leaderwon

[leaderwon]

CHAPTER 67 — BODYGUARD

Synopsis :- In a world where lovers are destined and written by fate, You hated the idea of a soulmate, or maybe you just hated him. Jake wanted a soulmate, a lover to be with for the rest of eternity. Just not you. Not wanting eachother, the both of you occupy yourself with someone else. But the universe had other plans.

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© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[leaderwon]

im back from the dead

[leaderwon]

hate that updates will be late for 2 weeks! got mid terms

[leaderwon]

“BREAKUP TEXTS (OR NOT)”

wherein you break up with enhypen just for the feels

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[leaderwon]

CHAPTER 66 — starting a religion

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The early afternoon sun cast a soft warmth over the courtyard pavement. A light breeze passed through the trees, making the campus feel oddly calm despite the noise of students scattering between lectures.

You walked with steady steps, one earbud in, the other dangling from your hoodie. The music didn’t help much, your thoughts still spiraled quietly. You weren’t thinking of anything in particular. Maybe that was the problem.

Then you heard it.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t stop. Not at first.

Your spine stiffened slightly, your hand clenched around the strap of your bag. But eventually, you slowed down, pulled the earbud out, and turned around.

Jake stood a few feet behind you, breathing a little too fast for such a short jog.

He looked like he hadn’t slept well. Hoodie sleeves pushed halfway up his arms, hair messily curling at the ends, like he hadn’t even bothered to fix it this morning. He used to look effortless. Now he just looked tired.

You didn’t say anything.

“I just… can we talk?” he asked, voice cautious. “Please.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You keep asking that. What exactly is left to say?” “I don’t know. I just—” He paused. “I can’t leavethings like this.”

You gave a short, humorless laugh.

“You should’ve thought about that before you became laylalvr.” He flinched. “I didn’t mean for it to get that far—” “Don’t.”

Your voice was quiet. But it stopped him mid sentence.

“You didn’t mean for a lot of things,” you said. “You didn’t mean to lie. You didn’t mean to break trust. You didn’t mean to betray someone who literally grew up with you.”

You looked at him straight on. No drama. No yelling.

Just facts.

He shifted on his feet. “I didn’t know how else to reach you.” “That’s the thing, Jake” you said, folding your arms. “You weren’t trying to reach me. You were trying to get the version of me that made you feel less guilty.”

Silence stretched between you for a moment. Students walked past without looking. Time moved normally. But for you, this felt suspended — like something stuck between two lives.

“I miss you” Jake said, barely above a whisper.

You blinked. The weight of those words hit your chest — but not in the way he wanted.

“You don’t get to say that like it means something,” you replied. “Missing someone doesn’t fix what you did to them.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“I’m not trying to be cruel,” you continued. “I just don’t have anything left to give you. Not after all this.”

Jake looked down at the ground. His hands had balled into fists.

“I never wanted to lose you” he muttered.

You nodded once. Not sarcastically. Just... knowingly.

“I think that’s the only thing we have in common right now.”

You adjusted your bag again. Stepped back and this time, you didn’t hesitate.

You turned and walked toward the lecture hall. The doors opened easily. The hallway swallowed you up.

And behind you, Jake didn’t follow. He just stood there.

With words that weren’t enough, and a mark on his collarbone that wouldn’t stop fading.

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[leaderwon]

THE DEAL

where in — what started as a lie, begins to feel like home ... 1.1k+

luna's diary : happy belated birthday my bbg @jjennuine. I love you so so so much and i hope we get closer 🫶🏻 this was hella rushed but I hope you like it ><

Jay’s place isn’t what you expected.

It’s cleaner, warmer. The soft smell of cedarwood clings to the corners of the apartment like it belongs there, like he belongs there and that’s a problem because you weren’t supposed to find any of this comforting.

You set your bag down by the shoe rack and mutter, “You seriously keep your shoes this lined up all the time?” Jay gives you a look like he’s not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult. “It’s called order” he says. “You should try it sometime.”

You scoff and toss your hoodie onto the back of his couch, just to annoy him.

It started as a joke. A half serious joke over overpriced iced americanos and the kind of tired only family pressure brings.

Jay’s parents were pushing him toward an arranged marriage. You were getting kicked out of your apartment. So naturally, the most logical solution?

