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s1rawb3rry · 19 hours ago

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Out of my Hands!

Synopsis: In the high-pressure world of motorsport, an engineer and her star driver at Ferrari fall into a connection as electric as the circuits they race on. But when one mistake on his part threatens to fracture everything between them — on and off the track — the race isn’t just for championship, it’s for redemption as well…

Pairing: F1driver!enhypen jay x engineer!reader

Genres: “second chance” romance, established relationship, forced proximity, F1 driver AU (?)

Warnings: jungwon mention lol, possible F1 racing inaccuracies, sun (jay) x moon (y/n), sub!jay x dom!yn, contains smut (mdni), is actually v smut heavy lmao i used this as an excuse to write subby jay (i love him sm), smut with plot, rom com if you squint, happy ending i pinky promise, angst-smut-fluff (in that order), body worshipping to the fucking max, fucking a closet, oral (f!rec), hes a munchhhh, hes v stupid but v adorable, jay is so unbelievably in love, yn is a little mean tbh sorry (not sorry), will probably add more

Word count: 7.6k

a/n: here's the little request from my anon hehe i hope you like it hun <3 just a reminder for all my girliesss it's unacceptable for your partner to forget your anniversary! This is pure fiction!

Taglist: @seungsoftly @xylatox @orxngebloods @yooonjnng @jaehoodies @hoonieyun @heesmiles @hoonsluvr @flowerwinds @cunty4hee @bambieheeseunglee @luvashli @eczlipse @sunnygirl-kait @leehsngs @enhaeil @bxcndd @firstclassjaylee @sumsumtingz @heekolazz @amazzwon @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @hazelira @princesslenars @heestoleurgirl @stariekis @morganaawriterr @luvashli @heekolazz (comment if you want me to add / remove you from the list <3)

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Two days.

That’s how long it had been since I last spoke to him, not a single word. Just silence — sharp and deliberate, the kind that crackled louder than any screaming engine. The smothered quietness was louder than any fight we’d ever had. And yet, duty calls — making us stand in the same garage, breathe the same air, surrounded by the same chaos that usually held us together. But this time, everything was unraveling faster than he could hold it together.

The Ferrari garage buzzed with preparation for the Monaco Grand Prix. The hum of telemetry monitors was constantly glowing with live delta updates, ‘+0.156 vs. previous lap’ blinked on screens with clinical precision. Other engineers around me murmured about tire temps and brake wear.

“The front-left’s still running hot, Y/N,” one of the newer engineers reported, eyes flicking between the tablet in his hands and the tire data streaming across the screen. You could hear the respect in his tone, but also that nervous edge — the kind that comes with not quite knowing if you’re allowed to speak yet.

“Mm, I see it,” I said, already scanning the heat map on my own monitor. The wear pattern wasn’t dramatic, but the temperature spike had been creeping session by session. “We’ll swap compounds for FP3,” I added, calm but decisive. “Harder mix should stabilize temps, and I want the pressures adjusted by half a psi.”

He nodded quickly, already tapping in the update as the mechanics rolled out tire trolleys and the metallic clatter echoed off the concrete walls. The chaos of the usual pre-race rhythm filled the garage — sharp, fast, alive. It was the soundtrack of our lives, something that usually settled in the bones like second nature. But today, it pressed down heavier, as if even the noise knew something was off.

I kept my usual composed self — steady, measured, always perfectly in control.” Which is the exact opposite of the storm brewing inside Jay, who stood a few meters away, shifting on his feet while being suited up in red. But I could feel his gaze, I always could.

His arms were crossed over his chest like he was holding himself together with the tension and friction alone. I knew it hurt him to see me speak to others like everything is normal but not utter a word to him. The reigning world champion, the golden boy of Formula One — millions in sponsorship deals and beloved by fans — is completely helpless.

The low hum of monitors and the muted chatter of engineers, mechanics and technicians filled the garage — numbers updating in real time, tire compounds being swapped, heat maps pulsing across displays. The sharp scent of hot rubber and engine oil hung in the air. And still, none of it seemed to register with him. Not the car. Not the lap deltas. Not even the swarm of cameras lingering by the paddock entrance, hoping to catch his shiny-boy smile. They’d get nothing either way because he wasn’t really present with them. He was somewhere inside himself, unraveling slowly, quietly. And I knew exactly why.

Because I hadn’t said a word to him in forty-eight hours.

I could feel his stare occasionally, lingering like static on my skin, but I didn’t turn. My eyes stayed glued to the downforce distribution map in front of me, fingers casually adjusting the torque simulation overlay, just going through the motions like I wasn’t breaking my own heart.

If I looked at him, I’d remember every part of him I still ached for — like the way his smile would start slowly, tugging at the corner of his mouth before blooming fully, blinding and boyish. How he always leaned into me just a little when we talked, like his body couldn’t help but reach for mine. And the way his hands trembled after a race, adrenaline still spilling out of him — only ever steady once they were wrapped around me.

We met a year ago, when I was first assigned to his vehicle design team — a technical partnership on paper, a set of credentials matched to a championship-winning driver. It was straightforward and professional. But from the moment he walked into the garage, there was an unmistakable pull that was almost like gravity. He’d saunter in with that trademark charm, all easy smiles and too-pretty eyes. I admired how he has a habit of pushing his car, and himself, to the edge of physics. Even if it made me want to strangle him half the time.

It shouldn’t have worked — but it did. We work perfectly together.

What we have isn’t a secret, just privately ours. Away from the cameras, away from the paddock politics and sponsor demands. Jay was always careful with it, with me. Always made sure I never felt like a footnote in the shadow of his spotlight. Even when the weight of being the reigning world champion began to bear down on him — every appearance, every test run, every simulator hour — I never doubted he cared.

However, caring wasn’t the same as remembering. And on the night of our first anniversary, he didn’t.

We’d just wrapped a grueling 14-hour prep session — final calibration meetings, last-minute aero tweaks, and endless briefings. His world was racing, tunnel-visioned, every second accounted for in his pursuit of perfection. I knew the weight he carried. Knew how much pressure came with defending a world title. I’d seen it in the lines beneath his eyes, in the way his fingers twitched against his thighs even when he was still.

So I told myself I understood, that I do not expect much. But when I walked into the garage that night of our anniversary, still smelling faintly of burnt rubber and carbon fiber, and saw him bent over data sheets, not even glancing up — I knew.

He forgot. No flowers. No message. Nothing. Nada.

And when he found out by himself that he forgot — there were no tears, no dramatic exit, no slammed doors. It was like he hadn’t noticed he was walking on a tightrope until it snapped. He stood there stripped of the easy polish he wore like a second skin, and asked — softly, earnestly — if there was any way to make it right.

However, it wasn’t only the feeling of disappointment I felt, but also the weight of being invisible in the one place I thought I never would be. He remembered tire pressures and compound cycles and brake bias down to the decimal — yet somehow, not this.

I just told him I needed space. And when I said it, I watched his whole face change — He looked gutted. Like the words knocked the breath right out of him. His voice cracked when he asked, “How much?”

“I don’t know yet.” i responded. I meant to sound firm, but I'm not sure if I conveyed that. The silence wasn’t out of spite of him or as a punishment. But because I didn’t want to shrink myself to fit into the background of his life. Not when I’d stood by him, through every pit stop and podium.

He didn’t try to argue or try to talk me out of it. He just nodded slowly, like he was trying to respect my words even as they cut him open.

And I was trying. God, I was trying — gritting my teeth, white-knuckling the line I’d drawn, even though every part of me was screaming to step over it. Every shift of his boots on the concrete, every sigh from his chest, chipped away at my resolve.

Every fiber of me was aching to reach for him. I missed the way he’d find me in the chaos of the garage, eyes soft even when his voice was sharp from that driver’s rush like I intensively calmed him. The way his fingers used to find mine under the briefing table, brushing knuckles in quiet touches when the room was too loud with strategy calls and tire compound debates. I even missed that smug little whisper he’d drop when he leaned in just close enough — pretending to fuss with his earpiece during the final checks, but really just looking for an excuse to be near me. Just low enough so no one else caught it, his voice thick with that familiar tease, “still my favorite shade on you.”

It was ridiculous, really. Didn’t matter what lipstick I wore that day — scarlet, berry, nude — I could swear he had a different favorite every morning. And those quick, almost impatient kisses he’d press against me before striding out to the grid, always with that faint smudge of my lipstick still teasing the corners of his mouth.

But I reminded myself: I was the one who asked for this space, I had to honor that.

“Jay, it's time.” The call came sharp and sudden over the radio: Jay was needed for a test run. The garage suddenly shifted — tires rolled, tools clattered, and the hum of anticipation filled the air. The team moved with practiced precision, but the chatter… it was different today.

Everyone noticed immediately. Two days without a single word between Jay and I was an unspoken record. They knew how we usually were — quiet smiles, casual touches, the kind of softness that didn’t need announcing. So this silence? It spoke volumes. They weren’t subtle about putting two and two together.

“Hey,” one of the engineers — Jungwon, always the first to break tension — leaned over, glancing my way as he wiped grease off his hands. “Is he… okay?” He asked, referring to Jay.

I met his eyes briefly, then turned back to the screen in front of me. “He’ll be fine,” I said, voice steady and flat, though inside I was anything but.

Jungwon nodded slowly, unconvinced but trusting. “It’s just… two days? That’s new for him.”

The telemetry graph overhead flickered with live data again — sector times, tire temps, brake wear. Numbers, curves, pulses of color that painted a perfect picture. But none of it matched with what we were seeing, because no matter how precise the car was running, Jay’s driving was the real glitch in the system.

“Bring the car in for pit lane after the run,” I said to the team, eyes still on the telemetry, “i want to do some tweaks.” I lied, the car is fucking perfect. However, with no hesitation, they all gave me small nods.

He loves me, I know and believe that. Truly, maddeningly, desperately in love. From the moment we met, it was like his heart found a home and decided mine was it. Without me he's all noise and no direction — like a car with no grip, spinning in the same corner over and over again. He’s a puddle in my hands, always was. And in these past two days, I’ve felt every quiet attempt he made to reach me, I can read him like a book. I see it in the way he stands too long near the telemetry table where I’m working. I catch the way his hand twitches toward mine before he remembers. Or the way he leans in out of pure instinct when we pass too closely.

Jay, the reigning champion, the media darling, Ferrari’s golden boy — reduced to a man struggling to remember how to breathe without me reminding him.

And yet, he never pushes.

Every morning, my coffee has been sitting on my station before I arrive. Just the way I like it — two sugars, no lid, sleeve already on. Whenever I step out of my hotel room or get back at night, there’s a fresh bouquet waiting outside my door — peonies, or roses, or marigolds, or tulips. Wrapped neatly with the team’s garage tape. All these gestures never had a note or a name or anything, but I didn't need it to know who they were from.

He never knocked at the door either, but his actions — conscious or subconscious — spoke how he felt. The guilt bleeds off him, he wears it in the slump of his shoulders when I walk past. In the way his fingers tighten around his gloves like there’s something else he wants to hold. In every look he shoots me when he thinks I’m not watching, eyes full of ache and apology and that quiet ‘please’ that he never says out loud but I hear anyway.

Jay pulled the car into pit lane with a smoothness that, to the untrained eye, might’ve looked fine. But to us — to the team that knew his driving like gospel — it was obvious something was off. He unstrapped himself with methodical hands, slower than usual, and stepped out of the cockpit, fireproof gloves already tugged halfway off as he handed his helmet to one of the mechanics.

His race suit clung to him, streaked in sweat and dust from the circuit. Normally, after a run, he’d have that boyish glint in his eye, shoulders loose, lip curled in a smug half-smile as he asked about throttle trace and corner exit velocity.

But today he looked like a man dragging his heart behind him.

“Jay,” one of the technical directors called out as he approached. “What’s up, son?” the director asked, slapping a hand gently to Jay’s back as they started walking toward the engineering bay. “You’re lifting too early. Car’s fine — hell, it’s better than fine. But you look like you’re driving through a fog.”

Jay blinked, then shrugged with a tight-lipped expression. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. I could feel his eyes flick over to me before quickly darting away, like even looking in my direction burned.

Miserable didn’t even begin to cover how he looks.

-*-

That night, the garage was quieter than usual, the usual roar and chaos of the paddock fading into a low, distant hum, as if the whole world was exhaling after a long day. The faint scent of burnt rubber and engine oil clung stubbornly to the air, a reminder of the day’s relentless pace.

The heat of Monaco clung to the space like a thick, invisible blanket — heavy, stifling, and impossible to ignore. It pressed down on everything, curling into the edges of the garage, seeping into concrete walls and steel beams. I shifted in place, uncomfortable in my worn-in denim shorts that are sticking to my thighs with every move. The waistband dug just slightly as I leaned forward, a sheen of sweat gathering at the back of my knees.

Most of the team had already left or were wrapping up their own tasks elsewhere, but I stayed behind, focused on finishing up Jay’s gear prep. His equipment was a silent extension of him — every buckle, every clasp needed to be perfect. This was his armor, and I was the one tasked with ensuring it fit just right.

The HANS device still wasn’t quite where it needed to be, not by my standards. I set it down and glanced up as Jay lingered near the entrance, hesitant. “Jay,” I said quietly, almost commanding. “Come here. Let me check your HANS.”

When our eyes met, something flickered in him — hope, or maybe desperation. For a moment, he seemed to brighten up, like the mere act of me talking again was a small victory. But I was still a block of ice, my expression unreadable, carefully guarded.

He nodded without saying anything, and slowly setting his helmet somewhere. Strands of his dark hair clung damply to his forehead, plastered by the long hours under the sun and the strain of the test run. He lowered himself onto the stool in front of me without a word, his movements quiet.

He was still wearing his Nomex shirt which looked like it was painted onto him. The material clung to his body, damp with sweat, outlining every sharp line and sinew beneath. It hugged the swell of his chest, stretched over his shoulders, and clung to his biceps, the fabric pulled taut with every breath and subtle movement. The collar was tugged halfway down, exposing the clean slope of his throat.

As I leaned in to clip the device into place, my fingers brushed along the edge of his jaw — light, barely a whisper of contact, but electric all the same. The stubble there was coarse against my skin, familiar. It should’ve been a clinical motion, routine, muscle memory. His gaze locked with mine, eyes dark and searching, filled with something unguarded and raw.

“I miss you,” he said softly, voice barely more than a whisper. His lips trembled as they moved gently, pressing a tentative kiss to my wrist, then my palm. I didn’t speak at first. I just looked at him — really looked. The flushed pink in his cheeks from the heat or the yearning, I couldn’t tell. The way his eyes had gone heavy-lidded, hooded.

He looked wrecked. Needy. Not the Jay the cameras knew, not the star boy of the paddock — but mine. Just mine.

I slowly unclipped the HANS device and set it aside behind me with a deliberate click. The air between us buzzed, electric. I could feel the tension vibrating in his fingertips as they hovered just near my knee, waiting.

I leaned down slightly, voice low. “Show me, then.”

His breath caught, and before I could blink, his hands were at my waistband — unbuttoning my shorts with tentative, shaking fingers. He stripped them down in one smooth motion, panties sliding down with them to the garage floor, pooling around my ankles. Without hesitation, his hands smoothed up my thighs like prayer. Reverent. He kissed the inside of my knee, then higher, and higher still, each press of his mouth more devoted than the last.

“Tell me what to do,” he whispered against my skin, voice breaking like a vow. “I’ll do it. I’ll fix it. I swear.” I looked down at him — still kneeling, still in his sweat-drenched Nomex, chest heaving like he’d just finished a full race stint. But this? This was his real endurance.

His hands curled around the back of my thighs, placing them over his shoulders with that practiced ease, thumbs brushing reverently along the curve just under my hips. His head dipped, the collar of his Nomex shirt tugging just a little further down, sweat still glistening along his collarbones as he exhaled against my skin.

He traced my clit with his lips like he owed me something, “Fuck, I’ve missed you. Every part of you.”

I didn’t guide him, I didn’t have to. He recalls every soft spot, every sound that caught in my throat, every twitch of my fingers as they tugged in his hair — not tender, but possessive. Testing him. Tethering him.

“Jay,” I gasped, my voice barely recognizable as my own. He looked up at me through his lashes, lips wet and parted, swollen. “Don’t stop.”

His grip on my thighs tightened — not painful, no, never — but full of desperation, like letting go meant losing me all over again. Every movement of his mouth was frantic, like an apology written in tongue and breath.

When that heat coiled in my stomach and snapped, one of my hands flew behind me to brace against the workbench, the other buried itself in his hair, yanking just enough to make him groan against me.

He didn’t pull away. If anything, he pressed closer, as if the taste of me was his salvation.

When he finally pulled back, I could properly see those glassy eyes, faint sweat caught on his soft curls that clung to his forehead. But instead of leaving, he rested his head against my inner thigh, breathing hard, grounding himself like he needed the contact to keep from falling apart entirely.

My slick was still glistening on his chin, dripping slowly down his jawline. He made no move to wipe it away, too intoxicated by my taste to wipe it off. His eyes closed slowly like the world had finally gone quiet in his head.

A man of many talents, my Jay. Precision braking, top-speed control, knew how to make me come — except remembering dates, apparently.

- ᯓ -

The next morning arrived laden with humidity and tension, Monaco’s sun already spilling searing and merciless over the paddock before the engines had even started. I stood by the telemetry monitors, eyes trained on the scrolling data, but my attention kept wandering back to him.

Jay stood beside the car, half-listening to the race engineer walk through setup changes, nodding absently, helmet tucked under his arm. His race suit clung to him in the heat — red and branded, gleaming as usual — but his posture gave him away. There was a subtle stiffness in his shoulders, the way his jaw set rigidly.

In every post-breakup interview, every carefully worded press conference, I spotted the moment his fingers drifted up to tug gently at the curve of his ear. It’s a nervous tic he’d never quite managed to shake. He only did it when he was dodging something real — an uncomfortable truth, an emotional landmine, or just when reporters prodded a little too close to the subject of us.

‘You’ve had a stellar season, but are there any concerns heading into tomorrow’s race?’

‘You looked a little frustrated after FP2 — is there something off with the car or just track conditions?’

Tug.

‘You’ve always credited your inner circle for keeping you grounded. Everything alright mentally heading into this one?’

Tug.

I had watched it unfold on screen more times than I could count — his picture-perfect media-trained mask, every answer crisp, charming, noncommittal. But the nervous tug of his ear was his tell, the soft confession his mouth never made.

It didn’t fool me. It never had. I knew the difference between race nerves and something deeper. He was thinking about me, and he knew I noticed.

He was back in the garage after his morning media rounds and microphones shoved in his face, the sharp scent of heat and engine oil trailing faintly behind him, laced with just a hint of cologne clinging to the collar of his undershirt — one I recognized instantly. He moved through the space like someone half-present, greeting a few crew members with nods, polite but distant, eyes scanning out of instinct more than curiosity.

I didn’t look at him at first, I just did what I always did. I focused on the checklist in front of me, fingers moving over gear I could prep in my sleep. Torque specs, harness calibration, tire temps — all second nature by now. If I kept my hands busy, maybe the ache in my chest wouldn’t claw its way upward.

Around us, the team operated with quiet efficiency. A couple engineers moved toward the car, final checks being logged off with tight nods and murmured confirmations. One of the techs helped him shrug into his race suit fully and zipped it up, another crouched to help adjust the cuffs around his boots.

My hands moved on autopilot, finding his gloves on the workbench without needing to look or think. I folded them the way he liked: neatly, palms down, index fingers tucked in slightly, so they didn’t crease awkwardly when he slipped them on. The small reflex remained in my body, no matter how much I tried to unlearn it. It’s a habit stitched into my bones after months of doing it for him.

He stood there in front of me in full gear, helmet on, waiting. Not for the gloves. For something else — for the kiss.

It had started as a joke, once — something stupid and impulsive in the rush of his early podium days. I had leaned in and kissed the visor of his helmet before a race, laughing as my lipstick left a perfect red print over the clear polycarbonate. He won that race. And the next. And the next. And suddenly, it became a ritual — not a superstition, he’d insist, but something more sacred. “It’s not just the kiss,” he told me once, helmet already strapped beneath his chin, gloved hands resting against my waist. “It’s you. You win the races. I just drive.” He swore by it too, that faint kissprint above his line of sight calmed him, makes him focus, like he was already halfway to the checkered flag. He never raced without it.

Until now.

I handed him the gloves wordlessly, ignoring the way he tilted his helmeted head slightly forward like instinct. And when I brushed past him, his shoulders tensed because the kiss didn’t come. He froze and looked away like he could swallow down the sting.

“I can race without the kiss,” he said. “I just… don’t want to.” His voice cracked like worn leather.

Just then, the garage radio crackled to life, slicing the tension with mechanical precision: “Car 17, radio check.”

He blinked and turned slightly, fingers lifting to adjust his earpiece below the helmet. “Loud and clear,” he answered, but his voice was tight, strained. He gave a quick nod to the race engineer, murmured something clipped in return, and then turned on his heel, the movement precise but not relaxed like usual.

Honestly? After seeing him like this — so tormented, so stripped of that usual indestructible veneer, the one he wore so convincingly that even the cameras believed it — it did something to me, like a needle under my ribs. I had already forgiven him. Last night something cracked open in me, and the light had started to creep back in before I even realized it.

Seeing his restless hunger for my attention, still looking at me like I was the only way he remembered how to breathe… it poked at something low in my stomach. I could feel it coil every time his gaze flicked toward me, aching, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands unless they were on me.

And maybe that’s why I let it drag out a little longer. Just a little.

He made it too easy, like he couldn’t help himself. His body spoke volumes, louder than anything he’d said out loud. I wasn’t really being cruel… I just wanted to see how far I could push before he unraveled completely.

The pre-practice runs had already started, tires shrieking in bursts as Jay darted around the track — or tried to. I watched the monitors in silence, arms crossed, the sound of engines blending with the low hum of telemetry feeds.

“Telemetry is fine. Car is good,” one of the engineers mumbled beside me, his eyes narrowed at the stream of data pouring across the screen. His voice was clipped, laced with confusion. “But he’s still lifting too early, way too early.”

Another voice chimed in behind me, sharp and uneasy. “Throttle trace is inconsistent. He’s overthinking in sector two.” I’d seen this before — not often, because Jay was usually a machine behind the wheel. But when something emotional had its claws in him, it bled into everything.

“Driver feedback doesn’t match what we’re seeing,” someone muttered further down the pit wall. “He said brake bias is off—”

“But it’s not,” I cut in before I could stop myself, eyes fixed on the track display. “It’s him. Not the car.” No one argued back at me, they knew I was right. I knew my work was flawless.

A static crackle split through the comms: “Box, box, Jay. Let’s reset.”

A few more laps ticked by, each one dragging like an exhale held too long. The kind of silence that felt heavier than any noise — not because no one was speaking, but because everyone was waiting for something to snap back into place. But it didn’t. Jay was off. I could see it in the throttle curves, the braking points, the hesitation creeping into corners he used to crush. He wasn’t himself.

Then I heard his voice, faint and scratchy over the comms. “Coming in,” he said, just that, layered in a quiet kind of defeat that settled into my chest like weight. The static gave way to the overhead broadcast. The announcer’s voice cut through the background hum of the garage: “We’re on a 30-minute hold before second practice resumes.”

Jay pulled into the bay a few seconds later, the car rolling in clean but the atmosphere around him anything but. He was already wrestling off his gloves by the time the engine cooled — slow, mechanical movements like he wasn’t really present. His helmet was off, hanging from his hand, his hair matted to his forehead from the heat.

“What are you doing?” one of the assistant directors barked, arms flung wide in frustration. “The race is tomorrow, Jay. Tighten the fuck up.” but Jay didn’t flinch, just went to sit somewhere.

He wasn’t driving like the car was part of him anymore. He was second-guessing every movement, every intuitive knee and arm jerks that used to come without thinking. His mind was clouded, heavy, pulled somewhere else. To me.

And maybe the cruelest part wasn’t just knowing it — it was also knowing how easily I could fix it.

He sat on the edge of the bench beside the telemetry table, silent, water bottle in hand. His lips were parted slightly as he took small, unfocused sips, his eyes glued to the industrial fan spinning nearby like it might give him answers. But he just looked… hollowed out. Like someone had scooped the fire out of him and left the shell behind.

God.

Fuck.

Fine.

I let out a sharp exhale through my nose once I noticed how the team was too focused on whispered commentary and screen replays. “Jay,” I said, just loud enough for only him to hear. “I need your help with something. Now.”

He blinked slowly, stunned, like his brain couldn’t quite catch up with my words fast enough. But something flickered and rushed in, filled the space behind his eyes, and before he could think too hard about it, he stood and followed me without a word. Just like a lost kitten.

I led him down the narrow hallway, the hum of the garage fading with every step. We passed racks of spare parts and stacks of unused tires wrapped in warming blankets, the faint ticking of cooling engines echoing through the stillness.

I knew the sound of his footsteps behind me — cautious but eager, like he wasn’t sure if he was walking into forgiveness or fire.

The storage room door creaked slightly when I pushed it open. I stepped inside, the dim light flickering overhead like it, too, was unsure of what this was. He followed me in, breath hitching when the door clicked shut behind us.

“Y/N…” he started, voice rough and uncertain. I turned slowly, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make his chest rise harder with the weight of it. “You really think I don’t know how you operate, Jay?” I asked, stepping into his space. I was close enough now to feel the heat radiating off him, see the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Just one more push to his buttons. Just one more time.

I tilted my head just slightly, lips brushing his — not quite kissing, just grazing. Enough to make him chase it. “You drive like shit when you’re heartbroken,” I breathed against his mouth.

That did it for him, his hands that were already on me tightened their grip. A quiet groan escaped his throat when his lips crashed against mine in something too messy to be called a kiss.

His hands were everywhere — roaming like he couldn’t decide which part of me he missed more. One palm flattened over the curve of my lower back, while the other gripped my hip with bruising certainty. He squeezed my ass like he was trying to re-memorize the skin he already knew by heart.

Clothes peeled away fast, forgotten. His hand palmed its way between us to pull at the waistband of my shorts, rough from haste. My back arched against the wall with a moan from me once his cock sank into me. His fingers dug in, dragging me down harder onto him with every thrust.

I gasped as his other hand slipped beneath my thigh, hooking under my knee and hauling my leg up, opening me wider for him. The shift had me taking him deeper, impossibly so. “God, you feel so—” he choked out, voice unraveling into a groan.

He moved his pelvis like he couldn’t stand the thought of space between us. Every roll of his hips, every bruising grip, every trembling inhale was a silent plea.

His fingers laced through mine, lifting them to his lips mid-thrust like he couldn’t stop himself. “You steady my fire,” he murmured, his mouth warm and shaking slightly against my knuckles. The way he looked at me made my breath catch. “You know that, right?”

I swallowed hard, a sound catching in my throat as his hips pressed deeper into mine. I couldn’t answer — not with words — just a soft whimper and the way my legs tightened around him in response, pulling him impossibly closer.

He drank in every sound I made like it was water after drought, his lips ghosting down my jaw, over my shoulder, anchoring himself in the softness I tried so hard not to show him anymore.

I couldn’t think, barely holding on to a single coherent thought as he moved against me. Every part of me felt stretched tight, strung up in the kind of tension that hummed just under the skin, raw and unrelenting.

Jay wasn’t being gentle. No, he was desperate with it — like he needed to feel every inch of me to stay grounded.

The pressure coiled low in my stomach, slow and burning white-hot. It was too much and not enough all at once. My breath hitched as my nails dug into the back of his shoulder. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, chasing something just out of reach. And still, he was murmuring things under his breath — words I couldn’t quite catch, but felt more than heard.

Heat shattered through me, sharp and overwhelming, like a wave crashing over every nerve ending. My breath was caught between a gasp and a moan as I came around him, my muscles clenched tight and then shuddered.

His breathing was still uneven, chest pressing firmly against mine as we stood locked together. My fingers traced slow, wandering circles along the tense muscles of his back, feeling the heat and pulse beneath my touch.

A moment or two passed when then it just bubbled up in me — a laugh. Small at first, then unstoppable. I buried my face in his shoulder, trying to suppress but can’t quite manage.

Jay shifted slightly, lifting his head just enough to glance down at me, confused and a little alarmed. “What’s so funny?” he asked, voice still rough around the edges, hair a total mess.

I bit my lip, still grinning. “I forgave you like… maybe ten bouquets ago.”

His brows furrowed. “Wait, what?” he blinked, trying to do the math. “You’re kidding.”

I shook my head, still laughing. He let out a breath that was half a laugh, half an exhale of disbelief. “Oh, you’re evil,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to my shoulder with a groan. “Cruel, evil woman.”

- ᯓ -

I was late. Of all fucking days to be running behind, today of all days — the race day.

The roads to the circuit felt like they stretched on forever, endless. Every red light taunting me, every delay was a reminder of how close I was to miss the beginning. My heart pounded as I dashed through the chaos of the paddock, adrenaline mixing with a creeping panic. Every second wasted was another second I wasn’t at the track, wasn’t with him. My phone buzzed — phone calls and messages — none from him. What he didn’t know, and couldn’t know, was that I was racing against time just to get there.

I barely caught my breath as I rounded the corner into the paddock, the thrum of engines and radio chatter crashing over me like a wave. I nearly tripped over the edge of my own boots, one hand steadying myself on the garage frame as I spotted Jungwon adjusting his headset.

He turned, brows lifting in surprise. “You made it,” he said, pushing his mic aside. “He’s already in the car. They’re rolling him out.”

My heart jumped, a mix of guilt and adrenaline pulsing through me. “Can I watch from the track?” I blurted. “I mean — pit side. Not from the monitors. I want to see him… really see him.”

Jungwon tilted his head. “You mean instead of the garage feed?”

“Yeah,” I nodded quickly, fingers twitching at my side. I’ve watched every lap of his from behind a screen. Every corner, every throttle trace, every sector split. But I don’t want to see him through data right now. I want to see him, live.

He studied me for a second, then gave a short nod toward the track edge. “Go. You’ve got two minutes before lights out.”

I thanked him under my breath and jogged toward the barrier that edged the pit lane. My lanyard flipped in the wind behind me, chest rising and falling too fast as the distant red blur of Jay’s car rolled into formation.

The moment his car rolled into view, a loud wave of sound exploded from the stands. The roar of his name wasn’t just noise; it was devotion, hundreds of voices rising all at once like a war cry for their champion. I felt it deep, the way the energy cracked through the air and wrapped around the track. They loved him, adored him. And as the scarlet flash of his livery passed, I could swear he soaked it in like fuel.

The lights went out, and with it, everything else in my head did too. The race started with the world narrowing to the sound of engines screaming down the straight, tires clawing at asphalt, and that flash of red — his red — slicing through the chaos. I watched him push, fight, every inch of the track a battleground for more than just speed.

Every corner he took with the kind of hunger that couldn’t be engineered. He was relentless, dancing that dangerous edge between brilliance and madness. And as the final laps blurred past, I realized I hadn’t unclenched my hands in minutes.

Then, just like that — it was over.

The finish line came fast, sudden and final. The scoreboard lit up a second later, and the numbers punched the air out of my lungs, flashing the impossible results that no one expected: a tie.

Meaning there was one more round. One more chance.

My chest tightened the moment I saw him. Helmet off, fire suit unzipped halfway, sweat clinging to the curve of his jaw — he looked utterly wrung out. His eyes scanned the paddock like he was searching for something he couldn’t name. Like he was still racing, even after the car had stopped.

He sipped from a water bottle someone handed him, barely swallowing before pushing it away. The crew buzzed around him, adjusting things, calling out data — but he barely registered them. I could see it in the way he stood, like his body was here, but his mind was miles away.

He didn’t know I was here yet.

Until I stepped into his line of sight. His shoulders dropped, like some invisible anchor had finally been cut loose. Relief hit him so hard, he stumbled toward me without thinking — like instinct, like gravity.

“Hey,” I whispered, catching him as his arms wrapped around me tight.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in like I was the only clean air he’d had all day. I stroked the back of his head, gently, grounding him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here before the first round,” I murmured against his hair. “I got caught up, the traffic — everything. I was late. I didn’t mean to—”

“Shhh...” His voice was hoarse but sure. “You’re here now. That’s all I care about.” He pulled back just enough to look at me, soft eyes flickering.

Then someone called out from the other end of the paddock — “Jay, you're up. Let’s go, round two!”

He sighed, long and quiet, as he adjusted the strap of his helmet. I could tell that he wasn’t entirely ready to walk away, but he was about to with seconds ticking against his chest.

“Wait,” I whispered as I reached out, lightly touching his arm.

He paused mid-step, turned back toward me. Even though I couldn’t see his face through the tinted visor, I knew him well enough to feel the way his breath caught. That slight hesitation in his stance, the tilt of his head — like muscle memory pulling him back to me.

I stepped in close and lifted myself just enough to lean in, lips pressing against the visor in a kiss — right where my lipstick always left its mark. “Be safe,” I murmured, letting the words settle between us. “And win.”

He didn’t speak, just a firm nod, then his gloved hand found mine and gave it a gentle squeeze, like a silent ��thank you’. Then he jogged off toward the car, his steps lighter — like he’d just been handed something back, like a reborn man.

I watched him leave — not as his engineer, not as a strategist or teammate — but as someone who knew the rhythm of his breath better than telemetry ever could. My chest felt tight again, like my heart was being held between two trembling hands, trembling with awe, with nerves and with love tucked in the space between every beat.

I’d made my way back to the viewing area, blending in with the sea of spectators. Just one among thousands, waiting for that light to go out. The countdown felt like it echoed inside me.

Three.

Two.

One.

The start lights disappeared again for the last time today, and the roar of the engines came back. His car launched forward, surging like it had been waiting to be unleashed, finally. The corners he took now are done with surgical precision, every overtake like a challenge flung down and answered without mercy, every sector time had my heart climbing higher into my head.

He wasn’t just fast, he was fierce. Clean lines. Ruthless moves. This wasn’t just him racing — this is him alive in that car, completely himself again.

Each lap was a war of nerves. Each sector bled seconds. When the checkered flag waved and dropped, it was like the entire circuit inhaled at once.

