#study group fluff

[slytherinshua]

✎　 STUBBORNLY, PATIENTLY 　( 윤가민 )

genre hurt/comfort , yoon gamin x fem!reader   cw spoilers for study group up to episode 8 , the fic takes place during the events of/references events of ep 8 , not proofread   wc 1475   request for @lexeees and @candewlsy   note slytherinshua kdrama fic era is back too 😼😼😼 i always pull through for my man minhyun and i love study group hehe (i rly need to watch the last few eps lmao)   net @kstrucknet

“Shit. We’d be having endless meat at a buffet if we went with the plan.” 

You could recognize Jiwu’s annoyed tone from halfway across the Earth. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s fine— the owner said he planned to get a new machine.”

Jun, who somehow took the role of the mediator in more situations than you originally thought possible for the red-haired boy.

“Gochujang, you’re actually the one to blame!” Your eyes drifted to the window of the convenience store, watching Jiwu’s arm fly out to point an accusatory finger at Jun. “Why did you have to be so stubborn?”

Their voices muffled from your ears as your gaze shifted to the left, seeing the figure of your boyfriend slumped over the table. You predicted he might be feeling down today. Last year after exams, he spent the day in his room, not answering your calls. If you were lucky, you’d get a reply to a text, but the occurrences were about as rare as the correct answers on his test. You often schemed with his mother on how to cheer him up, as you both hated to see him in that state. Often the only solution was waiting it out, especially when he refused to open his bedroom door. 

This year, however, was different than previous ones. Not only did Gamin have even higher expectations for himself coming into the exam, but he was also surrounded by friends who didn’t quite understand the pressures Gamin put on himself yet. As his expectations climbed higher, he also had a steeper way down to fall when they were crushed yet again. He needed something to ground him— and that wasn’t going to happen surrounded by the loud voices of Jun and Jiwu bickering. 

The chime of the convenience store bell caught the attention of Sehyeon and Heewon, but the noise wasn’t loud enough to break the dark fog that was clouding Gamin’s head. Your touch usually did the trick, though. 

“Hey. Was wondering where you guys might be after exams ended,” you said with a smile, addressing the rest of the group as your hand moved to your boyfriend’s shoulder. He looked up at you, a million thoughts swirling behind those glasses. 

“You should’ve come with us, Y/n! We went to the arcade and—” 

Heewon’s cheery voice was cut by Jun’s interruption. 

“—Gamin absolutely plundered the strength machine, but it was my fault—” 

“That all sounds fun, but there was no getting around my part time job today.” Your explanation earned a chorus of hums and nods. Apart from studying with the group, you also worked part time at an animal shelter, caring for stray kittens. Heewon had begged for you to take her to see them sometime soon, and you were fairly sure Sehyeon would want to tag along as well. Everything had just been so hectic leading up to exams that you could barely find time in your schedule. 

However, when it came to your boyfriend, you could always find time. And it was clear that Gamin needed some of it today. 

“Gamin, let’s go back to my house. You can sleep over tonight. I already told your mom,” you whispered into his ear, hand soothingly rubbing circles on his back. He gave you a curt nod, the saddened expression on his face still not wavering. 

“We’ll catch you guys tomorrow, okay?” You helped your boyfriend up and led him out of the store, waving a quick goodbye to your friends.

The walk back to your apartment was silent. You held onto Gamin’s hand tightly as you thought of ways to make him feel better. You’d given him the same talk time and time again. He knew how important he was to you, that he had value in your eyes no matter what he did. But, to him, having his hard work give him the same underwhelming results year after year ate away at his motivation. It would be tiring for anyone. Sometimes you weren’t even sure how he still bounced back days later. 

Your apartment always smelled comforting to Gamin. Hours had been spent here together— studying, talking, laughing, kissing. There was something freeing about hanging out at your house, like it was hidden away from the rest of the world. You lived alone, and it was nice to get out of the way of the adults sometimes. 

The same routine fell into place the moment Gamin stepped inside the door. He didn’t have to think hard for his legs to lead him to your bedroom, or for his body to fall onto your bed. Your familiar ceiling allowed some of the most comforting memories to flood back to his brain. The first time he saw you, or your first kiss. Every time he had been there to comfort you, and every time you had helped him study. 

You soon joined him, laying down right next to him, your head resting on your outstretched arm and your eyes gazing at him with concern. You wondered what was going through his mind at the moment as his body lay completely still and soft even breaths escaped his slightly parted lips. The silence was gentle but delicate. At any moment it would crack and things would break. You could sense it. But you waited until it was time, hoping that now the little action of seeing your face and feeling the comfort of your soft mattress would be enough to start working away at the storm the day had rained down on him.

“Gamin,” your utterance was barely above a whisper. His eyes glanced at you and then settled back up at the ceiling. If he looked at you for too long, he was sure his resolve would break. “I love you. Remember what I said? A big change will happen eventually. Just be steady.”

Sometimes you felt like you were repeating the same words over and over again, unsure if they would really help him. But you would never give up on him. You’d always be right by his side, being his comfort, being his strength when he gave out. 

“I know you. You’re so patient, Gamin.” At the call of his name for the second time your fingers brushed his wrist. Hands finding each other once again and all at once his persistence fell.

Gamin never cried. It was almost unnatural to him. Every hardship had to be faced with a smile and unbreaking tenacity. He couldn’t pinpoint the last time he had truly cried. Not that he hadn’t struggled or felt pain or felt like giving up. But rarely were the circumstances so that he felt comfortable enough to do it. Only with you. Only when you were the sole person there to see him. 

His tears rolled down the side of his cheek slowly. He was still quiet through it all. The only sign being his grip on your hand tightening, almost desperately wanting to hold you closer. 

You often watched your boyfriend, observing his eyes or his lips or his hands as he focused on something. His quirks and motions kept pulling you in. You didn’t know it was possible to be so mesmerized by a single person before you met Gamin. His determination, his drive, his resilience— there was so much about him that was admirable if you looked beneath the surface. Yet he had always been ignored and pushed aside for his grades and intelligence in school. He was dropped into a box that didn’t fit him, confined to a space that only restricted him further. But Gamin loved studying; he loved learning. It was something no one could take away from him, even as the world beat down on his back, testing to see when he would give up and finally stop trying. 

But he wouldn’t. Gamin’s stubbornness was both his strength and weakness. It hurt, but it made him who he was. 

As he wept silently in your arms, melting ever closer to your embrace, you could only feel pride simmering in you at his hard work. His effort would pay off in due time. You knew it would. For now, he would have to continue being patient, lingering at the feeling of the sweet kisses you gave him as comfort until a day when he felt a bit stronger to stand on his own. 

As his tears dried and quick soft kisses were pressed to his warm skin and lips that he could barely muster the energy to reciprocate, he tried to smile. Tried. Moments like these were usually something he enjoyed. Quiet comfort with you holding him so close. But it was still hard to ignore the sickening lurch in his stomach from anxiety at the thought of exam results. It seemed like this time of the year would never get easier for him. 

k-drama taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @cha3w0n-hearts,, @candewlsy,, @cosmicwintr,, @blossominghunnie,, @parkjennykim,, @seunghancore,, @emmylksblog,, @bananabubble,, @hrtsvivis,, @hursheys,, @lexeees,, @cupidslovearrows

[mingoooossii]

Can you do both headcanons for park yoon ho and pi hyun wool? Thank you so much!

P. Han Ul and L. Hyeon Woo headcanons.

Kdrama: Study group

Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, minor webtoon spoilers??(not that serious actually), might be a bit ooc

A/n: I'm not a fan of han ul AT all but woomin did it so well 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ I feel like a bit of kyungjun also came in??(Somehow)and Hyeon woo's character was kind of hard to grasp but i hope this is what you've been looking for anonie<33

Words: 692

Requested ♡

geon yeop ver. gamin ver.

｡⁠*ﾟPi Han Ul.

• he wasn't really the one for relationships until he met you

• it isn't really logical considering his situation but he couldn't help it

• you managed to worm your way into his heart despite all the walls he put up

• at that point, i think he'd trust you enough to let that happen

• you're the only person he genuinely has a soft spot for, aside from his sister

• this also means that he'd be protective

• his sister would be fond of you and that just makes him instantly more inclined to ‘protect’ you

• he just wants to make sure that you'd be safe even if that means keeping you as a secret from his dad (and Minhwan but 🤷‍♀️)

• not really the affectionate type

• and because of his situation, he can be kind of closed of at times

• like don't expect him to be that open about his feelings

• he's just not used to it :( (this doesn't mean he loves you any less though)

• you'd be the one initiating physical contact most of the time but he does have his moments

• he likes laying his head on your lap while you run your fingers through his hair

• it helps him calm down and helps him go to sleep whenever he's having trouble

• i can also imagine him having a teasing side??

• he'd be very subtle with it though (a menace actually)

• but you'll know once you see his slight smirk

• kind of a jealous type but he wouldn't show it

• 100% the type to send silent death glares when he's annoyed

• but I can also see him being a bit cocky??

• not exactly in a ‘I’m better than you’ way but more like a ‘are you kidding me’ kind of way (hope that made sense 😭)

• so expect a snide comment or two

• but if he sees that you're uncomfortable with the other person, he will be taking action

• he’s definitely not the type to let things slide

｡⁠*ﾟLee Hyeon Woo.

• it takes him a while to accept that he had feelings for you

• once he does he'll be more open about it

• loves teasing you (that's his love lang basically)

• but he makes sure to not take it too far (actually hurting you is the last thing he wants to do)

• he's protective too.

• because him teasing you is one thing but when someone else does it??

• now that pisses him off.

• would not hesitate to throw hands if someone made you uncomfortable in anyway

• he's the jealous type but not overbearingly so (kind of)

• 100 % the type to judge (he wouldn't hide it AT ALL 😭)

• he does NOT gaf (his expression will say it all)

• but he wouldn't act immediately

• you were more patient than him with stuff like this so he knows that you could probably handle it

• but if it gets out of hand just give him a sign and he'll take care of the rest (🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️)

•he can be affectionate at times but he has to be in the mood for it

• so like expect random back hugs from him throughout the day

• especially if he's down

• he wouldn't say anything but just comes over to you and wraps his arms around you

• so please give him all the hugs you can!!

• headcanoning that he's actually a softie in disguise

• he's been through so much, so he doesn't really open up that easily

• but if he's really comfortable with you, i think he'd start to show his vulnerable side more

• however, this does NOT mean that he's a pushover in any way (he just trusts you that much)

• you were close with Ji woo (and Heewon too since you were in the same class)

• he doesn't really show it but it actually means so much to him (since you two were the two most important people in his life)

gen taglist: @mayflyfr

[hyuckworld]

PARK JONGSEONG…. in a royal au…. like i’ve been waiting for the day (insert collapsing to the ground gif)

ouuu and mc is going but has to stay away from jay?? i hope she dgaf because i need that effing royal cookie!!!! AND A MASQUERADE BALL?? fell to my knees oh my god

“So princess Y/N likes me,” suddenly a voice said, scaring you.

oh this little shit LMFAOOO had me anticipating him waking up and seeing mc and whole time he was pretending to be asleep 😭 but omg their little moment after and the confession is so sooo cute 🫂 thank you for writing this aria it was too cute!!! 🥰

REWRITE THE STARS

PAIRING: prince!jay x princess!fem reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, tub sex, slight biting and marking, mentions of royal balls, wars, slight mentions of blood and injuries, mentions of masquerade balls and marriage, mentions of heeseung

WC: 7032 words

SYNOPSIS: you had only been dreaming of the suitor’s ball ever since you had turned nineteen, ensuring that everything would be perfect on that very day. it was like a fairytale how you met this charming man, who so gracefully asked you for a dance with him, soon taking you out for a walk in the royal rose garden, making you fall for his charms. however, how would you take it once you realize that he’s the prince from your rival kingdom whom you’ve grown to adore so dearly?

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! i’m back with another fic! i feel like i haven’t posted a jay fic in ages! this fic was a sfw fic i had written when i was seventeen, but i wished to share it with everyone now after a bit of editing and also adding a bit of spice to it! i hope y’all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <3

A small smile graced your lips as you wandered deep inside the royal boutique, ball gowns of every colour and such intricate designs made it harder for you to select a design for yourself.

The royal suitor’s ball was a month away now, causing you to start preparing for it already. Now, this wasn't any ordinary ball, it was hosted by the most powerful kingdom out of three on the land of evander, the kingdom of Lavosta being the most powerful one, it had control over your kingdom, the kingdom of Azira and your rival kingdom, the kingdom of Nairid.

Nairid was ruled by king and queen park, they had a son, the heir to the throne who was born in the same year as you. Prince Park Jongseong, well known for his vast knowledge and graceful appearance, he was the next to be the king and was deemed perfect for the same.

Your kingdoms have been at war long before you were born, a truce was called not too long back as Lavosta had stopped sending resources to both the kingdoms, for the war had no positive outcome for their kingdom. But that didn't stop them from hating each other.

You continued searching for your gown as your elder brother joined you, “will you be wearing our kingdom colour for the ball?” Prince Heeseung asked, pointing at the royal blue gown your eyes were fixated on, he was two years older than you, and would be the one to take over the throne after your father.

“That would be too obvious, I'd fancy wearing something mysterious, and perhaps new instead,” you admitted as your gaze fell on a delicate black ball gown, the kind you had never seen before. Heeseung let out a small laugh, knowing all too well that you'll be adamant about getting that gown now.

And he was right, you chose the same gown and further asked the dress designer to make some changes in the design, adjusting it to your size for it to appear perfect.

Being the princess of Azira, you had to stay composed and portray your flawless etiquettes, no matter how tiring it got, you were adamant to give your best for your citizens. Nevertheless, the public loved you for you were — genuine and caring towards all despite the difference in their titles.

Giving your measurements to the royal tailor, you both rushed back to the palace for the supper. Your parents, the king and the queen questioned you about your preparations for the said ball, they seemed to be more intrigued than you were for the same, and you thanked the universe for getting such supportive parents.

You were nineteen, meaning that you would finally make your debut into the society as someone who's pursuing a suitor. Nineteen being the minimal age of allowance at the ball.

It was further discussed how Heeseung won't be attending the ball for he wanted to focus on studying for the time being, to be a successful successive king.

“I don't need to marry until I'm twenty three, as I'll take over by the time I’m twenty four,” he theorized.

The topic further shifted to Nairid, Prince Jongseong was to attend the ball as well, and you were warned to stay away from him, not that you needed to be told. You'd stay away from anything that could cause harm to your kingdom. You loved your people dearly.

The dinner soon concluded, and you were being prepped for the bed by your lady in waiting, named Anne, and slumber overtook you soon, dreams of finding your significant other overtook your brain, causing a small smile to crinkle onto your lips, an unfamiliar warmth filling up your body.

Far away in the land of Nairid, Prince Jongseong was going through the same procedures. For someone who's never paid attention to females other than being polite to them, he seemed to have a rather giddy feeling blooming up in him.

He had always been busy, learning about anything and everything he could, he craved knowledge, just like you did but he grasped more, saying it's essential for a king to know everything. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it.

Citizens adored him for being polite and understanding, helping them anytime he could. It brought him joy to see the citizens of his kingdom happy and comfortable in their own land.

That wasn't all though, Jongseong had a perfectly sculpted and fine-boned face, a body that can fight off any foe and eyes that could intrigue anyone.

He chose to wear black, just to maintain anonymity, as the theme for the year was masquerade, also because he fancied the colour black. He would not pursue just anyone, he would only write his name on the dance card of the woman he'd really be intrigued with, meaning he’d have very few dances, he’d have to keep in mind that this development would be important for his kingdom as his wife would become the queen once he becomes the king. With this thought, he fell into dreamland, a small smile lingering on his face.

Time passed by as all the royals kept on preparing for this big event. Three days before the event, you were busy guiding and packing all your essentials and luggage along with your lady in waiting. You were going there a day prior to settle in, and were going to leave as soon as the ball concluded, as it was a day-long journey from Azira to Lavosta.

Yet again, you were warned about Jongseong but it raised a slight problem, you had no clue what he looked like for you had never seen his portrait before, but you agreed to stay attentive nevertheless, staying away from anyone who wore his kingdom colours. You were promised to be shown his portrait as soon as it reached the palace for you to be more conscious of the successive balls you would be attending.

Meaning, you'll just have to guess his identity this particular time.

Soon you were on your way to your carriage, The King, Queen and Prince Heeseung, coming all the way out to see you off, “don't do anything naughty,” Heeseung giggled with a teasing smile causing everyone to laugh and for you to throw your handkerchief at him.

“What do you take me as?” You huffed with a pout, making him laugh even more.

You left Azira with a light heart, your ladies in waiting accompanied you along with guards to ensure safety.

While at Nairid, Jongseong faced the same problem, him being warned about your presence at the said ball without having any portrait to show him your features, only a description, which too wasn’t very particular about your features, nevertheless, he promised to stay alert and left for the ball, as it took a day to reach Lavosta from his kingdom too.

The journey was smooth and you were greeted by Queen Taeyeon of Lavosta as soon as you arrived at your destination, being on your best behaviour, you greeted her with a respectful bow as she gracefully smiled at your beauty, asking about your parents and their health.

Soon you were being escorted to your chamber and were free to rest for the day, taking in the beautiful scenery at the palace.

Jongseong arrived a while later, going through the same procedures, except his chamber was in the opposite direction of the grand palace. To say that everyone was nervous would be an understatement, attending such events meant being judged for even the minute details considering how everyone expects the best from the suitors.

Now that both the big kingdoms had sent their royal heirs, the expectations rose to an even higher level. The talks about your beauty and cleverness were all around the palace along with how Jongseong had a perfect face and appreciating worthy etiquettes.

You had been in your chamber the whole day, resting and calming down your racing heart, also noticing all the differences between your kingdom and here.

When it didn't stop, you decided to take a stroll to the famous rose garden of the palace. It was empty, just as you expected it to be and you were glad to be getting some time out in nature while the stars glistened, you had asked your guards to stay back at the entrance.

After a brief half hour of strolling and blessing your eyes with the prettiest roses you had ever come across, you decided to go back to your chamber. A sudden moment made you halt your steps, you hid your face with your handkerchief, enough to cover your face so that no one would recognize you.

“Is someone out there?” You started speed walking and turned back for a moment to see a stiletto standing there, staring at you with curiosity. That was enough to make you leave.

Prince Jongseong had seen you, or better, the shadowed face of you considering the lack of light during the nighttime.

His curiosity piqued as he didn't expect anyone to be awake this late at night, someone who would look beautiful even in the darkness, someone who’s charm spread all over the place with just their existence.

Soon enough, he left as well, just to look presentable for the big event tomorrow. Exhaustion overtook you both and sleep came to you easily.

The day of the suitors ball had finally arrived, everyone was in a frenzy to ensure that it went by smoothly. You were a nervous wreck, just as your ladies in waiting were. They made sure to get you ready and ensured to not even let a hair out of place, you had to look perfect enough to be every suitor's dream in order to catch the attention of someone who would be beneficial for your kingdom.

As soon as you entered the ball room, all eyes turned to look at you. Few of the reasons being — firstly, you were the only one with a black gown and, secondly, you looked beautiful even with a mask covering half of your face, grace dripping off your movements. Giving them a hesitant smile, you moved inside.

Jongseong made his entrance after a few minutes, you noticed how he was the only one other than you who wore black, and that his mask did nothing to hide his sharp jawline not to mention how his neck had a small heart shaped birthmark, similar to the one on your left clavicle. Your eyes couldn’t leave his figure.

You, being observant, noted how he walked with a perfect posture and his strides were confident, more confident than any other person you saw here. The man made you want to talk to him, approach him.

The royal dance commenced and several royals were quick to approach you for dance, writing their names on your dance card. You politely declined many of them, dancing with only two you found worthy enough as your mind kept wandering back to the guy in black.

He had noticed you too, your bold choice of colour intriguing him enough to muster up his courage to ask you for a dance.

“May I have the honour of dancing with you, my lady?” He asked, not knowing your title of being a princess and you kept it that way.

“I’d be glad to, sir,” you responded with a smile.

He didn't write his name on your dance card, you both did not even as much as ask for each other's name, saying how this anonymity made you both more curious.

He gently held on to your hand, placing his other hand on your waist and pulling you closer, close enough for you to take in his scent.

It was exquisite and unfamiliar.

Not a lot of words were exchanged during the dance, but you didn't fail to notice how light his hold was on your waist, as if he didn't want to cross any boundaries and you were truly grateful for that, but didn‘t stop your heart from beating fast.

“Shall we go for a stroll to the rose garden, my lady?” He offered soon after the melody had concluded.

You hesitated leaving the ball, however, something about this stranger made you want to break your rules just a snitch.

You agreed and made your way out with him.

As you both walked, you suddenly asked, “what should I call you, sire?”

He chuckled softly at your sweet voice and replied, “you can call me Jay, it's not my real name though.”

Only his friends called him Jay and no one else knew about this nickname of his. You nodded, acknowledging this before saying his name out, testing how it rolled off your lips.

“Can I call you queen?” he suddenly asked.

“Queen? Why so?” you asked, slightly confused.

“You have a strong and beautiful aura, which reminds me of how a queen should be,” he explained and it made you smile.

“Then you shall do it,” you said, trying to calm your racing heart.

You both reached a bench and sat down, gazing at the night sky. You removed your mask softly and Jay turned to look at you, mesmerized how elegant you looked even in the dim light of the night sky, your face lighting up in the moonlight.

“You're beautiful,” he blurted out without realizing what he said.

You laughed and thanked him, it made you feel better about yourself. Soon enough he removed his mask too and god he was beautiful.

“You look divine,” you spoke and he thanked the night for hiding his blush before he thanked you for the compliment.

And then you talked about your likes and dislikes, favourite colours and hobbies but never once came the topic of kingdoms.

A part of you both knew that maintaining anonymity could cause you to never meet again but you both promised to attend the yearly ball taking place just two weeks after this one. The ball which the public is allowed to attend too.

You decided that you liked him, he made you feel at ease, he felt the same but you both decided to keep these newfound feelings to yourself for now. The rest of the ball was spent the same way and you wouldn't change it for the world. Soon it was time to leave.

“I'll wait for you,” Jay said, looking forward to the next ball.

“I'll be there,” you promised. He bent down slightly, looking into your eyes with a soft glint before he gave you a small peck on your forehead, soon shying away. That's how you bid each other goodbye, butterflies filling up your lower abdomen.

All the time on your way back, you kept thinking about him, excited to tell your parents about him. Your ladies in waiting teased you for falling so fast but you didn't care. You felt happy.

Jay felt attached already, he felt that you'd become a great queen for him not just because he liked you, but he knew how intelligent you were from the conversations you had. It was no secret that both of you were attracted to knowledge, a small smile on his face as he looked at the beauty of trees outside from his carriage.

When you reached Azira, you told your parents and Prince Heeseung all about the ball, they were happy for you but your mother had a bad feeling about this, which she hid behind her smile.

Heeseung jokingly called you stupid for not asking his name and you agreed a bit on that part.

A few days had passed by, you were indulged in your daily work and classes as a princess. Your lady in waiting informed you that Prince Jongseong's portrait had reached your palace, now you would finally know who to stay away from. A bad feeling made you want to not go and check the same, but you did so for your safety as you reached your chamber and asked your lady in waiting to show you the said portrait.

You froze as you saw Jay's face on it. Putting the puzzle together, you finally understood how big of a mistake you had made, hand on your mouth as you stood there sadly.

Did he know you? Did he do it on purpose? Disappointment overtook you and yet you didn't want to blame him before knowing his side of the story, you couldn‘t understand why you felt this way, especially when you had met him only once before.

Maybe you were worried about this being a plan, or a betrayal, but the sincerity you saw in his eyes that day said otherwise.

You sighed, asking your lady in waiting to prepare a bath for you as you needed something which would help you relax.

Meanwhile at Nairid, Prince Jongseong had already seen your portrait a day before you saw his portrait. His heart was heavy, he never once considered you to be from Azira, for he was told that people from your kingdom were ones who are rude and boastful, and he had already made plans to make you his queen. He decided to confront you about this during the next ball, unsure if you would come or not.

Your mom figured out that the guy you met was Prince Jongseong due to your recent dull aura. As a queen and a mother, she called you over, holding you close and later, asking you to get over him before leaving, telling you how this relationship cannot ever be successful.

“He’s from a completely different world, Y/N, I’m sorry,” she said before letting you go and attend the ball which you had been waiting for, while also being nervous about it.

With a shaky breath, you got inside your carriage for the ball. You weren't sure if he would attend. Nor were you sure of what you'd say if you meet him there. Many princes had sent you proposals after the suitors' ball but you turned all of them down without second thoughts, only one man being in your heart.

Jongseong arrived on the day of the ball so you couldn't meet him before that. Your eyes searching for him since the day you had arrived, gulping when you didn‘t see him, relieved and sad at the same time, however, you had to control your emotions if you were to find him.

On the day of the ball, you took your sweet time in getting ready for the same, drawing everyone’s eyes again, face on display for the public to see as you bowed down slightly when the announcer announced your title to the ball.

He had spotted you instantly, learning your name and his eyes fixated on your figure, which this time wore a royal blue gown, your kingdom’s colour. While he wore emerald green, his own kingdom’s colour.

“Princess Y/N, can we talk for a moment?" He approached you almost instantly, gaining attention from others as they murmured about the two of you being together despite the differences in your kingdoms, but he maintained his composure.

You gulped and nodded, excusing yourself from the ladies you were talking to with a nervous smile, not looking into his eyes as you followed him silently.

You both reached the rose garden in a few minutes, “so, Prince Jongseong, I see you know me already,” you started, tone being accusatory.

“I learned about you a few days back when I was shown your portrait, I would not lead you on otherwise, princess,” he explained, sounding sorry.

Him being warned about you made you feel sad, but you had gone through the same thing, which made you realize how you can’t ever be with him.

“I learned about you quite recently as well, I'm disappointed that the circumstances turned out to be this way, Prince Jongseong, I cannot let my kingdom down,” you sighed, forming your sentences carefully.

“I'll take my leave early today, but before leaving, can I ask for something from you, princess?” It was so wrong and he knew it, but he would regret not doing this otherwise, his heart racing, blood rushing to his cheeks as he could not control his emotions anymore.

“What is it that you could want from me, prince?” You questioned, looking into his eyes which made your cheeks heat up.

“A kiss,” he breathed out and your eyes widened.

“I know it's wrong, princess, but I am certain to regret it if I don't kiss you,” he spoke softly.

For the first time in your lives, you both weren't thinking from your minds.

You were thinking from your hearts.

And so you nodded, allowing him to do so with a shaky breath, and soon his lips touched yours in a delicate kiss. That's how both of you lost your first kiss under the dim moonlight, heartbeats in sync with how your lips moved against each other, tingling with the feeling of being so close to each other.

As soon as the kiss broke, you turned away. Not feeling the need to stay at the ball anymore, Jay called out your name in desperation but you didn’t stop, tears forming in your eyes.

You had kissed a man you’d never be able to marry.

Reaching your chamber, you asked your guards and ladies in waiting to get ready to leave and before you knew it, you were returning back to Azira.

Little did you both know that the queen of Lavosta had seen your little escapade from her grand balcony's telescope. An idea formed in her mind to end the rivalry of both the kingdoms once and for all.

Two days after returning from the ball, Prince Jongseong was called to his father's chamber. His father, the king, had an unreadable expression resting on his face.

“Tell me, son. Why does Queen Taeyeon want you to get married to the princess of Azira?” He finally asked.

Jongseong's breath hitched, eyes widening at his father’s question.

“The queen sent a letter, it briefly mentioned that you were spotted with princess Y/N,” he explained. He wasn't disappointed, all the king wanted was for his son to be safe.

“I'm sorry, father,” Jongseong apologized in a whisper.

“It's not your fault son, the queen has ordered you to get married to princess Y/N without thinking how it will affect our kingdom,” he sighed, looking at his queen with a troubled couple expression.

“I will not marry her.” It hurt him to say this, but he wouldn't let the citizens suffer, also remembering how you ran away after he had kissed you, and maybe you wouldn‘t want to see him ever again.

While in your kingdom, you had gotten the same letter and your parents were worried, knowing how this could be harmful for you and your whole kingdom. So, you had decided the same thing, to say no to the proposal laid out by Queen Taeyeon.

Your brother looked at you with a sad face.

“I'm so sorry, Y/N,” your mom said, hugging you.

Now all that was left to decide was how to let the queen know that you had declined the proposal. It would affect your relationship with her kingdom.

You quietly sobbed in your chambers, wanting nothing more than to be with Prince Jongseong, calling yourself stupid for wanting to be so selfish.

A few days later, queen Taeyeon of Lavosta got both letters saying that both kingdoms had declined the proposal. She knew it wouldn't last long, and this would be the outcome.

“Queen,” a guard entered her chambers, bowing down to show respect to the most powerful queen among the three big kingdoms.

“We found out a spy, he revealed a few plans after we forced him to,” he said.

“What is it about?” she asked.

“They’re planning to attack Azira in a few days,” he informed.

Her guards informed her about the speculations of a foreign king planning to attack Azira, telling her about everything he knew and she took her time to plan ways to help her neighbouring kingdom.

She decided to make a profit out of it alongside, knowing exactly who would be willing to help your kingdom.

She got a letter delivered to Nairid for Prince Jongseong. All that was written in the said letter were the words: princess Y/N is in danger, reach to her with your soldiers as soon as you can.

The letter was successful in getting him restless. Even if he had opposed everything about your kingdom, he had fallen for you and he'd most certainly won't let anything happen to you.

So, he told his father, who hesitantly agreed to help him when he saw that the letter came from queen of Lavosta herself, he also knew that Jongseong was intelligent and wouldn't rush his decisions.

He trusted his son.

He sent Jongseong along with an army of guards to help your kingdom. He would have thought of the letter as a filthy prank had it not come directly from queen Taeyeon.

They set off for their journey to Azira as fast as it was possible, Prince Jongseong led the army with speed, riding his horse as his heart raced with the fear that he won‘t be able to see you if he’ll be late by even a second. A determined expression on his face, jaw clenched and eyes sharp.

While in Azira, everything was calm. Too calm to be normal. For a whole day, no one had visited the palace except for the royal family and their workers. The market was shut down and the town was empty, as if everyone knew that something terrible was going to happen.

A day passed by, Prince Jongseong traveled without stopping and was near your kingdom by the time the enemy had attacked, aiming directly for the palace as the others attacked the town. Soon, the whole army of guards were fighting against the enemy soldiers, you and Heeseung helped the guards as you had mastered using the swords and you insisted on helping.

The king and the queen were made sure to be in the safest place surrounded by the most skilled guards.

Yet, the enemies outnumbered your guards as they mercilessly killed people. You had a long scratch on your skilled hand which made it harder for you to keep up, your protective covering was damaged as well.

Soon, you heard a commotion outside the palace, you had no clue as to what it was till you spotted Jay with his soldiers. He had come to help you despite the unfavorable circumstances of your kingdoms. You didn’t get a chance to even smile at the sight before you had to grab your sword again and attack at the enemy coming close to you.

You were distracted, causing another injury on your shoulder blade, thankfully it wasn't enough to potentially injure to the point you would faint. Jay had spotted you, rushing right into the palace to find you and he ran over to you.

“Princess,” he said breathlessly, cupping your cheeks.

“Prince,” you replied, breathless as well, but this interaction was short-lived as you were attacked yet again.

Jay slashed the man in one go, mentally promising himself to not let anyone harm you, eyes dark as he saw your injuries. It went on for a few hours but yours and Jay's army outnumbered their soldiers, winning the war, he never once left your side.

Until Jay saw your father getting targeted by a man who somehow survived the war, he ran and covered your father, the king. The sword pierced right through him, making him go limp in a few seconds.

You let out a scream while Prince Heeseung killed the last man standing, ending the war finally, breathing hard.

Your father was stunned to see Jay giving himself out for him. You pressed your hand on his wound, applying pressure, crying and calling out for the royal medic to tend him. Soon, he was taken into the medic ward, leaving you out. All you could do was pray, pray for him to be fine and alive. Your father sent many medics all over the kingdom to tend to the others who were injured.

Lastly he sent a letter to Nairid, to the king, to let him know that Jay was injured. He wanted to end the war for all now. He would call truce as soon as the other king would arrive here. It had been hours, yet no response from the medics who were busy treating Jay.

You were taken back to your chamber despite your wailing and were made to freshen up, your eyes swollen, body covered in blood and heart breaking as you imagined how Jay would be, as soon as you entered the medic chamber, you saw Heeseung by Jay's limp body.

“He’s alive, just unconscious,” Prince Heeseung informed you and you thanked the gods, a tear sliding down your cheek.

“You should get married to him, you know?” Prince Heeseung said with a smile, approving the relationship.

“Only if he would want to,” you sadly said, not sure of what to expect, “he almost got killed saving us,” you sobbed, looking at him.

Prince Heeseung gave you a sad smile as your parents entered the chamber as well, their little injuries made you even sadder.

“Prince Jongseong, how can we thank him?” your father spoke, asking no one in particular, showing how grateful he's for Jongseong. Yet, he was sad to see him suffering because of him.

He laid there unconscious, still looking like an angel. A day passed by and you never once left his side. You softly kept muttering how thankful you were to him, wiping his face with a soft wet cloth.

“I think I like you, Prince Jongseong,” you whispered, thinking that he wouldn't hear, a feeling of warmth bloomed up in your body as you finally said it out loud.

As soon as you said that, the gates of the chamber opened, revealing Jongseong's father and mother. You bowed down, showing respect to the king and queen of Nairid.

You were quick to apologize for everything that had happened here and to their son, the queen keeping a hand on your shoulder to tell you that it was fine, and you were not at fault.

They made you feel welcome despite the long rivalry your kingdoms had.

They stayed by Jay, deeply worried and sad seeing their future king and son in this state, muttering how proud they are and how brave he is.

They further met your parents, who had come to the chamber as well. explaining the whole story to them, they called in truce even before your father could say a word.

They hugged each other, looking like they've been friends for their whole life and it gave you hope, hope of being with Jay.

They decided to stay at Azira till Jay woke up and soon you were alone with him again in the medic ward. You gently caressed his hair while staring into nothingness.

“So princess Y/N likes me,” suddenly a voice said, scaring you.

You saw that Jay was awake, your eyes widening, a big teasing smile on his face.

Without thinking anything, you hugged him with a shaky breath.

“Ouch!” He let out as his wound was still healing.

“Oh! I'm so sorry,” you said moving back, careful to not hurt him again, he let out a laugh and squeezed you into another hug, making you smile softly as you teared up again, butterflies rising in your stomach, and before you could do much, he was sent to freshen up by the medics, you sat there, waiting for him.

“Are you stupid? Why did you come here? You got injured, Jay–” your little rant ended as he put his hand on your mouth.

You had started complaining as soon as he returned after freshening up.

“Wow, no one has called me stupid before,” he said as if it was an achievement, caressing your cheek slightly, making your stomach tingle.

You sighed, shaking your head and hugged him again with a pout on your lips.

“I like you too princess. I came to ensure your safety. I still have to marry you, you know?” He spoke softly, hoping that you won't reject his proposal.

He wanted to marry you, the mere thought of it made you smile as you leaned back to look at him.

“You want to marry me?” You questioned, staring at him with big doe eyes.

“Only if you allow me to, princess,” he said with a smile, hoping you'd say yes.

“I can never say no to you, prince,” you truthfully said as he captured your lips to his, both of you smiling into the kiss as his hand rested on your waist, his eyes glistening while he looked at your face.

Needless to say, everyone was overjoyed with this news, well, it did take time for citizens of both the kingdoms but they did mend their relationships. And in the blink of an eye came the day of your engagement. Jay had ensured for your attires to look the same as the ones you wore at the masquerade ball, the day you first met, just with different colours.

He looked at you with such pure eyes, holding nothing but adoration for you and only you. After exchanging engagement rings, Jay whispered an “love you” near your ear, making your heart flutter. You subtly whispered “and I love you” back to him causing him to break out into a big smile.

Citizens were happy to see you both jovial together. Your brother kept sending you teasing smiles. Your parents were beaming, matching the smiles of Jay's parents. Lastly, Queen Taeyeon of Lavosta sat there with a proud smirk, she was glad to see you together. Afterall, she was the one to initiate this in the first place.

The ceremony was grand, your eyes going around the venue, trying to capture everything into your memory forever, the reception being even more grand as the royals from all neighbouring kingdoms had come to bless you two with their pure hearts.

“Princess,” Prince Jongseong whispered in your ear when no one was paying attention to you both, enjoying themselves.

“Yes?” You asked softly, a feeling of shyness covering your tone.

He looked at you with adoration, “the gods must really love me,” he spoke, “I prayed for you to be mine, and now, you are my princess,” he whispered.

With your palpitating heart and love filled eyes, you softly said, “I think god loves us both then.”

His eyes widened slightly once he heard you, and he had to use his whole willpower to stop himself from kissing you right then and there.

He couldn’t wait to have you alone with him.

Once the ceremonies were over, you looked over to your parents, saddened by the fact that you won't be living with them anymore.

Prince Jongseong took your hand and placed it on his arm gently, giving you a reassuring smile as you both made your way towards his chamber, your breathing was heavy as you tried not to think about how you would be sharing Prince Jongseong’s chamber with him from now onwards.

“You must be exhausted, princess. You should clean up first,” he suggested, extending his hand towards the door that separated the bathing area.

You were all alone, the water already warm, set perfectly to take bath by the maids who had come priorly to ensure that you both won’t be needing anything else later on.

However, you seemed to have trouble opening the knot of the corset you had worn, leaving you frustrated as you couldn’t ask for help from anyone else.

With heated cheeks, you called out for the prince.

Prince Jongseong hadn’t expected that you would call out for him, and so, he rushed into the bathing chambers to check whether you required any help.

“Yes, princess?” He asked, breathless once he looked at your hair, which were no longer in a bun, only the accessories still decorated them, his heartbeat rose at your next words.

“Could you please help me take this off?” You asked softly, brushing your hair away from your back to show him the knot.

He came closer, his warm fingers rested on your bare arm as the other one pulled on the string, loosening your corset until it was fully off. His warm breath fanned your neck, his deep voice taking your name in a soft whisper.

“Tell me to go, princess, or else I won’t be able to control myself,” he said, face red and eyes on your figure, which was just in a thin white slip.

You had never felt this way before, your knees felt weak and you did not wish for the price to leave.

“Don’t go,” you whispered out, turning to look at him, “please?”

“Come here,” he said, guiding you towards the royal bath tub.

You did not remove your slip as you walked down the stairs and into the warm water, goosebumps covering your skin at the pleasurable feeling.

You sat down with a low sigh leaving your lips, eyes opening to look at your prince, chest rising up and down once you saw him unbuttoning his blazer, taking off all his clothes.

With a gasp, you looked away, not wanting to invade his privacy and look at him. You were flustered, an indescribable feeling rose up in your lower abdomen.

He soon got into the water, coming close to you. You could see the scars from the battle on his perfectly sculpted body when you turned towards him, the water covering his stomach. His arms flexed when he extended them, calling you in to be in his arms.

Your steps were slow, and his eyes dropped down to see your wet white slip sticking to your body, revealing everything to him, causing him to groan and pull you closer by the waist.

“Do you have any clue how long I’ve wanted you all to myself?” He asked, his fingers on your chin making you look up to him and gulp.

He could have sworn you were the prettiest person he had ever laid his eyes on, your innocent and shy gaze made him go crazy.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, “because if you say yes now, then I won’t be able to stop later.”

“Yes,” you breathed out.

In the span of a millisecond, he leaned forward and his lips were on yours. He tasted exactly like the cherry wine you had earlier, your hand on his chest keeping you stable before he deepened the kiss, titling your head so softly as his tongue tasted your mouth, humming and swirling his tongue around yours.

He leaned back for a second to look at your expression, he was mesmerized, thumb caressing your cheek before he made you both sit down, placing you on his lap, the water reaching your neck as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I wanted you from the day I saw you, princess,” he whispered, kissing your jaw softly, holding your waist tighter.

“I’ve prayed so much to have you,” you confessed, breathing hard as you shifted on his lap, feeling his length between your thighs.

A soft sigh left your lips, his lips never leaving yours, his hands slowly moving up to touch and get familiar with every inch of your body.

He helped you get out of your slip, breath hitching as he took in your appearance, all wet and naked, breathing hard as you tried to get close to him. He wanted you.

Pulling you up, he did not waste a second before he touched your breasts, kissing and giving them all his attention. Your eyes closed shut at the sensation, soft whines leaving your lips as your hand rested on the back of his head.

“Want you,” you moaned.

“Let me know if it hurts,” he said, cupping your face, “look at me.”

He picked you up by your waist, positioning himself so that you’re just above his tip, your eyes never left his as you slowly sinked down on his cock, stretching your hole as you clenched around him, eyes closing as you felt it all.

He pulled you in a rushed kiss, slowly helping you move up and down, both of you breathing hard as you leaned your forehead against his, gripping on the hair on his nape, noses touching while you breathed the same air.

You leaned in, slowly kissing on his supple skin as you continued with your movements, his breathy groans sounding like melody to you.

His face had a look of euphoria, lower lip bitten when he pulled you in closer, moving his hips in sync with yours, the water felt warmer now, the area steamy and you could only focus on the man in front of you.

He dug his fingers deeper into your waist, helping you move up and down as your lips left noises of pleasure.

“I cannot believe you’re mine,” he breathed, stunned by your beauty and how dizzy it made him feel.

“I’ve always wanted to be yours,” you replied, eyes full of love as he held you closer when you clenched around him, thighs shaking and your high was near.

Jay couldn’t help but kiss your lips again, as if he was obsessed with them, obsessed with you.

Loud whines and deep groans filled the bathing area as you and him chased your high, him pulling you into his arms to calm down, tracing your spine and kissing your shoulder softly while you wrapped your arms around him and snuggled closer.

“I love you, princess,” he confessed, causing you to move back to look at him.

Tears filled your eyes with the amount of happiness that surged through you with his sentence.

“I love you too, prince,” you said, capturing his lips in a slow, sweet kiss.

And to end this royally, it was safe to say that they lived happily ever after.

THANK YOU FOR READING <3

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[wwinterwitch]

friendly banter — bucky barnes

summary: sam asks for your help on a mission. you're reunited with him, Joaquín and Bucky. the last one really likes to banter. you think it's just a friendly exchange. it's actually a bit more than that

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (+ platonic friendships with sam and joaquín)

word count: 5k

tags: friends to lovers, sharing feelings (awkward but cute), reader is a hacker and former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, fluff, undisclosed feelings (mutual), kissing

note: this was kind of a mess but i'm back after a long time on not writing any fics! i'm currently in my last months of studying to become a lawyer (yay) and writing fics has proven to be very therapeutic during this time. this may or may not suck but i enjoyed writing it so i hope you enjoy it

please reblog and/or comment if you enjoy!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist | part 2 (features the thunderbolts* now)

"Got eyes on it?"

You stop walking as soon as you hear that question, staring ahead in disbelief. "You mean...the huge panel in the middle of the room?" you ask with obvious sarcasm, trying to speak as quietly as possible through your comm as you make your way further inside the darkened room.

It’s a typical security room with tons of cameras pointing to every corner of the building. To your relief, the presence of your group is apparently still unnoticed as your eyes wander across the various screens in front of you, noticing no commotion or an unnecessarily large group of unfriendly-looking guys rushing to find you. The large panel control installed in the middle of the desk before you is the thing that immediately gets your attention as you walk closer, always keeping in mind the task at hand.

All you really have to do is hack into the system to disable the security protocols long enough for Sam and Joaquín to sneak into the top floors of the building to retrieve the data that they wanted from the bad guy's records in order to find out more about the gang they'll be (hopefully) putting behind bars soon.

This is not the first and definitely not the last time you'll be doing these kinds of favors for Sam. Your friendship goes way back, when you were still a nobody at S.H.I.E.L.D. that somehow managed to get on Captain America's good graces after that whole Washington fiasco. You're still unsure why Steve always thought so highly of you. Then again, he was the type of guy who never failed to see the potential in other people, even when they couldn't quite see it themselves.

Now, you get to help the new Captain America, who's also as dear to you as the previous one was...perhaps just a tiny bit more annoying, but one of your dearest friends regardless.

As you rush over to the panel, you have to jump over the unconscious body of a security guard that Bucky (another dear friend you met thanks to Steve) took care of before you walked inside, quickly taking a seat in front of the large keyboard to start doing your part of the job.

You hear the unmistakable chuckle from Joaquín as you quickly type in a series of codes and commands. "Jeez, I missed having you on our missions!"

"Awwh!" you mutter with genuine endearment. "I missed being part of these missions too, buddy!"

"And we're still going out for drinks after this, right?"

"Are you genuinely asking me that, Joaquín Torres?" you ask, sounding overly offended on purpose.

You hear him laugh again, but before he can say anything back, you hear Bucky interrupting the exchange. "How about we focus on not getting caught here and then you guys can discuss your night plans?"

"Uh-oh, old man got upset," you joke soon after, finishing to type in the last few codes to fully disable the security system. Surely they have some backup protocol that would soon trigger the alarm to alert these guys of an unwanted visitor, but by then all of you will be long gone. It really is a very simple mission.

"He's jealous you're not taking him out for drinks," Sam jokes back, and then you immediately hear Joaquín agreeing with him.

It's a normal occurrence for Sam to be making those kinds of jokes involving you and Bucky. He has been making those types of remarks for as long as you can remember, fully convinced the two of you "have something going on" as he has put it before. You really try not to think too much about it because, first off, Sam loves to say shit just for the sake of pissing you and Bucky off and, second...you really don't want to let those comments get to your head.

You don't want to let yourself wonder about the what if's of that. There was a time in your life when you did allow yourself to fantasize about the possibility of actually "having something going on" with him, but you learnt to shut off that part of your brain in order to avoid getting your hopes up regarding a situation that just wouldn't happen outside your imagination. Hearing Sam’s silly remarks would only bring you back to those days.

Bucky has been one of your best friends for years and he has never shown the slightest of hints that he might be interested in you in the way you would like (at least not that you're aware of), and there was absolutely no way that you would ever make the first move and risk embarrassing yourself in front of him or, even worse, losing the friendship you two have. You eventually just got comfortable in the abyss of eternal friendzone and learned to accept it. If there was ever going to happen something between the two of you, surely it would've happened by now.

Still, Sam seems to be holding onto that rope for dear life and refuses to let it go. You can't deny it’s a bit uncomfortable to hear those jokes though. They somehow make you feel like somehow you got caught and everyone knows you have a secret crush on Bucky, but you've learned to adapt over the years.

"First part's done.” Leaning back on the chair, you watch the percentage bar on the screen before you, completely ignoring Sam's little joke. "A few more seconds and you're up guys!"

"Hallway’s clear," you hear Bucky say, still guarding the room where you're currently in. "How much time do we have to get out of here?"

"Uh...I can't say for sure. Anywhere near five to thirty, maybe?"

"Minutes?"

"Seconds."

"Oh, great," he mutters ironically.

"Well, I'm sorry. We're hacking into a very sophisticated system that I don't entirely know how it works!" you snap back at him. "Besides, the whole point of this is to give Joaquín and Sam enough time to sneak inside without having to deal with a bunch of guards going straight for them. Bad guys will know we're down here and they'll come looking for us first."

"Isn't hacking your whole thing? How do you not know how it works?" he asks, and just by the tone of his voice you know he's trying to piss you off, because he knows that's exactly the type of comments that would make you upset. If that type of comment came from a stranger you would be strangling them right now, but it’s Bucky, and he seems to enjoy annoying the shit out of you.

"Big talk coming from someone who still asks for my help because he barely knows how to unlock his own phone."

The sound of his faint chuckle immediately makes you smile, perfectly picturing the way he's probably rolling his eyes just barely right now, trying to suppress a smirk as if you could possibly see him right now, knowing he hates when you point it out to him.

"You have to give me some credit, though. I know how to program emails on that thing now. Soon enough I'll be taking your job, so you better watch out."

You can't help but laugh at his reply, slightly shaking your head as you realize you’re getting distracted by him, trying to keep your focus on what you're supposed to be doing right now rather than indulge in a never ending back-and-forth with him. As soon as you type the last codes and the large SECURITY SYSTEM: DISABLED alert pops on the monitor, you quickly rise up from your seat. "You're up guys, hurry!"

"On it!" Sam replies as you rush outside the room.

Before he even says anything to you, Bucky is quickly guiding you down the hallway with the intent of getting out of there as soon as possible, turning to look at you with a confused expression when you stop walking and, instead, start yanking his arm to go in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?"

"The exit is that way," you point out as if it’s obvious.

He looks even more confused now, and slightly annoyed. "Don't think so. That's the way we entered, but there's another way of leaving this place a lot faster."

"No, we can't change the plan!"

He definitely looks annoyed now, trying not to snap at you. "I'm not changing the plan. Exiting that way has always been the plan. If we go that way, we'll-"

Before he can say anything else, the loud sound of an alarm blasts through the entire building, signaling that you've been discovered and you'll be having company very soon. As if that wasn't enough, the door of the room you were previously in opens violently, and the guard that was previously unconscious on the floor is frantically alerting more people through his radio.

“Oh, that’s great,” you point out, slightly panicking right now because you’re still inside the building. “You decided to wake up early, huh?”

Bucky immediately grabs the guy by his bulletproof vest to throw him against the wall, taking his barely regained consciousness to his advantage. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice about six other guys coming towards you, turning around the same corner you wanted to run towards as part of your escape plan. Sadly, that's when you realized maybe the direction Bucky was suggesting was better.

You’re unsure of what to do now. It's not like you haven't been taught how to take down a few bad guys, but your specialities have always involved computers rather than physical combat. Almost as if he could read your mind, Bucky turns towards you for a quick second. "Go! I'll catch up to you." Again, almost as if he knew that you'd try to ask if he was sure about it, he immediately shouts yet another "Go!" before you're finally deciding to do as he says, running down the hall in the direction he has intended to go before.

Hours later, second after second that passes by, you’re more and more convinced that you'll never hear the end of it. If only you could go back in time and just agree with Bucky's plan rather than trying to argue with him. It would have spared you a lifetime of him reminding you how he was right and you were wrong.

Turns out his exit plan was the one you should've followed all along, because it actually led to the engine room which immediately meant being in a much less crowded part of the building to escape without risking bumping into more people.

All of you had enough time to change into something more comfortable to go out for drinks. Initially it was something you and Joaquín had planned alone, but evidently the two of you didn’t hesitate to invite Sam and Bucky. Of course they accepted the invite, and of course Bucky has done his very best to keep reminding you of your little mistake.

"Listen, if you don't want shit like that to happen again, just let me know your plan beforehand."

"But I did let you know. The problem is that someone is not really a good listener."

"No. Letting me know- like, properly letting me know, would've been telling me before we got inside that building."

Bucky smirks as he leans back on his chair, and it's obvious to you he's really enjoying this banter. "Plan changed at the last minute. If you would've just followed my lead, we could've left that building a lot faster."

"Ah, so you do recognize that wasn't the original plan!" you exclaim with a triumphant grin, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You changed it all by yourself and didn't tell me."

"Changed at the last minute," he repeats, as if to correct you. "You wanted me to stand there and explain every detail to you?"

"Oh, as if explaining it would've taken you hours! You’re always so dramatic."

"Children," Sam commented, interrupting the banter with an unamused expression. "I had to trust the operation to literal children."

Bucky scoffs at that comment, watching as Sam lets out a chuckle, shaking his head after witnessing this whole interaction between the two of you.

"Kinda makes you appreciate having an actual professional around, huh?" Joaquín says right after, flashing a charming smile in Sam's direction.

"Oh, please!" you, Bucky and Sam reply in unison, earning an offended look from Joaquín.

Soon after, Bucky is speaking again. "You know what? I'll give you some credit. You managed to do your part of the job…decently."

It’s obvious he wants a reaction from you, but even if your banter is entertaining, you know you can't keep bickering the entire night. Once again, you can’t help but to feel embarrassed, as if everyone at that table knows your little secret regarding your feelings towards Bucky. As if some innocent banter between friends could ever give it away. Besides, the four of you are here to celebrate your mission was a success, and the fact that you haven't seen the trio in a long time makes it the perfect opportunity to catch up.

Pretending to fully ignore his last comment, you turn to look at Sam from across the table. "You. I haven't seen your lovely face in a while," you start, watching him physically get ready for whatever silly comment you might come up with. "Tell me what you've been up to...I've seen the photos of you shaking hands with the President," the reference to Everett Ross sounding anything but endearing.

Sam sighs, shrugging. "Yeah, well, I guess you can say it's part of the job," he simply replies before taking a quick sip of his beer. "I can't say I'm thrilled about it, but I figured it's best to compromise a bit and keep the man happy. As long as he stays in line, I'll cooperate."

"Of course you're not thrilled about it, Sam. That's the same guy that put your ass in a prison in the middle of nowhere like you were some kind of top security criminal!" you reply almost immediately, still in disbelief at the revelation of any sort of alliance between him and Ross. Sam's expression lets you know that even he is still conflicted about it, not really knowing what to say. After taking a brief pause, you try to say something else to lighten the mood, not wanting him to think like you’re judging him for it. "Hey, I understand having to keep up appearances. I get it. And please accept my deepest condolences for having to deal with that piece of shit."

Your last comment makes the three of them laugh, and Bucky takes the opportunity to change the subject. "And what have you been up to?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious. "It's been a while since any of us has seen you."

"Well, my life has been all over the place the last few months. As all of you know, I moved into a new apartment. I loved my roommate, but I felt it was time to just live by myself, you know?"

"So no plans of leaving New York to move to D.C., huh?" Joaquín asks with a smile.

You return the smile immediately. "As fun as it would be to live closer to all of you weirdos, no. I plan to stay in New York for now. I'm just really comfortable there with the new apartment, the promotion I got a few months ago, the fact that most of my family and friends are there..."

"But not all your friends," Sam quickly points out, pretending to sound incredibly offended by your last statement. "But since we’re talking about friends and just social life in general...are you still single?"

"Why are you always so interested in my love life?" you joke with a playful grin, taking a sip of your margarita to leave him wondering the answer just a few seconds more. "Yes, I'm still single. Queen's full of creeps," you added shortly after. "Are any of you seeing anybody?"

"Proudly and happily single," Joaquín replies, raising his drink up as if to cheer before taking a sip.

Sam gives him a very visible side-eye. "Yikes," is all he says regarding that, turning back to you. "I'm not interested in dating right now, to be honest. I’m quite a busy gentleman, you know?" 

“And you say ‘yikes’ to me?” Joaquín says immediately after, looking dumbfounded.

You chime in before any of them could add anything else regarding that. “Bucky?” you ask, turning to look at him as you await his answer.

It was a bold move to directly ask him that question. On one hand, you know Bucky has always been a loner so you’re almost certain that he’s single. But there’s always that tiny percentage of probability that you’ll learn a truth you’re not sure how you’ll handle. He’s your best friend, of course you’ll be happy if he’s happy…but the idea of him revealing to you that he’s dating someone might actually make you physically sick.

You notice Bucky gets uncomfortable right away. “I’m single too.”

The pleasant feeling of relief lasts just a few seconds. The fact that Sam laughs at Bucky’s reply has your mind spinning, not understanding why he would laugh at that. Why the fuck is he laughing? Should you start panicking already?

"Actually, our buddy has been on a few dating apps, I believe."

Oh no. 

Even when you try to remind yourself not to care about anything remotely romantic involving Bucky- or at least, not to care more than a platonic friend would, you can deny the news of him possibly dating someone or even just randomly talking to any person in those apps makes your stomach turn. It really wouldn't be dramatic to claim that you could quite literally throw up right now at the thought of him and someone else right now.

It's not common to hear any sort of updates regarding Bucky's love life because...well, there's never any developments. He's never shown interest in anyone, and as far as you know he's never had any sort of relationship with anyone like that– serious or casual. What if he's interested in exploring that part of his life now? What if he has found someone already and you're about to hear him talk all about them? It makes you genuinely sick, but you try your best to act as unbothered as you possibly can, forcing you to mask your disgust and heartbreak with pleasant surprise.

"Is that so?" is all you say.

He looks even more uncomfortable by the subject, choosing to look down at his almost finished beer. "It's not...I was just trying to put myself out there," he says awkwardly, shrugging. "Long story short, online dating is not for me. I hated it."

You could tell he doesn’t really like talking about this subject, so you try to quickly ease the tension with a bit of humor. Besides, you're probably better off without hearing anything regarding that topic anyway. "It's because you couldn't figure out how the whole swiping thing worked, isn't it?"

Bucky immediately seems to relax with your joke, chuckling a bit. "It took me a few days actually." He takes a quick pause before continuing. "I probably should've asked you for help."

If there was any hidden message behind his last statement, it completely goes over your head because you genuinely thought it was just part of your playful banter regarding his lack of skills when it comes to technology. You laugh, and in return Bucky offers you a smile because that's as much hinting as he dares to do out loud, especially if Sam and Joaquín are sitting right there. He's incredibly used to you never getting his subtle implications anyway.

In front of you, the other two guys are watching this exchange unfold, and it's hard to tell which one of them has a bigger urge to tell you to stop being so fucking oblivious already. As subtle as he can be, Joaquín pokes Sam's side with his elbow to give him a quick heads-up before speaking. "Considering everyone's almost finished, Sam and I are getting another round of drinks."

The two of them are standing up when they notice you're grabbing your purse and standing up as well. "Oh, I can go with you. I have to go to the restroom anyway."

The two of them want to yet again yell at you to please get a grip on the situation, but Sam just silently takes a seat as you and Joaquín go over to the bar, quickly telling him what you want to order before heading towards the restroom.

A few drinks later the four of you are finally leaving the bar. Sam and Joaquín left to their respective houses while you and Bucky shared an Uber back to his own place. He was kind enough to let you crash in his spare room for the night. It's not like this is the first time you've ever stayed at his apartment when you visit the boys, but you can't deny the idea is both thrilling and terrifying- not like anything would happen to make you feel like that...you two are just friends...but, still...your silly head likes to get silly ideas sometimes.

Deciding not to indulge in your little fantasies, you decide to start a conversation. "Update on the food?" you ask, turning to look at Bucky, who sits comfortably on the sofa of his living room.

"Like ten minutes away," he says, taking a quick look at the screen. "How come you haven't congratulated me for knowing how to order food with this thing?" he added with evident surprise, making you chuckle.

"Because you keep saying 'this thing' like it's some mysterious device completely unknown to mankind," you reply, and before you can stop yourself, you continue. "It's cute, I guess, so congratulations."

Bucky's grin grows wider. "Oh, so it's cute?"

You try really hard not to panic, feeling incredibly embarrassed. The fact that he seems to be enjoying what you just said makes it even worse, because you know he’ll use that to tease you now. He just finds any possible excuse to do it. "Cute as in lame."

He chuckles. "Right."

Not knowing what else to say, you clear your throat before walking towards him, taking a seat next to him as you try to come up with something else to change the subject immediately. "I'm starving," is all you say, mentally scolding you for such a poor effort.

As soon as you're sitting, you unsuccessfully try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he leans just a bit closer...perhaps if you weren't hyper vigilant whenever the two of you are too near you might've missed it. And then, he stretches his arm across the back of the sofa, right behind you.

For a second, you even thought of mocking him for such a move, but bringing more attention to it would only make you that much nervous, and you really don't want to embarrass yourself. And most importantly, you don't want your silly mind and your silly heart to get their hopes up. You're just friends, nothing else.

"Me too," he agrees, the playful grin on his face still not disappearing. "Might have to steal a few fries from you."

"Oh, I'd really like to see you try stealing my food," you reply in the same playful tone, leaning just a little closer to him without even noticing that you were actually doing that.

"I think I deserve some compensation after what happened today. You know, for all the unnecessary ass-kicking I had to do."

"Just when I thought you had moved on from that!" you reply, jokingly slapping his knee. "It wasn't my fault, it was yours for not telling me the plan on time!"

"You should've just trusted me," he insists. "But you always have to be right on everything..."

You know he's joking. There's something about bantering with you that seems to absolutely fascinate him. "Yeah, and you always want to piss me off."

Bucky chuckles again, and that's when you feel his hand gently resting on your shoulder, his arm fully around you. What the actual fuck is going on. "What, you think I like pissing you off?" he asks, tone slightly lower than before, which inevitably makes the butterflies in your stomach multiply. "Is that why you think I do it?"

You were quiet for a moment, your brain not entirely registering what's happening. "I mean...yeah."

He stops for a second, and you almost see a hint of hesitation on his face before he speaks, letting out a frustrated sigh. "For someone who claims to be so much more clever than anyone else, I would've expected you to figure it out sooner," he starts, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I've been actually flirting with you, doll."

The comment evidently takes you by surprise and all you can do is to stare back at him like a complete fool. His arm around your shoulders, the proximity, the fact he had the fucking audacity to call you that nickname...did you somehow fall asleep on his couch without noticing and this is the type of oddly-realistic dream your brain decided to come up with? Are you still standing there like a fool just fantasizing and this one just got way too immersive? And did he really just say that he's been flirting with you?

Noticing you weren't saying anything, he decides to continue, looking a little hesitant and disappointed with your silence. "You know, it'd be really nice if you say something..."

"Awful way to flirt," is all you could come up with, which immediately makes him burst out laughing. 

"Maybe," he agrees. "But I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out. I mean…Sam and Joaquín did a long time ago."

"The three of you share the same brain cell, of course they figured it out a long time ago,” you reply, still in complete shock to be having this conversation with him. Were you really that blind? "You could’ve just asked me."

"You know I'm not direct like that," he replies, and the shy look on his face almost makes your heart melt. "Like I said, I was relying on your impressive intelligence to figure it out."

