it made your breath catch, “and you fucking love it.” His hand tightened on your waist, holding you steady as he kept that steady, grinding rhythm, “but keep doing that with your hips—yeah, baby, just like that—fuck.”

The oven timer went off, making you realize exactly how much time you’d devoted to this unholy activity.

You both froze, foreheads pressed together, chests heaving. His lips were swollen, eyes dark and glassy, breath hot against your mouth. Jake let out a rough, breathless chuckle, still holding you close, thumb stroking slow circles on your waist like he couldn’t stop touching you, “cake’s done.”

You dropped your head to his shoulder, a quiet laugh escaping you too, “this is insane.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, lips brushing your temple before he kissed the corner of your mouth once, lingering for a few seconds, then helped you slide down off the counter, hands steady on your hips the whole way, like he wasn’t quite ready to let the moment slip away.

It felt too—intimate, not that the act of making out wasn’t on par, it clearly was, but this? It carried more emotion than just your everyday lust. 

While the cake cooled on the rack, he prepared the frosting, letting everything take place before he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a small box of candles, trying to focus on regulating his breathing, and you started with your eyebrows lifted.

“Candles? For a random cake?”

He shrugged, cheeks going a little pink under the flour, “It’s for you, actually. Kinda a thank you? You sat with me after the practice when my leg was fucked, nobody else would’ve stuck around like that. Figured I owed you something sweet.”

You stared at him for a second, because this felt too genuine again, “Jake, that’s—”

“Crazy?” He laughed softly, lighting the candles anyway. They flickered golden in the morning light, “yeah, maybe. But you make me want to do crazy shit.”

You shook your head, the word “dork” slipping out quiet and fond before you could stop it. He just grinned, making you blow the candles, and yet again, you indulged in his theatrics before he managed to cut two big slices, sliding one over to you.

The cake was actually perfect, and it was clear that there wasn’t anything Jake Sim couldn’t do, maybe he couldn’t make you fall for him, but even you weren’t too sure, granted that you’d been smiling, and it wasn’t fake by any means. You took a bite and hummed in surprise, Jake watched you the whole time with a satisfied look on his face.

Then he scooped a bit of frosting onto his finger and held it out, eyes locked on yours, “here—try it this way.”

You leaned in and took it off his finger with your lips, slow. His breath hitched hard, and when you pulled back, he brought the same finger to his own mouth and licked the rest off, shameless and unhurried, tongue dragging over the pad like he was tasting you instead of frosting.

“Fuck,” he murmured, stepping close again, hands finding your waist like they belonged there, “you’re gonna kill me, YN.”

If domesticity with you felt like this, then Jake swears he can give up his parties just to spend an extra minute holding you close to his heart—which never lied. Jake was never dumb, not even now. He had always been quick to acknowledge his feelings, which screamed at him that nothing else mattered in this moment, just him and you. When you started to look in his eyes again, you gulped.

Because all that existed was him looking at you like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Redbull gives you wings 

“The fuck?” 

Jay frowned, staring at his best friend. 

The sight was diabolical to say the least, the smile on Jake’s face despite it all—idiotic. There was no way to describe it, at least for Jay, who couldn’t fathom what absurd war Jake had gotten into to return back home with flour on his hair and body, and wait was that a Tupperware full of chocolate cake in his hands?

Jake didn’t bother with explanations, simply dropping the box on Jay’s lap, courtesy of you packing some up saying how he’d managed to make way too much for a single person. 

With how loud Jay’s voice had been, Sunghoon and Heeseung managed out come out of their rooms, equally as confused.

“Explain,” Sunghoon muttered, sitting next to Jay and grabbing a piece of cake.

“Nothing really, i just went to bake a cake with Y/N,” he managed to let out, still dazed. 

“And she decided to maul you with flour?” Heeseung winced, brushing some power off of Jake’s hair, “seems like you lost the fight.”

“C’mon, she started it, so of course I didn’t stop at that—and things, uhm, escalated.”

Right then, Hoon took a big bite of the sweet, regret clear on his face, nose wrinkling, “what the fuck, dude—there’s a whole patch of raw flour in the middle.”

Well, that batch was put in after the flour fight, which would explain the quality difference. 

Heeseung, who had already taken a forkful, shrugged and kept eating happily, “tastes fine to me. A bit lumpy, but the chocolate fixes it.”

Jay refused to touch it, not being polite in the way he pushed the whole container towards Heeseung, “yeah, I’m not eating that. And why do you look like you just got laid?”

Jake rubbed a hand over his jaw, the corners of his mouth still curved up, “we may have gotten a little distracted after the cake went in the oven.”

Heeseung choked, “distracted, how?”

Jake shrugged, not even trying to hide how pleased he was, “by kissing—a lot, oh god it felt good.” 

Jay dragged both hands down his face, “you went over there to make her fall for you and ended up making out with her in the kitchen? Jake, what the hell is going on with you? You’ve barely looked at any other girl in weeks.”

Jake didn’t answer right away. He just picked up a piece of the slightly floury cake and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully even though it really wasn’t that great.

“I’m thankful though, I can finally sleep without having to hear moans each fucking night,” Heeseung shudders, mind drifting back to how loud Jake and his night partners used to be. 

Sunghoon barked out a laugh, “yeah, we went from daily noise complaints to peaceful silence. Did you catch feelings or did she put her tear drop into the cake batter?”

“Shut up, it’s not like that,” Jake mumbled, though the tips of his ears turning red said otherwise, “and we’re not in Descendants.”

They all just stared at him, till he managed to huff, sitting down on the couch which offered no space to him, dirtying it in the process, “it’s just—it’s nice, okay? I don’t have to be loud or use up all my energy around her, it feels calm to be there even in silence.”

Jay almost gagged, “calm? Did you just change your whole personality cause you’re in love now?”

Sunghoon was grinning, “next thing you know he’ll be holding her hand on campus and calling her baby in public, and trust, I’ll be documenting every bit of it.”

Jake threw a small piece of cake at him, missing on purpose, “you guys are annoying as hell. Can we talk about something else?”

The boys kept teasing him for a few more minutes—throwing in dramatic predictions about Jake turning into a full boyfriend and suggestions to get him a I’m in my soft era shirt before finally letting it go and arguing about tomorrow’s practice instead. Jake just leaned back on the couch, half-listening, the small smile never quite leaving his face.

Because he knew things had changed, and so did you. It was a gradual shift, from you tolerating Jake’s presence to enjoying it (well, some part of you did at least). The idea of seeing him often didn’t make you groan in agony, it felt like a routine granted Jake had your schedule memorized to his bones, and he made it his mission to randomly appear and fall in step with you without making it awkward. 

“Hey, got you some coffee,” he’d naturally say, always bringing the latte, but he did make you try out an overly sweet drink which he fancied, and somehow, you didn’t hate it. 

It was concerning to say the least, your friends being more concerned than you, but of course no one was blind to the fact that maybe Jake was more deep in this than you were, and that bit was not an act, not anymore at least. 

It only escalated when one afternoon, you showed up at his practice session without him having you ask, a cold can of coconut berry red bull tucked in your bag. When you tossed it his way, his whole face lit up and he stared at you with such warmth, it seemed like his eyes were shining. It wasn’t a big deal, right? 

Wrong. Jake knew it didn’t take a lot to do something for others, but you’d noticed his favourite flavour—you’d managed to remember it despite him having not mentioned it. 

He was glad it was break time, cause he immediately cracked it open, “you remembered?”

You wanted to slap yourself for how hard it was to not smile at him, so you managed a shrug, “yeah, not a big deal.”

He stepped closer, still in his practice jersey, hair slightly damp from running drills, and you noticed how they’d grown longer, the afternoon sun catching on the sharp line of his collarbone. For a second he just looked at you, “it’s a big deal when you do it.”

The way he said it was enough to send a warm flutter through your chest that you quickly tried to ignore. You crossed your arms, pretending to watch the team stretching behind him, “don’t make it weird, Sim.”

“I’m not,” he replied, but the small grin tugging at his lips said otherwise. He took another sip, eyes never really leaving your face, and he swore, it was the best drink he’d ever had.

It almost felt like you were flying in the moment, as cheesy as it might be, maybe you’d blame redbull for giving you wings or whatever. 

There were other small things too. He started saving you the quiet corner seat in the library because he knew you liked your back to the wall. You’d gotten him a hair tie when you noticed the length of his hair again, and the second he tied his hair, even you were rendered speechless for a moment. 

The way it exposed the clean line of his jaw and the sharp cut of his cheekbones made something in your stomach tighten unexpectedly. You quickly looked back down at your notes, pretending you hadn’t noticed, oh but he noticed, and leaned in till his nose brushed against yours, “how do i look?” he’d asked.

“Good,” you remember breathing out, making him smile and lean in further, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before jogging back to the field, where three of his friends stood with their mouths hung open. It was a rather comical sight for anyone who watched from a distance. 

At least to Jaemin, it was. He was always lurking around, and no one knew what he was trying to achieve. Jeno could only shake his head standing beside him, but well. 

Anyway, as if that wasn’t enough, Jake would send you random memes at 2 a.m. when he knew you were still up studying, and you’d reply with a dry “go to sleep” that always made him smile at his phone like an idiot. 

Jake had truly forgotten about the bet.

The whole stupid game barely crossed his mind anymore. He wasn’t playing anymore. He just wanted to be around you.

You were trying to bury the memory of the bet deep inside too. Every time it tried to creep up, you shoved it back down. You told yourself you were still in control, that this was all part of the plan. But the truth was simpler and scarier—you liked having him around. You liked the easy quiet when you studied together. You liked the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. 

And that terrified you more than anything.

CHAPTER NINE: Jealousy allegations?

“Are you like a hundred percent sure?”

You sighed, plopping on your bed with ease as you stared at Karina, who’d asked you this question at least, give or take, a million times. 

“Yes, I am sure—gosh, you gotta stop,” you mumbled, running a hand over your skirt, while Karina shook her head. 

“Trust me I have a feeling that something will happen tonight,” she exasperated for the nth time. 

Jake was finally throwing that party he’d mentioned after his game a few days back, and to Heeseung courtesy, it wasn’t a small gathering anymore, but a full blown party at their dormitory which won’t even fit the amount of people he’d invited. 

“What would happen? C’mon, I’m really okay,” you tried to reason. 

“Okay? Girl, you’re practically beaming, and you got ready before I did, is that not proof enough?” She went on, doing her eyeliner by side, “you look hot as hell in that skirt by the way, I’ll be praying for Jake.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. The black skirt sat high on your waist, paired with a simple fitted top that showed just enough skin, and most importantly—you felt confident about yourself, which just completed the look altogether. 

“Whatever. Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

Jungwon was already ready and waiting outside, and so you three went on as they both kept mumbling warnings in your ear, as if a child going outside alone for the first time. 

“Seriously, if he gets weird just text me,” Jungwon said, half-joking.

Karina bumped your shoulder. “Or I’ll drag you out myself. I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.”

You just shook your head and kept walking.

The dorm was loud when you stepped inside, music playing from the living room and voices overlapping in every corner. The place smelled like pizza and cheap beer (of course), the usual Saturday night mess. People were everywhere—some chilling on the couches, others crowding the kitchen for drinks.

You hadn’t even taken three steps before Jake spotted you.

He was mid-conversation with Jay near the counter, cup halfway to his mouth, when he froze. His eyes locked on you and stayed there, dragging slowly from your face down to the skirt and back up again. For a second he looked completely thrown, like someone (you) had knocked the air out of him. Then he was moving, crossing the room in a straight line without saying a word to anyone, and Jay only shook his head with a small smile. 

The second he reached you he pulled you into a hug.

His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand splaying across your lower back, the other sliding up to cradle the back of your head. He buried his face in your hair for a long moment, breathing you in like he needed it. You felt his chest rise and fall against yours, warm and solid, completely forgetting your friends who tried to process the situation from a respectful distance. 

“Fuck,” he muttered into your hair, voice low and rough, “you look—I don’t even know what to say right now.”

You laughed softly against his shoulder, letting yourself relax into the hug, “hi, Jake.”

He didn’t let go right away. His thumb rubbed a slow circle on your back, almost absentminded, and when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes were darker than usual, a little dazed, “you’re actually trying to kill me tonight, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile, “It’s just a skirt.”

“It’s not just a skirt,” he said, voice quieter. His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing the edge of the fabric like he couldn’t help it.

You were about to tease him some more when he finally loosened his hold, stepping half a step back so he could actually look at you properly. His eyes flicked down again, then back up, and he let out a small breath like he was trying to collect himself.

That was when Sunoo wandered over from the kitchen, two cups in hand, spotting you both.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sunoo said, voice bright and easy like it always was in lab, “you actually came. I was starting to think you’d bail after that nightmare protocol we had last night.”

You turned toward him with a small laugh, “yeah, I almost did, Karina basically dragged me here,” you lied easily. 

Sunoo grinned, holding out one of the cups, “here, sprite with lime. I know you hate the sweet crap they make in the kitchen.”

Jake raised his brow, almost ready to scoff because you did like sweet drinks, and whoever this man was clearly didn’t know you enough. 

“Thanks,” you said, taking it, “needed that, the last lab almost killed me too.”

“Tell me about it,” Sunoo replied, leaning casually against the wall, “I spent twenty minutes trying to fix my gel after it kept tearing. Thought the TA was gonna cry with me.” He glanced at your outfit and nodded appreciatively. “By the way, that skirt looks really good on you. Way better than the lab coat.”

You let out a soft laugh, “appreciate it. Lab coat does no one any favors.”

Sunoo chuckled, “right? Anyway, how’s your presentation prep going? You were stressing about the lack of research papers ast class—”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Jake’s hand tighten slightly on your waist. He hadn’t moved away completely, still standing close enough that his shoulder brushed yours.

Across the room, Karina caught your eye from where she was standing with Jungwon near the couch. She raised her brows in a clear what the hell look, while Jungwon just shook his head slowly, arms crossed like he was already bracing himself. Jay, leaning against the kitchen counter with Heeseung and Sunghoon, muttered something that made all three of them glance over. Heeseung smirked, while Sunghoon shook his head again, amused. Jaemin, kicked back on the armchair nursing a drink, was outright grinning like he’d hit the jackpot.

Sunoo kept talking, completely unaware, asking a casual question about the upcoming quiz. You answered easily, laughing at the right moments because talking to Sunoo was just—simple? He was the same bubbly guy from lab who always offered to share notes honestly. 

Jake’s jaw ticked though, he wasn’t happy with this situation at all.

After another minute of the easy back-and-forth, Jake’s hand slid firmly from your waist to your lower back.

“Hey,” he said to Sunoo, voice calm but edged, “mind if I steal her for a second?”

Sunoo blinked, then gave an easy, unbothered smile, “yeah, of course. Nice catching up, Y/N.”

Jake didn’t bother waiting really. His hand stayed steady on your lower back as he guided you through the living room, weaving between people chatting and laughing. You could feel the tension in his fingers, the way they pressed a little harder than necessary against the fabric of your top. He didn’t say a word the whole way down the hallway. The party noise faded behind you, turning into a muffled hum.

The second his bedroom door clicked shut, Jake turned to face you, eyes dark, stepping in close, backing you up until your shoulders hit the door. His hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your head just slightly to the side.

“Ignoring me the second he came in to talk, hm?” He asked, voice low as his breath ghosted over your neck as he leaned in, lips barely brushing the skin just below your ear, “looking this good while doing so?”

You swallowed, “Jake, he was just—”

He cut you off by pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss right under your jaw. You felt his teeth graze lightly, then the warm drag of his tongue.

“Answer me,” he murmured against your skin, voice smug, “what was so funny?”

Your breath hitched, “It—it wasn’t anything, just talking about the lab—”

He simply granted you another kiss, slower this time, right by your pulse. His hand slid down to grip your waist, holding you in place as he sucked lightly on the same spot.

“You stuttered,” he said, the words warm against your neck, you could hear the smirk in his voice, “so fucking cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, even as heat pooled low in your stomach, “you’re actually jealous right now, aren’t you?”

Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, not waiting as he leaned in and kissed you on the mouth—soft at first, almost sweet, like he was trying to shut you up gently. It didn’t last, the kiss deepening fast, his tongue sliding against yours until you were gripping his shirt tighter.

When he broke it, he was breathing harder, “yeah, I am. I don’t like watching you smile at someone else when I’m standing right there.”

You opened your mouth to tease him again, but he kissed you once more, firm, before you could get the words out.

“See?” He muttered against your lips, smirking, “try and be bratty if you want me to kiss you stupid.”

“Jake—” you started, voice already breathy.

He cut you off with another kiss, this one deeper, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a second.

“Keep going,” he chuckled, “tell me how ridiculous I’m being.”

You tried, you did, “you’re being ridiculous. Sunoo was just—”

Jake’s mouth was on your neck again, sucking a slow, wet mark right below your ear. You gasped, fingernails digging in his skin now. 

“Wrong name coming out of your pretty lips, baby, try again,” he murmured, kissing the fresh mark.

“You’re fucking jealous,” you managed to say despite his previous confirmation of the same. Maybe you wanted to hear it again, maybe you wanted to feel the conviction of truth behind those words, the reality of it all. 

He kissed your lips hard, swallowing the rest of your sentence, then moved back down to your neck, sucking another mark lower this time.

“Yeah,” he admitted yet again against your skin, “I hate it—hate how easy it was for him to make you laugh like that when it took me days.”

Your head tipped back against the door with a soft thud. He kept going—kissing, sucking, marking you up like he needed to claim every inch Sunoo had made you smile at. Every bratty little comment you tried to throw at him earned you another kiss on the mouth or a deeper suck on your neck until your legs were actually trembling.

Finally Jake straightened up, eyes hungry. Without a word he bent down, hooked his arms under your thighs, and lifted you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you the few steps to his bed and laid you down.

To have you so close to him was a maddening experience, words leaving his lips with ease, “you’re beautiful, you know that?” 

Somewhere between the bet and the reality, you started getting used to his blatant sincerity he put into words. But this praise? It made you sigh blissfully, eyelids fluttering close despite not wanting to be separated from the sight of Jake getting closer to where you needed him the most. 

He crawled over you, settling between your legs, and kissed you again—slow and deep this time.

“Still think I’m ridiculous?” He asked against your mouth, hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher.

You nodded, breathless, “very.”

Jake grinned, that same smug, jealous little smile, and kissed you once more before moving lower. He took his time with your neck again, sucking fresh marks while his hands worked your skirt up around your hips. When he reached the lace edge of your panties he paused, thumb brushing over the delicate fabric.

“These are pretty,” he murmured, hooking his fingers in them and slowly dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside somewhere, taking a note to pick it up later. 

Then he settled between your thighs properly, spreading them wider. He looked up at you, hair falling messily around his face from the small ponytail, eyes gleaming as he mumbled the praises of your beauty as if he was here to worship your being instead of what seemed to be a punishment for making him jealous. 

“Still got something smart to say?” He asked.

You opened your mouth, but the second his tongue dragged over you, slow and so perfectly warm—the words turned into a broken moan.

Jake groaned at the taste of you, the sound vibrating right against your clit. You reached down without thinking, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head. You pulled it out, letting his dark hair fall loose, then slid your hand into it and tugged hard.

Jake moaned louder against you, the vibration making your hips jerk.

“Fuck—do that again,” he breathed, voice wrecked. 

You did, tugging on his hair as he ate you out like he had all the time in the world—long, deep licks followed by quick flicks of his tongue that had your thighs shaking around his shoulders. Every pull on his hair earned you another low groan that went straight through you. 

“C’mon, tell me how it feels,” he spoke against you, and you groaned merrily. 

It’s not that you didn’t have any experience before, because you did. But never once a guy made you feel like they actually cared about getting you off rather than them chasing their own pleasure. Their flick of tongues did nothing, but Jake? He seemed like even having his whole face pressed against you wasn’t enough, as if nothing could satiate how desperate he was to have not a molecule of space between you two. 

A lot of things were in your mind, but you could only manage to choke out a few words, “so good—baby, it feels so good.”

If Jake hadn’t already lost his damn mind, your nickname certainly made him lose the last few of his working brain cells. The moan he let out was downright pornographic, and you could swear there wasn’t a sound prettier than that. 

You were completely gone, back arching off the bed, fingers tight in his hair, lost in the wet heat of his mouth and the smug little sounds he kept making against you. 

While you were wrapped up in this little bubble of unadulterated pleasure, outside the things were a bit different as Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon stood together, shaking their heads. 

“He really just dragged her straight to his room,” Jay muttered.

Heeseung sighed, “not even trying to be subtle anymore.”

Sunghoon smirked, “a hundred fucking pounds says they don’t come out for a while.”

Karina, standing with Jungwon near the couch, crossed her arms and muttered, “I knew something was gonna happen tonight.”

Jungwon just sighed, looking resigned, “this is exactly what I was worried about.”

Jaemin, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair with the biggest grin on his face, looking far too pleased with himself.

“This is even better than I planned.”

CHAPTER TEN: Bet versus feelings. 

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

The voice seemed to have echoed, because the same sentence was being uttered at the exact same second inside two different dorms, by two different people. 

First being Jungwon, clearly directed towards you once you were done giving your side of the story to him. 

Jake was undergoing the exact same procedure of questioning, causing Jay to scream in agony. 

Things were clearly going perfectly, Jake was in too deep, you were in too deep, all for the bet, right? Right? 

Because as far as acting was concerned, even it had limits, which certainly didn’t include getting eaten out and fingered all night. Cherry on the top was when you both fell asleep in each other’s arms with Jake caressing your back so gently, you learned the meaning of comfort in its truest scene. 

So, why did it feel so easy when Jake kissed you in the morning, when he walked you back home with ease, talking normally as if everything was fine. Your heart broke a little at the thought of him just using you, and trust was a delicate topic for you. How could you even let yourself think that he actually wanted you when the whole relationship of yours was built on a pathetic bet. Which is why, you let yourself fall in deeper, to feel more of his warmth before it ends.  

Before he could ask what was bothering you, a gentle kiss was placed on his lips, “bye, Jakey.” 

The simple fact that you initiated the kiss had Jake smiling like an idiot before you walked inside your dorm, and he left for his own, heart thumping fast, almost in a way that it was synchronized. 

And now you were here, eyes watering in front of your friends who could only pull you in a deep hug. 

“Y/N, just tell him, just end this I swear,” Jungwon mumbled, and you didn’t know what to say, so you resorted to hugging them both till you fell asleep again. 

Jake on the other hand—he couldn’t stop pacing around as the three watched him like a hawk, eyes moving in sync with every step he took across the living room.

Jay leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, looking way too smug, “I told you you’d fall for her.”

Jake stopped dead in his tracks, spinning around so fast he nearly tripped, “I didn’t fall. I’m not—fuck, okay maybe I did, but shut up.”

Sunghoon let out a loud laugh, slapping his knees “you dragged her into your room in front of everyone. You’re on your knees for her at this point.”

Heeseung was already cracking up, head thrown back, “the way you looked at Sunoo? Pure murder like, he didn’t even do shit.”

Jake groaned, running his fingers through his hair, “you guys are the worst. I was standing right there and she was laughing with him like it was the easiest thing in the world. I hate it.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, “you hate it? Or you’re jealous as hell?”

“Both,” Jake muttered, then dramatically dropped to his knees right in the middle of the living room, forehead hitting the floor with a thud, “I’m so fucked. What the hell is wrong with me?”

Jay let out a loud laugh, leaning forward on the couch, “wrong? It’s literally called love, Jake.”

“On your knees in the living room because a girl, you’re not yours by the way, smiled at someone else? Yeah, you’re fucked.” Sunghoon added helpfully. 

Heeseung clapped slowly, “soft boy Jake is real. We’re witnessing history.”

Jake stayed on the floor for a second, breathing hard, face pressed against the carpet. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying last night—the way you’d gasped his name when he had his mouth on you, the way your thighs had shaken around his shoulders. How he couldn’t stop staring at you even after you came down, all soft and sleepy in his bed, lashes resting against your cheeks, lips slightly parted. You looked so beautiful like that, relaxed and trusting, nothing guarded in your expression for once. He’d kissed your forehead then, slow and careful, while you dozed off against his chest. Later, when he still couldn’t sleep, he’d grabbed his diary and sketched you—just the curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell across the pillow, the small peaceful smile you had even in sleep. It wasn’t weird. It was just—you. He needed to remember exactly how it felt.

He groaned again, louder this time, “I’m so fucked.”

“So you’ve said.”

The boys kept teasing, but Jake was already thinking ahead.

He pushed himself up, hair a mess, cheeks still flushed, “whatever. Laugh all you want, I’m gonna ask her on a proper date.”

The room went quiet for half a second, observing him closely to find out any signs of humour or a joke. 

Jay blinked, “you’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Jake said, grabbing his glasses, “I’m serious.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, still amused but skeptical, “you sure that’s a good idea right now? Things are already messy as hell.”

Heeseung nodded slowly, “moving kinda fast, don’t you think?”

Jake just shrugged, the stupid smile creeping back onto his face, “I don’t care, I want to do it right.”

The problem now was that Jake had never planned a date before, heck he’d never even dated before. He knew that something grand wouldn’t work, not right now at least, so when he woke up the next day, he had a few errands to run. Thankfully, he had only one lecture, after which he found himself running around the campus with a list, more motivated thann he’d ever been. 

By late afternoon he found himself standing outside the biotech building, leaning against the wall near the main exit with his hands in his pockets. He knew your schedule by heart now. When you finally stepped out, backpack slung over one shoulder, he pushed off the wall and walked straight up to you.

You stopped, surprised, but the second he pulled you into a hug your expression softened. His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand rubbing your back like he needed the contact more than air, “hey,” he mumbled into your hair.

You smiled despite everything, pressing your face into his chest for a second, “Jake? What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice right now?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, hands still on your waist, “I skipped.”

“You skipped?” you asked, eyes widening a little.

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit awkward but determined. “I want to take you out right now, just us, if you’ll let me.”

Your heart skipped. He was being so boldly awkward about it, standing there in the middle of the hallway like skipping practice for you was the most normal decision in the world. 

You teased, trying to keep your voice light, “what if I say no?”

Jake’s face fell instantly, that hurt-puppy look laughed at you right in the heart—big eyes, slight pout, shoulders slumping just a little like you’d actually kicked his favorite ball into traffic. It was funny how you could compare him to puppies so often and he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Then—I guess I’ll go back to practice,” he said quietly, voice cracking at the end, “but you’re really gonna say no?”

You didn’t know what to say, skipping classes wasn’t really something you did, unless you were sick beyond your ability to stand, however, a small voice within you screamed, skipping once wouldn’t hurt, right? 

You reached out and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, sending a shiver up his arm, “lead the way, Sim.”

Jake’s whole face lit up like you’d just handed him the world, and maybe you did. He squeezed your hand once, tight, and started walking, pulling you gently along with him.

You walked side by side across the quad, the late afternoon sun warm on your skin. His thumb kept brushing slow circles over your knuckles, and the simple touch felt so grounding, so comfortable. 

“Where are we going?” You asked after a minute, glancing up at him.

Jake grinned, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “It’s a secret.”

You raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips, “you’re really not gonna tell me anything?”

“Nope,” he said, voice light and playful, “just trust me, okay?”

From a distance near the science building, Heeseung stood watching the two of you with a small smile, “they’re already acting like a couple,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head fondly.

When you reached the parking lot, Jake stopped in front of a sleek black car you didn’t recognize.

You looked back at Jake, “wait—you drive?”

Jake grinned, a little cocky as he opened the passenger door for you, “yeah, borrowed it from Jay. Figured walking you around campus wasn’t gonna cut it today.”

You slid in, the leather seat cool against the back of your thighs. Jake got in on the driver’s side, started the engine, then turned to you, looking a little nervous but hopeful.

“So, uh, what’s your favourite flower?” He asked, voice casual but his fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel.

You raised your brow, surprised by the question, “Tulip, why?”

Jake let out a small, relieved breath. He reached into the backseat and pulled out three bouquets—a bright bunch of fresh tulips, a classic dozen roses, and a smaller mixed one with daisies and soft white flowers.

He handed them to you carefully, almost shy, “I wasn’t sure which ones you liked, so I got a few options. Just in case, thank god you chose one of those—”

You stared at the flowers in your lap, heart squeezing so hard it almost hurt. He had gone out and bought three different bouquets because he didn’t want to get it wrong, for you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned across the console and kissed him midway through his nervous ramble. 

It was soft and grateful at first, but Jake melted instantly, one hand coming up to cup your cheek like he needed to hold onto the moment. When you pulled back, his eyes were a little dazed, lips parted, that stupid, lovestruck smile back on his face.

“God,” he whispered, thumb brushing your cheek, “you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You laughed softly, cheeks warm, and settled back into your seat with the bouquets still cradled in your lap. Jake grabbed your hand again, lacing your fingers together on the center console like he couldn’t stand not touching you.

He started driving, thumb still tracing slow circles over your knuckles, stealing little glances at you every few seconds like he still couldn’t believe you were here with him.

You were so fucked, and now, you didn’t even care. 

The drive was short, just ten minutes out of campus to a quiet spot by the river. You’d passed it a few times before, always packed with students on weekends, but on a weekday afternoon it was practically empty—just the soft rush of water, a few birds, and the warm sun filtering through the trees.

Jake parked and killed the engine, then turned to you with that soft smile you’d grown to love, “wait here.”

He got out, popped the trunk, and came around to your side with a big picnic basket and a folded blanket. You watched him spread the blanket on a sunny patch of grass near the water, setting everything out with careful hands. There were little sandwiches you liked, fresh fruit, the coconut berry Red Bull he knew you’d steal from him, and even a small box of those chocolate cookies you’d mentioned once in passing.

You stepped out of the car, flowers still in your arms, feeling suddenly shy that was very out of your character, “Jake—you did all this?”

He looked up at you from where he was kneeling on the blanket, eyes bright, “yeah. Figured we deserved something nice, just us.”

You sat down beside him, cheeks warm, and he basked in it—the way you ducked your head a little, fiddling with the edge of the blanket, the small smile you couldn’t hide. He loved seeing you like this, unguarded and a little flustered because of him.

The sun got brighter as the afternoon stretched on. After you’d eaten and talked about nothing and everything, Jake stretched out and laid his head in your lap, looking up at you with those pretty eyes. No big smile this time—just quiet, almost reverent.

You reached down, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head, and gently pulled it out. His dark hair fell loose around his face. You slid your hand into it, playing with the strands, slow and gentle.

Jake let out a contented sigh, eyes never leaving your face.

“You know I have a dog named Layla?” He said quietly after a while, voice warm.

You smiled down at him, still running your fingers through his hair, “yeah? Tell me about her.”

“She’s a Border Collie. Super hyper, loves chasing balls, but she’s the biggest cuddler when she’s tired. She always knows when I’m having a bad day and just—sits next to me until I feel better.”

You laughed softly, “she sounds perfect.”

He hummed, eyes soft, “she is.”

Time passed easily between you. The river flowed steadily nearby, birds chirped overhead, and the sun warmed your skin. Jake told you how he loved singing but almost never did it in front of people because it felt too embarrassing. You told him how you were terrified of roller coasters and how you liked cats because they were quiet and independent. He almost gasped when you admitted you loved horror movies, cause they scared Jake half to death.

“You ever scream at the screen?” He asked, grinning up at you.

“Never,” you admitted, “do you?”

“A lot,” he mumbled, and you chuckled—that sound becoming Jake’s favourite each passing second. 

Jake’s eyes stayed on your face the whole time, soft and full of something deep. He felt surreal having you like this—so close, so willing, so in love with the version of you that no one else really got to see. The way your fingers moved through his hair, the gentle way you looked down at him, it made his chest ache in the best way. It made no sense how you looked so fucking pretty even from that angle, so perfect. 

At one point he reached up, hand gentle on the back of your neck, and pulled you down for a soft kiss. It was slow, sweet, full of everything you both weren’t saying yet. You got goosebumps all over, your body reacting so perfectly to him, to the quiet love blooming between you.

When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “I’m really glad you said yes.”

You kissed him again, softer this time, heart so full it almost hurt.

You could feel how down bad he was—the way his hand rested on your thigh like he needed the contact, the quiet reverence in his gaze every time he looked up at you, the small, content sighs he let out whenever your nails scratched lightly against his scalp. He didn’t say any of it out loud, he didn’t need to, really. It was all there in the way he looked at you.

After a while he sat up slowly, hair messy from your fingers, eyes soft and dark. Without a word he reached for you, hands gentle on your waist as he pulled you into his lap. You settled against him easily, knees on either side of his thighs, and he grabbed your chin with careful fingers, tilting your face down to his.

The kiss was soft at first, full of everything that had been building between you all afternoon. His lips moved against yours like he had all the time in the world, thumb brushing your jaw in the gentlest way.

When he pulled back he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight against his chest. You held him just as tightly, arms looped around his neck, face buried in the crook of his shoulder. You didn’t want this to end, not the warmth of him, not the steady beat of his heart against yours, not the way he made the rest of the world feel so far away.

Jake pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, slow and lingering. You whispered his name, soft and breathless, “Jake—”

He smiled against your skin, the curve of his lips warm and pleased. Then he licked over the same spot, and your breath hitched.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, cheeks warm, “you’re terrible,” you complained, but there was no real heat in it.

Jake’s eyes sparkled with that smug little glint. Before you could say anything else he pulled you back down into a deeper kiss, filled with everything he felt—the want, the softness, the quiet desperation of someone who was completely, utterly, helplessly in love with you. His hand slid into your hair, the other pressed against your lower back, holding you close as the kiss turned slow and emotional, tongues brushing, breaths mingling, hearts beating in the same unsteady rhythm.

You melted into it, fingers curling into his shirt, losing yourself in the way he kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Foggy façade.

It was the third time Jake had rerouted the car to go away from the campus, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, a pout on his plump lips as you pointed out that he was, in fact, not willing to take you home. 

“I just don’t want the day to end, is that so bad?” He spoke so freely and you wondered how he got the confidence to say things like that without sounding ridiculous, his hand stayed laced with yours on the console. 

“You’re literally driving in circles,” you said, squeezing his fingers, “we’ve passed that same coffee shop twice now.”

Jake glanced over at you, eyes bright even in the fading light, “worth it. Every single time I look at you I forget where I’m supposed to be going.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave you away completely, “smooth talker. Take me home, Sim, I have an assignment due tomorrow.”

He made a dramatic whining sound, slowing the car at a red light, “one more hour. Please? I’ll be good. I’ll even let you pick the music.”

You laughed, leaning your head back against the seat, even though you couldn’t deny it yourself, you didn’t wish to go back, “you’re impossible.”

The light turned green and instead of turning toward campus he took another random right, the river still sparkling in the distance behind you. You narrowed your eyes at him, “Jake.”

“What?” He asked innocently, but the grin tugging at his mouth was anything but, “I’m just—taking the scenic route.”

You were still bickering lightly when he suddenly pulled off the main road into a quiet, tree-lined side street and parked under the shade of an old oak. The engine cut off. For a second the only sound was the soft tick of the cooling car and your own heartbeat.

“Jake,” you said again, softer this time.

He turned to you fully, eyes dark and a little desperate, “I can’t stand not kissing you for one more second.”

Before you could even tease him about it, he was leaning across the console, one hand sliding into your hair as his mouth crashed into yours. The kiss was messy and urgent, like he’d been holding back the whole drive. You kissed him back just as hard, fingers curling into his shirt, the taste of the picnic strawberries still lingering on his tongue.

“Backseat,” he mumbled against your lips, already fumbling with both your seatbelts, “c’mon, baby.”

You laughed breathlessly into the kiss, “Jay’s gonna actually murder you if he finds out what we’re doing in his car.”

“Let him,” Jake grinned, nipping at your bottom lip before climbing over the console in that surprisingly smooth way he had. He tugged you with him and you tumbled into the backseat together, legs tangling, laughter bubbling up between more kisses, “totally worth getting murdered for.”

You ended up straddling his lap, your jeans rubbing against the front of his as his hands gripped your waist tight. The humping started almost immediately—slow rolls of your hips that had you both groaning at the friction. Denim on denim felt stupidly good, the thick seam of your jeans pressing right against your core every time you rocked forward.

“Fuck,” Jake breathed, head falling back against the seat as you ground down harder, “even through the jeans you feel incredible.”

You leaned down, kissing him again while you kept moving, slow and teasing,  “you’re so impatient, Jakey,” you murmured against his mouth, smiling when he chased your lips.

“Can you blame me?” He bucked up to meet you, hands sliding under your top to grip your bare waist, “been hard since the river. Watching you play with my hair, looking so fucking pretty, I couldn’t help it.”

The laughter died down into heavier breaths and soft moans, and you fucking loved how vocal Jake was. You kept rolling your hips in lazy circles, feeling how hard and thick he was beneath you. Jake’s hands roamed higher, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts, and every little sound he made went straight to your core.

Eventually you slid lower, kissing down his neck, then his chest, until you were kneeling between his legs in the cramped backseat. Your hands worked open his belt and jeans, and when you pulled him out, his cock was so big and thick it made your mouth water.

Jake let out a shaky breath, fingers gently threading into your hair, “baby, you really don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you said, looking up at him. You nuzzled your cheek against the heavy length first, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along it, feeling it twitch against your skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, low and wrecked. “Look at you—nuzzling my cock like that. So pretty.”

You licked a slow stripe from base to tip, then took the head into your mouth, sucking gently. Jake’s groan was loud, head tipping back against the seat.

“Shit—yeah, just like that,” he panted, fingers tightening in your hair but never pushing, “you look so fucking good with your lips around me.”

You took him deeper, tongue swirling every time you pulled back. He was so thick it stretched your mouth perfectly, and you loved the way he filled you.

“Jaeyun,” you moaned around him, the name slipping out soft and needy.

Jake’s whole body jerked hard, “fuck—say it again,” he groaned, voice breaking, “god, I love when you call me that. Say it again, baby, please.”

“Jaeyun,” you whispered, taking him even deeper, eyes watering a little as you looked up at him through your lashes.

He let out a wrecked sound, hips twitching up just slightly before he caught himself. His fingers tightened in your hair, not pulling, just holding on like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, the way his thighs tensed every time you hollowed your cheeks.

But then his hand slid down to your shoulder, gentle but urgent, “come here,” he breathed, voice rough, “I need you closer.”

You pulled off with a soft pop, lips shiny, and he didn’t waste a secon—he tugged you up into his lap again, hands already working your jeans open. You shoved his jeans down further, wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking him slow and tight while he pushed two fingers into you without warning. The stretch made you gasp, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered against your neck, curling his fingers just right, “all this for me?”

You nodded, breath hitching as you kept stroking him, thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke. The car was getting warmer, windows starting to fog, the cramped backseat making everything feel even more intense—elbows bumping seats, knees knocking, but neither of you cared. You rocked into his hand while he fucked you with his fingers, messy and uncoordinated and perfect.

Jake’s mouth found your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You moaned, head tilting to give him more space, and he took it, kissing, licking, biting down gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. Another mark right below your ear, then one on your collarbone. He was claiming you in the quietest way possible, and it made your stomach flip.

His fingers sped up, thumb pressing against your clit, and you squeezed him tighter in response, stroking faster.

“You feel so good,” he panted, voice low and broken against your skin, “I—I can’t even think straight when you’re like this. I think I lo—”

You cut him off with a kiss, hard and desperate, swallowing whatever he was about to say. Your heart was hammering too loud, the guilt and the want twisting together until it hurt. You weren’t ready, not yet. Not when everything still felt like it was built on something you couldn’t admit out loud.

Jake groaned into your mouth, kissing you back like he understood anyway, fingers still moving inside you, thumb circling faster. You kept stroking him, messy and slick, both of you breathing hard between kisses, bodies pressed so close you could feel his heartbeat against yours.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, eyes dark and glassy, “you’re everything,” he whispered instead, the words thick, “don’t stop, baby.”

You didn’t, kissing him again, slower this time, the act so devastatingly soft, your bodies couldn’t help but react by reaching the peak of unadulterated pleasure you both provided each other with, messy and desperate, but none of you cared in the moment, enjoying the bliss of it all. 

Letting the mess of feelings stay buried under the heat of his mouth.

CHAPTER TWELVE: The forgotten bet

You didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, and somehow hiding in the library was the best you could do to get away from everything you wanted to be close to. Choosing a seat which you normally didn’t opt for was even worse, and the notes in front of you seemed to be in an entirely different language when your mind was elsewhere. 

But someone had this weird idea about the whereabouts of practically everyone in the campus, which is why Jaemin found you sulking in a corner, his smile as bright as ever as invited himself to sit next to you. 

“Bet not going too well, I presume,” he started, breaking your train of thoughts. 

That shit eating grin on his face infuriated more, and there was nothing more you wished to do than punch him at the given moment. 

“What the fuck do you want?” You snapped, not even bothering to look up from the notes that might as well have been written in ancient Greek.

“Relax,” he said, leaning back like he had all day, “I come in peace. Just checking in on my favorite partner in crime.”

You finally glanced at him, jaw tight, “there’s no bet anymore. So, you can leave.”

Jaemin laughed under his breath, spinning one of your pens between his fingers, “sure looks like there is to me. I saw you two at the party,  the way he dragged you into his room right in front of everyone. Then yesterday? Jay’s car parked on that quiet street for almost an hour, windows completely fogged up. Jake came back to the dorm looking like he’d just won the lottery. He’s been skipping practice, smiling at nothing, telling the guys he’s taking you on a date again very soon. He’s in deep, Y/N. Like, actually gone.”

Your stomach twisted. Of course he knew. Jaemin always knew everything that happened on campus.

He leaned in a little, voice dropping but still smug, “you’ve got him right where you want him. One more good date, a couple more nights like yesterday, and he’s gonna say it. The whole i’m in love with you speech. Then you reject him, take the Paris trip, and we both win. Easy.”

You stared at him, chest tight, “you’re actually serious right now.”

“Dead serious,” he said, grin still firmly in place. “This was your plan too, remember? Make him fall hard, then crush him. Don’t go soft on me just because he bought you three bouquets and looked at you with those puppy eyes. You’re winning. Don’t fuck it up now.”

He stood up slowly, tapping the table once with his knuckle, “think about it. He’s already forgetting the car even exists. Finish the job before it gets too messy.”

Jaemin walked off without another word, even though you did scream your answer, garnering the attention of students who weren’t pleased about it.  But yes, he did leave you alone with the heavy knot in your chest and the notes you still couldn’t read.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Too good to be true 

This wasn’t the plan. 

Sitting in the bleachers, supporting Jake, clad in this jacket as if you were his girlfriend. To make things worse, Jake absolutely preened in showing you off, not one care about embarrassment, not when he was the one who had insisted you wear it before the game even started. 

“Looks better on you than it does on me,” he’d said with that easy grin, tugging the collar straight and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead right there on the sidelines where half the team could see. You’d rolled your eyes at the time, but now, with his name printed across the back in bold white letters, you felt the weight of every curious glance from the crowd.

The game was loud to say the least, Jungwon and Karina agreed, but they also silently agreed that your happiness came first, and at the moment, you looked really happy. Jake was everywhere—stealing the ball with sharp precision, setting up plays that made the stands roar, running like the field belonged to him alone. Every few minutes his eyes would flick up to the bleachers, searching until they landed on you. The second they did, his whole face would change. That bright, boyish smile would break through the concentration, and he’d give you this tiny, secret nod like you two were the only ones who understood what it meant.

“I’m not doing it,” you whispered to yourself. 

Jungwon only smiled, “we know—we’ve always known.”

You turned to look at him, “how?” Somehow the question itself made you seem small, especially the possibility of Jake finding out and losing trust in you—seemed way worse. 

“You try to act all tough, but we know how soft you are,” Karina spoke softly. 

“And with Jake? There was no way we didn’t see this coming, you really can’t fool us,” Jungwon added with a dimpled smile, making you chuckle despite the breakdown you were going to have. 

You didn’t realize how heavy the bet felt till you got it off of your chest, eyes watery as you turned to look at Jake in his element yet again, watching how he moved with ease under the burden of the timer ticking. But Jake was really good at what he did, kicking the ball straight into the net as it curled around in the corner left just as the whistle blew in the background. 