“Live with me” he said, like it was a normal suggestion. “And what, fake date you too?” you asked, half laughing. “Exactly.”

The deal was simple. You’d move in for three months and pretend to be Jay’s loving partner whenever his family was around. In exchange, you’d get free rent, warm meals, and access to his Netflix. It felt ridiculous at the time. Easy, too easy.

What could possibly go wrong?

Three weeks in, the answer is becoming clear : you’re forgetting it’s supposed to be fake.

It’s not that living with Jay is hard. He’s clean, quiet, and surprisingly thoughtful. He texts you if he’s running late, labels the leftovers in the fridge, and always hands you the remote without arguing.

But it’s the little things that mess you up.

He always remembers how you take your coffee. He buys your favorite snacks when he’s out. He leaves sticky notes on the fridge like “your juice is back :)” and doesn’t make a big deal about it.

He doesn’t act like someone playing a part. He acts like someone who actually cares.

And that’s dangerous.

The night before the dinner with his parents, you’re curled up on the couch next to him. There’s a drama playing but neither of you are really watching it.

Jay is fiddling with the edge of the blanket between you, his fingers brushing yours every now and then like it’s nothing.

“Okay” he says eventually. “Let’s go over the story again.” You nod. “We’ve been dating for five months. Met through mutual friends. First date was at that café I like.” “The one with the cinnamon buns you won’t shut up about?” he says, teasing, but there’s a smile in his voice. You laugh. “They’re life changing.” He grins. “I know. You’ve told me like ten times.”

You nudge his arm gently, the blanket slipping further down your legs. “Okay, what else?” “We’re serious but taking it slow. We don’t fight in front of them. If my dad asks about the future, say we’re still figuring it out.” He pauses for a second. “And if they ask if we’re in love…”

He trails off, like he doesn’t want to finish the sentence.

You look at him. “I’ll say yes.”

Jay meets your eyes. There’s a flicker of something there you don’t want to name. “Cool,” he says softly. “Just making sure.”

Dinner is too easy.

His dad laughs at your jokes. His mom keeps saying how relaxed Jay looks when you’re around. You play your part well, laughing, brushing imaginary lint off his shirt, stealing little glances that feel too natural.

Jay is even better. He touches your back gently as he pulls out your chair, leans in close to whisper something stupid that still makes you smile, holds your hand under the table and doesn’t let go, even when he’s talking.

You almost forget it’s all pretend.

And then his mom says, “I hope you two stay together. I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

It knocks the air out of your chest.

You smile through it, say something polite. But all you can hear is that word — happy. All you can think about is how it’s starting to feel real.

The car ride home is quiet.

Jay doesn’t speak and you don’t either. It’s not tense but it’s not light either. You’re both holding something in but neither of you seems brave enough to say it.

Back at the apartment, you kick your shoes off, head straight for the kitchen and lean against the counter. The silence settles again.

Jay comes out of his room a few minutes later, dressed in sweats, his hair slightly damp. He leans against the hallway wall, arms crossed, watching you.

You finally say, “Why are you so good at this?” He tilts his head. “Good at what?” “This. All of it. The acting. The little gestures. The way you held my hand like you meant it.”

Jay doesn’t move for a second. Then, he steps forward slowly.

“I’m not acting.” You blink. “What?”

Jay looks at you fully now, like he’s done holding it in.

“I’m not acting” he says again, quieter this time. “Not when I pour your coffee. Not when I hold your hand. Not when I call you mine in front of my parents.”

He steps closer. “I thought I could keep pretending. I thought maybe you wouldn’t notice but every time you smiled at me like that like it wasn’t fake, I started wishing it wasn’t.”

You stare at him, heart pounding in your ears.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same,” he adds. You take a breath, and it feels shaky but sure. “I think I stopped pretending too.”

Something shifts in the air. A silent beat passes, stretched thin between you, and then he moves.

Jay’s hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw like you’re something fragile, like he’s still checking if this is okay. You don’t move, you don’t look away and when he leans in, you meet him halfway.

The kiss is gentle at first, slow and careful like it’s something you’re both learning for the first time. His lips are warm and when you tilt your head, kiss him back just a little harder, Jay exhales like he’s been holding his breath for weeks.