He won.

For a second, I didn’t hear the explosion of cheers around me. It was like I’d gone under, submerged in disbelief and wonder. I was still watching the scoreboard, hands over my mouth, eyes wide. Then the noise came rushing in all at once like a wave of sound. Applause, shouting, all strangers around me screamed his name and I smiled through my shock, hands still pressed to my lips.

Somehow, I knew what he believed with every fiber of his being that the kiss — that little touch of lipstick on his visor — had something to do with it.

The cameras cut to parc fermé, but he didn’t go to the others. He didn’t even look toward the podium gates. With his helmet in hand, freeing his wild hair, gloves forgotten, Jay ran.

He bolted straight past the team, past the press, past the sea of microphones and congratulations, the kind that usually dragged him in. He didn’t stop, he didn’t even hesitate. He made for the barrier like it was the only thing keeping him from breathing.

Then — he leapt over the pit wall.

Security shouted, startled. A few mechanics turned in confusion. But I saw him, eyes locked on mine like he’d never looked away. The world blurred around us.

He reached me in seconds, arms crashing around my waist, lifting me off my feet with the full weight of everything he’d held in. And when he buried his face in my shoulder, it wasn’t just relief — it was release.

“Don’t ever make me race without the kiss again,” he choked out, breath coming fast, smile blooming with that stupid, boy-ish recklessness I’d fallen for in the first place.

His earpiece was still buzzing: “Box for podium protocol, Jay. Jay? Jay — where the hell did he go?”

I laughed, half-shaking, half-melting into him. My hands slid into his sweat-damp hair, curling around the base of his neck, pulling him back just enough to look him in the eyes. “You don’t need luck,” I whispered.

He smiled, forehead resting against mine, sweat-slick and beaming, his eyes shining. “Yeah,” he breathed, “you’re right. I don’t need luck.” His lips brushed against mine, soft and sure, “I need you.”

258 notes · View notes

liuhsng · 2 days ago

Text

─────⋆˚࿔ ⋆ off the record ( sjy ! ) — part 1

✩ˎˊ˗ enhypen masterlist

⤷ pairing — jake x fem!reader

⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ word count — 18.3k ⤷ based on this request by an anon ⤷ permanent taglist — open !

⤷ a/n — hi loves ! i’m so sorry for disappearing for a whole week, i was super sick and needed the rest, but i’m finally back and bringing you a jake fic to (hopefully) make up for it. i hope you enjoy this one, and yes there will be a part two 🤍

⤷ warnings — mild!smut (minors dni), fingering, thigh-grabbing, praise kink, lots of kissing, idol au, secret relationship, established relationship trope, idol!jake, idol!reader, possessive!jake, clingy!jake, overprotective!jake, a little toxic communication, hurt/comfort, couple fights (mild), skinship, fluff, angst

✩ˎˊ˗ summary — as idols under the same label, dating was never in the plans. but somehow, you and jake made it work—quiet glances behind cameras, shared vans after stage lights dim, promises whispered like secrets, and a love soft enough to survive even the harshest arguments. you’ve been his for two years. jake, yours even longer. and maybe he’s patient, maybe he’s understanding—but jealousy doesn’t care about contracts. not when you’re on screen with someone else. not when he can’t even hold your hand in public. or, where jake sim loves you in the dark but dreams of the day he won’t have to.

The dressing room smelled like setting spray and strawberry hair mist, the air thick with the sounds of curling irons hissing, bracelets clinking, and music softly playing from someone’s phone in the background.

You sat in front of the vanity, elbows resting on the edge of the table, posture straight but nerves bubbling quietly under your skin.

Your bangs were clipped to the sides, little butterfly pins holding them back as your makeup artist leaned in, adding the final touch to your eye look—a fine dusting of silvery glitter that made your eyes shimmer every time you blinked.

“Close for me, love,” the makeup artist murmured gently, her voice warm as she brushed the glitter across your lid. You did as told, letting her work as your hairstylist continued curling the last few strands of your hair behind you, humming along to the instrumental playing in the background.

Your phone buzzed faintly in your lap, and you glanced down at it, thumbing through the short monologue you were supposed to say before the group’s special stage started.

“We’re so honored to welcome you back to Music Bank…” you mouthed quietly, blinking at the words, barely noticing the way your white dress fluttered every time you moved—a doll-like piece with puffed sleeves, cinched waist, and a subtle shimmer that caught the light.

It looked like something from a fairytale. It felt like something out of a dream.

Chaewon appeared in the mirror’s reflection behind you, arms crossed with a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Our (Y/N) is so pretty,” she said proudly, voice filled with genuine affection.

You turned your head slightly, blinking in surprise. “What? Unnie, no—don’t start—”

“I’m serious!” she cut you off, stepping closer to pat your shoulder. “You look like a human perfume ad.”

From the couch, Eunchae gasped through a mouthful of sushi, turning to Yunjin beside her. “Visual unnie behavior,” she declared dramatically. “She’s not even trying!”

Yunjin snorted. “I’ve been saying it! Give her a crown already.”

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks as the makeup artist chuckled, grabbing a tube of gloss.

“I agree with them,” she said, holding your chin gently. “Now don’t talk for a second, pretty girl.”

She applied the gloss with delicate precision, layering it over your lips until they looked like they were dipped in honey. The soft, glossy sheen caught the light perfectly.

“There,” she said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “Stage-ready and stunning.”

You smiled shyly, eyes flicking between your reflection and your members behind you, who were all now staring at you like proud older sisters.

“I haven’t even said my lines yet,” you mumbled.

“You don’t need to,” Yunjin grinned. “They’re already gonna fall for you the second the camera pans.”

“I second that,” Eunchae chimed, holding up her chopsticks like a mic. “On god.”

Just then, Sakura stepped into frame beside Chaewon, eyes widening as she looked at you through the mirror.

“Wah,” she gasped, clasping her hands together like she was seeing a fairy come to life. “Our (Y/N) is glowing!”

The door creaked open again—and in walked Kazuha, still pulling off her practice hoodie, a water bottle in hand. Her eyes flicked across the room and landed on you, then widened with a teasing smirk as she pointed your way.

“Oh wow,” she said, dramatically fanning herself. “This is so far from your usual bed hair and oversized hoodie combo at the dorms.”

“Leave me alone,” you laughed, leaning forward on the vanity as the hairstylist curled another piece of hair. “I’m delicate today.”

“I’m just saying,” Kazuha chuckled as she sat on the armrest beside Yunjin. “This right here is idol (Y/N). Dorm (Y/N) wears mismatched socks and drinks banana milk at 2 a.m.”

“Cut the cameras,” you said immediately, turning to the filming staff quietly documenting everything behind you. You pointed at the camcorder and pleaded, “Cut this part out, please. I have a reputation to uphold.”

The PD behind the camera just laughed, offering a thumbs-up but clearly still recording.

You gave them a sheepish look as you turned back to the mirror, just in time for your hairstylist to unclip the last butterfly pin from your bangs.

She gently combed them into place, letting the strands fall to frame your face perfectly—soft and effortless, the kind of look that took three people and an hour to make look ‘natural.’

“There,” she smiled, stepping back and admiring her work. “Gorgeous.”

The makeup artist returned for one last touch, gently brushing the final sweep of highlighter across the high point of your cheekbone. “Okay, (Y/N),” she said with a wink. “You’re good to go.”

You gave them both a grateful nod, voice soft. “Thank you, unnie.”

They smiled and moved on to the next member as the glam team cleared out around you, leaving you alone at the vanity.

The lights lining the mirror still glowed warmly, casting a soft halo around your figure. Your fingers found your script again, thumbing the screen as you read through the line for what felt like the hundredth time.

You exhaled, finger hovering over the power button to finally shut it off.

But before you could press it—Buzz.

A new notification blinked at the top of your screen.

jakey jakey 🐶🤎 [2:05 P.M.]: done getting ready yet, baby? they’re calling us to line up soon for the next round

Your heart stuttered.

The corner of your lips lifted automatically, even as you glanced around to make sure no one was looking over your shoulder. You dimmed your screen brightness a little, thumbs quickly moving over the keyboard.

you [2:05 P.M.]: yeah… just finished 😵‍💫 how’d u know?

The reply came almost immediately, like he’d been waiting for it.

jakey jakey 🐶🤎 [2:06 P.M.]: i just know, that’s how good of a boyfriend i am 😌

You bit down on your smile, feeling it creep up faster than you could stop it.

Even now—after months of hidden calls, late-night snack runs, and quietly stolen glances across music show hallways—it still didn’t feel real. That he was real.

That Jake—Sim Jaeyun, your Jaeyun—was texting you like this. Calling you baby. Checking in like you were the only person that mattered in the world.

How you’d managed to pull one of the top rising boy group members in the industry was still beyond you.

It made no sense.

You weren’t the ‘it girl.’ Or at least, you never felt like one.

People had started calling you that lately—“the next It Girl,” some even comparing you to IVE’s Wonyoung in fan posts and industry articles.

And every time you saw it, your face would flush red as you waved it off, denying it before the words could even sink in.

You were just… you.

Just someone who happened to get picked. Who stumbled through monthly evaluations and somehow got slotted into the final debut lineup, something you still chalked up to pure luck.

Your thoughts were swirling, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your skirt when your phone buzzed again—snapping you back to the present.

jakey jakey 🐶🤎 [2:07 P.M.]: come see me for a bit?

You stared at the screen, your thumb hesitating just above the keyboard.

You had to line up soon. Cameras were already rolling. Stylists were scrambling for last-minute touch-ups. You shouldn’t.

You were just about to type out a soft “maybe after filming” when another message popped up.

jakey jakey 🐶🤎 [2:07 P.M.]: just a few minutes pls 😭 promise i won’t get you in trouble

God, he could be so cute when he wanted to be.

Impossible to say no to.

Infuriatingly charming.

You chewed on your bottom lip before quickly typing back.

you [2:07 P.M.]: fine… where?

jakey jakey 🐶🤎 [2:07 P.M.]: 2nd floor, hallway near the stairs. no one ever comes there

You shut off your screen with a sigh, heart already starting to race as you glanced around the room. Sakura and Chaewon were distracted talking to the coordi-noonas about the next filming sequence, and Eunchae had her head tilted back on the couch, humming along to the music playing softly overhead.

Perfect.

You slipped your phone into your dress pocket and stood, smoothing your skirt and turning to your manager.

“Unnie, I’ll just use the bathroom real quick,” you said casually, flashing a quick smile.

She barely glanced up from her clipboard. “Make it fast, okay?”

“Yup!” You slipped out the door before anyone else could say anything, the soft clack of your heels echoing against the studio hallway floor as the door clicked shut behind you.

Your steps quickened slightly the closer you got to the stairs. You passed a few staff members on the way—some holding clipboards, others pushing racks of outfits for later stages—but no one paid you much attention. Just another idol going about their schedule.

When you reached the second floor, the hallway stretched out quiet and empty, dimmer than the main corridors, the buzz of activity replaced by a soft hum of overhead lights.

You turned the corner near the stairwell, and there—leaning casually against the wall in his white button-up shirt, a soft gray vest layered neatly over it, paired with crisp white pants—stood Jake.

His silver-dyed hair was styled to perfection, not a strand out of place, catching the hallway light just right like he walked straight off a photoshoot.

He looked up the second he heard your footsteps.

And smiled.

“Baby!”

He didn’t wait for you to reach him.

The second your eyes met, Jake pushed off the wall and closed the distance between you in just a few long strides, slipping his arms around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He pulled you into him without hesitation, swaying you just a little as he buried his face into your hair.

His hand splayed softly across the small of your back, the other curling gently near your ribs as he held you closer—closer than anyone was ever allowed to see.

You felt his chest rise and fall against yours as he let out a quiet breath, the kind that always made your heart flutter.

His nose nudged your temple as he murmured, “God, you smell like strawberries. I missed you.”

You let out a breathy laugh, arms finding their way around his shoulders as you melted into him. “You saw me literally five hours ago.”

“Five too long,” he mumbled, voice low and warm as it vibrated against your cheek.

You pulled back slightly to look at him, but he didn’t let you go far—his hands still snug around your waist, keeping you close like he was scared you’d vanish.

When your eyes finally met, Jake was already looking at you.

He was staring—like you’d hung the stars yourself and forgot to mention it. That boyish, smile spread across his face, eyes sparkling in the soft hallway light.

“Wow,” he whispered, blinking like he couldn’t believe you were real. “You look…”

You raised a brow, playfully. “What?”

“Unreal.” He shook his head slowly, grin widening. “I’m serious, (Y/N). You look like a dream. Like…” He paused, then laughed softly. “I don’t know, like if a doll and a goddess had a baby and it became a K-pop idol.”

You burst out laughing, lightly smacking his arm. “That is such a weird compliment.”

Jake leaned in, the grin on his face softening just a little as he let his forehead gently rest against yours.

The hallway was quiet, the faint hum of distant chatter fading behind closed doors. It was just the two of you—breathing the same space.

You were suddenly so grateful your stylist had given you heels today. For once, you weren’t craning your neck to meet him.

“I mean it,” he whispered, his breath fanning over your lips. “You look breathtaking.”

You flushed, lips twitching. “Stop teasing, Jaeyun.”

That made him smirk. “Oh? I’m Jaeyun now?” he teased, cocking his head slightly. “What happened to Jakey?”

You rolled your eyes, giggling as you playfully tried to shove him back. “Don’t make me block you in front of the cameras.”

He only laughed, catching your wrist gently and leaning in—pressing a soft, quick kiss to your lips. Barely there, but enough to make your stomach twist and your eyes flutter shut for half a second too long.

When you opened them again, he was already watching you with that look again.

The one that made you feel like nothing else in the world existed.

“Want me to show you just how breathtaking you are?” he murmured, voice lower now. Rougher. Dangerous in the way it made your knees feel a little weak.

You blinked, lips parting slightly. “Huh?”

Jake’s smile turned slow, boyish with a flicker of something not-so-innocent underneath. “Come here.”

Before you could react, he gently tugged you by the hand, leading you just a few steps farther down the hallway—toward a small, staff-only restroom tucked near the stairwell.

“Wait, what are you—”

Jake pushed open the door, glanced around once to make sure it was empty, then pulled you in with him, shutting it behind you.

The click of the lock sounded way louder than it should’ve.

You turned to him, breath caught in your throat, eyes wide. “Jake—”

He was already stepping toward you, slow and sure.

“I told you,” he murmured, eyes dragging over every inch of you, that gray vest still perfectly in place as he backed you gently against the cool tile wall. “You’re too pretty for your own good.”

Without warning, Jake crashed his lips to yours.

You barely had time to breathe before he was kissing you like he needed it—like he’d been holding back for too long, and now that he had you alone, there was no reason to pretend.

Your back met the cold wall with a soft thud as he pressed you against it, one arm snaking tightly around your waist, the other sliding up behind your head, fingers curling into your hair to keep you close.

Your lip gloss smeared instantly, not that he cared—if anything, he groaned softly at the taste of it.

You melted into him, your hands finding his neck, then sliding up into his silver-styled hair. Your fingertips brushed against the back of his nape, playing with the soft strands—and Jake smirked into the kiss like it drove him insane.

“Mmhm, baby…” he whispered between kisses, mouth barely parting from yours, “you always do that when you want me to lose it.”

You giggled, but it died in your throat the moment he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, nipping gently at your bottom lip.

He pulled away just enough to breathe, only to drag you in again—lips moving slower this time, more deliberate, more hungry.

Then his tongue traced your lower lip, slick and teasing.

You gasped softly.

Jake murmured low, voice dipped in heat, “Can I…?”

You barely nodded before parting your lips slightly, just enough—giving him access.

And the moment he had it, he kissed you deeper.

Tongue sliding against yours, slow and hot, your body flush against his as his hand traveled from your waist to your lower back, guiding you closer, keeping you there like he couldn’t get enough.

You whimpered into his mouth, fingers tightening in his hair as your knees weakened beneath you.

Jake broke away just slightly, panting softly against your lips, forehead resting against yours. “God, I missed this,” he whispered, his breath shaky. “Missed you.”

Your eyes fluttered open—barely.

“Jake…” you breathed, not knowing what you were asking for, but knowing you wanted.

But your voice broke slightly as you tried to pull yourself back to reality. “Jake—we can’t. We need to be on stage in a few minutes.”

He stilled for a beat, then leaned his forehead against yours again, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh. “I know,” he muttered, lips brushing yours, disappointed. “I know, baby.”

But then—he tilted his head and pressed a kiss to the curve of your jaw.

Then another. Just below your ear.

And another—down the slope of your neck, slow and hot.

You whimpered, your back arching slightly against the wall. “J-Jake…”

“Shh,” he whispered, mouth against your throat, his breath making your skin feel too hot, “Just a few more. Let me be annoying.”

“Don’t leave marks,” you warned between shaky breaths, already knowing how easily his lips could turn soft pinks into deep purples.

Jake chuckled against your skin, a deep, knowing sound. “You’re no fun, baby.”

Still, he listened.

His kisses stayed soft. Gentle. Featherlight brushes of affection along your pulse point, down to the dip of your collarbone, like he was memorizing every inch of you all over again—even with so little time.

One of his hands stayed planted firmly around your waist as the other wandered.

His fingers slid slowly down your side, finding the ruffled hem of your short white dress—the one that made him look at you like you were something from another world.

He played with the edge of it, toying at the frilly fabric. Then, dangerously slow, his hand traced along the hem of your safety shorts, knuckles brushing the soft skin of your thigh.

You gasped quietly, your hand flying up to grip his wrist.

“Jake—”

He looked up, his eyes hooded, lips swollen and glistening from your gloss, voice low and wrecked. “Tell me to stop.”

You couldn’t.

Instead, you pressed your forehead to his again, eyes closed, breath shaky.

“I hate you,” you mumbled breathlessly.

Jake smiled against your lips. “No you don’t.”

You barely had time to breathe before his hand drifted again—fingers grazing the hem of your safety shorts, teasing the edge with that same maddening slowness. You sucked in a breath, your hand gripping his arm.

“Jake,” you warned, voice barely a whisper, “you can’t start this if you’re not going to finish it.”

His lips ghosted over your cheek, nose brushing your jaw as he murmured, “Yeah? Try me.”

And then—with that cocky, devastating smile on his lips—his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts.

You gasped softly as he tugged them down just enough, letting them settle mid-thigh, leaving you exposed in the soft light. His touch was featherlight, dragging along the top of your thighs, then up—

Until his fingers traced the delicate band of your lacy underwear.

Jake paused and smirked.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, half-lidded and dark with amusement. “Who are you wearing this for, huh?”

Your breath hitched.

You tried to play it off, but your cheeks were already warm. “We… we do have a date after this, don’t we?”

Jake huffed a quiet laugh, dipping his head closer. “Oh,” he said, voice low and teasing, “so you were expecting something.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, hiding the way your body jolted at the heat in his tone. “Jake,” you gasped when his palm pressed gently against your core, “stop teasing…”

His hand stilled—just enough pressure to make your knees threaten to buckle. He exhaled through his nose, lips brushing your temple.

“I’m not teasing, baby,” he whispered, fingers curling slightly against you. “I’m getting you ready.”

You gasped, head falling back lightly against the tile wall, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his vest as his hand moved lower—confident, deliberate.

His touch slipped past the delicate lace, and when his fingers found your clit, he paused, humming low in his throat.

“So wet already?” he murmured, pressing a kiss just below your ear, his voice full of pride and want. “You’re really not gonna survive our date tonight, huh?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the whimper that bubbled in your throat as he began to move—his touch gliding slowly, maddeningly, up and down, with the kind of rhythm that made your legs tremble.

“J-Jake,” you breathed, clutching his shirt tighter, burying your face into his shoulder as your knees buckled just slightly.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, hand on your waist steadying you, lips brushing along your cheekbone between each breath. “Always got you.”

His fingers kept working, unrelenting, and just as your breathing hitched again, his other hand tilted your chin so he could see your face—so he could watch the way your lashes fluttered and your lips parted, soundless but pleading.

“Look at me,” he whispered. “I wanna see what I do to you.”

Your lashes fluttered open, eyes glazed with need, lips parted in a shaky breath as your gaze met his—and Jake swore, soft and low, like the sight of you completely undone was too much and not enough all at once.

His touch deepened, hand still steady at your waist as he leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to yours, trying to keep you grounded while your body trembled beneath his.

“You feel that?” he murmured, breath hitching as his fingers moved with devastating slowness. “That’s all you, baby. Just you falling apart for me.”

You let out a soft whimper, your hands tightening in his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric near his chest as your knees nearly gave out.

Jake’s free hand held you closer, thumb brushing tenderly along your cheek. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “So good for me. Always so good.”

You gasped his name again—barely a whisper on your lips.

He shushed you gently, kissing the corner of your mouth, his voice now low and urgent. “I know. I know. But you’ve got to keep quiet for me, yeah?”

You nodded desperately, lip caught between your teeth as your whole body burned in his arms.

Jake leaned in closer, lips brushing against your ear as he breathed, “I can’t wait to get you alone tonight. Really show you how much I missed you.”

And then—his hand moved again.

You sucked in a sharp breath, body jolting as his fingers found that spot deep inside you that made your thighs tremble. That made your breath catch and your vision blur. He knew it was there. Knew how to find it like second nature.

“Right there,” he whispered, voice thick with heat as he watched you unravel. “There it is, baby.”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t think.

All you could do was cling to him—hands gripping the front of his vest, forehead pressed to his shoulder, trying so hard to stay quiet even though your body screamed.

Jake pressed his lips to your temple, curling his fingers again—slow, precise, relentless.

Your knees buckled.

“Breathe for me,” he whispered, kissing just below your ear. “That’s it. Let go.”

You melted against him, gasping softly into the crook of his neck, your whole body trembling in his arms as he held you close, steady, protected.

For a moment, the world stopped. Just you, clinging to him, heart pounding, skin flushed, lungs searching for air.

Jake didn’t move right away.

He pressed soft kisses to your cheek, to your jaw, to your temple—fingers slipping away gently, carefully, as he helped you stand, your legs still weak.

He brought those same fingers to his mouth, lips parting as he slowly dragged his tongue across the tips, eyes never leaving yours.

“Sweet,” he murmured, voice all smoke and mischief. “Just like I remembered.”

You stared at him, still dazed, still catching your breath.

“Jake,” you whispered, eyes wide. “You’re insane.”

He grinned, fixing your dress back in place like nothing had happened. “Only for you.”

Before you could even fully recover, he leaned in and pressed one last kiss to your lips—slow and indulgent, like a reward. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second, but they flew open again the moment you tasted yourself on his mouth.

Your face flushed all over again.

“Jake—” you breathed, voice half-scandalized, half-melting.

He pulled away with that same infuriating smile, licking the corner of his lips just to mess with you. “What?” he teased, fixing the strand of your hair he’d messed up earlier. “Just making sure you remember how good you taste.”

You stared at him, mouth open, half-ready to fight him and kiss him again.

But he was already glancing toward the door, stepping back with a lazy stretch. “Come on, baby,” he said, voice low and playful.

“We need to go. You still have to interview our group in a few minutes, yeah?”

You groaned, letting your head fall dramatically against his chest. “I hate you.”

He laughed, arms wrapping around you for a second, like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. “No, you don’t.”

You pouted, pulling away just enough to give him a playful punch to the chest. “I can’t look at you on camera after this.”

“You’re gonna have to,” Jake grinned. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Maybe.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t test me.”

He winked as he unlocked the door. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

But as he stepped out into the hallway first, head down, hand casually brushing against yours for a split second, you knew one thing for sure:

This boy was going to drive you insane today.

There were only a few seconds left before the red light on the camera blinked to life.

You stood beside Jungwon, fidgeting slightly with the cue card in your hand, your mind half-focused on the line you were supposed to read, and half still floating somewhere in that hallway where Jake had—

“(Y/N)-noona,” Jungwon said softly, nudging your elbow, “don’t be so nervous.”

You blinked, snapped back to the present, looking down at the young leader beside you.

He smiled up at you earnestly, shifting a little in his crisp white outfit. “Can I call you noona?” he asked, wide-eyed and sweet.

You laughed—grateful for the distraction. “Of course you can, Jungwon. You’re too cute not to.”

His grin widened as he straightened up beside you, clearly pleased.

Across the small, softly lit interview space, you heard someone burst into laughter. Your head turned just in time to see Jisung from NCT—your co-MC for today—pointing at a wild strand of Heeseung’s hair that stuck up despite all the hairspray in the world.

“Bro, how are you one of the the visuals and still end up looking like a coconut?” Jisung teased.

Heeseung swatted at him with a smile, adjusting his mic pack as the crew giggled behind the cameras.

Your eyes drifted slightly to the left.

Jake was leaning casually against the wall with his hands in his pockets, face glowing under the soft studio lights—his silver hair still styled to perfection, though his lips twitched upward the second your gazes met.

You gave him the smallest smile back, heart doing somersaults inside your chest, cheeks still slightly warm from earlier.

Beside you, Jungwon glanced between the two of you, raising a brow. “Is it just me,” he said under his breath, “or does hyung look like he knows something I don’t?”

You gave him the smallest smile back, heart doing somersaults inside your chest, cheeks still slightly warm from earlier.

The red light on the camera blinked on.

“Three,” the PD whispered from behind the lens, “two… one…”

The red light blinked on.

You and Jungwon straightened at once, microphones lifted, smiles flashing effortlessly into place.

“This is Live Broadcasting Music Bank,” you both said in sync, your voices clear and bright.

You turned slightly toward the boys in front of you, your cue card still trembling just a little in your hands.

“With Jisung and me, (Y/N),” you continued smoothly, “yes! Congratulations on your comeback, ENHYPEN!”

Behind the camera, staff clapped along as the seven boys bowed slightly, clapping and smiling as cheers erupted from them.

“Thank you!” they chimed in together.

Jisung, beside you, laughed. “Look at them—they’re glowing. Seriously. Like, did you all eat fairy dust before coming here?”

That earned a few chuckles, especially from Sunghoon and Ni-ki who immediately started whispering something to each other off-mic.

Jungwon stepped up confidently, smile wide as he lifted his mic again. “Allow us to say hi,” he said with the poise of someone born for it. “One, two—”

The members immediately followed his lead.

“Connect! Annyeonghaseyo, ENHYPEN-imnida!” they chorused, bowing in unison with practiced energy.

You nodded with a grin, trying very hard not to let your eyes drift back to Jake—who, for the record, still had that soft smile on his lips. The one that made your stomach twist far too warmly for a live broadcast.

Before the moment could linger any longer, Jisung cleared his throat loudly and stepped into frame, dramatically walking over to where you and Jungwon were standing.

“Knock knock,” he said, knocking his knuckles on the air beside your shoulder. “Excuse me, but it looks like you guys are having fun without me.”

The crew laughed behind the cameras, and a few of the ENHYPEN members chuckled too—Sunoo even letting out a dramatic gasp like Jisung had just uncovered a betrayal.

You turned with an apologetic smile, falling easily into the teasing banter. “Ah, I’m sorry, Jisung-ssi,” you said sweetly, bowing slightly. “It seems I forgot about my very handsome partner.”

The crowd oohed playfully.

Jisung tilted his head, feigning deep consideration before letting out a theatrical sigh. “It’s okay, (Y/N)-ssi. I’ll let you off the hook for your behavior—just this once. I mean, everyone is excited about ENHYPEN’s comeback.”

Then he grinned, cheeky and playful as ever. “Plus, it’s a good thing you’re cute.”

The room burst into another wave of laughter—crew members chuckling behind the camera, Sunoo letting out a soft “Yah,” while Ni-ki whistled dramatically.

Jisung gave you a playful nudge to the ribs with his elbow, causing you to giggle into the mic, momentarily hiding your face with the cue card.

“Jisung-ssi, you’re so unserious,” you laughed, voice light but a little breathless.

Somewhere behind the bright lights and staged smiles, Jake’s jaw flexed.

He kept the curve on his lips, nodding along to the banter like the good-natured idol he was supposed to be—but his eyes? His eyes flicked toward the script in your hands a little too sharply. He raised a brow, glancing at the cue card as if it had personally offended him.

Was it hot in here? Or was it just the slow boil of jealousy he was trying so hard to choke down?

‘She’s yours’, he told himself.

But logic was a lot less convincing when you were laughing like that because of someone else—even if it was innocent. Even if it was scripted.

You cleared your throat softly and turned back to the group, shifting your cue card into view. “Well then!” you said brightly, eyes sweeping toward ENHYPEN’s line.

“Let’s talk about your latest release. Could you tell us a little bit about your album?”

There was a half-beat of silence before Jake stepped forward, the mic already in hand, perfectly timed and poised.

“Our new album, ‘MANIFESTO: DAY 1’,” he began smoothly, “is kind of our declaration. It expresses our thoughts and how we want to move forward, break free from expectations, and really tell the world who we are.”

His voice was steady. His eyes were locked onto the camera.

But you knew Jake.

You knew every version of him—the way his dimples were deeper when the smile was real, the way his tone got a little softer when he was truly proud of something. The way he’d glance at you mid-sentence when he was feeling playful or confident.

But he wasn’t doing any of those things.

You stared a second too long. Long enough to wonder if maybe he was upset. Maybe because of Jisung? No—Jake wasn’t the petty type.

But you had seen that look before. Reserved. Slightly colder than usual. The type he gave when he was trying to bury something that was bubbling too close to the surface.

You were so caught in your thoughts you didn’t notice the shift until Sunoo, ever cheerful and poised, stepped slightly forward with his mic raised and a dazzling smile on his face.

“Among many tracks in the album,” he began, his voice light and confident, “there is our title song called ‘Future-Perfect (Pass the MIC).’”

The other members straightened slightly, nodding as Sunoo continued. “This song has a story that’s really meaningful to us. It’s about choosing our own path—keeping to our way and finding happiness in this chaotic world.”

He turned to the camera as he spoke, his smile full and genuine, expression bright. “We hope it gives strength to everyone listening. That it reminds you to take back your voice.”

A soft wave of cheers and approving nods followed from both the staff and the crew. Sunghoon even clapped once behind the mic, proud of how well Sunoo delivered it.

You smiled gently, eyes flicking to Sunoo with warmth—he always had such a natural way with words.

“Beautifully said, Sunoo-ssi,” you replied, voice as steady as you could manage, though your mind was still tugging at Jake’s unusual stillness. “It’s definitely a song that hits hard. I think a lot of people will find comfort in it.”

Jisung chimed in with a thumbs up, “No, seriously. I listened to it this morning and almost cried.”

That earned more laughter.

Sunghoon smiled as the laughter faded, stepping forward with that calm, composed tone of his. “Well said, Sunoo,” he nodded.

“Additionally, our powerful performance of this song is the main point to pay attention to,” he added, gaze steady on the camera. “We worked really hard on it. Please look forward to it.”

Then he turned to his left with a teasing smile. “Isn’t that right, Ni-ki?”

Ni-ki blinked, caught slightly off-guard. “Huh—oh!” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes, yes! Definitely. Please don’t miss out on our visuals,” he added with a cheeky grin, “which, I believe, have only become better and nicer.”

“Ah yes!” Jisung cut in dramatically, stepping a little closer to you. “Just like my partner here—who looks as radiant as a fairy today!”

You nearly choked on your laugh, quickly covering your mouth with the cue card as the staff giggled and someone behind the camera shouted, “Facts!”

You turned to Jisung with playful eyes, raising a brow. “What about you?” you teased. “You look like an absolute prince today.”

The boys from both groups chuckled, Ni-ki and Sunghoon even letting out exaggerated sighs.

“Please stop flirting on camera,” Sunoo joked, fanning himself with his hand. “Some of us are still single.”

The room erupted again, a wave of laughter bouncing off the walls as even the PD behind the camera chuckled.

Jake only smiled as he tilted his head ever so slightly, eyes flickering to Jisung, then to you, then back to the camera—as if he wasn’t very much thinking about the way Jisung leaned a little too close or how your laugh was a little too flustered.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, eyes flicking briefly toward the cue card you could barely focus on.

“Alright,” you said with a soft laugh, eyes back on the camera, “I’ll try not to forget you guys’ visuals on stage.”

Another round of light chuckles.

You lifted your mic again, flashing a bright smile. “Now, tell us about the next stage!”

Heeseung stepped forward, mic already in hand, posture easy and confident. “Enhypen’s stage, composed of a refreshing summer season song—‘TFW (That Feeling When)’—will be coming up soon.”

Then Jay followed up without missing a beat. “But before that,” he added smoothly, “let’s check out a fresh and cool comeback stage by Park Hyunseo.”

You and Jisung took two synchronized steps forward, standing center once again under the bright studio lights.

“This has been your pretty fairy, (Y/N),” you chirped sweetly, giving a small curtsy toward the camera.

“And your handsome fairy prince, Jisung,” he added with a playful bow, making the crew giggle again.

You both pointed to the camera and said in sync, “Music—cue!”

The studio lights dipped, and the camera panned smoothly away as the stage direction changed.

The second the red ‘LIVE’ light on the camera blinked off, signaling a cut—you could feel Jake’s stare land on you like a heatwave.

Almost immediately, the room shifted. The pressure of live broadcasting lifted, replaced with soft sighs of relief and congratulatory pats on the back.

Behind you, the boys cheered among themselves, voices overlapping.

“We survived!” Sunghoon grinned.

“Hyunseo’s up next, right?” Jay asked, already walking toward the back exit with a stylist trailing him.

You turned slightly, cue cards still in hand, just in time to catch Sunoo flashing you a bright thumbs up. “Good job, noona!” he beamed. “You looked really nice today!”

Your heart softened at his energy. You smiled back, bowing your head a little. “Thanks, Sunoo. You were amazing up there.”

Then came another voice—quieter, lower.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “Good job.”

You turned.

His voice was calm. But not warm.

He wasn’t looking at you like the others were—he wasn’t smiling with his eyes like he usually did. Instead, he was adjusting the mic pack clipped to the back of his vest, jaw tight as he looked at you just a moment too long.

Your smile faltered the tiniest bit.

“…Thanks,” you said slowly, eyes searching his face.

He didn’t say anything else.

