I’ve been thinking about this image in my mind for a while and decided to draw it to purge it

OKAY SIT DOWN SHUT UP, WE’RE GONNA TALK COLORS

THIS IS SAPPHIRE

THIS IS TEAL

THIS IS PERIWINKLE

THIS IS AZURE

 AND THIS IS TURQUOISE

WONDER WHY THOSE ALL DON’T LOOK LIKE THE SAME COLOR? BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT 

OTHER THAN BEING PART OF THE SAME FAMILY OF BLUES, THEY ARE NOT ALL THE SAME FUCKING COLOR! WHY WOULD THEY ALL BE THE SAME FUCKING COLOR! DO YOU THINK WE JUST NAME NEW COLORS FOR KICKS!?!?!?

WHEN DESCRIBING A CHARACTER’S GOD FORSAKEN EYE COLOR, PICK ONE YA GODDAMN HIPPIE

As someone who is colourblind this post is fucking hilarious because they are in fact all the same fucking colour

things heating up in the fuckin uuhhhhhhhhh BLUE fandom 

So uh….. fun fact about turquoise

They come in varying degrees of blue and green.

THIS IS TUMBLR

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

I made a documentary! It's 1 hour and 22 minutes long.

It's not just about The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals: Reprised, but also about what it means to return to something you made, older, wiser, with more perspective and experience than you had the first time around.

i wanted to try to capture what makes working with this group so special, the magic that happens when friends get together to make something. Plus I got to include a bunch of fun footage from the understudy performances.

if you rent it / watch it, i really hope you enjoy the proshot, but I also hope the documentary makes you feel something too!

RENT IT HERE: https://starkid.vhx.tv/products/tgwdlm-2025-pro-shot-bonus-features

Harvey / (Cringefail) Farmer pt. 151

Uhh at least they didn’t die..?

<- previous | next →

Harvey / (Cringefail) Farmer pt. 147

LET'S GET THIS STARTED FINALLY

<- previous | next →

5-STAR DICK, 5-STAR DICKHEAD PT3 ׅ ⸝⸝ ۫ ׅ a sim jaeyun oneshot

« Maybe I'm too busy being yours to ‎ fall for somebody new »

⋮. 심재윤. ⋮ 6.3k ⋮. ⋆ fuckboy jake ⋆ strong language, enemies-to-lovers vibes, emotional tension, jealousy, jake redeeming himself?, dom jake, degradation , rough sex, fingering, oral, penetrative sex, squirting, overstim, cum eating, past sexual experience referenced, party setting, alcohol mention

part 1 ┃ part 2 ┃ part 3 ┃ part 4 — please read previous parts!

Three days.

Three fucking days and the message was still sitting there.

One word. Lowercase. No punctuation.

Like he’d typed it with one thumb without even looking at his phone, like it had cost him nothing, like you hadn’t spent the better part of seventy two hours picking it up and putting it back down again like it was something that could burn you.

hey

5-STAR DICK, 5-STAR DICKHEAD ׅ ⸝⸝ ۫ ׅ a sim jaeyun oneshot

« Man, fuck your pride ‎ Just take it on back, boy »

⋮. 심재윤. ⋮ 2.2k ⋮. ⋆ fuckboy jake ⋆ explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, fingering, doggy, squirting, overstim, spit kink, degration/praise, alcohol incidence, party scene, emotional cruelty, humiliation?, strong language

part 1 ┃ part 2 ┃ part 3 ┃ part 4

You had never been a party person.

Not really.

Your nights were usually spent curled up with a book or bingeing shows while your roommate Sunoo tried to bribe you out of your cave with promises of “epic vibes” and “cute guys.”

5-STAR DICK, 5-STAR DICKHEAD PT2 ׅ ⸝⸝ ۫ ׅ a sim jaeyun oneshot

« I know I’m not supposed to ‎ but I think I like you »

⋮. 심재윤. ⋮ 2.1k ⋮. ⋆ fuckboy jake ⋆ strong language, alcohol consumption, sexual references, suggestive content, mentions of prior sexual encounter, brief sexual gesture, jake sim being a menace to society

part 1 ┃ part 2 ┃ part 3 ┃ part 4 — please read part 1 before reading part 2!

Two weeks.

Fourteen days.

Three hundred and thirty six hours — not that you were counting, because you absolutely were not counting — and yet somehow, somehow, Jake Sim still lived rent free in your head like he owned the place and hadn’t even bothered to furnish it.

It was annoying. He was annoying. The whole thing was annoying.

⧼ʟɪᴋᴇ ʀᴀʙʙɪᴛꜱ⧽ ─── 양정원

going from innocent love making to nasty fucking, like rabbits in heat. requested by anon :)

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: shyinnocent!jungwon x shyinnocent!femreader to freaky!jungwon and freaky!reader

boyfriend!jungwon who has a reputation of being a sweetheart. big eyes and a smile that holds the power to melt the coldest glaciers. he couldn't stop blushing when he confessed his feelings to you, hands shaking while holding out the carefully picked out bouquet. even after you two got together you could feel the slight tremble of your interlinked fingers.

boyfriend!jungwon wanted to be your first time to be in missionary to see your beautiful face and make sure you're well the entire time

boyfriend!jungwon who goes on a reddit deep dive with you after you tried the #basics

It's not just to have a "do over" that doesn't involve the original cast, it's to cut them out of the royalties. Literally the entire point is to make sure all the money made by Harry Potter goes to transphobes or people willing to work with transphobes.

If you watch it, you are supporting bigotry, hate, and oppression. That's just objective reality. All for a story that you probably have already seen in movie and book form.

#the last point is especially true since the old cast receives royalties for anything with their likeness on it#meaning the original trio still gets money for every mug with their 14 year old faces on it#if they stop making those and replace them with the new cast which they will the old cast gets cut off completely#which is again exactly what rowling wants because she cannot stand those 'ungrateful brats' as she would likely put it#and as she has last say in anything that gets made in harry potter paraphernalia this might also explain the decrease in faces on products

via @discipleofkleio

I hate Rowling so much.

Likewise, the new all-star audio books featuring people like Keira Knightley, Riz Ahmed, Michelle Gomez, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and more, only seem to have happened because Stephen Fry - who did all the original audio books - said he thought she radicalised and "was a lost cause" (x)

swag won’t pay the bills but apparently neither will your degree

WRONG NUMBER PART 4

PAIRING - LEEHAN x FMC

Part 3 here

Content : heartbreak??? Sorryyyyyy no spoilers

PLOT : in hopes of winning her over he can’t help but think if he pushed her further away.

WARNING : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

TAGLIST 💬: @snoopymyung @jinviktor @rixarchive @kitykatnumber

(Comment for tl in next part)

WC: 4K reeeaaaalllyy short ik i’ll make it up to you in the next part 🌸

ALL WORKS ARE FICTION

Author : i’m so sorry for the long break from posting i had many different things going on and just couldn’t find the time to sit down and write🌸

——————ིྀ——————-ིྀ———————ིྀ——————

The doorbell rings at 10:58PM

You’re still in an oversized tee and sweats, hair tied up lazily too socially exhausted to worry about your own styling, when you swing the door open to chaos.

“Move, I’m holding carbs!” Yunjin announces, balancing two pizza boxes like a trophy.

Chaewon slips past her with a bottle tucked under her arm. “We brought emotional support.”

Sakura steps in last, eyeing you carefully. “You look suspiciously domestic.”

“I look the same? It’s only been a few weeks,” you scoff, stepping aside.

“You look glowy,” Yunjin corrects immediately, nudging your shoulder as she walks past. “Like… post-kdrama confession glow.”

You roll your eyes. “You’ve had one sip already, haven’t you?”

They settle in quickly. Shoes off. Pizza opened. Pasta containers spread across your coffee table. Tetra makes her rounds for attention, earning dramatic baby voices from Eunchae.

Within minutes the house is loud. Familiar. Easy the feeling that comes from years of friendship.

Halfway through the first slice, Chaewon leans back against the couch.

“So,” she says carefully. “How is the boy team?”You chew slowly “They’re fine.”

Yunjin narrows her eyes. “Fine is never just fine.”Sakura tilts her head. “I think you are gonna be there a bit longer?”

“No way.”you scoff at her

“Have you not seen social media lately? I wouldn’t be surprised if they keep you for the rest of the award season” Yunjin presses. “it’s work,” you shrug. “Different dynamic. Different schedule. Different experiences”

“Different boys,” Eunchae hums.

You throw a cushion at her.

Yunjin grins, leaning forward. “Okay but seriously. You look… happy.”

You hesitate just a fraction too long.

“That’s offensive,” you deflect. “Was I miserable before?”“No,” Sakura says gently. “You were tired.”

The room quiets slightly.

Yunjin softens. “You’re lighter lately.”

You busy your hands with your wine glass. “It’s just a change of environment.”

“Mmm,” Chaewon hums. “Change of environment or change of person?”

You glare at her.

She grins back.

“Is there someone?” Eunchae asks, wide-eyed and dramatic.

“No.”Too quick.

All four of them freeze.

Yunjin’s smile turns dangerous. “Oh there’s definitely someone.”

“There isn’t.”

“There is.”

“It’s nothing.”

Sakura studies you. “Nothing doesn’t make you blush like that.”

You touch your face instinctively.

Heat.

Betrayal.

“Okay,” Yunjin says, scooting closer. “We’re not asking for names. We’re asking for vibes.”

You groan. “You’re all insufferable.”

“Vibes,” she repeats.

You stare at the pizza box like it personally wronged you.

“He’s…” You stop.

Chaewon perks up. “He.”

You shoot her a warning look.

“He’s intense,” you admit quietly.

“Define intense,” Sakura says.

You think about the storage closet.

The way he reacted to another guy talking to you. The way he said if no one had to know.

“He watches,” you say finally.

“Watches?” Eunchae echoes.

“Like he notices everything. Who I talk to. When I leave. If I’ve eaten.”

Yunjin leans back slowly. “Possessive?”

You hesitate.

“Protective,” you correct.

They all exchange looks.

“Same family,” Chaewon says.

You shake your head. “It’s not toxic. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Except?” Sakura prompts gently.

You swallow.

“Except make me think about it.”

There it is silence again.

Yunjin speaks softer this time. “Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“Does he make you feel pressured?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

You exhale sharply. “he’s an idol.”

They all laugh.

“Rena” Yunjin says. “We are also idols, you know how often they date.”

“You know what I mean,” you groan. “It’s messy. It’s public. It’s risky. And we—” you stop yourself.

“We what?” Chaewon pushes.

“We- i mean i would always be watching, never publicly known, like a secret.”

That lands heavier than you meant it to.

Sakura nods slowly. “So you’re scared.”

“I’m realistic.”

“You’re scared,” Yunjin corrects.

You lean back into the couch, staring at the ceiling. “If I let myself think about it, it turns into something. And I don’t know if he means something or if he-” you gesture vaguely.

“Is playing around? ” Eunchae supplies.

You don’t answer.

Yunjin watches you closely. “Do you want him to mean something?”

The question hits clean.

You open your mouth.

Close it.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

Chaewon hums. “That’s not true.”

You glance at her.

She smiles knowingly. “You just don’t want to say it out loud.”

The room softens again.

Yunjin nudges your knee. “If he’s intense, that doesn’t automatically make it bad. It just means he feels.”

“Or he’s territorial,” Sakura adds carefully.

Your mind flashes to his texts.

Donghyun : Are you home alone?

Donghyun : Is it him?

You push the thought away.

“It’s just adrenaline” you say lightly. “It’ll fade.”

Yunjin snorts. “Chemistry doesn’t glow like that.”

You throw another cushion at her.

Later, after drinking games and far too much laughter, after Eunchae dramatically loses and has to chug water like it’s a championship event, after pizza crusts are abandoned and mascara is slightly smudged.

Yunjin hugs you at the door.

“Text him back,” she murmurs against your ear.

You stiffen slightly. “What do you mean?.”

“It’s been buzzing for the last 3 hours” she smiles

Chaewon squeezes your hand. “Just don’t lie to yourself, okay?”

Sakura gives you a long look. “And don’t let him control the pace.”

Eunchae waves dramatically. “If he’s hot, invite him next time.”

“Goodnight,” you deadpan, pushing them out the door.

The house falls quiet and suddenly every word they said starts replaying in your head.

You look at your phone on the counter the one thing you haven’t touched all night and now it feels like it’s waiting for you.

LEEHAN POV

The dorm is normal, that’s the problem.

Woonhak is half shouting at the TV. Riwoo is stretched out on the floor scrolling. Sungho’s in the kitchen rinsing a glass. Taesan is leaning against the couch, quiet. Jaehyun’s at the table with his laptop open.

I’m staring at my phone, No reply. I flip it over. Flip it back, Nothing.

“You waiting on something?” Woonhak asks.

“No.”Too quick.

Riwoo doesn’t even look up. “You’ve checked it like ten times.”

“I’m bored.”

“You’re a bad liar” Taesan says calmly.

I lean back in the chair. “Hypothetically.”

Groans immediately.

“If someone,” I start, keeping my tone neutral, “was thinking about dating. While active.”

Sungho pauses mid-step. Woonhak’s head snaps toward me. “Dating?”

“In theory.” I stretch, Riwoo smirks. “You? Dating?”

“It’s hypothetical.”

Jaehyun doesn’t look up yet. “Go on.”

“If that person liked someone who isn’t in this industry,” I continue, “what’s the smart move?”

Sungho studies me. “Since when are you thinking about this?”

“I’m not.”

“You just said-”

“In theory.”

Taesan’s eyes lift now. “Is this about you?”

“No.”Too fast again.

Woonhak sits up straighter. “There’s someone.”

“There isn’t.”

“There is.”

“It’s hypothetical.”

Riwoo finally locks his phone and looks at me properly. “If it was hypothetical, you wouldn’t look like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you haven’t blinked in five minutes.”

Silence stretches, I shrug. “I just mean… if you liked someone. And you weren’t sure they felt the same. And you can’t exactly be public about it. Is it smarter to back off?”

Sungho’s expression softens slightly. “Do you like someone?”

I look away.

Jaehyun closes his laptop slowly.

“You have to remember the consequences,” he says evenly.

I glance at him.

“If this becomes real,” he continues, “and people find out, the person outside this industry carries a different weight than we do.”

The room quiets.

“We have management. Media training. Security,” he says. “They don’t.”

My jaw tightens.

“If rumors start, if fans get angry, if people dig into her life,” Jaehyun adds, “she absorbs that differently.”

Woonhak looks between us. “Wait. This is real?”

I exhale slowly.

I didn’t mean to take it this far.

“I don’t want to make someone’s life harder,” I say instead.

Sungho’s brows lift. “So there is someone.”

I stay quiet.

That’s enough.

Riwoo tilts his head. “How long?”

