Pulling At My Heartstrings This Was Sooo Good

Pulling at my heartstrings 😫 this was sooo good

closer.

PAIRING ▸ ravenclaw! jungwon x ravenclaw! reader

GENRE ▸ hogwarts! au, fake dating! au, f2ls, romance, angst, fluff, humor

SUMMARY ▸ your house’s prefect, yang jungwon, is the textbook definition of a ravenclaw. as a fellow housemate and friend, you’re certainly willing to help him out when he needs it. but when jungwon asks you to be his date for the yule ball, you don’t expect the trouble that follows.

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.7k

AKA you and jungwon are the definition of dumb and dumber. 

NOTES ▸ mentions of food, not proofread ???

part of the charms and chasers miniseries.

“WILL YOU BE MY DATE TO THE YULE BALL?”

certainly a great start to your breakfast in the great hall. you choke on your orange juice, not expecting those nine words to leave your house prefect’s mouth. you’re not sure if you’re lucky that your friends hadn’t arrived yet to witness such unexpected words or unlucky that they weren’t there to help you. 

“e-excuse me?”

yang jungwon shuffles around nervously, glancing around before he repeats his words. “listen, i’m really desperate. you’re the first person i saw who was available-“

your eyebrow quirks up at that. 

“-and this year they’re making the prefects dance the opening and I don’t have anyone to-“

you zone out. 

sure, you thought jungwon was a really nice and responsible prefect slash housemate. and sure, you thought he was literally the textbook definition of a ravenclaw, but you weren’t sure what to make of this. 

you would even consider jungwon a friend- if someone you only talked to a couple times a week for schoolwork counted as a friend. blinking, you return back to focus when you see jungwon staring at you with a half-desperate and half-embarrassed? look on his face.

you fumble, “uhm….”

it comes out utterly confused, your mind scattered at the abrupt confrontation. with his eyes boring into you, you look everywhere and anywhere but at jungwon. you just wanted a peaceful breakfast, not a massive heart rate spike in the early hours of the day. give credit to your social anxiety and personality to please everyone that made you stutter out a weak, “sure,” and shoot jungwon a half-grimace, half-grin. 

he practically deflates in relief, clasping his hands together tightly and thanking you countless times. biting your lip, you watch as he leaves and your friends come into view, making their way over to you. truly, you have no choice but to wonder what you just got yourself into. 

you find it awkward to talk to jungwon after the confrontation. should you say something to break the ice? after all, he was the one who asked you to be his date. 

or was he waiting for you to make the first move? 

you shake your head, overthinking really sucked. 

“did you finish the assignment for potions?”

you jump at the familiar voice, turning around in your seat to see jungwon looking at your expectantly, although the jittering of his knee below the table catches your eye. 

“oh. yeah. uh… did you?” 

“yep,” he nods shortly. silence overcomes you and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

why were you acting like this? jungwon was your friend (right?), so you shouldn’t be feeling afraid to hold a conversation with him, let alone look in his direction. 

“listen, about the other day,” he starts off and your body tenses. 

“i just wanted to apologize for asking you so out of the blue. i was kinda freaking out since i had to find a date really soon, so i’m sorry i put you on the spot like that. if you don’t want to go with me, that’s fine, i’ll just have to-“

again, jungwon starts rambling and a tiny smile makes its way onto your face. 

“jungwon. i said i would go with you, right?”

he pauses and nods slowly at that. 

“yeah, and i don’t go back on my word. as long as you’re good too, there’s nothing to worry about. how about we just stay as comfortable as we have been?” 

you attempt your best to give a reassuring smile and you think it works judging by jungwon’s sigh of relief. 

“o-of course. thanks y/n, a lot. i mean it.” 

you’re not sure but maybe that conversation broke down a wall and unlocked something in jungwon. because after that day, you felt a noticeable shift in your relationship. 

no more of the friendly surface level conversations about school- you came to learn much more about the ravenclaw yang jungwon. 

entering your house’s commonroom during a break, you’re pleasantly surprised to find jungwon sitting at a corner, looking focused as he scribbles furiously on a sheet of parchment paper. 

there was no harm in sitting with your friend, right? that thought crossed your mind as you strolled over and took the seat across from him. 

for a couple of seconds, jungwon doesn’t even seem to notice your presence. you watch with amusement at the way his eyebrows furrow. what could he be so focused on? 

the sound of your name being called out questioningly brings you out of your thoughts. you look up to find jungwon studying you with wide eyes, a sight unexpectedly cuter than you thought. you internally slap yourself. 

“y/n! what are you doing here?”

you shrug, “wanted some peace and quiet during break. just happened to see you here so i…” your voice begins to falter, “thought it was okay to join you?”

jungwon smiles his trademark prefect smile and you almost choke. “yeah. i don’t mind at all.”

coughing, you glance around the empty room before looking at him again. “what are you working on?”

he lets out a exhausted sigh, and as a ravenclaw yourself, you’ve heard that too many times to count. 

“well, the riddle to enter the common room changed so i had to go around telling all the clueless first-years what the answer was. then i finished the herbology research and had to go on patrol. finally i guess i came here for peace and quiet, like you.”

an eyebrow of yours raises. “and yet you look like you’re still working hard?” 

he glances at you sheepishly, “helping complete a third-year’s defense against the dark arts homework?” 

“helping or struggling?” you snicker, and jungwon pouts. 

“not struggling entirely,” he defends himself and you send him a look, scooting closer to see the sheet better. 

you squint at the questions, faintly remembering the content on the page. as you explain to jungwon, you see his eyes light up as he begins to remember. 

while watching him write down the answer, you smile to yourself. 

“you have a lot on your plate, yet you always seem to be so on top of things still. it’s crazy. i really admire you for it.” 

the sound of scribbling stops. 

his lips purse together as he stares down at the half-filled paper in front of him. 

“thanks, but it’s not exactly ideal when that’s what it only seems like. in all honestly, i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. finding you as my date for the ball lessened half the load on me.”

perhaps there was much more to jungwon that you didn’t know about. you suppress a laugh, “was it really that hard?” 

“it was so bad,” he whines, and you resist the urge to reach out and pet his top of his fluffy hair. 

“then, i’m glad i was able to help you, mr. ravenclaw’s perfect prefect.” 

you can only laugh as he protests to no avail. 

as you leave charms, you pat jungwon’s shoulder. 

“good luck on your test- and don’t worry. you always overthink.”

he sticks his tongue out at you, “shouldn’t i be the one telling that to you?” 

with a huff and a shake of your head, you bid him goodbye. your friends are left on the side to watch your interaction with the boy, eyes zeroing in on you. 

“what was that about?” wonyoung sneakily slides in, giving you the side-eye. you give her an innocent look in response, “what was what about?”

“don’t try me. you know, the budding relationship between you and yang jungwon?” 

you roll your eyes at that. “what budding relationship? we’re friends. we’ve been friends. you know that.” 

she hums, “yes, but i’m also your friend. so,” she drawls on, “i’m telling you right now to tell me what the deal is. there’s obviously something going on.” 

at that, you’re not sure what to say. you have no clue if the ‘situation’ between you and jungwon was public knowledge or not. 

that being you as jungwon’s date to the ball.

the yule ball hadn’t become a huge topic amongst the school yet, mainly because it wasn’t announced to the student body yet. 

jungwon knew early as a prefect and asked you, so you figured you had to keep everything a secret. even to your friends. especially to your friends. 

who knew the amount of teasing you would be succumbed to for having jungwon as your date? 

you shiver. not exactly an ideal situation after all. 

what you didn’t realize, was that the news would be released during breakfast the next day. 

once the yule ball’s exactly details were announced, the great hall erupted in conversation.

“y/n!” kazuha calls your name from across the table with a gleam in her eyes. you turn to her with an easy smile, kazuha was like an older sister to you and you loved her. 

“are you going with anyone?” your friends turn to you expectantly, and your palms begin to sweat with all the attention. 

“w-well, you see-“ you glance around desperately for help but there appears to be no one. you’re not sure why but something in your chest tightens. 

you just can’t tell them the truth. it was so simple, yet something was keeping you from saying that you were going with jungwon. 

“er, i’m so sorry but i have somewhere to be- you know, i have to water my homework!” you blurt out quickly and grab your stuff before basically flying out of the great hall, leaving your friends to share confused looks. 

you turn the corner to an empty hallway and place a hand on your pounding chest. great job y/n, great job running away indeed. 

you take a small breather, closing your eyes and laying against the wall before blearily opening them again. your vision focuses on a clock in front of you, and you suddenly come to. 

“shoot, i’m late!” 

you just barely manage to make it to the ballroom. chest heaving, you noisily push past into the room, attracting everyone’s attention. you can only stare back, in a daze and gasping for air. 

the professor turns to you. 

“oh, wonderful! you must be mr. yang’s date to the ball!” 

as gasps fill the air, you almost collapse right then and there. 

“-jungwon’s date?” 

“does that mean they’re dating?”

“they have to be! did you see the way jungwon looked so worried when y/n didn’t show up?” 

amidst the mess, you find jungwon staring back at you with an apologetic gaze. as awkward as it is, you drag your feet over to your rightful spot next to him. while the professor goes over the details, you quietly apologize for being late. 

“i’m so sorry, i totally forgot what time you told me-“

“hey,” he interrupts, a hand reaching out to squeeze yours quickly. “it’s okay. at least you’re here now. that’s all that matters.“

curse jungwon for getting you into this mess and being so nice about it. you refocus on the task at hand, and as the words fill your ears, you feel the blood drain from your body. 

of course, the whole ball was about dancing. 

another thing you didn’t know about jungwon. he’s freaking good at everything. besides being smart, kind, attractive- you slap yourself once more- 

he’s also good at dancing? 

you can’t count the amount of times you had to apologize to jungwon that day, whether it be for stepping on his feet or literally existing. 

you shouldn’t have been surprised, honestly.  after that day of rehearsing, you couldn’t catch a break. 

you were still nursing your sore legs later when wonyoung quite literally attacks you in the courtyard. you were contentedly studying on a bench, papers in front of you. that is, until she practically leaps on you and makes all your notes blow off into the surrounding air. 

your lips purse into a thin line. what could it be now? 

“you’re dating yang jungwon?” 

your jaw drops as if she wasn’t just talking about you. 

“what did you just say?”

she grabs you by the shoulders, pupils blown. “it’s been spreading everywhere, y/n! why didn’t you tell me? or-“

her words fall on deaf ears as you stalk off with one mission in mind. 

it isn’t hard for you to find jungwon, you already knew what his next class was. but to see all the eyes on you as you drag him away and to the room of requirements for privacy was something else. 

jungwon doesn’t even get a word in as you force him to sit in an empty chair, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

“what is-“

“you tell me. what in the name of dumbledore is going on, jungwon?” you stare at him accusingly. 

when he avoids your eyes, you know your hunch is confirmed. 

"you see…”

“i see?” you prompt.

“all my friends kept teasing me about you… so i kinda forgot to mention that i asked you out on a whim, a-as a friend,” he manages to fumble out. 

it’s not hard for you to put two and two together. you pinch your nose bridge, “so you chickened out and said we were dating?” 

he visibly deflates. 

“yeah. basically.” 

you bite your lip, “but why would you do that? it’s not a bad thing for two people, who are friends, to go to the yule ball together. is it?” 

jungwon sighs and just says, “it would be embarrassing if my friends found out that i couldn’t find anyone and asked you randomly. literally i would never hear the end of it. i know already embarrassing enough for the both of us, and it’s all my fault, but can you please go along with it until the ball‘s over?”

you hesitate, and he stares at you with those pleading eyes again. curse yang jungwon. 

“we can just pretend for a short bit. it’ll be harmless, and after that we can just go back to normal.” 

harmless? normal? 

you weigh your options in your head. wouldn’t it be situation escalate even more if you denied the rumors after he confirmed them? maybe you should have thought about your answer more, but it was too late. 

“fine,” you exhale, “but you owe me a favor. history of magic tutoring because it’s literally the most boring class.” 

“o-of course. i really owe you one.” 

it was a long process coming up with a story. but surprisingly easier than you thought. 

“can’t we just say we were friends and then i asked you out?” jungwon frowns. 

you scoff, “really now? how realistic does that seem to you?”

he clears his throat. “fine. we’ll say that you asked me out and things just went on from there.” 

facing your friends was the hardest part. you had to give them the fake apologetic look and explain. 

“we wanted to keep it a secret at first. you know, since it was so new to us…” 

“you know, i’m honestly not that surprised. I could definitely picture you guys being together before anyone said anything,” haerin chimes in. 

you swallow your spit a little too harshly. before long, sounds of agreement fill the air and you actually want to transfigure into a fly and escape out the window. 

you let out a strained laugh, “really? i’m surprised.” 

wonyoung frowns, “i’m still mad you kept it from me but i have to agree. you guys look good together.” 

you splutter, “you haven’t even seen us together!” 

she shrugs innocently, “i’ve always been watching you two.” 

“creep.”

“whipped.” 

some ground rules were established between you and jungwon. rules never to be broken within your expected duration of (not) dating. 

first, no kissing, obviously. hand holding was fine, hugs were fine, just nothing too far. second, no cheesy nicknames (merlin’s beard, never). you settled on won for jungwon and he settled on- you pause- what did he settle on? after you suggested won, he seemed to be too preoccupied (with reddened ears) to focus on making one for you. 

third. walking to class together was necessary to keep the act up and study “dates” in the library (aka your side of the deal) were every thursday. 

“I think that settles it,” you glance at your list in satisfaction. 

“wait-” jungwon says abruptly before faltering. 

“what?” you glance at him curiously. “are we missing something?”

he mutters something under his breath and you lean in closer. 

“you can just say it,” you shake your head in amusement, “it’s not like this is a strict, by the book set of rules.” 

“clothes!” jungwon manages to get out, “like- don’t couples share clothes and stuff like that? but if you’re not comfortable with that-“ 

you fall silent. 

jungwon takes note of your lack of reaction and rubs his hands nervously. 

“o-or not, we don’t have to-“

“okay,” you say quietly, all of a sudden your fingers seemed much more interesting to look at than the boy in front of you. was it just you or did the room feel a bit too hot? 

you found jungwon’s scarf to be a bit big and a bit itchy, but comfortable. the first thing you noticed when you put it on was that it smelled like him. 

jungwon smiled softly, “it looks good on you.” 

you blink, almost feeling the soft material tug at your heartstrings. “oh. thanks.” 

“see you later at lunch,” he waves and you wave back with a soft smile.

besides the teasing from your friends, you found it to be quite nice- including the extra tutoring from smartie jungwon. 

“i don’t get it. who cares about who started the goblin rebellion of 1289?”

jungwon chuckles in amusement, “the professor does, that’s who. and you will too since your marks depend on it.”

you groan, planting your cheek on the wooden library table. habitually, jungwon pokes your cheek. 

“come on. we won’t finish until 12 if we stop now.”

you let out a muffled protest.

“y/l/nnnn-“ he drags out the last syllable. 

you turn your head so your cheek rests on the table, but you can still see him staring back at you with a fond expression. 

“don’t want to.” 

sighing, jungwon puts the textbook aside and puts his head down so he’s directly facing you. your breath hitches at the close proximity.

at this closeness, you can every speck of light in his eyes. the moles on his face, the eyebags that you’re sure you share as well. 

“i’ll make an excuse so you don’t have to attend the next dance lesson,” he says softly, and his breath tickles your cheek. 

“deal,” you whisper back. 

and yet neither one of you can seem to get up from your position. 

“you guys are sickeningly cute.” 

at this point, it was becoming a regular. after the shock of you and jungwon “dating” had subsided came the admirers and fans.

you laugh dryly, dropping jungwon’s hand and ignoring the look of confusion and protest he sends your way. to make up for it, you lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek.  only for a split second do you see the surprised look on his face before it’s wiped away with an easy smile. 

“see you later, won.” 

“bye, baby.” 

again, you pretend not to hear the cooing and awwing from your friends behind you. 

“you even have nicknames?” 

“he’s such a nice boyfriend to walk you to your classes.” 

you shift uncomfortably in your position. “yeah…” 

what was bad was that you had gotten a little too used to it- acting as a couple with jungwon. what was worse was that you were starting to like it. 

he comes to pick you up after class is over. and walk you to lunch. usually jungwon would drop you off at your designated seat with your friends and go to his friends, but today he was stopped by some third years. 

“hey prefect! could you help do my research paper for potions?” 

at the first sign of jungwon’s uneasiness, you frown. it wasn’t the first time you witnessed his stress and exhaustion of being a prefect- and simply a kind person. 

you knew he always tried to help out whenever he could. that was his duty, and his personal values. but the days spent observing him literally pulling his hair out over other people’s issues wasn’t making it any better. 

“excuse me,” you step out in front of jungwon, “but my boyfriend here isn’t your homework machine. he’s a human, and he’s perfectly willing to help you guys out- not do you work for you because of your laziness.” 

jungwon’s eyes widen, mouth opened to object, but you angrily take his hand and drag him out of the great hall to a quieter place. 

“y/n- you didn’t have to-“

“they were taking advantage of you. they always do. you have your own problems and those kids need to learn how to do things for themselves.” you were internally fuming and not about to hear jungwon defend them. 

“but it’s my job as-“

“i don’t care about your prefect duties, i care about you!” 

he freezes and your voice noticeably loses its strength, “you’re my friend. of course i care about you.” 

“yeah… right,” he manages to whisper before stalking away, leaving you alone and confused. 

you hadn’t seen jungwon in a while. it’s like he was personally avoiding you, but you had no idea why. 

he stopped walking you to class, showing up for tutoring on thursdays- completely and utterly avoiding you without a single word. 

you couldn’t even approach him, it’s like you didn’t even exist. you replayed that days events in your mind over and over, picking apart each and every interaction. 

what did you do? what did you say? 

“don’t worry, y/n. he’s just going through a tough time probably and wants to be alone. just give him time,” kazuha reassures you. 

wrong, you think bitterly but don’t voice your thoughts. jungwon wasn’t the type to do that, or so you believed. 

the yule ball was still coming up and now you had to practice dancing alone, rehearsing every step in the dark with an imaginary partner. 

you didn’t even know if you were still going with jungwon, but something in you made you feel obligated to at least get the moves down. if any tiny hope in you still said so. 

the day before the ball, one last practice, you thought you heard a sound but when you looked, there was no one. it was probably just your imagination hoping jungwon would show up out of nowhere. 

sweaty and breathless, you lay down in the middle of the ground. and let the sadness wash over you. 

“are you sure you’re not going?” 

you smile sadly, curling up tighter under your blue covers. “nah, i’m good.” 

“but-“

“really,” you insist, “i’ll join later.” 

as the door clicks shut and silent fills the room, you stare up at the highlighted ceiling, sprinkled with stars. stars alike the ones you saw in jungwon’s eyes. 

you rub a hand over your face, throwing the covers off you. 

screw it. 

you need to do this. 

scrambling out of the room with one heel on and the other untied, you hastily managed to dash over to the ballroom. soft music floated over through the doors, and you curse. 

were you too late for the introductory dance? 

releasing a heavy breath, you push past the doors and stumble to a halt. 

your eyes fall upon the familiar prefects positioned in the middle of the room, all students surrounding on the sides. 

and finally, you spot jungwon next to the dance professor. 

everyone’s eyes are on you, but for once you only seem to care about one person’s. 

the professor silently sighs in relief, 

“thank goodness. prefects and respective partners, take your places!”

blood rushing in your ears and adrenaline effectively coursing through your veins, you take each step carefully towards jungwon. 

he has an unreadable expression on his face, which makes your stomach churn. you take your positions as practiced, and your hand tingles when his touches yours. 

it’s silent at first, the period of waiting for the music to start, but once the music begins, jungwon speaks under his breath. 

“you look beautiful.” 

your heart skips a beat and slowly, your eyes flicker to his face. he doesn’t look at you, instead focusing on executing the moves perfectly. 

“you look handsome,” you whisper back. 

the dance proceeds smoothly in the beginning, as if you had practiced a hundred times. but nearing the end, you falter at one move and bite your lip, hoping not too many people noticed. 

“you’re doing good. three… four…”

you look eyes with him, surprised, and in that moment, your breath is taken away. time pauses and the music fades. everything else doesn’t matter in the moment, 

it’s only you and him.  

with jungwon’s encouragement, you’re able to finish the routine without another mistake. and when the dance ends and applause begins, you quickly take his hand before he can run away again, grip desperate. 

“can we please talk?” eyes pleading, he has no choice but to listen. 

finding an empty corridor, you face him on the other side, leaning against the wall. it’s completely silent, so you clench your fists. 

“could you explain why you ignored me for the past week? please explain what i did to you?”

“it doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head, “after today, we don’t have to do this anymore. everything i put you through will be over, because that’s what you want, right?” 

you groan in frustration. 

“who said i want that? what if i say i don’t want it to be over? what if i want answers from you so we can go back to how we were? fake lovers, real lovers, i don’t care! i can’t keep acting, i just want you back in my life,” your voice cracks at the end. 

his hands fall to his side. 

“what do you mean?” he responds shakily. you can barely see him in the darkness, so you take a few steps closer. 

“are you that dense? because i don’t think so.”

another step. 

you realized, and you knew. thursdays became your favorite day of the week. no, any day spent with jungeon was your favorite day. you had become too comfortable supposedly acting with him for all of it to be a lie. and it wasn’t. your feelings weren’t a lie. 

“i think i should be asking you that question.” 

you stop, head cocking to the side. 

“what-“

he pushes off from his spot on the wall, and you feel the action. blinking, you didn’t realize how close you had gotten. 

the newfound confidence seems to fade when jungwon fiddles with his tie, “i wouldn’t have asked you to be my date if i didn’t like you…” 

you clear your throat awkwardly, “so the whole you’re the first person i eyes on and was available was a lie?” 

“somewhat,” he defends himself, “i didn’t know what would happen, but you really were the first person that i was comfortable enough with to ask. it just so happened that i liked you as well. i dunno- things just happened and we got closer.”

“then why did you push me away?”

he sighs, “because i thought you didn’t feel the same way. i got too caught up in being your fake boyfriend so i tried to prepare myself to go back to the way we were before. just friends.” 

you lean in, just a barely. “but now we both know- that’s not what we want.” 

his face was just an inch apart. you could feel his nose tickle the side of your face. 

“what do you want?”

“this.” 

and you proceed to smash your lips on his.   

bonus :) 

“you’re just lucky that i practiced.”

“alone too,” you add with a fake dramatic turn of your head (jungwon internally melts at the sight of you acting like a little kid), “like a maniac in the ballroom during the wee hours of the night.” 

jungwon lets out a melodious laugh, squeezing your hand and sending you a guilty smile. 

“i know.” 

you straighten up, "excuse me?” 

“i saw you during patrol that night,” he explains, “technically no one is allowed there past hours, but i let you stay.”

you frown but suddenly gasp at the recollection, “it was you back then!”

he blushes. 

“you were watching me?”

“of course, i always was.” 

a/n ▸ hehe as a ravenclaw i had to do this :>

MAIN TAGLIST ▸  @precioussoulofmine @lov3niki @heesterical @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii

SERIES TAGLIST ▸ @ritsusakumasgf @minimarkive @lilactangerine @shinsou-rii @ahnneyong @nomniki @nyanggk @imtaehyungry @seattlesolace @allthegirlsmialoved @annoyingbitch83 @jakahbot @leeis @heavenforatlas @acciocriativity @loveza1nab @juliemr0 @en-martieru @uomre

UNABLE TO TAG ▸ @/27melodies

send an ask/dm to be added to the ‘charms and chasers’ taglist!

Super cute SMAU for Niki! ❤️ super funny, lighthearted and cute!

WHO THE HELL IS NI-KI ?! - NRK SMAU

; SYNOPSIS - school sucks. especially when everyone's avoiding you like the plague - all because you're the principal's daughter. so it comes as a surprise when a strip of paper falls out of your locker one day, with a corny pick up line written on it. now you only have one question on your mind: who the hell is nishimura riki?

; PAIRING - riki x fem!reader

; STATUS - ongoing!

; TAGS - smau, fluff, crack (more like attempt at humor), high school au, riki is a menace, hyper x calm dynamics?? ; WARNINGS - swearing, dirty jokes/pick up lines (maybe??)

; AUTHOR’S CORNER ! i just love starting something new before finishing my other wips 😍 i've made it so the first part of the pick up line is on the masterlist here, and the punchline is on the title of the actual chapter. this is inspired by this pjo smau on ao3 (LMAO??) + my own experiences bc i also slipped a bunch of pick up lines in random lockers

SPAM LIKE = BLOCK !

➼ PROFILES ! losers club ; riki's pr team

PROLOGUE ! all the good pick up lines are taken…

ONE ! i don't need google anymore...