Just turned to follow the others, giving a quiet nod to one of the stylists as they waved him toward the backstage hallway.

The other members began to trail behind, Ni-ki throwing his arm around Jungwon while Sunghoon laughed at something Jay said. It was noisy and light—except for Jake.

He walked slower.

Back straighter.

Like something was still buzzing under his skin.

You bit the inside of your cheek, cue cards still in your hand, heart thumping a little harder than before.

The night air hit different after hours under studio lights.

You sat on the edge of one of the cold metal benches near the building’s back exit, the area dimly lit by a single flickering lamp overhead.

Your legs, still bare from the knee down, pressed tightly together as you tried to conserve warmth. The white fluttery dress you wore for the broadcast looked like a dream under stage lighting—but out here, it clung to your skin like ice.

You curled in on yourself, rubbing your arms as you muttered under your breath, “God, why didn’t I bring a coat…”

Just minutes ago, your group’s manager and a few members had asked you, “Are you sure you’re not riding back with us?”

You shook your head with a smile, keeping your voice even. “It’s okay—I have someone from high school picking me up. Just a friend.”

Chaewon had raised a brow. “From high school?”

Eunchae tilted her head like a confused puppy. “Like… someone we know?”

You shook your head again, trying to sound breezy. “Nah, you guys wouldn’t know him. Just—he offered to drop me home, that’s all.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Yunjin squinted at you suspiciously. “You sure it’s not, like… your boy plus friend?”

You laughed, a little too quickly. “If it was, I’d be bragging. Swear.”

That made them laugh, eventually letting it go after your manager double-checked your drop-off point. “Text us when you get home,” she said firmly. “And take care. Seriously.”

“I will,” you promised. “Thanks, unnie.”

Now here you were—just waiting.

You let out a breath, watching it fog briefly in the cold air. The bench beneath you creaked softly as you moved, tugging your dress down even though it barely helped. You sat there, hugging your arms, debating whether to finally pull out your phone and text him when—

A sudden weight landed across your shoulders.

You turned, startled.

Jake stood right behind you, both hands gently adjusting the coat now draped over you—his coat. It smelled like him. Faint cologne, traces of mint, and the soft warmth of his skin embedded in the fabric.

His expression was unreadable. Not cold, but not his usual sunshine either. Tight-lipped, composed. “Let’s go,” he said quietly.

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the softness in his touch and the tension in his voice, but nodded anyway.

He didn’t say anything more. Just slipped one hand to the small of your back and gently guided you across the parking lot, toward one of the many identical black HYBE vans waiting along the curb.

His hand didn’t leave your back—not even once. Even when a few lingering staff passed by with cameras around their necks, he kept walking with you calmly, his pace steady and protective.

When you reached the van, Jake opened the door for you himself, greeting his manager with a simple, “Hyung.”

The older man looked up from his phone and gave you both a small smile. “Good job today, you two.”

You bowed your head politely as you climbed inside, brushing the hem of your dress down as best as you could before settling into the plush leather seats.

“Where to?” his manager asked, glancing at Jake.

Jake climbed in beside you, hand resting briefly on the door handle. “To our dorms,” he said shortly—his voice calm, but cold, leaving no room for negotiation.

Then, he pulled the door shut immediately, instinctively—like muscle memory after years of avoiding scandals and blurred camera flashes.

Just like that, the world outside disappeared.

The street noise, the freezing wind, the weight of being someone else’s image—all gone the moment the door sealed.

You leaned back into the seat with a quiet sigh, pulling Jake’s coat tighter around yourself as the heater hummed to life.

The leather seats were warm beneath your bare thighs, finally giving you a moment of comfort after hours under stage lights and cold air.

Jake sat beside you silently, one hand braced against the side panel as he looked out the darkened window. His jaw was clenched just slightly. You didn’t have to look to know.

You could feel it.

Still, despite the stiffness in the air, his other hand reached across your lap—not saying a word—and adjusted the seatbelt over your body gently before clicking it in place.

Then he sat back, both hands resting on his thighs. Silent.

You looked down at your lap, then back at him. “Jaeyun…”

He didn’t look at you.

Just knocked twice on the partition glass between you and the driver. “Hyung, can you raise it?”

His manager hummed in acknowledgment. “Mhm.”

The soft mechanical whir began, the glass slowly sliding up and sealing you both in the quietest, most private part of the van.

Once it clicked shut, you turned to face him again.

His expression was calm—but you knew him too well.

“…You’re upset,” you whispered.

Jake finally turned to you, his silver hair slightly tousled, that same tight-lipped smile still in place.

“Define upset,” he muttered.

Your brows furrowed at the coolness in his tone, your heart tugging just a little. But you didn’t push. Not now. Not when everything still felt this fragile.

You leaned back into the seat quietly, tucking yourself deeper into his coat, eyes focused on the dark blur of buildings passing through the tinted windows.

The silence was heavy. Louder than any words either of you could say.

Until Jake sighed—deep, long, from the chest.

His hand found your thigh, warm and grounding even through the layers of fabric, fingers splayed across your skin like he didn’t even realize he needed to touch you to breathe right.

His other hand dragged back through his hair, pushing it out of his face as he turned toward you fully.

“Look,” he started, voice lower now, rougher around the edges. “I’m not mad at you, okay?”

You turned your head just slightly, eyes flickering to him without fully meeting his gaze.

“I’m upset at myself.” His jaw clenched as he looked away again. “And probably Jisung. And maybe the damn scriptwriters.”

That pulled the corner of your lip up—just barely.

He laughed under his breath, tired and half-defeated. “God, I sound stupid.”

You shook your head, whispering, “No, you don’t.”

Jake looked at you again, and this time, his eyes softened. The frustration behind them melted into something quieter—regret, maybe. Longing. Love.

“I watched you laugh with him,” he admitted, fingers tightening slightly against your thigh. “And I know it’s a job. I know. But I couldn’t stop thinking—why wasn’t it me standing next to you?”

You blinked, stunned by how small his voice had gotten.

He smiled again, softer this time. “You’re wearing my coat, but I still feel like I don’t have enough of you.”

That’s when your heart cracked wide open.

You shifted in your seat, reaching up to brush your fingers lightly across his jaw. “Jaeyun, you already have all of me.”

Jake didn’t say anything right away, just leaned into your palm like it was the only thing keeping him sane in that moment. His hand came up, gently wrapping around yours as he held it between both of his.

“Sometimes…” he murmured, eyes locked on your fingers, “I wish other people knew.”

His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t even bitter. Just quietly aching.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wish I could hold your hand after a show. Pull you in after interviews. Take dumb pictures with you at the beach and not have to hide your face with a damn emoji.”

Your heart clenched.

Then—softly, sweetly—he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Then another. And another.

You didn’t speak, just leaned into his warmth as he scooted closer to you on the leather seat, closing what little space had remained between you.

He rested a hand on your thigh again, familiar and gentle, then leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

You sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “I know.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was full. Quiet. Safe.

His chin rested against the top of your head, the rhythm of his breathing slowly syncing with yours. One of your hands played with his fingers, tracing the lines in his palm, the subtle scar near his knuckle, the calluses he always pretended weren’t from dancing.

Then—your voice broke the stillness.

“So…” you said, lips quirking up just slightly. “How much did you pay your manager to not say anything about us?”

Jake laughed, the sound vibrating against your back as he pulled you even closer into his side. “What makes you think I had to pay him?”

You tilted your head up. “You didn’t?”

“Nah.” He grinned. “He trusts me not to mess up.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Big risk, honestly.”

Jake gasped dramatically. “Wow. Is that how low you think of me?”

You snorted, leaning into his chest. “Just honesty, baby.”

He chuckled, then went quiet for a moment. His hand moved again—this time to your waist, fingers curling just enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Then, with his cheek resting against your temple, he whispered,

“Stay for the night.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“I said,” he repeated, quieter, “stay tonight. At the dorms.”

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “Jake—”

He reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, voice soft but sure.

“They won’t be home until eleven,” he said. “They’re celebrating our win tonight—probably stuffing themselves with fried chicken and tteokbokki somewhere downtown.”

You blinked, brows raising. “And you’re not with them… why, exactly, Sim Jaeyun?”

Jake grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Because,” he said, scooting even closer, “I have to make it up to my girlfriend. Who I know misses me.”

You tried to stay annoyed—tried—but the smile broke through before you could stop it.

“Misses you?” you teased. “You’re that confident, huh?”

Jake leaned forward until your noses almost touched, his hand curling around your waist again.

“Baby,” he murmured, lips brushing yours. “You always miss me.”

You laughed, hand coming up to shove lightly at his chest. “Shut up.”

He caught your hand and kissed your knuckles. “So is that a yes?”

You gave him a mock-suspicious look. “You better not make me climb in through the window.”

Jake gasped. “What do you take me for? A criminal?”

“A very determined one,” you muttered under your breath, earning a snort from him.

You paused for a second, then nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll stay.”

Jake lit up like someone had just handed him a win bigger than any trophy. “Really?”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his silver hair.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just promise you won’t let me get caught. Or killed.”

“No promises on the second part,” he joked, helping you buckle your seatbelt again. “But the first? Swear on my next win.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re in love with me.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder as the van started moving again, whispering into the warm fabric of his shirt,

“Unfortunately.”

He grinned down at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Fortunately,” he corrected.

Jake was the first to unbuckle his seatbelt, already moving to slide the van door open before the car had even fully stopped.

“Come on, baby,” he said, holding a hand out for you.

You took it with a smile, hopping down carefully onto the pavement. “Thank you.”

He grinned, helping you steady yourself as you adjusted your short white dress and heels, his hand firm but warm in yours. You turned to bow slightly toward the driver’s seat.

“Thanks for today, manager-nim!”

Jake added, “Drive safe, hyung!”

The van rolled off the driveway and disappeared around the bend just as the two of you made your way up the steps of the dorm building.

The moment the door clicked open, you both instinctively slipped off your shoes, trying to make as little noise as possible.

You cradled your heels in one hand, Jake’s fingers still loosely linked with yours as he nudged the door closed behind him with his foot.

“Ugh,” you sighed in relief, flexing your toes once your feet touched the cool wooden floor. “I swear those heels are from the devil.”

Jake laughed quietly, reaching out to take them from you.

“Give me those, princess. You’ll twist an ankle just walking to my room.”

“Wow,” you blinked, lips twitching. “I didn’t know I was dating someone who cared so deeply about foot health.”

“You’re dating someone who wants you in one piece,” he quipped, and carefully set your heels near the door before shrugging off his coat and yours—hanging it neatly on the rack.

“Also,” he turned back to you with a cheeky glint in his eye, “who wants you to last long enough to go for round two later.”

“Jaeyun!” you hissed, smacking his arm playfully.

He laughed, that dimpled grin so blinding it made your heart lurch.

“What?” he said innocently, following you into the hallway. “Just saying.”

You didn’t reply—just threw him a look over your shoulder as you both passed the dimly lit living room, quiet except for the hum of the fridge.

“So?” Jake asked, nudging you lightly with his elbow. “What do you want for dinner, my lady?”

“I want,” you replied, pushing his arm playfully, “us to change first before we even think about dinner.”

Jake clicked his tongue but nodded. “Fair.”

He reached for the doorknob of his room, opening it for you like always, and you were immediately greeted by the faint hum of the air conditioner and a familiar, calming scent that drifted out with it—fresh linen, hints of vanilla, and something uniquely Jake.

You stepped in, letting your shoulders sag a little in relief, smiling when the cold air hit your skin. Jake walked over to the remote and clicked the aircon a notch higher.

“Better?” he asked, glancing back at you.

“Much.” You flopped down onto the edge of his bed, dress fanning out around your thighs. The mattress dipped beneath you as you leaned back on your hands, watching as he walked over to his closet.

“Have you been using those candles I gave you?” you asked casually, nose crinkling as you inhaled. “Smells like the linen one.”

Jake grinned. “Of course I’ve been using them.”

He pulled out a pair of white sweatpants and a black oversized shirt from the shelf—familiar pieces that smelled like home, and walked over, placing them gently on your lap. The shirt was soft and worn, the kind you always stole after practice or filming.

“Here. These should fit my fairy,” he teased, before holding up a separate set in his other hand for himself.

You looked down at the clothes with a soft smile. “Still using the lavender vanilla one too?”

Jake rolled his eyes affectionately as he turned toward his dresser. “Yeah. And Sunghoon keeps asking where I got them.”

You laughed. “Let me guess—you’re gatekeeping it?”

“Absolutely.” He pulled off his vest and tossed it into the laundry bin. “Told him I bought it at some random underground boutique in France.”

You snorted. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” he corrected smugly, tugging his shirt off and tossing it over the desk chair. “At keeping you to myself.”

Your heart stuttered at that—but the way he said it was so casual, so sure, like it wasn’t a confession but a truth carved in stone.

You bit your lip, clutching the soft shirt he gave you a little tighter.

“…Then I guess I’ll let you keep being the best,” you whispered.

Jake turned to look at you then—bare-chested, smile crooked, silver hair messy from undressing—and his gaze softened even more.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice quieter now.

You nodded.

He crossed the room to press a kiss to your temple, eyes closing for a second longer than usual.

“Then let me keep you for a long, long time,” he whispered.

You hummed lazily, lips brushing against the slope of his shoulder. “Mmm, you’re so cheesy.”

Jake laughed—soft and low—and pulled away just enough to finish changing, shrugging off his dress pants and swapping them out for a familiar pair of gray sweatpants that hung loose on his hips.

You watched him for a second, dazed and full of quiet admiration, before unzipping your own dress and letting the fabric slide down your frame.

You pulled his oversized black shirt over your head, its scent already calming you, and stepped into the white sweatpants he gave earlier—cool, soft, and warm all at once.

You sighed contentedly, fingers tugging the waistband up as you padded across the floor toward where Jake was now placing his rings gently back into a clear Tiffany & Co. display case near his dresser.

Without saying anything, you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, cheek resting against the bare skin of his back.

Jake paused, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Stealing my warmth already?” he teased.

“Mhm,” you mumbled. “And your rings.”

Jake let out a quiet chuckle, reaching for your hand as he gently slid the rings off your fingers one by one.

“These belong to me,” he said playfully, placing them into a small black velvet pouch and tying it shut with care.

“You do know I was just borrowing them,” you joked, watching as he turned around slowly, fingers reaching up to the heavy silver chain still clasped around your neck.

“Too heavy,” he murmured, his voice gentle, as he unhooked it and let it drop into his palm. “You’ll get a line.”

He reached next for your earrings, carefully removing each one before placing them on the tray near his nightstand.

“All done,” he said quietly.

You looked up at him and leaned in to press a soft, thankful kiss to his cheek.

Jake smiled. His eyes softened.

Then he grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle tug. “C’mon, pretty. Let’s wash up first before we even think about eating.”

He peeked out of the room like a spy in a movie, checking both sides of the hallway with unnecessary caution. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Jaeyun,” you giggled, tugging at his arm, “we literally have the place to ourselves. Calm down, Jakey.”

He snorted. “You never know. Heeseung-hyung has this weird habit of forgetting his wallet and coming back at the worst times.”

You rolled your eyes fondly as he led you to the bathroom, flicking the light on with one hand while still keeping the other loosely laced with yours.

The familiar space was already warm and a little foggy from earlier showers—soft light bouncing off the white tiles and mirror.

You opened one of the lower drawers to grab your wipes, while Jake reached for the cleanser and the matching bottle of serum you both liked to share—one he originally gatekept until you caught him using it behind your back.

“I still can’t believe you let me use this now,” you teased, tugging out a wipe and gently starting on your eye makeup.

Jake raised a brow. “Let you? I only let you because you caught me and guilted me into it with that cute pout.”

You grinned. “You love the pout.”

“…Unfortunately,” he muttered with a fake grumble, though the curve of his lips betrayed him.

After both of you finished wiping your makeup off, you leaned over the sink, pumping the cleanser into your hands and working it into a soft foam.

The cold water hit your skin as you washed in slow circles, only for you to suddenly pull back with a sharp, annoyed sigh.

Jake turned mid-serum application, worry flickering across his face. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to bring a hair tie,” you grumbled, blinking as a bit of foam ran dangerously close to your eyes.

Without missing a beat, Jake gently stepped behind you, lifting your hair and holding it back with one hand while his other rested lightly on your shoulder.

“There,” he murmured. “Pretty face, clear and safe.”

You peeked at him through the mirror, cheeks flushing. “Thanks, Jakey.”

“I accept tips,” he whispered cheekily, leaning down to press a kiss just behind your ear.

When you were both done—skin fresh, damp, and glowing—you padded out of the bathroom with matching oversized shirts and sweats, your hair in a lazy towel wrap and Jake’s slightly damp from rinsing.

You flopped down onto the plush couch in the living room, letting your limbs melt into the cushions as he turned on the TV.

Jake joined you a second later, slumping beside you with a soft groan.

“You act like we ran a marathon,” you said, giggling.

“We basically did,” he mumbled. “Hours of performing, pretending not to be jealous on live television, and acting like I’m not obsessed with my girlfriend? That’s a full-time job.”

You laughed, curling into his side as he grabbed the remote and scrolled through Netflix. “You’re dramatic.”

“And you love it,” he replied, draping an arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer.

You rested your head on his chest, smiling softly as the sound of your favorite show’s intro filled the room. Your legs tangled together without a second thought, his fingers lazily tracing shapes on your arm.

Then Jake shifted a little and pulled his phone from the pocket of his gray sweats, wordlessly offering it to you.

His eyes never left the TV screen as he scrolled through Netflix with the remote, looking for something the both of you could watch—something with minimal heartbreak and lots of food scenes, per your usual shared preference.

You took his phone with a tiny smile, unlocking it easily with your birthday—something he never changed, even when you teased him about how predictable it was.

Your smile widened at the homescreen.

It was a candid photo of you, holding Layla in your lap at his parents’ house back in Korea. Your hair was tied messily, and you were mid-laugh, Layla’s head tilted up as if smiling with you.

“You and Layla are tied for the love of my life,” and you’d almost dropped her from laughing too hard.

Your chest warmed as you opened the food delivery app and tapped in your usual go-tos: tteokbokki, kimchi jeon, kimbap, and some japchae. All comfort food, all your favorites. You placed the order with practiced ease before glancing over at him.

“Do you want me to cook some ramyeon, too?” you asked, thumb hovering over the app to cancel the last item if needed.

Jake looked over at you with a lazy, tired smile, still slouched on the couch. “If it’s not too much, yeah. Your ramen always tastes better than mine.”

You rolled your eyes fondly and leaned in to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “It’s never too much for you.”

He exhaled softly, watching you with a look in his eyes that felt like warm sunbeams filtering through sheer curtains.

His gaze followed you as you stood up and padded toward the kitchen in his oversized shirt and sweats, the towel from your hair now resting on your shoulders.

Jake shook his head slightly, that soft, smitten smile creeping up on his lips again as he muttered to himself, “I’m really lucky.”

He didn’t even realize he’d said it out loud.

From the kitchen, your voice floated back playfully, “I heard that, Jakey.”

He grinned, sinking deeper into the couch with a chuckle. “Yeah? Good.”

Heeseung sighed as he slipped his key into the dorm door, brows furrowing at the already unlocked knob.

“Seriously, Jaeyun…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “One day you’re gonna get us all robbed.”

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, the soft hum of the TV greeting him like background noise. A low-volume English movie was playing, the kind you’d only keep on if you weren’t really paying attention—comfort noise, more than anything. The apartment was dim, bathed in the glow of the television.

Behind him, the rest of the members began piling out of the black van, voices low and tired but still carrying the hum of post-performance energy.

“Thanks, hyung!” Sunoo chirped to their manager.

“We’ll wash up and crash soon,” Jungwon added with a nod, stretching his arms over his head.

“Finally,” Ni-ki groaned. “My feet are legally dead.”

Heeseung waved them in without looking. “Door’s already open. Guess someone forgot again.”

“Jake,” Jay muttered immediately. “Definitely Jake.”

The boys shuffled down the short hallway one by one as Heeseung veered off into the living room. His steps were slow, calm—until he caught sight of something that made him stop in his tracks.

The first thing he noticed were the empty plates. Neatly stacked and pushed aside on the coffee table. Two bowls—two—with traces of spicy ramen clinging to the sides. A small dipping tray with leftover tteokbokki sauce. And a blanket crumpled up near the floor.

That in itself wasn’t suspicious. Until—Heeseung did a double take.

There, curled up on the couch, was Jake. Nothing unusual, except the unmistakable figure curled up against him. Long hair splayed against his chest, smaller frame tucked into his side, legs tangled under the blanket.

Your figure.

Heeseung’s jaw dropped open. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Sunghoon yawned, stepping in behind him. “Hyung, why are you—”

“Shhh!” Heeseung threw an arm out to block him, still staring like he was witnessing a crime scene.

“What the hell?” Jay whispered, peering over his shoulder. “No way.”

Footsteps shuffled behind them as Jungwon finally caught up, Ni-ki at his side. The leader leaned in to see and froze.

“…I don’t know if I should be happy,” Jungwon whispered slowly, “or angry.”

Ni-ki blinked once, then twice. “What the f—”

“Language,” Jay muttered automatically, slapping a hand across Ni-ki’s chest.

Ni-ki raised both hands in surrender, lips pressed in a thin line. “Sorry. But seriously. What the hell.”

“Jesus,” Jungwon mumbled, clearly rethinking every single interaction he’d seen between the two of you over the past few months.

Sunoo peeked from behind the cluster of members, voice hushed and scandalized. “Is that really (Y/N)-noona?”

Sungoon rolled his eyes. “Do you know any other (Y/N)’s?”

“…Point made,” Sunoo muttered.

Heeseung, still standing stiffly near the couch, finally exhaled and bent down, motioning for Jay to help. “Come on. Let’s at least clean this mess before one of them wakes up and dies from embarrassment.”

Jay stepped forward wordlessly, carefully stacking the empty bowls while glancing nervously at Jake—who, despite the movement, didn’t budge.

Sunghoon led the others toward the kitchen, everyone walking on the balls of their feet like they were performing.

Jungwon clutched the fridge door like a lifeline, staring back toward the couch every few seconds with wide eyes.

He let out a long, almost silent sigh. “Well… there goes the no dating policy.”

Jay and Heeseung—now quietly rinsing the dishes in the sink, shared a glance.

Heeseung scoffed under his breath and mumbled, “Can’t believe Jake got a girlfriend before me.”

Jay snorted softly. “You? I’m more shocked he didn’t fumble it.”

Heeseung gave him a look.

Sungoon, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter beside Sunoo, chuckled into the back of his hand. “So,” he whispered to Jungwon, “what are we gonna do about this?”

Ni-ki popped his head over from where he was crouched behind the kitchen island. “Pray,” he deadpanned, “that Jungwon-hyung doesn’t kill Jake-hyung in the morning.”

Jungwon finally opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water just for something to hold. “In addition to that,” he muttered, eyes narrowed, “interrogate the two of them. Thoroughly.”

Heeseung let out a quiet breath, drying his hands on a nearby towel as he leaned against the counter. “Well… whatever happens tomorrow, they’re both adults,” he said simply, his voice calm but firm.

“And whatever happens, happens. We’re still one group either way.”

The room fell silent for a beat—quiet acceptance settling like dust in the air—as the others nodded.

Jay, now finished rinsing the last bowl, placed it gently into the drying rack and closed the dishwasher with a soft click. “He’s right,” he muttered. “We’d be idiots to make this a bigger deal than it is.”

Sunoo, standing beside him, hummed in agreement. “Still… I can’t believe it.” He rested his elbows on the counter, chin in his hand. “(Y/N)-noona’s so nice and pretty and cool—how the hell did Jake-hyung pull her?”

Sunghoon snorted from where he sat swinging his feet from the counter. “He probably whined his way into her heart.”

Jay laughed under his breath. “No, seriously, he must’ve begged.”

Ni-ki raised a brow. “Didn’t he used to say he wasn’t gonna date till his thirties?”

“Exactly,” Sunoo added, incredulous. “Now look at him. Cuddled up like a human-sized golden retriever.”

Jungwon, still holding his water bottle, glanced over his shoulder toward the living room again. His lips pressed together before he sighed for what felt like the tenth time that night.

“Alright,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Come on. Let’s clean ourselves up too.”

He made one last glance toward the couch—his leader instincts kicking in even now—watching Jake’s chest rise and fall in sync with yours.

The blanket had slipped a little, and your cheek was pressed against his collarbone, his arm protectively wrapped around you like he’d never learned how to let go.

Jungwon blinked, then turned away without a word and disappeared into the hallway toward the shared bathroom.

Jake stirred under the blanket with a low groan, his arms instinctively wrapping tighter around your waist as if to keep you glued to him. “Mmm… five more minutes,” he murmured sleepily, face nuzzling into your neck.

You blinked once—twice.

Sunlight was already pouring into the room from the slightly parted curtains, casting golden streaks over the wooden floors and across Jake’s bare arm.

The soft sizzle of something on a pan echoed in the quiet, paired with the sound of light humming and—

“—I’m just saying! I saw this clip last night of (Y/N)-noona saying she loves strawberries on pancakes, so I brought these!” Sunoo’s voice, cheerful and light, rang through the dorm as he held up a bowl full of washed strawberries.

You froze.

You lifted your head just slightly and—right there in the kitchen, plain as day, stood Jay flipping pancakes like a pro, while Sunoo babbled beside him like a happy fox with a mission.

You panicked internally, turning to Jake and whispering urgently, “Jake. Jake, wake up.”

“Mmf,” came the lazy reply.

You poked his side. “Jake, wake up. Now.”

He groaned again, brows furrowing in protest as he slowly opened his eyes. “Huh…? Wha—”

And then it hit him.

He blinked once—twice.

His eyes widened. “Wait. Morning?”

You nodded grimly.

He sat up so fast the blanket slipped from his shoulders, revealing his messy bed hair and oversized shirt. “Holy shit—”

“Language!” Jay called out from the kitchen, not even looking.

Jake whipped his head around. “They’re here?!”

“Have been,” you muttered, quickly fixing your hair and glancing down at your slightly wrinkled sweatpants. “We’re dead.”

Jay finally turned around from the stove, flipping another perfect pancake onto a plate, a smirk curling on his lips. “Nice of you two to finally wake up.”

Sunoo beamed as he placed the strawberries on the counter. “Good morning, lovebirds!”

Jake groaned and covered his face. “Kill me now.”

You elbowed him gently, cheeks red. “You promised to avoid scandals. This is not how you do it.”

Ni-ki popped out of his room at the exact worst time, a controller in each hand and bed hair still flattened on one side. “Yo, hyung, rematch now or you’re—”

He trailed off the second he saw you and Jake on the couch, eyes slowly widening in comedic horror. “Oh, hey.”

Behind him, Heeseung strolled out casually with a yawn, only to stop dead in his tracks, blinking at the sight in front of him. “…So it wasn’t a dream.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Sunghoon muttered, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel slung over his shoulder. He gave the two a deadpan glare. “Put the controllers down. We have a guest. Have some shame.”

Your face burned hotter than ever as you buried half your face into the couch pillow, praying for the leather cushions to open up and swallow you whole. The embarrassment was suffocating.

Jake sighed beside you, wiping a hand over his face and trying to contain his own grin. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” the rest of the guys chorused back—way too casual, way too smug.

Heeseung leaned against the hallway wall, arms crossed, sending Jake a pointed, knowing look like the older brother who knew exactly what went down. “Hope the ramen was worth it.”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Hyung,” he muttered under his breath, but he was already standing, fingers slipping around yours as he gently tugged you up from the couch. “C’mon. Let’s get you freshened up.”

You followed reluctantly, clutching the sleeves of your borrowed black shirt, whispering, “They all saw me. Oh my god, I’m never going to live this down.”

Jake let out a soft laugh, spinning to face you halfway down the hall, his hand still around yours. “Hey,” he said gently, “you look really cute in my clothes, for the record.”

You pouted, eyes still wide from humiliation. “Sim Jaeyun. I am suffering.”

He only grinned wider before tugging you into his arms, his chin resting atop your head. “You’ll survive, baby. Promise.”

“Are you sure?” you mumbled into his chest.

“Positive.” He kissed the crown of your head. “And if not… I’ll bribe Sunoo with skincare to never mention it again.”

You giggled despite yourself as he finally pulled you down the hall again, his thumb brushing your knuckles. “Now hurry,” he teased. “Before they start asking graphic questions.”

You gasped. “They wouldn’t.”

Jake snorted. “Oh, they would.”

And unfortunately, you knew he was absolutely right.

After a quick but cozy skincare session—him washing the foam off your cheeks with a towel while mumbling, “you missed a spot, baby,” and you dabbing toner on his face while he scrunched his nose—you finally took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door, bracing yourself.

As you stepped into the hallway together, Jake right at your side, the sound of chatter and the smell of pancakes still filled the dorm.

You barely made it three steps into the kitchen when you were immediately ambushed.

“Noona!”

Sunoo popped right in front of you, face lit up like a puppy that just saw a treat. “Good morning! I made extra strawberries because I heard you like them,” he beamed, holding up a plate already sliced perfectly into little hearts.

“Also—does that mud mask Jake hyung uses actually work? Because your skin is glowing right now and I need answers.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, heart melting at his sweet energy. “Sunoo, you’re seriously the cutest,” you giggled, letting him gently tug you toward the dining table like a proud little brother showing off. “And yes, it does work. I’ll make you a list later, okay?”

“Yes!” he cheered, pulling out a chair for you right beside him like a gentleman. “I’m gonna be flawless by next comeback.”

Jake watched from across the table, resting his chin on his palm, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

His eyes never left you—especially not as you teased Sunoo about the heart-shaped strawberries or pointed out a bit of whipped cream on the corner of his mouth.

“Someone’s soft,” Jay muttered from beside him, but Jake didn’t even deny it.

You glanced up for a second and met Jake’s gaze. He gave you a tiny wink.

“Alright,” Jungwon finally spoke, sitting at the table with his arms crossed and a suspicious smile tugging at his lips. “So… (Y/N)-noona, huh?”

Jake paused mid-chew.

The table went quiet, everyone turning to look at him like they were waiting for a big reveal on a drama show.

You felt your palms begin to sweat under the table as your gaze flickered toward Jungwon—the second youngest but also the most responsible. He sighed, running a hand through his slightly messy red hair, the weight of the silence pressing down on his shoulders.

“…Since when?” he finally asked, tone calm but serious.

You bit your lip, glancing at Jake who only gave you a small nod of reassurance before you turned back to Jungwon and quietly said,

“Almost seven months.”

The collective reaction was immediate.

“Seven months?!” Sunoo turned to you with wide eyes, nearly dropping his chopsticks. “That long?!”

“Wow,” Heeseung muttered from the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as a teasing grin tugged at his lips. “It’s that serious, huh?”

Jake didn’t hesitate.

“Well… yeah,” he said, setting down his fork as he leaned forward a bit, voice more sincere than ever. “She’s my first girlfriend and everything.”

You blinked at the weight of those words.

“Actually,” Jake added with a small, shy smile, “she’s already met my family.”

Ni-ki, who had been stuffing a strawberry into his mouth, paused mid-bite and turned. “Even Layla?”

You grinned, placing your chin in your palm. “Yeah. Even Layla.”

Jake beamed at the memory, clearly fond. “Layla liked her more than she likes me now. Traitor.”

The table laughed again, lighter this time, the tension slowly lifting.

“Well,” you added with a soft shrug, “he also met mine. So… fair game.”

Jay raised a brow. “Met the parents on both sides? Damn.”

Jake shrugged, a sheepish but genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Well… it was getting serious after the promos for the Dimension album,” he said, fiddling with the fork on his plate, eyes flicking up to yours for a second. “And I guess we just… decided to really commit from there.”

You looked at him, heart tugging a little at how sincere he still managed to sound—even surrounded by teasing members and leftover pancake crumbs. You gave him a small, knowing smile before turning your gaze back to the boys.

“And now I’m here,” you said lightly, gesturing to the dorm with an exaggerated flair. “In my sunbaenim’s dorm. How romantic.”

That made Jungwon actually laugh—like, full-on, head-thrown-back laugh that caught even him off guard. He set his drink down and wiped at his eyes.

“Oh, come on,” he chuckled, voice a little higher from amusement. “We bump into each other at HYBE all the time.”

You raised a brow, smirking. “That’s different than seeing me asleep next to your member in pajama pants, leader-nim.”

The table burst into laughter again.

“She got you there,” Sunghoon muttered, smirking behind his cup.

“Yeah,” Ni-ki added with a cackle, pointing between you and Jake. “Waking up to your hyung spooning a girl is wild.”

Jake groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, okay—can everyone stop visualizing it now?”

Sunoo burst out laughing, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Well, no more secrets from you, hyung. You need to share Noona now.”

Before you could even respond, the sunshine boy flung his arms around you in a warm hug.

You laughed, surprised but happy, returning the hug just as tightly. “Sunoo-yah, you’re such a baby,” you giggled.

Jake rolled his eyes with a groan, pointing his fork toward the two of you. “That—that right there—is exactly what I was afraid of.”

Ni-ki snorted mid-chew. “Better get used to it, hyung.”

“You all are so dramatic,” you laughed, ruffling Sunoo’s hair before he settled back down, still beaming. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Heeseung raised a mug toward you, smirking over the rim. “Well, welcome to the family, (Y/N). Officially.”

Jake muttered under his breath, “This was not how I planned the soft launch.”

Jay raised a brow. “Soft launch? Bro, we caught you two asleep on the couch like a married couple.”

Jungwon, now finally relaxed, let out a real laugh. “Well, at least you both look happy.”

You glanced at Jake, who was still playing with his fork but met your eyes with a soft, genuine smile—the kind that said you were worth the risk.

You smiled right back, heart full. “We are.”

The waiting room was buzzing with staff, idols, and camera crews, but you were barely focused on any of it.

Your stylist clipped a small mic to the neckline of your basketball jersey—matching Eunchae’s, except instead of shorts, you had a pleated tennis skirt hugging your hips. Your hair was pulled back with soft clips, giving you that preppy-athletic vibe.

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt and turned to Eunchae. “Is it really okay for me to be here? Like… co-hosting?”