“Not long.”

“Who is she?” Woonhak asks immediately.

I shake my head. “I’m not saying.”

“A trainee?” Sungho asks.

“No.”

“Idol?”

“No.”

“Actress? Influencer?” Riwoo presses.

“No.”

They exchange looks, Taesan watches me carefully. “So she’s not in this world.”

I nod once.

Jaehyun leans back in his chair. “Does she know what comes with you?”

I hesitate.

“Yeah and i think that’s why it’s scary.”

That lands heavier than I expect.

Woonhak frowns. “You think she doesn’t like you?”

I replay tonight.

The unanswered messages.

The silence.

“I don’t know,” I admit, I hate saying that out loud. Riwoo studies me. “Did you fight?”

“No.”

“Then what happened?”

“I might’ve… pushed.”

Taesan’s voice is calm. “Jealous?”

I don’t answer.

Which is answer enough.

Sungho speaks gently. “If you care about her, don’t let insecurity be louder than your feelings.”

Jaehyun nods once. “And don’t forget what I said. If this turns into something, you don’t just carry it. She does too.”

That sits in my chest.

Heavy.

Woonhak nudges my leg with his foot. “You like her a lot, don’t you?”

I stare at my phone lighting up again.

Not her.

The drop in my stomach is sharp.

“…Yeah,” I say quietly.

No teasing this time.

Just a shared understanding.

Taesan’s gaze lingers on me a second longer than the others. Thoughtful. Calculating. Like he’s filing this away, I stand before they can ask anything else. “I’m going to shower.”

“Don’t send another paragraph,” Riwoo calls after me.

Woonhak adds, “And don’t scare her off, hyung.” I don’t respond.

Because I don’t know if I already did and that thought follows me down the hallway.

I wake up before my alarm.

Off days are supposed to feel good. Sleep in. No schedule. No cameras.

Instead I’m staring at the ceiling at 8:12AM like I forgot something important, like we didn’t have one of the biggest stages last night.

My hand reaches for my phone before I’m even fully awake.

No notifications.

I open the chat anyway

Nothing.

My last message sits there exactly where I left it.

Delivered.

Not read.

I swallow.

She probably fell asleep.

She had friends over.

It’s not that deep.

I check her profile.

Active 7 minutes ago.

My stomach drops.

So she’s awake and just not answering me.

I sit up slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.

Maybe she needs space.

Maybe I sounded insane.

I replay the messages.

Are you with someone?

Is it him?

Are you home alone?

God.

Why did I send that.

The dorm is quiet, standard for the day after big performances ,Sungho went to see his family for breakfast ,Jaehyun said he was sleeping in. Taesan’s door is closed. Woonhak’s voice echoes faintly from somewhere down the hall.

Riwoo walks into the kitchen area, still half asleep.

“You’re up early,” he says.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He glances at my phone.

“You good?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

“You eating?”

“Let’s order something.”

We sit at the table scrolling through delivery apps. I pretend to debate between two places while checking her chat every few seconds.

Still nothing.

Riwoo leans back in his chair. “You’re checking it again.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Before I can respond, Woonhak bursts out laughing from the hallway.

A loud, full laugh.

Riwoo smirks faintly. “He found something.”

Woonhak appears a second later, phone in hand, grin wide.

“Listen to this,” he says, holding the screen out.

It’s a food reaction video. Dramatic commentary over some convenience store snacks.

I barely register it.

Then he says, still laughing, “Serena has the funniest vids.”

My head lifts before I can stop it.

“She sent that?” I ask.

Too quick.

I lean back immediately, forcing my voice flat. “I mean… she sent it to you?”

Woonhak nods, still smiling. “Yeah. We send each other reels all the time.”

All the time.

He scrolls up slightly to replay a different one.

And I see it.

Her name at the top.

Time stamps.

6:02AM.

7:39AM.

8:11AM.

Multiple messages.

Laughing emojis.

A voice note.

She’s been awake for hours.

And I still don’t have a reply.

My chest tightens.

Riwoo notices the shift in my expression.

He doesn’t connect it to her.

He just sees me go quiet.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I answer immediately.

Woonhak doesn’t notice anything off. He’s too busy laughing.

“She said we should try that place next week,”he adds casually. “She thinks it’s overrated.”

“Cool,” I say.

It comes out steady.

I don’t feel steady.

Woonhak disappears back down the hall, still scrolling.

Silence settles at the table.

Riwoo watches me for a second.

“You’re weird today,” he says.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I stare at the food app on my phone but I’m not seeing it.

“She hasn’t answered?” he asks casually.

My head snaps up. “Who?”

He shrugs. “Whoever you were texting last night.”

I didn’t realise he noticed that.

“It’s nothing,” I say.

He studies me, then leans back. “If it’s nothing, you wouldn’t look like you’re about to fight the ceiling.”

I look away, He doesn’t push.

“Just don’t overthink it,” he says. “People get busy.”

Busy.

Right.

Busy sending reels.

Busy laughing.

Busy making plans.

I nod like I agree.

But my thoughts are loud.

Did I fuck this up?

Over one night.

Over my own insecurity. I open our chat again still nothing.

My thumb hovers over the keyboard.

I could apologise.

I could act normal.

I could pretend I didn’t spiral or I could wait and risk that the silence means more than I want it to.

I lock my phone.

Set it face down.

And try not to check it again.

I fail thirty seconds later.

I tell myself I won’t look for her

It’s just a normal day at the company. Practice. Meetings. Staff moving in and out like always. Nothing personal. Nothing dramatic.

In the elevator, Woonhak casually holds his phone up to me. “Look. She sent this.”

It’s a photo. Minjae standing in one of the styling rooms holding something oversized and ridiculous, clearly confused.

I recognise the hallway instantly.

“She sent that just now?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

“Yeah,” he says. “She’s in today.”

Of course she is.

I nod once. “Cool.”

The elevator doors open and I step out like nothing shifted.

But everything did.

I don’t go looking for her.

That would be obvious.

Instead, I take the longer hallway to the practice rooms. Walk a little slower past the styling area. Pause near the break space like I’m just checking my phone.

I’m not searching.

I’m listening.

Staff voices echo down the corridor. Garment racks rolling over tile. Laughter spilling from a conference room.

“… fitting at three…”

“… tell Serena—”

My steps slow automatically.

“—Serena said the jackets are being steamed.”

My chest tightens.

She’s here. Close enough that her name is moving through the building in passing conversations.

I keep walking.

Don’t turn your head. Don’t look like you care.

I round another corner and pass a group of stylists carrying garment bags.

“Ask Serena , she’s in Studio B right now,” one of them says.

Studio B.

I don’t change direction immediately. That would be obvious.

I take a sip of water. Count to five.

Then I head down the corridor that just happens to pass Studio B.

My heartbeat feels louder than it should.

It’s just a hallway.

The door is half open. Voices inside. Fabric rustling. Someone adjusting something metallic.

And then—

“No, pin it here instead. It’ll sit better on stage.”

Her.

Clear. Focused. Calm.

Like nothing happened.

I stop for half a second too long before forcing myself to keep walking.

Don’t hover. Don’t stare through the doorway like a creep.

She laughs lightly at something someone says.

It hits harder than I expect.

She sounds normal.

Like she didn’t leave me on delivered for almost twenty-four hours.

Like I didn’t sit awake replaying my own messages.

My phone feels heavy in my pocket.

Still no reply.

Did I fuck this up?

Or is she just pretending it didn’t happen?

I make it back to the practice room and set my bag down like everything’s fine.

Taesan glances at me once. “You took the long way.”

“I know.”

He doesn’t question it.

Music starts. We run the first section.

I miss a count.

My focus isn’t on the choreography.

It’s on the fact that she’s one hallway away.

SERENA

Like Yunjin predicted, the offer came the next morning.

“Stay on through the rest of award season,” management had said. “Continuity. The boys are comfortable with you.”

Comfortable.

That word had almost made you laugh.

Now you’re in Studio B with Minjae, garment racks lining the walls, mood boards spread across a long table. Fabric swatches. Stage references. Lighting notes for the next shows.

“This cut will sit better under harsher lighting,” Minjae says, adjusting a sketch.

You nod, marking something down. “We’ll need reinforcement stitching if they’re doing floor work again.”

You keep your tone steady. Professional. Focused.

You don’t check your phone.

You’ve checked it enough.

You know what’s waiting there.

Or rather, what isn’t.

You’d seen his messages last night.

All of them.

You just didn’t open the chat.

If you opened it, you’d have to answer.

And you didn’t trust yourself to answer calmly.

“PD wants to run through concepts in Practice Room 3,” Minjae says, gathering the folders. “You coming?”

“Yeah.”

You grab your tablet and follow him out.

The hallway feels too familiar.

You tell yourself you’re not thinking about him.

You absolutely are.

As you approach the practice room, you can hear music through the door. A bass line. Someone counting.

Minjae knocks lightly and pushes the door open.

The boys are already inside.

Some are near the mirrors, running choreo. One is half singing into a mic to test levels. Someone’s sitting on the floor stretching.

And then there’s him.

Blonde hair catching the overhead lights.

You feel him before you look at him.

You’ve unintentionally avoided him for forty-eight hours.

Different corridors. Different timing. Different exits.

You didn’t mean for it to become avoidance.

But it did.

You step fully into the room, expression composed.

“Morning,” Minjae greets casually.

They respond in scattered hellos.

You keep your eyes moving. PD. Equipment. Stage layout notes on the whiteboard.

Not him.

You’re aware of him anyway.

The way his movement shifts slightly when you enter.

The way the room feels tighter.

You focus on the discussion. Next award show concept. Camera blocking. Quick change logistics. Who needs reinforcement in their jackets. Which choreography moments require flexibility adjustments.

You speak when necessary. Clear. Efficient. Calm.

Like nothing is wrong.

Like you didn’t lie awake replaying his messages in your head.

Are you with someone?

Is it him?

Are you home alone?

Your jaw tightens slightly at the memory.

You understand jealousy.

You don’t understand accusation.

You finish explaining a stage transition and step back as PD continues talking.

Your phone buzzes in your hand.

The vibration feels louder than it should.

You glance down instinctively.

Donghyun: are you avoiding me?

Your stomach drops.

Of course he’d text now.

You can feel him somewhere in your peripheral vision. Not looking at you directly. But aware.

You type before you can overthink it.

Serena: im working

You hit send.

The typing bubble appears almost immediately.

You don’t look up.

You don’t look at him.

But you can feel it.

The tension stretching across the room like a wire pulled too tight.

You tell yourself it’s simple.

You’re working.

That’s the truth.

It just isn’t the whole truth.

The meeting wraps. PD leaves first. Minjae lingers to confirm fabric timelines before heading out.

You’re stacking your tablet into your bag when you feel it.

That shift in the air.

You don’t look up.

You already know.

“Serena.”

Low. Controlled.

Knowing who the voice belongs to you straighten. “Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you?”

It’s neutral enough that no one questions it. The others are distracted. Music starting again. Someone laughing near the mirrors.

You nod once.

He doesn’t wait.

He steps toward the side studio. The smaller recording room off the main space. The same one as before.

You follow.

The door shuts behind you with a soft click.

Silence.

It’s quieter than last time. No adrenaline. No chaos.

Just tension.

He turns to face you immediately.

“You haven’t answered.”

His voice isn’t raised. It’s tight.

You adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. Calm. “I said I was busy.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You don’t match his intensity. You don’t need to.

“I know.”

He exhales sharply through his nose. Runs a hand through his blonde hair.

“Are you avoiding me?”

There it is.

Not accusation.

Not anger.

Just something frayed.

You finally look at him properly.

And it hits you.

He looks tired.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Like he hasn’t slept properly. Like he’s been replaying something over and over.

Your voice softens automatically.

“No. Not on purpose—”

He steps closer without realizing he’s doing it. “Then why does it feel like that?”

You swallow.

Because you didn’t expect him to ask it like that.

“It’s a lot to think about,” you admit quietly.

His jaw tightens.

“A lot of what?”

“You.”

That lands.

“You’re an idol,” you continue, steady. “You’re not just some guy texting me at midnight. There’s consequences to that. For you. For me.”

His expression shifts at that.

You see it.

The spiral. The jealousy. The fear. The what-ifs.

“You think I didn’t think about that?” he says.

“I think you’re used to managing risk,” you reply gently. “I’m not.”

Silence stretches.

You step a little closer now, closing the emotional gap he opened.

“I wasn’t ignoring you to hurt you.”

His eyes search yours. Desperate for something solid.

“I just didn’t know what answering meant.”

That’s the truth.

If you answered, it meant you were stepping into something.

If you didn’t, it meant you were running.

You exhale slowly.

“I needed space to figure out if this is fantasy… or something real.”

The word fantasy makes his shoulders tense.

“It’s not,” he says immediately.

You believe him.

That’s the problem.

He studies your face like he’s trying to memorize the decision forming there.

“So you’re not avoiding me?” he asks again, softer this time.

You shake your head.

“No. I just needed to breathe.”

His hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t.

“You scared me,” he admits quietly. “I thought I ruined it.”

Your heart stutters.

“You didn’t ruin it.”

He steps close enough now that there’s barely space between you.

“But you have to understand,” you murmur, holding his gaze, “this isn’t simple for me. You don’t just date. You get watched. Analysed. Torn apart.”

“And you think I’d let that happen to you?” he says, almost offended.

“I think you can’t control everything.”

That makes him pause.

Because you’re right.

And he knows it.

The tension shifts.

Less sharp.

More fragile.

You tilt your head slightly.

“I’m not avoiding you,” you repeat softly.

“But I am thinking.”

His expression steadies at that.

He nods once.

Not satisfied.

But understanding.

And for the first time in forty-eight hours, the air between you doesn’t feel like it’s collapsing.

Nothing is decided.

No labels. No promises. No dramatic declarations that would make this easier to define.

“I meant what I said,” Leehan tells me quietly. “Take your time.”

I study his face, searching for resentment. I don’t find it.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he continues. “Even if you decide this stays… whatever it is. Even if you don’t want to call it anything.”

“And if that’s not enough for you?” I ask.

A small pause. “It wouldn’t be,” he admits. “But I’d rather have you uncertain than not at all.” That does something to my chest I don’t know how to name. He steps back first this time. Gives me space. Lets the moment breathe instead of pressing it further. Nothing is decided but nothing is broken either.

Later that day, I’m in my office pretending to work.

My screen is open. Emails sit unanswered. My mind keeps replaying the way he said I’d rather have you uncertain than not at all.

There’s a soft shift of air behind me.

No knock.

Of course.

“You’ve gotta stop appearing unannounced “ I say, not turning around. “It’s getting weird.”

Silence.

Not the familiar kind.

I swivel in my chair.

Taesan is leaning against the doorframe.