His other hand slips around your waist, pulling you in. Your fingers twist into the fabric of his hoodie as he kisses you again, deeper this time less careful, more real.

It feels like something falling into place.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his. You’re both quiet, but not the heavy kind. The kind that feels like peace.

Jay speaks first, voice barely above a whisper. “So... what happens now?” You smile, fingers still looped in his hoodie. “Now we stop pretending.”

His lips curve, and he kisses you again, soft and sure.

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[leaderwon]

PLEASE stop using normal tags for smut I BEG 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

When I want fluff fics and all I’m getting is smut

You sometimes just need fluff and not smut.

@tsirxyawntu

[leaderwon]

THE DEAL

where in — what started as a lie, begins to feel like home ... 1.1k+

luna's diary : happy belated birthday my bbg @jjennuine. I love you so so so much and i hope we get closer 🫶🏻 this was hella rushed but I hope you like it ><

Jay’s place isn’t what you expected.

It’s cleaner, warmer. The soft smell of cedarwood clings to the corners of the apartment like it belongs there, like he belongs there and that’s a problem because you weren’t supposed to find any of this comforting.

You set your bag down by the shoe rack and mutter, “You seriously keep your shoes this lined up all the time?” Jay gives you a look like he’s not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult. “It’s called order” he says. “You should try it sometime.”

You scoff and toss your hoodie onto the back of his couch, just to annoy him.

It started as a joke. A half serious joke over overpriced iced americanos and the kind of tired only family pressure brings.

Jay’s parents were pushing him toward an arranged marriage. You were getting kicked out of your apartment. So naturally, the most logical solution?

“Live with me” he said, like it was a normal suggestion. “And what, fake date you too?” you asked, half laughing. “Exactly.”

The deal was simple. You’d move in for three months and pretend to be Jay’s loving partner whenever his family was around. In exchange, you’d get free rent, warm meals, and access to his Netflix. It felt ridiculous at the time. Easy, too easy.

What could possibly go wrong?

Three weeks in, the answer is becoming clear : you’re forgetting it’s supposed to be fake.

It’s not that living with Jay is hard. He’s clean, quiet, and surprisingly thoughtful. He texts you if he’s running late, labels the leftovers in the fridge, and always hands you the remote without arguing.

But it’s the little things that mess you up.

He always remembers how you take your coffee. He buys your favorite snacks when he’s out. He leaves sticky notes on the fridge like “your juice is back :)” and doesn’t make a big deal about it.

He doesn’t act like someone playing a part. He acts like someone who actually cares.

And that’s dangerous.

The night before the dinner with his parents, you’re curled up on the couch next to him. There’s a drama playing but neither of you are really watching it.

Jay is fiddling with the edge of the blanket between you, his fingers brushing yours every now and then like it’s nothing.

“Okay” he says eventually. “Let’s go over the story again.” You nod. “We’ve been dating for five months. Met through mutual friends. First date was at that café I like.” “The one with the cinnamon buns you won’t shut up about?” he says, teasing, but there’s a smile in his voice. You laugh. “They’re life changing.” He grins. “I know. You’ve told me like ten times.”

You nudge his arm gently, the blanket slipping further down your legs. “Okay, what else?” “We’re serious but taking it slow. We don’t fight in front of them. If my dad asks about the future, say we’re still figuring it out.” He pauses for a second. “And if they ask if we’re in love…”

He trails off, like he doesn’t want to finish the sentence.

You look at him. “I’ll say yes.”

Jay meets your eyes. There’s a flicker of something there you don’t want to name. “Cool,” he says softly. “Just making sure.”

Dinner is too easy.

His dad laughs at your jokes. His mom keeps saying how relaxed Jay looks when you’re around. You play your part well, laughing, brushing imaginary lint off his shirt, stealing little glances that feel too natural.

Jay is even better. He touches your back gently as he pulls out your chair, leans in close to whisper something stupid that still makes you smile, holds your hand under the table and doesn’t let go, even when he’s talking.

You almost forget it’s all pretend.

And then his mom says, “I hope you two stay together. I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

It knocks the air out of your chest.

You smile through it, say something polite. But all you can hear is that word — happy. All you can think about is how it’s starting to feel real.

The car ride home is quiet.