You didn’t even realize you were screaming until your own voice hit your ears. You shot up fully, hands in the air, cheering so loud your throat hurt. “Yes, Jake! Go!” The words just flew out of you, completely unfiltered. Jungwon and Karina were jumping beside you, all three of you yelling like idiots. 

Jake didn’t celebrate with his teammates. He broke away from the pile and ran straight for the stands, jumping the barrier in one smooth motion, and before you could even catch your breath he was right there in front of you, chest heaving, that huge, bright grin on his face.

He grabbed your waist with both hands and spun you around once, fast. Your feet left the ground, the roar of the crowd blurring into one big cheer.

“Jake!” You squeaked, laughing but instantly embarrassed as people around you whistled and shouted, “put me down—everyone’s watching—”

He didn’t listen. He spun you one more time, slower this time, eyes locked on yours like the rest of the stadium had disappeared. “Let them watch,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “I scored that goal thinking about you, I want them to know it.”

When he finally set you back on your feet he didn’t step back. He cupped your face with both hands and kissed you right there in front of everyone—deep, a little messy, his jersey was damp with sweat, his heart still hammering against yours, but the kiss felt steady. 

Your face burned hot the second his lips touched yours. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you, phones probably out, people cheering and laughing, but Jake didn’t care at all. He kissed you like the crowd wasn’t even there, like this was the only thing that mattered.

When he finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, he was breathing hard, eyes shining, “I—I, uh,” he tried to find words, but with you looking at him so sweetly, he just melted, “you’re my good luck charm.”

And gosh, you smiled, pecking him softly, reciprocating the exact feelings he’d been harbouring towards you. His teammates were yelling his name from the field, and so he left with a promise to be back soon. 

It’s normal for any sane person to get scared when things feel too good to be true, exactly how they felt for you and Jake, so the flicker of worry didn’t go unnoticed by Jake after the whole team came out. When they came out of the locker rooms, hair damp and smelling like fresh soap, Jake made a face at the idea of the big victory party happening across campus.

He glanced at you, really looked at you for a second, and caught the tiny flicker of worry that crossed your face, clearing his throat, “guys, I’m tired, let’s just go to the dorm and get some food and drinks ordered in.” 

Jake looked down at you again, voice softer just for you, “that cool? We can keep it small.”

You managed a small smile and nodded, “yeah. That sounds perfect, actually.”

He smiled back, the kind of relieved, soft smile that made your chest feel a little lighter, and pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “good, let’s go home then.”

Jaemin, who had wandered over to join the group at some point, grinned wide. Jeno, standing a step behind him, shot Jaemin a sharp look and shook his head once, trying to warn him without saying anything out loud. Jaemin just smirked and ignored him completely.

Jake didn’t notice. He was too busy lacing his fingers with yours again, already tugging you gently toward the dorms. It was new to you, the feeling of being held in someone’s arms—in front of everyone, as if the concept of personal space was foreign to Jake, but did you actually want him to let go of you? Absolutely not, even if you won’t admit it out loud. 

Jake hadn’t let go of you once. He kept you tucked right against his side on the couch, one arm looped around your shoulders, fingers tracing lazy little patterns on your arm like he couldn’t stop touching you. Every few minutes he’d lean in and press a soft kiss to your temple or the top of your head or the corner of your mouth, completely unbothered by the others being right there.

Was it really that easy to fall in so deep for someone within a month? Take yourself for example, wrapped up in Jake’s embrace, it certainly did seem true to some extent. 

“You okay? You’ve been quiet since we got back, was I too much?” He asked, thumb brushing the side of your neck, a worried pout on his face. 

You shook your head just a bit, “I’m just happy, you did so well out there, Jakey.”

He sighed with happiness, all worries gone in a second, “couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sunghoon groaned loudly, “dude, you’re so gone it’s painful to watch.”

Jake laughed, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, “leave me alone, man. I earned this.”

You were about to tease him back when the door swung open.

Jaemin strolled in with Jeno beside him, grabbing a slice of pizza from the nearest box and dropping onto the arm of the couch across from you, taking a big bite. His eyes flicked over the scene—Jake’s arm still wrapped around you, the way Jake was still leaning into you like he couldn’t get close enough. Jaemin’s grin sharpened.

“Damn, look at you two,” he said casually, chewing, “still going strong, huh? So Jake, did you finally drop the L-word on her yet? Cause you have two days left till the bet ends.”

You stilled, staring at Jaemin with wide eyes, just like everyone else in the room. Jeno groaned at the back cause he did try to stop Jaem, but to no avail. But it was almost as if he couldn’t pick up context cues, and so he continued, “you told her about it right? Since you’re smitten now, that’s why you’re together, right?” 

“Jaemin,” Jake warned him, his hold tightening on you, “shut the fuck up.”

Jungwon and Karina were ready to take you back, almost jumping to their feet, but that’s not where Jaem stopped. Jungwon was already shifting closer on the couch until his knee pressed against yours, one hand resting lightly on your arm like he was ready to pull you out of there the second you needed it.

“What? You didn’t tell her?” He smirked, now staring right at you, “well, too fucking bad cause she already fucking knows you’re playing her for a car,” he smirked, leaning back against the couch, finally letting the drama unfold. 

Your chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe. You felt the heat rush to your face, then drain away just as fast, leaving you cold. Jay was staring at the floor like it had answers. Heeseung’s hand froze around his beer. Sunghoon looked like he wanted to sink into the cushions. Karina’s eyes were wide, looking at you knowing exactly how you felt right now—especially after the nights you cried with her. Jungwon’s fingers tightened on your arm because of the same. 

Of course his friends had known the whole time.

You pulled away from Jake’s arm slowly, like your body was moving through water. The walls you’d been trying so hard to keep down slammed back up, higher than before. You felt small, exposed, stupid even. Like every soft kiss, every my girl, every time he looked at you like you mattered had been watched and laughed at behind your back.

You stood up, “I knew it the whole time,” you confessed, observing just how panicked he seemed at the moment, “Jaemin told me everything at the very beginning—how you just bet on my feelings for his car,” you tried to stop yourself from getting emotional, letting a shaky breath out as Jake’s shaking hand held on to yours, “so he asked me to do the same, to show you how it hurts to play with someone’s emotions.” 

His face went pale, and even though he opened his mouth, no words came out, just throbbing pain in his heart, and eyes wide as if he’d gotten punched in the gut. 

Maybe him accepting it would’ve made it better, but for Jake, there wasn’t an option between fight or flight, only freezing on the spot. Everyone stayed silent, watching it unfold and Jay tried to shake Jake’s shoulders, but all he could see was your trust crumpling, and his heart breaking. 

“You—you don’t actually like me?” He asked, voice breaking. 

“I do—I fucking do,” your voice cracked as well, “going through with the bet was not my intention, but what about you, Jake?”

Jake’s hand, still reaching for yours, started to tremble. His mouth opened again, but nothing came out. The guilt on his face was so raw it made your stomach turn. He looked hurt—really hurt, and you weren’t sure how to feel anymore, the hypocrisy of it all sinking in deeper, making everything worse. You’d planned to use him too, you were no better. The walls around you shot up even higher at the absence of words, of reassurance. 

So you asked again, “Jake, was any of it real?” 

Jake finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, broken, “you—you knew the whole time?”

You nodded, a tear cascaded down the curve of your cheek freely, “yeah. I knew.”

He let out a shaky breath, like the words physically hurt him, “and you still—you let me fall for you anyway? You let me get this deep even though you knew I started it for a stupid bet? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The rise in his voice almost made you laugh, “so now you’re hurt cause I knew? After you started the whole thing for a car? That’s rich, Jake.”

Jungwon stood up right beside you, shoulder brushing yours, protective, “Y/N, you don’t have to explain anything else to him, not right now.”

“No, no—Jake just fucking tell me, is it real?” You waited for an answer, to get absolute silence in return, “Jake?” 

You tried for the last time, just to find tears streaming down his flushed face, but nothing came out of his mouth. He was too in his head, cursing himself, cursing Jaeming for letting it happen, but you? How could he ever hate you? 

Wiping your tears roughly, you let Karina embrace you, who kept glaring at all the boys. It wasn’t awkward for them, they felt guilty too, but knew better than to speak up in between them. 

You stepped back, “fine then—I’m done, we’re done. Don’t follow me, don’t text me. Just stay the hell away from me.”

You turned toward the door. Jake shot up after you, voice cracking, “Y/N, wait—please, just let me explain—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, not turning around.

Karina was already grabbing your jacket, “c’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Jungwon stayed right at your side until you reached the door, then spun around, glaring at Jay, “you should’ve stopped him, you knew what he was doing from the start. You let him play with her feelings like it was nothing. What the fuck, Jay?”

Jay looked wrecked, never expecting Jungwon to get angry, “I tried, man. I told him it was fucked up—”

“You all knew!” Jungwon’s voice rose, “every single one of you sat there and watched her fall and didn’t say a word. That’s fucked up—you couldn’t reassure her after she told you everything, huh, Jake?”

You didn’t wait to hear more, stepping into the hallway, Karina right behind you, her hand gentle on your back,“I’ve got you,” she whispered, “just breathe, okay?”

Behind the closed door, it only got worse, Jungwon’s voice only got louder as Jay tried to explain himself.

As the boys gathered to calm down Jungwon, they completely missed the way Jake got up and headed towards Jaemin. Only the sound of a loud crash got their attention—Jake’s fist connecting with Jaemin’s jaw. 

“You fucking asshole,” Jake snarled, his voice raw and broken. Another punch landed, his knuckles splitting open against Jaemin’s cheekbone. Blood smeared across his hand and dripped onto the floor. Heeseung and Sunghoon tried to pull him back, but Jake was swinging again, tears streaming down his face as he cried freely, angry and devastated all at once.

“Fucking get off me!” He shouted, his voice cracking between sobs, "this is your fault—all of it! You ruined everything!”

Furniture scraped against the floor. Someone yelled for them to stop, but it fell deaf to Jake’s ears. He kept swinging, his knuckles bleeding worse with every punch, tears falling fast down his cheeks, until Heeseung and Sunghoon finally managed to drag him back, both of them breathing hard.

Jaemin didn’t care much, he looked rather amused at the situation as Jeno tried to pull him up in furious whispers of urging him to stop being messy. 

Jake stood there in the middle of the mess, shoulders shaking, blood on his hands and tears still streaming from his bloodshot eyes. He looked completely destroyed.

And you? You didn’t look back.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Salvation

So maybe you did jinx yourself for thinking everything was perfect. However, it made no sense to you, or to anyone for that matter. You weren’t an expert about feelings by any means, yet it was clear to anyone with working eyes that whatever you and Jake had was far from fake. 

Why couldn’t he say it? 

You knew the stakes, you came clean to him, and god knows you couldn’t be mad at him for telling you that it, in fact, started off because of a bit. But the silence hurt. 

“I love him,” you whispered, and Karina hugged you tighter at how raw the confession sounded. 

“I know,” she mumbled, “it’s okay, it’ll be okay.”

You stayed quiet for a while, letting her hold you. The numbness had settled deep, leaving you strangely serene even as your heart ached. There were no more tears left. Just this heavy, enthralling ache that refused to let go.

Karina eventually pulled back and brushed a strand of hair from your face, “I’m gonna make you some tea, okay? I’ll be right back, yeah?”

You nodded mutely and watched her head to the small kitchenette. The soft clink of the kettle and mugs filled the room as you sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. 

Karina was busy with the kettle as a knock came at the door, making her pause her ministrations. She walked over and opened the door just a crack, hoping it’d be Jungwon.

It was Jake.

He looked utterly destroyed. His eyes were bloodshot and had started to swell from crying, cheeks still damp with fresh tears. His knuckles were split open and bleeding, dark red smeared across his hand and the sleeve of his hoodie. He was breathing hard, like he’d run the entire way here without stopping.

Karina’s eyes widened in horror, “Jake—what the hell happened to your hands?”

He didn’t even look at her. His gaze was fixed past her shoulder, desperately searching for you, “please,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. Without waiting, he slowly lowered himself to his knees right there in the hallway, bloody hands clasped in front of him, “please, Karina, just let me talk to her. I need her to know it was real, I’m begging you.”

Karina stood frozen for a long moment, clearly torn. She glanced back at you, then down at Jake kneeling on the floor, tears still slipping down his face, knuckles dripping blood onto the tiles.

She let out a heavy, reluctant sigh.

“I—come in,” she said quietly, stepping aside, “but if you make this any worse, I swear to God, Jake—”

Jake didn’t even stand up right away. He stayed on his knees for another heartbeat, bloody hands still clasped like he was praying, before he pushed himself up on shaky legs. God, his eyes—they were red-rimmed and glassy, the golden-boy sparkle completely shattered. He looked like he’d been run over by a truck and then backed over again for good measure.

Karina shot you one last warning glance before she slipped into the kitchenette, muttering something about giving you two five minutes and that she’d be right there with a knife if needed. The door to your room clicked shut behind her, leaving nothing but the sound of Jake’s ragged breathing and the faint drip of blood onto your floor.

You stayed rooted on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tight around your middle like you could physically hold yourself together. Your heart was hammering so hard it hurt. A part of you wanted to scream at him to get the fuck out. The other part—the stupid, traitorous part that had fallen anyway—ached at the sight of him like this.

You swallowed hard, voice coming out sharper than you meant, “what the hell are you doing here, Jake? What now?”

Jake ran a shaky hand through his hair, smearing a thin streak of blood across his forehead, “I don’t know,” he groaned, “I really fucking don’t. You said all that shit after the game and I just—I just froze, okay? I punched Jaemin so hard I think I broke something, and it still didn’t make me feel better. Nothing did.”

You looked away, “so you came here?” 

“Yeah, I came here,” his voice was rough, frustrated. He took another step closer, boots scuffing the floor, “what else was I supposed to do? You just walked off, were my actions not enough for you, huh? I sat in my room staring at the wall like an idiot for an hour.”

You let out a sharp laugh, finally looking at him again, “oh, poor you. Must’ve been real hard.”

“Don’t,” he warned, “don’t do that. You told me you knew everything and you fell anyway. And then you just—left. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

You stood up fast, arms dropping to your sides, “what did you expect? A hug? You started this whole thing. You came after me for a bet. I only played along to fuck you over and now look at us. I’m the dumbass who actually caught feelings, while you couldn’t even admit it in front of your friends.”

Jake’s jaw clenched so hard you saw the muscle jump, “I broke the bet off before the date, Y/N. Before I even took you out. That morning I told Jaemin I was done with the whole thing. He was just stirring shit tonight to fuck with both of us.”

You stared at him, the words hitting like a slap, “you—you what?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I ended it days ago. Because it wasn’t a game anymore, not for me. But you still think I was using you the whole time, don’t you?”

Your hands started shaking, “then why the fuck didn’t you tell me? You let me keep thinking it was all fake while I was falling for you like an idiot? While I was lying to my friends and to myself?”

“Because I was terrified!” His voice cracked, louder now, “I knew the second I said it out loud you’d look at me like this—like I’m the enemy. I didn’t want to lose you and I still fucking don’t. I’m in love with you, okay? Not for the bet or the stupid car.”

You shoved at his chest, hard, but your fingers stayed twisted in his hoodie at the confession. He loves you, and he was never once hesitant to show it till now, “you’re such a fucking coward, Jake.”

“I know,” he breathed, eyes glassy as he pressed closer, forehead almost touching yours, “I’m the biggest coward on campus. But I’m yours if you still want me.”

You yanked him down by the hoodie and pulled him into a deep kiss as Jake groaned into your mouth, hands sliding under your shirt, bloody knuckles rough against your skin, and you could taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips. 

“I love you,” he gasped right against your lips, the words spilling out shaky between kisses, “fuck, I love you—”

You whined into his mouth at how freely he said it now. Jake had always been truthful to his feelings, while you’d been insecure, which is why you couldn’t do much but kiss him back, hoping that it’ll show how you reciprocate the feelings. 

The sharp tang of blood hit your tongue when his injured knuckle brushed your jaw. You pulled back, breathing hard, eyes dropping to his right hand. Only that one knuckle was split open, still seeping a thin line of red.

“Jake,” you muttered, fingers wrapping around his wrist gently and turning it over, “you’re still bleeding.”

He tried to pull you back in, eyes dark and hazy, “don’t care—”

“I do.” You slid off his lap before he could argue, legs a little unsteady as you crossed to the shelf by your desk. Your hands shook slightly when you grabbed the antiseptic wipes, a small tube of ointment, and a strip of gauze. When you turned back he was still sitting on the edge of the bed exactly where you’d left him, watching you with this raw, open look that made your stomach twist in the deepest way—cause gosh, he looked beautiful.

You knelt between his thighs again and took his injured hand. The wipe stung when you pressed it to the cut. Jake hissed softly through his teeth but didn’t pull away. He just stared at your face like the sight of you taking care of him was something he couldn’t quite believe was real.

“You’re really doing this right now,” he said quietly. 

“Someone has to,” you whispered, dabbing the blood away carefully, then smoothing ointment over the split skin. Every small touch felt heavier than it should—the faint tremble in his fingers, the way your own heartbeat was slamming so hard against your ribs it felt like it was echoing in your throat. You wrapped the gauze around his knuckle slowly, and the quiet intimacy of it settled somewhere deep in your chest, warm and aching and terrifying all at once.

When you finished he caught your face with both hands and pulled you up into another kiss as if pouring every ounce of emotions he’d ever felt towards you, his lips slotting perfectly against yours, a bit messy with how reverent he was. He even wish to breathe anymore, just accepting the warmth of your mouth as a way to live. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed against your mouth again, the words vibrating through you, “god, I love you so much it feels like it’s in my bones. Like every time I touch you I remember how close I came to losing this.”

You climbed back into his lap, straddling him, and kissed him harder, hips rolling once against the obvious hardness straining in his sweatpants. The friction made you both moan softly. His bandaged hand slid up your back under your shirt, palm warm against your spine, while the other cupped the back of your neck like he was scared you’d pull away.

He broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing ragged. His eyes were glassy, voice cracking when he spoke.

“Do you actually want me?” He whispered, lips brushing yours with every word, “not because we’re both fucked up right now. Just—tell me, if not i’ll just stop. Say it against my mouth, pleasw, I need to hear it.”

Your heart felt too big for your chest, a heavy, aching throb that matched the pulse between your legs. You leaned in until your lips touched his with every syllable.

“I want you,” you breathed right against him, “I want you so fucking bad, Jake. Just you—all of you.”

The second the words left your mouth you grabbed his bandaged right hand and pressed his palm flat to the center of your chest, right over your racing heart. His fingers spread wide, the gauze rough and warm against your skin, and Jake let out this low, broken groan that vibrated straight through you.

“Fuck—baby,” he rasped, eyes fluttering like he was barely holding it together, “for me?”

You’d seen how Jake got during intimate moments, but the way he was acting right now—breathing hard against your skin, you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to handle without confessing all your feelings for the pretty boy in front of you. The fact that he came running so soon, that he wished to clear things up, it was enough. Staying mad at him wasn’t ever a choice when every single cell within you yearned for him. 

“For you,” you whispered gently, eyes never leaving his face. 

He looked stunning to say the least, perhaps the prettiest crier you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. His face was flushed, this beautiful shade of red gracing it, and you couldn’t help but trace your thumb over his swollen lip, “you’re so pretty,” you whispered without thinking twice.   

In one smooth motion he flipped you both, laying you down on the bed and settling between your thighs, his body pressing you into the mattress. The sudden weight of him, the heat rolling off his skin, the way his pendant swung forward and rested cool against your clavicle—it made you shiver. You looked down and saw it, your initials, small and delicate on the silver chain around his neck, nestled right there against your skin.

A soft, involuntary moan slipped out of you.

Jake’s breath hitched hard against your neck, “you see it, baby?” He whispered, his lips—so fucking soft and plush, brushed your throat as he spoke, “got it the next day after our date, been wearing it since.”

“You’re crazy,” you managed to say, but your eyes were shining just as bright as his own, his usual smile stretching, making your heart race faster than usual. 

The proximity was maddening. His chest pressed flush to yours, heart hammering so hard you could feel it through his ribs. The heat of his body soaked into every inch of you, his breath hot and ragged on your neck. He took his time to take your scent in, shamelessly so, doing exactly what he couldn’t when he first talked to you, and swore he was rather drunk on it. 

He buried his face deeper into the curve of your neck and inhaled again, slow and shaky, like he was trying to memorize you, “fuck—wanted to do this when I first met you,” he mumbled, lips dragging along your pulse point, open-mouthed and wet.

You shivered hard, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging lightly, “then stop holding back now, Jake. Touch me.”

He groaned, “yeah? You want that?” His bandaged hand slipped under your shirt, palm hot and trembling as it cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple until it tightened, “like this? Tell me if it’s good, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Feels so good,” you breathed, arching into his touch, “don’t be gentle. I want to feel how bad you want me.”

“Fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking, “I’m gonna show you how sorry I am. Gonna make you feel it with every fucking inch of me until you know I’m yours.” He pushed your shirt higher, mouth following right behind, kissing and sucking down your chest like he was starving, “god, look at you—so fucking pretty under me. Can I take this off? I need to see all of you, baby. Please?”

You nodded fast, lifting your arms. He peeled your shirt off and tossed it aside, then just stared, chest rising fast, “fuck—these tits. Been thinking about them every night.” His mouth latched onto one nipple, plush lips sucking slow and deep while his hand palmed the other one, thumb teasing the peak until you were squirming.

“Jaeyun—shit, that feels so good,” you moaned, back arching.

“Yeah? You like my mouth here?” he asked, switching sides, tongue swirling lazy circles. “Tell me, baby. I need to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“So good,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair, “don’t stop.”

“Won’t stop,” he sighed in pleasure, sucking harder as his teeth grazed just enough to make you gasp, the pendant dragging cool over your skin with every move of his head. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You pushed at his shoulders and flipped you both again, straddling his hips, grinding down slow and filthy against the hard line of his cock through his pants.

Jake’s eyes rolled back, a wrecked groan tearing out of him, “Jesus Christ—yeah, keep going, pretty.”

You leaned down, hair falling around both of you, and kissed him deep, tongue sliding against his, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist, as if no amount of kissing could satiate his hunger. 

You pulled back just enough to look at him, lips still brushing and his eyes were blown wide, chest heaving under you. Holding his gaze, you gathered spit in your mouth, and let it drip slowly right onto his waiting tongue.

Jake’s whole body jerked hard beneath you. A wrecked, filthy moan tore out of his throat as the warm spit landed on his tongue. He didn’t even hesitate before swallowing it down with a shaky groan, then leaned right up and licked into your mouth like he was chasing the taste of you, tongue sliding against yours again, ever so messy and eager.

The absolute joy of being here, so free and filthy with Jake despite everything, had you getting freakier by second knowing damn well how Jake would be thrilled, and he did. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself if you didn’t accept his apology, or if you’d admit that it was a game to you. But seeing neither was the case, he had to take the next step—to show exactly how much he wanted you. 

“So dirty for me, huh?” He smirked, sucking on your tongue, “fucking perfect, you’re mine, yeah? Made for me.”

“Getting possessive already?” You chuckled deeply, licking up his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, confidence boosting by second at the sight of him shivering with your ministrations, “you like it when I spit in that pretty mouth of yours, Jake? 

He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, gentle but playful, giving it a light pull before letting it go with a soft pop, “like it?” He murmured, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief even now, “darling, I fucking love it. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to be this comfortable with me—this filthy.”

You grinned, rolling your hips down against the hard line of his cock, “then stop talking and do something about it.”

Jake clicked his tongue, rolling over so you were under him again, pinning you to the mattress with his weight, eyebrow cocked up, “bossy tonight, aren’t you?” He teased, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

You traced your finger up his spine, grabbing the hair on his nape with a tug that had him groaning, “why wouldn’t I be? You’re mine now, aren’t you?” You challenged. 

“Claiming me now, hm? Not mad anymore?” He caught your wrist, pinning it beside your head with his bandaged hand while his other slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider under him. 

The weight of him was heavenly, you could feel the faint ridges of his abs through his hoodie, the way his heart was slamming against your ribs like it was trying to reach you. His pendant swung forward, cool metal kissing your skin right between your breasts, and the sight of your own initials resting there made you whine yet again. 

“Want me to be mad?” You pecked his neck, “want me to go ask someone else to please me—”

Jake’s head snapped up so fast it was almost comical, “you fucking dare say that again,” he almost groaned, his grip on your thigh tightening, fingers digging in like he needed to remind himself you were really here, “don’t even joke about that shit, the thought of someone else even looking at you the way I do makes me want to lose my fucking mind.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by how quickly the jealousy hit, “Jake—”

“No,” He he you off, voice rough as he shoved your shorts and panties down your legs in one impatient yank, the fabric tearing slightly at the seam. He didn’t care. He tossed them off the bed and settled between your thighs like he belonged there, his big nose brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he inhaled deep, shameless.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes locked on how wet you were, “you’re actually dripping. All this for me, just for me, hm?”

You tried to answer, but the words died in your throat when he dragged two fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness before pushing them inside you in one smooth thrust. The stretch made your back arch off the bed with a sharp gasp.

“Jake—”

“Yeah?” He curled his fingers deep right away, thumb brushing your clit in slow circles. His nose rubbed against your inner thigh as he leaned in closer, breath hot against your pussy, “keep talking. I wanna hear what you wanna say while my fingers are buried in you like this.”

You clenched around him, hips rolling up to chase the feeling, absolutely enamoured with how possessive he was—maybe that’s what you wanted, him claiming you so freely, “you’re so fucking jealous,” you managed, half-laugh, half-moan, “god—I fucking love you.”

It didn’t take much for you to say it, but to Jake, it was everything. 

His fingers froze deep inside you for a split second. Then he yanked them out so fast you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but before you could even protest he was surging up your body, cupping your face with both hands, thumbs pressing into your cheeks as he stared down at you like you’d just knocked the air out of his lungs.

“Say it again,” he demanded, chest heaving and eyes wild.

“I love you, Jaeyun,” you whispered, looking straight in his eyes. 

“Fuck—I love you too,” he managed to say desperately, he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you like he was trying to crawl inside your skin, “i needed to hear that.”

He pressed open mouthed kisses all over your torso, only stopping to take his hoodie off in a go, revealing the faint lines of his abs and the light scatter of freckles across his shoulders. The sight of him all flushed, made heat flood between your legs even more.

He slid back down your body fast, shoving your thighs apart wider. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up even more, his big nose brushed your inner thigh as he inhaled deep and shameless. “Fuck, you smell so good when you’re this turned on,” he groaned, then dragged his tongue in one long, filthy stripe up your pussy, moaning loud when he tasted you, “mine, hm.”

His nose rubbed firm and perfect against your clit as he licked, the pressure making your hips jerk.

“Jake—godd,” you gasped, fingers twisting in his hair.

He looked up at you, lips shiny, eyes dark, “yeah? You like my mouth on you?” He sucked your clit into his mouth, fingers pushing back inside you, curling just right, “tell me, baby, I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel while I eat this pretty pussy.”

“So good,” you moaned, thighs shaking around his head, “your nose—right there, it feels so fucking good rubbing my clit like that.”

He caressed the soft flesh of your inner thighs with his veiny hand, thumb stroking back and forth.

Placing open mouthed kisses on it made it worse (better), and you twitched hard.

Jake’s eyes flicked up to yours, lips curving into a filthy little smirk, “oh? Sensitive here?” He dragged his teeth along the inside of your thigh, then sucked hard, leaving a dark mark right where his thumb had been stroking, “fuck, I love that. Gonna mark every spot that makes you shake for me, yeah? My good fucking girl.”

He didn’t give you time to recover. He buried his face between your legs again, eyes never leaving your face, and just how perfect you looked shaking for him, memorizing every bit of it. 

He sucked harder, fingers pumping faster, nose pressing firm and relentless. “Mhm, cum for me, baby. Let me taste how much you want me right now.”

You came hard, thighs clamping around his head as you cried out his name, pulsing around his fingers while he kept licking and sucking you through it, moaning like your orgasm was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

He didn’t stop until you were whimpering and pushing weakly at his shoulders, over-sensitive and trembling.

Only then did he crawl back up your body, kissing you deep so you could taste yourself on his tongue. His cock was straining hard against his pants, the front completely soaked with pre-cum.

You reached down and palmed him through the fabric. “Take these off,” you said, voice hoarse, “I want to see you. All of you.”

Jake sat back on his heels, eyes locked on yours the whole time as he shoved his pants and boxers down his hips, keeping it on the side. His cock sprang free, thick, flushed dark, and leaking at the tip. He wrapped his veiny hand around it and gave himself one slow stroke, watching your reaction.

“Better?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips even as his chest still heaved, “this what you wanted?”

You bit your lip, heat flooding through you at the sight of him so flushed and bare, freckles standing out across his nose and shoulders, faint abs flexing with every breath, cock heavy in his hand.

“Better,” you breathed, sitting up just a little, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his thick length. 

He let out a shaky laugh that turned into a groan when you stroked him slowly from base to tip, thumb swiping over the leaking head, “love your hand, so fucking pretty,” he mumbled, hips twitching forward into your fist, “been hard for you for so long it hurts. C’mon, get on your back, baby, I need to be inside you.”

You lay back, spreading your legs for him. Jake settled between them, rubbing the thick head of his cock up and down your soaked folds, coating himself in your wetness, being thick enough that the first push made your breath catch.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice strained as he pressed in slowly, making you feel every inch he gave you, “you’re so tight—fuck, just breathe for me. I’ve got you.”

It took time. He worked himself in with shallow thrusts, letting you adjust to the stretch, his jaw clenched tight, sweat already beading on his flushed chest. When he finally bottomed out, buried to the hilt, the fullness made your eyes flutter shut and a broken moan slip out of you.

“Shit, Jaeyun you’re so deep,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard, “you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, “like you were made for me. Tell me when you’re ready.”

You rolled your hips experimentally and moaned, “yeah, yeah—please.”

He started slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you, building the pace slowly with steadier strokes that made your back arch and your moans louder. Every thrust pushed the air out of your lungs, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room.

“God, look at you taking me,” he panted, eyes locked on where you were stretched around him, “so pretty and full of my cock.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, “harder, Jake. I can take it.”

He groaned and gave you exactly what you asked for, hips snapping faster, the pendant with your initials swinging between your breasts with every thrust. His veiny hand slid down to rub your clit, drawing eights on them. 

You were moaning his name, right on the edge, when you suddenly pushed at his chest, “wait—I want to ride you.”

Jake didn’t hesitate, in fact, he was already drooling at the image of your pretty tits jiggling right in front of him. He flipped onto his back, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. You straddled his lap and sank down onto his cock in one go, both of you moaning loudly at the new angle.

“Fuck—ride me, baby,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips as you started moving. His thumbs brushed your nipples, pinching and rolling them while you bounced on his thick length, “so fucking pretty riding my cock like you own it.”

You leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, and started sucking dark hickeys into the side of his neck, right below his jaw, “I do own it, baby.”

Jake’s head fell back, a low moan escaping him as you marked him up.

“You do, just you” he panted, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, holding you against him while the other kept playing with your nipple, “want everyone to see I’m yours.”

He reached blindly to the side, grabbing his discarded pants. From the pocket he pulled out a delicate silver pendant—his initials engraved on it. He had planned on asking you out properly before Jaemin fucked it up, but he didn’t plan on waiting anymore, caressing your neck as he clasped it around you, letting it sit beautifully on your clavicle. 

“Wear this for me,” he said, voice rough as he watched it bounce  lightly with every roll of your hips. The cool metal rested against your overheated skin, a constant little shock that made you shiver, “now say it. Say you’re mine while you’re riding my cock.”

You sat up straighter, rolling your hips deep, warmth blooming inside you at how beautiful the small accessory was, “I’m yours, Jake,” you moaned, looking down at him, “all yours.”

His eyes rolled back for a second, hands tightening on your hips as he helped you ride him harder. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, thumb still playing with your nipple, “keep saying it. I wanna hear it every time you sink down on me, baby.”

You pressed your face into his neck again, sucking another mark there as you rode him faster, both of you lost in each other, sweaty and desperate and finally, completely real.

Jake’s grip on your hips turned bruising, fingers digging in as he thrust up to meet every roll of your body.

“Fuck—baby, I’m so close,” he panted, voice ragged, eyes half-lidded and wild, “I should pull out, shit, I didn’t even ask—”

You shook your head fast, nails digging into his shoulders as you kept riding him, “It’s a safe day,” you gasped, lips brushing his, “I want you inside. Don’t pull out, please.”

Jake’s breath hitched hard, like the words alone almost broke him, “I can’t ever deny you anything, my love,” he groaned, “not when you ask me like that.”

He slammed up into you twice, burying himself deep as he came with a wrecked moan of your name, loud enough to reverberate, hips jerking as he spilled hot and thick inside you. The feeling of him pulsing, filling you, pushed you over right after—you clenched around him hard, thighs shaking, a broken cry of his name leaving your lips.

For a long moment you both just stayed there, trembling. Jake didn’t pull out, wrapping both arms around you and flipping you gently onto your back so he could hover over you, still buried deep, bodies pressed together with no space left. His chest heaved against yours, sweat-slick skin sticking, heartbeat slamming so hard you could feel it through your ribs.

He didn’t speak at first. He just looked at you, eyes glassy and a little wide like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Then he started kissing every mark he’d left on you tonight—the dark bruise on your inner thigh, the ones on your neck, the one just above your breast. Each kiss was slow, open-mouthed, his nose caressing your skin, warm breath fanning over the fresh hickeys like he was memorizing them with his mouth.

You carded your fingers through his damp hair, letting him take his time.

“I was so ready to beg on my knees tonight if that’s what it took,” he finally whispered against your collarbone, “don’t ever make me do that again.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, still a little dazed, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees, actually.”

Jake lifted his head, eyes meeting yours, he leaned in and pecked your lips once, letting it linger before he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed like he needed the contact more than air.

“Brat,” he murmured, the word warm and fond against your mouth, but the way he said it was so full of quiet, desperate attachment it made your chest tighten. He stayed like that, still inside you, arms wrapped around you, one hand gently stroking up and down your back while the other traced lazy circles over the pendant now warm against your skin. 

“I love you,” he finally said, cupping your cheek. 

“I love you,” you smiled, letting him be as clingy as he wanted to be. 

“Wanna make a bet?” Jake asked, eyes gleaming as you raised your brow. 

You laughed under your breath, thumb brushing his bottom lip. “Depends. What are we betting on this time?”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “that I’ll spend the rest of my life proving this was the best bad idea we ever had.”

You smiled against his lips, pretending to think which only made him whine further. But maybe, this one was worth spending time over. 

“Bet.”

MEANWHILE: 

Jay was repenting for Jake’s sins, staring up at Jungwon, who still appeared to be dissatisfied, half pressed against the man who kept on mumbling, “sorry, Wonie. I’m sorry Jungwonie, please?”

Jungwon only huffed, arms crossed tight even as Jay clung to him like an oversized koala, “you knew about the whole stupid bet and didn’t say a word. I had to watch my best friend get emotionally waterboarded for weeks.”

“I tried to stop it!” Jay whined, nuzzling his face into Jungwon’s shoulder, “I told Jake it was a terrible idea at least thirteen times—”

“Fourteen,” Sunghoon and Heeseung deadpanned from the couch.

Jaemin, already sprawled in the armchair rocking a fresh black eye and split lip, let out a smug little snort, “relax, you babies. I was trying to get them together.”

Jeno, sitting on the floor looking two seconds from committing murder, dragged a hand down his face, “they didn’t even fucking know each other, Jaemin.”

Jaemin shrugged, completely unfazed, “but I saw the bigger picture.”

Heeseung threw a pillow at his head, “there were better ways, you absolute menace.”

Jaemin dodged it with a grin, “yeah, but none as entertaining.” He popped a chip in his mouth and asked casually, “now who do I do next?”

The entire room exploded at once.

“No.”

“Fuck no.”

“Touch another person and I’m punching you this time.”

“I swear to God, Jaemin—”

Jaemin just laughed, raising his hands like he was innocent, “fine. Jay’s next.”

The poor guy looked up in horror. 

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Jungwon snapped, yanking Jay behind him like a human shield who only blushed at the display of power, “you stay the hell away from him, Jaemin. End of discussion.”

Safe to say, everything was going to be okay. 

THANK YOU FOR READING

PERM TAGLIST: @jaeminvore @hoondrop @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @deobitifull @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @woniebae @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @ma-riiii @heeliopheelia @haanigurl @kaykay11sworld @glitterjay @skzooluvr @yongbokified @prkhaven @kristynaaah @filmnings @mwahvvis @mintchocoddeonut @s0shroe @onlyticket-home @meowieshibal @in-somnias-world @tokkisluv @choicila @bambiihee @taesnumber1 @yenienha @angelhyuka @heesmiles @enhypens-hoe @loverofmusic0027 @raikea10 @criceofpain @dollhoonki @wonscrchy

perm taglist open! send an ask or comment to be added!

– placing this bc the previous read more messed up –

six: he just self inserted

seven: makeover montage😍😍

eight: LET YOUR TITS FREE🗣️🗣️

nine: who tf is harvard and one letter hyung?

ten: dave and juan🥺 [written + pictures]

eleven: tell us what you know old man👹

twelve: I wanna kick some shins😍😍

thirteen: curby

fourteen: snorting my sorrows away

fifteen: elavatoe

sixteen: plot hole once again

seventeen: sunoo finds out! [written]

eighteen: alpha female raptor

nineteen: FOR FREE???

twenty: grippers and snatchers

twenty-one: ZAYUM DADDAË

twenty-two: velociraptor speaks

twenty-three: happy birthday, here is a gift❤️

twenty-four: meeting the grandmother😵‍💫 [written]

twenty-five: the english to australian translator

twenty-six: love you too hyung🥰

twenty-seven: they’re dating…again

twenty-eight: hentai tentacles

twenty-nine: happy anniversary? [written]

thirty: she’s a fraud

thirty-one: let’s drink the night away!

thirty-two: christian minecraft server era

thirty-three: jay hyung male wife era

thirty-four: YOU KNEW HE KNEW??

thirty-five: SOUND THE ALARM

thirty-six: they flirting

thirty-seven: 3 step guide [written]

thirty-eight: the censored pic

thirty-nine: we good time👍🏻

fourty: kiss me [written]

fourty-one: post-kiss feelings??

fourty-two: paper work. what else?

fourty-three: failed secret dating

fourty-four: b-b-but :(

fourty-five: she’s a fighter [written]

fourty-six: how about…naur

fourty-seven: NO BUTS🧌 JUST GO

fourty-eight: that’s a pervert!

fourty-nine: the devil’s cha cha cha💃🏻🕺🏻

fifty: r.i.p that pus- [written]

special episodes!

baby name website

the many FaceTime sessions

youngmi and her little sibling

ask business proposal casts

being a match maker wasn't something you sought out, if anything it sought you out after all you didn't know sending out your sisters letters would land her, her soulmate. your sister and her boyfriend had gone through their fair share of tests but made it out each time, not unscathed but they made it out.

their relationship made it abundantly clear they chose each other every time—without fail and their determination to better their relationship was something you deeply admired, even being something you would strive for.

however you didn't bother yourself with something as trivial as boys, or anything of the sort. who needed love when you were always accidentally (and sometimes intentionally) matching people up.

this was a constant, even when you transferred to korea's international university of seoul (also known as kiss) into a dorm with your best friend jake who had graciously asked the board to let you room with him and his friend.

you melted into your desk chair sighing out in relief, decorating your new room had taken more out of you then you'd originally bargained, but at last the room was homey—comfortable and exactly how you liked it with the smell of your vanilla candle burning. you told jake you'd meet him at the welcome party, which really you said to have time to wind down before being overwhelmed with new people.

truthfully you were a little nervous to meet jake's roommate, mainly because you knew nothing about him—not even being able to point him out in one of jake's posts if asked.

you smoothed over the dress you picked out after a long internal debate, you paired it with your favourite necklace and a handbag. the mirror stared back at you whispering spells of confidence through you—you peeled your eyes away from the mirror with a satisfied hum.

before you could overthink going to the party any further you put on your favourite shoes and scrambled out the dorm with a little copy of a map of campus.

the air was light, a little cold but refreshing—this was about the time you regretted not bringing something to cover your arms.

thankfully for your goosebump ridden arms the hall wasn't far at all, you eyed the coloured sigh above the entry way "WELCOME PARTY!" feeling a little unease settle in your stomach.

the sound of laughter and music boomed through your body as you stepped through the room, on a plus you didn't have to graze against anyone to get through or else you would've turned around by now, especially with no alcohol in your system.

as if reading your mind a table packed with refreshments almost materialised in front of your eyes, it peeked through the swarm of people and a familiar brown fluffy haired man stood as he looked over the options.

[ NOW PLAYING > CON LA BRISA ]

a mischievous smile graced your lips as you placed a firm hand on his shoulder, making the taller boy stiffen with a subtle rise of his shoulders, he turned his head—eyebrows raised until they settled on you a familiar adoring boyish smile taking over his features.

"y/n!!" jake gasped pulling you into a hug "jake!" you returned against his shoulder, "you look amazing y/n!" he spoke over the music, you laughed complimenting his own outfit before you caught him up on the details of your journey, not noticing a certain blonde watching the exchange.

jungwon raised an eyebrow a smirk playing on his lips watching his friend talk to a girl he couldn't quite see behind him, he walked over as you got distracted with someone asking you about your dress, "i didn't know you had a girlfriend" he joked hush against his ear, eyes drifting over the back of your head, jake shook his head shooting him a eyeroll.

he snaked an arm around your shoulder as you finished your exchange pulling you so your shoulder bumped his, "this is our new roommate y/n" he beamed to jungwon.

your eyes fell him, his fell on you. for a split second you felt a tightness in your eyes—like they wanted to cry for you, like someone had wiped your memories of someone dear to you but your body still knew who he was—he felt so achingly familiar.

with your eyes full of wonder boring into each other you spoke together.

"have we met?".

you watched his lips curl, your own doing the same with no protest, his eyebrows furrowed looking over you as if he was trying to figure you out right there, or try to understand why his heart was beating faster, louder in his ears.

he looked like someone your eyes could fall to easily as your mind wandered into different realms, someone your eyes could find peace in as you thought of places you couldn't recall if asked.

the type of man you'd see on the front of a magazine wearing various designer pieces. only here he was sporting a black jacket with a white undershirt and grey baggy cargos. he knew how to dress, perfectly at that.

he didn't know what he expected when jake had asked him if you could move into their dorms, he just knows he did not expect you. not you with your eyes or your face that would leave people wondering who you were.

he smiled soft and polite "nice to meet you, i'm jungwon", you returned the smile, tilting your head "you too, i'm y/n".

he automatically repeated your name in his head over and over as if he was trying to ingrain your words into the corners of his mind—his brain short circuited when he realised what it was doing. you however didn't see any of this, just a stiffer smile than before and a little nod.

jake looked between the two of you trying to figure out why such a small exchange felt like it had an underlying secret under it. he grabbed a cup for each of you with some liquid sloshing around and pulled it around your shoulders in front of you.

you thanked him with a grin taking a long sip of the mystery substance, the taste of cherry and a liqueur you couldn't name sliding down your throat with a burn, you scrunched your nose giving your friend a nod of approval, your eyes flicked over to the pretty blonde watching his own reaction.

he also scrunched his nose in something between disgust and approval, approval not for the taste but for the alcohol. you all laughed together in uncertain familiarity, warmth seeped through your body, a comforting feeling—a hope for this feeling to continue.

after some time wandering around the room catching up with jake you caught the sight of a well dressed lady your age walking your way, "hii killer dress!, i'm yuri!" she spoke enthusiastically with an american accent eyeing you up and down.