Arms folded. Head tilted slightly. Studying me.

My stomach drops, but my expression doesn’t.

“Oh hey what’s up?,” I say evenly.

One eyebrow lifts.

“Who were you expecting.”

The tone is light.

It isn’t.

I blink once, buying time.

“Minjae,” I answer quickly.

Too quickly.

His eyebrow stays raised.

“Minjae,” he repeats.

“Yeah. He said he’d come by about the schedule.”

Taesan pushes off the frame and steps inside, closing the door behind him with quiet precision.

“He’s efficient,” he says.

“He is.”

“I didn’t see him downstairs.”

I shrug. “You don’t monitor every hallway.”

A faint smile touches his mouth. Not amused. Just aware.

“No,” he agrees. “I don’t.”

He walks slowly around the room, not touching anything. Just looking. Measuring.

“I couldn’t sleep the other night,” he says casually.

I keep my hands folded in my lap. “That happens.”

“So I went for a walk.”

My pulse spikes, but I tilt my head as if mildly interested.

“Fresh air’s good for that.”

“It is.”

A pause

“Especially near the river.”

Shit

I don’t react.

“I hope you didn’t fall in,” I say dryly.

His gaze sharpens just a fraction.

“I wasn’t the one near the edge.”

Silence stretches between us.

He saw.

Not everything.

But enough.

He studies my face like he’s waiting for guilt to surface. For panic. For a crack.

I give him none.

After a moment, he exhales lightly.

“I called Leehan that night,” he says. “Right after.”

My heart stutters once.

“I texted you too. Back to back.”

Testing.

He had been testing.

Seeing who would slip.

“Neither of you mentioned anything,” he continues.

His voice isn’t accusing.

It’s observational.

“There wasn’t anything to mention,” I reply.

He holds my gaze.

Long enough that it feels like he’s weighing the lie.

Or the half truth.

“I’m not mad,” he says finally.

I hadn’t realised I was bracing for anger until it doesn’t come.

“I just don’t like not knowing what’s happening around me.”

Around him.

Around the group.

“I don’t know what you think you saw,” I say carefully.

“I think,” he replies, slow and measured, “that if something is happening, it shouldn’t be reckless.”

Not stop.

Not end.

Just not reckless.

“That’s a big assumption,” I counter.

“Maybe.” His head tilts slightly. “But I know him.”

The room feels smaller.

“He doesn’t do anything halfway,” Taesan adds. “And apparently neither do you.”

My jaw tightens before I can stop it.

“That’s flattering,” I say lightly.

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

Another pause.

“If there’s nothing,” he continues, straightening slightly, “then this conversation never happened.” He doesn’t finish it, He doesn’t need to.

He moves toward the door, hand resting on the handle.

“Oh,” he adds, almost casually. “Minjae left the building 20 minutes ago”

The air leaves my lungs.

He opens the door.

“Be careful, he might be comfortable in the industry but you have nothing to fall back on if people analyse your every move serena, zero privacy” he says, softer now not a threat, warning.

I sit there for a long moment after the door closes. He knows, He’s not angry, He’s watching.

I force myself back into work.

Emails. Call sheets. Fabric approvals. Anything that feels structured enough to quiet my thoughts.

Eventually the building starts to empty. The light outside my office window shifts warmer. Normal. Calm.

I shut my laptop and finally pick up my phone.

A notification waits.

Taesan.

My chest tightens before I even open it.

Taesan: I’ve never seen someone look disheveled while giving fashion advice in a studio. First time for everything.

The blood drains from my face.

Disheveled.

Studio.

My mind flashes back to that night. The alleged soundproofing, The way I fixed my hair too quickly. The way I avoided eye contact afterward.

Another message comes through.

Taesan: I thought stylists were meticulous.

That isn’t teasing.

He knows

Not just the river.

Before that.

My fingers hover over the screen, but I don’t reply.

For the first time all day, I feel exposed.

Not caught.

Seen.

——————————————————————————

T - HIIII i know i know i am so sorry for the lack of contact i’ve had on here for the last month things just got really hectic but hopefully now it’s chilled out i can go back to fueling your curiosities 💬

🦊: enhypen would be incomplete without your voice

🐹: 💪🏻

🦊: i really think that

BEST FUCK OF YOUR LIFE — y.jw

.ᐟ.ᐟPairing: Jungwon x Female Reader

.ᐟ.ᐟGenre: Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Fluff

.ᐟ.ᐟWord Count: ~27.4k

.ᐟ.ᐟSummary: After a drunken bet leads to the best sex of your life, you and Jungwon agree to keep things casual. But when feelings get involved and a new guy enters the picture, everything gets complicated.

.ᐟ.ᐟContent warnings: explicit sexual content (MDNI), oral sex both giving and receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, use of a vibrator, 69 position, penetrative sex, multiple positions, dirty talk, praise kink, light possessiveness and jealousy kink, dominance and control play, overstimulation, semi-public sex, car sex, shower sex, hickeys, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, weed use, mutual jealousy, emotional avoidance, brief emotional breakdown, using someone as a rebound, kissing someone while emotionally involved with another, sneaking around, strong language, possessive language, mild angst, happy ending

.ᐟ.ᐟSong: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

.ᐟ.ᐟAuthors note: hey loves!!, this fic has been living in my head rent free for way too long so i finally just said we’re doing this. please check the content warnings before reading because there is a LOT going on here. two idiots with walls up, terrible at feelings, great at everything else — that’s the whole story honestly. the smut is meant to show emotional progression so if you read closely you’ll notice how they change with each other as feelings develop. daniel was never a villain, just bad timing, please be nice to him 😭 if you made it to the end thank you from the bottom of my heart 💓. comments, likes, feedback and reblogs keep me writing so don’t be a silent reader i am begging, ps. yes the title is intentional. enjoy lovelies 🥰 my masterlist

The apartment reeks of weed, cheap beer, and too many people crammed into too small a space. It’s Jake’s place tonight, which means Maya’s been here since noon helping him “clean” (read: shove everything into closets).

You’re sprawled on the couch between Liv and Reina, a half-empty White Claw sweating in your hand, already feeling the pleasant buzz of your third drink settling into your bones. “I’m just saying,” you announce, louder than necessary, “men are fucking useless.”

“No, I’m serious!” You gesture wildly, nearly sloshing your drink. “Like, is it really that fucking hard to find the clit? Is basic anatomy that complicated?”

“Here we go,” Jay groans again from the floor, leaning back against Sunghoon’s legs. They’re playing some racing game on mute while everyone else talks over them. Reina cackles. “Who are we talking about?”

“That guy from Delta Sig I went home with last weekend.” You take a long drink. “Forty-five minutes of the most mediocre dick of my life and he had the audacity to ask if I came.”

“Did you fake it?” Liv asks, already knowing the answer.

“Fuck no. I told him the truth and he got all butthurt about it.” You roll your eyes. “Like sorry bro, maybe develop some skills.”

“Brutal,” Sunoo says, grinning as he passes the joint to Niki.

“Honest,” you correct. “I don’t have time to protect egos. If you can’t make me cum, I’m not gonna lie about it.”

Across the room, Jungwon is watching you with this amused smirk, one eyebrow raised. He’s been quiet most of the night, nursing the same beer, legs spread wide in that infuriatingly confident way guys sit when they know they look good. And he does look good—black t-shirt, gray sweatpants, hair falling into his eyes just right. “What?” you challenge, catching his stare.

“Nothing.” But his smirk deepens. “Just sounds like you’ve been picking the wrong guys.”

“Oh please.” You lean forward. “Like you’d be any different.”

Something shifts in his expression. His eyes darken, and he tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Want me to prove it?”

The room doesn’t exactly go quiet, but you feel like it does. Your stomach does this weird flip. “Prove what?” You keep your voice steady even though your heart is suddenly racing.

“That you’ve been fucking the wrong guys.” He says it so casually, like he’s commenting on the weather. But there’s nothing casual about the way he’s looking at you.

Reina makes a choking sound beside you. Someone—maybe Heeseung—mutters “oh shit” under their breath. You should laugh it off. Make a joke. Change the subject. But you’re drunk enough to be bold and curious enough to wonder if he’s all talk. “You’re that confident?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” No hesitation. “I am.”

The challenge hangs in the air between you. You’re aware of everyone watching, waiting to see what you’ll do. Maya’s eyes are wide. Jay looks like he’s trying to figure out if he should intervene. “Okay.” You stand up, and Jungwon’s smirk falters for just a second—like he didn’t expect you to actually take him up on it. “Prove it.”

You start walking toward the hallway that leads to Jake’s bedroom, and after a beat, you hear Jungwon follow.

“Are they really—” someone starts.

“Yup,” Reina says, and she sounds absolutely delighted.

Jake’s bedroom is dark and quiet, muffled music and laughter filtering through the door. You flip on the lamp, suddenly aware that you’re alone with Jungwon and you just agreed to let him— “You don’t have to,” he says, and when you turn, he’s standing close but not crowding you. “If you were just calling my bluff.”

“Were you bluffing?”

“No.”

The word sends heat straight through you. You step closer, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “Then stop talking and do it.”

For a second he just looks at you, and then his hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone. “You sure?”

“Jungwon.” You grab his shirt. “I swear to god, if you’re going to do it, then—” He kisses you. Not rough, not tentative—just sure. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and honestly? The confidence is already working for you. His lips are soft and he tastes like beer and something minty, and when his tongue slides against yours, you make a sound you’ll probably be embarrassed about later.

But he groans in response, walking you backward until your legs hit the bed. You fall onto it and he follows, hovering over you, one hand planted by your head while the other slides under your shirt. “This okay?” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Yes, fuck—yes.”

His hand skims up your ribs, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your bralette, and you arch into the touch. He’s taking his time, kissing along your jaw, down your neck, finding that spot behind your ear that makes you gasp. “Sensitive here?” he asks, sounding pleased.

“Shut up.”

He laughs, low and warm against your skin. “You’re mouthy.”

“You have no idea.”

“Guess I’ll find out.” He sits back and pulls his shirt off in one smooth motion, and—okay. Okay. You knew he was lean but you didn’t know he looked like that without clothes. He catches you staring and smirks. “See something you like?”

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Too late.” But his hands are gentle as he reaches for the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to nod before pulling it off. Your bralette follows, and then his mouth is on your breast and coherent thought gets significantly harder.

He’s good at this. The guy knows what he’s doing with his tongue, circling your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. His hand works your other breast, thumb and forefinger rolling and pinching until you’re panting. “Jungwon—”

“Hmm?” He switches sides, giving your other breast the same attention, and you thread your fingers through his hair and tug.

“Stop teasing.”

“I’m not teasing.” He looks up at you through his lashes, and the sight of him between your breasts does something to you. “I’m being thorough.” His hand trails down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans. “Can I?”

“Yes, god, yes.”

He unbuttons them slowly—too slowly—and slides them down your legs along with your underwear. You’re completely naked and he’s still half-dressed, and something about that makes you feel exposed in a way that’s not entirely uncomfortable. Jungwon sits back on his heels, just looking at you, and you fight the urge to cover yourself. “Stop staring.”

“Can’t help it.” His hands slide up your thighs, pushing them apart. “You’re so fucking pretty.” The praise makes your face heat. You’re not used to guys taking their time like this, looking at you like you’re something worth savoring.

“Let me know if anything doesn’t feel good,” he says, and then his mouth is on your inner thigh, kissing and biting a path upward until his breath is ghosting over where you need him most.

The first touch of his tongue is light—experimental. He licks a broad stripe up your center and you gasp, hips jerking. His hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as he does it again, more pressure this time. “Fuck,” you breathe.

He hums against you, and the vibration makes your toes curl. Then he finds your clit with the tip of his tongue, circling it slowly, and—oh. Oh.

You’ve had guys go down on you before. Most of them acted like it was a chore, something to rush through to get to the “main event.” But Jungwon is eating you out like he has all the time in the world, like he’s enjoying it as much as you are.

He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, reading your body’s reactions—when you moan, when your hips buck, when your thighs start to tremble. And when he slides one finger inside you, crooking it just right while his tongue works your clit, you actually see stars. “Holy shit,” you gasp, one hand fisted in his hair, the other gripping the sheets.

He adds a second finger, stretching you, and the combination of his mouth and his fingers pumping into you is almost too much. You’re making sounds you’ve never made before, completely uninhibited, and he’s groaning against you like getting you off is getting him off. “Jungwon, I’m—fuck, I’m close—”

He doesn’t change what he’s doing. Doesn’t speed up or switch techniques like so many guys do right when you’re on the edge. He just keeps that same perfect rhythm, fingers curling inside you, tongue circling your clit, and you come harder than you ever have with another person. Your whole body goes taut, thighs clamping around his head as waves of pleasure crash over you. He works you through it, only lightening his touch when you start to squirm from sensitivity.

When you can finally breathe again, you look down to find him watching you with the most self-satisfied expression you’ve ever seen. “You were saying?” he asks, and you want to be annoyed but you’re too blissed out to care.

“Okay,” you admit. “Point proven.”

He crawls up your body, kissing you deep, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. His erection presses against your thigh through his sweatpants, and you reach down to palm him through the fabric. He groans into your mouth. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” You push at his shoulders until he rolls onto his back, and then you’re straddling him, grinding down against his clothed cock. “Unless you’re done proving yourself?”

His hands grip your hips, helping you rock against him. “Fuck no.” You lean down to kiss him while your hand slips into his sweatpants, wrapping around him. He’s hard and thick, and when you stroke him, his hips jerk up into your hand.

“Condom?” you murmur against his lips.

“Wallet. Back pocket.” You climb off long enough for him to shove his sweatpants and boxers down, and—yeah, okay, the confidence makes sense. You grab his wallet from his discarded pants, finding the condom and tearing it open while he strokes himself lazily, watching you with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Let me,” he says, taking it from you and rolling it on. Then his hands are on your waist, lifting you, positioning you over him. “Go slow. Take what you need.”

You sink down onto him inch by inch, and the stretch is perfect. He fills you completely, and when you’re fully seated, you both groan. “Fuck, you feel good,” he breathes, hands flexing on your hips.

You start to move, rolling your hips, finding a rhythm. His hands guide you but he lets you control the pace, watching where you’re joined with an expression that’s almost reverent. “Touch yourself,” he says, voice rough. “Want to feel you come on my cock.”

The words send a fresh wave of arousal through you. You brace one hand on his chest and bring the other between your legs, fingers finding your clit. You’re still sensitive from before, and it doesn’t take much—just a few circles while he thrusts up into you, hitting that perfect spot inside. “That’s it,” he encourages, sitting up to mouth at your neck, one hand gripping your ass to help you move. “You’re so fucking hot like this. Taking what you need.”