TWO ! i’m so jealous of ur phone…

THREE ! are you fortnite?…

BONUS ! let's play a game of tag...

FOUR ! do you listen to newjeans?…

FIVE ! "nothing is faster than light"...

SIX ! something is wrong with my phone…

SEVEN ! do you play quidditch?...

EIGHT ! this doughnut is pretty sweet…

NINE ! you look familiar, did we share a class?…

TEN ! we should probably social distance…

ELEVEN ! are you 0x1 = lovesong?…

TWELVE ! are you an unfunny meme?…

THIRTEEN ! hey, is it morning yet?…

13.5 ! i can’t hold a conversation…

FOURTEEN ! instead of liking my message…

FIFTEEN ! your hand looks heavy… ↳ written [2.1k] + smau

SIXTEEN ! be careful bumping into others…

SEVENTEEN ! are you a trap?…

EIGHTEEN ! are you the children i keep in my basement?…

NINETEEN ! is it the fire works…

TWENTY ! i’ll give you a kiss… ↳ written [1.5k]

EPILOGUE ! i can’t think of any more pick up lines…

; TAGLIST (open!) perm . @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii @haechansbbg @gweoriz @maoyueze networks . @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels . send an ask or comment here to be added!

Baked with Love

Summary: You once dreamed of having your bakery where everyone could use it as a safe refuge from reality, similar to the shop from your childhood. It seems to work as one of the famous boy groups uses it to hang out to temporarily escape the spotlight, especially by one member who seems to be fond of the place. Genre: Fluff Pairing: Idol! Jungwon x Baker Fem! Reader Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: Slow-burn (?); the reader is slightly oblivious; mutual-pinning (?); the introduction is too long, it took 1k words before Jungwon is introduced lol; the reader and Jungwon is both in their mid-20s Author's Note: This is my first time writing fanfic, so I apologize if the story does not fit to your liking. 😅 English is also not my first language, so forgive me for the wrong grammar and lack of vocabulary. 😔 I will try my best next time. ☺ Regardless, I'm hoping that you all will like this. Enjoy reading! ☺

Ever since you were a child, you've been wanting to own a bakeshop. You remember how you accidentally stumbled into this shop when you tried to hide from the kid who constantly bullies you. Your trembling body and the constant sob that came from your mouth magically disappeared when you saw a bunch of colorful pastries displayed on those shiny glass cabinets.

You recall how the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies engulfs your small body with a sense of comfort, and the soft jazz music that plays in the background whispers in your ear, easing your fear.

"Why is such a pretty young lady having a sad look on her face?" `You look up to the source of the soft voice, and your eyes settle on the old lady on the counter with a warm, gentle smile on her face.  You intertwine your little hands and shyly look down.

"I am hiding," you mumbled.

"Hiding?" You nodded. You heard a footstep coming near you, then a gentle hand rubbing your small back.

"Why don't you eat something while you hide?" You look up once again at the lady. You see how those wrinkles stretch with the soft smile she has on her face; that softness somehow brings security to you.

"Cookies?" you said in wonder. The lady let out a giggle when you spoke with sweetness, your eyes twinkling in the process. How can she turn down such a cute lady like you?

"Yes, cookies! And you can also have some of those sweets that we have!" You wipe your teary eyes, then hold the hand of the old lady and let her guide you to the rest of the shop with the widest smile on your face.

At that moment, the little Y/N always finds herself munching on sweet pastries in the old lady's bakeshop. The shop becomes your escape, which eases your worries about the bullies. In return, you try to assist the old lady with baking by simply putting flour on measuring cups, cracking eggs, and sometimes kneading the dough.

However, the shop that had grown to be your safe refuge was lost when the old lady died from sickness. Due to this, the bakery has to be taken down, as no one claims to continue the business. You remember crying for days because of the sudden loss of the person you adored and the shop that became your home.

That event brings blossoms to your dreams of having a similar cozy shop where people entering the place instantly light up their eyes when they are greeted by rows of pastries that you freshly bake with passion.

You looked up to the small shop where there were tables outside, each with a brown vintage-style umbrella with brilliant lighting inside. You smiled when you saw the big signage that left you sleepless for nights from thinking of a perfect name for the shop.

'Sweet Greets Bakery'

As you make your way through the transparent door, a blanket of the sweet smell of baked pastries engulfs your now-grown body bringing back your childhood memories of the old lady's bakeshop. You also smell the roasted coffee beans that saturate the air.

As you grow older, coffee becomes your best buddy every time you pull all-nighters, which becomes endless when you enter college. Drinking coffee also helps you relax your mind while reading your favorite book on weekends, which fuels your growing addiction.

Because of this, you consider offering various coffee and tea drinks that will perfectly match the pastries that you bake.

"Noona?" You looked at the counter and saw one of your employees with wide eyes. You chuckle at his reaction like he has seen a ghost.

"Hi!" You greeted as you joined him at the counter.

"You're back!" He joyfully exclaims and even claps in excitement. A door from the storage room burst open, slightly startling you. You saw two ladies emerge from the room with the same disbelief on their faces.

"Unnie!" You let out a giggle when they engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug. You wrap your arms around the two teenagers and return the gestures while swaying their bodies from side to side.

 "We miss you!" Narae one of your employees pouted. You playfully flick the girl's head.

"I'm only gone for a week, 'Rae"

"Still" she mumbles while massaging her forehead. You only shook your head at her silliness and reached for the brown cap under the counter that was similarly worn by the three teens.

"How's Switzerland?" Chuwon asked while drying the mug using the table napkin designated for it.

"As usual, loaded with work." You sigh. Owning a bakery is your ultimate dream, and you did achieve it. However, the process of getting you where you are right now is a rough path. You apply for different jobs and dribble tons of tasks to save money for your dream shop, and up until now, you’re still doing it to keep your business running.

And it happens that one of the jobs for which you apply requires you to travel to different places. It gives you a lot of money, so you have no problem with it. Although it somehow makes you feel sad as it lessens your time to spend working on your bakery.

"Did you find yourself a potential Swiss boyfriend?" Seoyun asked while wiggling her eyes, helping you to divert your attention from stressful work. You pulled your tied hair on the hole at the back of the cap and slightly tugged the visor to adjust it in your head before sending the girl a playful glare.

"I have no time for that." A disappointed groan erupted from the three teenagers at your reply. You only chuckle and shake your head while continuing to put on your brown apron. Being the only full-grown adult working in the bakeshop with the civil status of single, your young employees can't help but wonder about your romantic life.

But your reply stands true; you have no time to get into a romantic relationship.

Nevertheless, it does not mean that you will turn it down once you meet someone who captures your heart. You, yourself are a hopeless romantic. The books in the romance genre displayed on the bookshelves at the right corner of your shop say it all.

And if it happens that your 'the one' walks someday in your mundane then, who are you to deny. Right?

The sound of a bell chimes in, indicating that someone has entered the shop. You immediately smile and greet the customers with enthusiasm.

"Hello, welcome to Sweet Greets Bakery!" You bowed along with your three employees. You saw the seven young men return the gestures and proceed to the counter while looking at the menu drink display at your back and the pastries on the glass displays. You keep your genuine smile on while waiting for their orders.

You can't help but observe that every single one of them has different fashion styles, which you can easily identify by whether they are into casual style, semi-formal, aesthetic, or just want to wear comfy clothes. They have different tastes, but it seems like they all get along as they are in tune with each other while discussing their orders.

The only similarity they have at this point is that all of them wore facemasks that covered half of their faces.

"Good morning! We would like to order a three-chocolate chip Frappuccino, two iced Americanos, one vanilla latte, and a mint chocolate drink." You nodded at the guy who wore a snapback and quickly punched their order on the monitor in front of you.

"Would you like to add some pastries to match your drinks?" You ask politely. All of them look once again at the glass cabinets where the pastries are displayed.

"Ah, we'll take slices of chocolate and strawberry cake. That's all." You smile and completely place their orders.

"That will be 71,432.91 won." The men look in unison at the guy whose fashion style gives you rich uncle vibes.

The man flinches and then lets out a disappointed sigh while reaching for his pocket. He gives you his black card, and you quickly slide it at the card reader. You heard them all chuckle at the poor man and slap his butt for comfort.

"You can find comfortable seats while we arrange your orders. Thank you!" You gleefully thank them as you give back the card accompanied by a receipt and a small round pager with your two hands.

"I bet they're idols" Narae whispers beside you as you grind some coffee beans. You saw her staring at those men on her tippy toes to get a better look.

"How'd you know?" You wonder. Although you grow up in a country where being an idol is everyone else's dream and exposes people to that kind of industry at an early young age, you seem clueless about it. Guess your mind is so focused on building a bakery that you missed that part as you grew up.

And it seems that you're right when Narae looks at you like you just grew two heads.

"Unnie, look!" She simply gestures at the men who found themselves sitting in a secluded corner, quietly observing the interior of your humble shop.

"They are obviously wearing masks to avoid the crazy media" she pointed out.

"They're seated at the back of the shop, so fans won't notice them." Seoyun chimed in beside you.

"And they chose this small, unfamiliar bakeshop so no one would find their location" Chuwon added. The three squeeze themselves beside you, looking at the men while hiding behind a huge espresso machine.

"They're indeed idols" all of them whisper at you in unison. You shook your head at their silliness and poked their sides, which earned you squeals and giggles.

"Okay, okay. If they are idols, then we need to stop staring and leave them alone." You scold, to which you only receive a playful stick of their tongue before they proceed to help you with the orders.

While filling the cups with ice cubes, you can't help but glance at those men. Chuwon is right; your bakery is still unfamiliar since it is new and has only been running for five months. Although there aren't a lot of customers, you remain optimistic as your business has only just started.

If ever those young men are indeed idols, then you're glad they found your bakery a safe place to hang out, even just for a minute. That's been the main purpose of your shop: to become a safe refuge for everyone, even an idol. With those thoughts in mind, it made you smile throughout the day.

Weeks passed, those young men kept coming back to your bakeshop, to the point that you already memorized their regular orders. Due to this, your three employees become busy browsing the internet to find out which group these mysterious men belong to.

You put both of your hands on your hips when you saw the three once again inside the storage room, gathering in front of your laptop to find the identity of these men during their lunch breaks.

"I told you to quit doing that, you're invading their privacy." Your words fell on deaf ears when they didn't even give you a single glance. You sighed and decided to leave them alone. You proceed instead to stack the single pack of colorful macarons that you made last night.

"Oh my god!" Your head snaps back at the storage room where you hear the scream.

"Unnie, your bakeshop will finally become famous!" Narae squeals once you enter the room.

"What?" Your brows furrow.

"Noona! Those men are hella popular!' "Chuwon exclaims.

"They’re Enhypen!" The three shouted. You were startled by their loud voices, which made you put your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart.

"Okay," You calmly respond. "What's the connection of them making my bakeshop famous?" you dumbfoundedly ask.

"Unnie, if people saw them here in your shop, there would be plenty of customers who would come here to see them. And if they came here, they would also buy your delicious pastries because their idols seemed to like them for constantly coming here." Seoyun explains with matching exaggerated hand gestures.

"So you're saying we would expose them that they've been constantly hanging out here to make the bakery well-known?"

"Exactly!" The three of them exclaim in unison like you just announced that you won the lottery. Their faces lit up when you pulled out the sweetest smile you could muster.

"No." You flatly said. Their jaws dropped as they didn't expect you to disagree despite knowing that it would help your shop. Just like a light switch, your face suddenly turned serious.

"We're not going to use their vulnerability so we can gain something. Leave them alone and let them enjoy the privacy they have in this shop." You put back your sweet smile.

"If I ever find out that you all still did it behind my back, your vacation leave will be denied." You warned on sing-song and returned to the counter when you heard the chime of the bell.

And it seems that your threatening worked when more weeks passed and those men still went to your bakery without getting recognized or mobbed. You're thankful; however, the three are starting to become their fans that the only topic you can hear from their mouths is about the group's music, variety shows, and concerts.

The slow jazz that was used to play in the background in your shop? It was now replaced by the group's songs.

Although sometimes you find yourself humming and bobbing your head to their music.

But the soft jazz music makes a comeback to your bakery, as today is the start of the exam week. Meaning, the three crackheads are off duty as you did not allow them to work during the exam.

The shop is not that busy, so you have no problem handling the tasks alone for a week. As a good employer, you want them to focus on their studies without worrying about their work shift.

The day went by quickly, and the night sky was quickly blanketed with stars that stretched to infinity. The pale crescent moon started to shine like a silver claw, outshining the bright city lights.

The night just started; however, for your shop, it's closing time.

You often close your shop by 10 p.m., but since you don't have any staff around, you decided to close it earlier as it becomes dangerous for a lone worker to work at a very late hour, which you also strictly apply to your three employees, especially since they are minors.

As you neared the door to flip the 'open' signage to 'closed,' the bell chimed in for the last time. Then a man in his iconic orange hoodie steps into the shop.

"Hi, thank you for visiting, but we're closing early," you sadly informed. The guy's tired eyes flickered with sadness before he nodded and turned around without a word to reach for the door.

You felt your heart squeeze with sadness as you saw how tired his eyes were. Even though his face is hidden with a mask and a thick black beanie, you can practically imagine the dejection on his face. You felt like you had failed to fulfill the main purpose of your shop.

"But if you want, you can stay while I'm tidying the shop" you tried to offer. The man halted his step and looked at you with hopeful eyes.

"Is that alright?" He asked. His voice immediately sends a tingling sensation to your body that you cannot explain. This is your first time hearing his voice, despite him constantly coming into your shop since his friend often order for the rest of them.

His voice is so soft and soothing, yet it sounds very manly.

"Yup, it's not a problem," you quickly reassure him. You heard him heave a sigh and bow at you.

"Thank you." You smiled and returned the gesture.

"You want your usual?" You continued to flip the signage and went to the counter to prepare the food he usually orders.

"Yes, please." You give him a thumbs up and quickly arrange his meal.

Instead of sitting in the back corner, where he and his friends are usually seated, he opted for the table near the counter you were working on. For the first time, he removed his mask and proceeded to busy himself on the phone.

Although the group often visits your shop, they are still cautious about removing their masks; they only do it if the food is ready to dig in. So, seeing him remove it comfortably surprised you a little.

If you remember correctly from the various videos and images that are forcefully shoved in your face by your annoying staff, his name is Jungwon. He is Seoyun's bias, as she claimed that she was captured by his cute but manly features, his adorable yet savage personality, and mostly by being an amazing singer and performer on stage.

A complete package, according to Seoyun.

Even though you cannot confirm any of those claims against the man as you don't know him and don't pay much attention to the group's performances that your three employees are constantly watching, you can totally agree with one thing that Seoyun said.

He is indeed handsome.

"Here's your chocolate chip frappuccino and strawberry cake. Enjoy!" You smile as you serve the food on his table. For once, you saw him smile, and although you could tell it was a tired smile, that still didn't stop his dimple from showing and his eyes from forming into a crescent moon.

You quickly turned around like a soldier in training and tightly hugged the tray in front of your chest when you felt your heart suddenly beating like a horse on a race track. You don't know why your heart reacted to a simple expression, so you tried to shrug it off and didn't make it a big deal.

As you put the cake and pastries back in their respective containers before placing it in the refrigerators to preserve them, you take a quick glance at your only customer for the night.

You immediately stopped in your tracks when you saw him leaning on his knees with eyes closed while pinching the bridge of his nose.

From the look of it, he must have been stressed out about something that made him this exhausted. You felt a wave of sadness as you could practically imagine how tired he must have felt.

You can't help but wonder. 'Is being an idol can be this draining?'

Now, you were pondering whether it would be a good or bad idea to give him a slice of Oreo cheesecake that you baked yesterday to try to cheer him up. Plus, this cake is still not officially on the menu yet, so you can't help but overthink if he will like it or will find you weird as you try to offer him something.

As you paced back and forth inside the storage room while eyeing the poor cake, the bell rang from the counter which is used for the customer to call a staff member. You were startled by the sound and hastily put the sliced cake in the box.

"Done?" You politely ask when you see him waiting in front of the counter. He lightly smile and nodded in reply. You smile and punches his order to the monitor to compute the total of his purchase.

While waiting for the receipt to be printed out, your mind is still trying to contemplate if you're going to give him the piece of cake. You bit the side of your cheek when you gave him the receipt, and he started to make his way to the door. You sigh and give yourself a try.

"W-wait" you called out. He immediately turned around and gently raised his brows at you. You secretly pinch your side to give yourself courage. You left the counter and finally gave him the box.

"I can't help but notice that you seem quite a bit exhausted." You averted your eyes to the floor as you felt yourself getting embarrassed. "H-here's a piece of Oreo cheesecake to cheer you up a little" you nervously said, while slightly nudging the box at him.

"Oh, no. I've been intruding on you too much." He gently tried to refuse your offer. You shook your head and let out a genuine smile.

"Trust me, you did not. You're always welcome here, anytime." His face washes with gentleness, and it feels like some weight on his shoulder has taken off from the sincerity of your words. The softness of your voice made him smile, then he reached for the box and accepted it wholeheartedly.

"The stress has been draining my energy lately, so this will really help. Thank you." His appreciation made you smile and eased your worry earlier. Suddenly, your mind made a suggestion, just like a light bulb.

"Just a second." You quickly made your way back to the counter and tried to reach something on a cupboard with your tippy toes, which made Jungwon chuckle as he found you cute while doing it.

You mentally cheered when you saw the box of tea that you were finding. You went back where he stood and gave it to him.

"Here's a chamomile tea. This might help you relieve your stress." Your thoughtfulness brightens Jungwon's mood and quickly sends a warm feeling to his heart.

"Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?" he asked. He cannot think of ways to express his gratitude, but if you request something, he will grant it devotedly.

You, on the other hand, were ready to decline and reassure him that he didn't need to do it when something popped an idea into your head once again.

"How about you give me your honest taste review of the cake?"

Ever since your interaction with Jungwon, you've started to get a little bit curious about him and his group.

At first, you just wanted to see current news or articles about them to find some answers about the reason he was exhausted that day. But now, you find yourself rewatching their performance videos on various music shows that Narae and Chuwon showed you before. This time you paid attention, and you got to admit, they are pretty good.

Especially, the guy with similar eyes of an adorable cat.

You can't help but get a little bit excited for their comeback, which is said in one of the newest articles you find about them. You came to the conclusion that this might be the reason behind the stress that Jungwon felt that night.

"Welcome to Sweet Greets Bakery!" You automatically greet without looking up when you hear the chime of the bell. You were so focused on putting the icing on top of the cupcake that you failed to notice a young man that you were just thinking about looking at you with full admiration.

"Would that be on the menu?" You looked up when you heard a familiar voice speak. Your smile immediately made its way to your face when your eyes made contact with his boba-shaped ones.

"Yup!" You put down the bag of icing you were holding and went to the counter where Jungwon was leaning over, ready to take his order. You looked at the back corner and saw his friends already seated comfortably there.

"The usual?" He nodded and let out a chuckle, as he found it amusing how you grew used to their presence. While you're busy punching their usual orders, he can't help but stare at you with softness in his eyes.

That night was the first time he actually paid attention to you. He might be hanging with his members here often, but he kept his interaction with anyone minimal as he didn't want to gain anyone's attention. But now that he got to talk to you, he can't help but regret those times that he could have used to get to know you.

Nonetheless, he was thankful that he made the right decision to go to your shop that night to unwind.

"Can I still have the slice of cake you gave me?" He shyly asked while rubbing the back of his neck. Your fingers stop pressing the items on the monitor, and you look at him with a hint of hope in your eyes.

"Did you like it?" Your question came in whispers, afraid to hear his answer about disliking your cake.

"The Oreo cheesecake was fantastic!" He looked up like he was trying to remember about its taste. "It felt smooth, and the sweetness definitely tasted like home," he praised, then he looked at it with full sincerity swimming in his eyes.

"I enjoyed every bite of it."

As the words hung in the air, the bulletproof shield around your heart trembled. Of course, you had heard compliments before, but none had touched you the way Jungwon's heartfelt words did. His simple compliment tore open a new doorway to your emotions, making your heart flutter like a trapped bird, banging against the confines of your narrow chest.

"So, I was wondering if it can be my usual order now?" He mumbled and lowered his head trying to hide his apple cheeks, which were blazing with redness.

Just like Jungwon, your cheeks are now a deeper shade of red, and your heart is still dancing in the confetti of admiration.

"B-but it is still not yet on the m-menu." You stutter as you put your attention on the monitor once again and slowly complete the orders. You bite your lower lip and look at the young men through your lashes. You tried to suppress your giggles when you saw a sad pout adorning his face.

"Though I can make an exception for you." 

From the moment you handed him the slice of cake he specially requested. A friendship unexpectedly blossomed, stretching far beyond the typical baker-and-customer set-up. Jungwon, being the leader of a well-known boy group, felt comfortable letting go of his duties when he was with you inside your comfy bakery.

Soon, Jungwon's late-night visits to the bakeshop became a tradition.

"How many eggs should I put in again?" Jungwon asked you, clad in a brown apron similar to the one you were wearing.

One such evening, while you were discussing with him the recipe for your Oreo cheesecake, he suddenly got the idea to let you teach him the process of making it so he could use it as content in his short vlog and impress his Jay-hyung.

And so, you and Jungwon's baking adventure began. Your simple and quiet evening in your shop was now filled with laughter, occasional flour fights, and piles of failed cookies he tried to make. Slowly, you began to look forward to his late-night visit.

"You ready?" you asked him while you carefully took the Oreo cheesecake out of the oven, which he had solely made without your help.

With eyes closed, he nodded in anticipation.

"You can now open your eyes." Once his eyes did, his mouth slowly hang open.

"I made that?" You softly laugh when he eyed his cake with disbelief.

"Yes, you did!" You cheered. The cake really turned out great for his first attempt, you couldn't be even more proud of him. Jungwon jumps with happiness making you giggle.

He raised his hands at you, asking for a high-five, which you quickly reciprocated and clapped hands with him. You thought it was just a brief contact, but Jungwon decided to intertwined his fingers with yours and clasped them tightly.

A wave of unexpected electricity rushes through your veins and sends your heart to flutter.

Every time you spend your night with Jungwon, you always experience this peculiar feeling. Making the fluttering of your heart more frequent and pronounced. These little flutters seemed to build into a crescendo, filling your heart with a strange yet sweet emotion.

"Y-you want to t-taste it?" You quickly removed your hands from his hold and quickly turned around to find some utensils and to hide your flushed face from his heart-melting stares. As you did it, you failed to see how his face filled with disappointment from the lost contact.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon was also experiencing the same surge of electrifying waves within him. His insides also fluttered in a way he only felt when he first walked into the cozy, aromatic haven of your bakeshop.

However, this time, the butterflies were not from the sweet baked goods but from a newfound emotion he felt for you.

"Can you send me the cake instead" You halted your action when you heard his request. It was odd, however, you just thought that he wanted to show his members the cake he made. Although you're quite disappointed that you couldn't taste it.

"Sure, when would you like me to send it to you?"

"On February 9." That's three days from now; the usual span of the cake is 4 to 5 days before it expires. The cake will still make it.

"I'll take note of that." You smiled.

The slow jazz music that helped set the mood for your relaxing shop was short-lived when your three staff members returned after the long week of exams and a well-deserved vacation leave that you granted. You were judgingly watching them as they danced to one of Enhypen's songs while they arranged the chairs and mopped the floor.

"Omo! Jungwon is on live!" Your ears suddenly perked when you heard Seoyun exclaim. The two immediately surrounded the girl, who was watching something on her phone. You tried to stop yourself from joining them, as you didn't want to be seen as suspicious for having a sudden interest in him.

Although you somehow did.

You were saddened that he failed to visit the shop three days in a row, and you got to admit that you missed his presence, which slowly became part of your small shop. However, you understand that his job can be a little demanding.

Still, you're slightly thankful that he didn't suddenly show up, as your three staff members will literally scream with enthusiasm and confusion when they see him having a comfortable conversation with you since you never told them about your growing friendship with him while they were gone.

You got a little bit curious behind their giggles, so you tried to sneak a peek from behind them.

Indeed, you saw Jungwon, with a wide smile, having fun talking to his fans. On his back were blue foil curtains with silver balloons around them, while in front of him was the cake he made that you just delivered this afternoon with a cake topper and candles.

Then it hits you.

Today is his birthday.

"Where did I get the recipe for the cake? From 'Sweet Greets Bakery!' They sell the best pastries, yoii~"

You know your heart is in trouble when it automatically flutters like a kite in the wind at the sound of his voice, even if he is away from you.

The unusual skipping beat of your heart when you heard Jungwon's laughter at your dry jokes, the always-fluttering when he listened to you attentively, and the feeling like something was missing when he was away were so unfamiliar, yet they made your heart full of so much happiness and affection.