You let out a soft chuckle after his last comment, immediately giving him a warning look. "Don't." He looks back at you for a few seconds, almost wanting to challenge you after noticing the way you’re looking at him. Soon enough, he’s unable to hide his smirk anymore. "There it is," you point out, knowing he hates that.

Bucky lets out a soft grunt as a complaint, resting his head on your shoulder. Encouraged, you immediately move a hand up to his hair, affectionately playing with it. The two of you stay like that, simply enjoying being so close to each other. It feels incredibly right.

"So how do you feel?" he eventually asks, perhaps feeling braver to ask now that he doesn’t have to look into your eyes when he does.

You don’t reply right away, still feeling incredibly nervous despite knowing he does like you back. Eventually, you do build up the courage to say something. "I like you. Like, a lot."

Bucky moves back to look at you know. The look on his face gives you the impression that he wasn’t expecting you to be so honest with your answer, perhaps expecting another silly joke or sarcastic remark. And even though you thought about the possibility of choosing a more humorous approach, after keeping your feelings for him locked up and stored away for so long, you really needed to just say it.

Instead of saying something back, Bucky tightens his grip around your shoulders just enough, using his other hand to grab your chin right before kissing you. It certainly takes you by surprise, but you're quickly returning the kiss as you just completely melt in his arms, still trying to convince yourself that this is not some kind of hyper-realistic dream.

His hand swiftly moves to your cheek as the kiss continues, the gesture so incredibly delicate, a sharp contrast with the pure need he’s transmitting through the kiss. It’s desperate, passionate, intense…like he’s been waiting an entire lifetime to finally be able to experience this, grateful for the absolute privilege that it is to kiss you.

One of your hands moves up to the back of his neck and your touch seems to encourage him that much more because before you know it, he's taking the opportunity to gently bite your bottom lip, right before continuing to make out with you.

Much to yours and Bucky's disappointment, the sound of his apartment's doorbell echoes through the apartment, indicating the food you previously ordered has arrived.

He reluctantly pulls away with a soft grunt. "Food's here," he comments out loud, offering you a soft smile. He takes a brief moment to look at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek in an affectionate manner, dreading the idea of having to leave this couch. "I'll get it."

"I can help," you offer almost immediately.

Instead of replying right away, he leans in for a short kiss. "I'll get it," he insists, quickly making his way to the door after another buzz could be heard.

You sat in his living room in complete disbelief of what just happened, thankful that he's not here right now to see your goofy smile and blushed cheeks. He'd probably tease you to no end if he did see that.

Not knowing what else to do, you immediately reach for your phone, opening your messages. You knew exactly who would be the right people to share the news with.

'uhm so we just kissed??????' you texted, the first message in the group chat you just created with Sam and Joaquín.

Joaquín is the first one to reply. 'HELL YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!'

'FUCKING FINALLY.' Sam texts shortly after.

[sixeyesonathiel]

yearning nerdjo x shy reader, fluff & humor.

a/n: this is so embarrassing bc this is literally how miserable i am irl.

satoru is down so bad it’s starting to rot his brain. like. visibly. tangibly. his leg’s bouncing under the desk like it’s on fast-forward, the heel of his sneaker thudding rhythmically against the floor tile like a metronome set to desperation. his fingers are drumming nonsense rhythms onto his scratched-up laptop case like he’s trying to decode the algorithm of your absence—tap-tap-tap, pause, tap-tap, like morse code for where is she. his eyes—red-rimmed behind silver-rimmed glasses with one slightly crooked arm—keep flicking to the lab’s entrance like he expects you to materialize in a puff of soft pink mist.

his hoodie’s three days old, and it shows: the sleeves stretched from him pulling them over his hands, the fabric bunched at the elbows. his white t-shirt underneath has a tiny ketchup stain from wednesday’s lunch. the keychain you gave him—blue enamel cat, chipped at the ear—dangles off his pencil pouch like a beacon. his code’s running fine. tabs are hyper-organized. debugging queue nonexistent. he even fixed suguru’s late-night python spiral that nearly bricked the department printer and summoned the wrath of the IT gods.

but it doesn’t matter. because you’re not here.

he’s been looking. he’s always looking.

in the hallway, in the cafeteria, in the reflection of vending machine glass. he leans his stupid giraffe neck around corners like he’s expecting a spontaneous reveal. he scopes out lecture halls he’s not even enrolled in, notebook in hand just in case. every time he hears the soft shuffle of flats in the distance, his head snaps toward it like a bloodhound. he’s started recognizing the rhythm of your steps versus every other pair on campus. your soft-soled shoes tap lighter. more deliberate. his ears practically perk up when he hears a backpack zipper. once he dropped his pen and nearly dislocated his neck looking up, thinking it was you.

and every time it’s not you, his expression glitches—eyes dimming, mouth tightening like his soul just flatlined. it's pathetic. it's art.

he sits sideways in group study like he’s waiting for you to pass by the window. laptop askew. chair half-turned. a ridiculous image—this lanky nerd in a grey hoodie and cargo pants with one pant leg caught in his sock, white wires tangled in his ears and dark under-eyes that make him look like he’s been stress-coding in a cave. (he hasn’t slept. not really. he keeps replaying the way you laughed that one time you dropped your highlighter. it echoes like holy scripture.)

his glasses are smudged. he keeps adjusting them, even when they’re fine. his knuckles are red from resting his chin on them too hard. he keeps fidgeting with your keychain when he’s not typing. thumb brushing over the worn metal, like he’s afraid it’ll disappear if he doesn’t keep touching it. a nervous tic disguised as reverence.

“dude,” suguru says, from two monitors over, voice dry, hair tied up in a lazy half-bun. “you haven’t scrolled in thirty minutes.”

suguru’s slouched in his chair, hoodie sleeves rolled to the elbows, rings tapping against his thermos. his screen's frozen on a meme. he hasn’t blinked in five minutes.

“maybe she’ll walk by,” satoru murmurs, eyes locked on the frosted glass wall outside the lab, hunched forward with his chin on his palm, as if willing your silhouette into existence.

“you said that an hour ago.”

“maybe she’s shy today. maybe she’s building up the courage. maybe she dropped her student ID and fate’s guiding her back here. what if the universe is lining up our pixels right now, suguru? what if—”

“she’s shy every day.”

“and that’s what makes it beautiful,” satoru sighs, dreamily. he stares out the window like a man in a tragic romance film. “she’s mysterious. like a foggy horizon at sea. you don’t know what she’s thinking, and that’s the best part. she could be plotting world domination. she could be drawing cats in the margins of her notes. it’s art.”

suguru groans into his hoodie sleeve.

and then like a glitch in the matrix. like god reached down and clicked “unmute” on the simulation—you pass by.

no footsteps. no warning. just a blur of your jacket sleeve on his left peripheral, and he flinches so hard he nearly spills his water bottle. the water sloshes. he slaps the bottle upright. you’re so close. the scent of your shampoo—jasmine and something warm, like vanilla and late-night bookstores—floods his senses. his head whips around before he can even think, pupils blown wide behind his crooked glasses, mouth parted like a cartoon character seeing a pie on a windowsill.

your gaze meets his.

not one second.

two.

wide eyes. startled. curious. the slope of your brows twitch upward slightly, and your lashes flutter—a beat too long, like a reflex or a stutter in time. your lips part just slightly, like you meant to say something—but don’t. your fingers tug at your sleeve, pulling it over your knuckles in that way you always do when you’re flustered. a half-step pause. your mouth twitches, just barely, like you might’ve smiled. then your gaze drops, your shoulders stiffening as your pace quickens, like you’re embarrassed to have looked at all. your fingers curl tighter around your binder. there’s a sticker on it he hadn’t noticed before.

and that’s it. you’re gone.

satoru slaps both hands over his face and releases a sound that is one part gasp, one part squeal, one part glitching modem.

“oh my god,” he whispers. “oh my god, she looked at me. TWO SECONDS, suguru. TWO. that’s statistically significant. that’s a scientific breakthrough. that’s… that’s eye contact with depth. it had nuance. it had arcs.”

“you’re not well.”

“no, listen. the way her eyes flickered? like she wasn’t sure if she should look away or say something? and her lashes twitched, just a bit. like she was nervous. did you see her hand? she pulled her sleeve down. she only does that when she’s flustered. i know. i’ve studied her. i’ve got timestamps. i’ve got spreadsheets.”

“you’re insane.”

“i’m in love.”

satoru slumps in his chair, limbs sprawling dramatically, glasses askew. he exhales like he’s just seen god. his knee knocks into the desk. his sock has a hole in the toe. the corner of his laptop screen catches the light and reflects a faint shimmer onto the ceiling, and it feels, to him, like stars. his fingers are still frozen mid-air, clutching the keychain like it’s the only proof the moment happened.

“i’m gonna marry her,” he says. “drop out, become a florist. i’ll propose with baby’s breath and carnations—those are her favorites, don’t ask me how i know. maybe a little lavender tucked in. something gentle. delicate. a bouquet that says ‘i know your soul.’”

“you need help.”

“i’ve named our cats already. ichigo, milky, and toblerone. toblerone’s the shy one. milky’s chaotic evil. ichigo wears a little red bow tie. we’ll live in a little flat above a cafe and drink lavender lattes. she’ll wear soft sweaters. she’ll draw comics on sticky notes. i’ll iron her lab coat. it'll be perfect.”

“she doesn’t even know your name.”

“wrong,” satoru says smugly, lifting a single finger like he’s presenting hard evidence. “she knows me as the guy who always looks left and right like a cracked-out meerkat. that’s recognition. that’s brand awareness.”

“romantic.”

“don’t be jealous just ‘cause she didn’t look at you.”

“she’s cute, i guess.”

“NO.” satoru jolts upright like he’s been electrocuted. “DON’T even THINK about perceiving her. your eyes? shut them. your brain? turn it off. opinions? delete them. she’s too good for this world. if anyone’s going to romanticize her, it’s me. with accuracy. and passion. and nuance. only i’m allowed to think she’s cute. and i do. constantly. it’s my full-time job.”

“fine, jeez.”

“say she’s ugly, then.”

“what?? no??”

“exactly. you can’t. because she’s perfect. ethereal. a goddess walking among midterms and overpriced coffee. and she blinked slow, too, did you notice? it was like… like a signal. maybe morse code. she’s trying to tell me something. she’s reaching out. spiritually. through kinetic energy and eye twitches.”

suguru closes his laptop with the tired resolve of someone preparing for battle.

satoru, still glowing with delusion, goes back to staring at the glass wall, head tilted, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“she looked left,” he murmurs. “that’s my side. she always looks left.”

he swears his hoodie still smells like you.

[wqnsho]

crossroads | hwang in-ho x fem! reader

*.✧ synopsis: after losing his wife, hwang in-ho buried his emotions. but when he meets you, a player in his deadly games, his carefully guarded walls begin to crumble, forcing him to confront feelings he thought he’d left behind. *.✧ word count: 20.3k (i'm deadass) *.✧ warnings: squidgame season 2 spoilers, violence, death, mentions of exploitation and abduction, implied suicide, additional character (player 143 - zoey, from kpop demon hunters), usage korean words and suffixes, angst, fluff. reader has no canon age but has a kid. backstory is inspired by acrobatic silky from dandadan. your number will be 132. *.✧ note: requests are open! (please). I wrote this to the entirety of squidgame season 2, so it's gonna be long. (from the second game till the end). changed the oc from hanni to zoey, I love zoey, she is my fave, and she fits the character I had in mind. part 2 will be posted once season 3 comes out :D i love in-ho so much he's so yummy. masterlist | request here

As everyone shuffled into the area for the second game, Hwang In-ho smirked beneath his mask, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. Among the players, Gi-hun stood out, his gaze darting around the unfamiliar room. Instead of the playground with shapes on the walls that promised, the players were met with two gigantic circles on the floor. Discontent quickly erupted as the crowd realized they’d been tricked. Voices rose in anger, some calling him a fraud, others voicing their disappointment. Most dispersed in frustration, but In-ho, ever the calculated observer, comforted his "friend" with feigned concern. Inside, however, he was ecstatic.

In-ho, operating undercover as "Young-il," watched Gi-hun carefully. He observed the way his mind worked, his expressions shifting as he processed the situation. Every movement and every decision captivated him. This “hero” was an enigma In-ho couldn’t stop studying.

The guards began dictating the rules of the second game. Instead of the anticipated Dalgona candy challenge, players were introduced to the Six-Legged Pentathlon. Teams of five would have their legs tied together and had to complete a pentathlon on a circular path within five minutes. Failure meant elimination.

The scramble to form teams began. In-ho found himself grouped with Gi-hun and two others, players 388 and 390. They needed one more member, and player 388 eagerly volunteered to recruit. Soon, he returned with player 096. Before they could finalize, a loud yet nervous voice interrupted them.

"Excuse me, can she join your group?"

All eyes turned to you and another woman, player 222. Your determined gaze contrasted with 222’s startled expression.

In-ho’s eyes scanned you, noting the [hair characteristic] [hair color] hair framing your tired but kind [eye color] eyes. Your presence radiated something unusual for this cutthroat environment. As 222 tugged at your arm, whispering protests, you stood firm, making it clear your decision was final.

"I'm sorry, but we're already—" In-ho began, only to be cut off.

"Please," you pleaded, your voice steady. "She's pregnant."

The words hung in the air, silencing any objections. Reluctantly, they agreed, replacing 096 with 222. You bowed deeply in gratitude, offering an apologetic smile to 096 before turning to leave.

"I'm really sorry about that," you said earnestly. "But if you'd like, can you team up with me? I'm very skilled at gonggi. I promise! Cross my heart!"

Player 096 hesitated before nodding, following you to form a new team. As you and 096 walked away, two pairs of eyes lingered on you—In-ho’s, as he silently praised your selflessness, and 222’s, her expression a mix of guilt, gratitude, and betrayal.

In-ho couldn’t shake his fascination. Your kindness, despite in a setting like this, reminded him of someone dear, slowly stirring feelings he thought long buried.

Luck favored In-ho’s team; they were the last to compete. This allowed ample time to strategize as they observed the others. Your team’s turn came, and In-ho found himself unexpectedly invested. You and your teammates executed the challenges flawlessly, clearing the first four games in under three minutes. As your team moved on to the final station, In-ho couldn’t suppress a small sigh of relief. But that relief quickly turned to tension when the last player started messing up.

In-ho’s gaze never wavered from you. He knew your team was skilled, but with only 30 seconds left, the stakes were higher now. His heart raced, the pressure mounting as the seconds ticked down. Would they pull it off? The jegi soared into the air, and In-ho held his breath, watching with bated anticipation. The first kick, then the second, the third… each landing perfectly, and still, there was no room for error. It was the final kick that would determine everything. His pulse quickened as your teammate sent the jegi flying, and with one flawless strike after another, they nailed the fifth and final kick.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but all In-ho could hear was the pounding of his own heart. The relief that washed over him felt far too intense. He paused. Why was he cheering so loudly? Why was he worried? His eyes lingered on you as your team crossed the finish line, your victory adding warmth to his chest that he couldn’t explain.

His mind raced, trying to shake off the strange emotions. But then—[eye color] clashed with his black ones, and the world around him seemed to stop for a brief, breathless moment. There was no game, no betrayals, no stakes. It was just the two of you, alone in your own world. You gave him a small wave, and his chest tightened. He waved back, but the gesture felt like a lifetime of unspoken words.

As you were escorted away, the warmth lingered, and In-ho stood there, rooted to the spot, wondering why his chest felt so heavy and yet so alive.

Back in the main area, you found yourself bonding with a cheerful teen, Player 143. Since the first game, you, 143, and 222 had found a quiet camaraderie. You found 143 comforting 222 at the corner at the finish line and decided that you’ll protect those two with all your might. 143 had a bubbly energy that reminded you of home. Her lighthearted teasing about your "crush" on 001 made you laugh, despite the grim circumstances.

"Sure, sure, whatever you say, you little rascal," you replied, ruffling her hair. Her youthful spirit was a balm in this harsh environment, offering a welcome distraction from the tension of the games.

The conversation shifted as she shared bits of her past. Zoey, as she revealed, told you that her debt stemmed from her moving from one country to another. She emphasized that the change from America to Korea was hard; her talent in singing and songwriting became her only salvation. She also shared that one day, she hopes to be in a girl group that uses their voices to fight for what is right. Despite the weight of her story, she kept her optimism, her dreams still burning brightly. You couldn't help but wonder how someone so young had ended up in such a terrible game, but something was inspiring about her ability to hold onto hope in such a hopeless place.

When she asked about you, you hesitated for a moment but then decided to share. "My name’s [Name]," you began. "I’m a fashion designer and a part-time preschool teacher. I also… have a talent for guns."

Zoey’s eyes widened in surprise. "Guns? How does that fit into designing clothes and teaching kids?"

You chuckled softly. "It’s a long story. Let’s just say I’ve always been drawn to shooting ranges. It started as a hobby, and somehow, it turned into something I’m pretty good at."

You paused, feeling the weight of the conversation shift. The topic of your debt hung in the air. You faltered, not sure whether to open up, but the teen’s unassuming curiosity made you want to share more.

However, before you could speak, the last group of players returned, signifying the end of the game. Zoey immediately perked up, her attention shifting to Player 001 and their group as they found a place to sit together, which was conveniently located just a few steps from your bed. She gave you a sly grin before playfully pointing toward him with her eyebrows.

"Hey, hey, unnie! Look, it’s your man!" she whispered-yelled, clearly enjoying playing matchmaker.

You chuckled before waving her off with a signal to be quiet. The last thing you needed was for word to get out about your little crush, especially in the middle of a deadly game.

As you shushed Zoey, she had other plans. With rapid hand gestures, she invited Player 222 over to your small corner. The unsuspecting woman gave the two of you a confused look before excusing herself from her group of men and heading your way.

When she reached you, you both greeted her gently, concern evident in your voices.

“Welcome back unnie! Congrats on finishing the game, I knew you could do it!”

"How are you feeling? Is the baby alright? Are you in any pain?"

Player 222, shook her head and waived off your concerns, giving a small smile. "I’m alright. Thank you for asking."

Zoey, the chatterbox, didn’t waste a moment. "By the way, unnie, can we know your name? I really don’t know what to call you other than 222. You don’t have to tell us if you’re not comfortable, though!"

Player 222 chuckled softly at the teen's eagerness. "Well, I suppose I could introduce myself." She smiled and then shared her name—Kim Jun-hee. She explained how she had been scammed, abandoned by her boyfriend, and now found herself here, in this deadly game, pregnant and alone.

You offered her your sympathy, relating to her pain. You’d been in similar situations, dealing with your own painful experiences with men over the years. "Unfortunately, we all have our stories," you said, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. "We just have to keep going, don’t we?"

The three of you sat there for a while, chatting about your pasts, your dreams, and your shared longing for a life outside of this twisted game.

"When I get out, I’ll become a popular idol! I’m gonna write our songs and rap faster than you can say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" Zoey declared excitedly, her eyes shining with ambition.

You and Jun-hee exchanged surprised glances, both of you impressed by her optimism despite everything. "You’ll definitely make it, Zoey. You have the spirit for it," Jun-hee encouraged her with a smile.

"Of course we will! And when you’re on TV, you better send us some VIP tickets for your show!" you added, making the teen beam.

"You better pose cutely for those photocards, okay?" Jun-hee teased.

Zoey shot her a playful look. "Of course! Will this pose be enough?" She asked as she gave a dramatic pose, and you all laughed.

"Hey!" Zoey looked at the two of you with an exaggerated pout. "You’re not doubting me, right?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "No, no, I’m sure you’ll make it. Just don’t forget us when you're famous, alright?"

As Zoey and Jun-hee bickered over the finer details of idol life, you couldn’t help but smile with a bittersweet feeling in your chest. These two didn’t deserve the cards they’d been dealt, and they certainly didn’t belong in this twisted game. But at least for a brief moment, you all found comfort in each other’s company.

You silently prayed for them—no, for all of you. For everyone here who didn’t deserve to be part of this nightmare. You hoped you could all make it out alive and live better lives. But deep down, you knew the path ahead would be treacherous, and the price of survival would be steep.

The conversation ended when the pink guards entered the room. Everyone watched in anticipation as the guards displayed the updated prize pool: 20.1 billion won, or 78,823,530 won per person, with 255 players still alive. The room was suddenly filled with murmurs. Most were in disbelief that the money per person was still under 100 million, some even demanded a recount. The guards paid no attention to the chatter and continued speaking.

"We always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. Therefore, you will take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not. Whether to continue the games for a bigger prize or to stop here, please feel free to exercise your right to choose in a democratic manner."

Once the guard finished speaking, Jun-hee ushered the two of you to join their group. Zoey nodded with a smirk before standing up. You rolled your eyes, hoping she wouldn't cause a scene once she made her way down. "The two of you go first. I'll follow you shortly," you said, making hand gestures for them to go ahead. Thankfully, the two of them followed without question, although you were sure Zoey whispered something to Jun-hee as they walked down the stairs.

With the girls out of sight, your gaze drifted back to the piggy bank hanging from the ceiling. ‘78 Million won...’ The number flashed in your mind, but instead of the excitement you’d hoped for, a deep sense of emptiness settled within you. Your hand unconsciously rubbed your stomach as memories of what was lost surged into your thoughts.

A pained expression flickered across your face as you stared at the money. It wasn’t enough. It could never be enough to make up for everything you had sacrificed, everything you had lost.

“Just one more game...” You whispered to no one in particular.

The moment you made your way down to the others, the group welcomed you warmly. You offered a polite smile and greeted them back. As was customary, you bowed to the familiar men you had met earlier.

"Thank you again for accepting Jun-hee into your group earlier. I’m glad you all got out safely," you said, your voice sincere.

"Ah! No, no, don’t worry about that, it’s all fine!" Player 390 immediately replied, his voice light and reassuring. He waved his hand dismissively. "If anything, we should thank you! That girl quickly finished her game, giving us much more room to breathe."

You smiled at his words, feeling a small spark of warmth. "Really? Well, I’m glad. Before we found you, she kept boasting about her skills in ddjaki and how she won multiple times with the salesman. Glad to know she wasn’t lying."

Jun-hee rolled her eyes at your comment before giving you a playful shove. You laughed, brushing it off before turning your attention back to the group.

"My name’s [Name] by the way. [Last name], [Name]. I’d rather you call me that rather than this stupid number," you said with a teasing grin.

The rest of the group followed suit, introducing themselves in turn. Player 456 was Gi-hun, Player 390 was Jung-bae, Player 388 was Dae-ho, and last but not least, Player 001 was Young-Il—whose name, when revealed, earned an unexpected pinch from Zoey. You tried not to show any discomfort at the gesture, but you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. Who were you to ruin a teenager’s fun, though?

As everyone continued to chat, the conversation quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was just nice to talk with someone, anyone, who wasn’t a threat to your survival.

“Woah, ex-marines, huh? I don’t tell this to anyone, but I do have a collection of guns at home…” you mentioned, trying to make light of the situation.

“That so?” Jung-bae remarked, his tone casual, as if discussing firearms was just another part of his day.

“Woah, that’s so cool! When did you start collecting?” Dae-ho chimed in with enthusiasm, genuinely interested.

“Let’s see... maybe when I was 19? That’s when I got introduced to shooting ranges, and that’s where my addiction started,” you replied with a nostalgic smile. The conversation felt like a brief escape from the madness of the games.

But then, just as quickly as it began, the conversation slowed. You couldn’t help but notice that, in the midst of it all, everyone was still acutely aware of the situation—life or death hung over every word. You looked up once more at the piggy bank. The money glinted in the low light, but it didn’t comfort you. It only served as a reminder of how far you had come and how much you had lost.

You stared at it for a while, lost in thought. The weight of everything—the game, the choices, the people who would never make it out��pressed down on you, and it was hard to escape the ache in your chest. Your mind wandered, consumed by memories and questions, as you stood frozen in place. Too engrossed in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice familiar black eyes fixed on you. In-ho watched your every move intently, shamelessly staring as you absentmindedly stared into oblivion. His gaze was steady, silently studying you from where he stood. But you were too lost in your thoughts to feel it. There was something about you, something he couldn’t quite place, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. It wasn’t the same as before, his cold indifference slowly shifting into something else he didn’t know how to name.

Maybe it was the way you carried yourself despite everything. Or maybe it was the faint sadness he saw in your eyes, something that mirrored his own. But as he continued to watch, something unfamiliar stirred inside him, an unsettling warmth that didn’t make sense, something that he thought he stopped feeling a long time ago. He quickly turned his attention away, pretending to focus on the group.

But that warmth lingered, an ache in his chest that refused to fade. What was it about you?

Zoey gave you a playful shove, snapping you out of your trance. Her bright smile flickered for a moment, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. You could feel her gaze linger on you, a slight shift in her expression that suggested she noticed something was off. You returned a hesitant smile, one that you hoped would mask the swirl of thoughts in your mind.

As the group huddled up, you quickly placed your hand on top of the pile, trying to shake off the discomfort despite the underlying tension. Zoey’s smile faded as she watched you, her eyes narrowing just slightly. Something in her seemed to pause, a flicker of doubt creeping into her gaze as if she was starting to see through the facade you were putting up.

It was as if she could tell that there was more to looks, something that wasn’t quite aligned with what you let on. But, instead of pressing, Zoey gave a soft shrug, her playful demeanor returning. Yet, the doubt lingered in her eyes, like she wasn’t fully convinced of the person she found comfort in.

"In one, two, three... Victory at all costs!" Zoey and Dae-ho shouted, their voice full of energy despite the dark atmosphere.

"Victory at all costs!"

"This time, the vote will begin with Player 001. Player 001, please cast your vote."

Young-il's gaze swept over the six of you, his eyes calm, but with an unwavering trust and determination in them. He nodded subtly at Gi-hun, as he began to move forward without hesitation. As he stepped up to cast his vote, you exchanged a brief, fleeting moment of eye contact with Young-il. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, but there was something else there too. You couldn't quite place it, but it made your chest tighten. The moment passed quickly, and you looked away, focusing on the task at hand.

When it was finally your time to vote, you felt the weight of everyone's eyes on you, but you didn’t allow yourself to meet anyone’s gaze. You couldn’t stomach the judgment, the disappointment that would be there. Instead, you stepped forward, heart pounding, and pressed the "O" button, committing to the choice you knew you had to make. A cold knot formed in your stomach as you did, but your mind remained focused. You weren’t about to back down now, no matter what the others thought.

As you turned and walked back to your side, you kept your head low, trying to hide the turmoil brewing inside. You heard some murmurs around you, a mix of disbelief and anger from your teammates, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. The guilt gnawed at you but so did the hope that this one last game would be enough. You glanced at the piggy bank hanging overhead, feeling the weight of the prize pool, but also the weight of your decision.

The voting ended with 140 votes for “O” and 117 for “X,” meaning the third game would proceed tomorrow. Some players cheered, relieved that they could move forward, while others were disappointed, worried for their survival. You stood frozen as the room around you buzzed with varying reactions. You could feel the stares of your team members who clearly weren’t happy with your decision. You couldn’t meet their eyes, couldn’t bear to see the betrayal there.

Jung-bae’s hand suddenly clapped on your shoulder, pulling you out of your reverie. You looked at him, searching his face for some sign of judgment. Your eyes went down and stared at the "O" patch on his tracksuit. His gaze was full of understanding, a silent comfort that you couldn’t quite put into words. He gave you a quick nod before turning his back, signaling the two of you to move forward, away from the team.

You ignored the whispers, and the betrayed looks from Dae-ho and Zoey. You couldn’t let it matter now. Call it selfish, call it greed, but 78 million won was not enough. Just one more game, and then maybe, just maybe you could end this.

Once the guard handed you your food, you took it mechanically, your hands numb as you walked back to your bed. You couldn’t face anyone—not Zoey, not Jun-hee, and especially not the ones who still believed in you. The weight of their disappointment was more than you could bear. Before you could even sit down, a loud voice called out for you.

"Hey! [Name]ya!" The sudden intrusion startled you. You turned, your heart racing in your chest, and saw Jun-hee and Zoey behind you. The former’s concern was written clearly across her face.

“Why?” she asked softly, her voice trembling.

You avoided her gaze, not trusting yourself to speak. “I... I have my reasons,” you said, your voice cracking just a little, even though you tried to sound convincing.

Zoey, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, muttered under her breath, "I hope it’s worth it." Her words were heavy with something you couldn’t quite define—was it disappointment? Concern? Either way, it cut deeper than you expected. You wanted to say something, anything, to make her understand, but you couldn’t. Not now. Not when everything felt so fragile.

Before you could open your mouth, two sets of hands grabbed each of your arms, forcing you to stand up. With a startled yelp, you asked, "What are you doing?" in a nervous tone. The two remained silent, their grip firm as they dragged you toward where the group was sitting. You quickly noticed that Jung-bae was also being pulled along by Dae-ho, confusion and tension radiating from him. It wasn’t until you reached the group that the weight of everyone’s gaze settled on you. You couldn’t escape the questioning looks from your teammates.

You and Jung-bae exchanged guilty glances before finally looking your teammates in the eye. “I… I’m very sorry, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, Young-il,” you started. Jung-bae hesitated for a moment before following your lead, offering a quick bow. “I’m sorry too, Zoey, Jun-hee, Young-il… Gi-hun, I’m sorry.”

When nobody acknowledged your apologies, Jung-bae went on to explain his reasoning, his voice faltering slightly. “You see, I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I’ll be able to settle my debt. So—”

“Jung-bae.” Young-il cut him off sharply. His tone was cold, his expression unreadable, as if disappointment weighed heavy on his words. “You of all people shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t righteous, not twice, not even once.”

The words stung more than Jung-bae expected, and the silence between them grew thick. Without waiting for Jung-bae to respond, Young-il turned to you, his gaze steady and searching. “And you,” he began, his voice quieter but no less firm, “You’ve made your own choice,” He continued, his voice measured, “but don’t try to justify it as something you had no control over.”

You looked at him one more time before looking down, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest, tightening your throat. Your mind raced, but there was no way to explain it—not to them, not to yourself.

“I know…” you whispered, the guilt rising like a tide, swallowing your words. “And I’m truly sorry…”

The sincerity in your apology felt hollow. You had made the decision. No one had forced you, but the pull of the money, of the chance to end it all, had made it feel like a necessity. And yet, as you stood there, with their disappointed gazes burning into you, it felt more like a betrayal than a choice.

“But looking at the results, even if you two voted against it, we would still have been outvoted,” Young-il said, his voice calm, like he had already made peace with it.

“Right? So it’s not really our fault,” Jung-bae added quickly, trying to make light of the situation.

Dae-ho, who had been quietly observing, scratched his head and gave Jung-bae a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Honestly, I get why you did it. Even for me, ¥78 million isn’t enough. So when I went to vote, I really thought about going for ‘O’ too.”

Zoey and Jun-hee didn’t say much. They nodded, agreeing in silence but not wanting to add anything more. Everyone was feeling the pressure. The reality of it all was sinking in too fast.

Jung-bae, still holding on to hope, added, “Next game, I promise. I’ll—”

“Next game?” Gi-hun’s voice cut through the air, sharp and honest. “Next game, we might have to kill each other.”

The room went still at his words. Everyone seemed to freeze. Gi-hun was right, and his words hit harder than anyone expected. No one spoke right away; the thought of what might happen in the next game was too much to face. The quiet grew heavy as the reality of what they were really up against settled in.

You opened your mouth to say something but stopped when Young-il spoke up. “Gi-hun, that’s a bit much. We all know there’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just stay focused. We need to eat, get ourselves together, and prepare for the next round.”

With that, he handed his milk carton to Jun-hee, saying he didn’t drink plain milk. Jung-bae did the same, offering his bread to Zoey, saying he didn’t deserve to eat. Everyone’s gestures, though small, felt like they were all trying to comfort each other in their own way, but it only made the situation more real.

Dae-ho, trying to lighten the mood, asked for Jung-bae's milk carton, but when the male shot him a glare, he stayed quiet, not wanting to argue.

A soft laugh slipped out of you, and without thinking, you handed your milk to Dae-ho. He immediately accepted it with a soft, grateful smile and mumbled a quiet thanks. 

You found yourself sitting next to Young-il, feeling more tired than you’d ever felt before, the mental and physical exhaustion had settled into your bones, dragging you down. The male was silent beside you, his presence heavy yet comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his gaze on you. It wasn’t intrusive, just there—steady, unyielding, like a silent support.

After a long silence, he spoke, his voice low and steady. “You did what you had to do.”

You blinked at him, not sure whether to be relieved or uncomfortable. “Did I?” you asked softly. “I voted to keep going. I went against you all. I wanted to believe it would be worth it, but I’m not sure anymore.”

“You can’t change it now,” he said, his tone gentle, almost comforting. “We all made our choices. It’s over. What matters now is what we do next.”

For a moment, you felt a knot in your chest loosen. He turned to you, his gaze unwavering, “You made a choice,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And no one else can tell you whether it was right or wrong.”

The simplicity of his words hung in the air. You couldn’t fix what had been done, but hearing those words from him somehow made it feel a little less like you were alone in your decision. The guilt that had gnawed at you seemed to quiet, even if just for a brief moment.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. There was a quiet sincerity in it, more than you realized. It was the kind of reassurance you hadn’t known you were craving.

He nodded once, acknowledging your thanks with a slight tilt of his head. “Don’t mind what Gi-hun and I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice steady but softer now. “In a place like this, it’s hard not to be on edge. Everyone’s just trying to survive.”

You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. “Yeah… I get it. It’s just hard to not feel like the bad guy sometimes.”

“You’re not,” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours for a moment before shifting away. “We all made our choices. Doesn’t make anyone better or worse. Just… human.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and before you knew it, the two of you had slipped into an easy conversation. It wasn’t much, shared observations about the others, light teasing about Dae-ho being comparable to a golden retriever, favorite movies and hobbies, but it felt like a break from the weight pressing down on you both.

At one point, you let out a genuine laugh, surprising even yourself. Young-il turned his head, his gaze curious as he asked, “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, a small smile still lingering on your lips. “I don’t know,” you admitted, brushing a hand over your face as if to hide the slight flush there. “Maybe it’s just everything… or nothing. Maybe I just needed to.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening slightly, though he still didn’t smile. “Laughing over nothing, huh? Guess there’s worse ways to handle this mess.”

“You should try it,” you said lightly, teasing just enough to test the waters.

He huffed, not quite a laugh but close, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe one day.”

For a little while, it was just the two of you, sharing quiet moments and fleeting bits of lightness in the shadow of everything else. The sound of quiet conversations and muted movements surrounded you, but it all felt distant, like you and Young-il existed in a world apart from everyone else. Eventually, the men began excusing themselves to head toward the bathroom. Young-il stayed seated a moment longer, his reluctance obvious in the way he lingered.

“You’re stalling,” you teased softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

He huffed, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I am.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Go. They’re waiting for you, and if you stay any longer Dae-ho might wet the floor.”

He chuckled. For a moment, he didn’t move, his gaze meeting yours. “Fine,” he said, shaking his head as he stood slowly, there was a flicker of something—playful or thoughtful, you couldn’t quite tell. As he walked away, you watched him join the others, the soft smile still lingering on your face.

Once the coast was clear, Zoey slid over almost immediately, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Jun-hee joined her just as quickly, both of them zeroing in on you like a pair of mischievous siblings ready to pounce. “You’re smiling,” Zoey said, a teasing tone lacing her words.

Jun-hee, tilted her head, her expression somewhere between amused and curious. “We’ve been with you since the first game and that’s not like you. Care to explain?”

You blinked, immediately feeling awkward. “Really? Now? In a place like this?”

Zoey leaned closer, her expression turning more playful. “C’mon, we’re not gonna bite. Just curious.”

With a chuckle, you let out a dramatic sigh before rubbing your temples. “This isn’t the time for that. We’re stuck in a death game, not a dating show.”

“So, what you’re saying is if we are in a dating show you would totally go for him?”

You raised an eyebrow at Zoey, a smirk tugging at your lips. "I never said that," you replied, shaking your head in disbelief.

Jun-hee joined in, her voice teasing but not unkind. “Come on, don’t play coy with us. You have to admit, something’s up.”

You let out a sigh, but this time it was more amused than anything. “You two are unbelievable.” You leaned back, trying to shift the mood. “Look, it’s not like that. We’re just… having a conversation. It's not that deep.”

But they didn’t back off. Zoey gave you a knowing look, her eyes twinkling. “Having a conversation my ass! You’re out here giggling like a highschooler!”

“I do not!”

“Do too!”

You crossed your arms, trying to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “I’m not giggling, I’m just—” you paused, trying to find the right words, “I’m just… enjoying the conversation, alright?”

Jun-hee leaned in, her eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “Uh-huh. Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help yourself from laughing again. “Just so you know, we’re stuck in a life-and-death situation, and I’m way past the age of having crushes and all that nonsense.”

Zoey leaned back with a satisfied grin, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Sure, whatever you say! We’ll let you off the hook for now, but don’t think we’ve forgotten.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. Despite the playful banter, the weight in your chest lightened. The tension between you all had shifted, and for the first time in a while, things didn’t feel so heavy. The teasing was light, comforting, and in the middle of everything that was going on, it was exactly what you needed.

You gave her a half-smile. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, are you?”

Jun-hee joined in with a gentle laugh. “Probably not. But it’s good to see you smile for once, even if we’re making fun of you.”

“You two are such troublemakers, you know that?”

Zoey shrugged innocently. “What can we say unnie? We just like seeing you flustered!”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed on your face. “Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Lights out in ten minutes. Please prepare for bedtime.”

Currently, you and the group were passing out mattresses, following Gi-hun’s insistence that all of you sleep on the floor together, huddled under one of the bed frames with someone keeping watch. While the rest of you questioned whether such precautions were necessary, none dared to speak up, not wanting to provoke Gi-hun’s temper.

As you handed a mattress to Dae-ho, who passed it to Jung-bae, the latter decided to voice what everyone else was thinking. “Hey, is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there.”

Gi-hun didn’t look up as he smoothed a blanket onto the floor. “Once the lights go out, someone might attack us.”

That caught everyone’s attention. Kneeling down to sort through pillows and blankets, You, Dae-ho, Jun-hee and Zoey paused, curiosity piqued. “Why would anyone do that?” Dae-ho asked cautiously.

Gi-hun let out a humorless chuckle. “The prize money goes up every time someone dies. It’s part of the game they designed.”

You frowned, giving his words some thought. At first, his claim seemed far-fetched, but the more you considered the desperation you’d seen in yourself and in others—the way some eyes lingered too long on the prize board—it started to make an unsettling kind of sense.

“That’s insane,” Jung-bae muttered, shaking his head. “Nobody’s that cold. Nobody’s gonna—”

“Nope, Gi-hun is right. You shouldn’t be so sure,” you cut in, your tone sharper than usual. All eyes turned to you. “We’re lucky to have each other, but outside of this group? Desperation changes people. If someone thinks they have a better chance alone, or if they’re blinded by that kind of money, they won’t hesitate.”

Young-il narrowed his eyes at you, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “You’re saying we should expect someone to try and kill us tonight?”

You shrugged, your expression grim. “I’m saying we’d be stupid not to prepare for it.”

The weight of your words settled over the group like a heavy blanket. Even Zoey and Jun-hee, who usually tried to keep things light, exchanged uneasy glances. Gi-hun nodded as if your words confirmed everything he’d been thinking.

“Well,” Dae-ho said after a moment, his voice forced and upbeat, “at least we have each other, right?”

“Exactly,” Gi-hun said, setting down the last mattress. “We stick together, we’ll make it through. Now, everyone settle in. And keep your eyes open.”

Reluctantly, the group followed his lead, arranging themselves in a tight circle under the frame. You caught Young-il’s eye as he sat down across from you, his expression unreadable but his gaze steady.

Morning arrived faster than you expected, and soon, the guards were leading you to the next game.

The circular room you entered was unsettling. Bright, white walls surrounded a massive platform in the center, and atop it stood three eerie carousel horses, their painted eyes glossy and cold. Around the perimeter of the room were several doors, painted with plain colors.

You stared in quiet dread, trying to piece together what this setup might mean. The atmosphere was heavy, the air almost suffocating.

A light shove jolted you back to reality.

“You okay?”

Young-il stood beside you, his hand brushing your arm. His face, though calm, held a trace of worry as he took in your frozen stance.

“Stay close to me,” he said firmly. “And don’t freeze up now. I know it’s hard, but mistakes…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Just don’t make any. Not here.”

You nodded, swallowing hard, and forced your legs to move as the guards directed everyone to the platform.

The rules were announced in the same monotone voice you’d grown to fear. This game wasn’t just a test of strength or skill—it was a race against time. Mingle. A game where players had to form groups according to the number that appeared and enter a room within 30 seconds. Failure to do so meant death.

The tension in the room became unbearable as the platform filled with nervous shuffling.

Zoey, standing beside you, clutched at your jacket with trembling hands. Her grip was tight and desperate, her pale face mirrored the fear you felt but tried to bury.

You placed a steadying hand over hers. “Stay close to us okay?” you murmured, glancing at her wide, frightened eyes. “We’ll figure this out.”

The platform began to spin, the movement disorienting as the room blurred around you. An eerie, childlike song played from unseen speakers, the melody jarring in its mockery of innocence.

Just as nausea began to creep in, the platform screeched to a halt.

12

Panic erupted immediately. Players screamed and shoved, desperate to find others to form a group.

“We need two more!”

“Who has five?”

Gi-hun moved quickly, scanning the chaos. He approached a nearby cluster of players, tapping one on the shoulder. “How many are you?”

“Four,” Player 120 replied.

“That makes us eleven,” Jung-bae said, pulling the rest of you closer into a huddle.

Before you could fully regroup, others swarmed around, shouting over one another in frantic bids for survival.

“Join us! We’re five!”

“No, come with us! We’re seven!”

The crowd was chaos. People were being pulled apart and dragged into groups as the countdown loomed. Zoey clung tighter to you, her breathing uneven. Suddenly, Player 120 ran off and dragged a woman toward your group. Her face was pale, and her steps stumbled as if she could barely keep up with the force pulling her forward.

“Here! This makes twelve!” Player 120 shouted, shoving the woman into your group before anyone could react.

“Come on,” you urged, grabbing Jun-hee and Zoey by the arms. “Let’s go. Stick close to me.”

Gi-hun directed your group to room 44. One by one, you made sure everyone got through the door, your eyes scanning for anyone falling behind. Once inside, Young-il slammed the door shut.

The locks clicked as the timer hit zero.

A chilling silence followed before the sound of gunfire tore through the room. Cries of desperation from players left behind filled the air, only to be abruptly silenced.

Zoey trembled violently, her hands covering her ears. You knelt beside her, brushing her hair back in an attempt to soothe her. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” you said, though your own hands weren’t quite steady.

The tense quiet was broken by a sudden, sharp voice.

“You are all alive thanks to me!”

The outburst came from the woman 120 dragged, her wild eyes scanning the group. She began to approach Jun-hee with a strange intensity, her smile twisted and unsettling.

You immediately stepped in front of the girl, blocking her from view. Your movements were calm, but your heart pounded as the woman’s gaze landed on you instead.

She tilted her head, her smile widening. “There’s a reason you’ve lived this long,” she said, her tone cryptic. “A reason you were brought here.”

Her words hung heavy in the air as she looked past you, her focus shifting to Gi-hun.

Before she could say more, the announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers, listing the eliminated players. The doors unlocked. Everyone returned to the platform.

Another round began.

4

All seven of you froze, exchanging frantic glances. The tension in the room was suffocating, everyone hyper-aware of the seconds slipping away.

"I'll find one more," you said abruptly, already moving before anyone could protest.

Gi-hun called after you, his voice strained with alarm, but you were already lost in the chaos.

"Wait—!" Zoey started to follow, but Gi-hun grabbed her arm.

"No!" she yelled, pulling against him. "You go! I’ll wait for [Name]-nim!"

"But—"

Young-il stepped in, placing a firm hand on Gi-hun’s shoulder. "Go, Gi-hun. She won’t move unless [Name] is back. I’ll stay with her."

Gi-hun hesitated, his jaw clenched. He looked between them and the dwindling time before nodding sharply. "Take care of them."

Without another word, he ushered Dae-ho, Jun-hee, and Jung-bae into a room. Once inside, Gi-hun hesitated to shut the room, opting to keep it open for a bit as he watched over your group.

Meanwhile, Young-il stayed by Zoey's side, his sharp gaze darting through the chaos, searching for any sign of you. The noise of panicked shouts and pounding footsteps filled the air, but he barely noticed. Instead, his attention was fixed on the spinning platform and the frenzied crowd.

Zoey clung to his arm, her small frame trembling against his. Her breaths came in short, uneven gasps, her grip tightening with each second that passed. Young-il glanced down at her, his usually stern expression softening for a moment.

"You’ll be okay," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the storm around them. He rested a hand lightly on her shoulder, giving her a firm yet gentle pat.

Zoey didn’t seem to hear him. Her lips moved in a near-silent mantra, repeating over and over, "Please come back. Please come back."

Her words hung heavy in the air, a fragile plea against the backdrop of chaos. Young-il’s jaw tightened as he turned his focus back to the crowd. He had to believe you would return, not just for Zoey's sake—but for all of theirs.

Inside the room, Dae-ho’s voice broke the silence. "Will they make it?" he asked, his tone trembling. Gi-hun didn’t respond, his gaze fixed outside, searching for any sign of you. With ten seconds left, hope began to waver—until a familiar voice cut through the noise.

"Hey! I found someone! Let’s go!"

Bursting into sight, you ran towards an empty room with Player 256 in tow. Without hesitation, you grabbed Young-il’s outstretched hand, pulling everyone toward the door. The locks clicked shut just as the timer hit zero.

Inside, your legs gave out, but before you hit the ground, you felt a strong pair of arms catch you. Young-il steadied you, his worried face inches from yours.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.

You nodded quickly, pulling yourself upright. "Thanks," you said, flashing a weak smile before turning to Player 256, who looked pale and shaken.

"Are you alright? Sorry for dragging you like that. I just saw you on the floor and didn’t think twice."

The young man gave you a pained smile, his breaths still uneven. "I’m fine. Thank you—really. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead."

You patted his shoulder gently, suppressing a sigh. "What’s with young people getting into so much debt these days?"

Before you could say more, a small figure collided with you, wrapping their arms tightly around your waist.

"Don’t ever leave me again, unnie." Zoey sobbed, her voice muffled against your shirt. Warm tears soaked through the fabric as she clung to you.

Your heart twisted at her desperation. "I can’t promise you that, Zoey. But Jun-hee’s always there when I’m not okay?" you murmured, gently running your hand through her hair, trying to soothe her.

Her grip on you loosened a little, but her wide eyes stayed locked on you. “I know… but I still need you two with me,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of that same hope she always had.

You gave her a soft smile, brushing away a tear that had fallen down her cheek. “We’re not going anywhere,” you said, holding her just a little tighter.

The announcer’s voice suddenly boomed through the speakers, listing the names of the eliminated players. The stark reminder of the game’s stakes sent a chill through the room.

As the list ended, you glanced toward Young-il. His eyes betrayed the fear he had been holding back, relief washing over his face as he met your gaze. For a brief moment, it felt like the world had paused, the chaos outside fading into the background.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He gave a small nod, his lips pressed into a thin line.

The sound of the doors unlocking snapped you both back to reality. Player 256 bowed deeply to you before sprinting off, murmuring another hurried "thank you" as he disappeared into the crowd.

Taking Zoey’s hand, you and Young-il moved quickly to find the rest of your group. Voices called your names, and you followed the sound until you spotted them.

"There they are!" Jung-bae shouted, relief evident in his tone.

Young-il barely had time to react before Jung-bae threw his arms around him in a tight hug. Meanwhile, Jun-hee rushed toward you and Zoey.

The three of you broke into a tangle of hugs, clutching each other tightly, the fear and relief of survival intertwining in an unspoken bond.

“I knew you were gonna be okay!” Jung-bae exclaimed in relief, pulling Young-il into a tight hug. Jun-hee did the same with you, and you returned the hug, pressing a few affectionate forehead kisses on her before patting her head gently. Gi-hun looked at you and Young-il, his face breaking into a relieved smile. “I was so worried. I’m glad you all made it.”

“Luckily, [Name] found someone in time. If she stayed with us a little longer, she might’ve had a hard time,” Young-il chuckled, praising you.

You laughed, shaking your head. “If anything, I was lucky. I found the guy on the ground. I hope he’s okay.”

The two of you then turned to Jun-hee, asking if she was alright. She reassured you, telling you how glad she was that the three of you came back safely.

“Wait a minute.” Young-il’s voice cut through the conversation. Suddenly, all eyes were on him. “If the next number is eighth, then we won’t need anyone else, right?”

Everyone looked at him with confused expressions. “Why?” Dae-ho asked, genuinely curious. Young-il didn’t respond immediately; instead, he just nodded, thinking.

Jung-bae snapped his fingers, pointing at Jun-hee’s stomach. “Ah, it’s in her tummy.”

A sudden realization spread across Dae-ho’s face as he finally understood. “Ohh, that’s right. That makes eight.” The group shared a lighthearted laugh, while Zoey rolled her eyes, quietly laughing to herself. She muttered something about how corny the joke was. You couldn’t help but laugh, pinching her cheek and telling her to just go with the flow.

“What if it’s twins? Triplets?” you joked.

Amid the laughter, a pair of lingering eyes belonging to Player 333 was watching the group with an unreadable look on his face.

The atmosphere shifted slightly before you were all instructed to return to the platform. The tension in the air was palpable. Another round started.

3

“You three, go–” Gi-hun began, but Young-il cut him off.

“No. I’ll go. You stay with them.”

You all looked at him in surprise, not wanting to leave him behind. However, there was no time to waste. With a determined nod, you immediately grabbed Jun-hee and Zoey before running toward the nearest room. Gi-hun, Jung-bae, and Dae-ho followed closely behind, while Young-il ran off to find two other players.

You three finally approached the only vacant room near you. As you opened it, your blood ran cold. A figure was curled up in a ball in the corner of the room, its stillness unnerving— as if they had already given up already. You glanced at the timer—20 seconds. Your heart raced. Grabbing Jun-hee and Zoey’s arms, you yelled for the curled up figure.

"Hey!" you shouted. The person stirred and looked up at you, confusion in their eyes. You raised the arms you were holding, signaling clearly. The person understood, standing up and moving toward the door. You pushed Jun-hee and Zoey toward the player, making sure they would be safe with her. Once inside, Player 380 quickly closed the door. As you ran away, you heard their voices calling out to you.

“Hey unnie! Come back!”

“[Name]nim!”

You cursed your heart for being soft and getting attached, you cursed your mind for wanting to be a hero. With 13 seconds left, you turned and ran as fast as you could, hoping to find a room, or maybe even Young-il.

10 seconds.

You frantically scanned the area, but there was almost nothing. No sign of Young-il. No sign of anyone else making their way to a room. No group of two finding their last member.

8 seconds.

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed your arm. You were shocked but didn’t hesitate. You had no time for hesitation now. You kept your pace, determined to survive.

6 seconds.

You spotted someone standing idly, diagonally to you. Wasting no time, you shouted to them. Together, you ran toward the person, desperate to find the last empty room.

4 seconds.

The two of you reached her and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her toward the nearest open door.

2 seconds.

The three of you rushed inside.

1 second.

The doors slammed shut behind you.

The timer rang. 0 seconds.

Back in room 27, Zoey and Jun-hee peeked anxiously through the window, watching the chaos unfold outside. As the announcer listed the eliminated players, they held their breath, waiting. The second your number wasn’t called, they exhaled in relief.

Inside your room, you collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. This was the consequence of playing the hero. You were too old for this, yet here you were again, caught in the madness. Once your breath steadied, you looked at the player you had dragged in. You froze in shock. It was Player 149—the mother of Player 007. The two were peas in a pod, but you hoped nothing bad would happen now that they were separated.

Deciding not to disturb her, you let her have some space and turned to the person who had saved you. Standing up, you immediately bowed in their direction. When they didn’t make a sound or movement, you slowly lifted your head.

To your shock, you were met with Young-il’s face.

Your shocked face clashed with his angry one, but before you could process it, you leapt at him and wrapped him in a tight, warm hug. His initial surprise faded as he returned the embrace, his anger melting away. As he gently patted your hair, he quietly asked, “What happened?”

“The room we entered was already filled with someone. I wanted to stay with Jun-hee and Zoey, but there were no more rooms nearby. I couldn’t let Jun-hee run anymore, so I left them there and ran,” you explained, your voice muffled against his shirt.

He patted your head again before slightly pushing you away to look at your face. Still holding you, the two of you locked eyes. “You’re lucky I was there to save you like a superhero.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “Thanks, superhero.”

You gave him a sweet smile before pulling away and knelt in front of the older woman. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

She snapped out of her thoughts and bowed, immediately responding, “Yes, yes. I am. Thank you so much for saving me.”

“Where’s your son?”

“Sorry?”

“Weren’t you with him?” Young-il asked, his concern growing for their safety. You watched her closely, hoping nothing bad had happened. Her eyes bounced between you and Young-il as she tried to formulate an answer. “Oh, well, I lost him. He told me to wait while he brought one more person, but in all the chaos, I lost him.”

“He didn’t come back?” Young-il’s question made her stand up abruptly.

“My son isn’t that kind of person!” she said, standing defensively. “We may be poor, but he has a good heart. He’d rather be bullied than hurt another person. He’ll never harm anyone, so watch what you say about him!”

You stood up quickly and gently placed your hands on her shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “Ah, it’s nothing like that, ma’am. It’s just that the two of you have been together from the start, so we were worried when we saw you alone. We didn’t mean to upset you.”

She looked at you for a moment before averting her gaze, calming down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” Young-il added, apologizing as well.

The doors opened then, signaling it was time to move on. With a bow, you grabbed Young-il’s hand, pulling him toward Jun-hee and Zoey’s room. When you saw the two of them, your eyes met, and without hesitation, you let go of Young-il’s hand and hugged them both tightly. You whispered your apologies as they cried into your neck. Young-il watched the scene with a bittersweet smile, the sight of you and the others reminding him painfully of his late wife. It felt like a love he could never return to, yet he couldn't look away.

Once they stopped crying, you gently pulled away and pointed them toward Young-il. Without hesitation, they ran to him, wrapping their arms around him and thanking him.

The four of you then returned to the platform, where you met the rest of your group. A silent understanding passed between your team and player 120’s team, as you all stood next to each other, ready for the next round. The music started. The platform began to rotate. 

6

“Three women and three men, go!” Gi-hun shouted. Luckily, you all had enough members so only finding the room was the problem, Jun-hee and Zoey stuck close to you as you followed Young-il, Gi-hun, and Jung-bae to a room. 

When you returned to the platform, you immediately noticed the lonely figure of player 120, with player 095 nowhere near, you assumed the worst. Standing close next to her, you offer comfort by rubbing her back. “It’s gonna be hard but please stay strong, she now lives through you.” She gives you a pained nod as you placed yourself between Zoey and Young-il. 

“What do you think will be the next number?” Jung-bae asked you all.

It was quiet for a moment as everyone contemplated the answer. Without hesitation, Zoey spoke up. "Two."

Gi-hun looked at her, silently asking her to explain her answer. Instead of her, Young-il’s voice broke through the tension. "Yeah, she's correct. It's two. There are 50 rooms, and 156 people are still alive. Everyone will have a pair, but there won't be enough rooms. That's how they conduct these games."

Everyone else looked at him, some expressions confused, others with a hint of surprise, as if they hadn’t expected him to be the one explaining. And they were right.

2

The group stood in silence for a second, each person wondering who would pair with whom. The fear of the rooms being occupied quickly spread so without a second thought, Young-il grabbed your hand and hurried you away. Zoey called your name, and the others followed suit. Dae-ho grabbed Zoey, Jung-bae grabbed Gi-hun, and Player 333 grabbed Jun-hee as they all ran to secure an empty room.

You and Young-il reached the open door of an empty room, but before you could step inside, another player tackled you to the ground. As Young-il rushed to help you up, the player bolted for the room you had been eyeing. Without hesitation, Young-il grabbed the man, yanking him away and throwing him outside with unexpected force.

"Go in!" Young-il shouted at you, as he held the player in his grip.

Your heart was racing, adrenaline flooding your system. You scrambled to recover and quickly glanced around, making sure the coast was clear. With urgency, you rushed inside, positioning yourself near the door, ready to barricade it in case someone tried to steal the room from you. You signaled for Young-il to come in, and as he rushed in after you, you slammed the door behind him, using your body to hold it shut while the player left outside shouted curses at you.

Suddenly, Young-il pulled you into his arms, his hands gentle but firm, as he placed your head against his shoulder. You melted into him, the brief respite giving you both a moment of peace. But that moment quickly shattered when your eyes caught a figure in the corner of the room.

Your breath hitched. In a panic, you pushed away from Young-il and shouted at the figure, your voice trembling, "Leave! Get out!"

The timer was ticking down, and every second felt like an eternity. Panic surged within you as you watched the figure not move—your heart raced. The seconds were slipping away.

12 seconds.

"No way, we got here first," the man argued, his voice laced with defiance.

“Well your partner is not here isn’t he?! Get out!”  you demanded, your voice firm despite the tension.

11 seconds.

“Shut your tramp whore! We got here first! Make yourself useful and get out of the room!” he spat back, growing angrier.

10 seconds.

Without a word, Young-il lunged at the man, grabbing him by the throat and forcing him toward the door, his strength overpowering the man’s resistance. You watched in horror, your eyes flickering between the timer and the brutal scene unfolding before you. With only three seconds left and the man still struggling. Young-il didn’t hesitate. His actions were swift and decisive, final and cold. With one swift move, the room fell silent, and the door locked.

0 seconds.

Young-il stood over the lifeless man, his face distant, his expression hollow. It was a look that didn’t belong on him. In the short time you’d known him, he’d always had this warm, protective energy, this quiet tenderness that made you feel safe. But now, his usual caring nature seemed clouded by something else.

Without thinking, you crossed the room to him, gently taking his hands in yours. You could feel his tension, his unwillingness to meet your gaze. Your heart ached to see him like this, and you whispered softly, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice barely above a whisper, as though he was apologizing for something you hadn’t even asked him to do.

“What for?” you asked, trying to meet his gaze. He avoided it, looking down at the body in the room, his face shadowed with regret.

“You did what you had to do, Young-il. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here. We’d be dead. So, thank you.” You squeezed his hands, trying to convey the depth of your gratitude, even if the words felt too small.

“But—” he started, voice faltering.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” You could feel his fear—fear that you might look at him differently now. You could see it in his eyes, that vulnerability he tried to hide. You slowly reached up, your hand finding his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting. His eyes closed as he leaned into it, the tension melting from his body for just a moment. "Murder is something I’m used to, Young-il. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine… as long as you’re here."

The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken words. The closeness, the way your fingers lingered on his skin, the way your breaths synced together—it felt like everything was leading to this moment. Slowly, instinctively, you both leaned in, drawn to each other like magnets.

But just as your lips were about to meet, the loud sound of the doors unlocking shattered the moment. You both froze, hearts pounding in your chests, reality crashing back in. You pulled away quickly, your face flushing with embarrassment.

You stepped back, flustered, and gave a quick bow, mumbling, “I—I should check on Zoey and Jun-hee.” You turned to leave, nearly tripping over your shoes in the rush. That shared moment lingered in the air, and even as you fled, your heart still raced with what almost happened, you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on your back, the connection between you stronger than ever.

After the third game, you found yourself back in the fort Gi-hun had organized. The group was scattered, tending to their own thoughts or conversations. Across the room, Jun-hee was deep in conversation with Player 333, the man you now knew was her ex-fiancé—the one who’d abandoned her. Zoey stood by your side, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern as the two exchanged words that seemed both loaded and cautious.

Meanwhile, Gi-hun instructed the others to count the remaining players and determine how many wanted to continue playing.

“There are 55 players who voted in favor of continuing,” Jung-bae reported as he returned.

“Are you sure?” Gi-hun asked, his voice tense.

“I counted twice.”

Dae-ho pointed to the “O” patch on Jung-bae’s uniform. “Did you count yourself?”

Jung-bae glanced at the “O” patch on his chest, pausing before muttering, “Fifty-six.”

“Fifty-seven,” you added, raising your hand while still keeping an eye on Jun-hee and her conversation.

Dae-ho exhaled heavily, frustration evident. “We have forty-five on our side. We’re outnumbered by twelve.”

The weight of the statement settled over the group like a cloud of despair.

Young-il stood up, breaking the silence. “It may seem like a big gap, but if six of them change their minds, it’s tied. Seven, and we win.”

“But what if some of the X votes switch to O?” Dae-ho countered.

“They likely won’t,” Young-il replied evenly. “Those who voted X wanted out even when the prize was smaller. Now they can leave with even more money. Why risk their lives again?”

You joined in. “Me, and Jung-bae will definitely vote X. That’s two already. If four more switch sides, it’s a tie. Five more, and we win.”

Gi-hun nodded decisively. “Then let’s go try to convince them.” 

“No,” Young-il said firmly. “That’s too risky. Most of them want to continue playing. If we start making moves, they won’t sit back and let us sway their votes.”

Gi-hun’s frustration boiled over. “So we just stand here and pray they change their minds? What if we lose again? Are we supposed to march into another game like sheep?”

Zoey hesitated before speaking, her voice soft but steady. “Gi-hunnim, I don’t think it’s wise to provoke them. They might do the same to us, and they have the upper hand. People are here for money. If we start something, it could lead to a fight before we even vote.”

Her words calmed the rising tension, and the group fell into silence as guards entered the room, signaling the start of the next vote.