Jay doesn’t speak and you don’t either. It’s not tense but it’s not light either. You’re both holding something in but neither of you seems brave enough to say it.

Back at the apartment, you kick your shoes off, head straight for the kitchen and lean against the counter. The silence settles again.

Jay comes out of his room a few minutes later, dressed in sweats, his hair slightly damp. He leans against the hallway wall, arms crossed, watching you.

You finally say, “Why are you so good at this?” He tilts his head. “Good at what?” “This. All of it. The acting. The little gestures. The way you held my hand like you meant it.”

Jay doesn’t move for a second. Then, he steps forward slowly.

“I’m not acting.” You blink. “What?”

Jay looks at you fully now, like he’s done holding it in.

“I’m not acting” he says again, quieter this time. “Not when I pour your coffee. Not when I hold your hand. Not when I call you mine in front of my parents.”

He steps closer. “I thought I could keep pretending. I thought maybe you wouldn’t notice but every time you smiled at me like that like it wasn’t fake, I started wishing it wasn’t.”

You stare at him, heart pounding in your ears.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same,” he adds. You take a breath, and it feels shaky but sure. “I think I stopped pretending too.”

Something shifts in the air. A silent beat passes, stretched thin between you, and then he moves.

Jay’s hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw like you’re something fragile, like he’s still checking if this is okay. You don’t move, you don’t look away and when he leans in, you meet him halfway.

The kiss is gentle at first, slow and careful like it’s something you’re both learning for the first time. His lips are warm and when you tilt your head, kiss him back just a little harder, Jay exhales like he’s been holding his breath for weeks.

His other hand slips around your waist, pulling you in. Your fingers twist into the fabric of his hoodie as he kisses you again, deeper this time less careful, more real.

It feels like something falling into place.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his. You’re both quiet, but not the heavy kind. The kind that feels like peace.

Jay speaks first, voice barely above a whisper. “So... what happens now?” You smile, fingers still looped in his hoodie. “Now we stop pretending.”

His lips curve, and he kisses you again, soft and sure.

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[leaderwon]

i’m in love with a girl named luna, have you seen her?

[leaderwon]

CHAPTER 65 — worm

Synopsis :- In a world where lovers are destined and written by fate, You hated the idea of a soulmate, or maybe you just hated him. Jake wanted a soulmate, a lover to be with for the rest of eternity. Just not you. Not wanting eachother, the both of you occupy yourself with someone else. But the universe had other plans.

prev — masterlist — next

[leaderwon]

THE DEAL

where in — what started as a lie, begins to feel like home ... 1.1k+

luna's diary : happy belated birthday my bbg @jjennuine. I love you so so so much and i hope we get closer 🫶🏻 this was hella rushed but I hope you like it ><

Jay’s place isn’t what you expected.

It’s cleaner, warmer. The soft smell of cedarwood clings to the corners of the apartment like it belongs there, like he belongs there and that’s a problem because you weren’t supposed to find any of this comforting.

You set your bag down by the shoe rack and mutter, “You seriously keep your shoes this lined up all the time?” Jay gives you a look like he’s not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult. “It’s called order” he says. “You should try it sometime.”

You scoff and toss your hoodie onto the back of his couch, just to annoy him.

It started as a joke. A half serious joke over overpriced iced americanos and the kind of tired only family pressure brings.

Jay’s parents were pushing him toward an arranged marriage. You were getting kicked out of your apartment. So naturally, the most logical solution?

“Live with me” he said, like it was a normal suggestion. “And what, fake date you too?” you asked, half laughing. “Exactly.”

The deal was simple. You’d move in for three months and pretend to be Jay’s loving partner whenever his family was around. In exchange, you’d get free rent, warm meals, and access to his Netflix. It felt ridiculous at the time. Easy, too easy.

What could possibly go wrong?

Three weeks in, the answer is becoming clear : you’re forgetting it’s supposed to be fake.

It’s not that living with Jay is hard. He’s clean, quiet, and surprisingly thoughtful. He texts you if he’s running late, labels the leftovers in the fridge, and always hands you the remote without arguing.

But it’s the little things that mess you up.

He always remembers how you take your coffee. He buys your favorite snacks when he’s out. He leaves sticky notes on the fridge like “your juice is back :)” and doesn’t make a big deal about it.