This realization shattered the protective wall around your heart that you had meticulously crafted. The only one thing that you had never felt before was happening.

You are in love.

You are falling in love with Yang Jungwon.

Eventually, words about Jungwon liking your bakeshop spread like wildfire, sending fans into a frenzy. Your shop, which was almost empty of customers, was now filled with people trying to taste your baked goods, especially the Oreo cheesecake.

It was overwhelming not only to you but also to your three employees, as this is your first time taking so many orders in a day. It is tiring, but it feels like it magically vanished every time you saw the genuine reaction of your customers at every bite they took from the pastries you passionately baked.

It was a long, eventful three weeks, but your heart is grateful.

You were just basking in the quiet surroundings, as you had already closed your bakery and let three teenagers go home earlier, when someone knocked on the door.

A bright smile immediately made its way onto your face when you saw Jungwon in his thick gray hoodie and dark bucket hat waving his hand cutely at you through the glass door.

"What are you doing here?" are the first words that come out of your mouth once you unlock the door.

"I was supposed to visit you earlier, but the bakery is quite busy." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I really wanted to see you, so I came back."

You tried so hard not to put a meaning behind his words, but your heart seemed not to want to listen as it beat like crazy, and it feels like a cage of butterflies has been set free in your stomach.

"W-well, thanks to you, my bakeshop got a lot of recognition." You sincerely thanking him, even though you use it to try to ignore the last thing he said.

Jungwon felt his heart torn into pieces when you brushed off the words that reflected his overflowing affection for you. Yet, his heart is still filled with hope.

"You watched my live?" You were frozen from his question.

In fact, you did. Not the only part where you sneak a peak on Seoyun's phone but the whole birthday live. You personally made an account just to watch the replay of his live that day.

"I d-did" You averted your eyes. "Although it was a replay," you pursed your lips as you felt ashamed of yourself for doing it and letting him find it out.

Jungwon felt his heart jump with giddiness when you showed signs of interest in him.

"Yoi~" He adorably cooed and gently brushed his shoulder with yours. The sound of your giggles from what he did sends butterflies to his stomach.

"Oh, I have a surprise for you!" You exclaim after you remember the gift that you prepared for his birthday, even though his birthday was three weeks ago. You went to the storage room, leaving Jungwon full of anticipation.

Soon, you emerge from the room, holding your present for him. Despite the excitement of seeing his reaction, you were still nervous as it took you so many attempts to make your gift presentable. Plus, it was your first time making this design in your entire baking life.

However, your worries dissipated when you saw his mouth hang open in amazement at the cat-shaped cake that you were holding. You started singing him the birthday song while slowly making your way to him.

As you softly sang, his vision magically became blurry, and the only thing he could see clearly was your pretty face, which was always clad with gentle and genuine expressions. Your soothing voice is like a whisper in his heart that slowly dances and sways to its rhythm.

Those days that he couldn't see you, he felt something was missing. Your smiles, the melody of your laughter, and your comforting presence keep lingering in his mind. The only thing running through his head is to see you and spend his time with you once again.

The three long, agonizing weeks of not seeing you make his heart yearn for your presence, like a parched desert yearning for rain.

From the moment you hand him the slice of cake as an offer to relieve his stress, he knows he is down. Being away from you only confirms his feelings for you.

He is in love,

with you.

"Make a wish," you said after finishing the song. You expect Jungwon to close his eyes as he makes his wish, but your heart begins to race when he looks you in the eye, gazing at you with only a soft and gentle stare.

"I wish—" He removes your hold on the cake and carries it instead with one hand. Then, his other hand found its way to yours and slowly intertwined them without breaking eye contact.

"—I can spend the rest of my birthdays with you."

A torrent of emotions—warmth, joy, and love—fused together, igniting an electrifying light show within your chest. It feels like a burst of the sparkling fireworks display, not in the sky but in your heart.

You felt his thumb softly draw small circles in your hand, quickly sending tingles through your body.

"My bakery will go bankrupt from sending you birthday cake each year," you joked. Jungwon chuckled and gently squeezed your hand, still looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.

You pressed your palm on his cheek and rubbed your thumb against it with full affection, making him lean to your touch.

"Your wish is granted, Jungwon."

It was like both of your hearts exploded into an incandescent shower of feelings that mingled with the colors of the frosted night sky—a vivid, heart-pumping confetti of joy and love.

You both giggle at the strange way of confessing to each other. Although it was an odd confession, it was enough to convey the euphoric feelings you have for each other.

You and Jungwon's bond, baked and constructed in the 'Sweet Greets Bakery' hearth, had matured into love. From friends, you both seamlessly become lovers, with the love story orchestrated by fate and shared fondness for the bakeshop that brought you two together tying in the sweet, aromatic embrace of love forever.

Jungwon thought that the bakery was the only safe refuge he could have away from the limelight. He thought it was a place.

But it was a person.

You are his safe place.

©2023 Demuse Writer. All Right Reserved.

WAAAAH I loved this so much 🥹 Super cute and funny:3

bad news first - sjy (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. From the moment you'd met at eight to the day he moved to South Korea at fourteen, you and Jake were inseparable. But after years of being apart, you've come to terms with the fact that at twenty, you and Jake just aren't what you used to be. That is until you get a text from him, and all of a sudden, he's back by your side, doing his year abroad at the university you study at, and all your feelings for him float back up to the surface. genre. college au, childhood friends to ???? to lovers, painful mutual pining, one bed trope..... a sprinkle of angst (my hand slipped) but mostly fluff i promise and smut (mdni!!!), also i made sunghoon really weird in this and idkw, this is set in scotland.. edinburgh uni rep!! word count. 23k author's note. everybody say happy belated birthday to @zreamy.. happy belated birthday zo!!! being 22 years and 6 days old is cooler than just 22 years old anyway.. hope you like it bestie... if you dont... well theres a building on campus thats 17 stories high sooo.. enjoy! i hope everyone else enjoys too, since this is a bday fic for zo she couldnt beta read so i had to raw dog this so if its terrible.. not my fault! lmk what u think!! i also made a playlist for this, do listen along!!

“Alright kids, good news or bad news first?”

You looked at your teacher, then at the boy next to you, then back at your teacher. “Bad news first,” you said in unison.

You were only eight, but you were both wise enough to know that hearing good news second would assuage the blow of whatever these bad news were. Miss Dawson sighed as she crouched in front of you. “The bad news is your bus driver is on strike and won’t be coming. The good news is that your parents have been informed and are coming to pick you up soon.”

Following her instructions, you headed to the gymnasium and sat there silently among the other kids. Not many kids in your class rode the bus home, and the ones who did seemed to have drivers not on strike, so it was just the two of you. You were used to that, though - over January and February, you had made a sort of silent pact to stand and wait for the bus together. You sometimes shared snacks, but you never spoke. For some reason, you felt at ease with this boy, even though you didn’t know much about him. You had heard he had moved to Brisbane just at the start of this year, all the way from South Korea. You were pretty sure his name was Jake.

You handed him one of your Twix bars. Then he spoke. “I thought a strike was when you did really well in bowling.”

“Same,” you replied, mouth full of chocolate and caramel. “I’m not sure why that would keep the bus driver from picking us up.”

Jake looked at you with wide eyes, distress clear in them. “Do you think he went bowling instead of picking us up?”

This made you frown. “That’d be really rude.”

“It would. I always make sure to go bowling on the weekends, ‘cause if I missed school that’d be rude to Miss Dawson.”

You nodded your head in fervent agreement. “For sure.”

That weekend, his mum called your mum to ask if you wanted to go to the bowling alley with them. From then on, for the next six years, you were stuck together by glue. 

--

Twelve years later, Jake’s name appearing on your phone screen has become such a rare sight, you don’t believe it right away. It takes you a few seconds of intense squinting at the letters to actually realise your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

jake.sim15 hey y/n!! you go to edinburgh uni right?

You type and delete three different responses before settling for a simple yeah, I am! what’s up?, hoping you sounded nonchalant even though you very much felt chalant. You thought that whatever you sent wouldn’t be as weird as taking forever to answer such a straightforward question. 

As you wait for Jake’s reply, you scroll through your previous shared messages, noting with sadness that for three years in a row, the only instances you’d texted were to wish each other a happy birthday or when he reacted with a fire emoji to Stories of your dog, Milo. Before that, your last conversation was to congratulate each other about getting into your top choice universities and to discuss plans for your respective futures.

Futures that used to include each other, you think. His reply appears at the bottom of your screen before melancholy can fill your heart.

jake.sim15 i applied to go there for my year abroad next year annnnd i got in !! heh

You shoot up straight from your seat on the lounge chaise you’d been sunbathing on, a loud “Oh my God!” involuntarily escaping your mouth. 

“What? What happened? Is everything okay?” Chaewon asks frantically, rushing over to your side. “Oh,” she says when she sees your phone. “It’s a text… from a boy?” 

This makes Yunjin, previously unbothered by your panic, rise from her seat and take off her sunglasses. “A boy? Show me,” she demands, snatching your phone from your hands before you can protest. Upon seeing the texts on your screen, she lets out a loud gasp. “It’s not just any boy! It’s the one and only Jake Sim himself.”

“Give that back!” you plead, hand reaching for your phone, but Yunjin is already walking away.

“And he’s coming to Edi this September, apparently. He says he’s sorry for not saying anything earlier, but he was waiting for an answer up until now.” She scoffs. “Leave it to our uni to tell someone they’re in less than two months before term starts. Oh, you’re the first person he’s told, Y/N! After his parents. How cute,” she coos, protesting when you snatch your phone back from her. “Hey! I was reading that.”

“Those are my texts, Yunjin. I’m the one who’s meant to read them.”

She shrugs. “You would’ve told us anyway.”

“What are you going to reply?” Chaewon asks. With the both of them hovering over your shoulders and watching as you type a response, a sort of stage fright comes over you, making you send what might be the most unoriginal reply known to man.

“Awesome? Seriously, Y/N?” Yunjin reads, disproportionately disgusted with you.

“That’s a lot of exclamation marks. It almost makes it look like you don’t mean it,” Chaewon says.

“I do mean it!”

“Well, he seems to like it. A smiling-with-teeth emoji is a good sign, right?” she asks in an attempt to make you feel better.

“He has automatic caps off. That man is run-through,” Yunjin says, shaking her head as she walks back to her sunbed.

“You were excited about him texting me just a second ago,” you reproach.

“Yeah, before I found out he was a whore.”

“Yunjin, you know we don't slut-shame here!” Chaewon exclaims. Before Yunjin can say anything even worse in response, your phone starts ringing, and Jake’s name appears on your screen. “He’s calling you?” Chaewon gasps, making Yunjin sit up with a start for the second time in less than five minutes.

“This man is insane,” she remarks with all the seriousness in the world.

You run away from your friends, finding refuge in the outside kitchen area out of earshot. They don’t need to hear your conversation with Jake. You love them, but they can be weirdly unsupportive in moments like these.

“Hey, Jake,” you greet, hoping he doesn’t notice the breathlessness in your voice. It was because you had just ran, of course - you didn’t want him to think you were so nervous about talking to him after such a long time, you could barely breathe. Because you weren’t. At all.

“Hey, Y/N!” he replies, and the excitement in his voice makes your heart melt. “I hope it’s not weird that I called, I just thought it’d be nicer than texting, is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s nice to hear your voice,” you say before you can really think about it, and cringe at your own words. Years without talking and the world’s worst line is the first thing you say to Jake. Thankfully, before you start excruciating yourself, a chuckle pours out of Jake’s throat and blesses your ears.

“It’s nice to hear your voice, too. What are you up to?” 

“Oh, I’m on vacation with my friends. One of them has a rich aunt who owns a villa in southern Italy, so we’re just chilling by the pool right now.” 

“You always wanted to go to Italy! That sounds so nice,” he says. Your breath catches gently in your throat - he remembers, you note.

“Yeah, it really is. What about you, how are you spending the summer?”

Jake tells you about the local bookstore owned by a grandpa that’s always had a soft spot for him and that gave him a part-time job for the summer. “I’m trying to save up as much money as I can before I leave. If I treat you to a meal, will you show me around the city?” he asks, and you can hear the grin in his voice. It makes you realise how much you’ve actually missed him.

“You don’t need to treat me to a meal, I’ll show you around anyway.” 

Still, he insists, and you find yourself giving in quickly - because it’s Jake or because free food is on the table, you’re not sure. Probably both. 

You and Jake get to talking, but fitting years and years of catching up into one conversation is an impossible task, and before you know it, when you check your phone, you’ve been talking for over an hour. Yunjin is angrily waving at you, pointing at her stomach to indicate hunger like a caveman who’s just learned how to communicate. You apologise to Jake, telling him you have to go, and plan to meet during fresher’s week before you hang up.

A few hours later, you get a text from him saying it was nice talking to you and jokingly asking whether Yunjin was satisfied with lunch. It’s innocuous, but it opens a gate for more texting, which leads to long, rambling voice messages, which leads to late-night phone calls that remind you of when you were fifteen and still kept in touch. When August fades into September, you feel like you’ve got your best friend back. 

You remember why you were so in love with him at fourteen.

--

You see Jake before he sees you.  

Among the throngs of people, you manage to spot the dark, messy flop of hair on his head weighed down by a nice pair of wireless headphones. After a thirteen-hour flight from Seoul, a four-hour layover in Frankfurt and a final, two-hour flight to Edinburgh, he looks rightfully exhausted, using what looks like the last of his energy to spot the exit and the airport bus stop. Even wearing a simple denim jacket, white tee and grey sweatpants, he’s so gorgeous you forget what you came here for, until he almost walks right past you without seeing you. You put yourself in his path and hold your hand-written banner up, making yourself as obvious as you can as you call out his name. 

When he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks for a second, someone almost running into him before he remembers the crowd behind him. His tired features break out into a bright smile that has your heartbeat speeding up so much, you think it might run out of your chest. 

He had told you not to come, that it would be late for you and he didn’t want to bother you, but you had managed to get the information of his arrival before he forbade you from picking him up so you did it anyway, wanting to surprise him. After years of being apart, rather than waiting another day, you wanted to see him as soon as possible.

Jake briskly makes his way to you, dropping his bags next to him on the floor as he engulfs you in a hug, warm and tight as if he’s trying to make up for all those years. You hug him back as if someone would appear out of thin air and take him away from you again.

“This was the longest day of my life, I’m so happy to see you,” he says when he pulls away, and you’re so happy you can’t even say anything back, resorting to giggling and lightly swatting non-existent dust off of his shoulders. 

As you wait for the bus, he tells you about every trivial thing that happened to him on his trip, from how expensive a sandwich is at the airport to the German kid sitting in front of him that kept turning around to stare at him on his second flight.

“How did you know he was German?” you ask, amused.

Jake pauses. “Just vibes.”

Conversation on the bus is slightly disjointed as you jump from topic to topic with random pauses here and there before one of you finds something to talk about - but it’s okay, you hadn’t expected for the two of you to be as easy as before. It’s more awe at seeing each other after such a long time than awkwardness. Even though you’d caught up over summer, there was a world of difference between speaking on the phone and actually sitting next to him. You notice things like the shine of his hair, the creases that form on the sides of his lips when he smiles, or, unfortunately for you, the veins that run along his forearms and hands - things you hadn’t noticed previously thanks to the sometimes questionable quality of the front camera of his phone. Once in a while, your thigh brushes against his, and it reminds you that he’s really here. Even that he’s real, at all. 

In a tragic turn of events, Jake lives in the student accommodation you used to live in in first year, and coming back to it two years later is slightly traumatising. His three-person flat is in a different building as your old one, and you marvel at how it somehow still smells the same - like dusty, decade-old carpeting and the permanent stench of students’ dubitable cooking. He’s the first one to move in, which makes the place slightly eerie, but it means that you’re not bothering anyone by unpacking Jake’s stuff and cooking Shin Ramyun the previous tenants had left behind at 11pm. 

Your late dinner was meant for you to take a small break, watch a couple episodes of Friends which Jake had been shocked to learn you’d never watched, and you had been shocked to learn he was a die-hard fan of (since one year ago), then get back to unpacking. But the ramen sends an already exhausted Jake into a food coma so intense, he falls asleep on your shoulder five minutes into the second episode. 

You let him sleep as long as he needs, turning the volume down on his laptop and stifling your chuckles as much as you can. You feel like a cat has fallen asleep in your lap - you are now obliged by law to stay still until Jake wakes up. It’s not until an hour later that Jake’s uncomfortable sleeping position forces him awake, lifting his head off of your shoulder with a grunt. He looks around himself, at his room that’s not quite familiar to him yet, then at you, eyes still scrunched with sleepiness as a grin blooms onto his lips.

“Sorry,” clearing his throat of its grogginess. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one a.m,” you reply, and his eyes go wide.

“You should’ve woken me up! Does your shoulder hurt?” he asks, much more alarmed than he should be, and it makes you laugh.

“It’s all good. But now that you’re awake, I should probably head home.” 

“I’ll get you an Uber,” he says, already pulling out his phone. 

“It’s fine, Jake, my place is a ten-minute walk from here. I live just up the road.”

Jake’s fingers on his phone pause as he looks up at you. “Then I’ll walk you home.” He lifts a finger in warning when he sees you start to protest. “And don’t fight me on this. You did so much today, it’s the least I can do.”

As much as you love the idea of spending more time with Jake, even if it’s just ten minutes, you still don’t want to bother him when you know how tired he is. “It’s really safe around here. I can just text you when I’m home, if you’re worried about me getting kidnapped or something,” you say, taking his jacket from his hands and placing it back on his desk chair.

He grabs it back, putting it on before you can take it from him again, and rummages through one of his suitcases for a black, woolly scarf. Neither of you speaks as he wraps it tight around your neck, even though the early September weather isn’t cold enough to warrant it. His hands stop briefly on the scarf and a small smile spreads on his lips. You hope he doesn’t hear your sharp intake of breath when your eyes meet. “It’s not about that,” he says simply, voice low and unlike you’ve ever heard it before. You don’t think his voice had quite finished cracking when he’d moved away back then. 

Suddenly, he steps away, grabs his keys, and heads for the door. “Let’s go!” he says, voice back to its usual cheery tone. You don’t find it in you to question him, so you just follow him out, welcoming the night breeze that cools down your burning cheeks with open arms. 

The walk to your place is mostly done in comfortable silence, but it still goes by too quickly for your liking. You keep your hands in your pockets to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like reaching out for Jake’s hand that swishes back-and-forth as he walks. Instead, you bury your nose in his scarf and relish in the unfamiliar but comforting smell that his cologne has left behind on the fabric. You hug goodbye when you reach your flat, and you have to remind yourself to let go. He insists on you keeping the scarf. “My mum packed me, like, three, so you can have that one.” 

“Your mum still pack your things for you, does she?” you ask, tone playful.

“No-” he says, voice slightly whiny, before he realises you’re just teasing him. “Whatever,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You hope the streetlights aren’t bright enough for him to notice the flustered look on your face. The both of you stand there awkwardly for a second, before he lets out another chuckle. “Right. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you beam.

“Okay,” he says, but still doesn’t make a move to leave. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll be off then.” He gives you one last smile then turns around, burying his hands in his pockets, and you watch as he walks away.

“Get home safe,” you call out after a few seconds. 

He pivots on his heels, and, with a wave of his hand, says, “I will! Go inside.”

“Good night!”

“Night, Y/N!”

When you walk into your living room, Yunjin is sitting on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, gaze trained on the wall opposite her, one lamp lighting the otherwise completely dark room. She looks like a detective in one of those bad cop shows.

“Gosh, what’s all this for?”

“You’re back awfully late,” she says, neither looking at you nor answering your question.

“Yeah, I was with Jake,” you shrug, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. She abruptly gets up from her seat, following you into the other room and staying close behind you.

“And?” she demands, mouth way too close to your ear and making you start.

“And what?” you ask. 

“What do you mean and what?!” she says, clearly agitated. “I want to know everything!”

“There’s nothing to say, really. He seemed happy I picked him up from the airport, then I helped him unpack. He lives in Riego, by the way.”

“Ew.”

“I know, it was awful going back there.”

The two of you stare at each other as you drink your water. “Well?” she asks.

“What?”

“Is that it?”

You fill your glass again to take it into your bedroom. “I don’t know, we just ate and watched Friends.”

“You hate shows with laughing tracks,” she states like it’s an accusation.

“It wasn’t actually that bad,” you reply, shrugging.

She tuts. “Love will do ugly, ugly things to a person.”

“You’ve been in a loving relationship for the past two years.”

“This isn’t about me. Can we talk about how you’re still in love with the same loser from when you were ten?”

“I was fourteen, and don’t call Jake a loser when you haven’t even met him.” You ignore the roll of her eyes. “And I’m not. Not anymore. I’m just happy to have my friend back.” Yunjin gives you a look. “Okay, maybe I’m still a little bit in love with him. But it’s so little, it’s barely there.” Her expression is unchangingly unimpressed and you can’t help but throw in the towel. “Alright, fine. I still love him, what about it?”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I know that, no need to remind me.”

“Are you gonna do something about it?”

“My patheticness? I’ve tried, didn’t really work.”

“No, idiot, about Jake. You should go and get him! It’d be so sexy if you got together as 20-somethings after knowing each other since you were babies.”

“We were eight when we met. And I don’t know if sexy is the word I’d use here.”

“Anything is sexy if you try hard enough,” she says, and you have to laugh. “Anyways, you should confess your undying love and tell him you’ve felt that way since you met.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Guys might not show it, but they probably get all hot for stuff like that. Boosts their ego and shit.”

“Yunjin, I just got my friend back, I’m not gonna risk it. Plus, who knows, I might not actually be in love with him. It might just be my emotions acting up, like, seeing someone I used to like after a while. We’ve both changed so much, once I get to know him more now, I might not even feel the way I used to.”

“Notice how you’ve used the word might twice in ten seconds? You’re just trying to find excuses.”

You groan. “This is why I hate English Lit people.”

“You do English Lit.”

“I know, and I’m the only nice person that does it.” In your head, you add and Jake, but saying it out loud would only make this conversation worse for you.

“What’s that scarf, by the way? Did he give you that?”

You look down at the scarf like it’s a piece of incriminating evidence. “Can you stop grilling me, please? It’s late.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You sighed deeply. “Fine. Yes, he gave me-”

“It’s not even that cold outside!” she exclaimed in an outrage. “Don’t tell me he also walked you home?”

You pause. “He did.”

She gasped. “He walked you home because he’s in love with you.”

“He walked me home because he’s a good friend that looks after me.”

“He walked you home because he realised how hot you’ve gotten and he wants some of that.”

All you can do is sigh. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

“If you weren’t such a coward, you wouldn’t be going to bed alone.”

“Whatever!” you say, shutting the door behind you, shaking that preposterous conversation out of your head. When you get into bed, it takes you at least half-an-hour before you can settle down, but you know your constant tossing and turning isn’t due to your inability to find a comfortable enough position to sleep in. Between your evening with Jake and Yunjin’s pestering, thoughts run wild and incoherent through your head. 

You want to tell her every little thing that happened with Jake tonight, but you’re afraid it might do you more harm than good. She is most definitely the type of friend who will take the smallest action a guy did for you or the most meaningless thing he might have said and turn it into a sign that he has the hots for you, which usually does wonders for your confidence, but right now, you don’t need that kind of delusion. Did seeing your childhood best friend you used to secretly harbour feelings for make you feel some type of way? Of course, but that doesn’t mean you still love him after all this time, after six years of being apart, the majority of those years spent with no contact. It wasn’t like you parted ways with resentment, or anything of that sort, far from it; rather, you drifted apart naturally, as two teenagers with over 7000 kilometres between them would. At first, you’d call frequently and even write each other letters - but as you became more preoccupied with school, friends, and extracurriculars, your phones gradually rang less and your mailboxes became gradually emptier. You don’t even remember who sent the last, unanswered letter. 

Tonight isn’t the first time you replay the moment Jake announced that he would go away, but it’s the first time it’s a bittersweet memory. It used to only be bitter - but now that you’ve reconnected, you can look back at it with fondness, wishing you could tell fourteen-year-old you the hurt would only last so long. 

It hadn’t started unusually.

“So, bad news first, right?”

In your six years of friendship with Jake, this had been the first time you’d really been wary of what he would say next. The look on his face told you that this bad news wouldn’t be as easy to shake off as usual. Your definition of bad news was things like I got grounded so I can’t hang out, I forgot we had a test tomorrow so I can’t hang out, my allergies are acting up again so I can’t hang out.

“I’m moving to Korea next month.”

I’m on another continent, so I can’t hang out.

You remember the words not quite making sense at the time. “Oh? How long are you staying there?” you said, taking a bite of your strawberry ice cream which Jake had insisted on paying for, even though you knew he didn’t get much allowance.