After the third game, only 100 players remained. The prize money now totaled 35.6 billion won, meaning each player will earn 356 million won if they would go home now. Jung-bae approached Gi-hun, his face grim yet determined. “With that kind of money,” he began, his voice low but certain, “some might change their minds. If we can convince six more people to vote X, we’ll tie. Seven, and we win.” His words hung in the air, filling the room with a fragile sense of hope.

The guards soon interrupted, announcing that the voting would proceed in reverse order of player numbers. The tension thickened as Gi-hun approached the booth, the echo of his footsteps amplifying the silence. “Player 456, please cast your vote,” one guard intoned, his monotone voice chilling in its detachment.

One by one, players approached the booth, many clinging to their original decisions. The scoreboard slowly reflected the changes. When it was Jung-bae’s turn, he strode forward with purpose, slamming his hand on the X button. As he returned to Gi-hun’s side, he showed off his X patch and declared, “Seven more to win,” his voice carrying the first flicker of confidence the group had heard in hours.

Player 380 voted X. Relief swept through your group—six more to go.

Player 185. X. Five more.

Your turn came, and you didn’t hesitate. X. Four more.

Player 125. X. Three.

Player 120 followed, then Player 015. Each X vote brought you closer to the tie. When Player 007 slammed the X button, he shouted, “Let’s go home!” and tore off his O patch triumphantly.

“That’s seven!” Jung-bae yelled, grinning in excitement. “We did it!”

The celebration was short-lived. The next player, an elderly woman, calmly voted O. The room fell silent as her choice appeared on the scoreboard: 49 for X, 50 for O.

Everyone turned toward the last player, Player 001. The atmosphere shifted, the tension nearly suffocating. The air felt heavy with anticipation as he slowly made his way to the booth. Young-il’s slow steps toward the voting booth felt endless. Every step seemed deliberate, as though he were savoring the weight of the moment.

Zoey, looking at Young-il, quietly gripped Jun-hee’s arm, her face pale. “What’s wrong?” Jun-hee asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.

Zoey hesitated before speaking, her words barely audible. “Young-ilnim... he scares me sometimes.”

Jun-hee frowned. “Why? Did something happen?”

“When we were waiting for [Name]nim during the third game, I thought I saw him making eye contact with the guards,” Zoey murmured. “It was like... like they knew him. I don’t know, maybe I imagined it, but it didn’t feel right.”

Jun-hee’s brows furrowed, her protective instincts kicking in. “We should tell [Name]nim.”

“No!” Zoey shook her head rapidly. “I don’t want to ruin what they have. [Name]nim deserves to be happy. If I’m wrong, I don’t want to mess things up.”

Jun-hee looked at her with a mix of worry and understanding, her hand coming to rest on Zoey’s shoulder. Before either could say more, the sharp sound of Player 001’s vote echoed through the room.

X.

A stunned silence followed before the scoreboard updated, displaying an even 50 for X and 50 for O. Young-il turned to the group, a smile on his face as he raised his hand in an okay sign. Your side erupted into quiet cheers, exchanging looks of disbelief and relief.

“It’s a tie. We did it!” Dae-ho exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders in excitement. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking him back as a rush of emotion coursed through you.

Relief swept through the room, but a palpable tension lingered as everyone waited to hear the outcome of the tie.

"Wait, since it’s a tie, what does it mean?" Player 100 asked.

The guard responded flatly, "Clause Three: If the voting ends in a tie, players will vote again. To give you time to think, the vote will be conducted tomorrow." He glanced around the room, his gaze cold and impassive. "Until then, please consider your future carefully."

As dinner commenced, your team welcomed new members—Players 120, 149, 007, and 246. The mood was a bit lighter, though tinged with underlying anxiety. Small talk carried the group through the meal, with some making half-hearted jokes to distract from the harsh reality of their situation.

“I’m surprised by the food today,” Zoey remarked, biting eagerly into her roll of gimbap. “I thought it would be bread and milk until the end.” You gently nudged her to slow down, worried she might choke.

Jun-hee, chewing thoughtfully, leaned closer to Zoey. “I was so scared earlier, especially with Young-ilnim. I thought for sure he’d vote O like the first time.” She hesitated, then whispered, “Hey, we really should tell her—”

“Tell me what?” you interjected, raising a brow.

“N-nothing!” Zoey stammered, her cheeks coloring as she avoided your gaze.

“Hmm, I’m watching you two,” you teased, making a gesture before turning your attention to Dae-ho, who was animatedly chatting with Jung-bae.

“I really thought you were going to vote O, like on day one,” Dae-ho admitted, glancing at Young-il. Jung-bae, clearly done with the male's rambling, stuffed a piece of gimbap into his mouth before addressing Young-il directly. “Thank you, Young-il. You gave us another chance.”

Young-il shook his head slightly, his expression neutral. “I just want to stay alive. The money’s enough now, so I need to get out of here. Alive.” His eyes flickered briefly to Gi-hun as he emphasized the last word, the intensity of his gaze sending a chill through the group.

The moment was interrupted by Player 246, who spoke up, his voice laced with apprehension. “Do you think we’ll be able to win the second vote?”

Reality hit like a blow, extinguishing the fragile flicker of hope that had momentarily lit the group. A somber silence followed until Young-il broke it. “We’ll have to go for broke,” he said, his tone measured but firm. “Like Gi-hun said earlier, we should try to convince some of them to change their minds before the second vote.”

“Will they, though?” Player 007 asked, his skepticism clear. “Most of them are blinded by the money now.”

“My son,” his mother chimed in with an oddly cheerful tone, “When you’re hungry, you start to miss home. All we have is this good roll of gimbap, and everyone will feel the pangs of hunger tomorrow.” Her logic was far-fetched, but no one dared contradict her.

007 stood and tried to address the opposing team, using the oll of gimbap as leverage. However, instead of having the result he expected to get, he got the total opposite. The men shouted over each other, their voices rising to a chaotic crescendo. Gi-hun, visibly conflicted, stared at his gimbap before unrolling it. Inside was a fork, its sharp prongs gleaming ominously. A weapon.

Unbeknownst to most, a fight had broken out in the bathroom. The announcement of eliminated players startled everyone into silence. Gasps and murmurs filled the room as the piggy bank suddenly rang. With 95 players remaining, the prize money now stood at 36.1 billion won, increasing each player’s worth to 380 million won.

“What’s happening?” Jung-bae whispered, his voice trembling with unease. His question hung unanswered as the bathroom doors opened. Players emerged, bloodied and bruised, their faces marked by fear and rage.

Player 124 from Team O stumbled into the middle of the room, his voice shaking with anger. “Listen, Team O!” he shouted. “When we were in the bathroom, these X bastards tried to kill us! They killed some of us, including my friend—”

“Bullshit!” Player 047 from Team X shouted back, cutting him off. “You’re the ones who started it!” He gestured toward where Team X sat, his voice rising with fury. “They threatened one of our people! They attacked us to win the second vote!”

The room erupted in chaos. People were shouting, pointing fingers, and some even started pushing and shoving. The tension in the air was thick, and it felt like everyone was on edge, afraid of what might happen next. You could feel the anxiety creeping in as everyone seemed to turn on each other.

In the midst of the chaos, Player 100 quickly rounded up the O team, ordering a headcount. Player 047 did the same with the X team, trying to keep control. The numbers were close, with 47 players on the O team and 48 on the X team. The X team now had the advantage in the voting.

“Two people died on our side,” Player 047 said, sitting down. “That means we lost three, and now they have the upper hand.” A player on their team pointed out, “We still have a better chance. We’re one vote ahead now.”

Jung-bae, trying to stay positive, spoke up. “As long as we don’t change our minds, we’ll win by one vote tomorrow.” The room quieted down as everyone whispered amongst themselves, the weight of the upcoming vote heavy on their minds.

Suddenly, the announcement broke the silence. “Attention, please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime.”

Player 047 stood up, trying to rally his team. “Listen, no one can change their mind, okay? We’ll win tomorrow. Stay strong, we’ll make it through.” His words were filled with determination, and the room filled with a low hum of agreement from his team.

Once everyone started to settle down, Dae-ho leaned in, speaking in a low voice to your group. “Those guys are acting really suspicious. They’re planning something, I can feel it.”

Jung-bae, not paying much attention to the others, just waved him off. “Whatever. Once we win tomorrow’s vote, it’ll all be over.” He sounded confident, but you could tell he was just trying to keep the morale up.

You turned your gaze to Gi-hun, his face unreadable. You knew he was thinking about the situation carefully. After everything that had happened, you weren’t sure what he was planning. But something about the way the O team had been looking at you all, with a certain malice in their eyes, told you that there was more to this than just a vote.

Finally, Gi-hun spoke, his voice calm but filled with tension. “Once the lights go out, they’ll attack us.” The group went silent at his words, the weight of his statement sinking in. 007’s eyes widened in disbelief as he asked, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” You replied this time, everyone looked at you waiting for your explanation. “These people, they didn’t vote O because they wanted to play. They voted O to get more money. And now that they know killing increases the prize, they’ll do whatever it takes to do it.” 

Young-il, who had been quiet up until now, spoke up. “Then we should attack first. We need to take them by surprise.” His suggestion was met with agreement from Player 047, who nodded, adding, “We have the women and elderly on our side. If they attack first, we’ll be at a huge disadvantage.”

But Gi-hun wasn’t on board with the idea. “No. We can’t start a fight like that.” Everyone looked at him, confused. “We need to stay calm. If we kill each other, that’s exactly what they want.”

Jung-bae frowned, clearly not understanding. “Who are they? Who are you talking about?”

“The makers of the game,” Gi-hun said bitterly, his eyes burning with anger. “They’re the ones who want us to kill each other. They’re watching us right now.”

The room fell silent as the others absorbed this revelation. You felt a chill run down your spine. “Where are they?” Dae-ho asked, his voice tight. You could hear the fear in his words, even if he was trying to hide it.

Gi-hun didn’t flinch. He simply looked up at the ceiling, his gaze steady. “Up there,” He murmured, his voice barely audible but filled with conviction. Slowly, everyone looked up at the ceiling, following his gaze. Gi-hun’s eyes were fixed on the higher levels. “The control rooms are above us. Their leader wears a black mask. If we capture him, we’ll have leverage.”

Young-il’s skepticism was evident. “How are you going to fight them? They’ve got guns.”

“We’ll take their guns,” Gi-hun answered plainly, locking eyes with Young-il. His words weren’t a suggestion—they were a plan.

“From the masked men?” Player 246 asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

Gi-hun nodded resolutely. “Yes. We’ll catch them off guard. They won’t expect it.”

“That’s too dangerous,” Young-il said, shaking his head. “Even if we manage to steal their guns, we’ll be outnumbered.”

Gi-hun’s eyes hardened. “What’s your plan, then? Sit around and wait to die? Watch as they pick us off, one by one? Is that your idea of survival?” His voice was harsh, the desperation in his words cutting through the tension.

The silence that followed was thick, as everyone contemplated the harsh reality they faced.

120 spoke up, her voice uncertain but full of fear. “Do we even stand a chance?”

“We do,” Gi-hun said, his voice unwavering. “If we strike first, we catch them off guard. They’ll never see it coming. The people running this game think we’re powerless, but we have the upper hand now. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all.”

“How do you plan to take their guns?” Young-il asked again, his skepticism still evident.

Gi-hun didn’t hesitate, as if he had already thought it through.  “Once the lights go out, we’ll have our chance.”

Lights out in 5 minutes.

As everyone made their way to their beds, Jun-hee excused herself, telling you she needed to talk to someone. You offered to go with her, but she waved you off, saying she’d be quick.

You turned to Zoey, who had a distant, absent look in her eyes. She wasn’t fully there, trapped in her own thoughts. You rubbed her back gently to snap her out of it. Poor Zoey. She was so young, and she didn’t deserve any of this. She shouldn’t have been thrown into this nightmare.

She deserved a future, a chance to grow and live, not this. It pained you to see her face filled with confusion and fear. There was so much darkness surrounding her, and she was so small, so vulnerable. It made your heart heavy.

“Stick close to me, okay?” you whispered, your voice soft but firm as you brushed her hair behind her ear. “If you can’t find me, go to Jun-hee, okay?”

Zoey nodded, but her expression didn’t fully match her words. You could see the uncertainty in her eyes. You gave her a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead, trying to offer what little comfort you could. Rocking her gently, you tucked her in, smoothing the blanket around her, and gave her one last kiss before heading to your own bed.

Lights out in 10.

The countdown echoed. You lay down, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts racing. The seconds felt like hours.

9. What if this is the night? The thought couldn’t help but cross your mind, but you pushed it aside. You couldn’t afford to think that way now. You had to stay focused.

8.

7. The sound of your heartbeat in your ears was almost deafening, the pressure of the countdown like a vice around your chest.

6.

5. Keep it together. You told yourself. Focus. You had to be ready.

4. You thought about Zoey, about Jun-hee. What would happen to them if you didn’t make it? The thought alone made your chest tighten.

3. You forcefully removed them from your thoughts. This was not the time to think about them, they'll be fine, they'll be safe. They'll get out of here alive.

2. The darkness was getting closer. The room was quiet, but you could feel the tension, the electricity in the air. Everyone was waiting, bracing themselves.

1.

The lights flickered and then went off, plunging the room into darkness. Your mind immediately went to Gi-hun’s words: Once the lights go out, get under the bottom beds quickly. You must not get caught by those planning to attack us.

It was quiet.

Then it was loud.

The sounds of screams and footsteps filling the air as people were attacked and killed left and right. You could hear the unmistakable sounds of struggles, the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground. Panic rippled through the room. You prayed silently, hoping that Young-il, Zoey, Jun-hee, and everyone else would make it through the night. You clung to the hope that you would survive, that you wouldn’t be one of the unlucky ones who wouldn’t make it to the morning.

After minutes of waiting, the sound of doors opening signaled the end of the wait. You immediately crawled out from under the bottom bed following phase 2 of Gi-hun's plan.

Playing dead, you stayed as still as possible, listening for the guard’s footsteps. When you heard one approach, you tensed. As the guard scanned your ID, you reached out and grabbed them, pulling them into a headlock. They struggled, fighting to break free, but you tightened your grip, whispering a soft apology. With one swift movement, you snapped their neck. The familiar crack echoed in your ears. Without hesitation, you grabbed their gun, firing at nearby guards, taking them down one by one.

Quickly, you crawled under another bed, planning your next move. The guards on the upper beds were your next target. You fired a shot at an unsuspecting guard, laughing quietly as they looked around, confused. Before they could react, you shot again, taking them out.

From bed to bed, you moved stealthily, inching closer to the stage. Hidden in the shadows, you waited, watching the guards’ every move. You knew patience was key—waiting until they were close enough. When the retreat announcement echoed through the room, you sprang into action. Leaping from your hiding spot, you unleashed a spray of bullets, taking down the remaining guards one by one. Even as they tried to retreat into the gate, you kept firing, not giving them a chance to escape.

But just as the last guard made it to the gate, you pulled the trigger, only to hear a click. You were out of bullets. Panic surged through you. You needed to reload, but before you could, you heard Gi-hun shout, "Hold fire!" You stopped, nodding as you obeyed his command.

Jung-bae and Player 246 rushed forward and forced the last guard to his knees, making him raise his hands in surrender. Slinging your empty gun over your shoulder, you quickly ran to the back, where Zoey and Jun-hee were waiting for you.

“Unnie!” Zoey whispered-yelled as you came into view, her eyes lighting up in relief. Jun-hee was right behind her, giving you a big smile and waving you over with an expression full of warmth. You didn’t hesitate, pulling both of them into a tight hug. The moment felt comforting, but the danger still lingered in the air. You held their faces gently, searching for any signs of injury.

“Are you both hurt?” you asked, voice steady but filled with concern.

In the background, you could hear Gi-hun telling everyone to come out, reassuring them that you wouldn’t hurt them. His voice was low but commanding, a sense of authority settling over the group.

Jun-hee and Zoey shook their heads before telling you they were okay. You exhaled softly, a sigh of relief escaping you as the weight in your chest lifted slightly. You gave them a small smile.

“When you mentioned collecting guns and gunmanship, I really thought you meant some online FPS game,” Zoey said, trying to lighten the mood, a playful glint in her eyes. You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Really now? Well, I might be old, but not that old. I’m still strong enough to do these things,” you said, flexing your arms with an exaggerated grunt. Your muscles were hardly impressive, but the action was enough to make the three of you laugh. It felt good—too good for the situation you were all in.

You continued to smile as the laughter settled, but your thoughts flickered back to reality. “Alright, you two, go ahead. I’ll catch up with you soon. I need to collect the guns and ammo from the guards first,” you said, your tone firm but affectionate. You ushered them toward the center before you set about your task.

As you moved toward the fallen guards, your hands quickly went to work, collecting the weapons and ammo. You moved with precision, and were so in the zone that you barely noticed a figure following you.

“Are you alright?”

A sharp breath caught in your throat as you jerked your head toward the sound. In an instant, your fingers gripped the handle of your gun, and you pointed it at the source of the voice. When you saw who it was, your tension loosened, but only slightly. Your breath came out in a shaky exhale as you lowered the gun.

“Young-il, you scared me!” you said, pressing a hand to your chest, heart still racing from the sudden scare.

“Ah? That so?” he replied, a small, teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m very sorry then.”

“Oh, shut up. That’s not the look of someone who’s sorry,” you shot back, though a smile tugged at your own lips.

The two of you shared a brief laugh before the tension in your bodies dissipated enough for you to focus on the task at hand again. “Help me out with these, will you?” you asked, gesturing to the weapons scattered on the ground. He didn’t hesitate, moving to gather the magazines and guns.

The two of you worked in relative silence, the only sounds the shifting of metal and the occasional clink of ammunition being loaded. Despite everything, the atmosphere between you felt strangely light. It was as if, for a moment, the world outside was forgotten and it was just the two of you working together. You didn’t know why, but it was oddly comforting.

“May I ask how you’re so familiar with guns?” he asked, genuinely curious now. He hadn’t expected you to be the type, but he wasn’t in a position to judge anymore.

You hesitated for a moment before replying, your voice softening. “Well, I used to have an aunt who was really into guns. She married a fellow gun enthusiast, and together they opened up a shooting range near our home. At first, I wasn’t that interested. Guns weren’t my thing, really.” You paused, remembering the past. “But then I started noticing someone—someone I had a crush on. He was always reading about guns, and I thought maybe I could get him to teach me. I thought it’d be a way to connect, you know?”

Young-il nodded as he stayed quiet, finding comfort in your voice as you talked him away. You took a deep breath before continuing, the words spilling out freely.

“When I asked him about it, he just brushed me off. Told me that girls like me should stick to cooking and cleaning and that guns were for ‘big boys’ like him. Some bullshit like that.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I didn’t take it well. It pissed me off, actually. And from that day on, I got serious about guns—just to prove I could be as good as any guy.” You let out a bitter chuckle. “Now, I’ve got a collection at home.”

The air around you seemed to shift. The lightheartedness had drained from the conversation, and you felt the past creeping up on you. Young-il must’ve noticed the change in your mood, because he didn’t speak right away. Instead, he gave you space, knowing you needed it.

A few moments passed before you spoke again, your voice distant. “A few years after we met again, things just... happened. One thing led to another, and I ended up having a beautiful baby girl.” You smiled softly, but it quickly faded. “You should meet her. I think she’d like you.”

Young-il’s face softened for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. You felt the smile fade completely as you continued. “I’m happy to have her, I really am... But it wasn’t supposed to happen that way. The guy... he wasn’t in it for the right reasons. He just wanted to drain me dry and disappear. He never told me about his debt. And the collectors...”

You trailed off, the heaviness of the past taking over. Young-il stayed quiet, giving you the space you needed to process everything.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Young-il said gently, his voice softer than before.

You shook your head, offering him a reassuring smile. “No, no… it’s okay. You deserve to know.” A brief silence passed between you two before you started explaining, the weight of your words settling heavily in the air.

“When the collectors came to my house, I found out that he had put my name and address down as the guarantor. In their eyes, I owed them around 1 billion won, but that was far from the truth. They told me that since I was their ‘favorite’ debtee, they struck up a deal. They’d lower the debt to 800 million... and another form of payment to cover the remaining 200 million…” You paused, your breath catching in your throat. “In return... they’d keep my kid hostage until I paid them every last cent.”

Young-il looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and sympathy. He didn’t know what to say, but his expression was enough. He opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it, opting for silence. After a while, he let his mouth open. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It must’ve taken a lot of courage to tell me, especially to someone you’ve only just met.”

Grabbing the last available gun, you smiled back at him, but it was a smile tinged with sadness. “It’s alright, Young-il,” you said, your voice steady despite the heaviness in your heart. “I know this is not the right time for these things, but you’re definitely more than just someone I’ve only just met.”

Young-il froze, your words sinking into him like a knife he hadn’t seen coming. He kept his face neutral, but inside, a storm raged. He had tried to suppress it—whatever it was that made his chest tighten whenever you spoke to him, that made his thoughts drift to you in moments of quiet. But now, hearing you say those words, the feelings he had buried clawed their way to the surface.

His gaze flickered to you, trying to gauge if you understood what you had just done. But your eyes met his with a casual earnestness, as if you hadn’t realized the impact of your words. Of course, you didn’t. You couldn’t.

You didn’t know that every small interaction with you chipped away at the walls he had built around himself. That every glance, every word, every fleeting moment made it harder for him to maintain the facade of indifference he had perfected over the years.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his jaw tightening. What was he supposed to say? That you were right? That you were more than just someone he’d met in the chaos of the games? That you had become something he didn’t know how to handle?

No. He couldn’t say any of that. Not now. Not ever.

So instead, he said nothing.

“Are you ready?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, completely unaware of the turmoil brewing inside him.

He nodded once, stiffly, as if the motion required more effort than it should. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice low and even.

As you turned away, he lingered for a moment, watching you. His chest ached with a mix of emotions he didn’t want to name—ones he thought he had locked away when he lost the love of his life. He had told himself there was no room for them, especially not now, especially not with you.

And yet, here they were, threatening to unravel him.

He shook his head, forcing himself to follow after you, his steps heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid. He couldn’t afford to let himself feel—not here, not in this place where feelings were a liability.

But as much as he tried to bury it, he knew it was too late. He had already let you in, even if you didn’t know it.

You stood beside Young-il, both of you observing the remaining players, the silent anticipation thick in the air. The guns and ammo laid before you, the weight of the upcoming mission pressing down on everyone. Gi-hun, at the front of the group, finally broke the silence, his voice steady yet resolute.

“We will capture those who captured us, putting an end to this game, and making them pay.”

The weight of his words hit hard, but there was no turning back now. Everyone knew what was at stake. Beside Jun-hee, Zoey's gaze lingered on Young-il, watching him carefully. There was something off about him, something she couldn’t quite place, but she was determined to figure it out. She was always one to notice the little things.

Gi-hun’s voice rang out again, more direct this time. “Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward.”

For a long moment, no one moved. Fear was a suffocating blanket that kept them frozen in place. Then, Jung-bae stepped forward, his presence almost a defiance against the tension in the room.

“I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice firm, though tinged with his own nervousness. “We’re scared too. But this might be our last chance to make it out of here alive.” A beat of silence followed, heavy and thick. Then, with a quiet resolve, Jung-bae continued, “Fight with us, so we can go home together.”

One by one, four men stepped up, their faces a mix of fear and determination. They grabbed their guns and ammo, preparing for the fight ahead. Gi-hun began instructing everyone to check their ammo, his eyes scanning the group for any sign of hesitation. Jung-bae handed out radios, the weight of their importance not lost on anyone.

“We’ll be using channel 7, the lucky number,” he announced. Everyone nodded in unison, following his instructions.

Gi-hun turned to Young-il, who was checking his ammo with meticulous care. “Thank you for earlier,” He said, his voice quieter than usual. Young-il didn’t look up, his focus still on the gun in his hands. “You can buy me soju when we get out,” he muttered, his voice gruff but carrying a faint hint of amusement.

You overheard their exchange and couldn’t resist the urge to tease. “What about me? Where’s my thanks?” You pushed the ammo back into its place, a smirk playing at your lips as both men glanced at you in surprise. Your chuckle filled the tense air, lightening the mood for a brief moment. “I’m just messing with you. Good luck out there, Captain. Get us out of here.”

Gi-hun smiled back at you, nodding before turning to check the rest of the team.

Meanwhile, Player 120, noticing Player 246 struggling with his ammo, stepped forward without hesitation. She called for everyone’s attention, and the group grew silent as she began to demonstrate how to operate the gun in her hands.

“This is the MP5, a submachine gun,” she said with a confident grin, her hands moving smoothly as she demonstrated how to load, unload, and switch the mode of the weapon.

You couldn’t help but watch her, fascinated by the fluidity of her movements. There was something almost hypnotic about the way she handled the weapon, and you felt a rush of excitement. You exchanged a glance with Young-il, catching his teasing look. Your eyes narrowed playfully in return.

“What?” you said, your voice light, but with a hint of a challenge. “It’s not every day you find another girl with the same interest as me.”

“Well, I didn’t say anything,” Young-il replied, his tone nonchalant, but there was a subtle spark of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you. His lips quirked slightly, as if he was trying to suppress a smile but failing just a little.

You shot him a playful glare, your eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. "Just saying, it's rare to find someone who gets it." You crossed your arms, leaning back slightly as you met his gaze, your voice teasing but with a quiet warmth.

Young-il raised an eyebrow, his smirk lingering. "I get it, trust me," he said, his voice a lot softer.

As player 120 returned to her spot, You and Player 246, who seemed just as curious as you, looked at her in astonishment. “Where did you learn so much about guns?” 246 asked, his tone a mix of awe and genuine interest. You were itching to ask the same thing, and when Player 120 answered, you couldn’t help but grin.

“Ah, I was a sergeant first class in the ROK Special Forces,” she said, her tone casual but proud.

You practically beamed at her answer. “Wow,” you muttered, feeling a newfound respect for the woman who had so confidently shared her experience. You turned to the male beside you, ready to share your thoughts, but as your gaze flickered over to Young-il, you noticed something you hadn’t seen before—a distance in his expression, something off. The familiarity of his stoic face was still there, but there was a coldness behind it now that you couldn’t place. You felt your chest tighten, and for a moment, your confidence faltered. The words you wanted to say got stuck in your throat. Was there something bothering him?

You hesitated for a second before turning your attention back to Player 120, deciding not to press. You wanted to focus on the task ahead, but that nagging feeling in your chest refused to subside.

Gi-hun’s voice broke through the quiet, cutting through your thoughts. He pointed a revolver at the guard on the ground, demanding that he remove his mask. You felt your stomach turn as the young guard’s face was revealed. He looked no older than 25, his eyes wide with fear. Jung-bae’s reaction mirrored your own—he was visibly disturbed by the sight. He approached the guard, his voice filled with genuine concern. “Do your parents know what you’re doing?”

Before the guard could answer, Gi-hun cocked the revolver, silencing the room in an instant. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

His voice was low, almost a growl, but it carried with an unyielding edge. “Take us to your captain.” His words hung in the air, final and unwavering.

You followed the group, positioning yourself toward the back of the line just in front of Player 120. Before stepping through the door, you cast a glance back and saw Zoey and Jun-hee's worried faces. You offered them a warm, comforting smile, trying to reassure them, even if you weren’t sure how much comfort you could offer in that moment.

As you stepped through, you seized the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the other woman in the group.

“Hey, uh… my name’s [Lastname] [Name]. I just wanted to say, I really admire how fearless and knowledgeable you are with guns, especially for a girl. Not that it means much, I’m a girl too. It's just... the only other woman I knew who was into guns was my aunt,” you said, trying to keep the tone casual despite the nerves gnawing at you.

Player 120, Cho Hyun-ju, gave you a surprised but warm smile. “Nice to meet you, [Name]. I didn’t expect you to be so open, especially with how tense everything is.”

Before you could respond, the sound of Gi-hun’s revolver firing cut through the air. The loud shot echoed, silencing the recorded announcement urging everyone to return to their beds. “Down!” Gi-hun barked. Your eyes snapped up, spotting the movement of pink guards approaching from the corner.

"At one o'clock!" Gi-hun yelled, his voice urgent. You quickly ducked, instinctively reaching for your weapon. Hyun-ju, without hesitation, took cover and began firing.

“Cover me!” she shouted as she moved, using the new position to get a better shot. You returned fire, covering her as she positioned herself to pick off the guards. Every few moments, you switched between ducking for cover and popping up to fire. The rhythm became second nature, the cacophony of gunfire almost drowning out your thoughts. Bang, cover. Bang, cover.

“Cease fire!” Gi-hun ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos. You dropped behind cover, a sharp breath escaping you as the last of the guards fell. Gi-hun quickly checked in with everyone. You gave him a thumbs-up, signaling you were good.

"Alright, we move up," he said, his voice steady as always. You nodded, scanning your surroundings. Your eyes flicked to the CCTV camera near you. With a quick movement, you raised your gun and fired, taking out the lens. You saw Hyun-ju doing the same on her end. The two of you exchanged a brief nod, silently acknowledging the trust that had formed in the chaos.

Gi-hun led the group forward, signaling everyone to check corners as you moved.

Suddenly, you all halted as Gi-hun interrogated a guard. Gun to his face, the guard meekly pointed ahead. “The entrance to the management area is around the corner. The control room is right above it,” he said, fear evident in his voice.

“Move it then,” Gi-hun ordered, pushing the guard forward.

The guard hesitated, then started to reach for his mask.

“What are you doing?” Gi-hun demanded.

“I need to get my mask to bypass security,” the guard replied quickly. Gi-hun hesitated but allowed the guard to move, sensing no immediate threat.

But then, the unexpected happened. The guard froze, staring blankly ahead, paralyzed. Before you could react, a bullet pierced his skull, sending him crumpling to the ground. Chaos erupted immediately as the sound of rapid gunfire filled the air. Guards flooded in, and you scrambled for cover, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The gunfire was relentless. You moved, ducking and shooting, ducking and shooting, covering every angle as you fought for your life. The intensity of the moment was blinding, but you couldn't afford to lose focus.

“I’ll go for the management area!” Gi-hun yelled, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Will you be able to find it? Should I come with you?” Young-il called after him, a note of concern in his voice.

“No,” Gi-hun responded sharply. “I’ll go with Jung-bae. You need to buy us some time.”

Young-il nodded, his gaze sharp. Gi-hun and Jung-bae moved off in one direction, leaving the rest of you to handle the remaining guards.

Noticing two of your friends had bolted, you immediately motioned for cover, weaving between Young-il and Dae-ho. You glanced at Young-il, asking where they were going and what their instructions were. Young-il quickly relayed their plan, his voice steady despite the urgency.

With a firm nod, you raised your gun, ready to provide the cover fire needed. The next few moments were a blur of bullets and evasive maneuvers as you helped keep the guards at bay. You could only hope that Gi-hun and Jung-bae would find what they needed before it was too late.

As you continued to fight off the guards, you noticed Dae-ho's frantic movements. He was wasting bullets, shooting wildly without even aiming. The gunfire echoed around you, but his shots were going wide, not hitting anyone. You could tell he was struggling.

When he ran out of ammo, you placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him. “You good there, Dae-ho? Do you have some extra ammo?”

His eyes were wide, panicked, and full of fear. You could see the signs of someone who had experienced more than they should have, someone who had been pushed to the edge. His reaction was familiar to you—too familiar. He was struggling with some kind of trauma, possibly PTSD. Despite his fear of gunshots, he had still volunteered to fight, a true marine in spirit, but the weight of it was starting to break him.

Young-il noticed the exchange, his gaze shifting between you and Dae-ho. You handed Dae-ho some of your extra ammo, keeping your voice calm as you tried to keep him grounded. “You have to be resourceful. It’s okay to take a breather. I’m here to cover you.”

Dae-ho gulped, nodding shakily as he began to reload. You took the moment to shoot a few guards, hiding behind cover to keep your position steady.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere!” Player 047 shouted, his frustration evident. “Let’s follow them up to the upper level!”

You immediately shook your head, disagreeing with the idea. “We might get surrounded if you don’t have a plan! We need to wait for Gi-hun and Jung-bae’s signal!”

Young-il nodded, agreeing with your assessment. “Let’s wait until they find the control room.”

You were about to reposition when a bullet grazed your cheek, the sharp sting making you flinch. Blood seeped out, but thankfully it wasn’t anything fatal. Still, the pain was enough to remind you of how dangerous the situation was. You cursed under your breath as you pressed a hand to your face, trying to stop the bleeding.

Young-il noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he shot the guard who had fired at you, his sharp eyes never leaving your form as he checked on you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah… thanks, ah shit, that hurts!” you winced, but you quickly resumed your position, peeking out to shoot, then ducking back into cover. Peak, shoot, hide. Peak, shoot, hide.

But then came the dreaded sound of an empty magazine clicking. Shit, you were out of ammo. You reached for your pockets, frantically searching for spare magazines when Hyun-ju’s voice rang through the hall. “Everyone, check your magazines!”

The tension in the air grew as you all checked your remaining rounds. It was bad for everyone—almost all of you were running on fumes, ammo running dangerously low. Even Young-il was out.

Just as you were about to panic, the radio crackled to life.

“Young-il, Dae-ho, [Name], can you hear me?” Jung-bae’s voice came through, sounding strained.

Young-il looked at you, signaling for you to cover while he responded. You nodded, raising your gun to keep the guards in check.

“Yeah, we hear you. What’s the status?” Young-il replied, his voice steady despite the chaos around you.

Jung-bae’s voice came back quickly. “I think we’re below the control room now! But we need backup and more ammo!”

“We’re running low on ammo too!” Young-il yelled.

“There should be spare magazines in the soldier’s pockets in our quarters. Go get them!” Gi-hun ordered.

“Got it!” Young-il responded immediately, turning to the group. “Did you hear that? They need backup! Four of us will go, and the rest will stay here. Join us once you’ve gotten more magazines.”

“Who wants to go with me?” Young-il asked, looking around. Without hesitation, you raised your hand, determination in your eyes. “I’ll go!”

Young-il looked at you with a troubled expression, about to argue, but before he could stop you, two other voices spoke up in agreement. Player 047 and Player 015 both volunteered to join, and Young-il, after a final look at your determined face, gave a resigned nod. “Alright, follow me.”

The four of you moved cautiously, alert as you made your way toward the stairs. The hallways were dimly lit, bathed in an eerie purple hue that made everything seem surreal, almost as though you were walking through some twisted version of reality. The stairs seemed endless, twisting upward in the haze of the purple glow.

Young-il gave the order for you three to go ahead of him, signaling you to take the lead. Without hesitation, you followed. What you didn’t notice however, was Young-il making eye contact with the CCTV camera, and silently ordering the guards—through hand signals—not to shoot you.

As you turned the corner, your eyes immediately locked onto Gi-hun and Jung-bae. Relief surged through you for a second before you remembered the danger. “Did you find the control room?” you asked, your voice a mix of urgency and hope.

“I think it's right up there, but we can’t go this way,” Gi-hun said, his voice tense. “I want you to find another way.”

“I did a scan of the layout here,” Young-il said, sounding calm, but there was a quiet determination in his voice. “I’m sure there’s a way to go around them.” He turned to you, his gaze steady but full of unspoken concern. “You stay here with Jung-bae and Gi-hun. You still have more ammo, so guard them, okay?”

You blinked, feeling your heart tighten in your chest. “What?” you asked, surprise creeping into your voice. “Are you sure about that?”

Before you could press further, Young-il’s voice softened but carried an edge of finality. “I want you guys to keep their focus on you. We’ll hit them from behind.” He paused, his gaze meeting yours for a long moment, his eyes betraying just how much this weighed on him. There was tenderness there in his look, desipte that, there was no room for argument.

You saw the worry in his eyes, but also something else—a protective instinct that almost made your heart skip a beat. You knew there was no way to change his mind so you just nodded, pushing down the tightness in your chest and grabbed your last magazine. “Take this, Young-il, and be safe.”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on you. “You sure?”

You nodded firmly, despite the fear gnawing at your insides. “Dae-ho will be back with more.”

His hand brushed yours as he took the magazine from you, and for a split second, it felt like time slowed down. The touch, however brief, left a lingering warmth in your palm, and when his gaze lingered on you, there was an almost imperceptible softness in his expression that made your heart flutter, even if only for a moment.

With a final, decisive nod, Young-il, 047, and 015 ran as you peeked out from the wall, your pulse racing as you provided cover for him and his team. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the familiar sting of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

After a while you heard Young-il’s voice crackle over the radio: “We found it. Start attacking and draw their attention. Then we will hit them from behind.” Gi-hun’s voice followed shortly after, giving you the go signal. There was no turning back now.

Your grip on the gun tightened, and as you moved into position, you didn’t hesitate. With one last glance at Gi-hun and Jung-bae, you stepped out from your cover and opened fire, the rapid succession of shots echoing off the walls. You kept your aim steady, focusing on their movements, keeping them distracted. Each shot rang out, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on you—your mind was focused, but there was a constant undercurrent of worry, the feeling that you were too far from where you needed to be.

It had been a few minutes since you saw Young-il. The soldiers were still there, and a tightness formed in your chest. Something wasn’t right. You pushed the thought away, staying focused on the fight at hand, but you couldn’t ignore the nagging worry. Every time the radio buzzed, your heart skipped a beat, hoping to hear something from him.

And then, your prayers were answered. Hope rushed through as your radio buzzed to life. However, everything came crashing down when you heard his voice. Weak. “Gi-hun… Jung-bae… [Name]… I’m sorry…”

Your stomach dropped. You could barely breathe as the world seemed to slow around you. You grabbed for your radio with shaking hands, putting it up to your mouth as your heart raced. “S-stay where you are, Young-il. I’m coming.” The words barely left your mouth before you were already running, ignoring the shouts from Gi-hun and Jung-bae as you pushed forward.

Your feet pounded against the ground as you ran, the urgency flooding your veins. You couldn’t think. Your focus was a single thought—get to him, and get to him now. The radio fell silent as it slipped off your hands, and you were left with nothing but the sound of your breathing and your footsteps echoing in the halls.

You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to accept it. But as the minutes passed, and the distance between you and your goal seemed endless, something inside you shifted. Desperation took hold of you, and with each step, it felt like you were running out of time. Tears blurred your vision, and you wiped your eyes, but the fear that gripped you didn’t let up.

You stumbled, tripping over your own feet, the exhaustion starting to catch up with you. Your mind screamed at you to keep going, but your body couldn’t take it. You hit the ground, scraping your palms. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You needed to find him.

And then, you saw it. A flash of white. A shoe, just barely visible around the corner. Your heart skipped a beat. Ignoring the pain, you propped yourself up, the desperation pushing you forward.

You ran toward it, praying, hoping—maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance. But as you turned the corner, everything seemed to stop. A sudden thud behind you—the sound of heavy footsteps, too close. You spun around just in time to see a black-clad guard standing before you.

Instinct kicked in. You raised your gun, fingers wrapped tightly around the grip, your eyes locking on the target. You squeezed the trigger, but instead of the sharp report of a shot, the only sound was the click of an empty chamber. Panic surged in your chest. You were out of ammo.

Before you could react, the guard lunged forward, and with brutal precision, he slammed the barrel of his gun into your face. The impact was jarring, sending you stumbling back, your vision spinning and your body fighting to stay upright. Blood poured from your nose, warm and thick, but you had no strength left to retaliate. The world blurred as your knees gave way beneath you, and you collapsed to the floor, the darkness swallowing you whole.

The last thing you heard was the guard’s voice, distant and cold, as he spoke into his radio: “I have Player 132.”

And then, the world went silent.

“Good.” In-ho’s voice replied, “bring her to where I am.”

As Jung-bae and Gi-hun knelt with their arms behind their heads, In-ho, wearing his uniform, walked down to greet them.

“Player 456,” he said, voice masked. “Did you have fun playing hero?”

Gi-hun looked up at the familiar voice, anger flashing across his face. Before he could respond, he watched as his enemy gestured to the black-clad guard to step forward. As the guard approached, both Jung-bae and Gi-hun’s eyes went wide. In the guard's hands was you, battered and bruised, unconscious and lifeless. Blood soaked your clothes, and your head hung limply. The guard dropped you unceremoniously to the ground. Your body hit the floor with a sickening thud, and they couldn’t look any longer, their hearts shattering at the sight. Despite only meeting each other for a short period of time, you had felt like a little sister to them, someone who had always been there, and now you were being discarded as though you meant nothing.

In-ho, unfazed, pulled out his Deagle and aimed it at your motionless body. A surge of anger flooded Gi-hun, but he was too late to stop what was happening. He had helped you through so much, and now, despite everything, he couldn’t even protect you.

“Look closely,” In-ho’s voice cut through the silence, “at the consequences of your little hero game.” Before turning the gun towards Jung-bae.

Jung-bae, his face pale with fear, barely managed to speak, his voice trembling, “Gi-hun—”

A loud bang echoed through the room, and Jung-bae’s body crumpled to the floor, lifeless, blood pooling around him.

“No!” Gi-hun screamed, unable to contain his grief. He scrambled over to Jung-bae’s body, pulling him close. His eyes then flicked to yours, and he rushed to hold you too, calling out your name in agony. ��No, please...”

He tried to charge toward the masked man, his anger and desperation overpowering him, but the guards quickly tackled him, pinning him down. The sound of his cries filled the room, but none of the guards moved to stop it. He wept for both you and Jung-bae, unable to process the loss.

In-ho stood watching with cold indifference, finding satisfaction in Gi-hun’s torment. With a simple gesture of his hand, he commanded the guards to knock Gi-hun out. As the guards subdued him, In-ho turned his attention to the aftermath.

“Clean up this mess,” he ordered. The guards began clearing away the bodies, but when they reached for you, In-ho stopped them. “Leave her be.”

Once the area was cleared, In-ho instructed everyone to leave, and the guards filed out. Alone in hallway, he looked down at your peaceful face, his expression softening for a moment. He removed his glove and gently wiped the blood from your cheek.

The action seemed to rouse something in you, as your eyes fluttered open. Disoriented, you blinked, taking in the unfamiliar sight of black shoes in front of you. Your senses kicked in immediately, and with quick reflexes, you grabbed the revolver hidden beneath your shirt and aimed it at the figure in front of you.

Your finger squeezed the trigger, but instead of the expected thud of a body dropping, you heard the sharp crack of shattering glass. The CCTV camera behind the masked figure had been destroyed. The sound echoed, and for a brief moment, everything paused.

In-ho didn’t flinch. His gaze never left you, cold and unwavering. You, on the other hand, stood frozen, unable to process what had just happened. The gun in your hand felt foreign, heavy. The glass that scattered across the floor seemed to mock you—your aim had been off. You hadn’t meant to miss. But what had you really aimed for? The camera? Or something else?

His posture remained unchanged. Silent. Watching. Calculating. He didn’t seem angry or pleased. He was just... waiting.

The silence pressed down on you, suffocating. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked between the broken camera and him. You weren’t sure what you expected—more movement, an immediate response, or maybe... nothing at all. The question lingered in the air, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask it. You were waiting, too. Waiting for the next move.

Your body tensed. Was this the end? After all this was the enemy Gi-hun told you about. Every thought in your head felt like it was colliding, spinning in a storm. Taking a step back, your body reacts before your mind could catch up. What was he going to do? Was he still going to kill you?

Suddenly, the words you hadn’t even realized you were thinking slipped out, barely a whisper. “W-what do you want?” The sound of your voice startled you, hoarse and raw from everything leading up to this point.

“Answer me!”

He didn’t answer, he simply extended his arm, his palm open. A gesture. A question. It felt like he was waiting for something more than just your answer—maybe a reaction, maybe a choice. But you didn’t know if there was even one left to make.

The silence stretched out, thick and heavy. Your pulse thudded in your ears, drowning out everything else. And then, for the briefest of moments, everything cleared. A strange, unsettling calm swept over you. The fear, the anxiety—it all faded, replaced by something deeper, darker. You were done running. Done fighting. It was all too much.

Without thinking, your hand lowered, the revolver slipping from the aim you had kept steady for so long. Slowly, almost in slow motion, you brought the gun to your temple. Your breath hitched, shallow and ragged, but the world around you felt distant, quieter.

It wasn’t a decision. It was a release. A way to escape all of it.

But just as you gathered the strength to pull the trigger, you heard a slight sound. The faintest of movements. The sound of unclasping. You blinked, dazed, as something shifted in the air.

His hand lowered.

And then, with slow, deliberate motion, he removed his mask.

Your heart stopped.

For a moment, everything else ceased to exist. The room, the tension, the gun still pressed against your temple—everything blurred. The world shifted.

You stared at him, unable to process what you were seeing. The face that had once been a stranger now felt... familiar. But it wasn’t supposed to be him. It couldn’t be. The man standing in front of you wasn’t the same one who had fought beside you, who had once shared your vision, your cause. No, this wasn’t him.

And yet... it was.

"...Young-il?"

The name escaped your lips like a memory you weren’t sure you wanted to reclaim. He didn’t answer. He just raised his hand again, his gesture the same, his eyes locked on yours.

It wasn’t just a question—it was an invitation.

You stared at his outstretched hand, the choice heavy in the air. The revolver trembled in your grip.

This time, the decision was yours to make.

[jiminrings]

mature

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: the good thing about professing your feelings to jungkook is that it'd be over with, whether or not he likes you back — the bad thing is that he rejects you, even if you haven't confessed.

alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.

[ push n pull fic YIPPPEEEEE, fluff, angst, So Much Yearning, friends to lovers trope, jealousy, dunking on a stewpid jk (as one does), arguments that kinda hit home, redemption!! ]

notes: WE R SO BACK!!!! thank u for waiting 🫂🤍

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

You will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want to be loved.

In your defense (much to Jungkook’s offence), you want to be loved as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. He’s not pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but rather pathetic in the light that you want the entirety of him (stubbornness and occasional dimness included) to rub off on you.

You want to be loved pathetically in the same way that Jungkook never computes his expenses when it comes to self-indulgence yet always calculates when it comes to actual requirements. You want to be loved as wholly by the guy who can get by one DIY dorm dinner at a time by asking for scraps from the whole floor with a grin and his hands cupped in begging.

Jungkook’s one of your friends, if not the best you’ve ever had, and it’s a miracle that you haven’t jumped at each and every available chance to confess your growing feelings for him.

You bit your tongue that one time he bought you "one of those silly blind boxes you like" on a whim from a bookstore he only went inside to in the first place because he was dying outside in the heat, only to open it for you with your eyes closed and earn you an extra rare figure.

You had to physically restrain yourself (read: clasp your hands together in front of you) when Jungkook made you swap your counterfeit, barely-holding-on kitten heels for his trustworthy slides on the way home because your research presentation prior had you pacing nervously.

Every time that he gives you your tax of whatever he ordered (which always ends up being the best variant that your friend group could possibly order for a meal or a sweet treat), you have to etch into your head clearly, with ballpoint pen, that you will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want him to love you.

Every time that he gives you a one-on-one friend outing, just as he does with everyone else from your circle of ten people and counting (you lost count because you figure that all of you are about to outgrow the long table in the library that nobody else could fill), you convince yourself to never tell him how much you want it to be just you.

You figure that you’ll tell Jungkook that you do hold a candle for him, despite not detailing the extent, in this lifetime— maybe even the next time you get a moment alone with him, but you figure you won’t do it now; now, when he’s berating you for just a tiny sacrifice you made that’s minuscule for everything he does for you and everyone else.

“You’re impossible!” he huffs, his annoyance for you being loud enough to stop his faux display of studying and gather attention from everyone else in the library who actually is. Jungkook holds up his phone for you to read, brows scrunched at your look of amusement. “Jimin told me you were lactose intolerant!”

You can’t figure how and why Jungkook and Jimin’s conversation even flitted towards you when you recall clearly that the lactose-filled meal in question was from two weeks ago. You don’t question it because you already know that even giving it a second thought would already be too pompous of you, and you don’t question either why Jungkook looks too devastated at the realization.

“I just tolerated it,” you snort, burying your nose back into your notes, missing the flash of regret in Jungkook’s features.

He doesn’t know whether he’d feel more sorry over the fact that he didn’t know you were lactose intolerant, or that you didn’t speak up at all to preserve his excitement over eating at the restaurant he wanted to try out.

“But why would you?” he sulks, completely foregoing the textbook he has opened on the same page for the last hour.

You know exactly why you did, but you’d rather not tell Jungkook now. 

You’ll tell him some other time, that much you’re sure of, but not now — not now when he’s too devastated over your tummy issues, and not now when he’s just one revelation away from chewing you out over something he has to learn from someone else.

“Your broke ass bought it so I had to,” you murmur, rolling your eyes as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand.

“Foul,” Jungkook immediately chuckles, shaking his head at your retort even if he knows you’re just kidding around (he knows you won’t hurt him like that that), finally opening his laptop.

Jungkook, your friend, finally types on his laptop, yet it’s not for the contribution that he badly needs to put in for a group project.

Instead, he opens up the Google Doc and writes in a bullet point underneath your name, the words do not give cheese acquainted with three exclamation points — along with your name, is the names of your mutual friends and Jungkook’s observations that would come in handy for an outing, a gift, or both.

Jungkook’s that good of a friend, and that’s why you’ll never tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him.

( ♡ ) 

Getting gifts for someone who has a credit card and has no inhibitions when it comes to buying whatever they want is a difficult task.

Getting Jungkook for Secret Santa this year is even harder than the last, and that was when Jin snuck five strips of his name and left more than five of you (you don’t even know how that happened) without gifts, all while he was laughing to himself after he successfully gaslit everyone into thinking that they were all drunk and made the mistake themselves.

You don’t know what to give Jungkook that he doesn’t already have. He doesn’t have a girlfriend the last time you checked and while you can’t exactly wrap yourself in ugly, recycled kraft paper (as opposed to Jimin’s dumb, all-knowing-about-your-hidden-feelings suggestion), you’d rather not drive Jungkook away, even if you don’t know either how to drive him in.

You don’t have the slightest clue to what his ‘surprise me ;)’ scribble underneath his name means and it makes you feel guilty, far more than he ever could have after Jimin’s revelation of your dietary restrictions. 

It’s not the dilemma of who would sit next to who in the large albeit crowded dining table in the cabin that you rented out, nor is it the cooking and wrapping duties that each of you are tasked with that stresses you out this holiday season.

You wish so badly that the largest champagne problem you have at the moment was wondering if your Christmas gift for your nitpicky mom and nonchalant dad back at home arrived in time. You pray that your biggest hurdle is either convincing Namjoon that his room is just cold and not haunted, or breaking off a fight between Eunwoo and Soomin because they keep fighting over whose overpriced film camera will be used for the picture by the tree, or even talking Mingyu down from smacking Jin in his sleep.

The largest champagne problem that you have, even if it’s actually between life and living said life in peace without minding your inevitable heartbreak, is worrying about Jungkook’s gift.

You hold your breath as soon as Hoseok gathers everyone into the living room, your nerves probably getting the best of you because you hear Jungkook hollering to whoever’s closest to the thermostat to adjust it because your teeth kept chattering.

You have nothing to be nervous about, you convince yourself as Jungkook steps up into the middle and awaits with wide arms, your best friend being another victim of assuming that the comically large wrapped present is his (it’s not).

Jungkook doesn’t have any expectations for you to meet, you convince yourself as he becomes even more hyper when he learns that it’s you, so much so that he takes a lap around the backyard with his hands clapping furiously.

You can’t love Jungkook any more than you do now, you realize as you see Jungkook throw his head back in glee when he opens up your gift.

It’s only a Himalayan salt lamp. It’s only a lamp that you didn’t buy for so much. It’s only a thing that Jungkook said to you in passing one time, yet he’s beyond grateful — enough for him to carry you in his arms and take another lap around the backyard.

“God, you love me soooo bad,” he lulls, teasing you mercilessly as he unceremoniously drops you so he could adore the lamp up close. “I always wanted to lick one!”

“You’re so stupid,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at his excitement over something so simple; something so insignificant in the world of thoughtful, expensive gifts.

You affectionately think that Jungkook’s stupid, yet you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

“I didn’t hear a no,” Jungkook hums with his tongue out, eyes wide and flickering between you and the lamp. “Should I do it? Should I? I’m doing-…!”

You put a spoonful of cake into his mouth instead, the whine that escapes his throat still sounding like gratefulness to your ears.

Tonight’s not the night wherein you tell Jungkook how badly you want to be loved by him — not when he’s so preoccupied with his new salt lamp that he keeps daring people to take a lick of, not when he’s the one who’s being convinced that there’s a ghost in Namjoon's room and being bullied into sleeping in.

Not when Jungkook’s being the perfect, lovable friend that he is during the holidays and every other day.

( ♡ ) 

You’re well-aware that Jungkook’s a catch.

You know that he’s a catch and he’ll never live it down, and neither can you.

You’re very painfully aware that Jungkook’s a catch because you’re reminded of it every single day whenever you’re with your friends. You know that atleast two of them were integrated into the group in the first place because they liked Jungkook, and that doesn’t really bother you (more than it should, atleast) anymore. 

Sora’s crush formed out of boredom on Jungkook disappeared as soon as she got a boyfriend, but you understand why her gaze lingered on him in the first place.

Eunji’s crush on Jungkook already dissipated the moment she learned about his GPA, but you get why she had been attracted to his charm anyway.

You know that he’s a catch and that he’s not solely yours either, and the latter makes you humble.

“There’s flowers on your desk again,” you point out, the arrangement irking you for more reasons than one. “Why do you have to be so popular and handsome.. and lovable,” you mumble, the tail end of your mini rant barely being heard by Jungkook because he's too busy admiring his gift.

“What’s that now?” Jin piped up, eyebrows furrowed upon picking up your angry muttering. He's beyond confused, maybe just as much as you are, when you just snarl at him for his unintentional use of supersonic hearing.

“And why do I have to sit next to you even if I have allergies,” you redirect your attention to Jungkook who has to sweep the flowers to a beaten-up paper bag for safekeeping, the item in his backpack being the most used object for all of the admiration towards him.

“Because you’re the best-est friend ever,” he rolls his eyes, the faux pout on his lips surprisingly softening you instead of the opposite. “And maybe I’m the worst-est one to keep putting you through this.”

“You sound so stupid,” you reply automatically, crossing your arms and keeping them there. “But you’re right,” you exhale through your nose, conceding your defeat over willingly letting him put you through this, carrying the blame by yourself.

Jungkook doesn’t only act like this with you anyway. There’s no special treatment, there’s no false hopes being promised — it’s just you genuinely happening to fall for him.

“Come on, just tolerate it! Pinch your nose or something!”

“Why should I? Find another seatmate,” you sulk, making a point to angle your back away from him and towards Jin who’s at your right, doing his best at holding in a laugh over how ridiculous the both of you look.

“Obviously you’re the one with the latest phone so you have to take pictures of me with the flowers!” Jungkook whines, punctuating his sentence with a hand on his hip. He’s sulking because you’re sulking, and you’ve never hated him more at the moment. “Why else would I force you to sit with me?”

Jungkook’s stupid, and so are you, so you’d rather not tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him today.

( ♡ ) 

In all fairness, you thought you would lose nothing.

You thought you would lose nothing because in the first place, you barely expected anything out of Jungkook. Liking him didn’t mean that you were indebted to him, and liking you back isn’t something that he owed to you either.

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to fall on his knees and say something stupid to hint at his mutual love for you (although you did think about it a couple of times), but you atleast expected a little bit of respect from him to try and see the strength it took you to even confess.

You planned it perfectly, even taking a page off his book and making a whole word document for it wherein you spent days typing whatever crossed your mind throughout the day and erasing what seemed the most impossible throughout the night. 

In your word document, you and Jungkook would be out in the snow, skating in an outdoor rink even if neither of you know how to. You figure that you won’t attempt to drag (read: hobble with) him to the middle of the ice because in case he doesn’t like you back, the waddle back to the exit wouldn’t be as awkward; if Jungkook does like you back, you’ll still be hobbling to the exit, albeit happily.

In your word document, there’s a spine of a script that you would say when the day comes. You’ll skim along the lines of how you’ve never been so enamored with someone in your entire life (with the internal note that you’ll dial it back a bit if his expression turns sour), of how bright he makes your days for you, and how he doesn’t have to be obligated to like you back.

In your word document, you’re set. You’ve planned a foolproof blueprint of what would turn out, whether or not Jungkook is set on loving you the way you desperately want to be —

Except now, Jungkook completely undoes everything you’ve ever worked for.

Now, he looks at you with a glint in his eye that looks more apologetic than it is endearing. You don’t even know what led to your heartbreak exactly because one minute, you were just studying, and by the next, Jungkook’s already letting you down even if you haven't had the chance to rise.

You swear on your life that you weren’t giving any signals at all that you were actually about to confess. You were only silent, refusing to talk to him because you were too stressed over your task and that you were scared you would burst into tears if you tried mouthing the formula out loud, yet Jungkook mistakes it for your love.

Whatever you do on a daily basis, whatever you do based on your nature, Jungkook mistakes it for a confession that he wasn’t even supposed to hear until the end of the week.

He wasn’t wrong about the fact that you love him — what he’s wrong about is his assumption that your silence around him when it’s just the two of you, right now while you lose your mind over an assignment as you’re dressed in last week’s sweater and last semester’s horror, is your confession.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook winces, gently patting you on the shoulder as you’re yet to digest his rejection. “But I just don’t think we’ll work out.”

( ♡ ) 

You theorized that getting over Jungkook would be fairly easy on the chance that he rejects you after your confession.

You figure that Jungkook himself as a concept would be drastically difficult to move on from because he was just so lovable. He doesn’t know how to read a room and it’s one of his better quirks when you’re worrying over nothing. He doesn’t know much about knowing when to let up, and it comes in clutch when he’s pushing you to wholeheartedly do an assignment even if you’re already burnt out from crying.

Jungkook, as a concept, is indestructible. He’s the everyday variant of the goodness that some frat guys possess occasionally. He’s the realistic, attainable version of a main lead in a manhwa that’s only perfect 1/4 into the plot. 

He’s the manifestation of every good deed a stranger has done for you, except he’s someone you know with your heart and not just someone you could sketch from memory. 

With that, you also figured that moving on from Jungkook can’t be that hard because he was too out of reach despite being in the same friend group as you. Surely, it wouldn’t be so catastrophically hard to move on from a guy who just gasps for air every five minutes when he’s in charge of cooking in the BBQ hangout (instead of using the exhaust like a normal person), or from a guy who thinks citing references for a paper is only a suggestion.

The funny thing about it all is that you never actually confessed to Jungkook.

Actually (and contrary to the assumptions of the other friends you have from your circle), you’ve never said it to his face that you do have a crush on him. You’re ultimately known to be the friendliest person to ever walk the campus, and while not the most confrontational, they atleast expected for you to confess to Jungkook in your own way.

What actually happened was that Jungkook read through you — he does happen to be right about your feelings for him! He’s the second friendliest person right beneath you, and so the way he rejected you should never sting this much.

Jungkook thought it out meticulously. He read into the way you spent extra attention listening to him with your eyes practically gleaming. He read into the way you’d lag back behind him and hold him by his wrist whenever you were all crossing the street. Hell, he even read into the way you would take a shot at opening the extremely tight water bottle from the vending machine before everyone else.

The funny, tragic thing about it is that whilst Jungkook wasn’t wrong about pinpointing your feelings for him — you never confessed.

Jeon Jungkook, the second, ultimate friendliest man that your university has ever known, rejected you without even hearing the actual words from you.

He’s turned his back on you even before you could reach him, and the realization sinks in you unsettlingly. You never expected for him to like you back because it would be unfair of you, and you knew that; what just happened to hurt you most was that Jungkook didn’t even think twice.

He hadn’t given you the chance to pour your heart out at the very least.

He hadn’t even given you the space to breathe right after the rejection, because he skips and puts a smile on before winking, telling you that he’ll never speak of it again because you must probably be embarrassed.

The funniest thing about it all is that you aren’t embarrassed — you’re actually devastated about it.

It’s an odd event for Jungkook to feel lonely because with such a big friend group, he never thought he’d feel a little empty despite literally rubbing elbows in a circular table. He never thought he’d come to be a little annoyed at Jimin and his routine, playful, borderline offensive banter he’d always have with you at the top of the morning, and he never thought he’d even be more annoyed over the absence of it.

There’s one less laugh in the circle. One less bag strewn underneath the table, one less coffee order written on the notes app, and one less person to look for when hanging out.

You’re missing from the friend group, and oddly enough, Jungkook seems to be the most devastated about it.

“Why is Y/N not here?” he asks in the middle of Jin retelling his drunken fishing story, grabbing the attention of everyone in the table and maybe just about everyone else’s in the common area with the way his voice is frantic. “And why is she there with the new kid instead?”

Everyone flits through separate conversations after Jungkook’s interruption, some even wincing to themselves because although they know about your admiration for the guy and not your confession-that-wasn’t-one, they figure that nothing good could come out of Jungkook sucker-punching the new kid in his head.

“I don’t know, man. Buddy system, maybe?” Jin shrugs, stealing his food because it was obvious that Jungkook’s attention is everywhere but himself and the table.

Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms tightly to the point that even he feels a little suffocated. His entire face is crumpled with hurt, eyebrows furrowed out of frustration when you still aren’t looking at him; when you’re still not looking at him with confusion in your eyes, silently telling him off for glaring.

“Buddy system? We’re in uni. Who the fuck would bully that guy?”

“By the looks of it, probably you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffs, refusing to unclench his fists on his thighs.

“Well, what’s it to you that Y/N’s hanging out with someone new? What are you so heated for?” Jin elaborates, eyes flitting to you again.

Jungkook could only glare at you.

“What are you so nosy for?” he asks defensively, leaning back on his chair in a faux display of relaxation when all he wants to do is to remove the stupid smile on the guy’s face as he watches you talk.

Unlike Jungkook, Yoongi’s not stupid at all — in fact, he’s been vigilantly aware of Jungkook’s glare on the side of his face ever since you sat in front of him.