You’re close again, impossibly, and when he bites down on your shoulder at the same moment his cock hits deep, you shatter. Your orgasm rips through you and you feel him follow seconds later, groaning your name against your skin as he pulses inside you. You collapse against his chest, both of you breathing hard. His hand comes up to stroke your back, gentle and grounding.

“So,” he says after a minute, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “Still think I’m no different?”

You lift your head to glare at him, but there’s no heat in it. “Okay, fine. You were right.”

“Say it louder, I don’t think they heard you outside.”

You smack his chest and he laughs, catching your wrist and pressing a kiss to your palm. The gesture is surprisingly tender for what just happened. “Holy shit,” you say, the reality of the situation finally catching up. “We just fucked in Jake’s bed.”

“Yeah, we should probably…” He gestures vaguely. You climb off him carefully, and he deals with the condom while you hunt for your clothes in the dim light. There’s something surreal about getting dressed in comfortable silence after what just happened. Like you’ve done this before, even though you haven’t.

When you’re both decent, you catch sight of yourself in Jake’s mirror. Your hair is a mess, lips swollen, and there’s a hickey blooming on your collarbone. “Shit.” You touch it gingerly.

Jungwon comes up behind you, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Sorry. Got carried away.”

“It’s fine.” You try to fluff your hair into something less “I just got thoroughly fucked.” “Everyone’s gonna know, though.”

“They already know.” He grins. “We weren’t exactly quiet.”

Your face heats. He’s right—you definitely weren’t quiet. “Oh god.”

“Hey.” He turns you around, hands on your shoulders. “You good? This isn’t… weird?”

You consider it. By all accounts, it should be weird. You just fucked one of your friends on a drunken bet. But looking at him now, his hair messy from your hands, expression open and a little concerned, it doesn’t feel weird. “I’m good,” you say honestly. “You?”

“I’m great.” His smile is genuine. “That was—”

“Really good,” you finish.

“Yeah.” You stand there for a beat too long, and then you clear your throat. “We should probably get back before they send a search party.”

“Right. Yeah.” He opens the door and you walk out first, down the hallway back to the living room where the entire group is absolutely not pretending they weren’t waiting for you. The silence when you walk in is deafening.

“So,” Reina says, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Scale of one to ten?”

“Reina!” Maya looks mortified.

You just laugh and drop back onto the couch. “Solid eleven.” The room erupts. Jay throws a pillow at you. Sunghoon looks like he wishes he could disappear. Heeseung and Jake are cackling. Liv just gives you a knowing look and passes you a fresh drink. Jungwon sits down across from you, and when your eyes meet, he smirks. You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back.

Yeah, you think, taking a long drink. This is either the best or worst decision you’ve ever made.

It’s after three AM when the party finally winds down. People are crashed on various surfaces—Niki and Sunoo sharing the big armchair, Heeseung sprawled on the floor, Jay and Sunghoon having claimed the other couch. Maya and Jake disappeared into his room about an hour ago. You’re pretty sober now, sitting on the balcony with Liv and Reina, sharing a cigarette and watching the campus lights below.

“So,” Liv says, passing you the cigarette. “You gonna talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“You fucked Jungwon.” Reina isn’t one for subtlety. You nod.

“And?”

You take a drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. “And it was really good.”

“We gathered that from the sounds,” Reina says, grinning when you flip her off. “But like… are you gonna do it again?”

“I don’t know. Probably not?” Even as you say it, you’re not sure you believe it. “It was just a drunk thing.”

“A drunk thing where you came so hard we heard you through the door,” Liv points out. Your face heats. “Oh my god.”

“I’m just saying.” She shrugs. “That kind of chemistry doesn’t come around often. And you’re both single. Why not?”

“Because he’s part of the group,” you say, voicing the concern that’s been nagging at you since you got dressed. “If things got messy…”

“Things don’t have to get messy,” Reina says. “People have casual sex all the time.”

“Not with their friends.”

“Sure they do.” Liv stubs out the cigarette. “Look, I’m not saying marry the guy. But if you both enjoyed it and you’re both adults… I don’t see the problem.”

You don’t have a good argument for that, mainly because you’re still thinking about his hands on your body, his mouth between your legs, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. “I’ll think about it,” you say finally.

Your phone buzzes at 4:17 AM. You’re in your own bed now, having gotten an Uber home with Liv and Reina. You should be asleep but you keep replaying the night in your head.

jungwon: you up? i can’t sleep

You stare at the message for a long moment before typing back. you: same

jungwon: kept thinking about earlier

Your heart rate picks up. you: yeah?

jungwon: that okay?

you: yeah. me too

There’s a long pause where you watch the three dots appear and disappear several times.

jungwon: look, if tonight was just a one time thing, that’s cool. but if you ever wanted to do it again with no strings. you said it yourself. good sex is hard to find

You bite your lip, thumb hovering over the keyboard. This is probably a bad idea. You should say thanks but no thanks, keep things simple.

you: no strings?

jungwon: none. just two friends helping each other out

you: friends who fuck

jungwon: exactly

you: you’re sure this won’t make things weird with the group?

jungwon: only if we let it

You think about what Liv said. About chemistry and being adults and not overthinking things. you: okay

jungwon: yeah?

you: yeah. but we need rules

jungwon: rules work

you: we can talk about it tomorrow. when we’re sober

jungwon: sounds good. for the record though

you: ?

jungwon: you taste amazing

Your face goes hot and you let out an embarrassing sound even though you’re alone in your room. you: go to SLEEP jungwon

jungwon: sweet dreams 😏

You toss your phone aside and press your face into your pillow, smiling like an idiot. This is definitely a bad idea. But god, you kind of can’t wait to make it worse.

You meet Jungwon at a coffee shop off campus, neutral territory where you’re less likely to run into anyone from the group. It’s Tuesday afternoon, and you both have a gap between classes. He’s already there when you arrive, sitting in a corner booth with two iced americanos, and when he sees you, he slides one across the table. “Wasn’t sure how you take it,” he says.

“Black’s fine.” You sit down across from him, suddenly feeling weirdly nervous. Which is stupid—you’ve literally had his dick inside you. A coffee meetup shouldn’t be the awkward part. But he seems to sense it because he grins. “This is weird, right?”

“So weird,” you admit, and you both laugh, and just like that the tension breaks.

“Okay.” He leans back, fingers drumming on his cup. “Rules.”

“Rules,” you agree. “First one: no one can know.”

“Agreed. Jay and Sunghoon would lose their minds.”

“Jay would literally try to fight you.” You take a sip of coffee. “And Maya would never let me hear the end of it.”

“So we’re careful. No disappearing together at group things unless we have a good excuse.”

“And we stagger leaving,” you add. “Like, if you leave a party, I wait at least twenty minutes before I go.”

“Smart.” He nods. “What about texting?”

“Keep it normal in the group chat. If we’re gonna hook up, we text privately.”

“Works for me.” He studies you for a moment. “What about other people?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Other people?”

“Like, are we exclusive? Or can we still hook up with other people?”

It’s a fair question, even if something in your chest tightens at the thought of him with someone else. Which is stupid. This is purely physical. “We can do whatever we want,” you say carefully. “But if either of us starts hooking up with someone else regularly, we should probably end this. Easier that way.”

“Makes sense.” He seems to hesitate. “And if one of us catches feelings?”

“Then we stop immediately.” You meet his eyes. “That’s the most important rule. This only works if we’re both on the same page.”

“Agreed.” He holds out his hand across the table. “So we have a deal?”

You shake his hand, trying to ignore how warm his palm is against yours. “Deal.”

“Cool.” He doesn’t let go right away. “So… your place or mine?”

Heat pools in your stomach. “Eager?”

“You’re the one who wore that skirt.”

You glance down at your denim mini skirt, then back up at him with a smirk. “I have class in two hours.”

“That’s plenty of time.”

His apartment is closer, a small one-bedroom he shares with Heeseung who’s conveniently at class until five. The second the door closes behind you, his mouth is on yours, backing you against the wall. “Been thinking about this since Saturday,” he murmurs against your lips, hands sliding under your skirt to grip your ass.

“It’s only been three days.”

“Three days too long.” He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his room. It’s surprisingly clean—bed made, clothes put away, posters of various bands on the walls.

He lays you on the bed and steps back, pulling his shirt over his head. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch, admiring the view. “Like what you see?” he asks, echoing your words from the other night.

“You already know I do.”

He grins and climbs over you, settling between your legs. “Want to try something?”

“Like what?”

“You’ll see.” His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your skirt up around your waist. “Trust me?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, and you mean it.

He hooks his fingers in your underwear and drags them down slowly, and you’re already wet just from the anticipation. He spreads your legs wider, thumb brushing over your clit almost teasingly before he slides two fingers inside you. “Fuck,” you gasp, hips rolling against his hand.

“Still sensitive from last time?” He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them just right.

“A little.”

He leans down to kiss you, swallowing your moan as he works you open. When he adds a third finger, the stretch makes your toes curl. He finger-fucks you until you’re panting, right on the edge, and then he stops. You make a sound of protest and he laughs. “Patience.” He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a small vibrator.

Your eyes widen. “You just have that?”

“Ex left it here.” He turns it on, and the low buzz fills the room. “Never thought I’d use it, but…”

He presses it against your clit and you nearly jackknife off the bed. The sensation is intense, overwhelming, especially when he slides his fingers back inside you at the same time. “Oh fuck—Jungwon—”

“That good?” He sounds smug, but you can’t even be annoyed because he’s right. It’s so good you can barely breathe.

He works you with the vibrator and his fingers, watching your face intently, adjusting based on your reactions. When you’re close, thighs shaking, he leans down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth through your shirt.

You come with a cry, back arching, and he doesn’t stop until you’re pushing his hand away from oversensitivity. “Holy shit,” you pant.

He turns off the vibrator and sets it aside, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “Good?”

“You know it was.”

“Want to keep going?” Instead of answering, you sit up and push him onto his back, straddling him. You can feel how hard he is through his jeans, and you grind down against him, making him groan.

“Your turn,” you say, working his belt open. You take your time getting him naked, kissing down his chest and stomach, enjoying the way his muscles jump under your lips. When you finally get his jeans and boxers off, his cock springs free, already leaking. You wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly, and he hisses through his teeth.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you cut him off, and then you take him in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, hand flying to your hair. Not pushing, just holding on as you work him with your tongue. You take him as deep as you can, hollowing your cheeks, and the sounds he makes are incredibly satisfying.

You pull off with a wet pop. “You gonna tell me what you like?”

“That,” he says breathlessly. “I like that.”

“Be specific.” You lick up the underside of his cock. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Fuck—okay, um, tighter grip, and—yeah, just like that.” His hips buck when you comply. “And twist your hand a little when you—oh god—“

You find a rhythm that has him falling apart, alternating between your mouth and your hand, and when you cup his balls gently, he swears. “I’m close,” he warns, tugging your hair. “If you don’t want to—”

You double down, taking him deeper, and he comes with a groan, spilling down your throat. You swallow and work him through it until he’s shaking. When you pull off and wipe your mouth, he’s staring at you like you’re some kind of miracle. “You’re really good at that,” he says, voice wrecked.

“Right back at you.” You climb up to lie beside him. “This is gonna be fun.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, pulling you closer. “It really is.”

The first group hangout after your arrangement starts is at someone’s house party on Thursday. One of the senior volleyball guys is throwing it, and the place is packed by the time you arrive with Liv and Reina.

You spot the guys in the backyard—Jay and Sunghoon playing beer pong against Jake and Heeseung, Sunoo and Niki smoking by the fence. And Jungwon leaning against the porch railing, red cup in hand, talking to some girl you vaguely recognize from Psychology. Something ugly twists in your chest before you can stop it.

“Don’t,” Liv says quietly.

“Don’t what?”

“You know what.” She steers you toward the drinks table. “Remember the rules.” Right. The rules. You can both do whatever you want. It doesn’t matter that the girl is touching his arm, laughing at something he said. It doesn’t matter at all. You pour yourself a strong drink and down half of it.

“There you are!” Maya appears, already tipsy, Jake trailing behind her. “We’ve been here for like an hour, where were you?”

“Reina took forever getting ready,” Liv says, throwing her under the bus.

“Excuse me, this face is a work of art.” Reina gestures at her makeup. “It takes time.”

You tune them out, eyes drifting back to Jungwon. The girl is still there, but now he’s looking at you. When your eyes meet, he says something to her and starts walking over. “Hey,” he says when he reaches your group, giving everyone a casual nod before his eyes land on you. “You just get here?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” His cup is empty. “I’m gonna grab another drink. Want to come?”

It’s a normal question. The kind of thing he might have asked before. But Maya and Reina exchange a look, and you want to die. “Sure.”

You follow him to the drinks table, hyperaware of the space between you. “That girl,” you say as he pours vodka into his cup. “From Psychology?”

“Mina. Yeah.” He adds red bull, not looking at you. “She was asking about the midterm.”

“Right.”

“You jealous?” He’s smirking now, voice low enough that only you can hear.

“No.”

“Liar.” He leans in slightly. “You look really good, by the way.”

You’re wearing low-waisted jeans and a cropped black tank top, simple but effective. “Thanks.”

“Having fun yet?”

“I just got here.”

“Want to have more fun later?” The suggestion in his voice is clear.

“Maybe.” You take a sip of your drink. “If you play your cards right.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Two hours later, you’re drunk and high and dancing in the crowded living room with Reina and some people from your Communications class. The music is too loud, bodies pressed too close, and you’re sweaty and happy and not thinking about anything.

Until hands settle on your waist from behind. You know it’s Jungwon before you even turn around—you’re getting familiar with his touch. He’s behind you, moving with you, and it takes everything in you not to lean back against him. “Thought you were playing beer pong,” you say over your shoulder.

“Got boring.” His breath is warm against your ear. “This is better.”

You shouldn’t be doing this. People will notice. But the room is dark and crowded, and everyone’s drunk, and his body feels so good against yours. You let yourself grind back against him, just a little, and his grip on your waist tightens.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs.

“You started it.”

One of his hands slides lower, fingers playing with the belt loop of your jeans, not quite dipping under but close enough to make you ache. “Your place or mine?” he asks.

“Mine. Liv’s staying at her girlfriend’s.”

“Meet you there in twenty?”

“Make it fifteen.”

He shows up in twelve minutes. The second you open your apartment door, he’s on you, walking you backward until you hit the wall. His mouth is hot and demanding, tasting like weed and whatever he was drinking, and you can’t get enough. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he groans, hands everywhere at once.

“You were talking to that girl for like twenty minutes.”

He pulls back to look at you, grinning. “You were jealous.”

“Shut up.”

“You were.” He kisses down your neck. “That’s cute.”

“I wasn’t—” You lose your train of thought when he bites down on your pulse point.

“Whatever you say.” His hands slide under your shirt, pushing it up. “Can I take this off?”

“Yes.”