“Forever.”

You stopped chewing, and the ice cream melted uncomfortably in your mouth. You don’t know how long you stayed there, frozen as you stared at your best friend in disbelief. It wasn’t until he lightly shoved your shoulder, only meeting your eyes for a split second, that you remembered to swallow and to say something.

“Forever as in… You won’t live here anymore? At all?”

Jake shook his head. He kept his eyes trained on the vanilla-chocolate ice cream sandwich he’d left in its wrapper. In the blazing hot Brisbane summer, it had probably fully melted two minutes ago. “At all.”

“Oh,” was all you found yourself able to say. For some reason, you hoped that continuing to eat your ice cream would stop you from crying, but to no avail. Hot, salty tears quickly started raining down your cheeks, mixing with the sweetness of your ice cream when they reached your lips. 

“It’s my dad’s work. Same reason why I moved here when we were kids in the first place. They wanted him here then, they want him back there now. We just have to follow,” Jake explained, sounding just as upset as you felt.

“Right.”

“Are you mad at me?” Jake asked, worry clear in his voice, and finally turned to face you. At the sight of you crying, he let out a small oh, tears of his own pooling in his eyes.

You frowned. “Of course not. I’m never mad at you, you know that. I just… You’re my best friend, Jakey. It’s gonna be so lame around here without you.”

“It’ll be lame there without you, too.”

You attempted a smile. “Well, of course. But at least you’ll get to make new friends, see new places. You’ll be in a whole other country, I’m sure you’ll have fun there. I’m gonna be stuck in boring old Brisbane for the foreseeable future.”

“Do you know how offended our friends would be if they heard you speaking right now?” he asked, nudging your shoulder with his.

You sniffled and let out a chuckle. “They’re all great, but… I don’t like them nearly as much as I like you,” you said, staring down at your hands, hoping he wouldn’t realise exactly what you meant by that statement.

A weight was lifted off of your shoulders when Jake answered. “I like you the most too, Y/N.” You tried not to think too much about whether he’d meant it platonically or romantically - none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of his arms around you, his warmth enveloping your whole body, his familiar scent that you already missed. 

You felt him take a deep breath against you before he pulled away. He sniffled and did his best to put on a smile. “Right, enough of that. I’m not leaving until next month, so don’t think you’re rid of me just yet,” he joked, and it helped alleviate the weight on your heart, even if just a little. “You said you had something to tell me? Good news after bad news, and all that.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot about that.”

You thought for a second. Today was the day you had planned to confess your feelings to Jake - you’d only told him you had good news to share. But what was the point now that he was leaving? If he felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if he didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

Jake tilted his head, waiting for you to speak. In a split second, you made yourself forget your disappointment over having built the courage to tell him how you felt only for it all to fall through, and resolved to make the most of Jake’s last month here. You wiped your tears and mirrored his small smile as best you could. “Um, it wasn’t anything much. My mum made those cowboy cookies you like.”

Jake’s head fell back as he groaned in anticipation. “If she wasn’t happily married with three kids, I’d marry your mum. Let’s go right now.”

You laughed. “There’d be a bit of an age gap there.”

“We’d make it work,” Jake joked, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards your house. He beamed down at you, his bright, boyish smile that you loved to bits, and you beamed up at him as you grabbed the hand that hung off your shoulder in your own.

You walked as happily as you could. “Do you even speak Korean?” you suddenly asked.

Jake halted abruptly in his steps, a gravely offended look on his face. When you looked back at him in confusion, he rolled his eyes and started walking again, pulling you with him. “It’s literally my mother tongue, Y/N. I speak it every day at home.”

“Oh, right.”

At the time, you thought nothing could come between you and Jake. Not anyone, not anything, neither distance nor time. But they did. A week after he’d left, a boy from your class you’d talked to maybe once or twice asked you out on a date. You weren’t sure why, but you said yes. Then you said yes to being his girlfriend, even though you didn’t like him all that much, and you even said yes to reducing your texting with Jake because it made him jealous. When you’d broken up with him and wanted to catch up with Jake and apologise for your absence, you’d found that his new school in Seoul was a lot more demanding than yours in Brisbane, and he had to spend most of his evenings in academies if he wanted to get into a nice university. It’s when you learned that he’d be staying in South Korea for college that you decided to leave Australia too. Brisbane was a lot less fun without him there - why bother staying? You couldn’t go to him because of the language barrier and the cost of university there. If you were to essentially uproot your life, might as well go somewhere you could get a scholarship and understand the people around you. 

It seemed insane that someone you had thought would be by your side for the rest of your life, someone that was part of your most cherished memories, had been reduced to someone you casually texted once in a while. It seems even more insane that now that you’re finally done essentially grieving your friendship with Jake, he stands in front of you again, six inches taller but still donning those puppy-like eyes and smile of his.

For your sake, you just hoped you wouldn’t be as in love with him at twenty as you were at fourteen.

--

The next day, you show Jake around campus, which wouldn’t normally take more than ten minutes, but takes double that time because of the sheer amount of people there. Between the Societies Fair taking up most of the square, the tour guides leading freshers, walking slowly and taking in their new campus, and the pizza and drinks stands, freshers’ week always turns campus into what feels like the busiest place on Earth. You try not to let it hit a nerve for Jake’s sake, who’s clearly ecstatic at all the activity, but you like this place a lot more when it’s quieter. You walk through the Fair, laughing as Jake marvels at all the different clubs and societies at the Uni. 

“Gardening Society? Dungeons & Dragons Society? Wine society?” he exclaims, astonishment growing with every passing stand.

“And this is only the first day. They also have a Taylor Swift Society.” He grabs a flyer from about every society, even though you know he’ll join between two to zero of them. 

When you walk out, there’s a girl handing out samples of shampoo and conditioner, and you let her give you one, more out of politeness than anything. 

“These are so useless,” you start, and Jake chuckles, unaware of the incoming rant. “I had that job of distributing them last year, and we would get a tip if we gave them all out. So naturally I put a bunch in my bag, but then I had to use them for like two weeks.” You sigh. “First of all, my hair did not like it. And second, the ratio is so off. There’s way more conditioner than shampoo when it should be the other way around, so you have to condition your hair even though it’s not properly clean. So stupid.”

“Sounds terrible,” Jake says, laughing. “Is that why you’re not doing it this year?”

“Oh… Not really. I dated the guy that takes care of this promo stuff, so it would’ve been kinda awkward…” you trail, immediately wishing you could backtrack on conversation. Talking about your ex with Jake wasn’t on your to-do list for today. Or ever.

“You dated your boss?”

“The manager, yeah, I guess. He was only 24, though, don’t worry.”

“I’m more worried about the power imbalance than the age gap there.”

You shrug, looking down at your shoes. “It’s not like he was that high up.”

“So, what happened? Why did you break up?”

“Well, he acted like our four-year age difference meant he could treat me like a little kid. It was nice being taken care of at first but then I realised how condescending he was and dumped him.”

“How long were you together?”

You pause. “Two weeks,” you admit abashedly, making Jake chuckle. “At least he didn’t waste my time and showed his red flags early on.”

“Any boyfriends since?” he asks, and you wonder whether you’re making up the unsure tone of his voice. As if he’s curious, but doesn’t want to show it too much. You hope you’re not making it up.

“A few, but they never last very long with me,” you say, a meek smile on your lips. “Furthest I got was three months.”

“And why didn’t it work out with three-months-guy?”

“He started comparing me to his mum a bit too often.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, I ran out of there without looking back.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you’ve got high standards. I would hate to see you date just any loser.”

You want to say, High standards or issues?, but you don’t want to make it weird, so you play it cool instead. “I would never. I have a mental checklist with everything a guy needs to have for me to date him.”

“A checklist? I have to hear about this.”

You sigh, debating whether you should tell him about it. Would he notice it’s based on him? Would he notice the only person that could tick practically every box was none other than him? Jake gently elbows your side, goading you on. When you look at him, he’s got a shit-eating grin playing on his lips, and you give in. You look off into the distance as you start listing your requirements. “Well, there’s all your basics like funny, taller than me but not too much, ‘cause I don’t want neck cramps, smart, takes uni seriously, has plans for his future, easy to talk to, not emotionally stunted and can actually have a vulnerable conversation. It’s also a bonus if he has a nice face.”

“How much of a bonus?”

You think for a second. “It’s more a dealbreaker than a bonus, actually. Nice smile is a must, definitely.”

“Okay. Got any more specifics?”

“I do have some particular ones. It’s nice if he’s a reader, but it’s terrible if it makes him think he’s better than everyone or if he tries to sound smarter than me. I like it if he has experience, I don’t want to have to teach him everything. But obviously I don’t want him to still be in love with his ex. Guys and their first loves, I swear… I also don’t really like picky eaters.” You look over at Jake and take a double-take. He’s typing away on his phone, but because of his privacy screen protector, you can’t see anything. You huff. “I also don’t like it if he has those protective screens on his phone. What’s on there that’s so important that I can’t take a peek? What are you even doing?”

The sweet sound of Jake’s giggles erases any trace of annoyance that you felt seconds ago. He turns his screen towards you, showing the list of mostly ticked boxes that he’s written up. “See? I check most of these,” he says with a proud smile. “Guess your standards aren’t that high.” You don’t tell him that your standards are high, he’s just that amazing. 

You do your best to look only amused at this even though inside, you’re all but freaking out. “Which are you missing?”

“Well, I clearly own a privacy screen. And I don’t have much experience. Not nearly as much as you, by the sounds of it,” he admits, somewhat sheepish. “But other than that, I’m practically the perfect man for you.” He looks down at you with a smile so bright, it makes you wish you had brought sunglasses. It takes everything in you not to scream right then and there. Yes, Jake, you are the perfect man for me, but I wish you wouldn’t say it like it was a joke.

You let out a stiff chuckle, and, rather than saying something stupid and possibly damaging, shift the conversation to him. “What do you mean by not much experience? Have you not dated anyone?”

Jake sighs. “Nope, not anyone. I went on a few dates, you know, went through a few talking stages and all that, but it never went much further. There was always something…” He glances at you then. “Missing.”

“I know that feeling,” you say with a chuckle, and he laughs too, a breathy sound.

“I don’t have a checklist to pinpoint what it is, though.”

You smile. “You should try, it might help.”

“I just… I guess I’m like you in that I also have high standards. But it made me not even want to give anyone a chance, especially since I knew it wouldn’t end up anywhere.”

“Don’t tell me no one has ever managed to reach the great Jake Sim’s standards?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Jake smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course someone has. She’s the whole reason I have standards in the first place. It’s not my standards I compare people to, it’s her.”

Jealousy has never made you feel as sad as it is right now. “And… it didn’t work out between you?”

Jake looks at you, eyes searching for something in yours but seemingly not finding it, and so he turns his gaze away. You don’t know why you feel so disappointed. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “She didn’t feel the same way.”

Whoever this girl is, you can’t believe how stupid she is for passing up the opportunity to have Jake Sim. “That’s… It sucks, I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t think spitting on this girl would make him feel any better, so you keep those thoughts to yourself.

“It’s okay,” he says with a small smile. “It was a while ago already.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re quite over it, though,” you say, and you’re surprised but glad to see his smile widen.

“That’s true.” His eyes meet yours again. “I don’t think I’ll be over her anytime soon, either.” You have to look away to shield the pain that flashes through your eyes from him.

Pretending you don’t have feelings for your best friend and that you’re okay with him being in love with someone else is like riding a bike: even after years of not doing it, it only takes a few minutes for you to be able to do it perfectly again. Muscle memory, if you will. So you sigh dramatically and throw your arm around Jake’s shoulder, slightly pulling him down to your level. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have so much fun this year, you’ll completely forget about her. Promise. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Yeah?” 

He smiles down at you. You want nothing more but that glint of melancholy in his eyes to be gone. “Yeah.”

--

Jake is only half-glad to see you haven’t changed much from your childhood and early teenage years. You’re still just as pretty, just as warm; it’s still as comfortable to be around you. You’re also still as dense.

Then and now, he did everything he could to make his feelings for you very, very obvious. Either you’re completely oblivious, or the idea of dating him is so horrifying to you, you understand but pretend you don’t. He really hopes it’s the former. 

He arrived in Edinburgh just a bit over a week ago, and you’ve seen each other almost every day. Out of those times, there isn’t a single one where he hasn’t tried to send something your way - something that says, hey, what if we stopped being friends and dated instead? Wouldn’t that be cool? Can’t you see how desperately I love you?, but you never latch on. The ball’s in your court, and he wants you to throw it back, but it’s been feeling more like a boomerang that always hits him right in the face when it circles back than a game of catch.

But he’s reminding himself not to be too greedy. Even if it’s just as friends, at least he has you back, so he’s satisfied with that. For now.

His first class of the year is on the following Tuesday morning, a ninety-minute seminar specifically made for exchange students called Discover Scotland. (He has Mondays free, resulting in a three-day weekend, which you and your 9am Monday tutorial are very envious of.) As interesting as the English Lit courses he’s taking seem, it’s this one he’s most looking forward to - except for the one class he shares with you, of course. Not even because of the seminars themselves, which will be about all sorts of topics on Scottish culture and history, but because of the coursework, as crazy as that sounds. It consists of a singular project, not due until the very last day of the semester, in which he has to travel to at least three different places in the country, research its background and provide a detailed account of his experience there. It can take any form: a written report, an in-class presentation, a podcast, anything. He could even film a TikTok if he wanted. Jake knew that being part of the Arts & Crafts club for two years in a row back in Seoul wasn’t for nothing - his scrapbooking skills would finally have their time to shine. 

That afternoon, he practically snatches you as you come out of your lecture, giving you little time to say bye to your friends, and makes you take him to the biggest stationary store you know in the city. If he wants to ace this project, he will need supplies. Many, many supplies. And it’s more fun shopping if you’re with him. You seem happy following him around the store, and when he asks you if you want to come on his trips with him, he can pretend it’s because you seem so excited about his project and not because he had thought of you accompanying him as soon as he heard about it.

As you stand in line at the till, you tell him that if he wants to start his project now, you could go to the beach together. You raise your eyebrows at him when he snaps your head towards you. “There’s a beach here?!”

“Did you not look at a map before coming here?” you ask, amused.

“I guess I didn’t…” he says, distraught at the new information. It only lasts a second, though. “Okay, let’s go now.”

“Now?” you echo, and he nods. “But-” you start, but are interrupted by your thoughts. “I guess there’s no reason not to. The weather’s nice and it’s not like I have any uni work yet. Let’s go,” you agree, looking up at him with a smile. You’re so pretty he almost forgets to look away, until the employee calls Next in a bored drawl. 

An hour later, you’re at the beach, barefoot on the sand and ice cream in hand. Strawberry for you and vanilla for him, he notes with a smile. Really not much has changed, he thinks. From the sand, to the water, to the promenade along the beach, Portobello is worlds away from the beaches back home in Australia, or those of Jeju Island. But it’s still nice, and because you’re with him, it’s even better. You’ve been walking around for an hour, splashing each other with water and mercilessly ruining sandcastles left behind before he realises you technically came here for his project. He writes down things he doesn’t want to forget on his phone and snaps a few pictures, sneaking a few of you when you’re not looking. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are with your hair blowing in the wind and the way the chill bites at your cheeks, but he keeps it a secret between him and his Notes app. 

Even though he lives two stops further down, he gets off from the bus with you, containing his excitement as best he can when you invite him up for a cup of tea. “Depends. What tea do you have?” he asks, trying and failing to play it cool. He’s just grateful he doesn’t have to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you.

You roll your eyes playfully as you unlock the front door to your building. “I can make you hot chocolate, Mister Tea-Is-For-Old-People.”

He chuckles. “Actually, I’ll have you know I started drinking tea at uni.” When you turn around to look at him, a surprised look on your face, he nods proudly. “Mh-hm. I got addicted to caffeine very quickly into first year so I started drinking black tea for the sake of my heart,” he explains.

“God,” you say breathily, sounding mildly horrified. “A caffeine addiction sounds intense.”

“It was, yeah,” he says, laughing as he follows you into your flat. 

Yunjin and Chaewon are sitting at the living room table, watching an episode of what he thinks is Gossip Girl, and they greet him as normally as these two can, but he wonders what the knowing look they exchange is all about. He’d met them the previous weekend when you had all gone for drinks together, along with Jay, Yunjin’s boyfriend, and they had all but grilled him on his relationship with you. He hadn’t thought much of it, chalking it up to your friends feeling protective of you, and truthfully, he was just happy to get to talk about you. But now, he was wondering if you had told them anything about him that made them so curious about him. If you did, he hoped it was something positive.

He stands awkwardly in the kitchen, chatting with you as you boil the water and get cups out, but he can feel their gazes burning the back of his head. Clearly, whatever conversation he’s having with you, he’s also having it with them. “How do you take your tea?” you ask.

“Um, three sugars and lots of milk, please,” he says, smiling innocently when you slowly turn to look at him, a mix of disapproval, disgust, and offence on your face. 

You sigh deeply. “I mean, I’ll do it, but I’m not sure that’s even tea anymore.”

“You’re one to talk, Miss Caramel Frappuccino,” he says, recycling your bad joke from earlier.

“At least I don’t claim to be drinking coffee when I order a frap,” you argue. “And this is how you battled your coffee addiction? You’ll be getting another kind of heart problem, Jakey.” He doesn’t know if you even notice your use of his old nickname - the first time you’ve used it since he’s been here - but you don’t make a big deal of it, so he doesn’t either. Not outwardly, at least. Mentally, he’s running laps around your small kitchen.

Jake laughs it off. “I thought I came here for tea, not a health check-up,” he says, smile growing wider at the sight of yours. 

“Right, sorry,” you say, giggling. “I’ll make your tea just how you like it,” you add in a sweet voice. Jake knows you’re just doing it as a joke, but it still manages to make butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

His tea tastes even sweeter that day.

--

A few days after your impromptu trip to the beach, you’re waiting for Jake outside of his class. He heard of this donut shop he “absolutely needs to visit” and is dragging you along with him - well, “dragging” is a big word considering you’d follow him anywhere. You got here a few minutes early, not needing much of a reason to leave the library, so you scroll through your feed until Jake calls out your name. You’re only mildly surprised to see Jay leaving the classroom behind him.

“Y/N! Can you believe that Jay and I are in the same class?” he says excitedly as the two boys walk toward you. You feel like a dog owner being greeted by their over-enthusiastic dog after a long day (about three hours) of being apart.

“I can believe it, actually. You two do the same degree.”

You exchange quick greetings with Jay before the three of you start heading out. As you walk, Jake throws his arm around your shoulders so casually, it almost throws you off balance. Physical contact always came easy to him, but there’s something about him doing it next to someone else that catches you off guard. It reminds you of walking somewhere with Jay and Yunjin as they discretely held hands. It makes you feel like it’s not the three of you, but Jay with the two of you. Like you and Jake come as a pair rather than as two individuals. 

All of that from a simple arm around your shoulders.

Jake asking you in a very unsubtle whisper whether Jay can come with brings you out of your head and back into the conversation. “Yeah, of course,” you say, smiling. It’s not a bad idea to have Jay along: hanging out with someone else might snap you out of your delusion.

Most of the walk to the shop is done in laughter as Jake and Jay realise how much random stuff they have in common, from their peanut allergies to the embarrassing Harry Potter phase they had as fifteen-year-olds. Grassmarket is really busy on Friday afternoons, and there’s a bit of a queue of other donut-enjoyers in front of the boutique, but you don’t mind. The sun is shining down gently on the square and it gives you time to choose your donut out of the ten or so flavours available. In the end, you go for white chocolate and raspberry, while Jake chooses Biscoff and Jay, tiramisu. 

“My friend Sunghoon would love this,” he says after taking a hearty bite. “He goes crazy over tiramisu. Like a cat with catnip.”

Jake chuckles, mouth full of Biscoff. “That’s funny, I also have a friend named Sunghoon who loves tiramisu back in Seoul.”

Jay punches Jake’s shoulder, eyes wide in amusement and shock. “Bro, that’s crazy. You have to be lying at this point,” he says, but Jake shakes his head fervently. 

“I promise I’m not. I’ve even saved his number with the tiramisu emoji.”

“There’s a tiramisu emoji?” Jay asks, already over questioning the existence of Jake’s Sunghoon.

The conversation circles back to the courses you’re all taking this semester, and Jake tells Jay about Discover Scotland and the trips he’s planned so far. “Well, if you really want to discover Scotland as a student, you need to go on a night out in Glasgow,” Jay says. Going by the look on Jake’s face, Jay’s idea seems to have struck a chord in him.

“Y/N?”

You nod, finishing your mouthful of donut before speaking. “Yeah, Glasgow’s really fun. We should go,” you say, laughing when the two boys high-five in victory. Between the train, the drinks and the club entry, going out isn’t a cheap ordeal, and getting to and fro also takes a while - even so, the smile on Jake’s face makes it worth it. 

He wipes some raspberry jam from the corner of your mouth, shooting you a wink, and you want to disintegrate right then and there, become one with the bench you’re sitting on and never have to face him again. The conversation resumes as Jay tells Jake about all the best places to go out in Glasgow, but you don’t hear a word - the feeling of Jake’s thumb so close to your lips takes away your ability for coherent thought.

“It’s decided, then. We’re going out tomorrow night,” Jay loudly announces. “Let me gather the troops.”

That’s how you find yourself in line for the club the next day, already tipsy from pre-drinking on the train and at the pub. It’s still warm enough for you and the girls to wear as little clothing as you want, but Jake insisted on giving you his flannel jacket anyway. If not for the warmth it brings, you’re glad to have his scent enveloping you.

The five of you work exceptionally well together. You, Chaewon and Yunjin have been a given since you met in first year, and Jay and Yunjin went so well together that he was but a natural addition to your little group. Jake’s only been here for over a week, but it’s like he’s always been around, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Him and Jay hit it off immediately, and although the girls needed some time to warm up to him (it’s not everyday that you meet your friend’s ex-best-friend she’s practically always been in love with; you understand why they might’ve been wary at first), they now tease him just as relentlessly as they do Jay. He takes it like a champ.

For a little while, you watch your friends speaking over each other, bickering over nothing, a smile on your face. Two pints of cider and some of Jay’s fancy vodka have made you more grateful than ever for them - if you drink too much in the club, you’ll be hugging them and crying about how much you love them. You’re not sure what that might look like around Jake, so you decide to keep yourself in check for the night. 

It takes about thirty minutes before you manage to get into the club. It’s not coat check season yet, so you head straight to the bar. “Sunghoon said he’d meet us here,” Jay says, lifting his head to spot his friend in the sea of drunk students. “Oh yeah, there he is! Hoon, hey!” 

You hear a loud “Jongseong!” being shouted from somewhere in the crowd, but you’re not sure who Jay is waving at until a boy whose face is mostly eyebrows is standing - well, standing as best as he can, with the copious amount of alcohol he’s obviously already consumed - in front of you. He gives Jay a hug and the three of you a nod of his head, a lopsided smile on his face. When he turns to Jake, his eyebrows lift first, then his face breaks into a wide grin.

“Jake, my man!” he shouts, taking a stunned Jake’s hand and bringing him into a hug. 

“Sunghoon? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, chuckling and frowning in confusion. 

“I’m just partying, man! Same as you!”

“No, I mean here in Scotland, you dumbass!”

“You two know each other?” Jay asks, looking back and forth between his two friends.

“Jake’s my man!” Sunghoon exclaims, unhelpful and stumbling as he throws an arm around his man’s shoulders. Jake shoots you a distressed look but you just laugh at him.

“This is Tiramisu Sunghoon I told you about,” Jake says, helping Sunghoon stand up straight.

“God, what I would do for a tiramisu right now,” Sunghoon says, looking at Yunjin like she might relate. She chuckles awkwardly.

“I have no idea what he’s doing in Scotland, though. Hoon, I thought you were going to NYU for your exchange?”

Sunghoon pauses to think for a second, looking like he’s never heard of NYU in his life. “Oh, that! Yeah, I did an online orientation thing and… it did not go well. Let’s just say there’s someone in New York City who wants me dead,” he says conspiratorially. You all stare at him but he gives no further explanation. On your right, you hear Yunjin whisper what the fuck under her breath. “So I transferred here instead!”

“I didn’t know you were an exchange student,” Jay says, still looking just as confused.

“Yeah, man! But anyways, let’s not talk about uni right now. I’m on a bender, day three, baby! Do not talk to me tomorrow,” he says, chuckling until the smile suddenly drops from his face. “I mean that.” You look around yourself, glad to find everyone is just as baffled as you. “Let’s party!” Sunghoon cheers, intoxicated grin back on his lips. Jake and Jay follow, but you and the girls stay back for a second, taking in everything that has just happened.