He doesn’t act like someone playing a part. He acts like someone who actually cares.

And that’s dangerous.

The night before the dinner with his parents, you’re curled up on the couch next to him. There’s a drama playing but neither of you are really watching it.

Jay is fiddling with the edge of the blanket between you, his fingers brushing yours every now and then like it’s nothing.

“Okay” he says eventually. “Let’s go over the story again.” You nod. “We’ve been dating for five months. Met through mutual friends. First date was at that café I like.” “The one with the cinnamon buns you won’t shut up about?” he says, teasing, but there’s a smile in his voice. You laugh. “They’re life changing.” He grins. “I know. You’ve told me like ten times.”

You nudge his arm gently, the blanket slipping further down your legs. “Okay, what else?” “We’re serious but taking it slow. We don’t fight in front of them. If my dad asks about the future, say we’re still figuring it out.” He pauses for a second. “And if they ask if we’re in love…”

He trails off, like he doesn’t want to finish the sentence.

You look at him. “I’ll say yes.”

Jay meets your eyes. There’s a flicker of something there you don’t want to name. “Cool,” he says softly. “Just making sure.”

Dinner is too easy.

His dad laughs at your jokes. His mom keeps saying how relaxed Jay looks when you’re around. You play your part well, laughing, brushing imaginary lint off his shirt, stealing little glances that feel too natural.

Jay is even better. He touches your back gently as he pulls out your chair, leans in close to whisper something stupid that still makes you smile, holds your hand under the table and doesn’t let go, even when he’s talking.

You almost forget it’s all pretend.

And then his mom says, “I hope you two stay together. I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

It knocks the air out of your chest.

You smile through it, say something polite. But all you can hear is that word — happy. All you can think about is how it’s starting to feel real.

The car ride home is quiet.

Jay doesn’t speak and you don’t either. It’s not tense but it’s not light either. You’re both holding something in but neither of you seems brave enough to say it.

Back at the apartment, you kick your shoes off, head straight for the kitchen and lean against the counter. The silence settles again.

Jay comes out of his room a few minutes later, dressed in sweats, his hair slightly damp. He leans against the hallway wall, arms crossed, watching you.

You finally say, “Why are you so good at this?” He tilts his head. “Good at what?” “This. All of it. The acting. The little gestures. The way you held my hand like you meant it.”

Jay doesn’t move for a second. Then, he steps forward slowly.

“I’m not acting.” You blink. “What?”

Jay looks at you fully now, like he’s done holding it in.

“I’m not acting” he says again, quieter this time. “Not when I pour your coffee. Not when I hold your hand. Not when I call you mine in front of my parents.”

He steps closer. “I thought I could keep pretending. I thought maybe you wouldn’t notice but every time you smiled at me like that like it wasn’t fake, I started wishing it wasn’t.”

You stare at him, heart pounding in your ears.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same,” he adds. You take a breath, and it feels shaky but sure. “I think I stopped pretending too.”

Something shifts in the air. A silent beat passes, stretched thin between you, and then he moves.

Jay’s hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw like you’re something fragile, like he’s still checking if this is okay. You don’t move, you don’t look away and when he leans in, you meet him halfway.

The kiss is gentle at first, slow and careful like it’s something you’re both learning for the first time. His lips are warm and when you tilt your head, kiss him back just a little harder, Jay exhales like he’s been holding his breath for weeks.

His other hand slips around your waist, pulling you in. Your fingers twist into the fabric of his hoodie as he kisses you again, deeper this time less careful, more real.

It feels like something falling into place.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his. You’re both quiet, but not the heavy kind. The kind that feels like peace.

Jay speaks first, voice barely above a whisper. “So... what happens now?” You smile, fingers still looped in his hoodie. “Now we stop pretending.”

His lips curve, and he kisses you again, soft and sure.

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[leaderwon]

THE DEAL

where in — what started as a lie, begins to feel like home ... 1.1k+

luna's diary : happy belated birthday my bbg @jjennuine. I love you so so so much and i hope we get closer 🫶🏻 this was hella rushed but I hope you like it ><

Jay’s place isn’t what you expected.