Yoongi’s not stupid, so he angles himself in a way that Jungkook gets to see him more. He doesn’t know the guy personally, but he does know of him and his “charm” that seems to make everyone go nuts for him. 

If looks could kill, then Yoongi would’ve already had mourners at his feet, but if provocation could poison, then Jungkook would already be frothing at the mouth.

The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t even know about your admiration nor your foiled confession to Jungkook. The latter hasn’t even done anything personally to him. 

All he knows is that you’re in a big friend group and that you chose to sit with him, your friend whom you share a couple of advanced classes with but not a friend-friend like Jungkook is, and that you’re very easy on the eyes and admirable yourself if he thinks about it (he doesn’t need much time to ponder over it) — and, that he doesn’t really like being glared at.

“No really, I insist!” he laughs, pulling out a handwritten reviewer from his backpack with a grin. “I don’t know anybody else who likes making reviewers anymore by hand, so really, you’re just perfect to get them.”

“But you worked so hard on them,” you gasp, eyes already widening in both surprise and awe at the thick stack of papers in front of you. Yoongi’s handwriting and formatting are perfect; there’s no unnecessary calligraphy, the vividness of the highlighter is just right, and there’s even sticky notes at the bottom for additional details and references you could cross-check. “I.. I don’t want you to feel that I’m taking advantage-…”

“But I offered! You didn’t ask for reviewers from me shamelessly like every other opportunist does,” Yoongi laughs, throwing his head back as he slides the papers closer to you. “I’d be a really shitty senior not to give you any help. If anything, I think you deserve even better than-…”

Jungkook can’t resist.

Jungkook can’t take any more of watching you and Yoongi push and pull over whatever topic he can’t hear nor force Jin to eavesdrop on. He can’t take another second of seeing you be so happy talking to a guy that he doesn’t know, so much so that he comes up to you without a second thought.

“Hey,” he greets, his body only turned to you, completely ignoring Yoongi and blocking him off from your sight. “You didn’t order any coffee.”

You angle your body slightly to excuse yourself, except Jungkook conveniently happens to mirror your every move, confusing you even more. “Oh, I wasn’t feeling like it,” you trail, looking up at him in confusion while Yoongi could see right through him.

“Really?” Jungkook replies, the smile on his face being far from amused, eyes narrowed as he tries to catch up with the own annoyance that he harbors. “Because I’m seeing two coffees right now, and one’s in front of you, so…” he trails, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly.

Jungkook’s jaw is still clenched, along with his fists by his sides. He’s standing tall between you and Yoongi with his shoulders squared and his face steeled, the immovable forces that are him and the unnamed pit in his stomach starting to garner attention.

Namjoon has his phone out. 

Hoseok only has one cheek remaining on the seat because he’s ready to stand up and collect bets. 

You’re still sitting, mostly confused, when you realize the attention that’s starting to build towards the three of you.

“Yes, Jungkook. Great observation,” you snicker, the discreet roll of your eyes making him take offense.

“Oh okay, I see. So you were lying by saying that you weren’t feeling it, and I don’t get the hold-up of you-…”

“What did you come here for now, Jungkook?” you angrily whisper, keeping your head down as you retain your gaze on him and lightly tap at the table to indicate to Yoongi for the both of you to move. “It’s a little far-fetched for you to come all over here to pick a fight about coffee.”

Jungkook huffs, turning his head back to Yoongi behind him because he most definitely saw your signal. The lazy, amused gaze of Yoongi is what sets him off even further, the anger in his eyes unmistakable, except you recognize it for only what it is and not jealousy, because Jungkook doesn’t see you like that.

Or atleast that’s what the both of you assume.

Jungkook, your best friend, scoffs loudly.

“You sound so defensive right now.”

( ♡ ) 

You don’t respond much to Jungkook’s calls. 

As a matter of fact, you don’t respond much to Jungkook at all.

You don’t show up whenever he’s present, meaning that you’re only magically available whenever there’s half of your friend group at the most because if there’s more, then the search for the missing members would ensue, then you’d end up squished in a long table next to Jungkook again.

It’s very much like him to form grudges, yet he can’t even tell if he’s capable of having one towards you. Jungkook, with all his chest and afflictions, wants so badly to hate you because you’ve been blowing him off ever since he literally and physically came between you and Yoongi.

He apologized to you for that (and not to Yoongi because he didn’t really matter to him at all), and he doesn’t know the answer for it yet because his messages still remain unread. He’s enlisted the help of your mutual friends on various occasions by trying to get them to give all his little treats for you, yet you refuse them as soon as you catch wind that it’s from Jungkook.

He even tried studying for real in the library in hopes that reverse psychology (he thinks that’s what it’s called) would work and that thinking he doesn’t want you to come would make you do the opposite, yet it still doesn’t work. Jungkook’s already mad that he studied for nothing (he’s more interested in getting you to notice him than to actually learn), but he becomes even more heated to realize that your anger for him is just directed at him alone.

You still talk to your best friends, with the exception of him, and Jungkook has never been more envious of people who are apparently of the same status as him.

Jungkook wants you to drag him like you drag Sora to the nail salon and have you whisper at his ear to tell the nail tech not to cut your cuticles because you’ve been afraid of getting them done since that 1/34th part of a medical drama episode you watched on your phone.

Jungkook wants you to complain to him like you complain to Namjoon when you’re frustrated with a professor whom you’re convinced is only critical to you and no one else, later making him promise not to tell anyone else from your friend group because they like said professor.

Jungkook wants you to run to him as you always did, just because you feel like it. He wants to sit in silence with you again and put his hand on your knee when you’re in the verge of tears just looking at your schedule for the week.

He wants to stand guard again outside the bathroom door of the expensive coffee shop because it’s either the lock is broken or because Namjoon's managed to instill in you the existence of ghosts in cold spots.

He wants to be the Jungkook like you’ve always known, again, because it seems like you’ve forgotten him completely. You have the Yoongi now, it seems like — the smarter, more composed, and more charismatic variant of him that he wants to get rid of because Jungkook never predicted the existence of him.

Even more, Jungkook didn’t even entertain the concept of him being replaced because it was always the two of you together, even in a sea of friends. 

He’s your best friend, your confidant even, but nothing more — all Jungkook feels is that he’s even less than the status the both of you are assigned to be. 

He’s angry and sad and disappointed all at the same time because he thought he had almost lost you since he rejected your confession. You were fine; you were as fine as you could be for someone rejected when it comes to yearning to be his, and yet the moment you let Yoongi in, Jungkook feels as if you threw everything the both of you had just for him.

“Just so you know, student-teacher relationships are illegal,” he corners you one morning in your dorm, two godforsaken weeks after chasing you around the campus yet turning up empty.

“What the fuck are you on about?” you immediately scrunch your nose at him, the accusation he throws at you being too farfetched to the point that you don’t even think of shutting the door at him, ignoring Eunji’s betrayal for you by pretending to come over.

“What am I on about?” Jungkook exasperates, the scoff that leaves him making you feel small in front of him. “You’re literally the one who’s getting chummy with fucking Yoongi of all people!"

"Yoongi's a teaching assistant! He's our senior! Do you not know that?"

"Do I look like I'm interested in any other people outside of our circle?" he retorts, lips turned up in a snarl. Jungkook provokes you with a sarcastic glare, the look on his face enough to make you throw your head back in irritation.

"Come on, even Jin and Jimin are friends with Yoongi and-..."

"This is not about them!" 

"But you just-..." you stop as soon Jungkook interrupts you, losing your gaze on him for a single second to close your door and when you look back, you find that he’s already comfortable being vindictive on your bed, his arms crossed and his back straight.

"Also, teacher and teaching assistant both have the word teach so it's literally still illegal," he narrows his eyes sarcastically, the tone to his voice unclear despite his words suggesting otherwise. "You look so stupid right now."

"Jungkook can you stop?!" you burst, your temples stinging at the back and forth that Jungkook’s thrown the both of you in. “What the hell is going on with you?"

Jungkook had sworn to himself up and down that he has so much stuff to pick with you. He knows he has so much baggage to unpack and how much shit he has to bring up, even if it’s only been two weeks with you. He’s partly relieved that you’re in front of him and you still haven’t fled, yet a large part of him is beyond frustrated with you because you don’t even look like as if your time apart has taken a toll on you.

Between the two of you, it’s only Jungkook who looks like his distraught has manned him completely beyond surrender. Even coming to see you by hatching a plan with a hesitant friend is something he considers an act beyond surrender — whatever the space is between surrender and demand is where Jungkook lies with you.

"No, what's going on with you!” he argues, standing to his feet to come face-to-face with you. “You can't just spin this around when I've done nothing but be a good friend to you!"

"You think I'm not being a good friend to you just because I don't spend every single minute attached to you? I can still hang out outside of our friend group without being-..."

"This is not about our friend group!" Jungkook emphasizes once again, the tell-tale sting of tears behind his eyes coming up because he feels as if you can’t hear him no matter how much he repeats himself. ”This is about us and how you abandoned me ever since I rejected you!"

"I didn't abandon you, Jungkook!" you spit, pushing at his chest lightly with your finger to get him to back up from your face yet he refuses to. He’s still insistent at staring you down with his jaw clenched, eyes wide and unblinking because he knows that if he moves even just a millimeter askew, he’d cry. “You didn't even give me the chance to confess to you! You rejected me without even hearing me out. Do you think I would still be able to talk to you, face to face like how you want so badly, as if nothing happened?"

"The answer would've been the same even if you confessed,” he grits with his chest heavy, not at the way he keeps holding his breath in order not to break down in front of you, but because you look at him with so much disdain that it makes him want to puke.

"Do you not think I know that?" you laugh humorlessly, gnawing on your bottom lip as you don’t drop his gaze. “Do you think I didn't prepare for that possibility? I knew what could've happened if I confessed and I'd still be okay with it, Jungkook!" you raise your voice, throat already giving out at the slightest pressure because you know you lost the fight ever since you let him in. "What I'm not okay with is that you didn't even give me the chance.”

It’s evil, really, with the way no amount of self-pity could ever pull you from the grave you’ve dug up. You went for Jungkook, carrying all grief you knew you were bound to feel, and yet you still feel unprepared. You still feel unworthy even moping for someone like Jungkook because not even his rejection, nor anyone else’s acceptance of your admiration by some sort of miracle, is enough to make you feel like you’d be missed.

Your two weeks without Jungkook is your rehearsal for the two months, then two years, then two forevers eventually without him by your side. You had still been able to live by yourself and with your friends, excluding him, and you thought you were fine because it feels as if nothing had changed.

You thought you were fine until Jungkook gets in your face to tell you that it’s not, and all over again, you’re reminded of how desperately you want to be loved by him to the point that you’d rather drown in your own pity to try and preserve whatever’s left of you.

"I told you the answer would-..."

"Shut up!" you cry, steeling your nerves when you realize that Jungkook’s angrily crying in front of you, wiping at his eyes hastily. ”For the love of god, shut up!"

Jungkook stays quiet, not because you told him to, but because nothing good comes to mind when he realizes that you’re crying because of him.

"See? You don't even get where I'm coming from because you're not even giving me the chance to explain myself without making it all about you,” you sob, finally pushing him away, to which he lets you. "That's the problem with you, Jungkook. You're too self-involved."

"Not true," Jungkook whispers, shaking his head earnestly even if he feels the stupidest he has ever did in his life in front of you.

He follows your steps out of routine even if his brain had convinced his system that he hates you just seconds ago, arms instinctively trying to crowd you when you almost trip on the flooring on your way to the coat rack.

"Since you keep insisting that I abandoned you," you chuckle dryly before grabbing your jacket, turning your back on Jungkook and on your own space, which had just been the default hangout place of the both of you for the longest time, in pursuit of your own quiet without him. "Let me follow through."

Jungkook doesn’t want to tell you how desperately he wants you to want him again, to love him as you already did, and neither do you.

( ♡ ) 

The perks of having a big friend group is that the absence of several members wouldn’t make that much of a difference when it comes to hanging out. It would still sustain itself without a few extra voices joining in on the chatter watching movies and the bullying when it comes to a forgotten birthday greeting here and there.

The downside of being in one, is that said big friend group doesn’t matter at all to Jungkook when you’re not in it.

The lengths that your friend (read: a word that Jungkook’s come to abhor) has went through since your fight at your dorm are basically incomprehensible because he’s fully involved himself.

He’s pining after you pathetically, just like how you had always dreamed of, yet seeing him take turn after turn just trying to gain your forgiveness for something you’ve always pitied yourself for makes you feel guilty.

In Jungkook’s defense, he wants to be forgiven and loved (again) as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. Not only is he pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but also pathetic in the light that he wants the entirety of you (stubbornness and occasional sharpness included) to rub off on him.

“I know I’m stupid. I-I.. I know that I was unfair for not even letting you confess your feelings because I felt like dying when you started to ignore me,” he mumbles to your bedsheets, his legs crossed on the ground and his head muffled by the fabric because he doesn’t even want to sit next to you in fear of you revoking his chance to apologize in person, again, as if that’s not what he had been doing the past weeks. “Y/N, you don’t deserve someone as stupid as me and I hate it so, so bad.”

The sound of Jungkook apologizing to you has already been repeated enough to the point you’ve learned when to tune him out, but with the way his heart precedes his tone this time, you stop folding your clothes in favor of Jungkook who’s just two seconds away from passing out on your bed by fabric conditioner-bathed quilt-induced suffocation, to which he couldn’t pass up on because it was your scent and he missed hugging you.

“I can’t catch up with you on anything that you’re talking about with Yoongi. The only times I open a book are when I want to look at you but I don’t want you to see me. I can’t— I can barely even talk to you without feeling like I’m beneath you,” he admits lowly, the truth of his rejection finally springing up a little too much, and almost a little too late. “I thought, stupidly, that we wouldn’t work because you deserve someone better.”

“I don’t need you to catch up with me, Jungkook,” you murmur, lightly slapping his cheeks because he looks sleepy from all the sniffing he’s done on your quilt, but really, his eyes are only narrowed into slits because he feels like he’s about to cry. Again.

“But I need to, b-because when we run out of things to talk about that you’re willingly to dumb down to my level, what else could we catch up on?” 

“You’re not stupid. I just say-…”

“No. Don’t make excuses for me,” he laughs lightly, still sat on your carpet obediently like a dog because he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. “I’m beneath you and I didn’t want to drag you down with me because I.. I didn’t feel that you deserve me,” he confesses. “But I want you so badly, Y/N. You have no idea.”

Jungkook wants you so badly, that in your insistence of self-pity, it was his self-preservation that led him to cry by himself when you finally left the library after not-confessing to him.

He wants you so badly, that in his fit of self-preservation disguised into stubbornness, he had tamped down his desperation for you.

“I want to catch up with you, not you to slow down for me,” Jungkook rests his chin on your thigh, his wide, pleading eyes looking up at you. “I’m so sorry, my baby. I’m so, so, so sorry for being stupid enough to let you go the first time,” he tilts his head, resting his cheek on your awaiting hand. “Please. I’m just begging you to slow down for me this one time,” Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, nudging your hand gently with his cheek. “Please let me look stupid trying to earn you.”

Jungkook, without fail, tells you how desperately he wants to be loved by you.

[clourey]

synopsis ; imagine phainon w/ a reader who isn’t affected by the abnormally dangerous temperature of his alt form?

featuring ; gender neutral reader & phainon (alt form)

cw ; lots of physical touch (given the premise, of course), mostly fluff!

phainon, upon realising that you, perhaps because of a distant god’s mercy, aren’t affected by the scorching heat of his body? oh, he becomes obsessed with your touch.

often, you find him at your balcony after sundown, knocking on the glass door that separates it from your room.

per usual, his smile is eager—it puzzles you that he is capable of the same exuberance after countless reoccurrences of similar nights. alas, your confusion is a result of your ignorance. only when phainon narrates the tales of how much he has endured, will you comprehend why he clings to you with such profound persistence.

from the edge of your bed, you give him a nod of acknowledgment; his cue to let himself in.

with glee, he approaches you as his wings protrude from his back, blocking the dim lighting of your room and casting a shadow over your figure—a stark reminder of how dangerous this man is.

the glowing ichor swirls in the seemingly vast space underneath his open wounds. it’s almost enchanting, much like his eyes that—when closely observed—carry the weight of the world behind them.

before you can admire his devastatingly beautiful form any longer, he pushes you into the plush mattress. his arms, strong and blue with hints of divine golden littered across their surface, snake around your waist. his gauntleted hand digs into the flesh under your shirt, the cold armour (strangely enough) clashing with the heat your body radiates. it doesn’t hurt you, but it does draw out a reaction that causes phainon to sigh fondly.

“my hair’s a little messy, don’t you agree?”

you’ve quickly learnt that the subtleties phainon likes to play around are not because he’s embarrassed to communicate explicitly what he wants, rather because he doesn’t want to seem imposing. you think he doesn’t want you to fear him, for amongst all his desires there is also a desire for you to know that you are allowed to reject him.

even in this mighty stature, he remains gentle. something about that makes you adore him more.

as such, in quiet understanding, your digits begin to tangle themselves between the strands of his hair. grouping some, then braiding them with practised ease.

this continues until phainon decides to rise from his position, towering over your body as you watch the little braids come undone, earning him a petulant pout.

he chuckles—the sound of his mirth flows like honey to your ears, erasing the petty creases between your brows.

“did i upset you? i’m sorry, they felt—” his wings stretch and flex, the muscles of his shoulder tensing shortly, “—stiff.”

his gaze flicks to the fabric of your top that’s lifting, exposing the skin he’s grown accustomed to touching; finding reassurance in knowing that you won’t be harmed.

his thumb rubs your hip as he nears you once more, slotting his head by your jaw where he leaves small, intimate pecks. your hands, that lie against his chest begin to reach for his broad shoulders—they’re painstakingly slow, which excites phainon for reasons he can’t quite decipher.

he wonders if you can detect the fluctuations in his temperature because he’s certain it’s hotter now (the closeness is to blame, it produces a bout of jitters that feels like a new experience every time).

phainon retreats, his fingers intertwining with yours. he places a kiss on your knuckles, whilst his pupils are busy studying every feature that adorns your visage—every imperceptible change, he notices it.

the flush decorating your cheeks grows darker, for instance. your lips barely parting. your countenance would seem caught in a trance to the untrained eye, but your micro-expressions tell phainon that you’re reacting, every bit as immersed in this moment as he is.

something in him stirs, increasing the pace of whatever beats inside his chest. he likes the feeling of knowing that his need—a need so aching, desperate, is reciprocated, if only for a fleeting fragment of time.

he bites the inside of his mouth in brief contemplation before collapsing on you—without warning, to add. the abrupt action naturally elicits a squeak from you.

“phai—phainon?”

he hums, the rich timbre reverberating against the walls that cage your heart (to protect you from him, he had once jested).

“i’ll sleep with you. i don’t want to go home.”

you’re unsure if it’s the heavy burden that settles over his words or your weak will that bends so easily to his, but it forces you to betray your better judgement. after all, none can deny a man who yearns so fervently.

[widowsweet]

What does the Super Soldier hide? | b.b

✦Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader. Thunderbolts* x Mutant!Reader.

✦summary: The Thunderbolts find an enigmatic message on the cell phone of the most grumpy soldier on the team. Intrigued by the mysterious sender, they decide to investigate on their own - but it doesn't take long for Bucky to realize that something is happening.

✦WC: 4,8k

✦warnings: Fluff, family tensions suffered, Bucky being soft, chaos in the team, telepathy (light), domesticity overload, relationship revealed slowly, Yelena flirting lightly with the reader. (18+!no explicit content!!)

✦notes: The reader, in this story, is a mutant. Her gifts include telepathy and the ability to enter and manipulate people's dreams - something she learned to control over time.

I'm thinking of turning this story into a miniseries with Bucky Barnes and the mutant reader, but nothing is guaranteed yet. For now, good reading. 🤍

my masterlist

Bucky Barnes was a private guy. He didn’t talk about his personal life—not because he didn’t trust anyone, but because he had learned, the hard way, that the less people knew about him, the better. And honestly? Having his past dragged into the spotlight as a former war assassin and now, as a “new Avenger,” was more than enough. He just wanted a bit of peace. A normal life.

At the moment, the Thunderbolts were scattered around the main lounge of the base like poorly placed pieces on a board.

Yelena was sprawled out on the couch like she had no bones, head thrown back, eyes closed, looking more dead than alive. Next to her, Alexei was lightly snoring in an armchair, hugging a pillow that clearly didn’t belong to him. Ava stood by the window, headphones in, eyes vacant, like she wished she was literally anywhere else. John Walker was flipping a knife between his fingers, clearly too bored to cause trouble—for now.

Bucky had left a short while ago. Said something about sorting out an issue with the transport from the last mission—not that anyone had really paid attention. He just tossed his phone onto the arm of the couch, grabbed his jacket, and walked out, leaving behind his usual trail of quiet grumpiness.

The room was silent. No conversations. Just the occasional building creak and the collective weight of boredom in the air.

Then the phone screen lit up, vibrating softly against the cushion near Yelena’s leg.

The message flashed for just a few seconds, but it was enough. Ava, closest to it, caught a glimpse of the contact name and narrowed her eyes.

“Sweetheart?” she read quietly, frowning.

Yelena, who had seemed asleep moments ago, opened one eye.

“What?”

“Barnes’s phone.” Ava nodded toward it, not touching. “Someone just texted him. It’s saved as Sweetheart. With an emoji. A pink heart.”

That was enough to make Yelena sit up with a speed no one expected.

“Repeat that.”

“Sweetheart. That’s what it says.”

Walker raised an eyebrow, slowly making his way over, still twirling the knife in his hand.

“Wait. Barnes? The same guy who growls if we ask whether he sleeps? He has someone saved as ‘Sweetheart’?”

Alexei, now awake thanks to the noise, noticed the group’s focus on Bucky’s phone and shuffled over, scratching his beard.

In a matter of seconds, they were all gathered around the couch, standing in silence in front of the device like it was some kind of sacred artifact. No one dared to touch it—not even Walker.

The screen lit up again. Another message.

“Sweetheart💝: Is it cold out there? I’m making soup for us ☺️💗”

Silence. Absolute, stunned silence.

“Am I dreaming?” Yelena whispered, staring at the screen like it might explode. “Barnes has a girlfriend?”

“Or a very well-hidden fling,” Ava muttered. “Knowing him, this person probably lives in a bunker.”

Walker let out a low whistle, half-amused.

“That’s it. We’re finding out who this woman is.”

“Or man,” Yelena corrected.

“Or alien,” Alexei added, dramatic as ever.

“Whoever has the guts to send Barnes a heart emoji deserves to be studied.”

Ava shook her head slowly.

“You guys aren’t letting this go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Yelena replied, already pulling out her own phone. “Time to plan a mission.”

Bucky, the moment he stepped back into the room, immediately sensed something was off.

It was too quiet. And not the usual kind of quiet—the kind that came when everyone was too tired to throw jabs at each other or fight over the couch. This was a different kind of silence. Staged. Artificial. Almost… too peaceful. Like they’d cleaned up a crime scene a little too fast before the cops arrived.

He paused for a second near the door, his eyes scanning the room.

Yelena sat on the couch, legs crossed, a cup of tea in her hands.

Ava—who practically lived with her headphones in—was without them. Sitting stiffly, her expression so neutral it practically screamed “I’m trying to act normal.”

Alexei was flipping through a magazine—upside down.

And John Walker was… smiling.

Bucky frowned.

“I fixed the issue with the transport,” he said flatly. “Just a problem with the hangar’s authentication system. It’s working now.”

“That’s good,” Ava replied—way too quickly.

“Nice,” Yelena added, sipping her tea with the forced elegance of someone pretending to be a civilized human being. “Very… efficient of you.”

Walker just nodded, still wearing that weird smile.

Bucky narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn’t say a word. He walked over to the couch and grabbed his phone from where he’d left it.

The screen was still warm.

“I’m heading out,” he muttered, more to himself than to them.

And just like that, he left the room.

The following weeks were… suspicious, to say the least.

Suddenly, the Thunderbolts seemed way too interested in Bucky’s personal life. And not the healthy, supportive kind of interest you’d expect from a functional team. No—this was nosy interest, badly disguised as “concern for team dynamics.”

Bob—the soft-spoken, nervous guy who usually preferred to keep his distance from anything involving tension or weapons—started showing up in the most random places. He was never actually doing anything, but somehow always managed to be around whenever Bucky was on the phone.

“Oh! Hey, didn’t know you were here, Bucky,” he’d say, straightening up as if he’d just remembered his posture, pretending to check the thermostat on the wall. “I just… thought it was getting kinda cold in here. Or hot. Either one. Doesn’t matter.”

The following week, he popped into the elevator right as Bucky ended a call—with a slight smile still hanging on his lips.

“Hi! I was just heading up to, uh… get a document. I think. Might be lost. But hey—what a coincidence, right?”

Bucky would just squint at him. Say nothing.

Yelena, on the other hand, went straight for it—in her own way.

“Barnes,” she started casually, walking beside him in the hallway. “You’ve been smiling at your phone. That’s new.”

He didn’t reply.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it?” she pressed, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to read him like a map.

“Don’t be paranoid.”

“Not paranoid. Observant,” she said, raising a brow. “I bet she likes books. You smell like the kind of man who’d fall for a reader.”

He ignored her. As usual.

But she didn’t stop.

“Does she live with you?”

“Does she snore?”

“Do you smile in your sleep because of her?”

“Has she seen your arm? The vibranium one, obviously.”

“Yelena.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, lifting her hands in mock surrender—smirking. “I’m just saying… anyone who makes the grumpy supersoldier smile over text has to be interesting.”

John Walker was… less subtle.

In the kitchen, on a random morning, while they were both grabbing coffee, he dropped:

“So, Barnes… ever cook for someone?”

The coffee hadn’t even started dripping and Bucky was already thinking about chucking the whole machine out the window.

“No.”

“Okay, okay. Just asking. You know. Love in the air and all.”

Even Ava, who never got involved in the team’s personal nonsense, made a surprisingly out-of-pocket comment during training.

“You seem… calmer lately.”

Bucky glanced over without missing a beat on the punching bag.

“That a problem?”

“No. Just weird.”

She paused, adjusting the wraps on her hands, then added in her usual deadpan tone:

“You look like you’re sleeping better.”

He froze for a second, jaw tight—then resumed punching, harder.

Nothing made sense.

And somehow, it all made perfect sense.

They were circling. Prodding. Trying to chip away at any piece of the life he kept hidden—

especially that part.

It was another late afternoon at the Thunderbolts base, and everyone was gathered in the main lounge.

The kind of unofficial meeting that only happens when no one has anything better to do and boredom spreads like invisible gas.

Yelena was on the couch, tossing popcorn in the air and trying to catch it with her mouth (failing miserably).

Ava was typing something on her phone with robotic focus, not lifting her eyes once.

Alexei was reading an old Captain America comic, glasses at the tip of his nose, wearing the most judgmental expression known to man.

Walker was scribbling in a notepad full of group training ideas—none of them good.

And Bob, as always, was pretending not to listen but very clearly was.

The door slid open with a soft sound. Combat boots echoed heavily on the floor.

Bucky walked in.

He stopped in the middle of the room.

Everyone turned to look at him, slowly, with that fake disinterest of people who were obviously expecting something but trying to act indifferent.

Bucky crossed his arms.

“I know everything.”

Silence.

Yelena was the first to react, placing a dramatic hand over her chest.

“Know what?”

Walker frowned, leaning forward.

“We don’t even know what you’re talking about, Barnes.”

“Yeah,” Bob mumbled, chewing a cookie slowly. “There are lots of… things someone could know. You know?”

Bucky stared at them. One by one. His expression judgmental enough to be almost comical.

No one said another word.

He sighed, uncrossed his arms, and started walking toward the center of the room.

“I know you’ve been trying to figure out who I’m talking to on the phone. I know you’ve been following me, eavesdropping on conversations, asking not-so-subtle questions. I know there’s even a name for the “operation.” And that you dragged Bob into it.”

Bob raised his hands in surrender. Said nothing.

“And?” Yelena asked, resting her chin in her hand. “You gonna hit us?”

“ Thought about it. Still considering it,” he replied dryly.

Ava gave a small smirk.

“So… are you gonna tell us?”

Bucky was quiet for a moment. His gaze distant, like he was deciding whether opening that door was worth it. But when he spoke again, his voice was firm.

“Her name is Y/n. We’ve been together for three years.”

A pause.

A long one.

Not an awkward silence. But the kind that means something. The kind that happens when everyone finally stops pretending and actually listens.

Yelena blinked. Twice.

“Three years?”

Walker let out a low whistle, leaning back in the armchair.

“ And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“Of course not.” Bucky looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “ Because I like peace. I like the life I have with her. And because you all,” he pointed slowly, finger turning in the air “can’t even keep a frozen sausage in the freezer without turning it into a civil war.”

“That was one time,” Alexei muttered.

“You’re chaos. And she’s everything that’s not that. I kept you out of her life on purpose.”

Ava simply nodded, like she understood. Bob let out a soft “hmm” of agreement. Yelena, though clearly surprised, didn’t seem offended.

It was the kind of truth that, coming from Bucky, made sense. He wasn’t the type to overshare. Every part of him was guarded, measured, protected.

But now… he was giving them a piece.

Walker was the first to speak again, voice curious, almost respectful:

“And why now?”

Bucky looked around. And exhaled.

“Because you’re not going to stop. You’re gonna keep snooping, asking dumb questions, turning this base into a bad reality show… so I’m ending it my way”

“And what way is that?” Yelena asked, already smiling.

He took a deep breath, defeated.

“I’m taking you to meet her.”

A spark lit up in everyone’s eyes.

“But listen up. You’re going to behave. No stupid comments. No invasive questions. No fake bonding attempts. Got it?”

“Barnes,” Yelena said, offended “ do we look like people who wouldn’t behave?”

He stared at her. Long. Direct.

“Yes.”

Yelena snorted.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

Bucky shook his head and turned to leave the room.

“Tonight. Get ready. No weird outfits. And Walker, for the love of God, don’t try to intimidate anyone.”

“I’m literally the friendliest person here!” Walker protested.

“That’s tragic.” Ava muttered.

Yelena was already grinning like she’d been waiting for this day for years.

And Bucky, even while groaning, even while rolling his eyes at every step…

deep down, he knew.

Maybe—just maybe—it was time to open that part of his life.

To show them that even the Winter Soldier was capable of love.

The group stood in front of Bucky’s apartment door like they were on a school field trip.

Yelena was chewing gum calmly. Walker adjusted the collar of his jacket. Bob looked way too nervous, hands shoved in his pockets, one foot tapping anxiously on the floor. Ava stayed impassive, but her eyes were sharp. Alexei held a potted plant he’d brought as a “gift” — no one asked for it, but he was determined.

Bucky, standing in front of the door, took a deep breath and turned to the group with that classic “if you mess this up, I will make you disappear” face.

“Okay. A few rules, and listen close because I’m not repeating myself,” he began, voice low and firm. “No yelling. No weird comments. No invasive questions. Keep your voices down. And for the love of God, don’t try to act too cool. You’re not.”

Bob raised his hand like they were in school.

“And if she, like… offers tea?”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Say thank you and accept. Like a normal adult.”

Yelena grinned slightly.

“Relax, Barnes. We’re gonna be nice. Zero chaos.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You are the chaos.”

“But adorable chaos.”

Without another word, Bucky unlocked the door.

He turned the handle. And called out, in a voice softer than the team had ever heard from him:

“Babe? I’m home.”

A few eyes widened. Babe? Did he just say babe?

From deeper inside the apartment, a sweet, calm voice responded:

“I’m in the kitchen!”

And then you appeared.

You walked over with relaxed steps, like you already knew they were there.

You wore dark jeans that fit snugly and a black long-sleeve turtleneck, the soft fabric looking even cozier with the sleeves pushed up to your elbows. Your hair was tied in a messy bun — the kind that looked thrown together, but somehow still perfect.

You were smiling — that kind of smile that warms up a whole room better than any heater.

When you saw Bucky, you went straight to him and kissed him on the lips — slow, unfazed, just that kind of soft, simple affection from someone who loves without needing to prove anything.

“I’m glad you’re home, honey,” you said, gently fixing the collar of his shirt.

Only then did you notice the group behind him.

Five faces. Staring. Some clearly surprised, others pretending not to be — and failing.

You looked at them all, still wearing that gentle smile, and spoke naturally:

“So… you’re the Thunderbolts?”

A short pause.

“Bucky told me about you.”

And, without hesitation, you stepped forward with the calm confidence of someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

Yelena glanced at Walker. Walker glanced at Ava. Bob froze for a solid two seconds.

Bucky closed the door slowly, silently saying: Now that you’re here, choose your words carefully.

While he did that, you were already approaching the group with the same steady, warm energy of someone who knew how to break the ice — and maybe, secretly, already knew who each of them was.

You greeted each of them with a warm smile.

First, you offered your hand to Ava, who hesitated for a second, then returned the handshake with a slight nod. Then, you exchanged a knowing glance with Yelena, who immediately said,“You’re prettier than I expected.”

You just laughed, naturally.

Walker went in for the classic exaggerated handshake, and you matched it without flinching — smiling like you could already read him inside out.

Bob, nervous, nearly tripped over his own foot, and you instinctively caught his arm before anything happened, like you already knew it would.

Lastly, Alexei — the gentle giant — held out the plant, wrapped in what looked like improvised gift paper. His smile was awkward, like he wasn’t sure how to be cute but was trying anyway.

“Uh… this is for you. A gift. Bucky said you liked plants.”

Your eyes lit up as you took the pot, genuinely excited.

“I love it! My plants are going to be so happy to have a new friend,” you said, looking at the gift with pure joy.

Then you turned to Bucky with a bright look.

He returned it with a smile no one in the room had seen before — calm, loving… almost young again.

You turned back to the group, eyes shining:

“Please, make yourselves at home. Dinner’s ready… and the brownies are just a few more minutes.”

Yelena muttered, “She makes brownies?” already halfway convinced she’d just met the perfect woman.

As everyone started to explore the cozy apartment, Bucky stayed close to you — like he still didn’t completely trust the five of them not to break something… or ask you a hundred weird questions.

But you, with your calm voice and steady smile, didn’t seem fazed.

You chatted cheerfully, asking if the food was okay, if the seasoning was too strong, if they wanted water, wine, or both.

You had a way about you — that kind of grounding presence that made it feel like you could balance their collective chaos with just a look.

Bucky just watched.

A little tense, yes, but with that expression that said: You’ve got this.

Yelena, on the other hand, wandered around to take in the environment with genuine interest.

The place had soul.

A deep red vintage couch sat in the center of the room, with warm-toned cushions carefully arranged. In front of it, a rustic wooden coffee table held a vase of fresh flowers — daisies and lavender, probably picked by you yourself. A fluffy brown rug warmed the space underfoot.

But what caught Yelena’s attention was the pale marble bookshelf off to the side.

There were a few picture frames.

One showed you and Bucky on what looked like a trip — somewhere in Europe, maybe?

You smiled at the camera, arms around Bucky, who had his head turned to kiss your cheek. Sunlight framed the whole photo. There was peace in it.

Another frame, tucked in a corner, showed Bucky in black and white — clearly from the 1940s, probably during his military service. He looked… different. Softer. A boy trying to be a man.

But it was the last photo that made Yelena narrow her eyes. A group shot.

You were in it, but looked younger — hair down, laughing at something off-camera.

Around you were five very unusual people:

A red-haired girl with fierce eyes.

A guy with spiky white hair and a mischievous grin.

A Chinese girl with neon pink hoops and a yellow coat.

A serious-looking boy with glasses that looked way too high-tech to be normal.

And finally… a blue-skinned man with lizard-like features, yellow eyes, and a shy, gentle expression.

Yelena blinked twice.

They were definitely not normal.

She kept it to herself. For now.

She simply stepped away from the shelf and returned to the table.

Soon after, everyone was seated around a large dinner table — plates served, wine glasses clinking, the comforting smell of home-cooked food filling the apartment.

The warm lighting from the overhead lamp made everything feel softer.

Conversation flowed with rare ease for this group — like, just for a moment, they actually were home.

You served the last few side dishes and smiled:

“Hope you’re all hungry. Oh the brownies are almost done, too. Just a few more minutes.”

As you sat down, Yelena gave Bucky a long, amused look. He pulled your chair for you, brushed his hand down your back, and sat beside you with a small, content smile.

The meal was served, the food warm, the scent of spices and fresh bread floating in the air.

Everyone slowly started to relax.

You, ever the gentle host, went around asking if anyone wanted seconds, offering more salad, more rice, more of anything.

Bucky remained quiet beside you.

Always watching. Always present.

Bob, now two glasses of wine deep, took a generous bite of lentil rice.

It tasted like comfort. Like real food made with care. “God, this is amazing. I should ask for the recipe. Or just offer to live in the kitchen cabinet. Would she let me?”

And then, without even glancing at him, you replied, completely serene:

“No, Bob. I don’t allow people to live in my kitchen cabinets.”

Silence.

Instant silence.

Everyone froze.

Forks in mid-air. A wine glass halfway to someone’s lips.

Bob blinked. Twice.

“I… I said that out loud?”

You gave a soft smile, no explanation.

You just kept serving salad onto your own plate, like nothing had happened.

“What?” Yelena asked, brows knitting together.

Bucky didn’t even look up from his plate. He just muttered:

“She’s a telepath.”

The word lingered in the air like smoke.

Walker nearly choked.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Ava just observed. She didn’t look shocked — but she was definitely focused now.

“Telepath? Like, you read minds?” Yelena asked, already way too intrigued. “Since when?”

You finally looked at them, that calm expression still your trademark.

“Since always. But I control it. I promise I don’t go around reading everyone’s minds… unless you think really loud”

You threw Bob a teasing look. He sank into his chair, utterly defeated.

“That’s not fair,” he mumbled, hiding behind his napkin. “My brain is noisy.”

“So that’s why Barnes kept you hidden all this time,” Walker muttered, still trying to process.

Bucky took a sip of wine like he was remembering exactly why.

“One of the reasons.”

“She’s officially cooler than all of us,” Yelena said, helping herself to more mashed potatoes. “Just saying.”

You smiled, accepting it like it was the simplest compliment in the world.

You continued chatting with them in that same soft, steady way — answering each question with patience and a little affection. Bucky stayed close, always watching, always alert, like he filtered every question before it reached you. Not out of suspicion… it was just his way. And you knew that.

The questions came from a softer place now. Not curiosity laced with judgment, but genuine interest. Almost excitement.

And you didn’t mind. You welcomed it.

As dinner went on, you started sharing a little about your life — your way.

You told them about the X-Mansion, where you grew up.

How your powers showed up early, and how Professor Xavier helped guide you with empathy.

You didn’t dramatize it. You just spoke like someone who had survived something hard and was now proud of it.

They listened. Really listened.

You mentioned your friends — the ones from the photo — and explained that it was taken during the Professor’s birthday party.

Jean had insisted on a photo with everyone before the celebration started.

It was one of those chaotic, happy days where everyone looked exhausted and laughing.

That photo captured it perfectly.

And then, without anyone needing to ask, you explained how you ended up in New York.

The accident that brought you into this universe.

No suspense, no melodrama. Just a story. A piece of your past.

Bucky, beside you, kept listening — jaw occasionally tight, his thumb rubbing gently across your leg under the table.

And they listened. With full plates and wide eyes, they listened to someone who held so much more than she showed.

By the end of it, the mood at the table had shifted.

Calmer. Closer.

Plates were empty.

The smell of brownies baking in the oven was already drifting through the air — warm, sweet, comforting. The kind of smell that makes you forget, for a second, that the world is harsh.

You stood up with a smile, brushing your hand over Bucky’s shoulder as you passed by.

“ The brownies are probably done,” you said, casually disappearing into the kitchen.

The second you were out of sight, Yelena turned in her chair, arm draped over the backrest, smirking.

“ Ohhh, now I get why you kept her from us, Barnes…”

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, already bracing himself.

“ A woman like that? Honestly. I’d have kept her hidden too.”

Bucky muttered a low “Yelena…”

But he couldn’t quite hide the little smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Seconds later, you returned holding a simple ceramic tray, lined with golden, steaming brownies — some with cracked edges, others with gooey melted chocolate still glistening.

You placed them at the center of the table and sat down, grabbing a dish towel to protect your fingers.

It didn’t take ten seconds for everyone to dive in.

The compliments rolled in fast. One after the other.

You laughed, adjusting your messy bun, a little shy with so much praise.

You explained the recipe was a gift from Jean — from a sleepover years ago. She insisted baking would be therapeutic. And it was. The recipe stuck.

Everyone kept eating, talking with their mouths full, fighting over the last piece.

As the night wound down, people began to rise one by one — grabbing jackets, offering thanks, the kind of cozy chaos that comes with the end of a good visit.

You helped collect jackets, walked each one to the door, thanking them.

“ And thank you again for the plant, Alexei,” you said sweetly, holding the pot carefully.

He turned a bit red and mumbled a quiet “It was nothing” before joining the others down the hall.

Walker gave a lazy “Good night.”

Bob complimented the brownies for the fourth time.

Ava nodded with a small smile.

Yelena? She just said, “See you soon, future best friend.”

You laughed.

After a few more waves and hurried goodbyes, the door finally shut.

And it was like flipping a switch.

Bucky’s large hands were on your waist the next second, pulling you close — not roughly, but with that kind of firm tenderness he only ever had with you. The grip was solid, warm, like he’d waited all night for this.

You turned in his arms, smiling, and your lips met in a slow, deep kiss — the kind that says I’m here, I’m yours, completely.

When the kiss broke, you stayed close, your hands resting on his chest beneath the soft black shirt.

“ You did great,” he murmured, voice low and husky in that way he only sounded when his heart was soft.

You giggled gently, barely a whisper, your eyes locked with his.

“ Think they liked me?”

Bucky gave a crooked little smile.

“ Yelena was flirting with you.”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

“ Really? I thought she was sweet.”

“ Too sweet,” he muttered, already pulling you even closer.

The next kiss was different.

Hotter. Needier.

The kind you hold back all night, wishing you were alone sooner.

His hands slid down your back, gripping your ass firmly.

A soft breath escaped you mid-kiss, your whole body already melting into his.

When the kiss finally ended, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

His breath was warm, a little heavier — like the whole day was finally behind him, left right here in your arms.

“ I missed you…,” he whispered, voice rough and low.

“ We’re alone now,” you replied with a lazy, smiling tone.

Bucky pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes locked on yours.

He reached for the collar of your shirt — that soft black fabric of your turtleneck — and slowly pushed it down, exposing your neck.

Carefully. Like unwrapping something he already knew by heart.

Without saying a word, he leaned in and began placing slow kisses there. One by one.

Warm. Lingering.

His lips pressing just enough to leave your eyes fluttering shut and your skin flushed.

He knew exactly where to kiss.

Exactly how.

And you knew — the night was only just beginning.

[kaiyunsim]

serendipity —

pairing : spider-man!jake x gn!reader

summary : a late night studying session with shinyu results in a weird stalker following you home… but wait, he’s webbed to the wall..? by… SPIDER-MAN? what’s even weirder is that you find yourself running yourself running into the hero more often and begin to see some similarities with… jake sim?

warnings : FLUFF, very very oblivious reader, jake is SUCH a loser here (i crave a loser bf guys… he’s just a nerd), jake is popular, shinyu as a friend of the reader

a/n : omg everyone thank @writhyv for getting me back to writing for jake ! ALSO for getting me to write a hot loser jake (i love it very much) GIFT FOR HIM !! thank u pook ilysm.

queueing… : serendipity - laufey, sweet - cigarettes after sex, safety zone - leehi, blue - kai (not yung kai)

— wc : 7.5k — not proof read —

jake sim is the kind of guy who could ruin your entire life without even trying.

he’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen in real life. like, actually hot. perfect hair, perfect smile, broad shoulders under whatever hoodie he always throws on like he didn't just accidentally win the genetic lottery. he’s popular in the way that feels effortless, always surrounded by people who seem to orbit around him like he’s some kind of sun.

the whole school loves him. teachers, athletes, the kids who sit in the back of class and never talk. jake sim could probably trip and faceplant in the middle of the hallway and people would still clap for him.

the only weird part is that he’s also… kind of a loser.

you don’t really know him, just know of him. he’s in a few of your classes, close enough to be a familiar face but not close enough for either of you to actually talk. if anything, he’s just background noise in your life, one of those people who exists on the edge of your universe without ever really crossing into it.

except sometimes, every now and then, you feel like he’s acting a little… strange around you.

not that you think too hard about it. probably nothing.

the first time it happens, you don’t even clock it as anything weird.

it’s in english class, some group discussion where nobody’s actually talking, just pretending to think really hard about the book none of you actually read. you’re flipping through the pages when you feel someone staring.

you glance up, and there he is. jake sim.

he’s sitting diagonally across from you, elbow propped on the desk, eyes locked on you like he’s trying to figure out the meaning of life or something.

you blink at him.

he blinks back.

and then, like he just got caught committing a crime, he whips his head down, pretending to scribble something in his notebook with the intensity of someone writing their final will and testament.

...okay. weird, but whatever.

the second time, it’s in the hallway between classes.

you're digging through your locker, minding your own business, when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

“uh—hi.”

you turn around.

jake sim is standing there, clutching his textbook like it's a lifeline. up close, he's even hotter, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, hair falling into his eyes.

he's also… kind of red in the face?

“hey?” you offer, confused.

he opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, then immediately shuts it again.

“never mind,” he mutters, spinning on his heel and walking away so fast you'd think the hallway was on fire.

...what the hell was that?

it keeps happening.

little moments that should probably add up to something if you actually paid attention, but you don’t, because jake sim is jake sim, and you’re just you.

he stumbles over his words when you ask to borrow a pencil. drops his entire water bottle when you accidentally brush past him in class. one time, you catch him fully tripping over absolutely nothing when you make eye contact with him across the cafeteria.

but for some reason, your brain just files it all away under wow, popular guys are weird sometimes and moves on.

if anyone ever asked you what you think of jake sim, you’d probably just shrug and say he’s nice.

you don't know that he’s been in love with you since sophomore year.

you don't know that every time he tries to talk to you, his brain completely shuts down.

and you definitely don’t know that the same guy who turns into a stammering mess around you spends his nights swinging across the city, cracking jokes and saving people as if confidence is something that comes built into the suit.

the third time you actually talk to him is in chemistry class.

the teacher pairs you up for some experiment, something involving measurements and burning stuff, and jake ends up at your table, tapping his pen against the notebook like he’s trying to act casual.

"can you pass me the beaker?" you ask.

he freezes.

his eyes flick to the beaker, then to you, then back to the beaker like it's a bomb he’s been assigned to defuse.

"...yeah," he says, voice cracking on the single syllable.

you don’t think anything of it, just reach for the beaker when he hands it over. your fingers brush against his, and he drops it.

it clatters against the table, rolling onto the floor with a loud clink.

"oh."

jake looks like he wants to melt through the floor.

"it's fine," you say, bending down to grab it. “at least it didn’t break” you joke to lighten to mood.

he doesn't move, just sits there gripping the edge of the table like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

you offer him a small smile when you straighten up, placing the beaker back on the table.

"chill," you joke. "it's not that serious."

jake visibly short-circuits.

"chill," he echoes, like it's the first time he's ever heard the word in his life.

if someone told you jake sim had a crush on you, you’d probably laugh.

guys like him don’t go for people like you.

guys like him date cheerleaders or instagram models or the kind of girls who know exactly how to flip their hair and laugh in that effortless, pretty way.

not people who half-ass their homework and accidentally fall asleep during history lectures.

definitely not people who would rather have deep conversations on rooftops than go to parties.

but what you don’t know is that those are all the exact reasons jake likes you.

he likes the way you always stick your tongue out a little when you’re concentrating. he likes how you always hum to yourself when you think nobody’s listening. he likes how you talk to everyone the same, never acting like anybody’s above or below you.

he likes you.

and it’s ruining his life.

—

"do you think jake sim is... weird?"

shinyu raises an eyebrow. "weird how?"

you frown, trying to find the right words.

"i don’t know. like... awkward? around me?"

he snorts. "he's awkward around everyone."

"not really."

shinyu pauses, eyes narrowing like he’s finally catching onto something you've been missing this whole time.

"...wait." he leans in. "do you seriously not realize he's into you?"

you blink.

"what?"

"oh my god." he gape at you like you're the dumbest person alive. "he's had a crush on you since, like, forever."

you genuinely laugh at that, because there's no way.

right?

meanwhile, across the cafeteria, jake sim is currently choking on his water because he saw you glance in his direction for half a second.

sunghoon pats his back, looking vaguely concerned.

"bro, you have superpowers, but you can't even talk to your crush?"

jake coughs harder. he’s so, so doomed.

—

you don’t try to stay out late. it just happens.

sometimes it’s because you lose track of time, caught up in the city’s glow. sometimes it’s because you’re walking home after a long study session, brain fried from trying to shove too much information into it at once.

tonight, it’s the latter.

shinyu yawns next to you, stretching his arms over his head as you both step out of the library. “i swear, if i have to look at one more page of notes, i’m throwing my entire textbook into the river.”

“you say that every time,” you point out.

“and one of these days, i’ll actually do it.”

you snort, tugging your hoodie closer around you. it’s late enough that the streets are quieter than usual, the hum of distant traffic the only real sound. most of the shops have already shut down, save for the 24-hour convenience store at the corner.

shinyu pulls out his phone. “should i call a cab?”

“nah,” you shake your head. “i’ll just walk.”

he frowns. “are you sure? it’s kinda late.”

“i always do this. i’ll be fine.”

he hesitates, clearly debating whether or not to argue, but eventually sighs. “alright. text me when you get home, though.”

“yes, mom.”

he rolls his eyes, flicking your forehead before heading off in the opposite direction.

you stuff your hands into your pockets and start walking.

your route home is familiar, same streets, same flickering streetlights, same little shop windows reflecting the glow of the city back at you. you don’t feel unsafe. if anything, you like walking at night. there’s something peaceful about it, something that makes the world feel a little softer around the edges.

but then—

you hear footsteps behind you.

at first, you don’t think much of it. there are always other people out and about. but as you keep walking, the sound stays steady, just far enough behind that you can’t tell if it’s a coincidence or something else.

your stomach twists. ‘who the fuck is walking around the same route as you at 2am..?’ you think to yourself.

you glance over your shoulder.

a man. mid-thirties, maybe. hood pulled up over his head.

the moment your eyes meet, he quickly looks away, pretending to check his phone.

your heart beats a little faster. you’re probably overreacting.

but then you turn the corner, and the footsteps turn with you.

you pick up your pace.

so do they.

your chest tightens. okay. okay. you’re not imagining it.

you scan the street for other people, but it’s mostly empty. the nearest open shop is too far ahead, and the alley you just passed is—

wait.

your stomach drops.

you didn’t even hear him move, but suddenly, he’s not behind you anymore.

he’s right there.

you barely have time to react before he grabs your wrist, grip too tight, breath too close. “hey—”

before you can even think to scream, something flies past you—fast, sharp.

and suddenly, the man is yanked backwards.

one second he’s gripping you, the next he’s pinned to the alley wall, struggling against thick strands of white webbing wrapped tight around his torso.

your breath catches in your throat.

what.

your brain barely has time to process it before—

“hey,” a voice calls.

you turn, heart still pounding.

and standing there, perched casually on the edge of a lamppost, is spider-man.

your mouth goes dry.

he hops down, landing lightly on the pavement, head tilting slightly as he glances at the guy still stuck to the wall. “yeah, i don’t think so,” he says.

the guy grunts, struggling uselessly against the webbing.

spider-man sighs. “not your best move.”

you just stare.

you know who he is, obviously. everyone does. but knowing about spider-man and actually seeing him in front of you are two entirely different things.

he turns to you. “you alright?”

you blink at him, mind still catching up. “uh.”

he tilts his head. “i’ll take that as a yes?”

“y-yeah,” you stammer, clearing your throat. “yeah. i’m fine.”

“good.” he gestures vaguely toward the guy. “i’ll leave him here for the cops. but, uh—maybe don’t walk alone this late?”

you exhale sharply. “yeah. got it. solid advice.”

spider-man lets out a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

for some reason, that tiny, almost shy gesture is what actually makes your brain start working again.

because up until now, he seemed untouchable, fast, sharp, the kind of person who moves like he already knows the next ten steps ahead. but now, standing here, he’s shifting his weight slightly like he’s not sure what to do with his hands.

and for some reason, that makes him feel real.

“do you, uh,” he starts, then hesitates. “want me to walk you home?”

your stomach flips.

“oh,” you say. “you don’t have to—”

“i don’t mind,” he says quickly. “just to make sure you get there safe.”

you bite your lip. you really should say no. he’s probably busy, and you don’t want to take up more of his time.

but also.

spider-man just offered to walk you home.

what kind of idiot would turn that down?

“…okay,” you say finally.

you can hear the smile in his voice. “okay.”

—

when you finally get home, he hangs back by the streetlight, watching as you unlock the door.

“thanks again,” you say, turning back to him.

he nods. “anytime.”

you hesitate.

“…do you do handshakes?”

he lets out a soft laugh. “not usually.”

“oh.” you lower your hand, a little embarrassed.

but before you can pull it back completely, he reaches out and bumps his knuckles against yours.

it’s such a small thing. so stupidly small.

but for some reason, it makes your heart stutter.

you glance up at him, but he’s already moving, gripping the edge of the nearest rooftop, hoisting himself up with an easy strength that makes your stomach flip.

and then, just before he disappears—

“goodnight,” he says.

your breath catches.

and then he’s gone.

you collapse onto your bed the second you get inside, phone buzzing with a text from shinyu.

shinyu: you home yet? you: yeah shinyu: good

you hover over the keyboard for a second, debating.

and then—

you: hey. what do you think of spider-man?

his reply is instant.

shinyu: idk. kinda cool? you: ...yeah.

you stare at the screen. your heart is still racing.

and for some reason, all you can hear is his voice.

stupid voice with that stupid accent you recognize but look over.

—

it’s become a thing now.

you didn’t plan for it, but somehow it has.

spider-man keeps showing up.

at first, it’s just the occasional late-night save, that charming but awkward conversation at the end where you thank him profusely and he gives you a weird little knuckle bump before disappearing into the night.

but then...

you start seeing him more.

you start to notice that he seems to be where you are, just when you need him.

it happens AGAIN one night when you’re walking home after another late study session with shinyu.

you’re tired. drained. your brain feels like mush, and shinyu, though he’s usually the one full of energy, seems to be on the same wavelength.

"i swear," he mutters, "if i see one more page of equations, i’m going to just… yeet this textbook into the nearest river."

you snort, nudging him. "don’t tempt me. i’m kind of considering it myself."

you both chuckle, but it's tired. the kind of tired where you can’t even muster the energy to fake your usual enthusiasm.

the streets are quiet again, just the sound of your footsteps echoing in the night.

and, as usual, that familiar feeling creeps in, like you’re being watched.

you brush it off. it’s probably just a shadow, the way the streetlights flicker and make things seem closer than they are.

but then, in the distance, a small rustle.

you freeze for a second, but quickly continue walking, convincing yourself it’s nothing.

you turn another corner, and then, there he is.

spider-man.

you blink, more than a little surprised.

“oh, hey,” you say, trying to act casual. "what's up?"

he’s leaning against the side of a building, arms crossed, but when you notice the way he’s watching you, you can’t shake the feeling that maybe he’s been here for a while.

he straightens, suddenly looking a bit... embarrassed? "uh, nothing much. just making sure you're alright."

you blink, a little confused. "i’m fine? why wouldn’t i be?"

he gives a small shrug, like it’s no big deal. "you know, just being careful. you’re walking kinda late, and i’m... well, i’m always around."

you raise an eyebrow. "you just 'happen' to be around whenever i'm out late?"

he looks sheepish. "yep."

you stare at him for a second.

“are you stalking me?” you joke, but it comes out a little too serious.

his eyes widen, and he starts shaking his head quickly, scratching at the back of his neck. "no! no, of course not. just... making sure you're safe, y’know?"

you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes. "right. sure."

he seems to relax when you don’t push it further. “anyway, i could walk you home if you want. just in case, you know?”

you shrug. it’s not like you mind. "okay, but only because you’re weirdly persistent."

he grins, clearly relieved. "wouldn’t dream of letting you walk alone."

it’s an awkward, quiet walk. mostly because spider-man doesn’t seem to know how to start a normal conversation. his silence is comfortable, though, like there’s no need to fill the space. just walking with him feels nice.

by the time you’re at your front door, you’re laughing over something dumb that shinyu had said earlier. you feel strangely at ease.

"thanks for walking me home," you say.

he shrugs. “it’s nothing. just doing my part.”

you smile, heart skipping a beat. "goodnight, spider-man."

"goodnight," he replies, his voice soft. then, as usual, he’s gone before you can say anything else.

—

the routine builds quickly after that.

it becomes normal to see him around whenever you’re out at night.

he always seems to be around, sometimes just dropping in for a casual chat, other times swooping in to rescue you from the occasional shady character or two.

but it’s the quiet moments you start to cherish.

there’s one night where you and shinyu are hanging out on the rooftop of your building, talking about life as you always do. the sky is clear, the stars twinkling, and it feels like a moment frozen in time.

shinyu is sprawled across the floor, pretending to sleep, while you’re sitting with your legs dangling over the edge, arms resting on your knees.

“so,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence. “what’s the deal with spider-man, anyway? you two talk a lot now.”

you freeze for a second, eyes narrowing. “what do you mean ‘talk a lot?’”

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “i’m just saying. you two have some weird dynamic. are you, like, dating or something?”

you laugh it off. “what? no! it’s just... he’s, uh, nice. i don’t know, he’s just been around when i’ve needed him, that’s all.”

shinyu sits up, raising an eyebrow. “oh, really? just ‘happens’ to be there. that’s cute.”

you roll your eyes. “he’s cool, okay?”

he gives you a knowing look. “if you say so.”

before you can respond, you hear the familiar sound of whoosh above you.

spider-man drops down onto the roof, landing lightly beside you with an easy smile.

“hey, guys,” he says casually, like he hasn’t just flown in to join the conversation.

you smile at him, your heart fluttering a little. “hey, spider-man.”

shinyu squints at him, grinning. “so, we’re just hanging out, huh? that’s cool. do you want anything to drink?”

spider-man looks at him in confusion. “huh?”

“i mean, you’re here now. should we get drinks?” shinyu gestures to the corner store below. “i’ll go down and grab something. you want anything?”

spider-man glances at you first, and then back at shinyu, his expression unreadable for a moment.

“uh, sure,” he says, his voice a little uncertain. “i’ll just have whatever you’re getting.”

shinyu gives a little nod before standing up and heading down the stairs to the convenience store.

you and spider-man are left alone again.

the air feels different this time, like the space between you has changed. you both sit there in silence for a moment.

he clears his throat. “so, uh... how’s the studying going?”

you laugh softly. “honestly? i want to burn my textbooks.”

he chuckles. “yeah, i get that. same.”

you glance at him, curious. “you study too?”

he shrugs, looking awkward. “well... when i’m not being, you know, spider-man. i try to keep up.”

you nod, smiling. “cool. you seem smart.”

he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah, well, it’s all kind of a... blur, y’know?”

you laugh again. "yeah, i know exactly what you mean."

and suddenly, you realize something.

you’re actually... comfortable with him.

not just the whole superhero thing, not just the awkwardness, but the person behind it. you don’t need to be on edge around him.

and somehow, that makes you feel both lighter and a little strange.

later, shinyu returns with drinks, and the conversation picks up again. spider-man relaxes a little more, though he still seems a bit fidgety.

you can’t help but notice how, even now, when he’s around shinyu, he still doesn’t seem to know how to act. there’s an ease to his awkwardness that’s almost endearing.

shinyu teases him a little, asking if he’s ever had to take his suit off after a long night of “saving people” and spider-man just shrugs awkwardly, mumbling something about the suit being “perfectly breathable” as if that’s the most casual thing in the world.

it’s a weird dynamic, but it works.

and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel quite so... lonely.

—

when it’s time to leave, spider-man walks you home again, which is literally downstairs.

you’re still laughing from something shinyu said, but when you glance over at spider-man, you notice him looking at you more seriously than usual.

“you okay?” you ask, surprised by the shift in his mood.

“yeah,” he replies, his voice quiet. “just... it’s nothing. just wanted to check on you.”

you smile softly. “you do that a lot.”

he shrugs. “it’s my job, right?”

and even though he says that, you can see the hint of something more. something deeper.

you’re not sure what it is, but you feel it.

you smile to yourself, wondering if maybe you’re starting to understand him a little better.

when you get to your front door, you wave goodbye, but this time, he doesn’t leave immediately.

he lingers.

“goodnight, spider-man,” you say quietly.

“goodnight.”

he’s gone before you can blink.

and you can’t help but feel like there’s something he’s not saying. something important.

—

you’re at school, sitting with shinyu during lunch, lazily picking at your food as the two of you chat about the usual, homework, annoying teachers, and how much you’d rather be anywhere else.

and then, somehow, the conversation lands on him.

"so, spider-man," shinyu says, taking a sip of his drink. "you never really told me. what’s the deal with that?"

you blink, caught off guard. "what do you mean?"

shinyu shrugs. "i mean, you guys talk a lot. what’s he like?"

you pause, considering it. "well... he’s nice. kind of awkward, but in a cute way. and, i don’t know, i feel like i can actually talk to him, you know?"

shinyu raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "so you like talking to him."

"obviously," you say, rolling your eyes. "he’s funny, easy to be around, and—"

you pause for half a second.

shinyu waits.