“That. Is the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Chaewon blurts, staring blankly at the spot Sunghoon stood in a second ago.

“Yeah, he also seems to be a raging alcoholic. And he’s what, twenty-one?” Yunjin says, a scowl on her face. 

“I could fix him.”

“Okay, let’s go,” you say, grabbing your friends by their wrists before either of them can say something worse.

Feeling generous, Sunghoon buys shots for all six of you, and you quickly down them before heading to the dancefloor. On your way there, a group of sober-looking girls hand Chaewon a giant, still almost full jug of red liquid, something that costs at least twelve pounds here. They say they’re leaving and don’t need it anymore, smiling as you profusely and astonishedly thank them. You look at your friends, mentally weighing the risk and drugging possibility this might present, but shrug and pass the jug around after taking hearty sips anyway. It tastes so much like fizzy cherries that you wonder if it even contains any alcohol, but sure enough, twenty minutes later, the three of you are spinning around on the dancefloor, screaming the lyrics to your favourite pop songs at the top of your lungs. Jake at a club is a completely foreign sight to you, and you can’t stop laughing at all the silly moves he pulls. 

You’re shaking your whole body to a Nicki song from the early 2010s when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. Before you can turn around and slap whoever this random man is that thinks he can touch you, a familiar voice whispers it’s just me in your ear, and you simultaneously relax and tense up knowing that Jake is standing right behind you. “There’s a creep staring at you,” he explains, lips and breath gently tickling your ear as he speaks. You look around the room and quickly notice a man standing in a corner, drink in one hand and the other in his pocket, unmoving as he eyes you with a smirk so slimy it makes your stomach turn. To avoid his gaze, you turn around, but you’re not sure the sight you’re met with is much better for you.

Jake peers down at you, eyes slightly glossed over and cheeks flushed from the alcohol, jaw locked in annoyance. He glances at the guy in the corner, who you assume is still staring when you feel Jake’s hands brush along your sides until they reach your waist. His gaze returns to your face as he brings you a step closer to him. Reflexively, you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Is this okay?” he mouths. All you can do is meekly nod. You watch as his eyes deliberately scan your face, going down and down. Time stills when they reach your lips and stay there. It’s like someone has put the booming music of the club on mute, and the only thing you can hear is your heart loudly beating in your ears. You suddenly feel very sober.

You swear Jake’s face is slowly inching its way towards yours when you’re abruptly taken away. Yunjin has grabbed you by the forearm, leading you and Chaewon to the bathroom as she chants “Bathroom break! Bathroom break!”, clearly unaware of the moment she’s just interrupted.

Because of the queue for the girls’ bathroom and Chaewon’s decision to console this random girl who was in the middle of a breakdown, it’s not until half-an-hour later that you emerge back into the crowd. You spot the boys at a table, two empty shots each in front of them and all three with a beer in hand. They will not be happy checking their bank accounts tomorrow morning. 

“Y/N! You’re back!” Jake calls out happily when he spots you, and you can tell right away that he’s much drunker than when you left him. His whole face is flush, his eyes don’t open quite all the way, and a lopsided smile won’t leave his lips - even like this, he’s so pretty that you want to grab his hand and take him somewhere it’s just the two of you. 

Chaewon gets drinks for the three of you and then you’re dancing again. It’s already one am at this point, and the remaining two hours until the club closes, fueled with alcohol and good music, go by in a flash. Before you know it, the DJ is playing All of Me by John Legend and the lights have been turned on, clear signs that you’re overstaying your welcome. The few people that have made it to closing time stumble out of the club and into the street, heading for either the nearest subway stop or the next party of the night. Since there are no trains at this time, your group walks to the close-by bus station, listening to Jake and Sunghoon grumble about how the clubs in Seoul don’t close until at least five or six and how trains run all night there. 

The bus is already at the station when you get there, and the driver doesn’t seem too pleased about having six mildly drunk kids get on his bus, but he’s probably used to questionable people taking public transport at this time of the day anyway. Physically, Sunghoon is sitting across from you, but mentally, he’s off somewhere far, far from this bus. With his head against the window and mouth wide open, saliva pooling at the corner of his lips, he looks like he’s any second away from obnoxiously snoring. Jay and Yunjin are sitting somewhere you can’t see them, probably eating each other’s faces; she once told you they had their “most mind-blowing sex” when both a little drunk, and much to your dismay, you haven’t been able to get that piece of information out of your head since. Chaewon is on the phone to her long-distance bestie Sakura, for whom it’s a nice eleven in the morning right now. 

This means that you and Jake are left alone, both of you still tipsy and not tired enough to fall asleep. You drop your head on Jake’s shoulder, and not only does he let you, he also takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers and placing them atop his thigh. Clumsily, because he now has to use his left hand, Jake slips his phone out of his back pocket and shows you the photos he took all evening. As the night progresses, they get blurrier and blurrier, so much so that towards the end, you can’t tell what he was even trying to capture, and you laugh at how inappropriate some of these would be to submit in a university project. 

When he softly says your name, you don’t raise your head, simply humming to let him know you’re listening. You close your eyes, cherishing the way your name sounds on his lips. It’s his tone, tentative and vulnerable as he tells you there’s something he’s been wanting to ask you, that makes you look up at him. He, however, won’t meet your eyes, and settles his gaze on the window, even though it’s so dark outside you can’t make out a thing.

“How come you never replied to my letter? I know it’s been ages, but… I still find myself wondering about it.” The question is softly asked and you know he by no means wants to hurt you, but it still feels like a punch to the throat. You hadn’t remembered who it was that had sent the last letter, while he’d been wondering all these years why his words had been left unanswered. 

He seems set on not looking at you, so you rest your head back on his shoulder. Your hand is still in his. “I’m not sure, Jakey. I’m sorry,” you say, aware it’s not a satisfying answer. You’ve thought about why you and Jake had stopped talking for hours on end; you’ve discussed it with your friends and your mum, looked at it from all sorts of angles, tried to come up with real reasons other than time pulling you apart. But now that Jake himself is asking you about it, the words don’t come easy. You’ve theorised that you were afraid putting effort into sustaining your friendship would only hurt you in the end, because it was just that - a friendship. You could fool yourself into thinking you were okay only being friends with him when he was with you, that putting your feelings aside was worth it since you could at least spend time with him. But now that he was away, you didn’t have that anymore - it just hurt. So what was the point? And how could you phrase all this without betraying your feelings for him?

“Our letters were so sparse anyway back then, even our texts and calls were getting less and less frequent… And whenever I had a new boyfriend, I’d get into the same argument about being too close to you over and over again, even though you were literally on another continent.” 

“You know, I always felt sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“Those boyfriends of yours. I felt like you waited for me to leave before you started dating-”

“It wasn’t like that!” you exclaim, lifting your head again. Finally, he meets your eyes, gaze softening upon seeing your affronted expression. “It wasn’t like that,” you repeat, relaxing your tone. “If anything, they were the ones that waited for you to be gone. I'm sorry I let their jealousy get to me.”

Jake smiles, the tenderness in his gaze making your whole body turn to jelly. He squeezes your hands. “It’s okay. I just… I felt like I was always in the way of your relationships, even after I left.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry about that. They should’ve had more trust in me.”

He pauses, gaze dropping down to your intertwined hands. “I would’ve been jealous.” When his eyes find yours again, there’s something in them that you quite can’t place. It creates a ball of nerves that pull at your stomach. “If I were dating you, and you had a guy friend you were as close with as we were back then, I’d be jealous. You know, I’d assume he had feelings for you. And that you might have feelings for him, too.”

Because I did, you think. I did, and I still do. You try to communicate that thought to Jake, but telepathy works especially bad when one has as much alcohol coursing through their veins as you do right now. So instead, you say the opposite of what you’re thinking, turning away from Jake to avoid his gaze. You watch the dribble of saliva trickle from Sunghoon’s lips. “That’s not a great view of male-female friendship.” 

Jake’s retort comes immediately. “But we were different, right?”

His words echo through your head until they make even less sense than they did initially. Different from what? From who? You’re not sure - but you like the idea of you and Jake being different, special. You especially like the idea of Jake thinking so. So you look at him and smile. “Right.” 

Slowly, his grin fades and turns into a worried expression. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“We’re still different now, aren’t we?”

You want to wrap him in your arms so tightly neither of you can breathe. You settle for running a hand through his hair and pinching his cheek. “Course we are.” Your whole being relaxes when his face breaks into a smile again. 

--

The next morning, you wake up to Yunjin plopping down on your bed unceremoniously, shaking you awake, and asking you if you want anything from Snax Café. On one hand, you’re grateful that she thought of you and that in thirty minutes’ time, you’ll have the greasiest sausage wrap and hash browns known to man in your hand; on the other, you’d like to think that she knows you well enough to know to order your regular from there without asking. But that’s probably the hangover talking.

You stumble out of bed, thanking last night’s you for having remembered to take headache medicine before crashing. Even if your stomach is very upset with the copious amount of alcohol it needs to rid your body of, and your throat is begging for water, at least your head doesn’t feel like it’s been split into two. As Yunjin barges into Chaewon’s room just as she had done yours, you head for the kitchen to get yourself a tall glass of revitalising tap water. You’re only mildly surprised to find Sunghoon passed out on your living room couch - it takes you a few seconds to remember that the three of you took pity on him when you learned he lived over an hour’s walk from the station, so you let him spend the night on your uncomfortable, cold leather sofa. While you down your glass in three gulps, you hear Yunjin shaking Sunghoon awake and asking him loudly if he wanted something from Snax.

“Fuck, I’d kill for a Snax right now,” he groggily says before he’s even opened his eyes. When he does, they dart around the room until they land on Yunjin, who's crouching in front of him. He looks like he thought her question was asked in a dream and not in real life. He also looks like he's not quite sure where he is, or who Yunjin is. It isn’t until Jay comes wobbling out of Yunjin’s bed to the couch opposite Sunghoon that the memories seem to piece back together in his head. The three of you watch him like he’s an unstable mental patient and you’re his doctors. 

“No need for that, I’m ordering it on Deliveroo.” He nods his head and goes back to sleep for the time being. 

Just as you’re about to text Jake, your phone rings with a call from him. His raspy morning voice as he asks you whether you slept well makes you want to put your head in an oven heated at 200 degrees Celsius. However, you resist the urge, and answer him with a smile, then ask him the same question.

“I slept pretty well too. I’d have slept in longer but one of my flatmates decided to have a Sunday fucking brunch and his friends are so loud. Can I come over?”

You’re very aware of the other people in the room, especially of Chaewon who has just walked in and is eyeing you suspiciously as if to say, Why are you smiling so hard at ten in the morning? You know the girls would jump at any opportunity to tease you about Jake, and with the added presence of Sunghoon in the room, you can’t have that. So you stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat and answer as nonchalantly as you can. It also gives you the chance to reflect on why Jake Sim asking you whether he can come over makes you want to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl so much.

(Maybe it’s because when it comes to him, you’re still the giddy schoolgirl you used to be.)

“Yeah, of course. I was going to ask you if you wanted anything from Snax, actually.”

“Snax? What’s that?”

“Oh my God, Jake, am I about to introduce you to Snax right now?”

Twenty minutes later, the six of you are sitting around your small living room table, all varying amounts of tired, dehydrated and famished as you dig into your breakfast. Given your current levels of energy, it’s fairly quiet; plus, the food hits such a spot that it’s hard to talk and eat at the same time. Jake eats like he’s never had a breakfast wrap and hash brown in his life. It’s an endearing sight if you’ve ever seen one. 

You spend the afternoon together, watching movies curled up in your bed, and you try desperately not to think about the implications of that - except that’s hard to do when Jake is right next to you, legs and arms ever-so-slightly brushing against yours, his warmth so close yet so out of reach. You purposefully let him pick movies you’ve already seen so that you don’t have to focus on anything but your own thoughts and the faint but dizzying scent of his body wash. The both of you had an innumerable amount of sleepovers as kids, so this shouldn’t feel weird, but it decidedly does, probably because you’re much more aware of him now in a way you weren’t before.  

As hard as you try to figure out what exactly he meant by “different,” you draw a blank. The only way you’ll understand is if you ask him, and you’re far too scared to do that. You don’t want to seem so hung upon a singular word he used when he was tipsy. It might be slightly dramatic, but you felt like some sort of balance had been restored since Jake was back in your life - the problem was it made you scared to do anything that might threaten this newfound equilibrium. It at least seems like different means a good thing to him, and that’s enough for you. 

You look over to him when the second movie comes to an end. He’s sleeping peacefully, lashes caressing the skin under his eyes and cheeks looking rounder than usual. It’d be so easy to reach a finger out and trace the line descending from the top of his forehead to his chin, gliding along the bump of his nose and feeling the plumpness of his rosy lips, but you settle for drawing that line with your eyes instead.  

You don’t think you’ll be able to fall asleep with him next to you and your heart beating so loudly in your ears, but you find yourself waking up a few hours later, the sun already starting to set. Jake is already awake, scrolling on his phone, one arm casually behind his head as if being in your bed is as comfortable to him as being in his own. When he sees you’ve woken up, his honey-coated smile washes warmly over you, and he makes a joke about how he keeps on falling asleep when he’s with you. “I feel that at ease, I guess,” he says, and you hope you’re not making up the small blush that spreads over his cheeks. 

--

Semesters are always a short and intense affair, but this one passes by even quicker with Jake by your side. Before you know it, it’s midterms already, and you and Jake have travelled enough for him to complete his project and make another one just for the hell of it. He had scoured the internet for the cheapest train tickets and most noteworthy sites, planning trips that lasted anywhere between three hours and a day for the two of you. All you needed to do was follow and trust him, which was the easiest thing anyone could’ve asked of you. 

You’ve gone back to Glasgow, during the day, this time, as well as St. Andrews and Aberdeen. You’ve practically visited every loch and castle in a one-hour train ride radius of Edinburgh, and Jake has more lined up for the second part of the semester. He’s even said that your trips should continue being a thing next term, and you couldn’t have agreed faster. With every new destination, every train ride spent looking out a window or laughing about everything and anything, any odd Scottish food you try for the first time, you somehow fall for him a bit deeper. You didn’t know your love for him could bloom any more than it already had - but Jake is the gift that keeps on giving, and, unwillingly or not, he always finds new ways to make your heart speed that much faster.

Attentionate, affectionate, sweet Jake who always makes sure you’re comfortable wherever you go, always gives you his jacket or tucks your hair behind your ear to prevent it from falling in your face. Who, as time passed, grew more touchy, would hold your hand, ruffle your hair, pinch your cheek, which was simultaneously devastating and elating. Who, you could tell, started to linger more, both in his touch and in his gaze. Questions of does he love me back or am I seeing what I want to see? nearly drove you mad. 

--

“I feel like at this point the only way she’ll understand that I like her is if I kill myself and write in my suicide note that it’s her fault for not loving me back.”

Jake has been pacing back and forth in Jay’s living room for approximately twenty minutes, with no end in sight. At least he’ll have gotten most of his ten thousand steps of the day in.

Jay sighs heavily. “Okay, I really don’t think you need to go that far.”

“Sounds romantic to me,” Sunghoon says, mouth full of salted caramel popcorn.

“I hope you never get a girlfriend,” Jay retorts, looking at his deranged friend with a scowl. He turns back to his (slightly more) normal friend and gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I mean, I told her we were different. Different. That we weren’t like regular friends. I tell her she’s pretty every chance I get. I give her my jacket all the time, even though this country is fucking cold. I’ve even given her a t-shirt of mine, sprayed with my perfume and everything. And don’t get me wrong, I do it ‘cause I love doing that for her-”

“Simp,” Sunghoon snickers.

“But what the hell else can I do? Like, she has to be ignoring it on purpose at this point.” 

“You could always, you know… tell her?”

Jake scoffs, fixing his friend with a derisive look. “Wow. What a great idea, Jay, I never thought of that one before!”

A popcorn lands right on Jay’s cheek. “You’re so clueless, man,” Sunghoon says, a shit-eating smirk on his lips. As if he knows any better.

Jay looks back-and-forth between his friends, an expression on his face like he’s been disparaged. “Sorry, I didn’t know being straightforward and honest was such a bad thing. It would just make things a lot clearer for the both of you.”

“But… I’m scared,” Jake says. 

“Man up!” Sunghoon suddenly yells, punching the sofa next to him, making his friends jump. “How can she ever figure it out if you don’t tell her?”

“You were on my side just a second ago, man, what are you doing?” Jake asks, confusion written all over his face. Sunghoon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two boys, retreating into silence as he stuffs his mouth with another handful of popcorn.

“Just ignore him,” Jay says. “But for once, he did say something that makes a modicum of sense. You think you’re being really obvious, but you might not actually be. Which could be a good sign, you know. I heard girls were super aware of a guy liking them if they weren’t into him, but being totally oblivious if they did like him.”

“Where did you hear that?” Jake asks, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“...Instagram Reels,” Jay reluctantly admits, frowning at Sunghoon who bursts into laughter. 

Jake holds the bridge of his nose between two fingers like his head aches. “You’re both so useless, I’m never coming to you with my problems ever again.”

“I’ll pretend I’m not offended by that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, anyway,” Sunghoon says. He’s smiling but Jake genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“But seriously, if you think you’ve done everything, then just do one last thing that’s so obvious she can’t misinterpret it,” Jay says.

“Like what?”

“Like kissing her, or some-”

“Kissing her?!” Jake echoes.

“That’s wild, man,” Sunghoon uselessly butts in.

“It’s just an example, calm yourselves,” Jay says. “Or, again, just straight up tell her how you feel. It’s what I did with Yunjin, and it worked.”

“You and Yunjin are dating?” Sunghoon asks, bewildered.

Jay shakes his head at him. “Where the hell have you been, bro? We were literally cuddling on the couch the other day.”

“I just thought you were really good friends, or something.”

Jake groans, holding his head in his hands. Sunghoon was of no help whatsoever, and Jay was so on point that it annoyed him. Confessing was the only solution - but Jake was so afraid of being rejected and losing your friendship that he had barely entertained the thought. But he had found the courage to do it once, and even though his planned confession had fallen through back then, he could get himself together and do it again. 

It was the day he had told you he was moving to Korea, which he himself had learned that morning. Originally, he’d texted you because he had news to share - good news. Or at least, he hoped they were good. He hoped the soft, lingering looks you gave him weren’t a figment of his imagination but rather the confirmation he needed that you liked him back. He hoped that like him, you cared too much about your friendship to make the first move into something else; that by confessing first, you’d be relieved of that responsibility; that his wish to hold your hand and kiss your forehead wasn’t one-sided. 

He decided not to prepare anything - just a couple sentences that he’d rehearsed over and over in his head. Declarations of love, bouquets of flowers, chocolate and couple keychains, all that could wait until after you’d said yes to being his girlfriend. He didn’t want to win you over just once, he wanted to show you every day how much he loved you. Fourteen-year-old Jake was absolutely head over heels for you; so imagine his disappointment when, as he was getting ready to meet with you, his parents called him downstairs, a tone to their voice Jake wasn’t familiar with, but that couldn’t mean anything good. 

“Your dad’s job is sending us back to Seoul next month,” his mom announced, not beating around the bush. He felt everything quite literally crumbling down around him. His friends in Brisbane, his school, his hobbies, but above all, you. He’d lose it all. And what was the point now in telling you how he felt? If you felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if you didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

What he had planned to be good news turned into the most awful ones. The thought of it happening all over again makes twenty-year-old Jake shudder. But he wouldn’t let himself be trapped by time again - sure, in seven months, the academic year would be over, and he would go back to Korea. But that didn’t mean that those seven months should be spent in agony, or the following ones either, for that matter. You would make it work. What was long-distance to someone who loved someone else as much as Jake loved you?

But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. He has to start by really resolving to do this, and in the off-chance that it actually goes in his favour, he’d start worrying about long distance then.

First, he has a trip to plan.

--

You should’ve known that a trip to the Scottish Highlands in the middle of November was a risky choice in terms of weather. The day started off nicely enough - no sign of rain when you woke up or as you watched the sunrise through the train window. Clouds turned the sky a bright white at first, then increasingly greyer and greyer. You feel the first drops of rain after lunch as you walk around a small village. By four pm, it’s pitch black and storming like you’ve rarely seen before. You head into a pub to grab a drink as you wait for the rain to subside, but subside it does not. You end up ordering fish and chips, one each, although one serving is enough to feed three. Even after taking your time eating, the bad weather does not let up. The last train, which is meant to be at eight pm, has been cancelled. Luckily, there’s an inn right across the road from the pub; you have no choice but to spend the night. 

The inn receptionist is sitting so low on her chair, you can barely see her over the desk until you’re standing right over it. Her face is hidden by a book and it’s only when you say hiya that she seems to realise you’re there. You had never heard of the book or of its author, but you recognized the cover design as that of those romance novels with repetitive plots and weirdly misogynistic love interests your mum and every other middle-aged woman was obsessed with.

Her smile widens as she looks between you and Jake. “Hi there. One room for the lovely couple?”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Yes, please,” Jake interrupts, smiling down at her, then at you. “It’ll be cheaper if we share a room.”

“Our only room with two single beds is already taken, I’m afraid. One double bed okay for you two?”

You feel like you’re about to faint, so you’re glad Jake is there to answer. “Yeah, of course.” How the idea of sharing one bed with you is so okay to him, you’re not sure - granted, you’ve done it before, but this feels different. For all intents and purposes, this is a hotel room you’re staying in. And you’re staying in it with Jake. 

You try to calm your breathing as the receptionist guides you to your room, chatting casually with Jake on the way there. As she unlocks the door for you, she informs you that check-out must be done before eleven in the morning tomorrow, then bids you good night and leaves you to it, still wearing that smile you swear has mischievousness to it. The door clicks shut behind you, and it’s just Jake and you again, together in this small room until tomorrow morning. Your chances of survival are very, very low. 

Your room is a humble one, consisting of a desk, a cupboard, two armchairs, a small, separate bathroom and the infamous bed. Every surface seems to be covered with wood, from the ceiling, to the walls, to the old-fashioned furniture. Only the floor is a soft, beige carpet. Especially with the darkness outside, it makes for a gloomy room until you turn on the lamp by the entrance; it casts a warm, golden light in the room, one that would make you feel at ease if it wasn’t for Jake’s presence next to you. The implications of being essentially trapped in a barely-lit room with him are heavy on your mind, especially when he looks this gorgeous with his hair still damp from the rain and the soft lights playing on his face. 

His voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Right. Do you, um, do you wanna shower first?” he asks, setting his bag on one of the armchairs.

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” There has never been such an awkward tension between the two of you, but you know you’re not doing anything to ease it. You hope a shower will help you get out of your head and make you relax.

You feel the tension leave your muscles under the hot water, but your stomach is still in knots. You’ve never been this nervous around Jake before; back when you were fourteen and again in these past few months, you’d gotten so used to dealing with your unspoken feelings for him that you could almost forget about them when you were with him. They’d come back to you when you were alone and dwelling on the moments you’d spent together, on his words and actions you desperately tried not to read too much into but always ended up doing anyway. But right now, they’ve floated to the surface, becoming as obvious to you as a stain on your skin you can’t rub away. You’re scared Jake will notice it, and, in the worst case scenario you often thought about, would run away and never speak to you again. 

At least the raging storm outside would make that a bit harder.

When you step out of the shower, you curse yourself for not having worn more comfortable clothes on this trip. You definitely can’t wear these jeans and button-up sweater to lounge around. Thankfully, the inn provides two long bathrobes that you could wear over underwear and your tank top, but you wonder where on the scale of inappropriate this would be to wear with Jake in the room. He’s seen you in short pyjama shorts before, but this, like everything else that would usually be normal between the two of you, feels weird today. 

You wrap the bathrobe around yourself, tying it in place around your waist, and decide that it’d only be weird if you made it weird. And if Jake found the sight of your bare legs weird, then he was the weird one.

The scene you’re met with as you walk into the room makes you want to retreat into the bathroom immediately. Jake is lying on the bed with his upper half against the headboard, one leg extended and the other one bent, resting his head against one palm, using his free hand to scroll through his phone. His t-shirt has ridden up slightly, putting the waistband of his Calvin Kleins into view. Worst of all, when he sees you, his face breaks into a grin. 

Your stomach twists when he gives you a once-over, letting his gaze linger on your legs. “Did you bring a bathrobe with you or was it included?” he asks with an annoyingly handsome smirk.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I bring a bathrobe with me wherever I go,” you say sarcastically. “Now shut up and go shower, you stink.” Reverting to insults is always the solution when you’re internally freaking out.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He takes so long in the shower that by the time he comes out, you’ve dozed off in bed. As if you were a child, he wakes you up with a boop to the nose, crouching next to the bed and smiling at you. His wet hair falls on his head like that of a movie star in a shower scene, which you find extremely unfair, and his cheeks are red from the warmth of the water. 