It’s cleaner, warmer. The soft smell of cedarwood clings to the corners of the apartment like it belongs there, like he belongs there and that’s a problem because you weren’t supposed to find any of this comforting.

You set your bag down by the shoe rack and mutter, “You seriously keep your shoes this lined up all the time?” Jay gives you a look like he’s not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult. “It’s called order” he says. “You should try it sometime.”

You scoff and toss your hoodie onto the back of his couch, just to annoy him.

It started as a joke. A half serious joke over overpriced iced americanos and the kind of tired only family pressure brings.

Jay’s parents were pushing him toward an arranged marriage. You were getting kicked out of your apartment. So naturally, the most logical solution?

“Live with me” he said, like it was a normal suggestion. “And what, fake date you too?” you asked, half laughing. “Exactly.”

The deal was simple. You’d move in for three months and pretend to be Jay’s loving partner whenever his family was around. In exchange, you’d get free rent, warm meals, and access to his Netflix. It felt ridiculous at the time. Easy, too easy.

What could possibly go wrong?

Three weeks in, the answer is becoming clear : you’re forgetting it’s supposed to be fake.

It’s not that living with Jay is hard. He’s clean, quiet, and surprisingly thoughtful. He texts you if he’s running late, labels the leftovers in the fridge, and always hands you the remote without arguing.

But it’s the little things that mess you up.

He always remembers how you take your coffee. He buys your favorite snacks when he’s out. He leaves sticky notes on the fridge like “your juice is back :)” and doesn’t make a big deal about it.

He doesn’t act like someone playing a part. He acts like someone who actually cares.

And that’s dangerous.

The night before the dinner with his parents, you’re curled up on the couch next to him. There’s a drama playing but neither of you are really watching it.

Jay is fiddling with the edge of the blanket between you, his fingers brushing yours every now and then like it’s nothing.

“Okay” he says eventually. “Let’s go over the story again.” You nod. “We’ve been dating for five months. Met through mutual friends. First date was at that café I like.” “The one with the cinnamon buns you won’t shut up about?” he says, teasing, but there’s a smile in his voice. You laugh. “They’re life changing.” He grins. “I know. You’ve told me like ten times.”

You nudge his arm gently, the blanket slipping further down your legs. “Okay, what else?” “We’re serious but taking it slow. We don’t fight in front of them. If my dad asks about the future, say we’re still figuring it out.” He pauses for a second. “And if they ask if we’re in love…”

He trails off, like he doesn’t want to finish the sentence.

You look at him. “I’ll say yes.”

Jay meets your eyes. There’s a flicker of something there you don’t want to name. “Cool,” he says softly. “Just making sure.”

Dinner is too easy.

His dad laughs at your jokes. His mom keeps saying how relaxed Jay looks when you’re around. You play your part well, laughing, brushing imaginary lint off his shirt, stealing little glances that feel too natural.

Jay is even better. He touches your back gently as he pulls out your chair, leans in close to whisper something stupid that still makes you smile, holds your hand under the table and doesn’t let go, even when he’s talking.

You almost forget it’s all pretend.

And then his mom says, “I hope you two stay together. I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

It knocks the air out of your chest.

You smile through it, say something polite. But all you can hear is that word — happy. All you can think about is how it’s starting to feel real.

The car ride home is quiet.

Jay doesn’t speak and you don’t either. It’s not tense but it’s not light either. You’re both holding something in but neither of you seems brave enough to say it.

Back at the apartment, you kick your shoes off, head straight for the kitchen and lean against the counter. The silence settles again.

Jay comes out of his room a few minutes later, dressed in sweats, his hair slightly damp. He leans against the hallway wall, arms crossed, watching you.

You finally say, “Why are you so good at this?” He tilts his head. “Good at what?” “This. All of it. The acting. The little gestures. The way you held my hand like you meant it.”

Jay doesn’t move for a second. Then, he steps forward slowly.

“I’m not acting.” You blink. “What?”

Jay looks at you fully now, like he’s done holding it in.

“I’m not acting” he says again, quieter this time. “Not when I pour your coffee. Not when I hold your hand. Not when I call you mine in front of my parents.”

He steps closer. “I thought I could keep pretending. I thought maybe you wouldn’t notice but every time you smiled at me like that like it wasn’t fake, I started wishing it wasn’t.”