"... and?"

you shrug, acting like what you’re about to say is no big deal. "and he’s kinda hot."

it happens instantly.

a loud choking sound from the table next to you.

you both turn your heads.

jake sim, golden boy of the school, is currently dying.

he’s hunched over, violently coughing, his drink abandoned as he tries to catch his breath. his friends, some of the other popular kids, are just watching him, either concerned or mildly entertained.

"bro, what is wrong with you?" one of them asks, patting jake on the back.

jake wheezes.

you stare at him, blinking. "... you good?"

he looks up at you, eyes wide, mouth slightly open like he just realized he made a scene.

"uh—yeah! yes! i’m fine!" he blurts out, too loudly.

you and shinyu exchange a look.

"uh-huh," you say, unconvinced.

jake quickly grabs his drink again, pretending like nothing happened, but you can see it, how his ears are red, how he’s suddenly so focused on stirring his drink with his straw like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

weird.

shinyu, being shinyu, decides to push it.

"wait, you were listening to us?" he says, grinning.

"no!" jake says, way too fast. "i wasn’t listening! i just— i mean— i heard something, but it wasn’t on purpose—"

he stops himself, as if realizing he’s making it worse.

you stare at him, trying to figure out what his deal is.

jake sim is, objectively, very attractive. everyone at school knows it. he’s the kind of guy who could probably get away with murder just by looking at someone the right way.

but right now?

right now, he looks like a glitching NPC.

shinyu smirks. "so, which part made you choke? the part where spider-man is easy to talk to, or the part where he’s hot?"

jake makes a strangled sound, like he just swallowed his soul.

"i—" he starts, then stops, looking deeply uncomfortable.

you narrow your eyes at him.

"wait," you say suddenly, realization hitting. "do you know spider-man?"

jake freezes.

his eyes dart around the table, as if searching for an escape route.

"i—uh—no?" he tries, but it sounds more like a question than an answer.

"that was very convincing," you deadpan.

"thank you," he says automatically. then, realizing what he just did, he groans and drags a hand down his face.

you just stare at him.

what is up with this guy?

shinyu snickers. "dude, you’re acting real suspicious right now."

"i am not," jake says, still looking very much suspicious.

you and shinyu both just keep staring at him.

jake, unable to handle the attention, suddenly stands up. "gotta go!" he announces, grabbing his tray and practically sprinting away from the table.

... what.

you blink. "okay, what was that?"

shinyu just laughs. "no clue, but that was hilarious."

you shake your head, still baffled.

jake sim is weird.

—

that night, like clockwork, spider-man appears.

you’re outside, walking back from the convenience store, a bag of snacks in your hand when you hear the familiar thwip of a web.

you don’t even flinch anymore.

“oh, hey,” you say as he lands beside you. "you’re early tonight."

spider-man, who seems slightly fidgety for some reason, clears his throat. "uh, yeah. just happened to be around."

you nod. "right. as always."

there’s a beat of silence as the two of you start walking.

then, spider-man casually goes, "sooo... you think i’m hot?"

you freeze mid-step.

"what—"

he panics immediately. "i mean—! not that i heard you say that or anything, but like— well, let’s say hypothetically you did say that, and hypothetically i overheard—"

you narrow your eyes. "did you overhear?"

he hesitates for a full second before blurting, "no!"

"uh-huh."

he coughs. "but if you did think that— i mean, just out of curiosity, uh... what part exactly were you talking about?"

you stare at him.

he shifts, looking way too eager but also like he might die on the spot.

you decide to mess with him.

"i dunno," you say, pretending to think. "maybe the mask? keeps things mysterious."

"mysterious," he echoes.

"or maybe the whole... ‘hero of the city’ thing," you continue. "kind of hard not to find that attractive."

"oh," he says weakly.

you glance at him.

his shoulders are tense. he’s definitely blushing. even through the mask, you can tell.

you bite back a grin. "why do you ask, spider-man? you interested in what i think?"

"wh—no! i mean— i guess? maybe? i just—" he stops mid-sentence, suddenly frustrated with himself.

you laugh. "wow. you get flustered really easily."

"i do not," he lies.

you grin.

he’s so bad at this.

but... it’s kind of cute.

he clears his throat, clearly desperate to change the subject. "so! um! anyway! totally unrelated question—"

"uh-huh?"

"—but, like... have you ever thought that maybe you already know me?"

you blink. "what?"

he shrugs, trying to sound casual. "i mean, like, what if i wasn’t just spider-man? what if i was, i dunno... someone you see every day?"

you frown, confused.

"... but you’re not," you say simply. "i’d recognize your voice."

spider-man pauses.

"oh," he says.

like he just remembered that’s a thing.

you keep walking, completely missing the way his entire body slumps.

"why?" you ask, glancing at him. "are you secretly my math teacher or something?"

he lets out a weird, awkward laugh. "pfft. no! definitely not. that’d be, um. weird."

you snort. "right... mr. lee..?"

spider-man sighs, clearly realizing this isn’t going anywhere. "never mind," he mutters.

you just shrug. "okay. anyway, are we getting snacks or what?"

he perks up instantly. "yes! let’s do that."

he’s back to normal.

but inside, jake sim is screaming.

when you get home, you fall onto your bed, thinking about the conversation you just had.

weird.

he was acting weird.

but it’s probably nothing.

meanwhile, somewhere across the city, jake is lying face down on his bed, aggressively kicking his feet like a teenage girl in a romcom, absolutely mortified.

his friends are still roasting him for what happened at lunch.

he’s never going to live this down.

—

rooftops are underrated.

shinyu agrees.

“this is the best place to complain about life,” he says, stretching out on the rooftop ledge. “no teachers, no school stress, just the city and the stars.”

“and potential death if you slip,” you point out.

“adds to the thrill.”

you laugh, taking a deep breath as the cool night air brushes against your skin. it’s peaceful up here, the hum of the city below feeling distant, almost like background noise.

this is your favorite part of the night, escaping the weight of the day, letting yourself exist without expectations.

shinyu, lounging beside you, throws a crumpled snack wrapper at you. “so. be honest. do you think mr. lee is actually grading our essays or just randomly handing out scores?”

“random,” you say immediately. “there’s no way he read mine. i wrote a whole paragraph about how pigeons should have jobs and still got an A.”

shinyu nearly chokes on his drink. “what?”

“i was sleep-deprived, okay?”

“bro.”

you grin, nudging his shoulder. shinyu’s dramatic laughter echoes in the open air, and for a second, it feels like nothing else matters.

but then—

thwip.

a familiar sound.

you don’t even flinch.

shinyu, however, does. “bro,” he says, staring at the figure that just landed on the rooftop. “your weird little superhero friend is here again.”

spider-man straightens up. “hey,” he says, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie over his suit.

“oh, great,” shinyu mutters. “now i have to third-wheel whatever this weird thing is.”

you roll your eyes. “it’s not weird.”

spider-man, beside you, shifts. “wait. what’s not weird?”

shinyu smirks. “you and them.”

spider-man nearly trips over his own feet. “what?”

you laugh. “ignore him, he’s just being annoying.”

“i’m just saying,” shinyu teases, standing up and stretching, “i feel like a chaperone. anyway, i’m heading home before mr. lee assigns another test. try not to die.”

you wave him off, watching as he climbs down the fire escape.

the second he’s gone, spider-man sighs dramatically. “your friend is kind of scary.”

“he’d love to hear that.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “so. you just hang out on rooftops for fun?”

“why not?” you shrug. “it’s peaceful. no school, no responsibilities, no—”

you shift slightly on the ledge—

and your foot slips.

for a split second, your stomach drops.

but before you can even process it—

strong hands grab your waist, pulling you back to safety.

your breath catches.

you don’t even have time to think before you’re pressed against him, his hands still firmly holding you, your faces way too close.

your brain short-circuits.

spider-man tenses.

his mask hides his expression, but you can feel the shift, the sudden awareness of just how close you are.

your hands are gripping his arms, his hands are still on your waist, and for a moment, neither of you move.

the air is thick.

his breathing is a little uneven.

he’s calm on the outside, but inside?

jake sim is losing his mind.

because oh my god.

he is touching you.

holding you.

you’re close enough that he can see every little detail, the way your lips part slightly in surprise, the way your eyes flicker down for a second before meeting his again.

he’s panicking.

but he cannot show it.

so he clears his throat, trying to sound casual. “you, uh. good?”

you blink, snapping out of it.

“oh. yeah. thanks for—” you gesture vaguely, still hyper-aware of his hands.

spider-man nods, though his brain is still buffering.

he should move.

but his hands don’t move.

why aren’t they moving?

he’s gripping your waist like you’re going to fall again, like he has to keep holding on, and it takes everything in him to not scream.

you tilt your head.

“... you okay?”

"me? oh! yeah! totally fine! absolutely not freaking out or anything!”

you squint at him.

"... you sure?"

"yep! totally! one hundred percent normal behavior happening right now!"

he still hasn’t let go.

you raise an eyebrow.

he realizes he still hasn’t let go.

"oh! right! my bad!"

he snatches his hands away like he just touched fire, stumbling back a step.

you blink at him.

he looks like he just had an out-of-body experience.

"... you’re acting weird," you say.

"no, i’m not!" he says, voice cracking.

you stare at him for another second before shrugging. "okay."

you sit back down like nothing happened.

spider-man stands there, physically trying to reboot.

—

the next day at school, jake sim is a mess.

he is so weird about it.

you don’t even notice at first, too busy going about your day, but then, little things start adding up.

like how he keeps running into walls.

or how he drops his books every time you walk by.

or how, when you pass him in the hallway, he does a 180-degree spin and walks the other direction like he just forgot where he was going.

it’s like he has no motor skills around you.

and the worst part?

everyone notices.

"bro, what is your deal?" one of his friends asks after jake nearly trips over thin air.

jake just groans, aggressively rubbing his face. "i don’t wanna talk about it."

his friends exchange a look.

"you’ve been acting weird since yesterday," one of them says. "what happened?"

"nothing!"

"are you sure?"

"yes!" jake says, too fast. "i’m totally fine! absolutely normal! definitely not thinking about anything that happened on a rooftop last night!"

his friends blink.

"... what?"

jake.exe has stopped working.

"i gotta go," he says, shoving his books into his bag and sprinting away before they can ask any more questions.

meanwhile, you, completely oblivious to his entire breakdown, sit down with shinyu at lunch, happily eating your food.

"hey," shinyu says, nudging you. "you notice how jake’s been acting extra weird today?"

you pause mid-bite. "huh?"

"he keeps running into things. i think you broke him."

"... what did i do?"

shinyu shrugs. "no clue. but it’s hilarious."

you glance across the cafeteria.

jake is at his table, looking stressed.

you don’t think much of it.

meanwhile, jake is sitting there, gripping his drink, replaying last night’s moment in his head like a broken record, absolutely suffering.

there’s something weird about jake sim.

not in an obvious way, he’s still the school’s golden boy, still effortlessly good-looking, still surrounded by people who seem drawn to him like he has his own gravitational pull.

but ever since you started talking to spider-man, something feels... off.

and the more you think about it, the more you realize...

jake and spider-man are kind of similar.

not in every way, obviously.

spider-man is cool in a nerdy, awkward way. jake is just awkward.

spider-man is confident until he’s flustered. jake is flustered until he’s more flustered.

but there are little things. things that stick in your mind and refuse to leave.

the way they both stutter when they’re flustered.

the way they both react too strongly when you mention something embarrassing.

the way spider-man somehow always reacts to things you say about jake sim a little too specifically.

you wouldn’t normally care.

except now you do so you decide to test him.

the opportunity presents itself in the middle of lunch.

shinyu is ranting about his math teacher, and you’re half-listening, half-watching as jake sits at his usual table across the cafeteria.

he looks tired.

his friends are talking, but he’s zoned out, poking at his food with a fork like it personally offended him.

for once, no one is paying attention to him.

so you turn to shinyu and casually say,

"hey. you ever think jake sim is kinda... spider-man-y?"

shinyu blinks. "what."

you shrug. "just saying. they kinda act the same sometimes."

"what kind of reach—"

you don’t get to respond.

because across the cafeteria, jake, mid-bite into his sandwich, freezes.

like, completely.

his jaw locks, his eyes widen slightly, and for a second, he just sits there, bread still between his teeth, looking like he’s buffering.

it’s only when one of his friends elbows him that he starts moving again, slowly, mechanically, chewing like he suddenly forgot how food works.

you watch this unfold with mild amusement.

shinyu squints. "okay, that was weird."

"right?"

you decide to take it further.

"also, if you really think about it, their voices are kind of similar," you add, casually sipping your drink.

jake, still trying to recover from his sandwich malfunction, visibly flinches.

his friend frowns. "dude, are you good?"

"mhm!" jake squeaks, before quickly stuffing more food into his mouth to avoid talking.

his ears are so red.

shinyu glances between you and him. "...did you just break jake sim?"

"interesting," you say, watching as jake forces himself to act normal, failing spectacularly.

very suspicious.

—

that night, spider-man shows up like always.

you’re sitting on your usual rooftop spot, legs dangling over the edge.

he lands beside you, slightly out of breath.

you tilt your head. “you good?”

"yep!" he says. "totally! just... busy day."

you hum.

"...sooo," you start, watching him closely, "something really funny happened today."

spider-man tenses. "oh? uh. what?"

you grin. "i was talking to shinyu about how jake sim kinda reminds me of you."

he flinches.

"oh?"

"yeah," you say, leaning in slightly. "you both get flustered really easily."

"what? no, i don’t!"

you raise an eyebrow. "you’re literally flustered right now."

"no, i’m not!"

you squint.

he shifts uncomfortably.

"also," you continue, "you have the same little mannerisms sometimes. like how you rub the back of your neck when you’re nervous."

his hand immediately drops from the back of his neck.

you stare.

he stares back.

"...okay, that was suspicious."

"what was?"

"that!"

"what?"

"you just—" you gesture vaguely. "you’re acting weird."

"i’m always weird!"

"true," you admit.

he sighs in relief.

but you’re not done.

"also, your voice kinda sounds like his."

"what?!"

"just a little," you say, watching him panic. "not enough for most people to notice, but still."

"n-no it doesn’t!"

"you sure?"

"positive!"

you hum.

"you definitely don’t have anything you wanna tell me?"

"nope! nothing at all! absolutely nothing weird happening here!*"

you squint.

he is sweating.

interesting.

—

jake sim has fought criminals, dodged gunfire, and swung through the city at terrifying speeds—

but this is the most nerve-wracking thing he’s ever done.

because tonight, he’s going to tell you.

he’s going to take off the mask, look you in the eye, and say it, 'i’m spider-man. i’m also jake sim. and i like you. a lot.'

he’s been rehearsing it in his head for days.

except now that he’s actually standing on the rooftop where you usually meet, waiting for you, his brain is short-circuiting.

what if you get mad? what if you feel betrayed? what if you never want to talk to him again?

he groans into his hands. this was a terrible idea.

but he can’t back out now.

not when he hears footsteps coming up the fire escape.

his heart nearly leaps out of his chest.

okay, okay. just act normal. wait, no—don't act normal, you’re always awkward. act... slightly less awkward. you can do this. you got this.

he takes a deep breath.

the door creaks open.

he turns around, already preparing himself—

and then immediately panics because—

oh god. that’s not you. that’s shinyu.

shinyu blinks. “oh.”

jake freezes.

shinyu squints. “what are you doing here?”

"nothing!" spider-man blurts out. "just—y’know. being spider-man. normal superhero things. ha ha."

shinyu looks so unimpressed. "right."

jake is internally screaming. where are you?? why is shinyu here instead?? he was so ready.

shinyu leans against the rooftop railing, arms crossed. "so. waiting for someone?"

spider-man stiffens. "uh—no! no, just... hanging out."

shinyu hums.

spider-man shifts uncomfortably.

there's a beat of silence before shinyu smirks. "you’re totally waiting for y/n, aren’t you?"

spider-man chokes on air.

"what?!"

shinyu laughs. "dude, relax. you guys seem close, that’s all."

spider-man doesn’t know what to say.

shinyu keeps going, teasing. "you like them or something?"

spider-man malfunctions.

because the answer is yes, so much yes, oh my god yes, but he cannot say that.

so he just stands there, absolutely flustered, failing to form a single coherent word.

shinyu raises an eyebrow. "wait. do you like them?"

"WHAT? NO. HAHAHA. HA." spider-man's voice cracks.

shinyu stares.

spider-man stares back.

the silence is deafening.

then shinyu grins.

"oh my god, you totally do."

spider-man groans and buries his face in his hands. this is a disaster.

shinyu laughs. "don’t worry, i won’t tell."

"thank you," spider-man mutters, still dying inside.

shinyu pats his shoulder. "good luck, loverboy."

and with that, he leaves, completely unaware that he just ruined the big reveal.

spider-man sighs so hard.

he’s going to scream into his pillow when he gets home.

—

jake sim has been so, so careful.

for months, he’s balanced both sides of his life perfectly, being the popular golden boy at school while keeping his very obvious crush on you a secret, and being the confident, quick-witted spider-man who gets to talk to you without turning into a human error message.

but all of that completely shatters in a matter of seconds.

and it’s entirely his fault.

it’s late, and you’re heading home from another study session with shinyu.

your backpack is slung lazily over one shoulder, and you’re lost in thought when suddenly—

"HEY!"

a voice yells from the alley beside you, and before you can react, a blur of red and blue drops down from above.

spider-man.

except something is off.

because he’s standing in front of you... maskless.

his wavy hair is messy, his expression is panicked, and his wide brown eyes lock onto yours in sheer horror.

… jake sim.

"JAKE?" you yelp.

"OH MY GOD." jake grabs his head like he just realized he left the stove on. "OH MY GOD, I FORGOT MY MASK. I—I THOUGHT I PUT IT ON BUT I DIDN’T. I JUST SWUNG DOWN WITHOUT IT—OH, THIS IS SO BAD—"

he starts pacing in frantic circles, muttering a meltdown under his breath. "stupid, stupid, stupid—how do you forget your MASK? how did i even think this was a good idea? i should just move to another country—"

you’re just standing there, staring at him, processing.

spider-man is jake sim.

jake sim is spider-man.

it all clicks.

the awkwardness. the stammering. the similarities you swore you noticed but ignored.

you slap a hand over your mouth, because instead of being shocked, instead of yelling or freaking out—

you start laughing.

"you’re kidding." you wheeze. "you’re actually kidding."

jake stops spiraling and looks at you like you just started speaking another language. "wait. why are you laughing?"

you’re losing it. "because this makes so much sense now. oh my god. jake."

he goes so red. "don’t say my name like that while i’m wearing the suit, that feels illegal."

but you can’t stop laughing. "i can’t believe i didn’t put this together sooner. you—oh my god, you were literally short-circuiting in front of me at school while having full-on conversations with me as spider-man."

"please," jake begs. "please let me live."

you wipe a tear from your eye, catching your breath. "wait—hold on—" you inhale, trying to compose yourself. "so… does that mean… you had a crush on me this whole time?"

jake freezes.

his entire body locks up like you just hit him with a paralyzing spell.

you raise an eyebrow. "jake."

he doesn’t move.

he doesn’t breathe.

"jake," you say again. "do you—"

"OKAY—" he blurts out, exploding into motion. "yes! yes. i like you. a lot. i have for a really long time. and i know this is probably the worst way for you to find out but—"

you take a step closer.

he shuts up immediately.

he’s still rambling in his head, though, oh my god, they’re looking at me, they’re getting closer, what does this mean, am i going to die—

and then—

you kiss him.

it’s soft, quick, and so unexpected that it completely short-circuits him.

his brain blue-screens.

by the time you pull away, his soul has left his body.

"you just—" he breathes, voice barely above a whisper.

you grin. "you like me."

"YOU JUST KISSED ME."

"yeah." you tilt your head. "you gonna do something about it, spider-man?"

jake.exe has stopped working.

he just stands there, mouth opening and closing, until finally—

he just groans into his hands. "oh my god, i am so in love with you."

~

ty for reading and enjoying !

enha taglist : @minoouz

perm taglist : @s0shroe @minoouz

[lilacgaby]

‧₊˚ what are we?

...nothing. right?.₊˚⊹

convienence. a means to end. that's all this was for both of you right? when katsuki is fed up with the crazed fangirls who just won't leave him alone, he works out a deal with you. it was just coincidence he had a huge crush on you.

☆pair. 2ndyear!katsuki x reader. tags. fake dating!trope, fluff, reader is academically flopping for a bit, pet names, cursing, fighting (verbal), happy ending wc. 6k

ღnote. sorry that this took so long lol! i wrote this in chapter form if you'd like to read it here, but this one shot is the same thing.

post-war brought troubles for a lot of the students in class 1-A. especially bakugo katsuki.

he had to completely relearn how to write with his other hand, had to learn how to fight without injury to it.

and he had to learn to deal with his crazy amount of fangirls.

his fight had been broadcasted, the manner in which he pushed himself to the very brink broadcasted to the world. his victory brought spoils, though not in a way he expected.

he didn't expect to be chased down the hallways every morning, to have a line of girls wanting his autograph as he ate. he didn't expect to be gifted things, things they just assumed he liked, but couldn't be farther from the truth.

luckily, you seemed to like chocolate. he found refuge these days sitting on the roof floor of U-A next to you during lunch, passing you the chocolate gifts he'd been given.

he hated chocolate. but to be honest, he loved seeing you smile.

"thanks 'suki." you said for the nth time, picking the best chocolates out of the box and leaving the gross ones alone.

"yeah." he sighed, glancing at you occasionally as he moved to support the weight of his head with his hands. he found himself speechless around you often. words failing as he leant into the comfort of your presence.

you were about to say something, he thinks. your mouth was open though the blaring of the bell cut you off. "oh, let's go 'suki." you said, holding your hand out to him.

he took it, letting you pull him up and holding onto your hand for just a second too long. you dumped the rest of the chocolates in a trash can and made your collective way down to 1-A. you laughed at how he seemed to try and hide behind you, eyes darting around for the general course girls who seemed to have nothing better to do than follow him around.

they didn't come though. he saw a group of them but when they saw your proximity to him..

they left him alone.

a lightbulb went off in his head, he mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. as he sat in class, eyeing your seat between momo and jirou, he thought about how he'd ask you.

test papers were being passed out, graded ones. "yo man," kirishima started, looking over his paper, "what'd you get?"

katsuki scoffed. "what do you think? another 100, easy as shit."

kaminari groaned beside him, "you're cheating or something! i got an 80."

"that's high for someone like you!"

"hey!"

"aw man, i got a 70. you're so manly bakubro!"

"yeah, guess i am."

katsuki tried to resist the turning of his head, he really did. but he wanted to know what score you got, if you did well. though from the expression on your face and the way momo patted you on the back,

not to mention the red ink used all over your paper. he knew you didn't.

"man this totally sucks!" you exclaimed, your hands clutching the paper of your test. "i studied and everything, i don't even need math, im a hero for crying out loud!"

jirou's teases and momo's comforts faded into the background as he only focused on you, and the nagging feeling for him to help you.

with another ring of the bell and a sigh from mr. aizawa, katsuki left early to try and beat the crowd of girls who seemed to pounce on him.

he didn't though, he found himself at the entrance at U-A, almost to freedom when the crowd pointed at him, "that's him! i can't believe it!"

"dynamite, an autograph please?"

"hey- don't be so casual. it's lord explosion--"

"who cares? i want a photo!"

at that, they chased him. all his progress down the stairs and through the halls was gone as he was led right back down to class 1-A. he stupidly lead himself right back into a corner.

his head darted around, until he noticed a tuft of familiar hair in the classroom. you hadn't left? oh well, he needed your help and quick.

you were sobbing internally, looking over your horrific test score with a sad expression. a 70? you might as well just drop out now.

as the hours of studying you'd done for waste passed over in your mind, a noise caught you off guard.

he had burst in, making your deflated form jump off the desk. "katsuki, don't scare me like that!"

he rushed over to your side, grabbing your hand off where it was hanging limply on the desk. "be my girlfriend for a second."

the words barely even processed in your brain before you were being manhandled off the desk, your mind rushed to catch up. "wait-- wha-"

before you knew it you were led towards the door of obsessed fan girls. his hand was intertwined tightly with yours, a slight flush on his face.

"listen up." he started, making his fans shush eachother. "my girlfriend hasn't been appreciating all your bullshit. and neither have i, so for the love of god stop it already."

he pulled you alongside him, "move." a path opened for the two of you, letting you two through. he walked you to the entrance, no words spoken between the two of you until you stopped infront of the lockers where you'd keep your shoes.

"[name]-- uh." he took a breath, his heart sped up rapidly around you. it sped up at the simple tilt of your head.

"so. if you help me with this shit, i'll tutor you.

or whatever."

a hand was behind his head, his averted eyes now focusing on you as he awaited your answer with baited breath.

you had an expression of thoughtfulness on your face. your finger on your chin as you looked up to the ceiling to think.

'have everyone think youre dating a cute boy and get a tutor?'

the pinkie of your hand shot out, a closed eye smile on your face. "i'm in!"

a soft smile graced his lips, his pinkie intertwining with yours and sealing his fate in more ways than one.

because you really did have him wrapped around your finger. literally and figuratively.

"let's go to my room so we can talk over it!"

you really were going to be the death of him.

it's not like he'd never been to your room, just not in a situation like this.

not when he'd declared himself your boyfriend an hour earlier, not when his hands were sweaty with his nervousness, and not when you'd agreed so hastily to be his.

he wondered if you'd accept if anyone else asked you. if izuku or todoroki had been facing this situation instead of him.

"'suki?" you patted the side of your bed next to you, "sit with me."

he sighed, the thoughts disappearing from his mind at your words. he really was whipped for you.

"yeah, yeah. i'm goin'" he sat beside you, oddly stiffer than normal. he held his own hands as he waited for you to say something.

"okay, so, we should have like-- a plan or something right?"

"a plan? what the fuck for?"

"like so we don't get caught faking this or whatever. if they find out your fans will just come back running, no?"

he shuddered at the thought. "yeah, don't wanna deal with that shit."

"right? so the first part of our plan, is that everyone has to think we're dating. cool?"

katsuki's mind was racing. cool? more like the best thing that would happen to him. he felt as if everyone knew of his crush on you.. except for you.

being to say he was all yours and that you were all his, even if it was a lie..

"yeah, it's cool."

"great, that's really the only thing we had to establish. we hang out a lot anyways so, we'll just have to be affectionate or something to seal the deal."

his heart jumped at the idea of hugging you, wrapping an arm around you, holding hands with you in public. the ghost of a smile came over him.

"right."

"cool. so nothing else matter--"

"we're starting your studying shit tomorrow. the next test is next week, so we don't have time to play around [name]."

"ughh. i wish you forgot about that." your head fell into your hands. "i hate math, what do i even need it for?"

"advanced math, nothing really. but estimates are important in hero work. estimating time, the abilities of your body, the amount of civilians, all that stuff."

"you're such a nerd."

"hah?"

he continued explaining the importance of math to you despite your grievances. his finger was pointed in the air, you swore you could see the need emoji popping over his face.

your eyes closed, the weight of the day, your grade, and the thought of studying alongside a nerd like katsuki tiring you to no avail. you yawned, laying your head on his shoulder.

you could hear the thumping of his heart, the racing of his blood in his veins. it rocked you to sleep, "wake me up later, m' a take a nap." you mumbled against his shoulder, before falling asleep.

his mouth shut, eyes peeled on your body that now clung to his side. his face grew hot, when did it get so hot in your damn room?

he tried his best to stay awake, to let you nap and wake you up in the morning. but as the clock hit eight o clock, the time he was supposed to head back to his dorm.. he found himself stuck in place.

not by an invisible force, not by some obligation. it was only the thought of wanting to be with you, next to you. wanting to let the comfort of your weight next to him drive himself to sleep.

so he did. he fell asleep, letting his head lay on top of yours, holding your body closer to his. shutting his eyes.

the light of the sun woke him up first, you didn't close your blinds yesterday, and the sun shined brightly,

directly into his face. he groaned, his voice deep from sleep as he peeled himself off of you. he was confused from fatigue, wondering why he was still in your room.

he felt an arm around his waist, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to see it was you who was holding him close. he thinks you were using him in place of your huge teddy bear, the one laid neatly in the corner of your bed.

his heart rate quickened once again, wanting to go back to his room, but fighting the urge to stay looking at you.

an absentminded hand moved a couple strands of your hair out your face, pinching your cheek when he got bold.

you don't wake up, he sighed a breath of relief. 'til he felt your body start to stir, you pushed your head more into his chest, your eyes finally starting to open slightly.

"oh? g'morning kat'." you were sleepy, your words slightly slurred and muffled from how you were pressed against him.

"you slept here?" you asked, pulling away from him as you moved to stretch your upper body.

"uh-- yeah." he was once again lost for words at the sight of you, your shirt slightly pulled up from how you'd slept, your hair messy from the lack of a protective style before sleep.

"sorry for waking you up then, 'suki."

"no, i was already up. i just didn't wanna wake you."

"well, you failed." you joked. "anyways, you should get out of here soon, if iida sees you he'll probably flip out and tell mr. aizawa."

"right."

"let's walk to class together!" you clasped his hands in yours. "okay?"

you were going to be the death of him once again. "okay."

you let go and he got up, ruffling his hair slightly and looking back at you who sent him a small smirk and wave. before slowly walking out your door. he did his best to keep his movements quiet and minimal.

he was at the elevator, before uraraka walked out. shit. "bakugo? what are you doing here?"

"uh.. got lost."

her face scrunched in confusion, a knowing smile on her face after a second. "right.. tell [name] good morning for me."

".. tell her yourself." he got into the elevator, already seeing the grin in uraraka's face as he went up a floor to his room.

the same grin everyone greeted him with as he went to sit next to you in the common room, having made you some breakfast. he and you were all ready, you had refreshed your hair from when he was playing with it, simple makeup and your uniform ironed. he admired you while he ate his meal.

"ah, thanks 'suki."

"mhm."

you moved to whisper in his ear, "why's everyone looking at us?"

"fuck if i know."

"so you two lovebirds aren't gonna say anything?" denki said, putting his hands on his hips as he looked you two over.

"'bout what?"

"that you two are totally dating!" mina exclaimed, pointing at you. "and you didn't say anything? wow [name], i thought.. we were closer than that." she mock fully cried.

katsuki was about to say something, you cut him off though. "i thought everyone knew?" with a tilt of your head, a question mark almost visible from the blank expression you wore.

the class only sighed, kirishima shrugged his shoulders. "yeah, we should've guessed. i mean bakugo had a obvious crush on you for the longest."

"yeah, good looks man." sero gave him a thumbs up.

"tch. let's go [name]." he sat up, placing his and your finished dishes in the sink before you followed behind him.

"right! bye guys!"

you grabbed his hand as you walked out the door. nobody was around, there was no need to keep up appearances now.

but that didn't stop him from holding your hand tighter.

and that didn't stop you from clinging even more to his side.

it seemed you two were now together all the time. a clingy couple is what you seemed like to your friends, and more importantly his fans.

at lunch he could now be in the cafeteria again, you were stuck his side as you ate, an arm around you as you shared his food, insisting his cooking was better than the U-A food.

you were caged in by his body, you really did just look like a sappy couple to everyone.

during class, he was caught glancing at you. a lot. he'd roll his eyes and pretend nothing even happened, but everyone knew he was far gone.

during training, as you sparred you noticed he was going harder on you than before. some would think that because you were his crush he wouldn't get so aggressive,

too bad katsuki only wanted to push you harder, get you to show the strength he saw you unleash on those villains in the war. he wanted you to be stronger beside him, if he was number one, he'd want you to be ranked closely to him, because he knew you were strong enough.

that didn't mean it wasn't any more hard to fight him, the man was a maniac.

"you can chill out you know!"

"what? can't take it?!"

"no, slow your fucking roll!" you barely dodged his other attack, just barely moving out the way as he threw an explosion in your direction.

you now had met the conditions to use your quirk, comeback. by generating a max of 8 orbs, they'd absorb energy that you could use back for your offense. the only downside?

melee attacks couldn't be absorbed at all.

a kick to your legs sent you to the ground, you dispersed one of your orbs with the explosion stored inside of it.

"be nice and let me win!!"

"no."

he dodged your attack and pinned you to the ground. he won.

"you're so mean 'suki." you shoved him off you, making him grunt. "a good boyfriend would've let me win!"

a nagging voice in the back of his head was telling him he wasn't yours, you weren't his, and that he was only doing this for his convinience.

"well, i guess i'll be a better one next time."

even that voice couldn't deny that the way he cared for you wasn't anything less than real. that even if this relationship was fake, that he was undoubtedly yours. that the way he held his hand out to you, lifting you as gently as he could fathom.

"wanna go again?" he asked, a boyish smirk on his face.

"you know it!"

your plan of tiring katsuki out with exercise didn't work, so you found yourself in his room at his desk. showered and wiping the dew off your neck with a towel, you sat in front of him with a book splayed open.

he was hammering topic after topic into you.. statistics or something? you weren't really paying attention, you were more interested in the bulge of his muscles out of his tank top.

his words were a blur when you suddenly found yourself reaching a hand out to feel his muscle,

your hand squeezing it.

'firm. hm.' you thought, until he pulled you away, an incredulous look on his face. "this is why your class ranking keeps falling [name]. focus!"

"how can i focus with you in front of me? it's like dancing a donut in front of a cop!" you whined, face planted onto his desk.

"you're.. insane."

"you love me though, don't you?" the words slipped out of your lips without a second thought, your face flushing slightly. "oops, sorry! almost forgot you arent my like-- real boyfriend!"

he swore he heard a bit of disappointment in your voice, felt a bit of reluctance in your movements as you pulled away at him, saw a bit of longing in your eyes.

"uh.. yeah. 's fine. let's just.. take a break." he said, motioning over to lay on his bed and do nothing for a little while.

if you would've told him a couple months ago that he'd be sat, face to face, body next to body, hands awkwardly close to each other as you remained in silence. you'd had a movie on in the background, something stupid he thought. not like he payed attention to it at all.

it was comfortable, being around you. he'd be a liar if he said that he didn't like the fact that everyone now thought you were his and vice versa. not just his fans, not just yours, but your mutual friends. family.

"do you wanna try again?" he asked after a while, voice soft and his hand moving to rub his eyes. it was his bedtime, eight o clock sharp, but he'd break it for you.

"hm? to be honest no." you moved to face him. "you look tired anyways 'suki, you should sleep."

he grumbled, his eyes closing slightly as he slowly swatted your hand away from his face, his grip lingering on your wrist.

"right." he yawned. he didn't know if it was the sleep or impulse, maybe a mixture of both. but he pulled you closer to him. making you crash against his chest with his head in the nook of your neck.

"stay." he uttered, his breath flush against your neck making the hairs stand up.

"katsuki?" you thought you were dreaming. you'd move to pinch yourself if you weren't being pinned down by him.

"please?"

"..okay." your words barely matched your actions. you cuddled more into him, pulling him impossibly closer as you melted into eachother.

a blanket was thrown over the two of you. you fell asleep in his arms, the beating of his heart matching yours as you breathed a sigh of realization.

you were horribly in love with katsuki bakugo. and he was with you.

your 'fake' activities as a couple were coming along a little bit too easily to the two of you.

feeding him a snack in his room as a joke, him finding out he kind of liked being babied, him blackmailing you so you shut up.

all couple things. normal couple activity.

you didn't even have to continue those things behind closed doors, but it just came so naturally. it seemed wrong not to do it.

it seemed wrong for him not to sling a hand over you, not to hold your hand when it was so close to him, not to move the stray strands of hair and tuck it behind your ear.

it seemed wrong for him not to save a spot for you at lunch, not to wake up a bit earlier and slip out of your sleepy grasp to prepare you a meal alongside his.

not to make some breakfast for you, light or heavy, depending on what he'd learned you preferred.

not to walk with you to class, even walking with you to go see your general studies friend in the morning, leaning against the doorway with a smile on his face as he watched you rave on about a show you'd watched recently.

why wouldn't he do it if he could? why shouldn't he watch your favorite shows just to have things to talk to you about?

he found himself fighting to stay focused during your study sessions now too. he found himself noticing things about you, the smaller things.

how you'd flip your hello kitty pencil around while you were speaking. how you'd bite your lips in concentration, your expressions of disbelief when you actually started getting things correct.

he'd have to cover his hand with his face. you were just too cute.

sometimes he'd even get distracted mid sentence. he was explaining simple things over again, just to make sure you knew what it meant.

but it was hard even keeping eye contact with you.

"so, in this problem x would be.. uh.." he went silent, his mouth open but no words escaping.

"x would be what? 7?" you showed your page of work to him, with a nervous smile. "if it's not right tell me already! i know im kinda dumb, it won't hurt my feelings too bad i swear!"

he looked down back at his page. mentally slamming his head onto the table, before recovering. "yeah, no you're right. you got it."

you slammed the work onto his desk, "finally! then we can break now right?"

"yeah, 'guess so."

"let's do something fun. take a walk, my legs hurt from sitting." you pulled him up by his hand, dragging him to his door. "hurry up!"

he couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him, you really reminded him of just how young you two were. how he was just a high schooler with a huge crush, how--

"why are you looking at me like that? are you sick?" you placed a hand on his forehead, making him promptly rip it off. a scowl quickly replaced the smile that been on his face moments prior. "no i'm not. let's go."

you walked hand in hand, the sunset the background for your 'date'.

the last few days, he'd been nervous to bring up what was happening between you. he was nervous to ruin the odd relationship you two had, he didn't want to lose you. he thought the things you two had been doing crossed the line between friendship and lovers.

you didn't have to do any of this. though he was sure you knew that already.

"math exam's tomorrow."

"don't remind me! you totally ruined the moment you know."

"you'll pass. i mean, i was your tutor after all. if you fail with me as a teacher? you are a lost cause."

"that's not nice to say." you ripped his hand away from yours, crossing your arms on your chest. "thats really messed up 'suki."

he leant down to face you, the sun goldening you two in its wake as he grew a cocky smirk on his lips. "oh really?"

"yes really."

"n' what're you gonna do about it?" his face was barely an inch away from yours. with a glance to his lips, he moved closer.

he barely pecked you, before he heard a loud, obnoxious idiot speak from behind him.

"[name] and bakugo are totally making out over here!"

denki and kirishima were looking at the two of you, a glare crossed over katsuki's face as he basically dragged you with him back into his dorm. he was about to leave you at your dorm, the hallway empty since curfew was around the corner.

he held your hands in his, running his thumb over the knuckle of yours. he intertwined your fingers, only letting go after a while.

he tilted your head upwards with his two fingers, wordlessly asking for permission. moonlight now struck you two as he moved in.

uninterruptedly, he kissed you. deepening it with a pull of the hand, holding you against him.

he let go after a while, his internal clock signaling it was almost time for curfew.

before he left, he whispered to you. "i don't.. really care what we're labeled. and if this shit is real or not.

i just want to be close to you."

he turned, walking to the elevator. leaving your breathless, with your heart in your throat.

no more words were spoken between you two, not as you screamed into your pillow, and not as he stared up into the ceiling of his room.

you passed that math test. and each assignment that went with it.

the end of the year was now coming quickly, of the school year that is. you and katsuki still kept up your 'act', the activities now stretching to dates after school mixed in with your study sessions.

one's that'd leave the touch of katsuki on you more than the touch of knowledge. but it was working nonetheless.

it was all good between you two, an eternal honeymoon it seemed. after all, by now it had been at least seven months since this began. your class ranking was higher, he no longer had to worry about strolling through the halls, it seemed nothing could get in your way.

well, besides two things.

one: the fact that you two were scared to label in between yourselves yet, too bashful to call him your boyfriend and you his girlfriend in private, yet proud fully admitting it to others.

two, the girl currently straddling him with no regard to you whatsoever. your entire cafeteria table was staring at her, looking at what katsuki would do to move her off.

but when he didn't immediately, didn't immediately curse the girl out and push her off him? you did the job for him.

you yanked the girl by her hair, sending her to the floor with a tray of food falling onto her body. all attention was on you as you stared at katsuki, your mouth agape in anger.

"what the fuck bakugo?" you ignored her, even stepping on her leg slightly as your hands were agitated, your whole body was. you didn't even know why you were jealous. this wasn't real, it never was, he was just playing his role too well.

you should've known katsuki would go too far. he always did.

"babe-- it's not what you think-"

"then what was i looking at? and don't call me that. don't- don't fucking call me anything. we're over."

you knew to him that probably meant something different. you acclaimed the despair in his eyes to the loss of protection, to the loss of ease as he walked in the halls and the lack of paparazzi that'd ask him questions on his love life.

but to him it was so much more.

it was those things, yes. but it was more so the thought of losing you. the thought of the affection over the months being nothing but a memory and not his future. the thought of not having you close to him.

the thoughts of becoming nothing to you, less than a friend.

he didn't know why he didn't move, it was like he physically couldn't. the look in the girl's eyes, the grip she had on him, the weird smile. he recognized her as one of the girls who usually would be in the crowd following him around.

"you don't mean that." his voice sounded more desperate than it had in the whole time he'd met you, more longing slipping through than he intentioned.

but the sun's casting light had moved away from you, casting you in a shadow. "i do mean it. fuck you."

he was going to run after you, to chase you as you slammed your lunch tray into the trash. heading up to the rooftop to he alone.

but a hand, mina's, pulled him back. "i think.. you did enough bakugo."

she went after you instead, promising to bakugo she'd check on you.

fangirls were one thing? but a messy public breakup where you were never really something in the first place? surprisingly worse.

he'd been more snappy lately, his aura making the girls around him keep their distance.

he'd become quieter, closed off. you didn't come to eat lunch with him anymore, obviously. and he didn't go up to the rooftop to join you.

he didn't know how to speak to you, how to explain what happened, how to say that he was sorry.

he ran the scenario in his head a million times, thinking over the girl's quirk that had forced him into place. but it sounded so convenient, like he was lying.

but since your entire relationship was based off of one, he didn't know how to approach the topic in the first place.

a week. a week passed before he could muster up the words to speak to you.

a week of being ignored in the hallways, side glances and being walked off on. a week of not having you by his side, not having you to talk to, to study with,

to kiss.

you were alone on the rooftop, eating silently as you felt a presence behind you. you saw his hair in the shadow and sighed, placing your plate onto the floor next to you. "what?"

"let me talk."

"...fine."

he breathed a sigh, hands balling as he forced the words out. "i know what you saw. and i know it was bad, but listen. that.. girl. she had some quirk on me or something."

he paused, seeing as your movement shifted. he took the fact that you didn't leave as a sign to continue.

"i couldn't move, i would've. you know that. but, it was right for you to be fucking pissed. i'd be too.

and i know, this is my fault in a way. i've been.. a fuckin' loser about this." his hand went up to support his head, his eyes averting from where he felt yours eyeing him.

"i needed to ask you out, officially i mean, a long time ago. it was wrong of me to use you-"

"it wasn't like that and you know it." you moved now to face him, you taking his hands in yours once more.

"what are we? to you i mean."

"right now..

we're nothing, right?"

your eyes widened, his eyes came back to look at yours.

"what?"

the words settled between you, it sent a cold shiver down your spine at the implication.

"wait-- fuck i'm messing this shit up. i mean, we're, not anything right now. we weren't anything."

your heart sank, eyes falling to the floor though your hand still held by him. your bleeding heart was in his grasp too, it was apparent.

"but,

i'd like to be? if you'd have me."

he squeezed your hand tightly. "i, i think i did this all out of order. but, would you go out with me?"

you let out an anxious laugh mixed with emotion. relief? despair? you honestly didn't know. tears burned the corners of your eyes.

"you're-- you're real weird, you know that?"

"is that a no."

"no, it's a yes. i think."

"ya think?"

"you don't get to question me!"

"yeah, whatever." you shared a laugh of relief together. he held you, moving away to bring something out of his pocket.

a small bento box for you.

you gasped at the sight of it, it was so cute. "thank god! i hate this school shit." you sat down, patting the side beside you, prompting him to sit down.

"wow, a heart? don't tell me you like me or something katsuki."

instead of deflecting, of telling you to buzz off, of shoving you lightly, a small smile came over his lips once again. after a beat, he laughed boyishly.

"you caught me."

...

he patted your back as you choked on the heart shaped seaweed.

your first date was cute, a small picnic with the country of musatafu as your backdrop. it was weird, this scene had played out between you two various times. in his room, in public, in private, to everyone else you two had just recovered from a messy breakup. and yet,

your stomachs were filled with butterflies at the affection between you two.

your rank was high, the dates were endless between the two of you now. study dates, just going to cafes, mundane things became more when you were by each others side.

years passed, and your poor dorm was going mostly unused. you'd sleep in his bed most of the time, actually- you'd spent most of your time in his room. he even cleared out a section for you in his closet despite the fact that yours was perfectly fine.

graduation came along, your careers came rushing at the two of you.

you were the top rated woman hero, and he was number one. just like he dreamt, just like he imagined the future would be for the two of you all those years ago.

you were picking out some drinks from the vending machine, a pocky hanging out your mouth as you decided between two flavors.

you finally chose, having two drinks in your hand for you and katsuki when he suddenly dragged you into an alleyway, grunting when he pushed you against the wall.

deja vu? maybe, you felt like you lived through this before, the same mindless stampede of girls rushing past.

"i told you to clip down your hair."

"shut up. don't they even care that we're married now? why do they fucking bother?." he sighed, annoyed as he lightly grabbed the can out your hand, his frustration not matching his actions.

"well, maybe we need something that'd make it even more official." a lightbulb went over the both of your heads. you faced each other, a streetlight letting you see the slight pink tint of his cheeks.

"a ca-"

"a baby."

you laughed, keeling over at the sight of his face that grew impossibly red.

you went home, hand in hand, the photos of the two of you together making rounds in the media again.

but as you laid with his head laid on your lap, your head rested comfortably against the furniture you'd chosen for your home?

you couldn't help but feel like everything worked out perfectly.

and with the new addition of your family laid sleeping on top of katsuki's chest.

tags (can't tag orange :c): @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @amayaaaxx @i-the-fluffo @irenne-stans @hisonlyobsession @dead-fish-soup @pretty-sparkle-bomb @matchat3a @yura-4life @djlance-rock @zuzukusna @hiimsaraandyou @uy242c

[yuujispinkhair]

NERD!SUKUNA HEADCANONS - Part 1

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). College AU. 2k words 18+, fluff + smut (Sukuna has some dirty fantasies about Reader. The actual smut will be in Part 2). "Enemies" to friends to fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is shy and struggles with her grades. Sukuna is a genius but bad at feelings ;) Minors don't interact. Divider @/.lacedolliee. Credit for the super sexy fanart of Nerdkuna goes to my sweet friend @winterrbluess. The pic was used with Winn's permission 🖤 You asked if someone could write a little something about your fave sexy nerd, and I couldn't resist ;) I hope you'll enjoy it!

Nerd!Sukuna, who looks like a bad boy but is actually at the top of all his classes and a huge nerd when it comes to his studies and his various interests. Very intelligent, passionate, and hardworking. Sukuna always wants to be the best in everything he does.

Nerd!Sukuna, who could be one of the most popular guys on the whole campus if he wanted to, with his good looks and impressive height and fit body. But he keeps everyone at arm's length, not giving a fuck about popularity and not wanting to get distracted from his academic success.

Nerd!Sukuna, who once beat up a football player who tried to make fun of Sukuna's passion for all things history-related, and ever since that day, no one dared to bother Sukuna again.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is arrogant and condescending and thinks (rightfully so) that no one is fit to hold a candle to him. He is constantly looking down on everyone around him and would rather spend his free time perfecting his skills and studies than doing something useless.

Nerd!Sukuna, who hates group projects and prefers to work alone because everyone else is just holding him up, and Sukuna has to control all of their steps to fix their mistakes.

Nerd!Sukuna, who rolls his eyes in annoyance when he gets paired up with you for an assignment. A shy little thing whose name he never heard before, which means you are definitely not playing in the same academic league as him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who towers over you with his backpack slung casually over his broad shoulders and his tattooed face cold and hard when he informs you that he expects you to work hard and not fuck up his grades, or he will make your life hell.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is fully convinced this will be a disaster when he sees you wring your hands nervously and promise him you will work your ass off for this assignment because you really need a good grade so you can pass.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is a control freak who plans everything ahead and, therefore, doesn't let you have a word on how often you meet or when or where. He doesn't like having people over at his place, but he invites you over anyway because his kitchen table is his favorite place to study.

Nerd!Sukuna, who fixes you with a stern look through his nerdy glasses as he shoves a huge stack of books across the table, informing you he expects you to read all the needed information, which he already marked for you with various color-coded sticky notes. "Because you probably don't even know what we need for this assignment."

Nerd!Sukuna, who is surprised by how thoroughly you work and by the questions you ask him, which let him know you aren't as dumb as he thought.

Nerd!Sukuna, who likes how you hang on his lips when he explains stuff to you, clearly impressed by his detailed knowledge. And maybe, just maybe, he intentionally lowers his voice a bit more, just to see you get all nervous when he is talking in such a husky way, almost as if he isn't explaining political intrigues in the Heian era to you but rather telling you what he wants to do to you in his bed.

Nerd!Sukuna, who finds devilish joy in seeing how flustered you get around him and how clearly intimidated you are by his tall and broad body and his tattoos and arrogant attitude.

Nerd!Sukuna, who has to admit (only to himself) that getting paired up with you isn't too bad because at least you give your best, and you are actually kind of cute. The kind of sweet, shy girl who usually doesn't cross paths with him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself watching you during study time in his kitchen or in the library. He tells himself he is just checking if you really do your work, but his gaze mostly lingers on your glossy lips, which wrap around your pen while you focus on something or on your nose, which looks super cute when you scrunch it up in confusion.

Nerd!Sukuna, who isn't one to brag because he thinks that is something for losers, but he can't help but mention casually some of the academic awards he already won just because he is getting addicted to the buzzing in his veins when he sees the way you gulp hard and get all shy and cute on him, muttering something about how you struggle to even stay in college.

Nerd!Sukuna, who usually loves to be a little sadist and make fun of people who have bad grades, but somehow, he can't bring himself to do that when it comes to you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who instead surprises himself by reaching out and ruffling your hair, telling you that he will help you with your studies.

Nerd!Sukuna, who forms a strange little companionship with you, almost looking forward to your meetings and even preparing an extra plate of snacks for you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who usually isn't someone people would refer to as nice, but who drops his arrogant and mocking attitude at least a little when he is in his kitchen with you and instead jokes around with you and feels his heart throb weirdly when you get his humor, and laugh about his even most sarcastic remarks.

Nerd!Sukuna, who likes it when you come out of your shell more and more, joining in on his playful teasing or telling him about your favorite books and shows.

Nerd!Sukuna, who accidentally overhears you telling your classmate that you don't have time to go to the coffeeshop with her because you are already meeting your friend Sukuna after class, which leaves Sukuna standing in the middle of the hallway for a whole thirty seconds, with his mouth hanging open, completely stunned and looking like a brainless idiot as his mind tries to wrap around the fact that you see him as your friend when Sukuna never had a friend before.

Nerd!Sukuna, who makes sure to bake your favorite muffins and prepare your favorite type of tea before you come over that afternoon, wordlessly showing you that he values your companionship, or friendship, as you called it, too.

Nerd!Sukuna, who feels a small smile tug at his usually smirking lips when he sees your big happy smile and hears your sweet "For me? Oh, thank you!" when you see the plate with muffins on your place at his kitchen table. And yes, he refers to it as your place, and the thought makes him feel strangely warm.

Nerd!Sukuna, who playfully teases you for your Hello Kitty pens and glittery pink notebooks, asking if you are in some "Little Princess Kindergarten Club" or something. Only for you to march up to him the next morning before class to press a Hello Kitty text marker set against his chest so he can join the club, too, causing Sukuna to sit in class with a stupid grin on his face for a whole hour.

Nerd!Sukuna, who likes how easy things feel with you. How he can put all his hard work into your assignment and also see you working hard on it, but also have this light-hearted, playful banter with you, making him realize how boring and dry his afternoons used to be before you became his assignment partner.

Nerd!Sukuna, who has to admit that you definitely aren't as bad of an assignment partner as he thought you would be. He even allows you to fill out a whole page all by yourself, which is the biggest compliment he can give you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself playfully flirting with you, smirking smugly when he catches you staring at him when he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "See something you like, princess? Aww, no need to be embarrassed. I know those glasses look sexy on me."

Nerd!Sukuna, who loves to tease you like that and who ducks just in time when you scream in embarrassment and throw a pen at him while looking so fucking cute that Sukuna just teases you even more.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is quite happy with how your assignment is going. Usually, he would do the whole presentation by himself because he trusts no one else to deliver it the way he wants to, but Sukuna knows how shy you are about talking in front of the class, and Sukuna wants to teach you how to lose that fear.

Nerd!Sukuna, who just smirks at you when you complain loudly, "I can't do that! I am so bad at presenting things. I get all nervous and flustered, and then I mess up. Please do it yourself, Sukuna! You are so much better at this!"

Nerd!Sukuna, who tells you, "If you always run away from everything that scares you, you will never make it in life. So, nope. You will do your part. But aren't you such a lucky girl that you have me as your teacher?"

Nerd!Sukuna, who makes you stand in front of his fridge and practice your presentation over and over again while Sukuna sits on the kitchen chair, long muscular legs spread, tattooed arms crossed in front of his broad chest, occasionally pushing his glasses up as he watches you with an amused expression on his tattooed face, providing a brutal but honest opinion and actually helpful advice.

Nerd!Sukuna, who isn't just an overly critical and perfectionist asshole, but also someone who gives praise when he thinks it is deserved. And you, his cute little assignment partner, really deserve it. Sukuna walks over to you, stopping in front of you with a broad grin, "You did really well, princess. I'm proud of you."

Nerd!Sukuna, who wonders why your pupils look so blown out all of a sudden when you tilt your head to look up at him, stuttering in a slightly breathless voice, "Th... thank you. You were a really good teacher."

Nerd!Sukuna, who laughs and pets your hair as he smirks at you, saying something about how he could teach you lots of other things, too. Not sure anymore whether he is still just teasing you or if he really means it in a sexual way.

Nerd!Sukuna, who realizes he has a little big problem when he starts noticing the way your tits get pushed up and almost spill out of your shirt when you press a stack of books against them. Or when he loses his thread because you decided to wear a sexy little skirt, and now Sukuna can't stop thinking about how cute it would look if you were bouncing on his cock while still wearing that little skirt. Or when you suck on your stupid Hello Kitty pen, and Sukuna can't help but imagine how those sweet glossy lips of yours would feel wrapped around his cock instead.

Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to suppress those thoughts though, not wanting to mess this assignment up.

Nerd!Sukuna, who feels like encountering a world boss in a computer game, when you have a breakdown at his kitchen table, the evening before your presentation, crying and sobbing because you are nervous and convinced you will fuck up. And suddenly, Sukuna finds himself comforting you, gently caressing your arms with his large hands while murmuring reassurance to you. "Hey, stop being a brat. I know you can do it. You learned from the best, after all, didn't you, princess? And you got me. Just look at me the whole time, ok? Nothing bad can happen when you just look at me."

Nerd!Sukuna, who is surprised by how protective he feels over you at that moment. You are sitting in front of him looking like a wet cat, with your eyes all red and swollen from crying and snot running out of your nose, but somehow you still look so fucking cute to him, and somehow you make him so much softer and less rational than he usually is.

Nerd!Sukuna, who sighs and growls, "Oh, just come here." sounding annoyed but contradicting it by pulling you into his strong arms and holding you until you feel ok again. Sukuna still complains that you got his shirt wet with your tears, but his words lack the bite.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is genuinely proud of how much you improved when he watches your part of the presentation the next day. He even catches himself smiling a real smile at you when he congratulates you after class.

Nerd!Sukuna, who experiences a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach when you smile back at him and put your small hand on his tattooed biceps, "Thank you, Sukuna. It was really nice working with you."

Nerd!Sukuna, who manages a "same," but then just stands before you, opening his mouth and closing it again, not knowing what else to say because there are too many thoughts racing through his mind, and all of them seem to be too honest. And you do the same, shuffling around shyly, looking at him with wide eyes, parting your lips, but no words come out. And so both of you just lift a hand in an awkward farewell gesture and leave on opposite sides of the hallway.

Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to tell himself he is glad that your assignment is over and he can work in solitude again but then ends up staring longingly at the empty chair at his kitchen table, where you used to sit those last few weeks.

Aww Sukuna, do you miss us? ;)

I AM VERY ATTRACTED TO HIM AAAHHHH please, Kuna, tell me more about history and physics and every other subject that there is!!! You are so sexy!! 😘😘

Winn's fanart of Nerdkuna made me swoon so much and fall in love with him, and I always picture him as being at the top of classes anyway, so I think it was really time to finally write about him living his best nerdy life.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the headcanons! I will post Part 2 in a few days 💗 Will Kuna find a way to get us back onto his kitchen chair?

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

Here is Part 2

[mingoooossii]

Y. Ga Min headcanons.

Kdrama: study group

Warnings: fluff, messy writing??(not exaggerating) not really structured

A/n: word vomit basically. i had LOT of thoughts so yeah it's messy (i wanted to write a lot more but i stopped myself) 🫥 I hope it's readable atleast but anyways I love ga min he's so adorable. also tagging my pookie @slytherinshua

Words: 755

han ul, hyeon woo ver., geon yeop ver.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Before dating.

• you two started off as just classmates (one that he admired)

• you were pretty, kind AND smart!!!

• how could anyone not like you??

• though that admiration soon grew into something more

• the way his heart tightens a little whenever you meet his eyes

• or the way he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you even during lessons

• he couldn't figure out why (might even conclude that he's sick)

• i feel like he wouldn't even realise that he has a crush until Se hyeon points it out (bless his soul)

• *short circuits*

• at first, he wouldn't know what to do (he's only been interest in studies his whole life, don't blame him-)

• but i can see him be more shy around you after that

• he tries to be discreet but fails

• exposes himself without even realising it 😭 (are we surprised)

• he's just a cutie, okay?

• also wouldn't think of the possibility that you might actually like him back???

• you most definitely confessed first (after all the hints you've dropped, you got impatient)

• surprised that you actually like him back (but is also very happy)

• he'd want to be the absolute best boyfriend to you 🥹🥹

⊹ ࣪ ˖ In a relationship.

• after getting together with you, he'd want to be romantic

• the kind that makes you swoon at every step

• takes inspiration from mangas (we're talking about GRAND gestures, it's just so amazing to him)

• but eventually gives up after a disapproving talk with Se hyeon (and an even more disapproving glance from Ji woo)

• he's trying his best okay :((

• but he's actually more charismatic than what he gives himself credit for

• the type to make you shy with his actions which he doesn't even consider as romantic

• unintentional rizz??

• notices every little thing about you

• you got a haircut? he notices and compliments you

• you got a new hair clip? he buys you several cute ones saying it would fit you

• this also applies to his memory btw

• he'd remember the little things you'd say (even if it's not that important to you)

• because it's important to him

• also crazy eye contact

• yes he'd be shy but nothing beats his eye contact, it's just so important to him

• doesn't realise how much it flusters you 🫠

• loves affection

• hugs, kisses, headpats whatever it is he LOVES it

• but he does have a soft spot for headpats or just you simply running your hand through his hair

• he has insanely soft hair so it kind of became your habit to touch his hair whenever

• the first time you did it, he was kind of baffled

• but after that he began to love it and even crave it (your hands were just so comforting)

• so please give him headpats!! (or else he'll stare at you with his boba eyes until you do, yes this is a threat)

• though he, himself is somewhat on the shy side with affection, he loves to hold your hand

• like i said earlier, he finds your hands warm and comforting so he feels at ease whenever he holds your hand

• he also likes it when you compliment him

• definitely the type to think back on it before giggling to himself (he's so cute help)

• study dates are an absolute must!!

• loves it when you help him with his doubts (definitely stares at you with his shiny eyes when you explain something)

• he gets to spend time with you and study at the same time, it's perfect to him.

• he's not really the type to get jealous

• though he does have his moments, he trusts you so that's what matters

• but he won't hesitate to step in if he sees that you're uncomfortable in any way

• tries not to get into a fight but absolutely will if it's necessary

• will introduce you to his mom pretty early on in your relationship

• he'd be a bit worried about it, thinking she's gonna disapprove

• though she wasn't exactly ecstatic when she found out, she wouldn't express it

• but she'd end up liking you after seeing that you were a positive influence (and you made him genuinely happy, so that's all that matters to her)

gen taglist: @mayflyfr

[eightmakesonebraincell]

can i get a name for your drink? yeah, peter parker

genre: delinquent!ateez x bubble tea worker!reader, meet-cute, high school au, fluff, crack

length: 6.6k

c/w: cliche depictions of high school delinquents, mentions of smoking, drugs and clubs, boys trying to act tough, everybody has bad humour, swearing is their mother tongue

synopsis: a bubble tea shop is one of the last places you would expect for a high school delinquent to walk into during the dead of night. yet here you are, forming an unlikely friendship with not one but eight of them. they may be kind of stupid, but they also kind of grow on you.

a/n: a fic with no angst? a fic without a 40k wc?? new writer who dis. just a short and sweet fic @sorryimananti-romantic helped prod me to write

you know that you are probably shaving a couple months off your lifespan each time you work a night shift at the bubble tea shop and subsequently fuck up your entire sleep routine for the next couple of days, but it gives you a bit of extra money, there are hardly any customers, and it is quiet enough that you can squeeze in some studying at the same time.

the shop probably averages about two couples and a few odd individuals here and there per night. why a small business would even decide to stay open during ghost hours in the first place, likely making negative profit, you have no idea. but you digress–you are just here to bum around for money.

so when your average customer number suddenly spikes not just by one, two or three people, but by an entire group of eight, it is safe to say you are more than confused. they are obviously your age because you can recognise the school crest embroidered onto the front pocket of their uniform shirts; it is one of the nearby high schools in the area. except, that is where the similarity ends.

only half of them are wearing their uniform, and even then they layer it unbuttoned over bold statement t-shirts like it is a mere accessory. the others wear black tracksuits and there is not a single pair of proper school shoes to be seen. your eyes cannot help but scan their pierced ears and obviously-styled hairstyles–you are pretty sure the shortest boy has dyed his hair a lighter shade of brown too.

it is hard to take your attention off of him as he takes one last drag of the cigarette in his hand, lazily blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth before he flicks the butt onto the floor outside and steps in through the door along with the others. you idly wonder how he got his hands on a fake id to purchase cigarettes in the first place, but at least he is polite about not smoking inside your store.

the group saunters up and you startle slightly as the boy at the front slaps his hand against the counter with the matching confidence to his glorified 6 foot height to demand, “give me a double shot of espresso.” he pulls away his hand to reveal a mismatched assortment of sad coins and crumpled notes.