“Yes, unnie!” Eunchae beamed, tugging lightly at your hand like an excited puppy. “You’re my member and my unofficial emotional support girlie. Now make it official!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess that makes me your co-host for the day?”

“Exactly.” Eunchae turned the handheld camera toward the two of you. “Hello everyone! Welcome to Eunchae’s Star Diary!” she said brightly, waving into the lens.

“Today is super special because—” she paused dramatically and pointed to you, “I’m with one of my unnies from Le Sserafim! A co-host, perhaps.”

You smiled and waved, voice light. “Hi everyone! I was dragged into this but I’m actually really excited. I’ve never done something like this before.”

“You’re going to be amazing,” Eunchae encouraged, slinging an arm around your shoulder as the two of you began walking through the Music Bank hallway.

“And for the first time, we’re going to be interviewing seniors from our very own company.”

“Oh no,” you laughed, already sensing where this was going. “I already have a feeling I know who…”

You didn’t even finish the thought when a blur of white streaked past the corner of your vision.

All brown hair, soft puppy eyes, and that unmistakable white stage outfit with silver trimming—Jake.

He zoomed right past you and Eunchae like a cartoon character, nearly colliding with a passing staff member before yanking open a door just a few feet ahead.

‘ENHYPEN’s Waiting Room,’ the label on the placard read clearly.

The door slammed shut behind him with a thud.

You and Eunchae both stood there blinking for a second, eyes wide. Then slowly—almost in sync—you turned to look at each other and burst out laughing.

“Did… did he just—” Eunchae started, breathless from laughing.

“Run for his life?” you finished, still wheezing. “Yes. Yes, he did.”

Eunchae reached out and gently placed her palm under the little hanging nameplate stuck to the dressing room door.

“Yes, our esteemed guests for today… are none other than ENHYPEN-sunbaenim,” she declared in her best announcer voice, even pointing toward their printed group photo that was taped just under the sign.

You stepped beside her, brushing invisible lint off your skirt like a proper MC. “They seem a little… unprepared.”

“That’s our cue!” Eunchae laughed, raising her fist and knocking twice.

A loud, scrambling noise came from inside the room—chairs scooting, someone knocking over what sounded like a bag of chips, someone else hissing “Get your jacket on, now—”

And then, a voice rang out—loud and unmistakably dramatic.

“WAIT—WAIT—WAIT!”

You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing. Eunchae doubled over beside you.

“That was Sunghoon, right?” she whispered.

“Definitely Sunghoon,” you replied, biting back a grin.

Another voice chimed in from inside, this one suspiciously Jake-sounding: “Hyung, it’s just them!”

“No, no—give me like ten more seconds, I swear I can fix my hair!”

You and Eunchae looked at the camera, fully breaking the fourth wall.

“Yeah… they’re our stars for today,” you announced with a playful sigh, gesturing grandly to the now panic-filled room behind the door.

You knocked again, this time more gently. “Can we come in now…?” you called through the door.

A beat of silence. Then Jungwon’s voice came through, a bit too composed.

“Yes! You can come in now.”

You opened the door.

And immediately closed it again.

They were all staring at you—you turned to Eunchae, wide-eyed. “Wait. I’m nervous.”

Eunchae gave you a shove toward the door. “You literally know all of them!”

You hissed, “Yeah, that’s the problem!”

Still, you opened it again with a sheepish smile as the cameras followed you two in. “Hello!” you both chorused, bowing politely. “We’re from Le Sserafim—thank you for having us today.”

The boys all bowed back, slightly out of sync, still recovering from the earlier chaos.

Eunchae brightened up, turning to them. “What were you guys doing before we barged in?”

Heeseung scratched the back of his neck and smiled. “We were about to eat, actually.”

You gasped softly. “Ah, we’re so sorry—did we come too early?”

Sunoo waved a hand. “It’s okay! We weren’t really eating yet.”

“Only planning to,” Jay added with a soft chuckle.

Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jake stood up from the couch then, brushing themselves off as you and Eunchae gently motioned for them to follow toward the set for the interview.

The walk to the next room was filled with a strange tension—one part professional courtesy, one part trying to ignore the very real fact that you had three ENHYPEN members you’d been close with for two years, walking beside you like you were strangers on camera. You fiddled with your mic pack to distract yourself.

It was Sunghoon who finally broke the silence. “We’re usually not this quiet,” he said, glancing at you and Eunchae with a crooked smile.

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Jake gave a breathy laugh beside him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry for the awkward vibes… We’re just not used to being interviewed by someone we—uh, we’re familiar with.”

You all chuckled at that as you entered the interview room. It was cozy, almost sleepover-like—blankets, pillows, fairy lights on the walls, and small cushions set up on the floor around a low table.

“Oooh, this is cute,” Eunchae said, making her way to one of the cushions.

You took your place beside her, the designated MCs for today, as the members began settling down on the opposite side—Jake sitting directly across from you with the smallest smile, like he was trying not to break into a full grin.

Eunchae, ever the bubbly host, clapped her hands once. “Okay! Let’s start with introductions! We have three very handsome guests today, so… one by one, please?”

Heeseung leaned forward, voice smooth. “Hello everyone, I’m Heeseung from ENHYPEN.”

Sunghoon followed right after. “Hi, I’m Sunghoon. It’s nice to be here!”

Jake smiled with his eyes. “And I’m Jake. Thanks for having us today.”

You nodded along, doing your best to stay composed despite the fact that your boyfriend was sitting across from you looking far too boyfriend-coded.

“It’s honestly fun having guests on the show,” Eunchae chimed. “Especially today—because I’m not alone in the waiting room for once. Usually I just film solo with a tripod and a camera.”

You giggled, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve seen those. You really hold it down on your own.”

Sunghoon grinned. “I get it, though. I used to be an MC here before you, (Y/N). There were days I’d just sit alone waiting for filming to start. Felt like I was talking to myself half the time.”

“Exactly!” you said, laughing. “There are days I miss my members a lot—when it’s just you and your thoughts before cameras roll.”

Eunchae let out a dramatic sigh and scooted closer to your side, plopping her head gently on your shoulder. “That’s why I’m so happy you’re here today, unnie.”

“Aww,” you whispered with a soft smile, nudging her affectionately.

But before you could say more, a voice from behind the camera called out—one of the PDs, teasing and half-laughing.

“But (Y/N)’s not alone anymore, right?”

You blinked, confused. “Huh?”

Another staff member added, “Don’t you share a waiting room with Jisung from NCT now?”

The entire room changed in atmosphere.

You let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of your neck as you glanced toward the camera. “Ah… well, technically, yes. I mean—we’re just co-MCs.”

Heeseung tried to chuckle along with you, but it came out more awkward than anything. “Yeah, yeah… they’re, uh, a funny duo.”

Sunghoon raised a brow and tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering between you and Jake.

Jake didn’t laugh.

He didn’t speak either—his expression unreadable for a split second before he dipped his head down, pretending to fiddle with the mic clipped to his shirt.

Eunchae, ever the angel, picked up on the shift and quickly added, “Well, either way—it’s more fun having all of you here now! Especially since we get to interview sunbaes from the same company!”

Jake cleared his throat, voice low as he shifted in his seat. “So… what are we doing today?” he asked, looking straight at you, eyes unreadable despite the slight upward tug of his lips.

You matched his expression with a tight smile of your own, schooling your features before glancing at the cue card in your hand.

“Well,” you began, keeping your tone light, “it’s finally here. You had your comeback after what—ten months, right?”

All three boys nodded, and Sunghoon added with a laugh, “Yeah, it feels like it’s been forever.”

“It really has,” Heeseung said. “We’ve been preparing for months. We’re so happy to finally show everyone what we’ve worked on.”

You nodded, stealing a side glance at Jake. He was quiet, fingers laced together in his lap, gaze trained on you but not quite meeting your eyes.

“So tell us about the album,” you continued, tapping the cue card with your finger. “Dark Blood—sounds intense.”

“It is,” Jake finally answered, voice more even now. “It’s our third mini album, and probably one of our most emotionally driven ones. It dives into sacrifice, longing, and… a bit of darkness.”

He gave the camera a practiced smile. “The concept really pushed us, and we’re proud of it.”

Eunchae clapped lightly. “Ooooh! What are your favorite tracks from it?”

“I really love ‘Bills,’” Heeseung answered immediately. “It was the first track we recorded for this album, and I think it set the tone.”

Sunghoon followed right after. “Same here. ‘Bills’ just… hits. The melody’s addictive and it’s fun to perform on stage.”

Eunchae beamed. “Ooh, I like that one too!”

Jake, seated between them, shifted slightly, then leaned forward just enough for his voice to carry with a smoother tone. “I’d say my favorite is ‘Sacrifice (Eat Me Up).’”

He didn’t look at the camera.

He looked at you.

And he kept looking at you as he added, “It’s about giving every part of yourself—body, soul, emotions—until there’s nothing left. It’s intense, a little dangerous.”

He smiled, almost too casually, fingers clasped together in his lap. “It shows what devotion really means.”

The air shifted.

Your hand twitched over your cue card.

Eunchae nodded enthusiastically, completely missing the way your back stiffened. “That one’s my favorite too! Especially the chorus—so catchy!”

You cleared your throat, gripping your cue cards tighter. “Well,” you began, casting a brief glance Jake’s way before quickly looking down again, “I have to agree with Jake. ‘Sacrifice’ really stood out to me too.”

Eunchae turned to you and clapped her hands excitedly. “See? Great minds think alike!”

Your lips curved into a smile, even as your heart stuttered in your chest. Jake’s expression didn’t change—still calm, still composed—but his eyes held something deeper. Something territorial.

Was he still hung up on Jisung? Or was he just reminding everyone who knew you were his?

You weren’t sure whether to feel flattered or worried.

You stood near the side of the waiting room, arms crossed as you watched Jake quietly sling his bag over his shoulder.

Not a word was said, but you could feel it—the subtle shift in his energy. Polite, detached, not cold exactly, just a little too quiet for Jake.

“Hyung, see you later!” Ni-ki called while tying the laces of his sneakers.

“Bye, Jake-hyung! Bye, (Y/N)-noona!” Sunoo added, waving at you with both hands from the makeup chair, eyes crinkling as the stylist gently wiped off the remainder of his eyeliner.

You smiled and waved back, offering a soft, “Bye, Sunoo.”

Heeseung gave you a small nod and a knowing look—like he already sensed the storm brewing.

Jake only muttered, “Bye, guys,” under his breath before reaching for your hand and leading you out the door.

His grip was firm. Not rough, not rushed. But definitely, deliberate.

You said nothing as the two of you walked through the quieter halls of the building, only the soft thuds of your footsteps filling the space.

When you reached the back exit, your van was already waiting—your manager at the wheel, scrolling through her phone with one hand on the steering wheel.

She gave Jake a polite smile. “Evening, Jake.”

“Evening, noona,” he replied, opening the heavy side door for you.

You climbed in without a word, the plush leather seats greeting you with too much silence. Jake followed right after and closed the door behind him—shutting out the world with one solid thud.

The partition was already up.

And still, neither of you spoke.

Jake slid into the seat next to you, his thigh brushing against yours for a second too long before he leaned back and finally said, “So… we’re doing this again, huh?”

You turned to him slowly. “Doing what again?”

He looked at you now, properly, his expression unreadable. “Pretending everything’s fine until we’re alone.”

You blinked. “I wasn’t pretending.”

He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head. “Right. So the tight smile wasn’t pretending. Or dodging every glance I threw at you.”

“Jake—” you started, your voice sharper than you intended.

He snapped.

“I know, okay?” he said, a little louder than before. “I know! How long do I have to pretend like everything’s fine? Like I’m just… okay with it?”

You stared at him, chest rising and falling. “You think I like this too?” you fired back, the words slipping out in English before you could stop yourself.

Jake blinked. His jaw tightened as the shift in language pulled a cord in him, like you had just lit the match.

“Oh, we’re doing this in English now?” he said with a breathy laugh—cold, incredulous. “Fine.”

He turned fully to face you, fire sparking in his eyes. “At least I act like some concerned jealous boyfriend and not like—like some co-worker trying to keep it professional with their own girlfriend.”

“That’s the problem, Jake!” you hissed, fingers clenched into fists in your lap.

“You are my boyfriend. And I can’t have you risk your entire career just because you’re jealous!”

He scoffed. “This isn’t about my career—this is about you! You don’t even look at me when the cameras are on. Like I’m… some stranger you just happen to be standing next to.”

“That’s not fair—”

“No, what’s not fair is me having to sit across from you pretending like I’m not completely in love with someone who’s acting like I don’t even exist!”

Your breath caught.

The van was too quiet now—your hearts beating louder than the hum of the tires on the road.

“I want to show people,” Jake said, his voice cracking just slightly at the edges. “But I want you to want that too. Not because I’m insecure, or jealous, or whatever—but because this?” He pointed between you two. “This matters to me. You matter to me.”

You swallowed hard, voice trembling. “Do you think I don’t want that? That I don’t want to scream that you’re mine?”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because I’m scared!” you blurted. “I’m scared, Jake! Of the backlash. Of the fans. Of you losing everything because of me.”

He stared at you, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

And then, softer, “I’d rather lose everything than keep pretending I don’t love you.”

His words hung in the air like a loaded confession, too heavy to move past.

Jake let out a cold, bitter laugh, dragging his hands through his dark locks, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward, the tension crackling between you both like static.

“It’s been two years, (Y/N),” he muttered, voice laced with exhaustion and disbelief. “Two years of sneaking around, pretending like we’re strangers just because we’re bound by a contract.”

You exhaled shakily, leaning your head back against the leather headrest as your gaze drifted to the tinted window. The soft thrum of the tires against asphalt was the only thing grounding you in that moment.

You glanced at him from your peripheral, voice barely a murmur. “Yeah… two years.”

Two years of midnight meetups. Of erased call logs. Of longing glances across crowded hallways. Of holding back every instinct to reach for him in public.

Jake turned to you, eyes rimmed with something more vulnerable now—less anger, more ache. “I know why we did it. I know why you’re still scared. But at some point, I just—I need to live, (Y/N). I need us to breathe.”

Your lips parted like you wanted to say something—anything—but you swallowed the words, throat too tight.

“Don’t you want that too?” he asked, softer now, like he was begging you. “To stop pretending every second we’re out in the world?”

You looked at him fully now, finally, eyes glassy but steady.

“I do,” you whispered. “More than anything.”

He nodded slowly, lips pressing into a line. “Then why does it feel like I’m the only one willing to fight for it?”

You blinked, stung by the quiet truth in his tone.

“I’m not asking you to shout it from rooftops,” he said. “I’m just asking you to stand with me.”

Silence again—thick, trembling.

“…And if I do?” you finally said. “If I stand with you?”

Jake’s eyes softened completely, a flicker of hope cutting through his frustration.

“Then we figure it out together,” he murmured, fingers brushing over yours like a silent plea, and then—finally—grasping your hand tightly, like he couldn’t bear to let go again.

But for a second, he did.

Just long enough to reach into his bag, pulling out something wrapped in velvet blue, that signature Tiffany & Co. teal peeking from beneath his palm.

You blinked. “Jake…?”

He didn’t look at you at first. He was too busy fiddling with the box, thumb brushing the edges, jaw tight like he wasn’t sure if he should be doing this. But then he looked up—really looked up—and your heart stuttered at the storm in his eyes.

When he opened the lid, your breath caught in your throat.

Two silver bands.

One was simple, sleek, polished to a soft gleam. The other had a small diamond in the center—nothing flashy, but delicate, elegant. Like it was made for you.

“…Is this you proposing?” you asked, trying to break the moment with a shaky laugh. “You know I prefer gold.”

Jake let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “I know. But I also know you’ll love it either way.” He plucked the smaller ring from the box carefully and reached for your hand again.

“This isn’t a proposal, not yet,” he whispered. “It’s a promise. That I’m yours, no matter what. That when the timing is right—when the world stops getting in the way—I’ll ask for forever the right way. The real way.”

You blinked furiously, tears threatening to spill. Jake just smiled—soft, shaky—and slid the ring onto your finger like he’d rehearsed this a hundred times in his head.

“I don’t care if fans notice. If people connect the dots,” he murmured. “Let them. I just need you to know—I need to know—that we’re still choosing each other.”

You stared down at the silver band, the tiny diamond catching the dim van light. Your lip quivered as you reached for the other ring and slipped it onto his finger without a word.

Jake exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years. Then he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the promise he’d just made permanent.

“I don’t need the world to understand,” he said against your knuckles. “I just need you to believe me.”

“I do,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as tears finally slid down your cheeks. “I always have.”

He didn’t speak after that. Just leaned forward, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a soft, slow kiss to your lips—one that wasn’t rushed, one that said everything he couldn’t anymore.

When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed, your fingers still gently curled around his. You opened them slowly, just in time for the soft mechanical whir of the partition being lowered.

“We’re here,” your manager said from the driver’s seat, not turning around. “You two better fix whatever was going on before, hmm?”

You blinked, surprised.

“Thank you, unnie,” you said sheepishly, cheeks burning as you fiddled with your fingers, trying to hide the glint of the new ring.

She sighed, and you could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “It’s not any of my business… but you two look cute together. Fix it. Or I’ll have to deal with moping Jaeyun again.”

Jake burst into quiet laughter beside you, rubbing the back of his neck as he reached for the door handle. “No promises,” he teased. “But thanks, hyung-nim.”

“Noona,” your manager corrected, deadpan.

Jake gave her a small salute. “Thanks, noona.”

You both stepped out into the private parking garage, the crisp air biting at your skin as Jake immediately held out your coat from earlier. You slipped into it gratefully, your cheeks still warm from the kiss and the conversation.

“I’ll grab both our bags,” Jake said before you could protest, already slinging yours over his shoulder with his own. “Don’t fight me on this. Promise ring perks, remember?”

You laughed quietly. “What, like a built-in porter?”

“Exactly,” he grinned, nudging you playfully as you walked side by side.

The click of your boots echoed through the quiet hall as you both made your way toward the private elevator.

The metal doors slid open with a soft ding, and Jake waited until you were inside before stepping in and pressing the button to your floor.

The elevator ride was quiet—but not tense this time. Just calm. Like everything unsaid had finally found its voice.

The soft hum of the lift filled the silence as you leaned slightly into Jake’s shoulder, fingers brushing against his as the floor count ticked up.

Ding.

Jake reached out to stop the doors from closing again and gestured like a gentleman. “After you, milady.”

You smiled, pulling out your card key from your bag as you led the way to your unit. The hallway was dimly lit with soft yellow lighting, familiar and comforting. You slid the card into the slot, the beep echoing softly as the green light blinked.

Jake held out his arm, and you instinctively held onto it for balance as you leaned down to take off your shoes, laughing softly as your heel got stuck on the rug. “Ugh. Why do I always struggle with this?”

“Because you’re stubborn,” Jake chuckled, easily slipping out of his sneakers without using his hands, smug. “No hands, see?”

“You’re so annoying,” you muttered playfully, finally stepping out of your heels and standing upright, twisting the knob to open the door fully—

Only to be met with two pairs of unimpressed eyes.

Standing just inside the entryway, arms crossed and glasses perched threateningly on their noses like two strict moms, were Yunjin and Sakura.

They didn’t say a word.

Not at first.

Just stared. Especially at Jake.

You blinked. Froze.

Jake straightened up immediately beside you, like a student caught sneaking into class late.

“…Hi,” you said nervously, offering a sheepish wave. “How are you two doing tonight…?”

Sakura didn’t even blink. She raised a perfectly shaped brow, arms still crossed, expression cool. “Just fine. Until we realized you said you’d be back in an hour, little missy.”

You gulped. Oh no.

Yunjin sighed dramatically. “I told you she was acting weird this morning. Didn’t I say she took extra long getting ready? That’s always the sign.”

“I thought she was just going through one of her Pinterest-girl phases again,” Sakura muttered. “But no. It’s boyfriend time.”

Jake coughed awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “…Hi. I’m, uh, Jake.”

“We know,” both girls deadpanned in unison.

You looked between them, then at Jake, then back at them. “Okay. Okay. Let’s all breathe.”

Yunjin took a deep breath.

Sakura didn’t.

“…Is this the part where you interrogate us?” Jake asked hesitantly.

“No,” Yunjin said. “This is the part where we ask if you’re staying for dinner.”

Jake blinked. “Wait—what?”

You gawked. “Wait what?!”

Sakura shrugged, walking past you both toward the kitchen. “He’s here. You clearly love him. The least he can do is help us chop garlic.”

Yunjin was already pulling her hair back into a ponytail, heading toward the fridge. “We were going to cook anyway. Might as well feed the mystery boyfriend who’s apparently been around for two years.”

Jake looked at you, eyes wide with disbelief—and relief.

You just laughed. A little too high-pitched. A little too stunned.

“Welcome to my life,” you whispered to him.

Jake leaned down, grinning as he brushed a kiss to your temple. “I like it here already.”

“Hey!” Yunjin’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Stop kissing my daughter, Sim! Get changed and help us here.”

You snorted, hand slapping over your mouth to stifle the laugh. “I’m her daughter now?”

Jake laughed too, already being dragged by the wrist down the hallway toward your room. “Should I be honored or terrified?”

The both of you had barely made it to your bedroom door when Kazuha poked her head out from the kitchen, a mixing bowl in her hands and her hair in a messy bun. “Wait… is that Jake-sunbaenim?!”

You gave her a sheepish grin, not even trying to defend yourself anymore. “He’s real, Zuha. In the flesh.”

“Oh my god,” she muttered, eyes widening, disappearing back into the kitchen like she’d just seen a ghost.

You both burst into laughter as you finally made it into your room, the familiar scent of your linen spray and vanilla candles comforting as ever.

Jake shut the door behind him and immediately made a beeline for your dresser. “Let me guess,” he said as he tugged open the second drawer, “this is your ‘stolen boyfriend item’ storage?”

You said nothing. Just watched as he pulled out a very familiar gray hoodie.

His eyes narrowed playfully. “So this is where my sweatshirt’s been hiding.”

You shrugged with faux innocence, perching on the edge of your bed. “Finders, keepers.”

He huffed out a laugh, already tugging his shirt off over his head—his toned chest flashing for a brief moment before he slipped the hoodie over his head. It was baggy and worn, the fabric clearly well-loved. “I was wondering why my laundry pile’s been suspiciously light.”

You giggled. “You gave me that one to sleep in when I got sick after your birthday, remember?”

Jake paused. “Yeah, you were shivering even under three blankets.”

His voice was fond. Soft. Almost too much to handle.

He reached into your bottom drawer next, pulling out the navy sweatpants he’d once told you to “just keep.” He held them up and raised a brow. “These too?”

You grinned. “Never know when I might need it.”

He chuckled under his breath, slipping into them quickly and ruffling his damp bangs out of his eyes. “Well, I guess I should’ve known you’d turn into a serial hoodie thief.”

You stood up and walked over, resting your hands on his shoulders as you looked him up and down. “To be fair… you wear oversized really well.”

Jake leaned in, hands brushing your waist. “And you wear stolen boyfriend clothes even better.”

Before he could kiss you again, Yunjin’s voice rang from down the hall: “Sim Jaeyun, if you don’t get in here and start slicing strawberries, I’m feeding your girl dinner myself!”

Jake groaned, dropping his head against your shoulder. “God, she’s scary.”

You giggled. “She’s just being protective.”

“She’s doing a great job,” he muttered.

You snorted and tugged him gently by the wrist. “C’mon,” you said, pulling him back out into the hallway. “Time to earn your dinner.”

As you both entered the kitchen, Eunchae perked up immediately, grabbing a plastic container from the counter and placing it in Jake’s hands, along with a cutting board and a knife.

“I literally just interviewed you like two hours ago,” she said dramatically, staring at him in disbelief. “And now you’re cutting strawberries in our dorm kitchen? This is wild.”

Jake gave her a sheepish grin. “Surreal for me too.”

Kazuha, who was already perched on one of the stools by the counter, let out a loud laugh, nearly dropping her phone in the process. “This is insane. Do you just teleport from music shows to our house now?”

You giggled and plopped onto the stool beside her, reaching for a slice of mango from the tray in the center. “He’s an all-rounder, what can I say?”

Jake rolled his eyes fondly as he started slicing the strawberries with surprising focus, the sleeves of his hoodie tugged up to his elbows. “Your kitchen… is very pink,” he muttered, glancing around.

“We like our color coordination,” Sakura replied dryly from the other side of the kitchen island, sipping water from her glass.

She turned to Yunjin, who was standing at the stove whisking something. “So, what’s the plan? Crepes later?”

“Yeah,” Yunjin said without looking away from the pan. “I’ve got a few more strawberries in the fridge. Might as well make it a treat—Chaewon-unnie and (Y/N) would love it. Though, Chaewon-unnie’s knocked out cold right now.”.”

Jake, still cutting with a level of concentration that made everyone a little amused, added casually, “(Y/N) likes snacking on strawberries before dinner. Like… religiously.”

You blinked and turned to him slowly. “You make me sound like I survive solely off berries.”

Sakura didn’t miss a beat. “And she wonders why her appetite’s always ruined.”

Kazuha let out a very loud, “Exactly,” while pointing her spoon at you accusingly.

You gasped with mock offense. “Why is everyone attacking me?!”

Jake chuckled softly, looking over his shoulder at you as he placed another neatly sliced strawberry on the growing pile. “They’re not wrong, babe. You eat them like popcorn.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who steals all the dried mangoes and thinks I don’t notice,” you fired back, arms crossed.

Jake only smirked as he grabbed one of the small ceramic bowls from the rack, neatly dividing the freshly sliced strawberries. He slid one half over to you across the counter with practiced ease. “For my berry thief,” he teased.

“Thanks,” you murmured with a small smile, taking a bite just as Yunjin set down a steaming dish on the dining table behind you.

She wiped her hands on a towel tucked into her waistband, eyeing the two of you with an unreadable expression before heading back to the stove and grabbing a ladle. She poured broth into a pan with calculated calm, then turned slightly over her shoulder.

“Jake,” she called, tone almost too light. “What do you want with (Y/N)?”

You nearly choked on your strawberry.

“Unnie,” you protested, voice cracking as your eyes darted between your members. “Really?”

Jake, unbothered, leaned his elbows on the counter and met Yunjin’s gaze head-on. “What do I want with her?” he repeated, almost playfully. “Let’s see…”

He turned to you with a quick wink before looking back at Yunjin. “I’ve known her for three years,” he said smoothly. “Dated her for two.”

Jake chuckled nervously. “Yeah… we started seeing each other around the Dimension era. Kept it under wraps, obviously.”

You stared at your hands, cheeks flushing as the kitchen filled with stunned silence.

⤷ read part 2 here !

⤷ permanent tagllist — @m1kkso

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manariee · 2 days ago

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ACT LIKE IT

𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝟬𝟰 ★ you have to make it believeable

enemy situationship (?) 박성훈 & fem!reader wc 522 ◜ᯅ◝ implied harrassment, implied situationship, mentions of drinking, slow burn-ish, tension

REBLOG4AKISS

MANA: a bit rushed but this may be the only fic before i dissapear for a week !!

The club was packed, you told yourself one night to yourself would be good. That your friends were right about a break.

Now your friends were long gone, phone had no signal, drink cup empty. And the last guy who got too close had made your skin crawl.

You were desperate - for ANY help.

So when you saw another one of those nasty drunk men walking over with a smug grin, you knew you had to think fast. You looked around EVERYWHERE for someone who you might've could've known would help. And there he is.

Park. Fucking. Sunghoon. Of all people.

The one guy who you swear lives to make your life miserable, sometimes in a good way, sometimes in worse. The one whose smirk you wanted to slap off his face. Most days..

You swallowed your pride and pushed your way through the crowd, his own brows furrowing the second he locked his eyes with yours.

''What?'' He asked flatly as you stopped in front of him.

''Pretend to be my boyfriend,'' you whispered, low and urgent, already grabbing his wrist.

Sunghoon blinked once, then twice.

''Are you drunk?''

You were taken aback before scoffing. ''What? No what the hell are you talking about?''

You then glanced back, spotting the guy from earlier then looked back at Sunghoon. ''Please.''

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed. You never said please to him. That alone made him pause.

He then glanced over to the guy and quickly tugged you closer to his chest.

''Is he still looking?'' you whispered.

''No,'' Sunghoon said. ''But he is walking over.''

You didn’t have time to process. Sunghoon turned to face you fully, tilted his head down - and wrapped both arms around your waist like he meant it.

''Look at me.'' he murmured low. ''If we're doing this, we're doing it right.''

You looked up - and suddenly you forgot how to breathe.

He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear. ''You owe me for this,'' he whispered, almost smug.

You almost shivered, though Sunghoon's eyes narrowed on the other man, his intense gaze scaring the guy away.

But you noticed the way his hands remained on you, for longer than necessary.

''You okay?'' he asked, snapping you out of whatever trance you were stuck in.

''Yeah.'' you answered back, heart beating so loudly you could hear it in your ears, and you just knew he could too.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. ''You look like you're about to combust. Didn't realize pretending would get you this worked up.''

''Shut up,'' you hissed. ''You're enjoying this.''

His grin turned downright devilish. ''Maybe. But I'll admit something-''

His hand cupped your jaw, tilted your head so you couldn't look away.

''You asking me for help?'' he murmurs. ''That’s kinda hot. And a bit cute.''

You turned and walked away before you could embarrass yourself further.

But your phone buzzed an hour later.

P.SH [DNI]: y'know if you ever need another boyfriend again..

P.SH [DNI]: what i mean is you can just walk over and kiss me

P.SH [DNI]: fuck it i'm coming over

lovliezᡣ𐭩: @chrrific @saemisic @heeaara @ltfirecracker @woniefication @lezleeferguson-120 @rikifever @chaeneu @jjennuine @callikari @yuuuraaa @wondoras @koiiqqqq @orimuraa

NETS: @k-films

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simjakesgirl · 2 days ago

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drive in (18+)

synopsis: you and jake haven't seen each other for a while and decide to go see a drive in movie... warnings: afab reader, smut, dom!jake, brattamer!jake (sortaa??), sub!reader, degrading author's note: okay i haven't forgot abt my series but i am multi fandom and while digging through my drafts i found this old jake smut and it's kinda good lol..

you and jake went out to see a drive in movie, unsure of the last time you guys might’ve went on a date. you can guess the outcome of that, you were dying to just touch each other. jake, being a gentleman, tried his best not to go insane when you left the house in the tiniest skirt he'd ever seen. of course he also couldn’t tell you not to wear it because it was him that bought it for you. you knew exactly what you were doing though. it barely covered enough for his liking and you knew that it would drive him crazy. with so much comeback preparations, the only thing you got was phone calls when he was too fucked to even think straight and he needed to hear your voice.

it became obvious that you guys needed more as you both could barely pay attention to the movie. you noticed how jake would look over once in a while, not at your face of course and then quickly turn back to the movie with no focus on it whatsoever. his mind raced with things he wanted to do to you instead, but his restraint was strong. you couldn't help but look over at him too, taking in the way his jaw was tightly clenched and his hands fidgeted with each other. he looked too good and knowing that he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him was enough to tip you over the edge.

you then got the best idea possibly ever. you quickly checked your surroundings as jake’s eyes stayed glued to the movie. everyone seemed preoccupied, just enough for you to get away with your plan. jake drove a pretty old car, not because it was all he could afford or anything, but because he liked the style of it. the downside was the air system was pretty busted. it would only really work when it felt like working and jake constantly worried about overheating the car especially in summer, so he'd try and run the ac when it did work. you realized since you guys left that jake forgot your blanket that you'd use when he ran the ac since you preferred warmer temps. the plan was destined to work.

you began to fake shiver in your seat, rubbing against your arms and chattering your teeth just enough to make it look real. jake quickly took notice, shutting off the ac and turning to check the backseat.

“fuck,” he breathed out. you almost stop breathing at the sound.

he turned back to you, examining the way you shivered and looked up to him innocently.

“i forgot the blanket, i'm sorry,” he apologized sweetly, biting his lip while trying to think of a way to help you.

“it’s okay, jakey,” you pouted, trying to seem as innocent as possible even though your plan was far from it.

“here.” he removed his hands from his lap, gesturing you over with his fingers. “sit on my lap.”

you hid your smile the best that you could, climbing over the center console and sitting between his legs so you were facing the movie. he innocently kissed the top of your head before pulling you gently into his chest for comfort. you were inches away from what you needed, except you were unsure how to get the point across. he brought his hands to your legs, rubbing them to warm you up, but stopping inches away from where you needed him the most. you shifted around, purposefully rubbing against his dick a little bit to give him a hint. his breath hitched, but he didn’t do anything further, making you pout. you tried again, making it more obvious.

“here,” he lifted you up onto his thigh, putting his hand loosely around your waist so you couldn’t fall. “is that better?”

“..mhm” you hummed, lightly grinding yourself against him, fighting for release.

at this point jake knew what you were up to, but he didn’t want you to think it would be so easy. he’d let you continue and then stop you once you were close by moving his leg. tears began to bore at your eyes as your multiple attempt failed. you didn’t know why he couldn’t notice you needed him.

“why're you pouting like that, sweetheart?” he teased, turning back to the screen.

“jakey please.” you breathed out, your tears falling from your eyes at that point.

“what’s wrong, hm?” he started, his voice laced with fake comfort. “you wanna cum?”

you nodded quickly, looking at him with glossy eyes as he looked down on you with dark ones.

“tell me what you want.” he demanded, finding himself getting hard at your quivering lip and teary eyes.

he turned you around effortlessly, your back now facing the movie. you looked down, shy all of a sudden and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“i..i want you to fuck me jake…please.” you pleaded, just above a whisper.

“yeah?” you could hear the smirk in his voice. “that’s why you wore this little skirt to tease me and rubbed yourself against my dick like a whore? hm?”

you nodded, your face still buried in embarrassment.

“if you want it, you’re gonna speak to me like a big girl,” he said, bringing his hands to your arms and pushing you away from his neck.

you diverted your gaze, playing with the bottom of his shirt innocently, too shy to look at him. his hand quickly left your arm, holding your chin and pushing it up so you had to look at him.