“It’s still early. Do you wanna go grab another drink?”

“In our bathrobes?” you say, laughing. “Nah, I don’t really feel like drinking anyway.” Read: I’m not sure what I’ll do with alcohol in me.

“Okay, no worries. Um, I think I saw they had board games in the lobby?”

Your ears perk up at this. “Ooh, what kind of board games?”

Putting jeans on underneath his bathrobe, Jake slips away for a minute and comes back with Monopoly, Uno, and a deck of cards. “They didn’t have much for two players,” he says, dumping everything on the bed. 

You already knew that anything would become fun if you did it with Jake, but you definitely didn’t expect to spend almost five hours just playing Monopoly and card games with him. Neither of you stays put for very long, always switching from sitting criss-cross to laying on your stomach, making fun of the other’s bathrobe even though you’re wearing the exact same thing. You make each other laugh as you make up your own nonsense rules and disregard the laws of your games, attacking the other ruthlessly for a couple extra points or coins. Jake even makes you go get snacks from a corner store that’s miraculously still open because you lose the first round of Uno. 

After some time, Jake lets out a loud yawn, which in turn makes you yawn too. He checks his phone to find that it’s close to midnight already. “Time for bed?” he asks, and your nervousness that had finally dissipated as you played came rushing back. 

You nod. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The two of you clean up before brushing your teeth. Even that, with Jake by your side, becomes a silly affair as he pulls faces in the mirror and nudges your hip with his. You stay behind to use the toilet, and when you come back out, Jake’s already in bed, bathrobe tossed on one of the armchairs. This means that Jake is just casually in a t-shirt and boxers, waiting for you to join him in bed. Luckily, his back is turned to you, so you quickly take off your own bathrobe and slide under the sheets, careful to keep your distance from him. The sheets are cold underneath you, and you know it’ll take a while before your body heat warms them up - although you feel very hot and bothered because of the man lying next to you. 

“Gosh, I’m really sleepy all of a sudden,” he says, words distorted by a yawn. You only hum in response, and he reaches for the lamp to turn it off. Just like that, you’re in complete darkness, and Jake’s body is mere inches from your own. 

It’s eerily quiet for a while, and when you’ve managed to slow your heartbeat and regularise your breathing, you start trying to fall asleep. You toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position until Jake’s low, sleepy voice breaks the silence. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, and you freeze.

You sigh. “No. I’m sorry for keeping you up,” you say guiltily.

“It’s okay. I can’t really sleep either. It’s a bit cold in here.”

You pause. “Right. Yeah, it is,” you say, even though you feel like you’re sweating buckets. 

The room plunges into silence again, long enough for you to think Jake has fallen asleep. You feel something cold against your foot, only realising as it slides up your calf that it’s his foot. “Jake!” you whisper-yell, withdrawing your leg as he bursts into giggles that warm your heart. “Your feet are so cold,” you say in-between chuckles.

“I’m cold all over,” he whines. “Have they not turned the heating on yet? It’s already mid-November.”

“People are used to the cold here.”

“Well I’m not. Can we cuddle?” he suddenly asks, and he must somehow feel the way you freeze in place because he stammers out a justification straight away. “For, I mean, just for warmth, you know. I don’t think I’ll sleep otherwise.”

His foot finds yours again and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, fine,” you say with a sigh as if you were doing only half-heartedly for his sake. As if this was some big sacrifice you were making, and not something you’d daydreamed about one too many times before. 

Your heart is beating a thousand miles a second when you scooch closer to Jake, his hands finding your waist as easily as if they’d been there a hundred times before. He pulls you in much closer than you had expected, holding you tightly against his chest, one arm for you to use as a pillow and one hand resting on your lower back. You try to calm your respiration so that he can’t hear how short of breath you are, but based on his own breathing, he seems to be out in five minutes. It takes you longer to fall asleep, every shift of his body sending shivers down your spine, but you manage to relax after some time, letting his warmth envelop you as you drift off to sleep.

--

The feeling of waking up with you in his arms is so unreal, Jake thinks he might still be dreaming.

He looks down at your peaceful sleeping face and can’t stop the smile that spreads on his lips. Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but this is a sight he particularly wants to commit to memory. He watches fondly as the bright sun rays of the early morning hit your face, making you scrunch your eyebrows and bury your face deeper against him. You grunt softly, and when he feels you shifting and stretching your legs, he pretends to fall asleep so you don’t catch him staring. It seems like you’ve raised your head, chin tilted towards him - if he’s lucky, you’re watching him “sleep” just like he did seconds ago.

He contains a smile at the joke that forms itself in his brain before shooting his eyes open, catching you off guard during what you thought was a private, secret moment. 

“Shit!” you yelp, practically jumping off of him and rolling onto the other side of the bed. He bursts into laughter, proud that his little prank was effective. Before you can scold him, he makes his way to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing your back against his chest. He thinks he feels your body tense; but then you bring your hand over his, swiping your thumb back and forth against his skin, and you relax in his hold. “You’re so annoying,” you complain, but your voice is tender, almost weak.

He buries his face in your hair, trying not to be too loud when he inhales there. “Sorry,” he says, the smile evident in his voice. “The opportunity was right there. Caught you staring, huh?”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Jake is more than happy to enjoy this moment in silence, but there’s something burning the tip of his tongue. It’s been there for a while now, but he thinks he’s finally found the right moment. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“There’s something I couldn’t tell you last night, but I feel oddly okay saying it right now. Are you listening?” 

“I am, yeah,” you say gently, voice so soft it caresses his skin and draws goosebumps from it.

His chest expands and falls with a deep, shaky breath. With your back right against it, he’s scared you’ll hear that his heart is beating faster than it should. “Bad news first?” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Uh-oh.”

“There’s no roundabout way to say this, so here goes, I guess.” He takes another breath. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.” You tense in his embrace, and he waits for you to say something, anything before he continues.

“Oh,” is all you say. He hopes it’s a good oh - even if it isn’t, he doesn’t let it deter him.

“Yeah. I really debated telling you this… I know you might not feel the same way. But I also know that if I don’t say anything and make the same mistake twice, I’ll beat myself up over it for the rest of my life.”

“The same mistake?” you ask, looking at him over your shoulder.

He gazes down at you tenderly, pushing hair away from your face with a gentle hand. “I already felt that way back when we lived in Australia. I was about to tell you but when I learned that I was moving, I didn’t wanna risk ruining the little time we had left together.”

The look on your face both breaks his heart and patches it up again. “Jakey…” you say, voice just a whisper. You turn around to face him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. The fact that you’re not saying much is making his stomach twist in agonising stress, but he takes it as a good sign that you’re still holding him tight and not running away.

“I think I’d be the luckiest guy on Earth if you felt the same way,” he says, hopefulness clear in his voice. 

And then he finally hears the words he’s been dying to hear all these years. “Of course, I feel the same way, Jake,” you say, eyes meeting his. “This isn’t bad news at all, it’s like, the best possible news ever.”

It takes him a few seconds, but when your words sink in, a bright smile graces his features. He feels tears coming up - tears of relief that you feel the same way, of sadness that it took the both of you so long to get here, of happiness that something new might start - he’s not sure. Perhaps everything at once.

“Of course?” he echoes, smiling wildly. “It wasn’t obvious to me.”

“Oh, gosh,” you murmur, burying yourself into him once more. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

He tightened his hold around you, bringing you to him as close as physically possible. “Me neither.”

The feeling of you tangling your bare legs with his and bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt in your fist awakens something in him - he had been in his head, thanking the heavens that you loved him back, reeling from his belated confession, but he was now very aware of his body. And of yours. He was reminded of Jay telling him to kiss you - although he hadn’t needed to go there to reveal his feelings to you, it was still a possibility. It was even more so now that he knew you felt the same way. 

He tries to be subtle as he brushes a hand up your back to the nape of your neck, gently grazing his fingernails against the skin there. He has to suppress a self-satisfied smirk when he feels you squirm under his touch, lifting your head to fix him with a scolding look. Your stern expression fades as soon as his eyes fall on your lips, however, and you quickly mirror his gaze. His lips part, and he feels his whole body shake as he takes a deep breath in. Who knew that you’d share your first kiss on a random Sunday morning in the fuckass middle of nowhere in Scotland?

Maybe you take pity on him, or you recognise the effort put into being the one to make the first move, or, as he’d like to think, you just really want to kiss him - either way, you’re the one who closes the gap and presses your lips to his.

Your lips. So soft, so delicate against his, absolutely perfect. It’s a simple, tentative touch, but he’s craved it for so long that it makes his head spin. He frowns, despite himself instantly needing more than this feather-like feeling of your lips brushing against each other. His mind tells him to calm down and take it slow, but his body takes over, urging him to grab the nape of your neck a little harder, to hold you a little closer to him, to kiss you a little stronger. Thankfully, you let him do all of this and more, hands finding purchase in his hair and returning his intensity tenfold. 

He doesn’t know what’s better - the fact that you’re kissing him or the kiss itself. The way your lips move against his is intoxicating; it wraps itself around its mind and leaves no room for thoughts that aren’t of you. You seem to want him as desperately as he wants you, to have waited for him as long as he did for you, and this is what drives him crazy. You press your body against his and he sees stars; you let out a moan against his lips and he kisses you deeper, ready to do anything to hear that melody again. 

Unfortunately, the only melody he gets to hear is that of his phone alarm, informing you that it’s quarter to eleven and that you have fifteen minutes to leave. Check-out at eleven am had sounded nice yesterday; now, he would stay in this dingy inn his whole life if it meant he got to keep kissing you. 

The both of you reluctantly break apart, bursting into giddy laughter when your eyes meet. As said before, Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but with your pupils blown and your lips plump from kissing, this might just be the prettiest he’s ever seen you. 

“You know, I like you a lot, but I’d like you even more if you could stop time,” you say.

He looks down at you with a smile, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen on your face. “Sure, I’ll learn how to control time for you.”

“Thanks, Jakey.” You peck his lips, lingering, and he closes his eyes to savour your sweetness. 

“Anything for you, baby.” His eyes widen at the nickname slip, but you erupt into giggles.

“Baby?”

“Would you look at the time, we really got to go,” he says, detangling his limbs from yours. He pauses for a second. “Baby,” he repeats, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before bouncing from the bed.

You get ready together, and the mundane tasks of stripping sheets from a bed and packing bags become the funnest things he’s ever done. You’re all over each other, attacking the other with kisses and hugs; Jake doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite this happy. 

And this is only the beginning.

--

There’s a glint in the receptionist’s eyes when you check out of your room, as if she knew something you and Jake had been oblivious to all along. It’s the only one in town, so you go back to the little pub for a full breakfast with eggs, hash browns, haggis, and sausages. You get coffee so strong you think you might not sleep for the next four days, while Jake drinks tea that is equal parts sugar, milk, and actual tea.

From the moment you leave the pub to the moment you arrive at your doorstep, Jake’s hands barely leave yours. When they have to, like when you’re searching for the perfect seat on the train or when the controller checks your tickets, they’re back together within a minute, like two magnets that can’t stay apart for too long. The rain has long subsided, leaving place to a bright blue sky and wet blades of grass that shine in the sun. 

Now that your mutual feelings don’t need to be kept secret, you tell each other about everything you had to go through, like you pretending your good news was your mum having baked the cookies Jake liked and him seeing your new boyfriends every two months on your close friends story. He tells you about all the hints he’s dropped, causing you to facepalm over and over again. It feels like two friends catching each other to speed on all the latest gossip, except the topic of that gossip is you.

The juxtaposition of your familiarity with Jake with the novelty of behaving like a couple, of not having to hold back with your touches or gazes or words, is nothing if not jarring. But you have a feeling you’ll get used to it in no time. 

As you unlock the front door to your building, you don’t ask him if he’s coming up - to you, it’s a given that you’ll be spending the rest of today and every day after that together. So when he doesn’t follow you, staying still on the threshold, you turn around with a questioning look on your face. 

“There’s something I need to do this afternoon,” he says, taking both of your hands in his.

“Can’t I come with?” you say. Jake wavers for a second, but sadly, he stays firm in his decision.

“Sorry, baby, it’s a surprise. I’ll be back at seven with takeout?”

You can’t possibly be mad at him when he calls you baby and offers food in the same breath. “Only if you bring takeout.”

“You only love me because I feed you, don’t you?” he asks, a smile on his face.

“Yup,” you reply. You’re standing on a step, so you bend down to kiss him - you intend for it to be a peck, but when your lips touch, you’re unable to pull away. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, in the warmth that takes over your body and makes your brain all fuzzy. 

A loud, affronted gasp from behind you makes you jump from Jake, and when you turn around, Chaewon and Yunjin are standing in the stairwell, staring at you with wide eyes and gaping mouths. 

“So this was a sexcapade?” is, much to your horror, the first thing Yunjin says.

Thanks to Chaewon, neither you nor Jake have the time to dwell on this sentence as she comes running down the stairs and pounces on you. You don’t know how a woman so small can have such force, but her hug is so tight you can barely breathe, let alone hug her back properly. “I knew you could do it!” she exclaims. When she pulls away, she seems so moved, it looks like she’s about to cry. “You finally popped your Jake cherry,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for Jake to hear. A bark of laughter escapes his throat.

“Okay, thanks, guys,” you say, escaping this awkward situation and going up the stairs. “I’ll see you later, Jake!” you yell over your shoulder. The girls seem to be on their way out, and you’re more than happy leaving him to deal with them on his own. God knows you’ll get the worst of it when they come back. 

As soon as you get to your flat, you make a beeline for your bedroom, plopping on the bed. You’re the same person, and this is the same room. But something within you feels entirely different, like a scar that you had been carrying around had, without you even noticing, healed so well you could barely see it anymore. You lifted your hands in the air, looked at the back of them, then at your palms. They were the same old hands that had been with you your whole life, and you were almost shocked that there wasn’t something utterly different about them after having held Jake’s hand for so long. Just to be sure, you sniffed your right hand, but it didn’t smell any different, either. But you still felt Jake’s hand on yours, like headphones you’d been wearing for hours and still felt on your ears after taking them off.

Yunjin and Chaewon are back from their shopping half-an-hour later; they got you a chocolate fudge cake from Tesco to congratulate you. “You guys are acting like this is my birthday…” you say, eyeing the cake greedily as Chaewon cuts it into three equal parts (even though it says serves eight on the packaging). 

“This is more important than your birthday, Y/N,” Yunjin states as she pours oat milk into three cups of Earl Grey tea. “This is, like, the moment of a lifetime.”

“Are you saying a girl’s importance depends on her having a boyfriend?”

“Yes, Y/N, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Especially when said boyfriend is the guy she’s been pining after for all of her teenage and adult life.”

You sigh. “Well, he hasn’t exactly popped the boyfriend and girlfriend question yet.” They both turn to look at you, an annoyed look on their faces. You stand up straight, uncomfortable under their gazes. “What?”

“Usually, I’m all for clarity on this issue,” Chaewon starts. “But isn’t it pretty obvious here?”

“You’re still gonna have to tell us everything in minute detail, but Jake’s already told us what happened. He had no qualms referring to you as his girlfriend, so I really don’t think this is something you need to worry about. What you should worry about is when and where you’re going to hop on that dick.”

Chaewon bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but follow suit. “Gosh, Yunjin, you really do have a way with words.”

“I know. This is what having a Jane Austen hyperfixation at fifteen will do to you.”

Following Yunjin’s orders, you tell them about the events of the previous day and this morning over tea and cake. They ooh and ah and gasp in all the right places, ask you very specific questions and even make you draw a picture of the room you stayed in. You’ve talked to them about Jake so many times that there’s only so much to say now - but still, you talk for hours on end, deviating off-topic so often you end up talking about something else entirely. 

You’re in bed reading for your Middle English Literature class when the doorbell rings. It’s seven on the dot, so it can be no one else other than Jake. It’s been mere hours, but you’ve missed him enough to last you for weeks. 

He brought takeaway from the Indian place you’d raved about a hundred times but hadn’t brought him to yet. Somehow, your heart grows even fonder as you watch his reaction to the food, the raise of his eyebrows, the widening of his eyes, the excited shimmy of his shoulders. When you ask him about his afternoon, a wide smile breaks out onto his face, like a lightbulb illuminating a room. Without a word, he scurries to your room, bringing back some sort of book with him. He hands it to you  with a shy smile and curious eyes, eagerly anticipating your reaction. The cover reads Y/N and Jake in his clumsy but endearing handwriting, with the date of his arrival in Edinburgh and an em-dash scribbled underneath. “I haven’t booked my flight home yet, so I’ll add the second date later,” he explains. 

When you flick through it, you’re met with photographs of you and Jake on all of the trips you’ve done so far, as well as the various adventures you got up to in the city. There’s even one of you sleeping in the library at two am during midterms when you had forgotten about one of your essays, due at midday. Jake had come with coffee and words of encouragement, and now he could brag that the high mark you got was thanks to him. It’s not only photos - it’s also ticket stubs, receipts, stickers, and even a dried flower you had found pretty on your trip to St. Andrews. He’s also written quite a lot, from diary-like entries about what you got up to that day or songs that reminded him of you. 

“You misspelt right here,” you say, pointing to a sentence that reads This is the café write next to the hotel where the last Harry Potter book is said to have been written!!! under a photo of you drinking a massive cup of hot chocolate. The more you look at the typo, the more it makes you laugh, until you have tears brimming in your eyes.

Thanks to Yunjin’s messiness, pens and pencils are strewn over your coffee table. Jake, flushed red in embarrassment at the small mistake, snatches a pencil and aggressively erases write, spelling it correctly the second time around. “This is the level of today’s English Lit undergrads,” he murmurs under his breath. His frown disappears when he looks at you and he laughs along.

You continue looking through the album until you land on a page titled Why I love Y/N. From top to bottom, left to right, it’s filled with Jake’s tiny handwriting. You can tell he put effort into making it neat. There’s a singular photograph of you, one that dates from the first days after Jake’s arrival when you were walking around in the Meadows, the park right next to campus. The sun shone down on you and you smiled brightly at Jake behind the camera.  

You’re not a quarter through reading when tears swell in your eyes, rendering your vision blurry. You wipe them away before they can fall and stain the page. Jake has detailed every last thing he loves about you. It can hardly get cornier than this, but the fact that he wrote this about you makes your heart so full, you’re afraid it might explode in your chest. It ranges from basic things like the way she makes me laugh or her pretty face when she falls asleep in the train (or anywhere, for that matter) to more you-specific things like the strict pastel colour-coding she uses for her notes and her perseverance when eating spicy food even though she can’t take it. He mentions things about you that you didn’t even know, and that feeling of being known in-and-out, of being really seen by someone else only brings more tears to your eyes. Your favourite line comes at the end - the way she makes any place feel like home. A proper sob pushes past your lips at this, and Jake, who had been watching you with an anxious smile, rests a palm on your knee and inches closer to you.

“Why are you crying, is- Did I write something bad?”

You shake your head fervently. “No, no, Jakey, this is… It’s perfect. I’m just…” you trail, letting out a half-sob, half-chuckle. You look at him with a smile before pulling him into a tight hug. “I love it so much. I love you so much.”

You can feel Jake relax against you. “I love you too, baby. I’m glad you like it.”

You pull away after a small while, and turn the next page over. It’s a picture of you over breakfast this morning, with words WE’RE DATING!!!! written underneath it, and those simple words make you so happy, your cheeks ache from smiling. But every page after that is empty. Jake scratches the back of his neck. “I, um, I thought we could fill the rest out together. I debated just doing it myself and giving it to you at the end of the year, but I thought it’d be more fun doing it together.”

“It would. This is such an amazing idea,” you say, flicking back through the pages.

“I thought of it because of that project I had. When I started working on it, all the photos I wanted to include were of you, but I wasn’t sure how much my professor would appreciate that… So I decided to make one more personal. One for us,” he says shyly, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“Thank you so much, Jakey.”

He smiles. “It’s no worries.”

“Did you do it all this afternoon?”

“I had started it before, but I added it most of today, yeah. Which, by the way, awful timing. I wanted nothing more than to spend today with you.”

Your heart leaps. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to hearing such words from Jake’s mouth.

Sometime later, you’re laying in bed with Jake between your legs, watching the most recent animated Spiderman movie. With the tips of your fingers, you draw random patterns on his forearm, and if it wasn’t for his occasional chuckles, you’d think he had fallen asleep. You chat for a bit after the movie, but you find that after such an emotionally-packed day, you’re ready to call it a night fairly early. But when the lights are off and it’s just you lying against Jake’s chest, his fingernails grazing your scalp and his familiar, comforting scent clouding your judgement, all thoughts of an early night are thrown out of the window.

You shouldn’t feel so nervous - you had fallen asleep in his arms last night, and it had gone well. Really well. 

“This is different from yesterday, isn’t it?” Jake suddenly says, breaking the heavy silence with a low voice. It’s like he read your mind.

“Yeah,” you whisper against his skin.

No other words are needed. You brush the tip of your nose along his neck until you reach his jawline, pressing soft kisses there and delighting in the increasing shakiness of his breath. The feeling of your lips meeting is so intense, so all-encompassing, that you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle anything more.

This is still new territory, but you’re both so eager to discover it that it makes for a messy kiss, lips moving against each other ravenously, tongues beckoning moans from the other. It’s a kiss that somehow leaves you breathless and breathes oxygen back into your lungs at once. 

In a matter of seconds, Jake has flipped you on your back and is hovering over you, one hand holding him up and one hand free to roam your body. He slips it underneath your t-shirt, brushes it along the side of your waist, his touch leaving behind a trail of fire blazing on your skin. It’s so distracting, you can’t even kiss him back properly anymore. Jake doesn’t seem to mind. At first, when he starts pressing hot kisses to your jawline and your neck, you think he’s giving you a respite - but when he gently sinks his teeth into the skin there, leaving marks that will later remind you tonight wasn’t a dream, chuckling as you squirm and whine under him, you understand that this is anything but a respite. 

You curse your earlier decision of not wearing a bra, because it gives you no preparation whatsoever to the sensation of Jake brushing his thumb against one of your nipples. With a loud gasp, your back arches off of the bed, which only aids Jake in raising your t-shirt up over your breasts. 

He takes a minute to admire the sight of you panting and half-naked underneath him. It makes you feel shy, and you want to do something so that he stops looking and starts doing, but his gaze holds you in place. His pupils are blown with lust, eyes raking over your body and taking everything in. You have a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that it’s you he’s looking at with those eyes. 

His soft lips attach themselves to your nipple while his fingers continue their work on the other one. You’ve never felt this sensitive, never felt this on edge, like you might fall apart at any second even with so little simulation. Your core throbs, impatiently waiting to be tended to, but you’re already trembling so hard from Jake’s attention to your breasts that you don’t know what will happen to you once he actually touches you down there.

“You doing okay, baby?” he asks, the rasp in his voice making you want him impossibly more. You grip his hair and he looks up at you, a tender smile on his lips. You nod your head yes and he laughs. “Yeah? You want more?” You pause at his question. You do want more, but is it worth your sanity?

It takes you a second to decide that it’s worth that and more. You nod again. 

Jake seems to have sensed your hesitation. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I am. It’s just a lot.”

His expression of worry softens into a smile. “I’ll take it slow for you, love. It’s a lot for me, too.” He leans in to press soft kisses to your cheek, and some of the tension in your body diffuses. Whatever happens, Jake will be there to take care of you. “But it feels good, right?” he asks, lips moving against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“So good, Jakey,” you reply shakily.

“Good.”

You can tell that Jake really does want to take it slow - his movements are more deliberate, gentler. But eagerness, both yours and his, soon takes over, and a minute later, he’s trailing kisses down your body until he reaches your lower stomach. Your breath quickens as he hooks fingers underneath your leggings and underwear, sliding both garments down your legs and leaving you bare to him. You think the feeling of his lips on the fleshy parts of your inner thighs is what might actually do you in, make you lose your sense of reality forever - but then his tongue darts out against your clit, a barely-there touch, and your whole body flatlines. 

Your reaction eggs Jake on, who, more confident now, takes the sensitive bud in his lips and alternates between sucking and licking motions. A knot ties itself embarrassingly quickly in your stomach, a knot that tightens and tightens as Jake flattens his tongue against you, licking up your juices from your entrance to your clit; a knot that threatens to come loose when he slides a long finger inside of you. You can’t take more than thirty seconds of this.

“Jakey,” you say, voice practically a moan. Your brain is fuzzy and it takes a distressing amount of time to form a simple sentence. “Can you come here?”

“Is something wrong, baby?” he asks breathily, sliding his finger out of you and coming back up so that his face is right above yours. 

“No, just… I want you.”