Your shirt and bra hit the floor, and then his mouth is on your breast and you stop caring about anything else. He takes his time, sucking marks into your skin that you’ll have to cover tomorrow, and when he drops to his knees in front of you, your brain short-circuits. “These too?” He’s already unbuttoning your jeans.

“Please.” He gets you naked efficiently, and then he’s lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, face level with your pussy.

“Hold on to something,” he advises, and then his tongue is on you. You grip his hair with one hand, the other braced against the wall, as he devours you. He’s not gentle about it—licking and sucking and fucking you with his tongue until your leg is shaking and you’re barely staying upright.

“Jungwon—fuck—I’m gonna fall—”

He stands up, and before you can process it, he’s lifting you. You wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you to your bedroom, laying you out on the bed.

“Better?” he asks.

“Much.”

He strips quickly and you admire the view—he’s fully hard, cock jutting up against his stomach. When he settles between your legs again, you expect him to reach for a condom, but instead he slides down your body. “Want to try something else,” he says, kissing your inner thigh.

“Yeah?”

“Can I go down on you while you suck me?”

Heat floods through you. “Like 69?”

“Yeah.” He looks almost nervous. “If you want.”

“Okay.” He repositions so he’s on his back, and you straddle his face, leaning forward to take his cock in your hand. The angle is different like this, and when his tongue finds your clit, you gasp.

“Fuck—sorry—” You’re distracted, and you force yourself to focus, wrapping your lips around him.

It’s intense, trying to concentrate on getting him off while he’s making you feel so good. Every time you take him deeper, he groans against your pussy, and the vibration makes you moan around him.

You’re dripping on his face, riding his tongue, and his hands grip your ass, pulling you down harder. The obscene wet sounds fill the room, and you’re so turned on you can barely see straight.

When he slides two fingers inside you while sucking your clit, you come with his cock still in your mouth, and he follows seconds later, groaning your name. You collapse beside him, both of you breathing hard. “Holy shit,” you say eventually.

“Good?”

“So good.” You turn your head to look at him. “You’re full of ideas.”

“I like making you come.” He says it so casually, like it’s a fact. “Want to see how many times I can do it.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.”

You glance at the clock—it’s barely midnight. “How many orgasms are we talking?”

“How many can you handle?”

“More than you’d think.”

His smile is wicked. “Let’s find out.”

Forty minutes and two more orgasms later (one from his fingers, one from actually fucking), you’re a boneless mess in your sheets and Jungwon looks unreasonably smug. “I think I won,” he says.

“You didn’t—I made you come too—”

“Twice. You came four times.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“Everything’s a competition.” But he’s smiling, tracing lazy patterns on your hip. “You okay? Not too much?”

“I’m great.” And you are—exhausted and satisfied and floating. “You’re really good at this.”

“So are you.” He kisses your shoulder. “We work well together.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “We do.” Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You reach for it and find a string of messages in the group chat. maya: where did everyone gooooo

reina: i saw y/n leave and jungwon left like right after 👀

jay: oh god not this again

sunghoon: can we NOT

heeseung: let them live lmao

reina: i’m just SAYING

liv: leave them alone

You show Jungwon the messages and he laughs. “We’re not subtle,” he says.

“Not even a little bit.”

“Does it bother you?”

You think about it. The teasing is annoying, but it’s not like you’re ashamed. “No. Does it bother you?”

“Nah.” He stretches, all long limbs and satisfied energy. “Let them speculate. As long as we don’t confirm anything, we’re good.”

“Agreed.” You type out a response. you: i left because i was tired. stop being weird

reina: SURE

you: i hate you

reina: love you too babe 😘

You toss your phone aside and curl into Jungwon’s side. He wraps an arm around you automatically, and it feels dangerously comfortable. “Should you go?” you ask. “It’s late.”

“Do you want me to?”

You should say yes. Letting him stay feels too intimate, too couple-y. But you’re tired and warm and he’s already half-asleep. “You can stay if you want.”

“Okay.” He’s already drifting off.

You lie awake a little longer, listening to his breathing even out, trying not to think about how right this feels. It’s just sex, you remind yourself. Really good sex with someone you trust. That’s all. You almost believe it.

Friday afternoon you have Intro to Film Studies, and you’re running late because you definitely overslept after Jungwon didn’t leave until 6 AM. You slide into your usual seat next to this guy Marcus from your dorm building just as the professor starts. “Rough night?” Marcus whispers, grinning.

“Something like that.” You’re trying to focus on the lecture about French New Wave cinema when your phone buzzes.

jungwon: you left your underwear in my car

You freeze. you: WHAT

jungwon: black lace ones. very nice btw

you: how did they end up in your car???

jungwon: you really don’t remember?

And then you do remember. Wednesday night, he picked you up after your late class, you made out in his car in the parking garage, things escalated, and apparently you forgot to put all your clothes back on.

you: oh my god

jungwon: don’t worry, heeseung didn’t see them

jungwon: i hid them before he got in

you: this is a nightmare

jungwon: or it’s funny

you: WHERE ARE THEY NOW

jungwon: my pocket

you: JUNGWON

jungwon: what? they’re safe

you: you’re insane

jungwon: you like it

You bite your lip to keep from smiling, hyperaware that you’re in the middle of class. you: i’m in class

jungwon: so am i. keeps things interesting

you: i hate you

jungwon: you definitely don’t. not after the sounds you were making wednesday night

Your face goes hot. you: STOP

jungwon: come over after class?

you: can’t. studying with maya

jungwon: tomorrow?

you: there’s that party at the phi delt house

jungwon: sunday then

you: sunday works

jungwon: it’s a date

you: it’s not a date

jungwon: right. forgot. just two friends fucking

you: exactly

jungwon: can’t wait 😉

You shove your phone in your bag and try to concentrate on the lecture, but it’s useless. You’re too busy thinking about Sunday, about his hands and his mouth and the way he says your name when he comes. This is getting dangerous. But you can’t seem to stop.

The party Saturday night is massive—Phi Delt always goes hard. You show up with your girls, already tipsy from pregaming, and immediately lose track of everyone in the crowd. You’re in the kitchen mixing a drink when someone bumps into you, sloshing vodka on your hand. “Shit, sorry—oh hey!”

You turn to find Mina, the girl from Jungwon’s Psych class. Up close she’s even prettier—long dark hair, perfect skin, bright smile. “No worries,” you say, wiping your hand on your jeans.

“You’re friends with Jungwon, right?” she asks. “I’ve seen you guys together.”

Something in your chest tightens. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“He’s so sweet.” She’s making herself a drink, completely oblivious to your internal crisis. “We’ve been studying together for Psych. He’s really smart.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Are you guys like… together? I don’t want to step on any toes.”

The question catches you off guard. “Oh—no, we’re just friends.”

“Cool!” She seems genuinely relieved. “I was thinking about asking him out. Do you think he’d be into that?”

You should say yes. Or say you don’t know. You should definitely not feel like you want to throw your drink in her face, because you have no claim on Jungwon. That’s the whole point. “You should ask him,” you say, forcing a smile.

“I think I will!” She bounces off, and you’re left standing there feeling weird and hollow.

You down your drink and make another one, stronger this time. “Easy there,” a voice says, and you turn to find Jay watching you with concern. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You’re drinking like you’re not fine.”

“I’m just trying to have fun, Jay. Is that allowed?”

He holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. Just checking.”

You feel bad immediately. “Sorry. I’m just… it’s been a week.”

“Want to talk about it?” You shake your head no. “Does this have anything to do with Jungwon?”

Your head snaps up. “Why would it?”

“Come on.” Jay gives you a look. “I’m not stupid. Neither is Sunghoon. We know something’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on.”

“Right. And you guys just happened to leave that party within five minutes of each other for completely unrelated reasons.”You don’t say anything. “Look,” Jay says, his voice gentler. “I don’t care what you guys do. You’re both adults. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’m not going to get hurt. It’s just casual.”

“Is it?”

Before you can answer, Jungwon appears in the doorway, Mina trailing behind him. When he sees you, something flickers across his face. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

Mina touches his arm. “I’m gonna go find my friends, but text me about that study session?”

“Sure,” he says, and she leaves.

You feel Jay watching both of you. “I’m gonna go find Sunghoon,” he says pointedly. “You two… talk. Or whatever.”

When he’s gone, Jungwon moves closer. “You okay?”

“Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You seem tense.”

“I’m not tense.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t look convinced. “You want to get out of here?”

“I just got here.”

“So?”

“So people will notice.”

“Let them notice.” His hand brushes yours, brief but deliberate. “Come on. Please?”

You shouldn’t. You should stay at the party, hang out with your friends, stop making everything about him. “Fine,” you say. “But you leave first.”

You end up at his place again. Heeseung is gone for the weekend, so you have the apartment to yourselves. The second the door closes, he’s kissing you, and it feels different somehow. More desperate. Like he’s trying to prove something. “What was that about?” you ask when you break for air.

“What was what about?”

“With Mina.”

“Nothing. She wants to study together.”

“She wants to do more than study.”

He pulls back slightly, looking at you. “Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“You are.” He sounds pleased.

“I’m not—we have rules, Jungwon. You can do whatever you want.”

“So can you.” His jaw tightens. “Didn’t stop me from wanting to punch Marcus when I saw him sitting next to you in the library yesterday.”

“You saw that?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re just study partners.”

“I know.” He kisses you again, softer this time. “This is stupid, right? We shouldn’t be jealous.”

“Right.”

“Because it’s just casual.”

“Exactly.” You’re both quiet for a moment.

“For the record,” he says finally, “I’m not interested in Mina. Or anyone else.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “This—what we have—it works. I don’t want to fuck it up by bringing other people into it.”

Relief washes over you. “Yeah. Same.”

“So… exclusive, then? Just while this is happening?”

“Just while this is happening,” you agree.

“Good.” He kisses you again, and this time when you end up in his bed, it feels different. Slower. More intentional.

He takes his time undressing you, kissing every inch of skin he exposes. When he finally settles between your legs, he looks up at you. “Tell me what you want,” he says.

“You.”

“Be specific.”

“I want—” You’re breathless already and he hasn’t even touched you yet. “I want your mouth.”

“Where?”

“You know where.”

“Say it.” His breath ghosts over your inner thigh.

“My pussy,” you say, face heating. “I want your mouth on my pussy.”

“Good girl.” The praise makes you clench around nothing, and then his tongue is on you and you forget how to think. He’s devastatingly thorough, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, sliding his fingers inside you when you start to squirm. You’re panting, desperate, right on the edge when he stops.

“Jungwon—”

“Want you to come on my cock,” he says, reaching for a condom. He rolls it on and slides into you in one smooth thrust, and you both groan. The angle is perfect, hitting deep, and when he starts to move, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes against your neck. “So wet for me.”

“Don’t stop—”

“Not stopping.” His hand slides between your bodies to rub your clit. “Want to feel you come.”

It doesn’t take long. The combination of his cock and his fingers pushes you over the edge, and you come with a cry, clenching around him. He follows right after, burying his face in your neck as he pulses inside you. You stay like that for a while, catching your breath, his weight comfortable on top of you.

“You’re staying tonight, right?” he asks eventually.

“Yeah,” you say, and you don’t even pretend to think about it. “I’m staying.”

He rolls off you to deal with the condom, and when he comes back, he pulls you against his chest. You let yourself relax into him, listening to his heartbeat slow. This is definitely more than just casual. But neither of you says it out loud.

Three months in, and you’ve gotten good at this. Really good. You and Jungwon have the routine down to an art form. You don’t leave parties together anymore—one of you leaves, the other waits at least half an hour. You vary whose place you go to. You keep your hands to yourselves during group hangouts, no lingering touches or loaded looks. In the group chat, you bicker and joke like you always have.

To everyone else, the initial excitement has worn off. Whatever was happening between you two seems to have fizzled out. Even Reina has stopped making comments. Which is perfect, because it means no one notices that you’re fucking almost every other day.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon in mid-October, and you’re sprawled across various surfaces in Jay and Sunghoon’s apartment. Maya and Jake are tangled together on the loveseat, Liv is rolling a joint at the coffee table, Reina is painting her nails on the floor. The guys are scattered around—Jay and Sunghoon playing FIFA, Heeseung scrolling his phone, Sunoo showing Niki something on his laptop. And Jungwon is sitting across from you in the armchair, looking completely relaxed, like he wasn’t buried inside you this morning before your 9 AM class.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” Reina announces. “Can we order food?”

“It’s three in the afternoon,” Sunghoon says, not looking away from the TV.

“Your point?”

Everyone starts debating what to order, and you catch Jungwon’s eye across the room. He raises an eyebrow slightly, and you know exactly what he’s thinking about. This morning, you pinned against his shower wall, water streaming over both of you, his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet even though Heeseung wasn’t home. You bite your lip and look away before you start smiling like an idiot.

“Earth to Y/N,” Niki says, waving a hand in front of your face. “You alive in there?”

“What? Yeah, sorry.”

“I was asking about that guy you were telling me about.” He grins. “The one from a few weeks ago?”

Your brain stalls. “What guy?”

“You know, when we went to get coffee last week. You were telling me about hooking up with someone and how he was like, insanely good?”

Oh shit. You do vaguely remember that conversation—you and Niki had gotten coffee between classes, and he’d been asking about your dating life, and you’d maybe been too honest about how good the sex had been lately. You’d kept it vague, hadn’t mentioned names, but still. The room has gotten quiet, everyone paying attention now. “Oh,” you say, very aware of Jungwon’s eyes on you. “That was… nothing. Just some guy.”

“Some guy who’s apparently the best fuck you’ve ever had,” Niki says, looking way too entertained. “Those were your exact words.”

“Niki—”

“What? I’m just saying, that’s high praise coming from you.”

Reina sits up straighter. “Wait, hold on. You’ve been holding out on us? Who is this mystery man?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

“Best fuck of your life sounds like a big deal,” Liv points out, though she’s trying not to smile. She’s the only one who knows the truth, and she’s clearly enjoying watching you squirm.

“Are you still seeing him?” Maya asks.

“It’s casual.”

“Is it that guy from your Econ class?” Reina guesses. “The tall one with the man bun?”

“No.”

“The bartender from that club we went to?”

“No.”

“Give us something,” Sunoo pleads dramatically. “We need details.”

You absolutely cannot look at Jungwon. “There are no details. It’s just… casual hookups. Nothing serious.”

“But the sex is good?” Reina presses.

“Yeah,” you admit, because denying it now would be weird. “The sex is really good.”

“How good are we talking?” Heeseung asks. “Like, good good, or like, mind-blowing life-changing good?”

Your face is burning. “Can we please talk about literally anything else?”

“Oh my god, it’s mind-blowing life-changing good,” Reina says gleefully. “Look at her face!”

“I hate all of you.”