"hi! you too, i'm y/n" you replied as she beamed proceeding to ask you the details of the dress, the discussion quickly switching to uni life "my mom is a professor here" she explained with a point towards the centre of the room towards a tall woman laughing comfortably into a taller man.

after a lot of getting to know your new friend and finding out she had mutual friends with yours, your social battery felt worn out and old wanting nothing more than to teleport home into comfy clothes and a cup of tea heating your palms, you bid your goodbyes to yuri and turned to let jake know you were going to turn in for the night. "we were just about to ask you if you wanted to go home" he replied as his eyes darted around looking for his friend around the hall.

you spotted him first next to the door with a tall black haired boy you'd later know as park sunghoon.

you nudged your friend and dragged your eyes back to where jungwon stood with a pointed look, he gave you a appreciative nod and motioned you to follow him through the wave of people who seemed to spawn in as you were leaving, you for one were thankful everyone came later.

"yo jungwon you coming?" jake asked as he dapped up the mystery man, "yeah" he replied eyes darting between you, the taller mans eyes followed jungwon's landing on you with a charming smile.

"hi, i'm sunghoon" he spoke clearly, you mimicked his smile feeling their eyes taking you in.

"hey, i'm y/n" you returned, he sent jake a look you had seen between friends many times, the slight eyebrow raise, the flick at the corner of his lips. jake raised an eyebrow as if to say don't even think about it.

jungwon unintentionally pulled you out of your thoughts with a cough, "alright we should get going" he spoke angling himself towards the door.

[ NOW PLAYING > NEW KIND OF LOVE ]

you let out a sigh you didn't realise you were holding in as you slipped off your shoes and placed them by the others. "tired?" jake sent a comforting smile placing his own by yours. "i have a couple hours left in me".

"good you should come watch a movie with us" he spoke as you led him through the dorm to your room "roommate bonding" he added with a laugh, you hummed placing your bag in it's new home—laying out your pyjamas for the night. "sure, why not" you smiled turning to face him, only to see both your roommates in front of your door frame.

their eyes gawked over the transformation of the once bare room, now filled with.. well you. "this is so comfy" jake exhaled sinking into a beanbag in the corner of your room. "i outdid myself" you replied playfully, jungwon also looked over your room taking in all your interests with slightly widened eyes before they landed on you. "movie in 30?" he asked you both leaning against your door, you both agreed before they dispersed into their own rooms to shower.

the hot water ran over your body like a blanket of comfort as your mind wandered to the first meeting with the blonde boy. you didn't mean it to, if anything you'd tried willing yourself to stop thinking about something you couldn't explain. after all the only explanation you could think of was temporary insanity.

he was a stranger not even 2 hours ago and now? he was your roommate, your pretty head fuck of a roommate and all he had done was look at you. you shook your head comically as a scoff left your lips at the invasive thought and with that you pushed it to the corners of your mind opting to forget about it completely.

unbeknownst to you jungwon's brain was fighting him about the same topic—a string of confusion clouding his usually clear mind, he too chose ignorance.

after drying yourself off and changing into your pyjamas—you opened your door and walked towards the kitchen. jungwon stood by the counter pouring hot water into a mug, his hair freshly washed—a slightly oversized black tee clinging to his body and grey sweats hanging off his hips.

you walked over and grabbed your own mug from the side before settling in step beside him. "hey" you said as you switched the kettle on, he looked over to you, almost like he'd forgotten you'd be here—or at least that's what you thought.

"hey, tea?" he said softly. "yeah how'd you know?" you replied before grabbing a tea-bag and sugar, "just a hunch" he slid closer to you—tilting his cup to show you the contents of the cup, the heat and scent tickling your nose.

"you have good taste" you smiled flicking the teabag into the bin, with his back to the counter he leant against it studying your movements. "so do you" his cat eyes still held the same familiarity you met him with now a curious arch to his brows.

you mirrored his movements leaning against the counter as the steam swirled into the air. "what movie do you want to watch?" he asked "hmm i'll let you and jake decide for today, see if you guys have what it takes" you playfully spoke, he let out an unguarded laugh and for a split second your mind tumbled into a eery silence—only that laugh spinning through you.

"i guess we can't fuck up then" he replied playfully checking the heat of his tea. "i guess not" your lips curled as your eyes met for a few more seconds than either of you intended, you looked deep into each other as if you expected the answers to reveal themselves to you.

you peeled them away first with a polite smile not catching his eyes lingering on you even after you turned.

jake slipped into the room with an exhale and a towel on his head, his eyes fell on you both "hey guys" he grinned lazily rubbing the towel into his damp hair.

he slid in next to you as you replied with your head knocking into his shoulder, "you and your tea obsessions" he scoffed with a ruffle to your hair, you slid away with a huff fixing the strands. jungwon watched in amusement but also something deeper, something he couldn't admit even to himself, a sense of longing—wanting to be closer, the thought was pushed away almost as quickly as it entered his mind.

you pushed yourself onto the counter and sipped on your tea as jake discussed movie options with jungwon. the blonde leaned over into jake's ear, you watched his expression taking a form of delight, his eyebrows lifting, "that might be perfect for her" jake said.

"alright can you fill me in" you looked between them, they nodded to each other, "the conjuring" jungwon looked at you with a corner of his lips twitching up.

you raised your eyebrows with pursed lips before cracking a smile, his lips mimicked your own, dimples peeking through.

you watched for a second, just enough time that it wasn't noticeable or so you thought, that dimple had the power to short circuit your brain, you just didn't know it yet. right now all you could think was that of a child, pretty blonde, pretty dimples, pretty eyes, pretty smile, pretty.

he watched your eyes do that thing he saw earlier, the split second of big wide eyes with thoughts running through them at a million miles per hour and then without warning it all stopped as though you were keeping yourself in check, what he didn't notice was himself doing the same.

"did he tell you it's one of my favourite?" you playfully interrogated looking between them "nope just a hunch" he replied with a tilt to his head and a smile as jake shook his head, "-also i saw your books" he added.

you turned your head as a laugh bubbled through you, not seeing how his eyes lit up, his mouth mirroring your own, his bubbly intoxicating laugh.

as your laughs died down jake's eyes caught jungwon's on you, the introvert laughing with girl he met a few hours, a knowing smile graced his lips.

[ NOW PLAYING > CHAMPAGNE COAST ]

you sat in between your two roommates with a shared blanket draped over your legs, your attention on the movie playing in front of you, you got through the movie feeling heaviness in your eyes.

he looked over to you for a split second, doing a double take when he saw your head drooping to the side before hitting jake's shoulder—jake lifted in shock from the sudden weight. he looked over to jungwon, stiffening afraid to wake you. he tried shuffling down so you could be comfier, only to be met with a groan and an arm flailing.

jungwon watched in amusement as jake huffed wrapping the blanket further on you, the movie finished with you breathing softly into jake's lap and legs brushing against jungwon's.

he looked over to jungwon with a small motion to help. jungwon gaped at the sight before him not knowing how to approach this, he teetered forward and blew some air through his nose.

his hand rested against your arm before carefully lifting your legs onto his lap, he pulled you further down as jake lifted your head, you stirred making them both freeze in their steps, as though searching for comfort with a little huff you ended up with your head in jungwon's neck.

he swallowed hard, wide eyes looking to jake as if he could help him, without a second thought he pulled himself to his feet with his arms wrapped safely around you, jake opened the door with a small laugh and peeled back your sheets. he placed you down gently and watched as your lips jutted out in a pout from the lack of warmth.

he couldn't decipher his thoughts—there were too many, for every thought he had about you, your softened features, your pretty lips, your huffs, also came a little voice telling him he's insane, to stop, he listened.

he draped the thick sheets over you before retreating to the safety of his room, mind spinning with ghost of you nestled in his neck.

you cracked the door open with rubs to the eye, a faint sting in your head loomed in the peaks of your head. the two men sat at the kitchen island with cups in front of them, they both looked up, small smiles gracing their lips. "morning" they both greeted.

you rubbed your head managing to give them a morning back, "i don't even remember getting to bed" you spoke as you made your tea, "yeah you were drooling on me" jake laughed loud. you set your cup on the table and groaned "i don't drool!" he laughed louder as you huffed.

"yeah no you didn't, if you did i would've thrown you to jungwon". you brain silenced you at the thought of such an intimate act, well it's normal with jake why not jungwon? you countered to yourself.

it's not the same.

"but jungwon got you to your room safe" he added as he chewed his food, you turned to him and mustered out apologies at that, saying they should've woken you up. he shook his head with a comforting laugh making your eyes meet his and with a rasp to his voice he said "i was glad to, really. besides you looked too peaceful".

you mustered a nod and a thank you not being able to meet his eyes.

"you guy's got classes today?" jake asked as you both sipped your tea. "i've got some induction meetings and then i'm freed" you spoke resting your chin on your hand.

"i've got to be there too" jungwon said finishing his tea. "your dad funded it?" jake asked.

"yeah he asked me to sit in since he can't be there" he spoke impassive. "jake do you have any today?" you asked looking over to him.

"nope gonna be a housewife today" you laughed feeling a little more awake now, the sting in your head now non-existent.

after finishing your tea you changed into some clothes and got ready for your class opting to go without your scarf since it was hiding from you, jungwon was going to your class today—you didn't quite know what to make of this, nothing wrong with getting closer to your roommate that your heart seems to come alive for.

without a word you both put on your shoes with a polite smile between you, he opened the door for you and locked it as you thanked him, you noticed his eyes still looking at you with that same curious gaze, except now it was like he was trying not to and failing.

you fell into step together walking towards the class, now out of the safety of the halls and onto the streets the air was fresh with the smell of rain, colder than yesterday. jungwon stopped in his tracks—his eyes on his phone, you stopped with him, "everything okay?" you asked, he glanced up "yeah, class got cancelled the stand in professor called in sick.. do you want to grab tea?".

"oh, yeah sure" you spoke with a chill running through you.

"are you cold?" jungwon spoke through the sound of birds and the odd car.

"just a little, i couldn't find my scarf" you spoke with a sigh as you looked over to him, his cheeks were tinted pink from the cold, a black backwards cap sat on his head, a red scarf wrapped neatly around his neck.

he immediately stopped walking, you turned to him with confusion written in your brows, he unwrapped the scarf walking over to you, you backed up "no, no i'll be okay" you spoke fast, firm.

"besides our dorm is on the way to the tea place".

"y/n come here" he raised an eyebrow leaving no room for debate, you stood still as he stepped forward, you thought he'd just give you the scarf, instead he looked at the scarf with concentration as he wrapped it neatly around your neck, as if this was the most important thing in the world in that moment.

"let's go home"

his deep red scarf sat comfortably around your neck, the clean scent of him happily invading your nose, you were picking up on his habits, if you lagged behind for even a second he'd slow down without a thought, always making sure doors don't fall on you without making a show of it.

"if you can't find it don't worry, just keep mine on" he spoke as you walked into the dorm, "no, i'd feel too bad" you looked up at him into his eyes for the first time that day, he faltered mouth opening and closing.

"will it make you feel better if i grab my turtleneck jacket" you made a faux thinking pout before nodding.

"that would make me feel better yes" he sent you a sweet smile, dimple hollowing, your heart flipped involuntarily.

you rummaged through your closet seeing no sign of your scarf—you turned back closing the door to your closet, where is it.

your eyes scanned over the room seeing nothing out of the ordinary, your bed with it's usual blankets folded lazily at the end. a slight annoyance tinged in you as you walked back to the kitchen.

"hey, back already?" jake greeted you, "yeah class got cancelled but we're going to a tea place if you wanna come?" you asked as you put your shoes back on.

"i'm feeling lazy but i'd looove if you could bring me grape-ade?" he asked with a cheeky grin and a head tilt, you rolled your eyes giving him a nod.

jungwon walked out from his room, now sporting an olive jacket, he grabbed his shoes and walked over to the sofa as you and jake conversed about something you wouldn't be able to remember if asked later on.

"you ready y/n?" he asked as you finished your conversation, "yeah i couldn't find it but i'm warm enou-".

"if you even try taking it off i'm gonna start wrestling you" he joked as he tied his laces into bows, "i could take you" you laughed with no thought behind the words, he rolled his eyes playfully before gesturing to the door for you to go ahead.

"bye jake!" you waved to the boy, jungwon joined before locking the door hearing a faint "don't forget the grape ade!" you both shared eye contact, giggles falling into the air with a warmth pooling in your stomach.

you'd settled into a comfortable talk of classes as you walked side by side, pushing all the nonsense from yesterday to the backrooms of your mind by force, because this was your roommate and you wanted to be friends with him... without your brain dangling a carrot etched with perfect man over your head.

you had a suspicion of what was happening, you'd had crushes before but quickly came to the realisation that crushes were nothing but a lack of information and you had a habit of falling for the thought of a person rather than who they actually were.

however this wasn't something you had dealt with since you were younger but for right now, that's all you could come up with.

you were brought back to reality when you'd finally reached the warmly lit cafe, jungwon pushed open the door, keeping it open for you as he had been. you thanked him as you both sat opposite each other at the front of the cafe, in front of the window.

he sunk back in the chair sighing under his breath as he pulled the cap from his head, he shook his head softly letting it fall to his forehead. his eye winked at the intrusion—he blew the hair away as he usually would.

you cursed in your head as you let your attention swerve back to the list of refreshments, as if you didn't already know what you wanted.

"what are you getting?" he asked with his eyes already on you, as though he'd been watching. "black tea, you?" you replied easily.

"me too" he tilted his head with a small smile. he watched as you averted your eyes to the window, a muscle in your jaw tightening as you turned your head towards it, his eyes softened as he watched you stuck in your own head—wondering what was going through your mind.

his scarf sat snug around your neck, only he knew who it belonged to. in shadows of his mind you were the water behind a dam, cracks deepened as you leaked through.

you ordered your drinks and talked as you looked out at the life outside the windows, through the background chatter of the others in the cafe jungwon's voice cut through.

"so.. jake tells me your a match-maker?" he started with a mischievous glint to his eyes. you groaned head tipping back, hands covering your face.

"he didn't.. oh my gosh" you spoke behind your hands. "don't worry he barely told me anything, he told me he was catching up with your sister and her boyfriend and about how you matched them up" he laughed softly as his fingers hovered over the cup.

"it wasn't intentional" you started, he encouraged you to go on with a pointed look, "she wrote some love letters and as the curious silly little sister, i sent them.. and they ended up dating for real after fake dating, they've been together about 6 years now" you added watching as his eyes widened slightly at your words.

"that sounds like the plot of a bad romcom" he spoke, eyes crinkling a laugh bursting out both of you at his words, "it really does".

"but since then it seems like i keep unintentionally matching people up, so i just did it when i saw something between people, even when they couldn't see it" you trailed off a small smile playing on your lips as your fingers skimmed the rim of the cup.

"how do you even notice things like that?" he asked with genuine wonder.

"sometimes all it takes is catching a look between people, other times it's been places i spend a lot of time at, like when i was at school i noticed my teachers yearning for each other like they were in a drama, so i put a rose on her desk from him, which got them talking and now they're married" you spoke happily, eyes lighting up at the memories of their wedding.

"wow, you are a modern day cupid" he spoke incredulously as you shook your head with a laugh.

"i'd rather not be, cupid's love story is complicated to say the least" you responded finishing your tea.

"aren't all love stories?" he countered.

"touché" you responded as you both finished up your tea. you ordered a go to grape-ade for jake and walked back to your dorm, sharing more details about your sister and her boyfriend.

you walked in laughing about one of your match-making stories as jake sat on the sofa scrolling on his phone, his ears perked at the noise. you sat next to him after taking off your shoes and coat and handed him his drink, he thanked you with a smile and a how was it. as you told him how cute the cafe was you felt a dip in the sofa next to you.

jungwon watched as you sat back and tilted your head back talking about the cafe, it wasn't much but he noticed it all, in the little time you'd spent together you were becoming a little more comfortable, bit by bit.

you caught his eye as you gestured to jake, he watched as your breath halt when you saw his feline eyes already on you, you pulled yourself together with a breath, his eyes glazed over your face—landing on your neck.

your own followed his and you unwrapped the scarf from your neck before holding it between your palms, "i'll wash it and get it back to you, is that okay?" he looked between your eyes slowly.

"no, it's okay i'll do it" before you could fight back, he read your mind and placed a hand on the scarf with a grin, you felt his hand graze yours, a light tingly feeling bloomed as you felt a flutter in the pits of your stomach.

you both pulled back in silence shifting back to your original position, jake sat sipping his grape-ade looking over with a side eye.

jungwon retreated into his room to freshen up, with his scarf. he hung it up, the scent of you causing him to stop in his tracks, with a shake to his head he left it hung on the hook by his wardobe, with no intention to wash it.

.⭑ˎˊ˗

you had the same encounters, the same shared looks that neither of you addressed or could even admit to yourselves and then you had your first class, with yuri sitting next to you, occasionally making conversation about clothes or class.

that evening you got home and had a shower as usual, washing away any stress from the day and getting changed into pyjamas—then proceeding to the kitchen to make your tea, only to find jungwon sat at the table with two steaming cups beside him.

he motioned you to sit, you raised an eyebrow in confusion as you sat beside him at the island—he slid the cup over while sipping his own.

you'd always been better at showing appreciation physically, with a thank you and a smile—a hug or a head on a shoulder.

so when you placed your cheek on his shoulder with a small thank you, you told yourself it was like how you would with jake, that it wasn't different.

he stiffened not having time to relax—you'd already pulled away, his body missed you when his mind couldn't understand why, he chased the feeling of your body on his without giving himself permission to.

"you didn't have to" was all you could muster with your voice coming out softer than you meant it to, quieter.

"i wanted to" he said back, with the same tone—that same tone that made it feel more intimate than either of you allowed it to be.

you took a testing sip, it tasted exactly as it would if you'd made it yourself—he watched over your expression.

"good?" he asked with a curious arch to his brow.

you turned to him "perfect... thank you".

his smile gleamed under the dim orange lamps scattered around the dorm, a small shy smile you only saw a handful of times but relishing in it each time.

[ PLAYING NOW > TAKE A BITE ]

he couldn't breathe feeling you against his neck, hot—heavy. your lips ghosting over his ear, he whispered incoherent words in your ear, his hands not touching you—not yet.

he was close enough that his presence maddened you, a slight pull could intertwine you but neither of you dared to cross that line.

"i wanted to see the world in colour, through your eyes and through your mind."

your eyes stung—cold sweat clung to your forehead, you were shaking, you groaned as you stumbled out of bed with your chest burning—eyes darting to the clock on your bedside table, lighting up a green 3:21AM.

you splashed cold water on your face and walked heavily through your door to the kitchen in the dark, without warning the under lights of the kitchen turned on—you gasped loud causing the other figure to jump with you, a startled jungwon stood before you.

his face was flushed, eyes wide, like he'd seen something he couldn't explain.

you let out a breath of relief sinking into the chair, his shoulders also slumped in something between relief and defeat.

neither of you spoke at first just breathing in the shared space, he also melted into the chair next to you.

"you look like you've seen a ghost" you finally spoke after minutes.

"so do you" he managed back.

he grabbed two water bottles from the fridge and slid back into his seat, you thanked him before guzzling down half the bottle.

you couldn't remember much from the dream, only that you were not you—you were watching yourself through someone else's eyes, you remembered they had made you look like you'd stepped out of a romcom, with the dreamy lens and the heart eyes.

you remembered the words.

and even so, you had no idea why it led to this reaction, why you were sat at your kitchen island with your roommate like you just had a life altering experience.

you weren't comforting each other for what you were going through, you were simply living through the same experience, unknowingly.

you were so focused on your thoughts you didn't notice jungwon's hand inching towards you, not until it held your arm—so light you'd think you were made of glass, only until then you didn't realise you were shaking.

you startled before dragging your eyes over to him, he tried inching closer to be able to hold you comfortably but the chair was stuck—he let go of his hold on you to grapple onto the bottom of your chair, dragging it closer so your shoulders touched.

you would've found it hot if you could think about anything other than whoever was with you in your head. his hand came back to that same spot, as if to ground you, he rubbed up and down, the sleeve of your shirt occasionally getting in the way.

without a word you turned, tilted your head and sighed falling onto his shoulder.

the last week scared you more than you could verbalise, you weren't scared of what was happening, more so of the uncertainty—the unknown.

the whys, hows, there was no real explanation to anything that had happened recently, it was all catching up to you after a week of pushing it all down and wishing it'd go away.

you felt him tense beneath you at the weight, he quickly relaxed—sighing into your touch, for a second you thought he was going to pull away, instead he pulled his hand from your arm and wrapped it around you, letting your weight fall on him.

he was telling you without words that you could lean on him, he could take it but all you could think was, who does he lean on?

after some time you tilted your head to take him in, his flushed cheeks, the curve of his nose, his eyes still sparkling despite the clear exhaustion—his eyes locked with yours.

"are you okay?" you asked as if you weren't the one shaking a couple minutes ago, not even realising you'd stopped.

he paused before laughing in fond disbelief "you're asking me that?"

you rolled your eyes, still so close to him, "you don't look too good yourself.. answer me".

"yes ma'am, i'm- well i'm fine—tired i just woke up after a dream" he spoke slow, careful.

"me too" you spoke under your breathe. he nodded finally looking away like he'd seen something he shouldn't have.

"good or bad dream?" he asked.

"i don't know yet".

.⭑ˎˊ˗

you spent most spare moments with those words in your head.

"i wanted to see the world in colour, through your eyes and through your mind."

after that night with jungwon you'd gone to bed with those words echoing in your mind like a prayer, you went to class as usual—one of them was with your roommates.

jake and jungwon had coerced you into sitting with their friends, sunghoon, ni-ki, yuri and her friend juliana, they welcomed you easily, as if you weren't new, they included you when they didn't have to.

after spending more time with them in classes sunghoon and ni-ki decided to come over more, you often found them on your sofa with a smile encouraging you to hang out with you, which you always did.

jungwon couldn't understand why this was happening to him, he went to class as usual, lived his life as usual. only now his heart raced when he heard your voice—he heard you everywhere, he heard you in the laughs of people he didn't know, always turning without fail to see if it was you behind it.

he hated it but he relished in your presence—he'd told himself you were roommates—friends, nothing more.

which is why he didn't know what he was thinking when he'd suggested studying in the library to his friends, of course you'd be invited.

it's not like he was avoiding you, but he'd made it a point to try not be in close proximity with you outside of the dorms. it seemed to have no logic behind it and he knew that but people do illogical things when they're going through a mental war.

so when he saw the flicker of hurt in your eyes when you realised he didn't mean to include you in the plans, he felt his heart squeeze—ache.

it did it again when you excused yourself with a poor lie about being tired—a lie no one else looked into but him.

the hurt sat low in your chest, you started wondering if you missed other signs from him indicating his lack of wanting you there. no matter how much you had tried, you couldn't stop the hurt from leaking into the cracks forming around your heart.

even when you'd told yourself it wasn't deep—that it didn't matter, you knew it wouldn't have mattered if it was anyone else but you found yourself asking yourself the same question of why.

so the second you realised what he had meant, you mumbled an excuse with the most convincing smile you could muster, avoiding his eyes and you walked to that tea cafe, because one thing you couldn't do, was be somewhere you weren't wanted.

that evening he couldn't focus, he slumped in his chair—absentmindedly chewing on his pencil. the odd flicker of pages, the muffled chatters acted as a playground for his mind.

his notebooks were long forgotten by now, jake sat besides him working on some physics equation, yuri on the other side chatting away with juliana as sunghoon and ni-ki sat in front, with all the people he held dear close by, all he wanted was to see you, was to tell you it wasn't that he didn't want you there, he just didn't trust his mind—or heart not to jump for you.

he turned to his friends, "i can't focus, i'm gonna work at home" he muttered to them.

he walked as fast as he could towards the dorms, he needed you to understand—you weren't unwanted, how could you be. the wind ran past his hair with a hiss, the knocking of his shoes loud against the concrete.

he opened the door and walked in, not bothering to take off his shoes, immediately looking for any sign of your presence with his heart in his throat.

no sign of you in the kitchen, living room—anyone's rooms.

so he did the next most logical thing, he messaged you—despite the fact that neither of you had messaged outside of the dorms group chat or the friends chat.

"hey, where are you?"

[ NOW PLAYING > CARDIGAN ]

you sat with your ear-phones in—trying to will the music to take over the noise in your head as you nursed a cup of black tea with a heavy heart.

the emotions you were trying so hard to deny were breaking through without permission but now you'd been let down for the first time, he'd rejected you without words—without even knowing what he was doing.

the stubborn flesh in your head called your brain took it as a deadline, the first pull—you'd unknowingly opened yourself to him without grasping what it would mean—that you had let yourself be hurt, you allowed the hurt by opening yourself.

you hated that more than you understood why. from now you wouldn't allow more, he was your roommate and a friend.

nothing more.

the second you came to this conclusion you felt a stinging in your heart, like it was fighting you—telling you to hold onto the hope in your heart for him to fix this.

your finger twirled around the rim of the cup as you stared off into the life beyond the windows, the lovesick couples, friends—all walked by, serving as a mocking reminder of your situation.

after what felt like hours you sipped the last remnants of the lukewarm tea and snapped the backwards cap closer towards your scalp before pulling open the door.

you walked without looking, not really—your eyes scanned over the cars to the right and the river to the left, which is why you didn't see the person in front of you until their hand was on your shoulder, snapping you out of your daydream.

jungwon stood in front of you, wide eyed—scanning every inch of your face like he was looking for signs of pain, hurt "y/n" he breathed out, letting go of your shoulder.

he watched as you looked at him before taking out your earphones, eyes holding a slight shock before melting into an emotion he couldn't understand, a thin lipped smile you held for a second.

"hey" you responded with a rock from the heels of your feet, dragging your eyes from your feet to the river—it glistened under the city lights.

"you didn't get my message?" he asked with a worried furrow to his eyebrows.

you pulled your phone from it's place in your bag and sighed through your nose, "it's silenced, sorry.. was it important?".

yes it was, it was so important but how could he do this without the dam breaking.

"yes y/n i'm.. i'm sorry about earlier, i didn't want to make you feel like-like i didn't want you there, i did—i do! i just.. i didn't want to make you feel like you had to be there" lie lie lie but the alternate was pouring his soul out about something he didn't understand and what would hurt more?

you stood shocked, shocked that he even addressed it—expecting this to be washed away with time as most conflicts between friends are.

"it's alright, i didn't feel like i had to be there..but it's fine. really" you watched his shoulders relax, the walls you'd put up that day slumped with them.

he turned so you were both now facing the river, his shoulder brushed against you, neither of you moved—his hand snaked onto your arm pulling you to face him.

"i don't want you to pull away.. okay?" he looked between your eyes, soft pleading.

the dam in your minds creaked heavy, the sting in your hearts vanished without further complaint.

"okay.. i won't" you spoke quiet, a dimple carved into his cheeks at your words.

you mimicked his smile unwillingly, eyes drifting back to the water.

his eyes followed your own to the mass of water in front of you, it was beautiful—with the dimmed orange lights glistening in the ripples, it was almost hypnotic—especially through your eyes.

"home?" his eyes didn't leave your face for a second, catching your immediate shyness.

"home" you smiled as he motioned for you to walk on the inside of the path, that night your mind grew weaker for him, never expecting him to take responsibility—but that small part of you that was afraid of letting him in, being hurt—wished he was ignorant, wished he didn't read you perfectly.

it would've made it easier to stay away but that was never in the cards for either of you.

[ NOW PLAYING > ROOMMATES ]

now comfy in some pyjamas after a warm shower you walked into the kitchen feeling content, comfortable compared to earlier—the discomfort in your stomach now gone.

jungwon had prepared a cup of tea for you alongside his own, always perfectly timed after you got ready for the late evening, you hummed as you slid in next to him on the sofa, sitting closer than you intended, he turned to you giving you a smile as you murmured a thank you.

he mimicked your way of accepting, leaning into your touch, shoulder pushing against you as he slumped further into the sofa—you sat flushed against each other as whatever documentary played in the background.

for the time you spent curled next to him, you thought about how the feelings you had earlier—the doubt had dissipated into nothing, you were so adamant on this changing things but how could it when he did everything you hadn't allowed yourself to think was possible.

"heyy!" jake slid in next to you with a cheeky grin, you both greeted him as he grabbed the remote from the table in front of you, "movie?" he spoke as he pulled a blanket from the side and passed it to jungwon.

you hummed in agreement placing the now empty cup in front of you "do you guys wanna carry on with the conjuring series?" you looked between them, they nodded enthusiastically.

with the lights now off and your drinks finished you started the movie with the blanket pulled up to your lap.

jungwon's attention wasn't all on the screen. he tried—he really tried to keep them fixed on the pixels but his eyes kept drifting, he didn't mean to—it's like they were magnetised to you.

the way your lips tilted every time you saw the couple have a moment, the way your eyes were lit with longing—he wondered in that moment if you'd ever been in love before, he choked on nothing realising his brain was no longer under his control—instantly coughing to try cover it up.

"you okay?" he paused feeling caught before looking over to you and nodding, mustering up a smile—even though he was malfunctioning.

you with your alluring eyes, your adoring smile, your laugh that he was hearing in places you weren't.

god he thought he was past this.

friend, roommate, friend, roommate. he repeated over and over.

you however felt clarity at the situation, because really this wasn't a situation at all, all the pulls and pushes in your head were just that—in your head, he didn't feel this.

friends. roommates.

you acted as though you would with any friend, pushing your legs on top of jake's lap and leaning your head on jungwon's shoulder. jake made a faux noise of annoyance just to pull the blanket over your legs comfortably.

and jungwon? his eyes hadn't left you, so when you had let yourself melt into his shoulder, he let his head fall against your own. he could smell your shampoo, barely but it was unmistakably you.

jungwon heard that people get sleepy when they're around people they're comfortable with, he thought that was ridiculous until he found himself drifting into dreamland, slumped against you.

you stiffened slightly as you heard his breathing slow down—his body growing heavier, he twitched every now and then with huffs at nothing in particular.

you felt his breath on your nape, his arm draped over your waist—in flashes you saw his dimple shining pretty as he kissed your cheek lovingly, he pulled your body close to his, whispering sweet nothings.

"i'm right here".

he woke up, breathing hard—a buzzing ache lingering behind his eyes. his surroundings became clearer with each blink, the hum of the tv, the warmth of your body. he looked around with wide eyes as you sat up looking over to him with concern written across your face.

"bad dream?" you asked softly. he turned and slumped lower so you were eye to eye, he took in your tired eyes, the stiff crease in your eyebrow—the way the tv light shone against your face.

"have you ever had a dream you couldn't explain?" he spoke quietly, flitting between your eyes.

"yeah actually.. pretty much every dream i have" you joked, his lips tilted in amusement—until you saw his eyes cloud over in real time by a deeper thought.

without warning you stood up and grabbed a water bottle, slumping back into that same position slowly—careful not to wake jake. he watched as you opened the bottle and passed it to him, he thanked you.

he didn't realise how thirsty he was until then, or how flushed he was. he guzzled down the water—sighing out from the lack of breath.

"do you know what a soulmate dream is?" he finally spoke.

"yeah of course, well not from experience but i've heard of them" you looked over to him—catching the way his eyebrows were knit in thought.

he gave you a look telling you to continue, "i've heard they can be pretty much anything, depends on the people.. my aunt found my uncle through the dreams when they were about our age, her dreams were from his eyes—she told me the first time she had the dream, she thought she was having a panic attack.. and she couldn't understand why something like a dream had caused so much stress..".

you trailed off as the cogs in your mind turned, clicking missing pieces into place with a flag waving that said "you are a fucking idiot."

surely not, you thought—mind flashing back to that dream, the words, looking through his eyes—your soulmates eyes.

you could be wrong.. but you if you were right then maybe you had somehow made contact with your soulmate, maybe it was someone in passing—maybe it was slight eye-contact with someone you had never even conversed with.

[ NOW PLAYING > BACK TO FRIENDS ]

"y/n?" jungwon waved a hand in front of your face—disrupting the mental war going on in your brain.

"sorry.. i just remembered something" you exhaled, head still dazed in the idea of having a soulmate, someone promised to you by the universe, to be destined to you.

you felt as though you should have been happier at this revelation, here was the possibility of having a soulmate and yet you couldn't stop thinking, what if it wasn't the blonde boy sat next to you. you pushed it away as you had been with any thought you didn't enjoy.

jungwon caught the whirl of thoughts in your head, he saw the conflict, although he had no ideas for what it could be for—who it could be for, his hand snaked around your back, settling on your bare arm, his thumb rubbed circles.

you looked over to him as the flutters in your stomach subsided, his eyes held the stars, they bored into yours—every twinkle in his eye had you falling deeper into his soul. his spare hand reached up settling on the base of your neck—he watched as your throat bobbed up and down.

your eyes flitted over his lips, to his eyes. he paused as a thought intruded, your lips were glistening—they looked soft, how would they mould against his, how would you taste?

you watched as his eyes dilated, closing in on your lips.

his hand shifted up, his thumb rested on your jaw.

in one swift movement you pushed your head into the crevice of his shoulder, his hands gravitated to your waist immediately.

your bodies moulded together, your chests flushed against each other, you felt his breath falter, loud. you wrapped your arms around his waist before pulling your body back slowly—his hands chased yours grazing against them.

you pulled your head back, your nose grazed his jaw—he faltered, he steadied himself with a hand on your thigh. for a moment neither of you dared to move, your breath grazing against his jaw.

and then as a cruel twist of fate, jake stirred.

neither of you knew why you felt like you had been caught, so when you both pulled away sitting back into your given places—you couldn't come up with a good enough explanation for why you both bolted like you'd been stung.

you didn't talk about that night again, not as you sauntered around the lingering touches—the yearning stares as the other remained oblivious, the strings of life pulled you together in ways you didn't want to allow.

he was everywhere, at home, at the cafe, at the library, in your mind. even when you'd found peace at the river alone, he was in your mind, if he wasn't there physically he was mentally.

you were in this perfect frenzy of close friends but not too close—both doing so well at maintaining this friendship, this perfectly curated back and forth.

but now the dam had a gushing—heavy leak and there was no fixing it.

[ NOW PLAYING > BLIND ]

your heart ached, your chest was pulsing with hurt—your throat burned as you were grasping for air, you didn't know what it felt like to be heartbroken—never felt the lack of hope, of knowing there's nothing left but here you were, on the floor of your bedroom.

you woke up screaming—sweating, you only knew it wasn't reality when you heard him.

"y/n, hey wake up"

you bolted up before you even knew where you were, the sound of your sobs quieting down as you gained consciousness.

jungwon stood over you with concern and sleep printed in his expression. "did..did i wake you? i'm so sorry" you breathed feeling tears run down your face, he shook his head—an amused huff left his lips as he sat himself on your bed.

he leaned in closer than you expected, a hand softly resting against your cheek and jaw—he held you for a moment before wiping away your tears. his eyes held an adoration only he could explain.

"bad dream?"

"the worst" you sighed.

you sat further up with a sniffle and a sigh as he pulled you into his arms, you squeaked in shock—his arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling your head.

"you're okay" he whispered.

you both breathed each other in, he held you like this would be the last time, like he'd never get the chance again—as if this was the first meeting after a lifetime of waiting.

you felt as though you were in another dream, one with no consequences—but even comfort after a bad dream felt like an excuse to touch him, so hyperaware of the meaning.

you pulled away with murmurs of needing to freshen up and more apologies, you had thought yourself into overthinking.

it was all too much, you felt too much, his presence alone dampened the hurt you'd felt, no one else could do that—so you showered it all away and wrapped yourself in your towel before stepping back into your room and closing the door behind you.

you turned to see a flushed jungwon with his hand on the door handle covering his eyes. you jumped back as he whisper yelled apologies with his back turned.

"fuck i've been tryna get the door open since you left" he stuttered as you backed up to your closet, grabbing pyjamas.

"let me get changed and then i'll try help" you laughed at the sheer gravity of the situation as you pulled your clothes on and trudged over to him. he turned around and took you in, his eyes flit over you, a faint smirk on his lips.

you rolled your eyes as you tested the door yourself, it wasn't about strength—besides you'd seen jungwon's arms, that wouldn't have been a problem. the handle rattled, turning easily with no clicking, no confirmation of the cogs fitting into place, nothing.

you looked at him, he was already looking with a defeated expression. "what are the chances jake's awake?" you asked before bursting into laughter with him at his theatrical sigh.

"it's 2am, you need to sleep" he spoke as you both sat on the edge of your bed. "so do you" you countered, he hummed in agreement as you sat yourself under your covers, patting the space besides you.

this was fine, you told yourself as if you didn't run away from him for comforting you too well. you looked him over as he slid in besides you, his black tank-top clung to his figure perfectly, the shadows on his muscles perfectly lit under the fairy lights.

you slid down to get comfy, he mimicked your movements until you lay looking towards each other. how is it possible for someone to look so beautiful with no effort he thought as he scanned over your tired features.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you spoke into the comfortable silence of the room.

"like what?" he asked feeling his throat close up.

"like you've never seen me before"

he opened his mouth, closing it immediately—truthfully he looked at you like that every time he saw you.

"maybe i forget, so i take my time, make sure i can never forget again".

you rolled your eyes playfully, ignoring the way your heart soared at his words.

"save that for your soulmate" you joked.

the reality of your words sunk in too late—hurting your own feelings as the object of your desires lay in your bed with you.

you pulled the covers over your shoulders feeling the warmth seep through your body, his eyes never once left yours as you both talked yourself to sleep.

your eyes flickered open slowly, you yawned before blinking a few more times, adjusting to the golden rays peeking through. you tried to turn, only to be stuck—jungwon's arm was lazily splayed across your waist, his chest pressed to your back—his soft breaths against your nape.

you didn't dare move, didn't dare ruin this—for it wouldn't last.

you felt guilt for not waking him, for letting yourself live in this delusion while he slept—peaceful with no idea of where he was.

after minutes of laying there, your sleepiness wearing off—jungwon stirred, he groaned with his mouth closed as he pulled you by your waist further into his chest, you squeezed your eyes together and let yourself relax.

he twitched again a few minutes later, only now his eyes fluttered open—it was only evident he was awake when he yawned as quietly as he could as he took in his surrounding bit by bit, you half expected him to immediately let go of you and retreat into his space on your bed.

instead he let himself relax and closed his eyes with a faint smile.

you didn't know how much time it had been but by now you thought he was back to being asleep, until you heard a voice "yo y/n! i got the door open-" jake swung it open with a screw in one hand, his face morphed from glee to his jaw being dropped—and then a large toothy smile took over.

you shook your head with wide eyes motioning to the blonde boy being asleep, he hushed himself immediately not before raising his eyebrow and whispering "when did this happen?".

"nothing happened.. he was locked in here—so we slept" you shrugged your shoulders, praying your lips wouldn't betray you as your heartbeat already was.

you turned yourself slowly so you could face jake, only now jungwon huffed pulling you into his chest, his head was now in the crevice of your neck, his legs tangled over yours. jake laughed into his hand as you stared at him like a deer in headlights.

"fuck" you breathed as he doubled over in silent laughter. he whined as you pried yourself from his grasp with little apologies, his hands looked for you—a small pout forming on his pretty face.

you smiled as you pulled the covers over him before getting ready for the day. with your teeth brushed and your skincare on you skipped over to the kitchen, eyes catching on the pile of letters and cards.

a little pink card with the words "SYMPHONIA IX GALA" you'd heard about this gala from yuri, the gala where everyone goes all out with their dresses, dressing as princesses for the night—there was still a while until the night but tickets were already out and selling fast.

you had never been one to take initiative but last night with jungwon, that meant something—you were sure of it. it couldn't have been nothing, not with the way he looked at you—the way he held you.

maybe you could go together—as friends.. and see what happens.

half an hour later you walked back into your room with the pink card to see jungwon sat up rubbing his eyes, "morning" you smiled as you tucked the card under your alarm clock.

you sat yourself on the edge of the bed as he yawned with a stretch "morning y/n" he rasped leaning back on his arms.

"come on princess you should get up" you spoke pulling the covers down to his hips. he groaned as you jumped from the bed with a yelp, running from his swats.

"also your tits out!" you laughed turning the corner of your door.

[ NOW PLAYING > SYMPHONIA XI ]

that night you found the courage you needed to do it, after all you were only asking as a friend. that's what you told yourself, even if you wanted more—even if you knew you'd be hurt if nothing more was to happen.

you told yourself the next time you see him, you'll do it.

only you didn't expect to see him on your way to meeting your friends, he was sat on a bench with yuri—you walked over, telling yourself you can do this over and over.

"hey guys" you spoke watching as their heads snapped to you as if they were caught doing something they shouldn't.

"hey y/n" jungwon smiled, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

yuri only smiled, "hey, did you hear about the gala? the tickets are out" you spoke to jungwon, feeling a chill of anxiety run through your body, it's too late to back out now.

"yeah, were you planning on going?" he nodded.

"yeah.. actually i was wondering if you wanted to go"

you watched a smile form, until he felt yuri grab his hand—his face dropped, his mouth opened as if to speak but before he could respond, yuri spoke "actually we're going together".

you looked between them, the hand she was so easily holding between her palms.

"oh that's cool, i'll ask jake" you nodded, ignoring the blooming envy in your heart, jungwon's face held conflict—like he wanted to speak but he couldn't bring himself to.

and to confirm the fact you were so badly trying to deny.

"we're dating" she added. you looked over at jungwon—he took one look at your face before avoiding it all together.

you breathed in, holding back any emotion and mustered a "congrats" yuri smiled sweetly, "i've got to meet sunghoon and ni-ki, i'll see you guys".

you walked as fast as you could but not to meet sunghoon and ni-ki, you pulled out your phone and messaged them a vague excuse and then you walked and walked.

not even a day ago he was in your bed, holding you as though he was used to the feeling. it burned, your heart—the sting turned into an aching you couldn't quite fathom, couldn't quite push down. the rain started slowly, you sat by the river feeling the drops run down your face along with your tears.

you were grateful for the rain, grateful it grew heavier, swallowing your sobs—somewhere along the way you opened your heart, despite your efforts to keep it hidden, you'd fallen for your roommate.

you hadn't been in the picture for long but you were observant, you had to be to be a match-maker. so how had you not caught this—caught a vibe, a look.. anything.

you knew it was late but your phone was dead and you couldn't bring yourself to care because along with the hurt of rejection, you hurt for the friendships you would lose—because you couldn't keep yourself from falling for him.

you mourned the memories you'd created, you knew nothing could be the same from now and anger at yourself for deluding yourself.

by the time you got back to the dorms you were soaked and freezing, it was late—so late that you got back to a furious jungwon and jake.

you closed the door behind you with the click of the key and kicked off your shoes, "where the hell were you?" jake jumped off the sofa walking to the hallway.

you turned to face him—he took in your state and gawked, "phone died" you sighed walking through to your room and shrugging off your coat, "where were you?" jungwon repeated as they followed you.

"river" you answered plainly as you shivered, they grabbed towels for you, walking to you slow—with distance, not being able to decipher your emotions. you turned to the door, jungwon stood in front of you, trying to drape the towel over you, "i'm fine" you sighed in annoyance pushing past him.

"you're out until 2am and you come back frozen but you're fine?" he gawked eyebrows— furrowed. "yes i am fine" a muscle in your jaw flexed as you looked away from him, you couldn't look at him.

it wasn't his fault he doesn't feel the same but you also couldn't pretend you could stand his touch anymore—his presence, you couldn't let him have this hold over your heart the way he did right now.

you sat down on your bed finally feeling the cold catch up to you, your breathing slowed as you sunk onto the bed.

jungwon slid over as you sunk, "stop, m-fine" you breathed pushing him with no force, jake ran over pulling the towels over your body. you felt weak, your eyes drooped until you felt yourself drifting, "no come on don't fall asleep" jungwon shook you as you groaned in annoyance.

they pulled you into the shower running hot water over you as you sat in your clothes, you managed to convince them you could change by yourself.

finally laying in bed with your covers pulled to your chin, jake sat by you as jungwon made tea, "what happened?" he slid in next to you rubbing your arms as you shivered.

"i just lost track of time.. that's all" you sighed as you wrapped yourself around him, your head in his shoulder.

"you lost track of time, sat in the rain?" he turned to you, speaking against your hair.