“we, uh–” you glance not so subtly at the wall-sized menu behind you and the LED lighting decor sprawled across the other three walls with the phrases, ‘you’re a cu-tea’, ‘you’re pearl-fect’, and ‘you’re my bo-bae’, and wonder what gave these boys the impression they could order coffee. “we don’t sell coffee,” you state.

he does not seem fazed by your words at all. “can’t you just, like, charge me for your most expensive drink and make me a coffee?” he asks his absurd question with practiced ease, which makes you think that this is not his first rodeo.

unfortunately for him though, you deadpan, “i physically can’t. we don’t have a coffee machine.”

the boy’s expression finally cracks a little and you can literally see the cogs slowing down to a stop inside his brain. “aw, fuck,” he swears, “this worked last time.”

one his friends shrugs callously and snickers, “what did i say, mingi. told you they wouldn’t have one.”

“shut up, jongho,” he gripes in response.

you gesture vaguely at the laminated menu on the counter beside the cash register. “would you like something else to drink?” you offer.

the tall boy–mingi–takes all but one look at the barrage of words before his eyes flicker back up towards you. “recommend something.”

“depends on what you’re feeling,” you hum your scripted question, pointing to the different sections of the menu. “do you want something fruity or milky?”

he looks constipated as he weighs the two options. “fruity?” he eventually settles, still sounding unsure. “what’s good?”

at the question, all of their eyes turn to look at you intently and you feel yourself wilting internally at the thought of explaining the drinks to a group of boys that look like outright delinquents, because if there is one downside to working here apart from the crippling health impacts, it is the loss of your dignity each time you have to say the stupid names of the drinks.

“well,” you clear your throat and steel yourself, “we’ve got the bubbly butterfly blues, a purple grape and blueberry fruit ade, or the mysterious mermaid magic, a mango and passionfruit green tea with rainbow pearls.” you forge on with your explanations despite the furrowed brows and open mouths of judgement on their faces, deciding to give them a recommendation for a milky drink too just in case. “the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles is also pretty popular. it’s a strawberry milk tea with whipped cream, sprinkles and marshm–”

“i’ll take that one,” mingi interrupts, unable to stand the onslaught of words that make the world around him explode into pink glitter. he drops an additional crinkled note onto the counter for good measure and then strides away to take a seat at the table in the furthest corner of the store to wait for his cutesy drink.

half a snort escapes the back of your throat at the sight. mingi may as well hold a megaphone to his mouth and shout “i am a manly man!” to make himself feel better. what an idiot.

you shift your attention to the rest of the group. “anything i can get for you guys?” you ask.

“fuck it, why not,” the one who had been smoking shrugs immediately. “get me the same thing he’s getting.”

most of the others pass and step away to join mingi at the table as you sort out the payment for delinquent number two’s cutesy drink. when you close the cash register–you are tempted to ask them why they have so many loose coins–the last two of the boys sidle up to the other side of the counter, peering down carefully at the menu.

you frown.

these two are actually wearing their uniform properly, only the first buttons of their shirt undone, no brightly-coloured tee peeking out from underneath, ties still around their neck and shirts tucked into their pants. they are even wearing their name tags; kang yeosang and park seonghwa. also, apart from the fact that the two appear prim and proper enough to be part of the student council, they are also very pretty.

said two look up at you, catch the frown across your face, fumble a little, then give you a small smile as a peace offering. “hi,” seonghwa greets softly, “can we get two regular pearl milk teas, please? thank you.”

you physically recoil.

“blink twice if you’re being threatened,” you blurt out, the words tumbling unwisely out of your mouth before you can stop them and definitely loud enough that all eight of the boys can hear you.

blink twice seonghwa and yeosang do, but not as a confirmation that the stark difference in their appearance and demeanour to the others is a sign they are being bullied into hanging out. they blink to ask–very respectfully–what the fuck you are on about.

they blink at you. you blink at them. the other boys blink at the three of you.

“sure thing!” you vocally sweep your own words under the rug. “two regular pearl milk teas coming right up!”

you swipe yeosang’s payment out of his hands–notes and coins carefully counted out to the exact amount–and punch the number into the cashier before swiftly turning your back to them to make their drinks. if you ignore something hard enough then it never happened. and it works, because they retreat to join the rest of their friends at the furthest table without further comment.

it does not take long to make all four of their drinks, but you do take a few extra minutes to carefully swirl the whipped cream on top of the strawberry milk tea orders and artistically shower them with sprinkles and marshmallows. you want to make them as cute as you fucking possibly can just for mingi.

“two rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles and two regular pearl milk teas,” you call out.

they all stand up, likely ready to leave once they grab their drinks. mingi leads the group with his long strides and he picks up his drink with one hand. he holds it up to eye level to study it like an unknown specimen and the moment he picks it up, one of his friends–you think you overheard the others call him wooyoung–cannot help but blurt out with distaste, “that shit looks sweet as fuck.”

mingi holds his drink closer to his body with a light glare because hey, it does look sweet as fuck but it also actually looks really good. and kind of cute, he will admit. he takes a tentative sip through the straw then a small lick of the whipped cream on top, the scattered toppings simultaneously crunching and melting in his mouth to spread sweet diabetes across his tongue.

it tastes like drugs in sugar form.

and it must show on his face because the tallest of his friends leans over to do the same, taking a sip from the same straw and a lick of the whipped cream from the other side, only far more generous and daring than the drink’s owner.

“bro,” comes the tall boy’s immediate reaction, “i’d get one of these every day.”

wooyoung suddenly looks less dubious and asks, curiosity now piqued, “give me a sip of that rainbow shit.”

“no,” mingi instantly responds, still keeping his drink close to his body and literally turning away to keep it protected and out of wooyoung’s reach. “you insulted my drink. get your own.”

the latter whines and you physically jerk backwards for the second time that night at their complete disregard for following stereotypical delinquent traits. you are starting to think that they are not delinquents so much as delinquent-wannabes and they seem increasingly harmless the more they simply exist.

“hongjoong,” wooyoung suddenly sings out, appearing to change targets to his other friend who had ordered the same drink. he is determined to try a sip tonight without having to spend his own money, but alas–

hongjoong flips him off and cradles his drink out of sight too. “you insulted my drink by extension.”

–determination can only get him so far.

this time, you cannot help the proper snort of amusement that leaves your mouth. you dare to hold your gaze with a lightly teasing lilt of your lips when wooyoung whips his head around with narrowed eyes. the boy cogs turn in his head as he deduces how far he can push the boundaries with you and he must come to some sort of conclusion that you are a newfound stranger-friend because he jokes with a straight face, “i’ll rob you.”

“sure,” you answer easily, tapping in a fake order onto the register’s screen to eject the cash drawer with a comedic ding! emphasising your words.

a few of them guffaw and wooyoung’s expression lights up to actually reach over the counter to help himself to a ten dollar bill. that is, until his hand is slapped away by somebody else with quite possibly the most perfect eyebrows you have ever seen. and no. you are most definitely not jealous.

“i’ll pay for your drink,” the friend chides, digging into his back pocket to fish out his wallet.

seonghwa shakes his head and advises, “don’t enable him, san,” at the same time that wooyoung brattily decides, “nah, don’t want one.”

“god, that’s it,” jongho mutters, starting to usher the group away from the counter towards the direction of the doors. “we’re leaving. mingi’s waiting outside already.”

they let themselves be herded and a few of them even turn to wave goodbye to you at the doors, cheerfully leaving behind the words ‘we’ll be back!’ in their wake as they exit the shop. your hand remains suspended in the air mid-wave even after they have disappeared and you blink blankly at the bizarreness of your entire encounter with the group of boys.

you do not know if they truly mean it when they say they will be back, but you do know one thing; you kind of hope that they do.

“can i get that thing i got last week.”

the tone of mingi’s voice ends his sentence more like it is a demand than it is a question, but the nuance of his words is still a request and already an improvement in comparison to your first encounter with him. if you are completely honest, you are also somewhat happy to see him and the others come back, so you will take the wins where you can. baby steps.

“which one?” you clarify. “i don’t remember.”

you do remember because their group of eight is pretty hard to forget, and they are some of the only customers you ever get. plus, you have made it somewhat of a personal challenge to hear mingi say something as stupid as ‘rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles’, which means that you are going to pretend for as long as you need to.

he scratches the side of his neck. “y’know, that drink you said is good.”

“we have a couple of those. was it the, uh, mysterious mermaid magic?” your head tilts with exaggerated thoughtfulness and from behind mingi, hongjoong and wooyoung cackle while the others look on with smirks, having caught on to exactly what you are doing.

“no, the rainbow unic…” he mumbles, voice growing increasingly softer with each syllable until his mouth is simply opening and closing.

you look at him with faux apologeticness and furrow your brows, “sorry? i didn’t quite catch that.”

“say it louder, dude,” his tall friend nudges him playfully. you are going to need to find out his name somehow because his is the only one you have yet to figure out, and you have a feeling you and him would get along real good.

“the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles,” mingi finally gets out. if he were a cartoon character, you would see the rising colour of bright red creep up from under his uniform to the tip of his ears and then to the very roots of his hair.

god forbid a manly man purchase a cutesy pick-me-up drink on a friday night.

you smile brightly and use your cheeriest customer service voice to announce, “one rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles for princess mingi coming right up.”

the boy in front of you is flattered to learn that you know and remember his name but is also twice as horrified by the nickname you have crowned him with. his brain short circuits and his eyes widen at you in panicked masculinity and he shoves his payment across the counter before retreating to the same table in the corner of the store where seonghwa is already seated. if you look closely enough, there is a little wisp of smoke coming out from the top of mingi’s head too as he malfunctions. heh.

the boy whose name you still do not know comes up to the counter next. he jerks his head backwards in the direction of mingi and orders, “could i get the same? that rainbow fairy sparkling unicorn or whatever.” the name is wrong but he gets an a+ for trying so you do not correct him, simply nodding and putting his order into the cash register instead.

then you ask for your own personal gain, “can i get a name for your drink?”

he does not appear to question your intentions nor realise he is the only one you have asked because he is too occupied grinning widely at you, unable to curb his cheeky excitement at the thought of what he is about to say. “yeah, peter parker,” comes his proud answer, quite literally naming his drink.

and that is how you find out that he has the best (read: worst) humour out of all of the boys.

it is frankly right up your alley but you refuse to let him one-up you. instead, you use it to your advantage. you nod, “p.p. for short,” dragging the abbreviated initials out for longer so that it sounds intentionally crude.

“peepee,” wooyoung repeats with unrestrained laughter, high-pitched shrieking that sets off the others as well.

and that is also how you find out that wooyoung has the easiest funny bone to tickle out of all the boys.

p.p.’s eyes glint with delight at the fact that you can both take and dish out your own freak. he leans against the countertop on his elbow, which is a sight to behold with how far he has to stoop down because of his height, and exposes you with no qualms, “it’s yunho, by the way, since you wanted to know my name so badly.” he adds a flirty wink for good measure as his friends ooh like the true teenage boys that they are.

you mirror his mannerisms and bat your eyelashes at him to say, “okay, whatever you say, peepee.”

hongjoong intervenes and shoves yunho aside before the latter can fall in love with you and your wack-ass humour or something. he shoos him away, “go sit at the table,” as if he is sending the taller into the naughty corner.

yunho concedes with his hands raised in mock surrender, walking backwards as he reassures his friend, “don’t worry. you won’t hear a peep-ee out of me.”

your facade cracks and you let out a laugh, which only grows louder when jongho takes the liberty to grab a wrapped straw from the container on your countertop to peg it at yunho’s face. it bounces perfectly off the middle of his forehead and lands on the floor, where seonghwa–bless him–bends down to pick it up. you think he might just be your favourite.

“didn’t know you were into that kind of humour,” hongjoong notes with a tone of amusement.

“oh, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” you respond, a hint of flirtatiousness in your words.

fuck being professional. these boys would probably be the last people on earth to ever report you for something like a coquettish comment, and god forbid you want to flirt with a couple of really hot guys. the image of hongjoong taking a lazy drag from his cigarette burns at the forefront of your mind as he stares intently into your eyes, and his seeming nonchalance to his own charm only makes him that much more attractive.

he raises an eyebrow, “is that a challenge?”

“only if you’re up for it,” you respond coyly.

san coughs and interrupts, “not to be a cockblock, but can you flirt after we order our drinks.”

the boy in front of you rolls his eyes, pairing it with a loving middle finger at his friend. however, he moves over anyway, half mumbling that he is not going to get a drink. his spot at the counter is immediately snagged by san who mimics yunho’s earlier pose leaning against the surface. “so,” he gives you an overly-smouldering gaze, “tell me something about yourself that i don’t know.”

a bubble of mirth rises from out of your chest and san drops the act utterly pleased with himself. you humour him, though only partially, by revealing, “the desserts here are actually really good. i love the cookies.”

“which one’s your favourite?”

you point to one of the cookies in the second row of the display counter. “the biscoff and peanut butter fudge.”

one of his beautiful brows raises upwards as if to ask why the cookie name is so normal. you give him a miniscule shrug. beats me. he shakes his head with a slight chuckle then requests, “i’ll have one of each cookie and one of each donut that you’ve got.” your eyes bug out of your head because that is a fuckton of cookies and donuts, but san reassures you they all have caves for stomachs.

you get started on their drinks then slide the glass doors open to pull their desserts out, only to realise that yeosang has lingered close by to watch you. he is not wearing his uniform today, instead in a tracksuit like the others but in white. he looks good in that colour and you tell him such, “your tracksuit looks good.”

“thanks,” he replies easily, “wooyoung shoplifted it for me.”

your jaw drops at his sudden confession, too taken aback to appropriately school your expression in time even if you should not really be too surprised by their shenanigans. at your obvious stupor, yeosang’s stoic face breaks immediately and he reveals, “just kidding, hehe.” despite his joke, he blushes to the very tip of his ears like rudolph but elf style and rushes away.

you are left dumbfounded in a good way. one day, you are going to teach yeosang a thing or two about confidence because his uncanny ability to keep a straight face whilst saying the most out-of-left-field thing when it is least expected then leaving the other person wondering whether he is being genuine or only joking is top-tier humour–he just needs to learn how to own it.

you are also left wondering whether there is a single sane soul in this friendship group. you still hold some hope for seonghwa and maybe san, but who knows.

when their drinks and spread of desserts are ready, you expect them all to leave like they did last week. except this time they drag two circular tables closer together in the far corner of the store that they seem hellbent on claiming as their spot, where they then lay out all of the desserts across the joint surface. you watch from behind the counter. there is both a sense of systematic order and chaotic mess to the way they take a bite out of a cookie or donut, nod enthusiastically at how good it tastes whilst shoving it into the face of somebody else, who will in turn take a bite and join in on the enthusiastic nodding and moan an affirmative that it is good.

“wait, this donut is fucking fire,” you hear, and, “this cookie is The Shit, bro.”

they are sort of really fucking cute; boys you would expect to see loitering in alleyways with cigs in their mouths and sneaking into clubs with fakes to pop pills, instead sitting hunched over on cute plastic stools around rickety circular tables sharing sweet desserts like they are at a tea party.

wooyoung catches your gaze over the top of jongho’s head and he gets up instantly to drag you out from behind your counter. all of your warbled protests go unheard as he pulls you by one of your loose apron ties–his strangely endearing way of being respectful not to actually touch you–towards their tables whilst refuting, “there’s nobody else in here but us.”

that is how you find yourself squashed between seonghwa and jongho, your shoulders and thighs touching from close proximity.

“try this blueberry lemon cookie,” seonghwa offers from beside you the moment you sit down, extending the treat for you to take a bite from.

mingi so helpfully reminds, “she literally works here.”

seonghwa shushes him, “yeah, but she probably hasn’t tried everything on the menu.”

he is not wrong. you may have the appetite, but you do not have the physical stomach to try an entire serving of each dessert available in the shop, even if you were to try one per shift. now that the opportunity has handed itself to you on a silver platter, you are not going to refuse. plus, you do not think that you could ever bring yourself to say no when seonghwa is holding the cookie out with both hands so eagerly.

he is definitely your favourite.

you take a tentative bite out of the cookie and eight pairs of shiny eyes do not leave yours until you give them an affirmative and enthusiastic nod at its taste. all flurry of activity starts up again as they continue to trade desserts with those sitting beside them and across the circle. it feels like you are suddenly back in primary school, sharing your snacks out of your lunch box and trading sandwiches with your friends. they include you easily in both taste-testing and conversation, filling your usually quiet shift with antics and laughter.

it has always been a perk that you do not get many customers, but now more so than ever, you hope that nobody comes in for the remainder of your shift–or at the very least, not until the boys leave. in just two meetings, they have all grown on you in their own ways and you kind of want this to become a regular thing. you could definitely get used to this.

despite their appearances and rough-around-the-edges personalities, they are really just a bunch of boys living their life to the fullest in the diabetic form of bubble tea, loaded cookies and glazed donut runs in the middle of a random night.

and honestly? if you had a group of friends like them, you would too.

yunho’s eyes narrow fiercely at the couple who are walking along the footpath outside the perimeter of your shop, daring them to step in through the doors. his glare is not needed though–the very sight of what is going down inside is more than enough for their eyes to widen and for the man to hastily pull his girlfriend away.

“oh look, there goes another two potential customers,” hongjoong notes with sarcastic dismay. “i wonder why people are always in such a hurry to leave.”

yunho blinks his murderous intent away and faces you with round, innocent eyes as you roll your own and cross your arms. your insides wilt at the loss of potential revenue but only by a tad, because whatever business they boys scare off, they make up for several times over. you state as a matter-of-factly, “maybe it has something to do with jongho.”

said boy currently stands about three feet away from you, his arms raised and fists clenched threateningly as the rest of the boys surround the both of you in a circle of sorts as if they are about to witness a bloody fistfight. you suppose it does not look too far from the truth–you are about to get punched in the face.

jongho shrugs dismissively, “it’s not my fault other people aren’t interested in learning how to get knocked out by a sucker punch safely.”

“i don’t think any of those words should go together in a single sentence,” you tell him honestly, unimpressed.

“they normally don’t,” jongho’s mouth ticks up, “which is exactly why you’re learning.”

you cannot win against him or any of them. last week it had been learning how to pop a dislocated shoulder back into place, the week before it had been how to dislocate a shoulder, and then the week before that it had been how to reverse-jump a person if they were chasing you into an alleyway.

it has become an ingrained part of your weekly routine for the boys to rock up during your friday night shift, order half the menu, hang around for hours where you usually join them, then leave until the next week rolls around again. but these random tutorials have only just recently become a new routine within your pre-existing routine.

it all started when wooyoung snuck behind your counter one night while your back was turned to make their drinks and decided it would be hilarious to scream in your face as you turned around. you had jerked backwards so hard that you knocked over the entire stack of blender jars, which toppled over into the dirty sink one after the other like noisy dominoes. seonghwa had made wooyoung personally clean and stack them all again as punishment, but the damage had been done and hongjoong had declared that you would not survive in the real world if a little fright like that could make your butthole pucker right back up into your own intestinal system.

and so had begun your weekly crash courses on survival instincts because according to them, you had none. you had refused to submit to their antics at first, but then yeosang had pointed out, “it’s true. wooyoung was standing behind you like a creep for a full five minutes and you didn’t even notice.” san had also threatened that they would not order anything until you complied each week.

“that’s not fair,” you had complained petulantly. “i just won’t serve you guys at all then.”

san had given you a cheshire grin. “you wouldn’t. we’re like, eighty percent of the total revenue you make during your shift.”

that shuts you up real quick and san knows, so you have no choice but to give in to whatever tomfoolery they choose to teach you for that week. if it is learning to ‘get knocked out by a sucker punch safely’, then so be it.

“okay, i’m all set to be punched in the future,” you declare dryly as jongho reigns in his fist after a pretend swing at your temple, “are you guys going to order now?”

hongjoong nods like he is the little leader of this delinquent gang, but jokes on him because they follow behind you to gather in front of the counter in a single file of sorts with practiced ease, an endearingly crooked line of ducklings. you know right off the bat that it means they already know what they want to order because other times they will come together as pairs or even triplets so that they can umm and ahh over the menu together.

you do not think you can ever take them seriously as proper delinquents–if they even count as such.

as if to prove your point even further, mingi throws up double gang signs and makes a poor attempt to rap, “i want an emineminem,” and when seonghwa not-so-subtly pinches his elbow, he adds on, “please.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing as your hands automatically move to input his order into the register, long past familiar with what his order truly means; mysterious mermaid magic, because the alliteration of the name ‘m and m and m’ sounds the same as the rapper’s name twice. go figure. you do not know if ‘emineminem’ is worse, or, as san calls it whilst flexing his biceps, ‘the merman’.

the boys have a shockingly terrible incapacity to remember the names on the menu correctly, but it is also partially due to the fact that they could give less than zero fucks about them. they will either say what they think the name is, or what they think the name should be.

they make the rules. you simply follow.

the first time it happened was during their third time at the store. “yo, give me a triple b,” jongho had confidently ordered.

“a fuckin’ what?” you were positive you were having a stroke.

“a triple b,” he had tried again, frowning at how you did not automatically understand him. “the big butterfly bus or somethin’.”

you could not take him seriously. “big butterfly bus? what are they gonna do after hopping on? go to fucking school?” you had jested. “also, you can’t just make up your own name and expect me to–you know what, sure.”

it sort of becomes a game. you will roll over in your grave before admitting it, but it is sort of fun to hear an absolutely rubbish string of words–or letters–come out of their mouths for you to then follow their ridiculous train of thought backwards to work out what the actual drink is. the silly boys with their silly names kind of grow on you.

and you may or may not indulge them a little too much. they are the first to try any new items on the menu, even when they are still technically not meant to be available to the general public. but when they pounce on whatever you present to them on the table like puppies and fresh kibble, it is very hard not to keep doing so. which is exactly why you bring out the batch of cupcakes you had made earlier specifically for them to taste.

they look like normal vanilla-frosted cupcakes, except when you bite into them, there is a dark chocolate cookie inside the base. it is the perfect mix of soft and chewy, and when the gooeyness is maximised by slightly warming the dessert up, it is–

“fucking fire, bro,” yunho says around a mouthful, blatantly ignoring the dirty look that seonghwa shoots him for talking with food in his mouth.

yeosang inspects the cookie at the core. “have you named it yet?”

you do not get a say in what the menu items are named and they always do in fact already have a name by the time the boys get to try them. regardless, you answer, “not yet,” because they love the power trip they get when they have creative liberty over your store’s products.

“i have an idea,” wooyoung pipes up immediately. “the frosted ultimate cookie cupcake.” then in a falsetto voice, he role-plays by himself, “hi, could i get a fucc please?”

mingi snorts himself silly and continues, “actually, could you give me two fucks?”

you oblige, “fuck you, and double fuck you,” flashing your middle finger at wooyoung first then mingi second to punctuate the fucks you are gifting them.

the boys snicker at your crudeness, absolutely delighted. not the type to let any opportunity to swear go by, the rest of them join in as san yanks you down to sit at the table with them before you can roll your eyes and walk away.

and out of all moments, it is this exact moment, when you are surrounded by the eight of them throwing out colourful words left and right with the giddy enthusiasm of toddlers, each holding a half-eaten vanilla-frosted cookie cupcake in their hands, that you realise you may actually give a few too many fucks about them…and not just in a friendly way.

well. fuck.

when you get a call on friday morning from your branch manager the following week, your immediate thought is that somebody finally chanced upon watching the store’s security footage and you have been caught making friends with delinquent customers and literally feeding them with business secrets. except when you pick up and tentatively greet him, he starts to say something that is arguably just as bad.

“i need you to swap shifts with gayoung. she can’t work this tuesday night so i need you to cover that day ‘cause there’s nobody else available,” he informs. “gayoung will cover your shift tonight instead.”

you are still trying to process his words as you repeat, “tonight?”

“yes, so you won’t need to go into work tonight.”

your heart skips a beat. for the first time in your life, you find yourself asking, “can’t i take both shifts?”

“no, you can’t. sorry,” your manager apologises but he does not sound sorry at all.

you have never voluntarily taken up extra night shifts, much less asked to take up additional shifts. yet, there is a heavy sense of disappointment that simultaneously settles itself deep inside your stomach and lodges itself in your throat, because it is friday today and friday night is for your boys. you do not even have a way of letting them know that you will not be in tonight.

you wonder if they will notice your absence and whether they will care. after all, you may just be somebody who happens to work at the bubble tea shop they frequent. but it turns out that they do and turns out you are not.

“where were you?”

those are the first words that are thrown at you the moment the boys walk through the door during your friday shift the week after you swapped nights with gayoung. they stomp up to your counter sporting furrowed brows and pressed lips, and if it were not for seonghwa’s soft smile and warm, “we missed seeing you,” you would have thought that they were angry at you.

you can only imagine how terrifying their demeanours would be if they were actually to be angry.

“my manager made me swap shifts with another coworker,” you explain and their expressions soften immediately.

jongho breaks out into a triumphant smirk as he turns to hongjoong with an upturned palm. “i told you. pay up.”

the latter sheepishly pulls out some crumpled notes as you gawk, “you bet on why i wasn’t at work?”

“don’t mind them,” wooyoung waves his hand dismissively. “hongjoong has trust issues–said that you were avoiding us.”

“i would never!” you refute at the same time that hongjoong exclaims, “i did not!”

“either way, fuck your manager. the fucking audacity to take you off our shift?” wooyoung complains.

you try to keep a straight face at the fact that wooyoung has just very casually claimed your shift–and by extension, you–as theirs. you babble the first thing that comes to mind, “the drinks are all made using the same recipe. it doesn’t matter who makes them.”

yunho’s eyes narrow with offense that you would even suggest a thing. “it’s nowhere near the same.” he is not the only one who wants to tell you that as long as it is not you it will never be the same.

their collective thoughts come out instead through mingi, “nobody understands when we order a triple b or an emineminem or a ‘horse drink’.”

“yeah, no shit sherlock,” you fire back, because apparently sarcasm is your automatic defense mechanism when you are flustered, “might help if you call them by their proper names.”

“or maybe the problem is that nobody knows us well enough like you do,” san insists with a wink and in response, yeosang reveals, “we don’t let just anybody get close to us.”

you joke before you can truly think your words through, “sounds like a you problem then.”

“you’re right,” hongjoong banters easily with smugness.

your nervous fidgeting as you tap useless buttons on the screen of your register gives you away despite your attempts to stay collected. they chuckle and it is difficult not to crumble under their unwavering gazes because it is obvious they can see right through your facade. but can anybody really blame you when you had not been expecting them to reciprocate your feelings of interest, much less admit to it so easily and straightforwardly?

in a last ditch attempt to regain some control over the conversation, you ask, “so, what do you guys want to order?”

from day one, the boys have surprised you in the most unpredictable ways–eight not-quite-delinquent delinquents with simultaneously calloused fists, pottied mouths and insatiable sweet tooth. today is no exception, and you have a feeling that you should start becoming accustomed to their antics because they are here to stay, especially after today.

“what we want to order?” they look at you with confident flirtatiousness. “your phone number and a date.”

taglist pt. one | apply for taglist

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[shy9-29]

Do You Ever Shut Up? [s.jy]

pairing - yapper jake x listener reader

“He talked, and I listened—quietly, sometimes frustrated, but always intrigued. It was never about the homework anymore, never about the noise. It was about the quiet moments in between, the ones where I started to realize that maybe, just maybe, the noise was exactly what I needed.”

wc. 18.1k

genre. fluff, high school sweetheart, introvert x extrovert — pt2

You had just transferred to this school at the start of the semester. New hallways, new faces, and the same routine—keep your head down, focus on your grades, and don’t bother trying to make friends. You weren’t rude or anything, just… disinterested. People were loud, messy, distracting. You had better things to do. Like acing every test handed to you and making teachers double-check your answers because they couldn’t believe how fast you worked through problems most kids couldn’t even start.

Within a few weeks, most of the staff knew your name—in a good way. The quiet, brilliant new kid. They praised your essays, passed your math tests around in the break room, and recommended you for everything from science fairs to tutoring programs. You didn’t mind. The praise meant progress, and progress meant a future far away from classrooms full of loudmouths and group projects.

You especially couldn’t stand people who didn’t know how to shut up. The ones who couldn’t go two seconds without blurting something out, who made every lesson drag twice as long. So when your chemistry teacher pulled you aside and said, “Y/N, I’m pairing you up with someone who could use your help,” you already knew it was going to be a disaster.

And then Jake sat down across from you.

Black hoodie unzipped just enough to show the edge of a white tee, black hair falling into his eyes, skin fair and clear like he actually cared about skincare or just had the genetics for it. His baggy jeans hung low on his hips, casual in that effortless kind of way. He looked like the kind of guy who never tried too hard but somehow still caught everyone’s attention.

“Yo! You must be Y/N, right? Man, they really gave me the quietest-looking tutor ever,” he said with a laugh, plopping into the chair across from you like he owned the place. “This is chemistry, right? Honestly, I don’t even remember what we’re learning. Something with… atoms? Explosions?”

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

He was loud. Way too loud. And friendly. Way too annoying. The kind of guy who talked like you’d known each other for years when you hadn’t even said hi yet. In your head, you were already calculating how many deep breaths it would take to survive the hour without snapping.

This had to be a joke.

Twelve years of school, and somehow your final year—the one that was supposed to be quiet, focused, flawless—had thrown him at you.

He was still talking. Of course he was. “I mean, I sorta remember something about covalent bonds? Or is that the one with sharing? I swear I passed the last test by, like, one percent.” He laughed again, leaning back in his chair like this was some kind of social hour instead of a tutoring session.

You stared at him, silently willing your annoyance to show through your expression. But either he didn’t get the hint… or he just didn’t care.

Jake.

You’d heard of him before today—impossible not to. Not necessarily popular, but everyone knew him. Loud in class, always chiming in with a joke, borderline annoying but weirdly charming in a way that made teachers sigh instead of scream. The kind of guy who never seemed to study, never seemed to worry, and still managed to scrape by.

The exact kind of person you hated working with.

He leaned forward suddenly, elbows on the table, eyes lit up like this was fun for him. “Okay, so, where do we start? You gonna explain it to me like I’m five or are we jumping into full nerd mode?”

You blinked again. “Do you always talk this much?”

He grinned like you’d just complimented him. “Oh yeah. It’s kind of my thing.”

You exhaled slowly, already regretting every life choice that led to this moment. “Great.”

He didn’t seem fazed. In fact, he looked amused. Like your irritation just made you more interesting.

This was going to be a long semester.

The tutoring session had barely started, and already Jake was more interested in you than the worksheet in front of him.

“So, Y/N,” he said, tapping his pen against the desk in a rhythmic, mildly irritating beat. “What kind of music are you into? Wait—lemme guess. Lo-fi? Or classical? You give off major ‘I study with rain sounds’ energy.”

You didn’t look up from your notebook. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, so I was close,” he grinned, like he’d won something. “Rain sounds it is.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to focus on drawing out the molecular structure of ethane, but he wasn’t done. Not even close.

He tilted his head a little, eyes narrowing like he was trying to solve a mystery. “Do you always study alone? Or do you have, like, a secret group of brainiac friends who meet in libraries and whisper about grades?”

You gave him a look over the top of your notebook. “No.”

“Not very talkative, huh?” he said, more curious than offended. “That’s cool. Mysterious. Bet you’ve got a whole double life outside school.”

You sighed. “Do you want to pass chemistry or not?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! I’m focused now.” A beat passed. “Wait—do you play any sports?”

You didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t asking anything personal exactly, just… personal enough. Stuff people asked when they wanted to know you. Not your grades. You.

“No,” you said flatly. “I don’t do teams.”

Jake nodded like that somehow made perfect sense. “Yeah, I get that. You seem more like a solo mission kind of person. Like a main character in one of those moody indie movies.”

You blinked. “Are you always like this?”

He laughed. “Pretty much. My brain doesn’t know how to shut up. You’ll get used to it.”

You highly doubted that.

Still, somehow… you didn’t tell him to stop.

You weren’t sure how ten minutes had passed and exactly zero chemistry questions had been answered.

Jake was now fiddling with a paperclip he found on the desk, bending it into what looked like a crooked star. “So, do you like this school better than your old one?” he asked, voice casual, like you were old friends catching up instead of two almost-strangers stuck in a forced partnership.

You glanced up, half expecting the question to be another distraction tactic. But he looked genuinely curious.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the worksheet.

He nodded like you’d just shared a whole monologue. “Yeah, I mean, this place kinda sucks, but in like, a tolerable way. The food’s trash, the lockers jam half the time, and the Wi-Fi dies when you actually need it. But hey, the vending machines are alright.”

You didn’t laugh, but the corner of your mouth twitched. A tiny twitch. You prayed he didn’t see it.

Unfortunately, he did.

“Was that a smile? That totally was! Oh my god, I made the quiet genius smile. This is going in my personal highlight reel.”

You rolled your eyes, flipping the page in your notebook harder than necessary. “Can we please focus?”

Jake leaned in, resting his chin on his hand like he had all the time in the world. “Sure, yeah. But just so you know, I’m gonna crack you eventually.”

You blinked at him. “Crack me?”

He grinned. “Get to know you. Make you laugh. You’ve got this whole silent, no-nonsense vibe going, but I bet there’s a cool person hiding under all that academic intensity.”

You didn’t respond. Not because he was wrong—but because, annoyingly, some part of you wondered if he might be right.

Still, you picked up your pen and pointed at the question on the sheet. “What’s the difference between ionic and covalent bonds?”

Jake groaned dramatically, slumping over the desk like you’d just asked him to run a marathon. “Ugh, fine. But I better get, like, one fun fact about you after this.”

You ignored that part. Or at least, you tried to. But your ears felt a little warmer than before.

By the time the clock hit the hour mark, you had managed to get through maybe—maybe—three questions. And even those had taken way longer than they should have, mostly because Jake kept pausing mid-sentence to tell you a random story or ask if pineapple belonged on pizza. (You never gave him a real answer. He took your silence as a “yes.”)

“Same time tomorrow, right?” he asked as he packed up, slinging his backpack over one shoulder like he hadn’t just wasted your entire afternoon. You nodded stiffly, jaw tight. “Yeah.”

“Cool. I’ll bring snacks,” he grinned, already halfway out the door before you could say anything else. “See you then, study buddy!” You didn’t even bother correcting him.

The second he was gone, you slumped back in your chair and let out a frustrated sigh, pressing your fingers to your temples. Your notes were still open, your pen untouched for the last twenty minutes, and your patience? Gone. Absolutely gone.

By the time you got home, you were still stewing. You tossed your bag on your desk with more force than necessary, scowling to yourself as you replayed the entire hour in your head. He’d asked you more questions about your favorite movies and weirdest pet peeves than he had about covalent bonds. He was loud, distracting, borderline infuriating—and worst of all, he didn’t even seem to realize how much he got under your skin. You sat down, pulled out your notebook again, and started rewriting everything you should’ve covered today. Alone. In peace. Like usual. And yet…

You found yourself thinking about that stupid crooked paperclip star he left on the table. And the way he looked so proud when he caught you almost smiling.

Ugh. You hated people like him. Didn’t you?

The next day, you threw your hair up into a bun—more out of practicality than style—and tugged on a soft, oversized knit sweater that hung slightly off one shoulder. Paired with your usual jean shorts and worn sneakers, you looked effortlessly casual, though you hadn’t really meant to. You didn’t care what people thought. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You hadn’t expected to see Jake until your tutoring session later, but the universe clearly hated you because there he was—again—in second period English, slouched in the seat two rows over. You tried to ignore him. You really did.

But then, about halfway through the class, you felt eyes on you. You glanced up, and sure enough, Jake was looking straight at you with a grin like he’d just remembered something funny. And then he waved. Your brows drew together. He wasn’t subtle—he never was—so a few people turned to look, clearly wondering what the hell that was about. You quickly looked back down at your notes, pretending not to notice, pretending your face wasn’t getting warm.

After class, you were barely out the door before you heard, “Y/N! Wait up!”

You turned, only out of reflex, and there he was, weaving through the crowd toward you, beaming like you were best friends.

“You in chem next?” he asked, like it was normal for him to talk to you in the middle of the hallway with people watching. “I was gonna see if you could explain that thing again—the molecule stuff? I was kind of half-listening yesterday. Which, honestly, is a win for me.”

You blinked at him. “We’re not even in the same chem class.”

He laughed. “Yeah, but I still need to pass it. Don’t judge me for multitasking.”

You were about to reply—maybe with a sarcastic comment, maybe just a noise of disapproval—when his friends called out from a few feet away.

“Jake!” Sunoo shouted, brows raised. He and Jay were standing by the lockers, both staring like they’d just seen a ghost. “What are you doing?”

Jake looked back at them, then to you. “I’ll catch you later, alright?” he said, completely unfazed by the attention. “Same time after school?”

You nodded slowly, still confused, still unsure what dimension you’d woken up in.

Jake jogged back over to his friends, who immediately pulled him into some kind of half-hushed interrogation. You couldn’t hear every word, but you caught Sunoo whisper-shouting, “Since when do you talk to Y/N?” and Jay glancing back at you like you were the weird one in this situation.

You rolled your eyes and kept walking.

Let them be confused.

You were still trying to figure it out, too.

You spent the rest of the day trying not to think about Jake. Which, naturally, meant he was all you could think about.

Every time you passed him in the hallway, he either nodded at you like some inside-joke was forming between you two, or—worse—smiled. And not the fake, polite kind. The full-face, toothy, dimpled kind that made people stop and stare because Jake never smiled at just anyone like that. You hated how it stuck with you. Like an echo that wouldn’t quit.

By the time the last bell rang and you were back in the tutoring room, you’d rehearsed a dozen ways to tell him to focus this time, to maybe not spend the entire hour talking about his favorite cartoon as a kid or what he thought his “aura color” was.

But of course, the second he walked in, hoodie slouched on his frame, that damn crooked paperclip star in hand, all your frustration shriveled into confused silence.

“You left this yesterday,” he said, dropping it on the desk in front of you like it was important. “Thought maybe you’d want your good luck charm back.”

You stared at it, then at him. “It’s literally a mangled paperclip.” He shrugged, sliding into the seat across from you. “Yeah, but now it’s sentimental.” You shook your head, trying not to let the faintest laugh escape. “Unbelievable.” Jake opened his notebook—shocking—and tapped his pen thoughtfully. “So. Ionic bonds, right? I did not Google them last night, so you’re gonna have to start from zero.” You blinked at him, almost impressed. “You actually opened your notebook.”

He gave you a mock-offended look. “Hey, I’m trying. You’re a tough tutor, but I think I’m learning. Like yesterday—I remembered you don’t like pineapple on pizza.”

You hadn’t even told him that.

He just… noticed.

You should’ve been annoyed. But instead, a small part of you warmed, just a little.

“Okay,” you said finally, flipping to a fresh page. “Let’s try again.” He leaned forward, scribbling something down as you explained. For once, he wasn’t interrupting. Not too much, anyway.

And even though he still talked way too much—and still asked questions like, “Do you think atoms ever get tired of being stuck together?”—you realized something strange.

You didn’t hate it as much as you thought you would.

Fifteen minutes in, and things were actually going… decent. Jake was focused, or focused enough—nodding along as you explained the difference between polar and non-polar covalent bonds, underlining things, even writing a few notes that didn’t look like doodles. You were cautiously optimistic.

But of course, it didn’t last.

He dropped his pen suddenly and groaned, leaning back in his chair like he was in the middle of a full-blown existential crisis.

You stopped mid-sentence. “What now?”

Jake threw his arms up. “Sorry, I just remembered I have to go home tonight and deal with my Gen Alpha little brother, and my soul left my body for a second.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“He’s so annoying,” Jake said dramatically. “Like, actually evil. You know how people say kids are mean? No—this one is a different breed. I think TikTok rewired his brain. He calls me ‘mid.’ Mid, Y/N. Just walks by and says it for no reason. I breathe and he’s like, ‘L ratio, you fell off.’”

You stared at him.

“He’s eight,” he added, like that made it make more sense. “And he told me I ‘dress like an NPC.’ Like, what does that even mean?”

You let out a breath through your nose, fighting the weird urge to smile. “Didn’t you say earlier you don’t care what people think?”

“Yeah, but that’s before I got verbally destroyed by someone who still watches ‘Cocomelon’ on the family iPad.”

You sighed, flipping back to the page you were on. “Focus, Jake.”

“I am focused. I’m just traumatized.”

You gave him a flat look.

He raised his hands. “Alright, alright. Covalent bonds. Sharing electrons. Got it. But if I randomly zone out again, just know I’m mentally preparing for another roast session when I get home.”

You shook your head and turned back to your notes, trying to pretend you weren’t kind of entertained.

Maybe a little more than “kind of.”

It happened every single time.

You’d sit down, ready to tackle the work, and then within minutes, Jake would start talking about anything but the assignment in front of you. One day it was how his favorite cereal was definitely the best, another time he spent twenty minutes describing his latest failed attempt at cooking dinner (which somehow involved burning a frozen pizza).

Every time, he would throw in a comment like, “Oh, this is easy. You’re a genius, Y/N,” or “Don’t worry, I’m totally listening,” and then proceed to get lost in whatever tangent was running through his head that day.

And for a while, you just kept it in. You stayed patient. You focused on the material while he babbled about his brother, his latest argument with his mom, or how one of his friends was “acting weird” (Jake’s words, not yours).

But by the time the sixth session rolled around, you were fed up.

You were in the middle of explaining the difference between ionic and covalent bonds again—again—when Jake started tapping his pencil against the desk. Tap, tap, tap. Then he started humming under his breath. Then he picked up his phone and checked his messages.

You could feel your patience unraveling, thread by thread.

“Jake,” you said, voice calm but strained, “I’m trying to help you here.”

“Mm-hmm,” he mumbled, not even looking up. “Sorry, sorry, I’m paying attention. Keep going.”

You gripped your pen tightly, taking a slow breath before you snapped, “Jake, I don’t know what you see here, but we are not friends. I’m not your personal therapist or your stand-in babysitter, and I’m definitely not here to listen to you talk about your annoying brother for the hundredth time.”

The words came out faster than you expected, a flood of frustration you’d been holding in for weeks. “I don’t care about your cereal preferences or how you totally destroyed your frozen pizza. You want to pass this class? Then focus. Or I’m done helping you. I’m not doing this anymore.”

For the first time in the several weeks of tutoring, Jake went completely silent. His pencil froze in mid-air, and his eyes widened, not in that usual playful way, but in actual surprise.

You didn’t care. You shoved your notebook aside, stood up, and grabbed your bag. “I can’t keep doing this, Jake. It’s exhausting, and I’m honestly tired of being disrespected every time I try to help you.”

He still didn’t say anything.

For a moment, you almost regretted it. Maybe you had been too harsh. But as you turned toward the door, you glanced back at him. He hadn’t moved. He was staring at his desk, eyes focused on something—or maybe nothing at all.

Jake was quiet. For the first time, he wasn’t talking. Not even a comment. Not a joke. Nothing.

Jake sat there for a long moment, his pencil still suspended in mid-air, the usual spark in his eyes completely absent. The silence between you both felt heavy, suffocating, and for the first time since this whole tutoring thing started, you felt the tension shift.

You almost expected him to crack some joke, to brush it off like he always did, but instead, he just… stayed silent. The kind of silence that made your skin prickle, like something was about to change. Something you couldn’t quite control.

For a second, you regretted what you’d said. Maybe you’d gone too far? Maybe you shouldn’t have snapped like that. But then again, maybe he needed to hear it.

You turned back to him, ready to speak, to apologize, maybe, but the words stuck in your throat.

Jake finally dropped his pencil, his fingers running through his hair as he leaned back in his chair. His gaze stayed on the desk, avoiding yours, and his lips pressed into a tight line, like he was holding something back.

“I get it,” he muttered after what felt like an eternity. His voice was different now—no teasing, no playfulness. Just… quiet. “I wasn’t really… taking this seriously, huh?”

You didn’t say anything, unsure if you should respond or just let him process it.

“I didn’t mean to waste your time,” he added, glancing up at you with an expression you didn’t quite recognize. It wasn’t playful, wasn’t cocky. It was genuine. “I guess I just… I don’t know. I thought if I made it more fun, it would be easier. Or maybe I thought I could mess around and still get by like I always do.”

You could feel the frustration and guilt bubbling up inside of you, but you crossed your arms and held your ground. “You can’t keep doing that, Jake. It’s not fair to me, and it’s definitely not fair to you.”

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure what to say next. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost under his breath. “I’ll try harder. I just… I guess I got used to things being easy and not, you know, actually working for them.”

You were silent for a moment, watching him closely. For all his noise, his interruptions, and his distractions, this was the first time he seemed to truly care about what was happening in front of him.

“Good,” you said quietly. “Because if you want to pass, really pass, you’re gonna have to start actually trying.”

Jake nodded, his usual grin absent, but there was something softer in his expression now. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll focus. I promise. Just… don’t give up on me, alright?”

You felt a small flicker of something—maybe relief, maybe frustration—pass through you. “I’m not giving up on you. I just need you to show up, Jake. For yourself.”

He met your eyes then, something unspoken passing between you two. And for once, you didn’t have to explain it. He understood.

The next day, you walked into the tutoring room with your usual steady pace, preparing yourself for another round of distractions, interruptions, and Jake’s relentless chatter. You had half-prepared yourself for him to slip back into his old habits—because that’s just who he was. He’d brush off yesterday’s moment and go back to the loud, talkative guy who couldn’t sit still for five minutes. That was what you were expecting.

But when Jake showed up, it was… different.

He was already sitting at the desk when you walked in, his backpack slung over his chair, and he was quiet. You glanced at him, unsure if you were just imagining it. The room felt oddly still, with no humming, no random comments about how you were “definitely the smartest person in the room” or stories about his brother calling him “mid.”

He barely acknowledged you, his eyes focused on the open notebook in front of him, his pen tapping gently against the pages like he was thinking about something. Normally, he would’ve cracked a joke or some random remark about how hard chemistry was—but today, he didn’t.

You paused at the door, looking at him for a moment longer, waiting for him to say something. But nothing came. Not even a greeting.

You sighed, shaking your head as you sat down across from him. “You good?” you asked, trying to break the silence.

Jake’s head lifted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Just… wanted to focus today. If that’s okay.”

For a second, you were thrown off. The change was… unsettling. The room felt quieter than usual. Too quiet.

You took a slow breath, trying to process it, but it wasn’t exactly easy. The constant noise, the banter, the Jake-ness that you’d gotten used to over the last few weeks—it was all gone. Now, he was just there. Quiet.

“Okay,” you said slowly, settling into your chair and trying to ignore the weirdness building up between you two. You picked up your pen, glancing at the worksheet in front of you. “Then let’s get to it.”

And so you did. You went through the material, explaining things like you normally would. Jake didn’t interrupt. He didn’t ask random questions or make jokes. He didn’t even fidget.

He was… listening. Actually listening. Really listening.

You’d thought it would feel like a relief, but instead, it was strange. You weren’t used to this version of Jake—the quiet one. The one who didn’t fill the silence with stories or pointless chatter. The one who was just… present.

It made you feel a little off-balance, unsure of how to act.

You hummed softly under your breath, trying to focus on the lesson without the usual distractions. The silence was deafening in its own way, but somehow, it felt… more comfortable. Even if it wasn’t what you were used to.

Jake looked up at you once, his eyes scanning your face, and you almost thought he was about to say something. But he just… nodded, his hand moving to scribble something in his notebook.

And for the rest of the session, you both worked in an unusual, almost peaceful quiet.

It was only then you realized how much you actually missed his constant noise.

The next day, as you were settling into your usual seat, Jake walked in with his usual easy stride, but this time, there was something different in his expression. It was a mixture of nervousness and excitement that didn’t quite match his usual laid-back energy.

He plopped down across from you and immediately opened his mouth. “Okay, so, random thought. I was thinking I should join an extracurricular.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure where this was going. “You’re already in, like, five different things.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, but none of them are fun, you know? I need something that actually interests me.” His eyes lit up like he’d just found a hidden treasure. “I think I’m gonna join the debate club.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Debate club?”

“Yeah! I’ve been watching these debates online, and they look so intense. Plus, I bet I could totally crush it. I mean, I talk all the time, so why not make it official?”

You paused, leaning back in your chair. “You do talk a lot, don’t you?”

Jake grinned. “Exactly! It’s the perfect fit.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Well, if you’re serious about it, the debate team’s pretty good. They’re always looking for fresh blood.”

Jake leaned forward, looking a little unsure for the first time. “Yeah, but, uh… I really don’t want to end up being paired up with someone super serious. I need someone who gets it. Someone who won’t just stare at me when I’m trying to argue my point. You know, someone who won’t be super intense about it.”

You blinked. “And you think that’s going to be—?”

He grinned widely. “You. Obviously.”

You froze, caught off guard by his sudden confidence. “What? No way. I’m not gonna be your partner.”

Jake gave you a half-smirk. “Why not? You already know the material, you’re sharp. We could totally own this.”

You shook your head, still not entirely convinced. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We barely survive tutoring sessions without me losing my mind.”

Jake just shrugged, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Come on, it could be fun. I promise I won’t talk your ear off during debates. Maybe.”

You gave him a skeptical look but didn’t say much else, just hoping he’d drop it. You knew Jake—he had a way of pushing until he got what he wanted.

The next day, you walked into the debate club meeting with your usual sense of reluctance. As always, the board at the front of the room had a list of members, paired up for upcoming debates. You moved through the crowd, skimming the names until you saw it.

Your heart sank.

There, in neat black letters, were your names. Right beside each other.

Y/N and Jake.

You froze, your stomach doing a weird flip as you scanned the board again to make sure you weren’t seeing things. No. It was real.

You turned to look at Jake, who was standing a few feet away, his grin wide and completely unapologetic.

“See?” he said, winking at you as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “Told you we’d make a killer team.”

You groaned internally. This was going to be interesting—and not in the good way.

Trying to swallow down your frustration, you looked over at him. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Jake just shrugged again, that damn grin still plastered on his face. “Well, now we have to do this. Might as well make the best of it, right?”

You stared at him for a long moment before sighing. “I guess.”

And so, with your names officially paired together on the board, you realized that this was going to be a whole new level of chaos you never saw coming.

The day you found out you were paired with Jake for the debate was a mess in itself, but the fact that it happened while you were on your period just made everything a hundred times worse. The usual irritation, the cramps, the exhaustion, and then—Jake—your perpetually loud, always-talking tutoring partner now also your debate team partner? It felt like the universe was conspiring against you.

You were sitting at the debate table with him, the rest of the team already getting into their discussions. You felt a headache coming on, your patience worn thin, and yet you were stuck with Jake, who was so eager about everything and so unbothered by your obvious lack of enthusiasm.

He had this unshakable grin on his face, his usual energy dialed up to an eleven as he enthusiastically listed off arguments for the topic. You could barely focus on anything but the mounting frustration. You could feel your blood simmering as he babbled about points, cutting through everything you wanted to say. You’d gotten the message—he liked to talk. You got it. He liked to talk a lot.

And here you were, forced to sit through it. For the first time, you had no patience left for his unfiltered commentary.

You had tried, at first, to engage—pointing out some key arguments and trying to follow the structure. But Jake wouldn’t let up. He kept interrupting, going off on tangents about how he absolutely knew his point was the best and why the opposition was always going to lose, not realizing he was starting to sound like a broken record.

The anger you’d been keeping inside all day from the stress of it all, the frustration, the lack of sleep—it just built and built.

“Jake,” you said, through clenched teeth, trying to stay calm. “Just focus. We have to make an actual case here.”

He grinned at you, unfazed. “Yeah, but listen, listen—hear me out, we can totally make this point sound better if we—”

You couldn’t even stand the way he kept cutting you off. His voice, his energy—it felt like it was bouncing off every surface of the room, and you were just… done.

So you did the only thing that was left in your power: you shut down.

You kept your eyes on the debate board, nodding absently to everything Jake said, too tired to argue, too angry to even care. The words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. You let him drone on and on, tuning out every bit of his rambling, just letting his voice wash over you without hearing a single word.

“Y/N, you get me, right?” Jake said, clearly expecting some kind of enthusiastic response. He was waiting for validation, something you were so tired of giving him.

You just nodded, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah, sure.”

His grin only widened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to react. The words felt like they were bouncing off a wall. You just didn’t care.

He rambled about how the opposition would have no chance against their “undefeatable argument” or how his points would totally blow everyone away. And you just sat there, nodding, fighting the urge to snap and scream at him to shut up.

By the time the debate was winding down, you had become the very picture of indifference. Every time Jake threw out a new idea, you just nodded along, your face a mask of calm that belied the tornado of frustration swirling in your mind.

You weren’t going to argue. You weren’t going to get into it. You didn’t have the energy. It was the same as always—Jake talking, you tuning out, and this endless, looping cycle where you did all the work, and he filled the silence with whatever nonsense he thought was important.

When the debate ended and the team moved on, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Jake slapped you on the back, still grinning.

“That went well, right?” he said, full of excitement.

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak without snapping. “Yeah. Sure.”

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the need to defend yourself or argue with him. You had nothing left to give. You just wanted to leave, to go home, curl up with your book and forget that you ever had to share a space with a guy who never stopped talking.

Every single day, Jake never ran out of things to talk about. Not once. He’d start with random observations about the weather, then shift to a story about how he almost got kicked out of his favorite coffee shop because of his constant “misunderstanding” of their rules. Or maybe he’d talk about his old life in Australia, how he missed the beach and how “everything was way less complicated” back there. Then, it would spiral into a tangent about a movie he watched the night before, then his latest argument with his brother, then—somehow—back to chemistry. But the thing was, he never actually focused on the work. Not for long, anyway.

You would sit there, your pen poised over your notes, trying your best to stay focused on the lesson. But it was hard. Jake would say something about how the electrons were “basically like the ‘bad boys’ of atoms” and you’d just stare at him, caught in the ridiculousness of his comparison. Or maybe he’d start talking about how much he hated the new gym teacher, complaining about how strict she was and how he’d “get so much more out of it if she just let him talk a little more.”

And the more he talked, the more you realized you weren’t really paying attention to the chemistry anymore. You were just… listening. Listening to him. Watching the way his eyes sparkled when he was excited about something, how his lips would curl into that mischievous grin whenever he said something he thought was hilarious.

He had this way of making everything seem like an adventure, even the most mundane details. His Australian accent, with just the right amount of smoothness and charm, mixed with his Korean roots, was oddly soothing. It felt like he was always on the verge of cracking a joke, but somehow, it didn’t get annoying. It was just… him.

Somehow, you found yourself unwinding in his presence, even though you should’ve been getting work done. His voice, the way he gestured wildly with his hands when he was making a point, the way his hair fell in just the right way over his forehead—it all made it hard to focus on anything but him.

There were moments when you found yourself completely still, watching him talk, completely lost in his energy. It was like you couldn’t even think of a way to look away. Every word that came out of his mouth felt like it mattered, even if it was nonsense about some random celebrity gossip or how he thought pineapple didn’t belong on pizza (which you didn’t even agree with, but you just nodded along, letting him talk).

But then there were the whispers.

You heard them the first time when you were sitting in the library, working on a group project with Jake nearby. A few girls were gossiping behind you, their voices too low for anyone else to catch but not too quiet for you. “Do you think they’re dating? They’re always together.”

“Yeah, they’re always hanging out. I bet she likes him.”

You didn’t want to react to it. Didn’t want to give any of it attention, but it lingered in the back of your mind. You’d heard things like that before. You and Jake were always together, weren’t you? You tutored him. You were partners in debate. Of course, people would talk. But hearing it out loud, hearing people wonder about something that wasn’t even close to being true—it made you uncomfortable.

But what bothered you even more was how Jake never seemed to notice it. He was always talking, always oblivious, always too busy to hear the gossip that followed you two. And in some way, that made you even more irritated. Maybe he had no idea how much people were watching, how much they were speculating.

Still, you pushed it to the back of your mind. It didn’t matter. You had bigger things to focus on—like your grades, like your future, like everything but Jake and whatever these people thought. But as you stared at him—at the way he leaned in, totally absorbed in some random story about his childhood in Australia, his voice carrying with that same mix of confidence and humor—you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he really looked.

It wasn’t just that he had the sharp jawline or the way his eyes always glinted when he talked, but it was the way he was so himself. He was loud, he was chaotic, and for some weird reason, it made him kind of irresistible. The way he didn’t try to fit into anyone’s expectations, the way he was always so… unapologetically Jake.

And in that moment, you realized that, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t listening to him talk just because he was your tutoring partner or your debate teammate. You were listening because you wanted to. You were watching him, not just because he was talking, but because you couldn’t stop.

So, as he kept on with his never-ending stories and distractions, you sat there, still. The work in front of you forgotten, your focus entirely on him. You didn’t know what you were thinking or how you’d gotten here, but all you knew was that the longer he talked, the harder it became to look away.

The night before the debate, you sat at your desk, staring at the empty pages in front of you. Your textbooks were open, but your mind was elsewhere—mostly, on how much you hadn’t done. You should’ve been preparing, memorizing points, going over counterarguments, reviewing the outline. But instead, all you did was sit there for hours listening to Jake yap about everything under the sun, from his favorite video games to how he thought the new coffee shop in town was overrated. He’d talk about the dumbest things, and you’d listen, because, well, you couldn’t escape it. The more he talked, the less you cared about the debate material.

The clock ticked by, and you realized, with a sinking feeling, that you were completely unprepared. The debate was tomorrow. Tomorrow.

You rubbed your face with both hands in frustration. You had barely touched the material. It was all just Jake’s voice in your head—his stories, his jokes, his random rants—filling the spaces where your preparation should’ve been. You had nothing. No solid points. No real arguments. Just a head full of Jake.

When the day of the debate finally arrived, you felt like you were walking into a battlefield completely unarmed. You tried to do a last-minute run-through of the main ideas, but it was useless. Every time you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but think about how Jake would be his usual loud, distracting self.

And sure enough, when Jake walked into the room where you were supposed to prep for the debate, he started up immediately. He wasn’t even five seconds in the door before he was talking.

“Yo, did you see the new episode of that show I was telling you about last week? It’s like they finally listened to the fans, you know?” he said, completely oblivious to the anxious look on your face.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the voice in your head screaming at you to focus. But it didn’t matter. Jake just kept talking. You barely even knew what he was saying anymore. His words were like background noise, a constant hum that made it impossible for you to concentrate.

“Jake!” you snapped, your patience snapping like a brittle twig. “Can you just stop for a minute?! I can’t even think with you yapping like that.”

He blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. “Whoa, what’s with the attitude?”

“What’s with your attitude?” you shot back, frustration bleeding into your voice. “I’m stressed, I’m unprepared, and all you do is talk! You’re making it worse. I’m trying to focus, but you won’t let me! I’m behind because of you!” You could feel the anger bubbling up from somewhere deep inside, everything you’d been holding in for so long now pouring out in one sharp burst. “You’re just so… annoying!”

The room fell silent, and you could feel the weight of everyone’s gaze on you. Jake’s eyes widened for the first time, and there was a moment of stillness. He blinked, and then his usual cocky grin was gone. Instead, there was something sharper in his gaze.

“I’m annoying?” he shot back, voice rising for the first time. “What about you, huh? All you do is sit there and act like you’re so perfect, but I’ve been doing everything I can to help, to talk to you—to be your friend—and you barely even try! You don’t even care that I’m here. I’m just trying to help, but you keep acting like I’m the problem!”

For the first time ever, Jake wasn’t the one rambling aimlessly. He was serious, his tone harsh, and it caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re not exactly all in either. So yeah, maybe I talk too much, maybe I annoy you—but at least I’m here, at least I’m trying!” His voice had a cutting edge to it. “You act like I’m dragging you down, but you never actually try to keep up. Maybe that’s why we’re behind. You’re never engaged, never focused. You don’t even care about this—you care about being annoyed.”

You were completely stunned into silence. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped, like everyone was watching a car crash in slow motion. The room was completely still.

Then, from the back of the room, someone muttered, “Oh my God, just kiss already.”

You whipped your head toward the voice, heart pounding in your chest. It was the debate coach, shaking his head with a grin that wasn’t even trying to hide how amused he was by the tension.

A couple of people snickered, others exchanged awkward glances. You and Jake stood there, staring at each other, caught in this strange, new atmosphere that neither of you were quite prepared for. The sudden attention was enough to make your face flush with embarrassment, but it also gave you the clarity you needed. You realized you’d both been playing this ridiculous game for weeks, but now—now it was out in the open. And for once, neither of you could pretend like everything was fine. The cracks were visible.

For a second, you didn’t know what to say. But Jake, with his usual awkward grin, broke the silence.

“Guess we better actually start preparing, huh?” he said, his tone lighter but still laced with that underlying tension. “If we’re gonna be partnered up like this, I mean.”

You nodded, your chest tight, unsure of what to think or say next. “Yeah.”

And with that, the moment passed, but everything had changed. The debate was tomorrow, but now, you were facing something completely different—the lines between frustration, annoyance, and something else were blurrier than ever.