“tell me then,” jake started again as if he was disciplining you.

his eyes locked with yours, making you shiver under his touch.

“i…i wanted to tease you,” you admitted, your cheeks getting hot under his gaze. “m’ sorry, please forgive me.”

your eyes welled up with tears and the pressure from trying to hold them back had you sucking in your breath.

“baby, i know you’re sorry,” he fake consoled you, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip. “but you know how hard you made things for me?”

“yes,” you choked out, tears soaking your face from how bad you felt.

he stuck his thumb into your mouth, rubbing against the soft padding of your tongue.

“then tell me you’ll be good girl,” he demanded, his eyes flitting back up to yours.

he removed his thumb from your mouth, still holding your chin.

“i’m a g-good girl,” you repeated, just above a whisper.

“you can do better, do it again,” he demanded.

“i-i’m a g-good girl.” you repeated, louder but strained from your crying.

“stop crying, do it again.”

you whimpered, biting down on your bottom lip to try and calm down, but the frustration only made you want to cry more.

“please, jake, i’m a good girl.” you repeated once again, gripping the bottom of his shirt to put your frustration somewhere.

he reached down, unhooking your hands from his shirt to unzip his jeans. he pushed through his boxers to free his cock and you almost drooled at the sight, especially the way he ran his hand over it to jerk himself just a bit.

“you think you’re a good enough girl for it?” he questioned, his voice husky and strained.

you nodded quickly, looking up at him for a split second to meet his dark stare.

"you want it?” he asked.

you nodded again, trying to grab it, but jake grabbed your wrist tightly.

“nuh-uh, you want it, then you gotta beg me for it.”

you whined again, feeling yourself wanting to cry. your core was aching painfully, just wanting to be touched, but you couldn’t do anything about it. you pouted, trying to lightly grind yourself just barely against jake’s leg to ease the pain and clear your mind, but his hands came to your waist, holding you with such a grip, you couldn’t move.

“you really are a whore,” jake degraded, “can’t even spend two seconds without touching yourself. you see how pathetic that is?”

“jakey, please, i can’t think straight. i want it so bad, it hurts, please give it to me. please, daddy.” you babbled, not even registering half of the things you were saying.

“it hurts, baby? is that right?”

you nodded, taking shallow breaths to control your emotion. his cock visibly jumped, not that you noticed at all. you weren’t noticing much of anything at that moment. he knew it was past enough teasing for you, but now also for him.

“fuck,” he breathed out. “lay back for me.”

you laid back against the wheel as jake pulled your legs closer to him so he could see under the skirt. right away there was a dark wet patch against your underwear and his jeans. he pulled them off to the side, you now on display for him. he ran his fingers up your folds, noticing how sensitive you were from the slightest touch. you couldn’t help but moan when he touched you since you’d been waiting so long. he stuck two of his fingers in, watching your face as he slowly fucked them in and out. you wanted him to go faster, but you knew better than to provoke him at that moment. at least he was giving you something. he waited until you climaxed to even think about himself, his restraint wavering towards the end as he guided you through your high.

he spit on his dick, jerking with it before lining himself up. you looked at him with lidded eyes, almost too drunk on feelings to even keep them open.

“fuck,” he breathed out while he pushed himself in.

you moaned lightly, trying to keep quiet before anyone got suspicious, but jake didn’t seem to care. the way he had you, if anyone looked over they'd know exactly what was happening. slowly you forgot to care too, the way jake felt was just too good after so long without him in you.

“kiss me,” you strained out to him.

he pulled you towards him, kissing you and swallowing your sounds as they came. you tried your best to slowly ride him so the car didn't shake so much, but eventually jake got tired of it and took things into his own hands.

“feel good?” he asked through heavy breaths.

“yes, it feels so so good jakey.” you whined, feeling close already.

he took notice, bringing his thumb to your clit to bring you to your high. you tried to hold back, not wanting the moment to end just yet, but the sensation was too much.

"stop fighting it. be good and cum for me, sweetheart."

and that was all it took. before you knew it you were cumming all over his cock and he was pulling you off.

“wait, what about you?” you asked as he was still visibly hard.

“you know i can’t help but feel bad for you, baby, but it doesn’t mean that you can get away with anything. we still have to go home,” he explained, covering you up once again before himself “i didn’t even punish you yet.”

he gestured for you to sit back in the passenger seat and next thing you knew, he was pulling out of the lot...

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swiftjay23 · 2 days ago

Text

You Remember Wrong

Genre: Psychological Horror Erotic Thriller Unreliable Memory / Glitchcore Smut-Heavy Mindfuck Neo-noir Romance Paranormal Erotica, Dead Boyfriend Isn’t Dead, Or Maybe He Is, Gaslight Gatekeep Ghost Dick, Sex and Memory Collapse, Possessive Glitchboyfriend, Mirror Sex, Voicemail Moaning, Fucking Through Amnesia, Trauma-Fueled Lust, “He’s still inside you”, Is She Dead? Is He Real?, No One Knows. Especially Not You, Emotional Manipulation via Orgasm, Unreliable Narrator, Haunting as Foreplay, File://ERROR, You Died. Maybe.

SUMMARY: Every year at exactly 12:12 a.m., you receive a single text. Always from the same name. Always the same word: “Sorry.” The name? Jake. Your boyfriend. Your first love. Declared dead five years ago. You thought the case was closed. You thought you were healing. But this year, the message changes. “You remember wrong.” Reality glitches. Your reflection moves without you. He never left. And he’s not leaving now.

🔞 CONTENT TAGS / WARNINGS (Explicit): MDNI Oral Sex (M→F), Vaginal Sex, Mirror Play, Rough Sex, Creampie, Somnophilia Themes, Breathplay / Choking, Public Photo/Surveillance Kink, Voicemails Featuring Moaning, Glitching Reality / Horror, Forced Arousal via Haunting, Intense Psychological Themes, Unclear Consent in Dream/Memory Sequences, Body Memory / Amnesia, Blood Mention, Flashbacks to Sex and Grief, Possessive Behavior, Distorted Perception, Delusions of Love, Self-Pleasure Induced by Haunting, Manipulation via Pleasure, Mentions of Death, Fire, Identity Erasure, YOU DIED. (Maybe.)

Pairing! Sim Jaeyun | Jake (Enhypen) × Female Reader

Word Count: 3377

🗂🕯️ Permanent Taglist:

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Your apartment is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that shouldn’t exist in a city that never fucking sleeps.

It’s not just silence, it’s a void.

You’re half-asleep on the couch, remote still clutched in your hand, your phone balanced on your chest. A candle flickers out in the kitchen. You don’t remember lighting it.

Then the phone buzzes.

You jolt, eyes unfocused as the screen lights your skin. One notification. One word. One name.

It starts the same way it always does. Phone buzzes. Screen lights up. 12:12 a.m. You don’t need to look at the name. You already know.

1 new message from: Jake

Your chest contracts. Your breath stalls. Your fingers twitch. The first year, it said "Sorry." The second, third, and fourth did too. A single word. Unchanging. Like a ghost with manners.

But tonight, tonight, it’s different.

No. This time, it’s you who’s the problem.

You sit up. Every hair on your arm stands. Because… he’s dead.

Jake’s dead. He’s been dead for five years. Found dead, stabbed, burned, unidentifiable. The authorities ruled it a home invasion. But something never sat right. Declared gone at exactly 12:12 a.m. the time carved into every death certificate, every news report, every echo of your memory.

You remember wrong.

You stare. Not at the message. At the room. Like something's about to shift. Crack. Like the floorboards might peel back and spill blood. You’re alone. Of course you’re alone.

Except…

The bathroom door is open. You always leave it closed. The faucet’s dripping. You haven’t used it all night. You back away slowly.

You pull yourself off the couch like the air’s thickened. Something’s wrong. The temperature’s dropped. Your reflection in the mirror across the room looks… too still. Like it’s not moving when you do.

You blink. It blinks back. And then. Your legs brush the edge of your bed. You sit down without meaning to. Hands trembling.

You hear it.

A clink. Metal against ceramic. From the kitchen.

You whisper it before you can stop yourself. “Jake?” The light above you flickers. Just once. A joke, maybe. A coincidence. Except you don’t believe in those anymore.

You haven’t said his name out loud in almost two years. You forgot how it tasted. Bitter. Familiar. Like copper and old perfume.

Your phone buzzes again.

Don’t say it again.

You flinch. You’re not alone. You don’t know how you know. But you know. The air shifts. Thickens. Warms. You feel something press against your shoulder, then nothing.

You turn. No one. Except your bedroom mirror. Fogged over. Like someone breathed against it. Like someone’s still breathing.

Your body moves before your brain does. You stumble to the mirror.

The words smear across the glass like fingerprints. "Shh." And behind your own reflection, someone stands.

Close. Too close. Fingertips graze your waist. Cold. Familiar.

You take a few steps back. Head to the kitchen for water and a sleep pill. You step forward slowly, heart hammering in your chest. There’s a knife on the counter. The same one that went missing last week. The same one from the police report five years ago, missing weapon, presumed disposed.

It’s back. Dripping something dark. Like it was just used.

You take one step back. And then—

A hand wraps around your waist. Familiar. Warm. Firm.

Another hand covers your mouth. You try to scream but it’s breathless, like your lungs forgot how. And then you hear him.

That voice. That fucking voice. Right by your ear. A low whisper, like silk sliding over a wound.

“Shh.” “You talk too much when I’m home.”

You jerk forward but the grip doesn’t loosen. His lips brush your jaw, lazy. Fond. Possessive.

“You weren’t supposed to ask.” “You were supposed to miss me.” You twist around. And you see him. Sim Jaeyun.

Alive.

Or at least, something that looks like him. Hair slightly longer. Skin paler. Eyes… glitched. Like a skipped frame in a movie reel. Too real. Not real enough. Both.

He smiles. And your body betrays you.

You feel wetness between your legs. Because your body remembers. Even if you don’t.

You back up. Your voice breaks: “Are you—?”

He’s already shaking his head. “You remember wrong.”

You wake up on the floor.

Hardwood against your cheek. Cold sweat on your spine. The clock on your microwave says 4:43 a.m.

The knife’s gone. The fogged-up mirror is dry. The message from Jake, deleted. And your phone? Powered off. You don’t remember turning it off.

Your throat feels raw. Your lips are bruised. Your thighs are sore.

You pull your sleep shirt down over your ass as you stand, shaky, like your body’s been used. Touched. Fucked. Like the ghost of a man fucked you open and made you forget your own name.

You try to shake it off. Go to the bathroom. Turn on the light— It flickers. No surprise. You lean over the sink. There’s blood beneath your fingernails.

By noon, you’re sitting at your desk with four tabs open: Jake’s police file An archived news report The coroner’s statement The funeral guest list

Every link says the same thing: Jake died. Five years ago. Time of death? 12:12 a.m. No body ever confirmed. Closed casket. The fire burned his face. They ruled it a match using dental records. That’s what you remember.

Except one file doesn’t open. Jake’s identity archive. The system returns a red blinking message.

FILE://ERROR – IDENTITY MISMATCH. SOURCE UNSTABLE.

You stare. The file isn’t corrupted. You are.

You hear your phone vibrate from the kitchen.

One new voicemail. Timestamped at 2:47 a.m. While you were… unconscious? Dreaming? Coming?

You press play.

You expect static. Garbled signals. You get moaning. Your moaning.

Panting, whispering something over and over. Begging.

“Jake, please, just tell me—” A wet sound. Fingers. Something deeper. Your voice breaks. “What are you, what are you doing to me?” “I’m making you forget.” Click. End of voicemail. You drop the phone.

You curl up on the floor of your apartment like it’ll help you hold shape. Your hand drifts down.

It’s not a choice. It’s instinct.

You’re soaked. You slide a hand under your shorts, two fingers curling in like they’ve been taught. Like someone trained them.

You gasp. The memory floods back, his teeth on your shoulder. His voice in your ear. “I know how to make you come harder than truth.”

The orgasm hits before you’re ready. Violent. Full-body. You come shaking, biting your hand to keep from sobbing.

And just as you blink your eyes open, he’s standing in the doorway.

Not a sound. Not a footstep.

He’s just… there. Leaning against the frame. T-shirt half untucked. Hair wet. Eyes on your fingers.

Jake.

Still not dead. Still not explaining. Just watching you unravel.

You try to speak. Your mouth opens. He raises a finger to his lips again.

“Don’t ask.” “Just come here.”

You wake up naked.

Sheets tangled between your legs. Mouth dry. Skin damp. A bruise blooming on the inside of your thigh in the shape of a hand you know too well. Jake is gone. Again. But he always leaves reminders.

The scent of him on your pillow. The ache in your cunt like you were kept up all night. The slick that clings to your inner thighs, cooling.

You try to clench your legs, flinch. It hurts. God, it hurts. Like you came over and over and forgot how to stop.

Your phone buzzes. You drag yourself to the edge of the bed, grab it with trembling fingers.

Unknown Number

1 New Photo 1 New Voicemail

You don’t open the voicemail. Not yet. Your eyes land on the photo first.

You. And Jake. Laughing. Holding hands. Drinking coffee. Last week.

Date stamped. Geotagged. Smiling.

You drop the phone. Because you don’t remember that moment. You didn’t go out last week. You barely left the apartment.

You haven’t smiled like that since—

That night, he comes back. Doesn't say a word, moves up to your room.

You follow him.

You don’t remember standing. You don’t remember moving. But suddenly, you’re in the hallway, feet bare, heart in your throat, the floorboards creaking like they're holding secrets.

Jake doesn’t look back. He doesn’t have to. You’d follow him off a rooftop right now, and he knows it.

He pushes the door open to your bedroom. Except—

It’s not your bedroom. It’s cleaner. Too clean. Sterile. Like a memory of a bedroom. Your furniture, your sheets, but wrong.

The scent hits first. Jake’s cologne. Faint. Faded. Like he’s been here this whole time, bleeding into the walls. Your knees wobble.

He doesn’t speak. Just sits at the edge of your bed. Legs spread. Elbows on his knees.

And that smile. The one that used to mean “Come here and let me wreck you.” The one that made you soft when you were supposed to stay angry.

It’s back. But colder. Hungrier.

You open your mouth, he raises a hand. Stops you with one look. “I’m not here to explain.” “I’m here to remind you.”

He pulls you by the wrist. You stumble, fall into him, straddle his lap without meaning to.

Your shirt rides up. He palms your hips like you’re his. Like he never died. Like you never forgot how good this felt.

He kisses you like punishment. Like silence. Like you’re not supposed to speak, only break.

Your mouth tastes like grief and heat and déjà vu. You don’t even notice when he lifts you, lays you down, crawls between your thighs. Because your head tilts.

And then you see it. The mirror.

Across the room. The full-length one you never liked. The one you threw a blanket over after he died. It’s uncovered.

You see yourself. On your back. Legs around his waist.

But something’s wrong.

The reflection smiles first. Not you.

Your reflection is moaning before you even feel his cock push inside. Grabbing his shoulders. Tilting your head.

You’re still gasping, still catching up. But the girl in the mirror is already cumming.

Already his. He fucks you slowly. Like he’s memorizing you again. Like he’s carving something into your bones that won’t leave, even after death.

“This is the version of you I like best,” he murmurs. “You never talk during sex. Just beg.”

You want to ask where he’s been. Why no one remembers. Why you’re unraveling. But your mouth won’t work. He’s thrusting too deep. Your voice has become sound, not sense.

The reflection lifts her head. She watches you. Smiling, dazed.

She whispers something you can’t hear— But Jake can. Because he leans down and repeats it into your throat. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

You cum when his hand closes over your throat. Tears slipping from your eyes, not from pain. From remembering. Everything. Or nothing.

And just before you pass out. The reflection mouths something new. “Don’t wake up.”

You wake up naked.

The knock at your door is too normal. It jars. You tug on a hoodie. Nothing underneath. Still wet. The air stings between your legs. You’re leaking. You open the door a crack.

It’s your neighbor. The old woman from 5B.

She frowns. Takes a step back like she’s seen a ghost. “I thought… sorry, I didn’t think anyone lived here anymore.” “Weren’t you the girl whose boyfriend—”

She stops.

“No, that’s not right. You moved out. Five years ago.” “After the fire.”

She leaves before you can speak. Your lungs seize.

You slam the door shut. Collapse against it.

You're not real. Or maybe reality isn’t.

You crawl back to the bed. The sheets are cold. The mirror across the room is cracked. The voicemail still waits. You hit play. Jake’s voice.

“You're tighter when you’re scared.” “When you don’t understand what I am.” “But your body does, doesn’t it?”

There’s a wet sound. Slapping. Breathing. Your voice. “Jake—please, I can’t—” “You can. You always could.” “I’m the only thing that ever felt real.”

You hear him groan. “Say my name.”

Your voice on the recording sobs it. Moans it. Over and over. Crying it into the crook of his neck. Begging for more.

“Say you’re mine.” “Say it, or I’ll fuck you until you forget your name again.”

You say it. On the tape. Desperate. Shattered.

“I’m yours, Jake—fuck—yours—” He laughs. Low. Ruined.

“Good girl.” You drop the phone again.

You don’t remember the night. But your body does. You’re sore, raw, dripping down your thighs like the proof of possession.

You crawl onto the bed again. Still open. Still warm.

And you feel it, Not just slick but him. Like he’s still inside you. Like he never left.

You reach down.

Two fingers. Wet. Warm.

You fuck yourself with the rhythm he used last night. And in the mirror, you see Jake.

Behind you. No expression. Hands on your hips. Watching. But when you spin around? Nothing.

The email from the archives comes at 3:03 a.m. Just two lines:

REQUEST DENIED. SUBJECT: Y/N [REDACTED] – STATUS: DECEASED.

You blink at the screen. Your name, blacked out. Birth certificate: not found. Hospital file: error. Death record: processed.

You’re not dead. You’re not.

You touch your own pulse just to check. And your fingers come away sticky. Slick.

You’re wet again. Still. There wasn't a time you weren't, with his breath hitting you constantly.

A knock at the door. Not tentative. Not curious. Confident. Like someone who knows you’ll answer.

You grab your robe, still braless, panties nonexistent. Because nothing stays on you these days. Jake makes sure of it.

You open the door. And there he is.

Bare-chested. Black sweats. No shoes. Neck glistening with sweat like he ran here. Or maybe… like he came. His eyes flick over you.

The robe barely clings to your shoulders. His gaze drops between your thighs.

“You’re leaking again.” “Let me fix that.” You don’t speak.

Because your body’s already moving. Letting him in. Locking the door. He doesn’t waste time.

Pushes you against the kitchen counter. Hands under your robe. No patience. You gasp when his fingers slide in—two, immediately. Like he owns the place. Like he’s coming home.

“Still this wet?” he whispers, mouth on your throat. “Even when I’m not around?”

You try to lie. Try to say it’s from the dream, the tape, the memory.

But he curls his fingers inside you just right. Finds that spot. And you choke. He smirks.

“Thought so.” He flips you over the counter.

No warning. Your robe’s yanked open, tits pressed against cold granite. One hand between your shoulders, the other already freeing his cock. You look back. And fuck.

He’s hard. Thick. Mean-looking. The kind of cock you don’t forget, even if reality begs you to.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what you are.” You hesitate. He doesn’t. He slams in. One thrust. Bottoms out.

You scream, choked, sudden, fucked full.

“Say it.” You sob. “I’m yours.” “Jake, I’m yours—”His hips snap forward, fast, brutal. Your nails scratch the countertop.

“Louder.” “Let the walls remember too.”

You say it. You cry it. You mean it.

Because he’s fucking you like he wants to leave a blueprint inside. Like when you’re gone, your cunt will still remember. You cum hard. On his cock. Around it. Slick splattering down your thighs, onto the floor.

He doesn’t stop.

“That’s it.” “Stay broken.” “Stay mine.”

He pulls out just enough, then slams back in. You feel it in your teeth.

And just before you black out— You hear it again. The mirror. A whisper from across the room. Soft. Feminine. You. “Don’t wake up.”

But you don't, you never fall asleep. The room is quiet after he cums.

He doesn’t pull out. Just stays pressed deep inside, breath tickling your neck, his palm cradling your jaw like you’re made of glass.

You’re shaking. He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

Soft. Nothing like before. No thrust. No demand. Just lips.

“You used to cry when I touched you.” “The first time, remember?”

You don’t.

But your body clenches around him like you do.

FLASH.

You’re nineteen. Jake’s apartment. Messy sheets, your first real boyfriend, his trembling fingers between your thighs.

He’s saying, “Tell me if it hurts.” You’re whispering, “Don’t stop.”

Your legs shake when you cum. You cry into his neck. He holds you like it’s sacred. Back in the present, he fucks you slow again. Almost gentle.

“You were so good for me,” he murmurs. “So fucking sweet. Always so wet. Always mine.” Your eyes sting. You don’t want to cry. You don’t know if this is memory or manipulation.

But he leans in. Kisses your lips, soft. Careful. Real.

“You still are.”

You’re riding him now. Hands on his chest. Your thighs sore. The mirror behind him cracked. Still watching.

You roll your hips. Slow. Needy. And Jake? He’s smiling.

Not that twisted grin. A real smile. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.” “Let me see you. Let me remember.” Your walls clench.

You moan. Loud. Unfiltered. And Jake, his hands shake when he grabs your hips. “You’re my favorite version.” You whimper: “Which one am I?”

He doesn’t answer. Just thrusts up, deep, perfect.

And you come.

FLASH. A picnic. Sunlight. Jake handing you strawberries. Telling you your laugh is his favorite sound.

You laugh now. But it’s hollow. You collapse against him.

He wraps you in a blanket. Cradles your head. Hums. “You used to cry when I touched you.” “But now you forget.” “And when you forget, you let me touch you again.” You fall asleep like that.

Still inside him. Still unsure. Still his.

It starts with a letter. On your pillow. Folded once. No envelope. Your name in blue ink. You recognize the handwriting. Yours.

The signature, though, is Jake’s. “You used to write me letters when you were angry. You said it was easier than screaming. You only screamed when I left. I didn’t leave. You did.”

The paper smells like old perfume. Yours. Or his. You’re not sure anymore.

“You begged me to come back. So I did. I made a home in the only place you’d never look again. Inside your own memory.”

The voicemail comes two minutes later. You play it. Your mother’s voice. Shaky. Frayed. Real. “Sweetie, I—I don’t know why you keep saying his name. You always did this, remember? Imaginary friends. But Jake, Jake never existed. We thought it stopped after the… after the accident.”

“You died. Honey, you died. You weren’t supposed to come back.”

She’s crying.

“Why are you calling me from this number? Whose phone is this?Please stop. Just let it rest.”

The world goes quiet.

The room doesn’t feel cold. It feels… gone. Like the lights are on in a house that was never built. You walk to the window.

And across the street. You see it.

Your funeral. A closed casket. Mourning clothes. Black umbrellas under white sun. Your mother on her knees in front of the altar. Sobbing. The same woman who left the voicemail. Only now it’s hours later.

But you’re not there. You’re somewhere else.

The kitchen smells like eggs and citrus.

Jake stands at the stove. Barefoot. Sweats hanging low. Soft music playing from an old radio that never worked.

He looks up. “Morning.” “You look pale.” “You dreamed again, didn’t you?”

You sit down. There’s orange juice in your cup before you speak. “Jake…”

He slides the eggs onto your plate. Kisses your forehead. “I’m yours. You made me that way.” “I can’t leave anymore.”

You blink. He smiles. “Eat, baby. It’s a long life. And we’re the only ones who remember it.”

In the mirror behind him, you’re smiling.

But you’re not eating. Your reflection tilts its head. Blood drips down its nose. You wipe yours. Nothing. Jake sits across from you. Reaches for your hand. And you don’t ask if he’s real.

You just whisper: “Will you stay?” He doesn’t blink. “I never left.”

Outside, the funeral ends. They bury the casket. The wind carries a single name from your mother’s lips:

“Please. Come back.”

But you’re already home. You always have been.

The End You remember wrong.

masterlist

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 2 days ago

Note

Okay me have request for no doubt Jake. Something where they’re going out to a fancy dinner or something and reader starts to feel insecure when she puts her dress on and she now doesn’t want to go. And then you know good ol’ Jake coming in and saving the day with his kind words

OKAY FINALLY TACKLING ONE OF THE MANY ANGSTY ONES in my inbox !!! this one is just mildly angsty, but mainly just floof :P i hope you like ittt,,,lowkey felt iffy abt it but idk HELP😭good ol' puppy dog jakey <3

──── TO BE LOVED IS TO BE SEEN🪞🍷 ↳ requested // part of the no doubt series !

“Baby?” Jake’s voice rings through the apartment from the living room. “We have to leave soon if we wanna make it to the reservation on time.”

But you don’t answer.

You’re standing still in front of the mirror—still. Quiet. Barely breathing.

Your hair’s done. Your makeup too. The dress fits just the way you imagined it would when Jake helped you pick it out last week—color stunning, silhouette flattering—the whole nine yards.

But the longer you look—

The longer your eyes linger, the more you see.

A weird angle. That one part of yourself you always avoid in photos. A spot where you swear the dress bunches up just a little wrong.

And suddenly, the excitement from before turns into a tightness in your stomach.

You’re still frozen when Jake walks in.

He spots you, standing in front of the mirror, and his face lights up instantly.

“Baby,” he says, voice genuine and fond, walking straight to you and sliding both his arms gently across your shoulders from behind. He kisses the back of your head. “You look so good.”

You don’t say anything.

He doesn’t notice at first, stepping next to you to adjust the cuff of his sleeve in the mirror. His hair is pushed back. Tie perfectly straight—the one you helped him with. He looks…perfect that it’s honestly unfair.

You glance at him for half a second and it makes your chest ache.

Then—

He looks up. His eyes meet yours.

And he knows.

“Hey,” his voice is soft, immediately turning to face you. His hands find yours, thumbs rubbing gentle circles against your knuckles. “What’s wrong?”

You just shake your head. Shrug. You stare at the ground.

“I don’t think I want to go anymore.”

His brows furrow slightly. For a split second.

Then, he nods. Silently, simply, understandingly.

Without saying anything, he guides you gently over to the bed. He sits first, tugging you down beside him, keeping your hands in his.

He waits a beat.

You swallow, then—

“…I don’t feel good in this, Jake. I don’t know why. I just—“

You stop yourself, your voice cracking before you can even finish.

Jake’s heart breaks a little.

His eyes soften.

He lifts your joined hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles once. Then again.

“Okay,” he murmurs against your skin. “You don’t feel good in it. That’s valid. But…I’m gonna tell you what I see.”

You look up at him. You don’t say anything.

So he keeps going.

He shifts closer, knees bumping yours, hands cupping your face so gently it feels like he’s holding glass.

“I see the girl I’m completely in love with. In the dress that made me literally short-circuit ever since you tried it on.” He smiles a little. “Remember when I tripped on the fitting room carpet?”

Your lips twitch, but the smile doesn’t reach quite yet.

His thumbs brush over your cheeks, his eyes never leaving your face once. His voice drops quieter.

“I don’t care if it’s the dress. Or that one hoodie you still own from middle school—even though it has that weird stain. Or my shirt. Or a trash bag. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. You’re what makes everything look good.”

You finally let out a breath.

His hands fall back to your waist, fingers curling lightly at the fabric there, holding onto you steadily. Grounding you.

“You’re allowed to feel off. I get it. But just know—if you still want to go, I’m gonna be the proudest guy in that restaurant. Because I’m walking in with you.”

A beat.

“And if you don’t—I’ll be even prouder to eat takeout on this bed with my perfect, stunning girlfriend.”

You finally smile.

It’s small. Little shaky. But there.

You sigh.

“…Let me try it with my strappy heels instead.”

Jake grins. Your smile grows softly as he presses a soft kiss to your temple—then another to your cheek for good measure.

“Take your time, baby. Being fashionably late is our thing anyways.”

He squeezes your hand once before you stand up to dig through your closet, his eyes still watching you with the same awe he always has since day one.

You still feel a little off.

But—

You also feel seen. Steady.

And loved.

no doubt m. list

tag list pt 1!: @bluxjun @ki2rins @why-did-i-just-do-this @favoritten @lovialymisc @xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaah @hinryh @ltfirecracker @lov4hoon @taeheexx @niyzu @chunkzdeluluwife @jakeflvrz @fangirl125reader @0429jw @dreamy-carat @yuons @thestarinstarbucks @miszes @llearlert @ppeachyttae @hoomin10 @teddybeartaetae @tanisha2060 @therealmrsbahng @beomgyu-bears @ikeulove @jiyeons-closet @youngheejay @wxnderingthoughts @fuevrois @soobundle1009 @isoobie @enhypenova @zoemeltigloos @lizdevorak @deluluscenarios @bloomiize @hasuyv @ijustwannareadstuff20 @heekolazz @dreamiestay @jakeyyyjakexoxo

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hoonjaykeficsrec · 3 days ago

Text

Okay I admit it. I'm going through my fluff Jake phase 🙏🙏😩😩 this is sooo cuteeeeeeeeee 🤍🤍🤍

𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗖 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗

𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖱───69O ៸៸ dad jake x readerㅤㅤ✦ㅤㅤfluff, humourㅤㅤ﹙◜ᴗ⁠◝⁠﹚ㅤㅤfor junify junikeu catjuni @yuons i love you my goat

jake is on a mission.

he looks at his dear, ever so cute, daughter with a more determined expression. he is holding her tiny hands in his with utmost care and tenderness, giving them a light squeeze.

“c’mon, princess, say it— pa-pa,” he can feel you sigh and shake your head from a distance but jake doesn’t give up. he never does. “you can do it,”

and she does it again— fixing her big adorable eyes on him while tilting her head slightly to the right. her cheeks are the cutest and her lips are in a curious pout, as if trying to discern his words.

jake almost cries again, she looks way too cute to be real.

another sigh falls off your lips. your husband is determined, you know he is salty because she refuses to call him papa on demand even though he tries to act otherwise. “let her be, jake. she’s going to do it at her own pace,”

“but she said it just now!” he retorts almost instantly, as if he is desperate. there’s a pout on his face too, you know exactly where your daughter gets her cuteness from. “i want to hear it again—” he looks at her again, gathering his hopes again. “—you’re going to do it for, papa. right, angel? pa-pa, say it,”

a second passes, then another.

she giggles, shoving her bunny plushie in his face and gosh, jake wants to sob his eyes out. his daughter, his little princess, the other love of his life ( well, because you are first ) is refusing to call him papa— his life is over.

the moment is interrupted when the door opens and your eyes light up at the sight of your five year old son in sunghoon’s arms, who hurriedly wriggles out of his hold and runs up to you.

sunghoon, on the other hand, makes his way to your husband, crouching in front of your daughter, mirroring jake. “hi, cutie pie,”

“shut up, hoon. she’s learning something important and you’re distracting her,” sunghoon scoffs in amusement and jake goes back to the tiny human in front of him, pressing a kiss on her hand. “say papa, you can do it, munchkin,”

it’s like clockwork, really. jake’s entire life comes down to this moment— and sunghoon’s too, because he is just as ingrossed as your husband.

your daughter blinks at the two pairs of eyes staring at her and she opens her mouth. she looks at her father intently and he can see the gears turning in her head. he almost jumps in excitement, cupping her cheeks and all. “almost there, sweetheart! pa-pa, say it,”

he spells out every syllable, doing very exaggerated lip movements— just anything that helps her say that magic word.

even you are intrigued now, watching her small hands grip the plushie. she is trying, almost overwhelmed by all the attention being on her. and then a quiet, soft sound rolls off her tongue. “h...hoom,”

jake crashes out for the fourth time that day.

#enhypen #enhypen fics #jake #jake fics #he's a girl dad for sure

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heestruck · 2 days ago

Text

Bad Desire ; Lee Heeseung [TEASER]

synopsis ; It was never meant to be more than a secret. But between late night kisses, and everything they never said, she fell harder than she should have. And he let her. Now they’re both left chasing something that was never built to last.

In which y/n and heeseung's paths probably shouldn't have collided. with his raging addiction, and her undying love for him, they navigate their way through a love that was never meant to last... or was it?

pairing ; student!fem reader x addict!heeseung

genre ; smut, angst

warnings ; drug use, and lots of it, emotional abuse, lying, kinda cheating if you squint, gaslighting, p in v smut, slight drug glorification, heeseung and reader kinda don't like each other at first, arguing, heeseungs kinda a dick, they yell at each other sometimes, let me know if i'm missing anything

do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable. minors do not interact. there is a lot of heavy themes in this fic, so please read the warnings carefully before reading.

wc ; tbd

release date ; july 4th, 2025

teaser under the cut !

The bathroom reeks of bleach, stale smoke, and whatever cheap cologne the guy before them doused himself in. Heeseung wipes his nose with the back of his hand, sniffing once, slow and deep. The burn is already fading, replaced with the familiar clarity and a weightless buzz under his skin.

Outside the door, the music thrums like a second heartbeat. Sunghoon leans against the wall, arms crossed, a lazy smirk on his lips. “You know one day your brain’s gonna just leak out your nose, right?” Heeseung shrugs, eyes half-lidded. “Better out than rotting in there.” Jay laughs, pulling the door open to let the sound of the party spill in again. “You two sound like you’ve had this conversation before.” There’s a pause as the two exchange a glance. “We have,” Sunghoon says. “Every time he does something dumb.” His words accompanied by an eye-roll that comes to him naturally, “Which is often,” Heeseung adds with a grin, snagging the cigarette tucked behind Sunghoon’s ear and lighting it like it’s his.

They step out, smoke trailing behind them, the heat and noise of the party rushing in all at once. Heeseung’s eyes flick lazily over the crowd, bodies pressed too close, red cups in every hand, neon lights catching on sequins and sweat. Sunghoon elbows him. “You gonna dance tonight, or just brood in the corner like Batman again?” “I’ll dance when hell freezes and you get laid,” Heeseung mutters, exhaling smoke through his nose. “Ouch,” Sunghoon says with a mock wince. “Low blow. Even for you.”

Jay doesn’t laugh.