"yeah—it's therapeutic really" you spoke. he hummed—not believing you one bit.

by the time jungwon came back you had drifted off into sleep on jake, he looked over with a mixture of envy and relief but neither of those things could compete with the grief in his heart—the loss of your comfort around him, the annoyance in your expression at his mere presence.

jake watched over you—with an expression jungwon couldn't decipher, he sighed through his nose before speaking. "she looked happy this morning, she was even meant to meet the guys—they told me she cancelled, saying she's tired" they took in your peaceful expression with knit eyebrows.

jungwon couldn't think clearly, he wanted to believe that maybe you were thinking about him—maybe you were hurt, about him and yuri.

maybe you were just angry, that as his friend, you knew nothing, you were told on accident—with no prior knowledge or even inkling.

jake stayed through the night, telling jungwon to get some rest—which he reluctantly did after hours. he soothed you when you stirred, he rocked you when you groaned awake, he eventually drifted into sleep alongside you.

you stirred as jake slipped out and got ready for his classes, waking up a little while later to tea by your bedside, assuming it was from jake you didn't overthink it—opting to get ready, learning to live with the sting, instead of ignoring it this time.

this entire time you had pushed down your feelings, pushed them to the corners of your mind for you weren't used to feeling so much.

you told yourself you needed to feel to let go, to let go of him—to let go of the feelings you had harboured without allowing yourself to.

but that didn't mean you had to be around to witness him with his new girlfriend, which also meant distancing yourself from your friends, not because you wanted to but because they would be there and just by their presence the peace you seeked would dissipate.

you got through it alone, avoiding everyone—justifying it by telling yourself you needed time but they didn't make it easy and it didn't go without annoyance from jake, especially for staying out later than usual and avoiding the usual hang-outs.

the tea cafe had become somewhat of a sanctuary—it being open 24 hours was of great help for someone actively avoiding a roommate but you were surprised you hadn't seen him here, after all he had introduced you.

there were also a few times you weren't so lucky, in your shares classes yuri talked to you as usual, which to your surprise didn't come with talks of her new boyfriend.

as for jungwon, he didn't know what to expect—he just didn't expect silence—to be shut out like you hadn't spent the last couple months becoming closer, becoming friends, you didn't even come out for tea after your shower anymore.

you didn't walk to class with him—always walking earlier. every time he tried to talk to you but he was met with a brief cold response or bitter shut down, eventually even your silence turned into sour remarks.

he didn't push, because pushing meant the possibility of you pushing you away for good and he couldn't take that—but he could take this, he would take this over nothing.

you couldn't see it but jungwon's patience was wearing thin—each day he went without so much as a stray glance was undoing his resolve.

after another morning of solitude, you walked through the kitchen and out the door with no words to the blonde sat at the kitchen island, who unknown to you was waiting for you, he locked the door and walked a few paces behind you.

you sat in your usual seat a few minutes early to the lecture, consumed by your own thoughts—until you felt a presence besides you, sunghoon sat in his place besides you as he would. you settled into your usual conversations, until he talked about you helping him study after class,

"when did i agree to this?" you joked, "when yuri said we're all studying at your dorm later" he laughed with confusion, you opened your phone to the messages with a sigh, "i actually already have plans" you spoke, avoiding his eyes.

"what plans" he asked as you put your phone away, "i wanted to go to the cafe and juliana asked me to go out tonight".

he hummed, "i haven't seen this infamous cafe.. care for some company?".

you made a faux thinking face as he groaned "yeah sure, why not" you answered feeling eyes bore into the back of your head.

after your class you both walked to the cafe, narrowly avoiding an interaction with yuri on your way—you did however run into juliana who invited sunghoon to join you that night.

you didn't quite know why juliana had messaged you separately for your outing but you weren't complaining, if anything this was ideal. after the cafe you walked back to your dorms to get changed, with anxiety looming in your chest—knowing everyone would be there.

you clicked the door open and closed it after sunghoon scurried in, "you wanna wait here or come with?" you asked as you slid off your shoes, "i'll come with you" he replied.

you walked in to papers scattered over the coffee table and the kitchen island, jungwon and jake sat at the kitchen as yuri sat with ni-ki on the sofa.

you tried your best to walk through without seeming rude, "where have you guys been!" yuri asked with a smile as sunghoon stood behind you, "y/n showed me that tea cafe" sunghoon replied sensing your discomfort.

"aww you should take us some time" she spoke, you hummed as jake motioned you to come over, he pulled you in for a second. "you alright?" he whispered, you nodded with a ruffle to his hair—he swatted you away as you tried your best to avoid the blondes stares.

"i've got to get ready, but i'll talk to you later" you said to him as you moved to your door with sunghoon following.

"before you guys go, i wanted to just say while everyone's here that jungwon and i are dating!" juliana spoke enthusiastically not looking at anyone.

silence. dead ghostly silence.

for a split second you looked for jungwon's reaction, you couldn't help it. his eyes were already on you—you caught his discomfort, your face stayed straight—not so much as a grimace, you couldn't.

[ PLAYING NOW > MANEATER ]

the boys all looked at jungwon in disbelief, they had always sensed the vibes between you two, even when you didn't. you'd already turned around opting to head into your room with a goodbye.

"she's getting ready with sunghoon?" yuri raised a playful eyebrow and a nudge to ni-ki's shoulder, "they're friends" jungwon responded impassive, eyes still on the page.

"they'd be cute together" she hummed, jungwon looked up with a rise to his brow, before shaking his head—focusing on the click of his pen instead of the ugly green blooming deep within him.

you got changed in the bathroom, into a outfit you knew would turn heads for your first proper night out in a while.

you came out in a lowcut dress and your favourite going out shoes, sunghoon gawked shamelessly "are you trying to kill people?" you responded with a laugh and a "maybe" as you grabbed the chosen bottles of liqueur and walked through the door of your room to the kitchen.

you took two glasses pouring an equal amount of liquid in both—handing one to sunghoon, you hadn't noticed the pairs of eyes on you as you walked through.

"y/n you look hot as fuck" yuri spoke first, everyone hummed in agreement—except jungwon, who could only stare, the first genuine smile in a good second bloomed as you thanked them, you handed sunghoon the drink watching as he took a big mouthful.

you took a sip, testing the waters—when it was deemed safe you took a long swig, with only a sample of the drink left in the cup.

"steadyy" jake took the cup from you, drinking the remnants up.

"where we going n/n" he grinned all toothy, "we aren't going anywhere jakey" you smiled, he fake pouted—you turned your head with a groan laughing.

"we should probably get going" you made another drink, drinking half and leaving the rest for sunghoon who gladly chugged the rest. jungwon walked over pouring himself his own drink next to you, his eyes flit over you carefully, like he was absorbing you into his soul—or like he wanted to test you.

you decided to pay him no mind, instead securing your handbag and walking out the door.

you waltzed in to the sound of 2000's music blasting in your ears and thankfully you found juliana within the first couple minutes of being there. "hii guys" she squealed pulling you into a brief hug before pulling back and taking in your outfit.

"you look soo fucking hot!" she exclaimed—you complimented her own outfit with a giggle and a buzz running through your body. the three of you took shots as you all sat at the bar laughing and singing along to the music, until you felt arms around your waist and a head on your shoulder.

you were fully prepared to head-butt whoever was touching you, until you heard jake's laugh, "guess who!" he spoke over the music. you turned in happy shock "jake! what are you doing here?" you laughed.

"yuri forced us to come, something about juliana" he spoke hushed before ordering shots but unfortunately, where ever yuri was—so was he. you turned to see jungwon stood with his hands in his pockets, already looking at you—you rolled your eyes in annoyance before pushing yourself up and taking the shots.

"i'm gonna dance" you said to no one in particular already walking towards the dance floor—juliana opted to join you but not without daggers in her back.

throughout the week you felt your upset—sadness—hurt dissipate into anger, you knew it wasn't going to last, but for now angers always easier to navigate than hurt, especially when you're drinking.every time you caught him staring it fuelled the anger you so desperately craved to feel.

you swayed your hips with rhythm, each sway on beat. juliana stood in front of you mirroring your movements with a large smile, you noticed her also sneaking peeks at where the group would be, for why you didn't know—you didn't think much about it either.

especially when there was a cute guy eyeing you from the bar, "go talk to him!" she shouted over the music, you shook your head with a scrunch to your nose "i don't chase" she laughed at that, you watched as her mouth drop into a smirk.

you followed her gaze, said cute guy was now besides you with a drink in his hand "i couldn't help but notice you, you look beautiful" the mystery man said with a grin, "thank you! i'm y/n, this is my friend juliana" you smiled as he handed you the drink.

"i'm jay, nice to meet you both" he spoke over the music, you gravitated back to the bar with him after juliana whispered for you to go. you couldn't help but feel pricks on the back on your neck, feeling piercing jabs like someone was watching you, your conversation with jay was going well, he was beyond cute—well mannered.

everything you'd look for in a man.. if you were looking for a man.

the second the passing thought of him being a potential partner whizzed through you felt as though you were being hissed at by your heart and to make matters worse, you heard a familiar sweet voice.

"hey jay, been a while" jungwon spoke with a strained jaw, jay looked up with a genuine smile at his presence.

"yoo jungwon!" he exclaimed as he went in for a dap up, you however was stumped they knew each other.

"how do you-" you gestured between them speaking only to jay, "he's in most my classes" jungwon chimed in before the other man could speak, you hummed to jay as if he had replied.

"you wanna dance?" you asked jay, feeling a need to get out of this interaction but before he could respond jungwon edged closer to you, almost forcing you to look at him from the proximity, "actually jake asked for you" he spoke sweetly.

jake had not asked for you, he actually asked where you were. you apologised to jay and excused yourself as the blonde trailed dangerously close to you.

"hey jake" you smiled sitting by him at the bar, "y/n! where have you been!" he whined with a clear red tinge to his cheeks. "just was on the other side of the bar" you responded.

"you guys looked good together" yuri smiled, you reciprocated not seeing jungwon's daggers at his girlfriend.

"i'm getting so tired" jake whispered to you before dropping his head on your shoulder, you nodded already taking out your phone.

[ NOW PLAYING > PARTY 4 U ]

"i'm gonna take jake home" you spoke to whoever was listening, already pulling jake up with you not without a wobble.

"i'll come" jungwon spoke quicker than you'd have expected, quick enough to show he was engaged before you even spoke. "stay here, we're good" you responded not looking at him.

"i'm coming" he finalised despite the protests from yuri in forms of whispering near his ear. the car ride was quiet, not awkward—just silent, the only noise being the hum of the engine.

you all sobered up as you wound down for the night—ending up laying on jake's bed as he rambled about physics—feeling more awake after a cold shower.

"about earlier.. jungwon and yuri, did you know?" he started—slowly, words laced with caution.

"well..yeah i did, i found out like a week ago" you replied looking up from your phone, he looked like he was ready for a bomb to go off.

"like.. the day you came home late?" he asked with an eyebrow raised. you raised your own eyebrow—challenging "you'll have to be specific, i've come home late a few nights" you feigned ignorance.

the night you felt your heart hurt in ways you hadn't thought was allowed.

"the night you came home almost hypothermic" he spoke as he sat by you on his bed, his eyes scanned over the mass of your face, peering for any reaction—any indication he was correct.

"yeah, found out earlier that day" you said unbothered, as if that wasn't the reason you were spiralling deep into a burn no one could soothe.

"it's unrelated" you spoke before he could, as if he asked.

"is it?"

you watched his own expression, the worry etched in his forehead, in his eyes—he just wanted you to learn to lean even if it wasn't something you were used to, leaning on someone with the rawest edges of your thoughts, handing over emotions that took weeks to be allowed to exist.

jake of all people knew this wasn't your strong suit, which is why he didn't push—he only encouraged, he let you lie because he knew how badly you needed the lie to be real.

"i don't know" you sighed, you tipped your head back onto his pillow—blowing air through your nose in the process.

he let you speak, only moving to sit closer to you.

"ever since we met, it's like my brain is pushing me towards him, like it wants—needs me to be close to him..i know how insane that sounds and i tried—i really tried to ignore it but after a while i just let it happen, maybe because i hoped it would be reciprocated, i don't know what i thought, i told myself i wouldn't care if it wasn't but as we got closer, so did whatever was pulling me towards him and that night we got stuck in my room.. i thought- just maybe there was—there could be something more but i was still so, scared? so i asked him if he wanted to go to the dance but yuri said they were going together.. and i said i'll ask you instead and then she told me they were dating and my brain just went into overdrive".

as you rambled you watched him go through a plethora of emotions—from earnest listening to shock he was trying to be subtle about and then something bordering on appalled confusion.

"so you think a cosmic force is pulling you together-" he started, you nodded with a swift scrunch to your nose at his wording.

"and you asked him to the gala as a friend even though you wanted more but you didn't wanna admit it" he added.

you nodded "i'm so glad i was too stubborn to ask properly, imagine i did that and she told me they were together, i think i would've blown up" he laughed at that with his usual gummy smile.

"i don't know, i don't think you're insane or looking into things too deeply, anyone can see he's insane about you" he spoke casually as if you weren't being presented with new information.

you gawked for a second "what is wrong with you—don't say shit like that" you spoke as you swatted at his chest.

"nah i'm serious, he looks at you like you personally give him life every day and since you started avoiding him he's been looking around like a lost kitten always looking in places you'd usually be".

"jake he has a girlfriend" you sighed pushing your head deeper into the pillow.

"that's true, but he didn't stop looking for you whether or not he has a girl" he retorted.

"well he can keep doing that, i'm not waiting up on anyone just because there's a possibility he could like me especially whilst he has a girlfriend, besides i still just need time away from him, when he's close i can't hear myself think—it's like all rational thinking goes out the window" you groaned as a hand wiped down your face.

it was all becoming a bit too infuriating, even when you did your best to put yourself in positions where you couldn't be interacted with, he found a way, when you'd walk to class—he'd be right next to you. when all you wanted was to drink tea and read, he'd be in the room— hovering.

when you were playing a game with jake, he made it a point to sit next to you—closer than you wanted, at least a knee brushing yours.

which didn't help when your emotions towards him were currently in a hurricane you didn't care to address.

you even decided you'd spend all night at your tea cafe to study, not wanting to be distracted by jungwon's constant hovering. only he showed up not even an hour in and sat in front of you like it was his given place.

you looked up from your work without moving your head and blew air through your nose in annoyance, he looked at you with his signature curious feline gaze, which if anything annoyed you further—because why was he looking at you like he wasn't the one who sat down without permission.

"hey" he spoke after seconds of silence, with the sound of the rustles of paper and the chatters of the workers hanging as its own white noise.

"hello?" you breathed eyes still stuck on your work sheets—only your mind wasn't focused on the pages, not anymore.

"are you staying here—all night?" he asked eyeing the empty cup of tea besides you.

"probably" you spoke stifling a comedically timed yawn.

"you want to walk back with me?" he said before he could over-think the words coming out his mouth.

"i'm fine right here" you finally look up—expecting him to back off, to take the hints you'd been so easily throwing at him.

instead he stayed in his seat—sinking further into it with a nod at your words. your eyes stayed on him—challenging, he held your gaze as if he waiting for you to do something.

"are you not leaving?"

"thought i'd keep you company" he smiled as he ordered his own black tea.

you narrowed your eyes in disbelief and took a breath to compose yourself, he couldn't be serious..

"i don't need company" you responded with a sweet venom-laced smile, he smiled with a tilt to his head.

"you have mine anyway" he said easily—as if those words wasn't something you would've dreamed of weeks ago.

[ NOW PLAYING > FALLEN STAR ]

he was trying to be your friend again but you knew your friendship was never just that—it strived on touches neither of you wanted to pull from—contact you so deeply craved after convincing yourself you wouldn't.

but you didn't feel guilty for wanting those things, because he was just jungwon—but now, he was her jungwon.

which is also why you couldn't fathom how he could be here—in this position, you knew your feelings were painfully obvious—your reaction to their relationship only made that clearer.

"how can you do this to her?" you said before you could stop yourself.

if he felt any forms of guilt—anger or defence he hid it well.

"what am i doing?" he responded slowly, it felt almost mocking—as if he had no clue at all.

"i'm not going to spell it out for you" you spoke with a clenched jaw as you shoved your things into your bag and swiftly left the cafe.

the clacks of both your shoes were the only noise in the other-wise clear air.

"speak to me y/n" his voice soft and warm, the kind that had the power to soften your roughened edges.

he trailed behind you as you walked with a mission, this was where he would finally leave, was what you thought as you reached the river—you took a definitive turn to walk towards your designated spot.

only he was still here, "what are you doing?" you finally turned with frustration bubbling through you.

"speak to me.. please" he repeated again, in that same voice.

"what do you want me to say? that i don't understand why you're still talking to me—as if we can be friends—we can't" you let out finally.

"why can't we be?" he asked.

"you have a fucking girlfriend jungwon" you spat.

"so?" he walked closer to you.

"what the fuck.." you scoffed turning away from him, he grabbed your arm pulling you closer to him—turning you to face him again.

"that doesn't mean we can't be friends" he said, peering into your eyes, before you could shake yourself out of his grasp.

"does she know?" you responded quickly, not letting any silence settle.

"yes, she does".

"does she know everything?" you emphasized.

any girlfriend surely wouldn't let her boyfriend be friends with someone they almost kissed.

"she knows everything" he reiterated—only now did you notice his hand still hanging onto your arm.

you nodded, beyond confused—still with that same raw ache that only presented itself to you in his presence, his arm on you still felt far too intimate.

"i'll prove it to you" he added after seeing your inner conflict.

even if she allowed this friendship—you couldn't, not when you knew you craved more than his friendship could ever offer.

but even with the cold exterior you had on for him, you didn't tell him you couldn't allow it.

"fine, we'll see"

because space is easier when only you're aware of it.

he gave you real unfiltered smile, of relief—the kind that was currently making you feel guilty. you once again expected his words to be forgotten—erased with time, what you didn't expect was yuri herself talking to you about this.

she showed up at your dorm with a polite knock to your door and a stomach churning.

"hey can we talk?"

you sat on your bed patting the space besides you as she closed the door behind her, "look i'm gonna cut the bullshit and get to the point, i'm really cool with you being friends with jungwon—i know you had feelings for him and i know you almost kissed"

you couldn't decipher the exact course your emotions took—one of them was a stinging, stuck in your throat—that he had told someone something either of you had failed to address with even each other.

"why would you let us be friends? i don't know if you're aware but all of that was still very fresh before you dated" you spoke not bothering to hide your perplex.

"i know, it's simply because i trust you both—you were both my friends before any of this" you stared at her almost waiting for something to break, a crack—but it never came.

"right.." you responded not quite knowing to say at this point.

"you guys can do whatever you did before i was in the picture i'm not just going to ask you to cut off your roommate" she scoffed.

but you were never truly friends, every action had an underplating of your longing for things to change—if he had a girlfriend on the first meeting those course of events wouldn't have even occurred.

"if we almost kissed as friends—roommates.. do you really want us to do whatever we did before?" you raised an eyebrow now your confusion only deepening with each sentence. her expression didn't change, not once.

"truly i'm not strict y/n just don't kiss obviously" she laughed as though this was all some funny inconvenience. you just gawked in pure disbelief as she switched the topic to some off-topic party she was inviting you to with no mention of the prior conversation again.

you realised as she talked about clothes and drinks that you had never once seen them so much as hold hands—not that you wanted to see that or that it mattered, you were by no means judging their relationship—but you couldn't help but make the observation.

not long after that you got changed for the party, only opting to go because jake had begged with his big eyes and pout—you sat in the centre of the sofa nursing a half full glass of an alcohol you couldn't name.

sunghoon and ni-ki were stood leant against the sofa debating some game you weren't engaged in enough to name—yuri and juliana were whispering intensely about something in the kitchen.

[ NOW PLAYING > HOUSE OF CARDS ]

and you were teasing jake about his inability to handle his liquor—already noticing the light tinge of red on the tips of his cheeks, as he groaned in annoyance you felt a dip in the sofa besides you and a leg flush against yours—you turned to see the culprit, jungwon with his head tilted looking over you with his pretty glistening eyes.

you averted your head after sending a corporate smile—immediately focusing on the drink in front of you, he looked with you before softly wrapping his hand around the glass—pulling it gently from your grasp and bringing it up to his plush lips—taking a sip.

"mmm" he hummed as his tongue darted out—licking the remnants from his lips—eyes still trained on yours.

something in your stomach flipped—harsh, you managed a tight lipped smile as you placed your hand over his on the cup, taking it back into your hold.

yeah.. this was not going to work.

you gave it a subtle couple minutes before excusing yourself from his overwhelming touch to top up your drink, you felt his eyes follow you with a slightly darkened gaze.

the party was a typical house party at the home of someone you couldn't name—with the bass of the music bouncing off the walls and the lights dimmed enough but not too much.

you grabbed a random cup of a drink to further the harsh buzz you already felt, this night was a night of letting go—a night to live without a plan or a designated time to get home.

you conversed with random women complimenting them on their outfits, danced with your friends—but never without that familiar prickle on your nape, the one that only presented itself when you felt as though you were being watched. you settled yourself onto the end of an empty sofa with a drink someone had brought to keep your high going.

"hi beautiful" you heard a voice settle besides you along with the momentary sink of the plush sofa.

"hey jay!" you responded with a tilt to your head and a look you only reserved for shameless flirting on nights you couldn't recall.

"i missed you" he smirked inching closer, whispering close to your ear.

"oh really?" you smiled leaning closer.

"how could i not?" his breath tickled your ear as he snaked an arm around the back of the sofa.

you looked around the room—looking over nothing at particular with hazed over lens as he whispered words you could only giggle at, until your eyes fell on jungwon, his jaw was tight—his eyes were dark, his cup was slightly indented as if he was fighting every urge not to crush it right there.

you held his eye contact as jay's hand drifted from the back of the sofa to your shoulder—your arm before settling on your waist, you averted your gaze looking back up to the man before you.

his eyes were shamelessly trained on your lips, waiting for you to give the greenlight—the second you looked at his own slightly pink lips he leant forward—with a hand on your jaw.

and then you felt it, the chorus of complaint your heart was pushing onto you—you ignored it as you had been. whether or not this man was your soulmate didn't concern you, for you were lost in anything but who he was in this moment.

you smelt the alcohol on his lips as you were sure he could too, his lips pushed against yours for barely a second when you felt a hand pull you up, ripping you from his hold.

you barely registered anything as you looked at the hand connecting you to whoever was furiously pulling you to the nearest room. he slammed the door, pushing you against it.

"what the fuck jungwon!?" you spat tilting your head up, he was close enough you could smell his cologne, his nose inches from yours.

"you're kissing random guys now?" he scoffed not moving from his current position, caging you in against the cold wood of the door.

"random? what do you care" you laughed attempting to push him back, he didn't move.

he almost growled at your words, his breathe now fanning your ear as he composed himself, breathing low.

he pulled back, enough to see his eyes hold onto your lips, contemplating—his tongue ran over the span of his bottom lip—angry. you pushed yourself forward, just enough his chest grazed yours—just enough that he could feel every word.

"what do you care" you repeated low, venomous.

his throat bobbed as he breathed heavy against your lips, his hand splayed against your waist—possessive.

"fucking pussy" you shook your head with a mocking scoff—just as you straightened to move out of his grasp—his hand held the back of your head and he pushed your head back by your chin—tilted against the door.

you both breathed heavy against each others lips—parted barely grazing, his hand was imprinting into your jaw.

"say that again" you felt him speak against your lips.

"fucking p-" he closed the space between your lips, hard—you whimpered against his mouth as he kissed you, open mouthed—messy, he groaned low as he tasted you—his tongue whirled against yours as his hand released your jaw, it ran along the curve of your back settling on your lower back, he pushed against your body into the imprint straining against his pants.

he whimpered loud and unrestrained into your mouth as a gasp left your lips without permission, you pulled back just enough to get a glimpse of him in this state—his tongue lolled out as he caught his breath.

your heart was still—not screaming or thrashing against it's restraints, instead beating hard—with a thrill it only craved further.

months of back and forths, of stolen touches led to this, to a single vulnerable moment neither of you could pull away from—you could blame it on the alcohol, just a drunken mistake but you knew better.

he watched as you looked up at him with a gleam of pure fevour—he felt himself slip in that moment, his mind reducing into a puddle.

"driving me fucking crazy" he groaned as he pulled you up against the door, you made a noise in-between that of a gasp and a whimper as you wrapped your legs around him—your dress hiking up giving him access to the plush of your ass against his hands, his lips attacked you, his tongue battled yours hungrily, the only sounds in the room being your sinful noises mixed with the sound of his tongue sucking yours—pulling away with a slick pop and a string of saliva connecting you both.

his hips ground up into you as his lips kissed your jaw—chin and then licking against your ear before gasping and grunting sweetly.

"baby i can feel how wet you are" he whispered low, you whined in response pulling his head back by his hair and suckling on his bottom lip making him mewl against you.

you could feel how big he was even against the layers—your panties were beyond flooded with your arousal, you felt your stomach tightening as his movements grew erratic, he huffed against your lips as your own hips rolled down—desperate.

one hand left your ass—moving to where your bodies met, he drew fast rhythmic circles over your panties where your clit sat—aching to be touched. "f-fuck—i'm so close" you breathed. broken sounds fell from your lips against his as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap

"yeah? fuck- c-cum with me baby" he breathed before a final roll of your hips undid you both, the coil snapped hard—his hips stuttered with a shuddering groan and your name on repeat as though it was all he knew.

he held you as you slumped in his hold—head falling to his shoulder as you both caught your breath.

you finally lifted your head after however long of breathing against each other—in his arms. he set you down and smoothed over your dress as you sighed against the back of the door, his hand came up and cupped your jaw—he held it—gentle almost loving.

his eyes held a softness and spark you'd only seen in the moments you believed there could be more, his lips curved up before he pressed a sweet kiss against your lips—you kissed back.

[ NOW PLAYING > NOPE YOUR TOO LATE I ALREADY DIED ]

for a time you had forgotten where you were, who you were—who he was, only in that kiss did it hit you, he wasn't yours—not really.

you were kissing a man who belonged to someone else. you felt your stomach lurch as you pushed him away, your head spun—partly because of the alcohol but mainly because you felt disgust creep into your body—chills.

"y/n?" jungwon watched as your eyes darted with furrowed eyebrows—your breathing was shaky. you shook your head attempting to push open the door, only for him to stop you.

"just speak to me-" you looked at him incredulously, the hatred spinning through your body was mainly directed at yourself—but as you looked at him you couldn't help but feel disgust at him—hatred at him for so easily cheating on his girlfriend, the same one who had trusted you both to keep to yourselves.

"i'm more than this—i'm more than a side bitch, and yuri- she deserves so much better.. from both of us" your eyes pricked with tears, he shook his head.

"that's not—just please hear me out, you're not a side anything i only want you-" you scoffed as your tears fell—not wanting to hear another word you ripped the door open and pushed yourself through a group of people—hidden from him.

you found a bathroom and let yourself calm down, the only thought in your mind right now was finding yuri, the guilt ate at your heart as the tears fell, your chest hammered with a pain no one could comfort.

you had never felt so lost, your tears were for the loss of your respect for yourself—the pain you were going to cause—the people you'd lose and for losing yourself, you wanted to believe this was far from who you were—but right now you weren't so sure.

because in that moment you hadn't thought of yuri once, your mind never once flipped to the person you were hurting most.

so you wiped your tears and cleaned yourself up and then you opened the door and went to find jake.

"where's yuri?" you spoke over the music, suddenly feeling the harsh sting of a head-ache behind your eyes, the noise of people, the light all becoming entirely too overwhelming. jake turned his head to you—taking in your glazed over reddened eyes—and something between pain—defeat and disassociation.

"she went back to ours—with juliana, said it was the closest place and she felt sick" he spoke. you nodded and turned towards the door, his hand grabbed yours before you could start walking.

"are you okay?" you paused, just long enough to send doubt to his head and then sent him a tight lipped smile and stiff nod before setting off, only he trailed behind with worry in his brows. you finally reached your apartment after much overthinking and a lot of anxiety, the alcohol was just a buzz in the form of that same head-ache.

you opened the door to loud music blasting in your ears and walked through the hall, looking around for any signs of life—except you found it faster than you thought.

yuri sat on the sofa with her lips on juliana's. you stood still with your jaw dropped to the ground, jake walked up next to you—catching your expression before seeing the reason for it, his eyes followed yours before matching your dropped jaw.

jake composed himself first and coughed—loud, their heads snapped up, you had no idea what to think at this point your prior guilt and self-loathing filtered into a state of utter confusion.

neither of them spoke, just gawking—looking between each other with fear written all over them.

"so.. i came here to tell you that jungwon and i..uhm well—we" you scrunched your nose in discomfort, becoming too aware of the amount of people in the vicinity.

"i know" yuri spoke first, she looked at juliana who only nodded.

"look i wanted to tell you earlier but i was so scared—i really didn't know how to do this and i know i fucked up—but jungwon and i aren't dating, it was fake..i love juliana, i asked him if we could fake it, only because our maid caught us and my mom would approve of me dating him...but she would never approve of me and juliana—i made sure he didn't tell anyone and i know how badly he wanted to... i'm so sorry" she spoke fast, with tears in her eyes—and a shake to her voice.

you let out a breath—you felt their eyes on you waiting for you to speak but you couldn't find the words, so you opted to nodding and locking yourself in your room—overwhelmed with emotions, stuck in a frenzy of all the events that occurred in the last couple hours.

you showered away the grime from that day and got changed into your favourite jumper and pyjama pants, deciding to get some fresh air.

you wrapped yourself in a coat and slipped out—ignoring the people scattered around the room because you were afraid of that confrontation—afraid of all the conclusions you had failed to come to.

as you walked you tried thinking it all over, yes he wanted to tell you—yes you understood why he couldn't, it wasn't his place.

but he could've left you alone—he could have let you push away instead of trying to pull you back with the knowledge of how complicated it all was, knowing he couldn't tell you but still playing with your feelings.

you also knew that you wouldn't have wanted him to let you push away.

your mind ached with confusion as you walked along the river, leaning forward against the railing. the water swayed back and forth—imperfect ripples dancing throughout. you looked into it for answers—to tell you how to navigate this without losing your mind completely.

you huffed into the air as you sat with an odd sense of calm, you felt a drop land on your head—and of course you had nothing to protect you from it.

[ NOW PLAYING > MA MEILLEURE ENNEMIE ]

with no attempt to move you felt a couple more drops and then a shadow, you looked up to see a clear umbrella hovering over your head.

jungwon stood beside you with a hat on and an unreadable expression—something along the lines of adoration, a slight worry and pure unadulterated pining.

for a moment you just looked at each other, trying to figure out how this would go—you noticed the furrow in his brow, not angry, not confused, a furrow that made him look at you as if he was scared you'd disappear if he stopped looking.

his eyes looked slightly glossed over, sparkly as though he was from a dream.

"thanks" you spoke under your breath—the patters of ran fell against the plastic as you felt a light tension that only presented itself in his presence, not the bad kind—just a clear shift.

"i saw you leave, guessed you'd come here" he spoke.

"why'd you come?" you looked over the railing again, not catching him wince.

"i know you must be confused right now, i wanted to be here—and i wanted to apologise.. for lying to you, for making this so much more complicated than it had to be—y/n i am so sorry" he turned to face you completely, eyes boring into yours with guilt.

you nodded, unable to think of a response "so much has happened..i'm mainly angry" you started.

"i'm angry at myself for letting anything happen with you.. while yuri-"—"we weren't together" he interrupted, you turned to him and shook your head—blowing air through your nose.

"that doesn't matter! i thought you were and i still let it happen.. and i don't know how i could do that, i believed you were together and i didn't think about yuri once" you sighed—frustrated.

"y/n i know why that happened" he said fast, as though he didn't know if he should say it.

"what are you talking about?" you asked. he looked at you with a mixture of fear and anticipation, he stepped closer—under the umbrella.

"i can't breathe when i'm around you—i was scared of losing you, which is why i didn't come here after that night" he breathed in, as if to compose himself.

"i couldn't bring myself to..-" he shook his head, tightening his lips together before breathing out—he stepped forward, close enough you could see the sheen over his eyes—close enough you could count his eyelashes.

"i love you.. if you could take all the words in the language—it still wouldn't describe how much i love you, if you could put all those words together, it still wouldn't describe what i feel for you.. what i feel for you, is everything, i love you more than everything".

"everything?" you felt a tear you hadn't anticipated running down your cheek.

he smiled, sweet and soft—with a curve to his dimples and cupped your face with his free hand, running his thumb over your tears.

"everything" he nodded, you let out a laugh full of relief—he returned the laugh with his own, you inched forwards—he tilted his head, eyes now focused on your lips. he leaned forward—pressing his lips to yours delicate—loving, he pressed harder against your lips, his hand sliding to your nape—pressing just enough so you could feel how long he'd been waiting for this.

you cupped his face pressing a final peck to his lips before pulling away with a shy smile, his face was still inches from yours, now sporting a pink flush.

"i love you jungwon" you whispered between you both, as a promise as much as a confession.

his smile widened, he looked off to the side as if to compose himself and then he giggled dropping his head to your shoulder.

[ NOW PLAYING > LOVERS ]

"i think we're soulmates" he whispered—clearly without thinking.

your breathing stopped as you remembered your previous revelation, the beginning of your soulmate dreams. he lifted his head up from your shoulder—slowly, looking over everything inch of your face as he heard your breath falter.

"we couldn't stay away from each other, because we're soulmates" he held your gaze.

"yeah, you didn't think about yuri, not because you're a bad or selfish person—but because that was the first time your heart beat with me—..the first time our hearts beat together" he placed his hand over your heart.

"you know, she even said she doesn't expect us to stay away from each other" he joked—but your mind was somewhere far from here.

"what if we're not" you blurted out. he only smiled, looking as though you'd said the most endearingly—stupid thing possible.

"baby, soulmate or not you're stuck with me, i choose you—every time" you stifled a giggle at his words, tears welling in the corners of your eyes.

"that night we found each other, in the kitchen—that wasn't coincidence, i refuse to believe any of this was" he spoke slowly.

"let's go home" he pulled you close—whispering into your hair.

as those words left his mouth, lips against your hair—you felt content, you felt the ache you'd be harbouring in your heart lift, at first the comfort scared you—because nothing was made to last.

but there was beauty in the fear, for every irrational thought, you felt him—like an orb of light—strung between you, wrapping you together—not noticeable, not claustrophobic—just a presence. you both felt it in the pats of the water—in the freshly rained air, it was devastatingly beautiful.

that night you walked home, hand in hand under the little clear umbrella—occasionally bumping shoulders and bickering after trying to force him under the plastic.

once you got home and heard that familiar click, you got ready for the night, before being pulled into jungwon's room with gentle hands. of course you'd been in here before—but only with jake. his perfectly clean room with grey sheets and a little plant on the desk next to the stack of books, you couldn't help but notice that red scarf hanging on a hook by his wardrobe.

"sleep here tonight?" he looked to you with pleading eyes, no one could say no to that face.

you had barely nodded before he was pulling you down to the bed, paired with a mischievous giggle your heart could only swell at. he pulled you so you were almost on top of him, the moonlight spilled through the window—carving a shadow over his face.

one hand on your cheek, the other splayed around your waist—he held you as though he wouldn't get the chance again, his lips pressed to each inch of your face, spilling sweets into your ears. you fell asleep in his arms, to the sound of his honey voice whispering words he'd only dreamt of speaking to you.

his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin on your shoulder—he felt you hum against him as he pressed a sweet kiss against your jaw, only now he saw you clearly—through his eyes.

you found me.

your eyes fluttered open to the feeling of a hand brushing over your cheek—as they adjusted to the light a sleepy jungwon came into view.

"sorry, your hair was in the way" he whispered with an apologetic pout.

you only smiled lazily, stretching as you nuzzled into his neck eliciting a comfortable hum from him. "how long have you been awake?" you spoke muffled.

"maybe 10 minutes, you're a pretty sleeper" he said with rasp, pressing a kiss to your temple. you nudged your nose against his neck in protest before remembering your dream, seconds before you woke up.

you believed jungwon when he told you he'd choose you, that didn't mean you weren't allowed to worry bringing up your dream.

"baby?" you whispered, tilting your head just enough so he could hear you clearly.

he tilted his head away with a hand over his face, cheeks clearly turning red even as he hid his face. "that's new" he choked as you laughed, he attempted to composed himself with a cough.

"yes y/n?" he turned to look down at you "did you happen to have a dream last night?" you spoke quietly between you, watching over his every expression, his face morphed from light confusion to recognition.

he turned to you completely and cupped your face between his hands.

"you found me"

he pulled you closer to him, as you breathed out in relief, all you could do was take in each and every detail of his face with a profound joy no one could describe, a feeling you didn't think you'd get the clarity to enjoy.

"there's no one i'd rather be destined to" he whispered as he stroked your jaw. in a way you thought you'd felt all this before—all in your dreams but in your dreams you'd wake up alone, wondering when you'd feel it all, really feel it—in the world and not in your head.

you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his slowly, he hummed pulling your body impossibly closer.

"thank you soulmate" you spoke between kisses, he giggled—sweet.

[ NOW PLAYING > LES ]

after a lot of cuddling and kisses you begrudgingly got up—out of jungwon's death grip, you tiptoed out of his room into your own and decided to do some cleaning—as you folded the last of your washing, you laid some clothes out on your bed, grabbing your towel for a shower.

you pulled your curtains back, letting the morning glow wash over your room—soft rays fanning over the room in a pattern against each surface. as you stood out watching the life outside your windows, you felt hands creep around your waist—yelping out at the foreign feeling.

"jungwon! you scared me" you gasped—"mm i'm sorry baby" he spoke before pulling you into a kiss, you hummed into it as he deepened it slowly—walking back, you made an unintentional gasp-whine as the back of your legs pressed into the bed.

he swallowed your noises, hands wandering up your waist—your own pulled onto the back of his head, raking through his hair. he whined into your mouth loud—unfiltered.

"you're addicting" he breathed in-between kisses, your tongues traced each others, both spurring each other on with each noise.

"baby i was gonna shower" you giggled after pulling away to breathe, he shook his head for a split second a light bulb practically appearing above his head, he took your hand and pulled you to the bathroom—with a clear problem in his pants..

"let's shower then" he tilted his head, pulling you back into a deep—messy kiss, pushing his hands into your hips, you laughed at his boldness as your hands reached behind you to lock the door.

you parted just for a second to start the shower before capturing his lips again, hands toying at the hem of his shirt—he pulled it over his head as you pulled your sleep shorts off, kicking them somewhere in the bathroom. you took in his toned—golden chest, letting out a breath. he smirked at your reaction, you leaned in pressing kisses to his cheeks "so pretty".

he pulled your top over your head—his lips parted as he pulled you closer towards him, pressing small kisses to your collarbones—shoulders.

"my beautiful girl" he spoke looking over the details on your face—the crease in your cheeks as you smiled at his words, the love swirled with desire in your eyes. you felt your stomach twist as you scanned over the large imprint over his joggers, he kicked them off as you stepped over the ledge into the shower.

you gasped at the chill of the water, as you turned to change it jungwon turned you back towards him.

"don't bother" he grinned, pushing his darkened blonde hair back—your back pressed against the cool wall as he pressed his length against you, you caught sight of his painfully hard dick, mouth watering.

"not yet" he whispered before shoving his tongue into your mouth—pressing his fingers over your slit, you gasped against his mouth. he hummed, teasing—rubbing over your leaking cunt.

"don't fucking tease" you whined, teeth grit. he only chuckled—dark and taunting. "or what?" he licked against your ear.

your words got caught in your throat as he shoved two fingers deep into you with no remorse, you moaned loud as the cold water soothed the heat surging through you.

"shh baby, wouldn't want jake to hear your pretty noises now would we?" he mocked as he curled his fingers perfectly—repeatedly against your gummy walls.

your lips formed a pout as you bit your bottom lip—shaking your head with a whine mouth closed. your hand shook as you held the wall with enough pressure to drain the colour from it, the other on his shoulder—holding on for dear life.

he bent his knees, tilting down with his fingers thrusting in and out—his lips captured the peak of your tit with a low groan tearing into the mixed echoes of the room. his groans and your whines mingled with the sound of water hitting the two of you—it was truly filthy.

his tongue twirled over your tits as he alternated, finally letting them rest as his thumb joined the torment, transfixing on your clit. he straightened his legs—pressing your cheeks together to lick into your mouth, kissing you open mouthed. a low mewl tore from your throat into his mouth. you felt your stomach threaten to snap, cunt tightening around his relentless fingers.

"don't you dare" he whispered against your lips, eyes black with desire. he pumped his fingers harder, faster.

"i-mmph' i can't" you gasped, he dropped down to his knees as your legs shook hard, replacing his thumb with his lips—he sucked and licked against your clit. his eyes locked onto yours as his lips worked on you alongside his fingers, sinful noises shook through the room as he undid whatever he said about being quiet, with his mouth.

"cum-on-my-tongue" he breathed in-between sucks, with one final simultaneous curl to his finger and flick of his tongue you came.

you came hard with a drawn out scream, jungwon ate up your arousal through your high with enthusiastic moans of his own, your legs buckled as the heat rose through your body. he finally came up as you started twitching—overstimulated.

he pressed his lips against yours with a groan as you tasted yourself—you traced your fingers over his stomach working down to his cock, he twitched violently as you wrapped your palm around it—applying pressure.

he hissed at the contact and then hiked your leg up, around his waist. he grabbed your hand placing it back on his shoulder before wrapping his own hand around himself—teasing his reddened tip against your entrance.

he pushed in an inch, slowly—watching your every expression with parted lips and groans. your breath stuttered as he inched further and further in, until he bottomed out with a sweet whine against your ear.

you gasped as you adjusted, head against the wall—he kissed your ear, jaw—finally nipping on your bottom lip.

"mmph' move please" you whined as his cock twitched inside you, he held eye contact as he experimentally thrust into you, you gasped loud—immediately silencing yourself with closed eyed.

"open your eyes" he spoke as he thrusted again—his free hand started pinching at your nipples as he bounced you rhythmically.

your noises loudened as he pumped faster—harder into you, with his darkened eyes trained on yours, his own resolve breaking as whines spilled out, his fingers left your nipples—working on your puffy clit.

you cried out just as you felt your stomach tightening, for your second orgasm.

"y/n! are you good i heard you scream?!"

your head snapped to the door in fear hearing jake through the door, you looked at jungwon's face—only to see his eyes darken further with each moment, his once parted lips now upturned into a sly grin. he immediately tightened his grip on you, fucking up into you at an animal pace—your jaw dropped as you clamped a hand over your mouth.

"can feel your pussy sucking me in, you fucking like this?" he chuckled low into your ear, you clenched harder at his words, his hips stuttered as he sighed through his nose—as if to compose himself.

"go on, answer-him" he spoke with grit teeth—you slowly released the hand over your mouth, teeth now sunk into your lip.

"m-i'm—fine, slipped!" you choked out as jungwon's cock slammed into you, your vision slipping as tears rolled out unknown to you.