Any trace of worry on Jake’s features dissipates as he cocks an eyebrow, one corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Is that so?”

This kind of boldness would usually have you rolling your eyes, but here, it only makes your core throb more violently. It’s almost humiliating how much you want this man. It’s definitely humiliating, how easy it is to swallow your pride and play into his game. “Yes, please,” you say, eyes pleading with him.

He smiles almost giddily before burying his face against the side of yours. “My baby’s so polite,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Take this off, then,” you say, grabbing the bottom hem of his t-shirt. 

“So she says please and gives orders,” he jokes, quickly obliging anyway. 

Not once in your time apart had Jake posted any sort of beach trip or pool photos, so this was the first time you saw his bare chest. God, was it one for the history books. You trace the defined lines of his muscles with a finger and wonder how he had managed to get even more perfect. He lets you marvel at him for it, clearly proud that you’re gawking so shamelessly, but your mind drifts back to more urgent matters when he presses himself into you, his clothed cock, hard and hot, brushing against your folds. “Fuck,” you sigh, bucking your hips into his to feel him over and over again.

It’s so much, but it’s not enough; Jake instantly gets your message when you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling him to you and kissing him feverishly. Your lips don’t part as he slides his boxers off, and you drink up the nectar that are his moans as you take him in your hand, pumping him a few times.

“Condom?” he asks, but you shake your head.

“I’m on the pill. And even so… I usually always use a condom, but I don’t want to now. Not with you.”

Jake closes his eyes as he takes a deep, stabilising breath. “I feel totally normal about that. Not crazy at all.”

You giggle, and he opens his eyes, a wide smile gracing his lips before he bends down to kiss you. “You ready for the night of your life?” he asks against your lips. “It’s gonna last five minutes, tops,” he says, making you laugh again. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t do anything about it. I think I could’ve cum just from eating you out.”

“That would’ve been hot.”

“Really? We’ll make it a challenge for next time, then.”

When Jake plunges into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He fills you up, slow inch by slow inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. You both need some time getting used to the feeling - Jake drops his head in the crook of your neck and lets out a sound between a grunt and a moan, something you’ve never heard from him before. You grab onto his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin as you try to tether yourself to him. You hold him so tight that he has no choice but to let his body rest on top of yours, his arms coming to circle your waist and bring you even closer. 

His movements start out halting, the pleasure so overwhelming that it makes it hard for him to move steadily. In time, he falls into a torturously slow rhythm, but it’s the perfect kind of torture, the kind that has tears brimming in your eyes. It’s so hard to take, and yet you want more. You’re brought closer to the edge with every thrust of his dick into you, especially as he picks up the pace and lifts your hips to meet his. The new angle has his tip brushing against that spot deep inside you that makes it hard to breathe. 

You can tell he’s just as close as you when he loses that steady rhythm he had found, his motions growing more desperate, harsher, quicker. Conscious of your roommates, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as your orgasm washes over you, your whole body on fire, so sensitive that the few more seconds Jake needs to come undone himself drive both your body and your mind into overstimulation. Even the feeling of him pulling out, drops of hot liquid dripping out of your entrance, is too much and makes you let out a small, tired whine. 

Jake peppers your face with kisses as he holds your waist tightly, brushing his thumb back-and-forth on your warm skin, sticky with sweat. “You did so well, baby. So good for me.” You think you might be ready for a second round if he keeps talking to you like that. “I love you so much.”

You sigh deeply, as if you were just told disconcerting news. “Okay.”

“Okay?!” he echoes, looking up at you with an outraged expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I love you too, I just- I’m not used to this yet! You can’t just tell me you love and expect me to be normal. You have to warn me first.”

“Can I just warn you now that I’m going to tell you I love you every time I get the chance?”

You sigh. “I guess.” 

“Can I tell you now?” he asks, and you hum. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jake tuts. “I highly doubt it, but whatever makes you happy.”

You hold Jake close to you, one arm around his shoulders and the other hand playing with his hair as you come down from your high. You think he might’ve fallen asleep, and you’re close to drifting off yourself when he speaks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Not just the sex, although that has been on my mind for a while now,” he says, making you laugh, “but all of this. Being together, getting to be in your arms like this, kissing you whenever I want. Calling you my girlfriend.”

“Me too, Jakey. I waited so long I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Jake chuckles. “How stupid were we not to have noticed we felt the same way?”

“Very stupid. I think we felt so sorry for ourselves that we were stuck in one-sided love, that we didn’t even realise the other was going through the exact same thing. But at least we’re now.”

“At least we’re here now.” You and Jake yawn at the exact same time, making you burst into giggles, giddy with sleep and love.

“Let’s sleep, baby,” you say.

Jake hums, burying himself deeper against your body. “Sleep well, my love. I’ll be here.”

--

After years of pining after each other, you and Jake find it a bit hard to keep your relationship to yourselves, or your hands off of each other.

At the beginning, all of your friends had been happy for you, but that quickly went away when your and Jake’s honeymoon phase never died down and the PDA just kept on going. If the glue you were stuck with previously was metaphorical, this one was pretty close to being real. Superglue kept you together, your moments together rarely spent without some sort of physical touch. Yunjin fake-gagged so often, you were afraid she might actually vomit one of these days. It took Sunghoon two weeks longer than everyone else to clock you and Jake had started dating.

This meant that in private, there was truly no holding back. Jake back-hugged you any chance he got, to the point you started to think he was more koala than human - although that’d imply he saw you as a tree. Make-out sessions were a particular favourite of yours - how could they not be when your boyfriend’s lips seemed to have been carved by God himself, soft and plump to the heavens, like they were made to be kissed. Really, you were just honouring God’s will when you kissed Jake.  

The goodbye that comes at the end of the year is not an easy one, and the month spent at home before you fly to Korea seems to never end. But you get there eventually, and as nice as it is to catch up with Jake’s parents after so long, you feign sleepiness after lunch as an excuse to get some time alone with your boyfriend. Ironically, this “time alone” is spent so intensely that you do end up falling asleep afterwards. 

You have to admit, you really did a number on your boyfriend this time - what can a girl do when she missed her boyfriend this much? Jake is still passed out when you wake up from your nap, so you slip out as discreetly as you can from his embrace and get out of bed. You head for the closet first and swipe the comfiest looking sweater of his that you find there so you can stay warm as you look around his room. A pang of melancholia hits your chest - most of the pictures and objects on his walls and shelves are parts of his life you weren’t around to witness. Friends you don’t recognize, places you’ve never heard of, phases you’d never known he’d gone through. But then you see the frame on his desk, a faded photo of the two of you at ten years of age, eating ice cream on the bench outside of your house. Milo is sitting at your feet. Jake’s family hadn’t adopted Layla yet. You realise that even if there’s whole parts of your life you didn’t get to share with each other, nothing could touch your memories, or your future.

You want to go back in time and tell fourteen-year-old you that no matter how painful it might seem at the moment, it will all be worth it for the sight of Jake Sim slowly drifting into wakefulness, patting the bed next to him, and noticing you’re missing with furrowed eyebrows. When he opens his eyes and they settle on you, a sleepy smile will grace his dazzling features, and he’ll say, “Come back to bed.”

You’ll be even more in love at twenty than at fourteen.

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. support your creators by reblogging and leaving feedback!

Wowowowow! Soo good🥹 got me cryin buy in the best way possible lol💕

when I think of love (I think of you)

genre: soulmate au, college au, fluff and angst

pairing: yang jungwon x f reader

word count: 8.9k

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

There’s a word for it, something that’s whispered behind closed doors, shunned like a bad omen you can’t quite shake. 

Glitch. A cruel twist of fate. A failed soulmate match. 

Something you’ve been since the countdown on your wrist ticked to 00:00 two long years ago and left you just as lonely as ever. Something you’ve been fighting since destiny carved itself into your skin with a dull, lifeless shade of gray. 

But fate is a funny thing. And love, as you’ve learned, is often found in the most unexpected places. 

or, 

In which fate, in all its cruel, incandescent scheming, leads straight to Yang Jungwon. 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The overhead fluorescents in this particular lecture hall always manage to leave you with a pounding headache that even a strong dose of Advil can never quite seem to mitigate. 

“And with time, these bonds only strengthen, until a point is reached in which both parties would experience immense pain were they to be separated, willingly or not.” Well, it’s either the lightbulbs or the sound of your professor’s droning. Today, his words are slightly muted where they reach your ears, as if you’re hearing them underwater. It’s information you should be taking in, or at the very least be taking note of since it’s sure to appear in course content later on, but you can’t get your mind to cooperate.

Intro to Soulmate Theory. An absolute joke of a class. The very foundation your society is built around. A nagging reminder of the deficiency that stains your left wrist. 

Unwittingly, you tug your sleeve down further. There’s no need, not really. You made sure it covered the mark fully before you left your dorm this morning. Just like every morning. But long standing habits are rarely broken, and the last thing you need now is yet another reminder of what makes you different, what makes you wrong.  

But there’s little time to ponder this particularly cruel stroke of fate before your professor is pushing forward, unconcerned with the fact that his students may be affected by his lecture on more than an academic level. 

“As per the syllabus, you’ll be completing projects with an assigned partner on a topic of your choice. I encourage you to use a wide variety of resources to reflect and encompass several points of view and ideas surrounding soulmate theory.” 

Several points of view. Yeah, right. In your experience, any arguments against the traditional soulmate model have been met with nothing short of anger and ridicule. 

Although it makes for a frustrating life, it makes for a simplistic assignment. No matter how incompetent your assigned partner, you’re sure it will be easy enough to meet up once or twice and regurgitate common sentiment on how the soulmate system is nothing short of a wondrous gift to humanity. 

Glancing at the clock one last time, you silently thank whatever cosmic forces caused your professor to wrap up class fifteen minutes early. You’ll have enough time to grab a coffee before your shift. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you slide your laptop into your bag before standing up from your seat. No matter what bullshit this particular class dragged you through, today will be a good day. You’re sure of it. 

With one final scan of your area, you head to the front door of the room without a glance back. 

In the very back corner of the lecture hall, tucked neatly out of both sight and mind, Yang Jungwon exhales a long sigh before gathering his things. 

…

“Oh, you are an absolute goddess.” 

Playful frown tugging at your lips, you ask “Why is it that you only praise me when I come bearing gifts?”

Alina takes a moment to respond, too engrossed in the matcha latte you just handed her to concern herself with your question. 

Despite her inclination to only offer compliments as payment for caffeine, she’s hands down your favorite coworker. With Alina, even the slowest of shifts have a way of passing quickly with lots of laughs to fill the silence. 

Sliding into your seat next to her, you turn on your desk computer. “Any new applications to process today?”

“Nothing yet,” Alina glances at the empty inbox to confirm her answer. “This time of year is usually fairly slow. We tend to get more applications at the beginning of the semester and around the holidays.”

“Right.” You nod. “That makes sense.” Times when people are new to campus. And times when people are lonely. 

You had been the latter when you submitted your application. Last year was your first year of university, and although the writing on your wrist had already faded to black by the time you enrolled, living on campus meant you were away from your family and friends for the first time. 

You pushed it off as long as you could. It hurt something in you, pride perhaps, to seek help from the Student Support Center over something that you’d been grieving in private for the better part of a year. 

But loneliness is what finally did it, what finally pushed you to seek support from the university for your condition. For the permanent reminder of cosmic cruelty etched into the soft skin of your left wrist. 

For the second time in the span of an hour, you find yourself tugging at your sleeve. 

You suppose it’s the same thing—injured pride, a deep sense of shame, that has you wearing long sleeves even in the summertime. It’s not like you’re unfamiliar with the failure etched into your skin. You know what you’d find if you looked. A matte gray 00:00. A reminder of what could’ve been, what should’ve been. 

You remember when there was a different number displayed there, one that got smaller and smaller with each passing second. One that glowed a bright, glossy red instead of the dull, lifeless gray it is now. 

Just like everyone else, you’d been born with red numbers on your left wrist. There was no sign then, at your birth, that you were different, that you were a glitch. 

Just like your family, just like your friends, just like your classmates, your number was normal, albeit a bit smaller than most. 

As a child, you’d reveled in it—the comparative smallness of your countdown. It wasn’t unusual for people to have to wait well into their twenties or even their thirties to find their soulmates. But a quick calculation revealed that your countdown would tick to 00:00 just after your seventeenth birthday. 

It feels stupid now, like some sort of cruel joke, that you ever thought yourself lucky. 

Because two years ago, with just seconds to go, you had been waiting in a park close to your school. It was that cosmic energy again, that divine sense of something, that told you this particular park was where your life was destined to change, where you were going to meet your fated soulmate. 

Like everyone else, your timer had run out, and he was there. Handsome and a year or two older than you, if you had to guess. A perfect stranger that you felt like you already knew. A soulmate destined only for you. 

But unlike everyone else, your completed countdown, that ever coveted 00:00, didn’t transform into a glossy, shiny deep violet that signified the successful completion of a soulmate match. 

No, instead it had turned to the same faded gray that mocks you now. 

Confused, your brow drew together as you locked eyes with the man that was supposed to be a culmination of everything clicking into place. 

At a second glance, the wrongness of it all began to sink in. The way he walked toward you with slow, reluctant steps. The way his mouth pulled tight at the corners like he wanted to prevent any words from escaping. 

The wedding ring wrapped around the finger on his left hand that you thought would belong to you. 

It was an accident, he told you. A drunken mistake between him and a girl he met at university. One he wasn’t serious about, but damage had been done nevertheless. A single night that was meant to be a blip, a passing moment in time, but turned into a child. One that the two of them decided to raise together. 

A child that had them both decide to forgo the fate written on their wrists and forge a new life of their own. 

It hurt, he told you, to see you, to know that he was causing you pain. 

But his mind was made up and you knew better than to plead with a man who had fought and forsaken destiny itself. 

It wasn’t your fault. He’d told you that day, and you’ve heard it countless times since then. From your parents. From your closest friends. From your own tear-stained reflection in your bedroom mirror. 

But blame with nowhere to go always had a way of ending up on your shoulders, and reassurances never stopped you from pondering possibilities on sleepless nights. 

What if we had met sooner? What if he never met her? What if they never had a child?

In the end, it was pointless. Fate had been written and rewritten. The stars had aligned and shifted and still remained terribly out of reach. There was nothing you could do, nothing to be done. 

But it didn’t stop the loneliness from seeping in. It was loudest during the quiet moments, but it never truly left. It didn’t matter where you were—in class, with friends, surrounded by people, or completely alone. There was always an overwhelming sense of loss, of loneliness that followed where you went. 

And when the burden of it all felt too heavy, you’d bitten the bullet and applied to your university's support program for glitches, although none of the staff dared to use that word. 

It’s where you’d met Alina. And although she had a bright red number still ticking evenly on her wrist, she’d had a friend who shared your fate. Who let the loneliness consume her instead of accepting help. 

Even if it wasn’t through firsthand experience, Alina knew the pain of failed matches intimately. After a handful of weeks, you’d found genuine friendship in her and she was the one to recommend you for a job on the support team. 

You’re grateful beyond words for her, for all of it. For the people and the friendships and the moments that remind you life is worth living, even on the hard days. 

So you’ll take her compliments with a smile, even when they come at the expense of a matcha latte from her favorite campus cafe. You’ll take the hard days and the good days and all the little moments in between, and at the end of it all, you’re confident there will always be something to smile about, even when your heart feels so heavy you’re afraid it might sink right out of your chest. 

“The matcha’s good?” You ask, even though you know the answer. And if you didn’t, it would be apparent from the fact that it’s already half gone. 

But something in you still smiles, still feels a little lighter when Alina turns to you with a grin and says, “of course.”

…

If there’s one place you still find it difficult to extend optimism towards, it’s your damn Intro to Soulmate Theory course. Although an important element of sociology and objectively relevant, it does more to remind you of your abnormality than just about anything else. 

Thankfully, your professor’s cadence is beginning to slow, a surefire signal that class is wrapping up. You glance up at the clock. Could you really be so lucky as to get out early two classes in a row?

At the front of the lecture hall, your professor peruses his notes one final time. It’s all you can do to suppress a groan when he starts speaking again, and not to dismiss you.

“Before we end for the day, as I mentioned last class, you’ll be completing your next assignment in partners. The instructions, rubric, and due date can all be found on the syllabus, and you’re welcome to email me or attend office hours with any additional questions you may have. I’ve already taken the initiative to pair you, so please listen for your name.

“Kim Sunoo and Lee Heeseung.”

As he moves through the seemingly endless list of names, you begin to tune out. Have there always been this many people in this class?

When you finally hear your name, your attention snaps back into focus. 

“... and Yang Jungwon.”

Yang Jungwon. 

It’s a name you’ve heard in passing, maybe, but he’s not someone you’re familiar with. Standing, you begin to look around the hall. You figure it might be easiest to exchange information now, but if you can’t find him, you could always look up his email on the class list later.

Ultimately, it’s him who finds you.

“___?” At the sound of your name, you turn to face him. Dark hair and eyes, you’re surprised you don’t recognize him more. As it turns out, Yang Jungwon has the kind of face that makes you want to keep looking. The kind of face you’d search a crowd for. 

“Yeah,” you affirm, somewhat breathless. “Yang Jungwon?”

“Just Jungwon is fine.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you want to go ahead and exchange information? I get my final training schedule later today, so I can message you when I have a better idea of when I’ll be able to meet up.”

“That sounds good.” Nodding, you hand over your phone for him to input his information. As he types, you watch a strand of hair fall over his eyes. “Training schedule? Are you an athlete?”

If he’s put off by your probing, he doesn’t show it. “Mhm,” he nods. “Taekwondo team.”

“That’s cool.” Accepting your phone back, you type your name into the newly created chat. “Here, I’ll send you a message so you have my information too. I work in the afternoons, but I have a pretty consistent schedule. Once you have your training times, we can figure out when we’re both free.” 

Checking the message that comes through with a ding, Jungwon nods. “Perfect.” He hikes his bag further up on his shoulder, pausing for a moment before turning his gaze towards the door that the rest of the class is heading towards. “I’ll see you around, then,” he says before turning to do the same. 

And if you let your gaze linger just a little too long on his retreating back, you’ll be grateful that no one is paying you enough attention to notice.

…

Dinner cleaned up, skincare completed, and the events from the day blurring into a sleepy haze is when his first message reaches you. 

9:36pm Yang Jungwon I got my final training schedule. Looks like I should be free Tuesday and Thursday afternoons after 4 if that works for you?

Double checking your work schedule, you type a reply. 

9:38pm You I work on Tuesdays until 6 but I can do Thursday at 4. 

9:39pm Yang Jungwon Let’s plan on Thursday then 👍 Meet you at the library? I’ll reserve a study room on the first floor. 

9:40pm You Sounds good, see you then!

With the semester well underway, Thursday is quick to roll around. A handful of minutes before four finds you wandering through the first floor of the library, working to locate the study room Jungwon texted you the number of earlier. 

After a minute of searching, you find it, half surprised that he’s arrived even earlier than you. 

Early and straight from practice, you assume, if the still drying strands of hair that indicate a recent shower are anything to go by. 

“Good call on the study room,” you add after your initial greetings. “I always forget how packed the library is once the semester really gets going.” 

“Right?” Jungwon agrees. “I have a friend who swore by them last year, and now I’ll never go back.”

“Sharing the study room secret?” You grin. “That’s a true friend right there.” 

“Yeah,” something softens in Jungwon’s gaze, a distinct fondness in his eyes that tells you he’s thinking of more than just study rooms. “He is.” 

“So,” you continue, not wanting to waste time getting started. “I glanced over the instructions on the syllabus, and it seems pretty straightforward.” Switching to the open tab with the syllabus, you confirm. “Looks like we just need to pick a topic in soulmate theory with some kind of recent research developments and explain why the new research is significant and how it has changed, challenged, or confirmed existing theory.” 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you force yourself into the familiar state of detachment you always revert to when discussing this particular topic. 

“I don’t know if you have a topic in mind already,” you shrug. “I’m pretty much open to anything.”

He pauses for a moment before answering. “What about—” Dropping his thought into silence, Jungwon seems to reconsider. “Never mind.”

“Is there something you’re interested in?” 

“No.” Jungwon shakes his head. “I doubt there would be any recent research, anyway.”

“Okay.” Part of you wants to push further, but you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. “I just looked up some recent research topics, and it looks like there’s been some more development in theory related to countdown colors and location-based soulmate matches.” Ignoring the way the gray on your wrist suddenly seems like the most prominent thing in the room, you mold your voice into an even tone. “Do either of those sound interesting to you?”

He considers for a moment. “Maybe location-based matches?”

Releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, you nod. “That sounds good to me.” Turning back to your computer, you add, “Let’s both find a few publications to reference and then we can take notes on them before we meet up next week. The final paper is due in four weeks, so we can outline next week and then start the actual writing.”

“Yeah,” Jungwon agrees, “that works for me.”

In the minutes that follow, a silence settles around you. It’s not horribly awkward, but part of you is still itching to fill it with something. 

Finally, you bite the bullet. “Would it be okay with you if I put some music on? Just something instrumental.”

“Sure,” Jungwon nods. 

Grateful, you open your study playlist and begin it on shuffle. The first notes play out, an easy piano melody that cuts through some of the stagnance. 

A handful of songs and journal articles later, Jungwon breaks the rhythm. “Clair de Lune.” A small smile turns the corners of his lips up. “This is on my study playlist too.”

You offer a small smile in return. “You like this song?”

“Yeah.” He nods. The quiet melody sings through the air, floats around tentative glances, delicate breaths. Lands lightly on two sets of shoulders. “You know, you’re better than me. I always end up turning on my regular playlist and then singing along to the songs instead of actually working on anything.”

That earns him a full blown smile. “Believe me, I do that more than I probably should, too.”

A shared grin later, the two of you are back to your own laptop screens. 

Despite the fact that you don’t switch your playlist, you find yourself distracted for the rest of the session. Not by the music, but by the fact that it’s all too easy to picture Jungwon in the comfort of his dorm, headphones on as he sings along with whatever’s playing in his ears, forgotten assignments scattered across the desk in front of him. 

…

Despite your newfound fondness of your project partner, you have a feeling that Intro to Soulmate Theory will continue to be your most dreaded class until the end of the semester releases you from its twice-a-week morning monotony. 

Life seems determined to prove you wrong, though, because just as the professor is settling into his position behind the podium, a body slides into the usually empty seat on your left. 

Startled, you glance up. 

“Jungwon?”

“Hey,” he smiles. “I’m glad I made it on time. I thought for sure I’d be late.” 

He finishes settling into his new seat before sliding something onto your desk. “I brought this for you, by the way.”

Eyes catching on the iced coffee in front of you, you try to do anything but balk. 

“I noticed you have one sometimes in this class. I wasn’t sure what your order was, so I had to guess based on color. And I mean, light brown can be just about anything with iced coffee, so I hope you like it.”

“I—thank you.” The fondness in you swells. For just a moment, it feels like something bigger, something more. Something you haven’t felt since… Since an afternoon you’ve worked hard on forgetting for a long time. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Jungwon shrugs.”I was stopping by the cafe anyway.” He gestures to the coffee on his desk. “Besides, it’s what a partner’s for.” 

“Well thank you,” you repeat. “I—” Whatever you’re about to say is interrupted by the beginning of the lecture. 

You’re not sure if it’s the caffeine or the boy at your side, but something has today’s lecture flying by. You’re not sure if you’ve even blinked once before the professor is dismissing you for the day and you leave Jungwon with an unfamiliar lightness in your heart and a promise to see each other on Thursday.

…

Thursday afternoon finds the pair of you back in the same study room, laptops open and project outline halfway formed. 

This time, the drinks on the table in front of you are courtesy of your wallet. It’s too soon to say for sure, but you have the feeling a tradition of sorts may be blooming. 

You can’t say that you mind. It’s nice to have something to look forward to, to have someone to share it with. It doesn’t matter if it’s small, if it’s nothing but an unexpected coffee to make a study session pass just a bit faster. It feels nice. It feels… special. 

The same instrumental study playlist filtering through your laptop speaker, you both share a small smile when Clair de Lune begins to play. 

It’s pleasant, you realize. A project that you were dreading has become something you look forward to, and you’re sure it’s because of him. 

Despite the fact that you’re poring over research that would sting like a slap in the face under any other circumstance, Jungwon’s presence soothes the ache, keeps the reminders of a fate lost to time and circumstances at bay just by occupying the seat next to you. 

You’re not sure what it is, not sure why it seems to reach you somewhere that’s remained untouched for years, but the more time you spend with him, the more you start to like it. 

That odd sensation that almost feels like butterflies in your stomach. The stilted rhythm of a heartbeat that almost feels like it’s running a little faster. That warmth that sits high on your cheekbones almost like a flustered blush whenever he catches your eye for a little too long. 