You stare at him, heart pounding in your ears.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same,” he adds. You take a breath, and it feels shaky but sure. “I think I stopped pretending too.”

Something shifts in the air. A silent beat passes, stretched thin between you, and then he moves.

Jay’s hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw like you’re something fragile, like he’s still checking if this is okay. You don’t move, you don’t look away and when he leans in, you meet him halfway.

The kiss is gentle at first, slow and careful like it’s something you’re both learning for the first time. His lips are warm and when you tilt your head, kiss him back just a little harder, Jay exhales like he’s been holding his breath for weeks.

His other hand slips around your waist, pulling you in. Your fingers twist into the fabric of his hoodie as he kisses you again, deeper this time less careful, more real.

It feels like something falling into place.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his. You’re both quiet, but not the heavy kind. The kind that feels like peace.

Jay speaks first, voice barely above a whisper. “So... what happens now?” You smile, fingers still looped in his hoodie. “Now we stop pretending.”

His lips curve, and he kisses you again, soft and sure.

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[leaderwon]

how many chapters are you planning for hate that ?! im loving it hehe

79 in total! after that there's gonna be a sequel ^^

[leaderwon]

ok jesus christ i can’t believe i have to make this post. i know you guys know that there has been some bad plagiarism issues in enhablr recently and another one just happened. you can read that here.

first off, i would like to say that if you have used my fic layout without permission, please change it. i am not really comfortable with people using it and not crediting me with it. i have a hard time saying no to people so i’m currently finding this very hard to express—please forgive me for that. but i have seen a handful of people use my fic layout without permission and i have had to sort things out in private or just with them in general. i’m so grateful that people like my fics and layouts, but please do not copy them. i am not trying to hate or shame anyone who used it, i just want to express my feelings about it.

second of all, i have now gotten a few asks about people asking if they can use my writing style to inspire their own work. to start, i actually have no idea what that means and how you can be inspired by a writing style (i’m a bit slow please forgive me), but i’m putting trust into them and i hope they don’t copy me. it’s okay to be inspired, but not okay to copy. if you feel inspired, try taking that inspiration and making your own unique style instead! you’ll get much more success out of it.

ok and now for the post i linked earlier. @si3rren has just had an issue with plagiarism of her fic, and i came across her post, regarding it. when i looked at the screenshots, i saw that MY fic layout was used yet again. i had no idea this happened because i was not credited or anything. this is what makes me frustrated because i have spent my own time, trying to make my layouts unique because i believe no one’s stuff should be blatantly copied like that.

so please, please, please don’t copy anything!!! it’s okay to take light inspo and credit, but not this heavy level of plagiarism. i am beyond frustrated now and i am only now making this post despite how spaced out these events were. i’ve been scared to speak out because i didn’t want to say the wrong things, or lose any of my friends, but after talking with some of my moots, i have realized i need to do this.

thank you for reading this and i hope you can share and reblog this.

tagging for awareness: @chuhees, @saemisic, @saeivra, @yintual, @manariee, @chrrific, @fleurstqr, @fleuryns, @melodiessvy, @dollerin, @douqhnxtss, @callikari, @koiiqqqq, @cielinas, @amatariki, @htaesan, @woniefication, @jjennuine, @leaderwon

[leaderwon]

chapter 64 — a color that fades

Synopsis :- In a world where lovers are destined and written by fate, You hated the idea of a soulmate, or maybe you just hated him. Jake wanted a soulmate, a lover to be with for the rest of eternity. Just not you. Not wanting eachother, the both of you occupy yourself with someone else. But the universe had other plans.

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The sun filtered through the tall windows of the campus cafe, bathing the group in a warm midday glow. It wasn’t exactly bustling, most students were still tucked away in their classes — but your table had enough laughter and clinking coffee mugs to fill the quiet.

Stella had claimed the largest corner booth before anyone else could and was now leaned back, arms spread along the top of the seat like she ruled the place. Beside her, Mia was halfway through a muffin, crumbs smudged near her lip, while Chaeryeong poked her straw aggressively into her iced latte like it had insulted her family. Across from them sat Heeseung. And next to Heeseung, you.