The next day of the debate came and went faster than you expected. You had been so focused on trying to get everything together that you had barely noticed the time passing. Surprisingly, you managed to get through the entire thing without completely falling apart. You were organized, you were prepared—and you had actually done all the work. Jake, true to form, spent most of the time talking about his ideas and rambling off thoughts that barely made sense, but you had managed to rein it in, turning his chatter into something halfway coherent. It felt like the work you’d been avoiding for weeks had come to fruition in a single, intense hour of debate.

Somehow, you won. The team won. And despite Jake’s non-stop talking, despite his distractibility, you pulled it off.

When the results were announced, you tried not to show how much relief flooded your system. You glanced at Jake, who was looking as stunned as you felt. You had done it.

As you walked to your locker afterward, head down, trying to process the fact that you’d somehow survived, you heard hurried footsteps behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Jake’s voice was unmistakable.

“You did it,” he said, breathless, catching up to you with a wide, triumphant grin. “We actually won!”

You couldn’t suppress the small wave of pride that crested in your chest, but you didn’t let it show too much. It was just another task done, another hurdle cleared. You should’ve felt accomplished—but you couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that everything was just a bit too chaotic.

Jake, however, was absolutely beaming, his eyes sparkling with excitement, clearly over the moon. And then, without any warning, he reached out and wrapped his arms around you in an enthusiastic, almost too tight hug. His head rested briefly on your shoulder, and for a second, you froze. It was awkward. It was too much. You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, and it made your skin crawl, your stomach twist in discomfort. The kind of discomfort that made you want to shove him off, but you stayed still, not wanting to make a scene in the middle of the hallway.

“Seriously, I couldn’t have done it without you,” Jake said, pulling back, grinning widely.

You stepped back slightly, not sure what to do with yourself. “It’s fine. It was a team effort,” you muttered, trying to sound unaffected.

But then, just as you were about to turn back to your locker, you felt it—a tug at the corner of your lips. Before you could even process it, a small, involuntary smile crept onto your face. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there.

You hated to admit it, but that moment—the hug—felt different. It wasn’t just Jake being his annoying, talkative self. It was something else. You didn’t know how to categorize it, but a part of you didn’t mind it as much as you thought you would. That small, unwelcome smile lingered for just a moment longer before you cleared your throat and turned your attention back to your locker.

“Whatever,” you muttered, pushing your books into your bag. “It’s over. We won. Let’s leave it at that.”

Jake didn’t seem to mind your coldness. If anything, he seemed even more amused by it. “You’re always so chill,” he teased, nudging you with his shoulder. “You don’t show it, but I know you’re happy we won.”

You couldn’t help the tiny roll of your eyes, but you were smiling, even if it was just a little bit. It was strange. You didn’t want to get used to it, didn’t want to think about why you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. But there was no denying it. Something had shifted.

You just didn’t know what.

The next few days felt like a blur. The debate was over, and somehow, against all odds, you and Jake had come out victorious. But that victory didn’t change the fact that your tutoring sessions with him were far from smooth sailing. You were nearing the end of the two remaining sessions you had agreed to, and despite your best intentions to stay focused, it was like nothing had changed. Jake still showed up late, still launched into tangents the second he sat down, still had that never-ending need to fill every silence with his voice.

At first, you tried to keep your patience in check, tried to redirect him to the material. You even tried muttering a few “focus, Jake”s under your breath, but it wasn’t long before you gave up. You stopped trying to manage him. You let him talk. Let him yap. And, strangely enough, you didn’t mind anymore.

As he rambled on about his annoying Gen Alpha brother, how he kept stealing his clothes and breaking his gaming consoles, you didn’t even bother pretending to care. Your pen rested idly in your hand as you stared at the pages in front of you, letting the words flow in one ear and out the other. You caught yourself watching him instead. You noticed the way his hands moved when he talked, the way he always seemed to forget what he was saying halfway through, only to quickly come up with another topic. His lips, his eyes, the way he ran a hand through his hair when he was trying to find the right word—it was all so… familiar now. It wasn’t annoying anymore. It was just him.

You hadn’t realized how much you were just listening until the silence suddenly hit. Jake, for once, had stopped talking.

You glanced up, your gaze catching his, and you noticed something different in his expression. It wasn’t the usual easygoing grin or cocky smirk. It was something more subdued, more thoughtful. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The air felt thick with that kind of tension that usually accompanied an unspoken question.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jake asked suddenly, breaking the quiet with a soft laugh, though there was something almost vulnerable in his voice.

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. You hadn’t even realized you were staring.

“I—I wasn’t staring,” you muttered, suddenly aware of how hot your face was. But it didn’t matter, because you couldn’t look away. He was staring at you now, too. It was like a silent challenge, something you couldn’t quite place but felt undeniably real.

There was a brief silence as you both just… stared. Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke. You weren’t sure if it was because you were finally noticing something you hadn’t before, or because there was something you were both avoiding.

Finally, Jake broke the silence again, this time in a quieter tone. “You know, you don’t always have to pretend you don’t care about me, right?”

Your breath hitched at the unexpected words. For a moment, you thought about snapping something sarcastic, something to deflect. But then you realized that the words felt different coming from him. They didn’t carry the usual teasing lilt. They were softer. Almost… uncertain.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for the first time in weeks, you were struck by the thought that maybe you didn’t have all the answers. Maybe it wasn’t just Jake talking anymore. Maybe it was something else entirely. Something you didn’t quite know how to handle. You stared at him for another moment, the words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but all you could do was swallow them back down.

Instead, you just nodded, a simple acknowledgment. “Yeah. Maybe.”

And with that, the moment passed. Jake’s grin slowly returned, and you both fell back into the rhythm you had known so well. He resumed his rambling, but this time, you didn’t fight it. You just… listened.

The tutoring session had ended, and you packed up your things with the usual methodical precision, still processing everything that had happened. Jake was nowhere to be seen, probably chatting with someone or off doing something else, as he always did. You stood in front of your desk, organizing your notes, trying not to think about how strange the last hour had felt. It was different than usual—less frustrating, maybe even a little… comfortable? But you weren’t ready to unpack that yet.

As you gathered your things, you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside the classroom. You glanced up, spotting Sunoo, who was leaning casually against the doorframe, waiting for Jake. He gave you a quick smile, but it didn’t last long before he turned his attention back down the hallway.

“Hey, you,” Sunoo called to Jake as he appeared in the doorway. “Ready to go for your early birthday dinner?”

Jake waved him off, flashing a quick grin. “Yeah, yeah, just a second. I gotta grab my stuff,” he said, his voice distracted.

Sunoo crossed his arms, leaning back into the doorframe and flashing a mischievous grin. “You’re awfully distracted today. Been talking to Y/N a little too much, huh?”

Jake froze, almost imperceptibly, and glanced back at Sunoo with a raised brow. “What?” he asked, faking innocence, but the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

Sunoo’s grin only grew wider, clearly teasing now. “I don’t know, man. You’ve been acting… different. Like, every time I see you after tutoring, you’re all smiley and weird. What, do you like her or something?”

Jake’s expression shifted, and for a brief moment, he looked almost… unsure. He glanced down at the floor, his hands in his pockets, but then he looked up at Sunoo with a small, almost sheepish grin.

“I think I do,” he murmured softly, just enough for Sunoo to catch the words, his tone quieter than usual.

Sunoo’s eyes widened slightly, his lips curling into a smile. “Oh? Ohhhh, so that’s what’s going on.” His voice was light, but his eyes held a knowing gleam. “You might wanna figure that out, man.”

Jake’s response was lost in a brief moment of hesitation, but he didn’t argue. He simply gave a small shrug. “Let’s just go, alright? We’ll talk later.”

Sunoo nodded, clearly still amused, and without missing a beat, he turned back toward the hallway. Jake followed him, and as they walked down the corridor, they began chatting about something else entirely, and the sound of their voices faded as they made their way toward the stairs.

You, however, had been too busy packing your things to hear anything more than a few quiet words exchanged between them. You didn’t catch what Sunoo had said. You didn’t hear the soft confession that Jake had made to him.

For you, the moment passed like everything else—leaving you to continue your life with no idea that something had shifted between you and Jake.

The next day, when Jake showed up for tutoring, something was different. It wasn’t the usual loud, chaotic energy he brought into the room, the constant stream of words that filled every quiet space. Today, he was quieter—not the usual loud, distracted Jake, but something more… subdued. He still had that confident, easygoing aura, but he wasn’t talking just for the sake of talking. It was almost like he was holding back, like he had something on his mind but wasn’t sure whether to say it.

You glanced up from your notes when he sat down across from you, his eyes a little more focused, but there was something in the way he was fidgeting with his pen that made you feel like he wasn’t entirely present. It wasn’t the normal Jake you’d gotten used to—the one who would drop a random fact or ask a weird question out of nowhere. He was… different today. Still there, but quieter. Almost as if he was waiting for something.

For a while, the two of you just worked in silence. You, flipping through your notes, trying to make sense of everything you were supposed to know for the upcoming test. Jake, scribbling away on his homework, but it was clear his mind wasn’t entirely on the assignment.

Finally, after what felt like a long stretch of silence, Jake cleared his throat.

“Hey, so, um…” he started, his voice a little hesitant, an unfamiliar shift in his tone. You looked up from your paper, sensing the change in his demeanor. He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting around the room, before meeting your gaze. “I was wondering… you know, my birthday dinner is tonight, and, uh… well, I thought maybe you’d want to come.”

You blinked at him, surprised. It wasn’t like Jake to ask you directly about something personal, and even more so, it was strange that he was asking you to join him at his birthday dinner. You weren’t the type for parties. You didn’t even like them, to be honest. You preferred quiet nights, your routine, your space.

“I… I don’t really do parties,” you replied, shrugging slightly, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I’m not really into big social gatherings.”

Jake, however, wasn’t deterred. His eyes softened, and you could see that he wasn’t about to drop it that easily.

“Come on,” he said, his voice taking on a playful, almost pleading tone. “It’ll be fun! Just for a little bit. You don’t even have to stay long, I promise. It’s just a small dinner with my friends… and… you know, I kind of want you to be there.”

His words caught you off guard, more than you’d like to admit. Jake, being the charismatic guy he was, didn’t beg. He wasn’t the type to be earnest about stuff like this. But now, with that small, almost shy grin on his face, and the way he was looking at you—almost like he was unsure of how to convince you—it was hard to say no.

You felt the tug of guilt. You knew he was just asking because he wanted you to be there—maybe even needed you to be there—and it was difficult to shake that thought.

“I really don’t know…” you started, but before you could finish, Jake jumped in, his voice becoming more determined.

“Please, Y/N,” he said, his eyes bright with that familiar spark. “Just this once. I swear I’ll make it worth your while. You can even leave early if you want. But, uh, it’d really mean a lot to me if you came.”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair, feeling the pressure of his request weighing on you. It was just one night, one dinner. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

You let out a sigh, caving in. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Jake’s grin lit up, and you could practically see the relief flood through him. “Yes!” He immediately sat up straighter, looking way too pleased with himself. “It’s going to be fun. I promise. I’ll make sure it’s not boring.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips, despite yourself. “Alright, alright, I’m going. But don’t expect me to stay long.”

Jake chuckled, nodding enthusiastically. “Deal! I’ll make sure it’s short and sweet.”

And with that, the air between you two lightened once more. You could still feel that odd shift in the way Jake was acting today, but you pushed it to the back of your mind for now. You had given in, and you’d show up.

After all, it was his birthday.

You had no idea what to get Jake. You’d spent the last two hours walking around the mall, looking at store after store, trying to figure out what someone like him would even want. Jake was… well, Jake. He was loud, unpredictable, and always seemed to have everything figured out. He had everything you could think of: clothes, gadgets, sneakers—there was nothing obvious that you could buy him. You didn’t know him well enough to pick something meaningful, and you couldn’t just pick up something random and hope it worked. What did a guy like him even like?

Your mind raced, and as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself getting more and more frustrated. You checked your watch—two hours until his birthday dinner, and you still had nothing. Your phone buzzed with a reminder: “Get something for Jake!”

I’m trying, okay? you thought, shoving the phone back into your bag.

You had already bought a new top, a light pink short-sleeve shirt, hoping to look cute but not overdo it. It was casual, but still nice enough for dinner. You’d paired it with a simple white skirt—something you could move comfortably in, without feeling overdressed. You even styled your hair, which was rare for you. It felt like too much effort, but for some reason, today, you actually wanted to look… well, pretty. You wanted to look like you had at least tried.

But as you walked through the mall for the second time, your energy started to wane. The buzz of the crowd, the brightly lit stores, and the overwhelming number of options were draining. You stopped in front of a display with colorful mugs and keychains, wondering if maybe something small and quirky would be the right choice. But as you picked up a keychain shaped like a gaming controller, you immediately put it back. No way.

You checked your watch again. You had no time to overthink it anymore. You just had to pick something.

Ugh, why is this so hard?

You felt yourself getting more and more exhausted with every step. Your feet ached from walking so much, and the pressure of getting Jake’s gift just right was starting to eat at you. You glanced down at your outfit. The light pink shirt and white skirt felt okay—cute enough, but what if it was too much for a casual dinner? What if it was too little? You sighed, shaking your head.

You were halfway across the mall now, eyes scanning the stores around you, when you spotted a small boutique tucked in a corner. Maybe, just maybe, there would be something in there. You took a deep breath and walked toward it, hoping this wouldn’t be another disappointment.

You had no clue what Jake really wanted. You didn’t know what was cool for a guy like him. But you were determined to figure it out.

You just hoped you wouldn’t have to walk around the mall for another hour.

As you walked through the boutique, your mind kept wandering back to Jake’s offhand comment a few days ago. You remembered him telling you, between rants about his annoying little brother and his hectic school life, about his dog, Layla. His eyes had softened as he talked about her—there was something about the way he spoke that told you just how much he missed her.

“She’s a Border Collie,” Jake had said, smiling wistfully. “Back in Australia… She’s a good dog, always hyper and, like, way smarter than me. I swear she knows exactly what I’m thinking half the time. I miss her a lot.”

You remembered the way his voice had trailed off, as if the thought of his dog—so far away now—was too painful to fully dive into. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But now, as you browsed through the small boutique, the memory of his words stuck with you.

The shop was full of delicate trinkets, little charms hanging from gold and silver chains. You walked past a display case filled with bracelets, each more charming than the last. Your fingers grazed the edges of the glass as you looked over them, and that’s when something caught your eye. A simple bracelet—gold, with a tiny charm hanging from it.

It was small and delicate, but the charm was unmistakable. The letter “L” was etched into the metal, accompanied by a small, detailed charm shaped like a dog’s paw. A Border Collie’s paw, if you looked closely enough.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit you. The bracelet was perfect. It wasn’t too flashy, just subtle enough that it wouldn’t draw too much attention, but meaningful. A little nod to Layla, Jake’s dog—something that would remind him of home and the bond he shared with her.

You felt a small smile tug at your lips as you gently picked up the bracelet, your fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the letter “L”. It felt right. The weight of it in your hand seemed to settle all the nerves that had been gnawing at you for the past few hours. This was the gift. You didn’t need to search anymore.

For a brief moment, you found yourself imagining Jake’s reaction—his face lighting up when he saw it, maybe a little surprised, maybe even touched. You thought back to the way he had looked when he mentioned Layla, and you could almost hear the fondness in his voice. It felt like the right thing to do.

With a small sigh of relief, you walked up to the counter and paid for the bracelet, feeling a sense of satisfaction that you hadn’t expected. It wasn’t some grand gesture, but you were pretty sure it would mean something to him.

You hoped it would be enough.

You arrived at the restaurant a little later than expected—traffic had been a nightmare. Your phone had buzzed multiple times, notifications from Jake, probably wondering where you were, but you’d been too caught up in the mess of cars and honking horns to reply. By the time you walked through the doors, you were sure you were the last person to arrive.

The restaurant was buzzing with the chatter of diners, the smoky smell of sizzling meat hanging in the air. As your eyes scanned the room, you immediately spotted Jake, sitting at a table with a couple of unfamiliar faces. You didn’t recognize them at first, but they were laughing and talking comfortably, clearly already deep into their meal. Sunoo and Jay were there too, sitting beside Jake, looking over at you as you approached.

Jake caught your eye right away. He straightened up, but when he saw you, there was a small flicker of surprise that crossed his face, followed by a look of relief. He had probably assumed you weren’t coming.

“Oh, hey! You made it!” he called out, his voice bright and welcoming, as if he hadn’t been quietly wondering where you’d been all this time.

The two unfamiliar faces turned their attention to you. One was a tall guy with sharp features and a friendly smile, the other a girl with short hair and an easygoing demeanor. They both looked at you, curious but polite. It was clear that they didn’t expect you to be showing up at all, and when they saw you, their expressions turned into warm but surprised greetings.

“Ah, you’re here!” the tall guy said with a smile, waving you over. “We thought you weren’t going to make it.”

You smiled awkwardly, shrugging a little as you made your way to the table. “Yeah, traffic was terrible. Sorry I’m late.”

Jake slid over, making room for you next to him, his usual grin back in full force. “No problem,” he said. “Come join us. This is Minho,” he pointed to the guy, who gave you a friendly nod, “and this is Jisoo,” he pointed to the girl, who smiled warmly. “They’re both friends from my class.”

You sat down, grateful for the space they’d made for you, and immediately noticed that Sunoo and Jay seemed more interested in you than they had before. They were watching you closely, but trying not to be obvious about it. Sunoo, of course, was already smirking, and Jay seemed just as relaxed as usual, giving you a wink as you settled in.

“Glad you could join us,” Jay said, his tone playful. “We were starting to think Jake might have to eat all the food by himself.”

Jake rolled his eyes, clearly used to their teasing. “Shut up, Jay. I’m not that bad.”

The mood around the table lightened as the conversation shifted to something else, but you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place with these new faces. It was Jake’s birthday, and it felt like you were crashing a party with his closest friends. You knew you were just there for dinner, but it was still a little strange to be sitting with people you hadn’t really spoken to before.

Still, you didn’t mind the warmth in the air. The laughter from the others, the clink of chopsticks against the grill, and Jake’s usual boisterous energy made the whole experience feel easier than expected. It wasn’t so bad. Maybe this would end up being fun, despite everything you had thought going into it.

And for a second, you even forgot the pressure of being there at all. You were just… part of the group.

As the night wore on, the conversation around the table flowed easily, with Jake and his friends joking, laughing, and digging into the sizzling Korean BBQ. You were starting to relax, the initial awkwardness melting away with every bite of meat and every passing moment. The more you watched Jake, the more you couldn’t help but smile. He was clearly enjoying himself, surrounded by his friends, his laughter ringing out across the table.

At some point, when the meal had slowed down a bit and everyone was lounging back in their chairs, you realized it was time.

You reached into your bag, your fingers brushing the small box that held Jake’s gift. You’d been holding onto it since the moment you bought it, unsure of the best moment to give it to him. The thought of handing it over felt a little nerve-wracking, but something in you told you it was the right time.

Jake was leaning back in his chair, talking with Minho about some new video game, and you noticed how relaxed he looked—like the weight of school and everything else was lifted off his shoulders for the moment. You bit your lip, then stood up from your seat, drawing a few curious glances from his friends.

“Jake,” you called quietly, your voice just a bit more hesitant than you intended. He looked up, meeting your gaze, and you saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes as you walked toward him.

“Hey,” you started, feeling your heart rate pick up just a little. “I, uh, I got you something.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this. His face lit up in that usual mischievous grin. “Oh? What is it? I wasn’t expecting a gift, you know.”

You handed him the small box, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. “Well, I know it’s not much, but… I thought you’d like it.”

Jake paused for a moment, looking down at the box in his hands. There was a flicker of curiosity in his expression as he carefully untied the ribbon and opened it. His eyes scanned the bracelet inside, the charm catching the light, and for a moment, he just stared at it, quiet.

“Layla,” he murmured, almost to himself. “This… this is perfect. How did you—?”

You watched him closely, noting the softness that appeared in his eyes. For the first time that night, he seemed genuinely touched. His grin softened as he looked up at you, a little sheepish, as if he hadn’t expected you to notice how much he missed his dog.

“I talked about her, didn’t I?” Jake said, his voice low but with a light chuckle, his fingers gently tracing the letter “L” and the dog charm. “You really listened.”

You shrugged a little, feeling that familiar awkwardness creep back up, but you didn’t mind as much. “I guess… I remember you saying how much you missed her. I thought it’d be a nice way to remind you of home.”

Jake’s smile grew wider, and for a second, it was like his usual confident self was replaced with something softer, something realer. He met your eyes, and for the briefest moment, the playful tension that always hung between you two seemed to fade.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “This means a lot to me. Honestly.”

You nodded, unsure of what else to say. His reaction had caught you a little off guard, but it was good to see him this way—appreciative, genuine.

As the evening continued, the gift was set aside, but you could see Jake glance at it now and then, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. You didn’t need anything more than that—a small, unexpected connection, and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, things between the two of you weren’t as complicated as they seemed.

At least, not always.

As the night went on, the laughter and chatter continued, and soon, the attention shifted toward the cake. It was a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, something you figured Jake probably enjoyed. His friends had all gathered around it, their voices rising in excitement as they prepared to sing. The lights dimmed slightly, and the room filled with the sounds of birthday cheers and the soft hum of the group’s collective enthusiasm.

“Happy birthday to you!” they all sang, their voices blending together in cheerful harmony. Everyone except you, that is.

You stood at the edge of the group, quietly observing. You had no interest in singing along—maybe it was the awkwardness of being around people you didn’t know very well, maybe it was just because you preferred to keep to yourself. Either way, you didn’t sing. Instead, you simply stood there, clapping softly along with the others, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched Jake. His eyes were bright with amusement, a wide grin stretching across his face as he blew out the candles, making a wish you could only guess at.

Jake was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice your quiet distance, but his friends did. Sunoo shot you a look, his usual teasing expression now replaced with something softer, a slight curiosity in his eyes. You didn’t really care though; you had no intention of drawing attention to yourself.

When the song finished, everyone clapped and laughed, and Jake’s friends immediately dug into the cake, passing pieces around. You took a small plate, accepting your slice with a polite nod, but you stayed quiet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be part of the celebration, it was just… you didn’t really know how to navigate it all. Being around Jake’s friends, people you barely knew, in the middle of this cheerful scene—it all felt like too much sometimes.

Jake caught your eye for a split second, noticing how you’d stayed quiet through the whole thing. But instead of teasing you or asking why you weren’t singing, he just gave you a small, genuine smile. It wasn’t the usual loud grin you were used to, but something different—a quiet understanding.

You felt a warmth spread through you, something unspoken between the two of you in that brief moment. But then, the moment passed, and Jake was already moving on to joke with Minho, and you were back to standing off to the side, quietly watching the rest of the party unfold.

You may not have been the loudest or the center of attention, but in that moment, you were fine with that. You didn’t need to be. You had the soft smiles, the quiet nods, and the connection that had been slowly building with Jake. And that was enough for now.

As the night went on, the laughter and chatter continued, and soon, the attention shifted toward the cake. It was a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, something you figured Jake probably enjoyed. His friends had all gathered around it, their voices rising in excitement as they prepared to sing. The lights dimmed slightly, and the room filled with the sounds of birthday cheers and the soft hum of the group’s collective enthusiasm.

“Happy birthday to you!” they all sang, their voices blending together in cheerful harmony. Everyone except you, that is.

You stood at the edge of the group, quietly observing. You had no interest in singing along—maybe it was the awkwardness of being around people you didn’t know very well, maybe it was just because you preferred to keep to yourself. Either way, you didn’t sing. Instead, you simply stood there, clapping softly along with the others, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched Jake. His eyes were bright with amusement, a wide grin stretching across his face as he blew out the candles, making a wish you could only guess at.

Jake was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice your quiet distance, but his friends did. Sunoo shot you a look, his usual teasing expression now replaced with something softer, a slight curiosity in his eyes. You didn’t really care though; you had no intention of drawing attention to yourself.

When the song finished, everyone clapped and laughed, and Jake’s friends immediately dug into the cake, passing pieces around. You took a small plate, accepting your slice with a polite nod, but you stayed quiet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be part of the celebration, it was just… you didn’t really know how to navigate it all. Being around Jake’s friends, people you barely knew, in the middle of this cheerful scene—it all felt like too much sometimes.

Jake caught your eye for a split second, noticing how you’d stayed quiet through the whole thing. But instead of teasing you or asking why you weren’t singing, he just gave you a small, genuine smile. It wasn’t the usual loud grin you were used to, but something different—a quiet understanding.

You felt a warmth spread through you, something unspoken between the two of you in that brief moment. But then, the moment passed, and Jake was already moving on to joke with Minho, and you were back to standing off to the side, quietly watching the rest of the party unfold.

You may not have been the loudest or the center of attention, but in that moment, you were fine with that. You didn’t need to be. You had the soft smiles, the quiet nods, and the connection that had been slowly building with Jake. And that was enough for now.

As the party wound down, the once lively chatter began to dwindle. People filtered out one by one, bidding Jake a cheerful goodbye, some slinging playful goodbyes as they waved. Sunoo and Jay were the last to leave, both of them giving Jake a ruffle of the hair and teasing him about the night. Sunoo shot you a wink as he passed by, but you simply nodded, offering a polite smile.

Once they were all gone, the atmosphere in the room shifted. It wasn’t as loud or chaotic anymore. The music had turned down low, the cake had been mostly eaten, and the remnants of a once-bustling party now sat quietly on the table—empty cups, a few crumpled napkins, and the last of the leftover snacks scattered about.

Jake, who had been the life of the party just moments ago, was now sitting back on the couch, looking at his phone. He was alone now, too—save for you, still sitting at the edge of the room, sipping on your drink, having not really said much in the last hour.

You weren’t sure why you stayed. You could’ve easily made up some excuse and slipped out when the others did. But something made you linger, almost as if you didn’t want to leave just yet. Maybe it was the quietness of the room, or maybe it was the fact that it felt like, for once, the two of you didn’t have to be anything. You didn’t have to talk loudly, you didn’t have to keep up with the jokes or banter. You could just… be.

Jake looked up from his phone, catching your eye as you sat there, lost in your thoughts. For a moment, neither of you said anything. There was just the soft hum of the room, the quiet after all the noise.

“Everyone’s gone, huh?” Jake finally said, his voice breaking the silence. He was leaning back, his expression more relaxed than you’d seen all night. He didn’t look as animated or hyper now—just like a normal guy, unwinding after his celebration.

“Yeah,” you said softly, looking around the room. “Looks like it.”

Jake sat up, shifting to face you more directly. There was something different in the way he looked at you now—maybe it was the quiet of the room, or maybe the night was winding down, but you could tell he wasn’t just looking at you as his study partner or the girl he’d been tutoring with. There was something… more there. Something unspoken, lingering between the two of you.

“You didn’t really join in much, did you?” Jake asked, a bit of a teasing edge to his voice, though it wasn’t as lighthearted as it had been earlier. His gaze softened a little as he spoke. “You’re not really the party type, huh?”

You shrugged, not quite meeting his gaze. “Not really.”

There was an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn’t the same kind of tension that had existed before. It was quieter—almost understanding. You could tell Jake wasn’t pushing you, but he was curious, trying to figure you out, in his own way.

“I get it,” he said after a pause, leaning back into the couch again, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. “I’m not exactly a fan of huge crowds either. But… I’m glad you came.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You just nodded, offering him a small smile.

It was strange, being here with just him. After all the noise, the laughter, and the teasing, it felt like the two of you were in your own little world now—just the quiet of the room and the soft thrum of unspoken words between you.

“So,” Jake said, breaking the silence again with that familiar lopsided grin, “what now?”

You weren’t sure what to say. There was something almost comfortable in the way you were sitting there, not needing to fill the air with words. So, you just shrugged, still quietly smiling.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “Maybe we just… hang out a little longer?”

Jake’s grin softened into something more genuine as he leaned forward, stretching his arms out. “I like that idea.”

The night stretched on, but you weren’t in any rush to leave. For once, you didn’t mind the silence, and you didn’t feel like you needed to say anything more than what had already been said.

It wasn’t anything grand or dramatic. But, for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were exactly where you needed to be.

The streets were quiet as the two of you walked side by side, the hum of the city’s nightlife echoing in the distance, but the air around you felt peaceful. The kind of peaceful that happens when the world around you seems to disappear, leaving just the two of you walking in comfortable silence.

You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten. The hour had slipped away quietly between small conversations and moments of quiet. Now, here you were, walking in the cool night air, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the sidewalk.

Jake had been unusually quiet on the walk back. Normally, he’d be talking non-stop about something—something random, something funny, or something that caught his attention. But tonight, there was a strange silence hanging between you two, and you couldn’t quite place why.

When you reached the corner of your street, where you usually split off from each other, Jake stopped walking. You kept going for a couple of steps before realizing he wasn’t beside you anymore. Turning, you looked back at him, confused.

“Jake?” you asked, your voice softer than usual.

He was standing there, his hands shoved into his pockets, staring down at the ground for a moment, clearly thinking. There was an air of uncertainty about him—something you weren’t used to seeing in Jake. Normally, he was so sure of himself, so loud and unbothered by what people thought. But now? He looked almost… nervous?

“Hey,” he began, his voice low and hesitant. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I… I’m not really good at saying this kind of stuff,” he continued, his words stumbling a bit as if he was choosing each one carefully. “But, uh, I guess I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And I don’t know how to say it without sounding… well, like an idiot, but…” He paused again, running a hand through his hair, his gaze now focused on the ground.

You stood there, not sure what to say. The tension in the air was thick, and suddenly, the simple walk home felt a little heavier.

“I like you,” Jake finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at you again, his face a little flushed, his expression uncertain. “I don’t know when it happened, or why, but… I think I do.”

For a moment, you were silent, your mind racing. Your heart skipped a beat. You had no idea how to respond. The words caught in your throat, and you stood there, staring at him, not sure whether to speak or just… let the silence settle.

Jake’s gaze shifted as the seconds ticked by, clearly waiting for you to say something. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The shock was too much, and the weight of his confession was suddenly overwhelming.

He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly unsure of how to handle the silence between you two. “I know this is… unexpected,” he continued, his voice a little more rushed now. “And I know we’ve had our moments, but… I just had to tell you. I couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t there.”

You felt your pulse quicken, your breath caught in your chest. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond, or what this meant for the two of you. The shock of his confession left you speechless. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel something for him—something you hadn’t quite figured out yet—but this? This was unexpected. It threw you off.

You wanted to say something, anything, to fill the silence. But all you could manage was a quiet exhale, standing there frozen as you processed the weight of his words.

Jake didn’t seem to know what to do either. He ran a hand through his hair again, and the tension in his posture told you just how uncomfortable he felt now. “You don’t have to say anything,” he added quickly, almost too quickly. “I just wanted you to know. I—yeah. I think that’s all.”

The silence stretched on, and you could feel the weight of his confession still hanging in the air. You wanted to respond, but nothing seemed right. What were you supposed to say to something like that?

After a moment, Jake shifted uncomfortably again, looking like he regretted saying anything at all. “Uh, I’ll let you go,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost as if he was trying to avoid looking at you. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He turned to leave, but you didn’t move. You stood frozen, your mind still racing, trying to process the fact that Jake—loud, talkative, always so confident Jake—had just told you something that you hadn’t been prepared for.

He stopped for a moment and turned back slightly, glancing at you. “If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there, alone in the cool night air, trying to figure out what had just happened.

You didn’t move for a while. You just stood there, caught in the whirlwind of emotions that his confession had stirred up. What now?

The next day, you didn’t show up to school. The quiet, anxious feeling from Jake’s confession still lingered, and you didn’t want to face anyone, especially him. You needed time to process it all, to figure out how to even act around him after what he’d said. But despite not being there, somehow, Jake had passed his test. It didn’t make sense to you, considering how little you had actually done in your tutoring sessions. But then again, you didn’t really understand how Jake operated.

Your phone buzzed with messages from him—texts that you ignored. You weren’t ready to respond yet. The last thing you wanted to deal with was his incessant talking, not after last night. But despite your silence, Jake kept trying to reach you.

And then, there he was, standing at your front door.

You weren’t expecting him to show up at your house, especially not after everything that had happened. But there he was, standing awkwardly on your porch, looking at you with an apologetic expression.

“Y/N, hey,” Jake started, his voice quiet but still carrying that familiar nervous energy. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about what I said yesterday, and I figured I should apologize. I’ve been trying to text you, but I guess you didn’t get them…”

You didn’t know how to react. The last thing you wanted was him here, standing in front of you, talking to you about something that had been running through your mind over and over again. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could do was stand there and blink, lost for words.

“Jake,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. It felt odd saying his name out loud, like your thoughts had finally caught up with the reality of the situation.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jake continued, his words rushing out like they always did. “I mean, I didn’t want to mess things up, and I thought maybe—”

“Jake!” you interrupted, your voice a little sharper now, unable to handle the constant stream of words he was throwing at you.

He froze for a moment, blinking at you in surprise, clearly not expecting you to snap at him like that. “Sorry,” he said, giving you a sheepish smile, but still not stopping. “I just… I just thought maybe we could talk it out, you know? I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or—”

Before he could finish, you stepped forward, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him towards you. You didn’t even think about it, you just did it. And then, before he could say another word, you kissed him.

It was a quick kiss, but it felt like everything—like all the thoughts you had been too scared to say and all the confusion you had been carrying suddenly just dissolved. You pulled away just as quickly, your breath uneven, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jake was silent for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re so noisy,” you said, your voice softer now, but with a certain sharpness behind it. It was the first time you’d said anything since he’d shown up, and it felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

He blinked at you, clearly processing what had just happened. And for the first time in the entire conversation, Jake was silent. There was no rambling, no endless chatter. Just the quiet between the two of you, filling the space in a way that felt… right.

“I—” he started, but then, he stopped, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Guess I deserved that.”

You didn’t say anything else. You just stood there, feeling a little calmer now, a little more grounded. Jake had finally quieted down, and somehow, you felt like things might just be okay.

You stood there for a moment, your pulse still racing from the kiss, unsure of what to do next. Jake, however, didn’t seem to notice your hesitation. His eyes sparkled with that usual energy of his, though there was something different in them now—something softer.

“So… does this mean you, like, like me back or something?” he asked, his voice a little too hopeful, but still managing to sound just a little bit teasing.

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could get a word out, he continued, rambling as always. “I mean, I get it if you don’t know yet, and we can take things slow, but I just—”

You couldn’t take it anymore.

Without thinking, you grabbed his face, pulling him toward you again, and kissed him. This time, it was longer, deeper, more deliberate. You didn’t let him talk, just focused on the feeling of his lips against yours, trying to silence the chaos in your own mind that had been building for days. When you pulled away, both of you breathless, you finally managed to speak.

“Shut up, Jake,” you said, your voice low but firm, as you pulled back slightly and gave him a pointed look.

Jake blinked, clearly stunned for a second, but then that familiar grin spread across his face again. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know whether to be mad or flattered right now.”

You just gave him a small smirk in response. “Maybe you should be both.”

The teasing glint in his eyes was back. “Guess I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then?”

You rolled your eyes and stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. “Come inside, Jake. We need to talk about what’s going on here… after you stop talking for five minutes.”

Jake grinned wider. “That’s a big ask, but I’ll try my best.”

You raised an eyebrow, leading him inside. “Good luck with that.”

Once inside, you motioned for Jake to sit down on the couch. He shuffled in, still grinning like an idiot, looking at you with that same mischievous gleam in his eyes. You sat down on the opposite side, trying to create some space, but it wasn’t doing much to cool the heat you could still feel between you two.

Jake plopped down, still practically bouncing on the couch. “So, does this mean I get to talk now, or…?” he trailed off, his gaze mischievous as ever.

You sighed and rubbed your temples, trying to stave off the inevitable flood of words that was about to come. “You can talk, Jake, but just—” You paused, unsure of how to phrase it. “Just listen for a second. Let’s figure this out, okay?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll try to be quiet,” he said, though his grin suggested he wasn’t sure he could actually pull it off.

You took a deep breath, trying to sort through your thoughts. “I don’t know what this is yet. I don’t know what it means, and I’m still figuring things out… but you’re really distracting, you know that?”

Jake blinked, looking a little surprised at your admission. “Distracting? How?”

You shot him a half-smile. “You talk non-stop. You’re loud. You’re… everywhere. And honestly, I didn’t know how to handle it, especially after last night.” You paused. “But, I also don’t mind it… when you’re not talking about something completely random.”

Jake, for the first time in forever, sat still. His usual energy seemed to fade just a little, and he looked at you carefully, like he was actually trying to understand what you were saying. “You don’t mind me being loud?”

You shook your head. “No. Well, sometimes. But not always.” You sighed again, rubbing your forehead. “It’s just… you have this way about you. I don’t know. I didn’t expect any of this.”

Jake leaned forward, a bit more serious now, his eyes softening. “You’re kind of making me blush here,” he said, a small laugh escaping his lips. But there was no teasing in his voice this time, just a genuine warmth that made your chest tighten slightly.

You tilted your head, studying him. “I’m just trying to be honest. It’s hard to keep up with you sometimes, Jake. But I… I guess I’ve been keeping up with you more than I thought. And now, I don’t know what to do with it.”

He leaned back on the couch, his posture softening, as if he was absorbing your words. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m good at keeping up with you, then.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling, but now it wasn’t just his usual grin—it was a soft, genuine smile, like he was letting you see the real him. “I think so.”

The air between you two wasn’t as tense anymore, and that uncomfortable feeling you’d had since his confession seemed to slowly fade away. There was something calming about the way Jake was looking at you now, no longer rambling on about random things, but just being present with you.

“Alright,” you said, the corner of your mouth twitching upward. “But I still think you talk way too much.”

Jake chuckled, his grin returning. “You don’t mind,” he said, teasing, but with that same sincerity behind it. “And besides, you’ll get used to it.”

You stared at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I guess I will.”

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t neatly tied up in a bow. But it was something—something between the two of you that felt like it could be the start of whatever came next.

The next day, you didn’t show up to school. The quiet, anxious feeling from Jake’s confession still lingered, and you didn’t want to face anyone, especially him. You needed time to process it all, to figure out how to even act around him after what he’d said. But despite not being there, somehow, Jake had passed his test. It didn’t make sense to you, considering how little you had actually done in your tutoring sessions. But then again, you didn’t really understand how Jake operated.

Your phone buzzed with messages from him—texts that you ignored. You weren’t ready to respond yet. The last thing you wanted to deal with was his incessant talking, not after last night. But despite your silence, Jake kept trying to reach you.

And then, there he was, standing at your front door.

You weren’t expecting him to show up at your house, especially not after everything that had happened. But there he was, standing awkwardly on your porch, looking at you with an apologetic expression.

“Y/N, hey,” Jake started, his voice quiet but still carrying that familiar nervous energy. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about what I said yesterday, and I figured I should apologize. I’ve been trying to text you, but I guess you didn’t get them…”

You didn’t know how to react. The last thing you wanted was him here, standing in front of you, talking to you about something that had been running through your mind over and over again. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could do was stand there and blink, lost for words.

“Jake,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. It felt odd saying his name out loud, like your thoughts had finally caught up with the reality of the situation.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jake continued, his words rushing out like they always did. “I mean, I didn’t want to mess things up, and I thought maybe—”

“Jake!” you interrupted, your voice a little sharper now, unable to handle the constant stream of words he was throwing at you.

He froze for a moment, blinking at you in surprise, clearly not expecting you to snap at him like that. “Sorry,” he said, giving you a sheepish smile, but still not stopping. “I just… I just thought maybe we could talk it out, you know? I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or—”

Before he could finish, you stepped forward, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him towards you. You didn’t even think about it, you just did it. And then, before he could say another word, you kissed him.

It was a quick kiss, but it felt like everything—like all the thoughts you had been too scared to say and all the confusion you had been carrying suddenly just dissolved. You pulled away just as quickly, your breath uneven, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jake was silent for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re so noisy,” you said, your voice softer now, but with a certain sharpness behind it. It was the first time you’d said anything since he’d shown up, and it felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

He blinked at you, clearly processing what had just happened. And for the first time in the entire conversation, Jake was silent. There was no rambling, no endless chatter. Just the quiet between the two of you, filling the space in a way that felt… right.

“I—” he started, but then, he stopped, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Guess I deserved that.”

You didn’t say anything else. You just stood there, feeling a little calmer now, a little more grounded. Jake had finally quieted down, and somehow, you felt like things might just be okay.

You sat there, quiet, the stillness between you two finally feeling like something that made sense. Jake shifted on the couch, his usual energy still present, but there was something different about it now. A softness.

“Oh, and,” he said suddenly, almost shy, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “I forgot to tell you yesterday… you looked really pretty.”

You blinked, a little surprised. You hadn’t expected him to say that. You didn’t even know how to respond. You weren’t used to compliments, and you weren’t about to start talking a lot now. Instead, you just looked at him, mildly flustered.

He seemed to notice your silence and rushed to explain, his words tumbling out. “I mean, you look good every day, obviously, but yesterday, I don’t know—there was something about you. Maybe it was just the way you were dressed? You know, the pink shirt and everything? It really suited you, and I just thought you looked… I don’t know, different. But in a good way.” He shrugged, his grin widening as he looked at you. “You know what I mean?”

You were quiet for a moment, processing. Finally, you managed to smile slightly, not really knowing how to express what you were thinking. “Not every day, though,” you said quietly, the words barely above a whisper.

Jake, of course, didn’t seem to notice the hint of teasing in your voice. He was still going on about what he’d said, completely oblivious to your quieter response. “Yeah, but like, I mean—wait, did I say not every day? I didn’t mean it like that! You always look good, but yesterday—well, you know what I mean, right?” He paused, but when you didn’t immediately reply, he launched right back into it. “I guess it was just that moment, like, when I saw you yesterday… you had this vibe, this energy. I don’t know if I can explain it, but it just felt like you were different than the usual, like, I don’t know, more confident or something, and—”

You stopped him with a small shake of your head, still not saying much. You just couldn’t keep up with his constant talking, but at this point, you were used to it. It was just Jake being Jake.

You were content to sit quietly, letting him talk, even if you were barely following along. It was weirdly comforting, though. You didn’t need to speak, not with him around. He always had something to say, and it felt natural, like a part of your routine.

“So, anyway,” Jake continued, looking at you eagerly as though he was expecting some sort of reaction. “I was just thinking about it all, and then, I realized, maybe we could do the tutoring at your place instead of school? You know, less distractions, and, well, I know school can be kind of loud, but your place would be more chill, don’t you think?”

You barely registered his question, too caught up in the quiet hum of your own thoughts. You didn’t feel like speaking much today, not after everything. You were still figuring things out. But you nodded slightly, agreeing.

You gave him a brief glance, finally deciding to offer something to the conversation. “Maybe. But you’ll still talk the whole time.”

Jake laughed, his voice still full of that energy you were so used to by now. “I can’t help it! I mean, I’ve got so much to say, you know? I just like… talking. I like hearing myself talk,” he added with a grin, making you roll your eyes slightly.

You didn’t speak for a while after that. Instead, you just stared at him quietly, watching him go on and on. Honestly, you didn’t mind. It was like this every time you were together. You didn’t have to fill the space with words because Jake was always happy to do it for you.

“So, uh, same time tomorrow for tutoring?” Jake asked after a while, his eyes expectant as he looked at you.

You blinked, taking a moment to consider it. You had no intention of speaking much, as usual. But you gave a small nod. “Sure,” you whispered, feeling a tiny bit of tension leave your shoulders.

Jake smiled brightly, already moving to start talking again, but you stopped him with a look. He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly confused.

“You really don’t stop, do you?” you muttered softly, shaking your head just a little.

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, you cut him off. “Fine, we’ll do tutoring at my place. But only if you talk less,” you said, your voice quiet, but with a small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

Jake blinked in surprise. “Wait, really? You’re agreeing? I thought you’d—”

“Yeah, well, you’re not going to shut up if I don’t,” you said with a shrug.

Jake let out a loud laugh, but he nodded. “Alright, alright. I’ll try my best. But no promises.”

You just gave him a small, quiet smile, the kind that said you didn’t really mind at all. You were used to him talking. You didn’t have to say much, and that was enough for you.

Jake, of course, wasn’t done yet. He continued talking, but you didn’t mind. You were happy with the silence of just being around him, listening to him speak while you kept your thoughts to yourself. It was like this every time. And maybe, just maybe, you were okay with it.

The next tutoring session came, and you couldn’t help but notice how much it had become part of your routine—Jake talking non-stop, and you sitting there, quietly listening, occasionally breaking into a smile or soft laugh when he said something that was just too ridiculous.

You had been staring at him again, your eyes tracing the way his hands moved as he tried to explain something he barely understood, and how his hair always fell into his face when he leaned forward in his chair. He wasn’t the best at math—if you were being honest, he barely understood half of it—but his enthusiasm made it… bearable.

“And then,” Jake was saying, gesturing wildly with his pen, “if you… wait, no, that’s not right. I meant—uh, okay, so this is just like that time when my brother messed up the barbecue, right?” He was halfway through explaining something entirely unrelated to the subject at hand when he paused and caught your gaze.

You were staring at him again, your eyes narrowing slightly as you tried to focus, but you couldn’t help it. Something about him was just so… distracting.

“What?” Jake asked, looking a little sheepish. “You think I’m being ridiculous again?”

You just giggled softly, shaking your head. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Jake grinned, leaning back in his chair, not at all fazed by the fact that he was constantly derailing your tutoring sessions with random anecdotes. “Yeah, I know. But you still like it, don’t you?”

Your eyes flicked away for a moment, a faint blush creeping up your neck as you tried to hide your smile. “You’re lucky I’m a good tutor,” you muttered under your breath, though the teasing tone didn’t quite cover up the warmth you felt.

“Ha! I knew it!” Jake pointed at you, practically jumping out of his chair. “You’re laughing! I’m winning!” He flopped back into his seat, satisfied with himself.

You couldn’t help but giggle again, trying to cover your mouth but failing miserably. His infectious energy was impossible to ignore, and you didn’t even want to.

The conversation veered off track again, and you found yourself caught up in his rambling, but this time, you didn’t mind. You didn’t feel the need to speak much. You just listened, occasionally laughing or shaking your head, all the while staring at him.

For once, it wasn’t frustrating. It wasn’t just noise. It was… nice. A quiet kind of chaos that you were starting to get used to.

The session ended with you both finally making a little progress on the homework, even if most of it had been distracted by Jake’s usual stream of consciousness. As you packed up your things, you realized that the time had passed quicker than you’d expected, and you didn’t want it to stop. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind the talking as much as you thought.

“Same time tomorrow?��� Jake asked, still talking a mile a minute, but this time, you didn’t feel the need to shut him up.

You looked at him, giving a small smile, and just nodded.

“Fine,” you said quietly. “But try to get some work done, kay?”

Jake grinned widely. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh softly again, watching him grin and talk a little too much as you walked out of the room together.

I love jake sm bro | req open - masterlist | read part two here

[simjaexy]

𝙐𝙣𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮 | 𝙋.𝙅.

Pairing — Crush Best Friend! Park Jongseong x (F) Reader

Synopsis — You’ve always had a crush on Lee Heeseung ever since he gave you a note, also considering the fact he was one of the most popular boys in school. Considering being popular yourself, you just can’t seem to get his attention no matter what you do. So you decide to fake date Jay, Heeseung's best friend, to get Heeseungs attention. Despite thinking that Jay hates you, you go along with the plan, hoping that Heeseung will finally notice you. As the charade progresses, you found out Heeseung is attracted to people who are experienced. However, you’re a virgin. So why not ask Jay to take your virginity? No feelings will be involved, right?

Genre — Smut, High School au, Angst, Fluff

Warnings — MINORS DNI!!!, Cursing, Partying, One sided love, Crying, Drinking, Miscommunications, Jealousy, Break ups, Misunderstanding, Lying, Eating out, Breath play, Grinding, Hickeys, Slow sex, Phone sex, Fingering, Jerking off, Dirty talk, Humiliation, Overstimulation (f), Dom! Jay x Sub! Reader, Missionary, No protection (wrap it up), Aftercare, Receiving (m&f), Jealous sex, Making out, Doggy style, Spanking, Hair pulling, Orgasm Control, Rough sex, Name calling (Good girl, Babe, etc.), Choking, Multiple orgasms, Breeding kink, Blowjob, lmk if I missed any!

W.c — 16.8k

A/n — I had to rewrite so many of this because I wasn’t satisfied but I finally finished it! I never made a fic that has more than one sex scene so bear with me on that ^^ If you would like to be on the perm tag list, click here! Like, reblog, comment, etc.! Hope you enjoy! Not proofread!

Masterlist here!

The school courtyard was buzzing with energy as students milled about, chatting and laughing. You, being one of the popular students, were used to the attention and the constant buzz around you.

Today, however, felt different. You decided to take a moment for yourself and sat down on one of the benches, enjoying the brief respite from the chaos.

As you were scrolling through your phone, lost in your own world, a shadow fell over you. Looking up, you saw a guy you vaguely recognized from one of your classes. He was holding something in his hand, and he looked a bit teasing.

"Hey," he said, shifting from foot to foot, “This is for you."

You raised an eyebrow, curious, “From who?"

He pointed across the courtyard, and your eyes followed his gesture. There, standing with a group of his friends, was Lee Heeseung, one of the school's star basketball players. He was tall, with an athletic build, and a smile that could light up a room. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his appearance. He was undeniably attractive.

The guy handed you a small envelope and quickly walked away, leaving you to process what had just happened. You looked down at the envelope, your curiosity piqued. Opening it, you found a simple note inside:

Hey, I noticed you sitting here and thought you might like this.

You glanced back at Heeseung, who was now looking your way. When your eyes met, he gave you a small, confident smile and a nod. You felt your cheeks heat up, and your heart leaped in your chest. You gave him back a shy smile and waved. It wasn't every day that someone like Lee Heeseung noticed you, let alone sent you a note and a candy bar.

For the rest of the day, you couldn't get Heeseung out of your mind. His smile, the way he carried himself, and the fact that he had gone out of his way to send you a note – it all made your heart race. You found yourself looking forward to seeing him again, wondering if there might be more to this unexpected connection.

That happened about a month ago. Now, you’re still here waiting for him to make a move, and yet he hasn’t. You thought he was just a shy guy which was probably why he gave you a note, but you smiled back at him. So wouldn’t that give him a hint?

You were sitting in the library, deeply engrossed in your studies. The upcoming exams were looming over you, and you wanted to make sure you were fully prepared. The library was quiet, with only the soft rustling of pages and the occasional whisper breaking the silence. You were so focused on your work that you didn't notice Kazuha approaching until she was right beside you.

“Hey, are you going to the bonfire this weekend?" Kazuha asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You looked up from your books, a bit surprised by her sudden appearance, “I wish I could, but I can't," You replied, sighing, "I have so much to study for, and I really need to focus."

Kazuha pouted, clearly disappointed, "Come on, you need a break! You've been studying non-stop. Plus, it's going to be so much fun. Everyone's going to be there!"

You hesitated, knowing she was right. You had been pushing yourself hard, and a little break wouldn't hurt. But the thought of falling behind on your studies made you nervous, "I don't know, Kazuha. I really need to do well on these exams."

Kazuha wasn't giving up that easily. She leaned in closer, her eyes pleading, “Please? Just for a few hours? You deserve to have some fun too.”

Seeing your hesitation, Kazuha pressed on, “Come on, it'll be great. You can study all you want after the party. Just think about it – a chance to finally talk to Heeseung!"

You sighed, feeling the weight of your decision, "Alright, fine. I'll go to the bonfire," You said, finally giving in, "But only for a little while."

Kazuha's face lit up with joy, "Yes! You won't regret it, I promise. It's going to be amazing."

As the weekend approached, you found yourself getting more and more excited about the bonfire. You spent extra time picking out an outfit, hoping to make a good impression. When the night of the party finally arrived, you felt a mix of nerves and anticipation.

The bonfire was located at the beach. The ocean flowed softly together as the moon shone over the people. There was loud music playing and it was filled with people dancing and laughing. You scanned the crowd, looking for Heeseung. After a few minutes, you spotted him sitting down at the bonfire, talking to a group of friends.

You jumped when you suddenly felt hands around your arms, “You made it!” Kazuha squealed. You gave her a chimed smile.

“I did.” You replied. She grabbed your arm and took you to the bonfire where Heeseung was sitting and sat you across from him.

“I’ll be right back! Here’s a drink.” She said. She gave you a red cup and walked past people, disappearing into the crowd.

You sipped your drink as you scanned the faces illuminated by the flickering flames. Your eyes landed on Heeseung, who was sitting across from you, engrossed in a conversation with his friends. Despite the noise and the number of people around, he hadn’t seemed to notice you.

You decided to just look for Kazuha. You maneuvered through the crowd, your eyes scanning for Kazuha. The salty breeze carried the scent of the ocean, mingling with the smoky aroma of the bonfire.

As you rounded a corner, your attention momentarily diverted by a burst of laughter, you collided with someone. Your drink splashed out of your cup, drenching the front of a pristine white shirt. You looked up, your heart sinking as you recognized the face glaring down at you. It was Jay, and he did not look pleased.

"Watch where you're going," He snapped, his voice laced with irritation as he wiped at the damp stain spreading across his shirt.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "Maybe you should watch where you're standing," You retorted, matching his tone with an edge of your own. It wasn't the first time you'd clashed with Jay, and it seemed like he always had an attitude with you.

Jay's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening, "Just be more careful next time," He said curtly before turning away, leaving you standing there with a mix of frustration and confusion.

As you walked away, you couldn't help but wonder why Jay always seemed to have it out for you. He was your crush's best friend, after all, and you couldn't understand why he always seemed so annoyed whenever you were around.

The thought lingered in your mind, adding a layer of complexity to the evening's events. The bonfire continued to burn brightly, but your thoughts were clouded with questions about Jay and his inexplicable attitude towards you. And how the hell Heeseung is friends with him.

You finally spotted Kazuha near the edge of the ocean, chatting with a few friends. Relief washed over you as you approached her, still feeling the sting of your encounter with Jay. Kazuha greeted you with a bright smile, but it quickly faded when she saw the look on your face.

"What's wrong?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, "I'm just going to head home, Kazuha. Heeseung isn't paying any attention to me, and I just had a run-in with Jay. It's been a rough night."

Kazuha frowned, shaking her head, "No way, you're not leaving yet. I have an idea." Her eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, and before you could protest, she grabbed your hand and started pulling you back towards the bonfire.

"Kazuha, what are you doing?" You asked, trying to keep up with her determined pace.

"We're going to play Spin the Bottle," She announced loudly as you both reached the group. The chatter around the fire died down as everyone turned to look at her, "Come on, it'll be fun!"

You sighed, knowing there was no arguing with Kazuha when she got an idea in her head. Reluctantly, you sat down in the circle forming around the bonfire. Your eyes scanned the faces around you, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jay sitting next to Heeseung. He had thrown a flannel over his stained shirt, but you could still see the remnants of your drink on the fabric.

Jay's gaze met yours for a brief moment, and you quickly looked away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. Heeseung, oblivious to the tension, seemed excited about the game, his smile lighting up the night.

As the bottle was placed in the center and the first spin began, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread and anticipation. As you glanced at Kazuha, her encouraging smile gave you a bit of comfort.

The game of Spin the Bottle was in full swing, and you watched as the bottle spun and landed on different people around the circle. Laughter and cheers filled the air each time someone was chosen, but so far, the bottle hadn't landed on you. You tried to keep your cool, but the anticipation was starting to get to you. Kazuha, sitting beside you, noticed your growing unease and gave you a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, your turn will come," She whispered.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bottle slowed and came to a stop, pointing directly at you. Your heart raced as all eyes turned to you. Before you could react, Kazuha stood up and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.

"Okay, since I started the game, I get to choose who she kisses!" She declared. A chorus of groans and protests erupted from the group.

"That's not fair!" Someone shouted.

"You can't just make up rules!" Another voice chimed in.

Kazuha held up her hands to calm everyone down, "Come on, it's just one time. Let me have this," She pleaded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Reluctantly, the group quieted down, and Kazuha turned to you with a knowing smile.

"I choose Heeseung," She said triumphantly. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked over at Heeseung. He met your gaze, and you saw a smirk slowly spread across his face. For a moment, you thought he was going to stand up and come over to you, but then he turned his head and looked at Jay.

"Actually, I think Jay should do it," Heeseung said, his voice filled with amusement.

The entire circle fell silent, and you could feel the shock ripple through the group. Kazuha's mouth fell open, and you were just as stunned. Jay, sitting next to Heeseung, looked equally surprised, his eyes wide as he glanced between you and Heeseung.

"Uh, what?" Jay stammered, clearly caught off guard.

Heeseung's smirk grew wider, "You heard me. Go ahead, Jay."

You felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you—confusion, embarrassment, and a strange sense of curiosity. Jay didn’t stand up and it seemed like forever.

Kazuha immediately tried to interject, "No, Heeseung, I really think—"

But before she could finish, Jay stood up abruptly, "I'll do it," He said firmly, cutting her off. The determination in his voice shocked everyone, especially you. Your heart pounded in your chest as Jay walked towards you, each step making you more nervous.

As Jay got closer, you could feel your palms getting sweaty. The room seemed to close in around you, and your mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Just as he was leaning in, his eyes locked onto yours, you felt a surge of panic. You couldn't do this.

Without thinking, you bolted up from your seat and ran from the scene. You heard Kazuha calling your name, but you ignored her, your feet moving faster than ever. You pushed through other group of people and sprinted to your car, fumbling with your keys in your haste. Finally, you unlocked the door, jumped in, and slammed it shut behind you.

Sitting in the driver's seat, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous to kiss Jay. Maybe it was because of the incident? You weren’t sure as you started your car and drove him.

As you drive home, the city lights blur past your window, casting a warm glow inside your car. The hum of the engine is a comforting background noise, and you find yourself lost in thought about the day's events. The streets are quiet, and you feel a sense of calm as you pull into your driveway.

Once inside, you kick off your shoes and head straight to your room. As you settle down, you notice a missed call from Kazuha. You quickly dial her back, and she picks up almost immediately.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kazuha’s concerned voice comes through the line.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You reply, though your mind is still racing, “I just didn’t know what to do.”

Kazuha sighs softly, “Jay didn’t seem mad that you left, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You pause, biting your lip, “Why would Heeseung want Jay to kiss me, though?”

“I don’t know,” Kazuha admits, “Heeseung seemed normal about it, but he left after a while.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you, “Thanks, Kazuha. I’m just going to head to bed now. Talk tomorrow?”

“Of course. Goodnight,” She says.

“Goodnight,” You reply, ending the call. You lie down, thoughts still swirling but feeling a bit more at ease. Tomorrow is a new day. You close your eyes, anticipation and confusion bubbling within you as you drift off to sleep.

The next morning, you wake up with a mix of excitement. After a quick shower, you pick out a cute but comfortable outfit, knowing you'll be out for a while. As you're finishing up, you get a text from Kazuha saying she's on her way to pick you up for a shopping trip.

When Kazuha arrives, you hop into her car, and you both chat about random things on the way to the mall. The mall is bustling with people, and the two of you dive into various stores, trying on clothes and laughing at some of the more outrageous fashion choices.

After a couple of hours, you both decide to take a break and stop at a cozy coffee shop. As you sip on your drink, Kazuha turns to you with a serious look.

“So, are you ever gonna shoot your shot with Heeseung?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

You sigh, stirring your drink absentmindedly, “I don’t know how to get closer to him.”

Kazuha taps her chin, then suddenly her eyes light up, “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you fake date someone close to him? That’s like one of the top things people do.”

You blink, processing her suggestion, “Who?”

Kazuha rolls her eyes at your cluelessness, “Jay, duh.”

You choke on your drink in shock, staring at her, “I can’t ask that of Jay after that incident!”

Kazuha just shrugs, “Why not? You talk to Jay the most out of Heeseung’s friends.”

You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed, “Jay hates me.”

Kazuha leans back, a smirk playing on her lips, “He was gonna kiss you either way. Just try.”

You sit there, thinking about it. The idea is crazy, but maybe it’s just crazy enough to work. You glance at Kazuha, who’s watching you expectantly, and nod slowly, “Okay, I’ll try.”

Kazuha grins, and you feel a flutter of anticipation. You weren’t sure if this stupid plan was gonna work, but as Kazuha says, she’s always right.

After spending the day shopping and chatting with Kazuha, you finally head back home, bags in hand and a lot on your mind. Kazuha's words echo in your head: "Just try." You can't help but think about how crazy the idea is, but a part of you is curious about what might happen if you actually went through with it.

As you flop onto your bed, you decide to check your phone. There's a message from Kazuha with a link to Jay's Instagram. Your heart races as you open the app and see his profile. You feel a wave of nervousness wash over you, but you remember Kazuha's encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you decide to go for it. You hit the follow button and then, with trembling fingers, you start typing a message.

l/n.y/n: Jay, are you single?

You type, wincing at how blunt it sounds. But it's too late to back out now. You hit send and toss your phone aside, feeling a mix of dread and anticipation.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes. You pick it up and see a notification from Instagram. It's a message from Jay. Your heart pounds as you open it, wondering what his response will be.

js_park_: What do you want

You pouted at his bluntness. This was gonna be harder than expected. You decided to just go along and get it over with.

l/n.y/n: I need your help. Like really bad. This may come out weird to you, but I need you to fake date me cause I have a crush on Heeseung and he just doesn’t seem to notice me and since your a good friend of his I was hoping you would go along with it. Once he likes me back you don’t have to talk to me at all or even see my existence! So what do you say?

He read it almost immediately making your heart skip a beat. About a few seconds later he responded back.

js_park_: I’d see you all the time then if you date Heeseung. So no.