"okay.. be careful!" he shouted and then you heard the door to your room close.

as if on cue the coil snapped, hard—you saw white as you came for the second time, jungwon's head fell to your shoulder as he rode out his own high with a violent stutter to his hips and a drawn out groan as he filled your cunt with his milky cum.

you both gasped for air, he pulled out with a grunt as you hissed at the sensitivity, the gasps slowly dying down into deep breaths as the cool water washed away the sin and heat.

you felt his lips press kisses from your collarbone to your lips, pecking a few times with a dazed lazy smile. you both stood under the showerhead—whispering i love you's between kisses.

you washed each other, taking your sweet time—that was until you felt wave of sleep attack your eyelids, which prompted jungwon to swiftly pull you out and wrap you in a towel—making you do your skincare as he pulled out pyjamas for you. you got changed as jungwon sprinted to his own room, he came back within minutes to join you, he sunk into the bed besides you with a drawn out sigh as he pulled you into him.

your relationship with jungwon didn't fill any void, it didn't make you feel more accomplished—it added to the joy you already felt, you didn't need him to better your life—he added betterment without it being a necessity.

as a soulmate jungwon fit into place with ease, the changes that came with your relationship wasn't overwhelming—he was attentive without being overbearing, your wish was his command even without wishing—always thoughtful, with your shared teas becoming more frequent, often waking to them waiting for you on the kitchen island.

he did however have a hard time keeping his hands off you, during movie night or in public, of course jake had noticed the shift—unbeknownst to you he saw it in the way jungwon no longer looked at you how he did, he used to look at you as though he'd have to savour it—looking away almost as quickly as his eyes landed on you.

now his eyes lingered—they watched over your figure, sometimes with a deep fulfilment, other times as a predatory up and down.

what jake didn't know, was the soulmate news. he had no idea you were destined for each other. which you weren't trying to keep a secret but you hadn't quite known the best time to bring it up.

and you certainly hadn't expected it to come out when you assumed jake wasn't home.

you stood with your back to the room, making a drink as the tv played some animal documentary into the otherwise silent room. you huffed in faux annoyance as jungwon slid in behind you—resting his head on the blade of your shoulder as an amused noise left his mouth.

his hands slid around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek—you turned your head enough to meet his lips, humming into an all too sweet kiss.

"morning soulmate" he spoke as you turned yourself around, hands leaning on the counter behind you—his hands traced your waist as you turned pulling you into another kiss, as you pulled back from his lips your words got lost on your tongue—a shell-shocked jake stood at the island.

his jaw dropped with a shopping bag in hand, jungwon followed your shocked expression to jake's—his own face falling.

"soulmates?!" he gawked looking between you both, you walked over to him setting the bag on the island and propping yourself up on it.

"yeah, um we've only known for a couple days.." you started as he continued looking between you both.

"alright i knew you were together or-or something! but soulmates?" he stammered, jungwon had walked over at this point standing besides you as you talked.

"wait, pause—did we make it that obvious?" you responded.

"well yeah? he looks at you like he's allowed to now, also you did kinda hint something happened when we caught yuri and juliana.." he raised an eyebrow as jungwon choked looking around the room.

"we have a lot of catching up to do" you sighed as he punched jungwon's shoulder making him groan out who only nodded with his lips tightened into a line.

"i deserved that.."

.⭑ˎˊ˗

time moved as your relationship progressed, each day melting together in a comfortable rhythm—jungwon found a new way to show his devotion towards you each day. sometimes he'd show up after your classes with a paper cup of your favourite tea—other times he had pulled you to your river, talking about finding the stray cat he had ran into.

you fell into a unspoken routine, having sleepovers every so often—sometimes you'd fall asleep early and wake up to a sleepy jungwon nestled into your back. he insisted on walking you to your classes each morning—even if he didn't have any.

your friends hadn't questioned the change at all, they welcomed it with open arms—all of them had pretty much seen it coming, they even went so far as to give those couple months you'd spent pining a name, the yearning trials..

yuri had also apologised many times in her own way, often sending flowers before you stopped her, telling her you understood—it was a cycle of pain for everyone.

nothing changed with jake—if anything he took your relationship as an opportunity to tease jungwon when he'd inevitably be caught lacking, leaving jungwon a flushed mess trying to convince you both he wasn't embarrassed. however burying his head into your shoulder denied that.

he also often walked into interesting scenes at the dorms.

one time he walked in to you baking, with jungwon on washing up duty, quickly coming to the conclusion baking wasn't for him—he beat each substance into the dish with zero patience of his own, you had to take the bowl from him in the same manner you would taking a toy from a child.

the last couple days you had felt slight unease, everything flowed the same—your life was beyond magical, except there was a little tingle in your spine that suggested otherwise.

you noticed it in the way jungwon looked slightly worried anytime you went near his desk, also not letting you grab his glasses for him—mumbling a vague excuse about being comfy on you, except he had complained about having to get them.

after some particularly tiring classes you kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your jacket as you trudged into your room, walking in to a little pink paper sat on your pillow.

come to the roof

slightly ominous.. but you easily knew who it was from the writing. a smile graced your lips as you slipped on your shoes and ran up the stairs. you pushed open the door immediately being hit with a slight chill—and jungwon sat on a blanket, barely being able to contain his smile as you sauntered over.

"what's this?" you laughed as you slid in next to him, he pulled you close by your shoulder—pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"so you remember when you asked me to the gala" he wiggled his eyebrows as you rolled your eyes.

"unfortunately" you said with a dropped voice.

"would you like to go with me y/n?" he spoke between you, low and shy.

"baby tickets would be long gone by now" you smiled as you kissed his nose.

he pulled out two pink tickets between his fingers as if he was holding a card—mischief riddled in his wide eyes.

"how did you-" you gasped.

"i got them the day before you asked me.. because i wanted to ask you" he whispered between you, his eyes crossed over your face before landing on your own—staring so deeply, with his head slightly tilted.

"of course i'll go with you, thank you baby" you tilted your head forward—just enough so your nose was nudging his.

"everything?"

"everything."

had to reference the anime that broke my heart for the first time.

Going to a school where everyone around you got what they wanted was torture. Especially for someone like you. You don't come from a wealthy family like the other students do. Some people would call your home life unfortunate if they knew. Which is exactly why almost no one knows. 

You only got accepted into this school because of a scholarship program, after endless studying, and trying to stay focused at your old school, that was your out.

It was hard though, with the bullying, the mean comments, trying to remain sane while everyone in your life pushed and pointed like you were some object for observation and critiquing. 

But at your new school, people actually leave you alone. You've been attending here for a few months now. As a natural observer it only took 1 to understand the dynamic of the people here.

From the designer hand bags, to the freshly blown out hair, the girls here were not only gorgeous but also had the money to maintain things like that, it was obvious why they didn't bother you. Because you weren't a threat. 

Just like any other school there's always those cliques, the groups of people who hang around the same circle. Yours happens to be you and two other girls, your first friends you made here, Lyla and Gigi.

You have a hard time telling if they pity you, they know your situation. How your mother constantly tries to live off the wealth of other men, they know you don’t live in a good area—

“Oh my gosh he totally looked at me, didn't he look at me?” Lyla says, eyes darting between you and Gigi.

“He quite literally looks at anything with boobs Ly..” Gigi says, taking a bite of the school cafeterias fries.

“Come on, at least feed into my delusions a little bit” She says, stealing one of your fries.

You turn your head slightly, three tables back sits the most known group of boys in the whole school. Football players. Typical.

“You’re talking about Heeseung right?” you say turning back to your friends. “Obviously! I mean with Gigi being Jay’s sister obviously he knows who I am right?” She says, eyes wide

“Yeah- im sure he does, don't they hang out a ton after school and stuff too?” You ask, playing with the salad on your plate with a fork.

“Yup! At Gigi’s too, most of the time, and especially after practice, when they're hot and sweaty-”

“Okay gross. my brother is on that team” Gigi says, gagging

You've been to her house a few times, whether it was for one of your group projects, or to help her out with some school work, Slept over often too, I mean her house was huge.

Her parents even offered to have you sleep in one of the 6 guest bedrooms. But Lyla said it doesn't count as a sleepover if we’re not all together.

“Incoming, 12 o’clock.” Lyla says looking past your shoulder at the group of boys.

“How much you wanna bet she’s gonna yell at him” Gigi says, making you turn around, you watch as a familiar blonde haired girl you've seen around campus storms into the cafeteria, heels clicking on the ground as she approaches them.

“Jake where the fuck were you!” She yells, glaring at the dark haired boy, number 15 on the football team. You only know that because Lyla made you go through the list of them to figure out which one Heeseung was. 

You watch him, the way his eyes never leave his phone when he speaks. “God- What do you not fucking understand about where done?” He says finally looking up at her, the other guys around him look like they're watching a movie while they observe the interaction.

“But you didn't even-” she starts “Clara I don't want to hear your bullshit okay? Just leave me alone.” He says, tone irritated.

“Fine- you know you're just like all the other guys. Only talking to girls just to get your dick wet.”You watch the way her grip tightens on her designer bag.

“You didn't seem to mind.” He says, making the guys around him let out the laughs they've been holding.

“Fuck you- you’re so going to regret this!” She says, and you watch as he rolls his eyes and focuses back on his phone

“She looks like she's about to throw a tantrum” Gigi says, making your attention go back to your friends

“I mean Jake knew what he was getting into when they started..messing around" Lyla says. 

You just nod, half listening before turning your head again to look at the group, they’re back to laughing, probably at the interaction that just happened.

“-and then we can order pizza or something, it’s the perfect night for it too! You in y/n?” Lyla says, and you look at them confused “Huh?”

“Girl, The Victoria's Secret fashion show duh, it's live tonight.” She says "Gigi's house obviously since you know, movie theater room” 

“I love the way you volunteered my own place, But yeah, my house tonight” She says shrugging 

“Um- I dont know guys..I kind of have to study-”

“Y/n it's friday night. Come on, you have all weekend to study, please!” She says looking at you with those infamous puppy dog eyes

“Fine, fine ill be there, what time?” You ask, picking up your phone. 

“Like 7 ish?” Lyla says, looking at Gigi who just nods, “Yeah, Jay won't be home either, pretty sure him and his friends are going to some party.”

“Your parents are letting him?” Lyla asks, brow raising.

 “They're not even home, they literally left for their anniversary trip not even 3 hours ago.” Gigi says checking her phone. “So it will just be us then? she nods.

The rest of the day is a blur, between trying to set up tutoring appointments with your counselor, because apparently it looks good to help other students, and trying to finish your own work so you can actually go to Gigi’s.

You mentally prepare yourself to ask your mom if you can go tonight, hoping she's in a good mood. Knocking lightly on her bedroom door “Mom?” you ask quietly and the door swings open, you take in her attire, the club dress, the really tall heels, her hair and make up done. 

“You’re going on another date?” You ask brow raising 

“Yeah, remember that guy from the bar I told you about, Chris?" She says smiling, you nod even though you don't remember her saying a thing about him. 

“Right- um well I was just wondering if I can go to Gigi’s tonight? I finished my homework and stuff and its also friday so-” 

“Sure” She says, and you pause. It must be because she's going on a date, because you would have gotten a whole lot more shit. 

“Can you sleep over too.” It's not a question. 

“Uh- I can ask” You say shrugging

“Well just try too okay? Im about to leave” She says, putting in her earrings and giving you a very rare kiss on your forehead before walking out the door, leaving you confused as ever.

Its like the universe was on your side when you opened your phone to see the group chat messages 

Lyla: Gigi we should just have a sleepover

Lyla: It's already gonna be late when the live is done too

Lyla: Plus we haven't had one in so long

Gigi: yeah I was literally going to ask if you guys wanted to stay the night anyway lol

Lyla: YAY! Good because my bags already packed

Gigi: Y/n can u come too?

You: Yup! I'll be there

You set your phone down so you can focus on packing an overnight bag, you don't need to overdress either, so you settle on wearing some shorts, a hoodie, and fluffy socks with slippers, this is a sleepover after all

When you get to Gigi's house- no, mansion, because this can't even compare to your house. Lyla comes running out

"You're late!” She says, grabbing your bags from you “It's like 10 minutes-” 

“And the show starts in 20!” she says frantically, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the house

You dont think you’ll ever get over how nice it is, from the high ceilings to the expensive paintings on the wall, and the pool in the backyard, probably way too big for a family of four.

You catch the faint smell of popcorn from the kitchen, as Lyla places your bags by the stairs, “Where's Gigi?” you ask 

“Shes setting up in the movie room, im trying to finish the popcorn” Lyla says going to the kitchen

You walk down the hall you've grown familiar with, observing the pictures on the wall of Gigi's family 

“Y/n- how do you disconnect a Playstation from the TV? Jay didn't even bother to.” She says, clicking random buttons on the remote. You laugh walking over to help her

୨♡୧

“Okay all I have to say is when I get married and stuff, im making my husband buy me that specific set.” Lyla says over the runway music, making you and Gigi laugh because she practically yells over how loud it is. 

You open your mouth to speak but stop when all three of your eyes go to the door as it opens, Heeseung walks in pausing as his eyes go to the large TV screen “Holy shit- are you guys watching porn?” He says, looking at the model on the stage, the space instantly feels smaller as Sunghoon pushes  past him to get in the room “We’re not watching porn!” Gigi says, pausing the TV

Lyla is just staring at Heeseung, Jay walks in next “Gigi what the hell are you watching-”

“Did we interrupt your group gooning session?” Heeseung says. You watch Gigi's face flush red, now clearly visible since Jay turned on the lights. 

“Jay- You said you were going to that stupid ass party tonight!” She says walking over to him “Yeah well it got cancelled.” He says, rolling his eyes. “Bruh I've been wanting to play the ps5 all day” Sunghoon says before looking at the TV again 

“Do we not literally have a room for you to do just that?” Gigi says, eyeing down Sunghoon, before looking back at her brother.

“Dude someone left a whole bag of popcorn in the microwave-” Jake walks in pausing when he sees everyone in here, his eyes land on you for a split second before looking at the TV “What are they watch-” 

“Its not fucking porn! You all are so stupid!” Gigi says before her eyes snap back to Jay “I literally said I was having Y/n and Lyla over in our messages!”  

“Yeah well I forgot” He rolls his eyes again, you cant help but observe the other four boys, you watch Heeseungs eyes, following them to Lyla.. that has to be considered eye fucking. 

You can't help but look at Jake though, he's wearing glasses. Are they prescription? He’s looking at something on his phone. He just showed Sunghoon something on his phone that made him smile. Sunghoon looks at you for a second before nudging Jake's shoulder, Jake is looking at you- is he looking behind you? You turn your head slightly, before looking back at him, why is he smirking- 

“Fine! You keep the movie room well just go in the living room. Just don't snitch” Jay pleads, not even embarrassed that he's begging in front of his friends, Gigi just beams proudly, knowing she's won when they walk out.

୨♡୧

“She’s a virgin?!” Jake practically yells, making Heeseung, and Sunghoon's eyes snap to him. 

“You’re so fucking lucky the movie room is noise cancellation.” Jay says pinching his eyebrows 

“And- I don't even know if it's true, I just over heard Gi talking on the phone with her and Lyla a few weeks back” Heeseung and Sunghoons attention on the movie long forgotten 

“Are you talking about y/n?” Heeseung asks curiously 

“There's no way, I mean yeah she's like quiet and shit but she has some experience right?” Sunghoon adds

“I don't know man, but her and Gi became friends at the beginning of the school year, she's been over a few times. She's pretty chill.” Jay says 

“So she doesn't have a boyfriend?” Jake asks, brow raising 

“I thought you liked them experienced Jake? You fuck with little virgins now or what?” Heeseung says smirking 

“I mean she’s cute, nothing wrong with teaching her a thing or two” Jake says with a knowing look on his face

“She doesn't really talk to guys though–like at all. Gi always complains that she’s too busy studying. But she's hella smart, tutoring and shit-”

“Wait, she tutors?” Jake's ears perk up at that

“Yeah she came over to help Gigi with chem the other day.” Jay says casually, like he didn't just give him the golden ticket to your personal space

“Are you serious?” Sunghoon says looking at him

Heeseung glances between the two, picking up what they're hinting at. “It's kinda risky, I mean girls like that- they aren't like, easy you know? Plus you're literally one of the smartest on the team.” 

“You think she's actually gonna be interested though?” Jay asks

“I bet she'll see through that shit the first tutoring lesson honestly” Sunghoon says, making Heeseung laugh

“You think I only pull the easy ones?” Jake watching the both of them

“Thats all you’ve done this whole time-” Heeseung starts

“Alright bet.” Jake says, making the three of them pause

“Bet?” 

“Yeah, I'll get her to fall for me.” Jake says confidently 

“Yeah right” Heeseung adds

“Shit- I mean what about Clara though?” Sunghoon asks

“What about her? Im not fucking her anymore”

“You realise the shit she's gonna give y/n if you actually go through with that?” Jay says

“You’re basically setting her up for failure, Claras fucking crazy.” Heeseung says

“I still dont know why you decided to fuck her in the first place” he adds

“Probably because of her personality.” Jay says through a laugh

“Nah fuck her, she wont mess with y/n like that, shes not that desperate.” Jake says, but deep down he doesn't know if it's 100% true. Is he really setting you up for failure with this?

He's pulled from his thoughts when you come walking out of the movie room, coincidentally.

He only saw you sitting down, but now he's taking you in fully. Hoodie, shorts, fluffy…cat socks.

You pause when you see them all staring at you before awkwardly smiling and going to the kitchen to grab more popcorn.

Lyla and Gigi sent you out because they got it last time, but that's when there wasn't a group of guys you hardly knew in the living room. 

Jay nudges Jake's shoulder before glancing to the kitchen, hesitating a beat before standing up and walking over. 

You're looking through the five different popcorn options, who even needs that much popcorn anyway.

He watches as you choose the ‘extra butter’ one before speaking “Good choice” He says, walking further into the kitchen

“Oh- um thanks, it's the best one” You say, opening the microwave to put the popcorn in, he looks down at your legs, then back at your face when you turn around

“Y/n right?” He says, watching your face

“Yeah, I know who you are already though.” fingers toying with the end of your hoodie

“Oh? You've been to a game?” He says, taking a step closer 

“No- I mean, I don't really watch football like that or anything- or sports” You say, looking back at how much time is on the popcorn, 50 seconds. 

50 more seconds of this extremely weird interaction between you and one of the most popular guys in school. 

He notices, he doesn't like that. “Y’know we have the same 3rd block.”

“Oh- AP Anatomy & Physiology?" You ask, but you know exactly what he's talking about, how could you not. He’s the 9th one to arrive in class everyday, everyone swarms his desk like a bunch of baby ducks just to talk to him. 

“Yeah, I sit in the third row-” He's pauses when the beep of the microwave interrupts him, you silently thank the universe before pulling the popcorn out and mumbling something like “enjoy your movie” before practically running back to the movie room, leaving Jake confused, but also intrigued, most girls fall to their knees the second he gets within a 5 feet radius, so why did you just run away..

He walks back to the living room, sitting down, “Told you, easy ones only” Heeseung says through a laugh

୨♡୧

You're the first person to walk into AP Anatomy & Physiolgy on Monday, as always. You take your usual assigned, unassigned seat in the back row by the window, unpacking your bag, getting settled.

Your teacher walks in shortly after, she’s gotten used to you being here first. “Y/n” she says over the silence “Yes?”

“Are you okay with talking about how you're offering tutoring?” setting her own stuff down

"I'll have you do it at the end of class.” she adds. “Oh- yeah, I printed flyers for it too.” You say, and she smiles.

The students slowly file in, your eyes flick up to the door when the 9th person comes in. Jake.

The second he walks in his eyes are on you, you don't know why you feel hot all the sudden, like someone turned up the heater when he looks at you

Barely having any time to take in his outfit, you tap your pen on your paper, hoodie and jeans maybe?

You stop when you see the familiar frame take a seat next to you- Why is Jake sitting next to you, does he not always sit in the third row- You don't look at him, instead looking down at his shoe in your peripheral vision, because it would be weird to look at him. Even if you do feel his eyes on you. 

The class flies by, you write down whatever your teacher puts on the board, trying not to be distracted by the noticeable presence beside you, if he had an aura around him, it would be clashing into yours because this whole time you've been weirdly affected by his close proximity. 

“..And y/n has something to say as well.” Your teacher says, pulling you from your thoughts,you watch as everyone's heads turns to you before you stand up and walk to the front, clearing your throat

“Hi- im offering tutoring for anyone who needs extra help, any subject, um- here are the flyers if you're interested.” you say quickly before placing them on the teachers desk and walking back to your seat.

There's nothing you hate more than public speaking like that, you try to subtly calm your breathing. Jakes eyes are focused on you the whole time.

As soon as the bell rings you’re practically already out the door, Jake watches you stand up abruptly and rush out before he goes to the teachers desk to grab one of the flyers.

୨♡୧

“I don't know- she didn't even spare me a glance, like at all.” Jake says, setting his bag down on the bench in the locker room

“I told you, she doesn't talk to guys like that” Jay mutters, tying his shoe

“Pretty boy lost his charm huh?” Heeseung chuckles, shutting the door behind him

“Not completely” Jake says, pulling out your tutoring flyer from his bag

“You sneaky motherfucker-” Sunghoon eyes him, grabbing the paper from his hands

“Holy shit- you're actually going through with that?” Heeseung looks over Sunghoon's shoulder

“Just to prove a point?” Sunghoon asks

Jake doesn’t have time to reply before the Coach comes in, yelling at them to ‘get the fuck out the locker room’

୨♡୧

As soon as you get home, you pause when you see a suitcase by the door. “Oh y/n- took you long enough, you remember Chris right?” She say’s coming out of her room with a duffel bag

“The guy you went on a date with?” You ask, seting your backpack down

“Yeah, the rich one” She says with a smirk

“Anyways, he’s taking me to Boston for a trip!” She says excitingly

“Boston- what? Didnt you just meet him though?” You ask, brow raising in confusion 

“I think he might be the one” She says smiling, the same smile she’s put on every time she says that.

“Um- well how long?” you ask, trying to register this whole thing

“Hmm- like 2 and half weeks-”

“2 and a half?! Mom- what the hell?”

“Calm down, I hate when you get like this y/n.” She says, putting her duffel bag on her shoulder

“Theres money for food, and whatever you need on the counter. It's not like I'm leaving you here to starve.” 

“But-”

“Shit- I gotta go, ill call you when we land okay?” She says, giving you an awkward side hug before rushing out, leaving you confused as ever. This is what always happens though so you don't know why you're confused. She’s probably just doing it for the money anyway. Marry a rich man, use him to provide for us. It's pathetic.

The time was 9:46 when you receive the message. A number you don't know, you click on it

Unknown: Hey, Is this y/n?

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I got this number from your tutoring flyers

sitting up, this is the first person to actually text you about that

You: Oh yeah, what subject do you need help with?

Unknown: AP Anatomy & Physiology

You: Okay perfect, I have an A in that class so I can definitely help

You get your notebook out and a pencil

You: How soon do you want to start? And what's your first and last name

Unknown: Can we start tomorrow? I have practice everyday except Tuesdays

Practice? No way. You feel your heart beat pick up, This cant be–

Unknown: First names Jake, last names Sim.

The Jake Sim is texting you, about.. Tutoring. Is he not one of the top students though? You take a deep breath before typing back a reply

You: Okay, Tomorrow works. Does after school in the library work for you?

Jake Sim: Yeah im good with that

Jake Sim: I’ll see you tomorrow y/n

You shut your phone off, trying to ignore the way your palms are sweating a little too much right now, who even uses peoples names like that in messages?

Jake smiles down at his phone before swiping out of the chat.

୨♡୧

You're early. You're also early everywhere you go. You already set up your computer, and notebook with his name at the top, even after you erased it 3 times.

He walks in, you notice immediately, looking up from your paper, his hair is framing his face, no glasses today. White shirt with jeans. He smiles before sitting down across from you, you smile back, trying to seem less awkward.

You try to remind yourself, this is a mere tutoring lesson, so you'll act like it.

“So I just need to know what you're struggling on before we actually get into the teaching stuff.” you say looking at him, his eye contact is intense, it's hard to hold it.

He pulls out his own notebook

“Mainly muscle contractions,heart anatomy, and” He pauses before looking up at you “-Hormones.” You hesitate a beat before writing that down under his name. He notices.

“Okay, I can work with this- is there anything specific you don't understand? Is it a focusing thing?” You ask, genuinely concerned “I actually pulled up your average and you seem to be doing fine-”

“It's my memory” He says quickly “I have a hard time understanding, when the teacher talks it doesn't really comprehend well.” 

“Oh- that's completely normal, are you more hands on?” You ask

He smirks “And visual.”

You look like you're actually deep in thought “Okay so, we would need to do more interactive studying, makes sense.” You say writing more stuff down

He watches you, the way your brows furrow in thought.

“Are you going to the game next Friday?” He says, your eyes flick up to him, confused at the sudden question

“I don't really go to football games or anything- Thats more Lyla and Gigi” You say, eyes traveling down for a split second when his tongue wets his bottom lip

“You should come” He says casually, like time has no affect on him

“We really should stay on task“

“If I pass the test next week will you come?”

Your caught off guard by the question, his heavy gaze on you making it worse

“Um- I’ll think about it” You say before writing more stuff down, he smiles slightly

୨♡୧

The next week goes by quickly, thankfully. Your mom has only called once, claiming she forgot to say she landed, even if it was a day later.

Home is lonely, its quiet but its good for studying. Your thoughts drift to Gigis family sometimes, even though her and her brother argue half the time, at least she has someone.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear your name being called, not by the familiar voice of your friends but by..Jake?

Lyla and Gigi both look behind you, eye brows raised as he comes closer, standing infront of your table in the cafeteria

You watch the way people look at him, the heads turning to you, the attention—it’s too much

“Y/n” He says looking down at you

“I might be a little late for tutoring today, coach wants to talk to us about the game.” He says, making Lyla and Gigi’s eyes flick between you two

“Um- Okay, But you couldn’t have messaged me that?” you say, trying to ignore the gazes on you from people you’ve never spoken to in your life.

“I mean you were already here so-“

“Yeah just text me next time okay?” You say, avoiding eye contact

He looks over at his friends, watching their snickers. Oh hell no.

You think he’s going to walk away by now but he sits down, right next to you. That makes Lyla's jaw practically drop

“Why? You don’t like talking to me?” He says, watching you intently

“I never said that- you just cause a lot of..attention.” You say, looking around before looking at him

“You don’t like attention?”

“Not from this many people.” You say standing up, grabbing your bag

“Where are you going-“

“I have to go.” You mumble before putting your bag over your shoulder and walking out the cafeteria, not looking back because you know if you do, everyones eyes will be on you.

As soon as the doors shut behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Really?” Gigi asks, watching Jakes confused face

“You realize you’re like a magnet for attention right?” Lyla says

“And there’s nothing she hates more then that.”

“I was just asking her about tutoring.” Jake says, standing up to walk back to his friends

“Nice job man, you really do still got it huh?” Heeseung says through a smirk, making the others stifle their laughs

“Should’ve put money on it” Sunghoon adds, earning a glare from Jake

୨♡୧

Jake came in late like he said, 15 minutes to be exact. He looked out of breath, like he ran here.

The tutoring session was fine, you kept that professional exterior even if you were trying not to feel embarrassed about earlier, thankfully he didn't bring it up.

“Aren't hormones just when you're horny?” He asks, pencil raised above his paper, looking at you

You pause “Did you really just ask me that-” You didn't mean to say it out loud but you did, it makes him let out a chuckle, he bites his lip, something he does often, a little too often. To the point where you can't help your eyes follow when he does it.

“Okay um, let me think of how to word this” you say, looking down at your paper before back up at him “It’s not just what makes you- ‘horny’ but I guess that could be a way to describe it, a more..scientifical word is Steroid Hormones..”

He watches you talk, even if what your saying is hardly registering to him, because not only are you talking to him about sex hormones or whatever it is, but you're not wearing the same knit sweater you had on earlier, you must have taken it off, because he cant pull his eyes away from the way your tits look in that tank top-

“Jake?” Your voice cuts through his thoughts, his eyes find yours again.

“How are you supposed to pass this test when you can’t even focus?” You ask, completely unaware of how he was just looking at you

“Shit- sorry, what were you saying” He says a little bit more nervously than he intended, why is he so damn nervous, why do you even make him nervous? 

“Hm, you need something to do with your hands.” You say casually, taking him by surprise

His mind races with what you mean, please, please ask him to finger you.

He pauses when you pull out a rubix cube, a fucking rubix cube and hand it to him- what the fuck is he supposed to do with this shit?

“You said you were more hands on, one of the other students I tutor is also like that. Whenever she uses that, it's like she’s more focused, you should try it.” You say smiling, encouraging.

He doesn't know why he feels relieved when he hears the word ‘she’, but he does.

He takes the object from your hand, fidgeting with it for a few seconds before you continue

The rest of the lesson is smooth, who knew a rubix cube would actually work. You try to stay focused yourself though.

The constant bounce of your leg to settle whatever your feeling when you watch the way his fingers work the object in his hand, it should be illegal to have that many veins in the first place.

Later that night, in one of your moments where you give yourself a break from studying.

Heating up the leftover pasta you made the other night, you get a text. Your body reacts before your mind does, heartbeat picking up

Jake Sim: I tried the practice test thing you showed me earlier

Jake Sim: Got a 100% 

You smile, when he sends a picture of his laptop, the score on it saying just that

You: Good job

He frowns at his phone, that's all? No titty pic as a reward?

Jake Sim: Guess I'll be seeing you at Friday's game then :)

You: Well see if your studying shows then

Jake Sim: I'll make sure it does

୨♡୧

“Y/N!” you hear Jake yell after you, you stop to turn around, seeing him walking up to you, leaving Heeseung and Jay’s side as he comes into step beside you.

You’re still not used to the pointed looks you get from the people around you, but you're training yourself to pretend they aren't there.

Heeseung and Jay watch as Jake rushes to you like a damn puppy, looking at each other.

He hands you a paper, you take it looking down at the big 100% on the top “You actually did it!” You say smiling, before looking up at him beside you

He puts a hand on his chest, with a fake gasp “And to think you doubted me” He stops at the cafeteria door, pulling you aside before you walk in, facing you away from the people who keep looking at you. The nosy motherfuckers who can’t help but take attention to you ever since he’s became—friends? With you.

“So you'll come to the game then right?” He asks, doing that thing where he bites his lip

“Thats what we agreed on, plus Lyla and Gigi are going too” You say, watching the way his eyes light up

The last few people file in the cafeteria, leaving you and him alone. 

“Y’know what the theme is right?” He asks, and this time you're genuinely caught off guard- theme? He notices your confusion right away 

“Every game has a theme, pretty sure this one’s western, like cowboys and shit” He says watching your face, the way your eyebrows knit in uncertainty

“Lyla and Gigi didn't tell you?”, you shake your head softly

“Im surprised- they always go like all out for the themes” He says through a quiet laugh

Great. That only means they are going to make you go all out too.

You both pause when the final bell rings, walking in to the cafeteria like its the most normal thing, your steps falter when you feel the eyes on you, you look at your friends before glancing at Jakes group- why are they all staring at you-

“I’ll see you later y/n” He smiles before walking to his table, you sit down in front of Lyla and Gigi who are both looking at you knowingly

“What?” you say through an awkward laugh

“You know damn well what” Lyla says through a smirk

“Tutoring my ass” Gigi adds back

“Girl I do not look at my tutor like that” Lyla says, holding back a laugh

“Like what-?”

“Like I want to eat him the fuck up- because thats how The Jake sim was just looking at your ass-” You almost choke on your water, making her and Gigi laugh

You look down at the table to hide your blush “Well, you guys also didnt tell me there was a theme at the game.” You say, crossing your arms

“Okay when was the last time you checked the group chat y/n” Gigi asks, you pull out your phone

“This morning..” You say scrolling through the message thread

Lyla: Okay so what are we wearing tn

Gigi: Themes cowboy right?

Gigi: You know how much my mom and dad LOVE that costume shit

Gigi: I have so much stuff for it at my house

Lyla: Wow gigi inviting us over

Gigi: I can take u guys home after school

Lyla: YES

Lyla: We have to look GOOD, especially you y/n

Lyla: For you know

Gigi: Jake

Lyla: Okay shes probs not even on her phone

You swipe out, just to see if your mom said anything, you click on the messages to see a sunset picture and city buildings, typical.

“So, can you come?” Lyla asks

“Yeah sure- but we don’t have to go all out right?”

They look at each other before looking at you, the smile on their faces tells you everything you need to know

୨♡୧

“This feels like a lot..” You say looking at your outfit in her bedroom mirror

“No y/n- you look like, hot.” Lyla says, choosing one of the 7 cowboy hats Gigi brought out

“This is the final touch” She says before putting it on your head

This is quite literally the opposite of you, completely. It’s something you would never wear if it weren't for them, you wonder what your old self before you transferred schools would think. From the white fitted shirt, to the jean skirt, down to the—cowboy boots..

You adjust the red bandana on your neck so its not choking you uncomfortably

Gigi watches your worried face “I promise the others will be doing 10x more than us.” She reassures you, you look at them in the mirror, Lyla's shorts that hug her curves, Gigi’s shirt that compliments her body perfectly.

This feels very..them. You can't help but feel like an outsider trying to fit in.

“Jake will love it” Lyla says, hiding her smirk

“What- Jake?” The thought of Jake seeing you in this makes you nervous..but also exited? What would he think, would he expect you to wear this?

You're pulled from your thoughts when the man himself sends you a message

Jake Sim: Hey y/n were gonna grab food after the game

Jake Sim: Wanna come?

Jake Sim: Lyla and Gigi can come to

Jake Sim: I already told Jay not to bitch abt it lol

Your fingers hover over the screen

"Quadruple text is crazy” Lyla says through a smile

Gigi peaks over your shoulder “I do not want to hang out with my brother for fun.” She says, rolling her eyes

“Come on Gi! The others will be there too and! Heeseung’s fine ass” Lyla says, looking in the mirror to adjust her push up bra

Gigi just puts on her boots with a shrug

“Y/n say yes please!” Lyla says, practically jumping up and down

“Fine- fine” 

You: Yeah sure.

“Um- Thats all?” Lyla asks 

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know, maybe say something like ‘I'm so excited!’ or ‘good luck!- you know what just give me the phone.” Lyla says snatching it from your hand and sending a message

You: Good luck Jakey! I'll be cheering you on! ;)

“What the hell- is there a way to delete this, how do I-” 

“Really Ly? He’s gonna know thats not y/n, she like never uses emojis” Gigi says cringing 

“Maybe if he wins he'll give you good dick?” Lyla says shrugging 

Your face goes red, this topic, talking about him-

Jake Sim: Haha thanks y/n :) 

“See, completely normal!” Lylas practically beaming

“Yeah so that definitely wasn't her” Jake says putting on his cleats

“Jakey? Really?” Sunghoon mimicks 

“I wouldn’t doubt if Lyla took her phone honestly.” Jay mutters

“Lyla's coming right?” Heeseung asks, putting on his jersey

His friends look at him “Why?”

“I mean shes hot as fuck dude, plus she totally looks at me all the time” He adds, fixing his hair in the locker mirror

“Yeah she's coming” Jake says, looking back down at the messages

୨♡୧

When you, Gigi, and Lyla get to the game a little earlier, they were not joking about people going all out. Compared to everyone else, your outfit was tame to say the least.

You three find a spot in the bleachers, your eyes scanning the field for one specific person.

You watch him, he’s drinking water on the side right now- his helmet is in his other hand, how can someone look so good drinking water.

You watch as Heeseung nudges Jake's shoulder beside him, and then Jake's eyes are on you

“Holy fuck” He says to Heeseung

You cant see what they’re saying 

“I mean she looks like a cowboys wet dream” Heeseung says, smirking

Jake gives him a pointed look, before turning back to you, the distance is good enough for him to see the way your skirt clings to your legs, and how good that shirt looks on you, Fuck. 

He waves at you, you look behind to see if it was someone else but there's no one behind you yet, you turn back to see him smiling at you before offering a small wave back

Lyla and Gigi are both watching from beside you, eyes flicking between you and Jake

You watch as Heeseung yells at him, and as he puts his helmet on before running over to him, a smile that wont go away ever since he saw you plastered on his face

“You sure you're not just doing this for the love of the game” Heeseung says, putting in his mouth guard 

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. A statement that might be right. Because this doesn't feel like some childish bet anymore.

The first half of them game goes well, you dont really understand much. But from the way Lyla, Gigi, and the rest of the students are cheering, thats definitely a good sign. “Im going to get water, do you guys want any?” you say, stepping off the bleachers 

“Yeah- soda?” Lyla says, before looking back at the field where a very sweaty heeseung is spraying water in his mouth

You nod before walking to the concessions, the line isn't too bad, so you just pull out your phone to scroll, when two girls come behind you, you wouldn't care normally but its what they're talking about that makes your hand pause over your screen

“I mean he hasn't even looked at me this whole time, which is crazy because not even a month ago he had me sucking his dick!” One of the girls says, you look down to see pink cowboy boots

“His very big dick” Her friend says

“Ridiculously big. Fuck I miss it im not gonna lie.” 

“Isn’t he fucking with a new girl now though?” You hear her friend say, you watch as the person in front of you takes way too long to order

“Yeah some nerd ass bitch, teachers pet apparently” 

“I don't know Clara, she's like hella smart” 

You shut your eyes for a second, Clara, you recognize that name. That's the same girl who yelled at Jake in the cafeteria that one time

“I don't care how smart she is, that's literally my man” 

“Girl- he literally dropped your ass in front of the whole cafeteria..”

Your attention is brought back when it's your turn to order, you pay for the drinks before going back, doing your best to avoid turning around.

“Y/n?” Lyla says, when you hand her the sprite

“You look like you've seen a ghost, are you good?” Gigi asks, concern laced in her tone

“Yeah im good” You say offering a tight smile, the bandana on your neck suddenly feeling too tight.

It feels like someone has their hand around your heart, squeezing it, because why did hearing those things make you feel this way– Why is Jake even talking to you? Why did he even invite you in the first place?

You watch as the starting players go back on the field, but your mind can't focus when all these questions are flooding in. What does someone like him even want with you.

୨♡୧

You look down at your phone 

Jake Sim: Hey me and the guys will be out in 5 mins

You read the message, before putting your phone in the pocket of your skirt, people are still hanging around, the players usually shower after a game apparently.

Exactly 5 minutes later Jake comes out, jeans, and a black zip up hoodie with a white shirt underneath, his bag is on his shoulder, his hair is still wet from the shower, and you cant help the heat that goes to your face when he waves to you.

You look past him to see the rest of his friends coming out behind him, you see Heeseung whisper something in Jake's ear that makes him roll his eyes.

“Good job- you were great out there” You say, fixing the cowboy hat on your head

“I had good motivation” He says, eyes on your face before they drift to your clothes, finally seeing you up close like this.

“Alright can we go now? Im hungry as fuck.” Jay says, interrupting the moment

You turn to Lyla, who's talking to Heeseung, then to Gigi who shrugs

“Y/n, I can drive us” Jake says, bringing your attention back to him

“Oh its fine I dont-”

“That's a great Idea!” Lyla says a little too loud, making everyone's eyes go to her 

“Theres not enough room in Gigi's car for all of us anyway, so it works out” She adds, calculating smile plastered on her face, she ignores the pointed look you give her

“Alright yeah whatever can we just go now before I die of starvation” Jay says, making Gigi roll her eyes “fat ass.” She mutters before walking to her car

“You did not just call me a fat ass Gi- Weren’t you the one who ate all the fucking leftovers-” You and Jake watch them walk to the car, before you and him walk to his.

You curse Lyla for leaving you with him like this- when he smells so good and his hair is wet, and his hands-

“You look really pretty,” He says, putting his bag in the trunk before opening the passenger door for you. “Thank you-” You reply back quietly, trying to ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest.

But how many other girls has he said that too- that girl Clara? 

He gets in the Drivers seat, and starts the car, watching the way you look out the window. Immediately noticing the way you shift

“So, for the first football game you went to, how was it?” he says pulling out of the parking lot

You turn slightly to look at him, the way his face concentrates on the rode, but also managing to talk to you “It was fun” You smile before looking back out the window

“Did you get anything from the concessions? I heard they added slushies and stuff.” He says, tapping his finger on the steering wheel, trying to seem unbothered by the way your energy shifted the second you stepped foot in his car

The mention of drinks has your mind going back to the conversation you heard earlier, what if those girls had knew you where the one they were talking about–

“Yeah just some, um..water and stuff” You say, trying to avoid the way his eyes are pinned on your head

4 minutes of silence pass, except for the low music playing from the speakers, and the car's engine.

“Is everything good?” He asks, eyes flicking between you and the road ahead

“What– yeah of course, why wouldn't it be.” You say quickly, fingers toying with the hem of your jean skirt.

He doesn't buy it.

Your brows furrow in confusion when he pulls over, looking at him as he puts the car and park “What are you doing-”

“Tell me what's wrong” he says, hand still on the steering wheel, but eyes on you

“Nothing's wrong?” You feel that familiar heaviness on your chest

“Y/n. you can't even look at me, did I do something?” He asks, knuckles white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel

“You can tell me whatever it is-”

“Why do you talk to me?” You ask, finally looking at him

“I..I just don't understand– all the sudden it goes from you not even looking at me, and then you're asking to be tutored by me, and then you invite me to your game, and then im in your car-” you continue, your heart beat rising with how much words you're saying in one breath. He doesn't interrupt you.

“And I really didn't think you needed to be tutored, honestly, you're one of the top students in our class- no, in our grade. But I did anyway, it honestly just feels like you pity me. Because why would someone like you want to be friends with someone like me– It just doesn't make any sense.” You stop, breathing in heavy breathes, too aware of how close he is right now, how he's looking at you.

“I don't pity you y/n. I like spending time with you.” He says, watching your face

“Fuck- I mean, I took the flyer and the tutoring because I wanted to spend that time with you- whenever I tried to talk to you any other way you just– blew me off?” He says, contemplating his words

He looks down at his hands before back up at you, noticing the way your features slightly soften

He lifts his hand to take the hat off your head, so he can fully see your face

“Why would someone like me want to be friends with you?” He repeats your question, you didn't realise how close you two got, faces nearly an inch away from each other

“I don't want to be friends y/n. I want more than that–I fucking crave more than that” His gaze drops to your lips, a silent question

“Jake-” You whisper out before he presses his lips to yours,you instantly melt at the contact, your hand finds the collar of his shirt, attempting to tug him closer over the center console, his hand holds the back of your head, threading his finger in your hair, he moves his lips against yours, slowly, testing, you follow his lead, letting go instead of taking control. He feels the way you let him, unable to hold the small groan that travels its way to your mouth through the kiss.

You pull back, breathing hard, opening your eyes to look at him, his lips have a slight shine from your saliva, he licks them before looking into your eyes.

You don't know what you're doing, you've never even done anything like this before, but the way he’s looking at you, like you absolutely wrecked him gives you a new found confidence.

You sit up, before moving to get over the center console, he just watches you as you settle on his lap, his hands immediately resting on your waist “y/n-”

“just kiss me” You say, and he doesnt hesitate before pressing his lips against yours, this time its lessed controlled, he doesnt hold himself back.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, his hands are touching everywhere, sliding up and down your back, before cupping your ass in his hands making you gasp into his mouth, he swallows that down, tongue running over your bottom lip.

You feel the heat pooling between your legs, shifting slightly, which makes him let out a broken sound before looking down, the way your skirt is riding up, how you’re sitting right on his hardening cock, he looks back at your face, kissing the corner of your mouth before he pulls you on him more, the friction making you let out a quiet sound– he needs to fucking hear it again, and you need to feel it again. 

It starts off slow, testing, in the way you roll your hips on him, you watch him throw his head back “Fuck, baby-” You grind down a little harder, in response to the name, he rolls his hips with you, the seam of his jeans catching your clit just right through your underwear, enough to make you let out small sounds that has his eyes rolling

He leans in to kiss you again, hands splayed on your ass to pull you impossibly closer, the kiss is desperate, frantic, tongues moving together in a rhythm like you were made for each other, there's no leader, no follower, this is just- the two of you.

“J-jake–” you let out, biting your lip when he grinds up, hitting the perfect spot, hes pulling you against him, controlling the way your hips move, fingers digging into the soft flesh through your skirt, He slides his hand underneath the denim fabric, to really feel you, groaning into your mouth at how warm and soft you are in his hands.

“You’re going to kill me-” You both freeze when a loud ringtone comes from his phone.

“Shit- I forgot about the plans” he says, looking at his phone 

Jay: Dude where the hell are you

Jay: Im srsly abt to order with out you

Sunghoon: we got u and y/n waters

Jay: -Missed call-

“We should probably-”

“Yeah”

The warmth of your body is removed like a flash when you sit back down in the passenger seat, fixing your skirt, he tries to ignore the way his dick is throbbing in his jeans right now. Instead he watches you, the flush on your cheeks, the small smile that's barely noticeable

“What?” You say through a chuckle, noticing his stare

“Im just really lucky” He says, before putting the car into drive and getting back on the road, even when you two get out of the car, walking into the restaurant, you’re still thinking about what he said.