You hadn’t planned on this. Honestly, you’d tried to ghost Stella’s lunch invite until she threatened to show up at your apartment with noise-canceling headphones and a full therapy playlist. Typical Stella. The surprise guest hadn’t even shocked you anymore — her brother, Heeseung, apparently a bringer of peace and baked goods, had slid into the booth without much fanfare, sliding a paper bag of homemade muffins onto the table like it was just another Tuesday.

“So... these have chocolate chips, but I’m legally required to inform you there may also be walnuts. Mia, don’t sue me” Heeseung said, holding both hands up in mock surrender.

“You always do this” Mia muttered, already biting into one. “You say ‘may contain walnuts’ like you didn’t bake them yourself.”

“I like to keep the experience mysterious” he replied, grinning.

You smiled a little before catching yourself and looking away.

It was strange how easy it was to sit here. How this group, still relatively new in your life, didn’t poke at your scars or expect you to be "over it" already. There were no awkward silences. No glances filled with regret or pity.

Stella glanced at you as if reading your mind, then subtly bumped your knee under the table. Her way of saying, “See? Told you this was better than doomscrolling in bed.”

You offered a faint smile and picked at the corner of your napkin.

And then he walked in.

Jake.

You didn’t see him at first, you felt it.

A shift in air pressure. That heat along the back of your neck. The way the girls laughter didn’t quite reach your ears anymore.

He was across the café, steps from the counter, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his hoodie. His eyes were tired, there were darker shadows under them now, and his jaw looked tense, like he hadn’t been sleeping much. He was talking to Jay and Sunghoon, who trailed behind him like reluctant bodyguards.

Jake’s eyes scanned the room instinctively, and the second they landed on your table, he froze.

You didn’t look away.

You just turned back toward Heeseung, who was mid story about accidentally joining a cult adjacent baking club his freshman year. Mia was gasping with laughter. Stella looked smug, and Chaeryeong muttered something about “bakers being the real red flags.”

You let yourself laugh. Not big or dramatic. Just enough.

Jake watched all of it unfold. The small moments. Your head tilted toward Heeseung when you spoke. The way your arm brushed against his when you reached for your drink. The comfort. The ease. The distance from him.

It was like watching something precious shatter in slow motion.

Jay followed his gaze. “Bro…” Jake didn’t answer. His throat felt like it was closing. He pressed a hand to the edge of his collarbone, just beneath the neckline of his hoodie.

The soulmate mark had always rested there — faintly glowing on good days, pulsing gently when you were close, alive.

Now, it looked... faded.

Not completely, but dimmer. Like it was being drained. Like someone had taken an eraser to its edges and was slowly, methodically, rubbing it away.

His stomach twisted.

He rubbed over it with his palm, desperate for a spark.

“Hey,” Sunghoon said quietly. “You okay?” “Just tired,” Jake muttered. “I need to—” He started toward the door, brushing past the counter. Jay called after him, “You don’t want coffee?”

Jake didn’t answer. He just walked out.

Back at the booth, you caught the tail end of him leaving.

You didn’t say anything.

Heeseung, noticing the flicker in your gaze, leaned a little closer, not intrusively, just gently enough that his voice didn’t carry past the table.

“You okay?” You blinked. “Yeah. Just—”

He didn’t push.

He just nodded and offered you the last chocolate muffin from the bag.

That night, Jake sat at the edge of his bed, staring at his phone like it held the solution to a problem he didn’t understand.

Jake:

I’m sorry.

He stared at it.

Backspaced.

Jake:

I saw you today. You looked… happy. That’s good.

Backspace again.

Jake:

I miss you.

He held the phone tight and then let it fall onto the bed. His gaze dropped to his collarbone. The mark was still there, but barely. Washed out. Drained. It wasn’t supposed to fade. Not unless one of you was letting go.

His chest tightened.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Not like this. Not after everything. Not now.

© @leaderwon 2025. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[leaderwon]

Hihiii

I ammmm soooo busy these days m so so so sorry. How are you doing??

- Studybug anon 🥂 (thats my emoji.)

im so tired dawg so many important exams im so cooked TT i hope you're taking care of yourself 🫶🏻

[leaderwon]

The way the strings of my heart were pulled towards the end of the last chapter of Hate That 😭 I nearly teared up 😭😭😭

I FEAR it gets worse...