You groaned stressed out. He was making this way to hard for you. You knew you couldn’t ask any of his other friends. Jake’s taken, and Sunghoon just straight seems like he doesn’t want no fake dating or a real relationship. You tried to think of another idea. That’s when you suddenly remembered something. You quickly texted back urgently.

l/n.y/n: I’ll get you that guitar you’ve been talking about in class.

js_park_: Cost a lot of money, but if you insist. So when are we starting?

You pumped your fist up in victory. You decided to just start as quick as possible and texted him the details.

l/n.y/n: Tomorrow. Pick me up first thing in the morning and we NEED to show PDA. I don’t like it either but if we need to get Heeseung attention then that’s what we should do. Oh and also, no kissing.

js_park_: Or, we could exchange numbers instead of texting here? It’s weird.

You rolled your eyes.

l/n.y/n: [xxx-xxx-xxxx]. That’s my number.

js_park_: Alright, text you tomorrow.

l/n.y/n: 👍

Seen

You took a deep breath in and out. All you have to do is just show PDA. Nothing too serious. And besides, no kissing will be involved, so you have nothing to worry about. Right?

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing. Still groggy, you reach over and grab it, expecting to see Kazuha's name on the screen. Instead, you're surprised to see Jay's name flashing. Confused, you answer the call.

"Hello?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

"Hey, where do you live?" Jay's voice comes through the speaker, sounding wide awake and slightly amused.

“Jay? What?" you ask, still half-asleep and trying to make sense of the situation, "It's early," You add, glancing at the clock. It's barely past dawn.

"Yeah, I don't know if you knew, but I have morning basketball practice," He replies sarcastically, making you smile despite your confusion.

"Oh, right," You say, suddenly remembering, "Uh, my address is [123 Address Name]."

"Great, I'm on my way," He says before hanging up.

You sit up in bed, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. Realizing you don't have much time, you quickly get dressed, throwing on your uniform and running a brush through your hair. Just as you're finishing up, your phone buzzes again.

Jay: I'm here.

You take a deep breath and head outside, finding Jay's car parked in front of your house. You walk over and open the passenger door, sliding in.

"Morning," You say, still a bit dazed but excited.

"Morning," Jay replies with a grin, "Ready to start the day?"

You nod, giving him a tired smile. Jay starts the car, and you both drive towards the school. The early morning streets are quiet, and the sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow over everything. You can't help but feel a little nervous but also excited about this unexpected start to your day.

When you arrive at the school, Jay parks the car, and you both get out. He leads the way to the gym, where you can already hear the faint sounds of basketballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking on the court. As you enter the gym, you see some of Jay's teammates warming up and chatting.

Jay turns to you with a teasing smile, "So, are you gonna give me a hug goodbye?" He asks, clearly enjoying your embarrassment.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you step forward and give him a quick hug. As you pull away, you hear Jake's voice ring out, "Since when did you guys start dating?"

You glance over and see Jake looking at you both with wide eyes, and Heeseung is there too, watching intently along with the rest of the team. You quickly say goodbye to Jay, avoiding Jake's question.

"Bye, babe," Jay says jokingly, earning a narrow glare from you before you turn to leave.

As you walk away, you hear Jake ask Jay again, "Seriously, dude, what's going on?"

Jay just pats Jake's shoulder with a knowing grin, "Don't worry about it," He says, leaving Jake and the others looking dumbfounded as he jogs over to join the rest of the team for practice.

You walked to the school doors, your heart racing with embarrassment. The plan to make Heeseung notice you has officially begun, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what will happen next.

Later that day, you finally have a class with Jay. As you both settle into your seats, you decide to fill him in on the rest of your plan.

"So, here's the deal," You begin, pulling out your schedule, "These are my classes, and I need you to walk me to each of them."

Jay groans, leaning back in his chair, "Do I really have to do all of that?"

"Yes," You insist, "I pass by Heeseung a lot between classes, and he'll definitely notice if we're always together."

Jay rolls his eyes but eventually relents, "Whatever," he mutters, clearly not thrilled but willing to go along with it.

As the class begins, you find it hard to focus. Your mind keeps drifting to the plan and how it might play out. Will Heeseung really notice? And if he does, will he care? You glance over at Jay, who seems more interested in doodling in his notebook than paying attention to the lecture.

Despite his nonchalant attitude, you can't help but feel grateful that he's willing to help you out, even if it means going through the motions of fake dating.

The rest of the class passes in a blur as you continue to mull over your thoughts. By the time the bell rings, signaling the end of the period, you've resolved to stick to the plan and see it through. You gather your things and look over at Jay, who gives you a small nod.

"Ready for the next class?" He asks, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Yeah," You reply, feeling a renewed sense of determination. As you both walk out of the classroom holding hands, you noticed a lot of students whispering and looking at you guys. This was gonna be a lot tougher than you thought.

Jay walks you to your next class, and just as you're about to enter, you spot Heeseung walking past. Your heart leaps when he gives Jay a friendly smile. Then, Heeseung looks at you, and for a moment, everything seems to slow down. He nods, and you manage to return a nervous smile, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

Jay leaves with a casual wave, but not without giving a knowing smirk. You rolled your eyes and headed into the classroom, still replaying the brief interaction with Heeseung in your mind. You try to focus on your work, but your thoughts keep drifting back to that smile and nod. It feels like a small victory, a sign that your plan might actually be working.

When the bell rings, you gather your things and head to the cafeteria for lunch. You spot Kazuha sitting at your usual table and quickly make your way over to her.

"Hey, Kazuha," You say, sliding into the seat across from her. "You won't believe what just happened."

She looks up from her phone, curiosity piqued, "What happened?"

You recount the events of the morning, from Jay walking you to class to the moment with Heeseung. Kazuha listens intently, her eyes widening in surprise.

"I'm shocked Jay actually followed through," She says, shaking her head in disbelief.

You laugh, “Yeah, well, he's doing it for a guitar. But I'm definitely going to get on his nerves with this."

Kazuha chuckles, "Just make sure you don't drive him too crazy, We still need him for the plan."

You nod, feeling a bit more confident, "Don't worry, I won't. But I have to admit, it's kind of fun seeing him so annoyed."

As you both continue to chat and eat lunch, you feel a sense of anticipation building. The plan is in motion, and with a little luck, Heeseung will notice you more and more. For now, though, you're just glad to have Kazuha by your side, sharing in the excitement and uncertainty of it all.

After school, you meet up with Jay, so he can drive you home. As you settle into the passenger seat, Jay starts talking about a party Jake is hosting that night.

"Hey, there's a party at Jake's tonight. Do you want to come?" Jay asks casually, glancing over at you.

Before you can answer, he adds, "Heeseung is gonna be there."

Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly say, "Yes, I'll come."

Jay nods, a small smile playing on his lips, "Great. I'll pick you up at eight."

He drops you off at your house, and you head inside, already thinking about what to wear. Knowing you take a while to get dressed, you decide to start getting ready right away. As you rummage through your closet, you text Jay to ask if Kazuha can come too. A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with his reply.

Jay: Sure, she can come.

You feel a bit more at ease knowing your friend will be there. You call her up and tell her and she says she’ll be there.

After what feels like an eternity of trying on different outfits and experimenting with your makeup, you finally settle on a look that makes you feel confident. Just as you finish, you hear a car horn outside.

You grab your things and head out to find Jay waiting for you. He looks up as you approach, and you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"Do I look okay?" You ask, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

Jay gives you a once-over and nods, "You look fine," He says, though there's a hint of something more in his tone.

You smile, feeling a bit reassured, and hop into the car. As Jay drives to the party, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. Tonight could be a turning point in your plan, you could only hope.

You and Jay finally make it to the party, and it's packed with people. The music is loud, and the atmosphere is electric. As you step inside, you see Jake making his way over to you. He dabs up Jay and then turns to you with a big smile.

"Glad you guys made it!" Jake shouts over the music.

You smile back, feeling a bit more relaxed. Jay suggests getting some drinks, and you follow him to the kitchen. As you chat and sip on your drinks, you suddenly spot Kazuha across the room. You wave her over and give her a big hug when she reaches you.

"Where's Heeseung?" Kazuha asks, glancing around.

You shrug, genuinely not knowing. Jay chimes in, "He might be in the living room."

"I'll go see," You say, eager to find him.

You make your way through the crowded house, but there's no sign of Heeseung in the living room. Just as you're about to turn back, you bump into someone. You look up and see Heeseung standing right in front of you.

"Oh, hey," He says, looking a bit surprised, "Where's Jay?"

"He's in the kitchen," You reply quickly. Then, thinking on your feet, you add, "I was just trying to get some fresh air.”

Heeseung nods and says, "Follow me."

Though you're unsure, you decide to follow him. You glance back, knowing Jay and Kazuha are waiting for you, but curiosity gets the better of you. Heeseung leads you through the house, and you can't help but wonder what he wants to talk about.

Heeseung leads you through the house, weaving past groups of people until you reach a quiet balcony. He gestures for you to go out first, and you step into the cool night air. Heeseung follows and sits down on one of the chairs, and you take a seat next to him.

He takes a sip of his drink and then looks at you, "So, what made you wanna date Jay?" He asks, his eyes searching yours.

You feel a pang of nervousness but manage to lie smoothly, "Oh, you know, he was always a handsome guy. And because we had a connection with the class we both chose, and it just felt right."

Heeseung hums thoughtfully and takes another sip of his drink, “Have you and him already had sex?" He asks casually.

You choke on your drink, coughing a bit before managing to say, "No, no, we haven’t."

He chuckles softly, "I knew it."

Confused, you look at him and ask, "Why do you say that?"

Heeseung leans back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips, “Because," He begins, "I can tell when Jay has sex with someone, he gets more clingy to them if you know what I mean. And to you, he stays quite far, and yet almost close. Unless, you’re a virgin and taking it slow?"

Your heart races as you try to process his words. The plan you and Jay concocted to make Heeseung notice you seems to be unraveling right before your eyes. The night air feels colder, and the anticipation of what Heeseung said hangs heavily between you.

But not only were you thinking that, you were also thinking about Heeseung referring you as a virgin. Which, he is not wrong. You are a virgin, and you aren’t really proud to say that in front of him for some reason. You couldn’t help but question wether Heeseung liked virgins. So, you decided to fuck it and ask.

“Do you like virgins?” You questioned, your voice tinged with curiosity. Heeseung averts his gaze to you. His narrow eyes making you nervous, but he just scoffed.

“They’re alright. I guess it could be exciting in bed, teaching them what to do. But I prefer an experienced person. Because they know what they're doing in bed, and that’s a turn on.” He replied. You felt your mouth parting. Heeseung liked experienced people. And you were nowhere near experienced. You haven’t even had your first kiss.

You slowly nodded your head, “That's interesting.” You muttered and sipped your drink.

Heeseung let out a low chuckle, “So are you a virgin?”

You gulped harshly and stared down. You felt the air getting hotter and that’s when you decided to just lie, “No. I already had sex with someone.”

Heeseung whistled and leaned in closer to you, “L/n Y/n already had sex? Wonder who if it’s not Jay.” He joked. You let out a nervous laugh.

Before you could say something else, the glass door slid open revealing Jay. He catches you and Heeseung on the balcony, his eyes narrowing slightly, "I've been looking for you," He says, his gaze shifting between you and Heeseung, “Am I interrupting something?"

Heeseung smirks at you before standing up, "No, not at all," He replies smoothly, "I'll leave you two alone." With that, he walks back inside, leaving you and Jay alone on the balcony.

You remain quiet, the weight of the conversation with Heeseung still fresh in your mind. Jay looks at you with concern, “Are you okay?" He asks gently.

You force a small smile and nod, "Yeah, I'm just tired. I think I want to go home."

Jay nods understandingly, “Okay, let's go."

You both make your way back through the house, saying goodbye to your friends. You stop by Kazuha and tell her, "I'll text you when I get home."

She nods and waves, "Drive safe!"

As you and Jay get into the car, the silence feels heavy. Jay starts driving, and you suddenly blurt out, "Jay, about Heeseung..."

He glances at you briefly before focusing back on the road, "What about him?"

You hesitate, unsure of how to express the confusion and emotions swirling inside you. The plan to make Heeseung notice you has taken an unexpected turn, and you're not sure if you can ask Jay a personal question. You finally took a deep breath and faced Jay.

“Can you take my virginity?”

Jay slams the brakes, causing the car to jolt to a sudden stop. He stares at you in shock, his eyes wide, “What?" He says loudly, making you flinch.

You take another deep breath and repeat, "Can you take my virginity?”

Jay takes a moment to process your words, then tells you, "Wait a second." He pulls over to the side of the road and turns to face you fully, "What's wrong? What did you and Heeseung talk about?"

You bite your lip and explain everything to him—the plan to make Heeseung notice you, the unexpected feelings that surfaced, and the confusion you're feeling now. Jay just stares at you, taking it all in. He sighs deeply and says, "You should wait for the right person."

You shake your head, feeling a surge of determination, "I want it to be with you, Jay."

Jay thinks for a long minute, his expression serious. Finally, he asks, "Are you sure?"

You nod confidently, "Yes."

"When?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Today," You reply firmly, "Come inside my house."

Jay takes a deep breath and starts the car again. The drive to your house is filled with a charged silence, both of you processing the gravity of what was just said.

As you pull into your driveway, you feel a mix of nervousness. Jay parks the car and turns to you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, you both step out of the car, heading to your door.

Jay follows you inside your house, and you both take off your shoes and jackets, placing them neatly by the door. Jay glances around and asks, "Before we do anything, is your mom home?"

You shake your head, "No, she's on a business trip."

Jay nods, seeming to relax a bit. "Are you thirsty?" You ask, trying to break the tension.

He shakes his head, "No, I'm good."

You lead him up to your room, and he takes a moment to examine it, looking at the posters on the walls and the books on your shelves. You sit on your bed, feeling the weight of the moment.

Jay turns to you and asks, "Have you changed your mind at all?"

You look him straight in the eyes and say firmly, "No."

Jay nods, taking a deep breath. The room is filled with a charged silence, the air thick with anticipation. He moves closer, sitting beside you on the bed, his expression serious and thoughtful.

“You said no kissing, right?” He asks. You slowly nodded your head, but his lips did look kissable right now.

“Then this is gonna be somewhat awkward then.” He admits. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck.

“J-Just start somewhere, please.” You whisper. Jay cursed and wrapped his hands firmly on your waist. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to do something.

You gasped when you suddenly felt his soft lips on your neck. It started off slow, his lips moving along your neck, giving it pecks here and there. You leaned your head more back to grant him access.

You felt his lips form a grin before he opened his mouth and gave you a gentle bite on your neck, giving it a soft suck. You let out breathy sighs feeling him getting a bit harsher and pushed you back. His lips never leave your neck.

He sucked all around your neck and jaw. You wrapped your legs around his waist and bucked. He let out a growl and pushed your hips back making you whine. He faced you and lowered his eyes to your lips that were parted. God, did he want to make them plump and red.

Instead of doing it, he went to your chest and kissed it. He slowly traced your back before unzipping the back of your dress. You felt nervous and urgent, lifting yourself up a bit to let your dress come off. You took the straps off revealing your bra and underwear.

You shyly bit your finger as Jay stared. You couldn’t help but feel his eyes wandering around your whole body like hands. He suddenly lifted a hand to fondle with your breast making you let out a gasp and eyes closed shut. His other hand rubbing your cloth core.

You moaned and squirmed against his hold, trying to get away, but he held you down.

“Just relax pretty.” He whispered in your ear. You nodded your head although your breathing was saying otherwise. Jay felt your wet pussy clenching around nothing making him chuckle. You really were urgent.

He unclasped your bra revealing your perky breasts. He leaned down and flicked his tongue against one of your breasts causing you to grip his soft jet black hair, “ah- jay!” You cried out.

The flicking soon turned into sucking harshly. You snaked, not knowing what to do yourself. He gave attention to the other one by fondling it.

Your breathing was ragged and breathless. Your eyes were teary, and he didn’t even put his dick in yet. You guessed you now knew what Heeseung meant by experienced people who are better in bed.

Jay lets go of your breast and leans over your cloth pussy. He planted soft kisses and put your legs over his shoulders, pulling you softly against his body. He moved your panties to the side revealing your slick pussy. You tried to close your legs in embarrassment, but he forced them back open.

“Don’t be shy now. You wanted this, remember?” He teased. You let out a quiet whine. It all went too fast when you suddenly felt a hot wet sensation licking your pussy slow. Your eyes rolled back, feeling Jay's tongue going deep in your pussy and sucking on your bud. Your moans could no longer be held back, letting them out freely for the neighbors to hear.

“J-Jay ah- wait!” You cried out feeling your orgasm coming faster than you anticipated. Jay didn’t stop, feeling your pussy tighten and open and before he knew it too, his tongue was getting covered by your juices. You shook lightly and jerked when he flicked his tongue on your bud teasingly.

He latched his mouth off your pussy and licked his lips while staring at you breathing deeply. Jay loved the view, your hair messy, eyes teary, mouth agape with saliva trailing down, mascara streaks on your cheeks. He wanted to ruin you more.

As he took off his shirt, you noticed his body was pretty toned. You’d have to ask him later if he workout often. He took off his pants with his boxers finally revealing his dick. You gasp at his size. Is that even gonna fit? You gulped nervously.

Jay noticed your face and smiled, “It’s okay, I’ll go slow. For now.” He said. You nodded and slowly put your hand on your pussy, opening your folds to let Jay see your hole.

Jay's eyes widened at your sudden confidence for a second before his eyes turned dark, “Someone getting confident? I should lower that.” He mumbled. Before you could ask what he meant, he leaned over you and positioned his dick at your hole and slowly pushed in.

You felt the air get knocked out your lungs and immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. You squeezed around him tightly making him hiss, “Shit, relax will you?” He complained.

“I-It’s not my fault you suddenly did that!” You snapped, still feeling pain. Slowly, you tried to relax your breathing and soon enough, he was fully in.

You let out a ragged breath feeling him in you. He felt so big and you felt so full. Jay watched your face, making sure he wasn’t hurting you in any way. He knows he’s big.

“M-Move.” You panted. Jay nodded even though you probably didn’t see him and slowly he moved. He kept a slow steady pace, watching your every move and facials. He saw your eyebrows furrow and you lolled your head back.

That’s when Jay started going at a faster pace and soon you both were moaning and panting against each other. Both of your bodies are sweaty and sticking together. The sound of skin slapping, the bed creaking, and your unison moans were heard all over your room.

Jay gripped your waist and lifted his upper body up, leaving you to clench your sheets as he thrusted up into you. You felt your eyes roll back feeling his mushroom tip hit against just the right spots.

Jay groaned, feeling you squeezing around him. He felt his orgasm coming quicker than usual. Probably considering he hasn’t had sex in a while or your pussy just felt too good. He thinks it’s the second one.

You felt your orgasm coming and whimpered, “I-I think I’m c-cumming- hah!” You moaned and shut your eyes. Jay let out a breathy laugh and slowed down his thrusting, going harder and deeper. And that’s when your orgasm came.

You let out a silent moan feeling him still thrusting into you hard. You squirmed harshly and overstimulated before he took out his dick and stroked it on your stomach, his cum spurting out on you.

You both panted at the intense orgasm before Jay got off your bed and went to your bathroom. He came back with a washcloth and slowly cleaned you up. Your breathing calmed feeling him lay beside you and rubbing your back softly.

“I can’t believe we had sex.” You said. Jay snorted and leaned on his hand.

“You’re just now thinking that? I can’t believe you wanted me to be your first.” He admitted. You stared at him before giggling. You both soon started laughing together.

You suddenly felt your eyes get droopy and yawned. Jay noticed and smiled, “You can sleep.”

You pouted, “Are you leaving?”

He shook his head, “I can stay a while longer if you want me too.” You nodded and cuddled against his warm body. He held your waist, seeing your eyes finally closing and hearing soft snores leave your mouth.

He slowly leaned in, but stopped. He has to stick with the plan. He furrowed his eyebrows and slowly got off your bed, putting your blanket over your naked body. He got dressed and gave you one last look before softly shutting your door.

The next morning, you wake up with a start, realizing you're late for school. You quickly grab your phone and call Jay. His groggy voice answers, confirming he also overslept.

"Hey, you awake?" You ask, still feeling the remnants of sleep.

“Yeah, just woke up," Jay replies, his voice thick with sleep. You giggled hearing his tired voice. You heard a slight hum from him.

“We’re late Jay.” You said, not sure if he knows. It takes a few seconds before he finally understand and curses, saying he’ll pick you up soon.

You quickly get dressed in your uniform, noticing a slight soreness from the previous day. You get a text from Jay and you rush outside to find Jay already waiting in his car. You hop in, and he gives you a sympathetic look.

"Rough morning, huh?" He says with a small smile.

"Yeah, you could say that," You reply, buckling your seatbelt.

The drive to school is quick, both of you silently cursing your luck for waking up late. Jay pulls into the school parking lot and parks the car, "I'll see you later," He says, giving you a reassuring nod as you head to your class.

You walk into your classroom, feeling the eyes of your classmates on you. Your teacher looks up from her desk and says, "You're late."

You feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you mumble an apology and quickly take your seat. You start to work, trying to focus on the lesson and ignore the feeling of everyone's eyes on you.

Class went by fast as you quickly pack your stuff and heading out the hallway only to bump into someone, “Agh! Sorry! I wasn’t looking-“ Your eyes widened seeing Heeseung.

He gave you a knowing grin, “Someone looks like they didn’t get good sleep last night.”

You blushed and shook your head, “I just stayed up late studying! T-That’s all!” You ranted. Heeseung chuckled and leaned near your space, feeling his hot breath on you.

“It’s okay to be honest. I know what you did.” He said before leaning back, walking past you. You stared into nowhere where he was just at, your eyes wide. Does he really know? Did Jay tell him?

As you looked around you finally caught a glimpse of Jay walking towards you, “Hey, sorry for the wait. Jake was nagging-“

“Did you tell Heeseung what we did?” You ask, feeling nervous. Jay eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh, no? Why?” He replied. You shook your head, ignoring his question. You say never mind as you both head to your next class. You were now hoping Heeseung was just joking.

Class went by smoothly with Jay by your side. Both of you partners for an upcoming project. When it's finally lunch, you meet Kazuha in the cafeteria. She takes one look at you and asks, "Are you okay? You look like you're constipated."

You glare at her, feeling a mix of irritation and embarrassment, “Gee, thanks for the concern," You reply sarcastically. You then let out a sigh, “Don’t freak out, but I had sex with Jay last night.”

Kazuha raises an eyebrow for a few seconds before yelling, “You had sex with who?” She shouts.

It catches you completely off guard. You can't help but let out a yell, drawing the attention of nearby students hearing you guys yell, “Shhh! Be quiet!" You hiss, trying to calm the situation.

"Why?" Kazuha asks, genuinely curious.

You lean in closer and whisper, "It's because of Heeseung."

Kazuha's eyes widen in surprise. "Wait, was it good?" She asks, a smirk forming on her lips.

You nod, a small smile playing on your face, “Yeah, it was really good."

Kazuha chuckles, shaking her head. "As expected of Jay," She says, and you both burst into laughter.

As lunch comes to an end, Kazuha turns to you and asks, "Hey, do you want to hang out at my house after school?"

You smile and nod. "Yeah, that sounds great."

After school, you find Jay near the parking lot and tell him, "Hey, I'm gonna ride with Kazuha today."

Jay nods, looking relieved. "Good, I have basketball practice and didn't want you waiting around for me."

You smile and wave, "Bye, Jay. See you later!"

You head over to Kazuha, who is waiting by her car, "Ready to go?" She asks with a grin.

"Yeah, let's go," You reply, hopping into her car.

As you drive to Kazuha's house, she mentions, "There's gonna be a basketball game soon. Are you gonna go?"

You hesitate for a moment before saying, "Maybe." In truth, you know you're definitely going because Heeseung is playing. But as your mind wanders, you also think about Jay and quickly shake off the thought.

Once you arrive at Kazuha's house, you both decide to make cookies. The kitchen fills with the sweet aroma of baking as you mix ingredients and laugh about the day's events. After the cookies are in the oven, you settle down in the living room to watch some romance movies.

You both get completely absorbed in the films, crying at the sad parts and cheering at the happy endings. The evening flies by in a mix of emotions and laughter.

By the time the cookies are ready, you both enjoy the warm, gooey treats while discussing the characters and plot twists. It's a perfect way to unwind and forget about the day's drama, even if just for a little while.

As you and Kazuha were gossiping, Kazuha asks you a question that catches you off guard, “So, you and Jay huh? You like him?” She asks. You stare at her confused.

“What are you talking about? I don’t like him.” You say, although for some reason you felt your heart race. Kazuha grins and playfully pushes you.

“Then why out of all people would you want him to take your virginity?” She adds. You thought for a moment.

“Because, I don’t know. I just felt comfortable with him.” You admitted. Kazuha stares at you for a moment before nodding.

“You like Heeseung, not Jay.” She said. And for some reason, that statement felt weird to you.

Before you could speak, you suddenly felt your phone vibrate and curiously looked at the caller ID. It was Jay. You answered while laughing at what Kazuha said about his photo you saved of him.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask while taking a bite out of your cookie.

“I got done with practice. Was just wondering if you need a ride back home.” He admitted. You let out a hum and looked over at Kazuha before answering.

“Yeah that’s fine.” You beamed.

“Alright, send me the address and I’ll be on my way.” He spoke. You said okay and hung up.

Jay arrives at Kazuha's house and you give Kazuha a big hug and say, "Thanks for today, it was so much fun! See you later!"

"Anytime! Bye!" Kazuha waves as you head to Jay's car.

You slide into the passenger seat and start chatting about your day, "Kazuha and I made cookies and watched some romance movies. We cried so much at the endings!"

Jay listens attentively, a small smile playing on his lips. Suddenly, he reaches over and swipes something off your lips with his thumb, “You had a bit of chocolate there," He says, licking his fingers, "Next time, make some for me too."

You blush, feeling your cheeks heat up, “Okay, I will," You mumble, a shy smile forming on your face.

The rest of the ride is filled with comfortable silence, and soon enough, you arrive at your house. You turn to Jay and say, "Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow!"

“Anytime," Jay replies with a wink, "Goodnight."

You giggled and stepped out of the car, heading inside, your heart fluttering from the unexpected moment. You gripped your shirt. What is wrong with you?

Once you came inside, you decided to take a shower to relax. After finishing your shower, you wrap yourself in a cozy towel and head to your room. Just as you're about to get dressed, your phone rings. It's Jay calling. You quickly answer, "Hey, Jay. What's up?"

"Hey, are you going to the basketball game tomorrow?" He asks, sounding eager.

“Yeah, I am," You reply, smiling to yourself.

"Great! Maybe we can hang out after?" He suggests. You giggle how happy he sounded.

"Sure, sounds fun," You say, feeling a flutter in your stomach at his idea. As the conversation continues, you both start chatting about random things, laughing as he talks about Jake and Sunghoon play fighting at practice.

Suddenly, a memory of what happened in your room with Jay flashes in your mind, and you can't help but blush. Your words start to stumble, and you stutter, "Um, uh, yeah... funny, um..."

Jay's tone shifts to concern, “Hey, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing," You quickly reply, trying to shake off the embarrassment.

There's a brief silence on the other end before Jay says, "Is this about your bedroom?"

His words shock you, how the hell did he know? You then responded a little too fast, "No!"

Jay chuckles softly, "You sure? You sound pretty flustered."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, "I'm fine, really.”

Silence was left on the other side, you nervously gulped, “Jay?”

No answer. You felt nervousness creep on you. Shit, what if he found it weird that you were thinking dirty? As you were about to say something, Jay cut you to it.

“Do you finger yourself?” He suddenly asked. You felt your breathing stop.

“W-What?” You ask. Jay let out a low breath. You could tell he was holding himself back. You weren’t sure from what though.

“I said, do you finger yourself? When you’re alone at home.” He asks again, but adding on. You felt your cheeks heat up and twirled your hair nervously. You wouldn’t say you do, but you thought of it more than once.

“N-Not really? I-I mean I think about it, but I don’t do it.” You admit. You heard a chuckle in the other line.

“Why not do it now that I’m on call with you?” He suddenly said, you blinked. He wants you to finger yourself, while he’s on call with you?

“How does that work?” You mumbled. Jay hummed and you heard rustling on the other line, as if he was getting comfy.

“Simple. You just finger yourself while I’m on call with you. Either you just do it alone, or I can guide you through while saying stuff to you. I might jerk off though.” He states. You thought for a moment, how is that simple? You’re gonna finger yourself on call with him? And he’s gonna jerk off? It’s already hard enough to talk through calls.

Jay noticed your quietness, “You don’t have too. It was just something to occupy ourselves-“

“Okay. I’ll do it.” You shyly said. Jay made a noise, as if he was surprised you actually said okay before he chuckled.

Jay's voice comes through the phone, "Are you on your bed right now?"

You glance around and realize you're still standing by your dresser, “Uh, no, not yet," You admit, feeling a bit flustered.

"Go to it," He instructs, his voice gentle but firm.

You walk over to your bed and sit down, the soft mattress sinking slightly under your weight, “Okay, I'm on my bed now."

"Good," Jay says, a hint of satisfaction in his tone, "Now, I want you to lie down and relax."

You feel a wave of nervousness wash over you but comply, lying down and staring at the ceiling, "Alright, I'm lying down."

"Perfect," He continues, “Now, I want you to close your eyes and just listen to my voice. Let me do all the talking, okay?"

You nod, even though he can't see you, "Okay," You say softly, feeling a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

“I want you to take deep breaths, remember how I felt against you that night.” He spoke softly. You let out a anxious sigh and remembered that night. How his tongue felt against you. His hands move so smoothly against your skin. His lips were plump and soft when he was kissing and sucking your neck.

Slowly, you lower your hand to your pussy and softly rub your bud. You let out a gasp and let out a quiet moan. You heard a sigh coming from Jay and heard ruffling against the line.

“W-What are you doing?” You breathed out, still rubbing your bud.

“Mind if I jerk off?” He casually said. You bit your lip and nodded before you replied yes. You cursed at yourself for being distracted. You heard the pants of Jays unzip fast and heard a soft hiss.

“What do I do now?” You muttered.

“Now imagine me between your legs, use your fingers and rub your folds. Then add a finger in. You can do that, yeah?” He breathed out. You let out a high moan listening to what he’s saying.

You rubbed your folds at a natural pace, feeling your juices squelching. You're sure Jay can hear because you heard a low groan from him and hearing skin slapping of his balls and his hand.

You imagined him laying on his bed, one phone in his hand while the other is wrapped around his hard dick. His body starts to sweat as his breathing gets uneven.

You shoved a finger in your hole and arched your back, letting out a pained moan. You forgot how tight you were. You slowly relaxed your breathing, remembering Jay’s voice when he told you too. Soon you started feeling pleasure and started fingering faster.

You forgot Jay was on the other line until you heard him letting out moans himself and hearing squelchy noises. You bit your lip and panted feeling an orgasm coming.

“J-Jay, want you in me.” You whispered. You added a second finger and cried out.

“F-Fuck! Yeah, want me in you? Want my dick to ruin your tight pussy?” He snapped. You nodded your head frantically even though he couldn't see you and came right on your fingers. You then heard Jay cursing one last time before hearing him breathe in and out unevenly.

After a few seconds you let out a giggle, "You were really good at this," you murmur, feeling a bit shy.

"Really? It’s my first time having phone sex," Jay replies, his voice filled with warmth and lust. Your eyes widened a little. You were his first phone sex? You felt a bit of pride knowing you were his first before chuckling.

“For some reason that makes me happy to hear.” You admit. You heard Jay chuckling and heard a yawn.

“If you’re tired, go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You mumbled. Jay hummed before saying bye and hanging up after you said bye. You laid in bed staring at the ceiling. You can’t believe you had phone sex with him.

The next morning, you were already dressed for school. You twirled a little to make sure you look good. With a small smile, you grab your backpack and head out the door, making your way to Jay's car.

Jay is leaning against his car, waiting for you with a playful grin on his face, "Morning, sleepyhead. How'd you sleep after our little chat last night?" He teases.

You feel your cheeks heat up as you remember the night before, “Shut up, Jay," You mutter, trying to hide your embarrassment.

He just laughs, clearly enjoying your reaction, "Come on, let's get to school."

The drive is filled with light banter, and soon enough, you pull into the school parking lot. As you step out of the car, you suddenly spot Heeseung standing near the entrance, looking around as if he's waiting for someone.

You exchange a confused glance with Jay, who just shrugs, "What's Heeseung doing here?" You wonder aloud.

Before Jay can respond, Heeseung spots you guys and walks over to you guys, "Hey, I just got here and thought I'd walk to first period with you," He says, looking directly at you.

You feel your heart skip a beat and your face flushes, "O-Okay," You stammer, before Jay has a chance to say anything.

Jay raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment, simply giving you a knowing look. The three of you start walking together, and you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As you walk, you catch Jay's amused expression out of the corner of your eye, but he remains silent, letting you enjoy the moment with Heeseung. What you don’t know though, is the swirling jealousy he feels too.

The school day flew by in a blur. Classes with Jay were the usual mix of teasing and casual conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. Lunchtime with Kazuha was also routine, filled with chatter about assignments and weekend plans. Before you knew it, the end of the school day approached, and you and Kazuha started getting ready for the basketball game.

As you enter the gym, the familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the floor and basketballs bouncing fill the air. You spot Jay practicing with his team, his focus intense. When he notices you, he breaks into a wide smile, and you can't help but smile back.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Heeseung staring at you. His gaze is intense, almost as if he's trying to figure something out. The moment your eyes meet, he quickly looks away, leaving you feeling puzzled and a little flustered.

"Hey, the game's about to start," Kazuha's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You turn to her, nodding as you push the confusing encounter with Heeseung to the back of your mind. Together, you find your seats and settle in, ready to cheer for the team.

The game was in full swing, and it was hard to tell which team would come out on top. You and Kazuha were on the edge of your seats, cheering enthusiastically along with the other spectators. Every basket, every pass, and every block were followed by shouts and applause from the crowd.

The score was tied, and the tension in the air was palpable. Jay was on the court, focused and determined. Every time he got the ball, the gym filled with excitement. The crowd roared, and you and Kazuha were no exception, shouting his name and clapping vigorously.

Finally, in the last few seconds of the game, Jay received the ball and, with an impressive maneuver, scored the final point. The sound of the whistle marked the end of the game, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your team had won.

You jumped out of your seat along with everyone else, clapping and shouting with joy. Jay, drenched in sweat but with a triumphant smile, looked over to where you were. He raised a finger, signaling number one, and you smiled back at him, feeling incredibly proud.

After the game, the gym began to empty out. Some people left, while others stayed behind to talk to the teammates. You noticed Jake and his girlfriend chatting near the bleachers. As you were watching them, someone suddenly jumped from behind you, making you jump in surprise. You thought it was Jay, but when you turned around, you saw it was Heeseung.

"How did I do?" Heeseung asked with a playful smile.

Out of kindness and sincerely, you responded, "You did amazing." Your heart leaped when he smiled at you, his eyes lighting up with genuine appreciation.

"Jay's in the locker room changing," Heeseung informed you.

“Okay," you replied, feeling a mix of emotions.

Heeseung seemed like he was about to ask you something, but before he could, Jay appeared, interrupting the moment.

“Hey, ready to go?” He asked. Heeseung closed his mouth and offered a grin to Jay. You nodded your head, but also confused about what Heeseung was gonna say.

“What were you gonna say Heeseung?” You said. Heeseung stared at you but then shook his head.

“Nothing. Have fun you two.” He teased before turning away and leaving to his other teammates.

You look over at Jay and shrugged. You both walked out while saying bye to the team. As you guys walked to his car, you couldn’t help but feel happy that they won.

“You guys did amazing! I mean especially with you! You did amazing out there Jay.” You smiled. Jay stared at you for a second before facing you. Your smile faltered a bit. Is he okay? You watched as he slowly started leaning in. You didn’t know what to do, but slowly, you closed your eyes.

And yet, nothing came. You opened your eyes to see that Jay was backed up and just stared at the ground, “I’ll drop you off home.” He spoke before going towards his car. You watched frozen. Were you actually gonna let him kiss you?

The car ride was filled with an awkward silence, both of you thinking about the incident where he almost kissed you. The tension was palpable, and neither of you knew how to break it.

When you finally reached your house, you turned to him and said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," He replied, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Congrats on the win, one more time," You added before getting out of the car.

"Thanks," Jay said, giving you a small smile.

You shut the door behind you and let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in. You made your way to your room, your mind racing. As you lay on your bed, you couldn't help but think about your feelings for Jay.

Maybe it was because you guys had spent so much time together recently, or maybe it was sex. Whatever it was, it had you feeling confused and unsure about what to do next. It didn’t matter though. You liked Heeseung and only Heeseung. Jay is just there to help.

It was getting dark when you were woken up by the sound of your phone ringing. Groggily, you reached over and answered it.

"Hello?" You mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Hey, were you sleeping?" Jay's familiar voice came through the line.

"Yeah, I was," You replied, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to a party tonight. Since we won and all," Jay said, sounding a bit excited. "This time, Heeseung is hosting it."

You thought about it for a moment, considering the invitation. The idea of seeing Heeseung again made your heart race a little, but you also felt a bit nervous about the whole thing. After a brief hesitation, you decided to go for it.

"Sure, why not," You said, trying to sound more awake and enthusiastic.

"Okay, I'll pick you up soon," Jay responded, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You hung up the phone and quickly got out of bed, heading to your closet to find something to wear. As you got dressed, you couldn't help but think about your feelings with everything. Maybe the party won’t hurt.

As you finished getting dressed you got a text from Jay saying he was here. You grabbed your jacket and headed to his car. The drive was filled with chatting about random things.

Once you and Jay arrived at the party, the atmosphere was buzzing with energy. As you walked inside, you saw people dancing to the music. You turned to Jay and asked, "Do you want to dance for fun?"

"Sure," Jay replied with a smile.

Both of you joined the crowd and started moving to the beat of the music. You felt carefree and happy, enjoying the moment with Jay. Jay grabbed your waist and moved with you. You felt your heart beating faster and stared at him before smiling.

After a while, Jay leaned in and said, "I'm going to get some drinks. Do you want anything?"

"Okay, thanks," You responded, and Jay walked away toward the drinks table.

You continued dancing, letting the music take over. Suddenly, you felt someone behind you. Turning around, you saw Heeseung, which made you jump a little.

"You scared me!" You exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest.

"Sorry," Heeseung said with a grin, "Do you want to go somewhere so we can talk?"

You glanced around, looking for Jay, and told Heeseung, "I'm waiting for Jay."

"Oh, you're with Jay? I thought you guys broke up or something cause he’s with another girl," Heeseung said, pointing towards the drinks table.

Your eyebrows furrowed before you look over. There, Jay was standing with a cup in his hand, but another girl was talking to him. She laughed and touched up his arm and he let her. He seemed to be laughing too. For some reason, you felt a pang of hurt in your chest upon hearing that. Still, you nodded and said, "Okay, let's go."

Heeseung led you to a room upstairs. As you walked in, you looked around, examining the space. It was a cozy and well-decorated room.

"This is my room," Heeseung said, watching you, "I never let people in here. You're the first."

You felt surprised and a bit special hearing that, wondering what Heeseung wanted to tell you in private. So, you sat next to him.

You took a deep breath and turned to Heeseung, feeling a mix of curiosity and nervousness. "So, what did you want to talk about?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Heeseung looked at you intently, his expression serious, "I wanted to ask you something," He began, "Are you and Jay really dating? Because it looks real, but not real enough to me."

You felt your heart race at his question. You were at a loss for words, trying to find a way to cover up the fake dating situation, "Uh, yeah, we are," you stammered, but Heeseung's piercing gaze told you he wasn't convinced.

"I can tell it's fake," He said softly, stepping closer to you. You stare down. You then felt a hand come up to your cheek, "If your relationship is not real, is it okay if I do this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you. You could taste the faint hint of alcohol on his lips, and your mind went blank, not knowing how to react.

Just then, the door swung open, and you saw Jay standing there, his eyes wide with surprise, "Jay, I can explain," You blurted out, panic rising in your chest.

Jay held up a hand, cutting you off, "It's fine," He said, a strange look in his eyes, "You finally got him." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you and Heeseung alone.

Heeseung looked confused, trying to process what Jay meant. But you couldn't stay any longer. You had to go after Jay, "I need to go," you said to Heeseung, rushing out of the room to find Jay and explain everything.

You rushed out of the room, your heart pounding as you pushed past people at the party. The music and chatter seemed like a distant hum as you focused solely on finding Jay. You finally spotted him near the exit, and you quickened your pace, calling out his name, “Jay, wait!"

He stopped and turned around, his expression unreadable. You caught up to him, breathless, "I didn't know what to do," You said, your voice trembling, “I didn't expect Heeseung to kiss me."

Jay looked at you, his eyes hardening, "Why are you so scared? Our relationship didn't mean anything," He said flatly.

His words stung, and you felt a pang of hurt. "Be honest with me, Jay," You demanded, your voice breaking, “Do you like me?"

There was a heavy silence as he looked at you, his face devoid of emotion. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, "I never did."

You stood there, stunned, as he turned and walked towards his car. You watched him drive away, feeling a lump form in your throat. For some odd reason, you felt tears welling up in your eyes, and you stood there, heartbroken and alone.

You wiped your teary eyes, trying to compose yourself before heading back inside. The party was still in full swing, but everything felt different now. You spotted Heeseung across the room and made your way over to him, your heart heavy with mixed emotions.

Heeseung noticed you immediately, concern etched on his face, "Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly.

You ignored his question, your mind racing, "Heeseung, do you like me?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung looked at you, his eyes sincere, "I do," He said, "I really like you. And I want to make it official, if that's okay with you."

A small smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, "Yes, Heeseung. I'd like that."

Heeseung's face lit up with relief and happiness. He pulled you into a warm hug, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. But as he kissed you, something felt off. The kiss was gentle and sweet, but it didn't stir the emotions you expected. There was a hollowness, a sense that something was missing.

You pulled away slightly, looking into Heeseung's eyes. He smiled at you, completely unaware of the turmoil inside you. You forced a smile back, trying to push away the lingering doubts. For now, you were with Heeseung, and that was what mattered.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. Half asleep, you glanced at the screen and, for a moment, thought it was Jay. But when you saw Heeseung's name, you remembered giving him your number the night before.

"Hello," You answered, trying to sound awake.

"Good morning," Heeseung replied cheerfully, "Can I pick you up? I'd like to take you to school."

"Sure," You said, sending him your address. You got out of bed and started getting ready, but something didn't feel right.

As you brushed your hair and picked out your clothes, you couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel if it were Jay calling you. The idea of hearing his voice on the other line filled you with a mix of nostalgia and sadness.

Finally, you were ready and went downstairs to wait for Heeseung. As you waited, you couldn't help but feel that something was missing. The excitement and spark you felt with Jay weren't there. But you tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on the present.

When Heeseung arrived, he greeted you with a big smile and a warm hug. You got into his car, trying to leave your doubts behind and enjoy the moment. But deep down, you couldn't ignore the feeling that something just didn't quite fit.

Heeseung drove you to school, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the streets. As you pulled into the parking lot, you noticed students glancing your way. Whispers and curious looks followed you both as you walked through the halls. It seemed like everyone had heard about you and Jay, and now seeing you with Heeseung was stirring up even more gossip.

You tried to ignore the stares and focused on Heeseung, who was chatting with you about the upcoming day. His presence was comforting, but the curious eyes around you made it hard to relax. As you reached your classroom, Heeseung turned to you with a smile.

"I'll see you later," He said, giving you a quick wave before heading off to his own class.

"Bye," You replied, watching him go. You took a deep breath and stepped into the classroom, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched.

The morning passed by in a blur of classes and assignments. What surprised you is that you didn’t see Jay in your second period. You just assumed he didn’t wanna see you.

When lunchtime finally arrived, you were gathering your things when Heeseung appeared at your classroom door.

“Hey, do you want to eat lunch with me, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon?" He asked casually.

At the mention of Jay's name, you froze for a moment. Your mind raced, but you forced a smile and nodded, "Sure, that sounds great."

You shoot Kazuha a text before following Heeseung to the cafeteria, your heart pounding a little faster with each step. When you reached the table, you noticed Jay wasn't there. Jake and Sunghoon greeted you both with smiles, but you couldn't help but wonder where Jay was.

"Where's Jay?" Heeseung asked, looking around.

Sunghoon shrugged, "I called him, but he said he didn't want to come to school today."

Heeseung seemed to brush it off, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. As you sat down and joined the conversation, your thoughts kept drifting back to Jay. Why hadn't he come to school? The question lingered in your mind, even as you tried to focus on the friends around you.

After school, you approached Heeseung and told him you were going shopping with Kazuha and that she would give you a ride. Heeseung nodded and smiled at you.

"Okay, I’ll call you later," He said, waving goodbye.

You walked over to Kazuha, who was waiting for you in her car. Seeing you, she frowned with concern.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit down lately, even though you got Heeseung in the end," Kazuha commented as you got into the car.

"Yeah, I'm fine," You replied, trying to sound convincing.

The drive to the mall was quiet, with Kazuha chatting about the latest news while you nodded distractedly. When you arrived, Kazuha followed you as you walked towards a guitar shop.

"What are we doing here?" She asked, visibly confused.

Without responding, you headed straight to the guitar section and picked out an expensive guitar that you knew Jay had always wanted. Kazuha looked at you with wide eyes as you paid for it.

"Why did you buy that?" She asked, still in shock.

"I promised Jay I'd give him the guitar he always wanted," You explained, remembering the promise you had made.

Kazuha nodded slowly, recalling, "You're a good person," She said softly.

But inside, you couldn't help but feel differently. As you both left the store, you felt the guitar in your hands, and a weight in your heart.

For the past few days, you had been spending a lot of time with Heeseung. Everything seemed perfect, but you couldn't help but notice how distant Jay had become.

He barely acknowledged you in class, and it felt like he was avoiding both you and Heeseung. The once warm and friendly interactions had turned cold and distant, leaving you feeling uneasy.

One morning, as you finished your first period, Heeseung approached you with a smile, "Hey, did you know it's Jay's birthday today?" He asked casually.

You nodded, feeling a pang of sadness, "Yeah, I know," You replied.

"Well, he's having a small get-together after school, and he said you should come too," Heeseung continued, watching your reaction.

You were taken aback, "He said that?" You asked, surprised. Given how Jay had been ignoring you lately, you found it hard to believe he would want you at his birthday celebration.

"Yeah, he did. He said it's fine," Heeseung reassured you, sensing your hesitation.

You were still skeptical but decided to trust Heeseung, "Okay, I'll come," You agreed, hoping that maybe this could be a chance to mend things with Jay.

The school day passed slowly, with Jay continuing to ignore you in class. The tension was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. When the final bell rang, you met up with Heeseung, who seemed excited about the party.

As you and Heeseung drove to Jay's house together, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. There was a part of you that was nervous about seeing Jay, but another part that hoped this could be a turning point. When you arrived, you were greeted by a few of Jay's close friends, but Jay himself was nowhere to be seen.

Heeseung led you inside, and after a few minutes, Jay finally appeared. He looked surprised to see you but didn't say anything. Instead, he just gave you a small nod before turning his attention to Heeseung.

The party went on, but you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. Jay's distant behavior was confusing, and you wondered if coming here was a mistake.

However, as the night progressed, you noticed Jay stealing glances at you, almost as if he was trying to figure out what to say.

Finally, as the party was winding down, you decided it was time to give Jay his gift. Nervously, you approached him and handed him the case, "Happy birthday, Jay," You said softly.

Jay's eyes widened in surprise as he opened the case and saw the guitar, "You actually got this for me?" He asked, clearly stunned.

You nodded, "Yeah, I did. It's the least I could do after you helped me get Heeseung."

Jay looked at you, his expression softening, "I can't take this," He said, shaking his head.

"Please, take it. You deserve it," You insisted.

Jay finally accepted the guitar, his eyes filled with gratitude, "Thank you," He said sincerely.

You just smiled and went back to Heeseung, feeling a mix of emotions. Soon, the party ended, and as you and Heeseung were leaving, Jay called out, "Take care."

Heeseung gave Jay a hug, and Jay just gave you a smile. You smiled back, but deep down, you missed the warmth of the old Jay, the one who used to be close to you.

"Of course," You replied, trying to sound cheerful, "Happy birthday, Jay."

He gave you a small smile, and for a moment, it felt like things might be okay. But the distance between you was still there, and you couldn't help but think you had caused it in the first place.

The evening sky was painted with hues of orange and pink as Heeseung pulled up in front of your house. The car ride had been filled with comfortable silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. As he turned off the engine, you hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Do you want to come inside for a bit?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung looked at you, a small smile playing on his lips, “Sure, why not?"

You both got out of the car and walked to the front door. Once inside, you offered him a drink, and he accepted. The two of you settled on the couch, drinks in hand, and started talking about everything and nothing. As the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but bring up the question that had been nagging at you for a while.

"Heeseung, can I ask you something?" You began, your eyes searching his.

"Of course," He replied, leaning in slightly, his expression attentive.

“Why did it take you so long to talk to me?" You asked, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of sadness.

Heeseung looked taken aback for a moment, “What do you mean?"

"You know, before I started dating Jay," you clarified, “When we played spin the bottle.”

Heeseung shrugged bashfully, “To be honest, I’m not really sure. I was drunk and I was just saying whatever the hell. But I'm glad he didn’t kiss you.”

You giggled until you thought of another one, “It was cute though when you gave me that note."

Heeseung's face went from shy to confused, "What note?"

You got up and went to your room, returning with a small piece of paper, "This one," You said, handing it to him, "You gave it to me a few months ago."

Heeseung unfolded the note and read it, his brow furrowing, "I never gave this to you," He said, looking genuinely puzzled.

You frowned, "But a boy gave it to me and said it was from you."

Heeseung shook his head slowly, "I never wrote this."

A thought suddenly struck you, and you grabbed the note from Heeseung, examining it closely, "Wait a minute," You said, your eyes widening as realization dawned on you, "This looks like Jay's handwriting."

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, “Jay? Are you serious?"

You remember how his handwriting was when you guys passed notes back and forth in class out of boredom. You just didn’t look at the note for those past months. Everything suddenly clicked into place.

That boy that had given you the note, he was pointing at Jay, not Heeseung. Your heart raced as you pieced together the puzzle, feeling a mix of confusion and betrayal.

"It wasn't you," You whispered, more to yourself than to Heeseung, "It was Jay."

Heeseung reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to go through that misunderstanding," He said softly, "But I'm here now."

You looked up at him, gratitude and warmth filling your chest. But at the same time, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jay, “H-Heeseung thank you, but the only reason why I liked you, was because I thought you gave me this note, and you liked me that long too.”

Heeseung's smile faltered. It was silent for a few seconds before he let out a sigh, “You like Jay, don’t you? All those times spent together really helped you find your one.”

“I guess I didn’t really know at all.” You muttered. Heeseung cupped your face, staring into your eyes. You could tell the sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t blame you for liking Jay, I blame myself for loving you too late.” He sadly smiled. You hugged him tightly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head in your neck.

As you stood there, the warmth of Heeseung's embrace enveloping you, you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside. Heeseung gently pulled back, looking into your eyes with a serious expression.

"You need to tell Jay," He said softly.

You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. Heeseung gave you one last reassuring smile before turning and walking away. You watched him leave, feeling a sense of finality.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your phone and dialed Jay's number. He picked up after a few rings, his voice laced with confusion, "Hey, what's up? Why are you calling?"

"Can you come over?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Jay hesitated, "I don't think I should... because of Heeseung."

"We broke up," You said, your voice steadying. There was a pause on the other end, and then Jay spoke again, his confusion evident, "Wait, what? You broke up?"

"Just come over, please," You urged. You hanged up not wanting to hear him talk.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on your door. You opened it to find Jay standing there, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. Before he could say anything, you closed the distance between you and kissed him. Jay was taken aback but quickly responded, his arms wrapping around you.

When you finally pulled away, you looked up at him and said, "You were the one who gave me the note."

Jay's eyes widened in surprise, "How did you know?"

You chuckled softly, "Because only you would do something cheesy like that."

Jay laughed, the sound warm and genuine. How you missed it. "Guilty as charged."

Before you could say anything else, Jay leaned in and kissed you again, this time with more confidence. The kiss deepened, and soon you found yourselves lost in each other, the world outside forgotten.

The kiss became hot feeling , feeling Jay's tongue hot inside your mouth. You let out tiny moans when he began pushing you on the couch nearby. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to make the kiss deeper.

Jay broke the kiss and connected foreheads with you, both of you panting, “Been wanting to do that since we started this deal.” He panted. You smiled and pecked his lips.

“Surprised you didn’t wanna do it before that. But then again, you did hate me.” You teased. Jay scoffed and kissed your lips again.

“I didn’t hate you. Just didn’t wanna get rejected.” He admitted. You furrowed your eyebrows and rubbed his cheek with your hand.

“I’m sorry you felt that way. But you have me now, and I’m all yours.” You whispered.

“All mine.” He replied. He kissed along your jaw and sucked on it. You moaned softly and threw your head back.

He suddenly stopped leaving you confused before he flips you over in your stomach. He lifted your sweater up and off you. You arched your back, your ass hitting his groin. That earned a slap making you whimper. He then slowly slid your shorts off with your underwear.

You felt the cold air hitting your wet pussy and clenched. Jay fingers dipped easily inside you from behind causing you to arch your back while clenching a nearby pillow. His long thick fingers going in and out so smooth because of your dripping pussy.

You tried grinding down on them, but let out a sharp scream feeling your hair being pulled back, “You’re gonna take what I fucking give you.” He rasped out. You tried nodding your head, but couldn’t with the tightness of his grip on your hair.

He went a fast pace, however then went at a slow pace teasingly. You whined wanting him to go faster, “P-Please Jay!” You cried out. Jay didn’t listen to you and took his fingers out. You panted hard wanting to cum and being upset with the loss of contact.

You heard rustling behind you and turned your head back and saw Jay taking off his clothes too. You bit your lip, drooling over his dick. He stroked it slow and steady, “Ready?” He said. You nodded frantically and sticked your ass out more to him.

He gripped your waist and slowly, he entered. You both moaned in unison. He cursed feeling your hot walls engulf him tightly. You gasped for air feeling his dick fill you up.

He didn’t waste anytime and started going at a fast pace. You let out a squeal feeling his balls slapping against your pussy, adding a big amount of pleasure.

“Hah! Slow down J-Jay!” You wailed out. Jay chuckled and wrapped his hand around your neck, pushing your head down against the couch. You felt it hard to breathe, nonetheless it felt so good being manhandled.

“Pussy feels so good. Such a good girl for me~” He breathed out.

“Y-Yes! O-Only for you.” You moaned. Jay hummed, approving. And he’s never gonna let you go again.

You felt your orgasm coming, “G-Gonna cum! cumming, cumming!-“ You felt your jaw go slack feeling your orgasm. Jay didn’t stop. He continued fucking you through your orgasm leaving you shaking.

“You’ll be a good girl and wait? Gonna fucking breed this pussy till it’s full of my cum.” Jay groaned. You look behind you and gave Jay a seductive look.

“Please cum inside me.” You pleaded. That’s all it took before you felt warm cum filling you. Your eyes rolled back before you came again. Jay cursed and took his dick out, surprised you came again.

You panted heavenly and felt Jay wrap his arms around you, “Are you okay?” He asked, kissing the nape of your neck.

You smiled and nodded, “Just fine.” You responded. He chuckled and placed his head on top of yours. You both didn’t say anything else as sleep overtook both of you and soon you both fell asleep in each others warmth.

The next morning, you woke up on the couch, feeling a bit disoriented. As you rubbed your eyes, the memories of last night came flooding back, and a smile crept onto your face. You noticed you were clean and wearing fresh clothes, which made you wonder how that happened. Then, a delicious aroma wafted through the air, drawing you towards the kitchen.

You walked in to find Jay standing by the stove, cooking. He turned and saw you, a warm smile spreading across his face, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I'm using your kitchen," He said.

"It's fine," You replied, feeling a surge of affection. You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. Jay chuckled, clearly amused.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice light and teasing.

"You're warm," You said simply, resting your head against his back.

Jay laughed softly, "Well, breakfast is almost done."

You just smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. This was a moment you wanted to hold onto forever.

After finishing the delicious breakfast Jay had prepared, you both cleaned up the kitchen together, sharing light conversation and laughter. Once everything was tidied up, you suggested watching a movie, and Jay agreed with a smile. You both settled on the couch, picking a movie that you both liked.

After the movie, Jay turned to you with a mischievous smile, "I have a surprise for you," He said, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You tilted your head, feeling a mix of curiosity and confusion, "A surprise? What is it?"

Jay chuckled softly, "You'll see. Just get ready. Wear something comfortable."

You nodded, the anticipation building as you went to your room to change. After a few minutes, you returned, dressed and ready. Jay took your hand and led you to his car. The drive was filled with light chatter and laughter, but Jay kept the destination a secret.

When you finally arrived, Jay parked the car and turned to you with a playful grin, "Okay, now for the fun part," He said, pulling out a blindfold.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, "A blindfold? Really?"

Jay nodded, his grin widening, "Trust me, it'll be worth it."

You allowed him to tie the blindfold around your eyes, plunging you into darkness. Jay took your hand again, guiding you out of the car. As you walked, you felt the ground change beneath your feet, from pavement to something softer. Sand. You couldn't help but ask, "Where are we?"

Jay only chuckled, continuing to lead you forward. After a few more steps, he stopped, "Okay, you can take off the blindfold now."

You removed the blindfold and gasped. Before you was a beautiful picnic setup on the beach. The very same beach where you had once spilled your drink on Jay, a moment that had been both awkward and endearing. The sight was breathtaking—blankets, cushions, and a spread of delicious-looking food, all laid out under the soft glow of fairy lights.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took it all in, "Jay, this is... this is beautiful," You said, your voice trembling with emotion.

Jay smiled, his eyes filled with tenderness, “Just like you," He replied softly.

You wiped away a tear, still in awe, "How did you do all this?"

Jay chuckled, looking a bit sheepish, “I had some help. Jake, Sunghoon, and Heeseung pitched in."

You couldn't help but smile, knowing that even Heeseung had helped out. You turned to Jay, feeling a surge of affection, "Thank you," You whispered, leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss was sweet and filled with gratitude. You both settled down on the blankets, enjoying the food and each other's company. The sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore added to the magic of the evening.

As you ate, you couldn't help but steal glances at Jay, feeling incredibly lucky to have him in your life. The surprise, the effort, and the thoughtfulness behind it all made you realize just how much he cared. And in that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the beach and the warmth of Jay's presence, you felt truly happy.

As you guys finished eating and now watching the ocean crashing together with a beautiful sound, you found yourself glancing at Jay more than the scenery. The warmth of his presence and the memory of last night filled your mind.

You couldn't ignore the growing urge to close the distance between you two. Taking a deep breath, you turned towards Jay, who noticed your gaze and looked at you with curiosity.

Without overthinking it, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. Jay's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but then he responded, kissing you back gently. Encouraged by his response, you deepened the kiss, pouring all the emotions you had been feeling into it.

Jay's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The kiss grew more passionate, and you found yourself climbing onto his lap, straddling him. You continued kissing him, feeling the intensity of the moment building. Jay's hands roamed your back, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

You broke the kiss briefly to catch your breath, your foreheads resting against each other. Jay looked into your eyes, his expression a mix of happiness and something deeper. You smiled, and without a word, you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if you were both savoring every second.

The ocean and seagulls made noise in the background, but neither of you paid attention to it. All that mattered was the lust you felt in that moment, the unspoken feeling that Jay also feels. You continued kissing Jay, feeling a sense of rightness and contentment that you had never felt before.

You then broke the kiss again and suddenly went between his legs. Jay stares confused, but you just smiled innocently and stoked his cloth dick. He groaned and slowly threw his head back. You felt his dick becoming hard fast and played with the strap bands of his sweats.

You pulled them down softly with the help of him by lifting up his lower body. His dick slapped against his lower stomach. You drooled, staring at it and gently took it in your hands. He moaned and bit his lip. You gave it kitten licks before going to the tip, sucking it just a little, but giving it enough for Jay to want more.

You watched his expressions. His brows furrowed, his eyes hazed, hair still messy from last night, his mouth open and wanting to be kissed, his shirt sticking with sweat. You decided to stop the teasing and engulfed his dick fully. Jay let out a loud moan and held your head, trying to steady himself. You sucked it hard and slow making his head feel dizzy.

“Ah- Fuck! Have you done this before?” Jay questioned. If you haven’t, you're pretty good for a beginner. You looked up at him with those pretty eyes almost making him cum right then and there, but he held back. You tried shaking your head with his dick still in your mouth making him sigh feeling you bob against it.

You felt his balls tighten against your hands indicating he was gonna cum. Jay thrust up a few times making you gag before he finally came. Spurts of his cum going down your throat. He panted while still holding your head. You let go of his dick and wiped your mouth, “Did I do good?”

“You did amazing.” He smiled. You giggled and stood up. You watched Jay pull his boxers and sweatpants back up before grabbing your wrist making you lay right on top of him.

The only sound heard was the water splashing and Jay's heartbeat. You closed your eyes hearing it. It sounded so loud, and yet so calm. You couldn’t help but say those three words, “I love you.”

You felt Jay froze as he looked down at you. He then smiled and leaned to kiss you, “I love you too, pretty.” He said. You smiled back.

As you both continued watching the scenery, you felt a surge of happiness fill through your body. You loved Jay, since the moment he agreed to fake date you. You were glad that happened, unless none of this would have happened.

And as you looked at Jay once more, you knew he was the right man for you, and for the rest of your life.

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