He’s staring at something, no, someone. Eyes locked across the room, jaw slightly slack, like he forgot how to act. Heeseung catches it immediately. “Dude,” he says flatly. “You good?” Jay doesn’t respond, causing Heeseung to follow his gaze. She’s standing with a group of girls near the kitchen, laughing at something, her drink cradled in one hand. Her hair catches the light, eyes wide and sparkling in that way that’s too fucking pure for this place. Black jeans. Black top. Sweet face, too clean for the party grit.

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ, stop staring at her like a fucking perv.” Jay finally snaps out of it. “She’s just… I don’t know, man. She’s got—”

“What?” Heeseung cuts in, tone biting. “That good girl trying to be bad energy? The innocent preppy type who probably says ‘sorry’ when she bumps into furniture?” Sunghoon snorts. Jay shrugs, unfazed. “She’s cute.”

“She’s boring,” Heeseung says immediately, taking another drag. “Can already tell. Probably straight-A’s, runs on caffeine and validation, thinks this party is some edgy detour in her perfect little life plan.”

“You got all that from one look?” Sunghoon raises a brow. “I’ve seen that type before,” Heeseung mutters. “They don’t stay.” Jay watches her again. “Still wouldn’t mind finding out.” Heeseung doesn’t reply, but his eyes linger just a little too long this time. Something about her smile makes him twitch. Like she doesn’t belong here, and for some reason, that pisses him off more than anything else.

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adult-kinda · 2 days ago

Text

#NeedThat

Warnings: idol! Sunghoon, gf! Fem Reader, suggestive, smut references, yeah this is obviously based on his Weverse post

In which you are down bad for Sunghoon…

You were pretty discreet. The guys thought you and Sunghoon made a great couple because you matched each other’s energies. Most of the time he read your mind so you never had to say too much. But online you were different.

So maybe you weren’t the most discreet behind the wall of pixels. Your comments under Weverse posts and TikToks were no-holds-bar. Like any other thirsty engene your comments held some random fantasies and thought that were probably best in a diary somewhere, with a lock. And the worst part, Sunghoon finally caught on.

It was a really good gym day. Him and Jay hit arms together and the pump was solid. The dopamine was high and his muscles were looking pretty good. So of course he thought to casually post a mirror pic flexing a bit. Why not? Engenes would love it and it boosted his ego just enough.

He posted and casually scrolled through comments. For the most part the comments were pretty standard; the typical “marry me Sunghoon” and “oml so fineee” as well as other comments with entirely too many vowels added to the words. Nothing stood out all the comments were the typical cute and thirst comments.

Then he came across the account Hoonie’sWifey111703. It caught him off guard because that was your birthday. Of course you would have a Weverse account, but surely this could be anyone. Sunghoon couldn’t have just casually found your account amongst the millions of fans. So he did some research while in the car heading to your place. And boom, on Engene selca day there was your photo. Bingo. Sunghoon smirked when he scrolled through your comments. Yeah, he was gonna get real annoying.

The moment the door opened you smiled. You were so excited for Sunghoon to come back from gym because you were craving affection from him. Oh your poor oblivious mind.

“Hi Hoonie!” You greeted with a smile.

Sunghoon held that smug little smile and walked over to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Hi baby.”

“How was your workout?”

“Oh nothing crazy.” He started as he went over to the kitchen. “Lift was good and everything. I posted on Weverse.”

You nodded and bit your lip thinking about the post. “I saw.”

“I know.”

That made you turn around from the couch to look at him. You were confused. What did he mean by saying that he knows?

“Hm?” You questioned.

Sunghoon smirked and looked at you from the kitchen island. “Yeah, I saw a couple of interesting comments on my posts. Stuff like ‘I’m talking ‘bout in it’ and ‘raw next question.’ You know anything about that?”

You blushed red. There was no way he found your account out of all the fans he has. Even though your face gave it away you shook your head no.

Sunghoon chuckled and took out his phone. “See I thought you’d say that. So I took some screenshots of these comments. Let’s read them, yeah?”

“Hoonie you don’t-“No let’s look at them together! Since it’s not you this should be whatever.” He said as he walked over to sit with you on the couch.

“Let’s see, we have ‘until the gynecologist knows it’s him,’ very creative by the way. Then there’s ’Niagara Falls in my pants rn.’ This one’s from a few months ago, it says ‘Tiffany is nothing compared to this necklace’ that one might be my favorite.”

You shoved him and Sunghoon just laughed. You were so flustered. Never in your years of dating Sunghoon did you think he would’ve found your account. Yet here you were sitting on your shared couch while your idol boyfriend read off your thirsty ass comments.

“Enough!” You shouted.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes and kissed your cheek. “Why’re you so embarrassed? Of course you’d have an account nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You huffed and crossed your arms ignoring the feeling between your legs. “Boy leave me alone. How’d you even know it’s me?”

“The username has your birthday and you posted of selfie day. And I’m flattered that you’re so public about being my wifey!” He said with a smile.

If the universe would just listen and open up the ground for you! This is the prime moment to just sink into the earth’s core. The last thing you needed in your world was your boyfriend noticing your comments on his various Weverse posts.

“You know which one is my recent favorite?” He asked.

You looked at him with those eyes that screamed I’m annoyed get tf away from me. But that didn’t sway the idol.

“You commented #NeedThat. Do you need it, baby?” He teased.

You pursed your lips and turned away from him. But Sunghoon wasn’t having it.

“Nuh-uh. You don’t get to be shy now, baby. You were so open and nasty in those comments, what changed?”

Sunghoon brought an arm around your waist and kissed down your jawline and neck.

“Don’t know why you waste your time on those comments anyway. You’ve got the real thing right here. You need that? Well I’m right here. Take it.”

His words were impacting you more than you’d like to admit. But even if you didn’t say anything your body was going to. Those legs Sunghoon loved so much started to part subtly and your breathing pattern was off. He smirked knowing what he was doing to you.

“Come on baby. Admit it was you and I’ll do anything you want. I’ll make my hands a necklace for you. I’ll put you in that headlock you want so badly. Hell I’ll make you cum so hard your doctors will know exactly who you belong to.” Sunghoon teased as his lips created hickeys all over your neck.

You let out a frustrated huff and nodded. “Yes it’s me! Damn it Sunghoon take me to the bedroom!”

He chuckled and stood up. Sunghoon tossed you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing as you giggled your way to the shared bedroom.

Yes Sunghoon was an idol. He had fans around the globe and of course his comments were going to be thirsty. But you? He was going to make sure you had no need to leave comments ever again. You got the real thing every day, all you had to do was ask and take it.

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ceramini · 3 hours ago

Text

THEN DONT 人 sjy

𝟏𝟑𝟕𝟖𝒾 ──── loser!jake f!rea ✿ angst & smut ᵕ ᵕ blow job, riding, based on this ask ❞ 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑹𝒀 ｡ ⠀

REBLOG FOR A KISS !? ʕ´ ᩙᩙ ` ʔ

Jake doesn’t mean to overhear it.

He’s just in the hallway, minding his own business, looking for you, actually—when he hears the voices. Familiar ones. People he knows. People you love.

He freezes when he hears his name.

“I mean, yeah, Jake’s sweet and all,” someone says with a shrug. “But don’t you think she could do better?”

He doesn’t breathe.

“I always thought she’d end up with someone… I don’t know. More put-together. More confident. He’s like a lost puppy most days.”

There’s laughter. It’s not malicious. Not sharp. But it cuts Jake anyway. Deep.

He doesn’t stay to hear the rest.

The feeling follows him. Clings to his ribs and gnaws at his throat like guilt.

You don’t say anything when he curls into your side that night and holds you tighter than usual. When he kisses your shoulder instead of your lips. When he pulls away before you can touch him.

You always assumed Jake was clingy because he was horny or needy or soft. But sometimes it’s because he’s scared.

Scared you’ll leave.

Scared someone better will come along and you’ll finally realize he’s nothing but a sad, annoying, insecure boy who likes Legos too much and cries too easily.

A few days pass.

He doesn’t bring it up.

He tries to act normal. Happy. Like his brain isn’t chewing him alive with doubts. He makes stupid jokes, buys you snacks, plays with your hair in bed until you fall asleep on his chest.

But the pit in his stomach only grows.

And then it gets worse.

Jake’s lying in bed with you one lazy afternoon, head on your lap, when your phone buzzes. You ignore it at first—too caught up in rubbing little shapes over his temples, humming some random tune, but he notices.

You’ve got a lot of DM requests.

When you finally go to check one, Jake sees it.

Not the message, but the sender. The profile pic. A verified account.

A face Jake remembers from weeks ago; a party you dragged him to, where he sat awkwardly in the corner nursing a Sprite while you chatted and laughed and looked so effortlessly you.

He remembers that guy talking to you. Tall. Perfect smile. Designer shirt. Confident in that smooth, cocky way Jake could never be.

His chest tightens.

He doesn’t say anything. Just makes a mental note. Later that night, when you’re asleep, Jake opens Instagram and searches the guy’s username. And of course, it’s bad.

He’s gorgeous. One of those guys who looks like he knows he’s gorgeous. Shirtless gym selfies. Thousands of likes. Flirty captions. Comments full of girls. Jake scrolls for way too long, each post punching a little deeper into his gut.

He looks at his own profile after. Blurry mirror selfies. You in the background of half of them, making fun of his camera angle. His follower count isn’t even close.

He shuts his phone off and stares at the ceiling.

Why are you with him?

Why him, when you could have that?

He gets quiet again.

You notice.

“Jake,” you nudge him on the couch. “Why’re you all droopy?”

“M’not.”

“Liar. You’ve been weird.”

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes. “Just tired.”

He’s not. He hasn’t slept properly in days.

But what is he supposed to say?

“Hey, I stalked one of the hot guys in your DMs and now I feel like crawling into a hole and dying because I will never be good enough for you?”

He doesn’t want to sound pathetic.

So he smiles instead. The weak kind.

You frown. “You sure?”

He tries to lighten the mood.

“I mean, it’s not like you don’t have a thousand guys in your inbox dying to take my place.”

You snort. “Jake.”

“I’m serious. I saw a few. Some of them were hot.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Jealous?”

He shrugs again. “Maybe.”

“Well, I’m with you, dummy. So what does it matter?”

He laughs, quiet, breathless. “Yeah… sometimes I don’t even know why you are.”

You roll your eyes and swat his arm. “God, I don’t even know why I’m dating you sometimes.”

You mean it as a joke. Obviously. But the second it leaves your mouth, you feel the shift.

Jake goes still. His smile fades. His face falls. Something breaks behind his eyes, quick and silent and devastating.

And then, softly—

“…Whatever.”

You blink. “Jake—”

He stands, brushing your hand off his leg. Doesn’t look at you. “I’m gonna go build for a bit.”

Your heart sinks. “What?”

“I’ll be in my collection room.”

The door closes behind him before you can say anything else.

You sit there for a while, stunned. Confused. Guilt blooming like a bruise across your chest. You didn’t mean it. It was just a throwaway line. Something stupid. Something Jake normally laughs off.

But this time—he didn’t.

You wait ten minutes. Then twenty.

You try knocking.

No response.

So you go get the box from the closet. The new Lego set—the one he’s been talking about for weeks. The one you secretly ordered and saved up for. A rare one. He’d been rambling about it all month.

You crack the door open, peeking inside.

“Jake?”

He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, a half-built model in front of him, but he’s not moving. Not building. Just staring.

You step inside quietly, holding the box.

“I got you something.”

No response.

“It’s the Galaxy Explorer set. The vintage re-release. Remember?”

Silence.

You set it down gently beside him. Still nothing. You kneel in front of him, heart twisting. “Jake…”

He blinks up at you slowly. Eyes dull.

“You’re not gonna open it?”

He shrugs.

And that’s when it hits you. He’s not just upset. He’s hurting. Like, deeply. Broken in a way Jake almost never lets you see.

Your chest caves in.

“Jake,” you whisper, crawling into his lap. “Come on. You’re the best boyfriend—”

“I’m your only boyfriend,” he mutters, eyes downcast. “How can you say the best when there’s no one to compare to?”

Your throat closes.

“I was joking,” you say quickly. “Baby, I swear—” He doesn’t answer. You feel the tears in your own eyes now.

“I’m not good at this,” you whisper. “At being soft. Or saying how I feel. You know that. But Jake—fuck, you’re everything to me. I don’t want anyone else. I can’t. You’re the only thing in this world that makes me feel safe. And stupid. And warm. And real.”

You’re babbling. Desperate. Pulling at his hoodie until you’re straddling him fully, pressing your forehead to his.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur. “Even when you’re sad. Even when you cry. Especially then.”

Jake closes his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek. You kiss it away. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He swallows. “You didn’t mean to.”

“I know. But I still did.” You kiss him softly. And again. And again. Then lower. Down his neck. To his chest. To his stomach.

You kneel between his legs, hands trembling as you tug his sweatpants down. “Let me show you,” you whisper.

And then you take him into your mouth, slow and reverent, like you’re praying. Jake gasps, hips jerking, hands flying to your hair. But you don’t rush. You worship. Licking and sucking, moaning around him just so he knows how much you love it. How much you love him.

He starts crying again—quiet and raw—and you don’t stop. You let him fall apart while you give him all the softness you usually hold back. When he cums, it’s with a broken sob of your name.

And when you crawl back into his lap, he holds you like he’ll never let go. You ride him slowly, tearfully, kissing every inch of his face.

“Jake,” you breathe. “Jake, I love you. I’m sorry. You’re everything to me. I’m never leaving. I swear. I swear.”

He doesn’t speak. Just holds your waist and cries silently, thrusting up into you like it’s the only thing tethering him to the earth. And when you both finish, shaking, clinging, crying into each other’s mouths, you don’t move.

You stay like that. One trembling mess of love and fear and forgiveness.

TAGLIST ࿀ ׁ @gxwesn @gyarumindd @somuchdard @ssanhwatto @jinxedly @seokjinthescientist @hoonprksung @eunvyue @kkxheeluv @enhawonnie @ghost-of-minnie @underscorealastor @yazmike @tokkisluv

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shra-vasti · 2 days ago

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1k notes? My first baby to reach this milestone! Thank you everyone for taking your time to read this, I love you all♡♡

DESIRE: UNLEASH, UNRAVEL, UNMASK, SJY

SYNOPSIS: When you are assigned as a psychiatric nurse in a quiet, unsettling and remote town, you expected lonesome, boredom even, and not the creeping sense that something was wrong. Then you are asked to temporarily monitor Sim Jake, a long term patient, when his regular nurse takes sudden leave. At first he's just another case for you, then you started noticing strange behaviors unfolding within the hospital walls, and now you're not just questioning your patient's mental state, you begin to question what's real, what's hidden and if you're turly safe.

• PAIRING: Sim Jaeyun x Psych nurse afab!reader

• WORD COUNT: 20k

• CONTENT TAGS: Non idol au, hospital settings, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, patient x nurse dynamics, forbidden romance core, mental illness (refer warnings section), suggestive, reader-insert, sorry attempt at writing a medical based au (I'm not a medical student so please forgive me), reader is always confused the tf out of her mind, not proofread.

• WARNINGS: MDNI, Antisocial Personality Disorder, violence, stalking, breaking in, paranoia, reader faints a couple of times, mentions of blood and injuries, mentions of restraints, mental breakdown, manipulation, coercion, fear of abandonment (not reader), kidnapping, borderline yandere behavior, violation of rules and personal boundries, aggressive and obsessive behavior, stealing, making out, dry humping, needy reader, let me know if I need to add any<3

• AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm really not sure about this one but I hope you guys will enjoy it. This is a work of fiction and whatever is happening is happening for the plot. In no way I am trying to depict how an actual psych hospital works in this fanfic, it's more of a vague setting to build up the plot. Your comments, reblogs and ask would mean so much to me. Thank you for giving so much love to my previous work, hope you will like this one too. Happy reading♡♡

You stepped outside of the train station, head held high, eyes hidden behind sunglasses that barely hung on your face. The strap of your backpack slipped off your shoulder ruining your nonchalant persona in the blink of an eye. Adjusting it back you stood right in the middle of the road searching for any sign of life, the town was so quiet you could even hear a pin drop. The street lights flickering on and off like they were sponsored by your bad decisions. You look around, trying to spot a ride to your new apartment. The place felt like it was straight out of Miley Cyrus's Party in the USA music video, but an emotionally constipated version. You swore you even saw a single dried leaf flowing along with the dust across the road from your peripheral vision.

You leaned your weight on your right leg, hands on your hips as you took in your surroundings. It's understandable that it was evening but not even a single soul could be seen in your near vicinity. It wasn't even dark yet. The only human interaction you had after stepping foot on this worn-out town was with the maintenance worker who gave you a nasty side-eye when you crossed paths with him and the old man sitting inside the ticket counter who maintained eye contact with you till you were out of his sight.

You grunt, making your way back inside the station to interrogate the ticket counter. He looked at you up and down through his frameless glasses, folding his hands comically slow before heaving a sigh. You tapped your foot in sheer annoyance, he decided to finally bless you with some words of wisdom and direct you towards a local diner located not too far from the station. You threw a tight smile at him, dramatically making a turn and off you went towards the diner.

The local diner's neon sign buzzed half heartedly, you nodded solemnly at its state, the poor thing looked like it gave up on life ages ago but was still showing up for work because of money. It almost reminded you of your nursing school days, where you would show up to school regularly just because you paid the tuition fee in advance. You ran your fingers through your hair, huffing a breath, at least you could hear human voices from inside.

"Hello, is anyone there?" You did the best you could to bring out your practiced cheerful voice when you opened the diner's door, grinning like you're trying to sell toothpaste. The cashier, a middle aged bald man with a mustache, and a relatively younger boy, locked you in place with a deadpan face and eyes staring with premium disinterest. "Unfortunately, yes." You made your way inside, removing your sunglasses as you approached them. The smile wiping off your face faster than the wifi signal during zoom meetings.

"Does this place have any cab or bus facility? The person at the ticket counter sent me here." You awkwardly tapped against the counter waiting for their reply. Both of them exchanged glances at each other before they focused right back on you. And, now, somehow you were second guessing ever agreeing to come in this ghost of a town. "You're new here?" Now it was your turn to fix them with a deadpan look, "Unfortunately, yes." The younger guy sighed at your words, making his way towards you.

"You came here on purpose?" He raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes taking in the luggage beside you. You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, hands on your hips as you were left baffled by the sheer judgemental tone of his voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" The old man just shook his head and went behind the door, leaving you standing there alone with the boy.

He shrugged in response, leaning against the counter. A small smirk appeared on his face, "No one really comes to this town, considering there's literally nothing to attract any entity. The town is small, location so far off no one gives a fuck about it." You just sighed, dragging your feet towards a chair and slouching against it. "What brought you here anyway?"

You massaged your head a bit, perplexed at the situation you've gotten yourself into. Your mind drifting back towards the questionable choices you made before you ended up being assigned to be a psychiatric nurse located in a place you haven't even heard about. "I'm here to work as a nurse at Second chance psychiatric hospital." His eyes widened in surprise before a toothy smile graced at his lips. "Oh you'll be working with my friend Sunoo."

You gave him a tight look, clearly having zero idea about this Sunoo guy he was referring to. He ignored your obvious disinterest and sat on the chair beside you. "I'm Jungwon, I work here because I have nothing else to do. The guy I'm talking about is also a nurse at the hospital you're joining." That gained your interest as you turned towards him, "Help me go to my apartment, I've morning duty tomorrow." He beamed at you, nodding before making his way inside a room and coming back later with his apron off. "Let's go!"

"You're dropping me off?" He grabbed your luggage like it was made of thin air and made his way out of the diner. You just looked at him, not making a move to stop him cause honestly you were glad he was chivalrous enough to do that. You were as good as Macdonald's ice cream machine to even argue about moving your own luggage. You ran after him as he made his way towards his beat up car, your legs falling in rhythm with his as you told him your name.

You reached the apartment the hospital's staff had given you information about. You made your arrangements and agreements with the owner a few weeks prior. For which you mentally gave a pat on your back because the apartment was pre-cleaned for you. You thanked Jungwon, he waved it off saying everyone knows everyone in his ghost town to help anyway, and made your way up the stairs to unlock the door. You punched in the code you'd set through your mobile app, kinda high-tech to have such security given the conditions of the town, you made your way inside the apartment.

You set your luggage aside, deciding that unpacking was inevitably going to be a problem for tomorrow. You freshened up, throwing yourself on your bed as flashbacks for today's event slid through your mind like a scheduled Tumblr post. This town contained a type of quiet that felt like the universe had hit a forgotten password button, left isolated and on its own to function, except instead of bringing peace with the isolation, it just gave off a serious 'what's wrong with it' vibes. Basically this town was a kind of place where even the squirrels look like they are plotting world domination.

Sleep comes easily when all you did the entire day was travel and struggle, rinse and repeat. Waking up on the other hand was a struggle you didn't realize you'd face on literally the first day of your job. You sat on the edge of the bed, eyes empty, motivation still buffering. It wasn't until your second alarm went off that you finally broke out of your daydreaming and got ready to go to the hospital. You know how much struggle you put up with your will to live every morning, so you know how to deal with that too.

You found yourself back to the same situation you were in when you stood in front of the local diner, now looking up to the rusting, 'Second Chance Psychiatric Hospital' sign barely hanging above the main entrance, threatening to fall but still somehow keeping it together. You pushed open the gate, the loudly squeaky noise of the metal gate raising goosebumps on your skin. You physically crumpled at the noise, gaining looks from a few of the staff and patients spread across the entrance of the hospital and its surrounding area. You meekly smiled at them as you continued making your way towards the hospital's door, their eyes hardly leaving yours. What's up with people of this town and the constant staredown competition they engage themselves into?

The exterior of the hospital was painted blue, almost fading, getting drowned by veils of climbers and creepers you don't want to learn about. The front yard was draped with dead leaves which had fallen on the ground like the hope you had when you were assigned to this hospital. You sighed heavily, decided to turn around and take in the state this hospital was in. It sure looked like a type of psychiatric hospital you'd hope to see in a horror movie. What were you going to tell your friends back home? Second chance? More like Secondhand misery on your part.

Stepping through the glass doors which barely sensed your presence (you had to give them a bit of manual labour) you were met with a waiting room which silently screamed at you to leave. Rusty chairs, mandatory fish tank with no fishes but a suspicious looking worn out castle inside it, few statues which had more cracks on their surface than you had on your phone screen. You made your way towards the reception area, not entirely surprised to find the receptionist having the time of her life in her sleep. You lightly banged on the surface of the counter to get her attention. She woke up agonizingly slow, looking like she had seen too much and was running purely on instant coffee and bad choices. She didn't even look surprised, yawning as she pulled out a form and slammed it against the counter in front of you. You looked at her, completely at loss. "I'm a new nurse here, not a patient."

"Oh?" She gave you a wary look, eyebrows furrowed as if she'd heard something she shouldn't have. You rummaged through your bag, huffing slightly as you handed her your joining letter. Her eyes widened when she verified your details, sighing in resignation as she typed in something on her computer. You stood there, watching her fill out your details in the staff registry, expressions on her face changing like the slideshow of a presentation you made when you were in sixth grade. "I just need to understand," she started, giving you the joining letter back, she briefly made an eye contact and you nodded at her to continue, "what life crisis led to this?"

"Should I be worried? Why does everyone keep on asking me this question?" You were starting to believe you hit the wrong subscribe button at this point. This town was sketchy, far off the map, with zero to limited amount of transportation, every single place in this town gave off vibes of bad decisions and pure paranoia combined. The receptionist waved your concern off, getting out of the reception area, sliding her hand around your shoulder and pushing you towards the staircase leading to the first floor.

"The patients on the ground floor are usually handled by seasoned nurses, fresh meat like you are assigned on the first floor to deal with patients with reduced care demands who have less complex cases." She explained as she stopped you in front of a door, labeled Dr. Byeon Hyunwoo, knocked three times and left you in your misery. Your eyes followed her till she was out of your sight, not moving an inch, mind malfunctioning. It wasn't until you heard a very awkward and intended cough that you got out of whatever trance you were into. "Would you like to come in?"

"Yes, I'm sorry." You followed him in his personal office, the condition inside of it surprisingly much better than the entire hospital. He invited you to take a seat, smiling curtly you sat in front of him. He was clad in white coat which seemed to have seen quite a few things. The wrinkles on his face are a clear indication of his expertise. He smiled at you asking questions about your whereabouts since you arrived. You'd be working under him along with a few other attending physicians and nurses. You learned he's the director of the hospital, which immediately led you to straighten your back in response. Overall you were happy to finally interact with someone who was so humanly mediocre.

Before you could open the office door a soft creak heard from outside the door halted your steps in place, followed by faintest movements of shadow flickering from the bottom gap of the door. You sighed, opening the door quicker than the lightening speed and watched three heads stumbled across the office. They bumped into each other like dominoes, frantically trying to find their footing. Then successfully stood right in front of you, awkward smiles plastered on their faces. You turned around to look at Dr. Byeon only to realize he wasn't even slightest bit interested in what was happening in his office, so begrudgingly you shut the door behind you.

You took in the sight of them, the receptionist from earlier, another girl with short hair and then the taller guy who sheepishly smiled at you, his foxy eyes turning into crescent moon as soon as they met yours, then came the classic move, 'the awkward cough' as they looked at each other to telepathically discuss who'll be the first sacrifice. You could feel the 'we weren't trying to listen' vibes radiating off of them like wifi signals. Honestly, the entire moment of catching them eavesdropping on you and Dr. Byeon was awkwardly theatrical.

"A little birdy told me we have a new nurse, we were too excited to wait," the guy smiled cheekily at you and despite your better judgement his energy brought a laugh out of you. Three of them exchanged looks before the guy grabbed your wrist and dragged you towards a cabin at the left side of Dr. Byeon's office. He informed the cabin on the right side is for the physicians. The cabin where you were dragged to was a bit larger than Dr. Byeon's, probably because it was for the use of multiple people.

"Is the little birdy Ms. Receptionist?" You chuckled as you roamed around the cabin till you placed your belongings in an empty area. The guy religiously shook his head making his way towards you, extending his hand, "the little birdy is Yang Jungwon, my friend, he informed me a new nurse was joining." You shook his hand with a puzzled look on your face which then turned into a happy one when you recognized the name, "Jungwon? The diner guy?" The fox eyed guy threw his head back, laughing. "Yes, that one."

Your interaction was cut short when the short haired girl came from the other side and clung to your arm, "I'm Yerin, your fellow nurse. Then this guy, who didn't have a basic courtesy to introduce his name first is Kim Sunoo, also a nurse and the lady standing there is Jia, our receptionist." She smiled softly at you before letting go and dragging Jia where you and Sunoo were standing. "We knew you would be joining but we assumed just like many other staff you'll ghost us too, we really didn't expect you to show up." You nodded at Jia, understanding what was up with all the questionnaire and glances but her words left you with a plethora of questions.

"Is the reason they ghost because of the very obvious suspicious location or is this place that horrific that no one wants to stay?" You all sat around each other, "and don't you have to go back to the reception area in case someone comes?" Jia just laughed at your question, waving you off yet again, she explained how the hospital rarely gets a new patient to be admitted so everything is chill.

"Okay, now back to your earlier question," Sunoo looked at you with his big eyes as he clapped his hands to get your attention towards him, "honestly I think the main reason is the location itself, you get to learn many things, have hands on experiences and everything but it's a small town, nothing much to explore, plus this town gives a little bit of icky vibes so that adds to everything else." Little bit icky vibes? More like a movie setup for a budget horror film.

They gave you instructions about the working of the hospital, Jia bidding you goodbye to continue with her work at the reception, Yerin helped you with printing out your schedule, and Sunoo brought your uniform scrub and ID card. You changed into your scrub, and wore your ID card, smiling in the bathroom mirror to officially start your journey as the nurse. While talking with Sunoo and Yerin you learned that Jia has been working here for 7 years, Yerin for 2 years and Sunoo just joined 4 months ago. "Jia looks younger for someone who worked for 7 years," you wondered out loud, Sunoo nodded, "She was very young when she joined here, she was in need of money and the hospital needed someone desperate enough to do the job." You pondered over his words, he suggested giving you a quick and vague hospital tour before you ask any more questions.

The hospital's air smelled faintly like a mix of antiseptic, rubbing alcohol and existential crisis. You wondered if you'll become one of the patients of this sorry excuse of a hospital if it continues to give off these weird vibes even after working here for months. While you were walking down the hall of the first floor, somewhere a door squeaked dramatically, as if to assert its dominance and make its presence known. Sunoo just shook his head, laughing slightly and mumbling about how you'll get used to it.

The walk through the first floor was easy, uneventful but insightful regardless. You'd be working on this floor for a good portion of your work, so you hung onto every word that left Sunoo's mouth. He suggested you shadow either him or Yerin for the first half of the day so you could get a hang of how everything works, and you were glad for his regards. He gave you a tour of the therapy room, which was further divided into group, individual, occupational, art/music and recreational units. You met a few patients of the general ward Sunoo was assigned for the day, realizing it will take some time for them to get comfortable with your presence. You didn't mind their rejection towards you, considering you chose this field by your own wish to help the socially marginalized individuals of the society.

He then led you towards the ground floor, the stairs creaking below your feet. Jia looked up from where she was sitting at the corner smiling, you gave her a wave with the same level of enthusiasm. One side of the ground floor was filled with medical and support facilities like; consultation rooms, medication rooms, emergency care rooms, and pharmacy. Behind the reception area had a lounge area, dining area, and bathrooms. Aside from the rusting chairs in the waiting area, you spotted a vending machine from the 90s functioning on duct tape and sheer will, and a wall clock permanently stuck at 03:33; well at least it shows correct time twice a day, truly an overachiever.

The other side of the ground floor was what seemed to pull your gaze back at it, time and again. The large 'Intensive Care Psychiatric Unit' sign glaring at you in red, the hallway was dark even in broad daylight, shadows clung to the walls as you walked towards it. Sunoo stopped you from going further when you reached near the entrance of the patient's wards. "New nurses aren't allowed to enter this area, only the veteran nurses are allowed. You'll need to get your ID card updated with access to this area to enter."

Your eyes were trained on the hallway, the longer you looked at it, the heavier the air felt as if something was waiting for you to dare to indulge in it. You turned your head towards Sunoo, gulping slightly, "Are the patients that volatile?" Sunoo shrugged his eyes scanning the hallway which he never once entered in his 4 months of working here. "Maybe they are, I haven't seen any special case or event with my own eyes since I've worked here but I've heard stories."

He gave you a tight smile before urging you to follow him to continue the rest of the touring, and as you nodded your head at him in agreement you felt something move, barely visible, a shadow. A nameless fear settled in your chest, sending sharp, cold ripple down your spine. You couldn't help but lean against the glass doors to find where the movement came from, but there wasn't a single soul in sight. You flinched when Sunoo called out your name, your steps retracting back towards the waiting area but your mind still hooked towards the ICPU.

Working for the hospital was much better than you had initially imagined, although severely understaffed, the environment of the hospital was thankfully healthy and supportive. Dr. Byeon, albeit strict and a man of few words, always guided you with patience, though sometimes it would wear thin. Patients were reluctant at opening up at first but once you gained their trust, you started enjoying your job more. The patients on the first floor were easier to manage at most, they maintained a sense of self awareness and would be cooperative with the treatment. So you never had to struggle too much while doing your job.

So after several weeks of working in the hospital, and living in this ghost town there were few things which you had gathered. For instance, Dr. Byeon was not only the director but also the co-founder of the hospital, at this point if anyone told you he was also the mayor of this town you wouldn't be surprised. Some of the attending physicians here wore their egos on their sleeves for some reason. There were only two veteran nurses and both of them were assigned duties on the ground floor for ICPU, you found both of them very scary even when they showed nothing about kindness to you when you occasionally crossed paths with them. Patients here, to put in simple words, were here for a reason.

The people of town were, you don't even know how to describe. Earlier when you walked on the uneven and cracked sidewalks, people would smile at you the way they do when you accidentally wave at someone who wasn't waving at you, awkward and suspicious. Even the cats looked at you with that, 'I know what you did last summer' stare. Now they are friendly enough to ask you for a tea and ask about your dating life before you even sit down. Everyone in the town knows about each other, their allergies, their nicknames and the story behind it. Secrets here longed as long as a cough. Still you loved how uneventful and slow it was, or maybe you're just getting Stockholm Syndrome with this town.

"Mrs. Lee's son got into an accident, she left earlier in emergency," You along with Sunoo were huddled around Jia during your break time when you heard about Mrs. Lee, a veteran nurse assigned at ICPU. "Poor her, I've never seen her so worried before, he's her only son." You nodded at Sunoo's words, it wasn't like you could give your 2 cents into the conversation since you knew very little about everything. You wondered how Mrs. Hong was going to handle everything on her own, when Dr. Byeon called you inside his office.

Dr. Byeon opened his door before your fist could even touch it and made his way towards his chair, you peered at him up and down before shrugging and making yourself comfortable in front of his desk chair. He heaved a sigh, adjusting his glasses as he gave you a look that screamed 'help' but in a more professional manner. You smiled awkwardly at him fidgeting in your seat, the more the silence stretched the more difficult it became for you to maintain your commercial smile. "You must have an idea what happened with Mrs. Lee right?"

You reluctantly nodded your head and the way he looked at you made warning bells ring in your ears, "I'll get straight to the point. We are short on staff for ICPU, I was hoping you'd take the responsibility for the meantime." You let out a laugh which sounded like a broken tape record, high-pitched, off-key, powered entirely by denial and borderline fear. As usual, Dr. Byeon patiently waited for you to come down from your high with an expression which lacked all the seasoning and spices. You eventually stopped when you noticed he wasn't laughing with you, you put your head down on his desk.

"What? You'll be taking over Mrs. Lee's duty?" Yerin screeched, you hushed her putting your hand on her mouth. Sunoo just stared at you, looking for more information. "Why would he appoint you though?" He wondered, "Yerin should've been his first choice, you're comparatively new." You glance at him, finally releasing Yerin from your hold, "He said first floor is mainly handled by her so she was out of the picture, and as for you," you jabbed your index finger on his chest till you backed him off against the nearest wall, "he said one time you were allocated to work in ICPU for few hours and you got so scared you turned that place to a disastrous zone in five minutes."