“What makes it so good?” Maya asks, genuinely curious. “Like, what’s he doing that’s so different?”

“Maya!”

“What? I’m trying to learn here!”

You risk a glance at Jungwon. He’s very still, expression carefully neutral, but there’s something in his eyes. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused or something else entirely. “He just—” You struggle for words that won’t give anything away. “He pays attention, I guess? Like, he actually cares about getting me off. And he’s… confident. Knows what he’s doing.”

“Size?” Reina asks bluntly.

“Oh my god, Reina!”

“What? It’s a relevant question!”

“I’m not answering that.”

“So it’s good,” she concludes. “Noted.”

“Can we please order food now?” you beg.

Jay takes pity on you. “Yeah, let’s vote. Pizza or Thai?”

The conversation mercifully moves on, and you finally let yourself breathe. But when you glance at Jungwon again, he’s looking at his phone, jaw tight. Shit.

The group ends up ordering pizza, and by the time it arrives, you’ve almost forgotten about the awkward conversation. Almost. You’re halfway through your second slice when your phone buzzes: jungwon: can you come help me with something in the car?

You frown at the message. You all walked here, no one drove. you: what?

jungwon: just come outside for a sec

You make an excuse about needing air and head downstairs. Jungwon is waiting by the building entrance, hands in his pockets. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Really?” He looks at you. “Best fuck of your life?”

Oh. “You’re mad about that?”

“I’m not mad.”

“You sound mad.”

“I’m not—” He runs a hand through his hair. “I just don’t love the idea of you telling Niki about us.”

“I didn’t tell him about us. I kept it vague. He doesn’t know it’s you.”

“But you were talking about me. About our sex life.”

“Is that not allowed?” You cross your arms. “We’re not together, Jungwon. I can talk to my friends.”

“I know that.” His jaw ticks. “I just—forget it.”

“No, what? Say what you’re thinking.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “Did you mean it? What you said up there?”

“About what?”

“About it being the best you’ve had.”

Your stomach flips. “I… yeah. I meant it.”

His expression softens slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You step closer. “Why, did you doubt it?”

“No, I just…” He trails off, looking almost embarrassed. “I liked hearing it, I guess. Even if I wasn’t supposed to be the one hearing it.”

“You’re so weird.”

“You like it,” he says, echoing your texts from months ago.

“Maybe.” You glance back at the building. “We should go back up before someone notices.”

“Wait.” He catches your wrist. “Come over tonight?”

“Jungwon, we just saw each other this morning.”

“So?”

“So we’re supposed to be keeping this low-key.”

“I am keeping it low-key. No one suspects anything anymore.” He tugs you closer. “Please? I want to try something.”

“You always want to try something.”

“And you always like it.” He’s smirking now. “Come on. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

You shouldn’t. You’re supposed to be at the library studying for your midterm tomorrow. But the way he’s looking at you makes your resolve crumble. “Fine. But I can’t stay over. I really do need to study.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

You show up at his apartment at eleven, after spending three hours actually studying with Maya. Heeseung is home this time, playing video games in the living room. “Hey,” he says when you walk in. “Jungwon’s in his room.”

“Cool, thanks.” You’ve been here enough times now that it’s not weird anymore. Heeseung barely looks up when you head down the hall and knock on Jungwon’s door.

“Come in.” He’s at his desk, laptop open, but he closes it when he sees you. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You drop your bag by the door. “What did you want to try?”

“Impatient.”

“I have a midterm at 8 AM. Get to the point.”

He stands and crosses to you, and there’s something different about his energy tonight. More intense. “I want you to tell me exactly what you want.”

“I always tell you what you want.”

“No,” he says. “You tell me when I ask. I want you to take control. Tell me exactly what to do.”

Heat pools in your stomach. “You want me to… boss you around?”

“Yeah.” His hands settle on your hips. “Think you can do that?”

“I—” You’re flustered now. You’re used to him being in charge, confident and directing everything. The idea of flipping that dynamic is…

“You don’t have to,” he says quickly. “If you’re not into it—”

“I’m into it,” you cut him off. “Just… give me a second.” He waits, patient, and you take a breath. You can do this. You’ve been sleeping together for three months. You know what he likes, what makes him fall apart.

“Okay,” you say, and your voice comes out steadier than you feel. “Take off your shirt.” He complies immediately, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.

“Jeans too.” He unbuttons them, pushes them down with his boxers, and kicks them away. He’s already half-hard, and the sight makes your mouth water.

“Lie down on the bed.” He does, and you take a moment to just look at him. He’s gorgeous like this—all lean muscle and smooth skin, cock thickening against his stomach, watching you with dark eyes.

“Touch yourself,” you say. His hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly, and you watch, mesmerized.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask.

“You.” His voice is rough. “Always you.”

“What about me?”

“The way you taste. The sounds you make when you come. How good you feel wrapped around my cock.”

You’re definitely wet now. You start stripping, taking your time, and his eyes track every movement. “You’re so fucking hot,” he breathes.

When you’re naked, you climb onto the bed and straddle his thighs, just out of reach. “Stop touching yourself.” He does, hand falling to his side, and you lean down to kiss him. It’s slow and deep, and when you pull back, his pupils are blown. “I want your mouth,” you say.

“Where?”

“You know where.”

“Say it.” His breath ghosts over your inner thigh.

“My pussy,” you say, face heating. “I want your mouth on my pussy.”

“Good girl.” The praise makes you clench around nothing, and then his tongue is on you and you forget how to think.

You’re straddling his face, thighs bracketing his head. The position makes you feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time. “Eat me out,” you order. “Don’t stop until I come.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His tongue finds your clit immediately, and you gasp, gripping his hair for balance. He’s good at this—you’ve known that since the very first time—but something about being in control makes it even better. “Just like that,” you pant, rolling your hips against his face. “Fuck, your tongue feels so good.”

He groans against you, hands gripping your ass, pulling you down harder. You ride his face shamelessly, chasing your pleasure, and when he slides two fingers inside you, crooking them just right while his tongue works your clit, you actually see stars. “Holy shit,” you gasp, one hand fisted in his hair, the other gripping the sheets.

He adds a second finger, stretching you, and the combination of his mouth and his fingers pumping into you is almost too much. You’re making sounds you’ve never made before, completely uninhibited, and he’s groaning against you like getting you off is getting him off. “Jungwon, I’m—fuck, I’m close—”

He doesn’t change what he’s doing. Doesn’t speed up or switch techniques like so many guys do right when you’re on the edge. He just keeps that same perfect rhythm, fingers curling inside you, tongue circling your clit, and you come harder than you ever have with another person. Your whole body goes taut, thighs clamping around his head as waves of pleasure crash over you. He works you through it, only lightening his touch when you start to squirm from sensitivity.

You’re still trembling when you climb off him, and his face is wet, lips swollen. He looks incredibly pleased with himself. “Good?” he asks.

“So good.” You kiss him, tasting yourself. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

“No?”

“No.” You wrap your hand around his cock, and he hisses. “I want to ride you. But you don’t get to touch me.”

“What?”

“Hands behind your head.” He complies, lacing his fingers behind his head, biceps flexing. You grab a condom from his nightstand and roll it on, and then you’re sinking down onto him, both of you groaning at the sensation.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You feel amazing.”

“No touching,” you remind him when his hands twitch.

“This is torture.”

“This is fun.” You start to move, rolling your hips, finding the angle that makes you both moan. “Watch me.”

He does, eyes glued to where you’re joined, then traveling up to your bouncing breasts, your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Tell me what you want,” you say.

“Want to touch you. Want to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress.”

“Not yet.” You lean back, bracing your hands on his thighs, changing the angle. “Oh fuck—right there—”

“Yeah?” His voice is strained. “That feel good?”

“So good—” You’re close again, which should be impossible but apparently Jungwon has ruined you for anyone else. “I’m gonna come again—”

“Let me see.” His hands are fisted in his hair, knuckles white from the effort of not touching you. “Want to see you fall apart on my cock.” The words push you over the edge. You come with a cry, clenching around him, and he groans.

“Can I touch you now?” he begs. “Please—”

“Yes—”

His hands are on you immediately, gripping your hips, and he thrusts up into you hard. You’re oversensitive and it’s almost too much, but then he’s sitting up, wrapping his arms around you, and kissing you desperately. “You’re incredible,” he pants against your mouth. “Fucking incredible—”

He comes with his face buried in your neck, and you hold him through it, both of you slick with sweat. When you both catch your breath, he flops back onto the bed, bringing you with him. “That was—” he starts.

“Yeah.”

“We should do that again.”

“Definitely.” You glance at the clock and groan. “Shit, I really need to go study.”

“Stay,” he says. “Just for a little bit.”

“Jungwon—”

“Please? We can study together. I have a midterm tomorrow too.”

You should say no. Should go back to your apartment and study alone like you planned. But his arms are around you and you’re comfortable and warm, and maybe staying for an hour won’t hurt. “Fine,” you say. “One hour.” You stay for three.

A week later, you’re at another party—this one at someone’s house off campus. It’s someone’s birthday, you’re not sure whose, but the music is good and the drinks are strong and you’re having fun. You’re in the kitchen with Liv and some people from your Communications class when you see Jungwon walk in with Heeseung and Jake. He spots you immediately, and you quickly look away. You’ve been good about not staring at each other at parties. Good about acting normal.

But then some girl approaches him—blonde, pretty, wearing a crop top that shows off her abs—and you watch as she touches his arm, leans in close to say something in his ear. Your stomach twists.

“You okay?” Liv asks quietly.

“Fine.”

“You’re glaring.”

“I’m not glaring.”

“You’re definitely glaring.” She follows your gaze. “It’s just some random girl. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I know that.”

But when the girl laughs at something Jungwon says, her hand still on his arm, you feel something ugly rise in your chest. This is stupid. You have no claim on him. You’re not together. He can talk to whoever he wants. You turn away and pour yourself another drink.

“Want to go dance?” Liv suggests.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” You spend the next hour on the makeshift dance floor, deliberately not looking for Jungwon, deliberately not caring where he is or who he’s talking to.

It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

You’re getting another drink when you feel someone behind you. “Having fun?” Jungwon’s voice in your ear makes you shiver.

“Yeah. You?”

“It’s alright.” He’s close enough that you can feel his body heat. “Want to get out of here?”

“Busy tonight.”

“Busy with what?”

“Just… busy.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“You tell me.”

You turn to face him. “That girl you were talking to. She was pretty.”

Understanding dawns in his eyes. “Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Liar.” He steps closer. “For the record, she asked for directions. That’s it.”

“I don’t care.”

“You clearly do.” His hand brushes yours. “Come over. Let me prove I only want you.”

You should say no. Should make him work for it. But the look in his eyes makes your resolve crumble. “Fine,” you say. “But you’re leaving first this time.”

By the time you get to his apartment, you’re both frantic. You barely make it inside before you’re tearing at each other’s clothes, kissing desperately. “You drive me crazy,” he mutters against your lips, walking you backward toward his room. “Watching you dance with those guys—”

“I wasn’t dancing with anyone specifically—”

“Didn’t matter. Wanted to punch all of them anyway.” He gets you naked and on his bed, and then he’s between your legs, and this time there’s an edge to it. Like he’s claiming you, proving something. He eats you out until you’re crying, overstimulated and desperate, and then he flips you over.

“On your knees,” he orders, and you comply, ass in the air. He slides into you from behind and you both groan. The angle is deep, almost too much, and when he starts to move, you can barely breathe.

“You feel so good,” he pants, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “So fucking perfect.”

“Harder—”

He complies, fucking into you relentlessly, and you fist the sheets, moaning into the pillow. “No one else gets to have you like this,” he growls, and the possessiveness in his voice shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. “Just me. Right?”

“Yes—fuck—yes—just you—”

One of his hands slides around to rub your clit and you come with a scream, clenching around him. He follows right after, collapsing on top of you.

When you can both move again, he pulls out carefully and you both clean up in silence. There’s something heavy in the air, something unsaid. “Stay,” he says when you start to get dressed.

“I can’t keep staying over, Jungwon. People will notice—”

“I don’t care anymore.” He catches your wrist. “Stay.”

You look at him—really look at him. His hair is a mess, lips swollen from kissing, and he’s looking at you like you’re something precious. This is getting too real. Too intense. You’re supposed to be keeping things casual, but nothing about the way you feel when you’re with him is casual anymore. “Okay,” you say quietly. “I’ll stay.”

He pulls you back into bed, and you curl into his side, listening to his heartbeat slow. “Y/N?” he says after a while.

“Yeah?”

“This thing with us…” He trails off.

Your heart pounds. “What about it?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

But you’re both thinking the same thing. This stopped being casual a long time ago. Neither of you is ready to admit it yet.

November hits campus like a cold slap. The trees are bare, everyone’s walking around in puffer jackets and beanies, and the semester is hitting that point where everyone’s exhausted and stressed and living on coffee and spite.

You’re in Advanced Marketing on a Thursday morning, half-asleep and trying to absorb information about consumer behavior models, when Professor Chen makes an announcement. “Before we start, I want to introduce a new student joining us. This is Daniel Choi—he’s transferring from NYU. Daniel, why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?”

You glance up and—oh. Daniel is tall, with broad shoulders, dark hair styled back, and an easy smile. He’s wearing a navy sweater that probably costs more than your textbooks, and when he speaks, his voice is warm and confident. “Hey everyone. I’m a junior, majoring in Marketing and Communications. Just moved here from New York, so still figuring out the campus. Looking forward to getting to know you all.”

“Wonderful,” Professor Chen says. “Why don’t you take that seat next to Y/N? Y/N, raise your hand?”

You do, reluctantly, and Daniel makes his way over, sliding into the seat beside you. “Hey,” he says, smile widening. “Thanks for letting me sit here.”

“It’s not really my seat to give, but sure.”

He laughs. “Fair point. I’m Daniel.”

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Then Professor Chen launches into the lecture, and you try to focus, but you’re aware of Daniel beside you—the way he takes notes on his laptop, occasionally glancing over at your notebook like he’s comparing, the expensive cologne that’s subtle but noticeable.

When class ends, he turns to you. “Hey, I know this is random, but do you think you could help me out? I’m completely lost on where anything is on this campus.”

“There are maps—”

“I know, but they’re confusing as hell.” He gives you a slightly sheepish look. “And Professor Chen mentioned you’re a great student. I could use someone to show me around, maybe fill me in on what I’ve missed in class so far?”

You should say no. You’re busy. You have your own classes and your friends and your… whatever Jungwon is. But Daniel seems nice, and it’s just showing someone around campus. “Sure,” you find yourself saying. “I have a break after this. I can give you a quick tour.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” His smile is genuinely grateful. “Can I at least buy you coffee?”