A million little almosts. A million little possibilities. A million little somethings you thought ended with the dead countdown on your wrist two years ago. 

You don’t let yourself voice these thoughts, don’t even let your mind linger on the connection for too long. 

If it does, it will twist and tarnish whatever is taking flight into something ugly, something rotten. Will convince you that your happiness is borrowed, that it will only come back in the form of future misery. 

That the semester will end, the class will wrap up, the project will be submitted. 

Yang Jungwon will be nothing but a moment in time. A blip on a radar. Time will continue on with its incessant march and the countdown on your wrist will remain unchanged. 

That it doesn’t matter how many almosts the two of you share. Your fate was written in the stars and unraveled by a man who didn’t want you. 

You’re a failure. A glitch. 

Pretty words and sideways glances and unexpected gestures of kindness won’t change that. 

Yang Jungwon will move on from this project, from this class, from you. 

His countdown will keep ticking if it hasn’t turned to a shiny violet yet, and you will be nothing but a forgotten memory. 

You’re not sure why it’s so upsetting in this moment, this series of truths that have been both apparent and unavoidable since you first made eye contact with Jungwon. But something about the way they swirl in your mind now has you desperate for air, for space. 

You try to offer some halfhearted excuse about stepping out for a moment, and you barely note the concern that flickers across Jungwon’s features in your panic induced stupor. 

You hear your name. Hear it followed by the gentle question, “Are you okay?” 

But it’s muffled. It’s all wrong. 

In your haste to escape, you knock over the gift, your gesture of goodwill in the form of the coffee you brought Jungwon. 

You watch, horrified, as it seems to fall in slow motion, hot, dark liquid spilling over the table. 

“It’s okay,” you think you hear him say. But it’s not. It’s not. 

He reaches for his bag, pulling out a handful of napkins. Instinctively, he rolls up his sleeves to wipe up the excess liquid. 

And that’s when you notice it. The inky 00:00 on the inside of his left wrist. 

It’s not violet. It’s not shiny. It’s a dull, muted, lifeless gray. 

A reflection, a twin, a copy of your own. 

His eyes fall to the same spot as your own, and he’s pulling his sleeve down just as quickly as he rolled it up. But it’s too late. You’ve already seen. 

Shared pain. Shared shame. 

It grounds you. Reaching out a hand, you take a handful of napkins off the top of the pile. 

“Here,” you offer, voice unbearably small. “I can help.” Hollow words and a hollow sentiment. As luck would have it, spilled coffee is the least of your shared concerns. 

Nonetheless, the two of you wipe up the remainder of the spill in silence, a gentle piano melody weaving its way around the silence, wrapping itself around both of your wrists, threading an invisible string between two lost souls, two shared fates. 

“It didn’t get on your computer, did it?”

“No,” Jungwon shakes his head, reaching out his hand to grab the soiled napkins from you before discarding them in the trash can. “Just the table.”

“That’s good.” A moment passes. Two. “I’m sorry.” You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for, what you should be apologizing for, but you take the easy way out. “I should have paid better attention to where your cup was. You can finish mine, if you want.”

“It’s okay.” Running a hand through his hair, he adds, “I usually only drink it hot.”

“I can get you a new one—”

“Really, it’s okay.”

And it is. You can tell that he’s not upset, not about the coffee. But the tension is still there. 

You saw it. You have the sinking suspicion that he knows you saw it. 

And you’re at a crossroads. You can act as if nothing happened, pretend that you saw nothing and return to your half finished project outline. 

But you’ve had friends and family tiptoe around you, and it never left you feeling anything but more empty, more unwanted, more of an anomaly. 

You don’t want Jungwon to feel those things. So you try your best, in a steady voice, hiding the shake in your hands underneath the cover of the table. 

“You know,” you nod towards his arm, taking care to keep any signs of judgment clear from your voice. “I actually work at the Student Support Center. I know it’s rare, but there’s a whole department dedicated to helping people that… struggle with soulm—”

“I think we should just work on the project.” Jungwon is tight lipped where he avoids your gaze. The way he tugs on his sleeves has you wanting to press matters further, to push just a little further until he knows that he has you on his side, but you’ll respect his wishes. The last thing you want is to increase his discomfort, and you have the feeling you’ve already done just that. 

“Okay, yeah.” You take a deep inhale. “I overstepped. I’m sor—”

But Jungwon just shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” 

…

But you do. 

You worry about it when you head home for the evening, accidentally leaving the oven on long after your dinner is finished cooking. 

You worry about it as you try to fall asleep, unsettled by thoughts of Jungwon suffering the same pain, the same shame you’ve been hiding the last two years. 

You worry about it when you arrive at class the next day, two coffees in hand. 

Your worry turns to dread when Jungwon never comes, coffee going cold where it sits untouched on your desk.

You worry when you arrive at work, the handful of messages you’ve sent still unanswered no matter how many times you check your phone. 

10:47am You Hi Jungwon, sorry if this is annoying but you weren’t in class today and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay

10:58am You I’m really sorry about the other day at the library. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

1:32pm You Hey let me know when you see this. I just really want to make sure you’re okay. 

You’ve typed and deleted a million more, unsure of how to best approach the situation. You don’t even know if he considers you friends, really. 

Your shift passes in a blur until Alina asks if you’d be up to pull a double, since someone on the evening shift called out sick. 

Usually you’d be hesitant, but right now you’re desperate for any sort of distraction and agreeing comes easy. 

But you’ve forgotten one key thing. In your old schedule, evening shifts were always your favorites. Primarily because they’re significantly  slower than the rest. Most students preferred to schedule their visits during the day, which left you with plenty of time to catch up on assignments between tasks. 

It’s an especially slow night tonight, the near torrential downpour tearing through the campus an added deterrent to anyone wanting to venture outdoors. Unfortunately, this only leaves you with more time to ruminate over Jungwon, whose name has yet to light up your phone screen. 

You wish you knew more about him. Wish you knew who his friends were so you could reach out to one of them to check in on him. 

You’re halfway convinced you should just go through everyone on your class list and send emails until someone knows something when the sound of a bell chimes out, signaling the opening of the center’s front door. Peering over your computer, you squint, trying to make out the person who’s just entered. 

As they draw nearer, a familiar form begins to solidify. 

“Jungwon?” You brow furrows in confusion as you stand up out of your seat. A million emotions flicker through your mind. Annoyance that he’s been avoiding you and your messages. Confusion as to why he’s here. Above it all, relief that he seems to be okay.

 But then you take him in fully. 

He’s absolutely soaked, down to the bone, rain matted hair falling over his eyes while his clothes cling a little closer to his frame with the added weight of precipitation. There’s a frantic look in his eye, a panic that you recognize all too well. 

“Jungwon,” you repeat, letting your strides eat up the group as you close the distance that still separates you. He’s shaking, you realize, once your hands reach up to smooth some of the hair away from his eyes. Trembling like a leaf and dripping onto the floor. He still can’t match your gaze, still has yet to breathe a single word to you. 

“You’re shaking.” You can’t help but point out the obvious. With determined movements, you reach for his hand, finding no resistance as you envelop it in your own. Tugging slightly, you pull him into a nearby room, stopping only to grab a warm blanket and to begin brewing a warm cup of tea. After a moment, you wordlessly offer him both. 

A million questions bubble in your throat. You breathe life into none of them. Silence settles around the both of you. Not entirely unpleasant, but brimming with something heavy.

“I just,” he finally breathes and you feel your heart clench in your chest. Seize like his pain is your own. “I couldn’t be alone.” There’s a tremble in his breath when he adds, “Not tonight.”

“You’re not.” You shake your head, drawing closer as you take a seat to his right. “I promise you. You’re not alone.” 

And you won’t let him be. Not after the time for your shift to end comes and goes. Not when the sun starts to peek its head over the horizon, painting the sky in the pastel watercolors of a new day. 

You don’t move until he does. Until he asks in a small voice if you’ll meet him in an hour at the coffee shop you now both frequent. 

Until you honor his request with a nod and a promise to see him again soon. 

…

The coffee shop is mostly empty this early in the morning. The corner table the two of you occupy feels private, secluded. A place fitting for revelations. 

Jungwon begins all at once, coffee warm between his hands. 

His match was supposed to be in a park, too. 

It’s interesting—the research you’ve been reading supports claims that soulmate bonds tend to prefer open air, areas surrounded by nature. 

Jungwon’s fate was set in stone later than yours, only a year ago today. Shared fate. Shared pain. Shared shame. 

A park, his favorite one. A place he went often, a place he loved. He hasn’t been back since. 

Not when that eerie, cosmic, magnetic pull of destiny tugged at him until he was sitting on a bench, next to the rose garden in full bloom. 

Not when his breath stopped the second she arrived, not when he knew, he knew it was her. His destiny. His soulmate. 

Not when he stood up to greet her, to meet his future with a wide smile and open arms just as the numbers on his wrist drew closer and closer to zero. 

Not when he watched, with a distinct sort of dread building in the pit of his stomach, as someone on the opposite side of the garden emerged. Not when time ticked on, revealing with every steady second that this stranger had the same intentions, the same plan, the same countdown, the same fate. 

Not when he watched this stranger meet her first. 

Not when he watched in abject horror as smiles lit up both of their faces. 

Not when he looked down at his own wrist, vision blurred through the onset of tears, as the bright, ruby red faded to gray instead of the violet it was meant to be. 

Not when he was a failure, a miscalculation, an unfortunate needle in a haystack of perfection, of success stories. A glitch. 

Not when he watched the love of his life fall into the arms of another man and leave him. Alone. Lonely. Forgotten. 

Even now, in the seat across from yours, you can see the toll it takes on him. 

So you reach for comfort in the only way you know how, in the unique twist of fate that led two unlucky circumstances to cross unlikely paths. 

Laying your left arm on the table, you pull the end of your sleeve up. 

It’s not a lot. But for now, it’s enough. 

…

There’s an odd sort of balance, a sense of comfort that comes with understanding and being understood. It’s not like before, but you and Jungwon fall into a new kind of easy rhythm. One that both understands the most intimate pain and shame of the other while still keeping them at an arm’s distance. 

It’s not solace. But it’s something. 

You’re off tiptoes and on solid ground. And when you meet Jungwon for your next Thursday study session, there’s a new kind of fire in his eyes. 

“I think we should switch our project topic.”

It takes a concentrated effort not to spit out the drink of water you just took. “What?” At this point, your outline is finished and you’re well into writing your report. The thought of redoing all that work with a week and a half to go is nearly unbearable. “Why?”

He doesn’t falter. “I think we should do our project on glitches.”

You recoil as if you’ve been slapped. 

Glitch. It’s a word people tiptoe around, whisper behind closed doors. Not meant for respectable society and certainly not in a university research paper. 

You don’t even need a second to consider. “No.”

“What?” It’s Jungwon’s turn to look surprised. “Why? I mean, we’re both—”

“I said no.” The shock on his face has you supplementing. “Look, I’m just not comfortable with it. Besides, we’ve done so much work on this topic already. It doesn’t make sense to switch.”

Only a fraction of what you’ve said seems to resonate. “Not… comfortable,” he echoes, twisting the words like they’re indecipherable. 

He doesn’t continue, but you can sense the urge to press further in the tense set of his shoulders. It’s a sensitive subject made even more so by the way he tiptoes around it.

“I can tell you have something else to say.” Annoyance creeps in, like an old friend, like a dangerous reminder. 

“It’s nothing.” Jungwon shakes his head. “I guess I just don’t…” He trails off for a moment. “How can you not be comfortable? I mean, you’re a glitch like me. Aren’t you curious at all? About why we glitched? If there’s anything we can do to fix it?”

And there it is. The lingering fear you’ve been working for two years to overcome. The deep seated insecurity that it’s your fault. That something is fundamentally wrong with you. “Fix me, you mean.”

“I mean, I guess you could look at it that way, but I’m more curious about what kind of solutions there are. I did some research the other day, actually, and there’s this one scholar who thinks that all glitches happen for a reason, that you can still meet your soulmate and get your countdown to turn violet if—”

“Stop!” Your voice is too loud for the small room. “Please,” it’s a whisper now, but somehow just as poignant. “Just stop.”

The crease doesn’t leave his brow. He still doesn’t get it, and he tells you as much. “I don’t understand why you’re so against it. I mean, we finally have a chance to look into why we gli—”

“I said, stop.”

Jungwon looks as if you’ve slapped him. Dumped ice cold water over his head and left him out to dry. There’s an accusation in his words when he says, “I thought you would understand.” And you do. You know how flowers wither when they go without water. You know how love blossoms and blooms and dies all within the span of a single breath. You know what it feels like to have a constant reminder of your most intimate pain seared into your skin, your soul. 

He won’t match your eye. Just aims for the heart instead. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who understands. Who knows what it’s like. To lose the only thing in life that really matters.” Jungwon’s voice is small, but it’s teeming with frustration, with anger. There’s an unmistakable fury in his eyes when he finally lets his gaze fall on yours. But where he expects to find an apology, or perhaps some sort of agreement, he is met only with a fury to rival his own. 

“Fuck you.” It’s barely decipherable under your breath, but he catches it, even if just barely. 

“What?”

“I said fuck you, Jungwon. How dare you. You think you’re the only one that’s ever been hurt, that you’re the only person that this stupid fucking system screwed over?” And now your anger is rising, ebbing and flowing like waves against a shore, weathering over all the sharp pieces and jagged edges that time hasn’t yet managed to erode. Spilling over onto the table like his forgotten coffee from weeks ago.

“Why do you think I work at the support center? Why do you think you’ve never seen me in a short sleeve shirt?”

You’re angry and you’re hurting and you understand his pain. Feel it reflected in your own, under your skin like an itch you can’t scratch, an ache you can’t get rid of. You don’t know why he wouldn’t just listen to you. 

“At least you get to wonder what might have happened.” You don’t mean to do it, to throw his hurt back in his face. To compare pain, to stack your scars against each other and measure them like there’s a winner and a loser in this game. “I met my soulmate. I met him and talked to him and fell in love with him and he still didn’t want me. It doesn’t matter what some scholar says. You can’t fucking fix that.”

You’re halfway to the door before you can find it in yourself to add, “You’re hurting and you’re lonely and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t deserve that pain and you never will. But I refuse to do this again, to spend the rest of my life thinking there’s something wrong with me, that it’s my fault, that I can fix myself if I just try hard enough. My match glitched. I’m a glitch. But I refuse to let that be the only thing I am.”

The door shuts behind you too loud. Your footsteps feel too heavy as they eat up the ground between you and the library entrance. The air feels too cold as you walk back to your dorm. 

The silence is too loud as you sit alone in it. 

And the mark on your wrist is too gray no matter how you look at it. 

…

Jungwon is antsy. Even with the space of a day between him and your argument, he’s brimming with a sort of uncontained energy that will only spell trouble if he doesn’t find a way to clear his head. He needs to talk, needs to process, but he’s not sure who to go to, who to talk to. 

It’s then that he comes to the startling realization that under any other circumstance, the person he’d want to reach out to, to spill his hearts and guts out to, is you. 

It’s been weeks, a handful of days, a smattering of hours, since you became a name in his mind. A person with an identity outside of the pretty girl that sits in the sixth row of the lecture hall, and yet. 

And yet. 

He’s suddenly overcome with the urge to reach for his phone, to send a message, make a phone call that would land home. But that’s where his better judgment catches up. 

Because he’s not sure what he’d say. An apology is in order, surely. He still sees the way pain etched itself into your features, the way your shoulders caved in at his suggestion for a topic change. 

He’s not sure if it’s something that can be remedied with words, but he is certain he never wants to see that look on your face again. 

An apology it is, then. But for what? And why?

If he’s honest with himself, he still doesn’t understand. 

So he lets his confusion carry him to the only place he thinks he might find an answer. 

The girl smiles, a generic greeting falling from her lips before she looks up at the sound of the bell over the door ringing, signaling a visitor. 

Alina, it must be, if your descriptions are anything to go by. Another person that Jungwon’s become familiar with in the past few weeks, albeit only through secondhand accounts. 

And you must have done the same for him, because she’s quick to make the shock that flickers over her features with something careful, guarded. 

“Hi,” she says then, standing from her seat. “I’m Alina.” She looks him over one more time, something akin to a sigh escaping. “You must be Jungwon.”

Alina, as it turns out, is surprisingly easy to talk to. He understands why you like her so much. 

In a matter of minutes, an account of your last library session has been reconstructed, laid bare in front of eyes that know you best. 

Alina is silent for a moment, turning over arguments from an invisible debate in her mind. Finally, she says, “It’s not my story to tell.” He figured as much. “But I think she would, if you asked.”

Jungwon nods. It’s permission. From an indirect source maybe, but hope flutters through his chest all the same. 

There’s a pause before she speaks again. “What I can say is that she’s done a lot of work to move on. To find meaning in her life outside of the number on her wrist. To stop feeling… incomplete, like a problem to be solved.”

And I threw those fears back in her face. 

The despair must play out on his features, because Alina is gentle when she says, “I won’t pretend to know what it’s like, but I do know how it feels to grieve for what could have been. It’s easier sometimes, I think, to let that consume you. To spend your life trying to get as close to that lost future as you can, even though you know it will never be quite right. Even though you know you’re chasing ghosts.”

Alina folds her hands across her lap, lacing her fingers together. 

“She made the decision to let those ghosts rest, to let that part of her life go. To find something else worth living for instead. For the small moments, maybe. For joy, for love. All those things that she still gets to feel.” That you still get to feel. Alina doesn’t say it, but Jungwon hears it all the same. “Those things that nothing, not even fate, gets to take away.”

Jungwon glances at his wrist. It’s covered, but he can feel the weight of it, of the gray numbers that he knows, deep down, will never fade. Will never change. 

And for the first time in a long time, they don’t feel so heavy. 

“I… Thank you.” For telling him. For helping you. For being here. “For all of it.”

“Of course.” Alina smiles. Lets her fingers fall to her sides as she stands, brushing invisible dust off of her lap. “Joy is even better when it’s shared, no?”

Joy is even better when it’s shared. 

For the first time in a long time, Jungwon smiles. A real smile, a face-splitting, uncontrollably wide smile. One that reaches all the way to his eyes. 

It’s still there when he’s walking back to his dorm, when he sits down at his desk, when he turns on the last playlist he was listening to earlier just for something to fill the silence. 

After a handful of moments, a familiar melody lilts through his speaker. 

Clair de Lune. 

Looking at the computer in front of him, he thinks fate just might be a tangible thing. 

He feels it in his throat first and then the base of his nose. That telltale sting that comes at the first sign of tears. 

He lets it. Lets them fall. Hard, long sobs that wrack his body and leave him gasping for air. Sorrow and grief and anger and joy all tangled together in one. 

Because Jungwon is done mourning himself, the ghost of a life that has haunted him for the last year. The weight of possibilities that time cannot undo, that sheer will alone cannot change. 

Joy is even better when it’s shared. 

And he thinks he’ll start with himself. 

…

The unexpected knock on your front door comes just too late at night for you to feel entirely comfortable opening it on your own. Footsteps padding as silently as possible towards the entrance, you run through the short list of people you think could possibly be at your dorm at this hour and come up blank. 

Against your better judgment, you undo the latch, opening the door slowly like that will somehow deter any unwanted visitors. 

The sliver of space reveals not a threat, but someone that has your brow pulling downwards, relief quickly replaced by confusion. 

“Jungwon? How did you—”

But explanations are not at the top of his priority list. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, releases all at once. “I don’t…” a pained expression crosses his features. “I’m not good with words, and I don’t know what the best thing to say is, but I’m sorry. I never should have said those things about you, about us. I—we’re not glitches.” He pauses, frowning. “I mean, we are, but that’s okay. We’re okay. There’s nothing to fix, and I’m sorry that I made it sound like I think otherwise. I…” He trails off again, swallowing a lump in his throat. “You have to know that I think the world of you. I would never, never want to say or do something that makes you—oof.”

His words die with the sudden impact of your head on his chest, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders. Shock renders him immobile for just a moment before he’s melting into your touch, returning your embrace with one of his own as his arms twine around your back. 

It’s all there, wrapped up in this moment. A solid foundation. A warm place to land. Things that futures can be built upon. Things that can breathe life into possibilities, into almosts. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, and it’s lost somewhere against the skin of his neck. 

“For what?”

“For being here.”

You mean it. He knows it. 

“It’s the only place I wanted to be.”

He means it. You know it. 

…

“Where are you taking me?”

“You know, the more you keep asking that question, the less inclined I am to answer.”

“We’ve been walking for thirty minutes,” you argue. “Don’t I deserve some kind of explanation?”

“That’s what the coffee was for.” Jungwon grins, one of those real ones that lights up his eyes. One that has you returning a smile of your own, despite your complaints. “To distract you through the physical labor.”

“Well, we can’t all be on the taekwondo team.”

Jungwon just rolls his eyes. “We’re almost there. I promise.”

And despite it all, you believe him. Because it’s been months since you turned in your project, since your class ended, and he’s still here. Still a permanent fixture in your life. Still responsible for so many moments you look forwards to, so many moments you look back upon fondly. 

Because despite the gray numbers on your wrists, you’re both dressed for the weather. Welcoming summer heat with short sleeves and smiles to match. 

Because there’s no one else you’d walk thirty minutes towards an undisclosed location for. 

Because there’s no one else that understands you the way he does, gray soulmate marks aside. Because to him, you’re just you. A person capable of joy and anger and grief and love and all of the beautiful, wonderful, messy things that come with being a human. Not something to fix, not a person to mend. 

Because you think you might love him for it. 

Because you know you do. 

And when you finally arrive at an oasis of a park ten minutes later, sprawled on a picnic blanket overlooking a pond, you’ll turn to him and whisper some nonsense about recent studies showing that soulmates often find each other surrounded by nature. 

He’ll roll his eyes, brush a strand of hair off your forehead while he tells you that he doesn’t care, that it doesn’t matter, that it’s all a bunch of nonsense anyway. 

And it will feel like coming home, like resting after a long day, like basking in the first rays of sunshine as winter finally spreads its wings into a glorious spring when he intertwines his fingers with yours and tells you that he thinks you’re beautiful. 

Fate is a funny thing, you’ll think to yourself as his breath tickles your neck, sends shivers down the length of your spine. And no matter how many nights we’ve spent berating it, resenting it, cursing it, I’ll always be grateful that it has led to this. Or maybe we led it, grabbed fate by the collar and forced it to bend to our whims like the masters of destiny we are.  

Whatever it may be, I’m glad it brought me here. 

To joy. To love. 

And most of all, to you. 

Loving this mini series with the maknae line!

charms and chasers. | miniseries

PAIRING ▸ enhypen maknae line x reader

GENRE ▸ hogwarts! au, halloween special, romance, fluff, angst, humor

SUMMARY ▸ another year at hogwarts, another year of chaos. that also means another chance at love for the three boys. will they be able to share their hearts or will they end up spending the end-of-year feast alone?

AKA another (not so) typical enhypen hogwarts themed au…

NOTES ▸ oh wow what a surprise i have another miniseries 😭this is a thanks for 400 followers 🥳🥳but unfortunately i only had time to write for enhypen’s maknae line so that’s why this is a halloween special miniseries!!

status ▸ completed (31.10.22)

misfit.

PAIRING ▸ hufflepuff! sunoo x slytherin! reader

GENRE ▸ hogwarts! au, s2ls, romance, angst, fluff, humor

SUMMARY ▸ you swear your new seatmate in potions gets on your last nerve. everything about him just irks you. you swear kim sunoo will be the death of you, whether you like it or not (and maybe you do). 

AKA all’s fair in love and war. 

confundo.

closer.

PAIRING ▸ ravenclaw! jungwon x ravenclaw! reader

GENRE ▸ hogwarts! au, fake dating! au, f2ls, romance, angst, fluff, humor

SUMMARY ▸ your house’s prefect, yang jungwon, is the textbook definition of a ravenclaw. as a fellow housemate and friend, you’re certainly willing to help him out when he needs it. but when jungwon asks you to be his date for the yule ball, you don’t expect the trouble that follows.

AKA you and jungwon are the definition of dumb and dumber. 

alohomora.

hype boy.

PAIRING ▸ slytherin! niki x gryffindor! reader

GENRE ▸ hogwarts! au, rivalry! au, e2ls, romance, angst, fluff, humor

SUMMARY ▸ you and niki supposedly hate each other’s guts, everyone knows. slytherin vs. gryffindor, green vs. red, no one can break you two apart- except when a night on the quidditch field may prove otherwise.

AKA (un)fortunately for you, niki is indeed your hype boy. 

legilimens.

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @lov3niki @heesterical @coffeewon @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount

send an ask/dm to be added to the main/series taglist!