Sunoo gulped, avoiding your eyes like you were terms and conditions, "I...that place is shady! I couldn't help it. The patient who I was tending appeared out of nowhere and touched my feet. I jumped and dropped everything, the patient got triggered and grabbed my hair, then I screamed and Mrs. Lee had to clean up after my mess." You shook your head, slouching against your chair. Sure the ICPU gave off some serious 'don't fuck with me' vibes, but Mrs. Lee and Nurse Hong had survived years of working in that unit outstandingly. You could survive too if you only did what you were told and didn't cause much disturbance in the daily routine of the patient's admitted at that part of the hospital. Plus your legs could use some rest.

When Nurse Hong, a sweet and soft spoken woman, gave you the temporary schedule, you did not expect to have constant rotations in your shift timings. She gave you head pats and a hug, smiling sympathetically at your baffled expression, "I heard a lot of good things about you from Dr. Byeon, I believe you can handle it well. Just be focused on your responsibilities and call for me when trouble arrives okay?" With the amount of softness her voice and eyes contained when she said those words, you'd have said yes to even rob a bank for her. But she was getting old, already had so much on her plate, you decided to be the strong independent woman you've already dreamt of being and handle your issues yourself.

You had always watched the ICPU whenever you talked with Jia on her counter, or whenever you kicked the vending machine to get your energy drink. Your eyes followed that section wherever you were in the near vicinity. The section always called for your attention, maybe it felt that way because you were prohibited from entering that area. A forbidden apple, tempting you to take a bite with its bright red colour. Now you stood in front of the glassdoor which was once a barrier to your curious heart, sweat formed at the palm of your hands, you wiped it on your white coat and placed your ID card over the sensor.

The sensor beeped, the sound sharp and unforgiving, it pierced through your ears. The glassdoor separated and you entered the area. Your hand unconsciously reached for your pen neatly tucked at your scrub's pocket as you forced yourself to take a step forward. The unit was unnaturally quiet, the air suffocating, not with the smell of medications or ethanol, but with the memories. The lights flickered on and off, casting a yellow light on the walls which were once white. The paint peeled off in strange patterns through the hallway. You made your way deeper into the unit, hands tight around the trolley you were moving with you.

The hallway stretched like it had no end, doors lined up each side, differently numbered, all identical, all shut. The hallway carried an uncertain heaviness, like it remembered every scream, every breakdown, every cry for help. You could hear some muffled noise as you made your way further into the hallway, a laugh, a whisper and sometimes a scrape against the wall. Normally, sounds calmed you, grounded you but this time it only increased your heartbeat. Each little noise made you shiver. The wheels of the trolley screeched against the worn out tiles of the hospital as you moved forward, and suddenly silence wrapped around you.

For a moment you had forgotten that you weren't alone, that everyone else could sense your presence too. Being confined into a box makes you overly sensitive towards any sort of noise, it didn't surprise you that everyone inside the rooms could detect the presence of a new person with the sound of your footsteps alone. You moved ahead till you reached the far end of the hallway, room no. 015 glaring back at you. You've heard about the infamous room no. 015 in passing before, something along the lines of too violent, too hysteric, too cruel. You recalled Sunoo telling you something about the patient's history, an outcast, admitted to the hospital by his family who then left the town and never returned.

You gulped, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door to let your presence be known, then sliding in the key. Your eyes studied the room, it was pale, off-white, no decorations. The bed sat at one corner of the room, sheets crisp with practice precision, a single pillow, and a blanket. A chair and fixed desk were placed on the adjacent corner of the bed. A built in light fixture high on the ceiling, out of reach even if one stood on the chair. You made your way towards the window that was covered by off white curtains. You wondered why would there be a window without grill for a patient who was admitted at ICPU. You moved the curtain aside, you could see the security guard's cabin from up here, well you guessed there's no way the patient would try to run without getting noticed.

The slow creaking of the door behind you followed by sudden movements startled you as you turned around, wide-eyed, hands on your chest. You took a deep breath, carefully watching the stranger who stood opposite of you, coming out of the bathroom, steps halted midway, eyes mimicking that of yours. He analyzed your appearance, white coat, boring scrubs, trolley inside the room, hospital's ID card hanging from your neck. His eyes met yours, and you gulped, unconsciously clutching the notepad in your hand, a corner of his lips twitched. "I'm here for your routine check up, is that okay with you?"

The slight tremor at the end of the sentence didn't go unnoticed by him. He studied you for a few seconds before he wordlessly made his way towards the bed and sat on it. You dragged the chair towards his bed, sitting on it promptly as you studied his medical record.

▪︎ Name: Sim Jake

▪︎ Gender: Male

▪︎ Date of Admission: November 16, 2018

▪︎ Diagnosis: Antisocial Personality Disorder

▪︎ Assigned Psychiatrist: Dr. Byeon Hyunwoo

▪︎ Assigned Nurse: Mrs. Lee Siyun

▪︎ Mood/Behavior: Patient appeared withdrawn and agitated

▪︎ Appetite: Normal

▪︎ Interactions: None

▪︎ Agitated/Aggression: High

▪︎ Nurse comments: 1. Patient has shown a recurrent pattern of agitation. 2. Cooperative during check ups though slightly sensitive and annoyed. 3. Extreme shifts in moods.

"How are you feeling?" He clicked his tongue in irritation, leaning back against the bed, "Mrs. Lee?" You looked up, his voice hoarse and rough due to lack of use, full of exhaustion. His eyes were dull, yet sharp as they peered at you. His face was framed by soft, dark hair, a bit messy but it gave him a boyish look. He had a well-defined jawline. He was handsome in a way that made your breath catch without even realizing. You shook your head, keeping your thoughts in check before you looked down at your notes, "she's on leave," you muttered checking the previous notes.

"Irritated." Your eyes shot up as he spoke, his jaw tight and eyebrows furrowed. Your eyebrows knit slightly in confusion before they relaxed realizing he answered your initial question, you noted it. You cleared your throat, "what kind of thoughts are occupying your head today?" He scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest, "nothing important." You sighed at his vague answer wondering if he's the same with Mrs. Lee.

"How do you feel about being here?" You questioned, writing down his previous answer. He scoffed watching you write down what he said word to word, "not thrilled." You sucked in a breath, you have to remain calm for patient's sake, this wasn't even worse but somehow you'd have preferred him lashing out a whole monologue than the single word answers he threw at you. You took out your stethoscope, placing one end of it in your ears, "I'm going to touch you, is that okay?"

He moved a bit closer, "hurry and leave." You rolled your eyes, your hand slipping beneath his shirt, your fingers were steady, practiced as they pressed gently against his chest. You felt his breath hitched before you could detect it through the stethoscope. "Breathe in, hold it." Surprisingly he did what was said, your ears filled with the irregular thump-thump rhythm of his chest. "Breathe out, slowly." Your hand shifted slightly, inspecting another spot. There was no rush, no distraction in your movements as you continued monitoring his heart beat. "Your heartbeat is slightly irregular. Try taking a deep breath slowly a couple of times so it slows down a bit."

The rest of the routine check up went by smoothly, he didn't answer any of your questions verbally, but was cooperative for most part. He showed annoyance but wasn't aggressive. You noted everything, gave him his prescribed medicines, checked his vitals again after taking the medicines, made sure he didn't have any injuries or health concerns and the routine check up for room no. 015 was completed successfully.

A deep breath escaped your chest as soon as the door closed behind you, relief flooded your body like sunshine through a cracked window. Your eyes flickered towards the wrist watch on your hand, lunch time. You informed Nurse Hong about your schedule and made your way out of the ICPU towards the cafeteria after her approval. You spotted Sunoo, Yerin and Jia sitting at the far corner of the cafeteria. "Hey!" Their eyes shot up in your direction, you waved at them before making yourself comfortable beside Jia. "Wow, you look like you could use some chapstick, your lips are drier than your text when you're ignoring me." Your hands immediately reached out to touch your lips, "ah, it's because I kept on biting on it while I was doing my routine check up." You thanked Sunoo when he passed you the chapstick.

"So," Yerin leaned towards you, her expression serious but you could see the underlined lightheartedness behind her doe eyes, "Tell us brave soul, what was it like in the land of darkness?" Sunoo and Jia nodded, huddling around you, "I heard you were assigned the infamous room no. 015." You nodded, leaning back against the chair, digging your food, lost in thoughts but continued, "It was okay, it wasn't as scary as we have heard in the stories, perhaps not scary at all," you studied their confused expression, "he was a bit annoyed, reserved for most part, but he complied. Unlike all the stories we've been hearing from the past."

"Is that true? I was half wondering if I should prepare a strecher for you." Jia smacked Sunoo arms as she hushed him, Yerin turned towards you, "maybe the stories are dramatized and exaggerated in order to keep everyone in check, so that no one would go in the ICPU area, kind of like to protect the patients and not disturb them?" You shrugged looking towards Jia who shook her head at Yerin's words, "I've seen a handful of instances myself where extra security had to be called because he was getting out of control. I've seen Dr. Byeon running inside ICPU frantically to room no. 015, those instances can't be staged."

You solemnly nodded at her words, you couldn't decide how anyone was with only one single interaction with them, but then again, the man in front of you in room no. 015 was far off from someone you imagined a person with ASPD would behave like when you did your case studies. "How does he look? Is he scary?" Yerin asked, her eyes wide as she looked at you. "He doesn't look scary, just exhausted." You mumbled quietly as your mind wandered back to his eyes, the soft puppy-like eyes, though the sparkle in them was dulled but you were sure they must've looked the prettiest when they sparkled. Jia looked at you lost in your thoughts before deciding to answer Yerin's question, "he's not handsome, he's ethereal, would've 10/10 hit on him if he wasn't a psycho."

Sunoo and Yerin gasped, gaining a look of annoyance from people surrounding the area you were occupying, you apologetically smiled at them. Sunoo sighed, dramatically face palming himself, "Why are the hottest people always the biggest red flag?" Everyone else shrugged, continuing to eat in silence for the rest of the lunch time. Maybe there was something more to the picture than it seems, you'd heard from Nurse Hong that Jake was aggressive, he was manipulative, that before getting admitted here he was notorious for breaking rules and creating havoc. Your mind juggled between those words and what you saw in room no. 015, maybe you were judging the book too fast, maybe all you were doing was judging a book by its cover.

The rest of the week went by the same, though Jake's irritation turned into mild annoyance as he got accustomed to your presence. Nurse Hong explained to you about your duties in the second half of your lunch time which you would be spending on providing mental health assessment and therapeutic counselling towards the patients she entrusted you with. You were thankful she was mindful enough to not overwhelm you with each patient of ICPU, cause you swore they were there for a very good reason, and you had a very long way to go before you could handle them like Mrs. Lee and Nurse Hong did.

"You're smiling weirdly," Sunoo eyed you from where you were gathering your notepad and stethoscope while simultaneously wearing your coat. "What do you mean?" You shot him a side-eye that could curdle the milk. Sunoo shrugged, still eyeing you with suspicion laced in his eyes, scrutinizing you, "you seem way too excited for someone who's working an early shift on Monday morning, it's because of Jake right?" Your eyes widened as his words sank in, you threw a crumpled paper in his direction, he dodged it, "It's nothing like that! Don't make up things. I've to go. I'm getting late for my rounds. Bye!" You didn't give Sunoo another chance to speak as you bolted out of the cabin and into the ICPU. Sunoo shook his head, clearly enjoying your denial about your growing attachment towards Jake. He could detect the shift in your energy from miles away whenever Jake was mentioned and he wondered if you'd ever realize it and if you did what would be your next step.

"Good morning." You greeted Nurse Hong who smiled at you softly greeting you back as she continued her routine. There was a faint skip in your steps which you didn't realize. Even though you were denying looking forward to being back in ICPU, you couldn't help but agree with the fact that you were looking forward to seeing Jake. You were starting to believe in your abilities in handling complex cases like the patients from ICPU, especially Jake. Over the course of a week you noticed the little changes that happened in his behavior, his shoulders were less stressed, he didn't cross his arms over his chest tightly and did not isolate himself whenever you were present with him. By the end of the week he had started answering your questions without rejection. The answers were still a bit vague but they were better than the single worded answer he gave you initially. He even laughed at something you said once, which was very brief and he instantly denied doing that, but you were happy he was opening up to you anyway.

As you were making your way down the hallway your steps halted when the lights lining up the hallway started flickering followed by a loud thunderstorm and then silence. You gulped, the smile wiping off your face at the dull atmosphere that suddenly surrounded you. You stood in the middle, eyes trained towards the door at the end of the hallway. Hushed voices could be heard from the rooms near you, patients getting anxious due to sudden power failure. You heaved a sigh of relief when the hospital's tired and true companion of a thousand years, the generator, finally started working, lightening up the hallway again. You made your way towards room no. 015.

As usual you knocked on the door before sliding in the key, your heart still racing slightly. The thunderstorm had quiet down a bit, but it had started raining heavily creating loud echoes of rain hitting any possible surface. You hesitated for a moment, hand wrapped around the doorknob, you took in a few deep breaths and pushed the door open. You entered the room, the curtains drawn back, and raindrops from the open window splattered against your face. You closed your eyes, not anticipating the unexpected intrusion. You looked around the room, everything was the same as you remembered. You closed the window to stop the rain from entering inside the room but decided to keep the curtains drawn.

The sudden movement of the door behind you caught your attention, you flinched, not because you didn't anticipate it but because of the sheer amount of force applied for the door to be yanked open. You turned around, hands still on the window, as you watched Jake eyeing you up and down. His clothes were disheveled, his shirt crumpled, two of his top buttons were open, showing a bit of his collarbone. His hair was messier, like he had been pulling them for sometime. His chest heaved heavy breaths, his lips chapped.

Everything about him was different from the Jake you met last week but what startled you most was his eyes. They were cold and sharp, an unfocused gleam beneath the eyelids. He looked at you, eyes staring into yours like he wanted to look at your soul. There was almost a magnetic charm in his looks, something you hadn't seen before. "Jake?" You called softly when he made no attempts at moving from his place, his eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head at you. "I'm here for your routine check up, is that okay with you?" He closed the bathroom door behind him, slowly, step by step making his way towards you. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Ye-yes! How about you sit on your bed while I do my routine?" He stood a couple feet away from you, hands inside his pockets, resting his weight lazily on one leg. His eyes were relaxed now, pupils slightly dilated, he bit his lower lip as if he was in deep thought. "Bed feels like a good option," a lazy smirk graced his lips as he moved closer to you. You took a hesitant step back, then again, till your back hit the window. His steps never flattered, he walked with an ease you never thought he had, he stopped when he was mere inches away from you. Sweat formed on your palms, your fingers automatically digging inside your scrub's pocket to curl around the pen in panic. His hand rose, steady and purposeful, as he wiped a few of the raindrops from one side of your face, slow and careful, like he was afraid you would break if he was harsh.

Your breath hitched, eyes falling shut for a moment. He scanned your face, smoothing your hair behind your ear, he stepped back till he reached his bed. "Aren't you going to check up on me pretty?" Your eyes shot open, he sat on the bed, hands behind his head as he smiled at you. You studied him for a moment, he was way more relaxed at chatty than he normally was. Normally Jake never talked with you more than necessary, and was pretty much closed off. But the Jake now in front of you was much more talkative, laid back even, his eyes carried a glint you couldn't pinpoint. You made your way towards him, deciding to sit with him on his bed instead. You did your routine, asked him various questions and he gave you the answers with practiced ease. You checked his vitals and everything was normal. No irregular heartbeats, breathing regular and unlabored.

You knew something was off, he wasn't behaving like he normally did. Still, somehow, the reports were abnormally normal. You noted everything, and he watched you like a hawk all throughout with a lopsided smile. You gave him his medicine, checked his vitals again, everything was normal, yet there was a voice deep in your mind which told you that no, this wasn't normal. But hospitals never worked on gut feelings and instincts, they needed observations which you had but it suggested a completely different conclusion. You sighed, packing up the things and making sure there weren't any potentially harmful things left behind.

As the medication took effect, Jake laid down ready to drift off to sleep, one of his hands hanging down the bed. You made your way towards him, pulling a blanket over as you watched him before putting his hand under the blanket. That's when you noticed, faint purplish marks encircling his wrist, you inspected his other hand which bore similar bruises. You knew those scars very well, the unmistakable imprint of being restrained by chains. You got out of the room, locking it behind you as you made your way out of the ICPU. You don't recall Nurse Hong informing you anything about restraining Jake with chains, surely if he did have an episode, you'd have been informed prior. The fact only confused you more.

You spotted Nurse Hong talking with Dr. Byeon at far corner of the waiting area, their faces contoured and voices hushed as they discussed something. You stood near the staircase, scanning the notes in your hands, there was something you were missing surely but couldn't point out. You greeted Dr. Byeon when he passed by you and stopped Nurse Hong to have a chat, "the patient from room no. 015, Jake Sim, has he been restrained before?" She looked at you nodding her head, "yes, why? He did try to hurt you?" You shook your head no, informing her about the marks you saw on his wrists. "When he becomes violent, he breaks everything in this close vicinity so it's necessary to apply physical restraints as a precaution."

You thanked her for taking her time to answer you amidst her busy schedule. She smiled, patting your shoulder in comfort, "It's great that you think about your patient's health this much, though Jake has been assigned to Mrs. Lee, I've monitored him too, I'm sure Mrs. Lee knows much more about him than any of us will ever do." You smiled at her words, and she bid you goodbye to take care of other things. So the stories about him being physically violent were true, but the Jake you met on your first week of working at ICPU didn't exhibit any violent tendencies. That was weird because he wasn't violent when he first met you, just cautious. Maybe he just didn't want to get restrained yet again. Moreover, he always had his hands crossed over his chest, so maybe you just never noticed the marks around his wrists.

The rest of the week went by with the same level of unease you felt on Monday, you initially thought it was because you were meeting Jake after a long time but clearly you were wrong. Every Time you went to monitor him, he had this smile, beautiful yet cunning plastered on his face which would make your skin crawl instead of raising goosebumps in flattery. He was very open to have any sort of conversation with you, often going off the topic and more into you. He was charming, his eyes gleaming as he teased you during monitoring. He was behaving so far off from the Jake you met first, and that made you rethink about everything you'd learned about him. You still noted as much as you could, maybe a discussion with Dr. Byeon would do. But it wasn't easy to do, due to the hospital being understaffed, he was pretty much busy all the time to come and sit with you and discuss it.

You sighed, the pen in your hand clicked in a rhythm only your thoughts could follow, as your mind reflected on the interaction you had with him earlier today, "you look cute when you're nervous." That's what he said as you were auscultating him, you looked up, your fingers twitching around the cold disc you had placed on his chest. His heartbeat was unbearably steady, even as he spoke and watched you with those intense eyes of his. One of his bruised covered hands tugged the stethoscope down your neck, his other firmly wrapping around your hand which was on his chest. You gulped, sitting up straight. You couldn't pull yourself away, it was like he had cast some unspoken spell over you. He laughed at your bewildered expression, hands releasing you from its hold.

You stood up, heart beating loudly while grabbing the medication and handing it to him. His touch sends shivers down your spine. You watched him take the medicines, your eyes focused on his wrist, he gave you a wink as he settled back on his bed. You packed your things ready to go out of the room and away from him when he called out your name. You pushed the trolley out the room as you made your way back towards him. He leaned lazily against his elbow, a smirk forming on his plush lips, his eyes were drowsy and unfocused but they were still undeniably focused on you, "your left eyebrow twitches when you get nervous, and there's something so honest about you getting nervous, it's kind of beautiful. Don't hide your nervousness from me, I like it when you're unsure and a little shaky."

"What an odd thing to say, Jake." You deadpanned as you turned towards the door to leave. His laugh anchored you mid-step, turning back you saw his head thrown back before his eyes once again locked with yours, his hair fell haphazardly on his forehead due to his abrupt movements, face turned completely cold, his eyes losing their focus as the time passed, the medications kicking in. "I believe you're forgetting something, pretty." His hand rose till it was eye level, fingers curled around a pen as he casually twirled it, the corners of his lips twitching slowly as he eyed you.

You tapped your hands over your scrub's pocket unconsciously recalling your pen to be the exact same model, your movements getting frantic as you couldn't feel your pen. Your hands dived inside your scrub's and coat's pocket, trying to locate your pen, eyes widening in realization that during the course of your routine with him, he had somehow managed to steal your pen away without you noticing. You rushed towards his bed and snatched your pen from his hands, "taking what doesn't belong to you without the owner's permission can lead you to serious repercussions both by the hospital board and law. I'm warning you right now before you engage in more trouble Jake." He laid back on the bed, a lazily smile hung upon his lips as you warned him about his actions, he just shrugged after you were done explaining, a light teasing tone in his voice when he said, "I like watching you lose control, it makes me feel good to know I'm getting under your skin."

"You're going to murder that pen." You were pulled back from your thoughts by Sunoo's voice, the clicking of pen halting, you threw the pen in your coat's pocket as you made your way towards him. "I think I'm losing my mind Sunoo," you whined as your steps fell in rhythm with his. "Honestly that's shocking, I thought I'd hear this on your first day of working in ICPU not the second week," you pushed him a little, your thoughts jumping back and forth between your and Jake's interaction. You weren't sure how your future interactions with Jake would unfold but you hoped it wouldn't be anything worse than it already was, "I can't wait to go home and get some well deserved sleep."

Your apartment wasn't too far away from the hospital and you preferred walking so you could have time to mull over things. The sidewalks were cracked, a little bit uneven in their placements, as you walked over it. Evenings in this town would always be your roman empire, the town was beautiful and welcoming in the mornings but turned solemn and hostile as darkness consumed it. Some of the street lights flickered while others gave up on their life long ago. You sighed as you spotted your apartment building, grunting as you made your way up towards your floor. You stood still in front of your door, struggling to breathe, maybe you should start daily workouts soon.

Your hand shot up to enter the password when you felt a heavy, invisible weight on your shoulder. The air around you suddenly thickened. You turned around, eyes and ears alert as you scanned the area surrounding your apartment, yet there was nothing. Blaming it on your exhaustion from work, you punched in the code and welcomed yourself inside your apartment nonetheless. You hung your jacket and removed your shoes, dragging your feet towards the kitchen to drink some water. You made your way inside your bedroom, placing your backpack inside the closet, you grabbed a tshirt and shorts and made your way inside your bathroom to take a shower.

You sighed a breath of relief as the warm water hit your skin, your hands massaging your shoulders as you whined in pain. All of the tension melted as you lost yourself into the feeling of warm water running down your skin. You squeezed some amount of shower gel on your palms, gently lathering it on your body. You rinsed it off, turning the water off as you stepped outside of the shower area. You wrapped a towel around yourself and grabbed another to dry yourself off. The bathroom mirror turned foggy, steam clinging onto the glass due to the heat of the shower. You lift your hand to swipe across it, the reflection of your face clearly visible now. You smiled tiredly at your reflection, you could see the weight of the everyday exhaustion in your eyes. You shook your head, deciding to continue your nightly skincare routine and changed into your comfort clothes.

You made yourself comfortable on your bed, eyes staring at your ceiling as your mind drifted off towards Jake again. You shut your eyes close, turning on your side trying your best to think about something, anything other than the person occupying room no. 015. You would be lying if you said he didn't occupy most of your thoughts even after you left work, in fact he has been a constant part of your mind ever since you first interacted with him. There was no doubt he was insanely handsome, and somewhere deep down you knew Sunoo was right about your growing interest towards him.

He was already consuming your thoughts when you first interacted with him, but even in his cynical form you couldn't help but let your mind wander back towards him. When you first met him, he was stoic, reserved but he was endearing. He was soft in a way it tugged at your heart. But now, with his constant flirting, advances and even his tucked up self was making your heart race unbelievably fast. You were about to lose your mind after working in the hospital but not in the way you initially thought you would. Whatever thoughts and interest you had towards a patient you were tending to, wasn't very professional of you. Your eyes shot open in denial, no, you had to stop whatever that was growing inside your heart. You couldn't possibly get romantically involved with one of your patients, let alone a psych patient at that.

Monday rolled around quicker than you imagined, your mind still hazy from the weekend's leisure. You stood outside the hospital's main gate, the security guard giving you a small smile before resuming his duty, you made your way towards the hospital. Jia greeted you as soon as she saw you from the glass door, you quickly pulled her into a hug. "Thank god I can see your spark back, last week it was almost as if someone had suck your soul out." You laughed at her words but didn't disagree. You mind was still fresh with memories of last week but weekend soothed your head like a balm. You were sure being back at the hospital would probably make you stressed for another week to come but you knew this is exactly what was waiting for you when you decided to become a psych nurse anyway.

In a well-worn pattern, you checked in with each patient that was assigned to you for the week, like a clockwork, you knocked on the door of room no. 015 before unlocking it. This time, Jake was sitting on the desk chair, blanket wrapped around him. He looked at you when he heard his name slip past your lips. A soft, barely there, smile graced his lips, "routine check up? Is this place fine or would you like me to move to my bed?" For a moment you just stood in your place, looking at him with curious gaze, he mimicked your expressions when you didn't answer him. "Are you okay?" You questioned as you made your way towards him, his head tilted up when you moved close to where he was sitting, his puppy-like eyes staring back at you.

"I'm okay!" He nodded, eyes drifting away under your scrutinizing gaze. He sat crossed legged on the chair, covered fully by the blanket, his hair was messy but it reminded you more of the Jake you met on your first week. His eyes were soft around the edges even though they carried a guarded look. What proved to be more unexpected to you was how closed off he was, he neither tried to invade your personal space nor he threw any flirty remarks at you, just casual conversation.

You made your way towards his bed, sitting on the edge of it, as you asked him some questions. He moved so his chair was now facing towards you, answers sliding off his tongue like honey on warm bread. You noted his answers, studied his body language, observed the room for anything remotely suspicious, "Can you remove the blanket so I can monitor your vitals?" He nodded wordlessly, opening his arms but not removing the blanket completely. You gave him a look but didn't press further as you checked his heartbeat, irregular thump-thump rang in your ears.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what was even happening? "I think I'm catching a cold, that's the reason I have draped the blanket over me." You nodded at his words, administering him his medication and bid him goodbye. You locked the door behind you, slowly making your way out of the ICPU for your lunch but your mind was, yet again, left inside room no. 015. He showed very distinct shifts in his behavior every week, you don't remember any of the physicians or nurses notes providing any insight on this very specific observation of yours. Or maybe you were just overthinking it, patients do tend to show shifts in mood.

You fell into the familiar routine, yet again, for the rest of the week. Jake had been down with a cold but got better with medications as days passed. He was covered in a blanket most of the time, even when he was inside the bathroom. You made fun of him for looking like a goofball and the way he pouted at you made your heart skip a beat or two. You liked this version of Jake, reserved but amiable, you didn't feel intimidated by him like you did last week. He didn't bluntly flirt with you, maintained a safe distance and didn't do anything which would make you work up. Still you couldn't forget how distinctly different he behaved as weeks passed by.

You pushed your trolley inside Jake's room, it was friday, your last routine check up for the week. He smiled at you from where he was seated on his bed. "How's Mrs. Lee's son?" You were surprised he initiated the conversation, he hadn't done that at all this week, yet you smiled at him, "he's recovering well but since Mrs. Lee is his only family, she needs to be with him till he recovers well enough to function on his own." He thoughtfully nodded at your words, you made your way towards him and sat on the edge of the bed. "How about we skip all the formalities today and speak with each other like friends? How does that sound?"

His gaze lingered on you as he thought about your question, "okay...." You smiled, holding your notepad in your hands regardless, "how's your cold now?" You asked, playing with the clip of the clipboard. "It's gone, I'm feeling much better now. I don't think I'll need this blanket as my 24/7 support system now." You laughed along with him as you asked him a few more casual questions to keep the flow of the conversation. He answered each of your questions diligently. "Okay a few more questions and then we can end this session with monitoring your vitals and administering medications okay?"

He nodded at your words and you continued, "can you tell me how are you feeling now as compared to last week?" You noticed Jake's breath hitching before he mumbled, "I wasn't in my best state, my mind was clouded. I don't remember most of it." You took note of the slight tremor at the end of the sentence. "You aren't planning on stealing anything now right?" His eyes widened as if he heard the sentence for the first time, "stealing? No, like I said I wasn't in my best state." You laughed softly, reminding him that you don't mind if he's regretting what he did. "You were quite chatty last week, I would say bold, to put it more clearly and you even touched me a decent amount of times, do you remember any of that happening?" You could see the sweat forming on his face, he shifted a bit, avoiding your eyes, "I don't remember it, I'm sorry. But I don't want this session to continue, can you please proceed further?"

You sighed but accepted his wish nonetheless. His comfort was your priority over anything, you didn't want him to feel agitated and lose control. You checked his vitals, his heartbeat haywire, at this point eveb Jake knew how obvious he was being, his nervousness as clear as day. But you didn't press, he didn't question why you didn't. You asked him to sit up straight so you could give him medicines. He did as you ask, his movements making the blanket pool at his waist. Your hands froze mid-air, your eyes trained on Jake when he lifted his hand to grab the medicines from your hand, a flicker of confusion crossed your face before shock sat in like ice on a cold morning.

You put the water bottle and medicines back on the trolley, your feet working before your mind did. You took both of his hands in yours, were you shocked? Bewildered? Confused? Borderline creeped out? You weren't sure. Words spilled out of your lips before you could stop them, Jake's eyes widened as he pulled away from your hold, sliding back towards the wall, "answer me Jake? What is happening?" You could see the panic on his face, the way his eyes shook, the way his hands trembled as you kept asking questions after questions. You should've stopped when Jake asked you to as he covered his ears, but you didn't.

You were sure you were losing your mind, if you kept working on Jake's case you'd probably end up as one of the patients of this hospital too. There was not a single thing which made sense in your mind, you were spiraling more than Jake. Your breaths came out laboured but you didn't move, you wanted, no needed answers and Jake was the only person who could give them to you. "Jake answer me, I'm here to help you, if you'll hide things from me how am I going to help you out?" Your words only fueled the fire in the wrong direction and before you could comprehend Jake hand was wrapped around your throat as he pushed you against the wall.

Your eyes widened, your hands wrapping around his wrist to free yourself, he didn't apply pressure, didn't even hold it tightly but his hold was firm, "don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong." You gasped, pushing him away with one hand and he let you. His hold loosened as he stepped back. Your hand instinctively made its way up your neck, you slumped against the wall, frozen by the shock of it all. Your eyes met Jake's glassy one, his face was stoic but the way his lips trembled ever so lightly, the way he was clenching his fists to stop the trembling of his hands, and the way his chest heaved heavy breaths, they told a different story.

A single tear escaped his eye, and in a violent motion he slammed his hands against the trolley, the metal clattering across the floor. You hissed when a sharp object cut through your skin, albeit not that deep. The sound loud enough to be heard from outside. Still you were perched upon the floor, eyes locked with his. He clicked his tongue, "stay away from me." That was the last thing you heard before the room was forced open by the security guards, taking in the condition of the room and you, they immediately pulled Jake away from you. He did nothing to stop them, his eyes never leaving you even as Nurse Hong gently supported you and helped you out of the room.

Dr. Byeon and a few attending physicians ran past you and into room no. 015 and you didn't want to imagine what was going to happen in that room. You were still in disbelief, your mind couldn't wrap around anything that happened inside the room. One minute you were laughing with each other and the next minute he was throwing things at you purposefully. The last thing you remembered before exhaustion took over your body was what triggered this whole ordeal in the first place, the faint lines of restraints which caught your eyes last week were now spotless, almost unnaturally so.

When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by Sunoo, he handed you an energy drink while sipping his coffee. He didn't ask you questions, didn't even acknowledge the situation that brought you to the hospital bed with an IV drip inserted in you and you were grateful to him. After a while Dr. Byeon made his way towards you, "how are you feeling?" You tried to sit up but he waved you off before continuing, "I'm sorry you had to experience that, I should've sent someone with better experience than you to handle him, even though the injuries you got aren't life threatening I'll give you next week off so that you can heal properly, okay?" You nodded your head and he made his way back towards his office. Honestly, whatever happened was terrifying and you definitely need a week-long leave to get your head straight but you were determined to find out everything you could about Jake Sim after your return, that was for sure.

"It's still Wednesday but I miss you so much!" You pouted hearing Sunoo whine from the other end, walking towards your apartment after going out to a local diner to have some coffee. Sunoo has been in contact with you daily since last friday, never letting you feel alone. You were glad to have a friend like him in an unknown town. He visited you every weekend, sometimes alone and sometimes Jungwon would tag along with you both. You avoided talking about the incident with both of them but the town was small and you knew Jungwon would be well aware of everything. None of them broke your little bubble, your wounds were fresh at that time. Still you were glad that Sunoo called you daily after his shifts ended to know about your whereabouts. Yerin and Jia did too, but their schedules were more packed than Sunoo's.

"I'll be back in no time," You smiled, "don't rush yourself, if you feel like you're not ready Dr. Byeon said he can extend your leave." You were glad everyone was being supportive but if you're in a profession which handles mental health patients, cases like this would continue to happen and you can't forever hide from them. You ended the call with Sunoo when you reached your apartment building, making your way up the stairs. The wind howled in the hallway of the apartment building, rattling the railings and windows which were left open. You felt relieved that you reached your apartment before the weather got tricky. You welcomed yourself in your apartment, removing your shoes and hanging your jacket you made your way towards the living room.

You stared at the store-bought snacks you never picked up from the coffee table while you were binge watching movies earlier when the loud bang of your bedroom window being slammed open caught your attention. You hurriedly made your way towards your bedroom, it had started raining heavily, grimacing, you struggled to tame the wildly flying curtains and shut the window close. You roughly wiped the droplets of water from your face, looking down to see your clothes being soaked. You made your way towards your bathroom for a quick shower.