Because no one has ever told you they were lucky to have you.

୨♡୧

The next week of school is fun, and easy. You still decide to tutor Jake, because he said it really helped him.

Even if it did lead to small kisses, you definitely weren't complaining. People still look at you two when you walk together in the hallway, he even invited you to sit with him in the caferitria with his friendgroup, they are actually really nice to you.

The best part is seeing Gigi and Jay argue, it's like having your own show to watch while you eat

You don't miss the way Heeseung and Lyla look at each other, or when coincidentally the both of them are late for lunch.

Under the table, Jake's hand is splayed across your thigh, everytime he laughs he squeezes it slightly, which makes you try and close them, but he notices. He notices everything when it comes to you.

“..And not to mention Gigi’s parents bought the good ice cream” Lyla says, practically about to burst from excitement

“Okay so it's like a pool party then?” Sunghoon says, raising his eyebrow

“Well, just like with us though.” Gigi says

“Im not trying to have half the school trash the house, especially when mom and dad get back tomorrow.” She adds, you watch Jay nod

“Im in” Heeseung says, turning to watch Lyla “Perfect! What about you and Jake?” She says turning to you both

“Yeah im down” he smiles before looking at you

“Um- Ill have to check, but ill text you when I get home” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear

“Okay, perfect!” She squeals

“Just come over any time after school then” Jay says

You nod before glancing down at your phone, re reading the message from your mom

Mom: Me and Chris decided to stay a little longer, you have enough money for food still right?

Jake watches you “Are you okay?” he says, quietly so no one else can hear

“Oh yeah- im fine” You say, putting your phone down and smiling

୨♡୧

“I can't do this.” You say as soon as you close Gigi’s bedroom door behind you

They both look at you as you pull out the bathing suit from your tote bag, you watch Gigi cover her mouth to stifle a laugh

“You can’t be serious” Lyla says, standing up to take the middle school one piece swimsuit from your hands

“This thing is hideous” She holds it up in the air

“Im not one to judge but you absolutely cannot wear that y/n” Gigi says, standing up to look at it closer

You bury your face in your hands, sitting down on her bed

“I brought like 5 different bathing suits, plus Gigi has a shit ton, and you are most definitely borrowing one.” Lyla says, emptying her bag on the bed, you glance at the small strings, and shapes before looking up at her 

“What? I wanted to bring my slutty ones, I thought Heeseung would like them” She says smiling proudly

“And im sure jake will” She adds, wiggling her eyebrows

“You’re so ridiculous Ly” Gigi mutters before tying her hair in a bun

You pick up a red triangle bikini top, and Lyla nods

“Good choice, these are the bottoms” She says, holding them up

“These are bottoms? Like swimming bottoms?” you say, taking them from her hand 

“Yup! Just try it on at least” She smiles sweetly, waiting for your approval, you nod

“Come downstairs when you’re done okay?” Gigi says, opening her bedroom door.

You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, The bathing suit fits well, it's just..small. Like if you make one wrong move you'll definitely flash someone. You turn around to see how it looks from the back, not completely terrible- just a bit cheeky?

You think Jake might like it, not to mention the fact that you chose the red one because he mentioned he liked that color.

You pause when you hear the sound of male voices, they must be here. You take one last look at yourself before opening the door and almost getting knocked to your ass when you collide with something hard

“Shit- y/n?” You look up, Jake–Your eyes take in his form, the swim trunks, the white tank top perfectly stretched across his chest. His hair, messy, yet perfectly styled, before looking at his face. He’s smiling down at you

You're suddenly aware that you're practically half naked in front of him, You weren't even planning on going in the water, except for your feet–you need to grab your shorts and put them on “I was just uh, I just need my shorts–” 

His hand trails down your shoulder, grabbing your hand before placing it on his chest, over his heart, you feel the fast beats of it, almost in sync with how quick yours is "You're making me nervous” he whispers, he takes a step forward so he's in the bathroom with you, shutting the door behind him softly

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, testing to see your reaction before he pulls back to look down at you, you put your hands on his shoulders before leaning to kiss him again, he reacts immediately, hands on you the second you touch him, his hand starts at your waist before moving down to cup your ass in his hand, you gasp at the feeling, he kneads the flesh in his hands, squeezing it while kissing you deeper “You look so fucking good baby” He says through heavy breaths, looking at your face

He moves until your pressed against the counter, before lifting you up on it, your legs spread slightly to make room for him, while keeping your lips on his.

The kiss is messy, desperate, his hands are on your hips, and you let out a muffled sound when he presses his hips against you, you feel it, the hardness of him against your thigh, you pull back to see the desperate look on his face, the way his cheeks are slightly red, his lips looking even more plump from your kisses

He takes his right hand from your waist, splaying it on your thigh, before he looks into your eyes, you nod.

You watch his hand inch higher, grazing your inner thigh, his finger tip brushes your core, making you shiver at the contact, he watches you intently before pressing his fingers against you, making you let out a shaken breath

Leaning in to brush his lips across your jaw, before slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of the bathing suit bottoms, finally feeling your warmth “Fuck, you’re so wet–” He says, looking down before kissing your neck, softly, reassuringly 

He starts with small circles around your clit, testing to see what makes you feel good, your legs spread wider when he does small figure eights on your clit, hands braced on his shoulders as he presses open mouthed kisses to your neck, trailing up to your ear

His middle finger brushes your entrance, lightly, while his other hand comes up to move the hair out of your face

“Have you ever been fingered y/n?” He asks, voice low, watching the way your chest falls and rises, you shake your head “Do you want to be?” He says, biting his lip “Y-yes, I want you to, Jake” He presses his hard cock against your thigh, groaning at the permission

He connects his lips to yours, you let him in instantly, tongues dancing together before he slowly guides his finger in your entrance, “breathe baby, you're so tight” he whispers against your lips, you close your eyes when his finger goes deeper, making you let out a quiet moan, his single digit stays there, embraced by your warmth before he curls it slightly making you whimper in his mouth “Jake– “ you let out through a wispy breathe

He moves his thumb to circle around your clit, in lazy motions “can you take another, baby? It’ll feel even better” kissing your cheek softly, you nod and he pulls out his finger, before inserting two digits, making you let out a desperate sound at the stretch.

He kisses you, in attempt to quiet you down, before moving his fingers in and out of you, curling inside, rubbing your clit with practiced ease

Seeing you like this, overhwemled by the pleasure he’s bringing you could make him come right now.

“You’re so perfect baby- this pretty pussy’s taking my fingers so well” He whispers, the filthy things making you clench around his fingers, he adds more pressure to your sensitive bud, “j-jake im gonna-“

“You gonna come for me baby?” slightly picking up the pace his fingers are moving, fucking them in and out of you.

Your moans are only getting louder, he move his other hand to cover your mouth, muffling them so the others don't hear down stairs, he feels your hole fluttering around your fingers, so he moves them even faster, making it his life fucking goal to have you come from this

His eyes dont know what to focus on, switching from the way your tits slightly bounce, to the way his fingers disappear inside you, or to the way you’re looking at him, the dazed half lidded look, he presses against your clit just right, making you clench hard on his fingers as you ride your orgasm out, moaning into his hand, your juices coating his fingers and dripping out, he brings his hand back down from your mouth, watching the way your breathing slows, before pulling out his fingers, the loss of contact making you whimper with how sensitive you are

He brings his fingers up to his lips, locking eyes with you before putting them in his mouth, sucking your arousal off, the sight makes you let out a breathy sound, you can feel your pussy throbbing at the sight from exitement

You’re blushing from the filthy act, he brings his lips to yours capturing you in a kiss, you can slightly taste your arousal on his tounge “You’re so beautiful–” you both freeze when a knock on the bathroom door slices the moment in half

“Jake are you in there man? We’re trying to choose pizza toppings– the girls said they dont care whats on the pizza, they just went outside claming they didnt want to ‘waste tanning time’ I dont know-” jay rambles on

“Yeah im in here, ill be down in a sec” Jake says, forehead resting on yours before he pulls back

“Alright- and if you find y/n tell her to come down too” Jay adds

You and Jake listen to the sound of retreating footsteps

“We should probably go down there” he says, pulling back and helping you get off the counter

“Yeah i just need to get some shorts-” You watch as he pulls your bottoms back up, adjusting them before leaning down to press one more kiss to your lips

“I’ll see you in a few minutes” He says with that familiar smirk on his lips, before walking out and shutting the door behind him, he leans against it for a second, still trying to process what just happened, before adjusting his extremely hard cock in his bottoms, and making his way downstairs.

You look in the mirror, pressing your fingers against your lips, the feeling of him kissing you lingering. Your body is still burning from the aftermath of your orgasm. You fix your hair in the mirror, going back to Gigi’s room to put on your shorts

And finally making your way down the stairs, you pause halfway when you hear Heeseung's voice

“Who y/n?” You hear him say

“Who else dumbass?” Sunghoon replies

They're talking about you. instead of going downstairs you stay there, just to see what they're saying

“Have you told her?” Jay asks

“No–I can’t fucking tell her that”

“Yeah you’re cooked” heeseung says flatly

Cooked?

“I really like her, And not in some casual hook up way okay? I don’t know whats going on, and im confused because ive never felt this way before about someone–” Jake says, breathing hard

“Shit-” You hear his friends say

“I dont give a fuck about some dumb bet, it was stupid of me–”

Your heart drops. Bet? What does he mean by that? 

“God- Why couldn't you just go after her like a normal person” jay says frustratingly

“You realise she’s gonna fucking hate you if you dont tell her” he adds

You walk further down the stairs, watching the way all four of them look at you

“W-what bet” You let out, hating yourself for stuttering

Jake's face drops in realization that you heard that, you don't even look at his friends, the ones who made you think they actually liked you. You just watch him. It was all just some play– 

“What bet Jake?” you say again, trying to calm your heartbeat, as he walks over to you, reaching for your hand

You swat his hand away “dont fucking touch me” and he flinches at that, hardly visibly. But he does. 

“Y/n-” He starts, you watch as the back porch door slides open, Gigi and Lyla walking in, with confused looks at the way everyone’s frozen in place, before their gazes fall on you

“Im going home. I- I can't do this” You say, suddenly too aware of how everyone is looking at you, unable to even look in Jake's eyes, you turn around for the front door, Jake calls your name again but you don't hear it.

Not over the sound of your heart, not over the ringing in your ears.

You can't speak when it feels like someone has a wire around your throat and you can't breathe.

You shut the front door behind you, sitting on the stairs immediately, trying to calm yourself, trying not to cry. You can't cry. Not here.

You don't look behind you when you hear the door open and shut, please don't be Jake.

“Y/n do you want me to drive you home?” you let out a relieved sigh when you hear Gigi’s voice, before standing up and nodding.

Gigi knows you, she knows you don't want to talk right now, so instead of pushing you, she turns up the music, looking at you every now and then as you stare out the window.

“You all can eat shit” Lyla says looking at the four boys in the kitchen 

“Espeicially you Heeseung, for not fucking saying anything.” She says before looking at Jake

“Ly-” Heeseung starts watching Lyla walk over to Jake

“How could you do that to her? You’re fucking terrible.” She says before storming upstairs, leaving the four of them

“I need to do something- I need to call her” Jake says pulling out his phone, Jay stop his hand

“She needs space Jake.” He says, watching him as he lowers his phone

“Fuck.” Is all he says, because Fuck himself for being so stupid, fuck him for hurting you, fuck him for not telling you sooner, if anything he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.

But the least he can do is try.

୨♡୧

You cried as soon as you got home. You held it until Gigi drove off, she offered to stay but you never have people actually come inside.

Part of you regretted it, because you wish you had someone to hold you, even as you crumbled to the floor as soon as you shut the front door.

But you have no one. Not even you’re own mother, whose out with her new boyfriend, living her best life and leaving you in the past, like always.

Later that night you try and rememebr anything—how could you not see through it, of course it was some bet. He didnt mean anything he said to you, and you were stupid to think the most popular guy in the school wanted to ‘spend time with you’

Even as you shower, the memory of his hands on you not even 24 hours ago is still jarred in your mind, the reassuring touches, the praise.. But it was all just fake.

You couldnt sleep. For good reason. Every time you tried to close your eyes, your mind kept going back, trying to over analyze the situation, trying to think of an excuse.

It was 12:49 when you got the message

Jake sim: Y/n, im so sorry

Jake sim: Don’t shut me out

Jake sim: Please

Jake sim: Baby

Your press your hand to your chest, like it would stop the painful feeling in your heart.

You never answered him. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you finally fell asleep, you didn’t bother checking the time you did, because you knew you would just pity yourself.

୨♡୧

On Monday, you’re not the first one in class. Jake was. He sat in his seat next to yours, eyes flicking from your desk to the door, waiting for you to come in.

As soon as you walk in, he sits up straight, watching you walk, not towards the seat next to him but to some random one in the second row, where the guy who never shows up would sit.

He watches you take your stuff out of your bag, he looks down at the way your leg bounces, he hates himself because he knows he’s the reason you’re so fucking anxious right now.

The teacher talks like its any other day. Of course she would, she’s not going to stop the school day because he fucked up. When the bell rings you’re the first one out, he goes to call your name but stops when you rush out of the door.

“I almost beat Jay’s ass, like actually.” Gigi says before taking a bite of the cafeteria sandwhich

“Mom and dad nearly crashed out when they came home and saw I already was pulling his hair” She adds

“Can he stop fucking staring already” Lyla says, looking at you then at the table 3 rows behind where Jake was looking right at you

“Im going over there” Jake says to his friends

“Uh no dude- you’re fucking not” Sunghoon says, tugging him back down by his shoulder

Jake shrugs him off before getting up to walk over to you, ignoring the exaggerated sighs from his table

“Oh shit” Gigi mutters

“He’s like actively walking over here y/n” Lyla adds

You turn your head slightly to see him walking towards you, before standing up

“Im going to the bathroom.” You say, grabbing your bag and moving towards the door

Jakes steps falter when he watches you get up, he wants to yell at you, tell you to stop walking away from him so bad. But he knows that would make it worse. He doesn’t look at Lyla and Gigi before turning around and going back to his table.

His friends are silent when he sits down, the usual snickers, or comments don’t come.

You set your bag down by the sink, bracing your hands on it, looking in the mirror, “don’t cry, don’t cry” you whisper to yourself

“I mean I don’t get whats so fucking special about her, shes just like normal-“ You pause when you see two girls walk in, blonde, Clara.

“Well look who it is” She says walking further in, her friend beside her

“Jakes little slut” She coos, looking you up and down judgementally

“Im not-“ You start but she cuts you off

“I want you to stop talking to him.” she says, crossing her arms over her chest

“Clara-“ her friend starts

“No, this bitch needs to fuck off my man”

“You can have him.” You say, voice low

They look at each other confused

“I said you can have him.” you say, louder

“Just leave me alone.” you mutter, putting your bag over your shoulder

“The fuck-“ she starts when you walk past her before pulling you by your bag strap

She pulls your bag off your shoulder, making it fall to the ground with a thud, you don’t turn around.

You wait for the hit. Because you’re used to this, You close your eyes, tight. Trying to block off everything, when you hear Lyla

“What the fuck are you doing Clara?!” She yells, Gigi following in beside you

“Just teaching this bitch a lesson to not mess with my man-“

“Your man?” Gigi says with a scoff

“You need a fucking reality check because he does not want your ass” She adds, picking your bag up from the floor

Lyla comes infront of you “Y/n are you okay?” you nod, not because you’re okay, but because you have to be.

You block out the sound of them arguing, taking your bag from Gigi before walking out. Of course this would happen to you, and of course you’re running away.

୨♡୧

You dont talk about what happened the next day, they dont bring it up either.

They were laughing at something on Lylas phone when you got a text

Jake Sim: Are we still on for tutoring?

Jake Sim: In the library right?

You look back for a split second, over your shoulder to see him looking at you, his phone in his hand, you turn back around almost immediately, typing out a response, deleting it and typing it again

You: -Sent contact-

You: If you need tutoring so bad, he does Tuesdays too. Stop texting me.

You shut off your phone, putting it in your pocket, he watches.

Its like everything around him is silent. He cant fucking focus, coach even gave him shit for not doing good at practice yesterday. He tries to act normal, but the affect you have on him isn’t something that can go away.

“Earth to Jake” Heeseung snaps in his face to get his attention

“Motherfucker thinks he’s Jeff buckley” Sunghoon says through a snort

“Brought it on himself” Jay shrugs

“I need to get drunk” Jake says, running his hands through his hair, something hes been doing often lately

“And laid” Heeseung adds

“I can’t think about fucking another girl right now” He says, checking his phone again in hopes you sent a message

“I mean I heard Jungwon’s throwing a party after the game on Friday” Jay says, looking at the group

“Who’s going?” Jake asks

“Shit—if its Jungwon then probably half the school” Heeseung says, rubbing his jaw

“You know what, why not. The alcohol better not be shit” Jake says, making them laugh

୨♡୧

“Please y/n! We can come pick you up and everything, I know you’re not going to be doing anything either” Lyla says through the speakers of your phone

“Yeah, Fuck him, you deserve to go out, for once?” Gigi adds

“We know you’re not all that party type but just this once! Plus Jungwons house is nice as hell”

“I don’t know guys—What if he’s there?” you say worried, unlocking the front door to your house and shutting it behind you

“If he was going, Jay would have said something. I know they have a game tonight so I doubt they’re gonna wanna go to a party.” Gigi says, opening a bag of chips

“Okay but what am I supposed to wear?”

“Do you wanna get laid?” Lyla asks

“What—no”

“Im just kidding, wear that one black skirt I let you borrow and those low rise jeans”

“I never even wore it though-“

“Exactly why its perfect! Well come get you at 10, love you bye!” Layla says quickly before hanging up

You listen for Gigi, but all you hear is the faint sound of her arguing, presumably with Jay, before you hang up and set your phone on the counter.

You dont go to parties, ever. But here you are stepping out of your comfort zone, maybe its good that you’re. Maybe you need a change.

୨♡୧

“Oh hell no.” Gigi says once you all walk into the house, it's almost as big as hers, but you're not paying close attention to it because right now. instead you're watching Jake take down a shot in the kitchen. 

It smells like cheap alcohol and sweat. The place is packed, you take your eyes off him and look around, you recognize faces you've seen around campus, and some you haven't

You watch as Gigi storms over to the kitchen to Jay “What the fuck are you doing here?” She asks Jay who looks at her like she has 2 heads “What am I doing here? Jungwon is my friend” He says back, you and Lyla walk over to the kitchen, following her. 

You don't look at him. You can't look at him, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“I’ll tell mom and dad you ass-” Gigi starts

“Oh but that means they'll know you were here too” He says, faking a pout

“Shit” She replies, looking at you and Lyla

“Fine, truce.” She says, grabbing 3 red cups

You watch Jay hold out his hand, but she swats it away rolling her eyes before pouring whatever is in the bottles on the counter into the cups

“Drinks?” She says, handing you and Lyla the cups

“Please and Thank you, I need to find a hot guy to make out with” Lyla says taking the cup

“Im right here babe” Heeseung smirks, stepping closer to her

“Literally anyone but you” She says, walking away from the kitchen, you watch as he follows her

You hesitate a beat before taking the cup from her hand, Jake doesnt miss the way your eyes flick over to him for a split second

“Y/n can we-” He starts before a familiar obnoxious voice flows in the kitchen, Clara.

You watch as she walks in the kitchen, wearing practically nothing before she comes to his side, wrapping her arm around his. 

“I think you have your hands full Jake.” You say before walking over to the living room with Gigi

“Get the fuck off me Clara” He says, moving his arm

Sunghoon and Jay both look at him with annoyed expressions on their faces

“Why Jakey? She said I can have you” Clara says, words slurred from the amount of alcohol she's consumed

“What?” He pushes her back, not to hurt, but enough for her to get off of him

He walks over to Gigi, glancing at Lyla and Heeseung who are practically eating each others faces on the other couch “Wheres y/n” He says, tone serious in a way that has Gigi sitting up

“Why-”

“Tell me where she is Gi, im not fucking around.” he says, watching Gigi point to the back porch

You turn around when you hear the door behind you open, leaning against the railing 

“What are you-”

“Y/n- Fuck, please let me talk okay?” He says closing the door, the music and talking inside becoming a sound in the distance

“Jake, I can't right now” You say, looking down at your shoes as he walks over

“Please” His voice comes out slightly whiner than intended

“Baby, please look at me” He pleads, his composure gone. He’s done acting like he's okay with you avoiding him

You shake your head

He lets out a defeated sigh, you think he's going to walk away, give up.

You watch him lower himself to the ground getting on his knees just so you will look at him instead of the ground

“Y/n please listen to me” He looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowed together, his pupils are blown. He can’t believe hes actually fucking doing this.

When you don't say anything, the words spill out faster than he can catch up

“Im so sorry baby– Im an asshole and I hate myself for what I did, I should have just told you from the beginning about the bet-” he cringes at the word “-It was selfish of me and I understand why you don't even want to look at me, let alone talk to me.-“

“-But I like you, so fucking much, Ive never felt like this before, but you changed that for me. You’re smart, you’re fucking gorgeous, you’re too kind for your own good, and I want you so bad, I want you so fucking bad my chest hurts at the thought of not having you. Everything I said in the car that night was true. I like spending time with you and I don't want to be friends, because what I feel for you isn't friendship–” He stops, trying to catch his breath, looking up at you, searching your face for any reaction, any response

Your hand is shaking when it comes up to his face, slightly brushing his hair out of the way “I..” You close your eyes before opening them again, “I really like you too Jake. But you hurt me, I let you in and it feels like it was all just some trick.” You say, trying to hold the tears threatening to fall from your eyes

“No baby–It wasn't a trick, please, everything I said to you I meant it–” He leans forward resting his head on your stomach before looking back up at you

“Every touch, I meant it.” His hand comes up to hold your waist, before he stands up, looking down at you, placing his finger under your chin, before running his thumb along your bottom lip “Every word” His other hand pulls you closer to him “Every kiss.” He whispers, leaning down, lips grazing over yours “I meant it all.”

You're breathing against his mouth, hearts beating the same rapid pace “And I want it all–so bad, I want all of you y/n, I don't want you to hide from me, I don't want you to run” He says, cupping your face in his hands, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours

“Please-”

“I want it too Jake” You whisper

His eyes fly open, searching yours, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, taking you slightly by shock with how desperate it is, his left hand slides from your face down to your waist, holding you close, like you would slip away if he let go.

He pulls back, just to see the look on your face, a single string of saliva keeping you two connected before he kisses your neck, whispering small “im sorrys” as he trails his lips along your jaw, making you let out breathy sounds that have him weak.

He captures your lips in a kiss again, tongue exploring your mouth in the way he’s been dreaming about ever since you started avoiding him.

He feels his cock hardening, he remembers the way he fucked his fist at the thought of having you like this again.

“Fuck–” He breathes out, before biting your lip lightly, making you let out a small whimper. “I.. I need you baby, please” He says, bringing his hand down to softly caress your ass in your jeans, you bring your hand up to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt to kiss him again before he pulls back “Not here.” He whispers, voice low, looking into your eyes with such intensity it has your knees weak. 

With the way you're looking at him right now, he wants to do it now.

But he’s not having sex with you at some dumbass house party. He can't help the smirk on his face when you whine as he pulls away, grabbing your hand and leading you back inside, you don't look at anyone except him, as he guides you through the crowd, his hand clasping tight in yours, until you reach his car.

“What street do you live on?” He asks, looking at you, before pulling out onto the road, you hesitate, he notices “Y/n, no hiding” He says, putting his hand on your thigh. “167 EN drive” you reply back quietly, part of you hoping he wouldn't hear. But you remind yourself of the words he said earlier, he wants all of you, he said he craves it. So that’s what he'll get.

You watch his face as he pulls in your drive way, looking at your house. You don't see the look of hesitance, or disappointment you were expecting.

Your anxiety boils down when he steps out of the car, and comes to your side to open your door for you. “You’re not disappointed or anything?” You ask, voice slightly shaky 

“Dissapointed?” He asks, genuinely confused

“I mean, my mom just doesn't make a lot– I know its not a good area to live in either-”

“Y/n, do you think I'd judge you for something as small as where you live?” He asks, shutting the passenger side door

“I just thought-” 

“No. I’d be a fool to think like that. Nothing you do could make me judge you, the idea of doing that in the first place disgusts me.” He says, hand rising to brush his thumb on the side of your face, waiting for you to invite him in. He wants you to, he wants the reassurance that you trust him. 

You walk to the front door, grabbing the key hidden under the mat before unlocking it, and stepping inside. You cringe at the slightly peeled paint on the walls, but also thankful that having the house to yourself means it's actually clean for once. He shuts the door behind him, watching the way you look around, the insecurity showing in your body language. He turns you around to face him, pulling you close before tilting your face up. 

You look between his eyes and his lips before leaning up slightly, your lips grazing over his, before he speaks “tell me how bad you want this, tell me you want it as much as I do” He whispers, even though no one can hear him but you.

“I want it Jake– I want it so bad, I just want you..” you breathe out, and he closes the small space instantly, the feeling of your heart beating, the thrill of his lips on yours will never get old.

He lets you guide him to your room, before shutting the door behind him, he pulls back looking down at you. The needy look on your face as you try to catch your breath.

The room is dimly lit, the moon is bright from the clear sky, illuminating you, allowing him to see every emotion that flashes across your face.

He steps closer to you, hand coming to your waist, his thumb making small circles near the hem. You nod, and he slowly lifts your shirt above your head, eyes dropping to your chest, he can't help himself when his hand comes up to cup your tit in his hand, kneading the soft flesh through your bra. “Youre so beautiful” He says, guiding you until you land on your bed, He follows, on top of you in a second, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, it’s careful, timeless.

You kiss him back, lips desperately grasping onto each other as his hand trails down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans, your breath hitches, he pauses looking down at you “can I take these off?” He asks, “y-yes” you manage to let out, not sure how you can even get out words when he has you like this.

He unbottons your jeans, sitting up to slide them down your legs, throwing them on the floor before looking at you, taking you in, trying to savor this in his memory.

He watches the way your legs close, stopping them with his hand "Don't hide from me.” He says, pushing them open, looking down at the way your underwear sticks to your pussy, biting his lip at the sight, you let out a soft whine at being exposed like this, because no one has ever seen you this way, this vulnerable.

He presses a kiss to your neck, “Have you thought about this before?” He asks, tongue flicking on a new found sensitive spot under your ear, you nod. He lets his hand trail down your body before cupping your clothed cunt in his hand, you let out a quiet moan at the contact.

“Did you touch yourself thinking about it?” He kisses the spot under your ear, pulling the honesty out of you.

Your mind goes back to that night he kissed you in the car, how you made yourself come on your fingers at the memory of his hands on you later that night– “yes.” You say, the honesty makes him smile against your neck

“Can you show me?” He whispers, sitting up again, watching the way you willingly trail your hand down your body, slipping your fingers inside the waistband of your panties to brush your soaking clit, closing your eyes.

You open them again when the bed shifts, watching Jake as he takes off his shirt tossing it on the floor beside your pants, before removing his own, you press harder on your clit when your eyes meet the bulge in his boxers, there's no way that's fitting in you. He watches your reaction, "I'll make sure you're ready for it baby” He says, palming himself. You slide your underwear off your legs, the fabric was making it hard to really touch yourself anyway.

Your hand slides back between your legs, circling your clit, the same way he did that time in the bathroom. “Fuck–” He hisses, squeezing his dick at the way your hand comes up to toy with your nipple through your bra.

You watch as he climbs back in between your legs, leaning down to kiss your lips, trailing down past your neck, leaving a trail of wet marks until his face is hardly an inch away from your pussy.

You move your hand to grip the sheets beneath you “Jake..” You watch as he looks up at you from in between your legs. He blows on your clit, watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing. He presses small kisses to your thigh, grazing over your sensitive bud with his plump lips. “You have no idea how bad I've wanted to do this” He says before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your soaking cunt, you let out a moan at the contact, hands flying up to touch his hair as he repeats the motion.

You didn't even know you could be this vocal, but with him, eating you out like a starved man, how could you not.

He flicks his tongue over your clit, practically drooling onto your pussy, before pressing soft kisses “Tastes so fucking good” He mumbles into you, the vibration making your hips buck, his hand come up to hold your stomach down, so you dont squirm as much.

You watch him, his eyes are closed, face expressing true pleasure, your juices coating the bottom half of his face.

He looks up at you, burying his nose in your pussy, letting the bridge of it pressure your throbbing clit before he sucks on it, mouth clasped around your pussy, flicking his tounge, swirling it, you tug his hair harder, but he doesnt care because this is just too fucking good.

“Oh my gosh-” You let out when his finger comes up to collect your juices seeping from your hole before inserting the single digit inside of you, the sound of your pussy squelching, and him groaning into you has your back arches off the bed when he curls his finger, his tongue flicking over your clit, before he adds another, you've never felt this good in your life, you watch him, the way his brows furrow in concentration as he brings the most pleasurable experience upon you. 

He fucks his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right, while his lips suck on your clit greedily, he looks up for a split second at the way your head is thrown back, before shoving his fingers deep, dick throbbing at the way you clench around them, taking your clit in is mouth, and sucking it, hard. You grip his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as you reach your orgasm, your whole body shaking “Jake!” You scream out through a moan as your juices coat his face, soaking the bed beneath you. He greedily licks, and slurps everything you let out, not letting anything go to waste, before looking up at you. He pulls his fingers out slowly, watching the way your body trembles.

You bite your lip as you watch him sit up again, your arousal coating his lips, he runs his tongue along them, savoring every drop. 

He slides his boxers off, his dick hitting his abdomen, thick, heavy, and a bead of pearly white pre-cum at the tip, you watch as he spreads it on his tip, stroking himself in his hand. “You wanna know something?” He asks, watching the way your eyes flick between his face and his cock.

You nod quickly, making him smirk. “Ive dreamt about this moment almost every night. I remember waking up–” He looks down at your bare cunt, continuing “To see that I fucking came in my sleep.” You can't help the small gasp that leaves your mouth at the confession, "That's not all.” He says, pulling you closer, unclasping your bra and tossing it on the ground.

You bite your lip as the crisp air that hits your nipples, his finger comes up to toy with the sensitive bud, looking at your reaction, the little gasps that leave your lips “I fucked my fist so many times–everytime I imagined it was your pussy” He whispers, leaning down, letting his lips graze over your nipple, making you let out a desperate sound

“I thought about how you’d react when I did this–” He says before sucking on your nipple, his hand toying with the other one between his fingers making you moan, uncontrolled, you feel the way his cock rubs against your inner thigh.

He sits up, guiding his cock to your entrance, coating his tip with your juices from your previous orgasm. He slides the tip in slowly, letting your pussy adjust to the size, groaning, “Baby, I need you to relax okay? Can you do that for me?” He asks, finger rubbing circles on your inner thigh “mhm” you breathe out, before closing your eyes, trying to make yourself less tense as he slides more of his length in you

“Fuck- youre so warm” He says, hand moving to your hips to steady himself before bottoming out, a wrecked sound leaving his lips at the way your pussy clenches around him.

He leans down, head resing beside yours before lifting to look at you “Im going to move now, can you take it?” he asks, voice strained, but gentle “Please–” You let out through a whimper, he brings his lips to yours before pulling out halfway and thrusting back into you, making you moan into his mouth at the stretch. His cock reaching places you couldn't even imagine with your fingers, the feeling of being so full is almost euphoric.

“It's like this pussy was made for me baby–you feel so good” He whispers, sliding out of you again, and then back in, hips moving in an agonizing slow rhythm that has you holding onto his biceps and panting desperately in his mouth.

“F-faster?” you manage to let out, making him chuckle lightly “You sure?” he asks, looking down at you and the way you nod frantically. His lips suck at your neck as he picks up his speed thrusting in and out of you, hips rolling, enjoying every sound you let out.

Your nails dig into his arms, your pussy squeezing around him “You close baby?” he asks, the moan you let out is enough for him to understand, “I wanna come in you while you come on my cock, please?” the begging tone in his voice making you let out desperate pleas, his mouth is back on yours, both of you completely lost in the pleasure of each other, moaning against each other's mouths before he thrusts into you, hard, your pussy clenches around him, grinding up and down as you ride your orgasm out, at the same time milking his cock, making him whimper against you, saying your name though it all.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, before slowly inching his cock out, his cum spilling out of your pussy, you both wince at the sensitiveness, he pulls back looking down at you

“Where's your towels baby?” He asks, voice soft, you point towards the second drawer of your dresser, he grabs one coming back over to you, kneeling down to clean you up, you admire him, the focused look on his face, he looks up at you smiling “What?” He says through a chuckle

“You’re just really cute when you're focused” He climbs up till he's laid next to you, pulling himself closer to your warm embrace, resting his face on your chest, making you let out a giggle before he looks at you

“I want to be your boyfriend y/n” He says, emotion raw in his tone 

“W-what?” You're caught off guard by the question

“Can I be your boyfriend?” He asks, voice low, almost shy

“Please?” he adds

You smile, biting your lip “yes, you can” You whisper, he tilts his head to kiss you again, embracing your warmth, you pull back 

“You’re not going to get me flowers or anything?” You ask brow raising

“Oh, you just wait for tomorrow” He smiles against your lips

୨♡୧

Jake left your house that morning, kissing you goodbye, and saying to be ready by six at the latest, you were already dressed at 5. 

The second you hear a knock at the door you rush to get it, swinging it open, heart beating fast when you see him, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, with a smile on his face

“Jake–They’re so pretty” You smile, taking them from his hand

“You’re prettier” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips before taking your hand and dragging you to his car.

He covers your eyes with his hands when he makes you get out of the car “Y/n you better not peak” he says, tickling your ear with his mouth, guiding you somewhere

“Shit- dont trip” He says, kicking a rock out of the way

You let out a laugh at how stressed he is right now

“Okay, three, two..” He removes his hand from your eyes, adjusting to the light you look around, at the open field, the sunset turning a pink/ orange hue in the distant, before your eyes fall to the setting before you, you cover your mouth with your hand, smiling against it as you look at the picnic before you

The Jake Sim set up a picnic for you at sunset. you can't help but giggle into your palm, turning to look at him

“Its perfect Jake” You say throwing your arms around his neck, pressing a light kiss to his lips

He smiles proudly, taking pride in the fact that he’s able to please you like this

He helps you sit down, before coming next to you, watching the way you glow from the golden light on you.

“You’re telling me Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon made these?” You say taking a bite of the small strawberry shortcake, the flavors melting in your mouth 

“Yeah, they spent all day trying to figure out how, finding recipes and stuff” He says through a laugh

“Said it was their own way of apologizing” He lifts his finger to wipe frosting from your chin, bringing it up to lick it, smiling at you

“Tell them they're going to have to make me 10 more batches of this, because it might just be the best strawberry shortcake to date.” You say, completely serious 

“They were considering opening a bakery” Jake says through a laugh, that has you join him

As the sun sets, you lean on his shoulder, you’re not thinking about the stressful things in your life like you normally do in quiet moments, right now it's you and him.

And you're at peace with that, because you feel like you've finally found your person.

“Thank you y/n” Jake says, turning his head to look at you

“For what?” you ask, voice barely a whisper

“Forgiving me, letting me in, it means a lot to me. And I'm really glad you did.” He says, moving a strand of hair behind your ear 

“Thank you” You say so quietly, he almost wouldn't be able to hear it, he tilts his head in question

“For being there for me, and accepting me.” You say softly, he smiles before he cups the side of your face in his hand pulling you closer, and kissing you, gently..lovingly.

୨♡୧

And if I wrote reader giving him head for the first time and he actually goes insane

Okay sorry guys i'm just down bad as fuck

Thanks for reading! <3

The gallery is louder than Hyunjin remembers it ever being.

Voices overlap in polite admiration and thinly veiled competition, laughter ringing too sharp against the white walls. The annual student exhibition always draws a crowd.

His painting hangs at eye level, exactly where the faculty suggested it should be. Oil on canvas. Controlled strokes. Composition honed through months of revisions. He stands near it, hands loosely clasped behind his back, posture relaxed in a way that has been practiced into muscle memory over the years. People drift in and out of his orbit easily.

“This one’s yours again, Hyunjin,” someone says with a laugh, nudging his shoulder. “You’ve outdone yourself,” another adds, eyes bright with admiration. “Second years in a row—legendary.”

Everyone keeps saying, assuming the same thing just because he won the student art prize last year. To Hyunjin, winning has never been something he allows himself to assume—not because he lacks confidence, but because he knows how fragile it is. Art doesn’t belong to expectation.

Hyunjin answers questions thoughtfully. He talks about process, about intention. He never talks about victory. He smiles when he’s expected to. Nods. Thanks them. But he never lets it settle because the moment he believes he deserves something, it stops listening to him.

As the crowd shifts, his attention wanders to other paintings lining the walls, to names printed neatly on placards. He scans instinctively, cataloguing styles, techniques and then, he realizes something. There’s a gap. Not an empty wall, but a presence he doesn’t recognize.

At the far end of the gallery, tucked slightly away from the main flow, a painting holds a quiet gravity that doesn’t beg to be noticed. Green dominates the canvas, lush and layered, alive in a way that feels deliberate rather than decorative. Flowers bloom unapologetically, vines twisting into one another like they’re holding secrets.

He steps closer before he means to and at first glance, it’s beautiful. Serene, even. The kind of work that soothes viewers, that gives them something pleasant to praise. He almost turns away—

And then he sees the space between the leaves sharpens. Shadows pull into shape. Two eyes look back at him, not directly, but as if they’re watching from somewhere just beyond the room. A face emerges slowly, fragmented, hidden beneath the growth. And behind it all—thin, careful lines etched into the canvas. Old wounds. Healed badly. Covered, not erased.

Hyunjin stills because the longer he looks, the more the painting changes. Then he glances at the placard beneath it. A name he doesn’t recognize.

He looks around instinctively, expecting to find the artist nearby so he can ask further about their work, but no one stands there. The space around the painting is empty like it’s been left alone on purpose.

Hyunjin exhales slowly, something unfamiliar settling in his chest. Not jealousy. Not fear. Curiosity.

Because whoever painted this—

They weren’t trying to win. They were trying to be understood.

-

The night stretches on in a slow, gilded blur.

Hyunjin answers more questions, accepts more praise than he knows what to do with. Someone presses a champagne flute into his hand, he takes a polite sip and sets it aside untouched. Every few minutes, his gaze drifts back to the green painting at the end of the room like a reflex he hasn’t learned to control yet.

His curiosity deepens as the artist never appears until eventually, the lights dim just slightly—a subtle cue that the night is reaching its peak. Conversations soften, people instinctively drawing closer to the podium located in the center end of the gallery where the judges gather.

Hyunjin straightens without thinking, smoothing a hand over his sleeve. Around him, bodies shift. Eyes flick toward him, then away again, then back. Expectation hums in the air.

Someone near him murmurs, “Here we go,” under their breath.

He feels that collective assumption settling like a weight on his shoulders. Two years of precedent. Two years of predictability. He doesn’t resent it, but he doesn’t claim it either. He keeps his expression calm the way he always does.

Art isn’t a crown you wear. It’s something you offer and then let go of.

The head judge steps forward, microphone catching softly. They speak about growth. About voices. About courage in creation.

Hyunjin listens carefully, more than most. His pulse remains steady.

“And this year,” the judge continues, “the winning piece moved us not because of its polish but because of its honesty.”

A few students glance at him again, smiles already forming, ready to hear his name being called.

Hyunjin doesn’t move. His fingers curl slightly at his side.

“And the winner of this year’s Art Prize is…”

The name is spoken and it’s not his.

For a heartbeat, the gallery goes silent. The kind that comes from surprise, not disappointment. Hyunjin feels the shift immediately, like the room has inhaled and forgotten how to exhale.

Around him, students turn in unison, eyes flicking from him to the far end of the gallery, to the painting cloaked in green. Whispered confusion ripples outward and buzzing in place.

Hyunjin doesn’t feel the loss. There’s no sting. No hollow drop in his chest. Instead, something else unfurls.

He looks again at the painting, seeing it now not as an anomaly, but as an answer. The judge continues speaking, calling for the artist to step forward, but no one does. A pause stretches and then another.

The artist isn’t here.

A quiet murmur spreads, surprised, uncertain. Hyunjin barely hears it. His attention stays anchored to the canvas, to the pair of eyes hidden in the leaves, to the face that never quite steps into the light.

Who paints something like that and doesn’t come to watch it win?

He exhales, the corner of his mouth lifting just barely in intrigue.

Whoever you are, he thinks, you didn’t paint this for applause.

And suddenly, he wants to know you.

-

Hyunjin sits through his lectures with the same attentiveness he always has, but there’s a thread pulling at the back of his mind, tugging his focus loose every few minutes. Sketches form beneath his pen without him realizing—leaves, curved lines, negative space that keeps resolving into eyes when he looks too closely. He frowns, closes the notebook, forces himself to listen.

By lunchtime, he eats with friends, nods along to conversations about critiques and deadlines and the shock of the prize going to someone new. Your name surfaces again and again, each time spoken with the same puzzled tone.

“You know who painted it?” someone asks him.

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No.”

That answer sits strangely on his tongue.

Between classes, he starts asking around. Just curiosity disguised as coincidence.

“Hey, do you know who painted the piece that won the art prize?” “Oh, her? She’s in the illustration track, I think.” “She’s quiet. Never really talks.” “I don’t think she hangs around much.”

Most answers trail off into shrugs. Finally, near the end of the day, he catches up to someone from one of the shared studios. He keeps his tone light, conversational.

“Do you know where she usually works?”

The student thinks for a moment. “Yeah. She stays late. Always does.”

“Where?”

They jerk their chin toward the older buildings at the edge of campus. “Studio H. The abandoned one after that fire. Barely anyone uses it anymore. She’s almost always there after school.”

Hyunjin thanks them and turns away before they can read too much into his expression.

The last class of the day drags. He packs up the second it ends, slinging his bag over his shoulder and stepping out into the frosty winter air. The sun hangs low, casting long shadows across campus, students spilling out in clusters toward buses and cafes and home.

Hyunjin walks in the opposite direction and the farther he goes, the quieter it gets. The chatter fades, replaced by the sound of his own footsteps and the rustle of leaves stirred by the wind.

The building comes into view gradually—older, narrower, one of the walls still has smoke stains from a fire that happened almost a year ago.

Hyunjin slows as he approaches, something like reverence settling over him. The windows glow faintly, warm against the encroaching dusk. He pauses at the entrance, fingers brushing the strap of his bag, suddenly aware of the intrusion his presence might be.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, only that he needs to see the person who painted something like that. So pushes the door open quietly and steps inside.

-

The studio isn’t what Hyunjin expects.

There’s no familiar scent of oil paint or turpentine, no easels or canvas lined neatly against the walls. Instead, the air is thick with clay and dust, cool and damp in a way that settles into the lungs. Half-finished sculptures crowd the room—torsos without heads, hands reaching for nothing, faces frozen mid-thought. It feels less like a classroom and more like a place where people disappear into their work.

Someone stands at a table near the entrance, sleeves rolled up, hands buried in a block of clay. He wears headphones, head bobbing faintly to a rhythm Hyunjin can’t hear. The sculptor glances up when the door opens, eyes flicking over Hyunjin with mild curiosity before returning immediately to their work. Unbothered.

Hyunjin steps farther inside, careful with his footing. His eyes instinctively search for an easel, canvas, brushes, anything that confirms the person he’s looking for belongs here. He doesn’t find one but what he does find is you.

You sit on a wooden stool near the back, posture slightly hunched, fully absorbed. A half-body sculpture rests in front of you. Your hands move with steady familiarity, thumbs pressing, fingers smoothing. Clay clings beneath your nails, streaks your apron, catches in a loose strand of hair by your temple.

Hyunjin hesitates, suddenly aware of the intrusion. He knows this feeling too well because he too, hates when someone interrupt him in the middle of painting.