You spend the next hour showing Daniel around campus—the library, the student center, the various academic buildings, the good food spots versus the ones to avoid. He’s easy to talk to, asking questions about classes and professors, and he’s funny in a dry, clever way that makes you laugh.

“So NYU to here,” you say as you walk past the quad. “That’s a big change.”

“Yeah.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “My dad got relocated for work, and the family moved. Figured I’d come with them rather than stay in New York alone. Plus, cheaper tuition as an in-state student.”

“That’s fair. How are you liking it so far?”

“Campus is nice. People seem cool.” He glances at you. “Present company especially.” It’s flirty but not obnoxiously so, and you feel your face warm slightly.

“Wait until you experience your first real winter here,” you say, deflecting. “Then we’ll see if you still think it’s nice.”

“I’m from New York. I can handle cold.”

“This is different. This is Midwest cold. The kind that hurts your face.”

He laughs. “I’ll take your word for it.”

You show him a few more buildings, and by the time you’re done, your break is almost over. “This was really helpful,” Daniel says. “Seriously, thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Can I get your number? In case I have questions about class or campus stuff?” It’s innocent enough. Just a new student wanting help navigating. You give him your number. “Thanks.” He saves it in his phone. “I’ll see you next class?”

“Yeah, see you.” You watch him walk away, and you’re surprised to find yourself smiling a little.

You don’t think much about Daniel over the next few days. You’re busy with midterms and work and your friends. And Jungwon. Especially Jungwon.

You’ve been spending even more time together lately—studying at his place, grabbing food between classes, and obviously still hooking up regularly. It’s gotten to the point where you have a toothbrush at his apartment and he has spare clothes at yours. It should worry you how domestic it’s becoming. It doesn’t.

You’re at his place on Saturday night, both of you on his bed with your laptops, supposedly working on separate assignments but really just procrastinating together. “I’m so sick of this essay,” you groan, flopping backward.

“How much do you have left?”

“Like, three pages.”

“That’s not bad.”

“It’s three pages I don’t want to write.” You roll over to look at him. “Entertain me.”

“I’m busy.”

“No you’re not. You’ve been on the same paragraph for twenty minutes.”

He closes his laptop with a sigh. “Fine. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Something that isn’t homework.”

He shifts closer, hand sliding up your thigh. “I can think of something.”

“We literally had sex an hour ago.”

“So?”

You laugh and push his hand away. “You’re insatiable.”

“Only with you.” He’s smiling but there’s something in his eyes that makes your chest tight.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You reach for it and see a text from an unknown number.

unknown: hey! it’s daniel from marketing class. hope this isn’t weird but i had a question about the assignment due next week?

You smile and save his contact. you: not weird at all! what’s your question?

“Who’s that?” Jungwon asks, and there’s an edge to his voice.

“New guy in my marketing class. He transferred from NYU.”

“And he’s texting you?”

“He had a question about the assignment.” You glance at Jungwon. “Why?”

“No reason.” But his jaw is tight, and you recognize that look. He’s jealous.

Your phone buzzes again. daniel: professor chen mentioned something about a group project? do you know if groups are assigned or if we pick our own?

you: we pick our own! usually groups of 3-4. i can add you to mine if you want? we still need one more person

daniel: that would be amazing. thank you! also totally unrelated but are you free tomorrow? wanted to check out that coffee place you mentioned and could use the company

You hesitate. It’s just coffee. Daniel is nice, and he’s new and doesn’t know anyone. It would be rude to say no. you: sure! i’m free around 2?

daniel: perfect. i’ll meet you there

You set your phone down and find Jungwon staring at you. “What?”

“You’re getting coffee with him?”

“He’s new. He doesn’t know anyone. I’m being nice.”

“Right. Nice.” He doesn’t sound convinced.

“Jungwon, it’s just coffee.”

“Does he know that?”

“Know what?”

“That it’s ‘just coffee.’ Or does he think it’s a date?”

You sit up. “It’s not a date. We’re literally just getting coffee. Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“You clearly do.”

“I just—” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Never mind. Do whatever you want.”

“I am doing whatever I want. That’s kind of the point of this arrangement, remember?”

The words come out harsher than you intended, and something flashes across his face—hurt, maybe, or anger, you can’t tell. “Right,” he says quietly. “The arrangement.”

The air between you feels heavy, wrong. You want to take it back, to explain that you don’t actually want to get coffee with Daniel, that you’d rather spend tomorrow with Jungwon like you spend most days. But you don’t say any of that. “I should go,” you say instead, closing your laptop. “It’s late.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I have an early class tomorrow anyway.” You gather your stuff quickly, and Jungwon doesn’t try to stop you. When you leave, he doesn’t ask you to stay like he usually does. You tell yourself it’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Coffee with Daniel is actually really nice. He’s waiting outside the café when you arrive, and he lights up when he sees you. “Hey! Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

Inside, the place is cozy and warm, smelling like espresso and cinnamon. You order your usual and Daniel gets some complicated drink with like five different modifiers. “High maintenance,” you tease as you find a table by the window.

“I know what I like,” he says, grinning. “Can’t fault me for that.”

You spend the next hour just talking. He tells you about growing up in New York, his family, his friends back home. He asks about your life, your major, your friends. He’s a good listener, asking follow-up questions, seeming genuinely interested. It’s easy. Comfortable. And he’s cute—you can’t deny that. The way he smiles, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs. The way he leans forward when you’re talking, giving you his full attention.

“So,” he says eventually, stirring his drink. “Do you have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or… partner? I don’t want to assume.”

Your stomach drops. “I—no. Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” He raises an eyebrow, curious, not pushy.

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

You shouldn’t tell him. It’s none of his business. But something about the way he’s looking at you, open and interested, makes you want to talk about it. “There’s this guy,” you say slowly. “We’ve been… hooking up. For a few months now. It’s supposed to be casual but lately it feels like…”

“Like it’s not casual anymore?” Daniel finishes.

“Yeah.”

“Does he know you feel that way?”

“I don’t know. We don’t really talk about it.” You take a sip of your coffee. “It’s stupid. We had rules. No feelings, no complications. And I’m the one who’s complicating it.”

“Feelings aren’t stupid,” Daniel says gently. “And if he’s worth anything, he feels the same way.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Then he’s an idiot.” He smiles. “For what it’s worth, any guy who has you and doesn’t want more is definitely an idiot.”

It’s sweet. Maybe a little too sweet, a little too flirty, but you find yourself smiling back. “Thanks, Daniel.”

“Anytime.” He checks his phone. “Shit, I have to go. Meeting my parents for dinner. But this was really fun. We should do it again?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Cool.” He stands, shrugging on his jacket. “See you in class Tuesday?”

“See you then.” You watch him leave, and you’re not sure how to feel. Daniel is nice. He’s attractive and smart and funny, and he’s clearly interested in you. But he’s not Jungwon. Your phone buzzes.

jungwon: you busy tonight?

You stare at the message for a long moment before typing back. you: studying with maya. why?

It’s a lie. You don’t have plans. But you need space to think, to figure out what you’re doing.

jungwon: nothing. just wanted to see you. have fun studying

The guilt sits heavy in your chest.

You avoid Jungwon for the next few days. It’s not hard—you claim you’re busy with midterms and assignments, which is partially true. But really, you just need time to sort through your feelings.

Because the truth is, you’re falling for him. Have been falling for him for months now. And the idea of telling him and having him not feel the same way, of losing what you have, terrifies you. So you throw yourself into other things. Classes. Assignments. Your friends. And Daniel.

He texts you throughout the week—memes, questions about class, random observations about campus life. It’s friendly and light and uncomplicated. You tell yourself that’s why you respond, why you agree to study together in the library, why you sit next to him in Marketing and laugh at his whispered jokes during lectures. But you know that’s not entirely true. You know you’re using Daniel as a distraction. And it’s not fair to him.

On Thursday, you’re leaving your Marketing class with Daniel when you run into the group. Literally—you turn a corner and almost collide with Maya and Jake.

“Oh! Hey!” Maya says, then notices Daniel. “Who’s this?”

“This is Daniel. He’s new. Daniel, this is Maya and Jake.”

“Nice to meet you,” Daniel says, friendly and charming.

“You too,” Maya says, but she’s giving you a look. “We’re all getting lunch. You want to come?”

“Oh, um—”

“You should definitely come,” Jake says. “Whole group’s gonna be there.” Your stomach sinks. Whole group means Jungwon.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Daniel starts.

“You’re not intruding,” Maya insists. “The more the merrier. Right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you say weakly.

Lunch is at the student center food court, and by the time you arrive with Daniel, everyone else is already there—Maya and Jake, Liv and Reina, Jay and Sunghoon, Heeseung and Sunoo and Niki. And Jungwon. He’s sitting at the end of the table, and when he sees you walk in with Daniel, something shutters in his expression.

“Everyone, this is Daniel,” you announce. “He just transferred here.”

Everyone introduces themselves, welcoming and friendly, and Daniel fits in easily. He’s charming and funny, and within minutes, he’s got Reina laughing at some story about his first week on campus. You sit across from Jungwon, and the tension is suffocating.

“So Daniel,” Sunghoon says. “Where’d you transfer from?”

“NYU.”

“Damn, that’s a downgrade,” Heeseung jokes, and everyone laughs.

“I don’t know,” Daniel says, and his hand brushes yours on the table. “I’m liking it here so far.” The touch is casual, probably meaningless. But Jungwon’s eyes lock onto it, and his jaw clenches.

“How do you and Y/N know each other?” Niki asks.

“We have Marketing together,” you say quickly. “I’ve been helping him get caught up.”

“Y/N’s been a lifesaver,” Daniel adds. “Don’t know what I’d do without her.” It’s innocent. Friendly. But the way he’s looking at you is… not. And Jungwon sees it.

“That’s nice,” Jungwon says, voice flat. “Y/N’s good at helping people.” There’s an undercurrent there that makes you flinch.

The conversation moves on, everyone eating and talking, but you’re hyperaware of Jungwon across from you. He’s barely touched his food, just pushing it around his plate, and every time Daniel says something that makes you smile, Jungwon’s expression gets darker.

“So Y/N,” Reina says. “You still seeing that mystery guy? The one who’s so good in bed?”

You want to die. “Reina—”

“What? I’m just asking!”

“What mystery guy?” Daniel asks, curious.

“There’s no mystery guy,” you say firmly. “Reina’s making stuff up.”

“I’m literally not. You told Niki about him.”

“That was months ago.”

“So you’re not seeing anyone?” Daniel asks, and there’s hope in his voice.

Before you can answer, Jungwon stands abruptly. “I gotta go. Got class.”

“But we just sat down,” Heeseung protests.

“I forgot I have to talk to my professor about something.” He grabs his bag and leaves without looking at you. The table goes quiet for a beat.

“What’s up with him?” Jake asks.

“No idea,” Sunoo says, but he’s looking at you thoughtfully.

“Maybe he’s not feeling well,” Maya suggests.

You know that’s not it. You know exactly what’s wrong. “I should—” You start to stand. “I should check on him.”

“Why?” Reina asks.

“Because we’re friends. And he seemed upset.”

“I’ll come with you,” Daniel offers.

“No,” you say, too quickly. “I mean—you should stay. Finish eating. I’ll be right back.”

You don’t wait for a response before hurrying after Jungwon. You catch him outside the building, heading toward the parking lot. “Jungwon, wait!” He stops but doesn’t turn around. “What was that?” you ask when you reach him.

“What was what?”

“You know what. Walking out like that.”

He finally turns to face you, and the look in his eyes makes your chest hurt. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N.”

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“You really don’t know?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You show up with that guy, he’s all over you, looking at you like—” He breaks off, running a hand through his hair. “And you’re just letting it happen.”

“He’s not all over me. We’re friends.”

“Does he know that? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like he thinks you’re something more.”

“Even if he did, why do you care? We’re not together, remember? That’s the whole point.”

“Right,” he says bitterly. “The arrangement. How could I forget?”

“Jungwon—”

“Are you into him?”

The question catches you off guard. “What?”

“Daniel. Are you into him?”

“I—no. Not like that.”

“But you could be.” It’s not a question. “If things were different. If we weren’t…” He gestures between you, unable to finish the sentence.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “Maybe. He’s nice. And he’s—”

“Uncomplicated,” Jungwon finishes. “He’s not sneaking around. He could actually take you on dates, be seen with you, give you what you want.”

“What I want?”

“More.” He steps closer. “You want more than this, Y/N. I can see it. And I can’t—”

He stops, and your heart is pounding. “You can’t what?”

“I can’t give you that.” His voice is rough. “This—us—it’s supposed to be casual. No strings. That’s what we agreed.”

“And what if I don’t want casual anymore?” The words tumble out before you can stop them. “What if I want more?”

He stares at you, and for a moment you think he’s going to say it—that he wants more too, that this has been killing him the same way it’s been killing you. But then he looks away. “I can’t,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

It feels like the ground has been pulled out from under you. “Right,” you manage. “Okay.”

“It’s fine.” You’re backing away, fighting tears. “You’re right. This was always supposed to be casual. My mistake for thinking it could be anything else.”

“That’s not—”

“I should get back. Everyone’s waiting.” You turn and walk away before he can say anything else, before you completely fall apart in front of him.

When you get back to the table, Daniel takes one look at your face and frowns. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “Just… tired. Long week.”

“Want me to walk you home?”

You should say no. Should put some distance between you and Daniel before this gets messy. But you’re hurt and angry and you don’t want to be alone. “Yeah,” you say. “That’d be nice.”

As you leave with Daniel, you don’t see Jungwon watching from across the quad, hands shoved in his pockets, looking like his world just fell apart.

You don’t talk to Jungwon for the rest of the week. He texts a few times— casual messages asking how you are, if you want to study, if you’re okay. You respond with short, noncommittal answers.

The group notices. How could they not? You and Jungwon have been attached at the hip for months, and suddenly you can barely be in the same room. “What happened between you two?” Liv asks when you’re alone in your apartment.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been miserable all week.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You’re avoiding him. And he’s been moping around like someone kicked his puppy.” You don’t answer, just stare at your laptop screen without actually seeing it. “Did something happen with Daniel?” she presses gently.

“No. Daniel’s just a friend.”

“Does Jungwon know that?”

“It doesn’t matter what Jungwon thinks.”

Liv is quiet for a moment. “You should talk to him. Actually talk. Because this? This is worse than whatever you’re avoiding.”

You know she’s right. But you’re scared. Scared that if you talk to Jungwon, you’ll have to end things for real. That you’ll have to accept that he doesn’t want what you want, that these past few months have meant something completely different to him than they have to you.

So you do what you’ve been doing—you avoid him. And you spend more time with Daniel.

It’s Friday night, and there’s a party at some senior’s house. You show up with Liv and Reina, already a few drinks in from pregaming, and the place is packed. You lose your friends almost immediately in the crowd. You’re making your way to the kitchen when you spot Daniel. “Hey!” He brightens when he sees you. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it.” You’re definitely drunker than you thought. “Having fun?”