The thunderstorm continued even after you were done with your shower, along with the heavy rain, frequent lightning, and loud claps of thunder. You made your way towards your window, water streamed down the glass, the sky dark with grayish hues. Suddenly the thunder cracked again, loud and close, you flinched hard backtracking your steps, hands pressed hard against your ears. The lights went off and then turned back on with the thunder, and then after a moment everything stilled. You relaxed in yourself, taking a few deep breaths to calm the erracting beating of your heart. Everything was quite quiet, too quiet, your stomach churned with unease or maybe just hunger, you weren't sure. You could hear your own breath clear in your ear and in that momentary silence you heard it, a soft crunch.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stayed glued to your place, maybe you were hearing things, then another soft crunch. You gulped, slowly inching towards the noise, the lights went off again, you looked side by side, eyes scanning the darkness, something felt weird. A chill rushes down your spine and the uncanny pressure of being watched makes you sweat. Then from the shadows of your bedroom door, a low voice, calm and amused, speaks, "Come on, pretty...don't take all night to react. I've been waiting for you here for a while now." A loud gasp escapes your lips, the voice too familiar, too close. You turn towards the voice, steps backtracking slowly. The light flickered once, dimly, casting shadows on your face, then it came fully.

"Jake?" You whispered as you stepped backward, heart beating loudly. You couldn't even bring yourself to speak any louder. Your left eyebrow twitching as you spoke, "who- how the fuck did you enter my house?" He laughed throwing his head back as he started closing the distance you were creating between you two. His eyes dark, sickening smirk engraved on his lips mocking your defense, "you aren't much careful when you punch in your code, not your fault, I'm just very good at what I do, pretty." He pouted enjoying watching you panic.

You gulped watching him inch closer, and closer. Your mind was everywhere and nowhere at once. Your thoughts trailed over your apartment's main door before your eyes did and without wasting another second you dashed towards the door, barefoot, hastily rotating the door knob. Jake's steps were rushed but not hurried as he approached you, the door opened and you made a run towards the stairs, repeating 'don't look back just run forward' as a mantra. It was late in the evening, no one normally roamed outside at this hour, and fresh smell of rain was still lingering in the atmosphere, it almost impossible for someone to be out, but maybe, just maybe you could find someone for help.

You jumped down from the last three stairs, wincing when your foot landed on a sharp rock, you looked side by side, and desperately banged the door of the old man who lived on the ground floor, you ran towards the street, searching for a presence when the door didn't open. Your thoughts wandered towards how he would've left the hospital in the first place, they would've surely sensed his absence by now, maybe they are on the way. You sighed in relief when you saw a person walking down not too far away from you, "Hey! Please help me!!" You yelled, running and waving your hand frantically in the air as if it would somehow gain their attention.

The person's footsteps halted in the middle of the walk, he took one of his headphones out and turned back to see if he was hallucinating someone calling out in the middle of night. He shrugged when he found the whole street empty, putting back his headphones on as he made his way towards his home.

Your back stung as the wall scraped against it, tears streaming down your face as you watched Jake apply more pressure on your mouth to make you quiet. You winced when your head made contact with the grainy wall due to his movements. He strained his neck to look for anyone, sighing in relief as he managed to get a hold of you before anyone could see you. He held both of your hands behind your back with one hand and pressed another one on your mouth. Your vision was blurry, blood oozing out of the foot that got injured, your hand ached with the banging of the door, your throat itchy and horse with all the yelling.

Jake's breaths were shallow and quick, he turned his head towards yours, "no one's here to help you pretty, this place is mine, I know how this town works." You twisted your hands, trying to break free which only resulted in his hand wrapping more tightly around yours. His other hand glided from your mouth to your throat in a quick motion. The tight grip making it hard to even say a single word. You gasped for air, his eyebrows furrowed and pupils dilated. His eyes were sharp, gaze strong enough to lock you in your place. His body was pressed tightly against yours so you won't move your legs. He leaned down enough to graze his lips on your ear as he whispered, "be a good girl and walk back to your apartment with me, don't try to be smart, I won't hesitate to hurt you, pretty."

You sucked in air like you were drowning, like you'd been underwater for hours, his grip lifted but its memory stayed in your throat, bruising each of your breaths with fear. "I can be harsher than that," he huffed as he brought your hands in front, pulled out a strip of white plastic with a ridged surface, one swift pull and it tightened around your wrists like a noose. He wrapped your mouth with his handkerchief and picked you up bridal style, "thought I wouldn't be prepared?" You closed your eyes bracing for whatever that was going to happen with you. Your head rolled back in exhaustion, your vision blurring on the edges of your eyes as you slipped into darkness, and he just pulled you closer so your head would fall on his shoulders.

Jake watched your face as he made his way back to your apartment, then let his eyes scan the street as if it personally offended him. He chuckled at himself, he thought you would fight more than you did. You looked pretty sleeping in his arms and he could almost imagine his future with this image. He stopped near your apartment, leaning against the apartment wall, he pulled off the handkerchief from your mouth. He made his way upstairs, deliberately checking if anyone woke up from all of the commotion. He knew the old man living on the ground floor took sleeping medication at night, he had made sure of that while he kept his eye on you from past 3 days. He didn't like doing things without being sure of everything. He loved destroying things with plan.

He entered your apartment, made his way towards your bedroom and laid you against the headboard. He searched for your phone, keeping it in his pocket he moved back into the living room. He pushed the loveseat of your couch towards the entrance, huffing, as he straightened his back and finally secured it against the main door, now even if you were to run, you would struggle a bit till he caught up to you. He walked back towards you with a glass of water and put it on the night stand. He searched for a first aid kit in your bathroom, then in your nightstand, making his way towards your leg. He cleaned up your wound and bandaged it. The wound wasnt deep, you could still walk better. He pulled out your desk chair when he was done and sat as he waited for you to wake up.

You opened your eyes, neck sore from the weird position, you wince a bit. "Thought you would directly wake up tomorrow..." your eyes snap towards Jake smiling at you from where he was sitting, a half eaten apple lying on the desk behind him. Everything that had happened in the last few hours crashed down on you as if someone had thrown icy water at you in the middle of the winter. He made his way towards you, plopping himself beside your trembling form, he raised his hand to brush your hair out of your face, eyes gleaming in satisfaction as you coiled into yourself. He wiped the tears that escaped your eyes, his other hand guiding the glass of water to your lips. His finger dragged through your hair and harshly tugged at it, your head tilting upwards as he helped you drink the water.

"Why are you doing this? All I wanted was to help you," your voice was almost inaudible if Jake wasn't sitting so close to you, he chuckled, shaking his head at your words. "Help me?" A crease formed between his eyebrows as he tilted his head, you broke eye contact, staring at your lap as you fiddled with your fingers. His hand made their way towards your bounded ones, his thumb brushing around your wrist where the zip tie was irritating your skin. Your eyes landed on his wrist then on your own, noticing the similarities, only his had faded lightly. His hand cupped your jaw, locking your head in place so you won't have any other choice but to look at him, "is that what you said to me when you came to check up on me last friday?"

"Why? You don't remember what you did?" You retorted, eyes sharp as you looked at him. A flicker of recognition crossed his mind and he laughed, the sound coming straight from the bottom of his heart. You looked at him like he grew some extra heads on his shoulders. "Can't believe this..." he muttered under his breath but you heard it, his eyes locked in yours, the smile never fading off his lips, "you're very likable pretty, wish we could've met under different circumstances."

"Why are you doing this? I never did anything to hurt you! How did you ever escape the hospital? You realize that they will find you wherever you go, right?....you won't escape this, you won't get away with this." Your lips trembled as you spoke, voice cracking, as you tried to compose yourself in front of him. "No one will find out about me, not even the hospital." You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. He cupped your jaw, his eyes his intense but soft around the edges as he wiped the tears, his lips brushed your forehead and he pulled you in his embrace.

"Go back to the hospital, don't do this to yourself, I know you don't mean harm, please, I just want to help you." You pulled away trying to coerce him into believing that you're on his side. He looked at you then back at the zip tie, he broke it with the help of scissors and threw them back inside the drawers. "I want to be with you, not the hospital." You shook your head, placing both of your hands on his cheeks, "get better for me? We can live happily after..." his eyes snapped towards you, letting your words skin down in him, "you wanna do so?" You nodded your head, thinking of the ways you could turn this around, "I do. I really like you Jake," he sighed as he leaned his head on your forehead, "we can run away, we don't have to go back to that hell-hole." His words muffled as he kissed your cheeks, your eyes closing on instinct. He continued to shower your face in kisses, your heartbeat erratic as you let him be.

He pulled away, his eyes scanning your face as if he wanted to commit your face in his memory. You sighed shifting your hands on his wrists as he cradled your face, "Jake, you can sleep here today but tomorrow we will go back to the hospital and I'll help you get better, believe me? Hm?" He looked at you, and for a minute you thought you almost had him where you wanted. He closed the distance between you, your lips parting in surprise. He waited until you reciprocated and he deepened the kiss. His one hand travelled back to hold your nape and bring your body closer, your hands found your way towards his hair. He groaned as he moved your body till you were lying on your back. His kisses soft as compared to how roughly he held you.

His hands travelled down your body, squeezing and grabbing as they travelled across your body, you moaned into the kiss. Your body reacted heavily towards his actions, back arching off the bed as you melted into his. You were hot, breath ragged as he lips travelled down your throat, harshly sucking and biting on your skin, inevitably leaving marks. Your eyes were focused on your ceiling fan, your mind haywire with everything. Your wrist was still stinging because of the zip tie. You gasped when his teeth grazed a sensitive spot behind your ear.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you let him hold you, there was something wrong. You had dreamt of this moment ever since your eyes landed on Jake, it didn't feel it same as it did in your dreams. But that was the difference, between dream and reality, reality always slaps you in your face. After a while he pulled back, kissing your lips once before hiding his face at the crook of your neck. You closed your eyes and ran your fingers down his back to help him sleep. You don't remember how long you waited, but you did, till Jake turned in his sleep and you were free from his hold.

Your foot still burned because of the injury, you sat up slightly to find it already being patched up. Your eyes landed on Jake who was peacefully sleeping beside you, mouth agape as he snored lightly. You couldn't locate your phone, groaning slightly as he may have hidden it. You slipped out of your bed, half limping, half tiptoeing across the room, turning every 2 seconds to see if he was awake. You slowly closed the bedroom door behind you and locked it from outside, wincing when the lock made an obnoxiously loud sound. You made your way towards the door to see it blocked by the loveseat, you tried your best to move it enough to get out of the apartment.

You were almost done, a little more, and you'll be able to open the door. You sighed, pulling on the loveseat one last time when you heard a loud bang against your bedroom door. "You're gonna regret doing this, I will make sure!" You turned around flinching hard at his voice, chest heaving but thankful that the bedroom door was closed. You pulled the loveseat, opening the door as wore your shoes hastily and ran out. Your foot was paining but it was now or never, you couldn't risk getting caught by him this time around.

Halfway through you weren't even sure where your steps were taking you, it was late at night, the local diner was closed hours ago. You decided hospital would be your safe space. You ran and ran and ran until your legs gave out. You looked back to check if he was coming but there wasn't anyone in sight. You pushed yourself to run towards the hospital, the rows of houses and shops fading away as the hospital was situated at the end of the town. You were scared, the road was slippery because of the rain, your feet led you towards where the hospital was located as if it was a muscle memory, you turned to look back every minute in case you needed to hide.

Your legs buckled and you lost your balance when your injured foot landed on rock again. You closed your eyes to brace yourself from the impact but a strong pair of arms caught you before you could land face first on the slipper road. You could feel your heart in your throat, every ounce of energy leaving your body. The hospital was close, close. The hands holding you up helped you in stabilizing yourself, your hands grabbing theirs to ground yourself, for a second you froze, a flicker of hope burning at the back of your mind, but then you looked up, "you alright?" And saw *him*. The world seemed to tilt as your throat closed, the arms which held you now felt like a trap.

"No...let me go!" You yelled, eyes wide, voice cracking. Your body reacts before your mind could, you shoved him, hard, with all of the power left in you. He stumbled back, his eyes wide in shock as he found his footing back on the ground. Desperation surged through your body like electricity, you were just afraid you were functioning on your pure need to survive. You staggered back, hitting your heart with your hand to somehow make it less frantic. Tears welled in your eyes, but they didn't dare to fall. 'This place is mine, I know how this town works' his words from earlier echoed in your mind, your lips quivered, there was no escaping him.

"Why are you doing this to me? All I ever wanted was to help people like you, leave me alone, I beg you, please." You fell on your knees as you sobbed knowing well that he had been a part of this town longer than you had, he knew this town, you were stupid enough to think that you tricked him. You felt him kneel in front of you but he didn't touch you. "What are you saying?" You glared at him as much as you could with your slight blurry vision, you grabbed the collar of his shirt as you choked on your words, "I hate you." Your fingers released his shirt in exhaustion and he immediately pulled you towards him, and held you close, his breaths heavy. He didn't speak much, just rubbed your back and let you cry your heart out right in the middle of the road.

"Hate me all you want, but I need to know the reason behind it," his voice was laced with pain as he pulled away from you, his hands on your shoulder as he watched you wipe your tears. You took a sharp breath and he held his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your shoulder. His touch was soft, as if he wasn't the reason your life was a havoc. Your eyes met his, and he urged you to continue, your mouth opened, mind filled with thousands of questions yet you weren't sure how to start. Did he get episodes like this where he completely forgets what he did before? He was looking at you like it is physically hurting him to see you like this.

His eyes wandered towards the road behind you when he caught a movement, eyes widening in realization as he looked at you, now alert, before moving back towards the road, "can you walk?" His question caught you off guard but you shook your head no, the pain in your leg was unbearable. He frantically got up, crouching down to pick you up bridal style as he started walking in the opposite direction from where you were coming. "Trust me please, I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was almost begging you to cooperate, you tried to look over his shoulder but he turned around a corner just in time. "Where are you taking me?"

"To the hospital, or at least somewhere safe." Somewhere safe? He wants to go back to the hospital? You almost ask him what he meant by that when a voice cut through the air, "going somewhere?" Jake's steps halted in their place, he put you down carefully and stood in front of you as if shielding you. "It's none of your concern," Jake gritted off his teeth, his hand holding yours firmly. You looked over his shoulder, limping slightly as you stood beside him. Your breath caught mid-inhale, confusion cracked through you like lightning, your vision blurred, not from tears, but from your exhausted mind who couldn't differentiate hallucination from reality.

Your world split into two, there he stood, the man in front of you, who had the same height, same face, same eyes that haunted you. Your thoughts tangled with the mix of terror, confusion and disbelief. Same face, different souls? Your body screamed to run, but your feet won't move, your mind swirling with different possibilities. Was this a trick? Or the truth? What if they were together in this, playing with you from the start? Everything clicked together like missing pieces of puzzle as your eyes moved from the man standing in front of you to the man standing beside you. Your eyes landed on the hand that was wrapped around yours, fresh bruises adorning his wrist reminding you of it had been the one holding you who attacked you last week.

"Why are you out of the hospital?" The man in front of you said, gaining your attention, your head started hurting at this point. "Why are YOU out of the hospital? You were supposed to be inside this week!" Jake, who stood beside you hissed, the other man just laughed sarcastically, his eyes growing narrow before they landed on you, "I just missed her, was thinking why she didn't show up," You hid behind Jake as the man in front of you stepped a bit forward, the grip on your wrist tightened slightly, firmer hold, "leave her out of this, Jake! Why are you playing with her?"

"Can't you see Jaeyun? I like her!" Though there was a visible facade of hurt on Jake's face, you could clearly see the fury behind his eyes threatening to overtake any minute. "Like her enough that you were going to abandon your own brother?" The hand that was holding you made its way towards your cheek, he leaned forward to whisper, "I'm so sorry you got dragged into this, I should have protected you better." You could see how hurt he was, the slight tremble of his lips, the hesitation when he touched you, the slight glossiness of his eyes, the shallow breaths. These twins, Jake and Jaeyun, were so alike yet completely different from one another.

Suddenly Jaeyun was pulled backwards by his hair, his feet scrambled beneath him, thrown off balance by the push. Your hands instinctively reached forward to grip him but a sudden, tight and strong grip on your throat held you in place. You screamed in pain, accidently putting your weight on your injured leg due to the sheer pressure of his actions. "You're supposed to be mine, mine to hold, mine to keep....you understand?" Your nails scratched his forearm, "I-I can't b-breathe." You could almost see whites behind your eyes due to the force he was exerting on your neck, and you heard Jaeyun before you could even see him throw a punch on Jake's face, "I warned you to leave her out of this didn't I?" Your hand found its way towards your neck as you coughed and Jake stumbled back.

"Did you just-? Did you just hit me?" Jake looked at his twin, baffled by his actions. Between both of them Jaeyun had always been the tamed one, the one who was shy, quiet, reserved and soft in a way everyone liked him whereas Jake was the bratty one, the one who was confident, loud, reckless and harsh in a way he always called for trouble. He remembers constantly being compared to his twin who was much better than him in everything, yet Jaeyun was kind enough to always see the good in him and forever stand by his side. Jaeyun never abandoned Jake, not when the school expelled him for constantly breaking the rules, destroying school's property and harming few students and a teacher in a fit of rage, not when he broke the neighbors front door when they were out because they complained to their parents about loud noises when he played games at midnight, not when his parents contemplated about sending him to psychiatric hospital when he got diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder.

He remembers his mother crying day and night over his actions, and his father consoling her. Jaeyun was by his side through everything, he made sure his brother knew that he had someone by his side. Their parents stopped him from going out all together so he won't hurt anyone, and despite Jake becoming an outcast Jaeyun was the only person keeping him grounded. He remembers Jaeyun fighting with their parents to stop them from sending him to a psychiatric hospital, and how shocked he was to find Jaeyun knocking on his window one fateful night after months of being in no contact with any of his family members. Jaeyun believed all Jake wanted was to be treated like a normal person, he couldn't imagine his brother confined into a single room for heaven knows how long. Their parents abandoned him so Jaeyun abandoned them in retaliation.

That's how it all started, Jaeyun would switch with Jake in the hospital for a week so Jake could live like a normal person. It was a point in Jake's life when he realized his brother would do anything for him, and he couldn't be more thankful to have him by his side. But Jake has always been selfish, and he knew Jaeyun's soft heart would never really understand how twisted he really was. Jaeyun was the only person who Jake trusted with all his heart. Jaeyun never really questioned him whenever he went a little too far with his actions. That was a new normal for them, Jaeyun sacrificed his own freedom and let Jake have half of it.

Jaeyun was the first brother you met, and like a clockwork, he acted indifferent towards you like he did with everyone, but he couldn't help his heartbeat around you, couldn't help how drawn he was to you. And Jake knew Jaeyun like the back of his hand, he notices every little change, so he noticed the changes in Jaeyun's behavior too. Jake found you interesting when he first saw you, so unguarded, so serene, he couldn't help but want to taint your calm. It gave him an adrenaline whenever he watched you get flustered, nervous, a mess in front of him. It made him feel something after years of feeling nothing.

Then the following weeks came, when he started noticing more about your and Jaeyun's bond, he watched it all, through the bathroom's crooked door space. That's the place they always switched their presence without anyone noticing for years, the worn-out, rusty ventilation window of the bathroom, big enough to climb and pass through. The security guard was always asleep during night time anyway, and both of the brothers were precise in their actions, years of sneaking in and out making them more sleath. Jaeyun knew his twin all the same, he could sense something was going on in his head when Jake started being more chirpy about the idea of meeting you.

But Jaeyun shrugged it off, Mrs. Lee or Dr. Byeon never caught up to their switches, all both of them had to do was stay indifferent, answer shortly, avoid speaking too much. Sometimes Jake would lose cool, which would end up with him being chained up to safeguard everyone and him. But it was a passing problem, Jake realized that soon enough, manipulating his behavior to gain the trust and go back to the routine, the handful of nurses and doctors of the old hospital were too tired to bother about minute differences in details anyway. And both of them thought no one would even bother with their little slip ups, so when you questioned Jaeyun about the previous week's checkup and about the disappearance of the bruises on his wrist, which he never really paid attention to before, he was terrified. He did what he could think was the best for you in those few seconds, he scared you, just like they did with every other new nurse who showed even the slightest bit of suspicion. Jaeyun thought it would be best if you leave, he did it to protect you from getting cornered by his brother, even when it broke his heart to treat you so poorly.

"I told you to stay away from her Jake," Jaeyun softly pushed you behind him with his hand on your stomach. His other hand was still clenched in fist, aching from the punch he threw at Jake. He felt betrayed by Jake in a way, he waited for him to show up to switch places like usual but he was nowhere to be found. Now, Jaeyun agrees there have been instances where this had happened before and it wasn't a big deal, but Jaeyun was scared Jake knew about his feelings for you and he was afraid it wouldn't do any good for either of you. He waited and waited but his anxiety took the best of him and he left in search of his brother, but stumbled upon you in the middle of the road instead.

From where you stood behind Jaeyun, you could see Jake's gaze trained on the way Jaeyun's hand held you, then back towards you face. His lips twitched, a scoff of disbelief escaping him as he glared at you. You recoiled a few steps away, hands instinctively going up towards your neck, which was now sore and had definitely started forming bruises. He took a few steps towards you and Jaeyun cut him off by firmly standing in between you, the tension between them palpable.

"Can't you see Jaeyun? I really love her, I want to be with her, she feels the same, I visited her in her apartment," you could see the slight tension in Jaeyun's shoulder as those words left his brother's mouth. He took a deep breath trying to rationalize with Jake, "you're not in love with her, you're being obsessed, there's a difference, and following her and breaking into her house isn't normal." Jaeyun's voice was low but steady, almost as a warning waiting to be heard. Jaeyun took a few steps back, your hand finding his, he turned his head towards you for a brief moment, his fingers intertwined with yours in a subtle way to assure you he's with you. Jake took a few more steps forward, the gleam in his eyes was dark and calculating as he glared at Jaeyun, "oh so now I get it, when she smiles at you, it's destiny. But when she talks with me, I'm obsessed and it's not normal?"

Jaeyun's breath hitch, "you're twisting things, you always do this-" Jake cut him off, "because you make it easier for me to do that. Don't you think she'd want to be with someone who is confident like me? Someone who will do anything for her? You think being the good one will make her choose you because of some moral obligations?" He leaned closer towards Jaeyun, "you know she kissed me in her apartment, she even promised to help me heal and be with me." Jaeyun's expressions faltered for a second and that was enough for Jake to know he's got his brother where he wanted him to be.

"See?" Jake whispered, "she doesn't want you the way she wants me, she's just a bit rattled. Maybe deep down she knows the one who's willing to fight for her love at all cost might love her harder than the one who's currently trying to be her knight in shining armor." You limped forward, pulling Jaeyun towards you to break the tension in between them by creating some distance. Jaeyun stepped back, his face void of color but his eyes burning, "don't drag her into this, don't try to turn her into a prize just because she was able to ignite some emotions in you. And I won't let you break her just so you could win to satisfy your ego."

"Are you hurt because you thought I'm abandoning you for her? I wanted to get you out of that hospital and we could've lived happily after. But you just ruined that by running away from the hospital." At Jake's words Jaeyun exploded, lightly removing your hands from him before grabbing his brother's collar, "you weren't going to do any of that, you don't care about anyone else but yourself! You only want her because you know that I do! For you this is just another game, to win, to let your ego know that you're the better twin!" Jake stared back, cold and composed but you could feel the anger threatening to spill out from his eyes, "is that what you think? You finally agree that you'd choose a girl rather than your brother's happiness? I think you're starting to finally show that you hate me. Maybe you silently prayed that I never existed."

Silence stretched between them, both of them just waiting for the other to back down, then Jake huffed a breath, "you've always been the favorite child, the golden one if you asked me. Everyone loved you, trusted you, spoke highly of you. They never cared about me, never really heard my story unless it was you who narrated it. I'm tired of you." Jaeyun released his hold, breathing hard at Jake's confession, "I did choose you, Jake. Everytime you rebelled, everytime you destroyed things, everytime you hurt someone, I covered for you, I stood by your side. I even abandoned our parents because they abandoned you. I came back to you, agreed to give up everything so you could get an ounce of freedom and what did you conclude? I've loved you more than you ever deserved Jake!"

Jaeyun continued, "You've always found a way to let things go your way...I won't let that happen with her. Not because I want to win against you but because I know you'll destroy her." Jake's eyes travelled towards you then back at Jaeyun, "you think I'm that fucked in the head?" Jaeyun's eyes wandered towards the sky before they landed back on Jake, "I know you are." You stood quietly, letting them have their moment, it was funny really, two brothers fighting over you yet you didn't have a say in it. But as Jaeyun hugged Jake tightly, holding him close as if it was the last time he'll ever hold his brother like this, you realized who you had chosen after all.

Jake's eyes wandered towards you as he hugged Jaeyun back, taking in your condition. The dirty clothes, the bruised hands and neck, hair messy, face smudged with a mix of tears and dirt, your shoe bloodied due to the injury. Jake broke the hug as he made his way towards you. You took a step back, eyes darting towards Jaeyun who nodded reassuringly at you. "Will you be by his side forever?" His eyebrow arched as he waited to hear your answer, a hint of confusion gracing your features, "why are you asking me that?" You weren't sure if he would once again trick and harm you so you maintained your distance.

Jake took out your phone from his pocket, dangling in front of your face before continuing, "do you have feelings for him or not?" You tried to grab your phone when he stretched his hand out of your reach, "you need to answer first pretty..." you shivered at the pet name used, eyes trailing towards Jaeyun then back at Jake's, you nodded your head reluctantly, eyebrows creasing in awkwardness because this is the first time you've admitted about your feelings in front of other. Jaeyun's breath hitched and Jake looked down for a second, deep in thought. For a few minutes, all of you just stayed still, processing everything, then Jake cleared his throat, opening your phone and typing something before tossing the phone back in your hand.

He put his hands in his pocket, turning around towards his twin and just took in his presence. Jaeyun looked at him confused, his steps leading him towards where you and Jake were standing. Screeching of tyres and car engines disrupted the stillness established, you and Jaeyun exchanged glances as no one dared to move. Two cars stopped right in front of you, your eyes widening in realization, 4 security guards, Dr. Byeon, and Nurse Hong made their way towards you. Their gaze confused as they landed on Jake and Jaeyun, your stopped breathing, trembling hands unlocking your phone to check the last activity. Jake had messaged the hospital about his whereabouts.

Jake made his way towards the security guards, to enter the car when Jaeyun stopped him, his eyes filled with tears as he hugged his twin. Jake sighed as he briefly hugged Jaeyun then pushed him in your direction, then turning towards Dr. Byeon to explain everything. You took a step forward, hands sliding in Jaeyun's in silent comfort. You could feel the pain, the love, the longing he felt as he watched Jake enter the car to go back to the hospital, his words loud and clear even from the distance, "maybe it's time for me to actually get better, I promise I'll be out of the hospital in no time in a much better state." Jaeyun sobbed in your shoulder as he watched the cars go.

You decided it would be best for you to have a long vacation before you rejoined the hospital, Jaeyun was by your side taking care of you the whole time. The town was still the same, but it didn't feel that detached because he was by your side. You don't feel lonely now. You and Jaeyun decided it would be better to find another apartment for you since that place gave you nightmares, and it was only after all your injuries were healed that Jaeyun discussed his need to go for therapy. You assured him that it was the best decision and that you supported him. Your new apartment was right beside Sunoo's so now you had a companion to be with while going to work. His mom occasionally sends you food and invites you home so you don't feel homesick.

The hospital authority finally decided to renovate the building, and more alert security was placed around the hospital. The room no. 015 was now completely sealed and turned into a storage room. It was safe to say everyone was baffled to their core when they learned how the brother's used to swap the places. More staff were appointed to the hospital to not burden the current staff to the point that mistakes like this happened again. And as for Jake, Jaeyun occasionally visited him, who was reluctant at first to meet his brother but then eased off since Jaeyun was very persuasive. Dr. Byeon decided he himself would monitor Jake and had informed you about his progress and cooperation and even though you still get chills from that night, you still hope he'll recover fast.

"Hello, is anyone there!" You grinned when you enter the local diner, Uncle Noh, the middle aged cashier just gave you his signature deadpan look, "your smile gives me chills, but to answer your question unfortunately, yes..." you closed the door and made your way towards him anyway, now completely immune to his edgy personality. He called out Jaeyun's name before you could even reach him, a mop of dark hair peeking from behind the back door. You waved at him enthusiastically and he lit up as he rounded the counter and hugged you tight.

"Gross, children nowadays make me sick with their pda," you laughed in Jaeyun's chest as Uncle Noh made his way inside the backroom, again. You felt Jaeyun kiss the top of your head, you pulled back slightly, your arms wrapped loosely around his waist. He kissed your temple before leaning in to put his forehead against yours. "You're done with your work early today," you smiled at his words as you kissed his nose, "I wanted to spend some time with you, so I completed my work with more enthusiasm, it's the weekend now." Jaeyun laughed at your excited tone, ruffling your hair a bit, he excused himself to gather his things so you could go back to your house. Initially Jaeyun decided it would be better to live separately, he wanted to learn how to live his life on his own and not be dependent on you. When you felt confident that he could survive on his own, you asked him if he would be okay with moving in and he agreed.

Jaeyun cooked dinner and while you finished taking a shower, you made your way towards him. He jumped slightly but relaxed when he felt your arms sneak inside his shirt and rest. He relaxed his body as you prepped kisses on his neck and shoulder. Your fingernails gently scratching his skin from his chest to his hips. He shuddered at your touch, biting back a whimper when you bit his ear. His hands held yours as he exhaled and let you continue. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss having you like this.

"You visited Jake today, right?" You felt him nod his head, "he says Mrs. Lee told him he's improving." You smiled at his words and listened as he carefully told you about his visit. "He says he wants to apologize to you, but isn't sure if you're okay with it..." Jaeyun's voice was careful and cautious as he said those words to you, you stilled for a moment, though you acknowledged and encouraged Jake's will to get better you were yet to gain courage to face him. But maybe it was time to put all those things in the past and start anew.

Jaeyun turned around in your arms after turning off the stove, then lifting you up and placing you on the counter. Your hands found home around his neck, his hands squeezing your plush things before sliding towards your knees. He pulled you towards the edge of the counter, parting your legs and smirking while slotting himself in between him. A small whine left your lips when he rubbed against your sensitive spot, a small smirk playing on his lips as he dipped his head low and captured your lips with his. Your one hand slid through his hair, scratching at his scalp while the other held onto his shoulder for dear life. He slid his tongue across your bottom lips and you parted your lips to let him deepen the kiss. One of his hands wrapped around the nape of your neck to pull you closer while his other roamed around your body till it reached your boobs.

You moaned in his mouth when he gently squeezed it, hips grinding against his to create some friction to your aching core. He groaned sensing your needy state, his mind contemplating between eating the dinner or eating you out instead, his personal favorite was the latter. He secured your legs around his waist and carried you towards the bedroom, not breaking the kiss. He hoisted you against the closed door of your bedroom, a bit impatient, his hands searching for the door knob as he trailed kisses from your jaw to your neck and collarbone. You whined as he bit your sensitive spot, then soothe it with his tongue. It was messy, the way he made love with you but it was endearing nonetheless.

He sighed deeply, opening the door and placing you on the mattress, his steps clumsy but you were too needy for his touch to even care. He climbed on top of you, your hands reaching for the buttons on his shirt and opening them with your trembling fingers, he chuckled lightly at you before helping you with the rest of the buttons and threw his shirt somewhere behind him. Your fingernails trailed down from his chest to his stomach and he shuddered, leaning down till he caged you in between his arms. His lips met yours again, his hands pulling at the hem of your (his) shirt that you were wearing. You pushed him a little bit, getting up to pull the shirt off of you. He hissed when he saw that you wore nothing underneath the shirt.

"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured against your skin as he lapped at the sensitive skin of your breast, purposefully ignoring the spot you needed him to pay attention to. Your back arched off the bed, wanting, needing, craving his mouth around your nipples. You pulled his hair, hard, your action making him moan, you could feel him grow hard from where he was situated in between your thighs, your hips rutting against it. "You're being too impatient today baby," yet he couldn't help but grind his hips against yours to maximize the friction. "Need you Jae, so bad," his lips met yours to drown out your moans. Your neediness makes him lose control, "yeah baby? How bad? Can't even wait to take the clothes off before you cum?"

You nodded your head, your eyes glassy with lust. He groaned, adjusting his position so his clothed bulge was pressed directly upon your clothed pussy, he spread your legs wider, folding your knees for better access. You pulled him close so his body was pressed against yours as he began moving back and forth against your pussy. "So needy," he huffed and you closed your eyes feeling overwhelmed by the emotions. Jaeyun, ever the sweet guy, noticed your actions, he put his forehead on yours, not once stopping the movements of his hips against yours, "you close baby?" you moaned in response, your body trembling as you reached your climax, your breath heavy as you opened your eyes, he followed right after you, collapsing on top of you.

You rubbed his back while he caught his breath. His head nuzzled at the crook of your neck. He pulled away slightly to kiss you softly, "I love you baby." You smiled at his shy expression, cupping his cheek as you mumbled a quiet, "I love you too." He ran towards the bathroom, changing into clean sweatpants, and came back with a wet cloth to help you clean. You stayed sprawled on the bed as he removed your shorts along with your panties and cleaned you up. He threw the cloth on the laundry basket and helped you get dressed into clean pajamas. You spread your arms when you were done with everything, he happily obliged, head nuzzling on your chest as he let himself rest.

"You know," He started after a few moments of silence, you hummed in response, feeling tired, "even though we met in very unusual circumstances, I'm glad I met you. You're one of the best things that has happened in my life." Your heartbeat quickened at his unexpected confession, knowing that being vulnerable is something he had always struggled with. He chuckled at your raised heartbeat, "I can hear your heartbeat you know, it's kinda funny it's you who is flustered." You pushed him off of you, grabbing the pillow at hitting him, "you should be glad I love you, don't forget how your heartbeat used to get hiked up whenever I used to perform an auscultation on you." He laughed at your words, grabbing your hands and pulling your body flush against his, "I know, I found you so pretty I couldn't help myself, God forbid a man is utterly infatuated by the love of his life." You just shook your head, hands wrapping around his torso, you could get used to this.

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