Still, he clears his throat softly. “Hi.”

You glance at him then. Just enough to register his presence. Your eyes meet his for half a second before dropping back to your sculpture, hands never pausing. No greeting. No dismissal either.

Hyunjin exhales quietly. He decides to be quick. “Sorry,” he says, lowering his voice. “I’m looking for someone. Do you happen to know where I can find—” He says your name.

Your hands keep moving. You don’t turn to him. “That’s me.”

Hyunjin is puzzled once more. His gaze drifts back to the sculpture, then to you, recalibrating everything he thought he knew. A painter, he had assumed. Not this.

“I—” He catches himself, straightens. “I’m Hyunjin. We haven’t met. But I saw your work at the exhibition.”

Your shoulders tense, just slightly.

He continues carefully, “I wanted to congratulate you. Your painting—it was incredible. I really admired it. And winning the student art prize—”

“I didn’t win anything.”

The interruption is flat and final.

Hyunjin frowns, confused. “But your painting was there. You won this year’s art prize.”

You press your thumb into the clay a little harder than before. “Someone else submitted it without my consent.”

That stops him cold but he isn’t offended. Only sincerely, utterly confused. That painting, raw and deliberate and brave, doesn’t feel like something that should be taken from its creator. And the thought unsettles him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he says honestly.

You finally look at him again, this time longer but there’s no warmth in it. Just distance, hollow.

“If you don’t mind,” you say coolly, already turning back to your sculpture, “I’d like to work in peace.”

Hyunjin nods immediately. He understands that tone. He’s used it himself. “Of course. I’m sorry for disturbing you. I hope you have a good day.”

He backs away slowly, careful not to bump into anything, and slips out the door as quietly as he entered.

Outside, the air feels lighter but his chest only tightens. Hyunjin reaches the doorway, hand hovering over the handle, but he quickly pauses. Because now, more than ever, he wants to know why someone who creates like that would let their work speak without them.

And why they’d rather remain unseen.

-

You’re halfway through cleaning clay from beneath your nails when your phone vibrates on the edge of the sink, screen lighting up with your professor’s name. The subject line is polite and you skim most of it, finding out that she wants to see you in her office later.

So after lunch, you make your way there. Her office smells faintly of paper and old coffee, sunlight spilling in through tall windows that make everything feel exposed. She gestures for you to sit, her expression unreadable in that careful way professors master over the years.

“I wanted to talk to you about the exhibition,” she begins.

You already know about what she did with your painting without your permission. Thanks to whoever came to the studio the other day, telling you that you won something you didn’t even know you were a part of in the first place.

She folds her hands on the desk. “I submitted your painting for the student art prize.”

The words land exactly where you expect them to, and still—they irritate. Settle under your skin.

“I didn’t give my consent,” you say evenly.

She sighs, not frustrated—more thoughtful. “I know. And I understand why you’re upset.”

Upset isn’t the word. But you let her continue.

“It won,” she adds.

You look at her then, exasperated but don’t know how to express it since she’s your professor and your respect her too much. “That doesn’t change anything.”

She studies you for a moment, gaze softening. “You’re exceptionally talented. But you hide. You always have. Your work deserves to be seen.”

You inhale air to calm yourself before speaking. “I don’t need validation. Or praise. Or awards.”

There’s no bitterness in your voice. Just fact.

She leans back slightly, fingers tapping once against the armrest. “It’s not about validation. It’s about connection. About letting others know they’re not alone.”

You stiffen because she’s hovering too close to the very thing you don’t want to talk about.

“Your painting,” she continues, careful now, “it heals. Art heals. People like you—people who don’t know how to speak yet—they see it and feel understood.”

You look down at your hands, at the faint cracks in your skin, clay still embedded in the lines of your palms.

“I don’t make art to heal people,” you murmur. “I make it so I can breathe.”

She nods, accepting that. Then she reaches into a drawer and places the certificate on the desk, followed by the small trophy. They look out of place between stacks of papers and books. “I won’t argue with you. But I won’t apologize either,” she says.

You consider pushing back but you’re too tired and arguing won’t unpaint what’s already been seen. You take the certificate and the trophy, not in triumph, but in defeat.

“Since you won,” she adds, stopping you at the door, “your painting is being showcased in the main hall now.”

You close your eyes briefly. Eyelids fluttering as you hold yourself back. You nod once, hand tightening around the edge of the certificate as you step back into the hallway. The door closes behind you with a soft click, leaving you alone with the echo of her words and the weight of something you never asked to share.

You exhale slowly at the fact that more people know about the painting and the one who painted it now. And you’re not sure how that makes you feel—only that there’s no taking it back.

-

The hallway feels longer after stepping out of your professor’s office. Your footsteps echo softly against the tiled floor, certificate tucked under your arm, the trophy weighing your already packed bag.

Students pass you in pairs and clusters, voices overlapping, laughter brushing past you without catching. You keep your eyes forward, jaw set as you think about the painting. You never meant for it to leave your hands.

It wasn’t created for walls or spotlights or circles of admiration. You painted it late at night, alone, when the studios were empty and no one could watch you hesitate. It’s the most honest you’ve ever been—every brushstroke a confession you never learned how to say out loud. You didn’t plan for anyone to see the face hidden beneath the leaves, the way the wounds rest beneath something alive.

You showed it to your professor because you trusted her. Because she asked gently. Because she never pushed. You thought that it would stay between the two of you, safe in that small space of understanding.

Apparently, it wasn’t.

The main hall opens up ahead of you, wide and bright, sunlight flooding in through the tall and wide entrance of the building that leaves nowhere to hide. You slow without meaning to, pulse ticking louder in your ears. A small crowd lingers near the center wall in that particular way people get when they know something is important but don’t quite know why.

You see it then. Your painting hangs there, framed neatly, too clean for what it contains. The green looks brighter under the lights, the flowers more alive than you remember. From a distance, it almost lies, almost convinces. Up close, the truth waits patiently for anyone willing to look long enough.

You notice one person in particular stands in front of it, unmoving. Tall. Lean. Long, silky black hair falling just past his eyes, catching the light when he tilts his head. His posture is relaxed but intent, hands tucked loosely into the pockets of his jeans like he’s afraid to touch anything. There’s a stillness to him that sets him apart from the others drifting in and out.

You recognize him immediately as the guy who came to the studio the other day. He introduced himself and it takes you a while to recall his name.

Hyunjin.

He isn’t looking at the placard. He isn’t glancing around to see who’s watching. His gaze stays fixed on the canvas, expression stripped of anything performative. Just quiet focus like he’s listening to something only the painting is saying.

A strange, uncomfortable thought settles in your chest. Because out of everyone here, he’s the one who’s really seeing it.

You stop a few steps away, heart knocking unevenly, caught between wanting to turn around and wanting to know what he sees when he looks at something you never meant to share. This time, you don’t feel annoyed by his presence. You feel exposed.

You stay where you are as he shifts his weight slightly, head tilting as if he’s following a line only he can see, eyes tracing the edges of the leaves, the spaces between them. He leans in, just a fraction, like he’s careful not to miss anything.

You wonder what he wants from you. When he showed up at the studio, you assumed curiosity sharpened by ego—another artist wanting to size you up, to confirm that the prize made sense. Or maybe obligation. A polite congratulations delivered because it was expected of him, because everyone was watching.

But now, standing here, alone with your painting, he doesn’t look like someone checking a box. He looks… thoughtful.

You wonder if he knows how close he stands to the face hidden in the green. If he’s seen the eyes yet. If he’s noticed the cuts behind the leaves, softened by color but still there, still real. You wonder if he understands that the painting isn’t brave—it’s just tired of being quiet and you hate how much it matters.

You quickly remind yourself that his intentions don’t concern you. That whatever he thinks about your work, about you, doesn’t change the fact that it was never meant to be here.

As if sensing the weight of your gaze, Hyunjin turns and his eyes meet yours immediately. Surprise flickers briefly across his face, then fades into something gentler.

Neither of you speak. The moment stretches thin, suspended between the two of you.

You look away and turn on your heel, heart thudding a little too hard, and start down the hallway toward your next class.

Behind you, you don’t hear him follow. But you feel the echo of his attention linger long after you’ve gone and you don’t know yet whether that unsettles you more than the painting being seen.

-

Studio H has gotten a renovation done months ago but many students choose not to use it anymore because of the fire, the building is old and narrow, and secluded from the rest of the school. This space understands silence better than most people do and for you, that’s the whole charm of it.

There’s only one other person using the studio other than you. Ben. He’s a fellow sculptor, doesn’t talk much and keeps it to himself most of the time which is why you’re comfortable sharing the space with him.

You greet him with a small nod as you step inside. He lifts a hand in return, already half-lost in his work, headphones slipping over his ears. You walk to your usual spot near the back, the stool already molded to the shape of you from hours spent there. The half-body sculpture waits exactly where you left it, surface still bearing the marks of your last touch. You hang your bag, take your apron and put it on.

The door bangs open and someone stumbles in carrying far too much at once—an easel clattering against the frame, a box filled with what looks like paint tubes and brushes threatening to spill, two blank canvases pressed awkwardly under one arm. A backpack recklessly hangs off one shoulder.

Hyunjin freezes for half a second when he spots you, then grins like the disruption is part of his charm. Unfazed, he crosses the room and drops everything into the far corner, directly across from your space.

You watch him quietly as he straightens, dusts off his hands, then shrugs like it’s nothing. “I’m a student here. I can use whichever studio I want,” he says with a coy shrug.

You don’t respond but tie your apron and pick up your sculpting tool, turning back to your work as if he isn’t there. But he is.

You feel the way his presence alters the room, the subtle shift in energy. The scrape of the easel as he adjusts it. The soft clink of paint tubes. The rustle of canvas. You try to tune it out, focus on the curve of the shoulder you’re shaping, the line you want to soften. But it doesn’t work because you’re fully aware that he’s there, close enough to matter, close enough to be intentional.

And that’s what bothers you most. You don’t know why he’s here, but you have the uneasy feeling that at least part of the answer is you.

-

People drift between studios all the time, especially this one, tucked away and forgotten. Hyunjin will get bored, you think. He’ll realize there’s nothing here for him.

But on the next day, his easel is already set up when you arrive. The third day, he’s rearranged the corner just enough to make it his. He moves through the space with an ease that unsettles you, like he’s found comfort faster than he should have.

It annoys you more than you expect. You try to ignore him, the same way you ignore most people. You focus on your sculpture, on the press and pull of clay beneath your fingers. Still, you register everything: the scrape of his chair, the soft hum of music leaking from his headphones, the way he pauses sometimes, staring at his canvas like he’s waiting for it to answer back.

A few days in, he starts bringing coffee. He arrives one afternoon with a cardboard tray balanced in one hand, steam curling up toward the ceiling. He offers cups around casually like he’s always been part of this routine. Ben accepts one with a surprised laugh, pulling off their headphones to say thanks.

Hyunjin doesn’t ask you. He just sets a cup down on the empty table near your station and moves on, as if he knows you’ll decide for yourself.

You don’t touch it, but the warm, bitter, faintly sweet smell lingers longer than you want it to.

Another day, you glance up briefly and find him leaning against Ben’s table talking quietly. They’re smiling and chatting. You don’t hear what’s being said, only catch the way Hyunjin’s hands move when he talks, expressive, animated. It’s strange, seeing him like this here, in a space that never belonged to him before.

Hyunjin laughs at something Ben says and the sound makes your chest tighten, just a little. A few minutes later, he wanders over to your station. You feel him before you see him, the air shifting as he stops beside you. You keep working, carving carefully, refusing to acknowledge him. He doesn’t say anything but stands there, watching. Finally, you glance up and he smiles at you, quiet and unintrusive. Not the kind meant to impress or demand. Just… there.

You look back down at your sculpture, irritation curling low in your stomach. You still don’t know what he wants. But it’s becoming harder to pretend he isn’t slowly making himself impossible to ignore.

-

You already know you’ll see Hyunjin.

The thought settles in your mind sometime between your last class and studio H, and instead of following it, you turn the other way. You leave campus behind, cut through streets you know by heart, and end up at the city park just as the afternoon light begins to thin.

The fountain is cold and still, icicles hanging off the edge like flows of water frozen in time. You sit on a bench nearby and pull your sketchbook free, tucking your hands into your sleeves between strokes. The winter air bites, stiffening your fingers until you have to stop every few minutes, rubbing your palms together, breathing warmth into them before continuing. You don’t mind it. This is your version of rest.

You sketch without thinking too much, letting the page take whatever your hands give it. The sky shifts slowly above you, washed in pale gold and fading blue. People come and go—joggers, couples, someone walking their dog—sometimes sharing the bench for a moment before moving on. You notice them only in passing, vaguely, like background noise.

“Hey,” a voice says. “Do you mind if I sit?”

You look up from your drawing and Hyunjin stands there, hands hooked into the straps of his bag, breath fogging faintly in the cold. He smiles when he sees you, easy and confident, like this was always a possibility.

You slowly look back down at your sketchbook. “It’s a public space. Sit wherever you want.”

He takes that as permission.

He drops down beside you immediately, close enough that your sleeves brush. You stiffen, but he doesn’t comment. He just starts pulling things out of his bag: sketchbook, pencils, eraser. He lines them up neatly on the bench between you.

When you think he’s done, you hear the quiet tear of plastic. All of a sudden, he presses something into your hand. You look down to find a small heat pack, warm and humming faintly against your palm.

Hyunjin doesn’t look at you but flips open his sketchbook to a clean page like he didn’t just do all that and starts drawing, pencil moving with slow confidence. You sit there, stunned, heat seeping into your fingers. And for a long moment, you let him.

The two of you draw in silence, the space between you filled with the scratch of pencil and the distant sound of the city. Your hands loosen. The cold eases. The sky darkens until the last streak of color slips below the horizon, and the park gradually empties, footsteps fading one by one.

When it’s finally quiet enough to hear your own breathing, you close your sketchbook and turn to him. “Say what you want.”

Hyunjin pauses, pencil hovering. He pretends to think about it, eyes drifting upward like he hadn’t come here with intention stitched into every step. Then he looks at you with eyes soft, smile gentler than you expect.

“Uhm… Coffee?”

-

The café is warm in a way that slowly seeps into your bones. Steam curls up from your cup, fogging the space between you and the table, carrying the earthy, comforting scent of coffee. You don’t drink it right away. You just sit there and watch him.

Hyunjin cradles his cup like it’s something fragile. He lifts it, inhales first with eyes closing briefly, a small smile pulling at his mouth before taking a careful sip. He looks at ease like he isn’t sitting across from someone who’s wound tight enough to snap.

You keep watching and he doesn’t call you out on it, doesn’t shift or fidget or ask what you’re staring at. He just lets you look, like he’s used to being observed and has nothing to hide.

It’s been a moment and you’re not exactly enjoying his company so you decide being the one who breaks first. “I know you won the student art prize last year,”

He nods once, swallowing another sip. “Yes.”

“So I’m assuming all of this—congratulating me, suddenly working in my studio, following me around—”

“I didn’t stalk you,” he cuts in calmly.

You pause, eyes narrowing.

“Ben told me you go to the park when you skip the studio,” he adds, unbothered. “I just… guessed.”

You ignore that entirely, lean back slightly and look at him properly now. “Did you do all this because you were hurt? Because you didn’t win this year, and some unknown did instead?”

Hyunjin doesn’t flinch, doesn’t defend himself. He simply sets his cup down on the table with care, porcelain meeting wood softly. Then he looks at you and smiles as he says, “I did it because I admire your work.”

You scoff before you can stop yourself. “How? You only know me now.”

He tilts his head slightly. “It’s not too late to like something.”

You don’t respond. Mostly because you don’t want to entertain him further.

Silence stretches between you, but Hyunjin doesn’t rush to fill it. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, sincere. “Technically, your painting is incredible. Your control of color, the way you layer greens without letting them turn muddy. Your brushstrokes feel intentional, not decorative. And the composition—how the eye keeps getting drawn inward instead of outward—it’s hard to do that without forcing it.”

You stare at the surface of your coffee, jaw tightening. Then you notice the way his tone shifts.

“But what stayed with me,” he continues, “was the feeling. The restraint. The way the painting doesn’t ask to be understood, but it waits. The honesty in it—how you didn’t soften anything just to make it easier to look at.”

He looks at you steadily now and somehow, you can’t look away. “That takes courage… Being that bare. Not everyone can do that.”

Something in you recoils. It feels like being cut open—not violently, but precisely. Like he’s peeled back layers you never gave permission to touch, standing there with clear sight of everything you keep hidden. You stiffen, spine straightening, walls sliding back into place.

Because this isn’t flattery. This is real. And it terrifies you.

You inhale slowly, forcing calm into your voice. “I appreciate your comments about my painting.”

You stand before he can say anything else. Your chair scrapes softly against the floor as you grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder. There’s a tightness in your chest now, something burning and dangerously close to anger.

“But I’d appreciate it more,” you add, not quite looking at him, “if you stopped coming to the studio. Paint somewhere else.”

You don’t wait for his response but walk straight to the door, push it open, and step outside. The winter air rushes to meet you, cold brushing your cheeks, your hair, stealing your breath for a second. As you head down the street, hands shoved deep into your pockets, you frown to yourself. You don’t understand why you’re so mad at him.

Only that somehow, he saw too much and you weren’t ready for that at all.

-

You walk toward the studio with your shoulders drawn in, jaw set, already bracing yourself.

You tell yourself not to but you do anyway. You picture him there before you even reach the door. Hyunjin, exactly where he’s been these past days, sprawled into the space like he belongs, like your words from last night were nothing more than background noise.

You inhale deeply before pushing the door open. Warm air rushes out to meet you as you slip inside, and you’re quick to shut it behind you, muttering a quiet curse at the cold before it can follow.

“Hey, Ben,” you say, out of habit.

Ben looks up from his station and grins, lifting his thumb in a silent thumbs-up. You nod back, automatic, already moving further inside. And oh, you’re dreading it cause you’re going to see—

Hyunjin’s spot is empty. No easel angled just a little too close to yours. No canvases leaning against the wall. No careless backpack slung over a chair, no presence stretching across the space and into your awareness. It’s… bare.

The corner looks wrong without him like something’s been erased.

Ben notices the pause. He slips one side of his headphones down and follows your line of sight. “Oh, Hyunjin came about an hour ago. Packed up his stuff and left,” he says casually.

You hum in response, like that information means nothing to you. You don’t ask why. You just move. Your feet carry you to your station on instinct, hands already reaching for your apron, body slipping back into the familiar rhythm of work. Clay beneath your fingers, cool and solid, grounding you as you pick up where you left off.

Still, your eyes betray you. They flick up now and then, drifting to that empty corner across the room. Each time, they pause for half a second too long, as if they’re waiting for something to fill the space, as if they need time to adjust.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Just a habit you’ll break.

-

The cold deepens quietly, the kind that doesn’t announce itself until it’s already settled into your bones. Each day, the walk to the studio becomes a struggle—air biting at your cheeks, breath fogging in front of you like a small, constant reminder that winter has decided to stay. You haven’t seen Hyunjin since that night in the café. Not in the studio. Not in the halls. Not hovering in places you didn’t ask him to be. You tell yourself that’s good. That it’s what you wanted.

Today, snow is already falling by the time you reach the studio. It crunches beneath your boots, a soft, brittle sound that follows you all the way to the door. Inside, warmth wraps around you instantly.

“God, it’s freezing,” Ben groans when you greet him.

You hum in agreement, shrugging off your coat, slipping back into routine like muscle memory. Clay under your fingers. Silence where it belongs. Time dissolves without asking permission.

You don’t notice how late it’s gotten until Ben starts packing up. He pulls on his jacket, shoulders his bag, glancing out the window with a frown. “Weather’s supposed to get bad tonight. You might want to head out early,” he says in quiet concern.

“I’ll wrap up soon,” you assures him.

He smiles in understanding. “Be safe, okay?”

You nod and with that, Ben leaves. The door clicks shut behind him, and the studio exhales into stillness.

It’s quiet in a way that feels heavier without other people to dilute it. You lean back against the wooden table and look out the window. Snow flutters down in uneven patterns, catching the light, softening the world into something distant and muted. There’s a strange ache in watching it—something slow and sinking that you don’t bother naming.

You work for another hour anyway and when you finally stop, your hands are numb. You wash them thoroughly, watching the clay spiral down the drain, then button your coat all the way up, tugging it tight around your throat. Bag over your shoulder. You take one last glance around the studio and then you step outside.

The snow comes down immediately, clinging to your hair, your sleeves, the lashes of your eyes. You shut the door carefully behind you, already dreading the long, freezing walk to the bus stop. You turn toward the school gate and halt to a stop when you see someone there.

Hyunjin, leaning against the wall, hands tucked into his coat pockets, snow caught in his hair, dusting the collar of his coat and the red scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. He looks like he’s been standing there for a while, long enough for the cold to settle into him. Yet, he smiles when he sees you like all of that doesn’t bother him.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, incredulous.

“Waiting for you,” he says easily. Then, as if it’s obvious, “You didn’t want me in your studio.”

“So?”

“So I waited outside.”

That only makes it worse. “Why?”

He coyly shrugs. “I figured you’d be out late. And the buses stop running when the weather gets like this.”

He glances at the snow, then back at you. “So I’ll… drive you home.”

None of it makes sense. You don’t understand why he’s here. Why he’s worried. Why he’s standing in the cold like this is something he owes you. You’re no one to him. You should tell him to leave. You should say thank you. You should say anything that resembles civility. Instead, what comes out is sharp and raw and unfiltered.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Hyunjin just smiles, breath fogging in the air as he once again, coyly shrugs.

-

The car is warm in a way that makes you too aware of everything else.

Hyunjin drives with one hand on the wheel, eyes steady on the road, posture relaxed but attentive. He doesn’t put music on, doesn’t fill the silence with idle talk. The only sound is the low hum of the engine and the soft crunch of tires rolling over snowed road.

You watch the world slide past the window as streetlights blurred into halos, sidewalks smoothed over by white, everything looking quieter, cleaner. Snow has a way of making the city feel forgiven like nothing bad has ever happened here, like nothing bad ever will. It’s almost convincing.

When he stops in front of your apartment building, you don’t move right away. The engine clicks off. Silence pours into the car, low and intimate. The windows fog slowly, your breath and his blurring the glass until the outside world feels very far away.

This time, he’s the one who speaks. “I tried. After you asked me to stop,” Hyunjin says quietly. “I really did.”

He exhales, fingers loosening on the steering wheel. “But every time I walk past your painting… it just—” He shakes his head, a soft, almost disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. “It makes me like you more.”

The words are simple, almost innocent. You take them the way you’ve learned to take things like this. As intentions. As strategies. As something said with a desired outcome already in mind. You can already see where this goes—hopes raised too high, expectations forming, the inevitable collapse waiting patiently at the end. Disappointment. Pain. Regrets. More Pain.

So you scoff, soft but sharp. “So that’s what you want now? Us?”

You finally turn to him, eyes steady but intense. “You want to be boyfriend and girlfriend? Walk around campus holding hands? Kiss and dance under the snow like we’re in some romance movie?”

Your voice stays calm, but there’s something mocking beneath it.

Hyunjin doesn’t flinch as he easily says, “Yeah.”

Then, just as quickly, he adds, “We don’t have to do all of that. Not yet.”

You let out a short laugh because he really doesn’t seem to hear the sarcasm woven in your words.

Hyunjin shifts closer, an arm reaching into the backseat. The movement catches your attention despite yourself as his head lingers so close to yours for a brief moment. He pulls out a folded brochure and holds it out to you.

It takes you a second to register that it’s a brochure for an art exhibition of your favorite sculptor. Your fingers close around it before you can stop them.

“We can start with this,” he says softly.

You hate that you’re considering it, hate that the thought doesn’t feel heavy or terrifying and that it’s easy and possible.

“It’s this Saturday,” he adds, smiling.

You swallow, then hand the brochure back. “I don’t do this,” you say.

“Do what?”

You hesitate for a moment. Then—

“This. Going out. You and me—” You trail off, choosing not to finish the sentence.

He studies you for a moment, then nods like he’s reached a conclusion all on his own. “That’s okay. You don’t have to come.”

Relief barely has time to settle before he continues. “Just so you know, I’ll be waiting outside. In case you change your mind.”

You know what he’s doing. You recognize the shape of it. Emotional leverage dressed up as patience.

You decide not to respond. You unbuckle your seatbelt, fingers steady despite everything tightening in your chest. “Thank you for the ride,” you say.

The cold rushes in the second you open the door. You step out, shut it behind you, and don’t look back.

-

Hyunjin tells himself this was a bad idea. Standing outside the gallery, hands buried deep in his coat pockets, cold seeping through the soles of his shoes, he replays the conversation in his head for the hundredth time.

Waiting outside. In case you change your mind. He winces at his own words.

What was he thinking? This only gives you a way out. He should’ve picked you up, should’ve insisted, should’ve bribed you with something. Anything would’ve been better than this self-inflicted purgatory.

Snow gathers along the edges of the sidewalk. People pass him, couples slipping into the warmth of the gallery, chatting lightly, shaking snow from their coats.

He checks his watch and it’s only been twenty-eight minutes from the appointed time. It hasn’t even been that long, and yet he already senses the disappointment. He exhales, breath fogging in the air, shaking his head at himself.

Of course you wouldn’t come. He knows better than to be angry about it. You were clear. He’s the one who chose to hope anyway. That’s on him.

A few minutes later, acceptance settles in. He reaches into his coat pocket, fingers brushing against his car keys, ready to call it. Ready to leave before he makes a bigger fool of himself.

Then, he looks up and there you are, climbing the steps toward the entrance, coat pulled tight around you, expression calm and composed as always. His hand stills mid-motion, keys half out of his pocket. For a moment, he honestly thinks he’s imagining you.

You stop right in front of him. Your eyes briefly flick to the keys in his hand. “Planning to leave?” you ask flatly, a teasing edge cutting through your deadpan tone.

He gulps, then recovers fast. Too fast. “No. Just—uh—making sure I had my car keys with me.”

You raise an eyebrow in doubt. “Thought you were giving up. Figured you’d assume I wasn’t coming.”

“I didn’t,” he replies immediately, way too quick to be believable.

He sees the way your lips twitch, the split second where a smile almost breaks through before you look away, eyes fixed on the gallery doors instead.

“Can we go in? It’s cold,” you say, shoving your hands deeper into your coat pockets.

Relief hits him so hard it almost knocks the air from his lungs. “Yeah—yeah,” he says, already turning, holding the door open for you. “Of course.”

-

Walking through the gallery with you feels nothing like Hyunjin imagined.

It’s quieter than the campus halls. White walls. Soft lighting. The kind of space that asks people to lower their voices, even their thoughts.

You move slowly, hands tucked into your coat sleeves, stopping in front of each sculpture like you’re greeting an old acquaintance. Hyunjin stays half a step behind you, watching the way your eyes trace lines and shadows before you even look at the plaque.

“So,” he says, stopping beside you in front of a tall, abstract piece, “tell me everything.”

You glance at him. “You can read the brochure.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Or,” you add dryly, “ask the curator.”

He leans closer, lowering his voice like he’s letting you in on a secret. “That defeats the purpose.”

You sigh. “And what purpose is that?”

“Bringing you,” he says easily.

You scoff. “Why me?”

He smiles, eyes warm. “Because you’re the only sculptor I know.”

“That’s a lie,” you reply immediately. “Ben’s a sculptor.”

Hyunjin barely thinks before answering, “Yeah, but there’s nothing romantic about taking Ben here.”

You stop walking and turn to look at him. “I came because I thought it supposed to be educational,” you say.

“It is,” he says, grinning. “With romantic undertones.”

You shake your head, muttering something under your breath as you move on, but a few steps later, you start talking anyway. About the negative space. About balance. About how the sculptor clearly wanted the weight to feel like it’s leaning forward even though it isn’t.

Hyunjin listens, genuinely, eyes flicking between you and the piece. At one point, he tilts his head and says, far too casually, “I don’t know. Sculptors always seem like they’re just… attacking their materials.”

You stop mid-sentence, clearly offended by what he said. “Excuse you? That’s such a lazy take. Sculpting is about dialogue—about resistance and cooperation. You don’t dominate the medium, you listen to it.”

Hyunjin’s smile slowly blooming on his face, wider and brighter. “Oh, she has opinions,” he pokes fun.

You keep going, words tumbling out faster now, hands moving as you talk. You’re defending it with your whole chest, and it hits him all at once—how alive you look like this. How open.

You catch yourself a second too late. Your voice trails off. Your cheeks warm. You look away.

Hyunjin laughs softly. “Wow. I didn’t know you could talk this much.”

You shoot him a glare that lacks real bite and Hyunjin lifts his hands in surrender. But he sees you almost—almost—laugh and he counts that as a win.

By the time you reach the last room, the crowd has thinned. Hyunjin feels that soft winding-down of the evening, the way the energy shifts when there’s nothing left to discover but the exit.

You stand in front of the final piece a little longer than necessary, then step back, hands slipping into your coat pockets. “Well,” you say, turning to him, voice measured. “That’s the end of the educational trip.”

Hyunjin doesn’t miss a beat. He shakes his head, slow and confident. “Disagree.”

You narrow your eyes. “On what grounds?”

“It continues,” he says.

“With what?”

He leans in just slightly, lowering his voice like this is the most serious thing in the world. “Learning Italian cuisine.”

You stare at him, an eyebrow raises higher than the other.

He holds your gaze, completely unbothered, then smiles. “There’s an Italian place not far from here.”

He watches you think like this is a decision that will alter the trajectory of your life. Your jaw tightens. Your eyes flick toward the exit, then back to him.

Hyunjin doesn’t rush it. He’s learned better than that. Finally, without saying a word, you turn and start walking.

It takes him half a second to realize what just happened.

He catches up to you easily, falling into step beside you, a triumphant smile pulling at his lip, but careful as to not scare the moment away.

-

This Italian restaurant is what Hyunjin expected to be after reading the reviews on the internet. Farfalle, a restaurant that earned three stars rating. Great place, great food, great service but of course, you don’t care with such thing. Hyunjin doesn’t mind, he likes it that you’re more at ease with a glass of wine within reach.

The food arrives not long after and for a long while, the two of you eat in comfortable silence. Then curiosity gets the better of him.

“So,” Hyunjin says between bites, “why sculpture?”

You look up at him sharply. “What, you think that means I’m bad at it?”

He freezes for half a second. “No—no, that’s not what I meant.”

You hold his gaze, then the faintest smile appears, like a crack in glass. “I like it more. I like that it’s tangible. Heavy. Real.” You gesture lightly with your fork. “It takes patience. Time. You can’t rush it.”

Hyunjin nods, listening closely. Giving you all of his undivided attention.

“Painting,” you continue, quieter now, “is personal. I don’t do it for anyone else. It’s like… a private journal.”

That lands somewhere deep in his chest. He takes a sip of his wine, thoughtful.

“What about you? What do you do besides painting?”

Before he can swallow and answer your question, you tilt your head and add, “Let me guess—you take half the girls at school on ‘educational trips’ like this.”

He coughs once, then laughs, setting his glass down. “First of all, they were not educational.”

You hum as you reach for your wine glass. “Of course.”

“And second,” he adds, shameless, “I stopped because apparently it’s bad for me financially.”

You gasp softly, eyes widening in mock horror. “What a revelation!”

Then you lean back, fingers wrapped around the stem of the wine glass. “And how about this one?”

Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate. He looks at you in the eyes as he confidently answers, “Special occasion.”

You don’t look impressed, but he catches the way your lips curve as you lift your wine glass.

“Whatever,” you say, clinking your glass lightly against his. “You’re paying.”

Hyunjin holds your gaze as you both take a sip, smiling into the moment.

-

Outside, the cold greets you immediately and Hyunjin feels bad for telling you that he’s parked his car down the street so the two of you have to walk through the park to get there. You sigh like it’s an inconvenience carved directly into fate, but you nod and step forward anyway.

He barely lets you take two steps before stopping you. You turn, ready with another comment, but he’s already unwinding his scarf and drapes it around your neck with utter gentleness, careful.

You roll your eyes. “I was fine.”

“I know,” he says, smiling.

You let it happen and that feels nice. It matters to him.

The park is quiet and empty at this hour, snow floating lazily through the air, settling onto benches and pathways like the city has decided to hold its breath. Each step crunches softly beneath your shoes. Hyunjin listens to the sound of the night folding itself around the two of you. He smiles, warmth spreading through his chest. “We had a pretty romantic night, don’t you think?”

You glance at him. “You mean educational?”

He laughs. “Fine. Educational exhibition. Then a romantic dinner.”

“Also educational.”

He hums, pretending to consider. “So what’s next on the list?”

He remembers your words in the café and it’s playing in his head like a tune. You want to be boyfriend and girlfriend? Walk around campus holding hands? Kiss and dance under the snow like we’re in some romance movie?

He smiles at himself as he recalls it. Then looks at you. “We could try holding hands.”

“Pass.”

He nods solemnly. “Okay. Kissing?”

“Hard pass.”

Hyunjin stops walking altogether, drawing in a dramatic breath. “Dancing under the snow?”

You turn to him, unimpressed. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“This isn’t some romcom. It’s real life. People don’t just… dance under the snow.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, eyes bright and mischievous. “I beg to differ.”

Before you can react, he takes your hand and tugs you forward. You resist at first but barely. Then he feels the moment where resistance softens into reluctant allowance. He guides you gently, twirling you once, twice, laughter slipping into his voice as snow clings to your hair.

You look annoyed but he continues anyway. He spins you out, then pulls you back in a little too hard, too fast. You crash into his chest just as his foot slips on the slick pavement.

“Oh my—”

You both crash down as gravity wins. Hyunjin hits the ground first, breath knocked out of him, and you land squarely on his chest. Cold seeps through his coat, but he barely notices.

“Are you okay?” he blurts, hands already hovering, panicked.

You lift your head and you’re… laughing. Full, unguarded, breathless laughter. It catches him off guard so badly that he starts laughing too, the sound echoing into the quiet park. He asks again, softer this time. “Are you okay?”

You nod in confirmation, still laughing as you roll off him and collapse beside him.

You both lie there, side by side, staring up at the dark sky as snow drifts down, tickling your cheeks, melting into your hair. The hilarity continues for another moment until laughter slowly fades, leaving behind something tender and fragile.

Hyunjin feels this quiet, glowing fullness in his chest. A happiness so simple it almost scares him. He turns his head toward you and his heart sinks when he sees tears sliding silently into your hair.

He knows better not to rush you or interrupt you as you’re processing emotions. He watches for a moment, lets you have the space to feel whatever is breaking open inside you. Then he rolls onto his side, close but not crowding. He finds your red-rimmed eyes, shining, holding a sadness that seems too great to hold by yourself. He lifts his hand, knuckles brushing gently along your cheek, wiping the tears away. His cold skin meeting your hot tears.

“I just…” your voice breaking, heavy with sadness as you whisper, “I don’t want to get hurt.”

Something slides into place. That’s it. That’s the wall you built around yourself. Not indifference. Not pride. But fear, old and crippling.

Hyunjin wipes another tear from your temple, then cups your face fully, grounding you, steady and sure. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he quietly assures you.

You nod, even as tears cling stubbornly to your lashes.

He leans in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. Then his lips meet yours in a soft, fragile kiss, almost reverent. Not a promise of forever. Not a demand. Just proof that he’s here for anything but hurt you. He kisses you slowly, carefully because he’s aware of how easily this could shatter if handled wrong. Your lips tremble against his, and he keeps his hand steady at your cheek, grounding you and himself in the moment.

Hyunjin closes his eyes because he knows that this is something sacred. Fragile. Earned. And whatever happens next, he’ll carry this with him as something precious he was lucky enough to be given.

When you pull back, snow settles softly into your hair. Hyunjin looks at you then and understands something with quiet clarity. This isn’t something he won. It isn’t something he charmed his way into or stumbled upon by luck alone. This is permission. This is trust. This is you opening a door just wide enough for him to stand in the threshold and he knows how rare that is.

He presses his forehead lightly to yours, breath mingling with yours in the cold air, and makes himself a promise. He won’t waste this. He won’t rush you. Won’t take more than you’re ready to give. He’ll stay. He’ll prove it, not with grand gestures or pretty words, but with patience, gentleness, and care.

Because being let in like this isn’t something to take for granted. It’s something to earn. And Hyunjin knows, with a certainty that settles deep in his chest, that he wants to spend whatever time it takes earning you.

-

Hyunjin waits by the back exit with his breath fogging faintly in the cold. Both hands are buried deep in his coat pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind, eyes fixed on the path you always take to the studio.

As expected, you appear a moment later with your coat buttoned up, bag slung over your shoulder, expression calm as ever.

He smiles before he can stop himself and he notices the subtle curl of your lips when you see him. Small. Almost nothing. But to him, it’s more than enough.

You keep walking and Hyunjin falls into step beside you, matching your pace easily.

“Going to the studio?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Want to spend time with me instead?”

“Nope.”

The word is flat, but the smile tugging at your lips gives you away.

Hyunjin steps ahead of you suddenly, blocking your path. He turns, hands still in his pockets, a sly grin spreading across his face. “How about somewhere warm and quiet—where I’ll let you draw this pretty face of mine?”

He watches as you scoff but he already knows how this goes. You pretend you’re immune. You aren’t.

You sigh, defeated. “Yes to the warm and quiet. No to the pretty face.”

Despite it, Hyunjin’s grin widens. Before you can reconsider, he reaches out and takes your hand. You tense immediately, instinct flaring, trying to pull away but he holds firm. He shoves your interlocked hands into his coat pocket, warmth closing around both of you, and starts walking.

Hyunjin feels your hesitation soften just a little and he knows—this, too, is something he’s earning, step by step.

-

The city library is warm and quiet as Hyunjin promised. In fact, it’s too quiet that the only sounds that can be heard is the rustle of papers as people flips the pages on theirs book and that low, haunting creaks coming from the trolley the librarian pushes around to return the books to its shelf.

Hyunjin sits beside you on the wide windowsill on the third floor, knees drawn up slightly, sketchbook balanced against his thigh. Outside, the city stretches out in muted winter tones, rooftops dusted with snow, the skyline hazy and distant.

For a while, neither of you speak. Just pencil against paper. Breathing. Existing.

“You draw here often?” you ask suddenly, not looking at him.

 “You’d know about it too,” he says lightly as he glances over at your drawing of the city skyline, “if you didn’t coop yourself up in that abandoned studio.”

Hyunjin smiles to himself because he knows your silence by now—how it’s not dismissal, just refusal to indulge him.

The quiet returns and Hyunjin steals glances at you as he draws. The way your brows knit when you focus. The way your shoulders relax when you forget you’re being watched. There’s something unguarded about you like this—soft, real, almost painfully beautiful.

He can’t help but wanting to know more what’s inside that pretty head of yours.

“What’s your favorite season?” he asks.

“Fall.”

Honestly, Hyunjin didn’t expect that you’d answer immediately. He didn’t even expect that you’d answer at all. He holds himself back from doing any form of celebration and pretends to continue drawing to ask more.

“Favorite singer?”

“Nina Simone.”

“Favorite food?”

“Shrimp scampi.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”

“Favorite color?”

“Lilac.”

He leans in slightly, opening his mouth for another question and he closes it again when he finds you glaring at him.

“Stop asking questions,” you firmly scold.

He pouts, lower lip jutting out dramtically, genuinely offended. “I was going to ask if you want coffee.”

Your expression softens immediately. It’s subtle, but he sees it. “I’d like coffee,” you say quietly.

Hyunjin smiles and sets his sketchbook aside, then, just to push his luck, leans his head against your shoulder, letting it rest there for a beat. “Wait here, yeah?” he murmurs.

You hum in response.

He lifts his head and looks at you seriously. “I’m serious. Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes to the side. “Yes. I’ll be here.”

Satisfied, Hyunjin smiles again before walking off, warmth settling in his chest.

-

It’s hard to act calm when Hyunjin leans in too close and you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek when he tells you to wait here. His voice drops, soft but serious in a way that surprises you.

“Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”

It doesn’t sound teasing. It sounds like he means it like he’s afraid that if he turns his back, you’ll disappear. You inhale air before turning your head to look at him.

“Yes,” you steadily says even though something in your chest tightens. “I’ll be here.”

Only then does he nod, satisfied, before finally turning and walking away.

You exhale slowly once he’s gone and force yourself to focus back on your sketchbook. You draw because drawing is easier than thinking, but your eyes somehow keep drifting to Hyunjin’s sketchbook that sits beside you, unattended and flipped open. The page catches the light from the window, graphite smudged at the edges.

You hesitate because you know that you shouldn’t look into someone’s personal thing. You’d hate it too if someone does that. But you can’t resist for long, you pick it up and flip one page, then another.

They’re drawings of people. Strangers, mostly. A boy laughing with his head thrown back. An old woman with deep smile lines. Flowers sketched with detailed attention, places caught mid-breath. All of it beautiful in that quiet, unshowy way that feels honest.

“You know, most people ask first,” a voice says from behind you.

You jolt, nearly dropping the sketchbook.

Hyunjin stands there, coffee in hands, eyebrows raised, not amused.

“I—I didn’t mean to. I just—” you stammer, fully aware that you did wrong.

“Who allowed you to look through my sketchbook… without me?” he asks flatly and then breaks into a big, smile. The kind that makes his eyes form two crescent moons.

He sits back down beside you and hands you your coffee first before setting his aside. He gently takes the sketchbook from your hands. “Since you’ve already seen it, I might as well explain,” he says, the smile still etched on his face.

He flips the pages to the beginning. He eventually stops, pointing to a sketch. “This is from last summer. Kids playing in a fountain. I ruined my shoes that day.”

You smile despite yourself.

He turns the page to show a different drawing. “This one’s a little girl petting a puppy. It wasn’t even her puppy. It just came to her, asking to be petted.”

More pages, more behind stories of his drawing. Flowers from the botanical garden. A garden from one of his trips, drawn with memory rather than precision. He talks with his whole body—hands moving, voice warm, eyes lit with something unguarded.

You watch him more than the drawings. This love for his art that spills out of him naturally. Then he flips to a rough sketch of something familiar, something you’ve seen before.

You place your hand on his wrist, stopping him from flipping the page. “Wait.”

He looks at you, surprised.

“Is that… the sketch of your painting? The one that won last year’s art prize?”

He stills, not expecting that. “You know that one?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “I can see why you won. You’re… really talented.”

You hesitate, then add with sincerity, “I think you were born for this. Painting. Creating beautiful things.”

Hyunjin goes quiet, so quiet that fear flickers through you. You wonder if you somehow crossed a line, if you said too much. Then he smiles and your worries melt away with it.

“Thank you,” he says with a soft, almost disbelieving smile. “That… means a lot. Coming from you.”

You smile, a little shy. You didn’t expect that your words hold that kind of effect on him. You shake your head quickly. “You don’t have to—”

Hyunjin leans in and doesn’t stop until his plush lips meet yours in the most innocent kiss of lips meeting lips, softness on softness. He kisses you like he’s careful not to scare something fragile away.

You stiffen for half a heartbeat and honestly, you’re tired of fighting it. You cave in, slowly part your mouth open, allowing him to deepen the kiss, allowing him more of you to taste.

He retaliates by sliding his hand to the back of your head, holding you with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. He tilts his head, angling his head with such calculation to deepen the kiss the way he wants it. He parts his mouth just slightly and a soft gasp slipped out of you when you feel his tongue slipping between your lips.

In the next moment, Hyunjin pulls away for a brief moment only to have your lower lip tugged between his lips, sucking at it gently. He lets go to kiss you again, deeper, a little harder.

You can hear your own loud heartbeat and somehow, the sound of the kissing is even louder in your ears. Your heart flutters wildly, cracking open, and your fingers clutch the edge of his sketchbook like it’s the only solid thing you can hold on to.

When he pulls back, he smiles. Then he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and keeps it there. “Thank you,” he says once again and you’re not sure if he’s thanking you for your words, the kiss or both.

You mind goes blank as he presses another quick kiss to your lips, lighter this time. He puts an arm around you as he looks out of the window.