“More fun now.” He hands you a drink. “Here. It’s strong, fair warning.” You take it and down half of it in one go. “Rough week?” he asks.

“Something like that.”

The music is loud, bass thumping through your chest, and Daniel leans in closer to be heard. “Want to go somewhere quieter? Maybe talk?”

You should say no. You know where this is going, and it’s not fair to Daniel or to yourself or to— “Sure,” you say.

He leads you upstairs, finding an empty bedroom, and closes the door behind you. It muffles the music, making it easier to hear. “Better?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He sits on the bed and you sit next to him, suddenly very aware that you’re alone together in a bedroom. “Can I ask you something?” Daniel says.

“Sure.”

“That guy you mentioned. The complicated one. Is it… are you still involved with him?”

You take another sip of your drink. “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s complicated.”

“Does he know how you feel?”

“I told him. He made it pretty clear he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Then he’s an idiot.” Daniel shifts closer. “Because you’re incredible, Y/N. Smart and funny and beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to be with you.”

“Daniel—”

“I like you,” he says. “I know we just met, and maybe the timing is shit, but I really like you. And if this other guy can’t see what he has, then…”

He trails off, and then he’s leaning in, and you realize he’s going to kiss you. You should stop him. You should explain that you’re not over Jungwon, that you’re not in a place to start something new.

But you’re drunk and hurt and you want to feel wanted by someone who isn’t afraid to show it. So you let him kiss you. It’s nice. He’s a good kisser— soft lips, careful hands, nothing like—

The door opens. “Y/N, Liv’s looking for—” Jungwon stops dead in the doorway.

You jerk back from Daniel, but it’s too late. Jungwon saw. And the look on his face— betrayal and hurt and anger all mixed together—makes your stomach drop. “Jungwon—”

“Sorry,” he says, voice tight. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

He’s gone before you can say anything else, door slamming behind him. “Shit,” you breathe.

“Who was that?” Daniel asks.

“I—” You stand up, suddenly feeling very sober. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“Y/N, wait—” But you’re already out the door, pushing through the crowded hallway, trying to find Jungwon. You catch him on the front porch, about to leave.

“Jungwon, wait!” He stops, shoulders tense, but doesn’t turn around. “It’s not— that wasn’t—”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” he says, finally facing you. “You can kiss whoever you want.”

“It didn’t mean anything—”

“Didn’t it?” His eyes are hard. “Looked like it meant something.”

“I was just—I was upset and drunk and he was there—”

“And I wasn’t,” Jungwon finishes. “Because you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

“You told me you couldn’t give me more! What did you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know!” He’s yelling now, and a few people on the porch are staring. “I don’t know, Y/N. But I didn’t expect you to move on in a fucking week.”

“I’m not moving on! And even if I was, why do you care? You made it clear you don’t want—”

“I never said I didn’t want—” He breaks off, jaw clenched. “Fuck.”

“What? You never said you didn’t want what?”

“You!” The word explodes out of him. “I never said I didn’t want you. I said I couldn’t give you more, and that’s different.”

You stare at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that I’m terrified, okay?” His voice cracks. “I’m terrified because this stopped being casual for me months ago, and I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be what you need.”

Your heart is pounding so hard you think it might burst out of your chest. “Jungwon—”

“I see the way Daniel looks at you. Like you’re everything. And I want to be that guy— the one who can take you on dates and hold your hand in public and tell everyone you’re mine. But I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. That I’ll lose you completely.”

“So instead you’re losing me anyway,” you say quietly. He flinches like you hit him. “I’m falling for you,” you continue, and the words feel like jumping off a cliff. “I’ve been falling for you for months. And it’s been killing me because I thought you didn’t feel the same way.”

“I do,” he says desperately. “I do feel the same way. I just—”

“You just what?”

“I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“Jungwon, we’ve already ruined it. Pretending we can keep things casual when we both feel more—that’s what’s ruining it.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and you can see him struggling with something. “If we do this,” he says finally, “if we make this real— what if it doesn’t work? What if we end up hating each other?”

“What if we don’t?” you counter. “What if it’s amazing?”

“What about the group? If things go bad—”

“We’ll figure it out. But Jungwon, I’d rather try and fail than spend the rest of my life wondering what if.”

He looks at you like he’s trying to memorize your face, and then— “Fuck it,” he mutters, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s different from every other kiss you’ve shared. More desperate, more meaningful. Like he’s pouring everything he couldn’t say into it.

When you break apart, you’re both breathless. “So,” you manage. “Does this mean—”

“It means I want to be with you. For real. No more hiding, no more pretending.” He cups your face in his hands. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Even the group?”

“Especially the group.” He smiles, and it’s tentative but real. “They probably already know anyway.”

You laugh, and it feels like relief. “Probably.”

“What about Daniel?”

“I’ll talk to him. Explain. But Jungwon, there’s nothing there. It’s always been you.”

“Yeah?” His smile widens.

“Yeah.” He kisses you again, softer this time, and you hear whooping from inside the house. You break apart to find half your friend group watching from the window—Reina and Liv and Maya and the guys all grinning like idiots.

“FINALLY!” Reina screams, and everyone laughs. Jungwon pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, and for the first time in weeks, everything feels right.

“So,” he murmurs against your hair. “Want to get out of here? I think we have some things to talk about.”

“And by talk you mean—”

“Actually talk,” he says, pulling back to look at you. “We should probably figure out how to actually do this relationship thing.”

“We should,” you agree. “But maybe we can do the talking back at your place? I’m still kind of drunk and these heels are killing me.” He laughs and takes your hand— openly, for everyone to see— and leads you toward his car.

As you leave, you glance back at the house and catch Daniel watching from the doorway. He looks sad but understanding, and he raises his cup in a small salute. You mouth “sorry,” and he nods. You’ll explain everything to him later. Right now, you just want to be with Jungwon.

You wake up to sunlight streaming through Jungwon’s window and his arm draped across your waist. For a moment, you just lie there, listening to his steady breathing, trying to process that this is real now. You’re actually dating Jungwon. Your phone buzzes— multiple times. You reach for it and find the group chat exploding.

reina: SO ARE WE GONNA TALK ABOUT LAST NIGHT OR

maya: I KNEW IT

liv: you all owe me $20 btw

jay: jungwon if you hurt her i’m fighting you

you: good morning to you too

reina: GOOD MORNING??? THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY???

you: yes we’re official

reina: EXTREMELY

you: and we’ve been hooking up since that party in august

heeseung: AUGUST?????

reina: I FUCKING KNEW IT

Jungwon stirs beside you, eyes fluttering open. When he sees you, he smiles— soft and sleepy and genuine. “Morning,” he says, voice rough.

“Morning.” You show him your phone. “We’re famous.”

He scrolls through, laughing. “They’re ridiculous.”

jungwon: i’m not going to hurt her

jay: good

reina: now that that’s settled TELL US EVERYTHING

The “mandatory celebration” ends up being at Jay and Sunghoon’s that evening. By the time you and Jungwon arrive— together, holding hands— everyone else is already there. “THERE THEY ARE!” Reina shouts. “The happy couple!”

Maya rushes over to hug you. “I’m so happy for you!”

Jake hands you both drinks. “So, real talk. How long have you actually had feelings for each other?”

“I’ve liked her since before we started hooking up,” Jungwon says. “Remember that party in July? When you wore that black dress?”

Your face is burning. “You never said anything.”

He shrugs. “I didn’t think you were interested. And then the bet happened and… well, you know the rest.”

“What about you?” Liv asks.

“Probably that first morning after,” you admit. “When we were texting about the arrangement and he was being all careful. That’s when I started thinking he might be different.”

Several drinks later, everyone’s sprawled around the living room. You’re tucked into Jungwon’s side on the couch, and it feels so natural. “Real talk,” Jay says, tone serious. “I’m happy for you guys. But—” He looks at Jungwon. “—you hurt her, and we have a problem.”

“I know. And I’m not going to hurt her. I’m—” He looks at you. “—I’m in love with her.”

The room goes silent. Your heart stops. “What?” you whisper.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. I was just too scared to say it.”

“I love you too, you idiot.” You’re shaking your head. “I’ve been in love with you for months.” His smile is brilliant. He kisses you, and this time it’s softer, more tender.

“Okay, we’re leaving,” Reina announces. “Before this gets too cute.”

After everyone leaves, you and Jungwon stay on the couch. “I meant what I said,” he murmurs. “About loving you.”

“I meant it too.” You shift to straddle his lap. “I love you, Jungwon.”

He cuts you off with a kiss. “Want to go home?”

You end up at his place. The second you’re inside, he’s on you, kissing you with urgency. “Bedroom,” you gasp.

“Too far.” He lifts you, carries you to the couch. You land in a tangle of limbs, laughing, then his mouth is on your neck. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“Show me,” you challenge.

He does. He takes his time undressing you, kissing every inch of skin. When you’re both finally naked, he hovers over you. “This is different now. Better,” he says. “I get to keep you.”

“You always had me.”

“I know. But now I don’t have to pretend I don’t want forever.”

“Forever?”

“Too soon?”

“No.” You pull him down. “Not too soon.”

He makes love to you slowly, thoroughly. More intimate. More real. Every touch feels like a confession. He enters you with a groan, and you wrap your legs around him. The rhythm is unhurried, sensual. He angles his hips just right, and his hand slides between your bodies to rub your clit. “God, you feel so perfect,” he breathes. “So tight and wet for me.”

“Jungwon— fuck— don’t stop—” He doesn’t. He keeps that perfect pace until you’re trembling. When you come, clenching around him, he follows right after with a moan of your name.

When you’re both spent on his couch, you feel something settle in your chest. “We should move to the bed,” he says eventually.

“Heeseung’s going to be home soon.” You gather clothes and make it to his room. “Stay,” he says.

“Obviously.” You curl into his side. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The next morning, you wake to Jungwon’s alarm. Your head is pounding. “Turn it off,” you groan.

“We have brunch in an hour.”

Forty-five minutes later— after a shower where Jungwon pressed you against the tile and made you come on his fingers— you’re dressed and heading to the diner. You walk in holding hands. The sight of your friend group crammed into booths makes you smile.

“There they are!” Maya calls. You slide in next to Liv, Jungwon beside you, arm over your shoulders.

“So,” Sunoo says. “Now that you guys are official, does this mean we have to watch you be gross?”

“We’re not going to be gross,” you protest.

Jungwon immediately kisses your cheek. “Can’t promise that.”

“How long did you actually know?” you ask.

“I knew from the start,” Liv says. “You’re my roommate. You think I didn’t notice when you’d come home at 3 AM with hickeys?”

The conversation shifts to other topics, and it’s easy. Normal. Like nothing’s changed except now you don’t have to hide.

Later that day, you’re back at Jungwon’s, on the couch watching a movie. “Can I ask you something?” he says.

“Always.”

“Why did you kiss Daniel?”

“Honestly? I was drunk and hurt and he was there. It was stupid.”

“Did you… were you interested in him?”

“No.” You shift to look at him. “He’s nice, but I was so hung up on you.”

“Good.” He kisses you. “Because I was losing my mind.”

“Every time I was with him, I kept thinking about you.”

“You have me now.” His arms tighten. “For as long as you want me.”

“Forever, remember?”

“Forever,” he agrees.

“Want to order food and spend the rest of the day in bed?”

“Is that code for something?”

“Food, bed, probably some making out, definitely a nap.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Later that night, after Chinese food and another round of sex— with you riding him while he gripped your hips and watched you with dark eyes— you’re lying in his bed. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

“For what?”

“For being brave enough to tell me how you felt. I would have lost you if you hadn’t.”

“You wouldn’t have lost me. I was too far gone.”

“Speaking of which,” he says. “You could just keep some more stuff here. Make it official.”

“Jungwon, we’ve been officially dating for less than 24 hours.”

“So? We’ve been unofficially together for months.”

He has a point. “Fine. I’ll bring some stuff over tomorrow.” And he’s grinning from ear to ear

Three weeks later, you’re at another party— pre-Thanksgiving. This time, everything’s different. You and Jungwon arrive together, hands intertwined. When he pulls you onto the dance floor, you don’t worry about who’s watching. “Having fun?” he asks.

“So much fun.” You loop your arms around his neck. “This is better than hiding.”

“Way better.” He kisses you.

Later, in the kitchen, Daniel approaches. You haven’t really talked since that night. “Hey,” he says. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” Jungwon gives your hand a squeeze and steps away.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Daniel starts. “For that night. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should have been clearer. It wasn’t fair to you.”

“It’s okay. I get it now.” He glances at Jungwon. “That’s him, right?”

“Yeah. Not so complicated anymore.”

“Good. You seem happy.”

“I am. Really happy.” You hesitate. “Are we okay?”

“We’re okay. Friends?”

“Friends,” you agree.

He leaves, and Jungwon returns to your side. “That looked like it went well.”

“It did.” You lean into him. “Everything’s good.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Everything’s really good.”

You stay like that, watching your friends scattered around— your family. And Jungwon, solid and warm behind you. “I love you,” you say.

“I love you too.” He kisses your neck. “Want to get out of here?”

“And do what?”

“Go back to my place. Watch a movie. Make out. Order food. Fall asleep together. All the boring couple stuff.”

“That sounds perfect.” You say goodbye to your friends and head out.

“Your place or mine?” Jungwon asks.

“Yours. I already have a toothbrush there.”

He grins. “Look at us, being all domestic.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“You love it.”

“I really do.”

As he drives through the quiet streets, his hand finds yours, and you think about how different things were just months ago. When you were both pretending, both scared, both holding back. And now you’re here. Together. For real. “What are you thinking about?” Jungwon asks.

“Just… how happy I am. How glad I am that we figured this out.”

“Me too.” He brings your joined hands up to kiss your knuckles. “Best decision I ever made.”

“Proving you could make me come?”

He laughs. “No. Although that was a good decision too. I meant taking a chance on this. On us.”

“We both took a chance.”

“And it paid off.”

“Yeah,” you agree softly. “It really did.”

Back at his apartment, you fall into your routine— changing into his drawer of your clothes, brushing teeth side by side, collapsing onto his bed. “Movie?” he asks.

“Sure. Nothing too intense though.” He puts on a comedy, and you curl into his side. This is your favorite part. Not the sex— though that’s amazing— but this. The quiet moments. The casual intimacy.

“Hey Y/N?” Jungwon says softly.

“Hmm?”

“I’m really glad you’re mine.”

You lift your head. “I’m glad I’m yours too. And that you’re mine.”

“Always,” he promises, and kisses you.

Lying there in his arms, warm and safe and loved, you believe him. This is just the beginning. And you can’t wait to see where it goes.