“We should go,” he says, noticing the snow coming down in flurries now. “Before the weather gets bad.”

You nod, moving on instinct, heart still unsteady, still airborne. But he takes your hand and somehow, that’s enough to keep you grounded as you walk together into the falling snow.

-

The city lights blurring past the windows like smeared paint. Snow taps lightly against the windshield, rhythmic, almost soothing. You cradle the warmth of your coffee between your palms, watching his reflection in the glass. He glances over after a while like he’s been thinking about saying something and finally gives in.

“Do you want to grab dinner first?” he asks casually, cautiously.

You shake your head, already smiling a little. “No. It’s too cold.”

He nods easily, accepting it without fuss, eyes back on the road.

For a second, that seems like the end of it. Then you add, almost absentmindedly, “We could order food instead. And just… have it at my place.”

The words settle in the car but you see the exact moment it clicks. Hyunjin stills for half a beat. Not enough to be obvious, but enough that you notice: the slight tension in his jaw, the way his grip on the steering wheel tightens before he loosens it again. He keeps his eyes forward, like if he doesn’t look at you, he can play it cool.

“Oh,” he says. Then, a breath later, “Yeah. We can definitely do that.”

You turn your face toward the window, biting back a smile as warmth blooms in your chest. You can practically feel the nerves rolling off him now, hidden behind that calm tone like he’s trying very hard not to overthink the fact that you just invited him into your space.

Snow keeps falling as the car keeps moving and you keep smiling to yourself, holding onto the small thrill of knowing you’re the reason his heart’s probably racing just a little faster right now.

-

In your bedroom, you change into comfortable clothes—an old sweater that smells faintly like laundry detergent and home, leggings worn thin at the knees. You take a breath before stepping back out like you’re crossing some invisible line.

Hyunjin is in your living room, hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans, moving slowly as if the space might spook if he’s too loud. He stops in front of the small painting on the wall—the one of your childhood pet cat, all crooked whiskers and warm amber eyes. He leans in a little, studying it with genuine focus.

“Did you order the food?” you ask, leaning against the doorframe.

He startles, just a bit. “Yeah—yeah, I did. It should be here soon.”

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. He looks… lost. Awkward. Like he’s been dropped into unfamiliar territory without a map. It’s strangely endearing, especially considering the rumors, the reputation—Hyunjin, who supposedly knows exactly what to do in every room he walks into.

“You can sit,” you tell him gently. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He nods, then pauses when you add, “Do you want something to drink?”

“A glass of water would be nice,” he says.

You head into the kitchen, already reaching for a glass, but you hear his footsteps trailing after you. You glance over your shoulder to see him standing by the fridge, eyes scanning the cluttered door.

He points at the collections of fridge magnets and then his gaze lands on the slightly faded Christmas card tucked under one of them.

“Can I see that?” he asks, softer now.

After dinner, you stand at the sink, sleeves pushed up, warm water running over your hands as you wash the dishes one by one. Hyunjin stands beside you, close enough that your elbows almost brush, carefully drying each plate before setting it aside. He hums under his breath, something absentminded, and you pretend not to notice how domestic it all feels.

He glances out the window and stills. Snow is coming down harder now, thick and relentless, the streetlights outside blurred into soft halos.

“I should probably head home soon,” he says, wistful.

Something in your chest tightens. The thought of him leaving, of the door closing behind him and the apartment going quiet again, makes you uneasy in a way you weren’t prepared for. Before you can overthink it, the words slip out. “You can stay,” you say, casual, like it doesn’t mean anything.

A beat later, you quickly add, “I just think that it’s not safe to drive in this weather.”

He turns to you slowly, brows knitting together in confusion, like he’s trying to figure out if he heard you right. Then a teasing grin spreads across his face as he leans closer.

“Are you worried about me?” he playfully asks.

You roll your eyes, focusing a little too hard on the plate in your hands. “Never mind. I take it back.”

Hyunjin moves behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. You freeze as he presses closer, his solid chest against your back, his chin settling into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles there and your breath catches despite yourself.

“You’re so considerate, so kind for not letting me drive in this weather,” he murmurs followed with a quiet laugh. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

You fight the smile threatening to give you away, squirming in his hold. “Let go,” you say, failing to sound firm.

He doesn’t obey right away but you stop resisting, letting yourself lean back just a fraction, let the moment stretch until it feels dangerously easy to stay there.

After a while, you clear your throat and try again. “I still need to finish the dishes.”

He gasps dramatically like the idea has only just occurred to him. “Oh. Right. Dishes.”

He releases you at once, stepping back with a sheepish grin, and picks up the towel again. As he resumes drying the dishes, his smile lingers while your heart keeps doing things you pretend not to notice.

-

You pull the blanket free and give it a sharp shake, letting it settle over the mattress. Hyunjin stands on the other side of the bed, holding the extra pillow, that same smile glued to his face like he’s won something and decided not to gloat about it out loud.

“What,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as you tuck one corner of the blanket in. “Why do you look like that?”

He only shrugs, still smiling, eyes following your hands as you work. It makes you oddly self-conscious, like every small movement is being carefully memorized.

You straighten up and meet his gaze. “Just so we’re clear, we’re sharing the bed because the sofa is too small for you. That’s it.”

Hyunjin nods like he’s been expecting this explanation all along. “I know. Blaming my long legs as we speak,” he says but he looks satisfied. Content in a way that makes your chest feel tight.

“And,” you add quickly, “nothing is going to happen.”

This time, he tilts his head, considering it for a second before shrugging. “Who knows?”

The smirk that follows is immediate and infuriating. You swing the pillow in your hands and hit him lightly in the chest.

He laughs and catches the pillow mid-air before it can fall. Instead of tossing it back, he hugs it to his chest, still grinning at you like this is exactly where he wants to be.

“Violence already?” he says, amused. “And we haven’t even gone to bed yet.”

You turn away to hide your face, busying yourself with smoothing the sheets, pretending your heart isn’t beating too fast.

Behind you, Hyunjin stays right where he is—smiling, pillow clutched to his chest, looking entirely too happy for someone who’s been warned that nothing is going to happen.

-

The night stretches quietly around you.

The lamp by the bed is dimmed low, casting soft shadows along the walls, and beyond the window the snow keeps falling. You and Hyunjin lie side by side under the blanket, warm and snug, a careful space kept between your bodies like an unspoken agreement. Close, but not touching.

You talk about the paintings around your apartment, the small ones tucked into corners and above shelves. You tell him which ones are yours, which ones were made by your mom.

There’s a pause, then he turns his head slightly toward you. “Can I ask about the Christmas card?”

“What about it?”

“Your grandparents called you ‘little beaver’ in it.” His tone is gentle, curious. “Why’s that?”

This is the kind of thing you don’t usually give away. It feels small, harmless but it’s yours, and it comes with the risk of being seen too clearly. Still, he’s lying there on his side, facing you, eyes patient and open, waiting without pressure.

So you give in. You keep your voice soft and low as you share. “When I was little. I was obsessed with beavers. Like—really obsessed.”

You let out a quiet breath, half a laugh before continuing. “I even made up this… beaver dance. I used to perform it for my grandparents on family gatherings, birthdays, Christmases… Anway, it was stupid.”

You wince, bracing for teasing. Instead, Hyunjin’s smile widens, warm and earnest. “That’s adorable.”

You roll your eyes, but it doesn’t quite land. “That’s why they still call me that. Little beaver. Even to this day.”

He nods like it makes perfect sense. “Are you still obsessed with beavers?”

“…A little,” you admit, a soft chuckle slipping out before you can stop it.

He grins. “Do you still remember the dance?”

“Barely.”

His eyes light up as he turns more fully toward you. “Do you think I’ll ever get to see it?”

You snort. “Never.”

“Ever?”

You shake your head firmly. “Never. Ever.”

He sighs dramatically, disappointed in a way that’s clearly exaggerated, but still sincere enough to make you smile. “That’s tragic.”

Silence settles after that, the kind that doesn’t demand filling. You glance at him without meaning to and he’s already looking at you. Soft, dark brown eyes deeply staring into yours.

Your gaze drops and notice his hand resting in the empty space between you. Palm turned up and open. Fingers relaxed, slightly curled, like an invitation.

Slowly, hesitantly, you reach for it. Your fingers brush his first, testing, before slipping between his. You lace them together loosely, like you might pull away at any second.

You can’t remember the last time you shared a bed with someone like this. Under the same blanket. Talking about nothing and everything. Offering childhood memories instead of defenses. Being listened to—truly listened to.

Once upon a time, you did this without fear and it broke you.

You remember what came after: being hurt, manipulated, lied to. Cheated on. Your heart shattered so completely that you were sure it would never fit back together the same way. So you built strong walls. Grew a thicker shell. Learned how to survive by keeping everything out. You told yourself that strength meant distance.

But lying here now, fingers tangled with his, you realize something else: you’re strong because you’re fragile. Because you feel things deeply. Because you still can. And it terrifies you.

The fear creeps in quietly at first, then all at once. Your chest tightens. Your breath turns shallow. Your heart shakes like it’s shrinking in on itself, and suddenly it feels hard to breathe.

“I’m… scared,” you whisper, the words barely making it past your throat.

Hyunjin turns fully toward you, concern flickering across his face but not panic. Just understanding. He knows exactly what you mean.

“I’m here,” he says it so low like a whispered prayer. “You can hold on to me.”

You see it in his eyes: sincerity, patience, something steady and real. He isn’t rushing you toward anything. He’s just offering to stay.

You scoot closer before you can talk yourself out of it and the moment you do, his arms gently come around you, pulling you into his chest. He’s warm, solid, familiar already. His scent surrounds you, calming something deep in your chest you didn’t realize was still hurting.

You realize then that loving someone is a leap—an act of faith. It’s stepping off the edge and trusting that someone will catch you.

And right now, wrapped in Hyunjin’s arms, you’re not sure you’re ready for it but your hand clutches at his shirt, clinging onto his chest because it feels like you’re already falling.

-

The weather’s been kinder lately. You notice it halfway through class, the way the light slips in through the window without that harsh winter glare, the sky pale instead of heavy. Snow still lingers in corners of the campus, but the air feels forgiving like it’s giving you a break. You rest your chin against your palm and stare outside a little too long, thoughts drifting somewhere warm and soft and entirely distracting.

The bell rings before you realize it. You gather your things and step out into the hallway. You stop short the second you notice the long, silky hair, the stance that oozes quiet confidence and the eyes that forms into crescents as he smiles.

Hyunjin stops leaning against the wall outside your classroom, his whole face lights up like he’s been waiting only for this exact second. Before you can say a word, he’s already grabbing your hand.

“I still have another class and—” you start, but he’s moving, pulling you gently into the flow of students flooding the hallway.

“I know,” he says easily, like he’s reading your mind.

You glance at him, suspicious. “Then why are you—”

He veers sharply to the side, tugging you with him and slipping into an empty classroom. The door shuts quietly behind you, cutting off the noise of the hallway.

“Hyunjin,” you warn, half-amused, half-confused.

He turns to face you, eyes gleaming. “Do you have your apartment keys with you?”

Your brows knit together. “…What?”

He tilts his head, patient but clearly pleased with himself. “Your keys.”

Slowly, you nod. “Yeah?”

“Where?”

Still confused, you reach into your bag, fingers rummaging past notebooks and pencils before closing around the cold metal. You pull them out and Hyunjin snatches them from your hand.

“Hey—!” you protest.

“I’m borrowing these,” he says cheerfully.

“For what?”

He smirks. “It’s a surprise.”

You groan immediately. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“That’s because you don’t like surprises,” he counters, clearly enjoying this far too much.

He steps closer, hands settling on your arms, grounding you in place. “One more thing,” he says, suddenly serious. “You’re not allowed to come home before seven.”

You stare at him. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Hyunjin—”

He cuts you off by leaning in and kissing you. It’s long and lingering, the kind that steals your breath and leaves your thoughts scattered. His lips are warm, familiar now in a way that still makes your chest flutter.

When he finally pulls back, he flashes you a crooked grin, eyes bright with mischief. “See you later,” he says.

You don’t answer—just let out a long, defeated sigh.

He laughs softly, already turning to go. But after two steps, he spins back around and presses another quick peck to your lips, stealing it before you can react.

This time, he leaves for real—half-jogging down the hallway, giggling like he’s just won something. You watch him go, the messy bun bouncing at the back of his head, your heart doing something reckless in your chest.

It’s only when the hallway starts to empty that you realize you’re almost late for your next class.

-

You’ve got a little more than two hours to kill. Which feels illegal, somehow—being told not to go home to your own apartment. You end up walking to the studio out of habit, letting your feet decide for you while your mind keeps circling back to the same thing: seven o’clock.

When you step inside, the familiar scent of clay and dust greets you. Ben’s already there, hunched over his sculpture, headphones on, head nodding slightly with whatever he’s listening to.

Noticing your arrival, Ben slips one side of his headphones down and looks at you, eyebrows lifting. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You halt to a stop. “Why not?”

He squints at you, then smirks. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Thought you and Hyunjin would be… I don’t know. Have plans.”

You scoff, a short laugh escaping you before you can stop it. So that’s the kind of “surprise” Hyunjin’s cooking up. A valentine’s day surprise.

You shake your head and walk to your usual spot. The motions come back to you easily: apron on, hands working the material, body remembering what to do even when your mind refuses to cooperate. You used to lose yourself here.

Now, your phone keeps stealing your focus. You check the time. Put it away. Work for five minutes. Check again.

The sculpture takes shape under your hands, but you’re not really seeing it. Your thoughts keep drifting out of your body back to Hyunjin, smirking as he snatched your apartment keys from your hand.

You catch yourself calculating instead of creating. How long it takes to walk home. What time you’d have to leave to arrive around the allowed time for you to come home. You feel restless, anticipatory in a way that makes you want to roll your eyes at yourself.

When you finally glance at the clock and realize it’s time, you don’t hesitate. You peel off your apron and grab your bag.

Ben looks up just as you’re heading for the door, one eyebrow arching. “Leaving already?” he asks.

You pause and smile. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t tease you. Just nods and says, “Be safe on your way home.”

“I will,” you reply, soft.

You wave once and step outside.

The cold hits immediately, but this time, you don’t brace yourself against it. You pull your coat tighter and start walking, breath fogging in the air, heart steady and warm. Because now you have something to come home to.

-

You inhale air before pushing the door to your apartment open and the first thing that hits you is the smell. Something warm, rich… and dangerously close to burning.

You step inside, frowning slightly, and you find Hyunjin in your kitchen, sleeves pushed up, hair tied messily, standing over the stove like he’s in the middle of a battle. Steam rises aggressively from a pot of pasta he’s just strained, curling into the air as he waves a towel uselessly at it, half-coughing, half-cursing under his breath.

For a second, you just stand there and watch him.

When he turns his head and finds you there, his eyes widen, panic flashing across his face like he’s just been caught committing a crime. “Why are you here?”

“Because this is my apartment,” you simply answer.

He stares at you, horrified, then asks more urgently this time. “No, why are you here this early?”

You calmly pull out your phone and hold it up between you, the screen glowing. 7:14 p.m.

“I came right on time.”

Hyunjin gasps like the realization physically knocks the air out of him. “Oh—shoot.”

He whips his head back toward the stove, muttering under his breath. “I lost track of time—oh my god—”

He spirals for a second, moving between the counter and the stove, hands everywhere, unsure whether to save the pasta, turn off the heat, or simply lie down on the floor and accept defeat.

He eventually stops. Straightens his back. Takes a breath. Runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to reboot himself. He turns back to you, forcing a smile that’s a little too tight but very sincere. “Okay. So. I need… like, ten minutes. Maybe fifteen. To set things up.”

You open your mouth, ready to say you can help but one look at him tells you he’s already juggling too much. You don’t want to be another thing he has to manage so you nod.

“Go get changed,” he says gently, ushering you toward the hallway. “I’ll call you when it’s… ready.”

You nod once again and then turn toward your bedroom. As you close the door behind you, the sounds of clattering pans and frantic movement resume on the other side. And despite yourself, despite the smell of nearly burnt pasta, despite the chaos on the other side of the door, despite the way everything is clearly not going according to plan— you smile.

-

It’s been twenty minutes since you sit on the edge of your bed, already changed, already ready.

You quietly open the door just a crack to have a peek into situation on the other side of the door. Hyunjin crossing the living room, disappearing into the kitchen, coming back with something in his hands. He doesn’t look done. Not even close.

So you quietly push the door shut again, giving him the grace of time. You us the spare time to brush your hair slowly, add a sheer layer of lipstick—just enough color to look alive. A few sprays of perfume at your wrists and neck.

When you peek again, the living room lights are off. Your heart does a small, traitorous flip.

You close the door gently this time, clear your throat, and raise your voice just enough to carry. “Can I come out now?”

There’s a pause and then the sound of movement that is rather clumsy.

“Give me a second,” Hyunjin says, slightly breathless.

You bite back a smile, picturing him rushing around your apartment, adjusting things, fixing something that probably doesn’t need fixing.

A moment later, he announces, “Okay. You can come out now.”

You inhale air, steady yourself and then turn the knob.

The living room is dark, save for the soft glow spilling from the kitchen and the amber flicker of candles arranged on the dining table. The light dances gently, low and intimate, casting shadows that make the space feel smaller like the world has narrowed down to just this room.

Hyunjin stands beside the table, changed into a white shirt and a tie. And— blue jeans?

You almost laugh at the combination, but the thought dissolves the second you take in his whole look and honestly, he looks good in everything. What you like the most though is the way he’s standing there now, a little nervous, a little proud, smiling at you like this moment matters more than anything.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says.

Once upon a time, you would’ve scoffed. Rolled your eyes. Thought it was corny. Cringe. Too much. But now, standing here on the receiving end of candlelight and effort and someone wanting to make something special just for you, you understand.

Those reactions were never about the romance. They were about never being chosen like this. And right now, you feel special.

You take slow steps toward him, the candlelight catching in your eyes, and Hyunjin’s smile never wavers even for a second, a little too soft for someone who used to feel so untouchable. Then he reaches behind his back.

“Uh—” he starts, and pulls out a bouquet.

You stop right in front of him as he offers it to you, both hands like it’s something precious. You take it, fingers brushing his, and he exhales like he’s been holding his breath this whole time.

“I didn’t know your favorite flowers,” he says quickly, a little sheepish, “but you said your favorite color is lilac, so… I got lilac.”

You lift the bouquet to your nose, breathing in the subtle floral scent, hiding your smile behind the soft petals.

“And,” he adds, rubbing the back of his neck, “apparently there are a lot of kinds of lilac. So I kind of… got all of them.”

In this light, stripped of rumors and confidence and reputation, Hyunjin is just… a boy—slightly silly, a bit awkward, visibly nervous and somehow, that makes him unbearably adorable.

You lower the bouquet, take one more step closer. “Thank you,” you murmur.

Before you can change your mind, you lean in to press a quick kiss on his lips. When you pull away, you see the surprise flicker across his face, eyes wide for half a second before he blinks.

You grin. “My lipstick got on you.”

He smacks his lips together experimentally, like he’s tasting it. “Oh.”

You tilt your head. “Never mind. It looks good on you.”

His smile turns slow, dangerous in the gentlest way. “You should put more on me then.”

You laugh. “I’ll go grab it from my room real quick.”

“Never mind,” he says quickly, moving to pull out your chair. “Sit.”

You raise an eyebrow, playful. “Wow. Very demanding.”

But you obey, sitting down and placing the bouquet carefully on the table. Up close, you really take in the effort—the candles, the plates, the way he’s tried to make everything feel intentional.

“Can I eat now?” you ask hopefully. “I’m starving.”

He holds up a finger, stopping you. “Wine first.”

You wait patiently as he uncaps the bottle, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation and fear. When the cork finally pops, his shoulders jump, and you both burst into laughter. He pours the wine, rich red filling your glasses, the aphrodisiac smell of it wafting around the room.

“To—” he starts, lifting his glass, then hesitates.

“To what?” you ask.

He goes quiet, genuinely thinking.

“How about… successfully not setting my apartment on fire?”

He laughs, relieved. “Yeah. That.”

You clink your glasses together, finally having that sip of sweet, earthy tone of the wine.

“Okay. Now can we eat?” you ask impatiently.

His hands fly to the lids covering the plates of dinner and sighs dramatically before reveal them. “Your favorite. Shrimp scampi.”

You lean in, impressed. It looks… good. But you don’t skip the chance to tease him. “Is it safe to eat though?”

He nods confidently. “I followed the recipe. I just can’t remember if I added salt or baking soda.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Thank you for the food.”

You have a taste of it and it’s not exactly how you like it, but it’s good. For someone who made it for the first time in his life, he did well.

He watches you too closely. “Well?”

“It’s good,” you say.

“You can be honest.”

“It’s good because I’m hungry,” you jokingly say.

He smiles, entirely unoffended.

Dinner continues like that, filled with teasing, light conversation, easy laughter that comes naturally and sitting there, you realize something quietly—

You feel content.

-

The plates are empty now, pushed to the side, crumbs wiped away. The candles have burned lower, wax pooling lazily at their bases, and the room feels warmer like it’s wrapped itself around the two of you.

“So,” Hyunjin says, swirling the dark red in his glass. “Did you like the dinner?”

You nod without hesitation. “Surprisingly, I did.”

His face brightens immediately, pride blooming so openly it makes your chest ache a little. But you lift a finger before he can bask in it too long. “I liked everything. Except the part where I wasn’t allowed to come home to my own apartment.”

His lips form a coy pout. “I’m not sorry.”

You huff, but there’s no real heat behind it. Silence settles again, gentle this time. You take another sip of your wine, then look at him, sitting there in your space, surrounded by candlelight and effort and intention.

“…Thank you,” you say quietly. “I don’t remember the last time someone did something like this for me.”

“Yeah,” he says lightly, “I can tell.”

You shoot him a look but it does make him feel the slightest but intimidated like you hope it would.

“That look doesn’t scare me anymore,” he says with a soft chuckle.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself.

He drinks from his glass, then glances at you over the rim. “By the way, did you prepare a gift for me?”

Your brows knit together. “What gift?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day. I gave you plenty of time to think of a gift.”

You gape at him. “You didn’t even tell me you were doing this. I only found out it's Valentine’s Day from Ben.”

“Oh, so you had a source,” he counters.

“That doesn’t count!”

The argument dissolves quickly into bickering and slowly descends into hilarity, then burst into laughter, the kind that makes your shoulders loosen and your chest feel light.

“Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands. “You don’t have to get me anything.”

You nod. “Good.”

“But,” he adds, eyes glinting, “it doesn’t have to be an object.”

You narrow your eyes, not liking the sound of it.

His gaze flicks past you, toward the fridge, toward the Christmas card. He leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes crinkling as his voice softens into something dangerously sweet. “Can I see the beaver dance?”

You groan, leaning back in your chair. “Absolutely not.”

He clasps his hands together. “Please.”

“I barely remember it.”

“I’ll take a glimpse. A hint. A historical reenactment,” he tries his best to coax you.

You mumble something incoherent, dragging a hand down your face. Every instinct tells you to refuse, but then you look at him. At the care. The effort. The way he looks at you like this moment matters.

It’s just a silly little dance, you tell yourself.

With a long sigh, you cave. “Fine.”

His grin is immediate and radiant, like he’s just been handed the greatest gift in the world.

You drain half your glass in one go before you can change your mind, the wine warming your chest as you stand up from the table.

“Sit,” you tell him, pointing at the sofa like it’s an order.

Hyunjin obeys immediately, a little too happily, hands clasped together on his lap, eyes bright with anticipation.

You stand in front of him and inhale. Exhale. You wait another second to let the wine takes effect on your nerves. This is a terrible idea. You tell yourself but begin moving anyway. You lift one hand then immediately cringe.

“Wait. I need another second,” you mutter, grabbing your glass again and taking another long sip before returning to your spot.

Okay. Let’s get it over with.

You stare at the floor, replaying fragments of memory you haven’t touched in years. Made up lyrics only you remember. Movements half-lost to time. Your hands curl into small fists, lifting under your chin, elbows tucked in as you sway awkwardly from side to side the way a beaver does.

You mumble-sing under your breath about a beaver who can swim, about it eating apple, about things that made sense only to a child once. You shuffle, hop a little, mimic gnawing motions, cheeks burning, laughter bubbling up because you can’t believe you’re actually doing this.

The whole time, you’re avoiding Hyunjin’s eyes, hate to catch that smile of satisfaction on his devastatingly beautiful face. You continue until you can’t recall the rest of the choreography from memory but you finish with one last ridiculous beaver pose.

That’s when you finally glance up—still laughing, still breathless, ready to see him doubled over, teasing you forever about this.

However, Hyunjin isn’t laughing. He is very still. He looks at you with something so soft, so full, it almost hurts to see. Fondness, yes—but also something deeper. Wistful. Like he’s been shown a piece of sunlight he didn’t know he was missing.

Your stance falter, so does your smile. “…You can just say it,” you joke weakly. “I look silly. Or funny. Or—”

He stands before you can finish. In two long strides, he closes the distance, takes your hands gently, and guides you down onto the sofa. Then he kneels in front of you, right there. Your hands are still in his as he looks up at you, eyes shining even in the low light, voice trembling just enough to be honest.

“I don’t know how much you’ve been hurt. But I hate, I hate whoever made you feel like you had to hide this part of yourself.”

Your chest tightens but you daringly look back into his eyes, holding his gaze steadily.

“I hate that someone made you build walls,” he continues, gaze never leaving yours. “When there’s something this beautiful inside you.”

Your heart quivers because he sees it. All of it. And he isn’t flinching.

“Thank you,” he whispers, squeezing your hands. “For trusting me with this. With you.”

Your vision blurs as tears pooling in your eyes. It’s the way he looks at you, touched you with words that aren’t just words, they’re heavy with meaning and intentions and emotions.

“I promise,” he says, voice steady now, full of conviction, “I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. To make you smile. To make sure you never feel like you have to hide again.”

Tears spill despite yourself and in that moment, you know it with bone-deep certainty. He’s there. He’s not stepping back. He’s on his knees, ready to catch you.

So you lean forward and kiss him.

And this time, you don’t hesitate.

You take the leap.

-

The snow that once clung stubbornly to the ground is gone now, reduced to wet patches and darkened sidewalks, and the light outside feels softer, warmer. The sky is pale and open, the air no longer biting. You smile to yourself because spring is coming—you can feel it in the way the world seems to be slowly loosening its grip.

When the bell rings and you step out into the low hum of the hallway, Hyunjin is already waiting outside your class, leaning against the wall like he’s always been meant to be. His smile is warm and beautiful when his eyes find yours, and something in your chest eases at the sight of it. You walk straight into his space without thinking, rising onto your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. He lets out a soft laugh, surprised but pleased, and when your fingers slide into his, he laces them together like he’s been doing it for years instead of weeks.

You move down the hallway hand in hand, carried along by the crowd but somehow separate from it, talking over each other about nothing and everything—coffee or a walk, somewhere quiet or somewhere familiar, now or later.

Hyunjin squeezes your hand as he talks, glancing at you like he’s trying to remember this exact moment, as if this ordinary afternoon matters. You bump your shoulder into his on purpose, smiling, already knowing you’ll figure it out together, wherever you end up.

And maybe that’s how it begins and continues.

Maybe the future is unclear, maybe there are still questions neither of you are ready to answer yet, but as you walk beside Hyunjin, you know one thing for certain: you are no longer afraid of wanting, of choosing, of loving out loud.

And if loving Hyunjin means stepping forward without knowing exactly where you’ll land, then this time, you’re willing to do it bravely, openly—together.

-

he mumbles under his breath about deadlines and “noodle anatomy,” so softly you almost think you imagined it. at other times, he just stares at the ceiling, unmoving, as if some divine inspiration might drip down from the drywall. and every now and then, he groans so dramatically it sounds like he’s dying, only for you to find out he’s just trying to draw a bent knee.

he’s quiet. not shy, and not in a way that makes you feel obligated to fill the silence. just… contained. coiled. the kind of quiet that holds weight— his thoughts are vivid and volatile, too loud to voice, so he seals them between the pages of his sketchbooks. it’s safer that way. nothing escapes. nothing catches fire.

you’ve never seen him bring anyone home.

not once. not even after those late-night figure drawing classes, or the weekend studio exhibitions where people tend to get a little too wine drunk and giggly. you’ve never heard him talk about crushes or hookups or even eye someone on the quad. never even caught him flirting. he barely acknowledges strangers in passing, doesn’t register compliments from the girls who sometimes stop to peek through the dorm windows and whisper about “that one hot art guy.”

he doesn’t go out much either, never really parties, barely shows up to campus events, and treats grocery runs like hostile field missions. most of the time, he’s holed up in his room with the door cracked open, back hunched over his tablet or sketchpad, headphones in, eyes glazed over with focus.

there are moments he doesn’t respond when you speak. you’ll knock, pass his room more than once, and the only hint he’s still breathing is the dim glow of his monitor. you pause, staring in, wondering— not for the first time— how long he’s been cooped up in there. whether he’s eaten. whether he’s slept. whether he’s working on something normal, or… something else entirely.

because you know what he draws.

he told you. casually. one night, when you were both cross-legged on the floor, splitting leftover takeout and surrounded by plastic chopsticks and empty bubble tea cups. you asked what his senior portfolio theme was, expecting something pretentious, or maybe poetic.

“manga,” he said, chewing absently.

“oh, cool,” you replied. “what genre?”

“ecchi.”

you raise a brow, confused. “…what’s that?”

he looked up slowly, eyes wide, expression borderline unreadable. “tasteful porn.”

you immediately choked on your noodles.

and that was that.

you never brought it up again. but the image of him calmly saying “tasteful porn” with the straightest face lives in your head rent free. still makes your ears burn if you think about it too long.

what’s worse is that you shouldn’t even be surprised.

but you were. maybe because hyunjin doesn’t quite fit the mold of some guy who spends most his nights hunched over his tablet, painstakingly rendering the way sheer fabric sticks to flushed skin. the way lips part, the way spines arch. he’s too pretty, ethereal even— too clean to be that filthy in private. soft jawline, delicate wrists, lips always stained pink from strawberry pocky. he uses cherry blossom shampoo. wears fuzzy socks. once, you caught him microwaving hot chocolate at two in the morning while humming the sailor moon theme song under his breath.

by all logic, he should be drowning in girls. flirty art majors, clumsy lit students, curious econ girls who like the idea of a mysterious artist boyfriend. he should have people throwing themselves at him, sliding into his dms, leaving their numbers on napkins.

but he’s not.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s because hyunjin is a total, certified goon.

the type of guy who probably jerks off to his own hentai panels with one hand in his sweats and the other still holding his apple pencil so he can make edits mid-stroke.

the type who’s too obsessed with his imaginary girls to even look at a real one.

and unfortunately for you— you’re one of them.

+

you agreed to model for his senior art portfolio last month.

he’d asked you during one of your late-night kitchen run-ins, voice low and uncertain, sketchpad balanced on one knee while he waited for his ramen to finish spinning in the microwave.

“it’s not explicit explicit,” he said, peeking up at you from under his lashes, his thumb absently smudging the corner of a half-finished eye on the page. “it’s more suggestive. tasteful.” his tone wavered between hopeful and rehearsed, like he’d been planning to ask you for a while but hadn’t quite worked up the nerve until now.

“think… moody lighting,” he added, as if that would somehow soften the blow. “lace. maybe a garter belt.”

you blinked. “a garter belt?” the words came out with an airy laugh, light and teasing, a little incredulous but not entirely opposed.

he didn’t flinch. instead, he perked up with faux earnestness, flipping his pencil between his fingers like a conductor’s baton, brows lifted in dramatic flourish. “it’s for the drama,” he insisted, as if that explained anything at all. as if drama alone justified sketching someone in lingerie.

yet somehow… you ended up agreeing.

you needed the extra cash, your campus job barely covered groceries, and your last textbook rental had drained what little remained in your savings. but part of you was flattered, too. no one had ever asked to draw you before, and definitely not like that.

but if you were really being honest, a small part of you liked the way he looked at you when you posed.

he made you feel like art. something worth preserving, not just for the shape of your body or the softness of your skin, but for the way you existed in stillness. the rhythm of your breath, the curve of your spine, the light pooling into the hollows of your collarbones. he watched with quiet fixation, eyes moving from page to skin, jaw clenched in concentration, and everytime his pencil scratched against the paper, it’d sent a phantom shiver down your spine.

he made you feel beautiful.

you hadn’t realized you were making a mistake.

not until tonight, when he’d left for his night class and you were rummaging behind his desk in search of your charger, the one you always forgot in his room. you’d been reaching behind a pile of books and folders when your elbow bumped something, knocking it to the floor with a dull, soft thud.

a sketchbook.

black, unmarked, a little worn around the edges. it didn’t look important or any different from the others he always left lying around. you bent down without thinking, planning to toss it back where it came from.

but it had fallen open.

you froze. you told yourself you wouldn’t look, that it wasn’t yours to see.

and then you looked anyway.

curiosity, or something worse, pulled you toward the page.

and there you were.

not soft. not modest. not the dimly lit, “tasteful” pose you’d assumed he’d capture.

you were drawn sprawled out, every inch of you on display. legs spread wide, toes curling into fabric you recognized as your own sheets. your back arched off a pillow from your bed. one hand gripping the edge of the blanket. the other buried deep between your thighs. your face was flushed, lips parted, eyes hazy, mouth frozen in a moan that felt way too specific to be imagined.

and it was detailed. painfully so.

you could see the shading where sweat would gather. the tension in your calves. the wrinkle in your brow. your own hair drawn strand by strand, fanned out like a halo.

your stomach flipped. heat bloomed somewhere low and unsteady.

you turned the page, almost on instinct, heart already pounding.

there were more.

you on your knees, spine arched, wrists tucked behind your back. your head tilted at just the right angle to show off your throat, the delicate notch above your collarbone. the lingerie you wore last week— sheer lace cups, dainty silk bows, garters clipped to thigh-highs—recreated in uncanny, microscopic detail. every clasp, dimple in your skin, subtle ripple of imagined pleasure inked in with a hunger that felt… dangerous.

you stared at the pages, transfixed. breath caught somewhere in your chest, hands beginning to tremble. you hadn’t meant to look, hadn’t planned to turn the first page, let alone the second… but once you did, you couldn’t stop. every drawing felt intimate, obsessive, memorized. the way he rendered you with such aching precision—each curve of your body, every fold of lace, every imagined tremble of your thighs, made it nearly impossible to look away.

it was clear he hadn’t just sketched you from reference; he’d studied you, remembered you. poured hours into capturing the parting of your mouth when you sigh, the subtle shift of your hips in that particular set of lingerie, the way your body folds, stretches, and exists on the page, alive and familiar.

you were still staring when you heard the jingle of his keys at the door. your heart clenched instantly, breath stuttering as you snapped upright, hands suddenly clammy and slick with heat. your thighs instinctively pressed together before you could stop yourself. there was panic, yes, caught red-handed with something you were never meant to see— but tangled beneath it, humming in your veins like a low, slow current, was something far darker. not dread or guilt. something warmer. hungrier. the realization bloomed slowly and thickly at the back of your throat, and you swallowed it down like a secret; what you felt wasn’t entirely fear. it was want.

the door clicks open behind you, followed by the soft creak of the hinge, the muted scuff of sneakers hitting hardwood, and some more indistinct shuffling near the entryway as he drops his things. hyunjin steps inside, expression dulled with exhaustion, shoulders loose, hoodie slipping off one side of his frame. he moves like he always does after a long day— quiet, fluid, like he’s still half inside his head.

until he sees what’s in your lap.

his sketchbook.

his secret.

you.

he halts mid-step.

for a second, he doesn’t say anything. no words, no movement, not even a blink. his eyes trace the shape of the moleskin cover, the way your fingers are curled around the edge of a page, your gaze is wide and locked onto his, like you’ve been caught doing something unspeakable. maybe, because you have.

but the reaction you expect never comes. there’s no stammering apology, flustered excuses, desperate attempt at backpedaling or some pathetic plea to forget what you saw.

instead, he smiles.

and it’s not the kind of nervous, sheepish grin you might’ve imagined if this moment had played out in your head. no. it’s something far more sinister. cooler. slow-spreading and deeply smug, as if this was inevitable and he’s known all along.

“you weren’t supposed to see that,” he says, voice low and smooth, like he’s just commenting on the weather.

he walks toward you with the kind of unhurried confidence that makes your throat go instantly dry, his footsteps soft against the floorboards, eyes never leaving yours. he stops just in front you where you’re still frozen, sketchbook heavy in your hands, heart beating loud enough to feel it in your teeth.

“but…”

his head tilts slightly as he crouches in front of you, long fingers curling over the edge of the cushion near your knee. the shift in posture shouldn’t feel as intimate as it does, but it roots you in place. he’s close— close enough that you can see the faint flecks of lead still dusted on his fingertips, the faint ink smudge on the side of his hand, the crescent of dried eraser shavings caught beneath his nail.

“…since you have…”

his voice dips even lower now, almost playful. like he’s testing you and he knows you’re too curious to say no.

“do you wanna see the rest?”

you shouldn’t.

you really, really shouldn’t.

but you nod.

and something in him clicks.

he reaches for the book, knuckles brushing your thigh as he takes it gently from your lap. doesn’t ask again or give you time to second-guess. just shifts his weight to sit beside you, so close your knees bump, and flips to the next page with the ease of someone completely unashamed.

the next drawing makes your breath catch.

you— on your stomach, wrists bound above your head with a ribbon that trails off the page. your thighs are spread wide open, panties pushed to the side, one heel still hooked halfway off your foot. you can see your expression sketched in detail, mouth parted, brows drawn tight, eyes looking up with something caught between desperation and bliss.

he turns another page.

this one’s rougher. messier lines, heavier shading. you’re riding something, someone, but only the vague silhouette of a figure is visible beneath you. the focus is all on your body. the way your tits bounce. the tremble in your thighs. the glint of a tongue drawn wet and flicking out from behind your lips. your head is thrown back, hair wild, and between your legs— slick. so much slick. rendered in obsessive strokes that make you shiver.

you blink. “hyunjin, what the fuck—”

“what?” he says lightly, not even looking at you. “it’s art.”

he’s already on the next page.

you reach for it instinctively, trying to stop him, but he only laughs, quiet and amused, and tilts the book slightly so you can see better.

“thought you wanted to see the rest.”

your stomach twists. “how many are there?”

“depends,” he shrugs. “just the ones of you?”

you freeze.

he turns another page. this one’s so filthy your face burns.

you’re gagging on something thick, your hands gripping at the base, tears drawn in delicate lines down your cheeks. your mascara is smudged. your spit is dripping off your chin. there are notes in the margin, little technical observations. ‘make angle of throat curve more exaggerated,’ ‘adjust hand position,’ ‘redraw drool line thicker.’

you glance at him, stunned, but he’s completely calm. flipping through pages like this is the normal shit ever and he’s showing off a vacation album, not a growing collection of depraved, hyper-detailed hentai of you.

“why..” your voice cracks, and you clear your throat. “why me?”

he finally looks at you then.

really looks.

there’s no hesitation in his face. no shame. just a flicker of something deep and unwavering.

“you said yes,” he says simply. “you stood in front of me in that stupid lace and let me stare. what did you think i was gonna do? draw a fucking fruit bowl?”

“i thought it was for your portfolio—”

“it is,” he says, smiling again. “you’re the whole thing.”

you swallow hard. “you should’ve told me.”

he laughs, dry and low.

“would you have still posed?”

you don’t answer. because you don’t know.

he proceeds to turn another page.

this time, you’re bent over the kitchen counter in this one. there’s cum dripping down your thighs.

“you didn’t tell me to stop,” he says softly.

your pulse jumps. “i didn’t know what you were doing.”

“you never asked.”

the silence stretches.

he flips another page. then another. each sketch more obscene than the last. erotic positions you’ve never even imagined. angles that make your skin burn. and he narrates them all with a kind of detached pride, fingers gliding over each line like he’s showing off fine china.

“this one took me all night,” he murmurs, turning the book slightly so you can see the details. “couldn’t get the way your mouth stretches quite right. ended up using a mirror.”

“jesus,” you whisper, barely able to look away. “hyunjin, you’re insane.”

he grins, leaning closer. “and you let me draw you.”

his voice is low. warm. full of something dangerous.

“so what does that make you?”

you don’t answer.

you literally can’t.

because you’re still staring at the next page, and your thighs are pressing together before you even realize it.

+

it’s hard to say who came onto who first.

whether it was you, him, or the invisible thread between you finally pulled taut and snapped— you aren’t sure. but the sketchbook lands somewhere on the floor long forgotten, and then hyunjin’s hands are suddenly on your thighs, warm and steady. the next thing you know, you’re pressed into the mattress of his bed, his body hovering close, like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

you’re still breathing hard, dizzy from everything you saw. your body’s betraying you, flushed and prickled with heat, and he sees it. god, he sees everything.

his voice is low, right beside your ear. “you’re still looking at me like i’ve done something wrong.” his thumbs press lightly into the soft flesh just above your knees, parting them further until your legs fall open around him. “but you haven’t said stop.”

you should. you could. your lips fall open like you want to say something, but the words never physically come out.

he chuckles.

“that’s what i thought.”

his fingers trail up your bare thigh with an artist’s touch, slow and reverent, tracing invisible lines like he’s mentally drafting his next sketch. his eyes never stray, just stays locked on your face. not your lips, not your chest, but your eyes— studying every twitch and flicker as if he’s trying to memorize how your shame turns into arousal.

and fuck, it’s working…

“do you know,” he says, almost idly, as though it’s just casual conversation. “how many nights i’ve spent drawing you from memory?”

his hand slides higher, dips beneath the hem of your shorts, brushes against the dampened fabric of your panties. his smile sharpens.

“you always wear the cutest little things. i couldn’t help it.”

you choke on your breath when he presses the heel of his palm against your cunt. not enough to relieve anything, but enough to remind you who’s touching you. who’s seen you like this, over and over again, in his head and on paper and in every single fucked-up sketch you were too horrified, and too curious, to stop looking at.

he leans in, mouth grazing the shell of your ear.

“you don’t know what it’s like,” he murmurs, “to spend hours perfecting the way your lips wrap around something thick. or the way your thighs shake when you’re close. i studied that. every twitch. every fold. every drip.”

his tone darkens, the words clinging to you like sweat.

“and it still wasn’t enough.”

he pulls back to look at you, fingers still nestled between your legs, his hand heavy and possessive like he owns what he drew— and maybe he does. he always has.

“you wanna know the real reason i never bring anyone home?”

you blink, mind hazy. “what?”

he slides your panties to the side with maddening precision, but his fingers stay light, barely ghosting over your folds.

“because i didn’t need anyone else.”

you whimper when the pad of his middle finger circles your clit, featherlight and cruel.

“i had you.”

a slow exhale leaves your chest, shaky and broken, and he watches you unravel, patient and quiet, savoring it the way someone might linger on the best part of a page.

then he kisses you without warning.

his mouth is soft at first, almost deceptively gentle. but the moment you lean into it and give in, he deepens it, tongue sliding over yours with the same practiced hunger he puts into his art. he kisses the way he draws: greedy, precise, a little filthy.

your hands fist into his hoodie, and he grins against your lips.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you taste better than i imagined.”

he pushes his fingers deeper between your folds, finally giving you the pressure you need. your hips jolt, a whine slipping from your throat, and that’s when you feel it.

his other hand has moved to your wrist.

he’s guiding it down.

and, fuck, he’s so hard.

you palm him through his sweats, wide-eyed and breathless, and he shudders, grinding into your touch shamelessly.

“you did this,” he says through a clenched jaw. “you and your fucking poses and that look on your face like you didn’t know what you were doing to me.” his hand moves with more purpose now, two fingers pressing inside you slow and deep while his thumb rubs tight, messy circles against your clit. he groans when you clench around him.

“this tight already?” he whispers, nose brushing yours. “and i haven’t even started drawing tonight.”

you try to reply— something, anything— but all that comes out is a pathetic, broken litttle moan.

he smirks, biting your bottom lip.